#give him a moment he jacks off in chapter two

[five-rivers]

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 15

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

.

“Only one left,” said Danny, uneasily.  Working by the process of elimination…  If any of the people on this list were his actual, biological parents, as Frostbite had feared, then it was these two.  

Jazz, obviously, wasn’t his mother.  He’d known that from basically the moment they’d met.  Vlad, Frostbite, and Pandora had confirmed that fact, and their stories had matched too well with each other for them to be lying.  Unless, of course, the whole trial was a lie and they were all working together, and Danny was hesitant to go down that path.  

The Observants, too, could be crossed off with ease.  The Observants were public and impersonal enough that Danny had remembered them despite his amnesia.  He’d never heard of them having children.  And their behavior during his trial… well.  Maybe they’d behave that way around their actual children, but Danny doubted it.  

Vlad hadn’t even claimed to be his father.  Of course, he’d also heavily implied that Danny’s biological parents were dead.  So there was that.  He was also a liar.  So there was that.  But, again, Danny didn’t think Vlad was his actual parent.  The Dairy King would have told him if he was.  

Frostbite and Pandora had also denied any blood relationship with him, although they still both wanted him to pick them.  Pandora did, at least.  Frostbite had seemed more lukewarm about it.  Maybe even cool, to use a pun.  Not that Frostbite disliked Danny.  He was participating in this to help Danny.  Just… Yeah.  

Then there was the trio, which, um.  Yeah.  Definitely not.  

So.  If his parents were actually involved, and not dead, then they had to be these two.  Unless Pandora or Frostbite or Vlad was lying about not being his parent, which he didn’t think any of them would do, because that would be counterproductive.  Wouldn’t it?

Double-think made his head hurt.  

“Yes,” said Clockwork.  “Only Jack and Maddie Fenton are left.  Then, when you have seen them, you must make your decision.”

“And I can choose anyone?”

“Yes.  You may choose anyone you wish to choose.”

“Hm,” said Danny.  He spread himself out over the couch and dropped the file folder on the coffee table.  “Anyone, anyone?”

“That is the policy, to ensure that children are placed appropriately.”

“So, like, if I decided I wanted to go with the Dairy King but not Vlad…?”

“That is a possibility,” said Clockwork.  “As in, you could choose for Dairy King alone to have custody of you, with the understanding that Vlad would likely still be a significant part of his social circle and afterlife.”

“Huh,” said Danny.  “What if I picked, like, Ember?”

“You could do that.”

“But you wouldn’t recommend it, huh?”

“My recommendation is immaterial,” said Clockwork.  “I am a neutral party.”

“Yeah, but I can still ask you questions.  What if I want your opinion?”

“I am not allowed to give it.”

“Right,” said Danny.  He looked over the file.  “You know, they have, like, the least stuff on their little cheat sheet out of anyone.  Except the Observants.  Theirs was really… lackluster.”

“Indeed?” said Clockwork, with just the faintest inflection at the end to turn it into a question instead of an agreement.

“Mhm.”  Jack and Maddie, no listed last name, didn’t have much written on their page of the file.  Apparently they liked making cookies, stargazing, needlepoint, sewing, and… that was it.  Nothing about jobs, titles, other interests, other things they enjoyed.  Nothing.

The stargazing was a good point, though.  Danny was pretty sure he liked stargazing.  If only he’d had a chance to do it…  Ugh.  Being stuck inside was getting more and more annoying.  

Distressing.  

Almost as distressing as Frostbite thinking that Danny’s biological parents were abusive.  

“You said before, everyone is, like, vetted?  So they won’t be… dangerous?”

“That is correct.”

“But the Observants still were allowed to do whatever it was they were trying to do.”

“Unfortunately, persons who possess authority will on occasion use that authority to put themselves in even more positions of authority.”

“Except you can’t tell me any of your opinions.”

“Correct,” said Clockwork.  

“You’re funny.”

“Not many would say that.”

“That’s because you’re really– really oblique about it.”

“Perhaps.”

Danny sighed.  “I should just go right away, shouldn’t I?  I should stop agonizing about this.”

“It is up to you, Daniel.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

Danny made no move to get off the couch.  “What are you doing over there, anyway?”

Clockwork twisted his hands around to show Danny a net of white string.  “I’ve taken up lacemaking.”

“Ugh, see, I’ve been wasting so much of your time that you’ve picked up a new hobby.  That’s crazy.”

“I wouldn’t say that it’s new,” said Clockwork.  “Lace has been around for a long time.”

“New to you, then.  Like, your original hobby is making clocks, right?”

“I also enjoy candlemaking and gardening.  But this,” Clockwork held up the lace, “was always within my plans.”

“Uh huh,” said Danny.  

“It is almost time for lunch.  You could stay until then.”

“See?  I’ve wasted the whole morning.  I came back last night.  And that was a day trip.”  He sighed.  “What would lunch be?”

“I was planning on fried rice, using the remaining rice from last night.”

“I thought you’d made a lot of rice that time,” said Danny.  “Yeah, let’s do that.”

.

Jack and Maddie’s house was… Well, it looked like it had been a normal house.  The entryway was done up with plain tile, and opened up into a high-ceilinged living room.  Danny could see a set of stairs leading up one side of the living room to the second floor, where there were a number of doors.  On the ground floor, there was an open doorway leading into a kitchen.  

That was all fine.  However, the walls, ceiling, and floors all looked like they’d been torn apart and put together again.  Sometimes with proper tools like plaster and drywall, and sometimes with cardboard and duct tape.  There were dark squares and ovals where picture frames may have hung.  He could see an electrical outlet that had been pulled out of the wall and hastily put back in, without all the wires fitting.  Near his elbow were the remains of what looked like a doorbell.  Bits of insulation hung out of gaps between the original walls and the repairs.  

It wasn’t quite as strange or as messy overall as Ember, Skulker, and Technus’s place, but the contrast was… weird.  Everyone else was obviously trying to put their best foot forward and had cleaned up or acquired a whole new house.  This… this was not that.  

At least, he hoped it wasn’t.  Because if this was their best, then what was their usual?

He turned his attention to the two humans who had been waiting for him to arrive.  They were human.  The man was tall and broad, with dark hair.  He was wearing overalls over an orange button up.  His sleeves were rolled up, and he was scratching at a rash on his arm.  The woman was slim and much shorter, her auburn hair cut in a chin-length bob.  She had a pale blue blouse on, and dark jeans.  

He caught their eyes, one after another.  

“Hi,” said the woman, in a wavering voice.  “Welcome home, Danny.”

“Um,” said Danny, “hi.  Are you Maddie?  The file didn’t really say which one of you was which… or really anything about yourselves…?”

“Yes,” said Maddie, with a painful smile.  She looked like she was about to cry.  “I’m Maddie, this is Jack.  We’re so happy to have you here.  So happy.”  She took his hands in hers and squeezed them.  

“Okay?”  He looked around.  “So…  You’re remodeling?”

“Yes,” said Maddie.  “We’re sorry about that, but all of this came as such a surprise.”

“A big surprise, son,” said Jack.  His voice sounded rough, like he’d been crying.  “All of the important things are done, though!  Everything’s safe!  Just not very pretty, that’s all.  Just looks different.”

“Like you,” said Maddie, quickly.  “Not that that’s a bad thing, is it?  We’re very–  The ears and the tail– Those are new but not bad.  This is just like that.”

Danny nodded, hesitantly.  “Right.  That’s cool.  So, um.”  He looked around the entryway again.  “Show me around?”

“Right, right,” said Maddie.  “Of course.”

“Sorry about that!” said Jack.  “It’s just that you grew up here and all.  You don’t remember that, but it’s hard for us to remember it.  To remember that you, er, don’t remember.”  Jack patted Danny’s shoulder gingerly.

“Yes,” said Maddie.  “We’ll– We’ll do the main floor first, then the bedrooms upstairs.”

The tour of the ground floor went much as expected.  He saw the living room, a number of closets (which looked like they’d been ransacked), the garage (suspiciously empty), a bathroom (strangely untouched), a dining room (dusty), and the kitchen.  

His initial impression of the kitchen matched his impression of the house in general.  Normal, but hastily altered.  There was a long strip of torn-up wall near the refrigerator.  The microwave was brand new to the point that the box it came in was still sitting next to it.  There was a door-sized patch of new wall that matched up with scratches on the floor that strongly suggested the patch had been a door up until fairly recently.  

This… this was suspicious.  Should he ask about it?  Play dumb?

“Now, up to the rooms!” said Jack, sweeping Danny out of the kitchen.  

“Usually,” said Maddie, “your sister Jazz would be here, but right now she’s away, so it’s just the three of us.”

“Why?”

“Why what, Danno?” asked Jack.  

“Why is she away?”

“College,” said Maddie, quickly.  “She’s a couple years older than you are, so she’s away at college.  The two of you were very close, though.”

“Best friends!” shouted Jack from his position at the top of the stairs.

Well, there was that confirmation.  Jazz was definitely his sister.  

… Jazz actually looked a lot like Maddie, so that was also a point in favor of Maddie and Jack being his actual parents.  Which, uh.  Did being shady run in the family?  Did he come off like this to other people?  He hoped not.  

“Which one was her room?” asked Danny.  

“This one,” said Jack.  Then he pointed towards a room two doors down.  “And this is yours!  You two shared the bathroom, but she’s not here, so it’s all yours, too!”

“Cool,” said Danny.  He slipped past Jack to the door and opened it.  

The walls and ceiling of the room were a pale blue gray, glow in the dark stars just barely visible in contrast.  Posters for bands and spaceships were taped to the wall, some of them in better repair than others.  There was a dresser with a drawer sticking part way out, the sleeve of a shirt stopping it from fully closing.  Model rockets, most of them clumsily made, sat on shelves beside other knick-knacks.  A corkboard on the wall had schoolwork, ribbons, and a few crumpled tickets to movies and concerts pinned on it.  A scooter and telescope were propped up in one corner.  

“They had us take down your photographs,” said Maddie.  “But we left everything else the way it was.  Except for cleaning.”

“Something about being biased!  As if knowing things is going to make you biased!  Maybe if we’d known–”

“Jack, honey,” said Maddie.  “Not the time.”

“Oh, right, sorry, son.”

Danny nodded, then stepped in to walk a circuit of the room.  This room, more than any of the others he had stayed in, felt lived in.  Like it was a home.  

But he couldn’t forget Frostbite’s warning.  Or the chaos downstairs.  

“So, um,” said Danny, before he could wimp out.  He held the pocketwatch in one hand.  Just in case.  “In the kitchen, you have a door covered up.  What’s with that?”

“Uh, nothing,” said Jack.  

“Just an unfinished basement,” said Maddie, her smile going brittle and fake.  “That’s all.  It wasn’t– It wasn’t safe down there.  For children.  It wasn’t built right.  So we decided to just cover it up.  To show that we’re prepared to keep you safe.”

There was a mad science lab down there, wasn’t there?  

What if that was where he had died?

Danny swallowed and pasted on a smile.  “Cool.  So… what do we do together?”

They stared blankly at him.  

“You know, for fun?  Or hanging out?”

“We used to stargaze together a lot,” said Maddie.  

“And we’d go fishing!” boomed Jack.  

“Yeah, but we can’t really do either of those, right?  We’re stuck inside.”

“That’s true…  But we do have our movies, don’t we?  And some games.”

“Righto!” said Jack.  “I’ll go get the stuff!”

.

The movie they had finally settled on was a space documentary.  Watching it was nice, even if the popcorn was a little burnt.  

Watching Jack and Maddie try to cook dinner afterward, though…  They seemed to keep reaching for things that weren’t there, or bumping into each other, like they expected there to be more room, or, well.  The food looked presentable enough, but there was a mess.  A big one.  

Still, the macaroni and cheese looked and smelled fine.  

“One of your favorites!” said Jack, proudly.  “After this, we’ll have some fudge!”  He served Danny a scoop bigger than his head, then took a big ceramic mug from the cabinet and filled it with soda.

Danny mentally shrugged and picked up his fork.  If he couldn’t eat it, he couldn’t eat it.  

“So,” he said, after eating a few bites, “how did the whole ghost thing happen?”

“Pardon?” asked Maddie, looking a little pale.  

“Well, my situation is a bit weird, isn’t it?  I was just wondering if you knew how it happened.”

“No,” said Maddie.  “I’m afraid not.  It’s a mystery to us, too.  Like we said, we were surprised by all of… this.”

That was weird.  If Jazz knew, shouldn’t they know, too?

Or maybe they just didn’t want to tell him.  

He fiddled idly with the mug.  There were clumsy, childish stars and moons painted on its side.  

“Do you like it?” asked Maddie.  “You painted that.  We went to one of those pottery places for Jazz’s seventh birthday.  You were both so young back then…”

“I did?” asked Danny. 

“You did,” said Maddie.  “If you look at the bottom, you’ll see your initials.”

Danny held the cup up over his head and looked at the bottom.  The letters DJF were painted on the bottom.  

“What do the J and F stand for?”

“James Fenton,” said Maddie.  “James was Jack’s father’s name.”

“And Fenton?”

“Our name.  Our family name.”

“Huh,” said Danny.  He set the mug back down, but kept his fingers looped around the handle of the mug.  It was… grounding, somehow, to touch something from his childhood, from his past.  “Do you know why this, um, trial was started?”  He took another bite of the macaroni and cheese so he had something to do with his other hand.  

“No,” said Maddie, quickly.  

“Maddie…”

“We don’t.”

Alright, then.

It was suddenly very hard to swallow.  

“We don’t know.  We don’t know why any of this happened.  But we’re so glad you’re with us again.  We’re so glad this is almost over.”

“I know!” shouted Jack, suddenly, making Danny, already tense, jerk sideways in alarm.  “When this is over, we can go back to that place and make another–”

Danny had still been holding the mug, and when he flinched, he took the mug with him.  He fumbled it briefly before it hit the ground, interrupting whatever Jack was saying and plashing soda everywhere.  

“Oops,” said Danny, stricken.  “Sorry.  I’m really sorry, um.”  He had telekinesis.  Why couldn’t he just–  

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” said Jack, kneeling and picking up the pieces.  

“I can do that,” said Danny.  “You don’t have to–”

“No, no, I’ve got it,” said Jack.  “We’ll just put it right back together!  A little superglue and it’ll be as right as rain.”

“I’ve got the mop.  You just stay there and eat, okay, Danny?”

That was, like, the exact opposite of what he wanted to do.  He wanted to do something to help, but something about the situation held him paralyzed.

“Yeah!” said Jack, rinsing the shards in the kitchen sink.  “We just need some glue, then we’ll put it right!”

“Make sure it dries first,” said Maddie, maneuvering a large mop.  

“Oh, right!”

He put the pieces on a dishtowel and began to pat them off.  Danny, slowly, reluctantly, began to eat again.  

“What were you saying before, Jack?”

“Oh, I was thinking that we could go back to that pottery place after all this.  Make a few new pieces.  It looks like we’ll need it, huh?  What do you think, Danny?”

“Um, it sound like it could be fun?”

“Then it’s a plan!  We’ll have to rope Jazz in, too, when she’s back in town!”

Speaking of Jazz…  Danny had to wonder why she was competing separately from these two.  She definitely wasn’t at college, after all.  Was it because of what Frostbite had said?  Or some other rule of the trial that Clockwork hadn’t mentioned?  Or just a strategy to give the family two chances?

He had no idea how to ask those questions.  

But then… maybe there was something in Jazz’s room?  Or even in his room.

“Want to help me put this back together?” asked Jack.  “I’ve got to go find my tools, so if you could just arrange them…”

“You both need to eat first,” said Maddie, “before our food gets cold.”

“Right you are, Maddie!”

Danny had, somehow, lost most of his appetite, but he ate anyway, knowing that if he didn’t he’d be hungry later.  When he estimated he’d eaten enough, he pushed aside his plate and went over to the shards of the mug.

It had broken unevenly, which meant that it would be easier to figure out what went where.  He started sorting the pieces, and as he did so, he felt himself start to calm down again.  

Jack ruffled his hair when he was about halfway through, making Danny freeze, his ears canting backwards.  

“I’ve got the super glue!” he said before sitting back down at the table.  

They worked together to put the mug back together after that, stars reemerging from scattered shards.  It was… peaceful.  Sort of like watching Clockwork work in his workroom.  Eventually, the mug was, more or less, together, although the cracks were still very visible.

“There we go!  Just like a puzzle, huh?  How’d you like working with your old man again?”

“It was good,” said Danny.  

“Yeah, it was good,” said Jack, beaming.  “Maybe I’ll show you how to h–  Ahem.  I’ll show you how to knit next!  I do love knitting.  And needlepoint.  Fiber art is great, Danny.  Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“That sounds nice,” said Danny, smiling.  Then he yawned.  

“Oh, wow, you’ve got some fangs in there!  That’s new.”  He cleared his throat.  “It’s getting pretty late, though, isn’t it?  You should get into bed.  You’ve had a long day!”

Danny wasn’t sure how long the day had been, but he was tired.  “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“We have your toothbrush and everything up in your bathroom,” said Maddie.

“Thanks,” said Danny.  “I’ll go up, then?”

“Wait!” shouted Jack, making Danny jump again.  “The fudge!  Can’t go to bed without fudge!”

“I’m actually pretty full…”

“Nonsense!  There’s always room for fudge.”

So, they ate fudge, and then Danny went upstairs to the bathroom.  

As promised, there was a toothbrush, floss, and a hairbrush already set out.  There was a cabinet set into the mirror, and another under the sink.  

He hesitated for a moment before opening the one over the sink.  There was a bottle of aspirin and a few boxes of bandaids, but it was otherwise empty. Next, he looked under the sink.  Mostly, there were cleaning supplies.  But there was also a large first aid box.  It had a bright green stain on one corner.  

Danny sucked in his lips, then pulled it out and started to look through it as he sat on the closed lid of the toilet.  It looked like it had been used frequently.  Most of the refillables were mostly empty.  

What had happened that he’d used so much of this?  Because it had to be him.  No one else living here would have left an ectoplasm stain on the lid.  

Frostbite’s claim was looking more and more plausible the more he learned.  

He closed the lid and put the box away.  He was going to give the Fentons the benefit of the doubt until he got actual evidence one way or another.  Frostbite had said that he’d never actually met them.  So.  

Jazz’s room.  While he was still mostly awake.  It was getting late.  

He walked through the wall into the room next door.  Jazz’s room was… less empty than he would have expected, given that she had her own house.  But it looked like someone had moved out of the room in an awful hurry.  More of the drawers in the dresser were opened than closed, clothing was strewn over the bed, the chair had been knocked over, the desktop computer tower had been opened up and the hard drive removed.  

Danny searched the room, but didn’t find anything but a note in Jazz’s handwriting, something about reminding him of a school assignment.  Everything else was just… clothing, books, his sister’s knick-knacks.  Nothing important.  

Defeated, he went back to his room, curled up in his bed, and went to sleep under the fake stars.  

.

Danny was going to give the Fentons a week, just like he’d given everyone else, unless they did something really unbelievable or dangerous, like the Observants, or forgot to feed him or something.  He’d already decided that, and he’d stick to it, even if they were being sketchy.  

So, he stuck with Maddie’s frantic baking, and Jack interrupting himself whenever he, apparently accidentally, mentioned engineering or science.  He let it go when they dodged his questions about what they did for a living.  He knitted with Jack, and watched documentaries and movies, and helped Maddie make lunch and breakfast, and slowly started working through the comics he’d found in his room.  He listened to Jack as he monologued about this and that and letting the broken mug ‘set.’  He helped with the ‘remodel’ as much as he could, and looked for clues about what, exactly, Jack and Maddie had removed.  

He also searched his own room, but the Observants, or whoever had prepared the trial, had been very thorough when making sure there was no direct physical evidence of Danny having ever lived here.  Not only were there no pictures, the schoolwork on the walls was old enough that Danny couldn’t say if the handwriting really was his, and it wasn’t like he’d found a journal or anything anywhere.  There was just a feeling.  

What he didn’t do, though, was look through the walled-off door in the kitchen.  

If there was a mad science lab anywhere, it was there.  And if a mad science lab was here, it was probably where he had died.  He…  Didn’t really want to see that.  He wasn’t sure he could see that and stay… reasonable… with Jack and Maddie.  

But… he had to know.  

So, just the day before he’d ‘scheduled’ himself to leave, he stood in front of that patch of wall and stepped through.  

It was predictably dark.  But Danny had both good night vision and the ability to create balls of light, so he called one up.  

The basement wasn’t unfinished.  It was, in fact, a mad science lab.  

He hated being right.  

It wasn’t just a mad science lab, though.  It was a half destroyed mad science lab.  Shelves had been knocked over, machines had been partially disassembled.  One area in particular looked as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it and then dumped ectoplasm and something gross and brown on it.  He couldn’t even tell what some of that stuff was.

And then there was the inactive portal.  

Danny floated towards it, despite remembering Vlad’s warning about his portal.  It looked almost exactly the same.  Maybe a little less shiny, but still…

He yanked himself away from it, not liking how it seemed to grab his attention, and floated over to where filing cabinets had spilled over.  He grabbed a piece of paper at random and read it.  Then he read it again.  Finally, he dropped it back onto the pile.  

Jack and Maddie made their money inventing weapons.  Good to know.  

He floated over to the particularly wrecked area.  Was this the result of a weapons test?  That would make sense… sort of… so much of this was just meaningless without context, and he couldn’t get context.

There were papers here, too, in a binder half embedded in one wall.  Danny pulled it free easily and started to read it.  

When he realized what he was reading, he almost dropped the binder.  This was–  But it had to be for an animal, a dangerous animal they were hunting, or–  There were animal ghosts.  Frostbite even had the skins and furs of a few.  

Danny’s hands were shaking.  He wasn’t sweating.  Ghost form was good for more than his looks.  But he was shaking.  And his tail had fluffed out to its fullest extent.  

His eyes wandered down the pages, shying away from the worse things, until, finally, he reached a name.  

It was his.  

Phantom.  

He turned to the last page, skipping most of the binder, and read–

This time, he did drop the binder, and he gagged, too.  No.  No, that didn’t happen to him.  He flew backwards, over the bloody mess that had–  He ran into one of the walls, and an alarm started up, a broken thing, clearly not working quite right.  

Danny fled up the stairs, through the shut, metallic door, through the hasty drywall and into the kitchen.  The kitchen, where the alarm was also blaring, and Jack and Maddie were walking through the door in matching bathrobes.  

“Were– Were you in the lab?” asked Jack, uncertainly.  

“You,” said Danny, struggling to get the words out.  “You–”

“Are you hurt?” asked Maddie, reaching for him.  “Do you–”

“No!” shouted Danny.  “Don’t touch me!  Don’t come near me!”

She backed off, immediately, raising her hands so he could see them.  He hated that it did make him feel better.  

“Danny,” she said.  “Danny, I don’t know what you saw–”

“I saw what you did.  You hunted me down like– like an animal.  You tried to– to–” Danny sagged against the counter, one hand clutching the pocketwatch.  He should just hit the button.  He should hit the button now.  But part of him needed to know why.  

“It was a mistake,” said Jack.  

“A mistake?  You didn’t do that by mistake.  You can’t just trip and then do that.  There’s planning there, and preparation–”

“No, no,” said Maddie, “not–  We didn’t know it was you.  You didn’t look like yourself–”

“I don’t look like myself now, are you going to do it again?”

“No,” said both Jack and Maddie, vehemently.

“But you would’ve done it to someone else, is that it?”

“That’s,” said Jack.  “Not anymore.  Not anymore, son.  We’ve made mistakes.  We were wrong about so, so many things, but we’re trying.  We’re trying, and we never wanted to do anything that would hurt you.”

“We’re trying to make amends,” said Maddie.

“By hiding this?” demanded Danny.  “By pretending you didn’t do it?”

“Only because this is our only chance,” she said.  “It’s our only chance, and you didn’t even remember.  What good would apologizing have done?”

“More good than this.  Why did you even do it?”

“We’re scientists,” said Maddie.  

“We just wanted to know how ghosts work,” said Jack.  “But we’ve sworn all of it off, forever.  We even took out the anti-ghost security system!  We don’t want to have anything to do with something that hurt you.”

“You hurt me.”

“Please, Danny, you have every right to be angry with us,” said Maddie, “but give this family a chance.  We know it’s our fault that things turned out the way they did, but…  We’re sorry.  We’re sorry, and we love you, and we want to fix this, and doesn’t that count for something?”

“We want to be a family again,” said Jack, openly crying.  “We want to show you what that’s like.  What it would be like, now that we know.  You are our family, Danny.”

“Family,” repeated Danny, suddenly feeling cold, as if all the ice in his core had built to an unbearable level.  

He turned around, towards the counter, eyes flicking back and forth until he found what he was looking for.

Danny picked the repaired mug up off the kitchen counter.  “This cup,” he said.  “It’s like this cup.”

“What do you mean?” asked Jack.  

“Please,” said Maddie.  “We know that what we did was wrong, and we want to– We just wanted to move past it.  We want to be a family again, Danny.  We always just wanted you to be safe.”

Danny shook his head and turned the sink on.  He put the cup under it and filled it with water.  That done, he turned off the sink and he set the cup on the counter.  It leaked, horribly.  Some of the cracks leaked slowly, seeping water.  Some, near the bottom, spurted.  

“It’s still a cup,” said Danny.  “But you can’t really use it like one anymore, can you?  It’s not– It’s probably not even safe to use anymore, is it?  With the glue, and the cracks.”

“But it’s still something you made,” said Jack.  “It’s still something important, isn’t it?  It’s worth saving, for the memories.”

“Maybe,” said Danny.  “But you still can’t use it to drink.  You, um.  You have to get another cup.”  He wiped tears from his eyes.  “You can remember it, and it can be good to remember it, but it won’t work anymore.  It can’t be fixed.”

He turned back to them.  

“Please, Danny,” said Jack.  “Don’t go.  We love you.”

Danny gave them a tiny, pained smile, then said, “Goodbye.”

#danny phantom #phic #phic phight

[delicrieux]

—𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭, ch.1: things of present and future importance

pairing—carmy berzatto x f!reader genre—drama, romance, age gap, boss/employee relationship warnings for this chapter—trauma, anxiety, swearing, and sum depression as dessert word count—2k

uh-oh, carmen is losing it again, this time in front of his new employee, too. 

author’s note: give me this wet dog of a man and give him to me NOWWWWWWWW

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | read on ao3 . next >

important! some of the dialogue scenes are written as a script & dialogues that overlap are marked in [] <3

there’s a lot of things wrong with this situation, but carmen does not have it in him to care. maybe he never will, and that’s okay, because it’s his fucking restaurant and he knows he could be kinder, could be gentler, could, maybe, keep all of those splinters in his gut from hurting too bad if he took a few deep breaths just how they say in therapy. deep breaths, slow breaths, and then they look at you like you’re a toddler having a meltdown in the middle of the street and suddenly, suddenly, it’s all go fuck yourself and the door slamming shut.

carmen’s an abandoned puppy – disheveled hair and round eyes that have been unloved (by him, most of all), with his head bent and shoulders tense, not sure whether to flee or attack, but offense is the best defense and just like a bad dog he bites when frightened. it’s all teeth and anger and desperation; jaws lock and teeth sink and he doesn’t let go because he’s starving, even if what he’s fighting for is nothing but a cadaver of a place, space, body – brother? no, don’t think of mikey. he’s starving, has been for ages – approval? don’t say that – and that hunger bubbles to the surface when confronted by a minuscule imperfection, like sauce on the stove left to simmer for too long.

it’s a bad first impression, second impression, third, what the fuck, he’s good at food and not very good at math, unless math comes to food and then, maybe, he can sort it out. still bad, still fucking terrible, to be honest, and somewhere in the frying tangles of his mind he knows that yelling doesn’t help, and that yelling in front of the new hire doesn’t bode well for retention. the last enzymes of his sanity warn him – calm down, just, just calm down, carmen, you’re making it worse, you’re making it fucking worse – but the to-go machine keeps beeping, and the kitchen is too hot, and his staff is too anxious, and everything is amplified tenfold by his brother’s looming shadow that exists to him only. don’t think of mikey.

“can someone please turn that fucking thing off?” it’s his voice, laced by such scorn and a barely contained anger that makes him tremble by the pans. he’s losing his mind. sweat collects on his temple and his eyes sting from the fumes billowing onto his face, “sydney!”

“yes, chef.”

sydney’s a trooper, doesn’t bend under pressure like steel, and he sees her maneuvering in his peripherals, quick and agile to not get into anyone’s way, least of all his. briefly, he thinks about burning this place down. he blinks. the beeping stops – she ripped the cord out of the socked, dropped it onto the floor that sent an echo.

the new hire watches this shitshow unfold by her station, eyes wide and weary, ears perked for orders. her hands move – strong hands, swift hands, long fingers and rough palms that cradle a knife the way a mother would cradle a child. she doesn’t look at what she cuts, but she chops and slices and it’s all automatic – trained response? – and if carmen were to take a ruler and inspect the pieces, he’d be impressed to find that most are even and none are crooked. he’d hum, then, skim through the folders of his mind to re-check her experience, re-check the college she went to. he’d say something like, “good work, chef,” and maybe she’d smile at the bare bones of the compliment he’d given her, and when he’d be alone in his dingy office he’d pull out her resume and examine it with more interest because he’d be too embarrassed to ask.

he’ll grow familiar with those hands, with the dips and curves of knuckles and the tiger stripes of scars running down their expanse; he’ll grow familiar with the touch, too, soft despite the callouses, but only to him. not yet, though, not for another few months till a completely expected storm will halt the trains and he’ll have to drive her home. it’ll be weeks after that awkward silence in the car and stolen glances at soaked t-shirt-clad skin.

her form is unfamiliar to him – he hadn’t any interest to look, nor would he find anything curious when all is covered in oversized fabric and a blue apron. at present, she’s his colleague, nothing more, and a young one at that, too young and too talented to be stuck in such a place and with him running it.

but he will look. sooner than expected, and not for any devout reason, unless loneliness can be considered holy.

he’ll feel bad about it, too, and he’ll feel worse when everything escalates, because it always does.

for now, he cooks by the open flame, letting hot oil sizzle on his hands and the fire lick his fingers, and maybe, just maybe, he likes the pain because he knows nothing else. it’s become empirical to him. an indication that he’s still alive. that he’s still in control of something, even if he isn’t.

richie, richie, good fucking god, richie always picks the worst moments to bitch about.

“are you fucking with me?” carmen’s voice, again, a bit higher this time and just a gruff. doe eyes narrow at the bell-tower named richard jerimovich that has the audacity to look clueless, “do not fucking fuck with me right now.”

richie: shove that stick outta [fuck you] your ass, cousin carmen: are you deaf? richie: boutta go deaf if you keep yapping [don’t got time for this]; listen, i just [you just?] came to talk [talk? now? talk?] yes, to talk, look carmen: now you wanna talk? now? you wanna [jesus] fucking talk right now?

the tension in the air is sharp enough to slice through skin. everyone pointedly pretends not to hear this conversation. carmen doesn’t want to hear this conversation, either. there’s a line of people waiting. he reminds richie of that, and richie reminds that oh, he knows, and –

“richie!” it’s sydney, cheeks glowing with sweat and bandana crooked, “not now.”

richie huffs, looks at carmen with a certain exasperation, a wordless question of ‘really? really? you’re letting her run the show, now?’, and carmen needn’t be a genius to know that richie’s gonna bring this up later. he’ll never hear the end of it, he scarcely does now. it’s a headache in the making. his heart skips, or maybe stops, and for a moment he feels white-hot panic shoot through his veins. it passes with a shiver he doesn’t show. he breathes just a tad quicker – not enough air, not enough fucking air, jesus.

richie retreats with his arms raised in surrender, amused and annoyed simultaneously. a quiet follows his departure, and carmen looks at the staff, gaze jumping from one to the other before settling on her. she’s unperturbed by the chaos, working, watching, assessing, and later he’ll learn she wears that face the same way he wears his anger – as armor.

eyes meet and there’s a certain understanding that glimmers in the depths of her iris. but what could she understand? three weeks from now, he’ll come to learn that she’s used to rough edges and loud voices: he’ll learn that she’s the daughter of the chef that made his life hell back in new york, he’ll learn that she took up cooking because she wanted to appease her father, he’ll learn that her parents have split and her mother is sick and that she’s not calm but disconnected and that she tends to live in her head just like him.

but he doesn’t know that now, so he blames the shitty lighting that blinks and buzzes and, “fak, for the love of fucking god, please fix it.”

he said please this time, and it means he’s cooling off. he thankfully misses the quick look the staff shares – a mixture of relief and pity. either would have been devastating to recognize.

the only upside is that the day goes by fast. too much to do, too much to stress about, and carmen’s used to running on nothing but nicotine and adrenaline and an odd spout of desolation, and he manages everything, keeps the pieces glued together until eventually everything becomes too much and then he crumbles. still picks them up gently, like handling broken glass. he visits the storage often. closes the door for a moment and just lets himself breathe, reminds himself how to. doesn’t calm, only collects, reigns in the anger that coats loneliness. don’t think about mikey.

the staff cleans in a similar silence that douses after a storm.

the night's clear, crisp air compounded with cigarette smoke. he leans on the wall of the restaurant, staring into space, listening to the white noise of a restless city. by now, sydney has flipped the CLOSED sign; by now, his new hire is probably thinking about quitting, elbows deep in cleaning detergent as she scrubs the floor. he’ll have to go over her work and double-check. just in case there’s something more to do for hands that are always restless.

he tries to think but his head is scrambled. too many thoughts rushing in and out, loud, obnoxious, too quick to leave a lasting impact. he’s tired. he’s always tired. he wants lay on his bed and let sleep swallow him whole, but he knows that won’t happen. if he sleeps, he dreams of new york, he dreams of fire, he dreams of voices coming from the other room. one, in particular, holds a familiar rasp and drawl, punctuated by laugher, weaving a tale and stop it, don’t think about it anymore, just stop it, don’t think about –

he tosses the cigarette, watching the embers burn.

don’t think about mikey.

he enters through the back exit, stalks through the restaurant like he's haunting the place. briefly stops to stare at the mirror behind the bar. doesn't really recognize the man staring back.

the clock reads 00:30 am.

marcus was the last to leave, or so carmen assumed by the silence that shrouds the place, but as he makes his way to his office, he hears a locker shutting, and the sound rattles him so much his heart beats in his throat. all of that previous exhaustion ignites into anxiety that makes his limbs lock up.

she halts by the mouth of the kitchen, hair matted from sweat and lower lip marked where her teeth sunk, drooped eyes widening a fraction as she regards him. he can only stare at her in return, at her messy hair and pinched eyebrows and the slight downward curl of her lips.

“you could use a coffee,” she utters, and her voice is jarring – not for any unpleasant reason, but for the fact that he didn’t expect to hear it. he’ll grow to like it, crave it, even, because it’s a lovely cadence and it’ll sound even lovelier when she says his name.

he’s frightened by it now, if one can be scared of such a thing. so he bites.

“it’s almost 1 am.”

“right,” she mutters dryly.

“why are you still here?” he questions, and it almost sounds like an accusation, because he thought he was alone, only to suddenly be proved wrong. feels like an invasion of privacy, to be fucking honest, “your shift ended like an hour ago.”

“oh, I, uh, had some things to finish, so…” she trails off, but she still looks at him, and it’s unnerving, really, how she doesn’t budge under the weight of his stare. he bends under hers, though; the floor is spotless, he has nothing left to do. he misses the visible tension in her face, misses the quick swipe of her tongue on her lower lip as she opens and closes her mouth. it’ll take two whole weeks to grow entranced by the sight. misses the polite smile, too, but hears it in her voice anyway, “night.”

her sneakers squeak and echo and the door shuts. silence settles heavy on his shoulders. he’s not sure if he’s more distraught by her sudden appearance or abrupt departure. both somehow feel bad. in less than half a year, he’ll come to realize that the latter is worse.

ch.2: thank you, love you

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #the bear imagine #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader #give him a moment he jacks off in chapter two #hes so pathetic i love him

[ssahotchnerr]

Can I request a fic based on these thought ❤️Aaron would 100% be the kind of dad that would spend all night building a barbie house or dolls house and would also very willingly sit and play barbie’s with his daughters.

well worth it

YOU'RE SO RIGHT THAT'S TOO CUTE cw; girl dad!aaron, bau!fem!reader, fluff <3

growing impatient and nearly beginning to doze off without him, you exited your bedroom in search of aaron. you've waited all day to be cozied up with him, and you simply couldn't wait any longer.

you've been comfortably waiting for over an hour; having gone through your full night routine, getting into bed, reading a few chapters of your current read. aaron even came in to change into his pajamas at one point, but trailed out again.

"hey you," you peeked your head into the living room, finding aaron laying stomach-down on the plush carpet. "you coming to bed? it's getting late."

"in a minute." aaron mumbled gently in response, his voice vaguely muffled into whatever it was he had in front of him. "as soon as i finish up here."

you ventured further into the room in curiosity, the closer proximity allowing you to see your daughter's new dollhouse set before him.

your nose crinkled lightly in amusement, a small smile forming on your face. and as if aaron could sense it - he peered up at you, a matching smile on his own lips as he saw your tickled expression, his brown eyes aglow.

"i promised i would have it ready in the morning." aaron admitted with a soft chuckle as he sat up, you scrambling down on the carpet to join him. "it's done, there's just so many damn stickers that have to be in certain spots." he grabbed the instruction pamphlet, studying it for a moment. "wallpaper for every room, that was a pain. things like a bath rug for the bathroom. even some go on the furniture - they're tiny, tiny stickers..."

as he trailed on and on, listing all the details, you fell quiet the more you followed along to his words, your eyes analyzing his face in slight astonishment.

"what?" aaron laughed breathlessly again, his eyebrows furrowing quizzically as he tossed the pamphlet aside, the paper creating a fluttering sound as it fell. he grasped onto the sticker sheet once more, his lips drawing into a frustrated line as he struggled to peel one off - his large hands all to blame.

"it still surprises me out of nowhere sometimes, despite how much time has passed." you shook your head slightly in content, swiping the sheet from his hands. you easily removed the sticker, handing it to him. "you're listing off the necessities for a dollhouse. for our daughter. there was a time where the most i heard you talk was while giving a profile, and just, here we are now. i dunno, does that make sense?"

"completely." aaron agreed as his smile retook form on his face, placing the sticker where it belonged. "happens to me every day. how lucky i am to have you. never thought i'd be dad to another, yet alone a girl dad at that."

"it suits you." you grinned, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "want some help? anything to get you to bed sooner."

aaron looked at the instructions again, a soft hum leaving his mouth as he thought. "again, it's pretty much finished foundation wise. but if you wanna start setting the furniture inside, be my guest darling."

side by side, the two of you worked together, rather giddily at that. quiet quips, playful comments how your own home could use these and whatnot (aaron groaned at your suggestion of wallpaper). warm but soft laughter, to prevent waking up jack and your little girl. you continued to help aaron peel the stickers as needed, and he, the notorious stickler, double checked you were putting items in the correct places 'according to the instructions'. you both knew once your daughter had her hands on her dollhouse, would nothing remain where it belonged, but that didn't stop him from teasing you; "did you put it in the-" "aaron, yes!"

finally, once in bed with aaron at your backside this time, one of his arms draped securely around your waist, you fell asleep with the heartwarming thought that your daughter's very first request in the morning - after her initial excitement - would be for aaron to play dolls with her. and of course, would he comply (just for a bit, and as long as she finished breakfast first). five minutes would surely turn into ten, fifteen, twenty depending on how early she awoke.

such brought up the potential risk of aaron being late to work, but if it allowed just a few more smiles to come from baby girl, it was well worth it.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

[cursedcola]

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?"- Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia (Pt.1 !) (Pt.2 Here!) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. ALSO SLIGHT SPOILER FOR CHAPTER 7 IN SILVER Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. Also, I went overboard. I had to break Diasomnia into 2 parts because I exceeded tumblr's character limit. I have favorites I guess :/

This man is a child masquerading as an adult. As in to say that he resists any illogical emotions until they bottle up and explode. The traditional pathway for finding a life partner typically follows: stranger -> acquaintance -> friend -> crush -> lover ->partner. You know, as it normally goes when bonds form.

Sebek....is not a textbook case in this regard. His path is a bit more customizable

stranger -> person he is forced to interact with -> acquaintance of Lord Malleus -> Acquaintance of Lord Malleus that Sebek approves of -> Friend that Lord Malleus approves of -> Repressed Crush -> Acquaintance that Sebek avoids at all costs -> Acknowledged crush -> Acknowledged crush that Lord Malleus approves of -> Respected individual with mitigated interactions -> Courting -> awkward situationship -> lover -> awkward situationship (with better communication) -> spouse

Enough said.

This process isn’t as complicated as it may seem on paper. While there are many steps, Sebek is fortunate enough to have people in his life willing to force commitments onto him. It also helps that he has blind trust in a select few. This makes him a bit naive and easily influenced. A boon in the right hands, and a bane in others.

In short, Sebek is emotionally constipated and only acts when there’s a driving force. Otherwise he just gets frustrated. This is extremely apparent at two stages: ‘repressed crush’ and ‘awkward situationship’. Scratch that. Three stages.

Beginning at ‘repressed crush’ - Sebek realizes that he likes you when you ask about how his training is going. He happened by your dorm during his morning jog, and was more than happy to go off on a tangent of the strict regimen developed to forge a perfect knight.

Except that’s not what you wanted to hear. You were more interested in his health and how he was enjoying himself rather than how his work was benefitting Malleus.

His heart fluttered, as if a shock of electricity thrummed through his body. Having never felt this before, Sebek mistakes it for a lapse in his strength and runs off at a much faster speed than before. Forget a light jog, he had enough energy to run 500 laps around the school track.

Don’t you get it human?! You were distracting him! His body was at rest too long. Now shoo, you’re hindering him from doing his duty.

He represses these budding romantic feelings and ‘misinterprets’ them as deviant behavior. He even goes so far as to blame it on ‘useless hormones’ and convinces himself that it’ll pass. He spares it no thought until his pining becomes apparent to everyone except for himself

Que the driving force. Despite Sebek believing otherwise, he does have friends and his entire love-life can be credited to their affectionate stupidity.

Simply put, Ace takes every chance to seamlessly flirt with you whenever Sebek is around. Not in a subtle way either - he's making some risky comments and trying to eat up every moment of your time. The others in your year are well aware of what he's doing too. Deuce thinks he's being unnecessary, but also agrees that Sebek needs a push so he lets it happen. Epel has his gripes with Sebek, but admires him for his manly tenacity. So he's 100% in support of giving an extra push and even tries to copy Ace. Except... yeah, he's pretty bad at flirting so he gives up after one try. Jack is against it at first, not wanting to hurt your feelings in the process but gets talked into it after seeing you get salty over Sebek being distant. Ortho, bless his innocent soul, thinks of it as a fun experiment. Lil guy just wants everyone to be happy.

You have no idea though, which is great because all of Ace's attempts fail hardcore. Sebek and his chivalrous ways (jealousy) won't stand by if you're being constantly bombarded with 'unwanted' romantic affections.

Nevermind that you don't seem to be taking Ace seriously at all. It is still not proper behavior! It would be a stain to his Lord's image if Sebek knowingly let Malleus' beloved friend endure such a hardship.

Every time Ace makes an attempt, Sebek shuts him down faster than you ever could. You have no idea how he does it, but Sebek is always around when it happens. The timing is honestly creepy....until you catch on to what's happening because the Ramshackle prefect isn't a dumdum.

"So....prefect, how about we go get dinner together tomorrow? Just you and me, what do ya say?" Ace slides into the seat to your right during breakfast. He leans in on his fist, eyeing you with a mischievous grin that crinkles the heart on his cheek. Just as he does, Sebek occupies the seat at your left and pushes Ace back with his palm.

"Do you ever rest?! They will do no such thing, now eat your meal before it runs cold. The chefs worked too hard for their efforts to be wasted by a delinquent!" Sebek answers on your behalf like clockwork. This event was not an uncommon sight to anyone, neither was Sebek failing to control his volume, so no other student paid the show any mind.

Normally you'd let them spit a few words at each other before returning to their own devices. Yet letting this continue just felt cruel, especially knowing that Ace was doing it to get a rise from your friend. Although Sebek wasn't innocent in the matter either

"Alright - Ace, would you knock it off? You don't even like me that way so quit messing with my head. I thought you were better than this," you say in between bites, side-eyeing your friend with a disapproving glare "And you!" you turn to Sebek, "I can answer for myself. Why do you even care? It's not like you're in charge of my love life. Just because someone wants to date me doesn't make them a delinquent...sheesh"

Why...why does he care? Sebek short circuits at your scolding, opening and closing his mouth to rebuttal yet coming up with nothing. Angered by his own turmoil, he grabs his meal and goes to sit with others from his dorm.

Stupid human. How dare you be so haughty and ungrateful? He was just protecting you from....from, what exactly? It's not like you going out with Ace would impact him in any way. It's not like you were in danger or upset with his advances. If anything. he was doing a good job at keeping your relationship professional for the sake of his liege!

Go ahead and date that childish hooligan for all he cares! Sebek won't be there to protect you when you're lost, or lend you a scarf on cold winter days. Ace can be the one to call you before bed every night, and keep your yearbook photo on his desk. Possibly keep his favorite candid photo as a bookmark for his diary, not that Sebek would know anyone that keeps a journal. He can have your birthday written in his calendar with a heart drawn around it, and have your picture in his wristwatch. He can set alarms to know when your classes end and walk you home. He can worry when you're sick and listen to your obnoxious prying....he can receive all your affections, and have your loyalty. Listen to your silly ramblings and receive those random 'i just thought of you' presents that Sebek always has a dilemma over what their purpose serves

You can be Ace's headache, and Sebek's heart will be lighter for it. These attachments he's formed were a lapse in judgement and will never be allowed again.

...

Sebek asks his lord for permission to court you. The next morning Malleus wakes to find the devotee bowed outside his bedroom, forehead attached to the floor and hands laid flat on the ground in reverence. Sebek proceeds to begin a long rant about how he's succumbed to his inner demons, and that he has sinned for letting another in his heart - Malleus cuts him off, happy to see love blossoming and interested to watch it all play out. He tells Sebek to take good care of you, before leaving. Meanwhile Sebek is sobbing at his lord's blessing

Once he's gathered himself, Sebek runs to your dorm and pounds on the door with fervor despite the early hour

Grim shakes you out of sleep, grumbling something about an 'annoying bastard' at the door before flopping back in bed. He shoves two pillows over his ears and tells you to fix the problem. That's when you hear the thumping, it's relentless and somehow sours your mood beyond what you thought possible. Mornings were not meant to exist on the weekend. So with an irritated groan, you slip on a robe over your pajamas and answer the door. A fist pauses in the air, moments from striking you. Sebek freezes momentarily, his body going ridged before coughing into his fist. A light blush dusts his cheeks.

“G-good morning, human. I apologize if I've disturbed your sleep, but I have an important announcement that cannot wait any longer" Sebeck studders, focusing on the door pane instead of your disheveled morning appearance.

“Alright" you sigh, resigning yourself to his whims, "what is it?"

Sebeck bows at the waist. "I am in love with you. Please accept my affections."

And so the motions continued on. A most unconventional pairing - possibly the hottest topic of the school year, in the words of Cater Diamond - was formed. Sebek was cautious of Ace at first, their previous spats leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. When he found out the truth, he was both appalled and grateful. So much that he scorned all his friends for weeks on end for pulling a stunt like that - but also thanking them. He apologizes for calling Ace a delinquent, and his heart changes a bit in response to their 'unique' display of care. Their intentions were good, and in the end it worked out. So he can pardon the indiscretion.

Life goes on until your relationship forms an 'awkward situationship'. The first time is brief. As it is with most cases of young love, the binding force that ties you to them crumbles. On earth it is highschool. In Twisted Wonderland it is NRC. Sebek knows where he's going - to serve the Draconias . The grey area is what you plan to do...because as much as his affections have grown, Sebek isn't willing to give up his dreams for you.

He's astonished when you decide to follow him to Briar Valley. He doesn't even have to breech the topic - arrangements were already being made without his input. You wouldn't be staying at the palace against his Lord's wishes. Instead a small cottage was built at a safe distance from the main city. Close enough for you to visit the castle, and far enough for you to feel comfortable and not out of place.

Seeing you taking his wants into consideration alters Sebek's perception of your relationship. You truly were lovers, and not a passing 'hormonal induced fling'. You loved him, and it's here when he truly begins to consider a forever. It was like the time when he first called your name, no longer calling you by 'prefect' or 'human'. He had done it many times in private, yet doing so to your face altered his brain chemistry. He loved the way your name rolled off his tongue, and the way your attention became his at the call.

Which leads us to the third and final major block-aid. Years have passed, and Sebek's well grown as an established knight for the Draconia family. He works alongside Silver, and many other comrades in arms. Everything is exactly as he dreamed. Malleus has become a beloved, strong king. Sebek is respected, and you are thriving as well. He didn't have much faith in your ability to last alone - it's not that he doubts your abilities, but he did doubt his people. When you first moved to Briar Valley Sebek was well aware that there were many like his past self - fae with a hatred for humans. He worried you would struggle to fit in.

Yet you surprised him. The tensions did exist against your kind, but you managed to card a space for yourself in Briar Valley with ease. You didn't even work in the palace, instead choosing to work towards becoming a children's teacher and work towards helping future generations of fae feel comfortable around humans.

His family adored you - with his mother in particular fawning over how Sebek fell down the same pipeline she did. His father offers you both advice on being an interspecies couple - and Sebek actually found himself listening.

Huh. Character growth. Is this what it's like to mature?

All is perfect, yet not. Sebek is forced to confront this when news travels that a human was attacked on their way to the palace. The dread that coursed through his veins was unlike anything Sebek's felt in his entire life. Under Malleus' rule, humans were slowly becoming more prevalent in Briar Valley. They hadn't mentioned your name specifically, but he jumped the gun.

Against his better judgement, Sebek abandons his post and rushed to the city's clinic. The injured human wasn't you, thank the seven, but the dread lingered. So he ran to the school you taught at and practically barged into your classroom. Luckily it was empty as the day was near end. Sebek hadn't known that yet still behaved recklessly.

He rushed to your side, talking faster than your brain could keep up with while checking over your body. He flipped topics like a teen trying to pick a college major - scolding you for worrying him, blubbering gibberish about how you'd no longer be allowed to walk alone, and myriad of other things.

Sebek was so shook, that he completely forgot about his knightly station. Malleus didn't punish him for abandoning his post. Not like it mattered, considering Sebek was already doing ample damage on his own. The realization hit him like a stone punch to the gut - there was a threat to his liege, and instead of focusing on apprehending the criminal he chose to find you.

Malleus' power or his dismissal of the matter meant little in the overall picture. Sebek failed. He's ashamed beyond belief.

and yet, he can't help but wonder what ight have been. What if you were the one attacked and he chose to stay? He would have failed you in that scenario.

He's surprised to find that the prospect his failure hurts just as much - if not more. His lord is powerful, and there are many to serve him. Your last moments could have been spent in a cold medical bed, surrounded by strangers. Fading away and taking Sebek's dreams with you.

............

Ah. Since when had that word become plural? His dream was always to serve Lord Malleus. Now there are more - he wants a family, and he wants to go to that play you were organizing with the valley's children next weekend. He wants to become a greater knight to protect the city that houses all the people he cares about. Again, plural. Lilia, Silver, his siblings and parents, all the human and fae who are loyal subjects to his most revered. You, and your decedents to come.

It's frightening. How valuable one's life can become. His always belonged to the Draconia bloodline to do with at they pleased - now Sebek's in pieces. Is he truly worthy of being a knight if he cannot give his whole heart?

He doesn't blame you for this. In his youth Sebek might have tossed your relationship aside in a heartbeat - that, or he might've demanded Malleus dismiss him and send him to repent in exile or whatever. Sebek has a problem with embellishing with dramatics.

BUT... he's more mature now. Mature enough to realize that maybe he can have his cake and eat it too.

So, he asks Lilia for advice. At this time the general merely lazes around the castle like a bat on the wall - acting as an advisor and observer. Surely he'd know what to do.

"There is nothing wrong with sharing a heart amongst many. If anything, the toughest decisions make us stronger. The more you have to lose, the stronger you will become to protect"

Preach it grandpappy. Lilia wants to see his grandkids so stop the slow burn already.

It's deja vu because Sebek wants to propose as quick as possible. Just like when he confessed, the man nearly runs to your home on impulse. You can thank Lilia for your proposal not taking place at 3am with your door being broke in two (Sebek is much stronger than he was in his teens, and sometimes miscalculates his strength).

Instead, Sebek finds himself anxiously clutching a ring in his pocket the following week. It was the night of a school play you were hosting - one he was looking forward to since you were so proud in your work. Ergo, Sebek felt pride as well by default.

How unfortunate that he can't focus on the show. With his mind reeling so much, it's taking all he has to sit quietly in the audience. His eyes follow your movements as you direct the kids, and for a brief moment you smile at him from the stage.

Zap. Alright. Don't clutch metal when you're a living thunderbolt. Duly noted. If anything the jolt of pain brings him back to reality.

When the play ends, and all the children have gone home with their families, he finds you back stage sweeping confetti. His plan was to congratulate you, and take you to a nice restaurant where he could do this properly.

Except he can't wait. When you turn around from putting the broom away, he's already taken a knee and holding the ring out. Those diligent gold iris' not pulling away for one moment, as he holds the ring out between two fingers and his other hand placed over his heart as if taking an oath.

"Before you say anything - You have sacrificed time and time again for my happiness - my efforts are insignificant in comparison. I have taken your patience for granted like a spoiled juvenile. There was a time when I found this kindness of yours unnecessary. I thought it a distraction - a test of my strength to fulfill my destiny. I see now that I was foolish”

Sebek pauses, grinding his teeth together in regret and anguish.

“I had not known fear until you. I have more to lose now than ever before. Last week I abandoned my post - my purpose- In that moment, all I could think about was if you’d been attacked, then my life would be over. You make me lose all sense of logic and reason…so I demand that you take responsibility and marry me!”

{A gold band with an obsidian base. Gold and silver flakes are sealed atop the obsidian plate using resin. Very practical, yet charming nonetheless. Humans typically wear matching bands, yes? Sebek sees no purpose in getting separate designs since the point is to show proof of partnership. He needs a practical shape that will not interfere with combat, yet also wants it to be an aesthetic choice. Sebek could care less about looks, but if he’s going to give you a ring then it will be the best possible option to match to your worth}

Silver is beautiful like still ocean waters. He's breathtaking - literally and figuratively. With the beauty of a fairytale prince, personality of a wise knight, and deadliness of the deep sea. It's easy to be sucked in when Silver seemingly has no flaws. So easy that at one point there were rumors of him being a living doll, created by the fae to be a perfect solider.

These perceptions all rely on his outward appearance: the knight in shining armor. Albeit so, being so perfect almost makes him unnoticeable. Compared to his rowdy peers with quirks and notable personalities - Silver truly is a doll. Like the complacent child praised for being more mature than their siblings. He is as easily forgotten as he is admired.

Some would say that this is a flaw in itself - because no one is naturally perfect. No one is so complacent and calm at birth. It's simply a desirable flaw. One that hurts him, yet has ben praised by others.

Silver is strong. Silver is diligent. Silver is beautiful. Silver is breathtaking and yet not the showstopper - like gold. Gold brings warmth while silver is cold. Imperfections in gold give it character, and can be seen as art. Imperfections in silver are seen as unsightly scratches.

Silver knows this, yet doesn't want to be gold. He doesn't deserve to be gold.

Silver doesn't deserve anything. He has already taken so much simply by living. He has a world to be grateful for, and not enough time to repay his debts.

He is content being Silver - if he could then he'd be copper. Lesser. Yet he is Silver, a reminder of the blood he carries.

He will remain unremarkable yet dedicated. He will dedicate everything to his family and friends - do whatever he can to break free of his sleeping curse and help others. He will give until he cannot give anymore. Then he will give more, to repay all he has received.

....For as much as he is content with this life, Silver still envies gold.

You are beautiful like a new dawn. Ushering in each day with a vibrant display that commands attention. People instinctively admire you despite the risk of hurting their eyes. You heal the world naturally, and help others simply by existing. People take you for granted, because inevitably the moon will rise, and the cold will inevitably return.

You were bathed in golden light. This Silver noticed the moment he laid eyes on you. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

Silver envies gold.

........

You envy Silver. His calm, his family, his dedication despite being limited by his crippling drowsiness. Out of the students from Diasomnia, he was the one you lingered towards more often than not. The freshmen revered him for his skills, and he was a true gentle soul. You at first couldn't believe that he was Lilia's son - how did such a kind boy come from a rambunctious tease? Revelations of his past brought much to light, and now you couldn't think of him being anyone else.

Silver was loved like the first snowfall. He had a family that loved him dearly, no matter how short his time with them would be. He was raised to bring happiness to others, and protect their hearts using his demure temperament.

Silver was modest, and silver glistened when you'd expect him to the least. As the wind caressed his hair during an afternoon siesta, or sparks lit in his eyes while swinging his sword. How the horses nuzzle his side after equestrian practice, showing full trust and affection. Even in the sweat dripping from his brow, shining as he easily finishes a set of push ups.

Yet nothing struck your heart more than the melancholy he'd emit when no one was looking. How quickly he'd fade into the background, only popping in when necessary or if someone gave him note. In these moments Silver gleamed brilliantly, yet a shadow put out his shine.

You thought the melancholy inviting. It felt so natural, so real. Except you believed it balanced dangerously between despair and serene. The larger question being which side would he evidently fall towards.

.........

Silver admires gold.

He couldn't stop the pull. He just couldn't. Not with how you seemingly watch him when no one else does. Who wouldn't feel special? With the way you take note of things he normally wouldn't think of, and recklessly delve into helping others with no regard for yourself. Whether you desire the trouble is beyond him - the matter is that you see every issue through. There isn't a soul who doesn't know of the ramshackle prefect.

Perhaps this is his torment to endure. To get a taste for what he could have been, and willingly be tied to it.

Silver stares into a vanity mirror, his expression neutral despite the growing emotions inside. A slightly tattered sheet is tied around his neck like a bib, covering his front and part of his back. A shiver runs down his spine as you comb through his hair, deftly trimming the edges with a pair of kitchen scissors with the precision of a professional. A shiver runs down his spine every time your fingers linger against his scalp, either from tucking stray strands or combing through layers with your fingertips.

Your expression is stern, eyes intensely focused as you cut around his ear, afraid to nick him in the process. He finds the expression adorable yet bites his tongue. Silver couldn't think those thoughts. Not when you offered to do this out of the kindness of your heart.

Nonetheless, his heart thrums. If it were possible he'd think the organ about to pop out at any moment.

"Finished!" you smile in satisfaction and tussle Silver's soft locks for good measure. In one fell swoop, you undo the knot around his neck and pull the makeshift apron off of him. Silver nods, a slight smile teasing the edge of his lips. He stands from the chair and steps over any hair on the floor, reaching for the broom to clean before you could think to. "Thank you. I no longer need to schedule with a barber. This will save much time," In truth he had no intentions for a haircut. You were the one to notice how his bangs hindered his vision, and offered to help. Silver couldn't bring himself to deny your kindness. "You really like it? Hehe. Y'know, maybe I should start a shop on campus? I only started doing this since there aren't any affordable salons....maybe with it I can finally afford to fix the guest room!" you cheer and prattle on about all the different possibilities. Occasionally you'll ask for Silver's input, or even give an off hand compliment about how he was the perfect 'test subject'. Your company is intoxicating, he realizes. Talking with you is as easy as drinking water. Before Silver realizes, night has fallen and you've fallen asleep on the couch. Despite his better judgement, he finds himself wandering the Ramshackle door. He compulsively cleans up the mess you'd both left behind during his visit, doing the dishes from dinner and rearranging things here and there. As he does so, Silver notes all the little improvements around the dorm. It feels more like a home than a school building. Then again you do live alone. He wonders how often you host visitors, and if you unknowingly ensnared them just as you've done to him. He covers your shoulders with a blanket and steps outside under the moonlight.

It’s cold.

...............

You wake up the following day to find all the windows shut, your living room clean, and a warm blanket covering your shoulders. Your eyes peer around for silver, yet turn up empty.

Of course. Silver has a dorm to return to and people that would miss him if he returned late.

Shuffling around the silent dorm, the rickey old floorboards creek underneath your weight. In manufactured motions, you brew a cup of tea and pour it into the only well-used cup from the cabinet.

As your cup brews, you sit at the table with the blanket still clutched tight over your shoulders.

The tea goes cold, yet you are warm.

................

Silver loves gold.

but silver and gold don't mix. The question always is: silver or gold? When deciding a piece of jewelry to match your skin tone, people will ask 'silver or gold'? The metals are not meant to mix because they clash. It's an outfit catastrophe.

Yet, Silver cannot help but wonder. As he lays with his head in your lap and the sun and silence coaxing him to slumber - what if an outfit existed to compliment both silver and gold?

"Silver..are you sleeping again?" you tap his cheek with one hand, and his eyes open instinctively. Despite his drowsiness he will always look for you. Yet right now he's never regretted the magnetic pull more. With the sun casting a golden overcast, you peer down at him from above with tender eyes typically reserved for one's child. Your glow is breathtaking, and he cannot help the sinking feeling in his stomach that he is unworthy. With such gentle hands combing across his scalp and eyes that look upon him so tenderly - he is afraid to steal your warmth. And yet… "You are beautiful," Silver lets it slip, his hand reaching to brush against your jaw as if under a spell. He feels unnervingly calm. Not in his usual way, where he is constantly observing and playing a game of mental chess. This is a true calm, and he knows now that this is a point of no return.

Silver is beautiful like a still ocean. You are beautiful like the rising sun. When combined, a perfect image is formed just waiting for an artist to stumble upon it.

Against his wishes, the world has granted the child of dawn another gift. The gift of true love. 'True love's kiss will break the curse' and while it is childish to believe so in this case, Silver does so wholeheartedly.

When with you, the days pass like minutes. He wants nothing more than to forgo need for sleep, if only to work harder towards becoming a man worthy.

Silver envies gold for it's effortless demand for love, yet he no longer wants to be gold. He no longer wishes he were born copper.

Gold loves silver, so Silver he will be.

And with time, both Silver and Gold will be ground to dust regardless.

He thinks of this on a winter evening while holding a ring up into the moonlight. It's cold outside, yet he doesn't mind. The chill atop his nose does nothing but tinge it a lovely rosy color.

He looks through the windowpane into a home masquerading as a school building. His reflection is familiar yet changing rapidly in comparison to his family. The years have aged him, yet not by much. Silver is stronger, his soft jaw a bit sharper. His bangs have grown long again, it would soon be time for a cut. Perhaps he'd enlist a 'barber' after relocating back to the castle in briar valley.

Inside you sit at the couch, sipping from a well-used mug with Grim on your lap and watching cartoons. Silver's bag rests on the armchair, unzipped with nightly necessities spilling out the side. A slightly newer baby blue mug sits on the coffee table, with steam evaporating into the air as it waits to be used.

Silver smiles, walking towards the door and walking inside. Heat warms his cheeks and he is calm.

"I know I am unworthy of you, the thought plagues me to this very moment. Yet I cannot help but love you - like wishing on a star yet knowing deep in the depths of your heart that miracles are made not granted. I've received many, so I would know. My father gifted me life through love - and with you I understand how it is possible. I cannot imagine life without you. I promise this, I will cherish you and protect you for as long as you allow it. Would you marry me?"

Months later a ceremony is held in a secluded forest, in the yard of a cottage where a child first learned love. As an adult, he joins his most precious in matrimony, offering his sword to be sworn faithful.

You are beautiful like the first breech of daylight - and for once, Silver is happy to be a man of dawn.

Silver and gold.

Silver and gold.

Everyone wishes for silver and gold.

How do you measure it's worth?

Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.

{A ring forged from a silver band, gold leaf embellishments, and a moss agate core. Enough said.}

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #diasomnia #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #silver x reader #twst silver x reader #silver vanrouge #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst imagines #I FREAKIN FINALLYT FINISHED THIS SERIES

[cocteaucherry]

fuckboy!suguru x reader

a/n-something I wrote in like two days, :p

cws- geto is fr a douche, nipple play, nipple piercing, tongue piercings, unprotected p in v, 18+, geto with tattoos, mention of bodily fluids, slight coercion, reader uses she/her pronouns

fuckboy!Suguru who was the sweetest boy through your years of high school.

His hair was relatively long and his face was still developing, he’d offer to help you study for upcoming quizzes and would often invite you out for coffee study dates.

The summer after graduation Geto had cut contact with most of his friends (other than Gojo and Shoko) you didn't look too deep into it, I mean he was cutting social ties starting fresh, turning over a new great leaf. Oh how wrong you were

That fall you attended your local college excited to enter a new chapter, a few weeks into your first semester everything had gone calmly until you saw him.

He was more sculpted, his raven hair cascaded down his back and, how did he get jacked in a matter of months? Although to be fair he always wore baggy clothes. To add onto his new look was a long dragon sleeve tattoo and a cool metal ball pierced through his tongue.

You wondered where this pivot came from until the rumors and whispers began, many people regaling with tears how he fucked, led them on then broke it off with swift quickness.

A pang of disappointment rang through your body, over a boy you hung out with a few times was crazy your mind told you but you couldn't care.

fuckboy!Suguru who approached you in the dining hall with a sickeningly sweet smile and his usual hushed tone, “Y/N, long time no see.” a fake smile generated on your face as you listened to him try to powder and egg you on.

“I think we should catch up this weekend whaddya’ think?”

“I don't know..”

“Come on pleasee, it'll be like old times.”

“Fine,”

“Saturday at five good?”

Fuckboy!suguru picking you up in his surprisingly nice black Jeep, for being a douche he had a suspiciously clean car. He wore baggy jeans and a tight black t-shirt, his muscles looking as if they're trying to bust out the tight fabric but your eyes are brought to his chest.

Four small metal balls on either side of his nipples and you were gobsmacked.

“It's rude to stare, angel.”

You were bought out of your gaze, a heat creeping up your neck, you hadn't registered the nick name he gave you.

The date with Suguru had gone surprisingly well, you held your breath for the level of sleaze he could give off but so far nothing came.

So how come you found yourself on his couch sloppily making out with him?

His lips attacked and bruised yours aggressively, his large hands running over the slight exposure of your skin, small grunts came from his mouth as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

In the back of your mind this went against all your morals but at the moment you didn't care.

Fuckboy!Suguru who had you ride his thick, aching cock in the comfort of his bed, you whimpered as you struggled to slam your hips down completely on his length.

His amber eyes scanned your body as his muscles tensed as he felt you clench around him. Rough hands came to your soft bouncing breasts as he squeezed a nipple aggressively in-between his fingers, “Feel how hard you make me angel?” he cooed using his other hand to slap his hand harshly on the fat of your ass.

“Letting me fuck this tight pussy on our first outing too? tch.” he clicked his tongue latching his mouth onto your erect nipple, he swirled the tip of his tongue around purposely moving the cold metal around the space.

Whines escaped from your mouth as you pleaded, “S-Sugu, let me cum please,” you moaned continuing to bounce off his cock.

“Mm should I?” he mumbled pulling off your nipple to smirk at your sweaty face, “Don't know if you earned it,” the grip on your ass getting harsher each second.

Fuckboy!suguru who edged you for about two hours that night but came about four times all over your face, tits, and ass.

Fuckboy!suguru who left you naked in his bed to smoke outside as he ran into his white haired roommate hair tousled, “Suguru, do you always have to do this shit here? I'm not getting any sleep.” he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

Suguru smirked, holding a cigarette in hand as his sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips, “You'll be fine.”

“Who’s on the roster tonight?”

“Cute girl, met her in the dinner hall.”

“Huh, might’ve been the quickest fuck you've gotten usually you wait a week or two what's different?”

Suguru shrugged while walking towards the balcony, “No idea, just met her this week.”

Satoru raised an eyebrow with a grin, “Sugu~ y’know you're a terrible liar right?”

I feel like I could've gone a lot more extreme but I didn't wanna hurt my own feelings)

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu x reader #x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto angst #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #geto smut #jjk smut

[dear-bunnyboo]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 18+

important note: my face claim will be madison beer but you can imagine whoever you desire. also the songs mentioned are not all technically all madison’s i will be incorporating other songs from other artists.

all the pictures seen below are not mine, however they were edited by yours truly. credits to the owners.

this is my gift to you lovelies for patiently waiting for this chapter! A lot of important events in this chapter… including our very first smut of the series (I was blushing while writing this btw 🥵)

Y’all need Jesus after this fr.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Joe Burrow x Singer!Reader / Brief Ex!Jack Hughes x Singer!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s a busy week for you and Joe— from the VMAs to the Super Bow, you two can’t help but be shameless.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content, smut, cursing, fluff, mentions of injury, tackling, mentions of cheating ex, fluff, alcohol consumption, flirting, media, paparazzi, sexual tension, more smut, victory sex, hair pulling, soft dom!Joe, spitting, oral, choking, Joe motherfucking Burrow

If you are below the age of 18 and or you are not comfortable with the warnings above, please don’t read this!

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐍𝐇𝐋 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Newark, New Jersey - Prudential Center

Flash, Flash, Flash

Flashing lights was all you could see. Each flash earned you a scream and or a holler from all directions— something you have grown accustomed to.

It was a beautiful Monday, a perfect day for the VMAs.

"Y/N!"

"Y/N, over here, darling!"

"Y/N, give us a smile please!"

"Look over here, Y/N"

"Y/N! Over here!"

As the bright lights of the red carpet dazzle your vision, you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of this very moment. Black and white dots now dancing in your eyes as you stayed smiling and posing for the cameras. The crimson carpet stretches before you like a river of greater opportunity, and you're about to dive right in. Your heart flutters in your chest, excitement and nervousness intertwined— you have attended in such events for years now, yet you still can't seem to get used to all the commotion whenever you were in attendance.

The red carpet is a stage in itself, where every step, every glance, every word must be perfectly measured. You reminded yourself to breathe, to savor the moment, to be present. Your a person of talent, passion, and strength, and tonight, You will shine in the spotlight, alongside the people who support you the most.

The camera flashes are like a relentless storm, and you try to maintain that poised smile, the one that you've mastered after the countless times you've stood in front of cameras. You know that every snapshot is a memory etched in time— which is why Y/BF/N dressed you up in the most beautiful dress. You were wearing a pink skin tight dress, a shimmering masterpiece of silk that feels like a second skin with a slit that goes up to your thigh.

Before you could move off of the red carpet, from your peripheral vision you see your best friend directing Joe to stand right next to you and surprisingly he did earning more flashes from the cameras in front of you and more screams from all around.

Joe's muscular arm instantly wrapped around your form, pulling you closer to him— you were practically glued next to him as he stared at the cameras up ahead.

"Joe!"

"Joe! Y/N!"

"Y/N! Joe! Over here!"

"Give a kiss for us!"

"One kiss!"

"Kiss her, Joe!"

Turning your head to look at the man who shouted the last request, you gave him a teasing wink earning a laugh from them. However, Joe had other plans— your boyfriend squeezed your waist causing you to turn and look at the tall man as he was already looking down at you with mischief written in his beautiful baby blue eyes.

"They are begging, lovebug." Joe whispers to you.

Without giving you much time to think about it— Joe gently grabbed your chin in his large hands of his and directed your face towards his, capturing your lips in his, kissing you shamelessly in from of the cameras that were now flashing twice as much as they cheered you two on.

Pulling back, your face was now red and you were pretty sure you could see Y/BF/N giggling at the sideline as she watches with a childlike look in her face.

You gave Joe a playful glare as he chuckled at the look on your face—the same look you gave him when he insisted on going as your date tonight. You were a bit hesitant to take him, not because of the media or the fans— you couldn't give a rats ass about them. It is because the biggest game of his life will be held this Sunday and you didn't want him to miss out on his training days which he ultimately did considering he is right next to you this very moment.

Standing right next to you was your rock, your boyfriend, the famous quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals who is missing the first day of training for the Super Bowl for you. His strong presence is reassuring, his hand warm as he caresses your back. He's here to support you whether you liked it or not, to share in this moment of triumph, and you are so grateful for that. You feel Joe's silent encouragement, his belief in you, and it fuels your confidence even more.

Walking into the grand entrance of the award show ceremony, You can feel the energy in the room, a palpable buzz of excitement and anticipation. The flashbulbs, once a storm on the red carpet, have now turned into a sea of stars among us. Upon entering, you and Joe were greeted by enthusiastic cheers and applause from the fans that are in attendance, and it's like a wave of affirmation washing over you.

Joe's charisma is in a whole other level— to the people who are just now seeing or meeting Joe, his aura is felt throughout. Joe's presence exuding confidence and charm. He's accustomed to the spotlight, but tonight, it's not just about you or Joe, it's about the both of you— this week is both your weeks.

As the two of you made your way further into the venue, you catch the admiring glances and smiles from fellow artists and industry insiders. It's a warm welcome, a validation of the hard work and passion that have led you to this moment. The whispers of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the symphony of anticipation in the air heighten the sense of importance.

Once you reached your seats, you were greeted by more familiar faces in the industry as you politely exchanged pleasantries, Your boyfriend watches you silently as you interacted with people and the way Joe looks at you is a mixture of pride and love, which is a source of strength, reminding you that you're not here alone. They would later turn to him and have the same reaction dawn on their face, it was a mixture of admiration, awe, and intimidation— it was an immediate reaction at this point.

Joe is just that... otherworldly.

The red carpet was a prelude, a dazzling introduction to the evening, but now you were inside, ready to take your seats. Your heart races with excitement, and you can't help but be grateful for the support, for the enthusiasm of those around you. It's a night to celebrate, a night to be recognized for the art you create, and you're eager to embrace every moment of it.

With Joe on your right and Y/BF/N on your left, you feel more at ease with both of them next to you. Your hand is intertwined with Joe's as he quietly looks around the room— a music award show was something he has never attended before and you are excited to take him to more as you watched the stage lights reflect in his crystal eyes.

The night went on, performance after performance were presented. You and Joe were enjoying yourself, watching as the first batch of award were given out— you were nominated to three categories tonight which just so happens to be the three biggest categories of the night

As the evening unfolds, you find yourself in a whirlwind of emotions.

"Here are the nominees for MTV VMAs, Song of the Year."

On cue the large screen in front played the video of the nominee for the category— once the video ended the presenter slowly opened the envelope on their hands, you sat in silence as you kept your composure while your hand grasps Joe's who placed a kiss on your ear before whispering your name as if he was announcing the winner himself.

"Reckless, Y/N Y/L/N!"

The applause, the cheers, and the joy of being recognized for your work are beyond your wildest dreams. You gave Y/BF/N a big hug before doing the same to your boyfriend who later places another kiss on your lips as the camera follows you towards the main stage.

You clutch the trophy in your hands, feeling its weight, both literal and symbolic— the hard work you have put yourself through after the incident with your ex boyfriend.

It was a blessing in disguise.

Not long after returning to your seat, you were yet called up on stage. The feeling of accomplishment overwhelming as you received yet another Moonman.

"The Album of the Year is— Teardrops! Y/N Y/L/N!"

The realization that you've won award after award is sinking in, and you can't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude—one more to go.

After receiving your second award of the night you were rushed immediately backstage for your performance, Y/BF/N already waiting for you with your performance outfit on hand. There were no words exchanged for you were running on borrowed time, your team running along with you as they followed you around as they touched up your make up and fixed your hair.

You headed towards the main stage to your position on the middle of the stage now wearing a little black number that ended mid thigh, hugging your body in the right places. Your dancers surrounding you as they take their places by you as well.

The beginning instrumental of I Did Something Bad started playing in your in-ear— the stage is set, bathed in an ethereal glow, and the audience hushes in anticipation. As the spotlight focuses on the center, there you stand, the pop star sensation, a vision in sequins and stardust. Your powerful voice, like a siren's call, weaves through the air, captivating every soul in the room.

The music surges, the melody infectious, and you danced with an effortless grace that mesmerizes the crowd. Your energy is infectious, igniting the atmosphere with every note. The lyrics are more than just words; they're a story, a journey, a reflection of your heart and soul— the anger and frustration you felt while you wrote the song resonating across the room.

In the front row, Joe watches with a mixture of admiration and love. His eyes are fixed on you, unwavering. Joe has witnessed your journey, the anxiety attacks, the crying, the writing and recording process, the late-night rehearsals, the raw determination, and it all culminates on this stage. He's not just a spectator; he's a witness to the magic you create.

The applause, the cheers, and the standing ovation that follows the performance are a testament to your artistry. You, with your boyfriend's unwavering support, has left an indelible mark on the hearts of those in the audience, reminding them of the power of music and the strength of love. It's a moment to be cherished, a performance that transcends the boundaries of the stage and touches the hearts of everyone in that room.

Once you've returned back to your seat still in your black ensemble, you shamelessly wrapped your arms around Joe's neck as he stood up for you— a warm smile on his face as he nonchalantly caress your body in front of everybody.

"My baby is amazing— so amazing." Joe praises as he helped you on your seat, his warm hand caressing your back while his piercing blue eyes remained on you, eyeing you up and down.

"Thank you, I had fun." you replied slightly out of breath as you gave him a peck on his awaiting lips.

The last award of the night was being presented as you leaned your head on Joe's shoulder, tired after your performance. The blonde places a kiss on your head as he continued to caress your exposed thigh as you waited for the winner to be announced.

"And the Artists of the Year goes to— Y/N Y/LN!"

The moment comes again as you're called up to receive another award. You step forward, and before you can even move another step up the stairs that led to the stairs, Joe leans in and plants a sweet kiss on your lips. It's a gesture of love, a quiet proclamation to the world that he's proud of you.

"Three for three, baby" he whispers against your lips earning a wink from you.

The audience erupts in applause and cheers, sharing in your joy— obviously enjoying the interaction between the two of you.

"Oh my goodness." you started as you reached the mic that was placed on the center stage. You looked at the trophy in your hands, you continued, "I am deeply honored and humbled to stand before you tonight as the recipient of the Artist of the Year award. This moment is not just about me; it's a celebration of the incredible journey we’ve all been on. I would not be here without the unwavering support of so many amazing people, and for that, I am profoundly grateful." you smiled.

"Thank you. To my fellow artists, your creativity and dedication continue to inspire me. This award is not just a recognition of my efforts, but a testament to the power of music in all its forms, and the profound impact it has on our lives. The path to this stage has been filled with highs and lows, challenges and triumphs. It's a journey that has taught me the power of perseverance, the importance of staying true to oneself, and the beauty of creating music that resonates with the heart and soul."

"I want to take a moment to express my gratitude to all those who have been a part of this journey. To my family, who believed in me from the very beginning and provided the love and encouragement that fueled my passion. To my incredible team, who worked tirelessly behind the scenes, helping me bring my vision to life. To the fans, who have been my source of inspiration and motivation every single day— to my best friend, Y/BF/N who is with me right now, thank you for literally everything."

"I also want to thank, number 9 over there." you started before stopping because of the cheers and screams after mentioning Joe who was watching you with a grin on his beautiful face, his eyes never ones leaving yours. "Thank you for taking care of me mentally and physically when I needed the most, I adore you so much it hurts." you moved an inch away from the mic heading back to your seat before deciding to return "Oh, and to the person who inspired my recent album— you know who you are. I literally wouldn't be here without you, so thank you." you smirked and winked at the camera

Once you returned to your seat, Joe placed another kiss on your head "You're trouble." he chuckled implying at the stunt you just pulled. "You love me." you said without thinking.

"That I do."

Your heart flutters with a newfound sense of accomplishment. It's not just about the trophies; it's about the love and support you have in your life. And each time Joe kisses you that night— it's a reminder that you two are in this journey together, celebrating each other's victories.

Los Angeles, California - SoFi Stadium

It is finally Sunday. Its officially the day of the Super Bowl and you simply cannot handle all the emotions that are flowing inside of you this very moment.

Everyone who is everyone is here in the stadium and the weight of today’s events is now dawning on you. The Bengals are yet again going against the Rams for the second time in the Super Bowl— a team they had lost to during their first Super Bowl game. It was the rematch Bengals fans have been waiting for.

You found yourself yet again in the suite where you were surrounded by a lot of Joe’s families and closest friends. Along with Y/BF/N who sat by your side, Your parents were given tickets by your boyfriend— seated next to your other side was your mom and dad who were busy laughing with Robin and Jim.

As you stand in the suite with your arms crossed to your chest, watching the lead-up to kick-off, your heart is a tempest of emotions. The air is charged with excitement, and the entire stadium is alive with anticipation.

Your boyfriend, the star quarterback— Joe Burrow, is at the center of it all. You can see him on the field, surrounded by his teammates, the embodiment of strength and determination. The weeks and months of preparation have all led to this one defining moment.

In just a few minutes, the American flag was brought out, signifying the beginning of the singing of the National Anthem. The National Anthem immediately resonates through the stadium, surrounding the stadium with careful melodies and vocals, and as the final notes echo, You can't help but feel a sense of pride and unity as the hairs on your arms stood up in both excitement and nervousness.

The crowd roars with fervor, and your heart instantly swells with hope.

Kick-off is a heart-pounding moment, and as the game unfolds, every play feels like a microcosm of destiny. With each snap, you can see the intensity in Joe’ eyes from where you were standing, the focus that's been a constant companion in the days leading up to this Super Bowl.

You were up on your feet the entire time, not taking a chance to sit as if you’d miss everything if you did. The sound of cheers and groans echoes in the stadium as the Halftime show started— you couldn’t even enjoy the performance, all you could think about was Joe.

You wanted him to win— he deserves to win.

The competition is fierce, and as the clock ticks away, your anxiety rises. Every throw, every rush, every tackle feels like a rollercoaster of emotions— Y/BF/N grabbing your hand in hers to stop you from potentially ripping your hair out from all the anxiety this stupid game was giving you.

You had a love and hate relationship with football— even more so now that your watching your boyfriend get tackled to the ground.

Then, it happens.

In the final moments of the game, with the score tied; 34-34— which got you gnawing on your lower lip. Joe takes the snap. He surveys the field, and as he releases the ball, time seems to slow down— everyone collectively held their breaths as you watched the ball as it spirals through the air, a graceful arc, and then— with a breathtaking touchdown, the stadium erupts in deafening cheers.

You watched as the rest of the team ran towards Joe as they celebrated on the center one the field— your vision starting to get blurry. It took you long to realize that you were indeed crying, a warm hand caressed your back— turning around you were met with Joe’s mom who was crying herself, she pulled you in for a hug as your family and Joe’s celebrated.

Joe has done it. The last touchdown. Your boyfriend has become the Super Bowl champion. You can hardly contain your joy, and tears of elation filled your eyes once more. The victory is not just his; it's a triumph of dedication, teamwork, and unwavering commitment. You know that this moment will be etched in his memory forever, and you couldn't be prouder. It's a celebration of dreams realized, of hard work paying off, and it's a testament to the power of never giving up. This is a moment we'll cherish for a lifetime, a moment that makes all the sacrifices and struggles worthwhile.

Later that evening you’ve found yourself snuggled in Joe’s side as he listened to Kid Cudi perform at the after party. You and Joe stood by the stage, his arms wrapped around you while you two bobbed your head to the beat— Y/BF/N was on the dance floor dancing her little heart out while both your parents and Joe’s parents already left an hour ago.

As the party roars around you, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming mix of excitement, joy, and anticipation coursing through in your veins. The Super Bowl win was not only a victory for Joe but the entire Bengals organization as well, who are all found in the room enjoying the party that’s being taken place.

It had been a rollercoaster ride of emotions throughout the game, but now, amidst the celebration, your attention was solely focused on Joe and his on you— you two couldn’t get your hands off of each other. The mixture of the adrenaline from the win and the slight buzz from the alcohol making the two of you bold— completely uncaring of the cameras that surrounded the the two of you.

“So, lovebug, I suppose my touchdown wasn't the only thing that left you breathless tonight.” Joe began, his smirk etching itself on his face as he looked down on you.

“Oh, please, Joe. Don't let that Super Bowl win get to your head. But I can't deny, you definitely scored some major points out there.” You rolled your eyes playfully at the blonde who simply chuckled.

Joe leaned towards you even closer, his lips now touching your ear, “Well, they say a victory is always sweeter when you have someone special to celebrate with. And speaking of sweet, you're looking absolutely irresistible tonight.”

Your eyes lightens at every word that came out of Joe’s mouth. “You know, I couldn't take my eyes off you the entire game. Every time I saw you in the suite cheering for me, it gave me the extra boost I needed. You're my lucky charm, babe.” he mutters kissing your cheek.

A playful twinkle in your eye shone against the colorful lights of the club as you looked up at your boyfriend, “Lucky charm? Well, don't go thinking I'll be letting you forget that easily, Mr. Superstar. But if I am your good luck charm, then I guess you owe me a victory dance, right?”

“Oh, absolutely. But let's save that victory dance for somewhere more private.” Joe smirks as he watched your brain short circuit— he wasn’t talking about dancing anymore that’s for sure.

With each passing moment, your playful banter and flirtatious glances intensified. The electricity between the two of you seemed to crackle in the air, heightening the already electric atmosphere of the party. As you moved through the crowd to get another drink, you couldn't resist stealing stolen moments with Joe—brief touches, whispers of affection, and mischievous grins exchanged from across the room.

Throughout the night, you found yourself falling even deeper in love, cherishing every stolen moment that reaffirmed their connection. It was a celebration of the Bengals’ success— Joe’s success. In that moment, as the two of you continued to flirt and revel in the team’s victory, you knew that love and football had collided to create a truly magical and unforgettable night.

Every interaction with Joe sent a thrill through your heart. You found herself becoming more aware of his presence, his touch, his infectious smile. The way he looked euphoric, lightly drenched in sweat and adrenaline, only added to the magnetism between you. You found yourself across the room from him— talking to your best friend, however, your eyes locked, speaking volumes without a single word being uttered. Each glance whispered promises of a future filled with shared victories, celebrations, and unwavering support.

The tension was palpable— it was suffocating you.

And it continued suffocating you until you and Joe got back to your hotel suite.

Upon entering the room, you and Joe kept quiet— uncharacteristic for the both of you considering how much you two talk when you are together— yet it was quiet, it was painful.

You carefully removed your heels off your feet, leaving them bare as you crossed to the room towards the edge of the bed. You started removing the jewelry you were wearing, carefully and placing them on the bedside table.

It was still quiet.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You knew he was watching you— Joe was stood behind you, leaning against the wall as he eyed you from behind, watching your every move like a predator does to his prey. The heat from his gaze is something you could physically feel on you— but you remained unfazed while you continued removing your jewelry.

The sound of Joe walking towards you made you slightly jump in place, trying to keep your composure— you kept your back towards him.

Joe now stood right behind you, his tall stature towering you from behind as you removed your earrings, placing them on the bedside table along with the rest of your jewelry. You can feel the heat of his body from behind you as it radiated off of him like fire. Slowly, Joe’s fingers caressed your neck as he placed kisses on your neck. “We have a lot to celebrate, lovebug.” he whispered against your neck.

“What else is there to celebrate that is more important then you winning the Super Bowl?” you mangaged to breathe out as you leaned back closer to him as he played his fingers through your hair.

He moved closer and you felt yourself melt into him even more as he wrapped his arms around your waist before slowly dragging his large warm hands against your thighs. “First, our relationship being official— finally. Second, is for all the awards you won last Monday. And then we can celebrate for the Super Bowl.” Joe summarizes as he started nipping at the flesh of your neck.

You trembled from the feelings of desire coursing though your body as you continued listening to Joe who’s hands were now inside your dress, however, he simply continued caressing your thighs, teasing you. “How are we gonna celebrate then, Joey?” you released a shaky breath earning a chuckle from your boyfriend, his laugh feeling like vibrations from your back.

“Three celebrations— which means we can start with my fingers, then my mouth, then I’ll finish you off on my cock, how about that, huh?” You physically shook in response, struggling to get a word out.

Your hands pressed against the base of his forearms as Joe moved you with him to sit on the edge of the bed with you now placed on his lap, your back still pressed against his front.

“I asked you a question, lovebug.” Joe’s stern voice entered your ear as he playfully nipped at it causing you to clench your thighs together.

“I- I think I’d like that very much, Joey.” You managed to muster out as you closed your eyes, leaning your head back towards Joe’s shoulder while he continued to caress your body.

“Good girl.”

Good God, you were gonna pass out— you just unlocked Pandora’s box.

A surge of need and confidence surge in you, you turned around to face Joe slowly, now holding his gaze. Your eyes were dark with passion as you kissed him deeply, your tongues dancing together. Joe’s hands slid down your arms, over your breasts and back down to your waist.

His hands gripped your hips as he pulled you even closer to him. His tongue pushed deeper into your mouth as his lips crushed against yours. “Fuck, I wanted you the second your eyes caught mine when you were singing the National Anthem.” he confessed which shocked you considering that was the very first time you laid your eyes on each other— Joe wanted you from the get-go.

Joe broke away from the kiss only to stare into your eyes again. He looked deep into your eyes as if searching for something. He smiled as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, "I've been wanting you since the moment I saw you." Joe repeated once more as he saw your reaction to his statement— you felt your pussy throb in anticipation.

You bit your lip as you tried to compose yourself. "Well, we're not going to waste any time, are we?" you asked seductively as you looked up at Joe with doe eyes.

Joe chuckles darkly at your change in attitude, “No, we’re definitely not.”

Joe pushes your body down onto the bed as kneeled down between your parted legs. His baby blue eyes now darken with lust as he watches you— teasingly he kisses your thighs all the way back up to your lips as he rips your tight dress off your body, leaving you in your underwear that Joe immediately rips off of you as well.

“Joe! I liked that dress!” you gasped and lightly glared at the blonde.

“I’ll buy you a whole damn clothing store— don’t worry.” Joe grunts as he eyed your now naked body before undressing himself.

His hands caress your body as he moves them over your stomach and up to your breasts. Joe leans in and sucks on one of your nipples causing you to moan loudly. His hand moves to the other breast as he begins to squeeze it, pinching the hard nipple between his thumb and index finger. You squirm under him as you feel yourself dripping in anticipation.

Joe takes his hand away from your breast grabs your leg and lifts it up so that he can push your knees apart. You feel his hot breath on your pussy as he licks your clit. You moan loudly as you feel his tongue probe your pussy. His tongue flicks against your pussy lips causing you to shudder.

Joe uses two fingers to spread your pussy open as he begins to tongue fuck your pussy. The sensation is incredible as his tongue works its magic on your clit. You close your eyes as you begin to lose control. Your body shakes as you orgasm from his talented tongue. Joe moves his tongue out of your pussy as he looks up at you— watching you with narrowed eyes.

He smiles as he sees the look of pure ecstasy on your face. "You taste so good." he says as he moves his head back down to your pussy. Joe licks and sucks your pussy as his fingers slide inside of you.

He starts to finger fuck you as he licks your clit before spitting on it. He pulls his fingers out of your pussy and brings them to your mouth. "Taste how wet you are." he demands as he slides his fingers inside of your mouth. You suck on his fingers as you taste your own juices. You moan softly as you feel another orgasm building. Joe continues to lick your pussy as he slides a third finger into you.

He fucks you with his fingers slowly as he licks your pussy. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and slides them back inside of you. "You like that?" he asks as he fucks you faster. "Yes, please don't stop." you begged.

Joe smirked as he picks up the pace. You feel your orgasm coming closer as he fucks you harder. You grab hold of the sheets as your whole body begins to shake. Joe slows down as he feels you cumming.

You bite your lip as you feel your orgasm subsiding. Joe looks up at you as he continues to slowly finger fuck you. "Do you want me to stop?" he asks. "No, no, keep fucking me. I want more.” you reply.

You were addicted.

Joe climbs on top of you and kisses you deeply. You kiss him back as you feel his cock rubbing against your pussy. You wrap your legs around his waist as he pushes his cock deep inside of you. You moan as he enters you fully. Joe thrusts his cock in and out of your pussy. You wrap your arms around his neck as he fucks you. You moan loudly as you feel another orgasm building. Joe reaches down and rubs your clit as he fucks you.

"Oh god yes!" you scream as you explode in another orgasm. Joe continues to fuck you as you cum. You feel another orgasm approaching as Joe thrusts into you faster.

Joe didn’t give you enough time to think, he pulls his cock out of your pussy before he grabbed your legs and lifts them over his shoulders. You wrap your arms around his neck as he drives back into you. "Fuck me harder!" you demand. He rolls you over onto your stomach— He spreads your legs apart as he climbs between them. He pushes his cock back inside of you. You moan as he fucks you harder. “I love fucking you." he says as he thrust in you.

"Me too." You moaned as Joe continued to pound into you, drilling you down the bed. “Oh god! I'm gonna cum!" you scream as you explode in another orgasm as Joe finished in you as well.

Joe pulls his cock out of you before getting off of you to lay next to you. You look into his eyes as he smiles. "That was– crazy. You’re crazy" you giggled earning a laugh from your boyfriend who smiles as he wraps his arm around you.

“The whole hotel knows that now.” Joe stated almost smug.

“Joseph Lee Burrow!” You smacked his bare chest as he gave you another heartily laugh, gently tickling your sides. “I’m kidding— we have a private floor, baby.” Joe reassured you.

“You’re fucking shameless.”

“You and me both, pretty girl.”

dividers: @cafekitsune

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @jackkyhughes @h0e4fictionalme-n @queenmendes @rd14 @scoobydoopoo @estapa94 @karmasabitchybitch @literaturelustrr @toterry @fangirl-madz @atticusismybae @stargaryenx @haydee5010 @porter113 @ryiamarie @starrgir1 @flwries @slafgoalskybaby @unsaidjaelinrose @in-my-body-bag @cixrosie @siutforjjmaybank @youn-jo @nobystanderz @bb-swift @buckystwilight @kidrauhlakaperf @kkrenae @catswag22 @hustler-sinner @asparklysoul @kaydesssssssss @97bngchn @dunningz @whiteleoqueen @austinswhitewolf @wickedfun9

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUESTS AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

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#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #dear bunnyboo🏹 #jack hughes #theone🏹 #jack hughes x reader #cincinnati bengals #joe brrr #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow bengals #joe shiesty #joey burrow #joey b #joeburrowxfamous!reader #joseph lee burrow #joeburrowxsinger!reader #ex!jackhughesxsinger!reader #ex!jackhughesxfamous!reader #ex!jackhughes #ex!jackhughesxreader #cheater!jackhughesxreader #cheater!jackhughes #nfl smut #smut

[show-your-fangs]

My trauma from certain chapters of Moments might’ve come up with something for a blurb. I’d die to see Jack expressing himself over not liking Beth and some sort of moment between reader Aaron and Jack where Jack makes it clear that he sees reader as a mother figure which makes Aaron pull his head out of his ass and makes the right chooce IMMEDIATELY for once👀 Or idk maybe not even Beth related but it would be cool to see Jack not wanting to lose another mother figure

I just love my little trio of hotchner boys and reader they’re such a little family I could cry

gosh as much as i am a beth hater, i could not find a way to fit this into moments. however, chapter 24 is literally just domestic fluff so you'll be fed GOOD when it comes out.

here's just a cute little moments au blurb where jack calls reader mom and aaron almost loses it.

This is part one of two Moment AU asks that I thought would go perfectly together.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 788

CW: nothing, just fluff.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

"Can we invite mom to dinner?" Jack's question filled the quiet apartment with a heaviness that Aaron couldn’t quite understand. Haley had just dropped the boy off at his apartment after spending the better part of the week at her place.

"Buddy, I don't think mom wants to come all the way here—” 

“Did I do something wrong?” Jack practically whimpered and Aaron was rendered speechless once more, his brows scrunching further. That just made the poor boy look even more disheartened. His round eyes practically bursting as he tried to figure out what he could’ve possibly done to offend. 

Aaron crossed the room to him in an instant, crouching down to his level as he sat at the dinner table finishing up on some school work. 

“You did nothing wrong, buddy,” he said, gently, making sure that the words settled. “I just don’t think we should ask your mom to come over for dinner when she just spent the week with you.”

“I don’t wanna invite mommy to dinner,” Jack corrected him, as if he’d been correct this entire time and it was his dad who was not getting it. “I wanna invite mom.”

It took Aaron a few seconds to blink away the misunderstanding, confusion twisting into shock. Jack had called you mom, Jack had just…called you mom. A smile crept up on Aaron’s lips, one that Jack matched instantly as he realized his dad had just understood him. 

“Do you want to call mom and invite her to dinner?” he asked the boy and he lit up like never before. Aaron pulled out his phone and immediately called you, putting it on speaker phone and handing the device over to Jack as he returned to the kitchen. 

“Hi, honey,” your voice was warm and inviting and he wanted nothing more than to respond to you, but he wanted to experience your shock, the shock that Jack had just given him, more than anything. 

“Mom!” Jack practically screamed into microphone.

“Hi, angel,” Aaron could hear you stifle a sob and he couldn’t help but tear up with you. 

“Hi!” Jack was too hyper, getting any words in difficult. “Dad’s making dinner!”

“What’s he making?”

“Dad!” Aaron couldn’t help the laugh that erupted, so much screaming, so much energy. He walked out of the kitchen and took the phone from the boy, turning off speakerphone before he addressed you.

“He’s making boxed Mac n Cheese with hot dogs,” Aaron replied, a smile in his voice. 

“Aaron—” you sobbed into his ear.

“I know, he got me too.”

“Did you know?”

“No,” he chuckled. “But I definitely do now.”

“Dad, give me back the phone!” Jack whined, pulling on Aaron’s arm until he could press his mouth to the microphone once more. “Can you come to dinner, please?” 

He stretched out that last word until he was gasping for breath, making both you and Aaron laugh. 

“Yes, angel, I’ll be there in a second, alright?” 

“Mmkay!” 

“I’ll see you soon, mom,” Aaron teased.

“I’m fully sobbing at a red light, just so you know,” you tried to make him feel bad but it honestly didn’t matter. Jack saw you as his mom, and nothing could take that away from you.

“I love you,” Aaron said. 

“I love you too.”

Jack was engrossed in his worksheet once he finally hung up the phone. Aaron watched him for a second, how his tongue stuck out of his mouth while he concentrated, how he gripped the pencil in his hand like it would somehow slip away, how all of his things had spread out across the table as if he quite literally owned the place. 

Jack had that effect on people, that easy way of taking over someone's heart in a way that only you could do as well. Aaron had been sure from the first time he introduced the two of you that you were soulmates, that he was meant to bring the two of you together.

Jack loved you so much it was overwhelming at times, his own kid clearly trying to one up him at every turn. But it didn't matter, Aaron knew Jack was your favorite, even if you constantly reassured him that you loved both your boys equally.

“Would you like her to be your mom forever?” He asked. 

Jack nodded enthusiastically, pencil dropping and attention back to his dad. “And ever and ever.”

Aaron smiled brightly, fully, like the sun had taken control of him and he couldn’t stop. It was a silent promise, a definitive choice, a reminder of the small velvet box he’d hidden in the back of his closet a few days ago.

“Do you want to help me ask her?”

jack is my perfect child and i would kill for him

requests are still open for hotch and i am trying to get to the ones i've received. it's taking me a second because of just how many other open projects i've got, but trust me, they will get done.

tags: @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner, @criminalskies, @xladyxdreamer

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #show your fangs writes #show your fangs hotch blurbs #show your fangs moments au

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen: Wembley

Plot: After a devastating blow is dealt to Y/n and Keeley, Jamie invites Y/n to join him for his England debut.

Word Count: 6.4k

Warning: f!reader, language, alcohol, allusion to smut

A/N: GUYS WE HAVE ARRIVED. I had to take an unexpected month break because I was just burning out. Thanks to all of you for staying patient and being so kind. But y’all, I’ve been looking forward to this chapter for a long time. I won’t say too much or else I’ll say everything so relax, sit back, and enjoy 💖

——————

Y/n wasn’t sat at her desk refreshing her inbox every fifteen seconds.

Absolutely not.

She wasn’t.

Except she was.

She knew full well that Ted had the list of which Greyhounds would be playing during international break. She could pop downstairs and probably hear the announcement. But it wasn’t her place to barge in on the boys’ moment. And that was fine with her. Totally fine.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she mumbled, waiting for the league’s PR department to end her suffering.

Finally, it arrived.

Y/n leaned closer to her laptop screen and flew past the pleasantries. The names…

She exclaimed something between a gasp and a scream.

Without another thought, she leapt out of her chair, flew through the hall and down the stairs. Luckily, the team was just heading out for practice.

“Let’s go, Greyhounds!” Y/n cheered, an echoing chorus following.

She hugged and congratulated Colin, Dani, Van Damme and Bumbercatch, all of them giddily accepting her thanks. Y/n had a new appreciation for each of the Greyhounds after observing so many training sessions. They put their hearts and soul into their craft and deserved every bit of their success.

As the boys headed out to the pitch, Y/n stayed in the hall, waiting for one player in particular to emerge.

Finally, Jamie came out of the locker room nearly bursting with joy.

As if she could feel the air change, Y/n spun around, grinning. The two of them collided in a crushing embrace, Jamie lifted her off the ground.

“Oh my gosh,” she squealed into his shoulder, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Jamie said. He’d taken an extra long minute fixing himself for training. He’d heard Y/n’s voice in the hall congratulating the lads and wanted to share his own moment with her away from everyone else.

He finally set her down, giving Y/n the chance to properly face him. “Jamie,” she bounced a little, gripping his shoulders, “England. Fucking England.”

Jamie laughed, still holding onto her hips.

“Fucking England,” she said once more, looking him over proudly, “This is amazing.”

They stood there, inches away from being back in each other’s arms, til Ted and Beard’s distant voices grew closer. They dropped their hands just as the coaches came out of their office.

“Hey, Y/n,” Ted greeted as he walked past. Beard nodded.

“Hey,” she smiled.

Jamie shot her an apologetic look as he trailed after them, wishing nothing more than to stay in the hall, just the two of them. Y/n smiled at him once more, sending him off with something he could hold to the rest of the day.

A 10-game streak, a stacked international break…somewhere months ago, Y/n would have been waiting for the other shoe to drop. A plane to fall out of the sky. Some natural disaster to hit.

No, all was well. And it felt damn good.

—————————

It all came crashing down a few days later.

Keeley and Y/n had met for a morning coffee before work. Keeley was back to her normal self, post-leak and post-Jack. Y/n was glad for it, the universe felt unbalanced if Keeley wasn’t her usual sunshiny self.

At the KJPR office, they waited for the elevator. Once it arrived, a casually dressed man pushed a dolly of boxes past them.

“Didn’t know anyone was moving out,” Y/n commented as they got in the car.

“Me neither,” Keeley replied.

The doors opened on their floor and they exited, coming around the corner only to nearly get clipped by two movers with a couch.

“Shit!” Keeley exclaimed, grabbing Y/n’s arm as they jumped out of the way.

Y/n eyed the rest of the room. All the desks were covered in boxes and most of their furniture had disappeared.

“Keeley…” she said lowly.

Dan, a man Y/n had only met properly once or twice, walked up to them. He was carrying a box of desk supplies in both hands.

“Keeley,” he addressed, “You are the nicest boss I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you, Dan,” Keeley replied, brows knitted in confusion.

“And definitely the hottest,” he finished.

“That’s a complicated compliment.”

Dan left with a thanks, moving past the two women.

“What…” Y/n trailed off.

Keeley led them to Barbara’s office, who was also packing up her desk.

“Barbara, what’s going on?” Keeley asked, “Are we being slowly robbed?”

“Oh,” Barbara ceased her packing, “Wait, I’m sorry. You haven’t spoken with Jack?”

“I haven’t heard from Jack in weeks.”

Barbara stammered, “But she emailed me last night to say that she was gonna reach out and tell you.”

Y/n’s stomach clenched with familiar dread.

“Tell me what, Barbara?” Keeley asked.

Barbara, for all the grief she’d given Keeley, didn’t appear to take any pleasure in delivering the news. She had to steady herself even. “The board of the VC have decided to pull funding. They’re shutting down KJPR.”

Y/n’s breath left her chest.

“What?” Keeley whispered, “When?”

“Oh, well, don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of time,” Barbara reassured, “We don’t have to be out till Friday.”

Keeley was barely audible, “It’s Wednesday.”

Barbara faltered, “Yeah, I suppose that is…quite soon, isn’t it? Especially if you didn’t get an email last night.”

When there was nothing else to say, Barbara awkwardly went back to packing her things, leaving Keeley and Y/n dumbstruck.

Somehow, Y/n made her feet move out of the office and into the main space. Her head was spinning. It had taken less than a minute to crack her world open and split it in two.

“I need a minute,” Keeley mumbled.

Too stunned to reply, Y/n wandered off into the conference room. The table and chairs were still there, she sunk into one of them.

As one of the employees, Y/n should have gotten an email like anyone else. The only factor that could have changed that was Keeley. Jack knew they worked closely together, they could be considered friends. If this was revenge on Keeley for their break-up, Jack wouldn’t hesitate to take it out on those closest to her ex. And just like that…Y/n became collateral damage.

She rested her elbows on the table, running her hands over her face. The first job she’d ever loved, and it was gone. Every part of working for AFC Richmond that she adored, had just been taken from her. No more training, no more time with the fans, no more overseeing pressers and interviews, no more coming down the hall and seeing the boys…

The tears came quick.

A few moments later, Keeley knocked on the door and entered at Y/n’s mumbled ‘yeah.’ Both women had wet eyes and snot under their noses.

“I’m so sorry,” Keeley managed over the lump in her throat.

Y/n sniffled, her hands covering most of her face. If she was being honest, there was a small part of her that resented Keeley. Never get involved with someone from work, that was corporate 101.

“Me too,” she replied. Regardless of her bad judgement, Keeley hadn’t deserved to lose the company. She wasn’t the one at fault.

Keeley took the chair next to Y/n’s, feeling like a stray tree in the wind. Swaying, ready to break at the slightest gust.

The very thought of what had to be said sent a stabbing pain through Y/n’s gut.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll pack up my things this weekend. At Richmond.”

Keeley didn’t think she could handle any more, but knowing that Y/n was losing the place that made her happiest just worsened the blow.

“Thank you,” Y/n whispered, “For…coming up to me in that bar.”

It was that sentiment that sent Keeley back over the edge, the gentle sobs returning. On cue, Y/n’s followed and the two of them twisted to grip each other’s hands, sitting knee to knee. They mourned all they had built, together and apart.

—————————

Eight months after her last sacking, Y/n was in the exact same position: sat at a bar, drinking a glass of red wine.

This time, the bar was her flat. Being anywhere around people sounded horrifying. She was content to wallow in the apartment she already feared she’d have to give up.

Unlike the other times she’d been let go, Y/n couldn’t bear to think about the next steps. The minute she’d told Keeley she’d get her things from Nelson Road, she’d banished the thought. She couldn’t bear the thought, the pain of telling the boys, Rebecca, Ted…of leaving the parking lot for the last time. Every time her mind began to try and think practically, she took another sip of the merlot.

The depressing silence was broken up by a ring of her doorbell. Y/n let her head drop as she dragged herself off the barstool. She couldn’t come up with the name of a single person she wanted to see at the moment.

Trudging down the last of the stairs, she looked through the peephole, seeing a familiar mop of mussed up hair and sharp cheekbones.

Y/n quickly wiped under her eyes, praying her waterproof mascara had done its job. If she wasn’t ready to tell anyone the news, Jamie was in a category of his own. The thought of not seeing him every day was crippling.

She opened the door, Jamie flashing a smile as soon as he laid eyes on her.

“Hey,” Y/n grinned thickly, “I thought you were supposed to be up in Stafford.”

“Yeah, just got back,” Jamie glanced back to the street where his car was parked.

“How was it?”

“Fucking,” Jamie shut his eyes, still beaming, “Mental.”

Y/n genuinely chuckled. At least one of them was doing well. “That’s great.”

“Yeah,” Jamie finally got a good look at Y/n. Her face was drawn, despite her smile. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and her gaze was distant, despite being zeroed in on him. “You alright?”

Y/n thinned her lips in an exaggerated frown and shrugged, “Yeah, fine.”

Jamie wasn’t convinced, “You sure?”

Clearly months out of practice from hiding her feelings had left her skills dulled. Y/n sighed, leaning up against the doorframe, “It’s just been a long fucking day.”

“What happened?” Jamie’s brows knitted in worry.

“Nothing specific,” Y/n lied straight through her teeth, “Just tired.”

Jamie nodded, slightly assured that he could move onto the reason for his visit.

“Well, hey, I think I can cheer you up,” he took a breath as if preparing for something big. “Come with me to the match.”

Y/n tilted her head, “What?”

“The Wembley match. They’re puttin’ us up in a hotel tomorrow night, and the game’s on Friday,” Jamie explained, hope glistening in his eyes, “Come with me.”

If they were discussing some random away game, Y/n wouldn’t have thought anything of it. But this…this was England. This was something Jamie had dreamed of since he was a child. This meant everything to him, and he wanted her to share it with him. Y/n didn’t take a word of it lightly.

“I can get ya an extra room,” Jamie took her stunned silence as doubt, “I’ll tell ‘em I need my publicist with me.”

“I don’t think being the club’s publicist gets me that kind of privilege,” Y/n tried to ignore the ache in her chest. That title didn’t belong to her anymore.

“Does if you’re with me,” Jamie smirked.

Y/n chortled, “Right. I’m rolling with the big dogs. Forgot.”

“Look,” Jamie took a step closer, his hands resting in the space between them, nearly reaching out to her. “I really want you there. Really.”

There was a softness to Jamie’s stare that he always saved for Y/n, and a determination he wore any time he stepped on the pitch. If she didn’t want to come, he wouldn’t force her, but he wasn’t going down without fighting his hardest.

Y/n really had no reason to say no. She wouldn’t be at work, she had no commitments…and honestly, getting away sounded nice. To step outside of Richmond for a little while and get some distance before she had to deal with the reality of her situation. And more than anything, she wanted to cheer on Jamie.

“Okay.”

Jamie’s brows shot up, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/n smiled, her first true one of their conversation.

“Great,” Jamie grinned and fiddled with his hands, “Okay, uh, I’ll pick you up tomorrow, 12-ish. Drive over together.”

“I mean, I can drive myself,” Y/n replied, “You don’t need to be picking me up with everything you’ll have going on.”

Jamie shrugged, “I know.” There was no discussion to be had.

“Okay,” Y/n conceded, “I’ll be ready.”

“Okay,” Jamie smiled, awkwardly holding the silence. He didn’t want to let the conversation end, but there was nothing left to say. “Well, uh, I’ll let you get back to your night.”

“Go,” Y/n gestured to the street, “Rest. You’re only representing the whole country.”

He laughed, walking backwards to steal one last glance at Y/n. If someone would have told Jamie that eight months before, his ex-girlfriend’s new hire would end up meaning enough to him to share his England debut with, he wasn’t sure what he’d have thought. But he wouldn’t have believed it. “See ya.”

Y/n gave a small wave, matching his warm smile until the distance forced them to break. She was still neck deep in shit, but for a moment, the sun felt like it was shining.

—————————

Y/n supposed as she packed her overnight bag, that if she forgot anything important, she could just Uber back to her flat. For whatever reason, she was afraid she was leaving something off the list.

The initial excitement she’d felt when Jamie had invited her had long since died. It seemed the depression that set in after losing your job took twenty four hours of fermenting to truly come to life.

She was nearly done packing when she was sorting through a drawer of t-shirts, spotting a brightly colored blue and red one she had tucked at the bottom. She pulled it out and unfolded it.

The jersey Jamie had gifted her for Christmas.

A small smile pulled at her face, remembering the night he’d given it to her. True to her word, she hadn’t worn it to any matches. She couldn’t possibly give him that satisfaction.

Through the insanity that was working at AFC Richmond, there had been many constants. Ted’s awful jokes, Roy’s sour mood, weekly tea with Rebecca…but Jamie had l become the most unexpectedly steady thing in Y/n’s life. A safe place to land in any situation. If it wasn’t for Jamie, she wasn’t sure how she would have made it thus far.

She smiled.

Without a second thought, Y/n folded the jersey back up and tucked it in her suitcase. Jamie was the focus, and she’d amplify his joy however she could.

Her phone pinged with a text alert, the man himself messaging her that he was parked outside. Y/n zipped up her bag, grabbed her purse, and headed downstairs.

Jamie was propped against his car, spinning the keys in his fingers. He supposed he should have felt nervous, twenty four hours away from his England debut, but he felt at peace. He wasn’t entirely sure why until he spotted Y/n’s figure coming down her street.

“Jamie Tartt, do do do do do do,” she sang once she got close enough, “Jamie Tartt, do do do do do do…”

“Lovely,” Jamie chuckled before reaching out for her bag, “Let’s have it.”

“There’d better be room for it,” Y/n handed the suitcase over.

Jamie popped the boot, “How much you think I travel with?”

“I mean, hair products alone has to equate to two carry ons,” Y/n replied, “Jewelry, trainers, socks, that’s another two…the ego’s gotta take up, what, four?”

Jamie shut the boot, leaning on it as he listened. “I’m happy to leave you here. Watch the match on Sky Sports.”

“Sorry, too late,” Y/n smirked as she rounded the car, Jamie met her on the passenger side. The two of them stood with mere inches between them. “You’re stuck with me, Tartt.”

Their smug smiles melted into something far more warm, the emotional weight of the trip was too overwhelming to be ignored too long.

“Not a bad deal,” Jamie said softly.

“You’re playing for England,” Y/n whispered.

Jamie’s grin spread up his cheeks, reaching to tug Y/n into an embrace. Gentler than the one they’d shared after the news had broke, but matching in enthusiasm.

“Right, gotta get going,” Jamie broke away and went to the driver’s side, “Check-in’s in an hour.”

The traffic they hit made it so they’d arrive just at their appointed time. On the way, Y/n avoided any topic that could tie them back to work, and Jamie recounted a party he’d attended two days before.

“Wait…” Y/n laughed, “You’re telling me that Roy Kent - Roy Kent - has to wear a tie-dye shirt?”

“Swear down,” Jamie replied.

“Roy Kent,” Y/n repeated. The image was too insane to imagine. “Growling-in-the-halls, leather-jacket-wearing, black-coffee, black-clothes, black-everything Roy Kent.”

Jamie nodded.

Y/n fell back against the seat, “I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not playin’ ya,” Jamie laughed, one hand resting comfortably on the steering wheel, “Saw it with me own eyes.”

“And I can’t believe it till I see it with mine,” Y/n shook her head. “So, wait, you left training because Phoebe called you and invited you to a party for a pretend holiday for the man who makes your life a living hell?”

Jamie wasn’t sure how to explain it. How his relationship with Roy had gone from childhood idolization to rivalry to tolerance to mentor/mentee to…something almost, nearly, bordering…friendship? But when he’d gotten the call from Phoebe and her mum, Roy’s niece inviting him to Uncle’s Day, he hadn’t needed to give it a second thought. He’d even taken the time to track down a gift meaningful enough to crack Roy’s stony exterior.

“Dunno,” he shrugged casually, “Didn’t want to disappoint her.”

“Mmm,” Y/n nodded, pretending to buy it, “Nothing to do with the fact that you two are actually…friends?”

Jamie looked out the window, checking the space around them, “Right, you can walk from here.”

Y/n snorted, crossing her arms across her chest. Beyond the teasing, she found it incredibly sweet that Jamie would drop what he was doing not just for Roy, but for Phoebe. It echoed the same kindness he’d shown to Henry when he’d visited. She supposed it came from Jamie’s childhood, the same drive she had to make sure any kid she came across was happier than she’d been at their age.

“It’s cute.”

Jamie quirked a brow as he switched lanes, “What?”

Y/n shrugged, “Jamie Tartt’s got a soft spot for kids.”

The tingling in his chest confused Jamie. But knowing Y/n thought him admirable was…nice.

He played it off, of course, “Haven’t even told you about the play.”

Y/n slapped her hands together, “Oh, please God tell me it was interactive.”

“It was fucking Shakespearean,” Jamie laughed, before launching into the multi-hour long production Phoebe and Roy’s sister had staged.

Once they arrived at the hotel, they checked-in separately. It was an easy way for Y/n to keep herself out of any photo sightings of Jamie and she was extra happy she’d thought it out when some of his teammates arrived. She headed to the elevator while Jamie greeted them, loading into the car. Once he saw she was already off, Jamie rushed through goodbyes to catch the lift with her.

“Right,” Y/n said as they landed on the 10th floor, looking between her key and the door numbers, “I’m 502.”

“507,” Jamie replied, “End of the hall, I think.”

They found Y/n’s room first and paused outside the door.

“Right, so dinner tonight?” Jamie suggested, “I mean, it’ll mostly be me watchin’ you eat, but…”

“Jamie, no,” Y/n screwed her face, “We can have dinner literally any other night. Go be with the team.”

He knew that was what he was expected to do, and part of him wanted to go bond with the boys but…she was here. And as much as he wanted to hang with his teammates, everyone drifted to second priority when Y/n was around.

“You sure?” Jamie asked.

“Yes,” Y/n insisted, reaching out and taking his arm, “Go enjoy this. You earned it. I’m just gonna get room service and get to bed boringly early.”

Jamie chuckled, looking down at the ground. His skin jumped to life under her touch. “Alright,” he smiled up at her, “I got a ticket reserved for you at will call.”

“Okay,” she nodded.

“And…” Jamie searched for something, anything else to say, coming up short, “Yeah. Think that’s it.”

“Hey,” Y/n squeezed his arm, beaming with pride, “You’re gonna kill it.”

Jamie’s smile grew in the way only she could harvest out of him. Something about her belief in him made him feel like he could play the whole fucking match himself.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow,” he said, though he didn’t move.

“See you tomorrow,” Y/n echoed, rubbing his shoulder before breaking apart and unlocking her door. Jamie took it as his cue to drag his own suitcase down the hall, five doors down.

Y/n did a lap around her room, taking stock of where everything was. It was a nice fucking hotel, though she shouldn’t have expected anything else. She set her suitcase in the corner, there was no need to go to the trouble of unpacking for a two night stay.

She dropped onto the edge of the bed. With Jamie off and the room mapped out, there was nothing to do but sit with her thoughts.

Y/n sighed, her chest returned to feeling hollow, knowing this life was about to disappear. No more traveling with the Greyhounds, the endless chatter on long bus rides, her room being sandwiched between two of they boy’s and dealing with their late night shenanigans that typically resulted in a large check being written to the hotel…

She grabbed the bedside phone, dialing the corresponding number on the paper below it. She couldn’t deal with being sad sober or on an empty stomach. “Yes, room service? Can I have a bottle of wine and the chef’s special delivered to room 502? Thank you.”

It was going to be a long night.

——————

The next morning, Y/n took advantage of getting to sleep in on Friday. The game wasn’t until noon, she set her alarm for ten. She ordered breakfast to the room and ate in bed. Sadness went well with pancakes, she found.

Eventually, she got dressed for the match. She smiled to herself as she slipped the ‘#9’ jersey over her tank top. It would be the first, and most likely only opportunity she’d have to wear it.

Wembley was close enough to the hotel that she didn’t bother ordering an Uber, choosing instead to join the crowds and walk. She’d forgotten just how massive the stadium was when she arrived at the ticket booth.

“Hi,” she greeted the guy working will call, “There should be a ticket under the name ‘Y/l/n.’”

The man fished through a few envelopes before reaching into one and slipping a ticket under the glass window. “Enjoy the match, love.”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

It had been years since Y/n had been to Wembley, the last time for a concert fresh off of graduation. She couldn’t remember the section numbers and locations to save her life.

Once she got inside, she found a security guard. “Excuse me? Could you point me towards section…” she read her ticket once more, “120?”

The guard glanced at her ticket before pointing her towards a massive staircase. “All the way down, midfield.”

“Okay,” Y/n headed off, calling back to him, “Thank you.”

She melted into the crowd and followed them down the stairs. She kept looking between her ticket and the descending rows of seats, realizing when she hit the ground that Jamie hadn’t just gotten her a seat…he’d gotten her one in the front row.

Y/n made her way down, past families and groups of friends, finding her seat was on the aisle. It allowed her a perfect view of the field, Jamie would most certainly be able to spot her.

The atmosphere before the match was a welcome cheeriness, Y/n couldn’t help but get caught up in the excitement of it. It was hard to be depressed with 90,000 people around you cheering and singing.

The teams marched out onto the pitch, their respective fans standing and screaming. Y/n was on her feet as soon as England was out, spotting Jamie towards the back. He was on the reserve squad and came out near last. She hoped he would get at least a few minutes on the field.

Jamie was caught up in the moment enough that he didn’t search for Y/n. Knowing she was there was enough.

By the second half of the match, England was up by a point, but Jamie still had yet to get on the pitch. Y/n was fidgeting more with each minute that passed, hoping that this would be the point that #9 would tire out enough and Jamie could sub in.

Finally, it happened. Jamie came off the bench as one of the refs held up the board, announcing Jamie’s arrival and his number. #24.

Y/n pressed a hand to her heart, her lips falling open in a loose smile. It was a hell of statement after their #24 had been passed over for the Nigerian league. But more importantly, it was an incredibly touching gesture. Sam had to have been beaming shyly, wherever he was watching from.

Jamie got onto the pitch and first ended up assisting in one goal. When the clock came down to the last five minutes, he shot across the field, catching the ball from one of his teammates and running it down the pitch.

“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n muttered under her breath, her eyes glued to him. He could make it.

Faking left and spinning around to the right, Jamie power kicked the ball toward the net, evading the goalie and landing a perfect shot.

Y/n shot out of her seat with the rest of the crowd, screaming as loud as she could.

Jamie looked pleased, his nearest teammates slapping him across the back in congratulations. He turned to the crowd and grinned, soaking in the moment he’d been waiting for since he was a kid. The whole stadium was cheering for him.

His eyes floated to section 120, finding the furthest seat and the woman occupying it. Their eyes met and Jamie caught the unmistakable Greyhound blue underneath her coat, his chest suddenly swelling with something deeper than pride. She’d worn the fucking shirt.

Y/n grinned at him, raising her fists above her head. Jamie patted his chest, just above his heart, smiling right back at her.

England ended up winning, of course, and Y/n felt like she was floating. She couldn’t get up the stairs fast enough, hurrying through the concourses till she found two doors with ample security stood outside.

“Hi,” she said, nearly out of breath, “I work at AFC Richmond. I need to see Jamie Tartt,” Y/n pulled out her phone as she saw the guard inhaling to turn her away, “I have proof of employment.”

She pulled up an email exchange with Higgins and held up her employee ID, matching the signature to the card. The guard nodded, “Come with me.”

Y/n followed down the hall, stopping outside the locker room as the guard instructed her to wait. The commotion inside could be heard all down the hall, chants and cheers from the boys echoing off the walls.

A few seconds later, Jamie emerged, soaked in champagne and sweat.

Neither of them hesitated to launch into one another’s arms, Jamie full on lifting and spinning her around. They were a mess of laughs and squeals and smiles.

“You did it,” Y/n grinned, her arms tight around Jamie’s neck.

“We fucking did it,” he growled happily, still twirling her in the air.

“Jamie,” Y/n laughed as he finally dropped her. She held his face in her hands, “You were incredible. You were fucking amazing.”

Jamie beamed, finally feeling whole. He’d been waiting all day to hug her.

“My gosh,” Y/n smiled, on the verge of tears.

“Not a bad seat either, yeah?” Jamie smiled.

“You just fucking played for England and that’s what you wanna talk about?” Y/n exclaimed as she lightly shoved his chest.

Jamie’s hands fiddled agaisnt Y/n’s waist, the adrenaline from the game still pulsing through. He rubbed the extra material of the shirt, his shirt, between his fingers.

He cocked a brow, “Thought you said you’d never wear this.”

Y/n shrugged playfully, “I had a compelling reason.”

There was enough electricity running through them both without the added crackling of their hands, the pure lightning that was striking between their eyes. It was a moment so full of emotion, if it lasted much longer, it stood the chance to naturally lead to something…

“Oi! Tartt!”

Jamie and Y/n dropped their hands, the outside presence causing embarrassment they didn’t know they felt. Jamie nodded back at one of his teammates, “Yeah?”

“Get the fuck back in here,” he gestured back to the room. The celebration hadn’t stopped in Jamie’s absence.

“Yeah, be in a minute,” Jamie distractedly smiled before turning back to Y/n, “Right-“

“Jamie,” Y/n shook her head, smiling knowingly, “Go. Go celebrate your moment.

He hesitated, truthfully, he didn’t want her to be so encouraging. “Yeah, but we gotta celebrate too,” Jamie reached out for her hands.

“And we will,” Y/n replied, squeezing his palms, “But now, you’re gonna go in there, you’re going to get absolutely shit-faced and create a million horrible headlines for me to issue a million and one apologies for.”

Jamie snorted and stared down at their intwined hands. Half of him was itching to get back in the locker room, the other stayed right where he was.

“Go,” Y/n repeated.

Jamie tugged her back to his chest, the two of them fitting together as perfectly as ever. He was so unbelievably glad she’d said yes to coming. Looking out into the stands, seeing her cheering for him had boosted his spirits in a way nothing else could.

Even as he broke away, he left backwards. “I mean it,” Jamie pointed at her, “We’re fucking celebrating.”

Y/n just laughed and shoved the air, staying till he disappeared back into the locker room. Jamie’s ecstasy was feeding her, the victory lifting them both up sky high. She was so glad she hadn’t turned him down.

The security guard escorted her out to the concourse and she found her way back to the hotel. Each street was echoing with chants and cheers for England, the whole of London was buzzing. It was beautiful.

Y/n got back to her room, turning on the TV to Sky Sports and watching the recap. Jamie, of course, made the conversation, both his goal and his kit number were heavily discussed.

Y/n smiled when Sam’s name came up, pulling her phone out and sending an array of appropriate emojis to the young Nigerian along with his number. He fired back a few red hearts in reply.

Roughly an hour had passed when there was a knock at the door. Y/n slid out of bed confused. She hadn’t ordered dinner yet.

She opened the door to find Jamie, hair combed, showered and out of his kit, leaning against her door frame.

“I thought I told you to go spend time with the team,” Y/n chuckled in surprise.

“I did,” he shrugged, “Now it’s our turn.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t kill the growing grin. She wanted the day to be everything Jamie wanted, but she couldn’t deny the ever-present desire to stay in his field of gravity. If he was here willingly, she wasn’t going to fight him.

She matched his posture and leaned against the frame, “What’d you have in mind?”

“Dinner, club,” Jamie listed off the options, “Go to the top of the Shard, scream as loud as we can.”

Y/n laughed, “I can do that.”

“Good,” Jamie smiled, looking down at his watch, “You got twenty minutes.”

“Clearly you learned nothing dating Keeley,” Y/n scoffed, “Put thirty on the clock.”

“Fine,” Jamie relented, “I’ll be back in thirty minutes exactly. That’s it. Not waitin’.” He couldn’t even pretend to be that strict, a smile contradicting his words.

Y/n gave a two fingered salute, “I’ll be ready.”

She shut the door, hearing him shuffling down the hall. In her suitcase, she’d packed a dress, knowing the chances of Jamie and her going out after was a distinct possibility. She also thought she was crazy to assume that at all. Yet still, she’d gone to the trouble of picking one out, laboring over the choice far longer than it should have taken.

Within thirty minutes, Y/n managed to shower, do her hair and light makeup, slipping into the dress and her sneakers at the twenty-nine minute mark. She gave herself a once over in the mirror, giving herself a pat on the back for exceptional work in such a short time frame.

On cue, there were three knocks at the door.

Y/n grabbed her purse and unlocked the door, Jamie once again stood in waiting.

He wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected when he’d told Y/n they were going out for a night on the town, but whatever it was…wasn’t what he got. Y/n was stunning, gorgeous, in a strappy pink dress, her hair tied up. It was all in stark contrast to how she usually dressed around Nelson Road, all business attire or jeans on a casual day. This was…this was something.

“Wow,” Jamie managed, his eyes running up and down her form.

Y/n took an honest look at Jamie for the first time of the night. His usual floppy hairstyle and headband had been swapped for a blow dry and a neat side swoop. A deep blue dress shirt was unbuttoned a bit further than other men’s and a dark textured blazer layered it, finished with dress pants, actual shoes and a gold chain. He looked good.

“No trainers,” Y/n was lost for anything else to say, “It really is a special occasion.”

Jamie chuckled, still unable to tear his eyes off of her. It was going to get awkward if he didn’t stop soon.

He offered his arm, “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Y/n slipped her arm through Jamie’s and they strolled down the hall.

Once they’d slipped out the lobby, they hailed a cab and Jamie gave the driver an address. They arrived at a five star rooftop restaurant and bar and made their way to a table, the thumping music and chatter of the weekend crowd enveloping them. A fair amount of the other patrons were celebrating England’s victory heartily.

“Look at this,” Y/n smiled, a group of people excitedly describing the game as they passed their table, “You did this.”

“Wasn’t just me,” Jamie replied.

“Yeah, but you were part of it,” Y/n corrected, shaking her head, “Jeez, Jamie…you scored a fucking goal.”

“I did, yeah,” Jamie grinned and admitted, walking the line between humility and cockiness as only he could.

Y/n waited a moment, admiring the joy in Jamie’s eyes as his eyes followed the fans. It was childlike, pure and wild.

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna wear #24,” she eventually said.

Jamie nodded, “Just felt right. It’s mad they didn’t pick him.”

“It is,” Y/n agreed, looking out at the darkening London sky, wondering how Sam was actually holding up. “But that was brave, wearing it. Like you were giving whoever didn’t choose him the middle finger.”

He chortled, his eyes lingering on her longer and longer each time they found her. Jamie was losing the battle to look away.

Y/n was the first to drop her gaze. Like always, there were ghosts dining with them. She’d been itching with concern for Jamie all day, but hadn’t said anything.

“So…how was it being back? At Wembley?”

Jamie caught the meaning instantly, it wasn’t exactly far from his mind. As much fun as he’d had, being back in the locker room had inevitably triggered unpleasant memories.

“Bit weird,” Jamie admitted, “But…I don’t know. I think I was too distracted to think about it too much.”

“That’s good,” Y/n gently smiled, “Of course, now I’ve brought it up and…”

Jamie reached out and took her hand reassuringly, “And nothing.”

Y/n’s lips tugged upwards slightly, squeezing Jamie’s palm.

A horribly timed interruption caused them both to have to tear his gaze away, the waiter returning with their drinks. He took them both and handed Y/n hers.

“Alright,” she scooted forward in her seat, “What’re we drinking to?”

Jamie sighed, thinking a moment, “Well, to me, obviously,” he got a laugh out of Y/n, “To the team. To England. To Richmond,” he swallowed, “To you.”

Y/n raised a brow, “To me?”

“Yeah,” Jamie smiled coyly, “You comin’ here, cheering me on. Knowing you were there…”

The humor of the moment was gone entirely, replaced by sweet sentiment. Jamie and Y/n’s friendship had come to mean more to them than they could have guessed that first night in Sam’s restaurant. Or the time they’d run into each other at the Crown and Anchor, spending an hour pouring over apartments for Y/n. They had become each other’s north star. They were a part of one another, reflecting the best of each other back.

“To having a good night,” Jamie continued, unable to finish his last thought, “And not worrying about anything. Not thinking about anything. Just celebrating.”

Not all of the time they spent together was so serious, but one of the basis of Y/n and Jamie’s bond was their mutual pain. So many of their conversations somehow traced back to her parents, his dad, how they were the way they were because of their failures. Not to mention, Y/n had the news of KJPR’s shutdown weighing on her back. She’d have to break the news to Jamie come morning.

But tonight, tonight was a night for none of it. They would drink, they would laugh, and they would revel in Jamie’s accomplishment.

Y/n clinked her glass against Jamie’s. “To not thinking.”

And that’s exactly what they did. They didn’t think as they ordered a second round of drinks.

Or a third.

They didn’t think as they went to a club, pulling one another close to dance.

They didn’t think as they giggled their way back to their hotel.

And they certainly didn’t think as they stumbled into Y/n’s room, a collision of roaming hands and eager lips.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #keeley jones x reader #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #heartfirst

[ganymede-princess]

A Hazy Shade of Winter | Angus Tully

PART 2

ship: Angus Tully x fem!OC

warnings: Angus is literally so mean, but he's like that in the movie anyways.

summary: Carol's parents send her to spend the winter break with her uncle at Barton Academy, and a certain curly-haired boy takes an immediate (dis)liking to her.

word count: 2790

a/n: I watched the Holdovers like 2 nights ago and I’m obsessed with it now so here’s this! Maybe a second chapter coming?

written by @ganymede-princess

Misery. Absolute fucking misery. That’s all Angus could see for the foreseeable future. Just an ocean of black, sticky misery, stretching out to the horizon in every direction. As he settled his bony rear on the hard edge of the ping-pong table and listened to Hunham gleefully dole out their sentences, he thought he would vomit any moment, or drop dead. He kind of hoped he would. He scoured his eyes over the pitiful creatures he’d be bunking with this winter break; two little boys: a religious fanatic and a foreign exchage student, the school’s star quaterback, and fucking Kountze. Five little Christmas orphans. Angus would blame karma, if he believed in that hippy-dippy shit. The most unbelievably unfair part of all this was that he wouldn’t even be able to jack off in peace since all five of them would be bunking in rooms one and two of the infirmary, with Hunham in room four. God knows why they couldn’t use room three, but Hunham seemed determined to avoid any questions pertaining to that.

Just when he thought his holiday couldn’t get any worse, the girl arrived. She skittered in like a mouse, out of breath, red-faced and shaking like a handbag dog. Six little Christmas orphans.

“Ah, you’re here.” Hunham extended his hand welcomingly, and gestured to her to step forward.

She crept over, giving the ping-pong table and couch full of boys a wide berth, then nervously shook Hunham’s hand and scuttled away to sit on the floor and tuck her knees up under the frumpy men’s jumper that swallowed her whole, like a turtle retreating into a shell. She waved at the five of them, cherry lips curling into a tight smile.

“Is that a girl?” Kountze said, loudly.

“Indeed, it is. Students, this is Miss Carol Hunham, my niece. She will be joining us at Barton for the winter break.”

“Teddy Kountze.” The little freak said, practically falling over himself to shake her hand. He looked ridiculous crouching there beside her like he was about to accost a rabbit at a petting zoo. If brown-nosing was a sport, he’d be a world classer. “Wonderful to meet you. If you need a tour guide, come to me. I know this place like the back of my hand.”

She nodded in thanks, regarding him with huge puppydog eyes. Angus thought she must be dumb or tongueless. Five-foot-nothing, wearing unfashionably tapered plaid pants and Chelsea boots that were all the rage a decade ago, huge turtle-shell glasses that made her brown eyes bulge out of her head like a salmon… the only cool thing about her was her dirty blonde shag haircut, but even that came across as trying too hard. With that, and those round cheeks and fat mushroom of a nose, Angus almost expected to hear Hunham introduce her as his niece. Almost.

“You’ll be taking her nowhere without a chaperone, Mr Kountze. Now, gentlemen, and lady, off you go to the infirmary building.” Hunham’s one good eye roved over the room, then settled on Angus. “Mr Tully.” He addressed him in his weasley way, voice dripping with schadenfreude. "Be a gentleman and help Miss Hunham take her bags to room three."

Now it made sense why they'd been forced to leave it empty. The little fuck had a whole room to herself.

"I'm not a gentleman." He responded, insolently as possible.

"Then play the part."

"Fine." The ping-pong table screeched backwards as he stood up, grabbed his case and stormed over to the girl who leaped to her feet, eyeing him warily as he marched her out of the room and collected one of her ridiculously heavy suitcases and set off outside with the puppy in tow.

"Um." She began, her voice a pathetic whimper. "I'm Carol Hunham."

"I heard."

"And you?"

"Angus Tully. Are you deaf or something?"

"He d-didn't say your first name." Angus grunted in response. "So, you're- you're holding over?"

"What?" The question was so insipid it made him stop in his tracks and gawk at her. "Of course I'm holding over! Are you stupid?"

"Sorry." She whispered, averting her eyes. Angus felt a rush of regret as her lip trembled, but he swallowed it and marched on.

The air was biting cold, and Angus wished he had two jackets on- or better yet, a hot-blooded model on each arm- but unfortunately he was stuck between this girl making goo-goo eyes at Kountze and her machiavellian gargoyle of an uncle. As the rest of them caught up, his simmering rage suddenly bubbled over and he broke the silence in a voice thick with hatred.

“This is the most bullshit ever! If we have to stay, why’d we have to draw Wall-eye?”

“Uh, y’know he used to be a student, right?” Quaterback drawled.

“Yeah, that’s why he knows how to inflict maximum pain on us, the sadistic fuck.”

“Yeah.” Quaterback agreed with a giggly laugh. “I mean, no offence Hunham, but your uncle sucks.”

“I don’t know him.” The girl had retreated to the fringe of the group, and when she spoke up her voice didn’t command much attention.

“At least we didn’t draw Decker, he’d be perving all over us.” Kountze sidled up alongside her and let his arm brush against her. “And we wouldn’t have Carol here with us.”

Angus rolled his eyes, but felt vindicated when he noticed her pull away from him, almost fearfully.

“Hey, guys, hold up for a second.” Angus leaned up against the pickup at the side of the road and lit up a cigarette, eager to relieve all this tension.

“No, I got something else.” Kountze pulled out a stinking doobie and gestured for his lighter. “Gimme that.”

“Hey, don’t smoke that out here.” He chided. “I don’t wanna get busted by Wall-eye.”

“Don’t be such a pussy.”

“I’m not a pussy.” Angus felt his blood pressure rise. “I just don’t want to get up at Fork Union paying for your mistake.”

Kountze didn’t bother responding, just blew out a fat drag and smiled in satisfaction.

“Teddy Kountze.” He said, offering the joint to Quaterback and trying to sling an arm around Carol but she sidestepped him to Angus’s amusement.

“Jason Smith.” Quaterback responded with a sickeningly charismatic smile.

“Yeah, I know who you are.” Fucking bootlicker. “You wanna hit this?”

He cast a glance up the road, but Wall-eye was nowhere to be seen. “Uh, yeah.” 

He took a puff and offered it to Carol.

“No, thanks.” She held up her mittened hand. “I-I hear pot can give you the heebie-jeebies.”

“The heebie-jeebies.” Jason repeated, grinning. “Cute.”

She was sort of cute- Angus begrudgingly admitted now that he’d seen her up close- in that pitiful way that those fucked up little pug-dogs are cute. He wondered if she had asthma. Besides, it’s not like he cared. At least, if somebody like her could be cute, maybe he was too, with his hawkish nose, narrow eyes, five o’clock shadow, gangly limbs, scraggly hair… No, that’s ridiculous. Unless… He wondered if she thought he was.

“It’s mellow stuff, babe.” Kountze assured her.

She blushed and shook her head, then turned her massive obsidian orbs to Angus.

“C-can I…?”

He sighed heavily, arranging his face into a scowl before he handed over the cigarette. She took a dainty puff, then handed it back. He took a drag himself, savouring the knowledge that his lips were touching the same place that a girl’s had just rested.

“More?” He offered it back.

“No, thanks. I don’t really… y’know.”

“‘Course you don’t.” He scoffed and stuffed it back in his mouth. “Such a pristine girl, I bet you never did anything wrong in your life.”

Flushing, she averted her eyes.

“So, how’d you get stuck holding over?” Kountze queried, his demeanor forced casual.

“I’m supposed to be skiing with my folks up at Haystack,” Jason said cheerfully. “But my dad put his foot down, said I can’t come home unless I cut my hair.”

“So why don’t you just cut your hair?” Angus snorted, feeling a fresh rush of anger. How could you throw away a perfectly good winter break just because you’re sentimentally attached to your godamn freak flag?

“Civil disobedience, man.” He grinned.

“I dig it.” Carol spoke up suddenly. “Conformity is a dangerous thing.”

“See, she gets it.” Jason put his arm around her shoulder.

“You like Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young?” Her blonde lashes fluttered as she gazed up at him. Angus could have puked all over the sidewalk, and Kounze looked like he might actually do it.

“Man, I love ‘em!”

“Almost Cut My Hair?”

“My anthem.” He nodded solemnly. “That album was my whole life last summer.”

“Neat.”

Angus noticed her head tilt to rest on his shoulder as he offered her the joint. This time she took it, allowing herself a long drag. He gritted his teeth and fought off the urge to deck that filthy hippy then and there.

“Anyway,” Jason waved his hand, as if clearing the conversational slate. “My dad’s cool. It’s just a battle of wills. Still, I was kinda hoping he’d cave first, because the powder up at Haystack is so sweet right now.”

Jason’s hand made its way into Carol’s hair, curling a lock of it around his finger. Angus’s fist closed involuntarily while Kountze’s eyes narrowed as he looked around, lip slightly curled in frustration.

“What about you, Mr Moto?” He said, locking onto his target. “Why are you here?”

“Uh, no. My name is Ye-Joon.” The boy explained innocently. “Uh, my family is in Korea, and they think it’s too far for me to travel alone.”

“I figured it was because your rickshaw was broken.” Kountze laughed and looked around for approval, to which he found none.

“Uh, wh-what’s a rickshaw?” Ye-Joon seemed genuinely baffled.

“You’re an asshole, Kountze.” Angus said darkly. “Your mind’s a cesspool, and a shallow one at that.”

“Who’s the asshole, Tully?” He sneered back. “You’re the one who blew up history.”

“Hey.” Jason held out his hand gently, then turned to the other kid. “What’s your story, man?”

“Alex Ollerman.” He responded, his voice stronger than the other boy’s. All that faith in a higher power, I guess. “I’m here because my parents are on a mission in Paraguay. We’re LDS.”

“Mormons, right?” The kid nodded proudly.

“Don’t you guys wear some kind of, like, magic underwear?” Kountze gawped.

“That’s a common misconception.” Alex began. It seemed he had all his bases covered, and he turned to address the Korean kid too, as if he might convince someone to join. “Actually, it’s called a temple garment, and we’re only supposed to wear it when we-”

“Hey, what’s up with the townies?” Kountze interrupted, already distracted by something shiny. Angus was mildly relieved he wouldn’t be hearing any more panty-talk- he’d had quite enough for one day, what with his bathing suit and all- but, his relief quickly turned to annoyance when he noticed the two men coming down the road, hauling a Christmas tree between them.

“Hey!” He hollered. “What are you doing with our Christmas tree?”

“The school sold it back to us.” One of them responded. “Scotch pine, still fresh.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna put it back in the lot.” The other explained. “We do it every year.”

Angus turned back to the group and shook his head darkly.

“This is the most bullshit ever.”

______________________________

Angus didn’t think he’d ever be so happy to be in the infirmary, but when they stepped into the heated building, he might have sighed in relief if he wasn't in such a black mood. His arms absolutely caned from carrying that stupid suitcase, and Kountze had been smack talking the whole way up the hill. He thought the only thing worse than bunking with the two kids would be sleeping in with Kountze while he tries to tickle Jason’s balls. He’d much prefer to cosy up in the girl’s room, irritating as her face may be. He abandoned his luggage outside room two and hauled Carol’s down the hallway while she pattered along at his heels.

"Why do you need two cases, anyway?" He sneered, stealing the comfort of silence. "You can't have that much shit to carry."

"It's-" She paused and cleared her throat. "Well... well, why should I tell you, huh? You're- you're-"

"What? An asshole? A jerk? A philistine, as your mole uncle says? Y’know, I'm pretty sure there's a faculty rule against targeted insults towards pupils."

"You're mean." She admitted in a small voice. "And I don't know why."

"Yeah, well get used to it sweetheart. Just wait till Kountze gets over your gyno-gimmick and starts treating you like he does everyone else, you'll be begging for 'mean.' And by the way, you’re just antagonising him by hanging all over Jason all the time.”

“What’s Jason got to do with it?” She snapped, raising her voice for the first time.

“Aw, I hit a nerve, huh?” He delighted in watching her face turn scarlet.

"Y-y'know, when you stood up for Ye-Joon earlier, I thought you might actually be cool. I'm disappointed."

She said nothing else, just ducked her head and ran ahead to open the door for him. Baffled, he barged past her and dumped the suitcase on the nearest bed.

“Thanks.” She whispered.

"Why are you even here, anyway?" He rounded on her, suddenly tired of the way she let him walk all over her. "I mean, other than to ruin the ambience with that hideous sweater-"

That did it. She let out a choking sob and made for the door.

"Hey, hey wait!" He flailed out his long limbs and caught her around the arm, but she wrenched herself from his grip and made off down the hall, away from Hunham and the other boys to Angus' relief. "Carol, wait I didn't mean it."

She didn’t respond, just sped off and careened around the corner. Angus caught up just in time to see the door of the broom closet swing shut. He clucked his tongue and sat down on the hard floor outside, feeling a wave of disgust as he listened to quiet weeping. Gently, he rapped the door with his knuckles.

“Carol?”

“Go away.”

“Carol, I’m sorry.”

“Go away!”

He paused for a moment, and considered his options.

“Your sweater isn’t actually ugly, by the way. I was just ribbing you, y’know? Horseplay?”

“No.” She said firmly, voice muffled through the wood. “No, I know ribbing and that wasn’t it. Y-you were being cruel, and you wanted to see me cry, I know it.”

“What? No!”

“You enjoy it, don’t you? You’re so miserable, the only fun left for you is making everyone else feel as wretched as you.”

He swallowed thickly, feeling a lump of shame coating his Adam’s apple. He took another long moment to collect himself. He resented how easily she read him, but if he wanted to keep her from finking, he’d have to choose his words carefully, and eat a large portion of his pride.

“It’s true.” His stomach roiled in revulsion as he grovelled to her. “I’m sore about holding over, and I wanted to take it out on someone, and you looked like easy pickings. I’m brash, I’m rude, I hate everyone including myself, and I make it everyone else’s problem.”

She paused her sniffling, as if sizing him up.

“Well.” She said thickly. “Thank you for admitting it. That was very… self reflective.”

“I go to a shrink, I kind of have to be self reflective.”

“Ah.” She sniffled. “You can leave me alone now.”

“I would,” Oddly, it felt good to tell somebody… Good enough that he was able to go back to being sly. “But this closet doesn’t open from the inside. Every time we get a new janitor they get locked in here. Happens like twice a year.” She said nothing, but Angus heard her breathing pick up in pace. “I mean, I can always leave you in here.”

“No!” She said urgently. “Let me out, please.”

“I will, if you promise not to fink.”

“I-I won’t fink. If you leave me be, I won’t fink. Pinky promise.”

“Alright. I’ll stay as far away from you as humanly possible.” He clambered to his feet and opened the door for her. She was already standing, and as soon as she saw the light, she tried to scoot out beside him, but he moved his arm to stop her. “Pinky promise, remember?”

Begrudgingly, she curled her finger around his, then slipped out past him and returned to her room. Angus watched her go, and something broke inside his chest as the door closed behind her.

#dominic sessa #dominic sessa x reader #the holdovers #angus tully #angus tully x reader

[starsandhughes]

Penalty Box— Cruel Weather (Part Three)

requests based off this ask: how the boys react to sissy being physically hurt

warnings: panic attacks, crying, swearing, mentions of injuries, mentions of dying, mentions to throwing up, coma, mentions of medication, lmk if i missed anything!

word count: ~4.5k

General Series Masterlist

part one — part two — part three — part four

a/n this chapter is mostly trevor centered

— — — — — — —

Trevor woke up in a leather recliner in the back corner of Y/N’s hospital room with an IV in his arm, presumably filled with sedatives to calm him down. The weight of the world fell off his shoulders when he heard the now comforting steady machine beep of his girlfriend’s heartbeat. He looked over and softly smiled when he saw that the breathing tube was out and replaced with a nasal canal.

He slowly got out of the recliner and dragged the IV pole with him to the chair next to Y/N’s bed. He bent down and softly kissed her forehead before sitting down and grabbing her hand.

“I never thought I’d be so happy to see you laying in a hospital bed,” Trevor whispered. “I’d like it better if I saw those pretty eyes of yours, sweet girl.”

Trevor sighed and felt his eyes watering. He missed Y/N. An unbearable amount. There was only a small period of time where they went without seeing each other. Or, talking, since he does go on extended roadies.

It was killing him.

Trevor didn’t get too long alone time before the rest of the worried mob rushed in. Quinn was ahead of everybody, but Jamie was a close second. Quinn joined Trevor on the side of Y/N’s bed, and Jamie positioned himself at the foot of her hospital bed with both hands on the rail. His head drooped down and tears began to fall.

“I thought I lost her,” Jamie spoke through tears.

Trevor got up immediately to comfort his friend. Quinn took his place in the seat next to Sissy, but not before noticing the IV bag following Trevor.

“Z?” he spoke up. Trevor turned to him and Quinn motioned towards his IV.

“Oh… I uh… apparently had such a severe panic attack and was fighting with the nurses that they had to sedate me instead of giving me an anxiety pill,” Trevor explained. “I’m glad they called you when I asked. Actually, that was all I was asking.”

Everyone had filed into the room by now, so Ellen went to find a nurse for Trevor to check him over one last time before removing the IV. Trevor was glad to be rid of it, but he wasn’t glad about the nasty bruise it left behind. It was tender, but it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to.

“How are you guys?” Trevor asked the group.

“We made it through the night,” Alex said. That answered Trevor’s question perfectly: not well.

“Barely,” Quinn admitted. He spoke so low that Trevor barely caught it.

“I couldn’t hear anything after Quinn said that Y/N died. I guess it was an anxiety or panic attack… I don’t know. I’ve never really had one. All I know is that Jack had to stop me from running out of the house,” Jamie opened up.

“I threw up,” Quinn added to the sharing.

“I cried on the roof,” Cole said.

“I just… felt numb,” Luke said.

No one really wanted to open up, but it needed to be done. They were all in the same boat.

“At least she’s breathing better on her own,” Jack said in an attempt to shed some light on the situation. The monstrously fucked up situation. A nightmare.

The second official day of Y/N in a coma was proving to be worse than the first day. Especially since her heart stopped the night before. Every moment there was a fear that it would happen again, and that she wouldn’t pull through that time. Every beep on the machine was like a sigh of relief. It meant she was alive. It meant there was a chance that she would wake up.

After a while, Cole asked if he could have some time alone with Y/N. He and Alex were the only two that had not gotten a chance to speak to her in hopes that she could hear them. They were the only two that hadn’t gotten a chance to get everything out without everyone being around.

“I don’t know how everyone else did this,” Cole huffed out a fake laugh. “I guess it’s not too different from when we’re talking to you and you’re too distracted to listen to us.”

Cole sat on the edge of her bed and brushed her hair back, despite the fact that it was already tamed and perfectly in place.

“It was weird not watching a movie with you on facetime last night,” Cole continued. “Turc and I didn’t know what to do. Z offered to show us the list of movies you have planned for us to watch, but I said I wanted to keep the surprise. So you have to wake up before next week, okay? I know you wouldn’t want to get too far behind.”

Cole closed his eyes to keep himself from crying. He knew he should get serious. He knew that he needed to get everything out just in case something like last night happened again. He wished he didn’t have that fear. He wished he didn’t feel like he was holding his breath every second waiting for something to happen.

“My life changed when I met you. All of ours did, but I’m not here to talk about them, am I? I’ve known Jack for a while, but I didn’t meet you until we all went to NTDP, and I wish I met you sooner. You’re like… Wonder Woman. You’re compassionate, yet stubborn. And you will go to battle for the people you care about, which is honestly everyone you meet.

“I can’t think of another person less deserving of this than you. Especially because of the time of year it happened. Only Z and Jamie will be with you until we play against the Ducks, and I think that’s what gets me the most. Besides the whole… well, you know. I love being your best friend number two, and no matter what happens, no one can ever take that away from me. From us. I hope you know half the league asks us about you every day. Suzy demands that he gets hourly updates.”

Cole was saying anything and everything to keep from breaking down, but it was no use. He couldn’t get any words out now from how hard he was crying. He climbed off the bed so that he could lay his head down on the mattress and sob. Jack tried to run in, but Cole turned him away. He needed to cry it all out. Y/N’s constant saying that “the break will be harder the longer you keep everything in” was proving to be correct. He hadn’t let his feelings out all the way, yet. And the break was brutal.

The person that Cole did eventually let in was Trevor. Trevor got it. Trevor got him. Trevor sat down quietly next to him and waited to be needed. It didn’t take long for Cole to need a hug, and Trevor was happy to give it to him.

“We’ll make it through this,” Trevor told him. “I promise. No matter what. We’ll all still have each other.”

“But we might not have Sissy,” Cole sniffled.

“Careful, or I’ll tell her you used your once a month Sissy passes,” Trevor tried to joke. It fell flat, unsurprisingly. “I’m choosing not to think about losing her. I know our girl. I know my girl. She’s randomly flown to Van Couver to see Quinn and forgot to tell me. It scared the living shit out of me, but she came back. She always comes back.”

“She always comes back,” Cole repeated, more to trick himself into believing it.

“That’s right, buddy. She always comes back.”

– – –

Right outside Sissy’s hospital room, Alex was freaking out. He was struggling so hard at the idea of talking to Y/N like it might be the last time he’d ever talk to her alone again.

“I can’t! I can-” Alex was cut off by him choking down his own cries. He felt like he needed to scream. Jack and Quinn sat on either side of him and did their best to comfort their friend. “I can’t talk to her like I’m going to lose her. But if we do, and I don’t, then…”

“It’s alright, bud,” Quinn said, putting his arm around him. “She knows. She always knows.”

Quinn was interrupted by his phone ringing, so he stepped away and let Jack continue to help Alex. He was better at playing Sissy anyways.

“Matthew?” Quinn answered, confused. “Did I forget to update you?

“I’m outside the hospital,” Matthew said, not really answering his question. “I couldn’t stand it anymore. I kept hoping that she’d facetime two days ago, even though I knew she wouldn’t. I already talked to my coach. I wasn’t playing well with her on my mind. I need to be here.”

Quinn understood. He more than understood. He understood more than Matthew did.

“It just… it wasn’t a call I was expecting to ever get. And I really didn’t want something worse being told to me over the phone,” Matthew elaborated. “Can you come get me?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a couple minutes,” Quinn said before he hung up.

Quinn told Jack that he was going to get Matthew so that he could subtly let Trevor and Cole know. He really hoped that him being here won’t take away anyone’s ability to be vulnerable, but Matthew was just as important to her as almost anyone else, despite him not being in the “group,” for lack of a better term.

When Quinn returned with Matthew, Cole and Trevor were out in the hallway.

“We thought you might want a moment alone with her,” Jack told him.

“Just don’t confess your love to her. She might leave me for you,” Trevor joked. He was proud of himself for getting a small smile out of the clearly distressed man.

“I’ll hold back, just for you,” Matthew countered before entering the room.

Matthew’s breath hitched when he saw Y/N. Not so much as a picture was sent to him. Quinn told him that she looked worse with a tube down her throat, so he was glad that she was just left with a nasal canal now. He sat down next to her, but he didn’t hold her hand. It didn’t feel right to him. It felt like it would solidify the idea of her dying.

“Hey, little mouse,” he sighed, tearing up. “It’s uh… your rat. Or I guess sometimes you call me Ratty, or Matty, or Matty Rat, Matty Ratty, anyways– whatever you’re in the mood for calling me, it’s me. Fuck, this is hard.”

He was crying silent tears now. Y/N really was in a coma. He knew it before, but seeing her makes it a hundred times worse. He’d known her for five years. He played along to her silly little school girl crush. He bought her flowers for her sixteenth birthday because she asked him to come to her party! He watched her go through her teenage years, hell– she still is one, and now he’s praying that she’ll make it through the night. He’s praying that she’ll wake up.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I was trying to still be a leader for my team, but even the coaches knew I wasn’t playing like my usual self and let me come here. I can’t even imagine the pain everyone else out in the hall for you is in. Especially Quinn and Trevor.

“You don’t deserve this. I’m sure if you can hear, you’ve heard just about everyone say it, but it’s true. I don’t think anyone else would drop everything and fly to Calgary just because I’m playing against one of your friends, and I know you do that for everyone else, too. You’re a light, little mouse. For everyone. It’s getting too dark without you, so you need to wake up, okay? You’d do anything for the people you care about and that’s what we all need. You.”

Matthew finally caved and took a hold of Y/N’s hand. His tears were dropping more fiercely now, and her touch helped a little. He smiled when she squeezed his hand. Quinn told him that she might do that and it’s all subconscious, but Matthew couldn’t help but hope it was because she heard him.

– – –

The parents went to acquire lunch for everyone, and while they were out, the boys all went into the hospital room. Cole, Alex, and Jamie didn’t really know Matthew, so they were happy for the distraction of younger teenage Sissy stories from before they met her. Jamie especially, because he didn’t meet her until a few months ago. And yet, they already loved each other. That’s how special Y/N is.

“Wait, so she actually fell over the couch trying to talk to you?” Cole laughed. “How have I not heard this?”

“Because Mr. Boyfriend here doesn’t like discussing the little mouse crush era,” Matthew laughed.

“That sucks, Z, because I need to know everything,” Alex said.

“You know some of it,” Trevor mumbled. “Even when she moved to Michigan and met all of us, she still fawned over him at first.”

“Wait, you’re the Matty she couldn’t stop talking about?!” Cole shouted. “This makes so much sense!”

“She practically begged him to come to her sixteenth birthday party,” Quinn told the group.

“She tripped when he came through the door,” Jack snicked.

“You went?” Jamie asked. “Weren’t you in the league by then?”

“I was playing in Calgary,” Matthew explained. “It wasn’t too long of a plane ride and the date worked out, so I couldn’t bear to say no to her.”

“He bought her flowers and I got nothing,” Jack added, jokingly sounding bitter.

“I could go buy you something from the vending machine down the hall; would that help? Clearly, you’re still upset over your lack of a sixteenth birthday present,” Matthew teased him.

“It would,” Jack said. Matthew laughed and pulled out his wallet to give Jack his card. “Thanks, Matty!”

Silence lingered for a bit when Jack left. It started with Trevor. He stopped smiling and brought his girlfriend’s hand to his lips and lightly kissed each knuckle. Everyone saw it and just couldn’t find a reason to laugh anymore.

“She squeezed my hand,” Matthew said. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but there’s hope, right? It was after I finished speaking. So who knows? Maybe she’s getting closer.”

Trevor sent him a small smile and nodded his head, which was the best he could offer.

“I hope she can hear us,” Trevor said. “I hope she knows how loved she is.”

“She knows,” Alex said, mirroring Jack’s words to him. “She always knows.”

What Trevor didn’t tell the group is that Y/N squeezed his hand after Alex finished talking. Maybe Matthew was right, maybe she is closer to waking up.

– – –

After everyone left, Trevor was too drained to stay up. Luckily, the nurses were kind enough to keep the recliner in the corner of the room for him, so he laid it back and tried to get settled to get some sleep. He stayed on his phone scrolling aimlessly for a while before eventually passing out.

Sleep wasn’t kind to Trevor. He was plagued by endless nightmares, none of them allowing the sweet release of waking up. Over and over again he saw and heard Y/N dying. One mirrored the actual event of her flatlining, in another she woke up and died in his arms, and another she didn’t even make it out of the car. After a second showing of the actual event he witnessed the night before, he finally shot himself awake. He was panting, and he was sure that a scream escaped his lips. He wildly shook his head to try and find Y/N, and the sound of her heart beating steady brought him some ease.

He walked over to her and sat down to grab her hand, “Just keep that heart beating for me, okay, sweet girl? That’s all you gotta do.”

Trevor smiled to himself when she squeezed his hand again, but he tried to not get his hopes up. It didn’t mean anything. It was mere coincidence.

What did mean something was the soft groans that escaped her lips.

“Y/N?” he asked urgently, standing up. Nothing. “Sissy?”

His hand was squeezed again and he heard muffled sounds coming from her. He swore he heard her say “don’t call me that.”

“If you’re awake, I need you to open those pretty little eyes for me, sweet girl,” Trevor said softly as he stroked her hair. “I know it hurts, but I need to see them.”

She groaned heavily, but began to flutter her eyes open, “you’re bossy.”

Trevor collapsed into his chair and heaved the biggest sigh of relief. He took her hand in both of his and held it up to his lips, pressing a firm and lingering kiss on them and allowed the tears to fall.

“You’re awake! Oh my god, you’re awake!” Trevor said through tears.

— — —

Your mind was muddied, but you knew the sound of your boyfriend crying well enough to know that that is what you were hearing.

“Why wouldn’t I be awake?” you slurred. Your vision was less cloudy now and you could see the situation you were in.

Hospital bed. Leg suspended in a sling. Shoulder wrapped and on a pillow-like thing. Feeling extremely groggy. In pain. Trevor’s crying.

Trevor’s crying.

Trevor’s crying.

You brought your hand up to Trevor’s face and cupped his cheek, wiping a tear away with your thumb, “Why are you crying, my love?“

“You- you… you,” he was starting to get worked up.

“Shhhh,” you cooed. “It’s okay. I’m okay. What happened?”

“I saw you die! Your heart stopped beating and the world ended and I couldn’t do anything and I keep hearing the flat line and–”

“Okay, okay, it’s okay,” you said. “Come here.”

“You’re hurt, Y/N/N. Bad. I don’t need to be in this bed with you,” Trevor said.

“Is anything on my upper body besides my shoulder injured ?”

“No, but–”

“So come here.”

Trevor slowly crawled into the small space between you and the bed rail.

“Lay down on my chest,” you whispered to him.

He carefully laid down on your chest, being mindful of your IV, and wrapped his arms around you.

You took deep breaths as you rubbed his back. Yeah, you were the one in the hospital, but your boyfriend just told you he saw you die and you weren’t about to let him suffer.

“See? It’s beating now,” you said low and you stroked his hair with your good arm.

“It’s beating now,” Trevor sighed in relief.

“It’s beating now,” you reaffirmed.

“I need to tell a doctor that you’re awake,” Trevor said.

“We can tell them tomorrow,” you said back. “I just want to lay with you before the real pain sets in. We can talk about whatever happened tomorrow.”

You didn’t know how long you’ve been in the hospital, but you did know that Trevor was incredibly tense and terrified. You were worried out of your mind about him. It didn’t matter how much pain medication was surely in you, even your clouded mind could tell your boyfriend wasn’t okay. You rubbed his back up and down until his tears ceased and you felt him relax against you.

“I thought our forever was going to get cut short,” he said sleepily.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” you said.

“I love you, forever.”

“I love you, always.”

— — —

You woke up early the next morning to a nurse going near Trevor to probably tell him off.

“Don’t touch him,” you scolded her.

“You’re awake!” the nurse jumped. She wasn’t expecting her coma patient to be awake. “Unfortunately, this does mean we’ll need to run some tests, so he will need to get up.”

“Can you give us an hour?” you pleaded with her. She gave you a playfully scolding look, but agreed. She gave you another dose of pain medication when you said you were in some pain, making sure to emphasize that Trevor was not that source, and left. Trevor slept through it all.

You found yourself humming and slipping your hand up Trevor’s shirt to softly scratch his back. You had an hour before chaos began and you were going to cherish every second of it.

“I love it when you sing,” you heard him mumble into your chest.

“Good morning to you, too, handsome,” you laughed lightly. “Thank you.”

You felt Trevor nod his head and cuddle up closer to you, placing his head back over your heart. You had a feeling he might need to do that a lot.

“My love, can you check what time it is? The nurse gave us an hour,” you said sleepily.

Trevor groaned but he carefully got off of you to check his phone. His sleepy eyes were soon filled with panic, “Oh shit! Shit!”

Alarmed, you tried to sit up, but you felt a jolt of pain and cried out. Trevor rushed over and eased you back down.

“Are you okay?! Do you want me to get a nurse? I should–”

“Z! Why did you say oh shit?” you cut him off.

“I didn’t immediately tell Quinn that you woke up, and when he finds out that I didn’t–”

“Quinn’s here?” you asked.

Trevor sat down on the edge of your bed and grabbed your hand, “Everyone’s here, sweet girl. They all flew in. Half the league’s been asking for updates. You’re famous, kid.”

You didn’t know how to take that. You were in pain, sure. Apparently you died which was already too much to think about. And now virtually everyone you know is asking about you? It wasn’t fun to think about. It wasn’t fun to think about how many people have worried over you. Trevor was a mess, and you couldn’t even begin to think about everyone else.

You’re the go to person. You vow to make every single person you hold dear, every single person you love, feel safe and loved. You’re the person people go to for support. You have people to go to, but who do you go to when everyone else is struggling with you?

Eventually your hour alone with Trevor was over, at apparently five am, and he had to be kicked out for testing. He freaked out a tad— okay a lot— but he settled for waiting outside in the hall with the door open and you periodically telling him that you were still there. That didn’t last long. A nurse accidentally caused your heart monitor to fall off your finger, causing the flat line to sound again, which caused Trevor to scream. You tried to call out to him, but your voice was too weak and his voice was too strong.

“Help him!” you shouted at a nurse.

You hated what happened next. Trevor’s cries and screams died down, and you were told that they put him in a room after being lightly sedated to calm him down. They explained to you that it happened two nights ago, as well.

“If he stayed in that recliner last time, he needs to be brought in here again. Or he’ll wake up and freak out again,” you told the nurse. “Trust me on that.”

She ended up listening to you, since he did spiral himself into a panic attack just because you were out of his sight. You didn’t know he actually had one, you thought it was just screams. You wished you were right.

You had just enough energy left in you to wait for Trevor to be placed in the recliner. He was out of it, he barely classified as a human at this point. You watched as he got settled and the nurses left, and when his eyes closed, so did yours.

You didn’t know how long you were asleep, but Trevor had drug his IV to your bedside and parked himself in the chair next to you.

“Are you okay?” you asked groggily.

“What? I should be asking you that” Trevor said, dodging your question.

“Z,” you said seriously.

Trevor just looked at you. He looked so guilty. He looked so broken.

“Jack told me that the second you open your eyes, I need to be strong for you if none of them are here. None of them are here yet today and instead of being strong, have an IV with sedatives to not have a panic attack,” Trevor said quietly. “Not even pills, Y/N! An IV bag!”

“Okay, okay,” you got out quickly. “Trev, what you saw is scarring. You never should have seen that, and I’m so sorry that you did. We’re gonna be a bit of a mess for a while it seems, but we’ll be a mess together. We can take turns being the strong one.”

“I need to take care of you,” Trevor said. “You’re hurt, Y/N/N. Bad. You’re going to need help doing everyday things. I can’t be a mess when you need me.”

“Yes you can, Z,” you told him, rubbing his hand with your thumb. “I don’t want anyone holding in anything for me, because that’ll make the break so much harder. Just because I’m going to need help physically doesn’t mean we can’t help each other mentally.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I think all of us are going to need help mentally,” Trevor admitted.

You gave him a sad smile and squeezed his hand, “Good thing I’m awake then, huh?”

Trevor smiled back, but you could tell he really didn’t mean it.

“Jack was playing your part, don’t worry. He held us together for a while.”

“It’s a twin thing,” you joked.

“That’s what Jack said,” Trevor laughed lightly, making you actually smile.

You could tell Trevor was still uneasy, so you had him lay down with you again, but this time he got next to you. You couldn’t lean against him, because moving was agonizing, but the touching of shoulders and your unbroken leg between his was enough for you. He caught you up on everything. He didn’t like it, but you needed it. You needed to know what happened to your friends and family while you were out. All of it absolutely broke your heart, but you were ready to heal with everyone. Physically and mentally. Together.

He told you that almost everyone had a moment alone with you. You wished it was like the movies because you wish you could’ve heard them.

“Do you remember what you said?” you asked Trevor.

“You want to know what I said?”

“I want to know what everyone said. It might help us all get through this.”

Trevor checked his phone, “Visiting hours start in an hour. Why don’t we just lay here together until they come and at some point you can hold one on one therapy sessions?”

It was a reasonable request. You were exhausted, and Trevor had already been through so much in the last three hours. Trevor put a movie on his phone, The Hunger Games, and you laid your head on his shoulder and drifted off to sleep again.

———

reblogs appreciated! it helps spread fics <;3

#penalty box series: imagines #penalty box series #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras angst #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #cole caufield #cole caufield imagine #luke hughes #matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #quinn hughes angst #hockey imagine

[sc0tters]

Better Off as Rivals | Luke Hughes

summary: the game didn’t go all too smoothly for Luke, but here comes the moment you’ve been waiting for: the reunion. but what happens when a curveball makes it less smooth than one of you would have liked?

request: yes/no

warnings: mention of blood, sad Luke, Mat Barzal (he deserves a warning for this part)

word count: 1.41k

author note: at the end of this part I mention the end THIS IS NOT THE FINAL CHAPTER OF THEIR STORY! There is one more left. will say though, it’s about time we give them a bit of happiness.

previous part | final part

You swore it was the longest game of your life.

Luke and Mat got into a fight in the second period and from that very moment, you hadn’t sat down.

It was a fight that seemed to build in the first third, both boys continuously chirping at each other with every chance that they got. When Mat was taking off in the hopes of calming him down it caused the Hughes boy to comment something that forced half of the Islander bench to hold the Canadian back.

You thought that the boys would have settled down by now. They had twenty minutes apart before they had to see each other on the ice again. Part of you wanted to think that Mat was giving Luke a piece of his mind for you, but when the Devils player was the first one to drop his gloves. That wishful thinking part of you was quick to disappear.

Both boys had been sent to their respective penalty boxes with the older of the two looking worse for wear as the younger had a shit eating grin on his face as he didn’t care about the blood that was gushing from his nose. Part of you was glad that they both found this all easier than you did because personally you wanted to die.

You literally thought that throwing yourself off of a cliff would have been easier than watching them continue to fight.

Thankfully for you though Luke didn’t play in the third half as the team ultimately feared the idea of him doing anything that could get himself ejected from the game.

When the whistle finally blew to signal the end of the game it was like a weight had lifted off your shoulders. It was like now you knew that they really couldn’t hit each other anymore.

So you stood by the entrance of the home locker room waiting for Mat to come and debrief what on earth went down between him and the boy.

You sent him a small smile as Mat made his way over to you. The scowl on his face was still evident. It reminded you of the time Luke ate a packet of Jacks gummy bears and the older boy didn’t talk to his brother until he replaced them, it took the younger four days of constant glares from the forward to figure it out.

But when Mat got to you the memory quickly frazzled out of your mind. The boy let his stick hit the floor as his gloves went to your cheeks.

The material warmed the apples of your face as you locker eyes with him. The look in his orbs was different to what you were used to, it was darker than usual. His eyebrows were furrowed as his tongue clicked between his lips.

You had no clue what was going on but to afraid to question the boy that was clearly in an irritated state.

Not that you were really complaining though as it meant that you had the chance to finally get a good look at the damage that Luke had done. You had to admit that Luke threw a good punch, something that you didn’t think that he had in him to do.

What you didn’t think would happen whilst you scanned Mats face, was that he’d kiss you.

It actually almost knocked you off your feet you were so surprised. Yeah Mat was cute and he paid attention to you but there was one thing that he didn’t have going for him, he wasn’t Luke.

But after a few seconds you had to admit that the kiss felt good enough to the point where you kissed him back.

Unfortunately for Luke he had to watch the whole thing. Yeah he had his suspicions about what you were with him and those sure did keep him up at night, but it was actually seeing it in the flesh that was different. Now there was not even a fighting chance for him in this equation.

Luke knew he would have been better off telling you the truth to begin with. But knowing something and doing something were two totally different things.

Just as that poster in your office cubicle used to say actions speak louder than words

How he used to think it was the cringiest thing he had ever seen before but now Luke was stood here actually agreeing with it.

Luke knew he was being dramatic but his heart felt like it was in front of him but he couldn’t get it back. So he was forced to watch as you pulled away from the older boy “let’s give them some privacy.” Nico’s voice was soft as he placed his hand on the Hughes boys shoulder.

Nico had been stood behind the younger boy so he got the front seat view of how Luke reacted to you getting some kind of action.

Sure he and Miles joked that it would be funny if Luke did end up liking you but they didn’t mean it like this. It seemed like in that very moment Luke finally felt the pain that he caused you to feel. His pain was different though, yours had been inflicted through words but his pain was through your actions and somehow that hurt more.

It was probably the total lack of knowledge that you were even doing anything wrong that hurt Luke the most.

Despite his captains suggestion Luke couldn’t take his eyes off of it he physically had no other option but to stay and stare as he felt stuck.

Your conversation with Mat ended with you telling him that you two would talk about what just happened later.

Watching as the Canadian walked into the locker room you couldn’t help but feel the holes that were being burnt into your head. With a confused look you turned around as you locked eyes with Luke.

You cocked your head as you walked over to him “you okay?” You asked as you furrowed your eyebrows.

Waiting for his lips to move so that his mouth could make a sound felt like an eternity “little sore,” for the first time in over a year did you hear Luke talk to you in a normal tone.

There was no snarky remark, sarcastic scoff or even hint of mean in his words. You never thought that you would see the day were he looked at you like you were a normal girl.

It was cruel how he still made you nervous enough to the point where you fiddled with your pocket causing you realised you still had his letter “this is for you.” You mumbled as you held out the white envelope to him.

It had his name marked in big cursive letters as it was your favourite way to write things.

The paper smelt like your perfume instantly letting Luke’s favourite smell invade his nostrils “thanks,” he sent you a nod as he took the item from you careful to not touch your hand in the exchange. It wasn’t to be rude, it was because if he had any physical contact with you Luke swore that he might pass out. He felt that nervous feeling rush over him as though he was getting blood drawn at the doctors office.

Watching with a grin you studied Luke’s hand to see the bruise forming on his knuckles from where he punched Mat “I should get going,” you confessed as you saw your coworkers motion you over to them.

The boy let out a sigh “okay,” he nodded feeling a sense of defeat despite the positive score line that the game had.

You pushed yourself onto your tippy toes as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him into a hug “and can we not have you fight like that again?” You asked causing the hockey player to laugh “think I can try that,” he smiled as you stood back down on the floor.

It was nice having him be civil “I’ll keep you too that.” You warned sending him a mini salute before you walked away.

Luke stood there watching as your figure went further away until you turned a corner meaning that you were now out of his sight.

Whilst it felt like closure for you,

It felt like the ending of the story had come about twenty pages too early for Luke.

#luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey imagines #oneshots #imagines #better off series

[hockeylovee12]

Crossing Enemy Lines

Chapter Two

Luke Hughes x Original Character

Warnings: Cussing

A/N This chapter was updated on 04/11 to replace the photo and then improve the text. The story line remains there's just a few minor adds.

November 11th, 2023

The mid-morning sun filters through the curtains in Luke’s room, casting a gentle glow across his face, as he slowly stirs awake. 

His eyes flutter open and he immediately feels the dull throb of a slight headache. 

With a groan, Luke rolls over and buries his face into the soft pillow. He silently thanks the hockey gods that his coach-even if it was done reluctantly-gave the team the day off, allowing him to nurse his minor hangover in peace. 

Fumbling around on the nightstand, his long fingers finally find his phone. He squints at the screen, taking a moment to adjust to the brightness as he swipes through his notifications. 

A text from his brother Quinn catches his eye: Tough game last night bud. 

Luke sighs, remembering the bitter taste of defeat, his team suffered last night at the hands of their fucking rivals the Rangers. 

He makes a mental note to call Quinn later, and check in on how his game went, knowing the Vancouver Canucks played the reigning cup champs last night, but having no clue how it went. 

The next message is from his mom: Hi sweetie, Dad and I are so excited to see you and Jacky this weekend! How’s everything going? 

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, as he types out a response to his mom indicating his excitement to see her too, before hitting send and returning to check the rest of his notifications. 

As he scrolls a text from an unknown number appears on his screen: Hey it’s Jordan. I had a great time tonight, let’s do it again :) 

Luke’s heart skips a beat as he reads through the message, and a flutter of excitement courses through his veins. Memories of the previous night flood his mind-the laughter, the easy conversation and the undeniable spark he felt between him and Jordan. His smile widens as he types out the response: I’d like that. 

Just as he hits the send button, the door to his room swings open and Jack strolls in, uninvited of course-a habit Luke has had to become reacquainted with since joining the Devils, and moving in with Jack. 

“What’s got you smiling so early in the morning?” Jack asks, his voice equal parts teasing and curious. 

Luke quickly locks his phone, trying to play it cool “Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles

But Jack, ever the perceptive older brother, narrows his eyes and in one swift motion snatches the phone from Luke’s grasp, ignoring his younger brother’s protests, as he types in his password. 

“Lets see what we have here” he says, a mischievous glint in his eye as he reads the text from Jordan “Ah is this the girl from last night?” 

Luke swiftly stands up and lunges towards Jack trying to grab his phone, but Jack holds him at arm's length. 

“Fine, yes, now give me back my phone” Luke grumbles, his cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. 

“Not so fast,” Jack grins, his eyes still glued to the screen “You like her, don’t you?” 

Luke hesitates, his mind racing. He likes Jordan, he likes Jordan a lot. There’s something about her-about her laugh, about her smile, about her energy, the way she carries herself. As he ponders for a response, his phone beeps, signaling a new message. 

“She’s asking when you’re free” Jack informs him, his eyes scanning the screen. 

“Today?” Jack says, his fingers flying across the keyboard, to type out the very question he said aloud. 

“Wait. Jack don’t-” Luke tries to warn, but it’s too late. Jack hits send, a triumphant grin on his face. 

Luke finally manages to snatch his phone back, his heart pounding as he stares at the screen. 

Three little dots appear, then disappear, and for a moment Luke forgets how to breathe. 

Then, a white bubble pops up, with a single word that sends his pulse racing: Sure.

Jack leans over Luke’s shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips “You’re welcome” he says his tone equal parts smug and supportive. 

Luke playfully shoves Jack away, a genuine smile spreading across his face “Get out” he laughs, guiding his brother towards the door. 

As the door clicks shut behind Jack, Luke leans against it, his eyes fixated on his phone, as his smile widens. 

He quickly types out a message, asking where they should meet, and Jordan’s response comes almost immediately suggesting a cafe in New York City. 

Luke responds: Sounds good. How’s 1pm? 

Jordan replies: Works for me! I’ll send you the address. See you soon. 

With a grin Luke types out Looking forward to it, and sets his phone down, a flutter of anticipation rises in his chest as he thinks about seeing her again. 

He takes a deep breath, then pushes off the door, making his way to the bathroom, to start getting ready. 

 *****

Luke’s breath forms a cloud in the crisp New York air as he pushes open the door to the quaint cafe nestled on the corner of a bustling street. 

His heart races with anticipation as he scans the room for Jordan. 

He spots her at a table, her face lighting up with a smile, as she waves him over. 

“Hey” Luke greets her sliding into the seat across from her 

“Hi,” Jordan replies, her eyes sparkling. 

They order their drinks- an ice tea for Luke and a matcha latte for Jordan, before easily falling into a conversation.

“Oh before I forget,” Jordan says, reaching into her bag. She pulls out a well-worn paperback and hands it to Luke. “You asked me to recommend something for you and uh this is one of my all time favorites” She explains

Luke smiles, turning the book over in his hand, and looks at the title The Great Gatsby

“Thank you Jordan, that was really kind” Luke expresses 

“Well, you did promise me you’d actually read it” Jordan teases her eyes twinkling with mirth. 

Luke chuckles setting the book down on the table, “I’ll dive into it as soon as I can”

 They continue chatting, swapping stories and laughing at each other's jokes. They delve into various topics from their favorite movies, to their most embarrassing childhood memories.

"...and then I tripped, face-first into the cake," Jordan recounts, laughing at the memory. "My mom was horrified, but my brother couldn't stop laughing."

Luke chuckles, imagining a young Jordan covered in frosting. "Siblings, they never let you live anything down, do they?"

“Definitely not, do you have siblings?” 

“Ya I uh, I got two older brothers” Luke tells 

“Baby of the family?” Jordan teases. 

“Something like that” He jokes

“Don’t worry I’m the baby of mine too” She says, eliciting a laugh from Luke. 

They continue their conversation, shifting the topic to their favorite places. 

At one point their hands brush against one anothers on the table sending a jolt of electricity through both their bodies. Luke looks up, his eyes meeting Jordan’s, and for a moment the rest of the world fades away. 

They lean in, drawn to each other like magnets. Luke’s heart races as he inches closer, his gaze dropping to Jordan’s lips. 

And just as they're on the brink of sharing what would most likely be a magical kiss, the loud buzzing sound of a notification on Luke’s phone startles them both. 

Instinctively, he turns the phone face up, his brightness fully illuminated, and as he clears the random alert, his lock screen comes into view-a picture of him in his New Jersey Devils uniform, standing proudly on the ice. 

Jordan’s eyes widen as she catches a glimpse of the image, and her heart skips a beat. 

Luke notices her reaction and realizes his mistake. 

"Alright, um, I guess you kinda caught me," he admits sheepishly. "I'm not a student. I, uh, I play in the NHL."

Jordan is silent for a moment, processing this newfound information. Luke laughs nervously, trying to lighten the mood. "You know, most girls think it's pretty cool. Did you have a terrible experience with a hockey player or something? Promise not all of us are the same."

Jordan hesitates before speaking. "You play for the Devils?"

"Yeah," Luke confirms, studying her reaction.

"Don't tell me you hate hockey?" He somewhat jokes, hoping to god and beyond her answer isn't yes cus that's the biggest deal breaker in the world. 

Jordan hesitates, her expression unreadable. "No I um, I don't hate. My, uh, my brother plays," she reveals, her voice soft.

Luke's brows furrowed in confusion. "Oh, cool. In the NHL?"

"Yeah," Jordan sighs.

"Who's your brother?" Luke asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Jacob Trouba."

Luke's jaw drops, his eyes widening in shock. "Your brother is Jacob Trouba?!" he exclaims, a hint of anger creeping into his voice.

"Guilty," Jordan half-jokes, trying to diffuse the tension.

Luke runs his hands through his hair, muttering under his breath, "What the fuck."

Jordan bristles at his reaction. "Hey, it doesn't really change anything."

"Are you kidding me?" Luke scoffs, his frustration mounting.

"What?" Jordan challenges, her own irritation rising to the surface.

"Your brother is the captain of the Rangers, and I'm a Devil," Luke points out, as if it should be obvious.

Jordan laughs, but there's an edge to it. "So?"

"So? What do you mean, 'so'?" Luke asks incredulously.

"What does it change?" Jordan counters, her eyes narrowing.

"Wh-what? Everything!" Luke sputters. "Why didn't you mention this?"

Jordan's face hardens. "Are you kidding me? I didn't mention my last name because I had no fucking clue you gave a shit about hockey. In case you forgot, you told me you were a college student. Failed to mention you're actually in the fucking NHL."

Luke tries to defend himself. "Yeah, but that's different. I didn't tell you cus I figured you be some kinda fan girl, which by the way would be a hell of a lot better than you being the sister to the captain of my biggest rival" 

Jordan lets out a harsh laugh, "Rival? Oh My God! Are you serious? Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?" 

"It's not ridiculous" Luke claims

Jordan scoffs "You're right it's not ridiculous, it's just fucking comical" She stands abruptly, grabbing her purse "Grow the fuck up, Luke" 

With that, she turns on her heel and storms out of the cafe, leaving Luke sitting there, stunned. 

The copy of The Great Gatsby still lies on the table, a painful reminder of the moment that had slipped away.

With a heavy sigh, Luke stands, tossing a few bills on the table to cover their drinks and picks up the book, scoffing at the irony of it all, as he walks towards the exit of the cafe, and steps back out onto the bustling streets of New York, a scowl plastered across his face, at the unfortunate turn of events. 

 *****

Luke returns to his and Jack’s apartment, his mood sour and his thoughts consumed by the disastrous end to his date with Jordan.

As he enters the living room, he finds Jack sitting on the couch, his phone propped up in front of him. The familiar voice of Quinn filters through the speaker, indicating that they're in the middle of a FaceTime call.

Jack looks up, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, Lukey! How'd the date go?"

"Shut up," Luke grumbles, plopping down on the couch beside Jack.

Quinn's voice chimes in, concern evident in his tone. "What's wrong, Luke?"

Luke sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Just didn't go well," he says vaguely, not wanting to delve into the details.

Jack and Quinn exchange a glance through the screen, their brotherly instincts kicking in. "Come on, man," Jack prods gently. "Talk to us."

Luke shakes his head, his gaze fixed on the floor. "It's not gonna work out, that's all."

"Why not?" Quinn asks, his brow furrowed.

"Just... not going to," Luke responds, his tone indicating that he doesn't want to discuss it further.

Jack and Quinn sense Luke's reluctance and decide not to push the matter. "Alright, bud," Quinn says, his voice sympathetic. "I'm sorry, but maybe things will still work out?"

"Not gonna happen" Luke mumbles, anger creeping into his voice. 

Jack leans back on the couch, trying to lighten the mood. "It's probably for the best, come on, man. You don't gotta be hung up on some random girl when we're trying to win a Cup."

Luke nods, forcing a small smile. "Yeah." He stands up, stretching his arms above his head. "I'm gonna go lay down for a bit."

"Okay," Jack says, understanding in his eyes. "We'll be here if you need us."

Luke makes his way to his room, and decides to take a shower, hoping the hot water will help clear his head.

As the steam fills the bathroom, Luke's internal monologue takes over. He knows he doesn't need to be in a relationship, but the idea of having someone by his side isn't entirely unappealing.

His thoughts drift to his past relationships, or lack thereof. It seems like everyone around him has someone - Quinn with his girlfriend, Jack with his rotating roster of dates. But for Luke, finding a genuine connection has always been a struggle.

The last real relationship he had was back at Michigan, and even that ended in heartbreak when he discovered the girl was only using him for his family name. But now, with Jordan, he thought he'd finally found something real, something special and the fucking irony that for once it wasn’t his last name that ruined something, it’s stupid, it’s fucking stupid. 

As he steps out of the shower and changes into comfortable clothes, Luke can't shake the feeling of loneliness that settles in his chest. He lies in bed, scrolling aimlessly through his phone, trying to distract himself from the ache in his heart. 

It doesn’t work, he tosses his phone to the side, staring at the paperback book he threw on his nightstand. 

Suddenly, his phone buzzes with a notification. For a brief, hopeful moment, he thinks it might be Jordan, reaching out to apologize or explain. But instead, it's a message in the Devils' group chat,

Reminder practice tomorrow 9 AM. 

Luke groans, his disappointment palpable as he tosses his phone onto the nightstand and buries his head in his pillow.

A/N Part 3 coming soon

#luke hughes #nj devils #jack hughes #hughes brothers #quinn hughes #original story #crossing enemy lines #jacob trouba #ny rangers #rivalry

[reidingandwriting]

Speak Now (Hotch's Version)

Chapter Three: Haunted

"Don't go, don't go, don't leave me like this..."

Word Count: 1,400 (another short one, sorry!)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings: Criminal Minds level of violence, gunshots mentioned, reader gets injured

Previous chapter / Next chapter

Eight months had passed since you’ve started dating Aaron, and you couldn’t be happier. You had met Jess a few weeks into dating, and a few weeks later, you met Jack. You adored the kid and he always seemed happy when you were around, which made Aaron happy, which made you even happier. You had now been a part of the BAU for almost nine months now, and you were happy. Things were never better. 

You had spent the night at Aaron’s the night before, due to the water in your apartment building being shut off. You had gotten back from a long case, Jack at Jess’s, and you barely even remember walking through the door a little after midnight- just to be woken at four o’clock with another case. 

“Do we have to?” You whined as you rolled over, and you draped yourself across Aaron as you felt him start to sit up. Aaron carded his fingers through your hair, a tired chuckle leaving his lips, and he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 

“I know,” Aaron’s voice was soothing, deep and raspy from just waking up. “Hopefully you can sleep on the jet.” You mumbled some incoherent response and dragged yourself out of bed. God you hated these early morning calls. You stumbled through your getting ready routine, and you sipped at the coffee clutched in your hands like it was a lifeline. 

Not even an hour later, you were on the plane for a flight to Los Angeles. You laid on the couch, your legs draped over Emily’s lap. Aaron was half asleep, head leaned against his window, and the usual antics you and your teammates got into were abandoned for rest. You had a feeling this case, a serial killer who abducts his victims then holds them for a few days of torture before brutally killing them on the fourth day. You had a feeling this would be another long, hard case. 

And you were so, so right. Word had gotten out that the BAU was working the case, and your unsub went silent for nearly two weeks. On day eleven, he acted again and he had devolved exponentially. Two bodies were found in the alley near the precinct, and none of the nearby cameras got a clear enough image to identify the unsub. You hadn’t seen anything like it in your time at the FBI, let alone the short time you’ve been in the BAU, and you felt discouraged. This was a mutual feeling across the board with the team, and you could feel the tension as you walked into a room. It was hard enough to mask your feelings when talking to families and local detectives, and you could barely hide your frustrations with the case when you walked into your hotel. 

“Do you want to shower first?” Aaron asked and you shrugged as you fell face first into your bed. 

“Wanna shower but also just want to melt into this mattress and not get back up,” you said, your voice muffled by the comforter. “You can shower first, I just. I need quiet and the shower feels too loud right now.” Aaron’s footsteps sounded through the room, followed by the click of a light switch. The room was enveloped into darkness, and a second later, the bathroom light was turned on, giving a light glow to the room. “Thank you.”

“Do you need anything else?” Aaron asked and you thought for a moment.

“‘M okay. Thank you,” you turned your head to offer a small smile to Aaron and winced as your head throbbed. 

“Migraine?” Aaron asked as he walked over to his suitcase and you groaned in response. “Need water?”

“Nuh uh,” you said and Aaron took your hand before he tucked two pills into your hand. 

“I’ll be quick, then you can shower. Hopefully get some sleep,” Aaron pressed a kiss to your hair and you leaned into the touch. Aaron gently rubbed your shoulder once before he walked to the shower, the door shutting behind him, and you welcomed the darkness. You sat up to swallow the pills and hoped you’d at least get a little sleep tonight.

As if your body had read your mind, you barely got any sleep last night. The migraine had dissipated to an easily ignored ache, but your brain refused to shut off. There was so much noise outside your hotel, Aaron’s usually happily welcomed cuddling tendencies had become too much sensory wise, and you were stressed. You clutched your thermos as if your life depended on it, and you felt seconds from snapping at the next person that breathed in your direction. You, Aaron, and Emily were in the SUV to follow a new lead and Emily’s humming in the backseat was slowly grating at your nerves. 

“Can you just? Shut up for one minute?” You snapped and Aaron glanced over at you with a concerned frown and Emily hesitated, taken aback by your tone. Aaron said your name and you barely fought the urge to huff like a scolded child. “I’m sorry, I just don’t get what there is to be humming about right now. This is a shit case and I don’t mean to be an ass, but-” You were cut off by Aaron saying your name again, this time in his ‘boss’ voice. 

“That’s enough. If you can’t control yourself better than this, I’ll send a cab to take you back to the hotel. We don’t need you out in the field today if you can’t control your temper.” 

“I can handle it, sir.” You didn’t mean to be sarcastic, but the words slipped before you even processed what you were saying. Aaron put the SUV into park as you reached the house you would be checking out, and Aaron’s jaw was clenched. “I’m sorry,” you said, but you knew it was too late. 

“We’ll discuss this later. Stay in the car, we shouldn’t be long.” Aaron said and he started to get out of the car. Emily followed and you leaned back in your seat, drinking some more of your coffee that now tasted sour. Grounded to the car, like a child. You took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down and sat in silence for a few minutes. 

-

“Is everything okay?” Emily asked and Aaron let out a slow breath. The house looked empty and the two spoke in faint whispers as they did another light sweep. 

“They’re just… overwhelmed. Doesn’t excuse it, but tensions are high. It’s nothing personal.” Aaron said. Another clear pass through the second floor and the two agents made their way downstairs. When another sweep of the downstairs revealed nothing, Aaron and Emily started to make their way outside until BANG BANG BANG. The sound of gunshots had Emily and Aaron ducking, and Aaron covering Emily. 

“It came from outside,” Emily whispered in horror and Aaron’s heart stopped. Aaron ran outside and his years of training were almost forgotten at that moment. The SUV door was opened, and the unsub stood over a body a few yards away, gun in hand. Aaron barely recognized the body as your own before he raised his own gun, a shot to the chest sending the unsub to the ground. A weak cough sounded and Aaron ran to you, immediately dropping to his knees.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Aaron mumbled and your eyes were hazy as they met his. “Hey, hey. Stay focused on me, okay?” Aaron’s voice wavered and your breath hitched as your eyes watered. Aaron pressed his hands to your wounds, hoping to slow the bleeding until medical could get there. He just had to keep you alive until then, just had to keep you talking.

“I, I saw him- Tried to, to get away. Couldn’t… couldn’t let him. M sorry for leavin’ the car.” Your eyes blinked a few times, like you were trying to focus. “Cold.”

“I know, I know. You’ll be taken care of soon, and they’ll fix it. You’ll be okay, you just have to stay awake. Just a little longer,” Aaron pleaded and your hand reached out for his. You rested your hand on top of his own, your speech slurring. 

“Love.. you… Aaron.”

“I love you, too,” A choked cry left Aaron’s lips and the sound of sirens sounded faint as they started to approach. “Hey, hey, keep your eyes open.” A panicked cry of your name was the last thing you heard as you slipped into darkness.

#aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #bau!reader

[blank468]

One of things that fans bring up when talking about Bakugo’s development is that Bakugo knows Deku well than anyone else far beyond his bullying. He’s supposedly feels sorry/guilty for Deku for not only bullying him but for the fact that he’s going through a downward spiral since the minute he was given OFA. While at the same time he hates himself for his behavior and realizes how he acts is not the traits of a hero and is probably why All Might didn’t choose him as his successor.

Let’s say Bakugo has always felt this way post Kamino, specifically after his rematch with Deku, what does he do to fix this issue, while knowing the problems Deku is facing ?

Jack s**t.

Bakugo’s actions and behavior barely differ than before. Most of his presence after Kamino is honestly pointless and shallow because he has no real contribution to the story. Him being shoved along with Deku and Shoto to do the internship with Endeavor doesn’t do any thing but give us more annoying moments with him. He acts incredibly aggressive and inappropriate when he’s with the Todoroki family. He’s only in that arc so he can have power progression. His involvement with OFA doesn’t amount to anything other than mindless yelling, guilt tripping and him being incredibly obnoxious. While at the same time he insults the deaths of the previous users and All Might doesn’t see this as an issue. Bakugo and Deku don’t even have any interactions that’s not about heroism, OFA or about them trying to surpass each other. Having these two interact about some general stuff would give them a chance to improve their relationship. I honestly wished there was a conversation between these two after Deku returns to UA where Deku talks about their relationship and how he truly felt.

But of course this doesn’t happen and we get the exact same slop as before and Bakugo continues to projects his anger towards Deku thinking that’s it’s his victims fault for him bullying him.

Granted he has been shown to have some regret for how he treated Deku but he barely does anything to fix behavior towards him and only waited at the last minute to give his half assed apology.

You can say that him training with Deku when he unlocked Blackwhip is proof that he is helping, but this doesn’t mean anything because Bakugo instantly gives up all because him constantly trying to injure Deku isn’t working. It’s only later in chapter 336 we see these two training together along with Class 1A, but it’s late in the story and what was given was too little too late. We’re just supposed to believe that they have been training and understanding each other together on a positive level off screen.

This series can go on all it wants about how their favorite wonder boy has changed as a character and how he now has the traits of a true hero. But nothing about what he does and how he interacts with others ever conveys that claim in a way that looks believable. The story has shown us that Bakugo’s villainous behavior makes things worse for himself and around other like Class 1A, and he never once felt guilt

Bakugo has never had a real reason and any saying for his actions towards his so called best friend and towards everyone in general. His reasonings for being an asshole and to why he hates Deku either doesn’t do anything or just make him look even more petty and also come across as if he is emotionally manipulating everyone around him.(EX. The moment when Deku tells Bakugo that he got his quirk from someone happened because Bakugo made him feel guilty about hiding his quirk to him during the Ground Battle Trial.)

I seen people say that Bakugo’s line “I’m sorry Izuku for everything” means that he’s always felt haunted by his constant guilt for what he did and the long term affects of it, but he’s also sorry that things ended up the way they did.

The thing is; Bakugo I would think would have the curtsy to put some effort into how he treats Deku before and after his apology.

I think it’s fair to say that Deku’s self destructive behavior is because of Bakugo’s bullying and him treating Deku like a failure. And I know this is also because of All Might’s heroism and how Deku viewed him, but if you remember in his rematch with Bakugo, he made it clear that while he was inspired by All Might it was Bakugo that he looked up to the most.

Instead of having it where he realizes that action are petty and taking accountability during Villain Hunt, he’s chooses to not only puts the blame his victim but also puts all the blame on Deku’s destructive behavior and his issues of self worth on All Might. Meanwhile he has the nerve to say he’s the only one that knows Deku more than everyone else and people like All Might, Endeavor, Aizawa, Uraraka, Iida and even Shoto can just piss off.

Bakugo is supposed to have changed as a better person; he supposedly now has a better understanding of Deku is now caring to him and yet he’s still acts the same as he did before and continues to antagonize others to satisfy his ego. Meanwhile fans continue to excuse this as a subversion of our expectations. Granted the way he treats everyone is not as awful as he was Pre- Kamino, but that still doesn’t excuse his behavior and how lazy his development is. And no, him telling a child not to look down on others otherwise you won’t recognize your own weakness doesn’t work because he himself can’t even take his own words to heart.

This is just the creator’s attempt at trying to paint his favorite character in a good light without doing anything with him to have him earn it. I can care very little about him feeling guilty about All Might’s retirement. I personally don’t think it’s Bakugo’s fault for his retirement; I blame him for starting the rescue mission and making things worse during the Forset Camp Training Arc. I probably would have cared about Bakugo’s dynamic with All Might if most of their interactions weren’t him being incredibly selfish and down right being a prick to his idol for no reason.

#bnha critical #mha critical #anti bakugo katsuki #anti bakugou #anti katsuki bakugou

[m-ayo-o]

₃ control

18+ // m. oral [rough] // edging // spitting // degrading // restraints // gag // blindfold // L❤ bomb // more *shrug* wc 4100 chapters m.list <- previous // next ->

You stay at Toji's all weekend, having sex as many times as you can without really hurting yourself.

The routine goes as follows: one, Toji gets worked up over seeing you come out of the shower, bending over, kissing him softly, complimenting him, just about anything, two, he tries to resist fucking you again in an attempt not to hurt you, and step three, his favourite part, you beg him to continue and end up with him between your legs again.

As the days and weeks pass, you’re getting to know each other on such an intimate, physical level. You soon discover that Toji’s sexual appetite is borderline insatiable, airing on the rougher side, with plenty of dirty kinks hidden deeper. You’ll get to know them eventually.

But for now you're left reeling, struggling to keep up with the libido of a 45 year old dad.

You’re harassed with filthy messages and requests for you to send him pictures, “put on that red lingerie set,” you send him a body shot, “bend over in the mirror,” you oblige. The messages continue, urging you to show him more and more until you’re sending him full on porno videos.

He doesn’t send much in return, despite your incessant whining that you want sexy pictures of him too. But he has sent you one video of him jacking off. You have a view of his abs, thick cock and his veiny fist pumping himself. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve watched his video after a stressful day at work.

When you get to see each other again Toji seems to be getting rougher with you, really starting to show you what he likes. He’s more vocal, ordering you around, his big hands squeeze you tighter, he spanks you a little harder, and he lets go a bit more when he’s fucking you.

One weekend you finally work up the courage to ask Toji if you can give him a blowjob. You presumed that maybe he didn’t enjoy them as much as sex, or that he just prefers eating you out and toying with you.

“Uh,” he pauses for a moment, "you really want to…?” He asks, raising an eyebrow as you kneel below him, looking up eagerly.

You know how big he is, you know you’ve never sucked anyone as big as him, but you really want to make him feel good. You nod and smile up at him, “Mhmm, ‘m sure,” you hum as you tug on his leather belt. He sighs and runs a hand through his spiky hair.

“Gonna get carried away… can’t help myself with you,” he mutters, his big fingers stroking your lips, getting enticed by your offer.

“Toji… you know I can take it,” you murmur, starting to unbuckle his belt and undo his tight trousers. He thinks back to the first time you had sex, uttering the same words as you grabbed at his hips and pulled him deeper.

He sighs and lets you continue taking his clothes off as you’re already down to your panties below him.

He allows you to pull down his boxers.

Your tongue darts over your lips, your eyes taking in every detail of his intimidating cock; the way it bends, those thick veins, the base of jet black stubble, then back up to his swollen tip.

You’re pretty sure you’d be drooling if your bottom lip wasn’t resting between your teeth.

As your eyes scan his hardened member you start to admit to yourself that this could be difficult. You’re struggling to accommodate him with both hands.

“Having second thoughts, doll?” he questions as though he can read your mind.

“no” you murmur absentmindedly, your eyes trailing up to his, which are fixed on you with a mixed look of concern and arousal.

He strokes your hair behind your ear, taking in the view of your perky tits squeezed together while your small hands tug on his length.

But you want him in your mouth. You can’t wait any longer.

You close your lips over his fat tip, licking his slit and tasting him, then suck gently, making him let out a soft moan.

You work your lips down his thick shaft, slowly taking him in, coating him in your saliva. You think you’re pretty good at deepthroating, so you try to take him all the way back. Your throat contracts around him, making Toji shudder, his fingers finding your hair. You feel like you might choke, but you continue and start up a steady rhythm.

You pull back and suck on his tip again, your eyes rolling back with a moan when you taste his precum.

“Like the taste of my cock, hm?” his voice comes out deep and gruff. “mmmhh–” you moan and lick, sending vibrations up his shaft with your sweet voice.

You take him back down, feeling Toji’s hands caress the back of your head.

“Mm– taking me s’well,” he lets out a surprised moan as you take him so deep, every vocalisation encouraging you to suck him until your jaw is aching.

Until a mischievous thought enters your mind. You can tell he’s loving this, letting you take him at your own pace, and you can feel when his pleasure is building up, when he’s about to release.

So you think it might be fun to try to edge him.

You build him up, taking him back and enjoying his thick and tasty cock, then pause and teasingly run your tongue along the underside.

You watch his expression change subtly. His scar quivers over his lip, his eyes narrow almost unnoticeably. He knows what you’re doing.

“Playing that game, huh?” he lets out a little chuckle, an intimidating flicker behind his green irises. You peer up at him, naively continuing.

“Think you’re gonna get away with that, hm?” you think he’s teasing, he sounds so jovial. But you realise too late that there was a more sinister undertone to his question.

“You asked for this…” he grips your hair tight, pulling his hips back. 

He fucks your throat hard.

He thrusts ruthlessly, barely letting you breathe as tears start to roll down your cheeks, leaving you whimpering and struggling for air.

“You deserve this,” he spits out, his thrusts getting quicker and more erratic. He grabs your hair as if you’re a little ragdoll, pulling your nose right up to his pelvis. He holds your head still and sprays hot cum down your throat.

There’s so much hot white liquid that some spills from your lips when he pulls out.

“Don’t you dare let that drop on the floor.” He glares at you as you attempt to lick up all of his cum. You lick around your mouth and swallow as much as you can. “Open.” He demands as he grabs your face harshly.

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue for him obediently. He grabs your arm and lifts you up, then shoves his tongue inside your mouth, roughly kissing you and tasting himself.

“Where’d you get the fucking nerve to edge me?” he growls as you look up at him, mouth agape with tear stained eyes. “Close your mouth,” he orders and throws you on the bed.

Toji’s starting to make you feel a little scared now.

He grabs the belt from his trousers and pins your wrists to his bed frame, blindly ignoring your apologies while he focuses on tying you up, “Toji, please… I, I didn’t mean to– ah!” You scream as he gives his belt a harsh tug around your wrists. He turns and walks over to his drawer.

He pulls out a black tie which he places over your eyes, tying it at the back, leaving you feeling helpless. “T-Toji…” you murmur, your voice trembling.

You feel him lean over you on the bed, hearing his deep breaths as he gets closer. You feel him a hair’s width away from your lips, “Gonna make you scream,” he utters then bites your plush skin.

“Toji, please…” you whisper as you try to reason with him, not enjoying the darkness.

“What do you expect?” he lets out a sigh, “You were taking me so well… then decided to do that.” He says flatly, still leaning close to your face.

“T-Toji, it was a mistake, I–” he presses a finger over your lips.

“You're right, it was a mistake,” you can hear him smirking as he speaks.

You can only mumble against his finger, “mm– please, I–” his hand closes over your mouth.

“You've done enough with this mouth, doll,” he pulls away as you gasp for air.

The next thing you feel is Toji dragging your panties down your legs, opening your mouth wide and shoving the material inside. 

“Better,” he mutters, closing your jaw.

You then hear an unmistakable buzzing noise of a vibrator.

He leans over you, the bed creaking under his weight, and rubs the toy against you. It feels quite big, bigger than your vibrating dildo at home.

Toji pushes the smooth, hard dildo inside you. You were right, it's bigger than yours, but nowhere near as big as Toji. You don't feel any pain, but it stretches you and vibrates through your core, making you moan into your gag.

“Ain't that a pretty sight?” he sounds genuinely amused, “Think I'll have to take a picture…” you hear him exit the room.

You're left tied up, blindfolded and gagged, with a dildo squeezed inside your pussy. You let out a sad sigh, completely regretting your decision to edge Toji as your wetness pools over the dildo.

You see the bright flash of his phone camera from behind your blindfold. All you can do is helplessly whine and mumble through your gag as he continues taking pictures, your face blushing a dark pink. You hear a deep throaty laugh, “oh, doll, you're gonna be a mess f' me.”

He plays with you and strokes your clit with his rough fingers, his lips sucking on your hard nipples as the dildo vibrates inside you.

You feel the tension inside you building so incredibly, making you moan and whine into your gag, concentrating hard on your impending release.

Until Toji stops his movements. 

He pinches your clit and bites your nipple hard, leaving you screaming in pain and disappointment.

“You wanted to cum, sweet?” he asks, watching you buck your needy hips. You see the flash of his camera again from behind your blindfold as you squirm on his bed.

“What you tried to do to me earlier,” he starts, his voice low, “you know what you were doing?” he questions. 

“Mm hmm,” you admit, nodding and mumbling.

He pulls your wet panties from your mouth.

“Say it.”

You pause to catch your breath, inhaling the fresh air quickly.

“What were you trying to do?” Toji loses his patience.

“I, I… I was trying to edge you… I, I'm, I'm really so–” Toji grips your jaw and shoves your panties back in.

“Right. Now I'm going to teach you how to edge someone properly, so pay attention, because you can't edge me for shit.” He spits out his words. 

You whine into your gag helplessly as you feel him shift down the bed, his mouth closing over your clit. He sucks and licks until you’re on the brink of orgasm, then suddenly pulls away and slaps your pussy.

Tears gather in your eyes as pain shoots up from your sensitive wet skin.

He pauses and leans up to your ear, “You get it now?” You nod quickly, “Uh huh!” You mumble through your gag. You moan as you feel his fingers stroking over your clit again.

“You want to cum on my fingers? With this big dildo in you?” He mutters into your ear. “Mm, mm…” you whine as he sucks on your neck.

You feel his weight shift again as he moves down the bed. His big fingers work over your clit as your body starts to arch up, your pleasure about to overflow.

He pulls out the dildo and starts fucking you with the end, sliding it through your messy lips, your hips grinding uncontrollably.

Toji lets out a deep laugh and delivers a hard flick to your aching clit.

You scream.

You let out strangled sobs, tears pooling in the blindfold. 

“Oh, oh no, baby's crying?” he coos, “Gotta see,” he pulls up his tie, uncovering your blinking, red eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“You really need to cum?” He asks softly, stroking your wet cheek with his thumb. You just sob and look up at his sexy body and handsome face. You can tell from his teasing grin that he isn't done yet.

He leans down and takes the dildo in his fingers, pulls it out slowly and massages it over your aching lips and clit.

“Mmmh… ah…” you moan as Toji clicks the vibrator, increasing the level. You squirm as you move your hips, desperately rubbing the vibrator against your clit.

“Such a needy pussy,” he mutters absentmindedly, tilting his head and spreading your lips with his finger and thumb. “Need to be filled up again?” He asks, making you nod, giving him a pleading look. 

“I could just… fuck you with my fingers, just a little longer… and you'd be creaming on me, right baby?” You nod and whine eagerly, wishing to beg him to let you cum. 

You push your hips against his long fingers when you hear him again. “Your slutty little pussy wants more, though…”

“We can continue our lesson another day.” His fingers slide out, the vibrator clicks off, and your panties are removed from your mouth, only to be replaced by his thick, wet fingers. 

You clean him up and he slides his digits out, holds your cheek, strokes down your jaw and squeezes your neck.

He moves in close, his lips just over yours and whispers, “But you,” he looks from your lips into your wide eyes, “do not edge me again, or you will be disciplined.” He glares at you with his piercing green eyes. “Do you understand?”

You whimper and nod, unable to speak with his hand wrapped around your windpipe.

“Good. Gonna untie you now, so try to behave yourself.” He murmurs as you massage your sore wrists as you're released.

Toji pulls you down on the bed so you're lying beneath him. You don't get much freedom as he holds your wrists above your head, squeezing tightly.

He starts grinding on you, his hard, wet tip pushing in. “You might be allowed to cum tonight,” he starts, fucking you with just his girthy tip, “if you’re nice ‘n loud.”

“Think you can do that?”

You nod.

Toji squeezes your wrists with one big hand, your hip with the other, then suddenly rams his whole length into you.

Your voice has nearly gone dry, but you manage to let out another broken scream, your mouth flying wide open as fresh tears roll down your cheeks.

“T-Toji…” you stumble, whimpering a little. He holds your mouth open as you cry, his fingers pressed over your teeth. He leans over you with a dangerous look in his eyes then spits in your mouth.

He closes your mouth and glares at you as he starts pumping into you.

“Swallow.” He commands. You obey, feeling his hand move to your throat, squeezing.

You get a rough fucking… he doesn't stop till you've learned your lesson. You're sobbing under him as he pounds into you hard, grabbing and squeezing your waist and hips. “T-Toji please, I'm sorry…” you whine, hoping he won't stuff your mouth again. 

Your hips are aching, feeling so stretched and numb.

“Please… please Toji…” you try to reason with him, feeling exhausted as you begin to wonder if Toji is going to stop.

He’s got you pretty close to using your safe word.

But Toji knows you're nearly at your limit. He’s made his point.

He suddenly grabs the vibrator and clicks it on, massaging over your thrumming clit.

“Had enough?” He murmurs as your orgasm builds up again. You nod submissively as he touches your overstimulated clit.

He starts to feel a bit sorry as he looks down at the mess he's made of you; your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks, red and purple marks over your skin.

He works an orgasm out of you, hearing your soft, relieved moans, your hard clenching over his length bringing him to his second release. “Fu– fuck– such a messy girl,” he groans, spilling his load.

He leans in close and stays inside you for a while. He sucks your sensitive skin on your neck and mumbles into your ear, “Told you I'd lose control, sweet.” He kisses you and holds you in his arms. He finally pulls out and you get instant relief as the overwhelming pressure and pain fades from your body. You lay still and cover your eyes with your arm, sniffling from crying.

Toji gently carries you to the bathroom and lets you clean up. He rests you down on the bed again and sighs, lying next to you. You kind of want to curl up into a ball and snuggle into Toji, but he's the one who just edged you for eternity and inflicted so much pain on your body so you resist his touch a little. You love rough sex, but Toji’s just so big it's more painful than with an average sized guy.

You sigh and squeeze your eyes shut, then curl up into Toji's arms.

It's not his fault he's big… and kinky. You sigh into Toji's chest as you think to yourself.

“You ok?” You hear his voice, soft and deep as he strokes your hair. “Mhmm,” you hum while he holds and strokes you, kisses you goodnight and lets you fall asleep in his arms.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

You wake up in Toji's bed and feel the ache of your hips and back as you groan into the pillow. You reach your hand out and open your eyes to find that he's not next to you. It's light already so you sit up, wincing as you feel the dull ache between your legs.

The bedroom door opens and Toji enters, fully dressed and wearing his apron again. He carries a tray and places something yummy smelling on the bedside table.

“Hey,” Toji murmurs and strokes your leg under the blanket, “I just got you a little breakfast…” he trails off and gently squeezes your thigh, looking down at his lap.

You've never seen Toji like this. He looks a little stressed and tired as he strokes you.

“Thank you so much, you didn't have to,” you smile and squeeze his big hand on your leg. “Mm,” he sighs, "enjoy your meal, sweet.” He lets go of your leg and walks back out to the kitchen.

You sigh heavily and rub your head. He's such an idiot, you think. You enjoy the warm honey oats, hot tea and fresh fruit that Toji cut into perfect bite sized pieces.

You’ve seen some very interesting sides of Toji recently, but this is a real surprise.

You think he must be a great dad, although when he speaks about his son his voice is always laced with regret. You finish your meal and put on one of Toji's worn t-shirts, his smell bringing you comfort.

You take the tray out to the kitchen and start to wash the bowl and plate. Then you feel Toji's hands take the bowl from you as he finishes washing up for you, standing behind you, leaning over.

Once he's finished you turn around to face him. He gazes down at you with a strange expression. He looks hurt, his green eyes looking a little sad. 

“Look, Toji, you know you don't have to feel bad… about yesterday,” you reach a hand up to his jaw, surmising that’s what he’s pouting about.

Your thumb traces over his scar as he sighs heavily and leans down, his head resting against yours. “Mm… I just didn't want to get that way, with you… been trying so hard to hold back…”

You give him a reassuring smile, “I'm okay, Toji. And you know you made me feel good, right?” You remind him.

“But, you're so…” he strokes your shoulders, down your arms, “you're so precious,” he looks down at your small hands in his.

Your heart is pounding in your chest.

Toji looks heartbroken as he gazes down at you. You lift his handsome face back up again to see his green eyes looking so sad and mysterious.

“Toji… please, I'm fine.” You give him a stern look.

You snake your hand around his neck and pull him down gently as you tiptoe up and place a soft kiss on his scarred lips. He holds back and doesn't deepen the kiss like he usually does, but pulls away.

“Are you not in pain?” He asks, “You really wanna be with me after I treated you like that?” You pause and realise he's being deadly serious.

Your eyes widen as you stroke his face, “Toji… I…” you bite your lip, wondering if Toji wants to hear this or not.

“I love you, Toji.” You look up into his eyes, smiling softly.

He stares back silently for a moment.

“You… love me?” He repeats slowly, as if he doesn't understand. You nod your head, his mouth opening and closing again as he stares at you intensely. It must've been a long time since anyone told him they loved him, you think as he looks at you in confusion.

She loves me? Why? Am I allowed to love her? Someone like me doesn't deserve her love. Toji's head is swimming with strange thoughts and questions. He pauses, looks at you longingly and sighs. 

He finally opens his mouth to speak, but you just pull him down and lean up to kiss him again. You're really not sure if Toji was ready for that. You kiss him passionately and he allows you to enter his mouth, sliding your tongues together as you work over his sharp teeth. 

He hums into your kiss, his lips curling into a little smile as he pulls away, biting your lip gently. He laughs softly with a handsome smile.

“It's been so long since anyone said that to me.” He breathes deeply as he holds your waist in his big hands. “Mm,” you nod, “it's ok if you–” Toji's lips close over yours again as he smiles against you.

He pulls away, his eyes meeting yours, “I love you… so much.” He squeezes you gently.

You feel tears prick in your eyes as you look up at your gorgeous man.

“You don't wanna love someone like me…” he trails off, his thumb wiping away your tears.

“It's too late...” you murmur, tears rolling freely down your cheeks. “Baby, please…” he holds your face gently. 

“Why're you crying, sweet?” He asks softly. “Because…” you sniffle, “nobody told you that in so long…” you cry as he holds you. “Sweet, it's ok,” he sighs and kisses your cheeks.

“You've become so precious to me. I adore you, I love you. I hope you can forgive me for hurting you, I just–” you cut him off with a happy, teary kiss, hugging him tightly.

His arms wrap around your small body, all smiles and soft hums of each other's name.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

You and Toji enjoy another day of bliss as he tries to make up for how crazy he got yesterday by massaging you and eating you out all morning till you're a wet mess beneath him, giving you all the orgasms he denied you, and then some more. He looks after you and pampers you all day, then takes you for dinner and drops you home.

You end up at Toji's pretty much every weekend, each time you encourage him to just let go as he feels more and more comfortable with you, starting to trust that he won't hurt you too badly. He still insists on making you breakfast every morning, but he's starting to accept that you'll be ok even if he fucks you until you're aching and sore. 

And you sometimes manage to get a little revenge as you claw at his massive back, leaving red scratch marks on his pale skin. He even allowed you to give him hickeys on his chest recently as he lost control while fucking you.

Since you told him how you feel, your love making has got more... heated.

And now you’ve seen how Toji likes to treat you, you enjoy thinking about what you’d like to do to your gorgeous man.

up next: risky [chapters m.list]

[masterlist] likes, comments + reblogs appreciated! ♡

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #female reader #toji fushiguro smut #18+ content #toji fushiguro

[floralcyanide]

⊱ 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑 ― 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 ⊰

[ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]

1960s ᴜs ᴘʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴀɴᴅɪᴅᴀᴛᴇ!ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜs sɴᴏᴡ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒 (ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠): 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟

౨ৎ 18+ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴏɴʟʏ !

⊹ summary: a run down of the events after new year's eve. ⊹ pairing: young!coriolanus snow / fem!reader ⊹ warnings: innuendo, the insinuation of smoking, mentions of alcohol ⊹ word count: 1139 ⊹ author’s note: sorry for the wait, but I decided to make the rest of the series headcanons instead of actual chapters. it is quite exhausting to write sometimes, and there's so much to this series that I'd rather do it this way. thanks for all of your support. this is my favorite series I've written so far. (:

౨ৎ divider credit: @cafekitsune

౨ৎ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ | sᴇʀɪᴇs sᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ | sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

౨ৎ this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

❝A man does what he must—in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures - and that is the basis of all human morality.❞ ― John F. Kennedy

✲ Coriolanus is leading in the polls so far for the 1964 election, but there’s a problem. He has yet to marry, and this is peculiar to many hesitant voters. Jack and Bobby both talk to him about this when they all gather in Coriolanus’ office to discuss their next steps.

✲ “I think the girl studying Jack would be a great contender,” Bobby suggests.

✲ Jack laughs incredulously at his brother, “I am not going to send off my student to marry a politician when she has so much ahead of her.”

✲ Coriolanus shuffles uncomfortably. The two of you have been secretly seeing each other here and there since that past New Year’s Eve, and it’s now the middle of April. The thought of just popping the question to you has crossed his mind, but he didn’t want to ruin the good things going for you. 

✲ Other problems more dangerous than marriage plague Coriolanus. The Women’s Revolution, the movement for Women’s rights, has reached new heights in their tension with the government. Coriolanus has been questioned about it by journalists and citizens alike. He firmly stands by his goal of women’s equal rights being passed into law.

✲ Jack offers Coriolanus the chance to come back to the Compound in the summer to finish up campaign strategies and kick back for a while. Little does Coriolanus know that Jack offered for you to return as well to finish up your dissertation. He wants to test Bobby’s theory of you and Coriolanus being together. Hopefully, you can finish up your project before Coriolanus makes a move.

✲ You arrive at the Compound, much to John Jr. and Caroline’s delight, as they run down the front stairs to you. You clamber out of the car, and the Secret Service removes your luggage. The kids cling to your legs as you laugh down at them. You glance up to see Coriolanus at the top of the stairs, and you do a double take.

✲ “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?” you ask, a grin growing on your face. It had been about a month since you’d seen Coriolanus. “It was a last-minute decision,” he shrugs. 

✲ That first day, you, Jack, Coriolanus, and Jackie go out on the boat and have a few drinks. You all catch up, and Jackie gives you knowing looks the whole time. You and Coriolanus avoid the elephant in the room regarding you two.

✲ The evening creeps up, and you and Coriolanus sneak to the fire pit after dinner. “Have I told you about my vice president?” “No, not yet. What’s he like?” “His name is Sejanus Plinth, I think you two would get along very well.”

✲ After you and Coriolanus discuss Sejanus, he asks a question after a moment of silence. “Have you ever tried the shit that Jack smokes?” “Not really, but it smells peculiar,” you say, “Why?” “You seriously don’t know what it is?” Coriolanus chuckles. “Well, it can’t be tobacco, so,” you trail off, realizing what the substance is, “Oh. I see.” Coriolanus laughs at you again before pulling a joint out of his pocket, “Wanna smoke some?”

✲ Coriolanus sneaks into your room that night just to sleep in the same bed as you.

✲ You and Coriolanus become prone to sneaking and doing daring things. One night, after everyone has gone to bed, Coriolanus drags you to the garage, where the two of you take Jack’s convertible out for a spin. Without the Secret Service. Coriolanus drives down a back road alongside the coast, where your arms are thrown into the air as the wind gusts past your hair. Coriolanus looks over at you, knowing then and there he needs to marry you. There’s no one else, and there never would be. 

✲ Coriolanus takes you out on a beautiful date in Boston at the fanciest restaurant in the city, which was suggested by Jack and Jackie. 

✲ When you get to the bottom of your champagne glass, something hits your lips. You jump in surprise and slide it out of the glass when you pull it away from you. It’s a stunning diamond ring, the gem itself huge. The band is a simple white gold, and you look up at Coriolanus, who has now moved to kneel before you. 

✲ “I know this is quite sudden and out of nowhere, but there’s no one else like you. And I don’t think I can go on without you being mine forever,” Coriolanus has his hand on your knee, a hand out so he can place the ring on your finger, “Say yes, and I’ll give you everything you could possibly want.” “I think I have everything I could possibly want right in front of me, Coryo.” “So, you’ll marry me, darling?” “Yes, Coryo. I will definitely marry you!”

✲ The next day, it’s splattered all over the press that presidential candidate Coriolanus Snow is engaged to be married to little old you, the student under President John F. Kennedy. Bobby is beside himself, and Jackie hugs you, whispering in your ear how she knew you two would end up together.

✲ It’s now the middle of summer, and the wedding day is coming soon. You decided to get married on the beach outside the compound where you and Coriolanus met. The entire Kennedy family is invited, and your friends from university, as well as a few of Coriolanus’ friends, are invited. You finally meet Tigris, Coriolanus’ cousin who raised him, at the bridal shower. She tells stories upon stories about the blonde boy getting into trouble, which you enjoy thoroughly. 

✲ You and Coriolanus marry in late June of 1964 in a beautiful ceremony, where Jack walks you down the aisle. He says it’s the biggest honor he’s ever received. Not even his Purple Heart could compare. 

✲ Your honeymoon is spent in Boston in a luxury hotel near downtown. For the whole week, the two of you hardly leave the bedroom. 

✲ When the two of you are back from the honeymoon, Jackie proposes a day on the beach for the whole family. You both sit by the sea while the kids play and the guys play some football. Coriolanus isn’t a major fan of sports, so he stays with the kids.

✲ Both of you watch as Coriolanus plays with Caroline, John Jr., and Bobby Jr. in the shallows, splashing back at them when they throw water at him. “Have you thought about kids yet?” Jackie asks suddenly. You open your mouth but close it back, unsure of how to answer, “I- we haven’t really… discussed it yet, I guess.” Jackie hums, nodding, “It would look great for the campaign, besides, the sooner, the better. Voters love a great love story.”

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #president snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #au #alternate universe #alternate history #historical fiction #the hunger games au #tbosas #tbosas au #eventual smut #jfk #john f kennedy #bobby kennedy #rfk #the kennedys #1960s #floralcyanide writes #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader smut #young coriolanus snow