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cherienymphe · 4 years

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None Of Your Concern (Chris Evans x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON(NON-CON?), AGE GAP, CHEATING(?)

DNI IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

summary: costars for a little over a year, Chris has always been protective of you in the cutthroat industry much like a father would be. However, when he learns that your boyfriend is even older than him, he realizes that his feelings might not be so familial after all

“Okay, so it’s sort of cool that a small chunk of the Avengers gang is reunited for this movie,” the interviewer said with a chuckle.

You all joined in, in agreement. She rested her blue eyes on you.

“I know that you were a huge fan of the franchise, Y/N. I mean, over the years there have been quite a few tweets from you about the movies, ranging from…‘Spider-Man’s on team Iron-Man so therefore I am on team Iron-Man’ to ‘Scott Lang deserves the world’,” she said, reading from her phone.

Tom got a huge kick out of that first one, and you rolled your eyes. The interviewer’s eyes flickered between you two, a small smile on her lips.

“I mean, am I wrong? Does Scott Lang not deserve the world?”

She nodded with a grin.

“No, you’re right, he definitely does! I just feel like being cast in this movie and having been on the set for a little over a year must have been something like a dream come true,” she pressed.

You thought about your answer for a moment, just like your publicist advised.

“Yeah, you could say that. It’s sort of surreal going from having been kind of a casual fan of someone to interacting with them almost every day for a year,” you honestly answered.

You didn’t know if you would ever get used to interviews, no matter how private they were. You were grateful you weren’t on Jimmy Fallon or something with a live audience watching your every move, but sitting next to Tom, Anthony, Sebastian, Chris, and Tessa in a room was almost just as bad in your eyes.

“…and you’ve gotten super close with your castmates, I’d say.”

You heard Tessa clear her throat, and when you caught her eye, she gave you a look, but you didn’t understand it.

“Yeah, definitely! I love them all and they’ve easily become some of my closest friends now,” you replied, eyes meeting the interviewer’s again.

She threw you a secretive smile.

“…but you and Tom seem to hang out together more than the rest of the cast. As thick as thieves some would say,” she pressed.

Your lips parted, caught off guard, and when you caught Tessa’s eye again, you recognized the sympathetic look she was giving you. A light bulb seemed to go off in your head as you realized what she was trying to warn you against earlier, the very thing you’d unknowingly walked into. Luckily, Tom jumped in before you did.

“Well,” he started, straightening in his seat, shoulder brushing your own. “Y/N and I are the youngest members of the main cast. We don’t really have much in common with the senior citizens to my left.”

He feigned a whisper during the last part, not so discreetly pointing to his left. It had the desired effect, and you were grateful that he was trying to draw the attention away from you.

“Um,” Tessa loudly began, straightening up in her seat just as Anthony, Chris, and Sebastian all spoke up at once.

“I think what he means to say is we don’t allow the children to eat at the adult’s table,” Anthony threw in.

“Yeah, its definitely more like we exclude them, and they have no choice but to hang out together,” Sebastian joked.

“Senior citizens,” Chris scoffed, cutting his eyes at Tom.

The interviewer laughed at the turn of events, but unfortunately, she was determined to expose whatever she thought was going on between you and Tom.

“So you two are rather close then? Being alienated and all,” she chuckled.

Tom laughed, albeit a bit uncomfortably as it became clear that she wasn’t going to give up. He nudged you, gesturing for you to take the stand, having already tried to steer her in another direction.

“Well…yes, but we’re all rather close, but yeah. I would say that Tom is kind of like my best friend,” you honestly told her.

She aw’d at that, tilting her head to the side. You cut your eyes to everyone else in the room, narrowing them as it became clear that they weren’t going to help the two of you get out of this. You just knew Anthony was enjoying this…

“Just friends then? Because you two have a lot of fans, and a lot of them seem to think there’s more to the friendship, or at least, they hope there is, and honestly? Who can blame them? You two are always spotted hanging out together, going for coffee, running to Target… You’re practically joined at the hip.”

As she came outright and said it, you both wasted no time in refuting it.

“Oh, God no,” you cried, shaking your head.

“No, no, absolutely not,” Tom laughed. “Y/N and I are simply good friends. She has much better taste than I do, hence why I have to drag her to Target. Besides, we don’t have Target back home, so whenever I’m in the states, I’m going shopping there every chance I get.”

“I don’t know, I think they answered that just a little too quickly for me,” Tessa suddenly wondered aloud.

You threw her a look of betrayal as Chris added on.

“Yeah, that…that wasn’t convincing, at all,” he said in between chuckles.

You gaped at him as Tom ran his hand through his hair.

“No, Y/N and I are just friends, and nothing more. She-she has a boyfriend, anyway,” he threw out, and you playfully hit his arm.

“Tom,” you warned.

You weren’t genuinely upset that he’d let that slip, especially since you didn’t exactly care if people knew. People knowing you had a boyfriend wasn’t the cause of your apprehension. It came from certain details about your boyfriend…

“Wait, you have a boyfriend?”

Four people said several variations of this at the same time, and you cringed. Tom at least looked a bit ashamed as the interviewer watch on in amusement.

“I didn’t say any names,” he defended, hands up.

You caught Anthony’s eye and he was looking at you like you’d just hid the world’s biggest secret. Tessa looked scandalized as well, and you didn’t dare look at Chris and Sebastian.

“Wait…wait a minute,” the interviewer said, sitting up in her own chair as she looked at you two.

There was a slow smirk forming on her lips.

“So…you have a boyfriend that nobody else seems to know about…except for Tom…”

You both froze, realizing how this looked. A few chuckles reached your ears, and you exhaled.

“Okay, I know how this looks…”

“It isn’t like that, at all,” Tom reiterated. “He’s a swell chap, no, really. He’s brilliant-.”

“You’ve met him then?”

“Well, yeah-.”

“Wait, wait, wait. So how come you’ve met this ‘boyfriend’ and none of us have?” Anthony wondered.

“Yeah, this sounds like a bit of a cover,” the interviewer added.

“Not a very convincing one,” Sebastian whispered.

“Okay, okay! I know that I’m not super talkative about it, but have we all forgotten that I have a girlfriend?”

That seemed to quiet everyone down.

“…besides, her boyfriend is like forty anyway, so its definitely not me,” he laughed, realizing too late what he’d said.

“Tom!” you cried.

Both of his hands were covering his mouth, eyes wide as all hell broke loose. You blinked several times, mouth agape in shock.

“I’m sorry, what?” Tessa yelled over the others.

“Forty?”

Sebastian, Chris, and Anthony were all talking over each other, all of their questions directed at you while you just stared at Tom who stared back, pleading. He slid his hands down, teeth bared as shame filled his features, cringing.

“I’m so, so, so sorry…”

His apology was overshadowed by Sebastian.

“Forty?” he repeated.

“Tom’s exaggerating, okay? He’s more like thirty,” you quickly said, trying to ease the tension and make light of the situation.

Tom’s eyes were wide as they met yours, and you quickly looked away.

“So, the boyfriend isn’t Tom…and he’s only thirty then?” the interviewer finally spoke up when the room was finally quiet once again.

You sighed, eyes meeting Tom’s again as he looked to see what you were going to do. You thought about what your publicist would advise. You’d been a part of stan twitter once. You knew how the internet could be. They’d dig until they found out the truth, and discovering his actual age, and identity by extension, would be pretty bad for both of you. Against your better judgement, you decided to be truthful since the cat was out of the bag, hoping it’d be enough to keep people’s curiosity at bay.

“No, he’s definitely 43,” you quietly admitted.

Once again, all hell broke loose.

As soon as the interview was over, you were the first one out of the room, Tom right behind you. You could hear your name being called, and Tom pushed you along.

“Go, go, go,” he urged.

You had just made it to your dressing room when a muscular arm slid between the door and the frame as you attempted to close it.

“Anthony, not now!”

“No, no, now.”

He pushed the door open, and you denied him entrance, two familiar faces behind him. Neither him, Sebastian, or Chris looked pleased with you, and you just knew that they weren’t going to let this go…not without a fight. Tessa passed by, and you sent her a pleading look.

She heaved a sigh, slowing down before reaching out to pull them all back.

“C’mon guys. Leave the poor girl alone,” she said.

“We just want to talk,” Sebastian said.

It was a lie.

“I’m not discussing this with you,” you told them, eyes meeting Chris’. “Any of you.”

You tried to ignore his frown as you closed and locked the door. With a sigh, you dug through your purse for your phone. You texted Alex, your boyfriend, warning him of what might make it into the article. You weren’t actually upset about the turn of events, you just hated the aftermath that would ensue.

You blamed the interviewer most of all. You knew that Tom was just trying to clear the air and make it known that there wasn’t anything going on between you two. You knew how flustered he could get sometimes when he started rambling, and you also texted him to let him know that everything was fine, and you weren’t mad.

Your main concern was the trio down the hall. Tessa felt like an older sister at times, and while you wish that it had been on your terms, you weren’t opposed to talking to her about this. You knew the conversation was going to happen eventually. Anthony, Sebastian, and Chris on the other hand were a completely different matter.

You stuck your head out, glancing around before leaving the room.

Your friendship with Seb was way more casual than with the other two. You cracked jokes and hung out with all of them often, but half the time it felt like Chris and Anthony were scolding you and telling you what you could or couldn’t do. Sebastian didn’t care, and you liked that. Hence why you didn’t verbally oppose when he suddenly came out of nowhere, easily falling into stride with you.

He didn’t say anything for a while, but you knew it was coming. You bit your lip, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing that he was doing the same. He abruptly stopped, and so did you.

“Forty-three?”

You avoided his piercing gaze, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as he faced you.

“Seb…please…”

“I mean, I’m not judging, I promise,” he said, hands raised.

“Except, you are though,” you sighed, looking at him. “You’re judging, just a little bit.”

His arms fell at his sides.

“Okay, so I’m judging just a little bit, but can you blame me? The guy’s older than Anthony,” he scoffed.

You chuckled.

“Yeah, he is, but I don’t care,” you told him.

“Clearly. I’m just saying, he’s old enough to be your father,” he said.

“Well, it’s a good thing he’s not, because then that would be weird,” you threw at him, rolling your eyes.

He heaved a heavy sigh, and somehow, you got the feeling that he’d drawn the short straw on who was going to come and talk sense into you. You briefly glanced down the hall, brows furrowed. He placed his hands on your shoulders, and you hated how he was looking at you. Like you were a child doing something bad. Your jaw clenched.

“I know you’re an adult…”

You let out a humorless chuckle.

“Do you know who you sound like, right now?”

He rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

“At the risk of sounding like Chris…”

“You sound like Chris, that’s who you sound like.”

“…this industry can be…ruthless,” he continued.

“Don’t I know it?” you sarcastically replied.

“…and you’re still so fresh and new and there are plenty of people just looking to take advantage of someone like you and your talent and potential…”

“My boyfriend isn’t one of them, okay? He has plenty of talent on his own,” you informed him.

Sebastian tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing.

“What his name, anyway?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you slowly sang.

“Well…what does he do?”

“Again, none of your business.”

“How did you meet? How long have you been seeing him? Something, anything! Anything at all?”

You pursed your lips before releasing a soft sigh.

“We’ve been seeing each other for about 7 months now,” you admitted.

His eyes almost bugged out of his head, lips parting.

“7 months?”

You pulled away from him, the day finally getting to you.

“Look, Seb, I have to go. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you guys, but to be honest, this was the main reason why, so…”

You paused, facing him again.

“Please, tell Chris and Anthony not to worry, okay? I know they’re freaking the fuck out and probably sent you on their behalf. I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” you called over your shoulder as you exited the building.

When you got home, there was a slew of text messages awaiting you. Most were from Anthony, and you answered all of them as best as you could. He was just worried, and you definitely understood that, but he was freaking out more than your own mother had when you told her about Alex.

“It just…took me by surprise,” was the first thing he said when he picked up the phone.

“I know, I know,” you sighed, browsing your fridge for something to eat. “I was always going to tell you guys if it ever got more serious.”

“More serious?” he scoffed. “Seb said you guys have been dating for 7 months.”

You rolled your eyes.

“We clearly have different definitions of a serious relationship,” you mumbled.

“It’s just concerning, alright? If my kid was dating someone 20 years older than them, I’d be rightfully concerned,” he defended. “Especially considering I’ve never met this man and don’t know anything about him.”

“Look at the word you just used: kid. That is something I am not,” you said, slamming your fridge shut. “…and there’s no need to meet him.”

“I disagree.”

“That’s fine,” you tersely replied.

You heard him exhale on the other end, a tense silence falling between you two. You were being a little harsh, you knew that, especially considering Anthony always treated you like family, but you needed to make him, all of them, understand that you were an adult who could make her own decisions. They had no say in this.

“…you heard from Chris?” he eventually asked.

“No, actually, and that’s a little worrisome, I’m not going to lie,” you honestly added, running your eyes over your wine collection.

“Yeah, well, he’s not happy,” Anthony told you.

“If he’s going to pout about this like my personal dating choices offended him or something, then he can suck my ass.”

A laugh met you from the other end, a genuine laugh, and you cracked a smile.

“He’ll come around. You know how much you mean to him,” he finally said after he calmed down.

You did know. Chris was one of the first people to talk to you on set, trying to make you feel more comfortable. It was your first big movie, your first time starring with household names, with people that had way more experience than you. He got you to laugh on your first day and even dragged you over to meet everyone else. He’d taken you under his wing…

Your heart clenched as you thought about how he must feel. It was your business, sure, but you couldn’t pretend like you didn’t feel guilty. You felt even worse once you thought about the fact that you’d told Tom and not him, but Tom didn’t judge you. Tom didn’t treat you like some kid who didn’t know any better half the time.

“I’ll text him,” you told Anthony. “See if I can get him to accept my white flag…”

“You do that. See you tomorrow, kiddo.”

You texted Chris as soon as you hung up, and as the night wore on, your worry grew. You found yourself periodically checking your phone for any type of response, but you got nothing. Alex called though and talked with you until you fell asleep. He was overseas, filming in his home country at the moment, but he called you every day.

He wasn’t bothered at all by what might be in the article, only making sure that you were okay.

“Yeah…I’m okay,” you quietly replied.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound it,” he quietly replied, deep voice gruff.

You frowned before turning to look at your clock.

“Isn’t it like…3 in the morning over there?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he lightly said, ignoring your own.

You sighed.

“I’m fine, really. It’s just…there was a reason I didn’t want to tell everyone, and some people are proving me right…”

“They’ll come around,” he assured.

“You know Seb isn’t the type to care too much, but even he was more judgmental than I expected. Anthony is slowly coming around, but Chris… He’s not answering any of my texts.”

He was quiet for a while before finally responding.

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

You frowned again, sitting up in bed.

“What do you mean?”

“He is a bit…overprotective of you, isn’t he? I know he just gets concerned, but sometimes he acts like he’s your father and…he’s not. He shouldn’t have any say in what you do,” he elaborated.

You rubbed your eyes.

“I know what you’re saying is true because I’ve thought it myself, but for some reason it sounds harsh coming from your lips,” you groaned.

He chuckled.

“I don’t mean for it to, I promise. I just mean that maybe this will force him to lighten up a bit and realize that there are boundaries and lines he shouldn’t cross…”

You blinked.

“Huh. You might be onto something,” you admitted. “I know he thinks I’m such a child sometimes. Maybe this will make him wake up.”

You didn’t stay on the phone for much longer, and your heart sank when you hung up only to see no new notifications. Was Chris ignoring you? With a huff, you plugged your phone up and settled into bed.

You sipped on the coffee Tom had gotten you on the way here, leaning against the wall as you watched Chris and Anthony talk to the interviewer. This one preferred to talk to a few of you at a time, and considering the disaster that happened a week ago, you quite liked that.

That pushy girl had indeed included the bit about your love life in the article. Fortunately, it was tastefully done, only mentioning it in passing, but she had included that the rest of the cast, sans Tom, had been none the wiser. You hadn’t checked to see what people were saying about it. It wasn’t their opinions that mattered to you.

Chris hadn’t talked to you since, ignoring every one of your messages. Eventually, you gave up, deciding that he’d talk to you whenever he was ready. At first you were angry once you realized what he was doing, but eventually you became more understanding. He was probably more hurt than anything that you hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him.

You perked up when you heard the mention of your name.

“So, word on the street is that Y/N does indeed have a beau and it’s not Tom Holland…” he started.

Chris and Anthony chuckled, but you could tell it was forced.

“Yeah, man, I don’t think anyone was more shocked about that one than their fans,” he laughed. “…but we all know they’re just good friends. It was a nice running joke for a while though.”

Chris didn’t say anything, and the interviewer continued.

“Speaking of shocked, is it true that the rest of you guys were completely in the dark about it? I read that the ball was actually dropped during the interview. I mean, how awkward that must’ve been…”

Chris exhaled.

“Yeah…it was definitely something. It made my day though.”

Your jaw ticked as you realized that he was putting on a front.

“…and is it true that he’s 43? I mean, I’ll definitely ask Y/N this later on-.”

“Then it’d probably be best if she answered that,” Anthony interrupted, and you mentally thanked him.

“Well…the secret’s out, right?” Chris laughed, and you frowned. “Yeah, she says he’s 43.”

Your frown deepened.

“That’d be like dating one of you guys, I’d imagine, but at least it’ll be easy for him to get on well with you guys. You all are rather close with Y/N, so that must be of some importance to her,” the interviewer replied.

“I don’t know about that one considering we found out with the rest of the world,” Chris joked, but you saw right through it. “I suppose it’s a good thing we didn’t know though because…”

He suddenly trailed off, letting out a low ‘whew’. He shook his head.

“No. I never would have allowed it.”

Your jaw dropped, staring at him like he’d grown a second head as the words registered within your mind. You didn’t even hear the rest of what was said as you backed up. You almost bumped into Tessa, and she steadied you.

“Woah,” she said. “You okay?”

“No, actually,” you slowly replied, turning to face her. “I’m not.”

You found that it was true. Your stomach churned and you felt like you were going to vomit any moment. The audacity of him!

“I…I have to go,” you told her.

You let your publicist know that you were feeling ill, and you waved bye to Tom on the way out, his brows furrowed in confusion as he hesitantly waved back. You fought tears the entire way to your apartment, shaking your head in disbelief. Never mind the fact that Chris has said that, but the fact that he’d confidently said it in front of other people.

“Never would have allowed it?” you mumbled to yourself.

You were gripping the wheel so hard you were sure it would break. As you furiously got out of your car, you thought to yourself that you didn’t even care if he texted you back or not. You weren’t in the mood to even look at his face, let alone talk to him.

After you showered and poured yourself a glass of wine, you curled up on your couch, staring at the tv…but not watching it. Chris’ words kept replaying, and you wondered how he could even fix his mouth to say such a thing. He wasn’t your father! There wasn’t a damn thing in the world he could forbid you to do.

And before you knew it, you had downed two more glasses and that was exactly what you were texting him. You were certain your thumbs would crack the screen with how furiously you were typing. When you were done, you turned your phone off, slamming it on the table as you returned your gaze to the tv.

It was hours later when you heard a knock on your door. You briefly wondered who it was, but you had suspicions that it was probably Tom. You’d left in such a hurry, and your phone was off, so he was probably coming to check on you. With a buzz coursing through your veins, you pulled the door open, only for your face to drop when your eyes connected with blue ones…not brown.

He didn’t exactly look thrilled to see you either, and you were certain that your face was no different. You pursed your lips, going through a pros and cons checklist of letting him in before scoffing. You swung the door open wider before turning your back on him. You heard him close it, his feet following yours into the kitchen.

You didn’t spare him a glance as you poured yourself another glass, taking up residence on the other side of the small island. Eventually, when he didn’t say anything, you looked up at him, a frown on your face.

“Are you actually going to say something? Or just stand there and stare at me?”

Chris heaved a sigh, resting one hand on the counter while the other found a home on his hip. He stared you down, jaw ticking beneath his beard.

“You’re upset with me…”

“I wonder what makes you think that?” you mumbled into your glass.

“…but I’m upset with you too.”

“Yeah, well, at least my anger is valid,” you spat.

“…and mine isn’t?” he threw back.

You huffed, glancing away from him.

“If you’re upset that I didn’t tell you, then I’m sorry. I mean that. I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you or anything, but you have to understand why I didn’t say anything. Look at how you’re reacting,” you said, gesturing to him.

His nostrils flared.

“What does a man like that have in common with someone like you anyway?”

You jutted out your hip, resting your hand on it as you stared him down.

“Someone could easily ask you the same thing. What, I can be friends with you, Anthony, and Sebastian despite the age difference, but I can’t date someone who’s the same age as you?”

“It’s a bit different. We are your friends, we look out for you, we are not trying to…”

He swallowed his words, seeming like he couldn’t even bear to say it. You smirked at him.

“So I can choose my friends, but I can’t choose who I fuck?”

He glared at you.

“I mean…that is what you’re saying, right?”

“You can choose someone who’s acceptable…”

“…and who are you to say he’s not acceptable?” you demanded, offended on Alex’s behalf. “You don’t even know him.”

He made himself at home, taking a seat as he stared at you, hands folded on the counter.

“So tell me about him then…”

You heaved a long sigh, leaning against the sink as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“He’s…sweet,” you started, pressing your hands to your eyes. “Oh my God, he’s so sweet, Chris. You’d get along great with him. He’s funny, he loves dogs, and he has the biggest and kindest family you’ll ever meet. He’s filming overseas, right now-.”

“So he’s an actor,” Chris interrupted, sounding displeased.

“Yes. He calls me every night…,” you trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable.

“You told Anthony that it wasn’t serious…”

You looked down.

“I really like him, okay? That’s why I don’t care what you guys think. I’m not breaking up with him just because you don’t approve,” you said, eyes meeting his again. “You’re not my father, and you can’t tell me what to do.”

“No, I’m not your father, and I’m sure as hell glad for that, but someone definitely needs to be…”

“Screw you, Chris,” you murmured.

He glared at you, and you fought back tears, surprised at how much this was hurting your feelings.

“I don’t understand why you’re so mad about this! Why are you treating me like I can’t make my own decisions?”

“Because I think you’re making bad ones,” he answered, rising and heading towards the door.

You balled your hands into fists as he made his way out.

You spun away from Tessa, a thin layer of sweat clinging to your skin. Today was the last day of filming, and the crew members were hosting a party. You’d almost let Chris’ sour attitude ruin it for you, but Tessa convinced you to come.

She’d arrived at your apartment early in the morning, fed up with your sulking. You told her about your argument with Chris, and she listened while you ranted about his behavior. You talked with her about Alex too, eager to tell her everything. Talking to Tom about him was nice and all, but it was different with Tessa.

She comprehended why you had never said anything about your relationship, far more understanding than Chris or even Anthony had been. She made you feel a lot better about the whole situation and assured you that Chris would get over it. He hadn’t spoken to you the entire time you’d been here, so you didn’t know about that.

It pained you to think that your friendship with him could end just like that over something so insignificant as to who you were dating, something that didn’t affect his life in the slightest. You stumbled away from Tessa, realizing that you’d had more to drink than you thought. You touched her arm.

“Hey, I’m gonna head inside. Try to rest my nerves for a bit…”

“Okay,” she said. “Hurry back when you feel better.”

“K.”

You trudged your way inside of the huge house, heading straight for the kitchen. You filled a glass with water from the sink, emptying it in no time. You were ready to go for another when movement from your left caught your eye.

You looked over your shoulder, pausing when your gaze connected with that of Chris’. He didn’t look like he was having fun, and your shoulders sagged.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

You eyed him, almost sadly, before swallowing. You nodded, forgetting the glass of water and opting to follow him instead. You stumbled a few times, alcohol coursing through your system, but thankfully Chris didn’t notice.

You followed him into a guest bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed as he turned on the light. He was dressed plainly in jeans and a dark tee, a darker cardigan hugging his arms and shoulders. He rested his hands on his hips in that Captain America way you often teased him about, and you fought a smile.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually breathed.

You blinked at him, the alcohol making it hard to process what he said.

“You’re…sorry?”

Your voice was small and unsure, and his face crumbled as he moved to sit beside you.

“You’re right. I can’t tell you who you can or can’t date. I shouldn’t have said what I said in that interview,” he admitted.

You let out a soft chuckle.

“No…you shouldn’t have. I was so…embarrassed when you said that Chris,” you said, looking at him.

“I know,” he whispered. “I don’t want to make you feel that way. I thought I was upset because you hid it from me, but…”

You eyed him, waiting for him to continue. His gaze met yours.

“I don’t have any rights to your dating life, but…I want to,” he slowly replied.

You frowned at him, and he continued.

“I care about you…”

“I know. I care about you too,” you told him in the quiet room.

“I’m attracted to you, Y/N,” he confessed, making your eyes widen. “I always have been.”

Your lips parted, surprise and confusion filling you.

“I told myself from the beginning that my feelings were innocent, that I was just looking out for you. I convinced myself that my anger at your relationship came from a place of concern…but that isn’t true.”

“Chris…”

“Somewhere down the line, in the back of my mind, I had accepted that anything between us would be inappropriate. That you’d be repulsed…and then, come to find out, your boyfriend is even older than me.”

He chuckled, finding some warped humor in it all.

“I felt cheated. I felt like that could be me…like that should be me…”

You didn’t know what to say. You’d have to be blind to deny that Chris was handsome. He was one of the most sought-after men in America, but your feelings had been fleeting…shallow. You thought Anthony and Sebastian and Tom were handsome too, but in an appreciative sort of way. That was how you saw Chris too.

“I’m…with Alex. You know that…”

He took your hands, scooting closer.

“…but could that have been me? Tell me the truth,” he pleaded.

“I…I don’t know-.”

“I think you do. I think you thought like I thought and pushed any desires out of your mind.”

Your mind was fuzzy, too much alcohol in your system to fully process this conversation. You moved to stand, but he held you in place.

“Chris, I think I should go…”

You trailed off when his lips met yours, and you jerked back, eyes wide.

“I have a boyfriend, you know that…”

“You haven’t answered my question,” he told you.

“I…I don’t know! But it doesn’t matter because I am with someone!”

“…and that someone could have been me.”

“But it’s not, so-.”

He kissed you again, wrapping his arms around you. You reached in between your bodies, pressing the palms of your hands against his chest. He moved back, but he brought you with him. He rolled you over until you were beneath him, and you made a noise of protest deep in your throat.

“Chris,” you mumbled into his lips, pushing against him again.

He was smooth in reaching under your dress to take hold of your underwear, pulling them down your legs with ease. You opened your mouth to protest again, but all that came out was a gasp when his hand slid between your thighs.

You shook in his arms as he played between your legs, fingers ghosting over you and prodding you until he was able to slide them into your soaking lips. A choked moan climbed out of your throat, and he hummed as his lips trailed down your chin, peppering kisses along your neck.

Your body felt light, limbs numb as you heard him fooling around with his pants, the sound of his zipper deafening in the quiet room. You knew what was about to happen. Your brain was screaming at you, but you couldn’t move. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or shock, but you were powerless to stop him.

You reached out to place your hands on his when he parted your legs, and you didn’t know if it was to pull his hands away…or not. You caught a glimpse of him as he settled between your legs, stomach sinking as you blinked at the sight of him…bare…for you.

“Chris,” you mumbled, unsure of what you were going to say.

It didn’t matter, anyway. His lips were covering yours as he pressed the head of his cock against your folds, prodding and prolonging the inevitable. You thought about Alex, and that sobered you up a bit, but it was too late.

You threw your head back against the mattress, nails digging into Chris’ hands as he thrust inside of you. The noise that escaped him was orgasmic, the deep sound causing you to clench around his length. He hissed at that before completely leaning over you, forearms pressed into the mattress beside your head as he started to move.

Shallow breaths left your lips as he pumped into you, the squelching sound of his retreat and entry reaching your ears. Your eyes were unfocused, hands coming up to rest on his sides as you started to moan. He joined you, bending his head to kiss you again and again.

There were odd brief moments at the start of filming where you idly wondered what it would be like to kiss Chris. You never imagined that you’d find out for sure. Then when you and Alex happened, you’d left those girlish and embarrassing fantasies behind. His lips were soft and sweet with the taste of whatever drink he’d had, and he moved them over yours with so much expertise it made your head spin.

“That feel good?” he breathlessly wondered, jerking his hips into yours.

You gave a shaky nod.

“U-uh-huh,” you gasped, clenching around him.

“God, you’re so beautiful… You know that?” he mumbled, kissing you again.

Your toes flexed, stomach clenching as well.

“I thought about you all last night,” he quietly professed. “I thought about your lips and these fucking thighs and how it’d feel to be in between them…”

“Chris,” you whined.

“You’re so tight,” he hissed in your ear. “Tighter than I’d imagined you’d be.”

One of your hands traveled to his back, bunching up his shirt and sweater.

“Chris,” you gasped, breath hitching. “Chris, I think…”

Your words died on your tongue as you moaned, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer. He groaned against your skin, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“You gonna come for me?”

You gave a jerky nod, tightening your grip on him. He hissed when you clenched around him again, blue eyes boring into your own.

“Yeah? You’re fucking choking my cock. A greedy little thing,” he murmured, never taking his eyes off of yours. “Come on, baby. Show me what I do to you…”

You shook in his arms as your climax rushed over you, legs trembling and eyes rolling as you clenched around him again and again. He wasn’t done, fucking you through it until you were an incoherent mess beneath him.

You never did rejoin Tessa on the dance floor.

tags: @harryspet @coconutqueen21 @readermia @nickyl316h

#Dark Fic #Dark fics #dark!chris evans #chris evans x reader #dark chris evans #dark chris evans x reader

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smaidjor · 3 years

Text

and i pay for my place by the ring (Chapter 2)

This chapter took me so fucking long but after much struggle I have completed it!

It was supposed to be 3-4k words. It was exactly 6069 pre-editing according to google docs.

You're welcome.

Chapter Title: with your blessing i will go

Chapter Wordcount: 6073

Content warnings: suicidal thoughts, self-esteem issues, discussion of death, non-graphic injury.

AO3

Chapter 1

i know they're losing (companion fic)

Actual fic under the cut:

The next few weeks are miserable, and if Scott tried to claim anything else, he would absolutely be lying to himself. Not that he doesn’t already do that, but he’s not too proud to admit that not seeing Jimmy is torturous. He knows he can’t, he’s firmly placed Jimmy on the off-limits list, but that doesn’t make the self-imposed rule any easier to follow. There’s still a part of him that wants to go running back to Jimmy’s arms, to beg for forgiveness and pray that Jimmy’s warmth is enough to curb the chill in his bones.

Scott shoves that part of him down firmly. He has no time to hesitate or regret, and he will not spend his days pining and sighing over a human. (Or so he tells himself.) He will be the perfect model of an elven king if that’s what it takes to gain his people’s respect, and he will make his parents proud, not that they’re around to see it. He will . Because Scott may not care about what the Council of Elders thinks of him- he hasn’t for twenty years now- but he does care that the people of Rivendell get a leader who cares for their wellbeing. It’s the least he can do, really.

So he takes on the meetings and the paperwork and the aching, gaping hole in his chest with grim determination, ignoring the way his hands always seem to shake a little and he can never quite get warm. It’s fine. Scott is fine. He’s not going to think about golden smiles or warm brown eyes or the look on Jimmy’s face when Scott told him it was over. He’s fine .

Flipping through the stack of official mail he’s received, Scott’s startled when his hand falls on an elegant cream envelope stamped with the crest of the Ocean Empire. How long has this been here? He hurries to get it open, nearly slicing himself on the letter opener in the process.

Out slides an official invitation in neat cursive.

To High King Scott Dangthatsalongname Smajor, Lord King of the Rivendell Empire,

You are cordially invited to a royal ball to be held at the palace of Ocean Queen Lizzie Ldshadowlady, Queen of the Northern Waves and Reefs, at 8 pm on the fifth of August.

Formal attire is required.

RSVP as soon as possible.

At the bottom of it, there’s a note in slightly more rushed handwriting.

Smajor- elvenking or not, I will not appreciate it if you mess with Jimmy in any way, shape or form. This ball is to be a peaceful affair, and I will not hesitate to intervene should anything occur.

Lizzie

Scott winces. He...can’t say he doesn’t deserve the warning, any more than he can say that it doesn’t hurt to be warned away from his own husband. Ex-husband, he quickly reminds himself, reaching for stationary to pen a response.

Dear Ocean Queen Lizzie Ldshadowlady, Queen of the Northern Waves and Reefs,

He stops, giving it a bit of thought. Would avoiding Jimmy be worth the political consequences of refusing an invitation like this? No, he concedes reluctantly, it wouldn’t. He can always just avoid Jimmy at the ball- Lizzie would probably be happy for it, honestly. She’s been protective over him from the start. Scott puts the pen back to paper.

Luckily, I will be able to attend the ball. It sounds like a wonderful event and I eagerly anticipate it. As for your note, I will avoid antagonizing Jimmy as much as possible. I would hate to sacrifice diplomatic relations between our kingdoms for a petty squabble. Will that be satisfactory?

Sincerely,

High King Scott Dangthatsalongname Smajor

What’s going on between him and Jimmy is far more than a petty squabble, but Lizzie doesn’t need to know that. It’s fine. It’s not like he’s going to run into Jimmy anyways, right?

The day of the ball arrives, and Scott spends far too long choosing an outfit. He’s not vain, not usually, but...Jimmy will be there. You’re not supposed to want to impress him , Scott scolds himself, but that doesn’t stop him from wearing his nicest golden jewelry. The rest of his outfit is far more strategically planned- long skirts to hide how terrible his balance is when he’s near-constantly struggling to get a full breath into his lungs, gloves to keep his dance partners from questioning his cold hands.

The ball is already in full swing by the time he arrives, the trip from Rivendell taking longer than he thought it would. He’s still greeted by the Ocean Queen herself, though, gliding over in her stunning ballgown of blue and green.

“Welcome!” Her smile is bright, warm in a way he almost envies.

Scott dips his head just enough to be respectful but not so much as to truly defer to her. He thinks that’s right, anyways; he hasn’t had to think about that particular part of etiquette lessons in some twenty years. “Thank you, Queen Lizzie. I apologize for my lateness, the trip was a bit harrowing.”

“No problem at all, I just hope you enjoy the ball!” Lizzie’s smile gains a sharper edge. “I appreciated your letter, by the way. Thank you for your promise to keep it civil, King Smajor. Now we just all have to follow through on our words!” She accompanies that bit with a little laugh, but Scott’s not a fool enough to take it as anything but a warning. She doesn’t want trouble at her ball, and who would, really?

“Hopefully we can manage at least that,” he offers wryly, earning another laugh and a bright “Hopefully!”

Scott doesn’t mean to cause trouble at the ball, he really doesn’t. But before he has a chance to even get a look around, Jimmy’s standing in front of him. And oh, this really isn’t how he hoped it’d go.

“Lord Codfather,” Scott greets, swallowing the lump in his throat. Jimmy cleans up nicely- really nicely- but Scott’s eyes keep going to the scar on his throat, the permanent reminder of how fragile and mortal Jimmy really is.

“Elvenking,” Jimmy says. The formality sounds awkward in his bright voice, and Scott wants to kiss the uncertainty right off his face. “Care for a dance?”

He can’t- he should, Scott knows. There would be value to an alliance with Jimmy, and he has no good reason to turn him down. That’s not why he says yes, though. It’s that look in Jimmy’s eyes, the hope poorly disguised by indifference. He’s so optimistic. Scott shouldn't encourage it, but he can’t find it in himself to break that fragile hope just yet.

“I suppose I wouldn’t mind,” Scott says finally. He takes Jimmy’s outstretched hand in his own gloved one; Vilya rests on Jimmy’s finger, still, and it’s a battle to keep the memories of giving Jimmy that ring at bay. He wins that battle, though, letting Jimmy put a hand on his waist as they start into a simple waltz.

Jimmy is a terrible dancer, and Scott knows it. He steps on Scott’s feet, he gets off-rhythm- he’s frankly not made for dancing, much as the way he hums along to the tune is adorable. His hair, which was probably once nicely styled, has already fallen out of place, and his tunic is a little wrinkled. His hands are rough, tough from all the work he does with them, and his face has a tiny bit of mud on it that he must have missed when getting ready. He looks very much like a sweet little swamp boy, out of place in the midst of all the more elegant and powerful rulers.

He’s the most beautiful thing Scott’s ever seen.

Unlike the last time they danced, back in 3rd life where Jimmy leaned on Scott for balance as he tried to learn the complicated steps, this time it’s Scott clinging to Jimmy for stability. He feels bad about how harsh his grip gets, but he can’t afford to show weakness. He has to stay on his feet.

Scott’s silently thankful when the dance ends and he can lead them off the dance floor. He’s exhausted and shaky, and he’s not sure how much longer he can be around Jimmy without breaking down or doing something very stupid.

“Thank you for the dance, Codfather,” Scott says. He takes a step back, banishing the lingering emotion of their dance.

A beat of silence, and then.

“Can we please stop acting like we don’t know each other?” Jimmy demands, earning a ripple of gasps from nearby guests.

“What else do you want from me?” Scott snaps back, anger rising to fill the gap in his chest.

“I- something! Anything! Just acknowledge that I exist, won’t you?”

Scott swallows down the lump in his throat. “Acknowledging you exist doesn’t mean I can still be in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” Jimmy says. He sounds so bitter, so tired. “I know , trust me. I just want you to stop- to stop hurting yourself to try and avoid pain!”

“That’s not what I’m do-”

Jimmy cuts him off, a rare occurrence. “Then what are you doing? Enlighten me, o wise elf! You told me it would destroy you to lose me, but you’re losing me now by pushing me away!”

His chest tightens, and he can barely force the words out. “I’m trying to do what’s best for the both of us, Jimmy.”

“No you’re-”

It’s Scott’s turn to cut him off. “I am an elf, and I cannot love a mortal. Humans are quick flames, burning and changing quickly. You’ll fall in love again, and you’ll forget me.” It hurts, but it’s true. There will be a mortal who loves you- I’m sure there are many already.” Jimmy’s so wonderful, there are bound to be others who see it.

“But I don’t want a mortal,” Jimmy says. It’s almost childish, but his next words still break Scott’s heart. “I want you. ”

“You can’t have me.” Scott is vividly aware of the fact that there are eyes on him, that their little spat has attracted the attention of the rest of the ballroom.

“But why? Why, Scott?” Jimmy’s voice breaks, and the crack in it is damn near enough to make Scott lose his tiny bit of remaining self-control. “You said you loved me, you promised me all the time we’d be able to- to carve out, to steal from the universe.” It sounds like an accusation, and maybe it is. Scott did promise him that, after all, and then he went back on it.

It wasn’t for no reason, though. He needs Jimmy to understand that it was for a reason. “I can’t give you that!” He snaps back, and his hands tremble when they try to form fists by his side. “You’ll live sixty more years, maybe, a fraction of my life, a blink of an eye to an elf, and I can’t even give you that long! Not when I have to be the elvenking before anything else. Nothing I can do will ever be enough for you.” It’s bitter, but it’s true. Scott can’t be enough for anyone, in the end.

“Enough for me? For ME?”Jimmy’s voice rises in outrage. “All I want is for you not to die to your own dumb plan and acknowledge my existence once in a while!”

Scott’s voice rises in response. “And all I want is for you to realize I can’t love you again!”

“Why can’t you care about me?”

“Why can’t you move on?”

“You’re not moving on, you’re just trying to forget!” Jimmy shouts.

Scott falls silent, breathing hard as the ballroom goes quiet around them. He spots Lizzie sweeping through the crowd, coming to a stop next to Jimmy.

“Is everything alright, boys?” She’s smiling, but it’s strained, and her eyes promise death if this quarrel was Scott’s fault.

“My apologies, Ocean Queen,” he says, and he tries to gather his composure as he dips his head to her. “Everything is alright, but I am afraid I will have to leave early.” He doesn’t look at Jimmy.

She smiles again, dangerous this time. “No need to worry, Lord Smajor. Do try to avoid picking fights with my allies, next time, though.”

“It won’t happen again,” he promises, and he only nearly stumbles when he turns to leave.

Distantly, he can hear Jimmy shout after him. “Coward!” The word is harsh, but there’s hurt beneath it. “You’re a coward, Scott!”

Scott stumbles away all the quicker.

He keeps composed all the way out the doors and most of the way down the stairs until he’s sure no one can see him from the ballroom. It’s only then that he breaks into a run, lifting up his stupid skirts so he doesn’t fall. One shoe falls off, a twisted parody of a children’s fairy tale, and he doesn’t bother to retrieve it. The prismarine stabs at his exposed foot, but Scott doesn’t have the energy to care. Instead, he beats his wings, trying to get enough momentum for a good takeoff.

For a few precious moments, he gets off the ground, and then he remembers Jimmy’s face as he left, wingbeats stuttering with the sudden emotion, and tumbles back to the rough prismarine path. It hurts , it does, but it’s nothing on the pain in his chest. Nothing on the words still echoing in his head. Coward! You’re a coward, Scott!

Scott lays there for a moment, half-wondering if anyone’s coming after him. It’s unlikely, he knows, given how badly he messed things up. He tells himself that that’s a good thing, that he doesn’t want anyone to come looking. He doesn’t need them. He should be strong.

Before anyone has time to notice or be concerned, he’s forced himself back to his feet, starting the takeoff sequence all over again.

This time, he gets in the air with little difficulty, though he lists to the side as he favors his right wing, which took the brunt of the fall. It’s fine. He’s fine, he doesn’t need help.

If Scott believed in the elven gods anymore, he would thank them for the fact that he gets back to Rivendell at all. There are tears blurring his vision, and every part of his body aches, his chest most of all. His flight is shaky at best, outright dangerous at worst, crashing into trees and rocks and the ground multiple times. Each time, he barely picks himself back up before mobs arrive. Sometimes, he questions if he should at all. He’s as good as dead anyways. And yet, the tiny stubborn part of him that got him through 3rd life won’t let him just lay down and die. For some reason, even though he’s slept enough recently (he thinks, anyways), there are phantoms on him. They sense when their prey is sleep-deprived, Scott knows, and wonders if he’s just weak enough to seem that way to them.

By the time he crash-lands on the mountainside, it’s pushing two in the morning, and Scott is more dead than alive. Not that he hasn’t been for a while now, he thinks, and laughs aloud to himself, bitter.

The night watch give him strange looks, but both elves on guard duty obligingly dip their heads when he stumbles by. He barely musters the energy to nod back.

Finally he makes it back to his house, slamming his door behind him and burying his face in his hands. This is the right thing to do, why does it hurt so much? He already lost Jimmy once, why does it feel like he’s losing him all over again when he never really got him back in the first place?

Someone coughs lightly, breaking through his thoughts. The voice is familiar when they speak- one of his advisors. “Lord Smajor? Any major events we should know of at the ball?”

Cold. Calm. Scott knows this is the way of the elves- their royalty cannot dare be human. “The Codfather’s our enemy and the Ocean Queen probably hates us too.” He doesn’t bother trying to make himself sound calm and collected, pushing off the wall and stalking towards the stairs.

“What?” The advisor’s voice pitches up in shock. “What did you do?”

“None of your business.”

“You cannot have embarrassed the elven realm at the largest event of the year-”

“It wasn’t like I was fucking trying to,” He snaps.

A gasp. “Language.”

“Fuck off.”

They hurry after him, making to follow him up the stairs. “Lord Smajor-”

Scott turns to face them, taking in the shock and rage painted across their ancient face. “Leave me be.”

“Do not disrespect your elders,” the advisor scolds. “I remember when you were a child, you always were reckless, but this is a new level of disrespect! Why, Xornoth would never-”

“ Enough ,” he hisses. “Do not talk about my sibling.”

They freeze, a bit of genuine fear creeping onto their face. “My lord-”

“Get out of my house,” Scott snarls.

They wisely obey. Scott slumps against the banister as the surge of adrenaline abates, suddenly exhausted. He’s freezing, he realizes, a bone-deep chill that he doesn’t bother to pretend is from his trip home. Scott’s done lying to himself- he’s in pain, and he’s in love, but then again, those equate to roughly the same thing when all’s said and done. You can’t have heartbreak without love or love without heartbreak. (But oh how he wishes he could.)

Scott doesn’t get out of bed the next day, and no one dares try to force him. Varying members of Rivendell’s Council of Elders make a decent shot at trying to convince him, but all it takes is him fixing them with his dead-eyed stare to make them leave. The people of Rivendell are used to their ruler’s odd sleep schedule by now, brushing it off easily, and the empire itself is mostly functional without him. So instead of getting up and dealing with the corruption or making sure Rivendell’s stores are prepared for winter or any of the things he should be doing, Scott lays there in his own misery and thinks about Jimmy screaming that he’s a coward.

He’s right, that’s the worst part. Scott is a coward. He’s scared of Xornoth and the corruption and never, ever being enough, he’s scared of responsibility and his own mind, he’s scared of fading and dying alone, and- most of all- he’s absolutely terrified of how much he loves Jimmy.

His father warned him about fading, once, back before Scott was expected to carry a crown on his brow and the weight of a nation on his shoulders. He bounced Scott on his knee and told him that elven hearts are fragile, too fragile for how strongly they love. “Don’t fall too deep in love, son,” he said, and the words carried the weight of years of grief. “Don’t care too much about any one person, not if you want to live to be a legend of the ages. Doesn’t matter what kind of love it is, love can be lethal.”

Scott didn’t listen, of course- reckless, rebellious Scott, who never once listened to his elders, went and did the most dangerous thing an elf could do. He fell in love with a human.

And now he’s dying. Surely that gives him a pass to wallow in his own misery for a day or two. He’s been brave for so long, can’t he just rest a few moments? Just...just a few. He’ll just lay here a bit longer.

At that moment, the front door creaks open somewhere below him.

“My lord? Can I come up?” Someone calls from below. Their voice is also familiar- Gilnar. Gilnar’s a good captain of the guard. Dutiful, clever, and far more willing to respect him than most of Rivendell’s high ranking elves.

“If you’ve come to convince me to get up, it won’t work,” Scott calls back.

Gilnar’s head peeks over the railing a moment later. “Nope, not here for that. Just thought I’d check in, y’know?” The Sindarin words sound almost musical in their accent, rolling up and down with a unique sort of rhythm.

“Alright.”

“Are you okay, my lord?”

“No.” He’s done lying. “Leave me be.”

Gilnar shakes their head. “Sorry, my lord, can’t do that.”

“If you’re going to tell me my people need me, don’t waste your breath. I know .” Scott’s voice cracks on the last word, just a little.

“Not that either. But with all due respect, seems a little like you’re givin’ up on yourself just a bit, my lord.” They lean against the railing.

“What do you mean by that?”

They cough, a little awkwardly. “The soul-sickness. The fading.”

Scott’s mouth opens and closes, and he sputters. “How-”

“Trainin’ with the royal guard a few weeks back, your hands were freezin’ and your balance was off. You haven’t gotten up at a reasonable hour in weeks, and, well, with all due respect- I know what heartbreak looks like.”

He’s silent for a moment, utterly floored. “What do you mean by giving up?”

“Well, Lauriel and I were talkin’, and….your love’s still alive, isn’t he? The Codfather?”

“How did you-”

Gilnar flashes him a tiny grin. “He’s not subtle, and neither are you. Plus, he has Vilya.”

Deciding to shove that to the back of his mind for now, Scott sighs. “He’s a mortal, Gilnar. I’m not giving up anything that I won’t already lose in sixty years or so.”

“Luthien loved Beren, didn’t she?”

“I am not Luthien. I cannot sing so well that the gods grant me pardon.”

“And Idril loved Tuor.”

“I am not Idril. I cannot bring Jimmy to the Undying Lands.”

“Arwen still loved Aragorn.”

“I am not Arwen. I do not have the choice to give up my immortal life.”

Gilnar’s smile turns sad. “Caranthir still loved Haleth. And Celebrimbor loved Narvi just the same, didn’t he? The doomed love all the more fiercely, my lord.”

“The rest of the elves won’t be happy with me,” Scott points out.

“You think Thingol and Turgon and Elrond were happy when their daughters loved mortals? You think Luthien’s people didn’t scorn Beren at first?”

Scott doesn’t have any retort to that, and Gilnar hops up from their seat on the banister. “Well, I need to get back to my duties, my lord. Good luck with your swamp boy!”

They’re gone as soon as they arrive, and Scott stares up at the ceiling, his thoughts dragging him along a spiral of emotion.

“Coward! You’re a coward, Scott!”

Scott is a coward. He’s a liar and a coward. Nothing he does will ever be right.

“Don’t fall too deep in love, son.”

Scott did, though. Like the idiot he is, he fell in love with someone the universe didn’t want him to have.

“Caranthir still loved Haleth.”

He did. And he paid for it. Does it matter? Scott thinks that losing Jimmy might be a price worth paying for the joy of loving him.

“You cannot have embarrassed the elven realm at the largest event of the year-”

Scott didn’t mean to, but he still messed up and shouted at Jimmy. He’s a failure. Jimmy could do better. He deserves better.

“I don’t want a mortal. I want you .”

Jimmy’s so stupid. Stupid Codfather with his stupid bright eyes and stupid, stupid insistence on not giving up on someone he should never have loved to begin with. Scott loves him so much more than he could ever put into words.

“With all due respect, seems a little like you’re givin’ up on yourself just a bit, my lord.”

Jimmy deserves an apology. Scott won’t give up.

(Not on Jimmy, anyways.)

It takes him nearly a month of furious work to make the precious mithril bracelet, refining it over and over again. He picks the flowers and their meanings carefully- love, hope, protection- and the crystals too. Amethysts for protection, carefully traded for filled with any bit of magic he can spare for them. The lettering carved into the underside is yet another layer of blessings and meaning; he does it in Quenya, the Tengwar script, which Scott knows Jimmy can’t read. He has to look up how to write in it after so many years of never so much as looking at elven script, pouring over old books by candlelight. By day, he rules an empire, relying on the rush of adrenaline and motivation to carry him through even on the days when he’s swaying on his feet by the end. By night, he works on a courtship project like none he’s made before until at last, at nearly three in the morning one night, it’s finished.

It’s not the most beautiful it could have been. Scott isn’t one of the great Noldor smiths of old, he’s just an elf in love. His hands are perpetually shaky nowadays, and he has limited time to work on it between every other responsibility in his life. But every centimeter of it is handmade with all the care he could muster, and that has to count for something.

Scott hardly wants to wait to give it to Jimmy, but he forces himself to try and wait for morning. His anxiety doesn’t let him sleep much, exhausted as he is, but he curls up under the covers and stares at the bracelet on his nightstand. He doesn’t want to take his eyes off it, half-convinced it will vanish if he does. Eventually, his eyes slide shut of their own will, carrying him into an uneasy sleep.

He wakes up long after the sun's risen, staggering out of bed and throwing on a cloak for the journey to Jimmy’s. The cold that he’s been banishing with the warmth of a forge has returned tenfold, and he’s shivering despite elves normally being resistant to chills. When he takes a glance at himself in the mirror, he finds that his hair is out of place, there’s a streak of ink across his cheek, and the dark circles under his eyes look like bruises. He looks a mess, and he doesn’t care. Jimmy is all that matters now.

The journey’s both long and rough, and his landing in the swamp is more like a frantic swan dive out of the sky. Luckily, though, the ground is soft here, and Scott’s able to pick himself up and hurry for Jimmy’s house, ignoring the stares of a few Codland citizens. He knocks, heart in his throat as he waits for the door to open.

The hinges squeak, and suddenly Jimmy’s standing there, a mix of emotions that Scott doesn’t even want to try and comprehend scattered across his face. He looks a little sleepy despite the fact that it must be near noon, and so very sweet with his hair falling in his face. The sight of him knocks the air right out of Scott’s lungs, and he has to struggle to remember why he’s here again for a long moment as they stare at each other.

“Hi,” Scott says weakly.

“Scott? What- why are you here?” Jimmy sounds outraged, and Scott can’t blame him.

Scott swallows hard. “I came to apologize.” His tired brain scrambles for words, something, anything to convey how truly sorry he is. “I was scared- I am scared. I’m terrified to lose you again. But I shouldn’t have pushed you away and hurt you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have!” Jimmy snaps.

“I know.” God, he didn’t expect it to hurt this much to hear the rage in Jimmy’s voice. “I- uh- fuck.” Scott fumbles to get the box he put the bracelet in, holding it out. “I brought a gift as an apology.”

Jimmy’s silent for a long moment, examining the bracelet. Scott barely dares breathe as he turns it over and over in his hands, tracing the flower designs with his fingertips. “Did you make this yourself?”

“Mhm. I did my best, but it’s not as nice as I’d like.” And, well, isn’t that just the story of his life?

“It’s pretty,” Jimmy says. He sounds genuine.

Scott lets out a breath, letting some of the tension go. “It’s spelled, too. Protection, good fortune, that sort of thing.”

“Do the flowers mean something?”

“They do.”

Jimmy doesn’t press for details.

“I-” Scott starts, and then pauses. What does he say? An apology would be a start, maybe. “I’m sorry, Jimmy, I really am. I won’t ask you to forgive me, but I needed to apologize before my time ran out.” It’s the truth, as wholly as he can bear to give it.

“Is it that- that dire?” Jimmy’s voice shakes a little, and Scott gives a tiny nod.

“This is what I chose to do with it. Making that, coming here. You deserved an apology.”

Jimmy goes quiet again. His eyes are still on the bracelet, and Scott can hardly breathe again.

Finally, he can’t take the tension. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to love me. I can’t promise you eternity. I can’t promise you happiness. I can’t promise you that I won’t have to be the elvenking first and a husband second. But I am still yours-” he’s always been, really- “if you’ll have me.”

The silence that falls after that is even more stifling than the previous two. Scott doesn’t expect Jimmy to want him back- far from it. He’s putting his heart in Jimmy’s hands, but he doesn’t expect anything other than it shattering on the floor. Maybe Jimmy will be kind enough to let him down gently, but Scott’s fragile enough that it would only take a tiny nudge to break him. And yet he can’t stop the tiny bit of hope that blooms, though it dwindles minute by minute as Jimmy stares and stares. Finally, he opens his mouth to make his apologies again and leave to his frozen, icy empire-

And then there are hands in his hair and lips on his, warm and sudden and bold. Scott gives a little startled gasp, which is swallowed up by Jimmy’s kiss. Their noses knock together and Jimmy’s teeth click against his just a little in their haste, but Scott’s far too overwhelmed by the sudden rush of warmth to care.

When Jimmy finally pulls away, Scott’s left breathless, cheeks warm in a way no part of him has been since Jimmy died in 3rd life.

He barely pulls himself together enough to manage a wry little “So, I’ll take that as you want to stay married?”

“Of course I do! You absolute idiot!”

Jimmy sounds so startled and offended at the idea that he wouldn’t , Scott’s not sure whether to laugh or cry. “Just checking.”

Jimmy kisses him again in response, and who’s Scott to protest? No, he’s more than happy to let Jimmy pull him close and kiss away the lingering sorrow. When Jimmy pulls away this time, he’s left dizzy, half caught up in the euphoria of being loved, half terrified that this is only a cruel dream.

By the time Scott collects himself again, Jimmy’s holding out the bracelet to him. “Can you help me put this on?”

Scott can only nod, fumbling with the clasp a little. It’s not complicated, but his hands aren’t steady, and it takes him a moment to get it. Jimmy grabs his hands when he lets go, and he’s so warm that Scott can’t muster the energy to even question why.

“Come in and catch up with me?” Jimmy offers.

Scott nods again, and he can’t bear to let go of Jimmy’s hand when Jimmy turns to go inside.

They talk a lot, Jimmy more than Scott. Scott learns that Jimmy’s been picked on by other rulers (no surprise, but his blood still boils at the thought), and he shares minimal details about what he’s been up to. Jimmy doesn’t need to hear about Scott’s issues, he’s already dealing with enough.

Eventually, though, the sun is starting to set.

“I need to get home,” Scott says, though he has to force himself to. “You need sleep, not to stay up all night talking.” He goes to get up, and Jimmy immediately lunges, catching his sleeve.

“Don’t go! Please.” Jimmy sounds almost afraid, which instantly sets off alarm bells.

“Jimmy, darling, we both need to sleep,” Scott tells him, very patiently.

“We can sleep! I just….nevermind.”

Now the alarm bells are really going off in Scott’s head. He knows when his husband is hiding something serious, and Jimmy’s frantic tone isn’t helping his worry. “No, no. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jimmy claims.

Scott frowns at him lightly. “ Jimmy .”

That’s all it takes. “I don’t want to be alone!” Jimmy blurts. He’s blushing a little. “It’s just, I’ve been alone for a long time, and there’s this demon thing that keeps showing up, and I’ve only just got you back, I’m not ready to let you go, and-”

Oh, Jimmy . Scott holds up a hand in a ‘stop’ gesture. “Hold on. What was that about a demon?”

“There’s this demon creature that I keep seeing, and it’s really messing with me. It sounds like you, sometimes, but all distorted, and I can’t handle it! You know me, I’m not brave or smart or anything, I’m just Jimmy!” Jimmy’s voice pitches up with distress, and Scott’s heart aches for him.

“Alright,” he says, as gently as he can manage. “How about you come to Rivendell for the night, then? I can protect us both easier there.” More like, Aeor can protect them. Scott’s useless, even with Vilya.

Jimmy nods and takes Scott’s hand with a tiny little “Thank you.”

“Always,” Scott murmurs. It comes out softer than he means it to, though it’s the truth. He’ll always do whatever he can to protect Jimmy, which is why he asks “Do you still have the ring I gave you?”

“I do, I just… give me a moment to remember where I put it.”

“Good. It’s important.” Vilya is one of the most important parts of his heritage, actually, and his advisors would pitch a fit if they knew he had given it to a mortal. For once, he can’t bring himself to care what his advisors would think, though. Jimmy is important, more important than any piece of jewelry.

Jimmy follows Scott to Rivendell, and Scott can’t resist a proud smile when Jimmy praises the buildings. He takes Jimmy inside, lets him curl up under the warm covers, his head tucked against Scott’s chest, and it’s only once Jimmy’s asleep that Scott lets himself break. He’s so tired , so utterly exhausted from being brave for so long. Even now that his husband is curled up next to him, warm and solid and real, he can hardly believe that Jimmy actually wanted him back- wanted him at all, really. Scott doesn’t want to move for fear of waking up Jimmy, but luckily for him, he’s good at crying silently. That’s what he does, tears slipping down his face to wet the pillow below. Only the faintest whimper escapes his lips, a tiny broken noise that he’s embarrassed of even in this emotional state. And when another slips out, he buries his face in Jimmy’s hair and forces himself back into silence. He’s not going to cry over the best thing that’s ever happened to him, he isn’t , but he’s just so tired of being alone that being with someone else is almost painful in contrast; he’s so cold that the slightest touch of warmth feels burning.

Jimmy shifts in his sleep, mumbling something that sounds vaguely affectionate and pulling Scott closer, and Scott nearly chokes from the effort of restraining a sob. Gods, Jimmy . He could die like this, tucked in his husband’s arms, and he doesn’t think he’d regret it.

“I love you,” he whispers into the night. It comes out choked. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry, Jimmy, I’m so sorry.”

Jimmy mumbles something that sounds a lot like “I love you too”, and that’s what really breaks Scott. It’s a miracle Jimmy doesn’t wake up, really, with Scott’s quiet sobs shaking the mattress. He cries until he’s all out of tears, as silently as he can manage, and only then does he slip into a sound sleep.

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #flower husbands #empires smp #my writing

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taehyungsgrowl · 5 years

Note

For the blurb promps could you do Valentine by 5sos for Michael or Jim? That's my absolute favorite song by 5sos at the moment.

This was one of my very first (if not my first) request I ever got! I started this, back when you sent it (back in January! because I remember wanting to get it out before Valentine’s Day.) I recently refound it and decided I would finish it so.

LIKE. I STARTED THIS A YEAR AGO! WHY DID IT TAKE ME SO LONG TO FINISH I HATE MYSELF.

Love you bunches and thank you for sharing your concepts w me binch!

A/N: here is some built up tension between reader and semi dark-jim.

Jim made his way to the crowded kitchen where he knew his friends would be causing a riot. Another night; another party. As soon as he stepped inside he caught sight of her. He noticed the way the leather mini skirt clung to her curves and elongated her legs. His eyes lingered up her body, stopping at the low cut of the red top that boasted her chest. Y/N.

She was perched on the kitchen counter, legs parted slightly, drink in hand. Amusement spread across Jim’s face seeing her there. He noted how she had the room in a daze, clinging to her every word. The thing about Y/N was you either wanted to be her or be with her. She had a certain pull. Even Jim, couldn’t resist her lust clouded eyes and sinful pout. No matter how much he wanted to.

He strode his way to her side, casually barging his way into the conversation. He threw his arm lazily over her shoulder, smirking down at her, “Hey, princess.” he said, tongue between his teeth, “Surprised to see you hanging out with these cockheads,” he nodded at his friends. The comment was received by groans and middle fingers. Most of his buddies rolling their eyes in his direction. They knew Jim could pull any girl he wanted; he demonstrated that for them time and time again. Except for Y/N.

Not yet, at least.

Before all bullshit that shaped them into who they were. Jim and Y/N were… friendly. Both outcasts who hid under the bleachers before school and found console in each other. That was until Jim recruited himself into they Bay Boy crew. That left Y/N to reinvent herself; and reinvent herself she did. Long gone was the girl who blushed at the slightest attention and hid behind her hair.

It took those sudden changes for guys, including Jim, to see her in a different way.

Y/N rolled her eyes at Jim and removed his arm from her shoulder with a perfectly manicured hand. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this little game up with Jim. She loved the permanent chase.

There was no denying the tension. Both Jim and Y/N knew it was only a matter of time before one of them broke.

“Don’t see how it’s any of your business who I decide to give my attention to,” she quipped, eyeing him up and down a bit. Her focus lingered on the way his Adam’s apple jumped slightly under his skin.

“Didn’t say it was,” he bit the corner of his lip to keep from smiling, “just surprised is all.” he ran a hand through his locks, hazy eyes dancing up her body.

Jim slipped his hand in his pocket to retrieve his joint, taking it in between his index and thumb, showing it to her, “Why don’t you join me outside? Like old times?” he leaned in close enough to smell the alcohol from her cup.

Y/N scrunched her nose at him, hopping off the counter. She patted her small hands against his chest. She wanted him to know who was winning this little charade. “I have better things to do than that. Step up your game, Jimmy,” she smirked before turning on her heels to leave the crowded kitchen.

Jim’s blood boiled in the best way. The harder she played to get, the more he wanted to wreck her. He wanted to have her at his mercy.

Y/N swayed her hips from side to side as she walked away without looking back, she knew his eyes were glued to her. She made her way to the hurdle of bodies bumping and grinding on each other - mixing in and just waiting for a firm pair of hands to find her hips.

“What’s the matter, Jim?” one of his friends snickered, nodding his head towards the makeshift dance floor..

Jim pushed past him and followed after Y/N

As the night continued, stolen glances and teasing touches were exchanged between her and Jim. She made sure to brush against him every time she refreshed her drink and he never missed the chance to place his hands on the small of her back.

She and him were fueling the fire that was bound to combust.

Jim noticed Y/N walk away from the makeshift dance floor and into the kitchen and followed behind her.

He reached for her pretty little hand and spun her around, cornering her against the wall. With one hand at her hip and the other against the wall, he looked down at her, devilish smirk on his face.

“Have a smoke with me,” he didn’t quite ask, nodding towards the door.

“You and I both know that’s not what you’re asking,” she wet her lips, feeling her heart rate increase at his proximity. Her senses were filled with his scent of faint sandalwood, and vanilla.

Y/N shook her head in slight laughter. She had to admit this dance was getting old. Each time they saw each other they got closer and closer to giving into their little game. It was only a matter of time of who would cave first.

She knew what she needed to do to get Jim riled up. She dressed the part, she toyed with his friends, she reacted quickly to his advances.

Even if Jim wouldn’t admit, she knew she was winning. Y/N had him in the palm of her hand.

“But I’ll bite,” she tried to get out of his trap, but Jim needed to take matters into his own hands. He grabbed her wrist and led her outside, ignoring all the glances he got from the other party goers.

“Good.” he grinned at the double meaning of her words. He took her wrist and led her outside. He ignored all the glances they got from other party goers.

They climbed into his Jeep and Jim turned on his music nice and low. His dashboard illuminated their faces softly. She turned to look at him, excitement bubbling in her tummy. Of course, she’d rather blame it on the alcohol rather than the look Jim was giving her.

He was practically eating her with his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you lured me out all the way for nothing, Mason.” she snapped him out of his sinful imagination.

“Don’t worry, I always deliver, princess.” he took out his lighter and lit hit bud.

“Since when did we start with this ‘princess’ shit?” she laughed taking the joint from his hand and inhaling deeply.

“Since you started going around acting like a little brat,” he was quick to take back his blunt.

Y/N rolled her eyes. She had to admit being called ‘princess’ by him did something to her.

“A brat?” she feigned innocence. Y/N leaned over the console a bit, her hand brushing against his thigh.

Jim grabbed her by the wrist, bringing his hand away from his crotch. “Don’t you think that’s enough?” his voice was low and stern. “I think we’re both getting tired of this little chase, no?”

“I don’t know wh-” she began. She felt herself getting wetter by the second. She shifted in his leather seat.

He cut her off. “Cut the bullshit. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Jim slid his seat back, allowing her room to climb into his lap. “C’mere.” he patted his thigh.

Y/N knew there was no point in hesitating anymore. She wanted this - wanted him so much - it was like a burning fire in her tummy. She hitched her leg over and straddled him. Jim took another hit of his joint before putting it out. He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her in. He exhaled the smoke into her mouth as the kissed. She didn’t know what was making her more lightheaded - the weed or his kiss.

Jim almost allowed himself to get lost in her lips. He’s wanted her for so long - he almost caved in. He pulled away from her lips (enjoying the whimper that came out of her when he did) and placed his hand on her thigh, slowly rubbing up and down. Her leather miniskirt had hitched up higher during her transition into his lap. It gave him a clear view of her red lacy panties she wore underneath.

She rocked her hips on his lap instinctively. The slight friction from his finger wasn’t enough.

“Who made you this wet?” he ghosted his lips over hers.

“Stop teasing me,” she spoke against his mouth.

“Not so fun now, huh princess.” his hand smacked down on her ass.

“Please, Jim.” she whined

“Up,” he commanded for her to raise her hips enough for him to get his cock out of his pants.

All the while, Y/N brought her hands in between her thighs and moved her panties to the side for Jim to enter her. He grabbed her hips and pushed her down on his cock. They had been stuck in a game of foreplay for far too long. He needed to be inside her dripping cunt.

His cock pushed past her lips and deep into her pussy. “Fuck,” he groaned, tightening his grip on her hips.

Y/N let out a shaky breath as he adjusted to him being inside her. The head of his cock brushed against her G-spot with every breath she took. As soon as the stinging of his girth buzzed around her, she began to bounce down on him.

There was no other way to describe her movements other than needy and completely desperate for release.

“My little whore,” he panted, “Keep going.” his hips bucked upwards.

“Fuck yourself on my cock.” he continued to push her.

“Did teasing me so much finally catch up to you, baby?” Jim gripped her ass in his massive hand before spanking her again. “Getting me all jealous in front of friends turned you on?” he half moaned, feeling his cock twitch.

Y/N leaned forward and kissed him hard and sloppy, “Shut up,” she groaned against his kiss, her pussy pulsing for him.

Jim grabbed her face and deepened the kiss. His hand wrapped around her throat loosely as he held her there. Y/N began to slow down the roll of her hips. “Didn’t say you could slow down,” he mumbled into her mouth.

He began to tighten the grip on her neck as she tried to pick up her pace. Jim alternated between quick firm presses to her neck and slow caresses that added pressure gradually.

That only made Y/N’s concentration falter. The only thing on her mind was his cock and the chase of her orgasm.

“Please.” she managed to get out in a breath.

“Oh, she does have manners..” he chuckled releasing her neck. He spit on the tips of his fingers and placed them over her clit, rubbing hard, fast circles.

“I’m gonnna cum, Jim.” she moaned, her eyes rolling back.

“Go on, baby.”

On his word, she felt her legs shaking and her mind going white hot. She rode out her orgasm with slow grinds of her hips, milking out one for Jim.

“Fuck. Keep going baby.” his teeth were clenched, “I’m - fuck.” he couldn’t finish his sentence before he let himself explode inside her.

They stayed like that for a minute as they caught their breaths. The inside of her thighs felt sticky, but she didn’t move an inch as Jim’s softening cock stayed inside her.

“Worth the chase?” she asked with a sleepy smile, lifting herself off of him and adjusting her skirt. She was well aware of Jim’s gaze on her as she pushed her panties back over her pussy, trapping in his cum.

His eyes remained on her legs for a split second longer before finally looking back at her. It was rare to find Jim Mason speechless, but this was one of those times. He simply nodded and pulled her mouth back on his.

“Ready to go back inside?” she giggled as she pulled away after their kiss.

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, princess.” he smirked.

–

thank you again for being patient sweet friend and im sorry if this doesnt fit the request you wanted!!!

mini tags: @rpwithjayn @wickedlangdon @langdonswhoreprobably @desertsunflower00 @rocketgirl2410 @dark-jim @leatherduncan @little-grunge-flowerz @lovelylangdonx @wroteclassicaly @lvngdvns @moonanonwriting @satcnas @hecohansen31

#getdevils #jim mason #jim mason x reader #jim mason smut #ttopv #cody fern #the tribes of palos verdes

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revisitingstoneybrook · 4 years

Text

#8 Boy-Crazy Stacey: Chapter 11

Stacey throws herself a pity party, Mary Anne’s not amused and Byron Pike is a magical child who fixes everything.

Now we have a postcard from Mary Anne to Dawn. And she spends most of it venting about Stacey. She tells Dawn that Stacey's still being a pain in the neck but she kind of feels bad for her, because she saw Scott kissing another girl. And Mary Anne's getting in touch with her wild side I guess, because she's thinking of buying another bikini from this store called If the Suit Fits, which is where Stacey got her's. Richard won't mind because he'll still be zonked out from the pot party to end all pot parties Sharon's throwing while the kids are gone.

After signing the postcard, Mary Anne throws in a PS and a PPS. The PS tells Dawn that *gasp* Stacey's been dying her hair! Bad girl! The PPS instructs Dawn to "Destroy this card in California!" Which looks incredibly funny, considering it's something so crazy to write and it's in Mary Anne's loopy script. And I don't think Dawn would take too kindly to destroying a card made out of paper, Mary Anne. That's spitting on the grave of the tree killed to make that postcard! She should have said "Recycle this card in California!" or "Burn this card, then scatter the ashes in the ocean in California!" At least that way, it won't rot away in a landfill somewhere.

Anyway, the morning after Stacey sees Scott kissing a girl who's more beautiful and has better boobs than she does, she's all mopey and sad and decides she can't show her face at the beach. After breakfast, she fakes a headache and tells Dee she doesn't want to go. Miraculously, the Pike parents are actually going with the Pike Army to the beach for like the third time since arriving in Sea City. I guess they remembered this is supposed to be a family vacation. At least this means Mary Anne won't be stuck watching the kids all by herself. Dee, completely oblivious to the drama happening between the girls, tells Stacey that's fine.

Mary Anne, on the other hand, is not too happy. While they're in their room later, she finally grows a spine (for the first time in this book) and confronts Stacey, instead of brooding about it or venting to Kristy or Dawn in a postcard. Mary Anne calls Stacey out and tells her she can see right through her bullshit:

“Thanks for sticking me with all the kids again. You know, last night you dragged me around to about a billion stores looking for a present for Scott. Then when you saw him with that girl, you practically blamed ME. You are so rude. The least you could do is apologize.”

Wow, Mary Anne! You get a gold star!

And some applause!

Stacey offers up a feeble apology, but Mary Anne isn't done yet, bitch! “If you actually had a headache, well, that would be one thing, but it's Scott isn't it?” Mary Anne shakes her head when Stacey admits that it is indeed Scott and now it's Stacey's turn to be mad. She apologized, dammit! Isn't that enough for Mary Anne? Geez! Stacey doesn't get why Mary Anne is still pissed off and reminds her that the boy mother's helper will probably be around, so she'll have help anyway.

But Stacey? He's got his own kids to watch, it isn't HIS job to help Mary Anne, he's just doing something nice because he sees she's got her hands full with eight kids. You're the one getting paid to do that and for the entire trip, you've blown off your responsibilities to go flirt with a lifeguard and feed him with the Pikes' food and sodas, leaving Mary Anne to cover for your ass. Mary Anne has every right to be mad at you.

Mary Anne informs Stacey his name is Alex, and Stacey responds by saying he looks like such a nerd. Did I mention Stacey is a BITCH in this book? She hasn't even met him! Mary Anne says he isn't a nerd, he's funny and nice, and as far as I'm concerned, he's a saint for constantly helping her out when Stacey abandons her. Before Mary Anne can start to chew her out again, Stacey asks, "Who are those kids, anyway?"

Mary Anne says their names are Kenny, Jimmy, and Ellie, and Alex is indeed a mother's helper and DON'T CHANGE THE SUBJECT STACEY! Stacey plays dumb about it and Mary Anne is about ready to do this now:

Once again, Mary Anne informs Stacey that she's made her do all the work so far and Stacey, being so high on herself, denies it. With that, Mary Anne storms downstairs and Stacey chases after her, still apologizing. You're still too little and too late, Stacey! Mary Anne awesomely ignores Stacey and tells the Pike kids to follow her, as their parents beat them to the beach. Yeah, I'm sure they got an early start to make some bacon on the beach and I don’t mean the kind Homer is thinking about:

youtube

So yeah, Stacey stays at home and as the kids are leaving, Byron decides he wants to stay at home too, saying he wants to rest. Maybe it's all the eating he apparently does that's making him so tired! Stacey has him go tell Mary Anne and when he returns, he asks if they can go for a walk. Stacey says yes, then remembering she's supposed to have a "headache," says they should go somewhere quiet. Nice save. She leaves a note for everyone else and follows Byron.

They end up on the bay side of Sea City, where the water is much calmer. And Byron goes right in the water. Turns out he was just afraid of the big waves. See, girls? He wasn't afraid of swimming, just the ocean. Byron probably noticed they were freaking out over him not swimming, so he took Stacey over here to shut her up. I'm sure he wouldn't want all the BSC members discussing him in minute detail at their next meeting.

Stacey encourages him to go out further in the water and tells him it's ok to be afraid of things a little. Because if you aren't afraid, you might take dangerous chances. But if you're TOO afraid, then you'll probably miss out on a lot of fun.

Byron and the calm water in the bay ends up calming Stacey down to the point where she decides she can go to the beach, she just has to avoid Scott. And I guess Byron is some kind of magical child because Stacey does a lot of thinking and realizes she was wrong the whole time about Scott and Mary Anne was right. He didn't LUV her, he just thought of her as a friend (*cracks up* Yeah, keep deluding yourself, McGill). And he really was too old for her. Stacey feels like an idiot for thinking her LUVed her, when they never kissed, or held hands, or went out on a date. But she decides she doesn't hate him, because he was nice to her and they "had fun.” Fetching him sodas and listening to him call you Princess is having fun? Um, ok. And he gave her his whistle!

She's still upset that Scott's probably already forgotten about her and wouldn't care if she avoided him because the next girl in line will just step up. I don't get it...is she happy she's had this epiphany or is she upset that he was a douchebag who led her on? Or both?

After lunch, Byron says he's ready to go to the beach, so Stacey brings him. And since the BSC loves comparing themselves and their issues to the ones their clients are having, Stacey says they're both scared but determined. As they arrive, the lifeguards switch shifts and Scott's part of the group that's leaving. Whew. Ok, and now Stacey says she doesn't know whether to be happy or upset.

Byron immediately goes into the (knee-deep) water with Adam and Jordan and I guess that's good enough for them. Stacey sees them and reflects on how much she's missed the kids too, since she had been spending all her time hanging around Scott. Spoken like a true BSC member. All her revelations are just coming one after the other here! Coming one after the other...I'm sure the Pikes are familiar with that, if you know what I mean.

#babysitters club #boy-crazy stacey #stacey mcgill #bsc #snark

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hecohansen31 · 5 years

Text

A Truly “Wicked” Plan:

Jim Mason+Reader

A/N: Hello there, lovelies!

It’s been an awful long time since I posted about my favorite ocean boy!

(Also for the fans of “Just Ride”, I am working on some angst about that fic, plus I low key want to write a very cute epilogue so you can all enjoy some sweetness...).

So here is a bit of a fake-dating AU, mixed with on of my favorite musicals, “Wicked”!

I honestly wanted it to be more on the musical at the start, but then this came out and although I know it isn’t perfect (I know that it might seem a bit rushed) I wanted to let out a bit of musical love.

Hope you’ll like it!

(Also before you go in, or meanwhile reading this I highly suggest to listen to this... or the entire “Wicked” soundtrack, you do you boo...)

(Feedback in any form, as long as it’s respectful, is very much welcome!)

Love you lovelies!

SUMMARY: Right when you get your perfect role in your favorite music, your long-time and annoying crush, Jim Mason, is casted to play your lover... which might turn out to be more interesting than what you might have thought...

WORDS: 4, 1 K.

WARNINGS: Just fluff, and musicals and mention of drug abuse!

She had always wished to play Elphaba in “Wicked”.

Not only because she had felt so similar to that character, but also she loved her parts and songs.

And whenever she had considered actually trying for anything musical-related she had found herself drifting to “For Good”, covering both Glinda and Elphaba’s parts, laughing at herself in her room.

So not only she had been fully overjoyed when her school had chosen “Wicked” as their annual musical, but the best part had been that she had been chosen to play Elphaba, since most of the girls had either tried for Dorothy or Glinda.

She had been just happy to wear that green paint and twirl around with a broom, no matter her shyness, no matter how uneasy she felt in big places.

But on the stage, with her dress and her broom, but most importantly… her voice, she could be anybody, even a cool person.

She had been deaf to any kind of insults or snicker thrown her away, too focused on her role, or at least this had been the route till they had casted Jim Mason as Fierro.

To say she had had a crush on Jim Mason since he had first come to Palos Verdes had been an underestimation of how much her little heart speeded up whenever he passed near her, and the way he laughed…

But she had seen the people he hanged out with, and she didn’t belong with them, so her chances to even catch his eyes were less than zero.

Well at least till they had to pretend to be lovers, sharing even a very emotional song, one of her favorites.

She had hoped that it wouldn’t be awkward in any kind of way.

But Jim had also made it very clear that he wasn’t there because he liked the musical, straight up messing up everything much to the amusement of his idiotic friends, not learning lines and not coming to their tryouts.

And she had tolerated it because she was a small fish in the chain of her high school, but she also had her own breaking point, which happened when she was trying the stage moves, just for Jimmy to bump into her with painting, making it all fall on her stage-dress.

It was an accident but she… lashed out on Jim.

“Why do you have to ruin anything?!” her words seemed to shpck him and he moved to apologize and to stop her from leaving, but she was full of embarrassment and pent-up anger “… don’t touch me! I honestly hate you! You shouldn’t be surprised that they casted you as a scarecrow without a brain!”.

As soon as she got in her car, the rage had been pushed away by shame, for the little show she had given everyone, clearly feeling she had overreacted, passing off as an hysteric woman, most of all because she had lashed out on poor Jim, right when all that had happened had been an accident.

So, she had decided to avoid try-outs for the rest of the day, going home and trying there Elphaba’s poses, meanwhile her mother tried to clean her dress.

The following day she had actually thought about avoiding going to school, not wanting to confront Jim and the others, but she had forced herself to, not wanting to miss anything due to her embarrassment.

She had to try things out, before confirming they weren’t working.

At school, nobody acted against her or did anything out of the ordinary, and she was actually surprised to see Jim standing by her usual seat, before English literature started, looking like he had had a pretty sleepless night, and she honestly thought about running away.

But he spotted her and smiled at her, trying to brighten the entire situation, even pushing himself up, from his cradled position.

She moved closer, to her desk, setting her backpack down on it, meanwhile he ruffled his hair, before adjusting them, finally facing her.

-I just wanted to say…- he started, but she swiftly stopped him, immediately wanting to apologize.

-…I am sorry for lashing out at you, yesterday, I am sorry… it’s the anxiety for the musical…- she wanted to move onto this thing fast so she could go back to being ignored, when Jim stopped her, grabbing gently her shoulders to make them straighten up and look him in the eyes.

-Hey hey, none of that, I was the one who fucked up…- his words made her melt, mostly because from the regret in his eyes he meant what he said-… I will pay for the dress, whether to get it cleaned or to get it sawn it again-.

-Jimmy it was an accident, don’t worry- she immediately caught upon on what she had said and he seems as surprised as her, before smiling brightly at her-… oh Gosh, I keep on being stupid… sorry-.

-You can call me Jimmy, all you want… you are the cutest- he patted her shoulder, before bringing her closer, getting her to screech, meanwhile he hugged her gently and immediately she felt wrapped in the pure warmth of happiness -… I am actually the one who should be sorry for having been a true “brainless scarecrow” to you, I swear I will take my role as prince Fierro seriously-.

Still wrapped in his arms, embarrassed almost as much as that time her top had come off, after she had jumped in her best friend’s swimming pool, she didn’t know how to react and mumbled up a few “mmmhhh”, “oh you are not” and “you have nothing to be sorry for”.

But Jim, kept on being stubborn and maintained his opinion, before releasing her and getting down on his knees, making her gasp louder.

(She was sure that a pretty crowd was watching them, but she avoided looking anywhere other than Jimmy’s eyes).

-I sweat on my knight’s honor I will avoid anything coming your way, paint or terrible acting, and take this role serious- he swore, as if he was seriously pledging his loyalty to her.

-Jim, please, get up, you are making a scene- she immediately covered her eyes, meanwhile Jim just laughed.

-C’mon, you know what you have to say- he prompted her, and she almost thought that he was trying to get back to her, through making fun of her.

But still she complied his order, although rolling her eyes, annoyed, at his childish, but cute, behavior.

-… oh, my courageous knight, I appreciate this, and I shall accept thy pledge- and he finally got up, before holding out his hand.

-Truce? – he asked her -I swear I will take this role seriously! -.

-Truce- she accepted his head, before looking at him seriously -…only if you come up an hour before for rehearsal, since you are pretty behind with your lines-.

Jimmy just smirked at her, before muttering something like “you are tougher than I expected”.

Well… he got a big storm coming.

Between her and Jim things started to get better, mostly because as soon as he started taking the entire thing seriously, he was pretty good as Fierro, and the chemistry between them was tangible.

Or at least it was what the musical director, Mrs Santana, had said when she and Jim had performed for the first time “As Long As You Are Mine”, without a single mistake.

Also, she had severely forbidden Jim to appear at rehearsal under the influence of anything and although it was sometimes hard, his hands getting tremors and sometimes is voice breaking, she had done her best to calm him down, strangely getting Jim to open up with her.

“Since he has left us…” he had once confessed to her, meanwhile they took a moment to breath outside, him smoking and her hiding in his jean jacket, since it had appeared to be colder than what she had foreseen, making her leave her jacket inside “… mom has gone crazy, and I just… feel like everything is pushed on my shoulder…”.

And she had hugged him, murmuring sweet nothings in his ear, calming him down, answering his worried calls in the middle of the night, no matter what, listening to what he had to say, before giving suggestions advice or just a nice word.

She had been there for him in order for him not to go back to his old habits.

Meanwhile she did his best to keep him from any toxic behavior her crush had developed into something different, more mature.

But she wasn’t sure about Jimmy’s feeling, mostly because he was going through so much at the moment and she didn’t want to push him into something, just because he felt in debt with her for her comfort.

So, she had tried to keep their friendship at bay, lighter than anything else.

She rejoiced whenever he called her “Elphi”, faking that she was offended for it, but her heart swelled every time he muttered it, or when she had seen him saving her number under that ridiculous nickname.

The day of the show, she was straight up panicking, but tried to keep it all in, smiling nervously at the other guys of the crew, meanwhile they waited for everyone to arrive; she had actually made a few friends with a few of her fellow stars.

The only person missing was Jimmy, and when he arrived, he seemed shocked, enough that she took him away to comfort him, before they went on the stafe.

“Is everything…?”

“My mom discovered about this entire thing and forbid me from coming here” he looked seriously close to having a panic attack “I had to fight with her… and I don’t want to go back home”.

“You can come and stay at my house” she proposed, knowing it wouldn’t bother her parents, mostly because after they had heard what had been going on with Jim, they had insisted to host the poor boy, on the worst nights.

“I need…” and he reached for his pocket, where he usually stored his drugs, something of his she had picked up over the course of events, but she stopped him, gripping his hands in hers, bringing them between them, and looking at him sternly in the eyes.

“No, you don’t need them”.

“… they will make me feel better” he mumbled, trying to lower his eyes, but she kept the eye-contact.

“For a few hours, then it will be worse, you know it!” she told him “…I know it is hard and I don’t expect you to believe me, but… Jimmy… there are better ways to get through this, and no matter what… it will get better, you have to believe me-.

Jim didn’t seem too convinced but he nodded, before bringing her in a bear hug and she softly sniffed his smoke-filled smell, caressing gently his back till she felt him relax under her.

-… also you don’t have to play Fierro, I can tell Mrs Santana…- she tried, but he shushed, his smile a bit brighter.

-Elphi, I had to wear a tights, so I am not going to let it all go to waste- and then he gave her a little push, to make her turn her around -… move your ass, we have a crowd to impress-.

-…only if you feel ok- she added, trying to look back at him, but he was avoiding her eyes, before pushing her, playfully, again.

-I am ok, but I seriously might take up on the offer of staying on your couch…- and then he wiggled his eyes -… or in your bed-.

And feeling daringly she turned around, sending him a malicious look:

-… let’s see how well you do on the stage, Fierro! -.

They had been amazing, but that hadn’t surprised her.

Not a single bit.

They had been ready to give their best.

And that’s what they had given to their audience.

They had performed perfectly the entire duet, heartbreakingly well, not even stepping on their toes once, which had happened frequently during their tryouts, and the entire exhibition had been extremely and truly magical.

She could feel it.

The audience had been extremely excited for the entire song, cheering loudly, and even more loudly when Jim had leaned down to kiss her on her lips, after their song had finished, something which hadn’t been programmed, but it all seemed so emotional and their chemistry had indeed been amazing and…

Still, they had never talked about it, not even mentioned it.

And Jim seemed the calmest about it, when moving off the stage.

But she wasn’t.

Was that a stage kiss? Was it a real kiss?

She had been confused but chose to relegate her anxiety about the situation on a little treasure chest in her brain, in order to go on with the show and then ask her questions when it all ended.

But it all went to hell as soon as she had another scene with Jim and she almost stuttered her lines, but managed to get through the end of it all, but Jim seemed to see through her uneasiness, getting her aside, knowing they had a few minutes of calm, before having to get back on stage.

-Hey, Elphi, is everything alright? – he asked, concerned, and she didn’t want to lie to him or even say the truth, since it might scare him, but…

-I am just a bit anxious- “about what that kiss might have meant”, but she decided to leave that part out, immediately getting him to push a few strands of hair out of her face, gently.

-You are doing amazing, Elphi! -she knew he was a flirty and touchy guy, with no knowledge of boundaries, but that behavior.

This was worse than math.

-Thank you- she just said, trying to get out of this awkward conversation, before he gently kissed her forehead this time and all her defenses were down.

-Jimmy.. why are you doing this? – maybe he was just looking for some kind of comfort, through touch, after he had been starved of it for so so much.

Or maybe he thought she might have wanted some kind of retribution for her comforting…

-For the same reason Fierro would follow Elphaba, betraying anything else- he seemed so so serious and close to kissing her -… that’s what is my next line, say by the way? -.

She swore he had somehow blushed, but other than that he was absolutely serious and it was indeed the next line so he wasn’t lying or…

She just smiled and nodded moving away, not seeing the way Jim looked at her almost as if he had lost his chance… and maybe he had.

At the end of recital, she was so pumped with adrenaline, that the strongest emotions provoked by the kiss with Jim seemed to pass a bit.

Mostly because after what he had said she had just brushed it aside as “a sudden acting choice, in the spur of the moment”.

The entire crowd had been shouting their names, asking them to perform a second time, applauding loudly and even screaming.

Her parents had talked about it for the entire ride, complimenting both her and Jim and her mother had almost made her laugh hysterically, in order to hide the truth, when she had said about “how in love” her and Jim looked, and even Jim had seemed taken aback from it, smiling and thanking quietly your mother.

Her parents hadn’t been able to stay for too much at home, because her sister had apparently had a little problem at the sleepover she was supposed to be at so she had called her parents to ask them to pick her up, leaving her and Jim, alone.

She hadn’t known if it had been the adrenaline or anything else, but she hadn’t minded much about it, unlike Jim who had sent her father a look as if to say “you seriously trust me with your daughter?”.

But her father had never had problems with boys, since she had been extremely calm and slow and he didn’t expect her to be the bold type, plus she was supposed to be alone with Jim just for maximum fifteen minutes, in which the boy moved to her room to change, meanwhile she scooped anything sweet in the kitchen for sugar after the musical.

She couldn’t help but giggle and jump around, extremely happy for what had happened in the musical, proud of herself, for having conquered everything that had stood in her way.

And sadly, this hazy happiness made her accidentally walk in on Jim, who hadn’t locked the room, and she stopped, moving closer to her room, waiting for Jim to give her the sign that she could come in.

But not only the door wasn’t locked, but Jim was on the phone, and the conversation was about her.

“Yeah, the musical went well, Medina!” he answered, a bit annoyed, probably something much more important stuck in his mouth “… but I think I fucked up with (Y/N)”.

And that’s when she straightened up her antennas, understanding that she was involved in whatever they were talking about.

And as much as she felt bad for snooping in Jim’s phone call, he said her name and she was extremely curious.

“… I kissed her” so he had kissed her, he had wanted to kiss her “… and then she asked me why and… I got scared and… I said a lie… and… and I think I scared her… shit shit shit!”.

She remained shocked on the threshold of her room, hidden behind the door, waiting for the phone call to end, meanwhile she pretended she hadn’t heard anything, but her cheeks were burning up and she was pretty sure they were flame-red, now, but her heart was beating so so loudly.

“… what do you mean with ‘everything is alright’?! I might have fucked up my relationship with my best friend, the one person who accepts me for me… I… am trying to calm down, Medina!” she honestly felt extremely bad, for being unable to comfort him “… yeah I think I won’t say anything if she doesn’t mention it, and hopefully she might forget it… shit I fucked up”.

She knocked on the door, feeling as the conversation should have ended there and, and immediately Jimmy came at the door, appearing in a lousy pajama, she had gotten him from her father’s wardrobe, smiling tightly at her.

-I brought refreshments- she tried to avoid talking about the true elephant in the room and to appear natural, not as if she had just heard her crush confess his true feelings about her -… so this can be a proper pajama party-.

He smirked, eyeing chocolate in her hands, immediately trying to steal it from her hands, hence they had a bit of fight over it, before they stumbled on the bed, her on top of him.

The position was awkward enough, after what had happened till that moment.

If she hadn’t pinched herself, she would have believe this was all fiction.

-Jimmy…- she whispered, staring him in his eyes, meanwhile he nodded at her call of his name, trying to make as much space as possible between them, so it would feel more comfortable for her and it wouldn’t look like they were five minutes from kissing each other -… I might have overheard you talking with Medina-.

And he looked like a deer caught in headlights, immediately scrunching away from her.

-… how much have you heard? -.

-Enough to know that the kiss wasn’t accidental – she mumbled, and he looked even more scared, avoiding her eyes, and getting up from the bed.

-Then… I shouldn’t…- but she grabbed his hand and stopped him from leaving.

-Can we talk this out? – she knew that they needed to talk, at least for their mutual respect.

-I am… I am sorry I kissed you, it wasn’t…-.

-I didn’t mind the kiss, Jimmy- it had been so sweet -…but I need to know if you meant it, because… the truth is that I have had the biggest crush on you since forever-.

And he seemed to rejoice at her words, turning back to take a look at her, shocked.

-… but I don’t know about your feelings; I don’t want you to feel forced into this relationship because you feel like you owe me something; no matter what shall come, I will be with you, to comfort you and support you, but… I don’t want your feelings for me to be confused with something else-.

She tried to be as clear as she could with him, looking him in the eyes and trying to appear sincere

And he looked back at her, truly did, smiling gently, before caressing her left cheek sweetly.

-I have had a crush on you, since I first got to know you at the musical, after the entire “painting incident” and I can’t deny that you being gentle and comforting with me, hasn’t had a role in my feelings for you, but I don’t feel like I owe you anything, I mean… I will be forever thankful for you and your words, but those things only made me realize what an amazing person you are-.

And he had been as sincere as her, in his words, looking at her reverently and this time it was her who leaned in, placing a small and chaste kiss on his lips, not even knowing how to kiss perfectly, not at least as him, but he was slow, he took his time with him.

-I don’t deserve you- he mumbled, on her lips, getting a straight up glare from her, which made her pull him into her, immediately getting on top of him.

-First thing you need to know Jim Mason, if you want to date me: people don’t deserve each other, people find each other, they respect and believe each other, and try to make things work out; no self-esteem bullshit, as long as we are together- and she made it clear, kissing all his face, a strange euphoria had taken over, as soon as the knowledge that her crush wasn’t one-sided clicked in her brain.

Meanwhile he gently smiled at her, caressing her hair, before dragging her by it in a new kiss, much less chaste than the previous, definitely lazy (something she always linked to Jimmy) caressing her lips with his, meanwhile his tongue licked her bottom lip and then he went to her upper one, meanwhile she tangled her hands in his hair.

And swiftly the situation was becoming more and more intense, with Jim’s hands wandering a bit, although he had been sweet enough to ask each time for permission, which she had gladly given.

He was halfway through her shirt, when they heard the door of her home open and her father chatting.

They had immediately straightened up their position, adjusting their clothes and putting some distance between them, collecting he food that she had brought and faking they were just eating and talking, calmly.

She really hoped they didn’t notice that her lips were a bit swollen and that she had red blushing cheeks, but her parents were too tired and just told them not to stay up too much, and her mother told Jim that if he wanted, his “bed” was ready.

They just nodded and waved their “good night”s to her parents, before Jim, comfortably laid down on her bed, a bowl of Nutella in his hand, searching for the spoons, sprayed on the bed, getting a side-look from her.

-Oh c’mon, you don’t want all this sweetness to go to waste?!- he mumbled, pointing to the Nutella.

-I just want you to know that this relationship isn’t starting well, if you, in bed with your girlfriend,,. All you think of doing is eating Nutella-.

He seemed somehow taken aback by her words and she thought she had gone too far.

-… does this mean that you are my “girlfriend”? – he mumbled, raising up and meeting her halfway for a sweet kiss.

-As long as you are mine- she mumbled, straight up on his lips, meanwhile he got away and giggled shyly.

-Only my nerdy girlfriend could say something like that after we just performed “Wicked” … - he mumbled, before kissing her again, pushing her under him.

-… but you like me even more because of that- and Jimmy didn’t answer, just kissed her again, and that was enough.

They were enough for each other.

---

Hope that you will like this!

(I am sorry if it was a bit too romance focused than musical, I just wantedb to write something sweet, musical themed, but let me know what you thought about it, it would help me a lot!).

Love you, lovelies!

@vampirefairyestelle @what-the-hecku @reyna6valdez @blakewaterxx @dvncans @kleineshaschen @alienwxre

#jim mason #jim mason x reader #jim mason hc #the tribes of palos verdes #tribes of palos verdes #tribes #tribes of PV #cody fern #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs #ahs fanfiction #ahs fic #topv #jim mason fem! reader #jim mason fem reader #jim mason fan fic #wicked #fluff

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dream-beyond-the-fantasy · 5 years

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Prompt #17 - “I Can’t Sleep, Can I Stay Here?

Requested by @curiousdamage for Jimmy & Julie

A/N: Another drabble that ended up being longer than intended. This is over 2000 words. Some parts probably could or should have been cut out, but this is completely unedited. It may end up as part of the larger work, Is This Love aka the Jimmy Fic. I may or may not post this to AO3. I did modify the quote/prompt to better suit the narrative.

It’s late. He should be in bed by now. But is he? No. Jimmy thinks that anxiety and adrenaline are keeping the exhaustion that he knows he should be feeling at bay. He has spent the last two days working mostly from home and nearly rearranging his apartment to move Julie in.

Even before that, Jimmy has been driving himself crazy. For the last three weeks, Jimmy felt like he has done everything and gone everywhere, even though he knows it isn’t accurate. Since finding out that he was going to be a father, he has been in planning mode. Jimmy decided that marriage and raising the baby with Julie would be best, as it would be easier to support them, especially if something were to happen to him. He has met with officials at the Los Angeles County Clerk’s Office to find out about what is needed to apply for a marriage license. He even checked what days each branch is available for civil marriages. Jimmy wants to get married sooner rather than later, definitely before the baby is born and preferably before she starts showing too much. This is mostly because he wants to avoid further embarrassment for both Julie and his parents, especially his very Catholic mother. He has called his insurance provider to add Julie to his policy. Jimmy even chatted up the women in his office to get some answers about how to find a good OB/GYN for Julie. He’s called a few up, trying to see who could meet with her as soon as possible. Julie’s prenatal care is a priority, even if she isn’t making it one. But he should cut her some slack. She was right in the middle of final exams until a few days ago. Jimmy has made a list of items that he knows the baby will need (car seat, crib, stroller, high chair) and compared price tags for what appear to be the top brands in the department stores.

And that doesn’t even cover his reading list. A self-imposed reading list. The last day of November had been pretty depressing for Jimmy. Thanksgiving dinner had turned into a disaster. Julie hadn’t spoken to him for two days. Nor would Johnny allow him to even try to talk to her. In order to cheer himself up, Jimmy decided to stop at the bookstore to pick up the latest Stephen King and Wheel of Time books that he hasn’t had the chance to buy. And yet, he felt himself drawn to the section where the pregnancy and parenting books were located. Jimmy ended up buying a whole stack, completely ignoring the disapproving look on the lady at the checkout counter’s face when she noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

For the last two hours, Jimmy has been perusing one of the many pregnancy books. There is a tentative knock at his bedroom door. His eyes worriedly flick from the page to the door. He lays What to Expect When You’re Expecting on his nightstand. Jimmy scrambles to the door, taking a moment to compose himself before opening it.

Jimmy is greeted with the sight of Julie in a simple white cotton nightgown that falls right above her knees, her hair cascading over her shoulders, with one hand up, poised to knock once more. She looks beautiful, he thinks. By the look in her eyes, he clearly startled her. She stares at him, entranced, her mouth agape, breath caught in her throat. Julie’s eyes drink him in, trailing down…

Oh, right. I’m only wearing boxers, Jimmy realizes, seeing his affect on her.

He clears his throat. “Julie, my eyes are up here,” he teases her, using two fingers to tilt her chin up. His blue eyes hold a mischievous glint with a playful grin to match. Knowing that she’s been caught, Julie flushes a deep pink. She turns away from him.

No. Please, don’t look away. Jimmy’s smile fades. As she starts to back away, he steps out into the hall and reaches for her arm.

“Julie, wait! Don’t go. It was a bad joke, I know. I’m sorry.”

She stops, peering at him through a curtain of dark hair. Jimmy pulls her closer, brushing her hair from her face.

“Julie, look at me, please. What is it? What’s wrong?”

Finally meeting his eyes, she appears mildly confused. “What?”

Jimmy leans forward, placing his hands on her shoulders. He tries to ignore the knot that is forming in his stomach. He wants to appear calm and not upset or increase any fears that Julie may already have.

“It’s late. You wouldn’t be knocking on my door if something wasn’t wrong. Are you okay? A-are you feeling nauseous? I-is there any pain or cramping? Julie, if you thought you were having a miscarriage, you’d tell me, right?”

Her jaw drops. She splutters a bit, trying to form a coherent thought or word. Julie takes a moment to collect herself. When she has recovered from her shock, Julie reaches up to caress Jimmy’s cheek. Unshed tears are threatening to fall.

“You thought that I was losing the baby? Oh, Jimmy. I’m sorry that I made you think that, even for a second. And of course, I would tell you!”

She takes his hand and places it on her bump. “As far as I know, the baby and I are fine. We’re okay. Don’t worry.”

Jimmy looks from her to where his hand is situated over their unborn child. He starts to smile again. “Don’t worry? Yeah, I think our days of worrying are just beginning. And I don’t think we’ll stop after eighteen years.”

They share a little laugh. Then he directs his attention back to Julie. “So, why did you knock on my door? You still haven’t told me.”

She clams up and avoids his eyes again. Jimmy cocks an eyebrow.

“Julie.”

She cringes hearing the warning tone in his voice. Julie shakes her head and starts to back away. “I-it-it’s nothing,” she stammers. “I, I’ll go back to my room.” As she turns on her heel, Jimmy clasps her hands, pulling her back to him.

“Julie, please talk to me.”

She sighs in resignation. Looking down, Julie replies, “It’s nothing. You’ll think it’s silly, especially after what you were thinking.”

He runs his hands up and down her arms in a soothing manner. “Just tell me,” Jimmy pleads. “I promise I won’t laugh. I won’t get upset. Just talk to me, babe.”

She rolls her eyes, finally meeting his gaze.

“I can’t sleep. Can I stay here, with you?”

Stunned, Jimmy blinks. He can barely say one word: “What?”

“I can’t sleep. It’s not for lack of trying, as I have for hours. But I can’t sleep. I don’t know how or why, but I just can’t. I am tired and I know it. I had no problem yesterday. Of course, that could have been from the stress of finishing my exams, packing, moving out of the dorms, and moving in here. Whatever the reason, I can’t sleep and it’s driving me crazy!”

By this point, the poor girl is in tears. Jimmy, taking pity on her, embraces Julie tightly, kissing the top of her head.

“I came to ask if I could sleep with you,” she continues. “The best sleep that I’ve ever had has been when I’m in your arms. I just really need you right now!”

At her words, Jimmy’s brows shoot up. He flashes her a suggestive smile. “Really? All you had to do was ask.”

It is only then that Julie realizes what she said. She flushes pink again, covering her face in embarrassment.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” she cries.

Jimmy laughs again as he pries her hands away. “Julie, it’s okay. And yes, you can stay.”

He kisses Julie’s forehead before bringing her in for another hug. She still looks miserable and embarrassed beyond belief, but it doesn’t stop her from leaning into the embrace and resting her head on his collarbone.

“When I say ‘sleep’, I actually mean sleep,” she mutters. Julie turns to him. “I’m serious about us not having sex again until after the wedding,” she says emphatically.

“C’mon.” Jimmy leads her to his room.

Walking into the bedroom, he spots What to Expect When You’re Expecting on his nightstand, causing him to freeze. Knowing that she will see it the second she enters, Jimmy steps in front of her. He honestly doesn’t know how Julie will react to him reading pregnancy books. They haven’t talked too much about the pregnancy itself or how they intend to parent their child. While he knows they need to discuss these things in depth, Jimmy knows that two sleep-deprived people should probably not have that kind of discussion in the middle of the night.

“This is the first time you’ve been in here, right?”

Julie nods.

“Then you should check out my bookshelf. I remember how much you love to read. I know that you’ve perused most of my books in the living room. But I keep my favorite books in here.” As he talks, he ushers her to one side of the room.

While Julie is thumbing through his collection of books, Jimmy rushes over to his nightstand. He tosses the book into the drawer. Looking up to see that Julie is still occupied, he moves over to his dresser where the rest of the stack of pregnancy and parenting books sit. He grabs an armful of them, hoping that she wouldn’t turn around. Jimmy picks them up and throws them onto the floor of his closet. As soon as he slides the door closed, he sees Julie behind him in the mirror. He whirls around.

“Shit!”

Jimmy falls back against the glass, his hand over his heart. Julie stares back at him, one eyebrow raised and her arms crossed. She can’t keep the mix of suspicion and amusement off her face.

“A bit jumpy, aren’t you? Shouldn’t I be the nervous one?”

Recovering from the surprise, Jimmy tries to walk her backward, in the direction of the bed. Julie tries to look over his shoulder, hoping that he didn’t get the closet completely closed. Indicating the closet with a nod of her head, she asks, “Whatcha hiding?”

“Nothing.”

Jimmy receives a skeptical look in reply. He sighs, “I didn’t notice that my room was a bit of a mess. So, I was putting a few things away before you saw them,” he lies, a bit more convincingly this time.

Julie looks around the room. “You’re kidding, right? What mess? This has to be one of the cleanest bedrooms I’ve ever seen. Especially for a guy’s room.”

Jimmy puts his hands on his hips. “Oh, been in many boys’ rooms, have we?”

She shoots him a mock glare and gives him a light slap on the arm. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You know I used to sleep in Johnny’s room sometimes when I was a kid. Whether as a teenager or an adult, none of his rooms have looked this good. And I was in Bobby’s room once. It was very neat, but it didn’t look this nice.”

“What were you doing in Bobby’s room? And did he know about it?”

Julie plays with a lock of her hair. “Uh, I don’t remember. I just know Becca wanted me to play lookout while we snuck into his room.” She tilts her head to the side. “No, I don’t he ever found out,” she yawns.

Jimmy smiles at her. “Okay, I think it’s time you went to bed.” He pulls back the covers, lifting them for her to get in. Julie can smell that he washed the sheets recently. As she is getting comfortable and snuggling in, she notices that Jimmy isn’t getting into bed. In fact, he is headed toward the door.

“Hey, where are you going? Aren’t you going to stay with me?” she asks, pouting.

Jimmy stops, turning to face her. He points up to the ceiling. “I thought it might be easier for you to sleep with the lights off.”

“Oh!” Embarrassed, Julie lies back and pulls the blanket up to cover her face. Though muffled, she can hear his chuckling. The next thing Julie knows, he is climbing into bed beside her. He pulls the blanket from her face, leaning over her. She practically melts at the look of adoration that Jimmy gives her.

“C’mere,” he says, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer to him. Jimmy kisses her.

Within fifteen minutes, both are asleep. Julie’s head has migrated from the pillow to his chest. Jimmy has one arm holding her to him, while the other rests on the slight swell of her abdomen.

#curiousdamage #jimmy fic #jimmy x julie #jimmy karate kid #julie lawrence #prompt 17 #fluff/angst prompt #is this love #i can't sleep #can i stay here #karate kid fanfic #karate kid drabble #excerpt from my fic

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lastbluetardis · 6 years

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Chemical Potential (7/11)

Summary: Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

Ten x Rose University AU

This chapter: ~4200 words, teen (bc Rose is horny)

Notes: This was written for the lovely @thegreenfairy13 as part of the @dwsecretsanta gift exchange.

AO3 | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | epilogue

Rose’s heart thundered as she shut herself into the guest bedroom. Her cheeks were hot and her stomach was in knots. She’d made an utter fool of herself. How on Earth was she supposed to face James again?

She’d thought he had been going in for a kiss, but what if she was mistaken? What if he’d been shifting around and she’d misinterpreted, and in fleeing, she roused James’s suspicions? And what if he had been going in for a kiss? Had he actually meant it, or had the wine lowered his inhibitions?

If he’d only been going in for a kiss because he was drunk, she was glad she’d stopped it. It would break her heart more than it already was if he kissed her then regretted it when he was sober.

But if he had meant to kiss her and wanted to kiss her, she’d rejected him and thus probably dashed any hopes of kissing him in the future.

“Goddammit,” she growled under her breath.

Perhaps it’s for the best, though, she thought to herself, hoping to soothe the hurt, frustration, and mortification coursing through her. Because what if he had meant to kiss her and, for some reason, wanted to embark on some sort of relationship with her. What if they tried it, and it just… didn’t work? What if he broke her heart? Or worse… what if she broke his?

“Goddammit,” she hissed again, rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes until bright colors bloomed behind her lids.

She stood pressed to the door for quite some time, listening to the quiet shuffling of James as he moved about the house. After a while, she heard him walk down the hall, then the quiet snick of his bedroom door opening and closing again. She stayed still for another five minutes, just to be safe, before she grabbed her overnight bad and slipped across the hall into the loo to get ready for bed.

Rose slept better than she expected, what with her racing thoughts, and not to mention it being a strange bed in a strange house. James’s scent lingered in the room, mostly coming from the vicinity of the bay window, and it calmed her and soothed her and provided her with pleasant dreams.

She dreamt that she hadn’t fled, and that James wanted her as much as she wanted him, that he loved her as she loved him. She dreamt that he’d held her with more gentleness and tenderness than anyone ever had before as she sat in his lap and kissed him. She could so vividly feel the press of his lips against hers, the clutch of his hands at her back, the texture of his hair in her fingers. She could hear his soft, needy sighs and grunts as he pulled her closer, closer, closer…

When she awoke, her body was flushed with desire and frustration. Then when she remembered what, exactly, had transpired the night before, her heart broke all over again.

Even though it was much earlier than her typical wake-up time, she crept across the hall for a shower and to get ready for the day. Half an hour later, Rose snuck back into the bedroom and packed up everything into her bag again, then made the bed.

She heard clanging coming from the kitchen, and when she walked down the hall, her breath caught at the sight. James, still in his pajamas, was moving around the room, tending to various pans as delicious smells wafted ‘round the room.

She took a selfish moment to observe him and appreciate his figure. His shirt looked incredibly soft and it clung to his chest, giving her a decent enough view of the flexing muscles in his shoulders and back as he worked. It draped down to his hips, where his pajama bottoms rode low enough to tease her with small slivers of skin whenever he raised his arms above his head. His bum was perfectly toned and round, and she bit her lip hard at the memory of her dream-self grabbing it to hold him against her.

A shiver of desire rippled down her spine, leaving her aching inside. She was in a three-year dry spell, with nothing but her own hands and a vibrator to satisfy her physical needs. It was almost unfair how fit he was. She craved the feeling of his hands on her body, and her hands on his. She wanted to touch every inch of his tall, lithe figure. To have his skin pressing against hers. To hold him completely within her and be held by him in return.

“Morning!”

Her cheeks burned with half embarrassment, half arousal. Her core was throbbing with need, and she was annoyed with herself for letting her imagination get the best of her. She prayed he didn’t notice the way she’d been ogling him. Or the lecherous thoughts she’d been entertaining.

“Morning,” she replied, clearing her throat against the husky rasp of her voice.

She stepped into the kitchen cautiously, but there was no sign of awkwardness or discomfort from the night before.

James turned back around to tend to the griddle of pancakes he was making, then to the frying pan of sizzling, popping bacon.

“Can I help with something?” she asked.

“Can you mind the bacon?” he asked. “And take them off whenever they’re to your liking. Do you prefer crispy or squishy bacon?”

Rose made a face. “Definitely crispy. I don’t want my bacon to still be oinking at me whilst I eat it, ta.”

James chuckled, then expertly flipped the array of six pancakes on the griddle.

As Rose cooked the bacon, flipping it around the pan as needed, she watched James out of the corner of her eye. Nothing seemed amiss. Were they just going to pretend that last night hadn’t been the most awkward situation in the world? Well. The last five minutes of it, at least. The rest of the night had been magical, and Rose wanted more than anything for those memories to overshadow any awkwardness that had eventually arisen.

Rose was nearly overwhelmed by the domesticity and casualness of their movements. They worked around each other as though they’d been preparing breakfast together for years. A lump lodged itself in her throat as a deep, crushing yearning overtook her. Jimmy had never helped her make breakfast. Or any meal, for that matter. And if she were being honest, she’d never had a desire to cook anything special for him. But for James… For James, she wanted to spend the rest of her life making breakfast, lunch, and dinner with him.

Firmly ignoring those thoughts, she said, “This all looks delicious.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I love making breakfast. I love breakfast. Most important meal of the day, innit?”

Rose smiled at him, and paused before saying, “I never put much effort into it.”

He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Not even… with Jimmy?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“I loved helping my dad make breakfast,” he said softly, gazing intently at the pancakes as he arranged them in a neat stack on a serving plate. “I’ve always been an early riser. My dad eventually became one too when my parents realized I was never going to let them sleep in. My mum was awful with mornings, so it was often just me and Dad. Some mornings, we’d work together and make these big special breakfasts, then go surprise my mum with breakfast in bed.”

Rose’s chest cracked at the sadness in his voice. She reached over and rested her hand at his forearm, but he casually slid his arm away from her. She tried not to let her hurt show, and instead she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” He sighed. “I miss the small things the most, y’know?”

“Yeah. Whenever I think back on Jimmy… obviously he broke my heart, but I fell in love with him for a reason. And there are days when I miss the way things used to be. The small things. But we can’t turn back time, and I think all we can do is try to remember the good things from the past but move on to the good things to come.”

James’s eyes were shiny, and he turned away from her. But she saw his cheeks pulling up in a smile before he said, “That’s very deep and philosophical for seven-thirty in the morning.”

Rose rolled her eyes and poked her finger into his ribs. He squirmed and laughed, and she couldn’t help but laugh with him.

As they finished cooking breakfast, James started heating a kettle then filled his coffee maker with water and grounds. The kitchen was soon filled with the scent of brewing coffee, and Rose appreciated the smell. It seemed to add to the homeyness of the morning.

James pointed her in the direction of the teabags while he prepared his own mug of coffee.

“Not adding ten scoops of sugar?” Rose teased when she saw him add creamer and nothing else to his coffee.

“Nah. It’s flavored cream—hazelnut. I love hazelnut cream—and it’s quite sweet on its own. Have a taste.”

Rose ran her finger across the lip of the bottle, where a drop was slowly running down the side, and sucked the white liquid off her fingertip.

The taste was sickly sweet. “Blech!”

James burst out laughing, and took the bottle from her.

“See?” he said with a grin. “Plenty sweet enough for me.”

“To each their own,” she muttered, smacking her tongue against the roof of her mouth to dispel the taste.

He stuck his tongue out at her, then went to a cabinet for two plates.

Moments later, they were seated on opposite sides of the kitchen table, leisurely enjoying their breakfast. They didn’t talk much, but the quiet was comfortable. Rose had to concentrate on keeping her feet firmly planted on the floor by her chair rather than sprawled closer to his like she wanted. It was as though her body was drawn to him like magnets. She wanted to constantly be close to him, or touching him.

This is ridiculous, she scolded herself. Utterly ridiculous. Keep it in your pants, Rose.

Thankfully, James seemed utterly oblivious to her and her lustful thoughts.

“Where are Pippin and Merry?” Rose blurted out, trying to give herself something to focus on that wasn’t James.

“I shut them in my room,” he answered. “I put their food bowls in there. They have awful table manners, as I said last night.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” she said.

“Not until Pippin ate your entire plate of pancakes,” James said, rolling his eyes. “And got himself sticky with syrup. Nope. Anytime I’m eating something messy, I shut him away so I don’t have to give him a bath. One time I left pancakes unattended to save Merry from Gollum, and I came back to see Pippin covered in syrup, with half my stack of pancakes on the floor. The idiot decided he wanted the middle one. He scratched the hell out of my arms when I went to bathe him.”

Rose laughed at the picture, even as James pouted.

“Have you no sympathy, Rose Tyler?” he squawked.

“Hmm, not really,” she said, sticking her tongue out as she smiled.

He blew a raspberry at her, then took a swig from his steaming mug of coffee.

As though the cat realized he was being talked about, a rather pathetic meow came from down the hallway.

“Poor thing,” Rose cooed. Since they were both done eating, she asked, “Can I let them out?”

James nodded, and she moved down the hall to the crying cat. He was just starting to scratch at the door when she opened it.

Pippin screamed happily at her and ran into her legs, rubbing himself against her. Merry was lounging on James’s unmade bed, but he gave a soft chirp of acknowledgement.

Rose selfishly took a moment to observe the bedroom. It was very… James. It was sparsely decorated, but filled with furniture. Two walls were completely lined with bookcases, with a desk and dresser shoved along another wall. His queen-sized bed had only two pillows on it, and his nightstand had a pile of four books, a lamp, and a box of tissues.

It smelled so much like him that her stomach panged.

She forced herself out of the room, and kept the door open behind her. Pippin was still circling her feet, but trotted along beside her as she made her way down the hall. His footfalls created little tapping sounds, and his meows wavered in time with the beats.

James was still sitting at the table when she returned, but the plates had been removed.

Pippin leaped onto the table and headbutted James. Rose’s heart melted when James nudged his nose into the cat’s forehead, then pressed a kiss to it.

“Hiya, bud,” he murmured. “Want a pancake?”

Rose then saw that James had ripped up small pieces of a pancake and placed them on a napkin.

Pippin noticed them after a moment, and went directly towards them, scarfing them down as though he hadn’t been fed that morning.

A half hour later, after James showered and Rose made sure she packed everything she’d brought, James drove to Rose’s flat so she could grab her school bag, then he took them into the university.

“I wonder if Professor Young will have graded our exams yet,” James mused as they walked towards the science building.

Rose stumbled a step. “Oh, God. I’d completely forgotten we took an exam.”

Her brain whirred frantically as she was choked with anxiety at the prospect of getting a grade back. She remembered the panic of taking that exam—had it only been two days ago? It felt like a lifetime had passed since then—and of not having enough time to finish it.

Rose’s worries were temporarily soothed when the professor started the class by saying the exams hadn’t been graded yet, but they would get them back on Friday. At least she could ignore her fears for another two days.

Rose took full advantage of her blissful ignorance, and used the post-exam lull to relax and not think about school. All of her classes seemed to have lightened up, and it was a relief to not be completely swamped with work and studying.

But inevitably, Friday arrived.

“With the few remaining minutes of class,” the professor said at the end of the lecture period, “I’ll hand back your exams. Come up and tell me your last name.”

Rose’s stomach coiled with dread. She put away her notes and shrugged on her jacket before she and James joined the mass of students surrounding their professor.

It took a few minutes before they reached the front of the queue, but finally they each approached the professor, gave their last name, and were handed the exam. Rose mangled it into a rolled-up rod as she ducked away from the crowd of people, James close on her heels as they exited the lecture hall.

“Well?” he asked expectantly, jutting his chin towards her exam.

“I dunno. Haven’t looked,” she admitted.

He furrowed his brows.

“I don’t think it went well,” she sighed.

“Well, you won’t know unless you look,” he reasoned.

She gritted her teeth. He couldn’t possibly understand what she was feeling. He’d never had to endure the nauseating terror of having his failure and stupidity scribbled in red ink across a page. She doubted he’d ever failed anything in his life.

Though she knew he didn’t mean to, that he was only trying to help, she couldn’t help but feel condescended to.

She breathed in deeply as she unraveled her exam, then the air left her lungs in a sharp whoosh as she beheld the circled 59%.

Her ears were ringing and tears burned behind her eyes. All that time—all that effort—and she’d still failed.

“That’s a great improvement over your first—”

“Shut up,” she hissed, squeezing her eyes tightly shut even as tears began to leak from behind her lids. “Just… shut up.”

She was numb and tingling all over, her body too hot and too cold at the same time, and she wondered if she was going to vomit. Or pass out.

A warm, familiar hand rested on her lower back, then James’s voice was in her ear. “Follow me.”

Rose sniffed hard and opened her eyes to see other students in their class looking at her sympathetically. The sight made more tears well up in her eyes, so she dropped her head to watch the tiles of the floor go by as James guided her down the corridor.

Her chest ached with disappointment and sorrow as she followed James to the single-person loo. He locked the door behind them, then she was instantly in his arms. When her front pressed to his and his hand went up to cradle the back of her head, she lost all semblance of control.

Loud, wheezing sobs ripped up her throat until she was full-on ugly-crying into his coat. He held her tightly, not saying anything. Instead, he stroked long, soothing lines up and down her back.

When the worst had passed, Rose pulled away from him and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” she whimpered.

“No, you’re not,” he said gently.

“Fifty-nine percent,” she said scathingly, dropping her hands from her face to glare at him.

“Chemistry isn’t your strong suit,” he said with a shrug. “But that doesn’t mean you’re stupid, Rose.”

“Whatever,” she mumbled, moving to the sink to wash her mascara off her hands and cheeks. She really needed to avoid makeup on days when she was due to get a chemistry grade back.

“Why do you talk down about yourself?” Rose looked at James through the mirror. He was leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest—the picture of relaxed. But there was a tightness to his face and body that belied his nonchalance. “Why call yourself stupid?”

“Because I am,” she snapped.

Anger flashed across his face.

“You’re doing it again. Why are you tying your worth and perceived intelligence to one single subject?”

Rose didn’t bother to reply, and instead she grabbed a handful of scratchy paper towels to scrub her face clean.

“It’s not healthy to expect perfection of yourself,” James continued. “Everyone has strengths and weaknesses, things that they’re good and bad at. You can’t be perfect at everything.”

“You are,” she muttered under her breath.

He heard it, though. “Have you seen me attempt to draw? Blimey, I think a five-year-old has better skill than me.”

In spite of herself, Rose snorted.

“Was that a smile?”

She pursed her lips.

“No.”

“That was a smile,” he said in a sing-song voice. “You smiled.”

“No, I didn’t.” But she felt the way her lips were curled up at the ends. It slipped, though, when she remembered what they were originally discussing. “Doesn’t matter if you’re not good at drawing. You’re amazing at so many other things.”

“So are you,” he countered.

“Not the important stuff.”

He frowned. “Who says drawing’s not important?”

She shrugged, but James’s face was expectant.

Rose heaved a huge sigh and admitted, “I told Jimmy I wanted to go back to school for art. He laughed. Told me if I was to go back to school, I should go for something real. Something useful.” Her heart broke all over again as she remembered his scoffed, condescending words. “Mum said something similar, too, when I told her my major.”

Rose as staring resolutely at the sink, but from her peripheral view of the mirror, she saw James approach.

“Jimmy is an absolute wanker,” he said, his voice sounding strangled. “And so’s your mum. Er… no offense. Well. Sort of offense. I mean… the most respectful offense…”

Rose giggled through her renewed tears, and she said, “My mum… has a very grim view of the world. She and I don’t see eye to eye on many things. S’one of the reasons I came to America.”

“Don’t listen to them.” His hand landed on her shoulder, tugging. After a moment, she spun around, but kept her gaze down at his feet. There was a piece of dead leaf clinging to one of his shoelaces; she wanted to reach down and pick it off. But his hand went under her jaw, and gently tilted her head back. His face was pinched with a fierceness she didn’t quite understand. “Don’t you listen to them, Rose. Okay? You are incredible. You are so smart in ways that I can’t begin to comprehend. So what if you’re rubbish at maths and chemistry. You create beauty in this world, and that’s a very important thing. Without people like you, this world would be a very ugly, boring old place to be. Do not compare yourself to anybody else, because everybody is different. Just be the very best version of yourself that you can be, because I lo- I rather enjoy the Rose Tyler I’ve befriended.”

Rose couldn’t help the small, tentative smile that spread across her face.

She moved away from him then to splash cold water on her heated cheeks. Her hands went numb after the third rinse, but at least her face wasn’t uncomfortably hot anymore, and the cold water soothed her aching eyes.

When she’d dried her face, she turned and saw James had his iPad out.

“Everything isn’t as hopeless as you think it is,” he said, stepping up beside her. He had an Excel spreadsheet open, and Rose realized it was the grade calculator he’d made for her.

“You’ve kept it updated?” she said, surprised.

His cheeks went a little pink. He stared at the iPad screen and said, “Well, you know me. Maths geek. Can’t help it. Anyway, look. You’re doing amazingly on your homework and labs. Much better than my suggested ninety-percent. So really, you only need to do a tiny bit better on exam three and the final exam to get a passing grade.”

Rose sighed. How much harder would she have to work in order to do better on the next exam and the final?

But despite that, she was comforted by the numbers James was showing to her. If she could scrape together a sixty-seven percent on the next exam as well as on the final, she would just manage a C in the class. Assuming she continued to get near-perfect scores on her homework and labs, and didn’t utterly fail the next quiz in the class.

Slowly a glimmer of hope rose up inside of her, eating away the depression and self-loathing that had overtaken her minutes ago.

“Thanks, James,” she whispered, near-tears again. But not tears of sorrow and frustration, but of relief and thankfulness.

He smiled at her, then snapped the cover over his iPad shut and stuffed it into his bag.

“Feel better?”

“Yeah.” She gnawed at her lip, then reached out to touch his upper arm. “Thank you. You’re an amazing friend.”

His smile looked a little stiff, showing too much teeth even though it didn’t crinkle his eyes. But he then turned and plucked up her backpack from the floor and handed it to her.

She slung it over her shoulder, then opened the door to the loo.

“What in God’s name were you two doing in there?!”

Rose jumped as she and James exited the loo only to see one of the chemistry professors walking down the corridor.

“Oh! It’s… erm… well… It’s not what it looks like!” James stammered, his cheeks going scarlet. “Really! Promise! We weren’t doing anything!”

The professor looked dubiously at the two of them, then his gaze landed on Rose. He must have seen her red-rimmed eyes and splotchy cheeks, because his expression hardened and became frosty.

“Are you all right, miss?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Rose croaked. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Yeah. Wasn’t feeling well is all. James helped me to the loo.”

The professor still wasn’t convinced, and he continued glaring at James, who squirmed in discomfort.

“Do you need me to call someone, miss?” he asked gently.

Rose shook her head. “Seriously. I’m fine. Chemistry grade came back as shit is all.”

A flash of understanding crossed the man’s face. Before he could say anything else, James took her hand and slowly began backing down the hall.

“Thanks for your concern,” James said, then he turned and rested his hand on Rose’s lower back as he ushered her outside.

When the doors clicked shut behind them, Rose burst into peals of laughter that bent her over and had her clutching her sides.

“Oh, my God,” she wheezed.

“Oh, my God,” James muttered, his face still bright pink. “I can’t believe that just happened. He’s probably going to tell the entire faculty I’m a licentious pervert and to watch out for me taking unsuspecting girls into the loo.”

Tears of laughter streamed down Rose’s face, even as she felt a small pang of pity for James.

“Oh well,” he sighed. Rose felt his eyes on her as she attempted to compose herself. “You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?”

“Never,” she promised, grinning.

He smiled softly at her, then said, “Wanna grab a coffee? Er. Or tea?”

Rose nodded, wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and followed him to the dining hall.

#thegreenfairy13 #dwsecretsanta #ficandchips #doctorroseprompts #dwfic #doctor who #ten x rose #au #ten x rose au #university au #my fic #chemical potential

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isolataed · 6 years

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A Sprinkle of Champagne// Wong Yukhei

Pairings: yukhei x reader / jaehyun x reader

Words: 9.7k

Genre: an unbearable amount of fluff, angst, richkid! au, barista! au, waiter! au, arranged marriage! au (too many au’s to count I’m srry idk when to stop sue me)

Warning!!: contains mature themes, underaged alcohol usage, explicit language (not for the light of heart, also if you listen closely you can almost hear me screaming in frustration with how long I’ve postponed this bc procrastination. btw it sorta gets cliché towards the end bc I’m just a whore for clichés srry not srry.)

Money flows to you in avalanches of abundance. Its been a coping mechanism throughout all your 18 years on this god forsaken planet. Whenever the slightest inconvenience occurs you find yourself reaching for your credit card faster than one can blink and you hurry to your favorite designer boutique to help quell your thirst for comfort. Many would pine for their friends’ presence in a time of need especially when you’re on the verge of having a mental breakdown, however, you were no ordinary person and had to cope in a various amount of ways which just so happened to include retail therapy. Sure, you could announce that you’re having a party on your million-dollar yacht and your so called ‘friends’ would come scurrying to you no matter their current destination. People had a knack for your money and wouldn’t second guess using you for it. You knew it. And so did they. But to be completely honest, it didn’t bother you that much since you had more pressing matters on your hands. Even though you would hate to admit it but, no matter how much money you had, there was still an emptiness that could never be filled. No new Jimmy Choo pumps, no Gucci belt, not even diamond earrings could help fill the emptiness that has chosen to take hostage deep within you. Again, as much as you’d hate to admit it, money can’t buy happiness, However, it most certainly can buy you a new Gucci wardrobe. And that’s what you were currently occupied with, browsing each clothing rack until your searching eyes settled upon a shimmering thigh high length dress with a plunging neckline and a just equally exposing back.

Hmm I’d say that’s skimpy enough for tonight’s event.

Your thoughts had a subconscious grin stretching onto your face since, well, you are your favorite comedian after all. Most would be appalled by your rather provocative fashion sense but you live by the motto if you got it, flaunt it. And throughout your stress-shopping you hadn’t noticed that you’d received a message from your fiancé, jaehyun. In the mess of things, your parents had decided it was due for you to continue the family inheritance, or company with an all too trusting fiancé accompanied by your side. His family goes way back with your parents and the closeness between each other is rather convenient for them. Despite there being a miniscule part of you wanting to pick your own partner and having it be decided in fates hands. You always were a dreamer when it came to fate. Nonetheless you were content with your current partner. After all, you two had grown close ever since high school with the both of you being labeled the ‘it’ couple. To be blunt, everyone knew you two and were happy enough to be rooting for the both of you. You enjoyed it. To be showered with fame and popularity since you were the girlfriend of a boyfriend’s family with a multi-million-dollar company. Your family wasn’t too shabby either with having collected millions throughout the years with their equally successful company. Once your family came to learn that you were dating, they were quick to force the whole arranged marriage propaganda upon the two of you. You were obliged to the engagement almost as if your parents set a lock on it, having the impending pressure hovering over both you and Jaehyun. Everything was rushed to say the least and went against your wishes of wanting to take your time and fully immerse yourself into the fulfilling relationship but nonetheless you were content with getting a head-start to your life. Many were jealous of your lifestyle and were quick to write you off as a spoiled brat which you could agree on some level. But then again you were the one living your life the fullest. That is until your eyes skimmed over the message from your fiancé that left a sorrow expression imprinted on your features.

We need to talk. Meet me at your driveway I’ll be there in 10.

8:48pm.

This ultimately surprised you since you were technically supposed to be getting ready for your engagement party tonight and not sending each other these questionable text messages. As the phone screen illuminated your troubled features you found yourself at loss for words. Your freshly painted fingernails were hovering over the keyboard unable to formulate any structured sentences since you were too busy overthinking everything. A sigh left your parted lips as you reminded yourself that you can’t be stressing over the smallest things since you did after all have a reputation to keep up. You began typing with your newfound confidence.

Alright but idk what you could possibly want to talk about since our engagement party is just in a couple hours??

8:50pm.

Hesitantly, you pressed send and locked your phone back up in your Louis Vuitton bag before you had the slightest inkling of regret based on what you just sent and went straight back to your mindless shopping.

Soon enough another chime erupted from your phone. It read.

I know, but please come it’s urgent.

8:51pm.

Jaehyun has never been this insistent with you over text and you found yourself beginning to worry as seconds turned into long fretful minutes and soon enough your brain was a jumbled mess. What could be on his mind for him to be reacting in such way?

You thought no longer and before you could register what was happening you were already out the door with your newly purchased clothing items.

The drive back to your estate was stressful but you tried to keep our nerves at bay before they had the chance to swallow you whole. The party was starting in just a couple hours that were surly to fly by with the amount of time needed for you to get ready and change into the suitable persona amongst your whole family and friends. Although you weren’t sure whether to call them friends or not. Acquaintances that are just in it for your money seems like a better description. As you around the corner to your gates that swing open once the security see you in view, you can’t help the incriminating thoughts that swell up into the confinements of your brain, especially, once Jaehyun comes into your sight.

He sat patiently against the never-ending steps up to your mansion. He seemed to be dressed rather casually despite him being informed of the engagement party and there was a tiny inkling of something beginning to stir deep within you. You perhaps were vexed of this sudden circumstance. There also seemed to be a somber expression etched onto his face as if Michelangelo himself had carved it into his features. You sauntered with your false confidence against the stone path. Uncertainty filled your senses but being the suborn person you are, you ignored it. In a time like this you find yourself absentmindedly staring at the man before you. The suns saffron rays dancing upon his golden skin. He harbored such beauty that put the sun to shame. It was almost enough to distract you from the pensive mood that has clung to the air around you like a blanket. Your unknowing eyes traveled up to his own as you lent in to give him a quick peck on the cheek as a welcoming kiss. However, he withdrew himself almost immediately which left you awestruck. He’d normally never deny you a harmless peck on the cheek and the fact that he did had your stomach swirling uncomfortably. Pain was quick to flash onto your features, although you gathered yourself and a questionable look took its place.

“What’s wrong?”

Your question was simple yet harmless but arose a harrowing look deep within his eyes. If you knew any better, he was certainly troubled. He seemed to ponder about what he was going to say before meeting your inquisitive eyes. He mused, “we need to talk.” You were quick to retaliate, “well isn’t that what we’re doing right now?” He had a lingering look buried deep within his mesmerizing eyes. Almost as if he was contemplating on what to say. Or rather how to say it. He ignored your previous question as he continued with hesitation evident in his voice, “I know that this is probably the worst time to be telling you this. I also know that I should’ve told you this months ago, but I never had the guts to finally admit it. And I hate that I am admitting to it. It’s just that these thoughts have been bothering me for quite some time now and I think it is best if I were to tell you now before anything more substantial happens in this relationship.”

You already knew where this was heading but again you also didn’t want to admit it to yourself. You wanted to spare your feelings until he ultimately crushed them. And so you let him.

“I’m sorry y/n but I think it would be best if we called off the engagement and the marriage along with it.”

It started with a heavy feeling deep within the captivity of your chest. Spreading like branches all throughout your body. It felt like there was a ton of bricks being weighed down on you. suffocating you to no return. And all you could do was sit there as it happened right before your eyes. Just waiting for the storm to pass. Except it didn’t. you never saw it coming. But then again you never see heartbreak coming.

At least not this time.

You fooled yourself if you thought Jaehyun was giving his undivided effort into the relationship. There was always a small part of you that turned a blind eye to it but every time he watched you, you could tell only emotionless eyes came to greet you whenever you gazed into his deep umber ones. No effort to call you whenever he went on long business trips with his family across the ocean. No longing for you and only you.

No love.

Thus, amid trying to spare your feelings and instead coming clean, you were the one at fault who did this to yourself. Not him.

Maybe you were a bit too harsh on yourself, but you had every right to be. If you’re not honest with yourself now, then when will you be?

You hadn’t noticed you’d began crying once you felt the first sprinkle of tears trailing down your rosy cheeks. “When did it happen?” you spoke softly, trying your best to not make it evident that your voice had began to get choked up. His solemn eyes met your own teary-eyed ones and widened substantially once he noticed you’d began crying. His hand quickly ushered up to your cheeks to wipe away the salty tears. It was warm against your cheeks, no thanks to the chilly brutal wind whipping at your figure. It comforted you to say the least.

An expression you hadn’t seen in a while flashed across his face, pity. He couldn’t fathom how much of an effect he had on you. He felt like he had your ever-so delicate heart in his hands and he hated that he had that power over you. Since you were not one to easily give that up and fall into the vulnerability that came along with it. But again, you thought he was different and didn’t have a care in the world of the consequences.

“When did what happen?”

“When did you fall out of love?”

The question left him awestricken. He pondered momentarily before speaking, “I can’t pin point an actual date but even if I could I don’t think I could bare the thought of knowing I broke your heart like that. So, I don’t think it would be advisable for me to- “

“No.”

“Tell me, it’s the least you could do especially when confronting me hours before our engagement party.”

The sudden disdain in your voice had him recoiling. “Y/n all I can say is that it wasn’t sudden. It happened gradually. No matter how hard I tried to keep it from happening, it did. And I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am but- “

“I loved you.” You croaked, now gazing up at him with sorrow filled eyes and staring into the eyes you fell in love with, them feeling like an endless void. Tears dribbling down the arc of your cupid’s bow and onto the plush of your lips, tasting the salty bitterness.

You thought that this was more than just an arranged marriage. You thought the both of you actually had a connection that couldn’t be found any elsewhere. But, you’ve been deceived.

His hands reached down to grab your own as he cradled them as if they were made of porcelain and would shatter in the slightest movement. The pad of his finger flittered over your palm as tears silently rolled down the curves of your cheeks and into your intertwined hands. He apologetically gazed into your eyes once more, “I’m sorry.”

He takes a step back from you, lets your hand fall limply to your side in the process. He shakes his head, an unreadable expression twisted onto his face as he desperately attempts to hold himself together.

“I’m so sorry.”

And with that his presence soon vanishes into the cool airiness of the wind. Leaving you in a stoic mess as you drop to your knees unable to withstand your own weight anymore with what you just endured. You can’t formulate any coherent thought or to try and even make sense of what just happened.

You’d eventually decided to keep the party going and up to schedule since it was too late to cancel and inform the hundred-something number of guests which was a headache on its own. You were solicitous in the fact that you’ll have to endure even more embarrassment having this been an engagement party and those usually consist of two people. Not one that is a sobbing mess over the counter of your own personal bar. Everyone was eyeing you pitifully and a part of you wanted to lash out at them, but you know that you can’t blame them since, well, you were a complete and utter mess.

There was no use in denying it. You knew it. They knew it. Everyone did.

It was an embarrassment of its own having all you friends and family seeing you in a state like this which was not as presentable as you hoped for. Slightly because of the mascara staining the pallor of your cheeks and giving you the illusion of a racoon. And the tiniest noticeable trail of snot laying atop your cupids bow. You didn’t even have the energy to wipe it away. Nor were you sober enough to even take notice of it. Although you weren’t has hammered as you wished to be. That was your goal for tonight at least, to hopefully drown yourself in alcohol rather than sorrow and despair. Normally you’d never show this side of yourself fearing that your family’s business partners would think low of you, but frankly, at this point you didn’t give a single fuck. You’d think that the people gathered at your party would have a brain and heart big enough to show some empathy and understand what you’re going through, but your naïve self knew that in the world that you live in, that is nothing but a fairytale.

Nothing in this world could get worse for you at this point. Considering the fact that you’re lazily sitting against the counter of the bar on your own private yacht. It was a prodigious boat indeed with multiple bars if not just one didn’t titillate your fancy, a dining room and lounge area which was where most of the guests were occupying the area. However, you’d found was a difficulty trying to decipher the faces from ones you do and don’t know. String lights casted the whole boat with warmth despite it being a rather chilling night. And the overly exposing Gucci dress you picked was not doing a decent job of keeping your warmth. You and Jaehyun had planned for a weekend trip in Barbados on your yacht, so that’s where you and the other guests were situated. It almost felt like you were away from the problems that have been bestowed upon you while in the middle of the ocean. Almost. And the beautiful sight to see definitely helped to keep your mind at ease. Your gaze was keen on the coast that lit up and shimmered like strings of gold chains in the distance against the turquoise water that ebbs and laps onto the shoreline.

Surprisingly, the tears have subsided. For now, at least because you know once you’re out of sight you’re sure enough you’ll become a bawling mess. Currently, you just sip your third shrimp cocktail of the night with an emotionless expression imprinted on your face. Despite having it been your third drink, you can still feel the helplessness lingering. So you knew you needed something stronger. It was hilarious how everyone ignored you knowing that the second they bring up the failed engagement, you’d begin crying for the hundredth time that night. And just the acknowledgement of the guest’s behavior, it had you shaking your head in astonishment. Although a few people did apologize from the sad news which to say the least didn’t help at all. Mostly because they weren’t genuine. No one ever was. And you were used to it.

“Dang, whose dog died?”

You almost choke on your drink once you hear what comes out this aloof stranger’s mouth. As you whirl around to face them, your gaze meets the dark lustrous enticing eyes of a man no older than you. You notice how a few strands of honey colored hair sat against the bridge of his nose. And you found yourself resisting the urge to whisk them away. Even with the sun having set far beneath the horizon you are still able to decipher his glowing sun-kissed skin in the dimmest of light as if it were saturated with the sun’s rays. It was as if there was an iridescent glow that emanated within him. Or maybe that was your slightly buzzed mind playing tricks on you. And by the look of the uniform he is wearing and the tray of champagne he is carrying, it is clearly understood that he is in fact a waiter. Your eyes trailed down his vest to find that he had his name clipped onto the cloth. Yukhei. The soft buzz of the alcohol was surely taking its affect on you by the way you’re eyeing the stranger right before you. And he surely noticed it as well.

“Excuse me?”

Your question had a smirk gravitating on his plump lips. “I’m sorry but I couldn’t help but notice your somber mood let alone on this whole boat.”

You’d have fooled yourself if you thought you saw sympathy flash across his features but was gone as soon as it came. You eyed him carefully, “no need to be sorry or try to comfort me. Besides, shouldn’t you be doing your job? That’s what we’re paying you for anyway.”

He tries his best to keep his facial expressions neutral, but you read him like an open book as a faint look of hurt washes over his face. “You know I could, but why would I when you’re so obviously distressed?” he quips sarcastically.

You sniffle, “am not.”

A snicker leaves his lips and flows into the brisk airiness of the ocean night as it leaves you entranced as if it were a sirens song. It’s so mellifluous to the ears that it even has the birds jealous. You surely wouldn’t mind hearing that every morning you tell your already buzzed self.

His fervid gaze dug so far deep into your skin to where it had you frozen as if you were a marbled statue. Almost like he was the male medusa. Although far more attractive.

You cursed at your half-drunk self for making it obvious that you clearly are liking what you’re seeing. And all he could do was watch you with slight fascination in his piercing chocolate-brown eyes.

“Is this seat taken?” he gestured towards the seat next to you. His all too smooth melodic voice sent shivers all throughout your body that elicited visible goose-bumps on your skin. Or maybe you were just cold, who knows. A slight smirk crept onto his features as you motioned for him to sit and that the seat was in fact unoccupied.

A short time seemed to pass until he interrupted the comfortable silence, “so, I heard of the unfortunate news.”

Just of the mention of it had you mumbling I’m not drunk enough for this, although luckily it was too incoherent for him to decipher what you exactly said.

You ignored his previous statement and eyed his tray of champagne instead, “you know what, I’m getting sick of shrimp cocktail.” Taking your unvoiced hint, he handed you the crystalline glass which you gladly pinched the delicate stem of the champagne flute between your manicured fingers. You lifted the glass up to your red lips and took a short swig of the sparkling Armand de Brignac. The overly expensive golden liquid tingled as it slid all the way down your throat and you gulped along with a satisfying ah leaving your lips.

As you looked in his direction, amusement was written all over his handsome features. It was another glass and a half and an even more so hammered self until he speaks once again, “so princess, care to tell me what’s on your mind?” your eyes widened at his nickname he’s seemingly given you despite the two of you just having met. “First of all, Yukhei, I don’t know you well enough to spew my feelings at you which I’m sure the second you leave you’ll go bad-mouthing me.” It was obvious you had trust issues but that was the least of your concern as you turned back to look at his expression which had dropped after your remark. “I don’t know where you got that information from but if you hadn’t noticed yet, I’m a server, and even if I did go ‘bad-mouthing’ you, who was going to believe me, or let alone pay attention?” his counter argument had you realizing that he did in fact have a point even if it was blunt. But it was the hard reality you lived in.

You hummed in acknowledgement, twirling the dainty crystalline stem of your already empty champagne glass between your fingers as your groggy eyes dropped to the golden bubbly liquid in his hands, “well then, if you are a server why don’t you shut up and give me another glass of that champagne?” you retort.

Another jaw-dropping smile graced his lips as he happily handed you a much-needed extra glass of the liquid for what you were about to do. “You might want to grab some popcorn because this is going to be a long night,” you warned.

And so you spent the rest of your drunken night spilling your troubles onto this poor stranger which you didn’t have the light of day to even get to know. He was genuine, from what you could tell, listening intently and being the shoulder to cry on. And yes, as expected the water works decided to act up once again. However, it wasn’t only one sided and he also spoke up about his troubles, which you were sure you’d forget about once the morning came and you were sober again. Although after the night, you could say there was some jarring intimacy between the two of you that sparked something in you, but you just couldn’t pin point what exactly.

A few platitundinous weeks have passed since your last encounter with the unfairly handsome waiter and you hate to admit it but, you missed talking to someone about your feelings. You also missed the multitude of champagne glasses he showered you with that night. You appreciated how he comforted you with his reassuring words and alcohol. No matter how much people believed you were a cold-hearted bitch, you in fact had the opposite. A too delicate of a heart. You regretted becoming that vulnerable to Jaehyun. And now you’re paying the price. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have thoughts about him. In fact a bit too much if you were honest, to where you wished you could drink your body weight once again and hopefully forget him. But sadly, the world is a cruel place and you had to mend your feelings through time. I guess I can’t buy myself out of this one huh.

Although your thoughts didn’t only focus on Jaehyun, but that friendly waiter that your parents hired ages ago. Believe it or not you’ve seen him on your yacht when your family would host important events cruising from person to person handing out whatever was on his tray at that specific time. And other times you’d see him bartending, handing the customers their alcoholic beverage with a welcoming smile plastered on his face. You took notice he always had a smile gracing his features, although his seemed different. In a crowd full of fake smiles, his was the single genuine one that stood out from all the others and had your eyes glued to him. He was a perfectly painted picture indeed. Touched by the hands of renaissance painters themselves. You could see why your parents hired him. It certainly had your parents’ future business partners and clients he encountered staying a bit longer each night. Which understandably, was good for your parent’s company that you were soon to inherit once found your ideal partner. Or moreover once another arranged marriage is set up and you no longer have a voice in the situation rather than marry him solely based off his price-tag. After the abrupt ending of your engagement, your parents were more than disappointed and were quick to put forth a few more matches that were up to their standards. Although after meeting with them you could confidently say they’re no Jaehyun. And just the thought of his name had you reaching for the nearest bottle of bourbon. At this rate you’d be spending your day in alcoholism interventions. You found that after the incident with Jaehyun, he left another void unfilled that he previously occupied. And you were on the hunt for the perfect victim to help aid with it.

After your many failed attempts at trying to go on dates you could say you completely gave up hope in trying to find a decent man. So once again, you found your calling which was the stool of your bar in your gargantuan mansion. Where the marbled halls felt like a never-ending maze, a labyrinth, if you will. Your manicured finger circled the rim of your glass of bourbon as it distracted you momentarily from the bountiful thoughts that swelled up in your brain. You noticed the current bartender left for who knows what reason but nevertheless you were ecstatic to be alone for more than two seconds. Or so you thought.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you brought a sleeping bag with you every time you were at a bar given that’s where you spend most of your time,” The smooth voice purred. Your eyes lazily fluttered up to the tall figure standing across the bar. It was none other than Yukhei. You snorted, “I’m offended you’d ever imply me laying in a sleeping bag.” You swigged the rest of the bourbon in a mouthful and grimaced at the strong bitterness, regretting the action soon after. A slight smirk grew on his face, “with the way you’re downing your alcohol, your liver will soon be done for,” he motioned to your already tipsy self, at 6pm.

“Don’t be too hopeful,” you gibe sarcastically. And there it was again, that smile you’d grown accustomed to. You hadn’t noticed but a subconscious smile of your own spread on your lips once you saw his addicting grin. His dark eyes glimmered with jesting amusement as he viewed your figure, “I’m just saying, instead of downing your feelings with alcohol maybe you could talk about them.” There was a linger of hope evident in his voice. Throughout your time speaking with him, you noticed how intent he was on comforting you whether it be with his own reassuring words or alcohol. But either way you appreciated them both and couldn’t complain. Your mind wandered back to your last encounter and the words that were spilled between each other. You didn’t know whether to believe it or not, but a certain type of trust began to grow solely from that one interaction a few weeks ago. And you had a feeling more of those encounters would occur. His proposition was tempting and had you succumbing to it as you spoke, “what are you now, my therapist?” A light-hearted laugh fell from his lips, “if you want to call it that then sure, but I genuinely want to know what’s on that pretty little mind of yours.”

His small confession had a rosy blush dusting your cheeks as your eyes shot back down to the empty crystal cup. You stammer, “quite a confession given I haven’t ever spoke to you before our last encounter.” He reached for your empty glass and discarded it, instead placing a cup of water before you. “Well, I felt bad that nobody went to comfort you after, ya know, so I took it upon myself to spare a few minutes of my day,” he quickly added, “and I definitely didn’t regret any of it.” He didn’t have a mean bone in his body, moreover he was made of nothing but positivity, which we radiated. And you admired that especially when you seemingly didn’t have any. You blankly stared at the cup of water, “I don’t know if you noticed but, I’m here specifically in the hopes of getting tipsy to try and forget a few things,” you openly confessed. Now he definitely felt like your therapist. A concerned frown weighed down the corners of his mouth as his eyebrows furrowed, “care to share your thoughts?” A sigh left your lips as you ultimately agreed since you were so pliable to just a few words and shared the hardships of your wealthy life-style and all the failed dates you experimented with to see if you’d found a match at the sea of men that fell right before your feet. You adored how he would watch you intently without a faulter in his gaze. To say the least, he felt fond of you and your life stories that you were always open to share. Although not just with anybody, with him it was different. He stuck out like a sore thumb against the sea of stoic expressionless faces that their only thoughts were the number in their bank account. No humanity was ever around you and you felt it was necessary to leap at the chance when a man like Yukhei has blessed your tiresome life with it. Despite him being a waiter, the thought never bothered you, however, you knew that with a notorious family like your own, it would be difficult to ever let him touch you in front of your family’s presence. But you had to admit, the thought of the rebellious action had a smirk growing on your features. Nevertheless, you knew you couldn’t get ahead of yourself and pushed the image aside momentarily. A certain hopelessness began to gnaw at you and you loathed that feeling whenever it would occur. Which is why you always found yourself hurling your money on mundane things that were never essential in the first place. But that never stopped you. Even when you dropped out of college to pursue god knows what with the avalanches of cash that you always had to fall back on. There was always a safety net for you which you took advantage of greatly. Which was evident with the way you sauntered down the streets of Monte Carlo in nothing but a silk black dress, that complemented the dark atmosphere that encased you. As you gazed up at the night sky, you couldn’t help but feel akin to the moon as it diminishes against the ruthless power of the city lights. The air felt sticky given that you were only a few miles from the sea and had your hair reacting negatively to its effects. So you ducked into the nearest casino. The entrance was grandiose with marbled statues on either side of your figure and a water fountain in the center of all the chaos. You heard distant sounds of people winning jackpots of the many machines that filled the rows. As well as clinks of champagne glasses followed by a congratulatory cheers! You stood at the entrance, a statue yourself as you didn’t know where to head. It was almost as if God himself heard you in that very moment when your eyes unsuspectedly caught the glimpse of what seemed to be him and an apathetic expression was quick to appear on your features. What was he doing here? The thought crossed your mind as you blankly stared at him, in awe. Suddenly, “ma’am either join everyone else, or leave, you cannot block the exit.” It finally dawned on you for how long you had been gazing at him like a deer in headlights as the security guard spoke to you. You nodded in his direction and apologized as you abruptly made your way over to where you’d learned is your new home. The bar. You were the epitome of a mess and frankly you were aware of it. It was also best if you sat in order to spare yourself the discomfort of standing in your thin heeled leather Jimmy Choo pumps. It was also necessary of you to order a drink or two after witnessing the very man you fell in love with and had to bare the heartbreak of him ending it with you. You were tempted to barge up in front of him and all his little friends and give him a piece of your mind, however, that was never how a person like you held yourself. Instead you owned nothing but class and maybe a bit of sass. But you knew how the ordeal would end up, embarrassing yourself then shortly after breaking down behind the mini bar. Never again, you muttered to yourself. Hastily, you ordered a brimming glass of champagne since it was the perfect fit for the night given you weren’t looking to get completely and utterly hammered like you did all those nights ago in the comfort of you own yacht. During this short vacation trip to Monte Carlo you found yourself missing a certain someone despite you not wanting to form any sizable feelings towards him. And him being Yukhei. Just the thought of him had a smile stretching on your pink lips although it abruptly fell once you felt the presence of Jaehyun next to you. You watched from your peripheral as he ordered a little bit of alcoholic indulgence himself with his usual nimble grin. However his gaze soon met yours and you watched as it fell and his eyes with it too. Years of memories seemingly flashed before the both of you just from that simple gaze and for a moment, it felt like you were never separated, however, the daydream came to a halt once the first words were spilled by him, “what are you doing here?”

You scoffed in astonishment as your features contort to that of annoyance, “I could ask you the same thing,” you then chug the remanence of the liquid gold. You knew you were going to need it. An expression read as bewilderment was seen on his face, although soon diminishes, “I had a business trip I had to attend to, now what’s your excuse?” you simply smirked as you eyed his tall figure, “what’s the harm in a little self-indulgence with a trip nonother than to Monte Carlo?” you inquired. “You of all people should know the significance of this place.” At the mention of it, the memories seemed to play like a movie. From when you had met him gambling his life away at the casinos, to where you unknowingly joined him as well. His presence was reckless as long as he stayed in your life and you overall reveled in it. It led you to inquire that he simply enjoyed the rush of it despite him having handfuls of cash himself. The pensive mood that has taken hostage between the both of you evaporated as he sat down next to you and a miniscule grin tugged at his lips. Especially when he smelled his favorite perfume that you’d always wear when around him which was none other than the newest line of Dolce & Gabbana. But nowadays he didn’t get that luxury although the moment was nostalgic nonetheless. He also took notice of a new addition to your necklace collection as his eyes trailed down to your clavicle where a golden pendant lay atop your carefully exfoliated skin. “I see you’ve gotten a new necklace,” he gave you a knowing look. Your eyes glanced down, and your hand reached up to grasp it since you forgot what you’d worn on your night out, “oh yes of course,” you gasped, “they had silver, but I looked better in gold.” Your response had a small laugh leave his soft lips and with it brought memories of when you were so used to hearing his laugh, it was truly music to your ears. But times have changed, and you were quick to rid yourself of that thought knowing yourself all too well and how easily you can get attached. The rest of the night was spent basking in each other’s presences and catching up with one another as well as mundane business statistics all in the meanwhile sipping at your mimosas and champagne until you heard the faint buzzing in your ears and you knew it was time to head to the sweet serenity of your private yacht. All the while wishing it was Yukhei with whom you’d spent your eventful night with and not your sight for sore eyes ex.

You lounged against the posh seat of your armchair as you watched the plethora of guests before you chatter away until their wits end. Despite it being your own party you’re hosting, you forgot how utterly draining it could be having to keep a conversation going when it only consisted of the market and who was engaged with who. It bored you to the point it had you wanting to aim a gun at your head and end it right then and there. To be frank, half of these people you didn’t know on a personal basis. Not even your ‘friends’ which you already established were specifically there for your all-inclusive trips to Turks & Caicos and to all the galas you were invited to which permitted you to bring guests. Not to mention they got a free pass when you’d head to upscale restaurants where one entrée off the menu with a name that could only be perceived as gibberish, costed more than some people’s monthly salary. Normally you’d take pity on yourself for growing accustomed to these toxic ways which could only lead to the impending feeling of suffocation upon one’s self. To be completely honest it did poke at you uncomfortably, but true happiness was where your wallet was, accompanied by bathtubs of champagne while sipping at your mimosas in the comfort of your own yacht. Just as you sat up to adjust your miniskirt, you caught a glimpse of a honey stained head of hair and your eyes suddenly lit up as they connected with his own and a smile soon danced on his lips. It was wondrous the affect he had on you, but you wouldn’t question it since it only brought you happiness and that’s all that mattered. You hastily sauntered along the wooden deck through the crowds of people which lingered of expensive scents and made your way towards the boy who beamed a smile at you. The sound of your heels came to an abrupt halt once you stood before him and spoke, “how could I forget my favorite waiter was working for the night?” he contemplated in mock thought, “hmm I guess all those glasses of champagne have finally caught up to you,” he quipped. Your mouth agape as a guffaw leaves your lips and you playfully hit his arm, although the one that laid loosely at his side, not the arm that carried the tray of mimosas since that would’ve been a disaster waiting to happen. “To think I was warming up to you,” you say flabbergasted as you clutched your hands against your chest in false pain. He hummed in amusement, “nice to know I was getting somewhere then,” he eyed you with a certain glint in his enticing eyes. You scanned the tray of mimosas as you grabbed one for yourself and pinched the dainty stem of the glass, discarding the straw from your drink and pressing the rim to your painted lips, allowing the orange liquid to disappear down the column of your throat. You smirked, “champagne is overrated, mimosas are the new go-to.” His eyes widened at what just escaped your lips and a dumbfounded laugh left his lips as he hunched over slightly but shortly recomposed himself, “you do realize mimosas are one half champagne, right?” You couldn’t believe your own stupidity and internally laugh at yourself. You shrug it off, “yeah of course, I totally knew that,” you sigh into the glass as you bring it up to your lips once more. Thankfully the conversation cascaded into a different topic and soon enough the both of you were back into speaking freely and with ease. You learned he was quite an adventurous person since he loved bungee jumping off bridges and even-wait for it-eating raw crickets for fun, mainly when he goes camping with his friends. He fascinated you more than any other individual you have ever met, and that’s saying something. Not even Jaehyun could compare. You’ve had your fair share of greeting many people because of your parents’ occupancy since that’s what the company called for and Yukhei topped the list of most interesting people you’ve known. In the midst of your blissful conversation you felt a tap on your shoulder paired with yukhei’s expression crumbling, and a voice you’d known so well joined you over the ambience of the warm night, “fancy seeing you here, y/n.” You whirled around to meet the man who’s looks were devastatingly handsome. Jaehyun had appeared next to the both of you wearing his usual dark washed ripped jeans and jean jacket, paired with a navy-blue silk button down with just a pinch of his unmarred chest peeking through, enough to bless your eyes. He had an unknowing grin plastered over his face as it slightly irked you since he was interrupting an enjoyable conversation. You lifted a brow, “well Jaehyun, I am the hostess after all.” He nodded, already knowing that clearly but continued nonetheless, “heard you were, so I thought I might stop by to see you again,” he added. Again? The word echoed in Yukhei’s brain since it wasn’t brought to light that the two of you were ever in touch since the break-up. You mentally cursed and panicked at Jaehyun’s choice of words but a voice soon sounded. “Care to sit down with me?” he motioned towards the array of cushioned seats in the center of the large scaled deck. You grimaced at the thought of having to explain the whole situation to Yukhei later but when you faced him as if asking for permission to take your leave, he lightly nodded to you, acknowledging your leave and waving you off. His face crestfallen, and you could see the faint look of hurt flash in his eyes but left along with him as he attended the other guests. The both of you managed to find unoccupied seats and plopped down the second you reached them. You crossed your legs, to show whatever modesty you had left since you weren’t planning on flashing anybody due to the provocative miniskirt you had chosen to wear. You reveled in the warm air that emitted from the open sea and gazed up at the stars as they faltered beneath the powerful city lights. There was a slight breeze that whipped at your figure and had you shuttering slightly. Jaehyun immediately took notice of this, “are you cold? Here let me give you my jacket,” he got up to rid himself of the cloth, but you were quick to raise a hand, “no, no I’m fine don’t worry about me,” you denied. He raised a brow in question, “are you sure?” you nodded, “positive.” And with that, he sat back down to where the impending silence fell upon the two of you like a rainstorm. You wanted to voice your thoughts and ask why exactly of all the times, he’s here. Why is he suddenly appearing in your life again after you’ve managed to make some progress since the breakup? Why now? And so you had to ask. “Why are you here?” His eyes darted to you in an instant once he heard those words and gazed up at you through the few umber strands of hair that guarded his eyes, almost innocently. “What do you mean?” you scoffed, not believing this whole act he is trying to sell. “You know what, and I know you didn’t go to Harvard for nothing,” you pointed a weak accusatory finger at him. He inwardly sighed, bringing the crystalline glass of the mimosa up to his parched lips and sipping at the orange liquid. He haphazardly whisked the bothersome strands out of his eyes and swiftly brought his hand to lay atop the small of your thigh and gripped it with the lightest of pressure, “y/n, it is not a secret, quite honestly I’m perplexed you haven’t noticed yet.” It was at this moment it finally dawned on you which had your mouth open, agape. You finally acknowledged the way he eyed you the other night in the exorbitant casino, almost lustfully. Thankfully you were too drunk to have even noticed it because if you had, who knows what would’ve happened. But what irked you the most was that he had the audacity to confront you in a time like this where you had almost gotten over the heartbreaking split and moved onto a happier place which of course was in the presence of Yukhei. If he was looking for a fuck and chuck, then, he came to the wrong place. And you were more than happy to throw the remanence of your drink into the owner of the cocky grin of Jaehyun. And you did not regret your actions once you saw his expression contort into that of pure bewilderment as he stood up with a sudden gasp along with the rest of the guests within the proximity. You abruptly stood up as well and yelled at him with what you had wished to say all along, “how dare you come onto my boat and sweet-talk me into thinking I’d actually hook up with you. Let me enlighten you darling, you’re the one who ended our engagement, not me. I can’t even believe I ever loved a dick like you. So let me ask you this once more, why exactly are you still here? You know what, don’t answer that, instead why don’t you stick that in your mimosa and suck it.” The sudden appearance of Jaehyun had the doors opening to your past which you purposefully locked and tossed the key away but seeing him again made the door crack open just the slightest and you knew you’ve already done enough damage control in your life to go through the pain of it for the second time. So you made the right decision to cut all ties from him the second you both split. But it certainly didn’t feel like the right decision since you were hunched over the mini bar drinking your body weight in whatever alcohol you could get your shaky hands onto. This has occurred more times that you’d like but you wouldn’t refrain from chugging the cups contents in attempt for liquid comfort. And you were more than happy to have Yukhei by your side through it all. That was more than you could say Jaehyun would do. Yukhei was such a kind soul to you, only a few times would he complain when you’ve had one too many and would talk to you about it and somehow sober you up without you taking notice. Call you crazy, but you could tell there was something there, lingering between yearnful gazes and sly grins. There, between your close proximity with Yukhei’s broad chest as he softly spoke in your ear, “I think you’ve had one too many, love.” His warm breath hitting the crevice of your ear just right, had the hairs at the back of your neck instantly perk up. The way his ever-so-soft lips grazed your ear had your tipsy self-wanting more. More than you could ever hope for. More than you’d ever had in a long time. And so you swiveled around in your chair as you faced his intoxicating demeanor, hummed as you brought a lazy finger up to his chest and gently pressed against it, “since when are you the boss of me?” you teased. He rolled his eyes and scoffed, although, by the slight curl of his lip and the glimmer in his dark hazelnut eyes, you could tell he was amused. And just the sight of it had you subconsciously nibbling at your lip between your pearly whites. His eyes laid upon your figure once more with a certain glint in them that you couldn’t quite put your pretty little finger on, “since I saw you tripping over air to reach another glass of alcohol, and so I can confidently say, it’d be best to sober up a bit,” then he sauntered behind the counter and slid a cup of water in your direction. You stared at it, unamused. “The Yukhei I know would keep the shots coming, have you gone soft on me?” you gasped. A small mock-laugh left his lips, “me? Soft? Sorry to break it to you sweetheart but that’d never happen.” Despite knowing you all too well and wanting to shower you with the much-needed alcohol, there was a small voice in his head that told him otherwise. He saw the way a hopeful expression surged onto your features and found hilarity when he ultimately saw it drop the moment he spoke, “but I’m going to be your overbearing parent for the night and say maybe it’s time to turn in for the night.” You grumbled at his response and swigged the remanence of the vodka. You thought he’d take pity on you and be inclined to hand you a few more shots since the night you had was one that you’d wished you’d forget. You hated the way Jaehyun could effortlessly toy with your feelings. As if you were his own personal ragdoll. It had you drinking until your wits end which undeniably wasn’t a good choice since your liver was surly to give out if you kept at it. Maybe Yukhei had a point. Maybe he cared about you. And just the thought of it had a miniscule blush dusting your cheeks as you glared at the rim of your crystalline glass, all too drunk to process what’s happening or even remember.

The suns saffron rays spewed warmth onto your drowsy figure with each heave of breath you took. The sun was kind to you in a world of madness. And that’s all you could ask for in this very moment. Because the second your eyes fluttered open, you were hit with a massive hangover. You groaned into your pillow or what you thought was a pillow but turned out to be someone’s side. You withdrew quickly only to recognize the head of hair almost instantaneously. A soft smile grew on your lips but soon fell as you desperately attempted to recall last nights events. After him scolding you the night before, everything else morphed into a jumbled mess, a blur. Your troubled self soon took notice of the figure beside you beginning to stir ever so slightly until his own eyes awakened due to the powerful saffron rays spilling into the room with nothing to guard it since the yachts cabin always had the curtains drawn. He seemed to finally acknowledge where he was and jolted, now fully awake. He raked a veiny hand through his locks, obviously distressed, “sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep,” he stammers. Those words sort of cleared the air, but you had to ask with hesitation evident in your groggy voice, “so we didn’t…” Your eyes were meticulous as you eyed him. His own eyes widen substantially at the question you were hinting at. “No, no I just took you to your room since you were too hammered to walk on your own and then I guess I fell asleep too.” Although that was partially true, he didn’t want to admit the other part. The one where he gazed at your peacefully sleeping figure as he brushed the stray hairs away from your bare forehead. The one where he tenderly traced every contour and crevice of your unmarred face, to the cupids bow, bleeding into your perfectly sculpted nose as if mimicking the constellations that leave a map in the ebony skies, until he too fell asleep in the comfort of the moon’s soft light. This was the whole truth that had him hesitant to fully admit to it since he also had mixed emotions towards it. But he knew at heart why he did it. Although anybody would be able to tell he was completely and utterly smitten with you. He recalled last night’s events, mostly when Jaehyun appeared and he instantly noticed your smile that he ultimately was the cause of, fall at the sound of his dulcet voice. He’d be lying if he hadn’t the tiniest inkling of beguilement at your reaction. Knowing that you’d rather bask in his presence than Jaehyun’s. As for Jaehyun, Yukhei would be more than happy to knock his teeth down his throat with what he had you endure but sadly, that was not in his job requirements. However, he owed it to him because without Jaehyun, the both of you wouldn’t have bonded over him. Each second he spent with you always left a grin lingering on his features. And he knows a day won’t go by when it doesn’t. As for you, you were confident there was not a bone in your body that doesn’t feel strongly about him, and you don’t think you’re crazy to assume he thinks the same as you. You were too lucky enough to have him by your side through every disheartening moment that always had a boy on the receiving end of it. But ironically enough, this boy was the cure to your troubles. It was more than you could’ve hoped for in the world that you lived in. Despite how posh it was, you weren’t naïve to believe he aided to a certain feeling of hopelessness. And instead replaced it with fulfillment. Just from the couple months you’ve gotten to know Yukhei, it felt like you’d known him throughout all your life and never wanted this feeling to end abruptly. And you were afraid to know what it’d feel like without him by your side through it all, so it was now or never.

“How could I have ever been lucky enough to have you?” You murmured against his chest. Throughout this time the two of you simply basked in each other’s presence since that was what comforted both of you. It was convenient enough until you spoke. It was barely coherent, but he could easily decipher it and once he did, his own cheeks tinged a rosy shade and his eyes squinted as a cheeky smile arose. “Mind if you elaborate?” As you gazed up at him almost lovingly, it appeared as though he had gems forever embedded in his eyes and made you fall ever so deeper into his spell. But this time, you let it happen without a care in the world. “Why would I when you so clearly know you’re the antidote to all my problems? When you know I would spend my time nowhere else but in your arms? When in year’s time, I will always find myself running back to you?” If it were anymore possible that cheeky grin morphed into a toothy smile which you’d have grown oh-so accustomed to as he too gazed at you, “don’t tell me that the y/n is confessing to me?” he quipped. A soft chuckle fell so effortlessly from your lips, “yes, I suppose I am.” And at that confession he hastily connected his lips with your own as the both of you sighed into the kiss, relieved that the painful wait was finally over and relished the contact as if the both of you were deprived of it. The short-lived paradise came to an end and you found yourself in a dazed state as you gawk at the man before you. And you soon realize that whenever with him, there will be no need of spilling tears into your glasses of champagne anymore.

A sprinkle of champagne would suffice.

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kansas-moth · 5 years

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Way Too Early NFL Predictions: 2019 Edition

We’ve still got a few months until the season officially kicks off with Chicago taking on Green Bay for the league’s 100th season, but it’s still fun to speculate what team will please and what team will disappoint. So, why don’t we take a look and see our division winners and wild cards? Of course, this is likely gonna be wrong in a couple months.

AFC East: New England (11-5)

The retirement of Rob Gronkowski certainly hurt the team’s offense a bit, but the Patriots are still the Patriots and for as long as the Belichick-Brady tandem remains in New England, they’re going to continue winning. It helps that the New York Jets are really the only threat to New England’s dominance. Buffalo and Miami are still the walking mediocrity that they have been for most of this decade.

Rest of Division:

New York Jets: 9-7

Miami Dolphins: 6-10

Buffalo Bills: 6-10

AFC North: Cleveland (12-4)

It’s amazing that just a few seasons ago, the Browns had joined the 2008 Detroit Lions as the only team in NFL history to go 0-16 and now, they look like Super Bowl contenders. Baker Mayfield is the savior this franchise has been searching for since Modell screwed the city over. Adding OBJ, Kareem Hunt, and Jarvis Landry only helped to make this offense even more terrifying, the defense is looking smooth as well. Pittsburgh is fading away fast, Baltimore is all defense, and as usual, Cincinnati is just bungling around. Cleveland will cruise their way to winning their first division title since 1989, back when they were in the AFC Central.

Rest of Division:

Baltimore Ravens: 10-6

Pittsburgh Steelers: 9-7

Cincinnati Bengals: 4-12

AFC West: Kansas City (12-4)

Perhaps this is just bias on my part, since Kansas City is my team, but despite the improvements of Denver and the Chargers, I'm not seeing them dethroning the Chiefs anytime soon. Considering what the reigning NFL MVP did to opposing defenses last season, I fail to see a reason why he won't do that this season. The uncertainty of Tyreek Hill playing has put a damper on the team's ambitions, but Travis Kelce is still an elite tight end, Damien Williams is a strong playmaker, Sammy Watkins is back and ready to play at elite levels, and rookie Mecole Hardman is bound to make an impact. Additions in Frank Clark and Tyrann Mathieu will make great strides on a struggling defense, though the loss of Justin Houston, Dee Ford, and Eric Berry certainly hurt. The team's offense will do more than enough to keep them on the top of the division.

Rest of Division:

Los Angeles Chargers: 11-5

Denver Broncos: 8-8

Oakland Raiders: 6-10

AFC South: Indianapolis (13-3)

In what could possibly be the toughest division in all of football, it's difficult choosing a favorite for the division crown. Marcus Mariota will do great things in Tennessee, Nick Foles and an amazing defense will help Jacksonville stay relevant, and you really can't count out J.J Watt and the Texans quite yet, though it's hard to vote against Andrew Luck, especially seeing how well he played last season. A strong offense will help Indianapolis cut through opposing defenses, though I'm imagining it'll be a very close race between the four teams. I'm excited to see what these teams will do in the season and I think it's safe to say all four teams are Super Bowl contenders at this point.

Rest of Division:

Jacksonville Jaguars: 11-5

Tennessee Titans: 10-6

Houston Texans: 10-6

AFC Wild Cards:

Los Angeles Chargers:

I don't like putting a division rival here, but the Chargers are too good to ignore. Philip Rivers is a fantastic QB and the Chargers defense will put many opposing QBs through hell, but I don't believe they've got enough in them to dethrone Kansas City quite yet. Though, their defense and strong offense will be enough to get them the fifth seed.

Jacksonville Jaguars:

The Jaguars have an elite defense and a good QB in Nick Foles, an elite running game and a strong passing game. With all of these qualities would make them a Super Bowl contender for sure, I'm just not too sure how Foles will fare with them. He's definitely an improvement over Bortles, but only time to tell how much damage he'll be able to do with them. Andrew Luck is arguably the best QB in the division and I don't believe the Jaguars defense will be able to stop him, but who knows?

NFC East: Dallas (12-4)

The Cowboys are a great team led by a great QB, defense, and elite playmakers in Amari Cooper and Ezekiel Elliott. The only real threat to the team are the Eagles, and that's only if Carson Wentz stays healthy. The Giants will continue to be a sentient derp for as long as Eli Manning is at the helm and the Redskins are probably the most dysfunctional team in all of NFL at the moment. Dallas should have a fairly easy ride to the division crown, though the rest of the NFC is slowly getting stronger, keeping them from having a better record.

Rest of Division:

Philadelphia Eagles: 11-5

New York Giants: 6-10

Washington Redskins: 3-13

NFC North: Chicago (12-4)

Though it's difficult to choose against Aaron Rodgers and the Packers, the Bears defense will be more than enough to make opposing QBs shudder in fear, even the more elite QBs like Patrick Mahomes, Aaron Rodgers, or Philip Rivers will have their days turned into living nightmares thanks to elite pass rushers like Khalil Mack. It feels strange saying this, but Chicago will be the kings of the NFC North for years to come thanks to their young QB in Mitch Trubisky and an elite defense, this team will eventually morph into the 1985 Bears that bullied opposing offenses as they cruised to their first Super Bowl victory.

Rest of Division:

Green Bay Packers: 11-5

Minnesota Vikings: 9-7

Detroit Lions: 6-10

NFC West: Los Angeles Rams (14-2)

The defending NFC champions aren't going anywhere anytime soon. Jared Goff is young and has plenty more years as an elite playmaker, as long as Todd Gurley remains healthy, their ground game will be hard to stop and will be fairly unpredictable, their defense is still one of the best in the game, though their division certainly improved. Seattle is still a difficult team to face thanks to Russell Wilson and San Francisco will be a team to watch for as long as Jimmy G. remains healthy. George Kittle will become the NFL's next Rob Gronkowski and will be a key playmaker for the 49ers, and though the Cardinals will likely miss the playoffs, they've improved slightly thanks to their first overall pick and Larry Fitzgerald is still a dangerous player to play against. Regardless, I fail to see any reason why the Rams won't take the division, and perhaps the conference, home again.

Rest of Division:

Seattle Seahawks: 11-5

San Francisco 49ers: 10-6

Arizona Cardinals: 5-11

NFC South: New Orleans (13-3)

Drew Brees is still an elite QB and the Saints still have one of the best offenses in the league, and for as long as the Super Bowl XLIV MVP is at the helm, they'll continue to bully opposing defenses. Their division rivals have done little to improve. If Cam Newton doesn't stay healthy, the Panthers will struggle mightily. Atlanta seems to be back to doing what they do best and as long as they stay mostly healthy, Matt Ryan and Julio Jones will cause a few issues for the Saints, but their defense will let them down, and the Buccaneers are still the Buccaneers. The Saints will be the class of the NFC South until Brees retires and that likely won't happen for a long time.

Rest of Division:

Atlanta Falcons: 11-5

Carolina Panthers: 7-9

Tampa Bay Buccaneers: 5-11

NFC Wild Cards

Atlanta Falcons:

Though the Falcons were severely held back by numerous injuries on both sides of the ball, they're back and ready to kick some tail. Matt Ryan is still an elite QB and Julio Jones is still the best receiver in the league, well, maybe alongside Antonio Brown and Odell Beckham Jr. Though their defense will likely hold them back from being able to topple New Orleans, they have the blessing of playing in a fairly weak division. Their offense should be enough to win them the fifth seed before they ultimately choke in January.

Green Bay Packers:

Like I said earlier, it's difficult to choose against Aaron Rodgers and the Packers, but it's unclear how first time head coach Matt LaFleur will do. With Rodgers at the helm, the offense should do some damage, but it's unclear how he'll work with his new head coach. It'll be a hard fight against Philadelphia and Seattle to win the final seed, but in the end, Aaron Rodgers and company will be enough to fight off their opponents for the final seed.

And with all this in mind, this wraps up my way too early NFL predictions. So, do you agree with my predictions or do you have other ideas? Who do you think will surprise and who do you think will disappoint? Let me know your thoughts down below. Thanks for reading the ramblings of a random moth.

#nfl #kansas city chiefs #new england patriots #cleveland browns #indianapolis colts #dallas cowboys #chicago bears #los angeles rams #new orleans saints

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islareeveswriting · 6 years

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Good company, and a good time, is the best distraction.

Molly had no reason to believe that wasn’t true. Everytime she needed her mind taken off something, that philosophy had pulled through. From a toddler sat on her father’s lap as he made her giggle, and consequently forgetting the nurse sat on the other side of her preparing a large needle to jab in Molly’s arm, taking some blood to test for glandular fever that would turn out to be a bad case of tonsillitis. Flash forward fifteen years and the same could be said for her mother and sister taking her out for an early breakfast the morning her A-Level results would be released. The company, and the stack of pancakes, took Molly’s mind faraway from the sick feeling that had set up camp in her stomach and kept her awake all night.

There wasn’t a scenario Molly could imagine where surrounding herself with her friends or family and doing something she loved, wouldn’t be able distract her from something she’d rather forget all together.

Until she was stood in the kitchen alone, on her birthday, downing a vodka concoction that tasted closer to how Molly imagined acid might taste than anything actually consumable. All around her were people having a good time, dancing, chatting, making the most of the party, but Molly was fully submerged in her thoughts. Getting ready had been fine. Classic pop songs, the sort Molly might sing karaoke too if she hadn’t hated the thought of karaoke with every fibre of her being, were blaring around the flat and they’d all been singing and dancing around the place as they pre-drunk pre-mixed cocktails and got themselves ready. People had arrived, and still Molly had been fine, smiling and thanking people for their birthday wishes, helping them with drinks, doing the best job of hostess she could, talking to as many people as she could.

But that was all done now and Molly was alone in her kitchen with nothing but her thoughts for company.

It was only made harder when what Molly so desperately wanted to forget was constantly staring her in the face. The fact Ryan had called that morning and told her he wouldn’t be able to make it down for her birthday weekend at all, frantically apologetic, screamed through the empty space next to her, through the arm that wasn’t around her waist. It wasn’t just that he wasn’t there though, it was more what that said and what Molly had riding on his promise that he would be there. She’d put everything on that, every hope and wish on Ryan turning up for her birthday weekend. It was the weekend they were going to fix everything. The last chance. And so the empty space next to her and the lack or arm around her was making Molly face up to things she had been playing ignorant to for weeks.

It was done. They were done.

Deep down, next to the feeling that she didn’t want it to end, she knew it had to. She knew it wasn’t right anymore and no amount of anything could patch that over. Really, she didn’t want to patch it over anymore. She was fed up with fixing one thing for another to bust open and leak lost love two seconds later. It was exhausting and her mind was tired, along with her heart. There wasn’t anything left, she couldn’t keep loving someone to such an extreme with nothing coming back her way. She was sure it wasn’t intentional on Ryan’s part, he always promised he wouldn’t hurt her, and she was sure he didn’t really know he was. How would he? To be fair, Molly had never told him as much. But she was sure she shouldn’t have to when the only thing that was obvious to her about their relationship nowadays was that it was wilting.

Crushing wasn’t strong enough. All though Molly did indeed feel like she’d been crushed by the heaviest weight, it also felt like someone had taken the earth from underneath her and she was falling through space at the speed of light, but with no sign of a landing spot in sight. It hurt to her core that the person she loved most in the world, that she thought she saw forever with, was making her feel that way. Molly wasn’t quite sure how to process it and so she turned to the own brand vodka from the cornershop at the end of the road (cider wouldn’t cut it), and mixed it, unproportionately, with the cheap lemonade. It wasn’t helping, she was still fighting the feeling that she wanted to cry, still trying to stitch the hole in her stomach, though she was sure eventually the vodka would kick in, she’d forget about Ryan, and she could enjoy herself.

Truthfully, she knew she didn’t have a lot of choice.

The red plastic cup in Molly’s hand was nearly dry when she caught Natalie’s eye, striding towards her from the kitchen doorway, through the crowd of people in the hallway. Her long legs seemed longer than normal clad in skin tight jeans and a pair of bright pink stilettos on her feet. It always shocked people when they found out she was studying sport psychology and coaching, Molly could see why, she walked through their kitchen looking like a real life Barbie doll, but Molly knew Natalie inside out. It didn’t surprise her at all that she was just at home screaming at her first year football team as she was strutting her her stuff in a pair of expensive stilettos.

Natalie had a happy smile on her face that Molly returned before she lifted her cup to her mouth and downed it, turning to top the cup up before Natalie reached her.

“Harry’s here.” Natalie sung, wrapping an arm tightly around Molly and cuddling close into her. Natalie was warm from the bodies she’d been surrounded by all night, and the vodka she’d been sipping on was making her giggly and cuddly. Molly adored tipsy Natalie, but it wasn’t the hug Natalie was offering that made Molly feel a little warmer. The smile didn’t feel quite so forced as she peered over Natalie’s head for the new arrival. She couldn’t spot him through everyone else crammed into the kitchen and hallway. “Got a cute friend with him too.” Natalie giggled.

“Get in there then girl.” Molly jested with a smile before taking the first sip of her new drink, though the slur in her voice, and the acrid tasting hiccup that followed suggested she didn’t need another.

“Maybe you should slow down babe.” Natalie advised with a small laugh that did nothing to hide the level of concern in her voice. Molly could hear it loud and clear, the giggle invisible compared to it.

“Nah, I’m good.” Molly assured with a wide grin, taking another sip and forcing it down without a wince for Natalie’s benefit more than her own. “Where is he then?” Molly asked peering through the crowds in the kitchen towards the front door that was half open still, letting the cold night air in. The bodies kept the place warm, and kept the need for central heating at bay. Thankfully, that was money that could be spent on unbranded alcohol and ramen as far as the flats occupants were concerned. It also meant Molly couldn’t grab a sight of Harry even when she rose to her tiptoes in attempt to see over the heads in the way.

“Hallway, Jim’s got him.” Natalie told Molly, turned away now, sorting herself a drink, pulling out the same bottles Molly had from the stash in the kitchen. People had bought their own drink, it was the done thing, but nonetheless, Molly had already seen at least five people helping themselves to the alcohol on the kitchen side meant for the housemates and closest friends. No one really minded, it was why they bought cheap, but the vodka bottle was dwindling quickly as Molly left Natalie and the kitchen behind.

Tightly packed bodies made it a squeeze through the kitchen to the hallway, but as Molly pushed passed two boys having a rather heated discussion about, what sounded like, American politics, she caught a glance of a mess of curly hair near the door. No one was going to get in her way. Molly pushed harder through people as the crowd got denser towards the front door. It was cooler, thanks to the ajar door, and it was relief to Molly’s clammy skin. Though when Harry looked from Jimmy straight at Molly, as though someone had called his name in her direction, the cool air was forgotten. The warmth that spread through her was hotter than she’d got from Natalie’s skin, it was like fire racing along her veins. Molly felt flustered and her cheeks felt pink, but in a way that made her feel light, and made her smile. In a way that stitched the hole in her stomach and put the earth back under her feet.

“Hey.” Molly smiled once she was close enough, sliding in next to Jimmy, her bare arm brushing against the shirt her was wearing, though she didn’t really notice.

“Hey birthday girl, having fun?” Harry asked, a bright grin dimpling his cheek and creasing the outside corners of his eyes. Molly nodded with a light smile back at him. “Good.” Harry practically whispered, his grin fading to something far more contented and easy. For a second it seemed like they were the only two in the hallway, eyes locked, until Harry stepped forward to wrap his arms around Molly. “Happy Birthday love.” He breathed into the hug and Molly smiled thanks before they broke apart. With his arm still around Molly’s shoulders Harry stepped out of the way to reveal the blonde haired boy that had been stood next to Harry until he moved for Molly. “This is Niall.”

“Hi nice to meet you.” Niall smiled, the Irish accent ringing loud, Molly’s knees going weak for it. She couldn’t help it, and she was fairly certain there wasn’t a woman that could. Irish charm was definitely a thing, Molly was sure.

“And you, happy birthday, thanks for inviting me.” Niall grinned. It was clear neither of them were sure whether to step forward into a welcoming hug and Harry’s introduction hadn’t quite broken the ice.

“Not a drama, come in get a drink.” Molly insisted grabbing Harry’s hand without a second thought and pulling him towards the kitchen, hoping Niall would follow. Molly squeezed back through the same path to the kitchen, Harry’s fingers intertwining in hers as they moved. “What would you like?” Molly asked once they were in the kitchen, in the corner where Molly had been stood only five minutes previous with a completely different outlook on her evening. Harry lifted a bag onto the side, pushing it in with the other drinks and pulling out bottle after bottle. Molly went to tell him that wasn’t necessary but Harry jumped in first.

“What are you drinking?” Harry asked, crunching up the bag and looking down at Molly.

“Vodka, but it’s rank, I wouldn’t recommend.” Molly sneered wobbling her cup in her hand, wishing it was empty so she could move on and away from the bad decisions that had led her to another red cup full of her terribly mixed drink.

“Well Vodka’s my poison, so I’ll take that.” Niall piped up, leaning against the counter, mirroring Harry, Molly between them.

“Here have this, I’m gonna switch anyway, I’ve only just poured it and I swear I’ve not got rabies.” Molly told him shoving her cup towards him, glad to be rid of it.

“Ok, ta.” Niall smiled taking it from her.

“So, Harry…” Molly started eyes raking the bottles on the side, waiting for him to choose his drink.

“Fuck.” Niall spluttered. Both Molly and Harry snapped their heads in the Irishman's direction, wincing as he wiped away at his mouth with the back of his hand. “No wonder you think it’s rank, have you put anything other than vodka in this?” Niall quizzed Molly holding the cup up towards her.

“Lemonade?”

“Are you sure there was any lemonade in the bottle when you poured it?” Niall jested with an amused smile. Harry laughed from behind Molly as she shrugged. “Taste it.” Niall instructed handing the cup to Harry who took it from him and lifted it to his own mouth. Harry had barely taken a sip before he was spluttering it back out, covering his mouth and cringing as he did so.

“Fucking hell Lolly, you on a mission or something?” Harry choked, putting the cup on the side, sure no one could actually finish the drink inside. It was burning down through his throat to his stomach, Harry had partaken in stronger, far stronger, but the familiar burn wasn’t as compelling as it had been.

“Comme si comme sa.” Molly shrugged turning away from both boys. “Drink?” She chirped, staring at the bottles.

“The rum for me please.” Harry told her.

“Good choice, I’ll join you, you want more lemonade in that then?” Molly asked looking up to Niall as she slid the cup along the work surface in front of her.

“Please.” Niall smiled and Molly went about sorting the drinks, pulling two new cups from the stack and pouring. It was what she did for a living but without the measures she wasn’t so sure what she was doing. It felt harder than it did in the bar to get the balance right, and the vodka, that was beginning to make her head feel a little lighter, surely wasn’t helping.

“Where’s Ryan?” Harry asked from beside Molly as she topped up the rum with coke. Molly felt herself freeze though the coke kept running, but she supposed she could do with a weaker drink so she pushed the other towards Harry before answering him.

“Oh, he couldn’t make it uni stuff.” She sung, trying to seem blase, trying to brush past it. The question was bound to be asked, Molly knew that, and she thought she’d been preparing to answer it all night long. She thought she felt steady in being able to tell people that he wasn’t there and why, but she wasn't. Her voice shook despite the light quality of it, and she felt the back of her eyes sting a little as the earth fell out from under her again.

“Really!?” Harry cried, angry disbelief decorating his voice. Molly could picture his face, crumpled up, nostrils flared, lips hanging open and a little pouty, a deep crease between his brows, but she didn’t look at him to confirm it. A look in his eyes could be the break.

“Yeah, it’s ok, he’s busy, it’s fine, no big deal.” Molly repeated out loud for the first time. She’d been replaying it in her head, but it sounded like even more of a lie in her actual voice rather than the voice in her head. It was so rehearsed and practiced that there was no life behind her words.

“Doesn’t sound fine Lol.” Harry pointed out quietly. Molly knew he was meaning well, but his friend that she’d just met was frozen still beside her, her eyes were welling up, her fingers were beginning to shake, and the kitchen wasn’t the place she wanted to even think about it, let alone talk about it.

“I said it’s fine.” She snapped as a result. She wasn’t actually mad at Harry, she didn’t even know if she was actually angry at Ryan or just disappointed, and she didn’t know what was worse. All she knew was that she just wished the feeling she got when she saw Harry could have lingered through the night and that she hadn’t had to face up to what was missing again. “Your drink.” She whispered, though not out of choice, as she handed Niall his drink.

“Thanks.” Molly didn’t look at him, but it was clear he felt like he shouldn’t have been there. Guilt lifted it’s head amongst the anger, and Molly had to blink to clear her vision as she picked up her own drink.

“I’ll be back.” Molly announced quickly, not looking up, or back, or anywhere but at the floor as she pushed out of the kitchen again and headed for her room.

The door closed behind Molly and she pushed it completely shut before the tears finally fell. Instantly it began to feel like relief. Pressure had been building up inside her skull and in her heart and finally it was pouring out in tears. There was no effort, no sobbing or wailing, just quiet tears and a few sniffles as they rolled down her face as easily as breathing came. It felt like that was the only thing she needed to do - sit on her bed, cross legged, knot her fingers together, and cry.

Crying had never felt like that before. It had felt frustrated or angry, bitter and a last resort, but in that moment it felt cleansing. It felt like she was putting something to bed that had been keeping her restless for far too long. It was like finishing a good book when the bad guy got caught and no one had to get hurt, it felt like a crackling fire at the end of a cold day, or a cool pool after a sweaty run. It felt like crying was the perfect thing to be doing.

It didn’t stop, the tears just kept falling, clouding her vision but not her mind. They rolled and rolled and she let them, sniffing back every now and again, and her breath hitching occasionally. It felt like the remedy to the hurt in her heart and the hole in her stomach.

“Lolly.” Molly heard the voice and then the knock. She had no idea how long she’d been in her room, but she was certain it wasn’t long enough for Harry so have socialised with anyone or finish the drink she’d poured.

“Come in.” Molly called, drying her face, but to no avail, more tears just spilled from her eyes to replace those she wiped from her cheeks. She kept trying though, wiping the backs of her hands over her warm cheeks, surely red, and her eyes the same, pulling at them to try and stop the tears. She could barely make Harry out through them as the door opened.

“Oh shit, Lol.” Harry cursed, quickly closing the door behind him before taking two long legged strides over to Molly. Within seconds his weight had made the bed dip and his arms were secure around Molly, pulling her close to him. Molly’s leg brushed on his and her head found a pillow on his chest, gently resting there and trying to steady her breathing to the stable beat of his heart. Where her breath had hitched it started to smooth out as Harry rested his chin against the side of her head and stroked her long flaming her down her back. “I’m sorry.” He whispered calmly. The tears were still falling out of Molly’s eyes but not quite so aggressively, not quite like she was trying to flood her room anymore.

“Why are you sorry? You haven’t done anything.” Molly chuckled, her head still home on his chest. Neither of them moved, the comfort Molly was getting from his arms and warmth and regular, steady, safe, breathing, up and down of his chest, was incomparable and Harry relaxed more as Molly settled.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you on it like that.” Harry told her, twisting one of the neat curls around his fingers and letting it fall down Molly’s back again. Harry was looking down her back at the hair he was playing with his other hand resting gently against the top of her arm, fully encircling her.

“It’s not your fault, I’ve been trying not to cry all night.” Molly admitted to which Harry sighed. He’d guessed as much when she snapped at him the way she did and walked away quickly with her head down, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. “What a fucking loser am I.” Molly tried to joke, though the way her voice shook and she nudged closer to Harry told him she believed it.

“You’re not a loser, you’re just hurt, it’s ok.” Harry told her strongly gripping her arm a little tighter as he did so. Molly shook in his arms and he knew the tears were back. A long shaky sigh left her mouth as she tried to stop it, but she couldn’t, and he wished she wouldn’t try so hard, though it conflicted with how his heart felt like it dropped to the floor at the sight of Molly folded up and blinded by tears on the end of her bed. “Shh, don’t cry, it’ll be ok.” Harry soothed rubbing small, delicate circles across her back.

“Will it?” Molly asked shyly, like a heartbroken child, not sure of anything. Harry just nodded, completely certain. “Doesn’t feel like it, feels like it’s just getting shitter.”

“It won’t always be that way.” Harry told her with an unabashed confidence that had been built over an old belief that ran closer to Molly’s current one than his affirmation that it would, indeed, get better.

“I’m so confused.” Molly squeaked, admitting it quietly. It felt easier alone in her bedroom with Harry, with the door closed behind them and no one peering in.

“What about?” Harry asked and finally Molly sat up and dried her eyes before she continued. Harry watched as she did it, scraping her palms over her eyes and cheeks, ridding the skin of the tears that had fallen and trying to dry her eyes of the ones that were yet to leak out of the corners. Normally Harry liked it when her cheeks went pink, he liked having that effect on her, but the pink of her cheeks then was blotchy and sore looking, rather than a pretty flush of coyness. He hated it. He hated that she was that sad on her birthday, or any day really, but particularly when she should have been enjoying herself with her friends without a worry in her world as she celebrated turning a year older. Harry hated that someone had hurt so much that she’d had to seclude herself in her room to cry her eyes out until they were bloodshot and glassy, and her cheeks were raw, and her breathing uneven and hitching. It made his bones flare with anger, but the need to watch over her and help her feel normal again, was stronger.

“Everything.” Molly told him at last, her word raggedy.

“Wanna talk about it?” Harry offered, but Molly shook her head and he wasn’t going to force her. Harry knew talking it out wasn’t always best, and it didn’t always help. “Ok.”

“Do you think I should end things with him?” Molly asked quietly, glancing up at Harry quickly, but dropping her eyes to her lap again just as quick.

“That’s not for me to say Lolly, that’s entirely up to you.” Harry told her. Steadily he reached for her hands, untangling them from one another and the way they were knotting together anxiously. Slowly he threaded his fingers between hers and held her hand gently. There was nothing else to it but to get her to focus on her thoughts and her feelings rather than trying to distract from them with her fingers the way he’d noticed she tended to do when she was nervous or worried. At first Molly swallowed, watching their hands lace together, but then she steadied and looked up to Harry, confidence in her eyes washing away lingering tears.

“Please Harry, I’m asking for advice.” She told him steadily. “Please.” She wasn’t begging, just voicing how much she needed an opinion, something guiding but not leading.

“You just gotta do what’s right for you, don’t think about anyone else or anyone else’s feelings, you gotta be selfish sometimes, you’ve got to do what you think is best for you and your happiness, that’s all I can say.” Harry told her, nodding slowly as he did so. Molly’s eyes were locked onto his has he spoke, taking in every word and thinking it over, Harry could tell by the way her tongue flicked against her lips and and her eyes narrowed a little occasionally. “Does he make you happy?” Harry asked, when Molly said nothing in return, just mulled his words over internally.

“Yes and no.” Molly told Harry with a shrug, eyes still secure on his. Both were searching each other, looking back at each other for answers. “No more often than yes lately.” Molly sighed, it wasn’t a secret, and if she was trying to keep it that way she was doing a bad job. Molly rolled her lips together, staring up at Harry, her hand a ball of fire where he held it, her back and arm missing his touch. They’d distanced a little when Molly sat up from Harry, but she wished they hadn’t. Maybe the vodka made her say it, she could blame it on that, and so could he, but the fact she wanted to say it outloud had been burning the tip of her tongue since they’d rested on her couch together and eaten dinner around his grandmother's table. “It doesn’t help that I fancy the fucking pants off you.” She bumbled, though didn’t drop his eyes. Her voice made her sound nervous, her presence said the opposite.

“Don’t say that.” Harry warned, a slight growl to his voice. Molly took a breath and shook her head. It wasn’t the response she was expecting or hoping for, but then she didn’t exactly know what she wanted or expected. It was just another layer of confusion in the messy cake of her emotions. “Don’t end things with Ryan because of anyone else, if you’re thinking of ending things with him, it’s got to be because of you, for you.” Harry told her definitely, shaking her hand a little as he did so, moving it towards her as if he was pointing but never uncurling his fingers from around her hand even a fraction.

“I don’t want to let anyone down.”

“Who on earth are you letting down?” Harry asked, a glimmer of frustration in his voice.

“Everyone always says-”

“Fuck everyone else Lolly, for fucks sake, stop thinking of everyone else, be selfish, be really bloody selfish and make yourself happy.” Harry argued, his voice intensifying in every way apart from volume. “What’s gonna make you happy?” He asked, with wide questioning eyes, but Molly said nothing. “Do you think you’d feel better in yourself without Ryan?”

“I don’t know.” Molly groaned, chewing her lip for a few seconds. “I’m terrified.”

“Ok fuck this, honesty time.” Harry started. “The guys a dick, he doesn’t deserve you, he doesn’t care for you the way he should, he couldn’t even drop a few uni things to be here for your birthday, he’s complacent, he’s got you so he’s just going to coast through having you because it’s easy, and I think you’re probably doing the same.” Harry told her cutting no corners and taking no prisoners. Molly knew it, and hearing it didn’t feel like a stab or a shock, just like a wake up call. “You’re comfortable and it’s easy and it’s the norm, that’s not love Lol, I hate to tell you, but it’s just not.”

“How’d you know?” Molly asked quietly.

“I just do.” Harry sighed.

“I’ve got to end it haven’t I? It’s not fair to keep stringing him along when I’m clearly not feeling it anymore.” Molly rambled though not really to anyone apart from herself. Saying it outloud felt like the final step to admitting what had been her head too long. “God that makes me feel sick.” Molly grumbled, shuddering a little. “If it was meant to be I wouldn’t even doubting it.”

“It sounds like you already know the answers darling.” Harry told her through a long outward breath, his voice hushed by it, and his hand reaching for her hair, tucking the strands, that were too close to covering her eyes for Harry’s liking, back behind her ear. Molly nodded and looked down at her lap as Harry’s hand fell away, pursing her lips to one side. “Right now, I think you should try and forget about it, have a good night, enjoy your birthday, and think about it with a clear head later.” Molly nodded again, raising her eyes, the glimmer of a smile on her face. “I promise you Lolly, whatever happens, it will be ok in the end, everything will work out for the best in the end.”

“Ok, I trust you.”

“I’m glad about that.” Harry smiled, finally uncurling his hand from hers and stretching his arms wide. “Come here.” Harry breathed wrapping his arms around her. “No more tears, not on your birthday, breaks my heart.” Harry mumbled against her hair as he held her tight again.

“Sorry.” Molly breathed, her head nestled against his chest once again, though she was more settled that time, enjoying the warmth and scent of him.

“Don’t you dare apologise for it.” Harry instructed sitting back to coax Molly to do the same. Gently his arms unwrapped from her and he lifted his hands to her face, resting his fingers under her chin and wiping her cheeks with his thumbs, flicking away tears blackend by mascara and rubbing away the stains on her skin. “Gorgeous.” Harry smiled pulling them back to the evening they’d spent in the Haunt and the the neon sign that had rested above them.

“Really?” Molly asked with a coy smile and that pretty blush on her cheeks. Harry giggled at it and nodded.

“Always.” Harry told her, swinging his legs off the bed and standing in front of her. “Come on let's go find those drinks and have a dance.” Harry suggested offering Molly a hand which she gladly took, and let him lead her from her bedroom without a care for her surely dishevelled appearance.

No one seemed to bat an eyelid when Molly and Harry left her room hand in hand. No one even seemed to have noticed they’d been gone at all, or if they did, they certainly didn’t make a point of having noticed. They squeezed back through the hallway, nudging shoulders and arms, but still no one really even looked at them, just moved politely out of the way and continued with what they were doing like nothing had happened. Even Jimmy, tucked against the door frame of the kitchen didn’t glance their way as they moved past him.

The flat was packed with people, and Molly moved to take the lead as they headed towards the living room that had been transformed into a small dance floor led by Natalie, whos blonde hair was swaying around as she danced in the middle of the fairly large group that had congregated. It was far busier than any of them had intended, and the space wasn’t really designed for the amount of people that had turned up, but they should have seen that coming. They’d all been along to enough house parties they weren’t directly invited to, but had heard about through the grapevine, to know how it worked. Molly probably knew sixty percent of the people in her flat by name, but she would only say she actually knew thirty percent. It didn’t stop her pushing through the outskirts of the people dancing though to join Lauren and Natalie in the middle of the room, Harry’s hand still locked in hers.

It was as she turned back to him and looked up as he looked down at her, that she realised they’d never really been so close in front of others. Their toes were practically touching, though not necessarily through choice. Everyone around them was squeezed tight and it forced them close, not that they really minded, but at least they had an excuse for the fact they could feel each others breath on their skin. Two nights a week, Molly moved her feet to a beat for a living as she poured all sorts of drinks for all sorts of patrons, but stood in her living room, hand in Harry’s, she was lost for movement and words. Instead she just giggled and felt her cheeks blush, Harry smiled and shook his head, before he lifted her hand and encouraged her to spin under his arm. It was cliche and clumsy but it broke ice Molly hadn’t anticipated being there and she seemed to come unstuck after that.

At some point her hand fell out of Harry’s, and Molly fought the urge to take it back. They didn’t move apart though, just carried on dancing to the cheesy pop music that was blaring around the flat. Natalie was at her side, Lauren having abandoned them for some lad that she was now talking to in the corner by the TV, holding her straw in her fingers coquettishly and no doubt looking up at him through her thick lashes. A couple of girls had taken to kicking their shoes off and hopping up on the table, laughter chorusing as they did so. Alcohol was flowing, but nobody seemed to be flagging yet, in fact everyone was free spirited and light with it. Even Molly felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders as she unlaced her shoes and kicked them to the corner of the room, not caring for how long they might make her legs look any longer, the comfort of her feet was far more important.

“You’ll get trodden on.” Harry called loudly over the music, leaning closer to her ear as he did so, holding her forearms. Molly chucked and shrugged. “Stand on my feet.” Harry told her pulling her closer by arms.

“What?” Molly shouted, laughing as she did so, because she’d heard him perfectly, but what she’d heard was completely ridiculous so maybe she hadn’t.

“Stand on my feet.” Harry said louder, pulling her closer again. Molly shook her head, but Harry nodded, and again tugged her a little closer. Finally Molly gave in and carefully stepped up onto the brown boots Harry was wearing. She laughed as she did so and his arms moved around her waist to hold her in place. Harry has a proud smile on his face, his idea proving successful as Molly wrapped her arms around his neck and interlaced her fingers over his hair, a few curls tangling between them. Steadily Harry began to move again, his feet stamping heavily onto the floor, his movements clumsy and awkward. Molly was laughing wildly her head thrown back as he tried to dance with the weight of them both.

“This is mad.” Molly laughed, leaning closer to speak into his ear.

“Saves your feet though.” Harry chuckled, holding her tighter. Molly shook her head a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. They continued to dance like that for the rest of the song, but as it drew to a close Molly couldn’t put Harry’s feet through it anymore and stepped off.

“I’m going to get a drink, do you want one?” Molly offered, but Harry shook his head.

“I’m good, just saw Jim go outside so might go chat with him for a bit if you don’t mind.” Harry told her with a smile.

“Why would I mind?” Molly laughed, Harry shrugging a little. “You’re daft, you can talk to whoever, you don’t have to babysit me all night, I’ll be fine on my own.” Molly laughed, seemingly Harry had forgotten she was surrounded by people she knew, it was him who was the stranger here. Harry nodded and they went their separate ways.

The kitchen was emptier that it had been, as were the bottles on the side. The neat stack Lauren and Molly had arranged wasn’t so neat anymore, empty bottles among half full one's, cups littered across the place, and a clear puddle of something brown and sticky on the side. Molly pulled a fresh cup from the stack that she was hoping were as unused as they looked, a pack of cigarettes under the fruit bowl caught her eye and suddenly there was an urge. A drink followed by a cigarette outside with Jimmy was her new plan, and it sounded like a good one as she began to pour the rum into the bottom of her cup.

“You having a good night?” The voice was instantly recognisable by the accent. There were enough people in her flat that Molly didn’t know that if the Irish lilt hadn’t rung so loud and clear, she’d have doubted her certainty, but if anything Niall’s accent seemed stronger than it had when they’d first been introduced. The words seemed to blend into one another, and Molly was sure the vodka he was still drinking wasn’t helping that.

“Oh hi, yeah, are you? Are people being nice?” Molly asked with a genuinely friendly smile on her face as her hands worked at screwing the cap back onto the bottle of dark brown rum.

“Yeah everyone’s sound.” Niall grinned reaching for the vodka bottle that was dwindling quickly.

“So how do you know Harry?” Molly asked, turning to lean against the kitchen counter, plastic cup topped up with rum and coke in hand, and looking at Niall as he watched the lemonade fizz and fill his cup over the vodka he’d already poured.

“We play rugby together.” Niall told her nonchalantly.

“Ah.” Molly nodded, looking out into the crowd for Harry before remembering he’d gone to find Jimmy outside. Suddenly her plan of a cigarette break was even more compelling. “It wasn’t you that damaged his hand was it?” Molly asked with sarcastically narrowed eyes. Niall quickly shook his head, turning sharply to Molly.

“No, I wasn’t there when he did that, nothing to do with me.” Niall assured forcefully. Molly giggled at how much Niall clearly wanted Molly to know it wasn’t him. The Adam's apple in Niall’s throat bobbed as Molly giggled before he turned back to his drink. “You having a good time?” Niall asked, moving the conversation on.

“Yeah.” Molly breathed loudly with a smile, the music shadowing over her voice easily. “It’s pretty noisy in here, I’m gonna grab a smoke, wanna join me?” Molly offered dyeing the packet of cigarettes that had been on her mind before Niall had interrupted her with small talk.

“I don’t smoke.” Niall told her definitely, lifting his cup to his mouth, but peering over the rim at her.

“Neither do I.” Molly told him, stepping across Niall to grab the packet hiding under the bowl filled with fruit that really needed throwing away. Molly flicked the top off the packet and took a single cigarette from it, the stick leaning across her fingers as she chucked the packet back. “Coming?”

“Are they yours?” Niall asked, curiosity drowning his face.

“Jimmy’s, he won’t mind. It’s only one, cause I’ve been drinking, can’t help myself, it’s terrible I know, you don’t need to tell me.” Molly rambled rolling her eyes, the cigarette tapping between her fingers against thin air.

“Doesn’t worry me, you’re old enough to make your own mistakes.” Niall scoffed.

“Plenty of them.” Molly jeered with a smirk before leading their way out of the side door, the one Harry had fixed a few weeks ago.

The small garden at the side of the flat was rarely used and even more rarely looked after. It was a small rectangle of grass that meant they paid more than any other flat for the privilege of what was more of a dirt patch dotted with the odd clump of grass. It was home to a small wooden table that was mostly rotten and couldn’t be trusted to hold anything other than the lighter Jimmy continually forgot to bring in. When they’d looked at the flat, they’d revelled at the idea of a garden - garden parties, barbeques, somewhere for Jimmy to smoke that wasn’t the front porch or hanging out of a window. It only lived up to one of those expectations, and the lack of BBQ or grass was a tell tale sign as to which.

“Harry told me things are a bit rocky with you and your fella.” Niall started, watching Molly as she hung the cigarette from her mouth and flicked the lighter, taken from the table, over the end of it. Molly took a long drag, exhaling the smoke away from Niall’s face, out into the garden.

“Understatement of the century.” Molly told him, flicking ash from the cigarette and watching it drop to the floor sparking a little before dying and blowing away in the breeze.

“Not good then?” Niall winced sympathetically, but Molly just shrugged. As she looked up at Niall, her bare feet cold on the ground, Molly wondered how much Harry had told him. It looked like he knew a little more than he was initially letting on, the sympathetic look in his eyes and the way his lips were slightly pursed gave the impression he knew things were more than ‘a bit rocky’. Part of Molly wanted to divulge it all, outside perspective might be helpful, but a bigger, louder part of her, wanted Niall to be the complete stranger he was, not just to her, but to her relationship and the problems she was having with it. She wanted him to know nothing, she wanted him to be ignorant to Ryan and her feelings towards him, she wanted to be as much of a stranger to him and he was to her, and she didn’t want him to look at her like she was damaged property. He could be an escape if only he wasn’t looking at her like he knew all her secrets.

“Would help if Harry stopped bringing good looking guys into my life.” Molly smiled, verging away from Ryan swiftly. There was no conversation to be had anymore, she’d had it, done it, and frankly she was bored of going over the same thing again and again when she’d known the answer before she even asked the questions.

“Exactly how many good looking guys as Harry introduced you to?” Niall asked with a dark chuckle that sounded like it came right from the pit of him.

“Just you actually.” Molly toyed, a flirty smile on her face, small and full lipped, slightly one side and eyes doey. Molly knew what she was doing, sure it had been four years, but it turned out it was like riding a bike. “You’re blushing.” She pointed out, flicking her eyebrows to the sky a little and smiling wider.

“So are you.” Niall pointed out with that same deep laugh. It was deep and throaty, rough around the edges. Tempting. “I thought you fancied Harry.” Niall told her, lifting his cup but watching her face all the time. The subtle change in Molly’s features told Niall everything he needed to know, Molly didn’t need to say a word. There was far more to it than Niall had anticipated.

“Niall, I have a boyfriend.” Molly laughed, it was nearly flirty, but closer to nervous at being so easily exposed.

“Yet you’re still flirting with me.” Niall reminded her, lifting one eyebrow. Molly couldn’t help but notice how that motion didn’t seem to come as easily to him as it did Harry.

“It’s only flirting, don’t worry about it.” Molly told Niall taking another drag on her cigarette, the length dwindling, nearly finished, mostly forgotten as she spoke with Niall. “I’m gonna end things with Ryan anyway.” Molly told him with a confidence she mustered from the penultimate drag and held onto with the final one, breathing it in deeper than she ever had before as she dropped the dead cigarette to the floor. For a second she thought about stamping it out, Niall obviously saw though and held her back gently.

“Yeah?” He asked nonchalantly, twisting his booted foot over the hot stub.

“Yeah.” Molly said nodding, still looking at the squashed end of her cigarette as she did so.

“Good for you.” The smile that was in Niall’s voice was still on his face when Molly looked up. The sympathy and concern was gone, and at last he looked like the stranger Molly was craving. There was a sparkle in his eyes, Irish charm, and a smirk of a smile lingering over his mouth. Molly lifted one side of her mouth, staring back at Niall without apology. Before she really even registered the thought, before it was even a thought and more just an impulse sparking in her veins, Molly moved onto her toes and lifted her hand to Niall’s neck.

Her lips had only pressed against one other set in four years, at least in that way, but they pressed into Niall’s as easily and comfortably as any. They felt fine under hers, there was no guilt or sickening feeling, it just felt like a kiss. It didn’t spark anything, there were no butterflies, just a kiss that tasted like vodka and lemonade. It felt like a stupid, drunken, thoughtless, careless kiss. The kind her flatmates had been having since freshers. The kind she didn’t think she’d been missing out on because she had Ryan’s kisses. It was what she needed and it confirmed everything. The lack of guilt made her feel guilty, and the look on Niall’s face as she stepped back down and realised what she’d done, and who she’d kissed in front of a garden full of strangers and friends, made her want to cry.

“Fuck, shit, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that, I’m so sorry, I’m gonna, fuck, I’m sorry, shit.” Molly rambled, covering her mouth, looking between Niall and the door and backing away quickly. Molly rushed back through the kitchen, not caring for who she bumped or crashed into as she went. There was a nauseous feeling inside her as she marched through the house, she was glad the bathroom was unlocked and unoccupied, swinging the door open and kicking closed as best she could as she lunged for the toilet, gripping the sides as her stomach emptied and she fell to her knees.

The door opened behind her, but Molly didn’t even care to look at who it was, though there was someone in her mind that she hoped it was. Liquid was pouring from her mouth, wretching until her throat was sore and her stomach ached. Molly felt her hair pull back from around her, a small, delicate hand rubbing her back gently, though no words, she didn’t need them, she knew it wasn’t who she wanted. Finally Molly took a breath and sat up, reaching for the flush and sitting back on her feet.

“Molly what the fuck?” Natalie scalded, moving to sit next to Molly and look at her.

“I don’t fucking know.” Molly cried, the tears in her eyes not only from how violently she’d thrown up. She scraped her hair back away from her face vigorously, her brow damp from sweat. “Did Harry see?” Molly asked.

“Harry? Why are you worried about Harry? You’ve got a boyfriend Mol.” Natalie reminded her, but it didn’t quite register, or if it did, what it meant didn’t.

“Did Harry see me kiss him?” Molly pushed.

“Yes.” Natalie snapped.

“Shit.”

“Molly, Ryan.” Natalie reminded her, shaking her hands at Molly, wide eyed and so obviously confused and at a loss for what to say or think.

“It’s over.” Molly mumbled.

“You’ve ended it?” Natalie asked, a little quieter, because maybe then it was all ok, maybe then it was all understandable.

“Not yet.” But it didn’t feel like she’d cheated him.

____________________________________

GO OFF! My ask box is ready and open for all of you. You all wondered what she was going to do about realising she’d fallen out of love with Ryan, bet you weren’t thinking it was going to be that!?!?

Hope you enjoyed it though? What are we thinking is going to happen next with her and Ryan and Harry....Let me know!

Enjoy I x

#dive #new fic #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles au #rugby harry #harry angsty #harry fluff #1dff

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the-comfy-wildkratt · 6 years

Photo

Deertaur Chris from my Chimera AU (aka CPS Malfunction B). Featuring: the first time he shed his antlers and temporarily forgot that antlers shed every year. (Written part below the cut!)

Fun fact number one: While he has his antlers (aka most of the year) Chris has to wear shirts that zip or button up, or else stretchy wife-beater tanktops, because trying to put on a normal shirt is virtually impossible with those antlers. When he can get away with it, though, he just doesn’t wear a shirt at all

Fun fact number two: I have no idea where this little cutesy style came from, but I love it

Being part deer made Chris much more aware of a lot of deer biology and behavior than he had been before, but at times he also completely forgot about some traits, such as when his antlers shed for the first time.

From an outside perspective, as Jimmy had, it was both an amusing and somewhat worrisome series of noises from the other room. Silence, a sudden noise of alarm, the clattering of both hooves and something bony-sounding, and then a loud, muffled thump. All of which was shortly followed up with a startled cry of, "my antler!"

Frowning, Jimmy got up out of his chair and walked to the door, which slid open automatically at his approach. Chris was standing on the other side, looking surprised and holding one of his antlers in his hand, his head tilted slightly with the unexpected weight difference that came with now having only a left antler.

"What just happened?" Jimmy asked.

Chris looked a little embarrassed. "I just shed an antler. I...I kind of forgot that happens."

Jimmy blinked. "So what was all that screaming?"

"I didn't scream!" Chris protested, "I was just startled. I was putting on my shirt and it got stuck so I tugged on it. I guess I tugged a little too hard and this thing was ready to go because it just popped off and it surprised me. I mean, it fell and poked me all over the arm as it went."

"And that big thump?"

Chris's ears twitched in embarrassment. "I, uh, I jumped backwards and ran into the wall."

Jimmy couldn't help but start laughing at that, and Chris frowned for a second before joining in lightheartedly. "You just forgot?" Jimmy chuckled.

"I don't know how! It's the middle of winter, I should have been expecting it."

Shaking his head, Jimmy peered up at Chris's remaining antler. "So are you going to just pull that one off then?"

Chris reached up and gripped it, giving a little jiggle. He pushed his lips out in a thoughtful pout. "I guess not. Now I can tell that it's loose, but I'll just have to wait for a bit." Shrugging, he walked past Jimmy and into the main room, suddenly sighing. "Oh great, now Martin's gonna' come back and laugh at me for having a lopsided rack."

"I can see why," Jimmy teased, and Chris gave him a halfhearted glare. "I do wish they both stuck around till Christmas, though," he continued, "I was looking forward to putting tinsel and ornaments on your antlers."

Chris blinked. "Seriously?"

"100%. Koki and Aviva had a whole plan to ambush and decorate you and everything."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Of course they did. Well, they can just settle for decorating my antlers without them being attached to me."

At that moment, Koki walked into the room and looked over, catching sight of Chris and Jimmy. For a second she didn't realize, looking away again, towards her console, then she did a double take, eyes widening a little. Chris grinned wryly and held up his shed antler.

"What happened?" she demanded, looking a little worried as she hurried over.

"It looks like it's time for my antlers to shed," he explained.

Koki just looked at him blankly for a second, then smacked her forehead. "I completely forgot about that."

"So did he," Jimmy told her, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at Chris with a grin. "He scared himself." Being part deer meant that Chris spooked more easily now, but scaring himself was something the crew never failed to find amusing, especially if it happened where they could witness it in any way.

Koki grinned a little. "Sorry I missed that," she said, ignoring Chris's snort of annoyance. She reached out and gently touched the tip of one of the spikes. "Is your other one just going to fall off too?"

"Supposedly. It's loose right now but doesn't want to just yet, it seems."

She stretched up on her tiptoes and tapped his antler with a knuckle. "Looks like it. You'd better not let Martin pressure you into weird schemes to try and get it off, Lefty."

Chris gave her a bland look for the nickname. "I don't plan on it."

Jimmy wandered back to his programming and Chris went back into the tiny room where he and Martin stored their stuff and sometimes slept to get a zip-up hoodie; it was a bit chilly in the Tortuga, and as usual, his favorite pullover was unusable due to having antlers that wanted to get stuck in absolutely everything.

"We're back!" Martin's loud call was accompanied by the squeak of claws extended at the last second as an emergency brake, and Koki's indignant yell followed immediately after.

"Stop scratching up my Tortuga!"

"Sorry. We've got groceries!"

Chris trotted back out into the main room, setting his shed antler onto the center console almost absentmindedly as he hurried down to the garage to help. Aviva was kicking the Createrra's tailgate back up, holding the last two bags in her hands, and she gave Chris a smile of greeting as she handed them to him.

"Would you mind grabbed those two over...." She trailed off a second later with a confused expression, registering that something was different but not sure what. A moment later she realized and exclaimed, "Hey!"

Chris jerked his head in her direction, and immediately regretted it as his whole head overbalanced and a sharp twinge of pain shot down his neck. "Owww! What's wrong 'Vivs?"

"What happened to your right antler?" she demanded, pointing.

Rubbing his still throbbing neck, Chris gingerly shook his head. "It popped off. It's about time for them to shed, anyway."

"Oh," she said, looking a bit relieved. "I...I forgot that."

"Apparently so did the rest of us," Chris chuckled ruefully. He bent to pick up the grocery bags again and together they trooped up the stairs to the main room.

Martin was rifling through the groceries with Jimmy, chattering about the purchases they'd made, and he looked up and gave Chris a small wave, but looked away again immediately. Chris exchanged amused looks with Koki and Aviva. Martin kept shuffling through bags until he suddenly happened across the antler that Chris had left lying on the console.

"Hey, where'd this come from?" Martin asked to the room, picking it up and turning it over in his hands. "Hey, Chris, this looks a lot like," he looked up at his brother, trailing off as he finally realized, "...yours...."

"It's that time of the year, bro," Chris joked with a shrug, then winced as his neck twinged again.

Martin's tail curled up over his back as an evil big-brother grin suddenly exposed all his teeth. "Well, well, well," he said, and Chris gave him a wary look, "I kinda' forgot about the fact that you shed your antlers. But you know what this means?"

"I can wear real shirts again?" Chris guessed halfheartedly.

Setting the antler down, Martin prowled around the table, trying to act casual, but Chris knew a predator when he saw one, so he started sidestepping too, keeping an eye on the exits. "This means," Martin said, "you can't hold me at bay with that thornbush on your head anymore."

"Oh."

With a sudden clatter of hooves, Chris bolted for the door, his tail springing up like a flag as his hindquarters disappeared around the bend in the stairs. Martin was in pursuit, laughing delightedly. Jimmy, Koki, and Aviva watched the brothers go and then exchanged wry looks.

Chris lost his left antler three days and half a dozen play fights later, but surprisingly enough it wasn't due to roughhousing. Instead, it popped off without warning while he was walking across the main room. He was heading towards the showers, running his fingers through his slightly sweaty, post-adventure hair, and the antler just...fell off.

It fell off backwards, raking across his flank, and that was enough to set Chris off. The entire crew was around to witness this time, and all of them looked up as Chris gave a muffled squeal and lunged halfway across the room, his hooves skittering madly on the smooth floor. Martin immediately burst into raucous laughter. Chris's tail had gone up too, standing at an almost perfect right angle to his back.

While the crew laughed until they were red in the face, Chris stood by the door, hand on his heart like an old church grandma, trying to settle his high-strung nerves.

"That's pretty much how it happened the first time," Jimmy said between chuckles.

"No it wasn't," Chris tried to protest, but they just waved him away and he rolled his eyes before going down to shower.

Thirty minutes later, he trotted back into the main room, and Aviva actually did a double take. It'd been a long time since she'd seen him looking so...normal. He hadn't been able to wear his favorite olive green pullover due to his antlers. His large ears and half-deer body weren't 'normal' by any means, but if he just didn't have the ears, Aviva was sure she'd be convinced that he was fully human again, just so long as he stayed seated.

Chris was tired after a long day of adventuring and having his heart rate suddenly elevated, so he just walked over to his brother and flopped down next to him on the 'chimera couch,' as Jimmy had dubbed it.

"Perk number one," Chris announced, "I can wear normal shirts again. Perk number two, I can actually use Martin as a pillow again and not have him complain about me poking him." And so saying, he tucked in his legs and rolled over on his side, resting his head on Martin's withers with a smug expression.

Martin rolled his eyes fondly. "Okay, that is a perk."

"Yeah, too bad your horns don't shed, because you are not using me as a pillow with those two bony lumps on your head."

"Okay, fair enough, I'll let you use me as a pillow because I'm going to take full advantage of the fact that you can't poke me with your antlers in any other circumstance either."

Chris sighed in mock resignation and closed his eyes.

Koki smiled at the brotherly moment and then went back to the task she'd immediately taken up one Chris had left his antler on the floor. She rested her hands on her hips for a moment, regarding it, then got back to work again, busily mounting the set of shed antlers on a wooden plaque. One day Aviva was going to find a way to return the brothers to normal, so it would be nice to have a little memento for this misadventure.

#Wild Kratts #WK #Chris Kratt #comfy draws #comfy writes #traditional art #I did part of a page of Martin doodles in class today in an attempt to stay awake #so hopefully I'll ink those in soon #Also still working on Nature Spirits! I want to post about it sometime soon!#CPS Malfunction AU #CPSMAUB #(weird tag but whatever)#Part A just features Martin with a different malfunction design

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trekkele · 6 years

Text

All Along the Watchtower

She didn’t acknowledge him when he came in. It would be strange, since she was working through several reports, and she knew he’d just shuffle awkwardly around the conversation. Better to let him quietly make a coffee and sit in the officers mess, mutually ignoring the each other.

It's not like she needed to ask him for details. Everyone knew what happened. Or, everyone knew what had officially happened, and what had unofficially happened, and what could not possibly be what happened. He had almost died of radiation poisoning, and only the rapid action and frankly dubious science of his CMO and Science Officer had saved his life.

(The rumors about super-blood were ridiculous. And insulting. They were members of StarFleet, how could they possibly believe such awful, baseless science. It was impossible. And ridiculous. She absolutely didn’t read every report looking for more information.)

She kept an eye on him though, curious how someone who should be dead likes his coffee. Apparently, with honey and cream. How mundane.

“Morning Jim”

She’d noticed the Admiral come in of course. She noticed everyone who came into the mess at this hour. Was it morning already...oh. Yes, well, it was definitely closer to morning now.

“Holy...give a man a little warning, Chris!”

Captain Kirk whirled around to face Admiral Pike,

spilling his coffee across the counter top. “Sneaking up on people is a bad idea at the best of times. “

Pike watched him mop up the spilled coffee and start the machine again. One of the officers perks was an old fashioned coffee machine, with real coffee. Even she could admit that replicators simply didn't match up.

“James -"

"Don't call me that"

"- right, Jim, we need to talk. “

Mixing sugar and milk into his new cup of coffee, he handed to Pike before turning back to the machine.

“About what? The fact that I thought you were dead for 15 days? Or that I actually was dead for 14 days? Or maybe about the massive cluster-fuck that is both our careers right now?” Pike watched Kirk make his own cup of coffee, politely ignoring the slight tremors in his hands that made the creamer pour out in irregularly stream, splashing against the walls of the StarFleet (standard issue) mug.

“You know, the only other person I’ve seen use honey in their coffee is Lieutenant Commander Sato. “

“Hmm..?,” Kirk smiled over the edge of his cup. “Oh, yeah. She kind of messed me up with that one. Coffee doesn’t taste the same with sugar, and do you have any idea how hard it is to replicate proper tasting honey?” They had moved while talking, sitting down at one of the small tables by the bay windows.

It was awkward, past the small talk, the way they didn't know how to start, staring at their cups, at the windows, never at each other. Pike seemed to start saying something, shook his head stayed silent. Kirk, for his part, stared out the window and cradled his cup like it was a lifeline.

“We lost 30 people,” the rasping voice was so unsuited to the normally bright young captain that she almost turned around to see if someone else had managed to sneak in. He swallowed, “We lost 30 people, and it could have been more, would have been more, except he tipped his hand too early, and we got lucky and everyone was prepared. I...how can we do this?” His voice rose slightly, right hand letting go of its mug shaped anchor to wave around erratically (dramatically, she thought, but maybe he was justified in some dramatics)

“And they’re just...giving it back. They should have my fucking commission for this and they’re just giving me the Enterprise, giving me the same thing I almost destroyed, as if...as if I didn’t just ... How can we do this Chris?” He finished on a whisper, the words seeming to drain out of him, hanging between the two men.

“Why didn't you kill him?”

“What?”

“Harrison. You had orders to kill him. Even if you didn’t fire at Q'onos, even if you didn’t use the torpedoes, you could have killed him. You didn’t. Why?” Pike leaned back in his seat, obviously satisfied at the confusion on Kirk's face.

“Go on Kirk, report. “

Almost subconsciously, it seemed, Kirk straightened up and began speaking, tapping his fingers on the table

“Spock advised against it initially. He didn't trust - he found the orders strange. StarFleet never gives a kill on sight order, and here we were, told to bring him back in a body bag. But... I was angry. I was so, so angry, Chris. I mean, it’s been a fair amount of time since...

I thought I had forgotten how that kind of rage feels. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to watch him die. But Spock was right, and something just felt ..off. I know what you’re trying to do,” he interrupts himself, pointing at Pike as if he was accusing him, “But you need to understand, I would have. I would have killed him if Spock hadn’t kept pushing back, if Bones hadn’t kept pointing out how strange these orders felt. “

“Here's the thing, Jim, " Pike puts his hands together, the way some people pray. She wonders if this conversation is a kind of prayer too, between two men so desperate to stop playing gods.

"You wanted to kill him, but you didn’t. You say it’s because of Spock. Because of Bones. Because of the people you deliberately chose to surround yourself with. But Spock's just the first officer. Bones is just the CMO. Technically, the orders you were given came from an Admiral. A crooked one, yeah, but you didn’t know that at the time. Had you killed him, and yes, you could have killed him, it would have been, to borrow a phrase, logical. After all, Starfleet gave the order, seemed to have tried and sentenced him without you.

And yet you chose to listen, because as angry as you were, you knew, more than you knew you wanted vengeance, that something was wrong. And than you decided to actually speak to him, to give the accused a voice. To try, on some level, to understand him. Because more than you wanted vengeance, and I don't deny that you did, you wanted justice. And you were willing to sacrifice one for the other. That's what’s important here. “

Kirk's elbows were on the table, hands buried in his hair. His whole posture screamed “maybe you’re right, but I still don't agree.”

Pike sighed, leaning forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. “The truth is kid, we knew something was coming. StarFleet doesn't get that rotten without someones sniffing it out first. We knew someone was taking an interest in you, in your missions, in how you responded to orders. The reports you sent in. How far you pushed the walls. We didn’t know who, but me and Archer noticed it a while back and realized someone was going to try and use you, use your reputation and try and manipulate the situation around you. Initially we thought they'd try and take you out, as an example. But based on the information we were getting, they needed you in the captain's chair for something. " Pike sighed, sliding his mug between his palms.

"Honestly, the Nibiru situation gave us the perfect opportunity to get you out. We figured the best way to keep them off your back was to have you fall from grace. And Jim, I apologize, but we really thought.. we really thought it was for the best. That the chair was too much for you. And if you weren’t StarFleet's golden boy, maybe you'd be safe, maybe you’d have the time to grow into it like we thought you would.

But we played right into his hands. Unbalanced you, made you second guess yourself, and than Marcus - he manipulated both of us. Not telling you I survived was his ace in the hole. But he underestimated you Jim. I think - we all did.”

“You were dead. You were dead, and all I could think about was how disappointed you were with me when... “ Kirk stared out over Pikes shoulder, Pike struggling to say something, anything.

“We would have had to watch them die. You asked me what I was thinking. That’s - that's what I was thinking. When the Volcano erupted, most of the population would die, not instantly, burnt alive by the lava as it covered their settlements. And we would have to stay, in orbit, unable to do anything, as the rest of them suffocated on the ashes. And all I could think about, was how we would have stayed, and meticulously recorded every minute, and how many genocides can one man witness, Chris?“ he turned blue eyes suddenly far too large for his face to Admiral Pike. “How many times can I watch people die, doing nothing?

And the worst of it was, the what if. What if someone survived? What if they survived, and rebuilt, and what if, centuries from now, millennium from now, they join us in the stars, and they find our records. Meticulous, detailed, records. The first time StarFleet visited their planet. And they see that we did nothing. How could we face them than? What would we say? “I’m sorry, but we never thought history would care?” You know I can't... I couldn’t do nothing.

I couldn't let an entire civilization die because we think we know what's right. You asked me, before this whole thing started, why I think I can play god. But the thing is Chris, the thing is, in all the stories, all the things I've seen, only gods think they get to decide who deserves their help. Only gods get to let people die. And I've found that people? people are the ones who try and save everyone. People are the ones who help even the ones who don't know yet how to ask."

Kirk was almost whispering, almost singing the ideas into his half-empty mug.

"Maybe the prime directive is just people, trying to pretend they aren't playing god, choosing who lives, who dies, who deserves our help. Maybe the Prime Directive is to boldly go, seeking out new life forms, preserving new life, even the ones who don't know how to ask, but need our help. Maybe, Chris, maybe I was wrong. But if I saved one life. Just one. I think I can live with being wrong ”

Even from where she was sitting, she knew Pike was smiling.

“I’ve never heard it said like that Jimmy, but you’re not - you’re not wrong. Sometimes not being able to ask for help just means you need it more,” he sipped his coffee, staring at Kirk, staring at his hands.

“But here's the thing Jim. They are giving you the Enterprise. They are giving you a commendation, and the fucking medal that goes with it. And I’m alive, despite reports otherwise. And you’re alive, despite your best efforts- "

"hey!"

" - quiet brat I’m being poetic. So the best you can do, is learn from your mistakes. Plan a better exit next time, build a better warp core, and always listen when your officers speak. Always get officers you’ll listen too, even when they disagree. Especially than. And sometimes all we can do is hope we crash in the water and not on the shore. And sometimes, one life..yeah, sometimes saving even one life is what makes it worth it “

Kirk snorts into his coffee, smirking up at Pikes dramatic hand waving.

“You are getting poetic in your old age sir”

She gathered up her pads as the soft almost-sunlight and pleasant bickering followed her out of the mess. Captain Burnham smiled, sure that despite it all, StarFleet, and Captain Kirk, would do just fine.

——————

Notes:

I swear this wasn’t supposed to exist. Like, wow, this was supposed to be a short “How Pike is Alive!” headcanon, but it turned into “The Prime Directive is Made to Broken, Here's Why.” But, I really like it so {throws it into the blue void} have my poetic stuffs.

Also, Name Dropping cause I can.

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randomlittleimp · 6 years

Text

Convergence pt1

Fandom: Star Trek

Ship: McKirk

Rating: Mature

Warnings: childhood trauma, deadly accidents, bullying, homophobia, genocide, starvation, homosexuality, divorce

Tagging: @auduna-druitt @pinkamour1588 @captainsbabysitter-blog @thefanficfaerie

Description: AU where Leonard meets Jim as children and their lives converge at different years as they grow up.

“Why do we have to go to Iowa? That’s like a million miles away from Nana.” a six year old Leonard whined from the back seat of the station wagon his father was driving through yet another corn field. Leonard wondered if anyone actually lived here or if it was just the scarecrows.

His father laughed a little, “I told you already buddy, Starfleet needs me to consult on the Medbay design for the new starships. It’s a great honor that they think so highly of my skills. It’s only for a couple years though, then we will head back to Georgia, I promise.”

Leonard crossed his arms, putting on the best sulk he could, but even he had to admit it was pretty cool they called his dad of all people to help with this. “Well, of course they called you, you're awesome.” Leonard sat quietly in the back seat for a few minutes until a thought occurred to him, he excitedly turned to his dad, “Do you think they'd take us up in one of those ships, you know like for a spin around the moon or something?”

“Leonard, they're still building the ships, they are not ready to fly anywhere yet, but maybe we can get a ride in one of the shuttles sometime.” His father smiles at him in the rear view mirror.

Suddenly forgetting he was sulking Leonard began bouncing in his seat, “Yea! That sounds so cool!”

The rest of the car ride was quiet as Leonard watched the world go past. Soon they were pulling up the dirt drive to an old farmhouse. The moving truck had beat them there, but luckily their Starfleet liaison was waiting for them and the unloading was already underway. Leonard jumped from the backseat as soon as the car had come to a stop and ran into the house, ducking inbetween boxes and furniture wrapped in plastic and up the stairs to find his new room.

His dad had already told him about the house and the room he had chosen for Leonard. It was in the front of the building with the turret in the corner. His father had told him all about the round window seat that he could look out onto the front yard from on a cushioned bench seat. “It will be perfect for reading.” his father had promised. What he had failed to mention was that the room was a soft shade of pink with a floral patterned wallpaper border just under the crown molding. Leonard could only stare in horror at the offending roses that circled the room.

When his father finally joined him upstairs he almost threw a fit about it, but his father had taken one look at it and knelt beside his son placing his hands on his small shoulders. “Sorry buddy, I was hoping they would paint it white or something before we moved in. Just remember it’s only for a couple of years, and did you see the window seat?”

Leonard stepped into the room and headed for the window seat. It was a large cushioned bench seat just like his father had said, and the view out the bay of windows was beautiful. “And look, there is a hidden compartment under the seat. You can keep your treasures there.” His father lifts the seat to show the open area below.

“Cool!” Leonard was getting excited again. Perhaps if he hung enough posters on the walls it wouldn’t seem so pink.

The first day at his new school had Leonard feeling a bit nervous. Back home in Georgia he knew every kid in his class from the time they could all walk. He had grown up with them and gone to Preschool and Kindergarten together. Here though he felt alone, he didn’t know anyone and had never really needed to learn how to make friends. The morning had been without incident so far, his father had brought him into the school and the Principal had walked him to the first grade class.

His new teacher, Mrs. Walker, seemed nice enough, and the other kids were all smiles when they greeted him. Now though, it was recess and there were many more children on the playground. Children from the other classrooms ignored him for the most part, but there was one kid who made a beeline for him as soon as the teachers had their backs turned. He was a ruddy faced boy, tall for his age, flanked by a couple other beady eyed boys. “Hey look it’s the new kid. What’s your name new kid?”

Trying to make a good impression Leonard held out his hand to shake, “I’m Leonard McCoy, what’s your name?”

“Leonard!” the boy laughed, “That’s an old man name. Are you an old man?” Leonard dropped his hand, knowing these boys were not going to be his friend. He turned to walk away from them and head towards the swings, but the tall boy grabbed his arm tightly, pulling him backwards and making him fall. “I wasn’t done talking to you old man!”

“Leave him alone Paul!” Suddenly there was a blond boy standing between Leonard and the bully named Paul. He was smaller then them, Leonard thought he had seen him come out with the Kindergarten class.

“Get out of the way Kirk!” Paul yelled at the blond and tried to push him down, but the younger boy was quick and dodge him causing Paul to lose his balance and stumble forward. Although he would never admit to doing it, Leonard stuck out his foot just in time to trip Paul and he went down, face first into the dirt.

Leonard stood then and went to stand next to the blond boy in case they tried anything more, but by then the teachers had seen what was going on and rushed over. Paul put on a good crying act trying to claim Leonard had started it and but the teachers paid him no mind. They were used to his antics already. Leonard turned to the younger boy and saw he had some of the bluest eyes he had ever seen in his life, it was as if they were lit from the inside. “Thank you. I’m Leonard, what’s your name?”

The other boy grabbed his hand and gave it a fast shake, “I’m Jimmy, nice to meet you. You wanna be friends?”

Leonard laughed as Jimmy kept shaking his hand, “Yeah sure as long as you stop shaking me before you turn my bones to jelly!”

After that day Leonard found himself looking for Jimmy on the playground every day during recess. He usual found him surrounded by the girls in his class, as well as a few from Leonards class. Jim was always nice to the girls picking them dandelions and smiling at them, Leonard would sometimes even start to feel weirdly jealous until Jim would smile at him. Leonard didn’t get why he felt that way, he didn’t have anything against the girls and plenty of them flocked around him as well whether he wanted them to or not. They said they liked his accent, he just thought they were silly headed girls.

Of course as much as Leonard liked Jimmy, he wasn’t to fond of the nickname he’d been given on the second day of school. “Bones!” Jimmy called out as he ran across the playground towards him.

“What did you call me?” Leonard was sure he must have been talking to someone else.

“Bones, you know because you thought I’d turn your bones to jelly. I thinks it’s much better than Leonard.” Jim explained with a smile.

“I happen to like my name you know.” Leonard huffed.

Jimmy just threw his arms around the older boy in a tight hug, “Come on Bones, let’s go have fun.” Leonard soon learned it took a lot to dampen Jimmy’s mood, and decided he liked having a friend more than he cared about a silly nickname and just went with it. Jimmy was too much fun to be around.

They spent pretty much every recess together, and sometimes Leonard would stick around after class to play with Jimmy and his older brother some more because Jimmy never really wanted to go home. Leonard was a observant kid and he’d notice when Jimmy would have new bruises, but he always said they were from falling out of a tree or something. Leonard was young enough to believe Jimmy’s stories. They never really saw each other outside of school though. Jimmy never invited Leonard over to play on the weekends. When Leonard invited him over for his birthday Jimmy was really excited to come, but then didn’t show up. When Leonard saw him next on Monday he had a new black eye and a story about a crazy game of tag with his older brother.

Another thing Leonard noticed about Jimmy was he never seemed to bring enough for lunch. They had the same lunch time and Jimmy would usually sit on one of the tables outside. Once they were friends Leonard began to sit with him. Leonard noticed that Jimmy would rarely bring more than a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with him. Leonard never ask him why he didn’t bring more to eat, he just started packing an extra apple in his own lunch and maybe a cookie too if he could sneak one past his dad. He also started saving change he’d find around the house to buy an extra milk. Eating a proper lunch was important to grew up strong, his dad had told him, and he wanted to be sure his friend had what he needed to do just that. At first Jimmy didn’t want to take the extras that Leonard brought him, but eventually his grumbling stomach won out. He seemed to really enjoy the apples.

It was in his second year there that tragedy struck that would change Leonard forever. Leonard was now in second grade and Jimmy was in first. Although Leonard thought that Jimmy was smart enough to be in his class, if he would stay out of trouble long enough for the school to see it too. It was too bad that he wasn’t though, as the school had managed to arrange a field trip for all the second graders to go to the Starfleet build site to get a tour of the new starships. Leonard’s dad was even going to show them around one of the medbays he had helped design.

It was a bright and sunny Tuesday when a bus load of seven year olds pulled up to the gatehouse outside the build site. All of their little faces pressed against the bus windows trying to get a glimpse. Once the gate began to roll open all the kids cheered excitedly. The tour went really well, the kids were too much in awe to cause any trouble or wander off. They were just leaving the ship, Leonard’s dad in tow, on their way to go sit down to eat their lunches when a loud screeching noise drew their attention to the sky.

Not to far in the distance they could see a shuttle craft falling from the sky, one of the engines was clearly on fire and a long streak of black smoke trailed behind it. The group of children watched in horror as the shuttle crashed into the ground just on the other side of the starship they had just been touring. The explosion that followed was loud and Leonard could feel the heat from the fire on his cheeks. Later he would say that he could hear the screams from the passengers onboard as they burned, but the only screams were his own as everyone aboard the shuttle had died instantly on impact.

#star trek #fanfiction #mckirk #au #kid fic

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 7 years

Text

My Eyes - Part 13

Pairing: Bucky; Steve x Fem/Reader

Word Count: 4,665

Story Description: Steve is a good man, America’s golden boy, a hero. He’s Captain America for christ’s sake! So it’s normal to want what he has… right? Bucky knows he doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t even deserve the second chance at life he’s been given. But Bucky can never let him know. Steve can never find out that his friend is in love with his best girl.

Story takes place post “CA: CW” and all tension has been resolved.

Previously On...

Y/N grabbed all Jimmy’s necessities and threw them in a bag. Suddenly her son dropped to his knees.

“Mom…I don’t think I can walk.” Jimmy groaned.

Y/N tried to stay calm, knowing that her panic would only frighten Jimmy more. Before she could call out for his help, Bucky came into the room and scooped Jimmy into his arms as if he were still a toddler.

“Grab the things, Y/N. I got him.” Bucky assured her.

Next thing she knew, they were taking off in the jet. Bucky pulled down a built-in cot and laid Jimmy down on it before piloting the quinjet. For a moment, he had a flashback of Steve being in the same position the night he died.

“FRIDAY, give me analytics on Jimmy.” Bucky activated the A.I.

“James has a temperature of 105 degrees. His heart is beating erratically. Sergeant Barnes, it appears his body is triggering a suppressed mutant gene.” The A.I. reported quietly enough so Jimmy didn’t overhear, not that the boy could focus over the pain.

Y/N was muttering comforts to Jimmy as her hand gripped her sons tightly. Bucky could tell from her slightly pained expression that she was using her ability to take away as much as her son’s pain as she could.

When Bucky landed the quinjet, there was already a team of doctors in the hangar. Banner and Stark were waiting with them, giving as much instruction as was needed. The rest of the Avengers were standing out of the way.

The doctors didn’t say anything to Y/N as they rushed Jimmy’s gurney out of the jet and rolled him in the direction of the medical bay. Y/N almost barked at them for taking her son away. But Bucky stopped her from following.

Her eyes blinked back the tears and she looked around the hangar. This all felt too familiar. The gurney and being held back from someone she loved as they were in pain.

“He’s going to be okay, Y/N.” Bucky whispered as he held her shaking body in his arms.

---

Bucky and Y/N waited just feet away from Jimmy’s bed. They had placed him in a patient room. The doctor’s assured them he would be fine. But they gave him a sedative to make his transition less painful.

Y/N had fallen asleep against Bucky’s shoulder and he had his arms wrapped around her. She’s used so much of her power to take away Jimmy’s pain that her body was finally responding to the exhaustion.

One of the doctors came into the room quietly. Bucky wasn’t familiar with her, but Banner assured them that she was the leading researcher in mutant and enhanced human beings.

“He’s not your son?” She whispered to Bucky, hoping not to wake Jimmy or Y/N up. She moved around Jimmy, checking vitals and writing things down.

Bucky shook his head.

She nodded calmly with a small smile.

“Steve Rogers is his father, isn’t he?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched at the question. He knew he could trust the people Stark brought into the compound. But his instincts were still to protect his family. Y/N had always been clear about keeping Jimmy’s heritage a secret.

“It’s okay.” The doctor seemed to sense his inner turmoil. “I figured it out after I studied his blood work. Not only does James have the mutant gene, but there were traces of the ‘super-soldier’ serum in his genetic build.” She gave him a sad look. “I thought he could be yours since you have a similar serum. But look at the kid, he’s practically his clone.”

“She doesn’t want the world to know.” Bucky muttered, glancing down at Y/N who remained asleep against him.

“I understand.” The doctor nodded. “I have kids too. I know it’s not my place to say, but she did the right thing. I can’t imagine what you’ve all gone through.”

Bucky blinked rapidly at the comment.

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Once the analysis is complete, I’ll have a better understanding of what’s going on with James.”

He said a quiet, but sincere, thank you before the doctor disappeared again.

---

“Mom?” Jimmy’s voice was raspy as his eyes squinted up.

Bucky shot forward. “Your mom’s taking a shower and getting something to eat right now, bud. How are you feeling?”

Jimmy slowly sat up and his eyes caught sight of the water next to his bed. He chugged the whole cup in one gulp.

He nodded slowly. “Better.”

Bucky sighed and leaned back in his chair. “You gave us quite a scare.”

Jimmy looked around. Through his pain and fever, he hadn’t really been able to process much yesterday. “Ugh…Bucky? Where are we?” He noticed that everything was too high tech and fancy to be a normal hospital.

Bucky chuckled. “You’re at the Avengers’ compound.”

Jimmy’s eyes lit up and his jaw dropped in a grin that Bucky couldn’t help but laugh harder at. “Really?” Bucky nodded. “This is where you live?” Bucky nodded again. “Can you show me around?”

The boy was already trying to move his legs to the side of the hospital bed. But Bucky locked him in place.

“Easy, easy, easy. Your fever just broke. I promise I’ll show you around…as soon as the doctors discharge you.”

Jimmy sighed and frowned in disappointment.

“Jimmy! Oh, thank god.” Y/N came rushing back into the room. Her hair was still wet from her shower and she was wearing a pair of Bucky’s sweatpants and his t-shirt. Her arms wrapped around her son, careful not to hurt him.

Y/N started asking him a million questions about how he was feeling. Jimmy appeased his mother and calmly answered all of them.

A few minutes later, the same doctor from last night strolled in with an army of nurses and other doctors.

“Miss Y/L/N, we finally have a diagnosis on James.”

Y/N nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, with Jimmy’s hand in her grasp.

“It seems Jimmy will have similar changes in his body as Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes did. Since it was hereditary and not an injection, his body’s absorption is delayed. He will most likely show noticeable changes as soon as he hits puberty. And if my calculations are correct, that won’t be for a few years.”

Y/N shared a look with Bucky. Her son was going to be just like him? “I’m confused. What caused his fever then? Does Jimmy not have a mutation?” She asked.

The doctor’s jaw clenched. “He does have a mutant gene. Or as people here like to say… Jimmy is enhanced.”

“With what?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Unfortunately, the fever and pain were only the first steps of the process. If Jimmy does get exceptional abilities, they haven’t manifested yet. But we believe they will be quite strong with the way his body reacted yesterday.”

“Mom?” Jimmy whined in fear. These teams of doctors weren’t even talking like he was in the room. He was scared. What was going to happen to him?

Y/N put her full attention toward her son. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“Miss Y/L/N, can I give you and your son my professional and honest opinion?” The doctor was genuinely asking.

Y/N looked at Bucky and he gave her an encouraging nod and small smile.

“Please do.” She answered.

“Maybe it’s best for you and your son to relocate closer to the compound. You won’t find better help anywhere else. This building is filled with the brightest and most extraordinary people. And I have a feeling that Jimmy won’t be much different.” With that, the doctor jostled her team out of the room.

“Maybe she’s right, mom.” Jimmy whispered, breaking the tension filled silence in the room.

“Jimmy, we’ll talk about this later.” Y/N warned.

Bucky had never heard her use that tone with him before. It made him watch Y/N closely, desperately trying to read her.

Suddenly the team was parading in, making the room feel tiny.

Y/N managed to slip out from the room after seeing that Jimmy was preoccupied and in good hands. Bucky had been watching her like a hawk and quickly followed.

“Y/N, we need to discuss this.” Bucky muttered as he caught up with her.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Bucky.” She answered curtly without slowing down her pace.

He wasn’t going to play this game and gently gripped her arm enough to force her to a stop. “Y/N, please don’t do that.”

She ignored his soft plea. “Can you watch over Jimmy for a bit?”

Bucky sighed and nodded.

---

Y/N knew Tony wouldn’t mind if she borrowed one of his cars for a bit. It was like her heart was in control as it drove right to it: the house she lived in when she was with Steve. It was barely 15 minutes away from the compound.

She was relieved to find that no one else was living there.

The house was still beautiful. But now it looked cold. It was obvious that no one had resided there for quite some time. Y/N found her feet guiding her to the back porch. There was still a bench to sit on.

Y/N didn’t know how long she sat there, but the sun was almost past the horizon.

She heard Bucky’s motorcycle before his footsteps.

Without greeting her, he slowly sat down and joined her on the bench.

A few minutes of silence passed between them. All they could hear was the rustling of the tree leaves and cicadas.

“You know, Tony bought this place right after you left. He was convinced that you’d come back eventually…said he wanted to make sure you felt at home again when you did.” Bucky told her.

Y/N said nothing.

Bucky ran a hand over his scruff. It had been a stressful 24 hours for him too. “Y/N, sometimes it scares me how easily you can run away and hide from me.”

That finally got her to acknowledge him. It was an unfair yet true point. “We should’ve never brought Jimmy here.”

“You know that’s not true, doll.”

“One look at him and doctors are drooling over my son’s genetic code. Some of them even looked at him like he was Steve resurrected.”

“Y/N, I know it’ll never be true. But I see James like he was my own-” He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

She watched him. “Like he was your own son?”

Bucky just nodded guiltily. “I know you built a life in Montana. You wanted to get as far away from here as you could. But there is no other place that will be able to help Jimmy.”

“I didn’t need a place like this to get used to my abilities.” Y/N argued.

“But you can’t ignore the possibility that Jimmy could be stronger. His enhancement might have more repercussions than yours.”

“So what? I’m supposed to abandon our lives? Take Jimmy out of school and bring him here, where everyone will just compare him to Steve for the rest of his life? It’s not fair to him!” Her eyes watered. “And it’s not fair to me! I can’t live in what’s left of my past. This house is a tomb!”

“We can find another place!” Bucky encouraged.

“No. Everything in this stupid town reminds me of Steve! I hate it here.” Y/N’s anger made her stand up from the bench.

She started to leave, but Bucky grabbed her wrist.

“Y/N, you can’t keep running from your past.” He said softly.

She glared at him and ripped her wrist away. “Yeah? And how would you know?” Her voice was low and threatening. It was meant to hurt him. Bucky ran from his past for as long as he could. If it weren’t for Zemo, who knew how much longer he would’ve hid from Steve.

Y/N started walking away again.

Bucky quickly stood up. “Y/N?” The gentleness in his voice made her pause for a split second. “Please don’t shut me out.” He recognized the tactic. It used to be his go-to defense.

His plea wasn’t enough. She kept walking away.

---

Y/N woke up to her son jumping onto her bed.

“Mom! I got discharged!” Jimmy said excitingly.

She couldn’t help but giggle. “Yes, I can see that.”

“Bucky promised he’d show me around the compound. Do you want to come with?” His voice was filled with energy and enthusiasm. No one would ever know that he had almost died a few days ago.

“I think I’ll sleep more.” Y/N sighed. She didn’t need to go through memory lane of the compound.

But her answer seemed to disappoint Jimmy. He sighed an okay and slowly sulked out of the bedroom.

---

Bucky immediately noticed how quiet Jimmy was as he took him around the facility. Even when he showed him the Tony’s lab, Jimmy’s enthusiasm was subdued.

He stopped walking to face the boy. “You feeling okay, Jimmy?”

He didn’t take his eyes off the ground. “Mom hates it here, doesn’t she?”

Bucky sighed. “This place…it just has too many memories for her. It reminds her how much she misses your dad.”

That made Jimmy look up. “But she’s with you now!” He pointed out innocently.

“It’s more complicated than that. She’s always going to miss him. Nobody is ever going to change that… Not even me.”

Jimmy huffed in frustration. “If she misses him so much, why does she never talk about him with me?” It was a childish reaction. But that’s exactly what he was: a child…a child who didn’t understand the complex relationships of adulthood.

“I can’t answer that. I’m sorry, bud.” Bucky gripped his shoulder.

As they walked through the compound, dozens of people sporadically crossed their paths. Jimmy started to notice a pattern with all of them. They watched Bucky with caution, especially agents or tech people that didn’t usually converse with him.

Jimmy tugged on his metal arm. “Uncle Bucky?” He almost whispered.

“Yeah, bud?”

“Why is everyone so scared of you?” He stopped walking as he asked, giving Bucky no chance to escape the question.

Bucky’s jaw tensed at the question. He was fully aware of people’s wariness towards him. He just chose to ignore it. The reaction was normal and he couldn’t blame any of them. They’d probably seen countless footage of him as the Winter Soldier. Once people see that, it’s hard to trust the man underneath.

But it was sweet that Jimmy was so confused by it. Bucky had never been anything but loving and protective over him. Yeah, he’d heard about the Winter Soldier and kids referenced it every once in awhile. It wasn’t uncommon for kids to play make believe as the Avengers. But Jimmy had only ever seen Bucky as a superlative example of a man and a hero.

“Ugh… “ Bucky had no idea where to begin. Sadly, he was scared that if he explained to Jimmy how the world perceived him, then the boy would never look at him the same. “There was a time where I did a lot of bad things, Jimmy. It wasn’t really me. I didn’t have control. But I still make people uncomfortable sometimes.”

“What did you do?” Jimmy asked carefully.

“What if I promise to tell you when you’re older?” Bucky smirked. There would always be a part of him that wanted to keep Jimmy’s innocence. The boy looked at Bucky like a hero. It would break Bucky’s heart the moment that was lost.

Instead of a whining or begging for the information right then, Jimmy considered the offer. “What’s your definition of older?”

Jimmy could easily look it up on the Internet. But he wanted to hear it right from the source. He knew how tainted media could get. He’d made the mistake of reading things about his dad.

Bucky chuckled at the boy. “16-years-old.”

“Fine. But you have to take me to the training facility then.” Jimmy countered.

“Deal.”

---

“Well, look who got discharged!” Sam bustled at the sight of Jimmy. He and Natasha were sparring. The gym was filled with noises. Various agents were working out and fighting.

Jimmy just smiled at his unofficial aunt and uncle.

“Should I teach you a few moves, James?” Nat asked mischievously.

“Uncle Bucky beat you to it.” Jimmy laughed. Then he realized he had just accidentally let the secret slip. He slammed a hand over his mouth and looked up at Bucky in fear. “Sorry.” He winced.

Bucky had no intention of reprimanding him. But he rubbed his face roughly.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see Y/N’s face when she finds that out.” Sam laughed.

“Please don’t say anything.” Jimmy begged the two of them.

Natasha and Sam just gave him a look that said all that was needed to assure him his secret was safe.

“Barnes, want to spar and embarrass yourself in front of Jimmy?” Natasha offered.

He was about to open his mouth to decline but Jimmy hit him lightly on the arm. “Please, Uncle Bucky?! I want to see what you can do!” He’d never seen him in action. Yeah, Bucky trained him. But Jimmy knew he was barely going 1% against him.

“Is someone scared?” Natasha teased.

“Fine.” Bucky held his hands up in surrender.

Sam guided Jimmy to a bench as Bucky chalked his hands and wrapped them up.

“You know, Romanoff, I never did get back at you for secretly inviting Y/N to your birthday party.” Bucky threatened lowly.

“Oh, yeah? Maybe it was because you were too busy sleeping with her.”

Bucky glared, but couldn’t stop his devious smirk from appearing.

With that, they started sparring. It felt like it went on forever. Every once in awhile, Bucky would hear Jimmy cheering for him. Sam, on the other hand, cheered against him just for the entertainment of it.

They’d been fighting for a straight half hour when Bucky finally nailed a kick to Nat’s stomach. She flew back so hard that the air was knocked out of her as she landed roughly on her back.

Nat grumbled. “Yep. I guess I deserved that.”

“Holy fucking shit! That was amazing!” Jimmy stood up and cheered.

“James Wilson Y/L/N, what did you just say?” Y/N had snuck into the gym during the fight without anyone noticing. Bruce and Tony were flanking her.

Fear flew into Jimmy’s eyes. He looked back at Bucky for help, but he looked just as displeased.

Bucky wanted to say, ‘He gets it from you.’ But he knew better.

“We’re heading out, Jimmy.” Y/N quickly said.

“What? Right now?” Jimmy gasped. “But mom, can’t we stay a little bit longer?”

Bucky stepped forward, still breathing heavily from sparring. “Y/N, shouldn’t Jimmy rest a-”

“Come on, Jimmy. Tony is flying us back. You’ve already missed the first week of school. We have to get home.” Y/N cut off Bucky’s defense and didn’t even look at him.

Nat, Sam, and Bruce all shared uncomfortable stares.

Bucky looked dejected.

Tony felt bad for the poor guy and managed to wrangle Jimmy away. They walked ahead of Y/N quickly. The rest of the team disappeared and it gave Bucky a small window of privacy with Y/N.

“You won’t even let me take you home?” Bucky hissed in frustration.

“Tony offered.” Y/N lied, continuing to walk briskly.

Like always, Bucky grabbed her arm to pull her to a stop.

“You can’t be mad at me for giving my opinion on what’s best for Jimmy.”

“That’s just it, Bucky. Jimmy is my son. Sometimes I still think we’d be better off if I managed to stay hidden.”

Bucky’s heart shattered. “You don’t mean that.” He whispered.

She wouldn’t meet his gaze anymore.

“I’m here, Y/N. I’m here for you and Jimmy. I’m not going to tell you how to parent. You don’t need anyone’s help. But why are you treating me like I’m your enemy?”

In his frustration, Bucky quickly raised a hand to run his fingers through his shaggy hair. But he stopped sharply when he caught Y/N flinch at his movement.

Y/N thought he was about to hit her.

“I’m sorry!” Y/N blurted out. She didn’t mean to flinch at his innocent action. It was barely a few months ago that she was dating Brian. Her body was still constantly ready to physically defend itself.

Bucky wanted to wrap her in a hug. But physical contact clearly wasn’t going to help the situation. “Y/N! Y/N…I-I would never-”

“I know.” She stopped him. Her cheeks were red with embarrassment and she looked like she was about to cry. “I know you wouldn’t. It was just a natural reaction. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apol-” Bucky started.

“Miss Y/L/N, Tony is waiting for take-off in the hangar.” FRIDAY interrupted their conversation.

“I gotta go, Bucky.” Y/N spoke to the floor.

“Y/N, please!” Bucky asked desperately.

Why did this feel like a different goodbye? It was scaring him.

“Maybe we did this too quickly.” Y/N sighed. “Bucky, maybe we should just take some time to-”

“To what? To figure out what we want? Because I know what I want. I’ve always known.”

Y/N glared at him. “Well, it’s not that easy for me.”

“I know it’s not, Y/N. But Christ, it would be nice if you met me halfway sometimes! I don’t know what else to do!” Bucky’s frustration was growing. But it was just his desperation rising from the fear that she was going to disappear.

Y/N said nothing.

“Is this going to happen every time something reminds you too much of Steve?” Bucky accused.

“That’s not fair!” Y/N snapped.

Bucky crashed his lips onto hers. If Y/N were truly mad at him, she would’ve found the courage to push him away. But her body refused to stop the kiss.

He finally pulled away roughly. “Go home. Figure out what the hell it is that you want. You can’t keep making decisions because of a ghost. We both know he wouldn’t want that.”

“Why do you have to be so god damn perfect? It makes it so hard to stay mad at you…” Y/N scoffed. But her furrowed brow proved she really was irritated with it.

She started walking away. Bucky caught her wrist. “I love you, okay?” He stated quietly.

Y/N nodded. The words still shook her… And every time she wished she could say it back. But she owed it to Bucky, and herself, to only say it when it was actually real.

Y/N started walking away. But she still couldn’t leave like that. Bucky didn’t deserve this. She turned around and gave him one last passionate kiss.

“Thank you for helping Jimmy. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” They were hard words to admit. But Y/N managed to look beyond her own pride to thank him.

---

Retiring as an Avenger felt like a horrible decision as Bucky tried to entertain himself. The team never talked about missions, intel, or injuries around him. They knew that if he overheard something concerning, he would feel guilty for not helping. The team took it upon themselves to keep Bucky in retirement, no matter what.

Bucky still trained like he would have to save the world at any moment. He kept reading book after book in Tony’s library. He continued his hobby of cooking. But it quickly turned depressing when he had to eat all the meals alone. He wanted so badly to call Y/N. He just needed to hear her voice. Furthermore he couldn’t help but worry about Jimmy. But he knew she needed space.

Y/N was confused and stressed.

Maybe they really had rushed into things too quickly. For Bucky, it felt so perfect. He’d waited so long to love Y/N. But for her, it happened so fast. She went from thinking Bucky hated her to being told he’d secretly loved her since the day they met. Bucky felt guilty the more he thought about it. Had he put too much pressure on her too soon?

It had been weeks since Jimmy and Y/N left the compound.

The darkest parts of Bucky’s mind worried that he would go back to Montana to find her house abandoned…that history would repeat itself. It was hard to keep those thoughts away.

“Sergeant Barnes, you have a visitor in the living room.”

Bucky’s brow creased. Who the hell would be visiting him? For a moment, he panicked. Maybe it was one of his one-night stands. But there’s no way security would have let them past the gate.

He stopped when he rounded the corner.

Y/N quickly turned around at the sound of his arrival.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky gasped.

Y/N gave a nervous smile and shrugged her shoulders. “You were right.”

“…I was?” He was so stunned by her presence that his mind didn’t seem to be working properly.

“You were right about a lot of things, actually.” Y/N laughed lightly at herself. She walked closer to him, drawn to Bucky like a magnet. “I can’t keep running and hiding from a ghost.” She sighed. “This is the only place that can help Jimmy.”

Bucky just nodded slowly, taking in everything she said.

This was by no means a victory of any sort.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N whispered. Her lower lip started shaking. “I’m sorry for constantly trying to push you away.”

Then Bucky’s arms were wrapped around her tightly. “It’s okay.” He soothed her.

But Y/N shook her head. “No. It’s not okay. You’ve done so much for me. And you’re right: you’ve always loved Jimmy as if he were your own son.” She pulled away to look up at him. Bucky brushed away the tears with his thumb. “It’s been so long since someone’s truly loved me. It freaked me out. Steve made me so weak. I relied on him too much. He was my world. After he died, I told myself I’d never let anyone else in. I couldn’t stand being weak again.”

“You’re not weak, Y/N.”

She gave him a shy smile. “You don’t have to say that.”

Bucky sighed and kissed her forehead. “One day I’ll make you believe me.”

Y/N couldn’t find any other words. She’d said her peace. So she just curled into his chest, letting his warmth calm her.

“Doll, how the hell did you get here?” Bucky finally asked.

Y/N chuckled. “Oh, yeah. About that…”

He pulled her away from his body so he could look at her expression. She looked playfully guilty.

“Jimmy and I may or may not have just moved back into my old house…”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “What?” He gasped.

“Yeah. Jimmy made his wishes very clear. I couldn’t stand keeping him away from his family anymore. He wanted to start over. So that’s what we’re doing. We drove across the country in a few days. And here we are.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped.”

“I know you could’ve, Buck. But I’m not completely helpless.”

“Your capability has nothing to do with it, doll.”

Y/N smiled and shook her head. “I know.” She took in a deep breath. “Anyways, Jimmy said he wouldn’t unpack a single thing until I came over here and talked to you…and invited you over for dinner.”

“The kid is stubborn, that’s for sure.” Bucky chuckled.

“He’s a clone of Steve Rogers, what do you expect?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because none of that comes from you...”

Y/N scoffed at the accusation and started heading for the exit. But Bucky gently wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back toward the kitchen. She looked at him with confusion.

“I have a bunch of leftovers I made.” He said casually.

“Oh, thank god! I really didn’t feel like unpacking all the kitchenware tonight. I was honestly planning on just ordering takeout.”

Bucky chuckled.

“Plus, your cooking is a million times better than mine.” Y/N sighed and kissed him on the cheek.

Bucky’s heart warmed from her touch.

For a moment, everything felt normal and right.

--------

Part 14

Real talk fam, do you guys hate how much Jimmy is involved in this fic? I’m just curious. Let me know!

#marvel fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst #my eyes part 13 #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #marvel reader insert #bucky reader insert

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junker-town · 4 years

Text

What if the NFL had a quarterback-only draft today?

Lamar Jackson, Deshaun Watson, and Patrick Mahomes are among the NFL’s best QBs.

Every QB gets thrown into the draft pool on their current contracts. Who goes where?

What if every NFL quarterback were made available in a QB dispensation draft?

Who would go first? How would playoff teams recover from losing their signal callers? Who’d risk their future for the short-term boost of an accomplished, but aging, veteran?

Let’s give it a shot and shuffle the league’s QB decks. Every club takes a turn drafting a passer. This isn’t a ranking of NFL quarterbacks 1 to 32, though. Each team drafts based on its current roster and coaching lineup, so fit matters.

Age and contract status matter as well. Young and cheap are major assets for building a championship roster. Lamar Jackson will be saving Baltimore upwards of $30 million in salary cap space the next two seasons thanks to his team-friendly rookie contract. Patrick Mahomes may obliterate the league’s salary record in the near future, but he’s currently set to make just $5.3 million next fall.

Below, the teams are listed based on the 2020 NFL Draft order. The Bengals start us off. The defending champion Chiefs wrap things up. Every quarterback in the league — including backups, free agents, and this year’s rookie class — is eligible.

Here’s how this theoretical QB rundown shakes out.

1. Cincinnati Bengals: Patrick Mahomes (24 years old)

The reigning Super Bowl MVP and easiest pick in this draft. Pairing up Mahomes with A.J. Green, Tyler Boyd, Tee Higgins, John Ross, and Auden Tate would turn Cincinnati from the NFL’s least watchable team into a legitimate reason to buy Sunday Ticket.

2. Washington: Lamar Jackson (23 years old)

The reigning league MVP owns the NFL record for most single-season rushing yards as a quarterback and led the league in passing touchdowns while doing so. He’s 19-3 as a starter during the regular season. His playoff record could use some polish, but even if he’s done growing as a player, he’s an absolute monster capable of single-handedly swinging games. Washington needs that, because its offensive depth chart is just a picture of the Mongrovian flag.

3. Detroit Lions: Russell Wilson (31 years old)

Wilson is a perennial MVP candidate with Super Bowl bonafides. He’s also the reason the Seahawks refuse to slide into rebuilding mode following year after year of baffling draft decisions and shoddy blocking (99 sacks allowed the past two seasons). Now he gets to oversee a perpetual rebuild (bad) while throwing to Marvin Jones, Kenny Golladay, and D’Andre Swift (better).

4. New York Giants: Deshaun Watson (24 years old)

Watson goes from a franchise that just fixed a gaping hole at left tackle (albeit by giving Laremy Tunsil record-setting money) to one that hopes it has after drafting Andrew Thomas at No. 4 overall. Watson guided Houston — a team that went 1-11 in the games he didn’t start in 2017 — to a 24-13 record in his three seasons. He’s also responsible for the only Bill O’Brien playoff win that didn’t come against Connor Cook.

5. Miami Dolphins: Aaron Rodgers (36 years old)

Is Rodgers fading as he heads into his late 30s? Or were the past two seasons of good, not great, play the product of a lackluster cast of receiving talent behind Davante Adams? Even if it’s the latter, he’s made too many insane throws in big moments to be ignored. Plus, he’s younger than Ryan Fitzpatrick so ... youth movement in South Beach?

6. Los Angeles Chargers: Dak Prescott (26 years old)

STILL the best quarterback of the class of 2016. The Cowboys asked him to throw more than ever in 2019, and he responded with a career-high 4,902 passing yards (more than 1,000 more than his previous best) and a 30:11 TD:INT ratio. The Chargers, forever on-field drama magnets, get a player who led 14 game-winning drives in his first three seasons.

7. Carolina Panthers: Drew Brees (41 years old)

Brees was 40 years old last season and still finished second in the league in passer rating — albeit after missing five games with a torn ligament in his thumb. He may not have more than the 2020 season left in his NFL career, and the odds he’d leave New Orleans, especially to play for a division rival, are roughly zero. Still, there’s no denying his greatness.

8. Arizona Cardinals: Joe Burrow (23 years old)

This seemed like a good spot for Tom Brady — Larry Fitzgerald and DeAndre Hopkins! — until I remembered what an immobile veteran with a wavering deep ball would look like in Kliff Kingsbury’s system. I hated that idea and opted for a college quarterback who threw 60 touchdown passes last season, averaged more than 14 yards per completion, and who would absolutely lose his mind in Kingsbury’s adapted air raid.

9. Jacksonville Jaguars: Tom Brady (42 years old)

Brady remains in Florida, but doesn’t get the receiving upgrade of Mike Evans and Chris Godwin. Instead, he’ll throw to D.J. Chark, Dede Westbrook, Chris Conley, and Laviska Shenault Jr. His 2019 season was one of the least efficient of Brady’s career, though many of those struggles could be attributed to a disappointing surrounding cast in New England.

Does throwing Brady on a tanking team make sense? Nope! That’s why it’s an extremely Jaguars move.

10. Cleveland Browns: Carson Wentz (27 years old)

Here’s where things get difficult. There’s a host of good, not yet great, young-ish quarterbacks and heady veterans who make up the next tier.

I opted for Wentz — the quarterback the Browns traded back from possibly drafting in 2017. He arrives carrying the hope Cleveland’s massive upgrade at wideout (and to a lesser extent, tight end) will unlock the player who threw 54 touchdown passes against just 14 interceptions in 2017 and 2018. This could be my dumbest selection of the day, seeing as the Eagles may have drafted his replacement last week and have appeared very stupid doing so.

11. New York Jets: Jimmy Garoppolo (28 years old)

As much as a stately veteran like Matt Ryan or Kirk Cousins would fit here, Garoppolo’s ability to exceed expectations makes him New York’s pick. The 49ers signal caller was a few bad decisions away from being the reigning Super Bowl MVP. He’s also 21-5 as a regular season starter, and his 8.4 yards per attempt ranked third in the NFL last year.

12. Las Vegas Raiders: Kyler Murray (22 years old)

Jon Gruden loves Kyler Murray. His cheap salary would help Las Vegas continue to spend big in free agency and give a club in a new home a young, bankable star. The 2019 NFL Offensive Rookie of the Year wasn’t amazing in his debut, but he finished strong enough to showcase his potential.

Here’s what he did in his final eight starts as a rookie: a 65.2 percent completion rate, 217 passing yards per game, 6.9 yards per pass, 33 rushing yards (on 6.2 per carry) per game, and an 89.3 passer rating. The 13:8 TD:INT ratio over that span is worrisome, but that’s something Gruden can tolerate if it means getting his guy.

13. Indianapolis Colts: Matt Ryan (34 years old)

The Colts chose a prolific, experienced quarterback when they signed Philip Rivers this offseason. They do it again by selecting Ryan, a former MVP who completed a league-high 408 passes last fall despite sitting out one game in the middle of the season. Ryan had 11 300+ yard performances in 2019 thanks, in part, to a defense that kept him frequently playing from behind. He’ll get a boost on that side of the ball in Indianapolis, but the lack of Julio Jones could put his high-volume passing in a new light.

14. Tampa Bay Buccaneers: Kirk Cousins (31 years old)

Cousins’ two seasons since being freed from the shame treadmill that is the Washington franchise: 69.7 percent completion rate, 56 touchdowns, 16 interceptions, 255 passing yards per game, and a 103.0 passer rating.

Now he gets to whip passes at the Evans/Godwin combo Brady was forced to vacate in the draft.

15. Denver Broncos: Matthew Stafford (32 years old)

6’1 Baker Mayfield is probably the highest-upside player available. But Matthew Stafford is 6’3 — closer to the tall QB ideal general manager John Elway absolutely loves. Stafford’s more than willing to take chances downfield, as proven by his league-high average throw depth of 10.6 yards downfield last year. That makes him 100 percent the kind of gunner Denver wants launching deep balls to Courtland Sutton, Noah Fant, Jerry Jeudy, and KJ Hamler.

16. Atlanta Falcons: Ryan Tannehill (31 years old)

Tannehill is the draft’s X-factor. He’s a player whose 2019 season measures among the league’s best but who is also capable of reverting back to the ineffective form that ended his Miami tenure. The Falcons need a win-now quarterback to keep Dan Quinn’s employment hopes alive, and Tannehill’s ability to air the ball out would help keep a passing game that features Julio Jones and Calvin Ridley running smoothly.

17. Dallas Cowboys: Baker Mayfield (25 years old)

Mayfield could be the draft’s biggest bargain if he can harness the power that pushed him to MVP-caliber numbers over the second half of his rookie season (68 percent completion rate, 19:7 TD:INT ratio, a 106.2 passer rating). Playing behind an offensive line that allowed Dak Prescott to be sacked on only 3.7 percent of his dropbacks — and playing for a head coach who isn’t Freddie Kitchens — should spur an improvement in his return to Texas.

18. Pittsburgh Steelers: Ben Roethlisberger (38 years old)

The Steelers almost made it to the postseason with Devlin Hodges and Mason Rudolph starting the majority of their games. Bringing Big Ben back into the fold after he slid down the draft board makes more sense than hitting reset and starting over with one of the available, unproven QBs like Sam Darnold,

19. Chicago Bears: Josh Allen (23 years old)

Chicago’s facing a hard reboot following Mitchell Trubisky’s failure to become a franchise quarterback. Allen’s recent development makes him a better bet than Daniel Jones, another quarterback who wasn’t amazing playing college ball in the state of North Carolina but still enjoyed a meteoric rise through the pre-draft process.

Allen made the improvements necessary to guide Buffalo back to the postseason last year, upping his completion rate by a full six percent and cutting his interception rate nearly in half. He’s a capable runner (1,141 rushing yards, 17 touchdowns the past two years) who can exceed the production a healthy Trubisky provided. He’s also pretty cheap; Allen will count less than $13 million against the team’s salary cap through 2021.

20. Los Angeles Rams: Jared Goff (25 years old)

LA was forced to shed contracts this spring, somewhat as the result of Goff‘s massive extension after he led the Rams to Super Bowl 53. He rewarded that faith with a backslide in 2019.

Even a bad season in which his touchdown rate and yards-per-attempt figures shrunk and his interception rate rose, he’s still the quarterback who piloted a stacked offense to a 33-14 record the past three years. Sean McVay would be happy to have him back this late in the draft.

21. Philadelphia Eagles: Derek Carr (29 years old)

The Eagles worked hard to overhaul their WR corps this offseason by adding skillful deep threats like Marquise Goodwin, Jalen Reagor, and John Hightower to the mix. None of those wideouts are sure things, however, and it could behoove the Philadelphia to find a passer capable of efficiently moving the ball in the mid-range.

Carr hasn’t gotten much recognition since his MVP-adjacent 2016 season, but there’s only one thing he truly does poorly as an NFL quarterback; hold on to the football while diving for the end zone. He attempted the fewest deep balls of his career last fall thanks to the Raiders’ lack of targets, but he was rock solid in the intermediate game. He completed 78 percent of his passes from 0-19 yards.

22. Buffalo Bills: Tua Tagovailoa (22 years old)

The Bills took a chance on a big-armed college passer in 2018. They do the same here with Tagovailoa, who was a better collegiate quarterback (by a mile) than Josh Allen but brings several questions about his health following last year’s dislocated hip. He’ll look great in Buffalo’s continually evolving offense.

23. New England Patriots: Teddy Bridgewater (27 years old)

The Patriots could swing on higher-upside quarterbacks like Jones, Dwayne Haskins, or Sam Darnold. Instead, Bill Belichick’s refusal to spend anything more than a Day 3 pick on a quarterback indicates he may be more interested in veteran help to replace Tom Brady. Bridgewater, fresh off a 5-0 stint as the Saints’ spot starter, is used to filling in for a future Hall of Famer.

24. New Orleans Saints: Philip Rivers (38 years old)

Out goes one prolific passer who used to play for the Chargers. In comes another. Michael Thomas may be the perfect eraser for Rivers’ increasingly erratic throws.

25. Minnesota Vikings: Sam Darnold (22 years old)

Darnold has been in the league two years and is still one of the youngest starting QBs. He improved steadily throughout 2019 as long as he wasn’t seeing ghosts in the Patriots’ secondary, going 7-6 as a starter in an otherwise ugly Jets season. He threw only four interceptions in his final eight games to go along with an efficient 93.3 passer rating. Now Minnesota gets to see if he casts off some Kirk Cousins vibes once freed from Adam Gase’s influence.

26: Houston Texans: Daniel Jones (22 years old)

Jones swaps out Dave Gettleman as his GM for Bill O’Brien. He may be cursed.

Jones somehow had three different games where he had at least four touchdown passes and zero interceptions. He also had seven games with multiple turnovers, including so, so many embarrassing fumbles. He is the Schrodinger’s Cat of second-year quarterbacks. Houston is perfect for him.

27. Seattle Seahawks: Cam Newton (30 years old)

Being able to avoid pressure is a prerequisite for a Seattle quarterback. Newton can do that — though his injury concerns suggest this could end poorly for the Seahawks. Still, they get a former MVP who may just need a change of scenery to put his last two disappointing seasons behind him.

28. Baltimore Ravens: Drew Lock (23 years old)

As tempting as it would be to snag Dwayne Haskins and once again show Washington how developing a franchise QB is done, the Ravens have a special place in their heart for anyone who makes Joe Flacco expendable. The Broncos scored 15.9 points per game in their 3-8 start without Lock. They averaged 21.4 in a 4-1 finish with the rookie in the lineup.

29. Tennessee Titans: Jacoby Brissett (27 years old)

Tennessee took one roughly average quarterback and turned him into found money when it traded for Tannehill last offseason. Brissett is another buy-low passer with the capability to throw a gorgeous deep ball. The former Patriot looked like a real franchise building block in the Colts’ 5-2 start, but a Week 9 knee injury sapped his effectiveness in a disappointing finish.

30: Green Bay Packers: Justin Herbert (22 years old)

They already drafted Aaron Rodgers’ real life replacement in 2020’s first round. Herbert’s availability allows the Packers to follow up on that instinct with a more productive college quarterback.

31: San Francisco 49ers: Dwayne Haskins (22 years old)

Haskins was a monster in college, but he struggled in his NFL debut with an undermanned Washington team. He’d get an immediate upgrade and the opportunity to fulfill his potential with the Niners — and he’s got the upside to make his drop all the way to 31 look downright stupid.

32: Kansas City Chiefs: Ryan Fitzpatrick (37 years old)

This is partially a win-now move and partially because I want to see some FitzMagic involving Tyreek Hill, Travis Kelce, Mecole Hardman, and Sammy Watkins. Would Gardner MInshew or Jordan Love be better forward-thinking moves? Yep. Would Jameis Winston, Andy Dalton, or Nick Foles provide similar instant gratification and a longer runway to the future? Probably.

But the NFL is better when Fitzpatrick is given the green light to close his eyes and chuck it deep. Kansas City is perfect for that.

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