#of a very concussed claude being asked the date

[iturbide]

tfw you look up a random piece of information and end up finding something to incorporate into your worldbuilding

[dweetwise]

day 11: crying

prompt from: whumptober pairing: felix x ace notes: all this angst is getting to me, i’m so glad tomorrow is a fluff day ;w; warnings: amnesia, implied suicide word count: 1960

If there was anything Ace had always been good at, it was dealing with all the various shit life threw his way. He'd smile and roll with the punches, not wasting time on pointless concepts like regret and what if:s.

The Entity's world had been no exception. Sure, it was objectively worse than just another poker losing streak or scam gone wrong, but since there wasn't anything he could do to change it, he just tried to make the most of it. And no, he didn’t particularly like getting chased or stabbed or brutally murdered, but in the end he was still alive and free to hang out with his newfound friends and make shitty jokes. It was the new normal, and like always, Ace adapted with surprising ease.

Until he didn't.

It had been like any typical not-day at the campfire, where a trial was taking place but Ace wasn't chosen for it. The only thing different from usual was that Ace was a little on edge, though from worry or anticipation, he wasn't sure.

Felix was the newest addition to their group, and despite only being there for what couldn't be more than a couple of months, he'd made a huge impact on Ace's life. Ace had never been any kind of clingy in his old life, but even he had to admit that he'd much rather have Felix by his side at the campfire than in a trial at the mercy of the Entity's Monster of the Day.

And maybe his heart broke a little when Adam, Cheryl and Quentin returned from the trial and Adam met his eyes and offered a pained “I'm sorry, we tried”. Ace gave a half-assed reassurance in return, and despite knowing that they always came back after a sacrifice and weren't any worse for wear, it wasn't a pleasant thing to go through.

But if he'd thought that information broke his heart, the next one shattered it into pieces.

Felix finally returned to the campfire, his look just as impeccable as ever, like he'd been preparing for an important business meeting instead of taking a chainsaw through the gut. Ace felt his fake smile give way to a genuine one, unexplainable relief flooding through him upon the confirmation that yes, even after a hundred sacrifices Felix was still alive. For some reason, Felix was frowning, so Ace made his way over to cheer him up, a witty comment already on the tip of his tongue—

“Wo zum Teufel bin ich?" Felix said, looking at him with a very confused expression that made him stop dead in his tracks.

It wasn't uncommon for Felix to revert back to his native tongue in certain situations, but it was usually only a word or two. And it wasn't like him to keep his distance from the others like this, not since befriending the group and especially not after they’d started dating.

“Come again?" Nea snorted from somewhere behind Ace, probably thinking it some kind of joke.

When Felix looked at her with clear wariness, Ace already knew what he was going to say, having seen that same exact look only months before.

“Where am I?” Felix asked, and then further twisted the knife in Ace's heart by looking back at him and adding “Who are you?”.

Ace didn't pay much attention after that. He sat by the fire while the others hovered around Felix in worry, staring at the ground and asking himself why.

Claudette came by to offer him some empty words of comfort and a gentle hand on his shoulder. He heard Bill raising his voice in the group and urging them to “calm the fuck down and let the guy breathe”. And eventually, Yui was there, kneeling before him and commanding Ace to look at her.

“He got hit with Leatherface's mallet really hard during the mori,” the biker told him, her stern expression being enough to convince Ace. “Adam and Claud said it's post-traumatic amnesia from the concussion. It's temporary.”

“Yeah. Okay,” Ace said, realizing how shaky his voice sounded, dragging a hand through his hair to try to quell his doubts.

Hours passed and Felix didn't get any better. Meg and Steve were by his side the entire time, reminiscing stories from the campfire and some of his best moments of outsmarting the killers to try to jog his memory, but nothing seemed to work.

Claudette suggested maybe Ace should talk to him, as he'd been the closest to him since he got here. So he swallowed his own grief and put on a shitty smile and shooed Meg and Steve away to sit down with Felix alone.

But when Felix started talking about how he had to get back because of his girlfriend and the baby he was so excited for, Ace had to nope the fuck out before he started bawling or cussing him out.

He avoided Felix for the entire day, playing some dumb card game with Ash he was pretty sure the other just made up, and despite his mind not being anywhere near the cards the bastard let him win. Nea was being even more obnoxious than usual, shit-talking the killers and trying to get Ace to join in, and it was really obvious that they were trying to keep him distracted, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

Then the next trial came and Dwight, Tapp, Kate and Zarina were off, and Ace was left to stare at the futile sight of Jane asking Felix about trials he had no recollection of.

“What if he never remembers?” Ace heard Cheryl whisper.

“It's temporary,” Yui immediately snapped.

“Maybe it takes another resurrection to fix,” Adam said, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

Ace felt empty. The worry and fear and absolute loneliness had created a hole in his chest he didn't know how to fix, and wouldn't until Felix was back to his old self, because he would be, because that's how it always worked—

And then Dwight stumbled into camp and looked around with pure terror in his eyes and asked if they knew a way back into the city and Ace's world stopped turning.

The hole in his chest was instantly filled with grief and anguish and he was helpless to stop the sob from wracking his entire body, burying his face into his shaking hands and mourning what he now knew he'd never get back.

There was a commotion again, and he wasn't the only one who was crying, the entire group shaken to the core at their leader losing his memory and now realizing it wasn't an accident.

There were arms around Ace’s shoulders and who he thought was Laurie whispering that she's “so, so sorry, but we’ll get through this”, and if he could do something other than cry he'd have told her that no, he doesn't think they will.

The Entity had a lot of creative ways to torture them, but none of them had been enough to break him until now.

It was hours or maybe even days before Ace came to and could try to think somewhat clearly. Nancy and Adam were standing in the middle of camp, evenly explaining that they needed to start documenting everything, that the Entity had changed its rules and a death now meant forgetting everything after coming to the realm.

Some of the others were sobbing and the rest looked grimly serious, the usual laughter and outrageous stories around the fire long forgotten. Yui was hugging Kate in a death grip and Nea and Meg held each other and carried a hurried conversation with worried expressions, the couples no doubt terrified of forgetting each other.

He looked over to Dwight, and saw Jake being much more calm and collected than Ace could ever be, patiently explaining everything to his boyfriend and gently holding his hand. Dwight already looked almost as smitten as before he lost his memory, and Ace couldn't help the sharp pang of jealousy at how easy it was for them.

“So you, uh… said you left your family? Can I ask why?” Dwight asked, just as eager as ever to get to know Jake, and blushing when Jake gave a lovestruck smile and shared his life story without complaint.

How Jake wasn't a broken shell of a man like him, he'd never know.

Ace considered telling Felix everything, but what would be the point? Even if he did somehow manage to worm his way into Felix's heart again, the memories were lost forever, not to mention he’d be back to square one after Felix got sacrificed the next time.

There was a map and a piece of charcoal shoved into his hands, and Ace looked up at Zarina's usually carefully schooled features twisted into uncertainty.

“We're writing letters to yourselves,” Zarina explained. “For when—if we die, we have some guidance and know about the important stuff.”

She left him to it and he idly wondered if it would have even made a difference for Felix.

Suddenly, a new determination hit him and he started jotting down what he knew he needed to hear. His codeword for safety, so he’d know it was real. How he got to the realm and how long he'd been there. The names of his friends and the insistence that he trusted them all with his life. The few killers who were somewhat reasonable. The names of the couples and some random gossip he could use to lighten the mood.

‘Felix’ he started a sentence automatically, but then paused. A dark thought was creeping up in the back of his mind, and he knew exactly what needed to happen next. He finished the sentence with ‘has a girlfriend and kid in the real world’, before folding the piece of paper and placing it in his jacket pocket and waiting for a trial to start.

It was two days before Ace got called into a trial, and while the others were panicking and hugging each other and trying not to cry, he felt calmer than he had since this whole thing started.

“Keep an eye on Ace, okay?” he even heard Kate murmur to Bill, and it was almost enough to make him change his mind.

But then the trial started and Ace ran right into the center of the map to get chased first by the Wraith.

He was on his second hook, struggling against the Entity’s claws, with only one generator left and only one other person having been hooked. His chances were looking good, a weak killer on a strong map, his teammates pumping out generator after generator. With a much worse threat than sacrifice and resurrection looming in the distance, their determination had improved tenfold.

The Wraith was nowhere to be seen when Bill made his way over to the hook.

“Hold on, bud,” Bill grunted, slowly vaulting the window in front of him as not to alert the killer of the rescue in advance.

The last generator popped and Ace smiled for the first time in days, a toothy grin that probably came off as maniacal, realizing he could finally fulfill his plan while knowing the others would make it out.

“Ace, what are you—” there was alarm on Bill's features and he picked up his pace to a sprint, but it was too late.

“Sorry, old friend,” Ace offered before he let go.

“ACE!”

Bill's panicked scream was the last thing he heard before the claw pierced straight through his gut, and he had a few seconds of time to feel a bad for putting Bill through that, before his consciousness faded to black.

At least he wouldn’t remember any of it.

[puckinghell]

Wanna Bet | Travis Konecny

Summary Request: Omg Lou can you write something with the ”am I just a bet to you” storyline?! Word count: 4.2k Note: You guys asked for something with TK so here we are!

----

It’s kinda funny, how just being in the wrong place at the wrong time, hearing the wrong thing, can cause your entire world to fall to pieces. 

You weren’t meant to walk past the locker rooms. Being in the analytics department, you don’t have to actually be in the arena much, and when you do, you’re in the stands, watching players on the ice to access if the data you have on them is correct. 

A guy’s plus minus really only makes sense when you’ve seen the way he carries the puck, seen the way his legs pump as he skates. 

No, you never have to be in the locker rooms for your job, but today you decided to take the long way from your office to the ice. Just so you could walk past him. Just so maybe, you could accidentally bump into him, sneak a kiss before the game, wish him good luck.

Now all you wish is to disappear. 

The voices are a little far away but not muffled, as the door is slightly opened. It’s Ghost’s voice, that you hear first.

“I can’t believe you’re actually dating her, TK. And all because of some stupid bet!” 

Dating her. You. Travis is dating you, so they must be talking about you. Laughter fills the hallways; laughing about you. 

“I never lose a bet.” The voice is familiar, too familiar. Just last night that voice was soft in your ear, whispering all kinds of things he clearly had not meant.

A bet. 

There’s a heavy feeling in your stomach, like a rock settled in your intestines. The thing is, well, you’d known it was too good to be true. Why would a guy like Travis Konecny be interested in you? 

You weren’t WAG material. Weren’t even puck bunny material, really. You work in the analytics department, for God’s sake; you’re as nerdy as they get, love math and numbers, you even wear glasses, just to completely fit the stereotype. 

And you’re not skinny. Never have been; no matter how many times you used to skip dessert, there has always been a little soft pudge on your stomach, your thighs have always rubbed together when you walk. You don’t do that anymore, now, skip dessert; you deserve some chocolate every now and then, and you deserve a guy who doesn’t care.

You hadn’t expected to find that guy in the Philadelphia Flyers locker room, but then Travis had shown up and you’d thought, stupidly, maybe...

The very first time you’d shown up at practice, when someone was showing you around after having just been hired, it had been Claude who first said hi. Captain’s duty, and all that. But it had been Travis that made you feel a little less nervous about all these big, bulky dudes, who seemed to slide on the dangerous knife shoes like they’d never walked before; he skated up to you, softly bumped into your shoulder and said: “Don’t let my numbers fool you. I’m an important locker room guy” before dumping his water bottle over Oskar Lindblom’s head.

Ever since then, he’d always been sure to make a little small talk when you were around. Sometimes, his comments had been borderline flirty: “Saw that goal? That was for you” and “Can you believe I missed that pass? Totally your fault for distracting me” but most of the time you talked about mundane things like the never ending snow and what restaurants were good for steak. 

You never expected anything to come of it, though. Perhaps Travis was just one of those kinda guys that couldn’t talk to anyone without flirting. Or maybe he was just taking pity on you. He couldn’t mean it; not when you were you, and he was him. You might as well be from a different planet. 

But then, one day, he’d skated over to the boards where you were standing, sent you a wide grin and asked; “Will you go to dinner with me? On a date?” 

You’d nearly dropped your clipboard and you’d definitely dropped your jaw, but then you’d stumbled a “yes” and stared after him as he skated away. For a solid hour, you figured it must’ve been a joke or maybe Travis had taken a puck to the head and was so concussed he mistook you for someone else, but then he’d texted you a time and date and suddenly it was all very real.

It was so easy, then, to fall in love with him. Between lame jokes and broad grins and the way his hand was always resting on your back, you couldn’t stop yourself from falling for him, even though you tried to convince yourself that was a bad idea. It was so easy to forget it was doomed to end badly when all Travis ever did was say the right thing.

It was a bit like walking on a bridge you know is gonna collapse, and now, it’s collapsed. 

I never lose a bet.

“I’m just a bet.” You don’t mean to say the words out loud but they fall from your lips before you can stop them, and apparently they’re louder than they sound to your own ears because suddenly the locker room goes very quiet.

You don’t get drunk a lot, but you know what it’s like to be very, very drunk; it’s like the world is a bit fuzzy, sounds are a bit muffled, and all you can focus on is the feeling of your heart beating, the way your tongue lays in your mouth, how heavy your feet feel against the earth. 

All you’ve had to drink today is coffee but you feel like that, now.

“Y/N?” The voice is familiar but it’s not Travis; you’re met with Carter, a worried look on his face as he sticks his head out the door. 

Beside Travis, Carter is the only guy on the team who really ever takes the time to talk to you. At first it was all just polite small talk, but then you found out you both liked the same TV shows and now you talk all the time. Carter is a complete sweetheart, would never hurt a fly, and that’s why it’s so hard for you to believe he knew this.

But you know, when you catch his eyes and there’s nothing but pity in them. He knew it was all a lie. 

Carter steps aside, then, and Travis comes flying out the door, his eyes wide and mouth slightly slack. 

“I’m just a bet.” You say it more forcefully because that’s the only way you can think of to make this make more sense. It doesn’t feel true, especially when Travis looks at you with clear panic written across his features.

If he didn’t care, why would he panic?

“Babe,” he starts, his voice a little scratchy, but he doesn’t say anything else and so you do the only thing you can think of doing. 

“Are we dating cause you want to win a bet?” 

Travis stares at you, swallows heavily. 

Please say no. Please don’t let these last three months of my life be a waste of time. Please don’t make a fool out of me. Please say no. 

“Yes, but...” 

That’s all you need to hear; you need to get out of here before the tears that are threatening to well up in your eyes find their way out, before you lose that last sliver of dignity you might still have left. 

“I don’t ever want to see you again,” you choke out, and then you’re pushing past Carter and out of the hallway, out of the arena, until the cold wind hits you in the face as you fumble with the lock of your car. 

You should’ve known better. Should’ve learned from the last time.

---

You were 14 years old, an awkward teenager with few friends and no sense of self-preservation. You were sitting in the canteen on your own, eating lunch, because your only friend at the time had called in sick that day. 

If she was there, you don’t think David would’ve approached you.

David was the cutest guy in school, and not just because he was the tallest. He had nice dark curls and sharp green eyes, and he was the captain of the football team. He always walked around with a bunch of guys following him around like lost puppies, and he was endlessly cool.

You, were not. You were part of the drama club, you excelled in math and the braces you had hadn’t managed to make your teeth look any smaller so far, and you were used to people snickering behind your back when you walked past. 

Of course you had a crush on David. Everyone had a crush on David. And the fact that he’d never actually made fun of you made that you allowed yourself that crush; it was just to look, just from afar. 

Until he came up to you, that day, his posse of friends in tow, and smiled.

“Hey, Y/N, you wanna maybe go watch a movie with me on Friday?” 

Everything inside you screamed ‘danger’, wanted to say no and run away. But something, just a little sliver of hope, stopped you from doing that. The part of you that watched too many romcoms and read too many Nicolas Sparks books wondered if maybe miracles still happened. That part of you said yes.

As soon as you said the word, David’s friends had started laughing.

“Dude, she actually believed you!” one of them laughed. “I guess I owe you 20 bucks, man.” 

“Thanks, Y/N,” David said, shrugging his shoulders. “Matt said you wouldn’t believe me if I asked, he thought you would know that guys like me don’t date girls like you. Guess he’s even dumber than he looks and you just made me 20 bucks!” 

He left and you ran off to cry in the bathroom, but you learned one thing that day.

Guys like that didn’t date girls like you. And that part of you that still believed in fairytales needed to be locked up in a box somewhere and never let out, because that part of you would kill you, if you let it.

---

You tried, to lock that part away, and you’d managed. Until Travis had looked at you with honest brown eyes and a little smile and you’d thrown away everything you had worked so hard for.

What good had that done. 

When you were 14 you locked yourself up in the bathroom until your mom came to pick you up from school. This time you lock yourself in your apartment and eat an entire box of cookies while you watch Property Brothers and cry yourself to sleep at night. The next day, you call in sick to work and watch Gilmore Girls and order Chinese.

It’s maybe not the healthiest way to deal with things but it’s a way, and it works. Well, not really; you still feel like shit, but it works enough that you find the strength to ignore your phone buzzing and eventually shut it off without looking at it.

You turn it back on in the evening and don’t respond to all the missed messages and calls - mostly from Travis, but a few from Carter too - and fall asleep listening to Adele. 

It’s not easy but you’ve gone through a lot in your life and you won’t let yourself be miserable over something like this for too long. If anything, this has just taught you that same lesson you learned when you were 14.

Guys like that, girls like you, etcetera etcetera. This time, you’re gonna remember. This time, you’re gonna know better. 

Every now and then you think of Travis, wonder what he got out of this bet and what exactly he bet on.

Did he bet on getting you to believe a guy like him could be interested in you, like David? Or was it more? How many dates was he obliged to go on to win the bet? Was the sex part of the bet or was that just because you were there and it was easy? Why had he been so nice, if it was part of the bet?

You try not to think about it. It gets easier when Travis stops texting and calling you. You haven’t read any of his texts, or listened to his voicemails. In fact, you barely touch your phone, nowadays. 

When you go to work, you avoid the guys on the team at all costs, and it’s easier than you thought it would be. You sit high in the stands and write in your notebook and try to not feel your heart sink in your chest when you see Konecny on your paper. 

It’s fine, you can manage. You’re an adult and you will move on with life and forget about these three months ever happening. You promise yourself you will and you seem to do okay.

Until one day you come home and you find Nolan Patrick sitting on the floor in front of your apartment door, two take away cups in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, crossing your arms. You know Nolan hasn’t technically done anything to you but he’s Travis’ best friend and therefor he is guilty by association. Also, he’s always been nice to you and that was clearly all fake, so fuck him for that, too. 

“Oh, hi!” Nolan scrambles up when he spots you, extends one cup towards you. “I brought coffee. Hazelnut latte, one sugar and some cinnamon.” 

You frown, and he seems to understand your question, cause he shrugs.

“Teeks remembered your coffee order.” 

You almost ask him why; why would Travis remember your coffee order if he clearly didn’t care about you at all, but you don’t ask him that because why would he tell you the truth? Instead you take the coffee, open your apartment door and step inside without saying anything.

You let the door fall behind you, but before it can click into the lock Nolan has put his foot in front of it, and then he slips into your apartment.

“Nice place,” he says, as if it’s not super weird that he’s here, and then he flops down onto the couch.

“Right, sit down, make yourself at home,” you snap sarcastically; you grab your mail and start sorting through it, more because you don’t know what else to do than because you actually wanna know what mail you have.

Why is Nolan here?

“You must wanna know why I’m here,” Nolan speaks, as if he can read your mind.

You don’t remind him that’s the first question you asked. 

“I’m here,” Nolan continues, seemingly unbothered by your cold shoulder, “because you deserve to know the truth, and you won’t answer the phone so Teeks can tell you himself. Which I don’t blame you for, cause, you know, if he did what you think he did I would’ve kicked his ass myself.”

What you think he did?

“But,” Nolan crosses his arms now, seems genuinely offended, “you’re mad at Hartsy, really? You can’t be mad at Hartsy. That’s like being mad at a puppy. Or a bunny. Or anything else that’s super cute and impossible to be mad at.” 

“He knew and he didn’t tell me.” You didn’t mean to break your silence but you’ve got a soft spot for Carter and, to be honest, it’s almost been harder to ignore him than it has been to ignore Travis.

At least with Travis, you know what happened. He thought you were pathetic and it would be funny to turn you into a joke.

With Carter, it’s not so clear. Did he actually like you? Did he think Travis’ bet was funny? Or did he secretly disapprove but just not find it important enough to stand up for you? Or, maybe, did he try to stand up for you, but Travis didn’t listen?

You know you shouldn’t allow yourself to hope for that last option but you can’t help it.

Nolan rolls his eyes. “Hartsy didn’t know shit, all he knows is that Teeks is stupidly in love with you and that you’re good for him. He said that once, you know. That Teeks should never let you go because you’re good for him.” Nolan looks a bit sad as he said it, his face pulled into a pained expression.

It might be because of the way your face drops at his words.

Teeks is stupidly in love with you.

“He’s not,” you manage to bring out. “In... into me. It was all just a joke.” 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Nolan shakes his head, then takes a sip of his coffee. “Y/N, can I be honest? I don’t know you very well. I think you’re a great girl, but I don’t know you enough to care about your feelings.” 

Well, ouch. The truth hurts.

“I have no reason to be here and lie to you.” 

You have to admit he has a point there. If Travis genuinely doesn’t care, why would Nolan be here? It’s not like you’ve ever even held a proper conversation with Nolan. He’s always just been Travis’ roommate, Travis’ best friend, Travis’ teammate.

“So why are you here?” you dare ask him, and he smiles, a little smugly.

“Cause I have a story about a bet, and I think you’d like to hear it.” 

---

It’s weird, to be back at Travis’ apartment. Nolan’s footsteps are heavy in the empty hallway; he’s walking a good meter in front of you and you don’t try to catch up to him because with every step you take it’s like you sink deeper into the floor.

“Come on,” Nolan says, impatiently. He takes his keys out of his pocket and opens the door to their apartment.

Your heart is beating so fast you can feel it all the way in your throat.

“Ooooh Teeks!” he calls out, annoyingly chipper. “TK! I have a surprise for you!” 

“Is it Thai? If it’s not Thai I don’t want it.” 

Travis sounds tired but he sounds so familiar, so like Travis, and it washes over you like a comfort blanket, fills you with warmth from the inside out. 

“You’re really gonna regret saying that,” Nolan answers, and then he suddenly steps behind you and pushes you into the living room.

The second Travis’ eyes meet yours, all the blood drains from his face and his eyes widen almost comically. Within a second he’s standing up, the xBox controller falling onto the floor; his hands are in the air like he’s going to reach out for you, but then they drop to his sides and his jaw clenches.

“Y/N,” he says softly. “Are you here to get your stuff?” 

Nolan has made himself scarce very discreetly and now that it’s just you and Travis, you suddenly don’t remember how to talk. 

It’s silent, for a solid five seconds - but it feels like 50 years - before your brain starts working again. It’s Nolan’s voice, that you hear in the back of your head, and then your own, as if one voice is fighting with the other. 

Teeks is stupidly in love with you. 

I’m just a bet.

Stupidly in love with you.

Just a bet. 

“What was the bet?” you burst out. It might not be the right way, might be too sudden or too harsh, and there’s not really a reason for you to ask; Nolan has already told you.

But you wanna hear Travis say it. You need to hear Travis say it. 

Travis’ face crumples, his eyebrows knot together and his eyes drop to the floor. It looks as if it pains him to speak, but he speaks.

“It was so dumb, Y/N. You have to believe me, I never meant... I didn’t want this to happen. I’m sorry.” 

You swallow; there’s a lump in your throat that seems to be stuck there, that’s in the way of your vocal chords, but you just manage to repeat the words.

“What was the bet you made, Travis?” 

Travis inhales sharply, and then looks up. His eyes are staring intently into yours when he answers. 

“Ghosty bet me I wouldn’t dare to ask you out.” 

“Why?” you ask. “Why would he think that?” 

There’s a lot of answers you’re expecting, all of which allude to the same thing; you’re not good enough for him. 

You’re not pretty enough. Not fun enough. Not thin enough. Not charming enough. 

“Because you’re way out of my league and I would’ve looked stupid if I asked and you said no.” 

It’s like everything inside you deflates, at that point; your shoulders sag and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” says Travis. “Oh.” He sighs and then takes a step closer, a little one, very tentatively; as if he’s afraid you’re gonna turn around and run, if he moves too much. “I know it’s stupid, but I hate losing bets and the boys know that, so whenever they want me to do something I don’t wanna do, or in this case, am too afraid to do, they tell me that I can’t and I bet them that I can. They were all getting a bit sick of me pining after you so Ghosty thought, if he just said I couldn’t ask you out...” 

“Then you would bet that you could,” you finish his sentence.

Oh God. You’d gotten it so wrong.

“So,” you continue, softly, “they didn’t bet you to ask me out as a joke. Because they thought it would be funny if a guy like you asked out a girl like me.” 

The skin around Travis’ eyes crinkles as he frowns. “What does that even mean?” he asks. 

“Because you’re really hot, and really great, and I’m really nerdy, and not very pretty. And I’m not good enough for you.” 

Travis’ breath stutters as he hears you speak. “That’s.... insane,” he brings out, stammering. “Y/N, if anything, I’m not good enough for you. You’re so gorgeous, and so smart, and you look at numbers and see a Stanley Cup winning team and I struggle to hit a piece of rubber with a big stick. I couldn’t keep up with you even if I tried.” 

He takes a bigger step towards you, now, your words seemingly giving him a bit of courage. 

“I’m sorry for making you think all of this was based on a lie,” he mumbles, and he carefully takes your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours as his thumb traces lines across your knuckles. “But I promise you, it’s not like that. None of this was fake to me. I wanted to ask you out long before I got the guts to do it and I’ve been happy about taking that bet ever since.” He takes a deep breath. “I love you. And that has nothing to do with any dumb bet.” 

Your heart leaps; he’s never said that before, and neither have you. You’ve felt it, sure, but there was always something inside you wondering if it was too soon, if you were just asking for trouble by saying it. 

But there’s nothing but honest truth in Travis’ brown eyes, now, and suddenly you’re not afraid anymore. 

“I love you too,” you say, and the words aren’t out of your mouth yet or Travis’ lips are on yours.

His hands are firm on your waist as he tugs you closer, and it’s like you can’t feel anything but him, everywhere, and it’s like everything that happened before has been forgotten.

Until he pulls away, both of you gasping for air, and you remember something else.

“Oh my God, I have to call Carter back,” you mumble against Travis’ shirt; he’s pulled you flat against him and nestled his face in your shoulder, meaning you’re now being smothered by his chest.

There are worse ways to go.

Travis laughs lightly, his breath hot against your neck. 

“Really?” he says. “I kiss you for the first time in two weeks and you think of Hartsy?” 

“I’ve been ignoring him, and that’s not fair, cause he, oh...” you break off as Travis presses a kiss to the sensitive skin on your neck, “cause he’s a great friend and... Trav!” The last part comes out as more of a whine and Travis chuckles.

“Hartsy can wait another hour, babe.” He starts pressing kisses along your jaw and you groan, lightly shoving against his shoulder.

“Trav, I gotta call Carter and...” You bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning as his teeth scrape across your skin “and I don’t know what you think you’re doing but you’re not getting me naked within the first hour of getting back together!” 

“No?” Travis pulls away, one eyebrow raised, and there’s a smug look on his face. His hands slowly travel to your back, fingers sliding below your shirt, and despite your best efforts, you can’t stop yourself from shivering. 

“Hmm,” Travis hums, right before he kisses you again. 

“Wanna bet?”