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in-ky · 3 years

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Hi! I’d love a story about Negan being a serial killer who only kills “bad people” (like in Dexter) and maybe he saves the reader from her ex who’s about to kill her and Negan can save her and takes her in because she’s a mess but she’s actually a killer herself (who kills rapists etc/ only the bad ones) and Negan and the reader start fighting and then get caught up in steamy hot sex 🥵 thank you!

Savior - Negan Killer AU

Warnings: Warnings: GORE + violence, smut, domestic abuse, swearing, dirty talk ig? idk how to tag this lol

A/N: hey! i struggled over this one for a while lol. ive only seen like. 3? episodes of dexter so. i really hope this meets your expectations! also forgive any mistakes its late, im tired, and i wanna get this up lol. also, is negan batman? maybe. 3.7k words

"Will, stop you're hurting me!" I hissed, grabbing at his wrist. He tugged me out of the bustling restaurant and into the dark street.

"I don't really give a shit," He snarled, throwing me into a secluded alleyway a few buildings down from the restaurant. Will had taken me out to a business dinner with his boss in hopes of showing me off and making a good impression. But things didn't quite go according to plan. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone!" He pushed me against the brick wall of the closed department store.

"What was I supposed to do?" I sneered, trying to wiggle away from him "He kept commenting on my body, saying how he wished he could take me home at the end of the night and do all kinds of 'unspeakable things to me'."

"You were just supposed to shut up and take it!" Will said, voice filled with rage "But no, you and your untamable fucking complex just couldn't handle a compliment. You threw your drink in his face! You're lucky he didn't fire me right then and there. You made me look like some pussy who can't control his whore."

"You're an asshole." I shouted, tears welling at the edges of my eyes. Will's face contorted further into a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He seethed, clasping his hand tightly around my throat and constricting his fingers around my airway.

"I said you're an asshole who cares more about his dead-end career than his fucking girlfriend." I croaked. I hated him. I hated him so much. My vision clouded with the combination of disgust, loathing, and lack of oxygen, so I hit him where I knew it hurt. "There's a reason you needed me for arm candy tonight. It's 'cause you're a boring, piece-of-shit, lowlife who has no skill whatsoever. How does it feel knowing you need me to make something of yourself?" With that, he threw me to the ground by my throat. He wasted no time and pinned me to the cold concrete. His knees dug into my shoulders and his hand flew to his back pocket, whipping out the switchblade he carried as a precaution against mugging. My eyes widened as they caught a glint of the moonlight off the sharp knife. He brought the blade up to my throat and slapped me over the cheek harshly with his free hand.

"You better take back those words, bitch," He hissed, pressing the blade into the soft skin of my jugular "or they might just be your last." A dribble of blood ran down my neck with the pressure. Realization flashed through my mind. I could die right then. That could have been my last moment. Was I scared? No. Why wasn't I scared? Maybe it had to do with the shadowy figure that was slowly approaching us from the ally entrance.

There was plenty of time for me to warn Will that someone was coming. But I didn't. Instead, I stayed quiet and watched as the shadow figure pulled Will from my body with ease and tossed him to the side. Everything was kind of a blur. I was still oxygen starved and filled with a whirl-wind of emotion. I heard Will cry out in surprise and indignance. The shadow figure said nothing. It saw the switchblade with a steady line of my blood. It kicked Will in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Then it lifted up a baseball bat over its head and cracked it down over Will's skull. He continued to beat Will until he stopped squirming. The shadow figure paused and swung the bat over his shoulder. I had regained my breath and pushed myself to my elbows. The shadow noticed me moving and took a few heavy steps in my direction. I squirmed away slightly, instincts telling me to get away from the thing that had just pulverized my boyfriend. The shadow entered a stream of moonlight. It was a man. He had peppered hair and a blood-speckled face. He had dark brown eyes and a small smile perched on his lips.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He said. His voice was deep. I was partially surprised. He wasn't a bulky man. He was tall and had a broad frame, but his limbs were long and his body was lithe. He wore a leather jacket and his boots were slick with what I could only assume were Will's brains. I didn't want to look at his bat.

"W-Why did you do that?" I whispered. It was all I could muster.

"He was going to kill you." The man sounded confused, like I was supposed to know who he was and why he saved me.

"You don't know that." My voice was quiet. My eyes were glued to a spot behind the man, unblinking. He let out a throaty chuckle and dropped to a squat, leveling with me.

"Doll, he had a knife pressed to your throat," His words were gentle "Looked like he was gonna fuckin' kill you." He hesitantly reached out two fingers in the direction of my face. I didn't move. He was wearing leather gloves. The ridged fabric ran along my injuries. "Seems like he did some damage before I could step in. Damn. Sorry about that. Listen, I live a few streets down. If you want, I can get you cleaned up."

"Okay," I said softly. I let him help me up to my feet. He guided me along with one arm while holding his bat with the other. As we walked out of the alley I couldn't help but look down at Will, or what remained of him at least. His forehead was split in half, a pool of chunky blood bubbling on the ground. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to swallow the bile that had risen in my throat. And yet, I didn't feel sad. I didn't mourn him. Maybe it was shock, maybe it wasn't. "Thank you?" I murmured, though it was more of a question. The man and I stepped out onto the street and I was grateful there was no one around to see us leaving the scene of a very heinous-looking crime.

"No problem, doll," The man hummed, setting a brisk pace down the sidewalk. "The name's Negan, by the way." Cool. Negan: my Savior.

~~~

"So you're like Batman?" I asked Negan as he dabbed the blood away from my neck. He gave a short chuckle and tore away the sticky part of the band-aid.

"I guess you can say that," he mused, splaying the bandage over the cut the knife had left "but I specifically go for people that I know have hurt others. The baddies, if you will."

"Is that legal?" I tilted my head, crossing my ankles as they dangled over the bathroom counter. My palms were flat on the surface of Negan's marble sink top, fiddling with the wrappers of the medical supplies he had used to clean and bandage my small cuts and bruises.

"I haven't been caught," Negan shrugged "besides, it's less work for the police. They don't have to do any interrogation bullshit or anything. I usually catch people in the act, like tonight. Then I do my thing."

"Do you kill everyone?"

"Only the bad people," He reminded, tossing away a bloody tissue "only people who have hurt others. But, yes, usually the offender ends up on the business end of Lucille over there." He pointed out the door into the living room, where the still-bloody bat rested against a chair. I furrowed my brow.

"Well, doesn't that make you a bad guy?" I pressed. He tapped my knee and I dropped down to the tile floor, tucking my hair behind my ear and gathering some of the scraps.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you still kill people, right? Even if they're bad? So doesn't that still make you a killer?" Negan was quiet for a minute. "Let's put it this way," I continued "What would you do if you came across someone who was like you; someone who hurt the bad people. Would you still kill them. They're hurting people." Negan took a deep breath and let it out with a contemplative sigh, itching his bearded chin.

"I'm not sure," He mused "I've never really thought about it before. See, I don't consider myself a bad person per say. Yea, what I'm doing might be considered fucked up. But I'm doing it for the right reason. I'm protecting people by attacking their attackers. In the end, someone's saved." He brushed off his hands and led me out of the bathroom, flicking the light off. "Would you rather me not have saved you tonight?"

"No," I said immediately "thank you. Really, thank you. You saved my life. Will is...was...always a dick, but I never thought he'd actually hurt me. I guess that proves people can have a whole bunch of layers." Negan nodded and moved to the kitchen. He raised a bottle of whiskey as an offering. I shook my head but he poured himself a glass.

"I was just doing my job," Negan grinned sympathetically "I'm sorry your boyfriend was an asshole who tried to murder you." I shrugged, amusement in my eyes.

"Eh, it happens to everyone." I smiled as he let out another laugh. I felt as if I shouldn't be laughing, but at the same time, everyone has their own responses to almost getting stabbed to death in an alley. So I let myself have this moment. Besides, Negan was a good guy to be around. He made me feel safe, comfortable, secure. Everything I needed right now. "So, Negan, what do you do? Surely vigilante-ing can't pay well, and this apartment is really nice."

"I'm a retired baseball player," Negan said, sipping his whiskey and settling into one of the armchairs in the living room "Hence the bat."

"Were you any good?" I asked. He let out a loud scoff.

"Was I any good?" He mocked "Sweetheart, I have a whole damn trophy room. I was fucking amazing. I just got old."

"So you're rich with no real job, you kill bad guys, and you have a massive ego," I listed "You really are like Batman, aren't you?"

~~~

Negan let me stay on his couch that night. It was leather, like everything else that man seemed to own, but it was comfortable. I woke up to the smell of bacon filling the air. I groaned and rubbed my fists against my eyes, clearing them of sleep. I stretched my arms above my head in a yawn and rolled off the couch, stumbling into the kitchen. Negan was hunched over the bubbling pan, dodging pellets of grease as they shot up at him.

"Smells good!" I purred, closing my eyes and taking a deep inhale.

"Good," He grumbled "You better fucking enjoy it because I've gotten burned at least three times." I laughed and walked up to him examining the small red patches that dotted his arms.

"You didn't have to make me breakfast you know."

"Yea, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable," He sighed, turning off the stove and scooping the cooked bacon onto a paper towel. "Besides, I was craving some bacon when I woke up. I haven't had someone to share a meal with in a while."

"Well, if you want, you can come by my house for dinner." I offered, crunching down on a piece of bacon "I've been meaning to whip out the family alfredo recipe for a while, maybe a hot date would give me that incentive." I gave him a playful wink and he chuckled.

"Sure thing, doll," He hummed, putting the pan in the sink "I love me some fucking spaghetti. I'll see you around seven?"

"Sounds good."

~~~

I ran down the sidewalk, chest heaving. There was enough darkness to cover me, but I still kept my head down to prevent recognition. I held my hands close to my stomach, praying that the blood on my fingers wouldn't drip on the pavement and leave a trail. I had been on my way home from the store when I heard some commotion coming from an alley. My first instinct was to run, but then I heard the girl crying for help. Negan came to mind, what he did, how he helped people. I couldn't turn away. I marched down the alley and saw a greasy man pinning a woman to the wall of a building. Flashbacks of the night before hit me like a train. I looked on top of the alley dumpster and saw a crowbar perched on one of the lids. I grabbed it and stormed up to the man, whacking him upside the head with the weapon. I kicked him to the side and brought the crowbar over my head before swinging it down. It connected with his face in a sickening 'thwack.' I thought of Will. I thought of what might of happened if Negan had never stopped him. I thought of all the times that bastard had gotten drunk and told me I was nothing. I let the rage bubble up and fuel my beating. By the time I was pulled back into the moment, my muscles were screaming, the woman was gone, and the man's face was unrecognizable. I tossed the crowbar into the dumpster and ran back home.

Dried blood is extremely hard to wash off. It sticks to your skin in flakes, creating a pattern of red veins crawling over your hands. Fuck. I scrubbed as hard as I could under the rushing water of the sink, pumping more and more soap into my hand. It was under my fingernails. It was stuck in my palm prints. Shit, did I leave fingerprints at the scene? Would they be coming for me? With a hiss, I rubbed even harder at my skin, small flecks of blood turning the sink water red.

Suddenly, my door opened.

"I'm ready for my s'getties!" Negan boomed with a wide smile. My head whipped around, looking at him with wide eyes. His grin faded and he crossed the room in record time, grabbing my wrists and turning the sink off. "Is this fucking blood?" He snarled, bringing my hands up to my face. I clenched my jaw and dropped my eyes to my feet. "Jesus, who's is it? Answer me!"

"I-I heard someone screaming on the way home," I said quietly, eyes still downcast "I thought I would help..." His jaw went slack and he let go of my hands, running his fingers through his hair.

"Jesus fuck, you can't just go around killing people!"

"Why not?" I snapped, eyes meeting his "You do it all the time? What's the difference? Why can't I help people?"

"Because it...Because you just can't!" Negan growled, shaking his head.

"Why are you so special?" I hissed back, drying my hands off on a towel before tossing it at him "It's not like you can get a permit for fucking murder. Why do you do it, anyways? Is it some perverted thing? Do you get off on saving people from attackers?"

"Watch yourself." Negan warned, eyes darkening.

"Pfft, or what?" I laughed, tossing my head back "What are you gonna do, kill me? I'm not afraid of you, Negan." As soon as the words left my mouth, he charged me. His hand flew to my throat, squeezing my airway lightly. His hips pressed me against the counter. I let out a small gasp when he shoved his face next to mine.

"Oh, but doll, you really fucking should be." He spat, curling his lip "I could snap your neck right here, right now." He gave a small squeeze to emphasize his words. I let out a strangled moan. We both froze. "Are you turned on right now?" He muttered, furrowing his brow. I licked my lips and squirmed in his grip, pressing my thighs together slightly in an effort to alleviate the warm pressure growing in my belly.

"No," I lied, voice weak. A sinister grin curled over the bottom half of his face and he licked his tongue over his teeth.

"And I'm the perv, huh?" He sucked on my earlobe and peppered kisses down my jawline "Sweetheart, tell me, do you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours? Do you want me to make you cum harder than you ever have?" I whimpered at his dirty mouth. "Use your words, doll, or I'll leave right fucking now."

"Y-Yes!" I breathed as Negan's lips sucked on the sweet spot right beneath my ear.

"Yes, what, princess?"

"Yes, I want you to fuck me, please!" I groaned, clawing at his shirt. He let out a short chuckle, muttering something about how needy I was, but I didn't care. Right now, the only thought running through my head was that I needed Negan. I needed all of him. And damn me if I wasn't going to get it.

We clawed at each other's clothes like rabid animals. Once we were completely bare, Negan moved his kisses down my body. His large, calloused hands kneaded my breasts, twisting my nipples between his thumbs. My arms flew around his neck and I dragged my fingernails up his back. He shivered against my touch and slid his hands further down my body. They settled firmly on my hips as he captured my lips in a fervent kiss.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he grunted, pulling back for air. I looked at him. His tawny eyes were now black, pupils far beyond dilated with lust. Both of our lips were swollen and red from the intensity of our kisses. Negan's chest inflated and deflated quickly as his eyes roamed over my body. "You're so damn perfect." I smiled sheepishly and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, looking up at him through lidded eyes.

"You're not so bad yourself," I reached out my hand and used my pointer finger to draw a line from his collar bone down the center of his chest and through his navel, finally ending right over his pulsing cock. He sucked in a breath as my fingers closed around him. My thumb swept over the hot tip, gathering precum on the pad of my finger and rubbing it around.

"Shit," He hissed as I slowly pumped him "I'm not gonna fucking last if you keep doing that." He gently pried my hand away and took a step closer to me. I could feel his hardened length resting against the inside of my thigh. The thought of him being so close made a burst of heat rush down between my thighs. Negan took a long finger and ran it through my folds, collecting my wetness. I moaned as he teasingly dipped the first knuckle into me. He pulled back and let out a low whistle. "Damn, girl," he chuckled, raising his finger to my face "You're fucking dripping. Who's that for?" His slick-coated fingers glistened in the light of my apartment. I let out a deep groan as he slid them between his lips and sucked.

"You, Negan!" I whimpered, wrapping my legs around his waist "It's all for you." A wolfish grin spread over his features as he tugged me off him and pulled me down off the counter. He spun me around and pressed gently between my shoulder blades until my chest was flat against the cold surface.

"Then if you don't mind," Negan cooed, lining himself up with my entrance "I'm going to take what belongs to me." With that, he slowly pushed into me. I gasped at the stretch, balling my hands into fists as he continued to split me open.

"Fucking shit," he groaned once he bottomed out "you're tight as hell. I bet you've never had a dick as big as mine." He pulled out slightly and I let out a moan at the growing emptiness inside. The moan soon turned to a yelp when he brought down his hand against my ass. The smack was loud and he rubbed the red spot tenderly. "Have you?"

"N-No!" I gasped when he thrusted into me for the first time "Never. Fuck, you feel so good." Negan's thrusts sped up, his hips snapping against my ass in an obscene rhythm. Grunts and moans of pleasure slipped from both of our lips as he plowed unapologetically into me. I could feel every inch of him. He was hitting every spot, dragging against my walls in a sinfully perfect way.

"You're doing so good," He purred, kissing and biting my shoulder "So good for me. You're so perfect." I tossed my head back and he grabbed my chin, tilting my face towards him so he could give me another bruising kiss. I could only keep up for so long, though, and the white bliss of pleasure he was giving me soon became overwhelming. My jaw went slack and my head dropped against the cool tile of the counter in an attempt to ground myself in the moment. "I want you to cum, doll, cum around me. Wanna feel those walls squeeze me." His thrusts were starting to become sloppy and I could tell he was getting to his end. One of his fingers danced down my spine and found its way to my clit. He circled it with just enough pressure to get me to the edge that I was so willing to jump off. "Now." Negan growled. I obeyed, feeling the band in my lower abdomen snapping violently. We reached our releases simultaneously. My walls clenched around him, milking him of every drop. I screwed my eyes shut and screamed his name, holding in a large breath as the world around me spun. Negan eventually pulled himself out and collapsed on top of me. We both were breathing heavily, sweaty bodies entangled as well as we could over a counter. I swallowed, my throat dry from panting through my orgasm. When my eyes fluttered open, I could see Negan's thumb tracing circles over the love bites that were starting to darken on my shoulders.

"Are you going to kill me?" I rasped, running a hand through my wild hair "I guess I'm a bad person now." Negan chuckled, still out of breath.

"I think I'll make an exception," He mused, pressing a sweet kiss to the shell of my ear "I don't think I'm ready to let you go just yet."

#negan x reader #negan x y/n #negan smut #negan x you #negan smith #au!negan #the walking dead #twd smut #twd negan

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patagucci34 · 4 years

Text

All Three ~ Nolan Patrick

A/N: this is based on the song All Three by Noah Cyrus. Also i have no idea what it’s like to have migraines and I obviously don’t know how it was for Nolan either, my depiction in this is just what I thought would fit with the story.

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, verbal fights, playful arguing

Word count: 6.9k

Nolan Patrick…your best friend, your lover, your kryptonite.

It's the classic friends with benefits scenario…you met when he came to Philly and the rest is history. Your cousin, Meg had been dating Travis Sanheim and she always dragged you along to outings so you had become pretty familiar with the Flyers.

The night you met Nolan you knew you were in for it. You had walked into Scott's apartment trailing behind Meg and Travis and you immediately locked eyes with an unfamiliar face across the room. He immediately blushed and his mouth twitched up a bit in an attempt at a smile. You gave him a small smile back and then were interrupted by a few of the guys giving you hugs.

You were intrigued by the guy across the room, you figured he was a rookie, a super cute rookie, and you really wanted to meet him. It was a little while before you finally did, you wandered into the kitchen with your cousin to grab a drink and then of course you caught up in conversation. But finally, halfway through the night you were being introduced.

"Nolan, Travis, this is y/n, y/n, this Nolan and Travis." Ghosty introduced you to the two rookies. You shook their hands and greeted them sweetly. "It's nice to meet you!"

"It's nice to meet you too." The shorter of the two, Travis, greeted. "So how do you fit in with the mix here?"

"My cousin is dating Travis Sanheim and they drag me along to things like these."

"Oh, sweet. Do you go to school here?"

"Yeah, I'm a sophomore at UPenn."

"Wow, don't you have to be like really smart to go there?"

You blushed at Travis' question. Although you had worked super hard to get into UPenn, you hated when people would make a big deal about it. And you never knew how to answer this question without sounding like an asshole. "Um, I mean I guess so…you have to get good grades and be involved in a lot."

"So, probably no chance for me?" Travis joked.

You giggled and shook your head looking over at Nolan who had been pretty quiet the whole conversation. His cheeks flushed a bit more when you looked at him and he realized that he should probably say something. "What are you studying?"

Your breath hitched upon hearing Nolan's voice. It was deep and a bit raspy and you were even more intrigued. "Environmental Studies." You answered with a small smile.

"Cool, so you like the outdoors?" Travis asked.

"Yeah, I've always lived in the city, but I like to get out whenever I can and go camping and hike and stuff."

Nolan immediately knew that he wanted to get to know her more. He was happy that she said she came to stuff like this a lot and he'd have the opportunity to hang out with her.

Meg came barreling into the three of you, grabbing your arm to pull you towards the pong table.

"Sorry boys, she's needed for beer pong!!" She called over her shoulder and you shot them an apologetic smile as she dragged you across the room.

You and Meg dominated, as always, so you were occupied with beer pong for quite some time. But once you finally got knocked out, you looked around for Nolan because you really wanted to talk to him again. You spotted him in walking towards the kitchen so you decided to follow.

He sensed a presence behind him and smiled when he turned and saw that it was you.

"Beer?" He asked holding a bottle out for you.

You nodded and took it from his hand, "thank you."

He grabbed one for himself and leaned against the counter. "You're quite the player."

You smirked at his compliment, "yeah, we're not all total nerds at UPenn, I've had my practice."

"So, are you from Philly?" He asked after a few moments of silence.

"Yup, born and raised…"

"You say that like it's a bad thing…"

"I love it here, I do, but sometimes I wish I had gone somewhere else for school. Just to experience something else, you know?"

Nolan nodded, "Yeah, I left home when I was a teenager for hockey, it's nice to see what else is out there but there's definitely no place like home."

You smiled at his comment, he was very soothing. You had only known him for a few hours but you already felt super comfortable around him.

You stayed in the kitchen with him and talked for the rest of the night. You hadn't even noticed how late it had gotten until Travis came looking for you telling you that you needed to go because Meg was super wasted.

"Okay, I'll be right out." You assured him so that you could try and invite Nolan back to your place.

"It was really nice talking with you, y/n…" Nolan said.

"Would you maybe wanna come back to my place?" You asked with a smirk.

He smiled and nodded, "let me just go to tell TK."

You walked up to Travis and Meg, "Nolan is gonna come back with me, so you can guys just go home." Travis raised his eyebrows, "are you sure?"

You nodded, "yeah, I'm good. I promise."

"Okay…" Travis said hesitantly. "Text me when you get home please…and if you need anything." Although Nolan seemed like a good guy, Travis still didn't really know him and he was protective of you.

"Will do. Thanks, Travis. Good luck with Meg."

"Yeah, bets she passes out in the Uber…"

You laugh at his prediction and say goodbye to Meg.

You turn around and Nolan is approaching you. "You ready?" You nod in response and go downstairs to wait for your Uber. Conversation seemed to just flow and you talked the whole way to your apartment.

Your roommates thankfully were both in their rooms for the night so you didn't have to deal with any introductions.

"Do you want anything to drink?" You whispered as you entered your apartment.

"I'll have some water if that's okay." You nodded and handed him a water bottle before leading him down the hallway to your room. Unsurprisingly, you talked for a little bit longer before he finally made a move and started kissing you.

You melted into his grasp as soon as you felt his lips on yours. The faint taste of beer on his lips had you desperate for more.

Ever since that first night he had you locked in. You hooked up a few nights a week when he was in Philly. You kept in touch when he was on road trips and when he went back to Winnipeg for the off season, you even visited him there a few times. He had grown to become your best friend. As the two of you got closer it wasn't always about sex, he'd come over after a tough loss, you'd confide in him when you were stressed about school or your friends. But despite how close the two of you were, you never felt your relationship progressed to anything more than friends.

Everyone always thought you two were a couple, he invited you to team events as his plus one, you went on dates, you were exclusive, you argued like you were married…but for some reason you never put the label on it. You didn't totally mind…you were both still very young and not to mention putting a title on it really wouldn't change your relationship at all so you supposed it didn't matter. It would happen when it happens and that was fine… or so you thought.

I really hate when you say you love me, those spoken words are wet concrete

And in your arms I feel so lucky, weightless when you lie on me

It started to really fuck you up when he said those three forbidden words. I love you. Well, in your case it was two, and not as meaningful or intimate as it usually is said for the first time.

You guys had been together, or doing whatever you were doing, for two years. He was leaving for a week long road trip and you were at his place helping him pack before you brought him to the airport.

"Hey, y/n/n?" Nolan called from the bedroom. "Have you seen my black tie?"

"I'm ironing it right now!" You yelled back from the living room.

Once you finished ironing his dress clothes you brought them into his bedroom for him to pack.

"Thank you." He said before giving you a quick kiss and zipping them carefully into his bag.

"Do you want to eat anything before you go?" You asked.

"Can you make me a ham sandwich, please?" He asked with a childish grin.

You chuckled and shook your head, "of course."

You looked at the time and figured he'd need to eat in the car so you packaged it up so he could take it with him. Just as you finished, he emerged from the hallway with his bags in hand. You grabbed him a bottle of water and put it in a bag with his sandwich. You double checked with him that he had everything and you headed down to the car. You drove so Nolan could eat and the rest of the car ride was spent humming along to the music.

"Do you want any help?" You asked as you put the car in the park out front.

"No, I'm all set." He said as he slid out of the car. You got out after him and stood by as he gathered his bags. "Thank you for your help this morning."

"Anytime, Nols. Text me when you land, please."

"Will do," he assured as he leaned down to kiss you, "love you, babe."

You stood there shocked at his words as he walked away seemingly unbothered. True to his word, he had texted you when they landed and texted you throughout the week as normal. You were kind of expecting some sort of explanation, at least an acknowledgement of what he had said but it seemed like it just slipped out and he didn't think anything of it. You however, spent the whole week overthinking and freaking out.

Of course you had thought about if you loved Nolan or not, but you just never thought saying it was on the table because of the status of your relationship. You hoped that when he returned he'd have something to say about it but he didn't. And you were the biggest chicken in the world so you never brought it up. He didn't say it too often, mostly when he'd leave for a road trip or if you weren't going to see each other for a while. You had been trying to build up the courage to say it back but you could never bring yourself to do it.

It didn't seem to bother him that you didn't say it back. Which made you really think it wasn't that big of a deal for him, which is what confused and frustrated you so much. You didn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about it all the time. Was he that dense? Or were you really just overthinking it? It got to the point where you hated to hear him say it. But it didn't matter how much you hated to hear it, because you knew you loved him too.

Nolan was not known for showing much emotion. But you weren't either so it worked out for the two of you. You had other ways of expressing your feelings for each other. For you, it was helping him prepare for road trips, cooking him dinner, rubbing his shoulders, and when they started, helping him through his migraines. For him, it was bringing you coffee and dinner when you were cramming for an exam, always making sure you had Reese's and a bottle Sauvignon Blanc on hand, going for walks with you, taking you to concerts… but your favorite moments with Nolan were when the two of you were lying in bed or on the couch. Not doing anything, maybe you have a show on in the background, but you weren't paying attention to it. Instead you were listening to Nolan's heartbeat, focusing on his soft breathing. You were often under him, him acting as the perfect weighted blanket to help you feel at ease.

But darling if I could, I would fall for someone good, someone good for me

No matter how good the highs are, there of course some lows. Nothing too awful, but with the uncertainties of your relationship comes some strain. Sometimes the time spent together is too much, you feel overwhelmed, Nolan feels too much pressure… and you're never sure if you can work through it. You obviously always have, but each time you have a falling out it feels like the end.

You had been sitting at home all night trying to reach Nolan. He had been having his migraines for a little while now and you were worried because you hadn't heard from him all day and he wasn't the playing in the game. You knew that if it was anything super serious, someone would have contacted you but you couldn't help but worry about him. You finally decided to go over to his place and see if he was okay.

You knocked quietly upon arrival wanting to give him a chance to answer the door. After a few minutes of silence you decided to just go in. His apartment was dark, which wasn't unusual during a bad migraine, so you made your way back to his bedroom. His door was cracked so you pushed it open and saw Nolan lying down on the bed.

"Nolan." You whispered with no response. "Nolan." You whispered a little louder this time. He moved a bit so you knew he heard you but he still didn't say anything. You walked over to the bed and gently sat down next to him. "Are you okay?" He grunted in response, still not what you wanted, but something nonetheless. "I'm sorry for just coming, but I was worried…I haven't heard from you all day."

"You can see that I'm alive so you can leave now."

You sighed at his cold tone, you had heard it before and you knew better than to push so you got up to leave. You stopped before the door and turned towards him, "let me know if you need anything." You didn't wait for a response knowing that you probably wouldn't get one so you left his apartment.

You tried to your best not to be upset by the interaction. You didn't know how Nolan felt in those moments and you wanted to give him what he needed, even if it meant him not wanting you around. It certainly wasn't the first time he shut you out and you knew it wouldn't be the last, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

What made this time different was your interaction the next day. Usually after a night like that, he would apologize for how he treated you and would explain he just really needed to be alone. You of course always forgave him and things went back to normal. But this time, there was no apology, just more hostility.

He had texted you asking if you could bring over something to eat. You asked him what he wanted and he said he didn't care, "get whatever you want."

You decided to just go to the store and get a few different things so he had options. When you showed up to his place he was on the couch with his eyes closed, so you quietly shut the door and put your bags down in the kitchen. You were putting a few things away when you heard him speak. "What did you bring?"

You walked over to him so you didn't have to yell, "I got a few things from the store…I got stuff for sandwiches, frozen pizza, soup…"

"Alright thanks." Was all he said. You stood there for a minute not knowing what to do. "What are you doing?" He asked looking over at you.

"I, um, well…" you fumbled out, taken aback by his tone, "do you want me to make something for you?"

"Just make me a sandwich I guess."

You nodded and walked away without another word.

A few minutes later, you brought his sandwich to him on a plate and set it down a little harder than you probably should have. But you were starting to get upset so you didn't really care. He glared at you in response but thanked you as he sat up and grabbed it. You walked back into the kitchen and put everything away.

"I'm gonna go, I guess. Let me know when you're feeling better." You said as he walked by him to put your coat on.

"Why are you leaving?"

"Well it's clear you're still not doing well, so I'm just gonna leave you alone." "I never told you that you needed to leave." "You didn't have to, Nolan." "What's your problem?" "I don't want to fight, especially if you’re still not feeling good, so I'm just gonna go."

"Why do we need to fight? I just asked you a question."

"Really? 'What’s your problem?' isn't exactly an innocent question."

"Well I don't really understand why you've got such an attitude." "I'm trying not to lose my patience Nolan, but you're making it really difficult." "Why?!" he asked starting to raise his voice, "What did I do?" "You're kind of treating me like shit, Nolan. I'm sorry that you had a bad migraine yesterday, and I'm sorry if I made it worse by coming here last night, but I was worried. I understand it's hard for you, but I hadn't heard from you all day. You usually let me in and help you through them and it’s fine if that's not what you want or need but you don't get to be a dick to me about it. You asked me to bring you food, I did, and you're still being rude to me. I don't mind being here Nols, I want to be here, but if you're going to act like this I'm not interested."

"You have no idea how hard it is for me, y/n," he yelled at you, "I didn't ask you to come over last night, I'm sorry you were worried but I can't put my migraine on hold just to make you feel better."

"I know that, Nolan! That's why I left once I saw that you were okay! But you were obviously okay enough this morning to text me asking for food, and you're obviously okay enough right now to be yelling at me! I know that I don't know how hard it is for you, but I'm doing my best to be here for you and support you however I can. I know that you can't always text me or call me, and that's fine. But the way you're treating me right now is not okay." "You don't have to be here for me all the time. You didn't have to bring me food today if you really didn't want to. You can say no, y/n, you don't owe me anything."

You were hurt by his words but you tried your best not to show it. "I wanted to bring you food because I care about you! I want to be here for you! It just doesn't seem like you want me here. You've been nothing but cold to me since you texted me this morning! I don't mind doing these things for you, Nol, but you could at least act grateful."

"Whatever, y/n/n. Just go I guess. I'm not arguing with you anymore."

You opened your mouth but you didn't know what you would even say, so you put your coat on and left.

It had been a few days since your fight and you hadn't spoken to him at all. It was awful timing because you had midterms coming up and you were too distracted to study.

You were currently trying to force your way through a study guide when you got a call from Meg. You sighed and answered the phone. "Hey, Meg."

"Hey, y/n/n, what's up?" "Trying to study…what about you?" "You're not going to the game tonight?"

"No, I really need to study." "But I thought you were going…?" "Yeah, well plans change. I can't go anymore." You heard some mumbling in the background, which you assumed was Travis. A few moments later Meg spoke up again.

"Are you and Nolan fighting?"

You rolled your eyes and sighed, "We had a pretty big fight the other day and I haven't talked to him since. But regardless, I need to study. I have midterms next week."

"Travis said Nolan has been grumpier than usual. What did you fight about?"

"His migraines I guess??? I don't even know, I tried standing up for myself but he wasn't having it so I left."

"You haven't talked at all since?" "Nope, not a word." "Are you okay?" "I don't know, not really honestly. But I really can't dwell on it right now because I need to focus on studying." "And how is that going for you?" "Not very well." "Okay, so why don't you come over and we can talk about it. If you're not studying anyway it might help to get things off your chest."

You sighed as you thought about it, knowing that she was right you agreed and got your things together to go over there.

She had a glass of wine waiting for you and you sat down and told her everything.

"Okay, well you were right to stand up yourself. You've done a lot for him recently and you don't deserve to be treated that way."

"Yeah, but he's right, I didn't have to do any of it for him. He didn't ask, I just did it." "Okay so you didn't have to, but despite your weird ass relationship, it's not that crazy that you did. Everything you've done for Nolan I would do for Travis in a heartbeat. Yeah, we're engaged and it's a little different, but you and Nolan have something really special. It's beyond me and everyone in the world for that matter, why you two don't just get over yourselves and date officially. You've worked through fights in the past, you'll work through this too." "But they've never been this big before. And I don't like that it was about his migraines. Even if he apologizes who's to say that he won't act like this again. I feel like I can't fault him for it because it's his way of dealing with them. But I also know that I don't deserve to be treated that way so I just feel like we're not meant to be." "Y/n, that's bullshit and you know it. You and Nolan are like, the perfect match. It's been a few days, I'm sure he's feeling better, you've both calmed down, so sit down and talk about it. You know you're not going to be able to study until you do."

You sighed knowing that she was right, "okay…yeah you're right. I'll text him."

You: Hey, Nol.

You relaxed into the couch, feeling a sense of relief now that you've had some sort of contact. You took a few sips of wine as you waited, but thankfully it wasn't too long.

Nolan: Hey, y/n/n…

You: Can we talk?

Nolan: Yeah, wanna come over after the game?

You: Yeah, just text me when you get home.

Nolan: You're not coming to the game?

You: I wasn't going to…I really need to study.

Nolan: Oh, okay. I guess I'll see you later.

You decided not to respond, you still weren't super happy with him, so you didn't think you needed to defend your decision.

"Alright, I'm going over there to talk after the game." You updated Meg.

"Good. So you'll get ready with me???" She asked hopefully.

"Sorry, Meg. I do really need to try and study. I'm gonna head out."

"Fine," she pouted, "but you better let me know how it goes tonight!!!"

"I will, bye Meg."

Between having the game on in the background and thinking about what you were going to say, you weren't able to get much studying done. But you still tried your hardest until you received a text from Nolan telling you that he was leaving the arena.

You were hoping he would be in an okay mood…they won the game but Nolan didn't play. You didn't think he was having a migraine, it was probably more of a precaution, but nonetheless he'd be upset that he wasn't playing.

When you got to Nolan's he was sitting on the couch with two glasses of water in front of him. You smiled at the gesture, although it quickly faded when you remembered why you were even here. He stood up to greet you and you went and sat next to him on the couch.

"That was a good game…"

"You watched?" "Of course."

Nolan nodded, "I just wish I could have played…"

You smiled sadly, "I know, I'm sorry, Nols. Not feeling good?" He sighed and leaned back, "I don't know, I mean, I feel like I could have played, but it's just not worth the risk of bringing one on…"

You sat in silence for a little bit, neither of you knowing where to start. Just as you were about to speak up, Nolan beat you to it. "I'm really sorry for the way I treated you the other day. I know that you were just trying to help and I know that you don't have to do those things for me but I really do appreciate it. I shouldn't have yelled at you and I shouldn't have dismissed you the way that I did. I know it's not a great excuse, but it was just really bad the other night, I knew that I wasn't going to be fun to be around that's why I didn't want you here. But I don't have an excuse for how I treated you that morning. I had no right to say those things to you, I don't even really know what came over me. You've always been amazing to me and you do mean so much to me, y/n/n, you have no idea. I just hope that you'll forgive me…" "I appreciate your apology, Nols. My intention is never to overcrowd you or make you feel like you need my help. I'm here to help you with whatever you need and it's okay if you need some space too. It'd just be nice to be let down a little easier…"

Nolan smirked at your last comment, "I know, I'm sorry. I promise I will be better at communicating my needs with you." He put his arm around you and pulled you into his side. You rested your head on his chest and he kissed the top of your head.

You're my nemesis, you're my best friend

We nearly walk on common ground

You really didn't have big fights like that often, but you did however argue about stupid, little things all of the time.

One of the things that drove you absolutely nuts about your relationship with Nolan was how different the two of you were when it came to planning things and being on time. Nolan was very "go with the flow" and "we'll get there when we get there" which you loved for him…but you were much different. You liked to have things planned and you absolutely hated being late.

You were hanging out at your apartment one Friday afternoon watching Netflix when you got a text from Nolan.

Nolan: Hey, I need a date to an event tonight. I'll pick you up at 6:45.

You looked at the time and it was almost 2 o'clock.

Me: Whoa, whoa, whoa…what kind of event?

Nolan: Pretty fancy, black tie.

Me: Nolan!!!!! I don't have anything to wear!!!

Nolan: You have tons of dresses.

Me: Not any that fit black tie!

Nolan: Oh, well if you go now you'll have time to get one.

You scoffed and shook your head. Of course, he'd tell you about an event a few hours before and be so nonchalant about it.

Me: Fine, but I'm not happy.

Nolan: Why? You love these things.

Me: Yeah, when I have time to prepare for them!

Nolan: What do you need to prepare for? Just get a dress and do your makeup or whatever.

You chose not to respond to that because you didn't actually want to start a fight. It was also hard to actually be mad at him when he really had no idea what was wrong with the current situation.

You sent an SOS text to Meg and asked her to meet you at Nordstrom to help you pick something out.

Two hours later, there was a mound of dresses and jumpsuits in your dressing room but you finally found the perfect one. It was a beautiful, sleek, black, satin jersey gown.

"You look so hot, y/n/n." Meg complimented as you spun around in front of the mirror.

"Thanks…I just still can't believe I'm just finding out about this stupid gala." "Yeah, it's a little annoying. But look at you, you found the perfect dress and you still have time to get ready."

"I know, I just hate when he does this. You know how I am about stuff like this." "Yes, I know, Miss Organized…but it's not the end of the world."

You rolled your eyes at your cousin and went into the dressing room to change.

You hopped in the shower once you got home and did your hair and makeup as quickly as you could while still making it look good.

You heard Nolan come into your apartment and you glanced at the time because you weren't ready yet. You breathed a sigh of relief to see that it was only 6:30. You finished up your makeup, put on your heels, and grabbed your coat before walking down the hall to greet Nolan. He stood up from the couch when he heard you coming but was engrossed in his phone so he didn't look up at you. You rolled your eyes and cleared your throat to get his attention.

"You ready?" He asked without looking up.

You ignored his question and said his name firmly, "Nolan." He finally looked up at you but still didn't say anything about how you looked. "Do I look okay?"

"Yeah, I don't know what you were so worried about, babe. You look amazing."

"Don't make a habit of, Nols. I was super stressed about it."

He gave you an incredulous look but sighed and nodded his head, "sorry, princess. I'll make sure to tell you a year in advance next time."

You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm and walked towards the door.

~~~

One other thing about you and Nolan was that you bickered…constantly. He honestly drove you nuts more often than not but for some reason that was why you loved him so much.

You would argue about what to have for dinner.

"Pizza?" He suggested.

"We always have pizza, what about Chinese?" You protested.

He rolled his eyes at your suggestion, "we always have Chinese, too."

"Sushi?"

Nolan shook his head, "I don't feel like sushi." "Sandwiches?"

"Nah…" "Well, I don't know, Nolan! Why don't we just go to the store and make something." "That'll take too long." You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "Whatever, just pick something, I don't care."

"You say that now but you're going to complain about it as soon as it gets here."

"Well we can't agree on anything so whatever, just get what you want." You didn't give him a chance to argue as you stomped down the hall to do some homework.

You always argued about directions.

"Why are you going this way?" Nolan asked as you made a turn.

"Because it's faster. There's always a ton of traffic the other way." "No it's not, this way is like 30 minutes longer. Even with traffic we'll get there faster the other way." "No we won't, Nolan. I drive this way all the time, it's fine, trust me." "Whatever you say, we're gonna be late though." "No we're not." "Yes we are." "No we're not!" "Yes we are." "Fine, if you're so worried about it, you drive." You huffed out as you pulled over and threw the car in park and got out of the car. Nolan shook his head at how ridiculous you were being but switched places with you anyway.

You ended up getting there 10 minutes late.

"I told you the other way was faster." You said as you climbed out of the car.

Nolan scoffed, "if you hadn't thrown a fit and just kept driving we would have been on time." "Are you kidding me? It took two minutes to switch places. That's not why we're late." "Whatever.…" He grumbled as he shot you a glare. You stuck your tongue out at him and he shook his head walking a few steps in front of you.

He hated that you always hogged the blankets.

To no surprise, Nolan woke up in the middle of night shivering with no blankets on. He sighed angrily and tried to pull the blankets over to him. He wasn't successful because you were all wrapped up in them and they were impossible to move.

"Y/n." He said nudging your shoulder. "Y/n/n." You stirred a bit but didn't wake up. "Y/n." He said louder. Nothing. He sighed again grabbed his water bottle from the nightstand. He poured a little bit on your face and you shot up in shock.

"What the fuck, Nolan?!"

"You were hogging the blankets!" "So you dumped water on me?!"

"You wouldn't wake up!" "You're such an ass." You seethed as you pulled the blanket back to you and rolled over to face away from him. Nolan scoffed at your action and tugged on the blanket. "Get your own blanket if you're so concerned about it." You said as you held onto it so he couldn't have any.

"And I'm the ass…" He muttered in defeat as he got up to grab a blanket from the other room.

You hated the way he put the toilet paper on the holder.

"Nolan!!!" You screamed from the bathroom. You were pretty sure at this point he was doing it just to piss you off. You hated when people put the toilet paper on upside down. The right way to put it was so the tail was on top. It flowed so much better and you didn't understand how people could think that it’s okay the other way.

As you angrily switched it around, Nolan was out in the living room smirking because he knew exactly what you were yelling about. He feigned innocence as you came stomping down the hallway yelling at him for putting it on like that. "Oh, I'm sorry babe, I didn't mean to."

You rolled your eyes at him and scoffed. "Seriously, Nolan. You know it pisses me off." "I know, I’m sorry, I just don't think about it when I'm changing it, because it's really not a big deal. It's just toilet paper."

"Yeah, but it's so much easier when it's right side up."

"Some would argue that you have it wrong." "Yeah they might, but they're stupid. If you don’t care, why can't you just put it the way I like it." "I try to, babe, I just forget sometimes." "Well please, try and remember."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

A few days later, Nolan went into the bathroom and chuckled when he saw a sign posted by the extra toilet paper.

Please put toilet the right side up. Thank you :)

Deciding he wanted to dance with the devil, he switched the toilet paper so it was the "wrong way." It took a while, but a few hours later he was in the kitchen grabbing a snack when he heard his name being yelled from the bathroom. He laughed and shook his head, preparing for the storm that was coming his way.

But we're suckers for the thrill, playing fuck, marry, and kill

Honey you're all three.

No matter how much argued, bickered, or fought, you loved him. He was your person. You were with each other for your best moments and you stuck by each other through your worst.

Your best friend, your lover, your soulmate. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

---

You and Nolan were enjoying a rare day off you had together lounging around the apartment. Nolan had noticed that one of his favorite bands, Mt. Joy were on Instagram live. He shot them a quick text asking if it was okay if he joined. They of course said yes so he hopped on.

You were in the kitchen baking cookies, only half listening to what Nolan was saying. However, you immediately stopped what you were doing when you heard something that Nolan said. "I'm just hanging out at home with my girlfriend. Enjoying the day off." Once you got over the initial shock you listened more intently to see if he would say anything more about it. "Yeah, we've been together for a while. Pretty much since I came to Philly." Your jaw dropped. Of course. Of course he would play it off as if you've been dating for years. Apparently you were lost in thought for longer than you thought because the next thing you know Nolan came up and waved his hand in front of your face. "You there?"

"Oh yeah, sorry." "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm your girlfriend, huh?"

He smirked at your tone, "of course you're my girlfriend. Am I not your boyfriend?" "Oh my god, Nolan!"

"What?!" "How long have I been your girlfriend?" He shrugged, "I don't know, I thought we were always kind of dating."

You scoffed, "unbelievable." He gave you a questioning look but you shrugged him off. "Nothing…never mind."

"No, tell me." He insisted.

"It's just, we never really talked about it or had the conversation so I didn't think we were actually boyfriend and girlfriend." "So we've just been…what, a thing? For three and a half years?"

"Well, I don't know, I guess. We've never celebrated an anniversary or anything. And this is the first time I've ever heard you call me you your girlfriend." "Oh, well, I'm sorry y/n/n. I guess after it had been so long I just kind of assumed." You gave him an amused huff. "What? Should we have talked about it?"

"No, no, I guess not…" you reassured, "it's just so…us."

"Us?" "Our whole relationship has been me overthinking and you under thinking, apparently…no offense."

He chuckled at your explanation. "You've been overthinking our relationship?"

"Well, yeah! I never knew what we were but you never seemed worried about it so I didn't want to bring it up."

"Okay…so if you need it spelled out for you…" he started earning himself an eye roll from you, "will you be my girlfriend?"

"I thought I already was?" You replied with a playful smirk.

He rolled his eyes at your teasing but teased you right back. "So are we good? We didn't just break up, did we?"

"No, I love you too much to give you up that easy." He raised his eyebrows at your admission. "Oh, you love me, huh?" You stuttered a bit, realizing that because you had been so insecure you had never actually said it back. "See I notice things, not such an under thinker, am I?"

"I'm sorry, it's my overthinking... I always just thought it kind of slipped out when you said it and because I didn't know what we were I was scared if I said it back things would end." "What?!" He asked, looking at you like you had two heads. "How does that even make sense?!" "I don't know!!" You defended, "I just thought…I don't know... I guess I really don't have an explanation. Just that I'm a little bit crazy."

"It's okay, I already knew that. Your insistence that there is a correct way to put toilet paper on the holder was a dead giveaway."

"Ha ha ha…" you fake laughed, "you do put it the right way now, though…"

"I can't have you going off the rails on me…"

You gently shoved him and shook your head. He smiled and cupped your face in his hands. "I love you, y/n/n. I always have and I always will."

"I love you too, Nolly." You said with a smirk.

Nolan grimaced at the nickname, "okay, maybe not when you call me that."

"Oh, come on, Nolly. You know you love it." "I don't...but I love you so I'll let it slide."

You stood on your tip toes prompting Nolan to bend down so you could kiss him. He picked you up and set you on the counter and you made out for a few minutes.

"As much as I want to make sweet, sweet love to you baby, this dough smells really good…" He said, suggesting you finish the cookies.

"Aye, aye, captain." You saluted as you pushed him out of the way and hopped off the counter.

For the rest of your life with Nolan, there wasn't a day that went by where you didn't want to fuck, marry, and kill him. But it never stopped you from loving him.

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nolan patrick imagine #nhl fan fiction

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hanoella · 3 years

Text

Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 3)

Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader

Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam’s who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he’s not the only one looking for a fresh start.

Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence

Part 3 Word Count: 3k

A/N: Can you tell I don't really have a posting schedule? lol. I also introduced links to the specific pieces I had in mind. I'm using soundcloud because I don't think everyone has access to spotify. Trying to be reader friendly! This can be read with or without the audio, as I do my best to still convey the thought in the fic. Though if you can, I highly recommend :)

Thanks again for all your support! Every heart and comment motivates me and is just so wonderful

Read Part 1; Masterlist

---

A few days had passed since the night that Bucky had overheard your troubles. It had been quiet since, and you hadn’t left the house. The curtains were opened during the day and closed at night, the only telltale signs that you existed.

Doesn’t she have to work? Bucky thought to himself. He speculated all the different possibilities as he used the riding mower around the property. Maybe you were an heiress? You seemed pretty down to earth though. Or maybe you sold a patented idea for a ton of money. All this land had to have been expensive. And to not request actual money from him?

He eyed up the width of the gate for your fence. The riding mower couldn’t fit so he would have to use a push mower for your fenced off yard. He hadn’t seen one in the garage. Maybe the old shed at the back of your yard had one? Bucky parked the mower in the garage, taking a moment to make a mental list of everything. Depending on if he found anything in the shed, he might need to buy a few basic tools and a chainsaw for that fallen tree.

He walked out of the garage and over to the shed. The leaves were changing color and it brought a whole new atmosphere to the secluded forest area. Opening the gate of the weathered white fence, he looked around to see if you were out. No signs of life. Entering the yard and closing the gate behind him, he started walking to the back. Halfway through, he stopped at the fire pit. The grey stone blocks were starting to crumble, with a few of the bricks having fallen off. It would probably be really nice if he got a little bit of cement mix and filled in the gaps. Bucky made another mental note.

The shed had no padlock so he was able to open it with no problem. Amongst the cobwebs and bags of soil, was an older green push mower that looked like it might work. He gave the gas a pull and got no response back. Looking underneath, Bucky saw what might be the problem. He’d have to take a closer look later. Putting the lawn mower back onto its wheels, he pushed it across the yard, pausing when he saw movement though the glass doors of the back patio.

Craning his neck to avoid the glare, he saw you sitting at your fancy full keyboard. The way the piano was against the opposite wall, your back was to him. You had big over-ear headphones plugged into it, so he couldn’t hear the sound but he saw the flurry of keys being pressed down. Whatever you were playing, you played passionately. Hands and arms gracefully moved despite the speed at which they were moving. Enhanced hearing coming into play, he heard the muffled clicks of the fluttering keys. Suddenly, you pressed down forcefully, holding whatever chord you had struck as your shoulders gently relaxed. A deep breath. Arm creating a graceful arc as if you had studied ballet, you pressed gently on another chord. And another. Bucky counted three more times you did this before you let your hands gently fall from the keys to your lap. Several moments passed before slid the headphones off of your ears to sit wrapped around your neck. Another deep breath. This time as the breath escaped you, you stayed slouched, head tilting up to stare at nothing on the wall.

A buzz broke Bucky from his trance.

“Call me, new mission” The text from Sam on his home screen said.

He pocketed his phone, glancing through the glass one more time. There you still sat.

Unmoving.

---

The roar of the plane’s engine was just loud enough to drown out Bucky’s thoughts without being annoying. If it weren’t for the adrenaline of the recovery mission under the cover of nightfall, he probably would’ve been lulled to sleep. Beside him sat Sam, looking on his phone for the exact coordinates of the politician they had been sent to rescue.

“Here it is. I’m assuming there’s some sort of underground base since there are no heat signatures anywhere within the radius where he was taken. It should take us about ten more minutes before we’re directly over it.”

Bucky hummed in acknowledgement.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Earth to Bucky.”

“What does your friend do?” Bucky asked suddenly, sitting up straighter and turning towards him.

“… What?”

“What does she do? I’ve never seen her leave the house. Is she okay?”

“If you’re asking why she doesn’t leave the house, it’s because her contract doesn’t start for a while. She’s technically still supposed to be in physical therapy but she hasn’t found a place yet. You know, your whole routine gets messed up when you move.”

“For her shoulder?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to look at Bucky, trying to decipher the motive behind these questions. Bucky shifted his weight in the chair, antsy under the scrutiny.

“Never mind, I-”

“Yes, for her shoulder.” Sam said, cutting him off. He stopped himself from asking why Bucky wanted to know. There was an awkward pause before Bucky explained himself.

“I just wanted to know. I’m not used to seeing people so…”

“Similar to yourself?”

“I was gonna say isolated but fair point.” Bucky admitted. Sam leaned back in his chair, looking straight forward.

“She’s been through a lot… I know you heard some of it.”

Bucky blinked in surprise.

“I realized the window was open when I could hear you drive off.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, it’s good that you know.” Sam said as he held up his hand to cut Bucky off.

“She’s just trying to get a fresh start. She’s in a raw emotional space and in the meantime is a little skittish. Just like someone else I know.” Sam jabbed his elbow into Bucky’s side as he enunciated the last sentence.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m trying!” He shouted as he held one hand up defensively and using the other to block the second jab Sam was trying to get in. Sam chuckled and then stood up, grabbing a parachute pack and tossing it at Bucky, who caught it without even looking.

“Figured you might wanna try an actual chute this time.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and mouthed Sam’s words mockingly with a grimace as he put the backpack on. Clipping it into place, he joined Sam at the side door of the plane.

“She used to play in an orchestra you know.” Sam said wistfully. “The piano. That’s actually how we met. She had volunteered to play a small concert before the dinner. It really helped raise a lot of money for the VA.”

Bucky stayed silent, prompting him to continue.

“Then that bastard she was engaged to beat her and then shoved her down a set of concrete steps when she tried to leave him. It was like a month after we all came back. She was in the hospital for a while. Broken ribs, broken shoulder, and a nasty concussion to boot. Neighbor saw the whole thing and called the cops but the courts were so backed up and the case fell through the cracks. Wouldn’t leave her alone after he got out. So, I pulled some strings and helped her move down here on the fly.”

“… That’s terrible.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say or how to react. They stood in silence, taking a moment to pay a respect of sorts to the trials you have been through. Then Sam broke the silence.

“She just needs time to heal in more ways than one. But she’s strong. Resilient.”

Putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, he squeezed it lightly with reassurance.

“Reminds me of someone else I know.” Sam said, finishing the conversation and pulling his goggles over his eyes, giving Bucky the opportunity to take the compliment without feeling too on the spot.

Pulling the door open, Sam shouted over the wind.

“Ready?”

Bucky nodded. Sam jumped from the plane and deployed the wings, the shield shining in the moonlight. Bucky jumped right behind him, using the glint of the silver star to guide his descent as he followed the man that gave the shield its meaning.

---

You laid with your head down on the kitchen table, letting the last golden rays of sun warm the side of your face. You were exhausted from going to physical therapy, especially since today had been the first appointment. All the measurements, all the exercises, all the stretching.

All the questions.

“So, how did you break your shoulder?” the young blonde physical therapist asked.

“Ah, I… fell down some stairs.” You said, looking down at your hands in your lap.

She didn’t look up from the papers, instead just raising an eyebrow.

“You also cracked some ribs and had a concussion?”

“… They were concrete.”

She looked up from the papers at you, analyzing. Her gaze softened and she asked no further questions on how these serious injuries had been obtained.

“Let’s look at your range of motion.”

You had practically stumbled into the house, kicking off your sneakers and plopping down at the kitchen table. Minutes passed by as you regained your breath, heartbeat steadying. The house was slightly cold since you had turned the heat down this morning. As your sweat cooled, you wrapped your arms around your legs in an attempt to keep you warm without getting up.

The sun feels so warm… You thought to yourself drowsily, feeling slightly less lonely. The sun was a cheap substitute for the warmth of a partner…

---

You jolted upright, the kitchen dark and cold. Neck and shoulder stiff from the awkward position you had dozed off in. Feeling the dryness of your mouth, you got up, stretching your neck gently while you walked to the fridge to get water. Chugging about half the bottle, you squinted at the clock. You had been asleep for about forty-five minutes. Groaning, you put the bottle down on the counter and walked into the living room to close the curtains. Grabbing one in each hand, you went to pull them together when you hesitated, noticing that Bucky’s apartment was dark for the third day in a row. The sleek motorbike that was usually parked under the slight overhang of the garage was missing as well.

He was probably on a mission, right? Not that it was any of your business. You shut the curtains and turned off the lights before lightly padded down the hall, stopping to adjust the thermostat. The heat kicked on, sending a puff of cold air your way. You shivered as you walked with a quickened pace to your room, shutting the door and heading into the master bathroom, turning the hot water on with just a tad of cold.

Waiting for the shower to warm up, you leaned over the sink and looked into the mirror. Dark circles under your eyes. Small scar on the bridge of your nose. Running your hand through the roots of your hair, you felt for the scar where the stitches had been. When was the last time you had a haircut? Or put on some makeup?

Some higher being must’ve felt pity for you since the steam from the shower fogged the glass, preventing you from tearing yourself apart any further. Stepping underneath the warm stream, you let the warmth seep into your muscles, then bones, filling every fracture and break with a temporary sense of wholeness until the emptiness of your heart and home caused it slowly to drip out until it, along with you, was gone.

---

The next morning, you weren’t motivated to do anything. You lounged around the house, sipping on coffee and browsing on your phone for furniture, clothes, even sneaking a peak at some pianos. Wanting to invest in one you’d use for the next several decades, you had put off buying one until the money from your contract with the orchestra started in a month. You were still well off, nowhere near struggling and probably wouldn’t ever be unless you decided to buy a mansion (which was a no). You just wanted to be careful.

In the afternoon, you popped a pain killer and muscle relaxer in preparation for the few hours you wanted to practice. Thirty minutes went by and the ever-present ache in your shoulder calmed enough to let you practice with relative peace. Sitting on the bench in front of the keyboard, you pondered what you might play to warm up.

Hmm, maybe a Chopin prelude? Short, emotional, familiar.

Your left hand held the soft deep chords as your right hand softly flitted around the higher notes. Breathing in and out with the music, you tried to ignore the ache that start to surround your shoulder.

Playing the last few notes, you paused before reaching over to the bottle of painkillers.

---

Shortly after finishing up, you dragged a small table outside next to the wooden bench swing that was hanging on the porch. Bundled up in a soft sweatshirt, long-sleeve shirt, wool lined leggings, fuzzy socks and slippers, you brought out your hot tea, several blankets, a pillow, and a book you had been meaning to read for months. You were determined to do something besides practice, watch TV, and scroll on your phone.

You settled onto the bench, wrapping the blanket around you, nice and toasty from the layers trapping in the heat of a thorough practice session. The extra medication had really helped keep the pain at bay. Tentatively sipping the steaming cup, you closed your eyes to further appreciate the sweet tones of peach and honey. Setting the cup in your lap with one hand, you used your other hand to flip open to the first page.

---

Bucky hadn’t expected the mission to get so complicated. Finding the base was one thing, navigating in and out of the expansive maze was another. It took a few days to successfully get the target out and back to the embassy. He hadn’t properly slept during that time due to taking shifts with Sam. Not that it was any different from how he slept at home.

The sun was letting its last few rays bless the earth when he turned onto the driveway. Taking it easy on the gravel, he eased his posture and slowed the bike. He put pressure on the brakes as he made it past the final wall of trees that hid the water that was reflecting the last bit of color left in the sky. Rolling casually into a stop, he parked and let out a deep breath, shoulders sinking.

A stray bird calling out turned his attention in the direction of your house. The porch light was on. That’s new, he thought. Squinting his eyes, he saw a bundle on the porch swing. Was that you? Quietly walking over while taking his leather gloves off, he confirmed his suspicions. There you were, lying on your side propped up by a large fuzzy pillow. Eyes closed and breathing rhythmically. Scanning the scene, he noticed the mug on the side table, empty except for the used teabag. Your book was closed, the page you were on marked by one of your fingers. You must’ve fallen asleep while reading.

“Hey…” Bucky said gently. No response besides a small nose scrunch.

He repeated himself a little louder, squatting to be at eye level while gently setting his hand on your arm and shaking you lightly. You groaned this time, eyes fluttering open, taking a moment to focus. You squinted and pushed yourself up into a sitting position, losing your place in the book and attempting to blink the heavy drowsiness from your eyes.

“Bucky?” You questioned hoarsely as you met his eyes. He was still crouching so you were looking slightly down at him. Brow furrowed, you searched the blue of his eyes before looking around to see how dark it had gotten. As you turned your head back to him, he stood back up, scratching the back of his neck just to occupy his hands.

“It’s starting to get cold. I didn’t want you to spend the rest of the night out here.” He explained, choosing to look out at the water, now dark. When he turned his head back, you had also turned your head to look at the water, exposing the side of your neck, the tendons and clavicle accentuated by the strain. Bucky swallowed and your eyes met his, oblivious.

“Ah, thank you. I must’ve fallen asleep reading. I just started going back to physical therapy so I’ve just been so wiped… Anyway,” you said, dismissing yourself mid-thought. He didn’t want to hear about all that. “…did you just come back from a mission?” You eyed the diagonal cuts of leather on his jacket, noting the missing sleeve that exposed the glint of the metal.

“Yeah. I was gone for a few days.”

“Okay. I’m glad you’re home safe.” You mindlessly said, picking up the book and other various items strewn about.

Home safe. What an unfamiliar phrase.

As the words echoed in his mind, you had opened the door and stepped in, turning your head slightly to look back at him.

“Thanks again… Good night.”

“Good night.” Bucky replied, watching as you shut the door softly behind you.

Slowly walking down the porch steps, he crossed the driveway to the garage. Turning his head just in time to see the last light turn off in your house, he stood with his hand on the knob, meditating on the effect that one short sentence had on him.

Glad you’re home safe. Was this what it was like when you had someone waiting on you at home? The tired eyes and gentle smile. Would that be what it was like when he came home in the middle of a night from a mission when he had someone to share a bed with? Gently shaking them to let them know he was home? Or would he try to sneak into bed without waking them? He tried to imagine what that sort of intimacy would be like as he entered his apartment and then his room. Unzipping his jacket and tossing it over a chair, he stripped down to his boxer briefs and climbed into bed, wondering what it would be like if it was already warm.

#bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #SoundCloud

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lasquadrasfuckhouse · 3 years

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Hi! Can I ask for la squadra reacts to a Ghost in their base who love singing like a siren. But other members can't see or hear.

This is my first asking, im not sure of i did it correct.

Thank you so much♥️♥️

you did wonderful!!! i LOVE this concept. i wrote more general 'la squadra if their base was haunted' stuff here so i'll be working off of that

this one's dedicated to both the ghost that would hum in this one washroom at my high school when no one else was there and melissa the beautiful scene queen ghost that haunts my house and sings fall out boy and mcr with us 🙌

la squadra with a singing ghost in their base 🎶

first and foremost all of them would probably make sure it's not a stand attack and THEN would make sure they're not hallucinating but once those explanations are out of the way, here's what would follow

risotto ✂️

he's mostly just kinda confused but he doesn't let it bother him. he's a logical dude: you can't prove ghosts but you can't exactly disprove them either so he's just kinda like.... ok i guess

the singing is nice, actually. eerie but very beautiful. as long as he can still sleep, he doesn't mind. if he can't sleep, he may like.... politely ask please no singing while he's trying to sleep? he really doesn't know how to talk to a ghost. but they seem nice.

he won't go out of his way to either interact with them or avoid them and it doesn't really bother him that no one else can see or hear them. they just kinda peacefully coexist.

if the others ask him about it, he'll tell them straight up about the singing ghost, as long as the ghost doesn't appear distressed about being known to the others. but he doesn't want this ghost thing to distract them either, so he reminds everyone to keep their heads on.

prosciutto 🚬

prosciutto is dumbfounded. for real? a ghost? this is ridiculous! and why is he the only one who can see or hear it? he's just kind of annoyed by it more than anything.

the singing is rather lovely, though. if there's too much noise going on in the house and he's getting a headache, that's probably the first time he'd try like, talking to them? to be like, please--and he feels ridiculous just talking to thin air or an apparition--no singing rn. he will begrudgingly thank them when they stop, and while he's at it he may as well let them know that they do have a beautiful voice there's just too much noise right now. the ghost seems to like the compliment.

it's very soothing otherwise. maybe after some time has passed since that first interaction and he's the only one in the house, he may ask why he's the only one who can see or hear them, cause he is a bit curious. whether the ghost has an explanation or not, he'll just kinda be like aight then

really he's a bit curious about the whole ghosts existing thing in general but he just kinda takes what he's presented with. may not give straightforward answers about the whole ghost thing if the others are making a ruckus about it, at least at first, cause he doesn't want to rile em all up.

pesci 🎣

YEAH, HES FUCKIN SCARED. he can't explain it, he can't get rid of it with his stand, and now he feels embarrassed b/c he thinks he seems either incompetent or silly. in reality at least the others know that lying isn't his style so some of them are starting to wonder if he is seeing something unexplainable

the singing gets his teeth chattering. sure, it's pretty, but it's chilling. catch him hiding under the blankets with his pillow pressed over his ears.

he may very meekly ask the ghost to leave him be if they're around him and he'll leave them alone too. way too scared to interact with them and avoids them almost at all costs.

won't initiate conversation about it. some of the others may goad him on to freak him out more. be nice to pesci you losers!!!!! >:( but even if someone asks nicely about it he won't want to talk about it much but he'll be relieved that someone believes him.

formaggio 🧀

yeah, all cockiness goes out the window when he realizes it's a ghost. like, he tries his best to cling onto the attitude, but honey he is freaked out. no ghostes for him thanks

the singing gives him shivers. he'll be like HAHA YEAH.... REAL NICE VOICE YA GOT..... BUT IM NOT GONNA FALL FOR THAT....... U AINT POSSESSIN ME but the ghost is literally just chillin. he doesn't trust like that tho

may try some methods of banishment he remembers from his nonna. even if they don't work in the sense of forcing them to disappear or leave, the ghost probably still gets the message and leaves him be.

will insist with a hand over his heart that yes there IS a fucking ghost and no way in HELL is he fuckin w/ it or joking HES NOT JOKING HE SWEARS, but will puff up his chest like yea i told that ghost to get lost!!!! my love you are fooling no one everyone heard you shrieking like a little baby.

illuso ✨

he's actually a bit freaked. thought it was ridiculous until he actually couldn't find an explanation for it and it's unnerving that he was somehow singled out. should he be flattered? yes yes he knows he's lovely and cool but please don't only show your ghost activities to him or preferably no ghost activities at all

because he's freaked out he may lose his cool and yell into the air to shut up with the singing, which really does not help him feel any better.

with time, he may just get used to it, seeing as the ghost doesn't really do much aside from being a ghost and sing. he might come to appreciate the singing for how pretty it is, too.

will use the opportunity to scare everyone and definitely won't give straightforward answers just for the fuck of it

melone 🍈

VERY fascinated. thrilled, honestly! how fucking cool is it that there's a ghost right in front of him? too bad the others can't see or hear it, but he supposes that makes him lucky.

will compliment the ghost on their beautiful voice and ask a whole bunch of questions. why is he the only one who can see or hear them? do they like to sing just because? are they bound to the base, or to him, or something else keeping them tethered to this world? do they know what's beyond? can they see or interact with their stands? souls exist, seeing as someone's stand is a manifestation of it, so are ghosts souls without bodies? or something else?

he's just very curious and friendly, maybe a bit overbearing, but he's just excited. even with all his questions, he avoids asking how they died cause even though social cues aren't his strong point (especially with the dead????), he still figures that must be pretty rude to say the least. he may happily sway to whatever tune they're singing or find himself humming it later.

will be very excited to share this with everyone as long as the ghost is okay with that. doesn't care if he sounds silly or the others don't believe him, that's not his problem. will assuage any fears from the ones who are more scared by the idea of a ghost (they're just a person!)

ghiaccio ❄️

this is dumb!!! ghosts aren't supposed to be real!!!! that doesn't make any sense!!!!! goes on a rant about how ghosts don't make sense, and maybe he'd be less ticked off if they made sense. like, sure, souls exist cause stands exist. but like, what the fuck? he's honestly not scared, just annoyed.

it's extra annoying how he's the only one who can see or hear them. he's another one who gets irritated when there's too much noise in the house, so he'll yell to cut it out with the singing, if you're gonna make him talk to the air and do ghost nonsense at least don't bug him with it!!!! but soft singing in the quiet is actually very relaxing. he'll find himself sighing and just about falling asleep to it.

he's not good with words and how the fuck does he talk to a ghost but over time he may be like hey.... nice singing. when the other assholes aren't being noisy too. he'll still grumble about it not making sense until he makes sense of it, but he gets used to it.

on that front, he may actually talk to melone about it. he thinks a lot of melone's pseudoscience stuff is nonsense but he's got something concrete right here and he wants to understand it and melone is great at working with weird ideas so they try to make sense of ghosty things

sorbet and gelato 🔪🍦

they're both just kinda like. well i'll be. sorbet isn't bothered by it, gelato is like oooo how chilling but isn't like, actually scared. he's the one who may fucking flirt with the ghost like oh my is there a reason it's only us who can hear your pretty voice?? ;) sorbet thinks that's pretty funny.

and their voice is pretty! they both really like the singing, they find it beautiful and soothing and it keeps things interesting on base. what's not to love?

sorbet continues just doin his thing, but he will nod to the ghost in greeting when he sees them and exists comfortably with them, he's very chill about it. gelato will chatter and joke and flirt and be like hey let's duet this [SCREAMS] just to fuck around and see if he can make them laugh

they will both absolutely play it up to freak out the others. eventually if their antics get to be too bothersome risotto will tell them to cut it out, and they'll be like 'no problem capo, there really is a ghost tho' and then that causes a whole new wave of fuckery through the squad because even sorlato aren't crazy enough to lie to risotto's face after he told them to knock it off which means there is a ghost but HOW MUCH IS TRUE AND HOW MUCH IS THE TWO OF THEM FUCKING AROUND??? it never ends with these guys.

#THANKS FOR UR PATIENCE I LOVE PARANORMAL STUFF AND THIS WAS RLY FUN #la squadra #risotto nero #prosciutto #pesci #formaggio #illuso #melone #ghiaccio #sorbet #gelato #vento aureo #ask

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lettertomyself · 4 years

Text

Blue Sweaters

Pairing - Ava x MC

Word count - 7.1k

Emma burns.

Not because she’s warm, she’s the opposite, actually, it’s pretty chilly.

No, she burns because she’s angry. She’s mad, she would like to punch a wall if the opportunity ever arose.

When Emma thought about going to the homecoming dance, she’d imagined bright lights, romantic songs. She’s imagined Mason and her slow dancing for exactly the perfect amount of time until the moment felt just right and they both leaned in for the perfect kiss. She’d imagined fireworks and butterflies and everything else that’s supposed to happen when you kiss someone you’d loved all your life. Emma, however, had not imagined her date getting into a fist fight with somebody else. She hadn’t expected being kicked out of the dance, hadn’t expected never having that perfect dance along with that perfect kiss. Emma is angry about many things, dates getting into fights, being kicked out, and above all, she’s angry that this whole day, homecoming, feels like a waste. After the game, when Mason asked her to the dance she recalls feeling so much. Now she’s just angry. She huffs, pacing outside with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Because as she walks, even though she is absolutely burning with rage, and anger, and indignation and everything else right and valid, she also feels rather cold in the autumn air. It’s pretty chill for October. Not for the first time that night she wishes she hadn’t had Mason be her ride. Emma, still likes him, maybe, but right now she feels as if she has the right to be mad, and if she sees his face right now with all his bruises and a sad look in his eyes, she might be inclined to forgive him, and she will later, but right now she thinks she deserves the right to stew in her anger for just a little bit longer. She shivers, rubbing her arms again. If only she could stew somewhere warmer. For a moment, Emma considers calling her father to pick her up. Immediately after she shuts it down. She can practically already hear the pride in his voice, when she’d inevitably have to tell him why she had to leave. She knows that he’s said he’s going to be a better father and that should be enough, and she wants to think that it will be, but then she remembers all the looks he gave, and the things he’s done. Her father has always told her ‘actions speak louder than words’ and more than anything, she thinks he should take his own advice. His actions spoke volumes. Emma remembers the police station, how he wouldn’t drive her home so she could think about her actions. Emma only wishes he thought about his. So, Emma clenches her fists, she’s not calling her father. For one second, she debates walking, then her heels pinch at her feet, and the sky seems to get darker in relation, as if to say, ‘you really want to walk home, now?’ Emma doesn’t, actually. What can she do? Mason’s busy getting chewed out by the principal. That’ll take a while. Emma chews her lip, maybe she should wait for him, he’s her only option right now. She just doesn’t know if she could handle the awkward car ride home. She could probably roll with the awkwardness, but does she want to? Emma pulls out her phone and opens her last conversation with Mason. mason: on my way, excited to see you tonight! emma: ok!! see you soon <3 Emma winces, she remembers debating for five minutes on whether she should send the heart. Those five minutes ended abruptly with Mackenzie breaking into her room, grabbing her phone, and pressing send before Emma could stop her. (“It’s not that big of a deal,” Mackenzie had said, Emma had been too busy trying not to cry to respond.) It hadn’t mattered in the end, Mason had sent a heart back a few minutes later, and all her worries had evaporated into fuzzy-happy feelings. She had felt so happy then, now she just feels tired. Emma starts typing before she can convince herself not to. emma: hey, so i was wondering if... She paused. Wondering if what? How is she supposed to phrase this in a way that won’t make her feel like a jerk? She yelled at him, and now she’s asking for a ride. Emma’s never felt more hypocritical in her life. She glares down at her phone, at the stupid hearts, at her stupid half-written text message, at Mason previously saying he’d be happy to see her, and she agreed, but he was wrong. She was wrong Emma is back to burning. She’s in the process of trying to melt her phone into lava with her stare, when someone puts their hand on her shoulder. Emma jumps, and almost drops her phone. She doesn’t, luckily, she doesn’t want to know how her father would react to that a broken phone She almost tells the person to leave her alone until she looks up.

She blinks, Ava Lawrence?

Haven’t had a conversation that hasn’t ended in argument in forever, Ava Lawrence?

That Ava?

Emma is having trouble processing, that Ava Lawrence, Ava Lawrence, would want anything to do with her.

If Ava noticed anything weird about her, she doesn’t mention anything. Instead of saying anything, Ava just leans against the side of the building with Emma, tapping her foot against the brick, and resting her head against the wall. The moment is so terrifyingly normal that Emma suddenly feels horribly nostalgic. Ava must feel the nostalgia seeping into the atmosphere too, because she smiles.

Emma hasn’t seen that smile, a genuine one, in a very long time. It’s nice, the kind of smile that sparks fireworks in the hearts of everyone ever. It makes her want to smile too.

“You cold?” Ava asks.

She blinks, “What?”

“You’ve been out here for a while, ever since the fight.”

Emma starts, “You noticed?”

“The fight? Where Mason threw Noah into the punch bowl? The one half the dance recorded? I think everyone did,”

“No, no, not that, you just, “She trails off, clearing her throat, she can’t help but notice how dry it is, “You noticed I was gone?”

“Yeah, duh. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emma is having a considerably difficult time finding only one answer to that question.

“Right,” She settles on.

Still, the guilt from before is piling up. Ava, the person’s she’s been a horrible friend to, is being nice. Ava, who noticed she was gone. Ava whose very smile makes something twist inside of her chest.

Even though her burning anger from before has since settled, there’s something about her that makes Emma still feel the slightest bit warm.

“So,” Emma starts, “Did you have fun at the dance?”

“Nope,” At Emma’s guilty look, Ava laughs,” Not because of the fight, the fight was the best part actually, gave me a chance to talk to you,”

Ava bumps Emma’s shoulder with her own, Emma finds the spot their shoulders touched scorching hot.

Emma laughs awkwardly, she doesn’t know how to take the compliment, and she feels weird. She thinks she might be coming down with a fever.

“You could’ve talked to me before,” Emma says.

“Yeah, I guess,” Ava turns away for a second,” But it wouldn’t have been talking,”

“What?” Emma frowns.

“We haven’t talked in forever,” Ava stresses the word, turning back to face her, there’s something unreadable in her eyes, “Not actually talked, it just- it wasn’t the same.”

She tenses, “I’m sorry. With Mason I thought- “

Ava cuts her off, “It’s not just Mason, it was like this before him, we just never acknowledged it, we should have acknowledged it.”

Emma feels her chest tighten, because Ava’s right. She remembers pulling away from their friendship in early sophomore year. She doesn’t remember why exactly, but that was also the year her crush on Mason escalated to the extreme. If she’s being honest, she doesn’t remember much from that year. It was all valentines’ cards with too much glitter and staring at the ceiling at night thinking of elaborate ways to profess her love for someone who didn’t like her back. She hadn’t realized but maybe in pursuing Mason, she had been pushing Ava further and further away.

Except maybe he did like her back then. Emma wonders why the thought makes her feels worse. She rubs her arms, it didn’t matter anyway, because there’s a part of her that regrets all the pining. She spent all those years, hoping he would one day look at her as more than a friend, and now that he has, she doesn’t know if it was worth it.

All she can look at now, is Ava, and the way their friendship has deteriorated for so long and Emma hadn’t even noticed. She never considered that the reason they hadn’t been talking as much, wasn’t just a senior year thing, but an entirety of high school thing. And it wasn’t because of Mason, not in the way she thought it was, it was all because of her.

The guilt Emma carries swirls, and if it’s possible, seems to grow even larger.

Emma suddenly does not feel very good.

She wraps her hands around her arms, taking in the night. It’s late, but it doesn’t seem like anyone else notices, everything is still just a little bit too loud. Cars rush past in the main street, and the streetlights are glowing in the way they only can in the night. As she stares, Emma feels the wind brush past her arms, she can feel the chill of it on the back of her neck, she shivers. The moon glows, and Ava’s presence beside her seems to glow even brighter. Though Ava’s the closest they’ve been in a while, Emma has never felt lonelier.

She rubs her shoulders, there’s so much to say. She doesn’t know to start.

An apology is always a good start.

“I’m sorry,” She looks down, twisting her fingers, “This is my fault,”

Ava doesn’t say anything, and Emma’s scared to look up, so she settles on staring down at the ground, there’s a crack in the concrete, that could be dangerous if left unchecked, she focuses on that instead of the weighted stare of the person beside her.

“This is all my fault,” She says again, it's easy to start with facts, “I’m a bad friend, and I don’t think I’ve been a good one to you in a very long time.”

She continues, her voice shaky. “I guess, I got distracted by Mason, for-- for years. And I never got undistracted, which is my fault, and I should have been paying more attention to you, because we’re here and they’re there, and, and, and-- I don’t know why any of it was so important.”

Emma’s throat burns, she doesn’t know if it’s because she’s just spoken more words than she should have, or if she just really, really wants to cry. She decides it might be both.

She isn’t going to cry, but she does sniff terribly loud because she is two seconds away from crying, and it is just as embarrassing.

Emma looks down resolutely at her shoes, she knows if she looks up, she’ll see Ava’s expression, and whatever is on her face, will either destroy Emma or make her cry. Either way, she’s two minutes away from running away and never looking up. Her feet will hurt running in heels, but she thinks it might be worth it rather than having to look into Ava’s face and only seeing disappointment.

‘Emma,” Ava says. It’s one word, just her name, but Emma looks up immediately. Somehow Ava has managed to stand directly in front of the moon, the perspective makes Emma breathless, the full moon is like a halo to Ava. It makes her heart jump-start. Emma can’t put a name to this thrumming in her chest, but it feels new, she isn’t sure if she’s ever felt anything this intensely.

There’s something in Ava’s eyes, the same unreadable look she’d seen before, but this time it seems sharper. Before Emma can look too closely, it softens. Ava smiles, and with the moon behind her Emma thinks this new feeling might be killing her.

Ava’s smile brightens, if that’s even possible, and she grabs Emma’s hand. “Do you want a ride?”

“Okay,” Emma focuses on their hands together, wondering why it seems so important, suddenly deciding she would like to never let go.

The drive home is nice. It seems like old times, when they would sing out of tune in the back of whoever’s family’s’ minivan, back when they were only kids and they would sing as loud as they wanted to. They couldn’t drive places on their own yet, they also didn’t know how to sing, but that didn’t stop them, it was fun.

Emma misses it, before her mom died, before her father became who he is now, before everything became so much worse. She misses being out of tune.

Emma looks over at Ava, crooning to whatever song’s playing on the radio, and yet is still somehow still driving perfectly. Emma wonders how she does it, but Ava is perfect at many things, so she isn’t all surprised. Emma might recognize the song, but she can’t tell over Ava’s terrible singing. She is somehow off-key on every single note, Emma didn’t think it was possible, but Ava exceeds expectations. Emma knows that technically Ava is probably the worst singer ever, but looking over, seeing the grin on her face and the joy she radiates clear as day, Emma thinks she might be the best.

Emma must look embarrassingly sappy looking over at Ava, but she can’t help herself, she’s lucky to have her friend back.

“What are you looking at?” Ava teases, glancing at Emma.

“You,” it slips out, and Emma is only momentarily embarrassed at the brutal honesty, “Your voice is incredible, you know?”

Ava rolls her eyes, still smiling, “Okay.”

“Really, “Emma insists, “Incredible, it’s very… powerful, and strong, and--“

“Okay, Emma,” Ava laughs, and Emma is suddenly very glad she isn’t driving, she feels she would forget how to function at the sound, “I know I’m not good. It’s fine, I’m not trying to be. Sometimes it’s just fun to sound bad.”

Ava continues, glancing over for a second, “You ever just… have fun?”

Emma wants to answer, but she doesn’t exactly know how to. She tries to remember the last time she’s had fun. It’s more difficult than she thought. There’s the time she spray-painted with Mackenzie, but that had ended in the police station with more bad memories than she knows what to do with. That night had started fun and ended with Emma trying her hardest not to cry. She doesn’t know if that counts as fun, she would like to think it did not.

Then there was the time she took pictures of the football field, that was fun too, for a bit, until Mason and Noah had started fighting. Emma frowns, Mason and Noah certainly fight a lot. She supposes she might have noticed before, but tonight, at the dance, was just the tipping point.

But hanging out with Ava has always been fun.

“’m having fun with you,” Emma turns, resting her chin on her hand to look out the window. It’s getting late, she wonders what time it is.

“Oh,” Ava says. She doesn’t continue for a moment; Emma vaguely wonders if she said something wrong.

“I mean,” Ava starts, her voice strangely high, “I mean- besides me, what do you do for fun?”

Emma hums, “I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” She sighs, “I’ve spent so much time focusing on Mason, that I guess that was fun to me? I don’t know.”

“Mason? You don’t like him anymore?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’m mad at him, I think. Am I allowed to be mad?” Emma asks, she trusts Ava, she’s right about many things.

“You’re allowed to be mad.” Ava confirms.

“Okay, then I’m mad.”

Emma spots the moon outside her window. She scowls at it, then quickly stops, the moon’s done nothing wrong.

“Are you always going to be mad?” Ava asks.

“Maybe.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Ava raise an eyebrow.

Ava really is right about many things, “Okay, okay. Maybe not. We’ve always been friends, that’s hard to ignore.”

“Right. But you don’t like him?”

“No, “She starts, turning away from the window to look at Ava with an incredulous expression. “Do… you like him? Again?”

Emma can see it, Mason’s very charming. She likes to think she wouldn’t necessarily mind if they got back together, not that she doesn’t like Mason anymore, but for some reason it makes her skin itch, she really hopes she wasn’t lying to herself when she said she got over him.

“No. God, no.” Ava snorts, “No offense, but dating him was a nightmare.”

Emma winces, “That bad?”

“Worse.” She laughs, “He kissed someone else at a party, while I was in the other room. Who does that?”

Emma apparently, Emma does that. Emma would also like to open the car door and jump out due to guilt and mortification.

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad at you, “She pauses, “Well, I was. But now I just find it funny. “

“I’m still sorry that happened, “Emma says. It sounds weak to her own ears, but Ava doesn’t seem to mind.

“Don’t be. It was the push I needed to break up with him.”

Emma looks down at her fingers, twisting them. “Did you ever like him?”

“He’s on the football team, he’s nice, good grades. What isn’t there to like?”

Ava sounds more like she’s trying to convince herself rather than Emma. The conversation from the roof comes to mind, and Emma bites her tongue. She doesn’t know what to say to that.

It’s quiet for a bit. The radio is still loud, playing something on the Top 40’s. Emma tunes it out watching the road move as the car drives. It’s entrancing.

She almost doesn’t notice the road signs. “Oh, we take a left here—"

“I know, I remember.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, of course,”

Something in the words makes Emma smile. She remembers. She doesn’t know why it matters so much, but she can’t stop smiling at the thought. She knows that technically they’ve been friends for forever, and Ava remembering isn’t something entirely significant, but it still fills Emma with all kinds of warm and fuzzy feelings. Because she remembers.

Emma hides her smile in her palm as she looks out the window. This is fine, an absolutely normal thing to smile about.

She steadily avoids looking directly at Ava, she feels that in that moment, it might be like looking at the sun.

As time passes, she can feel her eyes drooping, the landscape starts to blur together. Emma’s been feeling rather tired lately, she thinks this must be a good as time as any to sleep.

Time flies by in flashes. She remembers shivering and feeling terribly cold. That could have just been a dream, Emma thinks, she doesn’t feel cold anymore. The radio that was so loud before, sounds incredibly soft now. There is a warmth in her chest, she doesn’t know where it came from, but she would never like it to leave. Emma feels content and she wonders, if only briefly, when the last time it was that she might have felt anywhere close to this.

She feels someone nudge her shoulder. Oh, Ava.

Emma yawns, she’s very tired, going back to sleep doesn’t sound like too terrible of an idea.

Ava nudges her again, “We’re here, at your house.”

Emma blinks, “Oh, okay. Thank you.”

“You look tired, “Ava comments. “Maybe you should go to bed,”

“I’m not tired, “Emma tries to protest, but considering she can’t seem to keep her eyes open; she doesn’t think she’s being very convincing.

“Okay,” Ava says simply, from the smile on her lips Emma can tell she doesn’t believe her. The smile pulls at Emma’s chest, she feels very floaty all of a sudden.

“Really!” She stresses.

“Okay, I believe you,”

Ava’s still smiling, and Emma’s chest is still doing somersaults and maybe Emma does need to go to bed.

Emma starts to cross her arms, to protest that even if she is feeling tired, it doesn’t matter, but there’s a blanket in her lap and it stops her in her tracks.

At closer inspection, it isn’t a blanket. It’s a sweater. Blue, soft, large, and everything good at once. She decides she loves it immediately.

“What is this?” Emma asks.

“One of my sweaters, you looked cold, so…” Ava trails off.

Emma is having trouble remembering how to respond. She’s distracted by many things but pushes away all the ones that start with ‘Ava’ and focuses on one.

“But… but you were driving- “

“Not when I gave it to you, the light was red,” Ava looks amused, meanwhile Emma is trying to remember how to breathe, “Just because I don’t know how to sing, doesn’t mean I don’t know how to drive.”

“Right, I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

Emma’s still a little preoccupied by the warmness of the sweater in her hands so she sounds more sincere than she meant to. But she’s tired, her brain to mouth filter is slowly disappearing, she can’t bring herself to care. She missed Ava, with her things are easy.

Ava hums in agreement.

Emma takes a second to look out the window. The porch-light to her house isn’t on, which either means her father isn’t in, or he is, and he plans to interrogate Emma as soon as she steps in the door. She’d much rather have the former.

“I guess I should be going.” Emma has never sounded as reluctant as she is now.

Ava nods, it warms Emma’s heart that she looks just as hesitant.

“Um, thanks” Emma starts,” for the ride, it was nice of you. You didn’t have to.”

“And let you have to ask Mason for a ride? I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“He wouldn’t be awful, but-“

“But it’d be awkward, right? I wouldn’t do that to you.” Ava smiles, “Besides, this way, I got to save you and hang out with you,”

Emma can only smile, “This is much better than having to ask Mason.”

“The bar is on the ground, but I agree.”

Emma snorts, Mason really isn’t that horrible, but she imagines a car ride with Mason with awkward small talk, and no radio, and having to talk about the weather of all things. She decides she’d rather be nowhere else other than here with Ava.

She smiles, “I really like hanging out with you, Ava.”

“You’re so sappy,” Ava comments, “But, okay, I really like hanging out with you, too.”

At Ava’s words, she can feel her heart jumpstart. She feels tempted to hide her face in the sweater and never emerge from it. She’s smiling so much, and she doesn’t know if she can stop. Emma is a pile of goo, and she is never going to emotionally recover from this.

She doesn’t know what this feeling is, but it is on the tip of her tongue.

Emma thinks about the sweater in her lap, about how Ava turned the radio down when she was asleep, about how Ava notices more about her than maybe anyone else. Emma thinks about the warmness in her chest, and the smile that never seems to leave. She feels the buzz in her fingers, and the non-stop drumming in her heart. Emma thinks of many things and feels even more, she isn’t sure if she understands it yet, but she would like to.

“No, I mean,“ Emma isn’t very coherent, but she is full of tired words, and they are big and heavy and bursting to get out, “I’ve been thinking about all the time I spent thinking about Mason, when I really should have just been thinking about you,”

Emma’s chest feels lighter, like the words she’s been carrying have always been a weight she has never been able to let go off.

She doesn’t know when, but the atmosphere in the car has gotten significantly heavier. Almost like the heaviness in her chest has left to encompass the air of the car.

Emma doesn’t notice herself look away from Ava, but she finds that her gaze is fixed on the dashboard, she isn’t sure she can tear it away.

Right when the thrumming of Emma’s chest reaches an extreme, Ava reaches over grabbing one of Emma’s hands in her own.

“Are you, “Ava says, “thinking now?”

“Yeah,” Emma says immediately, its breathy, and it sounds so unlike her own voice she almost doesn’t recognize it. She’s looking at Ava now, and she doesn’t think she can stop, doesn’t think she wants to

And Oh.

Oh.

That’s what the feeling is.

The feelings she couldn’t understand were feelings. Romantic ones, for Ava specifically.

There are so many things she doesn’t understand, so many things she doesn’t know yet, but she does know, right now, that the thrumming in heart points to Ava. She knows that many things point to Ava.

Emma would like to say something, but the words die in her throat. She’s glad for it, she isn’t sure what she would have said.

They’re closer now than they were before, Emma’s having trouble thinking, and all she can focus on is Ava’s hand in hers.

Just then, the porch light turns on, then off, then on again. Its flickering, like a siren without the sound. She’d be worried if her father hadn’t done this exact same thing every time Emma went on a date. Emma groans, her head falling onto the dashboard. She debates sinking lower into the passenger seat and never being seen again. She figures she could do it, if she really tried.

“Sorry, that was--,” Emma cringes, “that’s my dad, he must be wondering why we’ve been sitting here for so long,”

If Ava is bothered, she doesn’t show it, Emma meanwhile might be dying of embarrassment,

“It’s fine, not like we were making out or anything,”

Emma coughs, feeling her face burn, “Yeah, that’d uh, good thing we weren’t doing that, not like I would mind or anything, but that’d be crazy.”

Ava looks amused, Emma feels she might have done something terrible to have deserved this.

“Um,” Emma gathers up all her belongings, embarrassment clear as day. Emma is absolutely mortified, “I should get going, I’ll text you?”

Ava grins, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind or anything, but that’d be crazy, right?”

Emma groans, “Can we please forget that ever happened?”

Ava’s grin grows even larger, “I don’t know, I think it was cute.”

Emma would like to scream, she doesn’t of course, but she would like to.

She doesn’t know how to respond articulately to Ava calling her cute, so she doesn’t, instead Emma opens the door as best as she can, it’s hard when her face is as warm as it is.

“I’ll text you later though, okay?” She can hear the smile in Ava’s voice, and she almost trips over the sound as she walks over to her flickering porch-light. She turns around, before she can trip, and flashes a thumbs up, alongside a shaky smile.

When Emma reaches her front door, Ava starts to drive off. Before she does, Ava gives her a bright smile, it warms Emma up all the way to the top of her head. Emma tries to return it, but it’s hard, she never has liked going home, especially when she knows her father’s waiting, ready with a lecture.

She watches Ava’s car turn the corner, it is only then that she steels herself, letting the smile drop. She turns around, unlocking the door, she can do this. She can’t help but think about how much she already misses Ava.

Her father is not mad. It’s so surprising, Emma thinks it’s a joke at first. Then again, her father has never exactly been funny.

He only sits her down and questions why she was in the car as long as she was. He heavily implies that if she were making out with anyone, he’d be fine with it. Emma heavily implies that ‘no way, she would never, why would you even think that?’ She gets the feeling he might not exactly believe her, and she understands. Her face has never felt as hot as it does now. She’s still burning with the mortification of her father thinking she might have been making out with someone, alongside the mortification of her father not being too far off.

She hadn’t been making out with Ava, but maybe she wanted to?

She rubs her hands over the soft fabric of the sweater Ava had given her. Emma hadn’t meant to take it from the car, but in the haste of not dying from embarrassment, she must have accidentally grabbed it. She had forgotten about it then, but she can’t bring herself to now. The fabric is so soft and warm, it reminds her a bit of the fuzzy feelings she feels with Ava.

Ava, who she has feelings for. Ava, who she has romantic feelings for.

Emma, who for the past ten minutes has been sitting on her bed questioning everything she’s ever known, covers her face with her hands and groans.

She has never been one to deny her feelings. She feels things strongly and loves even stronger. But so far in her life, she’s never loved anyone other than Mason. This is new territory for her.

Emma’s only known she’s had a crush for twenty minutes, but in those minutes, she has had many thoughts and one hundred percent of them have been about Ava.

She fingers the sweater in her hands, its soft, warm, perfect sweater material, a part of Emma wants to make a joke about it being ‘girlfriend material’ too but she smothers it down. She wonders where Ava got the sweater, she’d like her own, for reasons entirely unrelated to Ava, of course.

Huffing, she grabs her phone. Telling Ava that she accidentally stole her sweater, would probably be the kind thing to do.

When she unlocks the phone, she frowns. Her half-written text message to Mason still displayed. At the sight, she feels guilt swirl in her chest, the fuzzy butterflies she felt with Ava disappearing.

She left without a text, or acknowledgement, or anything. The last time they spoke to each other, was harsh, primarily on Emma’s side. She doesn’t regret it; she is angry about all the fighting between Noah and Mason. She is angry that it came to a boil at the dance. She’s angry about many things. But she feels the anger slowly calm, like a thermometer settling at ninety-nine. On the edge of burning, but not quite there yet.

Emma isn’t burning anymore. She looks down at the sweater in her hands, maybe she’d had a little help with that.

She figures she and Mason should probably talk soon, but for now, Ava.

She switches to her last text conversation with her, it wasn’t recent. It hurts more than she thought, but they’re friends now, it’s fine.

She exhales, first conversation with Ava after the realization.

Emma: hey! You left your sweater

Emma: and by left i mean i accidentally borrowed it

Emma: and by borrowed i mean stole

Emma: on accident

Emma: anyway do you want it back?

Before she can type anything else, she throws her phone as far as she can. Luckily, it lands with a thump on the other side of her bed. She doesn’t need a cracked screen, but she also doesn’t need to feel tempted to send any more texts than she just did. She doesn’t need to be more embarrassed.

Emma grabs a pillow and screams. This is fine.

She sits on her bed, legs crossed, very adamantly ignoring the phone beside her. This is also fine.

Right when she thinks she might pick up her phone, just to check If her messages were even that bad, she has the sneaking suspicion they were, but It wouldn’t hurt to check, her door opens.

Mackenzie enters with all the grace of a younger sibling, meaning none at all. There’s a bit of bright blue paint on the side of her face, something tells Emma her sister was doing one of her extracurricular activities.

“So,” Mackenzie begins, grinning and shutting the door behind her, “How was the dance?”

“Boring,” She elects not to mention her date getting into a fight, and being kicked out,” Where were you?”

“Around,” She waves her hand, deeming it unimportant, walking over to sit next to Emma, “Dad lecturing you for thirty minutes straight was a good distraction, so thanks for that.”

She’s glad it was helpful to someone. The entire time, she thought her Dad was going to be stern, or angry, or something. But he wasn’t. He just talked. He wasn’t as patronizing as he used to be, and that just unnerved her even more. It was relieving, but it felt strange.

“I thought he was going to yell at me, but he didn’t, is that weird? That’s weird, right?”

“He’s trying, I guess.”

“I know, it’s just.” She frowns, “It’s weird.” Emma fingers the sweater again, apparently anything reminding her of Ava is very calming.

Mackenzie follows her eyes, “Hey, where’d you get this?”

“Nowhere,” She says too quickly.

Her sister looks suspiciously, “Mason?”

“No- “

“Noah?”

“No-“

“Then who? They’re the only two people you ever talk about.”

Emma knows that technically, saying that she took Ava’s sweater wouldn’t raise any alarms, they are best friends. It’s just the context of the sweater that makes her second guess it. The way the sweater in her arms reminds her of Ava caring about her, and that reminds Emma of the realization she’s had earlier, and that means feelings and it’s too late to deal with feelings right now.

She’d like to keep her feelings to herself as long as possible, they’re new, and she isn’t sure she’s ever felt anything like this before.

“Nobody’s. I accidentally took it from the dance, I’ll return it later.”

Mackenzie doesn’t look like she believes it, but she isn’t going to push. “Okay, well, it’s a nice sweater anyway,”

“It is,” Emma says softly.

Mackenzie raises an eyebrow as she pretends not to notice.

“You have a little bit of paint on your face,” Emma notes, changing the subject.

“I do?” Mackenzie rubs her face, missing the spot entirely, “Did I get it?”

She tilts her head, “Um…”

Mackenzie stands, “I should clean this off, I don’t want dad to, uh,” She gestures around with her hands, “You know, he’s fine with it but he isn’t fine with it.”

“Yeah.” Her dad wasn’t fine with a lot of things.

Her phones chimes, Emma itches to check it, but she can show restraint, she can do it.

“Are you going to check that?” Mackenzie asks.

Emma can, in fact, not do it.

She grabs her phone a little too quickly. Her shoulders slump.

Mackenzie looks over questioningly.

“Just Mason.”

“Just Mason?” She says full of disbelief, “I thought you were in love with him, or something.”

“Or something,”

Mackenzie frowns, she looks ready to ask something, and Emma cuts her off.

“Its’s fine,” She can’t have her little sister worrying over her, it should be the other way around. “He didn’t do anything bad, or whatever, I just don’t think I like him anymore.”

Emma resolutely ignores the part of herself than knows she doesn’t like him anymore. The same part that grips her phone tightly, ignoring his messages and waiting for someone else’s.

“Okay.” Mackenzie says, she doesn’t look as concerned as she used to, but there’s still a bit of it in her eyes.

She’s hesitating a foot away from the door. The question on whether she should stay or not is written in her posture.

Emma exhales, “It’s fine,” This time it’s steadier, she raises her shoulders confidentially. “You should wash your face. There’s still paint.”

Mackenzie sighs, “I didn’t get any of it?”

She laughs, “No, I think you might have just smeared it more actually,”

“Seriously?”

“No,” She teases, laughing at Mackenzie tired glare, “But there is paint, you should clean that off.”

“Fine, whatever, “She rolls her eyes, letting out a small smile that Emma beams at in return, “But, just know, that if Mason ever does anything-“

“He didn’t!”

“But if he does!” Mackenzie cuts her off, “If he does- I have experience in graffiting cars. And Mason has a really nice car. So, if you ever want me to do anything, then-- “

“That’s so mean!” Emma covers her face in her hands as she tries not to laugh, she shouldn’t be encouraging this. “Besides the last time you did that; we ended up at the police station.”

“Psh, he could take it. They’re rich.” She waves it off, as if she was not currently planning a felony, “And, this time we just won’t get caught.”

“This is illegal and a crime, but it’s also very sweet of you, so thank you, and I love you.”

Mackenzie stumbles back, pretend disgust coloring her face, “I tell you I’d commit a crime for you, and you tell me you love me? You’re so sappy.”

“Maybe a little,” She grins, “But so are you, planning on committing crimes for me, in case I’m ever hurt? That’s sappy.”

“Gross, no.”

Emma only grins a little brighter in response.

“No.”

Even brighter.

Mackenzie’s glare grows more intense, before she huffs, crossing her arms. “Whatever, fine, maybe. But I’m going, I’m washing this off,”

Emma waves, smiling even more. Mackenzie sticks her tongue out as she leaves.

Even after Mackenzie leaves, Emma still has small smile adorning her face. Teasing her little sister is always fun. Plus, it distracts her from other things.

Things like her phone. Her phone which is dinging and lit up. Emma never has been able to stay distracted for long.

She closes her eyes, breathing in once and then twice, and then a third time just for good measure. It probably isn’t even Ava; she doesn’t know why she feels this stressed out.

She grabs the phone, blinking, it’s Ava.

The universe just might hate her.

Ava: I didn’t think you stole it haha

Ava: Besides even if I did

Ava: I was going to give it to you anyway

Ava: I thought it would look cute on you :)

Emma decides the universe does not hate her, not at all.

For a second, she wonders why the smiley face makes her feel like the sun itself, all warm and bright, then she remembers feelings. She debates screaming into a pillow for the second time that day, but then figures that Mackenzie, one room over might hear, and she decides it isn’t worth it.

As she debates on whether she should send one smiley face back or two, Emma decides that she isn’t burning with anger for Mason or Noah or whoever else anymore. She isn’t burning at all anymore, but her face does feel incredibly warm whenever she texts Ava.

The Monday morning after homecoming, Ava offers to pick Emma up for school. It’s been so long since that happened that Emma, understandably filled with warm-fuzzy-feelings, spends an embarrassingly long time just staring at the notification, before eventually answering with an appropriate amount of smiley faces and exclamation marks.

She stares in the mirror for longer than she usually would, smoothing down anything and everything. It’s weird feeling nervous for these things. Riding with Ava has been something she’s been doing for so long in high school, it only recently stopped, but those few weeks where they didn’t talk as much as they should’ve had, had more of an impact on her than she thought.

And now Emma has, feelings. She has very little idea what to do with them. Before when she had feelings she’d ruined one of her best friendships, the ruined another good friendship, then ruined another one.

Basically, Emma is a mess when it comes to feelings.

She sees her phone ding with a text from Ava to know she’s outside, and Emma gets increasingly more nervous, what if she ruins their friendship for the second time?

Emma shakes her head, actively trying to dislodge the nervousness from her brain.

She spots the blue sweater Ava had given her, folded delicately on her dresser, it reminds her of the night before, when things had been so warm and comfortable. She remembers right before her dad had called her inside, when they’d been so close, and the only thing Emma had been able to focus on was the pounding of her heart, or how close they were. She wonders what might have happened if her father hadn’t called her in.

This is fine, she thinks, Absolutely fine.

She grabs her phone and backpack, and resolutely goes downstairs.

She almost trips on the last step, and Emma figures it might be the world telling her she’s right to be nervous today, she ignores it.

She takes a breath before opening the door, when she see’s Ava’s car she tries to relax, but she can still feel the tense of her shoulders, and the swirling ball of nerves in her stomach. She’s nervous she’s going to do something wrong, or say something weird, or reveal these feelings that are still so new.

Emma can spot Ava, one hand on the wheel, but otherwise relaxed. She’s singing to something on the radio, the windows are closed so she can’t hear the song, but from the way Ava’s bopping her head it’s a good one.

Ava spots her too, she grins and waves, motioning for Emma to come closer. She rolls down the window, and a song that’s too loud for seven am, pops out of the car. “Come on, this is my favorite song!”

Even though the smile Ava gives her, makes her face feel dizzyingly warm, and her breath catches at the back of her throat at the idea of Ava grinning at the sight of her, Emma feels the nerves in her stomach loosen at the sight. She feels a laugh start to bubble up. She doesn’t even know why she was worried. It’s just Ava, it’s always been just Ava.

Emma finds that warm-fuzzy-romantic feelings aren’t bad when they’re Ava. In fact, she finds they’re the opposite.

Taglist - @kamilahsayeet2063 @veenast @samanthadalton @sarasansone98 @thequeenkamilahsayeed

#playchoices #mtfl #playchoices fic #mtfl fic #ava x mc #this whole thing used to be 12k but i cut it down alot believe it or nor #also guys dont worry about the end #i have sequel plans #it just might take me a bit because im kinda busy with school #anyway!! second fic hope you guys like it.

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haltandcatchfiretothemax · 4 years

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FEMSLASH FEBRUARY 2021 #19: In which Cameron finally talks to Donna

PREVIOUSLY

When Donna got home from work, she found Cameron sitting on the single step outside of her front door, long legs stretched out straight in front of her down the concrete walk. She was wearing a beat up leather jacket that Donna had never seen, and a ragged pair of light denim jeans that Donna could swear Cameron had owned since at least 1985.

Her bag over her shoulder and a thick accordion file of documents to be read under her arm, Donna walked toward her. “Needed a change of pace from waiting for me in the kitchen?”

Cameron quickly folded her knees up, and put her hands on her shins, as if she was trying to contain herself. “I guess? But also I don’t think Haley is home, actually.”

Donna stopped in front of her. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long?”

Cameron wasn’t sure what time it was, or what time she’d gotten there; it wasn’t important. Without preamble, she said, “I talked to J0e last night.”

“Oh, really?” Donna asked brightly. Then, face falling, she said, “Oh my G-d, is he okay?”

Cameron rolled her eyes, more at J0e than at Donna, and said, “He’s the same. You know how he is. He said that Simon called him though.”

Donna’s face lit up again. Shifting her accordion file to her other arm, she said, “Oh, that sounds nice! I hope it’s nice for them.”

Cameron anxiously tapped at the toe of her sneaker for a few seconds. And then finally, she said, “I asked him how he knew that he, you know. Liked Simon.” Donna looked curiously at her, and then Cameron said, “Or, not just Simon. Simon wasn’t the first guy he had a thing with.” Taking a deep breath, Cameron admitted, “I asked him how you know you like someone. Who you’re not supposed to like. Specifically because they are the same sex. Or, gender, or whatever. Because you are a person who, you know, likes people who are the same sex or gender as you.”

Donna adjusted the strap of her bag, and then in the same voice that she used to use when politely arguing with one of the male partners at AGGEK, said, “Oh. You know what, I would also be interested in the answer to that question. What did he say?”

Cameron looked at Donna, slightly flabbergasted by her response, or seeming lack of response to ‘a person who likes people who are the same sex or gender as you.’ “Uh, he said, ‘it’s different for everyone’? And that you sort of ‘just know’ and then you spend, like, years of your life parsing out what it means?’ Irritably, she said, “Which actually wasn’t all that helpful.”

Donna nodded. “That sounds like him.”

Cameron played idly with one of her shoelaces. “I also told him about Tori Lowman. I’ve never told you about her, have I?”

Quietly, Donna said, “I don’t think so.”

“She was my best friend when I was little,” Cameron said. “Her family had an airstream, and we used to play in it. I always thought of as playing ‘airstream,’ but, uh, it’s been brought to my attention that we were basically playing house? I don’t really know. I just know that I wanted to see her every day. I wanted to spend all day in the trailer with her, and I wanted to have sleepovers with her every night. Like, for the rest of time? And I used to think, ‘well yeah sure after your dad died you were traumatized so you wanted to be with your one friend at all times.” Cameron shrugged. “But it wasn’t just that. I felt like that before my dad died. I remember telling my dad that I loved her.”

Warmly, Donna said, “She was a very lucky little girl then.”

Cameron’s face flushed bright pink. “You think?” She sighed nervously, and then said, “I felt like that about Mutiny, back in Dallas. But it wasn’t just Mutiny. It was you. I wanted you to come over so that we could work and argue with each other every day for the rest of time.”

“Cam,” Donna whispered.

“I wanted to feel that way with J0e, you know?” Cameron frowned. “I sort of did, sometimes, but, we just had too much baggage. He was controlling, even when he didn’t mean to be. I used to wonder how Gordon put up with it. Like, literally, seriously, how did he work with him? Like, how did he keep J0e from steamrolling him?”

Thoughtfully, Donna said, “I wonder if maybe J0e was different with him because he was a man.”

Cameron grinned up at Donna. “Maybe? I always figured Gordon was better at dealing with him because had you. And your kids.”

Donna smiled warmly at her. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“That’s how I meant it,” Cameron grinned up at her. Then she looked down at her shoes, and she said, “I was jealous of Gordon. And it used to annoy me that he wasn’t a better husband to you. I remember thinking that I could do better, and not just because he had phases where he set the bar pretty low.” She paused briefly, and then continued, “And now you’re single, and I’ve been worried that your gonna meet someone, but it’s not because I’m weird and clingy, and it’s not because I’m traumatized and have abandonment issues, it’s not because I’m insecure about being undateable and unloveable or worried about dying alone, though I have worried about those things. I’m worried that you’re going to meet someone because, I wanna be your someone. I wanna be your boyfriend.”

Donna grinned at her. “It is really a good thing that I like surprises, because you’re full of them, aren’t you?”

Apologetically, Cameron said, “It’s part of my charm?”

“Yes, yes it is,” Donna agreed. “And I actually mean that, I’m not saying it in the jokey, self-deprecating way that you are.”

Cameron stood up, and looked down into Donna’s eyes. “I don’t know…a lot of things, actually. I don’t know how you feel or if I should be your boyfriend, or, what have you. I just know that no one has ever made me feel the way you make me feel, Donna.”

Shifting the accordion folder again, Donna lightly said, “Well, the feeling is pretty mutual.” She looked at Cameron, with her wide, anxious eyes, and then said, “You wanna come in?”

“Sure,” Cameron nodded. She took the folder from her.

Donna was about to turn to the door so that she could unlock it, “Oh, or, you know what - do you maybe wanna go somewhere?”

“We never do that,” Cameron mused. “Where did you have in mind?”

Turning the lock, Donna glanced back over her shoulder and said, “You remember that bar went to the night we bought the fake XTs?”

“Back in Dallas?”

Donna opened the door. “There’s gotta be some place like that here where we can go, right?” She stepped inside. “I’m gonna go change, I’ll be right back,” she said. “Then we can figure out where we’re going.”

She went up to her bedroom, and Cameron lingered in the doorway, as if she hadn’t been there before, many, many times. It sort of felt like she’d never been there before. She felt different, but not in a bad way.

A few minutes later, Donna returned, in her best-fitting and most flattering pair of jeans, an oversized dark red sweater, and black boots that had a small heel. It looked as though she’d smoothed her hair down, and refreshed the light coral, peachy-nude lipstick that she usually wore. Cameron realized, for the millionth time, how beautiful and vibrant she really was.

Happily, Donna said, “Okay, ready?”

Cameron smiled at her. “Yes, actually. You have no idea.”

#just pickin' up where i left off in 2019 NBD!#whatever it's fine i'm just gonna think about cameron in her leather jacket for the rest of lockdown #happy friday bbys!#femslash february #femslash february 2021 #fan fiction #cameron howe #donna clark #donna emerson

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raevenlywrites · 4 years

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The Ties That Bind 13 of ???

I couldn’t settle after the oaths. I just couldn’t. The ground seemed to hum with power, and as much as I wanted to do my part to be agreeable, I could not focus on peace talks while my head sang with ancient resonance. I felt half-blinded by ghosts, though as Zane had said scent wasn’t the word, sight wasn’t right for what I was sensing either. It was as if my body was trying to inhabit a different life, moving through steps that were not my own. Something important to the Shardae magic had happened here, and under other circumstances I might have been intrigued, even followed where it led. But I could not focus on either it or Zane, so eventually I gave up on both and asked to return to the farmhouse. If Zane was disappointed to leave this place of such significance to his people--and apparently mine--he didn’t show it.

I sent Karashan towards the serpiente lands and Raymond to the Lyssia farm, both looking out for the serpiene guards that would be coming to join Adelina and Zane. The rest of us walked with the serpiente, I in deference to their lack of wings, and my remaining guards split between ground and skies as was their formation when I was in the fields. So we had plenty of advanced warned when Raymond returned with news of a small army.

Army was too strong a word for the score of soldiers, but it was exactly the word for their intent. They had swarmed the Lyssia farm and set up a base--so that my mother and her branch of the Royal Flight could land in safety.

The air in the farmhouse had shifted considerably. Where the Ladies Lyssia had been careful but relaxed around myself and Zane, they were positively on edge around my mother. Maybe the difference was the swarm of soldiers, but having felt exactly this way in my mother’s presence myself, I was fairly confident she was the cause.

Power poured from her, responding to the emotions we usually kept so carefully leashed. It would take a song to give it concrete shape, but there were battle cries as well as lullabies in our body of hymns.

I held to Zane’s hand tightly, partly to extend my shield of control to him, partly to keep my body firmly in line with whatever shot any soldier might take. I knew I couldn’t guard him from every angle, but this was the best I could do.

My head still rang with power, distant echoes of that long forgotten memory we’d raised in the ruins. It wasn’t as blinding as it had been, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was walking in someone else’s footsteps. The wind seemed to whisper in the forgotten tounge as the wings of so many soldiers filled the skies. They circle like vultures, I thought, scenting death on the air. It served to fuel my determination. No more blood would be spilled. I had sworn it.

So had Zane.

We approached my mother hand in hand, her fury lashing out to reach us at the sight. I stood firm, bolstered by the power of my vows and Zane’s hand in mine. I wished I held Rei’s hand in the other, but I understood the man at my right needed to be free to react to whatever may happen. He would always be my soldier first and friend second. It saddened me to know that this war had taken him from me even as he walked beside me still. Raymond on his other side was another ghost, the memory of Vasili so strong in his presence here.

I was filled with an overwhelming sense of having done this before, having faced down this queen before. Only her face kept swimming, the golden aura of her power going ghostly white, silvering with the patina of false memory. I shook it away, even as it cried out at being disregarded. I couldn’t untangle these ghosts right now. I needed to be present.

“Shardae.”

One word held the entirety of my mother’s displeasure. Question, condemnation, concern, command--my mother could get so much mileage out of so few syllables. I’d always wished for such clarity of purpose when I spoke, dreamed of the day I could address the Council or even a single General with such authority. But when I answered her now, I felt my voice cling on the way out, made small by something inside me that did not know how to be anything else.

“Mother.”

“We were most distressed at your letter,” she said, voice utterly void of emotion. It had all leeched into the power that was coursing and snapping around her. “Once we had actually received it.”

Beside her, her closest guards flinched. Just a tightening around the eyes, but it was there. I wondered if standing that near to her was hurting them, or if they were recalling a fuller fury when she’d been given word that her daughter had acted outside her authority.

It was such an odd dance between mother and me now. Something had gone out of her at Xavier’s pyre, burning away as completely as the body of her last son. She’d told me then that my time as queen had come. But then there were moments like this, or when she’d ordered us away from the Mistari camp, that her insistence she step down seemed so... empty. How was I supposed to lead our people without the backing of their current queen? We couldn’t survive a war on two fronts. We just couldn’t.

“We appreciate your concern for Zane’s wellbeing,” I answered, deliberately misinterpreting her meaning. “As you can see, my healing--“

“Danica, please.” Her words cut mine down, slicing through the sorry lie as cleanly as the paper it had been written on. “I don’t know why you felt the need to concoct such a ridiculous ruse. It’s idiocy is what had me tearing through field and forest looking for you. I’d thought it the work of traitors; I know my own daughter would never pen something so ridiculously and obviously false.”

I felt my own anger try to rise, the urge to scream building in the back of my throat. This was why my speech always came out so small; if I gave it any rein at all, it would roar out of me, years of things unsaid pouring out in a vicious wave.

Zane squeezed my hand, distracting me from my control. My eyes darted to him for only a second, but I thought I saw him smiling. Was it his arrogant mask, or was he trying to encourage me?

I gave up trying to craft a delicate response. I simply spoke my mind.

“Why is it so ridiculous, mother? Why is it so hard to believe that if I received word of someone in need of my aid that I could go to them? I sat with Gregory Cobriana even though there was no hope of saving him. Why then would I not sit with Zane Cobriana, if he asked me to come to him?”

Zane’s hand tightened in mine again and I squeezed back, wishing I could give him a smile as well. But I had to keep my composure, both for appearances and for the sake of the power that danced so erratically in the air.

“I was hurt, Nacola,” Zane said, startling us all. “My heart was sick with despair--“

“How dare you!” a guard snapped, though whether it was at his lying to the queen or addressing her by her first name, I couldn’t say. Beside me, Zane said softly, “Adelina.”

I dared to glance at his other side, where Adelina had slipped into that carefully ready pose. With a mad giddiness, I realized it could just as easily be the beginning of a dance as a fighting pose. My heart ached to see Maeve’s kin so ready to fight. Those white scales were the most beautiful in the firelight, dancing with hot reds and golds to compliment the cool blues and purples of my lady’s power--

I shook my head, violently, trying to dispel these double visions. The power was too thick, I couldn’t breathe.

“Enough,” I gasped, though it somehow rang through the space, even though I’d barely had breath to send it on its way. It rode on the eddies of power like a wing on the wind, going where the currents pulled it.

“We should not fight like this,” I said, feeling the words as both my own and not. I gave up trying to dispel the power and just let it guide me. “I would not stand against you, mother of my heart, but neither will I stand with you in war.”

My mother shivered, shimmering in the power that swirled thick between us. Its silver light snaked across her skin, forming almost patterns, almost letters--

“You know I do not desire war,” she said, and again, the words sounded echoed, doubled back on themselves and twisting with whispers of wind. I clutched Zane’s hand tighter. I desperately needed its grounding, something solid and real to keep from falling to these ghosts. I had never seen such magic before--never seen any magic at all. But I had also never stood at the scar between my mother’s power and mine. Maybe that was the difference.

“Then we have no reason to fight,” Zane said, startling us all. Her voice--his--was a misstep, a tiny dissonance in the building song.. But I felt the tide of it, and would not let it slip away. I had sworn to Emune and Raymond on this very ground that this war was ending. I called on that and the words Zane had just spoken to me in the ruins, and hoped they would be enough to shape whatever power we were weaving.

This war was ending.

“These hands are sworn to peace,” I said, feeling my words take us further from that ringing place where the ghosts of the past tried to swallow us down. “Kiesha’s kin has sworn to help me build a peace, and before two of my flight I did so swear that I would reign in peace.” It was an odd choice of words to call on Zane’s ancient ancestor, but it was too late to question the names of power I was drawing on. So much of magic was simply instinct, clinging to whatever ancestral knowledge still guided us.

“So, mother,” I concluded, feeling the power condense as I prepared to hand it off, “will you leave peacefully, or will you have me foresworn?”

Or will you risk my words turn back on me, I added silently to myself, and have me never rule at all?

The air was thick, with power, with tension, with those spidery silver lines that seemed to be the weft of fate itself. I clutched at Zane’s hand in mine, and again was startled by the timber of his light tenor voice against the memory of richer alto that was supposed to go with those scales.

“And I as well. I have sworn to do no more harm save to defend myself, and as Arami of the serpiente that extends to all my people as well. I gave that oath to the heir of the Tuuli Thea, and will give it again when she becomes queen.” He squeezed my hand and gave me a wink, completely at odds with the serious nature of the moment. “Just to make sure it sticks,” he added wryly.

“Enough of this,” my mother said, sounding only like my mother once again. Zane’s wrongness seemed to shattered whatever contest of wills had been building between us--no doubt his intention. “Shardae, this is no place to conduct royal business. If you wish to treat with the serpiente prince further, can we at least move these discussions somewhere more secure?”

“Secure for you,” I heard Adelina mutter, and felt Zane’s spine stiffen. But she had a point.

“We had been intending to spend the week somewhere more neutral,” I said with forced lightness. “The rest of Zane’s guard are already on their way. So unless you intend to invite them all back to the Keep, I think Zane and I are good out here, thanks.”

My mother bristled. “You can hardly expect me to let you spend a week in the wilderness with a serpiente-- Andreios, speak some sense into her.”

I boggled at that. I’d expected her to order me, dismiss me, bodily drag me back to the Keep even. But to entreat Rei?

To my utter shock, Rei took my free hand.

“Until Danica declares me her pair bond, I can only speak as her guard. The Arami has sworn not to harm her. I don’t like it, but it’s not my place to forbid her from doing things I don’t like. I’m sorry, my queen, but your daughter is as headstrong as yourself. No one has ever been able to talk either of you into doing anything you don’t want to. Unless a fight breaks out and I am forced to bodily evacuate her, I don’t think there’s any appeal I can make that I have not already tried.”

Except for that one, I thought, understanding now why he’d taken my hand. The kiss in the ruins hadn’t changed anything for me, but apparently it had been all the go ahead Rei needed to declare himself my pair bond. It made me want to snatch my hand away, but as he’d also said, that was mostly stubbornness. I was grateful for his show of support, and felt powerful with both men on my side. Surely my mother would see now that the tide had indeed shifted, and it was time to let me rule as she kept saying I should.

“So that’s it then,” she said more than asked. “I just return to the Keep and try to calm the tide of frantic people with the reassurance that you just want to take a little camping trip with the Arami of the serpiente?”

“I don’t think Danica cares much for the idea of camping,” Zane said with his false cheer. “The woods didn’t seem to agree with her.” To me, he said more quietly, “If your people need you then you should return. We can continue our talks another time. There’s no need to lose what ground we’ve gained here today through stubbornness.”

I bit back a sigh. “I don’t think you understand my mother. After this little stunt, I’ll be lucky to have only four guards on me at all times. There will be no getting away, and absolutely no way she’ll let you come to me.”

“Is she queen here or you?” he shot back.

Fair enough.

“Prepare the court,” I finally answered her. “Let them know that once Arami Zane’s escort arrives, we will all be returning to the Keep to continue our talks.”

The Ties That Bind Tag list: @thehellinsideyourhead @therecouldbecolorsandlove @adventuresofacreesty @writing-with-melon @rainydaydarling

Raev’s Gen Tag List (should I tag you guys in this? It IS a thing I wrote. I’m gonna say yes unless you guys are like “no of course not we’re sick of hearing about your stupid fic for a twenty year old book XD)

No one has complained yet so yall gonna keep getting tagged :P

List is currently: @lordkingsmith @writinglyra @drbibliophile @mperialscribe @adie-dee @adie-dee @lexiklecksi @writinginslowmotion @raenawrites @apollon-arium @anika-writes

#raev does fic #hawksong fic #the ties that bind #hawksong

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mysterioh · 5 years

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The Ignorant Beauty and The Beast of New York - Ch. 15

pairing: mob!steve rogers x reader

synopsis: y/n is an exhausted bio major. steve is danger with a capital danger. she thinks he’s a sarcastic prick with an impressive knowledge of art history. he thinks she’s cute even if she’s only running on one brain cell. l he wants is a single date, but she’s adamant upon denying.

A/N: Hi! I changed my url I was lovemeterwrites. I know it’s been a long time so sorry for the wait!

MASTERLIST

A Very Manly Heart to Heart

Your fingers were intertwined with his.

They’ve been all night.

At first, his touches were subtle, shy, nudges hinting of wanting something more. Something only you could give him. And as the night unravelled, you gave into his gentle pleas. Your hand slipped perfectly in his while waiting in line at the boba shop.

It caught him off guard at first. He whipped his head towards you with wide eyes flitting back and forth between your clasped hands and you perusing the menu on the wall. You acted like it was nothing. As if it's always been like this. Fingers crossed against his, palms pressed against each other like two puzzle pieces with a perfect fit.

And when you pulled him along to find a table, his footsteps felt lighter, his insides felt like jelly, and the world seemed a bit brighter.

Tonight it was boba. The night before it was coffee at the bookstore. The night before that was milkshakes at an old diner.

It had become the routine for the past week. He’d come to pick you up after class and take you somewhere new with the sole subject of your conversations being each other. Your likes and dislikes. The never-ending debate about the arts and sciences which usually ended in harmless insults. Then when you felt like you’ve had your fix for the night, he’d drive you home. That was your favorite part of the night.

Your fingers would be loosely intertwined with his. Your thumb brushing against his finger periodically. Eyes glued to the window, watching the city at dusk twinkle underneath the moonlight or rushing by as blurred lights. The windows would be turned down just enough to let in a winter breeze, just enough to cool the heating blush scattered on your cheeks. Neither of you would speak, only listen to the words of your heart dancing along to the murmurs of a sweet melody on the radio.

“What are you going to do now?” Steve asked, walking down the hall to your apartment.

You shrug. “Oh, probably study something,” you thought aloud, “rewrite notes, maybe.”

Your tone is melancholic, expressing the dread that’s beginning to fill you at the thought of all the things you had to do.

“Do you really study?” he asks with a chuckle when you stop at the door. He leans against the wall next to you. “Or are you just saying that to keep that perfect student image you got going?” he teases.

You raise a brow paired with a sassy smile. “And what do you think I do with my freetime?”

Steve’s lips contort into a sly smirk. “Think of me,”

You rolled your eyes and slapped him on the chest, slightly pushing him away. “Oh, you are so full of yourself!” He laughs, falling back. “Do you though?” he asks with a soft smile and even softer eyes.

Your expression mirrors his. You look down bashfully then back up to find him still looking at you. “Sometimes I do,” you confess shyly, “But then I realize that it’s a waste of my time and I’d rather do better things," you scrunch your nose.

Steve groans loudly. “You’re so mean to me.”

You shrug while lifting your nose in the air. “Someone’s gotta bully the kingpin. Might as well be me.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all,” he stands straight. He takes your hand in his and dips his face into your space. “Maybe I can come over and help you study?” he suggests. Although it sounds more like he’s tempting you. “Read your flashcards for you?”

You chuckled. “We’ve done that before and you did horrible.”

“I’m practicing,” he whines, his voice lilting with his words.

You bite your lip, thinking of what to do. He’s making that stupid puppy dog face and maybe if he did it a few weeks ago you wouldn’t give in but things were a bit different now. "You can only come over if you're not a distraction."

Steve beams. "I promise to be on my best behavior,” he says to make you chuckle. He comes closer until his lips catch yours in a simple kiss.

The door to your apartment opens suddenly. You jump back from Steve, completely startled to find Quentin standing in your apartment.

He isn’t happy. His lips were twisted into a hard frown. His soft blue eyes were shooting you disappointed looks. He decided to keep his focus strictly on you because he knew the minute he looked in Steve’s direction he was going to lose it.

"Quentin!” you yelled. “What are you doing here?"

“I’m supposed to be here,” he retorted. “Remember?”

You stay quiet. Quentin knew about the key under the rug and you had no problem with him being over, but you didn’t know what he was talking about.

He huffs deeply. “Did you really forget what today is?” his shoulders drop with a sad pout.

Silence.

“It’s Friday.”

“Wow he’s so smart,” Steve compliments, “Does he do tricks?”

Quentin grumbles.

“Steve,” you hit him on the chest with the back of your hand.

“It’s Overwatch night!” he exclaims.

“That was tonight?”

“It’s always Friday night!” he waves his hands around. “More importantly, do you know how worried I was?” he questioned. “You didn’t pick up any of my calls.”

Your brows knitted in confusion. You take your phone out of your coat pocket and check it.

10 missed calls from yours truly.

Oh, I'm in trouble now.

“My phone’s on silent,” you chuckle nervously, “sorry about that.”

Quentin isn’t laughing.

You stop laughing and try to pry away from his glare by looking at everything but him.

Overwatch night was a serious matter. It was a tradition that the two of you did together and only the two of you. Because that’s how it’s always been. Just the two of you. But nowadays, he hardly ever sees you. And it feels like you’re slipping out of his fingers.

“Well I guess Overwhatever night is cancelled, so you can go home now,” Steve chimes in.

“It’s Overwatch,” he replies sternly.

“I don’t care,” Steve says indifferently.

“Me and you need to have a talk,” he directed at Steve.

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Well, I do, so let’s go,” he grabs him by the arm and pulls him along.

“Quentin!” you followed behind him, ready to argue.

“No, you stay here,” he ordered with a pointed finger.

“But—”

“I said in, young lady,” he pointed inside. You sigh while watching the two walk down the hall. Steve looks back with a goofy smile and a shrug. You mouth him a “sorry”. He shakes his head with a chuckle as he enters the stairwell behind your friend.

You just hoped they didn’t kill each other out there.

“Sooo,” Steve drawled as he stood against the wall of the apartment with Quentin a few feet away from him as if he had the plague.

“I hate you,” Quentin deadpanned.

Steve chuckles sadly with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. “Gee, I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

Quentin clicks his tongue at him. “You know what I hate the most about you?”

“That Y/N likes me more than you?” the blonde jests.

“No, it’s that fake face you keep showing her.”

Steve’s brows knit in confusion. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” Quentin stated, rooted in his position. “I know about guys like you. You act all sweet when you’re really not. You might have Y/N fooled but not me.”

“I swear you’re a genius,” Steve says with a roll of the eyes. He takes another long drag of his cigarette.

Quentin’s jaw clenches tight. “I’m not playing around. There’s nothing pure and wholesome about a mobster. You guys are lower than scum.”

Steve’s head whips towards him and he grabs a handful of Quentin’s sweater. He tugs him closer, his eyes shooting daggers at him. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

Quentin stands unashamed and unafraid. His eyes are just as firm as his stance. Steve had to admit he had the guts to stand tall after insulting the kingpin. “Or what? I’m not afraid of you.”

Steve lets go of him with a light push. “The only reason why I haven’t pounded that pretty face of yours yet is because of Y/N,” he states, pointing his finger at him. “I don’t give a shit if you hate me or not. I’m not here for you, it’s for her. I care about her.”

Quentin snorts. “You care about Y/N?” he repeats with disbelief. “If you cared about Y/N, you wouldn’t be doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Putting a target on her head.” he dropped on Steve, making him go silent. “They’ll hurt her to get to you. Have you ever thought about that?”

Steve exhales through his nose and his shoulders drop along with his lips. “I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about it for a long time,” he confesses.

Quentin can hear the clarity in his voice. Either he’s really good at lying or he’s being honest. He’d like to believe it was the first but he had a feeling it was the second.

“I asked her if she wanted to leave and she said she wanted to stay. I gave her that option. I didn’t want her to be forced into it and I will never force her into anything. When I said I cared about her I mean that. She means more to me than you'll ever understand."

Quentin shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shakes his head. “She means a lot to me too and I just wanna make sure she’s okay,” he whispers, looking down. He kicks the sidewalk with one leg, grazing the sole of his shoe against the concrete. “She’s been through a lot. She grew up alone. She had no one and didn’t trust anyone. But she opened up to me, and I take our relationship very seriously. I love her.”

Steve’s ears perk at the end. He turns his head to look at him. Two pairs of blue eyes catch sight of each other. One filled with worry and a slightly murderous intent. The other pair exasperated.

“Not the way you do so don't blast my head off, I see her as a sister, alright?” he deadpans. “But I just worry for her sometimes,” he turns soft again. “She’s good at hiding how she feels and making it seem like it’s all good when it’s not. All I want—all I really want is for her to be happy and safe,” he confesses. “I don’t care if it's with your dumb ass or someone else as long as she's really happy, I'm happy."

"You're a good guy,” Steve replies awkwardly.

"I don't need to hear that from you."

"Damn you're annoying,” Steve grunts. “Just take the stupid compliment will ya?"

Quentin chuckles quietly, "Alright thanks.”

The two men stand at the curb, each one turned slightly away from the other, watching the lifeless street quietly. The cold nips at their cheeks and begins to sink into their bones, but they don’t mind it. The strong scent of smoke from Steve's cigarette twists around the two. Quentin takes a step away. He hated the smell of smoke. It always brought back memories of when he lived with his dad.

He wiggles his nose and rubs it with his fingers.

“You really like her?" Quentin breaks the silence. "Like you're not doing this just to pass the time?"

Steve chuckles with a smile. He drops his cigarette and crushes it under his shoe.

Thank God.

"Would it really matter if I answered yes or no? Cause at the end of the day, you're still not gonna trust me." Quentin grumbles with an irritated expression painted on his face.

Steve smiles at him before looking up at the night sky. Not a star in sight and yet it seemed brighter than before.

"I've spent a lot of my time alone. I've seen a lot of people I cared for leave, some without even looking back. Some of them, not even getting the chance. And I made up my mind I didn't need anyone anymore. I'd live by myself–for myself," he looked down with a sad frown.

Steve rarely spoke of his feelings. With the job he had, emotions were just an inconvenience. You can’t really cut a guy’s fingers off if you felt pity on his pregnant wife at home. It’s hard to do the things he did if he felt something.

But here on the street next to a guy he barely even knew, that he hardly even liked, it felt easy. And maybe it was that uncertainty that came with a stranger that made things like this easy. He wasn’t trying to prove his worth with some heartfelt bullshit. This was real. It was raw. These were thoughts he had for the past few weeks. What he thought about on the way home from dropping you off. When he sat in his office with Lucky in his lap, and a fire crackling in the hearth. The things he was thankful for.

"But then I met Y/N, and at first I was just intrigued because she was different. Maybe ordinary to everyone else, but she stuck out to me,” he says, "And maybe at first it was just to pass the time but it turned into something more. The more I thought about her, the more I liked her. The more I wanted to know about her and become a part of her life,” he smiles softly at the ground. “Maybe I'm being selfish, but it's been so long since I've really felt something and when someone like her drops into your life–you'd be stupid not to take the chance,” he turns to look at the him.

Quentin knows he’s being honest. He can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice.

“I don't know what's to come in the future but as of right now, everything I feel for Y/N, everything I show her is real,” he places his hand on his chest, rubbing the sweet ache in his core. His features soften and his eyes gloss over. "She makes even scum like me feel human."

Quentin looks away, cheeks a bit red from the cold. He sighs in defeat, his hot breath vaporizing in the cold air. His facial features are hard to read, firm like a father’s, but his eyes are soft.

"Promise me you'll keep her happy?” he asks. “That you'll never let her feel alone. She means the whole world to me and if I ever find her hurt or crying and I learn it's your fault? I'm kicking your ass to the sun."

Steve laughs from the belly and it takes Quentin off guard. "I'm actually somewhat intimidated," Steve smiles at him for the first time that night. "you wanna job in the mob?"

"Yeah, no thanks,” Quentin quickly denies.

"I promise you. I'll keep her happy,” he replies with a nod. “In all honesty, I'm still trying to figure out why she likes me."

It’s Quentin’s turn to laugh. "Trust me you're not the only one.”

Steve lips twist into a scowl. "Jerk."

Quentin’s lips twirl into a smile. "Asshole."

"So it went well?” you asked Quentin with hopeful eyes.

"Kinda,” he shrugged, plopping down onto the squeaky couch. "We uh came to an agreement.”

"And what's that?" you sat next to him.

"Confidential,” he replies, creating a frown on your face. "Now movie time?" he asks, waving the remote.

"Yeah," you nodded. You cuddle on the couch next to him and rest your head against his arm. He puts on a random movie on Netflix and gets comfy.

"So you like him?" you asked, looking up at him from the side.

"No." he deadpanned. "But I'll bear with him for you,” he chuckles quietly and turns to look down at you.

"Yeah?" you sit up with excitement. Quentin’s lips curl into a languid smile by the way you're beaming at him.

"Yeah."

You hug him from the side practically toppling him over, quietly cheering to yourself. "You're great, you know that?”

Quentin smirks. "I know,” he says nonchalantly with a smirk.

If you’re happy. He’s happy.

“How’d you like the movie?” Steve asks, exiting the theater with you beside him.

“Personally, I think there were way too many old white men in that movie,” you comment.

Steve chuckles. “You wanted to watch it.” He tucks his hands in his coat pockets and creates a hoop with his right arm letting you slip your arm through and hold onto him.

“I thought you’d like it,” you reply. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like Little Women.”

“I like anything you like, sweetheart,” he grins and leans in for a peck on the lips that has your insides melting and a giggling mess.

A gentle breeze flows through your hair while walking towards Steve’s car.

“So where to now?” you ask.

“Wherever you want, I’m free for the rest of the day—” Steve cuts himself off when he looks up to see a man leaning against a random car. You tilt your head slightly in curiosity when he stops and catch sight of the man. He’s a bit short with a strange beard. The blonde grumbles.

Of all the days.

"Tony, what the hell are you doing here?" Steve asks pointedly. "You lost or something?"

Tony chuckles and stands straight. "Actually no, for once I'm right where I need to be,” he replies, "Spent all day looking for you. All your guys keep telling me you're busy,” he says, "And I guess I found the reason why." He chuckles, eyeing you down dangerously. Steve pulls you closer to him.

"What d'ya want?" Steve snaps at him, sharp and firm. Tony’s eyes flit back to Steve. Two minutes and Tony had it all put together. He cocks a brow and his lips twist into the infamously famous cocky grin every man in the underworld knew all too well.

"I'm in a bit of a bind,” Tony states smoothly, “I've also heard that you're in a little trouble."

Steve laughs, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm fine,” he denies his statement and walks on, pulling you along with him. "See ya ‘round then,” he waves goodbye.

Tony grabs a fistful of his coat and pulls him closer (down) to him, "Don't play stupid with me, Rogers,” he jeers, face all up in Steve’s. "I know what you did to the Gambinos and I know Hydra's after your ass."

Again with all the names you don't understand.

Steve keeps his composure, he looks down at Tony’s hand grabbing onto his coat, $650 dollars worth of Gucci, and looks back up at him. And you could’ve sworn you saw the other man flinch under his cold stare. "I think you forgot who you're talking to,” His voice was dangerously calm and it had shivers trickling down your spine. "Want a reminder?”

Tony snorts, letting go of Steve with a gentle push. "C'mon you're not gonna punch me in front of your girl,” he eggs him on.

"I mean he's done it before," You deadpanned and shrugged, returning Tony’s attention to you.

Great.

"Quick question. What's a pretty girl like you hangin' round this thug?" he asks.

"Fuck off, old man,” you snarled.

"Oh ho, she's feisty too,” he snickers. Sidestepping Steve, he stands in front of you. A bit too close for your liking. “How about you ditch blondie and spend the rest of the night with me?" he offers. "Come over to Manhattan, baby, you'll be seeing stars when I'm done with y–"

CRACK!

Steve’s eyes grow wide and his lips part into a circle. He’s left speechless, trying to comprehend what he just saw.

"Fuck!" Tony shouts. He hunches over in pain, covering his nose with his hands. "You broke my nose!" "You'll pay for that bitch!"

"Look me in the eye and say that,” you hissed, fist still tight. Tony whimpers in pain, wiping the blood from his nose. Steve starts to laugh at Tony’s expense. “I fucking dare you."

"See ya around, Tony," Steve bids him farewell.

Steve tugs you along with him for Tony’s sake. "Wait, I'm not done with him,” you growl, taking a step back.

"Yes you are," he smiles with a tug, "Let's go for some ice cream. Gotta cool you down."

“I’m fine.”

“Really, baby? You’re all red,” he places his hand on your forehead with a chuckle. “You’re getting kinda hot.”

You push his hand away. “Piss off, blondie,” you stomp off towards the car.

Quality Mrs. Rogers Material

TAGLIST (CLOSED): @ashwarren32 @siriusement @rootcrop @savedbystark @little-dark-empress @great-goddess-of-sin @boxofteenageideas @imsonick @scuzmunkie @achishisha @calwitch @chuckennuggets1213 @captainchrisstan @thirstybunz @littlebees-things @voltage-my2dlove @rinkashirikitateku @miraclesoflove @harleyscheekheart @allegra-writes @iced-capsicle @eliza5616 @bookgirlunicorn @fckdeusername @booktease21

#mob!steve rogers x reader #mobster steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #mob!steve #captain america x reader #steve rogers fluff

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thebonggirll · 4 years

Text

Chapter 22 - First Day

Chapter 21

The Aquamarine Agency was a huge building with impressive infrastructure, decorated beautifully with stuffs like seashells, corals, etc. Y/N walked towards the reception, and gave a copy of her internship form to the lady standing behind it. Although it wasn't needed, because all eyes were set on her the moment she entered the building. Ofcourse, they heard about the rumors and almost everyone stared at her nowadays but here, in this building, people were staring at her because of her power and quirk.

"You were impressive there. I was rooting for you, and we are really glad that you chose our agency," the lady behind the desk said with a smile and handed her ID card, "Here's your ID card. You need to wear it for the rest of the days whenever you come here. The lift is to the right. And the students waiting room is on the 3rd floor, room number 405."

"Uh, thank you." Y/N smiled, wearing the ID card immediately. She left the lobby and walked to the waiting room. All the other students were staring at her when she entered the room. Some of them were nice and introduced themselves.

"Hey, all the others are afraid to ask so I will just be straight with my question." A guy with black hair and blue highlights which matched his eyes asked her, "Aren't you the girl who's rumored to be going out with Endeavor's son?"

Y/N chuckled at his straightforward question and answered, "Honestly I'm kind of glad you asked instead of just staring at me. Yeah, it's just a rumor. I fainted and he was just helping me by melting the ice."

"Yeah, I kinda figured. Oh, I'm Oikawa by the way," he said.

"And I am-"

"Y/N Y/L/N, we all know that."

After a short while, Y/N saw a lady come over and call all of the students waiting in the room. She took them to the main office where the hero along with the assistants were waiting. Her hair was tied in a pigtail, her hero costume looked mostly like what a diver wears. It wasn't exactly shiny or something catchy but it definitely had multipurposes.

"Oh! You're here! Come in!" the lady said, keeping down her pen and concentrating on the interns. "I'm glad that all of you joined. We definitely didn't expect so many of you here, but oh well! The more, the merrier! Let's start with our introductions. I am the Water Hero of Peace: Baiji. Well, I did come up with the 'peace' later when I heard what people frequently call me on local news. Cool right?!"

"Well, she looks lively." Y/N thought. She noticed the assistants standing beside her, with comforting smiles on their faces.

Baiji clasped her hands and got up. "I hope you're ready for the training you're going to receive. Today we will just focus on cleaning up. We do fight against villains and protect people, but making sure the water body is clean also falls on our part of job."

It turned out that Baiji was actually serious about cleaning. Every intern was assigned with a small part of the bay and assistants of the water hero were there to keep supervision on them. Y/N realized, it might be because some of these interns might slack off. And she was right, but a few also threw a tantrum over how this was not what they were here to learn. She considered herself lucky to be not one of those, since these interns were given double amount of cleaning and an hour of it everyday.

"Yes, you are going to be a hero. But firstly, you've to get off that high horse and be on the same level as the general public. Only then you'll be able to see through their eyes. It often helps in figuring out the kind of villains you'll be dealing with. Being a hero doesn't just mean saving lives, but also inspiring them to be a better human being."

"That's a lot of responsibility," one guy said.

"It's a choice though, and a lot less than what mothers have in general," she replied, with the same smile she had in the morning.

When almost everyone was done with the cleaning, Baiji came to inspect their work.

"It's not clean."

"Maám you didn't give us instructions on whether we are allowed to go in the middle of the waters," Y/N said.

"Europa, was it?" Baiji turned to her asking, to which Y/N nodded her head in answer, "Well, you are not allowed to go there without permission, ofcourse."

"So can we go now? Are we allowed to take a boat?" A guy asked.

"A boat?! Wha- okay, what agency did you join?"

"Aquamarine, ma'am."

"And what are the common features in all of your quirks?"

"Water, ma'am."

"Then don't ask stupid questions boy! Use your quirk!" Baiji said, her ears getting bright red. One of her assistants held her shoulders, in an attempt to calm her down, "What?! They're supposed to be smart by now!"

"Regardless, you're supposed to train and teach them."

"Okay smartass," Baiji pouted.

"Language."

"Ugh, okay get to work heroes. I shouldn't be able to find a single trash in water."

Y/N controlled the water body and made it flow towards herself, collecting the trash and keeping it in a bag beside her. At first she wasn't able to reach the ones too far away, but watching her peers and the techniques they used, she learnt to use it a bit differently and control the waters. About half an hour later, when the interns looked a bit tired, Baiji came forward and called them.

"I'm bored. Let's make it a bit interesting. I'll be exactly in the middle of all of the assigned posts. I'll pull the trash towards me, and it's your responsibility to make sure each and every one of these are out within the next half an hour. I'll create disturbance and make sure you don't achieve it by the way. Good luck!" she jumped into the water, and was in her position in a minute.

"Just swimming couldn't do that," Y/N thought, "she's really good in controlling the water."

"Ready? Start!"

Y/N was ready to pull the water towards herself with all of her strength. But suddenly she heard a whipping sound and looking up, she saw Baiji throwing what looked like broken tin cans. She jumped back, dodging it by an inch. Y/N tried to catch the others thrown at them with the help of her quirk. Within a minute, the water current started going the opposite and she looked at Baiji with a amused smile on her face. She wasn't only throwing tin cans at them, but also using it as an opportunity to take the trash towards herself.

She tried every other way to try and get the trash towards herself, but it didn't work. Y/N sucked at multi-tasking. She knew that she couldn't just wait for her quirk to miraculously become stronger and get all the trash out. The only plan she had in mind was to somehow distract the pro hero. Maybe, if she was able to distract her only for a minute or so, it would be more than enough for the others to get the trash out. And Baiji was someone who loved flaunting about her powers. It took some time, and Y/N didn't know if this was gonna work but in this field of work there would be times that she has to make plans without anyone's help. She needed to test it, and only 7 minutes were left.

"Hey! You'll get just a few minutes to clean up!" Y/N said, and used her quirk to move fast near Baiji, just like she did before fainting in front of Todoroki.

Y/N was about to hit her with one of her water blade technique at first, but Baiji was quick to notice her. And in no time, another tin can was thrown at her. The water was fierce and uncontrollable near the hero, and she had just one chance to do something that would distract Baiji.

And she did, although it was a careless move. Y/N just stopped controlling the water with her quirk. Her body suddenly got dragged under water and with the amount of power that Baiji was using, she would either drown or get thrown far away.

Her move made Baiji panic. She stopped controlling the water and rushed to search for her, when suddenly interns took control and using their quirk, pulled the trash towards themselves. Coughing, Y/N used her quirk to swim fast back to her assigned post. But she was too tired, something she didn't think of. She never thought water could make her feel tired, when it was her own quirk.

Y/N felt arms on her waist. She looked up to see one of Baiji's assistants carrying her towards the land. She was surprised to see her part of water clean along the way.

"Ah, damn that almost drowned me. Didn't worry about that before," Y/N chuckled sitting down on the stairs and resting her body on the concrete wall behind her. The interns walked up to her and sat down on the stairs beside her - all tired after using their quirk for an hour straight nonstop.

"Remember, too much of anything is bad," Baiji said, kneeling down in front of the exhausted interns with a small smile. "One of my assistant will escort all of you to your dorm."

Baiji smiled at Y/N and said, "Well done." She walked away with her sidekick, as the interns broke down into a joyful laugh, finally feeling comfortable to talk among themselves. The assistant called for them and they got up to follow him.

"Baiji complimented you," the assistant said to Y/N as they were walking.

"Yeah well, she's a cheerful lady," Y/N replied.

"No, she might be cheerful but you've no idea how hard she is on the interns. Besides, she's a little petty too. She would never admit that an 'intern' outsmarted her."

"Oh, then...that probably means she'll be extra hard on me?"

"You're right about that."

Y/N sighed, already worried about her training even though it was only the first day.

On the other hand, Baiji's sidekick was observing her mentor closely. "Oh god! Just say it already instead of staring!" Baiji shouted at him.

"They were different from the other times, right?"

"This batch is surely different. None of the interns of the previous years had the guts to do something other than try their best to pull out the trash. Besides...that girl from U.A. Academy..."

"What surprised me is that not even a single one of them talked to each other. How did they plan this? It was also the girl, wasn't it?"

"Yes, and I've no idea whether she's too dumb or too smart but it was just over in a few minutes and she trusted the other interns to actually do it."

"But they did it, didn't they? The people who didn't even talk when they arrived are now actually getting to know each other."

"So she's one of those..." Baiji smiled, taking out her activity sheet and writing down the progress of her interns. For a long time, she didn't write these new qualities, and it felt nice.

Her pen moved and in a beautiful cursive handwriting, she wrote the words -Glue of the team.

Chapter 23

SEASON - II

Ignite

MASTERLIST

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and-justice-for-zoisite · 4 years

Text

~Ocean Eyes~ (Benny Weir x Reader) Part 9

Series Masterlist // Official Masterlist

Summary: Now that you’ve recovered, you and Rory are finally able to go on a date! The destination you choose is the movies, and you’re pretty excited. But because of this, Benny is overwhelmed by jealousy, and has to be pulled into line by his best friend who makes him realize how much of a jerk he’s been to his friend Rory lately.

(Just some extra info that I couldn’t fit into the story, it’s been a week since the Price incident and Evelyn isn’t home currently. Enjoy!)

God, you were so beautiful. Your hair had been done up and decorated in a few clear, sparkly hair clips. Your make up matched your clips, consisting of clear, sparkly lip gloss, and glittery eye shadow and blush. And your dress...

(This is your dress, my dear)

This was all courtesy of the talented ladies Sarah and Erica, and the second you stepped out of your room, Benny had his breath taken away and he was left absolutely speechless. Due to this reaction, you thought that maybe you didn’t look right, and you looked down shyly at your dress.

“I-is it too much?” You asked, Benny shaking himself out of his momentary daze as he shook his head and smiled. “No, you’re...” He looked you up and down once more, “...you’re beautiful.” Your face flushed red as you smiled sheepishly, looking down once again.

Benny was jealous. More jealous than anyone who’s ever been jealous in the whole wide world. He wanted to be the one to take you out while you looked that extravagant, but unfortunately that spot was already reserved by Rory for the night. Over the time they had saved you, Benny and Rory had fixed things as friends again. But now, Benny was just about ready to rip the blonde’s head right off and start fighting all over again. You were quite a powerful force, he knew that much. Not even Della, the mega babe from school, could make him go to the lengths he’d go to for you.

“Gosh they grow up so fast...” Sarah said sweetly as she and Erica came out from cleaning up the make up, “You’re so pretty (Y/n).” “You really think so?” You asked in a soft voice, the two vampire girls looking at each other before nodding. “Rory better watch it, you’re gonna have men gawking at you all night.” Erica said with a small chuckle.

And that statement was enough to make Benny’s blood boil. Not only was Rory competition, but now the entire male population of WhiteChapel was too.

“(Y/n), are you sure you wanna go on a date with Rory?” Benny asked as he stepped up to you, “You know he’s an idiot...right?” “God Benny, it’s only a date. It’s not like we’re getting married,” You sighed as you poked his cheek, “don’t stress, love.” Benny sighed as he dusted off your shoulders. “Alright, but make sure you’re back by 10. And don’t let him kiss you, he’s probably got rabies or something.” You rolled your eyes as you smiled up at the boy. “Yes mom,” You sighed, Benny chuckling softly at the joke before Sarah and Erica approached you from behind with a hand each on your shoulders.

“Time for your date, (Y/n). Don’t keep Rory waiting.”

“Wow, (Y/n). You look...amazing.”

Your dress glimmered against the streetlights, as did your beautifully done make up. You and Rory stood outside the cinema, about to go see one of the films they were playing. He was awestruck by your looks, so much so that he almost forgot how to function. He didn’t hear you quietly thank him before you looked toward the theater.

“So, what movie are we seeing?” You asked sweetly, the boy snapping out of his daze as he looked back toward your eyes. He blushed as he scratched behind his neck sheepishly. “I-I probably should’ve asked you first...b-but I bought us tickets to see this new horror movie...i-I mean if you don’t wanna watch a horror we can just-” “You must’ve read my mind Rory! That was what I was hoping you’d end up picking,” You gushed, the boy feeling his face heat up further as he smiled like a dork. “W-well, we better head in then, and get snacks before the movie starts,” He said in a shaky voice, yourself nodding and giggling as you wrapped your arm around his and held it tight. Rory stiffened up at this at first as his face went completely beet red. But soon enough, he relaxed and simply smiled even deeper as the two of you began heading into the theater with the other people that had you surrounded.

“Did you see that dude! She touched him! He’s probably using his vampire hypnotizing powers on her!” “Or maybe she’s being extra friendly because they’re on a date.”

Behind a set of bushes just outside the theater was Benny and Ethan, Benny spying on you and Rory with a pair of binoculars while Ethan was there to try and make sure his best friend doesn’t do anything stupid. But of course, Benny doing something stupid would always be inevitable, especially for a girl.

“I seriously think Rory must’ve done something to (Y/n) to make her even consider saying yes to a date with him,” Benny said as he continued to stare at the two of you through his binoculars, “I looked all through grandma’s vampire books but I didn’t find anything.” “Dude, can’t we just leave them alone? It’s just one date, and besides,” Ethan looked around cautiously, “If Sarah catches us spying on them, she’ll kill us. And unlike you, I very much value my life.” “I don’t trust Rory with (Y/n), not one bit. What if he’s trying to eat her? They don’t call them pure bloods for no reason,” Benny asked. “I think you’re just jealous,” Ethan said, his friend’s head snapping up as soon as the word ‘jealous’ fell from his mouth. Benny stared at him for a moment with squinting, offended eyes, a questioning look upon his face. “Jealous?” He asked, Ethan nodding, “You think I’m jealous?” “I mean, if stalking a girl on a date with another guy creepily from behind a bush doesn’t scream jealous then I don’t know what does,” Ethan explained, shoving his hands into his jean pockets, “and besides, you have perhaps the most obvious crush on (Y/n) ever.” “I do not!” Benny screeched, Ethan tilting his head as he gave him the raised brow ‘oh really?’ look. After a second, Benny sighed and rolled his eyes as he accepted it. “Ok fine, maybe there’s some romantic feelings in there for her.” “Some?? Dude! You’re still wearing her hoodie!” “It’s comfortable!” Benny defended as he clutched the sleeves of your hoodie. “And you might as well holding a big fat sign in neon lights that says ‘I have a huge crush on (Y/n)’!” Ethan unintentionally shouted. “Ok, first of all, shut up, this is supposed to be a stealth mission,” Benny began, Ethan rolling his eyes before his friend continued, “Second of all, you’ve gotta understand my point of view on the situation.” “God, here we go again...” Ethan sighed as he spun around and crossed his arms. “I am seriously concerned that if this date goes smoothly, (Y/n) might as well be kissing her everlasting life goodbye and then diving head first into concrete.” “Do you hear yourself? You’re making Rory out to be this shitty guy Benny!” Ethan spun back around to face his friend, “He’s our friend, and even if he’s an idiot, we always look out for our friends. He saved your life just last week! Can’t you just be happy for him?” “Maybe I just think (Y/n) deserves better than him,” Benny growled as if he was trying to suppress his anger as he stepped toward Ethan in a sort of stubborn way. “Then why aren’t you the one taking her to see a movie tonight??”

Benny wanted to say something to that, but he found that he really couldn’t, considering that was indeed a very good question. Why wasn’t he the one taking you to see a movie that night? He wasn’t even sure himself, and it was evident as his face morphed into a softer and more perplexed look.

“But...I was the first one to even take her on a date...I took her to the ice cream parlor...” “Dude, you gotta be consistent. You can’t just take a girl on one good date and then expect her to be securely yours because if she’s anything like (Y/n), then she’s gonna have all sorts of guys trying to impress her and steal her heart. You have to work for her, you have to wow her, you have to earn her. And doing stuff like this is literally the equivalent to using cheat codes on Knights of Ninjustu 4, and we both know that you’d never do that,” Ethan placed a hand on his best friend’s shoulder before continuing, “Do something for her everyday, get her something nice, compliment her, treat her like a princess. And I can guarantee you, you’ll be the one she wants at the end of the day.”

The green-eyed brunette stared at his best friend for a moment, taking a little time process his little speech. And once he had, he chuckled softly and, too, placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder.

“How do you not have a girlfriend yet?” He asked, Ethan shrugging as he too laughed a little and they began subconsciously walking away from the cinema side by side. “Because I go for girls that are way outta my league,” He responded, Benny smirking as he nudged him with his elbow. “C’mon dude, Sarah’s not that far outta your league.” “Just shut up and walk to the pizza place in town with me, I need some pepperoni in my system.”

And with that, the two geek best friends made their way to the main street of town, where they ordered a pizza and chowed down with their nerd talk. Benny realized how lost he would be if he didn’t have Ethan to pull him into line, and for that he was grateful.

After the two of you had gotten snacks and had a little bit of small talk while you waited for your assigned cinema to be available, you and Rory were finally seated, and more than excited to watch this new movie. This gave you a moment to think about the current situation you had fallen into.

Rory was an absolute sweetheart. He was a fun, energetic guy and you really did appreciate him. It’s just...you already had something for Benny. Romantic or not, it was still something. Every time you had cried recently, he was the one to comfort you, hold you, and he did it no questions asked. Not to mention the fact that he kissed you to save your life. You knew that Rory would’ve done the same thing, but...you didn’t even know how to finish that sentence, you just...felt different around Benny. This whole mess was something you were yet to understand, but understand it you would...eventually.

After they ordered their pizza and bought some soda, the two geek boys took a short stroll and eventually found themselves at the local park, sitting across from each other on one of the platforms of the playground equipment, their half eaten and soda in between the two of them as Benny’s phone blared some pop punk music, neck deep and Paramore and all of that quality pop punk the two boys enjoyed. They did this even though it was dark and cold, they simply needed to get out for a bit, considering they never really did due to the amount of video games they’d play on a daily basis. It was nice though, just to take a moment to get away from everyone and everything and spend a bit of one on one bro time with each other as best friends.

Benny really needed this if he was honest. He was so lost in his own emotions that he’d pretty much lost sight of his entire life. If it wasn’t for Ethan, he’d probably be in even deeper and worse than he already was. He felt more than guilty for the way he’d been treating Rory over the past few weeks, like he was competition over a friend. I mean, yes, in a sense, he was competition. But he was a friend first, and Benny had been a real jerk to him over something as childish as crushing on the same girl as he was.

But on the other hand...

Ethan wasn’t wrong when he pointed out that Benny had perhaps the most obvious crush on you ever. I mean, it was kind of a crush...he wasn’t even sure of it himself considering he hadn’t even known you for too long. But one thing he did know was that he wanted to protect you at all costs, and be closed to you and hold you and...

“What’ya thinkin’ about dude?”

Benny was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the voice of his best friend from in front of him, his green eyes meeting the likes of brown eyes.

“Hm?” He hummed, not quite understanding what he was getting at. “It’s just...you’re really quiet, and you seem...lost, really lost,” Ethan leaned forward slightly, so that his elbows rested on his outstretched legs, “what’s going on in that crazy mind of yours, Weir?” Benny stared at him for a moment, trying to think of a way to put how he was feeling. He most certainly wasn’t even sure of what was happening in his mind himself, even though he had direct access to it.

Benny leaned his head back so he was looking up slightly, letting it rest against the grubby jungle gym railings as he searched for an answer.

“Chaos, absolute chaos,” That was the best way he could describe it, “I’m such a piece of shit for treating Rory the way I did.” “You’re not a piece of shit Benny, you’re just...” Ethan paused to try and find the correct terminology, “...new to the concept of actually having a chance with a girl, but another guy also having a chance with a girl, and since that guy is one of your close friends, you actually have to be conscious of what you do so you don’t screw up the friendship.” “Ugh! This is all too hard...maybe I should just give up, at least Rory isn’t a jerk.” “B, please don’t think like that, especially when you and (Y/n) are already so close. Do you not see the way her behavior visibly changes when you’re around?” Ethan asked, Benny rolling his eyes as he looked toward his friend. “Yeah? How?” “Well, for one, she gets a lot less shy. She becomes more bubbly, more energetic, she talks in a slightly higher tone. She starts fidgeting with her belongings, and seems to smile even bigger, if that’s even possible. But the thing that seals the deal for me...” Ethan had stopped counting on his finger, but instead let them rest in his lap, “...it’s one simple and easy to miss detail. Whenever she sees you, the ocean in her eyes changes slightly.”

Benny became intrigued at this statement, and it was evident as his eyes softened slightly.

And this well needed talk was what drove the idea of quitting out of Benny’s mind.

“Jeez Louis, the directors really didn’t hold back, did they?”

“You can say that again...that was intense.”

The movie had finished, and you and Rory had just left the theater. The night breeze was cold, not that you really minded, cold weather was always lovely. Rory had offered to walk you home, to which you accepted, even though you were more than capable of walking home safely by yourself. His company was nice, and you weren’t about to turn it down.

With a reasonable amount of his goofy jokes and decent small talk, you had arrived at your home, or rather, the Weir household. You bid your goodbyes before he left and you entered the house.

Sighing loudly out of exhaustion, you slipped your shoes off and dropped your purse by the door before you headed through to the kitchen where you met Benny who was packing a half eaten pizza into the fridge accompanied by Ethan who was leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Hey,” you greeted simply with your sweet smile, the two boys turning to you when they heard you. “Hey, how was it?” Ethan asked, cutting to straight chase. “It was fun. I found out that Rory doesn’t take jump-scares too well, but it was fun. It wasn’t at all romantic, which is weird considering Rory had been extra flirty toward me to hype himself up for the date after he asked me, but y’know, I think I enjoyed it better that way.” You explained, sighing as you leaned against the counter next to Ethan.

Benny didn’t want to admit it, but he felt his heart jolt slightly when you said that, and he was relieved that that was the turn of events of the date. He really did have a decent chance after all.

“Well, I’m glad you had fun,” He said as he shut the fridge and turned to look at you, only to see that you looked rather tired with your half lidded eyes and droopy stance, “but you look super tired (Y/n).” “I am,” You opened your arms with a goofy smile, “You’d be willing to carry a tired lady to her bed, wouldn’t you?” Benny couldn’t help a chuckle as he moved from the fridge over to you. “Of course, what kind of gentleman would I be if I couldn’t?” He said as he scooped you up into his arms bridal style, Ethan chuckling sweetly at the situation while you giggled and wrapped your arms around Benny’s neck. “Excuse us for one moment,” Benny joked to Ethan before heading toward your room, you securely in his arms.

Of course, it didn’t take very long to arrive to your room, and once you did, Benny gently set you down on your bed, yourself simply taking the time to stare into his eyes for a good long moment, goofy smile still present. He noticed almost immediately, and couldn’t help a quiet chuckle as he sat on your bed beside you and stared back.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” He asked, yourself giggling as you reached up and booped his nose gently. “Because you’re so pretty,” You replied, the boy giving her a slightly puzzled yet humored look. “Interesting terminology, but thank you,” He responded in a soft voice as he poked your forehead gently, “you’re pretty too.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment more, with sweet smiles and a sweet atmosphere. You just couldn’t describe how you felt in that moment, like...you were so calm, yet so absolutely giddy on the inside. That was why you sat up, slowly, and wrapped your arms around Benny’s middle, pressing your face into his shoulder. He was slightly taken a back, and he felt his tummy twist slightly, but he also seemed to immediately react, and within seconds had his arms around you too. The two of you stayed like that for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth, scent, feeling...it was an indescribable emotion you both shared in that simple yet tender moment.

You felt so safe in his arms, and they were where you wanted to stay for as long as you could.

A/n: So, I really wanted to do some character development in this chapter. Like, make Benny realize that he was being an out of character jerk and show Ethan’s adorable soft side and how much he cares about his bestie and how he brings it upon himself to pull him into line, since I don’t see a lot of their close moments in other fan fics. Anyways,

I’d really appreciate it if ya’ll went and checked out my character list and made requests based off of the characters given, bc I’m heccing bored and I need writing motives. Please and thank you!!

Taglist:

@bisexualprinxexx @realityshifter111 @fandom-imagines1 @floppytheprofessionalflopper @libellule2001 @hayleythahuman @aziggya @pigtailedspinel @pettyjayy

~ Stay Tuned!!

#mbav #mbav benny #mbav x reader #my babysitters a vampire #benny weir x reader #benny x reader #benny weir #benny weir imagine #mbav imagine #whitechapel

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tsipasce · 4 years

Text

Same Difference, Ch.09

A/N: FYI, this part gets a bit violent. No domestic abuse or anything like that, just a good ol’ fashioned fight scene. Anybutts, hope y'all enjoy~

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

AO3 | Fanfic

Nanami began walking down the now-familiar, winding hallways from her tea break to return to the lab. She wasn’t ready to examine the feelings she’d had after her spat with Overhaul, especially the ones that caused her such sadness at the thought of not seeing him again. In the back of her mind, she knew whatever she was feeling could simply be the result of successful manipulation on his part, but it didn’t change the relief she felt knowing they’d continue working together. Hoping to push away the thoughts before facing him again, she decided to focus on her efforts to find a suitable class for self-defense. Sure, Hitomi had a point in that it would at the very least be a confidence booster, but Nanami felt like she needed more.

I know Kurono said it was a cheap shot in a 1 vs. 30 battle royale, but still. * BANG* If Overhaul, ~*killer extraordinaire*~ can get injured like that, * BANG* I might as well be a sitting duck. Nanami concluded, remembering that she had involved herself in a world much more dangerous than she wanted to acknowledge. But where in the world am I gonna find * BANG* a class that’ll * BANG, BANG* teach me how to survive a fight to * BANG* the * BANG, BANG* death? * BANG, BANG, BANG* Ok, what the hell is making all that noise? Nanami thought now annoyed at whatever had been interrupting her train of thought.

Following the sound, she found the source of the noise: a very large man beating a block of concrete in the training room as though his life depended on it. She watched for a moment in amazement as his fists covered in heavy, metal gauntlets wore down one block of concrete after the next, ignoring the traditional workout equipment. He stopped for a beat, sensing her watching him from the doorway.

“Hey, doc. What brings you here?”

“Hi Rappa, it’s nothing, just heard a lot of commotion and wanted to make sure everything was alright. Don’t mind me!”

Shrugging, he continued training, now moving to weightlifting. Man, this is nothing like the classes I sat in on. I wonder what kind of training you’d have to get to be this proficient… I wish I could… Oh, duh. Nanami thought at the epiphany.

“Hey, Rappa, can I ask you a question?” Nanami asked, with a plan already in mind.

“Who’s gonna stop you?”

“True. Have you ever tried teaching anyone?”

“A couple times, but most don’t last too long. They lack the warrior spirit.”

“So… if someone did have this ‘warrior spirit’, you’d consider taking them on, right?”

“It would be a dream come true, to trade blows with another man, hellbent on victory! They’d have to prove their mettle, but nothing would bring me more joy!” He exclaimed and she could tell he was already daydreaming about the next fight.

“Well, what if there was a person that was hellbent on victory and had a true warrior spirit... but they were a woman. Would you train them?”

“Impossible.” He responded immediately.

“What makes you say that?” Nanami queried, a bit miffed at how sure of his answer he was.

“They don’t have it in their nature. Besides, we yakuza have a code of chivalry. I could never fight a broad.”

“Even if said broad could kick your ass?” Now she was pissed.

He laughed heartily, “The day I meet a woman like that, will be the same day Mimic can keep his mouth shut for more than 5 seconds. Or when hell freezes over, whichever comes first.”

“Well get ready for 5 seconds of bliss and Satan in some long johns because that woman is here.” Nanami said with a renewed sense of resolve.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’ll talk to you later, Rappa.”

“Uh… Ok, see ya later, doc.”

On the remainder of the walk back, Nanami practiced her proposal in her head. She knew it might be a hard sell, but she was determined. Bursting through the door, she saw Overhaul focused on his laptop, going through some data sheets. Aw, he looks so peaceful—no, snap out of it. Back on task. Nanami chastised herself, though she was happy knowing she’d be able to see him like this regularly since they’d done their version of making up earlier. Focusing on the task at hand, she spoke confidently,” Overhaul, I need to borrow one of your bullets.”

“Who do you need taken care of?” he turned to her, a serious look in his eyes.

“Wait what?”

“What?”

They exchanged looks of equal confusion, before realizing what the other meant. “Oh no, no, no—I don’t need anyone ‘taken care of’, I want to take care of them myself—but not like that…”

“It would be clearer if you referred to them as the Eight Bullets or Eight Precepts of Death in the future.”

“Oh, yeah that sounds way cooler.” She stated matter-of-factly.

“Tch. Of course, it does.” He said turning and she could tell he was grateful in his own way of the compliment. “What do you need them for?”

“I don’t need all of them, just Rappa. And I want... no, I need him to train me.”

“Why do you need him to train you? It’s you and I who share the same quirk…” He trailed off at the last part.

“Oh, don’t be jealous, it’s just that I... I want to learn hand-to hand combat. I want to protect myself. I need to. You were right earlier when you said I’ve entered a world that prioritizes violence. It’s not that I want to prioritize it myself, but I know it would be naïve of me to be unprepared.” She replied resolutely.

“Of course, I was right.”

“That’s what you got from that?”

“However, I fail to see how this benefits me. Technically speaking, you have yet to rectify the power imbalance between us; you being able to completely negate my attacks is… problematic. Making you stronger would border on foolishness on my part.”

“So, you plan on attacking me in the future?”

“No, but the point still stands and the question remains: what do I have to gain from this?”

Nanami’s resolve did not waiver. She had the answer to this one, “An ally.”

His eyes narrowed at her, almost cautioning her to use her words wisely, but he continued to listen, pushing his laptop to the side. “Go on.”

“I wouldn’t serve you or be an accomplice, nor conspirator to any crimes. However, I will not plot against you, attack you without proper provocation, and if you’re in a bind like tonight, I will be there. In addition to this… I’ll tell you how I was able to negate your attack. It’s still a working theory, but I’d be willing to share and practice it with you until it’s fully proven. I can teach you, but only after Rappa has trained me and you teach me a defensive move using Overhaul. This way, we will be equal, for the most part.”

He stared at her searchingly, considering her proposal. After letting her squirm for a bit in suspense, he responded,” It cannot interfere with our organization’s daily dealings or our work in the lab.”

“Of course.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

“Also, could you talk to Rappa for me? You know the whole chivalry thing…” She trailed off hoping he would catch her drift.

“You’re just full of requests today.” He said, slightly annoyed as she raised her brows waiting for an answer, “He will comply. You may have to prove yourself, but he will comply.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was decided that Nanami would be tested by Rappa a week from the day. If she wasn’t sure about the nature of the test, it was certainly made clear when Rappa explained in a way only he could:

“I’ll take it easy since you’re a woman. If you can make me surrender, I’ll teach you.”

Such a generous soul~ Nanami mused to herself after pushing through the fourth lap. She didn’t expect to become a prize fighter in a week, but not getting winded just by going up the stairs at work was a good start. She’d kept somewhat in shape and had grown up doing club sports in school, but nothing she could think of that would constitute a “warrior spirit”. Looks like we’re gonna have to get creative with this…

Checking her watch, she realized she had just enough time to make an important call before her next appointment. “Hey Miki, how’ve you been?... That’s awesome, I’m doing alright myself… Hm? No, no we’re still on for dinner Thursday, I just had a favor to ask… Could I join you for some freerunning this week?... Nevermind why I’m breathing so heavy! Can I come? ...Thank you, Thank you, Thank you—I’ll see you at the station by your place. Bye!” The phone clicked.

She wouldn’t become a master in a week—maybe not even an intermediate level fighter—but at least she could have a sliver of a chance at winning Rappa over. With her plan coming together, she pushed for another lap, a little more confidence in her step than before.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A week came and went, now Nanami stood in front of her closet, unsure of what to wear.

“What do you usually wear to a fight anyway…” She pondered, remembering what every fighting person she knew wore on a regular basis. Rappa wore jeans and a t-shirt, “If I can’t sleep in jeans, how the hell am I supposed to fight in them? Next.” Overhaul wore business attire, “The man’s an enigma, not even realistic to compare wardrobe choices there…Wait.” Nanami had an epiphany. Her fighting style, if she could call it that yet, wasn’t much like either of theirs from what she knew. Deciding it would be smartest to wear what she’d been training in that week of preparation, she got changed and hurried over.

Rushing her park job, she sat in her car for a beat, trying to catch her breath. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been a nervous wreck anticipating her “trial by fire” today. Even with a plan, it would be hard to predict how she’d react in the moment when her safety was on the line. After rejecting her quirk and consequently, her body, for such a long time, it seemed like an impossible task to lean on it completely, to trust it, but what choice do I have? Nanami asked herself with equal measures of resignation and resolve. Deciding it was do or di—nope, gotta use a better phrase. We are not speaking the possibility of death into existence. Not today. Deciding it was now or never, Nanami took a deep breath, centering herself as she worked up the nerve to exit her car and march to the base and down to the training room.

Stopping in front of the entrance, she exhaled deeply once again, pushing the large door open. Upon opening it, she saw Rappa rotating his shoulders and stretching his arms. She gulped heavily, remembering his quirk, Strongarm, would soon be used on her. Focusing on her opponent, she hadn’t noticed someone else standing in the corner by the door.

“If you focus any harder, you’ll pop a blood vessel.” Said a familiar voice, startling her from her thoughts.

She put a hand to her chest, trying to calm down, “Oh my gosh you scared the shit out of me… and leave me alone. Everyone has their own way of preparing, I’m just… figuring mine out.”

“That and your sparring attire.” Overhaul responded too quickly for her liking, giving her a once over.

Defensively pulling her tracksuit closed, she gave him a look,” Did you come to roast me or root for me?”

“Neither. I am merely here to supervise. Whether you win or not is none of my concern.”

“Aaaand this is why I didn’t ask you to train me. If you need me, I’ll be stretching over there, ref.”

Nanami rolled her eyes, making her way to what she figured would be her side of the arena. The training room was large with two sections; one part took up a third of the room, hosting a myriad of traditional gym equipment and weights. The other part which was the arena, took up the remaining two thirds and was outlined on the floor in white with room on the sidelines for observers …and sassy referees. Nanami thought, remembering his dig from earlier.

Removing her tracksuit, she donned black leggings and a matching, sleeveless workout top. It was sleek and formfitting, maximizing her range of mobility. After she completed a couple toe touches, lunges and back stretches, Rappa took a step forward into the ring, “Alright, you know the rules! I’m making it easy on you by only asking for a surrender, but I won’t hold back.”

“I wouldn’t want you too. Let’s do this.” Nanami said, her game face on and her voice confident in an effort to override the doubts she had in her head.

“Now that’s the spirit! Come at me, doc!”

Getting into a stance, Nanami made a B-line towards Rappa, sprinting at full speed. He braced himself in a defensive stance, ready to attack when she came within striking distance. He was wearing his mask, but she could feel how serious the mood of the room had gotten. Just stick to the plan, it’ll all be ok, she said, steeling herself from further doubt. Focusing, she saw the second he was readying himself to take his first swing. Just then, she slid and dodged, slapping her hand firmly on the ground as she slid, sending a ripple in the direction she was headed, a pillar forming. She then slid past the new structure, extended her arms, and grabbed onto the pillar to swing herself back in his direction at full force. Keeping both her feet together she surprised him, landing a solid kick to the face. She followed through as he staggered, and she landed, rolling to minimize the impact. Before she could appreciate the look of surprise on Overhaul’s face, Rappa had recovered. Her refresher course on parkour with Miki had paid off and she had a few tricks up her sleeve.

“Now that was good. Give me more!” He exclaimed, punching the ground, barely missing her head as she dodged. Nanami had been fast, but Rappa was much more agile than he looked. She’d done some research on his quirk, but no amount of reading could have prepared her for the reality of it. Though it probably wouldn’t have seemed threatening if it had belonged to someone else, it suited him perfectly. He didn’t just have a quirk, he had a set of skills and used it to amplify them. Even without the added power, he was a force to be reckoned with.

Before she had the chance to think too much, he struck again and again, dodging becoming more difficult with each blow. Deciding to act, she erected more pillars.

“Putting up a wall for protection won’t gain you a surrender—come and fight me!” He warned, charging towards her.

“Who said these were for my protection?” Nanami responded as she ran. She launched herself to gain enough momentum, bouncing between the pillars, she managed to land a punch to his side, just beneath his ribs, earning her a grunt. Now more confident, she went in for a second attack, this time she was going to aim for his chin, hoping to knock him out. In this movement, her lack of combat training caused her to make a grave error: she was wide open. By the time she saw Rappa winding up for an uppercut, it was too late to react. He landed a solid blow to her abdomen before grabbing her like a ragdoll, tossing her clear across the room and into the wall on the opposite side of the arena. Her back hit the wall with a thud, and she gasped for air as the wind was knocked out of her. She was certain she’d broken a rib or two. She fell on all fours, heaving as she grasped at the broken parts of her rib cage. She coughed up blood, accepting the consequences of being hit in real combat. When she expelled more of the red liquid from her mouth, she could’ve sworn she saw Overhaul reflexively lunge towards her. Without thinking she raised a hand motioning him to stop whatever he planned on doing, the other still clutching her side. Looking over to him, her expression must have relayed her determination. He took a step back, his face expressionless once again.

Reaching under her shirt to the affected area, she felt for a moment and healed herself, the sound of bones cracking back into place echoing throughout the room. She rose again, steadying herself as she took up her stance once again, “I’m not done yet.” Nanami gritted.

His mask was now ripped from her previous blows she could see a large smile forming. “Now that’s the look I want to see. IF YOU WANT VICTORY, COME AND TAKE IT WITH YOUR FISTS!”

Nanami charged forward, landing some solid blows as using her ability to manipulate the arena to her advantage. Though she’d used her quirk on their surroundings, she’d yet to use it on her opponent directly. Deep down, she was still too afraid to use it in that way. The only “fight” she’d ever used it against someone was when Overhaul and her first met, but really it was just a means to escape. Even in the face of danger, she found herself more afraid of losing control like she had all those years ago. As she hesitated, Rappa landed another solid blow, this time to her shoulder, dislocating it. She managed to stifle a scream of pain, but she knew this was bad. Before she had time to heal, he was charging towards her once again. She had enough mobility to dodge some of his blows, but not all of them. She couldn’t heal herself quickly enough to keep up with his attacks. He landed another to her ribs, a fist to her back and a knee to her abdomen. Rappa was enjoying himself and she was becoming less and less sure that he remembered this was a duel to a surrender and not to the death.

Completely forgetting where she was in her panic, an immense sense of danger crashed over her, the adrenaline taking over giving her tunnel vision. Judging by how he wound up, the next blow could have certainly killed her. She braced for impact, no longer thinking strategy and then… nothing. All she felt was the gust of wind that came from his fist stopping near her face and his breath on the back of her hand. Focusing her vision, she realized she had her finger pointed, mere inches from his neck and Rappa was frozen in his place, careful not to even clear his throat. Nanami hadn’t realized it, but her eyes were almost black and her face that of a cornered animal. She would have obliterated him had he not stopped short, an experience he wasn’t quick to relive a sixth time.

A smile slowly crept back across his face and Nanami was snapped out of her trance by the sound of jovial laughter. “I surrender, doc. THAT WAS GREAT! The look on your face right now, it’s perfect! I’ll see ya Thursday for training.” He boomed before shaking her hand that was aimed to kill him mere seconds ago. “I gotta make my rounds, but I’m looking forward to working with ya, doc. You’re one tough broad!” He said as he continued laughing to himself, exiting the room.

This whole place is just a dozen different flavors of crazy… I almost killed him, Nanami thought to herself, happy to have passed his trial, but terrified at the possibility of repeating “the incident”. Losing control scared her more than anything, but deep down she knew in order to master her quirk, she would have to take the risk and use it first. One step at a time, Nanami reassured herself, quelling the effects of the traumatic memories. In reality, she knew whatever training he could give her would far surpass any of the self-defense classes she was going to settle for before. She wasn’t just going to be confident; she was going to be prepared. Just as she was riding the waves of her victory, the adrenaline began to wear off and the pain came washed over her like a tsunami. It left her breathless for a moment and all she wanted was to cry out but couldn’t as she felt one of her ribs pushing into her lung. Now laying on her back, she focused on moving the arm that wasn’t dislocated to her side, repairing her ribs and internal organs.

As she sat up to kneel on the floor and heal her shoulder, she heard footsteps coming towards her. “You’re going to have to get quicker at recovering if you plan on standing a chance the next time.” He said, looking down at her exhausted form still seated on the floor.

“I know.” Nanami sighed, reflecting on her sluggish reflexes with a bit of disappointment.

He stood in place, examining her for a beat. Suddenly something white entered her line of sight. Lifting her gaze, she saw his gloved hand extended to help her up, though his face was turned away. Quickly brushing off her surprise at his gesture, she patted her palms on her sides, before clasping his hand. He lifted her up with ease, and had she not already tempted death once today, she would have jokingly asked for a piggyback ride. Now standing close, their hands remained clasped between them longer than she expected. Craning her neck to make eye contact, she could tell he was thinking, his gaze unwavering with an emotion she couldn’t name. Just as she was about to get lost in those golden eyes, he spoke “You smell terrible.”

Ah. The ~emotion~ was in fact just stank face. Should’ve known he’d say something like that... She thought as her face dropped into one of exasperation.

“That, my very rude friend, is the smell of victory, so take a big whiff.” She retorted, moving past him, flipping her hair as she sashayed over to her bag to collect her things.

“Still wreaks… however, your performance was impressive, for an amateur.” The last part added as though it would break the very laws of nature itself to award a compliment without a catch. “See you tomorrow.” He remarked, leaving the room.

Her back was still turned as she zipped her bag, trying her best to hide the small smile that rested on her now proud face. “See you tomorrow.”

#overhaul #overhaul x oc #overhaul fanfiction #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #shie hassaikai #kendo rappa #bnha fanfic #mha oc #mha overhaul #mha fanfic #overhaul fanfic

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orchidbreezefc · 4 years

Text

OKAY COOL I WAS ON THE FENCE ABOUT POSTING MY OWN EXPERIENCES IN THE KFAM DISCORD BECAUSE A POST ABOUT People Being Mean To Sage Specifically SEEMED KIND OF MASTURBATORY OR SELF-PITYING OR WHATEVER BUT IF WE REALLY ARE GOING TO STILL BE OUT HERE PUSHING THE This Server Is A Lovely Familial Community And Dissenters Are The Problem NARRATIVE EVEN NOW? HELL NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT.

obviously this is hard to be objective about. this stuff is a lot less concrete than my first post, a lot more based on vibes i got, which, yknow, is why it’s not in my first post. but if anyone identifies with this, if anyone sees their own experiences in this discord reflected in mine, then it’s going to be worth the worry i’m reading too much into things, or others thinking the same of me. if i can help anyone who felt like THEY were mistreated there and weren’t sure if they were reading too much into things, then. it’s worth it. especially since the M.O. in there was ‘everything’s fine and if not we’re going to MAKE IT FINE by silencing anyone who disagrees’.

a lot of talk has been done about the censorship (word used loosely, first amendment protects from the government not from the mods etc, definitely a specific suppression of dissenting ideas though) the mods have been doing--once more i suggest @kfam-tea for receipts and screenshots. not something i feel great about, but not something i have personal experience with, so i won't speak to it. see also my first post about my interactions with the creators. it touches on the dogpiling, which i'll go into more depth on in this post. you can find it [link: here].

so. the first thing in the official discord that tipped me off about the hivemind samethink phenomenon is that the whole place is distinctly frosty on the subject of samben. that’s a post all its own, one that follows through to numbers on ao3 and whatever, but i’m not here to make a ship manifesto. suffice it to say i got attached to the ship upon listening, inhaled the (suspiciously small) ao3 tag, and was stopped in my tracks at the discord server where any implication of such ship inclinations were met with silence and pointed changes of subject.

distinctly weird. distinctly unusual fandom behavior, that i couldnt even hint around shipping the two men whose incredibly profound relationship is literally the crux of the show, who have exchanged ‘i love you’s, one of whom is confirmed gay--all other romantic entanglements aside, because when have those stopped shippers? that was weird. i realize that's maybe a bit tinfoil hat of me. it could have been the goldfish-bowl big-brother-is-watching vibe from having creators in there, except, as i said, it carries to other sites.

anyway, much more concrete was when i spoke out about my thoughts on ben’s actions in ep68. again, enough there for another post, so tl;dr: he was doing his best, he’s a good guy and a good friend, but his actions DIRECTLY outed sammy to the WHOLE town, without allowing sammy to say the words himself. it was an accident, yes, but it had tangible, harmful consequences, and even accidental harm warrants apology. it should at least be... acknowledged. at some point. by the show OR the fandom. it's a disservice to ben himself to never get the chance to own up to it.

this was an unacceptable take. i tried breaching this topic and making my case twice, and got THOROUGHLY dogpiled both times. a dozen fans crawled out of the woodwork to argue heatedly, sometimes getting quite aggressive, sometimes toeing the line of outright hostility toward me personally. definitely some downright rude messages. not once did anybody speak up to defend my right to put forward my dissenting opinion, let alone SUPPORT my argument, god forbid. ben’s were the actions of a good friend, i was told. outing someone to their whole town without giving them the chance to say it on their own terms didn't qualify as harm at all, i was told, on account of ben's heart being in the right place.

still, the opinions being argued matter less than the attitudes and behaviors. people don't have to agree with me about that ep, i don't care. i do care about being given the right to, as a single person on my own, have space to make an argument without being shouted down by a dozen people. i do care about how it fit into a greater pattern of forbidding any criticism of the show, and ben in particular, who is a good friend and therefore all of his actions are good and harmless, who is our resident heterosexual unassailable paragon of purity. which might explain the samben problem--sammy/ron[/jack] was perfectly fine, even popular, but there was never a whisper of shipping ben with anyone but emily. they're Official. theyre The Perfect Couple. don't you dare challenge that (and for the most part, i didn’t dare. i quickly learned not to).

my [link: previous post] details kyle's response to these fun events, where he specifically went out of the way to follow me being shouted into silence (a result of me being driven to literal tears and shutting down rather than invite more argument) with a warm congratulations to everybody for their conduct in this discussion. because that's the kind of conversation kyle wants to specifically and explicitly praise and encourage, i guess.

anyway. this contributed to the growing sense over my time in the discord that people held a certain distaste for me but didn’t want to say anything direct. instead they talked around me, ignored me, immediately changed the subject from my messages, the whole while bestowing constant glowing compliments on each other and endlessly repeating saccharine sentiments about what a nice family type community they were, how grateful they were for the discord being such a positive space. i suppose that’s an easy impression to get when negativity is ruthlessly suppressed (and apparently outright censored nowadays) and instead of insults or, god forbid, communication with people with whom folks might take issue, they just (more or less) silently stonewall and cold shoulder them.

again, i could be misreading cues, being egocentric or tinfoil hat by reading this pattern into how i in particular was treated. either way, the fact that i was given the fandom friday shout out the week after KFAM live was definitely... strange. fishy, even. i was already mostly out the door at that point, had been for weeks--it was actually in my last few days speaking there period. i felt strangely guilty that they would dedicate a day to me when i didn’t like being there much and hardly spoke any longer. one thing’s for sure: my congratulations were fewer and more impersonal, perfunctory, and/or generic than other fans got (i kept a screenshot). i still have no idea what to make of that one, but there you have it.

p.s.: since vagues are in vogue now apparently, i might as well mention the person who's been accused of being A Problem In The Discord For A While Now, among nastier things, which definitely is not an effort to justify kyle's passive aggressive response to their untagged post which used the phrase 'death of the author', or kyle subsequently crying on twitter about death threats because apparently he couldn't be bothered to google a basic literary analysis term and thought if he was vague enough nobody would look into what was actually said. i guess he was right, if the hundreds of asspats and outcries against The Evils Of Podcast Fan Meanies were any indication.

i digress. i just wanted to testify that the fan in question was one of maybe three or four people on the server who consistently treated me nicely and acted like they liked me. and that another fan who claimed to be uncomfortable around death-of-the-author-person was the person who came the closest to being outright nasty to me when i expressed a critical opinion. make of that what you will i guess!

p.p.s.: if i never say anything more about this whole thing or the creators’ part in it, i do want to say for the record: noah james is fully exempt from all of this and remains absolutely wonderful and a whole treasure. like dont pedestalize male creators and assume them incapable of wrongdoing etc etc but i had an hour long midnight denny’s breakfast sitting across from him and he was nothing short of an angel the whole time. sweetest guy i’ve ever met. he hasn’t breathed a word about any of this drama. he may not even know it’s going on because he’s too busy being the most beautiful and talented man in america or something. i love you noah

#sage speaks #sage original post #kfam #king falls am #kfam drama #kfam critical #kfam negative #kfam hate #long post #kfam tea #ok to reblog

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super-redbug · 4 years

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I wrote a oneshot for @adrinetteapril!

Day Six: Aspik and Marinette (several days late lol). Words: 2,528

Summary: A scheme to stop Adrien from figuring out Ladybug’s identity turns into Marinette offering to help Aspik impress Ladybug.

This was a strategic move, not a social visit, Marinette reminded herself, taking a deep breath or two (or several) to calm the familiar swell of nerves in her chest. Now that she was the new Guardian, she had promised herself to stop pursuing Adrien to keep her focus on keeping Paris safe... but that didn’t stop her stomach from tying itself in lovesick knots at the thought of him.

In the weeks since Miracle Queen’s defeat, there had been a sharp uptick in akumas. It helped put people (and Marinette’s own frayed nerves) at ease to give some of the newer heroes regular patrol times. This way, the superheroes could get more familiar with their powers, and the rest of the Parisians could feel a bit safer. Normally, this would have been Viperion and Rena Rouge’s day to patrol, but the Couffaines were in the middle of a well-deserved family vacation. And as it happened, their timing suited Marinette just fine.

The other day, Adrien had run into Marinette walking out of an alleyway that Ladybug had jumped into moments earlier. He hadn’t directly asked her about it as she sputtered something about their latest physics assignment, trying to make him think about anything else, but she could see the gears turning in his head. She needed to throw him off.

So today, Ladybug had asked Adrien to take another turn with the snake miraculous while Viperion was indisposed. She had stationed him for patrol in the same neighborhood where Rena Rouge would just happen to be perfecting her Mirage by creating visions of Ladybug jumping around the nearby rooftops (at Ladybug’s friendly suggestion), and Marinette would just happen to pass by and offer him a macaron at just the right time for him to see that Marinette and Ladybug were in two different places in the same time and therefore, totally not the same person. It was the perfect plan, really.

And if it also just happened to have the effect of Adrien being impressed by her baking skills, well, that wouldn’t hurt anyone either.

She was surprised to find Aspik pacing back and forth on the bridge where she had left him, shifting his harp from hand to hand.

”Excuse me?” she said, approaching him. He started to wave when he caught sight of her, then promptly dropped his hand, apparently remembering that he wasn’t supposed to know who she was. Adorable!

”Hi,” he said. “Something I can help you with?”

”Oh, no,” she replied. “I just wanted to give back a bit to the heroes of Paris.” She held out the box of macarons she was carrying, inwardly thrilled that she had gotten this far without stammering. “Want one?”

”Thanks! I wish more people showed appreciation with sweets.” He went straight for the passionfruit macaron, as she’d known he would. She couldn’t help smiling fondly.

”I’m Marinette, by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Usually, Viperion patrols around here on Tuesdays.”

”He wasn’t able to come out today, so I’m covering for him. I’m Aspik.”

He was smiling, but there was something in the tightness of his face, the hunch of his shoulders that told her something wasn’t right. Not to mention, the way he’d been pacing before he saw her. He had been all confidence and charming jokes when she (as Ladybug) had been showing him where to patrol an hour or so ago. Had something happened since then?

“Um, is everything okay, Aspik?” she asked carefully.

His smile faltered. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Marinette had spent enough time surreptitiously staring at Adrien to know when he wasn’t being truthful, but she couldn’t force him to open up if he didn’t want to. It was better not to pry, so instead, she pressed the pastry box into his hands. “Why don’t you take the rest of these? I already gave some to Ladybug and Rena Rouge, and I don’t feel like carrying them all the way home. Anyway, enjoy being super handsome -- I mean -- enjoy being a superhero!”

She turned to leave, letting her bangs fall over her face to hide her blush. She had been doing so well -- forming complete sentences and everything! And then, she had ruined it. She cringed at herself, hearing Tikki fail to stifle a giggle inside her handbag.

“Hey, Marinette?”

She turned to see Aspik staring after her, looking unsure. “I can’t possibly eat all of these by myself. Can you stay and have some with me?”

This is strategy, she reminded herself sternly, you’re not here to flirt. Even if knowing that Adrien wants to spend more time with you is the most amazing feeling in the world.

She all but skipped back across the bridge to him.

They leaned against the stone guard rail, placing the pastry box between them. “You seem to know a lot about superheros,” Aspik observed.

“My best friend runs the LadyBlog, so I learn a lot about them from her,” Marinette explained (maybe a little bit too quickly). “Plus, ya know, uh, sometimes I give sweets to them when they’re patrolling.”

“That’s really cool of you.” He offered a perfect smile, but didn’t look at her. She followed his gaze upward to where the Mirage-Ladybug was jumping around some nearby rooftops. Alya really was getting good with the fox miraculous, her Mirages getting more detailed by the day.

“What’s Ladybug’s favorite kind of macaron?” Aspik asked.

“Um… strawberry? Or chocolate. Or maybe marzipan. It depends on the day, really,” Marinette concluded, quickly grabbing several more from the box when she realized that the little stack she was already holding matched up exactly with Ladybug’s preferences. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he replied. Was his face turning red, all of a sudden? Oh God, were her macarons giving him some sort of allergic reaction? Marinette was rapidly beginning to panic when Aspik changed the subject: “So, in your expert opinion as the Lady Blogger’s best friend, do you think Ladybug and Chat Noir will ever get together?”

“Oh, um…” she fumbled, surprised by the question.

“I mean, I know that they have to keep it professional and focus on fighting Hawk Moth, but do you think she’d give him a chance after Hawk Moth is defeated?”

His voice was light and casual, but he had started to fidget with his harp again. Why did he care about her and Chat Noir? “I don’t know, maybe. They seem good together when they fight,” she replied, hoping she sounded like she wasn’t close to the situation.

“Yeah, but is he too goofy for her? I mean, obviously his jokes are fire, but do you think Ladybug wants someone more serious?”

“No way,” she snorted, forgetting herself for a moment. “Chat Noir is a goofball, but that’s part of his charm. It doesn’t mean he’s not an awesome superhero and friend. And yeah, occasionally he makes a joke that’s actually funny.”

She stopped short. His face was definitely turning red. For a second, she wondered if he was choking on a piece of macaron and felt a heady thrill at the thought of putting her arms around him to attempt the heimlich.

“Oh yeah,” he said, grinning down at the sidewalk, “Chat mentioned you two have hung out once or twice. He thinks you’re awesome too.”

What? When had Chat and Adrien talked about her? And more importantly, how was Ladybug going to casually ask Chat what Adrien had said about Marinette? She anxiously chomped into another macaron, nearly knocking the whole box off the ledge with her elbow. Aspik managed to catch the box before the macarons met a watery end and handed it back to her, chuckling. For the first time since she had arrived, he seemed at ease.

“I’m glad you came by today, Marinette,” he said. “You made me feel a lot better.”

Her face burned from his compliment. She stayed quiet, knowing whatever she managed to say at this moment wouldn’t be coherent.

“Can I tell you about something in confidence?” said Aspik.

She nodded, still slightly reeling.

He continued, “I was really nervous about doing this patrol today. I used the snake miraculous once before, and… it didn’t go great. There’s a reason Viperion usually has it. But I didn’t want to say ‘no’ to Ladybug.”

“Why not?” asked Marinette, snapping back to reality. “I wouldn’t -- I mean, I’m sure she wouldn’t have been mad.”

“I know. It’s just that, I really respect her. A lot. I didn’t want to disappoint her.”

“So… you don’t like being Aspik?”

He sank down to sit on the concrete, back still leaning against the stone guardrail, still watching Mirage-Bug traverse the rooftops. It answered her question.

Marinette sat down beside him, guilt gnawing at her. “I’m sure Ladybug wouldn’t ask you to, if she knew you felt that way.”

He shrugged. “I pretended it didn’t bother me when I was with her earlier. I want her to feel like she can rely on me.” He glanced briefly at Marinette, seeming to weigh how much he should tell her, then he added, “I sort of have a crush on her.”

It was a moment before Marinette could think in words again, a moment more before she remembered how to speak. “Oh. Um. Uh, how much of a crush?”

“A little one. Just, like, a normal celebrity crush.”

Marinette stared at the bricks of the building opposite them, still processing this new information. Aspik apparently took her silence for disbelief. He drew his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on top of them. “I’ve thought about what we would name our kids,” he admitted. “Is that pathetic?”

“How many kids?”

“What?”

“What?” Marinette forcibly dragged herself back into the current moment. “Nevermind, forget I asked that! Anyway, that’s not so bad... Listen, there’s this boy I know, and I don’t think he feels this way about me, but… I’ve designed outfits for our entire wedding party. So, at least we’re in the same boat. Right?”

She had no idea how many of those had come out as real words. Had they just both confessed to each other? Did it count if she was the only one who was aware of it?

Beside her, Aspik cracked a smile. “Maybe we are in the same boat. It’s nice to have some company there.”

No wonder he was so curious about her relationship with Chat. He was trying to feel out the situation. Jeez, it was so insensitive and dumb of her to ask him to patroll like this. She was never asking him to use the snake miraculous again, that was for sure. But she couldn’t tell him that right now, and suddenly, all she wanted in the world was to cheer him up.

“Maybe I could help you impress her,” she offered.

He lit up. “Really? How would we do that?”

She hadn’t thought that far ahead. So much for strategy. “Well, Alya told me Ladybug is really impressed by, umm…” --it needed to be something that wouldn’t put too much pressure on him, since he was already stressed-- “uh, dancing.”

“Really? I’ve never heard that before.”

“It’s, um, from an unpublished interview.”

Marinette really hoped that sounded believable. It wasn’t exactly a lie about the dancing -- their class had just finished up a ballroom dancing unit in their P.E. class. Even Marinette, with her legendary clumsiness, had loved it… and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t stolen a glance or two at Adrien during those classes, amazed at how he seemed to be a natural at everything he did. She continued, “Yeah, so maybe next time you see her, you could tell her you’re really good at--”

“Can I borrow that for a second?” he interrupted, pointing at her phone, which was resting on her knee. She nodded and nudged it toward him, thanking her lucky stars she had changed her background picture to one of her and Alya the week before. He tapped on the phone screen for a moment, before a tinny melody started floating from the speaker. Marinette recognized one of the sweeping classical songs they had danced to in class. Aspik set her phone down gently on the sidewalk and stood up, holding a hand out to Marinette.

“Let’s do it,” he said.

Marinette didn’t trust herself to speak as she let him help her up and placed her hands on his shoulders. He led her in a simple waltz step -- good enough to impress Mirage-Bug on a nearby rooftop but simple enough that Marinette wouldn’t recognize that they had learned in the same class. If she didn’t already know, that was. He was a good hero. And so cute, so sweet and considerate. So good at video games… Marinette let her mind trail off into a happy daze, hoping the song never ended.

When the music eventually did end, he swept her into a dramatic dip, making her giggle with a mixture of terror and joy. He laughed too, pulling her back to her feet. They both turned at the sound of clapping nearby. Rena had joined Mirage-Bug on the rooftop and was beaming down at them. She had burst into applause and (bless her) had made Mirage-Bug do the same.

Aspik waved up at them, beaming too. “Do you think she liked it?” he asked, softly enough that only Marinette could hear.

“Yeah,” Marinette murmured dizzily, “I’d say Ladybug liked that a lot.”

One of his hands was still resting casually on her waist, and to her shocked delight, he gave her a gentle squeeze. For a moment or two (or several), she allowed herself to lean into him, and to not think about how she could never tell him that she was the girl he loved, or how much Alya would tease her about this in the morning at school, or that she had stepped on her phone by accident. She loved him so much.

But this was a strategic interaction after all and she couldn’t indulge herself forever, so after one final squeeze, she stepped away from him and told him she had to get going.

“Thanks for the dance,” he said, “and for cheering me up.”

“Any time. I’ll, um, put in a good word for you with Ladybug next time I’m handing out cookies.”

“Oh, thanks.” Another blush crept under his mask. “I’ll put in a good word for you with Chat Noir.”

“What?!”

Had she heard him right? How had she managed to give him the idea that her crush was on Chat? Before she could correct him, a series of leaps had carried him to the top of a nearby building where he was now talking animatedly to Rena Rouge (although not before she noticed that his face had turned an impressively bright shade of pink).

“That was nice of you Marinette,” Tikki said, peaking out of Marinette’s handbag. “I’m proud of you for staying calm.”

Marinette stole one last glance at Aspik and Rena and started back toward home. “Thanks, Tikki. I really wish I could tell him.”

“Maybe one day, you can.”

“Yeah, maybe one day.”

Marinette felt a heartsick pang at the thought of how long she would have to wait until then. Nevertheless, with the waltz still echoing in her head and her own blush warming her cheeks, she couldn’t seem to wipe the smile from her face as she walked home.

#I haven't written fanfic in ages and honestly this was so much fun #adrienette #adrinette #adrinette april 2020 #adrinette april #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #aspik #miraculous ladybug #mlb #my writing

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fleckcmscott · 5 years

Text

Watch What Happens - Chapter 13

Chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Summary: Arthur, an aspiring comedian, has struggled to find normalcy and compassion his entire life. Y/N, a hard-working paralegal and transplant to Gotham, has just been put on a case for the Wayne Foundation. When they meet, unexpected sparks fly.

Chapter warning: Adult Situation, Swearing, Angst, Brief mention of past self-harm

Words: 2,501

The train line to Arthur's apartment wasn't yet running when he left Y/N's place. He had to walk home, which he didn’t mind. The cold air helped clear his head as he went, smoking all the way. There weren't many people on the streets this early. A newspaper stand owner was readying his shop. A few homeless people were on steps, wrapped up and trying to keep warm. Some construction workers were walking by, carrying signs.

Arthur looked at every single one of them as he passed. Could they finally see him? Did they know what had happened? Was Gotham able to tell his life had been turned on its head in the past twenty-four hours?

He giggled lightly. I got laid. No. Even as that phrase came to him, it felt crude, wrong. He was ashamed he'd even thought of it. Almost a week ago, Gary had told him to be a gentleman - a gentleman would never say something like that. But he didn’t know how he was supposed to think about what had occurred. He speculated as to whether he'd merely fucked Y/N or made love to her. Slight panic filled him as he realized he needed it to be the latter.

As Arthur passed by, he stopped in front of the grocery where he'd first run into her. It wasn't open yet. But he wanted to relive the experience. His eyelids shut as he remembered the small talk she’d made, her stare, her quiet “night.” Those small gestures, which had seemed natural and easy for her, had started a pattern that captured him. And he didn't want to be let loose.

When he reached the foreboding stairs that led to his home, he sighed and surveyed them. Every time he trudged up them it was a choice. A choice to not give into the negative thoughts and anger that plagued him. This morning, thinking of Y/N, imagining she would be at his apartment waiting to greet him with a kiss, made ascending the concrete a little easier.

When he got home, he followed his usual routine of getting into his house clothes, putting his laundry in the hamper, and checking on Penny. Thankfully, she was still asleep. Before sitting down at the breakfast bar with his journal, he grabbed a cookie (one of the chocolate chip Y/N had brought over) and a short glass of milk. Once situated, he opened the notebook to what he had been writing at her apartment, pondering.

When he had been in his early twenties, he'd kissed a girl, once. She'd been a co-worker at one of his gigs. It had been an impulsive act and nothing ever came of it. But he'd held onto that memory for years, until he'd understood no woman would ever have an interest in him. He'd tried, and failed, to shield himself by not hoping.

Kissing Y/N was different. She said he made her happy, claimed he turned her on. She'd been unbelievably responsive to his touch. And the way she’d begged him to fill her... "Arthur...I need you inside me." Goosebumps broke out at his recollections. He was thankful for the guidance she’d given him. It had been enough for him to feel like a participant instead of the novice he was.

Later, the sensation of her throbbing against his mouth when she came, knowing he had done that to her, had been one of the only times he had ever felt powerful. They'd both gotten up off her couch a little shakily. She'd still looked blissful and somewhat dazed. He smiled as he remembered how her lips had pulled at him, then parted as she moaned. ("She was so noisie! I can never bring her over. Penny woud heer everything.") He still couldn’t fathom how she hadn't minded when his cock chose not to cooperate. And that she’d asked him to come over again - tonight!

She’d offered the use of her shower, and he’d gladly accepted. As he'd watched her pick out towels for him, standing there in her bathrobe and bare feet, he'd been unable to speak. She must have noticed, because she'd kissed his nose and asked if he was all right. He'd nodded.

He'd had to use her shampoo, resulting in his hair smelling like strawberries. Vaguely, he wondered if he smelled like a woman. But he decided he didn't care - the scent kept her closer. He'd wanted to shave, but she only had a wet razor hanging on the shower wall. Since his most recent release from Arkham, he'd used an electric shaver. The therapist and doctor there had advised him not to keep other types of razors in his apartment. Blinking, he’d turned away from it, deciding to shave at home.

After getting dressed and leaving the bathroom, Arthur had found Y/N in the kitchen. She'd put coffee on and two mugs were on the counter. It was a snapshot of domesticity he never thought he'd get to experience in his wretched life. They'd stood together in front of the stove while she made toast and burned scrambled eggs. He was proud of himself for having taken only five or so seconds to put his arm around her back at the waist. Then he’d tried to distract himself from wondering if it was all right by sipping his drink.

She’d leaned into him with her hip, looked up, and said, “I never noticed your sideburns before.” She’d rubbed at one gently, then moved her hand to his chin and pulled him to her for a quick peck. “They’re cute.” He hadn’t said anything in response to the sudden compliment, still suspicious of the idea that a woman, even Y/N, could find any part of him “cute.” Averted eyes and a slight, toothy grin had been all he’d managed.

When she’d served breakfast, he hadn't had the heart to tell her he wasn't hungry. He’d enjoyed the raspberry jam on his toast - he usually only bought grape, it being the cheapest option. And even though the eggs were terrible, he’d smothered them with ketchup and eaten them. She'd been talking the entire time, telling him about her upcoming day and asking about his. But he'd only half heard her. He was too busy trying to figure out how he was ever going to interact with her normally after all this.

His eyebrows pinched. Even before his first breakdown, connections had been impossible for him to make, and Arkham hadn’t exactly been a place to seek warmth. For so many years, he'd yearned for someone, to matter to that person and know what it was to love them. He was at a loss as to what to do now that he had it. If he had it.

Changing the context of how he thought of himself to include not only mentally ill loner but also potential romantic partner, would be a mindfuck. He wasn’t sure he was up to the task. And he knew he had nothing to offer besides his problems and his heart, whatever that was worth. He hoped it would be sufficient.

Holding his pen, he bit his lip. He wouldn't be able to take back the words once they were out. Carefully, writing as clearly as he could, he let the ink touch the paper. "I think I love Y/N. Shud I tell her? What if its to soon? I don't want her to be upset." Staring at what he'd written, Arthur let out a long breath and lit a cigarette. Then, smiling, he put his head down as his eyes welled up. He wiped at them hastily.

He had left Y/N’s apartment reluctantly. Even after her invitation, he felt as though stepping out her front door would wake him up from a dream he’d never return to. The solid feeling of her lips on his, her tongue teasing his mouth for entry when they'd kissed goodbye, helped assure him there'd be more. Part of him had wanted to tell her he loved her, like he'd just written in his notebook. It would have been nice to experience saying it to someone. But he'd forced himself to hold back. That was a vulnerability he couldn’t allow. Not yet. But he hoped she'd been able to see it in his eyes and feel it in how he'd touched her.

As he took a drag off his cigarette, he crossed out the word "think" and replaced it with "kno."

Arthur had come dangerously close to confessing everything to her. It would have been a relief to get it out the way. To have her end it if she decided he was too much of a mess to take on, which he assumed was likely. But he hadn't been able to go through with it. And the permission she'd given him to keep his secrets, even though she'd told him she wanted to know him, had been confusing. Now he wasn't sure how much she actually wanted to learn.

But she kept asking so many questions.

He didn't know what he was obligated to tell her. That one of the few times Penny had paid attention was when he'd been hitting his head against the shower wall? That she’d had him committed more than once? He wasn't upset with Penny for that - he was grateful she’d momentarily cared enough to stop him from hurting himself. But on many days he wondered why. Arthur Fleck was a meaningless speck. Born to be put upon and feel bad while trying to take care of his mother and deal with whatever other shit life decided to throw at him.

Taking a deep breath to quell his mind, his eyes shut. Sitting there all day, counting down the minutes until Y/N touched him again, wasn't going to help. There was vacuuming that needed to be done. The bathroom had to be cleaned. And he needed to start his day so he could go out and find a job.

He'd cut back on groceries, changing from seltzer to tap water, buying white instead of wheat bread, getting TV dinners that were marked down because they were close to expiring. But it was still difficult to maintain his meager savings. Maybe he could pick up a spare shift at Amusement Mile. It was the off season, but there had to be work to do.

He wrote another line in his journal before closing it: “Gotta work on more jokes. No time to waste."

After getting up from the breakfast bar, Arthur padded into the kitchen to start Penny's Farina porridge. Still pretty full from Y/N's delightfully awful cooking, he started making Penny an extra portion. He felt a twinge of remorse for having left her alone all night. He knew he was all she had. Until four weeks ago, she'd been all he'd had, too.

Once he was in the bedroom, he opened the window shade and sat in the chair next to her. He studied her face before reaching out, wondering if she would be proud of him if she knew what had happened. Then he peeled the blanket back and touched her hand. "Mom, come on,” he said gently. “It's time to wake up."

Her eyelids started to flutter; she eventually focused on him. "Happy."

He gulped, concentrating on her face. Ask how I am. I finally have something good to say. I did my act! I'm in love! He was sure he looked as desperate as he felt. Please notice me…

It took her a few seconds to sit up. "Happy, I wrote a new letter. It's on the coffee table."

Sighing, he turned to look out the window. "Okay." After nodding to himself, he stood and helped her out of bed, lifting her light frame gently until she was stably on her feet.

As he guided her to the living room, she spoke. "You smell like perfume."

He smiled, the hurt in his chest softening a bit. "That's because I was with Y/N. I had a big date." A big overnight date, he thought with pride, then laughed as he blushed. He deposited Penny on her usual chair and flicked on the TV. On the way back to the kitchen, he grabbed the envelope. As he got out a bowl, he studied the letter. What on earth could his mother be constantly writing to Thomas Wayne about? He checked briefly to make sure she wasn't paying attention, then opened it, his back to the living room.

His reading wasn't the best, and it took him time to take in the words on the page. "Your son..." "Our son..." He reread those key phrases, thinking he must be mistaken. As he went further, his grip on the papers tightened. "Arthur is a good boy." His jaw clenched. "...how happy he is most of the time." "I love you forever, Penny Fleck."

Slowly, he folded the letter back together and stuffed it in its envelope. Despite the deep breath he took, he couldn't stop the confusion, anger, and hint of excitement from blooming in him. A scowl came across his face as he tried to control himself, failing already.

Arthur slammed his fist on the counter, knocking the bowl on it to the floor with a crash.

Penny called from the living room. "Happy, what happened? Did you hurt yourself again?"

"How come you never told me?" he yelled, going to the living room entrance.

She stood from the chair, pointing at him. "Is that my letter? You have no right opening my mail!"

He slowly advanced on her. "How could you keep this from me?"

Penny ran into the bathroom, faster than he'd seen her move in years. "You're gonna kill me. You're gonna give me a heart attack!" she shrieked, slamming the door and locking it.

"I'll give you a-" he followed her and pounded on the door, then jiggled the handle.

"I'm not talking to you until you stop being angry!" she yelled.

Immediately, he withdrew, pacing back and forth. "Okay. Okay," he said meekly. "I'm not angry, Mom," he said calmly, shoulders tightening as he approached the bathroom again. "I'm not angry." Leaning in, he put his hand on the door. "Please. Mom. Is this real?"

There was a long pause before her muffled voice came through the wood. "He's an extraordinary man, Happy. A very powerful man." Arthur stared at the door in disbelief. "We were in love. He said it was best that we not be together because of appearances."

When he leaned his head against the door, he sighed. "And I could never tell anyone-," she continued, "-because. Well, I signed some papers." His eyes drifted shut. "And besides, you can imagine what people would say about Thomas and me. And what they'd say about you."

His answer came quietly, voice rough with emotion. "What would they say, mom?"

He heard her intake of breath before she answered. "That you're an unwanted bastard."

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @clowndaddyfleck @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @invisiblewispofwhimsey @let-the-stars-fall-in-the-abyss

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x ofc #arthur fleck x female reader #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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theprodigypenguin · 5 years

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if u are still taking prompts can u do 54. “How long have you been standing there?” With jegulus????

54. “How long have you been standing there?”

This was reaaaaally fun to write eheheheheh~

Regulus had seen some pretty bizarre stuff in his years at Hogwarts. Things he couldn’t explain, things he understood but just couldn’t mentally deal with because of how truly absurd it was, things he simply ignored because he didn’t have the time or energy to deal with it. He’d walked in on Severus Snape in the Slytherin boy’s lavatory sitting in the corner ugly crying with a brush in one hand and wand in the other, his hair a nest of actual rats (likely aftermath of a hex). He’d witnessed his brother splashing into black lake screaming he wasn’t coming back until he’d married a mermaid, while Peter clung to his waist begging him not to, James laughing his ass off on the shore as Remus stood beside him with an open book lifted in front of his face to make it easier to ignore his foolish friends. He’d even accidentally walked up on Professor McGonogall and Professor Dumbledore in a heated discussion about what sounded like love.

“It’s Black, Minnie dear, trust me, I know these things.”

“Absurd! It’s Evans!”

“Thirty Galleons as agreed, Minnie.”

Regulus didn’t know what the hell they’d been talking about or what they were betting on, but he did remember how adamantly McGonogall had refused to pay without “concrete proof”. Whatever that meant.

Bottom line, Regulus had seen and been witness to many strange occurrences, but through the years he’d come to just accept the oddities. It was a day to day normality when your older brother was Sirius Black, who smuggled weird Muggle crap into Grimmauld Place and spent his summers locked into his room reading magazines with pictures that didn’t even move. If anything was weird, it was his obsession with “motorbikes”, whatever the hell those were.

Still, this would definitely be strange enough to add onto Regulus’ list of weird happenings. It was just after curfew, Regulus was walking along the hall that lead to the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room, Prefect badge in view so teachers wouldn’t think he was breaking any rules (he was just doing his job). Standing in the middle of the hall was James Potter, who was positioned in front of a glass display case holding Quidditch memorabilia. At first Regulus thought he was just admiring what was there, until the older boy leaned closer to the glass, squinting and grinning his teeth, lifting a hand to pick something from between them, then turned his head and wiped at a smudge of dirt or chocolate on his cheek. He then bowed his head, eyes lifted to watch his reflection as he ran his fingers up into the untamed fringe of dark hair.

Regulus had absolutely no idea what the idiot was doing. Normal people would go to an actual mirror to freshen up, but James seemed fully satisfied in admiring his reflection in the glass display case, standing straight and fixing his tie where his Head Boy pin was secured into it, smoothing a hand down the front of his white button up to wipe away the wrinkles, then fidgeted with the buttons of his sleeves, folding them back to show off his forearms and the muscles built up from years of Quidditch. He has nice arms, Regulus thought in passing, watching with squinted, still confused eyes as James lifted a hand to rub roughly at his jaw. Regulus was close enough to note the shadow on his face. Was James already old enough to be getting stubble like that?

“Should I come back later and give you two some privacy?” Regulus asked on a drawl, finally interrupting James, who jerked so violently to the side it looked like someone had cursed him.

“Mother of Merlin’s bloody bitch!” the Gryffindor screamed, hugging the wall and gaping over at Regulus with wide, startled eyes. Regulus couldn’t control the snort, lifting a hand to his mouth to hide the smile as he dipped forward a little and James glared at him. “How long have you been standing there?!”

“Long enough, I imagine,” Regulus snickered, looking off to the side and rubbing the back of his hand over his lips to force the smile off his face, then looked back at James, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights (whatever headlights were, Sirius used that expression a lot). “What are you doing, exactly? I wasn’t aware that admiring one’s reflection was part of your Head Boy duties.”

James’ entire face went dark red and he stepped away from the wall, lifting a fist to cough into before setting both hands on his hips. “Of course! It’s important to observe everything as Head Boy!”

“Including yourself?”

“Exactly!”

“You know you can’t fool around like that with me, right?” Regulus arched an eyebrow and James seemed to deflate, lifting a hand to ruffle the back of his hair, one corner of his lips curling into an awkward grin that had Regulus staring. He had a lot of smile lines in his face. James looked… older, suddenly, now that Regulus was looking. When had that happened?

“Ah, I’m man enough to admit I admire myself, Reg,” James said, looking back at his reflection and snapping his fingers before pointing charmingly at the glass with two finger guns. “I’m just wise enough to pick up on the aesthetic. It’s important to admire beautiful things, isn’t it?”

Regulus just squinted at James. “I think you’ve busted your head one too many times, Potter.”

“What, you don’t think I’m hot?”

“Is it a requirement to answer?”

James strode towards Regulus unexpectedly, and Regulus backed up, startled, until his shoulders hit the sturdy stone wall and James was hovering over him. Had he always been this tall? Or was Regulus just smaller than he thought? James had a smouldering smile on his face that Regulus had heard girls squeak over before, and suddenly he felt very on edge, his fight or flight response making his fingers tingle as James leaned closer.

“Absolutely,” James said, and for a minute Regulus forgot what question he was answering. “As Head Boy, I can give points, but I can also take them away you know. Depending on your answer, maybe I’ll give you five or ten, yeah?”

“You’re bribing me, are you?” Regulus narrowed his eyes dangerously as James continued to grin. This idiot had gotten unbearably cocky this year alone, what was his problem? Regulus wanted to knock him down a peg or two, but what was he supposed to say to rattle the idiot? What was the best way to startle a Gryffindor who was a little too in love with himself? Regulus tried not to smirk as he purposely raked his eyes over James, from head to shoe and back up, taking his time and twisting his face into a scrutinizing stare that did its job as James went rigid, looking uncomfortable.

Regulus had to admit, James wasn’t bad looking, and it looked like he could potentially crush Regulus just with his arms, which was admittedly a little impressive. His clothes seemed to fit him better, the black pants and belt with the white button up that was only half tucked into the waist of his uniform pants, and the red and gold tie that was snug around his neck. It looked odd like that, not at all the style Regulus expected to see on James Potter.

He reached up slowly and James went rigid, eyes locked with Regulus’ and smile gone as Regulus took hold of the tie knot under his chin, hooking his fingers and tugging once to loosen it a bit, then tugged at the first button on the collar of James’ shirt, flicking the collar open before dropping his hand to his side, not moving his eyes from James’ even once.

“There,” he said, and James’ brow twitched just enough to show his confusion as Regulus moved his gaze to the now visible column of James’ throat. “Not that I’m one to objectify people, but if you want a compliment, you should probably earn it.” Regulus met his eye again, lifting his chin in a haughty air people had come to recognize from him, though normally it was just a ploy to hide insecurity. “But you know, Potter… I’m more inclined to think I’m a little better looking than you. Black genes and all. It runs in my blood.”

“What does?” James asked, and Regulus had to note the almost drunk drawl to his voice.

He lifted a hand, tucking his fingers into the side of his own black hair and tilting his head into his hand, grinning at James, who looked completely out of it. “Aesthetic.”

The last thing he expected was for James to close in on him, hands pressing flat to the wall on either side of Regulus, pinning him there with his chest as their face came inches from touching. Regulus was startled, but somehow able to keep his steely composure as he narrowed his eyes almost daring James to do something. He looked completely at ease and unaffected by the sudden closeness, but under his chest, his heart was racing. They were close enough that Regulus could see when James’ pupils expanded, as if he was staring at something he wanted, something he was hungry for.

It was elating to realize what he wanted was Regulus. He felt powerful for a moment, even if this was a fluke and would never happen again. Regulus wanted to see how far James would go. All he had to do was look down, flick his eyes to James’ mouth, and suddenly the heat was on him, their lips crushing together. Regulus pinched his eyes closed and gasped at the tongue prying between the seam of his mouth, hot and deep and making his entire body feel like air. Regulus dug his hands into the wall to keep from touching James, though he wanted to, so badly, to run his hands along his chest and feel the muscle in his arm. He didn’t, because this wasn’t passion, this was just a game, and Regulus intended on winning.

When James pulled away, his eyes were dark with something mature and indecent, but Regulus just lifted a hand, swiping his thumb across his lips as if he was cleaning a meal from his mouth, staring at James through his eyelashes.

“How many points does that get me, Mister Head Boy?” he asked, and James blinked, cheeks red and hot, opening and closing his mouth before muttering.

“Fifty points to Slytherin…”

“Thank you very much,” Regulus smiled slyly, passing James and reaching out to drag a teasing hand across his side as he passed, grinning at the Gryffindor from over his shoulder. “Nice doing business with you.”

And with that he continued on his corridor towards Slytherin common room, trying his hardest to forget the kiss, though James made it incredibly difficult when the next morning he still looked starry eyed and for some reason wouldn’t let anyone fix the tie that was crooked and loose on his neck.

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