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thefallennightmare · 2 years

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Moment of Weakness-five

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest *

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence. Very very slight mention of small forceable touching. It’s towards the end so if it’s a trigger. Please don’t read. You can skip and not miss anything.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Notes: I've italicized a certain spot in this chapter that I found a prompt for on Pinterest and absolutely fell in love with so I wanted to use it in a story of mine. Kind of a long one but the only one for tonight. As I mentioned in the warnings, small amount of forceable touching towards the end. Feel free to skip ahead.

Tags(open): @splendidreads @sebsgirl71479 @mdpplgtz03 @pattiemac1 @unaxv @elizacusi-blog @alana4610 @broadwaybabe18 @themayzittcha @playboystark @raajali3 @ozwriterchick @ragamuffin285 @screamingdying @themorningsunshine @kenziekugler22 @calwitch @sebastianstansqueen @stanaddict @stucky-simp03 @sleyeveryday @loustan90 @lyra-black13 @valsworldofcreativity @cjand10 @tesseract69 @batprincess1013

I palmed my eyes, rubbing away the blurry tiredness that clouded them, and continued to read the papers in front of me. This should have been done hours ago but I found myself becoming busy with answering phone calls from the other gangs around New York because they wanted information about the next meeting. My work day ended over an hour ago and with how angry Bucky seemed at me earlier, I wanted to make sure all of my work was finished before leaving.

“You’re still here?”

I looked away from the papers and gave Steve a weak smile. “I thought you left already.”

He nodded. “I did but Bucky needed me to come back. Something came up.”

I looked towards the closed door of Bucky’s office and sighed. It had been a few hours since I had seen him and wasn’t sure what he was doing behind the closed door.

“Is everything alright?” I asked, looking back at Steve.

Steve stuffed his hands deep into his pants pockets. “Don’t worry about it. You should get home and get some sleep.”

I squinted my eyes at him, clearly understanding that he was hiding something from me. I was interrupted by asking what by the front door of the small building opening, a fiery redhead bounding inside.

“Oh, Steve. You’re still here?”

He gave a warm smile to Natasha. “Bucky called me back. We need to take care of something.”

“With Thor? Bucky told me that he low balled you guys again with his payment,” Natasha ignored me, only keeping her attention on Steve.

My stomach dropped with jealousy, hearing that they talked about this with Natasha.

“I thought Bucky specifically counted the money? I was with him and he said it was all there,” I said.

That got Natasha’s attention and she looked at me with a parted lip expression.

“Bucky went with you?”

I nodded. “Last week. He was going to send me with Sam but he was out sick and Steve was busy so Bucky just came with me.”

“He didn’t mention that,” Natasha muttered to herself.

“I’m not exactly sure what happened. Bucky said to meet him here so we can head over to Thor’s club,” Steve shrugged.

At the mention of his name, Bucky appeared almost out of nowhere and was surprised to not only see Natasha there but me there as well, still working.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t know you were coming by. I told you I was going to be late tonight,” Bucky said.

She laid a very deep kiss upon his lips, clearly one that Bucky had no problem returning. I had to look away not only because of the jealousy that filled me but the awkwardness I felt between them. Nothing happened between Bucky and I so there was no reason to feel this way. But I couldn’t help it, especially with how different Bucky had been acting when it was only him and I together.

Steve didn’t miss the hurt look in my eyes.

“I wanted to surprise you. I thought that we could get a few minutes together before you had to leave,” Natasha’s fingers dragged down the front of Bucky’s chest and lingered over his belt.

She clearly didn’t care that Steve and I were there still, watching this unfold.

Bucky shifted uncomfortably under her touch and when our eyes met, I had to look away, hoping he couldn’t tell how hurt I was watching them.

He did.

“Nat, I’m sorry but I don’t have any time for this,” Bucky sighed while taking her hands off of him.

“Well, I guess I’ll go back home then and wait for you.” She ran a hand through her hair, the hurt and embarrassment clear on her face.

Bucky shook his head before he motioned to his office. “I’ve got two minutes. Why don’t you tell me about your day?”

That brightened up Natasha’s face as she eagerly nodded and followed Bucky into his office, the door left wide open. I couldn’t help but watch as they conversed quietly amongst themselves, the smile that played at Bucky’s lips sunk my heart deep into my stomach and it was weighed down when he moved a strand of hair out of Natasha’s face, tucking it behind her ear.

How I longed and wished that was me.

Steve sighed as he sat on the edge of my desk and looked down at me, arms crossed over his chest.

“What?” I asked, not bothering to take my eyes off of Bucky.

“You’re staring at him again,” he observed.

Embarrassed, I looked down at my feet and shrugged. “I’m not. I simply looked over in that direction and he was there.”

“Then why was that look on your face?” Steve snickered.

“What?” I shook my head. “What look?”

Steve bore his own hurt expression. “Everytime you look at him, you get this certain spark in your eyes. Almost as if you’re looking at the night sky.”

“And?”

He let out a broken breath. “You love the night sky.”

My heart dropped again, only this time it was because of how hurt Steve sounded and suddenly I realized why he felt that way.

“Oh, Steve,” I breathed while standing to my feet.

My hand went to cup his cheek but he was quick to stand, Bucky and Natasha walking out of the office. I didn’t have the chance to talk to Steve about what I realized because he had moved away from me, almost as if I had breathed a sickness unto him.

“I’ll see you when I get home, alright?” Bucky placed a kiss on Natasha’s lips.

I averted my gaze to my shoes and danced on my heels.

“Y/N, do you want me to wait for you and we can walk to our cars together?” She suggested.

“Oh, I-.” I stumbled over my words, trying to rack my brain for an excuse as to why I couldn’t leave quite yet.

I knew the only reason why Natasha wanted to walk with me to my car was to make sure that I wasn’t alone with Bucky yet again.

“She’s finishing up some work for me. Not worth it to have you wait around,” Bucky spoke for me.

I gave him a small smile of thanks.

They said another quick goodbye and when she was gone, I crossed my arms over my chest while leaning all of my weight onto my left foot.

“So, Thor low balled you with the cash yet again?” I asked Bucky with a raised brow.

He sighed. “Don’t worry about it. Steve and I will handle it.”

“What’s the real reason why you’re going to New Asgard?”

Bucky and Steve looked at me with slight shock.

“How do you know the name of his club?” Steve asked.

I shrugged as if it was no big deal. “I’ve been there once or twice. It’s a crazy place and there’s only two reasons why people go there; sex and drugs.”

Bucky ran a hand over his beard. “Is that why you went there?”

I didn’t miss the jealousy in his voice.

“Hell no. I went with my friend Wanda a year ago after she lost her boyfriend. She wanted to let loose and she did. It wasn’t my scene.”

“But I do know that you’re not going to get in just the two of you,” I continued. “New Asgard has a strict rule of allowing male members inside when they’re alone.”

Steve spoke next. “I’m sure if we tell them that we were there to talk with Thor, they’ll let us in.”

I snorted. “If you wanted to talk with him, why don’t you meet with him at Asgard Industries?”

The two men shared a look, not saying a word.

“So if you want to get into his club, you’re going to need me,” I said while getting my things together.

“Fuck no,” Bucky shook his head. “I’m not letting you go anywhere near Thor especially after how he was acting around you the last time.”

I shrugged before slipping into my jacket. “Which is exactly why you need me tonight. I can distract him while the two of you do whatever it is you need to do. I’m assuming that is top secret mob boss stuff.”

Their silence gave me their answer.

“So,” I nodded. “I’ll meet you outside the club in one hour.”

“Where are you going?” Steve questioned.

“Home to change. Business attire isn’t exactly New Asgard dress code,” I informed him.

Bucky shook his head in disagreement while grabbing my elbow to stop me. “I don’t like the idea of you throwing yourself onto Thor to help out Steve and I. We’re not going to be there in case something happens.”

The fire from his touch burned all of my insides and I resisted the urge to taste him. So instead, I gently removed myself from his grasp.

“Too bad it’s not up to you. I’ll meet you out front in one hour.”

I ignored their protests, knowing that whatever their true intentions were tonight, that they needed me in order to distract Thor.

My heels clicked loudly against the pavement in tangent with the loud bass blaring from the club as I walked up. There was a long line of people, waiting to get inside, but I knew that in order to get inside, there was no point in waiting in line. There was a slight chill in the air tonight as it wrapped around me, the bottom of my very tight dress doing nothing to warm my legs as it stopped just below my ass. The low cut was very revealing and the red color choice was perfect for tonight.

Not for Thor but for Bucky.

Word around the office was that he loved his women in red.

I found the two men whispering to each other and when I walked up, it seized, both of their eyes drinking in my appearance. Steve simply licked his lips as his eyes looked me up and down.

Bucky, however, wore a look I had never seen before. His breath caught in his throat while his jaw dropped, eyes turning dark.

“Hi boys,” I smiled.

Steve let out a low whistle. “You clean up nice.”

“Thank you, Steve.” I looked towards Bucky, who still hadn’t uttered a word.

“Cat got your tongue?” I teased.

His tongue rolled slowly over his bottom lip and the sheer desire I felt oozing from his stare froze my feet in place. I suddenly felt small in front of him as his eyes grazed up from the tips of my toes to the top of my head, taking his sweet time over the swell of my chest.

His eyes showed what he didn’t say; Bucky wanted to taste every inch of me.

My skin burned with the thought.

“Should we, uh, head inside?” I asked.

Reluctantly, the men nodded and they followed me to the front of the line where one of Thor’s men stood with a clipboard in his hand, like the typical bouncer at a club.

“Ms. Y/N, how are you? It’s been awhile,” he smiled.

“Hello Heimdall!” I cheered while stepping into his open arms. “I’m sure Thor told you that he was expecting us tonight?”

I nodded over my shoulder to Steve and Bucky, who were not too keen on me having this man's arms around me.

Heimdall looked past me and wore a low scowl. “You know how we feel about outsiders on our streets, Y/N.”

I let out a fake sigh. “I know and I’m so sorry. But I needed to see Thor and these two wouldn’t let me go alone. Something about New Asgard being too dangerous for a girl like me.”

“As if you couldn’t handle yourself here. I’ve seen it a few times,” Heimdall reminded me.

I snorted. “And yet you guys still allow me to come back.”

Bucky sneaked up behind me, his hand ghosting over my lower back, and I felt his warm breath against my ear. “We need to get inside now, doll.”

My body shivered and I peered down at his phone when I saw that he was showing me something.

I’m alright, boss. But I can’t promise that I’ll be alive in the next hour. I’m sorry I got caught again. I promise it won’t happen again as long as you get me out of here.

“Fucking Peter Parker,” I grumbled.

So that was the reason why we were here, to save Peter’s ass.

“The faster we get inside, the faster we can leave, and these pathetic excuses of men stop gawking at you,” Bucky seethed.

I saw what he was so upset about; a few men in the line waiting to go inside had averted looking from their dates to take in the sight of me. I smiled smugly towards Bucky.

“Are you jealous?”

His jaw tensed but remained silent, giving me my answer. I turned my attention back to Heimdall.

“Well, it will be ten minutes, top. Promise,” I made an effort to make an X over my chest.

Reluctantly, he nodded before stepping to the side, allowing the three of us to enter the club.

The music radiated off of us and the heat from the packed bodies around us brought a fast sweat to my skin. Bucky and Steve were close to my side as we maneuvered our way through the crowd and over towards the bar.

“So what did Parker get into this time?” I asked Bucky.

He sighed. “He tried selling to Thor without knowing who he was so Thor was upset that Parker was dealing on his streets without getting a cut so now I have to save his ass.”

I ordered a drink from the bartender and smiled a thanks as she handed it to me. My eyes peered over the rim of the glass as I looked at Bucky.

“I’m surprised you’re here to save him. I thought for sure it was a Steve or Sam kind of job,” I admitted.

“He was adamant that he would come with me tonight,” Steve spoke from behind me.

The feeling of his body pressed into my back from how close he was made me bite my lip when the large bulge in his pants pressed into the bareness of my thigh. This was a new feeling with Steve and as much as I loved the feeling of him pressed up against me, I knew that it would falter in a moment.

“What’s the plan?”

Bucky pointed with a vibranium finger towards a door far off in the distance. “That’s Thor’s office and most likely where he’s keeping Parker. You need to distract Thor long enough for Steve and I to save Parker.”

I tossed back the rest of my drink and nodded. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Hey,” Bucky grasped my hand, linking our fingers together. There was a shock that filled the both of us but I pushed the feeling to the side.

“Can you promise that if you get a bad feeling, you leave? Meet in my car down the road?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

With a gentle squeeze, our hands dropped and I frowned at the sudden chill I felt but pushed on, hoping to find Thor in the crowded club.

After a few minutes of searching and avoiding grabbing hands of the random men, I spotted Thor on the second level, sitting in his own secluded section. Our eyes locked and through gritted teeth, I forced a smile and gave him a wave. The look of excitement that crossed his lips did nothing to ease my nerves. He had been so persistent the other day when I first met him that I was a bit afraid of how he would be tonight.

With a quick wave, I ascended up the steps to his section and had no issue passing the guard at the top of the stairs.

“I was hoping you would show,” Thor beamed.

“I did text you, didn’t I?” The fakeness in my voice scared me.

He motioned to the open spot next to him on the couch. “Care for a drink?”

I shook my head. “I’ve already had one, thank you. I’ve got to work in the morning.”

Thor and I leaned back into the couch, his arm resting on the edge behind me. His long blonde hair had been braided back out of his face and his beard had been trimmed nicely. If I wasn't so creeped out with how forward he had been before, I would have found him attractive.

“Barnes has you working late nights and early mornings, eh?” Thor asked.

I shook my head yet again. “It isn't so bad. I did get to meet you, so that’s a perk.”

My hand rested against his arm and I gave it a slight squeeze. Thor leaned in closer, his breath fanning against the crook of my neck, and his own hand began rubbing up and down the bare skin of my thigh.

I froze under his touch when his fingers slipped underneath my dress.

“Why don’t we move this to my office? Much more private there,” his lips brushed against my skin.

I tried to move away from him but his grip on the inside of my thigh tightened.

“You know what, I forgot my phone down at the bar. I should go grab it,” I lied.

Thor ignored me, his fingers sliding farther up underneath my dress and I placed my hands over his to try to stop him.

“Thor, stop. I don’t like this.”

My words fell onto his deaf ears and I thrashed against him, tears welling in eyes, when I felt a finger hook into my panties.

Suddenly, vibranium fingers wrapped around his throat and I let out a small scream, scooting farther away. Bucky had Thor pinned against the couch, his oxygen getting cut off instantly.

“If I see you touching her like that again, I’ll make sure to end your life without a second thought, understood?” Bucky fumed.

Thor couldn’t speak so he nodded and Bucky tossed him to the floor, his loud gasps of air echoing around us.

Bucky was quick at my side scoping me up to my feet, his arms locked safely around me.

“Are you alright, doll?” He asked.

I shook my head, the tears falling, but my throat had closed up, not being able to speak.

Redness covered me with embarrassment as I allowed this to happen, Thor getting that close to me. I wanted to help out Bucky and Steve so I let my guard down.

“Don’t do that,” Bucky cupped my cheeks. “Do not blame yourself, Y/N. This wasn’t your fault.”

It was as if he read my mind, knowing that I was blaming myself.

I nodded in his grasp. “Can you take me home?”

Bucky’s lips ghosted in my hairline and I melted into his embrace, my hands grasping at his back.

“Of course, doll.”

With soft sobs falling from my lips, I let Bucky lead me out of the club and the fresh air still did nothing to calm me.

#mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes and yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan #moment of weakness-mob!bucky barnes

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yourimagines · 1 year

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Date night

* English is not my first language I apologise

* gif is not mine

* triggers: 18+

Y/N POV

“And do I look good.” I said while walking out of the bathroom. “Yes you look amazing.” “Thank you.” She waved her hands. “ no need to thank me.” I pick up my purse and my car keys “I need to go, have fun here.”“Good luck.” My roommate said. “Thanks, I’ll text you.” As I walked out to my car. She organised a date for me tonight. She told me that my date for tonight a colleague is from her work. Well I hope he isn’t a weirdo because she not a good matchmaker. I stepped into the car and drove of to the restaurant.

I walked inside and a waiter stood at the reception table. “Hello welcome, do you have a reservation?” “Yes, on the name Christensen.” The waiter looked it up. “Ah for two, right?” “Yes but my date is not here yet.” “No problem, let’s get you to the your table, follow me please.” I nodded and he walked me up to a table for two. “Thank you.” I said while taking a seat. “No problem.” The waiter walked back to the reception. A tall handsome looking man walked in. The waiter nodded and walked with the man to the table were I was sitting. He took of his jacket and smiled at me “Have a lovely evening.” Said the waiter as he walked away from us. I stood up from my seat. “Hello nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” We shook each other’s hands. “Nice to meet you too. I’m Hayden.” I smiled at him and sat back down. He hung his jacket on the back of his seat. After that he also sat down to order something to eat.

The whole evening was lovely. The food was good, it was not awkward and my date is not a weirdo. He’s a real gentleman and I hope he feels the same about this as I do. “The food was amazing.” He said to the waiter. “Thank you sir.” He looked at me. “Do you want something to drink?” “No thank.” He nodded and looked at the waiter. “We are good, Can we have the bill then , please.” “Of course sir, I will be right back.” The waiter walked off with our empty plate’s. I saw him staring at me. I shyly smiled at him. He returned a smile back. “Here is the bill.” The waiter placed the bill on our table. Before I even could look at it properly he took it. “I like to pay with my card please.” The waiter nodded and took his card and walked away to the counter to pay the bill. “Hayden… thank you but you didn’t had to pay for everything.” “I know but I wanted to pay for everything.” The waiter came back and gave his card back. “Payment is done, have a lovely evening you two.” “Thank you.” We said. We both stood up from our seats. I took my purse as he picked his jacket from his seat. “Shall I walk you to your car?” “That would be lovely, thank you.” We both walked out of the restaurant. It was a cold evening. “Come here.” As he placed his jacked around me. “Thank you.” We both walked to the parking area where my car was. “I really liked it.” I said. “Good because I also had a lovely time tonight.”

We stopped at my car. I gave him his jacket back. “Thank for everything.” He shook his head. “No need to thank me, thank you for the lovely date.” I felt my face was heating up. “You’re to nice Hayden.” His hand went up to the back of his neck. “Well have a great evening.” I nodded. “Thank you and have a great evening for yourself too.” I opened the door to get in the car. I turned around to face him again. “Would you love to do this sometimes soon again.” I said. “Yes of course.” “Good.” “Good.” We looked at each other. He carefully closed the distance between us. As I pushed the door closed as he guided me against the car. His hand came softly to my face. “You are absolutely beautiful.” He said while his hand was holding carefully my face. “Your making me shy now.” He chuckles. “Can I kiss you.” “Yes.” I whispered. Then he leaned down at kissed me softly. My hands went up to the back of his neck. He deepening the kiss. I slightly leaned back out of the kiss because I was getting out of breath. We both where smiling as idiots. “I hate to say this but I’m freezing out here.” “I’m so sorry, I forgot .” He opened the door for me to get in the car. “Call me.” I nodded as I stepped into the car. “I will.” He smiled and closed the door. I waved at him while I drove off.

#hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen #imagines #x reader #imagine

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pastenaga · 10 months

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Charity Art Raffle for Mildret

Recently my friend Mildret was diagnosed with colon cancer, they're only 26 years old and have no family support since their mother passed away two years ago during the pandemic due to covid, they live on their own and they're currently unable to work because of their medical condition. The insurance does not cover certain procedures at the moment and time is crucial at this point. We're gathering money to be able to do the surgery needed (a hemicolectomy and transverse ileus anastomosis) and start chemotherapies. They were told they only have 2 months to do the surgery.

Donations and Raffle tickets payment will be taken on:

Ko-fi

Paypal: [email protected]

Or directly to their bank account (but this one probably only works on Mexico and Latinoamerica): Mildret Fuentes, Bank: BANORTE, Account (Cuenta): 0433727516, CLABE: 072078004337275166.

Thank you all for your attention and your support ❤.

✨PRIZES ✨

🎖️#1: Animated video (MAD) or Comic or Full Colored Drawing

🎖️#2: Comic or GIF animation or Full Colored Drawing

🎖️#3: Full Colored Drawing or GIF animation.

🎖️#4: Flat Drawing + Chibi (color)

🎖️#5: Sketch + Chibi (sketch)

🎖️#6: Sketch

🎁 As a special thank you all Winners from #1 to #15 can have a Keychain + Notebook + 3 Stickers of election: See available designs 👉 HERE. (You would have to pay for the shipment ----> I can give you an estimated shipment cost if you send me your address on DM).

🎁 And from #16 to #25 can choose a keychain + 3 stickers.

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The first 10 tickets will have a FREE Chibi or waist-up Sketch!!🎊

💙 Raffle starts today November 16th and ends on December 26th. 💙After you make the payment please send me a direct message with the receipt.

🏆 I will be announcing the winners during the first week of January!

I made another Charity Raffle for a little kitty some time ago, if you want you can check it out here.

Otherwise, I'm also opening commissions if you're interested, all of the profits will be donated to my friend's treatment. You can find the info here.

✔️ I can draw: Anime, BL, GL, Hetero, OC, Kinks, Armor/weapons, RL people, Chibi, Chibi animals, Gore, Mecha.

❌ Won't draw: Realistic animals, Character design, Shouta or Loli, Landscapes.

🎬 Animated video (MAD): duration max 2 minutes, you need to provide the song, theme, and brief story you would like, (NSFW not allowed). You can see what types of videos I do on my Youtube channel

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🎨 Full Colored Drawing: full body, it can be digital or watercolor, and it can include a simple background. Max 2 characters. NSFW allowed. Digital Examples Watercolor Examples

🎞️ GIF Animation: Simple animation of small actions like kisses, smiling, blushing, etc. Max 2 characters. No background, no color or very simple colors. NSFW allowed. GIF Examples

✍️ Flat Drawing: full body just with flat colors, no background. Max 2 characters. NSFW allowed. Flat Examples

🎀 Color chibi: Max 2 characters. No background. NSFW not allowed. Chibi Examples

✏️ Sketch: Waist-up Max 2 characters. No background. NSFW allowed. Sketch Examples

Any questions feel free to DM me 🥰

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fandomscompilation · 1 year

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The story of two broken souls (Kaz Brekker x Reader) Part 5

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: eventual Kaz Brekker x Reader

Warnings: drunken men, mentions of gambling, reader likes long baths, Rotty being amazing, a glimpse into reader's past, use of 'bitch'

A/N: Next part! Thank you for the love you show to this series. It feels amazing to get positive feedback. The taglist for this series is open. There's also a prompt list on my page so feel free to send in requests. Enjoy!

Taglist: @d34drapunzel @coldheartedmar @igakc

Gif is not mine.

Morning came and I bid my goodbye to the old lady and promised to visit her from time to time. With just a small bag of my personal belongings I walked the streets to the Slat. Entering the building I noticed how calm it was compared to the Club. I saw few Dregs walking around and my eyes fell to Brekker who was watching me, while Jesper was talking his ear off. I walked to them making the boy falter in his story.

"Brekker." I said nodding my head at him. He nodded back before turning to Jesper.

"Give her one of the free rooms and show her The Club. You're on bar duty with her." He said before walking out of the building. The boy gaped at me for a second and I chuckled lightly.

"You'll catch a fly." I teased making him snap back. He smirked extending his hand.

"The name's Jesper."

"Y/N." I smiled allowing him to kiss the back of my hand.

"So.." He said giving me his elbow to link our arms. "How did you manage to get a job at the Club?"

"Wasn't that easy." I smiled going over the story Kaz and I prepared. "I used to work on neutral grounds, in different types of businesses. But there's only few left and Brekker finally caved in, when I showed my experience behind the bar and knowledge of leading a business." I shrugged acting my part of a normal young woman.

"Hmm, I'm glad you're here. We could use someone new." He gave me a soft smile before opening one of the doors upstairs. The room was small with a bed, a desk and chair, a dresser and separated by curtains small bath. "Not much but with time you can change things up."

"I don't mind." I smiled putting my bag on the bed.

"Alright. Do you need time or would you like to head to the bar and learn few things before the crowd shows up?" Jesper asked leaning on the doorway. I looked around the room again before walking his way.

"We can head out." I said and we both left to the Crow Club.

He was right, the crowd wasn't here yet. There were few people lazily drinking or playing, but not too overwhelming for a first day.

Jesper showed me the most important things, where we keep cash, where are dirty and clean glasses and the most used alcohol. Of course some gave tips but Brekker kept a careful eye on that. I served few drinks under Jesper's eye until he decided that I was fine on my own. He left to one of the tables, while I only shook my head getting back to work. Working at a bar for two years came in handy and I had help from the second bartender.

During Jesper's fun I met Rotty, who was happy to point out certain clients to me. The bar was full of men so he made sure that I knew who to avoid. But Rotty also promised that they looked after every worker, so there was no need to be scared. Oh, how little does he know.

"Hey beautiful." I turned my head to the guy that have been drinking since I came in. His flirty comments and amount of alcohol he drank made me keep an eye on him. "Another one please." I walked up to him and took his pint.

"Payment first sir." I said the same thing to every client today. But the whole day here and I was ready to give them free raign of the bar.

"You think I can't pay?" He slurred leaning further on the bar.

"Those are the rules sir. You pay and I give you a drink. No exception." I sighted glancing to Rotty, who slowly started to make his way over.

"Listen here you little bitch. Give me my beer before it gets nasty." He all but snarled in my face and I took a deep breath in to not smash his head on the counter.

"Are there any problems?" Rotty said standing beside the man. He glared his way before standing up, unsteady on his feet.

"Yeah, the bitch doesn't want to give me my beer." The drunken man was getting angrier with each second and I hoped that he won't cause too much trouble on my first day.

"Did you pay?" Rotty asked and the man huffed trying to swing, but Rotty was faster in getting his arm and bringing him to his knees. "I believe you had enough beers tonight." He grabbed the drunk and led him away giving me a small nod. I smiled back before going back to other customers.

I could feel Brekker's gaze on me when it all happened. But I stopped myself from looking over. Dirtyhands and Blade could be seen together. But Kaz Brekker and me were simply working in the same place, I was working for him. I couldn't ruin this plan if I wanted to keep my true identity hidden.

"Hey Y/N." I turned to see Jesper who threw his arm over my shoulders. "You're off duty. Let's head back to the Slat, Inej wants to meet you." I nodded cleaning the glass in my hand.

"Did Brekker allow it or did you made the decision by yourself?" I smirked glancing to the boy who acted offended.

"How can you say that? I would never go against him." He placed a hand on his heart before breaking out with chuckles. I looked up to the balcony where Kaz was standing. He met my gaze and nodded making me relax.

"Alright then." I put everything away and say my goodbye to the other bartender. "So Inej?"

"Yeah, I told her that we had a new girl. She's happy to have 'another woman around'." Jesper quoted leading me outside and across to the Slat.

"I'm sure she had enough of the toxic testosterone." I laughed making him roll his eyes. It was easy to talk with Jesper. He didn't take life too seriously, but I could tell that when someone becomes his friend they can count on the boy in every situation.

We walked into the Slat and it was bustling with life this late into the evening. Jesper led me to the corner table where the Shu girl was observing the room quietly.

"You must be Y/N." She smiled standing up and I smiled back.

"And you must be Inej." I extended my hand but she brought me in a quick hug. I chuckled patting her back softly.

"I hope you'll stick around for a long time." She said while we sat down.

"I hope so too." I sighted letting my legs relax after a long day standing behind the bar.

We indulge in a light conversation about the Club and Dregs. They told me how everything works and I nodded along absorbing everything. I kept acting like a curious girl that was new to the gang life, after all I promised Brekker that his Crows won't know about the Blade.

They both seemed to welcome me with open arms giving me a sense of belonging. It was a dangerous game, but I was an expert in cutting off people when the time came. No matter the calm I felt around them I knew this won't be my forever.

When the night came I bid them goodnight and headed upstairs. The room was small, but I was used to much worse conditions. Even though I wanted to go and sleep off my first day I made myself take a bath.

My body was submerged fully in water. I was holding my breath and letting the water wash away the tension. I sat up when my lungs started to hurt. Leaning back on the bath I took a deep breath. The water was lukewarm, but I liked to sit in the tub until it was ice cold. I let myself relax closing my eyes and focusing on the tension leaving my sore muscles.

I looked around the field lighted by the rising sun. The grass was covered with the morning dew and I could hear birds chirping in the nearby forest. The surroundings gave off a calming vibe, but I was tense seemingly waiting. And I wasn't wrong, because soon I heard footsteps behind me.

"You made me wait." His velvety voice reached my ears and I could feel the warmth from his body on my back.

"I ran." My voice was void of emotions and I knew it would drive him mad.

"And I promised we'll meet again." I could tell he was growing annoyed with me, quickly. He was never a patient man, but oh how many times did I cross the line.

"How did you reach me?" I asked glancing over my shoulder. He was only centimetres from me, his eyes focused only on me.

"Even you get tired of running, my little eclipse." His hand ran over my arm delicately. I suppressed the shiver, I couldn't tell if it was from disgust or want.

"You won't find me. I'll ran as long and as far I can. I promised you that. And I will keep true to my word." I growled in anger. I was angry at him for still looking, for playing with my mind and heart. I was mad at myself for caring, believing and still being weak.

I turned around sharply and looked into his eyes. He was handsome, but sometimes the most beautiful creatures are the most dangerous ones.

"You will be by my side once again. You'll come to me, soon."

I gasped waking up. The water turned cold. I took few deep breaths to calm my racing heart. This was not good. Something was changing and I could tell it will be my downfall.

#fanfiction #writing #fanfic #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #grishaverse #kaz brekker series #the story of two broken souls #requests are open

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spine-buster · 2 years

Text

Lost in the Memory | Ryan O'Reilly | Volume II

gif credit @/leafsgm

A/N: I'm so happy with the reception this has gotten despite the mystery surrounding their relationship! Please continue to ask any and all canon questions you have on these two! I hope this chapter clears up some questions, too.

“You’ll have to fly back to Toronto without us. If it’s a broken finger, they’ll know and they’ll fix it tomorrow so you’re good to go down the road for us. Do you have someone that would be able to look after you post-surgery?”

“It’s finger surgery, Whit. I’m not getting a quadruple bypass.”

“But it’s still surgery, Snook,” Whitney lamented. “I don’t like to see you hurt. Anywhere. As big as your foot or as little as your finger.”

Ryan could hear the tone of Whitney’s voice, how worried she was, even though it was minor surgery. While she always supported him throughout his hockey career, even when he was a kid, she was always nervous about injuries. She saw Gareth have broken arms, knee injuries, and even a collarbone fracture during his own playing time. “Hey…c’mere,” he cooed, extending his arms and bringing her in for a hug. “It’s just a thirty-minute surgery. I’m not even being put under – it’s local anesthesia. No need to worry about me, sweetness.”

He watched as Whitney considered his words. One part of him knew she’d never stop worrying about him, and another part knew it would calm her, at least slightly. “Imagine being put under completely just for a little finger,” she half-joked.

He smiled. “My fingers aren’t little though. You remind me of that all the time.”

She smacked him on his forearm. “Snook!”

“Ow!” he faked how hurt he was. “Don’t injure me more, Whit!”

“You pervert!”

His smile was wide, the gap in his teeth making her swoon. “So you’ll pick me up?” he asked.

“Yes, I’ll drop you off and pick you up,” she confirmed. “But I want payment though. Payment through ice cream or something.”

“I’ll do you one better,” Ryan smirked. “After surgery, how about we go out to Goderich for a few days?”

Whitney’s eyebrows rose. “You’re allowed?”

Ryan nodded. “The boys are getting back in town midnight Wednesday. Next practice isn’t until Friday, before Saturday’s game.”

“Three nights alone with you in Goderich? You’re spoiling me, Ry.”

He leaned down to kiss her, his arms wrapping around her body and her arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. “You know how much I love to spoil you,” he mumbled against her lips. “So that’s a yes?”

As if Whitney would say no to going to Ryan’s cottage on Lake Huron. She wasn’t doing anything better.

***

The drive out to Goderich, on the shores of Lake Huron, was like most other drives Whitney and Ryan took: it had Timbits, it had good music, and it had…hands. Because of his local anesthesia, Ryan was in the passenger side this time, while Whitney was driving his rental – a Range Rover, because of course. Ryan controlled the playlist, playing some of their favourite songs but also indulging Whitney in some of the new Taylor Swift songs. It reminded him of when he surprised her by learning “Jump Then Fall” from Taylor’s Fearless album that came out when Whitney was thirteen. Then, when Speak Now came out when she was fifteen, he learned “Sparks Fly”, her favourite song off the album. Whitney told him he would have to learn a new song of Taylor’s every time she released a new album; Ryan obliged: “All Too Well” from Red, “Style” from 1989, “New Year’s Day” on Reputation, “Cornelia Street” on Lover, “August” on folklore (the whole album, really – she forced him), and “ivy” on evermore (the whole album again, really). She’d have to request that he learn “Sweet Nothing” off Midnights.

The air was much more crisp in Goderich, especially in March. When she parked the car in the driveway and stepped out, Whitney could feel it. She inhaled deeply. It felt like summers. It felt like home. Even though home was Toronto now, and had been for almost ten years. City air and country air were just different.

“Good to be home, hmm?” Ryan asked, seemingly reading her mind.

She nodded. “Good to be home.”

They brought their bags in and Ryan disabled the alarm. Whitney set them down in the laundry room, intent on bringing them into the bedroom later – it wasn’t like she and Ryan would be in many clothes anyway. He turned on a few lights before grabbing the controller and pressing the button to have the automated blinds rise. The house consisted of a main room overlooking the lake, with a glass hallway and three bedrooms, each designed like their own little pods, also overlooking the lake. The master bedroom, at the end of the hall, had floor-to-ceiling windows and a beautiful balcony that looked over everything.

They both watched as the blinds rolled all the way up and exposed the view. The part of the lake in front of the house was still frozen over. The sky was a bright blue, the sunshine illuminating the snow. On a corner shelving unit, on the right side of the giant window, Whitney saw the array of picture frames organized that she always loved to look over. They were filled with pictures of childhood memories. O’Reilly family reunions. Birthday parties. Halloweens. Pictures from school. Playing hockey outside. On the top shelf, an 8x10, alone: a picture of Ryan and Gareth with their arms around each other’s shoulders, smiling from ear to ear.

“I’ll never get sick of this view,” Whitney said to distract herself from how the picture made her feel.

“Me neither,” Ryan said. “It’s the best, isn’t it?”

Since the surgery happened earlier that morning, Ryan and Whitney arrived just in time for lunch. But because Ryan hadn’t been at the house in months, there was no fresh food – just whatever was in the cupboards or freezer. “Should I make us something?” Whitney asked.

“If I even have anything. Otherwise we can order from a restaurant in Goderich.”

Whitney moved towards the kitchen, moving around it like she had lived in the house for years. She practically had. She found some pasta, lentils, and canned tomatoes – of course she would, since they were three ingredients that made up one of Ryan’s favourite pasta dishes. “Pasta?” she held up the pack of spaghetti.

“Sounds good to me.”

She got started. Ryan brought their bags into the bedroom but didn’t reappear again until the water was almost boiling and the lentil bolognese was being prepared. Whitney looked over her shoulder. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Was just running the water in the ensuite to make sure it was okay.”

Whitney understood, having done the same for the kitchen faucet. She turned back around and dropped half the packet of spaghetti into the pot on boiling water. “Tub too? We gonna have a bubble bath tonight?”

Before she could hear Ryan, she felt him. He came up right behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, his chest flush against her. Nestling his head on her shoulder, he saw the corners of her lips smile. “We can,” his voice was husky. She could feel his breath on her skin. “You want to?”

“It would be nice,” Whitney’s voice was soft. “We need to have at least one by the time we go back to Toronto.”

“Deal,” Ryan said, kissing where her neck met her shoulder lightly. They stood in silence together, his arms still wrapped around her, as the pasta boiled and the sauce heated up in a pan. Whitney would stir the spaghetti occasionally with her free hand, the other arm placed on top of Ryan’s, their fingers intertwined. “I could stay like this for a while,” he said.

Whitney hummed happily. “Me too,” she agreed. “You know how much I love how your body feels, Snook. Especially like this. Just wrapped up in it.”

Ryan planted more small kisses along her shoulder and neck, and when Whitney craned her neck, he kissed her on the lips too. But like with any kiss on the lips with them, it couldn’t stop at just one; they always needed to have more. So one kiss turned to two and two turned to four, and four turned to Whitney turning to face him, which turned into Ryan picking her up and setting her on the counter. Ryan was in a hoodie and track pants, so Whitney wasted no time in sneaking her hands underneath the hoodie to feel his body, just as she wanted. His toned muscles and the hair on his chest – all of it. She loved all of it.

“God, Snook,” she breathed out as he kissed down her neck. “How do I ever live without your body?”

“How do I live without yours?” he asked back, his large hands squeezing her thighs.

At the same second that Ryan stuck his tongue down her throat again, the alarm on her phone sounded. Ryan groaned. Whitney couldn’t help but giggle. “Eight minutes for perfect al dente pasta,” she said.

“Make it nine.”

She reluctantly pulled away from his kiss. “Soggy pasta is gross, Snook,” she said, hopping off the counter and turning off the stove. Ryan watched and stayed silent as she drained the pasta and added it to the sauce and lentils, using a pair of tongs to mix it all together. They ate lunch in peace at the dining table, looking out onto the lake.

After finishing and loading the dishwasher, they went back to what they did best, except this time in bed. They lay side-by-side, their legs entangled and their hands exploring. Ryan had gotten rid of his hoodie, his t-shirt the last piece of fabric to come between Whitney’s hands and his body; Whitney could feel the heat between her legs begin to build as Ryan’s hand wandered all over her body. Sneaking her hands underneath his t-shirt again, she dragged her fingernails up and down his body, and could feel his hand move down to her ass, squeezing it before slipping in between her legs.

Ryan sat up momentarily and Whitney helped him take off his shirt; afterwards, Whitney wiggled out of her leggings as Ryan dragged them down, kicking them off with her feet. Her shirt and bra came off soon after, her breasts pressed between their bodies against Ryan’s chest. Their lips were already red from so much kissing, but they didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Ryan’s hand went back in between her legs, cupping her over her underwear.

“God, Whit, you’re already so hot,” Ryan mumbled against her lips.

She responded by hiking her leg over his torso to give him better access. She could feel his hand move her underwear to the side, his fingers slipping up and down her pussy. Her breath hitched in her throat. “Stop teasing, Ry.”

“Thought you liked to be teased,” Ryan said, acquiescing and sticking one finger inside of her slowly, but easily.

Whitney whimpered, her hips grinding against his. One wasn’t enough. One was never enough. “More. More, Ry.”

He slipped a second finger into her, just as easily. She whimpered again, especially when he began moving them in and out, up and down, curling them and hitting that sweet spot that caused her hips to buck and for her to cry out his name. With whatever conscience she had left, Whitney snaked her hand down between their two bodies, slipping it underneath the band of his boxers and grabbing hold of his cock. She could hear him groan at the contact, their lips parting momentarily. “See what you do to me?” he asked, feeling her pumping him slowly.

Whitney didn’t respond – couldn’t respond – because his fingers had curled in her again. “Keep doing that, Ry. It feels so good.”

Ryan took the opportunity to pull of Whitney’s underwear, leaving her naked against his body as they spooned and got each other off. Whitney kept stroking him until he was rock hard, pushing off his boxers too. They lay in bed like that until Whitney felt herself becoming close, and when she did, she made sure to hike her leg up ever so slightly and guide his cock towards her entrance. He took his fingers out and replaced them with his cock, much to both their pleasures. They moaned at the same time over the feeling of being able to fill her up at this angle.

“Does’at feel good, Ry?” she asked between laboured breaths after a while of moving in and out of her.

Ryan nodded. “I love having you so close like this. Your body against mine,” he said. “It’s amazing this way.”

“Yeah,” Whitney nodded in agreement. “I love it like this. I love your body, Snook.” She dug her fingernails into his shoulders. One of Ryan’s hands was pushing her hair away from her face so gently, pumping in and out of her slowly and passionately, wanting to make it last. She wanted it to last too, as long as possible. Until dinner and the game? Until midnight? She didn’t care. It had happened before, during one of her secret trips to Buffalo. Ryan had had a particularly good game and they went all night, round after round after round. Whitney called in a sick day because she was so well-fucked that she knew she wouldn’t be able to make it back in time. Nor did she want to, really.

As Whitney and Ryan continued, Whitney could feel herself getting close. Her nails dug deeper and deeper into Ryan’s shoulders, and, eventually, she moved to tug at the hair on the nape of his neck. Ryan groaned at the feeling, and at Whitney soon crying his name over and over again as he felt her walls tighten around him. It was only when he could feel her breathing steady that he spoke again. “Sweetness—baby—”

“Let me ride you, baby,” she said, pushing slightly so Ryan would roll onto his back. He did and she climbed on top of him, Ryan grabbing his cock and positioning it so she could lower herself easily onto it once again. “Fuck, baby. That feels so good.”

Ryan’s hands immediately went to cup her breasts, teasing her nipples as she began to grind back and forth. “You’re so beautiful, Whit,” he mumbled, admiring the view he had of her on top of him. “Just so fucking beautiful.”

“And you’re so handsome,” she couldn’t help but smile as her hands went to his chest to steady herself. “You’re so good to me, Snook. You take care of me.”

“Ride me, sweetness. Like you love to do.”

Her nails dug into his chest, because she was already close when they were spooning. She tried to make it last as long as possible, even shooing away Ryan’s hand as it crept closer to her clit. She got louder as she continued to ride him, and after some time, she felt another orgasm building. She looked into his eyes. Ryan grabbed her hands. “Can you feel it?”

She nodded quickly. “I’m gonna come again, Snook. Are you close too?”

“Can I come inside you, sweetness?”

“I hate it when you don’t,” was how she chose to respond, because it was true. She was obsessed with how he felt inside her (and she knew he was equally obsessed with how he felt inside her), which is why they were always going at one another. She would have almost thought it was embarrassing, them going at it like horny teenagers all the time, if she didn’t feel an overwhelming sense of love every time they did. It didn’t matter if it was quickie or a marathon. Ryan knew how to treat her inside and outside the bedroom. She just wished he wasn’t so hard on himself.

Whitney felt his hot cum filling her just as she wanted, the both of them crying out each other’s names in the pure ecstasy of the moment. Eventually, Whitney collapsed onto Ryan’s body, letting the last of her shaking leave her. Ryan wrapped his arms completely around her, holding her close against his body. As always, when he slipped out of her, she whimpered at the feeling. “I’ve never loved anybody like I love you, Whitney,” he whispered, his chest still heaving up and down.

“Me too, Snook,” she replied, her voice equally as quiet and soft. “Nobody else compares to you. Nobody has and nobody will.”

So why won’t you call me your girlfriend, Snook?

Whitney immediately pushed her thought into a place in her mind she hoped she’d never have to acknowledge again. They were silent for a while, letting the words sink in. They expressed similar romanticisms to each other all the time, especially after sex, but every time was equally as sentimental. Hearing them felt especially magical when they reunited after having not seen each other in a while: during the season when Whitney would visit in St. Louis or Buffalo or Colorado, or when he was visiting Toronto for a game, or the first time when he came home in the summers. Now that he was home, she could only imagine how often she’d hear the words. They never got old.

When her breathing steadied, she looked at the clock on the bedside table to see the time. She looked back at Ryan to see his eyes already fluttering. She couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. “Time for your pre-game nap?” she asked.

He tightened his grip around her. “Sleep with me,” he said.

“I just did,” she smirked down at him.

Ryan groaned playfully at her joke. “C’mon sweetness.”

“Let me go clean up and I’ll be back,” she said, wiggling slightly to get out of his grip.

“Don’t take too long. I can’t sleep without you.”

***

Later that night, Ryan and Whitney cuddled on the couch under a blanket, watching the Leafs face the New Jersey Devils. She’d changed into one of his old shirts, and they’d ordered some burgers and fries from one of their favourite diners in Goderich. Ryan even went out to the shed to get some wood for the fireplace. It was all very romantic.

It was only in the intermission between the second and third period, when Whitney went into the kitchen to make some popcorn, did feelings shift completely for her. While she waited as it popped, she wandered over to the giant window, and to the shelving unit that housed all the pictures. Gareth was in almost all of them. The only ones he wasn’t in were the ones specifically of Ryan’s family. But in any of the others, Gareth stood out like a sunbeam, because that was what he was. He was always smiling ear to ear or making a funny face. In a Halloween photo, he’d dressed up as The Monster, and Ryan dressed up as Dr. Frankenstein. That Halloween they pushed a three-year-old Whitney dressed as Winnie the Pooh in a wagon when she got tired. In another photo, Ryan and Gareth posed on the ice together, buckets off, with matching hockey flow. In another photo, Cal, Tara, Ryan, Shannon, Owen, Gareth, and Whitney all posed together around a campfire as teenagers and young adults, making smores, their faces covered in marshmallow and chocolate. In another, all of them as kids at a beach in Goderich, having buried Owen under the sand. In another, Ryan with Whitney on his shoulders and Gareth with Shannon on his shoulders in a pool. In another, Ryan holding the Stanley Cup in his strong arms, and tipping it over so Whitney could drink champagne out of it. In another, the O’Reilly family and the Napier family all posing together at Ryan’s Stanley Cup party. Without Gareth.

When she got back to the couch with the two bowls of popcorn, Whitney was quiet, reserved, and in her own head. Ryan noticed right away. Even physically, she cuddled into his body even more than before, as if she needed to be as close to him as physically possible. She draped her legs over his lap and nestled into him. Thankfully, the Leafs won, but it didn’t make Whitney any happier. When the game was over and the panel on Sportsnet began talking about the game and the late game-winning goal by Auston, he put his empty bowl of popcorn on the end table and draped his arm across her thighs. “What are you thinking about?” Ryan asked as he pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder.

She was quiet for a few moments. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course,” there was another gentle kiss to her shoulder.

She was quiet again. Maybe she should lie. But she was incapable of lying to Ryan. With Ryan, sure, to fool other people. But fully incapable of lying to him. “I’m thinking about Gareth.”

Ryan kept his lips on her shoulder momentarily. “What about Gareth?”

“How much he would have loved this house,” Whitney said. “How much he would have loved that it’s right on the water. He always loved the lake so much and I’ve always found it…I don’t know – cruel, almost – that the lake took his life away from him.”

Ryan knew he would have to stay silent, for the most part. While Whitney opened up to him often, when she opened up about Gareth, it meant something more. Grief never faded, and it never went away. It stayed with all of them, all the time, and would come up in little moments. It would come up for Whitney whenever she saw trampolines, because Gareth loved trampolines when they were kids. It would come up for Ryan when the beginning squirts of ketchup would hit his plate and he’d remember that Gareth would make a sexual sound every time that happened at parties, family barbecues (as long as Shannon wasn’t around), and out at restaurants. It would come up for the both of them whenever they’d see people paddleboarding. “It’s so unfair,” Ryan said. “It’s unfair that he passed away doing something he loved so much.”

“Did you realize the ten-year anniversary is this summer?” she asked

“I did,” he nodded. “I’m guessing your parents will have a mass.”

“I mean, probably,” she said. “He—he would have gone crazy about you playing for the Leafs, Ry. He would have absolutely lost his mind. I think he still is up there—”

“—I think he still is up there—”

They said the words at the same time. They could only giggle slightly at the sentiment they shared together out loud. They both knew Gareth better than anyone else, so it was only natural. “I miss him so much,” Ryan said, his voice sombre.

“I miss everything about him,” she said. “Remember how mad he used to get when I used to distract you guys playing video games?”

“Mhm,” Ryan giggled. “You cost him a few Mario Kart wins, Whit. Remember how he baked you that cake for your 13th birthday and it was absolutely fucking horrible?”

Whitney snorted, the memory coming back to her like a tidal wave. “Oh my God. The thing was as hard as a rock!”

“How do you think I lost my tooth? It wasn’t hockey.”

Whitney couldn’t stop laughing at the memory. Gareth had been so proud of it. He made it from scratch, though he wouldn’t admit to the store-bought icing. He had emptied every sprinkle container that was in the family pantry and put thirteen candles, plus one for good luck, in a giant one and three. When he brought it out and everybody began singing, he pretended to fall. When Gareth told her to make a wish, she wished for a cat, and for him to make all her birthday cakes in the future. “He was so good. It’s not fair that he’s not with us.”

“I know. I wish he could be here to see all this.”

With the giggling about the funnier memories came the tears. It was inevitable. They were silent, and fell from her eyes quickly but silently as she continued to smile. She wiped them away quickly. It was how she liked to remember Gareth – goofy and loving and the life of the party – but it still brought her pain. Her voice trembled. “I wish he was here, Ryan. All the time.”

“Me too, Whit. Me too. C’mere,” he urged, wrapped an arm around her and holding her close so she could cry into his chest.

“It’s still so hard,” she cried. “It’s been ten years and sometimes I think it’s harder now than it was in those initial days. He didn’t get to see me grow up or graduate. He didn’t get to see Owen become a doctor. He didn’t get to see you win the Stanley Cup. And it hurts because that’s all he ever wanted – everything he did was for other people. All he wanted was to see us do well and it hurts that he couldn’t see us.”

“He’s watching, Whit. Remember that,” he whispered, rubbing her back tenderly as she cried into his chest. “He’s still with us in a different way.”

Whitney wiped her tears again. She knew Ryan was right, but it was hard to accept. Gareth, in his own way, looked after everybody, and one of the main ways he did it was by putting a smile on someone’s face, or making them laugh, or telling them “That’s amazing!” or “I’m really proud of you!” to boost their confidence or make them feel seen. Whitney hadn’t felt that in ten years; neither had Ryan. It left a hole in them that would never be filled. She looked up at him, tears still welling in her eyes. “You always take care of me, Snook,” she said.

“It’s what I was meant to do,” he said, giving her a peck.

She nestled back into his chest, savouring the feeling as he continued to rub her back until she fell asleep in his arms.

***

“What did you get up to while you were away from us?” John asked Ryan after practice on Friday, before the game against Edmonton.

“Just headed out to the cottage in Goderich, made sure everything was okay,” Ryan revealed. “Yours is in Muskoka, right?”

“Yeah. No chance of being able to go up there in the days off, though. Not worth the drive and the haul with the boys. It’s like you have to plan for a cross-country road trip with them even though it’s only a two-hour drive.”

Ryan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Bet there’s a lot of Timbits to keep ‘em quiet during the drive.”

“Timbits and iPad time,” John nodded. “That girl that came with your parents to the game against Minnesota – she’s from Goderich?”

“Whitney. And no – Varna, where I grew up,” Ryan clarified. “Same small town as me. Just a few houses away from each other, actually.”

“Aryne really liked her. They got to talking at the game and Aberdeen’s surprise party,” John revealed. “Bee, too – really liked her.”

“You close with Bee?” Ryan asked.

John smiled genuinely. “I’m kinda like her surrogate older brother,” he said. “Aryne’s in her wedding party. Her surrogate older sister.” Ryan understood what John was saying. “Does she live in Toronto? Whitney, I mean.”

“Uh, yeah. Over in Summerhill.”

John’s eyebrows rose momentarily. It was a pretty expensive neighbourhood, so Ryan understood why. Not that Ryan would explain that he bought the house for her. “I know she’s a family friend or whatever, but feel free to invite her to games,” John offered.

“Yeah?”

“If the girls are asking for her, they must like her.”

***

“Ryan gave you an O’Reilly jersey, right?” Aberdeen asked through the phone. She’d somehow gotten Whitney’s number, which she didn’t mind because Aberdeen was very nice.

“Oh, definitely,” Whitney informed her. “Why do you ask?”

“Make sure you wear something hot underneath it,” Aberdeen said unexpectedly. “After the boys win, we’re going out for Matilda’s birthday. To Isabelle’s.”

While Whitney appreciated the confident tone in Aberdeen’s voice asserting that the boys would win on Saturday, Isabelle’s was one of the hottest clubs in Toronto. Whitney’s eyes immediately went wide at the mention. She stopped leaning in her chair at her desk at work and put her feet solidly on the ground. “Isabelle’s? Really? That’s quite exclusive.”

“Auston always makes the reservations for these sorts of things,” Aberdeen was very matter-of-fact. “Everybody always says yes to him. I mean – he’s Auston Matthews, you know? He’s good for at least one thing.”

Whitney giggled. “I haven’t been in a club in years. I mean, I’m twenty-seven. I feel like I’m gonna stick out like a sore thumb. Ryan too.”

“Oh don’t worry, darling. We’re all really hot so it doesn’t matter,” Aberdeen assured her. “It’s about dancing and having a good time. You dance, right?”

“I love dancing.”

“Then it’s settled. You, me, on the dance floor with negroni sbagliatos.”

***

“Oh wow, that looks hot,” Aberdeen swooned as she gave Whitney a full up-down in the washroom right after the game. Whitney had changed out of her jersey that she’d been wearing all game to reveal her outfit: high-waisted black leather pants and a burgundy-coloured crop top. The leather pants weren’t tight, but they still accentuated her body perfectly, and the crop top, with its lace trim, spaghetti straps, and little tie-up bow in the centre was exactly the right fit. Aberdeen didn’t even get to see why Whitney’s boobs or ass looked so good in the clothes – what Whitney was wearing underneath was a whole other story. Pink. Push up. Cheeky panties with garter clips, already attached to thigh-highs with lace bands and a back seam. For Ryan’s eyes only. And totally a surprise. She almost wanted to take a mirror selfie and send it to him as a little tease, but she decided against it. The surprise would stay a surprise.

“Thanks,” she smiled, digging into her purse to find her lip liner.

“Are those the Aritzia pants?”

“You betcha.”

“How are you getting home tonight?” Bee asked, ever the responsible one, her beautiful engagement ring shimmering in the bright light of the washroom.

“Ryan’ll just call a taxi…for me,” she almost forgot to add at the end of the sentence. “Depends when we get out, too. If the subways are still running, my place isn’t that far of a walk from Summerhill station.”

Aberdeen giggled slightly. “I doubt Ryan will want you taking the subway at one in the morning. Or any of us for that matter.”

“You must go to Terroni a lot,” Bee said quickly after.

Whitney gave her a look through the mirror, smiling with her eyes as she reapplied colour to her lips. “Way too much. Their spaghetti in canna al mare is probably my favourite dish in the city.”

“I don’t disagree, but have you been to Sugo?” Aberdeen asked. “Their ricotta gnocchi. Or their meatballs. Or their spaghetti. Or their everything!”

“Ryan’s taken me to Sugo a few times,” Whitney smiled. “You’re right – their ricotta gnocchi are to die for. I eat a plate and take one to go.”

Bee and Aberdeen gave each other a look at the mention of Ryan’s name again.

***

Ryan and Whitney took a cab with Bee and Morgan to Isabelle’s. They got into the club without issue once they mentioned Auston’s reservation, and by that time, Pierre, Matilda, Rasmus, Lusine, and a few others were already in the booth in short skirts and high heels taking a shot together. Whitney saw the look on Ryan’s face when she took off her coat and he got a view of her entire outfit. Ryan was dressed in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and blue suit pants. He looked incredible. So fucking hot that Whitney didn’t know how long she’d be able to last keeping her hands off him. The music was already loud, and the club already full. She could tell it was going to be a fun night. It was going to be hard to keep up a façade Whitney didn’t completely know why they were keeping up in the first place.

She and Aberdeen went up to the bar and ordered negroni sbagliattos. When they got back to the booth, Matilda and Bee pulled them onto the dance floor, Oye Mi Canto by Daddy Yankee and Nina Sky blasting. They began dancing together, moving their bodies to the music song after song. Eventually, Whitney watched as Rasmus made his way onto the dance floor, sneaking up behind Lusine and snaking his hands around her hips and body. Then Whitney saw Morgan, too, with what looked like an old fashioned in his hand, come up and snake an arm around Bee before she spun around and they began dancing together.

When Whitney felt a body behind her, she knew right away that it wasn’t Ryan’s. It didn’t feel like his at all – it wasn’t strong or warm, and her body didn’t react immediately to it like she always did. She looked over her shoulder to see a good-looking guy – well, good-looking enough, but definitely not as handsome as Ryan – with rosy cheeks and a giant smile on his face. He was dressed similarly to Ryan, with a collared shirt and nice pants on. “Hey!” he screamed too loudly, considering how close he was.

“Hi,” Whitney smiled.

“What’s your name?”

“Whitney.”

“I’m David!” he was continuously loud. “It’s nice to meet you!” They weren’t exactly in a position to shake hands, but she turned around to face him anyway. She saw that his eyes were a bit glassed over, but all that indicated to Whitney was that he was, at the very least, already buzzed. “You’re hooooot, Whitney.”

“Thanks, David,” she winked. She saw Aberdeen keeping a watchful eye. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“You here with anybody?”

Whitney hesitated. “I’m here with friends,” she chose to say, hoping that would save her. “For a birthday.”

“Here for a bit of fun?” David asked.

“Why are you asking? Am I gonna have fun with you?” she countered.

David’s eyebrows raised. “We can have fun right now!” he was overly excited, already starting to lean in.

“Whoa whoa whoa! Slow down Casanova!” Whitney brought her hand up to cover his face. “I’m a lady! You need to buy me a drink first.”

“Come on!” he tried to lean in again.

“Leave my friend alone!” Aberdeen yelled, stepping in between them while still dancing – the perfect manoeuvre for separation. “Let her dance!”

“Get out of the way! What are you, her bodyguard?” David asked.

“I might be!”

David gave up so easily. He turned around and rejoined his buddies, his eyes already scanning nearby for another girl to torment. Aberdeen looked over at Whitney. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. What a jerk!” she exclaimed.

“Ryan’s coming up right behind you,” Aberdeen nodded her head over Whitney’s shoulder, signalling his impending arrival.

Whitney turned around to come face-to-face with Ryan. “Was that guy hitting on you?”

“Yeah,” Whitney said, loud enough so Aberdeen would hear. “He’d be so much cuter if he wasn’t such a jerk.”

Whitney had said variations of that same phrase countless times before in front of Ryan while they were with others that it didn’t mean anything to him anymore, because obviously they both knew she was still going home with him at the end of the night. But it definitely sent Aberdeen for a loop. She knew that at her surprise party and even now she had alcohol in her system, but was her judgement really that warped from it? She thought for certain that Whitney and Ryan were hiding something, because, well, Aberdeen was the queen of hiding something, so she could sniff this stuff out a mile away. But Ryan’s reaction to Whitney’s words – or lack thereof, honestly – was messing with her. So…Ryan really didn’t care? They were really just friends that had grown up together?

Whitney tried looking around for Rasmus and Lusine on the dance floor, but they were nowhere to be found. By virtue of it being a club, the pumping music and all the people dancing around them meant that in just a few quick moments, they were separated from Aberdeen. Whitney could still see her, but Aberdeen wouldn’t be able to hear them. “You having fun with the boys?” she asked.

“You trying to make me jealous or something?” Ryan asked with a smirk on his face.

“I don’t have to,” Whitney said. “There’s no girl in this club who could give you what I can.”

“You’re right about that,” he said.

“Bet there’s a couple of girls who have already approached and propositioned you though, huh Mr. Maple Leaf? Have you flirted with any girls yet?”

“Now why would I say yes to that when I’m going home to this at the end of the night?” he asked rhetorically.

Why are we even keeping up this façade?

Whitney immediately pushed her thought out of her mind. Again. “Whitney! Over here!” she could see Matilda and Bee calling out to her, already swaying their hips to the beat. She gave Ryan one last look, one last smirk. “Are you going to be able to wait that long?”

***

Whitney took a separate taxi home than Ryan, and she even left earlier, but he somehow arrived back up in Summerhill before her. She could tell by the light through her bedroom window. She paid the driver and tipped generously before unlocking the door and walking in, taking off her shoes and setting down her purse.

She walked slowly, and stood in the doorway of the bedroom momentarily to see Ryan had taken a seat on the foot of the bed. “I saw the way you looked at me when I took off my coat,” Whitney said as she shut the door behind her, stepping further into her bedroom. She stopped a few feet away from him. “You seemed shocked.”

“Shocked? No,” he shook his head. “More like…stunned. I was in a daze the rest of the night,” Ryan said. “New top, hmm?”

Whitney smiled, sauntering over to him. “Mhmm,” she nodded, playing with the strings of the tie-up bow on her chest.

“Looks good.”

“It better. I bought it for you,” she whispered, stepping between his legs.

“Oh yeah?”

“Wait till you see what’s underneath,” she said, her hands moving outward to his shoulders, massaging them slightly. “I bought that for you too.”

Ryan’s large hands grabbed on to her waist, where the exposed skin between her crop top and pants lay. They looked into each other’s eyes for a while, Whitney massaging his shoulders, until she took her hands off him and brought them back to the tie-up bow on her chest, ready to untie it. Before she could even pull, Ryan’s hands came up and stopped hers. “No no no,” his voice was rushed whispers. “I do that.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Slow down, Whit,” he whispered, pulling her body closer, his lips kissing at her exposed skin on her midriff. She closed her eyes. She felt the kisses. She felt his hands. She felt his hot breath on her skin. “I just want to observe your body.”

Whitney could already feel her breath getting heavy. Their eyes met briefly before she followed his eyes wandering along her entire body, getting lost in every curve. His hands followed after his eyes, gliding over her neck, her breasts, her hips, and her ass. “You look so sexy, sweetness,” he whispered as his lips met her skin again. “So sexy and it’s all for me, right?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “All for you.”

He stood up, his body looming over hers, and cupped her face with his hands, giving her a kiss. As he kissed her, he dropped his hands and held both of hers, continuing his kissing along her jawline, down and across her neck and clavicle, and over the mounds of her breasts pushed up by whatever surprise was waiting for him underneath. “Look at this body, this beautiful skin,” he breathed out, his lips dragging against her skin.

“Ry—"

“This perfect body, all for me,” he spun them around slowly, giving her more kisses along her neck. On instinct, Whitney’s hand went to the waist of her pants. The second it got there, Ryan’s hand was there to grab it. “Don’t touch yourself.”

“But Ry—”

“Don’t do it. Let me touch you. Let me worship your body.”

Whitney gulped. She watched as he brought one of his hands up to untie the bow on her top. Slowly. Taking his time. He noticed a peek of pink material under her burgundy top. He hooked his fingers underneath her top and pulled it over her head, showcasing the pink push-up bra she was wearing. She saw his pupils dilate at the sight of her breasts in her bra, her perfect cleavage taunting him, reminding him of other times she’d get dressed up for him like this. Usually it was special occasions – this definitely wasn’t one, but he wasn’t complaining. He caressed her exposed skin, placing more kisses on the mounds of her breasts now that they were exposed. He could hear her breathing getting heavier, her chest heaving up and down as she ran her fingers through his hair. “I got your favourite, Ry. Pink.”

His hands moved down to the button and zipper of her pants, again taking his time. Whitney tried to help him along. “Don’t do it, don’t do it,” he warned. “Let me. Only me, sweetness.”

Whitney almost couldn’t take it. He took forever to undo the button and zipper, pulling the pants down her legs slowly, revealing every little piece she was wearing one by one. The panties. The garter clips. The thigh-highs with lace. “You were wearing all this the whole time?” he asked.

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You wanted to spoil me,” he corrected. “Look at you. I’m fucking obsessed with you, sweetness.”

She definitely felt that – that he was obsessed with her. She felt like her entire body was on fire. Seeing the absolute lust in Ryan’s eyes as he looked over her body turned her on completely. A shiver ran up her spine as she saw his chest heave up and down at how she looked. And to think, he looked even better in his dress shirt and pants. “If I’m not allowed to touch myself, Ry, you better,” she warned.

“Lie down on the bed,” he ordered.

Whitney did as she was told. She posed seductively for him, despite keeping to the rule not to touch herself, as Ryan stood looming over her at the foot of the bed. He began to unbutton his shirt, but Whitney had other ideas. “Don’t, Snook. Keep it on.”

He eyed her. “Yeah?”

“Unbutton. And roll up your sleeves. But keep it on.”

Ryan kept his eyes locked between Whitney and his forearm as he fixed his sleeves. Whitney could have come right then and there, just watching him, if only she was allowed to touch herself. He unbuttoned his shirt before taking one last look at her body posed and sprawled for him, waiting for him. “You’re so beautiful, Whit. I’m a lucky guy.”

He watched her smile. “I’m a lucky girl to have you all to myself, Snook.”

When can we start sharing our relationship with other people, Snook?

He crawled into bed, his body looming over hers. They kissed, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths, before Ryan continued with his kisses all over her body. Literally every inch was covered from her neck to her ankles. Whitney was sure she had never felt so turned on in her life. He took his time to cover every inch, using his lips, his tongue, and his hands to worship her body with everything he had in him. She was breathless by the end of it all. “Ry—oh my God…” she could barely get out.

“I could get drunk on you, sweetness. Let me worship you.”

“I need you so bad,” she begged. “This is perfect, Ry. Touch me. Please.”

Ryan complied, his hand going to her hot core. Her panties were already wet. He touched her through the fabric but decided that wasn’t good enough, so he hooked his fingers in the material and slid them down her legs. She whimpered when his fingers returned, teasing her lips and driving her crazy. “You’re already so fucking wet,” Ryan said.

“You did this to me. You make me feel this way,” she told him. “Only you.”

Ryan crashed his lips onto hers, his fingers still teasing her. “Not Calum or Aaron?”

Whitney shook her head and bit her lip. “Not even close,” she said. “The best part of being with them was still hooking up with you during it. And when we couldn’t I’d always picture you, anyways. They could never make love to me like you could, because I’ve only ever been yours.”

“All mine. Always.”

Calum and Aaron: Whitney’s ex-boyfriends. Calum, from university, and Aaron, from after she graduated. Calum lasted eighteen months. Aaron lasted a little less than two years. She had genuinely liked them, and wanted to be in a relationship with them. And they were good guys. When she told Ryan, he was fine with it. She said, “But I’m not giving you up.” And she didn’t. She and Ryan continued what they were doing, hooking up every chance they got – in the summers, during her trips to visit him, during his short visits to Toronto for games. Whitney knew it was wrong but she did it anyway. She cheated with Ryan on her boyfriends. She wasn’t exactly proud, but it was Ryan. It was Snook. He was her forever, and she wasn’t going to stop being with her forever.

“When you were with Justine and Kayla, was it the same? Was your body still desperate for mine?” Whitney asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “They were never as beautiful as you. I’d always be thinking about you. I would count down the days until I could bury my cock deep inside you again.”

Justine and Kayla: Ryan’s ex-girlfriends. Justine in Colorado, and Kayla in Buffalo. Justine lasted two years. Kayla lasted just over a year. He had liked them, and found their relationship to be one of convenience instead of one that would stand the test of time – at least to him. He was sure they thought otherwise. When he told Whitney, she was fine with it. He said, “But I’m not giving you up.” And he didn’t. He and Whitney continued what they were doing, hooking up every chance they got. Ryan didn’t feel bad at all. He knew it was wrong, but he did it anyway. Because it was Whitney. His sweetness. He had promised Gareth he’d take care of her and he wasn’t going to back out of that promise for as long as he lived. She was his forever, and he wasn’t going to stop being with his forever.

Did that make them bad people? The thought still kept Whitney up at night.

“Do it now Snook. Nice and slow. Make it last.”

He unzipped his pants and pushed them down just enough to free his hard cock. He positioned himself and entered her slowly, causing her to cry out in pleasure. Then he grabbed her hands and held them over her head, thrusting into her at a steady pace. Whitney moved her hips along with his, but Ryan kept her request of taking it slow and passionately, making it last for what felt like hours. Eventually he let her hands go, and she slipped them underneath his dress shirt, feeling the slick sweat on his back stick to it. “Look at me, baby,” she said. “You see how good you make love to me?”

Ryan grunted in response. “Tell me how much you need me, sweetness.”

“I need you more than anything. You know that,” she said. “I need you with me forever. I need you to fuck me whenever you want. I need you to worship my body.”

“What else?”

Whitney tightened her legs around his torso, getting him even deeper inside her. “I need you to do what you love, Snook. Take care of me the rest of our lives. You love doing that, right?”

“Yeah. S’what I was made for.”

“That’s right. Take care of me. Love me. Worship my body like this.”

“I love you, Whit.”

“I love you too, Snook. Show me how much you love me. Take care of me.”

Does taking care of me mean marrying me, Snook?

Ryan quickened his pace, with Whitney’s screams getting louder from the pleasure and so she could block out her thoughts. Ryan didn’t let himself go until he could feel (and hear) Whitney’s orgasm move throughout her body – then and only then did he release what was pent up inside of him, what had been building since Whitney took off her coat in at Isabelle’s. He stayed inside of her as long as possible, and when his cock slipped out, he laid beside her. Her breasts had practically spilled out of her bra, and both their bodies were slick with sweat for how long they’d been going for.

They were silent for a long while, regaining their breath and re-thinking about everything that had just happened. “Snook?”

“Sweetness?”

“I—I know I’ve asked you this before, but—you don’t think I’m a bad person for cheating on Calum and Aaron, do you?”

“No way,” he said. “They weren’t good enough for you anyways. Do you think I’m a bad person for cheating on Justine and Kayla?”

“No,” Whitney answered without hesitation. “I would have—I don’t know if this is bad to say—”

“Say it, sweetness.”

“I would have, like, seduced you,” she revealed. “And, like, I wouldn’t have cared, either. I wasn’t going to let another girl have you.”

“You wouldn’t have had to do that. The day I don’t want you is the day I’m dead in a casket.”

Whitney couldn’t help but giggle. “Sometimes I don’t even think it’s cheating, what we did,” she continued. “And I don’t know why.”

“Because we love each other. Because you’re my sweetness,” he said.

Whitney could hear the tiredness in his voice. This could be a conversation for another day. Another day when her thoughts were threatening to bubble up more frequently. She gave him one last kiss. “Sleep tight, Snook,” she cooed as she lay her head on his chest.

“I will because you’re here, Whit.”

She felt his breathing steady. She felt his chest rise and fall with every breath. She tried to sleep. She really tried. But no matter how hard she tried, the thoughts kept coming back.

Why have we been doing this in secret for ten years?

Why can’t we be together officially?

Why won’t you call me your girlfriend?

Why won’t you marry me?

***

“If you bring up any of that chickpea pasta bullshit Tyson’s not gonna be the only one with a history of glass in his leg.”

Nate snorted at Ryan’s deadpan delivery. “Buddy, cool your engines.”

“Cool your engines? What are you, my grandmother?!”

“Chill!”

“This is a good restaurant. I like this place. You can’t embarrass me here,” Ryan said sternly, opening the door to Gusto 101. “I mean it, you freak. No funny business. Just be normal.”

The boys couldn’t stop giggling with each other as they were greeted by the hostess and led to their table. They couldn’t even stop when they sat down with their menus, keeping up with the jabs and the jokes between looking at the menu and ordering. It was just like when Nate got drafted again. Those were memorable days, when they were just kids – Nate, a gawky 18-year-old with bad teeth from Nova Scotia; and Ryan, a 22-year-old who played guitar with a penchant to take the younger kids under his wing. They hit it off right away. Nate became “The Dogg”. Ryan became “Factor”. They suffered through some, well…interesting teammates and seasons in Colorado together, even playing together multiple times at the World Championships. Now, they were both Stanley Cup Champions. While Ryan’s exit from Colorado would always be considered a bit messy, he enjoyed his time there, and Nate (and Tyson Barrie) were the reasons why. He kept in touch with both regularly, and visited in the summers. They always found themselves in Toronto at one point or another.

“Sucks that you had to get injured just a few games into the trade,” Nate remarked as they waited for their lunch – Nate ordered the branzino while Ryan ordered the cacio e pepe pasta.

“From friendly fire, too. It was Auston’s shot.”

“You’ll be back for the playoffs, though?” Nate asked. Ryan nodded. “You must be stoked that you’re here.”

“It’s exciting,” Ryan said, trying to contain his emotions. While Nate would have completely understood, they were also out in public. In Ryan’s car, or a hotel room, it would have been a different story. “When I found out, and I called my parents – I swear Nate, I don’t think I’ve ever heard my mom happier. Even the conversation I had with my dad. I’ll never forget it.”

“It’s a big deal,” Nate said. “It’s Toronto, man. You can be a piece of the legacy. You know that you have what it takes. And being healthy for the playoffs will only make you hungrier.”

Ryan was already itching to get back. Having a broken finger was annoying because the rest of him worked, but the smallest, almost-most-insignificant part of his body wasn’t working – and he had ten of them! It just so happened that one of the two most important fingers was broken. The psychological torture of not being able to play when he was so ready to fucking go, especially since he spent so much time already not playing due to his broken foot, was worse. “Yeah. I’ll be hungry. I want it again.”

“I want it again too, man. Watch it,” Nate joked.

“You come for me and I’m avenging Tyson. I’ll put you through a table,” Ryan deadpanned again.

Nate giggled. “Why do you always turn to violence bro? I thought all those guitars and folk music were supposed to mellow you out.”

Nate updated him on Colorado things, where he was living now and the dynamics of the team. When their meals came, they ate, but still talked through it. Ryan updated him on the dynamics of the Leafs and how he’d already been recognized while out and about in the city – something that rarely happened in both Colorado and St. Louis.

“You’re not living in a hotel, are you?” Nate asked.

“No way, dude.”

“Then where are you staying?”

Ryan hesitated. “Uh, up in Summerhill.”

Nate knew he’d heard the name of the neighbourhood before, but for a second, he couldn’t remember where from. It wasn’t just mentioned whenever he’d pop over to Toronto for the BioSteel camp in the summers, and it wasn’t because he’d ever been there before. And then it hit him. “Wait, you mean with your friend Whitney?”

“Yeah, with Whitney.”

Nate and Whitney met during Nate’s first season in Colorado. She’d visited Ryan during her Reading Week at Ryerson and took in three games. It was the February after Gareth had passed away, so it was still a very emotional time for Whitney and Ryan. Given that Whitney and Nate were the same age – she was only three days older than him – Ryan brought him and Tyson out with them every chance he got. She took a liking to them quickly (especially Tyson) and had a lot of fun on the trip in general. Nate and Tyson didn’t know they were hooking up, and they still didn’t know now. Just friends. She’s like my little sister. But Nate always found it odd that when he started flirting one night after a few beers, Ryan had pulled him aside. Absolutely the fuck not. Nate didn’t see what the big issue was since she was flirting back. Nate lay off, out of respect for Ryan, but he still found it odd.

Nate wondered whether he should even ask the question, but they were both grown men now, both Stanley Cup champions, both friends with respect for one another. “Anything ever happen with her?”

Ryan played the fool. “What do you mean?”

Nate rolled his eyes. “There was a reason why I was flirting with her when she came to Colorado during my rookie year. She’s cute, and she’s your type,” he said. “Has anything ever happened between you two?”

Ryan thought back to a few weeks ago, after the game in Buffalo, when he spit on her fingers and demanded she touch herself while giving him a blowjob. He thought back to just a few nights ago, where she got all dolled up for him in some pretty pink lingerie because she knew it was his favourite. “No. Nothing,” he shook his head.

“I can’t believe you, dude,” Nate said. “No no no – I don’t believe you—”

“—Nate, I told you she’s like my little sister—”

“Bull! That shit is said all the time. I bet you’ve been hooking up with her and you just haven’t told anyone.”

“Nate.”

“I’m just asking you to be honest with me, bro.”

“You want me to be honest? Okay, I’ll be honest,” Ryan prefaced. He’d have to hide this well. It wouldn’t be his proudest moment, but he had to do it. “You remember when she came during your rookie season and I told you about her brother dying?” Nate nodded his head. “Gareth was my best friend, Nate. And at 22 I had to see him die. And I had to help Whitney through it too. As my best friend lay in a casket, I promised him that I’d take care of Whit. I’m not backing out of that promise.”

Nate stayed silent for a few moments, the weight of the words hanging between the two men as they looked at each other. “Listen, man, I get it. I understand,” he said in a much calmer voice. “You guys have been through hell and back. But isn’t the best way to take care of her…I don’t know, loving her?”

“I do love her, just not in that way.”

“Does she know that? That you love her but not in that way? Because she hasn’t had a serious boyfriend in a while, right? What if she’s waiting for you?”

Ryan hesitated for the briefest of moments that Nate didn’t even notice. “She’s not waiting for me.”

“Are you waiting for her?”

“No.”

“Alright bro, alright. I’ll drop it,” Nate held his hands up slightly in defeat.

They continued talking about a myriad of other things. When the bill came, they fought over who’d pay. Ryan walked him back to his hotel and they hugged goodbye, despite knowing they’d see each other again at the arena after the game. Ryan decided to walk around a little bit. To think.

He thought about what Nate had to say about him and Whitney – about whether she was waiting for him or whether he was waiting for her. He had answered the questions definitively but not honestly, because he didn’t know the true answer. Was he unknowingly waiting? Was Whitney? But what superseded everything else was the promise he’d made to Gareth. Ryan wanted to think that he’d upheld it, even just in his personal life. Winning the Cup. Winning the Conn Smythe. But just buying a house for Whitney wasn’t enough. Supporting her and making sure she was financially stable wasn’t enough. What Ryan had a hard time admitting to himself was that he’d failed in his promise to Gareth, in many aspects, but in particular on July 9, 2015. When he was arrested for drunk driving.

But nobody knew the real story. Nobody knew that there wasn’t just two men in the truck that night. Nobody knew the real reason Ryan was on the road in the first place.

Nobody knew that Whitney had been in the truck with him.

Whitney had been at a summer party at the University of Western Ontario with some friends. She’d been drinking all day and night without pacing herself. It was the second summer since Gareth had passed away and she wasn’t taking it well. She was very clearly trying to mask all of her emotions in alcohol and it wasn’t working out. So, she did the only thing she thought to do: she called Ryan to pick her up. He came in his old truck with his friend Burnsey, from their own party, and picked up Whitney and her friend Jessica. They were all stuffed into the vintage trunk when Burnsey had the bright idea to get coffee to sober the girls up before they got home.

Disaster obviously struck. And when it did, the impact was so severe that they all jerked forward, but only Whitney’s head struck the dash – and struck it hard. So hard that she passed out momentarily.

Ryan freaked out. He knew for sure she had a concussion – he’d had his fair share in his lifetime, and Whitney passing out was a horrible sign. He automatically knew that he was going to get in trouble for this – it seemed like everything was moving at a million miles an hour – but that didn’t concern him. All he cared about was Whitney’s safety – that she didn’t get caught up in his trouble – and her health. He didn’t care about anything else. He looked directly at Jessica. “Get Whitney out. Get out.”

“But Ryan—”

“Carry her out. Go! She can’t be in here.”

“Bro, you can’t take the fall! Put her at the wheel passed out—” Burnsey began.

“Fuck off!!!” Ryan yelled at Burnsey, turning his attention back to Jessica. “Get. Whitney. Out!”

Jessica was at Western on a female wrestling scholarship, so it was very easy for her to get Whitney over her shoulder and run into the neighbourhood that was right behind the Tim Horton’s. After this, things became a blur, with Burnsey yelling that they needed to skip town and Ryan only caring out Whitney and whether or not she was okay. He remembered getting back in his car to find her. He remembered the police coming. He remembered the cops asking him to return to the Tim Horton’s, him asking them to make sure Whitney was okay and bring her to an emergency room, and the cops asking if she had been in the car with him. He remembered saying no.

He remembered getting arrested after failing the breathalyzer.

He was released easily on bail, and the first thing he did wasn’t to hire a lawyer. It was going to see Whitney in the hospital. She’d suffered a grade 2 concussion. The nurse told him that Whitney couldn’t remember where she was the night before or how she’d suffered the concussion, and was positive Whitney would suffer post-concussion symptoms. Her memory was foggy, she was experiencing headaches and dizziness, she was sensitive to light, and she couldn’t focus for more than a few minutes on something. She was also crying a lot – emotional regulation was usually an issue in concussions.

“She seems to be speaking a bit of gibberish too, which is confusing,” the nurse told him. “Do you know what or who a Snook is? She keeps asking for Snook. ‘Where’s Snook?’ ‘I need Snook.’ What or who is a Snook?”

When Whitney woke up, she cried when she saw him. The nurse finally realized who Snook was.

Mr. Napier was called when she was discharged since Ryan couldn’t drive for 48 hours. Mr. Napier was angry, understandably, and when the kids were home, Brian O’Reilly came over and demanded the full story from Ryan, who was honest with them both. A lawyer was called.

The entire event still angered Ryan to think about. It upset him more than anything else, and it made him so disappointed in himself. For his carelessness, for his stupidity. It didn’t matter that his reputation took a huge blow, especially after the arrest made the news. It didn’t matter that people made jokes about it, that whenever his name was mentioned now, or anybody wanted to make a joke about him, all they had to mention was Tim Horton’s and everybody understood the reference. It didn’t matter that he was going to go to court and would have to defend himself. What mattered the most was that his stupidity and his carelessness hurt Whitney. He gave her a concussion. A grade 2 concussion. She spent almost two months with headaches and dizziness and other post-concussion symptoms, crying often because it was hard to do the things she loved and hard to regulate her emotions. Ryan had promised a dead Gareth only two years prior as he lay in his casket that he would take care of Whitney, and he hadn’t done that. The incident ruined him emotionally, and he still hadn’t gotten over it. He’d hurt the one person he loved most in the world. He couldn’t live with himself.

He hadn’t taken care of her. He hadn’t protected her, and Ryan had convinced himself that he couldn’t protect her up to the standard he pushed on himself.

He couldn’t risk hurting her again.

***

Whitney had an array of photo albums in the house that chronicled her childhood. She’d made copies of the photos in the albums her parents had so she didn’t have to go over there every time she wanted to reminisce. School days, family trips, birthdays, backyard shenanigans with her brothers and friends. Organized in chronological order, of course.

There a few pictures in particular that brought her so much joy. A picture of her, Owen, and Gareth at her thirteenth birthday, with the cake Gareth made from scratch that was as hard as a rock. She loved the picture because she remembers being so happy in that moment. A picture of her, her mother, her maternal grandmother, and her great grandmother: four generations of Gray women, reunited in North Berwick, Scotland. A picture of Owen, Gareth, their dad, their paternal grandfather, and their great-grandfather: four generations of Napier men reunited in Edinburgh, Scotland, during the same trip. A picture from her Sweet Sixteen where Cal, Owen, Tara, Gareth, Ryan, and Shannon decorated a ridiculous hot pink cowboy hat with pompoms, stickers, patches, glitter, sparkles, buttons, and so much more for her. Just looking at the pictures brought back so many memories for her. Memories of Gareth’s smile. Memories of Cal and Owen doing handstand competitions to see who would last the longest. Memories of Tara and Shannon’s laughs which were identical. Memories of Cal, Ryan, Owen, and Gareth having Super Smash Brothers competitions. Memories of the O’Reillys and Napiers going to Toronto to watch Ryan play in the GTHL for the Jr. Canadiens AAA. Memories of secret lingering stares between her and Ryan as they got older.

There was a photo album that she kept in her bedroom closet, more or less under a lock and key. Photos she went to develop herself, ever since she turned sixteen. Photos of just her and Ryan. At first, she’d buy disposable cameras from Shoppers. But then, Blackberries and iPhones had come out too, and she was lucky enough to have inherited Owen’s old iPhones until she could afford her own. Anytime she and Ryan were alone together, she took pictures. Pictures of them cuddling or posing together. Pictures of Ryan playing the guitar for her. Pictures of Ryan making a stupid face. Pictures of them kissing. Picture of them holding each other’s hand. Ryan would take pictures of her at sunset with the beaches of Lake Huron in the background. He’d take pictures of her wherever he brought her for sightseeing in Colorado, Buffalo, or St. Louis. He’d take pictures of her at his houses or in hotel rooms wearing his shirts and just panties. Sometimes she’d send him similar pictures taken by herself. He was always appreciative.

Whitney checked the time, and when she saw it, she knew Ryan was going to wake up soon, have a shower, and that they’d have to get ready to head to the game. She quietly put the photo album away, looking at Ryan sleeping peacefully in her bed. She walked over and climbed into bed slowly and carefully, making sure not to wake him as she did. For a while, she sat beside him, just admiring his features. He was so handsome. He hadn’t always been – he definitely had to grow into his looks. She often tried to picture in her mind what their kids would look like, if she were ever to be so lucky. Would they get Ryan’s nose? Her eyes? Did Ryan think about things like this too?

Why are we keeping this a secret?

Why won’t you be with me, Snook?

What’s wrong with me that you won’t be with me?

What did I do wrong?

Whitney regained her composure. She pushed the thoughts down.

Instead, she began to think of things that she loved about him, that she’d always loved about him…which was everything. His kindness. His protective nature. His humour. His generosity and capacity to give. His mental and physical strength. His passion. His beard. His nose. His hands. His body. His thighs.

She moved her body closer to his and began to place the lightest of kisses on his face. He didn’t move at first, but the kiss on the tip of his nose and on either side of his lips made his eyes flutter open slowly. He stayed silent, coming to consciousness, realizing that she was placing kisses along his jawline. “Whit?”

“Hi Snook.”

He smiled, still feeling her kisses. “I could get used to waking up like this.”

Whitney smiled too. “I’d love for that to happen.”

“I dreamt about you,” he told her, feeling her kisses along his neck.

“Tell me,” she said, kissing lower.

“Remember that night in Buffalo?”

He didn’t even have to specify which one he was talking about despite the numerous times she made the trip there. She knew exactly which night he was referring to. “How could I forget?”

“It was something like that,” he mumbled, a smile building on his face.

“Remember that time in the hot tub at your place in Denver?” Whitney asked between kisses.

Ryan hummed before giggling slightly. “How could I forget about that?” he asked. He still remembered how good she looked in the bikini she wore, which barely covered anything anyway and didn’t even last long on her, either. He wondered briefly if she still had it. She probably did. “You’re so sexy, Whit. Always.”

“Oh yeah? Even now?” she asked. She draped herself over his thighs, her hair falling over the top of her hoodie. “So you’d oppose if I take this off? Cause it’s sooo sexy?”

“You’re the worst,” he joked. He felt her hand cup his growing erection through his track pants. “C’mon, take it off, baby.”

Whitney obliged, sitting up momentarily to do just that before draping herself over his thighs again. She wasn’t wearing anything special underneath, but she knew Ryan would still appreciate the view. “Lift your hips up, baby,” she whispered, and he did so quickly. She pushed his pants and underwear down, freeing his cock.

“See what you do to me?” he asked as she stroked his cock in her hands.

“You make me feel the same way, you know. Always,” she whispered. “Sometimes all I have to do is look at you and all I can think about is what you do to me.”

Whitney kissed the tip of his cock, sucking it into her mouth soon after, causing Ryan to curse under his breath. She maintained eye contact with him as she bobbed her head up and down slowly, taking her time. She wanted to take it nice and slow, and she knew Ryan would like that, too.

“You’re so beautiful, Whit,” Ryan cooed, pushing some of her hair out of her face so he could get a clearer look.

“So beautiful with your cock in my mouth?”

“So beautiful always,” he clarified. “But yeah, with my cock in your mouth too.” Whitney gave him a cheeky look. She swirled her tongue around a few times, taking him deeper, but still taking her time. Her free hand wandered up and down where his thigh had been exposed, moving up to his abs eventually, nails grazing along his skin. Seeing his cock go deeper down her throat was getting him hot. “Let me take off your bra.”

Whitney indulged him, releasing his cock with a slight pop before moving up so he could reach around her and unclasp her bra. She pulled it off, tossing it on the other side of the bed. “C’mere, Whit,” Ryan huffed, pulling her forward so that her boobs were right in his face.

Before she could protest, he buried his face between them, kissing and licking the skin there before taking one of her nipples into his mouth and sucking gently, causing her to gasp. While she loved how it felt, her mind was preoccupied with what she wanted to do to him – and now that he’d taken off her bra, she knew exactly what that was. “This is supposed to be about you,” she said, running her fingers through his hair before tugging him away.

“It’s never just about me, baby. It’s always about you,” he hummed.

“Let me make you feel good, Ry. C’mon baby,” she cooed, moving back down and draping herself over his thighs again, taking his cock back in her hands and mouth. She went deeper than she had before. “I’m yours, remember?”

He nodded. “You’re mine, sweetness.”

“So show me I’m yours,” she said before taking his cock down her throat again.

Ryan knew what she meant by that. And as she went deeper, and deeper, and deeper, and he began to feel his cock hit the back of her throat, he knew he was getting closer, and closer, and closer. He gathered her hair in his hands again and helped her along, his hips buckling soon after. “Whit, I’m—”

“Let go of my hair,” she commanded immediately. Ryan did as he was told and she started stroking him, quickly. “Show me I’m yours, baby. Come for me.”

“Whit—”

“C’mon, Ry. I wanna see your cum on my chest.”

Ryan groaned and called out her name as he saw his cum shoot right onto Whitney’s chest, right along the tops of her breasts and in between them, her hand continuing to stroke him for every last drop. He closed his eyes momentarily, almost unable to process what Whitney just did. He couldn’t remember the last time she didn’t swallow – come to think of it, he didn’t think she ever hadn’t – but to think that she wanted it this way, that she wanted it on her, almost as if to mark her…God, he was gonna self-combust. He watched as she kissed the tip of his cock one last time before posing as she was draped over his thighs, his cum on her chest in full view. “Like what you see, baby?” she asked, making her voice sound innocent. Ryan couldn’t respond – he was speechless. She giggled at his lack of response. “Use your words, Ry. Did you like that?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Whit,” he was breathless.

“Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain,” she warned cheekily. She made a point to glance over to the clock and check the time. “You should really get into the shower or else you’re gonna be late.”

“You better get in with me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know if I—”

“—No no,” Ryan interrupted, grabbing at her wrist. “That wasn’t a request. It’s a demand.”

***

Whitney felt like she still had a natural blush on her cheeks from what she and Ryan got up to in the shower. She wondered if anybody else in the friends and family room saw it. With it being March 17th, St. Patrick’s Day, the Leafs were wearing their special St. Pat’s jerseys, which she got a kick out of, but it gave a bigger contrast to the red in her cheeks. Even though Ryan wasn’t playing, he had a few jerseys made for him, and he gave one to her to keep. The other girls were wearing their green jerseys in the family room, excited about the game against Carolina. Aberdeen told her a story about how, when she worked for Brendan, these jerseys were the bane of her existence. Whitney didn’t even know Aberdeen had been Brendan’s executive assistant; she’d always just assumed Aberdeen wrote. Aberdeen explained it was where she met William. It all made sense.

The boys were heading straight to Ottawa to start another nine-day road trip, which would see them play the Senators, Islanders, Panthers, Hurricanes, and Predators. Ryan wouldn’t be home again until next Sunday, late at night, so it was going to be a lonely nine days.

Bee had immediately taken attention to her when she got there. They ordered burgers and fries, sitting next to each other as the boys skated on the ice for the pre-game warm up. “I feel like between the parties and people around us during the games, we haven’t gotten to talking to get to know each other one on one,” Bee grimaced before she took a bite out of her burger.

“You’re right,” Whitney said. “It’s just been such a whirlwind being here, too. What do you do when I don’t see you at hockey games?”

“I work in finance at Scotiabank,” Bee said. “I help people manage their money and investments and make sure they make money.”

“That actually sounds quite productive.”

“It’s not as glamourous as it sounds. I love my job and the people I work with, but sometimes, I realize that I’m surrounded by people who are obsessed with money all day. It’s good in the sense that I can leave everything at work. When I’m home, I’m home, you know? I’m not thinking about how the stock market is doing. Plus, it’s what I went to school for, and it’s what I’m good at. What about you?”

“Oh, nothing special or important at all. I work a desk job at a PR agency, but it’s nothing fancy,” Whitney said. “It basically pays my bills, but if something better came along, I’d take it.”

“Did you go to school for PR?”

“I went to Ryerson for communications, so sort of,” she explained. You know…” she began, hesitating slightly. She only met Bee a few times, but she didn’t sniff out an ounce of judgemental attitude on her at all. “You know when you just do something to say you have a degree, but it’s not really what you want to do? You just kind of do it so you can live and get to do the things you enjoy?”

“Of course,” Bee nodded. “So what is it you enjoy?”

“The stuff that makes life great. This,” she nodded her head towards the ice. “Finding interesting recipes online and trying them out. Reading good books. Travelling. Being with family.”

“I hear ya. Focusing your attention on what really counts. What really matters.”

“Exactly. And…I mean, at the end of the day, I want nothing more than to become a mom,” Whitney revealed. “I know that’s very—”

“—You don’t need to defend or apologize for your desire to become a mother more than anything. No woman should have to apologize for that. That’s the beauty of feminism,” Bee said quickly. Whitney nodded, because she understood. She was a staunch feminist too. “And I totally get you. I want to become a mom too, but I just wanted to build my career first.”

“I’ve just always pictured myself as a mom first. I’ve always wanted a big family. Kids, dogs, cats, house in the city – you name it. Shuffling them around to hockey or dance or tennis – that’s how I want to be in the future. That’s what I want out of life.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. That actually sounds quite lovely,” Bee smiled genuinely.

“Just waiting for my Prince Charming, I guess,” Whitney blurted out before her mind could realize what she was saying.

“Haven’t found him yet, hmm?” Bee asked.

Whitney thought of Ryan. “Not yet, unfortunately.”

He wants to keep it a secret.

There’s something holding him back.

There’s something wrong with me. There has to be.

I must have done something wrong.

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kahlanmars · 1 year

Text

BAD FEELING part.30

HEY. This chapter, then the final one and maybe an epilogue and WE END IIIIT.

MASTERLIST, BAD FEELING ON AO3

taglist: @crimsonincursive

sorry but the gif is just perfect

30. Forgiveness

When you wake up, you are in your room in the District. Not Thirteen, Twelve. The room is slightly different from what you have left for the Hunger Games. The walls are wooden walls, the room is still very small, but you have a bed and a little closet, for yours and your mother’s clothes. When you open the closet there are different clothes, though.

Your dress for reaping day, you forgot about it. A simple light green dress your mother sewed to you and you embroidered white lilies on the sleeves. You outgrew it.

A white dress for school, a black dress for work, a pair of trousers and a blouse. These were all your clothes when you were younger, “There is no point in a lot of dresses when you are still growing up”, Holly used to say, but now you suspect she simply didn’t have any money for the fabric.

And yet, you weren’t poor in the district. Not more than others. You almost always had a meal on your plate in the afternoon and some bread for lunch, which was a luxury around there. Holly worked day and night, and you soon followed her path, cleaning houses - the major, some doctor, peacekeepers - and babysitting the kids when the mothers had to go to work. You remember their payment, not always in money: food, fabric, some trinket if they had it, or favours.

You watch yourself in the mirror. You are still you, but different. Your face is without any makeup, you notice at first. Weird thing to notice. Your eyes look a little bigger and your face is rounder. Your hair is in pigtails, you seem shorter and skinnier.

You don’t look older than twelve, maybe thirteen.

The light is illuminating the room and you observe what is on your bed. A basket, because you probably were about to go apple picking, and two blue ribbons.

You remember those ribbons. You sewed them, one for you and one for Dianna.

You watch over the window. The meadow is still intact, and so are the houses of your neighbours. It’s quiet, probably morning, the men are working in the mines and the children are at school or in the fields, and most women are in the kitchen or sewing.

Twelve is nice. You don’t remember it that way, because the memories are broken by the reaping, but people are nice. True.

«Hi.»

You’d recognise that voice anywhere. When you turn around you see Dianna Undersee standing at the door.

She is older than you are here, fourteen or fifteen. Her blonde hair is shiny, too shiny for the district, but her family is richer than yours. You forgot her green eyes. You used to dream about her green eyes, too in love to think straight. They used to be your favourite colour. She is in a light blue dress, one of the dresses she used for the reapings and the weddings, the fine dresses.

«Dianna.» You gasp. You don’t know much but you know she is dead, and yet she is in front of you. «I, I missed you.»

«I miss you too. But I see you sometimes.» She sits on the bed, like she used to do when she was in your house. «You are all grown up now.»

«I’m sorry, Dianna.» You start, and suddenly you feel the urge to confess everything to her. «I’m sorry about the district, about your brother, I’m sorry you got locked in your house after our kiss, I’m sorry about-»

«It’s not your fault.» She stops you. She is calm, seraphic, and for the first time you don’t think she is real. You are not thirteen and she is not fourteen.

She is twenty four forever.

«But it is my fault. I killed Clark.»

«In a game where you needed to survive, and my brother tried to murder you first.» She resonates.

«I ruined your life.» You tear up, and it’s the first time you need to confess it. You’ve always thought about that, the sweet girl who couldn’t leave her house anymore because you stained her.

«You were fourteen. You were a child.» She strokes your hair and you hug her tight, and you don’t care if she is alive or not, if she is real or you are just gone completely insane, you feel her. You can hug her.

«I miss you.» You confess. You never think of her, just like you never think of anything bad because you don’t want to trigger a panic attack. It is easier in Thirteen, a place where Dianna has never been. But now that she is here it’s impossible not to think about the times you were together. You spent all your childhood and adolescence with her, she is the first girl you’ve ever been in love with, the only girl.

«I miss you too.» She smiles at you, a real smile. Like the ones she used to have when you stole strawberries or wine from her father. «But it’s not the time for you, Daisy.»

«But I feel good here.» You argue. You don’t want to leave, you miss the district and your friend, and it’s peaceful here. You don’t see peace anywhere anymore.

But your mother, Haymitch, Effie… they are on the other side, and you miss them. They are not at peace. Maybe you could wait for them.

«You’ll come eventually. I will wait. I have my family.»

«Your family hurt you.» You open your eyes and you are trying to think about some way to save her, but she is still serene.

«Not here. Not my mother. I’m at peace, Daisy. You don’t have to be worried for me.»

«You deserved to become an adult. To live your life the way you wanted.»

She doesn’t try to stop your tears, but she caresses your back like she used to do after the reapings, when a friend of yours was called for the Games. Every year. It’s easy to forget how bad it was when you were a teenager.

«And you deserve to wake up.» She insists.

«No, Dianna, it’s all my fault.»

«Daisy.» She takes your hand, and she flashes a new, real smile, and now she is an adult, taller, her twenty four year old self.

«I’m sorry.» You whisper again.

«I forgive you.»

«Oh my God she is awake, she is awake!» You hear voices, but you can’t speak and the faces are confused in your head. You wish they were quieter.

«Rest, Sweetheart, rest.» You feel someone stroking your hair and kissing your head, but you only want to sleep.

You wake up in a kitchen, but it’s not yours. It’s a victor’s home, Haymitch’s, back in District Twelve. The sun is illuminating the room and you can see it’s definitely a different kitchen. His kitchen back at home is full of liquor and nothing else, but now it’s full of food. Weird in Twelve.

You don’t see dirt or rubbish, it’s all clean and fine to look at.

Then you look at your hands and you gasp, because they are not smooth like silk, with long nails and the bracelet on the wrist, they are wrinkled and rugged and old, and so are your arms.

And there is a ring on your finger.

«Sweetheart.»

Strong arms circle your waist and you feel the familiar scent of wood and liquor. You close your eyes for a moment, and a kiss is placed on your neck.

«Haymitch?»

«No, your other husband.» He jokes, but then he kisses your hand.

«Are we married?»

He turns you around and you can see his face. He is old. Not older than you, like before, because forty one is not old and he is still handsome. Now he is very, very old, like eighty. He has lines on his face and around the eyes, and his eyes are still so blue. It’s slightly odd how he is still attractive. Maybe you have a problem. Or maybe you are simply too in love with him.

«What did you think, that I would have let you go? Nah. I put a ring on that finger the minute you let me.»

«Yeah, I imagine the resistance…» Since you are not able to deny him a kiss when you are mad as hell at him, you think the minute he asked you jumped and said yes. «And we are still in love.»

«Like stupid teenagers. Even if we have grandchildren.»

Because you are old too. You can see white hair wrapped in a braid, and you don’t need a mirror to feel laboured and tired.

But it feels good. It feels good to have a family, and children and grandchildren, and to have a family with Haymitch of all people, the man you love more than anything in the world, it feels right. After the Games and the war and the lover and the ex, you did it.

You won.

«I want that.» You whisper.

«Then wake up.» He strokes your hair, like he used to do.

«I can’t. I’m too tired.» All you can do now is stay in the dreams. Waking up feels like moving a mountain.

«Then you can stay here for a while, but after that you have to promise me you’ll wake up. Okay?»

He takes you by the fireplace, and he puts a blanket on your legs.

«Do you promise?» He repeats.

«I promise.»

It goes like this a few times - you wake up but you can’t do anything and everything is confused - but finally you manage to speak.

«Prim?» You ask, because she was in your dreams at some point between a wake up and another and you don’t know what it means.

Dianna. Dianna was in your dreams too. She was in a long dream, and she… she forgave you.

«She is okay. Well, no, she is not. She is in a wheelchair, but she is okay. Given the circumstances. » That is reassuring. Then you focus on the voice that answered you, it’s Perla.

«Hey.» You welcome her, trying to smile. It’s hard to smile.

«Hey» She shoots back, and you can see she has tears in her beautiful blue eyes. She looks stunning as always, but a little tired. She has dark circles around her eyes and even bags. She is in a simple dress and her face is bare, without makeup. No jumpsuit, though. So you are not in Thirteen or the rules have changed.

«Why are you crying?» You ask.

«Because of you, you stupid idiot. You have been here for three weeks.»

«Three weeks?» That’s almost a month. You’ve lost a month of your life you have lost in a coma. You are so tired it doesn’t feel like you’ve slept at all.

«You’ve been in a coma for a few days and then you were sleeping for most of the time. You woke up once or twice.»

So old Haymitch, Dianna, they were all dreams. But they looked so real. You hugged them, you talked to them, especially Dianna.

«That is crazy. I don’t remember anything about waking up.»

«Here, have some water.» She probably guessed it by the state of your raspy voice. You can’t get up, so you drink it very slowly.

«What happened?» You want to know then. You want to know if you are under arrest and if you are still underground.

«Katniss shot Coin, Thirteen wanted to kill her but your Haymitch and Plutarch managed to get her an exile in Twelve.» Exile in Twelve doesn’t seem like the worst. Twelve is her home, and you don’t think she would have wanted to stay anywhere else anyway.

«With her mom and Prim?»

«Yeah, that’s the thing… her mom decided that Prim needed more cures and she flew to District Three.»

You open your mouth in shock. She did everything to save Primrose, from the very start when she volunteered, and now her mother decides that she doesn’t want them together anymore. It feels like another punishment. «She needs her sister.»

«Agreed. But since they are not eighteen they can’t decide for themselves. Haymitch is now Katniss’ tutor. He has been here all the time, by the way. They sent him home because he was driving everyone crazy, but he should be here any minute now.» You smile at the confession. «Me, Lora and Effie are here for anything you want, ok? This is my turn, but they’ll come too.»

«Finnick?» You want to know. You want to see him.

«Finnick and Annie flew to District Four the moment you were out of the coma, to stay with Mags. But they still call everyday.»

«Am I… Am I safe?»

«They say you will be weak for a long time. No stress, no heavy work, and you will need to sleep a lot. And you can’t eat a lot of things, but the doctors will tell you all the things you’ll need when you will be ready, Holly knows everything. Oh and, I know you won’t like it, the scar is… not pretty.»

«Oh.» You sigh. Stupid instinct to save the man you love. «But I meant with Coin and Thirteen.»

«We will have elections. Paylor will win, probably for the best. She is all right.» You really want to chat with Perla, but your eyes are starting to become numb.

«And I have to tell you something, Haymitch and Holly have been arguing about telling you for days and by the way, I now hate them both. They argue about everything.» It’s funny to think about them, but now you are worried.

«What do you need to tell me?»

She closes her eyes for a moment, surely she is not supposed to tell you. But you are a team. «You were practically dead. They used mutt technology on you.»

Oh. Well, it’s not that bad. At least they used mutts to save you and not to kill you. You prefer not to think about how they used them or which one. You really hope they didn’t use the scary lizards.

«Well, I’m alive. And I don’t want to know which animal they used.»

«Yeah.» She kisses your hair. «Then they wanted to change your brain with a chicken one, but they opened the head and said “Oh, we must have already done that!”» She looks so proud of herself. She just insulted you and she looks adorable.

«For how long…?»

«Since I knew about mutt technology.» She burst into laughter but soon they change into tears. She seems so afraid, so scared it almost scares you. And you want to console her and hug her, but you can’t right now, you don’t have enough strength to lift your arms.

«Hey, no, I’m here! I’m here, you can make fun of me!» You try to fight the tiredness.

«I know, we just thought… we weren’t with you.» She sniffs, you never saw Perla like this. You supposed she couldn’t crumble in front of Lora, because she needs to protect her, she needs to be the tough one. As if Lora needs a protector, Lora is more determined and strong than the two of you together.

«It all happened offhand, you couldn’t have done anything. You stayed here with me.» She nods, a little reassured, and so you go on. «Now I should sleep a little.»

«Yes, of course. I’ll call Lora.»

After Perla there is Holly, who practically only cries - and you with her, and Lora, who tries to sneak inside some strawberries but she’s caught by a nurse. Effie and Portia are next in line, but before them there is your favourite non boyfriend.

Next day, you pretend to sleep because Haymitch is looking at you and you just love when he stares at you. But, right now, it’s not a great sight. You don’t have any makeup on, your face is jaded and strained by the fatigue, your hair is a mess and your lips are dried.

«Tell me the truth. Am I ugly?» You whisper after a while.

«You are looking good enough to eat.» He states, and it may seem shallow or inappropriate, but he knows you are worried about your appearance now that everyone visits you.

«Eat me then.» You reply with a grin and he leans down to kiss you properly. Your lips are dry and your face is scary, so you don’t think it’s that great for him, but you are sure your heart skipped a beat at the kiss. «Hi. I love you.»

«I love you too, but if you scare me like that again I don’t think I could survive.» He kisses you again and again. «They said you were going to die.»

«I’m here now, am I not?» You reassure him, «And soon I’ll be home. With you. And the devil’s birds.»

He laughs. «If you don’t want the geese… Everything you want you can have.»

«Oh no, I want them and I want to complain about them.» You open your eyes and you see him. The face of the concern. The man you love, with blonde hair and blue, blue eyes that turn grey when he is not happy.

«Complain all the time you want. As long as you don’t complain about me.»

«Never. I mean, all the time but not about serious things!» You clench your hands in his shirt, you are strong like that now. «Will you bring me home today?»

«No, you have to wait a few days here. They have to check on you.» You scoff. You’ve been here for a month, they did all the checks they needed. You want to go home, away from Thirteen - Paylor or not Paylor, you don’t trust people in Thirteen. And you want the sun and the meadow.

«I hate hospitals.» You roll your eyes.

«And I hate to see you in this bed.»

You want to keep chatting, but your eyes are closing. «Go home and rest while I’m sleeping, old man.»

«You have to stop calling me “Old man”, Sweetheart.» He grunts.

You laugh a little with your eyes already closed. «”Old man” is sexy.»

«You are sexy.» He deadpans. You nod. «I’ll be here when you wake up, okay?»

«Okay.» You whisper.

«And never, never ever scare me like that again.» He kisses your forehead. «I’ll never let you go.»

#bad feeling #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch x fem!reader #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch x reader #woody harrelson #haymitch imagine #the hunger games #haymitch abernathy #fanfiction #daisy pinecone #thg #thg fanfiction #thg katniss #mockingjay #catching fire #thg fandom #princess daisy #dianna undersee

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elizabethsaige · 3 years

Text

Seasons Change

Florence Pugh x Reader based on the song “Seasons” by 6lack ft. Khlalid

Word Count:

Warnings: a few curse words, pls lmk if I missed anything. just really angsty with hope at the end <3

A/N: I LOVE this song and I have had it on repeat for weeks now and just knew I had to write something for Flo and reader. I hope you like it <3 and listen to the song if you haven’t heard it before!!

also, just in case someone calls me out on it, the little monologue that Y/N has at the end is very close to a little part of the song at the end, I just added a few things to make it my own. I just wanted to include that part in the fic because its my favorite part of the song and I think it goes well with the plot of the fic. so in case someone catches that

Seasons - 6lack ft. Khalid

*gif not mine

“Its been a little cold, in out-outside // Switch of the wardrobe, gotta be dressed for a ride”

The winter months had long settled in, white dust covering the ground and trees. The cold weather never was your favorite, mainly because of the constant bad mood it put you in.

Coldness made you uncomfortable, especially when it was paired with wetness, and more often than not, the winter brought both.

Not to mention having to layer up just to stay above freezing was not something you looked forward to every year.

This day, your one goal was to switch over your fall wardrobe to the winter clothing you had put away in storage, a task you had put off for many weeks, refusing to accept that a t-shirt and shorts was no longer an acceptable outfit for the time of year.

A jingle of keys brought you out of your focus, signaling that Florence was walking through the door of your shared apartment. Bracing yourself for whatever mood she’d be coming home with, you went back to hanging up clothing, piece by piece.

Hearing the slamming of the bathroom door, you guessed the mood of the day was a bad one, which no longer phased you. More often than not, Florence came home either annoyed, angry, or exhausted, desperate for quiet to relieve her head from the constant ache she accumulated throughout the day.

It’s not that you weren’t excited to see her; you were. But not this Florence. Not the Florence that would go straight for the living room, not even bothering to come looking for you. Not the Florence that would barely even look at you when you walked toward the door, greeting her with a smile. Not the Florence that demanded silence from you, when all you wanted to do was help.

No, you wished for the Florence that ran through every room in the house, searching for your presence. The Florence that would smother you with kisses the minute she saw your face, clinging onto you after missing you all day. The Florence that was excited to listen to your day, studying your features as you told her a story about someone you bumped into at the grocery store or what your coffee tasted like that day.

This Florence was a stranger, someone you didn’t claim to know, or want to deal with. Bad moods are normal, this hostility was uncalled for.

“I've been goin' through, you been through it // I fall back to look at what we're doing // I can yell at you, but what's the use? // If you really love me, gotta prove it”

“I just don’t know what you want from me.”

Your head turned to look in Flo’s eyes, which were dark with anger and frustration.

Fights happen, little arguments here and there. But this one, this one was big and harsh. Both of you knew there was no going back to normal after this fight.

Florence came back home after 2 weeks away in Oxford with her family. A much needed break for the two of you, but this time was anything but relaxing and rejuvenating. While Florence was away, your life was flipped upside down in an instant. You lost your job, your mother and father told you that they were filing for a divorce, and your apartment manager was threatening to evict you because of your stack of late rent payment. You were barely keeping your head above water at this point, living off of the small supply of savings and half-assed support from friends and family.

Florence, on the other hand, was bombarded with questions and lectures from her parents about your relationship; “When are you two going to get married?” “Why don’t you bring Y/N to visit us anymore?” “Are you having relationship issues?”

To escape her nagging family, she rented a hotel in the city and barely spoke to anyone the whole trip- including you. On her last day, she was met with even more frustration and disappointment from her parents regarding her behavior toward you.

It wasn’t a secret to the family; you rant to Toby and Raffie about Florence any chance you get, explaining how you feel such a disconnect from her recently, and how badly you just want “the old Florence back”.

When Florence came back home, her mood didn’t improve. You weren’t even sure when she’d be home, as she didn’t ask you to pick her up from the airport like usual, or even bother to tell you when to expect her. Her arrival in your apartment didn’t fill you with excitement, but fear, as to what to expect the minute you saw her.

“It’s not like I haven’t been obvious,” you replied, crossing your arms across your chest and shifting in your seat. Florence frowned and shook her head in confusion.

“That’s exactly it, Y/N. You haven’t been obvious, at all. Every day, I come home and you’re just sitting there, giving me dirty looks and pissing me off. It’s annoying and draining to constantly try to figure out what you’re thinking,” Florence said, raising her voice. It’s not often that Florence yelled, but when she does, it scares you. Your once soft and gentle Florence was now cold and harsh, just like the weather outside.

A snide chuckle came from your mouth as you rolled your eyes. “Are you serious? I’m the one that pisses you off? You’re the one that comes home in a terrible mood every day! I never know if I’m going to get angry Florence or sad Florence or what. Now THAT'S exhausting. And every time I ask what’s wrong, you brush me off and ignore me. But yeah, let's talk about how terrible I’m being to you.”

Florence shook her head, not wanting to be in the conversation anymore. She was checked out and ready to ignore whatever you had to say next. She knew you were right, but her pride was too strong to admit it.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you saw Florence shut down and block everything out. You’d gotten used to seeing it. It made your blood boil. Angry thoughts filled your head as you ran your hands through your hair in frustration.

You turned to Florence and walked close to her sitting body, which was staring out the window.

“You know what I want? A new version of you, because whatever the fuck this one is, can go fuck itself,” you spat before you turned to leave, grabbed your keys and slammed the door as soon as you were in the hallway.

“Have you ever looked at someone and said, "I could spend my whole life witcha?” // You're lucky the greatest thing I can do is marry you // 'Cause if I could, I'd spill my blood // Down to give you my last breath // The old me is on his last stretch // I guess a new season's next”

At the beginning of the relationship, everything was going great, amazing even. You couldn’t get enough of Florence and she couldn’t get enough of you. If you could, you’d marry her the minute you decided to date her.

But you should have known that this would cause problems in the future. With the way things were going in the first few months of the relationship, it was bound to break.

You two were so infatuated with each other, constantly together and always craving the other’s presence. 24/7, you were glued to Flo’s side and she was glued to yours. Your relationship was built on lust rather than pure connection, but that never seemed like a huge deal to you or Flo.

To her, that’s what relationships are supposed to be like. It’s what she saw in every one of her relationships with her previous partners. Most of the men she’d been with only wanted her for her body and the attention she gave them, she had no idea that a relationship could be more.

And Florence, she loved the attention she received from men; it empowered her- fueled her. She knew that she was worth so much more than being “eye candy” for any man, but once she realized how easy it was for a man to fall in love with her, it became a game. She didn’t have to put in any effort because to a man, Florence is all they could ever want.

Now, to someone looking in, it would seem like these relationships were toxic and abusive. Some might say, “She deserves so much better, if only she realized that.”

But Florence did. She knew that these relationships would never really fulfill her needs and desires, and at the core of all of these relationships, was insecurity and unfulfilled emotional needs.

So when Florence met you, she went through the same things she went through with all those guys; the quick meet, hookups, immediate lust for each other, not being able to get enough, etc. But very quickly, she realized that you were nothing like the boys she dated. You were soft and kind, clinging on to her every word as she spoke. You’d make her heart race just by simply looking at her, something no man has ever done for her, ever. You brought her comfort and simplicity when you were together. You made her feel things she’d never felt before.

Florence knew that she was not good for you. She’d never been in a relationship that required her to put so much work and effort in just to keep the other person happy. But most of all, she wasn’t used to wanting to put that effort in to make you happy. You were different from those boys but in the best way possible. You were a breath of fresh air after feeling suffocated in those other relationships.

So for a while, Florence tried to put in the work to make this different from all the rest, and she did well. Until she didn’t.

Florence didn’t know how to communicate what she wanted or needed, as she’d never had to do that before. No one has ever cared what she wanted or what she needed. But you did. In fact, you cared so much that you were willing to do just about anything to make Flo happy and to see her smile. But Flo didn’t know how to talk to you about the stuff that mattered, so one day, things went sour. A simple miscommunication led to complications and things only kept going downhill from there.

The rain fell as you trudged through the streets, careful not to trip over your feet or any branches as you made your way home.

A walk was exactly what you needed to clear your head after the fight with Florence, but the weather had some different plans. Although that didn’t stop you, it made things slightly more uncomfortable.

Walking always helped to work through problems. There's something about the fresh air that provides so much clarity and insight. After storming out after the argument with Florence, you knew that you had to get away or else you’d blow up even more than you already had. When you get angry, you can get destructive and that was the last thing you meant to do.

You thought things out during the stroll through the park, thought about what you actually wanted to say to Florence. You didn’t want to fight, it broke your heart fighting with her. But as of late, that was the only mode of communication between you two. It sucked.

Finally reaching your apartment building, you were welcomed by the doorman who graciously opened the door for you as you ran in, shaking off some of the water from your jacket onto the rug. The elevator ride up to your apartment was short, but quickly, your nerves got to you. Your palms began to sweat and your heart was pounding fast.

Slowly, you made your way to your door and unlocked it, walking in and setting your keys on the designated hook before closing the door behind you.

To your surprise, Florence was curled up on the couch with a pillow in her lap, looking at something playing on the TV. Her eyes were red and puffy, signaling she’d been crying. The moment you walked in, her eyes darted to you and she sat up, letting the pillow fall out of her lap and onto the floor.

“Hi,” she said, reaching for the TV remote to turn off the TV.

“Hi.”

You took off your soaked jacket and placed it on a hook on your coat rack, letting the water drip onto the floor. You’d get that later.

“Are you okay?” Florence lifted off the couch and walked toward you, keeping her distance still in case you were angry.

You frowned and watched her as she stopped in the middle of the living room, picking at her fingers as she kept her glossy eyes on you.

“I’m fine, why?”

“I was worried about you. You left so suddenly and I haven’t heard from you in hours. I just, um, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Florence replied quietly.

Your shoulders lifted in a shrug as you walked toward the island, leaning against it. “Well, I’m fine Flo. Don’t worry about me.”

That was kind of harsh, you had to admit. Florence looked at her hands and took a deep breath. “Y/N, can we talk?”

You pursed your lips, bringing your arms up to your chest to cross them. “I mean, sure. But are we going to talk or yell or accuse each other of things? Or just, talk?”

Florence dropped her arms by her side, looking away from your eyes. You noticed that tears were starting to well up, making you instantly feel guilty. You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but you were still a little bit upset.

“No, just talk. Or at least, I want to talk. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” said Florence, after swallowing the huge lump in her throat. Her hands were shaking and she could feel herself wanting to shut down and hide. But this was important.

For a moment, you just looked at her. But then you agreed. The two of you walked to the couch and took a seat, far away from each other. Florence on one end, you on the other, but still facing each other. This calmed Flo’s nerves a little.

Trying to compose herself before she talked, she ran her hands through her hair and tried to stop her bouncing leg. Noticing this, you handed her the pillow she once had in her lap that was on the floor, hoping it helped her.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I need to say that because I’ve been a terrible girlfriend to you,” Florence started. Immediately, it caught your attention, making you ready to hear more.

“I’ve never been good at saying the things I really want to say or telling people what I need because I don’t want to rely on anyone too much. I guess I’m just scared. But with that comes a lot of confusion because I guess at first, I didn’t expect you to care about me as much as you did and I didn’t expect myself to be so okay with it.”

Florence looked away, wiping some of the stray tears that left her eyes, struggling to keep her mind from stopping her.

“I didn’t know if I could be what you wanted and needed me to be, I’ve never been in a healthy relationship. But I want one, with you. I just don’t know how to get there. And I felt ashamed to ask for help and to tell you the truth,” Florence explained. She was talking a mile a minute, shoving everything out. She was nervous she wouldn’t get a chance to before you stopped her.

It was now your turn to talk and after everything you thought about on your walk, you completely forgot everything you wanted to say. So, you improvised and hoped it would get the message across.

Florence was staring you down, waiting for you to say something to fill the silence. She was again fidgeting with her hands and bouncing her leg, which made you place your hand on her knee, soothing her to stop. She appreciated that, but wasn’t expecting it at this moment.

“Flo, I appreciate you telling me all of this. I’m sorry you felt this way, I just wish you would have told me sooner. It could have prevented many of our fights and hurt feelings toward each other,” you said. Florence nodded and blinked away her tears that were streaming down her face now.

You looked away from Florence and out the window at the falling rain, and you felt your face and body relax a little bit.

“You know, miscommunications lead to complications and here we are, basically strangers to one another, sleeping in the same bed. Because, you were never taught how to use your words like that,” you explained. “You didn’t know how to say…loving things, and caring things. You basically were just taught how to say what had to be said, to make your partners content.”

Florence nodded, putting her hand on yours that stayed on her knee, interlocking her finger with yours.

“So, I want the words that you don’t have and aren’t using, and I’m stuck trying to figure out what you feel. Just think about it Flo, what might this relationship be like if we both put our pride to the side and, I don’t know, let love lead the way.”

A small sigh came from Flo’s mouth as she looked at you as you glanced back over at her. You could tell she understood what you meant, she was prideful but she didn’t want to be anymore. She wanted you and nothing else. She wanted this relationship to last and she wanted to open herself up to you, as long as you were willing.

You rubbed your thumb along the side of her thumb as she hugged her pillow, nervous to say anything else. The tears were coming back in her eyes so she averted your eye contact.

A thought popped up in your head, one that would probably help Florence and you build up your relationship, as long as you were both trying and willing to put in the work. “I have an idea.”

Florence quickly met your gaze, eyes wide open. “What is it?”

You smiled at her eagerness. “Why don’t we start over? Just go back to the basics of us, get to know each other all over again, and really make things work. Because I love you Flo, I do. But I think we need to reconnect and I don’t think it’s going to happen in the state that we’re in now.”

Florence smiled and nodded, loving the idea. She was excited that you still loved her, she still loved you, and she was glad you wanted to give things another go.

“I think that’s a great idea. I love you too, Y/N. Thank you for giving me a second chance.”

#florence pugh #Florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x y/n #fanfic #fanfics #seasons #seasons by 6lack ft khalid #masterlist

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