Tumgik
#i have many !! thoughts and feelings about this game
puckinghischier · 14 hours
Text
Hat Trick
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Nico Hischier x fem!reader, Jack Hughes x platonic!reader, Luke Hughes x platonic!reader
summary: part 4 of the locksmith series! reader attends her first ever devil’s hockey game, and leaves a few pucks richer than when she came
notes: y’all i think this is my favorite part of this lil series so far. i literally wrote this in one sitting. i’m so happy with how it turned out. i hope you are too!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼
[6k]
part 1, part 2, part 3
~
You’ve been to a lot of Hughes centered hockey games in your life. You’ve been to watch both Quinn and Luke play during their time in Michigan, and you’ve been to watch several of Jack’s minor league games when you were teenagers.
Though somehow, despite how long you’ve been intertwined with the hockey breathing family, you had never been to a professional game. You talked about making a trip to Vancouver with your family at some point to watch Quinn, but it never worked out with your school schedule. You wanted to come watch Jack with the Devils a few times, too, but the plans always fell through.
You wish you’d tried harder right about now, because walking into the Prudential center, red and black everywhere you look, you’re a little overwhelmed.
Jack had told you exactly where to go and who to call if you got lost, but getting there wasn’t the issue. You finally having your car with you responsible for that, considering it was delivered just yesterday. The company that you hired to haul your car to you had gotten the date of your move wrong, so you had been depending on Jack and Luke for rides anywhere outside of walking distance.
Today, though, they were needed at the rink far earlier than you would’ve been allowed in. And, in true hockey player superstitious fashion, they can’t ride to the rink together for home games because the last time they did they got beat. So, you were extremely excited when you got the call that your car had just been parked outside of the apartment complex the day before.
You had found the arena just fine, leaving your car with the valet Jack had told you to go to. You had gone to the entrance designated for friends and family of the players, flashing the locker room pass Jack had given you, and even managed to find your way to the public areas of the arena by yourself.
The issue you had run in to stems from the fact that not only had you never attended an NHL game before, but you had never attended an NHL game alone.
Even though you blended in with the crowd outwardly, donning a devil’s jersey like everyone else, you were way out of your element. Usually at the boys’ games you had Ellen and Jim with you, or your own parents. They always made you feel like you belonged a little more, because they would explain certain fan behavior to you.
You knew all you had to do was simply sit and watch the game, but with the energy being so chaotic leading to the rivalry game, you knew that the fans were going to be absolutely buzzing. People were walking past you, jumping in front of you for high-fives and fist bumps, yelling “GO DEVS!” before walking away like nothing had ever happened. You didn’t miss the occasional dirty look from anyone in a blue Ranger’s jersey, either.
When you had first made your way to the foyer area at the front of the arena, you had already seen security having to separate a Devils fan and a Rangers fan. They had been screaming at one another over something that you were unaware of when the Rangers fan slammed his fist into the Devils fan’s cheek.
The scene made you a little apprehensive about how the game was going to go. You knew this was one of the biggest rivalries that existed in the hockey world, and you had read that the Rangers had a tendency to play extremely physical, so you were nervous for all of the Devils players you were growing fond of.
You eventually make your way to your seat, but not before going full fan mode and buying a foam finger at one of the many merchandise stands you passed on your way. You thought Jack and Luke would get a kick out of it, figuring you’d need all the help you could get after they see what you’re wearing.
You kept your promise to Nico, currently sporting the number 13 on your back. You felt a little silly, honestly. You had never not worn a Hughes jersey to a hockey game before; you always wore the jersey of whatever brother you were watching. But the conversation you had with Nico a few nights prior kept paying on a loop in your mind. The promise of a hat trick was too tempting to miss out on. Plus, even if he didn’t get a hatty, you knew you’d have the chance to make him do anything you wanted him to. You knew you had teased some ridiculous request, but you had decided you were simply going to ask him for an ice-skating lesson.
You had never been able to learn as a kid, not living close to an ice rink. Jack, Luke, and Quinn had tried to teach you a few times, taking you to their local rink when you would visit them outside of the summer months, but the lessons always ended with fights and hurt feelings. You needed someone that wasn’t going to yell at you anytime you panicked and found yourself sprawled along the frozen ground.
As you walk down the stairs towards your seat, foam finger on display proudly, you take in the pure atmosphere of the place. The arena looked huge from where you stood, lights dimmed and a red shadow cast over everything in sight. Not many people had made their way into the seating area yet, but there were a few fans bunched around the glass, waiting for the players to come out and start their warm ups.
You were pleasantly surprised when you found your seat free of any bodies, being able to settle in and wait for the arrival of the players on the ice. As the minutes ticked by, a few people made their way to your area, smiles and chants of ‘go Devils!’ once again filling the air around you.
You could see why people enjoyed coming to games so much. The sense of community was so strong in this building. Everyone was here to support the same cause, one goal in mind: a Devils’ win. You started to survey all the signs that fans had brought, setting them up against the glass for the players to see. Some of them were clever, some simply reading “puck?” with their favorite player’s number on it.
You also noted how many people were wearing Jack and Luke’s last name on their back. Even as you were driving up to the arena, you noticed the large presence of 86’s and 43’s surrounding you. It was odd, really, to see how many people were supporting your boys. It made your heart swell with pride, a little bit. To physically see the amount of people that believe in them the way you always have was enough to sell you on attending every Devils game from here until the end of time.
The newfound knowledge also further justified your decision for wearing Nico’s jersey tonight. You had seen plenty number 13’s floating around in the crowd, too, but Jack and Luke clearly had no lack of fan support.
The sound of pucks hitting the ice is what broke your attention from observing the people around you. You instantly clocked Luke’s curls, finding Jack not far from where Luke had settled on the ice. You looked around, trying to find a familiar head of brown hair you hadn’t seen nearly enough. Was he not warming up today? Was he okay? Did Luke actually hurt him and he wasn’t playing today?
You don’t remember either of your roommates mentioning that their captain was hurt. That’s something they would’ve mentioned at least once, right? You continue scan the ice for any sign of the Swiss man you couldn’t get off of your mind, not paying attention when Jack started skating in your direction. A loud bang on the glass in front of you with what finally broke your investigation.
“You’re here!” Jack yells through the glass at you, ignoring all the shouts of his name from the people standing around you.
“I told you I wasn’t going to miss it!” you shouted back, wondering if he could even hear you in the noisy environment.
Movement behind Jack caught your eye, Luke making his way over to stand next to his brother, earning an entirely new wave of sound to erupt around you.
“Bouy! You made it!” Luke shares his brother’s surprise.
“Did you guys really have no faith I would show up tonight? Am I that bad of a friend?” you ask them, wondering why they thought you would be a no-show.
“Know it isn’t your scene, is all,” Jack shouts back, shrugging his shoulders, smile on his face.
“Uh-uh, it is now. Look, I even bought a foam finger! I’m legit, now!” you wave your newest Devils merch around.
They both shake their heads and laugh, your eyes wandering to the ice behind them once again.
“Who ya looking for, huh?” Luke is the one to notice they no longer held your attention, turning his head to look at his teammates warming up behind them.
“Oh, no one. Just, taking it all in,” you try to recover. Luke simply looks at you, the moment he caught you staring at Nico in your living room in the back of his mind.
“It’s awesome, right? I’m telling you, you’ll be wanting to come to every home game by the end of the night. There’s nothing like a Devil’s home game,” Jack tells you, oblivious to Luke’s implications moments ago.
Jack must have decided it was time to acknowledge some of the fans around you, skating off after he finishes his statement.
“He’ll be out in a minute, just so you know. Got hung up in a pre-game interview,” Luke’s muffled voice travels through the glass.
“Huh? Who? What’re you talking about?” you rush out, growing nervous at the thought of being caught in your attraction to his teammate.
Luke deadpans at you, basically telling you to cut the bullshit. “You know who, Y/N.”
“Really, don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m here for you and Jack, remember?”
“Yeah? Then why do you have Cap’s jersey on?” Luke questions, raising an eyebrow at you.
Your head shoots down to look at the jersey you were wearing, cheeks turning red. You had forgotten you were even wearing it, surprised Jack didn’t notice when he first skated over to you.
“Don’t think you’re getting away with that, by the way. He’ll be getting an earful once he gets out here, don’t you worry. And god help him when Jack finally notices. Might be the first time a player gets a penalty against his own teammate,” Luke continues, looking over to where Jack is chucking pucks over the ice a few feet away.
“It was Nico’s idea. Said he wanted to mess with you guys, is all. Then said if I wore it he would score a hat trick, and if he didn’t he owed me a favor of my choosing. Figured it’d be fun to mess with him and make him do some outrageous task. You know I never miss the opportunity to get under yours and Jack’s skin, either. Couldn’t resist the offer,” you defend yourself.
Luke rolls his eyes, not wanting to call bullshit out here in the open like this, deciding to save the rest of the conversation for when you get home tonight.
You were going to respond, try to further plead your case, when you see a blur of red jump onto the ice from over near the Devils’ bench. Any attention you had granted to Luke was gone, watching a much anticipated head of hair flopping around as Nico does a few circles on the ice. You watch him wave to a few fans around the glass, conversing with a few of his teammates as he made his way around the ice.
Luke watches you follow Nico’s figure glide around on the ice, laughing to himself at how you were just trying to convince him you weren’t looking for anyone.
“I think I’ve proved my point,” you barely hear as Luke starts to skate away, noticing his captain skating over towards your section of the glass.
You’ve tuned out the shouts of Nico’s name around you as he makes eye contact with you, skating towards you with a smile.
“Hey! You’re here!” he winks at you, parroting Jack and Luke’s words. “And I see you chose the right Jersey!”
“Why did no one think I was going to show up?” you huff out, throwing your arms up, foam finger still attached to your hand.
“Jack and Luke were convinced you’d bail because of your aversion to hockey crowds. But I see you’ve made yourself right at home,” he chuckles, nodding towards the foam finger.
“Well, yeah. Had to make myself official, y’know?” you give the foam accessory a small wave.
Nico laughs, sliding his feet back and forth in short strokes, planting his stick on the ice for stability.
“You ready to score that hat trick you promised, Cap?” you shout to him, crossing your arms in a challenging stance.
“Never been more ready in my life, Bouy,” Nico smirks.
“If you keep using that nickname I won’t be so nice in choosing a favor for you to do when you don’t score your hatty,” you threaten, hating that Jack introduced the nickname to Nico in the first place.
“Oh, I’m gonna score that hatty,” he moves closer to the glass, making sure you can hear him. “My good luck charm did exactly what I asked her to do, so I’d say my chances are pretty solid.”
You’re so taken aback from Nico’s words that you completely miss Jack making his way back over to your area, slapping Nico on the back once he reaches his destination.
“Hey, Cap! ‘Bout time you made it out here. Was starting to wonder if someone was going to have to come and save you.”
Nico removes his eyes from your flushed face, turning to chat with Jack as you’re left speechless.
You wonder to yourself, what made Nico so…bold? You hadn’t really known him for that long, and it wasn’t like you two even saw each other that often, so what did you miss? You were definitely into him, there was no denying that, but you didn’t expect any kind of reciprocation from the man in front of you. You’ve always had a habit of letting your mind wander when you find someone attractive.
Not that Nico was just a pretty face. You could see in the few times that you’ve been in his presence that there was a dangerous amount of potential for you to fall for him. The way he seems to love Jack and Luke as much as you do, the genuine kindness that he seems to radiate, and the easy conversation that always seems to flow between the two of you contributing to your budding emotions.
His boldness surprises you, still. You’ve overheard Luke and Jack talk about Nico’s interactions with women. The amount of times they’ve poked fun at his obliviousness to women’s advances not forgotten. Or the way they claim he’s too focused on his career to think about anything other than hockey. You remember one story Jack told of Nico completely misreading a conversation with a woman at the bar, begging Jack to take him home after he all but ran away from the woman, claiming a stomach ache when she tried to coax him into an uber.
So, what was different about you? You feel like you hadn’t spent enough time with the Swiss hockey player to justify his remarks. You wonder if your habit of reading too far into things applies here. The comment could have been a friendly tease, but as you notice Luke standing off to the side, a strange look on his face as he watches his captain glance over at you during his conversation with Jack, you wonder if he knows something you don’t.
“Y/N, what the fuck are you wearing,” you hear Jack’s voice, snapping your head to look at his face, eyes staring at the black C on the upper left side of the jersey you’re wearing.
“A…jersey?” you answer apprehensively.
“Yeah, I can see that. But why do you have on Neeks’ jersey, specifically?” He asks you, but looks at the player standing next to him.
“Guess she decided the better jersey wasn’t even in the Hughes family at all,” Nico references the argument Jack and Luke were having days prior.
“You know what, I’m going to walk away from this before I say something I’ll regret, but this conversation isn’t over,” Jack shoots to two of you a glare before skating away, huffing like a little kid.
“I knew he would get mad!” you point an accusing (foam) finger at Nico.
“Don’t worry, Y/N, he’ll get over it. It’s just one game.”
“Well I’ll let you handle this then, mr. nonchalant. It was your idea, it’s your bomb to diffuse.”
“Gladly. By the way, heads up,” Nico warns you, chucking a puck over the glass, landing on the ground beside you. You bend over to pick it up, noticing the writing on the back.
You read the sribble of “hatty” followed by the date and Nico’s signature in silver marker, looking up to see him skating off with a wink.
———————————————————————————
After you watched Jack throw his fit about you wearing Nico’s jersey from afar, earning nothing but a laugh from the jersey owner himself, they both skated away from each other to start actually warming up for the game ahead. You noticed Jack kept glaring at Nico, shoulder checking him a few times for good measure. Jack wouldn’t even look over at you, earning a pout from you in Luke’s direction, begging him to do something to make Jack love you again.
Luke would just shrug at you as if to say “told you so,” choosing to focus on his warm ups instead. As the players left the ice to prepare for puck drop, you watched Jack finally look over to you, sporting a glare and giving a shake of his head before he disappeared from your view.
Even after the game started, you could feel Jack’s pouting from where you sat. He was hesitant to pass the puck to Nico, costing them a few chances at goals. You cursed him every time, worried that this would’ve happened. You don’t know what was said, but during one of the tv timeouts, Nico skated over to Jack and all you could see was a finger poking out to jab Jack in the chest. Jack’s face growing more and more unimpressed as the conversation went on, but ultimately Jack nodded and skated off, rolling his eyes in your direction.
For the rest of the period, you noticed Jack was better about passing the puck, no longer alienating Nico from his plays. He was still mad, though. You could see it in his body language and how he was playing rougher than he normally does. As soon as the first period was over, you were out of your seat and making your way down to the locker rooms. You flashed your pass and waited patiently after you asked someone to go fetch Jack for you, claiming it was an emergency.
Jack comes walking out of the locker room into the hallway, towel around his neck, jersey left behind.
“Okay, get it all out now, or so help me god I’ll jump onto that ice and beat some sense into you,” you tell him, wanting him to get all of his anger out of his system.
“You always wear one of our jersey’s, Y/N. Always. This is your first time watching me and Luke in a professional game, and you’re wearing a someone else’s jersey?” Jack asks you, a small bit of hurt showing on his face.
“Jack, it was a joke. A last minute suggestion from Nico the other night. He thought it’d be funny since you and Luke were arguing about it,” you tell him, feeling a little bad that he genuinely seems hurt. “Plus, I didn’t really want to choose between you and Luke. It was hard. I had all three jerseyss laying on my bed earlier, and I just couldn’t choose between the two of you.”
“I still don’t like that you wore someone else’s jersey,” Jack pouts, but seems to brighten up a bit, getting over the situation once he voiced his thoughts.
“It’s just one game, Jack, it’ll be fine. I promise this isn’t going to become a habit,” you assure him, reaching up to ruffle his hair, regretting your decision when you feel how sweaty it is.
“You sure about that?” Jack asks you, catching you off guard.
“What?”
“Oh c’mon, Y/N,” Jack starts, dropping his arms to his sides. “Don’t act like you haven’t been staring at him the whole game.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you feel your cheeks heating, hating that this is the second time one of your roommates has asked you about this today.
“You can’t lie to me, remember? Know you too well,” he tells you, reminding you he’s always been able to tell when you’re caught in a lie.
“I mean…maybe I’ve been watching him. So what? He’s your friend, Jack. Not to mention our neighbor and the only teammate of yours I really know,” you try to justify.
“Bullshit. You’re into him.”
“No, I’m not!” you say too quickly, your voice going up in pitch, causing you to clear your throat. The sudden change in conversation came out of nowhere, causing your brain to short circuit.
“Oh yeah? Then why do you ask about him every time Luke and I mention practice, or our jobs in general? Why do you always ask us if Nico made it home when we get home from practice? Or when you spent basically the whole night talking to him at the bar your first night here?” Jack asks you, waiting for your answers.
“I- I don’t ask about him that much,” you say, trying to retrace your conversations with Jack and Luke. Maybe you do ask about him more than you thought. “And I spent the night at the bar being shuffled around from table to table, which you did!” you remind him, having felt like you were speed dating, but platonically.
“When I came to get you to leave you were completely alone with him in a dark corner of the bar,” Jack throws back at you.
“He came and found me. I was on the phone with my mom and he decided to come check on me. I had nothing to do with that,” you defend.
Jack still doesn’t look convinced, crossing his arms once again, tilting his head towards you. “Listen, I’m not mad that you’re into him – out of all the guys on the team I’m thankful it’s him, honestly – but I know how you are. Once you see potential, you go a little starry eyed and don’t think, sometimes,” he reads you.
You open your mouth to respond, trying to defend yourself once again, but Jack interrupts you before you can get a word out.
“All I’m saying is, think about this before you make sure it’s what you really want. Nico’s a great guy, but this team demands a lot of our time and attention, as you can already tell. I just don’t want you getting disappointed if you end up in the middle of something with him and get upset because you feel like you’re being neglected. He wouldn’t ever do it on purpose, but hockey comes first sometimes. I just want you to be prepared for that.”
You don’t know what to say to him. I mean, he is right. You do see potential with Nico, and you wouldn’t mind if you tried to see where things would go with him, but you think Jack is a few steps ahead of you. I mean, you don’t even have the man’s phone number yet. You don’t even really know if Nico is into you, too. You appreciate the intent behind Jack’s words, but you don’t know if they’re even necessary.
You stood there for a few moments, trying to figure out how the conversation even led to what it is. One second you were talking about a jersey, the next Jack is basically giving you his blessing to go after Nico. Had Luke said something to him? Were you too obvious with your forming crush on his captain?
“Thanks, Jack, really. But I don’t even know if he’s the least bit interested in me, so I wouldn’t be too worried if I were you. It’s just a silly little crush. Who knows if it’ll even last,” you finally say through a nervous laugh, wanting to alleviate some of the intensity of the conversation.
Jack just stares at you, looking like he wants to say something but decides against it. The look on his face has you once again wondering if he knows something you don’t. You decided to let it go, though, and shoo him back into the locker room.
“Alright, talk over. Go back in there and get ready, you have some Rags to beat!” you push him away from you. You hear him laugh as you walk away, thinking about his words the whole way back to your seat.
———————————————————————————
Shit. He actually did it. He scored a fucking hat trick. The crowd goes absolutely wild when Nico’s shot sails straight into the goal as the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game. You jump up from your seat, screaming as loud as you can with the crowd around you. You bang against the glass, cheering for Nico as he celebrates with his teammates.
Once he breaks away from the group hug, he skates right over to you, pointing a gloved finger in your direction. You flash him a huge smile, not even caring that you lost whatever bet – if you could even call it that – you had going on with Nico. You were too high on the atmosphere. The goal causing the Devils to win in the last second, ego a little inflated at the thought that you contributed to it.
After the players left the ice and the crowd started to disperse a bit, you slowly made your way back down to the locker room, having been told to wait there after the game by Jack. You took in the sight of the happy fans milling about the arena, soaking in the energy for a little bit longer. You didn’t realize just how much you were soaking it in until you realized the time, figuring the guys would be changed and ready to go any minute.
 As you were walking down the hallway to where other friends and family of the team gathered, you felt a harsh contact with your shoulder. It flung your body back, nearly making you lose your balance until you caught yourself at the last second.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you,” you said, knowing it wasn’t your fault, but apologizing anyways.
“Obviously,” you heard a deep voice say, a man in a blue Rangers jersey standing across from you, rolling his eyes.
“Well, no need to be rude about it. You bumped in to me, y’know,” you grumbled out, a little pissed as the man’s response after you apologized first.
“Watch it, bitch. Just cause your shitshow of a team won tonight doesn’t mean you’re truly better than us. Just wait till next game. We’ll smoke your asses,” he spits out at you, letting you smell the alcohol on his hot breath.
“What the hell does the game have to do with you bumping in to me? The two are completely unrelated,” you question, stepping back and scrunching your nose at the foul smell.
“Keep talking, bitch, and I’ll show you just how bad we can beat the Devils’ asses,” the man steps forward, stumbling a bit before correcting himself.
“Alright, chill out. It’s just a game, buddy,” you back up against the wall next to you, trying to put some distance between you and him.
“God, why do you puck bunnies never shut the fuck up? I literally told you to stop talking, what part of that don’t you understand?” he backs you up even further, not leaving much room for you to make an escape.
“Technically you told me to keep talking,” you say before you can think better of it.
The man basically growls at you raising his hand back. To do what, you never find out, because a voice brings him back to reality, making him seem to remember he’s in public.
“I suggest you drop your hand and step away.”
The man’s head whips around, looking behind him. Once he steps back from you slightly, you make your escape, removing yourself from the wall.
You see Nico standing a few feet away from you, a grey suit on his body, his hair covered by a cream color beanie.
“Oh, how convenient. Captain to the rescue,” the guy slurs, turning his body to fully face Nico.
“Do I need to call security or are you going to be smart and get the fuck out of my arena?” Nico spits, surprising you with his harshness.
“Whatever. I’m going. Don’t be so dramatic. The puck bunny started it, anyways,” the man waves you off, stumbling away without a glance back.
Nico watches him walk away, stepping towards you the second the man is out of view.
“Are you okay? Did he do anything to you? Do I need to go get security?” He fires off questions, concern present in his brown eyes.
“No, I’m fine. He bumped into me then started spewing some bullshit about the game. I asked him how the two were related and he just kept talking about how he was gonna show me how ‘we can really beat the Devils’ asses’,” you put up air quotes.
“Are you sure?” his eyes continue to look you up and down, darting across your face to check for any sign showing you weren’t okay.
“Really, it’s fine. He didn’t do anything. Thank you, though. For scaring him away,” you assure him, causing him to relax.
“Of course. Seems to be a pattern, after all. Me running to your rescue,” he references your previous encounters. Letting you into your apartment, getting the bartender’s attention so you could order a drink that same night, his help when you were making dinner just a few nights ago. He really did always show up when you needed help.
You look up at him with a smile. “My very own knight in shining armor.”
He bows dramatically. “M’lady.”
You laugh at the action, causing Nico to join in.
“So I guess I owe you a congratulations, huh?” you ask after your laughter dies down.
Nico beams at you, pulling a stack of three pucks out of the bag slung over his shoulder, the tape they’re held together by reading ‘hat trick”. He holds the pucks out towards you, signaling you to grab them.
“Here, they’re yours. You’re the reason I got them, after all,” he tells you, placing the pucks into your hands.
“I don’t think I had anything to do with it,” you look at your hand before looking back up at Nico.
“Sure you did. I told you if you wore the jersey I’d score one. And you did. And then I scored three goals. I told you, you’re my goodluck charm,” he smiles at you, shrugging like a hat trick was no big deal.
You roll your eyes at him, trying to fight a smile. “Sure, whatever you say, Cap.”
He chuckles at your sarcasm, shaking his head at you.
“Guess I need to pocket that ridiculous favor I had in mind, then,” you tell him, toying with the pucks, thinking about how he gave you four different pucks tonight.
“I’m sure you can save it for future use. Think you’ll be able to cash it in sooner than you think,” he tells you, a confused look on your face.
“You won, though. I wore the jersey, you scored three goals. That was the whole thing,” you remind him, not knowing where he was going with his statement.
“You never asked me what I got if I did score a hatty.”
You were taken aback by his words, not realizing that was part of the deal. “Okay…well, what do you get, then?”
“You have to do me a favor,” he tells you, grin on his face.
You furrow your brows, confused. “I thought the whole point of my end of the deal was because I already did you a favor?”
“You did. But now I get to ask you for another one,” he rocks back on his heels, way too giddy about the situation.
You look at him, a little scared at what he has planned. He just continues to look at you, his shit-eating grin still extremely present.
“Okay…what is it?” you ask him, getting impatient.
“Oh, I’m not telling you yet. I’ll cash it in when I’m ready,” He replies, amused at the unamused look on your face.
“Seriously? You’re not going to tell me what cruel fate you’re subjecting me to?”
You hear the voices of Jack and Luke echoing through the hallway on the other end of the room. You turn your head away from Nico, watching the two brothers make their way towards you, lost in their own conversation.
“All in due time, dear Bouy,” Nico says, taking a step back from you.
Your distaste for the nickname shows on your face, causing Nico’s eyes to twinkle, loving how mad you get over the silly name he still hasn’t learned the origin of.
“Whatever. Keep it to yourself, then. I don’t care,” you lie.
“Have a good night. See you soon,” Nico says with a wink, turning to walk in the direction of Jack and Luke, giving them a wave as he passes them. Both of them look up and notice you standing where he just came from, turning to look at each other with raised eyebrows.
You look down at the pucks in your hand once more, looking at the emblem on top noting what game and date they were from. When you look at the bottom of the last puck, you catching a streak of silver reflect off of the fluorescent lights in the hallway. Turning it completely upside down, you make out the 9 digits of a phone number scribbled along the bottom, matching the handwriting of the words and signature on the first puck Nico gave you that night.
“Hey, ready to go? We’re starving. Luke wants waffles so we’re going to meet a few of the guys at a diner not far from the apartment, you want go?” Jack asks as the two approach you.
You don’t respond, too stuck on the fact that Nico gave you his phone number on the bottom of his hat trick pucks. You’re impressed at how smooth it was, but also freaking out and trying not to jump to conclusions. It’s just a phone number. It could mean nothing. Maybe he just wanted you to have it because you’re neighbors? Or because you’re so close with Jack and Luke. Maybe he wanted you to have it for emergencies.
“Hello, earth to Y/N. You good?” Luke snaps you out of your trance, bringing the pucks down to press the bottom against your leg, hiding the phone number from your roommates.
“What? Yeah. I’m fine. Great. Perfect.”
“Okay…” Jack trails off, giving you a suspicious look. “So, yes or no to the waffles?”
“Oh my god, yes. The answer to waffles is always yes,” you say excitedly.
“Okay then, let’s go. Some of the guys are already there. I’ll drive,” Jack laughs at you, walking towards the exit leading to where the players park.
“Shotgun!” Luke yells out, turning back to see your reaction to the competition that was so fierce when you were kids.
Your mind is once again on the pucks in your hands, and the player that gave them to you. You look at the numbers again, deciding the boys were far enough ahead for you to safely sneak a peek, wanting to make sure they were actually there and you weren’t seeing things.
Luke just smiles and shakes his head, remembering watching his captain frantically ask for a sharpie in the locker room, writing something on the exact set of pucks you now have in your hands before bolting from the room like a man on a mission.
178 notes · View notes
f0point5 · 2 days
Note
would you consider writing the time when max realized that he loved yn?
i remember that he was like in a mindset of idgaf what happens with her im js happy being best friends and having her in my life but i wonder how he got to that point
The way this came out…idk I hope you like it 😂 I really wish I’d retconned this whole situation but I stayed true to the fic timeline.
I just…I really hope you don’t hate it 🫠
✨Set after Max wins his 3rd championship in Qatar✨
Tumblr media
Honestly, who (is he) to fight the alchemy?
Max has been in love before. He knows what it feels like. It felt like winning a race. The adrenaline, the elation, the satisfaction, the sliver of relief. He didn’t think there was a better feeling, and if you feel that when you’re with someone, then that must be love.
He never felt like that with you. So he wasn’t in love. He loved you, but he wasn’t in love. Thank God for that, he’d always thought to himself. Max didn’t put effort into games he wouldn’t win and the games you played with men didn’t have a rule book. He was just so lucky, to have you as a friend, and a roommate, and a feline co-parent, and that’s how it would stay.
Except, when the journalist had asked him if you were going to live with him after he retired, he didn’t know what to say. Of course you would, except, how would your boyfriend feel about that? And of course he wanted you to, but he wanted a family, too. But you were family, in some complicated way that he’d never realised before that moment might mean that you wouldn’t always be…with him.
And he didn’t have the desire or the language skills to explain that to a random German journalist. He’d rattled off some answer about how he never knew what the future would bring. It was true, he didn’t think much about the future. But he should have, because when he did it always had you in it.
He wanted a house, and a wife, and kids. It wasn’t like he envisaged doing all that with you. Except, he hadn’t envisaged doing any of it without you, either. It was always you imagined having breakfast with, you he imagined would teach his kids to ski, you he thought about when he thought about buying one of those mansions in the hills above Monaco. Naively, he hadn’t imagined either of you with partners that would mind you and Max living your lives together. It sounded fucking stupid when he thought about it. But, it’s not like he was going to marry you, because he’s not in love with you.
It’s not like I’m in love with her. He’d said that before.
Aren’t you, Max?
Isn’t he?
Is he?
So now here he is, at this totally-not-a-party party, celebrating his this third world championship, wondering if he’s in love. Wondering if that even matters. The music is loud, not enough to drown out his thoughts. He can’t even drink too much because he still has a race tomorrow. He feels lightheaded enough.
He doesn’t know why he’s questioning himself. He has an answer. He knows what being in love feels like, and he doesn’t feel that about you. How he does feel about you, is…not quantifiable. Except he’d really like a name for it right about now. One that’s not going to spin his whole world off its axis. But then, he’s not exactly the axis, is he? Not really.
He should feel like the centre of the universe tonight. He’s lost count of how many times he’s received praise and congratulations, plaudits, and pictures, even gifts. Everyone wants to be in his orbit, everyone wants to talk to him, everyone except you.
You’re leaning against the balcony, bopping along to the music, talking to his dad of all people, your flushed face and lazy grin telltale signs you’ve had too much to drink. Jos is as close as he ever gets to smiling, a telltale sign he’s had too much to drink, and the two of you are, as usual, talking over each other. His eyes linger on your long legs and gentle curves. It would be cutting a corner, to say he’s in love with you, because how can you not be at least a little bit infatuated with the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen? But that’s not love, exactly. Even half drunk, with all this talk of spinning and the party beginning to blur at its edges, the only thing he can see clearly is you. You don’t even notice him looking, because you’re so used to feeling eyes on you.
No, being around you has never felt like winning much of anything. It actually feels a bit like he’s fighting for his life. It feels like…driving, he realises, as the gin starts to hit.
Being around you was like being in the RB19. Like being behind the wheel of something that could kill you, but fits you like a second skin. Like the illusion of having control of a force of nature. It was like living on a knife edge, but building a home there. Comfortable with the uncomfortable, they’d called him, and nothing had ever made him as uncomfortable as you.
If that was being in love, he’d probably been in love with you for as long as his dad said he was.
You don’t notice him looking, but Jos does. He waves Max over, and Max is glad for an excuse. His body gets up before he’s decided to, and he blinks furiously as he walks, trying to focus his thoughts enough to hold a conversation with you when he’s beginning to think he might-
“Maxy,” you say, grinning like it’s the first time you’ve seen him all night.
Fuck. Fuck.
Oh, fuck. The gin’s coming back. For a second he feels like he’s either going to ask you to marry him or vomit all over you.
“I’m leaving. She’s all yours,” Jos says, and Max steadies himself. His dad leans over and gives him one last hug before switching to Dutch. “Get her to bed. And yourself, also. You’ve still got to race tomorrow,”
Max nods and waves him off, closing his arms around you when you wobble, leaning into him for stability. Jos gives you a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, and you teeter again, pushing you further into Max. The extra weight is like a balm on what is now a gaping, raw wound, with the nerves exposed. He will never recover from this.
You turn in his arms, scrunching your nose in displeasure as you look up at him. “I hate this hat,” you flick the brim of his World Champion cap. “Worst hat they ever made you. Next year, we do a better one,”
“Okay,” he says, chuckling as the hat leaves his head.
“Can I have this?” You’ve already put it on.
“Sure,”
Take it. Take my Valkyrie. Take the trophy. Take my last name.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He doesn’t know how he’s looking at you. Is it different than he looked at you two hours ago? Different then when you were 19?
He just shrugs, tipping the hat back for you, since it’s so big. “You’re drunk,” he yells over the music.
You lean in, so close that he’s intoxicated by the scent of your perfume, champagne, and Red Bull. He turns away from you slightly, because he’s had too much to drink to be this close to you.
“I know,” you whisper to him, your lips grazing his cheek as you talk. That’s not helping. He turns back to you, finding your eyes searching his. For the first time, he’s worried what you might see. Because you’ve always seen him too clearly. It was awful, then exhilarating, now it’s just fucking terrifying. Your eyes narrow and Max thinks you’re about to outright accuse him of wanting- “You’re supposed to be drunk, too,”
He laughs. He laughs at your pout, at getting away with it, for a little while longer, at least, and he laughs because on the night he’s won a world championship he realises he lost his heart a long time ago.
Loving you didn’t feel like a winning a race, it felt like driving in one. And after all, isn’t driving all he ever wanted to do?
“I am, Engel,” he says, “trust me, I am.”
Tumblr media
302 notes · View notes
inuiiwonderland · 3 days
Text
Stupid teenager in love
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ace seems to be in deep denial about his feelings for the prefect. Everyone can tell the heartslabyul first year has feelings for the prefect of ramshackle but he’s still denying it! So, the rest of the first year gang take it upon themselves to help Ace come to terms with his feelings.
Ace trappola x gn! Reader
Genre: Fluff (shocker), the first year gang smacking some sense into Ace, Ace getting jealous, and um that’s it🤍
-
A loud cackle can be heard in the lounge as some people nearby glanced at their booth and some even gave them weird looks. The first year gang side eye ace. They were all trying to have a serious conversation with the red head but he couldn’t even take the situation seriously!
“Me? In love with the prefect? HAHA! Please as if!”
“We never said that you were in love with them”
“Oh” His face heats up before he quickly looks away.
“But you guys are making it seem like I am!” He says as he rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, but we wouldn’t be surprised if you were” It was Jack who spoke as he sighs and shakes his head. Ace just groans as he slumps further down onto the chair.
“Jeez why do you guys even think I like the prefect anyway?” Everyone looked at him in utter disbelief as he continued to talk.
“Are you being serious right now?”
“Yer so dumb it’s actually making my head hurt!”
“I know you’re dumb, but I didn’t know you were this dumb”
“Hey!”
“It’s a shame your parents have you as their child!”
“Okay that's so not cool!” He glares at them before getting up from his seat and grabbing his bag.
“I don’t know how many more times I have to say this but I’m only going to say it once. I don’t like the prefect!”
And he stomps off.
The rest of the group give each other a knowing look.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Yep”
“Uh huh”
“Unfortunately”
“He’s a stupid teenager in love”
“Agree” they all say in unison”
-
Giggles can be heard in the gym as Ace glowing glare is directed towards his upperclassman. The water bottle in his hand is crushed by how tightly he’s holding it.
“Jamil! You did really well in today's game!” You say as you hand him a water bottle. Jamil smiles and takes it from your hands. Thanking you before the two of you continue to talk.
“Oooo what’s got crabby so mad?” Ace was so busy glaring daggers at Jamil that he didn’t notice Floyd sneaking up behind him.
“Fuck off Floyd!”
“Eh? What did you just say?”
Shit
“Just leave me alone and go bother someone else”
“Mmm don’t wanna!~”
Ace just decides to ignore him as he continues to watch you and Jamil interact.
Why do you look so happy? And why are you being all touchy touchy towards Jamil?! Do you like him or something?
As ace continues to list off all the different possibilities about why you were so close to Jamil, that he didn’t notice the ball that was heading towards him at a ridiculously fast pace.
“Ace!”
“Ace look out!!”
He snaps out of his thoughts and his eyes turn to look at you.
“Huh?”
SMACK!!
The loud sound of a ball hitting something was heard in the gym as gasps echoed across the whole room.
Ace felt his whole face burn as he hisses at the impact of the ball hitting him. He groaned as he felt liquid fall from his nose.
“Ace!” He slowly opened his eyes to be met with your worried face.
He could feel his whole face flush
“Ace! Oh my sevens are you okay?”
“Floyd, why'd you do that?!”
“He was ignoring me and being rude!” Jamil just sighs as he massages his temple and sucks in a deep breath.
“Prefect, You don’t mind taking him to the infirmary do you?”
“Of course not! Ace c’mon I’m taking you to the nurses office!”
“Ughh”
“Floyd”
“Aww you guys are so boring and mean! It was funny!”
-
The trip to the nurse’s office was quick. You sat next to Ace as he held the ice pack near his injury. He was mumbling stuff under his breath as he stared into space.
“Ace”
Nothing
“Acee”
Still nothing
“Ace!”
“Huh” He hisses and holds his head as a massive headache forms. You quickly pass him a water and make- well more like force him to lay on your lap.
“What’d you do to make Floyd throw a basketball at you?” He scoffs as he rolls his eyes.
“I didn’t do anything!” He winces when he feels the headache come back again.
“Well you must’ve done something! He said you were ignoring him and being rude”
“What?!” He regrets it once his head starts hurting again.
“You should stop moving and shouting too much! That’s why your headache keeps coming back to get your ass!”
“Whatever”
“Anyways, what did you do?”
“I already told you, I didn’t do anything” he mumbles. Enjoying being able to lay down on your lap.
Wait what?
No he’s not enjoying it! He’s just trying to get comfortable!
“Mm that’s not what Mr mood swings said”
“Ugh I don’t-“ He stops his sentence once he remembers.
Right
He was to busy glaring daggers at Jamil that he didn’t bother paying attention to Floyd
“Fuck my life” He says as he closes his eyes.
You tilt your head in confusion before continuing to comb your hands through his hair.
It was silent. Neither of you were talking and the two of you didn’t mind that. It was rather a comfortable silence.
That is until the doors to the infirmary were slammed open.
“What happened?”
“Ha you dummy! What ya do to make Floyd throw a ball at you?” Epel laughs as ace glares at him.
“Shut up you dwarf!”
“Eh?! Oh you little-“
“That’s enough” You thank Jack as he just nods at you before looking down at Ace who was currently laying on your lap. He raises a brow before looking at the others.
Deuce, epel, and sebek give each other a knowing look before deuce smirks.
“I see you're doing okay now. Do you feel comfortable ace?” You can hear the slight tease in his voice as you only chuckle.
The red head only looks at him confused until he realizes that he’s laying on your lap. He quickly shoots up but later regretting it as the headache from earlier quickly rushes to him.
“Shut up!” He quickly gets up before stumbling out of the nurse’s office.
“What’s up with him?” You ask. The others just shrugged.
If only you knew
-
It’s been a constant battle with ace and the first years. They have been trying for the last couple of weeks to help Ace come to terms with his feelings towards you. But he’s just too stubborn!
He doesn’t believe he likes you that way!
You’re his friend! He’s the first friend you made when you first got here!
The two of you only see each other as friends!
Nothing more, nothing less.
Just friends
That’s what he likes to believe
He was still bitter at the way you were being all warm and cozy with Jamil BUT that’s because he doesn’t want you to replace him!
He definitely wasn’t jealous
Nope nada nu uh
Definitely not because of that
The walk to the mirror chambers felt longer than usual. He was busy scrolling through twsttok that he didn’t hear his name being called from behind him.
“Ace, don't make me throw something at you!”
Now that got his attention
He quickly turns around to only see you
You
“Mm? What do you want?”
“Ouch. You don’t want me around or something?” You joke and he just rolls his eyes.
“I was just teasing”
“Yeah I know” You walked beside him as he continued scrolling down the app.
“Where’s grim?”
“With the rest of the first years” He frowns. Weird, you never go anywhere without that furball.
“So why were you looking for me?”
“Hey I just wanted to spend some time with you” He felt his face flush.
Shit! Say something!
“Am I that charming that you couldn’t resist being away from me for too long?” He teases. He was trying so hard to not make it look like your words held so much power over him.
“Yeah you’re so charming that I can’t spend a second away from you”
His eyes widen
Okay he definitely didn’t expect that
You laugh as you smacked his shoulder
“What? You expected me to just stand there and say nothing back?”
“I well duh!” You rolled your eyes.
“No but seriously. I do want to spend some time with you”
“Well I can’t blame ya. I’m just toooo irresistible!”
“More like irritating”
The both of you laughed as you made your way to the mirror chamber.
Sevens, when was the last time Ace felt like taking someone out on a date and having the urge to kiss them?
His last relationship didn’t end all too well but with you. He just feels more…well alive.
But there’s no way in all of twisted wonderland that you won’t feel some sort of way for him.
“Y’know…I notice how weird you have been acting lately”
“Eh? Weird? Ugh, the weird one is you!”
“Shut up pea brain!” You smacked him as he only laughs.
You look cute when you’re all riled up.
“Anyways as I was saying! I noticed you have been acting rather strangely these couple of months”
“How?”
“Well for starters, you’ve been awfully clingy around me, you got ten times more protective, and you literally scare away every guy who tries to talk to me. Why’s that?” Ace's grip on his bag tightens as he tries to not look at you.
“Don’t know what your talking about”
“Oh c'mon you know exactly what I’m talking about”
“Nope. Not a single clue” You sigh as you stop walking completely.
“Ace” He stops walking and turns around to face you.
“What?”
“Why do you keep denying it?”
What
“What?” His brows furrowed as he frowned.
“Why do you keep denying that you like me?”
It’s almost like time stops completely. The two of you just stood there. Not saying a single word.
Until you spoke up
“Am I that bad or embarrassing for you to admit-“
“No!” You flinch at his tone and he immediately shuts up.
“No it’s not that! It’s just-“
“Then what is it? I've been waiting for a confession for ages yet you still haven’t told me anything!”
“Just tell me the truth. Do you like me or not?”
He just stood there. Shocked.
A flash of hurt was seen in your features before you sighed and turned around.
“Wait!”
You stopped and turned around to see Ace right in front of you.
Fuck it
“I do like you! I always have! I just never came to terms with my feelings because I knew you never saw me as something else but a friend!”
Fuck
Fuck
Fuck
He did it
He actually did it
And he could feel himself cringe at the cheesy words but he didn’t care.
He wants you to know that he likes you. More than just a friend.
You stared at him before you broke into a fit of giggles.
“Huh? What’s so funny?”
“I know”
“What” you smiled at him before booping his nose.
“I said I know. I always knew you liked me. I was just waiting for you to finally say something”
WHAT?!
“HUH?!” You giggle before kissing his cheek.
“It’s okay because I also like you too!”
Ace just stood there frozen.
“Finally!”
“Sevens you were going to give me an aneurysm with how long you took to confess”
“Congratulations trappola! You finally gathered the courage to confess to the prefect!”
“Congrats dummy”
“Yuck! All this lovey dovey stuff is making me sick!” Grim complains as he sticks out his tongue. You only giggle before looking back at Ace who was still lost.
“You okay?”
“Yeah I am….why didn’t you ever say you liked me back?”
“Because I wanted you to say it first. It took some pushing but you still told me first nonetheless” He just shakes his head before smiling.
“But I guess it wasn’t a lie when I said that I was irresistible”
“Ugh fuck off”
Now it was his turn to laugh
They were right
He’s just a stupid teenager in love
-
My very first fluff fic??😱 (I think… idk I forgot😭)
Anyways I just wanted to write something sweet and cute so I hope you guys like!🤍🤍🤍
228 notes · View notes
Text
Winter's King 11
Tumblr media
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: friday, my day, am i right?
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
Tumblr media
You turn your legs over the bench, feet dangling over the floor as you look at the king, dumbfounded and dozy. He sits in the chair by the table, toying with a grab between his fingers as he watches you. Your heart hammers behind your ears as your breath licks like flames in your lungs. You daren’t ask it aloud but what is he doing there? 
“I only meant to look in upon you,” King Geralt says as if he can hear your thoughts. “I fathomed the night was long tending to my wife and I would make sure you are well-rested.” 
“Your highness,” you stand and smooth the front of your shift, realising you wear nothing more. No dress, no apron. You feel vulnerable to his golden eyes as they follow your hands. The fabric pulls taut on your chest before you can right yourself. “I... Apologies, I am unkempt.” 
You search around and go to take your cap from where you hung it. You cover your shorn locks and tie it tight above your nape. The king’s eyes narrow at you. 
“What is the purpose of keeping your hair short?” He wonders as he drops the grape back to the plate. 
You look at him, shuddering, “I do not... it is only as I’ve been bid, your highness. In Debray, all the maids do so.” 
“You are not in Debray now,” he muses. 
You’re quiet. You’re not sure how to answer that. You gulp and grab the clean dress from the pile and throw it over your head. It hangs loose, not like Jazlene’s carefully cut and laced gowns. You reach for your apron and the king clears his throat. You stop and look at him. 
“Your highness?” You blink, still dazed by his unexpected appearance. 
“I did go to see the lady of Debray,” he intones, “she was in a poor state. She would not permit me in her chambers for her condition.” 
“Oh my, your highness, I am sorry to hear. Shall I go look in--” 
“She has maids a plenty,” he insists, “I hoped...” he leans forward and reaches to his belt. You notice the top of his slate grey tunic is untied and shows the trim of his chest hair, “to share a pastime with her. I hoped perhaps we might see past our differences at last and start our progress towards the kingdom. Alas, despite my warnings, she overindulged and has left herself incapacitated.” 
You stare at him, clutching the apron. He flicks his fingers dismissively as his other hand brings forth a pouch, “leave that. Come, sit.” 
You can only obey. You put the apron down and cross the chamber. As you near the table, he pushes the tray of dishes out of the way. You lower yourself onto a stool as he opens the mouth of the pouch. He pours out the rattling contents. Carved diced in varying shapes, symbols painted on each side, and man longer pieces that look like bone. 
“It is a game,” he explains as the contents roll out, “I’d like to teach you.” 
You look down as he sorts out the many pieces into sets. He is lithe in his arrangement. When he is down, he presses his hands flat to frame the assortment. 
“You don’t mind?” He wonders, “if you are tired still...” 
“Your highness, I am awake,” you rub your eyes and drop your hands to your lap. “A game? How do you play it?” 
You lean forward and he seems pleased by your intent. He curls his fingers and takes a breath. 
“It is like bartering at a market, or the like,” he begins, “you see how the pieces differ,” he points to the longer ones, “there are tick marks here,” he shows you how one has an ex, another a line this way and the next that way, and a circle in another. “We each have our dice,” he divides those up and pushes a set towards you, “it is a matter of trade and cost.” 
“Hmm,” you push your lip out, concentrating. 
He continues to explain the balancing and leveraging of each roll. How once you have collected all the pieces with a particular mark, you may wield a greater demand. You tilt your head thoughtfully, your own fingers drawing lines in the air as you make sense of his instruction. You think you understand but remain uncertain. 
“We may begin simple,” he intones. 
So suddenly are you swept up in the intricacy of the game, that your shock at his appearance dissipates. You can only think of the pieces as he rolls a die. Then the next. You follow his lead and when at last the first trade comes, you hear his offer but have no response. 
“You have a question?” He prompts. 
“I am thinking, your highness,” you squint as your forehead lines. 
“I can tell,” he says brightly. 
You peer up at him and smooth your expression. His cheek twitches as he leans back. You counter his offer and he clucks. 
“Mm, I see,” he rests his chin on his knuckles. 
He hands over his pieces and you bite the inside of your lip. You gather them to your side of the table and frown. You toy with the dice and wait. 
“Your turn,” he urges, “unless you are not having fun.” 
“It is an interesting game but I don’t want to be let to win,” you mutter. 
“I am not letting you win. It is the first turn and it is a long game,” he chides. 
“Mm, yes,” you pick through the dice, “your highness.” 
He exhales and leans on the armrest, “take your time. I am no hurry to be away.” 
You peer up at him and find his gaze set on you. You return your attention to the dice and toss them. He’s a king, should he have better things to do? 
⚔️
“It appears you have bested me,” King Geralt sighs and puts his dice down, pressing his hand flat over them, “you have the mind of a councilour.” 
“Your highness,” you bring your hands back to wring in your lap.  
“Truly, you’ve taken well to it,” he remarks, “it has been some time since I had harrying competition.” 
You offer a slight curve of your lips and look away. The window is dulled as the sunlight descends. You blanch and slip forward on the chair. 
“Your highness,” you stand, “it is late. I should--” 
“You may remain,” he assures you as he shows his palm kindly, “no hurry, little maid.” 
“But... shouldn’t you--” you keep yourself from asking after his duty. That is not for you to mind, “the queen will need dinner.” 
“As I said before, this place is ripe with servants,” he says coolly, “you should sit and bask in the time you have off your feet.” 
You face him and slowly sit. He drags his fingers along the wooden armrest as his expression tightens. He watches you as his square jaw clenches, “unless you would rather be away from me?” 
You twist around to look at the door, then to him. 
“I will go wherever you command, your highness.” 
“Yes, yes,” his hand balls to a fist, “that is not what I...” he sighs with exasperation, “I want to know what you desire. What do you want? What do you need?” 
There’s a stirring in your chest as he leans slightly forward, his eyes alight. You peer into the golden pools and your lips part. He is a king and yet speaks as if he would serve you. 
“I...” you wisp and clamp your lips tight, measuring your words, “I want to serve you and the queen, your highness. I want to serve the realm.” 
He huffs again and grimaces, “for yourself. Not the queen, not me, not the people.” 
“Hmmm,” you look down and shrug. You shake your head. You can’t think of anything. “I have a new dress and a hot bath and good food. I can think of nothing. What of you, your highness? What do you want?” You lift your chin slowly, “just for you?” 
Your question seems to startle him. He winces and for a moment, seems breathless. He stands suddenly and takes a step forward. He’s close and you think he might lunge at you. You shy away, expecting the same wrath you inspire in the queen. He falters and backs away. 
“I want...” he grits and turns his back to you. 
He walks to the window and looks out onto the lawns. He hangs his head and grips the window’s edge. He lets out a gravelly sigh. 
“I want you...” he utters, “...to come walk with me in the gardens. I would like to do so before we must depart.” 
You rise again, “yes, your highness, I will put my shoes on then.” 
He puffs out into the deepening dusk. You can feel his frustration roiling from his figure. You grab the stockings and the shoes and return to the chair. You roll the stocking onto your foot and pull it up your leg, rumpling up one side of the skirt as you do. As you hike up the next, the king faces you, surprising you before you can drop the fabric back down to your toes. You sheepishly bend to put your shoes on, embarrassed. 
“Thank you, little maid,” he approaches and offers his hand, “for keeping a miserable king company.” 
You look at his hand. It’s big and calloused and lined like a map. The invitation seems overly friendly. You accept it, not so bold as to turn him away. 
“Your highness,” You murmur as he squeezes your hand then lets his arm fall straight, tugging you away from the table. 
Silently, he lets his grip brush from your hand and instead hooks his arm through yours. It is an overly familiar gesture but you allow it. What more can a maid do? As you near the door, he stops and untangles from you completely, stepping away as if struck by the oddity of his actions. He reaches for the door handle and inhales. 
He opens the door and steps into the corridor, you follow him, just a pace back. He looks over his shoulder at you then turns ahead. You scurry to keep up with his long strides. He stops at the end of the hallway and you nearly collide with his elbow. 
“I am not miserable because of you,” he angles his head towards you as he keeps his voice low, “if you worried...” he shakes his head at himself, “come, little maid.” 
You do as he says and trail him through the corridors. It is late and while soldiers remain on watch, most of the lords and ladies have tucked away for their evening meals. The king continues his unstoppable advance with you at his heels. Down a flight of stairs and across the great hall. 
Outside, several soldiers bow their heads at his passing and another nears. He dismisses them without a word. You carry on, sensing how his mood darkens with the sky. You’re uncertain of his demeanour, so suddenly shifting from affable to affronted. You didn’t say what he wanted and now he is unhappy. He can be rather like his wife. 
He stalks onward to the archway that marks the green gardens of the capital castle. He passes between the leafy pillars and stops to look this way then that, then opts to walk along the middle row. You flit between the hedges behind him as the sky ripples with the looming night and a cool breeze stirs around your skirts. 
He is silent as he walks, almost as if he’s forgotten you. You wonder if you fall out of step, if you are lost behind him, would he even notice? Finally, he slows before a pond dug into the center of the gardens, amid lilies and daisies and blue bells. The moon shines down and reflects off the tepid pool. 
He treads around the edge of the pond as you stand by the bushes. He circles around to a wooden bench and sits. His shoulders slouch and he leans his head back. The silver light limns his strong features. When he opens his eyes, they glow as they did in your dream. 
“I have come this far, I have conquered as I vowed to, I have vanquished the old king,” he speaks to the sky, “I have done all I sought to and yet I am wanting.” 
You dip your head, sad for him. You might assume a king would be happy for all his gold and power. That a crown would bring delight as much as glory. All you see is a man in mourning. For all he’s won, he’s lost just as much. Loyal men and many months. 
“I have a wife who is petulant, I have an ally who is cowardice, and I have nothing left here to claim,” he continues, “should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.” 
He hangs his head and leans forward, gripping the edge of the bench. He sits in silence as he watches the water. A frog hops onto a large stone protruding from the shallows and steals your attention. You watch it leap again and again until it meets the other side. 
“Little maid...” the sultry purr crawls over you and you glance over to find the king observing you, “sit with me.” 
You shiver and cautiously make your way around the pond. You near him and sit at the end of the bench opposite him. You fixate on the moonlit water. He leans to grab your wrist and hauls you closer. You sidle down until you are almost against him. He slips his hand around yours, covering it in his grasp. He pulls it onto his thigh and rests it there. 
He clings to you just like that. You feel a pluck in your chest for him. He has a wife who should share in his troubles but she is too buried in the anguish she made for herself. Yet, she is not there, and you are; a paltry substitute for what he truly needs. 
Silence pervades the night but for the chirping of insects and the sweet singing of birds. The king’s grasp on you tightens, then lessens, and tightens again. He eases his hold entirely and pets your hand. 
“Will you play another game with me?” His timbre is silty as he looks over at you. 
“A game, your highness?” You babble. 
He hums and nods, “a child’s game,” he explains, “it is simple.” He sits straight and pushes back his hair, “you will run and I will catch you.” 
Your heart lurches. Your lashes flutter. You played the game before, when you were young, with the queen even. But that was years ago and you were smaller and faster. You look at the king. 
“Your highness,” you utter. 
“It’s my command,” he says, “run.” 
200 notes · View notes
wenellyb · 58 minutes
Text
I have to talk about this scene once again because I feel like there is so much to say.
Tumblr media
What Buck meant when he said it was "exhausting":
First he asked Tommy for a tour because he wanted to get to know him better (his words, not mine).
At the end of the tour Buck asked Tommy out but it didn't work out ( Eddie arrived and Tommy left with him).
Instead of asking him out on another day or calling him, Buck did the most Buck thing ever by trying to find roundabout ways of seeing him again.
First, he tried the easy way, by trying to join Trivia night when Eddie mentionned he was seeing Tommy again, but Eddie asked him to babysit Chris instead.
So he went for a different approach by trying to get Eddie to invite him to the basketball game.
When that didn't work out, he got Chimney to invite him.
That's why Buck said that trying to get Tommy's was "exhausting", because it was. He set up so many ploys to get to spend time with Tommy and none of them worked.
That's also why Tommy is surprised, because he didn't see all the nonsense Buck was pulling to get to see him. Tommy really thought this was about Eddie and Buck being afraid of losing his friend.
But if Buck had been trying to spend time with Eddie, all he had to do was ask.... they hang out all the time. The only times Buck is actively trying to join Eddie's plans is when he know Tommy will be joining.
Buck never behaved like he did when Eddie had plans with other people than Tommy.
I can't even blame Buck because this is exactly how I act when I have a crush😂
91 notes · View notes
pearlparty · 3 days
Text
Distraction
Tumblr media
Note to self: never ask for a spot ever again.  Just die like a woman when you drop the bar. 
Pairing: Austin x Reader (no use of y/n)
Summary: Austin teases you at the gym and you get distracted from your workout.
Warnings: Language, innuendo, flirting, established relationship
Word Count: 2075 ish
Note: Breaking another impromptu indefinite hiatus to post lol. Based on this post/reblog to cure writer’s block. Lol I wrote this in like a day and a half and in an airport so take that for what you will. I just really like men sweating and grunting I’m sorry. Feedback is a writer’s life blood, so please tell me what sucks about this so I can improve!!
Austin had always gone to the gym with you. You’d go together, but usually stayed in your own lanes doing your own workouts, and then leave together.  The routine allowed some space to breathe and work individually—do things separately together. It happened organically for one reason: different desired routines. And that’s how it stayed for weeks, leaving each of you satisfied at the end of the hour and a half.
Today provided another reason for why separate workout routines proved more effective than working together. 
You’d walked in with the intention of setting a personal record on the squat rack.  You’d been working your way up for weeks.  Maybe you truly felt prepared to lift it, or perhaps it was the extra zing that the pre-workout put in your step, but either way you stepped up to the rack prepared to put your legs to the test.  The cute dark blue crop and legging combo probably gave you an extra boost, too. It did make your ass look good, after all, and that little “I’m sexy and I know it” boost worked like magic for motivation. 
Unfortunately, you didn’t see the way Austin’s eyes lingered a little too long when you put your jacket and bag into the locker. Maybe if you’d seen his eyes darken, you’d have caught onto his little game instead of being taken by surprise. 
Still, before you parted ways at the locker, you couldn’t help but admire the curves of his bare shoulders beneath his muscle tee. Such fond memories of those shoulders and the weights they occasionally carried: your niece when you went to the park weeks ago, the heavy cement bag for your parents’ backyard, your thighs—
You shook the thought from your head, and moved to the track to warm up. You’d moved closer to the weight section to do some warm up Bulgarian Split Squats when Austin called you over to his spot at one of the benches. 
“Babe,” he called out, “can I get a spot real quick?” The question fazed you a moment; he rarely asked for a spot, but you supposed that the empty gym deprived him of many other options. 
“Yeah,” you chirped as you rose from the mat. “Yeah, sure.” 
Austin positioned himself on the bench and prepped for his heavy set. You couldn't help but admire the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin, the determination etched on his face as he focused on the task at hand. The veins in his hands and forearms seemed to pulse as he gripped the bar, and a small part of you wished they were wrapped around your neck—
"Ready, babe?" His voice snapped you out of your reverie, and you quickly positioned herself at the end of the bench, ready to spot him. You cleared your throat. 
"Ready," you replied as you braced yourself for the weight that was about to come crashing down. He grinned but didn’t say anything. 
As Austin began his set, your eyes were drawn to the flex of his muscles, the strain evident in every movement. You couldn't tear your gaze away, mesmerized by the raw power and intensity he exuded with each repetition.
With each huff and grunt that escaped Austin’s lips, you felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks. You tried to focus on the task at hand, on keeping him safe as he pushed himself to his limits, but you couldn't shake the feeling of arousal that pulsed through your veins.
As Austin finished his set and racked the bar, he flashed you a grin, his chest heaving with exertion. He rose from the bench breathing heavy, sweat dotting his brow. 
“Thank you, baby,” he murmured with a breath, voice low and husky as he gently pinched your chin between his thumb and knuckle. 
Your heart fluttered at the sight of him, mind filled with images of his sweaty body entwined in passion with yours. You swallowed hard, trying to push aside the thoughts that threatened to consume your mind you helped Austin re-rack the weights.
"Anytime," you replied, voice barely convincing nonchalance as you tried to quell the desire that burned within your chest—a desire slowly spreading throughout your extremities and to your lower belly. "Anytime." 
Walking back to your mat, your mind swirled with overwhelming amounts of filthy thoughts, and the reps got increasingly hard to count (which ended up being fine because working to failure is good for growth, but still). Those damn grunts? Every huff and breath of exertion? The small whimper that escaped his lips when he struggled momentarily to get the bar up on the last rep? All played on a continuous, horny loop in your head as you spent the next few minutes finishing the exercises before your squats. 
His damn blue muscle tee, his damn cap that couldn’t cover his pretty curls at the back of his head, his damn gray joggers, his damn water dripping down his chin as he chugged from his water bottle after a couple of sets on the lat pulldown machine that made his damn muscles flex and sweat collect on his damn collarbones. Damn him damn him damn him.  
A trip the the gym had supposed to clear your mind, not fill it with insufferable horny thoughts. How were you supposed to focus on the movements properly when he walked around looking like that?
And now you needed him to spot you during your squats. Lovely.
His gaze wandered to you in the mirror as he took another gulp of water. You waved him over.
He adjusted his earbuds and wiped his chin with the collar of his shirt as he approached you. “Hey, gorgeous. Need a spot?” Was his voice always so deep? I must be ovulating because this is not normal.  
“If you’re not busy? I wanna beat my record from a couple weeks ago,” you answered. 
“New PR, baby!” he whooped, clapping his hands together once to try to hype you up.  He likely mistook your distraction for nerves. Hell, you wished it was, not an aching need that pulled your attention away from your workout.
A nervous laugh left your chest, suddenly rather timid at the prospect of him being so close while you were trying to lift something seriously heavy.  You turned to face the mirror behind the rack—turn away from him directly but still see him behind you in the reflection.  Had you seriously never appreciated how he dwarfed you before?
Okay, enough, focus on the damn lift you horny simpleton, the sane part of your mind berated.  You pushed the thoughts aside and stepped under the bar.
“Ready?”  you tossed over your shoulder to him as he stood a few feet back.  
“You got this,” he affirmed.  You took a breath and lifted the bar off the rack and stepped back.  Austin put a close but reasonable distance between the two of you and looped his arms under yours, prepared to pull you back if you were to fall forward.  
Another breath, and then you went down.  Austin followed your movements and you let out a puff of air as you tried to push yourself back to the top.  
“C’mon, you got it,” he gently coaxed from behind you.  It wasn’t the typical motivating voice he used in the gym.  No, it was much softer, teetering on the edge of something—well, you weren’t sure you wanted to find out or you’d surely drop the bar and hurt both you and him.  If you hadn’t been balancing over 200lbs on your shoulders, you might have shot him a wide eyed look.  You came to the top of the position.  “Alright, that’s one.  Just seven more.”  His voice seemed to have some extra smoke in it today.  
A flush of warmth spread through your torso, tingling in your extremities that had no connection to the exertion of the second rep. His words lit a fire, spurring you on as you sank into the third. 
“Doin’ so good,” Austin murmured, his hot breath fanning down your neck. “Just like that.” 
Fuck off fuck off fuck off you hot bastard. He was doing it on purpose. Whether it was to get a rise out of you or provide some extra motivation, you didn’t know.
Down.  Up. Four. Focus. Five.
“You’re killing it. Just focus on that form.” You could have sworn his hand brushed the side of your waist. 
Six. A breath. Seven. The burn in your quads nearly made you question whether you could do another rep. You hissed out a sharp breath and braced yourself, legs wavering at the top of the rep for only a second. 
“Nearly there,” Austin continued, the same salacious insinuation lining his words. “Can ya gimme one more, baby?” 
A thrill shot down your spine, and your breath caught in your throat.  Damn him.
You finished the set, legs trembling slightly as you stepped back to re-rack the bar with a huff. You set your hands on your hips to suck in a well deserved breath. A stupid smile graced your lips as you realized that you’d accomplished your goal despite Austin’s distracting encouragement.  The burn in your legs slowly turned to a sweet jelly-like sensation. 
Austin approached the rack, going around to meet you toward the front, a smirk lining his perfect lips. “Feeling good?”
You nearly rolled your eyes at his double-entendre. “Yeah,” you snorted, as you stepped around to meet him. “Feelin’ grea—“ You stumbled, the jelly in your legs making your knees fold momentarily. 
Right into his strong arms. 
“Woah, now,” he chuckled, pulling you back up with his hands firmly on your back and ribs. “Careful there, Bambi.” That time, you did roll your eyes with a laugh as you steadied yourself once more, but not pulling away from him yet. “Don't hurt yourself.” 
“Oh please,” you flicked the brim of his hat, “I’m canceling my membership; you are too damn distracting.” You giggled as you pushed him away to walk to the equipment spray, throwing a little extra sway in your hips as you strutted away. The jig was up; no sense in trying to focus on something when it would all be for naught. You wanted to play this out. 
“Is that right?” He cocked an eyebrow, that permanent smirk etched onto his face. “So you didn’t like my extra motivation, hm?” He gripped the brim of his cap and flipped it around, giving you a more than adequate view of his triceps and biceps as he pressed it down in the back. You sucked in a breath. He knew how much you liked it when he put his hat on backwards.
“I blame the endorphins. I’m taking my business elsewhere so I can actually focus,” you quipped. You stepped to the rack, deliberately putting it between you and him as you sprayed down the bar.
“Hm. That’s fair, I guess.” He moved in closer, placing his hands on either side of the rack and leaning over the bar, his voice low and suggestive, “Guess we’ll just have to find other ways to work out together then.”
You cocked an eyebrow, allowing yourself a moment to shamelessly look him up and down as the tip of your tongue wet your bottom lip before you pulled it between your teeth. Your delicate fingers curled around the bar as you rested your chin on it. The smell of his sweat mixed with his cologne and nearly made your knees weak again. You tapped your right toe behind your left heel, enjoying his proximity and the innuendo in the air.
You hummed as the tension crackled between the two of you. “Whatayasay we cut this strength session short and go home for some cardio?”
His eyebrows raised and he chewed the inside of his cheek, glancing dangerously down to your lips. A low hum resonated in his chest. “I like the sound of that.” 
He shortened the distance between you, tantalizing movements to tempt you closer to his lips. And then, “Meet ya by the treadmills, baby,” he teased with a wink and then pulled away. 
And that’s how you figured out that if you worked out with Austin, you’d end up horny and skip the workout for another sweaty activity.
tag: @mrsniallhoran505
91 notes · View notes
heartsforvin · 1 day
Text
UNTOUCHABLE
Tumblr media
bfb is probably one of my favorite tropes 😣 stream bfb by victoria justice 💋
Tumblr media
pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader
warnings: smut, praise, use of pet names, dirty talk, cussing, oral (f receiving), slight choking kink, dom!vinnie, age gap (r’s 19, v’s 22), loss of virginity, slight breeding kink, perv!vinnie, if i missed anything lmk !!
summary: you’re untouchable to vinnie, considering you’re his brothers best friend, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore
a/n: guys i loveee writing perv!vinnie can you tell yet ?? (i can’t help it, i love the idea 🤭)
Tumblr media
he needed you. needed you in every and any way he could get you. he felt wrong, though. almost gross, like he shouldn’t be feeling this way towards you.
you are his brothers best friend, he’s known you for years, that’s one of the reasons why he feels a bit disgusted by himself.
just a bit, though.
you’ve been around since his brother entered the sixth grade, so you have basically grown up with this family. having spent many summers, along with just nights in general with the family.
he’s seen you through puberty, and he can’t lie, once you started filling out and growing more, he couldn’t help but spare a few glances once in awhile.
you’ve always thought nothing of it, always thought that was just the big brother instinct in him — to watch over not only reggie while the two of you hung out, but you as well.
you didn’t realize until around sophomore year of high school though, that it was more of just tiny glances and hand touches.
you thought vinnie was attractive, sure. especially when he got a little older. when the tattoos became a regular addition to his body along with the abs.
you’d never let him know that outright though. part of you always thought he was full of himself.
when you noticed he started gaining fame, you thought he was taking it all to his head.
he’d post those thirst traps, and though you did find them hot when you were sixteen, seventeen, you just thought he was full of it now.
vinnie has always been a bit more touchy with you. always finding an excuse to rub up against you or touch your hand.
you’d always just push him off, telling him to back off before reggie saw and got the wrong impression.
that’s the last thing you needed. for your best friend to know you were into his brother.
◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡
“need some help, princess?” you heard his voice and immediately rolled your eyes as you planted your heals back on the ground.
it was a hot summer day, and all you wanted to do was hang out with reggie by the pool.
he had asked you to go grab more plastic cups from the house, to which you agreed.
now here you were, standing on your tip toes as you tried to reach the top shelf.
you felt vinnie’s front press against your back, his breath on your ear as he reached his arm to the shelf with ease.
“thanks.” you reply meekly, already over him for the day.
he flashed you a smile before heading back to the stairs, probably back up to his room to play video games.
you made it back outside quickly, not wanting to take too long for reggie to notice you went missing for minutes on end.
the two of you sat on the edge of the pool with your feet in the water as you drank soda in the cups you had just brought out.
you were talking about college and what classes the two of you were taking when you heard the back door open.
turning around, you saw vinnie walk out in only his swim trunks, tattoos on full display.
rolling your eyes, you turned back to your best friend as the two of you continued talking.
about ten minutes later, reggie had mentioned he needed to use the bathroom and that he’ll be out in a minute.
you nodded and set your cup down next to you, watching as vinnie replaced reggie’s spot as soon as the back door shut.
“that a new suit?” he questioned, making you look down to see which one you were wearing.
it was a light pink string bikini. you saw it at target weeks prior and remembered you needed a new suit for the summer.
vinnie’s eyes raked over your body as you sat next to him. he gave a longer glance at your tits, seeing how nice they fit in your top.
his gaze moved down to your thighs, looking at the plush skin and imagining what it’d be like to get in between them.
he wondered a lot of things about you. he had overheard a conversation you had with reggie once, talking about how experienced the two of you were.
it was nothing odd or uncomfortable for you to talk about with the younger sibling, if anything it was normal.
the two of you knew everything about each other, nothing was too off limits or tmi.
so when vinnie heard you had never had sex with anyone, he smiled to himself, hoping he could be the first person to pleasure you.
“what do you want?” your sharp tone broke him out of his thoughts. “reg’s gonna be back in a minute, can’t have him getting the wrong idea.”
if anything he’d probably expect nothing of it, just his best friend and his brother having a normal conversation.
you were terrified of him having the wrong impression on the two of you though. he’s asked you before if you’ve ever had even the slightest crush on his brother, to which you just laughed.
if he had asked you about three years ago, maybe the answer would be yes, but now? hell no.
the touch on your thigh almost made you spit out your drink. “you don’t want that,” vinnie breathed. “i could personally care less of what my brother thinks im doing with anyone.”
you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, placing it in his lap. as soon as you did, you heard the back door open again.
“you guys hungry?” you heard reggie call out, to which you moved quicker than ever.
◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡
later on that night, you and reggie got ready to chill and watch a movie. you had decided to spend the night last minute, it was a friday night after all so neither of you had classes in the morning.
as you were walking back to reggie’s room from the bathroom, you could’ve sworn you heard what sounded like moaning that came from the eldest boys’ room.
you stopped in front of his door, wondering if you should bust in and interrupt to make fun of him, or to stay here a minute.
you never really imagined vinnie in that way. not often at least. the thought did cross your mind here and there, but you pushed it back.
you didn’t like him. didn’t like how he gawked at you — looked at you like prey. how he was always touching you in some way.
at the same time though, you kind of did like it. no guy had ever really paid any mind to you, and vinnie does.
maybe it was just the male validation you so desperately craved, or maybe you actually did like vinnie.
as you stood there, you could’ve sworn you heard your name fall out of his mouth, which made your eyes go wide.
you contemplated on what you wanted to do. you could easily go back to reggie’s room and apologize for taking too long. or you could fulfill both yours and vinnie’s fantasies.
with a shaky exhale, you slowly pushed the door open and the sight before you made you instantly wet.
there he was, naked from the chest down, his boxers resting on his ankles, as he jerked himself off with your swimsuit top.
it was disgusting, filthy even, but for some reason you found it so hot in this moment.
you don’t even remember where you had put your suit after the swim earlier. either way, vinnie found it and decided to put it to use.
you just stood there, unable to move as you watched his fist move rapidly with your swimsuit top in hand, watching, listening to the noises he made.
“s-shit princess, yeah just like that.” you heard him say, making you clench around nothing.
when his eyes opened that’s when you gasped, covering your mouth in case it was too loud.
vinnie didn’t even hesitate to try and put on his boxers or even cover himself with a blanket.
“what are you doing in here, sweetheart?” his tone was low, gaze fixated on you and your sleep shirt.
you wore shorts underneath but they were short, so it went unnoticed. when vinnie saw your bare legs, he smiled.
you didn’t answer him, feeling embarrassed for even being in here at all. you felt dirty.
“come here,” vinnie said as he threw your cum-stained swimsuit top on the ground. “come sit on my lap, baby.”
you smiled, a rush of energy and confidence running through you now. you always wondered deep down what it’d be like to be on his lap, in his arms.
he had draped a blanket over his half-hard dick. no doubt it’ll be back to its hard state in a matter of seconds.
you straddled the man’s lap, your hands around his neck while his rested on your ass. your shirt rose up so your shorts were now visible.
“kinda hoped you were only wearin’ panties under this,” he chuckled as he smacked your ass. “would love to see those cute ones, y’know with the strawberries on ‘em?”
you blush, having packed those exact ones for tomorrow morning when you went back to your house to get a change of clothes.
his grip on you tightens, he’s got you where he’s wanted you for months now.
“or,” he starts, moving closer to your ear, kissing right under it softly. “that black thong you have. god, is that hot.”
you can’t believe this is happening. reggie would kill you if he found out vinnie laid a finger on you in this sort of situation.
“vinnie,” you whine as he moves you against his lap, your cunt grinding against his cock. “please.”
he smirks. “please what?” he asks as he leans in, mouths almost touching.
you squirm on him, making vinnie grip you a bit harder to keep you in place. “need you, want you.”
vinnie smiles before he places his lips on yours. the kiss turns hungry fast, hands roaming each others bodies as your tongues meet together.
“switch with me,” he says before lifting you off his lap. you stand on the ground as he does the same. “lay on the bed.”
you do as told, laying on the bed fully clothed while he stays how he is. once your head meets his pillow, vinnie climbs back on the bed and hovers over you.
he kisses your neck, making sure to leave marks even if you protest. he makes his way down to your collarbone and is soon tugging at the collar of your shirt.
your eyes widen as he takes the shirt off of you without even asking. he smirks as he looks up at you. “no bra, huh?” he asks.
you blush, even though you shouldn’t be embarrassed for being comfortable, there’s a part of you that is.
vinnie see’s your eyes shift and brings his hand up to your cheek, caressing it softly. you smile and lean into his touch.
without any warning he’s got his mouth planting kisses all down your chest and to your stomach. you grab his hair and tug at the feeling of his lips on your skin.
when he makes it to your shorts, he looks up at you and asks if he can take them off along with your panties.
you nod but then give him the verbal confirmation, he wastes no time pulling them off you.
“look at you,” his tone is deep, making chills run down your body. “already so wet f’me.” he says, slowly dragging a finger through your folds.
you whimper at the contact, grabbing his hair and tugging as his finger swipes against you.
you watch as he lowers himself on the bed, laying flat against his chest, his face now mere inches from where you need him.
all your nerves are gone, as if you aren’t scared for what’s about to come and how to handle everything.
vinnie smiles up at you before he dives in, sucking on your clit as you tug at the locks of his hair.
“taste so good, pretty,” he moans into you, making you whine in pleasure. “such a good girl for me.”
the praise goes straight to your head as you feel vinnie grip your thighs, holding you in place.
as his tongue continues to suck on your clit, he slides his index finger along your folds before pushing it into you.
a loud moan rips from your throat but vinnie’s quick to clamp a hand over your mouth, shushing you.
“don’t want reggie to get the wrong impression now, do we?” he asks, referring to what you told him earlier.
you shake your head, his hand still covering your mouth. he smiles as he removes the tattooed hand away from you, lifting his head to kiss you softly.
his mouth is on your sensitive pussy once again, with his index finger curling inside you, making you close your legs around him.
vinnie groans as he pushes your legs open again, he continues his actions before he feels the grip on his hair tighten.
“v-vinnie,” you moan softly, feeling a knot in your lower belly tighten. “baby.”
his gaze reaches you, he knows what’s coming and his movements quickened. you tighten your legs around his head, gripping the sheets as you moan profanities.
you try your best to stay as quiet as you can, but it’s no use once you feel yourself release on the man’s face below you.
vinnie smiles as he catches every ounce, lifting up and leaning on his elbows as he looks up at you.
“thanks for the warning, princess.” vinnie chuckles as he pushes himself up to hover over you.
you blush with a slight smile, suddenly feeling nervous now that the real thing might happen.
vinnie gives you a sweet smile, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. “what’s wrong?”
the question is genuine, throwing you off since he’s usually not like that with you.
“i’m a virgin,” you say quietly, lowering your head. vinnie lifts your chin with his index finger, kissing you softly.
“i can’t promise you i’ll be gentle, you know how bad ive been wanting this.” he tells you truthfully.
you nod, knowing already that if this were to happen he’d definitely not be the slightest bit of gentle with you.
he gives you a look to ask if you’re ready, you nod but also let out a quiet but audible ‘yes’ to let him know.
he kisses you roughly before pulling back and positioning himself to enter you.
once he does, you gasp at the feeling of having him inside you. he waits a minute for you to adjust before he starts moving.
he grips your hips, thrusting hard into you as he watches your tits bounce with each thrust.
he smiles. he’s been wanting this for so long now, cant believe he’s finally got you where he wanted you.
“fuck vin, you’re so big.” you moan, watching as vinnie gives you a smirk.
he moves his hand to grab yours, bringing it down to your lower tummy. “you feel that, pretty girl? that’s all me, fillin’ you up so good, yeah?”
you whimper at the feeling of having his cock inside you. you grab his hand and squeeze tightly.
“feel good, huh? like havin’ my cock inside you, baby? feeling me everywhere?” he asks, knowing the answer already.
you nod with a soft moan followed by it, trying your best to not be so loud no matter how good it feels.
the pain subsided and turned to pleasure, making you feel like you were on cloud nine.
as vinnie’s thrusts became quicker, you watched as his hand slid from your hip to your throat in a matter of seconds, applying pressure.
he saw you smile and applied a bit more pressure. “you like that, don’t you?” he asks.
you try to nod the best you can, vinnie leans in to kiss you and you immediately meet him, kissing back with just as much need as he is you.
he watches you pull apart from his lips and start to move your hand down to your clit.
“nuh, uh,” he smacks your hand away. “i’m not done with you yet.”
before you can speak, he’s flipping you over so you’re on top now. you’ve never been in this position so he helps you guide yourself on him.
“yeah, just like that, good girl.” he praises when he feels you clench around him. “fuck you feel amazing.”
you soon catch on and give yourself a rhythm, bouncing on him with ease while vinnie grabs your tits and squeezes them in his palms.
“been wanting to get my hands on these for so long, y’know that, sweet girl?” he tells you as he lowers his mouth to your chest.
he takes your right breast into his mouth and sucks, definitely leaving marks. he gives the left one the same attention after.
“vinnie.” you moan, throwing your head back at the feeling of his mouth on your chest.
he watches you ride him, completely obsessed of the sight in front of him. as much as your swimsuit top was doing wonders for him, actually being inside you is definitely better.
vinnie squeezes your tits once more before gripping your hips again. “god you feel so good sweetheart,” he groans. “wanna fill you up, put a baby in you.”
he doesn’t even register what he says, just spewing words, feeling way too good in the moment.
you however do register what he said. “want it vin,” you whine out.
he smirks, gliding his thumbs against the plush of your thighs. “yeah, you want me to knock you up? have my babies? bet you someone would be very mad if they found out.”
you know who he’s talking about but right now you don’t care. the euphoria completely washes over all the fear from you.
his thrusts become faster and harsher, making you hold onto his shoulders for support. your head dips to rest in the crook of his neck while his hands move to cup your ass.
he bounces you on him, moans erupting from both of you as your highs near.
vinnie’s hand moves from your ass to your clit, rubbing harsh circles. “gonna cum, sweet girl. you’re gonna cum with me, ‘kay?”
you nod, a loud moan slipping from your lips at the pressure of his harsh rubs.
“almost baby, come on,” he urges, you continue your movements, scratching his back as you do. “fuck, sweetheart i’m there.”
before you can confirm that you are too, you’re already spilling out of him as he spills into you. he pushes himself into more, smirking as he does.
“gotta make sure it says in there if you want it to work, right?” he asks, to which you just sleepily nod.
the two of you stay connected for a minute before vinnie decides to pull out of you. you whine at the loss of contact to which he kisses your forehead.
you fall onto his bed with a loud sigh, smiling at the man next to you while he wraps his arms around you.
“do you think he heard?” you ask quietly.
vinnie stays silent for a moment, before saying, “you’re probably gonna have to have a long talk with him. me and you.” he explains.
you sigh, not wanting to deal or even think about the talk you’re gonna have to have with your best friend in the morning.
he sees your frustration and holds you tighter, kissing your cheek. you smile.
you want to ask the question but it’s probably dumb and he’ll probably just laugh, thinking you’re just some naïve kid.
you decide to stay silent, basking in this moment of being in his arms right now.
“goodnight, vinnie.” you say quietly as you nuzzle into his chest.
he smiles, hugging you tighter. “goodnight, princess.” he responds, kissing your head.
you hoped this wouldn’t be the last time you got to feel his touch.
HEYYYYY I LOVED THIS 🤗🤗 sorry if it’s so damn long, i had so much fun writing it !!!
i hope you all liked it as much as I did, pls lmk cus i LOVE yalls feedback (unless you don’t like it, keep that shit to yourself LMAO)
tags: @cosmicanakin , @anqeliclust , @forevergirlposts , @bernelflo , @slvthrs , @visualbutterflysworld , @leqonsluv3r , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @violet0182 , @hallecarey1 , @kayleighh , @laylasbunbunny , @louloulemons-blog , @st4rswrld , @kriissy4gov
73 notes · View notes
mystellenia · 15 hours
Text
ellie with a clumsy gf ୨ৎ
Tumblr media
summary: how ellie cares for her clumsy girlfriend
content: nothing thats nsfw!! just ellie being a cutie concerned gf
notes: answer to this req!! SHES SO PUPU BABYGIRL IN THAT PIC I WANNA BITE HER JFWIBFJWKRJR. she's actually so beautiful i can't. entirely unrelated: idk how i feel about this... but i’m trying not to be like EW I HATE THIS FUCK THIS ITS SO BAD. like i dont even feel like that but we already know how i feel about this formatting. its growing on me tho
(wc 0.39k) so short i know guys i gotta dip my feet
Tumblr media
constantly laughing but also concerned at how you manage to trip and bump and bruise yourself up on literal air
in apocalypse au, she's always been very aware of her surroundings bc of patrol and combat and stuff so she tries to keep you out of the way of things that she knows you'll bump into
always has an ice pack chilled and ready to go in the freezer in case you bump yourself real hard and it's sore because ice helps bumps not bruise right when you get them (looking at you guys clumsy ladies write that one down)
always warns you about things right as they're happening since you get into things SO FAST
like just as you're bumping into something or dropping an item she's blurting out, "wait! there's- a shirt on the floor"/"remember- that the washing machine door is open"/"baby, you're gonna drop that- just... like you did just now. you okay?"
always asks what you did to get a new bruise. she'll notice a new one and joke, "oh, what did you do this time?" and you'll respond, "i may have walked into the dishwasher while the door was down... but this one doesn't hurt that bad 😁" it's become like a little game
she's become sooo desensitized to any bump or bang sound in the house bc she knows its just you. not to say she doesn't care about you getting hurt--she immediately throws out a "you good?!" or "you need me?"--she just knows you know what to do: ice pack or heat compress. it's routine now.
read that low vitamin c levels make you bruise easily, so always has vitamin c rich snacks stocked up. oranges and strawberries and other fruits, always ready!
she's so stupid in love that she'll cut the fruits up into hearts or try nd make the most simple little animals with them from some mother of 3's tutorial on instagram reels and genuinely gets upset when she can't recreate them.
^ like you notice her absolutely maiming some apples and ask, "ummm why are you slicing and dicing that poor apple?" and she'll mumble, "it's supposed to be a stupid crab."
and for my ladies with darker skin where bruises aren't as visible or even just pale skin that just doesn't bruise easily, she's still just as concerned. and since there is no visible warning of a sore spot, she's hurriedly apologizing after pressing on a sore spot or laying on a tender patch.
Tumblr media
@abbysbug @picklesarenice69
hello to my clitter critters. soooooooo erm sorry about going like basically inactive for like 2 weeks i got into the fight of a lifetime with my mother 😊 we still beefing 😊 dw tho when she's old and wrinkly i’ll have power of attorney and trust the cord WILL be plugged.
like i’m joking but as of now that bitch is an opp fr
but anywhoooo i’m back. and my dinosaur of a laptop had a health scare and i thought i was gonna have to plan a funeral for her but she went to the doctor (apple store) and she's all better. idk how it still works so well now bc my mom got this when obama was still president 😆 don't y'all worry tho this motherboard does nothing but purr we chillin (the fan turns on whenever there are too many graphics moving)
118 notes · View notes
xxchumanixx · 3 days
Note
Hii, some Tim Bradford X sunshine!reader who is his rookie??
Little Miss Sunshine
Tumblr media
Tim Bradford x reader
Warnings: pure fluff, honestly so much fluff, reader is a little sunshine. Word count: 801 Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I hope you'll like it, I for my part really do! Enjoy!
Tumblr media
It all had started when Grey played the matchmaking game, assigning each of the new rookies to a TO. You were paired with Tim Bradford, a man that was as equally handsome as distant at first.
He looked like someone you wouldn't want to mess with, sure kicking your ass out on the street first chance he'd get.
So, when you were sitting in the shop together, after he explained everything he deemed necessary, he was truly surprised by your calm, yet radiating nature.
You would do what he'd tell you with a smile on your face, responding so calmly yet confident, that he at first thought you were messing with him. You made it hard for him to be grumpy and moody, his Tim-tests falling short.
He'd soon call you little miss sunshine, the name fitting - in his opinion - like a glove to you. You were kind, friendly and open to him and others, not like many others of his rookies had been in the past.
You were constantly trying to make him smile, making jokes and funny comments, all the while still focusing on your work.
It was something he valued, being surprised at the way you were always a hundred percent on board, no matter if you'd only moments ago made a joke or just simply admired the sun shining down at you, in a city that had only about 40 days of rainy weather.
After about half a year he was sure he'd never have a rookie like you again - not because he didn't want to, but because you were so truly special, that he was sure he'd never find someone like you again, even if he'd try.
Your smile reached depths of his heart he would have never dared to mutter out loud, bathing in your glow in secret whenever you'd grace him with one of your smiles.
You were slowly melting him, like a snowman in the sun. He was the snowman and you were undoubtedly the sun, melting his icy ways until he was puddy in your hands.
You were slowly turning him inside out, something everyone but him seemed to notice at some point.
"Hey, Tim." you spoke up, silently giggling to yourself already. His head tipped your way, motioning for you to continue, whilst he continued driving. "Why was Cinderella so bad at soccer?"
He sighed to himself, the tug of his lips barely hidden as he fought against a smile. "Why?"
"Because she kept running from the ball!"
He inhaled deeply and stilled for a moment, shaking his head, as he let go of the air slowly in a way to stop himself from giving into you. Afterwards he snorted though, chuckling to himself.
"That was a bad one." he chided you playfully, and you rolled your eyes with a grin stretching your lips. "You laughed, so it wasn't that bad, Bradford."
Now he rolled his eyes, snorting again. "You're insufferable." he told you, though he knew he was far from the truth. If he could he would have listened to you telling bad jokes all day, just to listen to you at all.
"Shut up." you retorted, lightly shoving him. "You love me and you know it."
He had to refrain himself from inhaling shakily, opting to clear his throat instead. You were right, and it pained him.
It pained him in a way that made it very clear for him that you were his rookie, thus off limits to him. You still had a few months of training left, which meant he'd have to stay behind the fine line of decency until then.
He'd ask you out on a date, if you'd want that, afterwards.
Until then, he'd have to admire you from the distance.
And you had to, too.
It hadn't taken long to fall for the handsome an broody man. He accommodated his training to your needs, always keeping an eye out for you.
He laughed at you silly jokes, even if they weren't funny at all.
You couldn't wait for your training to be over, finally being able to make a move on your feelings for him, that had you floating towards the sun.
"Another one:" you proposed, sitting more upright. "What do you call an angry carrot?" You patiently waited for an answer of his, not missing the way he sent you a look of confusion through his peripheral, causing you to chuckle.
"A steamed veggie!"
You were laughing, and that was all it took for him to laugh along with you. He was knee deep in trouble, but he would gladly drown in it, if it meant he'd be able to spend time with you, see your smile and hear your laugh.
'Cause after all, you were his little miss sunshine.
Tumblr media
@laheysfilm @newobsessionweekly
@augustvandyne @RookieTrek
@dhunhdchrih @nachofriess
117 notes · View notes
simonsapelsin · 23 hours
Text
Fics That I Won't Write For Wille's Month But You Can If You Want To
Feel free to use any of these ideas, which vary in quality. 🤭 Maybe there's a good one? Who knows!
Sandwich
Wilhelm declares it to be the Month of Sandwiches: he makes a different kind of sandwich for Simon every day for a month and Simon rates them.
Summer
Wilhelm has an amazing summer with Simon but it's coming to an end. He says, “I wish this summer would never end,” and then when he wakes up the next day, it's the same day again, and again, etc, groundhog day style
Literature
Wilhelm studies literature in university and ends up teaching it back at Hillerska.
Revolution
The monarchy is abolished. Twenty years later, Wilhelm is interviewed about it.
Cooking/Baking
Wilhelm goes to culinary school with Felice and becomes a pastry chef in her restaurant.
Video games
AU where Wilhelm is a virtual reality video game character that Simon falls in love with (or the other way around)
Erik
Wilhelm finds Erik's letter to his future self.
Wedding/Engagement
5 times Wilhelm and Simon are guests at weddings and one time they have their own kind of wedding.
Riding
5 times Simon watches Wilhelm ride a horse and one time Wilhelm rides Simon.
Secret
Wilhelm nervously tells Simon about a secret fantasy he has. Simon is very much into it.
Future
Future Wilmon AU. Year 2222. Wilmon in space.
Social media
Maddie sends Wilhelm a link to a tumblr blog about the Swedish royal family. He has many thoughts and feelings about it.
Lake
Late in the summer, Wilhelm and Simon return to Hillerska to go swimming again in the lake.
Mental health
Adult Wilhelm starts a foundation to support youth mental health initiatives.
Fashion/style
Missing moment: the origins of The Pink Sweater and The Studded Jacket
Friends
Felice is going through a very tough time and good friend Wilhelm is there to support her.
Joy
Wilhelm is a new father realizing all the ways his son's childhood will be very different from his own.
Soulmates
Simon asks Wilhelm, “Do you believe in soulmates?”
Frogs
Wilmon have a baby and Wilhelm can't help but buy every tiny frog-themed item of clothing he can find. Frog onesies, frog booties, frog hats, etc.
Movie
Adult Wilhelm learns that someone wants to make a movie about his life.
Family
The first conversation Wilhelm has with his parents after driving away.
Party
Felice, Simon, and Sara organize a belated birthday party for Wilhelm at the karaoke place.
Freedom
Wilhelm and Simon go on a late night summer bike ride around Bjärstad.
Vacation/holiday
Wilhelm tries to learn Spanish in preparation for a trip to Venezuela with the Erikssons.
Hands
Simon watches Wilhelm do things with his hands.
Date
Wilhelm plans the perfect date but everything goes wrong.
Dream
AU where Wilhelm's dreams keep coming true.
Birthday
Missing moment: What happens to the gifts that Wilhelm flung about on his birthday?
Music
It's the 90s and Wilmon have been forced apart and now go to different schools, but they have a secret long distance relationship via letters and mix tapes.
Fantasy/fairytale
Simon has been turned into a frog by the evil wizard August and Wilhelm goes on a long and dangerous quest to lift the curse. He talks to Simon the whole time and Simon ribbits back.
54 notes · View notes
drdemonprince · 22 hours
Note
Any chance you'd expand on the hank hill trans guy post? (Sorry, best indicator I could come up with.) The concept interests me as I decidedly know my maleness, yet don't feel impeded by for the most part, any male gendered norms/boxes. I am fairly masculine, though I rarely use those kinds terms to describe myself. I have found I often do stray outside of what society pushed for me when I transitioned, yet I again do not feel it has taken from my right to maleness whatsoever. I am just me, who happens to be male. I have had friends try and suggest I am NB adjacent but I do not feel this way whatsoever. I feel more people are outliers to gender expectation than we care to admit and it's disappointing the way cis-people deny that. Hope this wasn't too long winded, I value your writing and perspective, and wanted to hear more of your thoughts on this.
Yeah, well so many things all get conflated by gender labels, and it's all so personal, you know? Masculinity does not have to mean maleness, and a person's gender identity might be a reflection of some innate quality they experience themselves as having, or a general summary of their tendencies, or their desired presentation, or their sense of affinity with other people, or an interpersonal tool, or something they just go along with because it was given to them by society, or any other number of things.
I think my recent substack piece on detransition goes into this pretty well, and I have an upcoming piece of what @pastimperfection calls "bilateral dysphoria" that comes out next week that delves into it too.
I think I mostly saw taking on a male identity as a means to an end more than any kind of innate reflection of who I was, though I did feel an affinity with effeminate men for a lot of reasons. I think I also discounted how much I have in common with my fellow nonbinary people of all stripes, because that identity became so strongly associated with being an annoying type of queer person that everybody else just wrote off as ultimately being their assigned gender at birth anyway no matter how much they protested. it doesn't help that 'nonbinary' is a catchall term for literally thousands if not millions of very distinct experiences and desires.
transitioning gave me control over how i was perceived, finally, but hormones are a throttle that only go in one very specific direction, and you don't really have all that much control over which changes kick in at which times and what people will make of you once you do start registering to them as some identity other than what you were first saddled with. it's an incredible gift to be able to toggle that throttle. but it's limited, not because medical transition isn't incredible and needed for so many, but because there is no escaping the goddamned binary cissexist logic that influences everything about how people treat you, how you navigate institutions, who finds you desirable and what they want out of you, and so much else.
if you're able to cast a lot of the external societal bullshit aside and feel strong in your maleness, maybe you're stronger than me or maybe our orientation to these things is just different, i don't know. i was never all that sensitive to feedback that i was doing the whole being-a-woman-thing all that wrong. i reveled in violating those rules to an extent. succeeding at being a woman despite my best attempts was what felt super dysphoric. and now i guess im succeeding at being a man, insofar as im always read as one, and it feels just as uncomfortable and objectifying and false. i thought that with manhood i could probably just grit my teeth and deal with it, but i'm finding that i can't.
ive always been very open that for me, gender is a thing I Do, and i guess to those who know me well it wouldnt be surprising to hear that i have gotten tired of Doing Being a Man and dont feel like playing that particular gendered game anymore. I tend to get bored of things! and find the flaws in things. and find my comfort in being fault-finding and contrarian and not being a joiner. and thats okay. i learned a lot along the way. not having to try any more is a huge relief. i can just do whatever. and know actively that people will more often than not be wrong in what they make of me.
maybe it was natural feeling for you to decidely 'know' your maleness without a care for masculine standards because that is the right identity for you! and maybe i only feel secure in the "not knowing" realm and in letting go of what people think of me or finding any kind of tidy categorization for it because that's the right spot for me. for now. until i find a new interesting way to be unhappy and striving for more and different again. :) that's just part of being alive, for me.
50 notes · View notes
QUARTER-FINALS MATCH 3
Tumblr media
Claude propaganda:
"To say Claude has trust issues is an understatement—you have to spend half the game earning his. (Claude isn't even his real name!) Once you have it, though, he's absolutely ride or die for you until the stars go out. He is so full of heart and ambition: He wants both sides of his heritage to get along, he wants to open borders and eliminate xenophobia and promote equality between commonfolk, and deep down, I think he craves a partner to stand with him at that new dawn, or an equal who sees his vision for the future and will fight for it just as hard. Nobody believed in him when he was a kid, but if you put your faith in him, he'll return it tenfold. Some people don't like that he's calculating, or has to leave the player character at the end of the game to go back to his homeland, but both are necessary elements for his goals to change things. He will always come back, and everyone who bets against him and his love for his companions is wrong with a big fat W. #KhalidForMostDatablePrez"
"Claude is a fun little onion of facades. He calls himself the embodiment of distrust, he acts like he's carefree and without worries, an unscrupulous schemer--and so many in universe buy into that hook line and sinker. He's used to others viewing him with suspicion and uses it as armor to obscure his not-so-dark truth: that he cares immensely, that he values minimizing the loss of life, and that above all he has so much hope that people will fundamentally choose to do better given the choice.
His front guards a center that his conflict filled world would be happy to tear apart. As the child of people from two nations in constant conflict--one of which is explicitly isolationist and dehumanizes those outside its church's reach--he hasn't really had a place where he can be without his facade. As a child he thought he could run, but when confronted with the fact that this hatred existed no matter where he ran, he chose to instead try to create a more just and kind world.
His inability to let others in beyond his facade at first may lead to a sense of distance, but isn't it then all the more satisfying when you're allowed in? All he wants is a little trust, a little faith, and--like what he wants to give everyone--a chance to be better.
And like that you got a charming young lad with a fun personality that your grandma would be thrilled to have stay forever."
Milo propaganda:
“they were in the last contest sure but i feel like they could get farther. like they're literally a nonbinary grim reaper that's also an influencer and sure sometimes the influencer stuff can get kinda overwhelming i feel like it's very clear that they care about you and want to be around you. you guys go on a reaping date. their eyes and nail colour change based on their mood too and i think it's a really cute detail!! also SLIGHT SPOILERS but they even reference rocky horror in their special ending. they are perfect to me and i love them and i believe they deserve a second chance <3”
"Vote for Milo because they deserve it
They're literally so attractive
- They are a social media influencer
- They are obsessed with an adorable little kitty and will do everything in their power to make this cat the most beloved creature in existence
- They love makeovers and helping their friends rebrand (this includes working with Damien and the PC to help Jerry the Murderer rebrand so that they really has a brand identity)
- They are a grim reaper and even help the PC plan the PC's own funeral (special ending) and they give a great speech and it's super sweet
- They will sometimes take the PC on reaping jobs with them and shenanigans ensues
So in summation, vote for Milo because, as I repeat, they deserve it"
46 notes · View notes
Text
Alrightyy saw Challengers for numero uno tonight and these are some thoughts/things that really got me the second time round!
*Thess are just my opinions the film can be read however anyone else wants
Okay so hear me out.. Tashi is such a dom, Art is such a sub and Patrick is such a switch and oooh it got me how at the beginning it felt like he was Arts dom, then he finds this girl he thinks is fantastic and maybe he thinks she could be the glue to bring him and Art and her all together BUT then it totally fricken backfires and instead he loses both. Art the little puppy he is starts wagging his tail in Zendayas direction and next thing ya know he's got a new owner and Patricks a thing of the past much to his palable distress. I mean christ boyos living in his car and starving, boys a mess since his lost his dom and sub poor boyo, so now various things I noticed some of which I feel back up my argument haha
Gosh theres so many little moments, Patricks thing for Art seems so obvious yet Art seems totally clueless.
1) Patrick is defos bi, not just because he just so is but also cause he matches with a guy on his dating app during his swiping.
2) The doubles match they play in the past? Gosh they're all over eachother! And Pats clearly in charge of that relationship and Art seems totally cool with that (for then anyways..)
3) When him and Art are watching Tashis game at the vert beginning Patrick grabs Arts leg in exhilaration. I mean he always seems to be touching or in the space of his boy for christs sake.
4) When Tashi mentions the fact Arts going to Stamford Patrick noticeably makes a face, you could say its because shes paying attention to Art instead of him or that hes upset because shes going to college instead of going profesh BUT I really didnt read it that way. To me it looked like he was upset Art was going to college, they've been together for years after all and now their splitting up, poor boyo.
5) When Zendaya asks if theres anything going on between then, Art laughs and says no BUT Patrick??? Science and he looks down, hell he wishes there was summat.
6) He taught Art to jerk off. Fucking hell.
7) There kiss man, all three of then and then just Art and Pat, just soo much chemistry.
8) When he reveals he slwpt with Zendaya to Art, and Arts smile drops. I think he's heartbroke at him sleeping with the girl he likes but I also see it as pain at being left out. These two people he's entwined with and now he's outside looking in. I also think If Patrick had seen that reaction he'd have seen a looot sooner that his relationship with Tashi might backfire greatly.
9) Patrick vsiting Stamford, first person he goes to see, his girlfriend maybe..? NOPE hes too busy chasing Art around the tennis court 😭
10) There's a ton of hot moments in this film. And the hottest? To me? That bloody stool grab with his foot. He wants Art close, he always bloody does! And the churros christ! And once again showing Art who's top so to speak, eating his churro, and telling him hes proud of his snakey behaviour. And that it makes his relationship with Zendaya hotter (I bloody bet it does) He never ever seems to show jealousy about Arts feelings for Zendaya, he points out thay he doesn't see him as competition to her not long after and I BET his doesn't. Cause I think he'd love it if Art was with him and Zendaya.
11) My God this bit gets be cause it gets echoed later. Him and Zendaya are making out and this girl who he's with and cares about is just talking bout his tennis game. And tbf what does he say?? "Weren't you gonna tell me bout Art" hells bells could you be more obvious?? And then the fight, he asks her if she's talking about tennis and her reply "I'm always talking about tennis" and I mention this cause it's gonna be relevant later.
12) The injury happens and everyone loses something. Zendaya has lost her career and ability to play tennis to her full potential. Art loses his best friend and Poor pathetic Patrick lost his bestfriend(and secret love) and his actual girlfriend all in one day!
From here on I cant guarantee my numbered points are in timeline order as the timline stated getting more out of sequence🤣
13) Zendaya and Art in the diner and after hearing Art and Pat dont talk no more saying she's a homewrecker after all. And what does Art say?? Zip. Nada. No denial just silence.
14) Okay lets talk that sauna scene. It was gloriously tragic. Patrick is clearly unaware why Art is THAT hostile towards him. I mean thinking of it from his point of view he'd have more reason to be angry considering the snakey girlfriend behaviour. But he never is angry at Art, not once no matter what he did. Of course we then discover Art is SO pissed cause he knows about Atlanta. Christ I bet pur stupid idiot boy Patrick thinks hes just being cleverly smug with that "when we were teenagers" line but idiot boyo your rubbing salt in the wounds 😭
15) still about the sauna, the naked trying to be top dog like old times but no no no, not anymore. Arts not his to be in charge of anymore. And the camera shows Art as higher while Patrick slouches nearby. Patrick asks him when he's so mad but doesn't get an answer. This scene was tragic to me, Patrick just seems hurt by Arts attitude. Art points out that they're no longer peers and I love this because thats the difference between the Zendaya/boys relationship and Arts and Pats. Pat may have been the dom so to speak with Art but he still saw them as peers. Zendaya doesn't. Thats the main difference in their relationships. Respect.
16) One of my fave damn parts of dialogue in the movie. (I really can't remember exact phrasing but this is how I rememeber it) Art is so sus of Pat, Pat asks him if he misses it, Art says he doesnt. And when Pat says he wasn't talking about tennis, Art says "Your always talking to me about tennis" and oof the punch to my gut that was. And it seemed to Patricks too! His face, this poor boy has twice been talking to the people he cares about, abou their relationship and they just say their talking about tennis, he cant catch a break😭
17) Pats reaction to Zendaya asking him to throw the game, is he offended for himself? Nopeee he's mad that she'd do that to Art. He says something along the lines of fucking him was one thing but to have Arts victory be a lie?? Gross, too far, too much of a betrayal.
18) For the third time, having just fucked Zendaya in the car and she just immediately brings up him throwing the match, like crimeny man this boy is probs sick of this game getting in the way of his relationships haha
19) Ooh that match point is glorious glorious cinema my friends. Patrick is so interesting in this whole match. Him deliberating on if he's gonna tell Art? So juicy and the way he did was fucking hilarious. That unspoken signal? Beauty.
20) Arts reaction? Wow oh wowww. The lad went through the five fricken stages of grief! The denial "fuck off!" the rage, throwing his racket, the bargaining, looking at Zendaya as if to say its not true (when she has no fucking clue what just happened). The depression, those sad sweaty tears 🥲 and then? That gorgeous smile, that acceptance. I think he felt catharsis, his marraige was clearly dysfunctional at this point and maybe knowing she cheated, knowing she'd threatened to leave if he lost, maybe that helped him let go of it. Ripped off the bandage, turned off life support, finally shake the pedestal he'd put his wife on( he compared her to jesus for christs sake). He made it through to the otherside and Patrick was there waiting for him with open arms ()iterally lol)
21) When Pat sees Arts smile? His own blossoms, clearly in relief and exaltation. I truly think he told him not to throw his game but to spur Art on. To finally unlock his potential. And to get the old Art he knew back and it bloody worked. That final back and forth, the pure energy, those sexual grunts all building up to a crescendo of a climax. Hooo boy
22) That goddamn brilliant leap in the air. Art is freed and flying, and Patrick doesn't hesitate he flings his racket to the floor because the thing that mattered to him most was never tennis. And he catches his boy with arms wide and then that embrace. They have finally come back together. It was beautiful. What does losing the match matter to Pat when he finally has his arms all over Art again just like he did in the beginning. We have come full circle.
Hahaha this is purely my own read into the movie and obvs mostly about the Patrick character and how I saw his actions. Now a few little bonus notes I noticed.
Nearly everything the boys eat/drink seems phallic, hotdogs, bananas, churros, even those drink bottles and cigarettes. Boyos are obsessed!
Zendaya on the rock at the beach was very little mermaid. Also in that scene when she said she wouldn't wanna get between em. Art said they didn't love together but Pat says "It's an open relationship" hecks you too obvious boy.
This movies so chock full of foreshadowing too, the story about Cat who got injured a week later. Patrick at Tashis party saying she'd have deals and a foundation which she does but via her relationship with Art instead just really cool script tbh
(Will probs add more when I remember em/see it for third time cause I am planning on that🤣🤣)
32 notes · View notes
dariwrites03 · 24 hours
Text
Fucked up Monday. 2/3
Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/daribertduck/748615753776955392/fucked-up-monday
A/n: Before you guys kill me; I’m already writing part 3. don’t you worry it’s coming your way. Please comment & repost, it’s giving me much motivation!
Summary: After Ellie kissed you on Patrol, everything was turning weird, you’re full of guilt and other feelings... What happens when your life turns from agonizing to better to so much worse? And why exactly can a few letters change everything?
Warnings: none? I think?
Taglist: @bready101 @lia-winther @liciapeonia @darkerstarsstuff @patricks-fabulous-face ( I tagged some people from my comments, hope that’s alright)
-5700k words
Tumblr media
„And I thought I was weird for feeling uncomfortable at that, you know? They broke up, it's not really his place to say anything like that especially after telling Dina he's over her anyways" You're best friend said, finishing up her explanation of yesterdays event with Dina and Jesse. He found the two of them smoking near a warehouse and from what you made out of Ellie's explanation, he wasn't too happy to see them sitting so close.
You and Ellie were having another movie night, those happen pretty often. ( Every Wednesday, to be exact.) sitting on the old sofa in your living room with you're legs resting on hers. „Well, it's still fresh. Don't think he's jealous of the two of you spending lots of time together but maybe it's just a weird feeling seeing her with someone else, though there's absolutely nothing between you and Dina" you replied, chuckling at the thought of Jesse being all jealous over nothing. You rested your head back against the many sofa pillows, enjoying the comfy half sitting half laying position you're in. „Yeah.. totally" Ellie mumbled, looking down at her hands resting on top of you ankles, shifting uncomfortably. Knowing Ellie probably better than anyone else, you knew right away that something seems off.
„Wait.." you said,  sensing the weird vibe from you're best friend. „There is nothing between you two, right?" you said, lifting you're upper body into a more sitting posture. „Ellie?" you said her name as you're so called friend didn't answer right away. You felt you're heart stink, not really being sure of what's going on exactly. „uhm.. I don't wanna talk about it?" she said, looking at you with an apologetic look, making it sound more like a question than an real steady answer. „Hell no, remember our ‚no lying rule'?" you said. „Cmon we made that rule as we were 15, that's childish." she said while caressing through her hair, suddenly looking all exhausted. „It wasn't childish when I had my first kiss and didn't want to talk about it" You mentioned. Remembering the night you ran about 2 miles to Ellie's house after spending the afternoon with some other kids in the pub, playing some stupid games. After you kissed Sophia as you're truth or dare quest you took of running, straight into the arms of the brown haired girl who couldn't participate that nights event due to a cold. Ellie knew something must've happened and as you really didn't want to talk about it, embarrassed by the fact that everyone could probably tell you never kissed anyone ever before, Ellie set up a rule. *„Let's promise to always be honest, life is too fucked up to screw it up with lies"* you knew she was right and since that night you tried to always be honest to each other.
„Cmon that's totally different!" Ellie defended herself, crossing her arms above her chest. „Jesus, Williams, answer the fucking question and stop being difficult" you said with a light voice, feeling like Ellie was some deer that takes of running as soon as you're tone was slightly off. „I mean, there is nothing between me and Dina.. so" she explained and you could tell that She was satisfied with her answer since her shoulders became less tense. „But you wish there was?" you asked, not able to look at Ellie you decided to give you're hands something to do, grabbing the soda can you had standing infront of you at the table. „I.. yeah, I guess? Okay. Who am I kidding" she said, her hands running over her face. She revealed a slight laugh. „Oh god" she groaned, now fully blushing like a 13 year old teenager. „Yeah, yeah I do like her. Fuck, this is the first time admitting it out loud" she said.
You took a sip from you're soda, the carbonic acid being long gone since you opened the can almost 2 hours ago, giving you a second or two to continue to stay silent. Having the opportunity to ignore the trouble of you're mind right now
The Jealousy building up inside of you made you think like you're going all crazy, fighting against the urge to scream inside a pillow you took that energy elsewhere. „okay, good for you" you said, taking another sip from the drink, hoping to put out the fire building up in you're chest. Ellie looked at you saying „it's not weird, right? Falling for her?" you looked at her again, considering of telling her what you really think. You consider of telling her that's it's not weird, but you don't like it either. No , you hate it. You hate it so much because you want Ellie to fall for you instead of her.
But you didn't say that. Instead you betrayed your 15 year old self by lying to Ellie and yourself. 
It's been three months, 4 days and 2,5 Hours without a word from her. 
 Ever since then , You are entangled in the delicate web of grief for what felt like for two people, where the threads of loss and longing weave intricate patterns within your heart. Two souls, distinct yet equally significant, find their place in the chambers of your being.
Dylan, now resting six feet under, has embarked on a journey beyond the veil. His earthly vessel lies cradled by the soil, while his essence pirouettes among the constellations. The wasteland of the unknown stretches before him—And then there's your best friend, a constellation of memories and shared secrets. But her presence has become elusive, slipping through your fingers like sand. She chooses silence—a withdrawal that echoes louder than any spoken words. And you tried. Oh, how you tried to get her to speak—the silent symphony of longing, the unspoken words that hung in the air like dew-kissed spider silk. Your gaze, a language of its own, whispered secrets that transcended mere sentences. But she? She met your offerings with silence—a void that echoed louder than any spoken syllable. She stopped coming over. The threshold of your space became a chasm, a bridge severed by unspoken truths. The door, once a portal to laughter and whispered confidences, now stood closed. The only ever time you got to see her, to give yourself the inner peace of her being okay, was on the weekly parol meetings. She attended, her presence a fragile thread connecting you both. But she mastered the art of departure—slipping away before your eyes could catch hers. The opposite direction became her refuge, a path untrodden by your footsteps.
Talking wasn't what Ellie needed. You sensed it, that unspoken ache in the air—the need for silence, for space. So you stepped back, honoring the boundaries she drew around her heart. But your longing couldnt be unoticed by you any longer so after three weeks, you started writing to her. Youre desperation spilled over, ink bleeding onto paper.  You became a clandestine messenger, slipping perfumed notes into the small slit of her mailbox. Each letter carried a piece of your soul—a plea, a confession, a desperate whisper.  It lingered on your fingertips, a bridge between worlds. And as you pressed those letters into the darkness, you imagined her fingers brushing against them. Would she feel the urgency? Would she hear your silent screams for her friendship?  Handwritten letters—those delicate vessels of ink and paper—weave memories that transcend mere words. Each stroke of the pen, each carefully crafted sentence, carries a piece of the you in them. The intimacy lies not only in the content but also in the act of creation itself. You decided to write her if shes unable to talk, you wanted to give her the space she needed, you tried to be as understanding as you could. But one unanswered letter turned into two, three, four. You stopped putting them into her mailbox after five. 
Now, you're trying to ignore the pain in your heart every time you wake up. Ellie's childish behavior hasn't stopped you from living your life. Instead, you channel your anger and sleepless nights into your work, making each patrol count. Working alongside Jesse has become a bright spot—a fun experience you eagerly anticipate. It's not the same as those moments outside the gates with Ellie, but it's different in a way that doesn't breed resentment.
You and Jesse share a closeness that predates his separation from Dina. The heartbreak they both faced has left its mark, and you find solace in each other's company. Jesse isn't thrilled about the situation either—the breakup and lingering jealousy still gnaw at him. On that second day of patrol together, he broaches the awkward topic between you and Ellie. "So, you gonna tell me what happened or not?" Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the abandoned checkpoint. He pulled a sandwich from his backpack, the crinkling of the wrapper echoing in the dim light. The two of you sat there, weary from the day's patrol, the weight of your assigned route still clinging to your bones. Nightfall had descended too swiftly, and the dangers of this post-apocalyptic world made it impossible to venture home safely after dark. You shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground, the rough edges of the old checkpoint digging into your back. The makeshift campsite was a stark reminder of the life you now led—constantly on the move, always vigilant. Jesse's eyes bore into yours, waiting for an answer.
"Don't really know what's there to say, to be honest," you replied, your fingers tracing the edges of the food you'd prepared hours ago. The silence now haning between the two of you wasnt uncomftable,punctuated by the distant howl of a lone infected.  "Maybe explain why we're now patrol partners? I thought you and Ellie made such a good team. Not that I'm complaining, though—we're badass too. Just wondering why you suddenly decided that Ellie wasn't good enough anymore," Jesse's voice cut through the dimly lit space of the makeshift camp. He lay down on the sleeping bag, using his right arm as a makeshift pillow, his gaze fixed on you. The flicker of confusion danced through the forest of your mind as you replayed Jesse's last words.
"What? I didn't decide that," you replied, studying your friend's posture as he took a bite of his cheese sandwich. "I asked Dina what happened earlier today." Jesse mumbled, his mouth still half full. "Ellie told her it was you who decided to change partners. Don't get me wrong—I feel honored to be your new partner in crime. I was just curious about what happened." - ''the fuck?'' You said more to yourself than him. ''Thats so fucked up..'' -"Okay, c'mon, I need the drama. Please explain to me like everything. Consider me one of your gossip girls," Jesse quipped, his unseriousness bringing a smile to your face. You took another bite of your food, savoring the dry bread as you gathered your thoughts. Trusting Jesse, you decided it wasn't a bad idea to share what had transpired between you and Ellie. So, with a deep breath, you began recounting the events of your last patrol with her. Jesse leans in, eyes wide with curiosity. His sandwich forgotten, he hangs on every word as you recount the events of that fateful patrol with Ellie. The tension, the unspoken words, the ache in your chest—it all spills out, painting a vivid picture of the fractured bond between you and the girl who once felt like your world.
"Damn," Jesse mutters, running a hand through his hair. "That's heavy stuff." His gaze lingers on your face, searching for answers. "You think she'll come around?'' You shrug, the weight of uncertainty settling on your shoulders. ''Dont think so, I think she regrets even kissing me. She has dina now, dont think that she'll need me anymore.'' Your gaze drifts down to your wrist, where the matching bracelet still clings—a fragile thread connecting you to Ellie. You wonder if she wears hers. Jesse, now leading forward, nudges your shoulder playfully. "Well, partner," he says, "we'll keep kicking ass out here. Fuck them both".
After that night, you felt like Jesse and you were attached at the hip. Somehow, you both helped each other navigate the jagged terrain of heartbreak, spending time together and letting the hours slip away. Being friends with Jesse had its perks. He acted as a bridge to Ellie, still maintaining a sort of friendship with Dina, getting slim updates from her. Through Jesse, you received updates about Ellie—whether she was safe, whether she'd eaten enough.
But it wasn't the same. Those impersonal updates couldn't replace the warmth of setting eyes on Ellie, hearing her voice—the cadence of her laughter, the way she'd say your name. You missed the little things, the mundane details that had once woven your lives together. But over the time you started to accept the turn of events, knowing you cannot force Friendship on somebody.
You started to distract yourself outside of work, whether it was with Jesse or... Sophia. After that encounter where Maria broke the news to you about Ellie changing everything, you did the only thing you knew you were really good at: You ran off.
Weirdly enough, two weeks after that pivotal moment and your  patrols with Jesse as your new partner, a knock on your door interrupted your vegetable-cutting session in the small kitchen. As you walked toward the door, a million possibilities raced through your mind. Was it Ellie, knocking on the wood on a late rainy afternoon? Or perhaps Jesse, wanting to talk? Dina? Or maybe Joel, coming all the way to the comfort of your four walls to deliver news about his beloved Ellie being hurt.
Secretly, you wished it was Ellie. So you ran a hand through your hair, glancing into the small mirror hanging near the door to check yourself out before opening the squeaky wood.  But on the other side stood Sophia, holding a plate covered in aluminum foil.  "Uhm... hey," she said, her cheeks flushed with red. "I've made some cake—way too much to eat all by myself. I wanted to share it. If, um, you want to, of course. It's chocolate cake." Her words tumbled out in a rush, and you sensed her nervousness. A Small smile spread across your face as you stepped aside, making space for her to enter the house. "That's too kind," you replied. "You've got impeccable timing. I just finished dinner—perfect time for dessert. Come inside." You didn't mention the comforting fact that her house was all the way across town, meaning she'd walked quite a distance just to bring you cake. Nor did you acknowledge that it was common knowledge that Sophia is allergic to Chocolate but it was your favorite.
One hour with Sophia turned into two, and before you knew it, the entire afternoon was filled with your laughter. She ended up staying over, making your house feel less empty. Since Dylan's passing, sleep had eluded you. Without Ellie by your side, it felt impossible to quiet your mind. Sophia changed that somewhat, but it didn't feel the same. Perhaps your own mind betrayed you, clouding your thoughts about her presence. You didn't want her to leave, yet you didn't necessarily want her to stay either. The universe seemed to decide for you, as the strawberry-blonde girl drifted off to sleep on your sofa after what felt like an eternity of talking.
You settled into your gray armchair, gently covering her thin body with your favorite blanket—the same one Ellie used to take whenever she stayed over. The entire night, you found yourself comparing Sophia to Ellie—the way she moved, the cadence of her voice, the sparkle in her eyes when she spoke about her interests. It wasn't a good thing, you must admit. Sophia is a nice girl, but you never really considered her a potential friend, especially since you both shared your first kisses with each other. After that, things got weird, and you both grew up, walking different paths.
Yet now, here she was—baking you cakes, making you laugh, and filling the void left by Ellie. The universe had a funny way of intertwining lives, even when hearts were tangled in memories and unanswered letters. Having someone else in Ellie's place is like trying to fit a puzzle piece into a space that was uniquely shaped for her. It's both comforting and disorienting—a blend of familiarity and foreignness. Her presence brings warmth, but it's a different kind—the soft glow of candlelight instead of the blazing fire that Ellie ignited.Sophia's touch is gentle, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin. But it lacks the electric charge—the pulse of longing—that Ellie's touch carried. You wonder if Sophia noticed the way you hesitated, the way your heart stumbles when she leans in too close.
The day with Sophia didnt end there, it  stretched into a comfortable rhythm, covering the next two days of your life —a dance of shared meals, laughter, and quiet moments. Her presence filled the spaces that Ellie had once occupied, and you found yourself not minding it at all. The awkwardness of those initial conversations melted away as you both peeled back layers, revealing stories and dreams that wove your lives together.
But life has a way of interrupting even the most harmonious melodies. Jesse, with his uninvited pizza and the entire Twilight saga in tow, barged into your living room. You tried to politely decline the teen romance marathon—you'd seen it one too many times—but Jesse, being Jesse, brushed off your protests. His eyes widened when he saw Sophia sitting there, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. You knew he'd milk this moment, teasing you about having a cute girl over at your house.
After Jesse left, well, pratically run out, you settled back onto the sofa next to Sophia. "That was... Jesse, right?" she asked, her fingers playing with her curly hair. You leaned against the soft material of the sofa, nodding. "Uhm, yup." Sophia's gaze lingered on you, and you sensed her curiosity. "You two do spend a lot of time together—even after patrols," she observed."Oh? You noticed that? Stalking me, huh?" you teased, making Sophia blush. Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. "Well," she replied, her voice soft, "you just always catch my eye." And then, without warning, her body shifted closer. Her hands found their place on either side of your waist, and her lips met yours—a sweetness that tasted like possibility. You hated yourself for it, truly. Because here was a girl with good intentions, almost on top of you, and your mind couldn't help but wish it was Ellie.
Another two months slip through your fingers, ephemeral as morning mist. Life, once heavy with the ache of Ellie's absence, begins to lift itself up.  Sophia becomes a constant presence—a sunbeam that warms the corners of your heart as you allow yourself. Your growing relationship with Sophia blossoms, and you find comfort in her laughter, her touch, and the shared moments that weave your lives together. The unspoken question lingers: Are you allowed to call her your girlfriend? After all, you've shared more than just cake and conversations. Perhaps labels matter less than the way she looks at you, the way her fingers intertwine with yours.
And then there's Jesse—the steadfast friend who bridges the gap between patrols and pizza nights. His teasing about Sophia doesn't go unnoticed, but he's also the one who brings laughter into your home. Everything else remains unchanged—the memories, the unanswered letters, and the quiet longing. Life moves forward, and you find solace in the delicate balance of old and new. Patrol was as good as it could be, once you and Jesse found a way to connect your abilities, it didnt really feel like work anymore. 
"Yo, little one," Jesse's voice cut through the quiet of the stables, interrupting your grooming session with Lacy. You turned to meet his gaze, immediately noticing his patrol clothes—fitting perfectly against his frame. "What the hell are you doing? We have the day off, remember?" you asked, your fingers still caressing Lacy's mane.
"Not anymore," Jesse replied, already opening the door to his horse's stable. "Dina apparently has the flu, and they both forgot to sign in at the station outside. Maria asked me to take their route for today and look for anything weird." He led his dark brown horse out of the stable, determination etched on his face.
"Good luck with that," you said, turning back to continue your work. But Jesse wasn't done. "Nuh huh, lover girl. You're joining me," he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Pardon?" You looked at him, confusion knitting your brows. "Don't hit me with Spanish,"- ''Its french'' Jesse chuckled. "well whatever it was,I don't speak it. Come on now, get ready. We don't have all day." He saddled his horse efficiently, his movements practiced. "Why should I? You said yes, not me," you replied stubbornly, even though you gathered all the essentials needed to prepare Lacy. "Well, because I'm your partner in crime? Your work husband? Love of your patrol life?" Jesse grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. "And because I'll get bored alone. You don't have anything better to do anyway." - ''Rude?! maybe i had things planned?!'' You said, jokingly offended as you grab your stuff  ''You can meet sophia  and have all of those important 'converstations'' he made weird kissing noises ''later.'' He finished his sentance, making you laugh ''Well first of all I-'' You got interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You looked into the direction of the noise and saw the last person you wanted to see today. ''Sup, Ellie.'' Jesse said, leaning against the stable door. ''what can I do for you?'' He asked, eyes stuck on ellie. But her gaze lied elsewhere; On you.
You shivered under her gaze, your heart racing. As you looked into Ellie's eyes—the first time in forever—you sensed something there, something you couldn't quite put into words. Her burning gaze finally shifted from you to Jesse, arms crossed at her chest.
"Earlier, when me and Dina were at the station, I lost my journal," Ellie said, her voice close, intimate. "Can you look for it? Kinda really need it back." Her words echoed through the stable, and suddenly, the air felt too thin. Your knees wobbled, memories of Ellie cascading down the memory bridge, crashing into your stomach. You felt like you might throw up. "Sure, we will look for it. Anything else?" Jesse asked, glancing between the two of you. Ellie's eyes traveled back to you, and silent hope bloomed in your chest. Maybe this was the moment—maybe Ellie would finally have the guts to talk to you directly, to say she's sorry. But as her gaze wavered, you felt the familiar pang of disappointment. Once again, Ellie remained silent.You felt a strong hand on your shoulder, silently offering support. Jesse's familiar scent enveloped you. "Thought so," he said, ending the conversation. Ellie nodded and turned away, leaving the two of you alone. The barn was filled with silence until you spoke with a shaky voice. "Okay, let's just go." And so you did—you and Jesse left for patrol. But with every passing second, the memory of that confrontation lingered, and you realized how much you still craved her.
"Jesus, I hate this path," Jesse grumbled, pushing open the old, creaky door to the station. His face turned red from the effort, and you couldn't help but giggle. "Stop crying like a baby. Let's sign in and leave," you said, walking toward the desk on the opposite side of the room. As you approached, you noticed that a pen was missing. Without it, you obviously couldn't sign in.
"Jesse, there's no pen," you called out, looking at your friend. "Really? Look under the table or something. We'll find one," he replied. You followed his suggestion, getting down on your knees. Spiderwebs greeted you, along with the encroaching dusk. You pulled out your flashlight, shining it underneath the table for a better look. And there it was—an old, leather-covered book. You'd recognize that book spine anywhere, even in the grandest libraries.
You picked it up, wiping away the dust that clung to its material. The thickness of the journal reminded you of what you were holding—a door to Ellie Williams' secrets and mindful thoughts. "Found one!" Jesse's voice snapped you out of your reverie. You turned around, hiding the journal behind your back. Jesse joined you, writing your names on the slim paper of the checklist. ‘Partner in crimes ( Jesse and y/n)’
"Did you find anything? The book, I mean. It's not somewhere I looked," Jesse asked. You shook your head, slipping the journal into your bag without it being noticed. "Nope, didn't find it either."
''Every poem I ever wrote was about her. That smile of hers, those golden eyes—whenever she's too close to the sun, it's impossible for me to stay away. The day I left, my heart shattered into a million pieces. In my head, inside my perfect self-made world, she never left me. All my thoughts revolve around her—the memories etched into my mind. Her touch, so soft—I never wanted to let go. The scent of her clothes, stealing my breath away. The nights we spent dreaming together, the minutes I never want to regret. I never dared to imagine a lifetime without her. Yet here I am, writing these words with a hole in my chest. I'm bleeding out, the wind kissing my mind, refreshing memories of letting go. The silence surrounds me, a reminder to hold on.
I search the past for redemption, but it eludes me. The only thing left of me are broken pieces of her.”
The words were carefully etched onto the paper, making it hard for you to breathe. You hadn't intended to overstep her privacy—why had you taken that journal in the first place? You dont know.  But here you were, sitting with the book in hand, the only light in the living room emanating from the countless candles you'd lit.
The journal looked thicker than usual, and that's what caught your attention first. You knew that book well, even though you'd never seen what she put inside—except for her drawings of animals, Joel, Dina, and you. She'd never shown anyone what she wrote between the pages.
The reason you'd decided to open the book, against all your inner morals, was the fact that as you carefully pulled it out of your bag—treating it like fragile glass—multiple letters fell out. You noticed them right away. They were yours—carefully written letters she'd never dared to answer. The envelopes ripped open showed you she defenetly read them all. You dont know how to feel about that yet. Relieved that she cared enough to read them? Happy becasue she carried your letters with her, doesnt matter where shed go? Or mad, because she never replied? You know nothing. The only thing you're able to do now is bury yourself in the book, reading what Ellie never dared to say out loud.
''Ive been having a hard time adjusting, I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting. I didn't know if you'd care if I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that. Pulled the car off the road to the lookout, Could've followed my fears all the way down. And maybe I don't quite know what to say but I'm here in your doorway. I just wanted you to know that this is me trying'' 
The words cut deeper than a knife,
before you knew it, your eyes traveled to the next phrases, crossed out, you could barely read them:
"It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you.
Seeing you with Sophie burns me from inside out.
Why are you with her?
I know I don't own you, perhaps I never will,
so the anger inside of me when I see you with her
is something I'm not allowed to feel.
What I feel, I shouldn't show you.
So when you're around, I don't.
I let you walk away with her.
I know I don't have the right to feel it,
but it doesn't mean I don't."
The rest of the book was empty, besides some skteches of eyes that look dangerously like yours. You swallowed hard, not really sure of what you should feel. You re-read the sentences out loud, letting the bittersweet aftertaste of them making you feel alive. Your heart has been Ellies since the first time you both laughed together; yet you were so sure of the fact that she would never feel the same. Considering the words in the journal, maybe it wasnt one sided after all. Youre confused, being with Sophia was easy, comftable. But with ellie, it was different. better. You miss the butterflies in your stomach, miss her touch and her closeness. The rollercoster was everything you ever had, after all.
Two days of full selfishness carried its weight, and you continued to keep the journal. The guilt crept in, stealthy as shadows, finding you at night, when the world slept and your thoughts roamed free. Those written pages from Ellie, inked with longing and crossed-out confessions, haunted your mind. You tried your best to hide the pain, a fragile masquerade. Distancing yourself from Sophia and Jesse, you walked the tightrope of deception. It wasn't deliberate; it was survival. The what-could've-been danced like a ghost, whispering secrets in your ear. You wondered if Ellie's heart echoed the same unspoken words.
Sophia, her presence a comforting harbor, yet her touch felt like borrowed warmth. And Jesse, his eyes— The guilt gnawed at you, a relentless hunger. You held Sophia too close, fearing Ellie's phantom gaze. You looked into Jesse's eyes, and the lie about keeping the Journal tasted bitter on your tongue.  Ellie, elusive as a wisp of smoke. The barn encounter—the air thick with unspoken truths—left you breathless. You havent seen her since. You called in sick for the patrol meeting, a desperate escape from the inevitable. The fear of facing her again, of unraveling the fragile equilibrium, gripped your heart.
In the quiet of your room, the journal lay open. The crossed-out phrases, the sketches of eyes—they were your silent companions.
——————————————————-
"Okay, Miss being all sad and distant, I'm not having this anymore. Tell me what's going on right now or I'm killing you," Jesse declared, pressing past you as you opened the door. His urgency hung in the air, a storm brewing behind his eyes.
"Jesus, very aggressive today, aren't we?" you quipped, trailing after your friend into the living room. The door closed behind you, sealing you both in a cocoon of tension. You sank into the couch, and Jesse settled next to you, his gaze drilling holes into your soul."Therapy session. Now. What's going on?" His hands clasped together, a makeshift gavel. The room felt smaller, suffocating. You glanced at the coffee table, considering the whiskey bottle, but thought better of it. "Nothing? Do you want to drink anything... or?" Your voice played innocent, a fragile mask. Jesse wasn't fooled. "The jury says stop trying to change the subject." His tone held a mix of exasperation and concern."The jury...?" You grinned, despite the weight in your chest. "Yeah, me." Jesse's eyes softened, and you chuckled. "It's nothing, really.“
"You're completely distant," he said, his voice calm. "Even Sophia asked me if I have any idea what's going on." The truth hung between you like a fragile thread, ready to snap.
"I don't know... it's, urgh, weird." You fidgeted with the edge of a cushion. Jesse leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Tell me!" His insistence bordered on desperation
"Okay, but promise me not to hate me?" You gave him a side-eye, afraid of meeting his gaze head-on. "Could never hate you," he replied, and the words carried weight. So you spilled it—the secret you'd harbored, the journal you'd found.
Ellie's words, inked and crossed out, danced in your memory. You didn't reveal the exact phrasing, but you shared the confusion—the way her emotions bled through the pages. Jesse listened, his eyes wide, and you wondered if he saw the echoes of your own heartache.
In that quiet room, the truth hung heavy. You'd kept Ellie's words hidden, but now they spilled forth. Jesse's hand found yours, and you clung to it, hoping for absolution. "It's Ellie," you whispered. "It's always been Ellie."  His silence spoke volumes, eyes carrying the weight of unspoken understanding. He'd always sensed your feelings for Ellie, perhaps even before you did. It wasn't a secret to anyone but her—the way your heart gravitated toward her, like a moth drawn to a flame. “You guys need to talk.” Jesse said.
"I can't," you whispered, the words fragile on your tongue. The weight of unspoken truths pressed against your chest, threatening to spill forth."And why the fuck not? What do you have to lose?" Jesse's voice held a mix of frustration and concern. He saw through your defenses, stripped away the layers you'd carefully woven. Ellie—the enigma, the ache—loomed between you like a shadow."Afraid of losing her? I think you already archived that." His bluntness cut through your heart. You knew it too well—the missed chances, the crossed-out phrases, the silence that echoed louder than words. Jesse could see the pain in you and the bluntless paired with that slight tinge of what appeared to be anger slowly disappeared into thin air, much like the smoke of a lit cigarette blown into the night sky.
"Look" he begins, sighing while he considers the phrasing of this. He means no harm, but being too gentle could erase the importance of the situation "I want to help you, but you cannot hide yourself away. If you truly want this girl, you need to be able to put in the effort. Dina and Ellie arent dating either, dina told me herself that the two of them thought there was something but ended up with nothing. Be honest with yourself, but also with everyone else" You exhale deeply, relief floods your system despite the heavy heart still pounding against your chest.
Jesse is the kind of friend you can never let go. He's just that important.
Between the soft tunes of comfortingly familiar songs and a few shed tears, the two of you scheme together... Creating a, hopefully, foolproof plan on how to finally approach the elephant in the room. Ellie and you; it wasn't over, was it?
33 notes · View notes
mikashisus · 22 hours
Text
no but just think about how much of an influence mondstadt has had on our journey thru genshin.
we started out there (probably for a reason that will be explained in future lore) and we met the god of freedom who also had a HUGE influence on our journey thus far.
and like, it makes me wonder what would’ve happened if we started out in any of the other nations. would the traveler have had the same mindset and/or morals they do now? would they have the same views on venti? or mondstadt?
i wonder what would’ve happened if the traveler didn’t go to mondstadt until much later. venti’s influence would be different, the traveler’s views on him would be different, as well as their whole mindset…
and most importantly, they’d probably be more aware of venti’s lies and deception. if mondstadt’s quest came out after sumeru, the traveler would’ve known first and foremost that venti is most likely the most powerful archon.
and they might’ve been wayyy more wary around him bc they wouldn’t have had his influence of “im the weakest so i have little to no power, therefore u shouldnt assume im dangerous”.
they might’ve believed that venti is a threat bc of his power instead.
there’s so many “what if”s. rlly makes u realize how much of an impact mondstadt has had on the game and its playerbase.
also the thought of the anemo archon being faceless and a whole mysterious entity with lore scattered EVERYWHERE until his release is extremely funny to me
like just imagine if venti’s character was entirely faceless and the only things we knew about him were him as an archon from lore crumbs scattered throughout the game and npcs in different regions. and then his eventual reveal that would bring a lot of hype
also i feel like his kit would be more cracked if he was released later in the game. but that’s just me
38 notes · View notes
enchantingseer · 2 days
Text
Intuitive Reading 🪞
Pick a Pile and Get a Chapter to Read From My
E-Book and know why you need to ;
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Image 1.
Tumblr media
Cleanse ; I wrote this chapter keeping a extract of how mundane things and details can act as a next day's mishap, prone to perfection I killed the moments that I should have cherished,
'Everyday brings so many things in one's life even if it brings none, cleansing begins with a will, with a will to evolve'
Why you should read this chapter ?
It will not overwhelm you, life..I am talking about life..here it can happen that time comes in a day where everything feels like a burden even the things you hold near and dear to you, frown happens like seasons to a fragile heart of yours, but how to stand tall and nourish oneself is what you need right now.
Signs : Perfectionist, Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn, Gardening, You love flowers, home plants are your thing, if not nature calms you unlike anything else could.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>~~~~~~~~~~~~<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Image 2
Tumblr media
Re-align; I love the idea of destruction because I am opportunist doesn't sound right? Even if it doesn't the one who lived under the shadows of death will understand the value of ceasing every moment ahead. But I was held back so things could fall in front of me.. into pieces, ashes, and smoke.
'It is your life, Nobody less can touch and align it like you could ever do for yourself'
Why to read this chapter?
Let things loosen up too much gripping leave both the ends in wounds, I see you have been putting everything into this, idea, person, feeling or even a thought enough did you.. don't you? Now let things be.. see if it goes or even wants to stays.
Signs : Air signs, emotional, mother wound, hurt feminine, you have cancer in sun or moon, or Leo in and scorpio as moon, if not you look pretty when you cry ( Like sorrow suits you ) because you have endeared enough.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>~~~~~~~~~~~~<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Image 3.
Tumblr media
Reflect, Things can get unhinged the moment your notice disappears and this was quite confusing for me, whether a flaw in me is sinful or I am looking at my mistake from the eyes of a sinner already out of it.
'It is important to know what roots from within and what from outside'
Why to read ?
It is easy to leave you in the gloom and dark, because you think from the heart and till you feel from your mind it becomes later grief, in order to avoid pain you numb in irrelevant games to wash up later it becomes harder to distinguish.
Signs : Scorpio Sun, Pisces in major three or in Jupiter, dreamy nights and gloomy days is how it goes for you, many friends but none to care.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>~~~~~~~~~~~~<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Image 4
Tumblr media
Foundation, the base Is the key.. and simple things kill people's joy is why I like to build each step I walk instead of running feet less by broken ones already walked on before.
'Base is the key to even balance..'
Why to read ?
It is not easy to stand tall, strong and firm at a go.. motivation kills the will while discipline builds it and you have everything you need and want but you are scared to begin the base with what ; maybe reading this chapter would help you in bits.
Signs : Leo, Aries.. Aquarius, Intelligent, Irritated, Hate people, but deep down cares for them, 333, August.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>~~~~~~~~~~~~<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Even if the signs fail to address you the wisdom is rightfully addressed to the collective being.🔮
25 notes · View notes