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indeedcaptain · 1 year ago

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Spirktober 2023, day 8: Matchmaker

Remember the good ole days when I could successfully tell a story in under 2,000 words? Yeah, me too. Here is my pass at a matchmaker spirk fic, featuring: Nyota getting what she wants and deserves, the fun of hurt/comfort without having to write action scenes, and Bones being the best.

Also posted on AO3 here!

☆☆☆

Leonard dropped his lunch tray onto the table across from her with just a hint more aggression than normal, and she knew that she was in for an entertaining if not entirely unbiased accounting of someone’s audacity.

Leonard McCoy was not one to hide his complaints from others (one of the nurses was keeping a tally of “I’m a doctor, not an X” statements and there was a long-standing betting pool on which occupations would get mentioned), but Nyota considered herself privileged to be one of the only people to whom he confided identifying information.

“That boy is going to be the death of me, Uhura,” he grumbled, and stabbed a fork into the saddest replicated salad she had ever seen. She hummed empathetically and continued to eat her soup while he got his legs under him, so to speak, for whatever monologue was sure to follow.

“Full of spit and vigor, too much courage for his own good, but not a lick of the common sense that God gave a rock. One of the most handsome men on the Enterprise, even if that’s not to my taste, but I’ve heard enough of the ensigns crying over him to their friends at one point or another in the maintenance closets. Hasn’t dated seriously in years, despite desperately wanting to be in a relationship, and yet! And yet! When he comes to me and says, ‘Bones, I’ve fallen in love and I think it might be the forever-type,’ and I say, ‘Well, you damn fool, aren’t you going to say something?’ And He says,” and Bones pressed his lips together in a manner that made his eyes seem more protuberant than normal. “And he says, ‘No, I don’t think I will!’ Can you believe it?”

“No, I can’t,” Nyota murmured, and she smiled conspiratorially at him. She started narrowing down the list of candidates. One of the most handsome men on the Enterprise could be any number of people, depending on one’s proclivities, but she knew Leonard liked a blonde as much as the next man. Courage, with no common sense? Well, every man on the Security staff, certainly, and most of the bridge crew besides. But who among them were unpartnered?

“You know him,” Leonard said, accusatory, and jabbed his fork in her direction. “You know that he would be a wonderful husband to anyone who didn’t mind playing second fiddle to the Enterprise.”

“I know,” she said, though she didn’t. “But good luck finding someone who doesn’t mind competing with and losing to a ship.”

“That’s the worst part! Or the best, depending on which way you look at it.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He’s in love with maybe the only person more dedicated to his duty than he is.”

There was a little click in the back of Nyota’s head, similar to the sensation she felt when the puzzle pieces of a language’s syntax slotted into place for her. Leonard finished his salad and tossed his fork down onto his tray. He pressed both palms to the table and leaned towards her. She leaned in towards him, unwilling to miss a single syllable or inflection. She had to know.

“Let me tell you, Miss Uhura,” Leonard said, and stood up. “Mr. Spock is going to leave our damned captain high and dry if he can’t buck up the courage to say something before some nice Vulcan woman tries to fill T’Pring’s shoes.”

Confirmation. Nyota did not let her face show that this was new information to her. “But what if Spock doesn’t love him in return?”

Leonard scoffed. “Find me a man who looks at anyone the way Spock looks at Kirk and tell me that he isn’t in love.” He nodded to her, bussed his tray, and vanished through the officers’ mess doors back down the hallway that led to Medbay.

The Captain was in love with Spock?

Well, that was certainly interesting news. She would have to pay closer attention to the way that Spock looked at Kirk in return. If she couldn’t read Spock’s body language better than anyone else on this ship, she would resign her commission and go home. She considered Spock a good friend, and he had never mentioned anything to her about being smitten, though she didn’t think Vulcans had a word for anything close to that. But would he mention it at all? Or would he prefer to keep it to himself, if he had developed romantic feelings for someone?

She resolved herself to acquire new information, solely through legitimate means, of course, to determine if Leonard’s gossip was true. And she was only going to collect information. She had a policy against meddling in the affairs of others. If they couldn’t work it out on their own, that was their business.

☆☆☆

Nyota watched Kirk and Spock carefully over the next three shifts. They were respectful of each other, perfectly matched teammates. Spock balanced Kirk’s more impulsive decisions, and Kirk’s nonlinear thinking pattern pushed Spock to consider the merits of new ideas. They were good for each other, as they had been for years. But it was only as she watched them carefully that she witnessed how Kirk looked at his first officer when his back was turned. The captain, under Spock’s careful gaze, was professional, warm, guarded. The moment Spock had turned away, or turned his formidable focus on someone else, Kirk’s eyes softened, his smile relaxed. He was in deep.

What Nyota could not tell, though, was whether or not Spock felt similarly. He allowed Kirk his friendly touches --- a hand on the shoulder, a tap on the arm --- but tolerating the easy affection did not necessarily imply that he welcomed it. When he looked at the captain, Nyota could easily see his affection and respect. But was that friendship? Or something more?

When Spock requested the pleasure of her company in his quarters a few days later, she readily accepted. This was not an unusual request, as he had been teaching her the Vulcan lute and she was introducing him to Earth’s classical music, but she had never before approached their time with a covert mission. When she arrived, he replicated her a cup of the tea she preferred (chamomile, with lavender and honey) and brought down his lute from its place on his bookshelf. They had been working through children’s songs, but she was finally starting to feel as though her fingers knew where to go. In exchange, she introduced him to a new one of her favorite pieces: the overture to Swan Lake. He liked dark music, minor keys, percussive stringed instruments, and she thought he might enjoy the melancholy nature of it.

“It is beautiful art,” he said, when the last notes had died away.

“It is usually accompanied by ballet. We should see if any theaters nearby perform it on our next shore leave,” she said. “We could have a night on the town.”

“I would enjoy that,” he said. There was something in his tone that few others would have perceived; a distance. He was distracted by something. It must have been a heavy thought indeed, to distract the unflappable Vulcan.

“Spock,” she said gently, rewriting her body language to be inviting, calming, uninvasive. “Is there anything you would like to discuss?”

He glanced up at her from his lute, which he held carefully. His eyes and body said yes but his mouth said, “No, Nyota. Thank you.”

The set of his shoulders was so determinedly miserable that she decided a little pushing might go a long way, even if he chastised her for her intrusion later. She had learned long ago the human aspects of his mind needed community even if he didn’t know how to ask for it. “Are you sure? I don’t mean to intrude, but you seem a little… distracted.”

He held her gaze for a minute, deciding. She kept her face on the caring side of neutral. After a period of consideration, he sighed quietly through his nose.

“I have been changed,” he said. She felt the corner of her mouth twitch, but hid it.

“What do you mean?”

He plucked one string on the lute, the note dissonant on its own. “I did not believe it to be possible for me. After T’Pring chose the kal-if-fee and I nearly destroyed the captain, I did not consider finding a compatible mind to be possible or probable.” He looked up at her. “But I have discovered a compatible mind on the Enterprise; so close to my own that if we were to meld, I believe a bond would form spontaneously.”

“Spock,” she gasped. “That’s wonderful. Why are you speaking like this is a bad thing?”

“This is a bad thing, Nyota,” he said gently. “What human would submit to the possession of a mating bond?”

“Your mother did,” she said. “Someone who loved you might.”

“I could never bear to take away his freedom. And,” Spock paused. He closed his eyes. “I do not think that this person is. Interested. In me. In men.”

Kirk, you enormous idiot. “Have you asked him?”

“It has not come up in casual conversation on the bridge, no,” he said. So it was someone on the bridge crew. It couldn’t be anyone but the captain, right? She did not think that Sulu would be Spock’s type. Swords were an illogical weapon of choice.

“We do frequently talk about sex on the bridge,” she pointed out. “But some people --- two in particular --- do not participate at all, because you’re both consummate professionals.”

Spock gave her a warning glare, but she had to be sure. “If I am following your meaning, which I think I am, it would not be logical to assume that, just because he has not expressly stated that he is interested in men, the interest does not exist.”

“I am unwilling to entertain any hope on this front. I believe it would be detrimental to our working relationship.” He did not contradict her on her assumption. Bingo.

“It could strengthen it beyond your imagination,” she pointed out.

“The risk is too high. I will not compromise our friendship for anything in this universe or any other.”

“I know, Spock. But this could be something beautiful for you both. You’ll never know unless you ask him,” she said. “Maybe he feels the same way you do, feels your compatibility, and thinks that you’re not into him. You’re not exactly an open book.”

“And yet I am to you, dear Nyota,” he said, and now she could see the twinkle of warmth in his eye. She knew in her bones that Spock would be a wonderful partner. She had even considered him for herself at one point, before deciding that she was looking for a distinctly more feminine energy. She knew that if he and Kirk managed to get over their egos and fears and talk to each other, the brilliance of their partnership --- their marriage --- would rival the stars in the sky.

“Will you please talk to him?” she asked. “I simply want you to be happy.”

“I know,” he said. “But I want him to be happy.”

In light of new information, Nyota thought that she might have to reconsider her policy of nonintervention.

☆☆☆

Leonard was already seated at their typical lunch table when Nyota arrived. She had been caught up in a particularly knotty translation, and the captain had been concerned their newest encryption level had already been broken. She was running late, and feeling agitated, and was unwilling to beat around the bush any longer.

“Len,” she said. “I need your assistance.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow at her tone. “Is there a bee in your bonnet?”

“There is,” she said. She dropped her voice. “Has Kirk talked to you any more about his feelings?”

“Only every weekend for the past six months.”

“And there’s been no change?”

Leonard gave her a side-eyed glance. “What’s it to you, Miss Uhura?”

She sighed and prepared to lay her cards on the table. “Correct me if I’m wrong. But the captain is in love with Mr. Spock.”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“But he won’t say anything because he’s a professional, because Spock is Vulcan and allergic to public emotions, and because he values their friendship too much to mess it up. Am I still on track?” Leonard looked suspicious, but he nodded. “I have it on good authority that Spock feels the same, but won’t act on it because he doesn’t want to subject Mr. Flights of Fancy to an unbreakable marriage bond.”

Leonard’s eyes widened. Then he frowned. “So Spock feels so strongly about the captain that he would bond with him, but won’t say anything because he doesn’t want to force the captain to commit. And Kirk feels so strongly about Spock that he wants to commit to, and I quote, a ‘forever kind of love,’ but he won’t say anything because he doesn’t want to subject Spock to having to deal with his feelings.”

“That seems to be the case.”

Leonard frowned again, deeper, etching every line in his face into stone, before howling with laughter and smacking his knee. “Those two idiots deserve each other,” he said, wiping his eyes when he could breathe again. He took a deep breath. “So how are we going to do this?”

Nyota grinned. Despite his grouchy exterior, she knew she could count on Leonard to be in cahoots immediately. “Listen,” she said. “I’ve read a lot of romance novels, and wooed a man or two. Here’s what I was thinking.”

☆☆☆

Step 1: Forced Proximity (Completed)

Nyota was on her third translated Andorian poem of her promised five when the conniving crewman she’d enlisted instant-messaged her.

> Lt. Karros: K in position. I pulled some wires - no real damage, but annoying warning signals. S being sent to investigate.

>NUhura: Thank you! Keep me updated. Poems being sent soon.

> Karros: THANK YOU

She bent her head back to her translations -- credits would be too easy to track, so in exchange for Lieutenant Karros’s assistance with her project, she had offered to translate some poetry from Andorian to Standard for Karros’s nefarious purposes. And by ‘nefarious,’ Nyota meant only that Karros’s attempts to woo an Andorian stationed on another ship were sweet if ill-timed. Far be it from her to criticize the desires of the heart.

>Karros: K and S both in position. Jeffries tube sealed.

>NUhura: [Attachment: Do You Trust This Sender? Cybersecurity Is Everyone’s Prime Directive.] andorianpoems1-3.pdf.

>NUhura: Good work :) more to come!

When the “assistance requested” message came through from the maintenance panel in the tube Kirk and Spock had been trapped in together, Uhura set up a pretty little software package that sent the request on a very circuitous route through the Enterprise’s brain before arriving at Commander Scotty’s workstation. She didn’t intend to leave the boys in there for long; just enough to get some quality face-to-face time.

By the time the captain and Spock appeared on the bridge, Nyota had translated the last two poems, sent them off to her new favorite Security personnel, and schooled her face and body to reveal nothing except a friendly relief that they had arrived. Body language was a language unto itself and Nyota was nothing if not an exemplary communications officer, after all. Kirk’s eyes were light and his face was twisted up in a grin, and even Spock was not at his most austere. Preliminary success, she thought, and she smiled prettily and innocently at Spock when he looked her way.

Step 2: Hurt/Comfort (Failed successfully?)

Having a new relationship to look forward to on the ship was quickly becoming one of the joys of Nyota’s life. Leonard had deputized Christine Chapel to help Nyota brainstorm and scheme after he kicked Nyota out of his office, shouting, “I’m a doctor, not a kidnapper!” after she tried to convince him to give her chloroform. Despite Christine’s quiet demeanor, she had a wicked sense of humor and few qualms about emotional manipulation. Nyota discovered, to her delighted surprise, that she and Christine also had a very similar taste in novels, especially regarding certain flavors of pulp fiction from twentieth-century Earth.

She and Christine had been planning their next move in her quarters --- figuring out how to lock Kirk and Spock into their quarters without alerting Scotty or giving them time to escape through their conveniently shared bathroom --- when the red alert went off. All thoughts of romance fled from her mind as Christine ran to Medbay and Nyota sprinted to the bridge.

“The Klingons beat us here,” Sulu said grimly as she skidded into her seat, kicking her hapless relief off the bridge. She jammed her earpiece in and closed her eyes to concentrate. His Klingon abilities were good, but hers were better.

Spock and the captain had beamed down on what was supposed to be a quick check-in on implementation of a treaty that had recently been signed between the Federation and the planet’s government, and their mission had gone to shit almost immediately. The governor was dead, it seemed, her seat filled by a Klingon general whose name she recognized from horrible reports of cruelty on other planets. Her stomach turned to lead as she translated his grunts, coming through Spock’s open comm, full of static and wrath.

Then, she found that she suddenly did not need to translate any longer, because General V’Tar had switched to Standard.

“Uhura, what’s happening?” Scotty, acting captain, clenched the arms of the center chair. She switched the audio from her earpiece into the overhead speakers so the rest of the bridge crew could hear. Clever Spock had left his comm line open so that they could hear what was going on.

“You intend to colonize a planet for resources your ships don’t even use? What good does that do you?” Jim, unflappable in the face of danger, sounded genuinely curious.

“This isn’t about resources, Captain Kirk,” V’Tar said. “This is about you.” Nyota’s stomach dropped. Something was about to go very wrong.

“About me?” Confusion, and the slightest hint of worry leaked into Kirk’s words. Nyota’s hand flew to her mouth. She could hear it in V’Tar’s voice: they had been set up. She pulled up everything that she could find about V’Tar on her console and scanned through his known history. Oh no. Oh no.

She called Chekov. “Pavel, you have to get them out right now! The Klingons are here for revenge!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying! The signal is weak --- I almost got them!”

“Uhura, explain.” Scotty’s voice was strained with tension.

“This general was on Organia --- Spock embarrassed the Klingons when the mind sifter didn’t work --- this was a trap!”

Over the comm, V’Tar said, “Klingons believe that the leader is responsible for the behavior of all subordinates. What do you think, Captain Kirk?”

Uhura heard Kirk gauge his response, and he inhaled before saying, “Well, I think---”

“I disagree,” Spock said.

“Oh?” V’Tar said. “You disagree, hybrid trash?” Nyota snarled.

“The captain did not ruin your mind machine,” Spock said calmly. “I did.”

“Commander, be quiet,” Jim said. His voice was brittle.

“I almost got them, almost,” Chekov said. “One more second, medical on standby-”

“I’ve wanted to put your dog down for years, Captain Kirk,” said V’Tar.

“I’ve got them!” Chekov cried. A disruptor fired. Spock exhaled sharply. Kirk cried out, “No!” Spock’s comm link dropped.

There was silence on the bridge. Then Chekov’s voice over the comms: “Got them!”

Scotty roared, “Take us out, Mr. Sulu!” Nyota tossed her earpiece onto her console and dashed into the turbolift. “Transporter!”

The transporter room was in pure chaos. There was a pack of nurses surrounding someone prone on the transporter pad. Nyota heard Leonard’s voice, steady in the storm, calling for hypos and hands and support. “Three, two, one - lift!” A collective surge of movement --- six nurses, led by Leonard, ran for the turbolift. His hands were covered in green blood. Someone called, “Medbay!” The door slid shut and whisked them away.

Nyota turned back to the pad. Jim knelt where he had been revealed, arms resting on his thighs in front of him. He stared into the middle distance, face slack with shock. There was green blood across his uniform, dripping down his fingers, sprayed up onto his jaw and the side of his neck.

“Hi, captain,” she said, and stepped up to kneel next to him. “Can you look at me?” His face turned towards hers, but his eyes were unfocused, staring somewhere over her shoulder.

“He…”

“I know, honey.”

“He took that shot for me.”

“I know, honey.”

Finally, Jim’s eyes met hers. Her heart broke for him. “Why would he do that?”

Because he loves you. “You need to ask him that. But I think you know.”

He shook his head, and Nyota could see unshed tears shining in his eyes.

“Yes,” she said. “You have to promise me that when he pulls through, you’re going to have a conversation with him about it.” She stood and tugged on his arm, and he came pliantly with her. “Promise me,” she insisted.

“I promise,” he said, and he let her tow him to Medbay, let her wash off his hands and scrub Spock’s blood off his neck and face, and she held his hand as they both sat outside the surgical suite.

Leonard stepped out three hours later, more haggard than Nyota had ever seen him. They stood together, and when Jim squeezed her hand a little too tightly she didn’t complain.

“Bones, please,” Jim said.

“You’re a damn fool, Jim Kirk. When he comes out of the trance, you are going to tell him.” At ‘trance,’ Jim and Nyota sagged with relief against each other.

“Who died and made you captain?” Jim muttered, but he stepped in and hugged Leonard tightly before he had even had the chance to wash his hands. After Leonard walked away to scrub down and a little more of the tension had left Jim’s shoulders, he gave Nyota a side-eye. “You and Bones wouldn’t happen to have collaborated on your very specific instructions just now, would you?”

“No, sir,” she said innocently.

“Good,” he said, hands on his hips, and then he dropped the posturing. He scrubbed one broad hand across his face and looked up at the ceiling before looking back at her. He said quietly, “I had convinced myself that, as long as he hadn’t turned me down, I still had a chance. I wasn’t ready to lose that yet.”

What could she say that wouldn’t directly betray Spock’s trust? She was saved from responding by the blessed appearance of Christine, who said, “Would you like to see him?” They followed her down a hallway to a private room. As Nyota passed Christine, the taller woman passed a soothing hand down her back, and Nyota turned back to smile at her. Christine smiled sadly at her and shut the door behind them.

Spock looked so small, lying in the hospital bed. Nyota had never known him as anything but stalwart and steady, her closest friend on the Enterprise. She heard Jim stifle a noise in his throat. Spock’s chest rose and fell, but the majority of it was wrapped in bandages. Bruising spread in green lines like lightning away from the puncture wound, and he was developing black eyes from the trauma of impact.

“Spock,” Jim said miserably. There were two chairs, one on either side, and Nyota steered him to one before taking the other. They sat in silence with Spock as his body healed, until there was a knock at the door some time later.

“Lieutenant Uhura, we need you,” Chekov said. His eyes flicked from her to Jim to Spock. She stood immediately. “Thank you, Pavel,” she said. She bent down, pressed her lips to Spock’s forehead and thought at him, Heal fast. I love you. Then she walked to the door.

Something compelled her to look back. Jim sat with his head cradled in his hands. “Jim,” she said softly, holding the door. He looked up at her, and the naked emotion in his eyes was almost too much to translate. “I don’t think he would mind if you touched him. It might bring him comfort.”

The hope in Jim’s eyes made her heart constrict, and she turned away. As the door closed behind her, she saw Jim slide his hand into Spock’s where it lay near the edge of the bed, and he pressed his forehead into Spock’s arm. “Don’t leave me,” he said, muffled by the stiff cotton sheets. She left them to it.

Step 3: ????

Nyota and Scotty reported the events with the Klingons to Starfleet HQ. “Well, that’s a disappointment,” Admiral April huffed, and shuffled the papers on his desk. “That planet had strategic promise. But I’m glad that Commander Spock will make a full recovery.”

“We are as well, sir,” Scotty said.

“Thank you for checking in. Keep us appraised of any more unexpected conflict, and try not to start any fights.”

“A lady doesn’t start fights,” Nyota said primly.

“But she finishes them, hmm, Lieutenant?” Admiral April’s eyes sparkled before he nodded to them and cut the connection.

“He’s got your number, missy,” Scotty said, and chucked her affectionately on one shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and followed him back to the bridge. They had warped to a clear patch of space, a safe distance from any contentious areas, and were awaiting future orders. In the meantime, Scotty had requested downtime for repairs and Nyota was updating the ship’s records on V’Tar and this sector to reflect the day’s events.

Her padd pinged with an instant message.

> CC: He’s awake!

Step 4: Profit

In the spirit of allowing Kirk and Spock to at least start the very necessary conversation between them, she allowed for thirty minutes between Christine’s message and her arrival. Nyota thought that she might have left skid marks on the clean tile floors of Medbay if she had raced in any faster after those thirty minutes were up. She didn’t see Christine or Leonard, and the nurses who did see her didn’t stop her from running back to the private room where she had left Kirk and Spock six hours previously.

She knocked. “Enter,” came Spock’s voice. She allowed herself to melt with relief at his solid, steady tone for one moment before collecting herself and letting herself in.

They were beautiful. Kirk sat in the chair that she had left him in, but his spine was straight now, and his shoulders were broad and square. The light had returned to his eyes, and his mouth curved in an easy smile. His right hand was on his hip, angling him towards her in the doorway, but his left hand was on the bed. More accurately, it was clasped between both of Spock’s, held in Spock’s lap. Spock was sitting upright, the healthy green flush returned to his cheeks. Though both eyes were still blacked and his entire torso was wrapped in bandages, he sat up straight, his composure returned. His eyes, when they met Nyota’s and then slid to Kirk’s, were warm and crinkled at the edges - the happiest she had ever seen him. And was that the slightest hint of a smile that tugged at one corner of his mouth? Leonard leaned against the wall on the other side, arms crossed against his chest, one hand gesturing in a way that made her think that she had interrupted a lecture.

Oh, her beloved, stubborn, frustrating brothers. “I believe we may owe you a debt of gratitude, Lieutenant,” Kirk said, smiling. She waved off the idea and took the seat between Spock and Leonard. Len squeezed one shoulder, and she patted it.

“You can make it up to me by scheduling us for some shore leave, captain,” she said, and Kirk threw his head back and laughed. She brushed one hand along Spock’s forearm, thrilling at his warmth and vivacity. Spock called her “my dear Nyota,” and Leonard called her a mastermind, and Kirk didn’t say anything else about her scheming.

Except for the presence of one little uncharitable thought in the back of her head, it was the best day of her year.

Step 5: Complete Victory for the Secret Gamemaster

Leonard kicked Nyota out of Medbay after the shift change. She complained, “But you’re letting Kirk stay!”

“Kirk is both the captain and Spock’s soon-to-be bondmate. You are neither of those things, and I think you might be wanted elsewhere.”

She rolled her eyes. “I wish. See you in the morning, Leonard.”

“Goodnight, darlin’,” he said, and he shut the turbodoor to Medbay behind her. Nyota took her sweet time wandering back to her quarters. She was so happy for Spock and Kirk, truly. She wanted nothing more than for them to find the love they both deserved in each other. But she didn’t think it was unreasonable for her to be the slightest bit jealous. The past few months had been wonderful, not because she loved to meddle, per se --- but because she had had compatriots. Meddlers-in-arms, after hours. She had had Christine. Now that their mission was complete, she wouldn’t have the same excuse to see Christine at odd hours, scheming in her quarters like they were having a sleepover. She found that the loss left her feeling bereft.

After Nyota was done wandering the halls in her own little pity party, she let her feet take her back to her quarters. She was a grown woman, after all, and could attend to her own needs just fine. But there was someone standing in front of her door; a tall, leggy, beautiful someone. Christine straightened up when Nyota rounded the corner.

“This is a nice surprise,” Nyota said, and smiled up at her friend. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Christine said, in that surprisingly deep voice that Nyota loved. Her grey eyes glinted in the harsh lights of the hallway. “May I come in?”

“Certainly,” Nyota said, and keyed open her door. She pulled off her boots and stood on the carpet in her stockinged feet, turning to face Christine. “What can I do for you?”

“Nyota, I’ve so enjoyed the past few weeks.”

“I have too,” she said. She watched Christine carefully, but Christine was the only person she couldn’t read. The woman was more stoic than Spock, not that she’d ever say that to either of them. Her shoulders were square, long arms clasped in front of her, weight balanced on both feet. Nyota smiled encouragingly. Is that all she had come here to say?

Christine took a step towards her. “I have always thought of you as a good friend, but I feel like I’ve discovered a new side of you since we’ve started spending time together off-shift.” She took another step forward. “It’s a side I like quite a lot.”

Nyota felt her cheeks warm. Christine was a few inches taller than her, and each step forward made her have to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact.

“If you don’t feel the same, I understand,” Christine said. “But if you do, I would like to continue to see you. Outside of the bridge and Medbay.” She took one final step. Her body language was now unmistakeable: if Nyota would let her, she would close the space between them. Nyota found that she wanted Christine to do it, very much.

Nyota reached across the gap and took Christine’s hand. She smiled at her. “I would like that very much.” Christine stepped forward, laced their fingers together, and kissed her. Christine was warm, and soft, and feminine in the way that Nyota liked. The little sprig of disappointment that had discolored her joy earlier melted away as Christine lifted Nyota from the ground and carried her to the bed without breaking their kiss.

Later, when Christine had stepped into the bathroom to brush her teeth before they went to sleep, Nyota checked her padd. She had one instant-message.

>RealMcCoy: You’re not the only matchmaker on the ship, you know

>RealMcCoy: Tell Chapel I said hi :-)

Nyota’s jaw dropped open as she reread the message and processed the implications. McCoy had bowed out of the planning early in Operation Kirk and Spock. For months he had said, “I’m too busy for these games,” all the while knowing that Nyota and Christine would be spending more and more time together.

>NUhura: YOU SLY DOG!!!

She and Christine sent him a case of Andorian ale.

#spirk #spirk fan fiction #kirk/spock #k/s #k/s fan fiction #spirktober2023 #spirktober #spirktober 2023 #nyota uhura/christine chapel #nyota/christine #star trek: the original series #kirk #spock #my writing

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starryhyuck · 3 years ago

Text

limit. (m)

pairing: gryffindor!mark x reader

words: 3.4k+

summary: with gryffindor on a continuous losing streak, you have no choice but to push your quidditch player boyfriend to his breaking point.

genre: smut

warnings: public sex, overstimulation, squirting, oral sex, degradation, daddy kink, face slapping

“If you keep pushing him, he’ll snap.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

You observe Mark across the Great Hall, fingers clenched tightly around his spoon. The other Gryffindor seated beside him are eyeing him warily, afraid the resident happy Head Boy was slowly losing his mind.

This, of course, is partly due to you.

You’ve refused to give Mark an orgasm until Gryffindor wins a Quidditch match, which has effectively been very hard since the team has been on a losing streak. You and Mark aren’t animals, per se, but the two of you fucked regularly and the fact that he hasn’t gotten the chance to touch you in weeks is taking a toll on him.

Lucas swings an arm around his shoulder and whispers something to him, but Mark’s eyes are locked in on you. You could almost feel the magic radiating off of his form. You smile deviously, arm reaching to wrap around Donghyuck’s, who gladly accepts your touch. Luckily, Donghyuck enjoys pushing Mark’s buttons almost as much as you do.

Donghyuck’s in the middle of feeding you a bite of his chicken when all of the glasses in the Great Hall shatter. A jumbled murmur of shrieks and gasps of surprise echo at the performance of wandless magic. Students whip their heads around, frantically trying to find the source of the fiasco. You already know who the culprit is, watching as Mark stomps out of the Great Hall, fists clenched tightly.

—

Donghyuck snickers beside you.

“You’re really asking for it. Wearing Slytherin gear and sitting with the snakes? He’s going to ruin you.”

You roll your eyes, brushing off his comment and adjusting the green tie wrapped around your neck. You briefly lock eyes with your irate boyfriend, who is currently on the Quidditch pitch, waiting for the match to begin. You smile and wave at him innocently, only to receive the nastiest look in return.

Donghyuck laughs again at the exchange. “I’ve never seen Mark look like that. Are you sure you’re ready for the consequences?”

You grin as the game begins, the cheering sounds from the Slytherin stands almost drowning out your voice.

“He needs a little push. Gryffindor has lost three games in a row already.”

You prove Donghyuck right a hour into the game. Mark has been scoring goal after goal since the match started. Slytherin’s Keeper tries to block every single throw, but Mark is clearly on a mission, showing no mercy to the Slytherin house. He almost looks like he would Avada someone on the spot just to win.

Every time he scores, he makes a point to look straight at you before zooming off. You smirk to yourself, already feeling your panties dampen at the sight. One part of you is slightly afraid of what Mark will do to you once Gryffindor wins. The other part of you is unabashedly excited.

The Slytherins around you groan and complain as Mark continuously scores. Donghyuck is enjoying the show, knowing you’re truly in for it later after seeing the murderous look painted on Mark’s face.

The game ends after two hours, with the Gryffindor Seeker securing the Snitch and winning the match. The sea of red erupts in a roar of applause and cheers, while the Slytherins grumble and curse their luck. It was the first loss of the season for the Slytherins, and they could all thank your boyfriend for that.

Usually, when Mark wins a game, you would wait outside the locker rooms and congratulate him with a kiss. This time, you want to make him work for it a little more.

Donghyuck chuckles when he sees you turn the opposite direction of the locker rooms.

“You’re in for it now.”

—

You’re laughing at something Doyeon’s telling you when you feel the abrupt tug on your arm. You hiss at the contact, ready to hex whoever it is. Realization seeps within you when you see the look of fury on Mark’s face as he tugs you away from your friends.

“I’ll see you guys later!” You call out, already feeling the slick of your wetness coating your thighs.

“Okay! Great game, Mark!”

The Gryffindor boy doesn’t even thank them, pulling open the door to the empty Potions classroom and shoving you inside. You put on your innocent persona.

“That wasn’t very nice. I was having an interesting conversation with Doyeon, if you must know.”

“On the desk. Now.”

The anger laced in his tone has your body vibrating. You decide to push him even further, frowning and clutching your books tighter to your chest. You still have Donghyuck’s Slytherin scarf wrapped around you, which Mark is heavily glaring at.

“I don’t even get a please? Where are your manners, Mark?”

You gasp when he steps forward, fingers bunching around the locks of your hair and pulling. Hard.

“You think this is so funny, don’t you? Watching me fall apart, breaking all the glasses in the Great Hall and receiving detention for it? How about wanting to injure someone on the field just so we could win? Just so I can come back to you, fuck you so hard your tight cunt stretches out.” His fingers grip the fabric of your skirt and he growls. You swear you can feel your juices start running down the inside of your thigh with how wet you are. “And what about this? This stupid fucking little skirt. You think you could get away with that too?”

You placed a charm on your clothing early this morning, making your button-up shirt just a little tighter around your chest and your skirt a little shorter than normal. You smile and try to raise your chin as much as possible, struggling as Mark continues to pull your hair.

“Daddy likes it? I did it just for you. Just so Daddy could win today.”

Mark’s eyes are the darkest they have ever been, and you try not to glance down at his trousers, which are probably straining from his growing erection. You only play the Daddy card once or twice, mainly because once it’s out in the open, Mark fucks you until you can’t feel your legs. And most days, you would prefer not to limp from class to class.

Another gasp rips out of your throat when he discards your clothing with the flick of his wand. He casts a silencing charm on the room, and you know you’re done for.

He leaves you in your undergarments, and today, you have chosen to wear a nice lacy number in Slytherin green. The sight makes him hiss in frustration, and it isn’t long before he slams you down on a nearby desk. You whimper at the contact, but Mark hardly cares about your well-being at this point.

He snickers at the sight of your ruined underwear, snapping the garter you’re wearing against your skin as you yelp.

“Look at you. Greedy little slut. Who got you this wet?”

“D-Donghyuck,” you manage to say, gathering enough courage.

The answer earns you a slap across the face and you cry at the pain.

“Wrong answer. Try again.”

“Y-You, Daddy. Just y-you.”

He hums in contentment. You shudder when you feel a finger run up and down your slit. “I’m going to make the rules very clear today. You’ll do your best to obey them, or else I’ll use your body how I please without letting you cum. Understood?” At your timid nod, he continues. “I’m going to fuck your tight little cunt raw. I’m going to cum as much as I like, and make you cum as much as I like. If I hear any protests, I’ll add an extra orgasm to the list. I don’t care if you’ve reached your limit. I don’t care if you can’t handle any more. I’ll do whatever I like, and there will be no arguments about it.”

You chew on your bottom lip. Mark has never fucked you raw before — you both always use Muggle condoms or contraceptive charms.

“But, Mark-“

He slaps your clothed slit and you gasp loudly. “That’s another orgasm added to the list. Do you want another one? We’re already at five.”

Your eyes widen. You’ve never been able to take more than three orgasms from him without passing out. You immediately shake your head, sealing your lips tight.

“Good. Bend over.”

You scramble to follow his orders, shakily positioning yourself over the desk. Another flick of his wand and you’re completely naked. You whimper at the vulnerability, wondering if he also cast locking charms on the doors too. Anyone could walk in and see you bent over like this.

Mark usually likes to see your face when he fucks you so you’ve never really tried this position with him. Goosebumps rise on your skin when you feel his hands exploring your backside.

“Wish everyone could see you like this for me. Bent over during dinner while I fuck you into the table. They always tease me about you. Gryffindor Head Boy could never satisfy his partner. They think I’m such a goody-two-shoes.” You almost scream when a finger unexpectedly pushes into you. “I wonder what everyone would think now — having you bent over the Potions desk like this, eager to be fucked like a little whore. Waiting for my cock to split you apart, isn’t that right?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy,” you garble.

He adds another finger, the squelch of your wetness causing you to grow even warmer. He thrusts his fingers inside of you, skillfully digging them into the spot you love.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about your cunt? Ever since you made that ridiculous bet with me, I knew I was done for. I had to excuse myself so many times from class just to rub one out in the bathroom. Seeing you in this cute little skirt, so eager to earn House Points, so willing to please the professor. I imagined how tight your pussy would feel when I wrapped a hand around myself, how many of those sweet moans I could bring out of you.”

When he pushes a third finger in, you shriek as you cum without warning. You were probably moaning without any sense, writhing on top of the desk as Mark fingers you through your orgasm. He drank up every single one of your sounds, gazing down at you with a feral look in his eyes.

Even as your orgasm subsides, Mark doesn’t stop fucking you. You almost request for him to give you a break, but you know it’ll just earn you another orgasm.

He watches you, waiting for you to beg for him to stop. He smiles when you obey, continuing to thrash and whine as his digits pump into you.

“So pretty, perfect for me. You’re always so tight, it’s not fair to me, you know? I could fuck you every single day and you would still need to be stretched out regardless.” He leans over your frame, mouth beginning to press open mouthed kisses at your throat. The sensation has you jolting, his fingers grinding down to rub at your clit. “But you would like that, wouldn’t you? So hungry for my cock.”

This was true — you couldn’t seem to get enough of Mark on a daily basis. Even if you didn’t fuck every single day, you always had the urge to get on your knees for him and suck his cock. It calmed you in a way. Before exams, Mark would pull you into a nearby alcove and let you suck him off until your worries disappeared.

You could feel your high approaching again. “P-P-Please,” you stutter, gasping and pushing yourself further down his fingers. “Please, Daddy.”

At the sound of your begging, Mark sinks to his ground. He jerks your body until you’re halfway off the desk, pushing your thighs apart so he can see you fully. He takes a moment to marvel at how pretty you are before licking a stripe up your cunt. You groan, fingers tangling into his hair, which is still slightly damp from his after-game shower.

He hums against your folds, exploring them with his tongue. Mark could eat you out for days and remain unbothered by the outside world. There have been multiple times where you’ve woken up to his head in between your legs as he snuck into your dormitory room early in the morning to get a taste of you. There’s also been a few occasions when he would convince you to sneak out while he runs patrol in the hallways, just so he could prop you against a wall and eat you out until you cry.

Your eyes flutter closed as you revel in the feeling of Mark’s mouth on your cunt. He’s groaning with you, hands cupping your thighs and bringing you closer to him. His nose continuously nudges your clit as he licks you, slurping on the remnants of your orgasm.

It doesn’t register for a few seconds that he’s still talking to you.

“This is mine. My cunt for fucking. I’m the only one who’s allowed to see you like this, understand? The only one who gets to make you cum.”

He is, indeed. You topple headfirst into your second orgasm, juices spilling into Mark’s waiting mouth. He cleans you up as your body attempts to recover. You’re lucky he remembered to place a silencing charm, your voice almost giving out with the amount of screams you’ve emitted. He decides to spare you this time, rising from the ground and licking his lips.

“Tastes so good.” He smirks down at you, watching as your chest rises and falls from heavy panting. You feel like you’ve run a marathon, but he looks like he’s only just started. His fingers brush stray hairs away from your face. “Poor baby. All fucked out already? I haven’t even given you my cock yet.”

You blink deliriously in response and he laughs. His fingers dig into your hips once more as he adjusts you on your back again.

“How about you answer a question for me? If you answer correctly, I’ll give you my cock. If you fail, I’ll add another orgasm to the list.” You blink again in response, brain fuzzy. He grins. “Why don’t you tell me what a bad girl you’ve been these past few weeks?”

He slaps the inside of your thigh to jolt you out of your reverie. “I-I was a b-bad girl, Daddy.”

“Hm? And why’s that?”

“I ignored y-you,” you whisper as his hand cups your breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers. “I cheered for S-Slytherin when I-I should have b-been c-c-cheering for Gryffindor.”

Your breath grows more shaky as Mark’s other hand inches towards your entrance again.

“And?”

“And I f-f-flirted with D-Donghyuck when I’m o-only s-s-supposed to have e-eyes for y-you, Daddy.”

“And?”

“And I charmed m-my clothes t-to tempt you.”

“Because?”

“Because I’m a whore.”

He smiles in contentment. “That’s right.”

Instead of pushing his fingers inside of you, you’re taken aback when the tip of his cock sinks into you. You moan loudly, not even noticing he had taken off his trousers.

“Fuck,” he curses, watching himself push into you. “Such a tight little cunt. Only for Daddy’s eyes, right?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy.”

His fingers find their way to your throat, curling and gripping your windpipe. You gasp and hear his sinister chuckle.

“There’s my little whore. Back in her place.”

He almost pushes you off the desk with the force of his thrusts. You have another small orgasm when Mark fully bottoms out, and he laughs when he realizes.

“Already? Looks like you’ve been just as desperate as me, baby.”

You’ve never taken more than three orgasms before. Since Hogwarts was a big school with many prying eyes, it was hard to get alone time with Mark like this. You often had to face the judgmental glares from the portraits whenever Mark fingered you behind one of the tapestries. Now that he has you all to himself, however, he intends to make the most out of it.

You’re pushing on the border of exhaustion, watching as your boyfriend continues to furiously push into you. He moves his hand from your throat to your cheek, slapping you once more to wake you up.

“Have to stay awake, baby. We still have two more to go.”

You mumble incoherently in response, past the point of comprehension. Once the tip of his cock rubs against your sweet spot, you cry out in pleasure. He grunts, angling himself so that he keeps hitting that spot inside of you. Over and over.

“M-Mark, I-“

“I know. Let me feel you, baby. Want to feel your cunt cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

You can’t begin to explain the tightening feeling in your stomach. You feel like you’re flying up to your peak at an unsteady rate. It almost feels like you need to use the bathroom, but before you can warn Mark, you fall apart.

You think you black out for a bit. You blink dazedly, body twitching and nervously moving on top of the desk. You get the strength to lift your head and check on Mark. His cock has slipped out of you, his gaze locked on your pussy.

“M-Mark?” You ask softly.

“Fuck, baby. You just squirted all over me.”

You gasp. You’ve never been able to squirt before and you eye the mess you’ve made all over Mark’s chest. He grunts, fingers pumping up and down his cock.

“Fuck fuck fuck. How can you be so perfect?”

And then he’s pushing back into you. You scream loudly, still trying to recover from such an intense orgasm. You realize that you’ve started crying, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Perfect girl for me,” he hisses, hand returning to paw at your breast. “Cunt is so so sweet. Can never get enough of you. Just give me one more, baby. One more.”

You want to tell him you can’t, you’ve reached your limit and can’t push it any farther. You squeal when he pinches your clit.

“Daddy, please-“

“Daddy wants another, baby. One more for me.”

His thumb circles your clit while his cock pistons in and out of you. When he finds your sweet spot again, he doesn’t rest. He’s on a mission to get you to orgasm again, the same expression painted on his face from the Quidditch game just a hour ago. He’s determined to see you fall apart, filth spewing from his mouth.

“I wish I could take you like this every time. Push you up in the hallways, fuck you until you’re a sobbing mess for me. Having everyone watch while I make you squirt, showing them I can fuck you better than anyone else can. I bet they would all be jealous. They could never have you falling apart for them, begging for them to fill you up with their seed.”

It dawns on you that Mark still hasn’t cast a contraceptive charm of any kind. He seems to be on the same wavelength as you, digging his heels to the floor and thrusting harder at the thought of cumming inside you. The lewd sound of your wetness fills the room, along with his grunts and your whimpers from oversensitivity.

“I want to fuck you everywhere before we leave this place. Want you to ride me in the middle of the Quidditch pitch for everyone to see. Want all the Gryffindors to watch as their Head Boy plows into his girlfriend in the common room. Want you to bounce on my cock during every meal. Fuck, I want you so badly, baby.”

When you squirt this time, you’re coherent enough to watch it happen. Drops of your slick pour out of you, gushing onto Mark’s cock and the floor. The sound of his thighs slapping against yours only grows louder and wetter with your orgasm.

Mark hisses. “Want my cum, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you echo back to him, barely staying awake.

He groans when he reaches his high, pushing deep inside of you to empty his load. He cums more than you expected, but you suppose he’s been holding it in for weeks. He finally finishes a minute later, collapsing on top of you. He subconsciously places kisses on your neck.

“Never act up like that again. I don’t think I have the stamina to do another round.”

You giggle, about to respond when the booming voice of your Potions professor echoes throughout the room.

“Mark Lee! What on earth do you children think you’re doing? Fifty points from Gryffindor!”

#nct smut #mark #mark smut

2K notes · View notes

kingexpl0sionmurder · 4 years ago

Text

Body Electric - Kaminari Denki - Smut

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder Pairing: Kaminari Denki/F!Reader Rating: 18+ (contains smut) Words: 5,491 Warnings: Sex work (Cam boy/girl), Quirkless AU, Aged-up Adult characters (someone is in grad school! wow!), mentions of masturbation (both male and female), mentions of casual ShinKami, established KiriBaku, Idk they are all just really sexually liberated and don’t care about watching each other cum. Is that voyeurism? I’m bad at tagging things. Title taken from a Lana Del Rey song. AN: Another BNHarem collab piece! The theme was sex work, and I have wanted to do a camboy Denki for a long time so here we go. This was really smutty in my head but Denki makes me soft and it turned out really cute in the end, I’m sorry? He’s such a dork I feel like any sexual encounter with him would just turn out like this in some way, idk. Thanks to @unbreakablekiribaku and @sailorsero as usual for being supportive of me. Happy birthday to @lady-bakuhoe and @burnedbyshoto 🎂🎂 There is no one else I would rather be birthday triplets with!

Please check out the Collab Masterlist: HERE Look 👀 at My Masterlist: HERE Buy me a Kofi if you’re scared of clowns too: HERE

---

Sighing, you sat up on your elbows, squinting at the chat on the screen, willing your heart to stop pounding and your breath to even out. The donations were pouring in, the chat moving so fast you couldn’t even read it. “Alright, lovelies, I hope you enjoyed that. Be right back and we’ll chat a little bit, okay?”

Donations popped up, the chat slowing a little as the clients who only came to jerk off to you left, leaving those who considered themselves true fans. You stood and made your way to the bathroom to pee, rinsing your toy off in the sink and washing your hands. You went back to your room, pulling on a hoodie and settling in front of the screen again.

“Alright, I’m back! I have some time for a few questions and then I have to go for the night. Let me see what we got!” You scanned the chat, ignoring the normal inappropriate questions. Mindfucker: Do you know who Chargebolt is? Cause I heard he watches your stream.

Your heart, which had finally slowed to a normal rhythm, picked up again. You most definitely knew who Chargebolt was. You gave him a good amount of money from your donations when you watched his cam shows yourself. “I do actually, he’s pretty popular on here, isn’t he?” You sat back a little, furrowing your brows. “How do you know he watches me?”

RedDaddy: He did a Q&A and mentioned your channel! Told everyone to check you out.

You recognized the names of the viewers and knew they were also regulars on Chargebolt’s streams as well, so you believed them. Chargebolt was gorgeous and funny, just your type. The knowledge that he was interested in you enough to watch you get off on camera was flattering. You hoped your blush wasn’t showing on your face.

“I’m surprised he knows who I am!” You had missed the last Q&A he’d done, since it hadn’t been on his normal streaming day, and you’d been stuck at work late. Leaning forward again, you bit your lip, looking into the camera from under your lashes. “Can I tell you guys a secret? I watch him, too. Why do you think I never do shows on Thursdays? That’s Chargebolt day.” With a wink you sat back, trying to will the blush from your cheeks. Mindfucker: I knew it! I bet he’s watching right now. You smiled, shrugging. “I hope he enjoyed the show, then!” You tried to hold it together, suppressing the urge to burst into a fit of giggles at the thought, answering a few more silly questions from your regulars, before signing off for the night, promising to be back again the following week.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, leaning your head back and groaning. It was wild that the guy whose cam shows you watched on the regular, the one who had inspired you to start your own, who you thought of half the time when you were filming yourself getting off on camera for strangers, knew who you were and was one of your viewers.

It brought you down a whole rabbit hole for a second, wondering if he got off on you getting off. Why else would he watch? Did he ever donate? You assumed he had a secondary account so you wouldn’t know it was him even if you tried to look at your past viewers, just like you had a secret account so you could watch him as well.

Cracking your eyes open, you clicked to view the donation tallies for the evening. You’d made enough to pay the rent on your apartment for the month in just one night. Sometimes you wondered how you ever managed to survive before you started doing this. It was meant to be a temporary side job, but you’d been running this cam channel under the screen name Neko for over six months, and you had clawed your way out of debt in such a short time, it didn’t make sense for you to stop.

You viewed a few more visitor stats with interest, before logging off the computer and shutting the laptop. You had to get to sleep for your real job in the morning, so you figured it was time for bed, pushing thoughts of Chargebolt to the back of your mind for now.

It wasn’t until later when you were lying down to sleep, that you thought of him again. Your eyes closed as you ran through a scenario in your head, wondering if he would mention you on Thursday, and what would come of all this? You had noticed your viewer numbers had spiked that day, so it was definitely beneficial that you’d caught his eye. You just weren’t sure what would happen next.

Denki was grinning into the camera, wiping the cum off of his abs with the towel he kept beside him, his chest and cheeks flushed pink. He adjusted in his chair, tugging the toy out of his hole and chucking it to the side, pulling his boxers back up over his softening cock. “I hope it was as good for you as it was for me, babes.”

He chuckled at the comments flooding the chat as he reached for his water and took a sip.

Tapeman: As always, you never disappoint me, Chargebolt.

“Hey thanks, Tapeman! I appreciate you always coming to hang out...get it? Coming?”

Mindfucker: Ridiculous.

“Aw, you love me, Mindfucker.” He winked at the camera. “So, did you guys enjoy my Q&A the other day?”

The chat filled with praise, making him grin. He loved to talk to his fans, and sometimes they had some great questions for him. He knew a lot of people just watched him as a way to get off, but he liked to give a little piece of himself to them because he knew that most of the people who watched were probably lonely, and he wanted to help with that in some way. He kept things laid back, joking and laughing with his viewers before and after the show, taking requests and doing his best to remember some of the regulars. Some of the few who had been with him from the beginning he’d made into moderators to help with keeping things somewhat orderly in the chat. Some of them he actually knew in real life, like his roommate Hitoshi, who used the alias Mindfucker.

Mindfucker: So are we going to talk about Neko? Denki’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, you mean the stream the other day? It was…” He made the appropriate motion as he said it. “Chef’s kiss, immaculate. She’s so beautiful…” Trailing off, he let himself think back to the way your chest heaved and the face you made when you came. “I would do anything for her, man.”

RedDaddy: Dude, I agree! She’s also super sweet, like, the total package.

Sighing, he leaned his elbow on the desk, his cheek resting on his palm. “I am a simp, my guy.” He sat up, squinting at the chat. “She said she watches, right? Is she here right now?” He scanned the names of the viewers, frowning. “She probably has a second account. Well, if you’re here, Neko, you should hit me up. I read all of my DM’s okay?” He grinned, winking again. “Alright, I have to go feed the cats so I’m outie 5000, thanks for hanging out and I’ll see you guys next week!”

He said his goodbyes, ending the stream and sighing. He wiped off his toy with the towel and clicked through his stats for the day, smiling at some of the comments that came with the donations. Hitoshi came into his room a few minutes later, holding one of the cats, an orange tabby named Miso, in his arms. “I fed them, you don’t have to.”

Was it weird that his roommate watched him fuck himself on toys and jerk off on the internet on a weekly basis? Nope. Denki had forgone all sense of modesty when it came to sex a long time ago, and Hitoshi was the same. It helped that they fucked around on occasion, best friends who got lonely and lived together sometimes did that, he guessed. Or maybe they were weird. It was whatever, he didn’t like to think about it too much.

“What would I do without you, Toshi?”

“Kill the cats, probably.” He deadpanned, leaning in the doorway. “Burn all the toast you try to make, buy the wrong peanut butter, eat Cheese-Itz for breakfast every day, forget to pay the cable bill.” He raised his eyebrows. “I can keep going.”

“Fuck off, I got the all-natural peanut butter once, it was an accident!” Denki threw his soiled towel into the laundry basket by the closet and picked up the toy he’d used, waving it around a bit. “Did you enjoy the stream?”

Hitoshi snorted, eyeing the dildo warily. “I didn’t really watch, I had my eye on the chat. I was looking for Neko.”

“Man, I can’t believe she’s a fan!” He waved the dildo some more, watching as it jiggled. “I would let her do unspeakable things to me.”

“Look out, your sub is showing, Denki.” Hitoshi teased. “But I agree, she’s pretty great. I wonder if she’ll ever do private shows.” Pausing to scritch Miso behind the ears, he continued. “I’m sure they’d be in high demand.”

Denki stood, pointing at Hitoshi with the dildo. He really needed to put it down somewhere and stop brandishing it around like a sword. “Don’t even, I’d spend all my money on that girl.”

“I know you would.” He chuckled. “I did try to go through the usernames and see if I could find out who she could be, but I didn’t have any luck.”

“It’s okay! I’m leaving it up to fate now, man. If the universe wants us to know each other, we will.” He stuck his thumb towards the ensuite. “I’m going to wash my ass and then we can play Among Us if you want.”

Hitoshi, completely unphased as usual, nodded. “I’ll get a team together. Check the discord when you get out.”

Humming, Denki made his way to the bathroom, picking up his phone on the way. It buzzed as he closed the door, and he glanced down to see he had a message from his other moderator and friend, Eijirou, aka RedDaddy. Tossing the dildo in the sink, he looked down at the screen and opened the message.

Eiji: No luck on finding Neko on the stream, but she said she never misses a Thursday, so I bet she was there.

Denki: Thanks for keeping an eye out, man. I appreciate you. Among us in 30?

Eiji: Bet. I’ll ask Kats to play too.

Your next stream day had you feeling nervous. Chargebolt had talked directly at you on his last stream, asking you to slide into his DMs, and you had yet to take him up on it. You didn’t know what you were so scared of, Chargebolt was a nice guy. You chalked it up to the fear of the unknown. If you sent him a message, what would you even say? ‘Hey dude, nice cock?’ It was bound to be a disaster.

Pushing your nerves back down, you made sure you were ready for your stream, excited for the news you were about to drop on your viewers. You were needing a little extra cash due to some unfortunate car trouble, and you’d figured out a way to make up what you needed in record time.

“Hey everyone, welcome!” You smiled at the camera, waving your fingers. “Thanks for coming! I see a lot of familiar names here tonight. Hi Mindfucker, Dynamight, RedDaddy, Tapeman, LightningMcQueen!”

LightningMcQueen: Hey, beautiful! I’ve been looking forward to this all week.

Dynamight: Chill out, McQueen, you look desperate.

RedDaddy: Be nice, Dynamight. Hi, Neko!

Dynamight: Fuck off, Shittyhair.

Mindfucker: How’s your cat, Neko?

“Be good, Dynamight. You’re lucky I know you don’t mean that!” You giggled at the antics of your regulars, smiling at the question about your cat. “Ichigo is doing good, Mindfucker, thanks for asking! I’ll bring her on camera after the show if you want to say hi!”

Minfucker just sent a cat emoji and you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m beginning to think that you’re just here for Ichigo and not me.”

The chat went crazy with people denying it, telling you how much they loved watching you every week. You lit up, feeling more excited about your news.

“So I have something I want to discuss before we get started today. I’ve decided I want to try out doing some private shows, so I’m going to be offering up a few spots. I’m going to give some of my longest and most frequent supporters a shot first, and if all goes well, then I’ll open them up to the rest of you! I’ll be adding a signup link at the bottom of my page after tonight’s stream, so if you’re interested you can apply and I’ll pick a few of you and we’ll work out a schedule! How does that sound?”

Dynamight: McQueen already has his credit card ready I bet.

“Aw, you don’t want to play with me, Dynamight?” You teased, giving the camera your best pout.

Dynamight: You couldn’t handle me, Princess.

LightningMcQueen: Hush. You’re a bottom, Dyna.

Dynamight: Die you fucking extra.

LightningMcQueen: Love you too, blasty.

“I was going to let you pick the toy today, Dynamight, but if you can’t behave then I’m just going to have to let someone else have a turn.” You gave the camera a disapproving look, frowning. You’d picked up that these guys were friends, so you knew they were just messing with each other.

A donation popped up from Dynamight with a comment attached.

Let McQueen choose this time, babe.

“It looks like Dynamight is going to let you choose, McQueen. Which one?” You pulled over the box you kept your toys in and showed it to the camera. “Pick a color.”

LightningMcQueen: Yellow

You pulled the yellow silicone out of the box and showed it to the chat, smirking. “I call this one Chargebolt because it’s the same color as his hair. Are you sure this is the one you want me to use?”

When your stream ended, Denki leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath. The fact that he’d watched you fuck yourself with a dildo that you’d named after him was the hottest thing he could have imagined. He was jealous of that piece of bright yellow silicone more than he should be. He’d still enjoyed it, if the mess across his abs and chest were any indication.

He cleaned himself up and pulled on a shirt, clicking on the link for the private show signup. It was pretty straightforward, listing the price and how long the show would be, and asking for his username and what he would be interested in doing or seeing and what day would work best.

Staring at the form for a moment, he contemplated his options. He could sign up with his LightningMcQueen account, and he might have a chance. He was the first one out of his friends to find your channel one night when he was bored and horny. Then he’d shown it to Hitoshi and then shared your info with Eijirou, Katsuki, and Hanta. He would be considered one of the longest and loyal viewers like you had said.

However, if you got a request from Chargebolt? What would you do? Would you ignore it?

“Toshi!” He called out, knowing his roommate would hear him without him having to get up. “I’m having a crisis!”

The door opened, and the purple-haired man stood in the doorway. “I am not prepared to handle your bi panic right now, Denki.”

“Are you going to put in for a private show from Neko?” Denki pushed on, ignoring his friend’s exasperation.

“I spoke that into existence last week, you know. You’re welcome.”

Flopping back in his chair, Denki closed his eyes. “Should I send in the request with this account or with the Chargebolt one?”

Hitoshi shrugged, watching their cat Sashimi wander into the room. “You’ve wanted to talk to her for ages, man. You could have messaged her forever ago and you wouldn’t be playing this game with her. Sign up with your actual account.”

“I mean, she must think I’m cute, right? Otherwise, she wouldn’t watch.” He sat up, logging out of his secondary account and into his main one. He had a few unread DM’s, so he clicked, his breath catching in his throat. “Dude, look.”

There was a message from you, short but sweet.

Hi, Chargebolt. I don’t know if you saw the stream today, but you should check it out if you haven’t. I left it up for you.”

“She wants you to see her use that dildo she named after you.” Hitoshi patted his shoulder, and then bent down to pick up Sashimi. “I signed up but I told her I just wanted to have a date with her cat. She probably won’t pick me.”

“She will, she loves cats.” Denki clicked on your page and scrolled down to the bottom where the signup was again, letting it populate his main account in the information, and writing ‘any day except Thursday’ in the section for the time that worked for him. “I’m going to get this girl to date me, just you watch.”

Snorting, his roommate closed the door behind him as he left. “I believe in you, Pikachu.”

Once his request was submitted, he went back to his DM’s and sent you a message back.

“I was there, Neko. I never miss a stream. I submitted for a private show, so I hope you’ll pick me. I’ve been one of your viewers since the beginning, you know.”

---

In your head, you tried to plan what you would say once you were face to face (via camera) with the one and only Chargebolt. Everything your brain seemed to come up with fell short. What did you say to this guy, who you’d been simping over for over 9 months, who lit up your screen every Thursday with terrible puns and panty-dropping smiles? You knew exactly what he looked like and sounded like when he came. It was a strange thing to think that you knew that but you’d never actually spoken to him before.

It made you feel a little better when you realized he knew just as much about you. That he watched you fuck yourself on a dildo you’d named after him, and then spent the rest of the stream showing off your fluffy white cat Ichigo.

It was time to put on your big girl panties. You could do this.

Chargebolt had been one of the few that you’d chosen to do these shows with. He was also the last one. You’d met with 4 others, the ones who were the most active in your chat, the ones you assumed were actually friends.

Your first one was with Tapeman, who asked you to call him Sero. He was cute, with the widest, prettiest smile you’d ever seen. He made you laugh, and called you beautiful, and spoke to you in Spanish. You didn’t feel uncomfortable once with him, and the experience gave you hope that the rest would be just as nice.

Mindfucker was next, whose name was Shinsou and lowkey your favorite one. He didn’t want anything sexual at all, which surprised you. You sat with him and drank tea and you got to meet his two fur children, Miso and Sashimi, while he told you about his roommate. You let him admire Ichigo, and talked about music. He was sarcastic, but not in a mean way, and you were pretty sure he was going to be your new best friend.

RedDaddy and Dynamight had asked to do theirs together since they were dating. You wanted to question why they both watched your stream but RedDaddy, who was actually named Kirishima, answered it for you.

“We’re both bi, and we think you’re cute!”

“Yeah, plus McQueen has a thing for you so we like to be in the chat to help him out.” Dynamite, aka Bakugou, added in his gruff voice, folding his arms across his chest.

“Aw, that’s sweet!” You smiled at them. “He didn’t request a private show though, so I guess he doesn’t like me that much.”

Bakugou coughed and Kirishima grinned. “Maybe he was nervous! I’m sure you’ll meet him in one of these someday!”

“Enough about that dumbass.” Bakugou leaned forward, his hand on Kirishima’s knee. “Give us a show and we’ll give you one in return. Use that orange and green one for me, Princess.”

And give you a show they did. You got lost in how they looked at each other while they jerked each other off, and you were pretty sure they forgot you were even there at some point. When it was over, you suggested that they start their own channel.

Bakugou scoffed, but you could tell he was blushing a bit.

“I don’t know, Neko. I don’t think I could share him with anyone else. Except you, you’re the exception.” Kirishima grinned, winking at you.

But now it was Chargebolt’s turn. You made sure you had everything you needed, making sure Ichigo was out of the room, and then signed into your account.

Chargebolt was online, so you made the private room and sent him the request. You felt like you were shaking, and you checked yourself in the camera to make sure you didn’t look like a wreck.

You barely had time to breathe before he entered the chat, his camera screen coming to life and showing you his smiling face. You melted a bit, biting your lip, gazing at how attractive he was.

“Hey, Neko!” Chargebolt was as vibrant as ever, tucking his hair behind his ears, the black lightning bolt in his hair dark against the bright yellow of the rest of it.

“It’s nice to see you, Chargebolt.” You tried to relax, rolling your shoulders back. “It’s kind of weird knowing you can see me too.”

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. You tried not to stare at his arms in the tank top he was wearing. Chargebolt had a small frame, but his muscles were defined. You’d seen him plow through an entire bag of chips on stream once, without pausing to breathe, so you assumed he must be one of those people with amazing metabolism that you envied. “You can call me Denki if you want, kitten.”

You choked on air at the nickname, trying to compose yourself. “Kitten?”

“Well, Neko means cat, doesn’t it?” He raised an eyebrow. “I won’t call you that if you don’t like it.”

“No!” You practically shouted. “No, I mean, it’s fine. I like it.”

“Sweet.” He grinned. “Man, I’ve wanted to get you alone like this for so long, and now I’m just feeling really nervous.”

“You’re nervous?” You were surprised. The always cool but super dorky Chargebolt was nervous because of you? “So am I.”

Chargebolt- sorry, Denki, rested his elbow on the desk, propping his head in his hand. “Well, glad to know I’m not the only disaster here. I’ve been trying to get the courage to talk to you for months, and then finally Hitoshi got me to talk about you on stream a few weeks ago, and now here we are.”

“Who’s Hitoshi? One of your regulars?” Knowing that you weren’t the only one who was sweating bullets had you relaxing a bit.

“Oh yeah, Mindfucker! You know him right? He did a thing with you the other day, didn’t he?”

Eyes wide, you stared at him. “Shinsou?”

“Yeah, that’s my best friend and my roommate. He said he showed you the cats.” He shrugged. “You picked all my friends for your private shows. Sero, Kiri, Bakugou, Shinsou.” He paused, smirking. “I forgot that you don’t know that I’m LightningMcQueen.”

“That’s you? I was wondering why they didn’t send me a request, but it all makes sense now.”

Denki shot you finger guns and winked. “Kachow!”

“Oh god, stop it.” You rolled your eyes.

He chuckled, grinning at you. “So, did Shinsou talk about me?”

You giggled, remembering back. “He told me a story about how his roommate mistook a fuzzball for a spider and spent the afternoon sitting on a table waiting for him to come home and kill it.”

“It looked like one of those freaky poisonous ones from where I was sitting. I was afraid to let it out of my sight in case it got away and then multiplied and killed me in my sleep or something.” He took a deep breath. “Spiders are terrifying.”

This man was amazing. “You are everything I always thought you’d be, you know that?”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He sighed. “You have to have some kind of embarrassing story to tell me so I don’t feel like a fool. You’ve got to make it even.”

“One year my dad hired a clown to come to my birthday party. He walked in the front door and I jetted out the back door and hid in the garden until he left. Clowns are just as terrifying as spiders.”

Chargebolt laughed, and the sound made your stomach do a somersault. It was just as bright and happy as he was. “That is the cutest shit I’ve ever heard!”

“I’m glad my childhood trauma is amusing you.” You deadpanned, trying to keep the smile off your face.

“Aw, don’t be like that kitten! I’m glad we can bond over our irrational fears like this, you know?” He

You shivered happily. “Okay, okay.” You cleared your throat. “So, you didn’t write anything down here for what you wanted out of our chat today.”

“Oh, okay, down to business then.” He sat up straight. “Well, I wanted to tell you myself instead of submitting it on the form.”

Intrigued, you raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t want to give me a chance to back out?”

Snorting, and shook his head. “Nah, I think you’ll like it, kitten.” He folded his hands behind his head. “I want you to tell me what to do. I’m at your mercy.”

Swallowing thickly, you blinked at him. That was...really hot. “You like being told what to do?”

“I would love nothing more for you to pull my hair and peg me within an inch of my life while calling me your little cock slut.” He stared at you with an eyebrow raised, looking pleased with himself when he saw your expression.

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, right? I mean, I’m a switch, I’d do the same to you if you asked. But we can save that for next time.” He smirked. “So, you down?”

Next time? This man was going to kill you. “Take off your shirt, Denki.”

“Fuck yes.” He groaned, reaching behind him and tugging the garment over his head.

His chest and abs came into view, and you let your eyes linger on the barbells through his nipples. “Pants too.”

He pushed his chair away from his desk and shimmied out of his shorts, kicking them to the side. You gazed at him in his blue boxer briefs, eyes lingering on his thin waist, strong thighs, and the outline of his cock. He was a sight to behold, honestly.

You held the fangirling back, leaning forward to get a better look at him. “Do you have any toys, Denki?”

“Of course, Kitten.” He moved out of view for a moment, coming back with a box.

“Let me see.” He tilted the box towards the camera, your eyes flitting over the different colors and shapes inside. “The pink one.”

“Okay, hang on, let me-” He cut off, standing up and throwing the pink toy on the bed. He picked up the laptop and moved it, laying down beside it and angling the camera so you could see what he was doing.

“Did you stretch yourself, baby?”

He made a noise that sounded like a whine in the back of his throat at the pet name, obviously pleased by it. “Yeah, of course I did.” He glanced at the screen. “You should, uh, take your shirt off too.”

“I thought you wanted me to tell you what to do, not the other way around.” Teasing him, you crossed your arms over your chest.

He pouted slightly. “I’ve been good so far though, right?”

“All you’ve done is take off two items of clothing and move to the bed. You’re gonna have to work harder than that!”

Huffing, he lifted his ass off the bed and tugged his underwear down his legs, kicking them off, his hand already moving to wrap around his already hard cock.

“Did I say you could touch yourself, Denki?” It was getting hard to keep up the stern act you were putting on, but you knew it was what he wanted. You wanted to watch him touch himself, watch the way his eyes fluttered closed when his thumb brushed over the leaking head of his cock, and the way he would bite his lip when he moved his wrist a certain way.

You could be patient though, so you continued.

“If I was there right now, what would you want me to do first?”

He stilled, blinking at you a few times. “I would want your mouth first, I think.”

Humming, you sat back, pulling your shirt over your head, letting him admire the lacey purple bra covering your chest. “You’d want my mouth on your cock? Trace my tongue along that vein along the underside and suck on the head a little?”

Denki groaned, closing his eyes, his grip visibly tightening around his shaft. He looked like he was trying not to get worked up too fast. You were amazed at how your words were affecting him, so you pressed on.

“I’d take you all the way down until I was choking on it, and I’d let you hold onto my hair and fuck my face. God, you don’t know how many times I've dreamed about doing that for you. What would you say to that?”

The blush spreading down his neck and chest made him look so pretty. “Ugh, fuck kitten, you’re killing me.” He swallowed hard, opening his eyes to look at you again. “I’d tell you how good you made me feel, but I wouldn’t let you finish me off that way.”

“Oh no? Tell me what else you’d do.” You took the opportunity to move to the bed yourself, pulling off your leggings and panties all at once.

Eyes glued to you while you unclipped your bra and threw it across the room, he continued. “Fuck, um, I would...god, you’re beautiful.”

Flushing at the compliment, you looked down shyly, breaking character. “I’ve heard you say that before and I still don’t believe it.”

Denki scoffed. “If you need a daily reminder, I’d be happy to be the one to tell you, kitten.” You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and it made your heart do a little flip. “I might seem like a dumbass but I’m using this camboy money to pay off my student loans for my masters in English lit so I can quote you entire sonnets from Shakespeare without hesitation if that will help you believe me.”

Your eyebrows shot up, impressed. Realizing you’d ruined the moment, you sighed, covering your eyes with your hand. “I’m sorry, I’m crap at this. I really just want to watch you cum.”

Chuckling, you heard him shifting on the bed. “Okay, how about this? Forget the toys. Just close your eyes and listen to me.”

“Okay.”

“If you were here with me right now, just like that, I’d spend so much time exploring every inch of you with my tongue. I’d start with your lips, your jaw, your neck. Collarbones, shoulders, your chest, those cute nipples-”

“How are nipples cute?” You interrupted with a snort.

You could hear him trying not to laugh, his voice pitched a bit higher. “Shh, don’t ruin it.”

“I think you just did when you said ‘cute nipples’.” You’d never had this much fun with someone in a situation like this. “If I had a dick, my boner would have just died.”

Denki wheezed, and you opened your eyes to look over at him. He was gazing back at you, his eyes bright as he laughed into his palm. “God, I like you so much, kitten.”

Your grin softened, your heart pounding at his words. “Me too, Denki.”

#kaminari denki #kaminari denki x reader #kaminari denki smut #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #denki kaminari smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #kingexpl0sionmurder writes #bnharem collab

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Note

hi! if requests are open for bucky, i like the concept of him being unsure of himself with reader (not a superhero/avenger, maybe just a mutual friend) and pining after them compared to how easy it was to get dates in the 40s. thank you!

tfatws revived my love for bucky im not ashamed

A/N: tfatws has definitely done the same for me! no shame whatsoever!

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You tore your gaze off of the television before you turned to look at Bucky. His blue eyed stare was trained on you, intense and unwavering. Sometimes it had managed to unnerve you, but you’d gotten used to it over the year you’d known him. He was more than just silent...he was calculating, but it never felt wrong. Waving your hand in front of his face you made a small sound to get his attention.

“Bucky?” you whispered his name softly and that seemed to snap him back into attention as he opened and closed his mouth a few times. Even in the dim lighting of the room you could see that a warm flush of red had crept up in his cheeks, “everything alright?”

“Y-yeah,” he shook his head, more at himself than anything else, a self-annoyed look crossing his features, “spaced out for a minute. What were you saying?”

“I wasn’t saying anything,” you couldn’t help but laugh at him, watching his features soften when he realized you weren’t going to chastise him for zoning out, “I for one was watching the movie, which is more than I can say for you - you should love the Hobbit if you actually read the book when it first came out. And these movies are actually good. Pay attention, Bucky!”

You grabbed one of the pillows off of your couch and lobbed it at his head; but he was quicker, reflexes still sharp and honed after all this time. The corners of his mouth pulled into a smirk as he held the pillow before determining whether or not to throw it back at you. Immediately sensing what he was doing, you shook your head and jumped up, ducking behind the couch.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart, why are you hiding?” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as you peeked up at him. The nickname rolled easily off his tongue as it caused a shudder to run down your spine. You knew it meant nothing, that it was just something he tended to call people; it was definitely just a thing. It was nothing particularly about you or targeted at you but you couldn’t help but pause. You knew that you wouldn’t have minded if he called you that intentionally. But that could never, ever happen. This was Bucky after all and you were just...you.

“I know your game, Barnes,” you grinned at him, deciding to let the nickname slide, “I’ll call it a truce and we can go to your favorite place to get some dinner. I’ll pay! I’m waving my proverbial white flag.”

“Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse,” he set the pillow back down on the couch as he stood up and raised his hands in surrender. Slowly you raised to your full height, but kept a wary eye on your best friend, “I keep my promises, you know that.”

“Fine,” you agreed as you grinned at him. Bucky’s breath hitched in his throat as he looked you over and he felt his knees go weak momentarily. He could stare at your smile for hours, “get your jacket and let’s go old man.”

He scoffed in jest as you grabbed your shoulders and jacket off the coat rock and motioned for him to follow, “I’m not that old-”

“106? Isn’t that old?” you raised an eyebrow, barely able to contain your giggles as he rolled his eyes dramatically, “just kidding, Bucky. You know I just love teasing you.”

“I am in my 30s,..technically, thank you very much,” he insisted as he slipped on his shoes and you handed him the leather jacket, “don’t push your luck, kid.”

“See,” you grabbed the keys and he opened the door, ushering you out with a hand on the small of your back, “I swear Bucky Barnes, you’ve been an old man since you were a kid. Now let’s go! There’s pancakes with my name on them waiting.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Dinner with Bucky was easy...then again, everything with Bucky was easy. Every time you were with him, things just felt natural and normal, conversation and everything flowed freely. You’d met Bucky completely by chance, running into him, quite literally, on the street as you walked out of your favorite coffee shop and proceeded to spill coffee over both of you. He’d been apologetic, claiming it was his fault, but you’d been insistent that it was yours. One thing had led to another and soon enough you became inseparable friends.

Much to his surprise, and delight, you’d never treated Bucky as anything but...Bucky. That’s how you’d met him and that’s all he was to you. Bucky. Of course, he was much more than a friend, at least in your mind, but you weren’t about to divulge that little piece of information. At least not yet. Maybe one day...or not. Probably not. No. You weren’t about to make a fool out of yourself and confess your feelings for a man that saw you as nothing but a friend.

Bucky, always alert and cunning, had noticed you’d become quiet throughout dinner as you both ate in silence. Normally he wouldn’t question it, but he knew your tells and could easily read you by this point and knew that something was up.

“What?” he gently nudged your foot with his and you snapped back into attention as you looked at him, “you’re awfully deep in thought for someone that just wanted some pancakes.”

“It’s nothing,” you insisted nervously, swallowing your bite down and clearing your throat, “just...tired?”

“Mhmm,” he wasn’t going to push you, know you’d come around eventually, “whatever you say, sweetheart.”

There it was again, and you felt a warmth flush over your face as you focused your attention on the syrupy mess on your plate. It was silent for a few more minutes before you noticed a few women sitting at the diner’s counter, giggling among themselves as they cast longing glances at Bucky. Something in your stomach twisted and your heart constricted. Of course they were looking at him, women often did. And you couldn’t blame them; Bucky was handsome in almost every way, and you yearned after him as well. But unlike most other people, you weren’t about to be so obvious about it.

“Looks like you have a little fanclub,” you murmured softly under your breath as you lightly motioned towards them women. Bucky slyly followed your gaze and studied the newcomers and huffed in annoyance. He abhorred any sort of extra attention, especially when it came from people that only liked him because of his looks. Besides that, it often didn’t last terribly long; usually people realized who he was - used to be - and that scared them right off.

“They’ll leave soon enough,” he shrugged them off before turning his attention back to you, “besides, I-I’m not interested. It’s not like it used to be…”

“Back when?” you quickly snorted in amusement as he jokingly glared at you, “back in your day? I bet you had them all over you then too.”

“Well, it certainly was easier,” he admitted as he played with the straw in his almost empty milkshake, “nowadays people are harder to read. They all either want one thing, or they just stick around until they find someone else. It’s not worth it...and honestly, now one has caught my eye.”

“No one?” you asked as you pushed your last bite around the plate, letting the fluffy pancake soak up the syrup, “I find that hard to believe, even for you, Buck. Everyone has someone they’re interested in.”

“Huh,” he mused as drained the last of the milkshake, “well then, is there someone that has captured your interest?”

“I...no, not really,” you lied, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the lie. Instead he immediately made a sound of small disbelief; you should haven’t even bothered to try and lie to him. He could see right through you, “there’s nobody.”

“I thought you said everyone has someone that they’re interested in?” oh yeah, he definitely wasn’t going to let this go at all.

“Except me.”

“I find that doubtful.”

“What about you then, Bucky Barnes?” you decided to deflect by throwing the question right back at him, “has anyone captured your interest?”

Bucky paused for a moment, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he mulled over his next words carefully, “yes. There is someone.”

“O-oh,” you stammered as his gaze shifted back to you, blue eyes keenly studied your features, “you gonna tell me who it is?”

“Well,” he started slowly, tapping his fingers on the table as he leaned towards, "there is someone, but I don't know if she knows or thinks of me as more than a friend, but god, I hope she does. She's been my friend for a while now and I kind of want to ask her on a date, a proper date, but don't quite know how."

"Do you...do you think she could feel the same about you?" butterflies erupted in your stomach as you tried to calm the rapid beating of your heart. Surely he couldn't mean you. But then...why was a light flush of pink in his cheeks? Why was he watching you so intently?

"I don't know," he confessed with a light shrug as he sat back in the booth, an arm extended over the back, the picture of ease, "sometimes I think she might, but I don't want to think she does and mess anything up. I'd rather keep her as a friend than lose her."

"I guess you won't know unless you ask her…" you were positive that he could hear your heart beating rapidly, "you never know until you try. I have a feeling she won't turn you down if you ask...just a hunch…"

"Hmm…" a smile, dazzling and brilliant, grazed his features, "well then sweet-"

"Excuse me," one of the girls from the counter had approached your table and was leaning into Bucky, with her back to you. She was twirling her hair around her finger as she offered him her most dazzling smile. She was definitely beautiful and you really had nothing to base your annoyance off of, but she rubbed you the wrong way, "I was just wondering if you'd-"

"Hi, excuse me?" you couldn't help yourself as you gently tapped her arm. Bucky raised an eyebrow as she gave her a surprised look on her face, "I don't want to interrupt but he's mine. And if you don't mind...we're on a date."

"O-oh," her eyes widened as she looked between you and Bucky, who was currently sporting the most shit eating grin, "I didn't know. Sorry…"

She scurried back to her friends as you looked back down at your plate. Bucky cleared his throat as he leaned in, hardly believing what had happened. You could feel his curious blue eyes on you, searing and questioning.

"So she feels the same way or she's a good liar," he said softly as you chanced a glance, biting on your lip, "I'm yours, huh?"

"Shut up," you groaned, "it was to get her away from you, so you're welcome."

"Mhmm…" god that smile made you want to melt.

"Bucky!"

"Thank you," he bowed his head slightly, "what are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Nothing...why?"

"Can I take you on a date?" he asked as you looked at him in surprise, wide doe eyes meeting his, "a proper date?"

"I...yeah, Bucky. I'd like that a lot," you agreed softly, "see...I told you she won't turn you down."

"Guess you were right," he was causal, but inside his heart was fit to burst as he reached across the table and gently put his hand on top of yours, "I'm already hers, but she's my girl too."

Yeah. You could definitely get used to that.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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vanillann · 4 years ago

Text

watch my back (e.p.)

edmund pevensie x gender neutral!reader

a/n: i miss writing for narnia

warning: swearing, mentions of inquiries and blood, minor angst

word count: 1.6k

“You look idiotic.”

Edmund stopped for a second from climbing on the Gryphon, looking over his shoulder at me with a pout.

“Look who’s talking, that battle-ax looks like an extra leg,” his eyes pointed to the large battle-ax I had at my side, not the one had years ago but I would do.

I was about to speak up but Peter light shoved my shoulder, telling me to be quiet and get on the Gryphon behind Edmund.

“Why can’t I have my own?” I turned to Peter, the silence around us as I begged him for my own way in and out of the castle.

“You know the rules, nobody goes in alone.” I rolled my eyes, turning on my heels to get behind Edmund. I didn’t want to wrap my arms around him, I had been avoiding it since I got on, but once Peter signaled us to head in I wobbled on the back. Without much thought I wrapped my arms around his waist, trying my best not to look down at the ground.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“Yes Edmund, it’s all I’ve wanted since I met you.”

I slowly saw our spot opened for landing, Edmund swinging his legs around before he had landed.

“What are you doing?” I whispered-yelled into his ear, watching as he was about to jump for a few feet in the air.

“Jumping,” he looked over his shoulder at me, shrugged once before he pushed off, falling to land on the tower of the castle below.

The Gryphon slowly descended to the tower, like it was supposed to, and waited a few minutes for me to get off before I walked over to Edmund, hitting him in the side with the handle of my axe.

“That wasn’t the plan.”

“You weren’t part of the plan either, but here you are,” he gave a sarcastic smile, looking over his shoulder before pulling the flashlight out his pocket.

“Lucy didn’t need me, she told me I was more useful here.”

I was going to actually kill him if he questioned me again in such a way, I was already pissed he tried to make me stay at the How, saying I wasn’t prepared enough for a battle like this.

“Yes, because you look so useful right about now,” Edmund spoke over his shoulder, flashing the light a few times before loud footprints came around our corner. I saw the guard come for the other side, his sword at the ready when he neared us.

Edmund hand was on his sword but I was faster, barely flinching as I took the butt of my axe and ran it into his gut, sending him over the edge of the towers

I raised my eyebrows, my eyes never left Edmund the entire time.

“Not useful?”

Edmund rolled his eyes, both of us moving to look down at the gate that was now slowly opening and the few Narinans that had made it through already.

“We shouldn’t be here,” I spoke under my breath, turning from the scene and slowly pacing the tower around us, looking down the side every few seconds.

“Peter said-“

“Peter said this, Peter said that,” I mocked Edmund, walking to the door and shutting the lock for extra measure.

“Okay what do you think we should have done then?” Edmund turned around, leaning on the stone as he crossed his arms and looked at me.

“We should have been prepared for the real battle, the one that’s going to happen soon. All we’re doing here is losing the troops we needed the most.”

Edmund said nothing for a few moments, watching me as I spun around looking up at the night sky.

“That is why you were in charge of the justice in Narnia and not the battle plans,” Edmund spoke up finally, rolling his eyes at me.

“Oh don’t act like I didn’t cause violence to drop below 1% back then,” I stopped pacing, looking at him with my eyebrow raised.

“Pure lucky.”

I gave up the argument when I heard loud banging on the door I had locked, my hand going to my battle axe immediately.

“Shit,” Edmund pulled at his sword, walking to stand beside me as we watched the wooden door move slightly, their body colliding with it to cause little chips to fall off.

“What happened to ‘nobody will even know we were here’ plan?”

“Shut up.”

The door swung open, the log they had used to split it open fell to the floor as many men decked out in battle armor ran in through the now open door.

“I hope you know how to use that thing properly,” Edmund looked down at my ax that was held tightly in my hands.

“I hope you know how to use that, properly,” I flick the top of his head, letting my hand rest back on the battle axe and holding in higher.

This was war now.

I slashed at each person that ran at us, Edmund taking the right while I took the left. Arrows flew around us and I cursed at the plan going sideways so quickly. A sword almost slashed my breast-plate but I fell. back on to the wall, looking down at a battle of their own raged on.

“I knew this was a bad idea!”

Edmund yelled out, looking over the side at something when a man held his sword over his head and preparing to swing down. I felt around in my pocket, finding a small dagger Lucy had gifted me and threw my arm back as hard as possible. The knife laided in the back of his neck, Edmund spinning around just in time for blood to splash across his face.

“Pay attention idiot!”

“I dropped the light!”

I hurried to his side, looking over the edge at the flashlight that laid helplessly over edge.

“How do you make everything worse?”

“It’s your bad luck,” he swung his feet over the edge and jumped down to the landing. I prepared to do the same when I felt a stabbing pain reib throughout my body. Looking down I spotted the sword lodged under my arm-pit, the blood already staining the chain as a wicked laugh sounded behind me.

My body was numb, falling from the edge to the landing Edmund had fallen on. I was falling, falling, falling.

“Shit, (Y/N).”

I felt my body land on something but my brain was too fuzzy to focus on that, all I could focus on was the blood on my chin and the stab wound in my side. I saw dark hair and even darker eyes lean over me and I knew it was Edmund.

“Bad luck,” I barely got the words out my mouth before I was coughing more blood up.

“No, no. I take it back, you’re fine,” his words were jumbled and I couldn’t really make sense of them but I felt his fingers run over my chain on the side.

“Falling.”

Everything went black after I heard a battle cry fall from Edmund’s lips.

I heard ‘shh’ and ‘hand me that’ before I even saw anything. The room felt oddly warm but I couldn’t feel the chain I remember Susan helping me put on.

“(Y/N) is going to be fine.”

“They should’ve been here with Lucy!”

“Stop yelling,” my voice was raw and my eyes were still getting used to the bright fire beside me. I spotted a few faces like Lucy and Caspian before I understood where I was.

“Oh God,” Susan grabbed my arm tiger, helping me come down from the ‘just stabbed’ high I was currently on.

“Did we win?”

Silence followed my question, but it was enough of an answer for me.

“You almost died and you’re worried about winning!”

Edmund leaned over me again but this time I could make out his features that still had stained blood and bruises covering him.

“I don’t like getting stabbed for no reason, so yes,” I slowly sat up, leaning against one of the many broken columns in the How.

“Don’t act smart with me!” Edmund waved his finger in my face, as I owed him an apology for getting stabbed, but I had watched his back and he wasn’t watching mine.

“I’m not acting smart, I am smart,” I winked at Peter but he simply shook his head and left the room with everyone else.

How is everyone mad at me for almost dying?

“You stopped breathing in my arms!”

“Bet you enjoyed it,” my voice was pure venom as I spoke through the pain.

“I wish I did but no! I couldn’t see straight and all I wanted to do was leave my army behind to save you!”

His chest was heaving as he watched me, waiting for answers I didn’t have.

“You should’ve told me he was there,” I couldn’t believe I mustered a whisper.

“You think I don’t know that,” his voice was pure hurt as he watched me carefully move, ready for me to collapse again.

I didn’t have many more words as my body was on fire watching him pace the room and whip the blood from his jawline. I never really saw him like this, so honest and angry.

“I’m not letting anyone stab you again.”

The words weren’t for me to hear, his breath was so light I wondered if he could even hear himself.

“I’d hope so.”

He sat beside me, his body calming down as his hand slowly moved closer to mine. I went to move it out the way but he gripped in tight.

“Let me have this (Y/N), please.”

So I let him hold my limp hand in his sweaty one and I suddenly felt like we had skipped multiple stages of whatever we were, but it felt slightly better than dying and I knew that was the only sign I needed to lean in closer to his touch.

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patagucci34 · 4 years ago

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All Three ~ Nolan Patrick

A/N: this is based on the song All Three by Noah Cyrus. Also i have no idea what it’s like to have migraines and I obviously don’t know how it was for Nolan either, my depiction in this is just what I thought would fit with the story.

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, verbal fights, playful arguing

Word count: 6.9k

Nolan Patrick…your best friend, your lover, your kryptonite.

It's the classic friends with benefits scenario…you met when he came to Philly and the rest is history. Your cousin, Meg had been dating Travis Sanheim and she always dragged you along to outings so you had become pretty familiar with the Flyers.

The night you met Nolan you knew you were in for it. You had walked into Scott's apartment trailing behind Meg and Travis and you immediately locked eyes with an unfamiliar face across the room. He immediately blushed and his mouth twitched up a bit in an attempt at a smile. You gave him a small smile back and then were interrupted by a few of the guys giving you hugs.

You were intrigued by the guy across the room, you figured he was a rookie, a super cute rookie, and you really wanted to meet him. It was a little while before you finally did, you wandered into the kitchen with your cousin to grab a drink and then of course you caught up in conversation. But finally, halfway through the night you were being introduced.

"Nolan, Travis, this is y/n, y/n, this Nolan and Travis." Ghosty introduced you to the two rookies. You shook their hands and greeted them sweetly. "It's nice to meet you!"

"It's nice to meet you too." The shorter of the two, Travis, greeted. "So how do you fit in with the mix here?"

"My cousin is dating Travis Sanheim and they drag me along to things like these."

"Oh, sweet. Do you go to school here?"

"Yeah, I'm a sophomore at UPenn."

"Wow, don't you have to be like really smart to go there?"

You blushed at Travis' question. Although you had worked super hard to get into UPenn, you hated when people would make a big deal about it. And you never knew how to answer this question without sounding like an asshole. "Um, I mean I guess so…you have to get good grades and be involved in a lot."

"So, probably no chance for me?" Travis joked.

You giggled and shook your head looking over at Nolan who had been pretty quiet the whole conversation. His cheeks flushed a bit more when you looked at him and he realized that he should probably say something. "What are you studying?"

Your breath hitched upon hearing Nolan's voice. It was deep and a bit raspy and you were even more intrigued. "Environmental Studies." You answered with a small smile.

"Cool, so you like the outdoors?" Travis asked.

"Yeah, I've always lived in the city, but I like to get out whenever I can and go camping and hike and stuff."

Nolan immediately knew that he wanted to get to know her more. He was happy that she said she came to stuff like this a lot and he'd have the opportunity to hang out with her.

Meg came barreling into the three of you, grabbing your arm to pull you towards the pong table.

"Sorry boys, she's needed for beer pong!!" She called over her shoulder and you shot them an apologetic smile as she dragged you across the room.

You and Meg dominated, as always, so you were occupied with beer pong for quite some time. But once you finally got knocked out, you looked around for Nolan because you really wanted to talk to him again. You spotted him in walking towards the kitchen so you decided to follow.

He sensed a presence behind him and smiled when he turned and saw that it was you.

"Beer?" He asked holding a bottle out for you.

You nodded and took it from his hand, "thank you."

He grabbed one for himself and leaned against the counter. "You're quite the player."

You smirked at his compliment, "yeah, we're not all total nerds at UPenn, I've had my practice."

"So, are you from Philly?" He asked after a few moments of silence.

"Yup, born and raised…"

"You say that like it's a bad thing…"

"I love it here, I do, but sometimes I wish I had gone somewhere else for school. Just to experience something else, you know?"

Nolan nodded, "Yeah, I left home when I was a teenager for hockey, it's nice to see what else is out there but there's definitely no place like home."

You smiled at his comment, he was very soothing. You had only known him for a few hours but you already felt super comfortable around him.

You stayed in the kitchen with him and talked for the rest of the night. You hadn't even noticed how late it had gotten until Travis came looking for you telling you that you needed to go because Meg was super wasted.

"Okay, I'll be right out." You assured him so that you could try and invite Nolan back to your place.

"It was really nice talking with you, y/n…" Nolan said.

"Would you maybe wanna come back to my place?" You asked with a smirk.

He smiled and nodded, "let me just go to tell TK."

You walked up to Travis and Meg, "Nolan is gonna come back with me, so you can guys just go home." Travis raised his eyebrows, "are you sure?"

You nodded, "yeah, I'm good. I promise."

"Okay…" Travis said hesitantly. "Text me when you get home please…and if you need anything." Although Nolan seemed like a good guy, Travis still didn't really know him and he was protective of you.

"Will do. Thanks, Travis. Good luck with Meg."

"Yeah, bets she passes out in the Uber…"

You laugh at his prediction and say goodbye to Meg.

You turn around and Nolan is approaching you. "You ready?" You nod in response and go downstairs to wait for your Uber. Conversation seemed to just flow and you talked the whole way to your apartment.

Your roommates thankfully were both in their rooms for the night so you didn't have to deal with any introductions.

"Do you want anything to drink?" You whispered as you entered your apartment.

"I'll have some water if that's okay." You nodded and handed him a water bottle before leading him down the hallway to your room. Unsurprisingly, you talked for a little bit longer before he finally made a move and started kissing you.

You melted into his grasp as soon as you felt his lips on yours. The faint taste of beer on his lips had you desperate for more.

Ever since that first night he had you locked in. You hooked up a few nights a week when he was in Philly. You kept in touch when he was on road trips and when he went back to Winnipeg for the off season, you even visited him there a few times. He had grown to become your best friend. As the two of you got closer it wasn't always about sex, he'd come over after a tough loss, you'd confide in him when you were stressed about school or your friends. But despite how close the two of you were, you never felt your relationship progressed to anything more than friends.

Everyone always thought you two were a couple, he invited you to team events as his plus one, you went on dates, you were exclusive, you argued like you were married…but for some reason you never put the label on it. You didn't totally mind…you were both still very young and not to mention putting a title on it really wouldn't change your relationship at all so you supposed it didn't matter. It would happen when it happens and that was fine… or so you thought.

I really hate when you say you love me, those spoken words are wet concrete

And in your arms I feel so lucky, weightless when you lie on me

It started to really fuck you up when he said those three forbidden words. I love you. Well, in your case it was two, and not as meaningful or intimate as it usually is said for the first time.

You guys had been together, or doing whatever you were doing, for two years. He was leaving for a week long road trip and you were at his place helping him pack before you brought him to the airport.

"Hey, y/n/n?" Nolan called from the bedroom. "Have you seen my black tie?"

"I'm ironing it right now!" You yelled back from the living room.

Once you finished ironing his dress clothes you brought them into his bedroom for him to pack.

"Thank you." He said before giving you a quick kiss and zipping them carefully into his bag.

"Do you want to eat anything before you go?" You asked.

"Can you make me a ham sandwich, please?" He asked with a childish grin.

You chuckled and shook your head, "of course."

You looked at the time and figured he'd need to eat in the car so you packaged it up so he could take it with him. Just as you finished, he emerged from the hallway with his bags in hand. You grabbed him a bottle of water and put it in a bag with his sandwich. You double checked with him that he had everything and you headed down to the car. You drove so Nolan could eat and the rest of the car ride was spent humming along to the music.

"Do you want any help?" You asked as you put the car in the park out front.

"No, I'm all set." He said as he slid out of the car. You got out after him and stood by as he gathered his bags. "Thank you for your help this morning."

"Anytime, Nols. Text me when you land, please."

"Will do," he assured as he leaned down to kiss you, "love you, babe."

You stood there shocked at his words as he walked away seemingly unbothered. True to his word, he had texted you when they landed and texted you throughout the week as normal. You were kind of expecting some sort of explanation, at least an acknowledgement of what he had said but it seemed like it just slipped out and he didn't think anything of it. You however, spent the whole week overthinking and freaking out.

Of course you had thought about if you loved Nolan or not, but you just never thought saying it was on the table because of the status of your relationship. You hoped that when he returned he'd have something to say about it but he didn't. And you were the biggest chicken in the world so you never brought it up. He didn't say it too often, mostly when he'd leave for a road trip or if you weren't going to see each other for a while. You had been trying to build up the courage to say it back but you could never bring yourself to do it.

It didn't seem to bother him that you didn't say it back. Which made you really think it wasn't that big of a deal for him, which is what confused and frustrated you so much. You didn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about it all the time. Was he that dense? Or were you really just overthinking it? It got to the point where you hated to hear him say it. But it didn't matter how much you hated to hear it, because you knew you loved him too.

Nolan was not known for showing much emotion. But you weren't either so it worked out for the two of you. You had other ways of expressing your feelings for each other. For you, it was helping him prepare for road trips, cooking him dinner, rubbing his shoulders, and when they started, helping him through his migraines. For him, it was bringing you coffee and dinner when you were cramming for an exam, always making sure you had Reese's and a bottle Sauvignon Blanc on hand, going for walks with you, taking you to concerts… but your favorite moments with Nolan were when the two of you were lying in bed or on the couch. Not doing anything, maybe you have a show on in the background, but you weren't paying attention to it. Instead you were listening to Nolan's heartbeat, focusing on his soft breathing. You were often under him, him acting as the perfect weighted blanket to help you feel at ease.

But darling if I could, I would fall for someone good, someone good for me

No matter how good the highs are, there of course some lows. Nothing too awful, but with the uncertainties of your relationship comes some strain. Sometimes the time spent together is too much, you feel overwhelmed, Nolan feels too much pressure… and you're never sure if you can work through it. You obviously always have, but each time you have a falling out it feels like the end.

You had been sitting at home all night trying to reach Nolan. He had been having his migraines for a little while now and you were worried because you hadn't heard from him all day and he wasn't the playing in the game. You knew that if it was anything super serious, someone would have contacted you but you couldn't help but worry about him. You finally decided to go over to his place and see if he was okay.

You knocked quietly upon arrival wanting to give him a chance to answer the door. After a few minutes of silence you decided to just go in. His apartment was dark, which wasn't unusual during a bad migraine, so you made your way back to his bedroom. His door was cracked so you pushed it open and saw Nolan lying down on the bed.

"Nolan." You whispered with no response. "Nolan." You whispered a little louder this time. He moved a bit so you knew he heard you but he still didn't say anything. You walked over to the bed and gently sat down next to him. "Are you okay?" He grunted in response, still not what you wanted, but something nonetheless. "I'm sorry for just coming, but I was worried…I haven't heard from you all day."

"You can see that I'm alive so you can leave now."

You sighed at his cold tone, you had heard it before and you knew better than to push so you got up to leave. You stopped before the door and turned towards him, "let me know if you need anything." You didn't wait for a response knowing that you probably wouldn't get one so you left his apartment.

You tried to your best not to be upset by the interaction. You didn't know how Nolan felt in those moments and you wanted to give him what he needed, even if it meant him not wanting you around. It certainly wasn't the first time he shut you out and you knew it wouldn't be the last, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

What made this time different was your interaction the next day. Usually after a night like that, he would apologize for how he treated you and would explain he just really needed to be alone. You of course always forgave him and things went back to normal. But this time, there was no apology, just more hostility.

He had texted you asking if you could bring over something to eat. You asked him what he wanted and he said he didn't care, "get whatever you want."

You decided to just go to the store and get a few different things so he had options. When you showed up to his place he was on the couch with his eyes closed, so you quietly shut the door and put your bags down in the kitchen. You were putting a few things away when you heard him speak. "What did you bring?"

You walked over to him so you didn't have to yell, "I got a few things from the store…I got stuff for sandwiches, frozen pizza, soup…"

"Alright thanks." Was all he said. You stood there for a minute not knowing what to do. "What are you doing?" He asked looking over at you.

"I, um, well…" you fumbled out, taken aback by his tone, "do you want me to make something for you?"

"Just make me a sandwich I guess."

You nodded and walked away without another word.

A few minutes later, you brought his sandwich to him on a plate and set it down a little harder than you probably should have. But you were starting to get upset so you didn't really care. He glared at you in response but thanked you as he sat up and grabbed it. You walked back into the kitchen and put everything away.

"I'm gonna go, I guess. Let me know when you're feeling better." You said as he walked by him to put your coat on.

"Why are you leaving?"

"Well it's clear you're still not doing well, so I'm just gonna leave you alone." "I never told you that you needed to leave." "You didn't have to, Nolan." "What's your problem?" "I don't want to fight, especially if you’re still not feeling good, so I'm just gonna go."

"Why do we need to fight? I just asked you a question."

"Really? 'What’s your problem?' isn't exactly an innocent question."

"Well I don't really understand why you've got such an attitude." "I'm trying not to lose my patience Nolan, but you're making it really difficult." "Why?!" he asked starting to raise his voice, "What did I do?" "You're kind of treating me like shit, Nolan. I'm sorry that you had a bad migraine yesterday, and I'm sorry if I made it worse by coming here last night, but I was worried. I understand it's hard for you, but I hadn't heard from you all day. You usually let me in and help you through them and it’s fine if that's not what you want or need but you don't get to be a dick to me about it. You asked me to bring you food, I did, and you're still being rude to me. I don't mind being here Nols, I want to be here, but if you're going to act like this I'm not interested."

"You have no idea how hard it is for me, y/n," he yelled at you, "I didn't ask you to come over last night, I'm sorry you were worried but I can't put my migraine on hold just to make you feel better."

"I know that, Nolan! That's why I left once I saw that you were okay! But you were obviously okay enough this morning to text me asking for food, and you're obviously okay enough right now to be yelling at me! I know that I don't know how hard it is for you, but I'm doing my best to be here for you and support you however I can. I know that you can't always text me or call me, and that's fine. But the way you're treating me right now is not okay." "You don't have to be here for me all the time. You didn't have to bring me food today if you really didn't want to. You can say no, y/n, you don't owe me anything."

You were hurt by his words but you tried your best not to show it. "I wanted to bring you food because I care about you! I want to be here for you! It just doesn't seem like you want me here. You've been nothing but cold to me since you texted me this morning! I don't mind doing these things for you, Nol, but you could at least act grateful."

"Whatever, y/n/n. Just go I guess. I'm not arguing with you anymore."

You opened your mouth but you didn't know what you would even say, so you put your coat on and left.

It had been a few days since your fight and you hadn't spoken to him at all. It was awful timing because you had midterms coming up and you were too distracted to study.

You were currently trying to force your way through a study guide when you got a call from Meg. You sighed and answered the phone. "Hey, Meg."

"Hey, y/n/n, what's up?" "Trying to study…what about you?" "You're not going to the game tonight?"

"No, I really need to study." "But I thought you were going…?" "Yeah, well plans change. I can't go anymore." You heard some mumbling in the background, which you assumed was Travis. A few moments later Meg spoke up again.

"Are you and Nolan fighting?"

You rolled your eyes and sighed, "We had a pretty big fight the other day and I haven't talked to him since. But regardless, I need to study. I have midterms next week."

"Travis said Nolan has been grumpier than usual. What did you fight about?"

"His migraines I guess??? I don't even know, I tried standing up for myself but he wasn't having it so I left."

"You haven't talked at all since?" "Nope, not a word." "Are you okay?" "I don't know, not really honestly. But I really can't dwell on it right now because I need to focus on studying." "And how is that going for you?" "Not very well." "Okay, so why don't you come over and we can talk about it. If you're not studying anyway it might help to get things off your chest."

You sighed as you thought about it, knowing that she was right you agreed and got your things together to go over there.

She had a glass of wine waiting for you and you sat down and told her everything.

"Okay, well you were right to stand up yourself. You've done a lot for him recently and you don't deserve to be treated that way."

"Yeah, but he's right, I didn't have to do any of it for him. He didn't ask, I just did it." "Okay so you didn't have to, but despite your weird ass relationship, it's not that crazy that you did. Everything you've done for Nolan I would do for Travis in a heartbeat. Yeah, we're engaged and it's a little different, but you and Nolan have something really special. It's beyond me and everyone in the world for that matter, why you two don't just get over yourselves and date officially. You've worked through fights in the past, you'll work through this too." "But they've never been this big before. And I don't like that it was about his migraines. Even if he apologizes who's to say that he won't act like this again. I feel like I can't fault him for it because it's his way of dealing with them. But I also know that I don't deserve to be treated that way so I just feel like we're not meant to be." "Y/n, that's bullshit and you know it. You and Nolan are like, the perfect match. It's been a few days, I'm sure he's feeling better, you've both calmed down, so sit down and talk about it. You know you're not going to be able to study until you do."

You sighed knowing that she was right, "okay…yeah you're right. I'll text him."

You: Hey, Nol.

You relaxed into the couch, feeling a sense of relief now that you've had some sort of contact. You took a few sips of wine as you waited, but thankfully it wasn't too long.

Nolan: Hey, y/n/n…

You: Can we talk?

Nolan: Yeah, wanna come over after the game?

You: Yeah, just text me when you get home.

Nolan: You're not coming to the game?

You: I wasn't going to…I really need to study.

Nolan: Oh, okay. I guess I'll see you later.

You decided not to respond, you still weren't super happy with him, so you didn't think you needed to defend your decision.

"Alright, I'm going over there to talk after the game." You updated Meg.

"Good. So you'll get ready with me???" She asked hopefully.

"Sorry, Meg. I do really need to try and study. I'm gonna head out."

"Fine," she pouted, "but you better let me know how it goes tonight!!!"

"I will, bye Meg."

Between having the game on in the background and thinking about what you were going to say, you weren't able to get much studying done. But you still tried your hardest until you received a text from Nolan telling you that he was leaving the arena.

You were hoping he would be in an okay mood…they won the game but Nolan didn't play. You didn't think he was having a migraine, it was probably more of a precaution, but nonetheless he'd be upset that he wasn't playing.

When you got to Nolan's he was sitting on the couch with two glasses of water in front of him. You smiled at the gesture, although it quickly faded when you remembered why you were even here. He stood up to greet you and you went and sat next to him on the couch.

"That was a good game…"

"You watched?" "Of course."

Nolan nodded, "I just wish I could have played…"

You smiled sadly, "I know, I'm sorry, Nols. Not feeling good?" He sighed and leaned back, "I don't know, I mean, I feel like I could have played, but it's just not worth the risk of bringing one on…"

You sat in silence for a little bit, neither of you knowing where to start. Just as you were about to speak up, Nolan beat you to it. "I'm really sorry for the way I treated you the other day. I know that you were just trying to help and I know that you don't have to do those things for me but I really do appreciate it. I shouldn't have yelled at you and I shouldn't have dismissed you the way that I did. I know it's not a great excuse, but it was just really bad the other night, I knew that I wasn't going to be fun to be around that's why I didn't want you here. But I don't have an excuse for how I treated you that morning. I had no right to say those things to you, I don't even really know what came over me. You've always been amazing to me and you do mean so much to me, y/n/n, you have no idea. I just hope that you'll forgive me…" "I appreciate your apology, Nols. My intention is never to overcrowd you or make you feel like you need my help. I'm here to help you with whatever you need and it's okay if you need some space too. It'd just be nice to be let down a little easier…"

Nolan smirked at your last comment, "I know, I'm sorry. I promise I will be better at communicating my needs with you." He put his arm around you and pulled you into his side. You rested your head on his chest and he kissed the top of your head.

You're my nemesis, you're my best friend

We nearly walk on common ground

You really didn't have big fights like that often, but you did however argue about stupid, little things all of the time.

One of the things that drove you absolutely nuts about your relationship with Nolan was how different the two of you were when it came to planning things and being on time. Nolan was very "go with the flow" and "we'll get there when we get there" which you loved for him…but you were much different. You liked to have things planned and you absolutely hated being late.

You were hanging out at your apartment one Friday afternoon watching Netflix when you got a text from Nolan.

Nolan: Hey, I need a date to an event tonight. I'll pick you up at 6:45.

You looked at the time and it was almost 2 o'clock.

Me: Whoa, whoa, whoa…what kind of event?

Nolan: Pretty fancy, black tie.

Me: Nolan!!!!! I don't have anything to wear!!!

Nolan: You have tons of dresses.

Me: Not any that fit black tie!

Nolan: Oh, well if you go now you'll have time to get one.

You scoffed and shook your head. Of course, he'd tell you about an event a few hours before and be so nonchalant about it.

Me: Fine, but I'm not happy.

Nolan: Why? You love these things.

Me: Yeah, when I have time to prepare for them!

Nolan: What do you need to prepare for? Just get a dress and do your makeup or whatever.

You chose not to respond to that because you didn't actually want to start a fight. It was also hard to actually be mad at him when he really had no idea what was wrong with the current situation.

You sent an SOS text to Meg and asked her to meet you at Nordstrom to help you pick something out.

Two hours later, there was a mound of dresses and jumpsuits in your dressing room but you finally found the perfect one. It was a beautiful, sleek, black, satin jersey gown.

"You look so hot, y/n/n." Meg complimented as you spun around in front of the mirror.

"Thanks…I just still can't believe I'm just finding out about this stupid gala." "Yeah, it's a little annoying. But look at you, you found the perfect dress and you still have time to get ready."

"I know, I just hate when he does this. You know how I am about stuff like this." "Yes, I know, Miss Organized…but it's not the end of the world."

You rolled your eyes at your cousin and went into the dressing room to change.

You hopped in the shower once you got home and did your hair and makeup as quickly as you could while still making it look good.

You heard Nolan come into your apartment and you glanced at the time because you weren't ready yet. You breathed a sigh of relief to see that it was only 6:30. You finished up your makeup, put on your heels, and grabbed your coat before walking down the hall to greet Nolan. He stood up from the couch when he heard you coming but was engrossed in his phone so he didn't look up at you. You rolled your eyes and cleared your throat to get his attention.

"You ready?" He asked without looking up.

You ignored his question and said his name firmly, "Nolan." He finally looked up at you but still didn't say anything about how you looked. "Do I look okay?"

"Yeah, I don't know what you were so worried about, babe. You look amazing."

"Don't make a habit of, Nols. I was super stressed about it."

He gave you an incredulous look but sighed and nodded his head, "sorry, princess. I'll make sure to tell you a year in advance next time."

You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm and walked towards the door.

~~~

One other thing about you and Nolan was that you bickered…constantly. He honestly drove you nuts more often than not but for some reason that was why you loved him so much.

You would argue about what to have for dinner.

"Pizza?" He suggested.

"We always have pizza, what about Chinese?" You protested.

He rolled his eyes at your suggestion, "we always have Chinese, too."

"Sushi?"

Nolan shook his head, "I don't feel like sushi." "Sandwiches?"

"Nah…" "Well, I don't know, Nolan! Why don't we just go to the store and make something." "That'll take too long." You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "Whatever, just pick something, I don't care."

"You say that now but you're going to complain about it as soon as it gets here."

"Well we can't agree on anything so whatever, just get what you want." You didn't give him a chance to argue as you stomped down the hall to do some homework.

You always argued about directions.

"Why are you going this way?" Nolan asked as you made a turn.

"Because it's faster. There's always a ton of traffic the other way." "No it's not, this way is like 30 minutes longer. Even with traffic we'll get there faster the other way." "No we won't, Nolan. I drive this way all the time, it's fine, trust me." "Whatever you say, we're gonna be late though." "No we're not." "Yes we are." "No we're not!" "Yes we are." "Fine, if you're so worried about it, you drive." You huffed out as you pulled over and threw the car in park and got out of the car. Nolan shook his head at how ridiculous you were being but switched places with you anyway.

You ended up getting there 10 minutes late.

"I told you the other way was faster." You said as you climbed out of the car.

Nolan scoffed, "if you hadn't thrown a fit and just kept driving we would have been on time." "Are you kidding me? It took two minutes to switch places. That's not why we're late." "Whatever.…" He grumbled as he shot you a glare. You stuck your tongue out at him and he shook his head walking a few steps in front of you.

He hated that you always hogged the blankets.

To no surprise, Nolan woke up in the middle of night shivering with no blankets on. He sighed angrily and tried to pull the blankets over to him. He wasn't successful because you were all wrapped up in them and they were impossible to move.

"Y/n." He said nudging your shoulder. "Y/n/n." You stirred a bit but didn't wake up. "Y/n." He said louder. Nothing. He sighed again grabbed his water bottle from the nightstand. He poured a little bit on your face and you shot up in shock.

"What the fuck, Nolan?!"

"You were hogging the blankets!" "So you dumped water on me?!"

"You wouldn't wake up!" "You're such an ass." You seethed as you pulled the blanket back to you and rolled over to face away from him. Nolan scoffed at your action and tugged on the blanket. "Get your own blanket if you're so concerned about it." You said as you held onto it so he couldn't have any.

"And I'm the ass…" He muttered in defeat as he got up to grab a blanket from the other room.

You hated the way he put the toilet paper on the holder.

"Nolan!!!" You screamed from the bathroom. You were pretty sure at this point he was doing it just to piss you off. You hated when people put the toilet paper on upside down. The right way to put it was so the tail was on top. It flowed so much better and you didn't understand how people could think that it’s okay the other way.

As you angrily switched it around, Nolan was out in the living room smirking because he knew exactly what you were yelling about. He feigned innocence as you came stomping down the hallway yelling at him for putting it on like that. "Oh, I'm sorry babe, I didn't mean to."

You rolled your eyes at him and scoffed. "Seriously, Nolan. You know it pisses me off." "I know, I’m sorry, I just don't think about it when I'm changing it, because it's really not a big deal. It's just toilet paper."

"Yeah, but it's so much easier when it's right side up."

"Some would argue that you have it wrong." "Yeah they might, but they're stupid. If you don’t care, why can't you just put it the way I like it." "I try to, babe, I just forget sometimes." "Well please, try and remember."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

A few days later, Nolan went into the bathroom and chuckled when he saw a sign posted by the extra toilet paper.

Please put toilet the right side up. Thank you :)

Deciding he wanted to dance with the devil, he switched the toilet paper so it was the "wrong way." It took a while, but a few hours later he was in the kitchen grabbing a snack when he heard his name being yelled from the bathroom. He laughed and shook his head, preparing for the storm that was coming his way.

But we're suckers for the thrill, playing fuck, marry, and kill

Honey you're all three.

No matter how much argued, bickered, or fought, you loved him. He was your person. You were with each other for your best moments and you stuck by each other through your worst.

Your best friend, your lover, your soulmate. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

---

You and Nolan were enjoying a rare day off you had together lounging around the apartment. Nolan had noticed that one of his favorite bands, Mt. Joy were on Instagram live. He shot them a quick text asking if it was okay if he joined. They of course said yes so he hopped on.

You were in the kitchen baking cookies, only half listening to what Nolan was saying. However, you immediately stopped what you were doing when you heard something that Nolan said. "I'm just hanging out at home with my girlfriend. Enjoying the day off." Once you got over the initial shock you listened more intently to see if he would say anything more about it. "Yeah, we've been together for a while. Pretty much since I came to Philly." Your jaw dropped. Of course. Of course he would play it off as if you've been dating for years. Apparently you were lost in thought for longer than you thought because the next thing you know Nolan came up and waved his hand in front of your face. "You there?"

"Oh yeah, sorry." "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm your girlfriend, huh?"

He smirked at your tone, "of course you're my girlfriend. Am I not your boyfriend?" "Oh my god, Nolan!"

"What?!" "How long have I been your girlfriend?" He shrugged, "I don't know, I thought we were always kind of dating."

You scoffed, "unbelievable." He gave you a questioning look but you shrugged him off. "Nothing…never mind."

"No, tell me." He insisted.

"It's just, we never really talked about it or had the conversation so I didn't think we were actually boyfriend and girlfriend." "So we've just been…what, a thing? For three and a half years?"

"Well, I don't know, I guess. We've never celebrated an anniversary or anything. And this is the first time I've ever heard you call me you your girlfriend." "Oh, well, I'm sorry y/n/n. I guess after it had been so long I just kind of assumed." You gave him an amused huff. "What? Should we have talked about it?"

"No, no, I guess not…" you reassured, "it's just so…us."

"Us?" "Our whole relationship has been me overthinking and you under thinking, apparently…no offense."

He chuckled at your explanation. "You've been overthinking our relationship?"

"Well, yeah! I never knew what we were but you never seemed worried about it so I didn't want to bring it up."

"Okay…so if you need it spelled out for you…" he started earning himself an eye roll from you, "will you be my girlfriend?"

"I thought I already was?" You replied with a playful smirk.

He rolled his eyes at your teasing but teased you right back. "So are we good? We didn't just break up, did we?"

"No, I love you too much to give you up that easy." He raised his eyebrows at your admission. "Oh, you love me, huh?" You stuttered a bit, realizing that because you had been so insecure you had never actually said it back. "See I notice things, not such an under thinker, am I?"

"I'm sorry, it's my overthinking... I always just thought it kind of slipped out when you said it and because I didn't know what we were I was scared if I said it back things would end." "What?!" He asked, looking at you like you had two heads. "How does that even make sense?!" "I don't know!!" You defended, "I just thought…I don't know... I guess I really don't have an explanation. Just that I'm a little bit crazy."

"It's okay, I already knew that. Your insistence that there is a correct way to put toilet paper on the holder was a dead giveaway."

"Ha ha ha…" you fake laughed, "you do put it the right way now, though…"

"I can't have you going off the rails on me…"

You gently shoved him and shook your head. He smiled and cupped your face in his hands. "I love you, y/n/n. I always have and I always will."

"I love you too, Nolly." You said with a smirk.

Nolan grimaced at the nickname, "okay, maybe not when you call me that."

"Oh, come on, Nolly. You know you love it." "I don't...but I love you so I'll let it slide."

You stood on your tip toes prompting Nolan to bend down so you could kiss him. He picked you up and set you on the counter and you made out for a few minutes.

"As much as I want to make sweet, sweet love to you baby, this dough smells really good…" He said, suggesting you finish the cookies.

"Aye, aye, captain." You saluted as you pushed him out of the way and hopped off the counter.

For the rest of your life with Nolan, there wasn't a day that went by where you didn't want to fuck, marry, and kill him. But it never stopped you from loving him.

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nolan patrick imagine #nhl fan fiction

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hot-wiings · 4 years ago

Text

The One Where Class 3A Place A Bet On The Relationship Status Of Their Residential Introverts, Desperate For Money, Mirio And Nejire Bet They Can Get Tamaki And [Y/N] Together Before Christmas Hits.

Edited: 12-27-2020

December, 19th.

You tried to contain your smile as you walked beside Tamaki Amajiki, your boyfriend, towards class 3-A. It was rare that you got a moment alone. Being best friends with not one, but two of the most extroverted and hyper kids in your class meant solitude and peace was hard to come by. Your hands grazed each other and you knew there were light blushes on both your faces. Despite having been together for a year now, touching in public would always bring a blush to your face and a rush to your heart, although, the raging blushes weren't as deep as they were a year ago. You'd gotten more comfortable now.

"Are you still coming over to my dorm tonight? For uh, date night?"

"Depends, is Mirio gonna phase into your room again?"

A blush spread across Tamaki's face as he remembered the incident that occurred last week. Mirio had phased into Tamaki's room and found you cuddling together. The problem was that you and Takami didn't have a public relationship. When you first got together the pressure felt high and you were both nervous to be a couple around your rambunctious class, keeping to a secret felt better, being together in secret felt more natural and lighthearted. Despite being together a year now, despite having figured out how to navigate your relationship, despite finding normality and familiarity in each other, you had yet to tell your friends. You just weren't ready to give up your secret. It was such a comprising position for two friends to be found in and while luckily you were able to play it off like you just fell asleep paying videogames, you were both nervous, paranoid, and mostly, embarrassed from almost getting caught.

"He's patrolling with Sir Night Eye tonight."

Tamaki stopped walking once you reached the classroom door and did a quick look-see up and down the halls. They were completely barren and the idea that your entire class was just behind one door was both riveting and daunting. Tamaki softly cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips against yours.

"Just you and me tonight. I'll bring the food, you can bring the movie."

"Can it be romantic and sappy?"

"Whatever movie you want I'll enjoy."

You played with Tamaki's tie as you let your head roll against the wall, a smile tugged your lips up. You really lucked out with him—but he would say the same thing about you.

"How about the note-hey."

You were pulled out of your thoughts as you heard your name being said. Immediately you dropped your hands from Tamaki, straightened yourself up and you looked down the halls for someone with red-tinted cheeks. Had you been caught? There was no one there.

"What is it?"

"I heard my name. Uck. This quirk is a blessing and a curse."

Your quirk was wolfism, probably what attracted Tamaki to you in the first place. It caused you to take on the complete form of a wolf under the full moon, however, on normal days you could take on wolf attributes. When you get extremely angry or tried to 'wolf out' as Nejire would call it, you could get long nails, and take on the appearance of a werewolf depending on how far you tried wolfing out. The real gem to your quirk was other wolf attributes you could use. Between seeing in the dark and a better sense of smell, enhanced hearing was amongst it.

You pressed your ear against the door to class 3-A to hear why your name was being said. You could recognize the voice of your classmates, and among those voices were Mirio and Nejire.

"[Y/N] and Tamaki? They're totally gonna end up together."

"No way! They're too shy for their own good. Amajiki would rather die than ask her out."

"I have to agree with [Student Name #1]. Don't get me wrong, Amajiki is a great guy, he's a great hero, but when it comes to girls—especially girls as cute as that—he's complete rubbish."

"Exactly, and [Y/N]... She could probably take down any villain, and she's hot as fuck, but if she had to ask Amajiki out... She'd piss herself."

You pull your ear off the wall briefly. Very brief, and very quick so you could get back to listening. You only grabbed pulled away to grab Tamaki's arm to get his attention urgently, though, it had already been on you.

"They're talking about us. Said were too shy to get together."

With Tamaki's attention on you, waiting for more, and your ear to the wall listening in, you were both anxious to hear more. Mirio's voice came into the mix.

"You gotta give my buddy a little more credit. Last week I saw them cuddling, intimately."

Nejires voice soon followed, hyper and excited on the prospect of you and Tamaki finally getting together.

"I bet if we just gave them a little push they would get together. Just a tiny, itsy, little push."

"Shy as they are? Impossible. We'll all be pros once [L/N] and Amajiki ever romantically get together."

You pulled away, a small smile and chuckle emitting from your face as you looked at your boyfriend.

"We'll be pro heroes by the time we get together."

"Maybe we should come clean... It has been a year."

You hummed in response as you put your ear back to the wall, considering the option. It would be nice. You could finally freely go on dates, you'd have to stop worrying about them finding out, and you could even hold hands in public. Mirio's voice was the next one you heard, and Nejire's was eager to follow.

"Let's wager a bet then."

"What kind of bet?"

"Well, Nejire and I owe you that money. If we can get [L/N] and Amajiki together by Christmas then you forgive our debt."

"Sound fair, but you have a week until Christmas."

"Me and Mirio have this in the bag. Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy."

"Alright, you have until midnight of Christmas Eve to get them together, not a minute later. We want picture proof too."

"Deal."

You pulled back with a scowl on your face and turned to Tamaki with crossed arms and a pout.

"What's wrong? What'd they say?"

"They're betting on us! On our relationship. If they can get us together by midnight, Christmas eve, then the money they borrowed for Mirio's PS5 will be forgiven."

Tamaki looked up and down the halls briefly before rubbing his hands up and down your arms in comfort. It was upsetting to the both of you that they were betting on you both. Did they think you were that hopeless? So hopeless and unable to get together on your own that they were able to make a quick buck off of you?

"What happens if they lose the bet?"

"Then the money gets doubled. They're betting a lot of money on us. Do they think we're that bad? Well they're wrong! Cause' here we are."

Tamaki pulled away from you as he spotted your teacher coming down the hall, rushing to get to class. He gave you a shy, coy smile as he grabbed your hand to pull you with him to class.

"I guess we'll have to make sure they lose their bet then. After all, they don't know we know."

You walked into the classroom together, pretending you hadn't heard anything of their little bet. Tamaki tugged you closer than usual, not enough to make it seem like you were in a relationship, but enough to be questionable. You had a feeling Tamaki had a plan in motion, and you were already catching on.

"Tamaki buddy! [Y/N]! We were just talking about you both."

You and Tamaki stopped from heading to your desks to talk to Mirio and Nejire who were facing you with grins on their faces.

"Oh? Really?"

"Yes, Mirio was just talking about this new movie that came out! We should all go see it together, and get something to eat too."

"That-that sounds good."

"Great! We'll go on the twenty-first, does that work out?"

You both threw your friends perfect smiles and nodded before turning away and moving to the back of the class where your desks were. They were going to lose the bet, that you were sure of.

December, 21st.

"What's our plan?"

"It's simple really. We're gonna act super cuddly. We're gonna let them think their plan is working, until the end of their bet hits, and evidently, it didn't work and they're stuck paying double the owed about of a play station five."

"I-uh, I'm not sure I can go through with this plan... Cuddly? In public? With everyone watching?"

Tamaki fiddled both his hands and looked at his feet nervously. The idea was scary. Getting intimate and close when there was a chance you could get caught was one thing, but holding hands and being cute and cuddly with the intent to be seen was another thing. It was daunting and scary.

"I know, public affection... It's scary... But just think of it like it's just us alone. It's just me, no one else, and if you get anxious I'll be there to calm you down."

"Okay, you'll be there... We've got this."

Tamaki placed a quick kiss on your cheek before going over to his closet. He dug through his laundry until he found what he was looking for, one of his sweatshirts. It was one of his favorites, he wore it often and there was no way your friends would mistake who's it was. He walked back over to you, a budding embarrassed and happy feeling coursed through his chest at the idea of you wearing his hoodie.

"If our objective is to flirt and act cute, then you should wear my sweater... Please?"

"Great idea, this is really gonna push them over the edge. That's smart. They're gonna lose this bet so hard."

Tamaki had a blush reddening his cheeks at your burst of affirmation that he'd done a good job. You and he looped your arms together before walking out of his dorm room and down to the main entrance of the dorms. Nejire and Mirio were waiting for you, and you smiled at them as you moved your looped arms to linked hands instead. You swung them back and forth as you walked to make it catch their attention.

"So... What movie are we seeing?"

"That new one. The romantic one. It's so romantic, and Christmas themed."

"Nejire, you gotta be more specific, that describes a lot of movies."

"The one about the best friend's who fall in love. You'll love it, it was practically made for you."

You knew Nejire would slip up like this. She got too excited about stuff and made little mistakes. She was a bad secret keeper, you loved her dearly but she was not your go-to person when you had a secret. Another part of your plan was to torment Nejire and Mirio the entire time. They didn't know that you knew, and you knew just what buttons to push to either get them to confess or paranoid enough to think that you knew and keep them on edge.

"Oh? You think so? Why?"

Mirio shot Nejire a look as if to say be more careful. His bank account was riding on this bet. He didn't want to pay back the money for the play station console, let alone have it doubled. He was confident he and her could pull this off, provided you didn't know. Nejire scratched the back of her head and laughed it off.

"Oh, come on! You can't tell me you've never thought of our little Sun Eater like that? Everyone's thought of their best friend romantically at least twice! I mean look at me and Mir'. We were best friends and now we're dating."

Nejire was smooth with her words but had Mirio not shot her a look, you were positive she would've slipped up about the bet. Instead, she fixed her words and hinted at feelings between you and Tamaki but making it seem like she was referring to herself.

"I and Tamaki are just friends."

Tamaki moved his hand from inside yours and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He squeezed your shoulder with his hand to help stop his shaky hand as you and him looked at each other briefly. He was nervous, you could tell as he looked down at you and spoke out his words.

"Best friends."

"Mm. The bestest."

You leaned your head against Tamaki as you uttered your words. You saw how Mirio looked back at you and then nudged Nejire in the side so she could not so discreetly steal a look at you and Tamaki. You smiled, just fakely playing into their plans of getting you and Tamaki together. It was a short walk, and before long Tamaki was pulling you into the movie theater, making sure to open the door for you to which Mirio nodded approvingly as he whispered into Nejire's ear. He was proud his friend was acting like a gentleman, his plan was going to go so well, at least, that's what they thought.

You stood in line together, Tamaki and you never leaving each other's side. Occasionally Tamaki would move his hand from your shoulder to your hair, playing with it nervously, a habit he picked from cuddling with you late at night. Mirio paid for Nejire's ticket, courtesy of her being his girlfriend and they stood off to the side while they waited for you both to pay for your tickets.

"Hi, um, can we have two kid tickets for 'A Christmas kiss', a large dr-pepper, and a large popcorn?"

The man behind the counter rang you up and eyed you warily, trying to decide if he really should run you up as a child or adult–decidedly, he didn't make enough money to care how old you were. With a tired sigh, he gave you your total.

"That'll be twenty-one, nineteen."

You went to pull out your wallet from your purse, where you had hidden and concealed candy from the dollar store, but Tamaki had already beaten you to it and paid for you using MooglePay. You turned to him, a grateful smile on your face. You knew Mirio and Nejire were watching so you took a deep breath, leaned up on your tiptoes, and pressed a kiss against his cheek. You stood back down on flat feet, and with blushes on both of your faces, you carried your popcorn and pop to meet Mirio and Nejire. That was your first kiss in public, at least in public when people were looking.

"Thanks for paying Tama'. You're the best."

You made sure to say the words out loud in front of Nejire and Mirio, planting the seeds of hope and romance in their pretty little heads as blushes remained on your faces. You walked down to your designated theater room, devious plans in your heads. You both sat in the back, next to each other and secluded from other people whereas Nejire and Mirio sat in the middle. Throughout the entire hour, they kept throwing you and Tamaki not so discreet looks, trying to see how cuddly you were acting.

"Do you think they know how obvious they are?"

"Mirio's always been obvious like that. He wouldn't know discreet if it hit him."

Tamaki wrapped his arm over your shoulder and you leaned your head against his chest as he saw Mirio take another look. He had a beaming smile, he thought his and Nejire's plan to get you together was working out. As the credits rolled on the screen and the dimmed lights brightened, Nejire and Mirio got a better view of you both. You fed Tamaki a piece of popcorn, knowing they were watching you both intensely.

You and Tamaki fell into a peaceful order as he fed you a piece in response. It was normal, normal, and natural to be this way with him. This was how you acted together in the confines of your bedroom, the only difference was that you were out in public. Forgetting they were even there, Tamaki cupped your cheeks and pressed a deep kiss against your lips. Naturally, like clockwork, your body responded by deepening it and moving your lips back in sync.

"Oh my gosh, you kissed! Ahh, it's so romantic, are you gonna date now?"

"Neji' calm down, it's their first kiss."

You and Tamaki abruptly pulled away. You didn't know what kind of shows Mirio watched, but that was not what a first kiss looked like. That was what two lovers who forgot that they were out in public looked like. You and Tamaki stood up and laughed, lacing fingers.

"I mean... If Tamaki asked me out, I wouldn't stop him."

"I– If [Y/N] wants to date me. I mean, [Y/N], will you go out with me."

"I'd like that."

This was not how your plan was supposed to go.

December, 22nd.

You paced back in forth in your dorm room, your feet making a constant flow of steps and probably annoying the student living on the floor below you. It wasn't your fault, not really. This was one of the attributes you got from your wolfism quirk. It was in your doggy nature to pace when you got anxious and upset. It was biological. Your boyfriend sat on your bed, a nervous frown played on his face as he ran his shaky hands through his hair. He wasn't sure if he should comfort and soothe you or continue to silently wallow in self-pity.

"They didn't even do anything, they just took us to a romantic movie. They didn't even pay."

"I'm sorry, did I-Uhm, did I ruin the plan by kissing you?"

You momentarily stopped your pacing back and forth to stand and snap your head over in your boyfriend's direction. Anyone else would have found your actions weird. The way you stopped so fast and snapped your head over to him at an insane pace would've been creepy. Again, it was just biological reflexes due to your quirk. If he was holding a piece of bacon you would've turned quicker.

"No."

You walked over to your boyfriend and straddled him on the bed. It wasn't sexual or sensual, your quirk was just taking over, your deep-rooted wolfy attributes. Your instinct was just to comfort your mate. He was stressed, anxious, and worried, and you could sense all of those feelings. You pulled his hands out of his hair and laced your fingers through his. They were still shaky as you smiled down at him.

"No, it's not your fault. Never your fault. You just kissed me, we both got carried away."

"But we lost the bet, I should've paid more attention to them. I should've watched to see if they were looking."

"Uh-uh. None of that negativity. We lost the battle, not the war."

You rolled off of Tamaki, both worried you were crushing him and bashful to be in such a compromising position now that you'd come down from the primal wolfy high.

"The conditions to the bet are that we have to kiss and say were together to [Student A] and [Student B] by midnight of the twenty-fourth. That's three days away. We're gonna invite Mirio and Nejire over, and we're gonna act like the cutest couple ever. Then tomorrow, we'll stage a huge breakup fight."

"That's a really good plan."

"Of course it is, I have the best plans."

Tamaki cupped your cheeks by hooking his slender fingers under your ears and pressed a quick kiss against the skin in between your eyebrow and let his head rest there.

"They'll think they've got the bet in the bag, and then we'll rip it away."

"I like it. It's sneaky, and it just might work."

You pulled out your phone and punched in the password before pulling up the group chat Nejire and Mirio were in with you and Tamaki.

[Y/N]: Do you guys wanna come over to my dorm? 👉👈 me and tamaki want to thank you for going out with us. It was rly, enlightening.

Nejire Hado: Yes!! We'd love too!!!! Does this mean your dating now?!!!

You locked and put your phone back into your pocket knowing answering Nejire would be futile because she would just ask more questions once she got inside your dorm. You nuzzled yourself into Tamaki, both cuddling and scenting him–not that he'd ever know that's what you were doing.

"Can you give me a hickey?"

"What... What?"

"A hickey. I want a hickey. Think about it, if Nejire and Mirio saw it, they'd be so happy thinking they're gonna win."

"They're on their way up here though..."

Your hands gripped the sides of Tamaki's shirt, pulling him closer to you and your nesting head.

"Even better, we'll get to avoid the 'are you a couple' questions."

"Fine... Just-just doesn't be too loud, I don't want anyone hearing."

Tamaki pulled down the collar of your shirt to get to work on marking up your skin. He didn't know what was going on with you. Lately, you'd been clingier, rubbing on him and getting freeskier. Hornier, he supposed, regardless he gave in to your whims. He pulled you closer and latched his mouth to your skin, sucking, tugging, and pulling to make a bruised mark. The door burst open and he was working and a crimson blush covered both of your faces.

"Nuh- Nejire! I- I told you to stop barging in my room like that."

"Sorry [Y/N] but I–Oh Mirio! I told you they were totally getting it on."

"Well, yeah... He's my, uhm, my boyfriend now."

December, 23rd.

Tamaki Amajiki paced around his bedroom floor. He fiddled with his hands as he tried to go over your plan in his head, carefully going over every detail, and every word you spoke out to him. It was the day of your fake fight where you would 'break up', the night before Christmas Eve to spring Nejire and Mirio into panic mode.

"I- I don't think I can pull this off."

"You can do it."

You walked over to Tamaki and wrapped your arms around him from behind. You rested your head on his back, reassuring him it would be okay, and reassuring him he would do good. It brought a crimson blush to his face, but regardless he was very nervous.

"What if I mess up?"

"You're gonna do good, okay? None of what we're saying is real, alright? It's fake. We're just convincing Mirio and Nejire, and it doesn't affect what I think about you. I'll even sneak over tonight to see you."

"Okay. Okay, do you wanna go over some lines?"

"Nope, I've got thick skin, besides Nejire and Mirio are on their way up and I don't want them overhearing our rehearsal."

Tamaki pulled out of your iron-clad grip and turned around to kiss your forehead tenderly, enjoying the soft space of skin.

"I love you alright? No matter what I say, it's fake."

"I know, I love you too. Do you want a codeword, in case we're too harsh? Something to say 'hey, dial it back'. Like, uhm, squid? I think I could work that into an argument."

You pressed a quick kiss against Tamaki's lips. You would have liked to deepen and further it along but you heard a knock on the door. You assumed this was to give you privacy and make you and Tamaki more comfortable in hopes of furthering your relationship. You and Tamaki broke apart and got ready to start screaming at each other once they walked in. Mirio and Nejire came in after giving you and Tamaki a moment in case you were fornicating in some type of way.

"I can't believe you."

"Whoa, what happened?"

Mirio was quick to try and intervene. He had rarely seen Tamaki sound so upset and get worked up. It was alarming that you were the person that he had it directed at. Mirio had never seen Tamaki look at someone with as much love as he did with you. Tamaki would move mountains for you, and Mirio saw it. That was why he originally took the bet in the first place.

"I took [Y/N] out for breakfast this morning, and she was basically flirting with the server."

You had to fight off the smile on your face as Tamaki came up with the lie so quickly. You had been inside his dorm all morning playing video games together and eating junk food, a chip bag hidden half underneath the bed was there as proof. Nejire started to bite her thumb nail as she watched Tamaki get upset. Truthfully, she and Mirio had planned to slip special animal meat in his food after the movie a couple of nights ago but decided against it once you guys kissed. They wanted to get him territorial and jealous over you, clearly, that would've backfired.

"I wasn't flirting with him! All I did was say thanks and asked for a refill."

"Yeah, you were really thirsty for him, weren't you?"

"Maybe I wouldn't be so thirsty if my own boyfriend felt comfortable kissing me in public."

You had to stifle a laugh, you wanted to giggle so hard. None of this was true, but Mirio and Nejire were eating it up like butter. Your performance was so good, and Tamaki was doing so great.

"Maybe I'd be more comfortable kissing you if you didn't wolf out and get so possessive all the time."

You crossed your arms and tried to compose yourself as tears flooded to your eyes. That last comment hurt. It really hurt. You were really insecure about it and scared that your wolfism would affect your relationship. Worried you'd get too possessive and jealous, and worried that he'd find your scenting on him and habits weird. You start sniffling as the tears start to come down faster. You knew he didn't mean it. It's fake. It's fake fight, but hearing him say it felt so real.

This was your own idea, why were you being such a baby?

"Well, maybe I don't want to be with a mean squid face. Here's your sweater back, we're over!"

You ripped his sweatshirt off of your body, despite not really wanting to. It was a comfort item for you. Smelling his residue scent on things he's previously worn really brought warmth and comfort in you. On days you were particularly sad, and hurt, on days you felt pure anxiety and fear, having a piece of him with you helped. It helped you, but you still had to put on a show for Mirio and Nejire.

"Give that back to Squidward for me, will you?"

You tossed the sweater at Mirio who easily caught it with a worried expression. Although the bet was at stake here, he was worried for you as he saw hot tears make their way down your face. You took off out of Tamaki's room, making a dramatic exit with Nejire following hot on your tail.

You wanted to win the bet–or rather have your friends lose the bet since you never made the bet, but it hurt so much it didn't even matter.

December 24th, Christmas Eve.

The following day you and Tamaki kept a distance as promised. It was part of the plan. Stay separate until after midnight, then, and only then would you reveal your relationship. You had both mutually promised to keep your distance, but it hurt you both. You hadn't shown up at Tamaki's dorm that night like you promised you would. He knew that he had taken it too far after you called him a squid, but he hadn't meant to. He didn't think you would take such offense to it, he hadn't known how sensitive you were about it. To put it plainly Tamaki felt horrible. He was trying to figure out a way he could fix this but he kept coming up empty. How was he supposed to fix it when you were supposed to be ignoring each other?

On the other hand, you felt just as horrible as Tamaki did. You felt embarrassed and ashamed for being so sensitive and emotional. You didn't know what came over you. You wanted to blame it on the wolf aspect of yourself, but that only made you feel worse. You couldn't help but nibble on your lips evIry time you caught Tamaki looking over at you. On one hand, you were happy he was looking at you. You were worried you upset him with your little outburst and ruined things, this gave you hope and a sense of relief. On the other hand, you still wanted to win this bet and Nejire was following you around trying to get you to talk to Tamaki, whereas Mirio was doing the same for his friend. You both didn't want to talk, embarrassed about how things went, worried they'd messed things up on their end.

"I see you watching him, why don't you just go talk to him."

"It's not that simple Nejire, you wouldn't understand. You and Mirio have had a long picture-perfect relationship, you're not Tamaki and me."

It wasn't like other times Nejire gave you advice. Other times you could give it to her straight and she'd give you the best input, this time you were secretly trying to foil her and Mirios plans. You couldn't just say, it was a fake fight and I overreacted. Or alternatively, it was a fake fight but his words sounded sincere, what if he really doesn't want me. You couldn't be honest with her. Especially not now, knowing she was going to take every little thing to Mirio, who inevitably, would tell Tamaki.

"So make me understand. Try to get me to understand you. You and Tamaki are perfect for each other!"

"No, we aren't!"

Your words came out in a small yell, and most people around could probably have heard what you said. You backtracked your words, embarrassed as you crossed your arms and hugged them to your chest. It was eleven-fifty, and Nejire had ten minutes for her and Mirio to get you and Tamaki together, but at this point, she didn't care. Ten minutes wasn't long enough, she had accepted defeat unlike Mirio, all she could do now was remorsefully wish with you and Tamaki were a couple. She thought you were both blind, she had never seen two people more fitting and perfect for each other.

"I'm sorry for yelling, but he doesn't like my wolfism. You heard him, and that's not- that's not something I can change about myself. It's biological..."

"[Y/N] I-"

"You know [L/N], if Amajiki isn't interested in you anymore I wouldn't mind taking you out."

Some random guy had cut into your conversation with Nejire. You hadn't seen him here before, he looked young, most likely a first-year student. You wondered how he even got in there, it was a Christmas party at the class 3-A dorms, intended only for third-year students. The proposition was completely preposterous. You and Tamaki weren't completely over. All he had done was insult you, it was a fake insult, and while you were simply positive he was going to break up with you, you weren't going to flirt with another guy just yet, and definitely not a first year.

"I- uhm... well- I..."

"I think what my shy friend is trying to say here is no. She's not interested, trust me."

"Awe c'mon!"

The guy leaned back against the food table he was standing in front of. You tried not to scrunch your face up in want and desire. He was leaning into a meat tray. A meat tray. The delectable treat looked so scrumptious, sausage, and cheese so perfectly put out for display. He shouldn't be leaning so hard, he'll ruin it. You wanted to devour it in an instant. Truthfully that was where your mind went when you stuttered out your reply and Nejire had to come to your rescue. You didn't care for the first year, you just wanted the meat tray.

It didn't appear that way to Tamaki. Watching from the distance all he saw was you staring over at that guy with such a distinct look in your eyes. A look of wanting and hunger. He knew he messed up by insulting your quirk. He didn't know you'd get so hurt, but he should've thought about that first. If you had insulted his quirk like that, he'd be upset. Tamaki slowly walked forward, closer and closer trying to hear what the young first-year student was saying to you.

"You'd love going out with me. I'd appreciate every part of you and your body."

"Oh, um... Look, I'm sure you're a nice guy and all... But like my friend said, I'm, um, I'm just not that interested right now."

"I see the way you're looking at me, quit playing hard to get. I bet your quirk really gets you going in bed."

You took a step back as the guy took a step forward. You should have told him off, you should have handled the situation better. You should have asserted yourself from the beginning instead of letting Nejire handle it, you should have shown you weren't a pushover, maybe then the guy would've gotten the point. You took more steps backward, embarrassed, and stunned at what he was implying to you. You truly just wanted the meat platter he was in front of. As the guy was about to touch you, Nejire was about to step forward and intervene when Tamaki jumped into the equation. Tamaki grabbed the guy's wrist before he could touch your hip and pushed his wrist into his body. The boy cowered back and cradled his arm from the strength Tamaki had used to squeeze him and make him cower back.

"That- uhm, that wasn't polite. She said she wasn't interested and when a girl says no, she means no. I suggest you leave before every third-year female in this room decides to tell you that themselves."

"Right... um right. Sorry."

The boy mumbles out a bad apology lowly before he quickly made his way out of the building. Tamaki didn't see the boy going very far in the hero course. He turned to you and hesitantly rubbed his hand up and down your arm, unsure if you would welcome his touch.

"Are you okay?"

"It's fine, I'm fine."

"I'm sorry for upsetting you yesterday, I didn't mean to, please don't break up with me."

Part of your lip quipped up into a smile at how sweet Tamaki was acting. He didn't do anything wrong. He didn't need to apologize. It was you, all you.

"Tamaki... you don't need to apologize, I overreacted. The truth is... I'm really insecure about my quirk. I- my wolfism makes me act funny. When I go through my, you know, I react more like a dog going through heat. I get really clingy, and horny, and jealous, which can be a big turn off to some people. In all honesty, I thought you were going to break up with me."

"No, god no."

He rushed his words out as he pulled you into his arms. His hands rubbed up and down your back, trying to soothe you knowing you were on the verge of tears. He pulled back and pressed a kiss against your head. His soft lips felt good.

"I'm never breaking up with you, you're it for me. Heart, soul, and life. I don't care if your clingy, or horny, or jealous, because you'll be mine, and I'll be yours."

A smile warmed your face as your hands came up and caressed Tamaki's suit. You gripped the sides of the dress jacket and pulled him down a few inches to press a kiss against his lips. You both smiled into it, happy to feel each other again, even if it was in public.

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas... Can we deal with Mirio and Nejire later? I just wanna cuddle you right now."

"Yes, no, yes. We can cuddle but you have to help me sneak the meat platter out of here."

Tamaki placed another soft kiss on you, this time your lips, and he smiled down at you before pulling you into the direction of the meat platter. You were special to him, so even with everyone's eyes on him and you, class 3-A's resident shy students, Tamaki started piling meat into napkins and fitting them inside his pocket. If you wanted a meat platter, then you deserved a meat platter. tI didn't matter who was watching, not when it was you with him.

272 notes · View notes

onecanonlife · 3 years ago

Text

the wind that remakes

It's been ten years since the princes of the Antarctic Empire vanished. But the king's still offering a hefty reward for their return, and Tommy thinks it's about time he and Tubbo tried for it. No matter what they have to do.

It's time to pull off the con of the century.

(fic masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(next chapter)

(chapter word count: 5,474)

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

Chapter One: let the valleys awake (let them rattle and shake)

It starts like this: Tommy and Tubbo are looking for someone they could feasibly pass off as one of the Lost Princes of the Antarctic Empire, because the reward is a shit load of money and Tommy wants a piece of it. But they’re not having any luck, right up until they pass by a busker on the street corner and something in Tommy’s head just clicks, just says, yes, that one, he’s the one.

And, well. Tommy is a Big Man whose instincts are never wrong, so he nudges Tubbo and points. Tubbo’s nose scrunches up, but Tommy doesn’t give him time to object before he’s marching over, already preparing his dialogue. And as he gets closer, he’s more and more certain that he’s right about this; the guy has the right hair color, the right face structure, and he’s a performer to boot, and taken all together, it smells like a successful scam just waiting to be implemented.

The guy doesn’t look up when he comes over, so instead of talking to him, Tommy pulls out the rumpled picture that they’ve been using all day, one of the photos of Prince Wilbur that’s been circulating around the Empire for years now, in hopes that someone will see him and bring him home. Fat chance of that ever happening, of course, and King Philza must be a sucker for thinking it, but it makes his and Tubbo’s jobs easier, so he’s hardly going to complain about it. He holds the picture up, comparing the face of the prince to that of the street performer, and actually, the resemblance is kind of uncanny.

“Tubbo, my friend,” he says, “I think we’ve got him.”

Tubbo makes a noncommittal noise, but that finally gets the performer to look up from his guitar.

“Can I help you with something?” he asks, and Tommy grins.

“Actually, we’re about to help you,” he says, and he sounds very grand and impressive, if he does say so himself. Which makes it all the more annoying when the guy looks him up and down like he’s worth the dirt on his shoes.

“Really,” he says, and his voice is dripping with so much sarcasm, Tommy’s surprised that it doesn’t manifest physically somehow.

“Yes, really,” he says. He refuses to be put off. This is the guy, he just knows it, the guy who’s going to make them so fucking rich that they’ll be able to swim in gold, or whatever it is rich people do with their money. “You’re one of the Lost Princes of the Antarctic Empire.”

The guy blinks. “Pretty sure I’m not,” he says.

“Pretty sure you are,” he returns. “See, look, we’ve got a photo of you and everything.” He shows the guy the photo, and the guy narrows his eyes. “Or at least, we’ve got a photo of Prince Wilbur, but it could be you, too. That’s a kid in this picture. No telling what he looks like now. Could look like you.”

“We’re inviting you in on our scam,” Tubbo puts in. “If you couldn’t tell. You interested?”

“Wait,” the guy says. “Wait. You’re telling me that you want to pretend that I’m a fucking prince so that you can get the reward money off the king? Something I’m sure no one has ever tried to do before. You don’t know me at all, and you don’t know if I can act worth a damn, you just think I look like the prince did when he was fourteen. But just to be clear, that’s what you’re proposing?”

He looks at Tubbo. Tubbo looks at him.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Tubbo says. “If it makes you feel better about it, we’re really, really good con artists.”

“You’re infants, is what you are,” the guy says. “How old are you, five?”

“We’re sixteen, fuck off,” Tommy snaps. “Look, do you want in or not? Pretty sure living in a cushy palace has got to be better than whatever you’ve got going on here.”

“Hm, let’s see, do I want to upend my entire life to try to trick a grieving father into thinking that I’m one of his long lost sons? Which, incidentally, is a plan that will probably not work and get us all thrown in prison for fraud,” the guy says.

“We’re going to try very hard not to get thrown into prison for fraud,” Tubbo is quick to say, but the guy doesn’t seem to be paying attention.

“Sure, let’s go,” the guy says. “Not like I’ve got much else to do. You two have names?”

“This is Tubbo,” Tommy says. “I’m Tommy.”

The guy raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, like Prince Tommy,” he says. “It’s a common name, so shut up about it.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” the guy says. “I mean, my name’s Will, so.”

He can’t stop himself from laughing, because that’s just too good. “Are you serious?” he demands, smiling widely. “You’re joking, your name is actually Will?”

Will shrugs. “It’s what I’ve always gone by, ever since I was a teenager. I can’t really remember any of my childhood, so who knows, maybe I actually am a prince.” He smiles in a way that makes it clear how much of a joke he thinks that is, and he stands and reaches for his guitar case. There’s not much money in it, despite the fact that from what Tommy heard of his playing, he’s pretty damn good.

Tubbo snorts.

And Tommy claps their newfound friend on the back.

“Will,” he says, “I think this is the beginning of an excellent partnership.” He grins broadly, the type of grin that always has Tubbo rolling his eyes and asking where the fire is, which is unfair, frankly. It’s not always a fire. Just sometimes, because arson can be fun, actually, and some people deserve to have their stuff burned down.

Will, to his delight and Tubbo’s obvious consternation, grins the same kind of grin right back at him.

-----

It starts like this: it is indeed the beginning of an excellent partnership.

Will fits in with them like he was born to the role, and Tommy will never admit how fast he’s gotten attached to the guy, but he is kind of very attached. Because Will is smart and funny, with a sense of wit that can have both him and Tubbo in stitches, and it’s also nice to have an adult around, a bit. Not that he and Tubbo need one; they’ve gotten along just fine without for years. But people don’t shoot them as many suspicious looks when they’re with Will, and it turns out that he’s a brilliant actor, too, charismatic and smooth and confident, and he has people eating right out of his hand while Tommy and Tubbo sneak around and pick their pockets. It’s a wonderful arrangement, and within a week or two, Tommy can barely remember what life was like without him there.

The main issue is travel.

It’s a long way from where they started to the Capitol, and they can’t always afford to travel in the protected caravans, the ones with hired guards against the mobs that swarm over the land at night. And they can’t always afford an inn to stay in, either, and that means spending several harrowing lengths of time cowering in a makeshift shelter, listening to zombies and skeletons and spiders just outside and praying that none of them find their hiding spot, because they’re all scrappy in a fight but they don’t have any real weapons on them. They hadn’t planned for this, really; he and Tubbo have never left the big cities before, and apparently, Will hasn’t either.

“We need a bodyguard,” he declares one day.

“Where are we supposed to get one of those?” Tubbo asks.

“I don’t know,” he says. “But we need one. I’m sick of mobs.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Will says. He’s setting up a busking spot, trying to get them a little more cash. Somehow, it never seems to be enough. “But I agree with Tubbo. Even if we can find someone to go with us, there’s payment to think about.”

“We don’t need payment,” he protests. “We’ve got a prince! A long lost prince! We’re about to be the richest men in the world! That’s payment, innit?”

Will rolls his eyes. Tubbo does too. They’ve been doing that lately, ganging up on him, which is terrible and unfair.

“Somehow, I don’t think that a good bodyguard will accept that kind of payment,” Tubbo says. “It’d basically be an IOU, right? That’s a terrible business practice.”

He scowls. Tubbo is right, of course, but he’s got his heart set on a bodyguard now. Someone who’s good at fighting—good at fighting mobs, specifically, because Tommy is a very good fighter, thank you very much, it’s just that the people he’s used to fighting are other street kids. For, like, food. Not monsters. Not things that can kill you in one blow, if you’re unlucky.

And then, like fate and providence are shining down on him, his eyes alight on a poster across the street. The poster advertises arena fighting. In this city. Fights daily.

He grabs Tubbo’s arm.

“That,” he says, pointing, “is where we find a bodyguard.”

Tubbo follows his gaze. “Maybe,” he says doubtfully, “but we’ll still need to pay them. How are we supposed to convince someone to come along? I bet they get paid more for fighting than we could ever offer them.”

“Tubbo,” he says, “we’re the greatest con artists in the world. We can think of something.”

Tubbo stares at him. And then grins.

Behind them, Will starts to play.

-----

It starts like this: Will manages to busk enough money to get them three tickets into the arena.

It hurts just a bit, spending their legitimately-earned cash on something like this. But five minutes after stepping through the gates, into the crush of people and the roar of the crowds, the scent of sweat and blood mingling with concessions and stale perfume, Tommy thinks that this might be one of the best things he’s ever gotten to do in his life.

Their seats aren’t great, but they can see alright. The day’s matches start with small fry, and those fights are so boring that he almost starts yawning, because these people are just bashing each other with swords. There’s no finesse to it, no real skill, and he really hopes that there are fighters here better than this, because if there aren’t, this has been a wasted trip. But slowly and surely, the fights get better, more engaging, more of a real show, and his interest returns.

And then, when they’ve been there for hours and the sun is starting to creep toward the horizon, they bring out the big guns.

The announcer calls out someone with the moniker of ‘The Blade,’ and the crowd goes wild. They, evidently, know who this is, and that fact alone is enough to put Tommy on the edge of his seat, because surely, this is who they want? The headliner, the number one, the main attraction? If the spectators like them this much, they must be good.

They step out into the arena, dust clouds puffing where their feet fall, and the crowd gets impossibly louder. It’s hard to make out details from this distance, but Tommy can see pink hair, tied back into a braid, and some kind of mask covering the upper part of their face. It looks a bit like a skull, like this person is actually wearing an actual skull on their face, and that is either extremely overkill or extremely badass, and Tommy can’t quite decide which.

And then, there’s the massive netherite sword they’re holding. Their namesake, Tommy assumes. It’s probably the biggest sword he’s ever seen, and this person is holding it like it weighs nothing at all.

Their opponent comes out, and even though they’re also armed to the teeth, they don’t look nearly as natural as the Blade does. They hold their axe out in front of them as if to ward off blows rather than make them, and they’ve got their shield lifted too high. The Blade, meanwhile, spins their sword—and how strong must they be, to wield such a huge weapon so naturally?—in casual circles, appearing for all the world like this is no more strenuous than a walk in the park.

The announcer shouts. The fight commences.

The Blade fights like it’s as natural as breathing, and Tommy can’t look away. Their style is a mixture of sheer brutality and uncanny grace, and it’s difficult to watch, sometimes, difficult to keep track of exactly what they’re doing; one moment, it will look as if their opponent is holding their own, and then the next, they will have that sword at that opponent’s throat. Or through it, sometimes. The Blade doesn’t seem to have any compunctions about killing.

Tommy loses track of how many matches they fight. Six, maybe, or seven. But they win all of them handily, and by the time the events are all over and people begin to file out of the arena, he’s practically shaking with excitement.

Tubbo beats him to the punch.

“So, it’s them, right?” he says. “We’re gonna try to get them?”

Tommy nods rapidly, unable to contain himself.

“We have to,” he says. “That was fucking—I don’t know what the hell that was, but it was fantastic!”

He glances over at Will, only to find that he’s still staring out into the arena, eyes slightly glazed. Tommy furrows his brow, waiting for him to say something, but when it becomes apparent that he’s not going to, he speaks up.

“Will? You agree?” he asks, and Will blinks, shudders a bit.

“Right,” he says, “yeah, no, sorry, I’m good. Yeah, if we’re actually going to do this, we should aim for the best.”

He still seems a bit out of it, a bit dazed, but he turns his head to meet Tommy’s eyes and smiles, and Tommy tucks his concerns away with the mental equivalent of a shrug. If Will says he’s good, that’s good enough for him.

“Alright,” he says, standing, cracking his knuckles dramatically. Tubbo rolls his eyes at the display, but he ignores him. “Let’s go get ourselves a Blade.”

-----

It starts like this: the key to sneaking in someplace is to look as though you belong there. That’s easier said than done, of course, especially for two ragged teens and a slightly less ragged young adult. But Tommy’s had a long time to figure things like this out, and so has Tubbo, and Will hasn’t done this very often but he always takes to acting out new roles as if he was born to them, so Tommy’s not particularly worried. They find a door marked for employees and slip in, and from there it’s just a matter of finding their way.

He’s got a story prepared in case they get stopped, something about being sent with a message, but no one gives them a second glance. He keeps his head held high, his stride purposeful but not too confident, and simple as that, he appears to be just like everyone else, age and clothing notwithstanding.

“Do they have rooms down here, do you think?” Tubbo mutters. “The fighters?”

“Maybe,” he replies. “Even if they don’t, I bet the Blade is still here. The fight didn’t end that long ago.”

There are a lot of rooms under the arena, a lot of hallways, a lot of space, and it’s a bit mazelike, really. Dark, too; they’ve got redstone-powered lighting, but it’s fritzy, the bulbs flickering and dim. The walls and floors are hard, dank stone, the kind that echoes loudly with every noise, and Tommy can’t help but wince when the sound of their passage bounces off of every surface.

“There’s lots of swords in there,” Tubbo says, peering into one of the rooms they pass. “Isn’t that the Blade’s?”

Tommy stops walking, stepping up next to Tubbo. The room is full of weapons and armor of all kinds, but sure enough, there’s a large sword sitting alone on a table, still flecked with dried blood. It’s even larger up close; Tommy’s not sure he could lift it without using two hands, much less fight with it, though it pains him to admit as much. The Blade is just that strong, apparently, though why he’d leave his prized weapon sitting here in a room of other weapons, out in the open where anyone could mess with it, Tommy has no idea. Unless the sword isn’t actually his, but that doesn’t make much sense, does it?

“Tommy, Tubbo,” Will hisses, the sound sharp in the otherwise empty corridor, and Tommy looks over. Will is standing in front of an iron door a little ways down, a door with a barred window in it. He’s got his eyes fixed on whatever’s on the other side, his expression somewhere between shock and anger, and Tommy exchanges glances with Tubbo.

“What?” he asks, coming over.

“Have a look,” Will whispers, moving aside so that he and Tubbo can see.

He immediately understands what has Will upset.

“Oh gods,” Tubbo says. “They’re prisoners.”

There are cages in this room. Dozens of them, built with black iron, though only a few are occupied. Tommy recognizes most of the people in them, all people who fought in the arena earlier, the best fighters, the ones that gave a good showing, that were actually interesting to watch. They’re all in cages, most of them sitting or lying down, none of them moving all that much. It’s a stark contrast to before, when they were all movement, all aggression. Now, they seem—listless is the best word to describe it. Purposeless. Like all the fight’s been sucked right out of them.

A few of them are in chains, even inside their cages. The Blade is one of those, manacles wrapped around their wrists and ankles, and a collar around their neck. It’s sick, is what it is, like they’re some sort of animal.

“Shit,” Tubbo says. “I thought the hardest part was gonna be trying to convince them to come. Now we’ve got to do a prison break?”

“This isn’t right,” Will mutters. “This isn’t—they’re being forced to fight?”

“Only one way to find out,” Tommy says, and reaches out to push the door open. For a second, it doesn’t budge, and he wonders if it’s locked, because wouldn’t that just be perfect? But then, there is give, and it swings inward with a squeal of rusted hinges. Beside him, Tubbo steps back to look up and down the hallway, but no one appears to shout at them or kill them for trespassing, so Tommy squares his shoulders and strides into the room, trying to keep looking like he belongs.

It doesn’t matter much. Just like the employees they passed, none of the fighters—the prisoners—seem interested at all. So Tommy walks through the room unimpeded until he’s right next to the Blade’s cage. The Blade is sitting on the ground, leaning against the bars, head bowed. They don’t look up.

So Tommy clears his throat.

“Hello,” he says, and congratulates himself on an excellent beginning.

Slowly, the Blade’s head rises, and Tommy can see two things: one, that what he thought might have been a skull mask back in the arena is definitely an entire real skull, holy shit, and two, that the Blade is a young man, far younger than he would have thought him to be. Maybe even younger than Will, who estimates his own age to be around the ballpark of twenty-four or twenty-five.

“Hallo,” the Blade says after a moment. Tommy almost laughs out loud, because the word is said so awkwardly, and more than a bit bewildered, as if the Blade can’t fathom why someone would be talking to him. Which is a bit sad, actually, so Tommy’s going to choose to believe that he’s confused by the presence of a teenager and not by the fact that anyone is there at all. Because the second would just be downright depressing.

“You’re the Blade, right?” Tommy checks.

“That’s what they call me,” the Blade agrees. “And you are?”

“We want to hire you,” Tubbo jumps in. “Or at least, we did. We weren’t really expecting you to be locked up or anything. We might need a new plan. But we wanted you to come with us and be our bodyguard.”

It’s difficult to tell exactly what the Blade’s expression is doing, considering that most of the top half of his face is hidden by the animal skull—is it a pig? Tommy’s pretty sure that it’s a pig, or a boar, or maybe even a hoglin, considering its size—but his eyes are visible, and he glances between both of them slowly, skeptically. Tommy bristles.

“And just what do a couple of ragamuffins need a bodyguard for?” the Blade drawls. “You skip school too many times?” He pauses. “Who do children fight these days? Other children? I can fight you some orphans if you want, I guess. I’m pretty good at that.”

Tommy blinks, his mouth working silently for a second. He wants to be indignant at being addressed like a kid, like he’s not even worthy of consideration, but that is superseded by his sheer bewilderment at the way the Blade talks, like he’d just casually enjoy the chance to rough up some orphans. He looks at Tubbo, and sees the exact same question reflected in his best friend’s face: Just what kind of guy have we started talking to?

This isn’t like Will, where he could tell immediately that he would be right for the job and for their team overall. The smart thing to do would probably be to give up and look elsewhere for someone to hire. And yet, Tommy finds himself intrigued. This is a very strange man, obviously, and he’s never been able to resist poking at strange things.

“No, no orphans,” he says, muttering a quick, “What the fuck?” under his breath for good measure. “We just need protection on the road. From mobs and such. We will literally break you out of here if you come with us.”

The Blade tilts his head.

“You could try,” he says. “I can’t say I’m enthusiastic about the idea.”

“You can’t possibly want to stay in here,” Tubbo says incredulously. The Blade shrugs.

“No,” he agrees, “but there’s not much of anythin’ for me out there, either. Everything about this place sucks, but at least I get to fight people. I like doin’ that. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I got out.”

And that—forget earlier, that is so, so incredibly sad. In both the pathetic way and in the actual terrible way.

“There’ll be plenty of mobs to fight on the road,” he says, grasping at straws now. He’s got a few ideas for how they could successfully orchestrate a prison break, but in order for that to happen, the Blade needs to be willing to go. “Loads of ‘em. And besides, we’re bringing Prince Wilbur back to the king, and there’ll be a great big reward for it. You’ll be rich enough to do whatever you want after that.”

“Like fight orphans,” Tubbo adds helpfully.

“Yeah, like fighting orphans. So c’mon, what do you say?”

The Blade has gone very, very still.

“You’re doing what?” he says, his tone completely flat. A shiver runs down Tommy’s spine, because that is not a good tone. That is a tone that promises violence, that promises bloodshed, that promises death, and he’s not sure how he knows that, but he’s sure of it, sure as he knows his own name, that he has somehow just said something to make this man very, very dangerous.

“Uh, we’ve found Prince Wilbur?” he says. “And we’re bringing him back to the Capitol so we can get the reward money? And that’s why we need—”

“Prince Wilbur is dead. All of the princes of the Antarctic Empire are dead.”

The way he says it shocks Tommy into silence, and he doesn’t know why. It’s hardly an outrageous thing to say; it’s the general consensus of the common folk, after all, that King Philza is clinging to false hope, that he is a decent man but also one to be pitied, for refusing to accept the loss of his sons. Hell, Tommy himself has never believed in the myths, in the stories that go something like, so-and-so saw one of the princes by the train tracks or so-and-so saw them on a cart crossing the border or shit like that. The princes were kids when the invasion happened and the Empire itself was almost lost; there’s probably no way that they survived being taken by the enemy, the invaders that crept out of the End.

But the way the Blade says it—

He’s so certain. Like there is absolutely no doubt in his mind. The princes are dead, and there’s not even room for argument, not room for so much as a rumor to the contrary. Tommy agrees with him, but even he can’t claim that level of surety.

“Uh,” Tubbo says. “I mean, obviously it’s a scam. We’re scamming the king. We don’t actually have the prince. But we’d still like a bodyguard.”

“No,” the Blade says, in that same voice, low and monotone and terrifying. “You should leave. I’ll have no part in this.”

“Oh come on,” Tommy says, regaining his voice. He doesn’t know what to do with the Blade’s convictions, but he knows how to talk his way out of a denial. “Look, why don’t you—where’s Will? Will?”

Will’s not standing at the cage with them. Somehow, he’s only just noticing this. He turns, and Will is lurking back by the door to the room, keeping to the shadows, shifting uneasily. Which, fine, he can do what he wants, except for right now, because the more adamantly the Blade turns them down, the more Tommy wants him to come along.

“Will,” he calls, and his voice reverberates through the room. A couple of the other prisoners lift their heads. “Come talk to this guy! Tell him he should come with us!”

Will approaches slowly, strangely hesitantly, stepping up on the other side of Tubbo.

“We are in the market for a bodyguard,” he says quietly. “We thought you fit the bill.” He pauses. “We can’t guarantee that any of this will work, of course, but I’m an excellent actor, and these two are literal children, but they’re not bad.”

“Aw, thanks,” Tubbo says.

“Watch who you’re calling a fucking child,” Tommy says.

“What?” the Blade says. “You’re—Wilbur?”

“Will,” Will corrects, “but yes, we’re passing me off as Prince Wilbur.”

“Passing you off,” the Blade repeats. Slowly, he rises to his feet for the first time, and wow, he’s tall.

“Kind of the definition of a scam,” Tommy says.

“A scam,” the Blade repeats again. “This is a scam.”

“We just told you this,” he says. “Are you a bit slow or what?”

“No, just tryin’ to understand,” the Blade says. “You’re tellin’ me right now that this is definitely a scam. And you are not actually Prince Wilbur of the Antarctic Empire.”

“That is what we’re telling you, yes,” Will says, and Tommy is glad that he does, because he’s pretty sure he’s lost the thread of the conversation. The Blade is a strange, strange man, and frankly, he’s not making any sense at all anymore.

“Okay,” the Blade says. “I’m in. Bust me out.”

Tommy blinks. And then blinks again.

“What, really?”

“Yeah, you’ve convinced me,” the Blade says.

“Literally how,” Tubbo states, but Tommy punches him on the arm to get him to shut up, because they don’t need him to think about it, don’t need him second-guessing his decision.

“Alright!” he whoops. “One jail break, coming right up!”

“Right,” the Blade says. “Who are you again?”

He’s already leaving the room. But he hears Tubbo say, “I’m Tubbo, and that’s Tommy,” and he hears the Blade’s strangled, “Heh?” in return, and that’s a bit weird, but he doesn’t pay it much mind. They’ve inducted a strange man into their little band, but that doesn’t matter much, as long as he’s as good with his sword against mobs as he is against people.

-----

It starts like this: a massive netherite sword, left unattended, works amazingly for cutting through iron.

A massive, enchanted netherite sword also works amazingly for setting things on fire.

It’s a mess after that, a blur and a rush of adrenaline, but they cut up all of the other cages and chains to give the other prisoners a chance to get out, and then they’re running, and the place is on fire behind them because for a labyrinth under an arena, there’s a surprising amount of wood around here. And there are people shouting at them, and a few people that try to attack, but the Blade mows them down and laughs, and there’s blood and lots of it, too, but in the moment it doesn’t seem to matter so much.

He’s got Tubbo by his side. Will at his back. The Blade close at hand. And in a way he can’t quite describe, it feels very right.

-----

It starts like this: Tommy doesn’t know where he comes from.

He sort of vaguely remembers things, sometimes. He thinks he had a family, once. If he strains himself, he can recall fuzzy impressions: someone holding him, safe and warm. Someone’s laugh. Someone singing. An overwhelming sense of being secure, of being protected, of being loved.

But if he strains himself, sometimes he remembers other things, too. Darkness, terror, screams. Fear and disorientation, and a voice, clear as day: “Take your brothers and go!”

He’s turned that piece of dialogue over and over in his mind so many times. It’s all he has, the only hint he has to go on. It’s a male voice, clearly an adult. He likes to think that it’s his father. Though maybe he shouldn’t hope for that; he doesn’t remember what happened, but he’s sure it was dangerous, and if that person was his father, he might be dead. Probably is, in fact. There’s a reason why he ended up in an orphanage, after all.

Those are his first clear memories, at that orphanage. They estimated him at about five or six, and he’s pretty sure they were right, so he really should have at least a few memories from before. But he doesn’t, and the woman who looked after him the most told him that he probably went through what she called a trau-ma-tic event. Because trau-ma-tic events, she said, sounding out the syllables just like that to make sure he understood, could sometimes make you forget things. And sometimes the memories come back, but sometimes they don’t.

She was always kind to him. They all were, at that orphanage. And then that orphanage got shut down and he got shipped off and never saw any of them again, because kindness is no way to run a business. Kindness doesn’t get you many places.

It was orphanage after orphanage after that. They always looked for excuses to get rid of him. He was a problem child, the particular kind that always gets pegged before their mouths even open. He’s never understood it. Something about the look in his eyes, maybe. Not that it matters; he got put in the same orphanage as Tubbo at twelve, and they ran away together and didn’t look back.

No point in crying over dropped diamonds. No point in longing for something he can’t have. Can’t remember.

But sometimes, he lets himself wonder what his life would be like, if he’d gotten to keep that first family he’s certain that he had. He wonders what they were like. His maybe-father. The brothers that he thinks might have been his. He wonders, and he wonders if it’s possible to miss people that he never really knew.

But none of that matters in the long run, not really. Because he’s got his Tubbo, who’s better than any brother he could possibly ask for. And now he’s got Will, who’s funny and charming and just as irritating as he always suspected an older brother would be, and he’s got the Blade, who’s strange and sarcastic and so skilled that it’s scary, honestly, and they’re on their way to scam a king, and there’s nowhere to go but up from here.

He looks around him, at his friends and he thinks, Yeah. Yeah, this is good.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #tommyinnit #tubbo #wilbur soot #technoblade #dsmp fic #/rp #chapter warnings for implied dehumanization and implied slavery in a gladiator-like context #cat writes fic #long post #anastasia au #the wind that remakes #it's time!!!! it's here!!!! anastasia au!!!!#i hope you all like it #i'm excited to finally start sharing it with you

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kinktae · 5 years ago

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bitchin’ || pt. 9 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 4.7k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: fanservice. that's it. that’s the tweet.

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness!

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

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PART NINE

"Okay, just sign your name here, and she'll come to get you when she's ready." The cheery girl at the front desk told you.

You offered her a polite smile, walking over to the sit in the waiting room.

You always disliked these chairs. We were willing to bet money that these chairs have sat in this very room since your university first opened, worn out, uncomfortable, and outdated. Sure, maybe you had been in a bit of a sour mood lately – what with your fake ex-boyfriend dirty dicking you and all – but as you sat there, metal rod poking your spin, you couldn't help but frown.

As you sat there contemplating your school's renovation budget, you hardly noticed the sound of another student walking in and over to the front desk, your stomach churning as you put a face to those loose curls.

"Hey, stranger! What are you doing here?" Kiri's white teeth blinded you, walking over to you once her business with the receptionist was done.

You could feel one of your eyebrows twitch in irritation, swallowing down your scoff as she sat next to you.

"Trying to schedule my class next semester." You responded uninterestedly, contemplating whether or not the suspension from decking Kiri in the face would be worth it.

"Oh, just picking up a termination form. One of our newbies wants to pull out of Kappa Alpha Tau."

Shocker...

"Hey, so sorry to hear things with Jungkook and you didn't work out, by the way." Kiri flashed you a sympathetic look.

An audible breath left your lips, disbelief no doubt visible on your every feature. Did Kiri seriously think you didn't know it was her who home wrecked? Or was she just that much of a raging bitch?

"If you ever need someone to, like, talk to, just know that I'm here. I totally know what you're going through."

Your hands found themselves curling into tight balls in an attempt to keep your hands from shaking. Kiri looked as cool as a cucumber in front of you, perfectly composed, not a single hair out of place.

Then it hit you.

Of course. It all made perfect sense now.

From the moment she came up to you at your event offering her condolences, she had been trying to drive you off from Jungkook. She was planting seeds of doubt about their break up and his character. Manipulation and intimidation were her cards, and she played them well.

Fine. If the rules were being bent, you might as well disregard them altogether. You relaxed your hands.

"Oh, no worries. It's all good, I mean, it's not like we were actually dating." You shrugged.

Rule #2: No one can know the truth.

"What?" Kiri blinked, her smile faltering for just a moment.

You edged closer to her, cocking your head in mock surprise.

"Oh... did you not know that? That our entire relationship was contractual?"

"What are you talking about?" Her full brows furrowing.

You let out a sigh, "Yeah, so, basically, Jungkook would get his frat to fund my event if I helped make you jealous so that you'd come crawling back to him."

The polite mask that Kiri had plastered on finally cracked, her next words clipped and curt.

"What the hell is your damage, Y/N? Do you think I'm some sort of idiot how'd fall for that?"

"Good grief, did Jungkook not tell you? Weird, I feel like that's something he'd need to tell his girlfriend." You puffed out your bottom lip in mock sympathy.

Whatever resolve Kiri had built up crumbled at the way you held her stare, a note of honesty in your voice that she couldn't shake.

"I'm..." She cleared her throat, turning her nose up. "We're not actually back together yet."

"No? Really? Hmm..."

The call of your name crossed the room, and the two of you turned to look at the receptionist, ushering you over with the news that your counselor was ready for you.

You turned to Kiri with a smile, "Guess he didn't want you back as so much as he just wanted back in your pants."

Kiri looked utterly stunned, eyes wide as you stood from your seat, for once, without a clue as to what to say.

"See ya around, Kiri. Let's do lunch sometime. Oh and, happy holidays!" You fluttered your fingers at her, slipping away from her with a smugness you couldn't be assed to hide.

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"Wait... he called you?!" Taehyung laughed, eyes wide.

Yara nodded, scouring through the shelves, a specific book in mind. Belinda Carlisle was playing softly overhead and Yara found herself humming along.

As the holidays rolled around and everyone found themselves back in their hometowns, Yara was surprised to find Jungkook's frat brother browsing through the jam aisle in her local supermarket. As luck would have it, Jungkook's genetically blessed frat brother was from her hometown, the two somehow never crossing paths until now.

What started as a polite catchup over coffee, quickly turned into an everyday thing, the two of them realizing they had more in common than friend drama.

"He did!" Yara enthused. "He left a voicemail apologizing and rambled about how he wanted Y/N's address so he could go apologize, blah, blah, blah."

"That idiot." Taehyung rolled his eyes. He watched as she let out a noise of excitement, looking over her shoulder to announce that she had found the book she was in search of. He grinned in response.

"Anyway, I didn't call back. Because that's exactly how she wants to spend Christmas morning, with that jockstrap knocking at her door, right?"

Taehyung snorted, bringing the straw of his drink to his mouth.

"Miriam is gonna have your head on a stick Lord of the Flies style if she catches you with that drink in her library." Yara warned, to which Taehyung dismissed with a wave of a hand.

Yara was a funny girl; he was pleasantly surprised to bump into her during winter break. He could tell something was off when they first ran into each other, so he invited her out to grab some coffee. It was over a warm cup of coffee – with the most absurd amount of sugar he had ever seen – that she finally shared with him all that had been weighing on her mind lately.

Sure there was the Jungkook and Y/N stuff. Yara was beyond homicidal. Taehyung was grateful for winter break as he was positive she would have rung out Jungkook's neck had she seen him after what had happened. Taehyung himself was astounded to find out what exactly was true nature of the two's relationship, curtesy of Yara, of course. Even if it was fake, however, he knew Jungkook enough to know that the happiness he gave off once Y/N entered his life wasn't.

But more than that, the petite girl was worried about a boy, an irritating one who Taehyung happened to be frat brothers with. Eunwoo had approached her immediately after Kiri left him, spewing some excuse about only dating Kiri because he couldn't get Yara out of his mind.

It was bullshit if you asked Taehyung. But he hadn't the heart to tell Yara that, especially with the way she looked so torn up about it – unsure of how to respond to Eunwoo. He wasn't entirely sure what their relationship was like, but he figured it must have meant enough to her to have her feeling this conflicted.

So he did his best to cheer her up, inviting her for lunch and driving her to their local library, which he had come to find out was her favorite place growing up. They spent many afternoons sprawled out on the couches in the now abandoned children's section of the library... or at least until the crabby librarian yelled at them to leave.

If Taehyung was honest, he didn't care much for literature – he was a math guy – but the way Yara would shove a book into his chest with wide eyes and an 'if you don't read this and tell me your thoughts on it, I'll literally die,' seemed reason enough to keep showing up day after day.

"Have you talked to her about Eunwoo, yet?"

Yara flinched at the blond man's words.

"Why don't we ever talk about normal people stuff? Like the weather, or what sports team played last night."

"Yara..."

"Oooh!" She exclaimed suddenly, "I know, let's talk about President Reagan. Did you hear his speech about tearing down the wall in Germany? Crazy stuff–"

"Dude, why are you so scared to tell her about Eunwoo? You told me." Taehyung interrupted, quirking up a brow. Yara held his eyes for a moment before sighing.

"I just don't want to bring it up to Y/N, you know? She has enough going on..."

"So? She's your best friend. She'll want to help."

"Exactly! She's going to want to comfort me and make me feel better – which will just make me feel worse." Yara groaned, leaning back against the bookshelf.

"I'm... not following." The frat boy admitted.

Surely girls aren't usually this hard to understand.

"Look, I know you'd only known me for a little while, but let me pencil you in. I have a reputation, okay? Yara doesn't get hung up on some dumb boy." Yara wagged her finger at him.

"Does Yara usually talk about herself in the third person?" Taehyung chuckled.

"Yara," she continued, paying the boy no mind, "is an independent woman who likes one night stands and sex without strings. She doesn't like clingy boys getting into her head and confusing her."

Taehyung nodded, "So basically, Yara is scared of catching feelings."

"Shh! Don't tell Yara about what Yara doesn't want to hear." She turned her nose up at him, pushing herself back off the stand to march away from him. Taehyung reached for her arm without hesitation, stopping her departure with a sigh.

"Look, I don't mean to be on your ass about this, but clearly, you feel something for this kid. Otherwise, you wouldn't be spending all your time pining over him."

Taehyung immediately wished he could take back those words as an offended look fell across the petite girl's face, her hands falling onto her hips, clearly displeased.

"Pining? You think I'm pining over Eunwoo?"

Taehyung shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to navigate this situation. As much as he liked Yara, she did spark a healthy dose of fear into him.

"Well... I mean... you're spending your whole break with me just because I can give you a ride to the library so you can read sad romance novels and cry."

"First of all," Yara began, "I happen to enjoy your company. You're a good listener and, frankly, very nice to look at."

Surprise fell over Taehyung, "Nice to look at?"

"Oh, don't act like you don't know." She waved him off, "Secondly, I've never cried. I've let out a sniffle at most."

"Fine, so you're not pining over him. Just get back together with him." He responded.

"I can't."

Taehyung frowned, "Then turn him down."

"I can't do that either." She frowned right back.

"Dude."

"I'm scared, okay!" She whined, thumping a foot against the library's carpeted floor.

"Of what? What's holding you back from going back to Eunwoo?"

"...He told me he loves me."

"And?"

"And I don't even know what that means!" Yara threw her hands up in exasperation, the sleeve of her swear falling down her forearms. "I don't know how to love him back or be a good girlfriend – which I know is what he wants from me."

"Yara, I hope you don't feel like you don't owe Eunwoo anything. Because you don't." Taehyung grew serious, which only caused the torn girl to pout.

"I know, I just... I mean, I don't hate him. But it's scary. Whenever I'm dating someone, I get all up in my head like... Am I supposed to be this someone's person? Possibly forever? What the fuck!"

"No, I get it. It's a lot of pressure." He shrugged powerlessly.

"Exactly! I don't want to have to try and love someone. I want to do it. Like... not to sound like a sappy idiot but sometimes I think about all those stories I read," she gestured towards the books beside her, "about feeling a spark when you kiss your person and just... I dunno. Would be fucking nice, instead of this complicated bullshit."

Yara was far from a hopeless romantic. As much as she loved to read about romance, she had an innate urge to flee the moment the word love came around. Still, she could appreciate the idea of it.

"So then forget about that stuff. Forget about labels and expectations. Just be with whoever you want to be with. Have fun, worry about the heavy shit later."

Taehyung had a very soothing effect whenever he spoke. His tone was low and lovely, and despite the way Yara's head was still running a mile a minute, she appreciated the boy's docile nature. Certainly made her feel a whole lot less anxious.

"I want to. That's how this whole thing with Eunwoo started, ya know?" She admitted, crossing her arms over her chest. "But all men are the same. They say they're fine with keeping it casual, but they always end up falling for me, which, duh, understandable..."

The blond boy let out an airy snicker, a direct challenge to Yara's words.

"Something funny, Tae?" She pressed.

"C'mon, that's not true." He rolled his eyes breezily.

"Oh, yeah? Tell that to my four ex-partners who are all still in love with me."

"Maybe you just haven't met the one. You know... your knight-in-no-strings-attached-armor."

"I'm telling you, no such guy exists." Yara emphasized with a poke into Taehyung chest.

He grabbed the jabby finger reflexively, his long fingers wrapping around the small digit, setting his drink on the nearest shelf.

"Yara."

"Seriously, I've done my research! You're looking at a hot commodity, buddy. I may be a raging homebody, but I am very efficient—"

Suddenly, the petite was trapped against the bookshelf with Taehyung hovering over her, a large hand on either side of her head.

"Please stop talking."

Yara's cheeks flushed in surprise as she met the handsome boy's warm eyes, growing even hotter as he leaned over and pressed his mouth against hers.

He smelled distinctly of vanilla, and it sent her stomach fluttering, reeling in the way he gripped her waist, pulling him into her. She would've lost herself in the feeling of his soft lips moving against hers if it weren't for a cough ringing out from somewhere in the library.

Yara broke the kiss short, ears red as she brought her hands to wrap around her torso defensively, trying her hardest to ignore the way her heart was pounding against her chest as if trying to escape.

"You kissed me!" She scoffed, trying her hardest to seem unaffected. Taehyung shrugged.

"You kissed me back."

Oh god, this was bad. She felt all light and giddy tucked away in this corner of the library, the gorgeous tall man still close in proximity, looking at her through a smirk.

"Yes, well... I'm a very go with the flow kind of gal." She defended, brows furrowed adorably.

"Relax, Yara."

"Well, what the hell was that precisely?! Do you just make out with all your library buddies? Is there some sort of library buddy étiquette I'm not aware of?"

"I kissed you because I wanted to. Kissing is fun." He shrugged. "Some guys just want that, you know."

Son of a bitch.

"You got balls, Goldilocks. Understood. Message received, loud and clear." Yara acknowledged through narrowed eyes.

"Happy I could help, bookworm."

A corner of her mouth turned upwards, admittedly amused.

"Just so we're on the same page... you're not in love with me? You just smooched me for fun?" She looked at him skeptically.

"Sorry you had to find out this way." Taehyung joked, earning him an eye roll.

"And you don't have some ex-lover you need to make jealous?"

At those words, the frat boy laughed heartily, head shaking a firm no.

"Wicked."

Yara hopped onto the balls of her feet, hoping to catch the blond's kiss once more when her mouth met the hardcover of a book instead. She sank back down with an annoyed huff; Taehyung had pulled a book from the nearest self in reach, holding it up between them to pause the eager girl's ministrations.

Poking his head out from behind the book cheekily, he flashed her a lopsided grin.

"Easy there, tiger. What about Eunwoo?"

Yara held his eyes for a moment, wondering how she hadn't noticed what a pretty brown they were until now. She let out an appreciative hum.

"What about him?" She raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk on her lips that had Taehyung leaning back over to meet it with one of his own.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me." You greeted him with a cautious smile as he slipped into the chair across from you.

You were nervous, to say the least, watching the tall man shift in his seat, trying to grow comfortable despite the uncomfortable circumstances.

"This place is disorienting." Erik scanned the mall cafeteria before flashing you a charming smile. "Thought you'd get tired of waiting and head back home. I apologize for my tardiness."

"No worries. I still don't know my way around at the mall, and I've been home for weeks." You grinned back.

A pleasant beat of silence passed between the two ex-lovers, each taking a moment to consider the other. Erik looked a lot older than he did in high school; he had on a brand new pair of glasses that suited him far better than the ones you remembered did. His hair was combed and styled smartly so that they would stay out of his eyes. A stark contrast from the long-haired boy you had come to know these past few months.

Dammit. Your eyes fell onto the red table between you two, cheeks growing warm as you realized your thoughts had drifted back to Jungkook, even with your ex-fiance sitting across from you.

Erik's voice rang out, "I'll be honest. I wasn't expecting you to call me."

"I wasn't expecting me to either." You confessed, your hands intertwining on the tabletop.

Really, you didn't have much reason to be nervous. I mean, it was Erik. Despite the end of your relationship, there was no bad blood between you two. It wasn't the first time seeing him since the breakup either... maybe it was why you had called him that had you so on edge.

You weren't sure exactly what you wanted from Erik. Company? A distraction? Maybe what you were asking of him was unfair, but as he placed a hand over yours reassuringly, you found the wall you had set up crumbling down.

"I can help you, but you need to talk to me, Y/N. If I could read minds, I would be a much richer man." His brown eyes rolled dramatically.

You chuckled. Same dry wit you remembered.

"I met someone."

"Is that what you wanted to tell me? Y/N, you're allowed to date other people. I understand your hesitation, but really, it is time you moved on–"

You let out a scoff, yanking your hand away from the now laughing man. You flashed him a feigned look of irritation, silently grateful for the change of pace in conversation, finding it much easier to talk when things weren't so tense.

"God, you are still just as full of yourself as I remembered." You teased.

Erik shrugged, "Not to sound like a cocky asshole, but is it not warranted?"

You let that question run through your mind. You suppose if anyone had reason to have a big head, it would be Erik. Intelligent, handsome, hard-working– everything a mother would want their daughter to have.

"It is. You've always been perfect..." You mused, a hint of sadness in your tone that Erik picked up quickly.

And all at once, his entire demeanor changed, a serious expression settling behind those frames of his.

"Tell me about him." He instructed calmly.

And so you did— the beginning, the end, and all the beautiful bits in between. You told him about a boy that challenged you in ways you never imagined– a boy who made you feel like the sun. You spoke of every stupid conversation you once thought of as meaningless but now weighed heavily on your heart and mind.

You were mad at him, of course. There was a reason you had been ignoring his calls and ordered Yara to keep him in the dark of your whereabouts, after all. But the more you talked about him, the more you lit up. Erik noticed it too. How could he not? It was that very way you spoke with an uncontainable passion that made him fall in love with you in the first place.

He watched with utmost concentration for the vocal inflections of your words, the slight movement of your brows that always seemed to speak your mind before you did.

It was clear to him that this boy wasn't just a boy. He could hear in the choice of words you used, words that were static and void of variables. But there were certain words you seemed to dance around he realized as you came to the end of the story... words that were evident to all but you.

"So... Analysis?" You breathed out, chest deflating as you took in Erik's frown.

"Above all... did you find out if he used protection? I don't want to presume anything about... was her name Kiri?" Erik paused, continuing once you nodded back at him, "but your health should be your number one concern."

"I had a friend of his ask him on my behalf. He says he used protection... I went ahead and got tested anyway, though, and I'm all good thankfully." You told him.

Whether or not Jungkook had passed along some sort of STI was heavy on your mind the next morning after you kicked him out. Thankfully, Taehyung was more than happy to get the answer you need but were still too damn pissed off to seek out yourself.

"Good." Erik sunk back into his seat, a hand coming up to run through his hair as he considered his next words. You suppose you were grateful to be able to talk to Erik like this still. Sure, he was blunt and sometimes stared at you like you were some case-study, but he didn't bat an eye of judgment at the news of the contract, for which you were grateful. He had known you for too long to find it peculiar that you'd pretend to be someone's girlfriend in exchange for furthering and fulfilling your passion project.

If anything, that was precisely in line with your character. He liked to think he instilled some of those traits into you.

"Well, frankly, I am sorry to hear this happened to you. You're a great girl; you deserve better than that."

Your neck warmed at Erik's words, slightly taken aback.

"Oh, um... thanks, that means a lot coming from you." You expressed your gratitude shyly.

Erik nodded back at you, "Seriously. It was very shitty of him to string you along for so long and for sleeping with Kiri despite knowing how you felt."

"Oh."

"Oh?" He frowned, not expecting your response.

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, pausing to watch a woman with a stroller walk past your table.

"Well..." you cleared your throat, "I'm not actually sure that he knows that I, um, like him... like that."

God, this was mortifying. The first time you had admitted you liked Jungkook and it was to your ex-fiancé? Sometimes you swear you were the protagonist in a mediocre rom-com film and no one was telling you.

Erik paused, "I see. And does he know now?"

"...No."

"I see." He sat up, fingers tapping against the table in interest. He quirked up a brow at you. "Perhaps it wasn't just him who was dishonest."

You scrunched your nose at him, not liking what you were hearing. It wasn't anything that hadn't already kept you up, tossing and turning in bed at 2 AM, of course. You had a feeling this was where this conversation would lead to. Erik, as genius as he was, was fairly predictable in this sense. Rational, dependable... nothing like the spontaneous boy you had fallen for.

"So? Even if he knew, what would that change? He slept with her..." You grumbled stubbornly.

"And maybe he wouldn't have if he had known."

You crossed your arms, "You don't know that."

"You're right. I don't. I don't even know the guy. But you do." He continued, offering you a suggestive look.

Huh. Did you think that would have stopped Jungkook? And even so, would that fact alone be enough to get you to forgive him?

"I... I don't know." Was your conclusion, pulling a hum from Erik.

"Guess the only way to know would be to discuss it with the meathead himself."

"I just... I don't want to get my heart broken again. I, quite literally, didn't sign up for this." You placed your face into your hands, hating how rational Erik had to be.

"My guess? He didn't either. It seems as if you both got more than you bargained for." He shrugged.

"He's definitely not at all what I was expecting..." You trailed off glumly.

When you first met Jungkook, he was obnoxious, cocksure, and grotesquely unbothered. You swore you had never hated anyone more on the first meet. But as you came to know him, you found in him a lot of what you wished you found in yourself. Approachable, flexible, spontaneous...

You just wished it all didn't have to hurt so bad.

"You and I are a lot alike, you know." Erik spoke up once he noticed you fall silent. " And I only realized this recently, but I think that was our downfall. When I asked you to marry me, what I was asking of you... Well, it was unfair. Because I know I would never accept that if I were in your shoes."

Your head shot up at his words, hands quick to wave at him dismissively. Asking him to meet you here was not to discuss what had gone wrong in your relationship, and you didn't want him to think that it was.

"Erik, that's okay you don't have to—"

"No, no, what I mean is... we made perfect sense together and it didn't work out in the end. This meathead of yours is nothing like you and maybe it's for the better. You said it yourself that he makes you feel important and formidable." He pressed on.

"Are you trying to imply the notion of opposites attract? Because I personally believe that's a myth and that we're drawn to those similar to us—"

"Puzzle pieces."

"Wha— Huh?" You blinked, blind-sighted by the calm man's sudden words.

Suddenly, Erik readjusted in his seat, leaning in close as he nodded his head.

"Think of life as one big puzzle, and everyone you meet is shaped differently, right? Yet somehow... they fit. We find those that complete us. And they're not necessarily opposites but—"

"But different pieces in the puzzle." You sighed, understanding the metaphor.

You raised a brow at the intellectual man, "That was uncharacteristically poetic of you. I thought you were a man of science... since when do you rely on literary devices to get your point across?"

Erik let out a dramatic sigh, fingertips pressed to the rip of his glasses, leaning back into his seat as if showing his greatness.

"I'm a growing man, Y/N. Science helps you understand the mind and the body, but as far as the heart goes... there's only so much it can tell us." He tutted wisely with a wag of his pointer finger.

"Wow. I dig this character development. I quite like this new you."

"Wanna get married now?" He deadpanned suddenly, a laugh ripping out of you at his unexpected words.

Erik grinned at the familiar sound, also finding the humor within his joke. He was pleased to see that if anything, he could at least momentarily take your mind off of your heart's turmoil.

"Ask me again in another three years." You rolled your eyes, grinning wide, to which Erik threatened that if Jungkook didn't by then, then he just might.

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porkchop-ao3 · 3 years ago

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A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 66)

Where Next?

Thanks for your patience guys ❤ This one is pretty short, I'm sorry about that, but there is action coming, promise. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter with cute little Jack 😊

Tagging @emily-strange and @actuallyhansolo ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

I didn't see much of Arthur for a couple of days. Things were strange at the camp, there was no sense of permanence at all, there was plenty of talk about what next, where next? Some people had their answers, but mostly the camp was quiet with everyone in their own bubble of quiet contemplation. Everything had fallen apart in a matter of days and suddenly everyone had to figure out what to do next.

I just waited patiently, doing what I could for the group. I hunted and provided some meat for everyone to fill their bellies with, it helped us to keep warm. It wasn't the toastiest of locations, so far north, but it would do until we had our plan.

Arthur had spent the past two days with Charles. They had broken Eagle Flies out of prison after nightfall and they were up first thing the following day to be with Rains Fall. He was meeting with the army; things were not good and he was hoping to salvage some sort of deal or relationship of trust. That's where they were as I was sitting by the fire, wrapped up in a blanket and keeping an eye on Jack for John and Abigail, who were nearby discussing their plan. All I knew of it was they were wanting to get as far away from this place as possible. I wondered if we would ever see them again, or if they would keep on going further and further until the only evidence we'd ever have of their existence was a letter in the post once or twice a year. It made me sad to think about it, but I couldn't for one second protest it. We couldn't have much of a happily ever after, not after the things we'd done. We just had to make the best of things.

"What're you doing, Jack?" I called out when I saw him wandering a little too close for comfort to one of the geysers.

"Just looking," he shouted back to me, though he stopped and turned around to smile at me. He was still smiling. It astounded me, honestly, he'd taken everything so well.

He did ask about Dutch once or twice, wondering when we were going back to him. Abigail was usually the one to tell him the truth, but softly, carefully, while John and the rest of us sat tongue tied, unable to think of the right words to satisfy a four year old in such a situation. Jack usually responded with silence, and I couldn't tell if his silence was a signal of sadness or indifference.

I watched the boy as he picked up a pebble from the ground and then eyed up the geyser. I knew what his question was going to be before he opened his mouth.

"What would happen if I threw this inside?" He called. I exhaled a chuckle and went to answer, though the words got stuck. I didn't actually know.

"Uhh," I vocalised cluelessly, "I s'pose it'd shoot back out again."

"Can I try it?"

"Best not," I chuckled, "the speed that thing would come out– I don't know. I wouldn't if I were you, sweetie. What if it falls down and bops you on the noggin?"

"I'd be okay," he assured me, and I cocked my brow a little.

"Your momma might not be, I'm supposed to be looking after you. I imagine she'd toss me in there if you got hurt on my watch. C'mere."

He kept hold of the pebble but did as he was asked, and came trotting over to me with a pair of rosy cheeks.

"Sit by the fire, okay? It's freezing out here, ain't you cold?"

"No," he told me, his tone was high and it was very obviously untrue.

"Your nose'll drop off if you ain't careful," I warned, a little smirk on my face. He touched his pink nose and considered it for a moment.

"It didn't fall off when we were in the snow."

"The snow?"

"With Uncle Dutch and Hosea, and everyone else. Before you were here," he said, gazing down at the rock in his hand, scratching at a piece of mud caked onto it until it gathered under his fingernail. He wiped it on his trousers.

"Ohh," I nodded, I'd heard about it before, their short stop at Colter after the Blackwater fiasco. "Wow, seems like a long time ago, I bet. You've been to so many places since then, ain't you?"

He hummed his agreement and nodded, not looking up at me.

"You like going to different places?"

"I guess so," he shrugged, "but sometimes I get bored."

I chuckled, "yeah, I think we all do," I smiled at him and stroked his hair for a moment. It was feathery soft and light, and I sighed at his innocence. Such a sweet boy. I had no doubt that Abigail and John loved him and were the best parents they could possibly be to him, but I wished he'd had more normal beginnings in life. And I hoped he'd forget some of the awful things he must've seen and heard.

"How're you feeling, about going away with your ma and pa?" I asked him.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" I repeated, leaning my head on my fist as I leaned forward and down to his level.

"We're going away. Uncle Arthur, and you, and Sadie won't be there? And all the others?"

"No, sweetheart, we won't. But I'm sure it won't be the last you'll see of all of us, hm? Right now, your mama and papa only wanna take you someplace safer, you understand that, don't you?" I asked softly and he sighed, his little shoulders jerking with it.

"I guess so," his voice was small and I gave his shoulder a little squeeze.

"Keep your chin up, little prince. Your parents love you to the moon and back, a million times over. You're gonna be okay," I smiled at him, even though he was staring at the rock. I considered it for a moment. "Can I see that?"

He looked up at me in question, and noticed that I was looking at the rock. He paused for a second before handing it over. I inspected it for a moment, it looked much smaller in my hand than it did in his but it still filled up most of my palm. I clutched it tight in my hand, then looked at Jack as I kissed my knuckles. I closed my eyes for a few moments, and I heard him giggle.

"What're you doing?" He questioned and I scrunched my face up, shushing him softly.

"I'm concentrating," I murmured, and continued the performance for a few more moments, his giggles continuing until I slowly cracked one eye open, and then the other.

"What did you do?" He stood up and turned to me, his hand going to mine, trying to pry my fingers from the stone, his cheeks round and rosy with his grin.

"I filled it with my love Jacky, and a little extra that I got from Karen, Mary Beth, Tilly, Hosea, Kieran, Molly, Sean, Mr Trelawny, Reverend Swanson, Mr Pearson, Uncle…" I made a show of gasping for a breath after listing off so many names, then swallowed before deciding to mention the names which followed, "and Javier and Bill too, and Mr Strauss… and Dutch."

My voice had wavered and I needed a second to compose myself. I cleared my throat, and was grateful that Jack was preoccupied by looking at the grey lump of rock in my hand. It was warm from my body heat and he gasped a little when he took it from me, marvelling about it's temperature.

"But it's a big rock. Plenty of room for more love. How 'bout you ask everyone to hold on tight to that rock, and put all their love and care into it. So, as long as you've got that, you'll be safe, and you'll be able to remember all of us and know that we ain't ever leaving you, not in our hearts."

"Okay!" He did a little jump and squeezed the rock in his hand again, holding it to his chest with the biggest smile I'd seen all year. It warmed my heart despite the freezing temperatures. I glanced up to where Lenny was sat wrapped up in his winter coat, a book in his gloved hands.

"Why don't you go ask Lenny if he don't mind taking a break from reading?" I suggested, and Jack immediately spun around and ran over to him.

I watched him from a distance, as he excitedly explained the concept. Lenny chuckled and looked up at me from across the camp. He put his book down, laced his fingers together and pushed them out to stretch out his hands before giving them a shake and rocking his head from side to side, limbering up before taking the rock from Jack and cupping it tightly between both hands and squeezing it as hard as he could, eyes intently focused on them. I grinned and laughed to myself, loving his commitment to making the boy smile. I knew everyone would be just as eager to please, not afraid of making a fool of themselves.

For the rest of the afternoon Jack went around the camp asking people to contribute to the pebble. I was glad to have given him something to amuse him, and perhaps something to remember us all by, even if it was just a simple rock. It would be nice if he remembered us all each time he looked at it, if it didn't get lost along the way during whatever trips he and his parents were about to embark on.

In the late afternoon Arthur came back. Charles was not by his side but he quickly reassured us that he had simply gone to visit the Wapiti Reservation after the negotiations hadn't exactly gone to plan. I tried not to listen to the details, despite this horrid feeling that built in the pit of my gut as days went by. I kept trying to reason with myself that Arthur had been putting his life in danger far longer than he had known me and had always come out alive. It didn't stop the voice in my head that would whisper about his luck running out…

Before I spiralled into those thoughts I got on with preparing dinner. As long as I had Arthur back in my arms at the end of the day, whatever chaos had found him while he was gone was not worth thinking about. Torturing myself was not going to help anyone, especially not Arthur, who would no doubt grow tired of my whittling about his well being. I just had to keep telling myself that soon this would all be over.

–

"Canada, I'm thinking. Would be their best chance. They can't stay here much longer after all of that mess we left behind after the negotiations today," Charles was saying over his helping of rabbit stew. He'd returned from the reservation, where he'd apparently spent the best part of the evening convincing them to start packing up to leave. "Rains Fall seems hesitant, not that I don't understand him. They've been moved around enough, all they want is to settle and have peace so they can live."

"Doesn't seem like they'll be able to do that here though," John said, and Arthur murmured a sound of agreement.

"He's coming to terms with that I think. He knows they'll have to move on sooner or later, it's just hard for him to accept right now, even harder for Eagle Flies. He's even more against the idea," Charles replied.

"He's got a lot of passion and fire in him, that man. He ain't quite learned though, that sometimes passion like that can get you killed," Arthur said. Charles silently nodded in agreement and looked down at his plate. "Canada, you say?"

"Canada," Charles nodded. "And I'd go with them."

"Really?" My brows raised. A quick, sharp pain went through my heart as in a second it became reality that the group was splitting up. These people I had lived with for so long and come to love, we were all going separate ways...

"Yeah. I don't have any other ideas," he chuckled a bit, then shook his head and became a little more serious, "I like it, with them. I feel closer to my mother."

I smiled, comforted by the fact that even if Charles wouldn't be with us, he'd have a family.

"Arthur," I heard from behind. It was Sadie's gravelly whisper and my heart dropped. I knew what she was going to ask. Arthur, sitting beside me around the fire, glanced over his shoulder and nodded. Then he wordlessly leaned over to kiss my temple, and got up. He stepped over the log we sat on and headed away from the group with Sadie.

They were going to the O'Driscolls' hideout. More bloodshed. More danger. I took a breath and met Charles' eyes.

"I'm happy for you Charles. You deserve to be with people who care about you, who'll all keep each other safe. And the fact they also share your heritage, that's even nicer," I smiled at him and he nodded, "when do you think you'll go?"

"Soon as I've convinced them," he chuckled a little again, the corner of his lip lifting.

"I'll miss you," I told him. It seemed to startle him but only a little, he was often cool and calm and not even surprising words of emotion could throw him off for long.

"I'll miss you too," he said after a moment, and the words sounded almost like a revelation, like he also hadn't fully wrapped his head around the fact he'd be saying goodbye to us all until now. "We'll write to each other, all of us, yeah?"

"Definitely," I nodded, my smile widening, "and if I ever find myself in Canada, I'll have a free place to stay, right?" I teased just a little and he laughed.

"Of course.”

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #fanfiction #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfic #rdr2fanfic #atink #rdr2 #reader insert

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depressedacadamia · 3 years ago

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How do you passive aggressively say ‘Fuck you’ in flower? Part III

Summary: New owners, new friendships and new beginnings... but maybe there's a linger of old history there aswell.

A/N: Helloooo!! It's writers month starting August so I've posted all the prompts and there are also the fandoms you can request. Please send a request, its always fun to interact with the readers and hear what content you want to see!! That said, here is chap 3!! I hope you enjoy and make sure you comment and enjoy!! <3 from phi phi!!

Read on A03 Read part I on Tumblr Read part II on Tumblr

Will couldn't believe his luck. Of all the things he could have been told, it had to be this.

He held the printed note in between his thumb and forefinger as he grumpily read aloud the note hidden inside the fortune cookie. Calypso looked excited as her hands gripped the side of the table with passion.

“So? What does it say? Are you going to marry skull boy and live happily ever after with a cat?”

Wills scowled. “ No, that’s ridiculous. I hate cats. Maybe a dog. Or a goldfish.”

“Yeah, but goldfish don't live for as long as a cat could,” Calypso pointed out, her pinky finger pointing towards Will. “Now read. I want to hear your fortune.”

“Ugh. You aren’t hesitant to take what you want but sometimes you lack intuition; try and be more intuitive."

Calypso looked at him, with disappointment ranging across her face before shrugging and returning to her food. Will, who was expecting a much larger reaction, was offended.

“Excuse me? You begged to hear my fortune and now you just ignore it? You’re a terrible friend. I bet you wouldn’t run into a fire to save me.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

Will gasped. Calypso continued her sentence, with an overall sense of coolness. “ I’d send the fucking fire patrol, police, moutaion resucuers, heck, I’d send the grandma next door to me if she had even a slim chance of getting you out of there.”

“Awwww, You do love me!”

Calypso grunted. “It’s only because I refuse to let anything other than myself kill you. Now stop hugging me and scram; you’re ruining my course of digestion with how hard your arms are wrapped around my stomach.”

But Will refused to oblige as he wrapped his arms around his best friend's stomach, listening to her complaints and completely ignoring them.

“What do you think it means?” Calypso spoke over a mouthful of food.

“What?”

“The fortune cookie thingy. What do you think it means?”

“It means I should be more intuitive, that's what it said.”

Calypso facepalmed, now understanding why the fortune cookie told her best friend what it told them. Even to the most oblivious person, it was obvoius that what the fortune cookie had told Will was not to simply be more intuitive but instead to -as the author would say- Open your fucking eyes and see what’s in front of you . But, as the author, I can tell you that William Andrew Solace is such an oblivious character that if I were to shout that at him, he would simply stare at whatever was sitting in front of him.

The next Saturday

“Are they coming?” Meg tugged on Will’s sleeve. “ Will, are they going to come today?”

It had seemed that, surprisingly enough, Meg had taken a great liking to Will’s so-called new ‘friends’ and in particular- Nico, which just so happened to be perfect for Will. It was already terrible that Will had to deal with them showing up only once in his beloved shop, let alone the idea that they may come again the next weekend and ruin it entirely for him, like the previous.

“I don’t know Meg, why do you care?” Will asked, his tone slightly agitated, out of all the people who had visited him at the shop, Meg just had to take a liking to these.

“Because that Nico guy is super cool. But don’t tell him I said that- and you guys can’t make out in my shop, no matter how cool he is.”

“This isn’t your shop and it isn't Calypso’s either, Dya know that, right?” Will reminded Meg as she went on about the new customers.

A sharp jab, that Will could now confidently identify to be Calypso’s elbow, hit his side. “Oi, What do you mean it ain't my shop- it basically is. It’s not like the previous owner ever cared about it.”

Will’s ears perked up at the words ‘previous owner’. “What do you mean Previous owner? Do they not own it anymore?”

“Did you not hear?” Calypso stopped braiding the rose into Will’s hair after seeing his surprised expression. “ We have a new owner. They offered the old one loads, and I mean loads of money for this shop. Apparently it’s this young sophisticated woman who just throws money whenever she wants.”

“Why do you sound so happy?”

Calypso’s finger’s in Will’s hair stopped braiding for a second. “What do you mean why do I sound so happy? We have a new rich owner. That means we will get better conditions. Imagine all the better quality wrapping we can get for the bouquets!”

“But if they're the kind of person to just throw money about, will they really take care of what's theirs? Or will they just send their own cronies to keep everything tidy, while paying them the minimum possible? And in this case, those cronies are us!”

“You’re imagining the worst of the new owner.”

“No, I’m not! Why am I the only one who hates the idea of a new owner!” Will yelled, grabbing the rose in his hair and ripping it out, throwing it at the entrance of the door. Will wasn't one to raise his voice but he couldn’t help but feel frustrated- why was everything changing so much!

Maybe it was fate, maybe it was destiny, or maybe Will was just that unlucky, but in that very moment, Nico and his friends all walked in.

It seemed they had all been causally conversing as they walked in.They were quickly silenced by whatever was occurring within the florist; Percy was halfway through grinning and dropping his jaw at Will's sudden outburst. Afterall, the last time he had seen Will this agitated was in middle school when he stole Will’s plastic stethoscope that his father had supposedly gotten him.

“Are we interrupting?'' Frank asked. He may have been on Nico’s side but he figured that perhaps barging in on an argument wasn’t the most respectful thing one could do.

“Trouble in paradise?” Nico smirked as he picked up the ruined rose that Will had thrown to the floor in a rage. He twirled in between his fingers and looked at the shade of pink; he glanced back at Will and decided it greatly complimented his skin tone and the cute blush he’d get whenever he was angry.

He frowned at the ruined rose and placed it on the counter before walking back to Will.

“The trouble only started when you set foot into this shop,” Will retorted, very much unappreciative of his presence at this moment. He still couldn't believe that the shop was getting a new owner! Sure, the old one had barely shown up and basically left Calypso entirely in charge but how could Calypso be so casual about it?

Nico ignored his attempt at a snide comment and walked past him, gesturing with his finger to follow behind him. “I want a flower. The one you threw. What was it, a Rosa Ausrumba?”

Will, slightly surprised that Nico had managed to identify the binomial name for the rose, raised his eyebrow. “Yeah.. how did you know?”

Nico shrugged, not offering an explanation as Will went ahead and fetched him a packaged gentle hermione rose. As he handed it over, he couldn’t help but let his mind wonder who the rose was for. It was a soft pink, the same type of rose that Calypso insisted he wear everytime he worked at the shop. Will knew that pink roses symbolised a lot of things but the question was, what exactly?

Was there anyone Nico knew who he’d give that rose to? It wouldn’t make sense for it to go to Leo, afterall, it wouldn't compliment his hair or skin tones: rather, it could work with someone like Hazel- since she was his sister, it would make sense for Nico to give it to her.

Calypso had always forced Will to wear that species of pink rose because she said that he had the hair for it and his blush and the colour of the rose were indistinguishable but most of all, it was the friendly gesture she had made when he first started working there.

He felt Nico’s fingertips brush against his as he handed the rose and a jolt of electricity sparking between them.

Shit, static shock.

“Ow!” Will jerked back, dropping the rose and rubbing his hand. He was about to ask Nico what the hell before he realised that the rose was on the floor. It wasn’t like the rose was going to be ruined or destroyed now it was on the floor or that it particularly angered Will to see the rose there. It simply saddened Will so much that he felt compelled to pick it up; maybe it was because he was so used to being forced into wearing it everyday or maybe because it was meant to be Nico’s, either way, he bent down to retrieve the flower.

It seemed that Nico had the same idea because their heads collided and Will was sent stumbling backwards onto his butt.

“Ow!” He cried again, rubbing his head. Nico felt his eyes widen at Will’s words and quickly he grabbed the rose and kneeled in the space between Will's legs, with his hand scanning Will’s face of any injury.

“Are you okay?”

Will frowned at the considerate question, wondering if Nico was mocking him or not. “Why do you care?”

That question threw Nico off guard. Why do you care? Why did he care? That was a good question he had yet to ask himself. Why did he care so much about Will? Why did he decide to come back? Every week nonetheless.

“No reason.” Nico shrugged. ” I just wanted to make sure your clumsy ass didn’t break anything.”

“Your head hit mine!”

“Yeah but it was you who decided to go after my flower,” Nico argued, clutching the rose in his hand. He started peeling off the wrapping until he had the rose alone in his hand.

“What the hell are you doing? You haven’t paid for it yet!”

Nico ignored him as he handed Will the rose. Obviously, Will took the rose from Nico’s hand and held it. Why did Nico want him to hold his flower for him?

“What?” Will was confused. “Why am I holding your flower?”

“Because I gave it to you.”

“To do what with?” Will inquired, his eyes oblivious. For someone who slept around, Will was not one who knew much about romantic rituals.

Murmuring something under his breath, Nico tilted his face away and let the loose strands of his black hair fall over his eyes elegantly. Will didn’t know if he had hit his head too hard but he could have sworn that Nico was slightly blushing.

“What? I didn’t catch that.”

“I said,” Nico took a dep breath, “The flower is for you and your stupid hair.”

Will must have looked relatively confused because Nico kept on talking. “Because you wear one whenever you work here? And when you threw a fit, you also threw your rose and it got ruined.”

Will, dumbfounded, simply stared at Nico. It wasn’t like he could braid his hair right here; Was this where Will was meant to thank him?

“Uh… thank you? I mean I could have easily gotten Callie to do my hair again but thanks anyway.”

Will realised that he was still sitting on the floor and immediately got up, still clutching the rose firmly in his hand, like he was afraid that the wind may just carry it off and he may never see it again.

In silence, him and Nico walked back to the counter, where surprisingly enough, everyone was getting on quite well. Percy and Frank were challenging Piper and Hazel about some vague petty thing,while Leo and Annabeth spoke to Calypso and Jason told Meg about Nico.

Annabeth had noticed quite quickly that Calypso had a crush on Leo and it seemed that Leo was aware as well. However, despite that, he didn’t let it get in the way of the conversation or the potential for a very beautiful friendship. He didn't like Calypso in that way. It was true that he had many previous lovers both men and women but Calypso was his friend, nothing more.

Nico noticed that Will was simply holding the rose and not wearing it like he intended him to.

“Why aren't you wearing the rose?”

Will stuttered, his face burning up slightly from embarrassment. “I..uh,well...I can’t really, um, braid my hair.”

Will was waiting for the insult. For a laugh, maybe a jeer. Instead he was surprised by the reaction that met him.

“I do. Give me the rose and sit in that chair.” Nico pointed to the chair behind the counter. Will, oblivious as ever, took a seat. He didn’t expect to feel familiar hands working on his hair. It felt like deja vu, feeling Nico’s fingers weave themselves into his hair, it felt like they were in that storage room all over again, making out on the small couch.

Wondering if Nico was also reminiscing that moment, he turned his head ever so slightly and caught Nico’s eye.

Nico turned Will’s head. “Stay still, I can’t do your hair if you keep on moving.”

Do my hair? He’s going to do my hair?

Will anxiously sat in the chair, fiddling his hands as Nico sectioned his hair into 3 parts and slipped the stem of the rose into one of the sections. He began braiding Will’s hair, slowly softly, dare I even say- Lovingly.

Will almost shivered when he felt Nico’s fingertip graze his scalp. His fingers braided like magic and within a matter of seconds, it felt like he had finished. Nico walked in front of Will to have a look at his handiwork from the front and reached forward. His finger brushed the side of Will’s ear and for a second, Will thought that Nico was going to gently cup his cheek and kiss him.

Instead, he reached and pulled free a small lock of hair from the front of his face so it dangled elegantly and complemented the rose that lay in his hair.

Will gulped. “ How did you learn to do hair?” His voice was extremely hoarse.

Nico’s voice seemed lower when he spoke. “My sister. I used to do her hair sometimes when we were at camp.”

Will nodded absent mindedly and focused on why his heart was beating so fast. The only reasons he knew why his heart would ever beat fast near a person would be if they scared him, forced him to exercise or if he had just slept with them.

Since Nico hadn't made him run, and they weren't sleeping together and Nico didn't make him fear for his life (yet), he was purely confused as to why his heart felt like it was a butterfly fluttering and any second, his ribcage may burst open and let it fly away and with it, his heart.,

He stared at the back of Nico’s head as he walked back to his friends who were now arguing about the difference between a white and an ivory rose.

Will did not not see Nico on Sunday at the flower shop. Nor did he see any of his friends.

Friday, Next week.

“Will, put that beer bottle down!” Calypso yelled, her entire state chaotic. There was flour everywhere and Will couldn’t tell where the kitchen started and where the mess ended.

This is what happened when he offered to babysit.

It was one thing to babysit a teenager or perhaps a 10 years old but a 7 years old? A seven year old and a 5 year old? A combination from hell itself. Overly energetic, disrespectful and disobedient, seven years olds were the worst kind of children to babysit.

It had started a while ago when his mother’s friend who’s name actually was Karen had to leave in a rush for some emergency (although Will had highly doubted it) and left her kids with Will's Mother. Being the wonderful woman she was, Will’s mother held onto them for as long as she could but she had a job, as most people did and unfortunately it was a job that required her to not enjoy her Friday nights.

This had led to her leaving the children with Will. Afterall, he was a responsible adult.

Okay fine, scratch the responsible part. She had left the children with Will because Calypso had promised to be there and in all blatant honesty, it was obvious that without Calypso, Will would be the biggest mess out there.

It seemed, however, that babysitting children was harder than both of them had anticipated.

“Callie, I give up. These kids are the devil's spawn. If they die, then tough luck for them.”

Calypso groaned and slammed her head onto the table before perking up with excitement. She grabbed her phone and dialed a number. Will overheard a vague conversation and simply watched, very confused.

Calypso set her phone down. “Okay so I have figured out how to fix this.” She pointed to the massive mess in their apartment.

“How?”

“You’ll see.”

Will didn’t trust the mischievous smile that came across Calypso’s face.

Nico was chilling on his bed with his phone in his hand, hovering above his face. He did not really have much to do so here he was, scrolling through social media. He was meant to be doing something with Percy or Jason or maybe Hazel- he really couldn’t remember and he couldn’t care less.

That was until he overheard a conversation from Jason that he could only describe as interesting. Only a few minutes later, Percy showed up very begrudgingly muttering I’m only coming because I wanna see where the little fucker lives.

As far as Nico was concerned, there was only one person who Percy called ‘the little fucker’ and why were Jason and Percy paying him a visit?

“Wait-” Nico threw his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up.”-Where are you guys going?”

“Calypso’s place. She needs some help babysitting? Or something like that. Annabeth’s call was kinda vague.”

“You’re going to Calypso’s place because Annabeth told you to?” Nico tilted his head, confusion evident in his voice. Jason took a deep breath before explaining.

“Calypso called Piper who gave the phone to Annabeth who called me to tell us and Hazel to go to Calypso’s place and help her and Will with whatever they needed help with.”

“Why is Will at Calypso’s place?”

Percy quickly interjected. “ They live together.”

That statement alone was enough to make Nico choke on the air he was trying to peacefully breathe.

“They what?” He managed to wheeze from in between the heavy coughs that racked from his chest.

“They live together,” Jason repeated innocently. “ Why?”

“Yeah,” Percy smirked, figuring out the reason behind Nico’s coughing fit. “ Why do you care, Nico?”

“No reason. It’s just a bit out of the blue.”

“So you don’t deny that you care!” Percy yelled excitedly pointing his finger at Nico. Nico grabbed it and twisted it with such ferocity, there was a crack and Percy let out a cry and pulled his finger back pouting, blowing on it like it was a hot dish.

“I twisted your finger, stop blowing on it like it’s a hot potato and let's hurry up and go please,” Nico groaned, rolling his eyes at Percy’s dramatic overreaction.

Percy, under his breath, murmured,” Somebody’s desperate.”

Nico slapped his shoulder.

When Will opened the door to his apartment, he didn't really know what he was expecting. Maybe someone like Thalia Grace or Reyna- a close friend of Calypso.

He certainly was not expecting his arch nemesis and his cronies to show up. He wasn’t in the best state of mind and he felt like any moment now, his feet may fail and he’d be out cold on the floor.

What was worse was the fact that Hazel had already arrived- without Frank as he said he ‘wasn’t the kind who liked children’. So now Will was here having to behave himself as if he were some host and they were his guest

His brain told him that this was exactly what this was.

But another part of Will didn’t agree. It was more, there was some more sinister motive behind why they were here. Sure, Annabeth had told them to come and god forbid someone disobey Annabeth but they clearly came here with their own reasons. Whether all their reasons were the same or not, Will did not know.

“What do you want?” Will deadpanned as he held the door halfway open- just like his eyelids. He was already considering shutting it in their faces. However, it seemed that Nico wasn’t having any of it as he simply pushed his way past Will, into the half cleaned up apartment.

“Oh, Nico! You’re here!” Hazel whisper-called out from the living room . She had the 5 year old’s head resting on her lap as it dozed off and the seven year old lay next to her, their eyes drifting off to sleep.

“Yeah, I’m here. What about it?”

“I thought you might want to cook something? I’m really hungry and I’m pretty sure Calypso’s been running around on an empty stomach trying to keep 2 children and a drunk person under control.”

Nico paused before wrinkling his nose. He walked forward to Will and moved his blonde hair out of his face to get a better view of his eyes.

“You’re drunk?” Nico looked around the kitchen and spotted the beer bottles. “Jesus, are you a lightweight or something? This shit ain’t even strong,” Nico grunted as he grabbed a very much incoordinate Will to the kitchen and sat him down at the counter. He got him a glass of water and rolled his sleeves up before quickly sifting through the fridge and cupboards.

“What happened to him?” Percy asked, walking slightly at the blushing Will sitting at the counter sipping water out of a straw.

“Hehee, Nico has very warm arms.” Some water dribbled out from the side of Will’s mouth as he giggled.

“He’s… wasted?” Jason squinted his eyes. “ I thought people with blue eyes were meant to have the highest tolerance to alcohol.”

“Nooooo,” Will whined. “ That’s not it. Blue eyed people are moree likeleyyy to have a dependency on alcohol. We did this in class-”

He was cut off by his own hiccup.

“Fucking hell,” Nico muttered as he pulled out ingrediants. Hungrily, Jason and Percy eyed the food.

“Whatcha making?” Percy asked, slinging his arm over Nico’s shoulder. Immediately, Will got out of his seat, objecting to this. However, before he could do this, he tripped and fell on his butt and in turn knocked his head into the floor. He was out cold within seconds.

“Did he just pass out?” Percy asked, poking at Will’s body with his foot only for Nico to be outraged and push Percy with such vigour, he ended up splayed onto the floor. He quickly kneeled beside Will and shook him gently, trying to wake him up.

“Flower boy? Hey, wake up. Will? Get up. Get up right now Will.” Nico began shaking him, his voice starting out in small quiet whispers. The alarm in Nico’s voice called over Calypso who batted her hand and laughed.

“Oh you have nothing to worry about. He does this everytime he gets too drunk. He’s a real lightweight, trust me.”

After much chaos and argument, everyone calmed down and Nico got cooking. As someone who was majoring in food tech, Jason and Percy would always make him cook meals for them. While Nico always pretended to be bothered and annoyed by this, he secretly loved it, meaning that he could make his friends smile with something he also loved- food.

Sure, he sometimes skipped meals or didn’t have time to actually eat, but he was constantly surrounded by food and making it was so chaotic but he enjoyed it and he enjoyed the rush of serotonin he’d get when he tasted the final dish.

“Food’s ready!” Nico called from the kitchen. Will had been moved to the sofa because Calypso had been told that under no circumstance was anybody to ever go into Will’s bedroom. Jason came in to the table and started laying it, as their usual routine went. Percy brought cups and Hazel, who normally did not dine with them, was talking to Calypso. They took their seat at the table and waited for the boys to finish laying it and serving food.

Nico glanced at Will who was dozing off on the couch peacefully. “ Is he not going to join us?”

Calypso shook her head. She knew when Will was feeling the way he was today, the only thing he could do was sleep it off. Nico had to admit, he was disappointed; he was hoping to see Will’s reaction when tasting the food. In fact, he had put extra effort into making it perfect just based on the possibility that Will may have been joining them for dinner.

They ate silently, with only the sound of the occasional collision of the fork against the plate echoing into the apartment.

“This is a nice place…” Percy started, trying to ease some of the tense silence away. Calypso gave him a short nod.

“Yes. It’s mine- Will and I share it.”

“Why?” Nico asked, his jealousy overtaking his actions. Was he really at liberty to ask such a question? No. Was he going to anyway? Absolutely.

Calypso raised an eyebrow at the question, while she slowly raised the fork to her mouth. “Does it matter why?”

Nico, staring at his food, paused. “No,” He sighed. “ I guess it doesn’t.”

Hazel, who wasn't allowing this, quickly intercepted. “It doesn't matter but that doesn't mean we wouldn’t like to know? Right guys?”

“Yeah!” Percy agreed a bit too passionately. “Tell us Calypso. How is it that you- someone of your high standards is living with somebody like… Will.”

Percy's abrash statement was rewarded with a hard smack to the back from the Italian boy sitting next time, glaring at him enough daggers for Percy to become Pinhead. Percy, midway swallowing, began coughing frantically which despite the urgency of the situation earned no sympathy from Nico who sat there as Percy choked and Jason gave violent slaps on his back.

“Ugh, well. We’ve known each other…” Calypso stopped. “ Are you sure you’re okay?”

Percy, almost red in the face, nodded frantically and mimed with his hands to keep talking. Jason reached over and poured Percy another glass of water.

“Uh, well… We work together but we’ve known each other for a long time.”

“How long? I don't remember Solace ever mentioning you.”

Calypso smiled slightly. “ If I’m correct, you two weren't and still aren't really on the kinds of terms where you discuss your personal life.”

“Still… I would have thought that… forget it.”

The awkwardly silent dinner continued with the clanking of cutlery against plates. Secret glares were passed along with uncomfortable shivers but all in all, the dinner managed to run smoothly. The guests helped clean up and finally, late into the night, they stood at the door awkwardly, as Calypso dismissed them.

“Are the children… staying?” Hazel innocently inquired, her eyes falling on the small children who lay asleep on the sofa behind Calypso.

Calypso scratched her head- slightly unsure herself. “Uh, I guess. Until they get picked up at least.”

“Oh… I guess I should stay to help out then?”

“No! Please, I don't want you to ruin a good night's sleep over this. I’m sure I can handle this. It wouldn’t be the first time.” Calypso reached for the door. “Get home safely.”

Jason and Percy, who realised that they were no longer welcome, did not hesitate to leave- the same couldn’t be said for Nico.

He didn’t know why he was hesitating- it wasn't as if Calypso and him were friends in any way. However, it seemed that for some odd reason there was a connection between the two that they both strongly cared for a certain blond headed lightweight. But they also both cared for a certain grinning engineer who spoke Spanish.

With his hand shoved in his pockets, he slowly turned his heel as if a magnet from afar was tugging on the metal heartstrings with his heart. His head was bowed towards the floor as he muttered the words under his breath.

“Tell him to call me when he wakes up tomorrow… We should probably talk and get everything out of the way.” Nico’s hair fell in front of his face, his eyes darting anywhere but Calypso’s face as to avoid her seeing his expression.

“Are you dating Leo?”

The abrupt question had Nico’s head snapping upwards so fast that I- the author- feared that he may have broken his neck had he moved any faster. The obvious answer was ‘no’. They had broken up long before Nico had even known someone like William Andrew Solace even existed; however, he didn't know if he could give such an honest answer so freely.

It was clear that Calypso was not just asking Nico this question for the sake of fun. She liked him.

And for some reason, Nico did not like that.

Leo wasn't his. He had his own feelings and decisions to make. But Nico didn't think she could handle the idea of Calypso being able to have both Will and Leo in her life- whether any of the relationships were platonic or not.

He had Leo, she had Will. It was only fair that it should stay that way.

But that said- If, if, he ever dated Will… would he give up Leo for the sake of fairness? Life isn't meant to serve everyone with equality. You get what you get and the rest you must fight for; Life was clearly a capitalist.

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Because,” she paused as if her reasoning was obvious. “If you are, I can’t let you play with Will or Leo like that.”

Nico snarled. “ Who said I was playing with either?”

“Isn't that what it's called? When you date two different people behind their backs?”

“I’m not dating Leo!” He yelled in frustration. Perhaps it was the wine. Or watching Will pass out on the floor and Percy poking him with his foot like an animal. Or maybe it was the fact that Will never tasted the food, but for some reason whether it was unbeknownst or not, Nico snapped. “Happy?”

Calypso smiled. “Very.”

27 notes · View notes

fanmoose12 · 4 years ago

Text

Partners

Characters: Petra Ral, Levi, Hanji Zoe x Levi Genre: Action / Mystery / Romance Rating: T

Detective!au

Summary: when Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed. And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

Chapter 6/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Сhapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Levi's fingers moved over Hange's body, as he checked and rechecked the fasting of her bulletproof vest. They were inside a police van, making the last preparations for their mission to capture Zeke.

“Stop fussing over me already,” Hange complained. “I’m more than capable of putting on a vest, you know.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he mumbled.

“Oi, c’mon!” Hange cried out. “It was one time! I didn’t properly fasten that damn thing one fucking time!”

“And you got shot,” Levi gritted through teeth.

“I was trying to save you, dipshit. You should be thanking me, not harassing about that little mistake every time we go on a mission.”

“You could have died, four-eyes. So forgive me for worrying about your safety. One of us has to.”

Hange rolled her eyes. Levi could be so dramatic sometimes. Luckily, she knew just the thing to lighten things up a little.

"What do you say about this, Levi," she nudged him with her leg, grinning widely. "Whoever catches Zeke first, gets a free dinner. Agree?"

Levi answered her by tugging harshly on the straps of the vest and sending her a fierce glare.

"This mission is not a joke, four-eyes. No bets this time. We both need to focus."

Hange huffed. "You're such a killjoy."

"At least I'm not a reckless idiot like you," he retorted, finishing his examination. He took a step back, admiring his work. "Did you check your gun?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

Hange sighed in exasperation. "Yes. You've checked it for yourself too."

"It was yesterday," Levi frowned. "Give me it, I need to check it again."

"Levi. Calm down," she laid a hand on his shoulder, making him look up at her. "Everything will be fine."

"Zeke had run away from us two times already."

"Well, you know what they say?" Hange winked, eliciting an annoyed 'tsk' from Levi. "The third time is a charm."

Hange reached back, taking a bright yellow jacket from the passenger seat.

Levi groaned. "Please don't tell me you're going to wear this monstrosity."

"Hey now," Hange chided. "It's my lucky jacket. Besides, monstrosity? You were the one, who bought it."

Levi gave her a flat look. "I was pissed drunk, Hange. I clearly couldn't think straight."

"And that means you actually meant it! You meant it when you've said that this jacket fits my bubbly personality!"

"Bullshit," Levi crossed hands on his chest. "I've never said such thing. How would you even know that I said that? You were drunker than me!"

"I was not," Hange protested.

"You always get wasted faster than me, shithead."

"Well, that time was obviously an exception."

"Really?" Levi raised an eyebrow. "Then where did I buy you this jacket?"

"In the clothes store, of course."

"And what was the name of that store?"

"Em..."

"Exactly," Levi declared victoriously. "I just proved without a shadow of a doubt that you're a fucking liar, four-eyes, and that aforementioned accident had never happened."

"Whatever," Hange turned away, hiding the pout on her face from Levi's amused gaze. "Let's get going, detective asshole, or Erwin will blow out a tantrum again."

"Erwin wouldn't get so worked up, if he took the time out of his so busy schedule to shit that enormous stick that's so up his ass he can never relax.”

"You should buy him tea from constipation," Hange chuckled. "He'll get the hint."

"And throw a mountain of paperwork on me in thanks," Levi grumbled. "C'mon, get up," he grabbed Hange's hand and dragged her out of the police van and onto the street, where Zeke's hideout was located.

"Shit," Hange breathed out, staring up at the large two-stored building in front of them. "On the blueprints it looked smaller."

"It did," Levi agreed, remembering the briefing. Erwin was very tense then, but Levi chalked it up to the importance of their mission. Now he started to doubt that. "Erwin must have known about the real size. Why did he send only the two of us?"

"You know Erwin doesn't have that much power. Besides," Hange grinned, throwing a hand over Levi's shoulders. "Everyone knows we're the best. The higher-ups probably decided the two of us were more than enough."

Hange's explanation kinda made sense. Still, Levi felt uneasy, as they slowly approached the building.

"Look," Hange pointed out at the window at the left side of Zeke's hideout. "It's faint, but there is a light coming out of this window."

"You think Zeke is here?"

"I'm not sure," Hange frowned. "I think we need to split up."

"No," Levi refused instantly. His hand fisted in her jacket, keeping her close. "We go together, Hange. As always."

"Levi," Hange smiled, laying her palm atop of his and gently unclasping his fingers. She lowered both of their hands, but didn't let go, holding his hand gently. "You know that this is the right choice. The building is huge. It'll take ages for us to investigate it together. Zeke will be long gone by the time we reach him. So stop fretting over me. Worry about the mission, okay?"

"...Okay," Levi reluctantly agreed. "But I take the left side," he gestured to the shining window.

Hange opened her mouth, obviously meaning to start arguing. But when she saw Levi's steel gaze, she sighed. "Alright, I'll go right then."

They reached the door of the building. Hange touched the handle.

"Wait," Levi stared up at her, feeling uncharacteristically anxious. Suddenly he reached out, bringing her down for a quick hug. "Don't you dare to get hurt in there, Hange," he whispered fiercely into her shoulder. "You see Zeke, you immediately call me. It's not the time to be a hero."

"Of course," Hange promised, wrapping her hands around him as well. "And the same applies to you, Levi."

Levi nodded, taking a step back. "Then let's do this. And remember, four-eyes," he showed her a little smirk. "If I catch him first, you buy me a dinner."

"We'll see who will be buying dinner, shorty."

Hange grinned and then took out her gun. She gave Levi a quick nod and opened the door, quietly slipping inside. Levi followed after her.

"Good luck," Hange mouthed once both of them were inside. Her cheerful grin was gone, a look of complete focus replacing it. She turned around, slowly making her way down the hall. For a moment, Levi stood still, watching her go. That uneasy feeling returned and intensified as Hange walked further and further away from him. Levi almost followed after her, but quickly pulled himself together. He was being ridiculous. Hange was a professional just like him, there was no need to worry about her. Besides, he was the one with a more dangerous route. He just needed to focus on finding Zeke. The faster he gets to him, the lesser are chances of Hange running into some trouble.

Levi took a deep breath and started walking, ignoring his worry as best as he could.

***

As he made his way through the dark hallway, Levi found out that most of the rooms were unoccupied. There were a few storage rooms, but other than that the building was empty. His anxiety skyrocketed upon that discovery, and he almost decided to change the plan and return to Hange. Something was wrong, he could feel it. But the room with light shining underneath its door was already within his reach. He would check it out. If there was no one inside then.... then he'd go back to Hange as fast as possible. Reaching the door, Levi slowly pushed it open. He entered, looking around. Inside there was nothing but a small lamp, standing on a window sill.

For a second Levi froze, overcome with anger. That bastard had played them again. He gritted his teeth, hitting the wall beside him in frustration.

No matter where that asshole was hiding, Levi would find him, he would find him and then—

And then Levi heard a loud scream. A painfully familiar voice was calling out his name. Levi's blood turned to ice. He whirled around, alarmed and panicked. He needed to get to Hange, fast. He rushed out of the room, running in the direction where Hange had gone to. Soon he saw her, just at the end of the hallway. Hange was chasing someone. He called out to her, but she didn’t look back, deaf to his shouts.

Levi ran and ran, but couldn't reach her. He screamed until his throat was raw, he kept pushing on, even though he was out of breath and his legs burned with pain.

Hange was still out of his reach.

Levi stopped just for a second, just to take a quick breath.

The explosion rang in that exact moment, leaving everything, except the place, where he stood, in ruins. Some distance away, Hange was lying, her body hidden by a large concrete. Her face was bloody and she kept on screaming, asking for his help. Levi wanted to move, wanted to go and get her out, she was waiting for his help, but his limbs refused to cooperate. He could do nothing, but watch.

"I was counting on you, Levi," Hange whispered in between shallow breaths. "I was sure you had my back. But you let me down. You let me die."

Hange's eyes were full of disappointment. Levi wanted to say something, to beg for her forgiveness, but he couldn't utter a single sound.

Soon Hange's eyes closed. Levi opened his in that exact moment.

He woke up with a gasp.

Sitting up on a bed, he tried to get his breathing under control. He clenched his chest, right where his heart was. It was beating so fast and his shirt was all sweaty. Levi took another deep breath.

That dream... that fucking dream plagued him almost every night. Levi had hated it at first, it reminded of his loss, of his mistake, of the biggest mistake in his life. It brought him so much pain, and yet— and yet it was the only time when he could be reunited with Hange. He could see her annoying, cocky grin and her sparkly eyes, could hear her irritatingly loud laughter and get into another meaningless argument with her.

God, two years had passed, but he still missed her. Every goddamn day. Sometimes he missed her so much, he felt like he was losing his mind. More than once, while walking through a crowded street, Levi thought that he had seen an achingly familiar silhouette. Every single time, like a goddamn fool, he'd start running, reaching out to grab a shoulder and turn around and— and see a stranger, looking at him like he had lost his mind. And sometimes, when he stayed in the office for too long, buried under piles of paperwork, he'd hear a quiet, hurried muttering. He'd glance to his left to stare at the desk that used to be occupied by her, and of course, of fucking course, there would be no one there.

There were millions of little, seemingly insignificant things that reminded him of her. And, really, Levi shouldn't be surprised about it. Hange was the most persistent person he had ever known. She refused to let him be while she was alive, so why did Levi expect to be able to get rid of her after her death?

Showing hair back from his face, as if to make these annoying thoughts disappear, Levi reached to the nightstand, where his phone was. Unlocking it, he was instantly met with dozens of notifications, all of them from Erwin. There were five missed calls, and even more texts from him.

Have a nice day, Levi, and if you need me, don't hesitate to call!

I can take care of Grim today, just text me and I'll come and get him

I'm going to visit her grave, do you want to come with me?

Levi, I know it's a hard day for you, but can you please answer me?

Is everything alright? Why aren’t you answering?

Levi, answer your goddamn phone or I'll come to check on you personally

The last text came fifteen minutes ago, and Levi very much hoped that Erwin wasn't already on his way to his apartment.

"Jesus," he muttered, writing a quick text to Erwin, explaining that he was sleeping this whole time.

Levi's eyebrows raised in surprise as he looked at the clock. It was almost nine pm, and he fell asleep at nine or ten am, just after he got back from the morning investigation. Had he slept through the whole day? It was no wonder, then, why Erwin got so worried. Levi never slept for so long. Two sleepless nights in a row was probably the reason.

And on top of it, today was the day, the anniversary of Hange's death. Honestly, it didn't matter much to Levi. The pain inside him was constant, it didn't intensify because of the date on a calendar. It didn't hurt more because it was the day he had lost her. Levi had requested a day off solely because he hated to see the pity in his co-workers’ eyes. He barely resisted from lashing out at everyone last year. And this year, with that goddamn case, his restraint was as thin as ever.

Walking out of his room, Levi saw Grim - his pet St. Bernard - lying on a couch in the living room.

"How have you been, boy?" Levi came closer to pet dog's soft fur. Grim leaned into his touch. "I kinda forgot about you, buddy. C'mon, I'll make it up to you."

Levi rose to his feet, heading to the kitchen. Grim followed after him, his tail wagging in excitement.

Just as he was opening the fridge, Levi's phone started to ring.

He answered without looking at the screen.

"I'm fine, Erwin," he replied before his friend could even ask the question. "Sorry for worrying you, though," he added a second later.

"I can't believe that you've slept for so long," Erwin chuckled. "But I'm glad you did. The circles under your eyes look truly terrible."

"Fuck you," Levi said without any real bite to it. Taking leftover pasta for himself, he picked up the package with dog food for Grim. "Not everyone can sleep for three hours a day and still look like a Greek god as you do."

"You think I look that good, huh?” Levi could practically see Erwin’s raised eyebrow and the amusement inside his blue eyes.

The corners of Levi’s lips lifted in a faint smile.

“Do you want me to come over?" Erwin asked after some pause.

Levi sighed. "You don't need to worry about me, Erwin," he bended over to fill Grim's bowl with food. The dog instantly came over, burying his face inside the bowl. Levi watched him with an affectionate gaze. "Better tell me," he said to Erwin. "What were you up to this day? How are things at the precinct?"

"There wasn't any progress made on your case," Erwin reported. "As for me, I finished earlier today, went to visit Hange's grave..." he faltered, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry I didn't wait for you."

"No." Levi answered, fighting to keep his voice even. "I wouldn't have come anyway."

He had never visited Hange's grave. He hadn't even come to her funeral. Hange's body was never found, they buried an empty casket, what was there to say goodbye to? And as for her grave, for Levi it was nothing more than a stone with her name on it and a couple of meaningless numbers. It meant nothing. Hange was an erupting volcano, a raging storm. But they reduced her to a fucking piece of stone.

"...Alright," Erwin said slowly, almost carefully. "Well, if you change your mind about hanging out, call me, okay?"

"Of course," Levi murmured. "Thank you, Erwin."

"Anytime, my friend," he promised and then ended the call.

As Levi put his phone down, Grim, finished with his food already, came to nuzzle his leg.

"You want to go for a walk, boy?" Levi asked, scratching behind dog's ear. Grim barked happily, licking Levi's palm. "How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?" Levi complained, staring at his now wet hand in disgust. Shaking his head, he quickly wiped off the snoot and headed to the front door.

After putting on warm coat and fastening Grim's leash, he walked out of the apartment.

Strolling through the night city was one of Levi's favorite past time. He enjoyed walking through the empty and dimly lit streets with Grim by his side. The chilly fresh air and the silence that was only occasionally interrupted by a passing car brought him peace and quiet he needed so much. It relaxed him more than anything in his life.

His calm state of mind, however, was ruined the moment he returned from his walk with Grim.

His phone was ringing. And this time it wasn’t Erwin.

"Petra?" he asked urgently, his heart beating with twice its usual speed. He waited for a second, but there was no answer. Sweat began to drip down Levi’s forehead. "Petra, do you hear me? Is everything alright?"

"There is someone in our office right now," she finally whispered. "It's not you, is it?"

His worry was now mixed with annoyance.

"What the fuck are you doing at the precinct at night?" Levi asked angrily.

“I wanted to do some work…”

“Jesus—”he told her to be careful, why the fuck did she not listen to him? Why did no one ever listen to him? Levi took a deep breath, calming himself down. Anger was only distracting him. "Doesn't matter now," he added more calmly. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Wait for me and don't go in there, understood?"

"Y-yes," Petra answered shakily.

"Don't do anything stupid." Levi warned and then ended the call.

Fuck, Levi thought, rubbing his face. Who would possibly want to break into their office? Was it one of Zeke’s scumbags? Or, maybe, Levi considered with no small amount of weird excitement, maybe, Petra had succeed in something he had attempted to do for months now? Could it be that she had caught the mysterious informant? Levi had lost count at how many times he had stayed in the office for the night, trying to meet face-to-face with the person who was actively helping him to fight Sannes. They always eluded him, though.

Despite them constantly providing him with vital information for almost a year, there wasn't much Levi knew about the informant themselves. He suspected that they had to be close to Sannes, it'd be near impossible to get that much intel, if they weren't communicating directly with him. However, as for the reason why his enigmatic friend was helping him in the first place, Levi had no clue. If that was personal vendetta or they just couldn’t keep quiet about the injustice, he had yet to receive at least a single hint.

Although, there was a couple of things Levi knew about his informant. First, they were an exceptional hacker, because there was no other explanation as to how they've managed to get past his password. Only one person was capable of that, after all. And second, they had a freaky, almost morbid sense of humor. The messages that were left on Levi's computer were full of stupid puns and inappropriate jokes. He had to admit, though, these messages never failed in bringing a small smile on his face.

However, that was about all he knew about the informant, and despite their indisputable usefulness, it was still unknown if Levi could actually trust them. He didn't know their motives, after all.

But maybe he could find them out tonight.

"Sorry again, buddy," Levi crouched down to pat Grim's head. "I don't have the time to bath you," he winced as his eyes darted to Grim's dirty paws. You don't have the time, he reminded himself. "Just try not to make a lot of mess, okay?"

Grim seemed to understand him all too well, and he just turned around, heading to the living room. Levi darted to his bedroom, grabbing the gun. Coming back to stand before the front door, he brushed the hair out of his face and took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for whatever was awaiting him. He straightened up and walked out of his apartment, hoping that he wouldn't arrive too late.

***

The hallway, which led to their office, was blissfully quiet when Levi reached it. It was also suspiciously empty. Levi gritted his teeth. A wave of annoyance stirred up inside.

He told her to stay fucking put!

"Petra!" he shouted, not caring about who could be listening. "Petra, where are you?"

"I'm here!" she replied, the voice undoubtedly coming from behind the door of their office. What an insufferable reckless girl! Levi had a really shitty luck when it came to dealing with partners.

“Petra!” he threw the door open with way more force than was necessary. He blinked a few times, adjusting his eyes for the darkness of the room. “I told you not to fucking go… inside.”

Breath hitched in his throat, as he finally took a good look at the office. His computer was on, but Petra seemed unharmed and next to her… next to her stood—

It couldn’t be, Levi tried to persuade himself, as he gazed at the face he longed to see for so long. It was a dream, a hallucination, some cruel trick of his mind, it just couldn’t be. Tearing his eyes away from her, Levi turned to Petra.

“P-petra?” he whispered, looking at her with desperation in his eyes. She stared back at him with the same helplessness he was feeling right now.

“It’s me,” Hange said, and now Levi was sure that it was really her. He still couldn’t believe it, but he couldn’t deny it. Only Hange was ever capable of understanding him without words.

“Hange,” he breathed out. Just the sight of her made him feel so much, his head was dizzy. He rushed to her, almost knocking her to the ground. He didn’t let her fall, though, and wrapped his hands around her. God, he dreamed of doing this for so long. Hange was so warm, so solid in his arms. She felt real. Alive. Levi pressed his head to her chest, listening to the steady heartbeat. It was the best thing he heard in his entire life.

“Please tell me this is not a dream,” he whispered, staring up at her. She looked just like he remembered. “Please tell me you’re really here.”

“I’m here, Levi,” she replied, and, oh god, how good it was to hear her say his name again. Levi wasn’t even aware that he had missed this – the way Hange pronounced his name. But as her deep voice formed the two short syllables, Levi felt like he was going to cry out of happiness. “I’m here, with you.”

Finally, Levi thought. She was finally back, and he was once again by her side. Just as it was supposed to be.

“You’re alive,” Levi said, still not quite able to wrap his head around it. “Hange, you’re really alive. I can’t believe it.”

Hange’s hand was suddenly in his hair, and Levi was honestly ready to start purring. He couldn’t remember the time when he felt so at peace.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, shorty,” she whispered into his ear.

Levi chuckled, letting a small, but impossibly happy smile grace his lips. Their embrace lasted for another long moment. Levi was reluctant to let go, afraid that if he does, Hange will disappear like smoke through his fingers. Besides, after all that pain and misery, he more than deserved this, this miniscule moment of calmness. Because something was telling him, a hell of a storm was waiting for him afterwards.

“So,” Levi said, as he finally convinced himself to take a step back and let Hange go. “Mind explaining me how the fuck are you alive?”

“That’s a really long story,” Hange awkwardly scratched her neck.

Levi scowled. “Cut the bullshit, four-eyes.”

“Alright,” Hange heaved out a deep sigh. “Could you make tea, please?”

“Of course,” Levi easily agreed, moving to do just that. “And, in the meanwhile,” he added, fixing Hange with a sharp look. “Start talking.”

“Fine,” Hange huffed. She sat at the couch that stood in the corner and lifted her head, staring at the ceiling. “Now where do to begin... Remember our last mission?”

Levi stopped the very important process of pouring the tea welding into the pot to glare at Hange.

“The mission, where you supposedly died in a fucking explosion? Are you talking about that mission?”

“Yep,” Hange replied with a sheepish grin. “So, as you probably have guessed, Zeke knew that we were coming.”

"Sannes had tipped him off about the upcoming mission."

"Right," she nodded.

Levi looked at Hange again, tilting his head to study her carefully.

"What?" she asked, squirming under his piercing gaze. "What's wrong?"

"You don't seem all that surprised about me knowing about Sannes."

"Levi," Hange smiled mischievously. "Who do you think your secret admirer was?"

"You!" Levi gasped. Now everything started to make sense - the weird humor, the ability to get through his password. "It was you this whole fucking time!"

"Guilty as charged," Hange giggled. "Shall I continue?"

"Hurry up. Tea is almost ready."

Hange watched him for another second, smiling softly, and then resumed her story. "As I said, Zeke knew about us coming. So he planted the explosives in the right wing and put a light in the window of the left wing. He thought we'd take the bait, and in the meantime, he'd finish evacuating the building, you probably noticed that most of it was already empty. But since we split up, he wasn't done yet. When I found him, he and his men were in the middle of carrying some weapons. I called you as soon as I saw him, but before I could do anything else, Zeke had done the weirdest thing – he pushed me away. I… I don’t really remember what happened next, but you know the rest," Hange sadly shook her head. "There was an explosion and then the building collapsed."

"I do know that," Levi murmured as he sat close to Hange, setting teacups on the coffee table. "But how were you able to get out? I couldn’t find you."

"Zeke..." Hange swallowed, her hands tightening into fists. They shook, either from rage or frustration, and Levi thrusted a teacup in her hands, clasping her fingers around it. Shooting him a grateful look, Hange managed to take a calming breath. When she spoke again, her voice was uncharacteristically cold. "Zeke saved me. I don't know why he did that, but when pushed me away, I was able to avoid most of the explosion's impact. His people came for him and got me out as well. I still was wounded and I hit my head very badly. I... I was in a hospital for weeks. I had amnesia and lost all memories of my old life. Zeke was there with me and he told me that I was working for him, and I— I," Hange let out a bitter chuckle. "I believed him."

"Don't you dare," Levi told her in a low voice. "Don't you dare, Hange, to blame yourself for this. That fucker did this to you. And... I did it to you. I shouldn't have listened to you, we shouldn't have split up, we—"

"Levi," Hange spoke softly, lifting the corners of her lips in a gentle smile. "If I can't blame myself, then the same applies to you."

He huffed, rolling his eyes. "Smartass. Okay, what happened next?"

Hange shrugged. "I got better. I started working for him. He didn't really trust me with anything important, just some minor tasks. Even now, he still watches me closely. And that's..." Hange sighed. "That's basically what happened."

"Shit," Levi whispered with feeling. There was... there was a lot he needed to digest. But there was something— something more important right now. "Shit!" he exclaimed suddenly. He got to his feet so quickly, he almost flipped over the coffee table. "Erwin! We need to tell him! He needs to know you’re alive!”

"Yeah..." Hange said, lowering her head to stare at her cup. Avoiding Levi's eyes. "Maybe, later? He's probably asleep right now." "You don’t want to see Erwin?" he looked down at her, a small crease appearing between his eyebrows.

"I want to see him!" Hange assured. "It's just..."

"You've already seen him," Levi finished for her, realization knocking the air out of him. He slowly sat back down. “He knows that you’re alive, doesn’t he?” his tone was accusatory, but he couldn’t help it, he felt betrayed. Betrayed by the two people he loved the most.

“Levi…” Hange whispered helplessly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Levi continued to glare at her. Anger was a better response, he decided. He’d rather appear angry than show how he truly felt – heartbroken and devastated.

Hange didn’t answer, just sat with her head hanged low. She didn’t dare to meet Levi’s eyes and held the teacup so tightly in her hands, her knuckles went white. Levi almost apologized, he hated causing her so much distress. He hated seeing Hange like this, especially now. But then— then he realized another thing.

Levi closed his eyes, clenching his fists so hard, he almost drew blood. Fuck Hange, fuck Erwin, fuck these two assholes and their righteousness. Fuck the fact that Levi loved them both so much.

“…You weren’t planning on coming back, were you?” Hange froze. So his deduction was right, Levi guessed. This time, however, it brought him no joy. With a heavy heart, he continued. “You weren’t planning on coming back and that’s why you didn’t tell me, right?”

“Levi…” Hange croaked. “You don’t understand…”

“Then explain to me!” Levi shouted. He pushed his cup onto the table and clutched Hange’s hands in his, making her finally look up at him. “Fucking explain it to me, Hange, because you’re right, I do not understand!”

“I need to get Zeke behind the bars!” Hange screamed back, her voice raw. “Ever since my memories came back to me, that’s the only thing I’m able to think about! That’s the only thing that keeps me from going crazy!”

"I want to get him too!" Levi replied just as fiercely. "What the fuck does it have to do with you not coming back?"

"Do you really not understand it?" Hange asked, exasperated. "We've tried to catch him before! But it yielded absolutely no results!"

"And so you and Erwin came up with a great plan? Which involves you not making out alive?" Levi leaned in, getting so close to Hange that their heavy breathing started to mix. "Please do tell me more about it!"

Hange suddenly deflated. "It's not a great plan, and I know it. But it's the only one that can work."

"And what is it? C'mon, tell me," Levi nudged, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I genuinely want to know about a plan that two smartest people I know had come up with."

Hange averted her eyes, as though in shame. Good, Levi thought, she should feel ashamed for her stupidity. Levi would personally make sure that Erwin feels ashamed as well.

"I'm going to expose Zeke. Once I gather all the evidence I need, the one that can't be dismissed, I'll release all the information to authorities."

"And? What part of it involves you not coming back?"

"Levi," Hange smiled sadly. "You know Zeke. I'd be dead the moment he finds about my betrayal."

Levi frowned. "You can go to the witness protection."

"Zeke has Sannes in his back pocket. Do you think that's the only important person that helps him?"

“There has to be another way. You can’t honestly tell me that this the best course of action.”

“You still don’t get it,” Hange whispered bitterly. Suddenly she jumped to her feet, coming to stand near the window. Her back was turned to Levi and even in the darkness of the room, he could see that her shoulders were shaking.

“You don’t get it, Levi! You— don’t understand what I’ve been through, what I’ve done and how much pain I’ve caused other people. After Zeke gets what he deserves, I can’t just come back like nothing has happened. It’s the only plan I agreed to, because… because I don’t deserve a better outcome.”

What the fuck?

In a second, Levi was by her side, gripping her shoulders tightly and staring at her with fury in his eyes.

“What the fuck, Hange?” he hissed into her face. “Have you gone mad?”

“Levi, I—”

“Yes, you’ve been through some shit, I get it. You feel guilty and responsible for whatever fucked up things Zeke made you do, but it’s not your fault! Zeke is the one to blame, so shut the fuck up!”

“You don’t know!” Hange cried out, pushing him away. “You don’t know what I did! And if you knew—”

“I wouldn’t care,” Levi said calmly. “I don’t know what you did and I don’t care, Hange. It wasn’t you. You were just trying to survive and I’m so goddamn happy that you did.”

“How can you be so nonchalant about this?” Hange stared at him, her expression was so vulnerable that Levi felt an acute desire to hide her inside his arms and never let go. “How can you be happy that I’m alive? A-after what I just told you?”

“Because I know you, Hange,” Levi replied softly. “I know you better than anyone in this world. And I know how kind and just you are, how much you love to help other people and how fiercely you loathe anyone, who hurts others. You’re my best friend, and, no matter what, I will always be by your side.”

For a second Hange silently observed him, as though trying to see the signs of dishonesty. And when she couldn’t see any, her lips began to tremble. There was a single tear glistening inside her remaining eye. Before, it could fall down onto her cheek, though, she wrapped her hands around Levi’s neck, hiding her face into his shoulder. Levi pulled her closer and laid his hand onto her back, patting it softly.

“Please, try not to ruin my shirt, okay?” Levi said, as Hange continued to cling onto him.

Hange let out a sound that simultaneously resembled a sob and a chuckle. “You can be such an asshole sometimes.”

“And you’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met,” Levi spoke with too much affection in his voice.

“The asshole and the idiot,” Hange lifted her face, smiling at Levi. “We’ll make a pretty good team?”

“We are a good team,” Levi allowed himself to smile back.

“I’ve missed this so much,” Hange sighed happily.

“And I’ve missed you,” Levi blurted out.

“Really?” Hange raised an eyebrow. “I thought I annoyed you.”

Levi growled, pushing laughing Hange away from him. “You’re such a dipshit.”

“And yet you’ve missed me,” she sang, and, oh god, that cocky smirk was back. Levi’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of it.

“Unfortunately,” he grumbled with a sour face.

“Your new partner, by the way,” Hange began mischievously. “She’s cute.”

“Don’t,” Levi warned, shooting her a glare.

“What?” Hange asked, batting her eyelashes and feigning innocence. “She’s really cute and she’s up to all of your standards – she’s quiet, not even a bit messy, she’s shorter than y—”

“Don’t,” Levi cut her off. “Don’t try to pretend that you don’t know why she’s not up to my standards, Hange.”

“But…” Hange frowned in confusion. “I really don’t know. Why isn’t she?”

“Because she’s not you!” Levi replied, his eyes boring into Hange angrily. “Because no one in this fucking world can replace you!”

“Levi…” Hange stared at him helplessly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“What happened to your eye?” Levi asked suddenly. He shared enough of his feelings tonight, and Hange’s sad gaze was making him feel pathetic. “It’s not just a weird fashion choice, is it?”

“No,” Hange chuckled, lifting her arm to cover the black patch. “I’ve lost it.”

“During the explosion?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I… refused to obey Zeke’s orders,” she shrugged. “He made sure that I won’t make the same mistake.”

“Bastard,” Levi was beyond livid. God, he wanted to get his hands on Zeke so fucking much. “I’ll get to him and I’ll make him pay for that. That fucker will regret ever laying a finger on you.”

"Levi..."

As soon as he had heard her cautious whisper, his anger had disappeared without a trace.

"Can I see it?" he asked, reaching up to gently touch the side of her face.

"It's not pretty."

"Please," he murmured.

Hange nodded and then moved her hand to unclasp the fasting at the back of her head. She took off her glasses, removed the patch and tentatively turned around, staring at Levi with uncertainty.

Levi didn’t think it was possible, but his hatred for Zeke grew tenfold, as he traced the scar that ran across Hange’s left eye. That vivid brown color he loved so much now became a dull, lifeless white. His feelings were probably reflected on his face, because a self-deprecating smile appeared on Hange’s face.

“I am not really four-eyes anymore, huh?”

“You’ll always be four-eyes,” Levi replied stubbornly. “Give me that,” he snatched the glasses and the patch out of Hange’s hands. Standing on his tiptoes, Levi fastened the patch and then put back her glasses. As a final touch, he gently pushed the hair out of her face. “There,” he whispered. “Now you look less of a mess.”

“Will you hate it if I hug you once more?”

Levi rolled his eyes, huffing. “Just make it brief, four-eyes.”

Hange squalled and jumped on him, enveloping him in another embrace. Levi closed his eyes, savoring her warmth. Just as promised, though, she didn’t linger for a moment too long, which Levi couldn’t help but be disappointed about. Before letting go, she pressed a kiss on his cheek, the gesture so unexpected that it made Levi’s cheeks redden.

“What was that for?” he grumbled, trying to mask his shock and embarrassment by annoyance.

“Just felt like doing it,” Hange shrugged, taking another step away from Levi. His hand twitched, as he barely stopped himself from reaching out. “Well, I’ll be going, shorty.”

Now Levi felt an almost irrepressible urge to reach out for Hange.

“…Are you going back to Zeke?”

“If I don’t want to blow my cover, I have to.”

“And… have you reconsidered your plan?”

Hange sighed. “I’ll… think about it.”

It wasn’t a ‘yes’, but still, Levi felt like a weight was taken off his chest.

"I'll walk with you," he announced, not even trying to hide the fact that he was so very reluctant to let Hange go.

"Levi...."

"Just until the crossroad," he assured.

"Fine," Hange agreed tiredly. "But only to the crossroad."

The crossroad was a five minute walk from the precinct. However, even five more minutes with Hange brought Levi no small amount of joy. Just one day ago he couldn't even dream about the possibility of walking through the city with her by his side again.

“So…” Hange began, as they started making their way down the precinct's hallways. “How is Grim? Is he—”

“Still kicking?” Levi asked with a slight smirk. “Sure thing. That dog will probably outlive me.”

“Glad to hear that,” Hange grinned. “So how is my second favorite boy doing?”

“Second favorite?” Levi raised an eyebrow.

Hange leaned in, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You’re my first favorite.”

“Shut up,” Levi rolled his eyes, feeling strange warmth appear inside his chest. “But to answer your question, Grim is fine. He misses you though.”

“Huh? He does?”

Levi nodded. “Remember that shirt you left at my place all these years ago? I guess it still stinks of you, and sometimes Grim takes it out and lays down on it.”

Levi decided not to mention that more than once he desperately wished to do the same.

“He really does that?” Hange smiled softly. “Ah, I miss him too.”

“You should come and visit him then,” Levi didn’t even try to hide the petulance in his voice.

“Maybe, I’ll do.”

"Wait," Levi stopped Hange before they walked out of the precinct. He looked skeptically at her and her thin green shirt. "Did you come here in just this shirt?"

"Yeah?" Hange smiled sheepishly. "It's not that cold."

"Idiot," Levi huffed, taking off his coat and draping it over Hange.

"Levi!" she cried out. "It's your coat, you can't just give it away."

"I'm not giving it away," he said. "I'm expecting you to return it."

It'll give you a reason to come back, Levi added mentally.

"I'll take good care of it," Hange promised, as she wrapped the coat around her. Pressing her nose into the collar and inhaling the faint scent, she smiled and followed Levi outside.

The late hour made the streets almost empty, the air was fresh, but not overly chilly. And Levi’s company made the short walk all the more enjoyable.

"Take care of yourself too," he grumbled. "Especially, with these murders..."

"Murders?" Hange frowned. "What murders?"

"You don't know?"

Hange scratched the back of her neck. "I don't exactly follow the news anymore."

As far as Levi knew, the recent murders hardly received any news coverage. Unfortunately, two dead bodies were nothing shocking for their city. But still…

“Didn’t you say that you work closely with Zeke?”

The frown on Hange’s face deepened. “I do, but what does Zeke have to do with it?”

“Hange,” Levi looked up at her. “He’s the one who had killed those women.”

“What?” Hange froze. “You can’t be serious. Why do you even think that Zeke is involved?”

“Because it’s obvious?”

Confusion was still written all over Hange’s face, so Levi cleared his throat, preparing himself for a lengthy explanation.

“The first murder happened at the same apartment complex you used to live in, and near the body I found your old glasses.”

“A-are you sure?” Hange asked a little breathlessly.

Levi gave her a flat look. “I’ve been staring at those ugly specs on your face for years. Of course, I’m fucking sure. And the second victim, who was found at the same café we used to frequent before, was wearing your yellow jacket.”

“I— I don’t understand. I knew nothing about it. And why are these murders connected to me?”

That was the question Levi was asking himself too. There was another question, though. If Hange was working for Zeke, but didn’t know about the murders, could it be… that it was merely a beginning? Could it be that Zeke’s final act would be the murder of Hange?

A chill ran through Levi’s spine. It had nothing to do with the fact that he wasn’t wearing his coat.

“Zeke couldn’t have killed those women, though,” Hange announced, breaking Levi out of his thoughts.

“And why couldn’t he?”

“He’s been out of country for almost a week. He’s supposed to come back only this morning.”

“Shit, that—” That… wasn’t possible, Levi almost said. But then he remembered. The witness— that guy described someone very different from Zeke. Could it be that he was actually right?

“Say Hange… do you know someone with brown curly hair?”

Something flashed in Hange’s eye, something that looked like realization. And then her expression, for just a second, became that of a fury. A moment later, though, Hange put on a mask of neutral thoughtfulness. “Maybe, I do,” she murmured. “Why are you asking?”

“The witness at the first scene of crime had seen someone that matches that description.”

For a long minute, Hange said nothing. She scratched her chin, staring into the distance.

“I need… to investigate this. I’ll contact you once I find something out.”

They reached the crossroad, Levi suddenly realized. It was the time for them to say goodbye. He desperately didn’t want to.

“Please be safe,” he said, before Hange left him. “Be safe and… come back.”

“I—” Hange swallowed, her eye going misty for a moment. Her lips trembled slightly, before they curved into a small, but sincere smile. “I will come back, Levi. I promise.”

And then she turned around, disappearing behind the corner. As Levi watched her go, he remembered the last time Hange left him. This time, it wouldn’t end like this. This time, he’d do his best to protect Hange. This time, she’d come back home safely.

#me when i remembered that i havent posted any content for almost two weeks #am i still relevant? do people still remember my fics? does anyone still care?#ANYWAY here' levi's pov!#i've been thinking to write hange's pov as well.........#tell me what you think #levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoë #levi x hanji #levihan fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk

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x-starshines-x · 4 years ago

Text

Second Chances- for @unbeknownsttotheworld

1700 words

K+

ships: luke x reggie, julie x flynn (mentioned)

tw: they’re dead??

They were warming up to rehearse with Julie, and Reggie smiled at him from across the garage. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He loved Reggie.

He’s always been an affectionate person. At any given time he could be found sprawled across his friends’ laps or draped over their shoulders. It was just natural for him to be physically close with his friends, but it was different with Reggie. With Reggie, it was hands cupping faces, hugs that lasted just barely too long to be casual, and lingering glances at lips when the other wasn’t looking. It was clear blue eyes, crooked teeth smiling at him, sitting close enough to knock shoulders and knees, and lyrics that were far too personal to leave his songbook. He’d written countless songs about Reggie. It was expected, he wrote about whatever he was feeling. There were songs about his dreams, his home, hell - there were even a few about his short-lived relationship with Alex, but most of the songs he’s written in the past three months have been about Reggie. When he’d presented the lyrics to “Crooked Teeth” to the band, Alex gave him a sly smile, and Bobby nodded at him. Reggie, however, clapped Alex on the shoulder and teased them about how cute it was of Luke to write a song about him. He really was in love with an idiot.

Even after 25 years, he still felt the same about Reggie, which made sense because it only felt like they’d been dead a few months. With their less than stellar home lives, it had always been an inside joke between him, Reggie, and Alex that if they had to die they’d do it together, but none of them had ever actually expected it to happen like that. How they died didn’t even matter now that they had a second chance. They could play music together, and do what they couldn’t do when they were alive. Alex had genuine love with Willie, which is something that seemed out of his depth in the ’90s, and Luke still had Reggie. He’d taken his feelings to the grave, but now that they were back, he was not about to let that opportunity go so soon.

_______________________________________________

He told Alex first, the next day. It was only fair after he’d been dealing with Luke’s pining for over 25 years. He found him in the garage, looking over some sheet music at the piano.

“I’m in love with Reggie.”

Alex looks at him with a flat expression. “Figured that one out, have ya, Lucas?”

“Oh, c’mon Alex, you could at least pretend to be surprised.”

“Nope, not after putting up with both of your shit for so long,” he responded, smiling. “Anyway, why are you finally talking about it now? Not that it’s not a welcome change from your normal ‘staring-at-him-till-he-looks-at-you-then-looking-away’ thing.”

“First of all, I don’t do that-”

“Yes you do.” he interrupted.

“-Second of all,” he resumed, ignoring Alex. “I just realized that we died, and I never told him how I feel. I literally took my feelings to the grave, and now we have a second chance, so I’m not gonna waste it, ya know?” he explains, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand and sitting down on the piano stool.

“That’s surprisingly smart of you,” Alex smirks. “But really, I’m glad that you’re finally doing something about this. If not for your own happiness, then for my patience.”

“That’s sort of my issue though, I don’t really know how to tell him.”

“Why don’t you just- and I’m just throwing out wild ideas here- talk to him?”

“It’s not that simple, Alex! It has to be perfect. He’s too important for me to screw this up by tripping over my words and looking like a dumbass.”

“But you are a dumbass.”

“Alex!”

“Okay, okay. But to be fair so is Reggie,” he relents.

He lets out an overdramatic puff of air and lays his forehead on top of the piano. “He is! But I love him, and that’s why it has to be perfect,” he mumbles.

Alex reaches over and runs his fingers through Luke’s hair, smiling at his friend’s dramatics. It’s then that Julie walks in, finally home from her date with Flynn, looking over her shoulder at the house and shaking her head.

“Reggie’s messing around in Carlos’s room and I can’t tell him to stop without looking insane,” she says, grabbing her phone from her backpack. When she finally looks up and sees the scene playing out at the piano, she stops.

“What’s going on here?” she motions at Luke.

Luke lifts his head and nods once at Alex’s questioning glance.

“He’s in love with Reggie.”

“Oh my gosh, finally!! I didn’t wanna say anything in case you thought it was weird but you guys are so cute!”

Luke’s head shoots up from the piano, looking between Julie and Alex, his own bewildered expression matching Alex’s.

“You knew?” they ask in stereo.

“Uh, duh. It’s so obvious when you guys play together, and not even a blind person could miss the way you both stare at each other when you think the other’s not looking.”

Alex is nodding at her points, but Luke himself still hasn’t processed the fact that she knew.

“So what’s the problem then? You figured out how you feel, now all you have to do is tell him!” she continues.

“Apparently, that’s exactly what his problem is,” Alex answers, “He doesn’t know how to tell him.”

Julie gives them a confused look and fixes her gaze on Luke. “Why don’t you just play one of your songs for him? I’m willing to bet that you have at least 7 about him in your songbook.” she offers like it’s obvious.

“Are you crazy!? None of those songs even begin to explain how I actually feel about Reggie.”

“Then just write a new one,” she says, once again as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

“It’s not that easy!” Luke responds for what feels like the hundredth time.

“But it can be that easy if you stop overcomplicating it,” Alex adds.

Julie nods, “Exactly! All you have to do is put your feelings for him into a song, and we already know you’re great at that.”

“Maybe I can make that work,” he pauses to think, feeling his confidence rising, “Okay, yeah. I can totally work with that! Thank you guys!” he grins at his friends, standing to pull them both into a big hug.

When they finally pull apart, Alex poofs into the house, offering to keep Reggie distracted so Luke can write in peace. Julie starts grabbing her stuff to head inside, but is stopped by Luke.

“Actually, do you think you can stay and help me with this? Um, if you’re not busy or anything.” he asks.

“Of course! Where do we start?”

_______________________________________________

“It’s perfect, thank you so much Julie,” Luke says sincerely.

In the end they finished the song in just a few hours, repurposing lyrics and melodies and lyrics from songs Luke wrote about Reggie in the ‘90s, adding modern touches and lyrics where they were needed. If he was being honest with himself, it was probably one of the best songs he’d ever written, on par with “Unsaid Emily” and “Stand Tall”._ “Second Chances” _took everything he loved about his relationship with Reggie and put it into words.

“I’m happy to help.” she responded sincerely, “Now I’m gonna go find Alex and tell him to send your boy in. Good luck, Luke.”

He felt the nerves begin to set in as she left, this was really it. He was gonna tell Reggie how he felt or die (ha) trying. He didn’t have to wait long before Reggie was warping into the garage.

“Hey, man! What’s up? Alex says you have something to show me.” he says cheerily, smiling in that way that makes his eyes crinkle around the corners, and Luke’s heart is beating in his throat.

“Uh, yeah,” he swallows, “Come sit here for a sec,” he says, patting his hand on the sofa.

Reggie makes his way to the sofa, sitting casually. He spots Luke’s guitar resting behind where Luke himself is sitting on the stool.

“Oooh! Are you playing a new song for me?” he asks excitedly.

“Yeah, I just finished it, it’s called_ ‘Second Chances’._” he answers, picking up his guitar and settling into his natural position, feeling it’s familiar weight.

He closes his eyes and starts playing the intro of the song, it’s soft but full of energy, and he feels his nerves melt away as he starts the first verse. He gets all the way to the pre-chorus before opening his eyes, but still doesn’t look up at Reggie.

His confidence builds as the music swells leading up to the chorus, and when it hits, he finally looks up at Reggie, locking their eyes and singing directly to him.

“In the whole world of missed opportunities, you’re my second chance.”

He continues singing and playing, but gets up to sway with the music, Reggie following his lead. After another minute, they’re dancing around the studio and around each other. The energy in the room is electric and they’re suffocating and breathing more clearly than they ever have at the same time. The song eventually comes to an end with Luke strumming the final chord and letting it ring, and breathing deeply. Before Luke can move his guitar, Reggie is pulling him in for an uncomfortable, clumsy kiss and it’s perfect. Luke’s guitar is still between them, it’s teeth clashing and sweaty skin, and they’re both out of breath from dancing around, but it’s perfect.

“I’m guessing you didn’t hate the song, then.”

“Are you kidding me? I loved it, Luke.” is Reggie’s response, burying his face in the crook of Luke’s neck.

Luke pulls away to set his guitar down, and grabs Reggie by the back of his neck pulling him in for a much better kiss this time.

“Hey Reg,”

“Yeah Luke?”

“Spend your afterlife with me?”

“Of course, dumbass.”

#luke x reggie #julie x flynn #julie and the phantoms #julie and the polycule #reggie jatp #luke patterson #ghost.club.fics #ruke #alex jatp

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jackrrabbit · 4 years ago

Text

excerpts/tasting menu of upcoming works

You’re in luck anon because this past week my dumbass brain decided to start like 5 different fics and not finish any of them, so I have plenty of things to preview (specific CWs included with each individual section)

As always, encouragement goes a long way for my motivation, so if you see something you’re interested in, give it a shoutout!

Also, all of these are super rough ;///; please have mercy on my pitiable first-draft skills

[BNHA] Spoiled Rotten /// Overhaul x f!Reader

Summary: You’re daddy’s spoiled little princess, but unfortunately daddy’s got debts to the yakuza and Overhaul’s going to make you work them off the hard way.

Warnings: restraints, kidnapping, harassment, drugging

“Do you know why you’re here?”

Against your will, your eyes flip up to the speaker. He’s the only one sitting, and somehow that gives him a position of power among the others. The leader?

Golden eyes rest steadily on yours, and you realize he’s waiting for your answer, so you slowly move your head from side to side.

“Didn’t know about daddy’s bad habits, huh?” This time the person speaking is behind you—the one who untied your blindfold, a thin man with lank, greasy blond hair. He’s the one who drugged me, you remember in a surge of panic, and you try to shift away from him only for him to step on the chain that connects your cuffs, jerking you back and pinning you in place.

“Careful, Setsuno. I told you not to leave marks. Let her talk.”

“Got it, boss.” The blond—Setsuno—fumbles at the back of your head and then he’s pulling the gag out of your mouth.

You open and close your mouth a few times to stretch out the stiff muscles. “Oh my gosh, was that polyester you just took out of my mouth? Do you have any idea how bad synthetics are for sensitive skin? I’m totally going to break out.”

A hush falls over the little room. You could hear a pin drop.

“…Are you complaining about the quality of the fabric we gagged you with?” the leader asks after a beat.

“You may be gangsters, but you don’t have to act like savages,” you reply primly, aligning your knees together and sending a proud look off to the side.

“Ohh…little princess deserves better, does she?” Setsuno coos. He edges closer to rub his cheek against yours and laughs when you flinch back from him. “Boss, you shoulda seen her bedroom. All pink and frilly, looked like royalty lived there. Bet they treat you like a real princess at home, huh? No wonder your daddy’s in debt.”

[BNHA] Sweet Tooth /// Bakugou x f!Reader

Summary: Pro hero AU—Your boss Ground Zero is an insufferable prick, but you just can’t get enough of the way he smells.

Warnings: none? arguing?

“Do you hear me? I don’t want you here. I don’t want you as my assistant. You can call yourself my ‘administrative support’ but you and I both know you’re a glorified janitor here to clean up my messes and I. Don’t. Want. You.” There’s a muffled bang and then the air is permeated with the acrid stench of burning. You don’t even have to look down to know that the papers (the report you spent three days of unpaid overtime trying to finish in the hopes that maybe this would convince him that you’re on his side) are going up in smoke.

And okay, you slip a little bit. Who can blame you?

“Well guess what, Katsuki? I don’t want you either.” You step as much closer to him as you can manage without literally touching him and jab your index finger into his chest—see how he likes it when you get up in his personal space. “I got placed here. I didn’t choose this. I don’t want to work for a temperamental brat who doesn’t know how to be appreciative of his staff, so the feeling’s mutual. So how about you shut up and let me do my job before the Commission decides you’re too much of a liability to let you run wild any longer?”

Bakugou sneers. He’s clearly not intimidated in the least, and dear god do you want to wipe that smug look off his face. “If you’re the best tactic the Commission’s got, they know they can’t touch me. I’m the number two hero—“

“—and you’re the number one expense when it comes to damage control and repairs. Seriously, do you think Deku goes around blowing up government buildings every other week? I’d kill to be at his agency instead of yours.”

“It was one stupid post office, and no one was hurt—“ Bakugou stops in the middle of his rebuttal and scarlet eyes narrow at you. “Wait. Deku? You’re saying you’d rather work for shitty Deku?”

He says it like the alias is an insult, and you frown. As a long-time admirer of Deku’s, you feel the instant impulse to come to his defense. “Of course I’d rather work for the top pro hero. Maybe if you weren’t so hot-headed you’d win a popularity contest once in a while.”

Uh-oh. Looks like you struck a nerve.

Bakugou leans into you and now you’re the one who has to shuffle back to keep your distance. He looks—well, murderous is a little too terrifying, so you’re going to go with pissed. Light shimmers out in harmless sparkles over his palms (it would be pretty if it wasn’t so foreboding) and the accompanying crackles make you shiver, but you hold the determined look on your face. He’s so close you can smell the fresh sharpness and witch hazel in his aftershave and under that—

—huh. It’s weird, but there’s a really sweet, really rich scent. Like…what is it? It’s wrong, out of place. Your brain is convinced that it’s not supposed to be there, so you can’t identify it. Without thinking, you inhale roughly, trying to get a better sense of the mouth-watering smell.

[BNHA] Runaways /// Dabi x f!Reader

Summary: Yandere—You were like an older sister to Dabi back when the two of you were teen runaways together; now that he’s found you as an adult, he’s never letting you leave again.

Warnings: unsafe piercing practices, don’t do this at home kids

When you turn your head like that, Dabi can see the tiny dots running up the side of your ear where your old piercings have scarred over from lack of use. Do you remember when he gave them to you? You did his first, running a needle through the lonely flame of your lighter (he offered to use his quirk, but it was still hard for him to control then so you declined) and then threading the metal through his ear. You promised it would only hurt for a second, and you were right, so he let you do the others.

Then, you’d offered to let him give you one. Just one on each ear—you already had an impressive collection of piercings, but you wanted to let him return the favor, so he did it. You were older than him and more experienced and had lived on the streets for longer, so when he held the needle in his hand and you told him you trusted him, it was the first time he’d ever thought of you as fragile, something delicate, something that he was capable of harming.

He’d chosen twin helix piercings for you, cresting the shell of each ear, silver band rings to match his. When they were done you’d pulled him to a mirror and asked him what he thought. It’d been a while after the worst burns on his face, the ones under his eyes and wrapping around his chin and down his neck, and he was still getting used to the knowledge that the wrinkled purple-red scars were never going to heal. “I look like…” he’d started.

A monster. A freak. A victim.

“A badass,” you’d said. “You look fucking cool. Any asshole who wants to pick a fight with you will take one look and know you’ve been through worse shit than whatever they can dish out, and that’s something to be proud of.”

Now that Dabi thinks about it, he probably wanted you even then.

[KNY] Moonrise /// Kokushibou x f!Reader

Summary: A shrine maiden is spirited away by a demon posing as a land god.

Warnings: references to Shinto religion

“Look up there, up in the mountains behind our shrine,” your grandmother told you. “Do you see the place where the earth rises into the clouds? Our kami lives there, in the boundary between the physical world and the celestial one, higher than any human can reach.”

You stopped crying just long enough to follow the direction of her gaze, staring into the hazy mist in the mountains beyond your village. “Kokushibou lives in the woods?” The idea of your supposedly beloved deity living off the land like a wild animal was unsettling to you.

The anxiety was obvious in your voice, but your grandmother just laughed and patted your hair. “In the woods, yes, but the legends tell us he lives in a mansion fit for an emperor. His house is so fine that our little temple could fit inside it a dozen times.”

“Does he live there all by himself? Isn’t he lonely?”

“Kokushibou may be alone, but he spends his days watching our village. He has three pairs of eyes so that he may look upon the human world, the heavens, and his own affairs without changing his gaze.” Your grandmother pointed to one of the stone carvings that had scared you earlier (the one you thought was so demonic with so many eyes in its face) and her wrinkled lips curled up in a smile that made her look like a girl again. “Can I tell you a secret?”

You nodded yes, too enthralled in the tale to remember that you’d been upset.

“Once when my aunt—your great grandmother’s sister—was young, Kokushibou came down from his mountain to watch her perform her kagura dance. When she first met his eyes she was afraid, but her fear only lasted a moment, for although he was fierce in temperament his face was as beautiful as the full moon.”

Your mouth dropped open. “Did she say anything to him?”

“No, he disappeared before she could speak to him. But she told me she always regretted not being able to thank him for what he does for our village.”

“But what does he do? For our village?”

Your grandmother’s rough hands closed over your small ones, pulling them to her mouth so she could place a tender kiss upon them. “Kokushibou protects us. In other towns like ours there are criminals, raids…even attacks from demons and other creatures of darkness. Our village is peaceful because the evil fears retribution from kami.”

“So he takes care of us?”

“Yes, all of us.”

“Even me?”

“Even you, little one.”

[Haikyuu] Fanatic pt. 3 /// Oikawa x f!Reader

Summary: Oikawa takes advantage of a devoted fan for some stress relief after a bad match (…and then other stuff happens, see [part 1] and [part 2])

Warnings: implied smut?, 18+, implied dubcon??, degradation

“Wait!” you gasp out again, craning your neck to meet his gaze as best you can from over your shoulder (still without the nerve to pick your hands up off the glass or move your ass away from him). “Wait, we can’t—we shouldn’t, it’s wrong—“

We can’t. It’s wrong. Oikawa rolls your words around in his head and almost wants to laugh again—and he would, if he weren’t so focused on the fact that in a few seconds, he’s going to get what he’s ben wanting for months. You’re perfect, still his dutiful little cheerleader, still so deeply in denial that you can’t even say that he can’t, he shouldn’t, he’s wrong. None of this is your responsibility, but you’re acting like it’s a decision you’re making together. Because you want it too, he knows, he’s sure of it. Just like all his other vapid fans, you’re the same except you’re lucky, because he’s about to give it to you.

“Yeah, it’s wrong.” His voice is low and so close to your ear that you can feel the steam of his breath splay out over the skin of your cheek. “It’s wrong…you’re so sick, wanting it like this. So dirty, my sick little slut, let me make it better. I’ll make it all better, hm? Just stay put and—take it.”

A/N: I also wrote a bunch of iwcb pt. 3 but I really hate what I wrote so I might have to rewrite it, pray for me :(

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honeypiehotchner · 5 years ago

Text

Where do broken hearts go? -- Bucky Barnes x Reader one shot

But Kay. Don’t you have an essay due Wednesday that you haven’t started? Shhh. Enjoy this Bucky Barnes angst to fluff one shot. Based purely on this picture. You’re welcome.

Summary: You and Bucky used to date, but once the honeymoon phase died down, things took a turn for the worse. Now, months later, your roommate finally manages to get you out to a bar. Only for you to run into some dumbass wearing a tiara.

“This is exactly what you need, Y/N,” your best friend, Jada, tugs on your arm. She’s been trying to get you out of bed for the past hour and she has had no luck whatsoever.

“What I need is to finish this show.” You twist your arm out of her grip, shoveling another fistful of popcorn into your mouth. You’re finally at the good part in this episode, and you’ll be damned if you let Jada ruin it for you.

“Okay, I can’t watch you like this.” Jada grabs the remote and turns the TV off, which is then followed by loud protesting from you.

“What the fuck! I was watching that!”

“You can finish it later,” Jada mutters, tossing the remote to the side. “Listen, it’s been months. Literal months. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to get back out there.”

“Make it later,” you reply curtly. “Hand me the remote.”

“No.”

“Jada, I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“Every time you say you can’t, I just hear excuses,” your best friend raises an eyebrow at you. “I’m not asking you to go out and fall in love again. I’m just asking you, as your best friend and roommate of five years, to please come get drinks with me. I miss going out to the bars and pretending to be waiting for a date. And getting sympathy drinks when our nonexistent dates don’t show. Come on, please?”

You chew on your lower lip. You have to admit, you do miss doing that. It’s been longer than months since you and Jada have enacted that master plan. It was a normal thing before you had a boyfriend and after the two of you broke up, you haven’t been back to a bar to even try.

“Fine,” you mumble. “But only because you know I can’t turn down pity drinks.”

“Yes! Thank you! Okay, you have to wear this new outfit I got you--”

“Were you planning this?”

“...no.”

“Whatever,” you smile, missing this rush of adrenaline. “Let’s do this before I change my mind.”

+++

The bar is crowded. But what bar isn’t?

You can’t help but get the sense, though, that this is more crowded than the usual Saturday night. Or maybe it really has been a long time since you were out of the apartment.

When you and your boyfriend -- none other than Bucky Barnes, the famous Winter Soldier and best friend to Steve Rogers a.k.a. Captain America, both heartthrobs to the universe -- broke things off a few months ago, your desire to go anywhere that wasn’t work-related had left your body. And since work for you consists of sitting on the couch with your laptop, that meant your desire to leave the apartment was nowhere to be seen.

The only times -- and they were few and far between -- that Jada would manage to get you out would be for food. Groceries or dinner, but that was it. No bars. No “having fun” as Jada would put it, even though you have plenty of fun. Netflix is fun. Comedy specials are fun.

As you and Jada score the last two stools at the bar, you send her a wary glance. You definitely didn’t miss this atmosphere.

It was one thing to play the game to your advantage, but when you haven’t played in so long, it’s terrifying. You’re out of practice entirely.

And the crowd certainly isn’t helping. You don’t remember it ever being this packed. How is this not a violation of the fire code or something?

“Relax,” Jada yells over the commotion. “You look like you’re going to hurl.”

“I might,” you joke, but you’re not going to. You know when you’re about to throw up, and that’s not the feeling you have right now.

When you and Bucky ended, it wasn’t because he cheated. And it wasn’t because you cheated, either. Everything was smooth sailing. It was all so...easy with Bucky. Which doesn’t make sense, you know, because Bucky is a literal block of ice sometimes. Even more so than Steve at times.

But Bucky was tender with you. You had wormed your way right into his heart not knowing he was doing the exact same to you. It was effortless. No pushing, no pulling. Just smooth. Exactly how love should be.

Then, the honeymoon phase ended.

Bucky started going on missions again. You started spending more time back at the apartment because of this -- which Jada was at least thankful for; she missed having you around. But with you and Bucky separated, it meant you weren’t talking as much.

Granted, he wasn’t available during missions. And you understood that. You also understood that when he came back, he needed his space. No offense to you, and it has nothing to do with you -- or anyone else for that matter. He just needs space. That’s just Bucky.

But he took your willingness to give him space as something else entirely.

You didn’t break up because you cheated. The accusation itself was thrown around more than once.

He accused you of it on nights when all you had been doing was watching some shitty Netflix drama on the couch with Jada. And on nights when you had been working nonstop.

After the second time, you told him that if he didn’t trust you at all, then maybe it meant things weren’t working anymore.

Bucky realized his mistake. You saw it in his eyes when he realized it. But you were too fed up with his games to even bother forgiving him then.

You slammed the door on your way out. And sent every call of his to voicemail. When you were worried you might have to block him, he stopped calling.

The two of you haven’t spoken since.

Have you thought about him? Every second of every day.

“Don’t hate me for telling you this,” Jada leans over so she isn’t yelling as much. “But I think I might’ve just seen Tony Stark.”

Your eyes go wide. “What?”

Jada discretely nods over to where the crowd has been all night. “But it could just be someone who looks like him. A creepy cosplayer. You never know.”

“It better be.” You don’t know that you can handle seeing Bucky. Not when you haven’t spoken since the breakup.

The bartender brings you a refill with a sad smile. Sympathy drink number one.

Some idle chatter flows between you, Jada, and the random guy sitting beside your best friend. He’s the classic just-got-his-heart-broken kind of guy, so you can empathize with that. He’s cute, too, and you silently cheer when he rests his hand on your roommate’s arm.

Jada’s eyes catch on something over your shoulder and you freeze, staring at her. “What?”

“Cutie staring at you.”

“Huh?”

“A cutie. Is staring. At you.”

You chuckle, deciding to play your cards. You look over your shoulder with a smile. What you don’t expect is for your gaze to fall right to Bucky Barnes.

“Fuck,” you hiss, turning back around.

Jada gives you a strange look. “What now?”

“That’s Bucky.”

Jada looks again, disbelieving. “No, that’s-- holy shit, he cut his hair.”

Yeah, he cut his hair. It looks fucking good on him, too, the shorter length. You kept trying to get him to entertain the idea of cutting it when you were together, but he wouldn’t budge. You didn’t totally mind because you did like his long hair. But the pictures you saw of him from the ‘40s? No wonder all the girls swooned over him. You fell in love with his long hair, but one look at him from the ‘40s had you falling all over again.

Just like right now. You can feel it. You know he’s still looking at you. And damnit, you want to look, too. But it’s a bad idea.

Apparently, the idea isn’t bad enough to stop you. Because you look again.

You snicker quietly to yourself as you take him in. His hair is shorter, yes, but he’s got a tiara sitting on the top of his head. The sight of that alone has you grinning. What dumbass bet did he lose?

You get a little too carried away with making eyes at Bucky across the room because then you’re spotted by none other than Tony Stark, and all hell breaks loose.

“Y/N!” You’d hear Tony’s voice from a mile away if he tried hard enough. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Hi Tony,” you reply, watching as the poor guy next to you is promptly shoved off the stool by a somewhat tipsy Tony Stark. “How much have you had?”

“Not nearly enough to be okay with seeing you and Barnes have eye sex.”

“Tony!” You smack his arm. “Knock it off. I was just laughing at the crown on princess’s head.”

Tony grins wide. “There’s that fire. We’ve missed you.”

“Sure,” you shake your head, sipping your drink. Next to you, Jada is giving you a look of sheer disbelief. “Tony you’re scaring my best friend.”

“Best friend!” Tony exclaims, looking over at her. “Both of you, come join our party! More the merrier!”

“You’re drunk off your ass.”

“Not yet,” Tony winks. “Come on, Barnes wants to see you anyway.”

“No,” you stay put. “I don’t want to.”

“Oh, give it up,” Tony yells. “He’s been moping around my goddamn tower for months, please go have sex with him or something to make it stop--”

You don’t have time for another protest before Bucky comes up next to you, pushing Tony away. Bucky Barnes. Taking every chance he can get to save the day.

Your ex slides easily into the stool. You look to your right for help from Jada only to find she’s fully facing and flirting with the guy beside her. You’re stuck.

Bucky waves down the bartender and asks for two beers.

“You’re gonna drink two? Seriously?” It’s a weak jab, but you don’t know what else to do. You’ve had speeches made up in your head for months, what you’d say when you saw him again, but they were all in scenarios where you weren’t in a loud ass bar.

“Actually,” Bucky takes both bottles in his hand, sliding one toward you. “I got one of them for you.”

If it wasn’t your favorite kind, you would’ve poured it on his stupid tiara. “Thanks.”

“Come on,” Bucky nods, standing from the stool.

“What?”

“Let’s get away from the bar,” he says. “Too many people.”

“Fine,” you huff, ignoring his hand that is stretched out to help you down. You try to walk with more than an inch between you two, but it’s so crowded that when Bucky grabs lightly onto your arm, you let him.

Suddenly, the crowd opens up, and you realize it’s because Tony Stark -- of course -- has rented and blocked off one section of the place, forcing everyone else to crowd around the bar.

You ignore the weird glances coming from the other Avengers that haven’t seen your face in months. One, in particular, is Steve.

Bucky finds an open booth and slides in, waiting for you to do the same. You do, but you keep your distance. He accepts defeat, leaning onto his arms on the table, beer bottle in one hand.

“Nice tiara,” you comment, not looking at him. “It suits you.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles, shaking his head until the plastic crown falls into his hands. He sets it down on the table, running his fingers through his hair, messing it up. You want to fix it so badly, but you leave it alone. “How’ve you been?”

“Good.” A lie. “How’ve you been?”

“Awful.”

You turn your head to look at him, not expecting that answer. “Okay…”

“Y/N, I’m…” Bucky pauses, grabbing a fistful of his hair and letting go. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” you mutter, picking at the label on the side of the bottle. “What made you come to this revelation?”

Bucky’s lips stretch into a smile. “I miss that.”

“What?”

“Your wit,” he replies. “Your ability to call me on my bullshit.”

“I shouldn’t have to be there to call out your bullshit.”

He frowns. “I know.”

“What are you doing?” You blurt. “Whatever you’re trying to do.”

“I’m trying to say I’m sorry.”

“Then just say it,” you almost laugh. He’s being ridiculous. “Stop trying to-- To drag me back in. Just say you’re sorry so I can go.”

“I don’t want you to go, that’s the thing,” Bucky pleads. “I’m sorry, doll, I’ve been so stupid. I am stupid and I don’t blame you one bit if you get up and leave right now, but I’m asking you to please, don’t go.”

“Why?” You murmur, surprised he can even hear you.

“Because I’m miserable without you. And every day I think of how I would change things if I could--”

“You can’t.”

“But I want to try. If you’ll let me.”

You stare hard at the bottle in your hands. If you had even an ounce of Bucky’s strength, the glass would be a shattered mess all over the table.

“Please, baby,” Bucky scoots closer, knowing he’s testing his luck. But what else does he have left to do? “Let me love you right this time.”

Slowly, because you can’t believe he’s telling you all that you ever wanted to hear, you look up at him, tears in your eyes. One slides down your cheek and he wipes it away, hand cradling your jaw.

You shake your head. “I can’t do this again, Buck.”

He frowns deeply, his hand slipping away. His eyes lower themselves to his lap, accepting his defeat once more.

“So you better not break my fucking heart this time.”

His gaze snaps to meet yours, thinking he’s imagined those words, but you’re smiling. Smiling, even though you’re also glaring. But he sees the hurt behind your eyes.

“I won’t,” he swears to you, hand returning to caress your cheek. “And if I do, you can kill me.”

“I might,” you giggle, scooting an inch closer.

“Good,” he says seriously. “Because I’d deserve it.”

He leans down as you tilt your head forward, pressing your lips against his in an aching kiss, one you’ve both been longing to share for far too long.

Bucky scoots closer, body right next to yours, metal arm fitting around your waist perfectly, right where it should be, right where you’ve been missing it.

You grab the tiara off the table and put it back in the top of his hair, smoothing down the strands. He gives you a strange look.

“What? It suits you.”

He laughs, pulling you into him. “Okay, doll.”

“Hey Buck?”

“Yes?”

“I still love you.”

His forehead rests against yours as he sighs in relief. “Oh, thank God. I love you, too, doll. Always.”

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