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yungbludy · 4 years

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the hills have eyes

plot ↬ being attracted to one overwhelming person known as yungblud is alresdy too much for you. adding mgk in the mix is even worse.

warnings ↬ there’s tension here yes yes, smut!! threesome!! fingering & handjobs, writing colson is so fun i didn’t realize how hot he was lol 😳, hint at something going on between colson & dom, dom & reader like each other, maybe a pt 2?

a/n ↬ i know y’all have been wanting this for the LONGEST, and it’s easily my most requested fic. enjoy it!

When you left college with a degree in music production, you never would’ve expected to land in the studio of Yungblud, a young but upcoming artist with his own charm to set him apart from the rest. He was easily the most hyperactive artist you’ve worked with, someone with a truly pure heart that cared deeply for his music and his fans. It was a breath of fresh air, because out of all the artists you’ve worked with—big and small, you don’t think you’ve ever come across someone so genuine.

It was almost fate how you went from being in the studio with him every other week to nearly every day. He loved your presence; you made him see things differently, made him hear things he had never heard before. You made him feel smarter, more experienced.

A friendship blossomed. It was nice, because you didn’t have that many friends when you left college. Dominic introduced you to other people too, such as his band mate Adam, and they adored you. You were the calm before the storm of Dominic in their eyes. You balanced each other out, like some rock n’ roll version of a Yin and Yang.

Before you would hang out in groups. You, Dominic, and maybe a few other friends attending concerts or going to a restaurant together. You liked it—these people knew you and liked you, and you felt like you had a place.

You didn’t know when the... shift started. When it started becoming just you, and Dominic. When he texted you if you wanted to hang out at his place, (not a date or anything, just hanging out lol 🖤). When you still saw your friends, but you were seeing Dominic’s face more and more.

But you knew as soon as that started happening, that the feelings you had for Dominic—as a friend and as a partner, started becoming way too deep way too fast.

And honestly? It scared you. Your last relationship was in college and that didn’t go so well because you both had different outlooks on how you wanted to continue your life. You weren’t ever a relationship type of person and barely found yourself developing fucking crushes on people.

But you were crushing on Dominic. Hard.

As cliche as it sounds, being around him gave you literal butterflies. Seeing texts from him made you smile, and when his arms wrapped around you and he looked at you with all his teeth out, his eyes clenched shut—God. You were falling, and you were falling hard.

That was, until, Colson came into the mix.

You liked some of his music. You weren’t a big fan of “MGK”, and only really knew about him because of the whole beef he had with Eminem. You remembered that one song—fucking Wild Boy, being played in a few clubs and parties during college, but you didn’t have any liking towards him.

But... wow. He and Dominic together were a force to be reckoned with.

Colson was a good person. A loving father and a talented individual—not to mention he was also fucking hilarious too. Having him around in the studio guaranteed no bad days, because he could also make you feel better with a corny joke or a funny assortment of curse words.

You liked him, over time. Not to mention he was drop dead gorgeous, tall and tatted and pierced and just... fuck. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t intimidated by his presence.

But in reality, he was a sweetheart. A gentleman.

So why did you start feeling butterflies for him too?

Having a crush on two people just seemed so out of this world to you that you didn’t even understand it. It made no sense. You and Dominic had known each other longer, and you weren’t dumb—you knew he liked you back. But with Colson.. you didn’t know if those butterflies were in your stomach, or if they were somewhere were they definitely, definitely shouldn’t fucking be.

You were good at controlling yourself when it came to these two. It had been a few weeks since you’ve met Colson and two months since you met Dominic. They were working on music together—a song, that they didn’t know what to title yet, and you were right there, helping them with everything.

This also meant that they were together. All. Of. The. Time.

Having two extremely attractive men, men that you were also extremely attracted too together all the time was going to be very bad for your health. But all three of you had a main goal at the end of the day, and that was to make a song together. They wanted to make a song that pertained to them, that took both of their struggles and related them to each other. Being Dominic’s right-hand-man at this point, you were more than happy to oblige in helping.

But you just didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.

“Maybe some shit that’s like, kinda emo, kinda not?”

“Kells, man... you need to /make/ that make sense.”

You can’t help the laugh that leaves you, smiling when both of their heads turn towards you.

“Y’all are just cute when you bicker.”

“Y/NNNNN,” Colson whines a little, his arms stretching to drape over your body. God, he has so many tattoos that you couldn’t possibly count them on your two hands and feet. “Help us. I’ve never been this stuck on a song.”

“Well, a mix of punk and rap, right?” You asked, humming as you scoot up to your monitor, going through a list of sample beats you always stored when songs were being made.

“That sounds ‘bout right,” Dominic spoke, both of his elbows being placed on his knees as he looked up at you. “Think that’s a perfect mix of us two, yeah?”

You picked out some beats—layering some, taking some away. While this process could be therapeutic to you, it could be also quite annoying, and it would’ve been if it wasn’t for the two grown men looming over your shoulder.

“What about this one,” you almost jumped as you heard Colson right near your ear, his voice powered into a whisper. He reached over you, his skin brushing against yours and you had to force yourself to look at the screen. Jesus Christ, you really needed to get laid. “How’s that?”

“‘ts good. I like it fo’ now!” Dominic joked, and a laugh rumbled in you stomach. “If we don’t like it, we could always change it tomoro or somethin’.”

“Okay, well, beats settled... now we need some lyrics.” you spoke, backing up a little—you would’ve backed up farther if Colson’s arm wasn’t on the back of your chair. “Got any?”

Silence. You rolled your eyes—you had told them days prior to come with lyrics. Nothing had to rhyme, but something to make an idea off of.

“Too busy clubbing to write lyrics-great.” you huffed, shaking your head as you stood to leave, but two hands reached out to stop you.

“Sorryyy, that’s our fault, really.” Colson spoke, locking eyes with you when you turned to look at the both of them. “Let’s make some together, yeah? All three of us motherfuckers. You know we couldn’t make up good lyrics without you anyway.”

You caved. Goddammit, he was so good at charming you and so good at fucking /flirting/. You found yourself sitting back down with a notebook out in just a few minutes of playful begging from the two of them.

“Since I watched The Hills Have Eyes for the first time yesterday with you two wankstains, I think that should be incorporated into here~” Dominic giggled, scribbling down the title of the infamous horror movie on a piece of notebook paper. “Where did all that shit happen, by the way? New York, Cali, Las Ve-“

“No, dipshit, Nevada. Did you watch the movie at all?” Colson huffed, reaching over to flick Dominic in the center of his forehead, in which the British male playfully bit down on Colson’s finger. The blonde grinned, and your eyebrows furrowed. What the hell?

“Nevada’s by Cali so we’re using California.” Dominic shrugged, scribbling more words down. “How’s... I wunna hide in the hills of California—but these hills have eyes, and I have paranoia?”

It took you a minute but you eventually nodded at it. “If we revise it a little bit then—yeah, that could work!”

“Awesome! Maybe you should get on your shit, Kells.” Dominic teased him, pink tongue pointing out at Colson, and your lips twitched.

“Fuck off.” Colson continued that grin—that little smirk, like they both knew something you didn’t. The day dragged on—more lyrics, more laughing, more inside jokes. By the time the session ended you were exhausted, your head kinda hurt, and you wanted nothing more than to head home and sleep, but Dominic stopped you before you left completely.

“Are you alright?” he asked, your hand in his as he looked at you with slight worry. His hair was pushed back, so he looked just too adorable with his forehead out and crinkled. He was worried. Worried about you, and that made your heart flutter.

“I think I’m good, just a little tired,” you offered a reassuring smile, lifting your bag up to your shoulder. “Why?”

“You seemed a little out of it,” he remarked, keeping your hand in his as he started to walk next to you. This was normal—Dominic walking you out to your car, then watching you drive to your apartment after he gave you a kiss goodbye, of course; some of them were on your forehead, some cheeks, and most recently, he’s teasingly brushed his lips against yours, only to see you blush and frantically push him away. “Just making sure you’re alright.”

“I’ll be okay, Dom,” you snicker, but you just love the fact that he can see through you. See when you’re uncomfortable or feel weird. “Thanks, though.”

“Of course darlin’,” his voice has dropped in volume and when you look at him, his eyes are boring into yours. You blink. “Drive home safe, yeah?!”

Both of his hands grab your face, squishing your cheeks—and you sputter a laugh as he kisses all over your face. Covering your forehead, your nose, your cheeks—and finally resting at your lips.

It’s like time has stopped. You smile, feeling warm—his hands haven’t left your face and you can feel his warm breath against your mouth. He leans in closer, and you feel that familiar thrum in your chest, his lips brushing against yours one, two, three times, before he only pecks you and pulls away.

You don’t even remember closing your eyes, but when they open, he’s walking back into the building, leaving you feeling lost.

To make it up for you for yesterday, the dynamic duo wanted to spend the entire day getting a good portion of the song done. This meant you had to wake up at nine am to be at the studio, something you were definitely not looking forward to, but you couldn’t complain about it. You three had a pretty good work ethnic, so you knew once you would get there, time would probably fly by.

You came to the studio in some fuzzy Hello Kitty pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt, not bothering to dress up too much since you would possibly be here all day. You didn’t look your best, but by the way Dominic’s eyes scanned you when you walked into the studio, you doubted he really cared.

“Well hello kitty-kat,” you heard Colson’s amused tone from the small couch by the door behind you, his body approaching yours to walk past you. His hand slipped over your waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “Doesn’t Y/N just look the absolute cutest.”

“Shut up, asshole.” You grumbled, your cheeks hot as you ditched your slippers and made your way to your seat. You stretched, hearing some bones crack in your back, a tired yawn leaving your lips before returning to your sitting position and opening up your notebook. “So. Where are we starting today?”

When you looked up, both of them looked a little dazed—but the expressions disappeared in just a few seconds. That was weird.

“Welllll, I think I’ve got a title,” Dominic grinned cheekily, standing up with his hands clasped. “I liked what ya said yesterday... I think I’m good. That sounds pretty—American, doesn’t it?”

“Eh...” you started, but quickly took it back when Dominic’s face fell almost comically. “No! It’s not bad, but, I don’t know... how about another word, other than good?”

“Fine?” Dominic asked, looking at you with a smirk. Confusion racked through you.

“Okay,” Colson spoke up, reading over the page of lyrics with narrowed, concentrated eyes. “I think I’m okay.”

You contemplated it. It reminded you of My Chemical Romance, but there wasn’t anything wrong with that... their fans would probably like that, too.”

“I think I’m okay. Yeah, I like that.” you smiled, moving to your monitor to title the beats you already had. I Think I’m Okay.

“Perfect.” you beamed. “Now let’s get to work.”

The day went by pretty smoothly. Dominic and Colson worked better than you thought, and in your opinion, you were the icing to their cake. Being a producer meant you were there to perfect things—add something to make them sound just a tad bit better, to make the song flow just a little smoother. Perfecting the beats was something you absolutely adored to do, especially when you felt them both staring at the side of your face as you did it.

They admired you. And that sent shivers down your spine.

“Jesus fuck, ‘m hungry.” you grumbled. The clock above your head read two pm, meaning you had been here for six hours total. It wouldn’t have seemed like that if your stomach wasn’t grumbling like crazy.

“We can tell.” Colson joked, his fingers poking at your tummy. “Kitty’s talking to us.”

You knew it didn’t mean to be an innuendo, but you took it that way, and you’re sure Dominic probably did too with the expression that crossed his face.

“I’ll order some pizza.” Dominic sung out, British accent flowing through the air as he stood to grab his phone and leave. You had been alone with Colson once before, but that was before you recognized your attraction towards the male. Now, you were very, very aware of the fact.

“Cmon kitty, you’ve been sitting in that chair for hours and I know that ass hurts,” Colson smirked knowingly, grabbing your hands to lift you out of your seat. “Lemme help you stretch~”

“I don’t need help, you damn skyscraper.” You said stubbornly, but Colson paid no mind to you, grabbing both of your arms and lifting them above your head. It did make you feel much better, and you would’ve stayed in the position if his long fingers didn’t suddenly dig in your sides and under your armpit.

“I-get off of me!” you laughed loudly, squirming in his tight hold as he squeezed you even closer to his body. You could feel his chest press against your back, but you weren’t focused on it, just how much you were laughing from his antics.

“Hell nah! I’ve barely seen you laugh today, kitty~” he purred into your ear, and your thighs clenched. “Keep on fighting, nothing will happen babe.”

“Fuck you!” you shouted, successfully finding your way out of his grasp, but that didn’t stop him at all. He grabbed you again and while he did so, you were moving backwards—eventually landing you both on the small couch in the room. You wiggled your arms through his grip, letting your fingers dig into his sides in a similar manner—and your smile hurt with how loud he started laughing afterwards. You were sure after the short five minutes the tickle attack took that you were all over the place, and so was he—panting on top of you with both arms over your body.

“You’re an asshole.” you murmured against his shoulder, since his body was draped over yours. You wished it would’ve stayed that way, because he lifted himself, and you turned into jelly with how he looked at you—and that stupid fucking grin that spread across his face.

“Got you to laugh, didn’t I?” he asked, rolling off of you. The warmth that left your body—from your stomach, ribs, and a few inches below your bra, told you that the tickle fight was much, much more than that.

A month had passed since that day. It was more then enough time for more tension filled encounters—more of Colson’s hands on you, more of Dominic’s teasing kisses. It had gotten so bad that you needed to excuse yourself in the middle of a session to calm yourself down in the bathroom, because holy hell. Those boys were a lot—and the fact you had the audacity to think about taking both of them at once. You literally could never.

The song wasn’t that hard to make. With a few more helping hands, plus your expertise and their work as well, it was nearly done. Final vocals just needed to be recorded and some cleans up—and then, I Think I’m Okay would be released to the world.

This Friday would be a night that all three of you would go out clubbing, but you decided to visit the studio to listen to the rough draft the two had recorded previously. You were in matching all black outfits which definitely wasn’t planned. The dress you were wearing was a bit out of your comfort zone, but you decided—why not? You wouldn’t be the only girl there and you knew you looked decent, at least.

“Wow,” you murmur, a little speechless as the rough vocals of I Think I’m Okay fill the studio at full volume. The lights are off because it’s dark, so the only source of light in the room is your monitor. “Wow. We fucked this up.”

“What?!” Dominic shouted, eyes wide. You laughed.

“Not in that way! I mean, we fucked this, in a really good way.” you said, excited, bouncing a little in your seat. “Fuuuck, can’t wait to release this shit.”

Colson’s hand is hot and heavy when you feel it against your thigh, playing with the hem of your dress. “Couldn’t do it without you, kitty.”

You swallow. No, not tonight. You were going to have fun tonight. Not be in a state of sexual frustration because of these two.

“Right,” Dominic hummed, and you freeze when his arm wraps around your waist, his chin on your shoulder. “Y/N, I never really thank ya properly for all you do for me, do I?”

“Huh? Of course you do.” you tell him, but you’re a bit distracted by Colson’s wandering hand. It shifts, moving to the inside of your thigh, rubbing softly at your skin. His thumb is close, too close to your pussy, but you don’t push his hand away, because you don’t want to.

You like it. You want his hand to come closer, just a little closer—

“I don’t,” Dominic whispers, those thick lips brushing against your ear, and you almost jump out of your skin. “I should.”

“Dom...” you whisper nervously, eyes widening when his hand slides to the middle of your back and up your spine, fingers locking at the zipper. The slide of your dress being unzipped goes along perfectly o the tempo of the song, and so does Colson’s molding of your thigh, his hand eventually finding way because your closed legs, pressing right up against your underwear.

“Think the kitty wants me,” Colson sighs huskily, and your jaw drops. Holy fuck. “Am I wrong?”

“Is he?” Dominic presses when you don’t answer, his hand somehow making its way inside your dress, finding its way to your sleeves and yanking them down. Oh, fuck. “Ya want us both, don’t ya darlin’?”

“Oh my god.” is all you can whisper, earning chuckles from both of the men who play so deviously with your body. Colson finds your clit with no help at all, pressing against the little bud, right as Dominic takes both of your breasts out of your bra and palms them hungrily. Two sets of hands touching you makes your head roll back, and you can only comply as one of Colson’s hands presses against your left thigh, spreading your legs open.

“Put your legs on the desk for me, pretty,” he whispers and you do so, heels still on your feet. “Mm, yeah, that’s good—damn, look at you. So fucking hot.”

To your surprise, it seems like Colson is doing most of the talking, since Dominic’s mouth finds itself on one your perked nipples. He sucks it into his mouth, making it all pert and wet and your toes curl against the velvet surface of your shoe.

“When I had you on that couch, I wanted to ram the shit out of you, even if you were wearing those stupid ass pants,” Colson tells you, slipping your panties to the side and dragging his fingers up your slit. You’re almost embarrassed from how wet you sound. “Had to remember the British cunt has a little crush on you, though. Didn’t wanna break his heart.”

“Fuck off, ya asshole.” Dominic’s mouth leaves your breast, cheeks red at the fact that he was just exposed like that. “I was gonna tell her that my fookin self!”

“You’re telling me she didn’t know?” Colson chuckled, one of his hands grabbing your chin to roll your head towards him. “Did you?”

“Mmf—I-I knew,” you murmured helplessly, your back aching as two long, thin fingers push inside of you, spreading themselves. “Always knew.”

“But I like you too, kitty, maybe like you even more than him,” Colson smirks, his mouth pressing against yours, and you bite down on his lip when Dominic bites down against your nipple. “Now we’re both gonna make our girl cum.”

Our girl.

You could cum from those words alone.

Colson’s fingers work magic inside of you, pressing further until you feel lightheaded, then easing themselves out and repeating the process. Dominic’s fingers find your clit, rubbing it quicker then the pink vibrator you used before even getting dressed. Your hands are against both of their thighs as your body grinds down against them, both of their mouths meeting yours at different times, kissing you or letting you moan out against their mouths. I Think I’m Okay plays over and over again with no one to stop it, hiding your loud sounds.

You’re close. So, so close, but you don’t want to cum without giving them some type of pleasure—so, to the best of your ability, you start to unzip their pants, bulges very angry underneath the fabric.

“Ooh, fook yeah,” Dominic whispers, taking his jeans off quickly and wrapping your hand around his cock, going cross eyed at the feeling. “Yeah, jerk my fuckin cock.”

Colson isn’t too far behind in revealing himself. You try to stroke them both, but you’re so overwhelmed that sometimes your pace quickens on one and slows on the other. Their bodies are pressed as tightly as they can be against yours, and sometimes wet fingers find their way against your neck, or grabbing at your chests—with wide open mouths against your face.

“I-I think I’m gonna cum,” your pant out, your hips rolling in circles and your grip on their cocks growing even tighter, causing them to make their own sounds of delight. “So close-“

“Cum, kitty kitty,” Colson tells you, his lips wrapping around your earlobe. “Soak this fucking chair, pretty.”

And that’s exactly what you do.

Dominic busts right after you, feeling your clit spasm against his fingers was enough to send him over the edge. Colson isn’t too far behind, getting extra leverage because of both of your cum covered hands jerking him off until he shoots his seed out as far as it can go. It’s a heavenly sight, and for the first time you hear him whimper—a sound that’ll be engraved in your mind for days.

You three sit there, panting, covered in sweat and cum. You lick your lips, your hearing picking up the two shifting to clean you up and dress you, much to your confusion.

“What? You think you were gonna cum once tonight and that would be it?” Colson chuckled, already helping you out of your chair.

“Just wait till we get to this club,” Dominic continues, his hand tightly groping your ass. “You’re gonna have the night of your fucking life.”

And you’re certain that you will.

#dominic harrison #yungblud #yungblud fanfiction #dominic harrison fanfiction #yungblud imagine #colson baker #mgk #mgk smut #colson baker smut #mgk fanfiction #mgk imagine #mgk x reader #yungblud x reader

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kulaykape · 3 years

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Ina Kingsley x MC: A Love Confession

Context for fic: MC and Ina aren’t yet together, but they’re definitely close.

Warning: This is for the angsty goblins.

tags: @sakaily @astrangeandunusualgirl @citybornchick @thedaft1 @jenxespinoza @samanthadalton @hellyeah90sbaby @kaitlynliaofanxx @nydeiri @thepotatobleh @justtryingtofillthevoidxx

•••

"If you could all take your seats, we'll begin class in just a moment," Ina said as she strode into the lecture hall. Like always, her presence commanded respect, and voices promptly lowered to room-level murmurs and seats shifted around.

"Good morning, Professor Kingsley!" Chloe greeted her with a prim smile.

Ina mustered a smile, nodding politely at Chloe. "Good morning, Miss St. James," she replied evenly, continuing to walk by. Chloe did a mini fist-pump. That counted as a win. Suck it, Diaz.

Speaking of Diaz, Ina's eyes floated around the classroom in search of her. It'd become a thing at this point to see her, Aliyah's smile usually being successful in putting one on Ina's face. A needed mood boost before every headache-inducing lecture.

She spotted her near the front of the class, a couple notebooks strewn across her space with a tall water bottle (she drank ungodly amounts of water in Ina's opinion). Aliyah caught her eye at the same time and smiled, shooting her a friendly wink.

Friendly enough as it was though, Ina still felt a heat creep up the back of her neck. She nodded resolutely at Aliyah as she passed. "Miss Diaz," she greeted.

"Professor," Aliyah replied.

"How was your weekend?"

Aliyah's smile seemed to widen a little bit at Ina's sincere tone. "Pretty good. I did a music gig in NYC on Saturday," she replied.

Ina grinned. Aliyah never ceased to impress her. "So not bad at all, all things considered?" She quipped.

"Well…" Aliyah drawled, "It could've been a little better." She gave Ina a not so subtle once-over. Ina felt a shiver run up her spine, and her grin only widened.

"Well, let me know if there's any way I can help you remedy that," she said.

"Sure thing, Professor," Aliyah replied before Ina walked to the front to begin her lecture.

Class proceeded as usual that day. Ina getting a little too passionate at her favorite parts of the presentation, Aliyah having to mouth "calm down" to her, and Chloe offering her often completely random input (how did the origin of bees in Gucci wear relate to the Red Deer Cave People?).

"If any of you are interested in continuing on this specific branch, you can check Belvoire's online database for my research on it. I may be a bit biased in saying this, but I think it's worth checking out," Ina said. The entire class chuckled as they began to pack their things.

As she began to repack her briefcase, Ina's eyes flicked up to Aliyah to see what she was up to. Usually she'd make her way to Ina's desk once everybody had filed out, and they'd talk a little more about the class. Aliyah was aware that Ina usually couldn't get all her passion out in one lecture, and the poor baby needed someone to listen to her for another minute or two.

But it seemed like someone was trying to put a stop to that daily habit. Ina arched a brow at a girl who had Aliyah practically pinned between one of the lecture tables and her body.

Cassandra Davids, Ina recognized her as. Aside from Aliyah, she was probably the brightest student in the class. She was tall, with fiery red hair and a killer smile to boot.

If only just a little bit, seeing her with Aliyah made Ina feel… icky.

"Hey Ali, you have any plans today?" Cassandra asked, leaning on the table so that Aliyah could catch a whiff of her vanilla perfume.

For all her intelligence in the arts and sciences, Aliyah picked up signals as well as broken radar. "A little studying, but not really. Why, did you need help with something?" She asked. Weird. Cassandra was almost- emphasis on almost- as smart as her.

Cassandra chuckled breathily. It made Aliyah wonder if she had a cold. "You're really cute, you know that?" She said.

Ina flinched as those words reached her ears. Cassandra wasn't you know, wrong, but that was her line to say. And more than anything, she wanted to march over there and lay her claim. To wrap an arm around Aliyah's waist and say, "mine," but…

They weren't together. Was that really her place?

Aliyah smiled charmingly, but didn't blush like she would've if Ina had said it. For a self-proclaimed "smarty-pants", it sure wasn't clicking. "That's the first time someone at this school has called me something positive," she said with a laugh. Cassandra laughed right along with her.

"You know I feel like I should really get to know you. I know not everybody here is open to being friends with you since Poppy hates you," she said, she walked her fingers across the table, until she was grasping Aliyah's forearm gently.

Ina couldn't take it anymore. She slammed her briefcase shut, loud enough that it caught Aliyah's attention (Cassandra was far too focused to notice). Wordlessly, she stormed towards the door, not even sparing Aliyah a glance.

"Professor…?" Aliyah tried, but Ina was out the door.

There was one more heartbreaker to add to Ina's collection. One more mistake, one more thing that she just couldn't get right.

And Jesus Christ, she'd been hoping that the one thing she could get right in her sorry, messy love life would be Aliyah Diaz. But yet again, circumstance felt as if it was almost signaling Ina to give up love.

Love. That's what she felt for Aliyah, right? Ina paused in the hallway for a moment, biting her lip.

She supposed it didn't matter now. Maybe Aliyah would stop by the college reunion in ten or so years, settled and smiling. And find Ina older, and still alone.

Ina squeezed the handle of her briefcase. Maybe it's always been her. Maybe Aliyah was better off with that redhead. Maybe her ex had been right when she said Ina was too selfish.

Maybe, in the end, she was the only one to blame for her loneliness.

---

"What was the answer to this one again?" Aliyah asked. She held out the test to Ina. Ina spared it the shortest of glances, before turning back to her computer.

"C," she replied.

Aliyah made a face, tapping the leg of her glasses against her lip. "You sure?"

"I'm rather sure I'd know the answers to my own test," Ina retorted.

The bite in Ina's voice was enough to make Aliyah flinch away a little bit, a frown etched into her features. Ina saw it out of the corner of her eye, and had half a mind to apologize… but the other half squashed the notion.

Aliyah turned back to her work, and sat there for a long moment.

Ina usually sat next to her while she graded, and she was writing her next dissertation. They'd laugh and joke and talk about their days, and Aliyah might snag a free drink if she was lucky.

But there was none of that today. Just silence, aside from the clicking of Ina's computer and the scratch of Aliyah's pen. Ina stayed behind her desk as if it were a defense.

Aliyah's brow furrowed as she racked her brain for what she could've done. She hadn't done anything though, right? And Ina wouldn't intentionally take out her stress on her. Hm…

Maybe she was hungry… come to think of it, Aliyah hadn't even seen her drink her usual afternoon coffee.

"Hey, you want me to run to the coffee shop?" Aliyah asked. Ina looked at her. Aliyah perked a smile, "The place you like on Twelfth just reopened-"

"We need to get this work done fast," Ina interjected, "And there's more stuff for you to grade once you're finished with that stack." And with that, she turned back to her computer.

"O-oh," was all Aliyah could utter. She looked down into her lap, brows furrowed and shoulders slumped. Then she looked up at Ina again. "Did I do something?" She asked. Ina's typing abruptly stopped. "'Cause if I did, I-I really don't know what it was, but-"

"You…" Ina sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Don't apologize. Just finish that stack up."

"So I did do something."

"No! Jesus Ali, you didn't," Ina insisted sharply.

"Then why're you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Don't play dumb! Because you're not. And you know I'm not either." Aliyah stood up. "What did I do? Just tell me, please," she pleaded.

For a moment, Ina froze. Aliyah's eyes were so wide, and dare Ina say so sad. It was unnatural and unfitting of her. "You didn't do anything Ali, now please-"

"Why do you always do this? Every time the road gets a little rough, you try and back out," Aliyah snapped, "What are you afraid of? Hurting my feelings?" Before Ina could reply, Aliyah spoke for her, "'Cause you already have! But it wouldn't have been half as bad if you'd just talk to me."

Ina felt a pang in her chest. Maybe Aliyah was a little more emotional than she gave her credit for being. "I'm sorry for being so harsh," Ina said softly, "But… you can't fix this."

Except she could. But Ina couldn't ask that of her.

Aliyah threw her hands up, balling her fists on her hips as she paced around the room. "Jesus, you have the emotional range of a stone golem, don't you?" She jibed.

Oh god, not this. Ina felt her brow twitch as irritation coursed through her. She shook her head, ripping her glasses off and tossing them to the desk. "Is this your defense mechanism?" She asked, standing up and gesturing at Aliyah, "This whole sarcastic ass schtick that you pull on?"

"Well I would ask if this whole immature and cowardly thing you do is an act, but I'm pretty sure that's genuine," Aliyah retorted.

Ina leveled her with a dangerous gaze. "You're going there?"

Aliyah scoffed. "Where, down to your level? Yeah, yeah I am."

Ina glared through a narrow gaze. "I'd have the decency to be offended if I didn't know that there's nothing but a fake bite behind every damn word that leaves your mouth."

For a moment, Aliyah's resolve wavered. Ina read her just as well as any book in her pretentious bookcase. She didn't know when she'd started being able to.

The two stared each other down, just enough intensity to enflame themselves but not enough to burn each other.

"What did you say to her," Ina said flatly.

"What?"

"Miss Davids. What did you say to her?"

Aliyah made a face. "What are you even talking about? Don't tell me you tripped on those oversized heels and hit your head."

Okay, ow. Ina was going to be offended over that one later.

"She asked you out, didn't she?" Ina asked sharply. Don't tell me you went and broke her heart too, she thought sarcastically.

Aliyah sputtered (dumbly). "Wha- why would you think that she- what?"

Ina's brow furrowed. "Aliyah, we established earlier that neither of us are idiots. Don't-"

"But I don't even know what you're talking about!" Aliyah retorted with a glare, "Is that was this is about? You think Cassandra asked me out?"

"I-" what was Ina supposed to say, yes? Because, well, yes. "Oh, don't tell me you're that dense when it comes to this sort of thing," she said, rubbing her temples.

"Cassandra didn't ask me out," Aliyah said firmly, "She just asked me… over to the sorority house." Huh… that did kinda sound like a date.

"And?" Ina asked sharply.

"And I said no, I had to go help you grade papers and see if you were okay," Aliyah shook her head, "So that's what this was about. You were jealous of some pretty sorority girl-"

"So you think she's pretty," Ina muttered pettily.

"Christ Ina, what the hell is wrong with you?!" Aliyah raised her voice just a hair. Every exclamation had been firm, but not loud. But this was. She took a step closer to Ina, until there was only a hair's width separating them. "What do you think of me, huh? Really though, what?”

Ina let out a forceful breath. "I think that you're beautiful. I think that you're brilliant. And I think that you're the most frustrating person to ever enter my life," Ina said. Her voice was quiet but firm. Ever so slightly, she narrowed the gap between them even more. But still, they didn't touch.

"Frustrating? You think I'm the frustrating one here?" Aliyah questioned, "I come in here and work my ass off every day hoping that maybe it'll help you just a little bit." Ina tensed a little bit, fearful because she couldn't see where this was headed now. "I haven't even told you about all the BS I've had to deal with just to keep people from finding out about what you and Bea were up to last year, 'cause I didn't want you to feel bad," both felt a bit of a sting at that sentence.

"Why would you do that for me, Ali?" Ina asked in a breath.

"Because it'd hurt me to see you get hurt!"

"Why?"

"Because I love you!"

Both of them flinched, shock gathering in their eyes. Ina's jaw was ajar, her eyes wide and pooling with uncertainty. Aliyah regained herself first.

The anger in both of them had been snuffed. Aliyah looked at the floor for one bashful moment, and then looked at Ina. "How could I possibly look at anyone else? When your stubborn, maddening ass has me wrapped around your finger?" She asked softly.

"Aliyah…"

"Don't 'Aliyah' me," Aliyah said, "Just… tell me whether or not I'm an idiot for falling in love with you, Ina." Ina flinched again at the word. And Aliyah took that as her answer. She pursed her lips, nodding. "Okay- mmph!"

A hand shot out and grabbed the hem of her shirt, and strong arms wrapped around her as a pair of soft lips desperately claimed hers.

Aliyah stared wide-eyed for a moment, before wrapping her arms around Ina's shoulders and melting into her. "Ina…" she whimpered out as they kissed each other desperately. One arm wrapped even tighter around her waist, while the other tangled in her hair.

Aliyah groaned quietly, cupping Ina's face with the softest of touches while her lips moved against hers.

Only when they ran out of breath did they pull away, panting. Ina stroked Aliyah's cheek with her fingertips, locking her in an intense gaze. Aliyah stared right back, eyes wide and hopeful.

Ina leaned her forehead against hers, their noses brushing. "I never thought that…" she sighed.

"What? That I could love you?" Aliyah laughed softly, "Look, whatever you want from me is fine, but… I just wanted you to know that." She reached up to cup Ina's cheek again and smiled slightly. "And if you don't say it back I un-"

"No," Ina said, shaking her head, "It's just… please understand Ali, I'm not perfect."

"Nowhere near," Aliyah agreed, patting Ina's cheek.

Ina chuckled slightly, entwining her fingers with Aliyah's. "I'm jealous, I'm indecisive, I'm possessive of what isn't even rightfully mine," her eyes flicked over Aliyah's entirety, "And I was afraid. Afraid of what it'd mean if I told you I love you- no matter how much I do- just to break your heart down the line or have you break mine."

"I'd never break your heart," Aliyah said firmly.

"And I'd never want to break yours, but it seems I'm no good when it comes to love," she said, perking a small smile, "My track record is terrible. So I need to ask you…" she took Aliyah's hand, placing a gentle kiss on each of her knuckles, "Do you think I'm worth the risk of heartbreak?"

And Aliyah's answer was immediate.

"I think you'd be worth the risk of my life."

Ina's breath caught, and she inhaled sharply. Then gave a small nod.

"Then I love you too, Aliyah Diaz. And I'm absolutely yours."

~end~

#ina kingsley #professor kingsley #ina x mc #queen b #aliyah diaz

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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years

Text

It's Valentine's day 💌🌹🌹🌹🌹💖💌

He never once thought he would be actually enjoying and, dare he say, even waiting for this special date.

The holiday was utterly stupid in his eyes. Bunch of couples around the streets, anywhere actually, showing their supposed 'love' towards each other. He felt sick and the urge of vomit or to overhaul those things.

Love was dead. No one was pure or even honest about thosr things. Is a complete waste of time, pacience and money most of all.

... that was what he always thought until he met a certain angel who just barged in his life.

You were the only one who actually made him feel something. Something good, swert but not nauseous, suffocating but not deadly... ever day he found himself craving more and more for those things you and only your angelic and pure person can do.

He wanted to give you the world, the skies, hell. Everthing. You deserved the galaxy.

Ever since you two got more intimate you made him promise to go easy on his gifts and attempts to spoil you... although yoy couldn't escape this one.

Valentine's was made for partners to waste theur money and he was going to expend thousands billions of yens if he wanted to.

It was a day where he could show his love for you in gifts! What's better than that? He always sucked at words and affections but gifts he knew it very well.

He woke up on that morning, already in hopes to get out of the room without waking you up before his eyes widen at seing your side empty.

"What the fuck?" He mumbled as he sitted up while grabbing his mask.

Where did you went? Most importantly. HOW did you get off from the bed without wakening him?

His questions were soon answered when he heard your giggles and turned around to see you laying with one side of yours on the door frame, with a adorable and beautiful smile at him.

"Good morning buttercup, slept well?" He sended daggers through his glare and ignoring his pink as hell cheeks at that disgusting pet name.

"What the hell you're doing awake brat?" He grunted before getting up to grab one of his shirts.

You walked towards him before pushing his shoulder a bit to the side while you lowered his mask down to plant a kiss, giggling at noticing hos gis breath had hitched on his throat.

"Happy Valentine's day!" You chirped with a smile "Ah don't worry I brushed my teeth handsome, no morning breath."

He growled while pitching the bridge of his nose in false irritation.

"Stop with those pet names, is embarrassing and disgusting to gear those atrocities leaving your mouth."

"Hey, I'm allowed to do this all day cutie." He flipped your forehead with a 'enough' while you giggled.

"When you're ready can you come to the kitchen for a bit? I thought on maybe bringing you on here but... It would be messy." You scraatched the back of your neck while he deadpanned at you, shirt still on his hands.

"..congrats." he mumbled while finally putting his shirt on "You have a brain."

He smirked underneath his mask at your pout and the way you mockingly poked your tongue out before lefting the room.

He cursed hinself for thinking already on innaproprietate things the moment he saw that pink muscle of yours between those lips he loved so much.

Later Chisaki Kai. Later. For fucks sake what he had become?

He slowly made his way through the halls of the house, smirking at his cellphone at seing his demand would be delivered at least on the afternoon.

One of the many gifts he would be giving to his angel.

Although the smirk had quickly fallen while he saw the table of the kitchen mainly filled with things that he liked.

No. No you just did not-

"So?" You singed besided him "Whacha you think?"

"Angel I just despised you and love at the same time what the hell did you do to me?" You errupted in laughter while he only glared at you with a 'I'm serious'.

Angel: one, devil: zero. Not for long though.

Right after you both had breakfast he went to his office and demanded that you followed him as well. On the middle of thehallway he stopped walking besides you only to be behind your back and cover your eyes with his big and gloved hands.

He pushed the door with his foot carefully, whispering huskily on your ear to keep your eyes closed as the wamrth of his hands dissapeared on the dark.

You heard some shuffling before you felt those hands again undressing you slowly.

"Hm already for dessert devil?" You giggled at the scoff and the quick pinch he gave it to you.

"Shut your filth mouth." He grumbled as he placed another type of fabric, you shivered at the cold feeling of the new material enveloping your skin.

"Take a few steps and..." he standed behind you to admire the clothing for a bit on your body as he crossed his arms "Open."

You gasped at seing the familiar clothing. You and Chisaki were hanging around one day and you just had stopped to look at one black and shiny elegant dress on the showcase, and as a little accessory a purse coming along.

You had joked about how expensive and waste of money it would be for anyone but you also made the mistake on saying the sentence 'is pretty beautiful though. Wish I had the money for those things."

The moment you also joked about going into meeting aling with Kai while wearing those didn't really helped. And you were genuinely shocked when he only nodded before returning to his walk.

You thought that he had stopped that tendency of looking at you only einfow shopping and straight forward just going to buy it... ok, you were wrong. He was still doing that.

"Kai!" You gasped breathless as he only had that smug look.

"Also here." He picked a two boxes on his desk, one smaller than the other "The ones you had were getting old."

"A new laptop and cellphone?! Kai you're insane?!" You asked in disbelief almost dropping the electronics on the ground.

"No. I'm close to being, if Im not already, a sociopath. But I am completely san-"

"You know what I meant! Kai oh my god please tell me these three are the only ones, you surely wasted a lot of money on tjose already!" You said in worry as you looked at the prices of the devices.

The worst of all is that... your "old" laptop and cellphone weren't exactly old and were working pretty well... and your botfriend just bought you the newest one on the marketing.

"I won't lie to you." He said simply, blocking the possible facepalm you were going to do with his own hand. "You will hurt yourself like that."

Jesus Christ you felt like you were going to combust.

Chisaki REALLY WENT OVERBOARD on this. He had payed for everthing one week before the valentines and the more you thought was over the more it came the expensive and luxurious things.

You blushed crinson red when you saw a pair of lingerie, not expecting Kai to bought THAT in specific. You almost dropped dead when he showed you some swiss chocolate; although you giggled at his cuteness when he taste it the sweet things and his eyes sparkled a bit at the taste. Present after present and you were getting slightly anxious.

"K-kai?" You said smilling but worry still evident on his box while he signed on some paper before getting a box out of Chrono's hands with a nod while looking at you.

"Here dearest." He showed you the box and you had to gulp down the desperate screan you wanted to let out "You said once how those dishes were adorable or something related, so here is the whole dinnerware set."

You sighed with a smile before picking the box and placing it down, your boyfriend arching one of his eyebrows at your action before you looked up at him.

"There's more?" You asked while crossing your arms.

"A few yes but-"

"That's enough Kai." You interrupted, quickly smilling at seing his face "My devil I love and appreciate with all my heart all those things, how you listen to me and pay attention to every detail. But-" you laughed before pointing at the boxes "T-This is way too much! Kai you can't just buy anything that I mention it and almost drow me on gifts."

He sighed in annoyance before pinching the space between his eyebrows.

"Angel, this is all for you. Money is not something you need to worry about anyway, besides, you already did the breakfast without my knowledge... I just want you to have everything you deserve." He brough his hand down while he looked at you with something else in those golden eyes. "Is it that wrong?"

"Is not wrong. But it is when you go over board. Kai, buying me expensives and lots of things wont make me love you any more or less." You took a few steps only to be inches away from gis toned chest as you stared uo at him "Can we just be... casual? There's going to happen a meteor rain and I would love to watch it with the love of my life..." you lifted your hand up and hesitated to touch his face before you smiled warmingly at seing his gloved hand holded yours. "Honestly? Is all I ask. You with me is the best thing I can have."

He seemed in deep thought at a moment before he sighed in annoyance, messing with your hair as he mumbled his agreement... secretly loving the way your eyes widened and shined in adoration at him.

You were indeed a quirkless unique angel. And only his.

Every one in your place would have savored it, taken advantage of the situation while greedily accepting what a yakusa member could offer...

Yet here he was, simple clothes along with yours... sitted on the balcony with mugs of tea on hands, you staring at the dark but shint sky as his fazed remained fixed on your features.

Pure. You were pure from this sick society. Having you in his kife was like a damn blessing and a readon for him to live... you showed hin feelings that he thought it didn't exist it, nothing more than stupid fairytales, and also gave him another reason to keep living... to keep working just as hard as ge could.

To bring the yakusa back fron the shadows and keep his angel safe and sound. Those were his motivations... Pops and you were the only ones kind enough to accept him.

And he was going to repay you both for that. Curing this sick world was one of the many things he was going to do...

But for now... he just would admire the work of art he had on his side.

Your giggles made him arch a eyebrow as he took a sip from his hot drink.

"If you keep staring at me you will lose the show you know, is going to happen soon!" You turned around, your flying along with the breeze of the night making you shiver for a bit.

"I told you to get a coat on idiot." He sayed nonchalantly as he took of his iconic green jacket and placed it over your shoulders.

"Now you will-"

"It's fine." He interrupted as he almost touched your foreheads together "I don't get cold."

"Liar." You pouted mockingly before giggling a it when he pinched your cheek.

You thanked the heavens that you got a shower before nightine or else you wouldn't be able to feel those affectionate subtle touches of your boyfriend...

He was always so straight forward with his despise of touch, but thise were the moments where you recorded scenes like earlier today... where you had to escape like a damn ninja from a mobster iron grip on bed as he slept peacefully.

You gasped when you saw the first oe s falling, getting a bit away from Kai to point out in the skies like a toddler on a candy or toy store.

"Kai Kai! Look! Is starting!" You jumped in exciment on your seat ehile Chisaki only looked up for a few seconds, widening his eyes a bit before returning it back to normal...

He looked down at your smile and the way your eyes shined at seing the natural show... he swore that on that moment he fell even more for you.

He smiled sincerely, not taking his eyes off from you. You noticed that and turned with a mocking smile.

"Hey you're not paying attention! Is going to end soon!" You gasped in surprise when he cupped your face on his hand as he lowered fown his mask, smile still on his lips.

Screw the stars, this was a sign of heaven. Chisaki's smile could cure even the worst of diseases.

"What happened with my 'I don't give a fuck' face boyfriend?" You asked while melting on his touch and love gaze.

"You should be the one answering this... you made me fall for you angel. And I surprisingly have no regrets." He brushed his lips against yours before closing the fisgusting distance along with your desperation to feel his scent and lips connected with yours.

Just when things were getting... hotter a knock interrupted you both, causing you two to groan.

"Sorry to bother ya love birds but the package of thousands roses came Overhaul."

You blinked before glaring playfully at him, while him just sended Mimic back and to jot come back until tommorow.

You both had things to get done.

#overhaul x reader #overhaul scenario #fanfic overhaul #overhaul #chisaki kai imagine scenario #chisaki kai x reader #kai chisaki #chisaki kai #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #bnha characters #bnha villains #bnha #bnha imagines #my writing #zuffer writings

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thesoundofnat · 4 years

Text

Heaven, apparently

Poe/Finn

Summary: Poe keeps complimenting Finn, panicking, and running away. It becomes a problem.

A/N: The first scenario was based on this. I hope you like it! No association with and therefore no spoilers for The Rise of Skywalker.

Words: 2 079

Poe could remember running, a crash, and then: blinding pain before he presumably passed out. Now he blinked and blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, body heavy with involuntary sleep of some sort, but his head didn’t make him want to die, so he reckoned that was something.

“Am I in heaven or hell?” he asked, voice low, the question making sense to him, but evidently not to Finn, whom Poe was starting to see take shape before him.

Finn blinked, almost mimicking him. “Uh, you’re in my quarters?”

Poe tried to sit, but Finn’s hands were right there, light on his shoulders as he pushed him back down. Poe didn’t protest, simply groaned. Yeah, it could’ve been worse, but he could feel so so much better too.

“So heaven?” he mumbled, realizing the effort it took to speak, but not being able to shut up anyway. “Thank god.”

“What-” Finn fell silent, and had Poe not just woken up from a mild concussion, as he was told afterward, he might’ve realized what he’d said.

Instead, he remembered it much much later when Jess, who had been present along with apparently a handful of other people from the Resistance, recounted the moment.

“Oh no,” he cried, wishing she would show him mercy for once and let him be oblivious. “Did I really?”

She shrugged, her lips twitching with a grin she tried to hold back. “You did. It was cute.”

“That’s fucking terrible.”

“Oh, come on, it just shows you trust him.”

Poe shook his head, even though they’d told him to not make any quick movements. Jess’ fault, he would tell them. “I can never face him again.”

“Poe,” she sighed, exasperated. “This doesn’t mean you have to come clean about liking him, even though I think you should. You were delirious. He didn’t seem to understand the compliment anyway.”

“Oh, he did,” Poe said sadly. “He’s smarter than you think, Jess. He probably just didn’t know what to say.”

“So you find his space comforting. What’s wrong about that?”

What indeed.

Poe wasn’t calmed by her words, despite knowing how logical they were. Apparently he’d always been obvious about his crush, but never to Finn. Never to him.

Coward. Always a coward, terrified of his own emotions and how they could - and had - ruined things for him beyond repair. But still he felt. Still he felt.

He avoided him. Could anyone blame him? He wasn’t being obvious about it. He didn’t turn on his heels if he walked into a room where Finn was, or dive into a conversation with someone else if Finn started approaching him. He just didn’t seek him out. Didn’t initiate the late night conversations he was so fond of. Treated him like any other.

But Finn wasn’t like any other. Not even close.

“Can I talk to you?” Finn asked, having come out of nowhere. So sudden Poe was genuinely startled, his first instinct to run, run, run. Since when had he been afraid of Finn?

“Sure,” he said, ignoring his rioting heart. “What’s up?”

“Can we talk in private?” Finn looked around, the people around them busy, but close enough to eavesdrop had they wanted to. Poe could appreciate his caution.

“My room or-” Or yours. Heaven, apparently.

“Yours works.”

They walked in silence. It was eerie. They could have comfortable silences, but their mouths never seemed to be able to keep quiet for too long when they were together. Poe loved that about their relationship. They had an understanding, but their never-ending conversations made it stronger. A constant development. Always communicating. No wonder Finn was about to ask him why he’d suddenly gone quiet.

But when they reached Poe’s quarters, he asked him how his head was.

“What?”

“Your head.” Finn tilted his own, scowling. “Is it hurting? Giving you trouble? I never got around to asking.”

“Oh.” Poe rubbed at the bump. “Not really. It keeps me from tagging along on missions, which is awful, but other than that, it’s healing.”

“Good.”

Poe blinked. “You wanted to talk in private to ask… that?”

Finn shrugged, sheepish. “In case you wanted to talk, but not worry anyone else.”

“Ah.” Poe had to grin. “You’re cute. I mean-” Shit, shit, shit. “The thought was cute. Sweet, is what I’m trying to say. Considerate.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “Poe?”

“I gotta go.”

“We’re in your room.”

“You can stay if you want.”

“Where are you going?”

Poe didn’t reply. Only ran.

That went well!

From that day on, Poe’s mouth refused to obey him whenever he was around Finn. He could have blamed the concussion the first time, and partly the second time, but he was running out of excuses now. It was getting ridiculous.

His crew were having the time of their lives watching him fumble, evidently.

“You act like a fool,” Snap said, his grin making Poe flush almost as much as his words.

“I can’t help it,” he whined. “There’s just… something about him. I have to compliment him.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Rose said, sweet Rose, who had kissed Finn once and instantly apologized to Poe of all people. “I just don’t think running away each time helps. I bet he’s confused.”

“I mean, friends can compliment friends, right?”

“Sure, but you never compliment me,” Jess said, mock offended.

“Sure I do.”

“Not in the way you compliment Finn.”

Poe let out a laugh. “That’s a bit different, isn’t it?”

“Because you’re in love with him?”

Love. Dear god. “I’m not! I- it’s not like that.”

She was shaking her head. “Oh, Poe. You can’t call this a crush anymore.”

He crossed his arms. “I wasn’t aware you were in my head.”

“I know you. I’ve practically been on top of you for years now. You have signs.”

“I don’t wanna talk about this,” he said, turning away from them, if only to hide his constantly burning cheeks. Truly he would be the first man in the universe to die of embarrassment.

“Ouff.” In his haste to flee he’d walked right into Finn himself; literally stumbling back from having hit his chest. “Finn! Buddy. Didn’t see you there.”

“Clearly.” Finn’s tone was light, his smile teasing. “Better watch where you’re going, old man.”

“Old?” Poe was shaking his head, aware of the wide grin he couldn’t help. “Now you’re just being mean to be mean,” he said, poking at Finn’s ribs, making him back away with a laugh.

“Sorry,” he replied, hands in front of him. “It was a joke.”

“You used to be able to handle those once, Poe,” Snap said somewhere behind him, and Poe remembered where he was, who he was, and took a step away from Finn.

“Oh, come on now,” Jess was saying. “He can definitely handle those. He just likes pretending to be upset.”

“He is standing right here,” Poe said, rolling his eyes.

“Sorry. It seemed as if you were a little occupied staring at Finn to defend yourself.”

“Can you blame me?” Jesus fucking Christ, Dameron. “I mean-” He saw his friends nearly facepalm.

“Blame you?” Finn was frowning when Poe chanced a look at him. “What-”

“Gotta go.”

“Poe, come on.” Finn’s voice sounded so small now. Almost pleading.

But Poe had never handled these things well, so he left anyway. Left like a coward.

Finn found him. Not that he was hiding, necessarily, but thus far Finn hadn’t purposefully sought him out to talk about what the hell was happening with him, which Poe assumed he wanted to bring up when he walked up to where he was sitting. Poe didn’t even have anything in front of him to pretend to be busy. He was just sitting, staring straight ahead until he had to look at Finn, finally, who had taken a seat beside him.

“Hi,” he said, because Finn wasn’t saying anything and it was somehow worse.

“Hi.” Poe was the cause of that wrinkle between his eyebrows. He didn’t like it. “You didn’t have to run away.”

“I didn’t.”

“Poe.”

Poe deflated. “Okay, I did.”

“They were just messing with you. I know you can handle a joke.”

Ah. So maybe Finn hadn’t caught the compliment after all. Or maybe he thought it didn’t matter. Poe wasn’t sure what was worse.

“Right.” Poe squirmed in his seat, forcing himself to not look away. “They’ve just been… a lot. Recently.”

“You’ve been quite jumpy recently.”

“Right. Well. They won’t let me be and it doesn’t help.”

“Should I talk to them?”

Poe waved a hand at him. “Nah. I’ll deal with it.”

“Okay.” Finn crossed his arms. “You wanna talk about why you’re so skittish then?”

Damn. “Not really?”

Finn snorted. “Fair enough. I won’t push. Not yet, at least.”

Poe ran a hand through his curls. “When will you push then?”

“When it starts becoming a problem.”

“So never?”

“We’ll see about that, Dameron.”

It was becoming a problem. Had probably been one since this whole mess started.

Finn was too damn beautiful for Poe to not compliment him. Over and over. Saying shit like “your eyes are pretty” and “I never mind when it’s you” when Finn was just trying to hold a regular conversation with him. The fifth time Poe ran away that week was when he knew Finn was done with his bullshit, mostly because he followed him down the hallway rather than just letting him go.

“What’s your problem?”

Exasperation, maybe hurt. Not mere irritation or confusion, but actual real concern in his voice now. Poe’s fault.

He rubbed at his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m having a hard time accepting your apology if I don’t know what’s wrong.” The anger was out of his voice as quickly as it had arrived. “Talk to me, Poe.”

“I want to,” Poe said, almost a whisper. “Trust me, I do, but-”

“But?”

“I feel like I could mess things up so easily if I do.”

“How bad can it be?”

“Bad enough to ruin us.”

“Us?”

Poe leaned against the wall, giving up, giving in. “I’m sure you’ve noticed my strange behavior has only been related to you, right?”

“I’ve had an inkling.”

Poe had to smile. “Of course you did. You’re smart.” He fought against the urge to turn on his heels and flee after the compliment. That was a regular fucking compliment, Dameron. It could be given to anyone, calm down. “Well. Uh. It’s… complicated.” He shook his head. “It’s not. I don’t know why I said that. It’s really easy, actually.”

“So tell me.”

“That part’s harder.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s like ripping my heart out and handing it to you.” Poe shut his eyes. Couldn’t do much else. “And even though I trust you, trusting your heart to someone is a lot. It’s unsafe.”

Finn didn’t say anything, but Poe felt his hands on his cheeks, but it was too much, too much, so Poe couldn’t look.

“Poe.”

He opened his eyes to see Finn in front of him, looking like a goddamn angel. “Stop.”

“What?”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Finn didn’t let go of his cheeks. “Like what?”

“Like you reciprocate.”

“You like me.” Not a question.

Poe inhaled. “Too much for my own good.”

“Why’s that?”

“I look at you and I act a fool.”

“That’s not a bad thing.” A pause. “And I do reciprocate.”

Poe narrowed his eyes. “You do?”

“Of course.” Finn licked his lips. “That’s why I never confronted you about the compliments. They felt too good to be true and I didn’t want to hear you say they didn’t mean anything.”

“They meant everything.”

When they kissed, it was with desperation; both of them clutching at each other for dear life, and Poe kept thinking that this was real, real, it was fucking real, he could feel Finn’s back and lips and breath. Finn’s hands in his hair.

“You’re too good for me,” Poe said when they broke apart, and Finn rolled his eyes, breathless.

“We need to work on your confidence, Poe. Have you seen yourself?”

Poe briefly wondered what he’d feel if Finn ran away after the dropped compliment, but he relished in the fact that he could just lean in with a laugh and kiss him again and again and again. He needed to make up for his running away, but he realized he had a whole life to make it up to him now.

#finnpoe #stormpilot #star wars fic #finnpoe fic #stormpilot fic #star wars #mine #heaven apparently #nat writes

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sadprose-auroras · 5 years

Note

Hey, dolly! I’m not even going to go on anon because everyone knows I’m a fucking whore for Present Day!Roger. Do you think you could do something with him? Preferably like a Sugar Daddy sort of thing?

I love that, honey! Fucking own it. We’re all whores around here hehe xx

18+ below the cut.

Includes: Smut, sugar daddy situation, age gap (reader’s age not specified, but to all you young people out there such as myself – please be careful. This is fiction only)

The first time you met was an accident. Sure, you knew who he was when you were (weirdly) left alone with him in the hotel pool area, but you didn’t mean to knock into him as you walked past.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, sir!” You said, flashing him a smile, trying to ignore the rapid beating of your heart, the heat in your cheeks, and the feeling of his hand steadying your arm.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry, are you okay?” he asked, seeming genuinely concerned, and it took everything in you not to melt into a puddle right there and then. Despite his age, he was objectively very attractive; great style, nice smile, and… those eyes.

Fuck. You hadn’t said anything for about five seconds.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you said with one last smile, walking back to your sun lounge and pulling your book out. You tried to focus on the words on the page and the feeling of the sun on your bare skin, but all you could think about was Roger-fucking-Taylor sitting a dozen or so seats away from you. Groaning to yourself after having read the same line three times, you pulled your phone out. You scrolled through a few social media apps aimlessly, before pulling up Seeking Arrangements. You were staying at a hotel of a foreign city because of the app, sure, but more often than not, the arrangements were short-lived and mostly just to alleviate money-related stress for yourself.

You almost dropped your phone when the first man popped up. Your eyes widened, your heart started beating even more, and you just stared at your phone, not even knowing what to do. It was him.

Somewhere along the line, you realised you needed to be rational and jump at this opportunity, and you immediately sent him your quick, generic, slightly flirty message. Unable to believe this was even happening, you looked over at him as subtly as you possibly could, waiting for him to check his phone. Finally after a few moments, he did; and, despite his facial hair and distance, you could see a hint of surprise in his features as he tapped away at his screen. Your phone pinged, and you glanced down at it;

‘If you really felt that way, wouldn’t you have come over here by now?’

Everything seemed to happen so quickly; you eventually did saunter over to Roger, having a chat for quite some time, before basically making a deal. Next thing you knew, he was inviting you up to his hotel room. It was a suite of course, much bigger than yours.

“Isn’t it nice?”

Huh, so he was a little cocky then. But still sweet. Jesus, how was he so perfect?

“It’s alright,” you shrugged teasingly as you looked around, marvelling at everything. It all looked so expensive.

“The look in your eyes says otherwise,” the man chuckled, as he poured the two of you a glass of wine. “And this is just the tip of the iceberg. Cheers,” you clinked glasses with his, smiling at each other. Something about him was so calming, despite his still cheeky demeanour. And he was very charming, of course. You found yourself fascinated when he spoke, and having actual butterflies in your stomach, and an actual ache between your legs; he was certainly different to any other sugar daddy you’d had before.

“Come here,” you beckoned him with a manicured nail, and he raised an eyebrow, placing his glass down and stepping towards you.

‘We don’t have to do anything right now. Or ever, for that matter.” He said firmly, and you shook your head, placing your glass down as well and resting your hands on his waist.

“I want to.”

“I want you too… ever since I saw you in that bikini, reading one of my favourite books,” he chuckled, and, with your final permission, leant in to kiss you slowly, passionately, and with such knowledge and intention in every movement, that you found yourself moaning against his lips almost instantly.

It heated up fairly quickly, and, before you could process what was happening, you were making out and he was lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist, carrying you to the bedroom and gently placing you on the bed.

“How-how did you pick me up so easily?” You laughed, once your lips had finally parted, your hands stroking his upper arms, eyes drifting up and down his body.

“I can do many things easily, doll,” he laughed with you, and you rolled your eyes, pulling him in for another desperate kiss.

“I can’t wait much longer, Roger. Fuck me, please?”

“You’re becoming more and more straightforward with me already,” he said, his tone basically cooing, and you giggled as you began to undress while he did as well, both of you ogling each other shamelessly.

“You’re so sexy, doll,” he said gruffly, spending some time kissing your neck and breasts, before bringing his thumb to your clit and rubbing tight, fast circles, making you gasp and arch your back.

“L-Likewise,” you stammered between breathless moans. “Christ, Roger! That feels amazing.”

“Good,” he said, and your stomach fluttered at both his words and tone; it seemed as if he actually cared about your pleasure, which was far too rare.

“Do you want me inside you now?” he asked, his circles slowing down slightly, and you flashed him an involuntarily excited grin, nodding.

“Please.”

“So polite,” he murmured, kissing your neck again, at the same time retrieving a condom and going to slide it on.

“May I?” you asked, taking it from him when he nodded and sliding it on his cock, marvelling at the sight of him all hard and ready for you. You stroked him a few times, pride bursting in your chest when he moaned in pleasure, then positioned him at your entrance.

“Go hard and fast. I can take it.” You encouraged, before both of you holding each other tightly to steady yourselves as he entered you. It wasn’t long before you both seemingly lost all inhibitions and control, as if some pent-up frustration burst and you were going at it so hard the headboard was shaking.

“You feel so good around me, oh my god!” Roger cried out, his voice croaking. You found yourself unable to reply, far too gone at this point as you clawed at his back and moaned louder with every precise thrust.

“I’m close, baby,” his breathing was becoming more laboured, as was yours, and you nodded.

“Me too, me too, me too- fuck!” you came without warning when he hit your g-spot, arching your back and clenching around him as you rode it out. This triggered his own orgasm, and he grunted, spilling inside the condom with one last thrust.

You clung onto each other for a few moments, catching your breaths, before he pulled out of you and disposed of the condom, coming back to pull you into his arms.

“I don’t last very long these days, I’m sorry,” he said, seeming actually shameful as he ran his fingertips up and down your arm.

“Don’t apologise. That was so hot. You’re so hot,” you murmured, unable to resist from placing your fingers on his chin and kissing him again.

“Aren’t you glad you messaged me?” he asked with a chuckle, and you nodded, giggling in ecstasy along with him.

“Aren’t you glad we ran into each other?”

#ask #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor blurb #present day roger #present day roger smut #roger taylor headcanon #queen smut #queen blurb

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the-insanely-cool-connor-mu-blog · 5 years

Text

Pretty (Soulmate!AU)

Part 1 bc tumblr’s a bitch

A/N: This is the long one I was talking about sorry it’s shit though

Word Count (for the whole thing): 2154 (ooh boy)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Swearing

Soulmates. Everyone knew they were your other half, your perfect counterpart. Everyone was born with a soulmark on their wrist dictating the first thing their soulmate would say to them. Yours was I can’t just talk to a pretty girl like that! Which was kinda sweet, you’d once thought. But then you’d realized your soulmate was probably going to be talking about some other girl. So after that, you kind of gave up on finding your soulmate. You just lived normally and didn’t let it bother you. Well, you tried to not let it bother you.

It was late Thursday evening, and you were working your last shift at the local Wendy’s. The place was pretty empty except for a couple of guys in a booth talking to each other. They were both making exaggerated gestures and seemed to be having a pretty heated argument. Finally one of them got up.

“I can’t just talk to a pretty girl like that!” the shorter one of the two muttered, walking past you to put his empty cup in the trash. You barely even registered what he had said. He was... actually super fucking cute, which was just great. There were no other girls here, so you realized he must be talking about you.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you talked to me,” you called out. Oh shit, did I just say that, he’s going to think I’m weird. Why did I do that?

He stopped in his tracks and turned around.

Oh God he thinks I’m a freak.

But he just stood there in shock.

And then it hit you. What he’d said. Oh God I’m an idiot.

His friend was smiling and giving him two giant thumbs up from their table. He rolled down his sleeve in silent disbelief, revealing the words:

Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you talked to me

You rolled down your own sleeve to show the words that had come out of his mouth just seconds earlier:

I can’t just talk to a pretty girl like that!

You both stood there awkwardly for a few seconds.

“I, uh, I’m Jeremy,” he stammered, shoving his glasses back up his nose.

“Y/N.”

“Well, uh it’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” He glanced over to his friend, who was miming writing something down. He nodded and, quickly grabbing a pen out of his pocket and scribbling something down, turned back to you.

“Here’s my number, if you wanna, like, talk or something,” he mumbled as he handed the paper to you, suddenly nervous all over again.

You smiled. “Yeah, I think I will.”

Jeremy and his friend left and you kept grinning. You’d finally found your soulmate!

Once your shift was done, you texted your best friend Zoe:

met cute guy @ work!

and he’s my soulmate!

AND i got his number!

Oh my God Y/N that’s amazing!

Wish I could meet my soulmate

don’t be so sad, zo! you’ll find your soulmate!

...i sound like the sappiest person alive

No you don’t, I just wish I could meet my soulmate sooner

you’ll find them!! now go to sleep, it’s like 10

Yes ma’am

You went to bed, though you wondered when you would see Jeremy again.

He came back a few days later, but this time his glasses were gone and he was wearing an Eminem t-shirt. He seemed to carry a new cocky swagger in his step, and you weren’t sure what to think of it.

“Eminem? Are people still into him?” you asked. You laughed at your own criticality, not waiting for him to respond. “I wouldn’t know anyway, my taste in music isn’t exactly.. mainstream.”

“Like, indie music and stuff?” He was still clueless as ever.

“More like musicals.” You immediately cringed, expecting him to laugh at you.

Instead, he just nodded. “Cool.”

“You lost the glasses,” you said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, they, uh—“ Jeremy stopped mid sentence, a look of intense pain on his face. “Are you okay?” you asked worriedly.

“Fine,” he choked out, “I’m perfectly fine.”

You frowned. He didn’t look fine. But he obviously didn’t want to talk about it.

“I don’t have any contacts, and I’m really nearsighted, so that’s a fun thing,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You laughed lightly. “Cool, what can I get you?”

“Actually, I’m not getting anything. Just wanted to say hi.”

“Oh. Okay,” you said, bobbing your head up and down. And with that, he left, leaving you confused and bewildered.

One day he came with a pretty girl who you assumed was his girlfriend. You felt a pang of jealousy as you tapped at the register.

Every time he stuttered or went to scratch his neck, he immediately sat bolt upright as if he had been shocked. The girl noticed too, and had to leave halfway through the date, something about not wanting to miss play rehearsal. Jeremy slumped back in his seat, disappointed.

You couldn’t help but wonder if somehow he’d forgotten about you. You were his soulmate, after all. You’d always assumed that when you met your soulmate, you would immediately click and be inseparable, two halves of a whole. That you would always have him close by. But he was right here, and somehow he felt farther away than ever.

He didn’t come in for a few weeks after that, and you were beginning to get worried. You quickly typed up a text on your way driving home from work.

hey are you okay

The response came a few minutes later.

Yeah, I should be out of the hospital any day now

The hospital? Fuck, had something happened? Your mind raced with possibilities, each worse than the last. You typed another message, hoping to ease your anxiety.

jeremy?

why are you in the hospital?

It’s a long story but basically there were these like tic tacs that help you to be cool and they’re from Japan and mine kind of tried to take over all of human civilization so yeah

You frowned. What the actual, genuine fuck?

jeremy what the fuck

Obviously some really weird shit was going down. You swerved your car around in a Uturn to get to the hospital. You kept your eyes trained on the road, while a notification lit up your phone screen out of the corner of your eye.

I told you it was a long story!

Stopping at a red light, you quickly typed a reply.

yeah no shit

jesus christ

at least you’re okay

How did you know I was MIA anyway?

you haven’t shown up at wendy’s for four weeks

Honestly I just went there to see you the food is kinda shitty

You pulled up to the ER parking lot.

yeah lmao

but seriously

why didn’t you just ask me out once we figured out we were soulmates?

You didn’t wait for a response, already getting out of your car and slamming the door shut. Your phone lit up again with the notifications.

I was scared, I guess

I mean, it’s just you are literally the person the universe destined me for, no pressure or anything

I just didn’t want to try and then screw this up

You responded as you walked into the ER waiting room.

no i get it

it’s kinda intense

but since we’re kinda destined for each other and all

wanna go to lunch on sunday?

I don’t even know if I’ll be out of here by then

“I’m looking for Jeremy Heere?” you asked the receptionist. She nodded, finished her phone call, and typed something up.

“What is your relation to him?” she asked, her attention flickering back to you.

“Significant other,” you said, even though you’d never actually been on a date. But you were his soulmate, and that must have counted for something, right?

“He’s in Room 102, dear,” she smiled.

“Great, thanks,” you almost shouted, already running to his room. You burst through the door and found Jeremy.

He looked so fragile attached to all the tubes and wires. There were dark bags under his eyes, and his glasses were back.

“Oh my god are you okay?” You asked, taking a tentative step towards him.

He cracked a brief smile. “Oh, no, definitely not,” he quipped.

“So,” you said, perching on the edge of the bed, “what the everloving fuck is a Squip?”

He spent the next half hour explaining the whole situation. The Halloween party, the Squip, the play. All of it. When he finally finished you whispered, “Holy shit.”

“Yeah. I understand if you wanna, like, never talk to me again or something,” he mumbled.

“Why would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you? I literally almost doomed the entire human race. You deserve a better soulmate.”

“No, I don’t. You’re amazing. You’re smart and funny and really cute. Besides, I don’t think there are refunds on soulmates. Maybe we could catch a movie?”

He smiled a little. “Yeah. I’ll text you as soon as I get out.”

“I’ll see you then,” you said, leaving the room.

Three days later you got a text from Jeremy.

I’m out of the hospital

finally!

So, um

I was thinking we could see a movie tonight?

sounds good!

your choice!

pick me up @ 9

You don’t have to if you don’t want to

Oh lol

You sat on your couch, tapping your foot as you watched the clock. Eight fifty-seven, eight fifty-eight, eight fifty-nine, nine.

You glanced at the door. He was almost here, hopefully, definitely not standing you up...

The doorbell rang, and you sprang up and ran to it in a flash of nervous energy. You opened the door, grinning, to find Jeremy standing there looking about as nervous as you felt.

“Is it gonna be weird if my dad drives us?” he asked gesturing to the unfamiliar car in the driveway.

“It’s fine.”

He relaxed. “Okay, cool, good.”

You two were a bit squished together in the backseat, and Jeremy’s dad made some remark about how happy he was his son found his soulmate. The ride was overall a bit awkward, but you chatted with Jeremy. Turned out you went to the same school—what were the odds?

Mr. Heere pulled up to the theatre. “Welp, this is where I leave you kiddos. Have fun!” he called as you stepped out. You couldn’t wait to see what movie Jeremy had picked.

When you looked at the tickets you found, surprisingly enough, it was a romcom. You teased him about it a bit. He just shrugged and said, “I always like a good love story.”

“Okay, dude,” you laughed, buttering the popcorn.

At one point during the movie, you laughed exceptionally loudly at a pun that was so bad it was fucking hilarious. Jeremy couldn’t really pay attention to the movie, though. He was more focused on your bright smile and beautiful laugh. You swore it was the ugliest laugh ever, but to him, it was angelic, like tinkling bells. You noticed him looking at you.

“What?” you asked, a bit defensive.

“Um, can, can I kiss you?” he asked anxiously, sure you’d say no.

“Yeah,” was all you could think to say.

And he kissed you, and honestly you had no clue what you were doing, you just knew this was right, somehow. You pulled back eventually, your face bright red. Jeremy noticed and went almost as red as you.

“I’m sorry, was that bad? I don’t really—“ he started to ramble, only to be cut off by you.

“No, it’s just, I’ve never, y’know, done that before,” you admitted.

“Seriously? How?”

“This might shock you, but being who I am, I don’t exactly have a line of guys falling at my feet. Let’s just—watch the movie, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“No Fault In Our Stars references.”

“That’s fair.”

Soon enough the credits rolled around. You couldn’t quite remember when, but at some point, engrossed in the movie, you had slipped your hand into Jeremy’s. Neither of you had let go yet.

“Now that I know you like chick flicks, does this mean you wanna watch The Notebook next time?” you joked as you two walked out of the theatre, your hands still intertwined.

He made a face. “Definitely not.”

You giggled. “Okay, okay,” you said, throwing your free hand up in mock defeat.

“My dad’s gonna drive us back, too.”

#this is shit i apologize #jeremy x reader #jeremy heere x reader #bmc #be more chill #bmc x reader #be more chill x reader #jeremy heere #no one deserves to be forgotten

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ibroughtanarsenal · 4 years

Text

FLASHBACK: FIRST MEETING

WHEN: November 2019

WHERE: Life Recovery Center

WHY: Jason goes to see Roy for the first time in three years.

WHO: @thatsjasonfkntodd @ibroughtanarsenal

Jason: Jason had kept himself busy since practically the second he’d broken things off with Roy, whether it was the day after, a week later, or two years. He’d given neither of them so much as a moment to second guess it. Roy hadn’t had a chance to stop him and, as always, Jason did not allow himself to stop it or take it back. So when it was done it was done.

He’d heard through the grapevine of things that Roy had gone to Gotham, which Jason had avoided like the plague for a whole host of reasons. Roy being there had just been one more to add to the list. By the time he had gone back, Dick and Roy were already in Star City, so then he’d avoided that for awhile, too. A gun to his head wouldn’t have made him admit the reason in so many words. He would’ve said he went where the work was, and that was even partially true. His family and Roy in the same place had been more than enough to keep him away, though.

A few months ticked by. Whether it was purposeful or not, Dick dropped the info that Roy was a counselor in a rehab center. Even Jason struggled to tell when his rambling was only rambling and when he meant for someone to get something from it. It was an incredibly irritating technique. Either way, he still sat on the knowledge for a few months. Bruce dropping the bottom out of everything by revealing his identity had been a distraction, but that had partially worn off by the holidays.

Whether it was coincidence or his mind trailing back to it subconsciously, Jason found himself standing in front of the little rehab center late one night. He’d gone half his usual route as Red Hood and come up empty handed enough to get bored. He couldn’t turned over some stones or spent the night fucking with NOVA, but...he walked in the front door of the center instead. He’d dumped his gear and his mask already, so it was just Jason, a pair of jeans, and a hoodie pulled up around his face. Roy: Roy wasn’t the type to dwell. He never thought he was, anyway, even though the past had a nasty habit of catching up to him when he least expected it. That was what repression was all about, right? All those god damn buzzwords were always in his brain. Sometimes he hated adopting the vernacular that sounded rehearsed coming from the wrong people. That was part of what attracted him to this job. He could relate to the kids and wayward adults who saw through the bullshit. Most of them were just over it.

The news that Jason was in Star City hit him hard. He didn’t let it show, not with Dick staring at him like he was waiting to fetch some smelling salts, and he made an offhand, sarcastic comment he couldn’t even remember now. They hadn’t talked about it since. He pushed the conversation from his mind and tried to forget about it completely. He didn’t know why Dick had to tell him in the first place, or what good it would do, and the memory came to him inconveniently throughout the day or - sometimes - in the middle of the night. He didn’t know exactly how he felt about it, but whatever the feeling was left him sitting on his fire escape nursing vodka hidden in a Dasani bottle just in case Dick or Bruce were lurking on a nearby rooftop.

At least he had his job. He liked it, for the most part, even though he was always the first one out the door when it was time to leave. Not that he had anywhere to be, but by the time his day was over he was sick of hearing people talk. He wanted silence. He wanted his quiet apartment with its peeling paint and the bolted door. There were demons there, but they were safe ones. He could handle them.

Today was different. He got wrapped up in a session - and afterward, he couldn’t get the kid out of his head. Once he started researching his background, he ended up in a veritable rabbit hole. There was too much information to wade through and he was fascinated by all of it. When he finally stopped to look at the clock, he was shocked to see that it was almost seven.

Sighing, he reluctantly turned off his computer and picked up his jacket, fishing his keys out of the pocket as he made his way to the front of the building. It was quiet; he had a vague recollection of Nancy (Norma?) telling him he would have to lock up.

He didn’t even see Jason at first, preoccupied with figuring out which key locked the door (because fuck, who chose to work late when they didn’t have to?) and by the time Roy looked up and saw him, he started so violently that the keys practically flew from his hand and slid across the floor. “Jesus Christ! …Jay? What the fuck? I thought I was about to get mugged.”

Jason: He hadn’t checked the hours of the place. There had been a light on and he hadn’t had to break in to get inside, so if it was out of the norm for Roy (or anyone) to be there, he didn’t notice. The reaction he got did make him smirk, though, and as soon as the keys hit the floor he caught the corner of one with his boot and flipped the set up into the air to catch them.

With his free hand, he reached up to pull his hood down. The shock of white hair right in the front of all the black was still there. “When’d you get so jumpy? If I was mugging you, did you think squealing would stop me?” Roy: “You’re an ass.” Roy snatched the keys from Jason’s hand and gestured at the hood, as if that were enough to explain his reaction. “But I'm afraid we don’t offer rehabilitation for that.” He was kidding, sort of. It was easier than letting the reality of the situation sink in. Even though Jason had been on his mind frequently, he didn’t expect to see him standing there, right in front of him, and it shook him up more than he cared to admit. He hated how obvious it was.

Exhaling softly, he leaned past him to bolt the door so they were locked in. The center closed an hour ago. Norma (it wasn’t Nancy, he was pretty sure of it now) would be pissed if she knew he didn’t close on time. “Didn’t expect to see you any time soon.”

Jason: “First step to recovery is admitting you’ve got a problem, and I don’t recall confessing to any of that.” It would’ve been easy enough to just stage some kind of stupid run in on the street, probably in broad daylight. Roy was far from stupid, but he didn’t tail people like Jason (or anyone who’d ever worked with Batman) did. He could’ve followed him and made it look natural. That had seemed more dumb and contrived than just giving in and walking into the rehab center.

Jason shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans like he was creating some invisible bubble of space around himself that he both wouldn’t leave and wouldn’t invite anyone else into. “Any time soon? Did I get hit in the head again or has it not been almost three years?” He got the feeling that Roy didn’t need reminding of that anymore than he did.

Roy: Roy chuckled dryly and leaned against the door, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, here’s your chance and I’m your priest. That’s why people come to places like this.” Not that the steps ever worked for him. He had to figure out his own combination of therapy and medication. Even that was still a work in progress. On the outside he was a hell of a lot better than he’d ever been, but he wasn’t cured.

Three years. Had it been that long? Frowning, he shook his head slightly, but then stopped himself as he thought about the series of events that followed their separation. Time passed differently before he got back into rehab. He lost months of his life. There was a whole summer he couldn’t remember, other blank spots in his memory, and the alarming thing was that it wasn’t alarming. “Yeah,” he finally said. “Funny. Doesn’t seem like that long to me.”

Jason: “Father Harper. That creeps me out even as a joke. Black never was a good look for you anyway.” Now that he was there in front of him, he wasn’t sure why. If Roy asked him, did he have an explanation? If it was only to know that he was alright, he could’ve asked Dick. Hell, he could’ve just followed him long enough to see.

Jason moved to lean his back against the cool wall. The place smelled like some kind of cheap cleaner someone had used on the floors. “Yeah...me either,” he admitted. Probably because he hadn’t stopped for the entirety of it.

Roy: “Don’t… don’t ever say that again.” The banter made it easy for Roy to put off the inevitable question, even though he did want to know why Jason was there. He assumed it was to check in on him, some sort of misplaced guilt or obligation, maybe to make sure the result of his tough love hadn’t crippled him or something. Not that he would expect Jason to admit he was there because he was worried about him or anything.

And maybe in the past he would have given him that space, avoided putting him on the spot or making him uncomfortable, but he wasn’t going to stand here and guess what Jason’s motivations were. He would probably be wrong anyway. “Why are you here? Why now? Dick told me months ago you were in town."

Jason: “Of course he did. Dick can’t keep his mouth shut about anything ever.” Except pretending to be dead. He’d been real hush hush about that. Either way, Dick was of course the reason he’d known that Roy was there, too, and exactly how to find him. He was more sure by the second that was on purpose.

Jason turned his head and looked back out the glass part of the door. The street in front of it was dead and didn’t offer one single distraction. “I was in the neighborhood.”

Roy: “You were not.” Roy wasn’t an idiot. He knew Jason knew he wasn’t an idiot. He also knew Jason better than to think his nonchalant attitude was 100% genuine 100% of the time. It didn’t mean he was going to get a straight answer, though, and he kicked his heel against the doorframe, gripping his keys in the palm of his hand.

It wasn’t right that Jason could waltz in like this and here he was, like some lost puppy dog, hanging on his every word. “Why do you gotta be so…” He trailed, gritting his teeth.

Jason: “Charming? Talented? Disarmingly handsome?” An asshole. Roy was trying to ask him why he had to be such an asshole, he was sure. If Jason had an answer for that buried somewhere in his head, he didn’t reach for it. Instead, he pulled his hands out of the pockets of his jeans and lifted them both briefly into the air before letting them drop. “It’s been three years, man. You can tell me to get out if you want to. I just wanted to see you.” He wouldn’t have even taken it that far for many people. Hell, even his family wouldn’t have got that straight of an answer most of the time. Jason didn’t want to be told to leave.

Roy: The words were disarmingly close to the actual words in his head that Roy had to laugh. “Exactly. So first off, fuck you for that. I didn’t even brush my hair this morning. I probably look like a muppet.” He wasn’t going to tell him to leave. There was a reason he was leaning against the door, subconscious as it was, and the fact that Jason had given him an answer at all was enough for him to relax and release some of the tension he didn’t even know he was holding onto. It was simple, but it was enough. “I’m not going to kick you out, dude. I missed you. I wanted to see you, I just didn’t know what to say. You made a choice and I was trying to respect it, you know? That’s something they taught me about. Respecting boundaries and all that.” Jason: “You’ve got that Elmo look going on.” Despite Jason’s continued insistence that he needed no one, not family, not friends, not partners, he always seemed to find them. Or they found him. Either way, Jason Todd, loner extraordinaire, was rarely anymore alone than Bruce was. A lot of that had been on Roy, who had adamantly refused to let him be. He’d been fucking annoying about it, even, until Jason had relented. For awhile he’d been better for it, but he hadn’t been selfish enough to put that first.

“I didn’t set the boundaries for me.” And, frankly, he hadn’t wanted Roy to come find him and talk to him first, because it would’ve meant that it hadn’t worked. Roy: It took every ounce of self control for Roy not to reach up to fix his hair. He could already imagine what it looked like. He threw on his clothes that morning in under ten minutes. If he knew this would be a day much different from all the other days that just bled together, he would have gone about it differently. It didn’t help that he slept through his lunch break to catch up on a restless night, either. Shitty break. Jason’s timing was never on point.

“Maybe not. But it wasn’t good for you either, being around me while I was like that, so…” Roy spread his hands, then realized he was still holding the keys and he slipped them into his pocket with a sigh. “It was the right thing.” Jason: Jason hadn’t needed the validation, necessarily. He’d remained sure that breaking things off with Roy in both a personal and ‘professional’ sense had been the right call. It had sent him running to Dick, apparently, and Dick was...better suited for it. Taking care of people. His path, Bruce’s path, wasn’t the one for Jason. It never would be. But just because he’d made that decision didn’t mean he’d intended to drag Roy down even further than he’d already been naturally inclined to go. Drugs and drinking were one thing, but killing? Jason’s brand of justice? That was a different ballgame.

“It did something. You’re here,” Jason nodded down the empty hall. “Helping people. I assume.” Roy: Even though Roy wondered about what Jason was doing from time to time, it wasn’t as if either of them led conventional lives. They couldn’t exactly stalk each other on Facebook or get information through mutual friends. Dick was the closest thing to that and Roy knew his relationship with Jason was complicated.

But he also didn’t want to know. Moving out to Star City was an effort to start fresh, a new life, and carve out a path of his own. For now he wasn’t bound to the Justice League even though Dick had already approached the subject once or twice. Roy missed working with a team, but he also didn’t trust himself not to get someone killed. The stakes seemed too high this time.

“Yeah. I try, anyway. Every city needs a place like this.” Whether or not he was successful was another story. “What about you? You’re here, too.” Jason: “Looks like I am. I hadn’t planned on sticking around this long, but I wasn’t planning on Bruce blowing the cover he kept for fucking ever, either.” And for Joker. Of course that’s how it had happened. It made it that much worse.

He swept a hand back through his hair and stood up straight in a restless kind of way. Now that he was there and talking to him, he had no idea what he wanted out of Roy. They couldn’t just slip back into something. He’d wanted to know that he was alright, that he was...what? Moved on? That didn’t seem like it, exactly. “So this is what you’re doing now? Talk therapy?” Roy: Bruce’s identity becoming public was definitely a surprise. It changed the dynamics of the Justice League. Dick’s identity was pretty much public knowledge, along with the rest of the Robins (Jason's included), and it was something to take into account going forward. He had no idea what Bruce had planned and he didn’t think to ask. Ollie hadn’t made an appearance in Star City; Roy had no idea what Ollie was doing or where he was, actually, and he had no real need to reach out. He knew better than to rely on anyone as a support system. Even Dick, supportive as he’d been, couldn’t shoulder that burden for him. He had to rely on himself. It was something he was still learning how to do. Maybe that was part of the whole solo thing.

“Yep. What can I say? I need a day job.” He did his own thing at night. Sometimes he crossed paths with the others, but he mainly kept to himself. It was easier that way. When he didn’t feel like going out he had no obligations to fulfill and no one to disappoint. “Pretty dull, compared to what you’ve got going on. Work. Home. Bed. Patrol, when I feel like it. Does that put you at ease?” Jason: The last part of the answer surprised him. He’d assumed, maybe naively, that Roy had hung up Arsenal with the ban. Jason didn’t know if the Titans were still active, but if they were Dick hadn’t been running with them and he figured Roy hadn’t either. But he also hadn’t asked. “You’re going on patrol?” He didn’t answer Roy’s question. Roy: Roy shrugged. “Here and there.” It felt wrong to do nothing. To watch and to nothing. It was one thing to help at the rehabilitation center, but it was only one side of a much larger problem. “Solo,” he added, as if it were an afterthought. “I’m not with the Titans or the Justice League. I know they’re reforming.” He hadn’t decided how much he wanted to be involved yet, if he wanted this to be his life again, or if it would be better for him to walk away. It was hard to imagine doing the latter now that he was face to face with Jason - knowing that Jason wouldn’t be leaving Star City despite his association (or lack thereof) with his family. Jason: “I guess we’ve not been covering the same ground.” Jason didn’t deal with the same kinds of things he figured Roy did, though. Red Hood was still Red Hood. He had some nights of making life hell for NOVA, but mostly he focused on other things. A trafficking ring had been what brought him to the city, after all. “You must be keeping your hands pretty clean.” Roy: “Guess not. I’ve been discreet.” That is, Roy had been careful. Before they separated, he was heading down a dark path. He didn’t want to think about where it was leading him or what could have happened had he stayed on that trajectory. Going back on patrol with a clear head and with a new set of priorities made him much more levelheaded and logical about how he handled situations. He wasn’t violent unless there there was no other option. He grinned, but there was a humorless quality to it. “You probably won’t even notice I’m there.” He took the keys from his pocket and finally unlocked the door, kicking it open with the side of his sneaker, but he didn’t move out of the way. Jason: Jason wasn’t sure whether he was meant to take that as a time to go or what Roy intended for him to do. But he’d got what he came for, right? He’d seen him. He knew what he was up to, kind of. Roy, in kind, knew he was there in a more tangible way than just hearing Dick say so. He turned his back on the empty hall and walked over toward the door. “I dunno about that.” Roy: “Please. Everyone knows when Red Hood’s in the neighborhood. Can’t go into a bar and not hear about it. You got ‘em all hiding out like you’re their personal executioner.” Roy’s foot was in the door, holding it open a few inches, but he was still standing against it. He smirked faintly and shifted his stance as Jason approached the door, as if he realized he was blocking his way out, but the move allowed only the barest minimum of space possible for him to inch past. “Your head’s gonna get too big for your helmet, Jaybird.” Jason: “Depending on the situation, maybe I am.” Jason didn’t hand out death certificates every single time. Every job he took didn’t end in a pile of bodies. But if somebody deserved to die, if the world would be better off if they weren’t in it anymore, he took care of it. If anyone was stupid enough to really try to stop him, he sent his target off with some company.

Jason started to move past Roy and out the door, but he stopped himself when he was right in front of him. There was an intensity that he always had that, while different, almost matched Bruce’s but sat somewhere else on the spectrum. He had it as he looked at Roy right then. “If I wanted to find you again, is this the place to do it?” Roy: The no killing rule was an unspoken understanding between the Titans and on the Justice League. It never had to be communicated. They were the good guys and good guys didn’t kill. Roy always considered Jason a good guy, even when he broke the rules - but at this point in his life he knew that not even the strongest held beliefs could hold fast in certain circumstances. He didn’t regret what he did despite what followed and the trouble it brought him. It was justice. Maybe that was what kept him from jumping at the chance to be on a team. He wasn’t sure if he could adhere to the strong principles that held them together. There was always the possibility there, at least. He knew what he was capable of.

“Here?” Roy raised his eyebrows, his fingers curling over the doorknob as he forced himself to stay put even when Jason fixed him with that stare of his. It almost made him mad that so much time could pass (supposedly - he’d have to take his word for it), but he could still be transfixed by something so simple, something that everyone in that family seemed to possess in some broody form. “In an open doorway? I doubt it. But hey, maybe you’ll get lucky.” Jason: Roy didn’t owe him a straight answer. Roy didn’t owe him fuck all, actually, and if he’d been the kind of person that Jason was (which he never had been) he would’ve told him to get out as soon as he saw him that night. “You wanna tell me a specific doorway?” Roy: Even though Roy had always been a straight shooter, he had his own reasons for being guarded. Jason already walked away from him once. He didn’t hold it against him and things were different now, but that didn’t mean Jason wanted things to go back to what they were before. “Mine. I’m off Eighth and Park, at the Cascades. Apartment 708. Believe it or not, I don’t like to hang out at work.” Jason: “Still like Thai food?” Whether it was a product of all that time with Bruce or just that his mind had refused to dump the information, Jason still remembered what Roy used to order. Roy: “Yeah.” The mention jarred a memory and Roy frowned, but it wasn’t actually a bad one. There was something comforting about it. Familiar. Not much about his life felt like that when he looked back. “Yeah. That sounds good.” Jason: Jason slipped past him the rest out the door and stood in the fresh air for a second. He seemed to be considering whether or not to say something else, but after a beat he just settled on, “See you around.” Roy: Roy finally let the door close once Jason was outside. He locked it, nodding. “Yeah. See you.” He still had to lock the side door, so he gave a casual over-the-shoulder wave, as if the certainty of their next meeting weren’t even in question.

#c: thatsjasonfkntodd #jason todd #roy harper

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welllpthisishappening · 5 years

Text

The Period of the Long Change (5/15)

It’s quick. One second she’s standing there and everything is fine and then Emma looks up and it’s not. It’s awful. And the lights are too bright and there are too many rooms and too many opinions and her phone won’t stop ringing because everything seems to be changing all at once. She’s never been great at coping with change. But, maybe, if she can just figure it out and stay right where she is, with Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers, at her side, it’ll be alright.

It’s slow. One second he’s standing there and everything is fine and then Killian’s breath catches and it’s not. It’s terrifying. And the noises are too loud and there are too many questions and he can’t find the right answers to any of them, not sure how to cope with everything changing all at once. That’s never really been his forte. But, maybe, if he can just figure it out and stay right where he is, with Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations, at his side, it’ll be alright.

It’s another season and another challenge and Emma and Killian are both struggling to get over the boards.

Rating: Mature Word Count: More than 8K. I like adjectives. AN: As always, thanks for clicking and reading and being generally lovely. Having one-sided conversations with your baby is basically the same thing as therapy, right? Sure.

Also on Ao3 and FF.net and Tumblr if that’s your jam.

The music, honestly, was probably too loud.

Emma wasn’t entirely sure what the volume was at, but she was almost certain she could feel the beat under her skin and that probably wasn’t good for her eardrums or the actual baby sitting in a carrier on the goddamn floor.

She glanced at Peggy, seemingly oblivious to the volume or the generic tackiness of a Spotify playlist that was actually called totally 80s and Emma nearly tripped over a pile of papers she forgot she’d moved.

On the floor.

There were papers all over her floor.

It was, in theory, easier to organize that way – stacks for ticket sales and food options and non-gluten options because things were absolutely crazy and vaguely insane, but Will Scarlet still had a gluten sensitivity and he’d mentioned it fifty-two times in the last three days.

At least.

And there were piles for merch, some signed and some game used and all of it ready to be displayed and auctioned and they were going to get a video poker machine instead of a new roulette table because it was cheaper and Zelena was, suddenly, worried about budgets.

Emma had sat in four different meetings about the same budget in the last week.

She almost didn’t make it to the restaurant the night before, a pen still stuck in her hair when she barreled through the door and Killian’s whole face had done something entirely unfair because he kind of looked stunned when he saw her, but that might have been because they hadn’t really seen much of each other in the last few days.

He had PT and kept loitering at practice, despite several pointed opinions from both Vankald sisters about that in the group text, and Emma felt like she was constantly half a second away from throwing her phone out the window and screaming at everyone to leave them alone so she could make out with Killian in her office again.

They were really good at making out in her office.

But that would probably be difficult if there were still piles of papers on every flat surface and there were not enough hours in the day for everything Emma had to do.

So, really, the music might have been at an entirely appropriate volume.

Or, at least, an understandable one.

“We’re good, right?” Emma asked, glancing back at Peggy like a thirteen-month-old baby was about to respond to her. “Totally not going crazy.”

Peggy did, in fact, make a noise, some kind of gurgle and a mumble of ma, ma, ma, ma, tiny fists held up like she was challenging the air to drop gloves.

Emma sighed, closing her eyes lightly and her legs didn’t entirely appreciate when she crouched down, but she’d actually put her kid on the ground, so her legs could cope and her mind could cope and Killian kept sitting on the bench while the Rangers were practicing.

That new guy was good.

Not Killian good or Killian fast, but he was good and not on the IR indefinitely or worried about headaches or a Tylenol schedule that Emma actually had memorized at this point.

Nicklas Husinger did not have to walk as slowly as humanly possible on a treadmill while Ariel glared at him for forty-five minutes every day.

Emma needed to do something besides sigh.

Peggy tried to wave, but they hadn’t quite got the hang of it yet, a backwards move that made Emma’s heart grow. “You trying to tell me the music is too loud, babe?” she asked, more questions she knew she wasn’t going to get an answer to, but the song changed and Emma had always had a sort of soft spot for George Harrison and she’d picked Peggy up before she realized her fingers were moving.

“I know, I know,” Emma murmured, bobbing on her feet and trying to avoid a stack of papers that Merida had put in alphabetical order the day before. She had no idea where Merida was. Probably avoiding the music. “It’s not too loud, right? You’d definitely shout if it was too loud and we’re happy and kind of dancing. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

No answer.

A hair tug, and a slight gurgle, but no answer.

“This is a good song too,” Emma continued, weaving across her office and it looked like it was snowing out. She hoped it didn’t snow on Casino Night. They didn’t have a snow contingency plan. Shit they should probably have a snow contingency plan.

She’d make the entire goddamn roster walk to Gotham Hall if the cars couldn’t get there.

And Killian needed to get a tux.

“Oh damn,” Emma muttered, remembering that and wondering if there was a notebook somewhere that wasn’t already filled with half-finished thoughts and schedules. She made a face when Peggy did, eyes flashing down with an expression she hoped was repentant because Killian had read one time about talking to babies before they were born and how that affected their cognizant reasoning once they were born and Emma could only imagine the kind of impact she was leaving on her kids by swearing in their faces.

“Listen, when you know how to actually say words and not just yank on my hair to get my attention, I need you not to mention this entire afternoon to your dad, ok?” Emma asked, and she’d clearly lost her mind. “I’m serious, babe. Not a word. He should have reminded me about his tux.” Peggy squirmed, which Emma assumed was some kind of sign and she knew Killian didn’t forget about his tux and just didn’t want to go to Casino Night and the whole thing was a disaster.

The new guy was really good. He’d scored in the second game of the back to back. They were on a win streak.

Killian was probably watching film while walking as slowly as humanly possible on the treadmill.

“He’s really freaking out, you know,” Emma muttered, ducking her head to kiss Peggy’s forehead and the words weren’t supposed to shake their way out of her, but nothing had really gone according to schedule in the last week and a half and she was so ridiculously tired she was positive she was walking through some kind of constant fog.

“And he’s not really talking about it,” she added. “Which is kind of making me freak out. Are you a little freaked out too, Pegs? Because that’d almost be understandable.” Emma leaned back, not sure what she was waiting for, but the almost-raspberries Peggy blew into the air were pretty far down the list and her laugh sounded as genuine as it had since the almost date.

“That was about as eloquent as me,” Emma grinned. She was still almost dancing, shifting and rocking and twisting her hips and George Harrison had turned into the B52s and this playlist was going to single-handedly fix all of Casino Night, she was positive.

It was, at the very least, doing a pretty great job of calming her nerves.

She kept reading about post-concussion symptoms. In between meetings and budgets and numbers that Merida promised ten different times they’d reach because they didn’t have another choice, and Aurora had called twenty-two times in the last day to double check on the Garden of Dreams banner.

A goddamn banner.

That had gotten water damaged in New Jersey too.

Emma needed to stop reading about concussion symptoms. It was terrifying.

“It’s not that,” she whispered, half to herself and half to Peggy and, maybe wholly to the world, challenging everything and everyone because it was just a misdiagnosis and not CTE and it absolutely, positively was not going to be CTE, and indefinite didn’t mean forever.

At least not in this instance.

Peggy yanked on Emma’s laces.

“Hey,” Emma chastised softly, pulling away fingers and brushing kisses over the back of her daughter’s palm. Her phone was ringing again. It was probably Aurora again. It was definitely Aurora again.

She’d been avoiding Aurora like several different plagues.

Maybe she should have talked to Phillip about Aurora.

That felt like cheating.

“Hey, hey, hey, Pegs, what if we go on another field trip, huh?” Emma asked. She knew Peggy’s eyes didn’t actually get brighter, but it was comforting to think that this conversation wasn’t quite as one-sided as it definitely was. “We can go see A and maybe get Dad to stop staring at film that’s only going to make him mad and then we can totally avoid Aurora again. That seems like a pretty good plan, right? Maybe get some hot chocolate?”

“Are you avoiding Aurora?” Emma jumped several feet in the air, clinging to Peggy and Ruby grinned from the doorway, arms cross and feet crossed and a smile on her face that felt a little predatory.

Peggy started crying.

“Jesus Christ,” Emma hissed, nearly tripping over several stacks of paper and Ruby’s smile only got more pronounced. “Where the hell did you come from?” “Like in general or just now?” “Ruby.” She moved her eyebrows quickly, uncrossing her limbs and crossing the threshold before taking Peggy out of Emma’s arms without asking. “Hey, Pegs,” she cooed, rocking her weight between her feet and it took, exactly, three seconds for the crying to stop completely. “Is your mom interrogating you? She realizes you can’t answer, right? And it’s only a little weird that she’s conversing with you? An actual, human baby?” “It’s good for them to hear voices and be acknowledged,” Emma pointed out. She sank onto the edge of her desk, one of the few places she could do that and Ruby hummed.

It was decidedly placating.

And the phone was ringing again.

“Oh I’ve got no doubt you absolutely believe that,” Ruby said. “Or that it’s actually true.” “Where are you going with this?” “That you are wandering around your office, which incidentally looks like several different disasters, talking to a baby who can’t respond to you because you don’t want to voice your concerns to someone who can actually respond to you.”

Emma blinked. And pressed her lips together – tightly. She was, like, seventy-two percent positive the music got louder. But that might have just been the rushing in her ears and the pounding of her heart and she was not at all emotionally prepared for Ruby to get to the heart of the matter that quickly.

She was really pissed off at the Rangers for still winning.

And at Aurora for being worried about a goddamn, fucking banner. It was Gotham Hall. That banner was going to look ridiculous.

“How was that?” Ruby asked when Emma didn’t respond immediately.

“Absolutely terrible and totally wide of the net.” “Ah, that was actually funny, Em.” “I am occasionally funny,” she muttered, but she couldn’t quite get enough acid in her voice for it to sound like a convincing insult and she was way too tired to try again. Ruby probably knew that too.

“I’m still not disagreeing with you. But this joke felt a bit more like an attempt to prove how fine you are instead of how good your sense of humor is.” “Did you just come in here to lecture me?” “I mean, kind of,” Ruby shrugged, and there was something to be said for honesty. “I wasn’t expecting to find you soliloquy'ing your kid though. Isn’t she supposed to be at daycare? Or anywhere that is not suffering permanent hearing damage?” “You think the music’s too loud?” “I could hear it when I got off the elevator.” “You work two floors above me.” Ruby shrugged again, waving a hand through the air. “And I wasn’t in my office. I was talking to Zelena because…” She trailed off, glancing around the office for something Emma hoped she didn’t find and she didn’t entirely expect the weight of absolute and total dread to land in her stomach quite that suddenly or quite that painfully.

“If this is about Casino Night budgets again I’m going to curse Zelena to several other realms,” Emma warned, drawing a quiet scoff out of Ruby and Peggy fussed in her arms again. “But I’ve got a sneaky suspicion it doesn’t actually have anything to do with Casino Night.” Ruby shook her head.

“Is that why you didn’t go on the road swing?”

“That was mostly because I didn’t feel like being in Arizona or Nevada right now.” “Because you’re trying to make sure I’m not staging several different mental breakdowns in my office?” “You words, not mine,” Ruby pointed out. She took a step forward, pressing the toe of her shoe on Emma’s outstretched foot and her smile had a hint of something that felt a hell of a lot like disappointment to it. The dread in Emma’s stomach moved to her heart. “And you’re pulling Pegs out of daycare so you can have one-sided conversations with her.” “It was just one day,” Emma reasoned, but the argument fell flat and it wasn’t much of an argument and she probably would have taken Matt out of school too if she knew he wouldn’t, somehow, find his way onto the ice. “She’s a good...distraction. Ah, shit that’s a terrible description. Don’t tell Killian I called her that, that’s not what I meant at all.” “I realize that. Although your inability to choose the right words is, like, at least five eighths of the reason I didn’t go on the swing. Plus, they’re going to roll, nothing’s going to happen in two games that the rest of my team couldn’t deal with on their own.” “It sounds very impressive when you call your two assistants your team.”

Ruby flashed her a smile – less emotional and just a little happier and Emma’s entire soul appreciated that, the air around her not feeling nearly as heavy as it had before. “I am incredibly impressive at all times,” Ruby muttered. “And some kind of baby whisperer. Which I think you should remember the next time you let Scarlet and Belle watch your kids before you ask me.” “That was kind of a spur of the moment thing.” “I do not care at all. He’s been bragging about how great they were at it. You know I got pictures of them designing defensive schemes on the PK?” “Matt is four,” Emma argued. “What kind of defensive schemes could he come up with?” “I’d imagine he got a good amount of direction from Scarlet, but it included a lot of blocking shots and they were a little worried about the chance of sticks breaking which, you know, is horrible on the PK. But then, and this is straight from Belle because Scarlet would never admit it, mini-Jones got bored by defense and announced he was only ever going to be on the power play so he could score.”

Emma’s heart sputtered.

Or stopped.

It felt like it stopped.

It hurt like it stopped.

She was glad Ruby was holding Peggy.

Emma dug her nails into her desk, a move that wasn’t going to do her any favors in the long run, but in the moment at least made sure she felt like she was still tethered to the Earth. She squeezed her eyes closed, willing her lungs to continue functioning and Spotify was playing some kind of 80s rock ballad.

She didn’t appreciate that.

Spotify could go fuck itself, honestly.

“Do you know how terrifying CTE stuff is?” Emma asked, wincing when the question came out like a shout and the fear in her voice seemed to reach out and slap her. “And I didn’t...I didn’t even really think about it until now. I mean even after knowing everything about Liam and what happened then. I just…” She sighed, twisting her ring in between her fingers and her laces fell halfway down her arm. She’d forgotten to eat again. She really needed to remember where Merida was.

“It’s really bad,” Emma finished lamely. “All the stuff that could happen or go wrong.” “It didn’t with Liam,” Ruby pointed out.

“It could have.” “Have you been looking up CTE symptoms?” “If I say no are you going to tell me I’m an enormous liar?” “No, but only because the question was really more rhetorical than anything else. Your crazy eyes were a pretty good answer. Plus the aforementioned soliloquy.” “It wasn’t a soliloquy,” Emma grumbled, but that was a lie too and she knew her eyes looked insane. “It was just a vocal listing of plans.” “Does Cap know you’re looking up symptoms to a disease he doesn’t actually have?” “If you tell him that I’m looking things up, I will push you in traffic, I swear.”

Ruby’s eyebrows jumped immediately, lips quirking and Emma wished her face wasn’t quite as expressive. It was way too judgmental. She let out a low whistle, tracing her tongue over the front of her teeth and her eyebrows didn’t move when she turned towards Peggy.

“I think you’re mom’s kind of lost her mind,” Ruby muttered, gaze flitting back towards Emma when she spoke again. “There’s a reason Scarlet didn’t mention any of this to Cap. Because his eyes would do the same thing yours are doing, but he’d probably get a stick from somewhere and check several people with it until they yielded.” Emma’s laugh was shaky and nervous, but Ruby was right and it wasn’t CTE. It would be fine. Ruby also wasn’t done.

“Nothing is going to happen to him, you know that right?” she asked. “There was a diagnosis and a name and Ariel said as long as he followed the schedule he’d be able to get back by playoffs.” “That’s if we make playoffs.” “You’re just looking for excuses now.”

Emma didn’t argue, couldn't and didn’t want to and in the great, big list of everything that could have gone wrong in a life that was otherwise pretty fucking fantastic brain trauma wasn’t even close to making the list.

She hadn’t even considered it.

She’d thought about broken bones and ACL injuries and trades. She’d considered the possibility of blood clots and getting a skate to the back of the calf before she thought about concussions and the helmets were supposed to be better.

The hits weren’t supposed to be that hard.

There were rules.

That kid shouldn’t have lowered his shoulder.

“God, Mary Margaret really underestimated just how badly you’re dealing with this, huh?” Ruby murmured, and Emma almost didn’t realize she was talking to her.

She didn’t entirely appreciate it when she did.

“Are you gossiping about this?” Emma hissed, and Ruby actually had the audacity to roll her eyes. “Is that honestly what’s happening? Is the whole team doing it?” “Em, give us a little credit. We are not gossiping. We are worried. Exponentially. And Mary Margaret can’t keep a secret to save her life. You know this.”

She did.

And she knew it would, probably, be fine as long as they followed the schedule and actually made the playoffs and no one did anything even more stupid, but her mind was running on some kind of previously unknown level, pointing out everything that could go wrong and had already gone wrong and they’d been winning.

And she still couldn’t quite figure out why Killian didn’t tell her.

Or how she didn’t notice.

“Cap wasn’t keeping secrets because he’s an ass,” Ruby continued. She dropped next to Emma, bumping shoulders and they should have changed the playlist if they were going to have this conversation. The whole thing felt a little absurd. “You know that too, right?”

Emma nodded. “In theory.” “And in practice?” “I keep researching CTE symptoms and signs and what to look for when handling a loved one dealing with multiple concussions.” “That sounded a little clinical.” “It’s easier to deal with if I get a little clinical, honestly,” Emma mumbled. “Like I’m dealing with it from an outside perspective or observing or something.” “Yeah, how’s that working out for you?” “Like shit.” Ruby scoffed, resting her head on Emma’s shoulder and at some point they’d both started holding Peggy at the same time, fingers dancing over Rangers-branded merch and neither one of the Jones kids ever wore anything except blue.

“That endorsement deal fell through,” Emma whispered, not sure if she was supposed to broadcast the news, but Regina had told Killian before the team left the night before and maybe half her current research was being solely fueled by the look on his face. Like the entire world was ending.

He’d barely said two words for the rest of the night.

“I figured that would happen,” Ruby said. “That doesn’t mean Gina won’t get something better next season. She’ll probably get double the money from like...Nike or whatever on the force of her anger and the power of her glare alone.” “I don’t think Nike’s affiliated with the NHL. NFL, maybe. NBA definitely. Maybe, like, track and field because they’re in Oregon, right?” “I think that’s Under Armour.” “Nah, that’s Baltimore.” “Why do you know that?”

Emma shrugged, but she’d researched that too and Killian Jones was already the face of the NHL, but an endorsement deal and an equipment deal would have been big and several adjectives worth several zeroes and it would have been more than hockey.

She almost understood why he didn’t tell her about the headaches.

“It’s not CTE,” Ruby repeated, like that would get Emma’s mind to stop thinking or worrying or plotting for the metaphorical end of the world. “And this isn’t the NFL, Em. We’re usually way better at preventing this kind of stuff.” “I know that.” “Do you? Your music and baby theft suggests otherwise.” “She’s my baby,” Emma argued, groaning when Ruby laughed under her breath. “God, that sounded more defensive than calling her a distraction. Just...don’t tell Killian about any part of this conversation, ok?” “I’ve got no plans to do that at all, because I am not Mary Margaret, but I do think you should probably tell Cap about every single part of this conversation yourself. Tonight. You should have already, but you’re trying to save the Casino Night budget. And you’re you, plus Cap is him and he’s lurking on the bench.” “How do you know that?” Ruby stared at her incredulously, another judgmental look and there was not enough oxygen in any of the known universes for the amount of sighing Emma kept doing. “That’s insulting,” Ruby said. “And I knew about Locksley and Scarlet’s plan to intervention him.” “Can you use that as a verb?” “I just did, so…” “So let it be written,” Emma intoned, the sarcasm almost audibly dripping off her words. “I don’t think he wants to go to Casino Night.” “Do you?” “Not really. This budget is ridiculous and I’m considering several threats to the entire state of New Jersey at this point.” Ruby chuckled, making a face at Peggy, but her expression turned serious when she looked at Emma. “Zelena wants to do a promo on the new guy,” she said bluntly, and Emma had to swallow before she could completely process those words in that order.

“What?” “That’s why I wasn’t in my office. She...well, he’s been playing well and I guess there’s been some interest and one of my assistants said The Post wants to do a feature and--” “--He’s an AHL replacement,” Emma yelled, a noise Peggy did not appreciate and Ruby gaped at her when her voice cracked. She was standing up. She didn’t remember deciding to do that. “He’s not going to stick around that long.” “At least until the playoffs, Em,” Ruby said.

“He’s not going to be on the team that long.” “Emma…” “No, no, c’mon,” Emma argued, not sure if it was an argument or just her desperation, finally, boiling over, but Ruby looked a little wary of her when she started pacing a small circle on the few inches of open floor. “Who even is this guy? He’s not anyone. He’s not even that fast.” “I don’t think being fast is a prerequisite for being a good NHL player. It’s just plus.” “Well, he’s got a negative, then!” “I know you’re pissed, so I’m going to overlook that sentence.”

Emma cursed under her breath, tugging her hair over her shoulder and huffing out air she probably could have used to maintain her higher brain functions. “Does Killian know about any of this?” Ruby shook her head. “No, I came here first, because uh…” She wished she hadn’t stood up.

She wished the Earth would stop throwing metaphorical curveballs directly at her face.

She wished she could stop coming up with sports-based clichés.

“I’m not doing that,” Emma whispered, and she knew Ruby heard every word perfectly. “I’m not. Zelena can come down here and tell me if she wants to and I’ll tell her the same exact thing. I’m not hyping up some guy who shouldn’t even be on the team.” “He should be on the team, Em.” “No, he shouldn’t!”

The words sounded insane. She sounded insane. And her breathing was ragged, shoulders heaving and tears pricking the corners of her eyes and she was going to rip her laces in half if she didn’t stop yanking on them.

“He shouldn’t,” Emma repeated softly. Ruby moved a pile of papers before she walked towards her, resting a hand on her shoulder and trying to brush away tears and the team kept winning. She hoped that wasn’t a sign.

That was a shit sign.

“It’s not going to stay that way,” Ruby said, a promise she absolutely could not keep because the internet kept saying these things were temperamental and it was a waiting game and there wasn’t much to do except hope it got better.

“Right,” Emma mumbled. “Right, right. It’s...going to be fine. It is fine. Currently.” “Man, that was really bad.” She let out a watery laugh, squeezing her eyes closed when her hair found its way back into the grip of a questionably strong thirteen-month-old. “Super bad,” Emma agreed. “So, uh...if Mary Margaret told you about everything, I’m guessing she told you about…”

“Tink offering you a job? Emma nodded. “Oh, yeah, she opened with that because she knows not to bury her lede. I also heard from Tink, but that’s a whole other story.” “How do you know her?” “Well, first of all, I know everyone, so jot that down. And secondly, Regina knew her from the get. They went to college together or something. She tried to set her up with Cap once.” Emma’s mouth dropped, something that almost felt like wholly irrational jealous flashing through every inch of her, and she really needed Ruby to consider her conversational reactions before she did them. Laughing was not helping her state of mind.

“Relax, green-eyed monster,” Ruby muttered. “You’re the only one the set-up ever worked for. So retract those incredibly possessive claws.” “I don’t have claws.” “You had, like, slightly pointed nails. What did you say to Tink? And what did she say to you?

“Not much, really,” Emma said. “She told me she knew who I was and what a good job I’d been doing in New York and that she was offering me a job.” “And?” “And what?” “What did you tell her? That was almost a week ago.”

Emma shrugged. “I told her I’d think about it.” “Have you?” “Absolutely not.”

Ruby’s laugh wasn’t unexpected, but it was still a little jarring and almost as loud as the 80s music that was still, inexplicably, playing. “Of course not,” Ruby mumbled, a note of familiarity in her voice that was, almost, endearing. Her eyes darted to Emma’s desk when her phone made another noise, and neither of them were psychic, but they were both pretty good at making educated guess and it was only a matter of time.

And the world appeared to have a very twisted sense of humor.

“Stop reading the internet,” Ruby commanded. “And answer your phone.”

Emma took a deep breath, and she’d run out of places to run – metaphorical or otherwise – because there was stuff all over the floor and Ruby wouldn’t let go of Peggy and she knew all the words to the song playing from her computer speakers.

That felt like a sign too.

“Hello?”

“Emma,” Tink said brightly “I feel like we’re playing phone tag.” “Yeah, yeah, it’s uh...it’s been a bit of a crazy week since the break and we’re getting ready for our Casino Night and--” “--Oh, no I understand completely. I’m just happy I was able to catch you when you weren’t busy. I’ve spoken to your assistant several times.” “What?” Tink made a noise from wherever the hell she was, a hum and audible confusion, and Emma’s head snapped to Ruby, met with a shrug because she wasn’t Elsa Vankald-Jones and didn’t have supersonic hearing.

“I’ve spoken to your assistant several times,” Tink said slowly. “She said you were in meetings for most of the week or out of the office.”

Emma was going to have to buy Merida a new apartment. Or something. A car. A car was impractical in Manhattan. Maybe she’d just give her her job.

She was better at it anyway.

“Right,” Emma said, the word sounding strained and force and Ruby shook her head like there’d been a question at all. “Well, I’ve got a few minutes if you’re good.” “Emma, I called you.” “Right.” “I wanted to give you a bit more information on what exactly it is I’m offering you,” Tink started. “It is, frankly, an incredible opportunity.” “I’m all ears,” Emma mumbled, dropping back onto her desk. Ruby snickered.

It sounded like Tink smiled. “Perfect. Well, as I said, the league has taken notice of the work you’ve done in New York and, particularly, the work you’ve done with children and the Rangers. I think you’ve single-handedly sparked an entire new generation of Blueshirts fans.” She paused, like she was expecting Emma to laugh or agree and Ruby scowled when Emma didn’t do either.

“Anyway,” Tink continued. “The board of governors wants to continue to do just that. We want to expand the game to the youth and help grow interest across the country, maybe even the world. There’s been some talk of playing a few games in Europe and possibly a Winter Classic in Finland in 2030 and--”

“--And what does that have to do with me?” Emma interrupted. Ruby’s face was going to get stuck like that.

“Everything, in fact.” “These conversations always seem to end with me telling you I don’t understand what you’re talking about. I can’t imagine that’s a good first impression.” “Oh, we’re on a much later impression than that,” Tink promised. “Double digits, at least. That’s why I’ve been so understanding about your schedule, particularly with your husband’s injury. That kid they brought up from the ‘Pack scored a nice goal a few days ago, though.” Emma grit her teeth. “Yes, he did. What exactly does this job mean, Tink?” “You’d still be based in New York, I can guarantee that upfront. I know you’ve got young children to consider and I noticed your son was on the ice during the Skills competition.”

Emma took another deep breath, large enough that she was sure her lungs were going to jump out of her body and object loudly to the move. Ruby didn’t appear to be breathing. The computer was playing We Built This City. They’d never turned the volume down.

“Although there would be a considerable amount of travel involved,” Tink continued, and maybe they should get Elsa to schedule everyone’s conversations because she appeared to be the only person who could go from one point to the other coherently.

“Travel,” Emma echoed. Tink hummed from, maybe, Toronto.

“Oh yeah, of course. How else do you think you’re going to help run the events?” “You haven’t been exactly forthcoming with that part.” Tink laughed lightly, a chair squeaking in the background and Emma made a mental note to ask Regina this woman’s entire life history. She’d make Roland stand next to her when she did. Then Regina wouldn't be able to argue.

“The idea is to get kids on the ice,” Tink explained. “To increase youth participation in places where it hasn’t been all that impressive in the last few years. That means skating clinics, meet and greets with players and coaches and alums, instructional events and, I’m afraid, anti-concussion measures.”

“I’m not pro concussion,” Emma muttered, the words finding their way out of her without any sort of filter. Ruby had to press her face into Peggy’s stomach to muffle her laugh.

Tink clicked her tongue. “I’m not suggesting you are, just that it might be a touchy subject currently. But, as I’ve said, league-wide community relations has been a growing part of the brand over the last two decades. We’ve helped renovate arenas and get facilities into towns, now we want to make sure kids are interested and taught well from the moment they lace up.” “And you think I’m the best person for that job?” Emma asked skeptically.

“I wouldn’t be stalking you via phone if I didn’t.”

“That’s fair.”

“You’d get your own office, a team of professionals who’d be more than willing to do your bidding. I’m sure you can even take that assistant who’s very good at lying with you, if you wanted to. The pay would be...competitive, let’s say. And it’d be secure. This the direction the NHL wants to take with its fanbase. That’s not going to change any time soon.

I realize you’re busy, Emma,” Tink continued, a sudden business-like approach that didn’t quite match up with her voice. Emma sat up straighter. “But I think you’re the perfect fit for this. I think you can affect the game. I think you can do something incredibly positive with this opportunity and I’m going to need an answer by the end of the month.”

The phone went dead before Emma could even open her mouth, let alone with respond, and she exhaled so loudly her whole body heaved forward.

“So, uh, we going to dance party some more or, like, what’s the plan here?” Ruby asked, Emma’s laugh loud and slightly unstable.

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s totally the plan here.”

Emma managed to successfully avoid both Aurora and Zelena for the rest of the day, tugging Merida into her office when Ruby announced they had to switch to 70s music before I go insane and there was more dancing and a distinct lack of professionalism, but she did at least eat lunch, so she figured it all balanced out in the end.

And there was a game that night.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, twisting awkwardly in the back of the car to try and grab it and Killian had picked Matt up again. Emma had to change into merch in her office.

Did you know that Arizona is the country’s leading copper producer and that the Arizona capital is covered in the equivalent to 4,800,000 pennies?

Emma laughed out of instinct and years of doing just that and feeling even more and those were decidedly sentimental thoughts, but her shirt was almost identical to Peggy’s so comparatively it really felt normal.

I did not know that. Why did you know that?

If I tell you that I had to look it up is that cheating?

Nah.

Then I totally knew it off the top of my head.

She was only a little worried her smile was going to get stuck on her face, but there wasn’t as much traffic and a pair of Jones jerseys waiting for them outside the restaurant.

“Mom,” Matt cried as soon as Emma opened the door, dodging Killian’s arms and nearly taking her out at the knees. “Mom! Mom! Did you know that ice cream was invented in St. Louis?” “What?” Killian groaned, hands stuffed in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels and Emma furrowed her brows in confusion. “That’s not what the fact was,” he mumbled. “The ice cream cone was invented in New York, the guy got a patent and everything, but it was popularized at the St. Louis World’s Fair where the guy twisted a waffle into a cone-type shape.” “Naturally.”

“There was an educational part to the whole thing.” “Yuh huh,” Emma muttered, but her smile still felt stuck on her face and Matt was wearing his All-Star jersey. Killian shrugged when she looked at him. “What kind of ice cream did you get, Mattie? Were there sprinkles involved?”

“Chocolate and chocolate,” Matt yelled, and Killian shook his head.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Emma grinned, swiping her thumb over a missed spot of evidence at the corner of his mouth. “You still want dinner though? Because A and Eric may be upset if you don’t eat their food.” “Onion rings?”

“It’s an away game, kid. There’s always onion rings.”

He nodded enthusiastically, turning on his heels and running into the restaurant with their usual order on his tongue and Emma was fairly certain that was unnecessary. She also wasn’t sure if Killian could move.

“You ok?” she asked, a loaded question that seemed to be playing on loop out of her for the last week and a half. He nodded, but it looked stiff and unnatural and he had to twist his arms when Peggy reached for him. “We didn’t have to come, you know.” “Red would have killed me.” “You show for PT or just play hookie with ice cream?” “The ice cream happened after I walked the world’s slowest recorded mile.” “Somehow I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration. And this whole stupid team can do several words I won’t say out loud in case they wreck Peggy’s mental state. Honestly. This has nothing to do with them. I can yell if you want.” “You don’t have to yell, Swan,” Killian murmured. “Are you worried about Peggy’s mental state?”

“I mean, a little,” Emma admitted. “But mostly yours.” “I’m fine.” “So I’ve heard.” “Still true,” he said.

“Did he pick that jersey on his own?” Killian’s lips twitched, tongue darting between them and that was as much an answer as any of the words he could actually say. “Immediately,” he said. “I guess it’s got to get some use.”

“Was the ice cream before or after the costume change?”

“Before,” Killian laughed. “We ate the ice cream on the way home from school. I figured there was more time in between that and the onion rings then.”

“Super dad.”

He shifted Peggy between them, bending to brush his lips over hers and it wasn’t enough, but they were on a sidewalk and she could hear Ruby shouting and Mary Margaret trying to quiet her and she kind of wanted onion rings. “C’mon, love,” he said. “I’m sure there’s protocol I’ve got to follow for away games.”

There was, in fact, protocol, but Emma assumed it helped when you wore a shirt only actual team members got because your sister was also dating the equipment manager and it was all going pretty well.

There hadn’t been any fights, no terrifying hits, not even a penalty kill.

Matt kept shouting about offsides, but Emma wasn’t entirely convinced he was entirely sure what offsides was, and Killian kept an arm wrapped around his waist when he climbed onto the table that was always theirs. “You realize you’re mumbling instructions under your breath, right?” Emma asked, glancing at Killian out of the corner of her eye. The third period had just started, Arizona winning the faceoff and neither Roland nor Matt were very impressed by that.

“What?” Killian muttered. He didn’t take his eyes away from the TV.

“Instructions. Pass right and cross ‘em, which I didn’t entirely understand, and there was a few times in the second when they were all up against the boards and you just kept chanting ht him over and over again.”

Killian laughed, switching grips on Matt so he could lace his hand through Emma’s. Her heart fluttered. Or something less ridiculous with two kids and goddamn brain trauma and he smirked when he looked at her.

“He should have hit him that’s why,” Killian explained. “No one’s going to call that. Not in a scrum in in the first week of February. And certainly not in a non-divisional game.” “Seems like a lot of prerequisites.” He shrugged. “I almost know what I’m talking about.”

“Almost. Seriously what did cross ‘em mean? I can’t figure it out.” “You could have asked.” “What do you think I’m doing right now?”

Killian did something wholly unfair with every inch of his face, eyes practically flashing in the dim light of the bar and the hockey game on the TV and Emma wasn’t sure who groaned louder Ruby or David or Ariel.

Mary Margaret looked a little teary-eyed.

Leo had fallen asleep before the first period ended.

“If you guys are going to flirt this obviously, I need you to do it, like, twenty feet away from me,” David said. “At least.”

“Is this flirting, Swan?” Killian asked, and she knew she didn’t imagine how he leaned towards her. His arm didn’t move away from Matt. Absurd upper body strength.

Emma shrugged. “Kind of feels that way, doesn’t it?”

“It could certainly be argued that way.”

“I’m going to arrest both of you,” David warned.

“I don’t think you’ve got that kind of power, Detective,” Emma said. “What exactly is the crime?”

“Grossness.”

Ariel snorted into her drink, Ruby nearly choking on a half-cold onion ring, and Emma wished her glares had magical powers like Regina. It’d probably make her more intimidating.

“Shut up, David,” Ariel muttered. “This is almost cute. I mean it’s super gross because your kid is right there and we’re right here, but it’s also kind of endearing in a romance type way.” “Stop talking, Red,” Killian said. “Swan, you want to keep flirting with me and break all of the rules of this ridiculous tradition?”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day,” Emma muttered, and it was a very strange, slightly dangerous balancing act while one of them was trying to keep a four-year-old from falling off the table, but she swore she felt actual electricity when Killian’s mouth found hers.

She was probably so sentimental because she hadn’t really been sleeping.

Maybe they needed some help.

And someone did, eventually, have to score.

They goal sound went off, ricocheting off the walls of the restaurant and, what felt like, the inside of Emma’s head, and she hated the AHL kid.

Her eyes flashed to Killian, jaw set and shoulders straight and she could feel the tension rolling off him as clearly as if it were being broadcast as well, a muscle in his temple jumping as soon as the first line crashed against Husinger in the corner of the ice. “Em,” David mumbled at the same time Ariel whispered “Cap,” and she shook her head hard enough it hurt her spine.

Her hand was still wrapped up in Killian’s.

“You want to get some air?”

“Yeah,” Killian said, standing up and fixing Matt’s jersey. “Here, c’mon, get off the table, Mattie. You uh…” “We’ve got it, Cap,” Ruby promised. “C’mere, mini-Jones. Let’s talk strategy.”

He didn’t let go of her hand when they walked back onto the block, or possibly the other way around, leaning against the side of the restaurant because there was snow on the curb.

“I’m sorry about--”

“--No, no, don’t apologize,” Emma cut in, and seriously she needed to ask Elsa for conversational tips. Maybe she needed to ask several people for help. Killian blinked in surprise, a fair reaction to the absolute vitriol in her voice and Emma wasn’t mad at him.

She was mad at...the world.

That sounded ridiculous. There wasn’t really anything to be mad about. Killian was fine and would be fine and this team would probably make the playoffs, but Emma’s brain would not shut up and even an absurd dance party in her office wasn’t enough to distract her for more than a few hours when that AHL asshole scored another goal.

“Red was upset she didn’t get an invite to your club this afternoon,” Killian said, mouth tugging up when Emma spun towards him. “Although I was a little confused by the specifics of it.” “It was kind of impromptu. How did she find out?” “How does anyone find out anything on this team? An absurd string of talking and gossip and interfering in each other’s lives.”

Emma laughed, humming in the back of her throat and Killian tugged her hand up when she tried to rest them both on his chest, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “When I was in school, I usually went to Reese’s house on breaks,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice light. “But one time, Christmas break of senior year, David invited both of us to his mom’s house. Ruth had way more rum for pies than Mr. Blanchard did. And she also had a questionably large record collection. Old 45s and singles an almost impressive amount of Beatles albums, like every one and then some collectors editions, and it was just...enormous.

And one day, Ruth went shopping and left us in her house with her alcohol and her music and we got incredibly tipsy on rum and found her collection of 80s hair bands. Ruth loved White Snake, you know.”

Killian’s laugh was more a guffaw, hot air moving over Emma’s skin because he’d never actually pulled his lips away from her wrist. She hoped he couldn’t feel how quickly it kept beating.

“I can’t quite imagine that,” he admitted.

“Swear to God, it’s totally true. So we started listening to White Snake and Duran Duran and Reese’s put on a pretty fantastic show of singing Living on a Prayer and Ruth totally caught us, but then she started singing too and it might have been the best Christmas I’d ever had until--”

“--Until,” Killian interrupted sharply, and Emma knew her cheeks were flushed. She’d blame the cold. It didn’t have anything to do with the cold.

“Until we stole a Christmas tree,” she said. “And every subsequent iteration after that just keeps getting better, don’t you think?” Killian nodded. “But, uh...the 80s thing kind of stuck with me and Reese’s and it’s a comfort thing or something less lame sounding.” “That doesn’t sound lame.” “That’s generous of you.” “I promise, Swan,” Killian said, and there was no way to doubt it or him or them and she needed to stop looking up CTE symptoms. She wished Husinger hadn’t scored. “I didn’t know that though.”

“I’m full of surprises, I guess.” He hummed, moving to the side of her jaw and the curve of her cheek and Emma bit her lip so David wouldn’t actually arrest them for public indecency. “I need to tell you something,” she muttered. He didn’t stop kissing her. “Killian, I’m serious.”

He leaned back, face even and Emma felt like she was standing at center ice in the middle of overtime and there was probably another gold medal on the line.

That was probably easier than this.

“I, um…” Emma started, tilting her head and hitting herself in the face with her hair. “I don’t think it’s going to actually matter, but you’re right about this team and I didn’t want you to hear from someone else before me and…”

“What, Swan?” “The league offered me a job.” Killian blinked, opening his mouth only to close it again and she didn’t expect him to kiss her.

His arm wrapped around her waist tightly, pulling her flush against his chest and that tongue thing was ridiculous because she couldn’t think when he did that, and Emma was sure he’d planned it that way.

She felt like she was breathing him in, fingers moving on their own and into his hair and she gasped when his hips canted up, rocking against her and the brick wall behind him in equal measure. Emma had to press up on her toes to reach him, a fact Killian didn’t seem particularly inclined to complain about any time soon.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Emma mumbled, earning a groan for talking that might have been because her left hand had found its way under his shirt. “That’s...this was unexpected.” “That’s incredible, Swan.” “What?”

“A job with the league?” Killian asked, leaning back again with a disbelieving look on his face. “That’s incredible. And exactly what you deserve to be doing, love.” “But I don’t…” “You don’t what?” “I just don’t have time to think about that right now.” He blinked again. She didn’t want him to do that. She was stupid attracted to the color of his eyes. “What does that mean?” “I’ve just got a million other things to do,” Emma explained, and she was ready for his eyebrows that time. They twisted and turned and arched and she had to breathe through her nose to stop herself from sighing too loudly. “And I bet they’ve got plenty of other people who could do it better than I could.” “They asked you though.” “I don’t really want to focus on it now. Let me get through Casino Night and that stupid thing we’ve got to do because Phillip hit some point marker first.” “When is that?” “Hopefully before Casino Night,” Emma quipped, and she felt Killian’s laugh before she heard it, lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. “I just didn’t want you to hear about it from Rubes or Reese’s before I told you.” “Do they know about it?”

Emma nodded. “They were both there when I got the phone calls.” “Plural?” Killian asked, voice catching on the word and eyes widening slightly and that was worse than the blinking.

“Tink was very determined, I guess.” It could not have been good for his face to be experiencing so many emotional changes at once. “Yeah, yeah,” Emma muttered, tugging on his t-shirt and one of them should have grabbed a coat. “Ruby told me about that. I mean you wanted to have two painfully adorable kids with me, so I’m not really threatened by the league lady with the slightly ridiculous laugh.” “We could keep making out on the sidewalk if that’d help.” “Nah, I bet David would actually arrest us. Hey, you think we can get him to arrest this AHL jerk? I bet I could get him to do it.” “He’s doing his job, Swan,” Killian said. “He’s supposed to score goals, I don’t think that makes him a jerk by default.” Emma nodded, lower lip jutted out slightly. There were goosebumps on her arms. “That was good,” she mused. “Super convincing, appropriate PR response.” “I’ve been practicing.” “Yeah, I figured. I was almost totally serious about the arrest.”

“I know you were, love, and as much as I appreciate that particular abuse of power, I think we’re good. And you should send the season tickets the e-mail thing about him. It’s ok.”

She almost stumbled over her own feet, jerking back and only staying upright when Killian’s hand tightened around the back of her shirt. “How?” Emma demanded.

“Zelena found me. Told me she knew you’d put up a fight and maybe I could help.” “Jeez.”

“It’s not your fault, Swan,” Killian said, and she knew they weren’t just talking about Husinger. “None of it. You’ve got to do your job. And that was a good goal.” “It was a shit goal and he’s a shit winger and I hate him.” Killian chuckled, kissing her quick and Emma chased after him, but they needed to get back into the restaurant and she heard the door swing open around the corner. “That’s the spirit,” Killian mumbled.

“Hey, uh, guys,” David called. “There’s some kind of argument happening here about proper faceoff technique and I think Matt’s going to challenge Rol to drop gloves.” “Yeah, we’ll be right there,” Killian said. The door sounded very loud when it closed. “It’s alright, Swan,” he continued. “Admittedly not great, but…” He shrugged, mouth twisted and Emma’s heart lurched, some kind of deep-rooted need to make sure he knew how good he was and better than that and he deserved a better schedule than the one they’d come up with.

“Super dad,” she whispered instead, and Killian kissed her before they went back into the restaurant.

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #cs fic #blue line change #i seem to have a habit of making casino night very dramatic always #someday i'll just let them have fun at casino night

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astro-rain · 4 years

Text

delicate; b.barnes

chapter one - “to wakanda”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1,564

summary: reader works for what used to be shield as a highly skilled neuropsychologist. after the events in vienna involving the sokovia accords and a bombing, she gets an interesting request from friend and coworker sharon carter...a request involving none other than steve rogers and james barnes.

[A/N:] not my photo

warnings: brief & indirect mentions of abuse

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

"I don't know Sharon. Are you sure I'm really the right person for this? I'm not, like, an Avengers level tech. Are you sure they don't want a genius or someone like Stark to do it?"

"Well, Stark is pretty busy right now, and honestly, no one knows psych like you. Not who I've met anyway."

"That is so not true. I'm willing to bet there's tons of other people you guys got somewhere who are ten times what I am."

"Agent (Y/L/N), in case you missed it, SHIELD isn't what it used to be. Sure we have old agents who aren't formally 'SHIELD agents,' anymore, but we don't have the expendability we used to. You're our best bet at the moment."

"Damn. I'm your best bet. I'm sorry," she almost chuckled, but then she thought for a brief moment. "Are you sure this is completely necessary? I mean, I saw the photo on the news. The quality's poor at best, and..."

She leaned in, discretely, and whispered.

"...not to seem like a conspiracy theorist commie or anything, but it kinda seems like people are jumping to conclusions here. Are we even sure it was Barnes who set off the bomb?"

Sharon looked around them, cautiously. No one seemed to be listening, but she scanned the room like her life as she knew it was hanging in the balance. She weighed her words in her head, making sure she picked the right ones, then formulated a response appropriate.

"Regardless of if it was him or not, Barnes still escaped. and before that, Ste-we'd been looking for him for almost two years. This analysis is necessary," Sharon brought her voice down even lower. "At least that's what I keep being told. Of course I'd like there to be more solid proof, but I'm not in charge here. He's gone, and they want to be able to find him and 'sort things out.'"

"'Sort things out,'" (Y/N) repeated, questioning the genuineness of whomever told Sharon that. "Unless they have hard evidence that it was him who set off the bomb in Vienna, shouldn't they leave that to uh...Captain America?"

She wondered how Barnes was able to escape in the first place. She saw the containment module he was in; there's no way he could've gotten out without a fight. ...But maybe it wasn't a fight. Perhaps it was a trigger word induced rage. (Y/N) understood a basic layout of the "Winter Soldier." SHIELD would've kept any information they had classified. However, after the fiasco in Washington, d.c. with Hydra and the whole releasing of all files predicament, she was able, with Sharon's help, to put together a simple outline. With that being said, he couldn't have broken out without going Winter Soldier mode. But doesn't someone need the trigger words for that?

“That's what a reasonable person would think, but once again, I'm not in charge," Sharon shrugged. "Things would probably be going a lot smoother if I was, but you can't have everything."

(Y/N) cracked a smile. Sharon was a friend, and a good one too. They'd known each other since before SHIELD was shattered in 2014. In fact, Sharon helped train her.

The only thing was: Sharon was a higher ranking agent and often withheld certain information from (Y/N). It frustrated her. This was where their personal boundaries got in the way of their professional ones.

She could tell there was something Sharon wasn't telling her, but she wasn't about to compromise either of their positions by pushing for information she wasn't supposed to know. Hell, maybe even Sharon knows something she isn't supposed to. Or maybe she knows something that Everett Ross wouldn't like. What if she was keeping something from him? Defying him? What if she was working with Steve Rogers? Now that would be interesting.

(Y/N) was used to secrets around her all the time. She knew Sharon had her fair share, and trying to figure them out wouldn't really get her anywhere.

"Right. Okay. Well, I'll get on this then. Thanks, Agent Carter," she teased in late response to Sharon's 'Agent (Y/N).’

Sharon offered a quick smile before walking off to attend to other business.

- - -

Pain. That was all it was. In every sense of the word. As she strenously made her way through the densely packed file of one James Buchanan Barnes, pain was all she could see. All she could read. It leaked out of the page and seeped into her skin like poison.

It was horrific what they did to him. She knew he had his memory wiped, had someone pull him out and stick someone else in. But it was more than just that. They took his past, his memories, his thoughts; and they ripped them from his mind, leaving an empty space to mold into their own. It was after this when Hydra, in every way they could, dehumanized him, made him less than. He was striped of his freedom, his control, his choice, his humanity, of everything that made him him. They beat and bruised and broke it out this empty human shell until he was nothing but a shadow of faded morality and consciousness.

But hell, she couldn't look away. She was glued to the aftershock of this horrible wreckage. All the years of studying Psychology and Neuroscience couldn't have possibly prepared her for the absolute horror that was his past, his abuse, his torture. It was heinous. Frankly, she questioned how he was still alive. How he still had the will and the drive to be alive. How do you live after that?

"Fuck," she breathed after eons of silence.

She seemed to lose her sense of time whilst she was immersed in the harrowing nightmare of Hydra's cruelty. 'Cruelty' doesn't even come close to doing it justice. When she came to, her desk looked like a bomb went off. Papers were bursting out of manilla folders, littering the linoleum surface with classified files and secret information. She leaned back in her chair, and gave herself a minute to debrief.

(Y/N) almost felt guilty, like she things she looked at were so vile, so violating that she didn't have the right to see them. Sure, she had read and analyzed all sorts of trauma and psychological profiles. But he was different. Something about James Barnes was different. It tangled her mind the fact that a person could endure all that. She could only imagine the effect that would have on the human brain. The possibilities are endless. Suddenly bombing the UN didn't seem so far fetched.

- - -

"Jesus Christ," (Y/N) murmured, staring at her office floor as Sharon finished explaining to her what happened at the Leipzig Halle Airport.

She sat mostly in silence as she pondered over the information just fed to her. Apparently Tony Stark gathered a 'team' to try and intercept Captain America - sorry - Steve Rogers and his (supposed) fugitive friend. It was chaos.

"What is this? Fuckin' Avengers Fight Night?" she wondered aloud. "How many people did you say were there?"

"Twelve total," Sharon clarified. "Five with Stark and five with Steve."

The psychologist shook her head, dumbfounded. "How did it end?"

"Steve and Barnes got out, but everyone else with them were captured and sent to the Raft."

"The Raft?!" (Y/N) exclaimed. "That's for, like, super humans! Not people like Sam Wilson or Clint Barton!"

"You're telling me."

Sharon seemed in agreement with everything she was saying. However, there was something she couldn't quite place. Like she was holding back. But holding back what?

"So what of Rogers and Barnes?" (Y/N) pushed.

Sharon got up and closed the office door before returning to her seat, leaning in, and lowering her voice. This secretive woman, god damn it.

"Well... That's what I came to talk to you about."

Oh boy. She didn't have a semblance of a single idea of what to expect. Apparently Sharon noticed.

"We're the only ones that know this. They're fine..." the agent trailed off, "They're in Wakanda, but they need a little help."

"Are you leaving?!" (Y/N) all but yelled before quickly slapping a hand over her mouth and uncovering it only to whisper, "Do you and Rogers have a thing or something? Cause' I don't know how else you would know all of this when I'm sure that no one else does considering he's now an enemy of several governments!"

"My relations with Steve Rogers are not the focus here." She could've sworn Sharon flushed. "But we have been in contact; I'm one of the few people he can trust right now, and I don't plan on letting him down anytime soon."

They totally have a thing.

"Noted," said (Y/N) with a nod, "but why are you telling me this? Does he want the profile analysis or something? I don't see how he would need it if he's known Barnes for however long."

"Not exactly..." Sharon fidgeted with her hands. "We need you to go to Wakanda.”

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky angst #mcu #steve rogers #sharon carter #captain america #bucky reader insert #bucky drabble #bucky headcanon #bucky blurb

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thedarkenedkeeper · 7 years

Text

I had the most terrifying Anti-related dream last night

I feel so violated!! Ahh!! 😣😨😵 This...This was straight-up terrifying and not in a "I woke up screaming and crying" sort of way, but in just how fuckin' VIVID it was and how I literally was so confused as to what was going on that I became incredibly disturbed. This was like Inception - no joke, it was 6 dreams in one! I need to tell this, so strap in, guys! In the first "dream", I woke up in bed and for some reason thought it was 10am. However, it was still pitch black outside. I got up to leave my room to see if anyone was home. My parents weren't in bed, yet from what it sounded like, my brothers were down in the living room watching TV. I went to check the time and the clock read 1:09am. Suddenly I heard breathing coming from right behind me and before I could turn around, everything glitched and I "woke up". In the second "dream", I remember making my way towards the movie theater, except I was walking all the way there in bare feet, which caused them to get all scratched up and bloody. I also noticed how my clothes were torn, my wrists were shackled, my hands were bloodied, and I was wearing some sort of mask that was obscuring some of my view. I felt lightheaded and like I was being watched, so I turned only to see some guy in the distance following me. He had a button-up shirt and a pair of overalls on - both bloodied - and what looked like an actual horse's head over his own. He was dragging rocks behind him via chains wrapped around his wrists. It was quite cloudy and dark out, and I was getting quite creeped out so I tried to run, but I couldn't go any faster; if anything, I started moving slower! I even noticed how the guy was picking up the pace, even though the rocks he was dragging looked quite heavy. Right there is when I "woke up", but before I did, I could've sworn I saw the guy's body glitch. The third "dream" was short. I woke up freaking out and two of my friends were with me, except we were all out in the front of my garage. They tried to calm me down and ask what was wrong, and all I could do was tell them about the strange horse-head guy who was after me. Right as I said that, I suddenly heard someone say, "You mean how it was me?", and I jumped and spun around to see my crush smirking, like he was telling the truth and knew exactly what happened in my dream. His face glitched and I suddenly "woke up". "Waking up" to the fourth "dream", I bolt up gasping for air and feeling very on edge and shaken. At this point, it's almost like I'm self-aware about what's going on. I know that the last few times I've woken up now have been dreams, but I'm not at the point where I don't know what's real anymore. Two of my friends are there beside me, one of which is my crush, and as soon as I see him, I immediately move as far away from him as possible. Of course, he and my friend are both very confused and don't understand what's wrong. At this point, I realize we're all dressed fancy, we're all in a cottage of sorts, and everything has become like some fantasy story. I shrug off the uneasiness and tell them it's nothing - even though I'm lying through my teeth. They believe me and we decide to go out and explore. All is going well until later, when we find a run-down house surrounded by a bunch of old, abandoned things. Out of all of this, my eyes get drawn to a pile of VHS horror movies, all of which had oddly similar covers. This somehow triggers something in me; I get flashes of the dream I had and I start feeling lightheaded again. I notice how my breathing is quickening and my heart is beating so loud in my ears it's deafening. I can distantly make out my friend asking what's wrong, but all I do is take a few steps back and say, "We need to leave". I notice how my crush isn't speaking at all, and as I back up, I unexpectedly feel someone's arms wrap around me and pull me backward. Like the last few times, everything glitches before going black. The fifth "dream", which was the most nerve-wracking. For a moment, I'm standing in a living room. My vision is fading in and out so I'm struggling to make out any details, but I remember that it was dark, slightly warm, the floor was made of wood, and there were mirrors all along the walls, floor, and propped up against the walls. I suddenly hear a door creak open and then close from behind me, but I don't dare turn around. A bone-chilling giggle echoes throughout the room and almost immediately I feel my blood run ice cold. I'd know that giggle anywhere - it's Anti, it has to be. One second I feel something pointed running slowly down my back (it felt an awful lot like a knife), and the next, I'm being violently forced down to the floor onto my stomach. I go to move only to now feel someone crawling over top of me, and not in the sexual way either; this made me feel like I was the prey trapped by a predator that was about to go in for thd kill. I didn't move a muscle, nor said a single word. I felt his deep breathing right against my neck, and with no warning of any kind, he suddenly bites deep into where my shoulder meets my neck. I arch and try to scream only to have nothing come out. I weakly glance up to see myself in a nearby mirror - bloodied, weak, scared - but I can tell that that me isn't me. She suddenly started smirking and lifted a finger to her lips, signaling me to be quiet. I move my eyes upward and finally get a glimpse at my attacker. Sure enough, I was right: it's Anti. I can tell given how he looks exactly like Jack, except given how he's acting, how he's dressed in black, wearing his gauges, and his throat is slit, it DEFINITELY isn't Jack. I guess he heard me gasp or whimper because he suddenly stopped what he was doing, pulled away, and glanced over at the mirror I was looking into. I immediately tore my eyes away, only to feel him grab me by the hair and force me to look back at the mirror, raising his knife to my throat as he hissed to me, "Look at yourself". Suddenly, with no warning, I "woke up" to find myself in that exact same living room, except now it was daytime, it was bright in there, there weren't any mirrors, it was set up like an ordinary living room, and to my right was Jack (who I had apparently been playing a board game with), who was now looking at me both very confused and concerned. Of course, given the "dream" I had, I was still looking around the room, trying to figure out what had happened and if this was real or not. My behavior was really beginning to worry Jack, but after a moment, I convinced myself everything was alright, even though I was still very unsettled. This has got to be one of the most terrifyingly vivid dreams I've ever had. I genuinely got to a point when I didn't know what was real or not anymore, and that was scary. But the fucking realization that I was pretty much being watched in every one of those "dreams", only to then realize it was Anti....Jesus Christ, I'm still not okay. I genuinely feel really uncomfortable. I woke up scared, not even knowing if this was actually real time or not - I was half expecting to wake up 5 minutes later. Look, I know I say I love Anti and all, and though he scares me, I actually wouldn't mind a few dreams, but this?! HA! Oh my god, no! No! That was an emotional, hellish rollercoaster I don't want to go on ever again anytime soon!!! Yet again, good on you, Jack/Anti. Once again, you've managed to invade my dreams and haunt me! Thanks!!

#I'm so scared #i feel so violated #like omfg #i can't stop thinking bout it #it felt WAY too real #i need an adult #anti #antisepticeye #jacksepticeye #nightmares #dreams #vivid dreams #vivid nightmares #inception

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star-shuttle-scout · 7 years

Note

Prompt: Jonathan, Steve, and Nancy plan on going to the movies to see the newest thriller/horror movie, but when the night comes she has to cancel because she got grounded for failing a test. So jonathan and steve end up going together and it's the first time they really get to bond alone. Let's just say tensions build while theyre in the theatre, and they end up making out when they leave the movies....... I hope that made sense, You're way better at writing this stuff than I am :)

( Sorry this took so long, it’s been a crazy week with lots of school work… This is real cute! )

“She… cancelled?” Jonathan murmurs from his spot in the doorway, he had his keys in his hand and his jacket on. When he had answered the door he’d looked like an excited kid, smiling brightly, but it had soon faded at Steve’s words. He had come to deliver the news as Nancy herself couldn’t. A grounding for a failing test grade was the source of her absence, which was complete bullshit… Steve’s dad usually just called him a disappointment, slapped him upside the head and told him to get out of his sight.

“Yeah, man… She was real excited too,” He offers with a small frown, Jonathan looks down at his feet and Steve doesn’t think he’s ever looked more like a kicked puppy in that moment. It was part of his charm, really, what made Steve like him. He held a sort of innocence, something pure and naïve, and yet he was broken and jagged as well. He was in all senses, one of those mysterious but emotionally frail protagonists of a teenaged drama.

“Yeah, course…” Jonathan mumbles, glancing up at him with a small upturn of one side of his mouth, a pitiful attempt at a smile. “Well, thanks for telling me.” He shrugs one shoulder; Steve frowns as he starts to close the door.

“Whoa, wait a second, Byers!” He slams a hand onto the door to keep it from shutting; Jonathan looks at him in surprise. “Do you really hate me that much? We can’t go without Nancy?” He questions, Jonathan blinks at him and then his mouth drops open as he stammers a little.

“I didn’t think you’d want to go without her.” He offers awkwardly, Steve huffs and reaches out to tug Jonathan out the door. The boy almost trips, so Steve reaches out and places a hand on his chest to steady him.

“We’re seeing that movie, Byers.” He says confidently with a grin, Jonathan smiles ever so slightly and nods his head.

“Okay,” He agrees with a nod of his head, turning back and grabbing the doorknob. He pulls the door shut and locks it behind himself

They get a bucket of popcorn and two sodas, and Steve drags Jonathan all the way up to the top row of seats and they place themselves right in the middle. Jonathan usually sat near the front with Will and his buddies, but this had a nice vantage point. Steve hands Jonathan the popcorn and sets his drink in the cup holder before shedding his jacket and letting it slip down behind him without a care.

“I heard it’s so scary that someone had a heart attack in California in the theatre.” Steve tells him, Jonathan snorts and shakes his head. Yeah right. “What? Monsters exist but a movie can’t give a guy a heart attack?” He hisses in defense of himself, Jonathan smirks.

“I just don’t think it’ll be that scary.” He says simply, moving his arm a little when Steve reaches over and digs his hand into the popcorn to grab a handful. A few more people are walking into the theatre, the lights would dim soon.

“You’re not that scary.” Steve offers as a pitiful rebuttal, pouting as he chews his popcorn, Jonathan hides another smile behind his hand.

“Jesus Christ,” Blood sprays everywhere as Steve grabs ahold of Jonathan’s jacket sleeve, turning his head a little so he could only see the screen out of his peripheral vision. Jonathan watches in amazement as another dream sequence ends so gory and horrific that it could probably be considered art.

Freddy’s claws scratch along metal, Steve tucks his face against Jonathan’s shoulder and one hand comes up to cover his ears. Jonathan can’t help but cringe himself, okay yeah, this was definitely creepy. He lifts his arm out of the cramped position it’s in and settles it over Steve’s shoulders; the older boy takes it as an invitation to move closer. If it weren’t for the arm of the chair, Steve would most likely be in his lap right now.

“Hell, no.” Steve mumbles into his shoulder when a girl screams as she’s torn to shreds by Freddy’s claws, Jonathan smiles into the dark.

“That’s it, I’m never sleeping again.” Steve decides as they walk out of the theatre, he was holding his jacket in one hand and glancing around nervously at the dark and barren streets.

“Probably better if you don’t, Freddy might get you.” Jonathan taunts, Steve shoots him an irritated look and pushes at his shoulder.

“Shove off, Byers.” He mumbles, Jonathan smirks and tucks his thumbs into his pockets. They make their way across the street; Jonathan stands near the passenger side door while Steve searches his pockets for his keys. Something in a nearby alley crashes, both of the boys jump and Steve makes a little shriek of a noise.

“Get the keys out!” Jonathan hisses urgently, hand going to the door as the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“I’m looking!” Steve’s holding up his jacket now, searching through the pockets, Jonathan beats on the frame when he hears the jingle of keys. They jump in the car and lock the doors, and after a few seconds of accelerated heart beats and quiet panting, the boys look to one another.

There’s a moment of quiet, then Steve cracks a smile and Jonathan laughs.

“Talk about wimps, eh?” Steve chuckles as he starts the car up, Jonathan pulls his seatbelt on.

“Nobody can know as long as we keep it between us.” Jonathan jokes in reply; Steve nods his head and smirks. They’re both quiet as they lazily cruise the streets on the way home.

The rest of the drive home is quiet except for the radio playing quietly, something pop-related and gross that Jonathan disliked, but it was quiet so he could pretty much ignore it. When they pull into Jonathan’s driveway, Steve puts the car into park and Jonathan unbuckles his belt.“It was fun, yeah?” Jonathan breaks the silence as he turns his head, Steve smiles brightly at him.

“Definitely, we should hang out more.” He agrees quietly, and Jonathan can’t help but feel proud of himself. He wouldn’t have made friends with Steve without Nancy’s help, but he had put himself out there a bit and gotten just that much closer to another person. It felt good to have people in his life, people that cared about him.

“Do you normally hide your face in Nancy’s shoulder during scary movies or is it just me?” He mocks, as if the answer would decide whether or not he’d hang out with Steve on their own again. Steve shrugs with a small upturn of his lips, and when he turns his eyes to Jonathan, the younger boy feels his stomach fill with the stereotypical butterflies.

Shit.

“I gotta admit, although bony, it was comfortable.” He offers with a genuine smile, slightly joking, but sort of serious. Jonathan can’t help but smile back; he didn’t think he’d ever smiled so much in his life before. They just stare at one another for a bit, ghosts of smiles on their faces as they sit in quiet, then Jonathan realizes he’s being weird and turns his eyes away and clears his throat.

“I should probably-“

“I really wanna kiss you right now.” Jonathan blinks in surprise at his lap, and then slowly turns his eyes over to Steve, who’s got an arm propped on the steering wheel and a fist pressed to his cheek. He doesn’t seem to be joking, or panicking, just thoughtful.

“Kiss me?” He repeats breathlessly, Steve nods his head and drops his arm.

“It’s cool if you don’t want to, I just thought I’d throw that out there.” He shrugs; Jonathan does a spastic movement with his hands when all that comes out of his mouth is a sort of guttural ‘uh’ of a noise. “You okay?” Steve asks, slightly amused at Jonathan’s flailing.

“We can… I mean if you want…” He finally gets out, biting his lip anxiously and wanting to kick himself for throwing himself out there so hard. He was impulsive but not with people, not with his feelings, only when people he loved were on the line.

“Really?” Steve perks up a little, tilting his head to the side and his long hair drooping forward out from behind his ear. He looked like a puppy to a degree, and it made Jonathan only feel more confident about kissing him.

“Yeah.” He nods his head, and then Steve is leaning across the console slowly and pressing his lips to Jonathan’s. He’d never kissed anyone before, let alone a boy, but Steve places his hand on the back of Jonathan’s neck and doesn’t back down so he must not be doing awful.

Steve licks into his mouth and Jonathan’s hand grips tight onto the front of his shirt, the back of his head knocks against the window and Steve is practically hovering over him but Jonathan can’t find a complaint in him. He’d always been one for personal space, but if there was one thing he knew, it was that Steve’s presence no longer made him feel oppressed or humiliated like it used to. It made him feel safe and strong and every good little flip of his stomach and flutter of his heart were cherished.

They break apart for air, Steve keeps his face inches from Jonathan’s, staring into his eyes. Steve smiles a little, reaching up and smoothing a thumb along Jonathan’s cheek.

“You’re really cute.” He whispers, and Jonathan can feel his face getting hot from the intense stare of the boy.

“Y-You too.” He says very lamely, and Steve smiles and kisses him once more, less heated and gentler. Jonathan allows him to move back into his seat, releasing his shirt and leaving the fabric wrinkled in its place.

“Want me to walk you to the door?” He asks with a jerk of his head, Jonathan knows his blush is darkening by the delight in Steve’s eyes.

“What am I some helpless girl?” Jonathan stammers out teasingly, and Steve grins with amusement and shakes his head.

“I’m telling Nancy you called her helpless.” He murmurs, and Jonathan scoffs in offense. “I mean if you want to walk to your door by yourself and tempt Krueger.” He says with a smirk, Jonathan glances out at the dark night beyond and the trees towering into the sky behind his house.

“Maybe just this once,” He says begrudgingly, and Steve somehow manages to smile even bigger at him, blinding as always.

“Good, but you gotta watch me go back to my car because I refuse to be the first one dead in the horror movie.” He says with a point of his finger, Jonathan snorts and nods his head before they get out of the car. Steve walks him to the front porch, Jonathan unlocks the door.

“Thanks,” He nods to Steve, who glances about as if searching for anyone around, and then leans forward to kiss Jonathan on the cheek gently.

“I’ll see you around, Byers.” He promises with a squeeze to Jonathan’s shoulder. Jonathan watches him race back to his car, Steve waves at him before getting into the driver’s seat and Jonathan stands there as the car pulls out of the driveway. He smiles to himself as he steps inside, locking the door behind him and leaning against it.

What a night.

#stonathan #stranger things #jonathan byers #steve harrington #fic prompt

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