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nachohypno · 3 years

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Nate and Dave - Ch. 15

Dave’s POV

I’m sure you already know how much a single person can change a whole lot of your way to see the world, or have your life take a 180° turn (Had to look this up, angles are weird.) just by standing in a corridor.

Now I was just happy to stare at my phone’s unlocked background. A pic I took of us while cuddling. I was kissing his cheek and staring at the camera, while he just laid below me, his face had a little smile and his eyes were closed.

He loved that pic. I loved it too, it was both cute and wholesome. Never been one to do those things, nor even Leslie managed to get me to change my Dallas’ Cowboys background, and we had a lot more pics together than Nate and I do.

It was a nice distraction. I would sometimes just unlock my phone to see that pic and feel a bit warm inside as I imagined spending more time with my soulmate. I loved him a lot, and I wouldn’t mind sticking around with him for a day, or two, or the rest of my life, just to make sure he has all he needs to be happy like I am when I’m near him.

We sat together at school, yeah. Nobody batted an eye. We hung out during our breaks, still no big catastrophe happened. After school, we usually have a date or spend some time together before heading to our respective houses (As much as I’d like, having daily sleepovers wouldn’t be wise).

According to… everyone in the world who knows that I’m hanging out with Nate (Which may be just 2 or 3 people that I’m aware of), the guy had a really positive impact on my behavior. He’s always encouraging me to help whenever I can and to be… nicer, in general.

I’ve already apologized to one of my favorite targets a few weeks ago, but decided to fully leave them alone. In my house, however, I’ve been trying to honor my soulmate’s wishes doing some house chores to help mom and pops around. I still don't think I'm ready to 'change my public image' that much. Kicking nerd's asses is fun... but mean and unnecessary.

Mowing the lawn, going grocery shopping, cleaning around whenever my parents seemed quite tired to do it, that kind of thing. My room wasn’t a messy place before, but now I could spend less time looking for my stuff!

And now… Nate was at his house. I left him there per his request, he told me we could hang out later today! But first, he had some homework to do.

I looked around and noticed the door was closed. I dropped my shirt and pants, felt the locket’s cold metal against my chest, and dropped on my bed.

I wasn’t intending to take a nap, just close my eyes and think of my soulmate was a nice enough plan for my evening.

As I closed my eyes, images of my first day with him invaded my happy place. Me getting his scent, slowly walking over to his locker, and noticing the guy I never paid attention to, the one that sat a few rows in front of me, and was usually in the middle of the way when I threw paper balls around.

Now that I thought of it, maybe I never noticed him because he always hid? He was hiding right now; it was obvious that he was using his locker as a cover. I stood there, though. Taking in the smell. Feeling myself realizing more and more of that nice thought I had never thought about after my pops told me about that weird phenomenon.

…I had found my soulmate. The love of my life… It wasn’t my girlfriend, but a guy from my class… I frowned both in the real world and in my fantasy.

In the fantasy world, I lifted and kissed him. He didn’t fight back, just returned the love I was giving him by returning my kiss. I didn’t care if anyone watched us. I loved this guy, and I still do now.

I love Nate Hall.

I rubbed my crotch in the real world, as I kept kissing him in my fantasy. That was more than enough. A single kiss, a single thought about my soulmate being happy and in love with me could make me so hard and horny…

“Dave?” A voice said. My soulmate’s? It sounded so different though… I kept kissing him. This was perfect. He was perfect. He was the love of my life, of course he was perfect! “Daaaaave?”

Was there someone invading my fantasy? Oh, wait…

I opened my eyes and saw a familiar face standing there, wide eyed. I had my hand on my hard crotch, rubbing it. This was definitely an uncomfortable position to be found at. I could normally hear when people are walking towards my room, but maybe I was so out of it this time that I didn’t hear him.

“Fuck, sorry— Didn’t wanna—” My cousin said. What the fuck was he doing here, anyway?! In my room! When the fuck did he arrive?!

“Shut the fuck up! And close the door!” I commanded, feeling anger building up on my chest, totally replacing the warm feeling from a few seconds ago.

Brad Walker. My cousin was my height, which was a bit funny given that he was a few years older than me. He was muscled too, but his shoulders seemed wider as his torso formed a sort of upside down triangle. He was a rugby player, maybe it had to do with that.

By looking at his face alone, he could pass as a brother because of the resemblance. He had the Walker’s smile, looking both chilled while also managing to look a bit menacing to keep everyone in their toes.

Doesn’t give him much use, given that he’s a Beta.

Brad closed the door behind him, and laid back on it. “Off to a rocky start, I guess. Let’s try that again… Hey, cuz!”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I could feel the anger diminishing. I thought of my soulmate, how would he react if he saw me like this. He would want me to be nice and polite to my cousin. I wanted that too, I wanted to be nice to him. I’m so hot-headed sometimes…

I smiled at Brad, and took a few steps forward to give him a bro hug. After that, I walked over to my bed and sat on the edge. “Hey man, wat’cha doin’ around here?”

“Uncle hasn’t told you? Pops and him thought about doing a little reunion, so we drove over and… here we are.” Brad left his hands in his pockets as he looked around. I noticed I was still almost naked, but didn’t give it much thought. I did put some shorts on, though. “Just the big guys, though. Mom was tired and decided to stay at home with the young ones, so it’s just pops, Logan and me today. The guys asked me to get you downstairs, so… shall we go?”

I pointed to my almost naked body. “Give me a few minutes, alright?”

-----

Dressed up in some shorts and a grey tank top, I walked downstairs with Brad following me closely.

Pops was there, with his brother and my other cousin. I walked over to Logan and gave him a brohug. I liked my cousins, they were like brothers.

“Hey man,” Logan greeted me after the hug. It was nice seeing him. Well, like, nice and not nice, because he was pretty annoying sometimes. So I hoped he didn’t get very annoying tonight. “Damn, you look buffed. Taking steroids already?”

I rolled my eyes. “Why do you ask? Need some to stop being so thin, cuz?”

“I swear I still don’t know how he's not broken after kicking that ball. Y’look like a stick, bruh” Brad backed me up. I liked that about Brad, he was pretty loyal.

Logan laughed. He’s not one of those chums who get mad at every tiny insult. He’s pretty easy going in that regard. Would need to learn from him, because I am one of those chums who get mad at every tiny insult. “Don’t pull my dick, assholes” He punched my shoulder, softly.

Even though Logan was a year older than me, he was an ass. And that’s coming from me.

Logan… He was alright, I guess. Not really very muscly like me or Brad, nor our parents for that matter. That’s because he liked soccer, ugh. Not even weightlifting, nah. Just soccer and cardio.

That got him looking well in a soccer uniform with long socks and knee pads, but… I really should reconsider his standing in my pack. Meh, might as well let him in just because he’s family, but I’ll most likely order him to start working out more to be a real wolf bro. (I’ll get into this later.)

“Uh… don’t wanna be rude or anythin’ but… how long are you guys staying? Thought about having a friend coming over and-”

“Ooooh, is it your girlfrieeend?” The soccer cuz said, moving his fingers towards my face. I slapped his hand off me, and he laughed. “Big meanie Daveee has a girlfrieeeend” He was like a little kid when it came to annoying others, and the worst part was that he nailed it.

“Oh, shut it, bro. You’re just jealous- Wait, that’s not what I was going to ask”

“Dad and uncle Adam thought about doing some beefs for tonight, soooo… family dinner, I guess? We don’t really hang out often, so I thought it would be nice. Besides, we all love beef” Brad answered, holding his arms behind his head and stretching for a bit.

“We’re about to leave, actually,” Uncle Thomas said, grabbing his car keys. “Gonna buy some meat and drinks for tonight. Y’guys wanna come? Hey cub, haven’t seen you in months...”

I greeted my uncle with a firm handshake, before he gave me a little punch on the abs. “Strong as a rock. Not bad, kiddo.” He ruffled my hair, before turning his attention back to my pops.

I was a bit too worried to think about hitting the store. Nate was supposed to come after he finished his homework, so we could spend the night together. I was supposed to pick him up. Fuck, what am I gonna do?

I shook my head and remained silent. Brad followed suit with a “Yeeaaah… No, been in that car for an hour and I’d really like to move my legs.”

“Pussies,” Logan said in a snarky tone. I raised my eyebrow, but decided to take care of him later. “I’ll go, may find some hot chicks in this friggin’ town…”

My uncle looked similar to my dad, just a few little differences. Dark blond hair, a bit longer. Their sizes were similar, but my dad was bigger. It was weird to think that my uncle was the one who activated the werewolf curse in a bar fight and not my dad.

If you kill someone, whether it was intentional or accidental, you can’t transform into neither your werewolf or full wolf forms without experiencing a lot of pain. Could be avoided by never turning into those forms but…

Transformation is mandatory during the full moon. This whole thing seemed really thought out to punish those who don’t follow the rules, right?

Brad grabbed my arm “Hey, since we’re staying behind apparently, wanna catch up?” He pointed back to the stairs, probably wanting to go to my room.

I nodded, nothing better to do. And it would give me some time to think about what excuse I could give Nate.

Again in my room, Brad closed the door behind me. “So… a friend? I mean, the locket already gave me an idea but I didn’t you were bringin’ her to your place already…”

“It’s nothing, really…” It was something, a lot. I loved wearing this locket, it reminded me of Nate. Thus meaning, it was pure bliss in a single necklace.

“So, what’s the locket for? Always thought you’d end up with that Leslie chick you talked so much about” Oh, I forgot. My cousins never met my ex.

I shook my head, but was kind of hesitant to talk about it. In the end, I eased myself to the idea as I thought more about Nate. “Got a soulmate now, cuz.” Was my answer. I was proud of myself! Not even a half of the average werewolf population gets to meet their soulmate once in their lives!

I was lucky, it was like, one in a whatever-number-of-people-there-are-in-Earth!

“Waitwaitwait, not gettin’ it. So, you and Leslie… or is it another girl?”

“It’s a guy, his name is Nate” I mumbled out quickly. I wasn’t embarrassed, but at the same time, I felt like a chunk of ice just fell through my stomach.

Silence.

“So… you’re gay now?” Brad said, giving me a thumbs up. “It’s alright, I don’t mind gay people”

I honestly couldn’t get how he got that assumption. “What? What makes you think that?”

“You’re with a guy, like dating and loving him and you even have a locket… I mean, that’s pretty gay. But it’s cool, it’s not that weird. Lots o’ people take some time to discover their sexuality and stuff— Uh… Cuz?”

I stared at him. Not staring, actually. I was glaring at him.

Brad gulped. “I fucked up, didn’t I?” While he did sound afraid, his face displayed a mix of nervousness and worry. I always laughed at him when he asked if he fucked up, like it was a regular thing for him to do but still needed other’s approval about it.

I just glared at him, making sure he knew I wasn’t happy. I walked forward and held my gaze into his, trying out my favorite part of being an alpha.

As I focused on him, his expression slowly started to relax, then vanish, as his pupils dilated.

“On your knees” I commanded, making sure he got it as an order, not a ‘humble request’.

His blank face didn’t move an inch, as he dropped to his knees and looked forward. His eyes, besides the pupils being dilated, looked glazed over as his irises changed from hazel to pure yellow. The beta color!

“Who’s your alpha?” I mocked him, as he blankly stared ahead.

“You are, sir. David Walker is my alpha” Brad droned. I ruffled his hair. He was a good beta.

“And who do you have to be respectful towards?”

“My alpha, sir. Being respectful towards their alphas is the sign of a good beta, sir” Brad answered, in a matter of fact voice.

…I should probably explain what the heck is going on.

I’m an alpha. I’ve mentioned quite a few times already, but I never mentioned anything about other ranks.

You have omegas, who are wolves without a pack. They’re usually weaker than alphas and betas. Then there are the betas, werewolves already in a pack.

Omegas can survive quite well on their own, it’s not a requirement to have a pack. But if you want to get stronger… Getting an alpha is the best you can do.

That’s one of the reasons Pops is so proud of me. He and mom conceived an alpha in their first try! Nate usually nerds out about me sounding like a “Jerry Stud” whatever the fuck that is.

So, since I’m an alpha, both my older cousins are ‘my pack’ to call it some way. And you just got to see one of my favorite alpha skills.

Much like a soulmate bond, being a beta for an alpha makes them completely loyal to the alpha, which means… I have some degree of control over them. Not as much control as my love has over me, but still… It’s fun!

“So, won’t you apologize for calling me a fag— Uh… gay?” I’m still getting used to not using that word. Everything for my Nate. Can’t be a bully anymore, right?

I didn’t have to ask twice. Brad seemed to struggle a bit against it, but after a few seconds he said “I apologize, sir. I didn’t intend disrespecting you like that…” It was a cold, empty apology. But it did the trick. I’m not a picky guy, he’s my cuz after all.

But that did make me wary. Should I tell Nate to not come after all, at least until these guys leave? Fuck, they were going to ruin my evening with my soulmate.

“Uh… what do you think about my soulmate being a guy?” I walked in front of him, back and forth. I was trying to think what would be the wisest decision here. A second opinion would be useful.

“I personally don’t care, sir. You can love whoever you want, especially if you met your second half.” My cousin answered.

“I mean, yeah. But what would Uncle Thomas and Logan say if they found out about it?” I should uh… ‘wake him up’ or whatever already. But I liked him this way. You can say I’m a dominant guy. Not saying I lust over my cuz, that would be incest, but ordering him around is fun.

“I don’t really know. He’s your soulmate, they shouldn’t say anything. Logan is a fellow beta though, it wouldn’t be wise to fear anything from him. He’s as loyal to you as I am, my alpha.” Not going to lie, I loved hearing that.

Being in control of the situation, having everyone in my surroundings looking forward to being with me, or do as I say out of fear/respect/whatever… That’s why I loved the not-studying-part of school!

As a little reward for his opinion, I did what Nate would have done to me if I did particularly good: Scratch the back of his ear. Brad’s head got some emotion again, as he got closer to my hand and started panting with his tongue out.

“There, there. Good beta cuz” I mumbled, as I machinated a plan in my head. I had an idea, but it would be a bit… not ideal. I stopped scratching the good spot, and his expression blanked out again. I crouched in front of him, and looked straight into his eyes. “I want you to listen very clearly to me, understood? Listen and do as your alpha says…”

If Brad wasn’t in ‘beta mode’ before, then he definitely was now. His irises were still a bright yellow, but his pupils were even smaller now. “I’d do anything for my alpha, sir” placing a hand on his chest. I knew what that symbolized, I used that expression with Nate before. It freaked him out a little.

“Y’know, my soulmate is kinda a big deal for me so… I want you to treat him like a king, alright? No mean or cocky comments, just be nice to him and I’ll be nice to you, got it?” I had to search for the words to say this, it wasn’t really a piece of cake as I expected. “Think of him as an extension of your alpha. Make him feel good and do what he says, and you’ll be good to go.”

He frowned a bit, but his face quickly eased up. “As you command, my alpha. Your soulmate’s wellbeing will be my top priority, sir.”

Yeah, that’s more like it. “Get up now.” I said and just… walked away from him. I wasn’t interested in bossing him around anymore, not for now at least. But actually…

“Lift your shirt.” One last command wouldn’t hurt, and he obeyed without a question, like a good beta. I walked towards him and gave him a little punch on his abs. Didn’t even flinch, he was keeping up with me! Of course, I wanted the best for my pack! “And… Beta out.”

My cousin snapped out of whatever that was, his yellow irises returning to a nice hazel, as his pupils got back to normal. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and smiled. “Huh, 5 minutes. Wonder what you did there” The guy said, smiling at me.

He couldn’t get mad at me. I was his alpha! I mean, he could… but there wasn’t much he could do about it!

“Meh, you don’t really care, do you?” I said, trying to sound uninterested.

Brad shook his head. “Nah, I really don’t. I really trust ya, cuz. Best alpha around!” Couldn’t tell if he was following the ‘you don’t really care’ thing, or if he was being honest, but I didn’t really care.

“That’s a good beta” I mumbled, going closer to him again to scratch the back of his ear. God bless Nate and discovering that hidden pleasure for me. I loved when he did that to me, as I mentioned, and I loved doing it to other wolves, too!

“What are you two ladies doin’ up here- What the hell are you two doing?” Logan entered the room. My other older cousin, although younger than Brad. Rather than being as muscular as we were, he was more chilled. Yeah, he was in good shape, but he didn’t look like a big gym bro like us.

This was probably due to him preferring Soccer rather than football or rugby. Each to their own, but soccer isn’t that fun to begin with? I tried to not give it much thought and respect his hobbies.

“Brad, close the door and put on some music.” I ordered him, walking over to Logan and wrapping an arm around his small soccer player’s shoulders. “You just made my whole evening way easier, lil’ cuz”

I wondered if Nate would like this. I’d have to send him a message telling him that I wouldn’t be able to pick him up… That felt bad, but at least these guys wouldn’t bother him tonight!

-------

Nate’s POV

Dave invited me to his house, but asked me to walk over. He told me we could have a family dinner, which was alright. I liked his family. Mr. Walker was funny and Ms. Walker was really nice to us. We just had one family dinner and Dave spent most of his time zoned out.

And also, there was a full moon, which I didn’t get to see.

Was I glad they considered me ‘family’? It pushed me out of my freaking mind when Dave sent me that text.

I was walking slowly. Not like a snail and doing baby steps, but I felt like I should slow down as much as I could and… be fashionably late? It was a good walk, from my house to his. But I didn’t mind.

The town was quiet, not much stuff happening as I walked out of my house, and on the way to Dave’s neighborhood.

I thought about buying some ice cream or some nice dessert to make a good impression this time, but hey, I don’t really think they’ll care about it that much. They highly prefer meat, as far as I know.

Stopping in the middle of the way, I grabbed my phone and checked my maps app. “Should have arrived 10 minutes ago… fuck, that shortcut would have been really useful…” I mumbled to myself, changing my route and getting back on the way.

I was nervous at fuck, that maybe explained my silliness. And I also never walked to this part of town. It wasn’t… bad, but it was a bit more private than the usual neighborhoods, which fits Dave’s family pretty well due to them being werewolves, and stuff like that.

I still had some time to cancel and be like “Oh, hey. My… hamster pet is sick and I want to look after him?” I kind of sucked at making up excuses, that's why I never wanted to be late on homework due to laziness.

It was late now, just another block and...

I reached Dave’s house. It was weird arriving here on my own. Guess I really got used to my soulmate acting as my personal driver.

The rooms inside were on, Dave’s car and his dad’s were outside the garage. The closer I got to the front door, the louder I would hear laughter coming from inside. Were they having visits? It didn’t sound like Dave’s laugh. His laugh was… deep and dumb-sounding.

I stopped now. What if they had visits? What if Dave didn’t tell them I was coming? I was shaking a bit, before taking a deep breath.

Taking my final steps to be in front of the main door, I knocked and waited for someone. Loud footsteps later, Adam Walker (Dave’s dad) opened the door.

“Hey bud. Didn’t know you were coming, but uh…” He motioned inside with his head. “Come in, the big guy is in his room with his cousins. We’re having a family dinner”

“Thanks, mr. Walker-” But he stopped me as I set a foot on the door. The older man leaned in and started whispering.

“Don’t be afraid. If you don’t want to be picked on tonight, try your best to not sweat as you did the last time. Dave will probably have you covered, though.” He patted my back, and moved aside to let me in. After that, he closed the door behind me. “Dinner will be ready in a bit so… feel free to go mingle with the guys upstairs.”

Uh… that wouldn’t be needed, apparently. Dave and a pair of guys were coming downstairs, and as soon as my puppy boy saw me, he rushed towards me to give me a big tight hug. “Missed you a lot, bruh! Didn’t know there was going to be more family tonight so… I’m really sorry for that. But I’m sure we’ll have a good time!”

The other two guys just stared at me, arms folded. One of them was big, and buffed. He had an absent smile, a bit creepy but also inviting. The other was smaller than him (And Dave, for that matter).

“Uh… since your uncle is here, these are…”

“Cousins, yuh” Dave finished the sentence. I made the connection on my own, but it was good to get some confirmation. “Big one’s Brad, small one’s Logan.”

“Hey, I’m not small!” Logan complained, trying to punch Dave’s arm. He didn't seem to do much damage though.

“Yeah, and I’m a bottom, heh” My werewolf jock replied, obviously mocking his cousin. I noticed Brad chuckling, and I couldn’t help but find that funny though. I always wondered if Dave would like to bottom at least once. I feel like he’d be alright if I asked him for it, due to me having full control and all that...

After the introduction was over, and both guys shook my hand, my focus shifted again to who I wanted to be with: Puppy boy was looking at me too.

“I can’t find the words to tell you how glad I am to see you here, though” Dave said, before pulling me in for a good make out session. In the middle of the living room. He was feeling happy or romantic, I assumed? I was surprised his cousins didn’t react at all, and just looked like they were watching some kind of movie.

“Wait, what the heck?” Oh geez.

A man blasted in the living room, and tried to separate me from Dave. The puppy boy reacted quickly though, and pushed him away. “What the fuck, old man?! This is my soulmate!”

Before the guy could go back at us, Dave’s dad popped in to save the day! “You guys just had to hold on for a bit until dinner was ready!” I felt like the ‘complaint’ was more directed towards who-I-thought-was Dave’s uncle, and Dave himself.

The puppy boy seemed a bit angry, he got in front of me and made sure I was out of view. It was a cute touch. I noticed the other two guys taking a step towards us too, like siding with Dave in this.

“Just, calm down, all of you, and start setting the table. Try to not take your eyes out while you do, alright?!” Mr. Walker surely knew how to take care of these situations. Was this a normal thing?

After a long stare, both guys nodded, and we all scrambled.

-----

I was sitting next to Dave and that other guy, Brad. Across me, Mr. Walker looked around with a calm expression, as he chewed on his meat piece. Thomas, Dave’s uncle, wasn’t exactly subtle when it came to me. His eyes were like daggers, fixated on me as I nervously stared at my plate.

It was amazing, and terrifying. The resemblance and also differences between both werewolves were quite noticeable. Mr. Walker was probably calm because he already knew about my thing with Dave. The cousins seemed to be quite attentive towards my every movement and sound. I felt like their eyes would automatically fixate on me at any little sound I would make, which was killing me inside. (Were they glowing yellow? Maybe it was my head playing tricks…)

Was I doing something wrong or offensive? I should excuse myself from the table.

“So…” Uncle Thomas started, before biting a big chunk of beef and gulping it down quickly. “Uh… soulmates, that’s neat. How did you two meet each other?”

‘First family dinner all over again…’ I thought to myself, as I tried to find the words for my answer.

“School, I was just walkin’ around and smelled him. Knew he was the one so… tried my best, huhuh.” Dave saved my ass, although his story was different this time. We lied during the first dinner. I couldn’t remember the excuse anymore, and that’s what bothers me about lies.

They’re usually hard to remember. That’s also the reason I’m a bad liar, my memory is awful.

“Yeah, that’s how it usually happens. You just walk around and get the smell, all the soulmate stories start exactly like that, ain’t that right?” Dave’s uncle looked at his brother next to him, who gave him a really angry looking frown.

“Go fuck yourself, got’cha?” I understood that reaction, The man lost his soulmate, I guess the memories were still painful? I’m no psychologist to tell.

“Yeah, sorry, shouldn’t have mentioned that… So uh… back to you, kiddo.” Oh, fuck. Dinner was nice, the meat was delicious! But Dave’s uncle didn’t seem to be… really fond of me. I was glad to see (Not really, now I sound like a dick) that he was bothering Mr. Walker too, so it’s nice to see that the consensus was… Dave’s uncle was a loud mouth ass. “You don't seem to have big muscles, but that's pretty much a given when you're a human."

“I’m sorry…” I mumbled, looking up at him. I tried to sound nice and not afraid, like Mr. Walker suggested before but… it was hard. “Not really good at sports and stuff like that, I guess-”

“Can see that. At least you’re a valedictorian, right?” I shook my head. High grades weren't my top priority. I did well at school, but didn’t focus enough for high grades to be a given. “No? That’s too bad.”

“Tom…” His brother tried to calm him. I noticed Dave needed some calm too. The big guy was clenching his fist with a lot of strength, as he held his knife with the other hand. He didn’t seem eager to cut the meat though, so I decided to step in for him.

I grabbed his fist beneath the table, feeling as it relaxed the longer I touched him. At the end, he grabbed my hand too, and I noticed his expression relaxed as well.

“Dad, don’t be such a dick. The guy’s fine, cut it out.” One of Dave’s cousins, big guy, uh… Brad! He seemed to be standing up for me, for some reason. He angrily stared at Dave’s uncle, without an apparent reason.

Uh… I felt like I was missing a big chunk of information here.

The uncle just stared back at his son, a bit surprised by his reaction. But before he could answer, or even react at all, Dave’s dad spoke up. “Well, it’s been fun, a neat reminder of why we never have family reunions, heh.”

“Ow, c’mon. It’s just a big friendly talk between men and…” He looked at me, seemingly ready to strike another insult. I grabbed Dave’s hand tighter.

But Dave’s dad didn’t give him the chance. “Dinner’s over. You guys will be going upstairs.”

“Roger that” I mumbled, leaving my plate with still a good chunk of meat. I didn’t let go of Dave’s hand, but he followed right after me.

“But I wanted a bit more beef...” The other cousin said. Logan, if I remember correctly. He was small, rather than muscled and big. I related to him because of that, glad to see not all male werewolves are big muscular people.

“Take the plate” Brad whispered to him, before following us upstairs.

“Okay, what’s going on-” I started to say, but my boyfriend shushed me.

“I’ll tell you all about it upstairs, just follow me and don’t make loud noises. Remember that they can hear everything in here” Dave interrupted me, as we went to his room. ‘Great, now my werewolf seems to be part of a mafia’.

-----

Locking the door behind us and his cousins, Dave ordered his cousins to stand aside, and they obeyed right away. “I’ll put some music here and…” His phone started playing some loud rock, but not loud enough to make the place feel annoying. “There, we can talk now.”

“Whaaat’s going on? And just tell me already, it feels quite bad to be insulted for no reason.”

“You weren’t really being insulted, bruh. I was.” Dave explained, motioning for me to go closer before leading me to his bed. “Uncle has… a bit of a problem, like pops has. But while pops knows when to shut his mouth, my uncle doesn’t, huh.”

“I don’t really see the insulting part there but continue…” I pointed out, but Dave just chuckled. Which seemed to cause a chain reaction and the werewolves guarding the door in front of us chuckled too.

“Sorry, yeah. Uh, well… My uncle is just bitter because my dad got an alpha son on his first try, me of course” I could figure that out on my own. The ‘I’m an alpha’ part I mean, he says it all the time. “Brad and Logan here are my betas. They were born as omegas, yeah, but I got them in my pack by willing choice because betas are usually stronger than omegas.”

The cousins were on the other side of the room. The small one, Logan, was tasting his meal with delight, while Brad leaned in to… hear our chat? They looked directly at Dave as soon as he mentioned them, before each one of them saying a “Hey” “‘Sup?”

“Why are they so… attentive?” Nosy mode on. I wanted to get answers, mostly because my curiosity was triggered now. ‘Obedient’ would have fitted better than ‘attentive’ though.

“Asked them to take care of you for the night, because I wasn’t sure if It would look good for me to do it. Pops is usually really fond of my uncle, but I think he didn’t like seeing him insulting my soulmate to get to me, bruh” Dave then put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. “I can put them back to normal if you want me to, but… they don’t really mind, so why bother?”

Uhm… I risk myself sounding like a dick right now, but I found the idea of the two cousins under Dave’s control quite arousing… I’m not going to say it to him, of course! I didn’t want him to feel bad or anything if he saw his soulmate interested in other guys…

“Where are they going to sleep, by the way? Or are they leaving after a bit?” It was after dinner already so… it wasn’t a bad thing to ask. Like, we had school tomorrow...

“Living room, sofa. One of them, at least. I’ve got a sleeping bag, because they both can’t fit on the sofa, so while the guest room is occupied by my uncle and… yeah, I’ll go get that old thing. Gimme a sec.”

Dave got up from the bed and left the room, leaving me sitting there alone as the two cousins stared at me.

“Hope the meat is still good…” I told Logan, trying to sound nice. I felt a bit bad, Dave made them look after me, and that made them ‘defend’ me against their father. Yeah, I definitely feel bad now. “Sorry for crashing into the dinner.”

“You kiddin’? You seem like a cool guy, dad was just being an ass. It’s okay though, I think he likes you” Brad answered, and I feel like he’s the one “kiddin’” here. “He’s just… We don’t like family dinners, we do them out of courtesy. Nothing personal, dad can be naturally obnoxious sometimes”

I wanted to say sorry again or something like that, but that’s when Dave bursted in with the sleeping bag. “Y’guys play rock paper scissors to decide who’ll sleep with the alpha… Like, beside me, don’t get weird ideas.”

I chuckled, as Dave threw the sleeping bag next to the cousins, and started taking off his shirt as he walked towards me. “You’re sleeping over, right? It’s still early, but I can make up for the bad time by cuddling, if you’d like.”

To be honest, it felt like a good idea to distract me from that… failed family dinner night. Never again I’ll ‘crash’ into a Walker dinner (Even though Dave knew I was coming over). Too many surprises for a lifetime, thank you.

I laid down, rolled over to leave him room. We wouldn’t be sleeping yet, I hoped. The big guy laid down beside me and quickly pulled me in.

“Fuck…”

“Yeah!” We turned towards the other guys and noticed Brad had won the rock paper scissors game. Logan just seemed defeated, he grabbed his empty plate and looked over at us.

“Well, g’night bros. Gonna be in the living room, I guess.”

“Buh-bye” Dave said, before turning around again and holding me in his arms. “Sorry again for all that before, bruh. Let's get some sleep, a’ight?”

Honestly, I think I didn't feel as offended as I should have. Best to just let things slide off, I guess. I decided to just nod, and doze off while hearing Brad setting up his sleeping bag.

I didn’t pay him much mind, though. My puppy boy's hug felt nice enough to help me relax quite quickly...

--------------------

Author’s note:

Took me long enough. But chapter 16 went up already, so gotta keep up with the content.

Chapter 16 is available in my Patreon, but it will go up as soon as I publish Chapter 17 there. Shouldn’t be long, I feel very inspired lately! (Hopefully it won’t take as long as this one did 😅).

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it <3.

#nate and dave #werewolf #mind control #brainwash #gay hypnosis #straight to gay #hypnotized #brainwashing

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nasaty · 3 years

Text

Forget me not

Aizawa-Sensei x Y/n-Sensei fic

TW: (eventually) violence, discussion of past death, just some bad feelings all around.

Part 8/??

You got up the next morning and texted Nemuri for the sixth time in a row.

Y/n- Nem, I am SOOO sorry. Please forgive me.

Nemuri - I’m not actually mad, it’s pretty erotic

Y/n- 🤭 stop I’m going to scream

Nemuri - like you were in the showers with Aizawa?

Y/n - 😶

Nemuri - HAH you’re a slut. love you

Y/n - 😂❤️

Tonight was your dinner with Shouta and you had no idea what to do. He had meetings all day and was going to meet you off campus since you both had to live in student dorms since USJ, and you didn’t want the students to find out. He sent you an overly formal email and invited to you to the Brass Cafe, which surprisingly, was not a cafe, but a restaurant and bar. You emailed back, equally as formal. He responded with a singular ‘lol’.

You decided to wear a dress, which was weird for you but this whole thing was weird for you so it worked. It was little and dark and had scarce sparkles throughout. You paired it with some dark translucent tights and black kitten heels and debated going out with just that, but decided on a small cardigan to give yourself a little more comfort.

Putting on a bit of makeup you debated what kind of perfume he would like. Maybe he would like something sweet like candy. He liked coffee and always smelled like sandalwood so maybe you should give off more neutral, warm scents. Or maybe he’s the type of guy that wants something different. Something rare and dangerous. But he’s so neutral, maybe he’d just like something clean or citrusy. You picked up your favorite and spritzed a bit in your hair, behind your ears, and on your neck, starting to feel giddy.

You checked yourself the mirror much more than usual and made your way out the door. A couple of students were in the lobby and you sighed to yourself, relieved both you and Shouta decided not meet in the dorms. You still didn’t know if UA had a policy against this.

You walked to the park you had decided to meet at and saw him sitting, leaning over on a bench. When he saw you he sat up straight and gave you a tired smile. He walked over to meet you halfway.

“Y/n…you look beautiful.” His eyes traced all over your body quickly.

He was wearing a dark dress shirt and slacks, and a blue tie with an ‘x’ pattern down it. He had his suit coat folded over his arm. You’d seen the tie before and thought he must only have one. His hair was pulled back, half of in inches a bun and half of it down, and he had trimmed his facial hair neatly. You got a waft of hair gel, aftershave, amber, and sandalwood.

You realized you’d been staring at him trying to commit this moment to memory as he lightly grasped your hand and pulled it up to his lips for a kiss. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and with it, left a few flowers, forget me nots.

He nudged you to grab his arm and you walked across the street to enter the restaurant. You decided to be seated by the window to people watch and both shared a bottle of wine as you had sweet conversation. You had just ordered your dinner when you heard a scream outside.

Both of you booked it out the front door when you saw a 20 foot tall villain shoving down trees in the park you had been in earlier. He was dark green and had a hard time moving, but impossibly strong. He definitely didn’t look human. It was dark, and the streetlights were the only thing illuminating the villain and when you looked to Shouta he had started making his way towards it.

You didn’t really excel in this kind of heroism, but you ran over anyway to see how you could help. Shouta was swinging around the villain with his binding cloth trying to pin its huge arms to its body. That’s when you realized-

“SHOUTA WATCH OUT ITS AMORPHOUS.”

“Shit.” He growled.

Your x-ray quirk told you that the villains bones were disintegrating and reforming inside of itself and it’s tendons were reattaching wherever it pleased. It was using its body mass to make whatever kind of limbs it wanted.

“Any ideas?” Shouta appeared behind you upside down from a hanging from a lamppost.

“Nothing….maybe we can at least contain it until someone with a strength quirk can show up. Did you call it in?”

“Yep.”

You and Shouta stood aimlessly for a moment while the formless, green blob creature moved towards you like molasses.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw a small blur that was smashed into by one of the changing limbs, and was thrown against a wall. You realized it was a student.

“SHIT”

You screamed, “KID, ARE YOU OKAY?!” as you ran towards him, keeping an eye on the green monster. You ran up to him and he was laying on the ground crumpled by the blow.

You used your quirk, other than a broken rib he was fine but he was unconscious. No signs of brain bleeding either, but a possible concussion. You were trying to help the kid up so you could take him away from the scene when you were hit by the villain and swiped into another building with the kid in your arms.

____________

You woke up a few minutes later to Shouta picking you up and taking you to an ambulance. He was repeating, “You’re okay, you’re going to be fine. It’s going to be okay,” quietly into your ear.

You were dazed but could tell the villain had been captured and there were a few emergency vehicles there to help with the aftermath. Shouta set you down on the back of the ambulance and listened to him ask you questions, but couldn’t really make out what he was saying. He caressed your face sweetly and called over an EMT.

A bright light flashed in your eyes and the EMT told Shouta to put you in the ambulance bed. You laid down and he held your hand as you road to the hospital, squeezing it to keep you awake.

When you arrived, Shouta helped you into a wheelchair off the ambulance and you felt like you could speak again.

“Shouta…? What happened…?”

“You have a concussion. Everyone is fine, we took care of the villain. It’s all okay.”

“Oh…good…” you relaxed a little in the chair and noticed your head pounding. “Ehh..” you held your hand to your skull.

“I know… you’re gonna be okay though… they’re going to take care of you.”

“Thank you, Shouta.” You looked behind and up at him as he pushed your wheelchair through the double doors, and he gave you a kiss on your forehead.

#aizawa fanfiction #aizawa x female reader #bnha aizawa #mha #bnha #aizawa slow burn #shouta aizawa #aizawa angst #aizawa fluff #aizawa smut

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marshmallow-phd · 6 years

Text

Sculpted Raven

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Summary: It had been just you and your brother for the longest time and that’s how you liked it. Politics and lies had drove you away from your home five years ago and that has since left a bitter taste in your mouth. While exploring the latest town you’d settled in, you met Chanyeol. He was everything you didn’t want: goofy, happy-go-lucky… a wolf. Mate pull or not, you were going to try everything you could avoid him while keeping the secret from your brother. But how long would you be able to fight? Will Chanyeol be able to pull you back into the world you swore you would never enter again?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I Final

Flopping down on the finally cleared off couch, you let out a hefty sigh. When your brother first suggested moving to this town, you were skeptical. A college town that was surrounded by woods. You were sure that he would get discovered, accidentally changing around a party of students or some other avoidable event. But he insisted on this place and since you swore to stay by his side… well, you didn’t really have a choice.

Unpacking was certainly the worst part of moving. The fact that you were the kind of person that once you started you couldn’t really stop just made it worse. However, you were finally done after doing nothing else since breakfast thanks to zero help from your big bro.

Speaking of the devil, Lon came waltzing in the front door, whistling to himself.

“Well, now this place looks like home!” he cheered.

You glared at him. “Yeah, no thanks to you.”

He blew you off, heading into the kitchen and going straight for the freshly stocked fridge. Opening the door and letting the cold air out, he just stood there, studying the shelves like he was practicing for the Bar Exam.

Pushing yourself up off the couch, you came up behind him, already in tune with whatever he was thinking. “I’m not cooking you dinner, too.”

He whined, “But your food is so good. And you know how I am in the kitchen.”

“Yeah… useless.” Sometimes, you really had to make yourself remember that he was nearly two years older than you.

Growing up, you were always looking after him. Especially since he used to be so tiny. The other boys in the pack would pick on him, bully him to no end. Well, when you all were still a part of a pack.

No. Nope. You didn’t go down that road. You no longer dealt with wolf business and that was how you liked it.

“I guess I’ll just have a sandwich then,” Lon grumbled.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t you mean six sandwiches?”

“I take offense to that,” he scoffed.

You crossed your arms as he turned to face you, letting the fridge door close with a thud. “It was meant to be offensive, idiot.”

Lon pounced, putting you in a loose chokehold before you could get away. Stupid jerk. You fought against his hold, grunting as you tried to gain some sort of leverage. You didn’t get any.

“Say you’re sorry and I’ll let go,” Lon mocked.

What were you, five?

“Not a chance,” you grunted stubbornly. Eventually, he’d let go. Right?

“I’m stronger, sis,” he laughed. “Always have been, always will.”

Irritated, you took the low road and elbowed him in the stomach. He groaned, his hold loosening enough for you to escape.

“Cheater,” he huffed.

Grabbing your leather jacket off the back of the couch, you saluted him. “We each have our ways. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Where are you going?” Lon jutted out his bottom lip. Ugh. You hated it when he pouted. Someday he’d learn that he wasn’t a cute puppy anymore.

“Out,” you answered simply before closing the door behind you. He was the one who chose this place, it was only justifiable that you got to explore it on your own as well.

It was well into the new semester. The air was starting to warm up as spring approached. College students were bucking down for their midterms, but that didn’t stop most of them from going out on a Friday night.

A small art festival was taking place in the downtown area so you decided to check that out. It was held in a large open area where dozens of white tents were set up in rows for the artists to display their works. Some had potter up for sale, other’s jewelry while most stuck to classic paintings and sketches.

Plenty of people were milling about, weaving in and out of the tents with treats in their hands from the food trucks parked nearby. You could easily hang around without attracting too much attention, blending in and not being noticed. Not that you actually looked like an artsy person with your worn leather jacket and ratted black jeans with massive holes in the knees. You made a note to yourself to remind your brother that your converse would need replacing soon.

A particular tent decorated in black and white and sepia photos of old ruins and worn objects caught your eye. You moseyed on over to it, squeezing around a small group of girls that were huddled around the entrance. Taking your time, you flipped through the photos that were housed in black cardboard frames to keep them from bending.

You were absolutely fascinated. More colorful pictures were hidden behind the grainy ones that originally caught your eyes. Beautiful blues and greens that made up the northern lights. Golden sand that contrasted against the almost-white blue sky. Waterfalls and hot springs. But your absolute favorites were pictures the photographer had somehow gotten inside the Chernobyl disaster area.

There were crumbled up books, decaying buildings, and even an old typewriter. The ones that really drew you in, though, were the many pianos that were falling apart. Dust and cobwebs covered the chipping wood. Many had missing keys and their rusting stings inside were exposed for the world to see. The last one you came to had fallen onto its back, the pieces still left barely holding together.

You felt a lot like those pianos. A shell of your former self. Where there used to be a once happy and carefree little girl who wore dresses and got along with other kids, now there was only a bitter woman who preferred to left alone. You were crumbling away inside with no desire to tape the pieces back together.

“See anything you like?”

Glancing up, you rolled your eyes as you pushed the stack of photos with your index finger back to their original position, leaning away from you for the next person to sort through.

A fairly tall boy with blonde hair and tanned skin was holding himself up against the table of boxes that housed the artist’s work in a manner that he probably thought was suave and cool.

“Not interested,” you deadpanned. Stuffing your hands in your pockets, you walked around him and away from the breathtaking pictures. It’s not like you had extra money to buy them anyway.

“Now that’s not very nice.” The guy had long legs and so he caught up to you in less than two strides.

“Do I look like I do nice?” you snapped. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.

In your peripheral, you saw him rake his eyes up and down. “I’d say you look nice. A few rough edges, maybe, but I think I could smooth them out.”

You lost it. Whirling on him, you put up your wall and riled up your tough girl act.

“Listen,” you growled. “I. Am not. Interested. So go chase a short skirt that might actually care about your pathetic attempts at flirting.”

With a set jaw, he opened his mouth to-

“Tao!”

He clamped his mouth shut tight and his eyes flashed yellow, just for a second.

Shit. You pissed off a wolf. Your brother hadn’t mentioned that there were other wolves here. He probably didn’t even know. The idiot.

Two other tall wolves stood about ten feet away. The one in front of you - Tao - whined before throwing you a glare and running off to join his pack members. The tallest one with a very authoritative aura to him grabbed Tao by his neck and started dragging him away. Tao let out a few cries of pain, but that didn’t deter his brother.

Just before you could go about your business, the second wolf caught your eye. He had a soft face outlined by light brown hair and ears that stuck out a bit. Dark, contrasting brown eyes stared at you in fascination. His eyebrows were pulled together in confusion. An uncomfortable feeling settling in your stomach, you backed up a few steps before turning around and inserting yourself into the crowd that was moving in the opposite direction of the wolf.

You decided it was time for you to head back home and you left the art festival and walked along the empty sidewalks of the business district.

To no one’s surprise, your brother was sprawled out on the couch, munching away at sandwich number who knows what. As soon as the door was shut behind you, you marched up to the couch and slapped your brother upside the head.

“Ow!” he whined through a mouth full of food. “What was that?”

“Did you even do any sort of freaking research before choosing this place?” you yelled.

Tossing the sandwich down on the coffee table, your brother sat up. “Of course I did! Do you remember what happened last time?”

Of course you did. The idiot didn’t realize that a particularly nasty pack had already settled in the area a few months back. Your brother had needed several days to heal up after that encounter while you searched desperately to find anywhere else to live that wasn’t there. The worst part was that you actually liked the area.

“Why the hell do you think I’m asking?” As much as you loved your brother, he could be a real idiot sometimes. “Did you happen to miss the wolves that already live here?”

Lon shook his head. “No, I know they’re here.”

You blinked. Several times. “Excuse me?”

“I met one of them when I was scouting the place out,” he elaborated. “I was bouncing around the different auto shops, seeing anyone had any openings. I came across a new shop that was looking for hire. The owner spotted what I was right away. He doesn’t care. It’s his pack that claims this territory, but as long as we don’t cross them, we’re fine.”

Okay with your brother’s presence or not, you were not satisfied or comforted by his explanation Or the fact that he left that important detail out. “And you didn’t think that maybe I should know about this?”

“Nope.” God, he even did the lip pop on the “p” that you hated so much. “I knew you want to find a different place and I like it here. I start at the shop tomorrow and we already signed a six month lease on the place. So chill out.”

He was absolutely correct. You would have fought tooth and nail to go somewhere else. You didn’t trust wolves. After the shit the pack pulled against your family… well, let’s just say that if your brother didn’t turn into a big hairy dog every once in a while, then you would have made sure to extinct that part of your life forever. Even so, you did a pretty good job of avoiding the supernatural.

“Fine,” you grumbled. Walking around him, you snatched up his sandwich before heading down the hall to your room.”

“Hey!” Lon called after you.

Officially claiming the sandwich as your own, you took a large bite out of the corner. “You’ve had enough!”

Honestly, you should probably get a job. It might cure this boredom you had. But your brother insisted on being the only breadwinner in the family and didn’t really agree with you finding full time work as well.

You could always take classes. The college might actually take you. You had decent grades in high school. Not honor society worthy, but still not bad. You’d taken some college courses in the past after you first graduated, but the idea of staying in a lecture hall for over an hour while some old guy yapped away like what he was saying was actually important wasn’t how you prefered to spend your time.

With no other appealing tasks, you once again set out in randomly walking around the city. Out of the seven days you’d been settled in this place, this was about the fourth time you’d spent it this way. Each time, you hit a different area, memorizing the street names and buildings located there but always avoided the college. According to your brother, most of the pack was enrolled at the university and you didn’t feel like having another run-in with any of them. Lon hadn’t really met of them either, but he wasn’t too worried. His boss apparently was of the higher ups of the pack and treated him well.

Thinking about your brother made you realize that you hadn’t gone to visit him at work yet. While you knew where the shop was located approximately and what it was called, you hadn’t physically been there yet. You decided that could cure an hour or so and you brought up the shop on your phone, following the map until you were outside the entrance.

There was a car in each of the three slots of the garage with a few mechanics milling about. You shifted back and forth on your feet while your eyes searched for your brother. You had the right shop, didn’t you?

“Can I help you?”

The really tall wolf from the night at the festival walked up to you, wiping his hands with an already dirty rag.

“Um,” you scratched the side of your neck. “I’m looking for Lon?”

A look of epiphany lit up the wolf’s eyes. “Ah. you must be the little sister.” He held out his hand. “I’m Kris.”

Hesitantly, you took his hand, shaking it politely. “(y/n).”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Kris smiled. He motioned with his head, “Follow me. Lon’s under a car right now.”

Oh. That explained why you didn’t seem him. You followed Kris to the car all the way to the end of the garage. Lon was lying on a shop roller on the floor underneath a blue convertible. Kris hit his palm against the door twice.

“Hey, Lon, you’ve got a visitor.”

Your brother pushed himself out from under the car. “(y/n)? What are you doing here?”

You shrugged. “I was bored.”

Lon grunted as he got to his feet. “Sorry, Kris.”

Kris waved it away. “Don’t worry about it. Family’s important. Besides, the owner won’t be picking up until tomorrow. No rush.” He looked at you and nodded. “It was nice to meet you.”

You gave him a slightly forced smiled. You couldn’t help it. Too many years spent being weary of other wolves. “You, too.”

Now just the two of you, Lon sighed, shaking his head at you. “Did you at least bring me lunch?”

“No,” you scoffed. “I was just walking around, figured I’d kill some time here, see what you do with your day.” You leaned against the car, stuffing your hands in your pockets.

Like the annoying brother he was, Lon pulled the beanie from your head and then tugged on your jacket. “Don’t scratch the car. I’ll have to pay for that.”

Rolling your eyes, you swiped your hat back and stuffed it in your pocket before straightening up. “Yeah, right. You could fix a small scratch in your sleep without spending a dime.”

Lon had always loved tinkering with cars ever since he was kid. He’d go on and on about cylinders and nitro gas and racer movies. A permanent smell of grease followed him everywhere. Your dad always encouraged it, buying him old clunkers that Lon would spend hours pulling apart and putting back together again. You’d usually hang out with him in the garage doing your homework or just sitting on the floor, watching him. The garage was where he was happiest and seeing your brother happy made you content.

That was always the height of your emotions: contentment. You weren’t exactly sure what “happy” was anymore. That was a feeling you hadn’t had for a very long time. Neutral was where you stayed most of the time, teetering on angry. Angry at the old pack, angry at your dad, angry at the world. Usually, you were able to stamp it down. Anger was useless when you had nowhere to direct it.

“Still,” Lon scolded, flicking your forehead, “don’t lean on the car.”

Looking around the shop, you watched as the mechanics as joked around and teased each other. Their laughs echoed off the walls and made the atmosphere an enjoyable one.

“Do you like it here?” you asked.

With a big smile, he nodded. “Yeah. I like it a lot. Kris is a good man to work for. And I don’t have to hide what I am.”

You frowned. “Are the others-”

“Nah,” he didn’t even let you finish. “Just Kris knows. But that means I don’t have to hide it from him if… something were to happen.”

You didn’t exactly want to think about what could happen if your brother was to accidentally lose his temper.

“That’s good.”

“Kris!”

Your head snapped around to the voice that had called for the shop owner.

Ugh.

It was the brown haired wolf from the festival. Tao wasn’t with him, thankfully. This time, a different sandy haired boy was with him along with a literal incarnation of a puppy. So much for no more running into them. Weren’t they supposed to be in school?

Kris looked up from the engine he was currently looking at. “Hey, guys! What’s up?”

You turned back to your brother. “I’m going to go ahead go. I’ll see you at home.”

“Okay!” Lon threw an arm over your shoulder, pulling in so he could plant a kiss on the top of your head. You shoved him away, trying to feign annoyance, but it didn’t work. You loved affection from your brother.

Now the trick was to sneak out of the garage without being noticed. You were almost in the clear, taking quick but quiet steps. The sidewalk outside was almost in your reach….

“Hey, wait!”

You didn’t wait. Your pace quickened, hoping that your obvious determination to not stop would deter his chase. Unfortunately, not.

“Hey!” The wolf grabbed your arm and brought you to a stop before spinning you around to face him.

“What?” you growled.

“I’m Chanyeol,” he blurted.

You raised an eyebrow. “So?”

As hard as it was, you tried not to focus on his face. Cute boys weren’t your type at all. Especially cute boys that didn’t understand that you obviously didn’t want to be bothered. One would think that after his friend being shot down last week, the hint would be painted on a billboard sign that you weren’t interested.

But then you really met his eyes.

Your heart was doing something funny. It was speeding up and not in the usual flight or fight way that you were used to. A smile grew on Chanyeol’s face. It was a little lopsided as it crinkled the sides of his eyes. It just made your heart jump even more.

No. Hell no.

“What’s your name?” he asked softly.

“Not a chance.”

You wretched your arm out of his grasp and took off. As fast as your feet could carry you, you raced back to your apartment, not stopping until you were safe within its walls. Collapsing against the door, you slid down to the floor, releasing a sound that was a mix of a groan and a whine the whole way.

This was so not happening to you. It wasn’t going to happen to you. Not on your watch.

Taking off your jacket, you rolled it up into a ball until your noticed your pockets were empty. Searching all around you and even risking being found to look outside your apartment, you desperately wanted to find your purple beanie. It was your favorite and it was nowhere to be found.

Great. Just freaking great.

One week here and you hated this place already. Hopefully, you dropped it back at the shop and your brother was able to pick it up. If not - you didn’t want to think about the possible alternative. From now on, you were going to have to become a recluse. And you had make sure that your brother never found out.

#exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #chanyeol x reader #Park Chanyeol #huang zitao #tao #kris wu #wu yifan #Sculpted Raven #untamed wolf universe

1K notes · View notes

svubloods · 7 years

Text

Imagine your siblings, Danny, Erin, and Jamie, embarrassing you in front your boyfriend Sonny

(A/N: Hope you enjoy this. I salvaged around half of this but I don’t think I can do anymore salvaging of the lost imagines. So I think I’ll just do some of the requests I’ve got. Which have been really great because they give me tons of creative freedom! Loads of Nick in particular actually. As well as rewriting some of the lost ones because I really liked those ideas. So I’ll try and post on Wednesdays and Sundays but I'm so busy ATM that I don’t know if that will be accurate. Just wait till my exams are over and things will be much more frequent. But I hope you enjoy this. I repurposed an old argument from another imagine and put it in this, though I added and changed parts, it was just perfect for this story and I love it. Hope you don’t mind! A Rafael one is up next, just so you know!)

Imagine your siblings, Danny, Erin, and Jamie, embarrassing you in front your boyfriend Sonny

“Y/N!” Your Grandfather called from the landing below.

“Yep?” You replied, hanging down from an adjacent bar above the attic hatch so your head popped out upside down.

“Can you be careful, please?” He said shooting you a disappointing look while shaking his head but you knew that he found it funny.

“Got it Pop,” You grinned pulling yourself up again using your legs, pulling yourself back in the attic.

“I’m being serious, Y/N. Your Dad will never forgive himself or me if you get hurt while he is punishing you,” He warned.

“Maybe, that’s my plan,” You chuckled as you stood back up again and started grabbing boxes again.

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” He sighed, “Hurry up and pass me a box,”

“With your back?” You said out of earshot before swinging down again and hanging upside down to look at him, “Dad will never forgive me if you hurt while I’m being punished.”

“Will you!” He warned playfully with a dramatic hand gesture.

“I’ll hand Sonny the box when he gets back,” You informed.

“I can’t believe he skipped out on going to the best Carnival of the year to hang around here with us while you’re being punished,” He commented.

“What can I say?” You called down to him, “He loves me,”

“Or he’s afraid of you,” You heard Danny quip from below.

“Or she's threatening him?” Erin added, apparently coming back too.

“Or maybe I really am in love with her,” You finally heard Sonny’s voice say.

“You see,” You smirked, at Erin and Danny, swinging down again.

“Sonny! Blink twice if you need help,” Danny whispered loudly to him.

“Shut up Danny!” You warned, taking an upside down swing at him.

“Y/N!” Your Grandpa warned again.

“Sorry,” You apologized, swinging back into the attic again.

“What’s going on?” You heard Jamie asking appearing again.

“I’m helping a special victim,” Danny joked.

“Take a box,” You huffed, “No amount of jokes from either of you is going to make up for the fact that we’re only here because you to can’t stop arguing.”

“I just can’t believe that all of you still get punished for arguing with each other,” Sonny chuckled, clearly amused by all of yours display.

“I just can’t believe you didn’t take up the invitation to go with my dad, the boys, Linda and Nicky to the carnival,” Erin said to Sonny as Danny moved out the way and you handed her box to take downstairs.

“It wouldn’t be any fun without Y/N,” Sonny answered as you handed him a box and gave him a kiss.

“I can’t wait until you two get married and hate each other,” Danny commented before heading down the stairs.

“If they make it that far,” Erin teased.

“Not every relationship is destined to for divorce Erin,” You countered.

“Ooo,” Jamie grinned as you handed him the last box and gave you a fist bump before turning around and heading down the stairs himself.

Your Grandpa had followed your siblings down and Sonny had headed back up the stairs to meet you. You were tidying up the mess you’d made in the attic and then you planned on coming down so you could complete the second stage of your punishment.

“You need help coming down?” Sonny called up to you when he finally reached you and you were fishing up.

“Sure you can handle me?” You teased.

“I think both of us know I can,” He replied, you knew he was smirking right by the sound of his voice.

“Alright then,” You complied.

You leveraged yourself and then lowered the bottom half of yourself down. Once you felt Sonny’s hands around you let go and closed the attic door behind you. Sonny lowered you down, still holding you up until you were at eye level.

“You going to let me down, Detective?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows at him.

“Not yet,” He whispered, repositioning hands slowed down and hosting you up slightly so you had to wrap your legs around his waist.

He kissed you and backed up until your back hit the wall gently. You leaned into it even though you were cautious. You got into it despite hesitating at first and only pulled away when you needed to get up for air.

“Do I need to remind you that we are in my Father’s house and my family is downstairs including my two older brothers,” You giggled as you pulled away.

“I know I like the danger,” He teased.

“Here’s me thinking I was the dangerous one,” You smirked into his lips.

“Guess there is a lot you don’t know about me,” He whispered into your ear before kissing your neck. “I don’t think so,” You chuckled.

“You don’t?” He questioned, surprised.

“You’re an open book but I like this dangerous, unpredictable, sexy side of you,” You reassured.

“Do you?” He smirked.

“Mmm,” You agreed eagerly, kissing him again.

“I can definitely tell,” He chuckled.

“Great work Detective,” You said sarcastically.

“Hey,” He protested, “No need to be bad,”

“Well if one of us needs to be,” You quipped, “Especially when one of us is so so sweet to everyone,”

“You don’t like that?” He asked.

“You know I do,” You winked, “You know what I like,”

“I do,” He agreed, kissing you again and doing it exactly the way you liked.

“Why did you stay here instead of going the carnival? You know were being punished, right? And the carnival has caramel popcorn. Your favorite,” You asked and reminded once you pulled away from another long makeup session.

“Nothing ever beats a front row seat to best show there is. The Reagans,” He joked.

“Families that argue are the ones that love each other the most,” You reminded.

“I know but your guys are one of the most entertaining things I’ve ever seen. You don’t even realize how hilarious you guys are when you argue! How could I miss out on the possibility of an encore of that!” He chuckled, “And anyway how could I miss out on the chance to see all your embarrassing moments in the form of Childhood pictures and videos,”

“Come on let’s go. I got to find all the embarrassing stuff before Danny does so he can’t use it against me,” You sighed, patting Sonny on the ass to prompt him to move.

“As you wish,” He grinned, holding you tighter and walking towards the staircase.

“Sonny put me down,” You reminded as you hit the top of the staircase.

“Right,” He nodded, letting you down gently, “Come on! The show is about to start!”

One of your favorite things about Sonny was how much he enjoyed spending time with your family and how much equally they all liked spending time with him. You know for a fact that he thought he was prepared for a family like yours because he himself was from a big family himself. Oh, boy was he wrong. Your family was a special breed of crazy and admittedly it took him awhile to understand the dynamic between you and your siblings. Sure you argued like you hated each other but there was anything you wouldn’t do for each other. Especially since Joe you were all extremely close. You had each other back out in the real world but in the comfort of your Dad’s house, it was a battleground for your differing experiences. You understand why some people get confused about all of your relationships.

Today was no different. It’s no secret that it’s usually Erin and Danny that argue at Sunday lunch. But sometimes you, Jamie and the rest of the table gets dragged in and today was no different. Danny and Erin were arguing and you joined in because it was a topic that you were knowledgeable about, though you fail to recall it right now. Jamie unusually had a differing opinion to you. So an argument erupted between the two of you simultaneously to Erin and Danny’s. Arguments that involved the four of you, were usually between Erin and Danny and you and Jamie. It was a natural thing. You and Jamie were closer in age and Danny and Erin was.

So it was a strange occurrence today but what made it even worse wasn’t even the argument. The argument settled after your Dad scolded you all. Then you don’t remember how the topic came up but pretty inappropriately you all started discussing each other sex lives growing up and how you used to overhear each other doing the deed constantly.

“Danny, I don’t know why you’re acting like you’ve never been caught by any of us doing the deed,” Erin commented after Danny had picked on you during dinner, describing to everyone the time he caught you and your ex-boyfriend doing it in the backseat of your car, much to the table dismay but you knew Sonny was hanging on his every word, excited to finally have some dirt on you as you knew way more embracing things about him that he did you.

“I thought we weren’t ever going to mention that,” Danny stated, suddenly going quietly.

“What are we not mentioning?” You asked, smirking at Danny, intrigued.

“Jamie and I walked in on Danny doing it on the couch when he was nineteen with his then girlfriend.” Erin grinned sadistically as she told everyone the story while Danny crumbled under everyone's gaze, especially Linda’s.

“How old was I?” Jamie questioned suddenly and unexpectedly interrupting the story to ask.

“I don’t know about six.” Erin offered, shrugging her shoulders.

“I knew I wasn’t making it up.” He announced.

“Making what up?” You asked confused, turning to look across at him.

“One of my earliest memories is seeing two people on the couch, doing it to the sound of Erin screaming.” He elaborated, a look of all knowing realization lighting up his face, “I told mom about it and she took me to the doctor.”

“The doctor?” You questioned, confused but still immensely intrigued.

“Yeah, she thought I was some sort of six-year-old sex manic. So she sent me to a therapist to make sure I wasn’t crazy.” He continued to explain.

“A therapist?” You began to cackle, finding it hilarious.

“Oh yeah, I knew about that,” Danny admitted, playing it off casually, but giving Jamie a crooked half smile.

“And you didn’t stop her?” He demanded.

“And risk getting in trouble with mom? Hell no! It didn’t do you any harm did it? If anything, I did you a favor! It made you the man you are today. You wouldn’t be the person you are today if you didn’t have that experience. Isn’t that a part of the mental health thing you’re always going on about!” Danny tried to correct but failed in your opinion, miserably, might you add.

Jamie shook his head in disbelief, “I had to go for like six months, Danny! I had to drop soccer for it!”

“A therapist!” You repeated once again, still laughing.

“Well, at least I’m the only the one no one around here has heard. Joe used to hear Erin all the time.” Jamie stated, calming down before mentioning.

“Not so fast, Jameson. I used to hear you all the time.” You announced with a smirk.

“You did?” he questioned, shocked.

You nodded, “Are rooms were right next to each other and there is an extremely thin wall separating them.”  “No, you didn’t.” He defied.

“Yes, I did.” You stated again adamantly.

“No.” He shook his head in disbelief, “You couldn’t have!

“Yes,” You corrected before dramatically acting out, “Does this sound familiar? Is…it…in yet?”

“I can’t believe you…” Jamie sighed embarrassed and if Sonny wasn’t separating you both he would have lunged at you.

Danny and Erin started cackling. You followed suit, your stomach hurting. Your laughter was infectious. Suddenly everyone at the table was laughing, including your Dad. While Jamie, just sat there as mortified as you were at the start. You were all trying to stop but couldn’t help but splutter

“All right, that’s enough.” He stated finally, stifling back a laugh and composing himself, “I don’t want to hear a word from any of you. You argue at the table and then you openly discuss how you broke the rules. Absolutely inappropriate for the dinner table not to mention two of you have children at the table.”

You all shut up quickly recognizing his stern voice from your childhoods.

“The foods great Pop,” Your Dad complimented.

“It’s very nice, Henry” Linda chimed in too.

“Thank you.” Pop thanked.

“Is it in yet!” Danny repeated unable to hold it in, causing the rest of you, meaning him, Erin, you and Jamie, to laugh as well.

The rest if the table looked at the four of you disapprovingly. I guess they couldn’t believe how childish you were all being. But that's what happens when you are around the people you actually grew up with. What do they expect?

“That is enough! All of you out. I deal with you later.” Your Dad said finally ordering you all out, mimicking the punishments from your childhoods.

You all got up simultaneously, joining at the end of the table in twos. Still laughing and making fun of each other as you all retreated to the living room, awaiting a stern talking too from your Dad for the inappropriate talk at Sunday dinner.

Anyway, after everyone else finished dinner. Your Father came in and exactly like he did when you were kids he scolded you for being inappropriate and for breaking the rules all those years ago. And to punish all of you, because that was a still a thing despite you all being adults, he said you couldn’t go to the carnival that you all went to every year and instead you had to clean out the attic with Pop. A job that you’d all been avoiding and passing onto for each other for at least a year. Sonny was allowed to go with them but he chose to stay with the four you and help out.

And now you know why…

“This is Y/N’s box!” Danny exclaimed as you headed into the room where they were all crowding over the boxes, sitting and going through them.

“Thank you very much,” You replied, leaning over the sofa where he was sitting and snatching it out of his hands.

“Thank you,” Sonny smiled, taking it out of yours.

“Hey!” You protested.

“I’m curious,” He shrugged, walking past you and sitting down gleefully in an armchair and opening the box.

“Y/N, look at this!” Jamie said, holding up a photo and showing you.

“It’s Danny’s bowl cut!” You squealed in delight, grabbing the picture out of his hand so you could examine up close for yourself before joking, “She’s beautiful,”

“Watch it,” Danny warned from the other side of the room.

Sonny had taken a seat in an armchair was gleefully digging through your box and examining the contents.

“Sorry Danielle,” You winked before ducking as a pillow flew in your direction.

“Settle down,” Your Grandpa warned half-heartedly as he began looking through a box,

“Do you two see this?” Erin piped up flashing you and Jamie a picture, “Do you see how happy we all were before the both of you were born,”

“Look at Dad,” Danny chimed in, “Dad doesn’t have a single wrinkle,”

“That’s because he’s thirty in the picture,” Jamie countered, “It’s like me saying that you look young. Of course you do because you’re only ten in that picture,”

“Details,” Danny shrugged off, “But you have to admit you two aged them. Because you’re both so annoying,”

“Good job on that insult Danny boy,” You joked, “Really clever. Just over fourth grade level,”

Danny flipped you off when Grandpa turned away. Everyone continued to engage in chatter about the contents of the boxes. Insults flew as expectedly but progress was being made despite the frequent breaks you took to showcase whatever embarrassing picture or artifact you’d all just found. You were all successfully separating the important stuff from the not so important stuff. Sonny continued to sit quietly in the corner going through your box.

Your Dad kept one for each of you.

“How’s it going?” You smirked, after about half an hour of not hearing anything from it.

“Pretty well,” He finally said, looking up at you before showing you a picture, “You look so cute with curly hair,”

“Why, thank you,” You grinned, sitting down on the armchair and looking at the picture yourself.

“You should wear it like that more often,” He complimented.

“Maybe, I will,” You shrugged.

“I also didn’t know that you used to be a child model,” He announced, showing you another picture, “Very pretty,”

“Not that impressive in this house,” You chuckled, “All of us modeled when we were kids…well except for Danny,”

“That’s only because mom didn’t know about it when I was that age,” Danny argued, “I could have done it too,”

“Sure,” You nodded, “Is that what mom told you?”

“Maybe,” He played off.

“Is that you and Joe?” Sonny inquired delicately.

“Yeah,” You smiled, looking down at the picture he handed to you, “My mom took this picture the day he taught me how to ride a bike,” “Are you okay, Y/N?” Sonny asked after a couple of what seemed like minutes of silence between the two of you.

“Oh yeah,” You reassured, waving your hand and handing him back the picture, “I just haven't thought about this for a while.”

“I’m sorry…” Sonny went to say.

“No, no,” You interrupted, “You don’t have to be sorry. It was actually nice to think about him. I haven’t in while. Well, not all the good stuff, like this. That was a great day I spent with him.”

“I wish I could have met him,” Sonny whispered, putting his hand on your cheek and wiping the tear that had spilled down you face as you took back the picture and stared at it again.

It was a picture of seventeen-year-old Joe, holding onto a bright pink bicycle, stabilizing it for you. While seven year old you, is riding the bike, your hands clutching the handlebars and a big toothy grin, right at your mom and the camera. How was too busy making sure you didn’t fall to the side with stabilizers that he wasn’t looking at the camera's direction.

“So do I,” You smiled sadly, leaning into his cheek, “He would have loved you. You’d honestly have been great friends. You might have left me for him.”

“I doubt it,” Sonny chuckled softly, “I can’t live without you,”

“Well, aren’t you sweetly overdramatic,” You teased, pulling at his cheek before kissing the other.

“I love you,” Sonny whispered, pressing a brief gentle kiss onto your lips.

“I love you too,” You smiled, “Find anything else?”

“Well, I found this gem,” He informed, shuffling and producing another picture.

It was a picture of two years old you wearing oversized sunglasses and clutching a woman’s handbag on your shoulder. You’d obviously had just raided either your Mom’s or Erin’s closet before that picture.

“You are adorable,” He complimented, over dramatically.

“Ah hah!” Danny cheered suddenly, holding an old VHS tape in the air “I’ve found it.”

“You did,” Erin grinned, standing up beside him happily.

“What is it?” You asked innocently, you had slipped onto Sonny’s lap from the armrest and you were wrapped up in his arms,

“Your infamous sixth-grade play,” He informed.

“No,” You stated, shocked, “Mom told me she erased it,”

“And you believed her,” Danny smirked, taking a step towards the player which conveniently was still in your living room, despite the obsolete aspect of it.

“I remember that day,” Jamie commented, remembering, “Honestly, it was one of the nest days of my life,”

“Then you have pretty sad life,” You commented in turn.

“Why remember it when we can watch it?” Danny winked, bolting to the TV set.

“Don’t you dare!” You warned, jumping up, out of Sonny’s arms and about to tackle him.

You were swept up and held back by Jamie.

“Jamie! Let me down.” You protested, “We’re on the same team!”

“Sorry but I sort of want to see it again,” He sighed, struggling to keep you under control in his arms as you thrashed about.

“Traitor,” You accused, still hitting him in an attempt to make him let you go, “Sonny!”

“Sorry babe,” He began hesitantly, “But now I’m curious about what happened.”

“Sonny!” You warned, your eyes glaring at him as you still struggled with Jamie.

“I love you,” He said cautiously and warily, before leaning down awkwardly and giving you a kiss on the cheek while you were still captured.

“You wait,” You warned, huffing as Danny rewound the tape.

“This is the best day of my life,” Danny giggled like a school girl, “Sonny take a seat. This will be the best thing you ever see,”

“I’m going to shoot you,” You directed at Danny.

“After this, you can do whatever you want,” He smiled gleefully, “After, reliving this. I’ll die happy.”

“Is this really that bad?” Sonny asked, taking a seat on the couch front and center to the TV.

“Yes,” All four you said simultaneously.

“In my defense,” You began as the tape did, everyone was glued to the screen and Jamie had finally let you go in favor of getting a good view of the screen, “If I had known he was allergic. I would have given him much less,”

278 notes · View notes

weneverfreeze · 7 years

Note

Sydney. My dear. I will love you forever if you write samnat for one of those au prompts you just reblogged (im feeling 1, 6, or 7 for them, but really any prompt is fine 😄😄)

Okay sorry this is late Mercedes! This didn’t get a reread, just so you know, and I started writing the ending at around 1 AM and it’s 4:30 (lolol it’s 4:47 now) in the morning right now, so yeah:

1. I’m sleeping over at my friend’s flat from university after study group and just got woken up in the middle of the night by their roommate, who is sitting in the kitchen, listening very loudly to the dirty dancing soundtrack and crying. Like wtf, I didn’t even know they had a roommate and normally I would yell at you but damn you are cute. You really need to stop tho dude, its 4am, some people in this house want to sleep AU

6. We work out at the same gym and you are my declared rival because we have the same workout routine and you are always better than me and on my way to the locker room I passed you in the shower where you were singing the opening of hannah montana and I can still hear you and you switched to the lion king now and even though I hate you I think I am kind of in love with you AU

7. I’m hiding in the bathroom of a restaurant from a spectacularly awful tinder date and you are in a similar situation because a guy at the bar just won’t stop hitting on you and now we are planning an epic escape together even though we only met ten minutes ago AU

WC: 5747

There are two gyms on campus. Two gyms for nearly 40,000 people, so it stands to reason that you’d run into people very rarely. Two gyms, 40,000 people, seven days in a week, fourteen hours give or take each day when they’re open, four floors of exercise equipment and courts and weights and two pools per gym. This isn’t even factoring in her work schedule or classes, but somehow Natasha’s managed to run into this asshole every single time she goes to the gym. Out of both gyms and all the rooms and all the possible exercise routines. Every single time.

The first time she thought maybe it was just coincidence. It happens now and then of course, that someone comes in and has a similar routine to the one she’s perfected over the last six years. Last time it was Clint though, and that was first semester sophomore year, and that was only because Nat asked him. He’d complained the entire time about how hockey’s enough exercise for the both of them, and Nat I’m going to mess up my legs or my arms or my nose, okay, you remember how I got a concussion swimming. Clint came with maybe four times before deciding to do yoga by himself.

Since then Natasha had been alone in her workout routine. Thirty minutes on the bike, thirty doing weights, and thirty on the thigh machine downstairs on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Saturday’s for lazy laps in the pool when she isn’t making burritos at Chipotle. Her routine is simple and easy. In and out within 90 minutes.

But this asshole. Showing up all cocky and self-important. He’s been mirroring her pretty consistently the last month or so. At first it wasn’t that noticeable—he’s cute, maybe, in that sweaty sort of athletic way that she won’t pretend not to like, but she’s dated girls and guys like that before, so—just another body on the bikes a little down the row, or another person curling dumbbells, or another guy waiting for a weight machine.

Then it started being a thing. Nat had glanced over week 1.5 of this whatever-it-is at the same time he had, and they shared a nod and went back to biking. He seemed like an asshole even then. It was something, she figured, to do with how he wore cologne even when working out.

Then, week 2, it had been a very full Wednesday, and the only bikes were right next to each other. He was definitely looking at the display on her machine and she’d never tell Clint or Maria that that was the reason she was walking a little stiffly for three days afterward, because she definitely hadn’t been going a little faster than she should have been and checking his display as well.

Weeks 3 and 4 had been more of the same, except at week 3.5 she’d realized what exactly is so asshole-y about him: he doesn’t sweat, and he bikes further and can lift more than she can. (She’s better overall on the thigh machine, thank you, hockey.) Natasha would be over here straining to go up one last hill while he’d be pedalling easy as anything, scrolling through some article on his phone.

Natasha had been hoping when she walked in today that he wouldn’t be here, but no such luck, and he’d taken the machine she favors. She glances to her left; he catches her look, and raises his water bottle in an obnoxious salute. Inwardly she flips him off.

Only five minutes in. She readjusts her headphones. Five minutes in. She can do this.

The men’s and women’s locker rooms share a wall. Through numerous, painful post-workout showers, Natasha’s determined that unfortunately the wall must be dividing the shower sections of both locker rooms; someone’s been having a field day singing show tunes and pop music and rapping while she’s in the shower.

The variety, she thinks as hangs up her towel, is pretty impressive. Today the singer’s belting out Best of Both Worlds from Hannah Montana.

It’s not unpleasant today, which is surprising. The singer’s voice goes oddly well with the theme song.

The singer switches to Circle of Life. She joins in and they sing together until the water goes cold.

(It goes cold after six minutes.)

New Text Message

Clintyyy: Takeout?

Me: You’re buying

Clintyyy: Hey now, no

Clintyyy: It’s your turn

Me: Don’t make me bring up Budapest again

Me: You owe me

Clintyyy: ….fine

Me: Good

Clintyyy: Preference?

Me: Anything but tacos

Me: Chipotle has me sick of tacos

Me: You’ve never known true taco hatred until even just the smell makes you want to throw ingredients everywhere

Clintyyy: Please tell me you did not do that

Me: (read at 7:39)

Clintyyy: Tasha?

Me: (read at 7:43)

Clintyyy: We gotta pay rent still you’ve got a job right

Me: Of course I do

Clintyyy: Don’t do that to me

Clint’s got fried rice, lo mein, and crab rangoon waiting on TV trays in the living room when she shoulders through the doorway. Or, limps through; she’d done too much on the thigh machine again today, which she’s pretty sure Asshole Guy had noticed. Light from NCIS flickers over his face as he raises an eyebrow. A noodle is hanging out of his mouth.

“Don’t tell Steve,” she says. She plunks down next to him on the couch, pokes his thigh until he gives her more room.

He says, “That’d be embarrassing for you,” and she glares until he raises his hands in surrender. “I won’t, fine; just don’t kill me, okay?”

“Who am I gonna get to rent with me next year if I didn’t have you?” She opens the fried rice and quirks a smile and he bumps his shoulder against hers.

They’ve rented together for two years now after Natasha’s freshman year roommate gave her a photo album of her sleeping at the end of the first semester. She’d spent the majority of spring semester staying over at Clint’s room, which worked out nicely because Clint’s roommate Steve’s just about the nicest most stubborn guy she’s ever met, and he’d only asked them once if they were dating (they weren’t). Most other people have a look that says I don’t believe you when they say they’ve been friends as long as they’ve known each other, but Steve had just nodded and gone back to sketching his calculator.

“We should live with Steve next year,” she says, thinking; it’s October now, if they get a move on they should be able to get a nice place. She steals a bite of noodle from Clint’s container.

Clint pulls a face, but he holds the container closer to her. Nat offers the fried rice in return. “Nah, I’m good.”

She smiles. “To the rice or to Steve?”

He pretends to think about it, stroking an imaginary beard, and she leans into his side and waits. Onscreen Gibbs slaps Tony upside the head again.

“Both,” Clint says. She makes a face. “Kidding. Steve’s rooming with someone next year, they’ve really hit it off, so.” He tilts his head to the side like he’s deliberating and adds, “Or not kidding really, because that kid wheezes so much when he tries to sleep. Snores like you wouldn’t believe.”

“I was there, remember?” she says with a smile, checking the crab rangoon. “Do you want the last one or shall I?”

Clint waves it toward her and says, “What song today?”

She’s been keeping him updated on the gym since he refuses to go. He knows all about The Asshole and The Song Guy. He’s convinced that there’s a love story in the making between the three of them, but since she threatened him (half-jokingly) with a spatula, he’s been keeping that to himself.

“Circle of Life.”

Clint nods and shrugs appreciatively. “Good choice.”

She says, yawning, “Better than the week of Thrift Shop.”

“You love Thrift Shop.”

He starts playing with her hair and it’s so soothing she almost drifts off.

“I do,” she murmurs, yawning again—it feels really very nice—and curling closer. Clint unfolds the blanket along the top of the couch and pulls it over them. “That’s why it was so bad. He didn’t know all the words.”

Clint says something like “Neither do you” but she’s just about asleep now and doesn’t really hear him. Or at least, that’s what she’ll say if he mentions it in the morning.

New Text Message

1-347-867-5309: Hey Nat! Do you wanna study together Saturday?

Me: Who is this

1-347-867-5309: Steve

Me: Ohh right right

1-347-867-5309: You didn’t know it was me did you

Me: Of course I did

Me: I know everything

Steve: Sure

Steve: You’d think that

Steve: Since, y’know, we’re friends and all

Steve: You’d save my phone number

Me: Don’t be offended

Me: I’ve been friends with Clint for fifteen years and I only saved his number since coming to college

Steve: I guess that helps

Steve: Maybe

Steve: Not really. Anyway: study with me?

Me: Worried for the test?

Steve: A little

Me: Me too

Me: Where/what time?

Steve: My apartment? I’m off work at three, so four?

Me: Sounds good

Steve: See ya then

Asshole Guy isn’t there today. Today she’s got her machine again and the world is at peace once more.

To be fair, it’s Tuesday. She never knew for sure, but she strongly suspects Asshole Guy only works out Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, like her. But this week Fury has her working the night shift on the line, so Friday’s workout’s cancelled.

She probably shouldn’t be in today. Her inner thigh is still sore. Steve would kill her if he knew she was straining it—he’s a history and art double major, but, since his dad’s a trainer, he knows a fair amount of things. Including the fact that pushing a hurt muscle is a terrible idea.

Natasha knows that too, though, and it’s starting to hurt more than it had, so she sighs and lets the weights down gently.

“You alright?”

She whips around, ready with a snappy retort for another dude bro trying to tell her how to do her workout. It dies in her throat. Two gyms, 40,000 people, seven days in a week, fourteen hours, an entirely different day, no less, and yet.

It doesn’t help that The Asshole has nice eyes this close. He clears his throat, and that’s when she realizes he’s wearing the khaki pants, blue shirt, and red backpack of a student trainer. He says, “It’s Tuesday. You don’t usually—I mean, this isn’t your max weight, and you usually lift longer than this.”

He’s been watching. Nat raises an eyebrow. “Observant.”

“Part of the job,” he says. His cologne is sharply out of place with all the sweat in the air.

“You work here.” She regrets it the moment she says it; his eyebrows shoot straight up, then settle again. Of course he works here. No one wears khakis to a gym.

Instead of answering he plucks at the hem of his shirt and moves on. “Are you okay? I have to ask when someone lets the weights down like that.”

“Didn’t realize they were that loud,” she says, to have something to say. “I’m fine. Little sore from yesterday.”

The Asshole sets his backpack down and kneels to sort through it, all the while asking about her hydration and whether or not she’s eaten and you know, you’ve gotta rest between these kinds of things, you can’t do the same exercises back to back and expect to be totally fine.

This rubs her wrong. “My work schedule’s different this week,” she snaps. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Sorry,” he says mildly. He hops back to his feet holding a blue crinkly something. Natasha glares up at him and he holds his hands up before saying, “I know you’re not an idiot, just needed to say that. Job description and all that.”

She’s got her arms folded, so when he tosses the crinkly something at her she’s completely unprepared. It bounces off her elbow before she catches it, somehow, on the rebound. It’s a Nutrigrain bar. She stares at him.

The Asshole rubs the back of his neck and says, “It’s blueberry, not too bad if you—I dunno, if you eat that sort of thing.”

“Thanks…?”

“Sam,” he says, starting to walk away.

She says “Natasha” and Sam smiles and walks out of the weight room.

There is a profound silence from the men’s locker room. Today the water stays warm for exactly eight minutes before threatening to crystalize on her skin.

When she’s dry, she squeezes her hair with the towel and dresses. The Nutrigrain wrapper’s in her pocket when Nat pulls on her jeans. She’s not sure, really, why she’s still holding onto it.

New Text Message

Steve: Hey were you working out today? At the Heli?

Me: Yeah, why?

Steve: No reason

Steve: (Steve sent an emoji)

Me: The halo’s not reassuring Rogers

Steve:

Early Wednesday morning she wakes up in Clint’s arms while Tangled plays for the third or fiftieth time. Squinting, she looks up to see that Clint’s awake and bedheaded as ever; she’s still not sure if he styles his hair like that intentionally or if, thanks to the innumerable naps he takes, that’s just the way his hair grows.

She pulls the blanket over her more and Clint starts. “Sorry,” he whispers, grabbing for the remote. He mutes the TV (Rapunzel and Flynn are just about to be trapped in the mine) and Nat closes her eyes again.

“S’okay,” she says sleepily. “How long’ve you been awake?”

“Somewhere around Flynn finding the tower.” He stretches carefully, rests his arm around her again. “You were saying something about Sam? In your sleep.”

“Mmm. No.”

“I think so. Fell asleep with my hearing aids in, so.”

“Your hair’s stupid” is all she says. He lightly pulls on one of her curls, and they drift off again.

Steve has to poke her six times to stay awake in lecture around noon. She’s lucky to have him there; Clint would’ve let her sleep and drawn mustaches on her with Sharpie. It’s especially important to be awake today because they’re reviewing for the exam, and she’s got a 93% right now and this test could solidify or jeopardize that A.

That doesn’t mean she’s not leaning on Steve right now. She’s lucky she’s on her left because she’s right handed, and even though he is as well he’s not the type to complain when he’s helping someone. Plus his right arm is ever-so-slightly more muscular than his left, so it’s somewhat more comfortable to lean against.

He’s really bulked up in the last two years; freshman year Nat used to be able to fit his wrist between her forefinger and thumb. Not so much now. He has a Russian pen pal according to Clint—kept in touch since they were five apparently—and they’ve been FaceTiming and working out together. She and Clint aren’t really sure what exercises they’ve been doing—or how you can work out with someone over FaceTime—but it’s working for Steve at least; they’ve doubled their efforts to get him on their hockey team.

Steve pokes her again as Professor Stark rambles on about medical experimentation during World War II.

“I’m awake,” she says. Their redheaded neighbor, Pepper, hushes them, and Nat sticks her tongue out at her. Quieter: “I’m awake.”

“I know,” Steve says, “you snore.”

“Hey!”

“Shh!”

Steve holds up a hand to stop either of them from saying anything. He whispers, “Did you meet Sam? At the Heli?”

Natasha stares at him. “How’d you know that?” Their prof changes the slide and she hurriedly copies down the information.

“He told me,” Steve says. “Ran into a redhead on the weights, said it wasn’t abnormal but for the fact that you don’t work out Tuesdays.”

“I don’t, it’s be—”

“Because of work, yeah.”

Nat worries her bottom lip. “You know him.”

“From high school,” Steve says. He nudges her and winks when she glances up. “He’s a good guy.”

She elbows him back, but she’s blushing a little. “You can’t be too sure. He wears cologne to the gym.”

Steve throws his head back and laughs so loudly that Stark stumbles over his lecture and stares, aghast.

“Excuse me, in the back; do you find this subject funny?”

Steve’s really doing an admirable job of biting back his laugh, she can almost see it straining to chime out. He hangs his head in the model of a subdued and solemn student. “Of course not, Professor.”

Stark narrows his eyes and resumes his lecture, casting dark looks at them from time to time. Steve whispers, “Cologne? Really?” and Natasha barely stops herself from laughing too.

Clint leans in her doorway while she ties her sneakers. “C’mon, Tasha.”

“I go to the gym on Wednesdays,” she says, sighing a little when she stands; her inner thigh muscles still hurt from yesterday.

What Natasha means is, Sam goes to the gym on Wednesday. She’s been thinking about him almost all day. She got on the wrong bus this morning because she was trying to remember the shade of his eyes. She’s even—it hurts to admit this, even to herself—she’s even bought him a blueberry Nutrigrain bar.

Clint knows her well enough and is, in general, smart enough to hear what she isn’t saying. “I get that, believe me I do, but. You’ve gotta rest up. You can go back to kicking butt and showing off next week if you want, or Saturday, but you’ve gotta rest.”

If she had enough momentum, she’d be ducking under his arm and in the hallway and on her way. Clint catches her stare and shifts into a more solid stance, the one that makes him look intimidating in his hockey gear but right now makes him look bedheaded and earnest and like her best friend.

Nat says, “I don’t really wanna go, but I do,” and Clint smiles with half of his mouth.

He looks up and runs a hand along the doorframe like it’s the most fascinating thing, still smiling like it’s just for her. “Wanna get out?”

“Where?”

“Dunno,” he says, and shrugs.

Their university does movies for free at the Union, so that’s where they go. Every Wednesday through Saturday at 9 PM whoever’s in charge of the videos cycles through blockbusters that came out earlier in the year, usually on a few month’s delay. It’s always very energetic; the room seats 150 people, give or take, and that many college kids in a room tend to laugh and talk to the screen now and then in very audible whispers.

It’s Moana tonight. Natasha buys the popcorn and Clint does the butter and salt in an easy routine that they’ve established over the last decade and a half, one born from Natasha having a job and but sense of what to do with butter and Clint not having a job but the amazing ability, somehow, to properly flavor even the vaguely cardboard-y popcorn served outside the theatre.

She’s checking his work—flawless, as always; he can’t seem to miss the mark—when he says, “Oh, hey Steve.”

Clint takes the popcorn back, which is good because she almost drops it. Steve smirks at her but she barely sees him; Sam’s leather jacket is filling up her field of view.

“Hey Clint, Nat,” Steve says. “Nat, I think you know Sam?” Nat glares at him and he shrugs in an I’m sorry kind of way, which would’ve been fine if his eyes weren’t plainly amused.

Sam says, “We’ve met. How’re your thighs?”

Clint makes a noise that sounds like he’s got popcorn stuck in his throat at that. “Her thighs?” Steve doubles over, laughing a little breathlessly.

“Fine,” Nat says, ignoring Clint and Steve, but it’s okay because she and Sam have both gone red now. “Just. Taking a day off. Rest day.”

“Good, good,” Sam says. He’s wearing what Natasha thinks is his my best friend is an idiot expression; she recognizes it because she makes the same face about Clint.

She looks at them—they’re not paying attention anymore, Clint’s showing Steve something on his phone—and then back at Sam and says, halfway between annoyed and flustered, “Wanna find a seat?”

And he says, “Absolutely,” and they sit next to each other and, in the dark, she imagines that this is, maybe, a date. A daydream ruined when Clint and Steve stumble over them to get to their own seats and spill Steve’s drink all over the floor, flooding over the tops of their shoes and making the floor obnoxiously sticky when they shift their feet.

New Text Message

Steve: yknow tht Sam liks you

Me: Are you drunk?

Steve: cant get drunk rmmber

Steve: scince

Me: That’s not how science works

Me: Are you okay? Do we need to come get you?

Steve: nahhhhh

Steve: mfine. got Sam

(Steve added Clintyyy to the chat.)

Steve: CLINT tell her

Clintyyy: What’s with the caps man?

Steve: phone bein weird

Steve: does that

Me: Are you sure you’re fine?

Steve: i am not Sam he’s in lov

Steve: *live

Steve: *lpbe

Clintyyy: We got you

Steve: you knoe what I mean

Me: He’s drunk

Steve: mnot

Me: Like Budapest all over again

Clintyyy: Ah the memories

Natasha has twelve missed calls from Steve when she wakes up. She checks through them, straining to separate the synth in the background from Steve’s slurred speech, and makes a mental note to make Steve the DD from now on. Boy can’t handle his alcohol very well.

She also has a series of quick texts from a number she doesn’t recognize, and she smiles when she sees them: Got him home safe, don’t worry. Got your number from his phone. Don’t forget to hydrate.

Clint walks with her to the bus stop, very blatantly reading over her shoulder. She lets him. “‘Don’t forget to hydrate’?” he says, one eyebrow raised.

Nat just shrugs and shows her ID to the busdriver. Clint follows behind her. He wants to ask something, she can tell, so she waits and leans the back of her head against the window. He pokes a hole in the knee of her jeans.

The bus slows to a stop by the main lawn five minutes later and they get up, sling backpacks over tired shoulders. Nat’s class is a little bit of a walk from the stop but Clint’s is in one of the old buildings ringing the lawn, so they hug and go on their way.

But he’s running after her a beat later, and he asks, winded (he should, she thinks, probably come with her to the gym), “You like him?”

“Maybe,” she tells him.

Clint studies her with the certainty and ease that comes from knowing someone for awhile. “You do,” he says, like he’s found something worth finding.

She says, “Yeah,” and they smile at each other.

New Text Message

Clintyyy: Still up for it?

Steve: Yessss

Me: Why not

Loud, overly flirtatious and forward drunk frat guys. That’s why not.

Thirsty Thursday is always a little over-the-top, but somehow, today, it’s one hundred percent worse; they’ve walked the entirety of College Ave. looking for a bar that wasn’t overflowing but still quality. There are approximately seven different bars within feasible walking distance—that is, within the distance that a still somewhat hungover Steve, an exercise-loath Clint, and a Natasha in relatively high heels would be willing to walk to. Seven bars for 40,000 students, maybe only half of whom can (legally) drink, maybe only half of that half who don’t have classes Fridays and would be out around this time. And, apparently, all of those students are tipsy frat guys.

They don’t say anything to her, per se, never do, but they’d said things to each other about her when she and Steve and Clint walk by, and once was enough for her to dislike them on principle.

The three of them had planned for eight. Eight was a dumb idea, evidently, because the bars they would have no trouble getting into Monday through Wednesday at eight o’clock are filled with lines a block long.

“Should we just call it?” Clint asks in frustration. They’re at the sixth bar on the list.

Nat shakes her head. “Let’s try the next one. We’re out, we’re cute, we may as well. And I really have to pee.”

“Well said,” Steve says.

The seventh bar is called The Triskelion for reasons Natasha hadn’t cared to ask about. The logo is the same curving lines as her boss’ tattoo, and Fury never struck her as the type of person to welcome questions about it, so she’d shelved her curiosity.

It’s a little, low lit dingy place with graffitied walls and peeling paint. But the bar is clean and so are the tables, and there aren’t as many frat guys here—there’s a few other people at the bar and one or two couples who seem to be on dates, but no Greek letters—, so Nat thinks it’s perfect.

“What can I get you all?” the bartender asks.

Natasha looks and Clint and says, “Surprise me,” and heads off to find the bathroom.

“I got you,” Clint calls. She raises a hand to say she heard.

It’s surprisingly clean, the bathroom. It’s unisex, so there are urinals and stalls, but there isn’t as much pee everywhere as she’d expected for Thirsty Thursday. She’s washing her hands when the door slams open.

“—right back,” someone says, talking to someone outside, and then: “Shit fuck.”

Nat glances to the door and immediately wishes she was back at the bar. “Hey, Sam.”

He smiles weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. “How you doing?”

“Fine. You alright?”

“You, uh. Heard that, then?” Sam says flatly. She nods, waits. He sighs. “It’s my date.”

Now she really wishes she was back at the bar. The sentence bounces around her head a moment before settling uncomfortably on her stomach.

She says, “Sorry,” and pinches off bits of her paper towel.

“Yeah. Don’t know what I was expecting, it’s just,” he says, and now he throws up his hands, “everything’s gone wrong, she told me that I was ‘just the sweetest thing’ and ‘so soft’ and that I remind her of her dead chocolate lab, and she didn’t answer if I asked if it was because I’m black. I mean, I was kidding, but not now, clearly.”

“She sounds interesting,” Nat says carefully. “I’m sorry.”

“‘Interesting’ is a little milder than I’m thinking,” he says. “It’s my fault really, it’s Tinder and I was gonna call it off, but she sounded so sad in the messages.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

Sam looks around the bathroom and says sheepishly, “I was going to pop open the window, actually. But there isn’t one. So.”

“I’m sorry,” Nat says. On an impulse she takes his hand and squeezes it. “You can do this. It only has to be a one-time thing.”

He squeezes her hand back. “I’ll try.”

New Text Message

Me: Abort

Nutrigrain Bar: What happened? Are you okay?

Me: Frat guy at the bar hitting on me

Me: buying me a drink npw

Me: Steve and Clint in bathroom

Nutrigrain Bar: One sec

“Hold on, I gotta tell Clint and Steve, they worry,” Nat says a little breathlessly, leaning against the brick wall of the library. Sam starts to back away but she catches his jacket sleeve as a sort of tether. She sends her text one-handed and pulls him closer, and the second kiss is as nice as the first, and the third is better.

New Text Message

Nutrigrain Bar: I had a very, very nice time last night

Me: Me too

Me: It’d be a shame if

Me: You know

Nutrigrain Bar: If it happened again?

Me: Exactly

Nutrigrain Bar: Well

Nutrigrain Bar: We’ve always got out standing date at the gym

Me: That’s a good start

Nutrigrain Bar: Well hopefully we’ll have a good middle too

New Text Message

Stevie: Told ya

Me: I know

Stevie: For the record

Me: I knowwww

Stevie: ;)

Me: Shut up

“Details,” Clint says, his arm a dead weight around her shoulder; they’re both still feeling last night.

The NCIS opening credits play, but they’ve got the sound off. This is one of Clint’s favorite things to do, sit around and read the lips of the actors on TV shows. Nat’s favorite part is when he gets bored of it and starts making up his own lines.

She tucks her knees close to her chest and leans closer to Clint. He mumbles Gibbs’ line, “Grab your gear,” and she says, “Doesn’t count.”

“Does so.”

“He says it,” and here she yawns, “every episode.”

Clint tugs on her sleeve. “It counts. It’s like the free space in Bingo.”

“Gonna pretend you didn’t say that, Barton.”

“Gonna pretend you aren’t dodging the question, Romanova.”

“You didn’t,” she says, yawning again, “ask me anything.”

“Don’t be a McGoofus, McGee” is what Clint says next. Then: “Fine. Details?”

Remembering it gives her goosebumps. She smiles. “About?”

Clint groans and buries his face in a cushion while she laughs harder than she would normally. His voice is muffled as he says, “The kiss, Tasha, the kissing, the Frenching, snogging, whatever.”

“You mean like, how was it?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Tongue?”

“Maybe.”

New Text Message

Steviesteviestevie: Okay I’m presentable now

Steviesteviestevie: Are you almost here?

Me: Just got off the bus

Me: Be there in 5

Steve flings the door open wide and drapes himself against it, saying, “Welcome to my humble abode.”

He’s ridiculous. “You’re always so dramatic,” Nat says, laughing in spite of herself. She crosses the threshold and Steve closes the door behind her.

She’s never been in Steve’s apartment before. It’s about what she would’ve expected for a student on a college budget: small living room with a small TV and bookcase, small kitchen, small bathroom with a corner of the mirror missing. A hallway leads off the living room and has three doors, one being the bathroom, one Steve’s room, and then a closet, maybe.

He spread out cool ranch Doritos and Oreos and lemonade on the counter. After handing her a (paper) plate, Steve piles huge handfuls of the Doritos onto his own plate and sits.

The Doritos are now half empty. “You should’ve just taken the bag,” Nat comments. She deliberates for a second and then just takes the Oreo tray to the table.

“There’s time,” Steve says. “We’ve got a lot of studying to do.”

Nat plunks her notes and books onto the table. “That we do.”

Two hours later, Natasha hits the wall.

Thirty minutes after that, Clint texts her about an NHL game, so she commandeers Steve’s TV and watches that. Steve abandons his homework and joins her on the couch and they yell at a few missed calls, and she finally gets him to agree to join her and Clint’s team (thereby allowing her to win a twenty dollar bet).

Around nine, a Mythbusters marathon starts. Natasha and Steve have a competition to see who can stack and eat the most Oreo filling. Steve wins, but only because his mouth his bigger.

At ten Steve’s Russian pen pal FaceTimes him, and, after exchanging hellos in Russian, Steve introduces him to Nat. Steve’s pen pal has long hair and the unlikely name of ‘Bucky’ and is surprised when Natasha takes to him exclusively in Russian.

Sometime after that Natasha’s alone on the couch, and while the Mythbusters team blows stuff up onscreen, she falls asleep.

She hears it and holds a pillow over her head in sheer stubborn refusal to be awake. When she moves, her arm threatens to fall off; sleeping on the couch never really works out for her unless she sleeps on someone.

The lights are off in the apartment. Careful to keep her ears covered, she peeks at the TV and sees that someone turned it off. The singing’s coming from the kitchen, then. If she focuses extremely hard she can just make out the pitch on the voice, and from what she knows from several painful karaoke nights, Steve’s voice isn’t this nice to listen to. Even if it’s waking her up at—she checks the clock on the bookcase—four in the morning. She blearily considers the possibility that Steve’s being robbed.

Whoever’s singing (a musical burglar?) is getting into it. Their words filter through the pillow now: “Just remember, you’re the one thing I can’t get enough of”.

That’s it. She throws the pillow across the room and storms into the kitchen.

“What the hell are you—” That’s when she sees Sam.

He stops midword in surprise. “Nat?” he says, uncertain. “Why’re you here?”

She crosses her arms. “Why’re you here?”

“I asked first,” he says, yawning.

“Studying.”

He says, “Sleeping.”

This more than anything annoys her. “Trying to,” she says pointedly. “Was sleeping.”

It seems to take him a moment to put together what she’s saying. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Your turn.”

“I live here?” He raps his knuckles on the back of a chair.

She’s not awake enough for this. “Here?”

“Steve and I are roommates,” Sam says.

“I thought—” she yawns “—thought he lived alone.”

Sam says, in a tone too bright for this time of morning, “Nope.”

“Why Dirty Dancing in the kitchen? Can’t you practice in, I don’t know, the car? The shower?”

Sam looks at her oddly. “Yeah,” he says. “I do,” and this time it’s Nat who takes a moment to understand what he’s saying.

And then she puts it together. “The gym.”

He nods, smiling slightly. “Thought you knew.”

“No,” she says, rubbing her eyes. It’s too early for this.

“Shame.” He looks very determinedly at the ceiling. “I was trying to woo you.”

She laughs. “Through the shower.”

“Wasn’t sure what else to do,” Sam says, shrugging. But he’s smiling, and she thinks that maybe she’s found something worth finding.

“You’re an idiot,” Nat says.

He says, hopeful, “That mean it worked?”

“Maybe,” she says.

New Text Message

Me: Made it back fine, thanks for asking

Nutrigrain Bar: Good :)

Me: And it worked

Me: How’s Wednesday?

#thanks for the ask Mercedes :) I hope it's okay #samnat #samnat fanfiction #sam x natasha #natasha x sam #otp: on love's light wings #asks #i need to go to bed #long post #I CAN'T BELIEVE I MISSPELLED CLINT'S NAME #I AM DISTRAUGHT #clint barton #steve rogers

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adriennescomingbacktolife · 4 years

Text

(VII)

“Those shades aren’t fooling anyone.” Hesitantly, Angie Straussler’s daughter removed the knockoff Ray-Ban Jackie Ooh sunglasses. Angie reached across the small round table and touched Adrienne’s cheek, remarking softly, “Goddamn it, Ade.” Another extended stay in Baltimore had ended much the same as any of the previous trips: being picked up by her mother. She had managed to delay the judgment on her sudden decision to just leave without notice for the night. She was tired and as soon as she entered her apartment, Adrienne collapsed on the couch. But it was only inevitable that she would be sitting across from her mother at a Starbucks just a few blocks away. Angie was insistent that they talk. “I’m okay, mom.” She mumbled, embarrassed by her exasperation. Adrienne knew that her mom was reacting to the shiner she had acquired from the final blows that Hudson gave her prior to capturing the victory for her team. We Are Relentless had been a bewildering evening. Sure, she had won. That’s what a lot of folks will talk about. Not only that, it was Adrienne’s third win in a row but she wasn’t counting. She more so relished in the special moment that transpired even with something as innocuous as a temporary tattoo. And then that meeting with Zane King. Not sure what to think about that. Just what had he gone through? “Adrienne.” Taking a sip of her hot chocolate, Adrienne concluded that it was still too hot even with the abundant amount of whipped cream lurking beneath the lid. Setting it down on a napkin, she then looked in her mother’s eyes. With a little more bass in her voice, she reaffirmed her status. “Really, I’m okay.” Angie furrowed her brow, as well as setting her jaw. Adrienne could tell her mother was a little agitated with her and this had been building up for quite a while. Underneath the table, she twisted the gold wedding band around her finger. The ambience of the coffee shop settled in: the folksy music, quiet murmur of other conversations, and the hustle and bustle of the employees. Adrienne flinched a little as her mother’s gaze as she finally broke the silence, “I’m not worried about what’s going on. I still don’t like it but you seem to be getting along well … up there.” “Okay, then what?” “Your life is here.” Mrs. Straussler’s hand shot across the table, her long red nails digging into the soft flesh of Adrienne’s forearm. Her smile framed by loud crimson lipstick, a grotesque representation of her true expressions, as her voice rumbled throughout the shop, “And you’re never leaving!” The monitor overhead in the abandoned control room cut off. Adrienne Levi sighed before pressing the red transmit button, “That’s not what happened.” “I thought it was funny.” “It wasn’t.” She paused, keeping the button held. It wasn’t only not funny, Adrienne was more than a little annoyed at this situation. Trying her best to hide her aggravation, she continued, “I’ve been here for days and all you’ve been doing is messing with me.” The voice on the other side responds with a mousy meek voice, barely stifling their giggles, “Like when I made you think you were talking to yourself?” Adrienne pushed the microphone away in disgust. To hell with this, she thought with a flash of anger. “Or honestly, this whole preposterous set up.” The voice wasn’t coming from the console. And it wasn’t an approximation of her voice anymore. It was a deep rumbling bellow and this time, it was coming from behind her. “Awful rude of you to disturb my rest.” Turning slowly, she watched as a shadowy form rose from its previously seated position. “Why’d you come out here, girl? Looking for something?” Cackling, the form stepped into the trembling ray of light from Adrienne’s flashlight. Bones creaked as the corpse stumbled forward, it’s jaw jacking, “There ain’t nothing ‘cept the reruns of your life here.” “But that isn’t what happened!” “I don’t give a mutant rat’s ass. Might as well been. Look at you…” The monitor flickered to life, showing Adrienne at her worst in rapid succession. A blustering, sobbing mess. “Fuckin’ crybaby.” Surprisingly not frightened by a reanimated skeleton, Adrienne balled up her fists. “Dropping your baggage on whoever will listen to the pretty sad girl. Dopes, all of them.” Upon reflection, she’d had these deep emotional moments with so many people lately. Some had made her feel better. Some not so much. But, if she was really just making them feel worse, that’d make her a pretty bad person. “Cept that one weird guy. Fuck, they’re all weird. You know who I mean, card boy. Tells you to start living for yourself. Have one measly selfish bone in your body and all you can do is stammer on about yer Mommy. I don’t what’s more pathetic: you going around living this lie or this silly quest you’re on.” After reaching behind his back, the skeleton in the tattered green jacket tossed something at Adrienne. The sword clattered at her feet. “There you go. What you were looking for, right? This rusted piece of shit is make believe, girl. Just like all of this.” Adrienne didn’t want to admit that she was wrong. How worthless her little daydreams had become. She huffed in response, “Just … why?” Stepping forward with heavy bone rattling thuds, the creature’s voice transformed into one of Danny’s favorite artists. One of her least favorites as she’d heard every one of their albums multiple times over the years on the plethora of fruitless road trips with Danny. The backing track for Coma echoed throughout the small room as the thing imitated Axl Rose, “You live your life like it's a coma, won't you tell me why we'd wanna? With all the reasons you give... it's, it's kinda hard to believe.” Realizing that this had all been a farce, she backed away to the door. The accusing monster closed in, bones splintering from so much use in a decayed state. “But who am I to tell you that I've seen any reason why you should stay? Maybe we'd be better off without you, anyway…” Before it could continue, Adrienne pulled open the steel door and went through the opening. Horrified, she suddenly realized she was falling ... Adrienne had compiled as much content about Eli Goode as she could and had compiled it into a playlist. His ups and downs, his tendencies to carelessly traipse into some very ugly emotions, and most undoubtedly his astounding tenancy as a competitor. She reclined on the couch, nursing a pint of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream as the playlist served as background to her own wandering thoughts. It was as if he was trying his best to be a kind person but it seemed to be a poor substitution to what he truly was. Adrienne didn’t want to judge him for this, these were merely just observations. After all, she knew her own flaws. Knew that no matter what she said out loud, that she lacked the convictions to follow through. The other day with her mother had been a tough pill to swallow. But Angie was right. Here goes Adrienne Levi, gallivanting off to her perfect wonderful world without a care. Neglecting her responsibilities back home. It was easy to see that everyone was against her but that just wasn’t the case. “Adrienne,” her mother repeated, putting a hand on her daughter’s forearm, squeezing gently, “Your life is here.” She stonewalled her inclination to tear up. Adrienne’s voice quivered as she replied, “I don’t want to be here anymore.” “You don’t think I know that?” Leaning in, Angie spoke just for her daughter, “I’ve tried to get you out of that apartment for over a year now. I’ve tried everything, Ade. You tell me all of these things but here you are, still in Danny’s grasp. Surrounded by his life. By his death. You’re a grown woman, so that’s why I humor your excursions. It’s only natural. It’s a world you’ve never been in and I’m so happy for you.” Angie paused, stirring in a packet of cream into her cup of coffee. “You’re going about it the wrong way. Burning through your money just to hang out with your new friends. You don’t know how amazing that is even to say. Your new friends, Adrienne. But you spent nearly three grand for a hotel room alone-- ” Adrienne’s mother cut herself off. She knew when her point was made. Her daughter’s head was down, eyes averted. “It’s not all your fault. But he’s dead. And here you are, in the third decade of your life and you don’t know how to balance a checkbook. Or how to drive.” “Mom.” “I’m not trying to embarrass you, Ade. But fantasy time is over. You want to leave here? You want to spread your wings? Well, first thing’s first, you’ve gotta leave Danny Levi behind.” “Hi, Eli.” Adrienne Levi came into focus. Behold the power of a $400 digital camera. One that Adrienne was still having trouble operating. Her first take, she was upside down. The second time, she had been talking for about five minutes before she realized she never charged the battery. Then after that, she started filming in her living room and realized that the poor lighting made it seem like she was telling a ghost story at the campfire. The unintentional Dutch angle worked for Mitch Heart surely but Adrienne just came off as Minnie Mouse trying to be tough and intimidating. So after taking a deep breath, many deep breaths actually, Adrienne set up somewhere a little festive. She hadn’t been to the Rumba Island Bar & Grill since quitting her previous job. It had been her go-to watering hole after a long shift of getting screamed at. Charlie the bartender didn’t even remember her - which to be honest was a relief. Regardless, she settled for the patio outside. Under an umbrella, Ade was seated at a small round metal table. She wore a shirt that had a picture of purple oranges with the label Purples. She waved at Eli as she sipped at a ridiculously huge strawberry Daiquiri from a neon purple twisty looped straw. “Don’t tell anyone but I guess I’m technically drinking on the job. I wanted to formally introduce myself to you. I’m Adrienne. Started here about three months ago. I don’t expect you to know much about me. You are after all a big-time star.” Adrienne took a timely drink before continuing. “And I’ve done okay for myself. My friends would point out that I’m on a little winning streak but I’m not sure that matters. I guess it's cool. It took just as long for me to end up with a televised entrance. You know, someone asking me - how do you want to come out? I imagine that’s small potatoes to someone like you.” She didn't do this to be biting or sarcastic. Watching Eli Goode over the last few days had revealed some worrying trends. “I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot. Look at your resume, Eli. Rookie of the year. Captured nearly every single championship this place has to offer. Part of a super group led by undeniable legend Jack Michaels. And you seem like a real sweet guy. My heart goes out to you. Over the last few months, you've made a lot of promises to help Kyra Johnson. All while on your new crusade to capture yet another championship. So I have to imagine that it is disconcerting that you once more have to embark on a new challenge without conquering the last. Late last year, you said 2020 would be all about you. I think it would be safe to assume that it hasn’t been. I’m not here to talk about your personal life as much as it is on display lately. But this Paragon? I’d say that’s been dissolved. And since your tag team title reign ended, you’ve been chasing that championship glory you so desire - yet to no avail.” Raising her pointer finger as if to finally put an exclamation on this little piece of exposition, she remarked, “That’s not to say it won’t happen again. It just seems like that this is the only thing that really defines you. Even what was supposed to be your most endearing moment, your only way to heal Kyra was for you to become champion.” Adrienne stopped. She understood there was possibly more to it but she wasn’t here to discuss Eli Goode’s fragile masculinity. “Now to be fair, I’ve never been the champion of anything. Closest I’ve been is 3rd place in my middle school’s spelling bee. So maybe I just don’t get it. I just know what I’ve seen out of you. Like for one, it seems like you’ve adopted this underdog status. What kind of underdog goes and tells Zephyr Quinn of all people that she doesn’t deserve to win because your turn at being UltraViolent champion was too short? As if it was a toy that belonged to you. And also, what kind of aspiring champion talks about a title and says that it means nothing?” Nathaniel Grant had been an easy target, sure. But to disparage a champion just because the perceived prestige of the championship he held wasn’t to Eli’s standard really bothered Adrienne. “I get why you say these things. I truly do. You speak with this undercurrent of arrogance because that’s what Jack Michaels did. You’ve spent your entire career in Carnage Wrestling trying to live up to his image. Trying your best to become the next Jack instead of the first Eli Goode.” Stirring her drink a bit, she let that settle in. One week, Eli spoke like he was the creme of the crop. The next, he was screaming about missed opportunities. Picking up that thread, she smiled as she spoke, “In nearly every encounter you’ve gone on about, you’ve decided that you’re the arbiter of one’s value to this company. Makes me wonder how you size me up. I’m sure we’ll share the normal niceties. Cuz here’s what I know. You represent a huge opportunity to me.” With her confidence swelling, she felt a little braver in her words - or maybe it was a good buzz, she wasn’t sure. This certainly wasn’t her second drink of the day. “I’ve heard my peers. They expect greatness from me. I don’t know about that. I’ve never been great at anything. I only asked that if you can hear the sound of my voice, listen to me just for a moment. If you’ve been standing in the shadows for a long time, step out with me. And if you believe in me - even just a little bit, then join me.” With that invitation extended, she shifted one last time to Eli Goode. “Eli, you’ve always proclaimed yourself to be the future of this business but Paragon is long past. I’m not here to make such grand claims. But I’m not going to be your foothold back to what makes you whole. The nature of the business is … sometimes unfair. Somebody has to lose, and I’d rather it be you. I’m here to pass you by and establish that Adrienne Levi is just as Goode as any of you.” Opening her eyes, she was treated with a close up view of an empty Coors Light can half hidden in the weeds. Her body was racked with pain as if she fell out of the sky. Pushing up from the dirt, she tried to get a sense of her bearings. Still in her winter clothing, she’d quickly become aware of the sweltering heat of a summer afternoon in Florida. Brushing her hair out of her face, she looked around. Deposited on the side of I-75 but there was no traffic buzzing past her. The world seemed empty, even frozen in place. Looking forward, she saw the sign. Literally, a sign. A green one affixed to steel rails planted into the ground that said in white letters, “Thank you for visiting Florida!”

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bentchcreates · 6 years

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Second Wave Summer by Six De Los Reyes, Tara Frejas, Jay E. Tria (Blog Tour)

All roads lead back to beachside music festival Summer Crush for another weekend of high waves, rock & roll, and the promise of summer romance.

On any given day, Michael Brian doesn’t need to do much to hit the right notes with a girl, but there’s something about this day—and something about this girl—that’s got him out of tune. (A Taste of Summer, Six delos Reyes)

Indie filmmaker Datu puts on his dusty event videographer hat for Summer Crush. But memories of a love he let slip away resurface from every corner of this surf town. Now what he thought would be an easy job just isn't so easy anymore. (Rushes, Tara Frejas)

Corporate-highflyer-on-vacation Ringo has a question to which cookie bar boss woman Kris has the answer, if only they’d stop getting in each other’s way. (Ask Me Nicely, Jay E. Tria)

Buy Links:

Amazon (ebook): bit.ly/secondwavesummer Paperback (PH only): tarafrejas.com/orderform | http://www.jayetria.com/print-books-order-form/

Add the book on Goodreads

Excerpts:

A Taste of Summer Six de los Reyes

“Just so we’re on the same page. There’s no boyfriend, is there?” he asked when she returned. As much as he wanted to seem disinterested, even he could tell he was focusing too intently on the calluses on his fingertips. He raised his eyes, blinked away the memories, and grinned.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, there is no boyfriend currently in the picture?”

She raised a brow. “No.”

“Because I’d rather not be a party to…whatever. Also, I reserve the right to defend myself.”

“A party to…whatever. That happened before?”

“Actively in avoidance of.”

He smiled at her, the kind that said I’m trying to make this better and less awkward and I hope I’m not upsetting you. But she smiled at him too. As if it were he who inspired worry. She was worried about him. About something he’d said.

“It wouldn’t do to make premature conclusions.” That wasn’t an answer.

“I don’t conclude prematurely.”

“I should hope not.”

He was just tripping over his feet and making a fool of himself, wasn’t he?

“But no. No man in my life,” she said, stepping closer, so close a cloud of her scent fell over him. She smelled sweet. A familiar and disconcerting scent he couldn’t place. She anchored her hands on his sides. “Holy latissimus dorsi.”

“What?”

She blinked. “What?”

Rushes Tara Frejas

“I KNEW IT WAS YOU.”

Datu’s knitted brows strained when he looked up from his phone. “Oh. Hey.”

“You’re wearing that famous frown again,” Audrey, his brother’s girlfriend, pointed out. The strapless yellow dress she wore was bright and sunny, matching her smile. The sight gave him no other choice but to turn his frown upside down.

“Didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Didn’t know you’d be here!” she exclaimed, her eyes fixed on his laptop. “And in true Datu Alvez fashion, too.”

“Work is what I’m here for.”

“Figures. You looked pretty intense just now.”

“Oh. I did?” he asked and threw his phone a quick glance before putting it away. “Well, you know me—I take my work seriously.”

That was a lie. Technically, he hadn’t really been working for the last ten minutes. Instead, he was having some sort of crisis upon realizing he had somehow butt-texted Kalila. It was that “do you wanna hang out” message, plus a string of random characters one could have only managed while drunk-texting.

That he had sent that message before he was ready was one thing, but it had been over an hour, and the lack of response made him antsy. He had to remind himself that she didn’t owe him a reply, but he wished she would.

He’d still take “no” over no reply at all.

“I know. I’ll be on my way then…” Audrey started to step away.

“Wait, aren’t you here with Pio?” Datu gathered his equipment, placed them neatly on his side of the wooden table, and motioned for Audrey to have a seat. She obliged.

“Pio’s still in Pampanga for a mall show.” Audrey took a small sip of what looked like sangria and turned her attention to the tabletop menu.

“Oh, yeah. For that movie.”

Her gold and red tassel earrings swung back and forth when she nodded. Nothing in her facial expression hinted at any sort of displeasure over Pio’s absence, and Datu wondered if she was okay with this set-up, or…

“Yes, Datu?”

He blinked. “What?”

“You look like you wanna ask me something.”

“Just wondering if you two are on vacation.”

Audrey nodded. “Until Monday.”

“Nice. And Pio being late to the party isn’t gonna be a problem, is it?”

“Nah, don’t worry. Besides, we have this running bet over who arrives at our dates first, and I’m two for three.” Audrey took sip of her drink, and a dimple appeared on her left cheek when she smirked.

A running bet. Huh. Where was that nifty idea when I needed it? He once had been the “absentee boyfriend” who got intoxicated by all his dreamchasing and forgot to hold on to the one dream that kept him grounded. Who are you kidding, Datu? Bet or not, it never would have worked out because you never showed up.

Ask Me Nicely Jay E. Tria

April 14, Saturday Kris

Ringo de Dios had a question to ask.

He always did. This wasn’t new. Ringo had a brain that ran faster than any driving I’d done in the traffic-less streets of Makati past midnight, egged on by an ‘80s rock anthem and one too many bottles of beer. His brain wasn’t reckless like that though (and neither was my driving since I crossed into my 30s, might I add). His brain operated on functioning levers and blueprints and workplans. It was a sound, beautiful, overworking mind. I loved it.

I was in love with this man and his beautiful, overworking mind.

“A backstage what to meet who again?” was the question he asked now.

It wasn’t at all what I’d been dodging. This question was cute, and I was expecting it. I’d been fielding quite a few like it in the past five plus months we’ve been together. It was one of my favorite things to do.

“A backstage pass,” I said, brushing the stubble on his chin with my knuckles. “To meet Trainman.”

I was trying to be cool when I said it, which was pointless. Ringo was there to witness me squeal like a pig on death row when I won the tickets off a radio show contest last month.

So oldschool, right? Snatching tickets from a radio show gimmick thanks to an hour of dialing-redialing-hanging-on-to-a-phone-line-with-a-whispered-prayer and a deep well of random trivia about a favorite band. But tried-and-true was so for reasons. And often they rewarded you.

Like now. Exhibit A. Two free tickets to Summer Crush music festival, inclusive of backstage passes to meet Trainman, the headlining band. The reason why now, at 2 a.m. on aSaturday, Ringo and I were out of bed and on our way to surf town La Union, where there was sand, music, bagnet, and bronzed abs a-plenty.

I died a little inside when I won, I swear.

“Ah, that band with the surly-looking guitarist,” Ringo said, clapping his hands once for effect, dark eyes rounding. “The guy whose lips curl and eyebrows meet when he sings the chorus like it makes him angry. Why does he need to do that, I wonder?”

“Because he is Kim, the band leader, and he is sexy and he knows it.” I slapped Ringo’s arm as I said it, which was cue for laughter. His and mine.

Of course Ringo knew about Trainman. On our first date, I learned that despite being 25, a.k.a. seven years younger than me, the guy knew nothing about music enjoyed by most kids, erm, people his age. He knew virtually nothing about music, despite having a cool mother who named him after the most chill Beatle. So I made sure to commence his indie rock-and-roll education ASAP. He had aced it, of course, as he was programmed to do.

An offshoot of this though was that teasing me about my rockstar crush was now one of his hobbies.

“Who’s sexy?” Ringo had stopped laughing. The spark remained in his eyes but it hinted at danger now. My heart jumped inside my chest and my lips parted, first to give him a smile, next to accept his kiss.

Ringo’s kiss was slow and deliberate. Mouth weighing against my mouth, claiming, tasting. Tip of his tongue stroking the corners of my lips, teasing, while his strong hand cradled the back of my head. Fingers buried in my long, thick curls, kneading down to my nape and up again, melting everything away.

Awareness, included. And propriety.

Our suspended moment broke with the screech of rubber against road. The bus braked, lurched forward, taking us passengers with it, jerking most of the rows awake. It must have been a goat or a horse crossing the road. Dawn was hours away from breaking and it was dark and cool outside, sheets of fog visible through the grimy windows.

Soon the bus was back to its rolling stroll on the pavement. Our fellow passengers were groaning and folding back to sleep around us, and I was reminded that Ringo and I were not exactly in the best place for melt-the-world-away kisses.

“There are people.” I shushed the man whose lips were toying with my earlobe.

“Who is sexy?” His tongue grazed the shell of my ear.

I shivered, from the blast of pine-scented air above us and the shot of heat from my navel. “We’re in a bus.”

“Whose idea was that?” Ringo chuckled, but he eased off and leaned back. He tugged at the thick cotton of my hoodie and tucked it around me, zipping it all the way up under my chin. “I wanted to drive you.”

I buried myself inside my jacket as he pulled the hood up and over my head. “This is your first music festival. You need the full experience. And it starts with a long trip on a midnight bus.”

“I’m not complaining. I am asking who’s sexy.” Dark eyebrows up and wiggling. Ripe lips curved in a smirk, bearing my final warning.

“My boyfriend is sexy,” I whispered in a rush, should he dare attack me with his demanding kisses again while we were in this packed public transport vehicle surrounded by half-asleep, full-on snoring travelers. “And apparently requires validation.” I met his mouth with mine anyway, quick and firm, before sinking back against my seat.

Ringo let out a quiet laugh, self-satisfied and triumphant. The brat.

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