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hockeywhy · 3 years

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caught in the middle (1); m. barzal

SYNOPSIS: For the sake of your friend’s wedding with Tito, you and Mat agree to maintain the facade of still being the happy couple everyone sees you as. But the act comes with its consequences, one more taxing than the other. WARNINGS: language. WORD COUNT: 11.2k A/N: I am so excited for this because it contains some of the tropes I enjoy seeing in fics, and I was dying to also put out some new content as opposed to only reposting my old writing. I wish I wrote this when I was still decent at doing the thing, but I hope that this is still an enjoyable read that makes you look forward to the next part! Title is based off Alexander 23′s Caught in the Middle which is such a good song and I really recommend. Sections in italics represent flashbacks.

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

“We’re getting married!”

You gasped, bringing both hands to cover the lower half of your face as your jaw dropped at the announcement. It shouldn’t be so surprising – you would’ve bet even your most prized possession that this was bound to happen at some point eventually – but knowing this was actually now a sure thing sent a thrill through you. It didn’t take long for the shock to wear off and in place of it, your expression mirrored that of your best friend’s: the wide grin, the bright eyes and of course, the giggles of sheer excitement as soon as the news sunk in. Elise was glowing and next to her, Tito embodied the idea of what the world’s proudest man would look like.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, and Elise burst into laughter, not hesitating to jump out of her seat at the same time you did so that the two of you could embrace. Among your squeals and giggles, you could faintly make out the sound of hands being clapped, then caught sight of Mat and Tito hugging. Over Elise’s shoulder and over Tito’s, you and Mat exchanged smiles and you couldn’t help the chuckle that left your mouth as soon as he winked at you. “Congratulations!” you said as soon as you broke apart, though the two of you still held hands. Immediately, your gaze fell down to her hand where a ring now rested, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you hadn’t taken notice of it earlier. “Just—when? How? Where? Who else knows?”

“We don’t have a date or venue set yet, but we wanted you and Mat to be the first to know,” Elise informed you as soon as you took your seats again.

“We have a favour to ask from both of you,” Tito supplied. As soon as he said it, you felt Mat’s hand wrap around your own and the two of you exchanged a brief look during which he squeezed your hand gently, before diverting your attentions back to the soon-to-be newlyweds.

Newlyweds. The immensity of the word sent a discrete shiver down your spine.

“I can’t imagine asking this of anyone else: I want you to be my best man,” Tito directed at Mat.

“You shouldn’t even think of asking this of anyone else,” Mat responded immediately, and the two shook hands on it. You couldn’t help but think that if they weren’t as comfortable as they were now, they’d probably hug again, do their typical pats on the back or fist bump as they usually did, but Elise’s head now rested on Tito’s shoulder and Mat’s hand was so warm, so firm atop your own.

“Be my maid of honour, please?” Elise asked. “I can’t think of anyone more suitable than you and Mat as best man and maid of honour. We’ll return the favour of course,” she added playfully.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you warned without hesitating because after all, you had no reason to – and you knew Mat would agree with you.

Although the two of you hadn’t touched on the subject yet, there was an unvoiced knowledge shared between you that eventually, this would also be you. Eventually, Mat would ask you and your heart would grow and your soul would warm, and you would say yes. Yes, yes, yes.

As you all settled down to hear a replay of how Tito popped the question and Elise accepted the ring, Mat’s thumb began caressing the back of your hand. Though the gesture wasn’t a novelty, you couldn’t help but take notice of the way your heart fluttered each time he seemed to linger more on your ring finger. It wasn’t difficult to imagine a ring wrapped around it but neither of you were in a rush: you simply waited for the right time to take your relationship to a point in which it would become a forever thing, fully confident it wasn’t a question of ‘if’ but rather, ‘when’.

This was anything but the right time.

You frown as you cast a glance down at the phone resting on your lap, eyes narrowing a little at the name which brought the display to life for the second time in the space of less than a minute. You click the side button twice, silencing the vibrations of it and from your side, your colleague leans in to whisper to you.

“You can take it if it’s urgent. I’ll fill you in afterwards.”

“Thanks,” you whisper back. “I think it can wait until the meeting wraps up though.”

Luke gives you a well, if you’re sure look as he leaned back in his chair and you flash him a grateful smile.

Still, it is difficult for you to settle comfortably in your seat again and much to your chagrin, you find yourself crossing and uncrossing your legs as if the call had sent some sort of signal to your entire body kickstarting jitteriness you can honestly do without. Not long after you find some comfort and energy to draw yourself back to the present, your phone buzzes again – only once this time, indicating a message.

I’m waiting for you in the lobby.

Fuck, you curse inwardly, locking the phone in frustration. As quietly as you can, you gather your notebook and work tablet then lean in towards Luke who met you halfway. “Have to run but let me know if I miss anything important.”

“At the current rate, I wouldn’t count much on it but will do anyway,” he states as quietly as he can and the two of you exchange sly, conspiratorial smiles before you excuse yourself quickly and very quietly while making a swift exit.

Internally, a string of curses follow without a break in between, and you have to physically bite down on your lip out of sheer fear one might unconsciously slip out. If anyone would be in your shoes, though, they wouldn’t blame you for it. You are the type of person to stick closely to any plans and agreements made, so the fact that he just chose to turn up so unexpectedly doesn’t sit right with you. Not anymore, that is. Besides, you had both agreed to do this after your workday ended as opposed to midday and definitely not in this place. Now, you have to brace yourself for coping with a foul mood on top of whatever else the rest of the day would throw at you.

“You’ve got a visitor,” Rachel announces quietly in a sing-song voice from behind the reception desk as you approach. She doesn’t bother masking the giddiness in her tone and you struggle to work up as genuine of a smile as you can when she nods her head towards the waiting area.

“Thanks, Rach.”

“Bet he must be so happy your redeployment to the Baltimore offices was cut short so quickly,” she coos.

“Sure is. We’re still on for tonight?” you ask quickly in an attempt to drive attention away from the subject before she can try to lead into it too far for your own comfort at the moment.

Rachel’s smile falters a little, her expression somewhat quizzical. “Don’t you want to postpone so you could spend some time with him? You only just got back yesterday, after all.”

You swallow uncomfortably before shrugging. “We’ve got plenty of time to do that. So tonight, okay? I’ll catch you later.”

“Your call. See you then, Y/N!”

You only had just a split second to brace yourself for what is ahead of you, so you draw in a breath then slowly exhale it as discreetly as you can while cutting your way across the lobby. Since agreeing to this meeting, you prepared yourself as best as you could, imagining every single scenario and devising the appropriate plan for it: from the way you presented yourself to what you said, you had a mental plan for everything including a few backups just in case. The only thing you hadn’t factored in, apparently, was how little was under your control and you hated that. Each step you take made you feel less and less prepared for what is ahead, and the thought rattles you. If you were swift enough on your feet, you could just about make a quick turn and dip into the hallway leading to the visitor restrooms. All you need is just a few more seconds. A little alone time for you to run over your lines in your head.

Except—

Mat looks up at the same time you take a step sideways, ready to bolt towards temporary safety. His eyebrows rise a little as if surprised by the sight of you, but you refuse to appear outwardly deflated by the turn of events. Instead, you square your shoulders, tip your head back a little and arch an eyebrow. You can do this. You note he is dressed casually, and his hair is pushed back underneath a black cap.

Unless there was a change in schedule, Thursdays were scrimmage days.

Your jaw clenches ever so slightly as you recall that with so much ease. Then again, you basically built up a collection of information that was practically helpful or useful to exactly no one over the course of the past few years. It’ll probably take just as much or maybe more to replace that with something different, so you try cutting yourself some slack whenever you are willing to.

“I thought we agreed on five thirty,” you state coolly, pitching your voice at just the right tone to also express surprise.

Mat pushes up from the armchair, returning whatever magazine he’d picked up back on the nearby glass table. “Sorry, I tried calling earlier this morning to ask if we can reschedule but it went straight to voicemail.”

Oh. You mentally curse yourself for not charging your phone as soon as you made it home from the airport the previous night or bothering to check the voicemail message you’d been notified of once it did begin charging earlier this morning at your desk.

“They rescheduled the viewing of the new arena for this evening, and I was in the area, so I thought I’ll drop by just in case,” Mat continues, throwing a cursory glance around the place though to you, it seemed more like a way of having a break from the eye contact. You don’t complain; you welcome that.

You open your mouth, ready to berate his poor timing but even you could admit you carry some fault here too. Only a little. You bite down lightly on the tip of your tongue, before nodding towards the seats though you didn’t wait for Mat; you sit, deciding he could make up his own mind if he wanted to follow or not.

“How was Baltimore?” he asks after a few moments of awkward silence while settling in the same armchair he previously occupied.

“Mat,” you say, hoping it comes across as more of a warning than a plea. You can’t deal with small talk and a part of you thinks that’d make the entire deal even more difficult to go through with. He presses his lips together into a thin line and you take that as your sign to continue. “Elise told me she’d like us to be at the venue a day in advance of the rehearsal dinner if we can. I’ve already arranged my leave for that, so it’s not a problem for me. I’m planning on making my way there sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

“We can go together then. I can pick you up after work.”

“There’s no need—”

“Y/N.” The sharpness of his tone catches you off guard and you can swear Mat was equally surprised by that, though only for the briefest of moments. He slides forward a little in the seat almost as if he is more than ready to leave but Mat has never been one to back down so easily and you doubt any of that changed during the course of the past three months or so. “You were the one who insisted we go through with this and I’m trying. I really am, but you’re not giving me anything to work with. So please. Let’s just put everything to the side, do what we need to do and then it’s done.”

Done. Like it is a task, like it is something you needed to cross off a to-do list, scrunch it up then trash it.

The finality of the word is so heavy that it feels as if it had managed to knock out all the air in your lungs. You and Mat were running headfirst towards a fork in the road, and deep down you knew that was truly it. If until now the two of you have been dancing around each other, playing pretend as if you were kids living in a world of fantasy, you know that eventually, you have to let light shine on the truth: whatever lay ahead, you and Mat could no longer walk the same paths. It is just a matter of admitting it not only to yourselves, but also to the people you were lying to.

Lying for, you prefer.

Defeated, you slump in your own seat a little, legs crossing and fingers tapping lightly against the back of your notebook. “Be at my place by two. I’ll have everything that I need ready the night before so we won’t need to wait around.” A pause, and then, “how’s Tito?”

Mat lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Excited. Nervous. It’s the only thing he talks about in the locker, outside of it, on ice and off ice. How’s Elise?”

“Same deal with her. I never knew there were so many shades of blue before, but I’ve been proven wrong before.”

A pause follows that could easily be attributed to the group of people rushing into the building and allowing noise from the street outside to filter in while the doors were kept open, but you can tell there is more to it than that if you are to go by the shift in Mat’s expression. His expression changes and you find you can’t quite read into it or guess what could be going on through his head. You try not to focus much on the little voice inside your mind that was bothered by it but find it takes a considerable amount of effort to do so. Force of habit, you conclude.

“You don’t say,” Mat finally responds. There is a hint of accusation in his tone. Or regret. Maybe both.

Your lips press together firmly, a light frown forming on your face but chose to let that slide. Not only is the lobby of your workplace the least suitable place to have an argument about the two of you, but you find that even those short moments of seeing Mat face to face months after you called it quits appears to take a toll on you. You feel tired, worn out and willing to be the first one to back down for once.

It is cruel irony that a big red neon EXIT sign is visible from the corner of your eye.

You release a quiet, long sigh then stand up from the seat. “Well, I guess we’re done here? I do have another meeting to prepare for, so…” You trail off, already backing away a few steps.

Mat opens his mouth as if ready to say something else but promptly presses his lips together, deciding against it. He gives a swift nod of his head then stands up. It’s then you notice the two Styrofoam cups in front of him and the neon EXIT sign imprinted in your mind starts flashing temptingly at you. Mat is a step ahead. He holds out one of the cups towards you and you are ready to tell him off for it, but he cut in.

“Thought I wouldn’t drop by empty handed.” When you don’t make a move to accept it, his eyes briefly peek behind you. “Rachel’s all eyes this way, by the way,” he informs you and a brief glance over your shoulder confirms Mat hasn’t been lying.

As soon as you turn to look towards the reception desk, Rachel grins, waves quickly at you then turns back to her computer screen. Begrudgingly, you accept the cup of coffee and force a tight smile.

“See you soon,” you say by way of greeting and didn’t wait to hear a response from Mat.

It isn’t until you scan your pass to cross the security barriers and make a turn out of sight that you take a sip from the drink and almost immediately wish you didn’t. It’s your order to a T. The two of you even brought a coffee machine that would let you replicate it on days when you didn’t feel like leaving the comforts of your apartment, especially days when Mat didn’t need to get up early for practices or scrimmages or evening games. It stayed with Mat when you left and the memory left a bitter taste in your mouth, despite the gentle sweetness of the beverage.

Without thinking twice, you throw the cup in the nearest trash can.

As soon as your order is set on the table, you ignore the basket of fries and reach straight for your glass to take a long sip from the straw, letting out a content sigh as soon as you felt satiated enough.

“Long day,” you state in response to Rachel’s raised eyebrows but she seems to accept that by raising her own glass. You clink yours against hers, take a smaller sip then set it back down on the table. “What time do you think you’ll make it over to the hotel?”

“Well, I was thinking of trying to get there by midday on the day of the rehearsal dinner but it’s starting to look more like late afternoon. I’m…” She trails off, and you can just about pick up on her hesitation and the way her gaze shifts over to the side momentarily as if avoiding something or considering whether to continue that. You move in your seat, peeling your back away from the plush backrest to lean in a little closer.

“You’re…” you trail off, voice peaking just a little into a question in an attempt to prompt her to continue.

Rachel takes a deep breath in, shoulders visibly drooping and when she looked back at you, she did so with a look that could only reflect…shame? Embarrassment?

“Luke and I are sort of thinking of coming along together.” At the sight of your widened eyes, she quickly adds, “just as friends! We’re still working out through a few things and we’re taking it slow. As in, much, much slower than the first time around.”

“No way! That’s… Rach, that’s so good. I’m happy for you both, seriously.”

You find that you truly believed that, though it wasn’t a surprise to you. You had introduced Rachel to Luke while she visited you in Baltimore and at the time, he worked with you there also. Initially, you didn’t think much of it - you simply invited her to come along to a few after work drinks and the two kicked it off easily that night. Very easily apparently, because as the night started coming to an end, Rachel prompted you to go ahead without her. Ready to say you weren’t going to leave her own her own, you shortly found out exactly why: you watched with plenty of amusement and fascination as she and Luke climbed into a taxi together and whizzed off to his place, undoubtedly. That was pretty much their start and continuation. Her visits to Baltimore were more frequent and though you were seeing her often enough, it definitely wasn’t as much as Luke saw of her. And you were fine with that. They fit almost perfectly and it only took a few more meetings for them to label themselves as a couple.

Things began crumbling as soon as Luke had moved to the New York office just a few weeks before your own return. While he seemed fine with the idea of Rachel working in the same place, that wasn’t also her take on things.

“It’s weird,” she told you through the phone. “It just… It’s so weird. I’d be seeing him at my place or his and in the office? No thanks. That’s way too much for me, you know?”

It made sense, of course, and though you rooted for them, you didn’t want to push her into something she wasn’t comfortable with. Yet, there was a tremble to her voice, a sort of uncertainty that made you think otherwise. It wasn’t that Rachel didn’t have any feelings for him - maybe she was simply shocked to see him walk through those glass doors one morning to pick up his brand new ID and claim what would soon become his permanent desk across from yours.

“Thanks,” she tells you, pulling you back into the present. “But like I said, slow and easy does it. We’ve been talking more and that makes a huge difference.”

“For sure. If communication isn’t the backbone of a relationship, I don’t know what is,” you agree and wasn’t that ironic? You’re hardly in the position of giving any relationship advice at all or saying what is good for one and what isn’t. Not anymore. Not when your own had fallen apart.

Rachel grins. “You’d know. You and Mat have been together for… how long now?”

You should’ve seen it coming a mile away. You swallow uncomfortably, take another sip of your drink and take a few fries just to buy yourself a little more time. “Maybe four years? Don’t really keep track of that anymore,” you said as casually as you could muster, lifting your shoulders in a shrug.

“I think I’d stop doing that eventually too at the rate you two are going. Honestly, I would’ve bet anything you would’ve been the first to tie the knot. Actually, thinking about it,” she says, clicking her fingers in recollection, “Elise said the same thing to me the other day when we caught up on the phone. She went—“

You don’t really register her words. There is a low ringing in your ears and an uncomfortable draft sweeps in the locale as the entrance door somewhere behind you is being kept open, no doubt a large group making their way in; it sends shivers down your body, but really, you are pretty sure you can’t only attribute them to a brief gust of wind. After all, your sweater is keeping you sufficiently cosy and warm. In front of you, Rachel continues praising your relationship with Mat, talking about how anyone took a look at you both and would say, whatever they have going, I want it too and you are trying so, so hard to block out as much as you can of it. You can stop her, of course; distract her with whatever random topic and you know she’d go with it but your jaw is locked in place, teeth clenched uncomfortably. You blame that and the way your nails dig into the palms of your hands on the sting behind your eyes and the sudden heaviness weighting down on your chest.

It isn’t so much the pain of your relationship ending that was rendering you in a state of daze, but the shame of what you and Mat agreed to do: pretend the two of you were still the happy couple Elise, Tito and everyone else thought of you as just to not spoil whatever luck they thought you’d be passing on to them by being their main witnesses. And then, once the event passes and they would return to New York from the honeymoon you and Mat would soon gift to them on their wedding day, you’d tell them the truth. Or part of it anyway. Definitely no mentions that the two of you were childish enough to play pretend; just a simple, clean break timed just perfectly with your request to be permanently redeployed elsewhere. Preferably, as far from New York City as possible so that you no longer have to walk the streets you once both did or yearn to once again visit that perfect pie place the two of you once dubbed your own.

“We’re not together anymore.”

The words stumble out of your mouth in a desperate now or never manner. Despite the anxiousness that came with the act, you find relief in it also. It feels freeing to be able to admit the truth to someone that isn’t only yourself though perhaps you should’ve thought of this more carefully: the idea of now needing to come fully clean to Rachel is somewhat daunting, mostly because of what she might say in response to the front you and Mat are trying to uphold. But for the first time in what feels like too long, you no longer feel like a fraud; like a person lying to everyone around them.

“Wait.” Rachel frowns, and it was obvious she doesn’t quite know what to do with that information or how to best process it. Her head tilts a little, palm idly rubbing against the side of her neck so you take the initiative to come across as unbothered by this as possible by leaning into the seat, legs crossing as you fiddled with the drink’s straw. “What? I’m confused. Didn’t Mat just drop by earlier? You two seemed okay. He was…fine when he came in. We didn’t talk much, sure, but he was all smiley and just…normal.”

You laugh quietly and shortly. “It’s been a while now. Maybe two or three weeks before I left for Baltimore, I think. It’d be pretty worrying if he was still hung up about it. After all, we both agreed on it. And this,” you add, a little more disheartened and embarrassed. “This…thing we’re doing. We promised Tito and Elise we’ll be there for them on their big day and we will. But they had this… I guess, idea of us being an ideal couple. Whatever that is,” you continue more quietly and with a roll of your eyes. “He wanted to tell Tito, but I didn’t want to spoil Elise’s day, you know? So he agreed. Took some convincing because it feels so… Gosh, it sounds so stupid, doesn’t it? Pretending we’re still together just to spread some fake cheer around.”

“Oh, honey…” Rachel whispers and you read the sympathy in her voice. Not that she makes it particularly difficult to take note of. “But… I thought everything was okay. Actually, way more than okay. Perfect, even. What…uh—“ She trailed off awkwardly, but you could easily fill in that gap.

What happened?

You bring the beverage to your mouth, this time drinking from the glass directly as opposed to using the straw. The mixer stings your throat this time around but the small ice cube you take into your mouth numbs it away pretty quickly. Slowly, you chew it to small pieces and speak only when you finish it.

“I thought long and hard about this the first few weeks after we called it quits,” you admit. “We always talked about what bothered us or if there was something on our mind, but at one point we just… We stopped wanting to compromise. When I was put forward for Baltimore, it was going to be a permanent thing. Mat was happy, sure, but I could tell he wasn’t being entirely honest with me, you know? When I called him out on it, he asked me well what about us? And I said we’d be fine. Baltimore isn’t a different continent. It’s not even a different timezone. He could come over when he had free time and if he didn’t, I’d always spend weekends in New York anyway. It’s Baltimore, Rach. Not fucking San Francisco or whatever. Eventually, he told me exactly what was on his mind: he couldn’t do long distance. Not even for a short period of time while I figured out if Baltimore is really what I wanted. Isn’t it a bit hypocritical, though?” You question, but it’s clear Rachel feels a bit awkward about giving her take on it right now, so you make it easier for her by responding to your own question. “I felt lonely too when he was on the road. I was worried he’d find someone different, someone much better while away. He never gave me a reason to doubt him, but a small part of me still thought what if. This happened right before he was on the road again, actually. We didn’t call, barely even texted those weeks and then when he returned, we decided it’d be best to break up. Didn’t take us a long discussion to get to that conclusion because at that point, it just… I don’t know. It felt like we didn’t have much to say to each other.”

Rachel presses her lips together, the frown still on her face and hesitantly, she asks, “who said it first?”

“I did,” you respond without hesitating. “He wanted a break while we work it all out but come on, Rach, a break? Look me in the eyes and tell me people really believe in breaks and they come back to each other as if nothing happened.”

“I mean…” she trails off, pointing at herself by way of explanation. “Look at me and Luke, I guess.”

You shake your head. “Nope. Not the same thing, trust me. This was for the best, Rach. It’s much neater to call it quits. That way, neither of us will feel obliged to hold back if life puts something different ahead of us.” You pause for a moment, teeth biting into your lower lip. “They said they’ll always have me back there if I decide on it, so who knows. Once I wrap up the project their called me back for, I might just take them up on it. Not quite a promotion, but it’ll be a good sidestep and maybe a change of scenery is what I need.”

“And do you think it’s good? What the two of you are doing right now?” Rachel questions, not at all deterred by your weak attempt at trying to divert conversation to a more work related topic. “And I don’t mean it just for Elise and Tito’s wedding, but for you and Mat generally speaking. I mean… the two of you have been together for a pretty long time. Doesn’t it… Isn’t it odd?”

“It’s not normal, that’s for sure,” you confirm. “But it’d be weirder for everyone if we were to tell them we’re no longer together given we’ve been asked to do what we need to do. Rach, promise me this stays between us, okay? Promise. I know how it sounds, I know how it’ll look but trust me on this, okay?”

She fixes you with a sceptical stare, a look that holds yet more questions than certainty but eventually, she nods her head and relief washes over you at the gesture. “I’m sorry it happened, Y/N,” she offers, voice warm and sympathetic as she places a hand on the table palm up. “And I’m sorry you went through it alone.”

You smile softly and reach for it, returning the squeeze she gives you. There is comfort in the gesture, comfort in her words and you find yourself rooting for it, so grateful to have received it. “The worst part is over, but thank you, Rachel. “It means a lot.”

“Feel like carpooling with Luke and I?”

“I’m good,” you assure as you both relax back into your seats. “Elise wants us there the day before the rehearsal. I guess just to have some familiar faces around that aren’t just wedding planners, so Mat and I agreed to go together tomorrow. Promise I won’t lose my shit if our song plays on the radio,” you add jokingly and find yourself laughing along with Rachel.

“What song’s that?”

Too many, you think, although one in particular stands out to you. “Brett Young’s In Case You Didn’t Know.”

A tray containing an assortment of dishes is set on the table and shortly after, an ice cold pitch of sangria accompanies that. Eager to cool down, you reach for one of the empty glasses to pour yourself a drink but Mat’s quicker. He takes them both, filling your glass first before his own. You laugh to yourself and Mat grins at that, briefly looking towards you as he fills his glass. You’re about to take a sip, eager to both quench your thirst and cool down but Mat takes the initiative of initiating a toast by raising his glass a little, elbow resting on the table.

“What’re we toasting for tonight?” You ask, imitating his pose by leaning forward a little. “To our first holiday together? To how perfect the weather’s been so far? To how I mastered paddle boarding way before you did?”

Mat laughs, lowering his head as he did so but when he looked back up at you, he clinked his glass against yours and held it there. “To all of that. To one of the many, many holidays we’ll have together. To this moment right here, to us, to you.” He pauses and the strobe lights of the bar switch from dark blue to hot pink, and the way Mat stares at you in this moment makes your heart race inexplicably. “To how much I love you.”

He takes your breath away. Draws it right out of your lungs and you feel heady. It’s the first summer with Mat, the first I love you from him and it suddenly feels as if this bar is too small for the both of you. You love him, and he loves you too and the only thing you could imagine doing is jumping in his arms but there’s a table between you and sangria topped wine glasses in your hands, and he’s wearing a pristine white shirt that looks incredible against his tanned skinned and there’s a lot of people around (the majority significantly older than both your age and Mat’s combined) so you simply grin and carefully lean forward more, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips and even if your voice is low compared to the loud, cheesy country music blasting through hidden stereos, you know Mat catches on to that.

“I love you,” he says right back and before you pull away, he bumps his nose against yours gently, making you giggle.

You both take a sip of your drinks and you smack your lips together, content with the turn of the night.

You and Mat had been dating for a few months, but this was the first time the two of you will spend back to back nights and days together without needing to rush somewhere. Of course, a part of you was anxious about it - while it was easy to spend a few hours together now and then, maybe even the odd night together, it was entirely different being together pretty much all the time. There were habits and quirks you each had that might get in the way, but your worries were soon put to rest. You and Mat had wonderful chemistry together, easily able to spend your time together but also still enjoy each other’s company while doing separate activities. You didn’t want to rush into things and you made no move to do so, but it was ever so easy to imagine what living with Mat would be like. And sure, you were well aware of the fact that it wouldn’t always be sunshine and rainbows; the two of you would eventually transition out of this honeymoon-type period of your relationship, but something told you life would Mat would never bore you. It’d never make you wish for anything different.

“Give me a second,” Mat says and before you could ask him what he meant, he’s out of his seat and you follow him across the bar, a little confused.

He makes his way past the bar, past the pool tables and stops in front of what is undoubtedly a jukebox. Curious, you arch an eyebrow and watch as he fiddles with finding the right amount of change before inserting the coins in the slot. It takes him a while before he finds whatever song it is he wants and it takes enough time for him to make it back to your table before the jukebox and sound system registers the request. You don’t recognise the first few notes at all, much less the accompanying guitar strings but you don’t have time to search your memory for a title.

Mat stops by your side, holding a hand out to you. “Dance with me.” It’s more statement than question and under any circumstances, you may have felt a little awkward about doing this, but it’s the heat of the moment and your giddiness that pushes you to your feet, hand in Mat’s.

The two of you are beaten to an emptier area in the establishment by two other much older couples that were closer to it anyway, and you find that gives you a bit more of a boost also. Mat pulls you to him, wrapping one arm around your waist while holding on to your free hand while you hold on to his shoulder with the other. Your fingers lightly clench and unclench the soft material of his shirt, lowering your head a little and you smile against the back of your hand. It’s so painfully cheesy and there’s nowhere near enough other people dancing along to the song but you love it much more than you thought you ever would.

“Know what I’d invest all my money into?” He asks you suddenly.

You pull back a little, still swaying along with the song. “Cryptocurrency seems like a safe bet right now.”

Mat laughs, that big hearty laugh of his that makes your smile wider and when it passes, he presses a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Well, I’m glad one of us has a good head on their shoulders, but no.” He shakes his head, then laughs again, shorter and quieter as if recalling your response. “A time machine. I want to stop time right here and right now so that we can be as we are for a little while longer.”

“Cheesy,” you joke, despite the warmth coursing across your entire body and the jelly-like feeling forming in your knees. “But perfectly understandable.”

“Eventually, we wouldn’t need it, but it’d be nice to have one for tonight.”

“Eventually? How so?” You question, then narrow your eyes a little, the gesture playful. “You plan on getting bored of me and breaking up?”

“What!” He exclaims and pulls you in just that much closer. He lets go of your hand only so he could bring his to your chin, tipping your head back a little. “Never,” kiss, “say that,” kiss, “again.” The final kiss you share with him is a little longer and you take the liberty of bringing your hand to his chest, palm pressing against it to feel the thump of his heart against his ribcage momentarily. Then, slowly, you graze the tips of your nails along his exposed collarbone and peck his lips once more before pulling away. It’s then that the song’s name and artist comes to your mind, almost as an afterthought. From hidden speakers, Brett Young declares I couldn’t live life without you and Mat gives you a pointed stare. “Damn, he said it before I could.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” you assure him. “Either way, I think I prefer hearing it from you, Barzal.”

“I’m pretty sure I couldn’t live without you,” he recites and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. He sways you both in a more exaggerated manner that makes you cling to him more out of habit than necessity. You’ve known you’d trust Mat with anything, but each day, he seems to do something that makes that thought solidify more and more in your mind. The comfort and safety that brings wraps around you like a warm blanket.

Be it the hot weather, the somewhat stifling interior of the bar, the sips of sangria on an empty stomach, the euphoria of the moment or all things combined, you nod quickly. And from somewhere in the depths of your mind, the very bottom of your heart, you respond with, “I can get used to this day after day. So don’t let me go, baby.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispers, tone full of care and love and warmth. He gives you his promise without hesitation and you know it’s bound to stick.

Your phone buzzes once.

I’m downstairs. Need help with your bags?

You push up from the comfort of your couch and make one last round of your apartment to make sure you had everything you definitely needed from where it was placed.

I’m good. Will be down in a minute, you text back but don’t pocket your phone right away. Instead, you stare at the screen for a little while longer, half tempted to scroll through the thread of messages. They’d provide a stark timeline of when things started going wrong and you would probably be able to see exactly how things changed between the two of you from the moment you suggested a mere break wouldn’t do it. But doing that would be like breaking a streak you had going for sufficient time to earn a pat on your back. The journey of getting to a point where you were sufficiently okay with being in Mat’s presence without any other company was a long one and the last thing you needed was to recall how it once was.

You and Mat started out as friends after Elise introduced the two of you just a short while before he started his professional career with the Islanders. She talked about how the two of them met in school and how great of a guy he was; real down to earth, funny and incredibly ambitious - traits she also assigned to you, and therefore thought the two of you would get along great. She wasn’t wrong about it. You knew a little about hockey, going to games every now and then mostly whenever Elise dragged you along but you found that Mat made the game more enjoyable. He explained it to you in a manner that didn’t make you feel belittled or as if it should be something you already knew of, and didn’t mind explaining some things more than once. On the other hand, you introduced him to your own hobbies and the little world you created for yourself in a city as big and busy as New York. You showed him the more lowkey but homely establishments, including your favourite pizza place that - unbeknown to you at the time - would become yours and his, and even took him to a few student bars where you regularly beat him at pool while he showed off at darts. Occasionally, it felt weird to watch him unwind in such…normal places and ways while on other days, he shone on ice and was easily one of the best rookies emerging from one of the country’s most well known sports leagues. Yet despite that, you found that athlete Mat wasn’t all that different from Mat the person.

He never put a front and his genuine manner was refreshing to you, particularly during a time when you were still a college student and a good portion of the guys around were textbook frat boys. Being around Mat was comfortable and safe. You didn’t feel the need to speak a certain way or be a different person, and retrospectively, the way you felt towards him developed almost organically. You felt yourself gravitating towards him and were pleasantly surprised by the moments when he’d seek you out first. A day off here and a day off there until eventually, you found yourself spending much of your free time with him and vice-versa.

Falling in love with Mat was easy. Being without Mat was difficult. But, thankfully, not impossible apparently.

Convinced you packed everything you needed, made your way out with a duffle bag on your shoulder and a suitcase at your heels.

True to his word, Mat was parked in front of your place and as soon as you pushed open the building’s door, he looked up from his phone and made his way over to you. The last thing you needed was to make the journey any more awkward or difficult for the both of you, so you didn’t argue when he took the bags from you to stow them away in the trunk.

“Are you going across the country?” You ask, peeking into the trunk while he plays Tetris with the bags.

“What?” He questions, evidently distracted by the task at hand but straightens up when you delicately place a hand on his arm, pushing him to the side a little.

“You’d think you’re going across the country for like, two or three weeks rather than a couple of days,” you repeat. “Maybe put that smaller bag sideways? That might let the bigger suitcase fit.”

He follows your guidance and sure enough, that does the trick: the suitcases fit perfectly in the trunk and you grin to yourself, triumphant.

Mat steps back, closing the trunk and brushes his hands together. “Thanks,” he says and you nod, heading towards your seat in the front. He follows you inside just as you click in your seatbelt. “I don’t think it’ll take us more than two or three hours to get there if traffic’s as good as it was when I checked it a little while earlier. Got everything?”

“Everything important that is. Everything else, I’ll just worry about and pull my hair out when we get there,” you tell him and you can’t help feeling proud for being able to keep conversation light and as normal as you can.

After all, you’ve known life before Mat and you’re rediscovering it after him too.

Mat laughs ever so quiet, and from the corner of your eye, you catch him brushing his hand across his mouth though he’s a few seconds too slow in trying to mask his smile.

“I think I’ll need to fill up soon, but let me know if there’s anywhere else you want to stop along the way,” he tells you while pulling out of the parking spot.

You nod even if he probably might not see it and take the liberty to scroll through radio stations. Mat doesn’t seem to be against it, so you continue switching to them until, a little frustrating that nothing seems to work for you, you connect your phone to the car and play one of your playlists. A mix of upbeat pop and an assortment of viral tracks fill in the silence for a while, and the act of singing along in your head takes your mind away from how it almost feels as if you’re sitting on needles. It takes a conscious effort on your behalf to remind yourself to loosen your shoulders and stop fiddling too much with your hands, and you’re glad Mat seems to be plenty preoccupied with driving. Once upon a time, he would’ve immediately picked up on even the most mild of your discomforts and tried to do anything he could to alleviate them. You don’t know how much, if at all, Mat changed during the time you spent apart but you want to think that you no longer wear your heart on your sleeve as much and your emotions are much more guarded, especially in his presence.

Apparently, though, there’s only so much he can take with silence filled in by music because once he’s off busier streets, he leans in his seat more comfortably and you can tell he very briefly turns his head towards you. “Think they’ll like their wedding gift?”

You direct your gaze away from the flashing scenery outside to Mat. “Absolutely. Who wouldn’t like it? Trust me when I say Bali’s been a place Elise always wanted to visit and I can’t think of a better time than now,” you assure him.

“If they don’t, it’s on you,” he says and it takes you a beat longer to realise he’s just joking so you huff out a laugh, relaxing back in the seat.

“If they don’t, they can give one of the tickets to me and I’ll happily go there.” You cast a glare out at the scenery ahead, eyes narrowing upwards towards the overcast sky. “I don’t think summer will ever come at this rate. I’m starting to hate it here.”

“Doubt Baltimore was any better,” Mat points out.

“Hardly,” you sigh. “Maybe I’ll ask them to send me to Miami instead. That’d be much better.”

Mat clears his throat quickly, shifting a little. “So, are you planning on going back to Baltimore or... Why are you back?” You catch sight of the frown forming on his face, and he quickly shakes his head as if trying to rid the hint of accusation from his voice. “That sounded wrong, sorry. But just genuinely curious. I thought a permanent move was on the table?”

“It was. Still is, but they needed me back here to wrap up a project. It was a pretty bad move on their behalf to send me there before we had that wrapped up nice and neat, bow and all, but I guess…” You trail off, shrugging a shoulder. “Guess we’ll see what’s next after that. They do want me back there, though. It just depends how long it takes for things here to fall into place.”

“Fair enough.” Another pause, another moment for him to press his lips together in silent deliberation. He did that often, and you wonder if that remains a habit still. “Was it a promotion? I forgot, sorry.”

“All good,” you assure, brushing off the apology. “Not a promotion per se, but a sidestep with just a slightly bigger paycheck. The office there is a bit smaller than the New York one so maybe there’s a higher chance of getting promoted sooner, but I don’t want to jump the gun on that yet. How did things work out for you guys this season?”

The Islanders had a good season, making the playoffs but fell just short of making the semi-finals, you knew that. After all, you hadn’t removed the Islanders game and news alerts from your phone and you put that on your laziness. You wouldn’t shy away from admitting to him you still followed the team’s progression, but you preferred not to.

“Could’ve been better but there’s lots to learn from it,” Mat tells you and there’s a trace of excitement and determination in his voice. “Next season will be even better, I guarantee.”

It’s a staple Mat response, one he always gave if he felt a game didn’t end in their favour or he didn’t do as much as he thought he should have. Sometimes, it took him some time to accept it. Usually, it came to him after pushing himself in training, after going that extra step in the gym, after re-watching highlights or coach videos and always - always, you’d assure him that it takes a team to move forward, not a single person. Always, he’d kiss you and tell you he loves you and always, you’d spend those moments wrapped up in each other’s arms, more often than not with Mat’s head resting against your chest and your leg slung around his hip.

“Plenty of time to lift that cup, Barzal,” you assure him. “Sure, the sooner the better but there’s always a right time for everything.”

“I hope so,” he agrees pensively, and lingers on that thought.

You let him to it, directing your attention back to the view outside and only now and then picking up your phone either to switch songs or browse through a few applications. A part of you feels almost obliged to try and push for conversation but you avoid doing so. The last thing you need is to make it painfully awkward for the two of you and you figure Mat could always do that himself if he feels like it. So, you let your mind wander to better things - to the upcoming rehearsal and the wedding itself, to how good Elise will look and how Tito will be so proud to watch her walk the aisle towards him. You imagine their reaction to the gift you and Mat contributed towards and smiled to yourself, knowing it was a perfect pick for them both.

You don’t think about telling Elise you and Mat had lied to them. You don’t think about passing this hurdle - the final one before you two will become strangers to one another. You don’t think about how the next time you might both see each other again, you’ll both have such different lives that for a brief moment, the surprise of it will knock the air out of your lungs before you remember: that’s him without me, and this is me without him. And you won’t be the first or the last people to break up, but a part of you is certain what the two of you had was unique and could’ve been grand. So much grander.

You become more alert to your surroundings when he starts slowing the car and you notice you’re pulling up into a gas station. As much as space allows you, you stretch out a little and Mat stops right by one of the pumps.

“Want something for the road?” You ask him, unplugging your phone and taking your card from your bag.

“Hold on, I’ll come with you,” Mat tells you and it doesn’t take long for the refill to happen before you both walk into the station’s store, beelining for the snack aisles even if you have only two hours or so until you reach your destination.

“Oh gosh, those are going to be a nightmare to clean up if you spill any in the car,” you groan quietly as he browses through the variety of Nerds flavours.

“But they’re so good though,” he shoots back and flashes a smile that is nothing short of sly when he picks up two boxes instead of one.

“Yeah, until the flavour runs out literally two seconds after you put them in your mouth. I mean, enjoy that but I’m different,” you boast and pick up a bag of sour candy.

“You just like obliterating your taste buds.”

He’s not wrong. Sour candy and spicy foods are your guilty pleasures, and have been for the longest time. You don’t try to look into how easily he recalls that because, you tell yourself, there’s nothing to look into. It’s a mere fact that anyone who knows you would easily recite.

“You’re wrong and you know it, but admitting that is difficult so it’s fine, Barzal. No hard feelings,” you throw back, snickering as you head over to the fridges for a bottle of cold water. Instinctively, you grab another for him and instinctively, he takes your candy and the water to pay for them but you still tag along with him in the queue.

“No shot. I like some spice but to the point where I literally can’t taste anything else? Hey, remember that one time when you made something… Can’t remember what it was but it was so…” He purses his lips and you laugh because yes, yes you remember it so clearly.

“So good you ended up crying over it?” You offer.

“More like, I wasn’t crying but it was so fucking spicy, Y/N, holy.”

“You survived though, didn’t you?”

“I only did because there isn’t a thing you do I don’t like,” he says and then, seems to catch himself but a second too late. “Didn’t like,” he corrects quietly but the damage is done.

You swallow uncomfortably, directing your gaze away from him but don’t hesitate to nod towards the outside. “I’ll head over to the car. I’ll text Elise to tell her we’re close.”

“Y/N—“

But you’re already taking steps towards the exit and out of ear shot, making a beeline for the car. Your heart thumps rapidly and uncomfortable in your chest and find that pressing a palm to your left side doesn’t make it any better. You know it’s an innocent mistake and there are some habits that die hard, but the way he phrased it triggered your fight or flight instinct instantaneously and despite yourself, you leaned towards the latter. You enter the car and take the time to compose yourself as much as you could. The last thing you need is to have a conversation with Mat about this because you didn’t want to have it - it shouldn’t happen for the sake of avoiding making the situation even more uncomfortable. It was an innocent slip up, no doubt, and you should’ve braced yourself to speak of Mat in present tense as opposed to past tense in the presence of others but it comes to you harder than imagined.

It’s odd how you both once knew so much about each other, everything even, and now the two of you are reduced to dancing around all that and making conscious efforts to keep your conversations as short and banal as possible.

You try and busy yourself with formulating a message to Ellie, one that’s long enough to try and make you seem as busy as possible by the time Mat returns to the car, but every line you wrote, every mini paragraph going into dull details about the trip and where you guys currently are seemed like an overthrow. So, you delete that also and simply text her an OTW just as Mat sets the sweets on the centre console and the bottles in the cup holders.

He doesn’t start the engine immediately and your mood quickly switches to frustration. Sure, you hadn’t handled it in the best way possible but trying to have a conversation about it wouldn’t make it any better. Or at least, it’s just something you didn’t want to have to think about for the remainder of the journey.

But he does just that, because that is what Mat always did: he talked with you.

“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” he begins, “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. It’s force of habit more than anything else.”

“It’s whatever, Mat, so just move past it. I did, simple as that,” you tell him neutrally.

There’s something in that response he must have not liked because you pick up on his small huff and shortly after, the car starts and you’re both on the road again. This time, with silence between you and an atmosphere so heavy it makes you wish you weren’t speeding down an Interstate just so you could open the window and let some of the air in.

The hotel the wedding will be held at lies in front of you, sprawling and secluded and perfect for an event like this. Tito is already at the entrance and when he spots Mat’s car, he waves quickly while Mat quickly flashes the headlights before pulling into an available parking spot.

“There they are!” Tito says by way of greeting and you walk right into his outstretched arms, hugging him. “Can’t believe so much time passed since we last saw each other. What is it, two months? Three?”

“Three,” you confirm once you pull away so that Mat could hug him also. “It’s good to see you too. Where’s Elise?”

“She wanted to check on some small details and said she’ll meet up with you guys in a bit. So here I am, the welcoming committee,” Tito explained and when he and Mat stepped apart, he reached out to give you another short hug which you accepted. “So how was Baltimore? Don’t suppose you liked it all that much if you’re back so soon. This guy was happy about it,” Tito adds, nodding his head towards Mat who was already busy emptying the trunk.

You press your lips together, displaying a small smile. “Baltimore wasn’t too bad but they missed me here, apparently. Can’t complete a damn thing without my two cents so here I am for now.”

Tito frowns, but the expression is very brief. “For now? We’ll need to talk more about that later so Barzy doesn’t mope around as much as he did back then.”

You throw a quick glance towards Mat but he’s looking away towards whatever interesting spot on the ground he found, pointedly ignoring you. “I’ll have a word with him about it later,” you tell Tito lightly and together, the three of you make your way inside, towards the reception.

“I think Elise is in the room at the end of the corridor if you want to say hi,” Tito informs you and you jump at the opportunity.

You follow the corridor, making a right turn and continuing along the dimly lit hallway leading to what the signs informed you to be Conference Room 1. The door is slightly ajar and you begin picking up on the buzz of activity coming from within and soon enough, you’re face to face with a spacey room boasting an array of flowers and various arrangements tastefully decorating tables and drooping down from the ceiling. No doubt, the effect will be lovely during the night when colourful neon lights can be turned on. You spot Elise easily: she’s in the midst of the room with what is undoubtedly the scrapbook of ideas she’d been carefully putting together since Tito asked her to marry him. Outwardly, she’s all smiles and laughter but you can imagine the amount of effort and planning putting all of this together and working with planners takes.

When she spots you, she squeals in excitement, sets her book down and dashes across the room to engulf you in a hug, making you stumble a few steps back.

You burst into laughter and wrap your arms around her, squeezing her with just enough force to try and communicate how much you missed her but not so that it was uncomfortable.

“I missed you! You’re here!” She exclaims, stepping back to look at you in disbelief then hugging you again. “Oh my gosh, I’m so happy you’re here! Where’s Mat? Is he here too?”

“Of course he is,” you assure her with a laugh. “I missed you too.” You throw a curious glance towards the room over her shoulder, nodding your head towards it. “How’s it going? Need me to take over for a bit?”

“Maybe later. Definitely later. Come on.” She wraps an arm around yours and leads the way out of the room, undoubtedly back to the reception area where you left Mat and Tito. “Please tell me Baltimore is off the table. FaceTime is fine, sure, but it’s not great, you know? I need the real deal next to me. Besides, I’m not sure if you heard, but Mat wasn’t Mat without you.”

“So I heard, but forget about us!” You said in a desperate attempt to try and steer attention away from the subject. “Tell me about how everything’s going. Are you still nervous about it? Because trust me, Elise - you have absolutely nothing to be nervous of. What I’ve heard of so far and what I’ve seen will make it the absolute best day, surely.”

“Of course I’m nervous,” she tells you and to demonstrate, she holds her free hand in front of you and sure enough, there’s just a slight tremble to it. “Please lend me some of those nerves of steel of yours, Y/N, I’d do anything to have even a small percentage of them right now.”

“Pft, as if. Those are all show, trust me.”

“I’ll take even that. Oh, Mat!” She greets as soon as the two of you reach the reception area and Elise spots Mat.

Much like you and Tito, they hug and when she steps back, she immediately stands next to Tito who doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. They exchange a quick kiss and you smile at the happiness and bliss they’re clearly surrounded by.

It’s the slight pressure on your lower back that makes you jolt a little on the spot and it’s then you realise Mat had gently placed his hand there to encourage you a little closer. It takes effort on your behalf to follow his guidance but you move towards him, though you wish you could physically wince at how undoubtedly stiff the two of you must look. Or hopefully, not greatly so because neither Tito nor Elise comment on it or shoot you any funny looks as the four of you engage in brief conversation, mainly surrounding the trip here and any other guests they expect to receive today.

You don’t hang around much, though. Elise’s phone begins buzzing incessantly and she’s whisked away by the message received, but not before she fixes you with a pointed stare and demands the two of you have drinks later in the evening. Tito follows her also, even if he informs you and Mat that he feels as if he’s running around in the right places only because of Elise and the wedding planners, but you encourage him on by joking he could maybe turn a few candles on the tables this way or that for some extra oomph.

“I can’t imagine how she does it,” you admit to Mat once the elevator doors slide shut soundlessly and the car begins moving upwards to your floor.

“Pretty sure it’s not that big of a deal to her, given what all this is leading to,” Mat tells you and you detect a hint of detachment in his voice.

You don’t welcome it, of course you don’t, but you choose to not point that out to him. The last thing you want is an argument to break out the relatively okay mood the two of you have managed to hold, recent events that could be erased from memory aside. Instead, you simply stand back quietly, eyes glued on the red digital numbers aside until they come to a halt on the ninth floor where the elevator stops and you’re both left in a silent, dimly lit hallway.

Mat has the key to the apartment Elise told you the two of you would be in and just before tapping in, he hands you your own copy of it. Up until this very moment, you hadn’t thought very much of the overnight arrangements. You were pretty sure you meant to ask Elise a bit more about them at some point but both your attention and hers were pulled in different directions and here you were, stepping into your place for the next couple of nights, Mat trailing a little behind you.

You stop, arms folding across your chest and you feel Mat stop somewhere close behind you, looking into one room.

“I didn’t think this through,” you state neutrally.

Ahead of you lay only one bed.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #*#the synopsis sucks but i'm bad at short summaries lol #i had this idea since i first joined hockeyblr and i'm happy to have finally found the motivation to write it #anyway i have a vague idea for some scenes #and there will probably be three MAYBE four parts to it

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adezahnae · 3 years

Text

While We’re on a Little Trip (Part 6)

A/N: IM LATE AS FUCK WITH THIS CHAPTER BUT HERE IT IS!! DON’T KILL ME😭😭

Warnings: Smut, flashback, angst, mentions of drugs, prostitution, heartbreaking, murder, etc....

Tagged People: @ahgasearmyfan @whoreforshuaaa @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @janedukiesworld @staynctzen127 @keeach @nanascupid @winwiniee @stormxiii05 @winkoes

Your POV

I laid there, silently crying as I replayed the event in my head. I kept feeling the slap to my cheek each time he ran his hand over my hair. I flinched away from him when I felt a small tug on my hair. “I’m sorry...” He mumbled. I sniffed and nodded my head letting him know that it was okay.

He breathed out and pulled me closer to him. I felt stiff in his arms now. The fact that he put his hands on me in such a harsh way it ruined me. I could still smell the stench of the weed he was smoking. There was so many questions running. Too many, so I want some fucking answers. “Who is she?” I asked. “Y/n-“ “I want to know, who the fuck is Alexa!?” I yelled sitting up crying.

He sat up with me and pulled me towards him. “FUCKING TELL ME! IM SICK OF YOU AVOIDING THIS!!” I yelled. He sighed in defeat. “Okay..come here.” He said. I looked at him and turned in his direction. “Alexa is, your sister....” He said. I felt my breathing stop.“What?! N-No...That’s not true...you got her pregnant with a child?! I have no sister!” I denied. “Alexa was before Mia and you.” He said.

“...H-How did you meet her?” I asked. “Okay...it was five years ago..I was at a club with my workers.” He said.

Flashback...

Jaehyun’s POV

I got out of my car and walked up to the club with my men behind me and few of my workers. The bodyguard instantly let me through with my men and smiled. “Good evening, Mr. Jung sir..” He said. I nodded in his direction and continued to walked. I got in and I smiled, watching everyone dance on one another and drink.

I walked to the VIP section and sat there, watching everyone from a distance. One of my customers came up to me. “Jae! Man...I need another hit..” He said. “What?” I asked, lighting a cigarette. “I need some more!” He said. I cocked my eyebrows and leaned forward. “I gave you two packs three days ago.” I said. He shook his head nervously laughing. “N-No you didn’t!” He said. I blew out the smoke leaning back in my chair.

“Yes I did. Where’s my money for those two packs?” I asked. He sighed. “Look, I will get your money tomorrow! I promise!” He said. I jolted up from my seat and grabbed his shirt. All of my men pulled out their guns, pointing to him. “You said yesterday. Look you junky fuck, I don’t play about my goddamn money. I want my shit now. Now where is it?” I growled. He shook in my grip, not responding. I furrowed my eyebrows and pushed him in the face.

“ANSWER ME WHEN IM TALKING DAMN IT!” I yelled. “I don’t...have the money...” He admitted. I let his shirt go and let out a chuckle. I kicked his stomach and stomped his head. He yelled out in pain as I continued to beat him. “Now you know what that means right?” I asked.

He shook his head, coughing. “Mike, take him out back. I don’t need a mess on my outfit.” I said sitting down in my chair again. The guy gasped and shook his head. I took a puff of my cigarette and watched them carry his outside the club.

I turned back around and seen a beautiful girl. I watched her as she smiled and swayed her hips to the music. I seen her look over at me with a seductive eye. I smirked and motioned her to come to me. She did so, strutting over to me. She made it to the VIP and she sat down beside me.

“Hello there, pretty..” I said. She giggled and replied. “Hey there, sexy..” I smirked. “Why don’t you come and sit down with me, hm?” I asked. She did so and scooted towards me. I gave her a glass and poured champagne in it. “Thank you.” She said sipping from it. I took a glass for myself and leaned back, putting my hand over the the back of the chair where she sat.

“Are you alone?” I asked, referring to a man. “Yeah, friends forced me out. I’m happy that came though. I met an attractive guy like you.” She said. I chuckled and drunk from my glass. “How nice of you to say..” I replied. “What’s your name?” She asked.

“Jae. And yours is?” I asked. She smiled. “Alexa.” She said. I took her hand and gave her a kiss. “Nice to meet you miss Alexa.” I said. She blushed. “You look adorable like that, I wish I could see you do it all the time.” I said, brushing my thumb over her cheek. I took the bottle of champagne. “You want another glass or do you wanna go?” I asked.

She kicked off her heels and leaned closer to me. “I think, I’m gonna want another glass. You’re too attractive to pass up.” She said holding her glass out. I poured her a glass and sat the bottle down. “I have to say, I like the way you demand power from others and how you get your respect. It’s sexy..” Alexa said.

I chuckled and took my glass, sipping the wine from it. “I have my ways, beautiful. You like bad men like me?” I joked. “I heard bad men give you a feeling you’ve never felt before..” Alexa said. “Hm,” I sat my glass down and brushed her hair behind her ear. “You wanna test that rumor, Princess?” I asked. She bit her lip as she looked at me.

- -

“Ohh fuck Jae...” Alexa moaned in my ear. I groaned and lifted her leg up, putting it over my shoulder. “Shit, you’re so wet..” I mumble. She moaned and wrapped her other leg around my waist. I smirked and lifted her from the bed, taking her to the wall of my bedroom and slammed her against it, ramming into her again.

Her hands went to my back and scratched down it, making me bit my lip. “Fuck, baby.” I whispered. She threw her head back against the wall, groaning. “Fuck yeahhh!! Oh my god, I’m gonna cum.” She moaned. I angled my hips to get a better angle.

She gasped and gripped on me hard. “Right there! Ahh shit! Yess!!” She exclaimed. Found her spot. As she clenched around me, I felt myself coming close as well. I placed my hands against the wall, ramming harder and harder into her. “Are you gonna cum, huh slut? You gonna squirt on this dick again?” I asked her with a smirk. She nodded her head.

I tsked. “I can’t fucking hear that. Say it..” I said. She groaned out. “DADDY IM CUMMING! AHHH MY GODDD!!!” She cried. I grunted as I came in the condom as well as she squirted. I brought her back to my bed and I pulled out quickly and rubbed my hand over her clit, making her squirt more. She cried out as she made a mess on my rug. I smirked and kissed her. “Good fucking girl..” I praised.

Her body calmed down and she weakly smiled. “That’s...oh my god..” She said. I smirked and lifted her up to her feet and helped her to my bathroom. I turned the shower on for her and let her get in. “Aren’t you gonna join me?” She asked. I got in the shower with her. “I guess I will..” I said.

- -

We were both in bed, sleeping. I felt her hand reach over me and go to my wallet, beside me. I furrowed my eyebrows and grabbed her hand. I heard her gasp and I opened my eyes. “You’re a hooker?” I asked her straight forward. “No...” she mumbled. I turned to her. “Then why are you going in my wallet?” I asked.

“I need the money...” She said. I cocked my eyebrow. “For..?” She bit on her lip in nervousness and rushed out my bed. I grabbed her by the arm to stop her from leaving. “No. Tell me why do you need it and maybe I’ll give it to you.” I said. A tear rolled down her face. “My boss will kill me..” She said.

“Who is your boss?” I asked sitting her down and sitting beside her. “I can’t say..” She said. “Yes you can, tell me..” I said, placing my hand on her cheek to calm her. “His name is King. He claims to be the King of all gangs. He runs me as a prostitute to take money from gang leaders. He’s also I guess my pimp or whatever he calls himself when talking to me. He told me if I didn’t get his money in two hours, I’m gonna be dead.” She explained.

I chuckled and got up from my seat beside her. I went to my closet and pulled out my sweatpants and a hoodie of mine. I threw it to her. “Put that on.” I said going to the closet. I pulled out one of my suits and began to dress. “Where are we going?” She asked from the room. I came back, buttoning up my shirt. “We’re going to your boss.” I said. “You look...good..” She said. I smirked.

“Thank you very much.” I said pulling on my jacket, finishing the suit. “HAECHAN!” I called making her jump. “Calm down.” I said. He came in the door. “Yes sir?” He asked wiping his face, trying to remove the red lipstick on his lips. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked him up and down. “Are you making out with a girl?” I asked. He nervously darted his eyes from me.

“Sorry sir..” He nervously laughed. I sighed and pinched my eyes, sighing. “Johnny!” I called. “Yes sir?” He asked. “Go and get the car ready. I have to make a trip.” I said. He nodded and walked away. “Come on.” I said to her. She followed behind me. “What are you going to do to him?” She asked. “Just gonna talk...” I said.

We made it in the car and I turned to Taeil. “Find King...who?” I asked Alexa. “King Chu.” She said. “Yes. Find his location.” I said. He typed in the name of the hacking computer. We waited for the process and it finally popped up. “He’s in a warehouse near the Seoul Hotel.” Taeil said. I patted his back. “Thank you. Keep him tracked for me.” I said. “Yes sir.” He replied.

“Jungwoo, go ahead and drive.” I said sitting back in my seat. “Yes sir.” He said starting the car.

- -

We made it to the location. “Slowly pull up.” I said. He did so and stopped the car. I breathed out. “Johnny, Taeyong, Mark, Yuta with me. You three keep a look out for any of his men who approaches the warehouse. Take them down when you see them.” I ordered and opened the door. “Yes sir.” They said. I made my way to Alexa’s side and helped her out the car.

I walked to the door and everyone kicked the door open. Johnny and Yuta rushed over to King and grabbed him, putting him on his knees in front of me. Mark and Taeyong pointed their guns at him. “Who the fuck are you?! Hey-“ I nodded for Johnny to hit him in his head with a gun to shut him up. “Don’t even try to call anyone. They will all be dead in seconds. I have ten men in cars each, surrounding your warehouse and three by the door. And trust me, all they need is snap of a finger to blow this shit up with you in it.” I said.

He glanced at Alexa. “Why do you have her? She’s useless..” he scoffed. I landed a punch to his face, making his mouth bleed. “Belittle her again I will fucking kill you.” I growled. He laughed. “You fell in love with her after a few hours and now you’re here, beating me up like you own the damn world? Huh! How pathetic. I don’t fucking know you.” He spat. “Well how about we greet each other then. What’s you’re name?” I asked, knowing the answer. “It’s King. And how about yours you wanna be fancy thug?” He scoffed. I smirked. “It’s Jae..” I said.

His head snapped in my direction. “Fuck...” He whispered. “Surprise, surprise...” I said. “Look....I’ll give you all you want! I-I didn’t mean to disrespect you in anyway!! I just...didn’t know it was actually you standing in front of me. I-I worship you!” He ranted in fear. “To hell with all of that bullshit. You try and claim that you are the boss of all gangs, huh?” I asked. “Sir, please...” He said. I gripped his hair.

“At this rate, you’re one of my bitches.” I growled. “Sir...I mean no disrespect to you...Do you want Alexa? I-I’ll give her to you! She’s free! Take her!” He said. I grabbed Yuta’s gun from his waist and slapped him with it. “Does it look like I’m here for me to take her!?” I yelled. He whimpered in pain. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, just let me go! I’ll give everything I own to you!” He cried. “I already own everything you have, including you! As I said, you are one of my bitches.” I spat.

“How about I run you like you run Alexa huh?” I asked. “Sir..what is your point in this?” He asked. I hit him again with the gun, making him cry out in pain more. “THE FUCKING POINT IS, WHY ARE TREATING HER LIKE A DAMN PROSTITUTE!?” I yelled. “It’s how I also get money! I’m sorry I’ll never do it again! I’ll never take your name again and I will treat her right! Just one more chance sir!!” He begged and cried. “No..One thing about me is that I don’t give second chances to fakes like you. I should fucking kill you.” I said.

He panicked. “Sir! Please! I-I’ll do anything!!” He said. “Fuck that. Tie him up.” I said, taking off my jacket. Yuta and Johnny lifted him to his feet and took the rope they had. They tied his hands up and dragged him to a pole, hanging the loose end there so he could hang. I walked over to him and took his gun and knife. I took the knife and stabbed it in his side. He screamed out in pain. “Sir please!! Stop this!” He cried. “Beg for it, bitch.” I growled.

“Sir..please! I admit my mistakes and I will never do it again!!” He cried. I took the knife and cut his face. “I don’t think that was convincing enough. I said, beg for it Bitch..” I growled grabbing his chin, forcing him to look at me. “I’m sorry sir...please! Please let me go! Sir, I’ll obey your orders only! No one else’s and not even my own! I won’t tell people how you look or anything, just pleaseeee let me go!!” He cried out. I slit his chest, legs, arms, and face again.

“I don’t think I’m pleased bitch. Do something to make me happy.” I said standing back. “I can’t...My lord, My Boss, My Master. I won’t do anything like this again!!” He said. “Master is a very intriguing name to call me...hm. Say it again.” I smirked. “Master! My Master!” He yelled. “Now who’s bitch are you?” I asked. “I’m my Master’s bitch!” He cried.

I smirked. “Good, now you have one more thing to do for me.” I said setting the knife down. “Yes?” He asked. “Take your beating like a good bitch. Boys, beat him.” I said walking away. They all rushed over and began to beat him with everything they had. I sat in his chair and watched. I looked over to Alexa watching in fear. “Come here.” I said calmly. She walked over to me hesitantly. I pulled her into a hug. “Its alright. Really.” I said. She looked in my eyes and nodded. I smiled and turned to the guys.

“Stop.” They all pulled away from his aching body. “Alexa, do you want to say anything to him?” I asked. “No...kill him..I hate him..” She mumbled against my shirt. “Okay..Mark. Taeyong. Shoot.” I said. King began to panic and cried and scream. “No! No please! I’m sorry!” He cried. Taeyong and Mark cocked their guns back and shoot him 27 times.

They left his body hanging, dripping of blood. I grabbed my jacket and put it on. “Let’s go.” I said. Everyone followed out after me and I took Alexa by the hand. “No one is gonna hurt you anymore. You’re all safe.” I said. “But..I have no where to go! My mom kicked me out the house!” She cried. “You will live with me. We’ll take care of you. That’s honesty.” I said. She fell to her knees and hugged my legs. “Thank you! I need this!” She cried. “Of course...” I said. There was something about this girl that I love...I don’t know what it is...

Your POV

“You mean to tell me...that you are a..a gang lord?” I asked hurt. He sighed. “Yes..but that’s all behind me now..” He said moving towards me. I avoided his touch. “No...I need some time..this is...” I said getting off the bed. “Y/n..don’t leave me. I really need you..you’re the one person who changed my life for the best. I can’t live without you. You just can’t leave me. There’s not a second in my life that I don’t hope and wish that my past will come up to you and my daughter. I hate my old life. My dreams, every night...is that I get murdered or you get killed by some random thug off the street who hated me, and my daughter gets shot in her head. please...Y/n I’m at my breaking point right now..I can’t do this alone. I think I might go crazy if you leave me. D-Don’t leave me..”

He began to cry and I hesitantly went to him. I pulled him in my arms and hugged him. “It’s okay..it’s alright..I promise..” I said. He grabbed onto my body as if it was the last time he would hold me again. “Y/n, I mean it..if you leave, I will snap. I won’t be myself anymore..I feel myself breaking. The old me is trying to force its way out..” He said. I froze. Those words sent chills though my body. I felt..scared of him..he laid us down on the bed and he tugged my hair behind my ear. “Don’t leave..” He warned. I shook my head. “I won’t.” I mumbled. He kissed my lips and pulled my body close to him.

I felt his breathing even out as he fell back asleep. I still had so many questions, but one lingered the most. “What will happen if I actually left?” My body was already afraid, my mental state was ruined and I feared nothing but him. My heart was yelling for me to stay but..my mind and body said different. I just needed some time alone. I slipped out of his grip and went to the bathroom.

I looked up in the mirror to see the black eye he gave me. I seen the red bruises he left on my body and I could still see the grip marks on my neck along with hickies. I shed a tear as the moments replayed again. “BITCH!” Slap. I flinched at the memory and made my mind up of what I needed to do.

I walked back out the bathroom and grabbed my robe. I took a duffle bag and packed everything I needed in there. I threw it over my shoulder and peeked over at him to see him sound asleep. My heart ached and cried as I looked at him. Am I really about to leave the man I care for and love? I have to...

I quietly walked out of the room and to Lia’s, packing all her outfits and toys and cup. I took her bag and picked her up carefully. She mumbled in her sleep. “Mommy..” She said. “Shh...You and mommy are going somewhere..” I said. “Where are we going? Where’s Daddy?” She asked as I walked out of her bedroom with her blanket.

“Shh, daddy can’t go right now. He’s sleeping. Just go back to sleep.” I said. She hummed and fell asleep. I made it to the door and gripped the door knob. I looked back to the bedroom he was in and I closed my eyes. I breathed out and opened the door, leaving him behind...

#jaehyun smut #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun ff #jaehyun nct #nct 127 smut #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 ff #nct 127 #nct smut #nct x reader #nct ff #nct

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

trivia love | knj

⇥ pairing: kim namjoon x reader

⇥ genre: non-idol au with fluff and smut

⇥ summary: in which the reader and namjoon become ridiculously attracted to each other over weekly late night trivia sessions

⇥ word count: 5.4k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, terrible trivia team names, namjoon being devastating, low-key exhibitionism, smut in a bar bathroom, oral (f receiving), sub!joon, switch!reader, everyone being nerdy af

Weekly trivia used to be so fun. Your team - The Multiple Scoregasms - used to demolish the competition with ease. You used to be able to think so clearly and answer so correctly. You used to revel in the free drinks earned with your $20 bar credit winnings.

Keywords: used to

For the last two Thursdays, not only had your team lost miserably, you seemed to have lost all recollection past your own name.

The reason? Team Text Us, We're Single.

First of all, their team name was highly deceptive. There was no way that all seven of those beautiful team members were single. It was absolutely ludicrous.

Second of all, only one member of the group seemed to even take trivia seriously. And they still won. Twice.

And last of all, you were high-key attracted to said member. You sighed, thinking back to simpler times before you first saw him two Thursdays ago…

The first thing you saw when you walked into Queenie’s Bar was a squad of middle-aged men debating the merits of Draco Malfoy’s redemption arc.

And the second? Just the cutest smiling boy you’d ever seen in the entirety of your existence. He was tall and deliciously tan, with cute dimples that surfaced suddenly when he smiled at the bartender in thanks.

As you stood in the archway of the bar gaping at this dimpled god, you got jostled from behind by your friend Olivia. “What’s the hold up? Go claim our usual table, (y/n)! I’ll get the drinks.”

You snapped out of your reverie. Cute boy or not, he was likely to be part of tonight’s competition; and, therefore, you needed to annihilate him accordingly.

Nodding inwardly, you stalked past the men who now had moved on from Draco to a heated argument surrounding house-elves and their rights.  “Hermione just dropped her whole campaign! S.P.E.W. was never mentioned again!” One man thrust his hand through his thinning hair in exasperation, “God, did the campaign buttons mean nothing?”

You cracked a smile as you settled into your usual table in the middle of the crowded bar. You loved Thursday night trivia with everything you had.

Thursdays brought in an eclectic sort of crowd to Queenie’s. The groups scattered throughout the bar represented everyone from middle aged Potterheads to skulking e-boys to nerdy young adults (READ: you) and - apparently - to models (READ: Dimples).

You spotted your roommate Jordan and your friend Marlene hurrying through the door and raised a hand to wave them down. Marlene noticed you first and yelled, “Yo, (y/n)!”

Typically, you would have been embarrassed by this behavior, but it happened each week without fail. So, you just gave a half-assed salute.

The only thing that Marlene, the only extrovert in your circle of friends, loved more than being the center of attention was forcing the rest of you into the spotlight with her.

Her reasoning? Something about comfort zones and shit. Your reasoning? Pure evil.

Jordan rolled his eyes at you and grabbed Marlene, dragging her over to your table. “She needs to be stopped,” Jordan said in lieu of a greeting, “She’s a menace to introverts everywhere.”

“Puh-lease,” Marlene plopped into her seat dramatically, “Y’all love me. Besides, if you got rid of me, who would do speed trivia rounds for you?”

You and Jordan exchanged a panicked look at the mere thought of being put on the spot in front of a large crowd. “You make a convincing argument,” you sighed, “I guess we’ll keep you.”

“Well,” Marlene concentrated on something over your shoulder, “I might leave voluntarily if other teams are out here looking like that.”

You turned, seeking out the team in question, and locked eyes with Dimples. He blushed furiously and ducked his head, blonde hair falling to cover his eyes. His friend to his left, equally as attractive, gave Dimples a weird look and shoved his shoulder. You whipped back around before you got caught staring - again.

“What the fuck?” Jordan whispers-yelled across the table to you, “Do you know that boy, (y/n)?”

“No,” you choked out, already halfway to whipped over someone you’d never even met.

“Well, damn,” Olivia finally arrived, somehow successfully holding four drinks, “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing,” Marlene smirked, “Just a cute boy thirsting over (y/n) from afar.”

“He is not thirsting!” Your disclaimer went by unacknowledged.

“Oooh, we love a thirsty boy,” Olivia slid into her seat next to you and turned around to assess the crowd, “Shit. Which one is he? All the boys at that table are hot.”

“The one with the dimples,” you automatically answered, your mind replaying his squinty-eyed smile in full HD.

“Whoa, hold on a minute,” Marlene whipped out her pen and notepad like she was about to take notes, “Now, how do you know he has dimples?”

“Uh,” you sank low in your seat, “A good guess?”

“Nope, try again,” Jordan cackled, “You twirl your hair when you’re lying, bitch.”

Goddamnit. You released your traitorous hand from your hair immediately. “Fine, because I saw him smiling when I arrived, okay?”

“Interesting,” Marlene scribbled gibberish on her notepad, “And how do you feel about that?”

Now, two long weeks later, you still had no idea how to answer that question. However, you did know that you longed to talk with him for hours and absorb the knowledge he seemed to hold in every crevice of his brain. You did know that a darker part of you wanted to see him kneeling before you, completely at your mercy. You did know that his thighs were distracting, to the point where you accidentally dumped your entire beer down your shirt because you were too gaping at the way he leaned over the bar to order drinks.

And, unfortunately, you did know that he seemed to be equally distracted by you. This bit of knowledge came via your friends; and, therefore, you were in full denial.

“Question nine,” the bartender-turned-announcer cleared her throat, jolting you from your inner thoughts. “Who wrote 1818’s Frankenstein?”

“Mary Shelley!” You whispered across the table to Jordan, who then scrawled the name onto your team’s answer sheet. Satisfied, you shot a furtive glance around the bar and frowned as the surrounding teams all seemed to be confident in their answers as well. Your gaze strategically skipped past the table in the back section of the bar before returning to face your teammates.

From her seat next to Jordan, Marlene spotted something in the very direction you had been avoiding and giggled, “Dimples is staring. Bottoms up, fam.”

“Again?” Olivia rolled her eyes and drank from her dwindling gin and tonic. “He just looked at her, like, thirty seconds ago!”

Your eyes swung to Jordan as he attempted to covertly take a sip of his vodka cranberry.

“Please tell me you all aren’t drinking every time he looks over here,” you groaned, crossing your arms, “How are you even sure that he's looking at me?”

“Maybe because his eyes were glued to your ass when you walked by his table earlier on the way to the bathroom,” Olivia cackled, “I mean, I can’t blame the guy. Those jeans really do make you look thick.”

“And that’s ‘thick’ with at least three C’s and possibly a Q,” Marlene added, shooting you a thumbs up and nod of approval.

Jordan arched an eyebrow slyly, sipped his mixed drink, and drawled,“Well, why do you think she wore them?”

That snake!

“Top ten anime betrayals,” you whispered, eyes wide in the wake of being exposed.

Marlene and Olivia gasped in unison and turned towards you. Olivia hissed, “You bitch. Have you been holding out on us? Have you been seducing him?”

“Question ten,” the announcement blared from the bar’s speakers, saving you briefly from the brewing interrogation you felt was headed your way. “What novel begins with the words 'Call me Ishmael’?”

“Moby Dick,” Marlene answered, “Now, back to the matter at hand. I cannot believe you didn’t tell us this crucial information. We could have been scheming together if we knew you liked him.”

“Like him?!” Your shriek drew the attention of the neighboring table, and you shot them a sheepish smile. When they finally looked away, you immediately reverted back to your murderous state, “I don’t even know his name! And when have you been scheming?”

“Fine,” Jordan acquiesced, stirring his paper straw around his drink, “Maybe you don’t like him yet, but you definitely want to sit on his dick. Am I right or am I right?”

Gleefully, Marlene and Olivia faced you with fierce looks of anticipation.

“Fine,” you sniffed, trying to scrape your shredded dignity off the floor, “Yes, I want to sit on his dick. Is that so wrong?”

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Olivia rubbed her palms together, grinning deviously, "I mean, we already know he's into you. Why can't you just say something to him?"

You looked at her like she had just spoken Latin backwards, "Have you seen him? He’s so sweet. I could ruin him.”

“I don’t think he’d even mind though,” Marlene sighed, gazing over at the boy in question.

Jordan snorted as you buried your head in your hands and audibly prayed for anyone out there to take pity on you.

"We're moving on to our next category, folks," the bar's sound system crackled to life, answering your prayers, "Harry Potter."

"Oh, fuck yeah," You and Marlene - resident Harry Potter dweebs - exchanged high fives. Finally, a category you could probably win with your mind functioning on minimal capacity.

"Question eleven: In the Goblet of Fire, who poses as Mad-Eye Moody, Harry's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"

"Barty Crouch," you and Marlene said, pausing for dramatic effect, "Junior."

You cracked up as Jordan and Olivia shook their heads. "I question our friendship every damn day," Olivia joked, gazing off into the metaphorical distance - aka at the wall.

"You love us, bitch-ass," Marlene aimed a kick in Olivia’s direction under the table.

You grinned at their antics and went to take a sip from your beer, only to discover it empty. "Another round?" You ask your friends, standing to head over to the bar.

"Yes, please," Jordan groaned, "Anything to make it through these next four questions."

"Anyone - besides Jordan - want another round?" You revised your original statement aloud.

"Wow, have I mentioned I love Harry Potter lately? Like, yes, ten points to Hogwarts, bitch," Olivia thrust her empty glass in the air.

"That's not even how House Points work, Liv," Marlene sighed, "Solid B- for effort."

You turned to leave. "Wait!" Jordan drew your attention back to your group, "Stick your ass out when you order. He'll be watching." He shot a quick glance in He Who Shall Not Be Named (Because You Don't Know It)'s direction. "Oh, wait. He already is. Go get 'em, Hedwig."

You inwardly screamed at the knowledge that you were being watched by the current focus of your attraction and decided not to comment before leaving.

"Hedwig?" You heard Marlene addressing Jordan as you walked away, "Did you mean Hermione? Hedwig is Harry’s fucking owl. RIP, by the way."

God, you loved your friends.

Arriving at the large wooden bar running the length of the room, you flagged down one of the bartenders and circled a finger in the air to indicate another round. You and your friends came often enough for most of the staff to know your orders by heart. It was awesome.

"Question twelve!" The sound jolted you upright. You hadn't noticed you were standing right next to one of the extra speakers the bar used for trivia. Idiot, you cursed yourself, why must you be like this?

"Why was the Whomping Willow planted?" Cringing again at the volume, you craned your neck and located Marlene, who gave you an affirmative nod of 'I got this, fam.'

"Here you go!" The bartender placed your drinks in front of you, "Same tab?"

"Yes, please," You nodded, attempting to smoothly grab all four drinks, "Thank you!"

"Need some help?" The sweetest voice you had ever heard in your life sounded from your left side. You slowly turned your head to face its source and was equally as stunned by the beautiful boy in front of you.

This was one of Dimples’ teammates - one of the Team Text Us, We're Single boys.

"Um," your brain resembled the scene from Spongebob where he forgot his name. Your eyes darted over the boy's shoulder in a deliberate attempt to avoid his cute scrunched eyes and wide smile. But, you were only faced with something even more devastating.

Six boys openly gaped at you from the back table. When you caught their eyes, three looked away, two grinned shamelessly, and one blushed right to the tips of his ears.

Cute. Your insides turned to mush over how adorable your Dimples was.

"They're the worst, right?” The boy in front of you commanded your attention once more, "So nosy. Now, let me help you. I'm Jimin, by the way, from Team Text--"

"Us, We're Single," you finished, "Yeah, you guys beat us the last two Thursdays. We had such a nice winning streak going, too."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," Jimin smiled wide, "Most of us don't even care about trivia."

"That makes it even worse," you groaned, sliding two drinks his way, "I'm (y/n), from The Multiple--"

"Scoregasms," Jimin laughed, "Awesome name."

"Thanks!" Your confidence soared at his praise and you smiled genuinely, "It's some of my best work."

"Question thirteen!"

"Oh shit," Jimin muttered, "Let's go before I miss any more questions. Joon will have my ass on a platter."

You nodded, mind whirring to try to determine which team member this 'Joon' was. Maybe the intimidating-looking boy with the bleached blonde hair pushed back in a headband? Or the really muscular one in all black with the doe eyes and long brown hair?

"When Dumbledore and Harry first visit Horace Slughorn, what is he disguised as?"

At the question, you grabbed the two remaining drinks and head back to your table with Jimin following close behind. As soon as you began your journey, you rolled your eyes at the completely obvious way your friends were pretending they hadn’t been watching you and Jimin interact this entire time.

You had never seen them having such an animated conversation about... "Bagels are so good! I love how you can choose from so many different types, like cinnamon raisin, sesame, blueberry, honey wheat--"

"Hi," you forcefully placed the drinks down in front of your friends and succeeded in interrupting Marlene's riveting tirade about bagels, "This is Jimin. He was kind enough to help me."

"Hey, Jimin," Jordan eyed the boy appreciatively, "Decided to scope out the competition, huh?"

"Honestly, sort of," Jimin chuckled. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, not liking the sly edge his grin took on in the slightest.

"Well, hopefully (y/n) didn't give much away," Olivia giggled, staring up at Jimin with heart eyes, "She's our team leader."

"Damn straight." You plopped back down in your chair, "Want to sit with us? We can grab an extra chair from a nearby table."

"Nah," Jimin glanced over his shoulder at where his teammates were probably still staring, "I should get back. Want to hang out after trivia though? We can merge tables!"

Before you could even answer, Marlene enthused, "Yes! That would be so fun. Don't you think, (y/n)?"

You gave her your most lethal side-eye, catching onto what seemed to be happening here, "Yes... so fun."

"Great!" Jimin ignored your dry tone, "Talk to you later then!"

You all watched as he sauntered away.

"Damn," Olivia sighed, "That boy is fine." You nodded sagely as your eyes stayed glued to Jimin's firm ass as he walked away in those tight jeans.

"So, what's the plan, team?" Jordan clapped, "We have T minus twenty minutes to get 'Operation Get (y/n) Dicked Down' up and running. Let's do this."

God, you hated your friends.

Twenty minutes later, your team had solidly lost. However, unlike the last two weeks, your loss did not come as a surprise or alongside any hard feelings. You four were too busy prepping to hang out with seven intimidatingly hot boys.

You were the only one not excited.

“And that concludes trivia for tonight, folks,” the bartender announced, “Team Text Us, We’re Single wins once again. Please come to the bar to collect your bar credits, lads.”

“Oh my god, okay, it’s happening,” Jordan bounced up and down in his seat as you all watched the bar start to clear out, “Stay calm. Stay fucking calm.”

“I don’t know how you have any room to call (y/n) and I nerds while you straight up quote The Office, Jord,” Marlene laughed.

“The Office is an Emmy award-winning show,” Jordan sniffed, “Come at me when Harry Potter wins a Pulitzer.”

“The Pulitzer is only for American authors,” Marlene cried.

“I rest my case,” Jordan lifted his glass.

“What?” Marlene yelped, “That makes literally no sense.”

“As much as I hate to interrupt this fascinating argument,” Olivia drawled, “We’re being summoned.”

You gulped, glancing behind you. Sure enough, Jimin was flagging you all down from across the bar, while a few of his teammates dragged over an empty table towards their own.

“Shit, I guess this is it,” you sighed.

“Jesus, you’re not going off to war, (y/n),” Jordan rolled his eyes, “You’re literally about to meet the your trivia daddy.”

“Please— and I cannot stress this enough,” you paused, “Never say that again.” With that, you stood, grabbing your drink and sauntering over towards Jimin with all the confidence you could possibly summon.

You heard your friends’ laughter behind you, and you discreetly flashed them the middle finger behind you back.

“Hey, Jimin,” you smiled at the boy as he greeted you and your friends.

“Hi, welcome!” His eyes were completely encompassed by his cheeks, and you internally screeched at his cuteness.

“This is Taehyung,” Jimin gestured to the curly-haired boy to his right. Taehyung greeted you all with a deep ‘Hi’ and a peace sign.

“Yoongi,” Jimin pointed towards the intimidating boy you noticed earlier with the bleached hair and the headband. Yoongi only nodded in your general vicinity as greeting.

“Hi, I’m Jin!” The stunningly handsome boy at the end of the table burst out, evidently unable to wait until he was introduced. Jin blew you all a kiss as his friends groaned.

“Please ignore him,” Jimin rolled his eyes before moving on, “Those two are Hoseok and Jungkook.” Jimin gestures towards the bar where two boys were collecting two pitchers of beer.

“And, last but not least, our trivia leader Namjoon,” Jimin’s grin turned devious as the boy in question raised his hand in greeting and ducked his head back down.

“Please sit,” Jimin gestured towards the scattered empty chairs amongst his group.

“(Y/n)!” Jin called suddenly, his arm flopping frantically in the air, “Come sit next to me!”

Your eyebrows shot all the way up as your heartbeat accelerated. Sitting next to Jin meant sitting next to Namjoon - your Dimples.

Nodding, you made your way over. It would be rude to refuse his request, and you could not help but wonder if Namjoon’s friends were also schemers.

You rounded the corner of the table and plopped down between the two boys. “H-hi,” you offered, eloquent as ever. You sipped your beer to cover up your burning embarrassment.

“Hi,” Jin grinned at you, “Thanks for joining us at the handsome end of the table.”

You choked on your beer, before cracking up, “The handsome end?” You loved this boy already and couldn’t resist the urge to tease him, “Oh, you meant Namjoon.” You shot the boy you just mentioned a sly smile as Jin spluttered.

Namjoon cocked his head slightly as he slowly broke into a shy smile, “Yeah, he definitely did, (y/n).”

Lord Almighty, the way he said your named almost sounded like a confession.

“Oh, this is insane, you fools!” Jin shook with incredulity, “I am worldwide handsome. Not Namjoon. Ugh, I need new friends.”

Jin stood and skulked over to the other side of the table as you all laughed. He was so extra, you could already tell. However, his antics had done wonders for your nerves.

Turning back to Namjoon, you leaned in closer, “Did he just make an Always Sunny reference? Or was that just me?”

Namjoon nodded, eyes glinting in amusement, “He did. You watch that show, too?”

Your conversation delved into your favorite shows, your favorite movies, your favorite meals. You felt like you had known Namjoon forever with how comfortable you already were with each other. Yet, you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes strayed to your lips every so often or how his hands crept closer to your thigh with every parting word.

The boy was into you. You were almost 85% sure of it. So, you decided to test him.

In the middle of Namjoon’s story about the time Jungkook almost burned down his apartment complex, you slid your hand over his. Namjoon paused, and you looked up innocently. He gulped and continued.

You smiled viciously on the inside. Your fingers played with his, intertwining with them, playing with his rings, brushing over his palm.

As Namjoon’s story drew to a close, you tugged his hand onto your thigh and released it. Nonchalantly, you picked up your beer and took a sip.

Shooting the boy a quick glance in your periphery, you found him staring openmouthed at his own hand encompassing your thigh. He gave your thigh a tentative squeeze, and you hummed in content. His eyes shot to yours.

“W-what are you doing?” Namjoon’s pupils were dilated as he blinked at you.

“I just wanted your hand on me, Joon,” you pouted, “You can take it off if you want.”

You moved to shift his hand off you, but his grip tightened. “I like having my hands on you, (y/n),” he said, his voice deeper than ever, “I also like you calling me ‘Joon’.”

“Two more things we can agree on,” you smiled at him, stomach full of butterflies and anticipation. Glancing around you, you realized that your friends were dispersed throughout the bar.

Marlene, Jordan, Hoseok, and Jungkook were dancing wildly in the middle of the bar’s tiny dance-floor. Jimin and Taehyung were bothering the DJ to presumably keep playing an assortment of random songs from the early 2000s.

Olivia, Yoongi, and Jin sat at the bar, watching the others and laughing as Jungkook kept hitting the whoa no matter what song played. Currently, he was hitting the whoa to Baby Got Back.

Turning back to Namjoon, you find him looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“What?” you questioned, eyes searching his inquisitively.

He shoved a hand through his messy hair. “You’re so intimidating, (y/n). You’re so smart and beautiful, and it messes with my brain.”

“You’re intimidated by me?” You arched an eyebrow before smiling sweetly, “I promise I don’t bite… Unless you want me to.”

“I do,” he answered automatically. You both paused. His eyes widened comically, “F-forget I said that.”

“You want me to bite you, Joonie?” You sighed into his ear, relishing in his shiver, “You want me to mark your pretty skin?”

“Yes,” he breathed out.

“Okay,” your mouth descended to his neck, searching for a weak spot. His breath hitched as your mouth neared his thrumming pulse point. Bingo.

You placed an open-mouthed kiss onto his warm skin before sucking lightly. Namjoon moaned, shifting in his seat.

You bit down, and his hips bucked instinctively. Pulling back slightly, you licked over the mark that was slowly blooming on his neck.

The clear imprint of your teeth on his neck had you grinning like a fool. You really wanted to own this cute, shy, intelligent boy.

You looked up at Namjoon. He was watching you with his puffy lips parted, his breathing hard. “Can I kiss you?” You asked, eyes focused on his. He nodded frantically, and your lips tugged up in a small smile.

Slowly, you inched your mouth closer towards his. Your breaths mingled. You pressed your lips to his gently and wrapped your arms around his neck.

You kept kissing Namjoon until you finally had to come up for air. Leaning your forehead against his, you locked eyes, breathing each other in.

“Can I sit on your lap, Joon?” You asked in between peppering kisses on his reddened cheeks.

After getting a nod in confirmation, you straddled his lap and returned your lips to his. The small part of your brain still thinking rationally reminded you that you were in a very public bar. The much larger and irrational part of your brain urged you on as your hips shamelessly grind onto Namjoon’s. The hardened cock that you felt through his jeans was too tempting. And, besides, exhibitionism was fun, right?

You bit down on Namjoon’s bottom lip, and he thrust against you.

You broke away and turned your head to the side, needing another moment to breathe. Namjoon began to kiss your neck, and you let out a small laugh as he nipped at your skin. He was marking you right back.

Namjoon lifted his head again as your lips parted. His face was inches away from yours. He stared at you like a starving man.

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon said lowly, “I’m beginning to think you might be the devil, because you just snatched my soul.”

You stared at him. “That was so goddamned cheesy.” Your giggles made him turn an interesting shade of maroon.

“I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Jin-hyung,” you heard him mutter before you captured his lips once more.

As you kissed, his fingers slowly inched downwards, caressing you. You decided then and there that you would have this boy.

“Undo my jeans,” you commanded after pulling away from his mouth. His eager fingers dropped to your zipper, fumbling in their haste. Once your jeans were undone, you felt him hesitate. You instructed him, “I need your fingers.”

He thrust a finger into you. “Mm, Joon,” you dropped your head into the crevice of his neck as he pumped another one in, stretching you. His fingers curled inside you, as you shifted your hips.

“Rub my clit,” You demanded, and he pulled his fingers out and circled it immediately. You moaned at both the new sensation and at the loss of his fingers inside you. “Keep your fingers in me, use your thumb.” You gripped onto the back of his head, pulling on his hair in punishment.

His fingers thrust back into you without warning as his thumb circled your clit. You felt yourself clenching around him, so close to coming just from his hands. Still, you needed more. You were definitely a greedy bitch.

You pulled his hand from your pants, and he stared at his fingers, which were sticky with you. You watched enraptured as he lifted his wet fingers to his lips and sucked.

His eyes widened, “Fuck, (y/n), you taste so good. You have to let me eat you out. You need to let me put my head between your thighs. Please.”

“Bathroom,” you gasped out, “Now.” You shimmied off of Namjoon’s lap and onto shaky legs.

“Follow me in one minute,” you kissed his cheek and tried your best to casually make your way to the bathroom. However, you were pretty sure you had already blown all efforts to be casual as soon as you sat on Namjoon.

Finally, you entered the empty single-stall bathroom and let out a sigh of relief.

Two seconds later, a knock sounded. You barely opened the door wide enough before Namjoon was all over you. His hands gripped your ass as he backed you against the wall next to the sink.

He gazed down at you with hooded eyes, “You still want this, right?”

“Yes, Joon,” you leaned up to kiss him one more time.

Namjoon sank to his knees before you.

You audibly moaned at the sight. Quickly, you tugged your jeans down your legs and kicked them to the side. Your underwear followed suit.

Namjoon cursed lowly as you lifted a leg onto the ledge of the sink, baring everything to him. “Well,” you smirked, “You wanted to put that smart mouth on me.”

“You are going to kill me,” he muttered. His hot mouth closed over your clit. Parting your lips, he caressed you as he sucked and licked. His fingers thrust into you once more, pulling out slowly then pummeling back in.

“Harder,” you moaned. He fucked you faster, adding another finger, stretching you.

He pulled his mouth away from you, his lips swollen and pink. “How the fuck can you taste this good?” He panted as he carried on fucking you with his fingers, grabbing at your ass with his free hand.

His mouth returned to your pussy, circling your clit with his tongue and moaning against it. His fingers continued to push into you relentlessly.

You felt your toes curl as your orgasm approached at a maddening rate. “J-Joon,” you cried his name, your back arching as the pleasure built up with each stroke of his tongue and movement of his fingers.

Without warning, he sucked on your clit harshly, and you came, clenching around his fingers. Namjoon continued to pump them in and out of you, carrying you through your orgasm. He licked your pussy, lapping up everything you gave him with his tongue. After a bit, your fingers wound into his hair and pulled. “Stop,” you begged, legs shaking with overstimulation.

He pulled back immediately and lifted his head, looking thoroughly fucked-out. His lips were more swollen than ever. His hair was a tangled mess. You had never seen anything better. “God, you look so sexy right now,” you mused, reaching a hand to stroke at his cheek.

“Are you guys finally done in there?” You cringed as Jordan’s amused voice shouted at you through the bathroom door, “You have work tomorrow, (y/n).”

“Jesus H. Christ, Jordan! Go away!” You screamed back at your infuriating roommate.

“…I’m going to take that as a ‘yes’,” he replied, laughing, “See you out there, champ.”

“I’m going to murder him,” you seethed, accepting your jeans from Namjoon who held them silently out to you.

You scanned the floor of the bathroom, “Wait, where’s my underwear?”

Namjoon’s cheeks flooded with color as he lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck, “I needed some form of reminder of tonight.”

You shrugged, giggling as you tugged on your jeans, “Let’s make a trade.”

“I’m listening,” he grinned, goddamned dimples popping out and making you want to kiss him forever.

“You keep my panties; I keep you,” you grinned back at him.

He blinked rapidly, “Keep me?” You nodded, nerves erupting. Had you misread the situation? Did he just want this to be a one-time thing? Shit, had you royally fucked this up already?

He kissed you suddenly, and you relaxed.

“Please keep me,” he mumbled, “I’m a mess, but I can be your mess if you’d let me.”

“We can be messy together,” you gripped his hand in yours, “Now, come on. We have to go face our friends.”

Namjoon gulped, looking rightfully terrified at that prospect. “Or we could sneak out the back?”

A smirk wound its way onto your face, “I really do like the way you think, Joonie. Let’s go.”

With that, the two of you snuck out of the bathroom and out the backdoor of the bar.

“I knew it!” Marlene and Jimin greeted the two of you with triumphant fists thrust high in the air. Jimin whipped his phone out before you or Namjoon could even say a word. “Hey, hyung? Yeah. They’re out here.”

Ignoring the gloating pair, you turned to Namjoon, “We could still make a run for it?”

He met your eyes; and, without a word, you both took off.

Shouts of your names followed you down the dark alley as you both cracked up. This was definitely not how you had pictured your typical Thursday trivia night to go down, but you were not disappointed. No, you shot the boy running beside you an affectionate look, you weren’t disappointed at all.

#bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #btsbookclub #180knet #hyunglinenetwork #namjoon #knj #namjoon x reader #knj x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #namjoon smut #knj smut #kim namjoon

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sparkie96 · 3 years

Text

Nivannedy One-Shot (LeonxPiers Post RE6)

For @hellishgoat / @lovelyleons. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!🎉🎉🎉 ________________________________________________

Piers sat in Leon’s hoodie on the couch, staring at the television as it replayed the news from months ago. The chaos from Edonia, and then Tall Oaks and China. The scenes played out on the screen, but they didn’t show much. Not like his memories did. He remembered everything crystal clear. His memory wasn’t cut and edited. He could still hear the screams of the citizens and his teammates in both Edonia and China. He could still smell gunpowder, the smell of fire burning down buildings all around him and the smell of rotting flesh. He could still see the monsters…

...and at one point...he would have believed himself to be one...until now.

He had been moved from the Asian Branch of the BSAA to America so he could be treated with the C-Virus Vaccine. It had been the “trial vaccines” so he had to take them in small doses and go through treatments and therapy to get back in shape. Physically and mentally.

Leon Kennedy had been nice enough to let him stay with him.

Piers absentmindedly flexed his right hand, watching as it mutated back and forth from a normal arm to the mutated mass of bones and exposed muscle tissue limb he had in the underwater oilfield. While he did so, electricity coursed through his arm, the veins and arteries glowing blue, white and light purple underneath of tanned flesh. When he managed to turn his arm back to “normal”, the skin was split in various places and the unsplit areas were marred with the fractal patterns of what looked like lightning.

He no longer had manic episodes and felt more in control of the virus instead of the other way around. The treatments at the DSO were a big help, but he still had a long way to go. Though, he did still have panic attacks and moments of PTSD, but luckily Leon was there to comfort him and vice versa. He was on leave due to his recovery, but once he was fully cured, and fitted with a prosthetic for when they inevitably had to cut off his arm, he had a job at the BSAA waiting for him.

“Hey, you’re getting pretty good at that.” Leon observed as Piers changed his hand to and fro, the sniper freezing mid transformation.

The agent dropped his keys in the bowl on the table by the front door, setting down his jacket as he kicked the door closed behind him. Piers turned his arm back to normal before changing the channel to some reality show. He then muted it, turning his full attention to Leon, glancing at the clock while he was at it.

“You’re home early.”

Leon smiled, nodding in confirmation, “I am...because I think we should celebrate.”

Piers raised the brow above his good eye, “Celebrate...what?”

“You’ve been here and recovering for five months…” Leon began, not kicking off his boots, “And it’s our one month anniversary of being together. Officially.”

Piers gave a small “Oh!” of realization, smiling a small smile up at the agent as Leon sauntered over. He leaned over the back of the couch, leaning down and kissing Piers. Leon only pulled away to nuzzle his nose against Piers’s with a chuckle. Piers chuckled in return, scooting over so Leon could hop over the back of the couch to sit next to him.

“So, how do you want to celebrate?” Piers asked curiously, “Pizza? Movie Night?”

“Actually…” Leon began, “I was thinking...there’s a fair downtown…”

Piers’s smile faltered, “Oh...we’re going out?”

Leon held up his hands, “If you’re up to it. We don’t have to...just thought maybe...you wanted to get out of the apartment and go somewhere that wasn’t the lab at HQ...or the late night walks at almost two in the morning.”

Piers sat back in his seat, taking a deep breath as he contemplated it. He looked to Leon, who waited with baited breath. Although the thought of going out during the day, around people, still made him anxious. Why? Because, well, he only left the apartment when he absolutely needed to and he wasn’t one hundred percent normal yet. Or when he needed some air, but that was usually at night.

On the other hand, he was going to have to leave the apartment eventually. He couldn’t hide in here forever. He was going to have to go outside during the day for more than just appointments. Leon had offered to take him out before but Piers thought he hadn’t been ready.

Maybe he would make the leap this time.

Piers smiled and nodded, “Alright. I’m game.”

Leon beamed, hopping off of the couch and standing before him, holding his hands out in offering. Piers chuckled and shook his head at his boyfriend’s silliness, accepting the offered hands before being taken to the bedroom to get “dolled up” as Leon put it. ______________________________________________ “WINNER!” The vendor hollered as the stuffed cow reached the top before the others. “Nice shooting, Tex!” Leon congratulated as Piers’s section lit up, the sniper pulling away from his water gun with a grin.

The Vendor picked up the stuffed lion Piers pointed to, handing it to the man. Piers accepted it before handing it off to Leon, who looked surprised. They had played a number of games and ate some fair food, but Piers and Leon didn’t accept the prizes, giving them away to some of the other attendees.

“For me?” He asked over the sounds all around them.

Piers nodded, “Of course. A Lion for a Lion.”

Leon chuckled, “I keep forgetting that’s where my name originated from. But, thanks, Handsome.”

“Don’t mention it.” Piers said, wrapping his good arm around Leon’s waist as they wandered over to another game, “Where to next?”

They were wandering around the fairgrounds, Piers having to stop a couple of times to regain his bearings and Leon talking him through it so he didn’t become overwhelmed by the sights, smells and sounds. Truth be told, it was also the first time in a while Leon had been out and about to somewhere that wasn’t work, the lab in HQ and the occasional trip to the grocery store or for a take-out trip. He didn’t frequent the bar as much as he wanted to for fear of making Piers think that he was the reason for that trip. Nor did he want to abandon Piers.

So, after a while, he began talking with Piers and attending therapy as well. He still had a while to go himself in that department, but with Piers at his side...he felt...lighter. Like he wasn’t carrying the weight of the world.

“How about a change of pace?” Leon asked, pointing to the Ferris Wheel, “Maybe a nice relaxing Ferris Wheel ride?”

Piers looked to the Ferris Wheel with a contemplative look, “Is it safe?”

Leon chuckled, “It should be.”

Piers chuckled as well as they went over to wait in line. They handed the operator their tickets before climbing into the car. Piers let Leon in first, Leon sitting the giant stuffed lion next to him so that he was between Piers and the stuffed animal. They waited for the ride to start, the two glancing at one another before quickly looking away, smiling like idiots and blushing pink. The ride began to move, their cart moving upward and then backward, going around in a slow but smoothing circle while music played on the speaker in their cart.

Piers stretched out his arms, slyly sitting the right one behind Leon’s head. At least that was the intention...until the veins started glowing underneath the skin. He quickly pulled away, taking a quick breath to calm himself before shoving his hands in his pocket.

“So...does this count as a first date?” Piers asked with a clear of his throat, “Since I never officially asked you out and we never went anywhere?”

“No.” Leon replied with a smile, “But I think it’s still as special as all the Take-Out and Movie nights. And we did go on walks together.”

“True.” Piers said, peeking down at his hand, relieved that it was no longer glowing, watching the skin meld back together, “But this one must be more memorable and special?”

The cart jolted to a stop, spooking them both. Piers cursed as he momentarily lost his concentration, grunting as his hand almost transformed. Leon had noticed this time, gently taking the younger man’s hand in his own. Piers sighed another sigh of relief, regaining his composure as his hand stopped transforming once more, looking from it to Leon.

“Every day with you is memorable and special.” Leon admitted with a smile, “I know it sounds cheesy…”

Piers shook his head as he smiled, “No...it’s not cheesy at all...because I feel the same way. You keep me sane and I feel safe with you…”

Leon listened as Piers professed his feelings to the agent. Piers explained that since Leon had brought him over to America from the Asian Branch of the BSAA, he felt like he could trust Leon always. When he suffered nightmares and episodes of PTSD, Leon was there to help talk him down, even when Piers almost lost control and attacked him. He was supportive of him through recovery and his treatments, attending his appointments as moral support. Leon was the only one who didn’t treat him oddly. He was patient and kind.

“You’ve done more for me than I can ever repay you.” Piers admitted, getting a bit teary-eyed, “I owe you my life.”

Leon was a bit teary-eyed himself, smiling, “You don’t owe me anything.” Leon informed him, “Because you keep me sane too...and I love you.”

Piers watched him before leaning in, Leon meeting him halfway for a sweet and chaste kiss. They only parted when the ride began to move again, but even then, Leon nuzzled his forehead and nose against Piers’s, leaning his head against Piers’s.

They handed the operator two more tickets, deciding to ride once more.

“I love you too, Leon.” Piers replied.

“I know.” Leon said with a teasing smile, chuckling when the younger nudged him playfully.

#nivannedy #Leon S. Kennedy #Piers Nivans #piersXleon #leonxpiers #Resident Evil 6 #AU #Piers Lives #One-Shot #motivational monday #wip #The Ace of Spades

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leilabeaux · 4 years

Text

Luck Be a Lady

Chapter One

Masterlist

Pairing: Alex x Reader

Word Count: 2999

Summary: Reader was looking forward to a simple girls trip to Vegas to celebrate her birthday but it looks like it may turn to something more.

Warnings: walking in 6-inch heels, drinking with strangers, getting in a car with a stranger (I’m just saying that you should use your situational awareness)

Author’s Note: I was going to post this tomorrow but I currently cannot sleep even though I need to be up in five hours. I should be fine, it’s only 12 hour shift. 😒 The plan is to have this be a 3 or 4 chapter story as long as the outline in my head doesn’t go missing. Enjoy!

----

Despite a string of your favorite songs being played and being treated to a few free drinks--the only plus to the ridiculous birthday tiara your best friend made you wear, you just weren’t having a good time. You leaned on the bar in an attempt to give your feet some relief from the six-inch heels that Bianca roped you into wearing. Replaying your previous conversation in your head when you even dared to suggest wearing a pair of flats for their night out...

“I just want to be comfortable, Bi”, you whined while trying to keep a steady hand on your cheek while applying your eyeliner. There was no need to ruin your near perfect wing over this.

“You can’t wear your converses with a freakum dress”, Bianca yelled out from the living area of your hotel suite.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. One: it wasn’t a crime to not wear heels with any dress and two: your friend is out of her mind if she thought you were going to wear that dress outside of this room. This trip to Vegas was supposed to be a stress free trip to celebrate the start of your dirty thirties by enjoying public drinking, losing a bit of money, and eating your feelings in all you can eat crab legs. Unfortunately, your friend decided you owed her at least one night out dancing.

“Maybe I’ll just stay here then,” you said quietly to yourself.

You looked back into the mirror only to see Bianca standing by the door behind you with a look of disgust on her usually gorgeous face. “You can’t go to Vegas and not go out to the club and dance! You’re turning thirty, not sixty! Next you’ll be telling me you want to be in bed by midnight!”

“Actually, I’d like to be in bed by ten at the latest. There’s this salt grotto yoga class that starts around nine a.m. that I really want to try.”

“Salt grotto yo--girl, you’re killing me. No, no, no. You need to spend time at the club, not yoga.”

And so here you were, three minutes after ten with no end in sight and trapped in a dress that Bianca claimed looked hot on you. You would never admit it but she was right. The golden sequin long sleeved mini dress looked perfect against your brown skin. It had a deeper v-neck than any dress you wore before so you trusted the double sided tape would do its job. You were feeling yourself a bit and may or may not have checked yourself out in every mirror you passed. When your friend caught you once, you claimed you were making sure all the goods were tucked in where it belonged.

Looking over your shoulder, you scanned the crowd to see if you could spot your friend. It took a few beats but you were able to spot the tall blonde who was currently busy giving a very lucky guy what was basically a free lap dance on the dance floor.

“Jesus, child’s gonna grind his dick off.” you laughed into your drink. You knew you didn’t have room to talk, some odd years ago that was you on the dance floor, attempting to find a Mr. Right out of a club full of fuck boys. Fiddling with your wedding band, you were fortunate you hadn’t had to deal with that for years now.

As you downed the rest of your drink and got ready to order another one (hopefully another free one), you were engulfed in a hug. Alarmed at first until you looked down and saw the familiar tattooed arms of your friend.

“Y/N, I found you!” Bianca said into your ear as she squeezed you in a hug. “Come on, let’s go! This guy I met has a spot up in the VIP section!”

You turned your back against the bar to face your buzzed and possibly love struck friend. “Ugh, Bi. You know just being in the club is not my thing. I have no interest in being in the VIP either.”

“Please! I know it’s your birthday and all but this guy is so cute and his accent got me going like a water fountain.”

“I could have gone without the visual. Thanks.”

“Y/N, he has this friend--”

“Bi, no”

“Let me finish, just talk to him and keep him entertained.” Sensing that your stubborn self wasn’t going to budge, she decided to add “You know they have comfortable couches that you can sit on and get off your feet for a bit.”

“Well, why didn’t you lead with that?!” you yelled out.

Not allowing another moment to pass for you to change your mind, Bianca took your hand and led you to the other side of the club where the exclusive area was. You stumbled trying to keep your bearings while you tried to maneuver on the death traps she was on. You looked on and saw you were being led to a large black L-shaped couch occupied by two men who were in the middle of a conversation. Both of them stood up when they noticed you two approaching.

Well, I guess chivalry isn’t dead, you thought to yourself.

“Y/N, this is Marco,” she gestured toward the man next to her who now had his arm wrapped around her waist. “And this is his friend, Alex,” she said before mouthing out for you to be nice.

Alex took a step forward and held his hand out which you accepted. You quickly shifted your gaze up and down to take him in. He wasn’t bad to look at and if you were to be honest with yourself, he was fine as hell. The first thing you noticed, other than the fact that he towered over you which was not a rare thing with your short stature, was his smile. Beautiful, friendly and the warmth of it seemed to reach all the way to his blue eyes. A nice change from the predatory gazes and wolfish smiles you were getting while lingering at the bar.

“It’s nice to meet you”, he leaned down to say into your ear, aware that the booming music of the club making it hard to have a normal conversation. Your knees buckled slightly and you tried hard to convince yourself it was the shoes. If his friend sounded anything like him, then you had a complete understanding as to why Bianca was swooning so hard.

He motioned to the couch and stepped aside as you girls shuffled between the coffee table and couch to take a seat in the inner corner.

“So, how’s your guy’s night going?” Alex asked as he sat down next to you while Marco took his seat next to Bianca.

You were about to say that you were tired and ready to throw your shoes into the pits of hell but Biance beat you to the punch.

“We’re celebrating her birthday!” she shouted out.

“Birthday? How old are you?” questioned Marco as he draped his arm over Bianca’s shoulders.

Alex leaned toward his friend and gave him a light smack to the head, chastising him. At least it sounded like he was. You couldn’t even place what language he was speaking.

“I’m sorry for my friend he has no manners”, he apologized while flashing you a smile.

“I appreciate you defending my honor. It’s not that big of a deal to me. Now if he asked me how much I weighed, I might have to cut a bitch. But let’s see, I’m thirty years and…” you looked at your watch, “two days old now.”

Just as Alex seemed set to ask another question, the server returned with a round of drinks that were ordered while you were all taking your seats. You smirked to yourself as you observed her leaning over in an attempt to bring more attention to her plunging neckline. You couldn’t blame her. You were once a server in your past and wouldn’t hesitate to flirt or display your assets for extra tips but as she tried to make eyes with Alex, you had a feeling she was trying to get more than tips. Either the man was oblivious or just a courteous host who wanted to make sure you didn’t feel ignored.

A gesture you were very appreciative of since it seemed like your friend was currently occupied trying to get acquainted with Marco’s mouth. You turned your back towards them and raised your eyebrow at Alex after taking a sip of your drink. Both of you trying to ignore what your friends were upto.

“Are you having a good birthday at least?” he laid his arm across the back of the couch behind you. Smooth, you thought to yourself. It’s been over a decade since you were last in this position. Hope he doesn’t think he’s going to get lucky like his friend over there.

“It hasn’t been too bad. This night is more for Bianca than me since I’ll be ‘torturing’ her tomorrow with the cheesy things I want to do. If it was up to me, I’d probably be in bed by now.”

He laughed, “it’s not even midnight yet!”

“I know, I know!” you joined in with his laughter. “Bianca likes to say that I’m an official old lady but clubbing is not my scene anymore. I usually like to just stay home, catch up on my shows, and be in bed by eight at the latest.”

You went on to explain that, other than the fact the small city you lived in wasn’t known for it’s exciting nightlife, your early bedtime was mainly because you worked in a bakery. This led to him asking about all the sweets you could make him and you showing off all of your cake masterpieces you had saved on your phone. There was no moment where you felt like he was just humoring you, he seemed genuinely interested in what you deemed to be your craft.

“I just feel blessed to be doing something that I love,” you said as you put your phone away. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you didn’t want to spend your night talking about cakes and cookies.”

He shook his head, “Please, I don’t think you should ever apologize for talking about anything you’re passionate about.”

“Well, what about you? What do you do or what are you passionate about?”

“I am very passionate about being your potential cake tester,” he laughed as you rolled your eyes, “Just kidding. I am very passionate about photography.”

“Oh, so you’re a professional photographer?”

“I don’t know if I feel comfortable saying that I’m a professional yet, I’m still learning a few things,” he smiled coyly as he looked down toward his drink. “I just love trying to capture the beauty of the world in a way people don’t usually think of or getting those candid moments when someone doesn’t think anyone is looking. When they’re more open and have their guard down.”

“Well, remind me to not be around you and your camera. I like to be prepared for all pictures that are taken of me. Most candid shots make me look like a hot mess,” you joked. Those shots of you were thinking of were usually taken after you consumed multiple shots of alcohol.

“Oh, I really doubt that,” he said while he brought his gaze up and down, not even trying to hide what he was doing.

“Hey, Y/N!” Bianca shouted towards you, unknowingly interrupting the moment between you two, “It’s about eleven now but I’m feeling ready to go.”

Hallelujah, you thought. Although you were enjoying your conversation, there was a part of you who didn’t want to be further tempted by this man sitting in front of you.

You stood up to follow your friend and Marco as they both walked toward the exit hand in hand. Now you had no idea what exactly you stepped on but you cursed it and your shoes to hell as whatever it was caused you to stumble toward the ground. Luckily, a pair of arms wrapped around your torso, preventing your face from becoming close friends to the dirty club floor.

“Woah, are you okay there?” Alex said into your ear as he held you against him.

Good lord, he smells good, you thought to yourself. A part of you was enjoying the feel of his body against yours before you remembered he had asked you a question,“Yeah, I’m fine! Just fine!” you tried to steady yourself as you distanced yourself away from him. “These fucking shoes will be the death of me though.”

“Why wear them if they’re such a pain?”

“Apparently you can’t wear flats with a dress like this,” you brought your hand down your body to bring attention to the said dress.

Alex didn’t even try to stop his gaze from following your hand before he brought his eyes back to yours. “I don’t know. I think most people would be more distracted by the dress than what you’re wearing on your feet.” He ended his sentence with a bite of his bottom lip causing your cheeks to flush instantly.

You were grateful for the cool Vegas night air when you both stepped outside to meet up with your friends. Marco nodded his head over to the side, signaling to Alex to follow him.

Bianca grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to her.

“Okay, so a bit of a change of plans. I know you’re probably ready to go to sleep. So I’m just going to go with Marco to his hotel.”

“Mmhmm. Just leave me all by myself in our room. It’s only my birthday weekend but that’s fine if you want to spend it dicked down,” you gave a few fake sniffles to guilt Bianca over leaving you for some guy she met a couple hours ago. Honestly, you were happy for your friend but you never missed an opportunity to be a little shit.

“I mean, Marco’s friend isn’t too bad looking. Your fun-sized self could probably climb that man like a tree, I wouldn’t judge.”

You sighed and started twisting your ring around your finger. It was starting to become a nervous tick by now, “Bi, you know I ain’t doing that.”

“I know. I just think you should have nothing to feel guilty about if you wanted to try something new,” she said as she turned her gaze towards where Alex was standing. “I’m only saying this because I love you. You deserve better than what you have right now.”

“I love you too. But I just don’t know.” The two of you embraced as you tried to stop yourself from tearing up.

“You going to be okay, girl?” Bianca looked down at you and asked.

“I’ll be good,” you took a sharp inhale to stop any tears from falling, “Go on and have fun. Make sure you limber up though. Don’t want you pulling anything. I intend on taking you to that yoga class tomorrow.”

Bianca rolled her eyes as she pulled herself away from you and walked over to the Uber where Marco was waiting.

After ordering your own ride, you glanced over to watch on as your friend’s ride drove away and saw Alex sitting on the bench in the ride share area, hunched over trying to light a cigarette. You slowly walked over to him and took a seat next to him as you waited for your own ride to arrive.

“You decided not to go back with them and call it a night?”

“I don’t know, I’m not ancient like you,” he smirked at you as you pretended to be offended by his comment. “No, I didn’t feel like being a third wheel and I probably wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon. Marco’s not exactly quiet.”

“Yeah, I feel you on that one. Unfortunately, my poor ears have been exposed to sounds Bianca can make. Let's just say she’s a very enthusiastic performer,” you shivered both from the traumatic experience and from having more skin being exposed than you were used to.

“That’s great.” Alex took a drag of his cigarette. “I guess I can walk down the strip until the coast is clear.” He looked up and saw you trying your best to stay warm but failing. He stood up to take off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders before sitting back down.

“Thanks but you really don’t have to. My ride should be here soon,” you tried to protest but he just shook his head instead. You were sure he’d refuse to take his jacket back if you handed it to him.

You looked on toward the road, contemplating to yourself. You’re so close to a comfy bed and those million thread count sheets. You don’t owe this kid shit. Not your fault Bi got a hold of his friend and wants to ride his face raw. But it’s so sad for him to be wandering around by himself and making company with all the other lonely people on the strip. And he even gave you his coat. He can’t be that bad to be around. ARG! Fuck it.

“Hey, what is your stance on buffets because I don’t think I’ve had real food since lunch,” you offered, changing your original plans of just ordering room service.

“Honestly? They’re pretty much germ traps but it’s worth it if the food is good.”

“I knew we were on the same wavelength. Come on, I think that’s my Uber pulling up.” You said as you stood up and started walking toward the black sedan with Alex following close behind.

“Where are we going?”

“First stop is my room,” he raised an eyebrow at this statement, “where you will wait in the hallway while I change into some comfier clothes and shoes that won’t kill me.”

End Notes: Do you think our dear Reader will force poor Alex to wait in the cold hallway? Or is she just ready to risk it all? What will they choose at the buffet? Do you enjoy dining at a buffet? All these questions may be answered...eventually.

#alex høgh x reader #alex høgh andersen #alex høgh imagine #alex hogh andersen #alex høgh andersen x reader #alex høgh andersen imagine #alex hogh andersen imagine #alex hogh andersen x reader

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zankivich · 5 years

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Neighbors: Shawn x Plus Size Reader Chapter 15

a/n: yo idk why but this shit just flowed so naturally for me. I wrote this, chapter 14, and chapter 16 all in one go and it just poured out of. It just felt right. It felt like what the characters needed to have happen. And it fucking sucks because I lowkey can’t even look at a word document the same right now post all the bullshit, and I’m a little nervous that I won’t be able to write anymore. But this shit is such an escape for me. And it’s such an honor to tell this story. I really hope you like it. thanks for sticking with me. k bye.

P.S I listened to I Love You by Billie Eilish when I wrote the last section of it and it just completely transformed the meaning of the song and of this story for me. Feel free to give it a listen with this if you’d like.

*no one’s pov*

y/n got straight off an eight hour flight and somehow managed to end up at Stu’s apartment. When her best friend opened the door, the tears resurged and she fell with zero grace into his arms. Luckily he was right there to catch her and hold her as she fell. Meanwhile, despite being surrounded by dozens of crew members and friends and loved ones shawn fell deep into isolation. When Cez and Andrew saw their star heading for the tour bus instead of the car with his girlfriend, eyes red and cheeks tear stained, they knew better than to try to over crowd him. He didn’t leave them with much of a choice either as he shook his head miserably and headed straight for his bunk without a word to anyone. When they got to the hotel in Glasgow he made the extremely odd request, at least for Shawn, to be dropped off in the back entrance away from the public eye. He went straight to his room, spoke to no one, did nothing. He was absolutely useless.

It is as awful as anyone can imagine. For his entire day off, he doesn’t leave the hotel room. He ignores everyone’s calls, texts, and emails. He doesn’t eat, doesn’t sleep. He just sort of lies there in a useless heap. He wants to go home. He feels like he’s being physically pulled home. But he can’t. He’s stuck.

Y/n can’t even go to work the next day. She can’t leave Stu’s apartment, can’t even face the hallway that she lives in because it will be full of him. Everything seems to be full of him. Each of them are left feeling hollowed out, like someone had taken ice cream scoops to their chests until there was nothing left but sorrow and hurt and jagged edges. It’s the worst thing either of them has ever gone through, and yet the other isn’t there to go through it with them. Somehow that only makes it worse.

A video from the q and a at the first show post break up goes up online. Someone asks about y/n and he nearly loses it. There’s a pain in his eyes that everyone can see, mostly because he was completely incapable of hiding it. The fan simply asked if he’d written any songs about her. It takes him over a minute of breathing before he can even answer the question. And even if no one knew it, not having her there to match his breathing to means it only takes him longer. He has to sit on his hands because they’re shaking so bad.

“She’s the only thing I write about now.”

It doesn’t sound happy coming from his mouth. It doesn’t look happy in the video. And fans begin to argue online about his energy levels in the meet and greet. Andrew is concerned. Cez is concerned. Zeubin and Brian and Alessia and Conner are concerned. He pulls Why and Never Be Alone from the setlist in the hopes that he can get through a single show without crying. It only takes one night for him to find out that it’s worse than he could have ever imagined. Because the songs don’t sound the same to him anymore. And he can’t get the visual of her telling him that she hates him out of his mind. He stares out into the crowd and the energy just isn’t there. He doesn’t want to be there anymore. He just wants to go home.

Andrew doesn’t feel the need to intervene until the panic attacks get bad again. They’re fifteen minutes out from a show. The band is already on stage. And he can’t breathe. He’s sitting in the dressing room hand on his chest when they go to get him, and he honestly can’t move. It reminds Andrew of what he used to look like before they knew they were panic attacks, before the medication. So he clears out the room and sits next to him on the floor because it’s the only thing he can think of.

“It’s okay bud. Just breathe. Tell me what I can do.”

He shakes his head and stutters turning to Andrew with terrified eyes. He points to his chest and tries to breathe, but he can’t. It takes them forty-five minutes to get him off the floor that night. They have to pull three songs from the set.

Y/n’s response is a little bit different than Shawn’s. After her third day of missing work, she makes a brave attempt to pull it together. Brian and Stu go over to her apartment and remove any trace of Shawn that they can find. His sweatshirts, his headbands, one of the acoustic guitars he kept in her bedroom so that he could play for her whenever the notion struck him. There’s a picture of them on her dresser from Christmas smiling at each other. There’s another on her fridge from the grammys where they’re stoned out their minds and he’s sitting on her lap giving a peace sign to the camera. There are things they can’t even place like her favorite mug that he bought her from his favorite coffee shop. In his apartment, it's an even bigger mess because he’s let her make herself right at home. They can’t tell who’s candles are who’s, and which blanket came from which person. She’s got so many baking tools at his apartment that they’re bound to make a mistake. (They do. The first time she goes home she comes across a wine bottle opener that he went out at one in the morning to get for her when they broke the other one. She cries for an hour and goes to bed at six oclock in the evening).

Regardless, she goes back to work. She gets her team into shape. She keeps working. No one dare make mention to anything in her personal life less they want to deal with her directly. She puts everything Shawn related in a box and shoves it deep, deep away not to be dealt with. It’s the only way she can stay afloat. It’s the only way she can get out of bed in the morning. It’s not about getting over Shawn in the slightest. It’s about pretending he never even existed. It’s a completely unsustainable, terrible coping mechanism, but it’s the one that feels less painful at the time.

Shawn gets an increase on his meds. It gets Andrew off his back, makes everyone think that things might turn around for the better. He could’ve told them that was bullshit, when he’s so doped up on the meds that he can’t feel anything, not even the pain anymore, it seems to speak for itself. Every day feels like a fucking life time for him. Maybe it was dramatic, maybe he’d lost touch with reality but...he just couldn’t help how he was feeling. He was destroyed. Everything he’d ever thought was true was gone. Her leaving had only confirmed for him that he loved her more than anything, that she was everything. And without it, without the knowledge that he might ever get to hold her again, speak to her again, kiss her, even hear her laugh. It was hard to feel like there was something worth getting out of bed for.

***

He’s lying in bed after having canceled his gym session for the third time that week and his best friend had found a way to get a keycard for his room, because he most certainly wasn’t getting up to answer it.

“Hey,” He spoke softly easing into the room. “Cez asked me to come check on you. You missed lunch. Want us to get you something?”

He hated being a burden on others. Even when his world was falling apart.

“Nah, man. I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”

Brian snorted. “That’s a good one. Everyone’s fucking worried about you. I--I’ve never seen you like this in the whole time we’ve known each other.”

He’s juggling some balls absentmindedly in his hands so as to not have to look at his friend in the face.

“Yea well...That makes two of us.”

“It can’t be healthy to keep this shit inside, Shawn. When are you gonna open up to us about y/n. It’s obvious that--”

“Don’t.” He mumbled tiredly. “Please don’t, man. I can’t.”

Brian takes a seat on the edge of the bed and just peers back at him for a moment.

“I’m your best friend, aren’t I? If there’s anyone you can talk to it’s me. I won’t go running to tell the adults man, you know that.”

His lip is starting to tremble so he juggles a little faster.

“I am just barely keeping it together right now. If anyone wants this tour to continue...this is all I got, Bri. I can’t do any better. I’m trying harder than I ever have. I want to go home so fucking badly. I miss--”

He started to choke again and the panic creeps up on him just like it always does as the balls fall to his lap. It’s never been this bad before.

“Just let it out, man. You gotta let it out.”

He reaches for the necklace around his throat. The swallow. He spends hours at night wondering if she’s taken it off, and if she has then what does that mean for them? What does that mean?

“Do you know what it’s like to love someone so much that you destroy each other? Like that shit you read about in books where the love is so vast that they end up hating each other in the end?”

“Nah man I don’t know what that’s like, but I bet it hurts.”

“Bri,” He gasps cause his chest is so fucking tight and it hurts to breathe. “It hurts so fucking bad. I miss her man. I just miss her so much. I ruined it.”

“What did you do? What happened?”

“I--I think we...I think it’s over. I think I lost her.”

It is the hardest thing in the world to explain. He had replayed it over and over in his mind. He hadn’t even been able to stomach saying the words, and yet she had pulled them out of him. She was braver than he ever could be because even now he couldn’t say it. He hadn’t wanted to leave her. He just couldn’t give her what he knew she deserved. And he couldn’t be the partner that he knew she deserved. It was hurting her. It was hurting her more than she was going to admit to him. He just didn’t want to hurt her for a year, when the result was always going to be that he couldn’t choose her even if his heart had the second he met her. Worse than that, he couldn’t imagine having her be in pain back home only to never reach out, only to let it all sit inside of her instead. The tour had to go on. So, what good did it do to talk about moving in together, about vacations, about a life together if it wasn’t going to happen. Wasn’t that just cruel?

“Shit, Shawn...that’s so heavy.” Brian sighed. “I--I don’t know about any of that man. I’ve never loved someone the way you two love. But, I can’t pretend that what you had wasn’t something special. You two not being together is just...it doesn’t even feel right. What happened to the two of you against the world?”

“I was perfectly willing to miss her every day just as long as she was gonna be okay back home. And y/n she just...she puts up such a good front that sometimes I don’t think she needs me at all. Sometimes I felt like I was just tripping after her wanting her like some love sick puppy. And then...then she let me in and I saw that it isn’t just me. She--She really loves me the way that I love her. I don’t want her to feel what I was feeling every day.”

Brian can’t help but wonder how his best friend had arrived at the solution of breaking up with her as a means to mitigate her pain.That made such incredibly little sense to him. But, this wasn’t meant to be a conversation of rational discussion. It was just meant for Shawn to finally open up to someone about how he was feeling.

“So you broke up with her.” He hedged carefully. “But it doesn’t even seem like that’s what you want. You seem broken man.”

“I just can’t see anyway through, Bri. I can’t see a way where she’s gonna sit at home waiting for me for a year and feel this way. How is it worth it? How am I worth that? I was twenty-one when we started planning the tour, and I thought I didn’t need anyone, thought I’d be single forever. I didn’t think I would find the person I...How could I do that to her?”

Brian snags one of the balls from Shawn and throws it quietly back and forth for a moment. He might have given them a lot of shit all the time, as a true best friend should, but Brian knew maybe better than anyone how good they were for each other. He was Shawn’s best friend. Had been there for the one nights stands, the girls who had just been there for the fame, the ones he’d actually fallen for that hadn’t worked out. Shawn and y/n were special. They were healthy and good and they made each other happy. So perhaps he had a little better insight then most.

“I get what you’re saying dude...I’m just wondering if maybe you should have let her be a part of that decision too.” He said honestly. “Instead you just made it for her.”

***

The shows don’t stop and Shawn doesn’t necessarily get any happier. He does get a little better in the meet and greets. He leans a little harder on the fans without ever telling them why. But it doesn’t matter cause they’d do anything for him regardless. The light in his eyes doesn’t return. He builds a facade for when there are cameras around, but even that is futile. Josiah has hundreds of pictures of him in a general shitty mood, so he just stops sharing them. Andrew starts getting calls from the label. But fuck the label, because that’s his family who’s hurting and something has to give. He’s running out of ideas.

When his dad shows up, Shawn feels like he’s sixteen again. He feels like a whiny ass teenager whose parent has come to scold him. And he’s so not himself at this point in his life that he can’t see through that, can’t even enjoy his dad’s company. So, when Andrew calls a team meeting on his off day, and he’s sat in a room with all of the people he employees to help him manage his life and his career, and then his dad on top of all that, he just feels frustrated. He feels like he’s never gonna get it right. He also is too tired to pretend that anything they’re gonna say is going to change anything.

Andrew stands up in the middle of the room and looks at him with serious, pained eyes. It only serves as a reminder of all the people that he’s hurting. As if he didn’t feel bad enough

“So here is where we’re at. We have not had a completely smooth run of this show since the damn thing started. You are absolutely miserable. And the meds are only making you walk around like a zombie. We have all been here with you since you were a kid, since you were fifteen years old and we have never seen you like this. Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t pull this tour.”

That brought the first sign of life to Shawn’s eyes in weeks.

“What? We can’t cancel the tour.”

“I can. And I will. There is zero point in having a tour if your heart isn’t in it Shawn. It’s not just bad for business, it’s bad for you as a person...you look like you’re dying, man.”

There’s pity in the eyes of every single person looking back at him. It’s concern and worry and somehow they’ve got his fucking dad in the room, which means he hasn’t been keeping it together in the slightest.

He rubs roughly at his face trying to disturb whatever everyone else had been seeing lately. He didn’t know what the hell to do anymore.

“Look it doesn’t matter if I’ve been a little sad lately. There are hundreds of thousands of people who are coming out to see these shows. We can’t just cancel. I’m not gonna be that guy. I appreciate the concern everyone, but I’m not canceling the damn tour.” He huffed. “And forcing my dad to fly out isn’t the way to force me to do it either. I’m not a child and the last time I checked it’s my name on the stage.”

He kind of sounds like a dick, but he just wants this to be over. He wants to go out and do his job and let that be it.

“We thought you might say that,” Manny sighed. “So I brought your mother.”

“What?!”

And just like that he’s a scorned child on the couch as his mom walks in. He’d been ignoring her calls recently so that he wouldn’t have to see the pity in her eyes too. He just didn’t think that he could take that.

“Let’s give them a moment, you guys.” Andrew says.

The rooms empties out. His dad sits in the chair across from his and his mum plops herself right on the couch next to him.

“Well now come here why don’t you?” She snorted opening her arms.

So, he lies on the couch with his head in his mum’s lap. And she smoothes at his hair and doesn’t say anything for like fifteen minutes. The silence is deafening. His dad is looking at him like he’s ten years old again. It might as well be reverse psychology because his lips are moving against his will before he can stop them.

“I don’t know what they told you but it’s not a huge deal. I’ve just been in a bit of a funk lately.” He sighed.

She hummed. “A funk? Okay. What do you think this funk is stemming from?”

His hand was on her knee and his grip tightened considerably at her question.

“I--I lost y/n.” He whispered throat getting thicker around the words. “I didn’t even lose her I just, I just let her go. And I don’t think I’m ever gonna get her back.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

It was a well known fact in the family that Shawn felt everything deeply. It was part of what had gotten him into music so quickly. When he felt an emotion, or wanted to do something he was in it with his whole heart. It could be really good when it came to the positive, but it didn’t mean that the negative didn’t hit just as hard. So, Karen was far from surprised when Andrew called to explain that her son’s latest break up was taking its toll on him. In fact she was surprised he’d lasted as long as he did.

He’s sniffling now as a tear rolls down the bridge of his nose and onto her jeans. But he just has to know.

“‘Liyah told me once that you said she might be the one for me. Did you mean it?”

“I did.” She said honestly. “She’s a little older than you. She keeps you in check. And you look at her like...like you’d give it all up for her in a heartbeat.”

It’s apparently the wrong phrasing to use because Shawn flips on to his back and covers his face with his arm as the tears come a little stronger now.

“Except for I didn’t. Because I’m a piece of shit and I don’t deserve her.” He groaned.

“Now what does that mean? Talk to me.” She murmured.

She pulls at his arm and wipes his tears away.

“I didn’t give it all up for her. I went on tour knowing we’d be apart for a year. Knowing that no rational person could do a year of long distance like that. I made her believe that we could do it too, and then I fucking broke her heart mum. I don’t deserve her.”

“Sounds like you fucked up.” She nodded. “Sounds like you hurt someone you care a lot about. But sabotaging yourself isn’t going to make y/n forgive you and it’s not going to save either of you any hurt. Only you can do that.”

“What am I supposed to do? I’m still on tour for the rest of the year.”

“Well...it sounds like Andrew offered you an out. You have to decide for yourself what it is you’re willing to live without. You’ve got to take a long hard look at yourself and decide what your future is going to look like. I can’t do that for you sweetheart, none of us can.”

***

His fingers are moving languidly on the keys. He’s drunker than he’s been since New Year’s and that surely is the only reason he could possibly have called her that night. Surely he had more sense than that on a good day.

He never gets her voicemail, but the phone stops ringing and silence ensues. So, he talks because he doesn’t need anyone to listen. Doesn’t want anyone to listen if it isn’t her.

“I wrote you a song.” He sighed playing the melody on the keys. “I’ve written so many about you now that I keep thinking I can’t write another. But, here I am. It’s uh...well it’s really fucking sad. Can’t believe I used to openly ask for someone to break my heart just so I could write music. I’d much rather hold you instead. Do you remember the last time I held you?”

His eyes start to blur and he pulls his finger off the keys to wipe angrily at them.

“Fuckin aye, y/n.” He gulped. “How is it this hard? Why does it feel like my heart is being ripped apart right now?”

There’s a sound on the end of the phone that pulls him back in. It’s not the kind of sound of a voicemail either. It sounds like a sniffle. He presses to light his screen back up and sees that the call is still going. She’s on the other end. She’s there.

“B--baby? Is that you?” He sniffled. “y/n, I love you so much, is that you?”

He can practically see her lying in her bed in the dark. Her water diffuser on. Was she still wearing the matching harvard sweatshirt he bought her? Did she still have her necklace on? Did she still have her necklace on?

Y/n had heard every word. She was sitting in her bed in the dark when her phone began to ring. If you had asked her if Shawn ever called would she pick up, she surely would have told you no, would have sworn it up and down. But the second his name came up she had answered with zero hesitation. And of course she had started to cry immediately, but nothing could have prepared her for this relentless comfort that she felt. To know that he was there. To know that he still cared about her at all. Something she had known so fundamentally in all of her heart had been stolen from her that night in Amsterdam, and here he was in a drunken haze somehow managing to give it back to her. And god she did love him for it. How could she still love him?

“Don’t leave,” He whispered reaching for the bottle of vodka on top of the piano and nearly spilling it. “You don’t have to say anything but just...don’t go.”

She listens to him drink some more and there’s concern deep in her gut. Shawn never drank that much. And he was such a feeler that whenever he drank it only expanded his emotions drastically, whatever they were. The last thing she wanted to hear was for him to fall even deeper into sadness. Which made zero sense. He had destroyed her after all. How could she be so stupid?

“I should’ve canceled the tour.”

It’s the closest she comes to speak because surely he’s not getting enough oxygen to his brain.

“I shouldn’t have let you leave. I should have gone home with you….. I wanted to buy you house. I wanted to design you a kitchen. We--We could open a bakery together with live music and maybe beer too….. I don’t want any of this anymore. None of it’s worth anything without you.”

Somehow it hurts even worse for him to share these new thoughts with her. Though they shared most things with each other everything out of Shawn’s mouth was from the deepest pits of his heart. Y/n didn’t know that he’d searched for a realtor, or that he spent his nights not able to sleep looking at different versions of marble that might be best for tempering chocolate. It felt like he was mapping out a life that they could have had, an alternate reality that was no longer pliable. No longer possible. It felt like he was just fucking with her at this point.

“Then why did you throw me away?” She whispered.

“Sweetheart I--”

The line goes dead.

***

“So, here’s the thing . . . you’re not doing well.”

Y/n’s eyes had been peering out the glass windows of her boss’ office, but she immediately peered back at her.

She tilted her head in surprise. “What do you mean? My numbers are the best in the division?”

“Yes. You’re doing your job well, y/n. There’s no doubt about that.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Remember that little conversation we had a few months ago? About the importance of you holistically as a person? I’m not nearly as impressed with you doing well at your job when you walk into work every morning looking like every breath you take is painful.”

At this point y/n was barely holding on by a thread. She wanted so badly to call Shawn that every hour was physically painful. She wanted to know what he was going to say when she hung up. She wanted to know if he remembered anything at all. And worse than anything else whatever melody he’d played on that piano had haunted her dreams for days.

“Ma’am I...I truly am giving it my all. I lost someone that...that I kind of thought might have been it for me. And I didn’t lose him because he fell out of love with me, or because of something that I did at all. I lost him because I loved him so much that being without him hurt and he couldn’t stand to hurt me anymore. So, I don’t know what else you want me to do, but I’m not alright. And I’m not gonna be alright for a long while I think. All I can give you is my best. This is it.”

And Gina stares at her for a long while. She can see the sadness in her eyes. The way that her shoulders slump in defeat. The tiredness in her bones. It’s all there. And it's so deeply ingrained in her that even she can’t see a way out of it all.

“So, what can I do to best support you? How can I help ease some of this burden?”

“I don’t know...I really don’t.” She sighed.

“Okay. That’s fair. Here’s what I want you to do for me. I want you to go home. And I want you to come back to my office tomorrow with an answer. Can you do that?”

“Gina I...I don’t wanna go home. I wanna be here.”

She smiled sadly at her. “That’s exactly why I think you need to leave. Please, go. And call me if you need anything.”

***

It is crazy how even in two different time zones, in two different places on the planet, with zero communication how two lives can parallel so easily. In Toronto, y/n sits in a room with her boss while Shawn sits somewhere in Europe with Andrew. The conversations that they have are eerily similar as well.

“So I think I know what I might need but uh...I just don’t see anyway for it to happen.” Y/n started.

Gina nods. “Why don’t you tell me what it is, and I’ll see if we can make a way.”

“Okay...well, I guess I’ve been working non-stop since I was nineteen years old. I interned with this company when I was twenty and I’ve been here ever since. I’ve never taken a significant vacation, and the most days I’ve ever taken off in my career were to visit my ex. So...maybe I just need some time off. Like significant time off. Maybe I need to see something that isn’t Toronto for a change?”

Shawn, meanwhile, is picking at his jeans anxiously while Andrew stares at him. He’s stopped taking his medication at this point in a desperate attempt to try and handle his shit himself. It’s harder than he could have imagined.

“I don’t know man. The timing is so shitty. I get that. I do, but...I just want something different now. I’ve been touring since I was fifteen. And I thought I’d want to do it for the rest of forever. I did.”

“But?” Andrew asked.

He claps his hands together in front of him. They’re shaking. And he’s got no one there to help him still them.

“But...I think--I think that if she called me today and asked me to never tour again, I’d say yes in a heartbeat.” He admits quietly.

It feels like the most awful thing he could ever say out loud. It feels like such a contradiction to everything that he’s been for the past damn near decade of his life. He loved music. He loved to perform. But shit, he loved her more.

“Okay. So what does that mean for us right now, bud?”

“I think maybe, maybe we should pull it.” He whispered.

Gina twirls a pen in her fingers and swings her chair back and forth as she stares at her employee with more potential than maybe the rest of her company combined. What she would offer was practically unheard of, even in the liberalism that was Canada. But, it might just salvage her life and frankly her career.

“How does... a six month sabbatical sound? You can keep your salary. I will place Mr. Bateman’s choice back into the position in the meantime, and I will guarantee you the ability to return to your position when you come back. In terms of growth in the company it will be as if you were gone, but the fact that you’re already at senior executive level means you wouldn’t see any movement in at least three to five years anyway. How does that sound?”

“Holy shit. Holy shit. Gina are you forreal?”

She shrugged. “Someone did something similar for me once upon a time. Girl you are twenty-six, you are too young to be so stressed. You’ve got your forties for that. I’ll have the paperwork drafted. Pass everything off to your assistant and we’ll get you out of here. Go see the world, go explore what kind of woman you wanna be. It’s done.”

Andrew looks at Shawn with nothing but sympathy in his eyes. And he truly wishes he could find a way to make it all better for him.

“Let me look into it. See how much of a hit it’s gonna be for us. Can you give me a couple more shows, while I figure it out?”

He nods softly, but his heart and his head and his everything are already back in Toronto.

***

He’s sitting in the bathroom of some arena. His back is against the porcelain walls and the coolness of the floor is seeping into his jeans. He feels it in his bones and in his gut, like the coldness is turning into a knot of ice where his intestines should be. His fingers feel numb but every couple of seconds there’s a tingling sensation like they’re trying to remind him what feeling is like. He brings his palm to cover his heart because it all feels too tight. His shirt is suddenly too restrictive. And so is his jacket. And so is his skin. He can’t breathe. And not because it’s too hard to, but because he just doesn’t want to anymore. It’s like his entire body—including his mind and his soul—are failing him in this moment, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

It is the most terrifying and lonely experience in the world to have your body turn against you in that way. He’s in pain, but it doesn’t even have the decency to be sharp. This pain is dull and it throbs and it radiates from every pore. And there’s no one there with him to fix it. He’s alone in a physical sense but also in a deeper way too. He scratches his fingers across his face and up into his hair trying to feel something, trying to shock himself out of it. It’s no use. He’s alone and he’s afraid and he’s got nothing left to give.

Outside of that room the screams of the crowd are rumbling through the entire building, and the expectation only chokes him further. What they need of him. What they expect him to do. Who they expect him to be. Who he could never really be if he tried.

He presses his head against the wall a little too aggressively but the pain grips him more firmly into reality. His skull connects with concrete and for a second he doesn’t think about not being able to breathe, about not being able to ever remember a time when things were okay because everything around him is fucking dark and where the hell is he supposed to find a light in this tunnel? It’s fleeting though. And soon it’s just him again. Just him stuck in his body with none of the functions actually working. and he’s so scared that his hands are shaking and he can’t even feel that.

He reaches for his phone and there’s no one else he can call. It’s not even a conscious decision, he just presses the button and keeps trying to breathe. He can’t even imagine what he’ll do if she doesn’t pick up. Luckily she doesn’t make him way for long before her face appears on his screen. If he wasn’t already struggling to breathe she would have taken his breath away.

The phone is on ground, which means all she can see is the ceiling, and she peers at her own screen in confusion.

“Are you like butt dialing me right now?” She asked.

He reaches for the phone and his hands are shaking but she’s there. They’re looking at each other for the first time in over a month and he kind of wants to cry in relief, but her voice is there and he doesn’t want to lose a second of this.

“What’s wrong?”

Because she knew. Of course she knew. He makes the sign they came up with. It’s just a wave of his hand in front of his throat, but she seems to get it immediately. The best part of all of it was the look in her eyes. She never stared at him with pity the way his entire team had since she left. There was a calmness to her, a certain level of strictness and formality that he desperately needed.

“Okay.” She says simply. “Okay just...take a deep breath. Whatever is going on right now can wait. Take your time with this.”

His fingers reach for the necklace, their necklace, and her eyes widen when she realizes he never took it off. But then her eyes grow sad again and suddenly it hurts worse to breathe than ever.

“Close your eyes.”

“N--No. No. Can’t.” He huffed.

She rolled her eyes at him. Of course.

“I’m not going anywhere, jackass. Close your eyes, you’re focusing on too much right now.”

“Will you...still...be there?”

It’s a loaded fucking question to ask when he can’t breathe and they’re several thousand miles apart and he’s the one who broke her heart. He’s such a dick for asking her. She owes him nothing, and yet here she is still giving him everything.

“...Yes.”

His eyes eventually flutter close and suddenly it’s all darkness. Darkness and her. It’s the only thing he has to focus on.

“Keep breathing.” She coaches softly. “Like you’re just at home in your apartment meditating. There are no stakes here. If you don’t get it a hundred percent right, that’s okay. We’re just breathing. We’re just feeling. Let yourself feel. Your feet. Ankles. Your thighs. Feel your chest, Shawn. Feel your heart. It’s all gonna be okay.”

With the numbness oftentimes comes with floating. It’s not just that he can’t feel his body, but that it’s as if he’s outside of it entirely. When she speaks, she pulls him back in. There’s no crowd outside, no one to disappoint. They’re just breathing together. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. Even when nothing is.

She knows that he’s breathing normally before he even does. She tells him to open his eyes and when he does he’s still in the bathroom of the arena, but the cloud of fear is gone. And somehow she’s still there staring right back at him. He must be the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet.

“You’re okay.” She hummed. “See?”

“I--I’m so sorry I called you. That’s not fair. I just...I didn’t know who else to call. It was bad.”

“Looked like it. You’re supposed to be on stage soon.”

“How did you--”

“You sent me your schedule for the whole tour, remember?” She murmured. “Your hands are still shaking by the way.”

He peers down at them in frustration. He used to be able to still them on her hips. She used to let him hide his trembling fingers beneath her shirt where all that mattered was touching her skin and loving her. It didn’t matter if his hands shook. She’d always let them shake and that’s exactly when they would stop.

“It’s my first show off my meds.” He admitted.

He hadn’t felt the need to share that with anyone else, which was maybe why he’d hid his panic attack in the bathroom, but he can’t help but share with her. He can’t help but want her to know everything about him.

“Wow. How come?”

“I was...over using them. Felt numb. Andrew was starting to worry so I just… I figured I should try without them.”

“And how are you feeling without them?” She asked softly.

“About the way I felt before I started taking more of them.”

She sighs a big enough breath for the two of them he thinks.

“Yea. I know.”

“I miss you,” He whispered so softly they both nearly miss it. “So much.”

“Shawn...I should go. You should go.”

But he literally can’t. Now that she’s in front of him his mind is running haywire with all the things he wanted to tell her, all the memories he’d been thinking about since she left, since he lost her.

“Do you remember that time when we were having all those thunderstorms for a while. And you didn’t want to tell me that they scared you? So I just had to figured it out for myself? And we just...just laid in bed for hours. We talked. I played with your hair. Do you--do you remember that?”

“Please? Why do you have to keep doing this to me?” She mumbled, eyes wet. “What did I do, aye? Just tell me what I did wrong.”

“You’re perfect. You’re it for me. I just...blew it.”

“Well isn’t that just so sweet for you to understand now after you broke my fucking heart.”

He frowns down at his jeans.

“It was never about loving you. I think--I think you’re the love my life actually. I just want to give you everything and I can’t right now. But, it’s what you deserve. And I don’t know how, how to reconcile that. I can’t stand the thought of hurting you. I can’t stomach the idea of you not having the relationship you deserve.”

“So it was better to give me up entirely?” She whispered. “That is so fucked, Shawn. Have a good show.”

“Wait! Wait. Just...I need to know. Do you...could you ever still love me?”

He watched the tears finally pool and run down her cheeks and his first thought was to go to her. To get on whatever plane could go the fastest and take him the fuck back home. Back to her.

“I think you’re the greatest love I’ve ever known. I think I’m gonna love you for the rest of my life.”

And then she’s gone. And he feels like he’s just given her up all over again.

***

Oddly enough it’s the best show he’s done in a while. His hands shake and he gets really overwhelmed by the crowd, and yet there’s a calmness somehow. He’s got no idea what it is. Meanwhile back in Toronto, y/n starts to pour herself a glass of wine before saying fuck it and reaching for the bottle instead. It only takes a quick search to find someone livestreaming the show, and she’s certainly feeling like a glutton for punishment tonight. The fans on twitter will notice that he adds Never Be Alone back to the setlist that night, and that his hands are shaking, but somehow he’s more present. You could say a part of him maybe knew she was watching that night. Or maybe it was fate. Maybe it was a coincidence. Who knew?

“I wrote this song when I was sixteen. And sometimes I think I’ve only gotten dumber over the years because sixteen year old me seemed to be so much better with words. When you love someone...and you can’t make it work...and it’s your fault, it can seem like there’s no way to fix it. Like there’s nothing to do to make it all better. Even if that’s all I want. This song is...it’s for you, sweetheart. I love you.”

The crowd goes crazy, but y/n couldn’t move if you asked her. She was kind of frozen.

I promise that one day I’ll be around. I’ll keep you safe, I’ll keep you sound.

Right now it’s really crazy and I don’t know how to stop or slow it down.

Take a piece of my heart, and make it all your own

So when we are apart, you’ll never be alone

He gets choked up playing it, and lets the crowd take over for the last chorus, but she’s in her living room surrounded by packing boxes and duct tape just completely breaking down. It wasn’t just that the song fit perfectly but that there was a history there for them.

Shawn slips out of bed and reaches for his underwear to pull over his hips. When he grabs the sweatpants too, Y/n knows that their done in bed and can’t help the whine that comes out of her throat.

“C’mon. We’ve been making love all morning. I wanna play for you now.” He says, eye soft and curls fluffy.

He’s got love bites and hickeys all over his neck and chest and y/n doesn’t quite understand why they’re getting out of bed again, but he smiles and holds her in his arms when she pulls on panties and her bra. His hands, large and warm curve over her hips and down the back of her thighs as if she is truly something to behold. He’s staring at her not just like he loves her but like he’s only got eyes for her and nothing else in the world. When she makes any movement at all, his eyes are right there taking in every piece of flesh, every piece of hair, every smile. She’s never felt so adored. And he’s never felt so willing to give all of himself to someone before.

“Baby you’re so...I’m running out of words now.” He whines skimming his fingers over her belly. “Just so goddamn beautiful. How did I get this lucky?”

Her cheeks start to heat up and she looks down at the floor and he can’t stand to have her eyes not on his for even a second, so he tugs at her chin. He kisses her because even though they’ve been in bed touching since they woke up, it’s a hunger that’s never quite satisfied.

“Guess we just found each other.” She whispers. “Like I’m yours and your mine and it just was meant to be like that.”

“Mine.” He murmured tugging her playfully against him.

“Mine.” She says just as aggressively.

He takes her to the piano and runs his fingers over the keys. He doesn’t even have anything in mind, but something about that morning, about that moment just has the music running through his veins. He’s gotta get it out. So he looks at her and just lets his fingers follow in the hopes that they’ll get it right. And somehow, they do.

Never Be Alone feels right, even if he almost never wants to play his own stuff in fear of being cheesy, so he runs with it. She’s got her chin on his shoulder and she smells like fucking lavender and sweat and his apartment and he’s never felt so possessive, so just in desperate need to have all of someone before.

When you miss me close your eyes, I may be far but never gone

When you fall asleep tonight, just remember that we lay under the same stars.

Take a piece of my heart, and make it all your own

So when we are apart, you’ll never be alone.

“That’s so pretty.” She smiled kissing his bicep. “You were sixteen when you wrote that?”

He nods softly, fingers still playing and eyes completely and fully drawn to her.

“Jeez, Mendes. So sappy. Can it still be for me even if you wrote it for someone else?”

“You can have all of it. It’s yours already.”

“So I'll never be alone aye? Never?”

He shakes his head and reaches to kiss her again.

“Not if I can help it, honey. Never.”

***

Shawn runs off the stage that night with a different level of energy. He completely ignores the towel that they throw at him and runs straight for his phone instead. There’s a clarity in his mind after the show, after his fingers had played every note and he’d gone through every vocal. He knows what he wants and he knows what he’s willing to give up for it.

“Shawn… You can’t keep calling me. You don’t get to do that anymore.”

Her voice is wet, and he knows that she’s been crying in the same way that he used to be able to go and knock on her door when she was stressed out without even a text. He’s got to fix it. He’s tired of putting them both through hell when none of it does any good. He just wants her entirely.

Maybe won’t you take it back? Say you were trying to make me laugh.

“I need to know...If I canceled this tour, if I flew home to you right now could you ever forgive me for the pain that I caused? Could we ever be together again?”

“I...What are you even saying right now? This was your fucking choice.”

“Don’t argue with me. Don’t run away. Don’t deflect. Just this once. Just tell me how you feel. If you say yes I’m on the next plane. It’s as simple as that.”

“I would never ask you to come home and cancel your entire tour that you worked so fucking hard for. That’s ridiculous!”

“I’m not asking if I should cancel anything. I’m asking if there’s still something for me to come home to. Right now. Not a year from now”

And nothing has to change today. You didn’t mean to say I love you

He waits on the other end of the line, still dripping sweat and peering over as members from his team are eyeing him in confusion. He should be doing cool downs, should be doing check ins with the crew about the sound from the show, but who the fuck cared? How the hell was he meant to go through every day of his life knowing that the woman he left back home was it for him, that he may have just found his soulmate and he was letting her go for a tour that he wouldn’t even be able to really, truly enjoy without her.

She takes a deep breath and his heart hammers in his chest and he just wants to tell her that he loves her, that he’d do anything to take it all back. When she speaks it’s like a wave, a wave that creeps up slowly along his ankles harmlessly at first.

“No, Shawn. There’s not.”

And then the wave swallows him whole.

I love you. And I don’t want to.

Feel free to buy me ko-fi so I can keep writing. The support means the world to me. Thank you. Taglist: @kitykatnumber @lou-and-me @ourlittleshawnie @mutuallynotmutual @wanderingmendes @peacedolantwins2 @chels-nyc @@illloveyouforever1 @justbeingoceana @grittyisathot @hayyitsfayy @claredolphinbear24 @september-lace @grittyaho @literallyshawn @mchutchmendes @liliane106 @iloveshawnieboi @samwillllson @trappedinfairytales

#shawn mendes #Shawn mendes fic #Shawn mendes fanfic #Shawn mendes fanfiction #Shawn mendes series #Shawn mendes angst #Shawn mendes au #Shawn mendes one shot #Shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes smut #Shawn mendes x you #Shawn mendes x y/n #Shawn mendes x reader #Shawn mendes x fat reader #Shawn mendes x thick reader #neighbors fic

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whatshockey · 5 years

Text

slow dancing in the dark - k.k.

A KASPERI KAPANEN IMAGINE.

in which what was supposed to be a goodbye declared in the dead of night ended up being stretched into the following morning

song used for inspiration: “SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji

word count: 3,909

warnings: mentions of alcohol, some smut and cursing, and breaking off things for good type of thing. overall just really angsty i’m sorry lol

a/n: i promise that i won’t only do song fics but this song grew on me late one night and this is my first time attempting anything raunchier than kissing lmao

Her eyes bled sorrow and throat swelled in heartbreak. Another sob shook through her frame, leaving her knees quivering on the porcelain tile of the bathroom floor, bending further into his lap with every chill down her spine. Her lips cracked and knuckles dampened from attempting to keep her tears hidden, palms heavy as she gripped his shirt collar with the feeling of regret already beginning to creep in. “Stop it,” her mind scolded, and she really did want to. But her voice was drowned out by his dangerously reassuring whispers of, “Shh, it’s okay” and “I’ve got you, baby.”

Only four hours ago, she’d been camouflaged in the buzzing streets of Toronto, forcing her lips together in attempts to form something that resembled a smile. The large jacket hung off of her back, and months ago a last name could’ve been found blanketing his shoulder blades, one that did not match the man’s whose hand held her’s. She could still faintly smell his scent lodged in between the pairing of the worn out fleece and denim, but at times wondered if she had imagined it all, cursing herself for thinking about the same scent lingering on her pillowcase when she was in the company of another man.

Scotiabank Area couldn’t feel more cold, despite the thousands packed and seated dressed in variations of blue. It had only been their third date and somehow her heart had managed to wedge another blade in between her breaths, slowly digging further into her chest as the minutes ran by. Her eyes flickered to the suite that was surely full of the women that, at one point in her life, she could’ve considered sisters. She allowed her mind to wander back to the nights she’d spend in there cheering on her favorite person in the world, whereas now the new couple, although she avoided referring to it as such, sat uncomfortably close to the ice. The sounds of blades carving the sheets of ice echoed before her, and her pulse heightened at the mere glimpse of his jersey, one she’d worn many times before. Before he’d claim that he’d always be able to spot her even if she was in the midst of millions, and she’d wondered if he still looked for her in the crowd, or if he simply stopped caring to do so at all. What would he think if he saw her, at his own game, wrapped in the arms of a stranger who probably couldn’t keep up with the sport himself if he tried.

Her lips curled, finding the irony of the situation amusing. Karma was certainly a bitch, and she almost wanted to laugh at her own stupidity. She had allowed her date to drag her into a bar later that night. The same one where she had shared a heated kiss pressed up against a bathroom stall, a vein-covered hand moving to unbutton her jeans. She felt her cheeks burn as she was ushered into the club with a far less calloused and muscular arm against her back, and internally blamed the contrast of the temperature outside rather than the memory of another doing the same. Her date’s arm never left her waist, even as the two sat down on the stools and he’d pulled his close enough so that their entire sides were squeezed together, lips ghosting over her ear as he made a mediocre joke in which she forced herself to laugh to.

Her date attempted to gain the bartender’s attention, but he had noticed them immediately, recognizing the shine of her hair even in the dimmed lights of the club. He’d addressed her by her first name, earning a confused look from her date. However, she managed to ignore his stare as she ordered two of her regulars, and refrained from referring to it as such. Explaining to her date how much she’d frequented this bar with a man he could never compare to was not on her agenda for the evening. And neither was gossiping about their colleagues from work, which he had turned the conversation to and she had no interest in amusing as their drinks were placed before them. The two had met a company party, never interacting before as they worked in separate departments. She particularly avoided her male colleagues, knowing to never make her professional life messy if she could. However, he’d been the most attractive one there, and perhaps the most attractive man she’d seen in a while, and as much as she’d preferred a certain edge she was used to on a man, her would-be date was now her ex. And her coworker’s dress pants seemed to fit particularly tight at his groin in a way that she couldn’t help but admire.

“Uh,” he cut in, looking over her shoulder as she attempted to navigate the conversation onto the latest project she’d been working on, her eyes narrowing at his interruption. “Sorry, but are those the leafs?”

It had been surprising he even spotted them, seeing as the club had been packed with sweaty bodies in short dresses and ripped jeans grinding against each other or stumbling to down two more shots of vodka. It had been even more surprising that they had even attended such a place post their big win for the night. The city’s heroes usually opted for a far more elite establishment even on their off days, taking over the VIP section with expensive liquor at their lips and beautiful women at their sides.

What hadn’t been surprising, however, was finding her ex boyfriend and a girl with a siren-like gaze hanging off of him, dressed in a deep red dress that made her skin glow gold. She could tell that even with heels, the woman would tower over her frame, offering a much envied advantage when bruising his neck with her full lips, painted so that they’d match the fabric stretched across her breasts and hips.

They had all already been facing her as she turned around. She’d avoided looking at his face, knowing very well that it would only take one second under his eyes to have her coming undone, but whether she’d run into his arms or out of the door, she did not know. Will had been the first to acknowledge her with something other than a blank stare, grinning almost instantly as their eyes briefly met, and he’d already been at his feet approaching her. She wondered why others hadn’t protested against it, and what had been going through her date’s mind as she could feel his arm freeze in place along her hips. She wasn’t sure if she really cared about what exactly he thought of her in the moment as he watched her with a shocked stare, but she shook away from his grip and leaned out to greet her old friend who’d outstretched his arms. The two had grown awfully close over the last year, which only made her hurt more while he helped her as she packed up her things from his teammate’s apartment.

Freddie had been next, sending her a small smile and quick kiss on the cheek. He’d become quite a comforting presence to be around, always available for a good conversation or comfort when her boyfriend was injured. She hadn’t noticed him following, instead catching eyes with Auston, who sent her a tight-lipped smile and casual nod, and continued to hold onto the girl on his lap who was just as attractive as the other. She wish she could bring herself to fearlessly stare down the last leaf, but instead opted to turn her focus back onto the two towering over her. She could still picture the countless messages he’d received from other girls during their run, her own mind replaying the images of their bodies twisted in flattering angles and perfectly lined eyes. He’d never reply, but she almost wished he did so she could prepare for this moment, because he was undoubtedly talking to one of them now. Hadn’t any of the other inhabitants of the bar noticed them yet? It felt as if they were the only ones in there.

The same arm from before wrapped itself around her frame and she fought the urge to roll her eyes, refusing to introduce the two to her plus one. The more time she spent around him, the more he clinged on, and she was left missing the large hand that would cup the flesh of her thighs under the table at team dinners, the same would that would wrap around her throat in their bedroom afterwards. Despite how delicious the man from work looked with his sleeves rolled up, his arms were left bare, and no art could be used as stencils for her love bites to trail her tongue across.

Her thighs clenched at the thought, but the feeling quickly left as she felt the vibrations from the voice next to her speaking, congratulating the two men on the game.

“We were at the game,” he’d mentioned, her stomach lurching as he squeezed her side tighter. “It was, like, really crazy.”

She secretly thanked Freddie, who’d been eyeing her for enough time to know she was growing uncomfortable, quickly thanking her date and steered the conversation away. Will, on the other hand, looked at her expectantly, as if she’d introduce them at a shudder from his hard glare. She shook her head, knowing very well the boy would prounce back to his former roommate and share every detail of their encounter with him. And she was unfortunately very aware what the outcome would be upon the announcement of the fact that she still attended their games.

The players eventually bid a goodbye, final hugs exchanged, and made her promise to catch up over a lunch with them soon. Her date practically reeked of curiosity, and laid out a simple answer to his question before he could ask.

“We met through a mutual friend.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, but she hadn’t wasted time to feel guilty. She’d begun pouring more alcohol into her system, mind buzzing from everything that had taken place over the past five minutes. She felt as if she had just ran a marathon, and didn’t know if she’d ever see the finish line. But more than anything, she didn’t want to feel like looking on the opposite end of the bar any longer.

Within the next hour, her vision clouded and the four men were long forgotten, making her question whether they were imagined in the first place. The date’s hand now resting lower, lips stretching to fill the space between them as he leaned down to capture her ear with compliments on her outfit tonight. He’d been used to seeing her in pencil skirts and cigarette pants, the recent college grad being the hottest topic amongst the male employees. However, the dip of the neckline and hug of her jeans left her drowning in praises with eyes trailing over every inch of visible skin.

She didn’t complain. Perhaps it was due to alcohol replacing the blood in her veins, or solely due to the fact that it had been some time that she’d been laid. Nonetheless, she excused his blatant advances, entertaining the possibility of sleeping with the same man who’d made his first move through buying her a coffee during his lunch hour that at the time she’d thought was lame. Maybe it was time she lowered her expectations.

It hadn’t been her fault, that she’d known clear as day. With how close she had been sitting to her date, the two barely took up space for one person. However, she suddenly felt a harsh nudge at her back, lunging her forward to collide with her date’s chest, which caused her to reach out and push away to see who her attacker was.

She began apologizing out of instinct, until her eyes focused and ears curled at the sound of a silky, dangerously low voice that nearly sent her flying over the bar counter itself.

“My bad,” his voice rang arrogantly, licking his full lips perfectly pink. “Didn’t see you there.”

Her eyes locked onto hazel eyes, ones that felt so familiar as they enveloped her, to his pouted lips in a cocky smirk, and finally to the tattooed arm that grasped her forearm as if he was steadying her, completely aware of the fire that shot up her arm as he held her in a firm grip.

A choked noise erupted from her chest, and the man leaned back to size up her own date as well.

“Pretty girl you got here.”

And with his kind, yet backhanded remark, he turned his back and left, palm lingering on her wrist a bit longer than the rest of his body had.

With a pale face and spine on the verge of shaking, she felt as if she had just seen a ghost. The entire unexpected encounter left her in chills, yet her skin still burned where he had touched her. It couldn’t be home, no way. She definitely had too much to drink.

Until her date spoke up in a much less shocked tone than he had before, voicing her thoughts all while confirming her fears.

“Okay,” he started chuckling lightly, then took a deep breathe nearly as big as her’s. “Was that Kappy or am I just going crazy?”

Maybe it was just a guy who looked like him, she thought. Surely, he’d left with his conquer of the night, or perhaps even with Auston and the two would switch off after a few rounds. He’d do anything before speaking to her, wouldn’t he?

It wasn’t until she looked over her date’s shoulder, who sat sipping on only his second drink (he wanted to drive her home, after all) and yet once again, connected eyes with the devil himself. He held her there, frozen, with such a challenging stare that her heartbeat replaced the bass of the speakers. He allowed one eye to drop down in a sly wink, tongue darting to the corners of his mouth as he drank in her silhouette for a final time, and turned his back once again, finally out of the club with no other girl in sight.

The two left not too long after that. She’d mentioned she suddenly felt sick, thinking that the alcohol had gotten to her and apologized for wanting to go home, although she wasn’t sorry in the slightest. His cologne began to invade her senses and his hold on her made her feel trapped, causing her to grow nauseous and wish she’d been pressing her face into the firm chest of another man. One who had held her hair back the first time she was this drunk in his presence, and the same one who told her he’d fight for her regardless of the competition.

The thing is, he loved to play games. And never though to play fair. Sure, on the ice he followed the rules and earned his spot as a crowd favorite. However, anywhere else, he was in control, and she scolded herself for being so naive. She debated with herself while her date helped her into his front seat, pulling her seat belt over her lap and buckled her in, making sure she was comfortable before jogging over to the driver’s side. Had it been any other day, she’d thank him, maybe even swooned. However, her head throbbed saying one name over and over, and it wasn’t his.

She gave him directions, ignoring the way his palm crept up her knee, knowing that the other man she kept thinking about would’ve rubbed small loving circles with his thumb on the inside of her thighs. It wasn’t long before she found themselves driving along a familiar street, lights glaring on the sidewalk she spent many nights on, hand in hand with someone who at the time she considered, above all, her best friend. Although she hadn’t realized until that exact moment, she wondered if it had been unintentional at all, as she lived on the other side of the city yet automatically told him to go this way. And even went as far as telling him to pull up to a luxury apartment building she no longer could call her’s, never thinking once to stop herself before she made a stupid decision.

She leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek, waving off his pleas to “make sure she got up safely” thinking this is where she lived. As sweet as he was, it wasn’t what she craved, and she wish she’d lost her appetite by the time she was knocking on the man’s door.

He’d welcomely opened it, almost as if he’d been waiting for her, and was conveniently shirtless with sweatpants hanging low. He met her lips expectantly as she threw herself on him, arms wrapping around his shoulder and fingers raking through his hair, holding on as if he would be stripped away from her in a heartbeat. She didn’t care that his pretentious neighbors could pass by any minute, because all she wanted to see, feel and hear was him. He groaned into her mouth, teeth clashing as he grabbed onto everything that he could with her chest pressed up against him. First her hips, then ass, and finally the back of her thighs as he carried her from the doorway, kicking it closed with his heel and moved them further into the apartment.

He pushed her against a wall, hands moving under his shirt to cup her breasts and bite at her neck, everywhere his lips fell left her scorching and writhing under him, merciless to his touch. She’d been moved and backed up again, this time with no clothes remaining and lips replacing where her’s had been. He mirrored her, grinding his naked body against her before reaching over and turning on the shower over their heads, water racing down the valley in between her breasts as he leaned down to lick it away. She knew he could still smell her coworker’s cologne on her, and wanted to tell him that his own musk was indescribably intoxicating, but could only manage a strangled moan as her trailed his lips farther down her body.

“You looked so good out there tonight,” she gasped as she felt him move his hand down to cup her heat, to which he replied by thrusting two fingers into her.

“I know.”

She had so much to say to him. She’d been rehearsing on her way up in the elevator. Yet as his fingers curled, she found herself shaking in seconds, begging him to continue as he teased her.

“Always such a fucking good girl for me,” he growled into her neck, sucking onto a particularly soft spot that she assumed no other man would ever be able find. His teeth scraped against her pulse, and she shook, unraveling and shaking, knowing she’d have fallen over if it wasn’t for him holding her up.

As she came down from her high, she could feel her chest tighten, making her collapse against him in exhaustion and full realization of what she was doing. He’d been so nonchalant during their encounter beforehand, and she questioned whether she’d known him at all. She’d ran back like a sick puppy, asking for attention and celebrating in it as if he didn’t plan to put her up for adoption the next day. And yet, she didn’t want to stop, nor could if she even wanted to.

Her sobs were muffled by his chest, as he quickly turned off the tap and moved to encompass her in his arms, wrapping her in a towel and sitting her on his lap as she shook in despair, coughing on her own cries and shifting to stop her from aggressively rubbing her eyes from stripping her vision away.

“Kas,” she weeped, clutching onto him, knowing that she’d leave before the day breaks and the two continue to pretend that they don’t know each other, and that they don’t care about each other in the slightest.

That couldn’t be farther from the truth, and she knew this as he carried her to the bed, moving her so that she rested on the plush pillows and rubbed her thighs in the most soothing manner. She didn’t know how many more apologies and promises she needed to hear before she could breathe again, but her chest tightened at the sight of him gently kissing the small ink on her ankle, one she’d spontaneously gotten with him only after knowing each other for six weeks.

He continued to move up her legs, and the rest of the night went on as the two continued to re-learn and memorize every inch of each other’s bodies, spending extra time fawning over the way each other’s lips molded together and their bodies fit like puzzle pieces. He eventually collapsed on her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as she swallowed the tears that threatened to pool over again.

“Please stay.”

He had whispered it into her hair, and it had been so soft, she wondered if he’d even said anything at all.

Yet she did, and didn’t want to think about why as wrapped a leg over his and he pulled her even closer than before.

The two never slept that night, instead choosing to bask in each other’s warmth and mixed scent sticking and coating their skins. No more words were exchanged, and she held her breath, slowing her heartbeat down to match his. And even after climaxing more times than she ever had before, she craved for him to be closer in every way possible. And for once, she finally knew he felt the same.

The sun began to peak out from his curtains, ones that she’d picked out when they first moved in together. Slow sliding down his frame, she once again attempted to leave the bed, cringing at the cold air as she lifted the blanket just enough to stretch a leg out to the floor. Before she could place a foot down, an arm reached out to grab her waist, pulling her back into the bed as the sheets twisted at their connected hips.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he grumbled, pressing his face into her neck as the raspiness scratched at her ears.

She combed her fingers through his hair, sighing as she looked at the time on the clock already quickly approaching noon. Her head pounded and his weight crushed her, yet she felt far more comfortable than she had in awhile.

“Home,” she shrugged, only to be met with a confused daze, eyebrows furrowed as he moved to sit on his elbows, pushing her hair behind her ears.

He hadn’t said anything in response, moving to lift the blanket and settle in between her thighs again, reminding her of the times she’d wake up beside him every day and what they had entailed, and she wondered if he was just mocking her all along.

It was clear that neither wanted another friend in the lives, knowing very well that the two of them could never stay as such. Instead, they waited, and waited, and continued to wait until the day that their “just one more night” finally turned into their final night. And oh, what a tragedy that was.

#kasperi kapanen #kasperi kapanen imagine #kasperi kapanen imagines #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl smut #toronto maple leafs #maple leafs #smut #auston matthews #william nylander #freddie anderson #kappy

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queensdivas · 5 years

Text

My Son

Word count: 1.8K.

Storyline: Gwils mum has always told him that his dad could bring the masses to their feet. He knew that his father was Brian May since he was born. So when Bohrap was casting, he was given the role obviously. Brian May never heard of Gwil before in his life till the moment they walked into the trailer. Will they form a father and son relationship?

Authors Note: Okay so this idea was really cute when it was asked to me and I wanted to write it as fast as I could for everyone! I hope you enjoy! @rawyld for this marvelous idea because it was so damn fun to write! Please send in request and if you want to be added in the taglist just let me know!

Coming onto the set of the Live Aid was making Brians heart sore, but also aching a little bit because of Freddie and John not being here. He wished those two goofballs would be here watching the magic happening again before their eyes. The crew members were rushing around again as they walked over to the trailer where the bohrap boys were staying in. Roger had a plan to intimidate this kid named Ben Hardy who would be playing him. Brian had a completely different plan by just seeing what this kid can do on guitar and portraying this hair of his. Roger climbed up the tiny stairs for him to bang on the trailer door. Rami opened the door while laughing at something Joe said to end up having the door slammed in their face.

“HOLY SHIT IT’S THEM!” Someone yelled as the door opened again with Roger and Brian chuckling.

“Please come in!” Rami smiled, moving out of the doorway then the rest of the boys stood up and gave them warm smiles. But you could feel their nervousness radiating like a space heater.

“My name is Rami Malek, that doofus over there is Joseph Mazzello or Joe for most of us. Ben Hardy over there and Gwilym Lee.” Rami pointed everyone out then Brian made eye contact with Gwil. On the outside he gave everyone a smile, a nod, and how eager he was that they’re making this movie. On the inside. Well..completely different story. Brian was beginning to do some math in his head since this Gwil guy resembled him way too easily. He has to be around 33 or 34 at the moment. Maybe. He sat down on the couch next to the kid as he noticed he was studying the chords for one of the songs.

“Mr.May. If I might ask you a question?” Gwil asked as Brian scooted a little closer to notice his eyes were the same color as his and that his nose was a direct copy of his. That math was going much faster in his head. 19..1982 or 1983 when he screwed that one lady after the show in Lancaster. He couldn’t remember if he worse protection that night and was now trying to remember.

“Ask away Mr. Lee.” Brian smiled as Gwil grabbed his guitar and began to position his fingers for each chord.

“Now when you play. I notice that your hands sort of do this sort of curl to them..is that how you do it?” He noticed the form of his hand to see that he also had the long fingers. Jesus did he not use protection that night?

“Exactly like that. But a little more with the pinkie there.” Brian held up his pinkie a little more and it was an exact replica. He needed to speak to this kid before the day was out since this was way too much of a coincidence in Brian's eyes at least.

A crew member came into the trailer a few minutes later to gather up the boys so they could start shooting Crazy Little Thing Called Love. Brian and Roger said there goodbyes as another crew member showed them where they could stand and watch the show.

“So Bri. What do you think of those kids?” Roger asked as they followed the crew member to stage right.

“They seem very nice and eager to make the movie. Hopefully with this opening scene it will go nicely.”

“I will say they did an amazing job with the casting. Especially with Gwil.” Roger knew. Oh he knew as soon as he set eyes on Gwil. It was bluntly obvious to him since he had been in this situation before. Turns out the kid wasn’t even his but still to the point.

“Very impressed.” Brian and him stood on stage left with him pulling out his phone to record the scene. We know how much Brian loves recording almost every moment he can. They began working on the scene and Brian was completely blown away by how Gwil was playing the guitar, and doing that step move we all know and love. Is this his son? A son he had absolutely no idea even existed?

Gwil and Brian became close during the days of filming Live Aid and well. It really shook Brians core since Gwil had very similar passions in life. Loved astrophysics, was donating most of his money to humanitarian societies in the world, and enjoyed talking about guitars.

Ridge Farm studio was the next scene that Brian decided to come visit, and was asked by the director so he could personally record the guitar solo for the movie. Bringing Red Special with him so that Gwil could personal pretend to play the solo.

He opened the door to the recording booth where Rami was rereading his script while Gwil was out in the studio itself working on more of the chords. They greeted Brian with hugs and high fives then Gwil waving from the studio. The director told Brian what the idea was and of course Brian was all for it.

Brian walked into the studio and the nostalgia hit him right in the gut. It looked almost exactly like the studio back in 75. His heart became a little heavy till Gwil walked up with his Red Special prop with a little hop in his step.

“Brian! My friend! Tell me that isn’t her.” Gwil was even more eager than Brain in that moment. He nodded while putting the case down on the table to pull the baby out. Putting the strap around his neck then the memories of the day recording the solo was playing before him again.

Those huge headphones sitting on top of his curls, so many chords tangled around him, and a pair of pink bunny slippers on his feet. It got cold sometimes in that studio. He remembers Freddie wearing that blue shirt, constantly replaying the solo and Rogers falsetto moments.

“You okay mate?” Gwil asked, putting his hand on Brian's shoulder.

“I’ll be alright son. Now let’s shoot this bad boy.” Brian plugged in the guitar to the amp and Gwil took a step back. His fingers began shredding as if he was recording it for the first time in his life! His heart was soaring ever higher than he even imagined in this moment, it was happening all over again.

Mum always did say my true dad was a rockstar that would make the masses fall to their feet. For thirty five years I watched his shows, his interviews, and every single video I could find of my dad. This is the closest I’ve ever stepped foot to him and I’m still not quite sure how I should handle this. Should I tell him?

The guitar solo finished as Gwil moved back over to Brian as they looked at each other for a moment, both releasing that they’ve been wanting to ask that question yet too nervous to even ask each other.

“The operatic section.” They both said while nodding to the recording booth. Both faces of anticipation, excitement, and a little bit of sentimental.

“Good.” Both in sync again as the director yells cut. Everyone clapped, cheered, and Gwil looked upon his dad with such joy. Brian looked upon his son with contentment.

“Shall we go for a walk?” Brian suggested with Gwil nodding his head.

Walking out of the house, they began walking down the muddy road in silence at first as they tried to figure out how to start this conversation. Just head straight into the field or slowly ask the question.

“Mum always said that my dad was a true rockstar, yet failed to mention that it was you Brian.” They stopped at the fence line where they watched a few cows grazing in the field. Brian let out a long sigh, rubbing his hands together trying to keep himself from crying.

“Gwil..I’m..”

“Don’t apologise Brian. You had no idea in the first place since my mom didn’t even try to tell you about it. She said that if she did, she would be forced into a marriage that wouldn’t last a lifetime.” His mum was now appearing in Brian's memory. Her name was Esther and was a groupie for the guys during the tour in 81’. At the time, Brian and Chrissie were in a little bit of a rough patch and Esther was a perfect target to release the stress of touring, marital issues, and the rest of the problems of the world. Even after the tour ended he went one last time to her home and said his final goodbye with a night of drunk yet sweet passionate love making.

“Your mother definitely had a very special place in my heart during that time in my life Gwil. Just wish she would’ve told me now..so I would’ve been apart of your life.” Brian's eyes began to water a little bit with the image of Gwil as a child, not being in his life broke his spirit since all of his kids had some sort of childhood with him.

“She told me that...that year she was with Queen was the best part of her life and wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Well after me being born obviously. If she knew that I was playing you in this movie, I think she would be here every day watching me perform you.” Brian turned his head to him to see Gwils eyes also watering slowly. A small sniffle came from Gwil as he rubbed the coat sleeve against his eyes.

“I’m so sorry Gwil...I should’ve..I shou..” Brian began sobbing as they pulled into each other body for a very tender hug. His hand cupped the back of Girl's head while Gwil held onto him a little tighter. His first embrace with his dad, and he was standing next to cow shit. But it couldn’t be even more perfect.

“Don’t you dare start Dad! You didn’t know and mom wanted us to have a normal life! It’s not your fault!” Gwil was trying to speak but was trying to breath from the sudden sobbing.

“I know but I should’ve checked in on her everyone once in a while! She was a close friend of mine who I left in the dust. From now on Gwil, you and I are going to be more unstoppable than..than..

“I don’t know..but can I call you dad? Not in front of the boys but..at least one on one?”

“Of course my son..of course!”

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marvelmadam08 · 5 years

Text

Heartbeat

Part of 100 Days of Marvel

Prompt 27: She’s making a run for it/ Prompt 51: I have a heartbeat

Warnings: Angst, swearing, difficult pregnancy and childbirth, slight fluff at the end

A/N: I swear I saw the GIF of him crying then I started crying. Sorry if I made anyone else cry.

~~~~~

You groaned loudly and painfully, something was wrong, you just knew it. Each contraction was worse than the last, your nurse tried to keep you calm until your husband got there but nothing helped.

“Where is he?” you cried, clutching onto Anthony’s arm.

You were early, three weeks early to be exact. Anthony was checking in on you when it happened, he found you bent over the couch, using it to support yourself, and practicing your breathing techniques. Who knows how things would’ve ended if he wasn’t there to take you to the hospital. You had gotten to the hospital in record time, the room was ready, and everything was going as according to plan except for your missing husband and the underlying sense of danger you felt.

“I’m sure he’s almost here.”

“No, something’s wrong Mack. I know it.” You rubbed soothing circles on your stomach “Go find him.”

“I don’t think I should leave.”

“Fine, then I’ll look for him.” you went to sit up but was forced back to the bed when another contraction ripped through your body. You clamp down on his hand, digging your nails in “Where’s the fucking doctor! I need her now. I’m telling you something is wrong.”

“You gotta breathe, your blood pressure is extremely high right now.” the nurse warns you, but you ignore her

“I heard there was an accident not too far from here. What if it’s him? Mack, please go find him.” tears were streaming down your face now

You, Anthony and the nurse turned to the door when it opened. Your husband was panting, he’d been running for the last five blocks trying to get to the hospital. The accident causing a major traffic jam, with no other choice he got out and ran the rest of the way. He’s pretty sure the car is gonna get towed for blocking a lane, but right now he could care less.

“You’re late.”

“And you’re early.”

Sebastian rushed over to the bed, nearly pushing Anthony out the way. He kissed the top of your head, but you screamed in response. The beeping on the heart monitor increased, your grip on Sebastian’s hand started to slip. Everything starts to go in and out of blackness.

“Someone get a doctor in here!” you heard the nurse yelling

“Baby?....What’s happening?”

“Placental abruption.... her blood pressure is too high.”

“Emergency C-section.”

“.....Seb....”

Someone placed an oxygen mask over your face.

“I’m right here.” Sebastian’s voice echoed, you could only see his eyes. He was crying.

“She’s losing a lot of blood.”

“...can’t.... baby’s heart rate..... dangerously low.”

“Baby?” you could hear the sobs in his voice “Dragostea mea ... rămâneți cu mine ... vă rog.” (My love... stay with me... please.)

“I have a heartbeat.”

Sebastian replayed the video on his phone of you at five months pregnant, singing to the small bump. You were swaying to your own voice, smile as bright as the day he met you.

You thrill me, you delight me You please me, you excite me You're are all that I've been yearning for I love you, I adore you I lay my life before you I only want you more and more And finally it seems my lonely days are through I've been waiting for you

‘What song is that?’ he asked over the video

‘I’ve been waiting for you by ABBA. I’m gonna sing it when we meet our little girl. And for every single baby we have.’

‘You gonna learn how to sing it on key by then?’

You stuck your tongue out at the camera, before turning to the side to show off your baby bump again.

‘You like my singing don’t you sweetie? Daddy’s just jealous.’

He sat in silence while you continued to sing, wiping another tear away when the video stopped.

After all this time, he still couldn’t get the image out of his head, the sight of you lying motionless on that table, the silent newborn in the nurse’s arms, his heart felt icy whenever he thought about it, which was a lot more these days. Two years later, and it weighed on him everyday. He blamed himself, he shouldn’t have left you by yourself. His therapist said he shouldn’t, telling him that feeding off that pain would only cause more trauma.

He hit replay on his phone.

“She’s making a run for it!”

Sebastian looked up from his phone. Anthony chased after his goddaughter, the small brunette giggle each time she ‘escaped’ Anthony’s grasps.

“Daddy he’p.” she jumped into Sebastian’s lap, her tiny arms wrapped around his neck

“What’s up Princess?” he sniffled, wiping away any stray tears

“She doesn’t want to go to bed.” Anthony ruffled her hair

“No bed.” she shooed him away

“Yes bed, otherwise the sleep monsters are gonna get ya!” Anthony pretended to jump at her. She shrieked and held onto Seb even more.

“Alright Mack, I got her.” Sebastian cradled her into his arms, slipping his phone into his pocket

“Watch out for her, she’s slippery.”

“Or maybe you’re just getting old.” Sebastian smirked “Right Princess?”

“Yeah!”

He carried her up to her room, the walls decked out with princess themed wallpaper with tiny castles and crowns across it. She crawled into her bed, it was still a bit big for her, but she’d grow into it. Once she was tucked under her covers and her sleeping toy was chosen for the night, Seb hoped that the rowdy toddler would’ve finally settled down enough to sleep.

“Story Daddy.” she smiled up at him

“No, it’s bedtime.” She lets out a whine, pouting and batty her eyelashes. She has your eyes, Seb could never resist those eyes. “How about a song?”

“Mommy’s song.”

He sniffled again “Yeah we can sing Mommy’s song.”

I, I have known love before I thought it would no more Take on a new direction Still, strange as it seems to be It's truly new to me That affection

Sebastian smiled when he watched her eyes light up, yours would do the same when he sang.

I, I don't know what you do You make me think that you Will change my life forever I, I'll always want you near Give up on you, my dear I will never

You thrill me, you delight me You please me, you excite me You're all that I've been yearning for I love you, I adore you I lay my life before you I only want you more and more And finally it seems my lonely days are through I've been waiting for you

With a loud yawn she closed her eyes, half humming the rest of the song. Anthony watched from the doorway as Seb kissed the top of your daughter’s head and turned off the lamp, only leaving the night light on.

“Goodnight Sabrina.”

She muttered back a response that was cut off by soft, nasally snores.

“You okay man? Kinda look like shit.” Anthony whispered

“Yeah, I know. I’m fine.” he followed Anthony into the hall “Thanks for coming by, she loves hanging out with her Uncle Mackie.”

“It’s godfather to you, you wanna kiss the ring? I’ll make you do it.” Anthony chuckled when Sebastian finally, genuinely, laughed “C’mon I’ll help you clean up.”

They both made their way back downstairs, picking up trails of toys and crayons in their path. Once everything was put away, they settled into the couch each with a beer in hand and exhausted eyes.

“That little girl of yours is a ball of energy. I don’t even think my kids would’ve been able to keep up.”

“Yeah, she’ll give the energizer bunny a run for his money. I wouldn’t trade it for the world though.” Sebastian failed at fighting his loud yawn “Damn, it might be past my bedtime.”

“Does that mean you’re actually gonna get some sleep? Because again, and I say this because I care, you look like shit.”

“C’mon Mack, you know I can’t sleep. I just- can’t.” Sebastian played with the ring on his left hand, tears spilling once more “I keep having this nightmare, she’s there in the kitchen, singing, holding Sabrina, then I turn around and they’re b-both on that goddamn table, or in a casket.”

“Hey, it’s alright man.” Anthony pulled Sebastian in for a hug “It’s okay to not be okay. I learned that from someone.”

“What dumbass taught you that?”

“You did.”

“Seb?” You rubbed your eyes as you walked into the living room, seeing him and Anthony on the couch, tears running down his face and tired eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You shouldn’t be up, the doctor’s said you shouldn’t be on your feet.” Sebastian rushed over to you only to guide you to the couch so you could sit. You were ready to argue with him, but once you sat down the ache in your back and feet let up “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was, but someone woke me up.” you point to your rounded stomach “Your son doesn’t understand that I like sleeping at night with the rest of the world.”

“Speaking of sons and sleep, I should go.” Anthony gives you an awkward side hug before standing “I’ll let myself out. Goodnight y’all.” he placed his hand on your stomach “Night little man.”

You smiled after him, waiting to hear the door close before speaking again.

“Are you sure everything is okay? You’re not hungry? You don’t feel sick or any discomfort?”

“Sebastian, I’m fine.” You rubbed his cheek “You, however, look like shit. When was the last time you slept?”

He sighed and softly laid his hand on your stomach “Around eight months ago.”

“Talk to me Seb, what’s wrong?”

“I watched you die in that room. Your heart stopped, Sabrina wasn’t breathing, I watched everything I love slip through my fingers all at once. And then, after a minute that felt like an eternity and a day, you both just take your first breaths together.” he shook his head “I can’t sleep, I’m always checking on ‘Brina or you and the baby. I’m freaking out every second of the day because I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“That if one heartbeat stops so will the others.”

“Oh Seb, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere and neither is Sabrina.” you cradled his face in your hands “And I’m scared too, when you’re away filming, I try not to think about things that go wrong with planes. Sabrina fell off the bottom step the other day and I practically bubble wrapped her.” You moved one hand top of Seb’s “And when he doesn’t move, even if it’s for five minutes, I hear that nurse saying his heart rate is low. We have everything to be afraid of, but everything to live for too.”

“You are unbelievably brave.” Sebastian’s hands rubbed across your stomach, the baby pushed against him before moving to one side and finally settling down. “Is he asleep?”

“I think so, guess he just missed his Daddy.” you ran your hands through his messy hair “Help me up, I’m going to bed. And you’re coming with me.”

“Yes Ma’am.” Sebastian followed behind you, his hands never left your back or stomach, not even when you slid back into bed. “I’m not holding you too tight am I?”

“No, Seb this is perfect.” you rest your head against his chest “I love you.”

“I love you too.” he pressed his lips to your temple and continued to rub your stomach

You hummed softly, to the baby and to Seb, and for the first time in months he finally got some rest.

#sebastian stan #angst #fluff #bucky barnes #sebastian x reader #anthony mackie #falcon #marvel #fanfic #babygirl #babyblues #100 days of productivity #avengers #james buchanan barnes #sam wilson #family #swearing

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yeppeojiwrites · 5 years

Text

can i? do you? can you?//choi soobin

summary: when it comes to your final marching band season, soobin seems to need a lot of things.

pairings: soobin x female reader

warnings: swearing

word count: 3431

author’s note: i’ve decided to officially stan txt and soobin is SO cute. as a former band kid (i’m still high school but i haven’t been in band since freshman year) i had to give the world a soobin american competitive marching band fic since marching band season is starting soon.

“Can I have a sip of water?” you heard as you lifted your large water container to your lips. You turned to face a sweaty Soobin and rolled your eyes.

“Why didn’t you bring yours?” you asked him, holding out the container.

“I didn’t know we were going outside today!” he said before taking several large gulps of water.

“Hey!” you yelled as you hit his shoulder, causing him to spill a bit of water.

“What?” he asked confused. You snatched the container from his hands.

“You said ‘a sip of water.’ You’ve had more than a sip of water, Soobin.” you responded, closing up the water bottle and sitting it next to your clarinet case.

“Yeah, but it’s hot.” he groaned, laying down on the astroturfed field. You sigh before hitting his leg softly.

“Don’t lay on the field, you’re gonna get the little rubber pieces stuck on you. It’s bad enough that our shoes are full of them.” you scold.

“Let me rest,” Soobin sighed. Suddenly, the whistle sounded, causing the rest of the band to return to the center of the field. Soobin groaned again.

“Come on,” you said, picking up your clarinet and holding out a hand to pull Soobin up. He took it and got up, picking up his own clarinet before walking to his starting position.

“You’re such a good section leader,” Soobin cooed as he poked your cheek.

“Do you have an extra reed?” Soobin asked, leaning over to whisper in your ear as the band director, Mr. Sauros, scolded the trumpet section for not being in tune. You sighed quietly, before pulling your clarinet case onto your lap and opening it. You pulled out your box of reeds.

“I have like five 4 strengths that haven’t been broken in yet and I have one 3 strength that I used last month, which one do you want?” you whispered back.

“Let me use a 4,” he whispered. You nodded before handing him a reed. You watched him stick the new reed into his mouth to moisten it and your eyes widened when they drifted down to his old reed. The tip of the reed was folded outward, Soobin had bitten the reed while it was on the clarinet.

“Dude, what the hell did you do?” you asked him, looking at the broken reed.

“I-I don’t know,” he replied unconvincingly.

(flashback)

As your band director stopped the band for the seventh time to have you replay the part that the trumpet section couldn’t seem to get, you sighed slightly. Soobin’s eyes drifted towards you as you looked at the music stand in front of you. You placed the mouthpiece of your clarinet against your lips again and groaned when you felt a dry reed against your bottom lip. You licked the reed from the part at the top of the ligature to the rounded tip of the reed before placing it in your mouth correctly.

Soobin gritted his teeth at the sight but forgot that he still had the mouthpiece of his clarinet in his mouth. A slight cracking sound came from Soobin’s clarinet, causing you and a few other people to turn and look at him. Soobin immediately looked away from you and at his own music stand. His tongue touched his reed and his eyes widened, both at his reed and the fact that your band director had just lifted his hands to signal for the band to play.

(flashback over)

“Get your shit together before we get yelled at,” you quietly laughed.

“Ms. (Y/L/N) and Mr. Choi, do you have a joke you want to share with the rest of the band?” Mr. Sauros asked, a serious look on his face.

“No, sir. Soobin had broken his reed and I was laughing at how bad it looks.” you responded nervously. Quiet snickers were heard from the band; even the corners of Mr. Sauros’ lips curved up a bit in a smile.

“Don’t let it happen again, Choi.” he looked at Soobin. Soobin nodded, a nervous blush evident on his cheeks.

“Now, trumpets, play measures fifty-six to seventy again. I’m sure the rest of the band is tired of playing the same section over and over again because most of you choose not to practice outside of this band room.” your director said to the trumpet section. “Let’s get it right this time, okay?”

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Soobin tapped you on your shoulder. You turned from the freshman you were helping to look at the tall boy.

“Can you zip this up for me?” Soobin asked you, your marching band’s light blue and white jacket hanging off of the front of his body. You nodded and walked towards him.

“Sure, turn around.” you told him. He did so and you pulled the two zippered ends of the jacket together before pulling the zipper up until it touched the nape of his neck.

You turned him around and adjusted his shoulder buckles and smoothed his sleeves, stopping when you noticed that they stopped just past three-fourths of his forearms.

“Why would you even try this jacket on?” you asked him. He shrugged and his sleeves moved with him, causing you to laugh.

“I picked the first one I saw,” he responded. You shook your head.

“Turn around so I can take off your jacket.” He complied and you swiftly took his jacket off.

“What number is this jacket?” you asked him.

“Forty-six,” he responded.

“I’ll go get a seventy.” you told him.

“I was that far off?”

“Yep!” you told him before leaving him to get a larger size.

You walked through small pods of changing and uniformed band members to the uniform rack.

“Seventy...seventy-one...seventy-two...let’s try a seventy-thr-oh,” you said as your hands met another person’s on the last seventy-three. You looked up to meet the eyes of Beomgyu Choi, the low brass section leader.

“Oh, hey Beomgyu,” you smiled at him.

“Hey, (Y/N).” replied, a similar smile on his face. “Were you going to get this jacket?” You looked down at your hand that was still touching Beomgyu’s on the last seventy-three.

“Yeah...” you replied. Beomgyu’s eyebrows furrowed a bit as he scanned your body.

“A seventy-three is a little big for you, isn’t it?” he asked while wearing a teasing smile. Your eyes widened and you shook your head.

“Oh, this isn’t for me, Soobin picked the wrong sized jacket.” you responded. Beomgyu nodded in understanding.

“You can have it then, I wouldn’t want you to have to give your boyfriend the wrong size.” Beomgyu said, taking the jacket off of the rack and handing it to you.

“Thanks for the concern and the jacket but...Soobin isn’t my boyfriend,” you told Beomgyu as you took the jacket from his hands.

“Oh, he isn’t?” Beomgyu asked.

“No, we’re just friends.” you laughed.

“In that case...do you want to get something to eat after the section leader’s meeting on Saturday?” he asked you.

“I don’t know. Soobin and I were going to go see a movie after the meeting and I don’t want to bail on him,” you responded.

“Then...let’s sit together at the meeting then. I can get you a drink or something from Starbucks or Dunkin’ Donuts if you want,” Beomgyu said, tilting his head to the side cutely. You thought about it for a second before nodding with a smile.

“Okay,” you responded.

“Hey, (Y/N), what’s taking so long?” you heard Soobin’s voice from a couple of feet away. Beomgyu smirked at him over your shoulder before leaning down to whisper, “I think your boyfriend who you claim isn’t your boyfriend is worried about where you are.”

You laughed and pushed him away. “I’ll see later, Gyu.”

You walked over to Soobin and handed him the jacket. He looked at you and back at Beomgyu who was picking up another jacket.

“What did he want?” he asked you as he put his arms through the sleeves. You turned him around so that his back faced you and pulled the zippered ends of the jacket together before zipping it up. He turned around to face you so that you could adjust the shoulder buckles.

“He asked me if I wanted to get lunch with him after the section leader meeting and when I told him that I didn’t want to miss hanging out with you, he suggested that we sit together at the meeting and he’ll get me coffee.” you told him as you smoothed down his sleeves. The sleeves finally met his wrists.

“This looks a lot better,” you nodded.

“What did he whisper to you before you came over?” Soobin asked. You looked over to see Beomgyu looking at the two of you with a smirk on his face. You looked back at Soobin, with a smile on your face.

“Don’t worry about it,” you told him before patting him on his back. “Now let’s get your uniform taken off, bagged, and labeled.”

“Can I come in?” Soobin asked you as the two of you stood in the hallway outside of the room where the section leaders’ meeting would be held.

“It’s section leaders only, Soobin. Maybe if you were more responsible, the underclassmen would have voted for you.” you told him as you poked his shoulder.

“The sophomores and juniors aren’t too fond of me,” Soobin mumbled.

“I wonder if it was because of your little clarinet section hazing ceremonies,” you told him.

(flashback to a pair of identical events that took place in 2017 and 2018)

“Do you want to make sure that the clarinet section helps the band go to regionals this year?” Soobin asked the group of freshmen in front of him. The nod in response to his question.

“Let me hear you say it!” Soobin yelled. Soobin heard some variation of ‘yes’ and ‘yeah’ come from the freshmen.

“In order to do that, you need the best reeds.” Soobin says, pacing back and forth in front of the group.

“If you have 2 and a half strength reeds, bring them over there,” Soobin said, pointing to a metal table. Almost all of the freshmen ran to their clarinet cases and pulled out their reeds, the exception being a boy named Kai, a clarinet prodigy who used 4 strength reeds.

“Kai...at least bring one reed,” Soobin said, causing the boy to go to his case and bring one of his reeds to the table.

“So what do we do now?” Yeojin, a freshman asked.

“Break them,” Soobin said while crossing his arms over his chest.

“Break them?” Kai asked. Soobin nodded.

“High school clarinet sections use 3 strength reeds and above,” Soobin said. “If you want the clarinet section help the band succeed, break your 2 and a half reeds.”

The room filled with sounds of splintering and breaking cane and a sad whimpering sound from Kai as he broke his single reed.

The freshmen came to practice the next day with no reeds and thirty dollars each, begging you to order them 3 strength reeds (and Kai his 4 strength reeds) with your Amazon Prime™ account.

(flashback over)

“They’ve always liked you more than me for that exact reason.” he sighed.

“It was funny when Mr. Sauros yelled at you in front of everyone,” you laughed at the memory.

“No, it wasn’t!” Soobin whined.

“Yes, it was,” Beomgyu said from behind you. You turned around at the sound of his voice. He stood behind you carrying two large iced coffees from Dunkin’ Donuts and a box of Munchkins (if you don’t have a DD, they’re just donut balls).

“Beomgyu.” Soobin greeted the boy with a slight nod.

“Soobin.” Beomgyu greeted with a similar tone and action. They stared at each other, sizing the other up. You sighed from your spot between the two boys.

“Let’s go, Beomgyu.” you said as you tugged the boy towards the room. After making sure that Beomgyu was inside of the room where the meeting was being held, you stuck your head outside of the door to look at Soobin.

“I’ll save you a few glazed Munchkins,” you said told him, causing him to smile.

“No, you aren’t!” yelled Felix, the trumpet section leader, from the inside of the room. You rolled your eyes and smiled at Soobin.

“I’ll be out in like 30 minutes. We can go to the movies right after!” you told him.

“(Y/N), the meeting’s starting soon!” Somi, the color guard section leader said before pulling you into the room and closing the door.

“So, what’s our first order of business?” you asked, sitting down between Beomgyu and Jeno, the flute section leader and band president.

“Do you like Beomgyu?” Soobin asked you as you changed out of your marching uniform on the bus back to your school after your first competition. You look at him to see if he’s serious, and feel your heart sink a bit at his expression. His tired eyes and frowning face is illuminated every time your bus passes a streetlight on while you’re on the highway.

“Soobin...he might like me but I don’t like him in the same way that he likes me.” you tell the boy.

“Then...do you like anyone in the same way that Beomgyu likes you?” he asks you as a follow-up question.

You smile at him.

“I think so.”

“What does that mean?” he asks you.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s one in the morning and I have homework to do today,” you tell him as you lift his arm and cuddle into his side. “Wake me up when we get to the school.”

You miss the smile that covers Soobin’s sleepy face as you fall asleep on the boy. When he pulls you closer into his side, he feels you sigh and sleepily wrap your arms around him to pull him closer to you.

You and Soobin sat next to each other in the stands of the football stadium, listening to an announcer tell yours and the forty other high schools in your region their rankings and the fifteen bands that would make it to the national competition being held in that very stadium just two weeks later. You could feel Soobin shifting nervously in his seat next to you.

“Are you okay?” you asked him.

“C-can you hold my hand?” he asked you. You nodded and picked up his hand from its spot on his leg.

“Nervous?” you asked him.

“Yeah. It’s just the idea that all of our work...everything that we’ve worked hard to achieve...it could be shut down tonight.”

“We performed well tonight, Soobin. Yeonjun made all of his dots, I didn’t squeak during my solo, Yang Yang didn’t miss one note in his part on the bells.” you reassured him. “If we don’t make it to nationals, I will sue the shit out of Bands of America.”

He laughs. Suddenly, you hear the announcer say, “In second place...” your attention is snapped towards the expensive LED screen in the middle of the stadium.

“The Marching Marlins from Morris High School!” echoed through the stadium. Soobin’s grip on your hand tightened. The air was tense as everyone looked at each other. Your band hadn’t been announced yet and there was only one spot left.

“And finally, the band in first place....” you could feel yourself leaning in to hear the announcer’s words.

“...will be announced after this advertisement.” a groan sounded through the stadium as the stadium’s lights dimmed and the LED screens throughout the stadium began to show an advertisement for a new series of Yamaha instruments.

“Ugh, only the percussion section uses Yamaha!” you groaned.

After the commercial ended, the lights in the stadium brightened. You looked at Soobin and squeezed his hand, giving him a nervous smile.

“In first place...(Y/H/S)!” (i’m not creative enough to come up with another high school name)

You looked over at Soobin and smiled.

“I told you we would make it.”

The next week, you found yourself back at the stadium, standing in the middle of the football field. You were surrounded by hundreds of other finalists for the national marching competition with Soobin at your side.

You held Soobin’s hand as you watched the finals competition montage on one of the screens in the stadium, seeing Soobin’s exasperated face at the end of your show on the screen before it changed to a member of a different band.

“You look stupid,” you whispered to him.

“Shut up.” he whispered back with a smile on his face.

Soon after, the montage ended and winners were announced and given medals. As the announcer rattled off places that were closer and closer to the five places, you felt yourself getting more and more nervous as you thought back to your band’s finals performance.

In the finals performance, while getting off of the platform after your solo, one of the legs holding the platform broke, causing you to lose your balance. You fell but quickly got up to move to your place, getting there just after the formation changed again, dragging behind the tempo for a few counts before finally being able to match it on the seventh beat.

You met with the prop engineers right after the performance to see what had happened with teary eyes. The platform had never broken during your practices and you worked with the engineers to do numerous checks. You stomped on it, jumped on it repeatedly, you even had Soobin to jump on it with you, just to make sure that it was sturdy enough. The engineers found that a screw had either fallen out or had been taken out.

You sighed and pulled off your helmet.

“It could only happen at the final performance, right?” you joked with the engineer closest to you, a smile plastered on your face with watery eyes. The man nodded.

“I guess so. You still did an amazing job, kid.” he said, offering a fist towards you. You bumped it and smiled before wiping away your tears.

You were taken back to the present moment as you

“In first place...The Marching Bulls from Toros High School with a score of 99.71! Which means that second place is given to (Y/H/S) with a score of 99.53!” the announcer said.

You sighed but stood still as you received your silver medal from your director.

“We still got an amazing score, (Y/N). The fact that we lost, isn’t your fault. Don’t let anyone in our band or in our stadium or online or elsewhere tell you that we got second place because of you. The judges told me personally that you weren’t penalized.” Mr. Sauros told you. You gave him a small smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Sauros.”

He nodded and smiled at you before moving to the person behind you to give them a silver medal.

After being congratulated, all of the bands were given the right to disperse. Some members of other bands came up to you to congratulate you and tell you that you still did a great job. After a few people came over to talk to you, Soobin taps you on your shoulder and opens his arms to give you a hug.

You enter his arms and wrap your own around him. “It’s the last one, Soobin.”

“You did a great job, (Y/N),” he tells you. You pull away from him and look at his face.

“You think so?” you ask him.

“Of course I do.” he tells you, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Can I ask you something?” Soobin asks. You pull away from him again to look at him.

“Can I, uh, kiss you?” he asks you. You nod before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you. He places his hands on your waist and looks from your lips to your eyes repeatedly.

“I’ll do it myself,” you say before pressing your lips against his.

You hear some ‘oooh’s and cheers as the two of you stand with your lips pressed against each other. You pull away and look at each other with a smile on each of your faces.

“Can I ask a dumb question?” he asks.

“Go ahead.” you respond.

“Do you like me?” he asks. You hit his chest.

“Yes, I’ve been in love with you since sophomore year, dumbass.” you tell him before going to walk away from him. He pulls you back against him and looks at you expectantly.

“What?” you ask.

“Can you kiss me again?” he asks.

You answer his question by pressing your lips against his.

#yeppeojiwrites #txt #txt scenarios #choi soobin #soobin #soobin scenarios #kpop scenarios

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lonelypond · 5 years

Text

Can’t Get Started, Ch. 2

Love Live, NicoMaki, 2.5K, 2/3

Summary: Nishikino Maki vs. Yazawa Cocoro has moved to LA for round 2.

Chapter 2

Nishikino Maki, in a dress that draped like butterscotch sauce, stood next to a vase half her height, full of taller, feathery, ferny flowers, regretting pinning up her hair. There was nothing to do with her non champagne glass holding hand but smooth her dress, which drew too many eyes to her. So she shuffled closer to the plants, wondering how to change their arc so they drooped a little in front of her, providing some cover, until she could figure out where Yazawa Nico might be in this series of rooms. Surprising Nico now seemed less a daring idea than a dangerous one and Maki was getting a headache from trying to sweep the room with her gaze while not making actual eye contact with anyone over Nico’s height. Which had led to one quick encounter with a pair of sea green eyes, but Maki had dodged that quickly enough.

And then a voice cut into her bubble of non conversation, “I loved the touch of ska you brought to the new Alyssa Raghu cover. It’s great to hear a horn section.”

Maki glanced down. The sea green eyes. A smile. Seemed familiar. But out of place.

“I’d love to mix up A-RIse’s sound, but I only get one vote.” A wink.

A-Rise. Tsubasa Kira. Maki found herself nodding, “Add in a producer and that’s even less say.”

A laugh. A light touch of the fair hair, “Exactly. Although, if we were working with someone as talented you, I’m sure we could come to a quick agreement.”

“That’s boring.” Maki said flatly, wondering if she’d just heard Nico’s laugh off her left.

“Oh.” Tsubasa reached forward, moving the fern Maki had been convincing to droop out of the way, “You like a challenge.”

“I like invested, passionate collaborators.”

“Sounds like a good general philosophy.” Tsubasa grinned, “Can I drag a waiter over with hors d’ourves?”

That was definitely Nico’s laugh. Maki found herself stepping forward, trying to get out of her little alcove, but found her conversational partner presenting an obstacle.

“Um…”

“Maki! Tsubasa, I see you’ve met…” And at the sound of Nico’s greeting, Maki spun, arm flying out, Tsubasa hopped back, a waiter stepped left as Maki stepped right, and Nico suddenly found herself under a deluge of margarita glasses. With a variety of colorful flavors, boldly splashed across the delicacy of her delicately monochromatic embroidered ecru gown. Maki gulped, paled, stared into Nico’s eyes and bolted, ignoring both women calling her name.

###

Panic attack? Was that what this was? The racing heart, the replaying the scene in her head, continually hearing Nico call her name. “Maki.” Had that actually been Nico’s voice just now? Maki jumped and saw herself in the mirror, eyes wild, hair nearly standing up where she’d tried to tear it out. She had to get out of there; this was no way to be seen by anyone. Heading for the door, ducking her head, ignoring all the gray and white cooling marble features around her.

She hit an obstacle in the doorway, a frowning Nico with a friendlier glance than Maki expected. “You didn’t have to run off.”

Quick glance down, yes Nico was still covered in the blooming rainbow of margaritas that was going to give Maki nightmares.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” Nico chuckled, her hand casually going to Maki’s elbow in an effort to guide her back into the lounge.

Maki shook off Nico’s hand as she stepped back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I really have to go.”

“You have to go?” Nico’s eyebrow quirked, “They haven’t even started the speeches. You must have been planning to…"

“It’s none of your business.” Maki knew she was rude and blushing and this was awful but how could she stand there and...

“Maki.” Nico’s voice was very tight. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t. This wasn’t how Maki had planned for this evening to go. She’d sweep up to Nico, see Nico’s eyes light up as she followed the curves of the dress Kotori had insisted Maki wear, and then Maki would smoothly answer Nico’s awed questions about her latest composing gig.

Nico chuckled, smiling at Maki, not at all thrown by Maki’s refusal to engage in conversation. “Nico can pull off anything, but Tsubasa’s getting me a spare, this dress is insured in case of accidents, and I’m not upset. Mostly amused.”

Maki sunk down to a crouch, covering her head with her arms. Why wouldn’t Nico just let her leave?

“Nope, not acceptable.” Nico stated as she pulled Maki to her feet, dragged her to a couch, and knelt down right in front of her. Maki felt a sudden frisson go up the back of her neck as she stared down into sparkling jewel eyes and wondered if Nico was going to pull a glass slipper from somewhere.

“It’s not a big deal.” Nico glanced down at the dress. “Makes it pop.”

“I’m a mess.” Maki raked her fingers through her hair, wondering if she could will it back some less crazed state.

“Well, Nico’s dress is an actual literal mess so you look REALLY good in comparison.”

“I said I was sorry.” Maki’s temper was starting to frizzle to match her hair.

“And Nico said it was ok. And that you look good. So listen to Nico.” Nico snapped back.

“I’m a mess.” Maki repeated, head drooping, refusing to be comforted.

Nico snorted, “Yeah, but kind of an adorable one.” And now Nico was back to being too kind. And Maki was going to cry. So she forcibly swiveled herself sideways and crumpled into a little ball.

Nico’s hand was on Maki’s arm, urging Maki to unroll, “C’mon, Nico’ll get a change of clothes, everything will be fine, and we’ll laugh about it with our grandchildren.”

“What!” Maki sprang up, staring at Nico, whose eyes were so close, and full of mischief.

“I knew I could get your attention.” Nico winked, “Hi, Maki, nice to see you here. Nico thought she was going to have a dull evening.”

Maki took a deep breath and forced a half smile, “Hi, Nico. You look…” she giggled, “tasty.”

“Don’t tempt Nico or we’ll have matching dresses.”

Maki leaned forward as she laughed and Nico’s hand slid over hers and..

There was another voice as the door opened, “Hey, Nico, we found you one. Somebody had a quick change for a party.”

Maki jumped back. Nico sighed and spoke over her shoulder. “Thanks, Tsubasa. How am I doing for time?”

“Still good. How’s…”

Tsubasa’s question trailed off as she met Maki’s glare.

###

N: You should have stayed. YOUR dress was fine : P

M: Aren’t you giving a speech right now?

N: Yes.

M:?????????

N: Just finished. Now they want to take pictures but Nico’d rather have a Maki moment.

N: So we good for the Annie Awards after party?

M: Yes. I’ll be back that morning.

N: Tokyo again?

M: Chicago. Best friend’s engagement party.

N: Umi?

M: No, high school friends. Rin and Hanayo. Hanayo’s about to graduate with her Masters in EE. She’s joining some kind of social media music startup. They’ve been dating FOREVER. Rin spent high school inventing embarrassing forms of PDA just to annoy me.

N: Sounds fun. Do they ever come to LA?

M: Rarely. I go back to Evanston a lot.

N: Secret girlfriend?

M: Very public parents.

N: Oh.

N: Are you going to get in trouble for being tonight’s TWIG gossip girl.

M: I’m 24. I don’t get in trouble.

N:...

M: Papa said to stay away from breakables. Mama said to stay away from…

N: ?

M: Never mind.

N: Nico is intrigued ( ﾟｰﾟ)

M: Maki is tired ● ﹏☉

N: Pajama Selfie?

M: ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

N: Nico is beginning to suspect you don’t own pajamas.

M: Good night, Nico. See you next week.

N: Only if you send me an embarrassing PDA friend pic.

M: |`Д´)＞

N: Good night. Slide into my DMs sometime.

M: σ～ (｀´メ

N: (♡´艸`)

###

Maki had never been to this club. And the dress Kotori had insisted she wear didn’t have shoulders and the short, formal jacket she was wearing over it was of some lighter fabric than wool and unlined, so no help with the weather. By the time the driver dropped her off at the red carpet, she was already shivering. But checking coats was always a pain and it was five steps to the door.

The functionary with the clipboard and scowl stepped out into her path as Maki rushed forward. “Name, please.”

“Nishikino Maki.” Maki wrapped her arms around her torso, hoping the person knew how to speed read.

“I’m sorry but I can’t let you in.”

“I have an invitation somewhere…” Maki dug into her pocket, but all she could find was her phone, “There was an email. Yazawa Nico confirmed...we have plans.”

Scowling functionary made a gesture and looming bouncer stepped forward, flexing an arm seemingly accidentally. Maki, her fight reflex sensitive, stood taller.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Maki…”

“It’s Ms. Nishikino,” Maki snapped, “Japanese names are...never mind. Just look at my…”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Yazawa has asked you be removed from tonight’s guest list. That’s all I know.”

“That’s crazy, we’ve been trying to meet up for...Nico would never…” Two glances turned more dubious with every word. Maki paused, listening to herself, “Nico would never”...no, but there was Nico’s assistant….

Pulling out her phone and typing frantically, Maki ducked into an alley, as Madame Clipboard shouted, “There are no entrances there. Please don’t…”

Maki tuned out the voices.

M: They won’t let me in at the door.

N: Oh. Hang on. Let me see what I can.

Pacing and fury kept Maki a little above the early February temperature, but not by much. At least LA was warmer than Utah.

N: Meet me at the back door.

M: Okay.

Leave it to Nico to fix this. But there was Nico, sitting on a...tablecloth, with a plate of food, an actual wool shawl wrapped around a pretty, floral pink gown, fabric ruched into strips that swerved around her hips and torso.

“Here, eat this.” Nico offered Maki the food. Some kind of blah, one star pasta. At least it was warm. “Cocoro thinks you’re stalking me, trying to damage my reputation. So I can’t take you back in with me because she’s got your picture all over security like a most wanted poster. It’s a cute shot though, although the dress is not as pretty as that one.”

Maki stopped chewing to stare. Her mouth was probably open. Was Nico really going to leave her out here?

“You look freezing. Come sit next to Nico.” Nico patted the tablecloth and reached to take off her shawl.

Maki started down hesitantly, but Nico had the shawl wrapped around her before any part of her contacted the concrete steps. And an arm left casually holding Maki at the waist.

“Better?” Nico tilted her head, smiling.

“No.” Maki shoved the plate at Nico, slipped away from her arm, and pulled the shawl tighter. Nico’s clothes smelled like vanilla and peaches. “Are you really going to just leave me out here?”

“No, I’m going to encourage you to go home, have a hot hot chocolate, marry into the family as soon as you can so Cocoro gets used to you, and finally send me that pajama selfie. Tonight. When you get home. Nico has to go back in and finish telling a boring movie exec about her favorite composer and needs something to look forward to.”

Maki knew she was blinking, but her brain seemed to have frozen, and all of the words that had come out of Nico’s mouth had made none of the sense.

Nico bounced up, yanked Maki to her feet, steadied her when she stumbled off balance, and looked the most serious Maki had ever seen her, ruby eyes dark, “I am really, really sorry about Cocoro. You can tag along on my movie date with Cotaro tomorrow as an apology.”

A movie date with her little brother as an apology? And had Nico said “marry?” Maki kept the ends of the shawl scrunched in her hands as she tried to catch up but Nico kept talking.

“There’s a place in my neighborhood with the best popcorn and homemade candy. You’ll swoon.”

Maki decided what to latch on to, “Your brother?”

Nico sighed, “It’s my only free night for two weeks.” She slipped an arm through Maki’s, “Let’s get you a cab.”

When they got to the end of the alley, Nico stopped and spun Maki so the taller woman was looking at her, “Nico really is sorry.” A pause, then, “Can I?” as Nico’s finger brushed Maki’s cheek first, then her own lips.

Maki felt her cheek burn and tingle, even with only a quick brush from Nico’s fingertip. Her pulse started racing and once again, the evening started to feel warm, a thrill of growing excitement replacing the earlier fury. But Maki coughed and stepped back.

“As the lady wishes.” Nico bowed with the flair of a legendary minstrel, her smile a glow, “‘So, Maki, just so Nico is clear, WHEN you want Nico to kiss you, just say ‘yes.’

Maki knew she was blushing. Furiously. But when Nico reached out one last time for her hand, Maki didn’t pull it back. Nico leaned in close, whispering, “And WHEN you want to kiss Nico in the near to immediate future, consider this is my yes.” And then Nico let go and stepped back, “Nico will have a talk with Cocoro. And make sure this never happens again.”

“You better.” Maki shifted her shoulders, getting ready to hand over Nico’s shawl, but she decided she liked the weight of the wool and the hints of Nico tickling her nose and changed her mind. “And I’m keeping the shawl.”

“Good.” Nico’s laugh was bright bliss. “Don’t forget the selfie.”

Maki shook her head, almost finding her footing as she was about to exit the scene, “Nope. You have to work harder than this.”

Nico in the most ridiculous juxtaposition of walking meme and knockout fashion, flashed finger guns and a twinkle of a wink in Maki’s direction as she nodded, skipping away backwards up the carpet.

Maki collapsed into the back seat of the cab, glad for the near privacy. She was going to have to practice a few conversational quips for the movie date. What was the hot movie for 13 year old little brothers these days anyway? She pulled out her phone to do a few quick searches about topics of interest to teens, her cheek still tingling.

A/N: Okay, so you're getting three chapters. Sue me ; )

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #Yazawa Family #Yazawa Cocoro #siblings #humor #Maki's a lesbian disaster #FALLING IN LOVE #the literal way ; )#Hooray for Hollywood #Fluff #Hollywood #And Vine

4 notes · View notes

nhlarchived · 6 years

Text

Part One ~ Part Two ~ Part Three ~ Part Four

Word Count: 2.1k

_____________________________________________

You sat in the passenger seat of his car gazing out the window at all of the different beach houses on the strip, spotting the waves in between each home. Matt and Sydney’s house sat only a mile from the end of the island, leaving all the restaurants and entertainment about five miles down the strip, and with all of the stop lights on the island, it would take you about fifteen minutes before arriving anywhere.

“These houses are something else aren’t they.” Auston mentioned, sitting up farther in his seat to get a better view through the windshield.

“Says the millionaire professional hockey player as if you’ve never seen houses like this before.” You teased turning to look towards him. He rolled his eyes knowing he couldn’t argue with you on that one.

“I like how they’re all customized. How people put their home state flags up. Some different countries flags go up. Some people name their houses. It brings character, I like it.” He explained. He had a point. Matt & Sydney’s house had three flags. New York’s, Canada’s and America’s to represent where they were from. Although they didn’t name the house, Auston proved a point saying there was a lot of character brought to the neighborhood.

In fact, his statement shocked you. It showed how he pays attention to where he goes. He may have flown and lived in several different places around the globe, but he never takes it for granted. His words replayed in your mind as you now watched the houses through his perspective. The different colors, names, flags, they all told a story.

“I wish I could customize my own.” You admitted softly. You spoke into the window and honestly didn’t think it was even loud enough for Auston to hear, yet he did.

“I believe one day you can.” Auston added nudging your arm with his elbow. You chuckled at his comment, these houses ran in the millions. You believed it was almost impossible.

“You have too much belief in me.” You joked with a scuff. You faced his body once again that was focused on the road, his profile pulling into a confused glare.

“What? Why do you say that?” He said as if he was offended but the comment even though it wasn’t about him, cocking an eyebrow.

“I could never afford one of these houses.” You explained mimicking his expression.

“Y/n are you serious? Good things happen to good people I promise. Yeah you might not be able to afford it right this moment but you’re a really successful person. I’ve seen your potential.” He confessed changing his sight between you and the road. You couldn’t help but stare at him in a daze, trying to intake his words. He’d never really spoken to you that way. He’s always supported you, but never went out of his way to explain why.

You didn’t know how to respond. You started looking down at your hands fiddling with them not knowing what else to do. The tension was building up through the car as he awaited a response, but he eventually caught on that he wasn’t going to get one.

“You need to give yourself more credit y/n. Don’t let people make you feel any less than what you are. I know you’ve been off lately and not feeling yourself, but just know that I’ll always be here to support you no matter what.” He continued while stopping at a red light. You could feel his stare running through you like lasers. Once finally looking towards him you could see the sincerity in his eyes. He meant every word he said. You smiled at him and nodded acknowledging that you appreciate him.

His mouth pulled into a smirk seeing that he’s caught you speechless. You were pulled into a trance glued onto his eyes as the two of you sat in silence. His sight started switching between your eyes and your lips as he slowly leaned over the center console. You mimicked his movements as your mind raced a mile a minute.

You wanted him. There was no doubt about it, but you weren’t sure if this was the right time or not. You haven’t even forgotten your last relationship no longer having to jump into a new one. However, you also didn’t want to miss out on this opportunity of finally having the boy you’ve always wanted.

A loud vibration came from your phone in the cup holder. The two of you held eye contact for another moment before you looked down to see who was calling. You noticed the light you were stuck at had turned green but Auston was still stuck in his daze.

“The lights green.” You whispered, pointing awkwardly out of the windshield trying to pull him back to reality. You picked up your phone and saw Mitch’s name across the screen. As you swiped your finger across the screen to answer you felt the car move forward once again. Hearing a slight grumble escape from Auston’s mouth.

“What’s up?” You questioned to Mitch through the phone. You’d hate to admit it, but you were slightly upset. You were glad this gave you more time to think about taking the next step with Auston, but now you’ve realized you’re probably a little bit more interested in him than you thought.

“Where did you guys go?” Mitch asked. Due to the sound of his lips smacking you figured he had gone inside to grab a snack seeing neither you or Auston were still in the house.

“Uhhh” you paused turning towards Auston. You had no idea where he was taking you and you didn’t exactly want Mitch knowing that the two of you were running off somewhere secret just yet.

“We’re uhh we went to go to the grocery store.” You finally managed to get out. Auston immediately sent you a confused glare wondering what Mitch was questioning.

“We have a ton of food in the house?” Mitch continued clearly skeptic.

“Yeah maybe for the girls but not enough to feed us, plus six giant hockey players.” You argued and luckily you had a valid point. Matt and Syd didn’t go grocery shopping before everyone came over so the only food in the house is what they normally keep supplied.

“Good point.” Mitch spoke in between chews, clearly having food in his mouth. “Just make sure you guys don’t have too much fun.” He teased before hanging up the phone, not allowing you to respond. He knew you would quickly retaliate from his accusation, so he pressed the end button before you could speak another word.

You rolled your eyes clicking your phone screen off then placed it in your lap. You rested your head back onto the seat now knowing if you didn’t come back with loads of groceries, Mitch would be on to the two of you. Which you didn't want since you weren’t even sure what was going on.

“The grocery store?” Auston questioned clearly trying to hold back a laugh, thinking this whole situation was funny.

“It was the first innocent thing that came to mind.” You argued knowing that it was a better response than he could ever come up with.

“Yeah but now we have to go grocery shopping otherwise he’s going to tell the whole world how we hooked up in a parking lot or something.” He stated sitting up farther in his seat to now try and find a store the two of you could stop at.

“I’m very aware. Where were you taking me anyway?” You asked. Clearly the plans had been ruined but luckily you didn’t know where they were going to be in the first place.

“Can I be honest?” He started, you nodded your head yes in response. “I didn’t really have a plan. I was just going to wait for something to come up. So, I really hope you like shopping for milk and bread.” He teased with a smile plastered across his face from his own joke. You giggled and shook your head. It was a weird situation but at least the tension from the interrupted kiss was gone.. well so you thought.

“As long as I am with you I don’t really care though.” Auston barely whispered under his breath. You knew you weren’t supposed to hear it. At first you almost asked him to repeat it, but then figured it should be dropped. Besides, you didn’t want to think too far into it anyway.

Eventually Auston found a store a couple more miles down the road and pulled into the parking lot. This part of the jersey shore was your favorite. There were no commercial companies. It was all local family run businesses and it really made the area special. The grocery store had a gorgeous mural painted on the side of a farm with all different kinds of crops. You couldn’t help but stare at it for a while before following Auston who was watching you amusedly, halfway through the door already.

You jogged to catch up with him and was immediately hit by the cold air from the produce section that was off to the right. You grabbed a cart and followed Auston who you believed was pretending as if he knew what he was doing. It was your idea to go grocery shopping in the first place and it wasn’t like either of you knew the layout of this store, but he seemed to know exactly what aisle he wanted to go down.

He turned down the bread aisle picking up hamburger and hot dog buns, tossing them into the cart as if he was playing basketball. Obviously, you flinched a time or two not knowing how accurate his shot would be which caused him to laugh, so of course now he was going to do it the entire time you shopped.

He did it with the meats as well but this time you’ve stopped flinching now knowing he wasn’t going to hit you. You picked up a different variety of snacks as you followed him down each aisle and the cart was shockingly becoming quite full. Yet, the whole experience was becoming boring. You guys didn’t talk much besides “Hey do you think this would be good?” Followed by a yes or no answer. But the whole point of it was to get your mind off things and it seemed to have been working.

Auston picked up a carton of eggs and made the motion as if he was going to toss them into the cart with the other items. This caused you to have a borderline heart attack thinking he was actually going to do it, foreseeing the yolky mess he could have possibly caused.

“Auston I’m literally going to kill you.” You stated wide eyed holding your hand over your chest as you caught your breath. He couldn’t help but lean over the cart laughing hysterically at your reaction.

“Oh, shut up.” You teased slapping him lightly on the shoulder with the back of your hand. He stood up eyes still squinting from laughing as he held his arms out to you.

“Oh, come on you love me.” He accused wrapping his arms tightly around you, rocking your bodies back and forth. Of course, he was wearing your favorite cologne why wouldn’t he be? The scent filled your senses as you leaned your head into his chest and enjoyed the embrace.

Once his laughter had turned into only a smiling you looked up at him and shook your head not enjoying being startled, no matter how funny it was. His smile was contagious, causing you to smirk as well. Then, a domestic feature washed over his grin and his eyes looked as if they were studying you in a very loving way. You couldn’t help but feel the blood in your stomach begin to rush feeling as if a flower had just bloomed inside you.

“Come on. Let’s go back home.” Auston spoke, but it was in a soft seductive tone. Man, he was terrible at hiding his emotions. He slowly released his arms from around you and took the cart pushing it to the front to check out.

The way he looked at you moments ago was practically implanted into your mind. Every time he looked back at you to make sure you were following it reminded you of that soft glaze that had covered his eyes. You might not have been ready to move from your old relationship at the moment, but he was making it quite hard to resist. You knew it was about to be a long night.

________________________________________

Let me know what you think! ♥

#auston matthews #toronto maple leafs #nhl #hockey #imagine #fan fic #fan fiction #trust me series

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sam-lives-story · 5 years

Text

#SamLives - Chapter 5

“The Livestre҉a̲͉m”

[Previous|Next]

Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

‘Hi Jack! I wanted to know if you’ll have Sam in another video? He’s so cute!’

‘Hey there Jack, i’ve been watching your channel for a while and I wanted to say thank you for always making me smile. And by the way are you okay? You look really tired. Is Anti trying to take over again? xD’

‘Jack! Bro! Hi-five! *Wha-psh!* You’re so funny!!! I love your videos and I really like all the stuff you do with the egos. Is Schneep coming back? What about Chase? Does Sam count as an ego? I wanna see him again. He’s definitely real right?’

‘Is Sam real??? :0′

‘Holy shit #SamLives omfg’

‘You okay jack? You look really tired in your videos. Don’t forget to take care of yourself! You take care of us all the time, Maybe it’s our turn to take care of you! Get some rest and don’t worry about missing an upload. We’ll understand! <3’

‘Dude are you dropping hints again? Is Anti gonna show up again? I’m so scared! x3′

Jack was sitting hunched over in his desk chair, scrolling through his asks on Tumblr with a slightly strained look on his face. It was becoming harder and harder to find ones he could answer without either lying or giving away hints about his future plans for the egos. He groaned and let his phone fall to the carpet, his head dropping to his desk with a quiet ‘thunk’. He really didn’t feel up to recording today.

It had been three days since his call with Mark and the other YouTuber had been evasive any time Jack tried to question him about what he’d been talking about. And since that call, Jack’s paranoia had only gotten worse. Four more recordings had shown hints of Anti in the background, and it made him scared to try and record another one when that glitch could be watching him, creeping up on him while he was fully immersed in a game. He had been editing out the glitches before passing his recordings on to Robin, had tried to cut out the parts where Anti had shown up and blamed the missing sections on “camera issues, don’t worry about it”. No need to worry Robin if it turned out to be nothing but paranoia. Jack didn’t want to be leaving clues where they didn’t exist, especially since he already had plans for the upcoming month. Anti showing up prematurely would ruin things.

...then there was the fact that oh my god Anti is real what the hell is going on. Because now, Jack was sure it wasn’t just him and Robin that had seen Anti. It wasn’t just his own caffeine-driven delirium or Robin playing a prank. No, the entire community was talking about it...which meant it really did happen. Anti really was showing up. Which made this entire situation that much more terrifying. Not only was he scared that people knew Sam was real...he was getting scared because everybody else thought Anti wasn’t.

The buzz of his phone between his feet made him jump, heart pounding, and it took him a moment to catch his breath. Jesus...he panted softly, clutching at his chest, closing his eyes for a moment. It was nothing. Just his phone. Just...a text, or something. He picked it up, read Robin’s message, and groaned.

Robin: Having issues with the second upload today. Might have to stream instead. Is that okay?

Jack pressed his phone to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut, thinking. If he started a stream, and something happened live, he wouldn’t be able to cut it out. He wouldn’t be able to hide it. If he was streaming, people would see his exhaustion seeping through between his cheerful humor and energy.

Maybe he could wear makeup?

...not the worst plan

But that still left Anti...

With a huff, Jack sat back in his chair and typed back a reluctant message.

Jack: Yeah...yeah, I can stream. Jack: Keep an emergency contact on speed-dial just in case. Robin: Why? Expecting a break-in? You haven’t been playing The Game have you? That shit makes good nightmare fuel Robin: I doubt anything bad will happen lol...but sure, whatever you say.

Jack let his eyes close again and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Another message.

Robin: So should the emergency contact be Felix, or PJ, or should I just start screaming “HEY MA” if something goes wrong?

Jack threw his phone across the room.

"NO! SCREW YOU KALE-POP-08!”

An hour into the stream, and those who were watching were all laughing as he died, yet again, in Fortnite. Not that he was really mad at all. He chuckled along with the rest of them, groaning at his defeat, flopping over in his chair.

“Jackieboy Man, beaten again! How could this happen to me?” He took a deep breath, singing at the top of his lungs: “How could this happen to meeee? I’ve made my mistaaaakes–”

The chat responded by spamming the lyrics, to which Jack let out a chuckle.

“Ah well...guess I’m still kinda mediocre. But hey! I finished fourth! Not bad at all.”

Jack grinned and opened his mouth to start using his “Announcer Voice™” to commentate on Kale-Pop-08′s game, when the chat suddenly switched gears. Everybody began spamming basically the same thing in all caps.

» TURN AROUND! 0.0

» LOOK BEHIND YOU!!

» BEHIND YOU! D:

» JACK, BEHIND YOU!!!

All the color drained from Jack’s face and he spun in his seat, head whipping over his shoulder - and he let out a strangled sound, his eyes flying wide. There, in the corner, was a dark shadow. A distortion in the air. A glitch. And Jack knew full well what it was. Anti. In the real world. Right behind him. This was the first time he had actually managed to spot the digital demon outside of replays of his own recordings...and he didn’t have a fucking clue how to handle it.

“No!” he shouted, running on autopilot, his chair falling out from beneath him and his headphones tumbling from his head. He scrambled to his feet, backing up against the desk, as far back from Anti as he could possibly get. “N-No! Stay back! Don’t...d-don’t touch me! I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!”

His tone was turning desperate and scared and the stream was all but forgotten, panic blinding him in the moment. The darkness warped, morphed, a pair of brilliant green eyes staring at him from the shadows. A glitching, distorted, high-pitched version of his own laugh echoed back at him and he shuddered, a chill running down his spine.

“B-Back off, Anti!” he snapped, his bravado fading fast. Then before he knew what was happening there was a hand gripping the front of his shirt and pitch-black eyes boring into his own.

“E͙ṅjͩo͆y̑iͭnͨg͛ o̠u᷈r͌ l᷉i᷅t̋tͣl̈e̘ g͡a̓m᷊e͘,̓ a᷄r̫é y̲o̒ū̦̩?͕”

The voice sounded so like his own, but at the same time - so different. Darker. Distorted. Broken. He barely had time to register what was happening before he found himself being yanked backward away from the desk, tumbling across the floor with a cry of shock. Jack dragged himself to his feet, trying to get out, get away - then his back was slammed against the wall and there was a hand at his throat.

“I͆'̾m̦ a᷉ ḷĭṫtͤl͙e̡ dͨi̇s̢a͞p̣pͪo̺ịn̤tͪe͐d͗ t͓h̓o͡u̪gh,” Anti sneered, grinning wickedly. “Tͩh̎ọu̢g̤h̤t͊ y͋o̮u͠'̭d͖ a̓t̛ l̇e̬aͧs̽tͤ lͣeͪt̏ t̫h̓e̎ w᷇o͊r̮l͏d̊ s̪e᷀e̐ m͜e͍.͗.̬.̏b̓u̗tͪ n͌o̩,͑ y̢o͒u᷇ h̔idͥ m̻e᷇ ăw͋a᷆y̠ l̕ḭk͡e ä́ di̓rͤty l͇ỉtͭt̰l̃e͙ s̜ȅcͪr᷉e᷈t̀.”

Jack clawed at the hand around his throat, but he couldn’t get a grip on it. It wasn’t fully solid. Trying to grab Anti’s hand was like trying to dig through a bin of tiny, static-charged Lego’s.

“H̾o͐w̎ m̿a̴n̒y̾ v̢i͂dͧe͖o̤s͖ dͪi̪d̐ Iͤ s͌h̖o͗w͠ ṳp͎ i͛n̉?̄ H̽oͨwͯ ma̾n̬y o͠f͎ t᷀h͘e̥m̶ d͙i̟ḑ y̩o᷈ủ c̬u͈t͎ m͋e͝ oͤu̼tͨ oͯf̗?͛”

Anti shook him roughly, clutching at Jack’s neck so tightly he found himself gasping, choking, trying to catch his breath. Anti turned away from Jack slightly, eyes landing on the computer across the room, the stream that was still going on...and he grinned, a wicked, sharp, dangerous grin.

“W̧e͒lͅl̔ y̡oͫư c̦aͫn̟'̯t͏ ću̸t̞ m͝eͫ o͎u̿t͙ o̩f̄ tͭh̭i͙s̓ o̡n̻e. Ťh̍ȇŷ c̯a̸n̄ s̐e͓e̒ mͣe̽ nͮoͯw̔,᷉ c̱a̬nͣ'͍t̙ t͂h͆eͦỷ?̪ B̜u̕t̙ i̱ť l̴ōôk̦s᷅ l͂i̐ke͍ t͌ḧ́e͕y͡ m̳i᷈g̬h̹t̓ hͤa͂v̖e̕ bͤȇe᷄n᷉ t̤ỏo̽ lͫa̘t̵e᷆.̍” He tilted his head to the side, his image glitching and delayed, the action looking far from human...and the laugh that left him was even less so. “Yͧo̿uͯ'ͣr̕e᷀ p̵a͔yͣi̜n̪g̓ a̤t̲t͞e̽n̼t͆ĩo̢n̬ nͫO͐w̋ A̕řE͘n̓'̈́T̛ y̎O᷉Ǘ?̟!͌?͌”

Jack was struggling, fighting, trying to get air, little spots appearing in his vision–

“Leave him alone!”

A small but brave voice came to life in Jack’s head...and apparently, Anti heard him too, because the glitch flinched and took a step back. Not enough to let go of Jack, but enough to let him have some air. Anti’s grin faded and he looked...oddly tense, as far as Jack could tell from his spinning vision. He coughed, tried to warn Sam, tried to get him to leave.

“S̮t͈a̙y o͈u̪t͗ o͛f͎ t͇h͠i᷉s͆,ͨ S̥a̼m͝.ͦ”

“No! You stay out of it! L-Leave Jack alone! ...please?”

Jack couldn’t see Sam, didn’t know where he was, only knew he was somewhere on the ground, and the thought of him being involved in this at all...it terrified him, more than being alone in the room with Anti. He struggled harder against Anti’s hold. He had to get away, had to...had to keep Sam safe...had to protect...

“...I̛ w͞a᷉s᷄ g͋e͇t̖t̾i̗n' b̎o͡r͘e̴dͤ a̴nͩy͉w᷁a͔y͐.”

And much to Jack’s shock and relief, Anti glitched and distorted, disappearing and reappearing across the room, still in the camera’s view but out of Jack’s reach. Jack let out a hoarse, strangled gasp and crumpled to the ground, coughing, trying to breath, clutching at his throat as though he couldn’t believe he was still alive.

He really, honestly, couldn’t.

Anti let out a dramatic, glitching sigh.

“S͐'͎p̀p̭o̲s͝e̾ I̾'͔l̂lͮ h̒âvͧe̦ ṭa͎ sͥa͓v͈e͈ t̔h᷇e͇ f᷀u̯n̲ u̮n̥t̜i͏l̈́ n͢e᷆x̐t᷉ ṫỉmͥe͑,ͪ J̱a᷁c̹ǩa̱b̘o᷄yͨ~”

The glitch shot one last, giggling grin at the camera, the vanished with a flurry of distorted pixels.

“...Jack? J-Jack, are you okay?”

Jack nodded mutely, still struggling to find his breath, to find his voice.

‘Yeah. Thanks Sam. I think you might have saved my life.’

Sam preened at the words, his worries fading away in favor of a few happy squeaks and a little cuddling against Jack’s leg. Jack smiled softly. He raised his head, eyes locking on the computer, on the desk. The stream.

Oh, fuck, the stream–

Jack scrambled to his feet, scooping Sam up as he went and tucking him in his hoodie pocket, careful to keep him out of sight of the camera. He stumbled over to the desk and dragged his chair back to where it was supposed to be, dropping into it and staring into the lens. He opened his mouth - and he couldn’t think of what to say. His entire body was still pulsing with terror, his hands shaking horribly and his eyes twitching nervously as though he was sure Anti was still hiding in the corners of the room. Jack, for once in his life, was utterly speechless.

He had almost been killed.

He had almost died.

If Sam hadn’t been there, he was certain he would have.

And suddenly it was like everything came collapsing down on him at once, the adrenaline wearing off and giving way to the shock and the fear and the overwhelming emotions that accompanied a near-death experience. He shuddered and buried his face in his hands, knowing full well he was being watching, knowing full well that thousands of people were witnessing his breakdown.

“...s-sorry,” he finally managed. The word was mangled and hoarse and came out a little wheezy. “Sorry you...s-saw...fuckin’ hell...”

It was with a shaking breath and shaking shoulders that he forced himself to look up at the screen, his eyes seeking out the livestream chat.

» Holy shit did you see that?!

» Guys I don’t think that was fake, look at Jack

» Dude Jack are you okay?!?

» That looked real. Holy fuck how did they make it look so real????

» Look at him, he looks so scared

» Ohmygod Jack! Are you okay?

» That was some amazing editing, holy shit I’m dying

» JACK! TALK TO US! PLEASE LET US KNOW YOU’RE OKAY!

» He looks absolutely terrified, I don’t think he’s faking it, I think that really happened

» Guys look at the marks on his neck

» OH MY GOD I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST SAW THAT HOW DID HE DO THAT WHAT THE FUCK

» Jack? Are you alright? Please say you’re alright, I’m so worried about you!

Jack took a breath, then another, a half-hearted, shaking smile making its way onto his features.

“I’m alright,” he assured them, knowing he sounded like hell and knowing it was half a lie. “Jus’...just a little shaken, is all. I’ll be–” He broke off with a cough, wincing. “...I’ll be f-fine. Just need ta rest fer awhile. I dunno if I’ll be able to scream for ya for a few days. Heh...”

He tried to lighten the mood with a joke, and while it seemed to calm some of the chat, knowing he could still be humorous after that, many were still worried.

“...I’m...I’m gonna end the stream here, I think. Sorry for cuttin’ it short.”

And after a quick, and much quieter, goodbye, Jack turned off his camera. He sank back into his seat, eyes closed, and dragged both shaking hands down his face. What...what the hell was he supposed to do now...? Sam made a quiet questioning noise from his pocket and his breath caught, pulse skyrocketing. Sam...Sam could’ve gotten hurt. He, Jack, could have died, and–

–and suddenly he was out of his seat, staggering from the room and finding his way to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. It took him almost three tries to do it, his other hand clutching the basin like his life depending on it. Then he was splashing water in his face. Trying not to throw up. Trying to calm himself down. Because if anything was going to prove to him that Anti was real, what had happened tonight certainly did it.

Jack didn’t even bother eating dinner or changing into pajamas. It took everything he had to make it to his bedroom, and once he was there he curled up, shaking beneath the covers, his phone flung to the other side of the room, Sam curled up against his chest. He couldn’t even trust technology anymore. Anti had only ever shown up in videos. He had only ever shown up while Jack was at his computer. And, perhaps, during that phone call with Mark where his perfectly-unbroken phone had shocked him. So despite the buzzing he could hear across the room, despite the number of times he saw the screen light up, no way in hell was he going to answer it. He wasn’t going to risk it.

Jack ignored it, and he ignored the rest of the world...and now, here, alone in the dark with Sam as his company, he finally let himself break. A strangled sob broke free from his damaged throat and he cried, actually openly cried, for the first time in a very, very long time.

[A/N] ...sorry? ^^;

Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

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[Chapter List]

#SamLives #Sam Lives #Jacksepticeye #Antisepticeye #JSE #JSE Fanfic #Jacksepticeye Fanfic #Sam Septiceye #Sam #Anti #Jack #Robin #Chapters #5 #The Livestream

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lesbian-deadpool · 6 years

Text

A “Good Day.”

Tony Stark x Steve Rogers

Words: 1,895.

A/N: This is part two of Mismatched Hair. But it can be read on its own. I wrote this because the people who have watched Infinity War need this, because I know I fucking did. @starsandsupernovae, here you go. This is how IW went right? This is what happened? No hurt? No pain? No destruction? Great! I'm in denial!

P.s. There are no spoilers in this. So enjoy.

It had started as a good day.

Started.

There were no missions, which was rare. What was rarer, however, was that the only people at the tower were, Steve, Tony, Peter, Bucky, and Bruce.

Clint was with his family. Pietro was busy ruining Vision and Wanda's day out together. Scott was with his daughter. Thor and was at the shwarma place, eating almost everything they had, as Loki watched with disgust clear on his face. Natasha was God knows where. And the rest were at their homes or didn't say where they were going.

At Noon, the day had started. The ones at the tower having a late start to the day.

Tony was making the coffee, or as he calls it, his staying alive juice. As Steve cooked breakfast.

Peter walked into the kitchen, yawning as he stretched his arms above his head. Still clad in his Ironman pyjama shirt, Captain America pyjama pants, and Spider-Man socks.

"Good morning," he said, through yet another yawn.

"Good morning? It's noon," Steve replied.

"You can talk. You woke up twenty minutes ago," Tony said, pointing to Steve with his steaming cup of black coffee.

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.

"Yeah, you're still in your pyjamas, too," Peter added. Gesturing to Steve's white tank top, and grey sweatpants. Then to Tony's silk pyjamas, that was obviously custom made. They looked like the Ironman suit. But used Steves, Captain Americas, red, white, and blue.

"Hey! I was defending you, kid."

"Sorry," Peter said bashfully.

Tony handed Steve his black coffee with five sugars in it, because that's the only way he can drink it. Unlike Tony, who drank it black without anything added.

"Do ya want coffee, kid?" Tony asked Peter, who was now at one of the counters stools.

"Yeah."

"How do you want it?"

"Black. Nothing added. Just like you Mr Stark."

"Okay," Tony said chuckling. He knew exactly the way he liked his coffee. Almost white, four sugars, with cream.

Steve finished making breakfast, just as Tony placed Peters coffee in front of him. It soon being joined by a stack of pancakes doused in syrup.

"Wheres Dr Banner and Bucky?" Peter asked as they sat down either side of him, digging into their own breakfasts.

"Bucky's still asleep. And Bruce is down in the lab," Steve replied. Bucky would predictably sleep the day away. And Bruce would carry on like any other day.

"I suppose you'll be joining Dr Banner, Mr Stark?" Peter asked, already knowing the answer, that Tony would indeed be spending the rest of his day down in the lab.

"Actually, no. I wanted to take a break today. See what the kids do," he replied surprising Peter. Steve smiling into his coffee, he had talked to Tony, about spending more time with the boy, they thought of as a son.

"Really?"

"Yep. What do you want to do Today, kid?"

"Um... well... I have to finish up some science homework. But after that, we could totally do whatever. We could go to the zoo?" he suggested.

"Homework and the zoo it is," Tony said happily, banging his fists against the counter, in playful affirmation.

"It's good that you care about your school work so much, Peter," Steve said, a devious smirk plastered on his face. "You're well on your way to, "yeeting" yourself into a bright future."

Peter groaned at Steve, as Tony laughed his ass off. Peter turned to face him when he began speaking.

"Oh, come on, kid. Just, "dab on them, haters!"." Tony laughed.

Peter groaned once again, "Oh my God, please stop." As they laughed.

Three pm.

Peter and Tony were sat at the dining table, working on Peters homework. As Steve showerd.

"And that's how you solve that equation," Tony said, throwing his arms out from his sides, happily.

"Thanks, Mr Stark. You're a really great teacher," he said. "Also, your hair's growing in nicely."

Tony smiled, running his hand through his soft hair. That was only an inch long. His sides cut short, and the top sticking up.

"Thanks, kid."

"Alright. Who's ready to go to the zoo?" Steve asked walking in. His hair sticking out at all places, looking like he had just been shocked.

"I am!" they both yelled. Causing Steve to chuckle.

Central Park Zoo. Full of animals, young and old, big and small. And they would leave the children's zoo.

As soon as they arrived they had headed straight into the children's zoo, and had spent the past hour petting the goats and pigs.

Steve loved the pigs, but Tony and Peter were quite in love with the goats.

Steve watched from across the small section of the zoo, watching as Tony jokingly ran away from the tiny goats, a smile on his face as they chased him. As Peter calmly held one in his arms, watching Tony, with a smile on his face.

Steve walked over, asking, "What's goating on over here?" causing Peter to groan, once again.

"Nothing much, just goating attacked by tiny goats."

Peter screamed out in playful frustration.

"Why? Did you get bored of the piglets?" Tony asked.

"Yeah. Don't you think we should go look around the rest of the zoo?" Steve asked, gesturing behind him with his head.

"But. Goats..." Peter said. Pulling the goat closer, nudging his face against it. A small smile on his face.

"Come on," Steve said, rolling his eyes.

Five pm.

Peter and Steve were walking up ahead, as Tony watched them from behind, a content smile on his face. It breaking out into a full grin as they picked up sticks, and started fighting with them as if they were swords. The of wood against wood, ripping through the nearby air, of Central Park.

Peter suddenly turned back to Tony, yelling, "Can we get ice cream, Mr Stark?!"

"Sure, Kid!" he yelled back.

Peter raised his hands up into the air in victory. As Steve lightly hit Peter on his leg.

"Oww!" Peter yelled out. Turning around, restarting his fight with Steve.

They quickly grabbed their ice cream, taking a seat at a park table. Steve and Peter's sticks through the loop's of their belt's. The three of them happily chatting away, unknown to the person watching them right now.

Natasha sat in a tree, camera in hand as she took pictures of the boys sat at the table. She had been spying on Wanda and Vision's "totally not a date" date. Being wholeheartedly entertained by Pietros antics, of trying to ruin it. But had quickly torn her interest to them.

She quickly snapped another picture of them, looking down at it. It showing Tony and Peter sat across from Steve. Tony slightly bent over the table, laughing. As the two boys had their "sword's" raised and pointing at each other, playful glares of acting children masked their faces, small smiles tugging at their lips. Their ice cream in their other hands, as Tony tried not to lay in his.

She smiled at the picture. "They're gonna love this," she said to herself. As something hit the tree causing it to shake slightly. She looked down to see Pietro, sprawled out on his back. Clearly knocked out, from running into the tree.

"Idiot," she scoffed, continuing with a chuckle.

And if she thought things couldn't get any better, a bird flew overhead. A creamy white substance landing on Pietro, trailing down his chest.

"Eww, gross," she said happily laughing once again. Quickly snapping a picture, finally getting back to her previous task. Blackmail.

Seven pm.

This is where the day started to go decline. With six simple words.

"Do you guys wanna play Mariokart?"

Peter had asked that. So if you want anyone to blame, blame him.

"Yes," Steve had said instantly, shooting up in his seat, closing his newspaper, as he looked at Peter, excitement on all of his features.

"You've played Mariokart? Tony asked Steve incredulously.

"Yeah, Bucky, Sam, and I played it a little while ago. I didn't know what I was doing, most of the time. But it was still fun," he said shrugging.

"What about you Mr Stark?" Peter asked as he started the games console.

"Oh, hell yeah, I want in," he said, picking up a controller, moving the sticks, and pressing the buttons, as a "warm-up". "Just to let you guy know. I'm going to destroy you."

"Ha! Fat chance," Steve said. "I am the soul winner today."

"Oh, honey, no. I love you too much to let you humiliate yourself this way," Tony replied in a mockingly sweet voice. All the while Peter smiled at their playful bickering.

"Bitch please, you don't think I can beat you in Mariokart?" Steve asked as he gratefully took the controller, that Peter was handing him. Shooting the boy a thankful smile.

"No. I know you can't."

"Oh, then it's on!"

"Hell yeah, it is!" Tony said as he sat down at one end of the couch, with Steve sat on the opposite end. As Peter in front of them, in the middle of the coffee table. His arms resting against his legs, as he crouched over them, controller in his hands.

"How...?" Tony asked.

"What?" Steve asked, his voice soft. Playing innocent.

"Huh?" Peter asked, turning around to face them, shock covering his face.

"How did you just do that?!" Tony yelled.

"What's wrong? Kart you believe what just happened?"

"Please God, stop," Peter begged, before continuing, "How? I've been playing this game since I was a kid. How did you beat me?"

Tony just sat there, unable to speak. Shock temporality paralysing him.

"I don't know. I just Guess I'm Mario better than you!"

Nine pm.

"I still can't believe you won..."

"Let it go, Tony."

"Never! I still don't know how I ended up last!"

Steve shook his head, placing them in his hands, as Tony went on and on about Steve winning. Replaying the last few hours in his head, Tony voice turning into white noise. Before his head snapped back up, to look at Tony in shock.

"What? What did I do?" Tony asked hesitantly, as he placed Steves cup of coffee in front of him.

"You said you loved me."

"What?! No, I didn't. When?" he asked, panicked.

"Before we started playing Mariokart."

"What?" Tony scoffed. "No. No, I didn't-" he stopped shock covering his face, from remembering hin accidental "I love you".

"Tony. Do you love me?" Steve asked, a big goofy smile on his face, as he leaned over the counter.

"Well, I didn't want the first time I said it to be unintentional. But, yes. Yes, I do. I love you, Steve."

"I love you too, Tony."

Tony leaned onto the counter, giving Steve a sweet kiss. Both unknown to the boy listening in. Thinking how lucky he was to be welcomed into this crazy family.

And yes, Peter would be very happy if you blamed him. Because, as it turns out. The day had not been a good day.

It had been a great day.

#tony stark x steve rogers #stony #marvel #mcu #superfamily #original fanfiction

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ruffsficstuffplace · 6 years

Text

The Viridian Vanguard (Part 22)

Appropriately enough for an air weaver, Sayuri’s fury was like a raging storm, electricity violently discharging and sparking from her fur and her claws as she shouted at such a high volume and speed, it looked like even someone as normally calm, collected, and professional as Bee was quickly looking overwhelmed.

She quickly shot Weiss a look and gestured for her to back off, a stray jolt of electricity giving her some extra encouragement. Sayuri was still going as Bee tapped her staff on the ground, and a bubble formed around them, dulling the sound of her rage significantly, her ever intensifying discharges exploding, crackling, and fading all over the inner surface.

Penny’s eyes suddenly brightened up, the pieces of her tail rapidly floating off of Weiss’ shoulders as she shot up into the air. She quickly spun around once, before slowing down and stopping at Sayuri and Bee.

“Identity, and source of your elevated stress levels both confirmed,” Penny said as she hovered down by Weiss’ head. “Are you alright, Weiss?”

Weiss nodded slowly. “Yeah, yeah I’m good… should we… should we step in or something?” she asked, watching as Bee seemed to be trying to talk to Sayuri, keeping the warm, friendly expression on her face even as Sayuri was still seething, violently discharging electricity everywhere.

“Definitely not,” Penny said firmly. “If your mere presence alone could incite this level of extreme, violent emotions in Sayuri, you’re best off avoiding her, especially if you don’t have a mediating figure such as Bee, or alternatively, some cause or crisis that will cause her to temporarily put her personal grudge aside.

“I advise you and I both leave until Sayuri calms down completely. In line with that, I’m detecting Winter’s comm-crystal signal nearby; would you like to go to her?”

Weiss nodded, and the two of them made a discrete exit, pushing back into the crowds once more.

They came out of the crush and to a mana water fountain, which seemed to be built out of a still living tree. Winter was loitering by a small pool near the roots, her summons’s soul stones deep inside the water. “Did something happen?” she asked as they came up.

“Just the usual,” Weiss muttered, before Penny perched herself on a nearby branch, and replayed the earlier events.

“Seriously?!” Winter asked. “I could understand her coming for you specifically from the whole team name business, but what are the odds, even, that she’d join up in the same class as Weiss, just in time to save it from being dissolved…?!”

“I’m afraid I don’t have enough information nor similar events on record to make an estimate, let alone an accurate one,” Penny replied. “That aside—and full disclosure, this is speaking purely through basic pattern recognition without any further experimentation, research, or theory testing on my or anyone else’s part—the most extremely improbable events just seem to keep consistently happening to Weiss specifically, against most laws of probability, so long as it inconveniences, threatens, or harms her in some way, shape, or form.”

“Seems Grandpa really WAS onto something when he talked about our family probably being cursed...” Weiss muttered, before she sighed heavily, and leaned into Winter’s side. “I’m really glad you’re here with me now, Winter, and staying for the long-term; it makes me feel more confident about whatever impending shit storm I’ll be facing, knowing you’re back here with me.”

“Think nothing of it,” Winter said, wrapping her arm around Weiss’ side. “I’ve got about a decade’s worth of big sister-ing to catch up to, anyway.”

“Excuse me, don’t mean to interrupt your sisterly bonding moment, but I feel I should really talk to you three before you get to class,” Bee said as she stepped up.

Weiss turned to her and looked around warily. “Where’s Sayuri?” she asked.

“She’s already on her way to class, and I’m happy to report, I managed to talk her down without incident,” Bee said, smiling, before her expression turned serious. “And speaking of Sayuri: I really have to please ask you that you don’t let her be a deal breaker; it took a LOT of time and effort to shift about and reschedule your eight other classmates from your original arrangements, and it’s a serious decision for any teacher to let go of their students to a special class like this, however short-term.

“A lot of the latter are working towards their Master’s Rites, and often are doing this as their full-time jobs; one less student under their tutelage could mean the difference between getting the opportunity to even be considered for the Rites within the next couple of years, or a serious blow to their income.

“Not to mention, if you back out of this now, it’ll be a lot harder for you to argue for special considerations and classes in the future...”

“Alright, alright, I get it! I won’t quit because of Sayuri, you can stop now,” Weiss said, before she shook her head. “Piper, are all you teachers this fond of guilt-tripping?”

“We Fae prefer to think of it more as, ‘politely reminding you of the consequences your actions can have on others,’” Penny chimed in, before she and Bee chuckled.

Weiss scowled, unamused.

“Anyway, you should probably be getting to class now, and meeting your teacher for today,” Bee said. “Most of them tend to be extremely lenient on the first day, but others are pretty strict about punctuality.”

Weiss nodded. “Do you happen to know anything about who they are?”

Bee shrugged. “I’m sorry, I was too busy with the begging and looking for recruits for the class in the first place. I do know that they’re going to be a representative of Primal Wenua, but there’s several of them that could fit the bill.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I really need to go, too.”

“Don’t let us keep you, Bee,” Weiss said. “Thanks for all the help.”

“Any time!” she said, before she hurried on over to a nearby “skyway,” launched herself up into the air via a sudden gust of wind.

“You ready to go, sis?” Weiss asked.

“Of course,” Winter said, smiling before she held her hand out over the basin. “Everyone out of the water!” she said.

There was disgruntled burbling and bubbling coming up from beneath the surface, before five of the six soul stones shot out of the water, arcing into Winter’s palm. She glared at the sixth. “You don’t get special treatment because you’re my main summon, Idun.”

Splash!

Idun joined the others, Winter smiled as she picked her up and slotted her back into her belt. “Good girl.”

With Penny having already calculated the most efficient route, the Schnee sisters followed her to their destination.

Their class was being held at the ground level, at a tent city set up at a long, flat, open field that Penny explained was for a Fae sport, “Huracan.” Other classes, work, and training sessions had already clearly begun, the sounds of shouting, exercising, casting, fighting, chanting, and swearing flooding the air, the Schnees and Penny having to maneuver very carefully through the too thin walkways allotted between tents and sectioned-off areas.

If it was any small comfort, the numerous shields put up everywhere were doing a damn fine job at keeping any potential disasters and mishaps contained.

Boom!

Weiss winced as pieces of a rock target smashed and disintegrated on the translucent barrier just beside her.

<Sorry!> called the air weaver who’d blasted it to pieces.

Weiss shook her head, and they turned a corner down a line of tents.

Fwoosh!

Winter instinctively pulled Weiss to her chest and wrapped her arms around her as a giant jet of fire erupted not inches away from them, the flames licking and raging violently, fighting against a flashing barrier.

Idun flew off from her belt, “fur” bristling and magic lines roiling as she eyed the flames.

<We’ve got it under control, it’s fine!> a fire weaver yelled. <Just keep going!>

Winter and Weiss looked unconvinced, they carefully inched forward, Idun reluctantly jumping back onto Winter’s belt.

WHAM!

The sisters and Penny all jumped as a massive, bulky weaver slammed into the side of a shield, all his limbs splayed out, his face squished up against the enchanted wall as if it were made of glass. He peeled off of it, and collapsed onto a heap on the ground below.

<Are you alright, Weaver?> Winter asked.

He raised a claw, and made a thumbs up. <Mmm a’right!> he said as he picked himself up, and walked back to his fellows

Winter shook her head as they started walking again. “Piper, it’s like I’m right back in the Applied Sciences department at R&D...” she muttered.

“What was it like down there, anyway?” Weiss asked.

Winter sighed, and said, “Let’s just say the Queensguard’s emphasis on ‘you only need to be functional, talented, and capable of taking orders’ was never more obvious than it was down there...”

Eventually, they made it to the opposite end of the field, where most of the space had been converted into a running track, exercise equipment and machines spread out, with a handful of dueling pits in the center, most of them small enough only for 2-3 Fae to fight comfortably. Already, almost all of them were in use, weavers heaving and puffing, sweat pouring down their bodies as the lines of magic on their skin gradually pulsed harder and brighter.

<Heh, about time you three got here...> said a male Fae as he walked up to them.

He was a gazelle Fae, looking to be in his mid-twenties, neatly cut and dramatically shortened horns on his head, what little hair he had tied in a single braid that ran down the back of his head, a pleasant smile on his face and the squint of his eyes so pronounced it was almost like they were constantly closed.

<My name is Rokuro Tygan, one of Primal Wenua’s personal students!> he said opening his arms out wide in welcome, before offering them to Weiss and Winter both. <No need for introductions from either of you, we all know who the both of you are—hard not to, really.>

<It is a pleasure to meet you, Weaver, thank you for taking me under your tutelage,> Weiss said politely, before they each took a hand and shook.

His grip was incredibly strong and firm, the muscles of his bare, lean, and chiseled arms already tightening from just that motion alone. Weiss quietly wondered how the bejeweled metal bands running up from his wrist onward didn’t snap or seem to bend.

<And I have to thank you, for the honour of training the Keeper’s Mate, and her kin, at that,> Tygan said as he took his hands back, and clasped them. <Come, come, we’ve all just been waiting for you before we start—and before you get any ideas, this is the first and last special privilege any of us will be affording you for your status.>

<That’s just fine with us, Weaver Tygan,> Weiss said.

Tygan lead them to one of the few tents in the area, where Sayuri and seven other weavers were sitting around on the benches, tree branches, and rocks, waiting. They all seemed to be teenagers, just entering puberty, or already looking like young adults who’d clearly been through some shit. Temperaments ranged from meek and nervous, tensed up and warily eyeing the others, to bold and restless, clearly itching for the fighting to start already, or debating starting something themselves.

About the only thing that seemed to unite them all was that all of their gear had been clearly modified for combat, reinforced with armour plating; had slings, belts, and packs for extra weapons and/or ammo; or even decorated with the remains of their past kills, bones especially.

Weiss and Winter found a free spot together, Penny readied herself for a live translation as Tygan stepped up in front of all of them. He scanned the faces in front of him, took in a deep breath, and calmly said, <I will be completely honest: I really want to see all of your faces gone from this class as soon as possible.>

Many in the class clearly did not appreciate that, and didn’t hesitate to make it known, through scowls, disappointed sighs, and the odd minor spell thrown at him. Tygan stood in the center of it all, casually dodging or blowing away any projectiles, still smiling.

<This is because as long as you’re in this class, there is something keeping you from regular training with the rest of your peers; working on your apprenticeship to graduate to Adept level; or gaining the much more valuable experience and education that only being on the field, or working an actual job can give you, where the failures for consequences are much higher than a simple failing mark, and your instructor telling you to try and do better next time.

<Then why don’t you just get to the fucking point already?!> a gorilla Fae shouted from somewhere in the front.

Still smiling, Tygan casually held out his finger; electricity arced from the tip, striking the gorilla Fae and him alone.

<OW! SON OF A BITCH!>

Tygan ignored him and continued, <My job is simple: I will teach you all how to fight, and fight well.

<I will not be encouraging you to read up on the philosophy of elemental weaving, write essays and give speeches, and spend long hours in meditation, pondering on the nature of magic and the realm. I will not be testing you on how well you can remember past events, significant weavers and their accomplishments, understand how they led to certain milestones, or the present state of magical theory. I will not be tasking you with internships, and forcing you to contribute your talents and powers to certain ongoing public projects.

<Your job is equally as simple: hit me with your magic.

<Specifically, you will have to do it within five minutes, in a fair duel 1-1, or however many of you you think you’ll need, successfully hit me once with any spell, or magically charged technique. This can be anything from something that knocks me out completely and leaves me absolutely devastated, to a drop of water hitting my cheek.

<Basically, so long as there is clear, undeniable evidence that you have successfully struck me, you will pass, and are free to return to regular training or whatever else you please>

The same gorilla Fae from earlier snorted. <Shit, that’s all? You’re not fucking with us?>

Tygan nodded. <Yes, that is all. Do you wish to try—Goro Aneyama, is it?>

<Yeah, and that’s my name, Teach,> Goro said, getting up from his seat and walking up to Tygan. <Not that you’re gonna need to remember it, ‘cause I’m gonna be out of here soon enough.>

<Are you certain about this, Aneyama?> Tygan asked calmly.

<Did I fucking stutter?!> Goro snapped, throwing his bulky arms out.

Tygan nodded. <Very well then. Mender Polendina, if you will please bear witness and officiate, and if someone else would please help set up our duel, that would be much appreciated.>

Penny and two other weavers came up to draw a circle and barrier just outside of the tent, Tygan and Goro inside of it.

“This probably isn’t going to end well for him, isn’t it?” Weiss asked.

“Definitely not!” Winter said, before she smiled. “If it’s anything like Queensguard screening, though, it’s going to be extremely entertaining, at the least...”

The rest of the class seemed to agree, excited chatter and what sounded like talk about bets already starting, especially among those who knew either Goro or Tygan already. Weiss looked around and shook her head, declining when someone asked if she wanted to throw some money in the growing pot.

The barrier went up, at the barest minimum regulation would allow for two combatants. There was barely any place to move around in, close quarters engagement all but inevitable, little to no time to dodge any projectiles thrown, and absolutely no space to outrun all but the smallest of explosions or area-of-effect spells.

The two combatants put their masks on, pulled their hoods up, and had their respective spotters search and remove any accessories or weapons that weren’t allowed, or would prove a hindrance. As they hauled out of the barrier, Weiss and Winter looked at the combatants in turn:

Tygan, lean but muscular, his “coat” really more just a loose hooded vest, and equally loose pants. There were metallic threads and intricate designs on the fabric, and his rope belt had pulsing, enchanted fibers woven into it, but otherwise, there wasn’t much that would protect him from a direct hit, physical or magical.

Goro, stocky, his muscles thick and bulging, his coat covering his whole body, and adorned with numerous armour plates on non-flexible sections, most prominently his breastplate. Silvery lines covered the ceramic-like material, repaired cracks from battles and incidents long ago.

<Last chance if you want to back out, Aneyama!> Tygan called out, loud enough for all to hear. <No shame in passing on a fight when you know there’s nothing worth fighting for.>

<Oh, shut up, and let’s do the stupid ritual!> Goro yelled, punching his palm.

Unfazed, Tygan shrugged, and said, <Alright!>

Penny lead the pre-duel rites and projected a timer from her tail: 5:00. The audience started to cheer and howl as the two fighters got into their stances: Goro roared and slammed a foot on the ground as he threw his arms out, hands and the blood red “eyes” of his mask exploding in flames; and Tygan calmly spread his hooves apart, moved his open palms up to his chest.

One of the spotters blew the dueling horn, and Goro figuratively and literally exploded into action.

Fwoosh! Fwoosh!

He swung his arms wide through the air, throwing out five fireballs each time!

Tygan barely moved his hands, every single one of the projectiles suddenly violently veering off-course, exploding harmlessly on the barrier.

Goro roared as he charged Tygan with his fists swinging, flames raging from his knuckles to his shoulders, fiery explosions filling the barrier as he punched, lunged, smashed, and grappled with him. Tygan dodged and weaved around each and every single strike, ducking and bending his body at dramatic angles and elaborate poses, seemingly disappearing into thin air as he escaped Goro’s grasp and circled around and behind him.

<Hahaha! Teach is just straight fucking with him!> one student cried.

<Go Goro!> another one cried mockingly. <Flail harder, you’ll get him eventually!>

Goro howled in rage, exploding into white-hot flames; he cocked his arm, a brilliant flash erupting from his fist as he threw a flaming haymaker at Tygan!

Boom.

The students shielded their eyes, or cried out as they were temporarily blinded. A section of the barrier broke, thick white smoke pouring out of the breach before it quickly healed. Inside, Goro waved an arm in front of him as he shook his punching hand, his whole body glowing with faint red, magical residue.

The air suddenly cleared, the blinding smoke exploding out from the top of the barrier like a volcano; at its base, Tygan, calmly whisking his glowing hands up in turn, completely, absolutely untouched.

Goro stared at him, slack-jawed, before he glanced at the timer:

0:37

He turned back to Tygan, looking straight at him with his “smiling” mask, his arms spread wide as he made a “Come at me” gesture with his palms.

Goro roared, pounding his fists on his chest, the lines of red magic all over his body glowing painfully bright, fire shooting out from the silver seams in his armour, his whole figure enveloped in brilliant white flames.

He jumped up and raised his fists, slammed them both into the ground and sent a giant wall of fire and molten earth exploding out around him!

Tygan swept his foot in front of him, the burning shockwave blown away just before it reached him, the molten rocks flying to the side and breaking harmlessly on the shield. Then, he threw his glowing arms out, a ball of yellow, crackling magic spreading out around him, going past Goro, and sticking to the edges of the barrier, the inside now tinted in Tygan’s topaz yellow magic.

Goro snarled as he pulled himself out of the new crater in the ground, angrily pounding his fists on the dirt, before he suddenly gasped, clutched at his neck. His flames died out quickly as they burned through what little oxygen was left in the bubble, the red lines of mana all over his body rapidly faded. He frantically raised a violently trembling hand, the tip of his finger glowing in ever intenser red...

Pew!

Tygan didn’t even need to move as the feeble laser Goro shot at him missed completely.

The timer hit 0:00, one of the spotters blew the horn. The arena was filled with a loud, rushing sound as Tygan dispelled his magic completely, Goro gasped, coughed, and violently trembled, curling up into a ball as he hyperventilated.

Tygan stepped out of the dirt circle and left Goro to the spotters and Penny, taking his mask off to reveal the same pleasant expression as always. <Does anyone else want to try today?> he asked, holding his arms out. <You get a single chance every session, whenever you please!>

No one took him up on it.

<No takers?> Tygan shrugged, before casually thumbing behind him to the track. <Then all of you, except the spotters, Polendina, and Aneyama on the track, now, please.>

Note: A Vacuum Field is rarely, if ever used in real combat situations, as it can be easily escaped if used without the help of other physical/magical barriers, and the spell itself requires constant, intensely focused channeling by an air weaver to prevent new air coming in, much more for the time it would take for all the oxygen levels to deplete so dramatically that living beings aside from the weaver start to suffocate.

Unless they were being completely protected or unseen, the channeling can be disrupted very easily, and the spell will fail nigh instantly.

Air weavers are able to control their breathing extensively, to very dramatic effect at higher levels of skill. This is what allows them to completely hold their breath without ill-effects for stealth, survive poisoning by gas if they are unable to simply vent it or sustain a field of clean air around them, or stuff extremely, ill-advisedly large portions/servings of food in their mouths in one go.

Bee is still at Initiate level, but at the cusp of graduating to Adept, likely within the next few years after continued apprenticeship under Aeilana. The rest of the class still have a decade or so to go, excluding Weiss and Winter who are exceptional cases.

Tygan is already at Adept level, and remains under Primal Wenua as a post-graduate, assistant teacher. He is 25, and currently has no solid plans for trying to qualify for Master’s Rites.

There is no set minimum age for graduating to Adept, but the average age is 20, standard deviation of 3 or so years.

Only a very small percentage of Weavers ever graduate to the level of Master. Alongside having exceptional skill that far exceeds your peers', you need to have proved that you can apply said powers to the betterment of Fae society in a significant manner, and earn an endorsement from an unbiased source.

This can involve training the newer generations of weavers and pass on your expertise (which can take decades of work, but is considered one of the two surest paths), but it can also be earned through exceptional combat records on the field or even just in the Pits (controversial and easily contested, but relatively faster and easier); through inventions, innovations, and advances in magitech and/or arcane theory (the second surest); outstanding service during a time of crisis (heavily reliant on luck and preparation); or a combination of any of the above.

The endorsement generally comes from a current, retired, or only recently deceased (within five years from their officially recorded date of death) Master Weaver, but non-weaver Fae of sufficiently high standing and influence in the society can endorse someone for the Master’s Rites all the same. In either case, however, there is still a screening board made of Adepts, Masters, and chosen individuals from the other Orders, though an endorsement from a Master Weaver tends to go much smoother.

The actual Rites tend to be a heavily guarded secret, mostly known only to Master’s, the most senior Chroniclers, and the Council, though there are allegedly several variations and ancient temples used for the ritual all over the Valley and the Cradle. There is no stigma to having failed a Master’s Rite, and it is generally considered an honorable distinction all on its own.

Once the title is earned, a Weaver can never be stripped of it, regardless of what they do afterward. The folks who endorsed them are rarely, if ever blamed or stigmatized if a weaver’s career tanks, or they go Rogue after achieving Master status.

As far as everyone’s concerned, as soon as you begin the Rites proper, everything you do from then on is entirely your responsibility, and no one else’s.

Glynda earned the privilege to go through her Rite through her teaching work, and her experience with the Watchers, as a field soldier and as an administrator/officer. Aeilana’s was through a lifetime of Watcher service as both a warrior and trainer, along with several successful high risk missions/expeditions over the years, generally during the Flood.

#the viridian vanguard #rwby #white rose #fanfic

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