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puckinghell · 4 years

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Almost | Nathan MacKinnon

Summary: Every time Nate doesn’t tell you he loves you, he almost does. Until the clock suddenly starts ticking, and almost might not be enough. Words: 5.3k Note: I wrote this all at once and I couldn’t be bothered to read it after to make sure it made sense so excuse me if it doesn’t. We’re in the midst of a global crisis, I couldn’t buy potatoes in the supermarket cause it’s empty, and I don’t have my emotional support dumbass hockey boys, so you can imagine the emotional distress I’m under.

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Nate isn’t very good at flirting.

He knows that, and he’s known that for a long time. Not only because he’s got pretty good self-insight, but also because his teammates have been telling him for years.

In fact, the first time he went out with Tyson, back when he just came onto the Avs and going out was a big deal to him, Tys shook his head and said: “If you don’t learn how to flirt you’re gonna end up dying alone. With a Cup and enough gold to drown in, but alone.”

Nate loves Tys to death, but he still thinks about that night sometimes and wants to kick Tys in the shin.

Because as much as he’s bad at flirting, he never really thought it was a problem. Surely one day a girl would come into his life and she’d like him so much she would do the heavy lifting, and he could just kinda cruise along. Or maybe one day, when the right girl would come into his life, it would all be easy, suddenly.

Except.

He’s pretty sure that you are the right girl. He has been sure about that for the past two years, ever since you became friends. And yet, you’re still friends. Just friends.

Nate thinks he kinda accidentally put himself in the friend zone. At first he thought it was fine if you were just friends, because it would grow into something more naturally.

But one day Gabe turned to him solemnly and said: “Once she’s put you in the ‘Don’t go there’ part of her brain, you’re not coming out of there, bro.”

He’d waved Gabe off, but now he’s starting to think Gabe was right.

Because in the beginning, sometimes, you’d look at him a certain way, or you’d say something, and Nate was certain you meant it in a flirty way. Was sure he saw his own feelings reflected in your eyes. But those times became less and less frequent and now, he can’t remember the last time you looked at him like that. He only knows that you talk to him about dates you go on, like it doesn’t break his heart to think about you with someone else. And you wrap your arms around him so easy and comfortably, like the butterflies in his stomach when you touch him have no right o be there. And you ask to sleep in his bed with him after late movie nights like the thought of it ever being anything more than sleeping has never entered your mind. Nate thinks maybe he’s missed his window, but he also can’t imagine not ending up with you. So he starts his quest of getting you to notice him in a different way.

It’s shortly after he made that decision that he’s finding himself in Gabe’s backyard, a bottle of beer in his hand as he stands next to EJ who is grilling steaks on the barbecue. Gabe’s summer barbecue is somewhat of a staple, for the Avs, and if he thought that having a baby would mean Gabe’s parties would come to an end, Nate was wrong. Gabe flutters through the backyard with Linnea on his arm like he’s never done anything else. He switches his own beer bottle with Linnea’s bottle of milk – or whatever she’s drinking – between people he chats to, and before too long he shows up next to Nate and EJ. “Looking good,” Gabe whistles, looking at the grill. “Nate, are you staring at Y/N again?” Nate swirls around to face his captain; he hadn’t even noticed he was staring at you, but perhaps he was, because he knows you’ve been talking to Josty for the past 15 minutes and he’s not entirely happy about the way Josty leaned into you while he laughed at something you said. “It’s too late, bud,” EJ says, his signature toothless grin appearing. “You’ve waited too long and now she’s going to think you mean everything in a friendly way.” “That’s not true!” Nate starts protesting, even though he knows EJ is just trying to rile him up; but he can’t really make his point because you choose that moment to come over to them. “Are you still not done?” you tease EJ, playfully bumping against his shoulder. “I’m hungry, EJ, can you not grill a little faster?” “Grilling is like art,” EJ grumbles, “you can’t rush it.” “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said,” you answer, your voice filled with fondness. “Ah, there’s Linnea! Can I hold her?” You make grabby hands at the baby and Gabe easily passes her to you, which, honestly, rude. “You never let me hold her!” Nate sputters, and Gabe shrugs. “That’s because Y/N is responsible and you killed the only succulent you had in your house.” “A succulent is not the same as a baby. I could take care of her.” Nate feels extremely offended, even more so when you giggle. “No offense, but if I had to pick someone to take care of Linnea, it would be Y/N, then Colin, then literally anyone else, before it would be you,” says Gabe. “Even Josty?” Nate whines, and at that moment, Mel steps in next to Gabe, putting her hand on his back. “Are we letting Tyson take care of Linnea?” she asks. “Absolutely no way,” Gabe is quick to answer, and you suppose it’s a good thing Josty isn’t here to hear that. “I was just saying I would let Y/N take care of our little girl.” “Oh, would you?” Mel excitedly grasps your shoulder. “Gabe and I haven’t had a date night in like, months! “Sure, I’d love to,” you answer truthfully. You slide your finger into Linnea’s hand, the baby making excited gurgling noises as she clasps down on it. She’s stronger than she looks. “Can I come?” Nate says suddenly. His cheeks are a little tinted, even though it’s not that warm outside anymore. “It could be like, a babysitting date.” “Oh, of course!” you answer. “That’s a perfect idea, Nate! Mel, we should set up a play date for Linnea with my sister’s baby!” You ignore EJ’s cackling laugh and what sounds like a low groan coming from Nate, instead follow Mel to the porch with Linnea in your hands to plan the play date. EJ slings his arm around Nate, grinning a little wickedly as he says: “So close, Nathan. Almost got her.”

Nate elbows him in the stomach loud enough to earn a disapproving tut from Gabe.

Nate tells Sid about his plan during their monthly FaceTime session. “Good luck with that, dude,” Sid says, and it doesn’t even sound that condescending, coming from him. “What do you think I should do?” Nate knows asking Sid for advice on flirting is like asking a blind man for advice on how to see, but he’s getting desperate and he really, really doesn’t want to have to ask Tys. He’d never live that one down. “Uh,” Sid answers, and that’s about as much as Nate was expecting from him, anyway. “Maybe ask her out to dinner, or something?” Actually, that’s more than Nate was expecting from Sid, because that’s actually not the worst idea. Sure, you’ve gone out to dinner together many times, but it was always very clearly not a date setting; either the other guys were there, or it was at a MacDonalds – Nate doesn’t like to go to junkfood places, but he supposes if Tys was gonna leave any imprint on him, it would be his love for McFlurry’s – or it was just dinner at his apartment, wearing sweatpants and ordering Chinese while watching some dumb Netflix show. His chance to ask you comes quicker than he thought, because he’s still talking to Sid – about hockey, this time, something Sid does actually have great advice on – when you come barreling into his apartment. Your hair is wet from the rain and you shrug off your rain coat with a wave in his direction. “It’s pouring,” you tell him, “and I walked to work, so.” To anyone else, it would be a bad explanation, but it’s not the first time you’ve showed up at Nate’s apartment like this. You like to walk to work when it’s not too cold but sometimes the weather surprises you and you don’t want to walk back in the rain or the wind. Nate’s apartment is a lot closer to your work than your apartment, so it’s become a habit of yours to go to Nate’s on days like that and just hang out in his apartment until you either fall asleep there or Nate offers to drive you home. “Is that Y/N?” Sid asks. “Hey, Y/N!” “Hi Sid!” you call back. “Nate, I’m gonna shower.” “Ask her,” Sid says, which is very pushy for Sid, who usually never tells Nate to do anything, instead just says “If I were you, I would consider” and let Nate figure out the underlying message. “Ask me what?” you ask Nate curiously, eyeing him up and down. He’s glaring at Sid as if Sid said something wrong, and when he looks at you, he doesn’t quite catch your eye. “I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me?” Nate asks. It’s a bit of a formal question for something you do at least once a week, but you shrug it off; Nate is a bit weird, sometimes, and you’re used to that. “Sure,” you say. “Let’s order Thai. Get my usual while I’m showering? I’m hungry.” Then you yell: “Bye Sid!” before making your way to the bathroom. Nate lets out a frustrated sigh and Sid sounds sympathetic when he says: “Almost there, dude. Just, next time, if I were you, I’d consider…” Nate is already not listening anymore.

Today is the day, Nate has decided. He bought roses, which EJ told him is lame and Gabe told him is great idea, and he cooked pasta, for which he used Sammy’s recipe. He’s not a good cook, but Sammy promised it’s impossible to mess up, and he thinks he did alright. He texted you this morning to ask you to come to his place for dinner. You replied with a sure :) and Nate takes that to be a good sign. He has a plan. When you walk in, he’ll take your coat, instantly changing the routine between you, because he normally stays on the couch when you open the door with your key. He won’t be wearing sweatpants, either, not even if he expects you might be; he’s wearing black jeans and a nice button up, and he’s even done his hair. Well, made an attempt to; it didn’t really work out and now it looks kinda the same as always, but hey, he’s really trying, here. Next, he’ll lead you to the table, which he’ll actually have set up, and at that point, surely you understand something different is happening, because a set up table is so different from his normal paper plates and Netflix. Then he’ll give you the roses and confess his feelings. He’s not really thought that part through too much, because every time he thinks about it he almost throws up. So. He’ll have to wing that. The problem, Nate finds out, with planning everything to perfection, is that when one thing goes wrong, the entire plan has to go out the window. Because half an hour after you were supposed to arrive, he gets a text saying sorry I’m late! Be there in 10 and he knows he’s gonna have to reheat the pasta, which Sammy said was not the point of pasta. But he’s not gonna kick off and cause a scene when you arrive, because he reasons it doesn’t really matter, in the grand scale of things. So he sits on the couch and waits. Finally, the door swings open and Nate jumps to his feet, ready to take your coat from you. Except, you’re not wearing a coat; you’re wearing his old hoodie and for some reason his breath hitches in his throat and suddenly he feels like his feet are nailed to the floor, unable to move. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” you call, basically running further into the apartment. “I came from the gym and let me tell you, I have got great news!” “News?” Nate echoes. You stop right in front of him, your eyes shining and a bright smile on your face. Suddenly, you lift an eyebrow, eyes catching on something. “Nathan MacKinnon, did you do something to your hair?” Before Nate can answer, you shrug and continue. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Guess what happened at the gym!” “What?” Nate seems to only be able to repeat what you say, so he decides to stick with that. “I got asked on a date!” Nate thinks if he had one wish, he would wish for the floor to open up beneath his feet and for him to sink through the building, all 7 floors below his apartment, and then down into the ground, until he could bury himself in the dirt. “A date?” You’re so hyped you don’t even notice your best friend is simply repeating your words, barely reacting in any other way. “He’s so hot, this guy, Nate! He comes to the gym every Thursday, just like I do, and we never talk but sometimes I catch him looking, and like, I look back, you know? And today he came over and he asked if I wanted to get a drink, but obviously I had plans with you and I would never blow you off, so I said we could do it tomorrow. I have a date tomorrow, Nate!” In your excitement, you reach forward and wrap your arms around Nate, pressing your face into his chest. His heart is beating fast, and you notice that he kinda just remains frozen into place, so you look up at him with a frown. “Nate? You okay?” That seems to shake Nate from his trance, as he literally shakes himself out of it and slowly puts his arms around you. With a happy sigh, you allow yourself to sink into the embrace. “What are we eating, anyway? I’m hungry.” Nate praises any and every God there could possibly be that he decided to leave the door to the dining room closed. “Whatever you want, we can order,” he answers. “I’m just gonna, uh, get changed.” “I thought you looked fancy,” you grin, letting go of him and dropping onto the couch. “What about Italian?” Hours later, Nate throws away the empty pizza boxes and puts the roses in the bin with them, and then he goes to his bedroom to scream into a pillow. He wants to call you, wants to ask you to not go on a date with that guy. But then he thinks about how excited you looked and he doesn’t call. He doesn’t call, but he almost does, and he thinks that’s a pretty good way to describe how his life is going.

Nate has truly hit rock bottom, which is why he’s scrolling through his phone until he finds the familiar name. “Dogggg!” Tys yells into the phone, because he can never answer the phone like a normal person. “I’m baking chocolate chip cookies!” And Nate is suddenly a little overwhelmed with how much he misses his best friend. “Baking?” he teases. “What kinda mental breakdown are you going through this time?” “Hey, fuck you,” Tys says, but he sounds mellow and not bothered at all. “What’s up?” And Nate has been planning to ease into this conversation, have a little small talk, maybe talk about Toronto and how the coaching change has been working out for Tys, but Tys is his best friend – apart from you – and suddenly he can’t keep it to himself anymore. “I’m in love with Y/N,” he blurts out, and he hears a clank on the other side of the line that sounds suspiciously like Tyson dropping a spoon. “Well, yeah,” Tys comes back, a little too calmly for Nate’s liking. “But I meant like, what’s up with you that’s new, Dogg.” “I need to do something about it,” Nate says, and that seems to get Tyson’s attention, cause he suddenly sounds a lot more interested when he says: “Oh?” “Cause like,” Nate starts, and he knows he’s about to start rambling. “Cause I’m so into her, you know, and I have been for so long, but I don’t think she sees me that way? And maybe if I would’ve done something sooner, she would’ve thought of me as an option, and she wouldn’t be going out with that guy right now..” “Wow hold up,” Tyson interrupts. “Wait, she’s got a boyfriend?” “No!” The force with which that word erupts from Nate’s mouth is maybe a little too telling, cause Tyson immediately goes into ‘calm down Nate’ mode. “Hey, hey, it’s just a date or two, right?” he soothes. “It’s totally not serious yet. And you and her, you’ve got history, dude. She loves you! There’s still time!” “What if she doesn’t love me in that way, though?” Nate asks, and he hates how tiny his voice sounds. “Then she’s got no taste, Nate,” Tyson says, awfully genuine. “You’d be an awesome boyfriend. Hell, you’ve basically been her boyfriend, you two act like a couple all the time.” Nate hadn’t thought of it like that. “Cause like, you’re always hanging out together, right?” Tys continues. “And you bring her to all your events as your plus one. She cooks you dinner at least once a week. You pick her up and drop her off when it’s raining and she doesn’t wanna walk. You always get her a Christmas present. She even bakes your favorite cookies when you’ve had a tough game.” He sounds slightly jealous when he says: “Cookies, bro! That’s true love.” And, well, Nate had always thought that was just a friend thing, but when he thinks about it, he doesn’t really treat any of his other friends that way. Has never picked up his phone at 4 am because Sid was calling, never ran a bath for Tys after a long day. Maybe, in a way, he has been acting like your boyfriend. Except. “We don’t kiss and stuff, though.” Tyson laughs. “And stuff. I bet you want the stuff, huh, bro?” “Shut up,” Nate grumbles, but he’s too thankful for Tyson’s input to put much heat behind it. “Brutes, what do I do?” “You need to complete the package, Dogg,” Tys says, sounding confident. “You’re almost her boyfriend. Now go get that kiss and be it for real.”

Nate is not usually a big drinker, but this, he needs to be super, super drunk for. “Careful,” Burky says, as he watches Nate slam back another shot. “That’s a lot of alcohol, Nate.” “You gonna call Gabe on me?” Nate says, defiant, and Burky shrugs. “No, but if you need to be carried home, I’ll get Z to do it.” That’s enough for Nate to not order another shot right away. “He’s upset because Y/N is here with a guy.” It’s Comphy who speaks, in a dull tone like he’s talking about the weather. Josty, who is with them too, sits up a little straighter. “She came with a guy?” “Shut up,” Nate all but growls. “I didn’t know when I invited her the invitation would be extended.” He really hadn’t; he’d asked you to come out with the boys after the game because he found out you were bringing the guy – Nate purposely forgets his name every time – and he figured he was running out of time. At least if he kept you out all night you couldn’t go home with the guy, and he might find the courage to tell you how he feels. Except then you’d shown up with the guy in tow, and now he’s wondering if it’s possible to drown himself in tequila. He must’ve looked properly miserable for the guys to crowd around him like they are; Gabe went home because he’s a dad now, but Comph and Josty and Burky are all sitting with him, refusing to have fun now that their assistant captain looks ready to commit a crime, and Z and EJ both keep shooting worried glances his way. Nate really doesn’t care. What he cares about is that you’re with with a guy that’s not him, and you’ve barely paid attention to him. He’s just about drunk enough that that annoyance is starting to become unbearable, and just drunk enough that it seems like a good idea to do something about it. “Nate, no…” Burky starts, when Nate stands up, and Comphy reaches for him, but even drunk Nate is quicker than them and he starts pushing his way through the crowd, to where you’re standing with the guy and laughing at something he’s saying. You feel two strong arms wrap around your waist, the grip almost too tight as you’re pushed flat against a muscular chest. For a second, you freeze, ready to fight, but then you smell familiar cologne and you recognize the arms that are wrapped around you in iron grip. “Nate?” you say. “Everything okay?” Nate hums in your ear but it’s not really words; just a low hum that makes something tingle in the pit of your stomach. If only Tom knew the effect Nate has on you, he probably wouldn’t be here. As it is, Tom’s eyes are wide as he stares at Nate. You did tell him you knew people on the team and that’s why you could get tickets to the Avs game so last minute, but you’d forgone the mention that your “contact” is Nathan MacKinnon; for some reason, you didn’t really want those worlds to mix just yet. Maybe that’s why you’d been keeping your distance from Nate, tonight. Normally, Nate isn’t the kinda guy to come chasing you down, but you can smell the alcohol on his breathe and his words slur a little when he says: “Where have you been?” Your heart starts beating a little faster. “Here,” you say, trying to ignore the dark tone to Nate’s voice. To say you’re confused in an understatement: Nate sounds almost angry, but he’s clinging to you like he’s not ever letting you go, so surely he can’t be angry at you. You wish Tom wasn’t here. If you’d been alone, you would’ve dragged Nate outside and talked to your best friend, figured out what’s bothering him, because it’s clear there’s something and you don’t like knowing that he’s carrying it alone. Nate has a tendency to carry the entire world on his shoulders, on his own, even when there’s so many people who would share the burden with him. “Dude,” Tom says, “you’re Nathan MacKinnon!” You feel Nate tense behind you. You know he doesn’t like to be recognized in public spaces but honestly, Tom didn’t speak loudly, and he’s not making a scene, so you wiggle out of Nate’s hold and put your hand on his arm.

Usually, that calms him down. “Yeah, Tom, this is my friend Nate. Nate, this is Tom.” Nate’s face is schooled into perfect indifference as he shakes the hand Tom holds out to him; the only thing betraying that he’s annoyed is the fact that his other, free, hand is balled into a fist and his knuckles are white. “Good to meet you, man,” Tom says. “That was such a nice goal there in the 2nd, holy shit dude! I’m like, such a big fan of you!” You cringe a little as Nate narrows his eyes. “Thanks,” he says, and he could not sound more bored if he tried. Even Tom shifts on his feet and nervously looks towards the floor. Then Nate’s hand finds its way to your lower back, his thumb dipping under your shirt. You feel like all the blood is rushing through your cheeks, and when Tom frowns, you feel like you could pass out. “Nice to meet you,” Nate says, in a tone that makes it clear he’d rather undergo a colonoscopy than ever speak to Tom again. “But can I borrow my girl for a second?” My girl? “Nate, what the…” you sputter, but you’re already being pushed through the crowd towards the exit, and before you know it you’re standing in a dark alley with your back to the brick wall of the club. Nate is standing close, so close you can feel his breath against your cheek when he exhales. His eyes are big and a bit wild, and you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat as clearly as you can. “Nate…” You mean to ask him what’s going on, but for some reason his name comes out of your mouth in a quiet rush of air, and it seems to do something to Nate, who inhales sharply and drops his head a little, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I hate it,” he mutters, the words soft enough that you can only make them out because it’s just the two of you in the silent outside air. “Hate what?” “Seeing you with him.” Those words hit you like a freight train, and all you manage to bring out is a soft “uhm”. “I can’t watch you with him,” Nate whispers. His hands are against the wall but his chest is pressed up against yours, and slowly but surely, he’s leaning in. And that’s when you realize, oh. Nate is going to kiss you. To your own surprise, that doesn’t shock you. It’s not some big thing that throws the world of its axis, that shakes the ground beneath your feet. It’s just a realization and then a soft, warm feeling of comfort spreading through your body. You want him to kiss you so badly, but it’s not like something is exploding, knowing that he wants it too. Instead, it’s like something finally falls into place.

“Y/N?” a voice goes, and you almost whine out loud. Nate jumps back like he’s been stung. He stares at you with wide eyes, the color drained from his face, and then he turns around and all but runs away. Tom watches him leave, then faces you, and in that moment you know four things absolutely certain. Nate was jealous. You’re never going to go on another date with Tom. Nate almost kissed you. And almost wasn’t enough.

Nate wakes up with a banging headache, the taste of dirt in his mouth and 20 missed text messages. Most of the messages are from Tyson, and there’s one from EJ, who is apparently the one that told Tyson about last night in the first place, because his text simply reads: Had to tell Brutes. You need help. Which is probably fair enough. There’s a text from Josty offering support, one from Burky asking if he got home safe, one from Gabe that Nate doesn’t read because he doesn’t want to see Gabe’s disappointed face every time he closes his eyes for the next few days, and then there’s a text from you. We have to talk. Well, fuck. Nate doesn’t have a lot of experience with relationships, but he knows that’s never a good sign. Nate knows that you know him well enough to have figured out that he was drunk last night, so you probably don’t expect him to be up yet. He takes advantage of that time by taking a shower and brushing his teeth at least four times until he can no longer taste the tequila in the back of his throat, making a cup of coffee and having a freak out at his kitchen counter because surely you’re going to tell him to never talk to you again. Not only did he not have the balls to tell you how he feels about you, he also acted like an asshole to a guy you apparently like – although Nate has no clue why, because he seemed boring as hell – and then he nearly kissed you but instead ran away. Not a great track record. It’s nearly noon when he finally gathers up the courage to call you. After all, you’ve given him two years of friendship, so that’s the least he can do. “Hey,” he says softly into the phone when the connection clicks through. “It’s Nate.” “I know,” you answer, and he’s surprised by how light your tone is. “I have caller ID, Nate. Have had it for years.” It throws him off, how normal you sound. There’s nothing in your voice to betray that you’re mad at him, or that you hate him. He almost forgets what he was going to say. Almost, but not quite. “I’m really sorry about last night,” he blurts out. “Do you mind if I come over so we can talk about it?” “Uhm,” you hesitate, and Nate’s heart sinks into the pit of his stomach. “Actually, I’m almost at your apartment.” “Oh.” Nate had not expected that. “Uhm, okay. I’ll be here, then.” You laugh. “Yeah, I hoped you would be. See you in a bit, Nate.” It takes you another 6 minutes to arrive; Nate knows it’s exactly 6 because he stares at the hands of the clock while he waits, while simultaneously thinking of all the possible scenarios in which you could break his heart. When you walk into the kitchen, he feels like he’s about to throw up. “You don’t look great,” is the first thing you say to him. “Have you had breakfast? You know hangovers get worse when you don’t eat.” And that’s... Not quite what Nate was expecting. “Yoohoo, Nate?” You wave your hand in front of his pale face, as Nate stares at you and doesn’t speak. “Are you okay?” “You hate me,” Nate blurts out then, and instantly his eyes fix on the floor in shame. “Or, you should.” You frown. “Why? Because you were a jealous dick last night?” Nate’s face turns from white to a bright shade of pink. You smile, walk to Nate who’s sitting on a barstool at the counter, and carefully push open his knees, so you can slide in between his legs. If Nate’s eyes go any wider, you worry they might fall out. “Last night,” you repeat, “you were jealous. Of Tom.” It’s not a question, but Nate still nods, avoiding your eyes as he does. “And then you were going to kiss me.” Not a question either, and this time Nate doesn’t respond. “Nate,” you say softly, and the warmth in your tone must be what finally gets Nate to look up at you, his eyes locking with yours. “Do you still want to kiss me?” “I do,” Nate says. His voice is a little shaky but he needs to get this out, because he needs you to know this. “I always want to kiss you.” “Why haven’t you?” you ask. The answer is not really an answer, but it means everything anyway. “I almost did,” Nate says. “So many times, Y/N. So many times I almost did.” “Almost, almost,” you repeat, rolling your eyes, and then you slide your hands behind Nate’s neck and kiss him. He almost stumbles, his hands gripping your waist as if he’s afraid he’ll fall right onto the floor if he doesn’t have something to hold onto. But he’s kissing you back right away, his mouth soft yet forceful at the same time. Like he’s never going to stop kissing you. You don’t think you ever want him to.

It’s late at night and the streets of Denver are quiet beneath Nate’s apartment. He’s laying on his back and you’re draped across his chest, naked bodies tangled together under the sheets. He’s not sure if you’re asleep; your breathing is shallow and even, but every now and then your fingers tighten around where they’re wrapped around his arm, and he wonders if you’re dreaming, or simply checking if he’s still there. As if he would ever leave. Nate can’t help himself; he lightly presses his lips against your hair, the ghost of a kiss against your skin. You hum softly. “Nate?” “Yeah,” he whispers. “It’s me.” A lazy giggle escapes your lips. “Thank God it’s not someone else.” The silence returns, but this time it’s heavy with something Nate knows you’re not saying. “What are you thinking about?” he mumbles, tracing circles on the naked skin of your back. Your answer shakes something inside of him. “That I almost didn’t get to have this.” He thinks of all the times he almost said something to you but didn’t, and curses himself for all the time lost. “Almost didn’t, but we did, and that’s what matters, right?” he speaks into the darkness.

You smile.

You know you’re not dreaming, but you almost can’t believe you aren’t.

Almost.

#nathan mackinnon #colorado avalanche #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl imagines

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ladygayfeels · 6 years

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In Love With My Best Friend

Frank watched as his daughter dropped her phone and ran upstairs, slamming her bedroom door shut. His wife, Grace pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers and sighed. “What’s going on here?” he asked, sliding the back door shut behind him. Grace glanced up at him and groaned. “From what I gathered of her yelling, Chloe and Tom just broke up… and somebody doesn’t approve of her best friend coming around the house anymore, so what do you expect, Frank, huh?” She grew impatient as she spoke, scowling at him from across the room.

There had been an uncomfortable cloud of tension looming over the house ever since he’d found out that his daughter’s best friend was a lesbian. He’d panicked and said some things he shouldn’t’ve, like banning Beca from entering the house and spending any time with his little girl. His sweet and innocent little Chloe.

Chloe hadn’t spoken to him, let alone looked at him, in the eight days since he made a colossal mess of things. It’s just, he’d panicked when Grace had pointed out to him the way that Beca looks at Chloe when she isn’t looking. They’d been sitting on the couch having their monthly movie night, which Beca has been apart of for years since the girls first become friends, and it was just like any other night, until Grace had pointed this out to him.

So without over-thinking, he picked up Chloe’s phone from where she’d threw it on the floor and rang Beca. “Chlo, you know you can’t ring me. It’s Friday… your dad will kill me if he knew you were ringing me, no matter how much I’ve missed you all week.” Beca sounded defeated.

A slight twinge struck Frank’s chest as he heard the clear upset he’d caused both girls. Clearing his throat, he turned away from Grace’ weary gaze. “Beca, this is Frank… Chloe’s dad.” he said trying not to sound too awkward. Wincing slightly as he heard Grace’ sharp intake of breath and cross the room to give him a warning stare.

“Sir? Is Chloe alright?” she asked, the confusion in her tone bordering worry.

“Would you mind stopping by the house?” he asked politely, seeing Grace’ eyes bug out of her head, and a small smirk play on her lips as he rolled his eyes at her. “I-I’ll be there in five minutes.” she stuttered, hanging up instantly.

Sure enough, four minutes and fifty-eight seconds later, Beca was throwing her bike on the lawn and knocking on the door frantically. Frank answered the door, Grace standing behind him smiling apologetically at the young girl in greeting. Beca’s gaze flickered between the two of them, as unbidden tears filled her eyes and her panting increased. “Where is she? Is she okay? Oh god, what happened?” her voice broke as a tear slipped down her face.

Realisation dawned on Grace’ face and she slapped Frank’s arm, scolding him as she mumbled under her breath something that sounded a lot like, “Jesus, Frank! Are you trying to scare the poor girl to death.” Grace turned her attention back to the young woman before her. “Chloe isn’t hurt, Dear. She just broke up with that boyfriend of hers.” she explained quietly, glancing to the top of the staircase toward Chloe’s room.

Relief washed over Beca as the woman’s words sank in. She rest her hands on her knees and took a few deep, steadying breaths. Clearly she’d assumed the worst. Not a second later, she was straightening up, her face stoic, but the rage shone behind her eyes. “Do you want me to kill him? Because I’ll kill him.” she spoke through clenched teeth.

Frank smiled involuntarily and huffed a short laugh. “Actually, no. I’d like to speak to you if that’s alright?” he asked, motioning to the living room. Beca’s gaze once again switched between Frank and Grace, at the woman’s confused shrug of her shoulders, Beca took a deep breath and hesitantly made her way into the house, wiping her sweating palms on her thighs as she went.

Beca stood awkwardly and Grace sat on the couch, both looking at Frank expectantly. “I wanted to apologise for how I’ve handled this situation.” he began, shooting Beca an apologetic smile. She stood there in shock and Grace smiled, settling herself further into the couch’s embrace.

“Y’see, I was brought up believing that love…” he hesitated a moment when he saw the young woman tense up at the word Love. He cleared his throat again, scratching the back of his neck as he continued. “…should be between a man and a woman because that’s what I was taught. And I was ignorant to think that just because I believed that, then Chloe would too. Now I’m not using my ‘age’ or the ‘era I grew up in’ as an excuse, because I’m not disregarding the way I handled things, but I came to the realisation that if a man won’t treat my Chloe the was she deserves, with the utmost love and respect... to make her feel safe and above all else, happy… then who am I to say that a woman can’t give her those things?” he finished his improvised rambling, his eyes trained on his shoes as his face grew red. Beca’s face went bright red and Grace wiped her eyes.

At the feel of Grace poking his shin with her toe, he continued, his gaze lifting to the ceiling this time as he took a deep breath, thinking. His eyes eventually landed on the girl, no, young woman standing before him. “We’ve known you for years, Beca, and I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel unsafe and unwelcome. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in this house.” he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. Shame etched all over his face. “I know you love her and probably have for sometime now, and I’m so ashamed at how I’ve handled things. I don’t expect your forgiveness, but I’d really appreciate it if you could make Chloe happy again.” he pleaded. Glancing at Grace, he added when she nodded at him encouragingly. “You’re welcome to stay the night, if that’s what she wishes.”

A silence that wasn’t totally uncomfortable settled over the room as the words exchanged hung loosely in the air. After what seemed like forever, but in reality was probably only a few minutes, Beca stepped forward and took Chloe’s phone from Frank’s grasp, before placing her free hand on his shoulder. “I’ve already forgiven you, Sir.” she said truthfully, still unable to quite make lasting eye contact, but she smiled stiffly as his shoulders relaxed significantly at her words.

“Chloe is so important to me, and after some thought... I understood your reaction, and I told Chloe as much. She deserves the best and I will do everything in my power to do that, Sir.” she said nodding, before making her way to the staircase and taking the stairs three at a time.

Beca took a deep breath as her left hand clutched the doorknob to Chloe’s bedroom. She knocked with her right hand, her heart squeezing painfully as she heard sobs from the other side of the door. A muffled “Go away, Mom. I don’t want to talk right now.” sounded through the door and Beca winced at how broken her best friend sounded. She opened the door a fraction and her heart squeezed painfully as she saw Chloe crumpled on her bed. She cleared her throat slightly before speaking.

“Mind if I come in?” she asked quietly. A small smiled curved her lips at just how fast Chloe’s head shot up at the sound of her voice.

The redhead sat bolt upright at the sound of her best friend’s voice. She blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.

“H-how are you here?” was all she managed to choke out.

Beca took that as enough invitation to step into the room, so she did, closing the door behind her. “Your dad called me.” she said, shoving her hands into her back pockets and rocking back and forth on her feet.

“My dad?” Chloe’s face scrunched up adorably in confusion and Beca felt her heart skip at the sight. She took a hesitant step forward and glanced up from her feet to her friend.

“I’ll explain later, just please tell me you’re alright?” she pleaded, her brow creased with worry.

Chloe could tell that Beca was restraining herself from reaching out, by having her hands in her pockets, so she pulled the covers of her bed back, motioning for the brunette to join her and a watery smile spread on her face as Beca climbed into the bed beside her instantly.

As if by instinct, Chloe curled herself into Beca’s side, burrowing her face into the crook of the brunette’s neck. Beca smelled good. She always did, but Chloe had never really let herself just enjoy it.

She took a steadying breath and sighed as she felt Beca’s arm circle her waist, cuddling her closer. “I missed you.” Chloe breathed, sniffling and Beca chuckled quietly, her fingertips tracing soothing patterns on Chloe’s back.

“You saw me an hour ago when we got off the bus together?” the brunette replied, smiling as she pressed a chaste kiss to Chloe’s temple absentmindedly.

“I know.” Chloe mumbled self-consciously, “Doesn’t mean I can’t miss you though.” she sighed.

Beca’s hold on her tightened as she felt tears on her shoulder. “I missed you too.” she whispered into Chloe’s hair, “More than you know.” she admitted, the words slipping from her mouth.

They lay in each other’s arms in companionable silence for awhile, until Beca broke the silence, her curiosity finally getting the better of her. “What happened, Chlo?” she asked, her free hand sifting through fiery red hair. “I thought you and Tom were happy?” she asked, laying on her side, resting her head on her propped-up hand, as she looked down at her best friend.

“I thought we were too.” Chloe sighed, leaning back to look Beca in the eye.

Beca tucked a stray red curl, back behind Chloe’s ear before wiping the tear tracks from her best friend’s freckled cheeks.

She smiled sadly down at Chloe, “I don’t like it when you’re sad, Chlo. What can I do?” she asked, taking comfort in the way the redhead leant into her touch and closed her eyes briefly, as a little content sigh escaped her lips.

“I’m not sad when you’re here.” Chloe answered, smiling shyly and averting her gaze to the button on Beca’s plaid shirt that her fingers were playing with distractedly.

Beca tilted Chloe’s head up gently, lifting her chin with the hand she extracted from Chloe’s red hair. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” She said, as she caressed the girl’s cheek, once Chloe met her gaze.

Suddenly Chloe sat up and turned to face Beca, she crossed her legs awkwardly. Beca noticed she was biting her lips and wringing her hands, both tell-tale signs that the redhead was nervous.

Sitting up slowly, the brunette mirrored Chloe’s posture, raising her brows expectantly before squeezing the girl’s knee reassuringly.

“Okay, so I broke up with Tom.” Chloe blurted out and Beca looked at her in disbelief. Neither one of them knew what to say next, just staring at each other, both of them trying desperately to read the other but coming up blank.

“And... you… take it back? I’m confused, what happened?” Beca asked, trying to piece together what could’ve possibly happened, in her mind.

“Tom is... an alright guy… and was an alright boyfriend, I suppose... but I don’t think I feel about him the way that a girlfriend should, y’know?” Chloe stumbled over her own words and raked a hand through her hair, sighing at herself. “That probably made no sense.” she hid her face in her hands.

Beca gently pried Chloe’s hands from her face and smirked at her briefly. “I understood what you said… but wasn’t Tom your first proper boyfriend?” she asked and Chloe nodded, “So how can you possibly know that you don’t feel how a girlfriend should when you’ve not had a boyfriend before?” she asked tilting her head slightly.

Chloe just stared at her, lost in a trance as her mind filled with thoughts of how breathtaking her best friend looked with the setting sun casting an almost angelic glow on her face. “Earth to Chlo?” Beca grinned, her cheeks flushing red as she tickled Chloe’s side to get her attention.

Chloe broke out of her thoughts giggling and swatting Beca’s hand away, unable to stop her heart from racing as she collected her thoughts, and took the leap of faith she’d been meaning to for awhile now.

She took ahold of Beca’s hands, smiling bashfully as their fingers intertwined in the brunette’s lap. She took a deep breath and kept her focus on their interlaced hands.

“I know that I don’t feel the way I’m supposed to about Tom…” she began to say, and only continued when Beca squeezed her hand encouragingly, “Because I feel that way… about… you.” she mumbled that last part, her face heating up significantly as a furious blush coloured her cheeks.

Beca sat in shock, her eyes trained on every twitch of Chloe’s face, which was still pointed down at their hands.

The brunette had been quiet for so long, that Chloe eventually glanced up at her from beneath her lashes and found Beca’s eyes shut, her lips a straight line.

The silence, Chloe concluded, was a rejection and tears sprang to her eyes as the feeling washed through her, embarrassment surging through her veins. She tried to extract her hands from Beca’s, when she felt a gentle squeeze on her fingers. Glancing up again, only when she heard the brunette exhale a shaking breath.

“Please tell me that when I open my eyes, this won’t have all been some beautiful torturous dream? she asked, her voice trembling and Chloe noticed the brunette’s bottom lip quiver.

Chloe could hear the pain in Beca’s voice and did the only thing she knew would help. She leant forward to rest her forehead against the brunette’s. Upon contact, a single tear ran down Beca’s face and Chloe kissed it away chastely, waiting with baited breath as Beca exhaled another shaking breath.

The brunette opened her eyes a second later, her breath catching audibly as she stared into eyes of her best friend. The girl she’d been hopelessly in love with for eleven years, probably longer than that though, most likely since the moment they met.

“Is… is that okay? That I like you, I mean?” Chloe stuttered and bit her lip. The action did not go unnoticed by Beca. The brunette swallowed carefully, before lifting her gaze to from Chloe’s lips to her eyes once more.

“More than okay.” Beca huffed a laugh in disbelief that this was actually happening. The brunette lay back down on her side again, propping her head up and tugged Chloe back down to lay beside her too.

Ever so slowly, she reached up to caress Chloe’s cheek with her free hand. “You are so beautiful…” she said watching as a blush coloured Chloe’s cheeks crimson, and she squirmed under her adoring gaze.

The smile from her face dimmed just a little though, as she spoke her most cherished confession aloud for the very first time.

“And I am completely and utterly in love with you.” she breathed, her whole body tensing up, despite Chloe having just admit to having feelings for her, she couldn’t help but expect the worst.

Chloe’s eyes searched Beca’s, a look of wonder in her eyes as her hands reached up and clasped together behind Beca’s neck. Her eyes fluttered closed as she lightly tugged her best friend towards her, and captured her lips in a soft kiss, that left both of their hearts pounding.

“I’m so in love with you.” Chloe whispered against her lips, giggling as Beca proceeded to place quick pecks on her forehead, her eyes, the tip of her nose, both of her cheek multiple times, before lingering on the edge of her lips.

Pure joy radiated through her and into Chloe in that moment. Both of them finally giving in to what they both desired most in this world, and allowing themselves to be truly happy.

Chloe’s cheeks ached from smiling so much, as she lay looking up into the eyes of her favourite person in the whole entire world, the same person who by some miracle loved her just as much as she did her.

Being wrapped in her arms and feeling Beca’s smile against the crook of her neck was the very definition of bliss. It didn’t matter what anyone thought of them, or said about them, they cared about each other unconditionally, that’s all that mattered.

#bechloe #bechloe au #bechloe fanfic #beca x chloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #Pitch Perfect #fluff #angst #true love #confessions

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iluvmyogblog · 6 years

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Roommates, Routines and Best Friends

A/N: So to be completely honest with you guys, i have written several versions of this part and am still so conflicted. I hope this comes out great, and i hope u guys love it n fall apart n ALLLL that good stuff. btw doesnt sebby look like a fuckinggggggg dream.........

Summary: (AU) being roommates with the infamous womanizer Bucky Barnes is tough, especially when all he does is bring home different girls every night and complain about you and your choice of men. masterlist.

Words: 2768

Warning(s): language, always!!!

Roommates, Routines and Best Friends : Today A Month Ago

Today marks exactly a month since you met Steve. A month since that stupidly amazing party Bucky dragged you to. You and Steve decided to be cheesy and celebrate today. Bucky protested, saying that it was so annoying when new couples did that. But you and Steve weren’t a couple. Not yet. It’s only been a month! You’re not one to jump into a relationship so quickly, especially after the whole Sam thing. You were still a little scared to put yourself out there. You would always have long talks about that with Bucky. Always. And he’d always know exactly what to say. Always.

You were walking to the kitchen when you see Bucky also walking out of his room. You flash him a quick smile. That smile was enough to make Bucky’s heart jump out of his chest. “Good morning, doll.”

“Good morning, Buck,” you nearly whispered. You were so tired. Your energy was drained from you, your hair was a mess and you had bags under your eyes. You were excited about seeing Steve today but the part of you that wants to climb back into bed hopes that he gets busy all of a sudden.

“Woah, don’t you look dapper this morning,” Bucky chuckles and pours you a glass of orange juice as he watches you slump into a chair. You don’t say anything, you just put your head down and groan. Bucky sighs softly and walks over to you, sliding the orange juice into your hand. The tip of his fingers brush against the palm of your hand. You feel him start to ruffle your hair, tangling it even more. You groan again, ignoring how good it felt.

Bucky continues to look at you. He continues to play with your hair. He starts to imagine what it would be like if you two were more than friends. If you two were more than just roommates. If you two shared the same bed. “Hey Buck, can you carry me to my bed. I’m too tired to be awake right now, I don’t even know why I got up,” you mumble. Bucky nods and you feel his arms swoop you up. You wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his chest as he carries you back to your room. You soon feel yourself being put down on fluffy comforters that smell like Bucky.

“My bed is more comfortable than yours,” you hear Bucky whisper as he tucked you in. He wasn’t wrong. His sheets were always washed and switched out- because of you know, his special lady guests. You nod and snuggle deeper into the sheets, grabbing a pillow and snuggling up to that as well. You open one eye and watch Bucky walk across his room and close the curtains. You smiled softly at that notion. Before you two began to even stand each other, you had always complained about how dark his room was. ‘And for crying out loud, open your curtains. Don’t be so depressing all the damn time, Bucky.’ you would say.

“Hey, (y/n). Can I ask you something,” Bucky questioned. Sitting up, you watch the dark haired man look at you shyly. You knit your eyebrows in concern, partly confused as well. He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and slowly sits at the edge of his bed. To the both of you, it felt like the room was closing in. You weren’t sure what it could be nor were you sure how you would answer the question.

“Of course, Buck,” you gently say as you rest your hand on his shoulder.

“What did you mean by what you said a while back? About the party? And me going with you... like on a date? What did you mean?”

The redness on your cheeks start to show, your stomach tangling in knots. You should’ve seen this coming. You should’ve known he’d bring it up. You just shouldn’t have said anything. You gulp and look at your hands. “I just- I.. I don’t know Bucky. For some strange reason I just thought for a second that you had asked me out on a date. You know? I mean I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, I’m not confessing any feelings... cause there’s none. I just thought it was a date. You know how weird I get when guys ask me to hang out with them.”

“But it’s us, doll. What’s there to be weird about? You know I wouldn’t be grossed out or anything.. I mean, maybe a little,” he teased, brightening the mood. He sees how tense your shoulders are. He needed to lighten the mood. He just put you on the spot. You weren’t used to that. The remark worked, and you laughed. Relaxing yourself a bit more.

“You’re the worst, James.” He chuckles and playfully nudges you. You nudge him back, which just causes him to just push you a little harder. The two of you were laughing, honestly kind of forgetting how thick the air was a few seconds ago. You let yourself fall back onto his sheets, staring up at the ceiling as you cross your hands on your stomach. Bucky shifts and props himself up on his elbow, looking at you. You tug on your bottom lip, thinking about the party again. You hated that you read signs wrong. You weren’t too dapper about social cues. “So, quick question. Did you take that blonde chick home?”

He stays quiet for a few seconds, staring at you. Watching your smirk disappear once you notice he’s been quiet for far too long. He watches you turn your head to him, eyes meeting his. He shakes his head, “no. Honestly, I just said I got laid. I don’t know why. I lied to you.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him. His brown hair a beautiful mess on top of his head. His stupid eyes burning holes through you with that dumb twinkle he always has in them. His perfectly sculpted arms that complimented every shirt he wore. “Why,” you whisper, completely confused. You truthfully didn’t know that he was even capable of lying to you. He also thought you’d see right through him when he lied. And honestly, you would’ve if it hadn’t been for Steve. Steve, the charming guy you met at the party. Steve who left his friends to drink a glass of champagne with you.

“Do you know what happened? When I left to get you a drink?” You shake your head and wait for him to continue. He breaks eye contact and looks at his hands. He starts to fiddle with them. He did that when he was nervous. You would always grab his hands when he did that, just in case he needed comfort. Which he always did. He was a baby, in a way. He loved affection. Probably why he couldn’t sleep more than three nights alone. “As soon as I left your side, I got a text from a friend. Well, from Steve.” Pause. Looks up at you, then quickly back to his hands. “Steve says, ‘tell me she said yes’. Steve was the one who persuaded me to ask a certain girl out.”

“Wait, who?” Your heart was racing. You began to think that he actually did ask you out. And you had totally ditched him for Steve.

“Um, I- I never told you about her. But I worked with her. She’s really badass, you know? Plus she’s really really h-”

“I get the picture.”

Bucky nods, “right. Well she said she was busy. So obviously that’s a no. I wasn’t gonna go. But Mr. Stark insisted that I do.”

He pauses and watches you. You were trying to piece the puzzle together while staring at your feet. “So.. I was a back up plan?” You tried to hide the obvious sting with a slight nudge and a smirk. Bucky saw right through that.

“No, doll. Don’t say that. I had a good time,” he says. You nod, feeling his fingers tug the hemline of your shirt. “I text Steve back. Told him I was at the party with someone better, cooler. And prettier, way prettier.” You laugh and shake your head, ignoring his attempts to win you back. “And Steve wanted to meet up. He was with a friend also. His friend was meeting up with his girlfriend and Steve wanted to drink a beer with me. He didn’t wanna be alone, you know? But I told him I was here with someone. He said alright, went on his own, I went to get you that drink you wanted. Then that girl-”

“The blonde bimbo that was basically undressing you with her eye-”

“She had a boyfriend, (y/n). He was standing right next to her. They wanted to know what drink I ordered. Said it looked fancy,” Bucky interrupts. You felt dumb. You felt embarrassed. Shocked.

You let out a breathless laugh, staring at the ceiling now. “It’s the cherries and olives. Always pick the right garnishes,” you whisper.

“Then I saw you with Steve..,” he trails off, causing you to look at him. “You looked good. Standing next to him. Like you two were made for each other. Then you laughed, and I swear, I knew right there... I knew that it wasn’t a date.”

“Bucky, what are you trying to say?”

You’re now sitting up, staring straight into his eyes. Heart pounding out of his chest. The truth was that when you walked out of your room wearing nice jeans and a really complimenting blouse, with your hair falling perfectly down your back and your eyelashes coated with the perfect amount of mascara- he knew that he was glad that he got rejected that night. The way the dim lights brightened your smile, and the way a champagne glass looked in your hand. It was driving him crazy. The fact that he walked into a party like that with you by his side made everything that much better. He didn’t expect Steve to be there. He didn’t care. That was until he saw the look in your eyes when they’d meet Steve’s blue ones. “I’m trying to say that... it was the best unintentional date I have ever had. Even if it was just for a few minutes,” he says, adding a faint smile at the end. He knew you were happy. He knew this would make you feel bad, but he had to just clear the air. You suck in a quick dose of air, blinking away those stupid butterflies and smile lightly, nodding. “Can I ask you another question?”

“Sure, Bucky.”

“If you thought it was a date, you said yes. Why?”

Now it was your turn to get flustered. You felt your palms start to sweat. You shrugged. “I don’t know, Buck. It’s you. For a second, I saw you as the Bucky who brings home girls at two in the morning,” you nervously laugh. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what Bucky wanted to hear. You didn’t want to say the wrong things.

“Oh, okay. Makes sense.” He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. You don’t either. “You wanted to come home with me?” he asks. You can hear his words drenched in that smirk of his.

“Oh my god, Bucky.”

“Kidding. In the end, you come home to me anyways.”

You felt those dumb butterflies. You changed the subject to the first thing that pops into your head. “By the way, who was the girl that rejected you?”

His cheeks turn red and he laughs, looking down. “Really, doll? We’re gonna talk about this?”

“Well of course. I gotta know who turned down your charm!”

He groans and throws himself back onto his bed, covering his face with his hands. He lets out a huff and slides his hands down his face. “ Way to change the subject,” he sighs, “she’s Starks’ Secretary, or maybe she got promoted? Not sure anymore. Her names Natalia- Natasha, actually. That’s what everyone calls her.”

“Natasha?”

He nods. “Yeah, she has this crazy, re-”

“Red hair.”

Bucky nods again and looks at you. “Yeah! You know her?”

You stare blankly ahead of you and smile, nodding. You chuckle softly, shaking your head now. “Yeah,” you croak, “I mean, kind of?”

Bucky whispers your name, breaking you out of whatever trance you were in. He’s sitting right next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder with a look of sympathy. A look of hurt equaled to yours. “She’s the one?”

You nod again. “She’s always the one, Buck.”

“You never told me her name. (Y/n), there’s nothing going on betwe-”

“Bucky, it’s completely okay if you like her. I truly don’t mind- that’s, if you like her that’s okay.”

He repeats your name, stopping you from rambling on. “Shut up, doll. I’m not interested.. anymore. Like at all.” You smile and look up at him, scanning his face. Of course Bucky would like her. Of course she’d catch his attention. She catches everyone’s attention. “Hey, Sam’s an asshole. Don’t think about him. You’re going out with Steve. Steve’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. I promise. He won’t hurt you, doll. Especially not on my watch.”

“You always know what to say, James. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he gives you that stupid look again. The one where it looks like his chest is hurting, like his heart is crying. Like he regrets something, misses, longs for something. But you don’t know what. “Go get ready. You got that cheesy date with Steve. Remember? Or did laying in my bed make you wanna stay here forever?”

“Bucky, shut up,” you playfully push him as you get off his bed. You had honestly completely forgot about the date with Steve. It felt like a hundred hours that you were there with Bucky, which it was only two. You threw a pillow that was on the floor at him and he catches it, of course. He had quick reflexes. Too quick. Nothing went past him. And you liked that.

“Tell your boyfriend to text me back. He left me on read,” Bucky shouts as you walk out his door, “bestest best friend ever,” he mumbles. You giggle and take a mental note. ‘Tell Steve to text his boyfriend’.

Bucky got up and shut his door. Like he always is before you go out with Steve, Bucky was sad. He was bummed again. If he had just been upfront and asked you out on a real date, or if he had went up to you and Steve instead of darting out of there as soon as possible. He started to think about the party again. He started thinking about what you had told him before you even knew Steve existed.

“Okay. I’ll set it up right now, doll. Any guy you want, you’ll get.”

“You want me to choose?”

“That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“And you’ll get them to come talk to me?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Bucky, I don’t wanna play.”

“Oh, come on. Look at that guy. He has a beard. You like beards.”

“Too long. Plus, I don’t even know him. Besides, you have a beard too.”

“How about my ex boss?”

“Tony? He’s married!”

“Him?”

“No.” This went on for a few minutes. You crossing off guys, making faces every time Bucky would point someone out.

“What ab-”

“No, I’m absolutely a hundred and ten percent serious, Bucky. Out of every one in this expensive ass house party, I’d still choose to go home with you.”

“Like you have a choice,” he chuckles, leaning in to you as he tries to speak over all the other conversations.

“Choice or not, I’d still go home with you, James.” Your words made him weak. They made him weaker than he’s ever been. His legs felt like jello when he saw the look in your eyes. It wasn’t alcohol, he hadn’t got you a drink yet. It was happiness. True happiness. Him making you get this look. He wanted to kiss you right there. He really did. But like he always does, he got scared. He got scared, so instead of kissing you, he asked if you wanted a drink.

A stupid drink. ‘What the hell was wrong with me’ Bucky thought to himself. He knew that if it wasn’t Steve, he would be fighting for you. He would be wrapping his arms around you right now, making you want to stay in bed with him. But it’s Steve. And Steve always gets what he wants.

•••

again, if i 4got tags, lmk ❗️❗️

this was a tough 1, it gets better I PROMISE. but aside from that, i wanted to know if you guys would be interested in like.... writing a chapter?? like any kind of chapter you guys want. I JUST REALLY WANNA SEE WHAT KIND OF DIRECTION YOU GUYS WANNA TAKE IT IN!!!!

so we kind of got a sense as to what happened with Sammy boy... hmm.. ❗️

tags : @coal000 @goldenstateof@cherrywinedarling@justahappylilblog@faakelanadelrey@juicyqueenlme @ourdreamsrealized@boyzines@bornfortherainydays @fightmeandmy100fandoms@deadpoolgirl23@bethanyv10 @ilovethings-somuch @spidey-linquentimagines@lilypalmer1987 @gravity-9-8@vivianbabz@imeannooffensebabybut @queendade @irepeldirt@petals-overdaisies @warishaadnan @sweetmockingbird@loki7ms@chickennacho1 @dakotacheyennee@starkxpotts@sighscassidyy @jellzu @krockszz@lowkeysebbychuckennuggets1213 @wowbarnes @eccentric-impulsesdugan365 @frackinawesomeninja @cosmetologynerd@straight–on-til-morning @sophiealiice @barnes-and-noble-girl@satans-knitting-club @grosskyjaja @xunicornwhovianx@evetheplum@cravingmustard @raventt5-bb @dedicated-fangirl-forever@sarahp879 @fandomlover03 @bands-and-shietz@wintersoldierbarnes @keepyoureyesopenwide @i-am-moody-yes-i-am @fandoms-will-collide @xcyber-queenx @ly--canthrope @kimskew @mala-firebringer @crazyjam-pot

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #rrbf #bucky barnes AU #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #au #bucky barnes fic #this was so bad i sooooo apologize

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teachingoutsidethebinary · 7 years

Text

Dive Bar

Prompt request: hello how r u?? could you do an avengers x teen!stark!reader?? tony's angsty teen (18 y/o) daughter listens to the same music as him but in modern bands like "the pretty reckless" and she performs "going to hell" at some old bar not knowing it's where the whole team goes sometimes and they see her perform?? maybe some pietro x reader during most of it as well?? thanks so much!! <3

Characters: Tony Stark, Pietro Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Reader

Warnings: couple of curse words

A/N: Thanks for the request! I hope I did it justice. Feel free to send more, and comments are always appreciated. As always, thanks for reading!

One Shot Masterlist

It was rare to have a moment of peace and quiet in the Avenger Tower. So, when everyone else was out on missions or errands, you took advantage of the empty common room. You snuggled closer to your boyfriend as you sipped hot chocolate and watched your favorite Netflix show.

“I still do not understand what is so special about this Flash character,” Pietro grumbled.

“Um, he’s super fast and saves the world,” you replied, as if it was obvious.

“I do those things too!” he exclaimed.

“You can run fast,” you admitted, “but you like to cause a lot of mischief too.”

“That makes life more fun, prinţesă.” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in for a sweet kiss. “I bet you didn’t see that coming,” he whispered as he nuzzled your neck.

You pulled away and laughed. “You really need a new pick up line, Piet.”

Before he could say anything else, a door slammed down the hall. You could hear voices getting louder and louder as they approached the common room.

“And there goes our peace and quiet,” Pietro sighed, leaning back against the couch.

You paused the TV and turned around to greet the intruders. A small smile curved your lips as you spotted Tony Stark and his daughter, Aria.

Aria was the spitting image of Tony. She kept her brown hair short and straight, with one side hanging like a curtain over her right eye. She had similar tastes in music and could often be spotted wearing t-shirts with the latest rock bands. While Tony loved Black Sabbath and AC/DC, Aria was more into The Pretty Reckless and the 1975. Currently, she was sporting a pair of ripped jeans and a Halestorm t-shirt. A large pair of headphones covered her ears, and a neon pink cord ran down to the phone in her pocket.

“Sweetheart, as much as I appreciate your argument, you can’t say that stuff to your principal!” Aria just shrugged and paused behind the couch.

“Hey Aria,” you said. “How was school?”

“My principal is an idiot,” she replied.

Tony raised his hands in exasperation. “Not again!”

“Why?” Pietro asked. He loved egging Tony on, and right now, Tony looked like he was about to have an aneurysm.

“He told me my jeans were inappropriate because my legs were distracting to boys. I told him he needed to stop sexualzing my body and teach the other boys to keep it in their pants.”

“You’re right, he is an idiot,” you replied.

Tony glared at you. “I completely agree that he was out of line, but there are more appropriate ways to say it. And you left out a few key curse words, by the way.”

Aria rolled her eyes. “I’m going to my room. Am I grounded?”

“Well...uh, I mean…” Tony stuttered. “I mean, technically, you weren’t wrong...but...no more cursing out your principal please!”

Aria gave a curt nod and headed to her room. A few moments later, you could feel the bass from her music reverberate through the compound. Thankfully, Tony had gotten her room soundproofed, so at least you couldn’t hear the music.

Tony sighed and plopped on the couch right between you and Pietro.

“Why, yes, join us,” Pietro mumbled.

You glared at him over Tony’s head. “She’s 18, Tony,” you reassured Tony. “She’s feeling very passionate about certain issues.”

“I have no ideas where she gets it from!” he exclaimed. “I mean, who disrespects authority like that?”

You patted his shoulder sympathetically and decided not to mention the family resemblance. “Listen, she could be doing worse things.” You shuddered, thinking about all of the shenanigans you got into at her age. “Just be thankful she wasn’t like me.”

Pietro raised his eyebrows. “And what, exactly, did you do?” he asked.

“Oh you know, a little bit of this, a little bit of that. A few interesting encounters.” They both stared at you. “What?” you asked. “I really cleaned up my act before I got here.”

“I need a drink,” Tony groaned.

“Yes! That is a perfect idea!” Pietro cheered. “Drinks, tonight!”

“Dive bar?” you asked, your heart racing with excitement. You were never one to turn down a good dive bar experience.

“Dive bar,” Tony and Pietro said in unison.

“Aria is going out with some friends tonight, so she won’t be here anyway,” Tony added.

“Did someone say dive bar?” a voice asked from behind you.

You all turned around to find Steve and Nat walking into the room. “Yeah, you in?” you asked.

“Absolutely,” Steve replied with a grin. “Bucky and Sam will probably want to come too.”

“And Wanda,” Nat added.

After some debate, you all decided to meet back up at 9 to leave. Everyone filtered out of the room, leaving you and Pietro alone once again. Once he was sure everyone was gone, he had you pinned to the couch, and a mischievous smile danced on his lips.

“So tell me more about what you were like as a teenager,” he whispered. He peppered kisses down your throat.

“I was so bad,” you giggled, as you cupped his cheeks and leaned in for a searing kiss.

“How bad?”

You smirked. “You’re going to have to work a little harder than that to get my secrets from me.”

Pietro sat up and pulled you with him. “Challenge accepted.” You barely had time to think before he raced back to his room in the blink of an eye to work on his interrogation methods.

One might have many questions as to why Earth’s Mightiest Heroes choose a crappy, dirty dive bar as their destination to unwind. Truthfully, you all loved dive bars because no one ever gave you a second look. The drinks were cheap and strong, and the music was always perfect. It was hysterical watching Steve and Bucky try and adapt to these bizarre surroundings the first few times, but by now, they were naturals.

You walked into Big Dan’s ready to have a good time. By dive bar standards, Big Dan’s certainly wasn’t the best, but it definitely wasn’t the worst place you’d been. The floor had seen better days, but thankfully, the lights were almost always off. Instead, blacklights bathed everything in a cool, purple glow. There were a few ratty pool tables in the back, and the dartboard area had more holes in the wall than the actual dartboard. The Pac Man machine hadn’t worked in years, but Big Dan kept it there for sentimentality. A cramped stage took up the front of the bar, and it was fairly common for a karaoke session to take place when it wasn’t being used for open mic nights.

Of course, the most important part of Big Dan’s was the bar. He always kept it stocked with an interesting variety of bottom and top shelf liquors as well as cheap beer. Hey, you all came for the experience, not the quality.

Tony immediately sidled up to the bar and slapped a $100 bill on the counter, ensuring your group would get drinks as fast as you wanted them. He downed a shot of tequila while you nursed a Long Island Iced Tea. In the time it took you to sip a quarter of your drink, Pietro had finished three beers and was itching to get to the dance floor. He loved holding you close and swaying to the beat.

You spotted the rest of your friends as you and Pietro danced. Bucky and Sam were chatting up two gorgeous women at the pool tables. Bucky accidentally underestimated his strength and jammed the pool stick right through the white ball trying to impress the ladies. He looked at the mess sheepishly while the girls hid their giggles behind their drinks. The blonde girl gave him a kiss on the cheek and Bucky turned crimson. Sam merely rolled his eyes and guided the brunette over to the other pool table to try another game.

Steve and Tony were perched at the bar talking about god knows what. It was always business with those two. Thankfully, Nat and Wanda pulled them out to the dance floor, and soon, everyone was letting the stress of the day burn off.

After a while, you all made your way back to the bar for a refill on drinks. Big Dan walked on stage, and you hadn’t even noticed that a band had set up while you were out on the dance floor. He tapped the microphone a few times, and you all turned to face the stage.

“Ugh, I hate open mic night!” Sam groaned, banging his head against the bar.

“Why?” Wanda asked. “Sometimes the bands are really good!” Sam just gulped down half a beer in response.

Tony looked at Steve through narrowed eyes. “Captain America!” he shouted. “You’re my friend!” He stumbled over and wrapped Steve in an alcohol-induced hug. Steve just quirked his eyebrows and lightly patted Tony on the back.

“Shh!” you hissed. “I’m trying to listen to Big Dan!”

“And now,” Big Dan announced, “please welcome to the mic Aria’s Angels!” A ragtag group of teens shuffled out on stage, and plugged in their instruments. The singer stood with her back to the audience. The drummer tapped his sticks together three times, then slammed down. The lead guitar player started jamming out to an intense beat, and the singer jumped around as she began to sing.

Father did you miss me?

I've been locked up a while.

I got caught for what I did but took it all in style.

Laid to rest all my confessions I gave way back when.

“Huh, that’s funny,” Bucky observed. “The lead singer kind of looks like…”

“ARIA?!” you all shouted. Sure enough, it was Tony Stark’s daughter standing on stage. Her brown hair bounced violently as she sang the rock lyrics from her favorite song “Going to Hell” by the Pretty Reckless.

“Did you know she was in a band?” you asked Tony. He just stared at the stage, completely dumbfounded. You waved a hand in front of his eyes, but he barely even blinked as Aria continued to sing.

For the lines that I take, I'm going to hell!

For the love that I make, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.

“She’s pretty good,” Nat complimented. Her head was bobbing back and forth to the beat, and soon, she pulled Wanda out to the dance floor. A sort of mosh pit had formed in the center, and people were jumping up and down. Pietro tried to pull you out to dance, but you waved him away so you could stay with Tony.

Aria looked encouraged by the response, and she smiled as she belted out the rest of the song. She even sauntered over to the guitar player and leaned against her back-to-back. When Aria slid down and gave the audience a sexy wink, Tony finally snapped out of his funk.

“What the hell?!” he yelped. “Did you just see that?!”

“I mean, lead singers do that stuff all the time,” you reasoned. Tony jumped up, but you held him back. “Wait to yell at her until after she’s done. Let her enjoy this.”

Tony opened and closed his mouth but finally relented and sat back down. He carefully watched as Aria moved about the stage. She seemed so confident, so sure of herself. She definitely wasn’t the same person he interacted with on a daily basis. He tried to rack his brain to remember if she had ever mentioned being in a band before, but he was drawing a blank.

The song finally ended, and the entire bar thundered with applause. Aria blushed and gave a small bow. She scanned the crowd and her eyes widened when she recognized Nat and Wanda. Her stomach dropped as she continued to spot the other Avengers, and eventually, her gaze landed on her father. She whispered something to her bandmates and hopped off the stage.

“Did you follow me here?!” she accused once she reached the bar.

Tony stared at her incredulously. “Follow you? I got here first!”

“You did such an amazing job!” you interrupted. “How long have you been in a band?”

Aria blushed. “Thanks. And just a few months. This was our first show.”

“Your first show?” Tony asked. “Honey, that was really good.” His anger seemed to dissipate as he saw his daughter in a new light. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Aria gave her signature shrug. “I dunno. I thought you’d be mad.”

Instead of answering, Tony pulled his daughter in for a tight hug. She reciprocated and buried her face in his shoulder. Eventually, she pulled away and rolled her eyes, but a huge smile took over her face.

“I’m going back to my friends,” she said.

“Fine, but get out of here soon, please,” Tony replied, crossing his arms. “You’re not old enough to be here.”

Aria shrugged and rolled her eyes but nodded in agreement. Tony stared at her proudly as she hopped back on stage to help the band pack up.

“C’mon, Tony,” you said, tugging on his arm. “Let’s dance.”

Tony grinned as he let you pull him out to the dance floor where he spent the rest of the night doing just that.

TAGS: @buckyappreciationsociety @iamwarrenspeace @theassetseyeliner @melconnor2007

#pietro x reader #tony stark #sassy Tony stark #dad tony stark #Tony Stark is a father #dive bar #avengers fic #Steve Rogers #james bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #drunk tony stark #fluff #fluffy avengers

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