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seungmoroll · 3 years

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Stray Kids Fraternity | Han Jisung

Word count: 5,073

Genre & warnings: mentions of alcohol, cheating, cuss words, friends to lovers

A/n: this is the first post for my new series. if you guys like this, please be sure to check out the other parts of the series once they’re posted here: x

The last thing you wanted was to see your crappy ex, Younghoon, tonight. All you wanted was to let loose and have some fun, but no, his presence alone has ruined your night. You thought that when Chan, the president of the frat house next door, invited you to their party that you were going to have fun and get drunk, but instead of having fun, you’re just slightly buzzed and wallowing in self-pity.

Honestly, there wasn’t even any reason for you to be like this. You were the one who broke up with him, but then again, he did break your heart by cheating on you with some random girl. However, seeing him with some other girl all over him made you so upset, that any part of you having fun that night was thrown out the window.

Deciding that you needed another drink, you go into the kitchen to see what’s available. Too busy observing your options, you fail to notice Changbin walking up to you, “Hey there, looking for anything in particular?”

“Something to make me forget?”

Cocking an eyebrow at you, he asks you, “Rough day?”

“Something like that.”

“Don’t worry, I got just the right thing for you.” As Changbin makes this concoction for you, you watch as some random people play beer pong. You realize now that two of them are Jisung and Hyunjin, two guys that are part of the fraternity.

“Here,” Changbin says as he hands you your cup. Taking a sip, you choke from the burn of your throat, “Gosh, Changbin, what the hell is in this?”

“Uh, a little bit of everything?” Shrugging, you take another sip and let Changbin lead you back to the rest of the party. The two of you settle in a little nook, watching Jisung and Hyunjin win at beer pong.

“Whoo! Another win for the boys!” Jisung cheers, “Who’s up for another round?”

Shaking his head, Hyunjin backs away from Jisung, “I’m at my limit dude, I’m tapping out.”

“But who’s gonna play with me now?” Jisung asks with a pout on his face. Eyes searching the room, Jisung spots Changbin, and a grin forms on his face, “Hyung!” Cutting in before Jisung can attempt to rope him in a match, Changbin says, “I’m not playing, Jisung.” Another pout forms on his face.

Deciding to step out of your comfort zone, you volunteer yourself, “I’ll play.” This causes for the two men to look at you. “Well, well, look who’s stepping out of their comfort zone.”

Rolling your eyes at Jisung, you playfully push him, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” IT wasn’t like Jisung was a stranger to you. You have been invited over to their frat house plenty of times, and were well acquainted with everyone in the frat, heck, you could even call them your friends. Well after the large argument between you and Younghoon the night of your breakup, most of the guys, including Jisung, happened to hear everything, so you definitely could say that they knew a lot about you. Looking at the cups set up on the table, you ask, “Who’re we going against?”

“Us.” You and Jisung both turn towards the sound of the voice, and your blood runs cold when you see that it’s Younghoon and that chick from earlier. Sensing the tension between you and Younghoon, Jisung says, “Let’s get this thing started then.”

You couldn’t say that you were the best at beer pong, but luckily for you, Jisung was. What annoyed you the most throughout the game however, was that every time Younghoon made a shot, the girl he was with would throw herself all over him. Honestly, it made you want to barf. Fortunately, Jisung’s presence made things a little bit better.

As the game nears to the end, both sides are left with one cup each. It’s your turn to make the shot, and all you want to do is wipe the smirk off that jackass’ face. So with all your determination, you toss the ping pong ball and watch as it makes it way to the other side of the table. When the ball hits the rim of the cup, you hold your breath, and when it lands inside the cup, your breath is knocked out of you when Jisung lifts you up into a bone crushing hug. “Oh hell yeah! That’s my Y/n! Yo Hyunjin, I don’t need you anymore. Y/n’s my new beer pong partner now.”

Although Younghoon’s presence may have ruined a part of your life, you could say that being around Jisung made it a bit better, or maybe it was just all the alcohol you managed consume. Either way, you enjoyed living next door to a frat house.

The next time the frat boys throws a party is a month later, and of course you show up, but this time you brought your friend Yeji. However, you’re starting to think that was a mistake because she made you dress up this time. Last time you had just shown up in jeans and a nice shirt, but this time she was making you go all out. “C’mon Y/n, you told me that last time you saw Younghoon. Don’t you want to make him regret cheating on you?”

Sitting on your bed, you ponder her question. You don’t dress up often, but you guessed it couldn’t hurt to do so this one time, and if Younghoon happened to be at tonight’s party and he happens to se you then so be it. Getting up, you make it known to Yeji that you weren’t letting her dress you up because of a stupid boy, but because you wanted to look good and confident. Your response causes for her to clap in excitement and then she drags you into your closet to begin the process.

Once the two of you arrive next door, you are greeted by Jisung, “Oh hey Yeji, hey Y/n,” quickly observing your look, “You look different Y/n.” Cutting you off before you could say anything, Yeji excitedly asks, “Don’t they look hot?”

Squirming underneath Jisung’s gaze, your eyes widen when he says, “Yeah, they do.” Motioning towards the kitchen, “Can I get you guys anything to drink?”

The two of you let Jisung lead you towards the kitchen, where you see Younghoon and a different girl from last time conversing by the kitchen counter. Ignoring Younghoon’s gaze, you stand in front of all drinks, pondering your options. Sliding behind you, Jisung gently wraps an arm around your waist to get to the other side of you, where he grabs a beer for himself and picks up another to see if you wanted one. Gladly accepting the offer, you take a swig of it, disliking the taste, but drinking it anyways.

You realize that Jisung is talking to you, but with the heavy bass of the music and the loud voices of people, you’re unable to understand anything that he’s saying. Realizing that you couldn’t hear him, Jisung steps closer to you and talks into your ear, “You up for being my partner at beer pong again?” Honestly, you weren’t really in the mood for too much drinking tonight, but you just realized the Yeji has already left your side and you’re really starting to hate the feeling of Younghoon’s gaze on you, so you pull back from Jisung and offer your hand to him, saying to him, “Lead the way.” He happily takes your hand and leads you to the table.

The two of you only play one game together, but you still have fun because you loved the look on Chan’s and Changbin’s face as you and Jisung won. Fortunately for you, the two men sucked at beer pong, so you didn’t have to drink much, and even when they did manage to land a ball in one of your cups, Jisung had offered to take the drink; saying something along the lines of him being too thirsty. Silently you had thanked him.

Hours go by when you and Yeji finally meet up again, and she’s on the verge of passing out. Deciding that you should bring her back to your place, you take your leave, but before you could go, Jisung catches you and tells you that he’ll walk the two of you back to you place, saying that he needed a bit of fresh air.

The short walk back to your place is filled with comfortable silence, sans the noise from the party. Having Jisung help you with the door, you throw a passed out Yeji onto you couch, turning to Jisung you thank him for the help and for making the night fun for you.

Waving you off, he says, “Nah, there’s no need to thank me, I didn’t do much anyways. Plus, I like having you around, so of course I gotta make it seem like us frat guys are fun.” He sends you a wink as you chuckle at him. Walking Jisung to your door, you bid him a good night, with a small smile on he face, he looks you in the eyes, “Good night Y/n.”

The next time you see Jisung isn’t at one of their frat parties, it’s actually during an unexpected situation.

It’s Tuesday morning when you decide that it’s too early in the morning for there to be someone ringing your doorbell. Checking through the peephole to see who the unwanted guest, you roll your eyes when you see Jisung. Opening up the door, the first thing Jisung says is, “So like here’s the thing, our water pipes are busted and I really need to take a shower. Can I use yours?” You contemplate for a moment on whether you should shut the door on Jisung’s face or not, but choosing to ignore the devil on your shoulder, you open the door widely, allowing room for Jisung to enter your house.

As Jisung uses your shower, you take the opportunity to make the two of you breakfast. Humming and dancing around as you get everything set up. While you were busy flipping the pancakes, your doorbell rings once again, but before you could go see who it was, you hear Jisung call out, “I’ll get it!”

When Jisung opens up the door he isn’t expecting to see your ex on the other side. Confused, Younghoon gives Jisung a once over and asks, “Is Y/n here?”

Crossing his arms across his chest, Jisung leans against the doorway, “They’re a bit busy right now.”

Annoyed by his response, Younghoon says, “Well could you tell them that I’m here and that I need to talk to them right now?”

Rubbing his fingers on his chin, seeming as if he was giving your ex’s request a thought, Jisung replies, “I could…but I won’t.” With the being said, Jisung makes an attempt to shut the door on your Younghoon’s face, but he slams his hand against the door and says, while gritting his teeth, “Look here you piece of-“

“Jisung? Who’s at the door?” you ask from behind Jisung.

“It’s no one.”

“It’s Younghoon.” Both men say at the same time.

Pushing Jisung aside, you widen the door to see your ex. “What do you want?” you ask him in an uninterested tone.

“I wanted to come and talk to you, Y/n.”

“Well then talk.” He looks over at Jisung, who’s been hovering over your shoulder glaring at him. “In private.”

“Whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of Jisung and if that bothers you then you can just head on home and not talk to me ever again.”

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he brings to say, “I wanna get back together, Y/n. What I did was mistake-“ You stop him mid-sentence by raising your hand in the air, “Let me stop you right there Younghoon. If that’s what you came all the way down here for then I’m sorry, but I have no intentions of getting back together with you. If that is all, then enjoy your day, goodbye Younghoon, for good.” Closing the door, your lean against it, eyes shut, taking a moment to process everything. You even managed to forget about a certain frat boy’s presence.

“I’m proud of you Y/n.” Opening your eyes, you turn to glare at Jisung, “Did you really have to answer my door like that?” you motion to his body. Looking down at his own body, Jisung says to you, “What’s wrong with this?”

“Jisung, you’re literally only in a towel right now.” Said towel was the only thing covering Jisung and it was hanging low on his hips. “And your chest is still wet, it’s like you didn’t even bother to dry up.”

“Hey, don’t act like you aren’t enjoying the view right now. You better take it all in because not everyone gets to see this. Plus, I’m sure your ex is making up all kinds of situations as to why I’m like this in your house.” Jisung does ridiculous poses to show off his physique.

Sighing and making your way back to your kitchen, you say to him, “The last thing I need right now is for him to think that we’re together or whatever.” Jisung follows you into the kitchen, “Hey what’s wrong with thinking that we’re together?”

“Lots of things are wrong with thinking that. Now go and put on some real clothes so we can eat breakfast together.” You shoo him towards the bathroom as you set up your breakfast plates.

When Jisung returns, this time in actually clothing, he sits down at the kitchen island in front of his plate and says, “You know, this is a pretty domestic scene: you making breakfast for the two of us while I get ready in the morning. I think I can get used to this.”

Jisung’s unnecessary comment makes a slight blush form on your face, causing for you to mumble to him, “Shut up and eat your pancakes.” You choose to ignore the smug look on his face as you stuff yours with pancakes.

The next morning, Jisung is knocking at your door once again, and when you open it up, he asks to use your shower again. Playing the nice neighbor, you let him inside, asking him when their pipes will be fixed as he makes his way to your bathroom. “Uh I don’t know. They say it may take a week or two, or something like that.”

“I like the body wash that you use by the way. It smells good.” Jisung comes out from the hallway, towel drying his hair. This time he has pants on, but just like yesterday, he’s wet and shirtless. Taking a seat by the kitchen island, he watches as you maneuver around the kitchen.

“And why exactly did you use my body wash?” Being a good host, you place a piece of toast with avocado on a plate and slide it towards Jisung. He happily accepts it, take a bite, and answers your question, mouth still full of food, “I forgot to bring mine with me.”

“So what’re you up to today?” He waits for your answer as he chugs down the glass of water. You proceed to tell him that you didn’t have class that day, so you were going to

Because of the damage to the water pipes at the frat house, Jisung continues to come over to your house to use the shower for the rest of the week. In the short span of time that he’s constantly been over to your house, he’s inserted himself in your daily routine. If you were to be honest with yourself, you liked the change that he brought into your life. He’s managed to figure out your schedule; knows when it’s a good time to come over and stays a little bit afterwards to hang out and talk to you. Sometimes in the mornings, you’ll make breakfast for the both of you, whether it be a bowl of cereal or waffles. Though he still likes to parade around your house wet and shirtless, which you do your best to ignore, but that’s kind of hard when Jisung’s abs look the way they do.

There are even times when he doesn’t need to shower, but he’ll show up at your house anyway. You’re not too sure if you like the fact that the two of you have become so comfortable with one another over the span of a week.

One morning you had woken up earlier than usually and decided to go out and sit on your front porch, mug in hand. Taking in the beauty of the natural world, you hear the sound of a door closing. Turning, you see Minho, a mug also in his hand, still dressed in his pajamas. “Hey neighbor,” he raises up his mug to greet you.

Smiling and doing the same, you say, “Good morning Minho. Early morning?”

“Nah, I’m always up this early. There’s something about the fresh morning air that gets me going. The question is: why are you up this morning?” Leaning across the porch railing, he takes a sip from his mug.

“Couldn’t go back to sleep, so I thought I’d go out here and enjoy all of this.” The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, embracing the morning air.

Suddenly, a question pops into your brain, catching Minho’s attention, you ask him, “Hey, where are you and the others washing up if your place’s pipes are broken?” Confused, Minho cocks an eyebrow at you, “What’re you talking about? Our pipes were fixed hours after they were broken.”

This was news to you, “What did you just say?” Getting up from your porch swing, “Did you just say that they were fixed?”

Nodding his head, “I did.”

“That son of a bitch,” you muttered to yourself. The new information changed your perspective on everything. Essentially, Jisung had been freeloading off of you for this entire week, and for what? You didn’t know. All you knew was that Jisung had been increasing your water bill for no reason at all, and that you were going to murder him.

“Minho, why the hell has Jisung been coming over to my house to take showers if your pipes have been fixed for a week now?”

Shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly, “I don’t know, maybe it has to do with the fact that your house has you in it and ours doesn’t?”

His response wasn’t the answer that you were expecting. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

Separating himself from the railing, he goes on to say, “I think you’re a smart person, Y/n. Figure it out.” Giving you one last smirk, he turns and goes back into the house, leaving you standing outside on your porch looking like an idiot.

It’s been two hours since your conversation with Minho, and you still can’t get over the fact that Jisung has been lying to you this entire time. Looking at the time on your phone, you see that Jisung should be coming over sometime soon. Once he knocked on your doors, you were determined to get an answer out of him.

Five minutes later the sound of knocking can be heard. Getting up from your spot on the couch, you make your way to the door. The sight in front of your eyes as you open the door is Jisung with a bright smile on his face. Seeing his face, you scoff as you walk away from the door. Shutting the door, Jisung says, “Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

“Actually, I woke up feeling great, that is until I had a little talk with Minho and found out something interesting. Do you want to know what it was?” From the tone of you voice, Jisung had a slight feeling of where this conversation was going. “You talked to Minho hyung? What did you find out?”

“Oh nothing major, just the fact that your pipes have been fixed for a week now.” Jisung avoids your gaze as he thinks of a way to explain the situation to you. “So you see..” His sentence falters.

“Go on.”

Sighing, “Look, I could go on and come up some ridiculous excuse as to why I continued your shower, but I’m sure you wouldn’t like that, so here’s the truth: I like spending time with you, Y/n. After the first morning where you made me pancakes, I thought it was the best way for us hang out and get to know each other. At first I just thought of you as our cute neighbor, and then I saw you with Younghoon at one of our parties, and I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you. So yeah, you piqued my interest, and I used the situation to my advantage. I’m sorry for not telling you the truth.”

His confession was unexpected to you, but it explains what Minho had meant earlier. You were completely speechless; you didn’t know what to say to Jisung. All the anger that you had previously held disappeared and was replaced by a feeling that you couldn’t describe. Too many thoughts ran through your head, and Jisung could sense it, something that you hated because he always knew your silent cues.

“This is probably too much for you to process this early in the morning, but I just want you to know that you don’t have to reciprocate my feelings or whatever. I just hope that this doesn’t make things awkward between us because like I said, I like hanging out with you, and so do the other guys in the hous, and if you want, I’ll reimburse you the cost for your water bill, just let me know how much it’ll be.” Looking back at the door, he says, “I guess I should go, huh?” till processing the scene, you nod, and without another word Jisung leaves your house.

It’s been a week since you discovered the news about the pipes and Jisung’s feelings, and you’ve managed to avoid seeing any of the frat guys. You didn’t want to ignore them, maybe Jisung, but you just wanted time to process everything, including your feelings for Jisung.

Of course you liked Jisung, he had a great personality, was a funny guy and he was easy on the eyes, but did you romantically like him? That you weren’t sure about. So you tried to think about all the small things that Jisung and even tried to imagine the two of you together.

You had a love/hate relationship with the fact that he could easily read you. You liked it because it meant that you didn’t have to voice things out but hated it because you weren’t sure how he was able to read you. You also liked the fact that things were easy with him because you knew that it was sometimes hard for you to open to people, but with him you didn’t have a problem with it at all. When it came to you thinking of romantic scenarios with him, you weren’t disgusted by the thought of him taking you out on dates, or the two of you cuddling.

Confiding in your best friend, Yeji, you tell her everything, in hopes of her helping you clear your muddy thoughts. “Bestie, it sounds like to me that you like Jisung.”

“Does it?”

Tsking in disapproval, she asks you, “Now why do you sound disappointed Y/n?”

“It’s just that the last time I liked a guy and was in a relationship with hi, he cheated on me, and I just don’t want to get hurt like that again.” Ever since Younghoon you were too scared to get back into the dating scene, and you hate him for ruining things for you.

“Look, I know you’re scared, but you really like Jisung, don’t you?”

You were afraid to admit it to yourself, but you did. “I do, Yeji.”

“Then be with him. For that week that he was constantly in your life, I saw a new side to you. I could tell that you were happier, and that’s all I want for you; to be happy.” At times like this, you were really glad that Yeji was your best friend. You don’t know where you’d be without her.

“You’re right. I should tell him how I feel. The guys are going to have a party tonight, so I’ll go over and talk to him.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so happy for you, Y/n. Oh and just remember that if he hurts you in any way that I’ll happily beat him up for you.” Laughing, you knew that she was serious as she had managed to land a punch on Younghoon’s face when she found out that he cheated on you. “I love you Yeji.”

“I love you too, now go get your mans.”

Later on that day when you entered the frat house, you were determined to proceed with your mission. You walk around the house looking for a particular person. As you wander through the house, you see familiar faces that you haven’t seen in a while. Chan catches your eyes as he DJs and gives you that famous smile of his. You spot a drunk Felix clinging onto Jeongin on the couch. You knew that you were stalling yourself from what you were aiming to do tonight, and with the look that Minho was giving you, he could tell to. Mouthing the words, “Just go for it,” you use his words as encouragement and make your way out to the backyard.

Chan had made it a rule that beer pong was to now only be played outside since the last party resulted in a broken table and a lot up napkins. You kind of appreciated the new rule because it gave you a lot more air to breathe. Shutting the door that led to the backyard, you spot a familiar figure in the middle of a winning game. Not wanting to disturb, what he calls “vibe”, you watch as Hyunjin makes the opponents chug their last cup. Celebrating their win, Jisung and Hyunjin bump their chests together, ‘what a bunch of barbarians,’ you thought to yourself. Your presence doesn’t go unnoticed once the two boys pull away and Hyunjin spots you. Catching Jisung’s attention, he motions towards you, and for the first time that night, the two of you lock eyes.

Using this as your chance to talk to him, the two of you walk towards one another, meeting up in the middle. Unable to look Jisung in the eyes, you focus on the red cup in his hand. “There’s something I want to say to you.” Not saying anything to you in response, Jisung pulls you towards a quieter area, which happened to where a swing set was located.

By the look on your face, Jisung could tell that you were questioning it, “Felix wanted a swing set, and what Felix wants, Felix gets.” Finding the reason quite reasonable you nod your head, and take a seat on the swing, Jisung following in suit.

Gathering your thoughts, you focus on the ground, “Jisung-“

“Y/n-“ The two of you say each other’s name at the same time, awkwardly laughing it off. Jisung motions for you to go first.

Taking a deep breathe, you decide to just tell him the truth, “So I’ve been thinking about everything for the past week, and at first I was just unsure about things, unsure about my feelings for you. Ever since Younghoon and I broke up, I’ve been too scared to get back into a relationship with anyone, fearing that I’m just going to get hurt again. And about a week ago, I had only saw you as a friend, but as I managed to collect my thoughts, I think it’s safe to say that I like you, Jisung.”

Being that one of his skills was to read you, Jisung could tell that it took you a lot to admit this too him, especially the part of your fear. “Y/n, I promise you that I would never do anything to hurt you. I want to be the reason for your happiness, not your tears. The hyungs would kill me if I ever hurt someone like you. Also, you think?”

Shaking your head, “I know that I like you. I also know that I can trust you.” Eyes still on the ground, you hear the sounds of chains rubbing against each other, and you realize that Jisung is now facing you. Softly placing a hand on your hand that was holding onto the chain, he maneuvers you to face him. With his other hand, he places it below your chin, making you lift your head and look him in the eyes, “I think I like this shy side of you.”

“You think?” You ask, repeating his previous question.

Chuckling, he responds, “I know. I also know that I really want to kiss you right now, so Y/n, can I kiss you right now?” Nodding your head, you lean forward towards Jisung. The kiss is short and sweet, and when the two of you pull apart, you hear familiar voices cheer aloud. Turning your heads, you and Jisung realize that you guys had an audience. Too embarrassed you lean forwards and bury your face into Jisung’s chest, something that you didn’t realize you wanted to do until now.

One morning, months after you and Jisung have gotten together, while you were over at the frat house, in the middle of eating breakfast with the boys, Jeongin had ask Jisung, “So in your mind, you thought that by parading around Y/n’s house with nothing but a towel, that they would suddenly be interested in you?”

Shamelessly Jisung responds, “Uh, yeah, and it worked, didn’t it babe?”

Smacking Jisung in the face, you say to him, “You idiot, although I did enjoy the view, your abs aren’t the reason why I like you, but now that I’m thinking about it, they may be the reason why I stayed.” The other guys laugh at your response as Jisung pouts at you. Kissing his pout away, you reassure him that you like everything about him, “Plus I’m your beer pong partner, who else is going to drink everything for me?”

A/n: my fav part while writing this was the first morning Jisung came over, it’s what inspired me to come up with the skz frat series

what do you guys think of the series so far? id love to hear your thoughts & opinions as feedback is always welcomed!

I have a tag list for this series, so pls let me know if you would like to be added to it:)

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freebooter4ever · 3 years

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Eugene follows Snafu Back To See The Caboose

After the girl on the train rejects him feistily, Snafu disappears once lunch is finished. So Eugene decides to hunt him down...

A short enemies to lovers 'missing scene' type oneshot that is basically a fanfic of a fanfic because the UST in @badgerms's F.M.L was too high, I needed them to kiss...so I wrote this using lolki's "what are you gonna do about it?" moment:

The back of the caboose is as deserted as Snafu expects it to be. The door to the outside deck shuts behind him with a literal and metaphorical heaviness. Snafu hopes he remembered to unlock it first. He slides his tie loose, unbuttons the top of his shirt, and slumps against the rail. After years of no real need to dress nice, Snaf starts getting antsy all dolled up among polite company. There was an ease in wearing his ratty service uniform everyday that he kinda misses. It was like a second skin, really. And eventually, when he wore it long enough, he stopped noticing the grime.

He lights a cigarette and sighs, watching the railroad ties pass underneath his feet as the train chugs along. His head feels so heavy slung between his shoulders, he could almost join them.

Watching the track is hypnotic, something to think about without thinking. Because the one thing currently filling his entire mind needs to go away.

Eugene Sledge.

Take necessity out of the equation, and he and Sledge are barely left with a friendship. Eugene doesn't look to Snafu for guidance like he used to, he doesn't look back to make sure Snafu is still running behind him - he doesn't look at Snafu much anymore period. Unless Snafu is acting like an ass. Or a fool. Or both at the same time. Like Eugene considers him some form of mild entertainment.

It hurts more than Snafu would like to admit. It hurts even worse when Snafu is forced to listen to Eugene's talk about 'when they get home', as if 'home' is a concept Snafu is expected to relate to.

Eugene and his ridiculous posturing about 'no plans'. Snafu knows better. Sledge is gonna leave K company behind, go back home to mama, get pa to get him a job, work his way up the social ladder, become successful, and forget all about the war.

Goddamn asshole.

Goddamn beautiful fucking asshole.

With perfect timing, the door to the caboose opens. "Hey," Eugene's shy voice comes up behind Snafu.

Snafu glances at the door. Without making eye contact he holds his cigarette carton out to Eugene.

"No thanks," Eugene says quietly, "Been trying to cut back."

That makes Snafu pause. He pockets the carton, and retreats from the usual cloud of smoke surrounding his head. Waving his hand through the air to try and disperse it, he backs up into the farthest corner of the caboose deck till his butt hits the cold railing. He's trying to put as much space between them as possible. Not that there's much space to begin with. The train is probably less than five feet wide.

"Am I interrupting?" Eugene asks politely, though his tone says he doesn't give a shit if he is.

Snafu just smirks at him. He flattens his cigarette between his lips, grasps onto the ladder attached to the caboose wall, and hoists himself onto the rail. He sits there and smokes, with one leg wrapped around the corner pole to keep himself stable.

Eugene eyes him warily, looking minorly concerned for Snafu's wellbeing if he falls off the train, but says nothing. He walks to the opposite end of the deck and leans over the rail there.

It gives Snafu a pretty good view of his ass.

The silence over them is awkward. They never had to fill silences like this during the war, in foxholes or on the roads. Back then they had too much noise, too much exhaustion for words. Now Snafu wishes Gene would just fucking say what he is thinking.

"Sorry," Eugene says.

Snafu grunts. He's gonna need more than that.

"Sorry for that girl stickin her nose up at you," Eugene continues.

"Only to be expected," Snafu mutters, petulant, "You didn't see her making her way back here, did you?"

Eugene shakes his head. "This happens every time. Anybody would be better than you at talking to girls. Even me, and I've never talked to a girl who wasn't Sid's kid sister in my life," Eugene complains, "You've got the looks but as soon as you open your mouth you step in it, Snaf. There's no way that girl was ever gonna show."

"Never thought she would," Snafu drawls. He wonders why Eugene is even bringing this up.

"So why do you do it then?" Eugene asks, sounding annoyed, "Antagonize those girls?"

Snafu shrugs even though he knows Gene can't see it with his back to him. "No reason," he says. 'To make you look at me again, to get your attention back on me where it should be,' he adds inwardly.

Eugene bristles. Snafu swears he can see the hair on the back of the guy's neck stand up. "You sure you don't do it just to mess with me?"

"Why the fuck would me talking to girls mess with you?" Snafu scrunches his face up in confusion.

Eugene falls quiet. Like he only just now realized what words fell out of his mouth.

Sensing Eugene isn't going to explain himself, Snafu shrugs and says, "I dunno, Sledgehammer." By now his cigarette is finally finished and he's ready to get back inside and away from whatever weird mood Sledge is in, "I just say shit. I don't mean any of it."

Eugene turns to look at him, and takes a few steps closer to lean against the rail nearby. He doesn't say a word, he just stares at Snafu with those soft sad eyes, and instantly makes Snafu feel like the biggest piece of shit to walk the earth. "You don't mean any of what you say?" he asks, his voice strangely vulnerable.

"Nah," Snafu throws the cigarette butt off the end of the train.

Eugene looks like a kicked puppy.

"I don't think about shit I do before I do it, Sledge," Snafu says, "Too much fucking work. Who does that?"

Eugene rolls his eyes. He's growing increasingly surly, as if Snafu is pushing him into this bad mood.

"Why do you care anyway?" Snafu asks.

"Remember what you said to me, the night of VJ day?" Eugene asks, "After Burgie left us alone on those rocks to go get drunk with the other guys and I said to you, 'looks like it's just you and me again'?"

"Yeah," Snafu says.

"Did you mean what you said?" Eugene demands to know. Eugene goes all haughty and poised as if he deserves every right to be putting Snafu on the spot like this.

"I ain't the one reading anything into it," Snafu retorts.

"Is that a no?"

"No!" Snafu snaps.

"So you never mean any of the shit you say?" Eugene demands.

"Nope."

Eugene turns away from him, presents Snafu with a cold shoulder.

Snafu wishes he could kiss that sour face better.

Instead Snafu scoffs, "-And yeah, what if I did mean it? I ain't the one reading into things, and I ain't the one who's been avoiding the other. You're the one who thinks you're better than me. What's it matter if I did mean something six months ago, if it's changed now? What are you gonna do about it?" He says it like it's a challenge but judging from Eugene's change of expression, Gene takes it as an insult.

Eugene stares intently down at the tracks, his posture an exact replica of Snafu's earlier. There's a stubborn furrow in Gene's brow. His shoulders are tense. He's wound up tighter than a spring.

Snafu laughs at him, mocking him. It's a relief, to finally get the meanness out, how much he hates not being under Gene's skin - so much that he's come to dislike him. A string's been snapped in Snafu's brain, he lets loose, he laughs and laughs. He gets caught up in his own amusement. He doesn't see what's coming for him.

Not till Gene's hand darts out and grabs the knot in Snafu's tie. Eugene yanks him forward - it takes all of Snafu's concentration not to slip backwards off the train - and crashes their faces together. Eugene's teeth hit Snafu's chin and Snafu gets the tip of Eugene's nose half in his mouth. Eugene quickly adjusts and this time when they reconnect, Snafu's lips fuse to his.

Eugene takes this as encouragement and shoves his hand into Snafu's hair to better control the kiss. He threads his fingers through and pulls, hard.

Snafu loses his balance on the rail and tips forward, stumbling into Gene's space.

Still focusing on the kiss, Snafu blindly grasps onto whatever part of Gene he can reach. The minute his hand touches Eugene's hip, the other guy gets spooked. For one wonderful moment Eugene is licking into Snafu's mouth and their hot, alcohol laden breath is mixing together, and the next minute Eugene is retreating like a shamed schoolgirl.

Eugene folds his arms in front of his chest, closes himself off, and turns his face resolutely to the door, away from Snafu. "Sorry," he breathes.

"Jesus christ, Gene," Snafu groans. He shares Eugene's sentiment in being unable to look his buddy in the eye. He doesn't want the physical contact to end, though. Snafu moves his hand from Gene's hip to his neck and leans his forehead against Eugene's soft shoulder, "Warn a man next time." He rests his head there, keeps his eyes closed, and takes deep calming breaths.

"It wasn't true," Eugene says hotly, "What you said - I wasn't avoiding you. I don't think I'm better than you."

"Okay," Snafu says, his heart still pounding.

"I have been distant…" Eugene admits, "Because I was afraid if I wasn't I might

…" He trails off.

"...do what you just did?" Snafu helpfully provides an end to his sentence.

Eugene doesn't say anything.

"God, Gene," Snafu sighs, grinding his forehead into the bone of Eugene's shoulder. Saying Eugene's name feels different now. He's no longer choking down all that fucking batshit yearning. He can say it like he wants to. With everything he wants behind it. Like how he wants to slide his hand up to Eugene's cheek and turn Gene's stubborn head so he can kiss his blushing face. And keep kissing him till Eugene's as desperate and clingy and horny as Snafu feels. "Eugene…" Snafu whispers. It's almost begging really. Begging this dumbass to please please stop fucking with him.

Eugene turns his head and draws Snafu in a little closer so he can press his face into the top of Snafu's curls. "Why is your shirt unbuttoned?" Eugene mumbles.

"The fuck does it matter that my shirt is unbuttoned?" Snafu asks.

"I was just asking…"

"It's fucking hot…" Snafu claims.

"No, it's not," Eugene counters.

"It's boiling. I'm sweating like a stuck pig in all these layers," Snafu says.

"It's March," Eugene argues, "We're still in the dead of winter."

"No we ain't," Snafu whines, "Don't you see that bright sun up there?"

"You just shivered, Snaf," Eugene says, "I felt it…"

"Maybe you're feeling something else," Snafu smiles and raises his head enough to nose along Eugene's long neck. He kisses him there, relishing in the way his lips stick lightly to Eugene's flushed skin. Snafu leaves his open mouth pressed against Eugene's neck and just continues to try and breathe.

Eugene appears entirely unaffected. Despite the fact that he was the one who fucking started this.

Snafu gives up. He drops his hand off Eugene's shoulder, lets it fall to Eugene's waist, where he slides his fingers along Eugene's tightly cinched belt before letting go altogether. Snafu disconnects from Eugene and takes a single step towards the door.

Eugene stops him. Eugene's hands find their way to Snafu's hips and he shoves Snafu against the platform rail. The cold bar digs into the small of Snafu's back. Snafu squirms against Eugene's body as Eugene presses in close. He almost bends Snafu backwards over the rail in his efforts to touch as much of Snafu as possible.

"Eugene…!" Snafu says with an embarrassing amount of longing.

Eugene kisses him silent.

Snafu's arms go around Gene's neck, and he holds onto him for dear life. Gene's hands stay strong against Snafu's back. Till Eugene slides them down, digging into every inch of Snafu's spine.

That makes Snafu shiver as much as the cold does. He loves him. Snafu loves this asshole whose hands and thoughts are all over him, inside and out…and maybe, just maybe, Eugene likes him back.

Eugene drops his hands from the small of Snafu's back to Snafu's ass and smoothly brings their hips together. As if Eugene had all this planned. Like he's taking it one step at a time, going down a list he had all mapped out.

Snafu briefly breaks the kiss to take a breath and tells Gene in a shocked whisper, "Thought you were a virgin?" Cause Eugene seems like he knows what he's doing.

Eugene steps back.

Snafu immediately regrets opening his big mouth.

"I am," Eugene scowls. He leans in and kisses Snafu one last, glorious time. "Funny...I thought you were better at this...with all your big talk about getting people," he says in Snafu's ear. And then opens the caboose door, walks through without looking back, and slams it shut.

"Fuck," Snafu swears and drops to the deck because his legs can't hold him up anymore. He's not sure what kind of game they're playing, but he's pretty sure Gene just won.

SLEDGEFU MATERLIST

(Thank you @edteche2 for editing!)

#Sledgefu #Bad germs

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aphrodites-law · 4 years

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A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (12/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction. (ao3)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11]

A few minutes before closing time the next day, Clarke was waiting at the end of the counter for surprise customers. Gaia was already wrapping her scarf around her neck and Wells was pulling out ingredients for the next day. He had stayed much later today, going over resumes for their interviews tomorrow, but also reorganizing the kitchen.

After giving Gustus a call to offer him the job, Wells had realized that things would get crowded quite quickly. Gustus was a big man and the kitchen was on the smaller side, but it was workable with a different layout. Clarke thanked her lucky stars for her best friend's ability to adapt to situations, as she herself disliked big changes. Regardless of the possible growing pains ahead, it was an exciting time for the café.

Right after Gaia left with a tired wave, Wells found Clarke absentmindedly drawing the branches of the weeping fig. The last customers had left as well and the sun had already set. The mugs were clean, the plates drying, and the day's crumbs swept from the floor. It hadn't rained at all today; a small mercy given that Clarke couldn't stop thinking about her date with Lexa. She wasn't sure where they were headed, but heavy rain might've halted Lexa's plans and she didn't have the patience to wait another day.

Wells peeked at her drawing pad and sighed. "God, she's a beauty," he said dreamily.

Clarke snorted. His fondness for their Ficus was a running joke between them. "Weirdo."

Wells gave her a tired grin as he buttoned up his wool peacoat. He always looked so sharp in winter wear, whereas Clarke always felt like a bulky bear. She'd dressed up a little today - fitted dark pants and a knitted sweater with a nice scoop neck. Her boots were clean and if her hair's curls had loosened over the day, she had still clearly made an effort to look presentable.

“So, you had your vision," said Wells.

Clarke dropped her pencil. "Wh- I- what?"

"It was a few weeks ago, wasn't it? When you came in looking like you hadn’t slept a wink."

Shame gripped her. "Wells, I-"

“You’re looking more crimson than cranberry juice,” he pointed out with a laugh.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t know how to bring it up," she said. She'd always felt guilty for keeping it from him, but it wasn't the easiest topic either. "Did Raven tell you?"

"Nah, she even deflected when I wondered aloud. You just started acting weird whenever someone mentioned visions. You hate lying, so I figured you didn't want to be asked if you'd had one."

Clarke closed her notepad. She should have known he'd catch on. "I didn't mean to be secretive. You know I would've told you the minute it happened, it just wasn't… family friendly."

"Yeah, I figured. It's good though? I mean, you're happy, right?"

It was a surprising question, though it shouldn't have been. Clarke hadn't really thought about it. It wasn't something she asked herself or even expected. For so long happiness had just revolved around the café. Finding the right name; the right building; the right theme. She'd judged her days based on their achieved goals and for a while it had been a thrill. And it still was - her work made her proud and it made her happy too - but it wasn't everything. She'd come to face that recently, and though the wake up call had been… unconventional, certainly, she was grateful for it.

"I am. I'm seeing her, actually. The woman from my vision. You'd recognize her - she's a regular."

Wells nodded as if he'd already put two and two together. “At Octavia and Lincoln's party I saw you talking to her. Then it clicked she wrote that article on Finn - I remembered checking her profile on the Gazette when it dropped."

"Yeah, she works there. She's writing a piece on the visions actually."

"So it's getting serious?" He asked hesitantly.

And really, Clarke couldn't fault his curiosity. She'd been so wrapped up in Lexa that she'd neglected their relationship and now he was unsure if he should gently prod or wait.

“It’s new and we’re taking things slow, but yeah, I'm hoping it'll work out. I really like her."

Wells looked over her shoulder toward the entrance and smiled. "Seems like she really likes you too."

Clarke turned around and saw that Lexa had parked her car and was just crossing the street toward the café.

"Are you coming in tomorrow?" He asked her.

Clarke whipped around, her cheeks flushed. "What? Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?"

"Dunno, you tell me." He laughed as he checked for his keys in his pocket. "Gaia and Harper have the early shift, in case you forgot. We just have those three interviews in the afternoon, but you already know that."

"I do know," she replied with a frown. "There's no reason I wouldn't be here earlier. I'm always here. What are you saying?"

He shrugged, entirely too proud of himself, and walked toward the back exit. "No one will fault you if you take a break. Enjoy your date!"

"I will! And I'll see you in the morning!" Clarke replied stubbornly.

"I'm sure you will!" he retorted, still snickering, before closing the door behind him.

A hand touched Clarke's shoulder and she startled.

"Sorry," Lexa said with a gentle smile. She'd put on her black coat today, the top buttons undone to reveal her sweater - a reddish brown this time, perfect for the fall. Her hair was down and her eyeliner perhaps more pronounced than usual. Clarke wondered if she'd applied it in her car. She looked beautiful.

"Hi, baby," she softened, forgetting all about Well's teasing. He didn't know what he was talking about. Tonight was just going to be a nice date. Some food, wine - whatever Lexa had planned. They were still going slow. Clarke didn't have any expectations other than enjoying their time together. She liked their pace. It was… frustrating at times, sure, but it was working. They had both opened up to each other.

"Hi," Lexa whispered before she inched forward so that she could kiss her over the counter. Clarke sighed into it, having imagined such sweetness all day long.

"Am I too early?" Lexa asked. "Do you need help cleaning up?"

Clarke brushed her thumb over Lexa's jaw. "No, I'm done. I just need to grab my coat and close up."

"Was that Wells who went out back?"

"Yes, he was being ridiculous."

"I thought he usually left earlier?"

"He does, but he's been rearranging the kitchen. I think he's worried Gustus will find it too small."

"Gus has an entire farm and acres of land at his disposal, but he sleeps in his shed because it's warm," Lexa said. "He won't mind."

Clarke beamed, delighted to hear it. "I'm going to give you Wells' number and you're going to text him just that. "

While Clarke left to grab her coat, Lexa worried her lip. "Oh but he doesn't really know me…"

"He will."

Clarke came out from the back with her coat and scarf on. She pulled out her set of keys. "He's my best friend and you're my-" she stopped herself. "I think you'd get along great. He loves theater, devours literature, and he already thinks you're amazing for taking Finn down. So don't worry about it."

"Well, that reminds me: Collins went ahead with suing the Gazette."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

They made their way to the front, where Lexa opened the door for Clarke. "No. It'll never stand, but he aims to waste our time and money."

"Waste of time and money - that's been his motto since birth."

Lexa wrinkled her nose. "Let's talk about something else."

"Please. So where's my carriage?"

Lexa laughed.

* * *

Lexa may not have found a pumpkin to turn into a carriage after all, but her car smelled like apples and she drove so smoothly Clarke could've closed her eyes and imagined they weren't moving at all. She had never thought 'great driver' would do it for her, but here she was eyeing Lexa's hands on the steering wheel and feeling hot.

"How's the writing going?" Clarke asked, clearing her throat when her voice started off slightly rough.

Lexa took a left, which would've surprised Clarke if she'd paid any attention to the road. But all she could think about was Lexa's razor-sharp focus and how she yearned to be the reason for it.

"Good, I finished a first draft. My writing partner is looking at it for now. I need it out of my sight for a few days."

"Partner, huh?"

Lexa smiled as she kept her eyes on the road. "Echo. She wrote most of the FC&B article."

"Did you write for other newspapers before?"

Lexa nodded. "Two. I've been lucky, professionally. Smaller papers have always been more interesting to me, so I stayed away from national ones. I was able to climb the ladder a lot faster than some of my old classmates."

"The Gazette must've been a change of pace. New city, new job - I don't think I could handle it."

"When they hired me I was so happy to be working I just threw myself into it," Lexa admitted. "I got the idea on the Mountain Men soon after, just from reading old archives about them. That kept me busy, so I didn't have time to worry about fitting in. It was nice. Exciting. It felt like falling in love with my job again. Then one day Echo invited me to grab drinks with other colleagues and… I realized things had fallen into place already."

"Costial is pretty magical like that," Clarke said with a smile. She loved it when Lexa talked about her time here. Sometimes it was easy to forget she hadn't even been here a year yet. Clarke remembered her first year in the city - how she'd felt like she'd always belonged here. How she couldn't wait to build her life here. And college had been fun, and sometimes she walked by the campus just for the nostalgia of it, but it was the years after that had really shaped her life into what it was today. There had been many tears and failures before the café, but she'd never once thought of leaving. She hoped Lexa felt the same.

One glance outside the window and Clarke finally had an idea where they were headed. They were quite far from the center of the city now, just a few miles away from Busy Moose Park and its lake on the outskirts. Lexa took the road that led to the park, but she didn't make the turn Clarke had expected and instead continued straight.

"Are we going to the factory?" Clarke asked.

The chocolate factory and its surroundings were certainly a sight to behold, and popular with teens because of its smells and aesthetic quality, but there wasn't much to do unless you brought a picnic. Which was unlikely to be comfortable anyway in this cold.

"Not quite," Lexa answered with a secretive smile.

A few minutes later she finally pulled over into a small parking lot, checking for Clarke's reaction as soon as they got out of the car.

“I know I said I’d take you somewhere more upscale, but I thought you might really like this place."

Because the factory was just a ways down the road and it was windy tonight, the bold smell of chocolate permeated the air. They had stopped in front of a rustic restaurant surrounded by a garden. Small lights glowed softly against the brick walls, complimented by the dancing shadows from a few lanterns. There was a patio with beams covered in twining vines, the plants and wisteria also covering the top like a ceiling. Powerful heaters kept the biting cold at bay, no doubt, making the entire place look like a winter fairytale.

It was the kind of romantic setting Clarke would have made fun of in front of friends while secretly hoping to experience it one day.

“How the hell have I never been here before?” She asked in astonishment.

With a hand on her back, Lexa led her toward the entrance.

“Did you know Icicle? Italian restaurant?”

“Yeah, that rings a bell.”

“This is it. The owner retired and her son took over - revamped the whole place from top to bottom and gave it a mountain lodge theme. He figured they should capitalize on the location more, especially the constant sweetness in the air. It just reopened a few weeks ago. Featured in the Gazette and everything.”

“Oh, that might’ve been when I was a bit angry at you," Clarke remembered and gave Lexa a teasing grin. "Deleted the app like it was some kind of statement."

Lexa scrunched up her nose, not too eager to remember that time. The hostess seated them inside at a secluded table for two. The light was dimmed and there was a candle between them; and even two squares of chocolate wrapped in gold foil.

After they took off their coats and sat, Lexa bit her lip. “It's not too much, is it?"

"Are you kidding? It's gorgeous." Clarke reached for her hand. "You're always surprising me."

A waiter gave them a menu and a basket of bread. They looked like mini baguettes and Clarke was temped to steal one for Wells.

“God, I almost forgot about this smell," she said, taking a deep breath. The chocolate from the factory still wafted faintly in the air, and mixed with the smell of food it had Clarke already salivating for dinner. "In college we used to hang out by the lake a lot. If the wind was on our side we’d always get a whiff from the factory. Not even edibles could beat that.”

Lexa arched a brow. “Edibles, huh?”

“Please, I know you’ve dabbled," Clarke scoffed.

“What makes you think that?”

“You have the vibe.”

“The pothead vibe? I thought I was unreadable.”

“Oh you have that vibe too," Clarke laughed. "But then there’s the tattoos, the plants, the way you write about nature. You’re curious, open minded, andyou went to a liberal arts college. You must’ve tried it at least once. I think that’s how you approach most things: don’t knock ‘till you try it. Am I close?”

Lexa looked away, slightly flummoxed. “It sounds like I’m more of an open book then.”

"Maybe that's a good thing…" Clarke offered with a hopeful smile, thumb caressing the back of her hand.

"Maybe it is," Lexa agreed.

They both picked the apricot glazed chicken with roasted potatoes, pairing it with a white wine. Throughout dinner Clarke felt such pleasant warmth, both because of the wine and Lexa's steady gaze on her. She was relaxed and unfairly charming; a great listener by all accounts, but also coming out of her shell when it came to her own past. Clarke knew it wasn't easy for her, which made it all the more special.

"In retrospect I should've figured politics weren’t for me when I started screaming at my television every time the news came on."

Clarke grinned, knowing the sentiment all too well. "Good thing you don't work for a newspaper or anything…"

Swallowing the last of her wine, Lexa gave her a playful smirk. "Local news. I can take the city hall drama. I actually enjoy it with my morning pastry."

"That I can believe. You always look so deep in thought when you read. Harper dropped a cup once and you didn't even flinch."

"Really?" Lexa asked. "Is there anything else I do that I should know about?"

The waiter stopped by with their desserts: molten chocolate cake for Lexa and a slice of pear tart for Clarke.

"It's not like I stare or anything," Clarke clarified as she grabbed her spoon. "Your seat just happens to be in my vicinity."

"Mm." Lexa smirked. "I guess I just pop up sometimes…" she trailed off, her tone heavy with implication.

She did this occasionally, but more boldly recently. Alluding to Clarke's vision seemed to greatly entertain Lexa.

"Ha, you're funny," Clarke deadpanned.

"Did I also crack jokes while I was kissing you - and I quote - everywhere?" Lexa goaded.

Clarke shrugged as she chewed on her tart. "Actually you were a lot more suave than you are now. Pity."

Lexa laughed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Please, you're very proud of yourself. And it's not fair all I have to go on is your distaste for coffee." Clarke remembered how frantic she had been after her vision, her mind firing questions every second. “Did you know I went to a vision reader right after?”

It had been an impulse and she'd regretted it, but she figured Lexa was familiar with them.

"Really?" Lexa asked, surprised.

“Yeah, the one by the market. Becca’s Reading or something. I bailed at the last minute.”

“I actually haven’t spoken to one. I was toying with the idea, but it might be an entirely different article.”

Clarke grimaced. “They’re just opportunistic money grabbers.”

Lexa offered a spoonful of her cake, which Clarke took before plopping a bit of pear on top of it. The warm chocolate melted the pear in her mouth and she sighed at the taste. Lexa smiled.

“It’s a different point of view. Besides, listening to so many stories might’ve given them some valuable insight even if they opened a shop for the wrong reasons. If my job’s taught me anything it’s to not judge a book by its cover.”

"Hmm you're good at it - your job. And I'm not just saying that because you're wining and dining me."

Lexa looked bashful. "You know, I remember when you yelled at me to get over myself."

"Not our finest moment…"

"No," Lexa agreed. "But it was needed. Before that there was so much I wanted to tell you, but… couldn't."

"I know." Clarke remembered that feeling as well. After the vision she'd look at Lexa and be so certain there was so much left unsaid between them, yet neither of them knew where to start, or if it was reciprocated. "I should've let you interview me - just ripped off the Band-Aid. It would've explained a lot."

"I would've never made it past the first question," Lexa said. "Can you share what you saw, Clarke?"

Clarke smiled cheekily around a mouthful of her tart. "Well, I would hope that kind of confession would score me a date at least."

"Oh I would have asked you out on the spot," Lexa replied with a smirk.

Clarke gasped. "How very unprofessional of you."

"If you hadn't noticed, my professionalism hangs by a thread whenever I'm near you."

Clarke let out a small laugh. "Well, that's one thing I'm glad for."

* * *

After their dinner, Lexa suggested they walk in the park before it closed. It was cold but their coats were thick and the wind was minimal. Clarke had no desire to part just yet, and so took Lexa's hand in hers as soon as they left the car by the park's entrance.

They had a little less than thirty minutes before it closed, but enjoyed every second as they strolled by the lake. The half-moon was reflected on the quiet surface, and though there were a few other people, Clarke felt like they had just stepped into a world of their own.

Clarke nudged Lexa toward one of the Beech trees, its autumn leaves still clinging bravely to its thick branches. They settled beneath it, lying down on the soft ground where leaves piled atop the grass. Between the branches they could see some stars, and Clarke wondered if maybe the park could close and leave them be. There was nowhere else she wanted to be.

She heard some rustling and then saw Lexa look down at her, her face framed by her wavy hair and the stars above. She took Clarke's breath away.

"You're so beautiful," Lexa murmured, struck by a similar thought it seemed. "You have the kindest eyes and the warmest smile. It's the first thing I ever noticed about you."

Clarke reached up to kiss her, parting only when she felt Lexa's hand on her stomach. Even atop her coat and thick clothing, she could feel its warmth.

"I think you're drunk on wine and chocolate."

"Then you'll be relived to hear I'm a very sincere drunk."

Clarke giggled, which made Lexa's smile stretch in such a fond way. She pressed closer to her, the tip of her nose brushing against her neck. She kissed the small spot, as if to apologize for her cold nose.

"I wonder so much about you, Clarke."

Clarke hummed. "What do you wonder about?"

“I’ve spoken with a lot of people. Heard the visions about reuniting with loved ones, getting over addictions, graduating. There’s been some romance of course,” Lexa said. “Aden’s first kiss, though he couldn’t see his boyfriend’s face. Echo celebrating a wedding anniversary with her husband. But so few - even online in anonymous circles - so few like yours.”

Now Clarke felt warm again, mostly from the blush on her cheeks. “I don’t believe that.”

Lexa lifted her head from her shoulder. “Have you personally heard of any?”

“Raven saw Wells naked.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Okay, so I'm a pervert, what can I say?”

“No,” Lexa replied, tickled by Clarke's little huff. “You’re a mystery. You intrigue me.”

Clarke cleared her throat. “Well I’ve had a bit of a dry spell. I had flings, but… I didn't allow myself anything more. The café was taking up all my thoughts and for a while it worked for me. Then the days got long again, and lonelier… Raven said it was probably just my body wanting me to snap out of it.”

“And what do you think?”

Clarke did wonder about it then, or at least differently than she had in the past. It wasn't so long ago she'd asked these questions herself. She'd been so frustrated she couldn't discuss them with the person she'd shared it with, and here she was, lying right next to her in a bed of leaves.

She touched Lexa's hand on her stomach, lacing and unlacing their fingers, gently playing with them as she tried to make sense of everything.

“Have you never fantasized about a stranger?" She asked quietly, catching Lexa's eyes. "Someone who knows nothing about you and yet knows exactly how to make your body soar?"

“That’s not what you saw though, is it?” Lexa murmured. “I wasn’t a stranger in your bed. I knew you and you knew me."

Clarke felt her heart beat faster. She wanted so badly to kiss Lexa again; to feel her body against hers like the night on her couch.

"Lex…"

Their lips were just a hair's breadth apart now. To anyone else, they would've looked like they were kissing.

"How was it different, Clarke?"

Clarke swallowed, trying to find the words. “How? The way you handled me - needy and possessive, but tender and attentive too. Like you were in charge of my pleasure and you had to remind me."

She saw Lexa swallow and so continued, eager to share everything this time: "You said my name and it almost sounded like a prayer - like you couldn’t believe we were together. I never heard my name like that before. I never thought I could make someone feel lucky."

"God, Clarke, you have no idea." Lexa exhaled before closing the gap and kissing her. It wasn't like any other kiss they'd shared tonight. It felt like a promise, almost. Lexa tasted so sweet on her tongue and Clarke could only wonder if all of her was just as heavenly.

She cupped the back of her neck and felt herself throb with desire, her mind filled with both the reality of Lexa and the last of her vision.

"I can even remember the smell of us," Clarke sighed between kisses. "How sticky my skin felt, like we'd been in bed for hours."

"Clarke - fuck."

Clarke pushed Lexa on her back and cupped her cheeks, claiming her lips quite quickly again. She licked into her mouth and moaned at the silky feel of Lexa's tongue.

"Sometimes I'd try to picture us again but you'd disappear," Clarke continued, eyes closing when Lexa started kissing down her neck. "I wasn't sure if it was you anymore. But then you'd come back. I'd feel your hands, your mouth on me… lower, and lower…"

Lexa let out a groan and pinched the bridge of her nose before falling back on the ground, the leaves rustling beneath her. Something in the way she set her jaw made Clarke frown.

"Baby…" she said, tracing a finger over her cheekbone.

"Did you call her that?" Lexa asked without thinking.

Clarke retracted her hand and paused. A grin spread on her face. “What? Are you jealous… of yourself?”

Lexa glared petulantly. “No.”

“You are."

Lexa remained quiet, so after a moment Clarke poked her arm. “Well what about yours?”

"Mine?"

"I wasn't even in it - how do you think that makes me feel?"

Lexa shook her head. "You were in it."

"You said you were just standing in a random kitchen making coffee."

"Yes."

"So?"

They heard the echo of a bicycle's bell on the pathway and turned to the sound, but the couple soon rode away. Clarke looked at Lexa again, finding her staring at the sky.

“What are you keeping from me?”

A small smile grew on Lexa's face - but she remained tightlipped.

"How was I there?" Clarke asked again, deeply curious.

"The doodles," Lexa simply replied.

Clarke remembered that she'd found that to be a strange detail before. She didn't put up her doodles on walls and she didn't frame them. These had to be important. Something that made her identity unmistakable in Lexa's eyes. Sure it could be that her style was recognizable, but Lexa made it sound as if it was something else.

“Lex…"

She lifted Lexa's chin to catch her gaze.

“If I tell you, I worry it might not happen," Lexa admitted.

Clarke bit her lip, finally understanding. It was almost like saying a wish out loud - fearing it might not come true if you broke that single rule.

“You want it to happen?” She asked instead.

A breeze passed as Lexa looked at her intently, leaving no room for doubt. “Yes.”

There was no waver in her voice. Not even an ounce of hesitation. The sheer confidence set Clarke alight. She’d forgotten how it felt to feel so wanted. Whatever it was in that frame… Lexa clearly hoped for it in their future. The fact that she wanted it with her, and no one else, made her desire swell.

She leaned down and kissed her right against the grass and by the slumbering tree, forgetting all about the doodles. Lexa believed it was her - that was all that mattered. After weeks of being unsure of where they stood, if her feelings were even shared, she didn't need anything more.

Lexa wound her arm around her waist, her mouth still as hungry against Clarke's. When they pulled away, she pressed their foreheads together.

“I wish I could see us like you did," she murmured wistfully.

"What would it change?"

“Maybe… maybe if I knew I was good enough for you… If I was sure that I wouldn’t- that I wouldn’t hurt you-"

Clarke shook her head. "Don’t fill your head with thoughts like that. Let's just be here, together, and worry about the rest when it comes. I know it's hard for you, but this - us - right now… it's good, isn't it?"

Lexa nodded. "It's the best thing that's happened to me in a long time."

Relieved, Clarke tucked her head beneath Lexa's chin. "Then just be with me. You can be happy, baby. You have a right to it. Don't let anyone or anything tell you otherwise."

Eventually they made their way back to Lexa's car, neither of them interested in picking up their leisurely pace.

"I'm sorry we ended up walking so much," Lexa said.

"You fed me beforehand, so it's forgiven."

Lexa smiled. "Good to know."

Before they reached the parking lot, Clarke decided to ask what had been on her mind: "I know you said Costial feels like home to you; that you found your place here, but… do you see your future here? Because this is it for me. And I'm… I like you, Lex. I like you a lot. I don't want to be an interlude. I don't think I could take it."

"Clarke," Lexa stepped closer to her. "You're not an interlude, you're - God, you've been in every act of my life here. I don't want to go anywhere. I- I want to be with you. That's what I know for certain. Is that alright for now?"

"It is."

Lexa kissed her softly and then smirked. "I may not have had erotic visions of myself entwined with a hot local, but I still want to stay here."

Clarke shoved her playfully. "I don't even like you anymore."

They laughed the whole way to the car.

* * *

It seemed like a tradition already; Lexa walking her to her door while Clarke racked her mind for a way to linger. When they finally arrived she leaned against her door and sighed.

"Tonight was amazing."

Lexa hummed. "I'm glad."

"I'm definitely taking you out this weekend," Clarke said.

"You are?" Lexa asked, tilting her head to kiss her again.

Clarke closed the gap as she wrapped her arms around her neck. The kiss was slow; amatory, but as always it could not go on for too long before hands wandered.

"I hope you have sweet dreams," Lexa said, her eyes hooded and her lips slightly redder.

"Oh I will."

Lexa glanced at her mouth. "If I pay you a visit again maybe you could keep a journal close by. I'd love some notes on my performance."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Remind me why I ever told you?"

"What? That we lasted hours?" Lexa husked.

Right. Clarke narrowed her eyes and let her hands slowly drag down Lexa's arms. Now, Clarke wasn't innocent. She knew fully what made her look good, even when her coat was buttoned up. She had let Lexa tease her and goad her about the vision all night, and she had kept her retort to herself. But no more.

She pressed her body closer to Lexa's, unmistakably provocative with the way their breasts touched.

“Make fun all you want, Lexa, but remember this: I’ve seen all of you while you haven’t seen an inch of me.” She felt Lexa’s hand tighten on her waist. “I’ve felt your body against mine. Your mouth on my thighs. I’ve felt your tongue inside me.” She glanced down at Lexa's lips and then back up, proud of the gobsmacked look on her face. “So you can tease me. You can push my buttons. I can take it. But you? You only have your imagination." She stepped back and gave her sultriest smile, "And trust me, it’s got nothing on reality.”

She turned around and quickly unlocked her door, then looked over her shoulder. "Thanks for the date, baby."

As soon as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, Clarke knew she'd just played a dirty hand. But Lexa had teased her at all night and all was fair in lust.

With a wicked grin, too pleased by the night's events, Clarke took off her coat and slipped out of her shoes and socks. And because she just couldn't resist one last look, she walked to her window and waited. Finally she saw Lexa walk out of the building. She seemed unfocused, going right and then left, forgetting where she'd parked.

But then she stopped and turned around.

Clarke's smile fell. Just watching Lexa like this, seeing the effect she had on her… it changed something. She had closed the door in the spur of the moment - because they were good at testing each other. Because she had thought tonight should end there, on another game of theirs.

But she didn’t want to play anymore.

And maybe Lexa realized it too. She looked up and found her apartment's window.

Their eyes met.

Clarke reached out for the curtain, gripping it so tight her knuckles went white. She couldn't look away from those eyes in the moonlight if she tried. Even if the ground started shaking beneath their feet.

"Lexa-" she started before stopping herself. It had to be Lexa's decision. Clarke had already made hers. She couldn't call out to her. Not for this. Lexa had to choose.

Clarke held her breath, unsure she'd even be able to leave this spot if Lexa did walk away after all. Until-

Lexa bolted back toward the building.

Clarke watched her disappear from view and then heard her intercom. She rushed toward it and pressed the buzzer, her heart in her throat. Still barefoot, she pulled the door open and waited. Footsteps thundered up the flights of stairs, closer and closer.

Tonight had not ended. Not yet.

#clarke x lexa #clexa #clexa fic #f: a bit of clarity #w

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beck-a-leck · 3 years

Note

Kissing prompt! Shamelessly asking for #14 Cliff x Claire! 😌

I live to answer shameless prompts!

Send me a Smooch Prompt and a couple characters for all your self-indulgent needs!

#14 - A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they're finished.

Featuring Cliff and Claire, and just the teeniest bit of angst and sadness to really make the desperation stick.

Cliff packed slowly. He didn't want to leave the inn, didn't want to leave Mineral Town, didn't want to leave his friends, and perhaps most desperately, he didn't want to leave Claire. But there was nothing to be done for it. He had no money. There was no work to be found in town. Doug had already given him as much of a break on rent as he could afford, and Cliff had relied on Claire to feed him for most of a season now. He hated how much he had to rely on the kindness of others, how much he took that he could never pay back. He had become a burden, and he couldn't stand that.

As much as he did not want to leave Mineral Town, a place that had begun to feel more like home in the last year than any place had for such a long time, Cliff had to go. He had to find a job, and there were absolutely none to be found. He'd thought something might have come up last autumn at the winery, Duke had hired him and another guy to be the manual laborers during the harvest, but at the end of it all, Michael had been offered the chance to stay on full time. Michael had gotten along with Duke like a house on fire, they laughed and joked like they were old friends, even though Michael had only rolled into town one one of the last boats of the summer.

Winter was coming to its close, Cliff had spent a year here, and the last six months truly visualizing Mineral Town as home, as the place he would grow old in with the woman he loved. Maybe even one day, have a family again.

But those dreams had dwindled as rapidly as his funds.

This wouldn't be goodbye forever, Cliff and Claire had had a very long discussion about this, about his leaving, and their future together. If he was lucky, he'd find work somewhere else, he could start earning money, and saving money, building skills that he could some day bring back to Mineral Town and then maybe, in a year or two, he could come back.

But... it was a heavy Maybe. Maybe Cliff would never be able to go back to Mineral Town. Maybe his travels for a job took him too far away. Maybe Claire would fall in love with someone else in his absence, someone who could always be here for her, who wouldn't leave.

Cliff shoved the last few items into his bag and zipped it closed. He slung the pack over his shoulder and turned towards the door. His eyes fell on the room's other occupant.

"I'm gonna miss you, man," Gray said, trying and failing to keep the emotion from his voice. "You sure you don't want anyone to go with you down to the pier?"

"No," Cliff said quietly, "That's okay, I'd rather go alone. I've said my goodbyes."

"Yeah, well, you've got one more." Gray offered his hand. Cliff took it, and they shook for a moment, before the two of them, with a wet chuckle, pulled into a hug. "Won't be the same here without you." Gray thumped him on the back before letting go.

Without another word, Cliff hitched his pack up over his shoulders, and walked out of the room he'd called home for the last year. Ann was sweeping the stairs, and she gave him a tight hug as he passed. Down at the bar, Doug shook his hand firmly and sent him off with a "Good luck, son."

It was snowing, and a bitter cold wind was tearing at Mineral Town. Nobody else was out in the streets, or in the square. With every step Cliff took towards the beach, his heart sunk. Claire wouldn't be here. he had specifically asked her to not see him off like this. They'd said their goodbyes last night, and he, quite frankly, wasn't certain he could get on the ferry if she was there with him.

Snow and sand crunched beneath his feet as he crossed the beach to the pier. He perched gingerly on the icy bench and watched the distant shape of the ferry grow closer on the roiling gray sea.

He shivered and pulled his coat tight around him - Claire's Starry night present to him - it was warm and sturdy. He'd get many good years of use out of it. Wearing it was like walking around in her embrace.

The ferry was almost there when another body settled on the bench next to Cliff.

"Hey," Michael said with a slight smile, he was always smiling. No wonder Duke had asked him to stay on at the winery with a sunny attitude like that. "Cold enough, huh?"

"Yeah..." Cliff didn't feel much like talking. And as much as he didn't want to resent Michael, because the man hadn't done anything to him personally, there was a mean corner of him mind that kind of hated the guy for taking his chance to stay in Mineral Town forever.

Michael was carrying a duffel bag, stuffed full, it looked. Cliff nodded towards it, "You taking a trip to the city?"

Michael shrugged. "For starters, yeah. Spend New Year's partying it up, from there, who knows where I'll go. Maybe spend the rest of the winter somewhere warm."

That didn't make any sense.

"But what about your job? The Winery? I know winter is a slow season, but surely Duke and Manna need your help still. They're letting you take a vacation that long?"

"Vacation?" Michael laughed. "Nah, bud, I quit the winery, like a couple days ago. Small town living is quaint and all, and nice for a little while, but I don't want to be in a little backwater hole like this for the rest of my life, you know." He grinned and nudged Cliff. "I mean, you're leaving too for brighter futures and greener pastures, right?"

Cliff's hands curled into fists. he'd never truly disliked Michael before, but right now he really wanted to hit that flippant, smug, carefree grin right off his face. Just to be certain he wasn't having some vivid hallucination, Cliff asked again. "You quit the winery?"

"Yeah." Michael shrugged. "I was gonna wait til after New Year's but honestly I can't even bear the thought of spending the holiday in this tiny town. I doubt there would even be a party, everyone would probably be in bed by nine." He scoffed. "Probably wouldn't even get a New Year's kiss. None of the girls here are even all that cute, and they're so old fashioned. You basically have to propose before they'll even let you hold hands."

Cliff stared at Michael dumbfounded. His mind raced with possibility. Maybe he could go back to the winery and ask for a job, but Duke had already rejected him once this year, what's to say they still won't want him. But he had to try, right? Worst they could say was 'no' and he would just have to catch the ferry tomorrow. Best case - he couldn't even think of the best case scenario in case he jinxed the whole thing. Anything for a chance. that' what he had promised Claire. He would do any job, try anything if it meant coming back to her sooner.

Cliff snapped out of it as the ferry pulled close to the pier, blowing its whistle to call any stragglers to hurry and catch their ride.

Someone was shouting his name. Michael nudged him. “Hey, isn’t that your girlfriend?”

Cliff turned and saw Claire standing on the steps at the top of the beach. She cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “CLIFF! WAIT!”

“I thought you dumped her,” Michael said with a dint of disdain. “She was certainly mopey about it when I saw her earlier when I was getting my last paycheck.” He scoffed again. “Kinda pathetic, ain’t she? Just a little too desperate, huh?”

Once again, Cliff was seized with the overwhelming urge to deck Michael. But he didn’t. He got to his feet and turned away from Michael and the docking ferry.

“Hey, where’re you going? The boat’s right here. They won’t wait for you.”

“I don’t care. I’ll catch the next one if I have to.” Cliff didn’t spare Michael another thought or a second glance. He took off running towards Claire. She took off running towards him too. The met in the middle of the beach and crashed into each other, throwing their arms around the other and holding on tight.

“Don’t go!” Claire gasped, taking his face in her cold hands. “Don’t go yet. Please. I-I think I found you a job. At the winery.”

“I know. Michael’s leaving.”

A smile broke out over Claire’s lips as she realized, as they both realized, Cliff might not have to leave. There might be a chance for him to stay in town. Maybe he wouldn’t have to go.

She pulled his face towards hers, drawing him into a fierce kiss. Their lips crashed against teeth, but neither pulled away. Cliff kissed her, letting all of the hope bubble up in his chest and drive him desperately forward. Claire let got of his face and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her held her close, as close as possible. He ignored the fear that maybe Duke and Manna still wouldn’t want him, maybe the winery didn’t really need an extra set of hands. Maybe he was just prolonging the inevitable and he would still have to leave Claire.

He held Claire close and kissed her as snow collected in their hair, and their fingers went numb in the cold, until finally, panting slightly for breath they broke the kiss. Cliff rested his forehead against Claire’s, he looked down at their intertwined hands before closing his eyes. In his heart he made a wish, he said a prayer.

I wish… Maybe… Please…

“I should probably go talk to Duke and Manna, huh?”

#replies #ask box games #story of seasons #becky writes things #friends of mineral town #'i'm gonna try practicing romance' i said and then just wrote angst instead #but with that prompt really what other outcome was there?#might clean this up and put it on ao3

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mamabearcatfanfics · 4 years

Text

Instinct - Part One

I told myself I wasn’t going to split this one-shot up. And yet here we are. It was getting a little chunky, and when I was reading back through it, this seemed to be a good place to divide it. Sooo. Here we go.

Achoo!

Inuyasha opened his eyes. He hadn’t been asleep, just thinking, but the slight noise of Kagome’s sneeze had startled him. When she sneezed again and again, even though she was sitting by the warmth of the fire, he felt a little concerned. Humans could be so fragile sometimes, and the longer he spent with Kagome, Sango and Miroku on their dangerous quest only proved that. He shrugged off his suikan and draped it around the girl’s shoulders.

“Here, put this on so you won’t catch a cold.” She glanced up at him with a smile, her fingers stroking the soft surface of the red tanned pelt of the fire rat that made up his suikan.

“Thanks”, she said softly, then continued to sneeze some more, unable to stop them coming.

He squatted down next to her near the fire, and bumped her with his shoulder.

“Eh. Too late, you’ve already caught one.” Kagome giggled.

“No, someone’s just probably gossiping about me”, she said with a grin, but then couldn’t hold back yet another sneeze.

Grumbling under his breath, Inuyasha held his hand to her forehead. It felt a little warm, but perhaps that could be from the fire? And then he realised he’d laid his hands on her without asking. Trying to cover his sudden embarrassment with bluster, he huffed in an exasperated way.

“Don’t be ridiculous, who’d ever gossip about you?” He moved his hand away quickly and placed it against his own forehead. They felt almost the same. “Hmm that’s good, you don’t have a fever.” But was his body temperature the same as hers? He never felt the cold like she did as a hanyou, although he did feel the cold a little more on his human nights. Perhaps his usual body temperature was higher than a humans? Maybe she did have a fever?

Kagome leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, and he froze.

“Uh… Kagome?” She smiled sweetly, nuzzling her cheek against him.

“Thanks Inuyasha, thanks for looking after me.”

“Uh, you’re startin’ ta get warm”, he said, heat rising in his own flustered cheeks. Or maybe that was just him. Did she know what she was doing, with the nuzzling thing? The back of his suikan was already covered in her scent from where he’d carried her earlier in the day, and now here she was, rubbing her cheek against him. Her sweet scent, overlayed by the smell of soap from her time drifted up to him, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes and inhale deeply. Fuck, Kagome.

She always took him by surprise when she did this. Not being afraid to get close to him. It wasn’t that he disliked it, quite the opposite. It was just… what was he supposed to do? Where was he supposed to put his hands? Would she like him to put his hands somewhere? He’d never been taught what to do with a girl he liked or how to show it, and there was no way he would take any cues from that pervert Miroku. His hands only got him into trouble!

“It’s okay, don’t worry”, she yawned.

Fuck, was she reading his thoughts now?! Then he realised with a rush of relief she was still talking about the fever thing, not his inability to show his feelings.

“Keh. You sound tired. You better lay down and get some sleep Kagome. We got a lotta walkin’ to do tomorrow.”

“I know, but…” she squirmed a little, and he heard her heartbeat get a little faster, “could I stay here next to you a bit longer? If that’s okay?” She shivered a little, and before he could put any thought into it at all, his arm went around her, pulling her against him. He tucked the fire rat around her shoulders more snugly, pulling the edges together.

“If you wanna. No big deal.” He cleared his throat self consciously, very glad that she couldn’t hear that his own heart had increased its pace to match with hers.

He sat there with her in front of the dying fire, his arm around her until her heart slowed to a resting pace, and her soft regular breathing told him she was deeply asleep. Picking her up carefully, he carried her over to her sleeping bag, but then realised he had no way to push her into the warm cocoon without waking her up. Instead he placed her on top of it and tucked his fire rat around her snugly. Hopefully that would be warm enough. She was safe and asleep, wrapped in his clothing and in his scent, and his heart swelled. He couldn’t help his soft smile at her cuteness when she rubbed her cheek against the furred texture in her sleep.

Inuyasha moved back over to his position leaning back against a tree, resting Tessaiga over his shoulder. A slight movement where the others were sleeping caught his attention, and he glanced over. Miroku had one eye open and a smirk on his face.

“Very smooth my friend, very smooth indeed”, he whispered faintly, so only Inuyasha would be able to hear it.

Inuyasha’s slight rumbling growl and raised fist had Miroku slamming his eye closed and feigning sleep quickly. Inuyasha snorted, and closed his own eyes. Wouldn’t hurt to sleep for an hour or two himself. Who knew what the new day might bring?

🌸

The next morning dawned bright and sunny, and Kagome arose a little later than usual, blinking blearily at Sango’s cheery good morning as she made the tea for breakfast. As soon as she was upright, Kagome scrabbled in her bag for a tissue, then loudly blew her nose.

She threw the used tissue into the fire, still sniffing a little.

“Are you okay Kagome?” asked Shippou.

“Yeah, I’m fine”, she said reassuringly. “Just a little cold I think, nothing to worry about.”

When they were all packed and ready to go, Inuyasha surprised her by grabbing her heavy backpack off the ground and shrugging onto his own shoulder, walking off without a word. Kagome smiled, watching him fondly as he walked away, grumbling at some teasing remark made by Miroku and taking a swing at him, which the monk evaded deftly. Inuyasha could be so thoughtful sometimes. She had learned not to draw attention to him when he did little things for her like this. When she did, it usually ended badly, with him puffing himself up and reflexively spouting barbed words that she knew he probably didn’t mean, but that were hurtful, nonetheless.

She followed along close behind him, waiting until Miroku had finished their conversation and moved away. Seizing the opportunity, she stroked Inuyasha’s arm surreptitiously in a gesture of thanks as she walked past, ignoring the quiet ‘feh’ of feigned irritation.

By lunchtime, Kagome had used up her whole supply of tissues, the edges of her nose felt raw and chapped, and she was forced to just sniff, which she hated. She knew from experience that there was nothing more irritating than being in a classroom with one person who was continually sniffing, and she worried about annoying the others, especially Inuyasha, who’s patience with others physical shortcomings was not a strong point. Maybe next time she restocked her first aid kit she should add some cold and flu medication; one that would dry up a sniffle without making her drowsy, but that wasn’t particularly helpful right now. All she had were simple over the counter pain killers. She rubbed her eyes, hating the sinus headache that was building behind them. This sucked.

Inuyasha kept an eye on Kagome as they walked along the dirt road after their lunchtime stop. She was getting slower and slower, despite him carrying her backpack for her, and was lagging behind the group. Even Shippou had moved to Miroku’s shoulder instead of his usual spot on Kagome’s when her responses to his constant stream of questions had slowed, and her violent sneezes had dislodged him from his perch one too many times.

“You okay wench?” he asked, stopping to wait until she caught up and then slowing down his pace to walk beside her.

“Yeah”, she sniffed, her voice sounding nasal and stuffy. “Just a cold and a headache – I’ll take something for it when we stop tonight.”

Inuyasha sniffed the air. “There’s a hot spring not too far away – we could stop a bit earlier. Soaking in that and breathing in the steam might help with your cold.” Her eyes brightened a little.

“Thank you Inuyasha, that’s very thoughtful.”

“It’s nothin’ – we were goin’ that way anyway”, he said, his eyes flitting away from hers, suddenly very interested in the treeline up ahead. Kagome coughed suddenly, then grimaced.

“Ouch.”

“Sore throat too huh?”

She nodded. “I should probably make sure I stay away from Miroku and Sango”, she sniffed. “I don’t want them to catch this. Oh wait, I should probably stay away from you too!”

He shook his head. “Nah, I don’t seem to catch human illnesses.”

“You don’t?”

Inuyasha shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah – it’s actually rare for me to catch demon stuff too.”

“Wow, that’s really interesting!” Kagome pondered, her expression brightening slightly as she remembered a concept from a recent biology lesson. “I wonder if it’s a hybrid vigour thing?”

“A what?!”

Kagome’s face flushed, realising that perhaps that wasn’t the most tactful thing to have said. “Uh, sorry, I was just thinking out loud, don’t worry about it.”

But when Inuyasha continued to stare at her with one eyebrow raised, she explained, trying to choose her words very carefully. “It’s something I learned about in biology in school, that’s the study of living things. There’s a technical term for it, but I can’t quite remember it at the moment. Basically, it means that sometimes an organism that comes from two very different uh, parents, will inherit and combine the strengths of both of them. And that also means immunity to illnesses too.”

“What’s an organism?”

“An individual animal, plant, or single-celled life form”, she recited in a sing song voice.

“So not people?”

“People are animals too Inuyasha”, she grinned, sniffing again. “We just like to think we’re better, but really, the only difference is that we think more about stuff, rather than relying on instincts alone.”

He glanced at her, then away again. “So instincts… they’re a bad thing?”

“Not at all. Humans have them too, we just don’t listen to them very well. I guess we’ve forgotten how to. I really admire they way we can rely on yours Inuyasha – where would we be without your sense of hearing and smell, and the way you can sense danger? I can’t count the number of times you’ve had a bad feeling about something and it’s turned out to be true.”

“Keh”, he grunted, glancing away from her again in an effort to hide the rising colour in his cheeks, even as his shoulders squared with pride. “What about demons… and half-demons. Are we one of your organisms too?”

She nodded, pleased that he’d caught on so quickly. “Yes, we’re all organisms – you, me, Shippou, Miroku, Sesshomaru...”

Inuyasha snorted. “Don’t let him hear you puttin’ him on the same level as the rest of us wench, he’s liable to have a hissy fit.”

Kagome giggled, until another coughing fit hit her, making her slow to a stop. “That one hurt”, she whimpered.

“Then stop talkin’ so much dummy! Rest your throat.”

Inuyasha handed her the water bottle from the outside pocket of her backpack, and she gratefully took a long drink. He handed the backpack to her then crouched down in front of her. “C’mon slowpoke, climb on, or we’ll never get there.” Kagome swatted him lightly on the shoulder for the teasing, but climbed on, grateful to stop walking for a while. Her head was beginning to thump, her eyes were hurting, and her throat felt raw. Most colds she’d had only lasted a few days, so she hoped she’d be able to sleep the majority of this one off overnight and feel better in the morning. Maybe Inuyasha was right. Maybe a dip in the hot spring and a good nights sleep would make all the difference.

🌸

A good nights sleep seemed to make things only worse, even with the relaxing soak in the spring. Even though Kagome insisted she was fine, and that it was just a cold, Inuyasha was beginning to worry. It was quite a warm Spring morning, the sun having a little more bite to it than the previous week, but Kagome had complained about the cold. She was keeping her distance from Miroku and Sango now, worried about them catching her cold, which was proving to be stubborn. Her hands had wrapped tightly around her metal mug filled with hot tea as they ate breakfast, the occasional shiver causing her to slop the hot liquid on the ground. He’d wordlessly offered her his back again, and she’d clambered on less gracefully than usual. She was still shivering, despite the warmth of the sunshine and his shared body heat.

“Kagome, you got anythin’ for fevers in that bag a yours?” he asked.

“Already taken some”, she whispered raspily, then turning her head to one side to cough. “Ugh, sorry.”

“It’s alright, you can’t help it. Just try not to put snot in my hair, wench”, he teased, and then frowned when the comment didn’t even get a small rise out of her. Her scent was beginning to remind him of something that he didn’t want to remember, and even though he wasn’t the praying type, he sent a silent wish up into the ether.-

Kagome snoozed on and off on his back all day, blinking blearily at everyone when they stopped to take breaks. When they finally set up camp for the evening, everyone bustled around Kagome, who sat listlessly on a fallen log that Inuyasha had rolled over closer to the fire for her, her unzipped sleeping bag clutched around her like a cloak. She’d stopped sniffing finally, but that seemed to have been replaced with a horrible barking cough that shook her small frame and left her gasping for air.

Inuyasha paused behind her, listening intently. There was a slight rattle to her breathing that he didn’t like. A wheeze when she breathed out, and a crackle when she breathed in. More memories of his mother’s sick room crowded in, the stench of medicine jars and the liniment rubbed on her back, the multiple quilts she had shivered under, the wheeze of her breath as her lungs slowly filled.

Kagome coughed again, then got up shakily, clutching her sleeping bag around her in an attempt to keep her shivers at bay. She spat out a mouthful of phlegm behind a nearby tree, then sat down at the fire again.

“Sango”, she said raspily, watching as the woman served out helpings of rice and miso broth, “I’m not real hungry. I think I might try and get an early night’s sleep. I’m sure I’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Of course Kagome-chan”, said Sango in a motherly way. “That sounds like a very good plan.”

She finished serving out the portions of food, and they all sat down on a log on the opposite side of the fire, watching as Kagome slid herself into her sleeping bag and closed her eyes. Kirara watched the girl shiver inside her sleeping bag for a few moments, then padded across to the other side of the fire, transforming into her larger form and snuggling up beside her.

“Maybe we should have a rest day tomorrow”, said Sango quietly to Inuyasha. “There’s a stream nearby with plenty of fish, and it’s a fairly defensible position, should anything try to attack us.”

Inuyasha grunted non- commitally, his eyes locked on Kagome. Miroku nudged his arm.

“You seem worried Inuyasha. Do you suspect it’s more than just a cold? She does seem very feverish.”

Shippou jumped up onto Sango’s lap, his big green eyes concerned. “Kagome said it was just a cold. She wouldn’t lie about that would she?” Sango stroked the kit’s fluffy fringe, smiling gently.

“I’m sure Kagome will be fine. We are just worried about her because we care, that’s all, and it’s hard to see her looking not well when she’s usually so cheerful.”

Shippou sidled a little closer to Inuyasha, and tugged on his sleeve. Inuyasha looked down at him in surprise. The kit’s green eyes were firmly locked on Kagome and Kirara, his expression serious.

“My mama died of a lung fever. Hers started just like this.”

Inuyasha’s hand ruffled Shippou’s fluffly fringe, and to Shippou’s surprise, he picked him up gently and placed him onto his shoulder.

“Yeah runt. Mine too.”

🌸

It was the violent coughing that woke him in the darkness. And the chattering of Kagome’s teeth.

He moved quickly over to her side, and she blinked blearily at him, shivering inside her sleeping bag. Kirara had moved back over to Sango’s side, sleeping in her smaller form, and the loss of body heat must have chilled her.

““I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”, she whispered, then coughed again, curling herself up tightly in a ball in her sleeping bag. Her voice was raspy, and Inuyasha’s ears flattened at the timbre of her voice, she hardly sounded like herself at all.

“Nah”, he fibbed, “don’t need as much sleep as you.” He moved his hand over to her forehead again. ‘Damn, you definitely have a fever.”

“I feel cold”, she whispered. Another coughing fit began, which she tried to smother. He watched as she reached out her arm to her back pack, grabbing two small ovular pills and swallowing them with a sip of water. She tucked her arm back in the sleeping bag, teeth chattering loudly.

“Here, why don’t you wear this”, said Inuyasha, shrugging off his suikan. The coughing was concerning, and the scent of remembered illness was stronger than before. He tried not to think of his mother. That was a different time, and a different place. Kagome was sure she just had a cold.

But his instincts were screaming at him, that this was serious, that she was in a life threatening situation, and that he needed to act to protect, to care, to save her. He lifted up his jacket and held it open so that she could slide her arms through the sleeves, then belted the obi and helped her snuggle back down into the sleeping bag, his worried gaze locked on her sleepy eyes.

“Hey”, she said. There was a slight smile on her face, despite her flushed and feverish cheeks. “It’s just a cold! It’s not like I’m dying, silly.”

“Keh.”

He moved back over to his position at the base of the tree, watching as she drifted back to sleep. But as soon as he was certain she wouldn’t wake, he moved back to sit beside her. Kagome continued to cough while she slept, sometimes waking herself up with a coughing fit, but would then settle down again to toss and turn restlessly.

Shippou joined Inuyasha next to Kagome not long before dawn.

“She smells sick. Like really sick”, he whispered. Inuyasha grunted.

“You aren’t gonna make her look for shards today are you? That would be mean.”

“Whaddya take me for runt – a slave driver?” he snorted. “I’m gonna take her back through the well to her mother’s house – they’ve got medicines there that can probably fix this in a day. But she’s gonna pitch a fit about it, so you gotta back me up, right?”

Shippou nodded seriously. “She’s gonna be okay, isn’t she Inuyasha?”

He snorted again. “She’s Kagome. She’s stubborn enough to tell any sickness to piss off because she’s got things to do.”

But by the time Sango and Miroku woke a few hours later, Kagome was still coughing and wheezing, looking even more feverish, and Shippou had worked himself up into anxious tears. Inuyasha was doing his best to calm the kit down while still keeping his senses trained on Kagome. When Sango approached to check on Kagome, he thrust Shippou into Sango’s arms.

“Here, take him for a minute.”

She cuddled the sniffing kit against her closely. “What’s wrong?”

Shippou rubbed his little face into Sango’s chest. “Kagome’s sick like my Mama!”

“Hey runt, we don’t know that. It might not be that bad, alright?” said Inuyasha, his eyes never leaving Kagome. “I’m gonna take her throught the well, and her Mama will make a fuss of her and give her medicine and then she’ll be fine.”

When Kagome started to push herself up, he was there to rub her back when she began coughing again.

“What’s going on?” asked Kagome croakily.

“You’re sick.” Kagome glared at him.

“And?”

“And I’m takin’ you back through the well to your mother.”

“Inuyasha, it’s just a cold!” Kagome spluttered. “I’m perfectly capable!”

“Sure, wench, sure”, he said, grumbling as she coughed again. “You can get back to being perfectly capable after I’ve taken you home to rest.”

“But we’re too far away!” she spluttered, teeth chattering again now that she was sitting up out of her sleeping bag. “It would take us days to get back!”

“Tch! Normally I can’t get the idea of you goin’ home outta your head, and now you wanna stay here? It don’t matter how far away we are, I can move fast when I need to.” He bobbed down so he was squatting right in front of her, his amber eyes serious. “And that’s what we’re gonna do, so just get used to the idea.”

“Inuyasha, this is ridiculous!” Kagome huffed raspily. “Yes, I do feel not very well at the moment, but it’s nothing serious! It’s just a fever and a cough!”

Grumbling, he wrapped the fire rat around her tighter, rubbing her back again as another bout of coughing racked her small form. “Dammit Kagome, stop bein’ so stubborn! Just… even if it’s nothin’, it’s not like you’re gonna be able to fight anything while you’re this sick!”

She leaned against him wearily, all the physical fight gone out of her after her coughing fit, but still glowering at him. “Way to hit a girl when she’s down!” She sighed. “Okay Inuyasha, you win…but only because I don’t feel well enough to deal with your attitude at the moment.”

“Feh, more like common sense.”

“Why are you over reacting like this?” she wheezed. “People in my time get sick like this, and they take some medicine and continue working as usual.”

Inuyasha could hear the low pitched crackling sound her lungs made as she breathed, even more audible than before. His sleepless night filled with worry made him sharper than he meant to be.

“But this ain’t your time wench! People die from lung fever okay? Whole families. Whole villages wiped out. And I’m not gonna sit here listening to your lungs fill up when I can do something about it!”

Kagome’s eyes widened, her fingers clutched the sleeping bag. “Influenza pandemic”, she whispered.

“What?”

“There was an influenza pandemic during the Sengoku Jidai. It started in Asia and followed the trade routes to Europe, even Africa and the Americas. No one knows how many people died.”

Shippou jumped down from Sango’s arms, and buried himself in the folds of the sleeping bag filling Kagome’s lap. “Please Kagome, let Inuyasha take you back. You smell sick.”

Kagome shook her head, her hands hovering over his small form as if she longed to pick him up, but didn’t dare. “Please, go back to Sango Shippou. I couldn’t bear it if you got sick too. And I can’t go through the well. I’ve made up my mind.”

“Sorry wench, you don’t have a say in this, I’m takin’ you home.”

“I can’t!”, she pleaded. “What if this is a strain of influenza that hasn’t been seen in my time before? What if Mama and Grandpa and Souta got it? Souta’s still young, and Grandpa is old, if this is influenza, it might kill them! What if someone visiting the shrine got it somehow, and it spread through Tokyo? Millions of people could die!”

“Kagome!”

“I can’t stay here with all of you either. I don’t want to infect any of you. But Inuyasha said that he doesn’t usually catch viral illnesses from humans, so maybe he’ll be okay.” She coughed again, the slight wheeze in her breath evident even to Sango and Miroku now. “You can take me to Kaede’s. She has that isolation hut she uses when she’s treating sick patients.” She stuck her chin out, her expression serious, eyes glittering and feverish, but determined. “You can take me there Inuyasha. But not through the well.”

Inuyasha slung her backpack over his shoulders, then bent down to straighten his bulky suikan around her and pulled up the sleeping bag so only her head was poking out.

“We’re gonna go, but this conversation ain’t over Kagome”, he said sternly, picking her up so that she lay in his arms, head supported on his shoulder. He turned to face Miroku, Sango and Kirara, and locked his gaze on Shippou, who was now openly weeping in Sango’s arms. “Don’t worry runt, I’ll take good care of her okay? By the time you get back to the village, she’ll be doing much better.”

“I’m gonna be fine Shippou, you’ll see”, coaxed Kagome, wanting to cuddle him goodbye, but now afraid to. She waved to Shippou, Kirara, Sango and Miroku, her hand just peeking out over the top of her sleeping bag cocoon, and then Inuyasha was off, his firm hold on her mitigating any jostling from the easy loping pace he was setting.

Her mind was whirling. She’d never even thought about viruses. What if this illness she had was due to some virus that had previously been eradicated in modern times. She couldn’t go back through the well until she’d recovered. She wouldn’t risk it. But then, she was always moving backwards and forwards. What if she brought a virus back through the well from modern times that infected everyone and changed the timeline? What if she already had? There had been that bird flu scare in China earlier in the year. She would be like those European missionaries bringing diseases that wiped out half the population of South America. She’d been so thoughtless and naïve, more worried about leaving physical traces behind rather than illnesses. As soon as she was well again, changes would have to be made.

“Kagome stop thinkin’ so much”, said Inuyasha. He could smell her anxiety and the way her heart rate was increasing. She burrowed her head into his shoulder.

“I can’t help it”, she whispered raspily, suppressing her urge to cough. “What if…”

“No, shut up. All you need to think about right now is gettin’ better”, he snarled, slowing his pace to a brisk walk. His arms squeezed her tighter. “For fucks sake Kagome, you do this all the time. The world doesn’t rest on your shoulders, alright? No one can carry that. Stop wastin’ your energy worryin’ about everyone else and worry about you for a change.”

Kagome rubbed her cheek against his suikan, unable to use her hands tucked away in the sleeping bag. “But I have you to worry about me.”

“Yeah, and what a fuckin’ thankless job that is”, he grumbled. “The number of times you’ve thrown yourself into danger because you don’t think things through wench!”

“Oh yeah?” She tried to push away from him tucked in the confines of the sleeping bag, but it was not use. She grit her teeth, even though that made her headache thump harder. She wouldn’t feel hurt. She wouldn’t. He probably didn’t mean it. But the phrase ‘thankless job’ cut into her like a knife. “Well, what about you! I’m always patching you up, always worrying about you! You get hurt all the time! And you never…” Her raised voice caused another bout of coughing, the wheezing tone as she dragged air into her lungs causing Inuyasha to stop.

“Deep breaths Kagome”, he muttered, shifting her positing so she was more upright in his arms, then tapping on her back, trying to help her cough up the mucus he could hear trapped in her lungs. “That’s it. Cough it up – you need to get rid of that stuff.”

Kagome’s coughing gradually eased to slow wheezing breaths. He drew her back from over his shoulder, supporting her so she could spit the gobs of yellow green phlegm from her mouth.

“I’m sorry”, she wheezed. “That’s so gross.”

“Gotta cough it up Kagome, otherwise it’ll just make you sicker.”

Kagome shivered inside the confines of the sleeping bag. Her whole body was sore, but the dragging ache between her shoulder blades was the worst. She couldn’t ever remember feeling so ill. “How do you know this?”

“Spent a lotta time in my Mama’s sick room. At first they used to chase me out, sayin’ me bein’ there was invitin’ bad luck, but after a while the healer just ignored that I was there. She would tap on Mama’s back to try and help her cough up the fluid before she put the liniment on her back.” He snorted. “Didn’t help her none though. Half the castle died, her included.”

“Inu…”

“Don’t worry about it”, he said, glancing away from her, trying not to see the horrified pity in Kagome’s face. “I was never wanted there. It was only my Mama being there that made me stay. And she held on as long as she could. She was nearly as old as Kaede when she died. I left straight after her funeral and never looked back. They couldn’t wait for me to leave – some of them even said that having a hanyou inside the castle walls was what caused the sickness, a judgement brought down by the kami for harbouring a freak of nature. Feh.”

“But you… you would have still been so small”, Kagome whispered.

“So?” he bristled. “Yeah, I was younger than Shippou, but I wasn’t a runt like him. I survived! It weren’t easy, but I did it. Mainly to spite those fuckers that hoped I’d die during my first winter out of the castle. They’d all be dead now, every last one of ‘em. And I’m still here!”

Kagome managed to wriggle a shaking hand out of the sleeping bag and reach up to touch Inuyasha’s neck. She’d wanted to aim for his cheek, but she couldn’t get her arm free enough. “I’m glad you’re still here”, she whispered. “And I’m glad I’m by your side, even if looking after me is a thankless job.”

His head dropped so that his cheek brushed against her fingers, and eagerly she stroked what she could reach. He sighed.

“I didn’t mean that.”

Her smile lit up her face, even under the flush of fever. “I know.”

“Close your eyes and go ta sleep wench. I’ll wake ya when we stop for the night okay?”

Kagome nodded, pulling her arm back into the warmth of the sleeping bag, snuggling in as Inuyasha pulled her tightly to his chest and began to pick up the pace again, rocking her to sleep with his easy ground-eating stride.

🌸

Instinct - Part Two

#mamabearcat fanfics #inukag fanfic #instinct #how many parts? who knows?#will post on AO3 once I get the next part finished

120 notes · View notes

izzielizzie · 3 years

Note

You Belong with Me by Taylor Swift for Maeve/Luis?

Yes, oh my god I haven’t posted any writing in forever and this is so long but hopefully it’s worth it? Idk, I’m just happy my writer’s block is gone. So you know, send in asks and all that jazz. Also, enjoy!

You're on the phone with your girlfriend She's upset, she's going off about something that you said

Maeve hated eavesdropping, and she knew it was wrong, but it was hard to ignore the shrill voice on the other end of Luis’s phone. Maeve had wandered into the kitchen about five minutes after Bronwyn’s Christmas party started an hour ago. She told Bronwyn, who was still glowing her just-saw-Nate-for-the-first-time-in-months glow, that she was going to get a glass of water, but if she was being truthful as she sat on the cold granite with the bag of chips she fished out of her mom’s hiding spot, she really just couldn’t deal with being around people whose lives extended past Bayview High. She was perched on the counter, her legs pulled up to her chest. It was unusually warm for two days before Christmas, and Maeve felt weird in shorts and a knitted red pullover.

Luis didn’t notice her. Not that she expected him to. In his grand life, Maeve was pretty irrelevant, but one does expect to be noticed in their own kitchen. She didn’t really want to be seen anyway, so she paused the Beatles album playing on the kitchen speaker.

Maeve watched out of the corner of her eye as Luis paced around the hardwood floor with his phone a few inches away from his ear. His left hand was tugging relentlessly at his hair. After a few non-committal grunts, Luis turned off his phone, stuffed it in his pocket, and returned his hands to his hair where he tugged aggressively.

'Cause she doesn't get your humor like I do.

“You’re gonna make yourself go bald you know,” Maeve said after Luis stood in the same spot for a minute, his hands tugging at his hair. Luis jumped and turned to look at her.

“What are you doing here?”

“I mean, it is my kitchen.”

“True.” Luis crossed the kitchen until he was right next to her. “Should you be sitting on the counter?”

“Probably not, but I’m hardly heavy.” Maeve extended her left leg, shifting herself until she was at the end of the counter. She hooked her foot around a stool from the island, and pulled it towards them. She shifted back onto the counter. “There. Have a stool.”

Luis smiled. “Thanks Maeve.”

“No problem. Was that Vanessa?”

“Yeah.”

“What was she yelling about?”

Luis took a deep breath and Maeve realized that possibly wasn’t the most tactful question. Not only because Luis’s girlfriend was constantly yelling, but because she just made it clear she was listening to his conversation.

“You don’t have to answer that.”

“No, no it’s okay. She’s just being a bitch about something I said.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing really. Except that I had the audacity to make a joke.”

“Are you okay?”

“I will be if you don’t tell her I called her a bitch. And if you don’t repeat my duck joke. I think she thought I was talking about her.”

Maeve giggled. She knew Luis’s jokes could be out there sometimes.

“It’s absurd, I know. But god she kills me sometimes,” Luis said after a moment of silence.

Maeve didn’t know how to respond, so she passed him the bag of chips with an apologetic smile.

I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night. I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like.

“What are you doing in here? Why aren’t you with everyone else?” Luis’s question was a reasonable one, but it still stung.

Maeve shrugged. “I wanted to be alone I guess.”

“Alone with potato chips and the Beatles?”

“Just about,” Maeve said with a smile.

“Vanessa hates any music from before the nineties.”

“Do you?”

“Nah, I grew up with the Beatles.”

“I did too.”

And she'll never know your story like I do.

“It must be weird. To be the youngest out of all of us. I mean, you’re only a junior.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I’m not used to be the youngest.”

“Because four of your brothers are younger than you and only one is older?”

“Just about,” Luis said with a smile, echoing her. His smile dropped for a moment. “Vanessa is convinced I have three brothers.”

Maeve smiled as she stretched her legs in front of her. “She got rid of two of them?”

“Apparently.” Luis titled his head at her. “You look like Bronwyn in that sweater.”

“Do I?” No one ever told Maeve she looked like Bronwyn.

“Yeah, hold up.” Luis leaned forward, his hands on her hips as he twisted her towards him more. Maeve could feel sparks travel up her sides at his touch. His fingers were under her sweater, pressed against her skin. His dark brown eyes studied her face for a minute.

“Do I?” Maeve asked, her voice hardly audible.

“Do you what?”

“Look like my sister?”

“Nah,” Luis grinned the first genuine grin she’d ever seen. “You’re prettier.”

Maeve fought off a smile. “Don’t let Nate hear you say that.”

“It’s not my fault if he can’t accept the truth.”

Maeve opened her mouth to say something - she wasn’t quite sure what, she seemed to be running on liquid courage at the moment - but she never got to say anything because Luis’s phone started ringing. He glanced down at it, his grin fading.

“It’s Vanessa. I should answer it. Thanks for cheering me up.”

“Any time,” Maeve said.

But she wears short skirts I wear T-shirts

The next time Maeve saw Luis was five days later at Café Contigo. They were having dinner with Cooper before he had to go back to college, and Maeve was feeling increasingly uncomfortable as she stepped through the beaded curtain to the back room when she saw Vanessa standing over Luis’s chair. She was tossing her hair over her shoulder every moment she could, and her skirt was too short for the frigid wind blowing around the building. Maeve tugged at her t-shirt that used to belong to her mother. The shirt was faded so badly the words couldn’t be read, and the shirt, which usually comforted Maeve with its soft fabric and its perpetual coffee and doctor’s office scent - a smell that Maeve associated with her mother - was now facing Maeve’s wrath. She twisted the hem and considered just turning right back around. Being around Vanessa always made her feel like a fool.

“Have my sweater,” Addy mumbled in Maeve’s ear, pressing the heavy cardigan in her hand. Her eyes were on Luis and Vanessa, her look of disgust evident.

“Thanks,” Maeve mumbled back. Addy was the only one that knew about Maeve’s crush on Luis. Mostly because she was the one who informed Maeve that the crush existed.

She's cheer captain And I'm on the bleachers

“Are you exciting to start cheerleading again?” Bronwyn asked Vanessa politely as the conversation died down.

“Of course,” said Vanessa with a smirk. “I’m so glad Luis and I go to the same college. That way I can keep cheering him at football games.”

“That’s great!” Bronwyn sounded too enthusiastic, and she looked like she’d swallowed spoiled milk. Bronwyn was firmly in the “dislike Vanessa” club. Maeve snickered at her sister’s expression, and Vanessa turned to her. Maeve could feel Addy roll her eyes at Vanessa’s hawk like expression.

“Do you still write for the paper?” She asked it in a way that suggested writing for the paper was something awful.

“Sometimes,” Maeve said.

Vanessa smirked. “It must be boring, stuck on the bleachers writing about games.”

It must be exhausting ruining your boyfriend’s life all the time.

Maeve shrugged. “Not really.”

Vanessa smirked again, but didn’t say anything.

Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find That what you're looking for has been here the whole time.

“Hey, Maeve, hold up.” Luis grabbed Maeve’s arm at the end of the night as she was about to leave. Bronwyn was going to drive around with Nate, so she was stuck driving home by herself.

Maeve turned and smiled up at Luis. “What’s up?”

Luis looks down at her for a moment before shaking himself and taking a deep breath. “I’m really sorry about Vanessa.”

Maeve, who had been annoyed with Vanessa the entire night, let her anger get the better of herself. “Are you really wiling to spend all your time apologizing for your girlfriend, Luis?” She tugged her arm out of his grasp, ignoring the butterflies that his touch bring forth. Luis didn’t answer, and she didn’t wait for one before stalking out of the door, letting it slam behind her despite good intentions.

If you could see That I'm the one Who understands you.

Maeve rested her head on her steering wheel after she stormed out of Contigo, letting her heartbeat even out. She didn’t want to let Luis bother her, but Vanessa had been annoying her since the girls had met, and Maeve hated the way Luis let her walk all over him.

She was about to turn her car on and drive home so she could wallow in self pity from the comfort of her window seat when someone knocked on her window.

“Ugh,” she mumbled when she saw Luis outside her car. She loved that boy, she really did, but he wasn’t someone she wanted to see at the moment.

She rolled down her car window. “Hey Maeve,” he said.

“Hello,” she responded.

“Can we talk for a sec?”

Maeve nodded and reached for the door handle. Luis stepped back, letting her climb out. She hadn’t been able to appreciate how handsome he looked earlier, but as he stood in front of her wearing black jeans and a blue bomber jacket over a white t-shirt, she mentally cursed Vanessa for being lucky enough to end up with him.

“I have a present for you.”

Maeve blinked at the white takeout box he handed her. “Um, thanks? Why?”

“You’re welcome. And because it took you a minute to point out something I should have realized a long time ago. You get me like that, you know?”

I know.

Maeve nodded.

“So thanks.”

“Any time.”

Been here all along. So, why can't you see

“I guess you want to head home?”

“Sort of. My curfew’s soon and my parents are expecting me. They’ll send a search party if I’m even a minute late.” Maeve mentally kicked herself. She probably sounded really childish to Luis. But to her immense relief, he just nodded.

“Your parents are more lenient than mine. If they don’t know where I am at any given minute they think I’ve been murdered.”

Maeve laughed. Luis ran his hand through his hair before reaching forward to touch the end of her cardigan.

“I wish you hadn’t taken Addy’s sweater. You looked cute.”

“You saw?” Maeve asked. She had hardly even stepped into the room when she accepted the sweater.

“You were the first person I saw.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Where was that shirt from?”

“My mom’s high school field hockey team.”

“Ah. Hockey. Not my sport.”

“But every other sport is.”

Luis winked at her. “I’ll let you go, but hey, Maeve, I’ll see you tomorrow right?”

“Probably. I’ll stop by Contigo for a few minutes.”

“Thank god. Vanessa never does, so you’re the one who lights up my day.”

You belong with me,

Maeve was practically floating when she climbed the steps to her room after her conversation with Luis in the middle of the parking lot. She’d hid the box from her mom, who’d wanted details about her night and probably would have wanted to open the box with her younger daughter. She was a little overbearing like that.

Maeve pulled off Addy’s cardigan, pausing to fold it neatly and place it on her cluttered desk, before dropping onto her window seat. She gently untied the ribbon around the box, and pulled open the flaps to reveal alfajores stacked neatly, one on top of another. On top of the cookies was a note written Luis’s cramped, slanted writing.

I know alfajores are your favorite. Enjoy!

- Luis

Maeve smiled down at the box. It struck her then, that she never once told Luis about her love for alfajores. He had just guess after watching her for so long. The idea warmed her from the core.

You belong with me.

As she bit into the first cookie, her phone buzzed with an unknown number. She unlocked her phone and grinned when she saw the text.

Hey Maeve, it’s Luis. Addy gave me your number, rather enthusiastically might I add

Maeve snorted. Addy really was trying.

Hey Luis

His response came right away.

Hey. Like the present?

Very much, thank you

Luis typed, erased, and typed again. Maeve watched the grey dots linger for an absurdly long time, munching on the cookies as some jazz drifted up from the kitchen. She could see her parents dancing in her mind, and she let herself imagine was dancing with Luis would be like.

Finally, the text came through right as Maeve was going to lock her phone and go downstairs to see if her parents wanted to make hot chocolate with her.

Want to go for a walk or something tomorrow?

Maeve grinned at her phone as she typed her response.

Walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be.

Luis’s first though when he saw Maeve the next morning was that she looked beautiful. She was wearing a striped ribbed shirt tucked into the kind of faded jeans Vanessa would refuse to wear because they were “too tacky”. And Vanessa would most certainly balk at the scuffed black Converse high-tops Maeve was wearing. Now that he thought about it, she never seemed to wear different shoes. Quite the change from Vanessa’s shoe closet.

Maeve tugged her hair from her ponytail as she stepped in front of him, turning to look at him, her mane of nearly-but-not-quite-curly hair falling to her waist. If walking backwards bothered her, she didn’t show it. There was something childish about Maeve, something Luis wasn’t able to put his finger on. Maybe it was the way she wrinkled her button nose when she was happy, or maybe it was the way she bounced on the balls of her feet when she walked with him, like she was skipping, but not quite. Or maybe it was the way her freckles and amber eyes lit up her face, her dark hair falling down her back and framing her face in a way that made her look like the most beautiful girl in the world.

If he was being honest with himself, Maeve Rojas was the girl he’d wanted. For over a year. This walk was orchestrated just to spend time with her, and he silently thanked his luck for the fact that she agreed to come.

Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself, "Hey, isn't this easy?"

“Okay, and then what happened?” Luis asked, doubling over with laughter as Maeve recounted her last interaction with her friend/mortal enemy Lucy Chen.

“Oh she threw a fit. Poor Knox.”

Luis kept laughing, glancing at Maeve to see her shift on the bench and throw her hair over her shoulder. This, spending his time with Maeve, this was easy. Much better than spending time with Vanessa.

And you've got a smile That could light up this whole town.

Maeve grinned at him as he sat up. “I’m glad I could make you laugh.”

“I am too. I needed it.”

Maeve frowned, and he already missed her smile.

“Please don’t frown at me. Your much prettier when you smile.”

Maeve giggled, her nose scrunching. “Are you suggesting I’m not pretty when I smile?”

“No Maevey,” Luis said, casually resting his arm on the back of the bench, his hand nearly touching her shoulder. “I’m suggesting that you’re pretty at every moment of your life. But your prettiest when you’re happy.”

Maeve smiled at him, and Luis secretly wished she has shifted over and rested her head on his shoulder.

I haven't seen it in a while Since she brought you down.

“But seriously, Maeve,” Luis said, looking down at her. “Why do you hang out with Lucy? I remember her from last year and she’s nearly as exhausting as Vanessa.”

You say you're fine I know you better than that.

“I’m fine,” Maeve says. Honest, I am.”

Luis gives her his best side-eye. “No, you’re not.”

Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?

“Humph. What are you doing dating Vanessa then?”

“I’m not sure,” Luis answered honestly, surprising himself and Maeve.

“We’re a mess,” Maeve said.

“We most certainly are.”

She wears high heels,

Maeve, who had been very comfortable here on this bench with Luis, was brought back to reality by the sound of Vanessa’s obnoxious high heels.

“Luis! What are you doing?” she demanded, looking at the two of them.

“Sitting. What do you think?” Luis asked angerly. Maeve noticed with a pang that he’d moved his arm back to his side.

I wear sneakers.

“I see that!” Vanessa snapped. “Sitting with a girl who wears tacky jeans and Converses.”

Maeve rolled her eyes. Vanessa Merriman could say what she wanted, but nothing bothered Maeve. It bothered Luis though.

“Can you, just once, not be awful about everyone? Especially my friends?”

Vanessa snorted but didn’t say anything. “I’m leaving. My car is a block away. Come with me or don’t bother.”

Luis hesitated for a moment before standing and trailing after Vanessa like a dejected puppy. He gave Maeve apologetic look over his shoulder, waving casually as if he hadn’t just broken Maeve’s heart and left the shattered pieces on the bench for her to pick up and haphazardly put back together.

She's cheer captain, And I'm on the bleachers.

Hope was a dangerous thing, Maeve realized as she sat on the bench long after Luis had left. It filled up people’s most secret, barren corners with an indescribably brilliant feeling, and when it left, it took the feeling with it.

You like the dream, not the reality Bronwyn had said once. God, Maeve hated it when her sister was right. Because, the thing was, no one would choose short, scrawny, boring Maeve Rojas over a girl like Vanesa Merriman. It was a fact.

Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find That what you're looking for has been here the whole time.

So, Maeve was left to pick up her broken pieces, walk home in the rain, and continue living her dream.

If you could see That I'm the one Who understands you,

Sorry about earlier was the only text Luis had sent her. Just three words.

Maeve stared at her phone, sitting on her window seat with a bowl of ice cream in front of her. The ice cream had been her mother’s idea. She didn’t know about Maeve’s crush on Luis, but she knew heartbreak when she saw it.

Maeve wasn’t sure how to respond.

Was it’s fine, but I’m sorry you have to date a girl who doesn’t get you to passive aggressive?

Been here all along.

Was I’ve known you longer too obvious?

So, why can't you see

You’re being blind, idiot was much too mean. Even for her.

You belong with me.

Maeve was a fan of facts. And the most simple one was this: Luis Santos belonged with her. In the end, after consulting Addy, she sent three words back: It’s okay, Luis.

Standing by and waiting at your backdoor.

Luis stood at her back door, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, subconsciously mirroring Maeve’s movement from earlier that morning, when they had been waiting for their coffee before their disastrous walk. She pushed open her back door after a few minutes. She had changed into sweatpants and an old t-shirt. Her hair was wet, and she still looked as beautiful as he had in the morning.

“Why’d you come to the back door?” Maeve asked. Luis could read the subtext loud and clear.

Why are you here?

“It seemed better than the front door I guess.”

I just wanted to see if you were okay

“Well, makes sense.”

I’m alright.

“Yep.” Maeve put her hands in her pockets.

Cool

“Yep.” Luis echoed, running his hands through his hair.

Cool.

All this time how could you not know, baby?

“So, how’s Vanessa?” Maeve moved her arms around, with her hands still in her pockets. She looked like she was flying.

Are you still dating her?

“She’s fine.”

Yeah, I am.

Maeve nodded. “That’s nice.”

You’re being blind.

“Yeah.”

I know.

You belong with me,

“Well, I’ll see you around, Luis.”

I’m not going to beg.

You belong with me.

“Not if I see you first.”

I know.

Oh, I remember you driving to my house In the middle of the night.

Maeve snuck down her steps to the back door. She had a new understanding of how Bronwyn must feel when she sneaks Nate into the media room. Maeve pushed the back door open to see Luis standing in the door.

“Why in the world did you drive here in the middle of the night?”

“I broke up with Vanessa.” His voice sounded broken and vulnerable. She had never heard him like this.

Maeve didn’t say anything. She just ushered him into the house.

I'm the one who makes you laugh When you know you're 'bout to cry.

Maeve led Luis down to the media room where they sat side by side on the leather couch, Luis with his head in his hands. Maeve hesitantly rubbed her hand up and down his back.

“Sorry I just showed up.” He sounded like he was about to cry, and Maeve hated how sad he was.

“Do you think you get restaurant perks if you’re single?” Maeve asked thoughtfully as she rubbed his back. Luis snorted. “It was a serious question. But I’m glad I made you laugh.”

I know your favorite songs,

“What restaurant do you suggest I go to?” Luis asked, humoring her question.

Maeve thought about if for a moment. “Maybe that one on Elm Street. They play The Beatles. I’m sure if you went at the right time Eleanor Rigby would be playing.” Maeve glanced at him. “That is your favorite song right?”

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“Although it’s kind of sad. But oh well.”

Luis glanced at her. “Is music your only requirement for a restaurant?”

Maeve shrugged. “At least they’re not cooking beetles.”

Luis shook his head at her, a half smile teasing his lips.

And you tell me about your dreams.

“Did I tell you I want to own a restaurant?”

“You did.”

“I never told Vanessa.”

Maeve turned to him, touching his cheek gently to turn his face to hers.

“Vanessa doesn’t matter anymore Luis. Not really.”

Think I know where you belong,

“I know, but...”

“But what?” Maeve asked.

“But I feel like she still belongs in my thoughts, you know?”

“Sort of. You’re not going to move on from her in five minutes. It’ll take time.”

Luis nodded. “You’re pretty wise, you know that?”

Maeve made a face at him.

He plowed on. “Who belongs in your thoughts?”

Think I know it's with me.

You, Maeve wanted to say. She only shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”

Can't you see That I'm the one Who understands you?

Luis smiled at her and sat up, putting an arm around the back of the couch. He still wanted her to lean against her shoulder, but she didn’t. “That’s totally fine, Maevey. You don’t have to spend all your time chasing after someone.”

Maeve snorted. “It’s like you can read my mind sometimes.”

“Nah, I just get you.”

Maeve met his eyes and smiled.

Been here all along. So, why can't you see

“You’ve understood me since we met.”

“Indeed I have, Rojas.”

You belong with me.

“Thanks for sitting with me Maeve, but I think I should head home. I don’t want you to get in trouble with your parents.”

Maeve shrugged. “After Nate and Bronwyn, my mom wouldn’t even bat an eye if I dated a serial killer. Not that I plan to.”

“No one plans to date a serial killer.”

Maeve shook her head. “My thoughts exactly.”

Standing by and waiting at your backdoor. All this time how could you not know, baby?

It took Maeve over an hour to find Luis’s house. Addy’s instructions sucked, but Luis gave her better ones after she asked if she could stop by. She parked her car in front of his house, and she looked down at her phone when it buzzed.

Come by the back

Maeve followed a pretty stone path to the backdoor and stood for a moment before he appeared.

“Hey,” he said, opening the door and stepping out.

“Hey back,” Maeve said. “I had a question for you.”

Luis smiled down at her. “Ask away, Maeve.”

“Wanna get lunch tomorrow. At the pizza place on Elm?”

“Maeve, are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes?”

You belong with me,

“Good, just making sure.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes Maeve, it’s a yes.”

You belong with me.

“Oh. Good.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow Maeve.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Maeve was about to turn away when Luis called her back. “Yeah?”

Luis gave her an odd look she couldn’t interpret, but it made her feel warm and happy. “Nothing. See you tomorrow.”

She could understand what he was trying to say loud and clear: thank you for asking.

You belong with me.

“See you tomorrow.”

Of course

Have you ever thought just maybe

The next day, Maeve and Luis ended up on the same bench as the day Vanessa yelled at them. They were talking about everything and nothing when suddenly Luis put his fingers under her chin and turned her head towards his.

“Hi,” he whispered. Can I kiss you?

“Hi back.” Please do.

That wasn’t Luis’s first kiss. Not by a long shot. But he thought, in that moment, that this kiss was the only one that mattered.

You belong with me?

“I love you Maeve Rojas.”

You belong with me.

“I love you too Luis Santos.”

#maeve x luis #izzielizzie's fics

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snarkwriteswrasslin · 4 years

Text

FFT: slow roasted; roman reigns

Notes:

This one was sent to my main’s ask by @vonschweetz and I knew I had to post it on here on it’s own post because quite honestly, I really enjoyed writing this out when I wrote it.

Summary:

Trina’s got herself a crush on Roman. And she gets a little tipsy. And proceeds to confess that crush. Roman wakes her up the next morning with coffee and plenty of questions about her confession from the night before. Fluffy af.

Pairing:

Roman Reigns x OFC, Trina

Warnings:

uhhh... alcohol / drinking and hangover fluff.

“Girl. If you order one more drink, you are not walking outta here on your own.”

“I told ‘er ‘at about ten minutes ago. She snuck off from me, came back with the bottle of rum.” Nikki’s eyes settled on her best friend Trina and Trina eyed both women and boldly raised the bottle to her lips. Alicia grimaced and shook her head. “You gonna have more than a hangover in the morning. Your hair is gonna hurt. That’s how bad you’re gonna feel.”

“I-I’m fiiiiiine. Speaking of fine.. Roman when he speared Shane tonight. Unf.” Trina mockingly fanned herself and from the opposite side of her, Naomi burst into laughter and asked, “Did you just..”

“This is a constant thing with ‘er. Bit of a crush on Roman, she’s got ‘erself.” Nikki explained, making Naomi burst into laughter even harder. “Now you clamming up whenever he walks into a room makes perfect sense. Girl.”

“What?” Trina eyed Naomi as she took a few more long sips from the nearly empty rum bottle and then, she let out a long burp, promptly going red in the face and remembering at least part of her manners. After a few minutes, Trina continued, a heavy sigh preceding her words as she shook her head. “Too bad I-I’m not this brave normally.”

“Oh yeah?” Naomi eyed her friend, beyond intrigued. Until a few minutes ago, she hadn’t thought Trina had a thing for her cousin in law, she’d simply thought bigger men intimidated Trina for whatever reason.

Trina sighed dreamily and gave a little giggle and nod. “Yeah. Definitely. T-the things I would say to that man.. Or do, whichever. Either one is fine with me.” Trina trailed off under the intent and curious stares of her friends and went silent but Naomi wasn’t having it.

“Uh uh. I want details, woman.”

Trina waved her empty bottle and nodded to the bartender. “Oh no.. N-nooope. Gonna take more than t-that to get me talking.”

And that’s where the night went slightly off route…

Around 1 am, Alicia and Nikki and Naomi were escorting Trina out of the bar and Trina was.. Giggling and going on and on about Roman. Maybe that’s why when Naomi and her husband finally got Trina heading towards the actual hotel lobby and not the hot tub and pool patio to the side of the building, Naomi half joked that it’d be interesting to just.. Leave her at Roman’s door.

Since apparently, neither party was going to say a single damn word about how they felt to each other’s actual faces…When Jimmy gave her a look and a shrug, she eyed Trina who was leaning against both of them, giggling and humming along to whatever she was listening to on her phone.

“No. We just need to get her in her room.”

“You just said, baby girl.. Ain’t no way either one is gonna actually say or act on how they feel. You know Trina won’t, hell, she clams up whenever he walks in the room and Roman.. Roman wants to make a move but Trina yeets herself right outta the room whenever he enters. My boy kinda thinks she is either scared to death of him or strongly dislikes him. So he’s not gonna say anything anytime soon either..”

“Jimmy.. Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

“Maybe I am, baby girl. Maybe we guide her to Roman’s door, leave and let everything play out?”

“ You know this is opposite what friends would do, right?” Naomi’s brow raised as she cast her husband a glance, waiting on him to explain his reasoning. It wasnt a bad idea, Naomi just… Felt protective over the girl. She had since Trina signed.

“Actually, it ain’t. Desperate times and desperate measures. Worst case, Roman will help her up to her own room. Either way, baby girl.. It gets ‘em talkin. That is what you want, right?”

“Yeah…”

“So, we about to be on his floor. We doin this or are we takin Trina on up to the fifth floor where her room is?”

Naomi mulled it over and nodded. “Fuck it. Worst that’ll happen is like you said. Roman’s a nice guy, he’ll take her up to her room if she asks…”

Trina seemed to perk up.

“Hey, we’re on R-Roman’s floor.. I-I think I wanna get off here. I have.. A lot to s-say.”

“Oh good lord.” Naomi gave a gentle laugh but smiled and nodded. “Okay, we’ll get off here. If you back out, just get Roman to take you back up, right?”

“Oh.. I’m not gonna b-back out.”

Trina marched boldly up to Roman’s hotel room door and started banging on it, looking back at Naomi and Jimmy and bursting into a fit of giggles as she waved goodbye and gave them the thumbs up.

“I’ll call ya tomorrow, Naomi!”

“Good. Please do.” Naomi told her friend as she and Jimmy stepped back onto the elevator…

Roman’s brow raised as he glanced at the door to his hotel room and then the time. He sat down the controller to the XBox and stood. Seth nodded to the paused screen and then asked, “You order pizza?”

“Nah, uce. I’m gonna see who’s out there.”

He chuckled when a glimpse through the crack in the door revealed a very tipsy and giggly Trina standing in the hallway, shuffling her feet, mouth opening and closing. He shut the door and Seth hissed, “Was that Trina?”

“Yeah.”

“Say no more, man. I’ma go find Becks. TELL HER. For the love of God and all that’s holy, man.. Tell her how you feel.”

“I don’t know that right now is exactly a good time.” Roman’s back pressed into the door a little more and Trina called his name from the hallway. He answered her, “Hang on a second baby girl. Just getting rid of Rollins ass.”

“Hey S-Seth! Wish m-me luck A-also, I’m gonna… N-need you t-to get l-lost! No o-offense!”

Seth snickered and shook his head and Roman eyed the door. Seth asked Trina, “Why’s that, midget?”

“I’m about to tell your best f-friend Roman I-I’m crazy i-in l-love with his ass.” Trina replied, stumbling over her words a little, saying them in a rush before she could stop herself or chicken out. Maybe if she just got it all out in the open she could finally stop hiding / avoiding the guy like an actual child.

… or, maybe it’s gonna make everything awkward and weird…. Either way, I can’t hold back much longer… Trina thought to herself, starting the attempt to sober up. It wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have completely drunk off her ass.

Seth snickered a little more and Roman gave a bit of a goofy grin and with a slightly shocked expression, he opened the door to his hotel room, picking her up and stepping into the room again when he realized just how tipsy she actually was.

“Y-you heard t-that…” Trina bit her lip as she tilted her head up to stare at Roman, shuffling her feet and going all quiet.

This had been so much easier, she thought to herself, when it was just an idea in her head…

“Mhmm.. and as soon as you’re all nice and sober, baby girl, bet your ass.. We’re gonna talk about it.. But first, let’s get you sittin down, okay?” he chuckled, restraining a groan as her lips brushed right against the side of his neck. He sat down on the couch and he figured she’d move to sit next to him.

He considered himself surprised when she just kept sitting in his lap. Taking a deep breath, he asked as calmly as possible, “Did you mean what you were sayin to Seth? Answer me, baby girl..”

“Y-yeah..” Trina said it and took a shaky breath. “Yeah. I-It’s true.”

“Is that why you’re always leavin the room when I come in?”

“K-kinda?” Trina tilted her head slightly and Roman tucked his fingers beneath her chin to hold her gaze. He couldn’t help the smile because it felt like a major weight lifted. He’d been wanting to say the same.. Or corner her and ask her if she just strongly disliked him for whatever reason for months now. Now that he knew what she’d say, it did make things a lot easier for Roman to make the next big step.

He leaned in a little; Trina mirrored it, their foreheads bumping a little, sending her into a quiet fit of giggles which was cut short when his hand came to rest on the back of her neck and his lips crashed against her lips as she scooted closer to him, pressing her body right against his, a leg on either side of his body so that she straddled his lap. Roman gave a quiet groan and his fingertips dug into her ass, pulling her even closer. Her teeth tugged at his lip and her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging right around the time his fingers also curled in her hair, tugging and using the grip he had on her hair to pull her mouth into the kiss even deeper.

When the kiss broke, she was breathing heavily and so was Roman, licking his lips and giving a playful grin at her flushed face and swollen lips. Trina leaned in again, one hand at his cheek, the other resting on his shoulder, pulling his mouth back to her own.

The phone was going crazy on the nightstand and Roman kept waiting on Trina to roll over and grab it and answer, but she continued to loudly snore, her head beneath a pillow. Roman reached over and grabbed the phone. She didn’t have any kind of passcode or anything and given the sheer volume of alcohol Naomi informed him Trina managed to consume the night before, he was willing to bet the entire farm that she had a hangover.. Or she would when she finally woke up.

← Girl, you alive?

← Well? How did it go last night? Did you finally tell him?

Roman chuckled quietly and put the phone down, untangling her body from his body to throw on a pair of sweats and a tank top.

They had a coffee shop down in the lobby, he’d seen her going in and out of it a lot. If he went down now, he reasoned, he could make it back up before she was up and about, have coffee and something to eat waiting on her.

Because now that she was sober he was definitely in a mood to actually discuss what her showing up at his hotel room at 2 am and drunkenly confessing her feelings meant to him and how he felt in return.

He bumped into Seth and Becky in the hallway, waiting on the elevator and Seth couldn’t resist chuckling as he asked, “Well? Did you finally say somethin?”

“Not exactly..”

“Goddamn it, Ro.”

“If y’ don’t tell ‘er, ah’m goin to lock th’ both of y’ into a closet, ah swear.” Becky spoke up, tapping her foot and Roman chuckled and then answered calmly, “ I did kiss her though. And she did tell me.. But I dunno if she’s gonna remember anything but the splitting headache I’m thinkin she’s gonna have.”

“Hangover?” Seth chuckled and Roman did the same, nodding. “Goin down to get her coffee. She’s still sleepin it off in my room, as much as I wanted to get up and leave her there by herself. Kinda figured I’d do this and surprise her.”

Seth gave his friend a gentle shove and nodded with an amused grin. “Good idea. Well, Becks and I were about to come down and see if you wanted to hit the gym but no one answered.. Maybe we didn’t wake her up.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll catch you guys later or something. All I know right now is we are definitely having a serious talk about what she said and what I did after she said it last night.”

“Lemme know how it goes man. I got my fingers crossed for ya. I know how much you love the midget.” Seth teased as he and Becky walked away, opting to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Roman got on and went down to the coffee shop in the lobby and got the coffee and two pastries and made his way back up to his room, going over what he planned to say as he did.

The phone buzzed against the nightstand and Trina reached out an arm, sending the phone to the floor. “The fuck did I do? Did I drink the bar?” she muttered to herself as she slowly slipped her head out from beneath the pillow and rose to a sitting position.

“I’m not in my room? What the hell?” Trina’s eyes darted around and when she heard his throat clear from the doorway followed by Roman saying “Good, you’re awake. How you feelin, baby girl?”

Trina rubbed at her forehead and yawned then as it clicked into place for her, she palmed her face and laughed sheepishly, keeping her eyes fixed on the bed. There was no way in hell she could look at Roman right now, not given what she distinctly remembered ‘boldly’ announcing through a door at almost 2 am.

“You’re not laughing…” she started, her mouth opened and closed and Roman chuckled, moving closer, holding out the coffee he’d gotten her. “More milk and sugar than actual coffee, right?”

“Yeah.” and then it hit her… He knew exactly how she took her coffee. She eyed him and started to ask how he knew, but Roman shrugged and spoke up. “ I know a lot about you. Lot more than you realize. Okay, whoa.. That sounded creepy as hell, let me start over.” he laughed and Trina took the coffee, sipping as she looked at him through a curtain of hair.

Roman reached out, smoothing her hair back behind her ear. “That’s better.”

He couldn’t help but notice that yeah, she was blushing a little bit and it was cute. “That blushing thing you’re doin right now is cute.”

“I’m not..” Trina started but she trailed off, taking a few more sips as she fumbled around for words -or alternately, waiting on him to say anything, even if it was him, laughing his ass off.

“You are. Your whole face is turnin almost as pink as that shirt you were wearin last night.” Roman was teasing gently, he cupped her chin to hold her eyes on him because he noticed that she kept trying to look away.

“About last night..”

“You’re not gonna back out now, are ya?”

“No, I just.. If you don’t feel.. That.. too.. It’s okay.” Trina managed to get it out and quickly busied herself with unwrapping one of the pastries that Roman held out to her, groaning quietly as soon as the smell of cherry hit her nose. “Ugh, I fucking love these.”

“I thought so. You get one every time you go past that coffee shop in the lobby.”

He took a few bites of his own pastry, an apple one, and then, he got back to the discussion at hand. “Me kissin you wasn’t clear enough I guess.”

“To be fair, I kissed you first.”

“Oh no, no baby girl, you did not.”

“Yes. I did.”

Roman chuckled and then reached out, pulling her into his lap, cupping her jaw and mumbling against her mouth, “Well, lemme fix that. Can’t have it goin down anywhere that you made all the first moves, can I?”

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns imagine #// fluff #// alcohol tw + hangover

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hiddlestonsbabygirl · 4 years

Text

Let It Snow (Steve x reader) part seven

In which (Y/N)’s cousin, Bucky, comes home for the holidays with a friend along and decided to stay for Christmas Eve when a heavy snow storm hits home.

Contains: fluff, cousin!Bucky moment

A/N: hello! Sorry for a short and quick update, just wanted to let ya’ll know that I might be writing new stories, just not sure if they’re gonna be one shot or series. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be updating Let It Snow anymore! Just stay tuned! x

PART ONE

...

“(Y/N)...”

“Mmmm.”

“(Y/N), wake up babe.”

“Wha—what?”

You slowly opened your eyes, wincing as they suddenly adjusted to the light. Aside from the blinding light from your window, you were surprised to see a grinning Steve Rogers on top of you, his weight weighing you down a little but not enough to squish you.

“Good morning!” He greeted with a raspy, just-woke-up voice. He sounds so hot.

“Good mo—“ you couldn’t even finish your greeting because of the sudden pair of warm lips attacking yours.

“Mmmmm...” he hummed in satisfaction, lips still against yours, before he swiped his tongue across your lower lip asking for access.

You couldn’t help but laugh—which allowed him to taste your tongue as you tried to playfully push him away.

“Steve!” You laughed in between kisses. “Morning...breath!”

“Don’t care,” he mumbled into the kiss, adding a little pressure on you and taking in both of your wrists in his hands. He began kissing you harder and you decided to give in and relax into the kiss. His grip on your wrists loosened which you took the chance to wrap it around his neck and pull him closer.

He lets out a breathy sigh as he let his hands wander down your hips, trailing down your thighs to which he spread them apart and made them wrap around his torso. You could feel his hard cock brushing against your pussy, and events from last night came rushing back and you suddenly felt hot and heavy.

“Wait,” you stopped him, placing your hands on his chest and he hesitantly let go of your lips.

“What is it doll?”

“Are you wearing my robe??” You laughed.

“Correction,” he grinned. “I’m wearing an extra robe I found in your bathroom, and I’m glad that it’s two sizes bigger.”

You rolled your eyes, giggling. “Why are you wearing one, anyway?”

“Well, I took a shower while you were asleep,” he replied as he kissed your nose. “and watched you sleep peacefully before I had to wake you up.”

Your brows slightly furrowed but you were still smiling. “Had to? Why? What time is it?”

His smile slowly faltered, his mouth pressing into a thin line while deep in thought. You suddenly felt worried while you waited for his response, all the sexual tension slowly dissipating in the air.

“Come here.” He said as he sat up and moved to sit next to you, leaning his back against the headboard and patted his lap. “Sit on my lap.”

Despite your worry and wonder, your heart fluttered a little as you quickly scrambled from your position and sat on his lap just as he instructed. His hands instinctively rested on your torso while you stared at him waiting.

“To answer your question, it’s still 6am.” He began. “And seeing the weather condition, it’s safe to say that I can go back to Boston now.”

Your face faltered and you tried to hide it from Steve. You thought he didn’t notice but you were too obvious.

“Hey, you know I’ll miss you just as much.” He said, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek, to which you instinctively lean in to his touch.

“When will I see you again?” You asked.

“I was hoping if you want to have dinner with me?” He asked as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “What do you say, tomorrow night?”

You couldn’t control the hurricane of emotions swirling about in your stomach as you tried your best to keep your cool. But then again, you’ve never been good at being subtle. But Steve enjoyed seeing you like this; it made him feel wanted.

“I’d love to!”

“That’s my girl.” He praised with a wink, and he pulled you in for another long kiss.

...

“Need any help?” Bucky asked cheerfully as he watched you sprinkle a few rosemaries on the marinated turkey before you had to put it in the oven. You were helping your family prepare lunch and everyone was occupied with doing something inside and outside the house.

In this case, except for Bucky. He looked like he just got up but seemed to have woken up on the right side of the bed.

“Nah, I’m already finishing up. But thanks anyways.” You replied with a smile as you carried your seasoned turkey and put it inside the oven, ready for roasting.

“You seem cheerful today,” you pointed out as you made your way to the sink to start cleaning up the utensils you used for seasoning the turkey.

“I am, thanks for noticing.” He beamed.

“Pray tell why?”

“Well, I think my best friend just got laid last night.” He replied excitedly, as if someone had just won the lottery.

Your eyes went wide as you turned to face him, and he still had that shit-eating grin on his face. He knew. Steve told him. You can’t even deny it anymore.

“He told you?”

“Yep! But of course he left out the details. He said it was only his to think about.” He replied with a wink and you looked away to hide the growing blush spreading throughout your face.

“So??” He added. “How was it??”

“Shut up, Buck!” You exclaimed half-heartedly, spraying water at him and he laughed.

“Judging by your red face, I think it went absolutely well.”

Talking about this with your cousin slash Steve’s best friend was over-the-top awkward, but you had a few questions yourself that you hopefully want to be answered.

“Buck,” you began. “Are you and Steve open to each other?”

“Whaddyamean?”

“Open as in—you know...does he share to you about his sex life? Like, his wants and dislikes, fantasies...kink?”

He thought about it for a moment. “He doesn’t share those stuff that much, but from what I’ve observed as his best friend for years already, he’s really dominant and wants to care and look out for someone, not the other way around.”

So that explains his daddy kink.

“Why? Did something happen last night?”

Your blush grew. “Well, sorta...”

“You know you can tell me cousin.” He said softly with a reassuring smile, all teasing gone from his face.

“Well,” you took in a deep breath. “He likes to be called daddy.”

“Holy shit!!!”

“Buck keep your voice down!” You exclaimed as you tried to calm down a cackling Bucky.

“Okay, sorry, sorry.” He breathed out after giggling like a teenager, a grin still prominent on his lips. “I actually did not know that my best friend has a daddy kink.”

“Yeah but please don’t tease him or anything. Don’t let him know that I told you about it.” You pleaded, rinsing off the last of the utensils you used for the roasted turkey.

“You can trust me cousin.”

“Tease anyone about what??”

Christina suddenly piped in. Your heart sank, wondering if she heard the whole conversation. Bucky looked surprised as well.

“No one, Chris.” You replied quickly, looking away from the doorframe where your older sister stood and busied yourself with the dishes.

“Are you guys hiding something from me??” She squeaked, feigning offense as she brought a hand up to her chest and looking like she was hurt.

“It’s private, Christina.” Bucky replied, giving her a pointed look and she instantly dropped off the act. If there was one thing Christina is scared at, is that she doesn’t want to upset Bucky. You’ve took notice of that ever since you were still kids, Christina offering her food and even her toys to him whenever Bucky came around to play. And even until now that you were adults, you realized she still has that in her. And you were really thankful that Bucky was there to save you.

“Okay then,” she sighed, obviously disappointed as she glared at you suspiciously. She came near you, leaning against the counter as she watched you put back the dishes in the rack. “So Steve left this morning.”

“That’s correct.” Bucky replied, staring down at the floor, the playfulness and grin gone from his face.

“Told me he’d see me again soon. Gave me a kiss on the cheek.”

You tensed up. Christina must have noticed it, seeing as she instantly grinned, knowing she had struck a nerve.

“Isn’t he sweet??” She giggled, her eyes focused on you, waiting for you to snap with every mention of Steve.

“He’s a sweetheart alright.” You replied monotonously, not catching her eye as you wiped your hands a little too hard on a towel.

“I should ask him to hangout with me,” she began. “Surely he’d say yes. He’s been giving signs that he kinda likes me.”

“Like what signs?” Bucky piped in, clearly wanting to hear what Christina has to say.

“Well, he couldn’t stop staring at me during dinner last night, laughs at a lot of my jokes, and he was even impressed that I saved my friend that one time!”

You struggled to keep your laughs to yourself. Even Bucky was trying not to laugh, only mustering an amused grin as he stared at your sister.

“And the best part is that he bought me a gold necklace as a present! Can you believe that??”

“Steve’s a sweetheart indeed,” Bucky agreed, obvious that he was holding in a laugh just like you were but Christina was oblivious.

“Yeah, it’s so obvious that he likes me.” She then sighed dreamily, spacing out as she thought of the blue-eyed man.

The blue-eyed man that she didn’t know fucked you good last night.

She then turned to face you, giving you a challenging look. “So what did Steve give you, sister?”

Your cheeks suddenly felt hot, but you didn’t want to be obvious in front of your sister. If she knew you got lingerie from the man she’s been crushing hard on, she’d snap.

“Nothing, actually.”

“What??” Bucky and Christina spoke in unison, looking surprised. Oh yes, you haven’t mentioned to Bucky that his best friend gave you lingerie for Christmas.

“Yeah, he didn’t give me anything. He said he wasn’t sure what to give me, so I guess he kinda gave up.” You shrugged as you mustered a fake, I-don’t-care-at-all smile. “No biggie.”

Christina snorted as she began walking out the kitchen, clearly satisfied with what she heard. “Oh, you poor thing.”

Poor thing indeed.

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mimiswitchywrites · 3 years

Text

Not A Burden: Chapter 9

TW: SH references, attempted s****de and references

Master list or read on AO3

2.7k words

I think I'll be posting about 2 chapters a week from now on? But who knows. If you want to be tagged, message me/comment!

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Gwaine awoke, head as heavy as the treasury with ears ringing like he’d been stood next to the great bell for the twelfth hour, to a knock at the door. He pulled his pillow over his eyes, the dim light through the shutters still too much. He groaned and suddenly stopped, feeling yesterday’s food fluttering about.

Another knock.

He threw the pillow at the door, muttering ‘fuck off’ and rolling onto his front. Something next to him moved, an arm draping over his back. He turned to face it, her, and tried to remember her name. Avery? No, Anna? Maybe… he would get it eventually.

Another knock.

Gwaine sighed loudly and dramatically, before pushing himself from the bed. His stomach dropped and he pulled out his chamber pot, barely reaching it in time. The pork pies from the tavern were never that good going in but oh, how they were worse coming out again.

“Gwaine?” Came a muffled voice from the other side of the door, “are you alright, my friend?” Lancelot, of course it was Lancelot. Gwaine loved the man like a brother but he really didn’t understand the concept of good timing.

“’m fine mate,” he wiped his mouth, spitting into the pot, “just a bit much to drink.” He stood, legs shaking a little, and made his way to the door. He took a deep breath, dragging a hand down his face and plastering on his classic smile, and opened the door.

Lancelot stared, taking in Gwaine’s appearance. The man looked like shit. His hair was tangled, a bit of sick still on the corner of his mouth, bruises on his bare chest (most looked as if they were from… affectionate activities but some were clearly from the tavern brawl Lancelot had heard the guards talking about). He held an arm behind his back, his other holding onto the door frame for dear life – he barely seemed capable of standing up by himself. There were small scabs on his knuckles, surrounded in purple and green bruising.

“Oh, Gwaine.” The man in question grimaced, looking down at himself. He straightened up as much as he could, swaying a little. “You should sit down and then I think we need to chat.” Chat, that was never good.

Gwaine sighed again, heavier this time. “Fine, let me put on a shirt at least, yeah?” Lancelot nodded, gesturing for them to head inside.

He watched Gwaine turn around, looking for something to put on. As the man turned, however, he couldn’t help but notice some curious marks on his arm – the one that, now Lancelot thinks about it, had been hidden behind his back.

Before he could comment, his theorising was interrupted by a moan. A particularly feminine one at that, coming from the bed. Lancelot’s head darted round to investigate, just in time to get full view of a (stunning) woman sitting up. Sitting bare chested. Lancelot felt his face burn, mouth opening and closing. She yawned, stretching her arms above his head – Lancelot felt his blood move from his face, further south. He made an awkward choking noise and she turned to face him, a light blush coating her face. She brought a dainty hand up to wave at him and, with jerky movements, he waved back.

“Hi”

“… hi”

Gwaine stepped between the two, fully clothed and with a shit-eating grin slapped on. He gestured to the chairs by the fire and threw a dress on the bed in front of the girl. “It was lovely to spend the night with you my love, but we shall have to catch up another time, okay?” She frowned slightly, nodding, and pulling the sheets up to cover her chest. “You’re welcome to go back to sleep if you wish, but we’ll be talking over here – official knight business and all that.” Lancelot opened his mouth to object, this had nothing to do with knight business for the most part, but Gwaine sent a look his way that sent a clear signal for him not to do that.

She pulled the dress over her head, doing her best to shield her body from the men who, noticing, turn their backs on her. She brushed her hands through her hair, hopped out of the bed and waved, saying a hushed “goodbye, Gwaine, Sir Knight.”

The pair sat, Gwaine poking the fire and chucking a log on. His face was still pastie and glowed with a sheen of sweat. Lancelot’s face crumpled in concern for his friend.

“What’s happened to you? Since when has a night on the Tavern affected you so?”

Gwaine scoffed, “Since it’s been a week straight—” He clamped his mouth shut, brain catching up with his words.

“A week? What are you doing? You’re losing control.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry yourself, mother hen.” He laughed but there was clearly no real feeling behind it, voice still weak from emptying his stomach not ten minutes before. Lancelot notice, brows softening in concern. He leant forward and rested his elbows upon his knees, watching the mans every move.

There were chunks of his lips bitten raw, blood dried on in a few spots, and his facial hair was looking particularly shabby. He was never clean shaven but there was usually a more uniform look to his beard. The shadows under his eyes were worse than Lancelot had ever seen them – worse than they had been after the fight with the dorocha. Maybe it was just the poor lighting, but Lancelot was sure there was a concerning blue tint to his friend’s skin.

He looked dead.

“You’re killing yourself.” Lancelot didn’t miss the way Gwaine flinched at this, eyes opening wide and breathing hitching before returning to normal as if nothing happened.

“Pfft, nah I’m not mate, if I wanted to do that, I would just clean Princesses sock – that’s more than enough to kill a man.” He laughed, smile awkwardly sculpted and eyes dull. With some effort, he stood and made his way to the table by the window, where he poured himself a drink. He downed the wine in one, breathing a sigh of relief as the warmth spread through his chest and down to his belly. He leant his head back, closing his eyes as he faced the ceiling beams. He could feel his heart beat in every inch of his body, head pounding. He got lost in the gently thud, near jumping out his skin as a hand landed on his shoulder.

Lancelot was stood, inches from his face, a horrible look of pity etched on his features. He kept eye contact as he gently pulled the cup from Gwaine’s hand and lead them both back to the chairs.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay, but I need you to know that I am here. I am sure Merlin would say the same, and the rest of the Knights too if that’s what you need. We care for you, Gwaine.”

Gwaine tried, he really did, but he couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. “I told you, I’m fine. What about you, anyway? I heard rumours of you kidnapping Miriam. Trying to bed a poor, injured, woman?” He did his best to look disapproving with a hint of mischief, but his brain was too hazy to coordinate his features and ended with a sloppy wink. It still did the trick, though – Lancelot’s cheeks drowning in blush and eyes darting around the room, anywhere but at Gwaine.

“I did not kidnap her—”

“Sounds like something a kidnapped would say.”

“—and I am not trying to bed her, but I suppose I am trying to court her.”

It was Gwaine’s turn for the eyebrows to shoot up – he hadn’t expected Lancelot to actually be trying anything with the girl. She didn’t look like that was something she was interested in, especially not with the state she had been in the last time her had seen her. “oh?”

“Well, sort of. I haven’t officially asked her if I can, but we have spoken every day in her rooms and we had a midnight picnic not two eves past.” He sounded as if he was in a dreamlike trance, “she’s so beautiful, Gwaine.”

Gwaine frowned, concerned for his love-struck friend. “What is she like?”

“She’s wonderful, truly. She’s so funny and she tells the most amazing tales when she finally talks about herself and—”

“You know she tried to kill herself only a week ago?”

Lancelot’s expression soured, a flicker of pain in his eyes, “of course I am aware of that, Gwaine. That doesn’t make her a terrible person and I don’t appreciate you forcing your biases on me.”

Gwaine felt the skin on his left arm tingle in stripes. He grit his teeth, jaw clenched.

“Now, if that’s all, I am glad to hear you are well and shall take my leave. Arthur wants you to be in training in two hours. I suggest you wear something more protective than normal if you want to say something like that again.” Lancelot stood abruptly, chair scratching the stone and ringing in Gwaine’s ears. He didn’t even look up as Lancelot stormed out, door slamming painfully behind him.

“Fuck.”

His right hand snaked into his left sleeve and picked at the small scabs forming. A hiss escaped his lips.

“Fuck!”

After much debating and a few more goblets of wine, Gwaine found himself sat with Merlin on the training grounds. The pounding in his skull had subsided mostly, thanks to some concoction from Gaius, but he was still left with the memories of the morning.

“He’ll get over it once you’ve apologised, it’ll be okay Gwaine,” Merlin gently placed his hand on the knight’s thigh (Arthur, on the other side of the field, did his best to pretend he hadn’t noticed.) “But I must ask, why did you insult her? Do you not like Miriam? You’ve been off ever since we found her.”

Gwaine groaned, falling back against the earth, watching clouds float by. “I don’t dislike her; I don’t even know her.”

“Then why have you disappeared? At first, I thought you were only tired and that you would spring back when we returned to Camelot, but it’s been days and you’ve barely left the Tavern the whole time.”

The knight ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the nape of his neck. He didn’t want to answer Merlin, knowing the boy would smother him if he knew what was wrong. “I’ve just… I have my own thing’s going on, okay?” Merlin went to speak, likely to give some speech about how he is always there if Gwaine needed him, “I can deal with it myself, mate, I’ll be alright. I appreciate you though, friend.”

Merlin wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He knew Gwaine well enough to know that he was keeping something from him but also that pushing him would do no good. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and placed his hand on his friends’ shoulder, love in his eyes. Gwaine looked away quickly, picking at the grass. He cleared his throat, pulled at the back of his hair again, and stood, heading in the direction of the knives and targets.

Gwaine was Merlin’s closest friend, next to Lancelot, and he knew that the knight was funny in the brain sometimes, but the way he had been acting for these last few days wasn’t right. As much as Arthur told him not to, Merlin couldn’t help but feel concerned. He would get to the bottom of it though, he would do anything for Gwaine, even if he resisted at first. Cogs started turning, Merlin planning the best way to get the infamous chatterbox to talk honestly.

Miriam flopped back on her bed, regretting it as her back twinged at the solid mattress. She stared at the ceiling, tracing the marks in the stone with her eyes. Merlin was sat on the chair, watching her.

“You’ve done well with this room; most servants have to bun together. I think Arthur put a word in with the Steward for you. I’m glad you two are on good terms.” She hummed in response. “Have you heard from Cook yet? I heard her talking to the Steward this morning about confirming some people so I think maybe you will soon, will get the job, I mean. So, how –”

Miriam sat up, staring him down. “Merlin, I really appreciate you, but please stop.”

He clamped his mouth shut, pulling his head back in surprise.

“I will hear from Bea at some point and yes, I also think I got the job, or they wouldn’t have let me have this room. I don’t need you making me worry more about it, alright?” She sighed, head dropping into her hands. “Anyway,” came her muffled voice, “what were you looking so worried about on the field earlier?”

Merlin cleared his throat, still shocked at her little outburst. “Gwaine isn’t acting himself and he won’t talk to me – to anyone – about it.”

“Why does he need to talk to anyone?” She asked, genuinely confused.

“Well for starters, he’s a knight of Camelot and the King needs to know that his protectors are well enough to fight. And he’s my friend, I want him to be okay.” She nodded slowly, processing the idea that anyone would actually care that someone wasn’t themselves.

“Huh, okay,” Was her intelligent response.

“You’re confused?”

She shook her head and then paused, “I just, I don’t know, this whole friend’s thing doesn’t quite make sense to me. I’ve never really had them before, bar my bosses, I guess. I was never friends with mine like you are with Arthur.”

Merlin blushed, looking down – Miriam pretended not to notice but smirked to herself. “What is he like? Gwaine, I mean?”

A grin spread across Merlin’s face as he thought about his friend. “He’s nothing like he was in the woods when you two talked. He’s hilarious and he’s always there for his friends and even helped me save Arthur a few times, despite not liking him at that point. He has an amazing sense of right and wrong and he’ll always fight for what he believes in. And he’s happy. He lights up a room and spreads joy, normally while rilling up other people. But he’s not doing any of that at the moment.” She nodded, gesturing for him to expand. “He was so quiet after we found you and he’s always had a reputation of being a drinker but he is practically living in the tavern and when he isn’t there, he’s…” he broke off, trying to figure out the most appropriate phrasing, “he’s bedding people.”

Miriam looked off to the side, mulling over what Merlin had described. She felt herself in his words but knew that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Could I talk to him?”

His brows shot up, surprised with the girl yet again. “Uh,” he stuttered, “Yes? Yes, I could arrange that, I guess.”

She stood, dusting off her – his – trousers. “Great.” She pulled him from his seat, ignoring his groans of protest, and, after a second of thought, dragged him into a hug. He tensed up at first, before warming into it. They stood like that for a few moments and then she pulled back, face hot. “Sorry.”

He shook his head, grinning. “No need to apologise, that was, nice?” She blushed, looking down at her worn out boots.

“Not used to the affection thing yet but I think you’re my friend and it seemed appropriate.” She hesitantly glanced up at him through her lashes. He was smiling down at her, eyes a little glossy. He pulled her into another hug, cupping the back of her head.

“I am honoured that you would think of me as such.” She sighed, content, and her body relaxed into his.

A gentle tap on the door interrupted them, the pair breaking apart. They both had tears welling in their eyes – she couldn’t quite fathom that he cared for her but appreciated him pretending.

He cleared his throat, nodding his head to the door as another tap sounded from the other side.

“Hello?” she called; voice thick.

“Miri?”

The pair locked eyes again, Miriam’s wide with dread and Merlin’s sympathetic.

“Could we talk?”

#merthur #merlin #bbc merlin #gwaine #gawaine #sir gwaine #gwen #guinevere #arthur #lancelot #king arthur #sir lancelot #lancelot x oc #gwen x oc #gwen x fem!oc #queer gwen #not a burden #mimiswitchywrites

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tsarinastorm · 4 years

Text

Lace & Paper Flowers-Adam Sackler/Reader-Part 2

Words:3100

Rating: Explicit, more smut.

Chapter 1

Adam wakes up in an unfamiliar room as he takes in his surroundings, he notices a very warm, and very female body curled up next to his. The memories of the night before creep back into his mind and he smiles when he thinks of the night with Y/N. Y/N had picked him out of a bar, stopped him from drinking again, they had great sex and she talked him through some of his past relationships. He remembered how he had panicked when she mentioned that she knew there was something going with him, and how relieved he felt when she was accepting of it.

He thinks of how amazing last night was. Was this what a good, healthy relationship is like all of the time? Or do you just feel this right when you find the person you’re meant to be with? He can’t remember ever feeling this way with Jessa, even when things were good with her, he had never felt this calm, and right. Maybe with Hannah for a while, but it certainly didn’t last long. He wondered if this would be a one-night scenario with Y/N or would she want something more long term like he wanted. He feared he’d scared her away with all of his talk of Hannah, and the plethora of problems that came along with that relationship.

Y/N had offered him Chinese and they sat in her bed talking for hours. He walked her through his relationship with Hannah, then Natalia, and Mimi-Rose. She listened to him contently, chirping in with some commentary ever now and then, but mostly she just listened to his venting. He ended up telling her more about past than he had hoped to share this early on; he told her about how his alcoholism went to sex addiction, and how his sister practically raised him. When she asked about his sister, he had to tell her about all of their issues, documenting Caroline’s instability, and triggers. Y/N was very accepting, and even shared anecdotes about her own family, and assured him that no family is perfect. She talked about her past toxic relationship, and how she had got through it to the other side.

Not wanting to end the conversation, or go to sleep after speaking of a heavy subject, they began talking about everything else. He found out the foods she hated: pickles, mayonnaise, and sushi. He then put her into shock when he shared his dislike of ice cream. She confessed that she would eat peanut butter straight from the jar, and he told her of his habit of having exactly one-and-a-half bananas for breakfast. He asked her about how she got into writing, what types of books she writes, and where she gets her inspiration. She told she’d been writing since she was a kid, she did Young Adult fiction and contemporary fiction, and that she got her inspiration from dreams and real life. He told her about why he got into acting, and talked about his earlier roles. She listened as he accounted for the film he and Jessa made, and she said that writing it out was probably cathartic for him but didn’t understand why he would go back to Jessa when he literally had no problem leaving her the second he found out Hannah was pregnant. They had promised to talk about his relationship with Jessa tomorrow and he could not determine if he was looking forward to opening up to Y/N more or absolutely dreading that conversation.

Adam knew it was way too early to feel this way, but he already knew he never wanted to spend a night away from Y/N again if he had any choice in the matter. He rolled over and nuzzled into her, and he felt her move in closer to him as well. Then, his cock very much seems to remember last night and becomes alert to her presence. Then as if on cue, Y/N wiggles herself so her hips are practically grinding into his hardening cock. He puts his arm around her waist, then wants to make her feel as good as she made him feel last night. He thinks of how good her cunt felt around him, and he suddenly wants to worship her even more than he already does. He snakes his hand first to cup her breast and she whimpers as his fingers knead her. She leans back into him as his thumb strokes her nipple so it peaks. She nuzzles into him and breathily whispers, “Mmhmm good morning, Adam.”

“Good morning, Y/N. It was hard for me to let you sleep when all I could think about was doing this,” he tells her as his hand leaves her breast and moves down to between her legs. His fingers lightly explore her folds, as he feels every inch of her. She’s already wet and feels like warm velvet. She writhes back into him, clenches her thighs around his hand, and rocks into him trying to create friction. She then moves her arm behind her, palms his cock and says, “Not the only that’s hard for you…”

She grabs ahold of his cock and begins to stroke him, pulling her hand up and down, pausing to then feel around its head. His hips involuntarily thrust into her touch. He thinks he needs to take back control of this fast, he��s supposed to be pleasuring her, not worried about coming himself. He drags his fingers up and down, before settling on her clit. He moves against the nub gently, teasing her, before whispering, “Nah, I’m hard only for you. And you’re wet for me.”

“Mhmm, more.”

His fingers begin to add more pressure as they deliberately circle her clit, which is becoming stiffer under his ministrations. She is whimpering more now, as he doesn’t relent. She says she’s close, so close, then he pulls his hand from her. He flips her unto her back as moans from him releasing her, she gives him a stern look, and he pulls her legs apart to shift to where he’s on top of her. He kisses her mouth softly before moving down her neck, suckling on her tits. She moans and her hand tangles in his hair, pressing him to her. He swirls his tongue around her nipple before letting go with a pop. He continues kissing down her stomach, and stops right before getting to where she’s guiding. He puts his face into her mound, and tells her, “I am going to devour this perfect cunt of yours. And I won’t stop until you’ve cum all over my face.”

You wake up to the feeling of Adam gently nuzzling you and pulling you closer to his warm body. You can remember last night’s activities, it was the best night you had had in a long time. The sex was amazing, and the conversation that followed was just as amazing. You were worried that he’d close you out when you asked about his problems, particularly the women in his life, and you were surprised when he opened to you. His relationship with Hannah reminded you of your past relationship, and that made you want to help him even more. You wanted to help regardless, but after your conversation with him, you really cared for him. You felt like the two of you just clicked in such a natural way that it had to mean something. You had opened to him too, telling him about your past relationship, and some of your family drama. You also told him little things about you that didn’t generally tell people until you were more than comfortable with them. But something with Adam just felt right.

You feel Adam’s arm snake around you and cup your breast, and he’s encouraged by your whimpers because he continues on. His hand eventually goes to between your legs and you know you’re already dripping wet. His fingers feel so good against you, you’d had good sex before, but nothing on this level. It seemed like he knew your body better than you did. You’re feeling like this is one-sided so you reach behind you and grab his cock. You stroke him until he’s rock hard and thrusting into your palm.

You notice that Adam’s hand on you halts, right when you were so close to your climax. Bastard, you think. You then feel yourself being moved by Adam as he lays you on your back and crawls on top of you. He kisses you, then his mouth moves down your neck, over your chest, and lower until he hovers over your sex, “I am going to devour this perfect cunt of yours. And I won’t stop until you’ve cum all over my face.”

Then he puts his words into action. He starts by licking a broad stripe up your slit, then he takes your labia and rolls it with his tongue. Your impatient and want him on your clit, you buck your hips, and he wraps his arms around your waist to hold you against you. You feel him rolling your clit with his tongue and between his lips. Then he takes his tongue and gently strokes it back and forth, before continuing with more pressure. You can feel your orgasm climbing, Adam takes his tongue and feels around your slit, and nibbles on your lips, before going back up to your clit. Now, Adam shows you no mercy as his mouth descents on your nub: sucking on it, rolling it, and gently mouthing it. He goes back to sucking on it, and then you moan as your orgasm hits you. You can feel your legs tingle, your back arches off the bed, and you know your toes curl. He just laps up all of your juices and waits for you to come down from the ride of your orgasm.

He then looks up at you and smiles, before climbing back up and kissing your lips. You can taste yourself as you open up your mouth to seeking his tongue. You can feel his throbbing erection up against your stomach, you put your hands around it and start to move. Adam shifts your legs so they’re up on his shoulders and he lines himself up at your entrance. He enters you slowly, and you can feel the slight burn. The burn turns into pleasure as he starts to thrusting into you as his fingers hold onto your hips before moving up to squeeze your breasts. His thrusts get harder and harder, you decide to move your hips up as much as you can so the angle changes just a little. That angle is perfect because you feel him hit your clit as his rocks into you, and his cock is bumping your g-spot perfectly. You start to moan as you move with him, chasing your climax.

“That’s it, Y/N. Cum all over my hard cock.”

“Yes, your cock feels so good in me.”

“Are you gonna do it, Y/N? You gonna cum on my cock like a whore?”

“Yeah I’m gonna cum all over cock.” When your orgasm subsides, he rolls you over unto your stomach. You go to put your hips up, assuming he wants it doggy style. His hand pushes your ass back down, and his knees spread your legs out behind you. You feel him hover you and he’s everywhere. You can feel his back against your back, one of his arms is besides your head, and his other hand intertwines with yours as he thrusts into you. You’d never had sex in this position, but you found yourself quickly liking it. You could feel his movement and feel his sweat drip onto you. Apparently he liked it too as you announces he’s close. You tell him, “Cum on my back.”

He pulls out and follows your command. He lays down beside you for a moment, then he’s up grabbing his shirt. He starts to clean you up and he watches you seriously. You raise your eyebrows as you try to figure out if you did something wrong. You’re surprised by his next comment.

“Was that okay? I didn’t mean to call you whore. I don’t think you’re one at all but I was just saying all of those things to get off.”

You laugh, he watches you waiting for your response so you add, “Uh Adam, its okay. I understand how dirty talk works. Do you think I would have let you continue if I thought you were serious or if it offended me?”

“I didn’t know, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You’re not going to.”

You say and the two of you doze back into sleep for an hour or so before hunger overcomes you both. He follows you into your kitchen as you get out some eggs and begin to scramble them as he starts to fry some bacon.

“This is a nice place, how did you get it?” He asks while focusing on the bacon. You’ve gotten that question before. Successful writer or not, a three-bedroom apartment with a large terrace was hard to find in NYC and even harder to afford.

“My cousin and I split the lease. Her dad was friends with the guy who built this building. He called in a favor so to speak, and this was the only unit they had available so we got it a good price.”

You took your breakfast out on the terrace since it was a beautiful day outside. You ate your breakfast in relative peace, aside from the occasional giggle. Now this is a routine I like, you thought to yourself.

After your breakfast, the two of you decide to go for a walk around your neighborhood, and you ask the question that he seemed to be avoiding all morning, “Tell me about Jessa.”

“She came into my life as my relationship with Hannah was falling apart, and she was an addict so I thought she understood me in some cosmic way that Hannah never did. I was really desperate to feel a connection again, and we worked really well sexually. But we were both too destructive to work. We would have terrible fights that would leave my apartment trashed, we would say awful things, and throw shit at each other. Then we would fuck and it would be peaceful again for a short time before it would start back. We got into a bad fight last time and I told her I couldn’t do it anymore and she skipped town.”

“I agree that I think you wanted to feel a real connection again, and because was there you thought that connection would be with her. But you couldn’t have been that serious about her if you were able to ditch her so easily the second that you found out that Hannah was pregnant. I think you used Jessa to get back at Hannah, and as a bed warmer until you got Hannah back or found another real relationship.”

“Y/N, you’re so fucking good at this stuff. You’re right, I didn’t see it at the time but I understand it better now. So what’s your literary equivalent for that relationship?”

“Reminds me of all of the bad things about Heathcliff and Catherine in Wuthering Heights. They can’t live with each other, but can’t let each other go, and make themselves and everyone around them miserable by extension.”

“Not bad, I’ll take it.” He says and he wraps his hand around yours. You give his hand a tight squeeze and smile at him.

********************************************************************************

Adam couldn’t remember the last time he felt this at peace. He and Y/N had a good morning: sex, breakfast, and then went for a quick walk. As they were approaching her apartment again, he couldn’t help but be afraid that this was it that she wouldn’t want to see him again. Naturally, he asked the question to best address the issue.

“Can I take you to dinner, Y/N? I know we kind of did this backward, but I want to take you on a nice date.”

“Look, I really like you and I think you really like me. But we both just got out of toxic relationships and I don’t think running straight into another relationship is best. We both need time. We’ll go slowly. Because I don’t want this to be some kind of rebound or one of those situations where we get attached to each other just because we came along at the right time. Come back and ask me for that date in a month’s time.”

“You’re right. I agree, we’ll go slowly. If it’s real and meant to be, it’ll work out. You better be prepared to see me in exactly a month.” He says as he runs a hand through his hair, and his other hand goes down into his pocket.

“You know we can still talk and stuff, just not go on a date.” Y/N says and laughs. Good he thinks, because he doesn’t want to ever give up talking to her. He could talk to her all day, every day and never get bored.

“Okay, good. I like talking to you, and I didn’t want to give that up. Can I have one more kiss?”

You reach up, putting both of your hands on his face, and pull his lips down unto yours. This kiss is different, it feels more passionate but more relaxed too. It goes on for a while, then you finally let him go before you head back up to your apartment. You know you’ll see him again, and you only hope that this month flies by fast.

It’s been a month since your hookup with Adam. He began texting you and calling you the same day you parted ways. The two of you have been having intense conversations that last for hours every evening. You were so proud of him: he had commercial auditions, an audition for a film based on a Tolstoy piece, and was going to go back around Broadway. He also told you that he hadn’t spoken to or heard from Hannah or Jessa. You were in a better place too, you had finished your latest book, and were preparing for promotional work for it. You had successfully avoided your ex, and for the first time in a while, you didn’t even want to reach out to him, or know about him at all. Maybe it was because you knew you had someone better. You could feel your phone vibrating through your purse, and you couldn’t help but smile when you see it’s Adam.

“Hey, kid, you know it’s been a month. So how about that date?”

“Alright, I don’t think I have any other plans.” You say laughing.

“I’ll send you the details, I have big plans for us.”

@klauscarolove, @misskitred @shesakillerkween

#adam sackler #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler smut #hbo girls #girls fanfic #girls hbo #lena dunham #adam driver

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certifiedskywalker · 5 years

Text

Academic Misgivings (Part Eleven) - Peter Parker

You and Peter Parker aren’t friends, but you’re not entirely enemies either. You don’t like him but he always tries to be nice to you. He has everything you’ve ever wanted and you’ll do anything to show him that you can make it on your own. But can you?

Now Peter knows the truth, he knows about how deep your dislike of him ran before you got to know him. Can he forgive you? Would he if you were given the chance? Could to make it on your own again?

/ PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR/PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / PART TEN /

When you wake up, you’re not expecting the light of Tuesday morning to blind you. You must have slept through the night, but your body ached in a way that told you that it had been a restless sleep. The sound of birds chirping outside of your window gave the new day a crippling touch of reality. With a groan, you sat up from under the covers.

Light rays of the sun streamed through your curtains and glinted off of your phone. As you reached for the screen, the refracted glittering of light around your room disappeared. The movement stirred the screen of your phone to life and you caught sight of the time. Nine o'clock.

Before panic set in with the gripping fear of being late to school, you were struck with a memory. The dance. It had been moved to Tuesday because of the fact it was Teachers Institute day. You had nowhere to go or anywhere to be.

You were reminded about that cruel fact when your phone went off. Your heart raced at the thought of a text. Who was messaging you? You couldn’t bring yourself to look. The phone buzzed again in your hand; the vibrations traveled up your arm like a shock. It was enough to coax you into taking a peek.

Your spirits fell when you saw the notification of a new Instagram post. It wasn’t from Peter. Granted, you weren’t sure if he ever used social media for anything. No, instead it was a notification from Betty’s Instagram. A photo of the blonde girl with a boy, a freshman, if your memory served you well. They were both smiling, clutching a poster that read: Please don’t snow-flake out on me, come to the Winter Formal?

With a groan, you shut your phone off and held it against your chest as if to dull the ache there. Had Flash...no...had you not made your stupid mistakes, you would still be going with Peter to the Winter Formal. Now, there was nothing. Although, the pull to apologize, to find Peter, was still lingering.

It coiled around you, tied you to your guilt. But it didn’t render you immobile. Slowly, you peeled yourself out of your bed and dressed. Your limbs moved through sludge as you pulled your sweatshirt over your head. A heavy breath shook your frame and a lingering scent of Peter’s cologne wafted into your nose. No matter what you did, you couldn’t escape him.

And if you couldn’t escape him, you might as well find him.

The walk from your apartment to the coffee shop was a long one. Each step felt like slogging through tar. You were fighting every impulse to bury your nose in a book, drown yourself in studying rather than worry. Yet, you could not stop your feet as you trekked through the crowded sidewalks of Tuesday morning.

It wasn’t as bustling as it was yesterday morning. The rush of people desperate to make to their place of work on time was over, leaving a few scattered do walkers and idle persons ready to start their day. Brisk morning air kept their cheeks a rosy pink and you imagined your nose had turned red in the cold. It was amazing that it hadn’t snowed yet.

However, a bit of frost had gathered in the large windows of the coffee shop. Little branches of ice reached up, clambering to get ahead of the sun that was beginning to beat down on the glass. Before long, it would melt and would fall. The feeling of falling you knew well. Now, you were on the floor, dropped there in the heat of the moment and melting in your own mistakes.

The coffee shop wasn’t busy or alive as it once was. Perhaps it was because you were without Peter; whenever you were there alone it felt cold. Or it could have been the fact the blue-haired barista wasn’t at the counter. An older gentleman with greying long hair and lanky arms worked behind the counter, sorting cups and tea bags.

You peeked around the booth that blocked the view of the shop’s interior and frowned at the near-empty tables. It was hard to believe that, with a day off school, the cafe wasn’t filled with students from Midtown. A few sneakers poked out from under tables, tapped against the wood floor in a fumbling beat. There was no familiar head of chestnut hair or light laugh filling the air. With a heavy heart, you turned back to the door.

“Y/N?”

You spun on your heels and locked eyes with the owner of the voice. The peak of curiosity in the pitch was odd, especially when you saw it came from MJ.

“Oh...hey.”

“You drink coffee?”

“Uh,” you directed your eyes to your shoes and scuffed them gently against the floor. “No, I was just...looking.”

“At coffee or for Peter?” You lifted your shocked gaze to MJ’s relaxed expression. One of her brows was quirked up with interest, that cool intrigue that never left her features. When you stayed silent, MJ sighed. “Ok, I don’t like getting into things like this but I mean, you guys are both my….” she screwed up her nose with strain, “...friends so I want to know.”

“MJ...it’s a lot…” She raised a hand and you trailed off. There was something comforting about her stance, her unwavering indifference with specks of care peppered in. MJ was there and always herself. Something you wished you had been.

“You don’t have to tell me everything,” she explained, “I just want to make sure you’re alright.” You let out a bitter huff of a laugh and shook your head.

“That depends on whether you’ve seen Peter.” MJ frowned at your words and nodded.

“He disappeared right after you. I didn’t seem him after that yesterday.” You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded sullenly.

“Yeah,” you shook the grip of sadness and nodded once more. “I have to go.” You heard MJ’s plead to stay but you pushed open the door. The cold air greeted you once more, kissed your cheeks and wrapped you in a chilly embrace.

You started walking down the sidewalk but not back to your house. Part of you pulled to go anywhere but back. You only had to move forward. Only hurt lingered behind you. That, and the slamming of a door.

“Y/N, wait up,” the slapping of MJ’s sneakers against the pavement echoed her words. In a matter of seconds, she was catching up with your pace. Her bundle of hair tumbled over her shoulder as she fell into step beside you.

“MJ, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” she conceded but continued to walk with you.

“MJ….”

“Are you still going to go to the dance?” Her question pulled you to a halt. MJ stopped too, her arms swinging to a stop. The look she wore was flat, although her deep brown eyes were bright with interest.

“I...no...I was going to go with Peter...so...no.” MJ pursed her lips and sighed.

“I know I said it’s a mating ritual but you don’t need to go with someone. You can come with...you should go by yourself.” She kicked a few pebbles with the toe of her Converse as she spoke. For the first time, it seems like MJ is shy.

You wait for a beat, your mind racing at the proposal. The idea of going to a dance was only appealing when you were with Peter. You looked at MJ’s face when she looked up at you. There was a half-hearted smile on her lips and you sighed at the sight. She was only trying to help.

“And support a high school cliche?” You asked in a breath, “that seems to go against your cause.”

“Pft, what cause?” MJ played along, but the smile on her face warmed you against the cold.

“I don’t have anything to wear though...Pete-” you sighed, “I made plans but they didn’t fall through.” MJ nodded and glanced around the street. Along the road, a few clothing shops displayed an array of dresses, suits, and skirts in their windows. You tried to follow MJ’s eyeline but saw only a secondhand shop.

“Don’t worry,” MJ said suddenly. She turned you to give you a grin. “I’ve got us covered.”

“I don’t know about this,” you said wearily as you studied your reflection. The material of the dress was puffed out beyond your reach. It was clear that, when MJ suggested the gown, she meant you to wear it as a joke.

The fabric sounded like plastic whenever you brushed your fingertips against it. Rough leaves were more akin to the material of the skirt but the bodice shimmered like scales of a fish. It felt as if a seamstress blinding picked and pulled different samplings of fabric blindly and hoped the colors wouldn’t clash; giving no thought to the texture. Despite how perfectly it fit your frame, hugged you like a dream, the dress was an affront to nature.

“You don’t like it?” MJ’s teasing was enough to coax your gaze from your reflection. Her brown eyes were mischievous and bright as she grinned at you.

“Funny,” you shot back and stepped away from the mirror. “You want to wear it?”

“Nah, I’m good,” MJ waved a dismissive hand and stood from her chair. “I’ve got a dress already.”

“So you were going to go this whole time?” MJ scanned her eyes along the dress as you spoke. Her eyebrow quirked up with slight cringe of disgust.

“I may hate high school cliches but that doesn’t mean I won’t participate in them. I have to get out of the house sometime…”

MJ, having trailed off in her speech, found interest in a rack of discarded gowns that looked much too Spring colored for a Winter formal. You were still caught on her words to notice the next dress she wanted you to try on. Perhaps you and MJ weren’t so different. She was bright, as were you, and lonely. You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought of Peter and what he had said: you are more than what’s under the mask.

Now that you had caught a peek past MJ’s mask, you were pleased to find you were no longer alone. “I want to go to the dance with you.”

MJ’s head poked up from the rack of clothes, her curls bouncing like loose springs. “Aren’t you already ...?”

“No, I mean,” you sighed and let your arms fall to your sides in defeat. “I just wanted you to know. That I want to go with you.” You met MJ’s eyes and smiled softly. “That you’re my friend.”

You saw it then. The same loneliness that had held you for so long, turned you bitter with every passing second a person; the loneliness that kept you from seeing past yourself melted away from MJ’s face. Shared and now lost, you both smiled at each other. At least, before MJ coughed and shook her shoulders.

“Cool.” Your smile widened.

“Cool.” MJ looked back to the racks of dresses, some that reeked of mothballs and others that, somehow, looked more appalling than the one you were wearing.

“So...you wanna talk about it?” You peered at MJ with a quirked brow. The girl didn’t meet your gaze. Her fingers danced through the fabric and left you hanging in confusion.

“About what?”

“Peter?”

“Don’t overthink it.”

“What?” For a split second, you expected to see Peter at your side. But when you glanced to your right, you saw only MJ. Her curls were bundled up and out of her face that was illuminated by the blue light emanating from the lights hanging in the gymnasium.

“Don’t overthink it, just….” she gestured to the huddled bodies of your peers as they swayed to the music. “Just enjoy it...if that’s possible.”

“Maybe this is a bad idea,” you replied. You could see Betty’s done-up blonde hair as she spun around with her freshman date. She was smiling like every other couple on the dance floor.

“I don’t think it was ever a good idea,” MJ sighed as she leaned back against the wall. “But it’s better than-”

“Moping? Staying at home?” A low voice broke through the dull rhythm of the beat. In sync, you and MJ looked to your left. Ned, wearing a flimsy, blue suit-jacket walked towards you with a strained smile on his features.

“Are you projecting?” MJ fired back as Ned stood by your side.

“Are you?” Ned turned back and raised a brow at MJ.

“Touche,” MJ nodded, “touche.” You let out a huff and turned your attention back to the dance floor. People still pushed through the doors with laughs carrying after them. Your heart ached a little at the sight, the strings of the muscle pulled by longing.

You had thought about this night before. Entertained its possibilities in your dreams as you got closer to Peter. Now, Peter was nowhere in sight and the possibilities were limited. Even with your friend, it felt like something was crushing your chest.

“Hey, Y/N,” you shook your head and brought your attention to Ned. His dark eyes glinted in the light and you saw a softness that reminded you of Peter.

“Yeah?”

“He’s alright.” He gave you a gentle smile and you felt the pressure lift off of your shoulders. “Peter’s okay.”

“You’ve heard from him?”

Ned nodded. “He texted me.”

“Did he…” you swallowed hard and frowned. “Did he say anything about anything?” Ned shook his head and rested a hand on your shoulder. In the touch, you felt a new sense of dread run up your spine.

“He’ll come around, really, Y/N.” MJ looked over and you felt your stomach tighten. You had told her how you felt about Peter and, with minimal judgment, she had listened. She nodded in agreement with Ned who smiled. “He likes you.”

“He did,” you clarified and Ned’s hand dropped from your shoulder. “People hold grudges and I-”

“Peter doesn’t do that,” Ned said, “trust me.”

You did trust Ned, as much as you could trust someone you hardly knew. The problem was you barely trusted anyone in general. Only recently were you learning to trust yourself. How could you trust Peter to forgive you? Did you even deserve forgiveness?

“Y-yeah, okay,” you breathed and you turned your gaze back to the crowd. The shades of blue lights that shown down on the polished floor danced along with the flood of bodies. You decided then you that did deserve forgiveness, but you did not deserve Peter Parker.

So when he walked through the doors of the gym, you felt your heart sink. His pale cheeks were bathed in the light of the Winter Formal; the tones of azure sharpened the features you had come to know and adore. Even with the distance between you, you could see the sparkle in his eyes as he looked at the bodies writhing on the dance floor. You had missed him, you knew it then, in that moment, how horribly you had missed talking to him; seeing him.

“Wow, he came around fast,” MJ jested as she tipped her head in Peter’s direction.

“See, I told you,” Ned cheered softly, although his voice already sounded far off in your ears. You felt dizzy on your shaking knees and, for support, you reached out and grasped at the air. Your hand met with an arm and you were shocked by a sudden warmth.

“You don’t have to talk to him, Y/N,” MJ said in a slight whisper. “But you might feel better if you do.” MJ lifted her arm to steady you. Soon your feet let grounded and you heart rate slowed from its sprinters’ pace. You wanted to feel better.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed. You let your hands fall your side and you fingers brushed against the skirt of your dress. It wasn’t the gaudy gown MJ had joked around with, or any of the ones you tried on with a goofy grin. This dress was one your mother had picked out for your high graduation years ago.

When you had told MJ about the dress, about how you weren’t even sure if the store sold gowns like it anymore, she had dived deep into research. Soon the store that still had one in stock was found. Luckily the subway fare ended up costing more than the dress itself. When your mother had picked it out it had been expensive. It was funny how things changed.

Like how in one moment you were immobilized by fear and in the next you were wading through waves of people to face the fear at its source. Rejection could not hurt you, not if you didn’t let it. Your mother’s absence could no longer hurt you, not anymore; not at school; not at this Winter Formal; and not while you looked into Peter’s eyes.

“Hi…” The pause that greeted you resounded in your ears. Not a murmur dared to break it or Peter’s gaze as he studied your features. You studied him too, although his expression was unreadable. His pink cheeks could have been from the cold or anxiety; wide eyes with blown pupils could stem from the barrage of light or the sight of you. There was no way to be sure.

“Hi,” he replied suddenly. Every sense focused on the sound of Peter’s voice and you tired not to marvel at him in his suit.

“Pete, I-”

“I got your voicemail,” he interrupted. Your voice fell flat, trailed off in the music that swirled about you.

“You...you listened to it?” The air around you thickened and you found it hard to simply breathe. It was a stupid question, you knew that, but it was all you had.

“Y-yeah, I-I did.” Peters’ eyes darted behind you and then back. You hoped that not everyone was looking at you two but you could feel the fury of burning stares

“Peter, I am so sorry.” The corners of his lips lifted slightly in a small smile. You had missed that smile.

“I know, Y/N. But, is it true?” You furrowed your brows and Peter gave you a shy smile. “That you can be a better person, is that true?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “more than true. I hope that...maybe you could help me with that. If you want to…” Peter smiled a little wider and you felt your own expression shift.

“Of course,” Peter gushed. “I-I just uh...that’s all I can do...with you…”

“Oh, yeah, no, I understand.” Your cheeks burned at the thought of a deeper relationship with Peter. You had been so close, literally holding his hand and now there was only friendship. That was something you could get used to; you could be okay with that.

“Y-yeah, cool. But I...I mean I haven’t been entirely honest with you either.” Peter scratched the back of his neck with the muscle of his arm bulging slightly against the dark-grey fabric. He seemed nervous suddenly and his words set you on edge.

“What do you mean?” You leaned towards him and tried to meet his gaze. Peter turned head and glanced at you with pinkened cheeks.

“I mean, I-I,” his hands fell to his sides and the aura of confidence returned to him. “I mean I just want to dance with a pretty girl.” He gave you a questioning look with big doe eyes and a quirked brow.

“Well...that’s good because I want to dance with a pretty boy.” You and Peter beamed at each other for a moment of silence. Then, another moment later you were both gripped in the throes of laughter. It felt easy and calm again.

There was no longer worry suffocating you or dread that filled your gut. You only felt Peter. His hands on your waist and the smell of his cologne enveloping your senses. He was warm and his shoulders were strong when you rested your arms on them. Everything felt right and in rhythm; swaying to the gentle music.

The tips of his fingers gathered at the dip of your spine and the touch was enough to quell nausea that swelled in your gut. As you slowly spun and paraded through the pockets of couples dancing, you could feel their eyes on you. But, with Peter, that didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered when you were with Peter; even if you weren’t with Peter. At least, not in the way you truly wanted to be.

“The punch is gone, the party is officially over,” MJ sighed as she took the seat at your side. The chair legs squeaked against the floor of the gym and the sound echoed out, over the quieted music. With the night winding down, you were fighting to stay awake. Your feet ached from dancing and you wondered how Peter was still going.

He and Ned had summoned enough energy to continue cupid-shuffling. They looked ridiculous, arms waving and legs kicking out madly. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips as you watched. It was impossible not to.

“They’re dorks,” MJ grumbled. She was slouched in the plastic chair, her eyes half-closed. “Why are you friends with them again?”

“Why are you friends with me?” You countered with a tired grin.

“You’re in a better mood,” she leaned towards you, “did you talk to Peter?” You felt your smile fall but you nodded. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah, we’re friends again so…” You barely met MJ’s eyes but when you did you saw only disbelief. “What?”

“You sound overjoyed,” MJ drawled.

“I am happy but it’s...we almost, we were close and I know why we’re not. I do, it’s just hard to not think about it.”

“Wow,” MJ rested back in her seat, “you really like him.”

You let out a heavy breath and sank back in your chair. Peter and Ned still ambled about, their smiles shone bright under the flickering lights. They were carefree, even as the song ended. Barely a drop of sweat graced Peter’s glowing face as he walked over to the table. Ned was clapping as he took the seat beside MJ.

“You guys missed out!” He cheered. Peter took the seat across from you, nodding in agreement. You watched Peter as Ned repeated every move of the shuffle while seated. The bright smile he wore was starlight-bright. You were wholly enraptured and couldn’t stop staring, even when he met your gaze.

“Are you tired?”

“What?” You shifted in your seat and straightened your posture. Peter mirrored your actions and leaned over the table slightly.

“I can walk you home if you’re tired.” Silence fell over the table. Ned stopped with his cramped dancing and MJ went more quiet than usual.

“I…” you heard MJ cough loud enough that the quiet broke. She gave you a pointed looked and you read her easily. “Sure, I’m pretty tired.”

“Okay, cool,” Peter stumbled out of his chair, “let’s uh, let’s go?”

“Y-yeah.” You scooted away from the table and stood in an excited rush. You nearly would have forgotten about your jacket if MJ hadn’t held it out to you. With a silent ‘thank you’ you took it and trailed after Peter.

“Walk safely,” MJ shouted after you and Peter.

“We will,” Peter shouted back. You hurried to catch up with him at the gym doors. Like clock-work, he held open the door for you with a smile.

“Thanks,” you said softly as you passed into the hallway. Even with the school’s walls and heating system, the growing Winter cold breezed through poorly sealed windows.

“You’re welcome,” he said as he fell into step beside you. The steady footfalls of your shoes filled the air as you neared the school’s exit. It wasn’t entirely tense but there was something beneath the surface. Whatever it was, it was bubbling up and seeping through the cracks of the bandage you had covered old wounds with.

“You look handsome, by the way,” you said in the hopes of masking the nerves. “I hope that isn’t overstepping. I just wanted you to...know…”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Peter’s cheeks reddened, “you do to. I mean, pretty. You’re pretty, not handsome.” You laughed softly as Peter opened the door to the school. The cold wind hit your skin and you wished you had thought to bring a heavier coat.

“To be fair, ‘handsome’ was equivalent to saying ‘beautiful’ in the 1800s. It’s flattering,” you explained. Peter let out a breathy laugh but still quiet enough for you to be concerned. You lifted your gaze and saw him looking at you. “What?”

“Nothing, I-I just,” he raised his hands as you walked along the sidewalk. Under the streetlamps, Peter looked warm. “I missed you. It’s silly but…”

“You got used to having me around?” Peter’s brown eyes met your gaze and he nodded.

“Y-Yeah ...I did.” A new wave of quiet swirled around you. It followed the two of you as you walked down the block with too much space between you to be relaxed. Peter must have felt that something too. It wasn’t just you.

So it lingered between the two of you as your apartment complex came into sight. It formed a lump in your throat and choked your hope. Peter was so close, you were back to where you started with him; friends. So why did it hurt?

“Peter?” Your apartment was across the street and you couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping, or trying to sleep, with the worry in your heart. So you stopped walking at the crosswalk and hoped that Peter would too.

“Yeah? Ar-are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just sorry, Pete. I know I’ve said this before but I just feel like it needs to be said again.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. You’re okay,” Peter’s hands reached for yours that waved in the air wildly.

“But we...we’re not okay,” you sighed and tried not to get caught up on how soft his hands were on yours.

“We are,” Peter stressed. His brown eyes were wide and you frowned.

“Not like we used to be and I know why but…” you trailed off and let your hands fall to your sides. “I just have to get used to it and you just seem to have it all figured out.”

“I don’t,” Peter admitted with a smile, “not at all. I thought you did.” You let out a small giggle through a sniffle.

“Well, then we’re screwed huh?” Peters’ smile widened and he nodded.

“Hey,” Peter took a step towards you and you lifted your eyes to meet his. “It’s too cold to do this now. How about tomorrow we meet at the coffee shop? I mean, if I’m still your tutee.”

You let out a half-hearted laugh and nodded. “Of course, Pete.”

“Cool,” Peter breathed. He was very close now. So close you could feel the warmth of his body and all you wanted to do was hug him. Instead, you stepped back into the crosswalk.

“I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah, I’ll see yo-Y/N!”

All you heard was the screeching of wheel and the gross sense of deja vu. However, there were no headlights this time. A rush of air, it felt like falling again right off of the balcony of Willis Tower. Only it was cold then warm then cold again as Peter rushed towards you at a nearly inhuman speed. What was most alarming was the white string that shot out from his wrist.

One moment, he was at your side and the next you were up in the air. And you were screaming.

“Hold on, hold on!” Peter shouted over the wind but you struggled against him. How was he doing this? Was he flying? What was Peter, an alien?

All of the questions flew about your head, even as your feet hit the ground. Your heart was pounding and your legs shook with sick unease. You looked down at your dress and saw what looked like spider-webs clinging to the fabric. A trembling finger pulled at the web and it stuck to your skin.

“Are you okay? Y/N?” Peter’s brown eyes and soft features filled your vision. Concern was written in his furrowed brows and all you wanted to do was cry. His hands gripped at your arms and pulled you towards him. “Y/N?”

You met his gaze with wide eyes. Before you, you saw Peter. The boy you once hated; the boy you got to know; and the boy you cared for deeply. But something was different. It was as if you were seeing all of him for the first time. What was under Peter’s own mask.

“Peter….” you whispered, “what the fu-”

149 notes · View notes

you-andthebottlemen · 5 years

Text

56 - Request: SIDETRACK song fic

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Going against my better judgement, a verrryyyy drunk Evangeline is posting this at 4am....

I got home a couple days ago and life hasn’t been so kind to me. Aka I had ‘welcome home’ drinks with friends which turned into me crying over all the scary things going on for me right now and making everyone just watch catfish/van videos with me.....

You wouldn’t believe how many tries it took to type this without typos...anywayyyy please send me your thoughts and ENJOY!! And listen to past me below:

***************

Okay so I don’t think I’ve ever worked as hard or as long on a request before....I’m pretty proud of this one? I tried to draw both from the request and the lyrics and meld it all together. Ahhh I hope you all love it as much as I do!

Would honestly love some feedback on this one, so if you read it and love it or hate it or something in between, please feel free to drop me a message or an ask! I just want my writing to get better so I wanna know what works and what doesn’t etc. Just give me any and all thoughts :)

Based on this request:

A Sidetrack song fic where the reader is one of Van’s best friends (like a second Larry) and they’ve always been more than just mates... and they start to get somewhere but then Van gets the hots for another girl and he always has to visit when they tour by her house, but they fall out and the reader’s the god in the ‘if I try to talk to god and she’s forgot your name, you won’t get through’ lyric and Van realises that it’s the reader that he’s really wanted all along? [1/2] And it’s kind of angsty because the reader’s like ‘well why didn’t you have me when you had the chance’ and there’s really sad Van because he realises how dirty he did the reader but it ends with a big load of fluff? Is this a bad concept? Idk [2/2]

I hope this is everything you wanted anon, thank you sooo much for requesting <3

Also I hope you don’t mind that I wrote this from two POV’s! It seemed to make more sense to me to write a song fic from Van’s POV idk….

E x

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‘YOUR’ – reader’s POV:

Your roommates were away, you had no idea where Larry was and since Van would be late back from the studio, you felt a little lost at your own house party. It had grown way bigger than planned and you didn’t know half the people who’d shown up. You escaped to the kitchen, thinking it would be a refuge from the drunken house guests and their plus one’s. But alas, you were thrown into the deep end of drinking games. Somehow, you’d been convinced to play a round of Truth or Dare. You despised the game, well drinking games in general, but were tipsy enough already not to care. The music was loud in your ears and your whole body was buzzing.

So far you’d been lucky, relatively speaking. You pranked called your sister. You told the story of your most embarrassing sexual encounter. It was all pretty juvenile but that was okay. You just kept drinking your way through your six pack of canned ciders and enjoyed the feeling of slowly becoming intoxicated. Though through your drunken haze, you managed to spot a familiar black suede jacket and mop of sandy brown hair try and pass through the kitchen unnoticed.

“Vaaan!”

Van turned on his heels, his face lighting up when he saw you. He came over and leant on the wall beside where you were sat. You rested your head on him and he stroked your hair gently as a hello. Quickly you pulled away and introduced Van to anyone at the table he’d not already met.

“Gotten a bit mental here y/n,” he laughed, looking around him. You nodded and shrugged; not your problem right now.

“Come and play Van!” Ella interrupted, reaching out to hold his arm and batting her eyelashes at him flirtatiously.

Your stomach nauseated for a moment. She probably had a crush on him, quite a few your friends did. No one understood how you could simply be friends with Van and not head over heels in love with him. Though what people didn’t know, was that somewhere along the way you’d began to feel some very non-platonic feelings develop. This terrified you beyond belief. You were y/n and Van. Best mates. You’d seen the worst of each other and you’d seen the best, shared life experiences, grown together. You were the ‘female Larry’ apparently. You knew nothing else. And because of all this, you kept your feelings a secret, buried deep inside, too afraid of losing him.

“Nah, I was just gonna duck out for a smoke actually,” he replied, trying to worm his way out politely.

“Come on Van…I daaare you,” you replied, looking up at him mischievously.

You knew he wouldn’t be able to resist that glint in your eyes. Van took one of your cans and sat down beside you with a heavy eye roll.

Sure, maybe you and Van were a little closer than just friends at times with your cuddles or meaningless flirtations. Sometimes you even thought that just maybe, he felt the same things for you back. However, you were never sure and never confident enough to say anything. You just suffered in silence and pretended you didn’t feel whatever it was you felt.

Despite his strong dislike of drinking games, Van was actually enjoying himself. Everyone was laughing and goofing around, Van had a grin plastered to his face and you felt warm inside seeing him take part in some normality. It was good for him.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Van replied confidently then took a sip of his drink.

“Van, I dare you to kiss y/n,” one of the girls said, a sly smile on her face.

Your stomach dropped and your heart seized up in your chest. No way. You didn’t want your first, or only kiss, with Van to be because of a stupid, drunken dare. You began to panic and sweat lightly. With a gulp you glanced at Van. He had a dreamy little smile on his lips. You wanted to stop playing, to back out. Though you found yourself too nervous to speak.

Everyone else at the table looked utterly thrilled at the prospect of seeing you two kiss, except Ella who wore a tiny frown.

“Alright…” Van said quietly to himself then skulled the rest of his can. “Pucker up, babe,” he winked. You just stared at him blankly.

Before you could prepare for or even think about what was happening, Van moved in and held a hand to your jaw then pressed his soft, cider flavoured lips to yours. You swore your heart stopped. After a second of shock induced stillness, you kissed him back. Hard. You heard people cheer and whistle but all you could think about was how Van’s lips were warm and his faced seemed to fit perfectly together with yours and how his hand felt cupping your cheek.

When you both pulled back for air, you met his swimming blue eyes for a moment, and both just stared into each other. It was a proper kiss, not just a peck and you didn’t know what to make of it. Van sat back into his chair and laughed as he hung an arm around the back of your chair casually. You couldn’t wrap your head around what’d just happened; you were too drunk and too dizzied by your feelings and rapid heart rate. You sat back quietly and took another gulp of cider from your half empty can, then forced a smile onto your dazed face. The rest of the game played out like a dream; you couldn’t focus and things felt blurry. Your mind was stuck on the fact that you’d just kissed Van, your best friend and it was a big fucking deal for you. Was it a big deal for him too?

Eventually you sipped water and sat out of the final rounds under the pretence you were feeling dizzy; not exactly a lie. You watched as Van completed dare after dare and listened to the occasional truth he’d have to spill. When your mate from work, Todd suggested another game, you pulled a face. Van took your hand in his under the table and without a fight, you let him lead you away out of the kitchen.

In the living room you spotted Larry playing cards on the sofa around the coffee table, wedged between the arm rest and a couple making out. Nice. Van picked up a bottle of wine from the coffee table, careful not to disturb the game. You looked at all the chaos around you; people hooking up, dancing, talking, taking photos. Some poor chap on the floor. Van placed a hand on the small of your back.

“Wanna get outta here?”

“Yes please.”

You and Van slipped away from the heart of the party and disappeared to your room. You collapsed back onto your bed with your eyes shut. Even though you were still, the alcohol in your blood made you feel as though you were actually on a boat rocking side to side.

Van shed his jacket then fiddled around with your record player but gave up when he realised the music from the living room would drown out anything he put on. He sat beside you on the bed and opened the bottle he’d brought. You sat up and he held it out to you. You took a swig then passed it back. You took it in turns with the bottle while making pointless, drunk chatter under the yellow glow of your fairy lights. All the while, the thought of kissing Van played on your mind.

When you’d had enough wine, you fell onto your back again and stared up at the ceiling. Van put the bottle on the floor then lay down, his shoulder pressed to yours. You were close enough to smell his cologne and hear his breath. You shut your eyes and Van let out a contented sigh.

“Some dare huh…” you said nervously, but your tone light-hearted.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. Van moved to lay on his side and face you, his head propped up with his arm. “You’re a good kisser,” he added.

You fluttered your eyes open and gazed up at him. He was really close now and your chest tightened once again. You didn’t know how to reply but you were sure the hot pink blush on your cheeks said it all. Van’s eyes were sparkling in the dim light, his eyelashes casting small shadows onto his cheeks. You looked at the seas of freckles dotted around his face, his gingery stubble, the shape of his pink lips. Quite simply, he looked beautiful. Van was staring at you too and he seemed to notice your eyes on his lips. The tension in the air was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. This was brand new territory for you both.

“Van I- “

Before you could finish your sentence, Van swooped in and kissed you, again. Your eyes widened in shock for a moment then you melted into the kiss. You grabbed his hair urgently in your hands and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you as close as he could. You didn’t realise how desperate you were for this moment until you were thrown into it. You found your rhythm together and things heated up quickly. Van slipped a warm hand under your shirt, running his fingers lightly across your skin, making you shiver. You pulled away slightly and looked at him. Both of you breathed heavily.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice a low whisper.

You nodded and moved your hands slowly to his belt, keeping your eyes locked on his. They were still sparkling but now full of lust; it drove you mad to see him look at you that way.

“It’s not weird?” you asked.

“Not weird,” he breathed with eyes half shut, and impatiently kissed you again.

You managed to undo Van’s belt and he ripped it away, your shirt close behind. Somehow you both shed the rest of your clothing and you hardly had a moment to think about the fact you were naked in front of Van for the first time; utterly vulnerable. You were too intoxicated by both alcohol and him to care. Van pulled you beneath the sheets, skin on skin and all thoughts of the party outside or drinking games or friendship, left your minds.

……………………………..

You thought things with Van had started to get somewhere after you’d drunkenly slept together for the first time. The sex was messy, but it was intense and felt right. Furthermore, it stirred those feelings in you that you couldn’t ignore any longer. You thought maybe he reciprocated whatever it was that you had begun to feel for him. It had felt like more than just sex between friends. But it seemed you were wrong. It wasn’t too awkward at first but after a little while, Van seemed distant and distracted. Soon enough, he was off on tour again and things became even more complicated.

You spoke on the phone or facetime every so often, but it was different. This was the first time you and Van had been on the outs and it was killing you. You’d spoken to Larry briefly; all he’d said was that Van probably had the hots for some girl and his head wasn’t straight because of it, not to take it personally. But you were taking it personally and for the first time, you’d hoped that girl was you. That perhaps his behaviour was because he was struggling to come to terms with his feelings for you too.

Weeks went by and after a long period of deliberation, you decided to take the plunge and tell Van how you felt. When tour was done and he was home, you managed to get Van to commit to coming over for a drink. You heard his knock on the door, you let him in saying a shaky hello. He kissed you on the cheek and asked how you’d been. It all felt forced. Once the pleasantries were done, you decided to bite the bullet.

“Van, I know things with us have been…off lately. But I think I need to tell you…” you began, folding your hands into your lap nervously.

Van placed his drink down on the table and looked at you, his expression unreadable. You squeezed your eyes shut and exhaled before looking him dead in the eye and letting your heart spill from your mouth.

“I have feelings for you. I tried to ignore it but ever since that one night at the party I just… can’t keep pretending.”

The bombshell was dropped. It felt equally like a weight had been lifted and like you’d just made the worst decision of all time. Van sat up and ran his hands through his hair. Your heart began to pound and you felt a little faint. You couldn’t believe what you’d said, or the implications of such words. Van opened his mouth and for a moment, you thought he might just confess his feelings as well.

“Look, y/n. I…I’ve met someone.”

You blinked slowly and shook your head in disbelief. That was the last thing you expected him to respond with.

“What?”

“I knew it was a mistake for us to sleep together,” he muttered and your heart broke. “It’s messed everything up.” He looked away from you and bit his lip.

“Van, you kissed me first?! You led me on.”

You felt angry now and you fought to hold back tears.

“I was drunk y/n…. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

“So this girl then, that’s why you’ve been so distant from me?”

“Partly, I guess. I don’t know...” Van looked down again; he knew he was being a dick.

You scoffed angrily and wiped your watery eyes. It was your own fault for reading so much into it. It was just one instance of drunken sex between friends, nothing more, clearly. You’d been wrong to cling onto any shred of hope that it had been significant. You should never have said anything.

“So, you don’t feel anything for me at all?” you asked bluntly.

“You’re my best mate…” he replied quietly.

You nodded and turned away, that was all the answer you needed. You felt devasted and it made your chest burn. Not only had you been rejected, you’d probably lost your best friend. You couldn’t shake the anger you felt towards Van for taking you to your room, kissing you, initiating things. Though how was he to know that to you, it would all mean so much more? You sighed sadly, letting the pain flood your body and slowly replace the anger. You didn’t expect him to drop everything and just be with you. But you didn’t think the conversation would go like this…

“But that’s my point… we are best mates. I know you like no one else,” you said slowly, trying to let the anger go. “Van, I should be everything you want…”

………………………………

Van’s POV

“But that’s my point… we are best mates. I know you like no one else. Van, I should be everything you want…”

I didn’t know what to say or what to do. I was frozen. Y/n was my best mate apart from Larry. Yeah, we’d had the one night of drunk sex that had made things weird. But I didn’t know she had feelings? That freaked me the fuck out. I’d never have kissed her for that dare if I’d known…I wouldn’t have led her on this way.

Her words, ‘I should be everything you want’ rang through my brain and did my head in.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated, like an absolute mug. I was standing there breaking her heart and had nothin’ to say. Christ.

I felt annoyed she’d not said anything sooner about how she felt. And annoyed at myself for having missed it all this time. Y/n let her head fall into her hands and she sniffed, holding back tears. I reached out to put a hand on her arm but she sat bolt upright and ducked away from my touch. Her eyes were all red and glassy.

“You should go Van, forget I said anything.”

“Y/n…”

“Just go Van, go back to your girl.”

Her voice was sharp and hit me like a slap in the face. Y/n stood and motioned towards the door. I was feeling frustrated, mad at the fact she’d thrown all these feelings at me and was upset she wasn’t getting the same feelings from me back.

“Fuck this. See you,” I said, my voice flat and pissed off.

I left without another word, not really sure of what the fuck just happened. I knew I was in the wrong; I could have handled this better. Talk to her sooner, tell her I’d met someone sooner. But how was I to know she had feelings for me? Besides, she didn’t exactly seem willing to talk it out. Guess I’d not given that impression either. I didn’t wanna stick around and fight about it.

Once I was outside her front gate, I let out a heavy, frustrated sigh and raised my arms so I could fold them behind my head to breathe. My mind was racing a million miles an hour and I was full of feelings I didn’t know what to do with. If I was being honest, the fact I’d met someone wasn’t the whole reason I’d been off with y/n. It was just weird after the party, awkward and I didn’t know how to act.

Ironically, the person I would talk with about what to do in this situation would be y/n. But obviously that wasn’t going to happen. I contemplated calling Larry, but he was on a night out and didn’t need the bother.

As I walked down y/n’s street to head home, I flicked through my contacts. Zina. The girl I’d met on tour, the one I’d mentioned to y/n. I couldn’t talk to her about all this, but I could talk to her. Distract myself. I checked the time in her part of the world then pushed call. I spent the rest of the walk home talking and laughing with Zina, letting the situation with y/n get flooded out of my head completely.

………………

I was used to the ‘long distance’ sort of thing by now; I was hardly ever in the same place as my friends, family, whoever I was dating. It was always hard, but it was a lifestyle you got used to, especially when the perk of it is getting to travel the world and play music. Me and Zina had hit things off in America when we last toured. She even came out to visit me back in England once. She was incredible. Me and her just bounced off each other immediately, like we’d known each other for ages. Plus, she was dead gorgeous.

I was back in America, staying at hers for a while before a press run started. I was sat on her couch, legs stretched out on the coffee table and scrolling through my phone aimlessly. I decided to log onto Instagram for the first time in what, 6 months? A year? Don’t know. I scrolled down the feed and saw a post by y/n.

My heart dropped into my stomach. I’d not seen her or spoken to her since that night at her house. We’d never not talked for this long before. Were we even still mates? Usually when I’d fall out with someone, I’d just let things go their separate ways. You go your way and I’ll go mine, you know? And that’s sort of what I’d done here too; neither of us had reached out to one another.

Y/n was smiling wide, her arms wrapped around someone I didn’t know. She looked happy but it stung and I couldn’t tell you why. Quietly, Zina sat down beside me. I quickly switched my phone off and put it down.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, handing me a cup of tea and eyeing the phone I’d slid away.

“Nothin’ babe,” I smiled and leant over to kiss her.

She kissed me back but seemed off, kind of hesitant.

“Why were you looking at that photo of y/n?”

Zina and me had been together a few months now, so I’d told her in short what happened between me and y/n. Her feelings, my lack of, now the no contact.

“I wasn’t, it just came up on Instagram or whatever,” I replied, sighing and rubbing my face with my empty hand.

“Okay…”

I sipped my tea and tucked Zina up beside me. She curled her feet under her and rested her head on my shoulder. We sat in silence for a while just letting the sun from her large glass windows hit us and soak in.

“Do you ever wish things with her had been different?” she asked.

“What? I mean yeah, I don’t like that she’s suddenly gone from my life. Aside from Larry she was my best pal.”

“I mean, do you wish you had tried things with her? Been with her?”

Being thrown this idea of an alternative option threw me off. I’d not considered it all. It was like if someone had suggested I’d date Larry. She was my best friend. She’d always been on one side of the spectrum, off limits. I’d never seen her as anything but what she always was to me.

But then again….I had slept with her that time so I guess it wasn’t the same after all. Maybe subconsciously I had seen her in a different light and so I crossed that boundary with her. Thinking about lines and boundaries made my head spin. The possibility of being in a relationship with y/n genuinely had not crossed my mind, not even when she confessed her feelings to me. It was one that made me feel an overwhelming sense of confusion. It was too much to take apart in my head so I simply pushed it away. She was my friend, like Larry.

“No. Where’s this comin’ from babe?” I asked, looking down at Zina.

She shrugged and looked away. The vibe between us felt weird now, like she was upset about something I couldn’t see. I let out a breath. Girls, Christ.

…………………

“Van, I can’t do this. I can’t be with you while clearly, you’re in love with someone else.”

Zina wiped tears from her eyes and sniffed, avoiding my gaze. My bags were packed by the door, waiting for me to pick them up and run to the taxi to get to the airport with boys. Tour was starting up again. But that could wait right now.

“What? I’m not in love with someone else,” I pleaded, pain and confusion ripping right through me. I moved closer and took her shoulders in my hands. “Please don’t do this, I love you. No one else,” I said softly.

“Stop…please. You know I love you too, but I don’t want this anymore.”

Zina pushed my hands off her and wrapped her arms around herself. Tears leaked down her cheeks and she took a step back. I felt my own eyes start to prickle.

“I don’t fuckin’ understand what you’re sayin’ Zina. Things were good with us? Are good with us. Who am I supposedly in love with?”

“Y/n.” She said bluntly. My eyes bulged and frustration bubbled up inside.

“Fuck’s sake no I’m not. How many times do we have to go through this? She was my friend. Like Larry.”

Zina rolled her eyes angrily.

“Van. You always talk about her with the guys, asking what she’s up to. You write songs about her still, I know you do. She’s always on your mind and you miss her, I get it. But I think if you stop and look a little harder, you’ll see why. You’re in love with her and you don’t even know it,” she let it all spill out of her. I stood in stunned silence at the words being thrown at me.

“It’s not your fault but I can’t keep feeling like I’m second best or just a place holder…” she sniffed, her eyes still running like taps. I wanted to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but I knew she wouldn’t let me.

“You’re not, I swear. Don’t do this,” I begged.

“I just can’t be with you anymore Van. I love you but I can’t.”

Fuck this. I moved closer and grabbed her face in my hands and kissed her. She kissed me back weakly. I could feel her tears melt onto my skin. When I pulled back, hands still on her jaw, I stared at her, thinking maybe she would change her mind. Instead all I got was silence and could see heartbreak written all over face. My hands dropped to my side in shock and defeat. I couldn’t believe it. It was really over, and I didn’t get a say.

“I’m sorry,” I said to her, feeling completely floored and not able to piece anything better together.

“Just please, make it worth it,” she replied and my face scrunched up in confusion. “Fix things with y/n.”

After a final embrace and goodbye despite my protests, I picked up my bags and left. Zina closed the door behind me and I wondered if I’d ever see her again. The taxi van pulled up shortly after and I got in without a word. I was speechless.

“You alright mate?” Larry asked.

“Yeah,” I grunted and looked out the window.

Zina was right, it wasn’t my fault. It was y/n’s. In my mind it made sense to shift the blame to her. I wasn’t in love with her. Zina had left me for no reason.

Days passed and I’d finally told Larry what happened. He kept me stocked up on smokes and whatever else to get me through. I vented my frustration on stage, thrashing about and yelling…and that helped. But I was still in bits about it. I’d lost my best friend and my girlfriend all in a matter of months and the common denominator was me. I was mad at y/n still but equally as mad at myself.

“You need to speak to y/n…just call her,” Larry said finally, fed up to the back teeth with my stroppy moods.

“She won’t wanna hear about my break up mate,” I replied, dismissing the idea. “Plus I don’t know that I really wanna talk to her anyway…”

“She cares about you Van, as much as I do. Give her some credit…”

I sighed and threw the PlayStation controller down beside me. I tipped my head back onto the couch and groaned. Larry paused the game. I rolled my head round to look at him.

“Should I really call her?”

“You gotta try and fix things man. It’s driving us all mad.”

That night after the show, I stayed back in the green room and called y/n. My palms were sweating and I had no idea what I was going to say to her, or where to even begin.

Turns out that didn’t matter; she didn’t pick up. Typical. I turned my phone off and headed outside for a smoke. I stood leaning against the wall breathing the smoke in and out slowly, contemplating everything that’d happened until the ciggie was done. When I got back on the bus Larry threw me an expecting look. I just shook my head and said nothing on the subject.

…………………

I kept trying to call y/n, but I never got through. At first I thought maybe she was just busy but quickly I realised she was ducking my calls. A move I knew well. I texted, even sent one of them Instagram messages but got nothing back. It was driving me up the wall. The anger I felt towards her started to fade away and it was replaced with a sort of panic. I’d well and truly fucked this up.

The rest of the tour dragged by slowly. All I could think of was y/n; it was like a switch had flipped in my head. I spent my days wondering what she was doing, who with. My nights were spent thinking about how things could have been different. I missed her.

In my many hours of contemplation and the many packets of ciggies I went through, it began to dawn on me that y/n was sort of…everything. She gave me direction, kept me grounded, was my voice of reason. She was like god, I looked to her for it all. She had always been there no matter what. And now she was just gone; she may as well have forgotten my name at this point.

When tour finally came to an end, I’d never been more anxious to get home. I needed to get my life back, get y/n back. The whole flight I was jittery and bouncing my leg; annoying Larry and Bondy to no end. When the plane landed, I darted off so quickly the boys lost track of me. As I raced through customs and baggage and all that, I couldn’t help but think of how y/n would always be there to meet me, holding up a card that said ‘McCann’. But this time she wasn’t.

Once I was in the back of a taxi and had given y/n’s address, I phoned her but as usual ignored and straight to voicemail. God, she had the will power of an ox. I texted saying I was home, that I needed to see her. After a few minutes, to my utter fuckin’ surprise, I saw the little text bubble pop up for a second and a response came through. I held my breath.

‘I’m going out’

‘Will you wait for me?’

‘Fine.”

I let out a shaky exhale of relief and put my phone away.

“Mate, do you reckon we can get there ASAP?” I asked the driver, trying to keep my voice normal; he didn’t know how much was on the line for me right now.

“There’s traffic so we’ll have to take the bridge,” he replied.

I thanked him and sat back, staring out the window as we drove. I thought about the night I’d last seen y/n. She’d confessed her feelings and I didn’t listen, didn’t give her a chance, didn’t try to salvage the friendship or even tell her it was okay. I panicked and responded badly. I pushed her away and did her real dirty. I was embarrassed with myself honestly. I could fix it though, I had to. She meant the absolute world to me.

I loved her. I love her.

My heart stopped for a second at the sudden realisation. Zina was right. My daft fuckin’ brain had only just made the connection. I was in love with y/n. I smiled and chuckled to myself as the feelings escaped my heart and spread through my body like wildfire. Bloody hell.

We should have been at y/n’s by now, but we weren’t. I was on the verge of just jumping out the car and running there.

“We’ve taken the quickest route,” the driver insisted.

I wasn’t convinced. We were stuck in traffic and moving dead slow. I thought about y/n waiting for me, probably pissed off at me for taking so long on top of everything else.

“Okay 5, five minutes,” the driver said eventually, looking at me in the rear-view mirror. He could probably tell how impatient I was getting.

When we drove up y/n’s street I was sure I was going to have a heart attack. I’d never been like this over a girl before. But to be fair, it wasn’t just any girl. It was y/n, my best friend. My absolute fucking goddess.

I paid the driver and grabbed my bags. As I walked up her drive, y/n’s words ‘I should be everything you want’ came back to mind. She was everything I wanted and needed and I’d been too blind to see it before now.

………………………

‘Your’ POV

Van crashed through your front door, dropping his bags to the ground in the hallway. He almost went to hug you, but you took a step back. He seemed breathless and his face fell when you moved away from him.

“Y/n…” he said.

The sound of his voice made you feel weak; you’d missed him beyond anything. The last few months had been torture, with ignoring Van and trying to forget your feelings. Though despite everything they only grew stronger. But you swallowed the tears and remembered why you were in this situation to begin with.

“Why did you need to see me?” you asked bluntly.

“Can we sit?”

“Come into the kitchen.”

You didn’t want Van getting comfortable, it would be too easy to just let him back in and fall back under his spell. Standing either side of the kitchen counter opposite each other, you both waited for the other to speak first.

“Thank you for waitin’,” Van said and you shrugged.

Your curiosity had gotten the better of you. You’d been able to ignore Van’s calls and messages while he was away, just. But when he said he was home…you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your heart ached for him as much as you wished it didn’t. You missed your best friend, in fact, you were completely in love with him.

You raked your eyes over Van. He’d not changed physically but he looked like he’d been through hell. His eyes had soft bags under them, his hair was greasy and his eyes looked wild. You wondered what had been going on for him the last few months. You knew he’d been seeing someone but anything beyond that you had no clue as you’d avoided the rest of the boys almost as fiercely as you’d avoided Van, not wanting any reminder of it all.

“Y/n…I’m sorry, I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

You looked at Van with stone cold eyes.

“Me and Zina broke up and-“

“Oh, so because you’re all alone now you come crawling back to me?” you snapped.

The nerve he had. You felt taken for granted as a friend, your feelings for him aside.

“No, shit….no. It just made me realise that I’d made a mistake. I need you y/n.”

You heart pounded at his words. Part of you felt outrageously angry and other part felt like you could break down into tears at any moment and just throw yourself into his arms. You shut your eyes and exhaled to calm yourself.

“You said we’d messed everything up. You shut me down and I don’t know…we fell out. I don’t know if this can be fixed. I can’t just forget all that because you ‘need me’ again.”

Van walked over to your side of the counter and stood in front of you. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. You could tell he was genuinely sorry and that he’d felt all the backlash he needed without you pushing him away further. But you just couldn’t see how things could ever go back to the way they were.

“Please y/n”.

“Van, I never expected you to drop everything and be with me. I just needed to tell you how I felt and work through it. You’re my best friend, I needed you to be there for me. You just immediately told me you’d met someone? Besides, you led me on, but that doesn’t matter. You showed me your true colours and it fucking hurt.”

You let the honest truth come out, he needed to hear it. You’d had plenty of time to reflect on how you felt about it all and it felt good to finally get it off your chest. Van looked distraught.

“Trust me if I’d known you had feelings for me, I never would have done that stupid dare…never would have slept with you…There’s so many things I should have said and done different. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t change it now but please let me fix it?” His voice was quiet and whiny, broken in a way you’d never heard. He was being sincere.

You kept silent and looked away, no idea what to do or say. You knew he wasn’t at fault for some of it, he wasn’t to know how you felt. You should have been honest with him before it all led to that night. But you couldn’t shake the resentment you felt towards him for all that followed. Van seemed to take the silence as a rejection and pushed his hair back like he did when he was stressed or nervous.

“Y/n… I love you. Okay? I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes bulged and your jaw dropped in absolute bewilderment.

“What?!” you all but shouted.

“It’s you, I want you. I think I have all along,” he replied quietly, not blinking.

“Are you joking?”

Van’s facial expression melded into one of confusion.

“Well why didn’t you have me when you had the chance?” you asked.

“I didn’t know I felt this way back then and look I’m here now, as soon as I could get here to tell you,” he reasoned.

Van dropped to his knees in front of you and gently took your hands in his. His touch made your skin light up. He looked sad and desperate. The tears had begun to seep out of your eyes and you couldn’t wipe them away so they trickled down your cheeks uncomfortably.

“You have to believe me y/n. I love you and I will make it up to you. You’re my best friend.”

Your gut wrenched. Van was begging you. Seeing him like this only made your heart scream at you louder. You melted down to your knees in front of him and took his face in your hands. Fuck it.

“I love you too, Van.”

His eyes lit up and his mouth opened slightly.

“You do?”

“Of course, you idiot,” you sniffed and chuckled through the tears.

Van pulled you into him and you threw your arms around his neck. You held each other tightly for a long while, collapsed on the floor and folded together. You cried into his neck and he rubbed your back, letting you get it all out. It felt so good to be back in his arms and have the weight of missing him lifted from your shoulders. You didn’t want to let him go; it felt like he was holding all your broken bits together.

As you untangled yourself from him and wiped your face, Van stared at you. He reached out and gently moved the sweaty, tear stained strands of hair from your forehead. Your eyes latched onto his and you were overwhelmed with love. It was almost all too much to believe.

When Van finally kissed you, it felt like all the hurt and all the shit that had happened between you dissipated. It was you and him, together again and as unbreakable as ever.

…………………………………

“Oi, move over,” you grumbled at Van.

He was spread out in your bed like a starfish, taking up all the space.

“Nope,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t contain the smile. Van looked so cute; his hair messy from drying overnight and all bundled up in your duvet. After you placed the fresh mugs of tea down on your bedside table you wiggled in to fit beside him. Once you were under the covers, Van snaked his arms around your middle and pulled you tight against his naked body. Your head was against his chest and you kissed his collarbones.

“Bed day today?” he asked as he crept his hands under your shirt, his voice low and sleepy.

“I’d love that,” you replied happily.

Life in love with your best friend was amazing. Things had slowly been patched up between you and Van, you’d been able to bridge the gap between best friends and relationship well. You still teased each other as much as ever, still had each other’s backs. Only now you got to kiss, have sex and say I love you also; it was perfect.

After a few hours of on and off napping, making out and watching youtube videos in bed, it was time to get up and get ready for your friends to come around. Van sat smoking out of your open window and watched as you put on your makeup, genuinely interested in how it all worked. He was so cute like that.

Larry arrived early to help with the barbeque. He and Van smoked on the patio while it heated up, talking about whatever it was they talked about when you weren’t around. Maybe even you? You watched from the kitchen window as they laughed and bickered between themselves. You’d all come so far since being the spotty, unruly teenagers you were when you’d first met. You never would have guessed you’d end up with Van at all. You weren’t sure if your seventeen-year-old self would be impressed or grossed out by it.

When they gave you the signal it was ready, you carried out the food to be cooked. Once you placed it down, Van slung his arm around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss.

“I’m never gonna get used to this,” Larry laughed looking between you two.

“Me either,” you and Van said at the same time. You burst out laughing and kissed again, giddy with love for one another.

After dinner, once the music had been turned up and the bottles of spirits brought out, everyone sat around in the living room.

“We should play a drinking game…” Todd proposed, and you rolled your eyes. Some things never changed.

“Yeah. How about Truth or Dare?” Van suggested smugly, his eyes meeting yours.

“No need. You can just kiss me now, don’t need a dare to do it,” you grinned and grabbed Van by the chin before planting a heavy kiss on his lips.

Maybe drinking games weren’t so bad after all?

#Catfish and the Bottlemen #catfish and the bottlemen fanfiction #van #catb #van mccann #van mccann fanfiction #catfish and the bottlemen song fic #van mccann fan fiction #larry lau

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twdeadfanfic · 6 years

Text

Life at the end of the world Pt.14

Summary: Your life as a zombie apocalypse survivor. It starts with the Reader settling into the camp at the quarry, before s1 and then follows the show events and storyline, more or less, but with the Reader in it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Slow burn, violence, language.

Author’s note: I’ve been itching to write a fic like this for a long while and I write it for fun, I don’t claim to be a writer so if you find you dislike this fic, please be kind and just stop reading. English’s not my first language so maybe there’re some mistakes, I apologize in advance. For the same reason, I can’t write character’s accents and things like that. At any rate, I hope you enjoy it. There’d be several parts to this.

NA: Apologyes because this chapter is shorter than any other...but I really enjoyed writing it.

You were tossing around restlessly in your bed, unable to sleep, the emotions of the day catching up with you. Everything had happened so fast you barely had had any time to process it. After your first break down, you really hadn’t had the time to let yourself feel your emotions. And now you just felt numb.

You wrapped yourself more tightly in your blanket, even though the chill that you felt running down your spine had nothing to do with the cold. Everything around you was silent, the cell next to yours empty now that Carol and Lori weren’t there, and you were almost grateful when a baby’s cry broke the silence that had settled heavy into your heart.

You got up and walked to Carl’s cell, itching to do something that wasn’t being alone in the silence with your own troubling thoughts.

Carl was holding his baby sister, cradling her carefully and trying to shush her while Beth made a bottle. It seemed she had taken upon herself the duty of caring for the newborn and you admired her, she was almost a kid herself. But she had always been sweet and kind and she seemed to be a natural for this. You had been so terrified even of just holding the baby, sure you were going to do something wrong. But Beth cared for her almost effortlessly.

“Do you need help?” You asked, walking into the cell and standing there awkwardly, not sure of what to do.

“No, it’s okay, we got this.” Beth gave you a kind smile as she turned around, bottle already finished. She gestured to Carl to pass her the baby but Carl reached out, took the bottle and began feeding her sister himself. Taking a chair, Beth sat down next to them, staring at the baby adoringly as she drank.

You stood there for a moment, looking at them, feeling out of place and kind of useless. “Okay then..., just let me know if you need something.”

They both nodded at you and you left the cell, reluctant to go back to your own. Your gaze went to the perch in which Daryl had decided to sleep and you saw he wasn’t sleeping either. He was sitting down, arms hugging his knees, looking down. His face was hidden in the shadows but he looked totally miserable. You knew how deeply he cared for Carol and you knew how he must be feeling.

You doubted for a moment but then made your way towards him. Daryl looked up for a second when he heard your footsteps approaching but he quickly looked away, rubbing his eyes roughly.

“You need something?” He asked, still not looking at you.

“Just couldn’t sleep...” You murmured, and Daryl looked at you, making a sound of agreement before hiding his face from you again.

You sat down next to him, mirroring his posture, and neither of you said anything for a moment.

“Is the Lil ass-kicker okay?” Daryl asked hoarsely “Heard her crying.”

“Yeah, she’s fine. Just hungry. Beth and Carl are feeding her now.” You found yourself smiling. “I don’t know how you three do it. I can barely hold her right and you care for her like you have been doing it forever. You are just naturals.”

Daryl scoffed and nudged your knee with his, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. You stood to your words, the image of him holding baby Grimes, coddling her and feeding the newborn her first bottle warming your heart.

Silence fell between you again, the only sounds you could hear were the soft whispers of Beth as she talked with the baby and soon those stopped too and the whole prison seemed to sleep. You wondered where Rick was and what was he doing, and while you understood him, it still was irresponsible to leave his kids alone in such a moment. And he hadn’t even asked for his newborn...

“You think Rick’s gonna be okay?” You asked when you couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “He seems...he doesn’t seem...I don’t know.” You deflated.

Daryl shrugged but nodded. “He’ll be...eventually.”

“It’s just...it doesn’t feel real to me...” You ventured. Daryl looked at you for a second but said nothing, so you kept talking. You didn’t want to deal with the silence anymore. “I mean... we don’t even have their bodies...” You were talking about Carol especially, but saying her name felt like too much. Felt like you were making it real, felt like she was really gone and no, no, you couldn’t. “So it’s like...my brain can’t believe it. It hasn’t happened. I don’t want to believe it.” Your last sentence came out as a whimper and you regretted bringing up the subject.

You took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on yourself so you wouldn’t become a useless sobbing mess. You wanted to be strong. You waited for Daryl to say something but he didn’t and when you looked at him your heart broke. He was hugging his knees again, hiding his face, and his shoulders were shaking.

You acted out of impulse, wanting to comfort him somehow, to make him stop hurting, and maybe get a bit of comfort yourself, as you shifted until you could curl yourself against his back, arms wrapping around his shoulders to hold him close.

Daryl stiffed immediately and you were sure he was going to push you away but he didn’t, eventually relaxing and letting you snuggle against him, closing your eyes tight to stop your own tears from falling.

“We were supposed to be safe here...” He whimpered after a moment, his words muffled as he keeps his face hidden on his knees.

You sniffed, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, unable to stop your tears. He was right, you were supposed to be safe here. After everything you had gone through during the winter, hiding and running away from place to place, the dead chasing you everywhere, the prison was supposed to be a safe haven.

And now Lori was gone, T-Dog was gone, and the woman who had so quickly become one of your best friends was gone. Three members of your family brutally gone in a place where you had felt safer than you had ever felt in this madness of a world. It just didn’t feel right. It wasn’t fair.

You almost felt startled by the mad rage you felt against that man, that prisoner who had almost but threw the walkers at you in his revenge, and you were glad he was dead. You had never wanted someone to die, never felt glad about someone’s death, but you were now. Neither had you ever felt like you could kill someone, but if the man weren’t dead already, you felt you could just shot him on sight.

Maybe Shane had been right. Maybe this new world made you dark and you had to do things you never thought you would in order to survive.

You stayed there curled up with Daryl for a long while, until you felt you had cried yourself dry, although the heartbreak and the guilt wouldn’t go away. Slowly, you pulled away from him. He averted your eyes, cheeks blushed. He had come a long way since the Daryl you had first meet at the quarry, but you knew he was still embarrassed whenever he openly showed his emotions.

You let him hide from you, knowing that he was shy a needed it, but reached out your hand tentatively, smiling when he held it, lacing his fingers with yours, making your heart beat fast.

You stayed silent for a moment but then decided to confess him your thoughts, the guilt that was eating you.

“I feel like I should have done something...I should have stayed with her and T-Dog, should have helped them...” You whispered. “But I hid with Hershel and Beth behind the fences...”

“You had to help Beth and Hershel too.” Daryl comforted you quietly but you shook your head.

“No...as soon as they were safe in the cellblock I should have run to T-Dog and Carol, I should have done something, followed them...” You squeezed your eyes close, trying not to cry again. “I could have helped them, maybe I could have prevented T-Dog from being bite...I could have been with Carol, help her so she wouldn’t, so she...but I did nothing...”

“Ey,” Daryl pulled at your hand, squeezing it until you looked at him. “It ain’t your fault.”

You shrugged, looking away, losing the battle against tears.

“It ain’t.”

You knew the convict was the ultimate responsible, that it was his fault, sure, but that didn’t mean you didn’t feel guilty and useless, you should have fought harder... But Daryl’s words made you feel a bit better, he always made you feel better, with his constant comfort and support.

You gave him a tight smile, nodding your head weakly. “Thanks...”

After a short while, Daryl gave your hand a last squeeze before letting it go and getting up. “I’m gonna keep watch, go get some sleep Y/N.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” You asked getting up too.

“Nah.” He shook his head and you didn’t pressure him, understanding he needed time alone.

You nodded and headed to your cell. You were sure you weren’t going to be able to sleep but you were so exhausted you fell asleep as soon as your head touched the pillow.

***

Next time you caught sight of Daryl you were having breakfast with Maggie, sitting down on a picnic table in the porch, enjoying the fresh morning air. You were nibbling on some dry, hard biscuits that expired a couple months ago, but biscuits were a luxury neither of you was used to anymore.

“If only we had some milk to soften them in it or something.” You said as you munched.

“I can get you some baby formula if you want.” Maggie joked with a tired smile, trying to make you smile.

You knew Maggie had gone through a lot, you knew she was traumatized by what she’d had to do, even if she tried to put on a brave face. You didn’t know how she was able to do so and you admired her for it. The dark circles under her eyes told you she didn’t get much sleep last night either.

“You feeling any better?” You asked softly, squeezing her hand.

For a moment it seemed she was going to try to pretend everything was fine but then she was shaking her head and looking down.

“I can’t get the image of her out of my mind...I didn’t want to do it but she asked and asked...And then Carl...” Her eyes watered and you pulled her into a tight embrace.

Your family had gone through so much in just a day...

You both watched in silence as Daryl seemingly appeared out of nowhere, far away from you, and walked towards the graves Glenn had dug, stopping in front of Carol’s for a moment and dropping something on it. You let out a sigh as pain clutched your heart again.

“He’s holding up okay?” Maggie asked, eyeing him with concern.

“As okay as any of us.” You shrugged and Maggie wrapped an arm around your shoulder, squeezing you to her side.

You smiled at her grateful. No matter how hard she might be having it herself, she always tried to comfort other people and she was always there for you.

Daryl made his way back to the building and you called to him as he passed nearby, reaching out to give him a couple of biscuits that he took with a nod of thanks.

“No sight of Rick still?” He asked.

“Not since my father tried talking with him. He thinks it might be better to leave him alone for a while...” Maggie tailed off.

Daryl just hummed and you could sense he was feeling a bit lost without him there. Since the farm, you had seen him looking up to Rick and following his lead, the sheriff leaning more and more on him for help on return. You knew they had got close and you were glad Daryl had someone like Rick for him now that Merle was gone. Someone who actually treated him right and valued him.

“I’m going to try and clear some of the lower levels later, see if there’s any other threat.” He said. “Any of you wanna come?”

“I’m going with Glenn to see if we can find more formula and stuff for the baby,” Maggie replied through a yawn.

“I’ll go!” You were glad Daryl asked, you couldn’t wait to feel useful again.

In the end, you took one of the prisoners with you too, Oscar. You were not sure you trusted him, but he didn’t seem to be one of the bad ones and at the very least he was alive and willing to help.

Carl went with you too and you felt uneasy about it. No matter how skilled he had become at killing the dead, he was still a kid, he had gone through hell and back, and you worried about him. But he had insisted and Daryl had said nothing about it, so you shrugged it off.

There wasn’t that much to clear, most of the geeks were dead, for real this time, and you didn’t seem to find any danger. Halfway through the level, you listened as Daryl began to tell Carl about his mother. You walked closer, wanting to hear their conversation. It wasn’t usual for Daryl to share something about his family or past. You should have guessed it would break your heart.

The image of little Daryl finding out about her mother’s passing in such a horrible way made you want to cry. And little him having trouble feeling it real because he wasn’t able to see her...it reminded you of what you had told him last night about Carol. You wondered if Daryl might be feeling that way again too.

“I’m sorry about your mom.” You heard Carl say.

“I’m sorry about yours too,” Daryl replied.

You stopped walking in order to put some distance between you and them, not wanting them to see you cry as you weren’t able to control the tears that fell down your cheeks.

You wanted to hold both Carl and Daryl tight and never let them go. After everything they had gone through, everything they had endured, and they were still so gentle and kind. Still comforting each other for their mother’s loses, trying to make each other feel better even though they were feeling miserable themselves. You admired them and were grateful they were your family now, you were totally sure they were proof there was still good in this world, because they were.

“Y/N, you alright?” You heard Daryl’s voice calling for you when he realized you were getting behind and you rubbed your eyes quickly. He frowned and walked closer, giving you a worried look.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You said before he could question anything, hoping he didn’t get to see your tears, and walking close to the group again.

Daryl gave you a look but nodded and his hand pressed gently on your shoulder, pushing you so you were walking in front of him as if not wanting to risk leaving you behind.

“Don’t worry Y/N, they are dead and can’t hurt you now,” Carl said solemnly, his small hand squeezing yours as you walked. It took all your self-restraint not to stop and squeeze him to you right there and then.

Right when you were about to finish, Daryl found Carol’s knife, embedded deep in the meat of the neck of one of the monsters, as if she had tried to reach the brain but hadn’t been able to do so.

You wondered if that was the one who killed her. If after that he ate her whole, as another one had done to Lori. Your stomach turned and your eyes watered again. Carl’s hand shook in your grip and you took a deep breath, trying to get a hold of yourself.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to stop if you started crying now.

“Let’s go back.” You brook the gloom silence in which your little group had fallen. “This place is as clean as it’s going to get for now.”

Oscar and Carl nodded their agreement but Daryl was still looking at Carol’s knife.

“Get going.” He finally said. “I’m going to give this place a last sweep, just in case.”

“Want me to help you?” You asked, reluctant to leave him alone there, no matter if the place seemed empty.

“Nah, it’s fine.” Daryl shook his head, his hand clutching the knife tight at his side as if he were trying to control the emotion at having found, it and you realized he wanted to be alone to mourn Carol away from the others.

You were sad he had to go through such pain alone, but knew that he needed it, needed his space and time alone to be able to deal with his feelings.

You nodded and turned to leave but then stopped, instead leaning to press a soft, quick kiss to his cheek. He looked at you, his blue eyes wide in surprise and he mumbled something you couldn’t understand, his cheeks beginning to taint red, just like yours. Pain shot through your heart and you felt dangerously close to tears as you remembered how Carol used to tease him mercilessly to make him blush like that, you two laughing at his sweet awkwardness.

He nodded awkwardly and walked away through the corridor while you, Oscar and Carl headed back up.

@momc95@jodiereedus22@osweetdevilo@sapphire1727@coffeebooksandfandom @the-destielr @checkintoreality @aislingsartistry @daddys-little-princess67

I never thought anyone’d like to be tag in any of my stories so thank you! It means the world! <3

If you want to be tagged please let me know.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon fic #the walking dead imagine #twd imagine #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagine

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babyleclerc · 6 years

Text

Cold December Night

Pairings: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Style: One-Shot

Prompt?: Anon: #41. “Does that stocking have my name on it?” Where Tom Hiddleston can’t stand the reader but he’s the host of this years MCU xmas party and he wants everyone to feel loved and special, so he makes her a stocking of things he knows she’ll love and maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t hate her after all. Btw, you’re a fantastic writer! Loads of love! -V xx

Warnings: Language, but otherwise just FLUFF. Are y’all seeing a theme w this challenge yet? lmao

Word count: 1.2K

Summary: You’re attending Marvel’s annual Holiday Party rather begrudgingly, and the night seems to be a lame one until you realize that a certain Tom Hiddleston has made you a stocking with all of your favorite things inside. Small cameo by ScarJo & Chris Evans.

A/N: Phew! Day 5 of this challenge with just a minute to spare until midnight! ;) I literally wrote this in pieces throughout the day today and just fell in love with this idea. I’ll be dreaming about Tom making me a stocking for Christmas all night... Anon/V I really hope you enjoy this one, thank you for requesting it! I had a blast writing it. :) xoxo

The most wonderful time of the year, my ass. You thought to yourself for the hundredth time that night. Ordinarily, the song was right - Christmas was your most favorite time of year – the snow, the music, late night chats by the fire with good food, cocoa, and even better company. But this year, oh man, this year had been mapping out to be one of the worst and weirdest Christmases ever.

It’s not that things weren’t good for you. Things were fine, to be clear. You’d landed your first real gig in the upcoming Infinity War movie and your career was finally taking off. You’d made friends with Scar, Seb, both Chris’s, and the like… but something about L.A. just wasn’t settling well with you. Maybe it was the fact that there was no snow on the ground (not at all what you were used to around Christmastime, being from Ohio), or maybe it was the fact that it was 80 degrees yesterday, or maybe… just maybe…it was that you had to attend this year’s annual Marvel Holiday Party with a certain Englishman who hated you.

…Yeah, that was probably it.

“Hey, Y/N.” Scarlett pulled you away from your thoughts, bringing you back into the room where the party was finally starting to get some life to it. “Didn’t see you come in. Beer?” She asked, holding one out in offering.

“Hey, Scar. Nah, I’ll pass. Gotta drive home later.” You say, though in reality your refusal of the alcoholic beverage had nothing to do with the driving home aspect and more to do with the fact that your nerves were wreaking havoc on your stomach and you weren’t sure you could handle the buzz that a few beers would bring. Better to just avoid it altogether.

“You sure it’s because you have to drive home and not because of a certain someone, whose name rhymes with bomb?” Scar sees right through you and raises a brow, assessing you beneath her cool eyes.

“No comment.” You scowl as Scar smirks.

“And what are a buncha gorgeous ladies like you doin’ in a place like this?” Chris’ Bostonian accent rang loud and clear as he slung his arms sloppily around both you and Scar’s shoulders, his heavy, muscular body weighing you down just slightly.

“You a little drunk there, bud?” You ask, grinning. A drunk East Coaster, now that’s what you were used to around the holidays. Right up your alley.

“Not drunk, just merry.” Chris drawled out the word, flashing you a lopsided grin.

And the night continued like that: you joking with Chris and Seb, and Scarlett’s cold commentary hilariously sprinkled throughout. Through the night, you had happily managed to avoid the Englishman who paid no attention to you, and instead insisted on being the most gracious host known to man. Ensuring everyone had a drink in hand at all times, had enough food, was warm enough and not bored, etc. You almost admired how gracious and warm he was – that was, until he would lock eyes with you and his smile would fade slowly to a thin set line.

You sighed. You almost admired him. Leaning over to grab your coat, you almost successfully had it on and were about to head out the door before Scar stopped you, her hand gently resting on your shoulder.

“I think you’re forgetting something.” She said quietly, nodding towards the tree. You furrowed your brows, not understanding what she was saying. Scar rolled her eyes, nudging you towards it, where Tom was standing – laughing heartily at someone’s joke. His features looked radiant against the light coming from the fireplace.

You swallowed hard and did as Scar suggested – slowly walking towards the tree. Tom’s eyes flickered to yours from the movement, only momentarily, before continuing his conversation with whomever he was talking to. As you approached the tree – you saw what Scarlett was talking about. Your eyes widened as they settled on the lettering in disbelief.

“Does that stocking have my name on it?” You blurt out rather loudly, interrupting Tom’s conversation. Tom hesitated, before excusing himself from the small group and joining you by the tree.

“It isn’t polite to interrupt, you know.” He scolded, folding his arms across his chest as he towered over you. Not menacingly, just tall. You’d never noticed how tall he actually was because he always kept a solid three to five feet distance between the two of you at minimum. At all times. Now, you were well aware of how tall he was – and how good he smelled – and it was messing with your brain.

“I don’t need a lesson in manners.” You snap after a minute, bending over to pick up the stocking in question. “Is this for me?” You ask incredulously.

Tom shifted slightly and ran his hand across the back of his neck. Was he feeling uncomfortable? Tom was never uncomfortable.

“It’s just a small tradition we have within the Marvel family. The host always gives the cast their own stocking filled with a few small gifts.”

You gape at him, not believing your ears. “You mean to tell me that you filled this stocking with stuff that I actually like? Or did you just run to the dollar tree and grab anything you could find?”

“How cheap do you think I am, Y/N?” It was Tom’s turn to roll his eyes, and a small hiss of disapproval came from his mouth.

You grimaced, not meaning to offend. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that I’m just… surprised.”

Tom scratched the back of his neck again, and shrugged his shoulders. “Like I said earlier. It’s tradition.”

“Yeah, but, it’s not like you had to do it, you could have just not given me one.”

“That wouldn’t be fair…nor would that be very neighborly of me.” Tom counters, the corners of his mouth bending into a slight frown.

“You’re not my neighbor.” You say, though a small smile plays at your lips.

“Touché.” Tom shifted his weight awkwardly, his word just hanging in the air for a moment. “Well, er, I’ll let you open that and see you later.”

“Sure,” You say, glancing up to meet his cool blues, locking eyes with him for the first time, well… ever. “See you later.”

As he walks away, you sit down next to the fire, beginning to pull apart out item that Tom had put into the stocking for you. For being so cavalier about the situation – he sure had managed to get you everything you had sincerely loved. Things that you had discussed on set with other people, secrets you thought only your core cast of friends knew about… yet Tom had somehow managed to bottle it up into this stocking perfectly.

You snap your head up, searching for him wildly. How had he known what to get you? How had this stocking been put together so perfectly? For a man who claimed to hate you, he sure did pay a lot of attention to your likes and dislikes.

Finally spotting him across the room, he locks eyes with you, glancing from the gifts in your hand, then back up to your glowing eyes. You know he can’t hear you, so you just kind of point at them awkwardly, mouthing a “How?” with an inquisitive gesture to go with it.

Tom just smiles at you and gives a small shrug before mouthing, “Happy Christmas.”

And a happy Christmas it had turned out to be, indeed.

Fin.

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