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spencerspecifics · 3 years

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HI HI HI PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE MOREID AT PRIDE AND SOME PINING AND SPENCER THINKS DEREK IS STRAIGHT BUT HE ISN'T AND THEY KIIIITTTTTHHHHH

I absolutely love your energy fuck yes!! I’m so sorry this took forever, ive got school, work and some other personal things happening so I appreciate your patience!

No TW, B u t, a creep hits on Spencer at pride, so if that is upsetting please note that! Thanks :)

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Pride

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Garcia had been pestering Spencer about going to pride for the past week now, and it was slowly driving him insane.

He used almost every excuse he could think of. When he first turned her down, he had simply said, “Sorry, I’m going to be busy that week.” And of course, Garcia being Garcia, she stole his calendar to see what he was busy with (spoiler alert: he had nothing. Except a reminder to go grocery shopping, and email some professors and research scientists back).

So, she persisted, and he came up with a dozen more excuses; “I was considering flying out to see my mom”, “The local museum has a new interactive archeology exhibit for adults, and I want to learn more about ancient structures”, “I have to do a presentation on thermodynamics”.

None of those excuses work, as she sniffed out every lie, “Spencer, you hate flying to Vegas last minute, that archaeology exhibit has been open for months, and your calendar is empty!”

So with her persistence, and legitimate bullying, Spencer found himself finally agreeing. “Fine, but come over to my apartment before we leave so you can help me.” After all, he wasn’t really familiar with pride parades, and what the scene was like there. He was going to be a fish out of water, he already knew that for certain.

True to her word, Garcia showed up an hour before the pride parade was set to start, carrying a coffee in each hand- how she possibly knocked on his apartment door, Spencer didn’t know.

“I brought you a pick me up, that way you have no excuse to be in a bad mood!” She spoke in her signature sing song voice as Spencer let her inside, she barreled in like a hurricane. God, Spencer wasn’t ready for this.

“Thanks..” Spencer decided to reply with that lame response, and not with what he was actually thinking. He took the coffee from her wordlessly as she stepped in further, going to sit down on his couch.

“You excited?” Garcia asked as she set her cup down on his cluttered coffee table. Reid just shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t do great with crowds.”

“But you do great with disarming murderers?” “You know that’s different-” Spencer said, doing his best to argue, “Reid it is literally not. Both are anxiety inducing, but one is life or death, and it’s not pride. So you can do this.”

Spencer sighed, resigning himself to not arguing with Garcia. Because she was right, though at times her arguments sounded wild. He just had to get over this anxiety and show up at pride, he could do this, right?

Wrong. So, very, wrong. They had left his apartment with thirty minutes to spare, deciding to walk over to where pride was being held- as it was only a few blocks away in a public park.

And as soon as they got there, Spencer wanted out. There were so many people, more than he estimated (and his estimations were usually spot on.), and there was just chaos everywhere. Music, dancing, shouting, singing, drag queens running around happily. Spencer wasn’t sure what to do. He was out of his element.

Garcia seemed to sense that, though, as she dragged Spencer over to some stalls that sold pride flags, pins, and other miscellaneous pride related things.

“C’mon Reid, why don’t you look around and find something you like?” She offered up, something for him to do- something for him to stay busy with. He could do that. Spencer nodded simply, Garcia stayed by his side- looking at pride related wear for herself.

Spencer ended up deciding on a small pin that simply said; “love all”, planning to stick it on his messenger bag strap. Garcia bought a pin as well, but hers just had her pronouns on them; “she/her/hers”.

Looking at all the pride apparel was a good distraction for Spencer, he felt a lot more calmer now- though that didn’t stop him from feeling like he stuck out like a sore thumb. He’s just not familiar with this world, and it’s awkward to suddenly be in the middle of it.

Spencer was in the middle of looking at another booth that sold flags, possibly considering buying himself a small one to stick in his pencil cup at work, because Garcia left him to go compliment a drag queen- when a voice broke through.

“Hey, pretty boy!”

That was a voice all too familiar, what on earth was Morgan doing here? Spencer looked up at him as he made his way towards him. “Hey,” Spencer spoke awkwardly. Not sure what to say.

Spencer was gay. He was fine with admitting he was gay, but he hadn’t really told the team. He thought they figured it out on their own. And they probably had, but still, having his coworker see him at a pride event- it was anxiety inducing.

“What’re- what’re you doing here?” Spencer asked, stumbling over his words as he dropped the small flag he was holding back onto the vendors table.

“Oh, well I’m on the local PFLAG committee. I’m just here to hand out flyers and stuff. But I’m glad to see you’re here, I’m guessing Garcia’s here too?” He asked Spencer casually, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Spencer.

He was on the PFLAG committee? Why? To help queer people, obviously, but that had to mean he was gay or something- Spencer couldn’t stop his mind from coming up with every possible answer to why Derek was on the committee.

Spencer just nodded in response, he moved himself back from the vendors table to get out of the way, so other customers could look at the flags being sold.

“Yeah, she’s- there.” Reid pointed her out, as if on cue she came out of the thick crowd that had started to gather back up, the parade portion of pride had concluded by now, and people were coming over to the vendors section.

“Hey, Babygirl!” Derek called over to her, and Garcia somehow lit up with a smile brighter than the one she was wearing before, “Well, hey!” She responded enthusiastically, walking up swiftly to give Derek a quick embrace, which he happily returned.

“I wasn’t sure how long you were staying for, but I’m glad I caught you!” Garcia started rambling to Derek, about how the drag queen she met was so nice; “Her name was Mysteria Hysteria. Isn’t that genius?”.

Spencer just stepped back from them both, not sure what to do, not sure if he fully belonged. Pride was a nice event, it was. But the longer he stood around, the more he felt like he should be leaving. Everyone was laughing and smiling, everyone was just happy. And Spencer couldn’t stop racking his brain. In the beginning, he couldn’t stop thinking because of his anxiety, but now he was searching his brain for a reason why Derek was here and what it meant.

Of course, a stupid large portion of Spencer’s mind went to “maybe Morgan likes men”, and then an even larger and stupider portion of his mind had the absurdity to think; “maybe he’s interested in me”. Which Spencer did not even want to remotely entertain, because if he fell down that rabbit hole, he’d never climb back out.

Because yes, he did like Derek. He liked him a lot, the start for his liking towards the man was innocuous enough- which is why it was a problem for Spencer. He didn’t realized he liked Morgan until it was too late. And now he had been battling these feelings for years. Spencer wasn’t ever going to act on them, he just had to live with them- which he had been doing, which he has been content with. But this new information, about Morgan being here, being part of PFLAG- it was going to make Reid’s mind implode in on itself.

Reid decided the best thing was to say; “I’m gonna get some water, I’ll be back.” To which Derek and Garcia both nodded to, and Spencer was off, away from the vendors stand and the only two people he knew at pride.

And while that was a good thing, it was simultaneously not so good. Because now he was alone, overwhelmed, and thinking too much. And now he had a task to do, find himself some water.

That task seemed to be more difficult than anticipated, as the prides layout was a confusing maze, spencer had to pass in front of a group of drag queens in order to get to the food trucks that were on site- but he eventually got there.

He walked up to the first food truck he saw, it didn’t matter what they sold, he wasn’t getting it.

“What can I get for you?” The cashier asked him, “Just a water, please.” He ordered, the cashier nodded and pulled a bottle out from a cooler that was nearby within the truck, handing it over to spencer as they told him his total, a dollar twenty five. Spencer paid quickly, stepping back and away from the food truck, as he wasn’t sure where else to go now. He didn’t want to go back towards Derek or Garcia, he honestly wanted to go home.

He just needed a minute, some space and time to breathe and relax. He was stressing himself out. And about what? Nothing of goddamn importance, just a stupid crush he had been living with for a while now.

Spencer had been leaning against the back the food truck for not long, only a couple of minutes as he was absorbed in thought as he fiddled with the cap on the water bottle.

He was doing his best to follow the grounding techniques he had learned, something to help him calm down, when suddenly- a stranger emerged out of the crowd.

“Hey there, handsome.” The man said confidently as he strode up to introduce himself Spencer. Spencer looked up to meet his eyes, the man in question was a fine looking guy, chiseled jawline, long shoulder length hair, a bit of facial stubble. He was handsome. “Hello,” Spencer answered hollowly in response. In an ordinary situation, he would try and seem more lively- but he wasn’t in a normal situation, not at all.

The anxiety of attending pride was stress enough on its own, but now knowing the guy he had been drooling over for years was here- and worked as a PFLAG volunteer? It was enough to make him lose his mind.

The man didn’t seem to notice Spencer’s empty response, however, as he answered suavely in response; “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the way. I’m Fabian,” Thankfully, the man- Fabian, didn’t stick his hand out for a handshake, instead casually pushing his hair back a bit.

“I’m Spencer,” Reid replied simply, knowing it was best to ride this odd social interaction out, rather than try and fight it. “That’s a lovely name,” Fabian complimented, “Is this your first time at pride, Spencer?” He asked him casually, taking a step forward, closer to Spencer. He was all too confident for Spencer, he too comfortable with invading Spencer’s space. If Spencer could’ve, he would’ve stepped back.

“Uh, yeah. My friend dragged me along.” Reid explained, twisting the bottle cap back onto his half empty water bottle. Fabian nodded, “Your boyfriend didn’t take you?” Fabian asked him. That was a leading question, Spencer had alarm bells ringing in his head the second he heard it. “No. He- um- he met up with us here.” Spencer replied unconvincingly, Fabian obviously did not believe a word he said.

“Well,” Fabian took another step forward, practically blocking Reid in against the back of the food truck, leaning in farther to whisper in Spencer’s ear; “I don’t see him around. So, why don’t you and I get out of here? Hm?”

Spencer wasn’t sure of what to do. He wanted to kick this guy in the crotch and just book it, but he wasn’t sure if his FBI status would protect him in this scenario. He wasn’t sure what could protect him in this scenario.

“Pretty boy! There you are!” A saving grace broke through, and suddenly Fabian was stepping back, and Morgan was walking up.

Thank god, thank fucking god, that’s all Spencer could manage to think as Derek came to stand beside him. “Hey, babe.” Spencer said, cringing at his voice, at what he just said. But that feeling only lasted for a moment as Fabian was still standing right there, staring them both down now.

Spencer could only throw his wish in the sky and hope Derek caught it coming down, ‘please catch along to why I’m calling you babe’ Reid was trying to say.

And Derek caught it, “Hey, baby, was worried about you. Who’s your friend?” He said in his smooth voice, a voice Spencer couldn’t forget. He especially couldn’t forget now, being called ‘baby’ was something Spencer especially could not forget.

“I’m Fabian, you’re Spencer’s boyfriend?” Fabian asked, as if them both calling each other ‘babe’ counted for nothing. “Yeah, I’m Derek.” Morgan responded simply, sliding his hand around Spencer’s waist as if to prove a point. Fabian just nodded, looking between Spencer and Derek one last time before talking; “Well, it was nice to meet you, I’ve gotta get going. See you.”

And then, he was off, fast walking away from Derek and Reid, escaping the terrible situation he had created. Fabian quickly disappeared into the thick crowd, and by then Spencer had his hand squeezing his water bottle all too tightly- as evident by the terrible crunch sound it made. He was too anxious to let go.

“Hey, are you okay?” Derek asked him softly, pulling his hand away from Spencer’s waist. “Can we find somewhere else- can we go sit down?” Spencer asked him quickly. Reid didn’t want to talk about it right this second, right where it had happened. He wanted to leave, he wanted to leave pride and never come back.

Derek didn’t ask a single follow up question as he led Reid away from the food trucks, taking him back towards the vendors stands, and then a bit further back, into the normal-not-so-pride-parade-filled park area. Somewhere less stressful, less scary.

“What did that guy want?” Derek asked Spencer casually as they made their way towards a bench that was sat under a large oak tree. Spencer didn’t speak right away, instead he waited until they were seated to start talking.

“He was trying to flirt, but then he wanted me to leave with him.” Spencer explained as he took a deep breath in, just being away from all the loud sounds and sights was helping him calm down. Derek rubbed Spencer’s back in slow, circular motions as Spencer kept talking.

“He was a classic example of a narcissistic personality, it just made me so uncomfortable- he invaded my space.”

“He was a creep, Reid. Simple as that,” Derek kept rubbing Spencer’s back slowly, Spencer nodded. “I know. Sorry, it shook me up.” Spencer attempted to apologized, and Derek was immediately having none of that.

“Reid, no. Don’t apologize for that, don’t you dare. He was a creep, I’m sorry you got caught up with him. It’s okay if you’re shaken up. We can stay here until you feel up to going back, or we can leave. But I’m not leaving you.”

And so they sat for a good amount of time on that park bench, at one point Derek stopped rubbing Spencer’s back, instead just keeping his arm stretched out against the back of the bench and against Spencer’s back. Spencer loved it, but he knew if he thought about it for too long he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking. That was his biggest problem, he couldn’t stop thinking.

He had to know, he decided, he couldn’t just wonder why Derek was on the committee for PFLAG. He wanted to know, he had to.

“Derek?” He spoke up softly, sounds of laughing and shouting and music were still heard in the distance, but they were safe from the sounds under the tree. “Mhm?” Derek hummed in response, looking up at the aforementioned tree that was providing shade for them.

His eyes were tracing the way the branches curved and bent around each other, it was something he did to pass the time. Spencer thought he was extraordinary for it, Derek loved to see where things went; he was curious- after all these years, and all the bad they had seen together, Derek still loved to search and find the beauty.

“Why are you on the PFLAG committee ?” Spencer asked him, it was thankfully an innocuous enough ask to not draw too much of Derek profilings side out to pry apart his question. Derek shrugged, and was quiet for a second before responding, “I know what it’s like to be a scared kid, unsure of his identity. If I can help someone through that, that’s all that matters. Same reason I’m in the BAU, to help people.”

Spencer stayed quiet, Derek’s reason was so sincere and so sweet and kind- and only driving him to think further. Was Derek still unsure of his identity? Was he an ally? Why did he have to make Spencer swoon so hard without even trying?

“So, you’re just an ally?” Spencer approached Derek carefully with that question, not wanting to impose or be rude- but just feign simple curiosity, praying Derek wasn’t using his profiling skills right now to decode Spencer’s fake motive.

Derek didn’t notice, thankfully, as he chuckled lowly in response; “No, pretty boy, I’m bisexual. I don’t really tell the team, but it’s not confidential information. Plus, Garcia found Grindr on my phone. Can’t hide anything from that girl.”

Spencer nodded, mumbling something in response about how Garcia had hacked his email to make sure he was free for pride. And then, the two fell into silence again. But it didn’t last for long, because Derek wanted to know just as much, why was Spencer here?

“What about you, Reid?” Derek asked him cautiously, the way you approach a puppy you find on the side of the road. Calm and slow, trying to get him to trust him bit by bit. “What about me?” Spencer asked, not wanting to answer anything about himself unless Derek was specific.

“Are you an ally?” Morgan asked him, leaving the question open ended. Spencer could say as little or as much as he wanted. This is how you get him to open up, Derek knew that for a fact. “Um.. yeah, I mean- who isn’t? I just- I have to be. I’m.. gay.” Spencer admitted all too awkwardly, not at all in a normal fashion. But nothing about Spencer was in normal fashion.

Derek nodded slowly, not responding as he stared back up, tracing his eyes over the tree branches yet again.

A few hours had passed, Spencer and Derek eventually left their peaceful bench under the large oak tree, and instead moved back towards the parking lot.

“Garcia’s got a ride home already- I think she got that drag queen to get her home.” Derek explained as they approached his truck, Spencer nodded as he followed Derek. “Anyways,” Derek continued speaking, “I can give you a ride home. Let’s get going.”

“You don’t have to-“ Spencer started, Derek immediately shut him down. “I want to, c’mon. It’s late, you’re tired. I know you are. Let me take you home.” Spencer just nodded in agreement, he couldn’t argue with Derek, even if he did try. Morgan was a stubborn man.

So, Spencer followed Derek into his truck, and they sat in comfortable silence as they started on their journey back to Spencer’s safe space, his apartment.

By the time Derek pulled his truck into the apartments parking lot, Spencer knew something was just the slightest bit wrong. Derek had barely spoken for the entire ride, and usually he loves to say something, to make Spencer smile or laugh, or even just nod and mumble in agreement. But he had done none of that on the way to Spencers.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, turning to face Derek as he put the vehicle in park. Derek didn’t meet his eyes, staring at the steering wheel instead as he spoke; “Yeah. Sorry. I’m just thinking.”

“About what?” Spencer pried, absentmindedly unbuckling his seatbelt as he spoke, “About today.” Derek said, not explaining further. “Was today bad?”

Derek shook his head, “No. It started weird, it’s ending pretty good, though. But I’m gonna regret today forever if I don’t do something right now.”

Now, Spencer was confused. Not sure at all what Derek could be talking about, “What do you mean?” He asked, voice quieter than before.

Derek said nothing as he unbuckled his own seatbelt, turning to face Spencer as well, and then he leaned in- closer than they had ever been before. Their noses were almost touching, and Spencer didn’t move. Instead, he watched Derek’s eyes expectantly.

Then, Derek broke through, they were no longer intersecting each other’s personal space- now they were fully destroying each other’s atmospheres. Derek’s lips were on Spencer’s, a chaste, soft, quick kiss- something Spencer would have wanted to go for a lot longer. But then, he pulled away just as fast.

“...That’s what I meant..” He mumbled after a second, looking back towards the steering wheel, looking away from Spencer- and more importantly, not seeing the smile on Spencer’s face.

Spencer couldn’t help it. He knew it was terrible to be smiling right now- he should jump and say something to fix what was happening. But he had to smile, he couldn’t believe that had actually just happened, his brain was still computing and re-circuiting, trying to savor the memory and not forget how Derek’s lips felt against his.

Spencer dragged himself out of his own head quickly, though. He did all he could think of to do in the moment, get Derek back. “Morgan.” Spencer said, tugging on Derek’s sleeve as he did so, forcing him to look back at Spencer and meet his eyes again.

But Spencer didn’t say anything, and he didn’t give Derek the chance to speak, either. Instead, he leant forward, pressing his lips against Derek’s. This is all he had wanted to know for the longest time, and now he had it.

Maybe pride wasn’t so bad after all, you just have to be with the right people for it to work out.

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196 notes · View notes

dexiao · 4 years

Text

Business trip (m) | Xiao Dejun

Synopsis: Y/N and Dejun worked together for 8 years as book editors and never got along, but they’re forced to travel together to a small town and get stuck there because of a snowstorm.

Pairing: Xiao Dejun x female reader

Words: 4.9k

Genre: Book editors!au, light angst, tiny bit of fluff, smut

Warnings: safe sex, oral (female receiving), handjob (male receiving)

A/N: I guess this took me about 3 weeks or more to write because I just ran out of inspiration, and then when I finally got inspiration again I was super busy with college stuff. About the plot, I think it showed a bit of dominance from Dejun, BUT if I decide to keep writing in this same universe/context, it’ll probably show a lot more of a sub!Xiaojun (I just get these vibes, idk?). Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know your opinion and/or if you found any mistakes!

This is a work of fiction. It does not portray the real personality of the member.

Books are probably my favorite thing on Earth besides my dog. I love the thought of living surrounded by books because it made me feel safe. Thus, it made just perfect to sense to work as a book editor.

In general, I felt satisfied about my job. I mostly did things I enjoy and with people I feel comfortable with – except by one other editor, Xiao Dejun. We were hired at the same time, 8 years ago, and never really got along.

At first, I tried my best to be nice and friendly to him – just like I acted with everyone else at the company – and he seemed to buy it for some time, until he changed overnight and started acting like a bitch. And by ‘acting like a bitch’ I don’t mean only not doing any favors I asked him. Actually, he wouldn’t do the bare minimum, like holding the elevator door or answering the telephone for me when I went to the restroom.

So you can imagine how co-working with him must be the least likeable thing about my job. That’s what made me angrier when our boss demanded that we traveled together.

“Don’t even look at me with those faces.” John, the boss, stated. “You both know Dejun is our best editor on thriller stories and Y/N is best with dealing with people. Especially in this case that the writer never published anything on his entire life.” I sighed and noticed Dejun getting ready to complain as Johnny made a brief pause. “I know you to are my best choice. I don’t give a shit if you hate each other because I trust both of you as professionals.”

That settled it.

And that’s why we traveled to Irisburg in the middle of the winter in the first place.

It took about 3 hours by car – I was driving – to get to the small town. The trip was silent most of the time, the only sounds being my Arctic Monkeys playlist, the car’s engine and eventually the rain pouring.

Dejun and I talked strictly talked about the reason of the trip and nothing else. In other words, we talked for about 15 minutes only, and avoided saying anything for the rest of the time.

The meeting lasted around 2 hours. Since the writer was a beginner, we had to explain everything about how the company works, his rights and duties. I’d hypocritical if I didn’t admit John was right. Dejun and I conducted the reunion very well.

The problem was that during the meeting, an unexpected snowstorm began. We were fully clothed, prepared to face the cold weather, but not to face the road block due to the snow. Needless to say we both were pissed off by the situation.

“Maybe we should call John.” Dejun suggested. “Tell him about the meeting and about this.”

“You’re right.” I said, already reaching for my phone.

“As always.”

I rolled my eyes at his words, pressing the call button and discovering that my phone was out of service.

“Oooh hell, no. This can’t be.” I widened my eyes at Dejun, who was staring at me with a confused expression. “Is your phone working?”

Dejun checked his phone.

“Fuck, no.”

I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair.

“Let’s find somewhere we can use a phone, then.”

“Alright, and keep calm.” Dejun said, the stress palpable in his tone.

“I am calm, I’m just frustrated.” I replied, keeping my eyes on the road and looking for somewhere we could stop at.

“I was telling that to myself.”

After a few minutes we stopped at a convenience store. I went straight to the restroom to wash my face and try to calm down. Though I tried not to show that to Dejun, I was really nervous about being stuck in this town.

A moment later, I exited the restroom and found Dejun talking to the cashier, seeming worried. As the cashier glanced at me, Dejun turned around to face me as well.

“It seems like we have no way out. All roads are blocked until the snow stops and the streets are cleaned. Even if we call Johnny, there’s nothing to do.” He stated.

“That is great, really. Is there even a hotel in this fucking town?”

“There is one three blocks from here.” The cashier said, obviously containing a laugh at my reaction.

“Thank you, Zack.” Dejun replied and walked towards me, lowering his voice and putting a hand on my arm. “Look, Y/N. I don’t like this situation either, but it could be worse. At least we won’t have to sleep in your car.”

Although what I interpreted from his sentence was more like ‘at least we won’t have to sleep together’, I had to admit Dejun was right again, so I exhaled heavily. So I gave up, feeling my shoulders shrink.

“Let me just grab some coffee and then we can go, alright?”

“Sure.” He smiled briefly. “Maybe we should eat too.”

So we ended up eating sandwiches and drinking coffee at the convenience store, complaining about the situation and grabbing some snacks for the night. We ran to the car, trying to protect from the wind and the snow the best way we could.

As we entered the hotel, I already noticed how modest it was. The building only had three floors, no elevator and the decoration was very simple. The receptionist was a man who seemed to be around 50 years old.

“Good evening, how may I help this beautiful couple?” He smiled. I looked at Dejun in amusement, just to see his face becoming red.

“Actually we’re not a couple.” I responded, smiling fondly. Dejun waited behind me. “We’d like two single rooms.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. But we only have one room left and only has a double bed.” I felt my expression change at his words.

“Isn’t there a couch or a spare mattress?” Dejun asked, coming closer to the table.

“There isn’t, I’m sorry.” The man answered, visibly apologetic.

“It’s ok. You can have the room, I’ll sleep on the car. Just let me take a shower.” I suggested.

Dejun nodded and the man gave us the key to room n. 23.

Dejun and I climbed up the stairs to room n. 23 in silence.

I unlocked the door and we both stepped in, taking a good glance at the room.

It wasn’t that bad. The bed had lilac sheets. There were some flyers, a lamp and a vase with artificial peonies on top of the nightstands on both sides of the bed. There was a desk and a chair close to the window, and an open wardrobe with blankets and towels.

“Do you want to shower first? I don’t mind” He asked, walking towards a nightstand to look at the flyers.

“Alright.”

I grabbed a clean towel and threw it over my right shoulder, heading to the bathroom. When I opened the door, I realized another issue.

“Actually…” I turned to Dejun, who mindfully read something. “I just realized I don’t have clean clothes to put on.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and mouth.

“Crap, me neither.”

I dropped the towel on the chair and closed the bathroom door again, sighing.

“Maybe we should ask the receptionist if there’s a Target or something nearby.” I suggested, already grabbing my purse and walking out of the room. Dejun followed me.

It turned out that there’s wasn’t a Target nor anything nearby. We ended up back to the convenience store from before. And there weren’t many options on what to buy.

It was pretty compelling to browse for clothes with someone I am not close at all. Knowing each other and working together for years never made that.

Therefore, I left the store with new panties, sweatpants and a hairbrush. Dejun also bought underwear and sweatpants (matching colors with mine since there were only gray pants on sale), along with razor blades.

Back in the hotel, Dejun started laughing as we entered the room. So I raised my eyebrows at him.

“You gotta admit, Y/N. Even though we don’t get along, we’ll have a lot of stories to tell from this event.”

I let out a breathy laugh and went to the shower.

As the hot water poured on my body, I tried to keep my mind from becoming paranoid. Everything would be alright. I would sleep in the car, get up by the sunrise, drink coffee and read my book at the convenience store until the snow melted, and by tomorrow noon we would be back home.

Out of the shower, I dressed up and blow dried my hair as quick as possible. When I left the bathroom, Dejun stood by the window, with the towel hanging on this neck.

Our eyes met and he went straight to the bathroom after realizing it was his turn, but stopped before closing the door and faced me again.

“What do you think about having dinner here? It’s getting late and I doubt there’s any place we can go by now. Besides, I took a peek at the menu and it seems pretty decent.”

“Can I think about it while you shower?” I asked, pondering the pros and cons of just eating the snacks I bought previously.

“Sure.” He said and closed the door.

I laid in the bed and reached for the menu flyer from the nightstand.

I opened my eyes and frowned, not remembering where I was for a moment. I had been sleeping for who knows how much time. Dejun was at the door, talking to someone. I sat on the bed and rubbed my eyes, hearing him shut the door.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He stated, apologetic. He held a tray with pizza and coke. Also, Dejun was wearing glasses, which he never did at the company. And he looked pretty good like that. In sweatpants, glasses, hair still a little wet. A pretty domestic sight to look at.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry for sleeping too.” I smiled, feeling shy.

“Anyway, since you were asleep I ordered pizza for us.” He motioned his head towards the table where he left the tray.

On top of the chair in front of the table laid a wet towel, that I supposed was Xiao’s since I left mine next to me on the bed.

Then I realized that it remained untouched. It was almost one hour and forty minutes since Dejun entered the shower, so he must have been sitting on that chair all of this time.

That made me feel even more ashamed of falling asleep.

“Y/N, is everything ok?” He asked, sitting on the chair.

“Oh, sure! Just let me wash my face before we eat ‘cause I’m still half asleep.” I responded, grabbing the towel next to me and heading to the bathroom, hearing Xiao laugh.

I hung the towel on the shower stall and threw the cold water on my face, feeling more awake instantly.

As I left the bathroom, Dejun had already opened the pizza box and brought it to the bed, the glasses of coke on one of the nightstands.

He zapped mindlessly through the TV channels, stopping in a Sandra Bullock movie.

We ate sitting on the bed, legs crossed like kids.

Grabbing my second slice of pizza, I decided to not let the meal be silent as most of the day had been.

“You know, Dejun, this situation sucks. But I have to admit that I underestimated you. I am enjoying being with you.” I said, looking at the pizza before taking a bite. Xiao raised one eyebrow at my words.

“You say this but you literally slept like 90% of the time we spent here.” He replied, teasingly. I rolled my eyes and he stretched his arm to grab the glasses of coke, handing me one.

I took a sip immediately, but Xiao put his glasses on top of his head like a tiara before drinking, leaving me with a confused expression. Realizing that I glanced at him, he explained.

“It sprinkles on the lenses if I drink anything sparkling with glasses on.”

“Oh, I see.” I nodded. “I never saw you using glasses at the company.”

“I don’t. I wear contact lenses most of the time.”

“Really? But you look good in glasses.”

Dejun’s surprised face and laugh made me realize what I just said, feeling my face become red and looking down. Cursing mentally, deciding it was best to keep the silence that reigned previously starting from now.

“Well, thank you, Y/N.” He said, still giggling a little. “You’re not bad yourself.”

After one more slice of pizza, I was full. Dejun was still eating the second slice, a lot slower than me.

“I guess it’s time to go now.” I spoke, getting up from the bed and going to pick up my stuff.

Xiao grabbed my arm and I looked at him in a jolt, my eyes meeting his brown ones.

“Already?”

My eyes shifted from his face to his hand on my arm before I could think of an answer, and he let go of the grip visibly more shy.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that…” He began, scratching the back of his neck. “… you seemed so tired, you drove a lot and will have to drive again tomorrow. The car isn’t a proper place to rest.”

I stood static for a few seconds.

“Are you sure? We’d have to share the bed.” I said, timidly.

“Yeah, we’re both adults. Besides, you already said you find me attractive, so I suppose it’s not a problem to you.”

I rolled my eyes and went back to picking up my things, pissed at his comment.

“You’re so full of yourself.” I mumbled.

“For fucks sake, do you know what a joke is, Y/N?” He said exasperatedly.

“Apparently I’m the joke to you.”

Xiao grunted and though I wasn’t looking at him, I could imagine him rolling his eyes just as I did before. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, resting elbows on his knees.

“You’re such a drama queen sometimes! You can’t even stand to read a few words without falling asleep, how well rested do you think you will be tomorrow after sleeping in a car in this fucking freezing weather?”

“So what the hell do you want me to do?” I practically yelled, closing my eyes, taking a deep breath and sitting on the chair before looking at him again.

He didn’t answer but kept staring at me, and I calmed down after a while of silence. The tension was palpable in the air.

Momentarily, I let my eyes drop to Dejun’s mouth.

Realizing my stare, Dejun licked his lips and I opened mine involuntarily before searching for his eyes. Dejun brought his face closer to mine and spoke in a low, soft tone.

“I want you to kiss me.”

He slowly shifted his gaze to my lips and brushed softly the back of his left hand against my right cheek. I breathed heavily, inhaling his citric perfume, before leaning closer to him, blank minded and only feeling a sudden need to lick his inviting lips.

I rested my left hand on his thigh to support myself, closing my eyes as I felt our lips touch.

Dejun’s mouth was half open and I could sense the warmth and humidity of his tongue, making me crave for contact. I sighed and slipped the tip of my tongue to touch his lips, feeling myself salivate at the sensation. Dejun lodged one his hands close to my nape and the other on my waist, and I felt my heart rate increase due to the way he held me tighter.

I gasped as Xiao’s tongue touched mine and deepened the kiss. It was wet and slow, allowing us to savor each other’s mouth. My hands reached for his hair, pulling it lightly so he would realize that I was enjoying it. After a few moments, I broke the kiss and moved back a little, opening my eyes and gazing at his face.

His cheeks had a light blush and lips were flushed as well, lust showing in his eyes wide open. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen Dejun be.

“Is this what you wanted?” I whispered.

“That’s not even close to what I wanted, Y/N.” Xiao responded, elevating his tone. I frowned, looking down and distancing myself more at his words, unable to avoid feeling insufficient, as I couldn’t satisfy his wish. Both his hands cupped my face, forcing me to look at him again. “I want to kiss you so much that your body will get tender. I want to kiss every inch of your skin until you melt under my lips, I want to hear you whine because of my touches. I want you to wrap your hands around my neck and tell me how you never felt so good.”

Dejun’s gaze fell on my lips again, as if asking for permission accomplish his cravings, so I closed my eyes in a silent consent.

The next thing I felt was his lips crashing on mine again, in a rougher and more intense kiss then before. His hands grabbed my thighs, motioning me to go onto his lap. I got up and kneeled on the bed, one leg on each side of him, lowering my body to position on top of his hip. By this time, Xiao’s hands traveled up to my waist to guide me.

However, he didn’t mean for me to be on top of him, since he turned us both around, making me lay on the bed and positioning his body in the middle of my legs. His mouth descended to my jaw and neck, leaving a hot trail of open mouthed kisses and licks. Hands traveled from my waist to my thighs, squeezing the flesh. I could feel my panties becoming damp, curling my toes in desire.

“And you know what else I want, Y/N?” He asked, pressing his bulge against my pelvis, making groan at the feeling. I shook my head in denial as he kept grinding on my body. “I want to eat you out every fucking day at the office. I want your sighs to be because of me and not anything else. You look so pretty all focused on work, makes me insane thinking on how many ways I could tease you to distraction.”

“Fuck, Dejun.” I moaned, pressing his head closer to my neck and forcing my torso along his slightly toned body, one of my hands entering under the collar of his t-shirt. Dejun lightly bit my neck before getting away, removing his jacket. I removed my hand from his skin and ran it through his upper body, feeling his muscles become stiff under my touch.

He leaned and pressed a kiss on my stomach, then started to lift up my blouse. I rose my body in order to help, head standing close to Xiao’s. As he finished taking my top off, Xiao went in for another kiss, hands moving to my chest and squeezing my breasts beneath the bra.

I tugged at his t-shirt, attempting to take it off. Dejun undressed the piece of cloth and turned around, dropping it behind his body.

It was beautiful to see. Dejun’s now obvious erection pointed through his sweatpants. His light torso muscles contracted by turning around. When he faced me again, I couldn’t help but pull him closer, embracing his waist with my legs and his neck with my arms, craving for the sensation of his skin upon mine. Xiao started rolling his hips against my pelvis, so I kissed his neck to block the noises from coming out of my mouth. I could feel the outline of his member teasing me over the clothes.

His hands ran by the sides of my body and teased the waistband of my pants. He squeezed my thighs and butt, exposing his desire to take the piece off by the way he massaged the flesh from top to bottom.

I removed my legs from around him and positioned each foot on the bed, keeping knees flexed.

“Take these off.�� I whispered.

Xiao raised his body a little, allowing me to lift my hips and help him undress me. He slid the piece along my legs, moving back. Only in bra and panties I completely laid down again. Dejun moved his head back until right above my right knee, sticking out his tongue and licking the inner part of my leg until reaching my underwear. The sensation of his hot and humid tongue close to my center made me involuntarily contract my abdomen in anticipation.

“Can I take these off to?” He asked, looking at me again while rushing his index finger on the edge of the cloth.

“Hm-hmm.” I nodded, preparing to lift my hips again.

He grabbed each side of the panties and slid it off at once, coming back licking the inner part of my left leg as he did to the right. One of his hands reached from under my thigh and pressed right under my bellybutton to keep me still, in a way that my leg rested on his shoulder.

I closed my eyes as I felt his breath hit my pussy, in expectation of contact. But it didn’t come.

I looked at Xiao’s amused expression between my legs. He held a devilish smile looking back at me.

“Can I?” He asked, pressing a kiss to my left inner thigh, so close to my core I could barely notice the difference.

“Please, Dejun-”

His tongue finally met my clit in soft circular and licking motions, and I felt a wave of warmth through my body, letting out a subtle moan. His free hand moved to my entrance, teasing.

“I wish I could have you like this every day.” He mumbled, distancing his head a bit to massage my clit with his fingers. His chin and lips glowed from my wetness. He licked his lips and moved his fingers down to my entrance again and penetrating me with his middle finger. We both bit our lips at the same time, and I closed my eyes as he started trusting his finger in and out. After a few trusts I felt an emptiness and attempted opening my eyes again, but stopping from being overwhelmed with the pleasure of Dejun sliding two fingers in and returning his mouth to my clit

His fingers curled against my walls and his mouth was now much more feral the before. He licked and sucked firmly at the spot, giving me continuous delight. My legs started to contract from the sensation, toes curled as I opened my eyes to watch Dejun eating me out.

Xiao’s eyes were both open and staring directly at my face, making me twitch and unleash a slow and heavy moan. I supported myself on one elbow and the other hand moved to grab Dejun’s hair. I could feel my eyebrows furrow against my will every time he pressed his mouth a little harder against me.

By the grab on his hair I pushed myself upon his face and rolled my hips. Dejun was clearly surprised, raising eyebrows and letting out a hum on my skin, enhancing the pleasure with the vibration from his voice. As he tried to repeat the act, I pushed him away by the forehead. His expression changed to confusion.

“I don’t want to come yet.” I explained, still gasping.

Dejun nodded and bent to kiss my lips, tasting saltier than before. I grabbed his jaw, willing to feel with my hand the arousal that covered his face, making it slippery. He supported his body with his arms by the sides of my head, pressing his erection against my dripping pussy.

“Dejun?” I whispered, breaking the kiss.

“Hmm?”

“Can I ride your cock?”

Dejun gasped at my question, immediately rolling to the side and pulling me on top of him. His back rested against the headboard and his arms circled my body, giving licks and kisses on my neck and around my collarbones. I felt his hands unclasp the bra before his kisses moved to my naked breasts. At first he just softly licked around the left nipple, circling it with his tongue, then tried his best to fit all he could from the boob inside his mouth, still moving his tongue against the skin.

At the same time, my nails scratched his back and nape, and I rolled my hips on top of his rock hard bulge.

Dejun’s hands fell to my butt, squeezing each side and pressing my body down in an attempt to guide my movements. With my right hand, as he distanced a little in order to regain his breath, I tugged at his waistband. All I could think of was Dejun’s cock filling me up, but the clothes in the way and his grip weren’t helping.

Xiao understood what I wanted and released my hips, so I lifted myself and he pulled both pants and underwear until the middle of his thighs. His gray pants had a large wet stain, and as he took it off his dick jumped up, hitting his abdomen. I licked my lips at the thought of how helpless he looked.

“Do you have a condom?” I asked. He nodded and pointed at the wallet on top of the table. I stood up to reach for it and threw it to Xiao, who urgently caught the small package inside.

Back on top of him, I took the condom off his hands. However, before sliding it along his shaft, I grabbed it by the base and pumped a couple of times, anxious to touch Xiao as closely as he touched me. He closed his eyes and groaned, before staring at me again almost angrily.

I slid the condom down his cock and positioned it on my entrance, trying to smear it with my arousal. As I sank down, we both cursed under our breaths. I closed my eyes for a while as I adjusted to his size. When I opened them again, Dejun’s gaze laid on my face, his hands just resting on my thighs.

I leaned to lick his lips and hold his shoulders, but Xiao only received my tongue inside his mouth and mindlessly sucked at it. I moaned loudly and began moving on his cock, feeling his grip tighten on my legs.

Dejun also started trusting into me in small movements, making me groan once again and break the kiss. He held my gaze at his eyes, so dark and full of desire, the effort causing him to contract his forehead. His lips were pink and plump, I couldn’t avoid the thought of him sucking my fingers.

As this image filled my head, I felt myself clench around his member. Xiao moaned loud and beautifully, leaning in an attempt to kiss me again. Never mind how bad I wanted to feel those lips on mine, I interrupted him with hand on his chest.

“I’m not gonna kiss you anymore. I want to hear those beautiful moans.” I explained, leaning to kiss his neck right under his left ear before even seeing his reaction, causing another moan, now lower, to come out his mouth.

After a few more moments, my legs started to feel tired, the I leaned back to have a bit of release on my thigh muscles. At my movement, Dejun, who had more space to move, began trusting deeper and I could perfectly sense his dick coming in and out of me, coated with my juices.

My abdomen started contracting and I knew my climax had its way.

“Fuck, Dejun, I’m close.” I warned, gasping.

He moved one hand to my clit, massaging it with his thumb in circular movements. Added to his hip moves, it was enough to trigger my orgasm. I clenched and felt my whole body contract and tremble on top of him, then feeling Xiao reach his on high as his cock pulsated inside of me.

I let out a breathy laugh while looking at Xiao’s fucked out face, messy hair and all sweaty. Anyway, I lifted my body to slip out of him and pressed a kiss on his lips, cupping his face in my hands.

“Maybe sleeping here isn’t such a bad idea after all.” I chuckled. Dejun opened a bright smile, putting his arms on my waist.

“You should’ve know I was right.” He joked, making me playfully roll my eyes.

“But we’re gonna need another shower anyway.” I said, laying by his side in contradiction to my words.

We kept staring at each other as our bodies cooled down and Dejun became soft, so he stopped patting my hair and went for a shower. As he was entering the bathroom, I called him.

“Dejun?”

“Yes?” He turned his face to me.

“With this tongue of yours, I’ll let you eat me out at the office whenever you want.” I smiled. Dejun laughed and shook his head before closing the door.

#xiaojun #xiao dejun #xiaojun fic #xiao dejun fic #xiaojun smut #xiaojun angst #xiao dejun smut #wayv #wayv xiaojun #xj #nct xiaojun #nct xiao dejun #wayv fic #wayv smut #nct #nct smut #masterlist #mine

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jbbarnesnnoble · 4 years

Text

Just Desserts

Summary: An offhanded comment from Tony leads to you and your loves going overboard with pumpkin spice.

Features: Fluffy goodness; More pumpkin spice than recommended

Prompt: Pumpkin Pie

Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes/Reader

Notes: Day 7 of the OTP challenge! Very late, but its here. Because of how the fics play off each other, they need to be in chronological order, even though it’s not necessarily a chaptered fic. That might also just be a Mel brain thing where I just cannot bring myself to post out of order.

Word Count: 1065

A bell over the door jingled as you made your way into the shop. Ashton’s maintained their original decor from the 40s, replacing things as needed once they were too worn out. The cashier smiled when she saw you, calling back to someone that you were there. A man with grey hair emerged from the back, a smile on his face when he saw you.

“Ten gallons of pumpkin ice cream, freshly made,” Marcus said as he brought the containers out.

“Thanks Marcus. You know it won’t last long,” you replied.

“Big party tonight?” he asked curiously. Marcus was the owner, the grandson of the original owners. You shook your head.

“No, just family dinner. My turn to bring desserts. I’ve been baking up a storm. Tony asked for and I quote “a ton of pumpkin pie” so, I’m simply delivering,” you said with a devious smirk.

You, Sam, and Bucky had orchestrated the plan after Tony’s last prank. It had been an unexpected past time that had enraptured the team. Light hearted gags and pranks that took off some of the pressure and stress they still felt, even as they started moving toward handing over the reigns so they could enjoy family life.

“I don’t want to know, do I?” Marcus asked. You laughed as you shook your head, thanking him before carrying the containers to your car. You were grateful for the freezer that was in your pantry, something you insisted on with Bucky’s appetite. It wasn’t uncommon for you to freeze meals so he could go grab something to heat up.

The scent of cinnamon hit you when you walked in, along with the more subtle scents of the pumpkin pies. If Tony wanted a ton of pumpkin pie, who were the three of you to deny him? You entered the kitchen to see Sam pulling the last of the pies out of the oven. Another point of joy for all of you was having two ovens. Baking was a hobby that had started with Bucky. Having two ovens allowed for multiple food based endeavors at one time.

Bucky was checking on the pumpkin spice cookies that were in the oven, while the icing settled on the ones that had already cooled. You smiled at the sight of them, working around each other, a kiss exchanged when they maneuvered around one another. Sam’s smile grew when he saw you in the archway that opened into the kitchen.

“There she is. Let me grab those,” Sam said, taking the containers from you and heading into the pantry to put them into the freezer. You took stock of the desserts that were cooling. Several pumpkin pies, Bucky’s famous pumpkin spice cookies with cream cheese icing, two giant carafes filled with pumpkin spice hot chocolate, and then there was the ice cream. You had vanilla ice cream too, along with whipped cream and other toppings. If anything, it would be a good laugh and there would be plenty of leftovers for people to take home.

“I think we’ve overdone it,” Bucky said, a grimace on his face as he looked around. You shook your head.

“I’ll be surprised if there’s anything left by the end. Besides, Tony asked for a ton of pumpkin pie...we just delivered in an unusual manner,” you said with a shrug as Sam re-entered the room.

“When you’re right, you’re right. Besides, this is a win all around,” Sam said as he grabbed one of the cookies to take a bit.

It was a short time later that the three of you were loading up the red Radio Flyer wagon you had to drag the desserts over to Steve and Wanda’s. It was their turn to host the weekly Wednesday night dinner. The wagon had been a find at an estate sale the three of you had gone to one weekend when you were bored. You recalled it from your childhood, dragging it around the neighborhood sometimes. It helped when it came to bringing things to the others.

“Did you three buy out a bakery?” Steve asked when he opened the door.

“No. We made everything. Except the ice cream,” Bucky said, carrying the boxes of cookies into the Rogers-Maximoff home. Sam followed with the pies and you had the ice cream, after moving the wagon to the side of the walkway leading up to the door of the house. Steve helped you with carrying in the bag of ice cream and other toppings.

“We should take the ice cream out right after dinner to let it soften,” you said as Steve took it to put into the freezer. He nodded in agreement before directing you to the living room where everyone was gathered while he and Wanda put the finishing touches on dinner.

“Did you bring my pumpkin pie?” Tony teased when he and Pepper arrived with Morgan.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, we did,” you said with a smirk. Not long after that, everyone was called to dinner.

Laughs were shared over dinner, with new stories about the week, old memories shared by Bucky and Steve, and the general antics that came from being around the group. When it came time for dessert, you went to grab one of the pies, setting it on the table. Tony raised an eyebrow at you.

“Don’t know if you three realize, but one pie is not enough for all of us. I believe I requested a ton,” Tony joked. You shared a look with Bucky and Sam before they headed to grab the rest, with Steve’s help. Seven pies, ten boxes of cookies, and ten gallons of pumpkin ice cream were set on the table, along with the fixings for whatever toppings people would want for their pie or ice cream.

“I gotta say, I see this as a win,” Tony said. With that, the room devolved into laughter once more. Once upon a time, nights like that were rare. Nights where the team could relax, have fun, and not have the weight of the world on their shoulders. And you wouldn’t change it for the world.

It was past midnight by the time the three of you made it home, your own leftovers tucked away in the refrigerator and freezer. The three of you collapsed into bed, exhausted and happy, curled around one another as you all drifted off.

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raysofcrosby · 5 years

Text

REASON

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩...𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮.” – 𝙅𝙤𝙝𝙣 𝙂𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙣, 𝘼𝙣 𝘼𝙗𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨

𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵 (𝘹)

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥: yes | no

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴): bad words here and there plus some alcohol consumption otherwise its just full of moody!nolan and quite angsty tbh.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 4,698

𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺: break up in a small town by sam hunt

𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦: yikes i’m back with another piece i wrote for my creative writing class but obviously i changed the names– i couldn’t have my professor thinking i was writing about hockey players ya know anyway like i said above, it’s pretty angsty lmao idk why i love writing sad things so much but oh well!!! enjoy!!! ;-)

"Nolan hurry up back there! We need to get back soon!" Travis called out from the front of the store as he placed his booze of choice for the night up onto the counter.

"Yeah, yeah I'm coming," Nolan replied, turning his attention back to the liquor in front of him. He'd been home in Winnipeg now for a good month or so since the Flyers season had ended with no playoff bid. Yeah it sucked, actually, it really fucking sucked– but there was nothing he could do about it now. So when Nico had called and said he was coming to visit, Nolan took the opportunity to invite Travis too. Because what better way to get your mind off of the lack of playoff hockey, than by spending it out on a lake and drinking with your best friends?

In the few days that they'd been here, the three boys had already wreaked enough havoc in the Patrick home, that Nolan knew he was only one inappropriate joke away before his mom would book the three of them a hotel room and tell them to stay there. But they couldn't help it, their friendship was tight and after the whirlwind of a season both of their teams had– they needed a little fun.

Which is why he was standing in front of five rows of liquor, trying to decide which one he'd make his poison for the night. An old friend from Juniors was throwing a party at his house, and obviously Nolan, Travis and Nico were invited. The old friend said that the party was for Nolan, so to speak, a celebration on his return back from Philly and to commemorate the fact that he'd actually left his house for once. But in reality, it was just a get together with old friends while getting wasted on incredulous amounts of liquor all while sloppy games of beer pong, suck and blow and every other cliche high school drinking game Hollywood could manage into one movie, played on in the background.

Not that Nolan was complaining or anything. He was actually excited about the party since he hadn't really seen or talked to most of the people who would be in attendance since last summer. That, and he was always down for a party. His eyes skimmed across two separate bottles of vodka, unsure of which to choose for tonight as 'eenie meenie miney mo' played in his head.

"You should go with Belvedere," Nolan straightened up and looked to his left to see you standing maybe a foot or two away from him. "Black Cow usually made you throw up."

He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't make the words come out. Hell, he couldn't even find the words if he wanted to. He could barely even believe that you were there, standing right in front of him...in person, after all this time. He blinked once, twice, adding a third time for good measure to make sure that his mind wasn't playing any tricks on him. But you were still standing there.

"Hi, Nolan." You laughed, tossing some of your hair over your shoulder as you motioned towards the bottles in front of him. "You don't mind if I..."

"No, g-" he cleared his throat and stepped back from the shelves, "go ahead."

You smiled and walked closer to the shelves, bending down and causing your hair to fall back over your shoulders. You grabbed two bottles of Ciroc and stood back up, a bottle in each hand. "Thanks," you said, biting the inside of your cheek, a habit you wished you could rid yourself of but never had the willpower to do so. "Well, I guess I'll see you later?"

Nolan nodded while simultaneously swallowing the lump that had grown in his throat. You lightly laughed and turned away, walking to the end of the aisle and disappearing out of his sight. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to figure out if what just happened was one huge mindfuck. "Nolan what the fuck, come on!" Travis called out. Nolan opened his eyes t see Travis standing there at the end of the aisle with an annoyed look on his face. "We're about to leave without you and your alcohol."

Nolan rolled his eyes as turned away from his teammate. "Calm the fuck down, I'm coming. I just couldn't decide." He looked at the shelves and grabbed both the Belvedere and Black Cow vodkas. At this point, he knew that he'd probably be needing both bottles for tonight.

He walked down the aisle and brushed past Travis, putting his bottles on the counter and looking at Nico. "Sorry, I couldn't decide what to get."

"Well, at least you're here now," Nico shrugged, handing his I.D. and credit card over to the cashier. "Because now we can get home faster and then start drinking and therefore get wasted."

Nolan laughed, shaking his head as he stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. "Yeah, I couldn't decide between the two, so I got both."

"Did you talk to Y/N?" Travis asked, resting his elbow on the counter and causing Nico to look at him.

"Y/N? Y/N was here?" He asked, looking at Nolan. "Where?"

"You guys were still grabbing something. I let her check out before us since she already had all of her stuff." Travis replied, picking up the two cases of beer off the counter. "So Patty, did you talk to her?"

Nolan scrunched his nose and bit the inside of his cheek as he thought about whether or not he should lie to his best friends. Would it even benefit them if he told them that he had talked to her? Instead, he just sighed. "Kind of. She told me not to get Black Cow because I always had the habit of throwing up after drinking it all," he replied, grabbing the bag holding his two bottles in it.

"And yet you bought it anyway?" Nico asked, putting his I.D. and credit card back into his wallet and giving Nolan a confused look. "Can I ask why?"

"I need to get drunk and that's the way to do it," Nolan replied, shrugging his shoulders and walking out of the liquor store with his friends right behind him.

"God, I knew we were best friends for a reason." Travis sighed, as he got into the drivers' side of his car, Nico in the passenger side and Nolan in the back with all of the alcohol.

Nolan dug into his front pocket and brought his cellphone out, unlocking it and opening Instagram. He didn't feel the need to scroll down the feed filled with empty smiles of the people he followed, nor did he pay any mind to the red number over in the top right of his screen showing just how many DM's he'd received from the many girls who vied for his attention and the endless amount of fans who congratulated him on the season. Nope, he went straight to your profile and scrolled down to find what he was looking for.

He didn't know how many times he'd stared at this picture, millions perhaps. Or however many times it takes for it to bur a picture into one's mind further than it already was. It was the last picture you and him had taken together, about three weeks into the new season. You had come out and stayed with him and Travis for the weekend since it was your fall break. He could still see you sitting there, wearing his jersey and talking amongst the other WAGs at warm-ups. It had been the best weekend of his life, he thought that nothing could get better than this very moment.

After that weekend, you flew back home to return to school and he couldn't wait till you could come down again. He was already planning your second trip, not paying any mind to the fact your facetime calls had gotten shorter, the texts didn't come in multiples and you both were playing a consistent game of phone tag every day. A week after you'd gone back to school, you broke up with him. And when the Flyers came up to Winnipeg for a game, you still showed up with his family, only this time you weren't wearing his jersey, and when the Patrick's invited you out to dinner after the game, you didn't go out.

And Nolan was pissed. Not only because of the fact that you had broken up with him a week after just spending hours in bed together, cuddling and talking about the future, but because you hadn't spoken a word to him or even given him a full reason as to why you broke off your 2-year relationship. All he got from you, hours before the game was that you didn't think that being in a relationship was healthy for the two of you right now. When he asked you what you meant by that, you just said that you would 'tell him later.'

Well, here he was, five months later at home and still no explanation. It fucked him up bad five months ago, he wasn't afraid to admit it. Travis had called him out on his shitty appearance once or twice and even Nico had noticed his different behavior whenever they were able to get in a talk. Yeah, you had fucked him up real bad and truth be told, he hasn't been able to get it completely out of his mind since.

"Nolan, you good man?" Nico asked, waving his hand in front of Nolan's face and causing him to jump.

Nolan turned to see that it was Nico and sighed, locking his phone and sliding it back into his pocket. "Yeah, I'm good." He brought his solo cup to his lips and took a long drink, the vodka numbing his mouth for a partial moment as the burning feeling traveled down his throat.

Nico sighed and shook his head as Nolan turned around to face him. "Why don't you just talk to her, Nolan?"

Nolan took another sip of his drink. "Two reasons. Reason number one," he said, holding up his index finger. "She hasn't reached out to me in months. And reason number two," Another sip as the burning feeling followed soon after and he held up his middle finger. "She's not even here, so I couldn't talk to her even if I could."

"Well it looks like it's your lucky day buddy," Nico said, bringing the cup to his lips and nodding in the direction behind Nolan. "Because she's making herself a drink right now."

Nolan turned to see you standing at the designated liquor counter, making yourself your signature drink– captain and coke. Nico patted his shoulder and stood next to him. "It's now or never," Nolan went to say something but Nico waved him off. "And no, never is not an option."

"Well, you can't say it's not an option AFTER you give it as an option!" He yelled out as Nico waved him off and walked towards a beer pong table.

Nolan took a deep breath again, exhaling before bringing the brim of his cup back to his lips and chugging the rest of his drink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood a bit taller before making his way to the counter. As he neared you, he hesitantly reached out for your arm, only to back out at the last minute and turn around. "Nolan?" He stopped in his tracks and took another deep breath before turning around and putting on his best 'happy' smile that he could. "I thought that was you."

"What gave it away?" He asked, putting his empty cup onto the counter.

"Honestly? The hair," you replied, looking up at his hair. "It's gotten longer. I don't think there are many guys in the world who could pull off that length of hair."

"Yeah, my mom says I need to get a haircut soon," He laughed, running his fingers through his hair.

"What's your poison for the night?" You asked, bringing the orange solo cup to your lips.

"Belvedere," He said, grabbing the bottle off of the counter and pouring it into his cup, filling it. "As suggested."

"Well, at least you'll be sure to remember your night then," you laughed, brushing the hair out of your face.

Nolan nodded and put the cap back onto the bottle, setting it back down onto the counter. He took a sip, pondering his thoughts on just how he could get you alone to talk about why you split up. You were looking around the room and sipping from your drink, smiling and waving at just about everyone you knew...which was just about everyone in attendance. The only person that you couldn't seem to keep your eyes on for more than a few seconds though, was him– and he took notice.

He couldn't help but wonder how it got to this point. How the once comfortable silence between you two that could be there for hours on end, suddenly flipped a switch and no longer seemed comfortable. Had it been something he did? Was it the way he approached you? But you had seemed so comfortable when he came over, open to conversation. "Hey, I was wondering if–"

"Hey over here!" You perked up, raising your arm into the air and waving it before looking back at Nolan. "Sorry, hold that thought. I'll be right back though, okay?”

Nolan just nodded and took another sip of his drink as you smiled and disappeared into the crowd. "You fucking idiot," he mumbled, downing another sip as he nerves began to take over the more he thought about talking to you.

After you first broke up, he was set on needing to see you. He needed for you to tell him in person that this was all a mistake. That you didn't mean to break up with him. And then a few days later, he found himself never wanting to see you again. He always knew that it would be near impossible to do, never seeing you again, especially since you shared all of your friends and every hangout around town and he had nowhere to go in the summers BUT home. So he kept that plausibility in the back of his mind, which is why he was so shocked about seeing you in the store so soon. He thought that he'd at least have until the end of the summer– but he was a damn fool, that's for sure.

He took another long sip of his drink, feeling less of the burn this time around. He looked around the room, spotting Travis and Nico playing beer pong against two girls that Nolan couldn't make out. As his eyes wandered more, he found himself more focused on trying to find where you had gone, wondering what was taking so long and who you went to see. When his eyes landed on the front door, he felt his stomach drop into his shoes. His lips tightened and he turned back to the counter, grabbing his unopened bottle of Black Cow and pushed himself away from the counter and through the crowd.

"Nolan, hey! Dude where are you going?" Travis yelled, his voice still a mumble among the loud music.

Nolan had heard him, sure. But he didn't care to stop and look to see what he wanted. Nope, he was on a mission and that mission took him towards the glass back door and into the backyard.

There weren't as many people out here, but he kept walking until he hit the old playground set- taking a seat onto one of the swings and opening the bottle. His breathing was heavy as he replayed the image in my mind again and again. A mix of anger, hurt and betrayal was running through him at a higher level than he knew what to do with. So he did the only thing that he thought could help it. He brought the bottle to my lips, taking a long hard swig- no longer feeling the burning in his throat.

He always knew that there was a big chance that he'd see you around town, or that you'd move on from your relationship. But he never thought that you'd move onto someone he knew...someone who was one of my close friends back in school and spent countless of hours with on the ice growing up. He took another swig and looked at the night sky.

Yeah, I never expected that bullshit.

He hadn't walked back into the house since he saw you. He could barely get himself to move, so on the swing he stayed. He brought the bottle back to his lips and tossed his head back, taking all the alcohol it had left to offer. When the bottle was empty, he stood himself up the best that he could, only to stumble a bit to his left. He reached out for the chain of the swing and kept himself from falling down. "Nolan, hey!" Nico called out, jogging over to him from the porch.

"Dude where have you been for the past hour?" Travis added, following behind him.

"Drowning myself i-in vodka and feelings," Nolan slurred, holding up the empty bottle. "Not really the b-best mix."

"Holy shit Patty, did you drink all of that?" Nico asked, his eyes wide.

"Yep!" Nolan yelled, throwing his arms in the air and laughing. "And i-it was delicious."

"What the hell were you thinking? You're going to be throwing up for a week!" Travis reached for the bottle and Nolan pulled it back. "Give me the fucking bottle Nolan."

"I had to drown out the image man. I can't stop s-seeing it." He slurred, holding the empty bottle tight in his grasp.

"What image? Seeing what Nolan?"

"Y/N AND NOAH!" Nolan didn't even recognize his own voice as it echoed against the night sky, barely a blip on the radar of anyone in attendance of the party. "I went to talk to her and she le-left to get someone," he hiccuped again, looking at his two best friends. "I saw her kissing h-him!"

It was then that the began to notice the slight churning of his stomach. It only began to escalate when he saw the look on his two best friends faces. He expected them to look surprised, but imagine his own surprise when he noticed just how casual they looked instead. He opened his mouth to say something, yell something at them, but he couldn't bring himself to.

"We know, Nolan. That's why we've been kind of pushing you so hard to talk to her." Nico said, reaching for the bottle.

Travis gave Nolan a guilt-ridden look. He knew he fucked up by not telling Nolan, but he also didn't expect for you to be at the party either. "Yeah man, we didn't want you to be caught off guard by it.."

"Well, it didn't fucking work you assholes." Nolan threw the bottle down and swallowed the horrible gut feeling he had before standing tall. "I'm going to talk to her."

"Oh no you're not," Nico said, grabbing an arm and pulling him back as Travis grabbed the other one. "We're taking you home."

"Let go!" Nolan yelled, snatching one arm free and working on the other. "If you were my best friends you'd let me do th-this."

"We are your best friends Nolan, which is exactly why we're not letting you do this."

Nolan glared at the two of them with a look that could send them both six feet under if at all possible. He opened his mouth to yell a bunch of obscenities at them when he felt his stomach begin to churn again, only this time it was much more violent. He grabbed onto the swingset and bent over, dry heaving until his stomach began to empty himself. As the first wave ended, he felt supportive pats on the back from his two friends. "Feel better?" Nico asked.

Nolan went to speak again, only to throw up even more. "I'll take that as a solid no," Travis mumbled, continuing to pat Nolan on the back.

"Hey Travis, is everything okay? Did you find him?"

"Yeah Y/N, we're–"

"Actually we're not," Nolan said, wiping his mouth and standing up as straight as he could, putting some weight against the swing set so he could seem like he was a tad bit sober.

"Nolan, I told you Black Cow always made you throw up," you laughed, bending down and picking the bottle up from the grass.

“Well, at least you told me something."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, letting the bottle fall to your side as you looked at the hot mess that was Nolan Patrick. His hair was sticking to the sweat on his forehead from puking and the splotches on his cheeks had already turned tomato red.

"You know what I'm talking about Y/N." He sneered, waving his hands around.

"I really don't Nolan...." You looked at Travis and Nico for support, only to get shoulder shrugs and confused looks. "We're going to take you home."

As you walked towards him, it was all Nolan could do not to run into your arms. This had been the very thing he'd dreamed about and wanted for the last five months. For you to be there with him. But not like this, this wasn't how he had imagined it going– drunk on a bottle of vodka with bad breath. "No! Not until you give me a reason!"

You were starting to get mad. You couldn't understand what the hell he was drunk rumbling on and on about. "A reason? Nolan, what the hell are you talking about?"

This was it, he was going to throw up again. He could feel it in his chest as he opened his mouth to speak. "The reason why you broke my heart!" He yelled, a bit shocked at just how loud and assertive his voice had sounded. He noticed the way your face fell and that you had taken a few steps back, and he felt proud for a moment because he could see that you remembered.

"Yeah, now you know what I'm talking about. You said you would give me a reason and you never did. And now here I am, wanting to talk to you and see if maybe you could tell me something– ANYTHING! But no," he dropped his hands to his side and looked at her, shaking his head. "Instead I see you all over Noah."

You looked at him with the most gut-wrenching look he had ever seen in his life. A look that could cause even the person with the coldest heart in the world, to cave. And for a moment, that proud feeling he had turned into regret. He could see the tears begin to build in your eyes as you stared at him. He wanted you to be angry at him, to yell at him. He wanted you to feel something the way that he had felt these last five months...and yet you showed nothing. And that hurt him more than anything ever could...he couldn't help but wonder what the hell he had become.

"Nolan, I think it's time we go..." Travis said, standing in front of him clearing his throat as Nico turned his attention to you.

"Do you still love me?" Nolan croaked, looking over Travis's shoulder.

"Nolan I–"

"Just tell me Y/N, I need to know. Do you still love me?" He stared at you, searching your face for maybe even the slightest insight into what you were thinking and what your answer would be. "I need to know the answer so I can prepare myself for when I see you around town every summer. Because Y/N it's going to be so...fucking hard to see you at every stop light, every store. To see your car driving down the block and realizing that you're not mine anymore. That there's someone else's house you'll be going to for midnight dates. Someone else's arms you'll be crying in whenever you watch 'The Last Song.'" You stared at him, mouth dropped from his confession and tears stinging in your eyes. "Just tell me...please."

You took a shaky breath and hugged yourself, trying your best to keep your tears at bay. "Nolan, it's– it's complicated, okay?"

Nolan ran his tongue against his cheek and laughed to himself as he looked up at the sky in disbelief. "No, it's not. You just gave me your answer." He looked at Nico and stood up fully. "I'm ready to go home."

He stumbled his way by you, brushing against your shoulder and keeping his focus on the back gate. "Nolan, wait!" You called out, the desperation in your voice loud and clear to Nolan.

He took a deep breath and kept on walking as Nico and Travis joined him, each with an arm over his shoulders. "You okay buddy?" Travis asked, looking at him.

"I don't feel too hot," Nolan mumbled as they walked along the outside of the house.

"You'll feel better soon Patty, no doubt in my mind you won't."

"Ha, GOT YOU FUCKER!!!" A faint voice yelled as a slapping sound followed it.

Nolan opened his eyes slowly and saw that he was in his bedroom. He sat himself up slowly realizing very quickly that it wasn't the best decision to make since his world literally began to spin. He closed my eyes tight and sat there for a few moments before hearing a few more yells coming from outside his room, but too faint to really hear what was being said. When his case of the spins ended, he stood himself up and shuffled his way to his bedroom door, opening it and walking down the hallway. The closer he got to basement stairs, the clearer the voices became.

He pushed open the door to see Nico and Travis all sitting on the couch playing NHL '18. "Dude, are you even trying?" Travis taunted, throwing his arms in the air. "GOAL!!! LOOK AT THAT FRESH CELLY."

Nico rolled his eyes and looked up, clearing his throat. Travis looked at him and saw his eyes looking in Nolan's direction and then looked at Nolan. "Good morning sunshine, how are you feeling this morning?" He asked, smiling.

"Like I got ran over by a truck," Nolan said, his voice very hoarse. "How long have you guys been down here?"

"We slept here, dude," Travis said, looking at him. "Didn't really want to be in your puke stench of a room honestly."

"Yeah, no offense. But we still checked on you throughout the night." Nico added, shrugging his shoulders.

The doorbell rang and Nolan took a deep breath, looking out into the hallway expecting to hear his parents or his sisters move towards the door, but hearing nothing. "And my parents and sisters?"

"Your mom and sisters went out to brunch and your dad went golfing with a work friend," Travis replied, looking away from the tv. "So it looks like you'll be the one answering the door."

"Don't fuck up my man-cave," Nolan said, leaving the man-cave and walking further down the hallway until he reached the living room. He walked around the couch and over to the front door, looking through the peephole and not seeing anyone on the porch. Weird, but he didn't dwell much on it before he unlocked the door and opened it, looking out and not seeing anyone in visible distance. He shook his head, it was probably just some neighborhood kids messing around with the Nolan Patrick.

God, kids were annoying sometimes.

Nolan went to turn away when something on the ground caught his eye. He bent down and saw an envelope lying face down on their welcome mat. Picking it up, he flipped it over to see it had his name written on it....in your handwriting. He opened the envelope and tilted it to the side, letting everything that was in it, slid into his hand. There was a letter and a Polaroid picture of the two of you and on the front, "always & forever" was written in your beautiful cursive handwriting. He flipped it over and instantly recognized the chicken scratch on the back...it was his own handwriting.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶. || 2/14/17

He remembered that picture perfectly. It was a few months into your relationship and you had flown in to surprise him for Valentine's day. He hadn't expected you to come in, so he had absolutely nothing planned. The best part is that Claude and Ryanne had you two tag along on their Valentines day plans– which included a dinner and a stroll through some of Philly's landmarks. You were most excited to see the Rocky statue and Nolan could still remember the way his heart skipped a few beats when he saw you running up the steps, laughing on your way. You had asked Ryanne to take a picture of the two of you, handing over your polaroid camera he had gotten you for Christmas. And when she laughed and told you to pose, Nolan remembered looking down at you and smiling at just how goofy you looked– like a kid in a candy store.

The memory came to an end as he held the picture in his other hand with the envelope and unfolded a piece of paper that looked like it was from a journal. It had deep creases as if it had been unfolded and refolded multiple times as well. He flipped it over to the other side and saw your handwriting and on the top right corner, a date. But it wasn't just any date...it was the day after she broke up with him.

11/18/2018

I don't know if I'll ever get the guts to actually give this to you, but you asked me for the reason why I ended things and this is the way you're going to get it. It seems selfish, I know. You deserved so much more than what I've already told you and I hope one day I'll be able to truly tell you why I did what I did. We spent two amazing years together and there's nothing in this world that I would trade them for and I never thought that we would end up where we are today...never in a million years. But things happen and things change and we can't fast-forward time to know if it's all really worth it, so we just trust our hearts and hope it turns out right. And I never really minded putting all that trust into my heart because with you, I didn't have to think twice or question myself- I kind of already knew what I wanted.

I'm rambling now, I know, but I swear I'm getting to the point. Things got so hard once you left Nolan and none of it was your fault, so don't you dare ever think it was. I just missed your a lot more than I thought I would- and it's really hard when you miss people. But you know what they say; if you miss someone that means you're lucky. It means you had someone special in your life, someone worth missing. The Skype calls and text messages and snapchats only partially filled the void, so when I flew out to visit you... I thought that everything would be okay, that everything would be perfect and wonderful again. But that last night with you, God I swear it made it worse. And I still remember that night. The night when everything fell together so perfectly and I wished it would last forever because I felt like everything was normal again...but it didn't.

So when I flew back home, it dawned on me N, it dawned on me that maybe this is supposed to be the end of us, maybe we're not meant to be together anymore. Maybe we were here to teach one another a lesson and once the lesson was taught, we were supposed to leave. Maybe you being on this amazing journey is teaching us a great lesson in life, one that we both needed to learn; that sometimes growing up means letting go of the dreams you aren't able to achieve...like those dreams of growing old together, the ones we talked about when we'd lay down on a blanket in your backyard and look at the stars.

You've got so many dreams and achievements ahead of you N and I want you to go out there and achieve them and be free while you do. I want nothing more than to see you succeed because that's what loving someone is all about. Putting them before yourself so they can flourish. So me breaking up with you has nothing to do about not loving you. It's not that we didn't love each other, it's just that love wasn't enough. So I think I have to let go...we have to let go. I really believe you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me N. And no matter where we go in life, you will forever be the person I'll never stop looking for in a crowded place.

Always and Forever, Y/N

He bit the inside of his cheek and sighed, looking up from the crinkled paper and wiping his face on his t-shirt sleeve. He took a deep breath and looked back down at the paper, folding it back up and putting the picture back into the envelope as well and walked back into his house, closing and locking the door behind him. "Hey Nolan, who was at the door?" Travis asked, his voice making Nolan jump.

"Oh uh, no one. Just the paper." He said as he opened the fridge. "Can you toss me a soda please?"

He tossed him a soda and grabbed himself one, then closing the door and meeting him in the living room. "Paper huh? Where is it?" He asked, looking down at the envelope in his hands.

"Oh, it's uh-" Nolan scratched the back of his neck, trying to come up with a lie.

He laughed and plopped his hand onto his shoulder. "It's 12:30 dude, your parents already got the paper. But I'm sure whatever it is, must have been worth the read."

"Yeah...it was," Nolan said, looking down at the envelope in his hands. "What do you say? Let's watch me kick Nico's ass in NHL '18 for the hundredth time huh?" He smiled, walking ahead of him and down the stairs, back into the man- cave.

Nolan nodded and followed him, stopping just outside the door and opening the envelope again and pulling out the small polaroid. He ran his thumb over your handwriting on the front and smiled.

Though it still hurts, he finally got his reason...and that's better than nothing.

#yikes don't let this flop plz #what's with me and sad shit #nolan patrick #nolan patrick oneshot #nolan patrick imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl writing #nhl imagine #flyers imagine #philadelphia flyers oneshot #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey ima #hockey one #my writing

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iamartemisday · 5 years

Text

Lokane Week- Sonder

A week later, she finally asked him.

“So what brought you all the way out here?” They were at the bar on one of her rare thirty-minute breaks between self-imposed twelve-hour shifts and she asked during a lull in the conversation.

Loki prided himself in always thinking ahead, and he had not forgotten this detail when crafting his human identity.

“I’m an analyst,” he said. The foreign word slid off his tongue like second nature. “I’m to spend the next few weeks assessing the education, crime rates, and general quality of living in this quaint little village.”

Jane’s cheeks bulged with half-chewed pretzel bites stuck in her frozen jaw. “You mean Puente Antiguo?”

“I don’t know where else,” he replied.

Soggy crumbs gathered at her lips before she finally thought to swallow. “Sorry, just… well, it’s not that I don’t like it here, but this place is kind of far out of the way. I didn’t think the state government would care enough to send a representative.”

“You must get used to surprises.”

“And you must tell the bartender what you’re doing here.” She popped another pretzel into her mouth. “We might get a free refill out of it.”

Jane had a strict two drink limit and she did not break the rules that night. After paying her tab, they walked into the dying sun down the street past an ice cream shop and the dying remains of what had once been a shoe store. ‘Shoes’ is the only word left on the broken down sign. The rest have long since eroded away, perhaps before Jane was even born.

Loki made a show of studying each store and the shoppers inside. If this was how proper analysts went about their job, he didn’t know, but neither did Jane.

“Do you need to ask me any questions?”

“Hmm…” His eyes were caught on hair salon with a mysterious brown stain dripping down the far wall. “What about?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. About the town and what it’s like living here. We talk all the time about my work, this is my first time hearing about yours.”

Her face was so earnest, her eyes the deepest brown. They shone with curiosity usually reserved for her work. It sent a pang through Loki’s heart that he couldn’t identify. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

“I suppose,” he said, pursing his lips. “Then you like it here?”

“Eh, can’t complain,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back. “It’s boiling in the day, freezing at night, but at least we have a 7-11 and, of course, OK Furniture.”

She pointed out the store two doors down. It was gray, box shaped, and carried a faint odor of sawdust. The windows were caked in grime. The man at the register appeared to have mastered the art of sleeping standing up

Jane shook her head. “Sorry, I just love that they named it that.”

“It does seem fitting.”

They stopped at 7-11 for snacks. Jane’s supply of kettle chips was low and Darcy would whine if she didn’t get her daily chocolate fix. Loki followed her into a sea of gaudy colors. Red and orange candy wrappers; yellow and green chip bags; enough soda and water bottles to sate the thirst of an army. Multiple bags of ‘Funyuns’ were arranged on display, selling at two for three dollars. The dried out golden rings on the label did not scream ‘fun’ to Loki, so he decided against making a purchase.

He waited at the counter for Jane to finish. The cashier, a young woman with brown skin and long black hair, eyed him over her phone when she thought he wasn’t looking. Loki met her gaze once, smiling to himself as she immediately turned to reorganize the cigarette display.

“They actually had sour cream and onion Ruffles today,” Jane said, carrying two armfuls of processed treats to the register.

The cashier smiled. “Will Darcy be happy?”

“Absolutely ecstatic,” Jane grinned. “Anyway, how are you doing, Rosa? Looking forward to August?”

The girl, Rosa, blew out a puff of air. “Oh man, Jane, it’s been crazy. I’ve been so stressed these last few months with moving and scholarship applications. My Abuelita’s convinced I’m going to move to New York and never come back.”

“I thought you were going to Yale.”

“I am! I keep telling her it’s in Connecticut, but she doesn’t believe me. Now my dad’s been lecturing me about underage drinking and my brother keeps saying he’s going to take my room when I’m gone-”

Jane nodded along and made sounds of sympathy as the girl bemoaned her misfortunes and Loki found a much more interesting flyer for one free candy bar with the purchase of three Coke products. Two more customers had arrived in this time, a man and a woman. The man wore one of those hats, a cowboy hat as he now knew them to be called. He glanced at the beef jerky display, then fixed Loki with a suspicious stare.

“Never seen you ‘round these parts, stranger,” he said, which was slightly redundant in Loki’s opinion.

“I am here to evaluate the standards and practices of this town and provide a detailed report of the living conditions therein.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “You tearing this place down and building a shopping mall?”

“...no, I don’t think so.”

“Oh.” The man wandered down the chip aisle. “Shame…”

Jane paid for her food and left after reassuring Rosa that she’d do great in college and not to worry about her family. The whole process took an extra ten minutes and Loki considered ‘taking his leave’ without her several times. Back home in Asgard, the servants would be dying to know what their remaining prince did holed up in his room all day.

“Sorry that took so long,” Jane said as she rushed to meet him with plastic bags in hand. “One nice thing about Puente Antiguo. Lots of people to talk to.”

“So I’ve seen.” Loki held the door for her. “And they have quite a lot to say.”

“I’m surprised you’re not used to it, working for the government and all.”

Loki thought back to the last party he attended with Thor and their friends. His ears still rang with the roar of their drunken laughter. “I have… met such people.”

She giggled, a much more pleasant sound by far. “Remind me to introduce you to Izzy at the diner. She’s been here longer than anyone.”

“That would be nice,” he said, though if he were honest, there was only one mortal voice he cared to hear.

#Lokane #Lokane Week #Lokane Week 19 #Jane Foster #Loki #I'm not behind you're behind

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webgeekist · 6 years

Text

Holiday Karma Pie

I paid for someone’s groceries today.

I didn’t do it for the karma. I didn’t even do it for the charity. I did it because the lady in front of me was having technical issues, and the less-than-$30 bill was worth sparing my sanity and getting out of that line. I played it off as a Christmas thing, asked the lady to pay it forward, and assured her that, yes, I was serious when I said it was no big deal. It wasn’t. I was happy to pay to get out of there.

I have a habit of picking the worst grocery lines. I thought, for a while, it was just this new place I’m in, but then I went home for Thanksgiving and went through 20 minutes of hell waiting for the family in front of me to finish arguing with the cashier about the $20 in savings they weren’t getting because their coupons weren’t scanning, or whatever other nonsense was preventing them from scanning an entire conveyor belt full of items, $200 and two carts into the bill. We moved to another line, finally, when one seemed available nearby. When we left with our own hefty bill in the cart, they were still there, slowly scanning the rest of their items.

I am also the person who will pick up the one item out of 100 without a bar code, and take three of them to the checkout lane.

It’s funny, this idea that you can buy karma with good deeds, as if your motivations don’t count. I’ve seen The Good Place. I know better than that. My motivation today was entirely self-serving, as is most charity in this country. We overwhelmingly donate our time or our money because it makes us feel better about ourselves, not because we genuinely care about giving. We’re scared into doing the “right thing” by a book that has been mistranslated and misinterpreted for centuries, and somehow have this warped idea that doing the right thing will buy us grace. Good Karma. A spot in heaven. Optimal reincarnation. At the end, there’s always something in it for us.

I’m no better than others in that regard. I do good deeds infrequently, and when I do, it’s almost always born of convenience. “Would you like to pay an extra 63 cents to round up your bill and donate to the Children’s hospital?” Sure. “Would you like to donate a dollar to aid in wildfire relief for Sonoma County?” Whatever. “Give a dollar to homeless pets?” Okay. “Save free information!” Click.

The result is positive for the recipient. That doesn’t make the motive for donation genuine.

And it doesn’t make the universe less likely to balance out your good luck with misfortune.

I think about that a lot. I’m always grateful for the positive experiences in my life, but I’m hyper aware of the fact that they often come at a premium. There’s a trade owed the universe, and you will pay it in painful ways. Maybe it’s a hard lesson you need to learn after you land your dream job. Maybe it’s illness, recovery, and loss after you find a few years of companionship. Maybe it’s your family turning their back on you a month before your wedding to the love of your life. And oh, by the way, she’s a girl and you are, too.

I’ve enjoyed two years with my fiancée. I marry her in 23 days. How many of my family will actually show up? At this point, I’m not sure.

I took a job in the Bay Area in July. It wasn’t so sudden that my fiancée didn’t have input. She absolutely did, and though we didn’t expect to be able to afford Northern California, we’re happy we could make this work. Or, at least, that we will make this work after June, which is when her teacher’s contract runs out in Texas. I’ve raked up so many frequent flyer miles, going back and forth every spare moment, and in the airspace between SFO and DAL, I’ve uncovered an anxiety I never expected to have: a fear of flying.

I have flown a Cessna. I have logged hours in a genuine full-scale 737-700 simulator. My dad was a professional pilot at one point in his life, my uncle still is, and all his kids can fly. My grandfather flew for the Thunderbirds. My brother is on his way to being a commercial pilot. I am not afraid of planes.

I started crying and choking before walking through security. I panicked when I booked tickets. If not for some of them being booked immediately after I got the job, I would not have gotten on a plane after September, but I’ve been on five trips since, fifteen total, and for most of them the what-ifs and potential loss has consumed me to the point of paralysis. Every bump and adjustment on takeoff freaks me the fuck out. The changing sounds of the engines at different altitudes and powers freaks me the fuck out. It’s taken every moment of every one of those harrowing trips to learn how to manage the anxiety, to rationalize the noises I hear from the engines, to normalize the dips and turns out of each Bay Area airport, but come Thanksgiving, when I climbed on a plane for the first long break I’d gotten at the new company, when I was so over the project I was working on that I was relieved to be standing at another fucking gate and boarding another fucking plane, all the stress management techniques I’d gathered in my anxiety did nothing to stop me from experiencing sheer terror flying out of SJC, meeting some bumpy air, banking to head south down the coast to catch a connecting flight out of LAX and bouncing around in the turn. I landed at SAT five hours later, cried in relief when the plane touched down (I always do, and I thank the plane for getting me there. That plane’s name was Tank. I gave it that name.), and stumbled into the terminal as fast as my eighth row seat would allow.

And then, I went to my family’s Thanksgiving.

I should precede this with the statement that the nine days my fiancée and I spent at my mom’s house started fairly early on with some culture shock. My fiancée is in grad school, and one of her class assignments was a “cultural plunge.” That’s a hilarious concept, because her entire life is a cultural plunge. She was born in Houston, but raised completely in India, went to college in Singapore, and came back to the states after. Living here has been one awkward learning experience after another, and with her brown skin, it’s also often been an experience of racism, of profiling, of assumptions made by ignorant people. She can’t go through an airport without getting her bag inspected and a pat-down (that happened once with my mother, and after we told her that no, my brown fiancée really does get profiled, and my mom damn near got herself arrested chewing the TSA agents out because how dare you treat her daughter like that. Yes, my mom is privileged. But, go Mom). Her background in science has often made living in Texas not unlike living on an alien world where logic and reason are outlawed. And oh, she’s a lesbian too. Discrimination trifecta.

Anyway, she submitted the idea of going to a Catholic Church on Sunday and staying for a mass as a cultural plunge, because unlike her white middle-class native Texan classmates, this was something she’d never done before.

I mean, what are the odds that they’d pick a gospel that would somehow relate to one of the many hot-button issues that any church in a red state could pick? The Pope is fairly liberal for a Catholic, and neither my mother nor I really remembered the sermons being terribly political.

Clearly, it’s been a while since we attended church.

My mother was horrified. Here was an opportunity for her to show her daughter-in-law a bit of her culture, and her upbringing, and therefore a bit of where my own morals and morality comes from. Here’s a chance for her to prove to me that the church of her childhood might have had these tenants but the sermons didn’t get into specifics, and people mostly just tried to Love Thy Neighbor.

I was pissed. I glared hard at the deacon as he climbed off the dais and walked back to his seat, and I’m certain he saw me. I’m certain he paused for a half-step because he saw my face, which I’ve been told can be really menacing when I’m angry. I don’t keep my emotions to myself very often. I don’t have a poker face like my fiancée.

She couldn’t muster that face. She was openly crying and trying not to show it. This church – this remarkably diverse church where she didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, which had epistles in three languages, which was holding a bake sale as we walked in had on its staff a white conservative deacon who took an unrelated Gospel and warped it into a hateful political rant that didn’t hit one button. Oh no. That sermon was an IED array and it hit every single freaking target on the list.

We left during the Eucharist, and we didn’t buy a pie on the way out.

Five days after this experience that left us all in a drinking mood, and which after several bottles of wine was still a little painful, we went to the Thanksgiving party with my dad’s side of the family.

A lot of my aunts, uncles, and cousins seemed genuinely excited about the wedding. There was a bit of a shadow over one of my aunts because her father is really, really ill. Dad and my stepmother told a story about my grandmother, the escape artist, who is probably a lot more together than they think but who was put in an old folk’s home for people with memory problems about two months ago. I dread going to see her because the last time I saw her in a rehab facility, after she knocked her head and suffered the brain trauma that probably drove a lot of the symptoms she still has, it was a little difficult. It’s not going to be easy to see her in a home that isn’t actually her house. She apparently agrees, because she treats visitors to a tour of the place and asks a lot of pointed questions, like how many nurses are at the front station and whether or not you think someone can get to the parking lot from any given set of doors. She’s an inmate in a place she doesn’t feel comfortable staying, and she’s already made it to her car with an overnight bag once. But they have the keys locked up. I think she’s trying to figure out where they are.

She recognizes me. Remembers my name. Knows the wedding is soon. Asks about California. Hugs my future wife. And maybe goes through a few names before she gets some of my cousins’ and uncles’ names right, but she’s been doing that since I was four. We’re a big family. She always gets it right in under six tries.

My aunt looks hesitant to talk about her father, but she does. Both of us listen as she expresses her fears about being away, even for a day or two, because the doctors haven’t been very precise in telling the family to “spend time with him while you can.” It could be days, or maybe months, but probably not through winter because winter seems to be when so many people go, like the warmth-starved land sucks them dry. Which is weird, because we’re all from South Texas, and winter there is like 80 degrees.

We sympathize, and a pang of something I have only been able to define recently shoots through me. It feels like mortality, and reminds me of my fear of flying. It reminds me that I have this thing, this person, this state of being that I found and eventually will lose, that the loss won’t come when I’m ready for it (because that is never. I will never be ready for it). My heart hurts for her and my cousins, because the man is in his 80s like my two surviving grandparents, and that is a long and accomplished life, but it is still too soon for all of them. We have fought for my grandmother often enough and recent enough that I understand that position, too.

Hours later, before the annual turkey bowl, that aunt and my uncle, plus their oldest son come find my fiancée and I in the upstairs game room where most of the cousins retreat after lunch and before football. They ask us both to come out onto the balcony with them for a few minutes. Their younger son, recently married, follows shortly after with his new bride.

And my cousin starts….with a prayer.

“Heavenly Father, please guide our conversation today in your wisdom and light.”

I have my fiancée’s hand in my own. I hold it tighter. I know where this is about to go.

My cousin is a stalwart, honest guy. He’s the eldest son of two people who have always given where they could. They drop what they’re doing to help people, simply because they need help. They give within their means, which are better means than most. Their big and open hearts were passed to two of their three sons, both of whom were standing on that balcony with them. But they are sinners, my cousin says, all of them. And he is no better than anyone. He cannot cast judgment upon sinners as one of them, as someone who has been addicted to pornography, and has crossed lines with women. He loves us both, they all do, but surely we’ve read what the Bible says and it’s wrong, wrong, wrong.

My uncle says to us, we love you. We will not change how we treat you…but we’ve prayed about this for a while, and we can’t go to the wedding.

“We can’t celebrate the sin,” my cousin says.

And I know they love us, the best way they know how. I told them that I understood their perspective, though I disagreed, and respected their decision. We hugged, my aunt called me big-hearted, someone mentioned chocolate (it might have been me), and they started filing off the balcony.

I stayed behind and broke down in my fiancee’s arms.

See, my family had been outwardly accepting until that moment, when something finally broke enough for the first people to say something about it. And my fiancée – my tall, brown, “foreign” fiancée who has tried so hard to get my family to like her – felt instantly like all that effort had been for absolutely nothing. And I? I felt guilty for putting her in that position, for forcing us into a position where my family may never truly be okay with any of this, where a lifetime of loving and supporting each other so demonstratively may yet be lost on so many people I love, because somehow our relationship all boils down to sex to some people. Theirs is about love, but ours is about sex, and lust, and sin, and how the context of the Bible may be all about polyamorous lustful activities but a committed, loving, monogamous relationship between two women is just the same as sexually abusing guests and having orgies in front of idols and a really vague Greek word which in context probably means “men who sleep with boy prostitutes” but magically includes all people who engage in the act of sodomy and well never mind that you’re not actually doing that you’re just the same as the literal “man bed” who will not inherit the kingdom of heaven.

Maybe karma can keep that paradise, because I don’t want to spend eternity in a place where loving companionship is the same as assault. I get enough of that in the news.

It took me a while to come out of the bathroom I found to hide in, because there was no amount of water that could bring the redness down, and eventually my fiancée brought my closest cousin to find me. She saw us walk out, she counted the time, and she knew something had gone wrong. We told her what had happened.

This is the brewing rift. There are some people in our family who sit in Catholic services every Sunday and are not only going to the wedding but are genuinely excited for it. And there are some who might yet show up, but will be at the bar a lot.

Those excited for it will probably not enjoy learning why so many of us are absent. What happens then is probably not high drama, but probably won’t be business as usual either. Said my closest cousin, “I don’t know what to do with them now. You have a bigger heart than me for walking out of that situation without coming downstairs and telling everyone about it immediately.”

Twice in one day, in different contexts, two people I care about made reference to my perfectly normal sized, potentially smaller than average heart. Karma revealed the consequences of my good fortune that night, and they continue to unfold by the minute. For the first time in my life, I may miss Christmas with that side of the family this year. I suspect it won’t be the last thing we miss.

I climbed on the plane to come back to California two days later, and cried over the root of the problem with all these flights: the separation has been torture, and after the emotional week we had, it was going to be hard for us to heal apart. I put on my noice-canceling earphones and turned on Radiolab just before takeoff. It was a podcast about a girl without an identity, whose family kept her sheltered and off the grid, who didn’t have any kind of paper trail because her parents didn’t believe in social security numbers, and so never let her have one. I flew over Kerrville, where she had lived most of her life, while listening to the story. Takeoff was smooth. So was most of the trip back to SJC. And except for a really rough patch of air over New Mexico on the way to Dallas on Friday, my flights this weekend were just as painless.

I landed at SFO on Sunday and thanked the plane, as usual.

My eyes were dry.

#look it's been a while and this is really personal but there you have it #lgbtq+#marriage #personal essay

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i-am-made-of-memoriies · 6 years

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Trapped in Konoha

A/N: This is a fic I’ve been working on for a while now (will be multi-chaptered). Follow my OC Niva through her adventures in Konoha. Slight Fairy Tail Naruto crossover

It was finally time for Niva to go on a mission. She checked into the the guild to remind Mirajane that she was leaving.

“I’ll be out for a while!” She exclaimed, “Tell Natsu to stay out of my fridge while I’m gone!”

“Alright!” Mira replied kindly, “Have a good time!”

Niva waved and ran out the grand double doors of the guild. She looked down at the paper that had all the mission information. The anima portal was located in an alleyway in Hargeon. She was supposed to return to Edolas to help Mystogan out with the kingdom. It was going to be a piece of cake.

The train ride went smoothly. She hopped out of the train at her stop and ambled toward the alley way shown on the mission flyer. She compared the brick alleyway to the one on the flyer. Seems about right. She thought, walking into the shadows. She placed her hand on the wall as instructed. After a few seconds a blinding light erupted from the ground. Niva closed her eyes tightly as she felt herself be lifted off the ground. She remained consumed by the bright light for at least ten minutes when she tumbled to the ground. She stood up shakily. Suddenly, everything went black. She woke up in a white hospital room. This definitely isn’t Edolas. She thought, her arms and legs were very heavy and her mind was rather fuzzy.

“I’ve never seen this girl before.” A low voice whispered, “I found her passed out right outside the village.”

“Let’s make sure she gets healed, then we’ll question her.” Replied an older voice.

“Of course Lord Third.” The first voice said, full of respect.

Lord Third? Never heard of anyone with that title. She tried to sit up but her head started spinning so she sank back into the pillows and fell asleep again.

She woke up a second time noticing something rather off. She felt lighter and smaller. With much effort, she pulled out her hands from beneath the blankets. They were much smaller. She let out a muffled scream. She was a kid again! All of this was far too overwhelming. Niva look several deep breaths and tried again to push herself out of bed. This time, she was successful. She steadied herself on the side of the bed and walked to the door where she was greeted by two nurses, a man with spiky white hair and a covered left eye, and an old man wearing a long white cloak and a kite shaped hat with white fabric cascading down from the sides.

“Ah, so you’re awake.” He said calmly, “You’re lucky Kakashi found you. If it wasn’t for him, you’d be wolf food.”

The spiky haired man smiled. Or at least she thought he did since most of his face was covered by a navy blue mask.

“What’s your name?” The old man asked. Niva then realized that he was the old man speaking earlier.

“I’m Niva.” Niva said weakly, “Niva Dhari.”

“Where do you live?”

“Magnolia. In Fiore.”

The old man looked surprised, “I’ve never heard of either of those places.” He stated suspiciously.

Then it hit Niva. There must have been a mishap with the anima portal. It must have spit her out in this weird world instead of Edolas. “I’m from a different world. The portal I was using seems to have spit me out in the wrong place.”

Kakashi looked at Niva, his eyes full of confusion. “I have heard of dimensional travel with the rinnegan but never any portals.”

Niva could sense a strange energy coming from the two. Something she had never felt before. “Do you use magic here?”

Both of them looked confused.

“In this world-or dimension I suppose, we use chakra and jutsu.” The old man said, “You must really be from another world. Show us your magic so that we can confirm your validity.”

Niva nodded. She closed her eyes and took in the ethernano in the air. There was a strange abundance here. She opened her eyes and muttered water. She scooped her hand up and gently controlled a small bubble of water.

“I could show you more if you want.” She said, “We’d have to go outside though.”

The two men nodded and led her out of the hospital and into a nearby field.

“Show us what you can do.” Kakashi said, tucking the book he had been reading into his pocket.

Niva jumped into a fighting stance. Fire. She muttered. Two large flames emerged from her palms as she molded them and shot them violently at a tree which quickly turned to ashes. Kakashi’s eyes were wide. Water. She swirled her hands above her head several times as water began to form. Soon she had collected a bush sized globe of water. She stepped back and turned the water into sharp, ice daggers. The daggers rained down on the field, embedding themselves deep in the ground. Earth. Niva stomped on the ground raising a large hunk of rock into the air. She tensed her arms and propelled it into the forest. A large crash was heard and dust drifted toward the field. Wind. She spun in a gentle circle as wind gathered in her palms. She shot the funnel of wind into another tree, blowing a hole clean through the center. Lighting. Niva closed her eyes. Small blue sparks surrounded her. She opened her eyes and tensed her palm. Crackling blue electricity surrounded it as she fired it into yet another tree, lighting it on fire. Water. She flicked her wrist nonchalantly and put out the fire. Metal. Niva raised her hands and lifted the kunai and shuriken out of Kakashi’s pouch. She changed their form into a long sword and swung at a wooden stake, cutting it clean in half.

“That’s incredible!” The old man exclaimed, “How old are you?”

Niva looked once at her body. Probably twelve. “Thirteen.” She responded confidently.

“Academy age.” He said, “The academy students are wrapping up their training and will be taking the ninja exam soon. I advise you join them. You’ll have no problem passing the exam. Kakashi, take her to the apartments and set her up with an open one. Don’t worry about finances Niva. Since you are young, we’ll care for it. My name is Hiruzen Sarutobi. You can call me Lord Hokage or Lord Third.”

Niva nodded. She could play along for a bit but she really needed to return to Fiore as soon as possible.

“Follow me.” Kakashi instructed, walking toward the bustling sidewalk. The two passed shops filled with people and houses with families playing inside and out. The village was sweet and productive. Many people wearing the same vest and headband as Kakashi walked throughout the streets. Some protecting the main entrance and some just having fun and talking. A pink haired girl about Niva’s current age was walking alongside a blonde girl. The two of them were talking or arguing. It was hard to tell.

“Sakura, Ino!” Kakashi exclaimed, “Meet Niva. She’s new in the village and will be taking classes with you. I hope you can get along.”

“Hello!” The pink haired girl said enthusiastically, “My name’s Sakura. You can hang out with us if you want. The only condition is that you keep your hands off Sasuke. He’s mine!”

The blonde girl looked taken aback, “I’m Ino and Sasuke’s mine!”

“Who’s Sasuke?” Niva asked, already annoyed with the girl’s antics.

Sakura pointed sheepishly at a boy with spiky black hair walking down the street. He looked so uninterested and cold. Definitely annoying.

“Hey!” Niva called, “You’re Sasuke?”

Sasuke looked over, “And you are?”

“Niva. I’m new here. Everyone seems to like you or something. Please tell me you’re not all stuck up and aloof.”

“Ugh.” He said. What a waste of my time. All you girls are the same.” He walked off, not once looking back.

“What a jerk.” Niva said, “Why do you two like him so much?”

“DON’T SAY THAT ABOUT SASUKE!” The two girls said in unison.

“He’s just so dreamy.” Sakura said blushing.

“And so strong.” Ino added.

The two girls let out a unison sigh. Niva rolled her eyes and walked back over to Kakashi.

“So where will I be staying again?” She asked, totally done with the two annoying fangirls.

“Just down the street.” He said, staring at his book.

The two arrived at a small apartment complex. Kakashi led Niva up the stairs and to the first door on the left. He whipped out a key and opened the door to reveal a small apartment with a bed, kitchen, bathroom, and a couch.

“You can get new clothes from the ninjashop a couple blocks away. Just give them this note and get whatever you need. Don’t forget to pick up kunai and shurikens for academy practice. Your first day is tomorrow.” Kakashi handed Niva a note and walked out the door, leaving the key on the windowsill.

Niva lay down on her bed and took a deep breath. I’ll go back through the portal tomorrow after the Academy. She thought. I’ll leave a note thanking them for their kindness and leave all the stuff I bought here. She grabbed the key from the windowsill and walked out of the house, locking the door behind her. Sitting on the stair rail was a boy with blonde hair. He had bright blue eyes and three whiskers on each cheek.

“Hey.” Niva said leaning on the railing across from him, “What’s your name? I just moved here.”

The boy looked excited, almost like it was a treat for people to talk to him at all, “My name’s Naruto Uzumaki! I’m gonna be Hokage one day, just you watch!”

Niva remembered the old man she had met. Lord Hokage. Seems important. Good luck Naruto. “I’m Niva Dhari. Good luck on becoming Hokage!”

Niva walked down the stairs and on the the sidewalk. She could sense Naruto grinning at the top of the steps. She passed the same shops that she did on the way to her apartment. She saw one with a kunai on the sign and walked in. It was definitely a ninjashop. She picked out a burgundy tunic, a pair of black shorts, thigh high socks, and ninja sandals. She looked at the ninja equipment rack and grabbed a set of kunai and shuriken and one long sword. She plopped down her items on the counter and handed the cashier the note. The cashier nodded, bagged the equipment and handed it to Niva. The sun was beginning to set and Niva’s stomach was grumbling. Kakashi had given her a note for food but she didn’t know where to eat. She decided to go ask Naruto for a recommendation.

The evening was warm and calm. A slight breeze made Niva’s long, wavy hair rustle softly. She climbed the steps to the apartment and saw Naruto still sitting on the railing.

“You’ve been sitting there the whole time?” Niva asked, smiling.

“Yeah! I wanted to wait for you to come back so I could invite you over for some ramen!” He said enthusiastically.

“I’d love to!” Niva replied, “You know how to cook?”

“Nope.” Naruto said, “It’s cup ramen. Trust me it’s good though.”

“I bet it is. Let me wash up, I’ll be right over.”

“Okay! See you soon.”

Niva pulled the key out of her pocket and opened the door. Looked like Lord Hokage had stopped by with groceries. How sweet of him. She put the groceries in the refrigerator and walked into the bathroom. Her dark brown hair was a mess and her face was dirty. She pulled a towel off the rack and washed her face, reverting it to it’s usual chocolate brown. She grabbed the hairbrush she bought from a small shop and started brushing her hair. She tied it up in a messy bun, grabbed the key, and left the apartment. She looked at the doors, searching for the one Naruto had mentioned. There it was. She knocked twice and was greeted very quickly by Naruto.

“Hi!” Naruto exclaimed, “I’ve got the ramen all set up. Come sit down!”

“Alright.”

Niva walked through the door into an incredibly messy apartment. The table had been cleared and all that was on it were two cups of steaming ramen.

“Mmmm! Smells delicious!” Niva said excitedly, “Let’s dig in!”

Niva slurped the ramen ravenously. She was starving! In a few minutes she had finished her cup.

“Thank you so much!” She said patting Naruto on the back, “Do you go to the ninja academy?”

“Yeah!” He said smiling, “Are you joining?”

“As of tomorrow!”

“Well see you then!” Naruto replied, grinning from ear to ear.

Niva walked out of the apartment and into hers. She threw on the long t-shirt that she was originally given by Lord Hokage and climbed into bed. Academy started at eight, she couldn’t be late for the first class. Niva closed her eyes and drifted into a soft sleep.

She woke up at seven precisely and pulled her new outfit on. On her way out, she grabbed some bread from the bag of food Lord Hokage had dropped off and ran off to the academy. Kakashi had told her to find a large red building with students about her age gathering around it. It wasn’t hard to find. Especially not with the racket that the girls surrounding Sasuke were making.

“Get to your classroom!” A young man with a scar across his nose announced, “Don’t be late!”

“Yes Iruka-sensei.” The students said in unison.

Niva followed the group of students up to a classroom with raised desks. Niva sat at a desk on the left side at the middle desk. Sasuke slid into the booth after she sat down. Not the aloof annoying kid again. She thought scootching as far away from him as possible. Iruka-sensei walked into the room and began to take attendance.

“Choji Akimichi?”

A plump boy answered.

“Niva Dhari, you’re the new one.”

“Yeah. That’s me.” Niva replied.

“Sakura Haruno?”

Sakura replied quickly and reverted her gaze to Sasuke.

Iruka-sensei went through all the names and stopped at Naruto.

“Is Naruto here today?” He asked, exasperatedly, “He’s probably just late again.”

Right on cue, Naruto came bursting through the door, his books and supplies falling everywhere. He quickly apologized for being late and went to go sit down in the front of the classroom.

“What a loser.” Sasuke muttered.

“Well you shouldn’t be talking.” Niva whispered back.

Sasuke rolled his eyes and continued to look forward. I swear. This guy is so irritating! Niva thought.

“Now that everyone’s here,” Iruka-sensei started, shooting a quick glare at Naruto, “Today we’ll be sparring and practicing for the upcoming ninja exams. We will be doing matches at random but you are welcome to challenge anyone.”

Iruka stood up and led the children out the door and into a training field.

“You are not allowed to use any ninjutsu or weapons.” He said seriously, “This is taijutsu training practice only.”

“I challenge Sasuke!” Naruto announced, glaring at Sasuke.

“Okay.” Iruka started, “First match, Naruto versus Sasuke. Begin!”

Naruto ran at Sasuke, preparing for a punch. Dumb move. Niva thought. Sasuke just needs to trip him and he’s won the match. Just as Niva expected, Sasuke swept his foot and knocked Naruto clean off his feet. He went in for the pin. One arm holding Naruto down and the other a fist in front of Naruto’s face.

“Sasuke is the winner.” Said Iruka-sensei, pulling the two apart, “Anyone want to challenge Sasuke?”

Niva grinned, “I challenge Sasuke.” She announced, entering the ring.

“Alright. Next round, Sasuke versus Niva.”

Niva stood in front of Sasuke. He wanted her to make the first move so that he could finish her off. Niva wasn’t going to let that happen. It was best to trick him into thinking she was making the first move, then finish him off. Niva went in for the first move that Naruto had made. Just as Niva had expected, Sasuke lifted one foot to sweep at Niva’s legs. At that moment he was off balance and Niva had an open shot. She stepped up close to him, grabbing his sleeve and collar. She rotated her body sideways and threw him clean over her hip. Once he hit the ground, she knelt down raising her hand for a punch.

“The winner of the second round is Niva.” Iruka announced, surprised, “Anyone want to challenge Niva?”

Sakura looked at Sasuke slowly standing up, still recovering from the impact of his fall. Sakura couldn’t let anyone do that to her Sasuke. No way.

“I challenge Niva!” She declared, “I’ll avenge you Sasuke! Shannaro!”

Sakura stepped in the ring, glancing over at Sasuke to make sure he was okay. The two girls jumped into fighting stances. Sakura stood shakily, her knees facing each other. All it would take was a small push and she’d be finished. This was going to be an easy match. Sakura held her hands in front of her face, trying to look intimidating. Niva quickly ran at her, and gave her a small push. Niva stood in front of her falling body and kicked right over her head, not wanting to actually hurt her.

“The winner of this match is Niva.” Iruka announced again, “Anyone want to challenge her?”

The group of students stayed silent. If she could defeat Sasuke, the strongest classmate in two moves, what would she do to them?

“I suppose no one then.” Iruka sighed, “Next match is Hinata and Kiba. Take your positions.”

Hinata looked worried and tentative as she stepped into the ring. But the second Iruka said ‘begin’ a calm passed over her and she looked ready to fight. She closed her pale eyes and said “Byakugan!” suddenly the veins around her eyes were more apparent. She ran at Kiba, striking in precise spots. The boy blocked some of the hits and took others. He began hitting her but she dodged all his hits gracefully. The match went on for at least ten minutes without anyone pulling ahead. Iruka finally called the match off, deeming it a tie. The two competitors leaned down to catch their breath and gave each other a quick unison sign. Niva sat back and watched the rest of the matches. This world was nice. She wouldn’t mind staying here a little longer but she had to get back to Fiore and finish her mission. Mystogan would be so angry if she just went and ditched it.

The rest of the Academy day passed quickly. Niva had learned about the history of this world and about the strange power that they used called jutsu. Iruka dismissed the class and all the students went running for the door. All but Niva and Sasuke.

“Hey you.” Sasuke said looking uninterestedly at Niva.

“Yes me. I have a name.” Niva replied, wanting to leave this conversation as soon as possible.

“You actually have some fighting skill. It’s strange that you’re not fawning over me like the other girls.”

“Tch. I don’t have time for boys or dating or stupid stuff like that. I have more important things to do.” Niva gave Sasuke a quick wave goodbye and went to go that Iruka-sensei.

“Thank you Iruka-sensei.” She said standing by his desk, “You’re a really good teacher.” With that, Niva decided to walk over to the portal and go back to Fiore. It was about time.

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