#rode past a teammate twice because he took a wrong turn

[1337wtfomgbbq]

[buckthegrump]

Falling Slowly - 6

Summary: A story of love

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1662

Warnings: Angst, people being assholes, and fluff, the start of an asthma attack

A/n: if you want to be tagged please send me an ask, Previous parts on my masterlist.

For the next few weeks you and Wanda had become really close with the boys and they had a fifth roommate you had yet to meet. But you kept going on dates with Brock and they kept giving you shit about it but he was being nice and everything he should be. Every time you would hang out with him that wasn’t technically a date he’d always push to hang out with his friends instead of yours; you were afraid they would run him off anyhow. His friends were mostly his teammates which is what you expected.

“Wanda how much booze do we actually need?” You and she were out shopping getting things for a girls night, which was much needed. “Isn’t it just us tonight, I don’t think that we will need four bottles.”

“No, my friend from my calc class is coming I told you this. She’s so much fun you’ll like her I promise.” She assured you, Wanda was typically right about these things.

“Alright well let's hurry up because we should clean at least the living room before she gets there so we don’t look like complete slobs.”

An hour later you were back at your apartment and cleaning like crazy before Wanda got a text asking to be let up. Wanda went downstairs and brought up a very beautiful redhead.

“Hi I’m Natasha Wanda talks a lot about you.” She reaches out her hand and you take it.

“Y/n. Hopefully, only bad stuff so that way you are pleasantly surprised when I’m not that bad.” She laughed at that which was a good sign. 

“No, she’s said some good stuff too.”

“Oh well, I don’t believe that Wanda knows how to be nice.”

“Y/n, I can be nice, bitch.” Wanda defended herself.

“See?” You said to Natasha mostly ignoring Wanda.

“Whatever let's start the movie.” Wanda stomped over to the couch as you and Natasha laughed.

The night went on and you were liking Natasha more and more and she insisted that you call her Nat. You didn’t really watch the movies you mostly talked and got to know one another, for example, you learned that she was roommates with the boys, which you found odd because you couldn’t imagine Natasha putting up with their bullshit. In the middle of the conversation, someone started calling you.

“Y/n, you know the rules no phones unless it’s your parents or an emergency!” Wanda was slightly drunk by this point so she was yelling. So you ignored it but then it starts ringing again. “Who is it?”

“It’s Brock?” You were confused because Brock has never called you in the middle of the night. “I’m going to answer it, it’s got to be semi-important if he’s called me twice.” You got up and walked into your room. “Hello?”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” He demanded.

“It’s girls night and we have a no phone policy, I told you this.”

“Even for the people, you're dating? I was worried.”

“Brock, what’s wrong why are you calling?” You asked trying not to let your annoyance show.

“Wow,” apparently it didn’t work. “I was just calling my girlfriend to see how she was doing.”

He hadn’t ever called you that before so you were unsure of how to respond. Being you, you elected to ignore it and move on.

“That’s sweet and I’m doing great but I’m going to go back to girls night now.”

“Noo Y/n stay on the phone with me.” He whined.

“Brock I’m getting off the phone goodbye I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You wait a little bit to see if he’ll say goodbye. He didn’t, he just hung up. “Great.”

“Is everything ok?” Nat asked you as you sit back down on the couch.

“Yeah, he just wanted to talk to me.”

“Ugh gross,” Wanda said under her breath.

“He did call me his girlfriend though.” Which earned you a gag from Wanda.

“Has he ever said that before?” Nat asked and you both ignored Wanda.

“No, we haven’t even had that conversation yet. And he just said it out of the blue. I think he might have been drunk.” 

“Well, my mom always said that if a boy has to be drunk to tell you something sweet it doesn’t count until he’s said it sober first,” Wanda said and you agreed. So you decided not to worry about it until he did something about it sober.  

You and the girls enjoyed the rest of the night by getting drunk and trash-talking the shitty movies that came on Netflix.

The next morning you woke up to a really bad hangover and were not looking forward to facing the day. You went to your first class and didn’t get anything done. You and Wanda were trying to keep the other in an upright position. You were pretty sure that the professor knew this but she didn’t seem to care.

The next class you had you had with Brock and he sat next to you but he was in a pissy mood, and you honestly were in no shape to be dealing with it. It was a workday to catch up on any assignments you didn’t have done, and when Brock opened his mouth you regretted not skipping.

“So how was last night?” He was being passive-aggressive.

“It was fun I had a good time with my friends.” Two could play at this game.

“Were Bucky and Sam and all them there?” So that’s what this was really about.

“No, it was just Wanda and our new friend Natasha which is what girls night is about, no boys.” He was silent after that until he invited you to hang out with his friends again tonight and you reluctantly agreed.

You had a four-hour break before your last class because one was canceled so you ran home and took some Advil and a nap. And it did wonders. You walked past Wanda who was getting ready for work as you walked to your next class.

You jammed the up button for the elevator three more times before returning to stare at the door. You liked taking the older elevator no one else seemed to take it and you liked not having to stop at every floor before yours. You finally heard the ding and the doors slid open, you got in and pressed the button and right before they were about to close someone slid through in the nick of time. 

Steve stood next to you and gave you a smile which you returned. You two stood in silence as you rode the elevator to the fourth floor.  Then somewhere around the third floor, the elevator stopped.

“Great this is exactly what I need.” You pressed the button as Steve chuckled at your sarcastic remark. You smiled to yourself realizing you liked the sound of his laugh.

“Maybe it will start up again on its own.” He shrugged and you couldn’t help but think about how sexy his voice was. “But I’ll text Bucky and see if he can get help.”

“You won’t get service.” He checked his phone anyway just in case you were wrong but you weren’t. He sighed heavily and you smirked a little. “Told ya so.”

“Thanks.” Steve slid his phone back into his pocket. You let out a sigh and put your backpack down and sat on the floor. Steve gave you an odd look but ended up joining you. You stared blankly at the doors and he kept looking at you. 

Should I talk to him? Probably who knows how long we’ll be in here and it’s not like we don’t know each other. What would you talk about with Wanda? Probably about things that other people don’t care about. God, I wish I had cell service I would text her and ask for help. Just think Y/n it’s just talking to someone pretend he’s someone else and just talk to him.

“Y/n?” His voice interrupted your internal freakout. “I asked you what your major is?”

“Oh, it’s early childhood studies. I want to be a preschool teacher, which ya know is totally gonna pay off my debt for college. What’s yours?”

“Criminal Justice. But that’s cool, I once thought that I could be a teacher but yeah their pay isn’t the best.” The conversation was a lot easier now that you stopped over-thinking it there were times when you couldn’t think of a question but Steve always had one up his sleeve. It was mostly about school and what you did for work. How had you gone weeks without talking to him?

After a while, you look at your phone. “Holy shit!”

“What?”

“We’ve been in here for an hour. Do you think anyone has noticed that we’re missing?”

“I’m pretty sure Bucky or one of the others will notice I don’t typically just not show up to class.” Steve’s reassurance was working until the lights went out. A stopped elevator wasn’t ideal, you could’ve held out for a while but a dark stopped elevator was a different story. Your breathing became strained, you sat down and tucked your knees under your chin.

“Are you having a panic attack?” You had forgotten that Steve was there with you for a second. And you shook your head, remembering that he couldn’t see you, you reached for your phone to turn on the flashlight but the lack of air you were getting made it more difficult than it should’ve been.

Steve was faster than you and turned his on and you shook your head no again so he could see it this time. It was asthma. You hadn’t had an attack in a long time but you knew it was because you didn’t get panic attacks this badly. 

“An asthma attack?” Nod. 

“Ok do you have your inhaler?” You shook your head no.

[kay-emm-gee]

can’t take my eyes off of you | Part 4

Pairing: Feyre/Rhysand { ACOTAR/ACOMAF series } Summary: 1950s greaser!au, pt 4/5 - Feyre gets behind the wheel, and Rhys gets under her skirt skin. Rating: Teen+ // wc: 1.9k

It wasn’t as hard as Feyre expected, going to back to school. There were the glares from Tamlin’s teammates, Lucien’s mixed glances of pity and betrayal, and of course her ex-boyfriend’s furious avoidance of looking in her direction at all. She didn’t not notice them, but she found that she didn’t care. The lightness in her steps was still the same as when she ran out of the school two weeks ago, free free free. So she just kept moving, through the halls, and through the semester, like she was practically flying.

Only when that high started to lessen a bit did she notice the reason why the glares and stares hadn’t progressed to anything nastier. Cassian and Azriel suddenly were in her line of sight more. Or, rather, just out of her line of sight. She only caught glimpses of their black jackets when she turned quickly enough or stole a glance out of the corner of her eye. They didn’t approach her, or even look at her. They were just--there. First she grit her teeth and ignored them, then she grit her teeth and tried to catch them following her. They just seem to disappear whenever she tried, like puffs of smoke.

Another week of them trailing her like shadows, and then she finally got the drop on them. It took climbing out of the ladies’ room window and sprinting back around to the hall to catch them loitering across from where they last saw her going inside. Stifling the gasps from her run, she cornered them quickly, tipped her chin up, and pinned them with a hard stare.

“Why are you following me?”

Immediately they flicked a glance towards each other. When they looked her way again, Azriel’s expression hadn’t changed: still stoic and uninformative. Cassian, however, was fighting a grin. She narrowed her gaze, and that made him lose the battle. With full-blown amusement, he casually answered, “Heard you were looking for a driving instructor.”

Feyre stared dumbly at him.

He raised an eyebrow, and Azriel cocked his head. She had to look twice, but somehow Feyre was starting to notice a glint of amusement in his dark eyes as well.

Realizing they were serious, she snorted. “The Nightwings are going to give me driving lessons.”

“Know anyone better equipped?”

“If I want to live past my first lesson, yes.”

“She’s not wrong,” Azriel commented dryly as he nudged Cassian, “if you’re the one teaching her.”

Cassian scoffed, and Feyre pursed her lips. She wouldn’t survive learning from any of the most dangerous street racers ever to hit their small, backwater town. Her heart pounded faster, just thinking about it. Still, no one else had offered her this chance before--not her father, not Tamlin, not Lucien. This could be not just her best chance, but her only chance.

So, with caution but also certainty, she replied, “Fine.”

That seemed to catch both boys off-guard. They stared at her, Azriel in curiosity and Cassian in delight. He then rattled off where they should meet for her first lesson in one short breath--as if he was expecting her to change her mind before they could make plans--before dragging a still puzzled Azriel away.

Feyre sighed as she watched them go, excitement and anticipation building as she considered what she had really just gotten herself into.

When Feyre showed up to the empty parking lot near the abandoned warehouse the following Saturday, only Cassian was there. He was grinning, and as she got closer she scowled at discovering why. He was wearing a helmet, as well as three layers of clothing for makeshift padding.

“I think I’m more in danger of your driving habits than mine,” she sniped.

“Safety first,” he said mockingly.

Feyre just rolled her eyes before stepping around him. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she forgot about her smug instructor for a moment as she relished the feel of the steering wheel under her hands. It felt good, to be in the driver’s seat, in the position of control. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she looked towards Cassian again.

He smiled back at her, this time without a trace of teasing. It was a genuine smile, one of understanding and camaraderie.

“You look mighty fine behind the wheel, there.”

“I’d look better with wind in my hair,” she replied.

Cassian chuckled, then nodded. “Then let’s get to it.”

He jogged around to the other side of the car, and Feyre felt a thrill go through her, because it was about damn time.

Four weeks of lessons later, and Feyre wondered why she bothered to spend time places other than behind the wheel of a car.

“Christ,” Cassian growled as they swung back into the parking lot and halted abruptly. “I never thought I’d meet someone with worse lead foot than Mor.”

Feyre rolled her eyes, blood still singing from the little race around town. Mor had proclaimed her a natural early on, which had made her both proud and daring. And as much as Cassian was grumbling at her now, he had been whooping just as loudly as she and Mor back on the road.

“I resent that,” Mor said haughtily from the back seat, flicking Cassian’s ear. She rode along for most of Feyre’s lessons--though not on Azriel’s days anymore, because the tension from whatever was not going on between them almost resulted in Feyre crashing into a lake--and occasionally taught her too.

“I take it as a compliment,” Feyre added, causing Mor to blow her a kiss.

Cassian groaned again, so Feyre revved the car teasingly. His hand flew out to stop her from shifting out of park, which just made her laugh.

“Scaredy cat,” Mor drawled.

He flipped her off instead of responding, and though Feyre laughed, she relented and turned the car off. As they climbed out to switch places so Cassian could drive her home, she dared ask, “Coming back for another round tomorrow?”

He just smiled knowingly at her, and her stomach dropped. “Ah.”

“Tell Rhysand hello for me,” he teased.

With a huff, Feyre grumbled under her breath, “You’ll see him before I will.”

Cassian and Mor’s laughter was cut off by the sound of the engine rumbling to life and then the screeching of tires as they pulled out of the parking lot.

Her lesson with Rhys the next day went as well as any of hers with him had: fine, until he reached over to adjust her grip, or he shifted in his seat, or laughed, or made eye contact with her. Feyre grit her teeth every time she found herself distracted by him. It was ridiculous really, because he didn’t appear to be even trying to make her lose her focus. Instead, he was patient and funny and clear in his instruction. That just made it all the more frustrating that it was all on her end.

Except, sometimes, when she’d glance at him out of the corner of her eye, she would see...something. A tenseness in his shoulders, caution and car in the way he looked at her. Those little glimpses saved her from going crazy thinking it was just her who felt that something.

Two more lessons with him later, and she couldn’t take it any longer. They were speeding down the middle of a one-lane road, but she slammed on the brakes regardless.

“Shit,” Rhys hissed, as he braced himself on the dashboard.

Feyre just turned quickly in her seat to face him and demanded, “Why do you keep looking at me?”

“To make sure you don’t drive us into a ditch,” he sniped back, without missing a beat.

She glared at him, even as he quirked a smug half-smile at her. Still, he was holding back from a full grin, and she grasped onto that. She wasn’t going to let either of them hide behind half-truths any more.

“Rhys.”

He stared at her, and she felt something in her chest unfurl, and her heart stuttered at the intensity of him. She didn’t let her words stutter, though, as she pressed onward. “Why do you keep looking at me, Rhys?”

“Feyre,” he sighed. His eyes darted away from her face. She wasn’t having it. Reaching up, she grabbed his chin and forced him to face her, to continue facing her, them, this.

“Rhys,” she drawled.

“I look at you,” he rasped, “because I can’t take my eyes off you. Whenever you’re around, I can’t help but look at you. When you’re not around, I close my eyes and I still see you. Your smile, your strength. You are everywhere, Feyre. I see you everywhere, and so I can’t ever, don’t want to ever look away.”

His voice was a whisper by the end. His eyes were closed too. Feyre smiled, and slowly leaned up and out of her seat. As her lips brushed his, she heard his breath suck in. It was the last sound she heard besides the rush of blood in her ears as the spark lit between them. Because she wasn’t kissing him any longer; he was kissing her, and it set her alight. His large hands gripped her waist tight, hauling her over the console onto his lap. Feyre bit his lip in retaliation, but then his fingers found the hem of her shirt. He smoothed his calloused fingertips along her skin, and so she ran her hands through his hair, tugging his head so she could deepen the kiss and regain control.

He let her do that, and let her shrug his jacket off his shoulders, and kiss her way down and back up his neck. Rhys didn’t stay idle during her exploration, through. His hands mapped her, kneading and teasing until she was breathing her name against skin over and over.

She was just about to reach for his shirt to take it off when the beep of a horn made her shriek. Rhys’ hands tightened around her waist, and she swore she heard him growl. The horn sounded again, along with a muffled, annoyed shout.

Rhys turned around, scowling, and Feyre peeked over his shoulder. A car was idling behind them, rumbling and honking impatiently. She felt a pang of annoyance herself (she did not appreciate the interruption), but before she could flip off the intruders, Rhys was moving. She yelped as he flipped her around, smoothly sliding from his seat to the driver’s. Before she even sat up all the way, he was shifting the stick and punching the gas. The tires wrenched against the rough pavement as they streaked off into the afternoon.

“Rhys!” she shouted, the laughter in her voice outweighing the shock.

“Best we get somewhere private, quickly,” he yelled over the roaring engine. “Unless you wanted everyone to see us ha--”

“Rhys!” she exclaimed. He shot a sly glance at her, eyes twinkling with heat and mischief. It made her stomach clench in excitement and anticipation. So one hand she intertwined with his, and the other she raised into the air, letting the wind swish and twine its way around her wiggling fingers.

Feyre whooped and felt the car thrum beneath her once, twice, before Rhys let the car go full throttle, popping the front wheels and then letting it fly.