#RED JUST NODS HIS HEAD WHILE NATE CHATTERS AWAY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

helloalycia · 3 years

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teenage dirtbag [four] // wanda maximoff

summary: Things finally explode between you and Nate, and Pietro decides to get to the bottom of whatever is going on between you and Wanda, though in usual Pietro fashion AKA not subtly at all

warning/s: none.

author's note: this is very beefy, i must admit, but i think you'll all enjoy the outcome 😂💘

Dinner with the Maximoffs wasn't as strange as I envisioned. Her parents were sweet and the twins did their best to make me feel comfortable. Wanda still seemed mildly frustrated whenever Pietro and I would talk though, and I figured she may have thought I was lying when I told her I didn't like him like that. I hoped that wasn't the case.

After dinner, Wanda took me upstairs to show me her bedroom. I'm not sure how to describe it other than it seemed so Wanda.

"I'm guessing red is your favourite colour," I said when I saw the hints of scarlet in her bedroom. On her walls, in her bedding, on her pillows. Just like her car and her jacket, they were all bright and very her.

"Great observation, Sherlock," she teased with a sly smile.

I returned the smile, sticking my tongue out at her playfully, before having a walk around and coming across her massive CD collection and CD player. Her music taste was actually quite similar to mine, which I definitely didn't expect. It just made her ten times more attractive to me which wasn't good, but oh well. I was here for a good time, not a long time. And my crush on Wanda Maximoff would surely be the death of me.

"D'you have any CDs at all?" she asked, joining my side when she noticed me staring at the shelf.

I crossed my arms, glancing at her. "Don't get me wrong. I'd love to collect them, but it's just so much easier to have Spotify, y'know?"

My intention wasn't to make her laugh, but God I was glad I did when her eyes crinkled and the sound rang around the room, making my heart pinch with adoration.

After giving me some of her pyjamas, the two of us got ready and brushed our teeth before I realised she wanted me to share bed with her.

"You wanna watch some TV before bed?" she asked, clearly not registering my hesitance to slide into her Queen-sized bed.

I swallowed hard. "S-sure."

She turned on the TV at the end of her bed as I slipped in beside her, still a bit rigid as I kept a fair distance from her.

"What you feeling? Comedy? Drama? Horror?"

"Anything is fine with me," I said, still tense.

She hummed in acknowledgement before leaning down on her pile of pillows behind her, edging closer to me. My heart was hammering in my chest as her hair tickled my arm from where she was laying.

"You comfortable?" she checked in, leaning backwards so her head was upside down to see me. "I have more pillows if you need them."

I offered her a small smile, hoping it disguised my nerves. "I'm good."

She nodded before flicking through the channels and eventually settling on reruns of The Office. It took time, but I eventually overcame my initial shock of sharing bed with the girl I had a major crush on and instead relaxed, getting comfortable under the covers.

After watching some TV, we called it a night and fell asleep quite quickly, the day taking its toll on us. For once, I wasn't panicking about doing something stupid. I simply fell asleep, trying to ignore the heat she emanated from beside me.

It was a peaceful night – her bed was super comfortable – and I woke up to the sound of Wanda moving about in her bedroom.

"Shoot, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she asked when she saw me moving about under the blankets. I tried to blink away the sleep as she continued, "I was gonna wake you soon. School starts in an hour."

I rubbed my eyes, yawning, before sitting up and seeing she was practically already dressed. That meant she would have been up for a while, meaning she would have seen me fast asleep. God, I hated when people saw me sleeping. It always felt so weird.

"It's okay," I got out tiredly, before running a hand through my hair.

"You sleep well?" she asked, spinning around in her chair, her makeup half done. "I tried my very best not to use you as a teddy bear."

She was joking, but I felt my neck grow warm at the thought and damn, it was just way too early to be flustered.

"Yeah, I slept great," I settled, feeling her gaze on me. "Thanks again for having me over."

"Anytime," she said, and something told me it wasn't just a friendly response but that she actually meant it. Maybe it was the kind smile on her lips as she said so. "Just like last night, if you wanna use anything in the bathroom, go for it."

I gave her a thumbs up, taking a moment to wake myself up a little more, before heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I returned to Wanda's room, I saw she'd already made the bed and had laid my clothes on top of it.

"I've got a shirt you can borrow," she said when I grabbed my jeans.

"Oh, I can just wear the same thing again, it's no biggie," I told her, already grabbing my shirt.

She pouted before grabbing a shirt from her closet. "Just hold on. You'll love it."

In no time, she came out from her closet and held out a Paramore tee shirt on a hanger towards me.

"I got it from the last concert I went to," she explained. "I thought you'd like it."

I couldn't help but smile at the thought. "Wow, Wanda. Really? You don't mind?"

She nodded, shaking the shirt as emphasis for me to take it. I did, having a look over it and smiling to myself.

"I'll wash it and give it back to you tomorrow," I promised, taking it off the hanger and holding it with my jeans. "Thanks."

"You can keep it," she said, scratching the back of her head apprehensively. "I've got loads."

"Oh, no, I can't do that," I began to deny, but she shook her head.

"It's fine, I'm giving it to you," she said, before smiling sweetly. "I'm sure you'll look better in it anyway."

Again with the warmth spreading up my neck...

"I doubt that," I quipped with a small smile.

"Go! Go get changed," she said, already pushing me towards the door. "I'll meet you downstairs for breakfast."

I snickered, letting her shove me into the hallway, before heading into the bathroom to get ready. The shirt was oversized, so there was no need to be worried it wouldn't fit. It was actually really nice, plus I liked it that extra bit more knowing Wanda gave it to me. Though I knew I wouldn't keep it. It was hers and she was just being nice.

When I finished making myself look presentable, I headed downstairs and found the twins at the kitchen counter, chatting between themselves. Their chatter ceased when I walked in, with Wanda biting her lip and looking me up and down with satisfaction.

"I was right," was all she said, making me nervous. "You do look better in it than me."

—

The day after that, I did as I said I would and returned Wanda's shirt to her, washed, folded and ironed. Knowing she wouldn't accept it without a fight, I left it in her bag when she wasn't looking during class.

I should have expected her to approach me at my locker afterwards.

"It was supposed to be a gift," she said, and I saw her pretty face reflected in the mirror hung inside my locker.

I turned around, already knowing what she was talking about.

"I told you I couldn't accept," I said politely, giving her a small smile. "I appreciate it though." She seemed disappointed which obviously didn't help with my feelings for her, so I took a leap and added, "Maybe I can get my own at their next concert. In the summer, right?"

She picked up on what I meant and smiled, stifling a laugh. Running a hand through her hair, she met my gaze and I found myself frozen in place as always, unable to look away. I wondered if she knew what she was doing when she did that, knew that she was giving me heart palpitations every time her lips turned into a playful smirk and dark eyes studied me curiously.

My eyes drifted to her lips subconsciously and she must have put on some lip balm or something, prior to finding me just now, as they looked shiny and pink and just so damn kissable. Nate was one lucky guy.

—

Having faced issues with Nate three times now (AKA the three times he happened to launch a football at my head), I'd figured I wouldn't be seeing the last of him. He was a dick, meaning he had a natural inclination to piss people off, particularly me. But I never thought he'd go for Y/BF/N.

We were chilling by our lockers, chatting about his film project, when his books suddenly got knocked out of his hands and he was shoved against the lockers. I straightened up when I saw it was Nate, looking pissed off as he had Y/BF/N's shirt bundled in his fist.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted, trying to shove him off, but he merely pushed me back.

"This isn't your business," he said to me before glaring at Y/BF/N, who was quiet with panic. "You. You've been hanging around my girlfriend and I don't like it."

The colour drained from Y/BF/N's face as Nate slammed his hand to the lockers beside his head, startling him.

"I want you to stay the fuck away from Wanda!" he ordered, and students were starting to pick up on the fight that was clearly about to break out. "You fucking hear me, you nerd? Stay the fuck away!"

Poor Y/BF/N nodded his head, eyes avoiding Nate's. Meanwhile, I was angrier than Nate probably was. Y/BF/N had done nothing wrong. Maybe Nate had just seen Wanda hanging with me and because Y/BF/N was always with me, assumed the worst. Either way, this was no way to handle the situation and I was not gonna let this dick threaten my friend.

"Get the fuck away from him, Nate," I said through gritted teeth, glaring a hole into the side of his head.

Nate barely glanced my way. "I told you this isn't your business, honey."

"Five seconds," I said, standing behind him as a crowd began to form. "You've got five seconds or I'm gonna kick you."

He seemed to ignore me as he tightened his grip on Y/BF/N's shirt, only pissing me off more.

"Five," I began to count down, the grip on my books tightening with nerves and anger. "Four."

He still didn't look my way, just kept slapping Y/BF/N's face to scare him.

"Three, two, one," I said quickly, tired of giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Without waiting anymore, I kicked him between the legs with full force, watching as he instantly let go of Y/BF/N and doubled over. Everybody began to laugh, some making 'ooh' noises, but the consensus was clear – it definitely sucked to be Nate right now.

I tried not to laugh as I watched his face scrunch with pain, turning red. I was starting to appreciate my choice of wearing my doc marten boots today.

"No more balls for the guy who keeps throwing them at my fucking head," I got out, jaw clenching.

He looked up, his face crossing with realisation as he recognised me. In response, he glared in my direction, but it didn't faze me.

"Come on, Y/BF/N," I said, looking to my startled friend. "Let's go."

"What on Earth is going on over here?!" a teacher's voice rang out in the distance, and I groaned internally.

When I turned to leave, I heard Nate from behind me, grunting with dissatisfaction.

"Fuckin' dyke," he mumbled under his breath, and I paused, clenching my fists.

"Y/N, don't–" Y/BF/N tried to stop me, but I was too pissed to care.

I spun around and punched Nate square in the face, feeling good as his smirking face scrunched in pain and his back hit the lockers from the impact.

"Woah!" a teacher came out of nowhere, shoving herself between us and pushing me away from him. "What the hell is going on here?!"

I shook my hand to ease the pain on my knuckles, though the pain couldn't stop the grin on my lips as Nate raised his hands to his face, holding his busted nose. Students were going crazy, egged on by the potential fight, and for once, I didn't mind the attention. Nate had that coming for a while now.

"Everybody back to class! Now!" the teacher yelled, glaring all around her, before her eyes settled on Nate and I. "You two. Nurse's office now."

Nate glared at me behind his bloody nose and, once again, I tried not to laugh. Y/BF/N patted my back, amazement written on his face, before letting me leave with the teacher and an unusually silent Nate.

—

Kicking Nate in the groin and punching him in the face wasn't something I did to get attention, yet that's exactly what happened. Word of the incident spread around the school quite quickly, so much in fact that even students from other grades became aware of the situation and were approaching me to tell me how awesome I was. The whole thing was definitely strange, but I could tolerate it.

What I couldn't tolerate was having Chemistry after lunch and wondering if Wanda knew.

Would she hate me for punching her boyfriend? I wasn't sure. I just knew that when she walked into class and sat next to me, I felt everyone's eyes subtly watching us as if waiting for her to explode at me.

I'd been given an ice pack for my bruised hand after my visit to the nurse's office earlier whilst Nate had been treated for his broken nose (the fact that I'd broken it was hilarious to me, since I knew I wasn't even that strong). The principal had a very angry yell at us both in his office, neither of us willing to reveal the premise of our fight, before giving us detention every day after school for two weeks straight as punishment. Of course, Nate got his two weeks at a different time to mine for fear I'd punch him again (he definitely didn't like that, but he couldn't exactly say that to to principal).

I didn't bother using the ice pack in Chemistry for fear Wanda may ask what was up. I successfully managed to hide my hand and as a second surprise of the day, Wanda mentioned nothing about the incident. Not one thing about her boyfriend, about Y/BF/N, about any of it. I thought she might hint at it, trying to get me to bring it up. But she didn't which made me think she actually had no idea it even happened. Had anyone told her? Had he told her? Nah, probably not. His fragile masculinity probably caused him to change the story to something else so he didn't look like a wimp in front of his girlfriend.

Whatever it was, I was safe for now.

Thinking I'd got away with a confrontation from Wanda, I went about the rest of my day as usual. Well, that was until I was replacing some books in my locker at the end of the day and saw Wanda at her locker behind me, arguing with– yep, you guessed it. Nate.

Y/BF/N was collecting some books from his own locker beside me and we both exchanged looks as we saw the two lovebirds in a heated argument. Just when we were about to leave, someone cleared their throat from behind us, making us turn around.

Wanda was stood there, backpack hanging from her shoulder, beside Nate, who looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here.

"Hi," he started quietly, making Wanda clear her throat. He glanced at her before looking to Y/BF/N. "Look, man, I'm really sorry about earlier. I was wrong about what I said. We cool?"

I tried not to laugh at the way Nate was being forced to apologise by his girlfriend. Y/BF/N glanced to me with questioning eyes, so I simply shrugged.

"I guess...," he finally answered Nate, still a little awkward.

Nate nodded before looking to me. He still had his reservations, judging from the twitch in his expression, but for Wanda's sake, he kept his cool.

"I'm sorry for treating you badly," he said reluctantly. "With the football and just generally."

God, it was so hard not to laugh in his face right now. His nose had gauze taped to it and it made him look like an idiot. I fake coughed to disguise my smile, before meeting his gaze.

"It's, er, cool," I said, not in the mood to be an arsehole to him, even though he deserved it. I'd punched him – I think we were equal for now.

He nodded, before staying quiet. Glancing to Wanda, he waited for her to say something. She rolled her eyes and nodded for him to leave. When he was gone, she sighed tiredly.

"I only heard about what happened after Chem class," she said, mainly to me, a guilty expression on her lips. "I'm so sorry he acted like a jerk."

I chewed my lip, unsure what to say.

"It's okay, Y/N here took care of it," Y/BF/N said, smiling with amusement at me. Okay, well now she definitely knew.

"Yeah, sorry you felt you had to do that," she said with a grimace. "I guess he deserved it though."

"Kind of," I agreed, before noticing the regretful frown on her lips. "He apologised though. It's already happened. I kinda broke his nose... No point in dwelling on it."

She smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah..." Her eyes fell to my bruised hand before lifting it gently. I winced at the ache, but let her hold it, studying the purple bruise painted across my knuckles. "That looks bad."

It felt good punching him though, but I wasn't about to say that since it was her boyfriend I was talking about.

"It's alright," I said dismissively, shrugging. "Nate kind of got it worse. I'll live."

The pad of her thumb stroked the bruise gently and I held my breath, the feeling of her hands holding mine sending shivers up my arm. Her eyes flickered to mine, softened with guilt, before she let go of my hand.

"I should head home," she said after a pause. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Y/BF/N said for both of us, sensing my loss of words.

Wanda held my gaze once more, eyes half lidded as they glanced down. Before I could even question what she was looking at, she waved goodbye and left.

"She's either starting to realise what a dick her boyfriend is or she's just really into you," Y/BF/N said, patting me on the back. "Maybe both, who knows?"

—

"You definitely cheated," I told Y/BF/N once we finished yet another round of air hockey. "Nobody wins six times in a row like that!"

He laughed at my expression. "Tell me, dear Y/N. How would I cheat? The concept of the game is simple, really. It's not my fault you're terrible."

I rolled my eyes lightheartedly. "Seventh time's the charm. C'mon."

He chuckled, about to put more money in the machine, before his eyes got distracted by something behind me. "Well, would you look at that. The Maximoff twins are here."

"Very funny," I said with a knowing look. "You can't throw me off like that. We've established I'm already terrible. Now c'mon. Let's go!"

"I wish I was joking," he said, shaking his head.

I scoffed, not believing him, and turned around to prove him wrong, but I was surprised when I saw Wanda and Pietro walking into the arcade we were in. They seemed to spot us instantly, waving in our direction before approaching us.

"Fancy seeing you here," Pietro teased with a smile as they stopped before us.

I cracked a smile as Y/BF/N joined my side. "We're hanging out. And you?"

Wrapping an arm around his sister's shoulder, he tugged Wanda close to him. "Sibling bonding time."

Wanda rolled her eyes at his childishness, but I could tell she found it endearing all the same.

"Well, if you want, you can hang with us," Y/BF/N offered, and we all looked to him, myself raising a brow his way. He seemed to sense my reluctance, it egging him on as he grinned at them. "Y/N doesn't mind. Do you, Y/N?"

I swallowed hard as I looked between the twins. "'Course not."

And that's how I found myself playing arcade games with the Maximoff twins that Saturday afternoon. It was actually pretty fun, with Pietro being as competitive as I was and Wanda being the sweetest loser with everything she played. It was so adorable, but I ended up letting her win some games of skee-ball just so I could see that cute nose scrunch of hers as she realised she'd won.

"You gonna let me win like that, too?" Pietro caught on as he took his sister's place in playing against me. He had a mischievous grin on his lips and I felt my mouth go dry at what he was implying.

"You wish," I said, playing it cool, though I wondered if he cared that I clearly let Wanda win. He wouldn't read into it, right?

Pietro took his go as he spoke. "So, I heard what happened with you and Nate at school last week."

I closed my eyes, cringing at the reminder. Pietro merely laughed.

"You kicked him super hard, right?" he asked excitedly. "I heard his face went so red with anger that you could fry an egg on it! And don't forget that punch, goddamn what I would pay to have seen that!"

"Pietro!" Wanda scolded from behind us as her and Y/BF/N played air hockey. "Don't be a tool!"

I felt my face heat up with embarrassment as Pietro continued to laugh. Y/BF/N joined in whilst Wanda tried to hide the smile dancing on her lips.

"You're not even together anymore," Pietro called to Wanda between laughter. Wait, did I hear that right?

"You and Nate broke up?" Y/BF/N asked with disbelief. "Our grade's 'it' couple broke up?"

Wanda ran a hand through her hair to distract from her flittering eyes. "He treated you horribly last week. Both of you." She glanced my way before looking at her shoes. "He was a jerk. It was long overdue... Also, I would have broken up with him there and then had I known what he'd said to you. I'm sorry he said what he did."

She stared at me with apologetic eyes and I wasn't sure what to say or do other than nod awkwardly and look away. The fact that she'd broken up with him put a smile on my face though.

"I just think it's awesome," Pietro admitted, before saluting playfully to me. "Thank you for your service. I knew you were awesome, but this is a whole new level."

I sighed, attempting to hide my smile, before straightening up to play. Pietro and I played some skee-ball before I decided to have a go at the claw machine. Wanda was at the one beside me, attempting to win herself a fluffy black cat plush toy. She'd had three goes before giving up, admitting to defeat.

"Typical Wanda," Pietro teased. "Giving up when the going gets tough."

She punched him in the arm, making him jump and rub it. That elicited a smile from her, making me laugh at their immaturity.

"How about Wanda and I go and get a table in the diner next door whilst you finish up winning whatever it is you're trying to win?" Y/BF/N asked, looking to me, as if assigning blame.

"I already told you, I'm not leaving this machine until I win at least one thing," I stated stubbornly.

"The amount of money you've put into the machine won't make up for whatever you win," Y/BF/N teased with amusement.

"Just go," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "I'll be there soon."

"I'll wait with her," Pietro said, resting a hand on my shoulder, making me shrug him off jokingly. "See you soon," he added with a laugh, to his sister and Y/BF/N.

When they left, I looked to Pietro with an amused smile. "I don't need you to look after me, y'know."

He shrugged and looked through the glass of the claw machine. "I know. But I stayed to give you some advice, princess."

"Oh, really? And what advice is that?" I asked, before putting some coins in the machine to have another go.

"People usually tend to win these things for people they like, right?" he asked, nodding to the plush toys in the machine.

"Or for themselves," I corrected with a curious smile. "Take Wanda for example. How badly did she want that cat?"

He crossed his arms, smiling with amusement. "You could win it for her, y'know."

"What?" I asked, half paying attention as I attempted to grab a teddy bear.

"Win the cat for my sister and give it to her?"

I ended up dropping the teddy from the claw as I looked to Pietro with shock. He laughed at my expression, leaning against the machine.

"You do like her, right? Otherwise this is awkward," he added as an afterthought, looking down and smiling to himself.

My jaw hung open. "I– er– I never really– I don't–"

"She must definitely like you," Pietro noted, glancing at me.

I licked my lips as I found my words. "Did she," I cleared my throat, "did she say something?"

"Well, no," he said, "but she looks like she wants to murder me every time I hang out with you."

"That's just a coincidence," I said, shaking my head and looking back to the machine. "She's not–" I thought about, before shaking my head again. "No."

I appreciated Pietro's help, but Wanda definitely didn't like me like that. She was just protective of her brother and friendly to me. It didn't mean anything.

"Look, you don't have to listen to me," he said, straightening up and looking at the machine as I slotted another coin in. "But you could give it a shot. See what happens."

I glanced at him, his blue eyes watching me knowingly, a matching smirk on his lips.

"Fine," I gave in, hoping it wouldn't backfire. "Let's see what happens..."

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel imagine #marvel #mcu #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff au

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puckngrind · 3 years

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Leave Her Wild: Chapter 2 - N. MacKinnon

Summary: MacKenzie and her friends head to opening night for the Colorado Avalanche.

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

Word count: 2, 675

Series masterlist / Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Flames.

"You are really gonna wear that?" Mosi looks her friend up and down.

"Yeah, why?" MacKenzie tugs at her jersey. Of course she was going to wear it. Opening night, only hockey jersey she owned. Was a Christmas gift from her parents last year. She did a little twirl to show it off to the group of unamused friends.

"Because..." Drew rolls his hands and she rolls her eyes.

"Laissez les bons temps rouler!" Remy waves his hands in the air.

"That means, Let..." MacKenzie starts.

"Let the good times roll! We know.” Drew and Mosi say in unison.

"Alright, Mac is going to be wearing that. Remy has clearly pre-gamed. Mosi should’ve. We have our tickets and I'm driving so let's go." Drew starts herding the friend group out of MacKenzie's condo.

Opening night at Pepsi Center was always an event. MacKenzie and Drew got tickets from their volunteer efforts so the group headed out for their first time ever. They had gone to a Rockies game after Remy moved to Denver but normally the friend group didn't really do sporting events as outings.

“Is someone gonna explain these rules?” Remy plopped down from his first beer run with Drew and handed MacKenzie one. Eyeing her for the answer.

“Yeah. Kinda like soccer. You know?” She started. Knowing she was the only one who knew anything about hockey. “You can yell, cheer, boo. Doesn't really matter because no one really pays attention to the crazy you say.” The group all nod and she knows they will just clap when those around them do.

“So pizza-Jeep boy is wearing what color?” Mosi whisper yells while leaning into MacKenzie’s side during warmups.

“He’s in the blue and maroon jersey. The white is the Flames.” MacKenzie doesn’t take her eyes off the ice looking for Nathan to point him out but feels Mosi’s eyes on her. “Yes, Mo?”

“But… um... never mind.” Mosi stutters strangely.

"There he is." Kenzie ignores and points to the screen where they have a close up of Nathan showing his stats from the previous season.

The game starts which quieted the group’s chatter while everyone but Kenzie tried following the puck and going from watching the ice to the screen and back.

“Let’s go boys!” MacKenzie stands and yells after a big play with everyone in her section turning to look at her.

“Mac!” Drew pulls her down to her seat. “Check your surroundings.”

“You know I don’t care, right?” MacKenzie starts clapping again with a little cheer.

“As always, you do you.” Drew slow claps along as the game progresses.

Even though MacKenzie warned her friends that there might be only a goal or two, the game was high scoring which the friends all enjoyed. Remy cheered when anyone scored regardless of team. Colorado winning made the home crowd pumped and buzzing about being the year.

"We realize the season has over 80 games, right?" Kenzie comments to no one in particular as they head down the stairs.

“Food! Real food and drinks that don’t cost a million bucks.” Mosi begs on the way out.

“Allons! Let’s go!” Remy points to the closest restaurant he can see. "That one! Onward." Remy leads the group over.

Drinks, food, laughter fill the table as they banter back and forth.

“Isn’t that her, Mac?” MacKenzie hears someone nearby. She turns to see Nathan, Cale and a few more guys at a table about ten feet away. Nathan nods. She raises her hand then quickly feels the blood rushing to her face.

“Kenzie Lou, why are you the same color as your jersey?” Remy looks her up and down.

“Oh.” Drew mumbles with his mouth full seeing the table MacKenzie just waved towards.

“Oh yeah, this is gonna be fun!” Mosi clapped and is greeted with a kick under the table. “Ouch. Well it is.”

MacKenzie huffs and stands to her feet. Inhales and walks right over to the table of what she assumed was full of professional hockey players.

“Nice game Nathan.” She stops right at the end of his table and knows her face is still bright red.

“Looks like you were rooting for the other team there. Sorry 'bout that.” One of the boys down the table barks out.

“Hi MacKenzie. Thanks. Were you there? At the game, I mean.” Nathan turns his body towards her.

“Yes. Got tickets because of the foundation thing so we all went.” She gestures towards her eager looking friends. They wave and Nathan waves back with a flick of his wrist.

“Oh cool. So you are a… a Calgary fan?” Nathan gulps hard taking in the home Flames jersey.

“Well, a Tkachuk fan, actually. Yeah.” MacKenzie looks over at the 19 on her shoulder. “He was phenomenal last… ya'll. Well. Yeah.” MacKenzie looks around the amused players and shuts up.

“Sorry, let me introduce you. Guys, this is the other Mac. MacKenzie. Uh. Shit. I never caught your last name.” Nathan looks at her searching for a name.

“Blackwood.” MacKenzie answers and the guy across from Nate spits out his drink. “Um.” She just looks at him.

Nate wipes his face and stares down his teammate. “Are you fucking serious, EJ?”

“Sorry man.” EJ hands him another napkin. “No teeth.” He flashes his massive gap which makes MacKenzie giggle softly and Nathan groan.

“Let me get this straight. You live in Cale and Tyson’s building, volunteer with youth, only seem to follow Tkachuk 'cause you don't seem to know Avs hockey.” He wipes his mouth to continue. MacKenzie recognizes him as the captain from the game. “Have the same name as a goalie in the league, and are giving my boy, Nate here a run for his money.” Gabe winks with a sinister smile.

“Wait what?” MacKenzie puts her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

“What he means is…” Nate starts and MacKenzie places a finger up to stop him.

“No the goalie thing. I’m choosing to ignore the last part for now.” She says which gets a reaction from the entire table.

“Mackenzie Blackwood is a goalie in New Jersey. You happen to have the same name.” Nate explains.

“Gotcha. I’ll be honest, I catch games when I can but it’s background noise.” MacKenzie still feels her cheeks on fire but doesn’t let it stop her. “I will go to a Flames games if I'm in town when they play ya'll then a Blues game when I’m home with my dad and brother. Most of my hockey following is checking stats or social media.” She takes a deep breath not wanting to look directly at the table that all seem mesmerized by her presence. “Anyway, just wanted to say hi, which I did. So…. Nice game gentleman. Enjoy your post game dinner. Good seeing you again Nate. Cale.” MacKenzie nods and turns on her heals to her friends who haven’t touched their food since she left.

"Kenzie Lou!" Remy softly squeals.

"Don't." MacKenzie grits her teeth.

"What the hell did you talk to an entire table of NHL players about?" Mosi ignores her friend's request.

"I guess I have the same name as a goalie in the league." She annoyingly answers.

Drew starts typing before anyone can respond. "Oh yes. Mackenzie Blackwood. K not capitalized. Canadian. 22. New Jersey rookie who started last year. Wait, how does that happen?" Drew looks at MacKenzie's face . "Later. I'll google it later."

"Could we eat please?" MacKenzie takes a drink of her water and starts to finish her meal. She feels a ping on her phone and turns it over to read the notification.

Nathan's i-phone wants to airdrop you. Accept?

MacKenzie looks over and he nods at the phone. She looks back to accept and sees a screenshot from his notes apologizing for being awkward and asking for her number. She seems confused.

"Kenz?" Mosi questions.

"He wants my number." MacKenzie whispers.

"I'm confused." Remy whispers back.

"Found my phone on airdrop. Smart at least." MacKenzie chuckles.

"So airdrop your digits back to him or I will." Mosi pulls her phone out. "I just need to turn on mine. Who keeps it on? You, of course you do Mac." Mosi looks at Kenzie amused.

"Should I?" MacKenzie pulls at her loose curl wrapping it around her finger and letting it bounce back.

"YES!" Drew almost yells. "What could it hurt? Have a new contact for work at the least." Drew knew exactly what would get MacKenzie to send her number. She looks down to see Remy had written down her number on his napkin. The man always had a pen on him.

"Snap this to 'em." Remy pushed it over so MacKenzie did just that. Almost throwing her phone down as soon as she did. It buzzed not even a minute later.

Maybe Nate: Hi Mackenzie. This is Nate.

MacKenzie: Hi Nate. You can call me Kenzie or Mac

Nate: Okay Kenzie.

She looks up at him and he smiles wide.

Kenzie: enjoy your dinner

Nate: Same. I’ll text you later

She didn’t expect to hear from Nate but the next morning while getting ready for work, MacKenzie hears her text notification.

Nate: good morning. We are off Sunday and a few of us are playing cards at Cale’s place. Would you and your friends want to come over? It’s not far for you.

She stares at the text and starts to pace. Then sends out a group text.

Kenzie: Nate and some of the Avs want us to come over Sunday. Thoughts?

MacKenzie got all three messages immediately in return.

Mosi: obviously yes

Drew: yes is the only answer

Remy: fuck ya!

MacKenzie sent a text to Nate saying yes and asked what they could bring. She wasn't surprised Nate said nothing just themselves.

Sunday rolled around. MacKenzie and her friends walked down to Cale’s condo. She stopped in front of the door and Drew reached over her to knock. Kenzie looked up at him.

"What, just making sure we don't have to stand here forever." The door swung open as Drew finishes his statement.

“Nate, they are here and at least she’s not in a Flames jersey today.” The curly haired guy MacKenzie knew was Tyson from a quick google search of the team over the weekend.

“Decided to leave that at home, Tyson, but I can go get it.” MacKenzie points while giving him a half smile.

“Oh, and she...” Tyson turns to see Nathan behind him. “And she knows my name.”

“Sorry, don’t mind him. He got checked a little too hard at practice this morning.” Nathan pulls Tyson back into the condo. “Come in please.” He gestured and they moved past Nathan into the condo that was the mirror image of MacKenzie’s just slightly larger.

"Make yourselves comfortable." Cale popped his head out from the kitchen. "I'm sure you know where everything is."

"Yeah, just backwards." MacKenzie looks down the hall to the rooms. "Two or three?"

"Three. You?" MacKenzie raises two fingers and realizes her friends have already made their way into the living room.

"Thanks for coming." Nate was still standing behind her and she jumped.

"Thanks for inviting us. My mother tells me I need to make more friends here." MacKenzie sighs.

"Same actually. Tells me the team isn't enough." Nathan looks over her at his friends that were also his coworkers.

"Work, travel, and such keep my circle small." MacKenzie admits. "Oddly, same. You travel for work?" Nathan pushes his hands into his pockets and leans against the wall.

"I do then try to do different things for fun, you know?" She leans against the other wall.

"That's cool. Where are you heading next?"

MacKenzie's mind normally would be racing. Thinking of all the reasons why she shouldn't tell this essential stranger her work schedule but something about him made her feel easy. Maybe how he had more to lose if he burnt her. He didn't know what she did for a living but she could make his life miserable. Maybe it was the simplicity of their conversation or the kindness in his eyes. She felt like she could talk to him.

"Colorado Springs then off to Washington D.C. for the rest of the week and into next week." She answered him.

"Oh, I think we are in D.C. next weekend or maybe the beginning of the week." He stares at his foot kicking the invisible dirt then looked back up at MacKenzie.

"We are. Now are you two just gonna talk in the hall or are you gonna play cards here?" Gabe leans around the corner. "We've already gotten to know Kenzie's friends... let's go!" He gives Nate a look that doesn't go unnoticed. The two walk into the living room.

“Do I need to make introductions?” Nate looks around the room at all the eyes on both of them.

“Well, I googled ya’ll in preparation for today… so… I think I’m good.” She scans the room and sees a few of the girlfriends or wives. “Well, I don’t know the ladies.”

Nate took a moment to identify the few sitting around the room and who they belonged to. Pulling out an empty chair for MacKenzie. “Here, you can play here.” She sat down and pulled her legs up criss crossed under her as Gabe explained the rules. The group played poker until there were four left. JT, Nathan, MacKenzie, and Mosi. Mosi kept saying she accidentally won her table which made the competitive men agitated but made MacKenzie amused. Eventually it was just Nathan and MacKenzie.

“Kenzie, I think you and Nate need a wager of some sort.” Drew drops a bottle of water next to her and she glares up at him.

“I’m game.” Nate pipes up.

“Okay, so what if I win?” Kenzie takes a sip of water.

“Glass seats at the game of your choice.” Gabe declares.

“Okay, and if Nate wins?” Kenzie directs her attention to the captain who now has his hands on Nathan’s shoulders.

“You go out to dinner with him.” Gabe squeezes Nathan’s shoulders and smiles at Kenzie.

“Uh…” Nathan tries to nervously interject.

“That’s fine.” Kenzie tries to control her blush by not directly looking at Nathan then overcomes it to look right into his soft eyes. "Let's play."

Cale starts to deal and everyone can feel the shift of all eyes on the table even though most had scattered once they were knocked out in individual conversations. After three hands, Nathan goes all in.

"I think he's bluffing." MacKenzie whispers and pushes all her chips to the center.

"Kenzie..." He breathes out and Gabe's hand returns to his shoulder.

They place their cards down and Nathan wins with a full house. The cheers start and Nathan just stares at Kenzie who gives him a small smile. She gets up and heads to the kitchen to grab a drink. Finding Cale's rum and starts pouring more than necessary into her diet coke. Takes a drink and feels someone behind her.

"Drew, I'm not that competitive." She doesn't even turn around.

"It's not Drew." Nate murmurs.

MacKenzie turns around slowly. "Sorry. Nice game." She raises her glass to him.

"We don't have to go out for dinner, you know." Nathan shifts his weight.

"Well, a deal is a deal, right?" Kenzie tries not to breath him in as he reaches around her for a water but he smells amazing. He shrugs his shoulders. "If I won, would I have glass seats?" She leans into the counter.

"Yes, you can still have them if you want." Nate fiddles with the bottle, flicking at the paper label.

"So, dinner. When we both get back in town, okay?" Kenzie takes a sip and looks up at Nathan.

"Yes, I'll have my people call your people then." Nathan laughs.

"So Gabe will call Mosi?" MacKenzie bites her cheek with her comeback.

"Oooorrrr... I'll just text you." Nathan replies.

MacKenzie takes a drink again and winces with the burn. "That works too."

#leave her wild fic #N MacKinnon fic #Nate the great 29 #K's new series #2019 hockey season #nathan mackinnon

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ghstandpucks · 4 years

Text

Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch. 8

Hi everyone! I hope you are all doing well! I’m sorry this chapter took so long, but I hope you all like it! After school is done for the semester I will have time to update more frequently! This chapter kind of just feels out their relationship, setting up for the final chapters to come! Enjoy and let me know what you think!

I hope you all have a happy Thanksgiving if you celebrate! Be safe and stay healthy!

Prologue Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

Monday afternoon found Nate and yourself at the rink after practice was over. The two of you had spent a lazy Sunday together, working out how this relationship was going to work. You both decided to keep it quiet, seeing as neither of you were fond of the media to begin with. Also, you did not think it would look good for you and the program if word got out. The two of you wanted to enjoy the fun that’s supposed to come with the beginning of a relationship and not feel pressured by outside sources. You also decided that the team would find out as they found out, agreeing that it would help to have people on your side if word were to get out to the public.

All of this didn’t matter though as at the moment Nate had picked you up to move you to the side as he shot a puck into the net. “Not fair!” you yelled, laughing as Nate skated back over to you, kissing your forehead with a smirk. “That has to be a foul.”

“A foul?” Nate questioned you.

“A flag?” you questioned as he shook his head and chuckled. He was about to correct you when you jumped in. “Oh wait, a penalty! Yup! That has to be a penalty!”

“Come on Coach, you really should know the terminology better by now,” he grinned, snaking his arms around your waist.

“Guess you’ll have to do a better job at teaching me,” you smiled up at him, wrapping your hand that was not holding a hockey stick around the back of Nate’s neck.

“Is that so?” he questioned, leaning in. You nodded your head as he kissed you. You were thankful for your toe picks in that moment, allowing you stand on your tip toes without taking the both of you out. Nate held you tight to him as he deepened the kiss, and you were about to let go of your stick when someone cleared their throat. The both of you jumped away from each other like shrapnel, looking over to see who caught you. Gabe stood at the edge of the rink with his arms crossed.

“If the two of you are trying to keep this a secret, maybe don’t make out in an open space,” he said, then grinned at you and Nate. He couldn’t help it; he honestly liked the thought of the both of you together. That and both you and Nate were bright red with embarrassment of being caught. “Are you trying to keep this a secret?”

“I think more just quiet,” you said softly, looking over at Nate. He nodded in agreement.

“We don’t plan on telling anyone. Just if they find out, then they find out,” Nate clarified for you. Gabe nodded.

“I won’t say anything. Besides to Mel that is. But seriously guys, hide better if you don’t really want word out about this. I know he’s concerned about your program Coach, so I’m assuming you are too,” Gabe said matter of fact. It was your turn to nod. Nate grabbed your hand and started to skate over to Gabe.

“Thanks man,” he said once you got closer. Gabe smiled, looking between the two of you.

“Of course. I’m happy for the both of you. But he better not get any special treatment Coach, or I will call you out,” he tried to act seriously, but you could see the amusement all over his face.

“Oh please, he’s the only one I’ve made skate extra laps before,” you giggled, bumping your hip into Nate’s, which was more of his thigh at your height difference.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Gabe chuckled, and you dramatically saluted him. “I’ll see you tomorrow guys.” After he left, the two of you decided it was time to leave also.

“Maybe we should be a little more discrete,” you said as you were taking your skates off.

“I didn’t think anyone else was here. I definitely didn’t think of anyone coming back in,” Nate said, cleaning the ice off of his.

“It’ll be fine right, if word gets out that we’re dating?” you asked, and Nate could tell you were beginning to overthink. He placed his hand on top of yours and gave it a slight squeeze.

“We’ll be just fine Y/N. And I’ll be right there beside you,” Nate reassured you and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. “But, we probably should be a little more aware of our surroundings. So, lunch at your place or mine?”

~ ~ ~

Later that month the team had just arrived back in Denver after a week-long road trip. You had been more careful in your relationship with Nate, texting more on the road instead of sitting next to each other. Finally being back home though gave you two the privacy you wanted. You were currently sitting crossed legged in the middle of Nate’s bed as he unpacked his clothes, having stolen one of his Avs’ hoodies. After arriving back home, Nate had asked you to come over instead of going home first, as he figured you would pass out the second you hit the couch, or bed in this instance. “Can we take a nap?” you lazily watched him bustle around his room. It wasn’t the first time you had been over, but it was the first time you had been this comfortable. As soon as you had walked through the door of his apartment you changed into a pair of leggings and stole his sweatshirt, the chill of the vacant place getting to you. Nate was about to give you a hard time, until he looked at you and it seemed like his world stopped. He loved seeing you dressed up for games and then skating at the rink, but now he thinks that this is his favorite look on you. He walked over to you and placed a kiss on your forehead, laughing as you gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, as you had been complaining about how your stomach was starting to ‘eat itself’ as you put it.

“Cuddles first, then food.” You responded as Nate sat on the bed and tackled you down, causing you to giggle.

“You’re so demanding,” he mumbled, tracing the 29 that was on your shoulder.

“All part of my charm,” you stated, snuggling into his chest as Nate chuckled. Nate started to tell you about the Mile High Dream Gala coming up as you slowly drifted off, feeling warm and content in his arms.

About an hour later, a phone ringing woke you up. You cuddled into Nate’s side, one of his arms under you and resting on your hip as the other held your hand that was resting on his chest. You grumbled, rolling over as Nate answered his phone. You could hear Andre on the other end. As you started to drift off again, you had the sudden urge to sneeze…and it came out much louder than you anticipated. You stifled a giggle as Nate absentmindedly said “bless you.” Andre must have asked who he was talking to because the next words out of Nate’s mouth were, “Y/N just sneezed,” and both of your eyes went wide. Time to put Andre on the list of people who knew. Nate told him the two of you were keeping it quiet, and he seemed to understand from the look on Nate’s face. Once Nate hung up, you sat up and started to scoot yourself off the bed. “Where are you going?” Nate mumbled, grabbing the fabric at the back of your stolen sweatshirt.

“I was going to go get those take out menus you have so we could order dinner,” you stated, falling back onto the bed and smiling up at Nate as he trapped you beneath him.

“Five more minutes,” he whispered, kissing you softly then moving to kiss your neck.

“Five more minutes,” you hummed.

~ ~ ~

A week later the Gala had arrived and you were finishing putting on your earrings, staring at the dress Mel had helped you picked out in the mirror. When you told her that you weren’t sure what to wear, she had picked you up and took you shopping. You ended up with a deep blue floor length dress with a slit up the side. Slipping on your nude heels, your phone went off with a text from Mel saying that her and Gabe were there to pick you up. While Mel was gushing about how adorable she thought you and Nate were, you admitted that you didn’t think arriving with him to the Gala would be a good idea. She told you not to worry, then called you the next day to tell you that her and Gabe would pick you up, then have to leave before you and secure you a “ride home” with Nate. You laughed at her scheming, but were also grateful to have someone like Mel on your side.

“You look amazing!” Mel said as you hopped into the back seat.

“Thanks! So do you!” you smiled back at her. “Thanks for the ride you guys.”

“No problem Coach. You do look very nice,” Gabe complimented you, shooting you a smile through the mirror. You thanked him and talked with them the rest of the way to the Gala. Once you were there and about to walk in, Gabe offered you his elbow to hold on to as Mel was at his other side.

“Are you trying to have two hot dates?” Mel teased her husband as you placed your hand in the crook of his arm.

“I mean, who doesn’t?” Gabe chuckled. “But I think someone might fight me for this one…” he tilted his head toward you. “…so I guess I’ll stick with you,” he kissed Mel on her cheek and you couldn’t help but smile at the happy couple. Upon entering the hall, the smell of wonderful appetizers filled your nose and chatter filled the air. Looking to the left, Bednar was the first to spot your little group arriving and made his way over, introducing you to his wife. As you exchanged pleasantries, you felt a presence stand next to you and smiled wider as you looked over at Nate. He was in a grey suit that fit him perfectly, and it took everything in you to not wrap your arms around him. His tie was blue, and you laughed at the unintentional match. You hadn’t shown him your dress, or told him the color for that matter because you liked keeping things a surprise every once in a while.

“MacKinnon, you didn’t bring anyone?” Bednar asked, shaking Nate’s hand.

“No sir,” he responded with a soft smile.

“Take this one. Two dates are a handful,” Gabe nudged you into Nate as Mel smacked his arm playfully.

“Rude,” you laughed, hoping you weren’t blushing too much in front of Bednar. But if Bednar noticed anything, he didn’t say and just chuckled.

“We have a table Y/N. But if you’d rather sit with them you are more than welcomed to. I know you’ve become friends with some of the players,” Bednar said, motioning to the Landeskog’s and Nate. You opened your mouth to say something that still made your relationship with everyone seem professional, but he cut you off. “Which is a good thing. They trust you more that way. And I trust whatever relations you have you are using your best judgment.” Bednar smiled at you as you nodded.

“Of course,” was all you could say as Bednar took his leave. You turned to Nate, slightly uneasy. “Does he know?” you whispered.

“I didn’t think so,” Nate said, looking at where his coach had walked off to. When he turned back to you, he grinned. “You look beautiful.” You ducked your head as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Thank you. You clean up nicely as well,” you responded as Nate offered you his arm to walk you over to the table Gabe and Mel had set up at. Mel eyed you as you approached.

“You guys are disgustingly cute. I can’t with either of you,” she said.

“I think Bednar knows something,” you said as you sat next to her, Nate sitting on your other side.

“What did he say?” she questioned you.

“He said he knew I was becoming friends with the team and that he trusts I am using my best judgment,” you filled her in. Gabe chuckled and you quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You guys don’t realize it but you kind of gravitate toward each other at practice. It’s not anything too noticeable, but if you are paying attention you can see that at the least the two of you are comfortable in each other’s presence.” Gabe filled you in. You turned to look at Nate and he just shrugged.

“That’s not a bad thing,” he said, and you agreed. At least Bednar didn’t seem upset by it. As the night continued you had been introduced to many new people and had answered many questions about why integrating figure skating into hockey was useful. You found you way back to your table and sat down, your feet starting to hurt. No one said 3-inch heels was a good idea. You had also lost Nate somewhere in the sea of people. You were about to go looking when Andre slid into the seat next to you.

“How’s it going Coach?” he asked.

“Good, exhausting,” you laughed and he nodded in agreement.

“Has Nate danced with you yet?” Andre questioned, motioning to the dance floor that had many couples dancing on it.

“No,” you said. “We’re keeping quiet so I don’t think a dance would be good.”

“It’s just a dance.” Andre said, standing up. “Come on Coach,” he offered you his hand.

“Andre…” you started to protest but were cut off.

“Come on. Live a bit Y/N! You look too nice to just be sitting here,” he argued. You rolled your eyes but took his hand and let him lead you to the dance floor. He put one hand on your waist as he held the other; your other hand resting on his shoulder. You were laughing at a stupid joke he made as he spun you around and into Nate. “Lovely dancing with you Coach,” he dramatically bowed, and you did a small curtsy to play along. Nate chuckled as he took the same position Andre had, but holding you closer to him. To anyone else it would look innocent enough, but the way his hand held firmly to your waist as he looked at you adoringly made your heart speed up slightly. Nate deftly tried to spin you, and you laughed as you came crashing back into him.

“You’re a terrible lead MacKinnon,” you teased.

“Maybe you just aren’t good at following,” he quipped back. You danced for the next few songs, noticing the evening was winding down. Walking back to the table, you both sat down as Mel and Gabe came over.

“So, we’re going to go. Nate, can you give Y/N a ride home?” Mel smiled innocently. You tried not to laugh as Gabe sent a wink your way. Nate rolled his eyes but was smiling anyways.

“Of course. If that’s ok with you,” Nate nudged you. You smiled back at him.

“Good. Have a good night you guys,” Gabe said, leading Mel out of the room. After making your rounds to say goodbye, you walked out with Nate. He opened the door of his car for you, and held your hand as he started to drive. The two of you were lost in conversation about the night that you hadn’t realized he drove to his place and not yours.

“Um” you said, looking over at him before you got out.

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I can take you home if you don’t want to stay,” Nate said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“It’s fine,” you said softly. Though the two of you fell asleep on your couch that first night when you got together, you hadn’t stayed at each other’s places since then. Quite frankly, you had always been so busy with skating that you had never actually spent the night with anyone. Nate was different though, and he made you feel safe. Even if you weren’t ready for that next step, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to spend as much time as possible with him. Finally the two of you were away from prying eyes and you could be yourselves. As you walked into his apartment and he locked the door, Nate grabbed your hand and pulled you back into him. He smiled down at you, dipping his head to bring his lips to yours. You let your arms wrap around his neck, and smiled brightly when he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. Nate knew you didn’t have much experience with dating, and wasn’t looking to push you. He honestly just didn’t want to let you go for the night.

“I’ve been waiting all night to do that,” he whispered and you giggled. “Have I told you that you look beautiful?”

“Yes. But you can always tell me again,” you responded, laughing when Nate bent down and threw you over his shoulder. He walked to his room and tossed you unceremoniously on the bed. You started to take your heels off as he rustled through his drawers.

“Here,” he said, tossing some clothes onto the bed.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for these!” you said as you grabbed the pair of leggings you thought you lost from traveling two weeks ago.

“I think they fell out of your bag when you changed over here last time after we got back from the road trip. I just washed them with my stuff and kept them here for you,” Nate shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed to take his shoes off.

“You kept my leggings?”

“You stole my sweatshirt,” he chirped back, and you laughed. You did indeed take his sweatshirt home with you with no intentions of giving it back. Not that Nate actually minded. You couldn’t wear his jersey to the games like all the other girlfriends and wives, so he liked seeing you in something with his number on it. After changing into said leggings and one of Nate’s Avs shirts, you brushed your teeth with a tooth brush Nate claimed as yours from here on out. Then after washing the make up off your face, you crawled under the covers of Nate’s bed and waited for him to finish up. He came back into the room with just basketball shorts on, and you couldn’t help but stare at his toned body. “Like what you see?” he teased you.

“Maybe a little,” you blushed at being caught. Nate laughed and got into bed next to you.

“Is this alright? I can sleep on the couch if you want me to,” he said softly and you shook your head.

“Stay here,” you whispered back, scooting up to kiss him. The kiss was soft this time, almost like a silent prayer, and you cuddled into him as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“This is going to work Y/N. Whether people know or not. We’re going to work this out,” Nate said as you pulled back, running his thumb over your cheek.

“I really hope so,” you spoke, tucking your head under his chin and letting his strong heartbeat lull you to sleep.

Tags: @bqstqnbruin @avsfans95 @andreiaafaria @gravygravygravy @comphybiscuit

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon x reader #Nathan mackinnon #Cutting Edge

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rotomgender-moved · 3 years

Text

Under the cut is the first part/chapter of it

Title: Runs in our Family

Word Count: roughly 1.5-2k I'd say

TWs: Near panic attacks, mild dehumanization of self, general ask to tag

Part One

The constant click of timers and bubbling of boiling water is what grounded them, eyes flickering about the room to watch over everything he had to. The rhythmic sound of a knife cutting through vegetables was like music to his ears, a hum rumbling through their chest added to the harmony of the kitchen. It made him feel in control, because he was. Guided merely by his memory of the recipe. Even then, he can tweek and test and try new things. It allowed them to have control over its life. It allowed it to feel safe, even when working with fire and knives and pots and pans searing red with heat.

"N, my golden friend," His Zoroark companion began from their resting position. "The noodles, you need to put them in the water." N froze for a moment, startled by the sudden reminder.

"Ah! Yes, you're right. What could I do without you, Illusion." It chuckled as its own forgetfulness, scooping the fresh noodles in careful hands and putting them into the water carefully. Setting the egg timer for a minute and a half before continuing the final preparations on the vegetables. Picking them in his hands and putting them into the sauce in a few scoops.

"You are becoming a good chef, my golden friend, but you mustn't lose yourself in your head while working with fire."

"Yes, Illusion, I am very aware. I'm working on it, I promise."

"I pray to Arceus you learn before you lose a paw."

"Hand, before I lose a hand."

"You get the picture."

Truly, N thought as he nodded to Zoroark. What could I do without you.

N let out a breath of air, turning off the fire in the stone as the timer goes off. Waiting quietly for the sauce to finish cooking. Reminding himself to take a few tablespoons of sugar and sprinkle it into the sauce, making it just that much sweeter. Waiting just for a few more moments, they have to. Reward cannot be reaped without patience, he thought, he must have patience.

To fill his time, he spread his hands up in the air in a Y shape, spinning around and humming. Fully content before he felt a sharp pain in his hand, followed by the loud BANG of the hanging pans hitting each other. N flinched, covering his ears and letting out a whine. A shiver rocked his body, but just before they could feel any tears begin to brim. A hand was placed onto his back, or a paw, moreso.

"It is alright," The voice of his pokemon cooed. "It is only cooking utensils, nothing more. Now, why don't you plate your dinner and watch some of your shows?"

They continued to nod a little, thanking the illusionist with a scratch on the chin. Which, from the aura of joy it received from Zoroark, was greatly appreciated. N turned on their heel and scooped the noodles onto a plate he already had set aside before pouring a ladle or two of sauce onto it. N had promised Mallow a few days before that he would save some extra sauce for her to use in one of her dishes. Whatever concoction she may come up with, and however much it made the trio of chefs-turned-gym-leaders angry, he was excited to see it.

As he settled down at his little table in his little kitchen, he smiled a tad. It had taken well a while for him to grow accustomed, or even willing, to live in a home. His first actions at coming to this strange new region had been to find an escape in the woods with his pokemon companions and live off nature for a month and a half. Which apparently, from what they deciphered from the angry ranting of a disgruntled Hugh and the chaotic explanation of a worried Alder. Had left his fellow Unovans with a wild goose chase to find him, having only been discovered by an odd group of children with accents he didn't quite recognize mistaking him for a new wild pokemon, thusly getting hit with a thunder wave that left him in the Pokemon Centers human unit for a little longer then N would prefer to admit.

Once they had been captured and as Nate and Rosa dubbed it, "Secured, Contained and Protected", they were subjected to an explanation that pulling an out-of-pocket disappearing act after the multiple both he, Hilbert and Hilda pulled off, wasn't the best idea. Which he understood! But it wasn't out-of-pocket. They should have expected it to run off into the woods and allowed it to. Or at least explained to those paralysis-happy children to watch out for an uncanny woodland dweller with a Zororak.

Even then, once they were captured, it was surely difficult for them to adjust. They were a pokemon, weren't they? A beast, that's what he'd always been told. No human would be able to speak with creatures that aren't fellow humans. But isn't it the same with Pokemon? So are these pokemon more human than beast, or is he more beast than human? Was it the years of isolation that made it hard to settle in an actual home all by itself, or was it the longing to run free with beasts like him?

N didn't like sitting in that question, so as it always did, it shoved it back into a deep corner of their mind and locked it in a little box with all those other heavy questions. All of the concerns and the old ideologies he forcibly shoves away and represses. It was all he could do, if he wasn't a beast or human. Then who could he be helped by?

Well, it didn't matter. It hadn't even noticed it had finished its plate of early dinner during his lamenting. Having been lazily twirling the fork in nothing for a good few moments to minutes.

"N, my golden child," Zororak began. "Why don't you tuck me away and go speak to other people. You haven't left this little ranch-house in a few days; it will do you some good." They commented, nudging N's back. The soft clacks of things such as potions, a tube for those "PokeBlocks" that a pair of twins had been gifting to everyone on the island, and pokeballs.

"That… Does sound like a good idea." N agreed quietly, fully coming out of their thoughts. "Yeah." They got up off their seat and washed the plate and other utensils he had used swiftly, before shrugging their jacket back on and stringing their hair into a ponytatail once more. If Zororak thought it was a good idea, then N might as well be convinced. This pokemon had single-paw-dedly helped raise him from infancy to now. Always having found its way back to him. N thought of it as a mother and as they say. Mother knows best.

As he exited his home and was met by warm sunshine, he suddenly remembered why they had been so intrigued by the woods and all its inhabitants for oh-so-long. Or well, the week they had been there before they were hospitalized by four sneaky, pokemon hunting children. They couldn't be mad, though. They were apparently uncanny looking, Hilbert having described him as "a bit to long and a little too fluffy, with speech so fast he might as well just be making noises."

But N didn't mind, it simply thought itself as far more built for the wild than the others. But… Thinking about it, that could be the reason why everyone though that of him. As N walked, staring down at the grass in thought. He felt his shoulder bump someone running by.

"Watch it, tall-ass!" A quite foulmouthed voice sounded, making N's eyes flicker to the redhead who was already making a getaway.

"Language!" They simply called back, rolling their eyes, hearing a distant "shut up!" as they made distance with the redhead. "Rude child." He decided, looking up to glance around the circle of homes that they had all settled in during this odd meet up. In a region that nobody seemed to have heard of, at that. It felt weird, it was weird. Why did any of them trust it?

Well, it should speak for itself. It went along, even if dragged on by his group of siblings-by-spirit. Chattering away that if they were all going, he was coming along. That they had already packed everything for him, and that if he refused they'd just sleep powder him and take him along anyway-

Why did I not run off? They thought, realizing the slight horror of that situation. Those kids were needlessly pushy in trying to get N to talk to new people. Dragging him about the cruiser they were in with all the other guests. Introducing him to some of the other kids that Nate and Hugh had already dragged into their mischief.

What were those kids names? Barry and Sapphire, he believes. Sapphire was that young lady who's brother had given him the tube of pokemon candies, if he remembers. Barry was a talkative young boy who seemed to immediately jump ship to play along with Nate and Hugh's pranks. He also remembers a handful of other faces, a married couple he vaugly remembers seeing on a few news casts back in Unova, Red and Green were their names. Along with another lady he didn't recognize, who took quickly to chatting along with Hilbert and Hilda. Rosa had been coaxing a green haired boy out of his shell with who he thinks was Sapphire's brother.

He remembers a few other faces. A circle of kids all taking part in pokemon trading under Lance's watch. Bianca and Cheren, listening to a young boy, chitter away about his brother. Two boys nearly tearing at eachother, and not in a pokemon battle, while their supposed companions either encouraged it or tried to seperate them. One of them was that redhead who had swore at them, he thinks.

But most importantly, he met Mallow and Guzma on that ship. The only two he confidently remembers the names and faces of. Mallow was a sweet woman, a trial captain. She had seen his shivery, nervous nature and pulled him aside from the crowd. He had listened to her talk about cooking and asked a few questions himself. Which is where that interest began. Guzma was… well he can only say he was Guzma. Rough around the edges yet smooth in the soul type, who had introduced him to N's first new species of pokemon in a while. A very, very polite and well mannered Gollisapod. He could sense even before listening to the pokemon that it was well cared for.

It further made their heart pull, obviously the pokemon was battle-scarred. One or two chips on its shell that were healing overtime. But still so… Happy. Pokemon Battles weren't that bad, he knew that. But the confirmation that it was all okay was still nice.

"Hey, you!" A voice snapped him from his thoughts, making him turn. "Yeah, you! Take a few steps back. You almost walked yourself off a cliff."

"Oh- why thank you! I didn't even notice."

"Obviously you didn't," He snorted a little. "You're that N guy that Rosa was telling me about! I'm Ruby, I was out trying to see some new pokemon. But all I caught was you almost about to take a trip off a cliff." Ruby rolled his eyes.

"Well, I was lost in thought. Thank you again for catching me, Ruby. Though I'm sure I would've survived a fall into some sand." N shrugged, examining Ruby as the boy nodded over his shoulder.

"Well… Maybe as a thank you, you could come to the community house where all of us trainers are. Rosa said you had some pretty cool Pokemon that you never let anyone touch the PokeBalls of. It's gotten the group talking." Ruby smiled, eyes crinkling. N paused in thought, feeling the pokeball in his hand he recognized as Zororaks. It wanted them to talk to other people… So they might as well. Even if the idea of presenting their pokemon to people they didn't know made their stomach twist.

"... Okay, alright. I will. Lead the way, Ruby."

#ranger writes #pkmn posting #runs in our family fanfiction #hi :]#feel free to ask questions about it lolz

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hockey-fics · 4 years

Text

Soy Lattes and Red Wine ~ Tyson Jost and Andre Burakovsky (Part Two)

Part One

Summary: There was nothing for you in Denver when you decided to move there except a studio apartment and a longing for a fresh start. But the fresh start you’re looking for comes with a number of complications, primarily two.

Warnings (for the whole fic are listed, those in bold are in this part): language, implied sex/light smut, smut, alcohol, cheating.

Word Count: ~3,900

You were at Nathan’s apartment one night five months after meeting Tyson. He was having a small get together with some of the guys and a few of their girlfriends. Dinner and drinks. Tyson had invited you along. It wasn’t the first time he had invited you out to something like this. And it never went over your head that you were taking the place of a girlfriend. You wondered when that would stop. When he would get a real girlfriend and suddenly you wouldn’t be getting invited anymore.

But you tried not to think about that. And the three glasses of wine you had through the evening did a pretty good job of making that a reality.

Dinner was over and you found yourself in the living room, wanting to sit down while Tyson was lost in a hockey conversation with Nathan in the kitchen. So you sat down on the open spot on the loveseat next to Andre who was busy on his phone, clutching your newly refilled glass of wine in your hand.

You had talked to Andre many times before. He was always beyond friendly with you. He went out of his way to ask you questions about your life, getting to know you in the short periods of time you were together.

“Hi,” you say, taking another sip of your wine.

Andre chuckles at something on his phone, glancing up and turning his head to look at you. “Hey,” he greets, motioning with his head for you to move closer.

Scooting down the loveseat you look at the photo on his phone, a post from a meme account on instagram. You giggle quietly, leaning into him as he continues scrolling through the account, the two of you laughing at jokes together. When you take another sip of your wine you feel his gaze move away from his phone, drawing you to look at him once you finish your sip. And he was looking right back at you, your face so close to him you can almost feel his breath on your skin.

You were now incredibly grateful that you two were the only ones who had migrated from the kitchen to the living room. Swallowing heavily you eventually pull your gaze from his, your heart racing. Looking down at his phone it takes a few more seconds before he starts scrolling again and it takes a couple more minutes after that before the mood is light enough for you to both start laughing again.

When you shift in your seat you feel your glass slip in your hands, tipping some of the liquid remaining inside of it onto Andre’s lap. You’re not sure if it was carelessness, clumsiness, or the four glasses of wine you had consumed that made you spill the wine but you did know that you felt immediately guilty about it.

Setting the glass down on the coffee table you grab a handful of tissues, beginning to try and remedy the situation. You feel Andre’s entire body get tense at your touch, hearing him clear his throat. “It’s okay,” he mutters.

“No, it’s not,” you reply quickly, continuing in your efforts to soak up the wine from his pants. “I’m so sorry.”

“You really don’t have to do this. It’s fine. I can handle it,” Andre tells you, voice serious as he shifts back against the couch, staring at you wide-eyed as you continue brushing your hand over his crotch. “Y/N, stop.” Reaching down he grabs your wrist and you look up into his eyes.

In that moment you become very aware of why he was trying so hard to stop you, swallowing heavily again as you pull your hand back from his grasp. “I’m sorry,” you whisper but the wine has made it hard to keep your composure as the corners of your lips curl into a smile.

Andre chuckles nervously, shaking his head. “It’s fine,” he mutters, pushing himself to his feet. “Just going to uh, deal with this,” he tells you as he begins to walk out of the room, pausing and turning back to you. “The wine...deal with the wine.”

“Right,” you giggle, watching him leave the room.

You’re only in the living room alone for a few minutes, not long enough to talk yourself out of getting up and heading to the bathroom, stopping outside the closed door and knocking gently. “Andre,” you call gently, knowing your voice wouldn’t be loud enough to be heard by anyone in the kitchen over the chatter occurring in there.

A minute later you hear the door unlock, cracking it open a little as he looks down at you. “I'll be out in a minute.”

“Do you need help?” you whisper, wine stained lips parted slightly and pupils blown out as you look up at him. You could never say you weren’t attracted to Andre. You were aware of your attraction to him the first time you met him. But now, with the wine in your system you were given the liquid courage to act on it.

Andre pulls the door open wider, letting you slip inside before closing and locking the door behind him. “They’re black pants, the stain shouldn’t be noticeable,” Andre assures you, the pants sitting on the counter where he had been trying to dry them off, as if the wine was actually still on your mind.

“Andre,” you whisper, catching his attention as he stares down at you. Your breathing is unsteady and his is heavy. The bathroom is beyond quiet, filled with a thick tension. You press your shoulder blades against the back of the closed door, using it to steady yourself. You were tipsy but you were also dizzy with attraction, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering with such intensity you might physically begin to feel pain if one of you doesn’t do anything at this point.

And Andre does something, stepping forward and closing the gap between you two. Leaning down he presses his lips to yours, kissing you rough and fast, hands pressing into your hips. His lips are soft and he tastes sweet like the white wine he had picked at dinner. Your arms slip up and over his shoulders, one hand fisting into the hair at the nape of his neck. Pressing his body firm against yours you can feel he’s still hard, a whimper leaving your mouth and being captured by his. You feel him falter in response, not expecting that.

Stepping back he pulls you with him, his lips not leaving yours as he pushes you to the bathroom counter. “Up,” he mutters against your lips, hands grasping the backs of your thighs and lifting you up as soon as you place your hands onto the countertop, taking some of your weight and steadying yourself. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his thumb under your jaw as he tips your head to face him, leaning back in and kissing you again.

Your legs wrap around his torso, sitting on the edge of the counter so your body was pressed against him. “Andre, please,” you whisper, pulling back to look into his eyes.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he hums, hands running up and down your thighs as he gazes at you with a smirk.

“Fuck me, please.”

Andre’s smirk fades into a soft smile, shaking his head. “No,” he whispers, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Not here, not in Nate’s bathroom. Not for our first time together.”

Your heart flutters a little lighter and faster at this statement instead of heavy and hard as it had been. It was sweet and romantic in a way you hadn’t expected at all. “But our second?” you tease, giggling as you lean back on your hands on the counter.

“Third or fourth...maybe,” he chuckles, going back to trying to dry off his pants.

“Four times,” you hum, watching him curiously. You didn’t know what you were expecting when you kissed him, but you weren’t expecting him to be planning for it to happen not just again but multiple times. You thought you were just going to get each other off and then go back to be acquaintances who only ever saw each other on rare occasions.

Andre looks up at you, tossing the cloth he had been using onto the other side of the counter. “Unless it’s not good enough for four times,” he chuckles, stepping between your legs and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I’m sure it will be,” you whisper against his lips, knowing the effect he had just had on you from nothing other than a kiss.

Andre smirks, pulling back from you as he slips his pants back on.

You watch him do it, biting the inside of your lip in contemplation. “Tonight?”

“Tonight what?” Andre inquires, looking back to you as he does up the button on his pants.

“Do you want to do it tonight? We could tell Tyson I’m not feeling well and that you’re going to take me home.” As soon as the words leave your lips you feel a wave of guilt. You were just so willing to lie to Tyson, the plan left your lips like it was nothing. But you were so caught up in Andre, in the way his hands felt resting on your thighs, in the taste of white wine on his tongue, the way his pupils were dilated as he stared at you. So you let your guilt pass you in a wave, waiting on Andre’s response.

“Okay,” he says with a nod, stepping back as he takes your hands in his, helping you hop down from the counter.

You keep your hands off each other and smiles off your lips as you make your way through the apartment to the kitchen where Tyson was still standing and talking to Nathan. Walking over you wait till the conversation lulls. “I’m not feeling great, I’m going to head out now,” you tell Tyson, glancing back at Nathan. “Thank you so much for having me over, it was great.”

Tyson’s demeanor shifts to concern quickly as he turns his body to face you, attention on you entirely. “I’ll get my keys, we can go now.”

“No, you should stay, you’re still having fun. Andre said he would take me home,” you explain, glancing over to the doorway of the kitchen where Andre, as if on cue, was just walking into the room.

“He’s been drinking,” Tyson reminds you and Andre holds up his phone, already having ordered an Uber. “You said you’re not feeling good, just let me drive you home.”

“I’m fine,” you assure him, reaching up and pulling him into a quick hug. “I’ll text you later.”

Tyson’s eyebrows are furrowed, shaking his head as you pull back. “No, I want to take you home. I didn’t drink tonight so I could drive us home, it’s okay.”

“Tyson,” Nathan says, drawing both of your attention. He gives Tyson some sort of look you can’t read before turning back to you. “See you later,” Nate says with a polite smile and a nod.

“Thanks again for dinner,” you tell him, stepping backwards as you bump into Andre, his hand under your elbow to steady you when you collide with him. “I’ll text you,” you tell Tyson before making a hasty retreat from the kitchen.

“She obviously wanted to leave with Andre, why’d you make that so weird?” Nate asks Tyson once you were out of the apartment.

“You don’t think they’re…?” Tyson mutters, eyes flicking in the direction you had just left.

“What? Hooking up? I don’t know, probably,” Nathan replies casually, noticing the way Tyson’s hand clamps harder onto the edge of the counter. “Fuck. You’re into her, aren’t you?”

“No,” Tyson replies quickly, an edge of defense in his voice. “I just care about her...don’t want her to get hurt.”

Nathan chuckles, leaning against the counter as he shakes his head. “They’re both adults, they can figure it out.”

“But she just moved here, she doesn’t have a lot of people in her life and-.”

“She’s been here almost been a year now. You’re not the only person in her life anymore, bud.”

And his words should be reassuring. They should put Tyson at ease. But instead they make him feel like he’s been punched in the stomach. Sure, he was glad you had new friends. He was glad you had other people to hang out with when he wasn’t in town. But when he got back from away games and you already had plans on his day off he selfishly wished it was like the first few months, when you were practically inseparable. And the thought of someone else in your life in a way that was more than just some other friends felt more like being hit by a truck than a punch to the stomach. Someone like that could easily push him out of your life altogether. They could take his spot on picnics in the park, movie marathons and late night drives through the city.

You end up back at your apartment, it was closer to Nate’s and Andre thought it would be better since it would mean he would actually be getting you back to your own place like you told Tyson he would.

The night is everything you had hoped for and more. “I think there should definitely be a fourth time and hopefully more than that,” you comment, rolling onto your side as you look over at Andre.

He turns his head to look at you, a smirk on his lips. “Good, I was hoping for that too.”

It doesn’t take long till you’re curled up at Andre’s side, your back pressed to his chest and his arm wrapped around your waist, both of you fast asleep.

When you wake up the next morning there’s a slight pounding in your head from the four glasses of wine. “Morning,” you hear Andre mutter, rolling onto his back as he stretches his arms above his head.

“Good morning,” you whisper, sitting up and dragging the sheet with you, pinned to your naked body. “How’d you sleep?”

“Really well.” Andre reaches over, running his fingers gently along your back. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine...a bit of a headache, but I’m good,” you tell him, looking back over your shoulder at him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice hushed. “How are you so beautiful this early in the morning?”

You feel your cheeks get a little warm, looking away from him quickly. You couldn’t imagine how great you looked, your mind flashing back to your hair in Andre’s fist, to your face pressed into the pillow. Not to mention the makeup you were wearing the night before probably being a mix of smudged or just worn completely off. “Don’t try to make me feel better, I’m sure I’m not looking too hot right now.”

Andre chuckles and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t lie to you.” Andre reaches over at the sound of your phone vibrating, handing it to you.

“Shit,” you whisper under your breath. Tyson. You had completely forgotten to text him the night before like you said he would. Hesitantly you answer the call, bringing the phone to your ear. “Hey.”

“Are you okay?” While there is a tinge of concern in his voice it’s not as panic-stricken as you were expecting given your lack of contact the night before.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you say casually. “Just fell asleep pretty quick after I got home last night.”

“Okay,” Tyson mutters. “What are you doing today?”

“I’m not sure,” you tell him honestly. It was a Saturday and as usual you had gotten all your school work done during the week.

“You want to hang out?”

You glance back at Andre for a second before returning your gaze in front of you. “Yeah, just give me a couple hours to get ready.”

“Pick you up at twelve?”

“Sure. See you then.”

Hanging up you set your phone down on the bed beside you.

“So I guess this means we aren’t going to be going for breakfast?” Andre asks with a smirk, leaning back on his elbows as he watches you.

“I didn’t know you wanted to,” you admit. You weren’t really sure what you and Andre were, you just knew he had made you come like nobody else had before and you definitely wanted that to keep happening. “Maybe I can make it up to you.” Climbing off the bed you nod for him to follow you, walking into the bathroom.

You turn the shower on, waiting for the water to get hot before stepping in, leaving the curtain open for Andre. And he hops in without hesitation, pulling the curtain shut as he steps under the stream of water with you, hands on your hips as he pulls your body against his. Leaning down his lips are on yours, the kiss damp and filled with lust and you know immediately that he shared the same testament as you. That whatever this was with you two, the sex aspect of it was great.

And the shower lasts a lot longer than it should have, Andre’s hands on your waist keeping you steady as you step over the edge of the bathtub after you had shut the water off.

He leaves your apartment that morning showered but in the clothes he was wearing the night before.

A couple months later you’re standing in the hallway of the practice facility when Andre comes around the corner after practice, a wide smile when his eyes land on you. “Someone was rushing,” you remark, his hair practically still dripping wet after his shower.

“I know you’re glad I was,” he quips.

Giggling you reach up, taking the collar of his shirt in your hand and gently tugging him down to your level, kissing him eagerly in the quiet hallway. Because that’s what your relationship with Andre was. No labels, all fun. You would go to his apartment and watch half a movie before being pulled to his bedroom when Andre would cave after trying to ignore you grinding your hips back into him while cuddling. Or he would come to your apartment and you would order takeout and drink wine or beer, the alcohol blurring your inhibitions as you fuck on the couch not even bothering to make it onto the bed. Or in the shower, bending you over the kitchen counter, the backseat of his car. Anywhere you could get your hands on each other.

And days like this were no different. He had carpooled to the arena, texting you that he wanted to see you later. So you picked him up, neither of you wanting to wait any longer than necessary. After a few minutes of making out you head out of the arena to your car where Andre’s hand lands on your thigh as soon as his seatbelt is on. There was never any question about it. You weren’t picking him up to go for coffee or lunch. You weren’t going to just watch TV together or hang out. That’s not what it was about.

It had stopped being a secret only a few weeks after it started. Tyson had invited you to join the team and some wives and girlfriends for a few drinks after a win and the next thing you knew Andre was pulling you out of the booth by the hand, taking you down the back hallway to the bathroom where he pinned you against the wall. “You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he muttered, eyes trailing down the shirt you were wearing, the neckline just a little lower than normal to reveal some cleavage.

“I haven’t been doing anything,” you replied, batting your eyes in innocence as you stare up at him.

Groaning he leaned down, his lips on your neck, coaxing you to tip your head back. “Your hand on my thigh under the table all night wasn’t doing anything?” he whispered into your ear, pulling back to look you up and down again. “We’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” you whispered, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “It’s not even midnight.”

“I don’t care,” Andre replied quickly, grabbing your hand again. Following him you tried to ignore the fire that he lit in your core, how your heart quickened in anticipation. “We’re going,” Andre said to the table, pulling his wallet out and tossing some money onto the table. You knew he hadn’t been drinking, the money to pay for the couple drinks you had put on Tyson’s tab.

The thought made your heart hammer in an entirely different way, harder, each beat feeling heavy and painful as your eyes found Tyson. He had been sitting next to Nate on the other side of the booth. He had gotten there before you, too early to be on the edge of the booth, to save you a seat the way Andre had. He looked like he was about to say something and you felt like you should. But neither of you did, just staring at each other until you felt Andre tug on your hand, pulling you along with him.

“You okay?” Andre inquired about your sudden silence, opening the door to the bar for you, reaching his arm forward to let you walk out before him, stepping outside a moment after you.

“Yeah,” you whispered, not wanting to bring Tyson up. There was no reason for it. He was just your friend. Just a mutual friend. He was just your friend so there was no reason for you to feel this uneasy about everything. But the way he was looking at you in the bar, you couldn’t shake it.

“You sure?” Andre asked again, his hands on your waist as he stood with you underneath the light in front of the bar, waiting to make sure everything was okay before going to his car.

“Tyson invited me tonight, I probably shouldn’t be leaving like this,” you explained, looking back to the door of the bar.

“He’ll understand.” Andre’s fingers hooked through the belt loops on your sides, tugging you closer. “It’ll probably help him get laid if you’re not there anyway.”

You weren’t sure what he was trying to do with that statement. Not sure if it’s supposed to be reassuring. But you hated hearing it more than you knew how to explain. You should want that for him though. For as long as you knew him, when you were around him, he didn’t talk about girls or dates. But as his friend should you not want him to find someone that makes him happy or at least someone that makes him feel good for a short amount of time if that’s all he wants?

“Yeah, you’re right,” you eventually muttered, nodding towards Andre’s car, slipping into the passenger’s seat. The drive wasn’t long enough for you to stop thinking about Tyson, but you pretend he wasn’t on your mind as you followed Andre to his bedroom. And it’s not until Andre’s hands are undressing you with ease did you become totally wrapped up in Andre again. In how good he makes you feel. In how easy and careless it all was.

Part Three

#tyson jost #andre burakovsky #tyson jost fic #andre burakovsky fic #tyson jost imagine #andre burakovsky imagine #tyson jost fanfic #andre burakovsky fanfiction #tyson jost fanfiction #andre burakovsky fanfic #colorado avalanche #nhl fic #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine

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mariinara · 4 years

Note

HC where sam is your best friends brother?

I actually thought about making your best friend just Nathan? But, for the sake of routine and creativity, let's shake it up a bit and create another sibling– a middle Drake sister? 👀👀

-First of all, being best friends with a Drake means that you have to be wild and absolutely unhinged to keep up.

-Your best friend– who happens to be the middle sister of two impossible brothers – rarely ever experienced a dull moment.

-Since you were the same, you had no problem whatsoever with tagging along with her, wherever she might go.

-However, she was just as much of an adrenalin junkie as her two brothers, which means she very often traveled around and was usually up to her usual treasure-hunting, museum-looting, lost-city-plundering shenanigans with either her two brothers, just one of them, Sullivan, or Chloe Frazer.

-And as a woman who only had a couple of odd jobs with her, Nathan, Elena, and Sullivan for the sole purpose of being "the tech gal in the chair", you didn't tag along in most of those.

-In fact, you had a pretty stable job in a computer shop as an I.T. manager and technician.

-Sounds boring, but is quite lucrative at times.

-And, sure, you'd met Nathan. You thought he was an absolute sweetheart and a joy to be around. Sometimes, though, when he didn't listen to your advice that would prevent him from getting his neck wrung, he was positively infuriating.

-Sam, though..

-You'd heard of the infamous older brother. You saw some of his pictures with his younger sister and brother, too, but they were about sixteen-year-old photographs, taken way before he was thrown in Panama and got locked up for thirteen years..

-Sometimes, you heard your best friend talking to him on the phone, but it'd be very brief and happened once every blue moon.

-Her explanation behind the very superficial relationship was that Sam didn't really share such a strong bond with her. They almost always fought and never once did they go a day without flipping each other off at least a thousand times.

-It was because their sister was a bit more reasonable when it came to life or death. She might've been wild at parties and great at rock-climbing or swinging off a cliff, but when odds were against her, she knew when to turn back and call it quits.

-A trait that – obviously – Sam did not have.

-She loved him, though, and she would do anything for him and so would he. Anytime. No questions asked.

-In fact, whenever she asked him to send her something from Boston to New Orleans, he'd do it without hesitation and would even leave a small note saying how he'd missed her and would like to catch up soon.

-So you had a pretty basic idea of who Sam Drake was, but you hadn't actually had the privilege of seeing him in person.

-One day, however, your best friend called and invited you over to her place that evening because she was holding a huge family gathering.

-"Everyone's gonna be there!", she'd told you.

-You were always up for a good backyard barbecue party with people you haven't seen in years. You knew for a fact that when she said 'everyone', she literally meant everyone.

-Nate, Elena, Cassie, Chloe, Sullivan, Charlie, and Nadine were all going to attend and the only missing person was you– the life of the party and the most theatrical comedian in the bunch.

-So not only did your friend want you there, but everyone said that they'd come only if you did and you couldn't disappoint them.

-And there you were, standing at the head of the table in the large pergola of your friend's yard, a glass of wine in your hand as you entertained and told a story of something stupid that'd happened to you with a celebrity customer that almost cost you your career. The table shook as all your buddies roared in laughter, some struggling to breathe and others not bothering to try and sound respectable– snorting away to their hearts' content and slamming the table or sinking into their chairs.

-A huge grin played on your lips before you brought your glass up to take a sip of wine, waiting for your friends to calm down, and then, your best friend suddenly perked up, her eyes as wide as the growing smile on her face.

-"Is that..?"

-Your brows pull in confusion and you look in the direction that everyone was looking towards and you saw a tall, broad man, a duffel in one hand while the other remained in the pocket of his deep blue jeans.

-Your wine remained in your mouth a little and as he stepped closer, a sheepish smile on his face, you swallowed thickly, your eyes widening.

-"Sam!", his sister yelled, jumping from her chair to break a sprint towards him and collide against his chest, making him stumble back a little, a chuckle escaping him as he rubbed her back.

-Everyone rushed to him, giving hugs and serenading him with 'It's so good to see you's. He even picked up his twelve-year-old niece, spun her around, and attacked her cheek with kisses, telling her how much he's missed her and that he had a small gift for her in his bag that he brought back from his most recent travel.

-And then, your best friend and his sister dragged you from your frozen position, putting you in front of him.

-"This is (y/n)!", she excitedly introduced you, "Remember? I told you all about her."

-Sam paused for a second and you did your best to look confident but something about him was so alluring and knee-buckling that it was so hard not to see flustered, especially that he gave you what seemed to be a ghost of a smirk.

-"M'yeah.", he replied, shaking your hand gently, "She wouldn't shut up about you." He pointed out, making his sister pout and gently nudge his arm.

-And, then, out of nowhere, your confident demeanor was back, "I must be greater than I thought, then.", you quickly quipped, having literally no clue where that came from.

-Sam raised an interested brow, "I'll bet." He replied, his voice dropping an octave and his eyes boring into yours.

-Maybe it was the wine, but you wanted nothing more but to jump him at that very moment.

-You two broke the staring game when Nathan cleared his throat and clapped his hands, rubbing them together, "So who's up for some barbecue, huh?"

-Everyone murmured in agreement and they quickly went back to their designated seats.

-You hadn't even noticed that your hand was still in Sam's until everyone was gone from around you and you quickly pulled it away, unable to make eye contact with the incredibly handsome man before you, just sticking to looking down at the small portion of wine left in your glass.

-"C'mon and sit next to me.", Sam suddenly said, making your eyes snap up at him in surprise, "I wanna get to know you better.", he clarified, sending you a sly smirk before brushing past you, making sure that his shoulder gently nudged yours.

-You looked at him as he confidently sauntered away, your mouth agape but an amused smile still present.

-"I warn you..", you whipped your head to see your best friend grinning at you, bemused by the whole scene that'd unfolded before her eyes. She walked towards you, "He'll break your heart.", she shook her head, taking a sip out of her beer.

-A snort left you and you shook your head, "He's.. not my type..", you mutter, downing the last drops of red wine afterwards as if to wash down the blatant lie that you'd just told.

-"Mm-hmm..", she gave you a sassy look and you rolled your eyes, gently kicking her along, telling her to shut up and get a move on.

-When you made it to the table, Sam looked up at you and smiled cordially, patting the chair next to him.

-You sat down next to him, and immediately, the chattering around the table began, and you were back to being your funny, confident self, captivating everyone with your brilliant story-telling and impeccable impressions that left everyone keeling over and laughing.

-Sam was a funny guy as well. He'd throw a few comments here and there that made your stories even funnier.

-You laughed together a few times and most of the time, his eyes were on you. He'd laugh and grin and nod along while sipping on his beer sometimes, but other than that, he was fully enamored with you.

-Not only were you attractive and witty, but also funny and really passionate, which was a dangerous mix that had Sam immediately sold.

-Everyone went to get their grilling on and were shoving their faces with hotdogs. Charlie and Nathan had an eating contest while Cassie filmed it with her camera, giggling all the while.

-So everyone was gathered in different areas, sometimes joining in on others' conversations or just sticking to their own, intimate ones.

-Your best friend was immersed in a conversation with Charlie, who'd won the hotdog eating contest and wasn't as whoozy as Nathan was. Charlie also happened to be her ex-boyfriend, but they were on great terms, even after they'd broken it off.

-And there you were with Sam, on the garden swing, keeping a good, friendly distance between each other, but somehow, the looks you shared suggested otherwise.

-You told him stories he needed to hear to have an idea about who you were as a person. You told him how you met Nate and his sister and he pretended not to know any of the information you spilt. He only listened to you intently because the way you pieced your stories was so interesting and your voice was captivating and so were your over-the-top hand gestures.

-He just loved listening to you.

-And the two of you didn't notice the hours go by, only absentmindedly bidding farewell to the friends who left.

-And soon, it was only the two of you, chatting away, laughing and sighing wistfully at memories.

-"You two are so indiscreet.", you and Sam look up at his sister, who had her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, a smirk on her face, "Everyone noticed."

-"Noticed?", Sam asked, raising a brow and narrowing his eyes.

-She scoffed, "Uh, yeah. You two lovebirds are so obvious."

-"A-ha. M'kay. Good talk.", Sam gave her a wry smile, further confirming his sister's suspicion.

-"He likes you but he's too pussy to admit it.", She told you, making you chuckle, the heat creeping up your neck again to make you look down in hopes of concealing your embarrassment.

-"Shut up or else.", Sam warned, leaning forward on the swing, as if he was preparing to pounce on his sister.

-But she ignored him and kept her eyes on you, "Remember what I told you..~", she taunted before stretching and looking at Sam, "You stayin' here?"

-Sam glared, "Do I have any other choice?" He asked in a "duh" tone.

-She yawned and nodded, scratching the back of her neck and stretching tiredly, "Okay, well..", a deep sigh left her as she moved her arms around to stretch her muscles, "I'm turnin' over."

-You cleared your throat and gently smacked your thighs before getting up, "I, uhh.. better get goin', too.", you sent Sam a warm smile, "It's gettin' kinda late."

-He looked up at you with his starry, puppy eyes before standing to tower over you, wiping his hands against the sides of his thighs, "Yeah, uhh..", he paused for a second, "Want me to walk you?"

-Yeah, you did. And you almost approved before you closed your mouth again and closed your eyes, breathing out a soft chuckle at your own ridiculousness, "No, I.. came over here in my car.", you told him and he nodded, his lips pursing to a thin smile.

-"Ugh, get it over with!", his sister complained, looking back and forth between the two of you, irked by the palpable tension in the air.

-Sam quickly sent her a death glare, "Do you mind?", he warned behind clenched teeth.

-She rolled her eyes and backtracked, "As if me leaving's gonna grow you any balls..", she mumbled, but Sam completely heard her and shook his head in dismay as you chuckled at their antics, watching her walk towards her front door and slip inside.

-When you looked back at Sam, his eyes were already on you and you smiled at him while he reciprocated it with a slightly awkward one, "Guess this is the part where I ask you out, huh..?", he spoke lowly, scratching his cheek and averting his gaze from yours for a second.

-You tilted your head, "Guess so..", you pushed your hand in your pocket and pulled out a pen, "Gimme your hand."

-Sam raised a brow but did so anyway and you grabbed his hand, turning it so you could see the back of it and scribbled down with the ink on his skin.

-"There." You let go and he looked at his hand, smiling when he found that you wrote your phone number, "Call me."

-He chuckled as he looked back up at you, "Will do."

-You paused for a second and, just to make up for the time you weren't going to be together in, you stood on your toes and pulled him in, planting a gently, chaste kiss on his cheek before pulling away, smiling at him warmly when you saw his fingers gently ghosting the area where your lips pressed against his skin.

-"See you 'round.", you winked at him and backed away, turning around to leave.

-Sam watched you, almost bewitched by the way you made him feel. His eyes followed you intently and took note of everything: the sway of your hips and your curves and legs and everything.

-But, suddenly, he called out for you when he remembered something, stopping you in your tracks. You looked back at him, raising a curious brow, "What'd she tell you about me earlier?"

-You paused for a few seconds, a smirk playing on your lips as you realized what he was referring to, "Nothing.", you waved him off, "Just don't break my heart!", you jut a finger at him, playfully warning him with a glare that caused him to chuckle.

-"No promises."

-But he'd be lying if he didn't admit that anyone who'd break your heart would be a complete and utter ungrateful idiot.

Tags: @missdictatorme , @the-drakeboys , @the-winchesterboys , @samdrakeftw , @easy-and-steady @s4mdrake , @writer-jamie , @hrgnm , @purplezebra68 , @elledrake , @misslongcep

#sam drake #samuel drake #uncharted #peakymarvels #sam drake fanfiction #sam drake x reader #uncharted4 #samuel drake x reader #my writing

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distinguishednachotale · 4 years

Text

The DJ

Chapter One

Non disclosure agreements had become a very natural part of your life. Your makeup artists and hair stylists signed them before working on you or with you, it wasn’t always this way. Before you didn’t care, it didn’t matter who saw you and what they said to media outlets. You had nothing to hide. But slowly piece by piece, he took that from you. It started with an argument one week, a few months later a shove, a while after that a wine glass thrown at your head, the first black eye happened on your 23rd birthday, your first broken rib about six months after that. Now by your 27th birthday you were a seasoned professional at covering up bruises, making excuses and knowing how to do a red carpet event without flinching as you nursed nursed bruised ribs that made breathing a painful mission.

In between all the violence there was blame being placed on you.

“You just made me mad… I saw you look at him… Its your fault you lost our baby…”

Everything was your fault. All of it.

“Everly, are you with us?” Blinking you drew yourself back to reality. “Zoned our there for a minute, Ev.” You smiled, nodding. Running your hand over your face you let out a yawn which you tried to hide in the sleeve of your oversized sweater, the soft wool all but covered your small hands. You’d chosen the khaki sweater strategically to hide the bruises on your wrist following the latest conflict at home.

Around the table sat the cast and crew for your upcoming project, ‘Ibiza’. You hadn’t had much work of late, Nate had taken it upon himself to screen your offers ensuring you didn’t do any roles he wouldn’t have approved. Your calendar had become eerily quiet, which left you more time in the apartment with Nate than you wanted. Across the table sat your co-star and male lead, Richard Madden. He had dressed for the occasion while you looked you were more on the shabby side of a shabby-chic, leggings and white flat converse with your long wavy hair thrown into the messiest bun you had put together in a while, your reading glasses were an unwelcome addition as they pressed in the wrong spot of your bruised nose.

He had noticed you were a shell of the woman he remembered working with on Game of Thrones seven years prior. You had played Talisa Stark, his characters wife. He remembered you bouncing onto set, a fresh faced 20 year old full of life while now he saw a flat version of yourself.

“... Right, it’s been a big day how about we wind this up.” Farewells were passed around, the schedule ahead for filming was intense with plenty of night shoots in different international locations. The ‘behind the scenes’ guys had disappeared from the room, leaving you to pack your script back together - your notes were etched in the margins on most pages, handwriting messy as always.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Richard approaching you and kneeling beside you, his elbow resting on the table while his other hand was on your shoulders. You resisted flinching, every fibre of your being telling you not to flinch and give anything away.

“Did you want to come get a coffee, or something stronger Ev? You look like you need it.”

“Oh, uh, I can’t Richard. Rain check?” He stood up as you rose to your feet giving you space to get our from behind the table. Suddenly he realised how small you had become, you were at least 10 pounds lighter and your presence was no longer large and vibrant like it had been all those years ago. Then he saw it, as you lift your classes to wipe under your eyes Richard spotted your foundation had lifted revealing a glimmer of angry bruising in the corner of your eye.

“Have you got my number still?”

“Yeah, I think I do.” Lies. Nate would never allow you to keep his number.

“Can I walk you out?” Nodding you picked up your bag, following Richard out of the studio to the car park. It was fairly empty, the sun had long gone down and been replaced by the bright full moon. Street lights lit the carpark, moths hovering around the glowing lights along. Pulling your sweater closer an involuntary shudder took over your body, lighting a cigarette between your lips you felt the toxic stick provide a small relief. “That’s new.” Richard noted, lighting his own.

When filming on some of the coldest sets for Game of Thrones you and Richard would often be huddled together in the corner, him puffing on a cigarette while you attempted to steal his body warmth with his coat pulled around you both. Between the chattering of your teeth, you would be scolding him for having such a habit. But the smell never lingered on him, his natural husk always over powered it in the nicest way. You both often joked it was good your characters died before “winter came” as neither one of you were sure you’d be able to film in anything colder.

“I was waiting for you out here.” You felt a hand snake into yours from behind and a large body stand beside you, your fingers started aching quickly as they were squeezed together; a small warning of his unhappiness.

“Sorry, we ran late. Nate, this is Richard.” Richard felt his jaw clench and tighten, again your body shrank and everything about you seemed wrong. The way Nate stood beside, you and his voice confirmed Richard’s suspicions. “It was good to see you again - I mean work with you. I’ll see you on set.” Before another word was said, you felt Nate ‘gently’ leading you away to his parked car. Casting a quick look behind you, Richard stood there holding his cigarette to his mouth a worried look etched on his face. He knew, you knew he knew. But nothing needed to be said.

The night ended the way it began, tears flowing from your eyes as you held a bag of peas on your nose and another cigarette hanging from your lips as you sat on your balcony looking off at the sun rising. As you slid gently into your bed an arm snaked over your waist, a chaste kiss pressed to your jaw.

“I’m sorry, Everly. You just shouldn’t have flirted with the DJ.”

#richard madden #richard madden x reader #leo west #richard madden fanfiction

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daddyfuckinlonglegs · 5 years

Text

Busted.

Nate was asleep. MacCready was sure of it. Well, half sure; he wasn't snoring, but his breath was rasping a little in his throat, steady and even, like a strange little tide from his lungs. Mac shuffled along the bedroll a little, trying to keep some distance between them, and pulled the corner of the sleeping bag up to his chin. It'd been weeks since they'd had any time apart, and MacCready was starting to get a little...tense. He didn't like doing this, not with someone so close, but it certainly wasn't the first time – growing up in Lamplight had certainly taught him how to be quiet about it, and anyway, after the... He shook his head, pushing it away. Okay. Okay, here goes. He moved his hand slowly, carefully, under the cover, down the flat of his stomach and into his pocket, fishing out a small, crumpled picture, smoothing it out one handed and propping it carefully against the edge of his pack, close to his face – a clipping from a pre-war skin-mag, the picture was well worn, thick white fold-lines creasing and criss-crossing the action, but all the bits that mattered were still clear as day. His hand crept to the front of his pants, silently unfastening them and sliding them down his hips, just a little, just enough. He kept his breathing soft, almost holding his breath as his fingertips brushed down the side of his dick, as he pulled it out of his pants, as he tucked the front of his vest up over his stomach He shivered in anticipation, curling his fingers down into his pubic hair, rubbing the heel of his palm along his shaft, cold nerves running down his back. God he needed this; his balls felt bluer than a mutfruit, even the rough surface of the bedroll felt good against his skin. He sucked his stomach in, a bright burst of sensation pealing from his groin as he tugged softly at himself, and focused on the photo – god knows how many times he'd jerked off to this picture, even if it was hard to make out in the dark room, he knew it like the back of his hand. The woman's hair falling down her back, her round, peachy ass, her smooth, clear skin, fuck, I bet she smells delicious, like fresh air in the morning, bet she tastes so clean and fucking swee- Nate shuffled, and MacCready froze, jerking his eyes up, staring at the wall in taut silence. Nate moved again, drawing the blanket further up his shoulders, curling his hand beneath the small pillow. MacCready let his breath out slowly, silently, relief washing through him. Okay, still asleep. Okay... He fixed his eyes back on the photo, biting his lip, pushing his hips forward a little, crossing his ankles. His eyes scanned the picture restlessly. Her spread legs, her knees up at her shoulders, the soft pink swell of her pussy under her dirty blonde pubes, the guy putting it in her hard and fast... or maybe slow, maybe taking his time, letting her slide onto his dick, teasing her, just the tip, pushing it in real slow. God it must feel so good to be in her, to have him in her... MacCready squeezed his eyes shut and bit down on the corner of the blanket, one hand clamped in a wet fist around the head of his cock, the other smoothing up over his chest, pinching his nipple. His mind wandered, all on it's own; the first time he'd gotten close to a girl, just before he left lamplight, his hand tucked inside her dress, exploring her while she wriggled in his lap; how he'd felt inside Lucy when they'd made it the first time, so soft but so desperate for each other; when they'd gotten their own place, a real bed, how he'd bent her over it and eaten her wet pussy until she couldn't take it and begged for him; remembering how she'd pulled him away before he came inside her and took it in her mouth instead, shit that was good; remembering how it felt, hazy and cold, outside the bar in Sanctuary, Nate on his knees in the dirt, his mouth warm and wet around - He gasped, a little too loudly, and let go of his dick, clamping his teeth together, breath hissing into the blanket. What the fuck, man? We're jerking to this now? He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, cracked his wrist in a slow circle. Fine.

It had felt pretty good, drunk or not. And it wasn't like you turned him down. You let him do it, didn't you? You let him suck your dick, 'cause you're a dirty little pervert, and wanted to know what it's like. MacCready's stomach tensed, and he clenched his thighs. God he was right there, this was such a bad idea... Yeah, with an older guy. A guy who's paying you. RJ you little creep. You want him to take advantage of you, yeah, you want him to use you... He whimpered, pulling his knees up, a shiver running through him, that sweet, hot tension building in his stomach. He spread his legs, panting softly into the blanket. Nate cleared his throat. Loudly. Deliberately. MacCready started, panic rushing him, blushing bright red and cold, his hard-on softening almost instantly. He lay absolutely still, his pulse bursting in his ears, gripping the folds of his pants until his knuckles were white – Shit! - he didn't dare pull them up yet. Nate moved, rolling carefully onto his back, and they sat, silent, paused in the darkness. Nate spoke first. “You, uh... you need me to go outside? For a little while?” MacCready cursed silently, screwing his eyes shut. He swallowed. “Uhh... no, you're... you're okay.” His voice came out high and wavering. He heard Nate stifle a laugh. “You sure? I can take a smoke for ten minutes...” MacCready slid his pants back up, arching his ass off the floor and huffing, shame-faced, tense frustration settling in him. “It's fine.” Nate snickered. “Doesn't sound fine.” “It's fine.” Nate rolled again, leaning up on his elbow, facing MacCready. Mac stayed facing the wall, his cheeks hot and his mouth dry, his pulse heavy in his groin. Nate nudged him playfully. “What's the matter, you hoping I'm gonna take over?” Mac shivered and gritted his teeth. “Get lost.” Nate nudged him again, snickering. “What were you thinking about?” His voice was plastered with that smug little smile. MacCready grimaced. “You getting off my dick about it, and never talking to me again.”

“Ouch.” Nate sighed, then, almost a whisper: “I thought maybe you liked that. Me. On your dick.” MacCready swallowed. “Fuck off.” Nate shrugged, hesitated; then rubbed his hand gently against MacCready's thigh. “I'm right here if you... y'know, change your mind.”

Nate lifted his hand away, closed his eyes. Mac felt the pressure of hot nerves in his chest, and like it or not, his dick was getting hard again. This fuckin' guy, he's just... he just knows, doesn't he? That it... that after... Mac struggled a flurry of thoughts into a conscious stream; you could just lie back and let him, y'know... A little sigh shivered from his mouth, and he glanced over his shoulder at Nate. He lay on his back, one arm folded behind his head, looking at the ceiling still, staring off at nothing in particular. MacCready reached out, hands moving on their own, pulling Nate's hand back against his body, rolling towards him, teeth almost chattering with nerves. “Okay. You're right.” he whispered, his eyes cast down to Nate's collarbone. “I did like it. You... I, uh... you wanna jerk me off? “Mmm,” Nate purred rolling towards him, “so romantic.” He smiled wryly, squeezing MacCready's hip. “Sure, Romeo. You feel like returning the favour?” “Uh...” Mac looked flustered, biting his lip, puffing his cheeks. “C'mon,” Nate pulled up close to MacCready, “y'know I won't tell anyone.” Mac shuddered, pressing the flat of his palm lightly, curiously, against Nate's crotch; Nate responded, digging his fingers softly into MacCready's bare skin, running his hand up the merc's flat, skinny stomach... and down, between his thighs, taking the head of his cock between thumb and forefinger, squeezing gently. MacCready shut his eyes, sighing, hesitantly unbuttoning Nate's pants and sliding his hand inside. Nate's dick was soft, and warm, and smooth, and as MacCready brushed his fingers against it, cautiously, his own dick twitched up hard in Nate's hand. Shit, this feels good. Nate murmured quietly, grinding against MacCready's palm, steady breathing hot against Mac's neck. He whispered; “Just tell me how much you want.” MacCready groaned. “I dunno, man, I … ah, I dunno.” He met Nate's eyes, swallowed, left them again. Nate nodded. “How's it feel?” His hand traced gently, small circles, soft sweeps. “You still like it?” Mac laughed under his breath. “It feels pretty good.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. Better than I... I mean-” Nate's eyes wrinkled at the corner, glinting mischievously. “Better than... you imagined?” Mac's cheeks coloured. “Been putting off thinking about it, I guess.” “Yeah, but you were thinking about it,” Nate teased, squeezing gently at MacCready's nuts, “'cause I just caught you with your hand in your pants.” MacCready laughed and nodded, rubbing his hand gently over Nate's hardening cock. “'Okay, maybe I was. Doesn't mean I want you listening in. A man deserves a little privacy.” Nate dug his fingers behind Mac's hip, and dipped his mouth to the merc's shoulder, kissing softly along the bone and feeling him shiver, grunting slightly as Mac tightened his grip. “Don't try gimme that, Bobby. you were whacking off half a foot away from me...” He skimmed his mouth down to MacCready's nipple, flicking slowly with his tongue, breathing hot against the merc's skin. “...and I even offered to go outside...” MacCready gave a short, nervous giggle, clasping the back of Nate's head with his free hand. “...but I think...” He pushed his hips forward firmly, the tip of his dick sliding through MacCready's fingers, and Nate wrapped his hand tight around the merc's cock, jerking him slowly. “...I think you were waiting for me to catch you.” MacCready bit his lip, curling his fingers in Nate's hair, and whispered: “I think you might be right.”

#fallout 4 #kinktober #smut season #maccready #sole survivor #caught jerkin' it #I wrote this

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allisondraste · 5 years

Text

Temperance (24/?)

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Story Summary: Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden’s Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.

Chapter Summary: Fergus get’s married, and Liss tries to cope with Nathaniel’s absence.

First Chapter Previous Chapter [AO3 LINK]

Highever, 9:23 Dragon

Dear Nate,

I have been sitting at my desk, staring at this blank parchment for hours now, trying to figure out what to say. It’s weird, writing letters. Planning my words carefully is not exactly a skill of mine. It’s hard for me to write an entire conversation without being able to see your face. How am I supposed to know that I am being ridiculous if you aren’t here to roll your eyes at me?

If you were here right now, I’d just skip the words and hug you. Too bad I can’t send a hug with this letter.

How is Starkhaven? Mama’s been there before. She says it’s beautiful, and quite a lot different from Ferelden. Do they really eat fish pie there? It sounds absolutely disgusting, but you know I’d try it at least once. I’ve been reading about the Vael family, too, but I am certain that you don’t want to read pages of me going on about Amadis Vael and the Ruby Drakes who aided the Grey Wardens during the Fourth Blight , so I’ll just leave it at that. (She was really amazing, though. You should read about her sometime!)

Fergus’ wedding is today. Actually, I probably should be running around like a headless chicken just like everyone else, getting ready. I am just not that excited about it. Don’t get me wrong, Oriana is wonderful, and I am so glad my brother has someone who loves him and makes him happy, but it just reminds me that I’m alone. It’s not as if I want to be married any time soon, or even ever. That’s not a priority of mine, but it would be nice to think that someone might love me like that someday.

Last summer, I almost thought— well, never mind what I thought. It doesn’t matter now. You’re gone, and any feelings you might possibly have for me are gone with you. I just wish we had actually had time to talk about the kiss and what it meant. I tried and tried to tell myself that it was just some stupid, drunken thing, but that’s not true, at least not on my end.

Nate, I think I’m in love with you. I’ve tried everything I can think of to explain my feelings, but none of it makes sense. I think I’ve loved you for a really long time, and didn’t realize it because it’s not like the love I’ve read about in stories. It’s not some grand, magical thing. It’s not anything I thought love was supposed to be. I’m still not sure how to explain it, but it hurts, especially now that you’re not here. It’s like a part of me is missing. It’s stupid, I know, but that’s the truth.

I don’t expect you to feel the same way about me. Please don’t think that. I just think that I might actually explode if I hold all of these feelings inside. I thought I owed it to myself to be brave and tell you. I thought you should know.

Really, what I want to say most, is that I miss you. Summer just isn’t the same without you here. I hope that you are faring better than I, and that you learn a lot during your training. I know you didn’t want to go, but I am still envious of you. Maybe one day, when you come back to Ferelden — if you come back to Ferelden— you can tell me all about it.

Love,

Liss

Liss folded the parchment, slid it in an envelope, and sealed it with a wax stamp as quickly as she could. Before someone could read what she wrote. Before she could change her mind. She could, of course, still shred the letter or drop it in the fireplace. That was the good thing about letters: Until they were sent, you could always take back the words you wrote. She didn’t think she would. As much as the thought of telling Nate she loved him terrified her, the thought of not telling him terrified her more.

A tear dropped from her chin to land on the polished wooden surface of her desk. She had done so well, too, making it through the entirety of the letter without crying all over the parchment. She wiped at her eyes and cheeks with the backs of her hands, attempting to scrub away the evidence of her broken heart, but they just kept coming. Stupid heart. Stupid eyes. Stupid tears.

A knock at the door stiffened her back and she worked even harder to hide the fact that she’d been crying.

“Y-Yes,” she muttered, “Come in.”

The door creaked open behind her and she looked over her shoulder to see her father, dressed in his formal attire. His greying hair was combed and styled handsomely. Despite being so polished, his expression was haggard as it always was when Liss did something bothersome. This time, it was probably just her red eyes and swollen nose.

“My girl, what in Thedas is the matter?” His voice resonated with concern as he moved closer to look at her face as if he would find the answer written on her forehead.

“I miss Nathaniel,” she said, standing and turning to face him, pressing her lips together to keep them from quivering. She held the envelope between her fingers and extended it out to him. “I was just… writing him a letter.”

“I know you care for Nathaniel, and that it’s been difficult for you since he left,” he answered gently, but the irritation was evident in his voice, “But Fergus’ wedding will start in just over an hour. Don’t you think it could have waited until later?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t.“

He laughed and smiled sympathetically as he took the letter from her hand and tucked it into his coat. “All right, pup,” he said, kissing her forehead, “I’ll take your word for it. I’ll send it out first thing in the morning.”

“Thank you, Papa,” she mumbled, “I’ll go get ready now.”

Liss turned to wander away and get ready, when Papa called out to her again.

“Liss,” he said and she stopped to look back at him.

“Mhmm?”

“I’m sure that you already know this, but your mother asked me to remind you—“

“I know Arl Howe is here,” she interrupted, “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything to him. I’d actually rather pretend he isn’t here.”

“Well, you can’t blame us for being concerned.” He sighed. “You have a history of… saying whatever comes to mind.”

“I will be on my best behavior,” she promised, meeting her father’s gaze directly to show him she was serious.

“Please do,” Papa said, almost a plea, “If not for mine and your mother’s sake, for Fergus’ and Oriana’s.”

Liss nodded, kissed him on the cheek, and he exited the room. He closed the door gently behind him, leaving her to make herself presentable. If she could not engage in outward protest of Rendon Howe’s presence at the wedding after he ripped Nathaniel from their family, she would at least refuse to let him get to her. He would not have the gratification of seeing her upset.

Of course, it was easy to tell herself that he wouldn’t bother her, and another thing entirely to see his beady-eyed arrogance as he walked into the Chantry with Thomas and Delilah at his side. Liss had not expected her reaction to be so staggering and visceral, and she’d never wanted to spit in someone’s face as much as she did that slimy weasel of a man. Maker help her if he attempted to flaunt his preferred son about in front of her face like some sort of twisted consolation prize.

Delilah, pretty as a flower, long dark hair braided elegantly, waved at Liss subtly from across the room, and Liss returned the gesture. At her side, Thomas stood stiffly, all of the color washed from his handsome face, dark eyes sunken in and hollow. Liss pitied him. It was difficult to imagine the pressure he was under as his father’s heir. Nate once told her about how Tom had the hardest time handling their father, and how he’d been drinking a lot. She imagined things had only gotten worse without his big brother.

The ceremony was lovely, even more so than Liss would have imagined, elaborate Antivan decorations brightening up the drab Fereldan chantry hall. Liss focused her attention on the front of the room where her brother stood, fidgeting nervously and wiping at the corners of his eyes as he looked at Oriana. He seemed so grown up in all of his finery that it was hard to believe he was the same person as the clunky boy Liss had always known. He was a proper man now, and she was so proud of him. She turned to see both of her parents smiling, sniffling, and blotting tears from their eyes while Fergus and Oriana promised, before their families, friends, and the Maker himself, that they would love one another forever.

Liss hoped, with everything she had, that they could.

The formal ceremony concluded with the newly married couple’s kiss, and the attendees filed out of the Chantry in a hurry, most likely ready to return to the castle, where a feast was to be had. Liss was in no such hurry and meandered about slowly behind the crowd. She wasn’t exactly hungry, and the idea of a large hall full of rowdy people and loud music was not as appealing to her as it typically would have been. When she reached the castle, chatter already rang out into the courtyard, where several of the guests stood about gossiping.

Several pairs of unfamiliar faces examined her as she approached. It was rude, but she smiled at them nonetheless. When she walked past, she could hear them whispering behind her. Lies and nonsense spread about after her dance with Nathaniel last year. She could not count the number of rumors her parents had to discount since then. Rumors that she was betrothed to Thomas and having an affair with Nathaniel. Rumors that she danced with Nathaniel as a cover for her secret relationship with a servant. Rumors that Liss was “promiscuous,” and Nathaniel was just one of a long list of romantic conquests. Rumors that Nathaniel was a troubled young man who took advantage of her, and that’s why he was sent away the very next year. Liss wasn’t certain that Nate’s father hadn’t concocted every last one of them himself.

It all infuriated Liss so much she thought she might catch on fire, her hands tightening into fists at her sides as she bit her tongue and held her breath to keep from turning and giving the noble arseholes a piece of her mind. It made her sick to think that grown men and women had nothing better to do than spread vile, hateful rumors about people more than half their age, about children. She tried to remember what Papa had told her when she’d first heard them. “Anyone who matters, knows better than to believe this nonsense, and anyone who believes it doesn’t matter.”

She managed to keep her nose down and make it past the gossipers and through the gates into the main hall without incident. She realized she probably shouldn’t have kept her nose down for so long when she bumped directly into another person. She looked up, prepared to apologize, and her blood ran cold.

“You shouldn’t walk with your head down, Lady Cousland,” said Arl Howe in a voice that sounded as if it came more from his nose than from his mouth, “It is unbecoming.”

She would show him unbecoming, she thought, but knew better, and painted on an apologetic smile on her face instead. “Forgive me, my lord. I am afraid my brother inherited all of the good manners.”

“It seems that is the case in every family,” he replied with a hateful grin, pausing to watch as Liss attempted to not show her discomfort, and then continued, “Nathaniel sends his regards.”

“What would I care for his regards, my lord,” she asked, through her teeth.

“It is my understanding that you two were close,” he explained with more than a little insincerity.

“We were.” Liss fought back the tears in her eyes and the rage in her chest.

“And yet, you don’t care for his regards?” He quirked up an eyebrow at her.

“No, my lord,” she stated, cooly, “I don’t. Not from you.”

Arl Howe flinched, opening and closing his mouth a few times. He had clearly not expected her to be so bold. If she were honest, she hadn’t either and instantly regretted her decision. There would be no taking it back. Panic swelled in her stomach and flushed her face, and then a hand fell gently on her shoulder.

“My apologies, Arl Rendon,” a silvery, voice Liss knew to be Oriana’s rang out, “I need to borrow Lady Elissa for a bit. Family business and such.”

Liss turned to look at the woman whose gaze was locked on the arl’s, a beautiful and sincere smile painting her face. Then she shifted her gaze back to Arl Howe, who narrowed his eyes.

“By all means,” he muttered and waved them away with a dismissive flip of his hand.

“Come on,” Oriana said to Liss, motioning to the door that led to the gardens with her head.

They walked arm in arm to the gardens, Oriana smiling and waving graciously at guests as she passed by, stopping just a few times to thank a few people who congratulated her. She was perfect and elegant and everyone loved her in a way that made Liss know she was made to be the Teyrna of Highever. She’d never felt more thankful for “family business,” in her life, whatever it was.

When they reached the gardens, Oriana released Liss’ arm and turned to face her, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“Mhmm.” Liss nodded absently and looked around for the other members of her family before looking back at Oriana. “What is the family business.”

“There is none,” she replied with a wink, “I just wanted to get you away from that horrible man. Are you certain that you are all right?”

Liss wanted to tell her she was fine, that she had just had an uncomfortable exchange with the arl, and that it was not a big deal. She didn’t want to burden Oriana with her own stupid problems on her wedding day. She should be inside with Fergus, having fun eating and drinking, celebrating their marriage. She shouldn’t be out in the gardens consoling her husband’s pathetic little sister.

She wanted to do all of those things, but she could not keep the hot tears from pooling in her eyes under Oriana’s concerned gaze. She couldn’t stop them from falling down her cheeks, and dripping from her chin. So she shook her head slowly. “No,” she said hoarsely, “I’m not.”

“Oh, poor girl,” she said sweetly and pulled Liss into a protective sort of embrace with one hand in her hair, “I am sorry I did not get to you sooner.”

Unable to hold back the flood of emotions any longer, especially with the other woman’s overt sympathy, Liss wrapped her arms around her and sobbed as Oriana raked gentle fingers through her hair, occasionally reassuring her that everything would be okay. Liss eventually calmed down enough to pull away from Oriana and apologize.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sniffing, “You shouldn’t be… it’s your wedding and—”

“Nonsense,” Oriana interrupted affectionately, “We are sisters now. Family. We take care of one another, yes?”

“I, um…” Liss trailed off, too flustered and appreciative to form coherent words, “Thank you.”

Oriana took her hand and led her over to one of the stone benches that sat before the fountain centerpiece. She sat down and motioned for Liss to join her.

“I have heard the lies these people speak about you, Elissa,” she began, staring out at the water glistening in the fountain, “They have made similar claims about me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Anything to destroy my relationship with Fergus, to make him question me.” Oriana closed her eyes and laughed. “Did you know that I am secretly the black sheep of a wealthy Antivan family, who paid your father handsomely to take me off of their hands?”

“They said that about you?”

“It is easier for them to believe than the truth, which is that Fergus fell in love with a commoner.”

“That’s so—” Liss began, but paused when she realized her voice had grown too loud in the excitement— “Stupid.”

“They are small people, Elissa. Insignificant. Their tiny little minds cannot understand anything beyond power and wealth. That Rendon Howe is the worst.”

“I hate him,” Liss spat.

“Me, too,” Oriana agreed, sighing and shifting a bit where she sat. She was silent for several moments and then a smile twitched on her lips. “It feels good to say that out loud.”

Liss giggled in agreement, and then looked at Oriana more seriously. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

“It is nothing, honestly,” Oriana said with a laugh, waving her hand vaguely.

“I am glad you are part of our family.”

Oriana smiled gently. “I can’t imagine a better family to be a part of.”

Footsteps rustled through the grass several feet away, and Liss snapped her had in the direction of the noise, only to see Fergus grinning from ear to ear.

“Oriana, love, everyone’s been asking where you’ve—” he stopped when he noticed Liss— “Liss?”

“Surprise,” Liss said dryly.

Fergus narrowed his eyes and stared at her much as Papa had done earlier, and she began to wonder if she really did have answers written on her forehead. “You’ve been crying?”

“I always cry.”

“Not like this, you don’t.” He knelt down and placed his hands on her shoulders. “What happened, Liss? Was it those damned rumors again?”

Liss nodded, tears coming back to her eyes.

“Who?” Fergus’ tone was more serious than she could recall ever recall it being. “I will kick their arses out so fast, Liss, just say the word.”

“Nobody I recognized,” Liss explained quickly, as touched by her brother’s protectiveness as she was alarmed, “It was just a lot, and then I ran into Arl Howe… literally.”

“Shit, sis.”

“He was not pleased, but I apologized, and I did so well…”

“But?”

“He told me that Nathaniel sent his regards,” she answered sheepishly.

Fergus sighed. “And you told him where to shove them, didn’t you?”

“Basically,” she admitted, but immediately added, “I was so angry it just slipped out. Luckily Oriana showed up before anything else happened.”

“And thank the Maker for that,” he said, eyeing his wife with admiration before turning back to Liss, “Sadly, Howe is probably the only person whose arse I can’t kick out tonight, or I would.”

“I know,” she replied before frowning playfully, “Now go back and enjoy your party. Both of you.”

“Only if you come with us,” Oriana chimed in and Fergus nodded.

Liss feigned a sigh, and relented. She would not let Arl Howe or an army of rumors get the better of her. They were small and insignificant, especially with her family by her side.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age awakening #nathaniel howe #nathaniel howe x cousland #cousland #howesland #temperance #my writing #update #GOT STARTED OUT WITH A BANG #L-WORD BEFORE THE CUT WHAT

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vipclifford · 5 years

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Fireflies and Make-Believe

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Nothing was charming about the small town Calum had been exiled to. He didn’t like the small diner his pessimistic uncle Drew ran, the persistent smell of grease driving Calum up the walls. His uncle’s studio apartment sat right above it, a measly twenty-four metres squared room with a tiny bathroom tucked into the corner. The constant buzzing from downstairs since the early hours of the morning was enough to make Calum go insane.

Leaving the two-storey building was the worst mistake Calum had ever made. All the villagers looked at the man with question in their eyes, hushed whispers shared between them as they tried to figure out who he was. Clearly nobody seemed to stop by the town often, which didn’t surprise Calum since there was nothing interesting to do. There were only around three restaurants, including his uncle’s 50s themed diner, but he didn’t want to draw even more attention to himself by sitting alone. He was told there was a movie night each friday in their makeshift cinema, but they only played the scratched DVDs from the public library. Apparently, every so often the townspeople gathered at the square for an event the mayor organised, but his uncle’s words didn’t portray these in the best light. Perhaps because he detested the mayor with a passion, or because they were genuinely bad. Calum thought it might be both.

Drew usually needed a helping hand at the diner so Calum didn’t really have much time to explore the town. His inability to cook predisposed him to become a waiter, the only highlight of his not so voluntary work being the tips he received.

The other highlight was the girl who drank way too much coffee. She was there every morning for breakfast, occasionally popping in during the evening to grab a burger. A book was always in her hands, ranging from Jane Austen novels to Michael Morpurgo. The girl always gave him a cute little smile that he couldn’t help but return when she walked through the door. She was also quite pretty, not that he had noticed.

“That’s Y/N,” said Luke, the friendly waiter at the diner, after he had noticed Calum staring. He immediately snapped his attention back to the black coffee he was pouring into white mugs, pretending he never even realised she was there.

“Who?”

“You know exactly who,” Luke chuckled, wrapping an arm around his coworker’s shoulders. He quickly shrugged it off. “She just graduated from Yale. Journalism, I’m pretty sure. Heard she wanted to spend her last summer here in Hurstford before going off to live life in the city.”

“Good for her,” Calum muttered monotonously, walking over to the stoves to make some pancakes. The blonde followed, amused with his behaviour. He leaned against the wall, watching him struggle on his first pancake before taking over.

“Not that you care, but I heard she pops into Nate’s on Friday nights,” Luke informed the brunette with a wink. Calum rolled his eyes, arms folding over his chest, his reaction making Luke laugh. “It’s a bar on the left side of town. Most people around our age like to go there, including myself, so if you’re into making new friends for the time you’re in Hurstford, I can definitely introduce you to people,” he offered with a small smile. “Or you can chat Y/N up. Your choice mate.”

“I don’t fancy Y/N,” Calum huffed, stacking the pancakes Luke made neatly onto a plate.

“We’ll see after we get a couple drinks in you.”

Drew had pushed him out the doors after his second week secluded in his uncle’s apartment, telling him it was “unnatural for a twenty-three-year-old to lock themselves up all summer” and to “go do whatever young people do at the weekend.” Thousands of things ‘young people did’ flashed through Calum’s mind in an instant, although he knew his uncle meant to go to Nate’s.

Walking down the empty roads was when Calum finally felt bliss. No strangers greeted the man they now recognised as the moody worker at the diner. Sodium lampposts lit the streets in a yellowish glow as though they were trying to replicate sunlight, something he didn’t realise he craved. He missed how peaceful silence was, and just how therapeutic it was to be alone with your thoughts every once in a while. He thought that maybe he would start up running again in the early morning, just before the average person gets out of bed. When the streets were still bare.

The bar was easy to spot when it finally came into view. A small crowd stood outside with drinks and cigarettes in their hands, enjoying the warm weather. The sound of chatter and 90s hits could be heard from twenty metres away. He walked into the premises cautiously, slowly making his way through the room as he searched for a head of golden curls.

“You came!” Luke grinned, appearing suddenly behind Calum. The two men chuckled after Calum visibly jumped, not expecting Luke to be behind him. It was strange to see the blonde out of his work clothes and dressed up, the usual off white apron with stains all over replaced by a bright red shirt. It suited him. Luke wrapped an arm around his shoulders, dragging Calum towards a table at the back of the bar. Four pairs of eyes snapped to him in confusion.

“This is Calum. We work together.” Everyone nodded in understanding at Luke’s clarification as Calum sat down on the metal chair, mentally cringing at the uneven legs. “That’s Ashton, Michael, Caitlin and Summer,” He introduced, smiling when the dark haired girl pulled him in for a kiss. Calum nodded along although he had already forgotten their names.

“Hey,” he spoke with a tight-lipped smile, hand raising awkwardly in a small wave. A low chorus of greetings followed shortly after.

Waves of questions about him and how he ended up in Hurstford washed over Calum, who answered as vaguely as he could muster. He didn’t want to share things about himself with strangers he’d forget in a couple months. He didn’t want to become acquainted with villagers. He wanted to be in Los Angeles getting drunk and high every night like he had planned.

He leaned back on the chair when everyone diverted into their own conversations, analysing the room. Unpainted brick walls had large posters of Elvis Presley hung on every corner, small pictures of other artists filling the gaps between them. Tables were scattered unevenly through the room, leaving the far right and centre untouched. A row of slot machines and dart boards stood on the right hand side. People crowded around the jukebox and pool table, desperate to have a turn. The middle of the room seemed to be reserved for dancing. Groups of friends and couples pressed against each other together, jumping to the beat of the music. On the outskirts stood Y/N.

Her hand held what looked like a glass of vodka and cola, although he could never be sure. She was bouncing to the beat of the music with her friends, careful not to spill her drink but still wanting to let loose for the night. A small smile stretched his lips as he watched the girl whip her hair, not caring about how she looked. Calum had to physically restrain himself from from picturing what it would look like to have her dark red lipstick staining his neck.

A shoulder pushed into Calum’s, his annoyed look being met by Luke’s knowing one, eyebrows raised. He had been caught red handed.

“Don’t fancy Y/N, huh?” Luke chuckled.

“Can’t fancy someone I don’t know,” he countered, bringing the glass of beer to his lips. The blonde shook his head, curls bouncing at the movement.

“Guess we should do something about that,” he grinned.

Luke stood up suddenly, dragging the brunette and who Calum presumed was his girlfriend with him on his way to the dance floor. He felt his chest constrict with anxiety as he watched the blonde approach the girl he did not fancy. Calum watched as she wrapped Luke’s girlfriend up in a hug, shooting a friendly smile at Luke. He watched as she chuckled at whatever words he spoke, eyes crinkling with nothing but joy. Calum yearned to always see that expression on her face.

“This is Cal,” Luke introduced, pointing at the man as he wrapped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist. “He’s new to town, might’ve seen him around at Drew’s.”

Y/N began to nod, a look of realisation washing over her features as she smiled at Calum.

“I knew I recognised you,” she grinned, giving Calum a quick hug. He was taken aback by the suddenness of the action, still not accustomed to the friendliness of the townspeople. It only lasted around a second, yet it left him wanting more. “I’m Y/N,” she told him with a smile.

“Nice to meet you.”

Calum hated small talk. He hated the forced questions and uninterested replies. He hated the many awkward silences in between. He hated how slowly time seemed to pass. But there was none of that with Y/N.

Conversation flowed easily between the two, almost not leaving any room for breath. Time flew by, Calum not even realising the minute Luke and his girlfriend walked away. He learned about her passion for writing over the drink he bought her, and her dream of living in New York City. He learned that her music taste was very different to his, surprisingly making the girl appear more intriguing in his eyes.

He wasn’t sure of how they got to her doorstep, didn’t even realise when they left the bar, too consumed by her presence and chat. He was sure he didn’t want their night together to end, something inside of him urging Calum to spend more time with her.

Instead he told her ‘good night’ and walked slowly down the empty roads, a small smile on his lips as he thought of the girl who dreamed of New York.

Tags: @aftermidnightclifford @alongcamethedevil @5sobsessed

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theawkwardterrier · 5 years

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things left behind and the things that are ahead, ch. 10

AO3 link here

Drea is the only one of his kids who Steve successfully gets into baseball. Rosie at age six tells him seriously that she has other, more important things to do than watch grownup men get excited about a ball, Em sits patiently through a couple of games that she clearly has no interest in, and Nate, when offered a chance to visit the ballpark for the first time at five years old says, "If you would be happy about it," in such a sweet, guileless way that Steve chokes up and tells him right away to forget about it. (Peggy is only too happy to have him look for someone else to bring - while she knows the rules by now and has watched a few games herself, he thinks that she'd have happily abdicated her seat to any passerby who wanted it. It's fine: she once tried to explain the rules of cricket, and he thinks he might still be comatose.)

But Drea loves it enough for all the rest of them, collecting cards, scanning the sports section each morning as the season approaches, and talking statistics like they're her second language. Nothing much has changed for her since they moved to Maryland: she has a group of boys to trade cards with, her best friends even as she enters junior high, and she's still a solid early choice in a schoolyard or street pickup game.

Steve's too cheap to shell out for Orioles season tickets - they live closer to DC, so getting to Baltimore is less convenient especially for weeknight games, but he's pretty sure that Washington loses their team sometime soon and he doesn't want his daughter getting attached and going through the same heartbreak he did - but he makes sure to take her to a few games a season, just the two of them.

It's a beautiful May Sunday, and the Orioles have just absolutely trounced Kansas City. Steve tosses their hot dog wrappers in the trash on the way out - four of his, one of Drea's - and wraps his arm around her, kissing the top of her baseball cap-covered head as they join the chattering crowd on the way back to their car.

"That was a great game," he says. "I think the O's have a good chance of making the series this year, huh?"

"I'm not very much like other girls, am I?"

It's more momentum than anything that keeps Steve walking. "What do you mean?" he asks carefully, looking down at her. The brim of her cap blocks him from seeing her face, but her shoulders hunch a little under his hand.

"I'm not like Mom," she says. "Or like Emma."

"Well that’s good, because I don't know if I could handle two Emmas. We'd never be able to finish all the desserts." Steve jokes. "And it would be a pretty big coincidence if you were like Mom." Everyone in town is used to the Carters by now, but when they had moved down from New Jersey five years ago, the variation in looks between the children and their lack of similarity to either parent had brought reactions ranging from pity to outright disdain.

"That's not what I mean." Drea starts to walk a little faster, even knowing that her dad can keep up. Her words come out in small, breathless bursts, and Steve aches a little at the bravery it is taking her just to keep speaking them. "It’s just...they know about girl stuff. Mom knows when to wear fancy gloves and pearls and it never looks weird, and Emmy just knows how to talk with other girls. They understand everything without even trying. They like this stuff. The only stuff I like is boy stuff."

"Hey," he says, pulling her to the side of the crowd so he can stop and bend to face her. He peers into the shadow beneath her ball cap, finding her jewel-dark blue eyes. "You're a girl. Anything you like is girl stuff."

She turns away from him. "Yeah, okay."

"I know that Em is a certain kind of girl—" Emma has already requested her own set of mixing bowls for Christmas. Practically the only time she wears pants is in the garden. She used to spend entire afternoons pouring “tea” for a dozen dolls and stuffed animals, signing politely to them as she sipped with an extended pinky. "But your mom put up with a lot during the war, and even now there are plenty of people who say that she isn't doing the things a woman should do. And what about Rosie? She doesn’t exactly fit into a box."

"It's different for me than it is for Rosie." That she says it simply, without a sigh or a teenage eyeroll, makes him sad. Even sadder than that: she's right. As much as he doesn't want it to be, it is different for her than it is for Rose, or Emma, or even Peggy.

"Okay," he says. "You're different than some girls. But that doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong. And I would hate for you to change the way you are or the things you love just because you felt that you had to fit in.” He tries to smile. “Besides, Bucky and the family are coming to visit over the summer and I promised them a good time, which means a trip to the ballpark with the two of us."

This time she does sigh, a tiny hiccup of not being entirely understood or at least of realizing that her father can't fix everything for her. "Yeah," she says again. "Okay."

Steve stands to his full height once again and hugs her against his side for a moment. He and Peggy have changed a lot, but there are some things even more stubborn than they are.

Tonight was supposed to be a date night with Steve, but there’s been a new FBI head for three, nearly four years now, and Peggy is only just getting around to inviting him and his wife for a collegial dinner engagement. Steve very sweetly said that he doesn't mind any of the time that he gets to spend with her, but she knows that this isn't exactly his idea of an enjoyable evening out. She'll have to remember to make it up to him.

"Which one?" she asks Drea, holding three dress options in front of herself. There's a deep, vivid scarlet number, a classic flared black, and a black and aubergine paneled silk with the tags still on.

Drea considers. "The red. Daddy likes it when you wear red."

"So he does." She strips off her robe and leaves it on the back of the chair as she slides the dress over her head, moving to the mirror to do up the last of the zip and smooth it over her hips. Peggy keeps herself fairly trim, but it's been a while since she wore this particular dress, and one never knows how things might have changed.

In the glass, she glimpses Drea, her black hair tangled and wild around her shoulders as always, her knees tented as she tucks nearly her whole narrow body into the white T-shirt she's wearing: one of Steve's undershirts, no doubt. Drea practically lives in them as it gets warmer. If it were prior to Lula-Cat's escape of the previous summer, the beast would surely be purring on the bed beside her favorite Carter, allowing herself to be petted as she got fur all over Peggy's clean pillowcases.

She is almost fourteen, Peggy realizes with a pang, and not only because her children are growing up even more quickly than she had expected. They will have another year of people plausibly believing her to be a late bloomer, perhaps not even that. She, Steve, Drea and her doctor have an appointment soon for a discussion, and Peggy makes a note to sit down Howard with as well. The little tools he's made for Emma - the vibrating clip for her swimsuit for when they go to the beach, the egg timer with its flashing lights - have been helpful, but the things he could make for Drea might be lifesaving.

As she moves to the vanity and fixes her face, traces on her vividly red lipstick with a practiced hand, thinks for a moment and adds pearl earrings and a simple crystal necklace which Steve gave her for their fifteenth anniversary, she fights to keep both the fear and calculation from her face. Drea already looks melancholy enough.

Peggy sits at the edge of the bed to put on her hose and her pumps. She is just about to get up and take in the final product when Drea says from beside her, "Mom, can you teach me how to put on makeup?"

Peggy pauses for just a moment, then asks, "What brought this on?" She allows only a tiny amount of surprise into her voice. It would be unbelievable otherwise, but the true amount of shock she feels at the question would be insulting, would drive her daughter away.

"Some girls at school are starting to use it. And I—" Her voice falters a bit, then comes back stronger, perhaps too strong, as if she's given herself a stern lecture. "I think I should also know how."

"I think you're a bit young for it, and I'm not sure that 'because everyone else is doing it' is a particularly good reason," says Peggy, continuing over the beginning of Drea's protestations. "But if that's what you truly want, I can certainly give you a lesson or two." She sighs, perhaps a bit theatrically. "Goodness knows I'd have liked for Rosie to ask before she made her first attempts."

It works. Drea laughs a little, remembering Rose's early experiments with cheap drugstore eye makeup and vending machine lip color in a particularly revolting shade of tangerine that gave her a rash.

Peggy stands, smoothing her dress one final time and going over to the closet. She takes out a handbag, and riffles through Steve's tie hanger, selecting a red one which will match her dress and coordinate well with the gray suit she had watched him put on earlier.

"Are you ready?" Drea asks, her voice a bit less dispirited than it had been a few moments earlier, and Peggy nods and moves toward her. Drea spritzes the perfume precisely, two sprays that float in the air for Peggy to walk through. She had always touched on her own scent, a bit at each wrist and at her throat, and just a drop or two on a sachet in her brassiere, but then the children had come along, and now this was a particular tradition whenever one of them helped her get ready.

"Be good for Rose," Peggy says as she leaves the room, and Drea calls back, "If she's good to me."

Rose herself is sitting sprawled out in the doorway of her bedroom, scribbling into a notebook. She is in the midst of a hard-fought campaign for presidency of the upcoming senior class, and lately seems to have decided to plop herself down whenever an idea might catch her. Her legs aren’t long, even at the end of her growth spurt, but she’s positioned herself so they stretch out into the hallway and Peggy steps over them as she passes.

"Don't forget about bedtime," she reminds her eldest, and Rose makes a vague affirmative sound before she places a firm full stop at the end of whatever sentence she is writing and, stretching, looks up at her mother.

"What did you say?"

"Bedtime," Peggy repeats firmly. "Your siblings must adhere to it. As should you. I know that school is coming to an end, but it isn’t here yet."

"Fine," Rosie says with a wave of her hand, and Peggy knows that she'll see the bedroom light snap off just as they turn up the driveway. She starts on her way again (if Rose wants to develop poor sleeping habits, that is her responsibility) but then turns back.

"And be kind to your sister," she tells Rose, dropping her voice a bit. "I think she's having a hard time."

"I can make her a Surprise," Rose suggests, and Peggy shudders, and not just because of Rosie's notoriously poor cooking skills. Drea is the only one of the children with clear memories of her birth parents - she was five when they were killed in a fire while out for their anniversary dinner. One of the things she remembers most clearly is the multitude of casseroles her birth mother made: Hamburger Surprise, Tuna Surprise, Potato Surprise... Peggy has no doubt that they were as ordinary, or perhaps as lackluster, as any example of such a dish, but Drea had built them up in her mind, built them up for Nate, who had no memories of their parents, such that she had spent her childhood requesting various types of Surprises for birthday meals or following an especially good report card.

Steve has turned into a good cook and with Emma at his side they can turn out almost anything, but a Surprise has never been Peggy’s idea of fine cuisine.

"Supper is already being taken care of," Peggy says, adding the thankfully for you only mentally. She can smell Sam's Cornbread in the oven now, can hear the airy silence downstairs, punctuated with little sounds that signify Steve refereeing a fight between Emma and Nate, likely about how much spice to add to the chili. "Just be nice to Drea."

"If she's nice to me," Rosie says, and Peggy refrains from lifting her eyes upward and asking why she had been given two daughters who were so similar and yet refused to realize it.

"Everyone's finished their schoolwork, but make sure that Nate’s book report ends up in his bag. And Emma is trying a new recipe for creamed Brussels sprouts - please tell everyone that they must at least taste it. Don’t simply take the whole pot and bury it in the garbage pail, and certainly don’t try to throw it in the woods the way you did the spinach," Peggy tells her shrewdly, but a new idea seemed to have struck and Rosie is back to her notebook again.

Peggy moves on. Rose has minded her siblings before, and Peggy doesn't want to be late to the dinner and cause an inter-agency incident; Howard would never let her hear the end of it. Besides, she and Steve will have an opportunity to discuss Drea in the car over - there comes a point where even a night away from the children is never truly away from the children.

Rosie lets Nate and Emma stay up for an extra half hour to cement herself as a Cool Older Sister. Once they're asleep, she knocks on Drea's door, barely waiting to be invited before she enters.

Drea is lying on her back on her bed, tossing a ball up and catching it.

"Be careful it doesn't hit your face," Rose says, hoping that it doesn't come out mean or bossy the way her words sometimes do when she's talking to Drea.

"It’s never happened to me before.” Drea doesn’t take her eyes off the ball. “Just because you’re still scarred from the Wiffle Ball Incident—”

“You said you wouldn’t ever mention that!” Rose comes in and closes the door all the way. “Ugh, just move over.” Drea groans as she sits up against the headboard, but she tucks her legs up to make room and Rosie takes a seat. “Look, I heard you asking Mom about makeup and stuff. Are people giving you trouble at school? Because I’ll give them a talking to if they are.”

“You’re not queen of the high school yet. No one has to just listen to you when you go blab in their face,” says Drea, jutting out her chin, although they both know that when Rosie gives someone a talking to, it not infrequently involves violence. (There had been a question about whether or not she was even allowed to run for the student council based on the number of detentions and suspensions on her record.)

“You’re my sister,” says Rose, setting her own chin. “And if someone’s making problems for you, I’ll take care of it.”

Despite herself, Drea laughs. “You sound like Jimmy Hoffa.”

“Maybe, but Mom would make sure that I covered my tracks better than he did.” Rose lies back across the bed, legs just long enough for her feet to still touch the floor. She turns her face, her hair fanned around her as she looks at Drea, curled up at the head of the bed. “You know I’m serious, right?”

“I know. But it’s not really someone in particular, it’s just...life.”

Rosie sighs. “Yeah.” She puts out her hand, and Drea scooches down to grasp it. “Life’s hard.”

Sarcasm is on the tip of Drea’s tongue - “Tell me more, oh wise one!” - but instead she stays quiet and holds her sister’s hand until their parents return.

Drea and Steve go with Bucky, Layla, and their kids to watch a blowout Orioles win during their vacation at the end of July - Drea cheers louder than anyone. In August, after they've returned from their own vacation, Peggy sits Drea down at the vanity and walks her a half dozen different beauty products, while Rose comments loudly from the bed. Just before school starts in September, Drea uses her allowance to get a flat iron and gives herself three burns learning how to use it.

The Orioles lose the Series to the Mets, and Drea starts wearing dresses for the first time since she was a child.

It won’t be any help, Steve realizes as she sits down across from him at the breakfast table, settling her skirt self-consciously, sitting up straight and crossing her ankles with awkward politeness, to remind her once more that she doesn’t need to do this. She has a good head on her shoulders, and she’s using it to process everything in the world that tells her otherwise. He remembers what Peggy has said about it, that she’ll come back to herself, she’ll come back to them, when she’s ready. So instead he says, “Hey, kid,” and when she looks up at him, he smiles and tells her, “there’s always next year, you know? Always another shot if we need it.”

And to his relief, she smiles back, the expression familiar, wild-edged and lovely, the same as it’s always been. Hello in there, he thinks.

“Yeah, Dad,” she says. “There’s always next year.”

More chapters here

#Steggy fic #Steggy #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #things left behind fic #probably nothing new next week while I do other fic prep

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vidkid20ssimblrlair · 5 years

Text

Episode 15: The Dinner (Part 1)

I can't remember the last time I dressed up. I was never the type. A black t-shirt, a nice pair of jeans, and some jewelry was my formal wear. Instead, I was sitting here in an itchy blue knit sweater and dress pants. I felt ridiculous.

"You look nice...for once," Matthew said sounding almost sincere.

I looked up to see Matthew. He wore a brown sweater, slacks, and glasses. He looked strangely normal. Like someone's douchey dad. He sat down one chair away from me at the end of the table. Too close for comfort for my liking. I turned my back to him ignoring him. As expected he wouldn't take such an insult quietly.

"You know this dinner is for you. I agreed to this," he said scowling. "Just so you know."

I scoffed. "Oh and I'm supposed to thank you or something? Fuck off."

"Well, getting along I see..."

We both looked up to see Madison standing over us now. She sat down between us. She looked different. Less boyish. She was all dolled up in a floral dress, earrings, and heels. Makeup adorned her face. It even smelled like she was wearing perfume. I caught myself staring at her in shock and looked away. Matthew, on the other hand, look like an idiot with his mouth hanging open. He was practically drooling.

"You look...well...um nice," I mumbled blushing. Too chicken shit to even look her way.

"Wow. Thank you, Vince," she said smiling.

"You look better than nice. You look beautiful," Matthew burst. He then looked over her shoulder and smirked at me. The smug bastard.

"Thank you, Matt. Very nice of you. You look nice as well actually. Both of you," she said studying us. "Those are nice sweaters"

"Yeah. Yeah. Where's Audrey?" I said waving her away.

"Always the gentleman," Matt scoffed. He pointed at the archway. "She's over there talking to Aaron."

I quickly spotted her and was completely taken aback. Gone were her jeans, messy hair, and blood-soaked oversized jackets. She was dressed to the nine's in a little red dress and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. No bandage in sight. She even had makeup on. She looked like an actual chick for once.

I caught her eye as I gaped at her like an idiot and she looked embarrassed looking away. I cringed staring at whatever I could to hide my own embarrassment, but I glanced over to see she was headed my way. I cursed under my breath and sat up with my back to her. When she stood over me I turned around as if I hadn't seen her.

"Hey. Sup! Didn't know you were there."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right."

"So um...you look...decent."

She shook her head and smirked. "Decent. Well, you look pretty decent yourself."

"So how's the head?"

She smiled and turned around. She pointed to a partially shaved head and in the back was stitches. "It's better. Said the stitches should be coming out soon.

"That great."

"Yeah, and I got a cool haircut out of it too. It's probably going leave a gnarly scar. It's going to be badass."

Madison chuckled. "Would you like to sit here, Audrey? I can move."

"No. I don't think so," she said cutting her eye at me and frowning. "I promised to sit next to Grace's tonight. Besides, I'll be right across from you."

She didn't utter another word. She nodded and took her place across the table next to Grace. The two exchanged pleasantries as Omar joined them. Her gaze making sure not to meet mine.

"Decent?" Madison reiterated. She laughed. "I hope she looks better than decent. I helped pick out her outfit and did her makeup."

"I think she looks lovely," Matt injected grinning stupidly.

I rolled my eyes at him choosing to keep my mouth shut. It was then I was greeted by two morons arguing behind me. Not loud enough to wake the dead or garner the attention of the rest of the room, but loud enough to get the attention of the three of us. We all turned around to see it was Nathan and Aaron. Both in grey suits bickering.

"You said once she was better, you would give me my letter. That was the terms of our agreement! Now she's better, so please give it to me!"

"I'll give it to you after dinner."

"No. I want it now. That letter is very dear to me."

He frowned searching around in his pockets. "Look, it's somewhere here. I just got to find..."

"You lost it?!"

I groaned. "Can you two shut the fuck up?"

"He has my letter," Aaron continued to whine.

"What letter?" Matthew inquired.

"I found a love letter in Aaron's room and decided to use it as an incentive..."

"More like blackmail!"

Matthew stared at the two of them looking utterly confused while Madison seemed amused watching them.

"Who's it from?" she asked completely enthralled. "Sounds romantic."

Nathan shrugged. "Some chick named Alex."

"Parker!"

"Oh, is that your wife?"

He sighed. "No. Just someone very dear to me."

Nathan then pulled a small letter out of his pocket and held it up. "Found it."

"Give it to me!"

Matthew seemed to be growing just as annoyed as me. "Just give him the letter already, Nate. Dinner will be starting."

"She must be really hot to be this hung up on a letter though," Nathan said cheekily. He held the letter up just out of the doctor's reach. "Come on give me the details. Is she hot?"

"Parker, please!"

He winked. "I'll give you a letter if you tell me."

"It was a he! A ‘he’! Are you happy now?! I loved him and that letter was the last thing he gave to me. Now please give it here and leave me be!" he cried loudly.

Everyone seemed to hear him and froze. The room grew completely silent. Matthew and Maddison looked stunned. Nathan stood wide-eyed and held out the letter looking dazed. The doctor snatched it glaring at all of us.

“Thanks a lot,” he snarled. He stuffed the note in his suit pocket and stormed up the stairs. His face a mask of anger.

Nathan stammered. “Wait. Aaron..I..I..”

Lin stood in the doorway with a glass in her hand. She took a drink and smirked. “Well, this is an interesting dinner already.”

Wade then entered the room. He joined us at the table and sat down next to Nathan looking like a country hick straight out of the 70s in his formal attire.

"Hey, I just ran into Aaron in the hall. He looked pissed. Did I miss something?" he perplexed.

"You missed everything and nothing", Lin cooed sitting down next to him.

"I don't know what the hell that means, but did you have anything to do with you huh?" he asked leaning over to Nathan. He smirked. "You look like you lost a bet and some, boy."

"Wade...now is not the time," Nathan mumbled looking utterly miserable with a full glass of wine beside him.

"Leave him alone, Wade," Lin said rasing to her feet. "He a wounded animal who stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. You know how that feels right? Being an animal and all."

"Oh, real funny. A real comedian you are," he huffed as he watched silver tongue Lin slink away.

The awkwardness of earlier dissipated and our host, Mr. Jones entered the room garnering everyone's attention. The only remnants left was Nathan's unusually quiet and sadden demeanor. Then there was Audrey making it a point to ignore me again despite sitting across from each other. She talked gleefully with Grace and even sprung up a conversation with DJ at some point as dinner was being served. In fact, both DJ and Tao seemed to be all over her fighting for her attention. Pretty typical for young little dudes, but I couldn't help but be annoyed as she chatted with him as if I wasn't there.

"Vince... Vince!"

"What?!"

"The least you can do is answer me," Lin spat. "I'm trying to serve you, dickhead."

To my amazement, I was served three slices of roast meat. I look around to see the table with servings of food scattered about and plates in front of each individual. It was no giant feast, but I was pretty impressed. It almost looked like a dream. I picked up the fork ready to dig in. Not even paying attention to my surroundings, but Madison slapped my hand bringing me back to reality.

"Wait," she whispered pointing at the head of the table beside me where Mr. Jones now stood. "Prayer."

I bowed my head and closed my eyes as prayer was said. I don't think I’ve heard prayer or even had anything close to this in a while. The last time I had sat down for a proper family dinner was at my Mom's house for Thanksgiving. My daughter, Mya. My girlfriend and Mya's mom. Uncles. Aunts. Cousins. My grandmother. They were all there. All so vivid, but simply memories now. Would I ever see them again?

Once prayer was done, we all proceeded with dinner. I wasted no time digging into my plate while some took small bites cautiously. Things went pretty typical from there. A few laughs were shared. Lin teased Wade as usual. DJ and Tao took a break from fawning over Audrey to fling food at each other. Everyone just basically goofing off and chatting. It felt nice. It felt normal. It felt comfortable.

Mr. Jones stood up clearing his throat and the chatter died down. He beamed. "This has been quite an evening and it's all thanks to our two newest friends, Vince and Audrey."

"They didn't fill those bellies though," DJ joked loudly causing some to chuckle.

"Oh, hush you," his grandfather said smirking. "Now's let's go around the table. Each say something about ourselves."

"Yeah. How about our professions? I often wonder what the hell you all got up to before the dead took over," Madison said. "I know some of your stories, but not everyone. I'm especially curious about you, DJ."

"Being as fly as fuck was my job," DJ jested winking.

"Oh, give me a break," Jones moaned causing everyone to laugh again. He sat down in his chair and leaned over to me. "How about you, Mr. Martez?"

I stared at him at feeling beads of sweat form on my face.

"How about you go first?"

Previous Episode

All Episodes

Part 2 is next. More to be revealed and not the last you’ll see of an Aaron. Bringing back the vote/poll soon too. :)

#sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 Dead on Arrival #ts3 doa #sims 3 story #ts3 story #dead on arrival season 2 #doa season 2 #simblr #sims 3 simblr #ts3 simblr

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anonthenullifier · 6 years

Note

scarlet visions meeting the rest of the young avengers?

Hello! This one is quite a bit outside of my comfort zone as I do not write anything Young Avengers, but I’ll give it a shot. Side note: I did not include Vision/Jonas because, in my Scarlet Vision timeline/series I really have no firm idea how he would come to exist.

I hope you enjoy it!

“What do you think?”

Vision shifts his hips as he leans forward, heels tapping the side of the building they are sitting atop as he considers his wife’s question. The skirmish below has been persisting for almost twenty three and a half minutes, a time that is not unacceptable, per se, but also not impressive given the opponent is a low level necromancer with a small contingent of undead henchmen. He and Wanda could dispense of such foes in less than five minutes and forty five seconds (as the most conservative estimate) and that includes at least three brushes of his hand along Wanda’s back and one lost-in-the-moment kiss (they’re signature move, or so they have been informed). “They are a bit,” the sheer variety of flashing colors due to the powerful attacks is disorienting from up here, so he imagines it is far worse on the ground, which could be contributing to the overall fight, “discombobulated.”

“Yeah, they aren’t working together, like,” Wanda releases her grip on the thermos of hot chocolate, the air this high frigid, only part of the reason they are snuggled close, his cape and arm wrapped around her, and points a finger at the fight, “Tommy keeps breaking from the group to run, he knows better than that.”

A habit their son has been quite insistent on not breaking, even with various lessons of teamwork in the backyard. “I believe that could be slightly contributed to Billy working closely with,” the roster for the Young Avenger Initiative streams through his mind until he lands on the correct face, “Hulkling, perhaps Tommy is unable to apply our lessons to a group of three.”

“Billy does seem very comfortable with Teddy.” Her voice is identical to the way both Tony and Natasha would talk to him about Wanda, a long long time ago.

“I believe you set the rule we could not insinuate his relationship until he expressly informs us.”

Wanda bumps his shoulder, an action that requires barely any movement to be effective given their close proximity, “I don’t think they can hear us up here.” The hot chocolate hovers to her lips as they watch the continued attacks below, each action and movement unhelpfully independent from the others in the team. “Oh, Cassie’s growing.”

Stature, or so her file indicates is her preferred hero name, is gigantic yet again, but Vision cannot tell if the growth is strategic and purposeful or part of every hero’s experimentation (Wanda calls it a guessing game) with their newfound abilities. “Hawkeye has broken another window.”

“So when do we step in?”

Vision finds his shoulders rising and falling of their own accord as he runs through Captain Rogers’ instructions. “We were told to only intervene if there is a teachable moment, otherwise we must remain purely observational.”

“Well I’d say not working as a team is teachable,” something Vision wholeheartedly concurs with, “just have to wait for Nate to re-materialize from wherever he went.”

Iron Lad’s file is the densest of the group, a dizzying yet enjoyable puzzle Vision spent the afternoon studying, yet he still shares Wanda’s exasperation at watching the young man flicker and weave in and out of the fight. “How shall we proceed, once he returns?”

The thermos hovers again as her eyes squint, lips pursing in contemplation and the sight fills him with a comfortable, familiar warmth. “I say we go with a shield drop and then,” Wanda hums a little as she continues to watch the melee, body wiggling slightly while she cycles through the available attack patterns, “I’ll do a Scarlet burst while you take out the henchmen and we end with a Poltergeist.”

Her plan would certainly eliminate the threat, but, “That is quite dramatic.”

Wanda shrugs at this, “They’re more likely to remember something showy.”

A tactic they have occasionally fallen back on when training the boys, particularly for dull and repetitive drills. If they can demonstrate how the skill might lead to a full powered application, then the repetitiveness is suddenly deemed worthwhile. “Very well. Nathaniel is back.”

Vision stands first, hand reaching down to help Wanda up, her powers rearranging their observation tools into neat piles they can easily retrieve afterwards. Once Wanda is ready she turns towards him, the giddy grin on her face one she flashes him anytime they’re about to, in her words, kick some serious ass. She steps towards him, their bodies flush, a requirement of the maneuver, and her hands trace the vibranium clasp of his cape, “Remember, Maximoff, I’m not as young as I used to be.”

He wraps his arms around her waist, bending to place a kiss to her lips that accompanies his whispered promise, “I will be gentle.”

A synchronized, centering inhale and they exhale while stepping off the edge of the building, a scarlet concave shield forming underneath their feet, helping to even out the rush of air billowing his cape and her hair upwards. One minor turn of their bodies realigns them closer to the villain and that’s when he increases his density to speed up their descent, Wanda’s powers flowing more steadily in preparation of landing, and then, right at the last second, Vision goes incorporeal, depositing Wanda in a bubble of pulsating red on the ground as he phases through the cement. Based on visual data from their reconnaissance on the roof, he emerges precisely four feet from Wanda, hands phasing into the undead henchman within a millisecond of reappearing. In his periphery, as he phases and dismantles the lackeys, he can see the mesmerizing crackle of scarlet in the air and its reflection on the building, a technique meant to disorient a foe (and sometimes him, if he is not careful). Vision also intercepts chatter via his auditory processor some Wows a holy shit and then, a smile forming on his face at once again embarrassing his children, a plaintive and annoyed seriously from Billy and an unfortunate expletive from Tommy (which means yet one more lecture on language and perhaps mentioning the continued issue with Steve).

The density shifting assault continues until Wanda’s powers grow into an overwhelming frenzy, a long established cue for the next phase of the attack, the last henchman crumbling to the ground as Vision hovers, bringing his body horizontal and parallel to the ground. He flies directly towards his wife, phasing just as he reaches her, her body shivering at his passing through, and then he bursts from the cloud of scarlet, advancing on the necromancer and solidifying his body just in time to deliver a blow to the man’s chest, sending him backwards onto the ground. Scarlet ropes tether the man to the cement, Wanda sauntering up next to Vision, her hand dipping below his cape for a congratulatory squeeze, which kickstarts his body into an operantly conditioned response of turning towards his wife, his fingers tangling in her hair as he breathes in her essence, their mouths meeting and the world simply falling away.

Tommy’s irritated, “What are you doing here?” forces them to remember that they are here for a purpose.

A slow, easy step backwards angles Vision’s body towards the teens, their faces familiar from the files, their attributes and personalities clear in his head based on the stories the boys tell, but this is the first time meeting the members of the initiative. Half of them stand with arms crossed and perturbed stares, while the others form a spectrum from amused to curious to horrified (Billy, in this instance). “Captain Rogers assigned Wanda and myself to supervise your mission.”

Iron Lad, one of the arms-crossed cohort, and, from Vision’s understanding, the de facto leader, wades into the conversation. “Last I checked supervising’s not the same as intervening.”

“You are correct.”

Wanda’s hand brushes his shoulder, a tight smile on her face lets Vision know she wishes to handle the issue, and so he stops talking, acquiescing to her desire with a small nod. “We also had orders to step in if we felt you weren’t performing at your best.” She shrugs, it’s small, indifferent, but that is not the same as meek, the dismissive and authoritative tone of her voice setting the young heroes up to challenge her at their own risk, “You were nowhere near your best.”

The comment incites many displeased glares, a muttered bullshit from someone that better not have been Tommy, yet none of the young heroes immediately counter back. In the two second silence, Vision determines to utilize a softer approach meant to harmonize Wanda’s bluntness, a, as he has heard in the common lexicon, good-cop, bad-cop paradigm. “Why were,” Vision realizes they had not determined what to go by in the presence of Billy and Tommy’s compatriots, whether they remain causal with first names, go formal with Mr. and Mrs. Maximoff, or if they utilize hero names, for which his is no different than the casual but Wanda has some social distance. He determines to remain undecided and rely on pronouns and hand gestures to clarify the subjects of his sentence, “we able to subdue the foe far quicker than you?”

Cassie shrugs, gloved hand flinging out to the side to emphasize the obviousness of the response, “Because you’ve been heroes forever.”

A fair statement but not specific enough, so Vision tries the question from a more direct angle, “Though true, that is not sufficient to justify how we eliminated the threat in three minutes and thirty four seconds and you were unable to do so in the twenty eight minutes and fifty six seconds before our intervention.” The information might have a greater impact on them than Wanda’s prior words, if the increased gloom on their faces is an indication. “What actions did we take that differed from your own and thus contributed to our efficiency?”

“Listen,” Kate - or Hawkeye, as she has been passed the mantle from Clint, a surprise to everyone that it was not one of his own children to carry on the name (though that was a relief to Laura) - points her bow first at Vision and Wanda, “if I have to make-out with them,” the bow sweeps to the right to indicate the rest of the team, “to win a fight, I’m out.”

Sniggers follow her sardonic response, though Billy seems to be blanching at the turn in conversation, and then Cassie throws an arm over the archer’s shoulder, “You know I’m the best choice.”

“That,” Vision glances at Wanda, receiving an unhelpful shrug as the teens in front of them begin arguing over who would be the ideal makeout partner to end a fight, “that is not the,” the thing with having twin boys is that there is always arguing over which, sometimes, unfortunately, one must raise a voice to get attention back. What Vision failed to consider is the amplification of distracted chatter that would occur with numerous individuals of this age. “Wanda?”

A scarlet spark erupts in the middle of the group with a, “Pay attention.” The only two that look somewhat remorseful are Hulkling and Iron Lad, but at least the rest are quiet, mostly. “Making out has only ever won us three, maybe four fights. Plus,” a warning rings in her voice as Wanda moves her gaze across each of their faces, “only consensual making out during and after fights.”

“I-” Vision nods, trying to follow-up the comment but insteads cycles back to the original, “Yes, thank you. What tactical difference was there between your fight and ours?”

Being an Avenger has been Vision’s full-time job from his creation, one he has considered leaving, on occasion, but can never fully commit to such an enormous change. In this moment, with the silence thickening as elongated seconds pass and the group in front of him all seem interested in everything but him, he determines being a teacher is not in his future, his fingers growing antsy at the continued hush. But then Teddy meets his eyes, an unsure but hopeful smirk on his face as he raises his hand, “Yes, Hulkling?”

“Um, well, Vis- Mr. Maximoff?” At least he is not alone in his uncertainty of names, “Maybe we could have been more,” he lifts his hands, starting them far apart and swooping them until they meet, fingers clasped, “together in our attacks?”

Wanda sends them all a beaming, proud smile, “Yes, your teamwork and cohesiveness needs a lot of work.” Her arm loops through Vision’s, tugging him towards her until their sides are touching, “We trained over and over and over again on coordinated attacks, studied each others powers-”

A quiet, “And mouths,” comes from the archer but Wanda keeps moving without acknowledgement.

“It is rare that one person alone eliminates a threat.” She pauses, emphasizing the fact. “Figure out how to be a unit and you won’t have to be saved by us again.”

The words may sink in, they may not, none of the individuals in front of them betray their thoughts, until Iron Lad nods, lips arching downwards in thought. “I think we,” he turns to his teammates, “should go work on that.”

A chorus of sures and okays go along with the decision as the group starts to leave, Billy and Tommy hanging back, clearly torn between what to do, though Vision is not certain why. “So,” Billy interlaces his fingers while he haltingly proceeds with his thought, “can we go or do we have, you know, curfew?”

“I believe in this instance,” Vision mentally confirms his answer with Wanda before offering it to the boys, “you may be home later than usual.”

“Awesome.”

Once the boys are gone, the necromancer deposited safely in a containment cell awaiting a meeting with a judge in the morning, and they are back home, snuggled on the couch, Wanda nodding off on his chest as his hands work through her hair, he finally reaches a decision he had been waiting to make until he’d been able to process the evening. “They seem an admirable group.”

#scarlet vision #vision #wanda maximoff #billy kaplan #tommy shepherd #hulkling #cassie lang #iron lad #kate bishop #teddy #Young Avengers #the maximoffs #fanfic #mine #ask anon #seriously I don't really know anything about YA #so I hope this is somewhat accurate #this will probably be the last thing I write with the YA #thanks for the ask

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variety-of-fucks-to-give · 4 years

Text

Virus Control - Part One

For reference, all the people included in this story are: Alayna, Nate, Ariana(Adrian),Bianca, Jimena, Zak, Darryl, Vincent, Clay, George, Nick, Spifey, Zelk, Mega, Vurb, Finn, Techno, Phil, Wilbur, Harvey, Tommy, Fundy, and Tubbo.

~~~

A few years ago, the world was normal. Everyone was happy, trees grew, grass swayed, animals grazed, children laughed. But then what happened? The dragon broke through, bringing the disease with her, the dragon broke through and brought her world with her. The disease so optimistically named 'The End'. We lost the badlands first, the miners and their families succumbed to the virus. It's a wasteland, not that it was much before but now it's awful, it's like walking through a portal with no borders. One second you're in a beautifully lonely landscape of reds browns and golds and the next second the sky is gone, it's a suffocating purple static and the ground beneath you is cold and blanched. The plains next door to the badlands was stolen easily, and soon the vast birch forests fell with it. The last time she struck, she struck closer to home than she ever has before. Lone adventurers build houses for their families, dotted around the infinite landscapes. Our group of 25 thought we were too far away to worry. Apparently not.

Flashback yeet

Market, ugh, I grimace, avoiding the gazes of greedy villagers, their hungry stares searching for emeralds. Nate grips my hand, pulling me further through the crowd, "Where are we going?" I shout over the hubbub of chattering voices. "Zak said they'd meet us here, we're already late!" He shouts over his shoulder, "Just trust me," I sigh, adjusting the shimmering iron helmet adorning my head, holding it down with my free hand. Our glowing wings draw some eyes, jealous gazes from fellow adventurers, wondrous gazes from children. "Nate! There you are!" Another voice makes me direct my gaze upwards to a certain diamond clad flyboy. "Zak! You're gonna crash!" I shout, he's flying too close to people's heads, "Pull up you idiot!" He lights another firework, "FOLLOW ME!" He shouts as it rockets him forwards and upwards, "WOOHOO!" He screams, making Nate laugh. We continue running for a couple of minutes, following Zak's firework trail, and then we watch as he circles around a clearish patch of grass and makes a smoothish landing, beckoning us over.

The others come into view as we clear the crowd, brushing off our shirts and checking our pockets to make sure we didn't lose anything. "What are we doing? An elytra show or something?" I giggle, pointing out that every one of us is wearing our elytra’s. "You say that every week Alayna," Clay grunts, adjusting his hoodie sleeves. "Right, everybody know their pair and their items?" Darryl says, looking around the group. I nod, pulling my list out of my pocket, "Got Nate and I's," Every week on a Sunday, we go to the market 10,000 blocks from our base and split into pairs, each pair sent off to find items they are knowledgeable about so we can always get the best deals. "Vincent and I are food as usual, any requests?" He asks. I smile, "Sugar berries!" "Bacon," George says sarcastically. Techno rolls his eyes, "Sure, eat my people," He mutters, folding his arms. "Any enchanting book requests?" Bianca asks, Adrian by her side. "More mending," Tommy says. "You always want more mending, shut up pissboy, anybody else?" I shrug, "Fire protection would be useful," Nate looks around, "Did we really have to come? Alayna and I never end up buying anything anyway, we've already got all the animals we need," He says.

"You guys are free to go home, or you could join patrol," Vincent suggests, looking around the boundary at the number of volunteer watchers high in their watchtowers. "Ooh yes! Patrol!" I squeal. "You just wanna go on patrol cause of Eric," Nate teases, nudging my side. I blush, "I do NOT have a crush on Eric! Leave me alone! He won't even be there, he said he was gonna explore for a couple of weeks," Nate laughs, "Come on nerd, we'll see you guys back here when you're done," Nate spreads his wings and takes to the sky with a single firework, heading up to the floating watch island for elytra users. AKA us and a few select others because apparently we're the only people that have elytras in a 10,000 block radius that actually bother going to market. Nick takes my hand before I can follow, "Be careful, please," He mumbles, "I don't want to lose you," I smile warmly, hugging him quickly, "We'll be careful," I turn away and crouch, lighting a firework before diving forwards and letting it carry me upwards. I whoop as I let the air currents carry me upwards to the island where Nate is waiting. "You do know that like, four of the guys we live with have a crush on you, right?" He asks as I land.

I jerk my head in his direction, "What?? Who does?" He laughs, "I'm not telling,that's for me to know and you to wonder," I smirk, "Two can play at that game!" He frowns, "What?" "I know a certain pair of men who enjoy your company very much!" I say smugly, picking up a quill and writing my name on the roster and todays date. Nate snatches the quill from my hand, "Vincent," He mutters, writing his name down under mine, "Nick," My eyes widen, "They do?" "Clay and George," "Spifey?" "Not Spifey," I blush, looking out over the towers surrounding the market square, "Zak and Darryl," I mumble, conceding the names of the two men I mentioned earlier. He gasps, "You're capping, no fucking way!" "I'm not joking," I reply, scanning the horizon, spotting two patrols of pillagers, too far away to worry about, and yet... I let out a shrill whistle and a small green parrot appears in front of me. Two pillager patrols, one southeast the other to the west, I write on a small peice of paper, tying it with a ribbon to the parrot's leg. "Go on now girl," I mumble, stroking her neck feathers before she takes off, taking my note to the northernmost watchtower. She will take it to each tower in a clockwise direction until everybody on patrol knows.

It happens so fast. A purple shot like a needle pierces the bird, she bursts into a cloud of feathers, dead. I let out a shriek, pulling out my bow and aiming it at the sky, "DRAGON!" I scream, "THE MARKET IS UNPROTECTED!" Behind me, Nate pulls a lever attached to the ceiling, letting off a series of loud, massive, purple fireworks. A warning: take cover. Dragon raid. There's only ever been one of these here, long before I was born. The watchtowers burst to life as elytra-bearer's leap out of them, flying up towards us to aid with keeping the dragon at bay, archers positioning themselves strategically to avoid shooting a flyboy. My first shot lands at the base of the dragon's tail and it roars out, catching my eye: it's not the mother. "I'LL TRY LEAD IT AWAY, YOU DEAL WITH THE PATROL!" Pulling my mask up over my face, I shout towards Nate over the cries of the sick, the twisted and the damned. After the sickness was discovered: Mega made all of us masks to keep us as safe as possible. I pull out my fireworks, running and leaping off the edge of the tower and instantly lighting one, letting it carry me up and away. I crane my neck to look over my shoulder, feeling the piercing breath of the dragon as she flies after me, slow with her large reptilian body. "That's right girl, follow me," I mumble, leading her further away from the rest of her patrol.

Another firework is set off below me and I look down, spotting the afore-mentioned mute man. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE WITH THE OTHERS?" I yell as he joins me. He shrugs, miming slitting his throat and pointing back at the dragon. "YOU'RE INSANE! YOU KNOW THEY'RE STRONGER NOW THAT THE MOTHER IS OUT HERE, WE NEED AT LEAST FIVE OF US!" He shrugs again, miming coughing, "YOU'D RATHER DIE TO HER THAN LOSE TO THE SICKNESS, I'M SURE WE ALL WOULD," I grit my teeth, angling my wings directly up and setting off another firework. I loop up and over, landing with a flourish on the dragon's back, gripping the spines running down the length of her body. Mega lands beside me, miming twisting his finger next to his head,"YES, WE'RE ALL CRAZY, NOW ARE YOU GONNA HELP ME OR NOT?" I yell, driving my glowing sword downwards between the thick scales. He does the same, sickly purple blood spraying out, staining his hoodie. We move upwards as she twists and bucks underneath us, trying to throw us off as we pierce her hide every opportunity we get, eventually reaching her head. Mega looks towards me and I meet his gaze, "TOGETHER," I cry and he mimes counting down from 5, before we drive our swords into the dragon's eye sockets.

We're too far away from the market to do any damage at this point so as she falls we steer her into the desert for a crash landing. At the last second we dive upwards, using fireworks to land softly a safe distance away. Mega grabs my shoulder, pointing at the ground beside the dragon as it begins to shimmer. The haze settles, revealing a pulsating purple dragon egg, "She was a mother..." I mumble, going over and using a torch to pick it up. Mega mimes cradling something and I shrug, "Is it even possible to hatch a dragon egg?" He shrugs and I add the egg to my backpack inventory as we begin to fly back. The chaos is still in motion, a second and third dragon having appeared in our absence, raining hellfire on the market village below. I frown, spotting the trio of George, Nick and Clay atop the largest dragon, Nate and Zak upon the second, trying to drive it away. "THE VILLAGERS ARE UNDERGROUND!" A voice cuts through the confusion and I meet Vincent's eyes as he flies beside us, "IT'S JUST PATROL AND US LEFT OUT HERE, WE SHOULD GET OUT WHILE WE STILL CAN!" Mega shakes his head, miming using a shield and then pointing to the village. "WE HAVE TO PROTECT T-" A shot whizzes over my head and smacks straight into Vincent and I scream as Mega pulls me away, using a firework to pull the both of us away as the poison takes over Vincent's body.

I watch him struggling as we fly away, his eyes turning a glowing white, his skin paling. He's gone. The monotone way he drops his backpack as it it's worthless tells me everything and I dive, grabbing the bag before it hits the ground. It weighs me down slightly but Mega grips my arm, keeping me in the air. His eyes are sad and I frown, "LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!" I catch sight of Techno chasing a screaming Phil and a tear slips down my face. I cast my gaze around and spot more backpacks falling from the sky. None of them should be full to the brim so Mega and I collect them as we spot them, staying out of the way and not making eye contact with anybody. "JIMENA NO!" I hear Nate shout through the quieting chaos. I look up after casually wrestling Adrian's bag off of his writhing form. Nate crashes into Darryl mid flight as he chases Jimena, a ravenous and violent gleam extremely foreign in his white eyes. He struggles against Nate, desperate to reach his target. "GO AFTER HER! I shout to Mega, "I'LL HELP NATE!" Finn beats me to him, diving and grabbing Darryl, slingshotting him to the ground where he lays, mostly motionless. "I'M SORRY DARRYL!" Nate shouts, the crack in his voice breaking my heart.

Mega catches up with Jimena as I reach Nate, "YOU OK?" He nods, "KINDA, IS JIMENA ALRIGHT?" I nod, pointing to Mega, "We have to go, now, there's nothing left for us here," He says as Finn returns with Wilbur's bag. "Is that all the bags?" I ask and he nods, "I followed your lead, collected the ones you missed," "GO NOW!" I hear Fundy shout as he dives past us, "THE DRAGONS!" Nate and I whip out heads to look back, our flight slow enough that we can keep up with each other. We exchange a glance, "Let's not stick around," Nate suggests as the dragons start scanning for survivors. I nod grimly, lighting three fireworks in quick succession to catch up with the other three. The six of us gain altitude, leveling out as we pass through the clouds, "Back to base! We hole up underground!" Finn shouts, "We should be alright if we hide out for a week,"

I’m in the process of writing part 2 it should come out today so don’t kill me

Love,

Chase

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