#i took so much time drawing the tape player that i think it took more time than jonathan sims himself

[9ffairs]

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

June part i

~

Hope you all enjoy! Maybe all of Finn's superstitions in this chapter can go towards helping me beat this cold I've got...

Also, it's beginning to look a lot like ficmas...doo doo doo doo doo...:)

~

Ain’t it funny how I’ve wanted this all my life?

It started with a no look pass. That’s when Remus felt the buzz. Sirius had nearly put one in from James, who had kept his eyes straight ahead, drawing Saint’s attention. And it had almost worked. At least it had brought the promising feeling of a win. The click of the team. Remus shouldn’t be thinking like that. They were six minutes away from the first period's horn and this game changed at the drop of a hat. Logan had collided with Kota at one point, and there was something there now. Quiet hostility. A they were mine first type of deal. Remus could see it all over Logan’s face, no matter how much Kota loomed over him.

Now the Rangers had a high sticking penalty. Remus took his mouth guard out as the whistle blew and shoved it into his glove. Sirius was on the other side of the ice, on the tail of one of the referees and talking a mile a minute, gesturing to James and his bloody lip. There was a kid at the glass just behind him with a sign that said Nuts for Knutty! and he was still clutching the puck Leo had thrown him earlier. Remus almost wished the game would just pause for a moment so he could take it in properly. If this was to be the last game of his first season in the NHL, he wanted to remember it.

“Ouch,” Remus said to James as they circled close for the face-off.

“You bet,” James said, dabbing at his mouth.

Coach kept him on for the penalty kill. Sirius faced off against Zibanejad and Remus darted backwards when he won it. It had that game six feeling: All of them just wanting it to be over already, the slog of knowing that, if the Lions wanted it to go their way, they had one more full game stretch after this one to push through. Maybe more. Play-offs meant there was no over-time, and no shoot-out, just endless periods until someone gave in.

The puck was stuck in their zone and Thomas was beginning to look gassed. Kasey was up in the net, shifting with every ebb and flow of the Rangers’ passing. Remus poked the puck out from Kakko’s grasp and hoped it was clean—he’d nearly felt like he’d hooked it, but the whistle didn’t go. He managed to get it out of the zone and saw Thomas and Olli race off towards the bench gratefully.

He and Sirius didn’t say anything once they were seated next to each other, just caught their breath and watched. Pascal delivered a sound slap-shot, but it went just wide. Logan got the rebound, easy, and sent it to Fox. The horn went just before they put anything real together.

“D’accord,” Sirius said, tapping Remus’ thigh. “We’re not good, but we’re not bad.”

“What an endorsement.”

Remus handed off his gloves off to be dried as they walked down the tunnel. He could hear fans shouting their names as they passed by the glass that looked into the VIP lounge. There was a small girl standing there in a BLACK jersey. Remus watched as Sirius smiled down at her and touched his glove to the glass. The girl grinned and a woman who Remus thought must be her mother promptly burst into tears.

“Jesus.” Thomas laughed from behind him.

“Just me, actually,” Sirius said, and Thomas shoved him.

The locker room already had music playing so Remus guessed that Coach had decided to let them be, or perhaps Sirius had requested a players only break. Remus sat back in his stall and yanked his helmet off. He cut through the beat up tape of his stick with a short blade and sent a look towards Leo, who had a towel around his neck. He was leaned in close to Kasey, who was talking quietly to him.

“Kind of thought Coach was going to say something,” Thomas said. “Is Cap…”

“I didn’t hear him ask,” Remus said, but looked towards Sirius. He was glancing towards the door, too. It opened, and Remus expected Arthur or one of the assistants, but to his surprise, Alex O’Hara slipped through. He was in full gear, only a backwards hat replacing his helmet.

“Oh,” Remus breathed. He looked towards Kasey and Leo. Oh.

“What the hell,” Thomas said. He opened his mouth, obviously ready to shout something at Alex, but Remus put a hand on his thigh to stop him. Thomas looked over at him. “What?”

Kasey had already seen Alex and Remus watched his chest rise and fall in a quick, uneven breath. He put a hand on Leo’s knee, gave him a short smile, and then stood just as Alex reached him. Alex put a hand on his waist, but they said nothing. Kasey simply held his gaze for a long moment, and then turned to the room.

Oh.

“Hey, boys,” Kasey said, voice raised. “Boys, can I…” He’d taken some of his padding off, his hair pushed back from his face. “Can I talk for a second?”

It took everyone a moment to quiet down. They were a little surprised, maybe. Kasey wasn’t one to make speeches, even if it was a players only meeting, but he walked slowly to the center of the locker room.

“Sorry,” he smiled, but it was shaky. “I know we’re all focused on the W. I’ll be quick.”

“Don’t worry, Bliz. What’s up?” Sirius said, and Remus saw that his gray eyes were already somber. They darted to Remus’. If Remus had to guess, Kasey had asked Sirius to keep the room clear for him. Maybe even to have someone get Alex.

“Well. Thanks, Cap.” He looked around at them all. “Look, I know our season’s not over, boys, but I just wanted to say…God.” Kasey cleared his throat, looked down so his hair fell back into his face some. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Kase,” Alex said softly from just behind him.

Remus couldn’t describe how difficult it was, watching Kasey, Kasey of all people, get choked up. Watch him work to speak around tears. He watched some of the others realize what was probably about to happen. Thomas’ face fell. Leo stood, like he was going to go to Kasey.

“There, uh,” Kasey cleared his throat, tried for a smile. “There isn’t much I love more than you guys. Really. These years have just been the best of my life.”

“Bliz…” James breathed, took a step forward. The realization was slow around the room, but it was there. This had been in the air for so long that it felt strange to see it properly.

“Really, they have.” Kasey said. “I mean…God, lock me in this room, see if I put up a fight. I won’t. But. But it’s not good for me. I don’t want out of this game, I really don’t, I just—my body can’t do it anymore, boys. And I have to see that. I have to respect it.”

Remus put a hand to his chest. It was the strangest thing, he couldn’t remember ever having any sort of conversation like this one with his college teammates. Sometimes, he thought he had forced himself to forget moments from that time. Pushed them out of his mind. Now, he tried to remember. He tried to think of saying goodbye, or good game, or even being in the locker room with his sling. He couldn’t remember, but he wanted to help Kasey and so he tried. All that came was a blur of pain and dark rooms and a young, young Julian.

“I just…I have a feeling that…” Kasey wiped at his eyes. “Fuck. I know I shouldn’t have done this in the middle of a fucking—elimination game, oh my God.” It drew a small laugh out of most of the team. “You know, this isn’t gonna be our final game of the season, no fucking way, but it could be mine because it’s hard out there and—” His voice pitched up and he cleared his throat. “And I didn’t want it to happen, I didn’t want it to end, without everyone knowing, which is probably—maybe at one point in my life I would’ve called that selfish but I don’t think it is now.”

And then Leo was at his side, hand on his shoulder. He was crying, too, blue eyes vivid.

Kasey smiled and wrapped an arm around him. “And look whose fucking hands you’re in, all right? You’re good as golden.”

There was a heartbeat of silence. No one seemed to know what to say. Leo hugged Kasey, eyes closed and fisting the back of his jersey. Sirius walked forward next, and it seemed to break the spell.

“Don’t tempt me about locking you in here, Bliz,” Thomas said as he strode forward. “I just might do it.”

Kasey laughed as Thomas pulled him into a tight hug. He thumped Kasey on the back. “You going back out with us, right?”

“I want to,” Kasey said. “I think I can.”

“We’ll get this for you,” Sirius said. He put a hand on Kasey’s shoulder. “This is still yours, all of it. No matter what. You know that.”

Kasey looked at Sirius for a long moment. “Cap. Thank you. I don’t think my career would be the same without you.”

Sirius brow drew together and he shook his head. “Non. It’s all you, man.”

His eyes went behind Sirius. “And Dumo…” He pressed his lips together, unable to finish. “I…You’re…”

“Bliz,” Pascal smiled softly. “I’m probably not too far behind you in this case. I know that.”

Remus walked forward and put a hand on Sirius’ back.

“All I can say is that it’s an honor to play with you at our backs,” Pascal said.

Someone let out a whoop, and then they room was sort of clapping, sort of crying, and at least one strand of tension broke.

“I’m feeling a group hug,” Thomas said. “No, Cap, don’t pull that look on me. C’mon. Everyone, get your ass up.”

Remus couldn’t help but laugh, tearful as it was as he let Sirius wrap him up on one side, Thomas on the other. Timmy, Olli, Kota, Leo, Kris, Pascal.

There was a little jostle after a moment as a final person enthusiastically joined.

“Alex,” Pascal said without opening his eyes. “You should absolutely be here, but get your elimination game Ranger blue out of our hug.”

“My bad.”

~

Finn didn’t like being home alone. He didn’t like that he couldn’t watch the game. He didn’t like saying goodbye to Leo and Logan, knowing they weren’t going to the same place—or even if they were, to different teams. He wanted to be in the room. He wanted to play, he wanted the burn of his muscles. He wanted to press his shoulder up against Logan’s, or Alex’s, he wanted to defend Kasey and fight anything that even touched Leo.

Instead he was sitting on the couch with all the lights off and the shades down, listening to the crackle of the radio broadcast come from his computer with the screen turned away from him. He was waiting for period two to start, not in the tunnel to the ice, but when a a plate of what felt like the first truly solid food he’d eaten in weeks. Logan had given him a big kiss when he’d asked for Leo’s spicy chicken and rice burritos. Leo and hummed away happily in the kitchen making them and served him one with a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Okay, being taken care of wasn’t that hard.

His phone rang and he knew it was his mom without having to check.

“Hi,” he said around a mouthful, flipping the screen down towards the couch.

“Hi, baby. Just checking in. Fast game, huh? You doing okay? Eating dinner?”

“Mhm, I’m good. I mean—you know. As good as I can be. Listening.”

“Aw, sweetheart. I know.” He could hear the buzz of the stadium behind her, picked out Natalie’s laugh. “I know this isn’t how you pictured it at all.”

Finn sat back against the couch. “Yeah. Did you see Al?”

“For a second before the game. And Logan. He said that if we talk to you during the game to say he loves you.”

Finn smiled. “Mm. Good. How’s Leo looking on the bench?”

“Oh, they showed just the cutest shot of him like a little turtle—well, no a very tall turtle, with his mouth and nose in his jersey. But he seems good. Kasey seems good, too. He’s made some incredible saves.”

“They sound incredible,” Finn said. “Got your whiskey?”

She laughed. “Oh, you know it. Oh, baby, we’re starting. Gotta go, but I love you very much all right? Your dad, says so, too.”

“Love ya, bud!” came his dad’s voice from a little farther away.

Finn, honestly, felt a little choked up. He blinked the tears away and looked around the dim room. They would only make his head ache. “Love you guys, too.”

He heard the phone disconnect and rested his head back against the couch, suddenly not so hungry anymore. He wrapped his plate up for later and squinted an eye shut at the bright refrigerator light. He put the kettle on—could nothing be easy while using one hand?—and steeped some mint tea. When he came back to the couch, throwing a blanket over his legs, the commercials were over.

No, let’s be honest, if Kasey Winter hadn’t made those saves in the first—I don’t know where the Lions would be right now. Sitting in their dressing room and making fucking long summer plans, that’s for sure. Instead, this is a close game, a competitive game, and most importantly, both teams are still in the game.

I agree with you, Matt. Let’s go to the bench now, for an interview with Rangers’ Logan Tremblay.

“Oh, hi, baby,” Finn said softly.

Thanks, Matt. This is Cassie Baker here with Logan Tremblay—

Finn sat bolt upright. He knew—He knew that voice. Cassie. God. Cassie fucking Baker.

Logan, how do you think this period is going to shape up based on how aggressive that first period was so far?

“Holy fuck.” Finn couldn’t help but laugh. “Holy fuck?”

To Logan’s credit, he sounded just as shocked, as if he’d simply turned around and found Cassie there waiting for him. Cassie Baker. Finn remembered bouncing blonde curls and that god-damn Greek temple of the girl’s sorority house at school. Logan kissing her neck in the hallway. Harz, can we have the room for a bit? Coming back from a cancelled class and hearing—

Finn put a hand over his mouth and laughed again. “Okay. Oh man.”

I think we are two teams that want this badly, Logan was saying. Oh, he sounded so good. It’s going to be a fight, but hopefully entertaining for the fans.

How does it feel to possibly have the chance to eliminate your old team?

“Oh no,” Finn let himself fall sideways into the couch, right onto his shoulder. “Fuck.”

Logan’s laugh, disbelieving, still surprised, filled the room. Um. Intense.

Thanks for the time.

I—thanks.

Finn sat back up, holding his shoulder. Never had he ever wanted to talk to them more. He wanted to see Logan’s face. He wanted to see Leo with his chin tucked down against his chest. He didn’t want Leo sitting on the bench alone all game, watching the others work.

Zibanejad and Black on the face-off. The Rangers have a majority of these under their belts now, but Black wins in and it’s knocked back to Lupin. Remus Lupin, quite the surprise, the secret weapon, there are Olympic rumors, and Walker brings it right to the net—and scores! Oh, this game finally has some action!

“That makes one of us,” Finn said aloud to the room. He wasn’t sure he usually talked to himself this much. Maybe it was only that he couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d been alone. The hospital room, he guessed, but even that had been for mere minutes, not hours. He tugged the blanket farther up his chest and pressed his nose into his sweatshirt. Leo’s. He held his mug close to his face. The mint. Logan’s.

Dumais to Reyes, oh, in a near miss! It’s pitched out of the zone by Fox and picked up again by Goodrow—

Finn winced as the thought that he didn’t care who won the game filtered into his mind. He just wanted them to come home.

~

Luke caught onto Logan’s look the second he was sat back on the bench, breathing hard.

“What,” Luke said. “What the fuck’s that look?”

Logan wasn’t sure where to begin. He risked another glance towards the ice tunnel. Cassie was standing there with the cameraman. She looked the same. Her hair was a shiny dark blonde, blue eyes bright, forget-me-not. She carried herself the same. She was talking fast to the cameraman, directing him with her hand that wasn’t holding her microphone. Confident. Easy. She dressed differently. Smart, well-tailored navy suit that made her short frame look taller. Their eyes met, and she sent him another nervous smile.

“Fuck,” Logan said. He flashed a quick one back and turned away.

“What?” Luke asked.

Paul, Rangers PR, had said nothing more than, Tremblay, you’re ESPN’s interview and then Logan had looked up to find…

Hi, Logan. Yeah, probably should’ve warned you a little better… It’s been a while.

Luke punched him in the arm. “Logan.”

“Ex-girlfriend.” Logan swallowed.

“Girlfriend?” Alex asked, perking up. “You, girlfriend?”

“Ouais.”

“Oh my God, show me.”

“The ESPN reporter.” Luke and Alex both whipped their heads around and Logan closed his eyes. “Don’t look.”

Alex ignored him. “The blonde?”

“She’s cute,” Luke said.

“Stop looking.”

“Didn’t she just interview you?” Alex asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you know?”

“Obviously not,” Luke said. “Dude, you look fucking rattled, what did she do to you?”

Logan didn’t really want to think on it now. They had been good. Happy. For months, really. But she hadn’t had all of him, and she’d figured that much out quickly, if not who the rest of his heart was with.

“It’s more… It’s more what I did to her.” Logan shared a glance with Alex. “Or what I felt like I did to her.”

“Huh,” Luke said. “This is transcending bench talk.”

“Ooh,” Alex said. “Big word.”

“Fuck off.” Luke smiled a little, though. “Can you play with your ex-girlfriend watching, Tremzy?”

Logan hit Luke’s helmet with his stick. “Fuck off.”

Alex snorted as he pushed off the bench with Logan when Coach tapped their shoulders. “Are we gonna talk about the Leo Knut tendencies you seem to have always possessed?”

“Big word.” Logan shoved him so hard that he actually fell over, laughing all the way down. That was sure to be on Twitter somewhere later.

~

And Tremblay shoves O’Hara down. Laughing. Wonder what was so funny.

Finn sighed. “You and me both, bud.”

~

“Dev!”

Logan caught Luke’s back-pass and found himself trapped in the corner with Pascal, the puck between their two stick blades. Logan laughed a little, thought he heard Pascal do the same, but it was over too quickly to say anything. Logan knocked it out to Luke again who drew his stick right back and slammed it towards the goal. Kasey lunged for it, the odd, acute angle, but it went right under his glove.

“Yeah!” Logan put his hands up with a grin. He tried not to look at Pascal out of the corner of his eye.

He tapped his glove to Luke’s helmet when he skated into the celly, Percy slamming into their other side.

“Fucking finally, eh,” Percy shouted. He bumped his fist against Luke’s chest, then Logan’s. “Killer pass. Gorgeous.”

There was a buzzing in Logan’s ears. The crowd. Faces that were familiar but not from now. It was like someone had put a filter over his life and all the colors were different. His eyes found Leo on the bench. He was watching the replay on the big screen.

With ten minutes left in the second period, it did feel right that they had finally scored. Tied up, one-one. Logan skated to the bench and hauled himself over it, watching Panarin’s line go out.

He squirted water down the back of his neck and hit Luke’s thigh. “Good.”

“Yeah, well.” Luke wiped his visor clean with a towel. “Let’s just try and keep it up and end this round.”

Logan didn’t say anything. There was that feeling again. The one he couldn’t quite admit to himself. It was real once this round was over—or even realer than it was now. He wasn’t a Lion anymore. He was someone who ended the Lions’ season.

Panarin’s shot went wide twice and Trouba shot one over Kasey’s shoulder that got overturned for interference. Kasey stood with his back to the ice while the referees reviewed it. He had his helmet up and his water bottle in hand, but he didn’t drink. Logan knew Alex had gone into the Lions’ room. He knew what Kasey had announced. He wished he had been there. He wished he had known before Alex went so he could come. Kasey might not be on his team anymore, but he was still Kasey. He had wanted to stand next to Leo and hold his hand.

Six minutes left in the second. 1-1.

Logan jumped the boards right as the puck soared into the netting above the glass and the whistle went. Logan headed towards the Lions’ zone, but stopped when no one else did. He looked around.

“What’s up?” asked Will.

“I don’t know,” Logan said, frowning as Coach Arthur held up a T with his hands and Kasey started skating towards the bench. “They’re calling a time out.”

~

“Come on,” Finn said aloud to the dark room. “Come on.”

The more time went by, the more superstitious he seemed to get. He kept switching up his position on the couch. He’d even taken the computer into the kitchen while he finished his dinner, hoping they might have more luck if he was in a different room. He was putting his plate in the dishwasher when—

And looks like Leo Knut is taking Kasey Winter’s place in goal for the second game in a row.

Finn turned. “Le.”

Why the sudden switch, we’ll have to wait and see but one could only guess that it has something to do with Kasey Winter’s injury struggles this season. Well, recent seasons, I should say. I gotta feel for the guy, he’s one hell of a goalie.

Finn shut the dishwasher with a beep and cursed. As the final minutes of the second period wound down, he tried to picture Leo there. Wary of Logan. Trying to forget that it was Logan. Just number 71.

Tremblay with a high shot. Finn closed his eyes. —Goes wide of Knut. Kakko picks it up.

Finn listened to the third leaning against the kitchen island with his fingers against his lips. Waiting to hear Logan’s name, or Leo’s. LoganLeoLoganLeo, forced to go against each other.

Instead, it felt like all he heard was Remus’.

Lupin has had ten shots on goal alone in these last two periods. None of them have gone in mind you, but that fact is impressive and—oh that’s from Walker straight to Lupin’s tape and carrying, carrying, back to Walker, no look—and he scores! Remus Lupin with a five-hole on a beauty of a no looker from Thomas Walker! He brings it up to 2-1 Lions.

“Yeah!” Finn shouted, rising to his feet. “Fuck yes!”

He wanted to turn on the TV. He wanted to see. He wanted to watch them celebrate, he wanted to skate across the ice and hug Remus because he would have been on the line. He would have. He could have helped.

“Fucking sling,” Finn whispered, tugging at the elastic strap. Most of tea had long gone cold, and he wanted a popsicle to suck on and dull out the ache in his head a little. Or, really, he wanted to close his eyes and go to sleep but he couldn’t do that. Not before the game was through. It was only 9:30 for fuck sake. Though he did find himself wishing that it wouldn’t go to any OT periods. If he stayed standing he’d stay awake.

He paced to the window as the puck battled between zones. Logan was feisty tonight. He’d come close to blows with Kota twice it sounded like. The Rangers went up on a power play when Kota tripped Logan and Finn nearly cheered before remembering that it was the Rangers. Finn walked around the couch as the whistle blew for another Rangers icing. Whoever kept dumping was only doing the Lions a favor.

“C’mon,” Finn mumbled. “I’m tired and I miss you, c’mon.”

Logan on power play one. Logan, Alex. Back to Logan. Finn was too tense, he really wasn’t supposed to be this tense, he was supposed to be firmly relaxing. But Leo. God, Logan and Alex in front of Leo’s net, glove save against Alex, Logan’s shot going wide. Logan was pulling back, Finn could feel it. He was trying, trying, and then seeing Leo. And he was going to get so much shit for it. Finn sat down, rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He should have been praying for a win, but he was praying for this game to be over.

O’Hara to Tremblay, back to O’Hara—and he scores!

“Yeah!” Finn said then cursed. “I mean, no.” He groaned. He had to stop doing that. “Fuck.”

Alex O’Hara with a very clean tip-in off of an assist from Tremblay, Knut didn’t have a chance. 2-2 now this is a tight game and the scoring has picked up tremendously. The puck drops Jesus Christ, Lupin again! Christ almighty! Lupin again! Right off the face-off! 3-2 Lions!

“Loops!” Finn stood and laughed through the word. They were ahead now. God, the announcer was rambling, the pile up on the ice must be insane, celebrating. There was a short enough amount of time that this could be it, it could be, especially with the crowd the way it was, God, Finn could hear it, he could see it, even if he couldn’t. The pounding of hands on the glass and his teammates shouting right beside him. The way Thomas and Evgeni jumped up and down, making the bench rattle.

There was three minutes to go. They were ahead, and Logan was trying. God, Finn could feel him. The way he moved, the way he breathed. He’d spent his entire career watching him, waiting for him, tracking him even when he couldn’t see him. Catch a pass, catch a mistake. Finish a goal, pretty or dirty. Alex was trying his best but twice they’d gotten their pocket picked by Sirius and it made Finn hide a smile. No one could play with Logan as well as him.

It didn’t stop him from scoring though. Of course it didn’t.

That is one slick wrap-around by Tremblay.

Finn closed his eyes. He wanted that highlight. He wanted it bad.

Knut didn’t look like he even knew where the puck was.

Finn put his head in his hands. He could hear the celebration. “Le. Aw, baby, it’s okay, it’s okay…”

The Rangers even it up again with forty-six seconds on the clock. Oh, the Lions don’t like that. Arthur Weasley doesn’t like that, but he’s used his timeout. Gryffindor will have to figure something out.

“Come on,” Finn whispered. “Come on, boys…”

It was a blur of phrases and images playing behind his closed eyes.

God, impossible save by Knut! He’s gonna get famous for that poke-check of his, we saw it last play-offs, and look’s like we’ll be seeing more of it—

Finn wanted to be there to scoop the puck up from Leo’s waiting stick, clear of the blue paint. He wanted to feel Leo at his back, defending him, letting him risk a more risky pass.

The clock had to be dangerously low now and Finn’s head ached with how he was squeezing his eyes shut, but he couldn’t help it. He was so tired.

Knocked away by Knut, hard shot by Trouba—

“Good.” Finn whispered, thumb nail between his teeth. “Good, Le…”

What a take away by Black and he’s going—Lupin catches up with him and it’s two on one, Black and Lupin against Luke Deveaux—Black sends it over to Lupin, Lupin back to Black, and a third time—GOAL! Goal! Goal!

Finn shouted. There weren’t any words in it, but a sheer sound of relief and joy.

Lupin with the hat trick! Hat trick! With twelve seconds on the clock! Twelve seconds! Three goals all scored within—Jesus, how long?—that’s insane, that is just magnificent, insane—

~

Remus heard the crowd. Deep, collective—for a split second, he thought they were booing. But then he pieced it together, right as Sirius slammed into his chest and shouted right in his ear. Not boos.

Loops. 

~

My God, Remus Lupin is on fire tonight. God, what a shot! What a shot, this place is going wild. This place is on its feet because the Lions are going to a game seven. I repeat, the Gryffindor Lions are taking the New York Rangers to a game seven—

~

Long, drawn out, Loops and then reorganizing into a chant, and then dissolving into cheers. Hats showered them. Completely, it felt like. Raining, pouring, drenching the ice in hats. So many Remus wondered how all of them made it to the ice. He couldn’t stop laughing. He thought maybe he was crying a little.

“Game winner!” Thomas was shouting. “Game fucking winner, fucking winner, fucking natty hatty, oh fuck, Remus!”

“Jesus, what’s in your water, Lupin!” Percy Marshall shouted from near Saint’s goal.

He just looked up at Sirius. Sirius laughed and then ducked down and kissed Remus’ cheek—or tried, but it was really just their visors knocking together. “I love you. I love you, love you, I love you so much—”

“Julian,” Remus said. “You think Jules saw?”

Sirius just pressed their visors together, while Thomas all but crowed to the sky. “Yeah, baby, Jules saw.”

Remus looked up towards the Lions box as he skated towards the bench, as he skated down the line tapping gloves. He couldn’t see much, but he would have been able to pick out that wildly jumping figure any place, any time.

~

Logan went looking for Cassie. He wouldn’t deny it. He smoothed his wet hair back from his face and tugged at his tie. He smiled shakily at a few members of the press who passed him on their way to the pressroom to write their stories. Post-game interviews had been rough. You guys could have had it, what will you do differently to pull through next game?

It was a fairly normal question. Definitely expected. The hard part, Logan guessed, was answering it truthfully—even to himself. Pulling through meant taking the Lions out, and Logan couldn’t think about that too hard.

But even worse: You seemed to have…bad puck luck when Knut came into goal. What do you think happened?

Logan could have punched the guy who asked that. He’d stared at him hard enough to make him take a step back anyway.

“Tremzy!”

Logan turned fast. Katie, flying towards him full-force, in Rangers blue with TREMBLAY on her back. Pascal had sent him the video—Katie bawling her eyes out and refusing to move until the removed her father’s jersey and gave her a Tremblay one.

Pascal wasn’t too far behind her and grinned as Logan caught Katie up in his arms.

“Salut, Petit. Oh, what are you wearing?” Logan propped her on his hip and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Is that all for me?”

She patted his tie. “You didn’t win. Papa won.”

“C’est une tragédie, apparently,” Pascal said. “We cannot go home until she finds you, you know.”

“Non, me neither.” Logan smiled at him and tilted his and Katie’s heads together. He switched to French. “I need my little cabbage fix before dinner…”

Katie shrieked out a laugh, knowing what was coming, and Logan dipped her upside down to kiss her cheek with nom noises before bringing her upright again.

“Didn’t you like the Lions hat trick? All the hats on the ice.”

Katie shook her head, brandishing the wrist with her charm bracelet at him like a sword. “Non. I like when you get goals.”

“Ouch,” Pascal said wryly.

Katie put a hand on top of Logan’s head. “Is Harzy okay?”

“Ouais,” Logan said. “He’s doing much better. He misses you.”

“Where’s Leo?”

“I’m going to find him right now.”

She squished Logan’s cheeks between her small palms. “Does he have banana bread?”

“Not with him, I don’t think.”

Katie frowned. “Oh.” Then, she promptly squeezed her arms around his neck and put her head on his shoulder. “I love you.”

“Aw,” Logan said. “I love you, too.”

Pascal mouthed, she’s going to fall asleep, and Logan nodded, half-sure that she already was. He put a hand on her back. She was so warm, so delicate in his arms. He used to be afraid of that, holding onto her too hard. “Past your bedtime, hm?”

They stood silently in the hallway together for a moment. Logan thought of the warm living room at the Dumais house. The boys muting their video game on the TV. Katie sleeping against his chest. Noelle passing him embroidery floss colors to pick out so she could make him a bracelet.

“I don’t think I’ll get used to seeing you in blue,” Pascal said softly, stroking back Katie’s hair, then, after a moment of hesitation, mussing Logan’s gently.

“Me neither,” Logan replied roughly. God, how many homes could one person be homesick for at once?

“No matter what happens next game,” Pascal said. “We love you. You know that, right?”

“Ouais.”

“You won’t beat yourself up.”

“Non.” He sighed. “Well, not too bad. I’m worried about Leo.” He sighed. He had to tell someone. “It’s been hard. This, Finn, Kasey…”

“Archer,” Pascal finished hesitantly.

“Logan?” said a voice.

Logan looked to see Cassie at the other end of the hallway. She gave him a small wave, looking uncertain as to whether she should approach or not.

“Ah,” Pascal said. “I thought you knew her.”

“Quoi.” He smiled back at her, held up a finger. One second.

“You looked, ah, how did Sirius put it…Freaked.”

“I’m not.”

“Here,” Pascal said, reaching out for Katie.

“Wait, wait, wait—” Logan began to say, but Pascal just arched a brow.

“You do not need to hold my daughter for every tough conversation you have.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but eased the sleepy Katie into her father’s arms.

“Go talk to a girl. That can’t be too difficult for you.”

“Dumo.”

Pascal just smiled. “Oh, and guess what?”

Logan sighed. His arms felt cold and too light without Katie in them. “What?”

“Leo is going to be okay. You three are going to be fine.”

Pascal touched Logan’s cheek briefly, then turned away, murmuring softly to Katie.

~

“Remus!”

Remus dropped everything he was holding—his glove, a roll of tape, a tennis ball, and his mouth guard—to turn around and get a stumble-inducing hug by his little brother.

“Did you get any of the hats!” Julian asked. “Oh my God!”

“I think they’re in a bunch of buckets somewhere,” Remus said, and held on tighter even when Jules made to pull back. “No, one more second.”

“I have to see Sirius, too!”

“He didn’t get a hat trick.” Remus squeezed Julian until he gasped for air.

“Death by hug,” Julian coughed out, but he squeezed Remus just as tightly back. “It was so cool, Re.”

“Thanks. It felt pretty cool.” He put his hands on Julian’s shoulders and pulled back. “I can get you a hat if you want a hat. Can’t promise to know whose head it was on, though.”

Julian laughed. “I don’t need a hat.” Remus still sort of wanted to get him a hat. He wanted to get Julian anything he could ever possibly want.

Julian shook Remus lightly by his shoulder pads. “Game seven! Did you always think you were going to go to a game seven!”

Remus shrugged, patting his stall for Julian to sit in. “I don’t know if Captain Superstitious over here would have allowed such a thought to cross my mind.”

“Wow,” Sirius said, stripping off his chest pads and grabbing his towel for a shower. “You make me sound insane.”

Julian and Remus shared a look.

“You might be a little.” Julian pinched his fingers. “Tiny bit insane.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, but tussled Julian’s hair before walking away.

“Hey.” Remus nudged his his foot against Julian’s shin. “You okay here for a second if I shower so we can all get some ice cream before it’s after midnight?”

Julian’s eyes lit up—either at the mention of ice cream or at the prospect of being left to his own devices in the locker room.

“Oh, I’ve got him,” Thomas said. He was wearing his suit pants and shrugging on a white button down. “Noelle chose to go see the Rangers so I, too, am abandoned.”

“Oh my God,” Jackson said from beside him. “She said she’d be back in two minutes after seeing her loser brother.”

“Watch it,” Leo called, passing by.

“Two whole minutes.” Thomas tisked. “Nado, I don’t know what to do with myself without that girl around anymore. Copy?”

“Good luck,” Remus said to Julian, and stripped off his own padding to head to the showers.

James was singing—horribly—but Sirius had secured them the two corner showers. Remus’ favorite. The hot water felt good, but Sirius’ gaze on him felt better. Remus smiled as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to wash his hair.

“I can feel you thinking,” Remus said.

“If we were alone, you could feel—”

“Oh I’m sure.”

“Well, I was thinking about taking you into another private corner but your little brother was looking at me.”

Remus reached for the shampoo. “This is true.” He looked over his shoulder. “I don’t see him anywhere now.”

Sirius sent a pointed look at James and the few other of their teammates showering around them.

“What?” Remus said with a grin. “I just want a kiss.”

Sirius watched him for a moment, and Remus let himself admire the way the water made his dark hair and eyelashes ever darker. The way the droplets made his tan skin shine. Finally, Sirius went so far as to settle a hand on Remus’ bare, wet hip, and kissed his cheek.

“I love you,” Sirius whispered against Remus’ skin.

“I love you, too.”

“The noodles!” Evgeni shouted, ducking beneath a shower head across the room.

“He means canoodle,” Jackson said.

Sirius ignored them. “I want to re-watch that game.”

“Is that all?”

“No. It’ll never be all with you. I’ll always want you more.” Another soft kiss to his temple. “And more, and more.”

~

“You fucker,” Alex said into his phone, wedged between his shoulder and ear as he tied his dress shoes.

“Ha-ha,” Finn replied. “It was all me.”

“Oh, we’ll get your boys next game.” Alex said.

“Will you now?” Finn said. “You sure about that?”

“Pretty damn sure, I’d say. Lupin can’t be that hot every night.”

“Ha, but Sirius Black can.”

“Bleh.” Alex straighten with a sigh. “I hate how true that is.”

“Hey, Al?”

Alex took his phone, switching ears. “Yup?”

There was a bit of a pause, long enough that Alex looked at the screen to make sure that Finn was still there. It made him nearly miss his first couple words.

“If you can,” Finn’s voice said. “Try not to let Lo take any winning shots against Leo.”

Alex’s smile dimmed. His eyes moved over to Kasey, who was leaning against the wall through the locker room doorway with Natalie, waiting for him. She said something with a smile and he nodded in his soft way, playing with the diamond ring on her finger.

“It’ll hurt them both, I think,” Finn finished softly. “Maybe ask Deveaux, too. If you can.”

“I don’t know if I can help that, Finn,” Alex said.

“I know.” Finn’s sigh crackled like wind. “I know. Yeah, I know.”

“Hey,” Alex said. “But I love you, little Fish.”

There was a beat of silence. “All right, I’ll let that slide just this once.”

Alex smiled.

“Love you, too.”

~

“Hi,” Cassie said.

Logan’s words got stuck for a second.

She had taken her suit jacket off and her white shirt underneath was crisp and clean. Logan remembered her in low tank-tops and knee-high boots. His Harvard sweatshirts and tiny cotton shorts, stretching in his bed and going to his window to check if it was raining. Yes, he had loved Finn for most of their time together, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t appreciated Cassie. She was kind and fun and, God, had she ever taught him what he liked. She had been a little wild like that. He had a flash of a steamed up car window, her uneven breathing against his cheek, her hand fisting the hair at the back of his neck.

“I…hi.”

She smiled, then shrugged and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hi.”

He laughed. “Hi.” She felt the same and he automatically squeezed her waist like he used to. “I—sorry about—I mean on the bench.” They pulled apart. “I was—I wasn’t expecting—”

“No, that’s so on me, I didn’t give you, like, any warning. This is kind of a new promotion for me. I mean, not kind of.” She rolled her eyes, laughing. “It is.”

“Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

“Well—wow, I have to tell Finn.”

“Oh, Finn. I always adored him.”

“He’s good. Uh and, oh, Will and Percy are here, did you…”

“Saw them on the bench, but haven’t gotten to say hi yet.” She tilted her head, teasing. “Didn’t think I was just waiting for you, did you?”

Logan laughed. “Uh, non, definitely not.”

“But it is really good to see you. Really, really good. Seriously, though, is Finn doing okay? That was really hard footage to watch.”

Try being there. “Yeah. He’s—he’s better. He’s getting better. He might be at the next game in New York, if he gets cleared. Not dressed, but, still. Not having to sit in the dark.”

“Right.” Cassie nodded sympathetically. “God, that happened to him in college, didn’t it?”

Twice. Logan nodded. He didn’t expect her to remember. They’d been broken up by the second.

“Well, then I hope I get to say hi.”

Logan wasn’t sure how to talk about Finn with Cassie. She’d broken up with him over Finn, even though she hadn’t known it was Finn at the time. She’d thought it was another girl, just someone else taking up Logan’s attention. By the conflicted look on her face, it looked like she knew now.

“Um.” Cassie tucked her hair behind her ears then crossed her arms. “Listen. This is probably not the time and definitely not the place but I’m not sure—I kind of just have to say this if you don’t mind.” She glanced down the hallway, but they were alone. “I think I was kind of…I know I was hard on you when we broke up…”

Logan shook his head. He swallowed, trying to force the words out quickly. “Non. Non, I don’t think you were hard on me. If anyone was hard on someone, it was me on you. I mean…now you know that…that Finn and I?”

“Were you together then?” she asked, then her eyes widened. “God. No. Jesus, you don’t have to tell me that. That was so rude, wow. I’m sorry.” She laughed a little. “We don’t see each other for years and—”

“We weren’t,” Logan said, but then it was his turn to laugh a bit. “Well—Merde. I mean. We were… We loved each other then. But we…” How to even say it? “We thought we couldn’t.” No, that wasn’t it. “I thought we couldn’t.”

“You seriously don’t owe me an explanation,” Cassie said. “Logan, I was trying to apologize. The second I heard about you and Finn—I mean, I think I just saw a photo of you two on Twitter or something, or Instagram?—but I remembered our fight like it was yesterday and…”

“You thought I was cheating on you. And in a lot of ways you were right. You had ever right to be mad at me.”

“I…I know that now. But I loved you, and I shouldn’t have said all those horrible things.” She let out a breath. “I didn’t mean them. It’s just that I really, really loved you.”

Logan wouldn’t have said any of his heart still belonged to Cassie, but right then it felt like part of it might, in some way. It broke all over again for the two of them. For the quiet mornings and for looking up into the bleachers at games and seeing her there, wearing his sweater. For all the times she’d gone quiet and let him think about what he wanted to say, when she was always so bright and sudden for everyone else.

“Anyway,” she sighed. “I just didn’t know when I would see you again and, you know, knock on wood you’ll be too busy celebrating next game, and I wanted to say that I’m sorry. And that I’m happy for you. You and Finn.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Logan said. “I didn’t deserve you. I was trying to figure me out and…and I feel like I used you but, for the record, I did love you, too. Maybe not like you loved me, but.”

Cassie smiled. “Yeah?”

Logan smiled back. “Ouais.”

“Oh.” Cassie shook her head fondly. “God, I missed your French.”

Logan was laughing when he heard Leo’s voice from behind him.

“Lo?”

Logan turned and found him standing there, handsome in his navy suit. He looked between them hesitantly.

“Le,” Logan held out a hand to him. “Soleil, this is Cassie. Cas, this is my boyfriend, Leo.”

Cassie smiled, then looked alarmed, then smiled again. “Uh. Wait. Um. I mean, hi.”

“There’s two of them,” Logan said and took Leo’s hand. “Finn. Leo.”

“Two?”

“Two.”

Cassie looked between them for a moment, then shrugged. “Jesus, I can’t even find one. You were so great in the third, Leo, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh,” Leo said, a little dazed. Logan tried not to watch too closely as Leo looked Cassie up and down. “Well, thanks, pleasure to meet you. How do you two…”

Logan squeezed Leo’s fingers. “Cas and I were at school together—we…well, we…”

“Dated,” Cassie finished for him with a grin. “For a little while. But then again, I never got called the sun by this one so who’s counting it really.”

Leo looked down at Logan and Logan was so proud of the happy look in those blue eyes he could have kissed him. “No?”

“Nope,” Cassie said. “But I can see why you do.”

“Casss-ieee,” came Percy’s voice from behind them, and then the thump of him running down the hall. He didn’t even hesitate, not even when it had been years, before scooping her up in a hug. She shrieked, but let him spin her once and press a kiss to her cheek.

“Oh my God, will you not ever grow up Percy Marshall?”

Percy just grinned at her. His suit was wrinkled, as usual, and he towered over her, but he looked down at her smile like he was looking up to the blue sky. “Not a chance, Cassie Baker. Not with you to impress.”

“It’s been too long since I’ve been subjected to your flirting.”

“Well.” Percy released her and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Who knows. Maybe I really mean it this time.”

Logan felt Leo nudged him, hip against hip, and Logan leaned his head against his shoulder.

“Home?” Leo whispered.

“Ouais.”

Logan thwacked Percy upside the head as they passed by. “See you next game, Cas?”

“Count on it,” Cassie called, and when she wasn’t looking, Percy mouthed Cassie fucking Baker to him over her shoulder with a lovesick expression on his face.

“So, you dated her,” Leo said. He was trying very hard not to smile.

“Oasis,” Logan said. “But…” He reached up as they walked and traced a blond wave of Leo’s hair, then the gray streak. “I was obviously looking for you.”

“You know Hannah looks just like you, right?”

“What? Non.”

Leo laughed. “Logan Tremblay. Look alive, hot stuff—oh.” Leo’s phone pinged. “Gee, wonder who that could be.”

Please come home I talking to myself (sent with Siri)

Also the doctor is emailed I clear for traveled with to you so New York! Sirius send happy emoji no smile emoji no send smile (sent with Siri)

Leo snorted, Logan let out a loud laugh, then they had to take a minute, leaning against each other with silent laughter.

“What’s wrong with you two?” Remus asked as he passed by with Sirius and Julian.

“Sirius,” Logan gasped. “Send smile emoji.”

Leo crouched, hiding his face against Logan’s hip as his shoulders shook.

Sirius just shook his head and tugged on Remus’ hand. “You need to go home.”

“Send smile emoji!” Logan shouted after him.

Sirius just looked back at him. “What the fuck, Tremz.”

“I’ve got him,” Leo laughed, wrapping an arm around Logan’s shoulder. “C’mon, Harz is talking to himself, we better go save him.”

“He always talks to himself.”

“I don’t think he knows that.”

Leo just hummed in agreement. “She seemed nice.”

“She is,” Logan said.

“This is the girl you mean when you say college girlfriend, right?”

“Mhm,” Logan nodded, and took Leo’s hand again as they walked into the stairwell that led to the parking lot. It smelled like summer. Heat and humidity. Leo stripped off his suit jacket to drive and threw it in the back seat with their bags.

When they were turning the engine on, Logan put a hand over Leo’s. “Le.”

Leo looked up from adjusting his mirrors.

Logan took a breath. He wasn’t sure he actually wanted to talk it all through, but maybe it would get easier. Maybe. And he at least had the short drive home to start. “Want me to tell you about it?” Logan asked softly. “Cassie.”

Leo’s lips parted, surprised. His hair was darker, the ends starting to dry from his own shower. He had taken his tie off, too, and his shirt was open at the neck. Logan reached out and touched the indent of the fleur-de-lis necklace beneath his shirt. It had been passed back and forth between them— Finn had been wearing it for a few days there when he was mostly just sleeping and in pain, but Logan supposed at some point, Finn had slipped it over Leo’s neck again.

“Yeah,” Leo said softly. “I’d like that.”

Logan leaned back in his seat as Leo pulled out of their spot. “I met her my very first night as a Freshman. I didn’t know what I was doing, I didn’t even have bed sheets. I had met Fish, là, twenty minutes maybe before. I scared the hell out of him in our room. But you know that, anyway, Cassie saved me from sitting by myself all night…”

[offside-the-lines]

Am I Ready (To Be Loved) | Nathan MacKinnon

Summary: Nate is not known to be impulsive, especially when it comes to love. So what happens when he gets a crazy idea while hungover the day after the Avalanche Stanley Cup parade. a/n: Happy Holidays folks! My first fic back (on this new blog) is a reworking of a fic I wrote for my Winter Prompt request last year (for @fallinallincurls). Thought I needed to start somewhere. This is obviously set in 2022 because I can't stand the idea of the avs squad being different. It also features some of our fave tropes. Pairing: Nathan McKinnon x Female!OC Words: 8K Warnings: alcohol Requests: Open | Masterlist

Charlotte hated these fancy functions. The schmoozing and the small talk were things that made her feel like she was going to crawl out of her skin. No matter how much she would normally enjoy conversation, this just felt fake. And she knew how ridiculous it was. She worked in media. She was always in front of cameras. She took this job knowing this was a requirement. It doesn’t change the truth that, at her core, she would rather be on the couch watching some TV show on Netflix.

Although this wasn’t the first formal event she’d ever been to, this was the first Colorado Avalanche donors’ function. It didn’t help that she had only been working as a correspondent for Altitude TV for a few months; so many knew her name and her face, but no one really knew her personally. So, it was just smile, small talk, comment on the Avs, rinse and repeat.

After an hour or so of this, she was feeling done. Heading to the bar for a drink and found a cocktail table in the corner of the room, tucked near the obscenely large Christmas Tree, where she could just stand and watch. Charlotte looked around the room and wondered how long she had to stay before it was not inappropriate to leave.

“Hate these parties too, eh?” a familiar voice rang beside her.

Despite her shattered solitude, the voice brought out a smile on her face. “What do you mean? I don’t hate this?” she replied, not putting in much effort to hide the sarcasm in her voice. She turned to face the voice and the sight almost startled her a little as she felt her face warm. There stood Nathan Mackinnon in his perfectly tailored navy suit, eyes shining in the dim lighting. She takes a drink quickly to distract herself, reminding herself to be a professional.

“Sure,” he chuckled, “hiding in a dark corner isn’t avoiding the party, Charlotte.”

She shrugs as she turns her eyes back to the party.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers in her ear, making her neck tingle a little, “I really don’t like these parties either. I would rather be at home on the couch with my dog watching TV.”

As he leaned back to sip his drink, she turned to him in surprise. “Oh yeah? Like what? More hockey tape?”

After a bit of light banter, they find that they have the same favorite show, much to Charlotte’s surprise. In the dim corner of a fancy event, they are quoting their favorite lines to each other, trying their hardest not to burst out laughing, hiding themselves behind their drinks so as to not draw too much attention at such a fancy event. Charlotte’s laughing so hard she snorts a little, causing Nate to look at her in surprise before continuing to laugh even harder, drawing some looks from the donors and teammates closest to them. After a while, when they both finally calm down, she feels herself relax a little.

They stood in a comfortable silence for a few more moments before Nate spoke up again. “You know, Charlotte. You ask me questions all the time, but I don’t think I really know anything about you other than your name and your job title.”

“I mean, I only really ever ask you questions about the game or the team,” she responds.

“Yeah, but I’m sure you already know everything there is to know about me,” he said pointedly, but softly. He had a point; it was her job to know as much about the players as possible.

“Okay, I know about NHL Hockey Player, Avs’ Center, Forward Extraordinaire Nathan “Nate the Dogg” Mackinnon,” she says, flashing her hands in front as if to signal an imaginary banner, “I don’t know Nate “a dude who sits on his couch with his dog watching dumb shows” Mackinnon.”

“Alright, that’s fair,” he responds deep in thought. “Fine, how about we play 20 questions? You ask me a question; I ask you a question.”

“How very high school, Nathan,” she pauses to think about it. She wasn’t really sure how to feel about this new friendship. On the one hand, it is her job to get to know the players. Although, she was pretty sure that the fraternizing was only supposed to be in professional contexts. On the other hand, her heart was beating so hard that she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. And at the end of the day, it was Nathan Mackinnon, and he wanted to get to know her. Besides, she knew that he didn’t really date anyway, so she felt safe that there was one of them keeping their feelings in check. Eventually, she responds with a nod, “Sure.”

“Okay!” He said excitedly, his blue eyes lighting up, “Where are you from? Where did you grow up and go to college and stuff?”

“Nathan, that’s two questions. Should I deduct points from you?”

“There are points now?”

“I’m just kidding.”

And so, they went back and forth getting to know each other, talking animatedly, and laughing heartily, until they got through the 20 questions each. At one point, they had migrated to a table to continue sitting down because Nate noticed she was shifting on her feet from the heels. Charlotte was pretty certain that Nate now knew her better than anyone else in Denver.

Eventually, EJ came over and tapped Nate on the shoulder at which point she looked up and realized that most of his teammates and donors had left and they were a few of the last people remaining in the event space.

“Hey,” EJ smiled at you in his signature toothless way, “good to see you’re having fun, Charlotte.”

“Thanks, EJ,” she smiled back.

“Mac Daddy, you’re kind of my ride home, so… are you ready to leave?” EJ said laughing and looked at Charlotte, “I don’t think I’ve ever had to pull Nathan here away from a party before. He is usually begging me to leave.”

Nate bumped his elbow into EJ, not drawing much of a response, as he quickly looked away from her. She could have sworn his cheeks were turning a little pink, but that could also be the lighting.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s late and I want to be up for morning skate tomorrow, unlike you lazy idiots,” Nathan grumbled standing up.

She stood up too, only now realizing how tired you were. “Yeah, damn, it’s late. Well, I had a great time talking to you Nathan,” sending him a warm smile and a nod, “EJ. See you two later.”

As she started walking away, she heard some whispers behind her before Nate called out, “Hey, Charlotte, you good to get home? I mean, do you need a ride?”

“Oh, um… Actually… Sure. That would be nice. Thanks!”

She saw EJ whisper something in Nate’s ear before he was quickly shoved away. Suddenly feeling awkward, she trailed behind them quietly to Nate’s car. As soon as it was in sight, EJ called shotgun and started making a run for it, slipping a little on the ice, making Charlotte and Nate snort with laughter.

Nate offered a hand to guide her across the slippery ground and opened the car door for her, keeping his hand on her as she climbed in. She directed Nate to her apartment, thanking him and EJ quickly as she left. Once she got into her apartment, Charlotte leaned against the door and just smiled for a bit.

*          *          *

Meanwhile, in the car, EJ was basically yelling at Nate.

“Dude, you dog, what was that?”

“EJ, stop.”

“No, I’m serious. I’ve never seen you talk to someone for that long. Not even Barrie or Sid.”

“She was easy to talk to. And it was a good way to get through the event.”

“Nate, don’t give me that bullshit.” EJ’s voice is rarely serious, but it is now.

“I don’t know what to tell you, dude.” Nate shrugged.

The rest of the ride to EJ’s house is quiet and as Nate pulled into the driveway, EJ finally spoke up again, “Tell me you at least got her number.”

“Shit,” Nate let out under his breath before he could stop himself.

“Oh my god, you idiot. You didn’t get her number.”

Nate let out a groan and tapped his forehead firmly on his steering wheel in frustration. As EJ shook his head, and said his goodbyes, Nate’s head was whirring with thoughts. There was no smooth way to ask for her number now. It’s like he missed an exit on the freeway and there was no way off now. The alcohol and the adrenaline meant he didn’t sleep much that night and, for the first time in a very long time, he didn’t make it to the optional morning skate, much to the surprise of everyone.

The rest of the season flew by as the team soared through the playoffs. Nate kept thinking about ways to ask Charlotte for her number but just couldn’t stop overthinking it and psyching himself out; eventually deciding to table the topic until after the season was over to focus on the Cup. But he reveled in every intermission or postgame interview where they got to talk, or the little conversations they would get to have in the arena or on the plane. Occasionally, he’d even slip in a hug, taking in her perfume, under the guise of celebration.

The gossip had now spread through the group — not surprising since EJ has never once kept a secret — and had been an ongoing chirp for Nate. It didn’t help that at the two galas since, Nate was the first one there excitedly scanning the room, but Charlotte wasn’t at either. He’d learn she was covering the Nuggets or the Rapids those nights and would then leave as early as possible.

It got even harder to not think about her as he neared the end of the season, where every phone call with his mom would eventually turn to his cousin’s wedding in the summer and whether he was going to bring a date. Family weddings were the one time he felt he couldn’t leave early, forcing himself to endure the suffering that was being single in your late twenties and watching people be in love. Not to mention all the comments and questions: wanting gossip, wanting a date, feeling sorry for him.

*          *          *

Charlotte was happy with the casual platonic friendship that she had found with Nate. She always looked forward to talking with him at games because he was always more relaxed with her than the other boys, even occasionally giving her a sweaty hug after a good, exciting win. Her co-workers had made some comments about how unusual it was, but she just chalked it up to them knowing each other better now.

The job kept her busy, busier than anticipated. And it felt like the year had flown by before she found herself at the celebration gala for the newly crowned Stanley Cup Champions. The atmosphere was different from the last event she had been to. That one was for schmoozing. This was only for celebrating. The energy in the room was intoxicating and she had a big smile plastered to her face as soon as she walked in.

Charlotte made her way through the crowd and congratulated everyone she saw and recognized. Eventually, she stumbled into Gabe.

“Congratulations, Gabe!” you yelled.

“Lotteee! Thank you!” he yelled back, pulling her in for a tight hug before spinning her around. He was so drunk, but he did look unbelievably happy. When he finally put her down, he grabbed her by the arm and very dramatically whispered in her ear while pointing, “Nate’s that way.”

She looked at him confused and surprised, but he didn’t let her say anything before not so gently pushing her towards Nate. And she didn’t protest, because when she finally saw him, she felt her heart speed up again. He looked jubilant, swaying slightly with EJ, face pink and hair messy. She had learned over the last month or so that she really liked the way he looked with the playoff beard.

Charlotte wasn’t sure whether to disturb whatever EJ and Nate were doing, but once EJ saw her, he let out a screech so loud she had no choice but to turn toward them. “Charlotte! Lotte! Lott Ness Monster! Come here!” But once you got here, he immediately left, vanishing to leave her standing in front of the very flushed Nathan Mackinnon.

“Hi Nathan, congratulations! Well deserved. It’s been an absolute privilege watching you this season,” she said, unsure what to do as her heart kept racing faster at the way drunk Nate was looking at her.

“Oh, stop with that professional speech and give me a hug,” he slurred, pulling her in tightly.

She chuckled and let herself enjoy the warmth and the firm contours of his body against her before forcing herself to pull away. He only let her get so far, leaving one arm still wrapped around her shoulders.

“It’s nice to see you enjoying yourself at an event like this,” she said softly.

“Well, I had to! You weren’t at the last two of these, so I had to find a way to entertain myself with EJ,” he said, pouting. She had certainly never seen him pout, but she was even more surprised that he noticed and cared.

“Oh! Yeah, I had work. Sorry.”

“I know. Who even cares about the Nuggets.” he mumbled under his breath before throwing his head back and yelling a quick “GO AVS!” that was followed by a loud round of cheers. After a few seconds, he piped up excited again, “Are you enjoying yourself today?”

“Um… I think so! It’s nice to see everyone so happy and energetic.” Her eyes scanned the crowd, smiling until she caught Gabe and EJ staring and pointing at them. Before she had the chance to ask Nate what that was about, he was pulling her towards Mikko on the other side of the room.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of drinks, laughs, and the warm firm feeling of Nate’s arm around her shoulders. With each passing drink, she found herself leaning into it more. She was sure her face was so red that it rivaled JT’s hair. But if the boys noticed, which they were too drunk to notice, they didn’t mention it. And even if they did, she doesn’t remember.

*          *          *

The next morning Nate woke up with the worst hangover of his life. He had collapsed on top of all his sheets fully naked, and so he also woke up with a slight feeling of shame and dread at what he might have done the night before. When he finally reached over to check his phone, it was blowing up with messages.

gabe the babe (INCOMING): dude did nate finally hook up with the lott ness monster

JT (INCOMING): omg nate, you have to tell us if you did

mooseman (INCOMING): he definitely did, did you not see how he literally didn’t stop touching her the whole night

Nate buried his head in his sheets and groaned, trying to rack his brain for memories of himself being an idiot around Charlotte last night. But he was drawing a blank. After minutes, he finally lifted his head again and opened a private text to EJ.

Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): ej, please tell me you remember if I did something stupid last night

EJ (INCOMING): yeah. you did.

Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): FUCK what did I do

EJ (INCOMING): you didn’t take lotte home with you you fucking idiot

Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): what

EJ (INCOMING): you just fucking disappeared in an uber without even saying goodbye. and EYE had to make sure she got home okay

Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): oh, well it could’ve been worse

EJ (INCOMING): HOW

EJ (INCOMING): HOW COULD IT HAVE BEEN WORSE

Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): idk if I did something stupid or said something bad

EJ (INCOMING): dude, you have got to ask her out, you two clearly like each other

Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): i have no idea what you’re talking about. we're just friends. we just work together. like you and me

EJ (INCOMING): YEAH RIGHT DOGG if you were touching me all night like that, we would be having a very different conversation ;)

EJ (INCOMING): please tell me you at least have her number now

Nate paused and thought back to the night before, but it was such a blur he didn’t know. But when he looked in his contacts, her number wasn’t there.

Nate Dogg (OUTGOING): nope

EJ (INCOMING): you are so fucking hopeless. i hope you find a pair at home this summer so you will finally do something about this crush

EJ (INCOMING): or maybe when we come back in the fall, she won’t be so single anymore and it won’t matter

Nate felt his stomach turn and he groaned. The hangover finally hit him but he was typing a sarcastic response when another message interrupted his thought.

Sarah (INCOMING): congrats again bro! are you bringing someone to the wedding?

Nate (OUTGOING): wow, really cutting to the chase this morning.

Nate (OUTGOING): and no.

Sarah (INCOMING): what you’re telling me a stanley cup winner can’t find a date

Nate groaned again and muffled a scream in his pillow. He knew that his sister and mom would not drop this subject from the moment he got home. He knew that they would probably try to set him on dates, or worse introduce him to every single woman at the wedding. He lay there, head on his pillow, for a long time, until finally, he had an absolutely insane idea. An idea that can only come to someone after the happiest day of their life followed by the biggest hangover of their life.

Nate (OUTGOING): fine, I’ll bring someone

Sarah (INCOMING): OH MY GOD WHAT WHO

Sarah (INCOMING): NATHAN RAYMOND MACKINNON IF YOU’VE BEEN DATING SOMEONE THIS WHOLE TIME AND HIDING IT FROM ME, I’LL KILL YOU. I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU’VE WON.

Nate (OUTGOING): nope, not telling

Sarah (INCOMING): you are a child and i hate you

Nate (OUTGOING): I love you. See you soon.

Sarah (INCOMING): URGH

Sarah (INCOMING): Love you too. I’m calling mom.

*          *          *

Charlotte woke up with a splitting headache and the room spinning at 6 am. And despite how horribly she felt, she couldn’t get back to sleep. She could still feel Nate’s arm on her shoulder, and his lips against her ear as he whispered something unintelligible, and the scent of his cologne lingering on her hair would waft into her memory every few seconds making her heart skip. She was absolutely certain that he was more drunk than she was, and that he was a touchy drunk. She felt even a little guilty for taking advantage of his touchiness, getting as much as she could last night.

After a few hours of being unable to get back to sleep, she peeled herself up and drew herself a bath with a cup of tea. She still wasn’t able to stomach food yet, but she felt her body relaxing in the warm water, finally letting Nate slip from her mind. Eventually, she got up and padded around the house thinking about the long summer ahead. It was her first summer with not a lot of work to do, and since it was her first year in Denver, she also didn’t really know many people or have any concrete plans.

She had just sat down at her computer to research ideas when she heard a buzz on her apartment intercom. She looked down at her phone confused, but there were no texts there from the few friends she had made so far.

“Hello?” she stutters cautiously into the intercom.

“Oh my god, thank fuck,” a familiar voice rang back, “it’s you. I’ve been buzzing every apartment and I swear your neighbors think I’m a crazy person.”

“What?”

“Um. Oh. Sorry, Charlotte. It’s Nate.”

She was stunned silent. Stunned and confused.

“Um… Nathan Mackinnon…” He filled the silence nervously, “You know… From the Avalanche.”

That snapped her out of her trance as a laugh bubbled out of her. “Oh my god Nathan, I know who you are. Sorry. I was just confused. How do you know where I live?”

“Um, well when we first met, I dropped you off here. So, I made the gamble that you still lived here and just buzzed every apartment to see.”

“Oh. Wow,” she says, stunned, confused and flattered, “Um, is everything okay?”

“Ah, yeah.” He paused. “You know, I just realized how dumb this was. I’m really sorry to disturb you—”

“No!” she says louder than she intended, “No, Nathan, wait. Let me buzz you up.”

“Oh, okay, yeah! Thanks!”

She paced around her entryway, thoughts racing. The door knocks still startled her, and as she walked over, she looked down at her sweatpants and realized there definitely was no time to change and prayed she looked okay.

“Hi, Nathan,” she smiled, opening the door, “Um, do you want to come in?”

“Oh, sure,” he hesitates and makes a gesture to hug her before chickening out, pulling away and stepping past her.

“So, what brings you to my humble abode today?”

“Your apartment is cute.”

“Thanks. It’s not NHL superstar level, but it’s pretty good to me.”

He chuckles and leans a hip on the kitchen island, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His eyes were firmly trained on the ground. She wasn’t really sure what to say, so she moved behind him to start making them both some tea. He studies her as she moves around and wonders how it’s possible she looks so good in your sweatpants and messy bun when he feels like his entire guts might just drop out of his body.

Eventually, he spoke up, “Um, so I realized I didn’t have your number.”

This made her laugh, a proper belly laugh. “What,” she manages to get out, “you came all the way here because you don’t have my number.”

“Well…” he hesitates, “Yeah. I mean, I never asked for it I guess.”

“Okay, do you want it now?” she was still laughing.

“Um, yes?” He was shifting on his feet, rubbing his neck with his hand, leaning awkwardly on the countertop.

“Okay,” she reached a hand out.

He looks at her confused and gives it a slap.

“That was for your phone, silly. Not for a five,” she was laughing even harder now. And his cheeks turned bright red as he handed her his phone, not meeting her eyes. She passes the phone back to him along with a cup of tea, “There you go. So… What was the huge rush? You could’ve emailed me or something for it.”

He paused and laughed, “Honestly, I didn’t even think of that. I guess my brain doesn’t work very well when I’m hungover.”

Charlotte took a seat next to him on the kitchen island as they sipped their teas.

After a few minutes, he clears his throat. “Actually, that’s not why I came over. I mean it, but it isn’t the main reason.”

“Okay?” she encouraged.

“I had a really stupid idea and it was stupid at the time, but now I’m here it’s even dumber. So, I’ll just settle for the number.”

“Okay, Nathan, you can’t just say something that cryptic and not tell me.”

His face went bright red again and he shuffled in place. “No, it’s okay.”

“Okay, no. You don’t get to interrupt my hangover recovery and not tell me why.”

He sighed and looked away. After a while, he mumbled under his breath very quickly, “Fine. Icameheretoaskyouifyou’dcometomycousin’swedding.”

“What?” she said, not sure if she misinterpreted the mumbles or if she was dreaming.

“Um… Well, my cousin, back in Nova Scotia, is getting married in a few weeks. And my mom and sister keep bothering me to bring someone. And I just had this stupid idea. Because you’re the only person I’ve had fun with at those big events. So, this morning, in my post-Stanley Cup alcohol delirium I thought Hey, I should ask Charlotte if she wants to help me survive a social event and get my parents off my ass about not having a date? So here I am. But obviously, that was insane. So don’t worry about it.”

Charlotte looked at him, mouth open, in shock for longer than acceptable, and felt her own cheeks redden. A little lightheaded, before she could really stop to think, she responded, “Sure! I mean why not? What’s the harm in me going? I don’t have any plans.”

His head snapped up to meet her eyes for the first time in a few minutes and Charlotte is captivated by the way his sharp blues light up in response. It was when she saw the smile take over his face and her heart sped up that she knew this was probably a huge mistake. But a mistake she didn’t want to take back.

*          *          *

“So, how long have you two cuties been dating?” the fifth person in a row asked. Charlotte wasn’t sure if this was an aunt or a family friend, but she forced the smile back on her face as she responded.

“Oh, we’re not dating. We work together, kind of.”

The lady looked between the two of them, and Charlotte could feel the hairs on the back of her neck prickle again as she was acutely aware of Nate’s hand resting on her lower back.

“She’s here as my date, yes, but we aren’t dating. We’re just good friends,” he replies gently but firmly, the same way he had been doing all weekend, before changing the subject.

But she was lost in thought. She had been here for a few days, and she had to admit that Nova Scotia was beautiful, and Nate’s family and friends were wonderful. Despite not knowing Nate super well, she had never felt out of place. He had always made sure she was included in conversations, explaining anything that felt like an inside joke. She thought back to all the times she had met a boyfriend’s family — there hadn’t been that many, but enough to know that this was far better than any of them did.

Nate had been awkward and hesitant at first, jumping away every time he touched her by accident on the plane ride over and flinching when their knuckles brushed when he went to help her grab her luggage. But he slowly allowed himself to loosen up a little, reading her lack of discomfort as a good sign. He always prided himself on acting like a gentleman; even though women complained that he was stiff and unromantic, he tried. He found himself putting in an extra effort to hold open the door for her, to pull out a chair for her, to offer an elbow as she walked on the uneven pavement.

If Nate was in his head about every move he made, Charlotte was ten times more in her head. They had only really spent time together at work and work functions. And she wasn’t sure if that’s why something felt different here, more intimate, or if she was just imagining it. She was starting to feel like he was going out of his way to touch her; laying a hand on her knee when they were sitting next to each other, tapping her elbow to show her something, keeping a hand on her back when they were standing.

She had tried her hardest not to lean into his touch every time, but she couldn’t deny the comfort his large hand on her back felt—god, was his hand always this large. It was never too low as to be intrusive; just resting chastely on her mid back to remind her that he was there and was ready to take a break from the socializing at any point.

Whether she was imagining it or not, it was starting to drive her insane. Her skin constantly felt buzzing and hot, tingling in the places he touched, electrified in the places closest to him that craved his touch.

Nate’s low voice in her ear startled her out of her thoughts.

“Hmm?” she responded as she felt her neck and ear flush with the brush of his lips on her ear.

“Oh, I was just asking if you want to go for a walk,” he murmured, “you’re looking a little overwhelmed.”

“Yeah, sure,” she breathed, her voice coming out a little shaky with how close his tall frame was to her.

And so, she reached out and took his extended elbow as they slipped out of the rehearsal dinner and wandered down to the waterfront in silence.

“I can totally see why you love it here,” she finally said.

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“It’s beautiful. The water. With the lights reflecting. And all the beautiful trees. And the fresh air. I can understand why you love coming here in the summer.”

“Yeah, it’s truly something,” he looked over at her with an unreadable expression on his face, but his eyes were warm and soft. It looked like he wanted to say something for a second before he shook his head and looked away. “I’m glad you came with me. You make these big events bearable.”

“Just bearable, Nathan?” she laughed, trying to break the tension in the air she couldn’t really explain. And his chuckles were quick to join hers in the warm summer air.

And just like that, they fell into a comfortable rhythm again, laughing and chatting. Eventually, he walked her back to the hotel and their adjoining rooms.

“Well, here you go, m’lady,” he joked, letting his arm fall from her for the first time in a while. He began to turn towards his room but hesitated for a second before turning back and pulling her into a tight hug. She let herself melt into the hug, embracing the warm buzzing feeling in her chest as she felt his larger frame engulf her. He didn’t let go when she thought he was going to, instead whispering in her ear, “Thank you.”

“Thank me for what, Nathan?”

“For coming with me. For being so good with my family, even though they keep asking intrusive questions. For just being you,” he said, pulling back. They were standing so close together that she could see every shade of blue in his eyes as they looked at her intently. She swore she saw his eyes flicker to her lips briefly before the smallest sharp intake of breath he tried to hide as he untangled from her. She could feel her body ache a little as her cheeks burned.

She didn’t know if it was the glasses of wine or the dizzying tension, but before she could stop herself, she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Of course, Nathan,” she murmured, “good night.” She smiled as she turned away and opened her hotel room door as quickly as possible.

She didn’t dare to take a peek back at him, but if she had, she would have seen his eyes wide, and cheeks flushed in shock. Instead, she quickly ducked into the room, shutting the door behind her, leaning back against the cold wood, and closing her eyes. What the fuck am I doing, she said to herself, Nate is a sweet guy, who I work with. I’m just doing him a favor. And he clearly thinks I’m just a good friend, as he keeps saying to everyone. Get it together.

She walked away and started getting ready for bed. It took her a long time to fall asleep that night, tossing and turning as her mind raced through the moments of the day, all the little touches and glances and the sparkle in Nate’s blue eyes.

 *         *          *

The following day was the wedding, and the morning passed comfortably despite neither of them acknowledging the moment they both wanted to talk about so badly. Soon, she found herself sitting beside him in the church, watching the beautiful bride stand next to her adoring groom.

While the ceremony went on, Nate was having a hard time staying out of his thoughts as the celebrant talked about love and marriage and as the happy couple exchanged adoring words with each other. It was not that he hated weddings, not at all; in fact, he loved them. He loved the celebration and the emotion. But as the years went on, it became a stunning reminder of what he did not have. With every wedding and every failed relationship in between, he felt more alone, like maybe something was wrong with him.

Charlotte noticed that Nate seemed emotional, lost in his thoughts. She had no idea what was going through his mind, but she could sense that he was troubled. At some point during the ceremony, when Nate found himself particularly emotional, he had reached his hand over and grasped hers. She had to try hard to hold back the small gasp that threatened to escape her lips. But seeing his troubled expression, she squeezed his hand. And, inexplicably to her, his hand never left hers, not during the rest of the ceremony, or the walk over to the cocktail hour space. He only reluctantly let go to help her to her seat once they got to the reception.

Although they both enjoyed the reception food, they had both been so deep in their own thoughts that their conversation with the table was stilted and almost awkward. Eventually, as the night wore on, and the gentle fuzz of liquor started to take over, they both started to relax. Nate, after starting and stopping for almost 15 minutes, finally asked her to dance; his heart rate racing as she excitedly nodded yes.

Which is how they found themselves on the dancefloor for over an hour. At first, it was awkward. They were standing a foot apart, dancing independently; she, laughing at Nate’s horrible dance moves, and Nate, feeling electrified by the way her body moved. Eventually, they got closer and closer together until they were swaying in each other’s arms to some horrible Mariah Carey song, making snide remarks in each other’s ears and not caring how obnoxiously loud they were laughing at the jokes.

A few drinks later, their inhibitions were lowered enough that she found herself with her back against him. His arms wrapped firmly around her waist as she leaned into his warm, towering figure. Both of them were no longer sure if they were intoxicated by each other or the drinks, but they did not really care. After they were grinding to a Doja Cat song, she swore she felt something press against her back, but she was not sure as Nate swiftly excused himself to use the bathroom.

And that’s how she found herself at the bar by herself.

“Nate really likes you, you know?” she heard a voice say beside her. When she looked over, she saw his mom giving her a knowing glance.

“Oh, Mrs. Mackinnon, we’re just friends,” Charlotte managed to choke out, despite feeling her throat tighten.

“I know, sweetie, but that doesn’t mean there can’t be more there,” she smiled, laying a soft hand on her forearm. She had never felt herself sober up faster.

“I appreciate that, but we do work together,” she strained.

“Please, call me Kathy,” she continued, not acknowledging Charlotte’s weak protest. And when she did not respond, Kathy added, “You know, I’ve met a number of his girlfriends, and he had never looked at them the way he looks at you. Or even treated them the same way. He’s barely left your side since you got here.”

“Kathy, I’m sure that’s not true. You have raised an amazing son. I’m sure he is just as kind to anyone.” She could feel her cheeks feel heat as she started scanning the room, desperate for Nate’s return.

“Sweetheart,” Kathy spoke softly, “I have been married for many years. There is only one reason a person looks at someone the way he looks at you, and that’s love. If you feel the same way, you should tell him. Don’t stand in the way of your own happiness, dear. Life is too short.”

She smiled as her husband came to stand next to her; and before Charlotte could protest again, she gave her a gentle hug before walking away, leaving her standing there with her head spinning at her words.

Charlotte gripped the edge of the bar and downed her drink in one go once the bartender handed it to her, earning an eyebrow raise. She jumped and let out a little squeak when she felt a warm hand press into her back.

“Woah, it’s just me,” Nate joked before he met her eyes and his brows furrowed, “are you okay?”

“Um, yeah,” she croaked out stiffly.

“Are you sure?” he stepped in closer which only made her stiffen more, “You seem… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable?”

“What?” she tried to say calmly, although it came out an octave too high, “What makes you say that? Nope. I’m fine.”

He furrowed his brow more and leaned back, confused, before removing his hand from her back and stuffing them in his pockets. There was a twinge of sadness in his eye as he looked around, unsure what to do. “Okay, then. Do you want to go back on the dance floor? Or I guess not. We could sit back at our table?”

“Yeah,” she said awkwardly, finding a normal tone again, “Table sounds good.”

They sat in silence for a bit, just watching the other guests dancing, both deep in thought. She was stuck thinking about what Nate’s mom had said. If she thought about it, she could totally understand why an outside observer would see their relationship as something more than friends. But if Nate had feelings for her, why did he so insistently refer to her as his “good friend”? And even if he did like her, she wasn’t sure about the implications for her job. Was she going to get fired? Probably not, if she was upfront with HR. But she was new to the city and relatively new to the field. What if people started to see her as the girl who ‘goes for the stars’ or the girl who’s ‘just here to get in some rich athlete’s pants’. She had worked too hard not to be taken seriously now. And maybe if things worked out, it would eventually blow over. But if it didn’t work out… If it didn’t work out, she wasn’t sure what would happen, but she felt it would be bad.

Meanwhile, Nate was panicking; combing through every moment of the evening, trying to find where things went wrong. He was finally feeling like he had an idea of how she felt. Like maybe if he told her his feelings, she would reciprocate. Did he go too far with the dancing? Was Drunk Nate too caught up in the moment and did something inappropriate and unwanted? Nate was never much of a verbal processor — he preferred to stew on things first, —  and maybe it was the remnants of the alcohol lingering in his system but he felt the words trying to bubble up in his chest. He didn’t even know what the words would be; maybe words to explain how he felt about her, to make sure he didn’t do something wrong, to make sure she was okay.

When she finally felt the grip on her chest loosen and the thoughts begin to slow a little, she snuck a quick glance at Nate. His jaw was set firm, and brows furrowed. He was staring into the crowd on the dancefloor, but he was clearly not watching them. He looked tense, and she could see the panic she felt reflected on his face. She found herself reaching out and taking his hand in hers, giving it a squeeze; a move that clearly surprised him as he jumped a little before smiling and relaxing into it.

“Nate, I’m actually getting kind of tired. I’m thinking of heading back to the room. Did you want to stay longer?” she said gently.

He squeezed her hand back and gave her a small smile, although the worry hadn’t left the contours of his face yet, “No, I’m actually ready to head back too. Come on.” He pulled her onto her feet.

They took the ten-minute walk back to the hotel in relative silence, tethered together by their interlocked hands. Nate spent the whole walk back planning his speech; he was going to tell her how he felt because he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Holding hands with her just felt so right. But for her, despite how nice it felt, it caused an overwhelming sense of panic to rush back through her. It was nice. It was too nice. It was going to ruin everything.

Stepping out of the elevator, the words escaped her lips before she had the chance to hold them back. “Nate, I think this was a mistake,” her voice was barely above a whisper. He froze beside her and managed to choke out a “What?”

“Nate,” she said, pulling her hand away from him and backing towards her door, “This is giving me a taste of what I can’t have. And this friendship… I don’t think I can do this.”

“What are you talking about?” he replied, still stuck in the spot where she left him, his voice louder than he had intended.

“The touching, the holding hands, the being sweet… It’s too much,” she said, unlocking the door, not meeting his eyes.

“What—” he repeated, his voice cracking at the end. Her mind didn’t process that the pain she felt was echoed in his voice.

She sighed, stepping into the doorway, “I can’t do this, Nate. Because if we keep doing this, I’m going to fall in love with you. And I can’t do that while being your ‘good friend from work’. So, I’m going to bed. Good night.” She finally met his eye as she stepped back to shut the door, barely registering the way his face flickered from hurt to confusion to shock to hope.

Charlotte rested her forehead against the door and let out a shaky breath. She could feel the tears form and slide down her face. She tried to convince herself that it was the right move, but the only thing she could hear in her head was the sound of Nate’s mother’s voice saying ‘Don’t stand in the way of your own happiness, dear. Life is too short.’ What if Kathy was right? What if protecting herself from pain was causing more pain itself? What if it would work out? As she stood there, she listened for movement on the other side of the door, but she heard none. Was that hope she saw in his face there? If it was, what did it mean?

Before she could finish the thought, she heard shuffles and a rapid knock on the door that startled her. She didn’t know why, but she opened it without hesitation.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I did something earlier that made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry if I'm crossing a boundary now but I would never forgive myself if I didn't say this," he said, looking at her with concern. When she nodded, he continued speaking.

He confessed to her that he had never been this person before, love-struck and irrational. He had always been calm, detached, and calculated, but with her, he couldn't help it. He couldn't help being rash, like inviting her to the wedding or reaching out to touch her and be close to her.

She had told him that she couldn't do this because she was scared of falling in love with him, but he revealed that he might already be in love with her. He had been saying that she was just a friend and a colleague because he was scared, but he had never felt this way before and was afraid he would mess it up.

During the wedding ceremony, he looked around at everyone and realized that he had won the Stanley Cup this year, but he still felt off. He kept thinking about her - how her laughter made him want to make her laugh again, how her smile warmed his chest, and how he could still feel the tingle where their skin had touched even after she left.

He admitted that he had never been sure if he had truly been in love before, and maybe this was it. He thought they owed it to themselves to find out because he believed she might feel the same way. He knew it might not be the most rational decision, but it was everything he had to say.

Feeling a shaky breath escape her lips, she heard the voice in her mind, "Don't stand in the way of your own happiness, dear. Life is too short." For the first time on this trip, she felt her mind still and smiled as she closed the distance between them. With her chest pressed to him, she looked up at him, admiring his soft and nervous blue eyes. She reached up to cup his neck and met him in a kiss.

The kiss was gentle and soft at first, as she chastely felt their bodies slot together; his hands finding her waist, and hers fisting his suit jacket to bring him closer. After not long, she felt Nate run his tongue along her lip and she allowed herself to deepen the kiss, conveying the emotion that was hard to put into words. The feeling of his firm hands against her waist and his muscular body against hers again made her feel as though she were on fire. And she had to admit, she liked this quite a lot. Eventually, they disconnected and rested their foreheads together as they took in the moment.

“So, are you going to say something?” Nate whispered.

 “Yeah, uh, ditto,” she whispered back, giggling slightly.

“That’s it?!” he leaned back in mock horror, “After I poured my heart out, that’s all you have to say?” She could see a smile tugging at his lips.

“Well, I think for the first time in your life, you have spoken enough words for both of us, Nathan,” she laughed as she gave his chin a little pinch, drawing a laugh from him as well. She leaned back in to place another firm kiss on his lips before saying, “I like you a lot too. Like a lot a lot. It scares me. But, as the kids say, you only live once, and I need to stop being scared and just see where this goes because I think I might be in love with you, Nathan, and I need to find out if I am.”

He smiled broadly; it’s the smile she loves, the one where his nose scrunches a little and she can see the genuine happiness on his face. And as their lips rejoined, she slowly started to pull him back into her hotel room.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” he says, disconnecting their lips briefly.

“Uh, right now? Sure, I guess,” she raised her eyebrow.

“Why do you always call me Nathan? Everyone always calls me Nate.” The question catches her off-guard and she laughed as she continued dragging him into your room.

“I was trying to remind myself to stay professional and not fall for you,” she laughed as she felt the back of her legs hit the edge of the bed.

“Right…That worked so well, I’ll have to remember that one for the future, Miss Charlotte,” he laughed back before kissing her again so deeply and passionately that she forgot whatever retort was on the tip of her tongue.

[tea-moon-ster]

Courage, dear heart

hello! have some Kasey/Alex angst set during SW. that ginger took rainbow tape out at All Stars and you can't tell me Kasey didn't have a little crisis when he saw. read it on ao3 here. all characters belong to @lumosinlove.

The night of All Stars, Kasey’s brain switched off the moment he saw Alex skate around with rainbow tape around his stick, opening a line of colorful players behind him. And it was unfortunate, because it happened right at the beginning of the night. Kasey hadn’t thought about much else for the few hours spent at Remus’ place, only offering vague comments every now and then. Natalie’s eyes finding his over the Cubs’ heads had been the one thing keeping him at bay.

Then Logan had called his boys, and that’s how they found out. The tape had been Alex’s idea.

Kasey wanted to say something, anything to him. He wrote ten texts or so on his phone, feeling stupidly self-conscious as he erased them all. Hey, Al, nice tape. Hi, loved your idea. Hey, Alex, good gesture. He sighed, wondering how did he always make everything so complicated. And why he’d never had the courage to do something similar.

And now there they were, in Dumo’s backyard, with the Lions’ team and their families surrounding them.

The Lions were going to the finals, and they felt invincible.

The air was electric even outside of the rink, following them everywhere and rising every time they met. Kasey could see it in Thomas’ grin, in the little jumps Finn made any time he was on his feet. Leo told him it was a mixture of things for him. We’re so close, and my parents are here, and I have two boyfriends, can you believe it? Because I can’t. I feel like I could climb the Everest in one morning. Kasey shared that excitement, but he had to admit that it was nowhere near to the thrill of his first seasons in the league. It tasted bitter in his mouth. Most things about hockey did, now. Leo’s sparkling eyes had brought fresh air in hockey, at least for Kasey, and he was glad for it. A little push to go on until he couldn’t.

And Alex was there.

 I wouldn’t miss it, he’d said. How ever it goes. He was standing by a bush with Timmy and Olli, and Kasey couldn’t hear their conversation, but they were laughing and shaking their heads. He never failed to make people laugh.

Kasey saw the moment Alex’s eyes spotted him, leaning against the wall. He watched him excuse himself with a warm smile and one last joke. His eyes followed him to the drinks table, and saw him grab two beers. He came to lean next to him and handed him one without a word.

Kasey took a sip as they watched the sun go down, drawing golden stripes on the surface of the pool. It was still too cold to jump in, but just standing next to it built the vibrant energy of the beginning of summer. Air of anticipation really was everywhere, these days.

Kasey stole a quick glance of Alex.

The same man standing in front of him had convinced half the players at All Stars to wear rainbow tape relying on sheer force of initiative, and a great deal of courage. Even if Kasey had been surprised to see it, he realized, looking back, that there really was no reason for it. Everything about Alex translated into actions, and watching him skate around and wave his hand at the fans with pride tape, he couldn’t see a difference between him and the boy he’d fallen in love with. The boy he’d shared playful glances in the locker room with, that made him laugh loud and messy, with the little snort, and that took him for long walks on the beach every time he played in Florida. Seeing colorful stripes on his stick had moved Kasey more than he cared to admit. What does it mean, and were you thinking of me?

Of course, Natalie had noticed, too. Natalie noticed everything and she was good at not making a big deal out of things. Kasey loved how she’d immediately understood whatever was going on between him and Alex, and how she’d kissed him gently after. It’s okay if you have love for both of us. Gentler than he could ever be with himself.

That night, they’d shared a surprised look as everyone commented the tape and the players, and he’d seen her gaze going from him to Alex-in-the-TV as she tried to figure it out with him. Was it a message? Or simple support? They’d held hands in silent reassurance, wondering what it all meant.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence—Alex was good at those, too- Kasey cleared his throat. He stole a glimpse of the redhead’s golden profile against the setting sun, serene and warm.

“Sick tape,” he blurted out. “At All Stars. Logan said it was your idea.”

Alex’s eyes darted on him, as if looking for something. But it was just for a moment. Then the usual lively grin crept in, for him to relax into.

“Yeah. I thought your captain could use some support, you know?”

Kasey turned to glance at Sirius, standing on the other side of the garden, smiling at something Adele was telling him. Remus was there, holding hands in a newfound sweetness that was delightful to see. Kasey swore it had all seemed impossible until it happened.

“He really did,” he nodded. “I’m glad he had it. It meant a lot.” Kasey stopped before adding to Cap, because they both knew that it wasn’t just that. It meant a lot to me.

Alex nodded, maybe not sure on how to answer. He looked around, and his smile softened when he found the Cubs over the snacks table. Finn had an arm around Leo’s waist, talking a mile a minute, while the other two were looking at him smitten happy. Kasey studied the redhead in front of him as he looked fondly at them.

“And, you know, it wasn’t just for Sirius. For Finn, too. And his boys.” He shook his head, smiling. “You know, Finn called me the morning of All Stars, all excited, saying Alex, big ass news, I’m so happy I’m gonna die, and told me everything.” He took a sip of his beer, eyes returning to Kasey with a raised eyebrow. “Well. I already knew something was up between him and Logan, like, ages ago. I was waiting for him to tell me. And he did, so I felt like I needed to show him that it was okay. On and off the ice.”

Kasey thought back at All Stars night, when eight people had crumpled into Loop’s living room. How Finn had shouted That’s my big brother, and the way his eyes were shining in front of the tv. Kasey had allowed himself to linger on those eyes for a few moments, while everyone else focused on the screen, thinking about the twin pair that Alex bore. He remembered their warmth on his skin, shining like a jewel in the sun. Kasey thought about those eyes a lot.

Bring your eyes on me and I’ll wear your stares like the most precious stones, an old song played in his mind. He didn’t remember the name.

Alex bit his lip, sobering, and those wonderful eyes moved to his shoes. His voice came out lower this time, a vulnerability that people didn’t get to see often.

“And—you know. I had to do it for myself, too.”

Kasey felt a wave of heat rushing to his head, his heartbeat growing faster. He tightened his grip around the beer, only for the icy glass to send shivers down his spine. But Alex looked calm—like he always did.

“I just thought, what’s the point, you know? ‘S not my problem if someone cares.”

He paused for a moment, and everyone else would have thought that he was waiting for a reply from Kasey. But Kasey knew he didn’t. Alex never expected anything from him. And in that moment, Kasey was glad, because he felt petrified.

Alex sent him a small, reassuring smile. Why was he reassuring him and not the opposite, Kasey wasn’t sure.

“I’m not gonna do a big coming out. I’ll just…stop hiding, I guess.”

Then he looked up, and snorted, shaking his head as he’d just told the most amusing joke. He took another sip. Kasey could see his ears blushing as he ripped off a corner of the beer’s label.

“I mean, nothing’s really gonna change, and there’s nothing to hide. But still.”

He said the last words with his usual calm, nonchalant serenity. He threw Kasey a helpless smile, and then returned to watching the people around them as if the conversation had never taken place.

That was what Kasey had never understood. What he’d never comprehended, what he could never do.

How Alex could appear, bright and warm and wonderful, throw a few smiles and jokes around, be what people needed him to be, and then drop bombs like that. Nothing’s really gonna change. There’s nothing to hide. And then he returned to normal, like his own words, his feelings, didn’t matter more than chitchats about the weather.

Kasey just looked at him.

Nothing’s really gonna change.

Alex had never been one for holding back. He’d never been afraid of what he felt, and at the same time he’d never expected anything in return. He just felt, and loved, in his warm and easy way, without taking or holding anything against him.

Kasey was the reason nothing would change. He knew it in his heart.

He knew it every time someone tried to ask Alex about eventual partners, or dates, hookups even, and he just shrugged and smiled. Nothing significant. Not really my thing.

He knew it every time they met or talked on the phone, and Alex inevitably asked about Natalie, but then he’d stay quiet for a bit.

Alex hurt quietly, and Kasey knew, and hurt even more quietly, and none of them would do anything about it.

Alex loved Kasey. He wouldn’t need to come out if it wasn’t Kasey at his side, simply because he didn’t want another man. So, nothing would really change. And the redhead looked like he didn’t mind.

Kasey could swear he was going to go crazy.

Did he know Kasey loved him back? They’d never spoken about it enough for the goalie to understand it, let alone about Nat’s feelings, or their deep conversations about love and guilt and pain the middle of the night. Did he know they watched all his games, traced his helmet on the screen with their fingers? That they whispered his name, like a secret just for the two of them?

Kasey just looked at him, even if it hurt to stare at a soul that didn’t know how to love without hurting. Or how much love and sleepless nights bore his name.

After a moment of silence too long, Alex must have felt Kasey’s stare on him, because he turned, and his smile softened.

“Oh, Kase, don’t look at me like that. I’m fine, really. I just meant…there’s nothing to notice, you know? But it’s fine.”

Kasey looked at him with pleading eyes, even if he didn’t really know what he needed from him. To stop talking, to stop caring, to stop being so nice about it.

Alex sighed, rolling his eyes back, his expression dropping for a second. He took a breath before wearing his smile again.

“Listen, let’s forget it. I just wanna have a good time with my friend, alright? Haven’t hung out in forever, you and I,” he said, nudging their shoulders together. He paused for a second, before taking another sip. “Hey, what are you doing at the end of the month? You know, after you and your team get your hands on that shiny thing.”

Kasey hurriedly looked around for some wood to knock on, but had to settle for the wooden piles under their feet, forming a path to the pool. He gently tapped one with his shoe a few times, ignoring Alex’s disbelieving scoff, and shrugged.

“Dunno,” he said, a small smile returning to his face. “Nothing planned yet.”

Alex grinned. “Well, in that case,” and Kasey rolled his eyes at the old joke, “I have the house at the Hamptons to myself for, huh, a long time. If you wanna come, with Nat of course, I’d be happy to have you two.”

Kasey looked in the crowd by the pool for Natalie, and found her with her feet in the water, talking to Katie as the she moved her tiny feet energetically, sending splashes all around them. The grip in his throat loosened a bit. He nodded.

“I’ll ask her, but you already know the answer.”

“Great,” Alex grinned, leaving a pat on his shoulder. “I’m gonna go grab another beer, want one?”

Try four or five. “I’m good, thanks.”

He returned the smile as Alex walked away, taking away with him a bit of the warmth in Kasey’s body. He let out a sigh, gulping down too much beer at once, and then looked around for a bit. There was something in spring nights that always made tears burn more as they sat stubbornly still at the corner of his eyes.

He glanced at Natalie again, and realized she’d been looking at him for a while, a frown worrying her brows. He bit the inside of his cheek, maintaining eye contact. He didn’t feel like shaking his head and scrolling it off. He didn’t have it in him, not that night. Not after that conversation. And in all honesty, he was tired of dismissing pain like nothing could scrap him.

So, he just shrugged helplessly and made a discrete hand gesture that meant later. She nodded, not fully convinced. Love you, she mouthed. He mouthed it back, and she finally focused on Katie again when he sent her a little smile—more like an imperceptible raise of a corner of the mouth, but she knew him.

He then glanced at the Cubs, still by the snacks table, where Finn was trying to make Logan dance to the rhythm of a low background song. Tremzy looked like he was protesting, but he let the redhead move them, nevertheless. Leo, leaned on the table, was filming them with a smile of his own.

They looked so happy, Kasey thought, glancing back at Natalie, and then searching for Alex, now chatting with Noelle and Thomas.

Kasey looked at the Cubs again, and then at his girlfriend, and then at the man he loved, and decided there was something he could do. Or at least try. He’d talk to Natalie that night, in the quiet comfort of their bedroom. They would figure something out.

Something could change.

.

.

.

[melodythebunny]

New neighbors Au - Wordgirl x Welcome home chapter 2

A few days have passed, being that it was the weekend, there was no school. So the Boxleitner family took time to relax and hang out together. Their parents had yet to come off of work in close to an hour so in the meantime they were trying to figure out what to do.

Well Bob decided to go raid the fridge for a snack. That left the three kids to ponder.

Becky, Chase and Blu sat on the couch. Blu had decided to grab her crayons to color a picture. Squeaky, who was out of his cage, poked his head out of her overalls pocket. The two older siblings frowned upon seeing the mouse, obviously they weren't too fond of him. After shooting them a glare he hid again.

"How about we watch something?" Chase said after some time of thinking.

"Yes! I think there's a new pretty pink princess episode now." Becky said. She grabbed the remote and flipped the TV on. Chase wasn't a fan of the show like his sisters and mom was. But he didn't exactly dislike it like his dad. Still, he figured it was better than nothing.

It turned out to be an episode they had already seen. However Becky asked to see it again. Chase could remember the entire plot. The main character and her unicorn got teleported to a pocket dimension of sorts. They met a group of fairies. Then there was an evil troll. Turns out the troll wasn't actually evil but lonely. The real antagonist had turned out to be one of the fairies who was friends with the troll. She tried trapping the princess in the dimension forever. Of course in the end good triumphed and evil was vanquished.

Chase was surprised at how much he actually remembered. But when you watch something for so many times you end up memorizing more than you think.

Blu came back after some time of drawing, tapping on her older siblings to get their attention. "I found a movie…I think." their younger sister piped up. She held an old looking VHS tape, looking at it curiously.

"Hey isn't this one of the items from the antique shop we visited a few days ago?" Becky asked, peeling her eyes away from the TV. She examined the tape. Sure enough it was.

"I don't remember buying this if I'm honest" Chase said with a small shrug.

"Can we watch it?" Blu asks. "Please?" Just like their dad, Chase was not immune to the puppy eyes. So the siblings found themselves putting the tape in the VHS player and pressing start.

They were each curious and excited to see the old show. Not knowing much about it aside from its title they didn't know what to expect.

It showed a company logo before a black screen appeared. It was completely silent and still. The kids waited a couple of minutes to see if anything would happen…but nope. Still a black screen.

"How peculiar…" Becky says.

"What does peculiar mean?" Blu asks.

"It means something weird or something that confuses you." She explains. "Like how this is weird. You'd think there would be something on this tape…"

"Shhh wait…I think I see something." Chase said, holding a finger up to his lips. Her siblings quieted down looking back at the TV screen. There was a red rotary telephone just sitting there now. A yellowed four fingered hand reached out from the darkness. Silently spinning the rotary part failing a random number.

((( Ring! )))

The sound of their house phone cutting through the air, ringing caused them to jump.

Meanwhile the hidden figure on the television sat or stood (hard to tell with the darkness) patiently as if waiting for them to pick up the phone.

(((((( Ring! ))))))

((( Ring! )))

(((((((( Ring! ))))))))

Answer the phone will you?

"It's probably just a coincidence." Becky reassures. Her brother nodded in agreement but yet he couldn't help that it wasn't a coincidence. "I'll go answer it in case it's mom or dad." Chase said after a few more rings. He went into the kitchen where Bob was still. The monkey seemed to be washing the dishes now.

With a small gulp, Chase picked up the phone. For a moment there was silence

"Hello…?"

"Hi?" Chase said. He didn't recognize this voice at all. It sounded clear yet old and static like it had been recorded at the same time.

"Hello neighbor!"

"Sorry I think you may have the wrong number." He didn't recognize this voice at all. It sounded clear yet old and static like it had been recorded at the same time.

"But how when I meant to call you?"

Chase got quiet. He glanced at Bob who looked at him back, worried.

"I'm sorry, who is this?" Maybe this was a prank call.

The voice on the other end was quieter now. "I can't say right now…"

"Why not?" Okay this definitely seems like a prank…still there was something off about the strangers tone.

"You like surprises don't you?" The voice then asked. There was a loud creak and thumping noise on the other end, the stranger puases. "You should get going…Home doesn't like to wait."

Chase tried to open his mouth to ask what the voice was talking about when the phone hung up.

BBZZZZZZZZZZZTTTTT -

the boy threw the phone down, his ears hurting from the loud static. Bob gave a questioning chirp. "I'm not sure what that was about…" Chase said, holding his head. His eyes looked at the doorway as his voice trailed off.

The living room was dark and silent now. Which was quite odd since it had been only the early afternoon. But how much time has passed? "Blu…?" Chase didn't hear a response from her. "Becky…?" Nor from the middle child. He got even more worried. "Bob?" The monkey held his hand, signaling he was still there. Chase sighed feeling a bit relieved, still he was concerned why his sisters weren't answering.

The TV flickered back on, catching his attention. As he stared at it, failing to notice red wires heading straight for him.

And that was the last thing the boy remembered.

@blueweirdness @lartmacabre @dualnaturedscientist @liloskull343 @ninjastormhawkkat

[vvatchword]

Chapter 1: Take the Head

You remember Pa teaching you how to pop the head off of a chicken. You weren’t very big yet, maybe five. You had always been taught to treat the animals with respect, so it jarred you to yank the chicken up by the throat. The chicken flapped and kicked; the golden eye latched on yours, a panicked pinpoint.

You couldn’t break her neck. You tried and you tried but you just rubbed her throat in a circle over and over like you were trying to give her an Indian burn. She frantically scratched your arm up and down, her beak gaping in a terrified pant. You know now that you could have done it easily—a chicken’s spine is little more resistant than a dry stick or a pencil—but that was just the problem: she wasn’t either of those things.

Then Pa took her from you, wrapped his fist around the throat, and popped the head clean off. He held the head out to you. The eyes had closed. The lids were soft and pink. Her face was peaceful. Her body still kicked.

“See?” he said. “Easy. She didn’t feel a thing.”

There was blood on Pa’s hands. When he pointed out the cockerel for you to try again, there was blood on your hands, too.

** You aren’t much of a conversationalist. You’ve gone on dates where you barely spoke a word. Your coworkers don’t know your name. You work in a factory line, screwing in one piece at a time. Dull work, monotonous work. Lets your brain run on its own time at its own pace.

You like to remember lists during such times. Pa taught you about something called a “mind palace,” a detailed map you build in your mind and store thoughts inside of. Somehow recall is easier when you can imagine them in a physical space. You store your shopping lists there. You also store guns—lists about makes, models, ammunition.

Guns have been a special interest of yours since childhood. You would save pages out of the Sears catalog as a child and tape them on the wall so you saw them when you woke up. You were fascinated how they went together and would draw them in their disparate parts before drawing them put together again. You liked drawing them from all different angles just to admire the geometry. You checked out books on guns from the library so often that the librarian started setting aside new offerings for you. You had never been able to own guns of your own, but you practiced with your father’s Mark I Sturm Ruger and the old .22. You could ping prairie dogs like a pro.

You like to think that eventually, you’ll buy one of your own. You know just the model—the BAR, or Browning Automatic Rifle—full-aut, carried by Bonnie and Clyde, running second-fiddle to the M1 Garand throughout World War II. When you repeat the gun list, you think “BAR” before any of the others; it is the highest honor you can bestow.

You like monotony for the same reason you like lists. There’s something relaxing about rhythms. It’s like music, like dance. You can’t dance, of course—you never learned. You don’t own a record player, either—you don’t spend money on frivolous things. The Depression is still a heavy black cloud in the back of your mind. You lived on a farm, so your belly never went empty, but you also didn’t grow up wearing shoes.

You are 28. Or is it 29? It’s been a while since you’ve thought about your birthday. It’s on July 3. “Our independence baby,” someone said. It may have been Pa, but you don’t remember exactly; you were very small. You do remember Ma replying that it was one day off and they weren’t in America anyway, so it didn’t count. You were disappointed for some reason; sure, you know it doesn’t make a difference either way, but it would be nice to have something special that was just your own. Oh, Ma and Pa told you you were going to do great things someday—that’s something you could believe when you were, say, eight. But then you had to make your way in the world and all the world offered was a factory line, a small dark room, and the weather. It’s hard to believe in anything magnificent at the bottom of a hole.

**

You live in sparsely-furnished rooms in cheap apartments near the ocean. On weekdays, you make your bed, eat breakfast (eggs, toast, coffee with cream), shave, dress, go to work (screw, screw, screw), come home and turn on the radio (evening news, then whatever entertainment strikes your fancy, usually action and adventure programs), drink a beer while completing the evening ablutions (wash dishes, pack lunch for tomorrow, shower, set alarm clock, read evening edition in bed until you get tired).

Sometimes you go to your neighbor’s to watch their television in exchange for a beer; you sit side by side and quietly drink as Lucy gambols and the laugh track rolls. On Saturdays, you go shopping for the household essentials and stand in lines while the grocer bags produce and the butcher cuts your lunch meat.

If it’s nice enough, you walk down to the ocean to stretch your legs. It’s not a pretty place by any means; a sodden gray beach where colorless rushes thrust insistent heads and sun-bleached shells lie. In winter, it’s even more dreary; the Atlantic is a sullen gray sweep and the nasty cold steals your breath. It’s the kind of cold that makes you feel wet and heavy even if you haven’t touched water.

You have never felt as though the sea is a nice place; you distinctly remember deciding this back when you first entered the town. Even in the summer, when the water is glassy green and the beach crowded with tourists, you feel as though the sea is a vast and apathetic monster—apocalyptic in size, in scale, in potential. Apocalyptic: you don’t go to church, but that’s the word that comes to you. The sea feels as though it should be the focus of worship, the kind of thing you sacrifice to; you’ve never held much by spiritual claptrap, but you will grant one place worthy of godhood.

You did not grow up near the sea. You grew up in Kansas, a land so flat you used to roll up papers like spyglasses and try to see Japan. You moved to the coast of New Jersey because you’d wanted to see the ocean. No—no, it may well have been because of the factory job. They do pay well and they probably printed something in the help ads. A family friend in New York often sends newspaper clippings with his letters just to be of service. Yes, that would make a great deal more sense: “I heard Jack is looking for a job,” he’d say. “Here are some local ones that are right up his alley.”

Yes, now that you think about it, that’s exactly what happened. The sea was a bonus—until you saw it. But how were you to know what the sea was really like until you went there? It’s too bad someone couldn’t have told you.

Sometimes you think you should move away, but learning new routines is such a pain that you just put up with it. Someday you’ll probably get tired enough to leave. The way the cold weaponizes itself with humidity tires you down to your bones.

You know, you haven’t thought of the family friend in a while. What was his name again? Joe? Jim? John? One of those common names. You’ll have to check your address book. It’s been a while since you’ve heard from him. You should write sometime to make sure he’s all right.

For that matter, you haven’t heard from your parents. When did they last write? Hell! Maybe it’s your turn to write. Yes, it’s your turn to write for certain; that would explain why you haven’t received any letters recently. You do tend to forget minutiae with the humdrum flow of everyday life. Your parents are older now; you know better than to leave them without a word every now and then. Your mother must be worried sick.

You decide to purchase some stationery and stamps that weekend, but you forget until the invitation comes, and by that time, it’s far too late. You didn’t know that then, of course. You didn’t know much of anything, if you have to be honest.

UPRISING: BLACK SCRAPBOOK HUB

[cleverchildblizzard]

I want to draw a design for Popstar Foxy but my mum won't let me 😔

she wants me to rest so she took my sketchbook and pencils. So for now have some notes and the Popstars.

Popstar Freddy:

Freddy basically looks like Carnie but instead of wearing Carnie's vest he has a sleeveless jacket that still has the shape of Carinie's vest,kinda like Freddy from FNAF Plus.

Though he doesn't exactly look like Carnie tho.Like Popstar Chica,Freddy has red cheeks like Chica.

Him and Popstar Foxy are actually the most aggressive of the Fazbear crew.I just want to make Popstar Bonnie seem laid back and calm but still aggressive.Same with Chica but her personality is different.

Idk why but Popstar Freddy is mainly inspired by Toy Freddy,Carnie and Rockstar Freddy.I just think they sound the same and their designs are cool :)

I generally want to make Popstar Freddy a bit manipulative,but at the same time,not being very good at it.Like I just want him to say something,(he thinks sounds),persuasive but in reality it doesn't.at all.

He can also huming little songs he sang to the kids after hours,even some little sea shanty's Popstar Foxy sang.

Main Colour: Brown

Eye Colour: Blue

Sleeveless Jacket Colour: Main Colour: Black. Additional Colours: White and some Yellow.

Muzzle Colour: Light Brown (black freckles,three on each side of muzzle)

Snout Colour: Black

Extra colours: Light Brown (toes),White (teeth colour)

Popstar Bonnie:

Slightly looks like Rockstar Bonnie and has his colours,but he actually has Carnie's vest this time.

Though the vest is red and white,with his bow tie a darker shade of red.

Him and Popstar Chica are the less aggressive animatronics when it comes to after hours,I wanted to make his personality alot more laid back and calm.Meaning that he doesn't attack much,but not any less dangerous to the player.

His main inspiration is Rockstar Bonnie,though when I thought about his voice,I generally wanted him to sound the Bonnie in this VHS tape:

https://youtu.be/GClqv9sx0cg?si=dKNjJgL2zmCbCHSX

BigWes99 was the one who voiced Foxy and Bonnie,go check them out!

I just think that the voice fits him.for some reason.

After hours,you can hear Bonnie strumming his guitar,at the most random times to.

Main Color: Bipedal navy-blue

Eye Colour: Green

Vest: Red and White (striped vest)

Muzzle Colour: Lighter shade of Bipedak navy-blue

Extra Colours: White (teeth colour),Light navy-blue (toes.)

I'll do Popstar Foxy and Chica soon :P.

Ill make some facts and more information about my other Ocs Hubert and Hannah.Including Hannahs dissapearence.

U can ask me questions about the Popstars in my Inbox :D

(Pls ask me questions I'm so bored)

[screwtoddstevesherdaddynow]

Chapter 4: “You Okay?”

Next morning came so quickly. I hadn’t slept much. I tossed and turned what seemed like the whole time. With what little sleep I did get, I dreamt of my conversation with Eddie when we were in his van. Every look, every small glimpse of his smile. Him telling me that his shirt was mine and why…

“Nah keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”

What did he mean exactly when he said it looked better on me? Was it just because it was the shirt or did I actually look good to someone? I never thought of myself as someone guys found attractive. I wasn’t girly like Chrissy or a tomboy like Max. I was me. Rosie Harrington, freckled nose and more. Eddie was, well he was Eddie. Long hair with waves of brown framing his face. His smile was enough to light up that dark van. It was so easy talking to him like that. Was he just being nice? It’s as though my brain took that as a note to wake up. Letting the sound of my alarm break through the sweet dreams I was having. Eyes fluttering open to see that the sun was up and that Saturday was ready to start. Which meant it was time for me to get out of bed and maybe distract myself from all these thoughts of Eddie Munson.

This day was like many others. I ate my breakfast and cleaned up the kitchen when I was done. Then went back upstairs to get dressed. Nothing too extravagant. Just a pair of straight legged, high wasted jeans. Paired those with a cropped tee with Van Halen’s logo. It was from their tour in ‘84. Steve took Nancy when they had still been together. Got me the shirt since I hadn’t been able to go. Pinned my hair back with a few bobby pins. Please with myself, I gathered some things in my backpack. My sketch pad, my pencils, and some charcoal for drawing. Also a small blanket I could sit on and my small walkman cassette player. Ran downstairs and grabbed a canteen filling it with water. I felt inspired and was gonna head to my spot by the lake to draw some artwork. Before I left, I grabbed a sweater hanging by the coats on the coatrack. Wrote a note for my parents and Steve, so they wouldn’t worry.

‘Hey, went to the lake to work on my art project. Will be home before dark. Love you three!

-Rosie’

Taped the note to the fridge door and went out to the garage. Grabbed my bike from the inside and pushed it out into the sunlight. I started peddling my way to Lovers Lake. There was a spot I usually sat when I would draw or paint. Steve had taken me there when he’d hangout with his old friends from school. They would swim in the lake and I would sit on the bank with my art supplies. Sometimes I’d swim too but it was nice to do my own thing. With it being as nice as it was today, I figured I’d relive some of that peaceful time.

When I had gotten to the lake, I pulled the blanket out and sat down. Took a swig from the canteen and then gotten my sketch pad out and the pencils. Then I took out my Walkman and placed the headphones on. Pressing play, Fleetwood Mac began playing through the tiny speakers on my ears. Getting into the zone so I could begin. I drew what came to me in that moment. Should have known that my drawing would have had some correlation with my dreams. Once the picture was done, I set my pencil and charcoal down. Looking at it, I felt a smile appear on my face. It was from the view of someone if they had been looking through a windshield. But not just any windshield. No, this was Eddie’s van windshield. The view had been of him and I talking in his van from the night before. His smile, me casually covering my face so he wouldn’t notice my smile. I felt somewhat embarrassed, like the thought of him seeing this. He’d probably think I was some psycho girl. Placing the pad on the blanket, I took my headphones off and took a deep breath. Looking out over the lake to admire the simple yet peaceful moment, the quiet was interrupted immediately. The sound of twigs snapped and leaves rustling. I quickly stood up and turned around to face the trees. There was a shadowing figure coming closer to me. I realized that my only self defense at this point was a drawing pencil. Picking one up, I pointed it out in front of me.

“Stop! Don’t come any further!” I yelled. My heart beat picked up and my breathing heavier. Seeing the figure emerge from the trees, I felt some relief. However my heartbeat still at a rapid pace.

“Woah! Put the pencil down. I come in peace.” It wad Eddie. He had his hands up like he was caught by Hopper our police chief or one of his cronies.

“Eddie! Jesus you about gave me a heart attack.” Catching my breath.

“You okay?” He put his hands down and stepped towards me. I nodded and started to calm myself. “What are you doing here?”

“Um it was nice out today. I came out and decided to work on some artwork.” I pointed the pencil towards the spot I had sat. “What are you doing here?”

“I had some business to take care of. Meeting some clientele here.” Eddie chuckled and waved his lunch pale. It was the metal lunch pale he carried his lunch in for school everyday. There were rumors that it’s not all he carried.

“Oh well let me get out of your way.” Starting to gather my things into my backpack. Eddie walked to where was and sat on the blanket. I looked down as I still stood there. He patted the spot next to him like he wanted me to sit down. I reluctantly sat.

It was quiet for a few minutes. Eddie and I just sat there. He pulled his cigarettes out and a lighter. The cigarette placed between his lips, he lit it. Took a few drags from it and exhaled. He finally spoke up.

“So you’re an artist?” He took another drag from the cigarette.

“Not really. I enjoy it and hope to go to school for art. Then I’ll be an artist.” I pulled my knees up to my chest and held them tight. “What are you gonna go to school for?”

“I’m not. Well I am unsure. I do wanna see my band make it big.” He looked out across the lake.

“You’re in a band? What it’s called?” Interestingly, I wanted to know more.

“We are called Corroded Coffin. We play at the Hideout. Some of the stuff we play is a mix between rock and metal.” Eddie seemed to have this excitement as he talked about them. I enjoyed it.

Eddie had continued to talk more about his band. Finding out he was the lead guitarist. Including his best friends; Gareth on the drums, Jeff on the other electric guitar and his other friend on bass. He also mentioned his guitar. He talked about it like it was this goddess or something. Eyes were lit up the whole time he talked. Then he asked me more about my art. I shown him some of my sketches, all but one. The one I drew earlier. Told him that my dream was to become an artist. Mentioning how my parents didn’t think it was practical. That lead our conversation to grow deeper. We both related on some level. My parents not being around much, his parents not in the picture. It broke my heart, he said that he lived with his Uncle Wayne and that he hadn’t seen his dad in years. When I asked about his mother, he grew quiet. Taking note I changed the subject. We must’ve talked for quite awhile. At one point I looked up mid conversation and seen the sky become an orangish pink.

“Wow. The sky is just… Wow.” I was in love with how the sky looked during a sunset.

“Yeah, I don’t think my dude is showing up.” Eddie looked at his watch.

“Oh I’m sorry.” No I wasn’t. Are you kidding? This was nice. Just him and I.

“Don’t be. Not that important.” He shrugged it off. Then he looked at me. I caught his gaze. “Wanna get out of here and get something to eat or something?”

“Yeah sure.” I agreed with a smile. We both got up and I packed my things back into my backpack. We walked back to his van which was parked on the edge of the woods closest to the road. He would help me if there were giant roots sticking up from the ground, which meant our hands touched.

As we made our way to the van, he opened the door for me on the passenger side. I slid in and buckled my seatbelt. He walked over to his side and got in his seat. I noticed this time he buckled in. He started the ignition and drove away from the spot he was parked. Eddie and I were getting food together. Eddie was taking me out. Was I insane to think this was a date? What was he thinking? There were two things in that moment that were certain. One, my crush was confirmed. I indeed liked Eddie a lot. Two, my thoughts wondering if he felt the same, I needed to know.

Sorry if this chapter was too short. I had a lot of stuff going on. Chapter 5 will be more of a deeper dive into the connection. Sorry I know it’s slow but it’ll get better.

[mrwinterr]

So Happy

Pairing: Rockstar!Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader

Summary: After a night with your favorite artist, you’re left wondering where you both really stand. 

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual, but unprotected sex, oral [male & female receiving], vaginal penetration and fingering, size kink and dirty talk). Language. Light mentions of substance abuse. Lying asses. Internet toxicity (I hate it here sometimes). Angst, I guess...TIME SKIP...and absolute horrendous fluff (that’s not my brand, alright).

Disclaimer: You can read part 1 here! It would make some sense. 

A/N: This follow-up is still based on some true events. Can’t hate the players, hate the game. For the most part it’s made up because some of us deserve the ending we think we deserve. I’m dedicating this to @shawnie--jo​ for all the love, enthusiasm and the patience because this took me a while. It’s a doozy! & with that note, enjoy!

“You owe me,” is the first thing you hear your friend say the moment you stepped foot back into the hotel you had booked for the night before. It was in a much different tone than of the one she had in line for the concert.

Frozen in place, you turn your attention to her sitting figure on one of the single couches of the lobby. She wasn’t happy that much you could tell judging by the expression on her face and the way she sat impatiently, one leg over the other and her arms crossed against her chest.

The bag next to hers on the ground adjacent to her feet were your belongings. The way it was misshapen suggested she had hastily shoved your things back in it for you. She must’ve been in a rush to leave before checking out or…

“You owe me $50 for the late check out fee,” she clarifies, ceasing all thoughts of why she was currently pissed at you.

Now begins the walk of shame. It wasn’t something you were used to. Could you even call this that? You had no reason to feel ashamed because you were completely aware of last night’s events. You defended your decision as so! Then why did you feel this way?

Perhaps it had to do with you just now returning to the hotel you were supposed to have been checked out of hours ago, but instead you’re greeted to your more than displeased best friend staring daggers at you for a different reason.

Sheepishly bringing a hand to rub the back of your neck, when you’re close enough to her, you open your mouth to begin apologizing, but she wasn’t done as she got up on her feet to level with you.

“You said you would be back before check out,” she said voice slowly rising in volume, no matter the distance between you two was close or not, you could tell this was just the start of a catalyst, “and it’s...oh,” she stops to look down at her phone, which shined bright revealing her lock screen and more importantly the time, “...only three hours past check out!” Yup, not happy with you at all.  

“I know you’re upset,” you start with the obvious, “and you have the right to be. I said I would be back in time, but I wasn’t,” maybe admitting you were wrong would allow her to see you were indeed aware of your mistakes, soften the blow to come a little bit.

“Upset? I’m disappointed!” she says, her arms falling to her sides and with a look of disbelief but is quickly washed over with indisposition. “Some sell-out rockstar invites you over to see him and you lose your sense of mind?”

“Look, I’ll pay you back. It’s no big deal.” At least on your end, you’re trying to remain calm even when her tone and choice of words get under your skin. You didn’t need this weekend to end on a bad note.

“This isn’t about the money!” She proclaimed.

“Then why are you bitching at me? I’m a grown adult! I know what I did-” Yeah, at least you were trying to stay composed, right?

“Do you?” She challenges. It’s one of those rhetorical questions, in which she didn’t need an answer to, but you were still going to give her one.

“Yes, ok. I slept with Bucky and I don’t regret it.”

The defense you put up so quickly around you weren’t something your friend was used to witnessing...maybe to your parents, yeah, but not at her. Sure, you’ve both had the occasional quarrels, but your relationship and sexual life was different because she really cared for your wellbeing and would be damned if someone hurt you.

“I’m just worried,” she admits for her initial brute front, “what you did was totally unlike you and I…”

“What?” You interrupt her, growing more tired of this conversation by the second.

“I don’t trust Bucky.” She blurts out.

You scoff at that reasoning, “you don’t know him-”

“And you do?” This time she interrupts and catches you off guard on that one. “You’re right. I don’t know him, but you said it yourself. Bucky meets tons of people every day. He’s on the road a lot. It’s easy for him to get lonely.”

There it was again. The self-conscious thoughts questioning everything about last night’s events. In a pathetic display of defense, you start counter-questioning her with some of the statements Bucky said to you. Why would he tell you all those sweet things and pretty promises if he knew he could have you so easily? Why would he think you weren’t like the other women out there who exposed their escapades for their 15 minutes of fame? What made him think anything of you? There were other girls in the crowd.

“He’s going to tell you things he wants you to hear to get what he wants.” She really believed that. She knew what some men were capable of. She had more experience than you and you often turned to her for things like this.

Her last sentence was something to let sink in. The way last night played out and the last few hours you spent with Bucky; you were blinded by a rose tint world.

Earlier that morning...

“You know,” Bucky starts with his gaze first set on your face, slowly starting to drift down your body trying to catch a glimpse of uncovered skin that the blanket was doing a horrible job in concealing. You watch with bubbling desire the way he bit his bottom lip and eyes growing darker, ”...if you ever need anything. I’m here to help. I can get you out of that town and you can stay with me in Brooklyn. We’ll find you a place to work in that’ll appreciate you more.”

He was a dream. He was so sweet, but you weren’t going to deny it. As much as you adored what little you knew about the real Bucky, a part of you that was always so careful was also skeptical. That voice in the back of your mind, whether it was your parents, teachers in the past, PSA spokespersons or your best friend, was still trying to tell you Bucky wasn’t an exception.

Then on the other hand, you were finally getting what you wanted. You weren’t a little girl anymore. You could take care of your own heart. Why couldn’t you have some fun? Indulge a little. Life is too short to sit around and wait. If he was serious about any of the things he said, then great! If not, oh well, you’ll live. What’s life without experience, right?

You just never imagined any of the harmless mentions or replies through social media were going to get you in bed with him and so smitten.

When Bucky pulls his lips away from you, he repositions himself on the bed to lie on his back and bask in the comfortable silence. You’re still on your side, but your eyes suddenly widen as you curiously take a peek over his frame and notice the red numbers of the alarm clock on the bedside table. The curtains were drawn shut, so you had no trace of the actual time of day.

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself, but was no use. It was just you and Bucky in the room and he’d definitely wonder why you’d grown frantic.

“Whoa. What’s the rush?” He says slowly sitting up, still exhausted, and watching you throw the hotel comforter over your body to get out of bed. You didn’t even care that you were naked in front of him. He’d have a souvenir to remember you by.

The sex tape was the least of your worries though. You fucking missed check out! You can only imagine the look on your friend’s face when you reunite.

“I missed check out,” you respond while momentarily being thrown off course in search of your underwear, but then instantly remembering how Bucky tore it off of you, and you did your best to push aside last night’s activities.

“What?” He asks, rubbing his face trying to rid himself of sleep. He had to get going too. The band was off to play in the next city in some hours. Unfortunately, you didn’t have enough time to take off from work to follow him.

“The hotel I’m staying at. I missed check out and my friend is going to be so pissed at me,” you explained beaten. You can’t for the life of you see where your clothes were in the dark room.

Drawing the curtains open or switching the light on without warning wouldn’t be ideal to the both of you and not only that, the effects of the substances your body was coursed through, the physicality of you and Bucky’s actions last night, the consequence of it all topped with the lone fact that you’re now standing naked in front of Bucky starts to seep in.

You try not to stand there awkwardly and do the only thing you can do. Inhibition creeping back in, you cover your face with your hands and breath in and out, hoping the floor would swallow you whole so you could escape this embarrassment and your friend’s pending wrath.

“Look,” Bucky says now in front of you, pulling your hands away from your face, he’s naked too, washing away some traces of vulnerability away, “you’re already late. You can’t change that. We can only keep moving forward,” he says, his arms slipping around your body to pull you close to his.

The sudden jolt from the skin-to-skin contact quickly subsides with the warmth of his body transferring onto yours. You hold onto his biceps and nod in acceptance. Any attempt to rush back to your hotel wasn’t going to do you any favors now.

“So then, what do you say we get cleaned up and try to enjoy our time together?” The way his head tilted to the side, a not-so-subtle hint in the direction of the shower in the bathroom, his smooth voice and his eyes half-lidded, ready to get lost in you one more time.

You said it yourself, life was short, so if you already knew your friend was going to chew you out, why deny yourself of its pleasures right now, especially if it’s coming from Bucky. 

“Can we just get going? We’ll catch traffic on the way back to the city if we just stand here and keep putting each other down,” you ask, slightly shaking your head of the early morning activities and straightening yourself up, bending forward to pick up your bag and sling it over your shoulder.

This little spat would eventually pass. None of the arguments you two had were ever threatening to your friendship with each other. You’ve both fought over things much more critical that it’d be a shame to let it be over someone like Bucky.

Before you could turn back around to exit, your friend grabs a hold of your arm and stops you. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. I could be wrong. Bucky could be the one, but I want you to be smart about doing whatever you end up doing with him. I just want you to ultimately be happy,” she says wholeheartedly.

You knew she was only coming from a good place. She only ever encouraged you to do your best and the right thing. She was the one you sought out advice from and she never led you astray. In the end, you knew you couldn’t ever truly be mad at her. You owed her more than $50 alone.

“Thanks. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I know your intentions are in the right place and I really appreciate you for everything. You even agreed to come to this show with me! But I’m only human and I’m going to make mistakes along the way,” you say and notice the fallen look on her face, but you don’t give her long enough to feel sorry for you with your follow up statement, “...if I get hurt, it’s going to suck, but I’ll get back up, learn from it and move on. Plus, I’ll have you there by my side to tell you I told you so...again, and we both know how much you enjoy that!” You end it on a joking note.  

A look of hope creeps back in on your friend and she’s pleased to see your resilient attitude again. You give her your best steadfast smile and it seemingly proved to be successful enough for her to accept your answer as she pulls you in for a warm hug.

You wonder, what Bucky’s motive was? He was Bucky Barnes. He could have anyone. Why did he trust you enough to be intimate with? What was his game? You just had to keep telling yourself for your sanity and wellbeing, with or without Bucky, in the end you’d still be happy.

The months to follow after that tour, you and Bucky had continued to stay in touch. You genuinely felt happy. He was giving you attention! From daily texts and long phone conversations or video calls, some rather suggestive than most, you were able to really learn a lot about each other. While you minded his glamorous lifestyle, each interaction erased all notions of it and he was just another normal human being.

If you were being truthful, a part of you was hoping whatever the two of you had was exclusive. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were in a way reserving yourself for Bucky because you felt there was something between you two and maybe he was just like you and too shy to be the one to bring it up first.

At times you’d find yourself being the one to initiate conversation...especially when the communication started becoming less frequent. They then reduced to just Holiday texts and suddenly they’d become unresponsive and you’d even be left on read. He never flew you to Brooklyn. He never followed you back on social media. You’d accepted he was most likely busy and the excuse of not wanting to attract unwanted attention to you, but the reality of it was he had seemed to move on.  

It’d been close to a year and things were really quiet. The Avengers hadn’t released anything new nor did they have an upcoming tour to rehearse for. You’re trying to not let Bucky’s silence bug you and do what you’ve always told yourself - keep living your life. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you were angry at first for letting him get to you like that and realize that boys will be boys. They would never grow a real pair and be straight with women. They always had to go and sugarcoat everything. You had to accept it. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. You were just a one-night stand and the worst part of it was that you consented to it, so you couldn’t hold anything against him.

Things picked back up in your life, work demanded more of your time and you were dating again, taking it very slow and casual. You knew nothing more would come out of it, but it was enough to distract you from Bucky. Life was slowly returning back to normal, even though it never truly could be, until you notice Bucky is posting regularly on his social media accounts again.

It’s not so much that but is one of the comments from another user that is a constant in each sporadic post. You recognize the user as an international model from another country. Curiosity gets the best of you and you decide to check out her profile, noting all the photos of them together and realizing that while you thought Bucky went M.I.A., he was spending his free time getting cozy with her in exotic places.

Her comments start out harmless in the beginning, but quickly become more and more persistent until one sets the record straight. It read, “that’s MY man” followed by a number of heart eye emojis.

You didn’t even know Bucky and the model knew of each other, but why wouldn’t they? He was exposed to extraordinary people, so finding someone in the business was a better bet than settling with you. They lived in a totally different world than yours.

There’s a plethora of thoughts that run through your mind. This is why he isn't responding to you. He had a girlfriend, who was in a much different league than of your own, and he didn’t really go public with it on his end. It made you sad, that much you could admit to yourself because you held back for him, but you weren’t going to admit this feeling to him or your friend or the world. You were going to prove to them you’d do the same thing - move on. 

It’s a rather slow day at work and you’ve resulted in mindlessly scrolling through your Facebook newsfeed, but growing tired of lame memes and life updates from people you haven’t spoken to since high school, you switch over to Twitter for a more different kind of news and also a bit of some entertainment.

You’re not expecting the particular topic to be trending - #BuckyBarnesIsCancelled. You’d manage to move on from whatever it was between you and Bucky and returned back to your daily routine. You tried to remain a fan of The Avengers, but it wasn’t the same. The fling, if you could call it, with Bucky wouldn’t let you. You’d always be grateful for how their music impacted your life, but you’d have to keep living your life despite what transpired.  

Sitting up from your slumped position in your office chair, you ponder for maybe two seconds before clicking on the hashtag. Things were still pretty quiet with The Avengers, with the exception of paparazzi photos here and there, but this seemingly came out of nowhere. What stupid thing did he get himself into?

“No way,” you mock at the headline. Claims of Bucky being mentally abusive, and an addict were being made left and right.

You scrolled through the timeline and threads of replies to find the source of it all and you were shocked that it came from none other than his own girlfriend...well now ex-girlfriend you assumed. The vindictive side of you only allowed a small part in finding some humor in this, but if Bucky was any bit of the Bucky you spent the night with and got to know for those few short months then this was sad for him.

There wasn’t much you could do though. What were you to do? Send him a message of condolences of some sort? He’d probably just leave you on read. Whatever you two had was long over.

Bucky’s agency did well to defend him and save his reputation. They released one statement to clear things up. There’d been images before of him partying and no doubt high on some substance, but that didn’t prove he was an addict. Then again, did you ever really know him? You’d been exposed to that stuff around and because of him. Some people just had more access to certain things than others did.

In some time, when things leveled out once more, he seemed to be back in the clear, but at a rate where people have already decided whose story they believed over the other, whose side they were on, the damage had been done. If there was a recurring theme here, Bucky had one thing to do after the scandal - move on with his life.

It felt a little strange being here again. If you take into consideration some of the things that had already happened, a lot has really changed since you were last in a line to see The Avengers live.

The band had taken a short hiatus to let the fire die out from Bucky’s scandal. It was probably a smart move - to let people cool their jets and forget. It was last reported Bucky had turned a new leaf...something about getting help. Steve took time off to focus on other projects...something about humanitarian work. Sam released some solo stuff...something with a different sound, but still as successful. The time off was probably the best for the guys.

There weren’t as many people it seemed, but enough for them to play in one of the city’s largest venues. You suppose that’s what a span of three years could do to an artist. When the tour was announced you weren’t sure if you should buy a ticket or not, but it’d been some time since you had a night where you could forget about the stresses of the world for a few hours. Never mind the short stint between you and Bucky, you were still a fan of their music and the joyous feeling you got from it was timeless.

This time you were alone. You didn’t even tell your friend they were touring again. Bucky was almost a nonexistent topic for a good while now. Plus, she had her own life to live and couldn’t always be there next to you. You were the bigger fan after all. On top of that, she would’ve most likely have advised against you attending.

Your attire was not to impress, electing on something casual and comfortable with a simple pair of jeans, a leather jacket over a nice top that did a better job at controlling your cleavage than the last one, and cute boots. Yeah, a lot had changed, but the scene didn’t as there were still a mix of fans, old and new, over and under dressed.

The guys still had it. They looked great! They definitely belonged on the stage for the world to see. They even played a 3-song encore. You could tell they loved doing what they did and anyone who was a fan could feel the passion and energy they poured out in the performance.

You’re currently sitting in the seat of your car, head resting against the headrest as you try to unwind a little from standing for a few hours and from the walk back to the parking garage when your phone vibrates and chimes loudly.  

You glance over at the device you placed next to the driving console and your eyebrows scrunch in confusion at the name that appeared. Bucky Barnes. You’d never deleted his number and his text message thread had remained at the very bottom of your messaging app all this time. A sense of apprehension flows through you as you wonder what he could possibly want. How do you just text someone after ghosting them for over a year? Not to mention to someone you did something so intimate with and made all those promises to in the past. How does one do that?

Not wanting to dwell on it any longer or slip into restless thoughts about Bucky again because it wasn’t a walk in the park to forget about him, you open the text. It asks if you were in attendance because he claimed to have seen you in the crowd. This time around you’re not overthinking about what to respond with, you simply say yes. He’d been quick with his next message asking if you were still in the area to meet up.

The wise thing would probably be to reject the invite, but you find yourself once again staring at a hotel door waiting for him to open it. Initially, you’d suggested he tell you what he wanted to say via text, but he said it was something that had to be told in person. So, having been through what you had as a result of meeting up with him in the past, you had some sense of mind this time, you’d just have to make another mental note to not jump into bed with him again. If you were being truthful to yourself, the sex tape left you feeling a little cheap. He didn’t even send it to you as some form of fucked up courtesy or assure you that it wasn’t ever going to get leaked and luckily it hasn’t. You hoped he’d deleted it.

It was almost like Deja vu. You might as well have been reliving the night the first time Bucky invited you over to his hotel room. In the beginning it was kind of awkward and quiet, and it was exactly that years later, just with added history of course.

You’d chosen to sit on the end of one of the beds while Bucky moved slowly around the room trying to gather his thoughts and where to start. He notices the change in you. You were more confident and as you should be. Bucky Barnes couldn’t intimidate you this time. He had more to be embarrassed about than you did now.

Even though you had nowhere to be in the morning, it was getting late and you really would just like to get this meeting over with and Bucky was stalling.

“Bucky, why did you invite me here?” You say, the one to break the ice. He finally stops fidgeting around and focuses on you.

“I...I wanted to apologize,” he starts off, and you’re unmoving silence allows him to continue, “I realize how much of a complete dick I was to you…”

“What do you mean?” You ask. It’s not like he spread any dirty rumors about you or anything. He didn’t need to apologize for anything that you’re aware of. Maybe for leading you on, but you came to terms some time ago that maybe he didn’t owe you an explanation or perhaps you’d never get one. Yet here you both are.

“I used you,” he explains, now you’re confused, and he can see you’re not getting it entirely, which pains him. You didn’t think anything he did with you was wrong because you consented to it. It took two to tango, right?

Except it wasn’t like that at all and he wanted you to know how he strung you along all just for a quick fuck in the beginning and to cover his tracks he acted like he cared in getting to know you afterwards not realizing something purely good could come out of it for him. The confession wasn’t meant to hurt you again, but for you to realize your worth. He messed up with someone so special.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I remembered you from years before when you tripped in front of me,” there’s a small trace of happiness in the fond memory, “...and when I saw you in the crowd that night, fuck you looked so good and you still do…” he ended up a flustered mess after that small admission.

“Where is this going?” You ask hoping he’d get back on track and reveal the rest, trying to keep the fact he admitted an attraction to you in the back of your mind.

“Right...I’ll admit my ego got the best of me. The band was doing so well, everyone noticed us! I was getting attention from all kinds of people! I got hooked to different things,” suppose those articles were true then about him getting clean, you thought to yourself, “...it does get lonely on the road and I was so desperate for anyone,” oh you hoped and prayed he wouldn’t say what he was going to say next, but he does, “...and I knew there wouldn’t be that much effort on my part to get you to sleep with me.”

Great. Your friend was right then, and he was just like any other house name artist.

“Um...okay, that’s not something I was wanting to hear about myself,” you said after letting that sink in. Did you still appear to look easy?

“No, I’m sure it’s not, but when we were alone together everything was just easy-”

“Yeah, I got that. I’m easy!” You interrupt, and now you’re angry. As he’s trying to explain his actions, you started thinking about how mad and hurt you were when he started ghosting you. You couldn’t be upset about him getting a girlfriend, but the fact that he didn’t think he could continue even being your friend and instead just chose to ignore you was the better option was hella annoying.

“That’s not what I meant!” He says trying to justify his choice of words.

“Then how did you mean it?” You demand, and Bucky is a bit stunned with your new attitude. He foresaw that he would have a difficult time in explaining himself, but he didn’t think it’d be this hard dealing with how much his actions affected you.

“Everything was easy with you because you made it easy to feel,”

“I don’t know if I understand,” you say and attempt to get up, “...maybe this was a bad idea.”

“No, please. Let me finish,” Bucky is quick to get in front of you as he pleads for you to stay. You give him a slight nod and sit back down.

“Things with you were easy in a sense that being around you I was able to just be myself. I’ve never said those things to girls before you! I didn’t have to impress you with anything flashy. I even forgot I was some rockstar! You’re an incredible person, really-”

“I’m sorry, Bucky, but I just can’t,” you say, hating to interrupt him again, but you’re not ready to hear any of this, “...none of this still doesn’t sound right. It was just one night and then how do you explain just ghosting me the moment you get a supermodel girlfriend?” that last part came out unintentionally feisty but might as well let him know how you’d felt, “You couldn’t even be my friend when you were with her! I guess it was easy to just forget me too…”

Bucky lowers his head ashamed of how he handled that and just nods in acknowledgement of his actions, “you’re right. It doesn’t make sense, but what I feel is even harder to explain...”

“None of this accounts for her,” you demand. A part of you just wanted to know where she came from. How did it happen? Who asked who out? It wasn’t important information to know about, but the urge of human curiosity was large.

“She wasn’t even my idea,” he muttered, not really wanting to talk about her.

“What?” You ask.

“Getting with her was the label’s idea,” he admits, hating he was coerced into the idea of an on-screen relationship.

You scoff at the stupidity of fake relationships in the Entertainment industry. Why did people get their rocks off over it? Were OTPs really that a big deal? Are people so bored with their own lives that they have to push corporate into bringing two people who don't have feelings for each other together? However, Bucky thinks you don’t believe him and given how little you developed in trusting him with things, he’s not entirely wrong.

“I know it was a dumb thing to agree to and it’s one of the horrors working in this business, but I know now I should’ve just been forward with you,” Bucky says, voice still riddled begging for forgiveness.

“Why couldn’t you then?” You interrogate and notice the creases of distress on his face soften. “If I made it so easy to feel, then why wasn’t it just that to tell me the truth?”

“I-I don’t know,” he replies.

“Yes, you do,” you retort, and pretend you’re going to leave, but by doing so you know it’ll only get him to spill the beans quicker.

“I was scared!” He admits, stepping in front of you and keeping you still in your place on the end of the bed.

“Scared? Of what? Me?” You ask incredulously looking up at him.

“Yes!” He says and kneels down in front of you. “You’re so perfect! You’re real! You don’t treat me like I’m some celebrity. You didn’t even participate when people started cancelling me or whatever! You could’ve and you had every right to expose me, but you didn’t!” Your act did the trick, because the words just kept coming out of Bucky.

“I’m so sorry for ignoring you, for not telling you I was with her, but the more I got to know you, a part of me got really scared that I couldn’t keep being the kind of man you deserved because of my problems,” by this point, Bucky has placed both his hands on either side of you, his arms trapping you, “...trust me, I had a lot of time to think about everything I did wrong and what harm my reckless lifestyle has on others…I just feared it was already too late, but the one thing that I always thought about that helped me get through it was the lone night I had with you. I was so happy! I wanted that again...I had to get back to that, so I invited you back to try,” you didn’t even realize how close his face was to yours. He looked so torn and you hated seeing him like that, but there was nothing you could say that could fix things right now.

Bucky now felt vulnerable and almost pathetic. Just because he wanted another shot of happiness, and with you of all people, what made it okay for him to think you wanted to try again? You weren’t so certain of what you wanted with him anymore.

“Wow,” is all you give. You’re not sure what more you could add. After all that, he actually liked you? Were you still sure you weren’t living in some fanfic world? You needed some time to think about that and much to Bucky’s expectations, you weren’t going to come to a conclusion before you left this room tonight.

“Is there anything else you want to say?” You offer him the floor, and he gets it. You’re not going to say anything particular to his confession, at least not now. He’s not upset at all. It was a lot to take in. He had time to think, and he had to respect the time you’d need now.

He nods and backs away, realizing the close proximity, “just one question,” you nod this time and let him ask, “do you regret it?”

You know what he’s referring to, sleeping with him, the sex tape, the countless conversations, meeting with him right now - everything.

“No,” you answer honestly.

He lets out a weak smile, looking down sheepishly and adds, “I’ve never done anything like this with anyone before, I promise.”

He could promise and swear up and down all he’d like, but how could you be really sure? The only response you could give him is a small, neutral hum in acknowledgement.

Bucky knew this conversation wasn’t going to go as he had hoped. He really didn’t have a plan, he just really wanted to see you again. He goes silent and you know at this point, everything was all laid out. Time would tell the rest if this was worth saving.

“I can forgive you. I know I can because in a way part of moving on allows one to do so but completing a session or doing time in rehab doesn’t really prove anything,” you said brutally honest with him, he looks up at you almost defeated and just waiting for the final blow.

“You said a lot of promising things back then and you said a lot more tonight,” you add on, and gently begin to remove his hands from the spots either side of you to let you free, and get up to head out, however not with one more thing he could reflect on, also giving him hope, “...you need to show you’ve really changed,” then the conversation was over.

In some ways, these events needed to happen. He had to hit rock bottom to learn from his mistakes and kick out the bad habit. He knew now that he had to work hard to give you a reason to trust him and maybe even in the long run be with him.

On the other hand, you had to go through this whole thing in order to not base your happiness on someone else. You could be happy on your own and open enough to be with someone that wasn’t Bucky. 

For the next few months, to your surprise, Bucky had actually made an effort to keep in touch with you. It wasn’t overbearing and he minded your space as well as he could from a distance, given that he was still busy with the band and other duties that came with his status.

While at times he could be flirty, you learned it was part of his charm. Your friend wasn’t entirely thrilled when you’d admitted to her that you visited Bucky that night. You might’ve not shown it, but she knew how much his past actions affected you. Granted it did its job in teaching you a lesson and in return allowed you to be more confident and to not take anyone’s bullshit, she’d be damned if Bucky tried to pull another act like that around you again.

By now, you were comfortable enough with him to even tell him about random dates you’d gone on; none proving to be long-term, but it was nice to confide in someone else other than your best friend and get an opinion from a male perspective.

You weren’t going to lie, there was a part of you that still liked Bucky more than a friend, but you weren’t sure when it was okay to willingly go all in again with him. Sure, you’d given him another chance, but just how low could people really go to get what they wanted? Some people could just be really manipulative, and you weren’t wanting to ruin what you’ve both rebuilt for yourselves. Either way, you’d be happy with him in your life even as a friend, which is how it could’ve gone if he’d been honest from the get-go.

The year was coming to a close and you’re at your job’s annual Christmas party. You’d managed to convince your friend to be your plus one, but she claimed she didn’t need bribery because your company always ordered outstanding catering and who in their right mind would turn down free food anyways?

Aside from pretending you were having a great time talking to your co-workers, most of which whom you barely spoke to at the office and as faux-friendly as they were tonight, you felt stupid for glancing at your phone every now and then hoping to get a message from Bucky. He’d been keeping you entertained the first half of the party until he just stopped responding.

Your friend had ditched you to take advantage of the open bar several minutes ago, so you were sitting at a table alone trying not to look pathetic. You started thinking of when an appropriate time would be to leave when the Market Manager of your job took the mic. Too late, you thought to yourself and decided to get comfortable in your seat and listened to what cheesy Holiday speech they had to give, but what you hadn’t expected was a surprise guest.  

“What the hell?” You said to yourself as you watched Bucky, Steve and Sam shake hands with one of your bosses before settling into what would appear as an acoustic performance.

How’d they manage to get in contact with your job? Who gave them the in? Bucky knew what you did for a living, but you never stayed on that subject long enough to think much about it. Then your friend slides into the empty seat next to you, a drink in one hand and a knowingly smirk on her lips, one that suggests she was definitely in on this act. You didn’t realize how long you’d been staring at her with a stupid look of disbelief all over your face until your name is echoed throughout the speakers.

It snaps you out of your trance and you focus your attention to Bucky on stage, a huge smile on his face. All formalities set aside, he highlights you and your friendship before jumping into their new single, which was widely popular right now. Normally, you weren’t one to take compliments easily, not used to so much attention, but the whole world disappeared with Bucky.

Once their little set was over, the majority of your colleagues enjoyed the performance and asked for photos, to which the guys were more than happy to appease to. Your friend had managed to escape your clutches once more, this time abandoning you for the dessert table. You’re not alone for long as Bucky occupies the seat left open next to you. You look around your surroundings, hoping there aren’t any more surprises in store, and practically attack him with a big hug.

Bucky’s chuckle is muffled, his face buried in your hair, as he wraps his arms around you to return the gesture. When you pull away, you’re almost left speechless, but you’re dying to know how he managed to get here. He was technically still on tour and this was not one of the passing by cities.

“How?” You ask.

“Hi to you too,” he said with a cheeky grin, to which you playfully slap his arm, and he responds with your friend’s name. He explained how he’d wanted to see you and how much he had to grovel for your friend to trust him. She’d helped him arrange a meeting with your boss, who turned out to be a huge fan of The Avengers, and even sneak them inside the building all under your nose. She wasn’t easy to persuade, but if she was convinced enough to work with Bucky on anything then you knew this meant something more.  

The initial notion of wanting to leave the party immediately vanished and you wanted nothing more than to just sit there in Bucky’s company all night. Steve and Sam greeted you and you never realized that this was actually the first time meeting them formally and not outside of a venue. They weren’t rockstars to you any more than you were just a fan to them. They were Bucky’s friends, of course he’d confined to them on his end as much as you did with yours.

At some point they had excused themselves to catch the last flight headed back to Brooklyn, but Bucky had decided to stay longer. When it was time to leave, you found out Bucky hadn’t planned long enough to where he would stay the night in your city. The original plan was to fly back home with the guys and pick up on the remainder of the tour. They had a few days off, but it was just a few days shy of ending, and he couldn’t wait that long to see you.

It’s funny how life works because this time you’re the one inviting him to your place. You weren’t going to blame it on the open bar or how late it was or the underlying tension that was surrounding you two, but one thing was certain, it was mutual, and you both weren’t going to deny the attraction any longer.

You’d missed the weight of Bucky’s body on yours more than you’d realized as your hands held his face, keeping his lips attached to yours. You could taste the remnants of the unfinished drink he’d abandoned at the coffee table on his tongue. Bucky’s hands hiked your leg over his waist to get you to lie flat on your couch.

You’re the first to attempt to remove clothing by popping open the buttons of his button-up shirt before completely ridding of the item leaving him in his thin undershirt. You feel his hands slide up from your hips along your back as they dig into the minimal space the arch of your back had created for him to slowly unzip the back of your dress. With your lips both still attached, you manage to sit up, your dress falling down and bunching at the waist in the process, exposing your breasts. He couldn’t have picked a more perfect time to see you in an outfit that would not work with a bra.

Bucky curses breathlessly when he pulls his lips away from yours for a quick breather, but in the process, he takes a peek at your half naked body. You can tell he’s just itching to touch you and you take the commanding lead and place his hands on you. The atmosphere grows thicker, him kneading your breasts, you smash your lips on his in a sloppy lock.

You push Bucky down on his end of the couch and manage to kick your loose dress all the way down your legs and off your body. Bucky’s hands travel down to the curve of your ass before he grabs a handful of flesh, causing you to moan into the kiss. Your hands rake through his styled hair, the product he used unstiffening and his hair falls limp in your grasps.

Bucky’s hands started to aid your hips in moving roughly against his clothed member, desperate to relieve some friction, and you internally blushed remembering how thick he was, how full it felt to have his cock stuffed inside of you. You didn’t remain celibate during the hiatus of your relationship, you both had urges, but Bucky had really ruined others that came after him.

Your lips drifted down Bucky’s body, kissing at the skin of his chest in the pattern following the swoop-line seam of the undershirt that he was still wearing. You skipped the expanse of his toned stomach, until you’re met with the small amount of skin that peeked between his bottoms and hem of his undershirt. You slightly lift the material up and place small pecks at his lower abdomen, which causes a low groan to rumble in Bucky’s throat.

Your fingers deftly unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants, with the zipper pulled apart, you’re marveling at the imprint of his hard cock, already twitching and staining his boxers. You manage to break your gaze and look up at Bucky, who is desperately pleading with you to proceed. Your eyes never leave his as you lower your head closer to his member, tongue darting out to the dark spot of his boxers, tasting the precum.

The contact causes him to squirm and lips form in a tight line. You pull down his pants and agonizingly peel off his boxers slowly, dragging it down to his thighs, just enough to expose him enough for you to work with before you wrap a hand around his length. Bucky’s upper body is supported by his bent elbows so he could watch you.

You kiss the tip of his leaking cock, a small string of his precum sticking to your lips when you pull back, to which you run your tongue over. Bucky’s head falls back just in time when your lips enclose the head, tongue twirling around the ridge and teasingly at the slit and loving the sound of his breath getting caught in his throat. You inch your mouth down his length and your vacant hand gets quick to work on what you’re not able to intake while the other runs up his exposed abdomen, your fingers curling in and lightly scratching down as it runs down to massage one of his thighs. You can feel the muscle in his thigh flex at your touch the more your head bobs up and down on him.  

A plethora of curses spew from his mouth, but the rush of sucking his cock, the gurgling of your spit mixed with his precum and occasional choking noise when your throat contracts around him, is all you can hear from your perspective. When you part from his member, you’re breathing intensifies, desperate for more air to enter your system, eyes slightly watering, lips swollen, your hand lazily slathering the wetness all over him.

“You’re so good at that,” Bucky comments and he finally manages to pick his head back up to look at you. He reaches forward to swipe at the mess on the corner of your chin, but you’re hungry for more, and you move your head to the side to suck on his thumb, eyes closed as you hum at the taste of his skin and essence.

Your soft tongue running against the pad of his somewhat calloused thumb, it pops lightly when you release the digit, a small, devious smile on your lips as you scoot away to lie on the other end of the couch. He’s almost at aghast by this, but even back then you were just always full of surprises around him and he wasn’t going to deny the appeal of your sexual allure.

Bucky is quick to get to your side, completely riding himself off the rest of his clothes - the undershirt, pants and boxers - he had dressed to impress but right now nothing more than but overdressed. He gently parts your legs, kissing up your calves and thighs, until settles between them, you can feel his warm breath fanning against your scantily covered core.

Unlike last time, you’re not afraid to watch him and he sends you a knowingly wink, quickly ascending up to give you a sweet kiss, while his fingers slip inside your panties and between your lips. Your hips eagerly thrust upwards hoping his fingers slip in.

“Baby, we got all night,” he says cradling your face in his other hand. You let out a small whine, but regardless attempt to be patient. Bucky studies your face, mesmerized by every structure and unique feature, then what felt like an eternity, but in reality, was only a few seconds, he sinks a finger inside your wet pussy.

As soon as the gasp leaves your lips, his lips swoop in and tongue instantly dipping in search of yours. The heated kiss only heightens the sensation in the pit of your stomach, your hips losing control and every buck up into his hand, your clit rubs up against his palm, invigorating it. The curl of his finger, lightly probs at the right spot inside you, you uncontrollably squeal against his lips, with a hand against his chest you gently push his body away from yours.

“Oh my God! Fuck, Bucky…” you say with your head tilting back to the curve of the couch’s arm. You feel Bucky’s lips kiss and suck at your exposed neck as his fingers continue their handy work, the lewd noises causing your eyes to roll back.

His lips find their way next to your ear, gently nipping at it, and you could just drown at the sound of his husky breathing and filthy words. “Can I taste you?” He asks. You’re not sure why he was asking, you’d want nothing less. You nod almost instantaneously before allowing him to remove your panties.  

Bucky’s hungry eyes remain fixated on your glistening core, “oh, I missed this pussy,” he comments before his tongue fondles the lips. He has a hand lying flat against one of your legs, pressed on the couch to keep them spread apart, the other blocked by his body. His routine contrasts his old with how his tongue moves in slow and calculated laps. His mouth was very talented, given whatever style he chose to play.

You’re tethering on an orgasm and Bucky wanted nothing more than to watch you come undone for him. Bucky’s fingers and tongue work in tandem and fast to help you reach a climax.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Bucky manages to ask in between, eyes peering up at you. You don’t actually answer because you can’t concentrate from the pleasure he’s bestowing and the impending release. “Good. I want you to cum. I want all this pussy has to give,” his voice hitting a different low, even his fucking voice was so sexy. Your hands clutch on fistfuls of the couch cushions when you feel the first wave of pleasure wash over your body, your hips stilled in place as Bucky laps up at your arousal.

“The sweetest thing ever,” Bucky mutters mostly to himself, but hearing that comment only feeds your ego, which never is a bad thing in an intimate setting. Your chest heaves up and down from the impact. Just as Bucky is about to crawl back up to parallel, you stop him with a foot at his chest. He grabs your small foot in his hand and blinks at your resistance.

“Sit back,” you command. He drops your foot and watches as your body maneuvers around to climb over his. He didn’t even realize his body had complied to your demand, absolutely hypnotized by you.

You lean in for a deep kiss, one that leaves his brain a mush, yours too almost that you have to steady yourself with one hand on the couch armrest. You reach a hand down between your bodies and grab a hold of his hard cock. Your fingers tracing along the vein before you start rubbing his head through your sensitive, wet folds. Bucky’s hands lay lightly on your hips, trying with all his might to not force you to take him all the way in. A large part of him liked this dominant side of you. There was so much about you he was dying to unearth.

“Baby, please…” he begins pleading as you barely press the tip of his cock just at your entrance before you slowly lower your body down to engulf his entire length. You sit still once you’re sure you’ve bottomed out, not noticing Bucky’s fingers digging into your hips, sure enough to leave crescent marks and tiny bruises.

Bucky’s face is buried in your neck, your cheek pressed against the top of his head, lost in the mop of dark hair. You feel his cock twitch inside of you causing your hips to ground on his. He was in so deep, you weren’t sure how long you were going to last in this position, but you’d be damned if you denied it.

You start with slow swivels before sliding back and forth on his cock. Bucky’s hands released their death grip from your hips, one travelled to the front to grope at your breasts while the other supported your body settling itself on the small of your back. Your hands set themselves on the back of the couch on either side of his head, using it as leverage to ground down harder on him.

“Mm, I missed fucking this big cock,” you lean down to whisper right in his ear, “you’re so deep, Bucky.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he spits out curse after curse at your dirty words. “You gonna cum on this big cock, hmm?” He asks. The question comes as a challenge and you weren’t ready to give up the ropes to him.

“Yeah, is this big cock gonna cum inside this tight pussy?” You counter the question, speeding up your gyrations until you start to feel the burn in your thighs and stomach begin to twist. He lets out a low, long growl, his eyes lulling shut and head falling back against the couch, ready to succumb to euphoria.

“No,” you say, suddenly ceasing all movements to pull at his hair. The sharp pain in his scalp causes his eyes to snap open and look up at you. “Keep your eyes on me,” you command much like how he did with you the first time. You watch him swallow the knot in his throat and give him a wicked smile before picking back up where you left off.

Your hands are sprawled on his sweaty chest as you bounce up and down his length. Bucky’s senses are on overdrive, the way your pussy naturally hugs his cock, walls squeezing occasionally, your breasts swaying right in front of him, your skin shining from the layer of sweat coating your body, and the look of immense pleasure written all over your face because of him.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he says over and over as some form of warning, hoping you’re not far behind.

The way his face contorted in ecstasy, lips parted, sweat building up on his forehead, the tip of his cock stabbing at your sweet spot, you were about to cum too. His words become a muffled mess when you attempt to silence him with a bruising kiss just as you reach your high, pussy clenching tight around his cock milking him of everything he’s got. Each spurt of his hot cum that shoots inside you causes your hips to stutter in response. Bucky attempts to keep them at bay with a hand pressed against your back, keeping your body close to him and in the process also instilling his seed is rooted deep inside of you.

“God...damn,” Bucky says short of breath when your body lies limp against his. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, you haven’t attempted to move just yet as you both sat there with his cock still buried in. When you manage to sit up, you stare back at Bucky with tired eyes, but there’s a smile on both your faces. It only slightly falters at his next words.

“I love you,” he says earnestly. Thankfully your silence doesn’t bother him, “...you don’t have to say it back,” he adds, “I just wanted you to know. You’re so special,” he proclaims and your heart leaps at the very admission. You only nod for now but give him another reassuring smile because in time you knew you could allow yourself to love Bucky and be loved by him in return. It wasn’t a conventional meeting, but this was your life, not everyone else's.

When you finally manage to pull yourself off his cock, it slips out fluidly with a trail of his cum following in suit. You knew you’d curse yourself later on, but you’re both too tired to clean the mess right now. The pair of you settle into a lying position, facing one another, encased in each other’s arms. It’s a moment of bliss as you both just lie there, his eyes closed and a smile seemingly permanently etched on his face, only around you.  

“Hey Bucky,” you pipe up breaking the silence. He hums in response, “I want to know something...” you start out with.

“Anything,” he says, eyes still closed, his hand running up and down your arm, an indicator that he’s present and listening.

“What happened between you two?” Curiosity getting the best of you once more, you’re hoping this doesn’t ruin the moment, but you had to know. What went wrong? Besides, if this was going to work, he was going to have to be honest.

“Uh, she saw something on my phone…” he said cautiously, “...that involved you.” Your eyes widen at that. It couldn’t have been the sex tape you hoped.

“Bucky, no!” You gasp, sitting up and just hoping he doesn’t confirm it.

“Relax!” He says pulling you back down with him, “She was psycho. She went through my texts and saw some of the photos we used to send to each other. She must’ve thought they were recent.” He explains like it was no big deal.

Your heart stops racing slightly, you’re a bit relieved that she didn’t go as far as posting any of the photos on the Internet. You knew you were risking it by sexting with Bucky, but what was that saying? Hell hath no fury…and in a blind rage, she lashed out only on Bucky, but if she was a psycho, who knows what else she might’ve found on Bucky’s phone.

“Bucky?” you figure you might as well know now.

“Yeah…”

“What did you do with that sex tape?” You’d been dying to know if it was safely stored away or if maybe he even still watched it or just deleted it.

A big toothy grin spreads across his lips, his pearly whites on full display as he laughs at the question before he reaches over to the table next to the couch, where his cell phone rested on.

“Want to make a sequel?” He asks suggestively with a smirk on his lips and waving his phone at you, to which you playfully attempt to snatch from his grasp. He’s too quick, but nonetheless he replaces the phone in its original spot before focusing his attention on you alone.

“You don’t think this is all weird?” He questions almost hesitantly while tracing the outline of your jaw delicately. You’re not thinking that at all. You’d both been through a lot during the last few years that the only thing that was normal now was what you both had.

You shake your head in response, too tired for words, and drowning in the blissful moment. Bucky nods before declaring, “good because you make so happy,” then ending the night with sweet kisses. 

“Hey, it’s me. I know you’re busy at the studio today...” you start, cell phone pressed against your ear. You’re attempting to leave a voicemail to your boyfriend, who was expecting your arrival later that day, “...but I just wanted to assure you that this isn’t weird, and I can’t wait to see you...I love you, Bucky,” you finish up the message and stuff the device into your bag just in time to hear the voice of the airline staff making the pre-boarding announcements booming loudly from the speakers.  

Now boarding Group B for flight #107 to JFK Airport...final destination Brooklyn, New York.

A/N: We’ve been in quarantine for so long, I don’t remember how airport announcements are like anymore and I was only in Brooklyn last Spring…RIP to the good times.

A happy ending was weird to write in the end and I actually don’t like this particular Bucky so it could’ve gone really bad, but I said to myself, no, not this time, I can do what the title says and let them be just that - happy. I too can be happy if you give this a like, reblog or comment! Thanks for reading!  

[itsbenedict]

I just finished hosting a 15-person game of Mafia for some friends. One tradition we have for these games is that every death is accompanied by some themed narration, so for my game I opted to spice it up with some art on top. Had to draw it real quick since I didn't know for sure who was going to die next until it happened.

The game's theme was "JoJo's Bizarre Adventure", with the hidden subtheme that all the roles (stands) were named after They Might Be Giants (@tmbgareok) songs! A list of their powers, links to songs, and a recap of the game under the cut.

01) Mogis - 「Flo Wheeler」

02) TD260 - 「Working Undercover For The Man」

03) JGH27 - 「Good To Be Alive」

04) Raya - 「Stone Cold Coup D'Etat」

05) KK / Sahrimnir - 「Thinking Machine」

06) Spontaneous Combustion - 「The Statue Got Me High」

07) Leviwulf - 「Push Back The Hands」

08) DarkFalco - 「I Am Alone」

09) Deli064 - 「Doctor Worm」

10) Fedaykin - 「Letterbox」

11) Surge - 「I Am Alone」

12) Wikxen - 「Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head」

13) Minby - 「Where Your Eyes Don't Go」

14) Bel - 「(She Was A) Hotel Detective」

15) SnakeInABox - 「By The Time You Get This」

Bold roles were Jotunheim (Mafia), normal roles were Johnsburg (Town), and italicized roles were third parties. (Jotunheim is the realm of giants from Norse mythology! The mafia were, in fact, giants! And the town's job was to figure out who might be giants! And the two sides were Jo and Jo! JOKES!)

「Flo Wheeler」 was a town role with a power that was pretty dangerous to the user- if anyone happened to be watching or tracking when a kill took place at night, Mogis would look like they'd visited the target that night in addition to whoever actually did. It could potentially be used to catch a mafioso in a lie, but otherwise it was more of an obstacle for the town to overcome- a miller-type role.

♪ You can't do the time, therefore you didn't do the crime ♪

「Working Undercover For The Man」 was a third-party role working for the Speedwagon Foundation to perform a threat assessment. TD could win with the town, but could win and leave early if he could guess all the names or powers of every other stand in the game. He could scan a name every night, to help that along.

♪ Planning midnight raids / On our unsuspecting fans / While the roadies rig / The video surveillance van ♪

「Good To Be Alive」 was a spin on the usual town doctor role- normally, a doctor can target a player and prevent their death if they would die that night. But... JGH couldn't actually prevent deaths- just fake it. The dead would become ghosts, who couldn't vote and couldn't be killed but were still allowed to talk as if they were alive.

♪ Hello leg / such a shaky leg / Just barely more than decoration ♪

「Stone Cold Coup D'Etat」 was a third party with an unusual win condition. They had to recruit a certain number of people to a private side-chat- and then make sure all those people got killed. Plus, she could redirect anything that happened to her at night to her recruits. If the recruits figured out what she was doing and got rid of her, they'd get a boost to their power.

♪ The bark now commands the trees / The queen is overruled by the bees ♪

「Thinking Machine」 was a town role with a mysterious purpose that didn't seem to make much sense at first. Sah would get, every morning, a strange series of numbers and letters of uncertain origin. It was information, somehow, but how to use it?

♪ Tape has brightening arm connect (Wait, that didn't make sense.) / Self-paint lever itching does! (That made even less sense!) ♪

「The Statue Got Me High」 was a mafia power. As the song describes, the victim is enthralled by the monolith and forced to obey its commands, until their eventual death. That is, Spont could recruit a player to the mafia, but they'd die one night later- and if he wasn't careful, he could die and his recruit would flip back.

♪ And now it is your turn (your turn to hear the stone and then your turn to burn) / The stone, it calls to you (you can't refuse to do the things it tells you to) ♪

「Push Back The Hands」 was a passive ability that caused anything that would happen to Levi- a nightkill, an execution, some other power- to be delayed by one day, giving him some time to react. He'd be told who it was that targeted him, so going after him as mafia was risky.

♪ Screeching tires but never a collision / Endless day without a sunset provision ♪

「I Am Alone」 was a weird one. See, DarkFalco, who was mafia, didn't have a stand as such. She was the stand- and she was the stand of Surge, who was town. They were linked together in everything, meaning the mafia had to work to keep Surge alive on top of their own people. She could send messages to Surge at night to mess with him, though.

♪ Before you fire I should inform you / One of us is a double ♪

「Doctor Worm」 had no real special abilities. His ability was to be pretty good at playing the drums, a power that had absolutely no relevance in a game of Mafia.

♪ I'm not a real doctor, but I am a real worm I am an actual worm ♪

「Letterbox」 was a mafia ability that let Fedaykin pick another player, and offer that player a chance to deliver a private message to one other player of their choice. He could see the "secret" communications, though, and once per game he could edit the message before delivering it.

♪ I'll never know what you'll find when you open up your letter box tomorrow ♪

「Put Your Hand Inside The Puppet Head」 is a classically mafia ability, but in the hands of a town player: the ability to force another player to vote for another. Normally the manipulated person isn't allowed to say what happened, but there was no such restriction here- confusion's no good for the town.

♪ Memo to myself: do the dumb things i gotta do: Touch the puppet head ♪

「Where Your Eyes Don't Go」 let Minby pick someone else to watch him at night. If anyone visited him to target him with an ability, the person he designated would be told the names of those people. A nasty trap for the mafia, as long as Minby doesn't pick a mafioso to share the information with.

♪ Where your eyes don't go, a part of you is hovering / It's a nightmare that you'll never be discovering / You're free to come and go / Or talk like Kurtis Blow / But there's a pair of eyes in back of your head ♪

「(She Was A) Hotel Detective」 was a very powerful town role- Bel was the cop, and could scan another player's alignment at night, plus track or watch them. Except... not directly. She couldn't scan players- she could scan hotel rooms, and if other players didn't check into the hotel at night or give up their room numbers, her information was useless.

Here are the room numbers, in order: Levi (1) Snake (2) JGH (3) TD (4) Spont (5) Sah (6) Deli (7) Fed (8) Minby (9) Falco/Surge (10) Raya (11) Wikxen (12) Mogis (13).

(Oh, and Thinking Machine's codes were actually encoded versions of her results, and Sah would get a weaker version of her power if she ever died.)

♪ She's got her ear to the walls / And she's tappin' the calls / If you've got a secret, boy / Forget about it! ♪

「By The Time You Get This」 imbued its wielder with the incredible powers of... an estate lawyer! Which meant Snake could leave a will behind when he died, naming another player and casting a vote on them from beyond the grave the next day.

♪ By the time you get this note / We'll no longer be alive / But our skulls are smiling still / At the thought of things to come ♪

So! Here's how it all shook out.

Day 1: The first day is always kind of a tossup, since no one has any information yet, and everyone's just trying to verbally stir the pot. Levi soft-claims his role right out the gate, warning town not to try targeting him or else. Mogis is executed, casting a vote on himself to save the town the trouble of dealing with Flo Wheeler.

Night 1: Spont uses the statue to recruit Wikxen, at the same time that Wikxen forces Snake to vote for Levi. So, now the usually-scum power in the hands of town is in the hands of scum for real. Bel scans room 3, and learns that its occupant is innocent. Raya recruits DarkFalco, and accidentally recruits Surge alongside her, to her surprise. JGH tries protecting Levi, to test if his claim was a bluff.

Day 2: Levi tries to push JGH on the basis of having targeted him last night, but everyone agrees to wait and see if Levi actually dies first. Votes circle around Wikxen and Raya for suspicious-seeming defensiveness on Day 1, and ultimately, when it seems like Wikxen's about to be executed, a small group of players flip their votes at the last minute and vote Raya out while she's asleep and can't defend herself. Rude! She was poised to win the game for herself and the town, since she'd convinced Falco that the mafia would benefit somehow if they were all recruited.

Night 2: The mafia kills Minby- and Minby opts to tell have Fed watch him, wasting his power. Lucky for town, though, Bel happens to scan room 8, confirming Fed is mafia since he volunteered his room number. Wikxen's coat contains a furnace where there used to be a guy.

Day 3: Wikxen forced Snake to vote for J, making him look bad- but Sah begins sharing his bizarre results from Thinking Machine, and Bel confirms that they're a log of her detective power. Then she points out that Fed is mafia, and the town falls in line behind the accusation with Sah to confirm.

Night 3: Spont uses the statue to recruit Bel, to keep any more problematic scans from ruining them. Bel, before being recruited, scans room 10, though- and now the town knows there's something funky with Falco and Surge, because Sah gets the results and knows what they mean. Due to their mismatched alignments, though, the encoded version is still misleading, so there's wiggle room. TD scans Spont and learns his role name.

Day 4: Spont concocts a daring scheme. He has Bel lie and claim to have received an incriminating result on him- so that Bel will be caught in said lie when Sah produces his own results. The plan is to frame Bel, who's a dead girl walking anyway, and clear Spont's name going forward. But the town talks themselves into explaining away the contradiction- even when TD reveals Spont's stand name, and Spont denies it outright and claims 「Combustible Head」, a fake vigilante (town nightkiller) role instead, the town explains away that, too. After a few more people claim, TD260 has completed his mission- his correct guess wins him the game and he leaves. Spont cleverly excuses himself by claiming that TD lied about his role to get him to claim his "real" one. Afterwards, the town ends up executing Deli064 instead, for some reason- poor Doctor Worm!

Night 4: The evidence vanishes from Bel's charred and smoking chair- because JGH tries to protect her at the same time the mafia are killing him! Bel is a ghost now, and the town never finds out her alignment.

Day 5: Bel not dying poses a problem for the mafia, because Spont was supposed to prove his own innocence by pretending to kill her! The mafia tries to misdirect by having Bel lie again, claiming to scan room 10 when she actually scanned room 6, Sah. Ultimately, though, the town is able to coordinate behind killing Surge and Falco, which- because they're linked- is a compromise option that both parties are happy with (when perhaps they shouldn't be).

Night 5: Since Bel is technically dead, Spont recruits again, grabbing Sah and removing the threat of scans entirely. If he'd recruited Snake instead, they'd have won on the spot, since only his will-vote prevented them from winning instantly due to outnumbering the town. We move on to a somewhat redundant...

Day 6: It's now down to five players- Spont, Sah, and Bel vs Levi and Snake. The mafia technically outnumber the town, but Bel's vote doesn't count, and Sah's going to burn the next night- so the town can still win by forcing a tie and then using Snake's By The Time You Get This power to place a vote on Spont. But that's if they can figure it out and get on the same page, and... they don't. There's no way there could be three mafia still alive, so the mafia are able to sow total confusion and ultimately get the town all voting for Bel... who's a ghost, and can't vote or be executed, which the town doesn't know because JGH died before he could fully explain. The execution defaults to Snake, and the mafia win the game.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Sex Tape

Pairings: Johnny Depp x Reader

Request: “ If you take requests, would you consider doing johnny reaction to like theirs sex tape getting leaked? Reader may also be a celebrity or not. Whatever you prefer “ - @fanficshitandother 

Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual smut

Word Count: 1800

A/N: Sorry this one is so short. I was having a harder time writing it than I thought I would. I hope you enjoy!

__________________________________

Shit. 

You knew this was a bad idea when he suggested it but no. He just had to have this video “for when he was away filming.” It always ended like this, though, right? It always started out as fun and games until bam! Celebrity sex tape leaked! 

The gossip talk show video that your best friend had sent you was still playing on your phone and you watched in silent horror as the red haired woman talked about your sex life to her male counterpart as if she had any actual right to have an opinion. In the top corner was a picture of you and Johnny at the red carpet for the premier of the Crimes of Grindelwald, his arm around your waist and both of you smiling for the paparazzi pictures. “Okay, guys. You are going to want to hear this,” She started, clasping her absurdly long acrylic-clad fingers together and holding onto her knees, “So there has been yet another sex tape leaked and I want you to guess who’s it is.” She looked over to her co-host. He had a push broom mustache that was bleached blonde to match his hair. 

The man hummed before waving his hand, which also donned long yellow acrylics, “I swear, Laurel, if this is another Kardashian or Paris Hilton tape, I’m gonna scream. That’s such old news.” 

“Actually, it’s someone that I certainly didn’t expect. Johnny Depp and his wife, Y/N L/N.” She dropped the news and the co-star’s mouth dropped. 

“Are you serious? Like Jack Sparrow, Sweeney Todd, Willy Wonka, Johnny Depp?” He asked in total shock, “I didn’t expect that either! But you know what? I feel like he’d be really good in bed.” 

He and Laurel both laughed, “You’re so bad!” She squealed, hitting him with the paper notes in her hand, “But, between you and me,” She leaned in, as if she was telling an actual secret that wasn’t being broadcast on the internet, “I did see it.” 

“And?” 

“It was pretty hot, I can’t lie. That Y/N is a very lucky girl indeed.” The pair giggled like a pair of school girls. 

You were absolutely mortified. How did this happen? How many people had seen it? Who had seen it? Oh God… all you could imagine was your family stumbling across the video or, debatably worse, Johnny’s kids. This had to be one of the worst moments of your life. 

You turned off the video and quickly dialed your husband. “Hello, love.” He greeted cheerily on the other end. The faint sound of cars passing in the background told you he was probably driving home from the meeting he had been at. 

“Did you see it? Did you hear it?” You asked frantically. 

“What?” He asked, confused.

“The video! The video got leaked!” You ran your fingers through your hair messily, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. 

“What video?” He questioned, not sounding like he fully understood what had happened, but then you could almost feel the weight of realization falling on him, “Wait, our video?” 

“Yes! Our video!” You were yelling at this point, not at him but at the situation and thankfully he understood that. 

“Okay, okay. We’ll- Hang on my manager is calling. Probably to tell me about it. I’ll be home in five minutes. I love you.” He signed off your call quickly before hanging up without giving you the chance to respond. 

While you waited for him to get there, you spiraled down the rabbit hole that was the tabloids and social media. Your phone buzzed off the charts as everyone from your sister to Helena Bonham Carter called you to ask if you were okay. Of course, you weren’t. But it was one phone call from a former college roommate, Sheila, had really gotten your blood boiling. 

“It’s okay! If anything, this is just going to make you more famous! Look at all the other celebs who’ve had their sex tapes leaked. They’re like, super famous.” Sheila sounded more excited than she should have, which certainly made you question her motives behind calling you in the first place. Since marrying Johnny, you’d had the unfortunate displeasure of having to cut a few people off from your past who had randomly called you up after years of little to no contact, asking more favors in the movie industry, money, or even just for the clout of saying they knew you. There really was such a downside to this whole marrying famous person thing that nobody ever really talked about - not that you would take it back, though, of course. You loved Johnny more than anything. 

Still, when the words left her mouth, you felt a flash of anger swell up, “Contrary to what a lot of people might believe, being famous actually kind of sucks,” You spat angrily, “And call me crazy, but I don’t exactly feel thrilled at knowing the whole world as access to a video of my naked ass!” 

“At least it’s a good naked ass, though! Your boobs are looking pretty good too. Did you get them done?” She asked bluntly, still not a care to be heard in her voice. You swore you could almost detect a fake valley girl accent too. 

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief at the words coming from her voice, “I can’t believe you.” Without giving her a chance to respond, you clicked the off button before flipping her off through the screen, though you knew she couldn’t see it. The audacity of some people. 

The front door swung open, drawing your attention as Johnny hurried into the house, setting his bag down by the front door. “How bad is it?” You asked, knowing his manager must have told him the full extent. 

“Do you want the truth?” Johnny saw as panic and humiliation swept across your face, knowing that perhaps that wasn’t the best way to break it to you that it was pretty bad. He stepped forward and wrapped you in his arms, “I told Harrison to take ‘em down. Whenever he found one, he said he’d get it deleted. 

You sighed defeatedly, “That doesn’t stop the fact that a bunch of people already saw it.” Your arms wrapped around Johnny’s torso and you allowed your head to fall against his chest, trying to calm yourself with his scent- exotic spicy cologne and old books. 

His large hand came to stroke through your hair, “That is true,” He conceded with a heavy breath, “But, it also means that fewer and fewer people will continue to see it.” There was a pause in which neither of you said anything, only took a few minutes to hold onto each other while you thought about the future now, “Y’know, I can’t help but feel like this is partly my fault. I shouldn’t have asked to make the video. I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

You shook your head in disagreement, “I agreed to do it too. It’s on both of us. In retrospect, we should have put it on an actual VHS tape or something that would be more difficult to get into the tabloid’s hands.” 

You were tired of this - of this constant running from the vultures that prayed off your every misstep just to turn them against you and create headlining stories. You felt like you couldn’t even breathe without a scandal unless the media allowed it. You were just grateful that you happened to marry one of the most private actors in Hollywood, knowing that whatever pressure you felt, more public figures like Angelina Jolie had it much worse. Still, something inside you stirred, a decision that you’d stop living in fear. 

Johnny pulled back and gave you that infamous cocked eyebrow look of wonder, one that you’d mostly seen him use as Jack Sparrow. Little did everyone know, it was a gesture he’d picked up on doing in real life as well. “Do we even have a VHS player anymore?” 

You chuckled and buried your head back into his white shirt, “I don’t even know. I feel like there must be one laying around somewhere. And if not, I’ll go down to a pawn shop and pick one up just for you to use while filming.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” You leaned back, pulling on his shirt to bring him down closer to your level, “That if we’re going to be making you another one of these videos, it’s gonna be on something that stays only between us.” 

Your husband nearly choked on air, “Another one? After what just happened?” 

“Only if you want to and only if it stays on something physical like a CD or VHS that we can mutually agree to burn and destroy if anything happens.” You giggled and Johnny joined in with a low chuckle as well, “But… the video was leaked. We knew that was a risk when we made it. But, y’know what? I’m tired of living in fear of the paparazzi and public. They’ve already seen us fuck. There’s not much else we’ve got to lose.” 

His dark eyes flashed with mischief before he took off in a light jog down the hall without a word. You followed him, “Where are you going?” You giggled, turning the corner to find him digging through your little Harry Potter closet under the stairs. 

When he stood up, he shook his long hair out of his eyes messily and held up an old tape recorder that had to be at least twenty years old. Johnny swayed towards you, jokingly flirtatious as he spoke, “Well, Mrs. Depp, it would seem that you’re in luck because your husband likes to hoard old shit.” 

The grey and black machine seemed to stare at you and some hesitation set in again but then you remembered what you’d said: I’m tired of living in fear… there’s not much else we’ve got to lose. 

Johnny flicked open the side compartment and his eyes opened in surprise to find a tape still in there. He lifted it from the slide and looked it over, shocked to see that it appeared to be an unused blank tape, “Well, well, looks like we’re in luck.” 

Biting your lip, you looked up at him with those eyes before grabbing his hand and running upstairs to your bedroom, dragging him along. “The world thinks they’ve seen us fuck. They only got a preview.” 

“Only a preview? I thought we went pretty hard last time?” He countered with a low challenging laugh.

You turned around at the top of the stairs, one hand on the banister as you turned to face him. His body collided with yours, his hand reaching around the small of your back to steady the two of you and you arched your body into his, being sure to brush your body against his groin, “Oh, Johnny… we’re both throwing our backs out tonight.” 

[neo-culture-mafia]

Nct Dream Reaction to You Coloring Their Tattoos

Mark:

“You have got to be kidding me.” He deadpanned as he saw you walk towards him with a bucket of markers. “Nope. Now relax. I’m gonna make you pretty.” You booped his nose and sat next to him on the couch. His notebook laid on his lap as you picked what colors to use on the mean looking dragon that made its home on his forearm. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.” “Making you pretty?” 

He could only sigh. “They have very important meanings-” “I’m naming the dragon, Binguu.” He gave up on the matter and let you have your fun. He was praying to a higher being that he wasn’t called out on any important mission or meeting anytime soon. “Whatever you do. Don’t use pin-” He looked down to see you coloring in the dragon with hot-pink, “pink.” his voice trailed off. 

You shrugged and continued your latest task.

Mark grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels of the TV silently. He would get lost in the feeling of the markers going across his skin.

“It’s pretty though.” “Yes, it is, honey. Very pretty.”

Renjun: 

He should’ve seen it coming at some point. He told himself that he wasn’t going to let you do it and that he would put his foot down. They were important to him and sacred in his mind...but you were too...needless to say that his plan didn’t work out too well. 

Renjun had helped you get through an anxiety attack and you were just trying to forget about it. So, in order to keep yourself busy, you pulled out your markers and paper. Yet, it got boring and the thoughts started to seep into your mind once again. 

You started drawing a small flower on Renjun’s hand which was coloring his own page respectively. He froze and stared at the new blue-lopsided flower on his hand. He just looked at you to read your emotions. “What are you doing?” Was all he asked. No emotions. No tone. Just a simple question. “What? You don’t like it?” Your eyes began to get misty again and he couldn’t bear to see you cry anymore. 

“No. I think it’s pretty. I just wanna know why you drew it on me.” He laughed lightly. “Pretty people deserve pretty things.” You shrugged and his heart twinged. “I totally agree.” He smiled as he continued to draw on his paper. 

You carried on coloring the tattoos on his hands, making sure to not get the color on his rings. He put down his own pens and markers to just admire you color his tattoos and draw on his arm. He smiled as you drew little soldiers fighting the dragon on his forearm.

“How’d you draw that?”

[ a/n: he’s literally so adorable I don’t understandddddd]

Jeno:

Jeno didn’t mind, honestly. You were babysitting some children of the older members and decided coloring was how you would occupy the little ankle biters.

He was sitting at his desk doing work on his computer when he heard shuffling outside the door. He tuned his ears in and looked down to see multiple shadows under his door.

“Now we have to be quiet so Uncle Jeno doesn’t hear us.” He heard your voice say loudly enough for him to get the jist of what you were trying to do. He went back to what he was doing as he could see the door open in his peripheral vision. He saw you and the group of kids army crawl towards his desk with markers in hand. 

He sighed once he knew what was coming. 

He then felt the felt-tipped attack on his legs.  ‘Shorts were a terrible choice’ was all he thought.

Jeno could hear the children’s giggles as his heart filled with joy. He saw you creep around the desk and sit next to him. You started coloring in the tattoos on his thigh as he flicked your forehead, “What are you doing?” He mouthed. “Helping. Now shh.” You motioned and he could only chuckle at your childishness. 

A solid 20 minutes later you yawned and stood up. “Retreat! He saw us!” You yelled and all the children ran out screaming and yelling, marker-stained hands holding their weapons. You leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Back to work.” You rubbed his back before walking back out of his office door. He put his glasses on and stared at his monitor. Jeno put on his best shocked voice as his hands wrote down chemical formulas in his notebook.

“oH No wHAt hApPEnEd To mY LeGS?!”

[he’s so adorableeeee. ugh such a cutie-patootie]

Donghyuck:

He simply just laughed in your face when you asked. “No. Now go. The match is about to start.” He shoo’ed you away as he put his gaming headphones back on his head. You were pouty now. You just wanted to color his tattoos...not rob a bank with him. 

“Lele please choose your player already.” Hyuck groaned and scrolled through his phone mindlessly until the countdown began. You were pissed now. It was his day off and he was ignoring you. “You're so annoying.” You pouted as you walked out of the bedroom. 

This wasn’t going to end here. You were going to get the final say even if it killed you. 

You could hear Hyuck shouting in his room at the monitor. You grabbed your markers, snacks, and one of your stuffed animals and then army crawled back in to the bedroom. You went undetected as you rolled close to the gaming chair and started silently searching. For what? a chord that could be used as a makeshift rope. 

The PC wire would have to do as you strapped his ankles down to the chair. He went unbothered as you uncapped the first marker. It was as if he was completely zoned out of reality. Your markers made shapes and colored in the permanent images. A good half an hour went by of snacking and coloring.

“Alright, I’ll see you guys tomorrow at training.” You heard your husband say goodbye to his friends and before you could stop him, he managed to push away from the table and was already staring at you. 

You laid curled up under his gaming desk with markers and a snack in hand. He didn’t look the happiest as he slouched in his chair and leaned his head on his hand. His eyebrow stay raised as he only stared you down with no intention of speaking. 

“Uh...want a cookie?” You asked with a sheepish smile. But he wasn’t laughing.

 “5.” You looked down to your package of cookies and realized there were only a couple left. “I...I don’t have that-” “4.” You were confused as you stared at the 3 in the package. “3.” A dawn of realization overcame you as you scrambled to try and untie his legs. Your fear washed over you when he could easily pull on the chord and his feet were free. 

“Gotta go-” “2.” You got up and started sprinting out of the door. You heard footsteps come behind you and then silence. 

“I KNEW YOU WERE DOING IT BUT YOU COULD HAVE AT LEAST TRIED HARDER.” His voice echoed down the hall as it chased your laughs. “I WONDER IF YOUR STUFFED ANIMALS WANT TATOOS ALSO.” Your laughing had stopped and you started sprinting back down the hall as the door slammed in your face.

You started banging on the door relentlessly. “YOU BETTER NOT TOUCH MR.BUBBLES! I WILL SACRIFICE YOU TO THE UNDERWORLD HYUCK I SWEAR ON MY LI-” The door opened suddenly and you fell into the arms of Donghyuck. 

“I was just joking. Calm down, cutie.” He ruffled your hair as he held you in his arms for a moment. 

“Not funny.” You pouted. “Awe look at you.” He pinched your cheek and you swatted his hand away. “Oh don’t be like that.” He held you tighter. “Come on let’s go cuddle and then I can help you finish coloring my tattoos.” He scooted over and slammed you both on the bed in a tangle of blankets and cuddles. 

He started kissing all over your face just to see you annoyed and flustered with all the attention. His laugh was music to your ears as he ended up just laying comfortably on top of you. 

“I’ll help you make them actually look nice.” 

Jaemin:

“Hell would freeze over before I let you near my tats with any of those markers.” Jaemin called as you followed him down the hall to the shared bedroom. “Pretty please?” You asked one more time drawing out the last syllable. “No.” Was all he said as he dove onto the bed. 

You came up with a devious plan. If he were to catch you, it would be the worst ending to this wish you had in your mind since first sight of his tattoos. They were a color page waiting to be filled in. The desire got too much. It was happening once and for all. 

You went into Jae’s work bag to get rope and to see if he has handcuffs. Just rope and duct tape. This was going to have to be quick. “Jaemin!” You called from the kitchen in a panicked voice. You heard a thud and a curse before footsteps rushing towards where you were sat with the rope. 

“What happened, prin-” Before he could get the last word out, you hopped on his back and pushed him down to the ground. Your hands guarded his head as he landed with an ‘oof’. “I thought I wouldn’t have to do this.” You said trying to grab his arms. You rethought your plan once again as it dawned on you what he did for a living. “Whoops.” Was all you got it before it registered. 

Jaemin pushed himself up off the floor and throwing you off of his back just to pin you against the ground. His knee came up to squish your arms against your back as his hand pushed your head onto the floor. 

“Why would you do that?!” He realized what he did a little too late and released some of his pressure on you. “I was gonna tie you up and color on you!” You wheezed as your face was still smooshed against the carpet. “You’re still on this?!” “I’ve been on this since I have seen them but now you’re on me and its getting hard to breathe. Get off!” You called and he immediately took his knee off your back and arms. He helped you up with a laugh at your disheveled state.

“If it’s this serious to you then it’s fine. I don’t mind.” He smoothed your hair out just to pinch your cheek softly.

~~

“It’s been 3 hours can I get up now?” Jaemin groaned. “I still have rug burn on my face.” “You’ve been coloring on my back for too long.” He whined and you sighed getting off his back and sitting next to him. “Fine. I’m done.” You pouted. He got up and ran towards the closest mirror. He was actually pretty surprised on how much he liked it.

He could see his koi fish having new designs and more detail.

“...you did good-” “great.” “yeah whatever. don’t get a big head, princess. your crown won’t fit.”

Chenle:

Lele didn’t know you would go as far as you did.

“I don’t think that’s what they’re...” He could see how excited you were. You had walked up to him with a bucket of markers and an innocent smile. “I don’t think that’s what they’re for.” He laughed nervously.

You groaned and sat next to him. “You’re no fun.” You pouted and he could only shrug. “Oh well, y/n.” He pecked your cheek as you both watched the movie he had turned on. 

~~

2 hours later and Chenle was passed out. This was the most perfect time to get away with your master plan. You shimmied out of his grip and slipped down to the floor where you picked up your marker bucket and quietly searched for the perfect color. You found a crystal blue and knew it was destiny for you to color the dragon this cool blue. You uncapped the marker and moved closer to his sleeping body. 

Yet, before you could even come 5 cm from his skin, his hand came to grip your wrist harshly. He was shocked he did that himself as he was trying to piece together the small puzzle. He saw you, the marker, and his clear skin and sighed as he knew that you hadn’t gotten away with it yet. 

He groaned and laid down on his back where his arms were under his head. It was silent for only a moment before he slipped his arm out of his hoodie and letting it hang off the side of the couch.

“Please don’t make a mess, baby.” He whispered and you smiled as you uncapped your marker and started to color in the designs slowly and with grace. You didn’t notice how Lele looked at you lovingly as time passed slowly. His alertness slipped your mind as you got lost in your own little world until his voice made you jump.

“I would have used pink myself, but nice artistic choice.”

Jisung:

“ONLY...if I can help.” His one condition made your heart leap. “Of course!” You threw the markers at him and started to lay your color palette down on his arm. “Did you name any of them?” You asked and he looked at you only for a moment. “Name who- What?” You pointed to his arm to the fox and dragon. He chuckled but shook his head, ‘no’.

“Okay so I’m going to name them.” You started rambling on and he just watched in awe. “...I thought you were helping.” You said as you noticed him not helping like he said he would. “Oh. Uh. Yeah.” He picked up a random marker but you didn’t catch him after that.

At one point he had his free hand under his head as you worked on filling his arm with color. He didn't have a lot of tattoos but he still had a enough for you to keep busy for a couple hours. 

“Did you get Jeno’s homework done yet?” He messed up your hair and you groaned. “Yeah. Did you?” “No. I couldn’t find the conversion charts.” You tsk’ed as you completed a drawing on his arm. 

He laughed as he looked down to see ninjas swinging and flipping off of his fox and onto his dragon just to fall off and splat against his watch. “Clever.” he said but you weren’t done. You continued the task and he made small talk as you colored and drew more. 

“Now this is important.” You pointed a finger at him as the marker worked quickly. “What’s important?” His eyebrow raised. “Don’t smear the red. It takes a little while to dry-” “Like this.” As he began to smear the red on your cheek. “Jisung no!” You groaned as you tried to wipe the dye off just for it to smear more.

“Ah you’re so adorable.” He pulled you to lay next to him as you retaliated with a bold red stripe on his cheek just for him to start rubbing his cheek on your’s. “This totally sucks.” You tried to push him away with no luck.

“No this feels pretty nice to me.”

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Hiiiiii can I please request a Paul x plus size reader??? Something fluffy with heaps of PDA if you don’t mind. I just know this man loves the squish

Of course! I know it doesn't have much actual pda, but I couldn't really figure out a solid comprehensive plot that would partially take place at the boardwalk, so I went with this. I hope you like it!💜💜💜

----------------

I wasn't sure what woke me up. Maybe it was the fact that the sun had gone down half an hour ago, or the music playing in the lobby. Maybe it was the music playing in our room - I sighed softly as I turned, slowly opening my eyes. Paul smiled at me, his hands drawing patterns on mine.

"What are you doing?" I asked with a soft smile, looking at him.

"Waiting for you to wake up, mainly."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I figured we just stay in tonight, watch some movies - sounds good?"

"Are you sure you don't want to go out?"

"Babe, come on - why would I? We went yesterday, besides I just really want to watch a movie tonight, and I know that if we go to the boardwalk it won't be morning before we'll be back. Also, it will rain tonight and I figured a night in would be nicer."

I chuckled, smiling. "What movie did you have in mind?"

"I have no idea, I kind of ran in, grabbed blindly and ran out?"

"You robbed Max? Again?"

He chuckled, turning the TV on. "He wont mind. Well return them this time."

"But-?"

"I'm thinking of switching the tapes from the tapeholder."

I laughed, shaking my head. "One of these days he'll be through, you know?"

"Probably," he grinned, picking up a tape. "Breakfast club, nightmare on Elmstreet or - what's this, oh- Back to the future."

"Just 'randomly' grabbed, hm?" I smiled, realising he picked some of my favourites.

"Yep, I just got lucky," he put the breakfast club into the player, turning it on. "I also got us some breakfast," he said, pointing at the unconscious human in our bedroom. "This way we don't have to go out."

I chuckled, kissing him softly. "Want to join me?"

After breakfast, and the -luckily not so messy - cleanup of it, we continued to watch the movie. It had started to rain outside like Paul had predicted. I laid against him, my head on his chest as he had an arm wrapped around me. The other was brushing through my hair. A blanket laid over the two of us.

As the movie ended, I noticed the rain was still pouring down.

"You know," I looked up with a smile, "I've never danced in the rain before."

"Sing in the rain you mean?"

"That too."

Paul chuckled, taking my hand. "Well, that's easily solved, babe!"

"Can I at least put my shoes on?"

"And miss out on some perfectly fine rain? Come on!"

He practically ran outside, taking me along with him. He ran through the cave, up the wooden stairs - until we were on the field of the bluff. He took my hands in his, guiding me in a dance - all the while singing a song, I vaguely recognised. It took a while, but then it clicked. It was the sing that had played on our first date. I smiled, feeling flustered by it all. I let him guide me through this dance, stepping when he did, stopping when he did. Eventually, when the rain poured even harder than before, and both of us were soaked through our bones, we stopped. We stared at each other, and could do nothing else but laugh. Hugging each other, screaming out in joy as cold water poured upon us.

At some point we ran back inside, seeking shelter for the rain. Paul had filled a bath with warm water, and some nice smelling soap. He kissed me softly as I went in, his hand brushing through me hair. "Mind if I join?"

"Payment is one kiss," I said with a grin, smiling as he gave me one. He got in behind me, his legs wrapping over mine, his head resting on my shoulders as he laced them with kisses.

"We should do this more often," I smiled as we watched our third movie that night. He laid against me, kissing me softly.

"Yeah?"

"Definitely."

[starshipsofstarlord]

Young and Dumb | Part 2

“I believe I first met you in my parents’ pharmacy. I’m sure you don’t need the map to find it, everyone has the knowledge of where it is.  I was helping my mum restock the shelves, and you came in with a black hoodie and sunglasses on. Obviously, you didn’t want to be recognised, or maybe you did, who knows.

I asked if there was anything you needed help with, and your eyes went wide behind the expensive frames. From your posture, it was clear that you were unsettled by something. This something meant a lot to you, and you were nervous in telling me, a stranger.

It had only been the first week or two of school since I moved, so I didn’t blame you for that. The blame comes later on in this story. But I took an interest in you, not when you were getting all of that attention that you seemed to draw instantly when you walked through the halls of school, but when you were trying your best to avoid any of it.

I know that you knew who I was, you knew Justin, and Zach… and Bryce. You also seemed to become Jessica’s new bestie when we split ways, in a strange way, when the two of you connected, I felt as though you had stolen something from me.

But again, it was her choice to invite you to her house to study, and invite her to the parties that she threw. Courtney even told me that Jess always asked you what she should wear before they started, and now I understand how her fashion had improved significantly.”

Clay paused the tape as Tony pulled up beside him, and the teenager instinctively threw the door open and climbed into the passenger’s side. He pushed the headphones down to his neck as he looked at his friend, who appeared to be studying him far too closely for his liking.

“What?” He breathed, throwing his head back into the seat of the vehicle. Everyone was watching him, they had all had the tapes before him, so they knew that he was listening to their sins. And then also, they knew his. Both sides held the ammunition, even more so since he had yet to discover the case against him.

“Which tape are you on?” Tony was blunt, but he had an idea as he saw Clay’s interest as you walked out of the front doors, Jess on one side and Sheri on your other. It had to be one of you three, yet he was aware of how slow Clay was processing each record of information.

“12 side A.” He answered, his blue eyes drilling into you as you threw your head back in laughter. It wasn’t fair that you had the ability and will to do that after everything, Hannah was still waiting to be buried. Sometimes people were too inconsiderate of those who were lower down on the social food chain than them.

“Don’t judge her before you hear the entire tape. It’s complicated, and messy, and Hannah was not the only victim.” That intel made Clay’s eyes widen in fear. There had been another victim exposed on this tape, and it was disgusting, cruel. Evil.

“Not like Jess was?”

“God no. Thank God no.” Tony answered, looking in his side mirror as you walked away, and joined your boyfriend in his car. “But you better buckle up Clay, that side of the tape is long. Hannah sure had a lot of things to say about (Y/N), some good. Others not so much…”

Clay took out the tape from the player and inserted it in the car. If it was complicated, then Tony could explain it to him. He would still get mad and require a word in private with you, but he needed another opinion. One from an outsider, from someone who didn’t know Hannah as well, although, admittedly Clay didn’t know as much about her as he would have liked to have thought.

“That day though, when we first met gave me the impression that you didn’t thrive off of all of the attention. You liked your alone time, which I could relate to, more than anyone would know. It made me think that no one knew the real you, but I wanted to.

‘Can I help with anything?’ I asked, expecting you to be confident like you were with answers in class, but instead you wrung your hands, and your mouth opened repeatedly, trying to find words but somehow you had lost them. ‘(Y/N).’ I said, which caught your attention finally.

Your disguise clearly had not worked, so you removed the shades, but the hood stayed up. I was relieved to see the lack of a black eye or tears, I knew from then on that you just felt awkward. This was not a predicament that you had found yourself in before.

‘Actually, I’m looking for something’ It was more of a mumble that clear speech, but I still heard, and was happy that I did. I wanted to help, then maybe I could befriend you, and then change my image at Liberty.

‘What?’ Before you answered, you looked terrified, so I grabbed your hands and held them. It seemed to calm you a little, but you still had the instinct to look around to check for other people. My mum had went to the back to grab more stock, so it was just us. You and me, but now I speak this stood alone. There is no one here, just cold walls that don’t even want to move closer to me.

So, those of you who are listening, you can already tell that she created distance between me and her. I bet no one even knew that you had been a great support system once, until it was decided that we should keep our space.

‘Condoms.’ Was your quiet response, you appeared uncomfortable in saying it. At that time or before, I would have assumed that you had no problem with purchasing the contraception, seeing as everyone was far too familiar with you and Scott Reed in the hallways.

‘This way.’ I led you, and it got me thinking. Had you never bought a box before? Was it Scott’s duty that he had failed to uphold, and here you were, running in, when you were in the most need for one?

We got to the aisle, and you haphazardly stared at the selection of the stock. Your eyes were wide, and your mind was turning. ‘Are you okay?’

At my voice you smiled, looking back and forth between me and your necessity. And finally you told me your problem, which did not seem to be troublesome at all. But this was where it all started, it finishes somewhere very different. 

‘I, uh, don’t know which ones to get.’ You appeared embarrassed in confiding this in me, and it really did make me think that you left the buying of them to Scott, until... ‘Me and Scott have never... you know. This was supposed to be a surprise, clearly not a very good one if I don’t know what frickin condoms to but.’

You were definitely embarrassed, your hands were raking through your hair, and there were tears holding back in your eyes. My hand caressed your shoulder and convinced you to look at me.

‘You’re both virgins?’ I asked rather bluntly, and you nodded shamefully. But you had nothing to be ashamed of, even if the news did shock me. The two of you fooled me, and could have fooled anyone considering your relationship. ‘Hey, that’s not a bad thing.’ I was a virgin too, even if others were led to believe differently. ‘It’s all new to the both of you, he’ll love the surprise, and he’d be stupid not to.’

Maybe I shouldn’t have convinced you to go ahead with your plan, but I did anyway. In this moment, you seemed like a nice girl, one who needed guidance rather than the flocks of followers that you were prone to having.

I scanned the selection, and grabbed the most suitable brand. ‘These would be best, just normal, like this and eventually that exchange.’

Clay paused the record as he saw that were at his house. He was astounded by the news of how late you and Scott were to blossoming sexually. There was a large difference between the pair of you and your so called friends.

“Did you know?” The investigator asked Tony, revelling in the newfound, yet old gossip.

“Don’t judge a book by it’s cover Jensen.” He told him. The boy was in for a ride, it was a long tape, for some reason, the longest one.

A/N: Sorry for the formation, I couldn’t add a read more button or a pic. So it’s just like this x

[intu-witch-tion]

(Resend) Prompt : You/reader bump into Pedro Pascal bump into one another in NYC (coffee shop, bar, club, etc. during the day/night, your choice) and then... whatever! It could be something a simple as he asks you out or a steamy one night stand!

No Funny Business (Pedro Pascal x Female Reader)

Word Count: 5.9K (well, shit. My bad, I guess.)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, gambling, fluff, teasing, smut, P in Va-G sans condom (be safe, friendos.)

Notes: I took this idea and morphed it into something else I have been thinking on. Essentially I wanted to capture a full date night with Pedro. With a happy ending, if you catch my drift. 😂 😘

7:21pm

“There’s a party tonight. And we’re going.” Your roommate spouted as she walked in the door. You had just moved to California in an effort to start over and one of your long-time friends, Sarah, had offered for you to stay with her until you got on your feet. She worked as a camera technician on big movie sets in Hollywood so it was no shock that she knew about all the who’s who parties in the area. However, it had only been a few weeks since you arrived and developing a social life was honestly the last thing on your mind as you looked at all the boxes that needed unpacking.

“Did you hear me?” Her insistent voice rang out from the kitchen as her keys flung onto the counter. You grinned and shook your head, chuckling under your breath. She was a wild one and kept you on your toes. Moving to LA wouldn’t have been a complete adventure without her. She stood in the doorway of your room and looked down at you sitting on the floor, surrounded by cardboard boxes. She threw you an intent stare, head cocked to the side as she awaited your response.

“A party? It’s a Wednesday night.” You whined softly, trying to shirk your way out of going and knowing full well the effort would be futile.

“It’s LA, baby!” Sarah exclaimed, raising her arms in the air with a jovial heel kick causing you both to bubble with laughter. You clambered off the floor, using the boxes to balance, pulling a wad of balled up masking tape off your hip.  You sighed, feeling a bit defeated and knowing you didn’t have a choice in the matter. Sarah pinched her lips in a shit-eating grinning, realizing her own victory.

“Let’s find you something to weeeear!” She bubbled, grabbing your arm and dragging you into her bedroom.

9:34pm

“What kind of party is this anyways?” You inquired as Sarah parked the car on a hilly street. Grandiose houses lined either side of the road. You had driven nearly an hour to get here.

“It’s just a small house party. Some film editor’s best friend or…something. I don’t know. I just saw a random flyer on my boss’ desk and figured—‘when in Rome!’ ” Sarah shrugged, her tone nonchalant.

Your head turned to her quickly, eyes wide and blinking at her in disbelief. “You mean--we aren’t invited?!” Your voice squeaked through the neighborhood, the echo bouncing off the walls of the houses and back to your ears. Sarah grabbed your arms, shushing you. “Dude, chill. It’s an LA party. And it’s totally casual. Just. Be cool.”

Your lip curled in discomfort, an involuntary eye twitch causing your face to contort. Sarah laughed at your expression and waved you off, pulling you up the steep driveway and to the door of the house. You expected her to knock but instead, Sarah just grabbed the door handle and waltzed right in like she owned the place. You grimaced, clutching the small purse at your side as if it could transport you somewhere else.

The house was modern and relatively sterile, with dim lighting and the hum of music in the background, loud enough but not drowning. Sarah hurried you along, pulling you into a large room with massive windows scaling up to the ceiling. It was filled with people, some gathered at a bar in the corner and others sitting placidly, sharing a drink and conversation. Sarah waved at a gentleman across the room and she turned to you with a sheepish grin. “Hey, that’s that guy I was telling you about.” You rolled your eyes with a soft smile, now understanding the real reason why we were here. You knew you would likely be finding your own way home this evening. “Go ahead.” You giggle. Sarah looks at you a bit worried, not wanting to leave you alone but hyper-focused on meeting her crush at the back of the room. “I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine. Go!” She hugged you quickly and wasted no time pushing her way through the throngs of people.

You needed a drink. You found a bucket of beer on ice and quickly grabbed one, popping the top off and taking a generous swig. Your eyes swept the ambient room and noticed there were actually a few celebrities present. Aiden Gillen, who you recognized from Game of Thrones, leaning against a chair while chatting with an intimate group. And was that---Cole Sprouse? Random. And Paul Giamatti? What these people had in common, you would never know. The Hollywood crowd was an enigma.

You took another sip of your beer and made your way into the next room where you heard a loud rise of voices and a bunch of clapping. Your brow furrowed, curiosity over the uproar drawing you closer. You see a poker table surrounded by people laughing and carrying on. Poker could be fun. You took a seat and see the table is about to start a fresh game. “Room for one more?” You call out and everyone looks over at you with a welcoming smile. “Welcome to the table!” The dealer beckons. “Our current undefeated champ is off getting a drink so we will begin momentarily.” You nod and take another sip of your drink, reaching into your purse to grab some cash to add to the betting pool.

A few people start clapping and as you look up from your wallet, you see a man sit down across the table. And your heart sinks down into the pit of your stomach. Pedro Pascal. Your mouth goes dry and it’s all you can do to keep from looking like a deer in headlights. “Pedro’s back! Let’s do this!” The dealer calls, his voice high-spirited. You try to remember how to breathe and instead you clear your throat awkwardly, followed by an embarrassing sort of cough (?!). Everyone looks over at you, Pedro included, and you wave like an idiot. “Yeah, no—sorry. I’m good. I’m ready.” Mortifying. Greeeat. You wince at your own lack of decorum and proceed to watch the dealer cut the deck.

Finishing your beer swiftly, you hope the liquid courage gives you the strength you need to remember how to read numbers to get through this game. You pick up your cards. You’re relieved to see you’ve been dealt a good hand. You lift your eyes up and give the other players a methodical glance, stopping on Pedro’s pensive face longer than you should have. He must have felt you looking at him because his eyes lift from his cards in a quick motion and your face burns like a wildfire as you turn your attention back to your cards. Fuck.

The game proceeds with Pedro calling the initial bet, followed by one player folding while the other checks to avoid the bet. When it rolls around to your turn, you are confident. “Call.” You state plainly, locking eyes with Pedro across the table. He raises an eyebrow as you match his bet. The game continues this way until it is just the two of you left playing. You sit with 7 cards in your hand, eying them sharply. Pedro slinks into his seat a bit, looking a bit too relaxed. He’s bluffing. You speculate. You hold a straight flush. There’s only one hand that could beat that. You were ready to take your chances.

“Raise.” You chime, eyes never leaving your cards. He stares at you for a moment, gazing at the pile of cash on the table. There is a pregnant pause, and everyone is watching in earnest, so quiet one could hear a pin drop. Pedro finally sits up in his seat and grins with a nod, laying his cards down on the table. “Fold.” He says, a hint of defeat hidden beneath his playful countenance. A satisfied smirk creeps over your lips and you lay your cards out, revealing your hand. Everyone claps and Pedro flips his cards to show his weak Three of a Kind and you can hardly keep from laughing. “Another round.” Pedro insists and you shake your head. “I think not. I’d better cash-in while I’m ahead.” You say with a wink, swiping your hand across the green felt table and grabbing your winnings. Everyone is chattering on as you walk away from the table. Did you really just kick Pedro’s ass in Poker? You stuff the cash into your purse and scan the room. You see Sarah and her friend loitering in a corner, extremely close to one another and you know this wouldn’t be the time to brag about your poker victory, much less your Pedro encounter.

Your curious mind gets the better of you and you look back at the poker table which is now shockingly vacant. Everyone must have determined that was enough for the night and dispersed after you snatched all the cash and bailed. Whoops. You turn your attention to the bar, thinking now would be a good time for another drink and there he was, laughing with a small group of nameless strangers. You grab a couple of beers from the bucket which is now filled with mostly ice water.

Slinking up behind him, you lean against the bar, barely brushing your shoulder against his. He feels the pressure of someone close to him and instinctually gives a quick glance over his shoulder. But as he goes to look away, he double-takes when he realizes it’s you. You’re suddenly met with a handsome grin and a low chuckle. “Have you come to gloat?” He teases, abandoning his other conversation and squaring his shoulders to face you. You laugh and hand him a beer, wriggling your nose up in an apologetic gesture. “I figured the least I could do was bring you a beer.” He accepts it with a nod, looking down at the bottle as he plucks off the cap. “Yeah, since you took all the cash in my wallet, that does seem like a pretty fair trade.” Your jaw drops in faux-shock at his snarky remark. You try your best not to laugh. “Oh man. I guess I should have brought you some ice too.” You reply, and his brow furrows as he contemplates your meaning while bringing the beer up to his lips. You take the opportunity to seal the punch line. “Ohhhh. For the sick burn you’re experiencing, I mean.” He doubles over and brings his fist to his mouth as he struggles to swallow his beer through a sudden tear of laughter. “Wow. That was bad.” He adds once he’s able to regain his composure.

You both chuckle and you extend your hand out for a greeting. “I’m Y/N.” He smiles and takes your hand, shaking it politely. “Pedro Pascal.” There is a momentary silence and you don’t know what to say. Do you tell him how great he is? How much you love his films and that you admire his work? That felt so…weak. So instead, you manage, “Nice to meet you,” and you pull the bottle to your lips to sip your beer again as a filler to the dead space between you. He gives you a puzzled look for a moment and you almost feel as though you did something wrong, until.

“Hey, there’s an open sofa over there. Let’s go sit.” He suggests, making his way over without waiting for you to agree. You follow him and sit down on the grey velvet loveseat, which ironically seemed a lot bigger from across the room. The two of you are sitting closer than you had planned. Pedro doesn’t seem to mind it, draping his arm over the back of the couch and behind your head. He places his beer between his legs as he crosses one over the other. He’s so relaxed and it’s a marvel to you how at ease he is. And then you realize something…so are you? Shouldn’t you be bursting at the seams, gushing for this man you have drooled over for so long? But as you looked at him, sitting on the couch next to you, you feel entirely poised and comfortable.

 12:36 am

The two of you were swept up for what felt like forever talking about all manner of things, laughing and teasing one another to the point where you felt nothing like strangers who had only met hours ago. You had lost track of time. And Sarah—who had apparently left over an hour ago having spotted you and Pedro on the couch chatting it up like old pals. She didn’t want to interrupt and sent you a text, which she knew you would check later.  

“Hey bich. I’m going home with Greg. Looks like you’ve got a ride figured out. I expect ALL THE TEA tomorrow. 😈 Luv ya!”

Your beer bottles had been empty for a while as you give it a shake for good measure, watching a few lonely drops sloshing around the bottom. Pedro chuckles and looks around the room. Everyone had mostly filtered out, apart from a few. You look at him and give a sheepish smile and he goes to open his mouth to say something and stops himself. You tilt your head a little and squint in his direction. “…what?” You inquire. He sits up, placing his empty beer bottle on the coffee table in front of him. “No, nothing. It’s weird.” His voice tapers. You lean off the back of the couch, bringing yourself closer to him. “Let’s hear it. I like weird.” He turns to you and bites his lip slightly with a smirk. “Come home with me.” He blurts. Your eyes nearly burst from their sockets. He said what now?! He laughs and places his hand on your knee and all the sirens in your head start wailing, your arms going numb. “No funny business, I swear. But I am having a good time with you. Besides, all the beer here is luke-warm at best.” You remain silent, considering his proposal. You weren’t the type to just go home with someone you have only known for 4 hours—Pedro Pascal or otherwise. Was he the type to invite randos to his house?

As if reading your mind, he starts again. “Look, I don’t just randomly bring people home with me. Please don’t get that idea.” His voice goes soft and a bit distant. “I just don’t want our night to end yet.” You look into his rich, brown eyes and you inhale deeply, pondering over your options. You could call a cab and just go home. But a cab ride this time of night and nearly an hour away---you could see all your poker winnings blowing out the window.

“I have a guest room.” He adds gratuitously. And you turn to him and laugh. “Oh? Does THE Pedro Pascal have a guest room?” You taunt him, holding your hands up to your mouth. “Now you’re just rubbing your lavish lifestyle in my face.” Your words dripping with sarcasm. He laughs heartily. “Oh, so you DO know who I am?” You look at him in surprise. “Of course I do! Why would you think I didn’t?” He shrugged, running his index finger along the stubble on his chin. “Most people I meet rave about my movies or my,” he adds air quotes to the word, “work.” You smirk, pursing your lips tight like a drawstring bag. “I took your poker money AND I didn’t visibly fawn over you. It’s been a hard night for Pedro, hasn’t it?” You say in a boo-boo voice, pinching his cheek. He laughs and swats at you.

Your laughter tapers and you look at him with a soft smile. “No funny business.” You confirm and he grins from ear to ear. “You got it. Let’s get out of here then.”

1:04am

He opens the white Mercedes door and you climb into the car. It is a sporty sedan but not ostentatious. He gets in and push-starts the ignition. You put on your seatbelt as he does and he looks over at you, a cable in his hand. You look at him inquisitively. “Pedro’s Car Rules. Whoever is in the passenger seat must hook up their music. So that I may adequately judge you.” You laugh and shy away from the cable. “Judge me? Seriously?” He wags the cable in your face. “We don’t move until you plug in your phone.” He shrugs and takes his other hand off the wheel. You groan and snatch the cable from him, your fingers grazing over his as you do, sending an electric shock through you.

You plug your phone in, fumbling past your sudden nervousness. “Ok, let me find something.” Pedro immediately stops you. “Nope. Shuffle.” Your jaw drops and you cut eyes at him playfully. He tilts his head towards you and raises his eyebrow and you know you must acquiesce. You nod and say nothing, shaking your head as you push the shuffle button and hit play. Please, for the love of fuck don’t be something ridic---.

My Shot – Hamilton (Original Broadway Cast Recording)

You face-palm and let out an audible groan. Pedro starts laughing and cranks the volume. “Excelleeent.” You listen to the entire song and by the end of it, you are both singing along, laughing when you mess up a lyric.

Mi Gente – J Balvin, Willy Williams

Pedro turns to you with an amused look of surprise. You raise your hands in the air and giggle. “It’s a jam. Don’t hate.”

Take on Me – a-ha

The moment this song drops you both immediately start hitting the air-keys, harmonizing and dancing beneath your seatbelts.

Kiss – Prince

Pedro exclaims. “Ahhh! Yes!” You both carry on over your love for Prince and the rest of the car ride consists of an exchange of stories on how the artist was such a powerful influence on your lives, not paying much attention to anything else that plays over the stereo system.

1:47am

He pulls up to a house at the end of a rather unassuming suburban street. It was clean and contemporary, with neatly kempt flower beds filled with beige river rocks and cacti with pink and orange flowers, their blossoms closed until dawn. It was not a small house, but it was also not what you would expect a celebrity of Pedro’s status to call home. It wasn’t a large pseudo-mansion with pillars and stately windows. Instead, it was inauspiciously beautiful.

You open the car door and walk along the driveway up to the front door, which was a beautiful knotty oak with an ochre stained finished. The golden hue of the door made for a lovely contrast against the white stucco house and black framed windows. Pedro opened the door, inviting you to step in first. You awkwardly cross the threshold into a hallway that feeds directly into a living room. Large windows open up to an outdoor veranda and what looks to be a hot tub, but you can’t quite make it out in the dark.

You hadn’t noticed that Pedro had stepped into the kitchen and returned with two beers. “Shall I give you the tour, m’lady?” He jokes, handing you the bottle with a smile. You grin, giving a small bow. “Yes please!” He shows you around the living room, kitchen, and a few other extra-curricular spaces—the gym, the game room--until you find that you have circled back to the heart of the house where you began. He points to a hallway. “And over here are the bedrooms. I didn’t want to sound like a braggart before, but...” He leans in, his whisper grazing the nape of your neck. Your eyes close and your mouth falls agape as you feel his breath against the shell of your ear. “I actually have four guest rooms.” You take in a sputtering breath and try to laugh at his attempt at a joke, which was completely lost on you the moment his lips brushed over your ear.

Did he do that on purpose? He makes his way down the hallway, showing you each of the bedrooms. And then he stops at the last one. “You’ll sleep in here.” You nod, trying to understand what was wrong with the other three. “And where is your room?” The moment you ask it, you wish you could suck the words back into your mouth. He takes a sip from his beer and smiles against the bottle’s opening. “Right over here.” Directly across from “your” room, were double doors that led to his own bedroom. Now you understood why he picked that room for you. No funny business. Right.

You step into his bedroom and you are immediately hit with the smell of him. Notes of amber and sandalwood with a hint of a wood-burning fire. You nearly melted. His room was orderly but not stuffy. The bed was made but the covers wrinkled, almost like he haphazardly went through the motions without much thought to the final result. A small seating area sat in front of a large bay window with long, chiffon curtains. It was cozy. You turn to look at him with a smile, and his eyes have been settled on you for some time. The energy humming between the two of you made a drastic shift. You bit your lip as your eyes traced over him. His shoulders, his biceps, his large, veiny hands. The way he stood with both feet planted on the floor as if he were preparing for the earth to unexpectedly move beneath him.

“Pedro…” You said his name and you didn’t really know why. You had nothing of import to say. But the way his name tasted on your tongue... You gulped. He stepped closer to you, his motions slow as he took the bottle from your hand and placed them both on a table by the door. He turned to face you, his hands running down your arms and you locked your knees to keep from swooning like an 18th century courtier. His gaze was darting all over your face, sweeping over your eyes and down to your lips and back up again. “I know I said no funny business…” He murmured, his voice deep and tender.

He ran his fingers along your neck, combing them through a few strands of your hair before bringing his fingertips up to your jaw line. He lifted your chin so your eyes met his and in that moment, you came undone. It was as though someone shoved a box of lit matches down your throat and they burned in your chest. You hastily grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him into you, your lips colliding with a heated force. His hands began to feverishly climb over your back, your tongue running a soft line over the delicious part of his lips where he quickly granted you access. His tongue invaded your mouth in earnest, and you moaned softly, the sound humming into his head and sending him reeling. He picked you up, your kiss never breaking, and laid you down on his bed. Your hands cupped his cheeks before racing through his russet hair.

The kiss broke for a moment and you lay beneath him, your heavy breathing matching his own. His chocolate eyes glittered as they scanned down your body, his hand landing on your stomach. You twitch as he slips it beneath your shirt, lifting it up to expose the black lacy bra you wore underneath. He hummed under his breath, dropping over you enough until you felt the soft cotton of his grey shirt graze your mid-section. His hand searched along the waistline of your pants and back up again and you whimpered. He tilted his head up to look at you. “I can stop.” He stated thoughtfully.

You shook your head feverishly. He had barely touched you, yet he could see the apparent agony on your face as you slowly unraveled beneath him. “Use your words, Y/N.” He whispered low in your ear before kissing your earlobe ever so softly, pulling away with the most delicate plipping sound. “Please don’t stop.” You breathed desperately. He needed no other coaxing. He swiftly lifted the shirt from over your head and made quick work of sliding your pants down. You fumbled at the button of his jeans and he stood by the edge of the bed and kicked them off as he peeled away his shirt and tossed it onto the floor.  He hovered over you as he stood by the bed and you were able to get a good look at him, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. You could tell by the pitch of his underwear that he was more than ready. And yet, he just stood there, staring at you. Suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious, you start to fold your arms over your body in an effort to hide yourself. And he smirks with a shake of his head, his knees crashing onto the bed and grabbing your wrists, pinning them over your head. “Let me look at you, Y/N.” You give a half-cocked smile as he lets your wrists go. You keep them over your head obediently, granting him what he wants. “You are...” His voice trails as his hands begin to trace along your sides. “Fucking beautiful.” He finishes his sentence and you turn your face into the pillow, hiding your embarrassment.

He chuckles, turning your head back and leaning down to kiss you gently. His hands roam over your breasts, the black lacy bra still a barrier from his attentions. You reach around and unhook it with ease, and they spill out into his palms. He massages them for a moment, flicking his fingers over your taught nipples, pinching slightly. Your back arches off the bed in response. He moans as he takes each into his mouth, circling his tongue across the peaked flesh and then sucking on the velvet skin beneath.

In a motion like silk, his hand finds the wet mound between your legs and you shudder in surprise as he strokes against the fabric, a dark damp patch in your underwear the aftermath of his ministrations. “Fuck.” The word flowed from his exhale, so low you could barely hear it. It was strained and focused. His cock twitched aggressively in his underwear, burning to bury itself inside of you. He hooked his fingers over your panties, dragging them down and tossing them to the wayside. With his firm grip on your knees, he then plunged himself deep into your slick folds. You writhe violently as the feeling of his tongue sends you into a frenzy. “Pedro—” His name trips from your lips as you try to take a breath and at the sound of it, he moans into your pussy, his tongue delving deeper as if to reward you for your lustful admission.

You twist your fingers into his disheveled hair as you buck your hips against him in ardent pulses. “Ah—fuck. Don’t stop—” You plead and the moment that you say it, he pulls away with a devilish smirk. Your hands still tangled in his hair, giving him an admonishing tug as you whine for him to continue. He puckers his lips as if to say “shh”, but no sound emerges. He reaches down to the elastic band of his boxer briefs, letting them slip over his hips. His cock springs out, thick and lengthy, bobbing up and down from its own weight. He gives it a couple of hard pumps as he brings his fingers to your wet pussy and begins to lightly tease the lips, all while circling the head of his cock with his thumb, a bead of precum stringing its way onto your thigh.

You spread your legs wider, tucking your ankles underneath him and pulling him closer. “Stop teasing me.” You whimper. But your begging only spurs him on. “Mmm. Tell me what you want, sweet thing.” You moan at the use of a pet name. “You know exactly what I want.” You squelched impatiently, your hunger for him exceeding all manner of niceties. He leaned over you, groaning into your neck as the head of his cock tickles the damp lips of your entrance. He holds steady there as you jerk beneath him, desperate for him to fuck you. “Patience, baby.” He coos, sinking his mouth upon you. His lips searched over your collarbone and back up to your neck. Your breath purled against the side of his face as you closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his tongue sampling every part of your body.

In the hopes of stopping his teasing, you proceed to do a little teasing of your own. You ran your tongue across his earlobe, nibbling gently with a soft moan of his name into his ear. “Pedro..”  He groans softly in response, his cock still teasing you. You kiss his neck, sucking lightly and he reaches down and begins rubbing the head of his cock on your sensitive clit, dragging it up and down. “You’re so—ah, fuck— so wet.” The forced words fall from his lips as if he is fighting through pain. And without another beat, he slowly sheathes himself inside of you. You both let out a drawn-out cry at the sensation and your nails dig into his arms as he arches his back to get as deep as he can. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, closing his eyes and drowning in the depths of your wet grip on him. You pulsed and squeezed to match his rhythm and he swiftly planted his hands on your hips to still your movement. “Mmm. Take it easy on me, baby. I’ll cum in a second if you keep that up.” His voice strained as he continued to pump.

In a rapid motion, Pedro whisks you in his arms and sits on the bed, impaling you on his cock. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as you inhale deeply at the fullness of him inside of you. You rode him leisurely and he did not rush you. The tightening of your muscles moving up and down upon his shaft was enough to send him over the edge, but his eyes remained locked on you as you worked towards your euphoric goal. Your breathing began to accelerate, and he winced with pleasure as you dug your nails into his shoulders. “Cum for me, sweet thing.” Taking the lead again, he proceeded to drive his cock upwards, matching your pace, his grip tight around your ass and you felt a rush of pleasure overcome you as your wet, velvet walls constricted around his cock in violent pulses. He wanted to burst into you, but he refused to let it end so quickly.

Your orgasm faded and you slumped over his shoulder, panting as you came down from your high. He leaned you back so that you would fall softly onto the pillows. He admired you as you laid on the bed before him, your skin glistening with the aftermath of your efforts and reveling in the sensations still thrumming through you. He dropped onto his back next to you, his cock standing at attention, an indication his outward relaxation was only a courtesy to the exasperated woman beside of him.

Rolling over in a rapid movement, he slipped two fingers inside of you mechanically. You were near to purring at the unexpected feeling of his touch and you rocked against him in supplication. He demonstratively pulled you closer by your legs, letting his veiny cock graze along your stomach and dribble some pre-cum onto your flushed skin. You exhaled at the sensation of his warm, full length on your belly. In an instant, he withdrew his fingers and slotted his cock into the space they left behind. The muscles in his back bunched under your nails as he felt your body tense beneath him, straining to reach that pleasure again. His thrusting persisted with a devout purpose, willing you to cum. Your hands raced up his back and into his hair, clutching madly. “Mmm. So—fucking--good.” He praises you with each thrust. And with that, the heat of your core burst, spreading through you as you arched up hard beneath his weight, legs flying up to wrap around his waist to let him sink just a fraction deeper as your walls strangled his cock in rhythmic pulses. The rapturous screams that burst from your lips nearly synonymous with sobbing.

He pulled himself from you and your chest heaved with labored breaths. But he would not wait for your full recovery this time, his own need too strong. He spread your legs without missing a beat and before you could prepare, he slammed himself so deep inside of you that you were whining in pain-riddled pleasure. He groaned, sweat dripping from his brow. You whimpered desperately, his name dripping over your lips in a pathetic mewl. He bemoaned and withdrew almost completely, leaving only his swollen purple head inside. You took a single breath and he surged upwards as if to punctuate a point, hands dropping on either side of your head as your legs fell over his shoulders, a rough sound escaping his lips. You were struggling to catch your breath as he plunged into you time and time again, his pace gradually picking up and becoming rougher and rougher.

“F-fuuck.” He grunted under his breath and once again, you were fit to explode like a supernova. “P-Pedro!” You coaxed, savoring once more the way his name filled your mouth how he filled you now. The sound of it trilling from your lips was enough to finally send him over the edge with you. As the throes of orgasm built in you, he thrust rapidly into your writhing body, his own climax coming hard on the heels of your own, leaving him limp and replete on top of you.

You lay listless on the bed together for a good while, unable to move and entirely exhausted. Once you had caught your breath you looked over at him to find his eyes were closed, a wide smile plastered on his visage. You nudge him in the shoulder playfully. “Proud of yourself?” You jest. All he can do is nod, the grin growing wider.

Another beat of silence passes, and he rolls over, his hand lazily placed on the small of your back as he buries his nose into your hair before planting a sleepy kiss on your head. “You ok?” He hums, the timbre of his voice dusky from exhaustion.

“Better than ok. But…there is something I need to ask you.” You say, turning to face him in the bed. He looks at you quizzically, worried that something might be wrong. He raises an eyebrow in response. A serious expression crosses your countenance and he props himself up on his elbow, growing a little concerned.

“Wha--what is it?” He asks, worried.

“Do you have toothbrush I can borrow?” You ask with a grin. He wrestles you to the bed for toying with him and you both laugh.

“Yes, sweet thing.” He replies with a smile, crawling out of bed, bare assed and all, in pursuit of a toothbrush for you.

💫Fanfic requests open @intu-witch-tion💫

[achliegh]

British V-Sign

Punk Rock Leo? If y’all want a series of this you will have to let me know because I like this, but it also reminds me of something a 12 year old would write. (Cringe)

TW/CW: Swearing, Drinking, and a blowie in the bathroom lol, if there are others let me know I can’t think of anything else.

Sergei was on the phone with someone. Everyone else was in the shower or getting into their game day suits. Everyone was a little bummed because they just lost against the Rangers, 3-0. It stung but with Kasey being their only goalie and having a pulled thigh muscle makes it hard on the team.

Sergei was pulling on his blazer, he laughed into the phone and nodded as if the person on the line could see him. No one really paid attention, usually people get calls in the locker room from family, then again Sergei was speaking English. Suspicious.

“I will let them know! The whole team got it!” He hung up and whistled for everyone's attention. When all eyes were on him and mostly dressed he made his announcement. “Okay, I have the entire team invited to go to a free Punk Rock concert!”

“You like Punk? Sergei, why did I never know about this?” Dumo walks over to stand next to his friend and puts a hand on his shoulder. Sergei punches him in the arm slightly and rolls his eyes.

“I don’t really care for it, but an old friend of mine's son plays and has a concert at the Barclays Center. I thought you would like to go, maybe cheer up.” He smiles that sweet smile he always puts on when he wants to do something but not go alone. Most of the team agrees, Sunny and Sirius decide that concerts aren’t really their place and decide to stay at the hotel.

Everyone went to the hotel to change into something more comfortable. Finn knocked on Logan's door because he was taking forever. Finn didn’t really know what to wear to a punk concert so he went with his normal ripped black skinny jeans and a white shirt and some white tennis shoes. When Logan finally opened the door the room was a mess as expected, he shook his head as Logan held up two shirts for him to pick from.

Logan was so indecisive that Finn being his best friend made all his decisions for him. Once Logan was dressed in a Metallica black and white tie-dyed shirt with the sleeves cut off and some light wash baggy and ripped jeans, he threw on his stupid boots that weighed like 20 pounds but Logan took everywhere.

Everyone was waiting for them by the time they walked out of the elevator, the usual chirping about being late ensued as everyone piled into the vans waiting for them. They were expecting some small concert hall with a couple of mediocre bands that would sound great after a few drinks. Instead everyone but Finn was taken aback when they pulled up outside one of the biggest concert halls in NYU. Sergei went first and gave the bouncer a word. He let them through without hesitation. Leading them into a taped off area of the mosh pit.

“Sergei who the hell do you know!?” Finn was looking around so confused but also in awe. “Do you have a past we don’t know about?” Sergei laughed and shook his head, patting Finn a little hard on the back.

“Nope! You remember the travelling Junior Professional teams I used to coach.” Some of the older players nodded while Logan and Finn shook their heads. “Well I used to coach Eloise Knut’s son. He was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis last year as he was on the road to recovery from a torn ACL. He used to just do music for a hobby but now it’s his whole life.” Sergei shrugs as Finn and Logan gawk at him. Dumo snaps a picture of the two and sends it to the group chat.

“You mean Eloise Knut the absolute hockey LEGEND!” Finn looks at Logan then back at Sergei. “You’re shitting me.” Sergei shakes his head again as the lights start to dim and the band comes out. They all turned to face the stage, it was too dark to see anyone clearly but they knew people were up there.

Suddenly, a spotlight shines down on an angel, a giant angel. He’s tall built blonde with a green streak over his left temple missing with his beautifully golden angel curls. The mop of hair suit his face, a mesh shirt tucked into some bagged Black torn to shreds jeans and four inch platform boots. His golden skin glowed from under the light with a cloud of twinkles on his face that must be piercing's that can’t be seen from this far away. They also notice some black smudges around his eyes.

Logan is suddenly very thirsty. He got even thirstier when this angel opened his mouth. The songs were amazing, they were punk and crazy but also not anything he ever imagined. Everyone around them was dancing, drinking and laughing. Whooping when the angel from the stage came closer to sing directly to the group and pointed at Sergei before waving at him with the sweetest smile.

He was close enough Finn could make out his piercings, a septum a simile, an eyebrow and so many in his ears. What took his breath away is when the angel had been focusing so much on his bass solo that his tongue poked out of his mouth… and it was pierced.

Finn and Logan both took big gulps of water at the same time, then gave each other pointed looks saying ‘You too?’ They both nodded and looked back on stage. Standing so close the back of their hands were touching. There had always been an unspoken thing between them but unspoken was always unspoken unless they were slightly inebriated somehow. So they never did anything around the team. But, this angel was pushing them close and closer to having to drink.

Once the performance came to an intermission Logan and Finn shared a look. Then they told the team they were going to the bathroom. Being told to be safe they made it to the bathroom, luckily it was empty. Logan had Finn pinned to the door in a matter of seconds.

“Please tell me you saw that gorgeous man!” Logan was dropping to his knees and undoing Finn’s belt and jeans before Finn could even process what was happening. A shocked moan was ripped from his throat as Logan swallowed him down with no hesitation. It didn’t take long for Logan to pull an orgasm from Finn. Logan loves going down on Finn so making him finish was easy, without even being touched. Logan stood back up as Finn was fixing himself. He washed his hands and splashed some water on his face.

“Yeah” Finn is still trying to catch his breath as he finishes his belt. “I saw him.”

They get back to the team without drawing too much attention to themselves, again standing so close to each other but this time their pinkies are linked. Finn is all bright smiles the rest of the night while Logan is a bit more shy than normal. Blushing at the slightest joke.

Once the concert ended and everyone crawled back into their respective beds they still couldn’t get that boy out of their heads.

The next morning on the car ride to the airport Finn tapped on Logan's headphones and showed him his phone. He has typed out a tweet that had Leo (They eventually got his name from Sergei) tagged.

“I’ve never been to a Punk concert but @peanut made me fall in love <3” It had a picture of him and Logan, and another that was just Leo. Logan was tagged on the side. Logan nodded, smiling and clicks post for Finn.

What they weren't expecting was a response when they landed.