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blueskrugs · 4 years

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Some People Do, Part 2. | Nathan MacKinnon

the MacRedemption arc y’all didn’t need or ask for. this fic brought to you by taylor swift’s folklore

Part 1.

also huge shoutout to @burkymakar for beta-ing this monster of a sequel that turned out about three and a half times as long as the original.

length: 21.1k words

The Avalanche’s new season started. You didn’t watch the home opener. In fact, you weren’t even around to watch it. You left Denver. Took some leave from work, packed a couple bags, and went back to your hometown to be with your family for a while.

Or, to be somewhere where the ghosts of your relationship with Nate didn’t seem to follow you everywhere. You didn’t think Denver and the people in it would miss you that much anyway.

Mel called you one afternoon at the beginning of the Avs’ first road trip of the season. “Linnea misses you,” she said gently after you picked up the phone. “The boys are out of town, and I want all the girls to come over to watch the game tomorrow night. I’ll buy that wine you like, and we can order pizza.”

You sucked in a deep breath, your hand pausing where it was buried deep in your parents’ dog’s fur. Mel misinterpreted your silence and rushed to keep talking.

“We don’t have to talk about anything. We just want to see you. No one’s really heard from you since the season started.”

“Mel, I’m not in Denver. I left.” You heard Mel drop something on the other end of the line. Zoey started barking in the background.

“You left? What d’you mean you left? Without telling anyone? Y/N!” Mel’s voice rose as she spoke. You winced a little bit.

“I mean, I told my mom I was coming home…” Mel sighed at you. “Look, I’ll come back eventually, probably, I just couldn’t handle being there, seeing his face or hearing his name everywhere anymore.” Mel hummed, a sad sound. “Please don’t tell Gabe or any of the boys that I’m gone. I don’t need them worrying about me.”

“Oh, they already do, but I won’t say anything, I promise,” Mel said.

When your phone rang later that night and EJ’s name flashed across your screen, you groaned and cursed Mel under your breath. Of course she had told EJ anyway. You let it ring through to voicemail; he called again. He left a voicemail the second time, and then a minute later, your phone vibrated with a text, too. You didn’t really feel like listening to EJ scold you, so you ignored them both. EJ kept texting you through the night, all variations of “call me back.”

It wasn’t until you were curled up in your bed in the dark, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you leaned against your headboard, that you pressed play on EJ’s voicemail. He did indeed scold you for a moment before his voice softened. You could picture the worried look in his eyes clearly.

“Please call me back, Y/N. Gabe’s losing his mind, and I want to know that you’re okay. I will fucking fly to your hometown if you won’t talk to me,” he threatened.

The thing was, you really didn’t doubt that EJ would use their next off day to track you down. You bit your lip, thumb hovering over the call button. The phone had barely rung once before EJ was answering it.

“Thank fuck, Y/N.” He sounded a little out of breath, and a lot like he was trying to be casual about it, but failing terribly, which made you smile. “Mel said you left Denver? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Mel also said she wasn’t going to tell you boys. And I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t aware that I had to tell you everything, EJ. You’re not my brother.”

You could practically hear EJ rolling his eyes at you. “No, but I’m the closest thing you’ve got while you’re in Denver, and it would’ve been nice to know you’re safe or something.”

You scoffed. “Not like any of you have tried very hard to check on me before now. You could’ve called at any time, EJ.”

EJ sighed, “Okay, fair enough. Do you know when you’ll come home? Cox has been moping around the house since training camp started. We all know he misses you, but Nate doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t know if I will come back, E,” you said carefully. EJ made a sound like he wanted to argue with you but stayed quiet. “I love Denver, but so much of it is tied up with Nate, I don’t know if I can handle that.” “Okay, but consider this: someone’s gotta take care of Burky, because he’s still kind of an idiot.” That startled a laugh out of you, and when EJ spoke again, you could hear his grin. “I think he almost misses you more than Cox.” He paused. “We all miss you, Y/N.”

It was almost November before you made yourself get on a plane back to Denver. You went quietly, too afraid of how many Avs players would show up at your apartment door if they caught wind of you being back in town. You went back to work every day, and at night you would sit on the couch with a glass of wine and torture yourself by watching the Avalanche play. It turned out that not even a broken heart could keep you away from hockey for too long. You still had to catch yourself to keep from cheering every time Nate scored, though. Some habits were harder to break than others, apparently.

You still texted EJ every once in a while, carefully not mentioning that you were back in Denver. You wondered how long it would take him to figure out.

You watched the games from the safety of your apartment most nights, and you never texted any of the boys, though the temptation was there sometimes, after someone scored a particularly good goal, or took a spectacularly stupid penalty.

And then Nate took a dirty hit from a Stars player that threw him into the boards. It was his shoulder again, you knew, even before he got up slowly and made his way off the ice, even through the TV screen you were watching on. The camera panned over the bench once, showed you all the tense, worried faces of the players as they looked at each other, looked at the scoreboard—where they were losing with not enough time left—looked at where one of their best players had disappeared down the tunnel.

Your phone was in your hand before you realized what you were doing. You were pretty sure you still had one of the trainers’ numbers from one of Nate’s last injuries, but as you pulled open the text thread, you didn’t even know what to say.

No one knew where your relationship with Nate stood. Hell, you didn’t even know where your relationship with Nate stood anymore. No one even knew you’d come back to Denver.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you watched the clock wind down. Your phone stayed unlocked in your hand, but you hadn’t typed anything.

Instead, you backed out of the texts to the Avs’ trainer. You opened a text thread you hadn’t used much lately. Typed out a message and hit send before you could stop yourself.

“Can I come over?”

You were half-asleep on the couch when your phone vibrated again half an hour later, hockey highlights on mute on the TV. You jolted awake, reaching for it in the half-dark. You blinked against the brightness of your phone screen. On it were two words: “of course.”

You jumped up, tugging a hoodie on over your pajamas.

The roads to Nate’s house were familiar, even in the dark. Your hands shook on your steering wheel as you got closer. You weren’t really sure what you had been thinking when you had texted Nate, aside from some instinct to take care of him when he was injured.

You weren’t sure what Nate was thinking by telling you to come over, either.

The lights were on on the first floor when you pulled into the driveway. You sat in the car for a minute, steeling yourself, before making your way to the front door.

You no longer had a key. You could hear Cox barking inside, his nails scrabbling on the hardwood as he raced towards the front door, and Nate’s frustrated, “God, shut up!” before the door was being pulled open.

Cox barked one last time before he was barreling into your legs. You bent down to pet Cox, burying your face in his fur for a moment, choosing to ignore Nate standing in the doorway. If you were hiding a few tears, that was between you and Cox. Cox stopped deigning to stand still after a minute, wanting instead to lick your face, so you pulled back and stood up, meeting Nate’s eyes at last.

His arm was in a sling, and he looked tired, beyond the fact that he had just played a hard hockey game, and more like he wasn’t sleeping well. He shifted awkwardly on his socked feet; you tried not to notice the way he winced when his shoulder moved.

His voice was quiet, shy, when he spoke. “Hi.”

Cox was still wiggling happily at your feet, and you almost didn’t hear him. You stopped petting Cox to grin sheepishly up at Nate. “Hey.”

Nate shook himself a little, taking a step back and opening the front door a little wider. “Come on, it’s dark out.”

You followed him inside, noting the stiffness in his neck and shoulders as he walked. Cox nudged at your hands as you walked, clearly ecstatic that you’d come home. Nate went into the living room and settled on the couch, but you walked into the kitchen to pull an ice pack out of the freezer. Your hands were shaking a little again.

You slowly made your way back into the living room, trying very hard not to think about everything that had happened the last time you had been in there. Nate had turned the TV on, but you didn’t look at it as you threw the ice pack at him. Nate winced again as he caught it, but still mumbled a “Thanks.”

You stayed standing. Cox rolled over onto his back by your feet. Nate chuckled at him a little before an awkward silence fell over the room again.

“I didn’t know you were back in Denver,” Nate said finally. You had crouched down to rub Cox’s belly, but your head shot up to look at Nate. He hadn’t moved on the couch, and between the sling, the ice pack, and the tension in the room, he looked downright uncomfortable. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel particularly sorry for him.

“I didn’t know EJ had told you I left,” you replied, making a mental note to kill EJ the next time you saw him. Nate shrugged as best as he could with an injured shoulder. “I came back a couple of weeks ago, been keeping to myself mostly.” Nate made a face that you couldn’t read. That was new. You’d always been able to figure him out, even when he was trying to hide his emotions.

“Why are you here?” Nate asked quietly. Your hands paused in Cox’s fur again. You knew he wasn’t asking why you had come back to Denver, but why you were here in the house you used to share, getting him ice packs and petting Cox like nothing had ever changed.

“I don’t know, Nate,” you sighed. “Honestly. I was watching the game and saw you go down, and some terrible fucking instinct of mine wanted to make sure you were okay, and here I am.”

Nate grinned, but his eyes were sad. “You don’t have to take care of me anymore. I don’t deserve it.” It was your turn to shrug. Cox was now attempting to sit in your lap; you pushed your face into his fur again, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “He’s missed you a lot, y’know,” Nate added. Cox rested his chin on the top of your head. “I think he’s mad at me or something. Gives me the cold shoulder when I get home from roadies now. Won’t sleep on the bed with me anymore, either.”

You managed a laugh; you hoped Nate didn’t hear how watery it was. Cox snuffled in your hair, and you hugged him a little tighter. When you pulled back from him, Nate was smiling at both of you fondly, and a little wistfully.

You stood up, checking your watch. “I should- I better go. It’s getting kinda late, and I have to work in the morning.” Something flashed across Nate’s face again, but he stood up, letting the ice pack fall to the couch. He was clearly still in pain, but he was less stiff than he had been when you arrived. “Don’t leave that on the couch overnight,” you told him, looking over his shoulder at the melting ice pack. Nate rolled his eyes, but smiled softly at you.

“I won’t, I promise.” Nate followed you to the door. “Hey, can I drop Cox off at your place some days, and, like, for some of our road trips? I don’t know if he can handle you not being around much longer.” You both looked at Cox, who was also following you two to the door, suddenly looking dejected again. “Look, he knows you’re leaving again.” Nate bent down to squish Cox’s face as best as he could with only one hand, then settled for ruffling his ears. “He misses you.” You smiled in spite of yourself and bent to drop a kiss to the top of Cox’s head.

“I miss you, too, baby. My apartment is a lot smaller than you’re used to, but there’s a park we can go to a couple of blocks over.” Cox whined at you.

“Text me when you get home, yeah?” Nate said.

You looked closely at him before responding. His eyes were still tired, a little haggard and a little too old for his body, but they were brighter than they had been earlier.

“Of course,” you said.

You did text Nate as soon as your apartment door was locked behind you. It felt strange, something you had both always done in the early days of your relationship, but had stopped being necessary as time went on and you had moved in together. It hurt a little bit, knowing all the history and things you had shared with Nate, but feeling as if you barely knew each other after all this time. You had never imagined that you would have to start your relationship over with Nate. You weren’t sure you really wanted to.

Nate started texting you again after that, just random, unobtrusive messages: pictures and videos of Cox or stupid things one of his teammates had said during the day. You never replied, aside from occasionally reacting to some of the messages, but Nate didn’t seem to expect or need a response from you, because they just kept coming.

You started to look forward to seeing them everyday.

Cox did also start coming around to your apartment, though it was usually EJ or Burky bringing him over. The first time Nate had tried to drop him off, but Cox had gotten confused and wouldn’t let Nate leave. It had led to one very awkward walk to the park in silence.

The first road trip was the hardest. It was nice to have Cox around again, curled up behind your legs in your bed as you slept and demanding attention constantly, but you couldn’t help but think of the things you now knew. The things Nate got up to on road trips. Was it just like last year all over again? Were you home with the dog while Nate was off with some girl that wasn’t you? Was he with the same girl as last time, was he still flying her out to games? Or had he found someone else new to pass the time with?

The Avs swept the road trip, but you couldn’t bring yourself to watch any of the games.

It was the week before Christmas when you found yourself outside Nate’s front door again. He had tried to give you a key– your old key– since you were taking care of Cox all the time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take it. Today you had been baking, and Sarah had asked for your snickerdoodles for when she came to town.

Cox didn’t bark when you came to the door anymore, but he did greet you with a toy in his mouth.

“You’re a terrible guard dog,” Nate scoffed. Cox wiggled excitedly. “He still knows the sound of your car,” he told you. “You can never get another one.”

You laughed, handing the Tupperware of cookies off to Nate so you could bend down and throw the toy for Cox. “He’s a good guard dog when it counts,” you said. “Remember when he barked at EJ because he had his teeth in?”

Nate laughed as you followed him into the kitchen. “I think he growled at Burky for like two months, but only if he was wearing a hat.” He tilted the Tupperware of cookies up to the light. “Jesus, how many cookies did you fucking bake? You know I can’t eat any of these, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, whatever, don’t front. You and Tyson used to eat all sorts of shit I would bake during the season. And your sister asked for snickerdoodles, and I wanted to try a new recipe for gingerbread, so y’all get to be the guinea pigs for it, too.”

Nate’s eyes widened, and he tore the lid off the container and dug through it until he came up with a gingerbread cookie. “Fuck, Y/N, I love you,” he groaned, mouth full of cookie, before he froze. “I didn’t- I’m sorry. These are really good, though.”

All you said was, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, MacKinnon,” just to see Nate’s blush. His words, however accidental, however impulsive, were still ringing in your ears, and you were trying not to think about them.

Nate finished his cookie in silence. Cox had come back and was nudging your hand so you would throw his toy again. Outside the kitchen window, it had started to snow, fat white flakes floating by. You threw Cox’s toy a couple more times, watching as he skittered off down the hall.

“Big, scary German shepherd, my ass,” you muttered as Cox slid and wiped out on the hardwood. His tail was still wagging.

The snow was falling harder already. “I should get home before I get snowed in here,” you said, reaching for your keys.

Nate looked out the window, alarmed. “Like hell you are. It’s dark and already snowing hard. I don’t want you driving home in this.”

“Nate,” you sighed.

“I know, I know. But it’s too fucking dangerous for you to drive, and you can have the guest room and Cox, and I’ll stay out of your way. I meant what I said about leaving you alone when you closed the door. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

You sighed, looking over Nate’s shoulder at the snow falling outside the window. It really was falling fast already, quickly becoming a blizzard. You shivered in spite of yourself.

“Fine, but I’m taking you up on sharing a bed with Cox.”

Nate grinned, and it hit you that you could never make yourself hate that smile.

Cox trailed after you to the living room, but Nate lingered in the kitchen. You could hear him banging through cabinets and drawers. At one point, he called out, “Where’s the- never mind!” You and Cox just shared a look.

Eventually Nate came into the living room, balancing two mugs of hot chocolate and a plate full of gingerbread cookies. You raised an eyebrow, but Nate just shrugged.

“It’s cold outside. By the way, you might need to make more gingerbread before Sarah comes.”

“I thought cookies weren’t on the diet,” you teased. Nate’s ears turned red, and you laughed.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he said, taking a bite to punctuate his sentence.

A quiet fell again, and outside the window, so did the snow. You ran your fingers through Cox’s fur absentmindedly as you sipped your hot chocolate.

“Is that really what you want, Nate? Someone who doesn’t even like hockey?” you blurted. You didn’t regret shattering the careful atmosphere of the house.

Nate grimaced, and he rushed to set his mug down, nearly spilling hot chocolate on the rug. He turned to look at you. “Fuck, no, Y/N, I- I have never regretted anything more in my life. And regrets do fuck-all to fix things, I know that, but I want you to know that, given the opportunity, I would go back to the beginning of last season and change it all. I could still play the worst hockey of my career, and I wouldn’t care as long as I got to keep you at the end of it all.”

“Nate, some of the things you said...I spent so many nights awake last summer, thinking about them, wondering what I could’ve done better or differently, wondering if it was all my fault,” you said. You didn’t wipe away the tear that slid down your cheek.

Nate looked like he wanted to reach out to touch you. “I believed what I said at the time, fuck, I was so stupid. One of the things I’ve always loved most about you is that you loved hockey before you met me. You understood hockey. And suddenly I had someone in my life who loved the sport I loved, but also loved me. You knew when to talk about the game with me, and you knew when to distract me. You would have loved me even without the hockey, and I was so fucking destructive, so fucking stupid that I threw it all away.” Nate’s blue eyes were clouded with tears now, too.

“Where did I go wrong, Nate? Where did we go wrong?”

This time Nate did reach out for you, lunging across the couch to grab your hands, sliding down to his knees next to you. “No, no, fuck no. None of this is on you; it never was. I thought then that what I needed was the anonymity to ground me, but what I’ve always needed was you.”

You let out a sob, wrenched one of your hands away from Nate’s to cover your mouth. Nate grabbed your wrist and tugged your hand back down, brushing a tear away with his thumb as he did.

“You’re the one who’s always kept me grounded, got me out of my head when I would start to freak out. You never gave a fuck about who I was. I could just be Nate with you.”

You sat still for a moment, trying to process Nate’s words. “I left Denver because I couldn’t handle seeing your fucking face everywhere. Because no matter what you did, you would always be Nathan MacKinnon, face of the Colorado Avalanche. But you fucking destroyed me, Nate. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to trust myself or anyone else again. I didn’t know if I’d ever want to come back to Denver again. I hated myself for still loving someone who had proved that he could forget about me so easily.” You broke off with another sob; Nate rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand absently. “I meant what I said about not being able to do this again. I can’t just jump headfirst into the deep end. I can’t go back to the way things were, no matter how much I want to. I just can’t.”

Nate smiled, but it was small. “I don’t think I could ask you to go back to the way things were. I don’t wanna ask you to start over and forget everything, either. I don’t deserve that. But you’re here. And I wanna know if you’re willing to try, let me prove that I can do this right this time.”

You sighed and looked away. Nate’s eyes, intense and cautiously hopeful, were too much to look at. “I don’t know, Nate.” Nate visibly deflated. “It’s not a no,” you added. “Just… I don’t know.” You were still gazing around the living room. It was the week before Christmas, but there weren’t any decorations anywhere, not even a tree. “Hey, where are all of our Christmas decorations?” you asked.

Nate shrugged and stood up. “Didn’t feel right, without you, I guess. Just never really seemed like Christmas,” he admitted. You pouted a little at him, but he just rolled his eyes.

Christmas had always been your favorite holiday, and, over the years, you had brought Nate around to loving it just as much as you did.

You and Nate had only been dating a couple of weeks by the time the holiday season rolled around. Nate didn’t seem nearly as enthusiastic about Christmas as you were, even though this would be your first Christmas in Denver, away from your family.

“Nate, where are your Christmas decorations?” you called, standing in the entryway and looking at Nate’s barren house at the beginning of December.

He poked his head out of a doorway. “I have a tree?” he said. You must’ve looked appalled, because he added, “I don’t really need that much. We’re gone so much, it doesn’t feel like it’s worth the effort.”

“Okay, change of plans!” you said, already slipping your boots back on. Nate groaned, but he came into the hallway, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at you. “I wanted to get some new decorations for my apartment, and now you’re coming, too, so we can decorate this wasteland you call a house.”

“Hey! My mom did a lot of the decorating in here!”

“Yes, and it still looks exactly like the house of a twenty-something professional athlete who doesn’t give a fuck aboout aesthetic or interior design. Now, come on, put your shoes on, let’s go!”

Nate groaned again, but he grabbed his keys and put on shoes. “Fine, but I’m driving,” he said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss. You grinned at him.

You already had most of the decorations you needed for your small apartment, but Nate’s house had pretty much nothing, and Nate had absolutely no idea how much time you could spend shopping, especially when it came to Christmas decorations.

You ended up dragging him to four stores over the course of a couple hours, with the promise of “I swear it won’t take long in there” every time. It never was true. By the end, the trunk of Nate’s car was filled with bags of decorations, including some cute wrapping paper and bows you had insisted he buy.

“You know I can’t wrap a present, right?” he had asked when you put the wrapping paper in the cart. You had let out a frustrated groan, poking him between the ribs.

“Well, guess you’re gonna have to learn, MacKinnon, because I am not wrapping your presents for you.”

It took the two of you nearly ten minutes to haul all the bags back into the house, with Cox excitedly running back and forth with you on each trip. Nate collapsed on the couch.

“Babe, I’m tired,” he said. Cox, still excited, leaped onto his stomach. “Oof, bud, rude.”

“Did you still want to cook, or do you want to order something?” you asked, digging through a bag for the wreath you wanted to hang on the front door.

Nate checked his watch. “What about that one bar we went to last week? They had good food.”

You nodded, now looking for the stocking you had insisted Nate buy for Cox.

After a couple more hours, Nate’s house had been decorated to your satisfaction, with lights, candles and garland. You had made Nate turn on Christmas music while you worked, and more than once you caught him smiling at you as you sang along. Nate was now slumped on the couch again. You threw a throw pillow at him.

“See, I told you it would feel more like a home if you decorated.” Nate sighed and hugged the pillow to his chest without opening his eyes, which you knew meant that you were right but he didn't want to admit to it. “Do you want to go to bed?” you asked. Nate nodded silently. The Avs didn’t have an early practice in the morning, and as the hours had ticked on while you decorated, Nate had told you to stay the night instead of driving home.

“Hey, wait,” Nate said suddenly as you walked through the doorway, tugging your wrist and spinning you around into his chest. “Isn’t there some tradition to do with kissing?”

“I didn’t buy mistletoe, Nate,” you teased, but you let Nate lean down to kiss you anyway, slow and deep, with one hand on the small of your back and the other cupping your cheek.

You got ready for bed in a comfortable silence. You were still humming the words to a Christmas song. Cox was waiting on the bed for you when you left the bathroom. Nate made him move over so you could have room on the bed, but he did so begrudgingly. You hadn’t been planning on staying, so you were drowning in one of Nate’s T-shirts.

You curled into his chest, and when he spoke, his voice rumbled beneath your ear. “You should come to the Christmas family skate with me,” he said casually, but you could feel his tenseness where your hand was resting on his hip.

You pulled back to look at him. “You know I can’t skate, right?” And other than seeing Tyson Barrie a handful of times, mostly in passing, you hadn’t met any of Nate’s teammates, and you weren’t going to lie and say you weren’t a little nervous about the idea.

“You’ll be surrounded by hockey players, babe. I’ll make sure you don’t fall, don’t worry.”

Nate broke you out of your reverie. “Would you- did you want to decorate? I can get everything out.” He sounded unsure. Decorating for Christmas had become an all-day affair over the years, complete with baking cookies and watching holiday movies.

You thought about it for a second. Nate had been right, something about Christmas felt off this year, like something– or someone, you supposed wryly– was missing.

“You go get the boxes, I’ll make more hot chocolate, and I get to pick the music.”

“Always,” Nate smiled, bright and wide and real, almost relieved that you’d been willing.

Something told you that no one had seen a lot of that smile recently.

While you waited for Nate to dig out the boxes of Christmas decorations, you stole his Bluetooth speaker to connect your Christmas playlist, and turned on the gas fireplace. Instantly, the room felt warmer and more welcoming.

Almost like home.

Nate set one of the boxes down with a thud, startling you. “Alright, here’s the tree, and we’ve still got like four more boxes, because someone has no self control when it comes to buying Christmas decorations.”

You blushed a little, but looked straight at Nate when you said, “Well, let’s get started then.”

You moved easily around each other, falling into a rhythm. You were mostly quiet, aside from Nate asking you where things went, and both of you singing along to songs, but it wasn’t awkward or tense like most of your silences had been of late. Nate didn’t even complain when you threw a throw pillow at him.

“Where Are You Christmas” began playing, Faith Hill’s voice filling the living room, and you smiled as Nate stretched to put the star on top of the tree. He turned and saw you looking at him; he walked over to you, slipping one arm around your waist.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he asked quietly.

“Feels like Christmas again,” you murmured.

Nate wrapped his other arm around you and tugged you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, solid and strong like he’d always been, and let yourself lean into it. You stayed like that for several minutes, long enough for the song to end and another one to start. The living room had been mostly decorated, and behind Nate, the tree filled the room with a warm light. You could see the two salt dough ornaments you had made for your second Christmas together, when Nate gave you a key to his house and asked if you would move in, and when you had wrangled Cox into making one with his pawprint.

The song changed again. You smiled against Nate’s shirt. They’re singing ‘Deck the Halls’ but it’s not like Christmas at all, ‘cause I remember when you were here, and all the fun we had last year. Nate rested his chin on the top of your head; he was warm, chasing away the chill you still felt from the snow outside.

Cox nudged his way in between you, never wanting to miss anything, effectively ruining the moment. He jumped up, placing his paws gently on Nate’s chest.

“Oh, do you wanna be in on the hug too, buddy?” Nate asked, ruffling Cox’s ears. You smiled at them as Cox wagged his tail, trying to fight back a yawn, but Nate noticed anyway. “It’s getting pretty late, isn’t it? Do you want to borrow something to sleep in?”

You had spent the day baking, so you weren’t dressed nicely, but it would be nice to wear something else to sleep in. Nate left you in the guest bathroom with an extra toothbrush, and an old, well-worn Avalanche T-shirt. Cox was laying on the floor, waiting for you.

It felt strange, wearing one of Nate’s oversized T-shirts, in the house you once called home, sleeping in the guest room like a stranger. Everything was so familiar, but you no longer felt like you belonged. You were on your phone under the blankets when Cox jumped off the bed and whined at the closed door.

“What is it, baby?” you asked, peering through the dark. You could just barely make out Cox’s dark eyes staring back at you. He whined again, this time pawing at the bottom of the door. “You wanna go sleep with Nate? C’mon.”

You pushed the blankets back and climbed out of the bed. Sleep didn’t seem to be coming any time soon, anyway. Cox whined again as you walked across the room and opened the door. He took a step out into the hall before turning back to look at you again.

You groaned. “Cox, I know you know where the bedroom is. Go find Nate.” Cox took a couple steps, but stopped when he saw you weren’t following him. “Stupid dog, let’s go.”

Cox ran ahead as you made your way to the closed bedroom door. He sat next to you, looked up at you with his tongue hanging out, and you knocked quietly on the door.

“Yeah?” Nate didn’t sound like he’d been asleep, either.

“Cox wants to sleep with you, apparently.” Nate chuckled, and you heard his footsteps on the other side of the door.

You took a step back as he pulled it open. “I thought you didn’t like me anymore?” he asked. Cox ignored him and leaped onto the bed. You both laughed as he settled in, looking very pleased with himself. You were on your way back to the guest room when you heard Nate speak softly again. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Ten minutes later, you were still scrolling aimlessly through your phone when it vibrated with a text. “he won’t stop whining at the door.” You frowned before replying.

“that’s what he was doing in here. I thought he just wanted to be with you.”

There was a longer pause before Nate replied again; you were about to set your phone down and try to sleep. “I think he wants both of us” Then: “come to bed?”

You stared at that text until your screen went dark. You could go to sleep and pretend that it never happened, but something was stopping you. Something about the night you and Nate had shared gave you the distinct sensation that your relationship had shifted again. You still weren’t sure where you stood, not really, but thinking about your relationship no longer came with the sharp edge of heartbreak it had held for so long.

You crept out into the hallway again. Down the stairs, the soft glow of all of the Christmas lights you had put up still lit up the house. The door to your old bedroom was still solidly closed. You could picture Nate tangled up in the sheets, like he always used to be, with Cox stretched out near his feet. You paused with your hand on the doorknob.

You could turn back now, and no one would know. You wondered vaguely, what kind of woman it made you, to even consider fixing a relationship with the man who cheated on you. Did it make you weak? Were you a fool? What did it mean that Nate had destroyed your trust, and you were willing to give it back to him, however broken?

You twisted the doorknob. As light from the hall flooded into the room, you could see Cox sitting up on the bed, staring at the door, and Nate was leaned up against the headboard. When he smiled at you, his teeth flashed white in the dimness.

Cox was thumping his tail against the bed. “Seriously, do you guard against anything?” you whispered as he licked your hand.

Nate was quiet as you set your phone down on the bedside table and settled into bed. “He’s pretty good at guarding my heart,” he whispered. There was an infinity of space between the two of you on the bed, but Cox was warm against your feet.

“I think it took him three months before he stopped watching my every move when I was over,” you said back. “Too bad he couldn’t protect me against a broken heart.” Nate sucked in a sharp breath. You rolled over before he could respond.

The two of you laid in the dark and silence for a while; you couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but eventually you fell asleep.

When you woke up in the morning, you found yourself tangled with Nate. His bare feet were cold against your legs, but his hand was warm where it had slipped under your– his, really– T-shirt. Your face was tucked into his chest, and you could feel his slow, gentle breaths stirring your hair.

Outside, the sun glinted off the snow, bitterly cold, but inside, in this bed, you were warm and cozy, Nate’s arm across your hip a comforting weight. You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off to sleep again.

When you awoke again, Nate was awake, but he had pulled you closer. You tilted your chin up to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. You weren’t sure what he was apologizing for anymore.

You laid like that for a few minutes more before Cox stuck his nose under the sheets and whined. You laughed as Nate squirmed away from the cold.

“I think someone wants breakfast,” you said, stretching. Cox’s ears perked up.

“C’mon, buddy,” Nate sighed.

When you wandered downstairs a few minutes later, Nate was standing in the kitchen, making breakfast. He had turned on Christmas music again and was singing along with Mariah Carey. You only barely resisted the urge to sneak your phone out and record him. As it was, you stood and watched him for a moment, leaning against the island with a small smile on your face. Eventually, Nate felt your eyes on his back and turned around.

“Still like your eggs the same way?” he asked. You had never changed the way you took your eggs in all the years you had known Nate, so you nodded. Nate had already turned back to the stove.

Things were awkward again in the daylight, the rawness of all the talking done the night before too much for the sunshine. You watched and waited as Nate put eggs on two plates, pulled some fruit out of the fridge, and slid you a mug of coffee. It was still hot, and made just the way you liked it.

“They should have the roads cleared soon, and you can get home,” Nate said, breaking the silence. You looked up at him, startled, but his eyes were focused on his plate. Right. Time to break the spell and return to the real world. Christmas music was still playing quietly, but now it felt wrong.

“Oh, shit, I’m gonna have to clean off my car,” you groaned.

“I’ll help you,” Nate said easily, and maybe things didn’t quite have to go back to the way things were.

Christmas passed without further incident, although André did text you and ask for more gingerbread cookies. Nate continued texting you, but now you started responding every once in a while, even sending him something first a couple of times. When Nate dropped Cox off the night before a road trip, he came with takeout from your favorite restaurant. EJ started texting you more, too, asking pointed questions about when you would come to a game or hang out with the guys.

You had been avoiding them, it was true, and you missed them, but you weren’t entirely sure that you could handle all of them. It turned out that you couldn’t avoid them any longer when Mel and Aleks invited– insisted, more like– you to come to a game with them just after the new year.

You told them that you would think about it and took a full two days to respond. You said yes; you always knew you would say yes. You decided not to tell any of the boys that you’d be going, but you got a text from every other wife and girlfriend, all telling you how excited they were to see you again.

You found yourself getting excited, too, despite the lingering anxiousness of seeing Nate around all of his teammates. You’d always loved the energy of hockey games, and the Pepsi Center was no exception. It was thrilling, in a way, and it always seemed more energizing when you were dating one of the players down on the ice, listening to thousands of fans scream his name, knowing that you were the one who got to hold him after a game.

Now, though, you knew that you hadn’t been the only one who got to see Nate, to kiss him, after a game.

You drove to the Can with Mel and Linnea. You weren’t wearing your MacKinnon jersey, just a sweater and jeans; you had seen the jersey shoved in the back of your closet when you were getting ready, and paused, but you didn’t think you were ready for that, not yet. To her credit, Mel hadn’t commented on it when you climbed into her car.

The Pepsi Center was as frenzied and intoxicating as you remembered it. The Avs’ last season had turned out to be a fluke, and the team was tearing up the Western Conference. Ashley Kadri laughed at you when she saw you simply staring around the arena like a child at their first hockey game, a giant grin on your face, but she draped her arm across your shoulders, pulling you in and saying, “Welcome back, girl.”

The Avalanche won in a wild battle against the Blues that saw Nate with two goals. You couldn’t help but think that you didn’t have a hat to throw if he had scored a third goal.

The girls roped you into coming down to the family room to wait for your boys after the game. The adrenaline high of the game was wearing off, and you were nervous all over again about seeing Nate. Maybe you should’ve told him you were coming, you thought, as you chewed anxiously on your bottom lip. You didn’t think he’d get upset that you were at a game, he used to love it when you came to games, but things were so different now.

You were knocked out of your thoughts by a half-dressed, curly head of hair barrelling into you. You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for balance as he clutched onto your waist.

“Christ, Burky, I saw you, like, last week.”

André squeezed you tighter. “Yeah, but now you’re at a game! You haven’t come to a game in ages!”

“Let her breathe, Burk,” Gabe said from somewhere behind you. André let go, but didn’t move far away from you. “He’s right, though. You’ve been avoiding us.”

“God, you sound like EJ. Can you blame me for not wanting to see you guys?” You heard the defensiveness creep into your tone. Gabe just shrugged.

“Leave her alone, both of you.” It was Nate’s voice this time. You spun around to face him, and Burky took a half step in front of you.

Nate didn’t seem to notice, though, because his eyes were on you. You knew he saw that you weren’t wearing his jersey, but his eyes lingered on the necklace that hung around your throat, the same one he had given you three years ago.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” he said. You bit your lip again. EJ appeared over Nate’s shoulder, like he could sense the tension, and was ready for a fight. “Shit, I mean, come here, yeah?”

You dashed around Burky and into Nate’s arms. He had already showered, and you buried your face in his chest, breathed in the familiar smell of his soap and deodorant, as he held you. Distantly, you heard some of the other boys cheering, and Gabe shushing them. Nate pulled away from you and walked you over to a quieter hallway around the corner.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Nate repeated once the din of the rest of his team faded away.

You shrugged. “It was kinda an impulsive decision,” you lied, but Nate smirked at you.

“You never do anything impulsive. Besides, your hair and makeup are done, and it’s a Saturday night.” You stuck your tongue out at him instead of responding. Nate’s eyes softened as they caught the necklace you were wearing again. “I thought you would’ve gotten rid of that by now,” he said.

Instinctively, your hand went up to fidget with the pendant. “I hadn’t been wearing it, but I thought I could tonight.”

Nate smiled sadly at you. “That was a nice night, wasn’t it?”

Your smile matched Nate’s. “Everything was nice back then.”

Your first anniversary with Nate actually fell in the middle of a road trip. Nate had called you to apologize when the schedule first came out, but you had just laughed and told him it wasn’t his fault.

He apologized again when you were sitting on his bed while he packed for the road trip. This time you stood up and wrapped your arms around Nate’s neck, going up on your toes to peck his lips.

“Babe, it’s fine, I get it,” you told him. “Cox and I will still be here when you get back.” Nate finally smiled at that.

“We’ll go out and celebrate properly then, I promise,” he said, tossing a pair of socks behind you at his suitcase. He missed. “By the way, can I have that hoodie back?”

You pulled the sleeves of his way-too-big hoodie over your hands. “What hoodie?” you asked innocently.

Nate laughed before wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up. He tossed you easily onto the bed, and you shrieked as you bounced. And then Nate was on top of you, propped up on his forearms. He kissed you once, twice, and then a third time, deeper than the other two. You reached up and tangled your fingers in his hair.

Nate pulled back just enough to murmur “I love you” against your lips before he was kissing you again.

Downstairs, Nate’s doorbell rang, and Cox started barking. Nate buried his face in your neck and groaned. You scratched your nails down Nate’s neck; he melted into you.

“Tyson’s early,” you said. Nate groaned again. Cox was still barking at the door. “You should get off of me and finish packing.”

“Maybe if we ignore him he’ll just go away,” Nate said, voice still muffled into your shoulder.

“Have you even met your best friend?” you asked, poking Nate in the ribs. He just rested his weight more solidly on top of you. As if to further prove your point, the doorbell rang again.

Nate heaved a sigh and rolled off of you.

Nate ended up kicking you out of the bedroom while he finished packing, calling you a “distraction” and a “sweatshirt thief.” You settled for sitting on the couch with your feet on Tyson’s lap, Cox happily between the two of you, his head resting on your outstretched legs.

“So, what are you two doing for your anniversary?” Tyson asked, nosy as ever.

“Fuck if I know,” you said. “Nate gave me his credit card one day last week to buy a dress, but he won’t tell me anything else about what we’re doing.”

Tyson laughed, and you kicked him. “Ow, rude!” Nate came down the stairs with his suitcase then. “Nathan, your girlfriend is being mean to me.”

“You probably deserved it,” Nate said flatly. Tyson looked absolutely affronted. Nate cut him off before he could say something indignant. “Come on, we’re gonna be late for the plane.” He shot you a grin and dropped a kiss on your head as he headed for the front door.

Tyson grumbled as he shoved your feet off his lap and stood up, following Nate.

“Text me when you land!” you called after them. Nate made a noise that might have been a “duh” at you before closing the front door. “Well, I guess it’s just us again, bud,” you said, looking at Cox, who decided he no longer wanted to be on the couch with you and flopped onto the floor.

When Nate Skyped you for your virtual date on your anniversary, you were surprised that he was in a button-down instead of his usual sweatshirt. You, on the other hand, were in an old Mooseheads sweatshirt that you had commandeered from Nate’s closet.

“Shit,” you said, “I didn’t know I was supposed to dress up for this.”

Nate laughed; that was a sound you’d never get tired of hearing. “I’m still wearing sweatpants, don’t worry.”

You were in the kitchen this time, instead of curled up on Nate’s bed, as Nate had insisted that you eat dinner together, even going as far to order you a pizza from your favorite pizza place and have it delivered to you. Nate let you talk about your day at work while you ate, and then he told you about the practice they’d had that morning, and how the rookies were goofing off and got everyone in trouble.

You talked for hours, you sitting at his kitchen table, Nate at the desk in his hotel room. It was getting late, and you stretched, Nate’s sweatshirt riding up your stomach.

“Hang on, what the hell did you do to my sweatshirt?” Nate asked, cutting himself off in the middle of a story.

You tugged the sweatshirt back down. You had gotten bored and cropped it, and you didn’t think Nate would ever notice. “I cropped it?” you said, more of a question.

“Babe, that could’ve been a collectible someday! And you destroyed it!”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve never even seen you wear it, and I can promise you no one is going to think this will be a collectible one day. Besides, I can still wear it just fine.” You stood up, ready to go to bed, and your stomach flashed a little again.

Nate shrugged. “Okay, maybe I don’t mind it being cropped.”

Nate came home late a couple of days later. He was trying to be quiet as he came into the bedroom, but he tripped over Cox, who was sprawled out on the floor. He stripped out of his suit quickly, leaving it in a pile on the floor to deal with in the morning, before crawling into bed and laying half on top of you. The Avs had lost two out of three games on the trip, and you had winced more than once as you watched one of the guys take a rough hit.

“Happy anniversary, babe,” he mumbled, already half-asleep.

“That was a couple of days ago, baby,” you said softly, running your fingers through his hair. Nate hugged you tighter, but didn’t justify you with a response.

When you woke up in the morning, Nate was still clinging to you, an overgrown, hockey-player-sized koala. The sun was streaming into the bedroom, which told you you’d both slept in much later than usual. Nate snuffled a little in his sleep, and you smiled down at him.

You were still gazing at him when he started to wake up, snuggling in closer for a moment before rolling onto his back and stretching.

“Morning,” he yawned, before tugging you until you were on top of him this time, cuddling to his satisfaction. “We could stay like this all day, y’know,” he mumbled.

“I believe I was promised pancakes,” you said back. Nate sighed.

The two of you laid there for a while, just content to be close, until your stomach started growling. Nate laughed before pushing you off of him and getting up. You followed him down into the kitchen and watched as he pulled out all the things to make pancakes, including mix for some stupidly healthy kind that he insisted that he still had to eat.

The sounds of the coffee maker and Nate humming along to the radio filled the kitchen while you cut up some fruit. Nate only burnt a couple of the pancakes.

You both laid around for most of the day, since you had the day off, and Nate skipped his optional skate. Cox seemed very happy to have both of his people around for the whole day. It wasn’t until late afternoon that Nate stood up, stretched and told you he was going to go shower. You lazed around on your phone for a while longer, until you heard Nate come out of the bathroom.

“My turn,” you said, coming into the bedroom. Nate shot you a look. “No coming into the bathroom until I come out.”

“But I haven’t seen your dress yet!” he protested.

“Tell me where we’re going for dinner, and you can see the dress before I put it on,” you told him.

Nate stuck his tongue out at you.

You emerged forty-five minutes later, makeup done and hair in place; you weren’t going to admit to how long it took you to get your eyeliner even. Nate wasn’t in the bedroom when you stepped out to grab your shoes and purse, so you snuck down the stairs barefoot.

Nate startled when you put your hand on his shoulder, but when he turned around and saw you, he was struck speechless.

Your new dress was blush-pink velvet, long-sleeved, but with a short enough skirt to show off your legs in your heels. You twirled, albeit slightly self-consciously, for him.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“I love it,” Nate said, catching you around the waist and pulling you in for a kiss. “I love you,” he added, resting his forehead against yours. “Now get your shoes on, we’re gonna be late for our reservation.

Nate drove, like he always did. It wasn’t until you actually pulled up to the restaurant that you realized where you were going. It was the same restaurant Nate had taken you to for your first date, one of the nicest in Denver; you had scolded him for the extravagance of it then, and you opened your mouth to do it now, but Nate cupped your jaw and gave you a quick kiss before you could.

“Hush, I’m allowed to spoil my girl every once in a while,” he said before opening his door and climbing out of his car.

You were still fumbling with your seatbelt when Nate came around to your side of the car to help you out. He didn’t move his hand from the small of your back until you were seated, and he settled across the table from you.

You let Nate order the wine, the appetizer, even your meal, because sometimes it seemed like he knew you better than you knew yourself. You kept up conversation throughout dinner, easy talk about anything and everything. You loved that you and Nate could still find things to talk about, even after spending an entire day with each other.

You were almost through the dessert you were sharing when Nate started getting fidgety. You waited him out until the last plate was cleared, until he swallowed the last of his wine, still didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. You kicked him gently under the table.

“Don’t tell me you brought me here for a nice dinner just to break up with me,” you teased.

Nate forced a laugh, but he looked less nervous. “On our anniversary? I would wait at least a week before I do that, but also I would never actually do that.” You laughed. “No, I got you something, but I just really want you to like it, and I-”

“Nate,” you said gently, nudging him gently with your foot again as you cut him off.

“Right,” Nate said, reaching into his inner jacket pocket and pulling out a jewelry box. He opened it to reveal a dark red garnet pendant, glowing in the dim restaurant lighting.

“Oh, Nate, it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Did your mom help you pick this out?” you teased.

“No, but Sarah did,” Nate mumbled, fumbling with the clasp as he tried to take it out of the box. “Turn around, I wanna put it on you.”

You rolled your eyes but turned and pulled your hair to the side so Nate could fasten the clasp around your neck. It hung perfectly just below your collarbones, and when you turned to kiss Nate again, it flashed and sparkled in the lights.

“I love it,” you murmured. In your heels, you didn’t have to stretch so much to kiss Nate. “I love you.”

“Hey,” Nate said, startling you out of your thoughts, “do you still have that Mooseheads sweatshirt you stole that week?”

You blushed, knowing exactly which sweatshirt he was talking about; you had been wearing it just the other day, but Nate didn’t need to know that.

“I thought you forgot about that,” you said.

“How could I forget about that? You cut off half of my sweatshirt!”

Your loud laugh caught the attention of EJ, who came over to throw an arm around each of your shoulders.

“Alright, you two,” he said, dragging you back towards the rest of the team, “no more secret conversations. If Y/N is yelling at Nate for something, we all wanna hear it.”

Nate ended up insisting that he drive you home, and you found that you didn’t want to fight it. EJ pulled you aside just before you followed Nate out to his car, though, and asked if you were okay with it. The concern in his eyes was endearing, if unnecessary. You assured him that you would be fine, but you could feel him watching you as you walked back to Nate, who was trying very hard to pretend to be interested in something on his phone, and followed him to his car.

Nate connected his phone to the car’s speakers, but he turned on the playlist you used when you were driving. You looked over at him, surprised, but he was resolutely focused on backing out of his parking spot.

“I didn’t think you still followed this playlist,” you said a few minutes later, after you had listened to Nate sing along to a Bastille song, the lights of Denver flashing by the windows.

He shrugged, still not looking at you, but he turned up the volume. “I still listen to it sometimes when we go on road trips,” was all he said.

Nate started FaceTiming you from the road again. At first, he claimed it was so he could check in on Cox, but eventually he stopped asking to talk to the dog and just sat with you for hours. More than once you woke up with your phone still in your hand, having fallen asleep while talking to Nate.

Nate came to pick up Cox one morning in February with a Starbucks in hand for you. It was exactly your order, which made you a little suspicious.

“Not that I’m complaining,” you said as you took a drink of your coffee, “but what’s wrong with the coffee I make here?”

Nate shrugged. He always seemed too large for your small apartment kitchen, but now, with his hands in his pockets and avoiding your gaze, he looked like he was trying to take up as little space as possible. Cox was sitting at his feet.

“Nate, what’s up?” you asked, taking a step across the floor to Nate. You set your coffee cup down on the counter, which made Nate look up at you.

“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” he blurted out. His eyes went wide, like he had surprised himself. “I mean, do you- can we try this all again? I want to do it properly, so, like, will you go out with me?”

You grinned. “Is that why you brought me a Starbucks?” you asked. “Because we met in Starbucks when you took my coffee?”

Nate groaned, but all of the tension dropped out of his shoulders. “That was an accident, and you know it!”

“Mmhmm, you definitely weren’t just looking for an excuse to talk to a pretty girl.” Nate blushed, and you gasped. “You thought I was pretty!”

Nate’s face turned even redder. “Of course I did, how could I not?” Then he added, “I’ve always thought you were pretty.”

You stepped closer to Nate again and stood up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Yes, Nate, I’ll go out with you,” you said.

Nate grinned, wide enough that his dimple appeared, and it hit you just how much you still loved his smile. You stopped yourself from just kissing Nate right there in the middle of your kitchen, but only barely.

Nate texted you a couple days later to tell you what time he would pick you up. When you asked what you would be doing, all he sent back was “dress warm.” You bugged him about it for a while, but you knew you would never get it out of him.

True to his word, Nate showed up at your door just as the sun was about to set. He smiled shyly at you as you opened the door. He hovered awkwardly in the doorway as you put on your boots and grabbed your coat.

“Are you ever gonna actually tell me what we’re doing?” you asked as you locked the door.

Nate pretended to think. “Nah.” He punched the elevator button, and your hands brushed together as he brought his back to his side. Nate clenched and unclenched his fingers as the elevator door opened.

As you stepped in and turned around, you took Nate’s hand, twining your fingers together. Nate relaxed and squeezed your hand once. He held your hand all the way out to his car, and then picked it back up once he started driving.

You couldn’t count the number of times the two of you had sat just like this, Nate driving one-handed, his other hand clutching yours across the console. Nate drove into the sunset, out of the city, the only sound in the car the radio and Nate’s occasional curse at another driver. It was a calm, comfortable silence, different than it had been recently with Nate. More like how it had been before.

Nate drove you all the way out to a field somewhere in the middle of who-knows-where, Colorado. He told you not to move before he climbed out of the car and started pulling things out of the backseat. You couldn’t tell what he was doing out in front of the car in the twilight.

When Nate finally came to open your door and help you out of the car, you smirked at him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you drove me all the way out here just to kill me,” you said.

Nate rolled his eyes and tugged your hand harder than necessary, causing you to stumble forward into his chest. He wrapped an arm around your waist to steady you; he was warm against the late winter air. When he looked down at you, his breath came out in a faint cloud. It seemed like any retort he had died on his lips.

Nate stared down at you for a moment, still holding you to his chest. Then he seemed to shake himself, taking a half step back and taking your hand in his again. He didn’t say anything as he led you over to a blanket he’d spread out on the ground. Nate sat and pulled you down between his legs to lean against his chest.

When he spoke, you could feel his chest vibrating underneath your back. “It’s not much, but we’ve done all the typical dates already. I thought we could just watch the stars for a while.”

You twisted around to press a kiss to Nate’s jaw. “It’s a perfect idea, Nate.” Even in the dark, you could see Nate’s cheeks turn pink.

“I brought hot chocolate, too,” he said. You hummed and snuggled in against Nate’s chest more.

He draped another blanket over you before wrapping his arms around you. It wasn’t quite dark enough to see stars yet, so you closed your eyes and just reveled in the fact that you were there, with Nate, and for a moment, you could let yourself forget that everything had changed. You could smell Nate’s cologne, familiar and comforting, and his heartbeat was a steady rhythm beneath you. Nate tucked his nose against your neck, and that’s how the two of you sat for a long time, letting the darkness grow around you.

You shivered; the temperature had dropped with the sun, and even Nate, a walking furnace, could only do so much.

“Here,” he said, shifting you a little bit so he could reach for the Thermos of hot chocolate. He unscrewed the cap before handing it to you.

You took a long drink, letting the warmth flow through you before handing it back to Nate. You blinked, trying to focus on the stars; you weren’t the greatest with constellations, but you had learned some of them when you were younger.

Nate followed your gaze and pointed. “That one’s Orion, isn’t it?” You followed Nate’s finger to the three stars that made up Orion’s Belt and nodded. “That and the Big Dipper are the only ones I know,” he said.

“The Big Dipper is actually part of Ursa Major, which is a bear,” you said, tracing out the rest of it with your finger. Nate made an interested noise behind you. You looked back at Orion, following it towards Sirius and Canis Major. “That really bright one is Sirius, the Dog Star.” Nate pressed a kiss to your temple, and you smiled. You paused before pointing at another constellation. “I think that’s Pegasus, with the square, and above it is Cassiopeia.”

“I’m gonna be honest,” Nate murmured, “I can’t really tell what you’re looking at, but the stars are pretty, and I could listen to you talk forever.” He rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I don’t really know that many more constellations,” you admitted, but you suddenly remembered an old folk myth you had been told every summer as a kid at summer camp about how the stars were created. You started telling it to Nate, carefully so you didn’t leave anything out; you could never tell the story the same way you had grown up hearing it, but Nate seemed invested, anyway.

You spoke quietly in the dark field, the whole world seeming hushed and far away. Nate’s arms tightened around you once you had finished the story. He kissed your temple again, and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence again, until Nate gasped and poked you in the side repeatedly.

“A shooting star!” he said, still poking you. A star had, in fact, streaked across the sky above you.

“Yes, Nathan, I saw it, now stop poking me!”

“You’re supposed to make a wish, babe,” he said.

You sighed and closed your eyes. There, sitting on the cold ground in a field, wrapped up in Nate and his warmth, you couldn’t imagine ever wishing for anything else. You would give anything for this moment to last forever, for moments like this to become commonplace in your life again.

You sat out under the stars for a little while longer before you started shivering again. Nate laughed at you when he helped you up.

“Shut up, not all of us can be a walking heater,” you said.

“Go sit in the car, I’ll clean everything up, “ he told you, kissing your forehead.

The drive back into Denver was nothing like the drive out of the city. You took Nate’s phone and opened his Spotify, searching for your own playlist. Nate groaned when he saw what you were doing, but let you turn up the volume. You both spent the entire car ride singing along to the songs that came on at the top of your lungs.

Nate didn’t kiss you when he left you at your apartment door, but he did duck his head and shoot you a shy smile when you told him you’d like to do that again, and it was a start for both of you.

More dates kept getting scheduled, hikes on days off, takeout and a movie on nights in, impromptu ones where Nate showed up at your work with lunch. Nate would ask you about work, or your family, and it really was just like you were getting to know each other all over again. You convinced Nate to start a new show one night, and you ended up binging a whole season, even though he had morning skate and a game the next day. You watched it together again over FaceTime the next weekend, and then it became a standing date. You argued more than once when Nate watched an episode or two without you, but it always ended with smiles and a promise that he wouldn’t do it again. Cox seemed overjoyed that his people were back together, and he always met you at Nate’s front door, his whole body wagging with excitement.

Mel finally convinced you to come over for a girls night while the Avs were on their California trip. You had been lied to a little bit, as you had been under the impression that all of the girls would be over, but when you showed up at the Landeskog’s house, it was just Mel and Linnea, a box of pizza, and a bottle of your favorite wine.

“I was led here under false pretenses,” you griped, but you gave Linnea a kiss and swiped a piece of pizza, anyway.

“Is this a good idea? What we’re doing?” you asked Mel during the second intermission. Mel took a drink of her wine instead of answering. “Mel, answer me, please,” you begged, poking her with your foot.

Mel pursed her lips, eyes carefully focused on the TV. “I’m not going to pretend to know what’s good for either of you,” she said. “But I do know that you’ve both been happier since Christmas. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I were you. But Nate seems like he’s trying so hard, and he’s been asking Gabe for advice all the time. If anything, I think he’s proved that he’s willing to try to change, and I think he’s done a pretty good job at it, too.”

You rubbed Zoey’s ears thoughtfully. “The longer we try to fix this, the more normal it seems. It’s not stilted or awkward anymore. I’m just afraid I’m going to get comfortable again, and I won’t be able to come back from all of this a second time.”

“For what it’s worth,” Mel said, finishing her wine. “Gabe and EJ tell me that he won’t ever go out with the team after games on the road, anymore. Some shit about wanting to set a good example for the younger guys, but even Cale goes out every once in a while.”

You thought about the last time you had seen Cale drunk, all rosy cheeks and awkward limbs, and giggled; Nate had been responsible for getting him home, and he’d ended up crashing in your guest room, and then he laid around all day nursing a hangover. Then you thought about how Nate had started FaceTiming you from hotel rooms again, always at the exact same time, without fail. Maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised that Nate had sworn off the dive bars they went to in every city.

The game started back up, and you and Mel refocused, letting the conversation die in favor of yelling at the TV.

You started going to games more often again, not every game, but as many as you could handle. You were no longer anxious every time you stood waiting for Nate in the hallway after a game, and he still shot you one of those small, shy smiles every time he saw you. You always told him when you’d be at games now, but he seemed to be surprised every time he saw you outside the locker room, like you would decide you’d had enough, would give up on him. You went out with the boys a couple of times, too, after some particularly fun wins. Nate stuck close to you the entire night those times, plastered to your side, keeping an eye on you when you went to dance or get another drink.

You heard the boys chirping him about it when they thought you weren’t listening. It was all gentle really, teasing him for guarding you, the old comments about how gone he was for you. You liked the way he blushed all the way up to his ears when they teased him.

Every time you got ready for your game, the jersey in the back of your closet seemed to be taunting you. The girls were getting less subtle about the looks they gave you when you showed up to games without it. At least you had dug your Avs baseball cap out.

It was nearing the end of the season, and the Avs were still sitting comfortably at the top of the Conference, just cruising into the playoffs. It was the middle of March before you looked at that jersey with the A on the front and MacKinnon sprawled across the back and tugged it off the hanger and over your head.

Mel didn’t say anything when you climbed into her car, but you saw the small smile before she turned and started driving again.

The Avs ended up losing. Nate looked dejected when he came out of the locker room, but then he glanced up and saw you standing there in his jersey; he did a double take before you were being swept up in his arms.

Nate hugged you tightly, pressing his face into your hair. You could hear the rest of the boys coming out of the locker room, but the world condensed until it was just you and Nate, wrapped up in each other, warm and safe. You didn’t want to pull away.

Eventually, EJ yelled something about sharing your attention, and you broke apart. Nate had knocked your hat off in his haste, and you quickly dried the few tears that had slipped out as he bent to pick it up. Nate placed it backwards on your head and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I was afraid I’d never get to see you wearing my number again,” he whispered before EJ was on you.

This year, when April rolled around, the Avalanche didn’t go home quietly to lick their wounds and recover. No, they were back in the playoffs, and they were back with a vengeance.

“Hey, you’ll- will you come to the playoff games?” Nate asked one afternoon just before Round One started.

You were lying on his couch with Cox on your chest. You both looked up at Nate’s words, and you craned your neck around to see Nate better where he was standing behind you.

“Do you want me to come to the games?” you asked, a little confused. Nate shuffled his feet and shoved his hands deeper into his sweatpant pockets.

“Only if you want to,” he muttered.

You turned fully then, causing Cox to jump off and pout at you. You reached out and grabbed one of Nate’s wrists and pulled him closer to you. He towered over you from your spot on the couch.

“I will be at every single game, and I will be cheering for you while wearing your name across my back,” you told him. Nate blinked down at you. You squeezed his hand and stood up. Nate was still staring after you as you walked out of the living room.

If someone had asked you in August or even October where you’d be if the Avs made it to the playoffs, you could’ve never told them the right answer. You could have never imagined that you would be walking into Pepsi Center for Game 1 against the Oilers, much less that you had been looking forward to this night for days. Your coworkers had all made fun of you that morning because you hadn’t been able to focus at all. They even caught you smiling at your phone when Nate had texted you around lunchtime, telling you how excited he was to see you after the game.

You weren’t going to live that down any time soon.

You changed into your jersey before leaving work, drove straight to the Pepsi Center, and made it just in time to catch some of warm-ups. Mel pulled you aside as soon as you had said your hellos to everyone and thrust a denim playoff jacket with MacKinnon on the back at you.

“Mel,” you warned.

“Shut up,” she said, shaking the jacket at you. “I know you two still have some issues, but you are dating again, so you’re wearing the fucking jacket.”

You stuck your tongue out at Mel, but took the jacket. It was cute, you thought, looking closer at it. And it was true, you were still moving slowly, but you were technically dating Nate. Mel was still looking pointedly at you with her arms crossed, so you sighed and tugged the jacket on over your jersey.

The other girls all squealed when you rejoined them, and you lost track of the number of pictures that were taken. You didn’t hesitate to edit your favorites and post them to your Instagram, MacKinnon proudly spread across your shoulders.

They won, but it was close, and chippy and chirpy as playoff games always were. The boys on the ice were feeding off the energy of the crowd, and the crowd was feeding off the energy of the boys. It was a fight, but the Avalanche left the ice with a win at the end of the night.

The energy was still high, but carefully controlled, by the time all the families made it down to the locker room. One of the double doors stood ajar, and through it you could see the boys bouncing around, all in various states of undress, blasting music and yelling.

Nate was still grinning when he finally made his way out to you. He wrapped you up in a hug without taking a good look at you, but when he let you go, he caught sight of the jacket you were still wearing. He grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you around once before twisting you to face him again.

“Jesus, Mack, you’re making me dizzy, babe,” you laughed.

Nate just hugged you again, this time tighter than the last.

The series with the Oilers went to seven games, because of course it did. You were starting to suspect that at least three different Avalanche players were secretly nursing injuries, but ignoring them, because of course they were.

Nate asked you to come over the night before Game 7. He was quiet while he cooked dinner, and even your forced attempts at conversation while you ate fell flat. When Nate stood up and dropped his plate into the sink with a clatter, you jumped up and grabbed his arm, made him face you.

“Nate, I’m not doing this again. You asked me to come over, I’m here, and you’re all shut down like you were all last year.” Something like pain and sadness flashed across Nate’s face. “So you’re either going to talk to me, or I’m going home,” you said.

Nate rubbed a hand across his face, and he suddenly looked very tired. “I know, I’m sorry, fuck, I’m just worried.”

You wrapped your arms around Nate’s waist and felt him lean into you. “Do you wanna watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine?”

Nate nodded and let you lead him into the living room, but pulled his phone out as soon as he sat down. You had a feeling he was rereading scouting reports again.

“Nope,” you said, plucking his phone out of his hands and locking it. Nate gaped at you for a second before he lunged. You held the phone behind your back, but Nate grabbed you around the waist and threw you onto the couch. He grinned down at you for a moment before he was tickling you, making you giggle and squirm.

“Nate, stop!” you gasped. “You’re not gonna get your phone back.”

Nate paused, his eyes looking deep into yours. He was still leaning over you, your legs twisted together, and you could feel his breath against your cheeks. He pressed a kiss to your nose.

You found yourself wanting to close the distance between you, kiss Nate for real, but you weren’t sure if you were there yet.

He hovered over you for a minute more in silence; you hardly dared to breathe. And then Cox barked at something outside, and the moment was over. Nate rolled off of you, but he tugged you up until you were cuddled into his side.

It was another close game the next night, but the team always seemed to play better at home, when the screaming crowd was screaming for them, not against. You watched anxiously as Nate stood on the blue line during the anthems, shuffling his skates back and forth, but he seemed calm, focused.

When the final buzzer sounded, and the Avs won, you were already on your feet with the rest of Pepsi Center; you weren’t sure you had sat down the entire game.

You jumped into Nate’s arms outside of the locker room, his teammates’ shouts echoing off of the walls around you.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered.

The Avs went down 2-0 to start the second round. You hadn’t been able to make it to the second game because you got stuck at work late, but you had watched from home; you wore your MacKinnon jersey, even though no one was around to see you. It wasn’t a pretty game, either. The Avs had been sloppy and took a lot of penalties, and you could see Nate’s frustration through your TV.

You weren’t surprised, then, when Nate showed up at your apartment door, still in his game-day suit, but looking rumpled and more than a little upset. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to, because you just turned and let him follow you into your apartment.

“Do you want food?” you asked. “I doubt I have anything diet approved, but there’s ice cream and popcorn.”

But Nate shook his head, kicking off his dress shoes and stripping his suit jacket. “Can I change?” he asked instead, holding up a small bag you hadn’t even noticed at first.

You just nodded and settled on the couch to wait while Nate made his way to your bathroom. When he came back in a hoodie and sweatpants, he looked distinctly less stiff, but there was still something like pain in his eyes.

“C’mere,” you said softly, tugging him onto the couch with you. You let Nate maneuver the two of you until you were on your back with Nate squarely on your chest, your arms wrapped around his shoulders. Only then could you feel some of the tension in his back and shoulders start to disappear.

The minutes passed in silence for a while before Nate spoke. “Did you watch?”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, idly rubbing Nate’s back in circles.

“Was it as bad as it seemed on the ice?”

You paused. “Worse. You guys were a mess,” you said honestly. Nate sighed and pressed his face deeper into your chest. “What happened? We all know you guys are better than that.”

Nate shrugged as best as he could from his position on top of you. Honestly, he made for a great weighted blanket, but he was starting to crush you a little. “Would you come to the games this weekend? If I got you a plane ticket?” he asked suddenly. “I know you have to work on Friday, and you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but-”

You moved your hand into Nate’s hair, and he stopped talking. When he lifted his head and rested his chin on your collarbone, he looked nervous. You carded your fingers through his hair, once, twice, watching Nate’s eyes close before you answered with a question of your own. “Do you want me there?” you asked. It wasn’t the first time you had asked Nate this question since the playoffs had started, but you needed to hear the words straight from his mouth. Needed to hear him say he wanted you, needed you, that whatever was happening between you wasn’t one-sided.

This time, Nate didn’t look away from your eyes when he answered you. “Yes.”

You insisted that Nate stay the night, although he didn’t put up much of a fight. You had eventually turned on a movie, and he had started smiling more, but you could still see the desolate look in his eyes. You had seen a lot of that look last season.

You were laying in the dark, both of you on your sides facing each other. Nate’s eyes were closed, but you could tell he wasn’t asleep yet. You were busy tracing the lines in his forehead, his jawline hidden beneath the playoff beard, wondering what he would do if you reached out for real and touched his face, when he asked you a question.

“Do you think we can do this?” His eyes were open now, that blue you loved so much clouded with doubt.

You did reach out and touch Nate’s face then, brushing your thumb across the creases in his forehead and then his cheek. “I know you can do this,” you said confidently. That confidence must have shown through in your voice, because Nate lifted his hand to yours and smiled at you.

You fell asleep holding hands.

St. Louis was hot. It was still only late spring, but it was humid as hell as soon as you stepped off the plane. You had managed to take Friday off, and Nate had pulled some strings to get you a room in the team hotel on short notice, but you still had to fly in and Uber to the hotel on your own.

Nate hugged you hello, but it was Burky who dragged you off to take a pregame nap with him. You grinned at Nate over your shoulder, and you were pleased that he looked distinctly disgruntled.

Enterprise Center was just as loud as the Pepsi Center had been during Round 1. You stood out in your burgundy jersey in a mass of blue. You got some looks as you made your way through the concourse towards your seat. You wondered vaguely if Nate had to call in any favors with Brayden or Ryan to get you tickets to the games. You weren’t sure when you had last been to a hockey game without the rest of the Avs’ WAGs by your side; it felt strange to be alone.

Nate’s eyes searched the crowd during warm-ups. He finally found you and smiled stupidly at you, until Burky went flying into him, and they both went sprawling.

The Avalanche won, 3-0 in a game that silenced the crowd at Enterprise.

Nate hadn’t been able to get you a VIP pass, so you made your way out onto the street with the rest of the fans, except you were the only one excited that the Blues had lost. Nate texted you while you waited for an Uber: “wait up for me at the hotel?”

You smiled down at your phone. “of course.”

You were still in the hotel lobby when the team poured off the bus. They were loud still, and you could tell that they were lighter than they had been earlier that night. EJ beat everyone else over to you.

“Y/N, you’re officially our good luck charm, and you’re never allowed to miss another game,” he told you.

You laughed and leaned into EJ’s side. “I’ll be sure to tell my work that,” you said.

EJ rested his chin on the top of your head as you both watched several of his teammates play-fight near the doors. “Who knows, maybe they’ll thank you for it.”

Nate made his way over to the two of you. He was laughing at something Gravy was saying, and you took a moment to look at how his eyes crinkled when he laughed like that.

“Trying to steal my girl, Eej?” he asked, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You tried not to think about how pleased it made you feel to hear Nate call you his girl again.

“Always,” EJ replied easily, but let you go to follow Nate to the elevators.

As the doors closed behind you, Nate pulled you close. “Thank you for coming tonight,” he mumbled.

You tilted your head up to look at him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else right now,” you told him, and you meant it.

You dragged a bunch of the boys to the zoo the next morning. JT sat on a bench in the butterfly house long enough that a butterfly landed on his hat. Josty, on the other hand, was weirdly fascinated by all of the insects, and you had to tell him more than once not to run inside. EJ and Cale complained until you went into the penguin house. You had to tell Z that he was almost certainly too big to fit on the train, but you couldn’t convince any of them that they couldn’t go on the carousel; they insisted you go on it with them. You took a great video of a highly-amused Burky playing with the seals at the glass.

Nate held your hand the entire time you walked. When you pulled your phone out to take the video of Burky, you found that you had several texts from the boys, all pictures of you and Nate. Nate tugging your hand to go look at the elephants. Nate smiling at you while you laughed at Tyson. Nate reaching for you while you sat next to him on the carousel.

You saved all of them to your camera roll.

The Avs won the next night, too, and suddenly the series was tied. Nate asked you to come to his hotel room after the game, and you both fell asleep while watching a movie.

The Pepsi Center was deafening on the night of Game 5, and soon the Avs were up 3-2 in the series, instead of being on the verge of elimination. The team was playing with a new energy, too, and you thought they may have been yelling louder than the crowd when Mikko scored to end it in overtime.

They went back to St. Louis, and Nate FaceTimed you from his hotel room. You could hear EJ and Gabe arguing over what to order from room service in the background.

“I miss you,” Nate said when you answered the call.

“We miss you, too!” Gabe yelled from somewhere on the other side of the room. Nate rolled his eyes.

When EJ flopped down on the bed next to Nate, he groaned, but let him rest his head on his shoulder to talk to you too.

You watched alone from your couch as they fought through Game 6. You stopped breathing for a while when Cale took a bad hit and disappeared off the bench for part of the second period, but he came back and scored a goal during his first shift. Burky scored a goal, too, and you thought for a minute he was going to fight Brayden Schenn until Nate stepped in. The game was still tied going into the third, and then it was halfway through the third, and then suddenly the puck was flying off Naz’s stick and landing neatly in the net behind Binnington.

Your scream might have woken a few neighbors.

Nate FaceTimed you from the locker room, and soon your screen was filled with the sweaty, but happy, faces of the boys, all clamoring to say hi to you. Nate eventually fought them off, and it was just him and his broad shoulders on your phone, and you wished you were there to hug him.

You all watched from Gabe’s house as San Jose beat the Flames in 7, and the Conference Finals became a rematch of the 2019 playoffs.

André got injured in Game 1, some lower body thing that had probably been bothering him for weeks, but eventually his leg gave out on the ice. He showed up at your apartment door the way Nate had in the second round.

“Nate said something about comfort cuddles?” was what he said when you pulled open your door and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Come in here, you idiot,” you said.

You tried not to notice how he limped through your doorway and into your living room. He flopped gracelessly onto your couch, curls peeking out from underneath his baseball hat.

“Do you want junk food?” you asked as he pouted at you. He nodded, still shooting you sad looks as he clutched a pillow to his chest. You sighed at him, shaking your head fondly, and went to retrieve a tub of cookie dough ice cream from the fridge and a couple spoons from the drawer.

You threw the spoon at Burky, and he caught it, a small smirk on his face now. “You eat ice cream out of the tub often?” he asked.

“How do you think I got through breaking up with Nate?” you replied, peeling off the lid and digging out a chunk of cookie dough with your spoon.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see André’s face fall, and he winced; you didn’t think it was because of the injury. “Shit, sorry,” he murmured, reaching across you to get his own spoonful of ice cream. He dropped his head to rest on your shoulder. “He talks about you all the time, y’know. He always used to, but it stopped last season, and we never knew why. Then all of a sudden after Christmas, it started again.” You ate your ice cream thoughtfully. “He’s so much happier now. We could have the worst fucking game ever, but he knows he has you again, so it’s okay.”

You rested your head on top of Burky’s. “I wasn’t sure this was a good idea. But, fuck, it feels good, it feels right, Bura.”

Burky hummed; his spoon scraped the bottom of the cardboard carton. “You’re out of ice cream,” he said. You flicked his nose. “I’m glad you’re back. We missed you,” he added softly.

You knocked his hat off so you could play with his curls. They were grown out, and honestly you would take any excuse to play with them. He melted into you as you carded your fingers through his hair. He looked young sitting there on your couch, and you had to remind yourself that he was older than Nate, that he’d already won a Cup with the Caps.

André came over again to watch Game 2 with you, instead of watching alone from the press box. You sat curled into his chest on the couch, until Gabe scored a goal and he jumped up, knocking you off his lap and onto the floor. You had pouted at him as he helped you up, laughing his ass off, but from then on you just stretched your feet into his lap.

The Avs had won Games 1 and 2, and you could all feel the tension and frustration that San Jose was facing– you had all felt it yourselves just a couple of weeks before. Ashley’s nails dug into your arm as you watched Naz mouthing off to a Sharks player, his old beef with Joe Thornton spilling over, about to drop the gloves, but the refs stepped in– a couple of you booed a little, but Ashley’s grip just tightened– and it was over. Except it wasn’t, because then Naz got hit behind the play, and you were starting to think Ashley was drawing blood, even as Naz got up, albeit a little slowly, a little dazed. It wasn’t until he came back onto the ice for his next shift that she let go, but she did also sigh and say, “I need a stronger drink,” before swallowing the last of her wine in one big gulp.

They split the road games. The team plane landed in Denver in the late afternoon, and Nate came straight to your apartment to pick up Cox. He ended up coming inside and accidentally took a nap with you on the couch. He stayed for dinner, too, and only left reluctantly at the end of the night.

Nate scored a hat trick in Game 5. You flung your hat down onto the ice with the rest of Pepsi Center, screaming with Mel as Gabe and Mikko tackled him to the ice. There was still time left on the clock, but it didn’t matter, because the game was as good as won.

The Colorado Avalanche were going to the Stanley Cup Finals.

Nate swept you up in a giant hug outside the locker room, spinning you around and squeezing you until you couldn’t breathe, but you never wanted to let go.

You reached up to cup his cheek– and that playoff beard that was still going very strong– and beamed at him. “I told you you could do this,” you told him, just see his grin turn shy. “And you owe me a new hat.”

“I will buy you any hat you want,” Nate promised, but then Josty swept past you and jammed a hat on your head. You took it off to look at it: Western Conference Champions. “But I kinda like the way that one looks on you.

Nate asked you to come over the next night to watch the Eastern Conference Finals, Pens against the Flyers. He paced around the house through the entire pregame show, and you and Cox watched him, bemused, from the couch.

“You good over there, babe?” you asked as Nate stood next to you and looked anywhere but the TV.

“What if I don’t want the Pens to win this?” he blurted. You raised an eyebrow at him. “You know I love Sid, but I don’t know if I could handle facing him in the Finals.”

You laughed a little and made him sit down on the couch next to you. “I’m sure Sid will forgive you,” you told him.

He may not have wanted to face off against his best friend and childhood hero in the Cup Finals, but that didn’t stop him from cheering when Sid scored a goal, or cussing out Konecny for a dirty hit. It didn’t matter, though, because no matter how fast or angry the Pens were, the Flyers were faster and angrier. The Pens weren’t about to go down without a fight, but an empty net goal from Giroux with less than a minute left sealed their fate. Nate texted Sid an apology while you watched the teams shake hands on the ice, and you knew he meant it, but you could also see how he relaxed for the first time all night.

Sid showed up in Denver with Nate’s family just before the Cup Finals started.

“Didn’t feel like going home yet,” was the only excuse he offered, but you both knew how much it meant to Nate that he was there.

Nate’s family stayed in a hotel, but Sid moved into the guest bedroom. A bunch of your things had started to migrate from your apartment and into that guest room, so you carried them into Nate’s bedroom. Nate watched with his arms crossed from the doorway, pretending to be stoic, but his cheeks were pink.

You were in the kitchen later, making lunch, when Nate came in and hovered near you. You bumped him out of the way with your hip.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

“Do you wanna just stay over here during the Finals?” he mumbled, fidgeting with the drawstring on his hoodie. “It’ll be easier, since you’re going to all the games and stuff, to just come over here at the end of the night.”

You looked up at him; he looked back at you from underneath his eyelashes. “Sure,” you replied, going back to making your lunch. You already had a toothbrush at Nate’s, anyway. “I’ll have to go get some clothes later, though.”

Nate mumbled a “Cool,” before kissing the top of your head and leaving.

Sid came in a minute later and raised his eyebrows at you. You just pointed your knife threateningly at him.

You had never seen the Pepsi Center so loud. The noise had been deafening throughout the playoffs, but it had reached a fever pitch for the Cup Finals. Even when it was quiet, it wasn’t silent, a constant buzz of excited voices filling the arena.

You stood with the rest of the WAGs, in your jersey and denim jacket, Nate’s family and Sid by your side, and you caught yourself thinking that this was somewhere you wanted to be for the rest of your life.

They lost Game 1, but Nate still smiled when you met him outside the locker room. He and EJ were both moving gingerly after a weird three-way collision with a Flyers player in the second. EJ still wrapped you in a hug, though, even if he groaned when Sammy plastered himself across his back.

“You’re supposed to be our good luck charm, Y/N, what the fuck?” he teased. You dug your elbow into his bruised ribs in response. “Geez, I forgot how mean you are to all of us,” he said, rubbing his side.

Nate laughed, settled his hands on your hips. You stuck your tongue out at EJ.

“Wanna head home?” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Want me to drive?” you asked. Josty, who was walking past, stopped and raised his eyebrows, but JT dragged him away. Nate just pressed his keys into your hand.

Nate wasn’t quiet on the drive home like you’d expected. He didn’t stop talking from the time the car door closed behind him until you pulled into his driveway. He complained about the Flyers, the refs, his own playing. It had been a while since Nate just let himself complain about hockey to you. It was nice to hear it again.

Nate pulled you close in the dark that night, and you fell asleep wrapped up in his arms, wearing one of his T-shirts.

When they won Game 2, you thought the Can was going to explode.

The team plane left the next morning for Philadelphia. All of the wives and girlfriends piled onto a plane of your own and followed them. You took a nap in Nate’s hotel room in a pile with Cale and Burky while Nate watched film.

The Flyers seemed more powerful in front of their own crowd. They hit harder and chirped meaner, and all of their fans in orange yelled for them. Nate left after a slash to the wrist in Game 3, and the Flyers used that to their advantage. He was back the next night, but the Flyers still took both home games.

Nate was tense when you made it home to Denver. You and Sid shared looks behind his back when he came home late from skate, or sat down immediately after dinner to watch game film again. He was still icing his wrist.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Sid whispered to you as you both stood in the hallway and looked in on Nate. He had the TV on and his iPad in his lap and gave absolutely no indication that he knew you were watching him.

“I had to do this all last season,” you hissed back. “It’s your turn, Crosby!”

“You’re his girlfriend!”

“You’re his best friend!”

“I can hear you two,” Nate called, his eyes still not leaving the video in front of him. Okay, maybe your whispered argument with Sid wasn’t as quiet as you’d thought it was. “What time is it?”

Sid said, “Late,” at the same time you said, “Bedtime.” You looked at each other and tried not to burst out giggling. Nate sighed, but he turned off the TV and tossed his iPad onto the couch cushions.

“I’ll meet you upstairs, yeah?” he said, kissing your forehead and holding up the now-melted ice pack he’d been using. You must’ve given him a skeptical look, because he chuckled and added, “I promise. And I’m sorry, I lost track of time.”

You used Nate’s shoulder for balance as you stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. As much as you loved the beard and the playoffs, you couldn’t wait for him to shave; you were getting tired of kissing that.

If the Flyers thought they would have it easy coming back to Denver, that the Avalanche would go down without a fight, they were very much mistaken. In fact, there was an actual fight early in Game 5, between Farabee and Calvert, over who knows what, but it was enough to energize the Avs straight to 6 goals. They took the next game in Philly, too, though the score was a lot closer.

Soon, you were back in Denver, and it was the day before Game 7. Nate was quiet all day, and you and Sid mostly left him to himself. He went to practice, and you went to lunch with Sarah. You came home, and Nate was heading out for a run.

You were taking your laundry out of the dryer and resigning yourself to going to bed alone when Nate came and found you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pressing himself along your back and burying his face in your neck. You rested your hands on his and leaned back into him

When he spoke, his beard tickled your neck. “I’m sorry I’ve been shitty, I’m just- what if we can’t win this?”

You turned in Nate’s arms and wrapped your arms around his neck. You were still holding one of his socks. “No matter what happens tomorrow night, your family will still love you. Your team will still love you. Denver will still love you. I will still love you.” You pressed a kiss to Nate’s temple.

You stood there, in the middle of the laundry room, for several more minutes. When Nate pulled back, his eyes were shining, but neither of you said anything more.

Later that night, you pulled Nate into your chest in bed, letting him be the little spoon. He sighed contentedly and relaxed into you. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

As you were drifting off to sleep, you heard Nate whisper, “I love you, too.”

When Nate left for the game the next afternoon, he didn’t kiss you, but it was a near thing. You weren’t sure what was holding you back anymore. You liked that Nate seemed to be waiting for you to decide.

Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final was the most stressed you’d ever felt. You wanted to live in the moment forever.

Sid sat next to you and let you squeeze his arm when you got nervous. Mel was on your other side, and she smacked you every time Nate or Gabe touched the puck, which was often, as if your eyes weren’t glued to the ice every second. Someone brought you a beer during the first intermission, but it went mostly untouched.

The game was a tame one, or about as tame as a Game 7 in the Stanley Cup Finals could be. Penalties went uncalled, and tempers were flaring. It was tied going into the second, and then again going into the third, even though both teams scored two more goals in the second period. Your hand was beginning to cramp from where you held onto Sid’s forearm, but all he did was take your hand in his after a while; you kept squeezing until you were sure even his fingers were numb.

And then Giroux high-sticked Gabe and made him bleed. There was no looking the other way from that, Giroux was sent to the box with a double minor, and suddenly the Avs were on a power play halfway through the third period. They didn’t need the full four minutes, though. They didn’t even need a full minute before Nate was on a breakaway, and the puck was up above Hart’s shoulder and safely in the net between one breath and the next.

You screamed with the rest of Pepsi Center, but yours were mixed with a few tears, too.

You still didn’t relax, felt like you couldn’t breathe, because it wasn’t over until that final buzzer.

You watched the clock tick down above center ice. Twenty seconds; you were on the edge of your seat. Ten seconds; you were on your feet. Five seconds; you were screaming. Zero seconds; you were hugging Mel and Sid and anyone else you could get your arms around.

You weren’t sure if you were screaming or crying, anymore. Nate looked up to where you were sitting, and you were sure you’d never seen him smile that big before.

The Flyers filed off the ice, and you spared a half second to feel bad, because they had wanted this just as badly, but then you saw Nate and André hugging and yelling in each other’s faces. You thought about everything you’d gone through the last two seasons, and you thought that, just maybe, the Avalanche deserved this.

A hush fell over the arena as Gabe skated over to pick up the Cup, but it exploded again as he lifted it over his head for the first time. When he handed it off to Nate next, and Nate kissed it before lifting it over his head, you were definitely crying, but you also couldn’t stop smiling.

Everyone insisted that you come down to the ice, though a part of you wondered if you still counted, if you deserved to be there, too. Nate was hanging off of EJ when you stepped onto the ice with his parents, but he looked up and saw you. His face split into an even bigger grin than before. Without thinking, really, you launched yourself at Nate, and then you were both tumbling to the ice.

Nate was sweaty and still entirely in all of his pads, but his arms were wrapped around you and that was all that mattered. You thought he was going to kiss you lying there on the ice, but he didn’t, just helped you up and let you latch onto him again.

“I am so fucking proud of you, Nathan MacKinnon,” you yelled in his ear, standing at center ice.

Nate went home to Cole Harbour, and you stayed in Denver. Except this summer, he texted you every day and called you most nights. From his couch with Cox by his side, from the dock under the stars, from Sid’s deck with a couple of beers. Not a day went by where you didn’t talk to Nate.

You missed him, and you loved him, but this summer it was different. You wished you’d told him before he left, but there had been parties, and a parade, and a lot of alcohol, and it had never seemed like the right time. So you’d stayed quiet, resisted the urge to kiss Nate in front of all of Denver, to tell the world that he was yours, that your heart was his.

You missed him, and you loved him, and you had to hold yourself back from ending every phone call with those three words, because he was in another country halfway across the continent, and it wouldn’t feel right to say it unless you were in his arms.

You wondered if he knew, when you fell silent on FaceTime and just watched him talk with a smile on your face. You wondered if he could see the love in your eyes again, if it had ever really gone away.

You wondered if, somehow, you’d missed your chance.

Nate’s day with the Cup came in the beginning of August. He asked if you would come. You told him you couldn’t get off work.

You booked a plane ticket to Halifax.

You made Sid come pick you up from the airport. He didn’t love that he was being forced to keep a secret from Nate, but he gave you a warm hug when he saw you anyway.

“Do you know what you’re gonna say?” he asked after you’d climbed into his truck and were making your way towards Nate’s house.

You laughed. Sid had rolled the windows down, and your hair blew out the window and into the August air. “Nope. I’ve been thinking about this all summer, I flew all the way out here, and I have no clue what I’m going to say to Nate. ‘Surprise? I love you!’ What if he doesn’t even want me here?”

Sid scoffed. You turned to glare at him. “I have had to listen to Nate complain every single day that you’re not here. It got worse after you lied and told him that you weren’t coming for tomorrow. At one point, he even pretended to be offended that you wouldn’t even come for my birthday.” He took his eyes off the road to look at you. “Nate wants you here, Y/N. Hell, I think you’re the only person he wants here.”

You played with your necklace; it was the necklace Nate had given you a lifetime ago. Sid’s gaze followed your fingers. “I just wasn’t sure for so long, Sid. What if I made him wait too long? What if he moved on?”

“I promise you, he hasn’t. I don’t think he ever would.”

Sid pulled up in front of Nate’s house then, put his truck in park, turned to look at you. You didn’t move. The sun was just starting to set over the lake, turning the sky gold and pink.

“Get out of my car, Y/N,” Sid said softly. “He’s probably around back.”

You sighed one last time and unbuckled your seatbelt, closing the car door softly behind you. You made your way quietly around the house, hoping Cox wouldn’t bark at you. You found Nate sitting in an adirondack chair near the water and started to head towards him when you had an idea.

You pulled your phone out and opened Nate’s contact. You didn’t hesitate before pressing the call button. You heard his FaceTime ring once, twice before the call connected and his face filled your phone screen.

“Hey, Y/N! I was just about to call you actually,” Nate said, grinning at you.

You suddenly hoped that you didn’t look like too much of a mess after your five hour flight.

Nate squinted at his phone, at you. “Where are you? The sun shouldn’t be setting in Denver yet.”

“Huh? Oh, I’m, uh, not in Denver,” you said. Nate looked confused; you had started walking towards him again, were nearly right behind him.

You would make fun of him for not realizing you were standing right behind him later.

“Then where-” Nate cut himself off. He jumped up from his chair and spun around, finally saw you standing there. There, in Cole Harbour.

You barely had time to hang up the call before Nate was tackling you to the grass in a hug.

“Oof, Nate, babe, you’re crushing me a little.”

“Don’t care. You’re here!” Nate said back. Then he pushed himself up a little, rested his weight on his hands. “You’re here. What’re you doing here? I thought you said-“

You laughed, and it echoed off the quiet lake. “I decided to surprise you.”

Nate brushed your hair out of your face and rested his hand on your cheek before dipping back down and pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re really here.”

You turned your head to kiss his palm. “Yeah, Nate. I’m here.”

Nate smiled dumbly down at you for a few more minutes. If you didn’t look a mess before, you certainly did now, sprawled out on the ground in sweatpants and a T-shirt, grass in your hair. You raised your own hand to cup Nate’s cheek. He closed his eyes and tilted his head, rested it against your palm.

The sun was still setting, and you could see the sky turning colors over his head. Nate rolled off of you and settled in the grass next to you. You reached over and grabbed his hand, twining your fingers together. Above you, the sky was all kinds of pinks and purples and blues.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said. Nate stiffened next to you. “I asked you to be patient with me. I said I couldn’t jump in headfirst. And you’ve been so good, so sweet. You’ve let me make all the decisions this time around. And you’ve waited on me for so long.”

“I would wait forever,” Nate breathed. You huffed out a laugh.

“Well, here’s the thing.” Nate looked away from the sky for the first time since you started talking and looked over at you. You rolled, pushing yourself up to straddle Nate’s hips. He propped himself up on his elbows, and you rested your hands on his shoulders, looking into Nate’s eyes. He looked apprehensive, but quietly hopeful. “I’m done waiting. I love you, Nate. I’m not sure I ever stopped. I needed you to prove that I could believe in you again. And, God, that’s all you’ve done since Christmas. From Cox, to the FaceTimes, to all of our little dates. Through the playoffs. I spent all summer wishing I’d said something before you left, stopping myself from saying something every time we talked on the phone.”

Nate’s hands had come up to rest on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles on your skin underneath your T-shirt. He still was looking at you like everything you were saying was too good to be true.

“Can I kiss you now?” he asked.

You had enough time to nod and laugh before Nate was leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours. It was familiar and new and exhilarating all at once. It felt like coming home.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d kissed Nate, or how long you’d been wanting, dreaming, wishing for it again. It didn’t matter anymore, though, because Nate was squeezing your hips and kissing you slowly, deeply. Like he had all the time in the world. Like he never wanted to be doing anything else.

He eventually pulled away for air, resting his forehead against yours, your breaths mixing in the small space between you.

“I love you so much, Y/N. And I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to do that again.” He kissed you again, just a quick peck. “And now I’m never, ever gonna stop.” He started pressing kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, before coming back and kissing your lips again.

The sun had set fully by now, and you shivered. Nate was still radiating heat, and he rubbed his hands over your bare arms.

“Do you wanna go inside?” he asked. You shook your head, tilting your head back to look up at the stars as they appeared. “Okay, well let me go get you a sweatshirt or a blanket or something.” He tapped your thigh, and you climbed off his lap and stretched.

Nate made his way back up to the house, and you wandered out to the end of the dock. The water was warm when you dipped your feet in.

It wasn’t more than a couple of minutes before you heard Nate’s footsteps in the grass again. You turned and saw him carrying a familiar sweatshirt from your college.

“Hey, wait that’s mine!” you said.

Nate blushed. “I, uh, found it last summer, and never really gave it back.”

You grinned at Nate as you pulled the sweatshirt over your head. It smelled like him. “I just thought I left it at your house, and you got rid of it or something. But apparently you’ve been wearing it,” you teased.

Nate blushed darker. “I sleep with it, sometimes,” he admitted. “It doesn’t smell like you anymore, but I still like it.”

You laughed. “Aw, you really are going soft, Mack.”

Nate just grabbed your hand and tugged you closer so he could kiss you again.

“I really believed you when you said you weren’t coming for tomorrow, y’know,” Nate said quietly. “I was trying to figure out how I’d fucked up, what I’d done to make you pull away.”

You rested your head on his shoulder and played with his hand in your lap. “I always wanted to be here for your day with the Cup. I need you to know, to understand, how proud of you I am, how proud of you I’ve always been. At first, I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to come-” Nate scoffed; you elbowed him. “But then I started figuring out how I could surprise you. Besides, I missed this place.” You waved your hand vaguely towards Nate’s house and the lake. “And you, I guess,” you added.

Nate bumped your head with his shoulder. “How did you get here, anyway?” he asked.

“Sid,” you said simply.

Nate groaned. “I hate him. He told me he couldn’t golf today because he got guilted into spending time with Taylor!”

You both fell silent, just watching the stars and listening to the cicadas and frogs.

“Hey, what did you wish for on that shooting star we saw?” you asked suddenly, your head still resting on Nate’s shoulder.

Nate looked confused for a moment before he softened. “This,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I wanted exactly this, for you to be happy, for us to be together.” You looked up at him, and he kissed you softly again. “Winning the Cup was a nice bonus,” he added, grinning at you.

You shoved at Nate, but it didn’t really do much. “You’re an idiot,” you said, but you were smiling fondly at him, so it kind of ruined the effect.

“Yeah, but you love me,” he responded, pulling you into a sideways hug.

“Yeah,” you said. “I do.”

You fell asleep next to Nate, which wasn’t new, but the kiss he gave you before you closed your eyes was.

You spent the next day with Nate, his family, and the Cup. Sid took every opportunity to talk about how good Nate is, how proud he was. You were pretty sure it was mostly just to see how flustered Nate got every single time. How he’d splutter and blush and struggle to change the subject, but someone always brought it back to hockey, because how could you not, when you were standing next to the Stanley Cup? Whenever Nate wasn’t holding the Cup with both hands, his hand was in yours, or on your hip, or at the small of your back. He would never admit it, but you could tell he was absolutely having the time of his life, basking in the glory and the attention. No longer just the second best thing to come out of Cole Harbour, if even for a moment. For the first time, Nate was in the spotlight.

And you were right by his side the whole time, in every picture, in every memory.

That night, after everyone had gone home and the Cup had moved on, you sat next to Nate on the couch with Cox as he went through pictures that had been taken that day. Ten minutes later, your phone lit up with an Instagram notification: @mackinnnon29 tagged you in a post. You looked sideways at Nate, but his phone was down and his eyes were on the TV. You unlocked your phone.

There were two pictures on the post. Both were of you and Nate, the Cup hoisted high over his head, glinting in the sun. In the first you were just gazing up at Nate while he grinned down at you, a loving smile of your own on your face; in the second, you were kissing, your hand on his shoulder.

His caption was simple: I’ve got everything I could ever need right here next to me.

#cait writes things #nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon fic #nathan mackinnon imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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teenwolffanclub-me · 4 years

Text

Season 1, Episode 12: Code Breaker

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader

Warnings: two very justified character deaths

Notes: I feel like I blacked out and now we’re somehow on the last episode. Not sure how that happened so fast but here we are. Just prepare yourself bc this one is entirely too long but I didn’t want to do two parts 🤷‍♀️

Does anyone want me to continue with Season 2? Please let me know bc I won’t do it unless people are actually interested.

I also wanted to give a shoutout to everyone who has sent me nice comments and showed love on this series. It’s meant the absolute world to me!

Okay now let’s get some closure!

————————

I walked through the hallways of the high school, using every ounce of willpower I could muster to keep my eyes firmly planted in front of me.

The pressure of dozens of curious stares weighed on my back as I made my way toward the lockers briskly. From the moment I walked through the doors a few minutes ago, all eyes had been on me. I squared my shoulders and forced my head to remain up high.

If people wanted to gossip, they could go right ahead.

My pace quickened as I heard the unmistakable sound of judgmental whispering behind me. I pinched my eyes shut tightly and tried my best to block out the irritating noise. I just wanted to get my books and go to class. At least there, I would see Scott, Stiles, and Allison.

Once I reached my locker, I shakily dialed in my code and popped the small metal door open. I instantly stumbled back, my eyes going wide as a shit ton of dirt came spilling out. I stood still for a few seconds, blinking slowly as I tried figuring out what the hell just happened.

With a frown, I wiped my hands against my jeans, which were now covered in the stuff. My eyes flickered down toward the pile of soil on the tiles in front of my feet, my brows furrowing in confusion.

How the hell did that much dirt get into my locker? How did any dirt get into my locker?

I glanced around the hall slowly, anxious to see my classmates reactions. I was already the weird girl after everything at the dance. I didn’t want to be the even weirder girl who keeps dirt in the locker.

A surprised breath left my lips as I saw that the halls were now completely empty. I turned all the way around, peering in both directions, but there wasn’t a single soul here with me. My head started pounding and I winced at the unexpected sensation before rubbing at my temples gently.

I swiveled back toward my locker, wanting nothing more than for this day to be over. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe I wasn’t ready for this yet. I instantly froze at the sight of a single purple flower sitting in the middle of the dirt pile. I was almost certain it hadn’t been there a moment before.

My heartbeat thrummed loudly in my ears as I reached a trembling hand inside the small space. I tentatively plucked the plant, which I easily recognized as wolfsbane, out of the soil. My eyes flickered around the purple leaves and long, green stem as my confusion only grew.

Just then, an ear piercing scream echoed through the halls. I whipped around, instantly going rigid when I saw that I was no longer in the school, but standing in the middle of the lacrosse field.

I glanced around the empty stadium, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Did I suddenly develop the ability to teleport? Or was I losing my damn mind? My eyes trailed downward as I felt cool air brush against my legs. My breath hitched as I saw that I was wearing my formal dress. The navy fabric was covered in blood and dirt, the strap on my left shoulder torn to shreds.

A bolt of fear licked up my spine as I heard rustling directly in front of me. My gaze slowly swept upward before landing on a pair of glowing red eyes that were illuminated in the shadowy distance. My eyes pinched shut as terror coursed through me when they started moving closer.

“It’s not real.” The mantra was a shaky whisper as my body trembled. “It’s not real. It’s not—”

Just then, my eyes jerked open on their own accord. I bolted upright with a harsh gasp, my throat constricting painfully as I sputtered and coughed a few times. One of my hands came up to clutch at my chest as I tried desperately to catch my breath.

Only a split second passed before Stiles flailed into a sitting position beside me. He whipped his head from side to side with wide eyes, as if searching for the cause of my panic. Once his attention landed back on me, he instantly pulled me into his chest and began murmuring lowly.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” One of his hands rubbed at my back while the other cradled my head against him.

“Lydia...” I gasped, my breath coming out in quick, trembling spurts. The dream had been some sort of vision or clue...it just had to be.

“Lydia’s alright, okay? They’re gonna find her.” Stiles’ fingers threaded through my hair and massaged my scalp soothingly.

“What? What is it? What happened?” Scott’s head suddenly popped up at the foot of my bed, his hair so messy it looked like he’d been hurled through a tornado.

“Another nightmare.” I breathed, feeling my heartrate dropping back down to normal as Stiles’ hands continued rubbing against me gently.

Scott sighed from the floor, his shoulders sagging in relief. One of his hands came up to massage the back of his neck and he grimaced uncomfortably. “Cool. Is it my turn on the bed yet?”

“You can curl up down here if you want, like a good puppy.” Stiles smirked at his own joke as one of his hands left me to point toward our feet.

“Scott, just go sleep in your own bed. It’s literally right there.” I gestured to my window, which faced his, and slowly pulled away from Stiles.

As much as I would love to stay in his arms forever, I had to learn to get ahold of myself on my own. They couldn’t keep babying me. Both of them had done nothing but obsess over my health from the moment I was discharged out of the hospital two days ago.

Scott had refused to leave my side since I’d gotten home, other than the brief moments he made appearances in his own house so that his mom knew he was still alive. He insisted it was to keep an eye on me, and that was partially true, but he was also basically in hiding right now.

Jackson, being the wonderful friend that he is, somehow found the time to tell Mr. Argent that Scott is the beta they’ve been looking for, kindly adding on to our reasons-life-is-currently-terrible list.

“And let you guys have all the fun without me?” Scott mumbled sarcastically and leaned back to lay on the pillow and blanket I’d set up for him on the hardwood floor.

This had been our routine for two days. Mom banned me from having any visitors while I recover, but that hadn’t stopped Scott from staying or Stiles from sneaking in after school. Each night, I could barely make it through a few hours of sleep at a time before jerking awake from yet another nightmare. Or maybe they were visions. I honestly had no idea.

My days had also been...weird, to say the least. Most of the time, it was hard to tell whether or not I was awake. My sense of reality was seriously fucked up. I was having almost constant visions and dreams, and they never made any sense. It felt like my subconscious was trying to tell me something, but in another language I had yet to learn.

Lydia was still missing, and I was beyond worried sick. Sheriff Stilinski and the entire police department had searched every square inch of Beacon Hills over the course of the last two days, and hadn’t found a single trace of her.

Aside from that shitshow, I also hadn’t spoken to Allison since the last time I’d seen her at the dance. No one had, actually.

Scott—when he wasn’t fawning over me—was losing his mind because apparently while I was being a dumbass and getting myself bitten, Mr. Argent somehow made him shift in front of Allison. Then, he shipped her and Kate off to an undisclosed location until further notice.

I’d sent her a few texts since being home, but she only responded once. The words had replayed in my mind over and over for several hours after reading them as I tried figuring out an acceptable response.

You knew the whole time, didn’t you?

I eventually decided not to answer at all. What could I say? I’d kept something huge from her, although it was never really my secret to tell anyway. She had every right to be pissed off. I wanted to address it in person and, honestly, didn’t have the mental capacity to worry much about it right now.

I blinked a few times, feeling myself come back from my dazed thoughts as Scott and Stiles’ voices fluttered back to my ears. I’d been doing that a lot, too. Getting lost in my mind for several minutes at a time, if not longer. I felt a curious gaze on my face and took in a slow, deep breath before lifting my head to meet Stiles’ eyes.

My heart clenched uncomfortably in my chest at the look he was giving me. It was the same expression that had been etched into his face ever since I’d woken up in the hospital. It was like he was afraid I would try to kill him at any given moment, while simultaneously worrying that I’d suffer a mental break or croak on the spot.

I heard the rumbling sound of snoring from the floor and knew that Scott was already out cold again.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” I sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. I glanced at the alarm clock on my bedside table, noting with a regretful wince that it was three in the morning. He had school in only a few hours.

Stiles’ eyes inspected me tenderly, rounding with concern as he reached out to tuck a stray clump of hair behind my ear gently. “I wasn’t sleeping. You stole my pillow, so...”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He apparently couldn’t sleep without the thing and had brought it with him each night. It was quite possibly the most adorable thing ever.

“I’m still sorry.” My voice was barely above a whisper as I looked down toward my lap and fidgeted with my fingers.

Ever since I was bitten I’d felt...different. Like a burden. Out of control. It was as if my mind was warring with itself all day, every day. I had a constant nagging fear that I was forgetting something important. It was like it was on the tip of my tongue, but I just couldn’t remember.

Stiles leaned toward me slowly and cupped my cheek before placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. His fingers trailed down to brush against the side of my neck before tangling in the hair at the base of my skull. His free hand came up to the other side of my head and he pulled it down against his chest. My eyes fluttered shut as a sigh left my lips.

A sense of peace always washed over me when he was near. Despite everything going on, all it took was a small touch to quiet my racing mind. I felt myself relaxing, if only slightly, in his arms. A moment later, I leaned back to look at him again, my stomach fluttering at the intense gleam of worry shining in his caramel eyes.

“There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?” My voice broke and I furrowed my brows as traitorous tears filled my eyes. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to feel sorry for myself. I wanted to get better.

Stiles glanced fleetingly at the place where Peter had bitten me, but jerked his attention back to my face quickly, probably hoping I hadn’t noticed. “Whatever it is...we’ll figure it out.”

Somehow, his response wasn’t all that comforting. I didn’t doubt for a second that he’d be there for me every step of the way as I went through whatever this was. I’d watched how he helped Scott during the early stages of his transformation, and it was admirable. But I didn’t want there to be anything wrong. I didn’t want there to be anything different about me.

I just wanted to be normal.

“C’mere...” Stiles opened his arms and I couldn’t help but instantly fall into them.

He pulled me tight against him and leaned back, snagging his pillow from my side of the bed on the way down. My eyes fluttered shut as I laid there on top of him, my legs between his and my head resting above his heart.

I listened to the steady rhythm of his pulse, feeling it lull me to sleep within seconds.

————————

I leaned back against my headboard, adjusting the book that rested atop my knees. My bottom lip was tucked between my teeth anxiously as I flipped another page. I narrowed my eyes as they swept over the words, urging my mind to comprehend them. I just couldn’t. I was way too distracted.

My eyes flickered up to find Scott lounging in my desk chair across the room. He was playing some game on his phone and it was making this annoying boing sound every few seconds. It was starting to drive me crazy, but it wasn’t the only thing causing my jitters.

I glanced away from him to look out my open window and sighed heavily. It was already dark outside, and Stiles wasn’t here yet.

It wasn’t usually like me to jump to conclusions, but considering the state of our lives right now, it wasn’t a stretch to be worried. At this point, though, I was moving toward a full on panic attack. School ended six hours ago. What could he possibly be doing?

I opened my mouth to voice my concern, but never got a chance as Scott interrupted me before I could get even a single word out.

“He’s fine.” He said absently, his eyes never leaving his phone’s screen.

My eyebrows twitched up in surprise. “How did you know...”

“I can hear your heart racing.” He sighed and finally dropped his phone onto my desk before lifting his eyes to meet mine. “You either just ran a marathon, or you’re worried about something. That something is usually Stiles. And he’s fine.”

I rolled my lips into a tight line at the way he’d just read me so easily. “But it’s already—”

Just then, something thumped outside my window loudly. I stiffened at the sound, and Scott perked up in his chair, instantly on high alert. There was a low groan before a figure clambered through the opening. I instantly knew it was Stiles as I caught sight of his red flannel. He flailed to the floor spastically with a yelp and I slammed my book closed before bolting to my feet.

I rushed to his side, my arms wrapping around him as he struggled to get up. His chest heaved with ragged breaths as if he’d run the whole way here.

“Where were you? Are you okay? What happened?” I couldn’t stop the panicked words from tumbling past my lips.

My eyes trailed over him quickly to assess for any damage. His freckled cheeks were flushed and the top three buttons on his flannel were undone, exposing his white undershirt. He looked a little roughed up, but not hurt.

He finally stood up straight and his eyes widened when they met mine, as if only just then realizing that I was beside him. He gripped my upper arms sternly before walking me backward.

“What are you doing? Get back in bed.” I had no choice but to plop down onto the mattress as the back of my knees ran right into it.

“Don’t change the subject, Stilinski.” I frowned up at him and his eyes twitched in warning.

“Oh, God. Please don’t make me listen to another who’s more worried about who fight. I might seriously puke this time.” Scott practically threw himself onto the bed beside me, a look of feigned disgust taking over his face.

My eyes swept toward him and narrowed into a glare only briefly, as my attention moved back to Stiles when he started talking again.

“Moving on.” He sent a pointed look Scott’s way before continuing, his hands gesturing quickly in front of him. He was anxious, that much was obvious. “I had a uh...talk with Chris—”

“Who?” I interrupted, thrown off by the unfamiliar name.

Stiles’ eyes twitched at me in annoyance as he flailed one of his arms in a circle, signaling that we didn’t have much time. “Argent.”

“You call Allison’s dad Chris?” My voice rose in disbelief. Since when was that a thing?

“Oh my God. This is important, okay? He tried to get me and Jackson to tell him where Scott is and—”

Scott sprang upright on the bed, his eyes wide with alarm. “Why were you with Jackson?”

“Can I just finish? Is that alright with you two?” Stiles’ voice rose in frustration, his eyes pinching shut for a brief moment after he shouted.

Both Scott and I froze and he sighed before running a hand down his face. His gaze flickered to Scott as he extended a hand out apprehensively. “He’s literally planning to kill you. Tonight. Okay? So you can’t—”

Scott suddenly rose to his feet, his face tight with determination. “I need to find Derek.”

Stiles’ fingers curled into a fist, still hanging in the air, as he pursed his lips when Scott brushed past him. “Why do we keep going back to him? He’s like your abusive ex, okay? You have a problem. And did you miss the part where I just said you could be murdered by werewolf hunters at any given moment?”

“If the Argents are after me, he’s the only one who can help.” Scott braced his hands against my windowsill and turned to glare at Stiles over his shoulder.

Before either of us could ask him what he was doing, he doubled over with a low groan. I realized he was shifting and tentatively slid back on my mattress, not sure what was going on. I knew he would never hurt me, but I hadn’t seen anything supernatural since being bitten. It instantly had me on edge.

Then, he jerked upright and howled loudly into the dark sky.

I winced at the deep, rumbling sound, feeling a painful twinge in my head. One of my hands came up to cradle my temple as my lips parted in a silent gasp. The noise was vibrating all the way in my bones, overwhelming every one of my senses. I felt myself slipping away from the present, my eyes wide but unfocused. I faintly registered an arm wrapping around my back as Stiles rushed to kneel in front of me.

His free hand cupped my face, his lips moving rapidly as he tried to bring me back. I suddenly had the strong urge to close my eyes, so I let them flutter down slowly. Instantly, my breath caught as an image of Derek’s house popped into my mind. There were way too many things happening to decipher any of it. My brows furrowed as I tried making sense of what I was seeing.

The clearest picture was the most gruesome. Blood. Everywhere.

A painful spasm in my left shoulder had my eyes jerking open. They met Stiles’ wide, panicked gaze as he hovered only a few inches away from me. With a snap, his and Scott’s voices rushed into my ears.

“What the hell did you do to her?” Stiles practically yelled, his voice tight with anxiety and a hint of anger. His hands were clutching my arms as he jostled me awake.

Scott appeared at his side above me, his face crumbled in horror. “I-I didn’t do anything! I didn’t mean to...”

“I think I know where to find him.” I interrupted breathily, blinking a few times to focus my eyes. I sat up with a groan, my head pounding harshly. Stiles tightened his grip on me as he tried to keep me steady. “His house. I saw it.”

Scott’s face dropped from beside me, his brows furrowing as his lips pulled into a frown. “So did I.”

We shared a long, curious glance. I had no idea what that meant, and judging by the glint of wonder reflecting in his eyes, neither did he.

“So we’re just not gonna talk about whatever that was?” Stiles asked incredulously. He e took a step away from me and shrugged sarcastically with a tilt of his head.

“We don’t have time.” I pushed myself up to my feet and strode toward my closet hurriedly.

It was freezing outside by now, and I wanted to be prepared for once. I rustled through my sweaters until I found one I didn’t mind ruining. My shoulder protested each movement as I wrestled it over my head, but I tried my best to ignore it. I turned on my heel to face the guys and froze at the looks they were giving me.

Scott seemed hesitant, but didn’t look like he was going to argue, while Stiles was very much unimpressed.

“That’s funny.” He laughed humorlessly and pointed at me. “It looks like you think you’re going somewhere.”

I frowned at his demanding tone. “I’m sorry, are you my mother? No? Okay. That’s what I thought.”

I brushed past him to find a pair of socks in my dresser. If he thought he was going to start telling me what to do just because we’re dating, he had another thing coming. My eyes flickered up to meet his in the mirror as I heard rustling behind me.

“You can’t seriously—” His mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to find the right words. I pulled out a mismatched pair of socks and turned to lean against the dresser as I slid them on. “Scott, tell her how stupid this is.”

“Hell no. I’m not getting involved.” He glanced between us with wide eyes, lifting his hands in surrender.

“If we don’t go now, Derek is going to die.” I forced the words out through clenched teeth, growing impatient. Somehow, I knew that’s the future we were up against, despite not having actually seen it happen. I just knew.

“Since when do we care about that?” Stiles swiveled his head as his eyebrows rose in question.

Scott stepped forward, suddenly looking pensive. “I’m not going to just let him die.”

“I’m the only sane one left...” Stiles muttered to himself, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

After several more minutes of pointless arguing, a very disgruntled Stiles finally agreed to drive us to Derek’s. The three of us had barely made it a few steps outside the Jeep before he came barreling from the house, looking unpleasant as ever.

“What the hell are you doing? None of you should be here right now.” His angry voice echoed through the trees as he continued stalking forward until he stood right in front of us.

“Finally, someone’s making—oh my God!” Stiles didn’t have a chance to finish his thought as an arrow came out of nowhere and embedded itself into Derek’s shoulder.

My eyes widened in shock and I whipped around just as another arrow came from the trees to land in his thigh. He crumpled to the ground with a groan, clutching at his injuries.

“Close your eyes!” He shouted and tucked his face into his elbow.

Long fingers clasped around my bicep and I was jerked to the side before another hand shoved my head into a warm chest. I screwed my eyes shut tightly, a quiet boom sounding beside us. Stiles and I separated quickly to see what it was, but my eyes landed on Scott instead.

He was crouched down on all fours, blinking rapidly. He hadn’t been fast enough. He squinted into the distance and I followed his line of sight, but came up empty.

Derek grunted lowly as he broke off the shafts of each arrow that still lay inside him. He stumbled to his feet and grabbed Scott by the collar of his jacket. “Get to the house!”

Stiles and I didn’t hesitate to obey as we bolted in that direction, our hands tangled together. We only made it about halfway before Derek slumped to the ground behind us, exhausted. I staggered to a halt at the sound and nearly lost my balance when Stiles continued moving.

His eyes flickered from me to the place where Scott and Derek lay crumpled on the ground in a moment of hesitation. With a grimace, he let me go and we both jogged their way.

“No! Go!” Derek’s head popped up and he tried waving us off, but it was too late.

I froze, partially crouched beside him, as a thin figure emerged from the darkness. She was stomping toward us with a huge bow slung over her shoulder. The dim light from Derek’s porch illuminated her face as she neared us, and my breath caught in my throat. It was the last person I expected to see.

“Allison, I can explain—” Scott immediately stammered desperately, still trying to get his bearings after being stunned by the flash bullet. I realized at then that it was the same type she’d tried out with me and Lydia the week before formal.

“Stop lying.” She barked, her voice tight with built up anger. Her eyes flickered up to meet mine, my chest tightening at the intense betrayal swirling inside them. “All of you, for once, stop lying.”

“I was gonna tell you the truth. I was gonna tell you everything at the formal.” Scott rushed the words out in a panic as he shuffled backward to match each step she took toward him. “Everything that I said...everything I did...”

“Was to protect me.” She finished with a humorless scoff, fingers tightening around the arrow she held at her side.

“Yes.” He instantly confirmed, pleading with her to understand.

I knew exactly how she felt. Being kept in the dark sucked, no matter which way it was spun. Maybe she had been safer this whole time because she didn’t know. Or maybe all his secret did was create an irreparable wedge between them. She was bound to find out eventually, considering who her family was, and this whole mess was probably the worst way it could’ve happened.

Allison’s eyes glistened as she peered down at him, her hardened mask of hatred cracking just slightly. Her voice trembled as a few tears escaped down her cheeks. “I don’t believe you.”

“Thank God!” I jumped at the sudden voice from the darkness, and watched as Kate stalked out of the tree line with a roll of her eyes. “Now shoot him before I have to shoot myself.”

My heart leapt into my throat at her words. With Scott dazed and Derek seriously injured, there wasn’t much we could do to stop her from killing either one of them. The reality of our situation hit me like a ton of bricks. Stiles and I were utterly useless.

“Y-you said we were just going to catch them.” Allison sputtered, head jerking toward her aunt in surprise.

“Yeah, and we did that. Now we’re going to kill them.” Kate raised an arm absently and shot a bullet right into Derek’s chest as she passed by, not even sparing him a glance. “See? Not that hard.”

I gasped at the unexpected act of violence, my jaw going slack. He instantly fell against the damp ground, motionless.

Holy shit. Oh my God. Is he actually dead?

Allison’s horrified expression matched mine, more tears coating her face as she stared at Derek’s lifeless body. She stiffened when her aunt joined her in front of Scott, who was still gaping from his crouched position.

“Oh no, not that look.” Kate mused, not sounding the least bit genuine. “That’s the you’re going to have to do it yourself look.”

She raised her gun toward Scott’s chest, a manic grin pulling at her lips. I moved without thinking, taking a big step in their direction. Allison instantly started freaking out and tried to put herself between them, but Kate shoved her away harshly.

She tumbled to the ground just as a hand clasped around my wrist to stop me. I yanked against it, my chest tightening with panic. I had to get over there. I had to help.

“Y/N! Y/N, stop!” Stiles yelled frantically from behind me, his hold falling loose as I continued struggling against him.

I ran forward and staggered to a halt beside Kate, who was still pointing the gun at Scott, having no idea what to do now that I was here. She glanced toward me and sighed with a disinterested roll of her eyes. Before I even fully registered that she moved, I was already on the ground. She’d whipped the gun against the side of my face harshly, white hot pain instantly rippling through my head.

“No!” I heard Allison shout in horror.

A groan trembled past my lips as I shakily pulled myself up onto my elbows. My vision blurred as Scott jerked upright, about to rush to my side before Kate aimed the gun at his chest again. He froze, his wide eyes never leaving me. I brought a hand up to my temple and hissed when my fingers landed on a warm trickle of blood.

“Ah, ah...” Kate tutted, amusement shining in her eyes as she glanced behind me, gun following the movement.

I turned my head and saw Stiles freeze mid-sprint toward me. His eyes narrowed into an angry glare as his jaw clenched tightly, but he didn’t move an inch. I let out a huff, growing frustrated by this whole stupid situation, and swept my gaze back to Kate.

“Just shoot someone already.” I barked, annoyed with her games.

Was it stupid to taunt the person with the weapon? Yes. Did I give a fuck? No. At this point, I was more angry than anything. We’d spent months fighting and tracking the alpha—Peter—as he went on a bloodthirsty rampage through Beacon Hills. We’d nearly died in the school, and at the movie store, and in these very woods. Several times.

Lydia and I had been bitten, and Stiles’ dad was close to a nervous breakdown because nothing in this town makes any goddamn sense unless you’re risking your life everyday just by knowing about the supernatural. And now, we had to deal with Allison’s batshit crazy family, on top of everything.

I just wanted it to be over.

Kate huffed out a surprised laugh and pointed the gun at me again. “What poetic last words.”

“No! Leave her alone! I’m the one you want.” Scott shouted desperately, stumbling upright from his position in the dirt.

An evil smirk twitched at her lips as she ignored him. I watched her pointer finger tighten on the trigger and held my breath as I waited for the inevitable.

“Kate!” A deep voice boomed from behind me, making her pause. I instantly recognized that it was Allison’s dad. “I know what you did.”

The amusement dropped from her face at his words and her eyes flickered up toward the house for a brief moment.

“Put the gun down.” Mr. Argent ordered, dried leaves crunching beneath his shoes as he walked toward us.

“I did what I was told to do.” Kate jutted her hand toward me as she enunciated each word curtly.

I stiffened, very aware that her finger, which still rested against the gun’s trigger, could set it off at any moment. My pulse hammered in my ears loudly and my entire body began trembling as my fear suddenly caught up with me.

“No one asked you to murder innocent people. There were children in that house.”

My mind raced as I slowly pieced together what he was saying. The fire. It was Kate. But why? Why would she murder an entire family?

“Ones that were human. Look what you’re doing now, you’re holding a gun at sixteen year old kids. No proof they’ve spilled human blood.” He continued, his voice harsh and unfeeling. “Now, put the gun down...before I put you down.”

My eyes widened at his threat. Would he really kill his own sister?

Kate stared at him for a few long moments, her face crumbling in disbelief. Finally, she lowered her arm back down to her side. I let out a heavy breath of relief, but didn’t move from my crouched position in front of her. A loud creak from the house had everyone’s attention jerking toward it.

The front door swung open slowly, nothing but darkness behind it.

“Kids, get back.” Allison’s dad ordered gruffly as he cocked his gun and aimed it at the decrepit structure.

Scott stumbled to his feet, but didn’t make a move to run and hide as instructed. Allison joined his side a moment later, her bow and arrow cocked and aimed at the house. I heard quick steps behind me a moment before strong arms wrapped around my waist and hauled me to my feet.

Stiles whipped me around to face him, and I winced as my head throbbed in protest. His hands came up to cradle the sides of my face, his fingers turning red as my blood smeared onto his skin. His wide eyes flickered around my body frantically, as if not fully believing that I was right here in front of him.

He suddenly jerked me toward him and smashed his lips against mine, pouring every emotion he’d just gone through into the kiss. I responded instantly, my hands fisting the warm material of his flannel as I pulled him closer. It was over much too soon as he pulled back with a shaky breath of relief.

“God, I’m so mad at you right now. I could literally kill you.” His eyes twitched as he continued inspecting me for any hidden injuries.

“Wouldn’t that be a little counterproductive?�� I chuckled despite the situation, and he just glared at me.

“What is it?” My attention jerked back to Allison at the sound of her panicked voice. I’d nearly forgotten what was going on outside the peaceful bubble that was Stiles.

I turned back toward the house and saw Scott’s eyes flash bright yellow as he peered through the opened front door. “It’s the alpha.”

At his declaration, a huge black mass raced out of the house, moving impossibly fast. It dashed around the area in a big circle before turning abruptly and knocking Mr. Argent right off his feet. He flew into the air before landing heavily, instantly passing out cold as his head slammed against the dirt.

Allison cried out and made a move to help him, but quickly found herself in no better shape as the alpha rammed into her next. Only a second later, Scott was groaning as he lay in a heap beside her on the leaf covered ground. My heart slammed against my ribs painfully as my head whipped from side to side, trying to see where he was now.

All the air rushed from my lungs as a powerful force shoved against mine and Stiles’ sides. His arms instantly wrapped around my waist, and mine around his shoulders. We held onto each other tightly as we flew several feet through the air. At the last second, Stiles shifted us so that he would take the brunt of the fall. He hissed in pain as his back slammed onto the dirt, and I quickly scrambled to get off of him.

“Come on!” Kate’s angry voice echoed through the trees as she jerked her gun around in a circle. She was the only one left standing.

I wrapped an arm around Stiles and helped him sit up. He waved me off, muttering something about being fine, and I huffed in annoyance. At this point I was convinced that he was physically unable to help himself from downplaying his own struggles.

I was about to argue with him, but froze when Peter emerged from the darkness to stand threatening behind Kate. He snatched the arm that held her gun and wrenched it behind her with ease. She grunted in pain as he twisted it with a snap, two shots firing into the sky as they struggled.

She had no choice but to release the gun. It landed on the ground with a dull thud as he gripped her by the throat and tossed her in the air like a ragdoll. She crashed onto the porch, a cloud of dust rising all around her as she shakily pushed herself up.

Peter wasted no time in striding up the broken steps. He bent down and grabbed Kate violently before pressing her back to his chest, holding her in place with his claws at her neck.

“No!” Allison suddenly shouted and sprinted toward them.

My eyes widened in horror. What the hell did she think she was doing? I made a move to follow her, but Stiles wrapped both arms around my waist tightly. I pulled against him for a few seconds, but stopped when Peter’s voice echoed toward us.

“She is beautiful, Kate. She looks like you, only not as damaged. So I’m going to give you a chance to save her.” My breath hitched as he addressed Allison and I started thrashing against Stiles again. I couldn’t let her get hurt. I couldn’t let anyone else I care about become one of his victims. “Apologize. Say you’re sorry for decimating my family, for leaving me burned and broken for six years. Say it, and I’ll let her live.”

A tense moment of silence passed as Kate seemed to weigh her options. Finally, she choked the words out the best she could. “I’m...sorry.”

A small, satisfied smile tugged at Peter’s lips before he ripped her throat out with his claws. My jaw dropped as blood splattered across every nearby surface, my stomach churning at the violence of it all. Allison screamed, practically doubling over in horror as Kate crumpled to the porch with wide, empty eyes. Peter’s shoulders sagged as he let out a long sigh, a look of relief washing over him.

“I don’t know about you, Allison, but that apology didn’t sound very sincere.” His amused gaze bored into her wide, glistening eyes as he stalked down the steps.

By the time he had one foot on the dirt ground, Scott and Derek were crouched in front of her protectively. I hadn’t even noticed that Derek was still alive, let alone completely healed, but I was more than grateful.

“Run.” Scott grunted over his shoulder, and she didn’t hesitate to listen.

She sprinted toward me and Stiles, taking her bow with her, and immediately crumpled into my arms. A harsh sob wracked her body as I pulled her in tight. I felt Stiles’ hand on my back as he guided us hastily toward his Jeep. A few animalistic growls and roars sounded from behind us, and I knew they were fighting.

“I’m sorry.” Allison cried, pulling away from me to wipe at her face. “I’m so, so sorry. I-I didn’t know what happened with you and Lydia, and now Kate’s gone and—oh my God. I’m the worst friend ever.”

Stiles wrenched the passenger door open when we reached the car and I shoved Allison inside before crawling in behind her. Something snapped behind us, and I honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d just uprooted a tree or completely destroyed the house.

“It’s okay.” I breathed, running a hand down Allison’s back as she continued blubbering. “We’re both terrible friends, honestly.”

“Wait.” She suddenly perked up, her eyes widening in horror. “My dad.”

Damnit. I‘d completely forgotten about him.

I turned to peer out the window and winced as Peter picked Derek up by the ankle and tossed him through the air. He crashed into Scott, who was trying to pull himself upright a few feet away, bringing him right back down harshly.

Peter snarled, seemingly losing control as he hunched over and shifted fully into a huge, terrifying beast. He roared loudly, baring his claws and stalking forward. He grabbed Derek by the throat and threw him into a nearby tree before turning back to Scott.

“I have to do something.” Stiles suddenly spoke up from the front seat. My head whipped in his direction as he threw open the driver’s side door and clambered onto the ground.

“What? No!” I immediately tumbled out behind him and watched with baited breath as he reached into the trunk.

My brows furrowed as I caught sight of a huge beaker in his hand. I barely had time to register that here was a yellow liquid swirling inside before he hurled it at Peter. As it flew toward him, I realized it was a Molotov cocktail, like the one Lydia showed us how to make when we were stuck inside the school. Peter caught it easily, his glowing red eyes snapping our way with a ferocious growl.

“Oh, damn...” Stiles instantly deflated and took a tentative step back.

My eyes widened as I whipped back around to face Allison, an idea suddenly popping into my head. She seemed to know exactly what I was thinking as she reached for her bow and instantly nocked the arrow into place. After taking only a moment to aim it out the opened window, she fired.

It hit the glass bottle dead center, and Peter’s left arm erupted in flames. He roared frantically and tried shaking the fire off, only managing to make it spread across his torso more quickly. Soon, his entire body was ablaze as he staggered around and howled in agony.

After a few long, torturous moments, he slumped down onto his knees in his human form. Thick smoke billowed from his charred skin as he sputtered and gasped for air. We all stood impossibly still, gaping at him in horror. I don’t think any of us had the slightest idea of what to do next.

Derek suddenly emerged from the house, his face a tight mask of fury. He stalked toward Peter, who now lay on his back, and stood over him with clenched fists.

“Wait!” Scott rose to his feet and stopped only a foot away from them, his eyes wide with panic. Derek’s hard glare never moved an inch. “You said the cure comes from the one who bit you. If you do this, I’m dead. What am I supposed to do?”

My attention snapped back toward him, surprised at his words. There was a cure? I had no idea what he was talking about, but it must’ve been important if he was this freaked out over it.

Derek’s eyes pinched shut and his jaw clenched tightly. He hesitated for only a brief moment before raising a clawed hand in the air.

“Wait! N-no! Don’t!” Scott's desperate plea fell on deaf ears as Derek brought his hand down to slash Peter’s throat.

Allison gasped from beside me, and I just stared ahead with wide eyes. My breath caught in my throat as I watched yet another person’s life fade away right in front of me. It was almost hard to believe, that he was actually dead. We’d all been through so much. It didn’t seem possible that it could all be over, just like that.

There had to be more.

Derek staggered to his feet and turned to glower at Scott over his shoulder. His canines elongated and his eyes flashed bright red before he uttered the words we were all dreading. The ones that would seal our fate for the foreseeable future.

“I’m the alpha now.”

Episode 11 Season 2, Episode 1 (Part One)

143 notes · View notes

tommysparker · 4 years

Text

Movie Night: Hush (Baby Boy)

Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: So because everyone seemed to enjoy Movie Night so much, I decided to make a little series of unrelated events that happen during movie night in the Holland and Co. Household. Shoutout to @greenorangevioletgrass who was the BIGGEST help while writing this. Next week I’ll be posting the Peter Parker angsty fic titled Good For You, based on that song from Dear Evan Hansen, and after that is Black & White Ch. 2 so stay tuned! Also, this is the longest fic I’ve written so far so enjoy :)

Warnings: Smut (ish), handjob under a blanket, ‘scawy’ movie, couple no-no words, ruined orgasm and a bit of overstim, first time writing smut so I apologize if I did it wrong

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It was a typical movie night.

You snuggled into Tom under the warm throw-blanket, Harrison on the other side of the couch, Harry curled up on the sofa-chair and Tuwaine chilling on the floor.

The choice of film that night was “Hush”, which is more thriller than a horror movie (Tom and Harrison disagreed). So after some arguing, and maybe a broken phone, everyone finally settled down in their designated seats and watched the film

Well, almost everyone.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on Tom’s face, specifically his lips. Every so often his tongue would poke out and you couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel against your--

A sudden yelp pulled you out of your thoughts, Tom’s hand gripping your thigh as his whole body jumped, the music shrilling through the speakers. Oh for fuck’s sake.

In your defense, it had been a while since you and Tom had gotten together. Being stuck with three other divs in the house didn’t exactly leave room for much personal time. You were lucky enough to hook-up in the shower but never had enough time for it to go further.

Suddenly, an idea came to mind.

Slowly, you shifted your hand closer to Tom’s thigh, rubbing it slowly to make it seem like a comforting move. The brown-haired boy smiled, curling up closer and wrapping his arm around your shoulder so he could hold you against his chest. Big mistake buddy.

You had your legs on top of his so you were basically sitting in his lap, but not quite. Honestly, it was an awkward position but it was comfortable so neither of you was complaining. At least now your movements were less obvious. You let your hand rest near his knee for a while, before slowly sliding it upwards.

At first, Tom didn’t think anything of it and let you do whatever you were doing until the moment came when he felt a bit of pressure between his legs and his blood rush south. He tore his gaze from the television, only to meet your smug gaze as you ever-so-subtly moved your palm in agonizingly slow circles.

“W-what are you doing?” He whispered as to not alert the other boys. He reached to grab your hand but froze when you tighten your grip on his groin, biting down on his lip to hold back a groan.

You tucked your nose into his neck, speaking softly so only he could hear, “Just relax baby, enjoy the movie.” Your hand starting rubbing him through the material of his sweatpants, smirking against his skin when you felt his cock twitch under your touch.

Tom mentally cursed himself for not wearing underwear, but in all fairness, he never expected to be biting his tongue so he doesn’t make any suggestive sounds while watching a horror movie with his roommates.

After another ten minutes of painful teasing, Tom was fully hard, either from your consistent and steady rubbing, or the thrill of maybe getting caught (even though it would lead to a lifetime of embarrassment), he didn’t know. However, Tom would be lying if he said the thought of you getting him off while he was forced to suppress any noise trying to escape from the back of his throat didn’t drive him crazy. On top of all that, he was praying no one noticed how flush he’s become, and his prayers were answered surprisingly, for the most part. The boys seemed really into the film, however, you were enjoying an alternate source of entertainment.

Seeing your boyfriend with his knuckles in his mouth and squirming ever so slightly every time you gently squeezes his hard-on was the best thing you could ever lay eyes on. Tiring from the pre-show, you decided it was time to progress the main plot. Slowly, you let your fingers dip under the waistband, planting a few kisses on the brown-eyed boy’s collarbone before reaching in and wrapping your fingers around his aching dick.

Tom breathed deeply when he felt your skin touch his, and almost let out a whimper when you carefully pulled his member out so it stood hard against his lower stomach. His eyes fluttered closed at the feel of your thumb rubbing against the tip of his cock. And when you start to stroke up and down his length, he threw his head back and--

“FUCK!” Harry cursed out loud at a jumpscare.

It was a jumpscare alright because Tom practically jumped out of his seat and nearly blew the cover off. But you quickly held the blanket in place and ran a soothing hand on his chest, signaling that it’s all okay.

You could hear his heart beating rapidly in his chest, and wondered if it was from the scare or your little scandal. Probably both, you decided.

Waiting ‘till everyone calmed down, you resumed your earlier movements, grinning inwardly when you felt your boyfriend tense beneath you. You lightly ran your hand over his cock, the pads of your fingers brushing against the head which made him shift.

A few more minutes go by before you start jerking him off, slowly as to not surprise him, knowing full-well how prone he is to moaning out loud at any sudden contact. The pre-cum dribbled down his cock acting as a lube while you slid your palm up and down, twisting your wrist the way he loves.

Tom was really struggling to stay quiet, to the point he had to stuff a pillow in his face, making excuses like “It’s too scary, man!” or “Oh god I can’t watch,” the Oh god being dragged out a little too long, not that anyone really paid attention. The short little dialogue you were whispering in his ear was not any help.

“Gotta stay quiet baby boy, don’t want the lads to find out about our little secret, do you?”

“God, Tommy, you should see yourself right now. All red and flustered...can’t wait to see how you look from a lower angle.”

“You’re moving too much, my love. Be good and stay still for me will you?...yes that’s much better. Now I can go harder, and faster, and no one is gonna know.”

You knew your words were driving him crazy, could see it in the way he clenched his jaw and tightened his hold on the pillow. He was getting close.

Unfortunately, just as he was about to cum, the sudden intense yelling coming from the others caused you to flinch, retracting your hand and curling up, all the while Tom used almost every bit of self-control he had left in order to not whimper aloud.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING MAN?!”

“She’s deaf why the fuck is he knocking?!”

“BITCH HE’S GONNA KILL YOU RUN!”

He jumps slightly in shock, and what little control he's trying to grapple goes out the . The adrenaline still pumping through his body proving to be his undoing as small spurts of cum ran down his cock, orgasm completely ruined. His head lolled to the side a bit, brain fogged with unsatisfied lust yet the energy spent taking a physical toll on his fatigued figure.

You watched him closely, saw his bottom lip get caught between his teeth and the quiet pants that felt a lot louder in your ears. At that moment, you thought he had never looked so hot, and all you could think about was wanting more. So after giving him a few seconds to catch his breath, you waited for the next jumpscare, before taking action and resuming your previous antics, much to Tom’s surprise as a startled moan was ripped from this throat, but thankfully drowned out by the shouts of his roommates.

Tom looked at you with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape, to which you returned with an innocent smile and a gentle squeeze to his tip, causing him to squirm and bite back the groan that desperately wanted to escape. “W-what are y-you doing?” He whispered, hiding his face in your neck. To the naked eye, it would seem like an ordinary couple move, however, in this scenario, he was trying hopelessly to muffle any sounds he wanted to make.

You kissed his cheek, mumbling back “Your last orgasm was ruined, pretty boy. Only fair I give you a proper one.” With that said, your hand sped up, fisting his cock with ease and massaging the sensitive head.

The actor knew you well enough to know you weren’t gonna stop until you got what you wanted, but that didn’t make the unexpected overstimulation any easier to handle.

As the movie progressed, it felt as if your hand moved in rhythm with the score that played. Tom was truly trying his best to stay still for you, however you were relentless and the poor Brit was trapped in confusion of whether he wanted to buck into your hand, or shy away from the burning feeling his cock was endearing.

Harrison, sitting opposite to the couple couldn’t help but see from the corner of his eye how much Tom was moving around. “Tom, mate you alright? If you need to wiz we can pause.”

Tom really thought you were going to stop, but when you didn’t he had no choice but to power through the pleasure, or pain, he was still deciding. “N-No m’aright sunshine, j-just a-ah oh god…” his eyes slipped shut as his head fell forward into your neck.

“He’s just being a scaredy-cat, aren’t you, baby boy?” You cooed playfully, but under the blanket giving his balls a harsh squeeze, emitting a small whimper-mixed-groan that was quiet enough that only you could hear. Tom could only nod along to your excuse.

The blue-eyed boy didn’t seem convinced, but let it slide. Little did he know, his observation would send his best friend into a world of euphoria.

The idea of you actually getting caught only spurred you on, pumping his cock vigorously and Tom was about to lose it. Sensitivity aside, he could feel another knot building in his lower abdomen and he wanted nothing more than to feel your walls hug his throbbing dick. He kissed your neck, slurring his words as he miserably tried to compromise. “D-darling, why don’t we finish this in our bedroom?” His voice was airy, like every time he opened his mouth he was gasping for oxygen.

You adored the effect you had on this man, almost as much as you loved the effect he had on you. “Don’t be silly, Tommy. The movie is almost over… let’s see if you can cum before it does, shall we?”

And he did, the pressure building up inside exploding as the girl in the movie stumbled out of the house covered in blood. Hey, everyone has their kinks.

Tom moaned into your shoulder, cum flying out of his head and all over your hand, bits landing on his upper torso, but most of it getting caught on the underside of the blanket.

Thinking quickly, you picked up your drink and “accidently” spilled it all over the cover, cursing loudly to drown out your boyfriend’s whimpers. “Ah, fuck shit! Fan-fucking-tastic. Ugh.”

All heads turned to you, as you mock-complained while simultaneously riding out Tom’s climax. He panted heavily, eyes hooded as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’ll put it in the wash. Tommy, do you mind helping me?” You looked down at the boy, face flushed and chest heaving.

“O-Okay…” He knew there was no point in arguing. Like he said, if you want something, you’ll get it. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tom quickly tucked his flaccid dick back into his sweats, using the blanket to wipe his chest subtly while he got up.

“You boys have fun cleaning up,” You smiled before dragging your boyfriend to the laundry room.

“....They’re gonna fuck, aren’t they?" “Oh definitely.”

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Before anyone says anything, it’s canon Tom has called Haz “sunshine” before so that’s why I added at that in there definitely not because I ship them or anything

All: @greenorangevioletgrass @allegra-writes @soraitmnt @worldoftom @farfromparker @angel-spidey @parkerpeter24 @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @the-panwitch @rebekkah4766 @hollandsamor @theactualprincessofeverything

Tom Holland: @rubberducky-jrr

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom x reader #tom x y/n #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #rae writes sometimes

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cosmic-affinities · 4 years

Text

Fantasy Meets Reality Ch. 2

The second chapter of my BNHA Fantasy AU is here!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Summary: Of fucking course, it had to be Katsuki Bakugou.

Who else would have a weirdo clone from some kind of ‘Alternate Dimension’ show up to mess up their life? Obviously no one.

Of fucking course, Bakugou just had to be the one who temporarily imprinted on the random-ass third year who had a dimension summoning quirk.

Because why wouldn’t he?

Huge huge shoutout to @we-stanjirou on Tumblr for watching as I write this and giving me the motivation I always need! Also for the feedback cause I always love to hear about the reactions she has to my fic as I write them!

CHAPTER 2 STARTS HERE

Izuku woke to his purposely obnoxious alarm going off at 6:45, giving him enough time to wake up, get ready, grab Kit, and meet Bakugou at the training arena. He slowly made his way around his dorm room, putting on his workout clothes and grabbing his bathroom bag.

After he brushed his teeth and washed his face he quickly stopped in his room to grab a change of clothes and made his way to Kit’s room and saw that he was already awake.

“Wow I didn’t expect you to be awake so early without an alarm.”

“Oh, well I am used to rising early, sleeping after the sun is up can be a dangerous thing with dragons.”

“Oh wow! I didn’t even think of that! I guess you must have a pretty fine tuned internal clock!”

Kit stared at Izuku for a moment.

“You really are similar to my ‘Zuku.”

“Oh! I was actually going to ask about him, I’m kinda curious to know how him and I are similar, I was telling Kacchan yesterday that he and All Might, my mentor, had such a big impact on the way I grew up and your Izuku couldn’t have had the same experience and I wonder how that makes us different!”

“Well I think the biggest difference that I noticed is in the way you interact with Bakugou, you act as if you know him better than you know yourself, which I wouldn’t doubt given yesterday’s events. My Izuku acts more like he is still trying to get to know me.”

Izuku took in Kit’s words, considering how much All Might could have influenced him.

“I’d imagine no matter what my circumstances I would probably try to get to know whatever version of you there is.” Izuku blushed at his own words, realising how that would sound to anyone else.

“Oi! I figured you’d be up already even though we don’t have to meet for another twenty minutes.” Izuku heard Bakugou’s words and silently panicked, how long had he been near them? Did he hear what they were talking about?

“Well don’t just fucking stand there, we might as well go early.” This finally brought Izuku back to their conversation,

“Oh right! One quick thing, Kit is going to come and watch so hopefully I can explain quirks to him, plus it wouldn’t be fair to deprive him of seeing your quirk.” Izuku knew the perfect way to distract Bakugou, a well timed compliment that was different from the standard ‘Kacchan is amazing’ should do the trick.

“Damn right, I’ve got the best quirk in this class. Whatever as long as he doesn’t get in my way.”

“Perfect! Alright let’s go! I’ve been thinking about what you said last night, and I think I might have figured out a way to land my attack.”

“Tch, I guess we’ll see what you’ve got.”

The trio made their way across the campus, Izuku unintentionally taking the lead as he muttered about his strategy.

“So Bakugou, how much of our conversation did you actually hear?”

“What the fuck do you mean!”

“Izuku may have not noticed you but I saw you round the corner long before you announced your presence, so how much did you hear?”

Bakugou seemed to consider Kit for a moment, deciding how willing he was to actually listen to him.

“Tch fine, I heard everything, the damn nerd was going on about some ‘internal clock’ when I walked up.” With a pointed eye roll Bakugou tried to end the conversation.

“So you heard what I said about my Izuku? The way he treats me differently than Izuku treats you?”

“Yes I fucking have ears, I heard everything!” In that moment Bakugou would swear the temperature rose suddenly enough to leave him feeling warm.

“You should tell Izuku that, you should have seen how red he was when he realised what he had said. He probably thought it was a good thing no one else was around to hear him.”

“And what the fuck do you think you know about Deku? Oh and by the way I already planned on letting the nerd know that he shouldn’t talk so loud in the middle of hallways.” According to Bakugou, the temperature was quickly rising, even though the other two with him seemed indifferent to it.

“I don’t claim to know anything about your Izuku, although I do happen to know a lot about the way my Izuku acts, and it doesn’t seem too far off.” Kit gained an air of confidence about him, he knew if the roles were reversed he wouldn’t have much to say.

“Deku isn’t my anything! So just shut up and watch us fight.” Bakugou made a point of walking ahead of Kit, not realising that his movements placed him directly next to Izuku as they came to the doorway into the training arena.

Bakugou instinctively opened the door and held it out for Izuku, allowing him to walk in first. With a surprised look Izuku hurried in and placed his bag down on the small set of bleachers on the right side of the room.

“Thanks Kacchan! Kit, why don’t you sit over here while we spar, I would suggest sitting as far away as possible, we can be a little destructive.” Izuku sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, recalling the warning they got about shoe prints on the ceiling and scorch marks on the walls.

“Ha yeah, you wouldn’t want to be in the line of fire, you wouldn’t last.”

Kit wordlessly made his way to the top corner of the seats, effectively protected by two rows in front of him.

The two quirk users made their way to the center of the arena, which was basically a fortified gymnasium made to withstand bombs, which it did on a daily basis. Hero course students were there for a reason.

“Alright Kacchan, don’t hold back! I’m trying to perfect my attack!”

“Psh, I always give it my all, why would I stop now? Alright let’s go on three. One… Two… Three!”

In an instant both took off, Izuku propelled himself upwards, making sure Bakugou’s explosions wouldn’t hit him immediately off the bat.

Once Izuku landed he was securely behind Bakugou, he only had a moment to think before he had to dodge an onset of small quick attacks. Rushing to his right Izuku took the opening and landed a swift kick to Bakugou’s side, temporarily throwing him off balance. The moment didn’t last long, Bakugou was quick to retaliate and pushed small crackles into Izuku’s arm, causing a pain to bubble under the surface.

The two continued to battle, making it look like a well practiced dance rather than a life threatening show of skill. As Bakugou aimed, Izuku dodged, Izuku moved forward and Bakugou moved back, it was hypnotising.

After their stamina started slowly breaking, Izuku found an opportunity and managed to get Bakugou’s hands pressed against each other behind his back, effectively making any explosions more dangerous for himself than Izuku. Their personal sparring rules, perfected over many arguments about who won what, stated that if no attacks are made for ten seconds due to the other person effectively trapping you, then the fight is finished and whoever had the other trapped won.

Bakugou could feel Izuku’s sharp breaths on his neck, he was using OFA to keep his hands pinned, and Bakugou needed to act quickly, he turned his head slightly giving Izuku a view of his face.

“So you’d want to get to know me no matter what huh?” Bakugou took a chance and it paid off.

“What?!” Izuku was taken aback, in his surprise he unknowingly loosened his grip of Bakugou’s hands allowing him to break free entirely.

Izuku was back into full battle mode once he realised what happened and saw Bakugou in front of him. The two fought defensively for the moment, neither wanting their guard to fall.

“Yeah, you seem to have some pretty loud conversations out in the hall.”

“How much did you hear?” Izuku shot back quickly, still considering the options he had.

“Just about everything I think.” Bakugou at the same time was watching Izuku’s measured steps, knowing he was about to attempt something.

“Well then, I feel like I should be slightly embarrassed, but both of us know I’ve said far more embarrassing things.” Bakugou knew he was planning out his moves, he only allowed himself that kind of confidence when he knew what he was doing next. Bakugou had to try and throw him off again.

“I think you were right though. It can’t be a coincidence that the shitty extra with my face seems to be attached to you. Maybe it’s a you thing, maybe it's an us thing I guess we’ll never know.” Everything Bakugou said he believed, although under normal circumstances he would never admit to it.

His plan worked, he noticed the falter in Izuku’s steps and the surprised look he received.

Izuku was not faring well, he had planned to go through the opening motions of his new aerial attack and last minute switch to a low swipe to take out Bakugou’s legs but he couldn’t help but momentarily stutter at Bakugou’s words.

Izuku knew that Bakugou was not a liar, he just didn’t know why all of a sudden he was so open about the truth. It took him a moment too long to realise he fell right into the trap Bakugou had set. He had lost focus, even if it was merely momentarily, it gave Bakugou the opening he needed.

In a flash Bakugou blasted forward, aiming to get Izuku onto the ground and pinned underneath him, the most effective way to end the fight. Luckily for Izuku he managed to fling himself towards the ceiling fast enough to avoid getting seriously hit, unluckily for him, he had no plan for what to do next.

He decided to try the new aerial attack, all he had to do was get up high enough to wrap one leg around Bakugou’s torso and flip him over onto his back by twisting his own body. His previous escape route put him at a perfect height, all he had to do was secure his right leg around Bakugou’s back.

While the plan itself was sound, the execution was slightly off, Bakugou took notice of his position with just barely enough time to twist his body to make it difficult to finish the move. Izuku successfully had Bakugou wrapped in his leg, but the lack of surprise gave Bakugou the advantage of being able to throw his weight in the opposite direction of Izuku’s push.

Before Izuku had a chance to move Bakugou pressed his forearm over Izuku’s waist, pushing him onto the ground. Bakugou brought his other hand to Izuku’s chest, within moments Bakugou was fully on top of Izuku, letting small pops come off of his hands to prevent Izuku from powering up once again. Ten slow seconds ticked by where Izuku tried to make his way out from underneath Bakugou to no avail, once their mental timers went off both relaxed.

Bakugou got up with a smirk and offered a hand out to Izuku. Tired from the fight, Izuku accepted the hand and slowly got to his feet.

“Damn it! I swear I had you there!”

“You let yourself get distracted nerd. Although I was almost surprised by your aerial attack, so I’m sure whatever shitty extra you might be fighting against would be blind sided.” Bakugou would never admit it, but if he hadn’t been able to distract Izuku the second time, he might not have been able to win.

The two were lost in their own world of quirk training when a small clap helped them remember they were not alone.

“That was all incredibly impressive, I remember the Mage said something about everyone having powers so I assume you were both using those?”

“Oh! Right! Kit! Sorry, yes we were using our quirks, Kacchan here has a nitroglycerin like sweat and can ignite it at will which causes the explosions that you saw!”

Kit simply nodded at Izuku’s words, taking in the information.

“Wait so then what is your quirk Izuku?”

Izuku seemed shocked by the question, as if he never expected Kit to want to know about his quirk.

“O-oh! My quirk? It's called One For All, basically I can stockpile raw strength, speed, agility, and durability either into a specific body part or all over my body and my quirk enhances my own abilities making them a whole lot stronger. There are some other things that go along with it but it’s not really all that interesting.”

“So, would you say you have quite a bit of raw power?”

“Well I mean I guess so, at least enough to harness my quirk without damaging myself, why?”

“Oh well, I was just curious to see if you would be interested in sparring with me without using your quirk? I would ask Bakugou here but he and I seemed to be pretty evenly matched, it would be boring for us.” Without meaning to Izuku let out a small giggle, comparing their theoretical battle to that of Kirishima and Tetsutetsu. Once the request registered though, Izuku was quick to respond.

“Actually that would be great! It would be nice to see how physically capable I am.”

“Oi nerd. We just fought for over ten minutes straight neither of us pulling any punches, even fighting without your quirk right now would be fucking stupid. Even for you.”

“Are you worried about me Kacchan?” Izuku’s tone was heavily teasing, hoping to tease Bakugou to get back at him for their conversation during their battle.

“Pft fuck no, I just figured All Might wouldn’t want you to be out for the day ‘cause you’re stupid enough to fight back to back without taking a break.”

“Oh I don’t know Kacchan, it sounds to me like you’re worried.” Izuku shot him a teasing smile, completely ignoring the actual advice in Bakugou’s words.

“Fine whatever I’m not carrying your sorry ass back to the dorm when you feel like falling over.”

“Fine, I’ll have Kit carry me back if I have to.” Izuku could see the miniscule trace of anger at the words, but more prominently the amusement.

“Yeah right, good luck with that, I am going to use my brain cells, unlike some people, and take a break before I start fighting again.”

“Alright Kit, let's lay some ground rules, first I won’t use my quirk, second the first to be pinned for ten seconds wins, normal rules, anything you want to add?”

“No, that sounds perfect.”

“Alright we can start in the middle of the arena on three.” As Izuku made his way back to the start position his fatigue slowly started to catch up with him. He elected to ignore it, not wanting to give Bakugou the satisfaction of knowing he was right.

“Alright one… two… three!” They were off again, this time in a much more traditional hand to hand combat fight. There were far fewer bounding moves that shifted the fight setting, unlike Bakugou and Izuku’s previous fight which never stayed in one place for very long.

After many blocked and returned attacks both parties were itching for an interesting turn. Izuku tried to create one by attacking slightly lower but his slowed motions allowed Kit an opportunity to over take him, gripping his arm tightly Kit twisted and pulled Izuku’s body forward, he landed directly on his back, the wind knocked out of him. Kit wasted no time and quickly pinned Izuku down.

Kit straddled Izuku’s thighs to keep his legs in place as his arms pressed firmly on Izuku’s wrists that he pushed up next to his flattened shoulders. Both were panting due to the exertion, Izuku knew in raw strength he didn’t have Bakugou beat and very quickly came to the same conclusion with Kit.

“Stay down for an extra five or ten seconds, I want to see what will happen. Don’t take your eyes off of me either, this is a perfect opportunity to show you what Ashido and I mean.” Kit whispered to Izuku, he responded with a tight nod, he couldn’t help but to be slightly curious.

On the sidelines Bakugou watched the entire match carefully, keeping track of the things he would yell at Izuku for doing wrong as soon as they finished, he saw the exact mistake Izuku made when he attacked lower, he left himself open for an attack. He was about to say so as well until he saw Kit pinning Izuku to the ground. For a reason unbeknownst to Bakugou, he didn’t like the sight.

“Hey it's been ten seconds you idiots can get off the floor now!” Bakugou yelled, just as Kit finished his count to ten. The room seemed to become warmer.

“Ah yes I just wanted to be sure I didn’t let him up early and allow the fight to resume.” Kit spoke matter of factly as he helped Izuku up.

“You know what Kacchan you may have been right.”

“Of fucking course I was right. I’m always right nerd.”

“Will you carry me back to the dorms anyway?” Izuku knew it was a long shot, but he had hopes. It had happened once before, although that was mainly because Bakugou felt guilty for breaking Izuku’s nose, and causing him to pass out, and then he hated the fact that he felt guilty for it ‘Damn it Deku I have a reputation!’

“No, you aren’t broken, for once, you can walk yourself back or better yet go back in time and listen to me ya dipshit.”

“Kacchaaaannn! Fine if you won’t carry me I’m sure Kit will! Right Kit?” Izuku took a chance and hoped it would pay off, maybe Kit would agree to try and prove a point.

“How badly do you actually need to be carried Izuku?”

“Very badly, you guys weigh a ton and both of you were on top of me for at least ten seconds! And! You flipped me over!” Izuku dramatically wagged his finger at the two blonds standing in front of him.

“Oh my goodness you are dramatic, fine Izuku, just come over here before I change my mind.”

Izuku wasted absolutely no time at all, he quickly went to jump on Kit’s back.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh I’m going to jump on your back?”

“No, definitely not happening you will pull me back too far.” Kit gestured for Izuku to climb into his arms, he was soon being carried gracefully like a newlywed bride through a threshold. Kit did not miss the look on Bakugou’s face as he lifted Izuku up.

“Ok, I’m going to trip and almost drop you, just please follow along.” Kit hurriedly whispered into Izuku’s ear.

“What?! Wait!” Izuku tried to get Kit to listen but as Bakugou walked out ahead of them he saw his opportunity.

There was a slightly raised stone that could conceivably be tripped over so Kit ever so slightly changed his path in order to walk over it.

“I just wanted to tell you , Bakugou, that your quirk is quite amazing. How is it that you are so easily able to manage it?” Kit made sure to keep Bakugou’s attention focused on him.

“Tch why wouldn’t I be able to manage it? It’s my own fucking quirk.” Izuku sat confused, loosely holding onto Kit’s neck, listening to their seemingly passive conversation.

Kit was about to walk over the stone, as he did so he let out a short distressed yell.

“Bakugou grab him!” That was the only warning Izuku and Bakugou both got before Kit pushed Izuku off of himself and into Bakugou. Izuku was impressed with his commitment, he actually fell to the floor after he managed to rid himself of the person in his arms.

“Ah! Thanks Kacchan!” Izuku gripped Bakugou’s neck, mostly out of fear of being dropped. Neither made a move to let go as they waited for Kit to correct himself.

Once he was standing Kit continued to walk forward as if nothing had changed, leaving Bakugou and Izuku in the middle of their own centralized heat wave, one that did not affect Kit at all

The blonds finished walking the rest of the way to the dorms while Izuku sat, surprisingly comfortably in Bakugou’s arms. Izuku was carried through the dorm hall doorway before his feet were gently let down.

“Don’t try that shit again ya hear me? I’m not carrying you anymore, you’re just lucky I didn’t drop your sorry ass.” Bakugou’s words may have been more effective if he had looked Izuku in the eyes or had withdrawn the arm around his midsection before he finished speaking.

With a slightly nervous chuckle Izuku responded, “Don’t worry I don’t think I’ll need to be carried anywhere anytime soon, thanks again Kacchan!”

“Tch don’t mention it nerd, I’m going to go shower.”

“No seriously thank you!”

“I swear if anyone hears about this I won’t hesitate to burn you both to a crisp.” Izuku only half believed the threat, he wouldn’t totally put it past him but he had hope. Bakugou quickly made his way to the showers.

“Kit! What the hell was that! Why would you do that?!” Izuku, previously calm, was now frantically questioning the figure beside him.

“That was me proving a point. First he gets uncomfortable with me pinning you down, even though we were sparring and then he willingly carries you most of the way back here, no one would do that for just anyone Izuku.”

“You can’t be serious, thank god I made that deal with Uraraka, at least she will lay off for a little while at least.” Izuku quickly became slightly exasperated, he had hoped everyone would stay out of his nonexistent love life.

“Look Izuku, you two are dancing around each other at this point! A little nudge could go a long way. Like a little nudge of jealousy? Oh please, do not give me that look. Just think about it, please? You have been very kind to me since I have been here and if I can return knowing I helped you two then I will return happy.”

Izuku looked at Kit, trying to find it within himself to decline Kit’s offer. His kind features and overall demeanor made it nearly impossible.

“Ugh ok fine. What do you want to do?” Izuku relented fairly quickly.

“Well I am going to assume that Bakugou is the jealous type, and it would be fairly easy for me to make him jealous.” Izuku already slightly regretted his inability to say no.

“What do you suggest we do?”

“Well I think that I should try to court you! He has already proven to us that he has no qualms with listening to us speak based on his behaviour this morning so if we get him just close enough to hear me begin to court you there is no doubt he will try to intervene.”

“Wait! You mean you want to ask me out? Where Kacchan can hear you?”

“Yes exactly. Is there a problem?”

“Not specifically with this plan of yours, with this situation yes there are many problems none of which can be solved but I already agreed to go along with you and for some reason I trust you so fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine I will go along with this plan and let you ask me out where Kacchan can hear you.”

“Perfect, although we may need some help, I could ask Ashido?”

“NO! Uh um, no why not ask Kirishima? He’s closer to Kacchan and significantly less likely to tell Uraraka and Todoroki what’s happening.”

“Oh yes that could work, let’s go find him.”

“Wha- now?!”

“Yes, quickly before Bakugou is done in the bathing room.”

“Seriously why can’t I just say no every once in a while?”

The two went further into the building to try and find Kirishima, luckily it didn’t take long. They found him sitting with Kaminari on one of the couches in the common room.

Kit pushed Izuku ever so slightly forward once they made their way to the red head, urging him to follow through.

“Hey Kirishima! Do you mind if we steal you for a second? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure Midobro! We can go and chat in my room right down the hall!”

“Alright thanks Kirishima!”

“No problem!”

The three make their way out of the common room and into Kirishima’s room, he wasn’t kidding when he said right down the hall.

“Alright what can I do for you Midobro?” “Well um, you see-”

“We are trying to make Bakugou jealous enough to ask out Izuku.” Kit spoke matter of factly.

“Oh! Ok! How do you guys plan to do that?”

“Well the plan is to get Bakugou close enough for him to hear us, then I am going to try to court Izuku.”

“And make him jealous enough to court Mido here himself.” The two seemed to be on the same page fairly quickly.

“Alright so what do you need me to do?” Kirishima was quick to confirm his acceptance.

“Well we just need to make sure Kacchan can hear Kit, and then maybe give him a little push if he really needs one.”

The trio delved deeper into their plan, coming up with the time and place along with what the three of them will say.

They agreed on the next afternoon, just after lunch in the common room. With their plans in place the three leave Kirishima’s room.

Izuku headed towards the showers, Kirishima headed back to Denki, and Kit went to his temporary room.

Once Izuku was finished in the shower he made his way back to the kitchen for lunch and saw that someone had already made food. He grabbed a plate and sat down at the large table, noticeably everyone had sat in the same seats from dinner the night before.

The room filled with casual talk as class A enjoyed their time off. Izuku had managed to keep relatively quiet the entire time, opting to listen to others as they told funny stories and jokes until Ashido spoke up.

“So Midoriya, what was Bakubro like as a kid?” Her bright smile sold her question to be out of curiosity.

“Oh um I don’t know? Like a younger version of him now I guess?” Izuku knew it was almost a complete lie but he’s not sure how much Bakugou would want him to share. He chanced a look at the blond next to and was surprised to meet his eyes.

Izuku raised his eyebrow in question, hoping to make his point clear. It seemed to work because Bakugou shrugged and made a face that Izuku read as ‘might as well’ before he turned back to his plate.

“Well actually, come to think of it he was pretty different.”

“Like how different?” Ashido asked, hoping to spur the conversation forward.

“Uh well I think the biggest difference is that when we were young he used to be really, um affectionate.” Izuku looked towards Bakugou again to make sure he didn’t cross any lines, Bakugou merely shrugged again.

“No way! Bakubro here used to actually like people?! You gotta give us more!” This time Kaminari was the one to speak up.

“Well honestly this might say more about me than him but whenever we would watch scary movies by the end of it I was usually curled against him trying to block out the screen and all he would do is sit there with me until I stopped freaking out.”

There was a chorus of ‘awww’s from around the table before Uraraka spoke up.

“Well what else?”

“Oh um, I would always hug him. Kacchan hugs were my favourite ‘cause he was always really warm, which thinking back on it was probably the earliest sign of his quirk. Oh! When we would have sleepovers we would always share this one All Might blanket and so by morning we were usually all tangled together because he used to sleep all crazy.” Izuku looked over at Bakugou and started to giggle, as their eyes met Bakugou felt incredibly warm. No one missed the incredibly fond look Izuku directed at Bakugou.

“Oh my gosh! Is Bakubro blushing?!” Ashido was a brave soul.

“What the fuck?! No! I don’t fucking blush its just hot in here! Shut the fuck up pinky!” At his words, the ‘room’ grew even warmer.

Everyone decided to momentarily leave Bakugou alone in order to continue questioning Izuku.

“Tell us more! He sounds so adorable!” Hagakure had now joined in, Izuku had almost forgotten that she was there.

“Uh well what do you want to know?”

“Oh I want to know if you have any cute stories about the two of you!” Uraraka’s interest had doubled.

“Well yeah I guess there are a few.” Izuku thought for a moment, trying to decide what story he should tell. He landed on the one that was more embarrassing for him than Bakugou to try and take the attention off of him.

“When we were like four there was this girl who really liked Kacchan, like a lot. So much so to the point that whenever him and I were playing at the park she was trying to play with us, key word here trying.” Izuku paused for a moment and saw Bakugou looking at him with a questioning face, trying to figure out what story Izuku was telling.

“So basically this girl was inserting herself into everything we did until eventually she proudly announced that she was going to marry Kacchan.” Everyone glanced over at Bakugou, who had now realised what story Izuku was telling. As they looked at him they made their guesses as to what he said to this girl that wanted to marry him.

“So, once she announces that, Kacchan completely ignores it, he acts as if nothing was wrong or weird so the girl announces it again. Now this is where four year old Izuku comes in, not happy that some random girl was trying to marry his best friend. So what did I do? I pull Kacchan up off of the floor by the hand, latch onto him in a vice grip of a hug, look this girl dead in the eyes and tell her ‘you can’t marry him because I’m going to marry him!’ and then I stuck my tongue out at her.” Izuku paused again to let people get out their laughter, he knew there was more to come.

“That's not all! Oh no this girl was adamant that she was going to marry him. So she ignores me and goes straight to Kacchan and tells him ‘you're not allowed to marry him, you can only marry me!’ you know like a four year old. But even back then Kacchan didn’t like anyone telling him what to do so he just holds onto me and tells this little girl ‘I don’t like you I’m going to marry my best friend!’ which he also punctuates by sticking his tongue out at her. And then for the rest of the day Kacchan and I sat on one of the pieces of playground equipment and planned our wedding and our entire life because I almost started to cry when Kacchan said no to me the first time.”

There was laughter and various ‘awww’s from different areas of the table, just as expected, what Izuku didn’t expect is what Bakugou said next.

“Oi nerd tell them about the ‘life’ we planned.” If everyone didn’t know any better, they might have said Bakugou looked affectionate, but everyone did know better.

“Oh my gosh really Kacchan? Fine ok ok. So obviously we were both pro heroes in this ‘life’ of ours, but here's the thing we couldn’t agree on who would be number one so I suggested that we became a hero pair called ‘The Wonder Duo’ so we could both be number one. And then for some reason I decided that we needed to own 6 bunnies, four of which were named variations of All Might.”

“Oh no, don’t try to leave out the other two Deku, tell them what the last two were named and why.”

“Oh jeez, alright fine one of them I decided and I quote ‘One of them has to be called ‘Suki like you Kacchan! That one will be my favourite because it’s named after my favourite person ever! And we'll have one named ‘Zuku like what you call me and he better be your favourite Kacchan!’ and then I made him promise me that this fake bunny was his favourite compared to five other fake bunnies. There, happy now Kacchan?”

“Extremely.”

“There! That’s it I’m done! No more stories about us as kids! He’s happy where I left off so that’s the end of it!”

As much as he protested it, Izuku felt good to know that Bakugou was ok with sharing some of their stories. The rest of lunch avoided any and all conversation about Izuku as a kid and as everyone finished up and dispersed throughout the building Izuku noticed Bakugou hanging around longer than normal, before he could ask why he spoke up.

“Do you remember those matching pajamas we had?”

“You mean the All Might ones with the attachable capes? Yeah I have a picture of us asleep in those underneath that blanket in my room.”

“Really? I didn’t even know there were any pictures like that. Anyways the old hag just texted me saying that she found mine.”

“Oh I’m sure mine is in my closet back at home, along with a bunch of other old All Might shirts and blankets.”

“Once a fanboy, always a fanboy.”

“Oh don’t act like you didn’t freak out when you found out he was going to be our teacher, please. I remember we used to compete to see who was more excited for new All Might stuff. I just never had the urge to be cool, so I decided everyone should know how much I like All Might.”

“Even if you had the urge you could never pull it off, who was it that decided they needed to be carried like a princess back to the dorms today? Hm? Oh yes that's right it was you.” Bakugou let out a genuine laugh, a sound not very many people ever heard but those who had would agree that everyone should hear it at least once.

“Right of course but who was it that carried me? Right right that was you!” Izuku enjoyed the ease with which they could joke with each other, it was a long and hard process but they made it through and things were looking a whole lot better.

“Oh yeah laugh it up nerd. I’m going to go do the school work that was assigned.”

“Kacchan that’s not due until Tuesday, it’s Saturday, you have time.”

“I don’t want to end up like the shitty extras who have to rush through it all at 11 on Monday ‘cause they forgot about it.”

“Alright fair enough, see you at dinner?”

“Yeah I’ll be here, hey don't forget to send me a copy of that picture.” With his words Bakugou quickly made his way out of the room.

Deku smiled to himself if this is how things between them stayed, he could be happy with that.

To kill time before dinner Izuku decided to take out his school books and get started on the work they needed to do, once he finished his main thought was ‘huh maybe Kacchan is on to something here.’ With nothing else to worry about, Izuku decided to watch some TV.

Dinner came and went with more than one question about the apparent fantasy world that managed to find its way into their own. The class seemed to only become more curious as time went on. Once everyone was done many retired to the comfortable couches in the common room.

After about a half hour, class A found their homeroom teacher walking into their common room.

“Listen up everyone I have an announcement. The other Bakugou should be able to go home either tomorrow night or the morning after, the third year student is progressing well and Recovery Girl wanted me to relay the news to you all. That will be all.” Mr. Aizawa exited the room and left behind a jumbled mess of conversation.

Kit seemed relieved and no one could blame him, he had been put in quite the situation with no way out until now.

The people in the room continued to chat and as the night went on eventually everyone made their way to their dorm room, the pleasant air never leaving.

#bakudeku #Bakudeku fic #katsudeku #izukatsu #kacchan #deku #izuku midoriya #Katsuki Bakugō #katsuki x izuku #dekukatsu #bakugou x midoriya #deku x kacchan #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #my hero academia fic #boku no hero academia fic #fantasy meets reality #bnha fantasy au

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starlost-andfound · 5 years

Text

Hidden Hearts // Daniel Seavey

Summary: The boys help set Daniel and Y/N up, seeing as they both like each other but are too scared and shy to admit their hidden feelings.

P.S: This is inspired by my previous post which is a reblog from seavey-siren’s account so shoutout to @seavey-siren for the inspiration. Also, I don’t know how ‘In and Out’ works. Sorry and this is kinda long.

- - -

It was 7:40PM and it was Game Night at the Why Don’t We house. You sat in the circle with the boys and their girlfriends, as they all gathered around for a game of “Spin the Bottle for a Truth or Dare”, as Corbyn had put it. Tate reached forward, spinning the bottle, Daniel’s phone rang. He got up from his spot, answering the call, “You guys can continue,” he whispered before leaving. As he left the room heading outside, to answer the call, the bottle landed on you. Tate grinned, “Truth or dare, y/n?”. You stuttered, “I u-uh truth.”

“Who do you like?”

You blushed, quickly blurting out, “I pick dare!”

Tate smirked, “Well, I dare you to answer your truth.”

Everyone laughed as you looked down at your lap. “Come on, y/n!”, Gabriela said, “Spill the tea!”. You looked up, checking to see if Daniel had left the room before turning to the group. “It’s Daniel.”, you whispered. They all burst out into a series of oohs and giggles, teasing you, “But don’t tell him!”. Just as you said that, Daniel walked in, “Don’t tell who what?”.

The group burst into hysterics as you sat there, stammering, trying to cover up what happened, “I u-uh um, w-well you see, “ you stuttered, pulling on the sleeves of your hoodie, “I was the one who ate your watermelon, two days ago.”, you blurted out. Daniel gasped, throwing his hands in the air, “I knew it had to be you or Zach!”. He sat beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, causing you to blush even harder, “It’s cool though, I couldn’t have finished it myself.” In reality, it was Zach who had eaten the watermelon, but you just really needed a way to escape the situation. Daniel could never find out, because he didn’t feel the same, or at least, you thought so.

- - -

“Hey, you know, you should really tell him that you like him,” Jonah reasoned over the phone, “I’m sure he likes you back.” You sighed, playing with your hair, “You're just saying that to make me feel better about myself.” Jonah sighed, “You do you, y/n. Hey, you still on for tonight?”. You grinned, “Of course, what should I wear?”. Jonah chuckled, “We'll we’re going bowling and then we’re going to have dinner, so casual?”.

You nodded, as you walked over to your closet, looking through your clothes. “Is there anything else?”, you asked. “Oh yeah!”, Jonah said, “Daniel’s coming.”

“WHAT!”, you shrieked, nearly dropping the phone, “I thought he was visiting his family?!”. Jonah winced, “Jeez, y/n, calm down! Yes, Daniel was, but he took an earlier flight here. Anyways, I gotta go, bye!”. You heard Jonah shuffle around, “Jonah! Wait!”, but it was too late, he hung up on you. Daniel was coming. You looked back at your closet. What were you going to wear now?

- - -

You stood in front of your mirror, clad in ripped jeans and a beige sweater. Your hair was done in a ponytail and you wore a simple necklace and your favourite pair of shoes. Casual.

RING RING! RING RING!

You quickly adjusted your outfit before heading downstairs to meet the boys. You opened the door to be met my, of all people, Daniel. Your ‘hey’ seemed to turn into a “H-hi, h-hey!”, you blushed, mentally face-palming yourself. Daniel chuckled, “Hey, you!”, he brought you in for a hug, “I missed you.”. You smiled, as the two of you walked to the car, “Yeah, me too,” you said, no longer stuttering, “How was it, back home?”. Daniel smiled, sending butterflies into your stomach, “Amazing, as usual.”

On the ride there, you sat next to Daniel, seeing as they literally, was no space left in the car. You couldn't help but notice the sly glances everyone else was sending you as you were practically squished into Daniel. Zach sat on the other side of you, nudging you slightly. “What is it?”, you whispered, turning around. He signaled to you and Daniel, forming a heart with his hands. You rolled your eyes, slapping his shoulder. “Cut it out, Zach.” Luckily, Jonah pulled up to the bowling place, before anything else happened

You tightened your bowling shoes’ laces, standing up. “Y/n!”, Daniel yelled. Jack nudged you, “Your boyfriend’s calling you.”. You blushed, playfully pushing him before turning to Daniel who stood with a bowling ball at the lane. “Watch me do this!”, he said. With his back turned to the pins, he threw the ball in between his legs, watching it roll, upside down, to the pins, knocking all of them out. You cheered, with Daniel, clapping your hands as he came towards you. “Beat that, y/n! I dare you.”. You smirked, “You just messed with the wrong girl, Seavey.” Everyone ‘oohed’ as you reached for a ball, walking up to the lane.

You swung your arm back, before sending the ball forward, watching as it knocked down all the pins. “STTRIIIKKEEE!”, Jonah yelled. You giggled turning around, “Hope you were taking some notes, Daniel,” you joked. He rolled your eyes, “The only thing I’ll be taking is the winning title.”. Corbyn, Zach, Jack and Jonah watched your interaction in amusement, “Ready to initiate Part 2 of the plan?”, Jonah asked.

Corbyn grinned and walked up to the two of you, tapping your shoulders, “Hey guys, I know we just came and all, but I’m not feeling to well, so I’m gonna head home.”. You pouted, “Aww, you okay Corbs? Who you going home with?”. He faked being sick, coughing, “Jonah’s going to drop me off. Y’all can take an Uber, if that’s fine.” Daniel smiled, “Yeah of course, man, get better, yeah?”. Corbyn and Jonah left when suddenly, Zach and Jack came up to the both of you, looking sick.

“What’s with you two?”, Daniel asked. Jack groaned, leaning onto Zach, “I think we caught what Corbyn got, probably from the food we had this morning.”. Daniel frowned suspiciously, “Is that so?”. Zach sighed tiredly, “Yeah, man, see ya!”. He quickly pulled on Jack’s arm, and the two dashed out. “Well, that was something,” you chuckled. Daniel sighed, “Indeed, but hey, at least I get to show you how good I am at bowling now,” he said, since you both had to fill in for the boy’s turns. You smirked, “We’ll see about that.”

1 hour later, both you and Daniel sat at the seats outside the bowling centre, arms exhausted from throwing bowling balls. The two of you had tied in first place, calling it a truce. “Who knew bowling was painful?”, Daniel gasped out, shaking his hands to get rid of the soreness. You nodded, laughing, “Guess you learn something new everyday.”

“I saw an In and Out, just across from here. You down?”, he stood up, holding his hand out. You smiled, placing your hand in his, “Sure.” The two you walked hand in hand to In and Out where you ordered some food, takeaway, seeing as the ‘sick’ boys back home would probably be hungry, as you had told Daniel. If only he knew, the only reason you said that was so as to avoid having to sit with him, and having you blush and stutter, making it all the more likely for him to figure out he liked you and reject you. Why did life have to be like this?

Daniel threw his head back, laughing as you waited in line for your food, “They’re always hungry.” Once the two of you had gotten the food, you decided to walk back the boys’ house, seeing as it was only a short distance. “We should do this again, sometime. I had fun,” Daniel said, as he held your hand, swinging it back and forth. You smiled, looking up at him, “Yeah, me too.”, you looked ahead, “ It’s a shame, the boys weren’t there, though. They missed out on my amazing skills.”, you joked. Daniel laughed, again, “Yeah, that’s true,” he said to your surprise. You looked up at him, “What do you mean by that?”. He smiled, “You’re pretty good at bowling y/n, not gonna lie.”.

You chuckled, “I think you’re pretty good at bowling, too.”, you said, ”Well, you’re pretty good at everything; pretty good at instruments, pretty good at singing, pretty good at ping pong, pretty good at being pretty.”, you quickly stopped yourself, blushing, “Sorry, I- uh g-got a l-little carried away.” You looked down, oblivious to the fact that Daniel had blushed too, “Um, it’s ok-okay,” he stuttered, “I think you’re pretty good at being pretty too.” He smiled at you (A/N: *insert smile from the image in my previous post but without the hand*).

The two of you rounded the corner into the Why Don't We household, when Daniel suddenly stopped. You stopped too, turning to him, “What’s wrong?”. He rolled his eyes chuckling, “It seems, y/n” he said, “as though the boys weren't sick at all,” he pointed to the window of the house, where you saw through the light, all the four boys, dancing around as Zach and and Jack jumped up, holding their video game controllers, “Oh my,” you chuckled, “Is it just me, or do you think this all was highly intentional.”

Daniel laughed as the two of you continued walking, Daniel unlocking the door to the house, “Knowing them, it was probably, very highly intentional.” You laughed, entering the house, behind him, holding the bag of food. “We got food, for you ‘sick’ children!”, Daniel joked, ‘air-quoting’ the word sick. You laughed, placing the bag of food onto the kitchen table as the boys rushed in, getting some food for themselves.

Zach grinned, taking a burger from the bag before sitting at the table, “So,” he said, “How was your date?”. Jonah choked on his food and he reached over, smacking Zach’s head, “Zach! You’re exposing the plan!”, he whisper shouted. You chuckled at them, “Your plan was already pretty exposed when we saw you through the window, playing video games,” you admitted. Corbyn threw his hands up, “I told you we should have closed the curtains!”.

“But for the record,” Daniel said, his hand, holding yours, under the table, “I think I speak for both of us when I say, the date was great.”. You blushed, nodding. Suddenly, your phone ringed. “Be right back,” you walked out of the kitchen, to take the call.

Jack high-fived Zach before turning to Daniel, “Just to be clear, this was my idea, so I do expect to be best man at your wedding!”. Corbyn added on, “Just to be clear, I planned it, so I do expect to be the godfather of your children, thank you, very much.”. The two walked out of the room.

Daniel groaned, “Seriously, Corbyn?!”. He looked at Zach and Jonah, “Do you two expect something too?”

Jonah shrugged, sipping on his drink, “Nothing much, just to have one of your children named after me,” he said casually, before walking out. Daniel sighed, “Should have seen that one coming.” He turned to Zach, “What about you?”. Zach grinned, “Nothing much,” he said, getting up, “Just to be able to drive your Tesla, whenever I want.” He walked out, leaving Daniel in the kitchen. “Zach, you can’t do that!”, Daniel laughed, shaking his head. His friends really were one of a kind.

You walked in, placing your phone back in your bag, “Hey, where did the others, go?”, you asked. Daniel turned to you, “To the doctor.” You laughed, walking up to him. “What do you wanna do?”, he asked wrapping his arms around you. You shrugged, resting your head on his chest, as he swung you slightly from side to side, “Dunno, what about you?”

“Would you mind if I showed you some music I was working on and we ate some food?”

You looked up at him, a big smile on your face, “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

- - -

A/N: SORRY, IT’S KINDA BAD

#daniel seavey imagine #daniel seavey #why don't we #why don't we imagine

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phoenix-downer · 5 years

Text

Transform Part 2

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 This story contains world reveal spoilers for KH3.

“Sora? Where are you?” Kairi called, looking this way and that. One moment he’d been walking by her side on the way to get ice cream, and the next—

“Kairi, down here!”

Kairi looked at her feet and gasped. A small toy was staring up at her, its hands resting on her shoe. It… kind of looked like the action figurines Sora and Riku had collected when they were kids. All blocky pieces with joints connected by pegs for easy movement.

No, wait, hang on. Brown hair, blue eyes, black clothes—

“Sora?” she squeaked. But how?

He climbed on top of her shoe, then rested his face in his hands and sighed. “Donald’s magic at work again.”

Donald’s magic was truly impressive. Sora really did look like a toy. If it weren’t for the fact he could walk and talk, she very well might have mistaken him for one.

And… he was also… kinda… really… cute.

Oh, geez. As he looked up at her with that pout on his tiny face, she fought the urge to scoop him up and squeal over how adorable he looked as a toy. His dignity had already taken enough of a hit as it was.

“What did you do this time?” she asked, trying to get her mind onto something else.

“Nothing! I didn’t do anything!”

“Hmmmm.” She considered this for a moment. There had to be a reason for Donald’s wrath, right? Well, either way, Sora couldn’t move very fast in his current form. Stooping low, she held her hand out to him. “Here, you can ride on my shoulder for now.”

He jumped onto her hand and sat down. Slowly, gently, she brought him close, marveling at all the detail in his toy design. Seeing how small he was right now, she couldn’t help but think that she quite literally held his life in her hands. Especially with the way he was looking up at her right now.

She took it all in, his head, his arms, his outstretched legs, then finally her eyes rested on his small black boots.

Wait a second. She tilted her head to get a closer look. Sure enough, written on the soles of one of them in shiny silver ink were the letters K-A-I-R-I.

She stared. Had Donald—

“What is it, Kairi?” Sora asked, looking up at her.

“N-nothing.” She brought him the rest of the way to her shoulder so he could hop on. “What do you say I carry you to my place? We can call Donald and take the pictures and stuff there. It’s gonna get dark outside soon.”

As she tried to get over the fact that Sora was just casually sitting on her shoulder as she walked up the familiar road home, she couldn’t help but wonder.

Why was her name written on his shoe?

Kairi’s house was pretty big, but Sora never thought he’d live to see the day he’d say the same about her dollhouse, too.

She was talking on the phone to Donald when he spotted it in the corner. Huh. What was it doing there? Just like his action figure collection was collecting dust, she hadn’t really played with her dolls in years.

Curious, he made his way over to it and slipped inside the front door. The walls were covered in purple wallpaper, and he wandered around the hallway for a while, impressed by how realistic the candlesticks on the wall seemed now that he was the right size. The little mirror on the wall even showed his reflection, too.

He touched his blocky hair. His spikes really were, well, spiky now. It was kinda weird to look at his own face and see a toy staring back.

Next was the dining room. The table was filled with dozens of tiny plates and lots of food. Too bad it was all just plastic, that rotisserie chicken looked good enough to eat.

Finally he opened the door to the living room and stopped. There was a fake fire going in the fireplace, and sitting on the couch by it were two dolls, a man with brown hair and a woman with red hair.

They didn’t move, as they weren’t like him. But still… red hair and brown hair? Sitting next to each other? Was it just a coincidence, or...

Well, even if it was, Sora had an idea. By the time he was through, the man’s arm was around the woman, and her head sort of rested on his shoulder, inasmuch as he could get them to pose like that.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he exited the dollhouse and went to find Kairi. It wasn’t long before Donald held up his end of the deal and turned him human again.

As he said goodnight, he couldn’t help but hope she would see his message. Not just see it, either; understand and respond somehow, too.

Donald swiped through the next set of pictures. Kairi had put more effort into them this time, going out of her way to get Sora to make goofy poses that about had Donald in tears.

“This is just too good,” he said about the one where he faced off against her dresser with a silly look on his face.

The best one overall, though, was a selfie of him and Kairi. He was sitting on her shoulder and grinning, and she was likewise smiling at the camera.

“Hmmm… better, but could still use some improvement.”

Fiddling with his wand, he prepared the next phase of his plan. Kairi wouldn’t be able to resist this next transformation.

Shoutout to @angel-with-a-pipette again for helping me come up with ideas for the story! She was the one who suggested Sora see Kairi’s dollhouse. And Charlie’s sokai Toy Story art was also a big inspiration :)

Hope you enjoyed!

#sokai #sora #kairi #kingdom hearts #kh3 spoilers #not really spoilery but borrows concepts from KH3 #tagging it just in case #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kh fanfiction #phoenix writes #phoenix downer #fluff #humor #romance

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party-with-books · 6 years

Text

Finally posting the gift for my amazingly talented, funny, dorky, mutual fawning-over-hot-men friend @goldwerewolf!! It’s awkwardly late but Happy Birthday Golden Gal!! (idk where the name came from but it’s stuck now :P)

An angsty Hakyona fanfic is my belated gift to you! I hope you enjoy it! *she laughs maliciously, knowing full well the contents of her story* Plus shoutout to my Beta reader @dillislazii for helping me work out the bugs. Many thanks to you!!

{Based off the saddest scene in Mulan 2. Y'all know which one.}

Also posted on my AO3!

Love Me But Do Not Leave Me ~Chapter 1: Sacrifice Is a Four Letter Word

There once was an ancient tale, that long ago man and woman were once one sole being. Together with four legs and hands plus two heads they lived as one. But the gods feared they were too powerful and as a result split them in two. It is said that though torn apart man and woman would spend their entire lives searching for their opposite half, desperate to reunite once more. When found there was no greater joy, and when death separated them there was no greater sorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sheets of rain descended upon the countryside, the four dragon warriors and Yoon taking shelter under the protection of the mountains side, mournful expressions upon each face.

“We should get the princess out of the rain. She might catch cold.” The somber reluctance Yoon spoke with held no real persuasion. The five companions merely gazed aways off at the redheaded figure on her knees. No one stepped forth. None had the heart to. Thunder rumbled in the near distance, as though agreeing to leave her be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mere hours before Yona and company had been traveling within the mountains dividing the countries of Kouka and Zing, all in high spirits despite the blanket of dark clouds looming above. Zeno was counting on water falling before long, joyfully exclaiming nothing made a landscape shimmer better than a hearty rainstorm. The journey was long and treacherous, though no worse then past trips their group had been on. They’d expected to make it to the mountain’s pass by nightfall, but fate chose to be unkind to them. Bandits praying on passing travelers tried setting their sights on the Happy Hungry Bunch.

Three of the dragons and lightning beast took the large group head-on, the others hanging back in the event they needed long distance aid. Yona hadn’t sensed the figures approaching from behind until Zeno had fallen, being struck on the head and felt arms hoist her up and over a shoulder. A frantic glance around showed the boy genius had been similarly captured as well.

“We got lucky.” The bandit with an ear piercing holding Yona grinned to his partners, the four dashing off with their stolen prizes. “These beauties are bound to fetch us a high price.”

“Hak!!”

The bodyguard finally caught sight of the kidnappers splitting off in different directions.

“Damn it!” Hak grunted, turning towards the other fighting Dragons. “Jaeha, lend me your help!”

The Green Dragon and Lightning Beast took off in different directions, Jaeha leaping right for Yoon while Hak ran forward for the Princess. The bodyguard caught sight of three men as they began crossing the rickety bridge connecting Fuuga to Kuuto. Using his glaive to vault himself onto the bridge, Hak landed smack in the middle next to his target; the unfortunate fool who dared touch his princess.

With a swift kick to the bandit’s leg Hak snatched Princess Yona from his hold, placing her on her feet. Jabbing the bandit straight in the face, the Lightning Beast sent him careening over the bridges side and plummeting down the cliffs deep ridge. The remaining two who’d managed to escape stood at the bridge’s end.

“Screw this.” The bandit with an ear piercing turned to his partner. “Just cut it!”

“Go. Run!” Seizing Yona’s wrist Hak tugged her in front of him and they made a mad dash for the opposite end. They’d managed to make it three-fourths of the way before the bridge’s strength gave way beneath the princess and ex-general’s feet.

Yona reached out in vain for the ledge but grasped only air. A breathless scream ripped from her lips as she felt herself go weightless, squeezing Hak’s hand still holding tight to hers. This is it she thought helplessly. This is how i die. As gravity took hold Yona momentarily felt time slow to a halt. In it she saw Kija, Jaeha, and Shin-ah sprinting towards them, panic etched in their every feature. But she knew they were too far off to make it in time. Squeezing her eyes shut Yona braced herself for the inevitable.

Suddenly, something brushed against her. A thin, rough material. Yona didn’t have time to process what exactly. In a split-second decision, she blindly snatched at whatever it was in the hopes for something good.

Rope! It was rope! Adrenaline raced through her body, the course braid burning the skin of her palm but Yona refused to let go. Gripping tight to Hak they jolted to a halt.

“Princess!” He called below her, both their breaths coming in short, heavy pants. “Are you alright?!”

“I’m fi-ugh!!” Yona grunted, her slim arms under immense strain trying to hold herself and Hak’s combined weight. “Nyghuh…”

Voices up above shouted frantically, the four dragons and boy genius scrambling for a way to reach the pairs only tether to land before it was no more. This is okay. We’re gonna be okay Yona forced herself to repeat, not daring to look down where her dangling feet hung. It’s gonna be alright…

As if on cue there was a sudden jerk, the frail rope holding the princess and lightning beast began to slowly fray, string by string coming undone from the excessive weight. Not good. Not good at all!

“Princess, listen to me.” Yona dared a glance down at her bodyguard, catching a look of resignation in his face that made her stomach clench. “It won’t hold us both…

I need you to let me go.”

“No!!” Yona shook her head furiously, refusing to even acknowledge the idea. “It will! I know it will! It has to!” Tears pricked her eyes at the absurdity of his suggestion, but also from pain creeping up her arms with all the weight she was enduring. Surely Yoon would find a way to save them before…

Another jolt, more violent this time, showed the rope holding them was dangerously close to snapping. Something had to be done and soon.

“Princess…” Hak gently called, looking up to gaze directly into her eyes. His princess, his dearest friend, his only love. “I’m sorry…”

“Stop it! No!!” Face now shrouded in hair Hak released his grip. Yona tried desperately to hold on but his massive hand slipped through her fingers in seconds, his body plummeting downward and swallowed up by the thick mist swirling underneath.

“HAK!!” Yona’s horrified shriek reverberated off the cliff’s sides, tears cascading down her face as she reached out to where he’d just been.

“HAAAAAAAKKKKKK!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Water dripped off the red-headed princess’s skin, the rain soaking her to the bone yet she felt none of it’s chill.

Yona had not wept when they hoisted her from the frail rope, nor had she screamed once on solid land. She simply sat there, tears pouring down her cheeks, face a mask of shock.

Motionlessly she stayed knelt beside the cliffs edge where the bridge remains hung, staring at the lightning beast’s glaive in her hands.

Yona remembered when he’d first got it, the immense strength he possessed when wielding it gave him great pride. He had used it when training her, had taught her to fight and protect not only herself but others as well. And yet what good had that done her? Skill had not saved Hak when he needed help most. The knot within Yona’s chest tightened at the thought. Once more she’d been too weak to save anyone, and this time Hak paid the ultimate price.

She saw her violet eyes in the reflection of the blade’s surface, drained of any emotion save a hollow sadness gazing back at her.

Hak.

A flash of lightning and thunder boomed overhead, replacing the reflection of mournful eyes with ones of sky blue. A steely gaze surrounded by tanned skin and hair of deepest black. Within those eyes she saw silent admiration and a love so intense gazing back at her. Eyes that did not regret their decision.

Yona felt something within her snap, taking the pieces of her already broken heart and shattering them to dust. Her hands gripped tightly the hilt of his weapon.

“HAK!!!“

With a strength she did not know she possessed, Yona raised his glaive high, bringing it down with force enough to bury the blade in the ground before her. Her shoulders shook heavily as she sobbed anew, certain the ache she felt within her heart could never heal. He was gone. Gone in the blink of an eye. Gone…because she couldn’t hold on.

There she stayed till dawn broke through the sky, it’s radiant light painting the scattered clouds intense shades of crimson. And yet none could enjoy the beautiful sight, the only color seen above was that of sky blue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

{*cough and sniffs* Yeah i’m all good, this is fine we’re fine.

If it’s any consolation, Shang DOES live in the end, soooo who’s to say Hak doesn’t also? Eh? Eh? ;D }

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hidden-giggles · 7 years

Text

Story Time! A large compilation of IRL stories

So that “True Tickling Story Asks racked up a fair few requests, a great many of them repeats. The only people I can tag for this response are @crispysoultimemachine, @undermyfeather, and @lettheworldtickleyou. For all y’all anons, I hope you see these! Some overlap, so I may double up, don’t hate me?

Also shoutout to my FAVORITE Halloween film of all time Rocky Horror Picture Show. Oh the filth it involves. If you haven’t been to a live showing, go. I just went to another one and it just doesn’t get old. Pop that Rocky Cherry!

And so it begins! Click to see my adventures below the cut. Featured below, thought perhaps combined will be: 7. A time tickling went on longer than you wanted it to 8. A time someone held down your feet and tickled them 11. The most intense unintentional tickling you’ve ever endured 12. The most embarrassing tickling experience you’ve ever had 13. A time you were tickled in front of people 17. A time you tried to get yourself tickled 20. Your most ticklish pedicure 22. A time you were tickled in a public setting 24. A time you were asked to take off your shoes and it made you legitimately nervous 30. A time someone pulled your shoes off and tickled your feet 32. A time you tickled someone only to bait them into tickling you back

You’ve decided to brave this novel of a post? Well bless your heart. A portion of this will be out of order and covering parts of an 8 hour adventure with this asshole Josh I’m embarrassingly fond of. If you’re reading this, and I’m sure you are, try not to read into this too much or get too pleased. I’ll find a way to achieve revenge and you know it.

And so, starting this saga are numbers 7, 8, 12, 13, 22, and 30.

This summer in Paris, I had the pleasure of hanging out with Josh and showing him some of the sights around the 1st, 4th, and 12th arrondissements (sections of the city) and ordering the stuff we wanted in French. Bless his American heart 😛 But my foyer (dorm I guess?) was women only, and we weren’t about to bug his roommate, so for some 8 hours, we wandered some of my favorite and familiar parts of the city! Which also involved a lot, and I mean a lot of public play that flustered the hell out of me the entire time. And it was fun! But sometimes super duper embarrassing. For the first 45 minutes or so, we were chilling on the banks of the Seine in the 4th arr., just across the way from the islands in the center. We had some prosecco (Italian version of champagne), we relaxed, we chatted, totally surrounded by the dozens of other people doing the same on the grass and in the bars behind us. That did not, however, stop him from making me giggle like mad from head to toe, and I mean that literally. In a number of positions too, the worst of which involved me between his legs and leaning back, his thighs pinning my hands completely. He could reach everything, and I just about reached peak pitch in giggles. And then the ass made it worse. You see, my mouth ran rampant in France. I could say whatever I wanted in English because the kids didn’t know enough to be corrupted and only a portion of the adults knew enough English to understand. Even fewer cared. So when I begged calmly requested he cease fire, I was told to ask in French. The language people actually understood across the board. If people weren’t staring before (they were and it was so much worse knowing that), they were much more aware when I was, 1, begging en francais and 2, not getting my promised pause until a bit longer afterwards because he claimed he couldn’t understand me. I thought I might die, either from overheating with my massive blush or lack of breath for giggling and squealing myself to death. Oh god was I embarrassed, more than ever before, and more thoroughly played like a gosh darn fiddle. So I suppose the beginning of the evening covers numbers 7, 12, 13, and 22. Time skip like 4 hours. Apparently humans require food to function. I must have forgotten to read the “How to be Normal” manual because I had some bread at maybe 8 a.m. and then I didn’t really eat. But I had tea so I was totally hydrated! This is kind of common, my tum just doesn’t hold too much. But Josh, bless him, was less than pleased upon discovering that at midnight. And what’s open in Paris at midnight? Well, in the 1st arr. by the Hotel de Ville, it’s McDo, or McDonald’s. Bet y’all didn’t expect a cultural lesson with a tickling story, did you? And so, at midnight in the center of Paris in early August, we sat in a mostly empty McDonald’s munching on fries. And suddenly, my leg isn’t sitting still but rather being lifted, and shifted, and settled in his lap under the table. And my flip flop is coming off. And my heart stops. Oh god no no no no no, we are in an eating establishment, however casual it may be, being kicked out for disrupting the peace and being less than totally sanitary was not on my to-do list of rules I wanted to break while abroad (don’t follow my lead, learn from my example guys). I tried to pull my foot away, to put it back on the floor even without my shoe, but no such luck. I ankle was held tightly in place, I was stuck, even as his fingers started wiggling over my arches. I was biting my tongue, squeezing my eyes shut, shaking my leg and curling my toes, and I was still a squealing little mess. I begged, desperately, and after a short period of time I secured out exit from the restaurant and got my shoe back for the moment. But oh was I a nervous, flustered little thing. And that’s 8 and 30 for you! This doesn’t cover the entirety of the evening, and I don’t intend to, but those are some snippets to cover my bases!

On 24, I’m thankful to say I don’t recall being explicitly instructed to remove my shoes for any purpose that gave me reason to fear. If my shoes come off, it’s usually of my own volition and conception both.

Numbers 17 and 32 are another combination because I both attempted and succeeded, naturally. I have this nasty tendency to get what I want. Oops 😘🤗 It was a casual day last year in my dorm, and I was in a lounge watching a movie with a couple friends. One was a sister/good friend, the other a a good guy friend. Both knew I was sensitive, but my sister totally isn't when she doesn't want to be (like WTF I still don't know how she controls it?!). However, my dear friend totally is. It's super adorable. I didn't start it, but I totally didn't stop her when she starting poking at his stomach and he started squirming and trying to catch her hands. I was initially staying out of it because I didn't have a death wish, but he was between the two of us and it was just too easy because he couldn't fight the both of us, at least not well. Eventually I got the threat: "You're way worse than me! Keep doing that and you WILL get it back ten times as bad." It was effective for a bit, getting me to stop. And then a little poke. And then a couple more. Casual, spaced out, sneaky. No repercussions. I thought I had escaped, which felt like both victory and defeat. My sister had to go to some meeting, so it was just me and my friend. There was about 30 seconds of silence, just watching whatever movie was on - I couldn't tell you for the life of me what it was. And then: "Okay this has been a long time coming." I've never seen him move that quickly, but his arms shot out and his hands were tickling my stomach and sides before I had time to move or block. And oh was he right, I did get it ten times worse than I gave. For like 15 minutes. Of course he was terribly pleased the entire time I was writhing and squealing - apparently I make entertaining noises and he continues to point that out. It was the worst great kind of thing to happen on a lazy Saturday.

I know I'm totally and completely out of order on these, but hey, why not go with number 11 now? It was a girl's night, with PJs and cookie dough and pizza and I may or may not have been a little tipsy. It was just a little teeny tiny bit of a floaty feeling, I swear! But now I must regrettably inform you, darling reader, how sensitive I can be. Not always! But sometimes it's really bad. So picture this: I'm lounging on the couch, surrounded by my three or four friends, and one casually comments she likes my toenail polish color. Which would be fine and dandy—I was pretty fond of my signature OPI Big Apple Red too—if she didn't touch it. She didn't touch my skin, or even near it. She rubbed the polish on my big toe nail. And I still squeaked, my eyes wide as saucers, my toes curled, and biting my lip hard. Everyone in the room stopped and looked at me, most surprised and a little quizzical. "Are you really that ticklish? Oh my god." And so she did it again, and I jumped. And again, repeatedly, and I started squirming and trying to hold back giggles. And then she touched my toes and arches and I lost any sense of what was going on except for the fact that my friends were figuring out, some for the first time, how outrageously ticklish I am and having fun with it. I squirmed so much, desperate for an end to my embarrassed and unavoidable giggling, that I didn't realize it stopped until my feet were very warm. I opened my eyes. I had literally shoved my feet underneath my friend while she was sitting because her as was protecting them. It was shocking and hilarious enough that she did stop, but the damage had been done. All too many people know about how sensitive I am.

And finally, number 20 is about a pedicure. Which I've already written about. Fairly extensively throughout my blog. No offense, but if you want it you’re welcome to go searching because I’ve written a ton here already. Cool beans?

Thanks for tuning in! If you're interested in me verbalizing any of these experiences, feel free to check out my commission guidelines as they currently stand and pop onto my Ko-Fi with your request! Or just message me your business proposal, direct and upfront about your intentions in my DMs or inbox.

#about me #irl #irl story #sfw #rip rosie #ask me meme #anon #ask #answer #crispysoultimemachine #undermyfeather #lettheworldtickleyou

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daisy-chain-gardens · 7 years

Text

Exchange Romance - Chapter 10

A/N: Hey guys, sorry this took a couple of days to go up but I had a lot of trouble writing it for some reason. It is all fluff though so hopefully you like it. I probably won’t be posting as often after this update because I go back to school on Monday so I’m not sure how much time I’ll have to write. A huge shoutout to @rubyventure for being so supportive and encouraging while I've been writing this ❤️. Please let me know what you think of this chapter and leave me a comment :) (also Tumblr hates me and I put a ‘Keep Reading’ cut in but it’s not showing up on mobile. Sorry!)

Word Count: 4,031 (sorry that it’s a bit shorter than normal)

Ch. 1 // Ch. 2 // Ch. 3 // Ch. 4 // Ch. 5 // Ch. 6 // Ch. 7 // Ch. 8 // Ch. 9 // AO3 link

It had been almost a month since Cheryl’s party and Betty and Jughead hadn’t seemed to be able to get a second alone. Fred had been keeping the boys busy on the construction site, finding them plenty of work since a lot of the crew had gotten sick in the cold weather. They’d both been overwhelmed with homework as soon as school started meaning that the only time they were together without Ronnie and Archie was to study for tests or finish assignments. One Saturday morning, Betty had decided she’d had enough.

Betts: Are you free today?

Juggie: I have nothing planned but it sounds like you might be about to change that

Betts: You know me too well. You want to come over? I don’t think anyone else is home. I’m in the mood for a movie marathon

Juggie: I’m pretty sure Ronnie is here so escaping her sounds great. There’s only so much third wheeling I can handle

Betts: See you soon?

Juggie: On my way xx

Betty smiled at his text before realising that she was still in her pyjamas. She knew that he had already seen her like that but she figured she might as well put a bit of effort in. She’d just finished slipping on her comfiest sweater when she heard a knock at the door, causing her to rush towards it without a second thought.

“That was quick,” Betty remarked as Jughead walked into the apartment, kissing her forehead briefly before replying.

“I may or may not have left as soon as I got your text.” Jughead eyes finally met hers, a shy smile crossing his lips at the confession. Betty crossed the small space between them and wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes so their lips could meet. Jughead’s arms wrapped around her waist, holding her closer. She slowly pulled away from the kiss only to rest her head against his chest.

“I missed you Juggie,” Betty whispered softly. Jughead kissed the top of her hair before resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I missed you too Betts.” Neither of them knows how long they stayed there, holding each other tight and never really wanting to let go. They both reluctantly untangled their arms when Jughead began shivering slightly.

“You ok Jug?” Betty asked, her voice laced with concern.

“I’m fine, just a bit cold. There’s a lot of snow outside today so my boots got soaked through walking here, my jacket a bit as well.” Betty silently took his hand and led him through to the living room, sitting down in front of the fire. Jughead took off his jacket and shoes, placing them in front of the heat in a position he hoped would help them dry. Betty grabbed some blankets from her room before sitting down on the floor in front of the fire, motioning for her boyfriend to join her. Jughead sat down behind her, leaning his back against the couch as Betty grabbed his arms and wrapped them around her. She snuggled into him before grabbing one of the blankets and throwing over both of them.

“I’ve always loved sitting in front of a fire, especially wrapped up in blankets when it’s stormy outside. It always made me feel safe.” Betty said, looking straight ahead at the roaring flames.

“Whenever I had a sleepover at Archie’s house in winter, his mum would always buy us marshmallows and we’d make s'mores in the fireplace in the living room while we watched cartoons. Archie would always spend the longest time trying to find the perfect spot to make the marshmallow just the right colour and then end up getting distracted by the cartoon and turning the marshmallow black. We’d go through a whole bag of marshmallows but Archie would only ever end up eating a handful.” Betty could feel his laugh vibrate through his chest as she snuggled in closer to him, a laugh falling from her lips at the thought of Jughead and Archie as kids. Betty’s phone buzzed from where she’d left it across the room and she reluctantly stood up to grab it.

Ronnie: Hey B, because of the snow everyone’s been told to stay inside so I’m stuck here. Hope you’ll be ok by yourself x

Betts: Ok, thanks V. Jug got here not long ago so I think I’ll be fine. Have a good day x

“Everything ok babe?” Jughead asked from where he was still sitting on the floor.

“Because of the snow everyone’s been told to stay indoors. Looks like I’ll be stuck with you for the rest of the day,” Betty said playfully as she walked over to him.

“I think we’ll manage,” Jughead smiled, pulling Betty down on his lap and showering her face in kisses.

‘Juggie stop! It tickles,” Betty exclaimed through laughs as she tried to wiggle her way out of his arms. He stopped kissing her only to bring his fingers up to tickle her sides seconds late, giving her no relief. Eventually she managed to escape his grasp, collapsing onto the floor in a fit of giggles as Jughead followed her down. They lay beside each other, looking up at they ceiling as they continued laughing, both of them slightly out of breath. All of a sudden, Betty sat up.

“I have an idea.”

——————–

Two hours, six blankets, twenty four safety pins, and a mountain of pillows later, Jughead and Betty were lying inside their newly constructed fort. Betty’s head was resting across Jughead’s chest, his fingers absentmindedly running through her hair.

“I have to say, this is one of the better forts I’ve made,” Betty thought out loud as she stared up at the twinkle lights they’d strung across the blanket ceiling. “But now I’m hungry and I can’t be bothered moving.” Jughead’s grumbling stomach punctuated her sentence and they both burst out laughing, holding onto each other for a moment longer before reluctantly escaping the confines of their fort.

“I’m pretty sure we have leftover pizza but I don’t know how much there is, we might have to make something,” Betty said as she took Jughead’s hand and lead him towards the kitchen.

“What kind of monster has leftover pizza?” Jughead asked, his face morphed into a look of shock. Betty laughed as she walked over to the fridge, leaning up on her tiptoes to grab the boxes that were stacked on the top shelf. Her fingers skimmed the corner but she couldn’t quite grasp it and ended up pushing it further into the fridge. Jughead saw his girlfriend’s struggle and chuckle to himself, causing Betty to turn around and shoot him a steely look.

“You gonna help me or what?” She asked, her eyes cold but her voice playful.

“No that’s ok, I just got comfy,” Jughead said innocently as he sat down on one of the tall bar stools.

“Ok, good thing I can reach the vegetables then. How does salad sound?” Betty didn’t think she’d ever seen Jughead move so fast as he jumped up and easily grabbed the pizza off the shelf, shutting the fridge before Betty could get any other healthy ideas. She doubled over with laughter at the smug look of accomplishment on his face as he put the boxes on the counter. They teased and laughed as they ate their pizza. Jughead insisted on eating cold because apparently it was healthier, a fact Betty found very hard to believe, especially given the amount Jughead consumed.

After the box was empty, they returned to the safety and warmth of their fort and covered themselves in blankets once more. Betty sat up with her back against the pillow mountain, Jughead’s head resting on her legs, claiming it was so his cold feet could be closer to the fire but Betty knew it was just because he liked her playing with his hair.

“Your turn to pick the movie,” she said softly to him, brushing that one stray lock of his raven coloured hair out of his eyes.

“I’m in a mafia kinda mood so ‘The Godfather’?” Jughead suggested, causing Betty to let out a soft laugh.

“How can you be in a ‘mafia kinda mood’?” Betty asked pointedly, already pulling the movie up on her laptop.

“The better question is how can you not?” Jughead waggled his eyebrows playfully as the opening music started playing through the tinny speakers, both of them humming along. Betty’s fingers returned to his hair, running through it mindlessly as they both focused on the screen, watching intently as the story unfolded before their eyes. About an hour into the movie the fairy lights turned off and the town outside the window was dark, hidden behind a thick curtain of snow.

“Crap.” Jughead muttered.

“Good thing I charged my laptop beforehand,” Betty said optimistically, turning her attention back to the screen and trying not to freak out. She could handle the dark at night when she went to sleep but she wasn’t the biggest fan of being plunged into it unexpectedly. Jughead could see her jaw clench slightly and feel her hand still in his hair. He sat up and shuffled over so he was sitting beside her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close before kissing her temple.

“It’s ok Betts,” he reassured her, feeling her curling closer into him at his words.

“Do you think we could finish this later? Blackouts don’t really put me in a marfia kinda mood,” Betty said quietly, looking up at Jughead with a cheeky smile. He kissed her nose and she stuck her tongue out at him, causing him to laugh. Betty loved the feeling of his laugh when she was curled up against his chest. She revelled in the warmth that ran through her whenever she made him happier, even in the smallest ways. He kissed her temple once more before unravelling her from him gently.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

——————–

Jughead returned from his mysterious mission to find Betty curled up by the window. She had a thick green blanket wrapped around her shoulders and she was staring intently out the window, unaware of his presence.

“Betty,” Jughead said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Mhmm,” she replied without turning towards him.

“Everything ok?” He asked, approaching her cautiously after depositing two bags on one of the many tables in the room.

“Yeah, yeah. I just like watching the snow. It makes everything seem so peaceful and quiet.” Betty finally broke out of her reverie to look at him, sending him a small smile as he walked up to her and hugged her from behind, pulling her closer and resting his chin on her head. Betty placed a soft kiss his arm, relaxing into him. They both looked out the window for a long while, watching the snow fall and losing themselves in their own thoughts. Eventually, Jughead unwrapped his arms and she shuffled around to face him.

“I have something for you.” A confused and curious look crossed Betty’s face as Jughead crossed the room and grabbed a bag off the table where he’d left it moments earlier. He returned to Betty and handed it to her. She opened it and held it up to the window, hoping the little light it provided was enough to make the contents of the bag visible.

“Jug! Thank you thank you thank you! Where did you find them?” Betty asked as she pulled one of the many candles out of the large bag.

“Ron once forced me to help her set up for a halloween party or something and I was in charge of candles. I’m kind of surprised they haven’t been moved but I get the feeling they don’t get used very often. There’s matches in the bag as well.” Betty hopped up from he seat and kissed his cheek, bouncing around the room to try and find a home for all the candles.

“I also found marshmallows and skewers,” Jughead said as he pulled them out of the second bag, placing them next to the fire. Betty finished lighting the last candle and then came over to him, throwing her arms around his neck and leaning up so their foreheads touched.

“There’s no one else I’d rather be stuck in a blackout with,” she whispered softly, blue eyes meeting green.

“I love you Betts,” Jughead said. Betty leant forward and pressed her lips against his, soft and sweet. They held each other for a moment longer before sitting down and opening up the bag of marshmallows. Jughead’s arm rested in its usual position around Betty’s shoulders and her head subconsciously onto his shoulder as the held out their sticks. They spent the next half an hour in a comfortable silence, both of them content to just sit in each other’s presence and watch the flames lick at the marshmallows, turning the soft pinks to brown.

Once the packet was empty and they’d both eaten a sufficient amount of sugar, Jughead pulled out his phone and put his music on shuffle before extending a hand to Betty.

“Care to dance babe?” A bright smile crossed her face at the gesture, pausing for a second before she nodded eagerly.

“If you insist,” she said with a giggle. They stood up rather ungracefully and then started dancing around the living room, both a mess of laughter and smiles. Jughead span her around in circles and she tried to return the favour, a task that proved to be rather awkward due to his height.

“Where did you learn to dance like that Juggie?” Betty asked as she stepped on his toes for the fifth time in as many minutes.

“Jellybean was very persistent.” Betty laughed again, imagining Jughead as a child while he pranced around the room with his little sister.

“She seems like a great kid,” she said gently, leaning into his chest.

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool,” Jughead said and Betty could hear the sad smile in voice as he thought about his sister. She ducked her head up and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before returning to her previous position.

“I miss my sister too.” They stood there in each other’s arms, moving to the music but not really hearing it, until Jughead’s phone ran out of songs and the world outside the frosty window turned dark.

——————–

“Jug, I don’t care. You can’t sleep in denim,” Betty argued as she shuffled through her closet, searching for something which would have any remote chance of fitting.

“It’s fine, really Betts, I don’t mind,” Jughead tried to convince her from his spot on her bed. Betty refused to answer as she carried on her search, refusing to back down.

“Here, this should fit.” Betty chucked a large t-shirt at him, a satisfied grin on her face. The t-shirt was white with a colourful camp logo plastered on the front. In other words, it didn’t exactly look like Betty’s normal wardrobe.

“Where did that come from?” Jughead asked, trying to sound nonchalant but not doing too well.

“Oh, um, it’s Kevin’s,” Betty said, her eyes trained to the carpet.

“Why do you have Kevin’s t-shirt?” Now Jughead just sounded curious as he shrugged off his flannel and pulled the offending shirt on over his singlet. He knew that Kevin was her best friend but he still felt kind of strange that Betty had his shirt in her wardrobe.

“I think I borrowed it at a sleepover one time and forgot to give it back. I wear it when I get homesick,” Betty confessed as she turned around to find her own pyjamas. Jughead silently stood up from the bed and walked up behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist in what he hoped was a comforting action. She wasn’t very comfortable talking about her feelings which Jughead suspected was largely due to a childhood lead by Alice Cooper. Betty struggled to admit when she was feeling sad or lonely or tired or overwhelmed but Jughead was starting to recognise her tells. Sometimes she clenched her jaw, or brushed imaginary dirt off her sweater, or avoided eye contact, or played with her hair incessantly. Normally he could calm her down with a touch or whispered words of encouragement but sometimes she needed more than that. Luckily, this wasn’t one of those times. Jughead could feel her melt into him as she continued shuffling through her drawer, eventually settling on long flannel pants and an old t-shirt.

“How do you do that?” Betty asked, finally turning to face him.

“Do what?”

“You always know how to make me feel better,” she said simply.

“I don’t know if you heard but I was kind of the social outcast before you came around. I like to think I’m good at reading people,” Jughead replied softly, dropping his forehead to rest against hers as her arms reached up around his neck

“Jughead Jones, I love you.”

“I love you Betty Cooper.” The kiss was soft but so full of emotion that Betty was left gasping for air.

“I need to go and get my pyjamas on,” she said breathlessly, leaning into him once more. He placed a single kiss on her temple before she unwrapped her arms and walked towards the bathroom. Jughead pulled off his jeans, leaving him in his boxers and Kevin’s t-shirt, before jumping under the covers of Betty’s bed and pulling the blankets up around him. He grabbed his phone and book off the floor, turning on the torch and flipping to the dog eared page.

Betty emerged not long after, dumping her clothes in her laundry hamper before joining him under the covers and curling into his side. She placed a tiny kiss on his shoulder before stealing half of his blankets and burying herself under them. Jughead chuckled to himself before putting turning off his phone and putting down his book. He turned to face her and placed one arm on her hip, pulling them closer together.

“Goodnight Betts,” he said gently.

“Mhmm,” she hummed with her eyes closed, curling closer into his as sleep dragged her under.

——————–

Betty felt like she was in a furnace and proceeded to kick off all the blankets once her limbs had woken up. Jughead was still asleep and stirred slightly at her movements, wrapping his arm tighter around her so she couldn’t escape. Betty kissed the end of his nose, giggling quietly when he scrunched it up. She managed to reach over to her dresser and grab her phone without waking Jughead up any further. Her phone lit up with countless messages from Ronnie, Hermione, and even Alice.

Ronnie: Sorry I can’t get home! My shoes will be ruined in this weather and I’ll probably break an ankle without any light. Hopefully Jughead’s keeping you occupied…

Ronnie: Archiekins told me to tell you to tell Jughead that he doesn’t need to help Fred tomorrow

Hermione: I hope you girls are ok, Hiram and I will be home tomorrow evening. Let Smithers know if you need anything.

Alice: Wear warm clothing and avoid going outside.

Betty let out a silent laugh at her mother’s message. How is it possible that Alice can’t manage to figure out timezones after five months but she knew as soon as there was a snowstorm? That woman would always be a mystery.

She replied to all of her messages, reassuring everyone that they were fine but skillfully avoiding telling Hermione and her mother that it was only Jughead and her in the huge apartment. Ronnie replied immediately saying that the snow had started to clear so she’d me coming home later that morning.

Jughead woke up a short while later to find Betty awake in front of him. A sleepy smile crossed his face at the sight of her lying there reading his book, her cheeks slightly flushed from the warmth of the blankets and her hair messy from sleep.

“Hey,” Jughead said quietly, his voice still hoarse.

“Hey,” Betty replied, looking up from his book and smiling at him.

“I missed this.” He said simply.

“Missed what?”

“Waking up next to you and having you all to myself without school work or actual work or Ron.” Betty laughed, curling into him once again.

“I missed you too,” she said as she placed a soft kiss on his lips. “But I was just about to make breakfast so do you wanna come help?” Jughead chuckled and kissed her forehead before pulling back the few blankets Betty hadn’t stolen in the night. They made their way to the kitchen and settled into a routine they had somehow done several times over the last few months.

——————–

Veronica let herself into the apartment mid morning and was hit with the smell of bacon and pancakes, she made her way to the kitchen but stopped in her tracks when she spotted a giant blanket fort in the middle of the living room.

“Well that definitely wasn’t there before,” Veronica muttered to herself before continuing on her journey towards the kitchen. She opened the door slowly when she got to the kitchen, already able to hear two distinct voices. A happy smile crossed her face once she opened it fully. Betty was standing by the stove flipping pancakes while Jughead set the table, both of them laughing and sending each other loving looks.

“Hey guys, how was your blackout?” Ronnie asked as if she hadn’t interrupted anything. Her surprise entrance caused Betty to jump and she dropped a pancake on the floor, causing them all to burst out in a fit of laughter.

“It was fine thanks V. How was Archie?” Betty asked once she’d recovered, carrying a loaded plate of pancakes to the table.

“You would think that being locked in a house with Archie for 24 hours would be a lot of fun, and I’m sure it would’ve been if his dad wasn’t also locked in that same house with us,” Ronnie said as she grabbed some grapes out of the fruit bowl.

“At least Fred’s nice. I couldn’t imagine being stuck in a house with my mother for 24 hours.” Betty shivered at the thought. She couldn’t handle the hour long phone calls with her mother and they weren’t even in the same country let alone the same room. It certainly was going to be interesting living with her again when she went home.

“Yeah but it’s not so easy to sleep with archie when his dad is watching our every mood,” Ronnie said as if it was no big deal. Betty choked on the piece of pancake she had just been eating and Jughead quickly rushed over to her and rubbed her back.

“A little but too much much information there Ron,” Jughead said with the steely look he got in his eye whenever he was being protective of Betty. “You ok babe?”

“Yeah, nah. I’ll be fine,” she assured him although her voice wasn’t quite normal.

“I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand what you say B,” Ronnie said in fascination as she joined them at the table, helping herself to a pancake. “By the way, why is there a fort in the living room?” She asked as she poured herself some orange juice, taking a moment to observe the couple before starting on her pancake.

“The real question is why wasn’t there a fort there in the first place?” Jughead quipped as he returned to his seat, loading four pancakes onto his plate and cutting into all of them at once, taking a huge bite as he maintained eye contact with Ronnie.

“Nice shirt,” was all she said in response before she left the room, abandoning her pancake and leaving a confused Jughead in her wake. He looked down and realised that the shirt wasn’t from a camp, as he had originally thought, but rather advertising an LGBTQ+ club at Kevin’s school. Betty laughed as his cheeks grew red at the realisation, wondering how Betty forgot to mention that.

“Shut up,” he said with a grin as he took another bite of his pancakes.

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