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withwritersblock · 26 days

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Colorado (For the First Time)

~Colorado (For the First Time) by Daniel Nunnelee~

Author's Note: I'm lowkey really proud of this idea ngl Summary: Y/N returns to Denver after her breakup with Nate Warnings: none? Word Count: 3,935 Nathan Mackinnon x fm!reader

She hasn’t returned to Colorado since she broke up with Nate a year ago. It was a difficult time on her part, to break up with him right before he had a six away games but it was the only time she was able to move everything from their shared apartment to her new place in Seattle.

She didn’t want to go back to her hometown in Nova Scotia since she’s been away from it for eight years now. She couldn’t stay in Colorado because everything reminded her of him.

The street they lived on for eight years together, the coffee shop she would go to every morning and before every one of his games. The hike they would take together every weekend he was home. The friends she made were also his friends.

The signs all over Denver that talked about the Avalanche and Nathan. He was having the best season of his career, which was difficult to say because it seemed as though every season he was getting better and better.

She moved to Seattle because that’s where part of her has always wanted to live. She loved the ocean and the rain. It seemed as though it was the perfect place to live. Except, she missed everything about Denver.

Nate and Y/N’s relationship was perfect. She was happy with him and he was more than happy with her. Except they had been together since they were seventeen years old.

It’s silly to say but Y/N wanted to get married and have kids before she was thirty. She was twenty-seven and Nate kept telling her he wanted to wait until after his career was done to get married. Which was understandable but Nate could have a career that would last another decade.

Selfishly, Y/N couldn’t wait another decade to get married and start a family, she wasn’t even sure she could have children by then. She spoke to Nate about her wants and desires out of the relationship but he wouldn’t listen. He thought that she would drop it and then they’d go along his plan. But eventually, Y/N got tired of waiting around and just being his girlfriend.

If he wasn’t ready to settle down and start an official life as one, she needed to step away. He couldn’t say the words and she couldn’t stay with him anymore. Within a few days her entire life in Denver was behind her.

Except her friends. She missed her friends dearly. Melissa and Gabe have been begging her to come and visit. Alongside a few of the other wives and girlfriends. She wanted to go but she felt as though it would be going behind Nate’s back. She didn’t want to do that. But here she was with her suitcase waiting on her Uber to her AirBnb she was going to be staying in for a few weeks.

It was March in Denver and it was fifty degrees. It was beautiful and not too cold. Her Uber stopped in front of her, she double checked it was her own before she climbed inside. The driver was making small talk about why she traveled to Denver.

“Are you a sports fan? You should go see the Avs play tomorrow night,” he explained as he glanced towards her at a red light. She forced a polite smile.

“Yeah, I was thinking about it, I do love the Avs,” she mumbled as she took a deep breath before glancing at her phone to see Melissa had texted her.

“Nathan Mackinnon is supposed to continue the home point streak tonight, you have to go see it. He’s insane,” the driver explained.

Hearing his name, felt like a dagger in her chest. The driver had no idea but it was unbearable to hear about him.

~~~

He was lying on his apartment couch tossing a tennis ball into the air with a random movie on his TV screen. He had an optional practice today, and he decided that he needed a day of recovery. He spent the morning getting a few treatments done at the arena and he was ordered to lay down and do nothing. Which was weirdly harder than he thought.

Gabe left the arena at the same time as Nate and decided to invite himself over to Nate’s apartment. Nate was starting to feel like himself once the season went into full swing. Except he was still empty. His entire NHL career he had Y/N by his side, this was the first season he was without her. Except, he knows that she still watches every game.

He knows she was at the game in Seattle in November. She posted something on her Instagram story about being in Climate Pledge Arena. He got three assists on the night. All he wanted to do was call her and see her before he left Seattle.

He didn’t. He couldn’t. He was selfish and waited too long. Her mind was already set on not wanting to wait, he couldn’t change it.

“I’m trying to decide if I should tell you this or not,” Gabe muttered as he liftedh is gaze from his phone. Nate caught the ball and threw it for his dog, Maggie, before he switched his gaze to Gabe.

“Well now you have to tell me,” he let out with a huff of air as he sat up, leaning his head against the top of the couch. Gabe paused for a few moments as he dropped his gaze towards his phone again before he took in a long breath.

“Y/N in town for a few weeks,” he said, meeting Nate’s gaze. His eyes widened slightly as he became still. “Melissa has missed her a lot, she’s staying at a BnB near uh-here actually,” Gabe explained further.

Nate dropped his gaze towards his lap at the ball, Maggie dropped in his lap. He took it and threw it down the hallway. “Have you seen her?” he asked, his voice breaking while he spoke.

“Yeah, she saw the kids and stayed for a few drinks,” he said as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his hands. “She’s good, I mean she loves her new job in Seattle. Her and Johanna are still close, she sees Burky all the time. She loves it there,” he explains.

“That’s good, I’m-I’m happy for her,” Nate said hesistantly, forcing a tight lip smile while switching his gaze towards the movie. Gabe smiled half-heartedly as he lets out a dry chuckle.

“That’s a load of bullshit, you wish she was miserable,”

“That’s not true, I am happy that she is happy,”

“Oh come on, Nate, you know damn well you wish she was miserable like you are,” Gabe countered while throwing his hands to the side.

“I am not miserable, look at the year I’m having,” Nate argued back as he shook his head. “If she’s happy, I’m happy,” he repeated with a forced smile before leaning back. Nate dropped his gaze towards his hand as he watched Maggie drop the ball in his lap again. Gabe clenched his jaw as he looked over Nate’s hesitant frame. “Did she ask about me?”

Gabe smirked as he chuckled, “She asked if you thought it would be weird if she went to the game tomorrow,” Gabe met Nate’s eyes and his mouth fell open and he shook his head.

“Not weird,” he mumbled as he kept eye contact with Gabe, “It wouldn’t be weird at all.”

“Okay, good because she’s coming tomorrow, hanging in the suite with us,”

“Even better,” Nate mumbled as he tossed the ball for Maggie. Gabe furrowed his eyebrows as he stared towards Nate suspiciously.

“It doesn’t bother you one bit that the girl you’re probably supposed to be engaged to right now is staying at an AirBnB two streets over,” Gabe said as he paused the movie on the screen. Nate shrugged.

“What do you want me to say, Gabe?” Nate said as he clenched his jaw, “I had a ring ready but I made her wait too long and she left. What do you want me to do?” ~~~

Every morning, she’d go to the coffee shop on the same street her old apartment was on. She wanted to avoid Nate but it was inevitable that she was going to see him after the game tonight. Which Gabe convinced her to go to.

She walked up to the counter and Jeremiah was standing behind it with a wide grin, “Oh my god, Y/N! It's been so long! How have you been?” he said excitedly as he pulled out the large plastic cup and began writing the details of her usual drink on the cup. She returned the kind smile as she handed him her card.

“I’ve been good, I live in Seattle now,” she replied as she added fifteen dollars as a tip to her drink. His eyes widened as he smiled. There was no one waiting behind them so he pried some more information out of her.

“What happened to Nate?” he asked in a hushed voice, leaning closer to her. She let out a dry chuckle.

“We broke up, but I’m back in Denver visiting a few friends and my favorite places,” she offered as she met Jeremiah’s gaze. His eyes widened as his mouth fell open.

“You’re kidding!? You guys were soulmates, I’m sure,” he let out as he was handed back her coffee order. She took a hold of it, sipping it. Seattle had some amazing coffee but nothing was like her coffee shop directly across from her apartment. She’d spend many hours in the coffee shop working on her writing.

“Even soulmates don’t end up together sometimes,” she offered him a sad smile before she took a deep breath, “Seattle has nothing on your lattes Jeremiah,” she mumbled.

“You know, he still comes in before every home game. Tips fifteen dollars like you, but never smiles. He stopped smiling just around the time you stopped coming in. I knew it had to do with you,” he explained. She pressed her lips together as she tilted her head to the side.

“He only gets a two dollar coffee,” she let out with a dry chuckle. She glanced towards her watch. It was three hours before puck drop, Nate would be stopping by to get his coffee any minute. Jeremiah glanced towards his watch before glancing towards the door. “Well, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow Jeremiah,” she mumbled as she began walking out of the coffee shop.

She shoved the door open and turned left to walk back towards the AirBnB. She glanced towards her watch before she lifted her gaze to see Nate standing dead in his tracks. She stopped walking as she met his gaze. His blue eyes were bright, even from a distance.

His nose was more crooked than before, she remembered the game he face planted against the panthers that messed up his jaw and his nose. He was wearing a navy suit, one of his many suits that pratically look identical. But if you’d ask him, he’d say they were a slightly different shade of blue.

He took a few steps towards her as he dropped his gaze towards the concrete. He admired the black leather pants she was wearing with her grey sweater with the words Avalanche written across it. Her lips curled upward once she met his gaze, it was almost a reflex. It was so natural.

He was only a foot away from her, maintaining eye contact with her as he had so many words on his tongue. Marry me? I love you. I need you. I haven’t been the same without you.

She kept staring at his nose, it was already crooked but it was much worse than before. “Your nose,” she let out, reaching her hand towards him, but she quickly dropped her hand to her side. His eyebrows raised as a smile formed to his lips. A real smile.

“Is it that bad?” he asked, scrunching his nose slightly when he asked. “Didn’t think it looked that bad,” he mumbled, raising his hand up touching it.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, concern still written all over her features. He shook his head as he scanned her features. “Can you even breathe with that, Nathan?” she asked, a small smile forming on her lips. His cheeks flushed red at the sound of his name falling from her lips. She rarely called him Nathan, or Nate for that matter, so when she did say his name it felt extra special. She also only called him that when she was being serious or flirtatious.

“I can breathe fine, my-” he cleared his throat, “I use a breathing strip sometimes, but I’m fine. No nose job needed, unless you think it’s too crooked now,” he muttered, rubbing his thumb across the bridge of his nose.

“Not too crooked, it fits you,” she mumbled as she scanned his features. He chuckled nervously as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Seeing him felt like the first breath of air after being underwater for too long.

“How’s Seattle?” he choked out. Her smile faltered slightly as she took a deep breath.

“It’s great, but I do miss home,” she said as she tilted her head to the side, meeting his light blue desperate gaze.

His breath caught in his throat as he glanced towards the coffee shop behind her. He clenched his jaw as he dropped his head. “What if you stopped by after the game? Maggie would love to see you,” he offered, meeting her gaze.

She wished she would’ve contemplated a little longer but the words, “Yeah, of course, I’ve missed her a lot,” came out of her mouth before she could come up with an excuse. In all honesty she probably didn’t have any excuse. He smiled widely.

“Okay, I’ve got to go before I’m-”

“Off schedule, I know, I’ll see you later,” she muttered as he kept eye contact with her for a few seconds before he walked past her towards the coffee shop. Her heart fluttered like it did every day for a better half of a decade. She missed the feeling in her chest when was around.

He was her soulmate and she knew that but she was so tired of waiting around. She needed to step away. But here he was, the same person she fell in love with. Was it all worth it?

~~~

She was sitting in the suite beside Gabe as he was holding his son in his lap. The first period was underway and it was a lot of back and forth. Gabe bumped into her shoulder, “Are you okay?” he asked. She nodded as she watched Nate skate towards the penalty box. She lifted her gaze towards the jumbotron to see the penalty. She rolled her eyes as she turned her gaze to look at Gabe. “You’re like extra quiet,”

“Don’t have anything to talk about,” she countered, fighting the smile forming on her lips.

“Uh-huh, you’re smiling,” he muttered.

“I’m a smiley person,” she countered as she looked back towards the ice. She watched the penalty kill work.

“You haven’t been smiley in a while,” he observed as he looked back towards the ice watching twenty-nine skate back onto the ice. He smirked, “Did a certain someone help with that?” he teased.

“I saw him earlier when I stopped at my old coffee shop,” she muttered.

Gabe started laughing excitedly, “I knew it!”

The game ended in a disappointing shootout loss and the loss of his home game point streak. She waited outside of the locker room like she had done for their entire relationship. He walked out first, wanting to avoid the media frenzy. He smiled widely as he walked towards her. Making sure to keep his hands to himself.

“I’m sorry about the point streak,” she let out as she tilted her head to the side. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Stupid technicality, nothing to worry about,” he mumbled still with a wide smile. “Come on, Maggie is dying to see you,” he said as he guided her towards his car through the parking garage.

“You got out pretty fast,” she observed as she glanced towards the locker room to see a few of the other guys leaving. He nodded as he ran his hand across his chin.

“Was avoiding the questions about the home point streak. Honestly, kinda glad it’s off my plate,” he expressed.

“I’m sure it was a lot of pressure,” she mumbled as he stopped in front of his car to open the passenger door for her. Like he used to do every time they would drive together. She smiled towards him as she climbed into his car. It smelled the same of black ice car scent he’s had since he first ever bought a car.

He jogged to the other side of the car and quickly collapsed in the driver seat. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he let out as he met her gaze, he gave her an over the top wink before he turned the car on. “Mikko totally put it in the net though,” he mumbled as he started backing out of his parking spot. She chuckled.

“Gabe thought so too,” she mumbled as she tilted her head to the side as she looked out of the window as they pulled out onto the streets of Denver.

“When do you go back to Seattle?” he asked as he tilted his head to the side to meet her gaze at the red light. She clenched her jaw as she scanned his features, the cut on his lip got worse after this game.

“In two weeks,” she mumbled barely above a whisper. He nodded as he began driving back towards his apartment.

They remained in comfortable yet awkward silence. There were so many words she wanted to say to him, and he had so many words to say to her. After twenty minutes they walked up towards her old apartment. It was like deja vu as he pushed the door open and Maggie ran towards the door. She began to squeal and jump up on Y/N.

She laughed excitedly as she leaned down and let Maggie jump all over her. She got teary eyed as guilt consumed her. “I know, Maggie girl,” she mumbled as she glanced towards Nate who was smiling widely.

After a few minutes, Maggie calmed down and wandered away from the pair. She turned her gaze towards Nate. His eyebrows furrowed harshly as he reached his hand over to her and rested it onto her cheek. It was a reflex, “Hey, hey, hey,” he mumbled as he scanned her features. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he ran his thumb across her cheek. She shook her head as she pulled away from him.

“This was a mistake, I’m sorry, Nate. I should go-” she let out as she began walking towards the door. He shook his head as he reached his hand towards her again resting his hand on her waist. She squinted her eyes hard as tears fell onto her cheek.

“Don’t leave,” he mumbled as he pulled her towards him, she didn’t pull away as she rested her hand onto his chest. “Don’t leave,” he let out again as he looked deeply into her eyes. She had a small smile on her lips as she continued reading his light blue eyes. “Don’t leave,” he let out again, barely audible, before he leaned towards her and kissed her urgently. She gripped his suit jacket tightly as she returned the kiss.

He pulled away as he took a deep breath, breathing in her vanilla perfume. “How’d I manage to not kiss those lips for a year,” he mumbled before he pressed his lips against hers again. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she pressed her body against his. She needed to be close to him, and nothing seemed to be close enough.

She tugged his suit jacket from his body as she stumbled backwards towards the hallway that leads towards their, his, bedroom. “Wait,” he mumbled as he pulled away. She leaned towards him and kissed him again. He chuckled as he pulled away again, “I need to ask you-” he trailed off as he clenched his jaw, still panting hard as he kept his hands on her waist.

He swallowed hard before he took a sharp breath, “Did I do something to make you end things? I know I waited too long, I know I fucked up with that. I shouldn’t have-I just need to know if that’s actually the reason,” he muttered as he brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face.

She scanned his features, “You didn’t do anything,” she mumbled. He clenched his jaw as he nodded. He licked his lips before he pulled away from her, “Nate,” she muttered.

“Wait there,” he mumbled as he walked towards his bedroom. He clenched his jaw as he dug through his drawer next to his bed and pulled out the ring box. He walked confidently towards where she was waiting in the living room, still teary eyed. He opened the ring box and showed the ring inside the box.

Her eyes widened as she gasped, “Nathan,” she mumbled.

“I had the ring for months, I just thought that when I asked it didn’t matter. I didn’t realize how much it actually mattered to you and-and I should’ve realized it. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he explained, waving the box dramatically in his hands. “I wanted to ask you, of course I wanted to ask you,” he let out as he took another step towards her.

She met his gaze as she took short small breaths. “Nate,”

“Still do,” he let out as he scanned her features. She fought the small smile on her lips as tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like I wanted to. I’ve spent every day since you left regretting I didn’t get the chance to ask,” he muttered.

“Ask me,” she let out, her voice breaking. His eyes widened.

“What?” he asked barely above a whisper.

“Ask me,” she let out as she nodded her head. He smiled as he kneeled down onto one knee without an ounce of hesitation.

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

“Of course, Nate, oh my god,” she muttered as he stood up from his kneeling position as she jumped into his arms and kissed him urgently. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he guided her towards their bedroom. She pulled away, resting her forehead against his, “It wasn’t just the ring, Nate,” she mumbled before she kissed him again, “I was worried you were bored with me that’s why you didn’t want to ask,” she let out as she ran her fingers through the short ends of his hair.

He shook his head slightly, “I love you, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t show it. But I’m going to do better, alright?” he reassured as he shoved open the door as he guided her towards the bed they once shared. She nodded as she hummed.

“I’ll do better too, I love you so much,” she mumbled as she pressed her lips hard against his as he slowly laid her down onto her back. He pulled away as he admired her features.

“Let me remind you how much I love you,” he whispered as he started to kiss her neck slowly.

#nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon imagines #nathan mackinnon x reader #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #hockey #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagines #cale makar imagines #cale makar x reader #cale makar #erik johnson #erik johnson x reader #erik johnson imagines

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strniohoeee · 5 months

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You Lookin?

Pairing: Nate Doe X Female Reader

Synopsis: Nate and Y/N are best friends and roommates, but she can’t help but fall in love with him☂️

Warnings⚠️: SMUTTTTT best friends to lovers kinda?? @starsturniolo requested this and I WAS EATIN THIS IDEA UPPP🤭

Song for the imagine: Attention- Doja Cat

⚠️This is an 18+ imagine, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

Look at me, look at me, I'm naked

Vulnerability earned me a lot of bacon

I put a thong all in my ass and taught you how to shake it

The best thing about being best friends with Nate is that he was my roommate sooo sleepovers every night, constant laughs, a shoulder to cry on, great conversations and a hot person to look at every second of every day

There’s no denying that Nate’s attractive, but he was my best friend. I was also friends with the triplets and being surrounded by three hot guys always made me blush.

At first I tried to push my feelings and thoughts away because I looked at Nate as a brother, and who has a crush on their brother? No sane person!

But one night he and I got a little tipsy off of some alcohol I brought home, and we started to fool around. Obviously I didn’t think it meant anything, but the next morning when he didn’t even acknowledge what happened kind of made me upset. I was friend zoned

From that point on I always flirted with him or made comments, even the triplets would make comments, and he still brushed it off and made it seem like nothing. It slowly started to make me sad….did he really not like me?

But then one night we hooked up again completely sober, and he did the same thing the next morning. He made it seem like it was just a casual thing to do. I was getting annoyed and hurt because I gave my body to him and he didn’t even like me back.

This didn’t stop me though because in those moments of us hooking up he painted a clear picture of how he truly felt. That small part I really missed, and call it self sabotage, but if fucking him was the only way I’d get that then so be it

I had gotten home from work and decided to shower and eat some leftover food Nate had brought home. I went to my room and decided to watch some tv before I realized how bored I was. I wanted Nate’s attention, no scratch that I needed it

I walked over to his room hearing him talking to people, so I figured he was playing Fortnite with Matt, Chris and Nick. I snuck in waving at him before plopping on his bed

“Hi Nate” I said waiting for him to answer

“What? Oh uh hey” he said getting distracted by the game

“We haven’t hung out in so long” I said back

Which was true I was super busy with work and so was Nate, so we haven’t hung out in a good two weeks.

“I know been busy” he said bluntly

“Same, I have the next three days off finally” I said

“Oh cool, me too” he said with no emotions

“Want to do something?” I asked him

Nate didn’t answer but continued to talk to the triplets on his head set cursing every now and then when he missed a shot.

“Nateeee” I called out in a sing song way

“Huh?” He asked not even paying attention

“Look at me” I said

He quickly glances over, but then went back to the game

“I said do you want to do something?” I asked again rolling my eyes

“CHRIS RIGHT THERE GO GO GET HIM” he yelled as he smashed the buttons harder

“You lookin?” I asked him as I waited for him to turn around, but he didn’t.

“Matt you let me get shot fuckkk” he cursed and laughed

“NATHAN” I said sternly

“What?” He said annoyed

“Are you listening to me?” I asked him

“Chris you dumbass you almost had him” he said groaning

“You can’t even put the game down for two seconds to answer me” I said getting annoyed

“Oh my god you’re being such a nagger what do you want” he said getting annoyed

“Forget it you asshole” I said

“Guys I’m going to hop off so I can watch a movie with Y/N she won’t stop nagging me” he said

He turned the game off and took his headset off

“You have my attention” he said huffing and rolling the chair around to look at me

“I don’t want it anymore you’re being a dick” I said scoffing

“You know you need my attention” he said laughing

“Fuck you no I don’t” I said rolling my eyes at him

“Yeah you do, you feed off of it, so once again I’m giving you my attention what do you want” he said

“I just wanted to hang out” I said

“Well we were. You were in here while I played like we always do. You made me hop off the game for that?” He said laughing

“Whatever” I said rolling my eyes at him and getting ready to walk out

Before I could walk out he grabbed my arm causing me to look down at him

“What do you want” I said getting annoyed

“You’re going to sit down, and we’re going to hang out like you begged for” he said with a straight face

“No I’m not” I said back

“I’m giving you my attention now come on I know what you really want” he said smiling slyly

“Fuck off” I said pulling my arm away

Nate got up and grabbed me

“Stop” he said

“Nate get off” I said getting annoyed

He grabbed me harder and looked at me before shoving his lips to mine harshly, our noses pressing together.

“Is that what you wanted” he asked me

“No” I said avoiding eye contact

He pulled me in harder, clashing our lips together in a sloppy make out. Nothing but our teeth clashing together and our tongues fighting for dominance

I pulled away and looked at him

“I’m not doing this….im not giving myself to you so you can act like it’s nothing tomorrow” I said huffing out

“Stop ruining the moment lets worry about that later” he said biting his lip

What an ass….

He kissed me sloppily again and made his way down to my neck turning my face with his hand as he left wet kisses down my neck

“Fuck” I whispered out

“I know this is what my pretty girl wants” he said looking up at me with a smirk

I licked my lips as he sunk back down leaving hickies along my neck causing me to moan out again. He pulled away, removing his shirt and pajama bottoms.

I pulled my shirt off exposing my chest to him and slid my shorts down staying in my underwear.

I ran my hands along his toned torso going over to his arms and pulling him in, our lips smashing together in another heated make out session.

Our chests pressed together causing my knees to buckle slightly. My fingers running through his hair pulling at the roots slightly as his hands ran up and down my body gripping my ass occasionally

Nate walked us back towards his bed, our kiss being separated by me falling onto the bed. Nate coming over and hovering over me as he connected our lips again and running his hand down to grope my breast

“Nate I need you badly” I whisper out breaking away from the kiss

“Okay” he nods looking at me

He kissed down my neck and peppered light hickies on my chest before going over to my breast. Firmly squeezing them before coming down and taking my left nipple into his mouth. Swirling his tongue around my nipple as he massaged the other breast

My pussy clenching around nothing and my thighs shutting at the feeling

“Feeling good?” He asked me

“Very” I moaned out

He licked from my left nipple all the way to the valley of my breast, and then to my right nipple

“Fuck Nate” I moaned out sighed at the feeling

“I get to fuck you and give you all my attention I know it’s what you want” he said pulling away

“Yes Nate…it’s what I want” I said clenching my thighs again begging for some friction

“I know baby” he said coming back down to kiss me again

He grabbed the sides of my underwear slowly sliding them down, my arousal connecting me to them in a string….how embarrassing

“So wet for me” he said looking at me

“Shut up” I croaked out

He slid my panties all the way down before kissing from my calf down to my thighs

He kissed my thighs getting closer and closer to where I actually needed him

“Nate please” I whispered

“I know” he said in a hushed tone

Slowly he attached his mouth to my pussy licking my clit and then swirling his tongue around the sensitive nerves

“OH MY GOD” I moaned out loudly grabbing his hair

Nate moaned into me at the feeling, and my thighs shut around his head

He kept lapping at me like he was a starved man, dipping his tongue from my entrance to my clit and sucking harshly

“Nate Nate oh my god” I moaned out digging my heels into his back

He removed his mouth from me and I whimpered.

“Can I fuck this pretty pussy of yours?” He asked looking down at me

“Fuck… please” I said arching my back slightly

Nate removed his underwear and slowly started to stroke his dick placing it at my entrance.

“Ready?” He asked

“Yes” I moaned out

Slowly Nate slid into me causing us both to sigh at the feeling. Soon enough he bottomed out and decided to rock his hips back and forth into me

“Fuckkkkk” he moaned out biting his bottom lip

I wrapped my legs around his waist as he thrusted into me. He leaned down and connected our lips in a heated make out session. Our tongues fighting for dominance as our teeth clashed together

He occasionally went down to my neck leaving wet sloppy kisses

“Shit Nate this feels so good” I moaned out leaning my head back exposing my neck more

Nate started leaving sloppy wet kisses down my neck again and my nails scratched at his back

His thrusts being hard and sloppy, making me clench around him.

“Baby I’m going to cum” I moan out pulling the hair at the nape of his head harshly

He winced at this and let his mouth drop slightly

“Come on baby cum for me” he said thrusting into me harder and deeper

My back arching at the delicious feeling. Nate’s thrusting getting more sloppy as he was chasing his high

“Oh my god” I moaned out

Nate snaked his hand in between us as he began to rub my clit getting me closer to my orgasm

“Shit shit shit” I moaned out my legs spreading wider

Nate rubbed faster and thrusted into me harder

“IM CUMMINGGGG” I moaned out clenching down onto Nate as my lower stomach began to contract

My thighs shaking as I moaned out his name and my brows furrowing chasing this intense orgasm. I saw nothing but white flashes of light as I came

I let my body fall limp as I tried to catch my breath, Nate pulling out of me to stroke his own dick

His breathing became deeper as he moaned out my name. His lower abdomen contracting as he came all over my lower stomach. His brows scrunching together as his mouth fell open and my name fell from his lips like a song

He slowly came down from his high and started to catch his breath.

He breathlessly got up and got a wet paper towel to wipe me down

We both got redressed and laid in his bed retracing the events that just happened

“I like you a lot, and with you being my best friend I was just so scared to fall in love because I don’t ever want to lose you” he said looking over at me

“You won’t lose me Nate” I said looking over at him

He looked at me before smiling

“Okay” he said leaning over and kissing me

We decided to snuggle up together as we watched Pretty In Pink together. Eventually falling asleep in each others arms

The End

Hope you guys enjoyed this one teehee. Nate’s so smoochie. I could give him a little kiss LMAOO. Love yall and I’m about to open my requests again🤭🖤

-J💅🏽

#Nate doe smut #Nate doe imagines #Nathan doe smut #smut #sturniolo triplet smut #Spotify

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leoluved · 11 months

Text

chase and pull (n.b)

summary: nathan likes when you get jealous, but he gets upset when he gets a taste of his own medicine. warnings: smut 18+, established relationship, fem reader, drinking, limo sex, pussy eating, old fashioned nathan, so that comes w the age gap, choking, teasing, degrading, and slightt dacryphilia.. word count: 1.9k

Nathan loved to watch you chase him.

Even more when he knew that every action he took was bound to have a reaction from you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever the fuck he read in that cosmopolitan.

Admittedly, he also thought it was a bit entertaining to watch you get jealous.

To eye you across the room as he mindlessly—and truthfully speaking, barely entertains a subjectively attractive woman speaking to him. Or an interviewer—who’s getting just a little too friendly. His eyes track you as you inch closer, trying your hardest to maintain your calm composure.

It’s all innocent, Nathan would never actually let these women think he’s flirting back. But if he throws out a hushed out chuckle, raises his glass at something they say. It’s easy to lure them to a false sense of security.

But Nathan sees the way you’re gripping your champagne glass, and it shoots a signal straight down to his dick. Fulfilling his urge to see you so clearly distraught. He knows that, later, when he has you under him. He’ll be able to apologize. For now, it’s just too cute to see you huff out and pout at him. When he watches you pout, all he can imagine is the way your lips wrap around him. Trying your hardest to take him fully.

Luckily for you, two can play that game. You finish your glass and scan around the room. Looking for the perfect suitor. Eyes landing on a handsome and tall-er man. He seems closer to your age. Maybe an intern? Doesn’t matter.

You make your way towards him, peering over your shoulder through your hair to see if Nathan is watching. You smile mischievously when you see his eyes meet yours over the rim of his whiskey glass with an eyebrow perked up.

Bingo.

Once you reach the man it’s clear he feels a bit out of place, definitely an intern. You make simple small talk, and watch as his eyes quickly glance down at the neckline of your dress you so casually adjusted lower. Respectfully enough, he returns his gaze back to your eyes. As he speaks, you place a hand on his arm and laugh a little too hard at something he says that isn’t even that funny, really.

It boosts his confidence, and you see the younger man start to really throw in some charm. It would’ve been cute, had you not been using the poor fellow just to get back at Nathan. Pulling your attention away, you move your eyes back to where Nathan was stood. Surprised when you realized he was walking towards the both of you.

You silently panic, and just stare back up and nod. The man’s voice becoming background noise. Halfway through his sentence, Nathan makes his way up, and sends the younger man a glare. It shuts him up, and makes him clear his throat before extending his hand.

“Mr. Bateman.” He meekly lets out, immediately being interrupted by the low sound of Nathan’s voice.

“Please. Don’t be so formal.” His voice is laced with venom, and his eyes flicker to yours. Before quickly motioning his head to the side, a silent warning for you to walk away. You stand your ground, before clearing your throat almost as to remind him that you’re in public.

He sucks air in through his teeth, before turning his body to you and boring a hole through you with his slightly squinted eyes.

“Move along, little girl. I’m busy talking to…” He trails off, turning his head back to the anxious, shaking intern. “What’s even your position, dude? Did I hire you?”

The intern starts, but Nathan raises a finger to stop him. He takes the final sip of his whiskey, and you watch as his lips purse and his adam apple bobs while the amber liquid goes down his throat.

Maybe it’s the effect of the alcohol he’s finally feeling, but Nathan decides that chewing this guy out wasn’t even worth his time, he shuts his eyes, momentarily. As if he’s embarrassed that he acted out of line, because of you.

Nathan sneers before he swiftly grabs your upper arm, dragging you away from the scene. He smooth and fluid with his movements. And smirks when he notices that only his ‘intern’ was watching. Thankful for everyone else being too immersed in their conversations.

He grabs another drink, a rum and coke, this time; as the both of you keep going. He sets the empty glass down on a random table after a couple of paces and presses you out the back door.

“Nathan—.” You start, but he continues dragging you until you’re both outside on the curb.

You shiver in the cold air. Wrapping your arms around yourself. You cross your arms across your chest to try and conserve some heat.

Nathan’s quick on his phone, and it takes less than four minutes before a limo is pulling up down the road. He opens the door for you, and as you hesitate to get in. He’s sending you an aggravated glare.

“Get the fuck in. Make this easier for me, would you?” His tone is short, and cold. And it makes you scramble to enter the back seat. You feel sorry for the driver, knowing you won’t hear the end of it for the way you acted tonight.

You tremble lightly at the warmth in the car, your body trying to regulate it’s temperature. Once Nathan steps in and settles himself, he’s quick to pull you onto his lap. His hands feeling so strong at your thighs.

Nathan leans up to kiss you, chasing your lips each time you pull away. False sense of security, he thinks once more, allowing you to let your guard down.

As soon as you start grinding down on his lap. His hand grips at the sides of your throat. He brings his lips to your ear to whisper cruelly at you.

“Nuh uh.. There’s no way you think I’m going let you cum tonight.. right?”

It’s a long drive to the hotel room. Either that, or Nathan mentioned a high paying wage for the poor driver to drive through the city. But the torture feels endless.

That’s how you find yourself face smushed against the black leather seats of the limo. Nathan’s thick fingers slipping deeper into your exposed heat, whining when he rips your black laced panties. Complaining that ‘they were your favorite’.

It earns you a smack on the ass. With a soft yelp you instinctively push your hips further back. Nathan’s thumb barely ghosts over your clit and you jolt at the feeling. Thighs trembling as you start to feel the beginnings of your orgasm present itself.

You sob out quietly, moving along with his hand to get the friction where you needed it most. Suddenly, Nathan pulls his fingers back, and you whimper at the loss of his fingers. He spreads you for him, watching your hole clench around nothing. He bites back a groan. Before bringing his face to you.

Nathan blows a breath of air to your exposed cunt that has you bucking away from his touch. He laughs before licking a slow stripe up your pussy.

“Taste so fucking good, bet you like it when I get mad, huh?” He asks, not giving you a chance to respond before his tongue starts its assault on your slit. You dig your face deeper into the seats, enjoying the light burn of his beard that you were starting to feel in between your thighs. Trying to muffle your moans as you feel his tongue poke at your entrance. He takes his thumb and starts to rub on your needy bud.

It doesn’t take long for you to get close again, stomach clenching and twitching as you desperately beg Nathan to let you cum. He typically loves when you beg, voice pitched up high while he gets to watch you come undone. But Nathan knew he needed to teach you a lesson. He stops abruptly. Getting himself balanced on his knees before wiping the bottom half of his face and beard.

It takes a minute, before you hear the telltale sound of a zipper and rustling of his pants being pulled down his thighs.

He wastes no time, poking his tip to your slicked cunt before shoving himself in until he’s bottomed out and your thighs are pressed together. He clasps a hand over your mouth, just in time for you to let out another sob into his palm. Tears well up in your eyes, and you can hear him chuckling to himself. Giving you no time to adjust, he’s reeling back, only allowing the tip to stay nestled inside of you before slamming himself back.

Your body gives out at the pace he sets, limply allowing him to use you as a rag doll. Nathan’s cruel with his words, trying to ensure you don’t get too much pleasure out of this. But he knows you will. Knows you melt when he’s rough with you.

“Little slut.. Wants me to act out for her. I was so close to ruining his life. The way he looked a-at you. Was gonna fire him..Fuuck..”

You could tell Nathan was getting close, he sped up his pace and his thrusts became sloppy and out of rhythm. Without notice he stills. Trying to stifle his groans. You feel his cock twitch inside you. Taking the brief second to fill your lungs with air. It burns to breathe, and Nathan removes his hand from your mouth at the sound of you breathing in.

He grips both of your arms with his hands, forcing you upright to continue pounding into you. You’re drooling at this point, gasping as he takes from you. Nathan rests his head against yours, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. The contrast of his actions making your head whirl.

“Look at the way you take me—So fucking gorgeous, sweetheart.”

You didn’t realize there was there now tears streaming down your face, smearing your mascara. You turn your eyes to glance at Nathan, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure.

He abruptly pulls out, watching hazily as he shoots spurts of cum over your dress. You try and control your breathing. Once again hearing the rustling of clothes and the sound of his zipper. He grabs a couple napkins from the limos tiny bar. Half ass-ing the way he cleans you up. He pulls your cocktail dress back down before playfully smacking your ass again. Eventually his arm comes back up to wrap around you as you settle on his chest.

You pout at him, doe eyes glossing over, he knows he didn’t finish you off. You know he did it on purpose. You also know Nathan can be easy to crack when he’s vulnerable in his afterglow. He glances down at you with an amused expression.

“C’mon, honey. Don’t look at me like that. Just wait till we get back to the hotel.” He purrs teasingly, promisingly.

As the limo finally comes to a halt, Nathan emerges. Holding out a hand for you to stabilize yourself as you exit the limo. As soon as you do, you hear the sound of the driver door opening. You lower your head to avoid eye contact with the driver. Nathan places a hand on your spine and laughs at your embarrassment.

“Don’t be so coy. He’s under an NDA.”

#YEAH #nathan bateman imagine #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman #nathan bateman x you #ex machina imagine #ex machina #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #˚ . ☆ ⋆。˚ — my writing.

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pappydaddy · 11 months

Text

idiot (j.m.)

a/n: ha, i'm baaaack! bet cha didn't think y'all were getting this fic!

tv show/movie: outer banks | pairing: jj maybank x fem!pogue!reader

requested by a lovely anon as part of my 800 follower celebration

synopsis: jj tries to impress his girlfriend, but it doesn't go as well as he planned.

warnings: reckless actions, accident, mention of a dislocation, mention of breaking a bone, fluff.

navigation | masterlist | taglist sign-up

- not my gif -

JJ has done stupid and reckless things before. It was expected of him and he liked to live up to expectations. He was the unhinged friend that stressed everyone out. Since meeting him in elementary school, Y/N didn’t know JJ not to be daring which meant that she (being the nervous and apprehensive person she was) often found herself on the verge of a heart attack whenever he pulled his little stunts. Since they started dating two years ago, his chaos and recklessness has decreased, but not by any significant bounds.

But the decrease wasn’t from JJ changing, it was from Y/N insisting that he needs to be safe and arguing with him (which actually makes him think first). Even then, it’s a fifty-fifty shot that he actually listens. For instance, there was a new skatepark installed on The Cut, a last-ditch effort to (a) make The Cut look nicer, (b) keep Pogues out of Kook territory, and (c) lower crime rates. Of course, JJ, who has never skateboarded before, was convinced it was just like surfing so, therefore, he believed he would be a pro at it. He was wrong. Horribly wrong. But, thanks to Y/N, he was wearing a helmet and managed to avoid concussing himself on the concrete after he fell off the metal railing (nearly hitting his head on that).

Now, the dirt bike track was finally up and running again following the brief closure (three years) due to the owner going to jail for embezzlement. Now, after two former motocross x-game finalists who grew up in The Cut had bought it, it was fixed up and ready to be used again. Of course, JJ was naturally drawn to it, visiting every day so far this summer. Most of the time, Y/N went with him, but she was unable to go the past three weeks because Sarah had pulled her away to the mainland for shopping.

“Babe, I am so excited for you to come to the course again,” JJ was nearly bouncing off the walls all day. He even woke up at nine in the morning (and was like this from the start). His breakfast of a mixture of half a box of fruity pebbles and half a box of lucky charms was not helping anything. “I’ve been working on so many neat moves with Nathan, he says that I have enough skill that I could enter comps and win huge cash prizes.”

She looked over at him from where she packed things into her tote bag. “Nathan would know, maybe you should enter some contests. You could probably enter some surfing contests too,” She nodded, double checking the contents of her bag. JJ spending every day at the course has led to Nathan (one of the owners) coaching him as a hobby. Completely free and completely spontaneous. “You could really make a career out of these, J.” She reminded him.

“I don’t know, Babe,” He shrugged, grabbing the sunscreen and her sunglasses that she forgot on her dresser. “Some of these guys that play these sports come from rich families who pay for only the best training. No way I can compete against that. Their parents buy them wins basically! How can I win against someone who bribes the judges? Or someone who has the best bike?” He pointed out, handing her the items as she started to walk out of their room.

“Thanks,” She smiled up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And Nathan has competed against them and won, he can teach you how. Talent is always better than money in the long run. It’s worth a try if you think you’ll be happy,” A honk sound from outside, signalling that the Twinkie was there. “I mean, you asked me out because you thought it would make you happy and look at us now. Living together.” She gestured around at the small cottage-like house they rent. Two-bedroom, one bath, and the floor plan was open concept because it was just a kitchen and living room.

“Would you be okay if I started competing,” JJ asked her, his hand reaching out to gently grab her arm when she started to walk towards the front door, another honk sounding from John B. She turned around, seeing him inches away from her, eyes staring down into hers as he waited for her answer. “It’s easy to get hurt in these sports and I don’t want you worrying all the time.”

She sighed, smiling at him, hands coming up to cup his face. “I’m always gonna worry about you JJ. What matters is if you’re happy. You sacrifice so much for me, I can sacrifice being scared out of my wits for the length of a competition.” With that, she rolled up to the balls of her feet, pressing a kiss to his lips just when another honk sounded.

____

“I can’t believe you said you would be fine with him competing,” Sarah shook her head as she watched the course. People zipped around, mud flying in every direction. Sarah and Y/N sat on the bleachers, free sodas from the cooler in hand. Y/N looked up from her book, eyes searching for JJ instantly, quickly finding him talking to Nathan off on the side. “I mean, someone wipes out every second. If John B started competing in motocross I would have a nervous breakdown.”

Y/N shrugged, eyes leaving JJ to see John B ripping around the course. “It makes him happy and he’s really excited about Nathan telling him he could do well at this,” She took a sip of her soda, the cool liquid helping cool her body temperature. “I’m not going to let my worries ruin this for him.”

“You’re braver than me, girl.” Sarah shook her head, taking a drink of her own soda just as Kie and Pope turned the corner, climbing the bleachers with take out containers in their hands from the food truck parked in the parking lot.

“We got JJ and John B’s, they are on the bottom to stay warm,” Pope told the two girls, handing them two containers. “Though, I don’t know why I try since they will devour them cold by choice,” Pope shook his head, settling down beside Sarah, picking up his untouched soda. “Are they almost ready for a break anyway? They’ve been at this for hours.” He asked, popping the tab open, the carbonation hissing as it rushed out.

Glancing over at the track, Y/N shrugged. “John B will probably be done once he finishes this lap, but JJ is probably gonna take the course once more so Nathan can time him,” She explained. “He’s aiming to break his personal best.” She was proven correct when JJ pulled his helmet over his head, securing it as he nodded along to whatever Nathan was telling him, his face hidden by the dark tinted face shield.

Just as John B finished his lap, JJ revved his engine, mud slinging around as his tire spun. Y/N perked up slightly as he drove to the startline. With a flick of Nathan’s thumb, JJ took off, zipping around the track. Y/N wiggled to the edge of her seat, setting her soda and the two containers of fries on the bench beside her. Something told her to keep watching. Maybe it was that she thought he would make a new personal best or maybe JJ had been a little too good about not making reckless decisions as of late. She wasn’t too sure, but here she was hanging off of every mound and every turn as if he were competing for a national title.

Then, it all made sense when she noticed Nathan’s hands flying through the air, looking like he was telling JJ to slow down or something as he yelled into the radio that allows him to communicate with JJ. “Is that some kind of signal?” Sarah asked, her nose wrinkling as she watched Nathan’s hand movements in confusion.

“They have radio communication, he wouldn’t need to use hand signals unless JJ was training for a race,” John B, who Y/N didn’t notice had joined them, explained. He tipped his uncapped water bottle towards Nathan. “It looks like he’s stressin’. Must think JJ’s pushing himself too hard.”

The group watched with worried expressions. From where they sat, they could hear the raised voice of Nathan but they couldn’t hear what he was saying over the roar of JJ’s motor. It was a split second. A tiny movement. But it told Y/N exactly what was going on. As JJ flew by the stands, she could see the way his head stayed tilted towards her for a second too long to not be a coincidence, followed by a sudden surge of speed. “Oh, God, JJ,” She tucked her lip between her teeth. “Please don’t. Listen to Nathan.” She pleaded quietly, hoping he could sense her wishes.

“Don’t do what? What’s he doing?” Pope asked, looking at Y/N with nervous eyes. Before Y/N could react, JJ’s bike took the turn too tight, tire hitting the soft mud at such a high speed (nearly double the speed Nathan suggested probably), slinging mud and causing him to lose control. Everyone stood as the bike started to fall, flinging JJ off it, but Y/N was already running down the bleachers while Nathan ran towards him from the ground.

“JJ,” Y/N yelled, not caring that her white sneakers were getting covered in sloppy mud. Somehow, she managed to get to JJ before Nathan, dropping to her knees, ignoring the cold, uncomfortable feeling of mud shifting under her. “JJ, does anything hurt? Oh my god.” She muttered, shaking fingers trying to undo his helmet strap to pull it off, but she could barely feel any of her limbs as panic took over.

“My shoulder,” JJ’s voice was strained and muffled as Y/N still fumbled with the helmet. Finally pulling it off his head, she could see his face screwed up in pain, his other hand clutching the shoulder he landed on (and was currently laying on). “It really hurts.” He could barely open his eyes as he flopped his head back, mud matting into his blonde hair.

“His shoulder hurts, what do we do?” Y/N looked up at Nathan who turned the bike off, handing it off to John B to put away. Crouching down on the other side of JJ, he looked down at him.

“I think he popped his shoulder out of place,” Nathan observed, looking up at Y/N as she softly stoked JJ’s hair, feeling rather useless as he groaned in pain, a few tears even slipping from his shut eyes, mixing with the mud laying under him. “Let’s sit him up first, but someone has to take him to the hospital to get it set.”

“You’re not gonna go to the hospital?” Y/N asked him, eyes nearly popping out. While all of them were now adults, Nathan was in his early thirties making him more of an adult than the 19-year-olds who currently surrounded him.

A whimper from JJ made her look down at him, seeing him trying to move. Gently, she placed her hand on his chest, rubbing it to calm him down. “I’ll be right behind you guys, I just don’t have the room to drive him to the hospital comfortably in my two-seater.” He pointed over to the car park where his black Mazda MX-5 sat, backed into the spot next to the Twinkie - a hilarious sight.

“We’ll help him to the van, Y/N/N,” John B crouched down, placing his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. Startled, she looked over at him. He could see the tears building in her eyes as she blinked at him, nodding. “He’ll be okay, it’s just a popped shoulder. Remember when he broke his collarbone in freshman year? This is like that but less severe.”

He knew she already knew that, but when you see the one you love in unbearable pain, common sense tends to take a backseat. “Okay,” She muttered, looking around - needing something to take her mind off her boyfriend laying there, not being able to open his eyes from the amount of pain he was in. “I'll open the passenger seat and get it set for him-” As she spoke, she slowly took her hands from JJ, moving to stand up but her words were cut off as a hand reached out to grab her wrist.

“No, stay,” JJ spoke through clenched teeth, his eyes fluttering open to look at her. His crystal clear blue eyes were clouded by tears and laced with pain as she looked back down at him, kneeling beside him. “I need you.” He whimpered, eyes snapping closed again.

“I won’t leave you, J.” She reassured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek softly, hoping it brought him some comfort at least.

____

After a very uncomfortable drive with John B going way over every single speed limit, Y/N and JJ sat in an ER bay, the curtain shielding them from the rest of the ER. “Do you think I just dislocated it?” JJ asked, his voice hoarse. He shifted his head on the pillow, looking at Y/N. He was laying more comfortably after the doctors prescribed some pain meds, but Y/N was still treating him like a porcelain doll.

“The tests are just to make sure they aren’t missing anything, J,” She reassured him, rubbing soothing circles on his good arm. “Whatever it is, I will take good care of you.” She smiled, throwing a wink at him knowing flirty innuendos were his favourite thing ever - especially when they came from his insanely hot girlfriend.

Just as JJ opened his mouth to retort, the curtain opened with a flourish. In came the doctor, followed by two interns all sporting crisp white coats. “Okay, Mr. Maybank,” The older looking doctor spoke up, eyes on the tablet he held, clicking away on it. “We got your scans back, and it looks like you have a very minor glenoid fracture on top of your treated dislocation. Now that your dislocation has been reduced, you should feel a little more comfortable, but that fracture is gonna give you some issues,” He explained, setting the tablet down and pulling a prescription pad from his coat pocket. “I am going to prescribe you some pain medication, Hydrocodone,” He spoke as he scribbled quickly. “Also known as Vicodin. I am not going to prescribe much as it's highly addictive, I recommend only using what you need along with icing frequently and resting it for a full two weeks,” He explained, handing JJ the prescription before pulling a pamphlet from his chest pocket. “That’s a pamphlet on opioids explaining how they work, major side-effects to watch out for, and tips to avoid getting addicted to them. I like to hand them out to help patients manage their pain safely.”

“How long does the recovery take?” Y/N asked, her hand gripping JJ’s in relief.

“Typically, recovery takes a total of 12 to 16 months. Like I said, after two weeks you can return to normal activity aside from heavy-lifting, sports, or strenuous activity. Then, after a span of 6 weeks or 3 months, you can resume normal activity if your shoulder permits. I would recommend a physical therapist to help with recovery, but for now, lots of rest and my interns will put your arm in a sling.” He gave them a tight smile, nodding as he turned and left the makeshift room.

“Hear that, J. Lots of rest and you’re gonna be fine.” Y/N smiled, letting go of JJ’s hand, standing to move out of the way of the interns as they moved around, getting his arm in a sling. She busied herself with collecting his shoes as the nurses helped her dress him earlier (so she didn’t jostle his shoulder getting his clothes on. John B had been so kind as to run to their place to get him clean clothes.

“You’re all set, Mr. Maybank, we will see you in 6 weeks to check on your recovery.” With that, they also left the makeshift room, leaving the curtain open. Y/N knew they were busy people and it was just an ER, but the speed of everything made her head spin slightly.

“I think I could get used to my hot girlfriend taking care of me for two whole weeks,” JJ commented as she kneeled down in front of him from where the interns helped him sit up, his legs over the edge of the bed. She looked up at him, shooting him a scornful look. “I think restraining myself will be a little strenuous though-”

“JJ Maybank, no funny business until you are better, until you are cleared to resume all activity, any funny business is off the table,” She informed him sternly. He narrowed his eyes at her, pouting his lip. “I mean it JJ. Maybe then you will take recovery seriously.”

“If recovery means we can’t take part in my favourite pastime, then I am going to take it as serious as hell,” He remarked. “This is going to be the fastest and best recovery the doctors have ever seen. Then, you are going to have the time of your life once I am cleared.” He smirked, watching as she stood up, shaking her head.

Her smile she had been trying to fight broke free as she sat beside him, making sure to sit to his left (his uninjured side). “I am sure you will.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to his lips. The sound of multiple approaching footsteps made them pull away to see their friends slipping into the open curtain.

“Nathan is talking to your doctor, he said he would cover the medical bill,” Pope explained, pointing over his shoulder. “Good thing it was only a minor fracture, now we just have to make sure JJ actually listens during recovery.” He remarked, shooting a playful glare at the blonde. Everyone knew JJ would be a pain in the ass during recovery, always doing things he shouldn’t be doing.

“Not gonna be an issue,” Y/N spoke confidently. “We already talked about it and JJ is gonna take it very seriously,” She looked towards him, almost daring him not to keep his word when her face suddenly changed, looking like she had a question. “Why did you take that turn too fast anyway? Nathan was telling you to slow down and the course looked extra muddy today thanks to that rainstorm we just had.”

Suddenly, JJ’s cheeks tinged red in a blush and he dropped his eyes to his lap. “I wanted to impress you.” He muttered bashfully, ashamed because she endlessly told him that he impresses her every single day.

“You’re an idiot, JJ! You severely injured yourself to impress the girl who has seen you throw up on yourself.” She rolled her eyes, slightly shaking his hair, the only thing she thought she could do to not cause him more pain.

Quickly, the bashfulness was wiped from JJ’s face as a smug smile took over his face. “Well, at least I am your idiot, right?” JJ asked, making her roll her eyes at him, a large smile fighting a way onto her face as she leaned in.

“That’s why you’re an idiot for trying to impress me, you’re mine forever - regardless of idiocy.” She pressed another kiss to his lips, smiling into the kiss like a fool in love.

Pope and John B groaned at the display of affection, but Sarah and Kie cooed, hugging each other. Pope and John B started to gag as the kiss lingered, the pair of them staring into each other’s eyes intently. “Oh, shut up guys-” Kie rolled her eyes at Pope and John B.

“Y’all know you’re the reason I believe in love, ya know?” Sarah cooed, ignoring the other three, watching JJ and Y/N as if they were her favourite ship in a show. John B shot her a look, gesturing to himself before giving up. JJ and Y/N were the reason they all believed in love.

“Well, she’s the reason I believe in love.” JJ remarked, pressing another kiss to Y/N’s lips.

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the-guilty-writer · 1 year

Text

The Big Game and Revelations

Agent Rossi-Reid

Anthology Masterlist

David Rossi x daughter!reader, Spencer Reid x reader, Criminal minds x BAU!reader

Summary: A fun night out with the team turns into a case, which turns into a disaster, which turns into Rossi-Reid’s own personal Hell.

A/N: Ah, yes… this one should be interesting and after the Super Bowl I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I did try to get this out on the night of the Super Bowl but I fell asleep trying to finish it. I think it was worth the extra week it took to write it though.

CW: Rewrite of S2E14 and E15 so it’s heavy, very minor suicidal idealation.

---

You were actually excited about the Super Bowl this year for one reason and one reason only…

The Chicago Bears were playing.

And you had a bet with Derek Morgan. The two of you had pooled a week's worth of paperwork each… and the loser had to do all of it.

Of course Derek had his love for Chicago and team spirit on his side.

But you had Peyton Manning.

And Spencer Reid.

Before placing the bet, you had pulled up all the statistics and you and your husband spent your day off deciding mathematically, who would be the most likely to win Super Bowl XLI. Ultimately, the formula that Spencer had come up with predicted the Colts would come out on top. The next day you didn't hesitate to challenge Morgan, and with his competitive spirit and hometown honor on the line, he couldn't resist the bet.

A hopeful blow to Morgan's ego wasn't the only reason you had wagered with him, though. With a whole week of paperwork off your plate, you'd be able to take the Friday after Valentine's day off so you and Spencer could take a mini vacation.

Spencer knew this was the plan the moment you'd given him the stack of papers filled with player stats. He was looking forward to it too.

The entire team, with the exception of Gideon, was at a local bar. You and Spencer were sitting at a table with a few people you'd met, Spencer impressing them with his extensive knowledge of Star Trek. Morgan was on the dance floor, Penelope was shamelessly watching him, JJ was kicking ass at darts. You saw Prentiss bringing drinks toward a table, noticing that Hotch had even brought Haley for the occasion. Quietly, you excused yourself to go say hi to them.

Besides, it was good for Spencer to be left without you sometimes. The last few cases you’d spent more time with other members of the team. Part of that had to do with the nature of the cases, but part of it also had to do with the fact that Gideon had asked you to watch over Emily. You weren’t sure if it was as Agent Gideon who trusted your evaluation of another agent's abilities, or Uncle Jason who knew that you really needed more friends; but it meant that you’d worked with her on a few consults and even been paired together on a case.

The shift in dynamics had forced a shift in Spencer. You could see that slowly, but surely, the confidence in him at work was growing, and you loved to see it. It was in the little ways he would tease Morgan back now, or that he didn’t hesitate to bother Prentiss while she was in the middle of paperwork. Even though the ordeal with Nathan Harris had been tragic, watching Spencer take a role of someone older and wiser, yet still compassionate and still himself, showed you how much he had grown since you’d first met him.

“How are they treating you at the BAU, Emily?” You heard Haley say as you approached them.

“She means, am I being nice to you?” Hotch said.

“Actually, everyone has been incredibly nice.” Emily smiled.

“I think it’d be nice if the boss covered all our drinks tonight,” you said as you walked up beside Emily.

Haley laughed and Hotch cracked a smile. “For everyone but you, (Y/N),” he said.

You faked offense, bringing a hand to your chest before turning to the Hotchner. You knew she always got a kick out of your theatrics. “Haley, do you see how he treats me?”

Haley laughed again. “You be nice to her,” she scolded Hotch playfully. He pouted and she laughed again. “I swear you two bicker like siblings.”

Hotch was about to say something when Garcia interrupted. “Look at him move.” The 'him' in question was Morgan, and the move in question was… questionable. He hadn’t even noticed the Bears had lost. “He’s like a cat.”

“More like a dog!” You and Emily said at the same time. Both of you grinned. Gideon had truly created a monster by making the two of you work together.

“He did not ask them to dance. They asked him,” Garcia defended.

“Okay,” Emily said. “Okay, he’s a cat.”

“An alley cat,” Haley commented. You nodded in agreement.

“Come on, Haley, let’s go show them how it’s done,” Hotch said as he grabbed her hand.

“I’m game if you are!” Haley looked at you as Hotch led her away. You faked a retch, making her giggle.

“That’s so sweet!” Emily sighed a bit.

“It gets a little gross after twelve years,” you told her. “Especially when I had to listen to him pin nonstop for the first two years they dated… "Oh I never thought she’d love me, why do I have to go on a case for twenty four hours away from my love, oh why, why, why’…” You tried your best to mock young Hotch in love.

“So you and Reid won’t be gross in another eight years?” Emily asked.

You watched Hotch spin Haley around on the dancefloor, both of them simply enjoying the presence of one another. The way they moved with one another had nothing to do with acts of lust (unlike Morgan who was… being Morgan), and everything to do with knowing a person inside and out. Hotch leaned in to whisper something to Haley and she threw her head back with laughter. Her laugh made him smile.

In all the years you had known Aaron Hotchner, no one could make him smile like Haley Brooks did.

“Maybe a little,” you said, just low enough that no one could hear you over the music.

“Hey,” JJ said as she approached from behind. You could already tell by the tone in her voice what was coming next.

“We have a case, don’t we?” you said.

JJ sighed. “Yes. We do.”

---

The case was odd, to say the least. With so much evidence, the team should have been able to put a profile together easily, but things just weren’t adding up. The religious obsession combined with the technology, the dominant and submissive team dynamics that weren’t constant, the obvious organization with, what seemed to you to be, a disorganized system.

You were out in the field with Morgan when you got the text that there was another crime scene. Morgan was on the phone with Garcia. “Yeah, baby girl. Tell him we’re on our way.” He whipped the car around.

When you arrived on the scene, you got straight to work, but just like before, nothing seemed to make sense. The religious ramblings were beginning to irritate you. You understood them enough, but you didn’t have extensive knowledge on different analysis on the passages over the centuries or know the actual wording in Latin like Spencer did. But Spencer wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“Hotch,” you called to him. “Where’s Spence?”

“I sent him and JJ to go interview someone who might know something,” Hotch told you. The vagueness of it all told you that it was probably nothing- that it was a stretch.

But hours later, the distress on Hotch’s face and the strain to keep his voice steady made it obvious to you that it wasn’t a stretch. “Hankle?”

“Hotch, what is it?” Morgan’s voice was filled with concern as well.

But when Hotch answered, he wasn’t looking at Morgan, he wasn’t looking at Gideon or Emily; he was looking at you. “JJ and Reid went to interview him. He’s the unsub.”

---

The drive to the unsub’s house was a chaotic collage of names and tactical plans, of kevlar and lights and sirens. But you hardly remembered any of it. Your mind was on Spencer.

There was always a chance that he and JJ were fine; that they realized he was the unsub and parked out of cell service, waiting for the rest of you to arrive. But there was also a chance that they weren’t fine.

When you arrived on scene, your brain kicked into a different gear- it wasn’t wife gear, but it also wasn’t Agent Rossi gear. It was a strange inbetween that you had never felt before- a collected calm caused by panic. You went with Morgan and Prentiss to the barn, only to find yourself on the wrong side of JJ’s sidearm.

“JJ,” Morgan called. “It’s Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss. Don’t shoot.” JJ lowered her gun and Morgan did the same, approaching her. “It’s okay. Are you hurt?”

You approached JJ alongside your other two team members. Your mind was cloudy and clear at the same time, your body shaky but still. In JJ’s frazzled state she continued to talk, ignoring Morgan’s question- the one you wanted to know the answer to- where was your husband?

When Prentiss got her to slow down, telling you that they had split up and Reid took the back, you didn’t hesitate to follow Morgan out into the cornfield. There were obvious signs that someone had been dragged and then the trail stopped. You could see it in your head like a nightmare- Spencer being drug through the vegetation and thrown into the back of a vehicle.

Somehow you ended up in the house with the rest of the team, hearing, but not truly listening to what they were saying. You stood at the window, the flashing blue and red lights highlighting the streaks in the grass. The whole world was slow and blurry, but not from tears; it was from shock. You recalled the first time you ever got shot- it wasn’t bad, but the sudden impact of the bullet and the instantaneous pain that followed made it feel as though your brain had disconnected from your body. But that sensation had ended in a few minutes… this one felt never ending. That was, until, Gideon asked the question.

“Where’s Reid?”

“Gone,” you answered before Morgan could.

Your head came back to you, the shakiness of your hands stopping, something building inside you like a dormant volcano- destined to explode, but no one would see the signs until it was too late. You looked at the team. They were lined up in a semicircle, each of them looking at you with a different adverse emotion- Morgan, resentment; Prentiss, pity; Hotch, anxiety; Gideon, disbelief; and JJ; guilt.

“Spencer’s gone.”

---

You didn’t sleep that night, but Morgan was adamant that you take breaks, drink water, and provided you with many gentle squeezes on the shoulder when he walked by. Prentiss sat down with you and together, the two of you began unpacking the journals before going through them. She was less about sympathetic looks and more about action. It was a good combination for you at the moment.

The rest of the team on the other hand was… Well, JJ avoided you at all costs. Gideon didn’t actively avoid you, but he couldn’t seem to look at you and when you spoke he always left the room. Hotch up and left- driving all the way back to DC to get Garcia and then all the way back. He could have had any other agent do it, but he did it himself. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t trust anyone at the moment, or if it was because he needed to run.

When Gideon got the call that Hotch and Garcia were on their way, all of you gathered in the room downstairs, surrounded by boxes and journals and things that would hopefully lead you to finding Doctor Reid. That’s how you had to think of him right now; not as Spencer, your husband, of Agent Reid, your colleague, but of Doctor Reid- just some smart guy with three PhDs. You knew that it was distancing yourself from the situation, but you couldn’t help it. If that’s what you had to do, you would do it.

“Welcome to our nightmare,” JJ said as Garica walked through the door.

It might just be a nightmare to you, but it’s worse than Hell for me. You swallowed your anger and told the voice at the back of your head to shut up. You had a job to do. She shouldn’t have let them split up.

Morgan and Garcia got started in the room full of computers, JJ went to take a break, and Gideon and Emily went to do some more searching upstairs. You sat down at the table and went through more of the journals. The entries weren’t long, but there were a lot of them.

Spencer would get through these in less than an hour.

“(Y/N),” the voice was strong, but more gentle than you were used to. “You should take a break.”

“I don’t need a break, Hotch,” you told him, looking up to meet his unblinking eyes for just a second.

He didn’t argue. He knew better. “I’ll be back to check in later.”

You went back to the journals.

---

Night had fallen and it felt like you were no closer to finding Doctor Reid than you had been when the sun rose. Most of the journals were religious ramblings, and Garcia was working as hard as she could on the computer system, but it still wasn’t matching up. The profile was still a mess. The whole thing was a mess.

“Rossi,” Morgan said. You didn’t respond. He plucked the journal out of your hand.

“Morgan-”

“I’m going to check the perimeter.”

“Okay?”

“Come with me,” he said.

You hesitated. “Okay, lead the way.”

You followed Morgan out of the house and into the night. He walked ahead of you, flashlight in hand. You had to admit that the fresh air was relieving, helping clear any residual fog from your brain. You scanned the sides of the house, the broken boards that needed to be repaired, the roof that needed new shingles, and the gutter full of leaves. Your eyes trailed downward, landing on something strange, something new…

“Morgan!” You called. You jogged over to the cellar doors, drawing your sidearm on the way.

Morgan ran up next to you. “Hey guys, I think we’ve got something!”

Hotch and Prentiss were quick to join you. No words needed to be spoken- Hotch would go in first, then Morgan, and you and Prentiss would stand guard outside. The two men entered the cellar, glocks drawn. You listened carefully, but you couldn’t quite make out all their words.

When Hotch and Morgan came out of the cellar, both of them looked disturbed.

“Anything?” Emily asked.

“We found Hankle’s father,” Hotch said. “He’s dead.”

---

It felt like time was moving at the speed of light and standing still all at the same time. You continued to be able to catch small bits of information- JJ and Prentiss were going to look into Hankle’s Narcotics Anonymous meetings, Hankle’s father had been dead for six months, Garcia was making progress on the computer system- making the day fly by and slow down all at the same time. Around noon, your brain failed you and you fell asleep at the table for just a few hours. By the time you’d woken up, the rest of the team had figured out that Hankle was living as three different people and he had a serious drug problem.

You sat in the room full of screens with Garcia, feeling absolutely like the most useless agent in the world. Of course all the progress had been made while you were asleep. You were hardly paying attention to what Morgan and Garcia were talking about when you heard Penlope’s signature “Oh my god,” and looked over to the screens.

For the past twenty four hours all you’d wanted was to see Spencer- but not like this. Never like this.

You gathered around the computers with the rest of the team, trying to keep your face as still as possible. You wanted so badly to be able to focus on what was going on- analyze the situation, the words, the background, in an effort to find out where Spencer was, but your mind couldn’t work. Not while watching this.

Then the feed cut- all the screens going blank- and any hope of finding evidence to rescue your husband was gone. You heard Morgan punch the door as he stormed out of the room. The sound brought you back to reality, and you followed him out of the room.

“Morgan,” you called to him, but he kept walking, all the way out onto the front porch and into the front yard. “Morgan!”

You and Morgan were both known to have hot heads when things got personal and rageful, but your emotions came out in loud and painful words; Morgan’s came out in kicking down doors and breaking down walls. You just stood and watched as he took a piece of wood that was laying in the yard and smashed it down on the ground, causing it to splinter into pieces. His back heaved with heavy breathing, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d be scared of him. But you did know better.

“Derek,” it was more gentle this time, and the other agent turned around to look at you. The fury and frustration now replaced with an expression of agony.

He walked up to you quietly, shaking his head just a bit. “How are you doing this, Rossi?”

You closed your eyes tight, and tears pricked at the corners. The pure pain in Morgan’s voice finally causing all the pent up emotion inside to come out. “I’m not,” you admitted.

Spencer had been in plenty of dangerous situations before- stuck in an ER with a known killer, on a train with a psychotic man with a gun, in a mansion with a bomb- but this was the first time he was somewhere completely alone. You trusted that Hotch and Elle and Morgan would help protect him.

But no one could protect him now.

Every feeling you had shoved inside came out at once, and you collapsed in a fit of sobs. Morgan caught you before you could hit the ground, pulling you so tight to his chest you almost couldn’t breath. You cried so hard it hurt- it hurt your head and your eyes and your chest and your heart. Morgan was whispering something to you, but you couldn’t hear him over the explosion of emotion you were experiencing.

When the dam gates closed and the tears stopped flowing, you gently pushed Morgan away and wiped your eyes. “I need to help get him home.”

“Then let’s bring him home.”

---

It felt strange that the team was inhabiting the house of a killer- eating at his table, using his bathrooms, sleeping on his couch- but sometimes to get in the mind of an unsub, you had to do strange things. One of those strange things was using his appliances, including his coffee maker. The entire team was running off caffeine, and you were no exception. Just as you turned the corner towards the kitchen, you heard voices, and paused.

“It’s funny,” JJ said. You didn’t think anything about this was funny. “I keep thinking, the one thing we need to crack this case is uh… well, Reid.”

You wanted to scream.

“Yeah,” Morgan responded quietly.

“You think Reid and I should have stayed together at the barn, don’t you?”

Everything in you wanted to walk into the room and confront JJ… tell her upfront that they should have stayed together and it was her fault that Spencer was missing. But you couldn’t move.

“JJ, go get some rest.” You could hear Morgan’s exhaustion… but you could also hear his anger.

“I can tell that’s what you’re thinking so-”

“I just wanna get Reid home safe.”

“But if I had his back like I was supposed to, he’d be here now.” The defense in JJ’s voice made your blood boil.

“JJ, what do you want from me?”

“I just… I want someone to tell me the truth!”

“The truth is one of you is here and one of you isn’t,” Morgan said, frustration coming through. “You gotta figure the rest out for yourself.” He walked toward where you were standing, just out of sight. When he saw you, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at you with sympathy before walking away.

You walked into the kitchen, avoiding looking at JJ as you made your way to the coffee pot. It was empty. You stared at the pot as it brewed, then poured it into your empty mug, not bothering to wait until it was cool before taking a sip. Maybe if you burned your tongue you could keep yourself from saying rageful words. You went to leave the kitchen when-

“(Y/N)?” JJ said.

You shut your eyes tight for a moment and turned, looking at the blonde, but not saying anything.

“What?” You shook your head slightly, keeping your face as straight as possible.

“I-” JJ swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

You looked down and took a deep breath. “Don’t apologize to me.” You looked JJ dead in the eye, holding yourself in as much control as possible. “Apologize to Spencer.”

Without another word, you turned and left; not feeling any better, but not feeling any worse.

---

You continued working with Prentiss. Hotch and Gideon were working together- an oddity. But so was a member of the team getting kidnapped. There was a sudden sound of shock coming from the room filled with computers. You and Prentiss both shot up from your seats and quickly filed into the room where the rest of the team was staring at the screens.

Spencer’s chair had fallen over, and he laid on the floor, unmoving. You’d seen enough people who were sleeping, dead, or dying to know the difference, even on a screen. And Spencer was dead.

You’d had this nightmare before, and in every single one you instantly crumbled to the ground in a fit of sobs, fighting whoever tried to touch you or calm you down. In your nightmares, the grief was so overwhelming it robbed your body of air until your head was so light that you couldn’t think- as if your body’s survival response to such overwhelming sadness was to make it so you couldn’t think long enough to be sad at all.

But now that it was real, all you could do was stand there- eyes glued to the screen, mouth slightly agape, blood draining from your face. The feeling was impossibly numb. Your mind not processing anything, refusing to believe what you were seeing. There was no survival response to overwhelming sadness; because all the will you had to survive was gone.

You remembered a quote from Dante’s Inferno- the one book Spencer had ever made you read to him since the original was in Italian- “L’inferno e freddo”: Hell is cold.

And you were frozen.

“Guys.” You heard the voice, but your brain was still in a state of limbo. Only the sudden appearance of a man on the screen, giving Spencer CPR, was enough to snap your body from the frost.

And then Spencer was alive.

Your vision blurred as your eyes watered, relief filling your body. But it was only temporary. The next thing you knew, Hankle was speaking.

“Choose one to die.”

“What?” You weren’t sure if Spencer was still in shock from dying and coming back to life, or if he was truly asking.

“Your team members,” Hankle said. “Choose one to die.”

“Kill me,” the words came out of Spencer's mouth like a plea.

Spencer, no. Your chest tightened, your breathing taught. Just say a name, Spencer. Please don’t give yourself up to him.

“You said you weren’t one of them.”

“I lied,” Spencer said. It didn’t matter thought- the math worked somehow.

“The team has seven members. Tell me who dies.”

Just say a name, Spencer… any name.

“No.”

Hankle pulled Reid’s revolver from his pocket, pointing it straight at your husband’s forehead. “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.” Hankle pulled the trigger. The chamber was empty. A tear streamed down your cheek.

“Choose.”

“I won’t do it,” Spencer’s voice was barely audible over the video feed.

Another trigger pull, another empty chamber.

“Life is a choice.”

“No.”

Choose to live, Spence.

Trigger. Empty chamber.

“Choose.”

“I…” This time Spencer was slower to answer. He was going to choose. He had to choose. If he didn’t, he was dead. “I choose Aaron Hotchner.”

The entire room seemed to become still with shock for a moment, before everyone turned to look at Hotch- you included. The expression on his face wasn’t hurt, or at least you didn’t think so. Hotch had been so avoidant of you the past 48 hours that you weren’t sure that you could read him in this situation. He continued to watch the screen, but you continued to look at his expression.

“He's a classic narcissist,” Reid explained Hotch’s sin. “He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team.”

The wheels turned in your head, and as Hotch furrowed his brow, you could see that the wheels were turning in his head as well. He left the room quickly, and you followed after him. Hotch grabbed the Bible sitting on the table, flipping through it rapidly. You didn’t ask why.

The rest of the team filtered into the room and Hotch looked up. “I’m not a narcissist,” he said. It wasn’t defensive. You’d seen Hotch defensive before, and it was nothing like this.

“Come on,” Gideon started. “Look, you can't think anything from that. He’s not in his right mind-”

“No, stop, stop,” Hotch cut Gideon off and looked around at the rest of the team. “All right, everybody right now- what's my worst quality?”

Silence.

None of you wanted to answer that question.

“Okay, I’ll start,” Hotch said. “I have no sense of humor.”

“You’re a bully,” JJ said quietly.

“I’m a bully,” Hotch agreed.

“You can be a drill sergeant sometimes,” Morgan said, avoiding eye contact.

“Right.”

“You don't trust women as much as men,” Prentiss said boldly. You wondered how long she’d been wanting to say that.

Then Hotch turned to you, meeting your gaze for the first time since Spencer had gone missing.

“You avoid difficult emotions,” you told him. “Instead of confronting them.”

“Okay, good.” Hotch kept his eyes on you for a moment before turning back to everyone else. “I’m all these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team, because I don't, ever.” That was true. It always had been. “Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and he knew that I would remember that, and he also quoted genesis, chapter 23, verse 4. Read it.”

JJ read the verse outloud. There was more discussion about narrowing down where Spencer might be. You hung onto every word, but you had just called Hotch out on something that you were doing yourself. You’d been burying yourself in work to avoid dealing with the terror and the pain that stirred inside you.

So instead of fighting to let you be in your normal point position when the team raided the cabin, you stayed at the back with JJ. Instead of avoiding her, you worked next to her in silence; both of you sharing a silent and desperate hope that Spencer was okay- that he was alive. When the team spread out, you stuck close to Prentiss, knowing you would need the support if something went awry and not being ashamed that, at the moment, you didn’t trust yourself to stay as steady as you needed to be.

And when Hotch helped Spencer to his feet, you let the tears stream down your cheeks. Holstering your gun, you let yourself go entirely- the relief crashing through your body. You breathed heavily, the cold air causing condensation to form. Morgan put a hand on your arm to keep you upright, and you let him.

You allowed the thoughts that had flooded your mind for the past two days to rise to the surface; that Morgan was probably the only other person in the world who shared what you were feeling right now- disappointment in Hotch for letting Reid and JJ go off in the middle of nowhere on their own, resentment about Gideon nearly getting Spencer killed, and rage at JJ because this never would have happened if one of you were with him instead.

“(Y/N),” Spencer’s voice as he said your name was barely a whisper, but to hear it in person made it real- it made everything real.

You pulled him into a hug, tears free flowing down your face. Spencer wrapped his arms around you tight, pulling you in so your bodies were as close as they could possibly be while standing upright. He buried his head in your shoulder. You leaned your face against the side of his head, pressing your cheek against his curls.

He let go of you slowly, as if you were the one thing keeping him tied to earth, your eyes locking only for a moment before Gideon walked over. You let Spencer lean on you, keeping his hurt foot off the ground.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Gideon said. “Come on.” Gideon went to support Spencer on the other side, helping him forward just a few steps before-

“Please.” Spencer looked at Gideon, but not at you. “Can I have a second alone?”

You looked at Spencer, but he didn’t look back at you, so instead you looked at your mentor. He gave Spencer a sympathetic look before locking eyes with you for just a second and walking away.

You let go of Spencer gently, your hands brushing before your bodies lost contact. He turned away without looking at you and began to limp towards Hankle’s body. You turned as well, looking over your shoulder as you walked. Prentiss was the one to help you this time- resting a gentle hand on your back to ground you.

You let her lead you back toward the SUVs, but you didn’t quite know where you were going; your mind was still full of Spencer. Then again, your mind was almost always full of Spencer- but not in this way. Never in this way.

“He’s going to be okay,” Emily said gently.

You let out a heavy breath. The clearing where the vehicles were parked was lit up by flashing colored lights. An ambulance had arrived, as had a coroner’s van. Officers were talking quietly, Hotch was pacing as he talked on the phone, JJ sat in the open trunk of an SUV staring out into the distance.

It was all over, but somehow you felt like things had only just began.

“How do you know?” you asked her, breathing out as you did. It sounded helpless, but that was how you felt.

Emily put a hand on your shoulder, looking into your eyes. “Because,” she said- her voice was gentle, but her words were confident. “He has you.”

---

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equallyshaw · 10 months

Text

blindsided, quinn hughes x singer au !

link to social media edit:

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 2.3K

little backstory, so unnamed singer and quinn got married when they were both 19 after being together for 3 years, right before he left for vancouver. singer is a wellknown and very popular singer/songwriter who has graced the stage of almost every award show and movie premiere possible. the two met in toronto before the hughes moved to michigan, and before she moved back home to Nashville. She then moved to Chicago to be closer to him when he went to umich. right before he was about to leave for a full year in vancouver, the two eloped and up until summer 2022 were together. after four years (seven years altogether) of bliss and pain, the singer is hitting back at quinn's letter to her through her new song.

. ────── ･

Were you on the other line or driving in your car?

Were you hiding upstairs or playing your guitar?

Was there nothing ever wrong, 'cause you were always right?

Tell me, were you blindsided or were you just blind?

. ────── ��

in quinn's letter to me after we divorced, explained that he had not known when we had lost eachother. he hadn't known that i was feeling that way or that the conversations i had tried to have were from a deep and hurt part of me. he said he never knew that i was feeling this way, and i know why. quinn had not been there two years after we married, like i had for him. i went to all the games, even when i really wanted to say 'fuck you' and leave canada and go home. yet, i stayed. thats it. i stayed, even when it broke me beyond anything i had ever felt before.

. ────── ･

And now you're saying that you're lost, and that's lost on me

Years of sitting across from me in therapy

I know the truth is hard to hear, but it wasn't hard to find

Baby, were you blindsided or were you just blind?

. ────── ･

i remember sitting across from him in 2021, right after we had landed in vancouver for the upcoming season, and would not look at me. he wouldn't respond to me the way he had always. his eyes used to twinkled with wonder and amazement every time he responded or looked at me. i knew then that something was wrong, and that he was slipping from my fingers. i was losing him, and i didn't know how long i had been before that. and now he's saying he doesn't know when he lost 'us'. oh babe, i can show you the picture i took the moment we settled in for the night. i remember the moment i suggested therapy, and you looked at me as if i had two heads. that simple comment turned into a fight that left me in tears. which conveniently, was right before the toronto film festival and left me sleeping on the couch. but we will come back to that. i remember sitting in our first therapy session, and somehow someway everything was my fault. then the therapist gave me a chance to speak to him, and for once able to get everything off my chest that had been weighing on it for months. he looked as if he had just gotten beaten up by nathan mackinnon or ryan reaves, anybody at that point. it looked as if he was in disbelief, that somebdoy he 'loved' dearly would say. though, i never said anything hateful, just stuff i had noticed over time. but he did not want to hear that, he didn't. so afterwards he continued to be the old 'perfect' quinn that he was, he did make an effort for a few months before crushingly being eliminated from the 2022 playoffs. we flew back home to michigan, where our new lake house awaited with jack. though, as soon as i stepped into a surprise birthday party for me, ellen could tell that i wanted to be anywhere but there. she saw the nervous faces and nervous ticks clear as day. so as soon as i caught a breathe upstairs, she followed. i told her that i couldn't do it anymore, and that i was leaving her son. she held me as i sobbed, not knowing if i was going to actually leave him or not. to her and jim, i loved quinn and he loved me. though, that was far from the truth. she thought i was just saying it like i had did the summer before.

i left the next day, around 6 am when jack was waking up. he saw the suitcases i had by the door as i was loading them into a uber. jack walked outside with a coffee mug in hand, sipping and watching before i noticed him. "shit!" i seethed, holding a hand to my chest. jack had rolled the last suitcase out for me, and we looked at one another before speaking. "you'll be back." jack said and i shook my head. "no, i wont jack. he doe-doesn't love me anymore." she said and he shook his head. "the way he talks about you says something else." jack said so dead set on keeping me here. "no he doesn't. he doesn't even talk to me jack. hasn't for months. you wanna know why i haven't released a song in how long? because i don't leave the house, i don't hang out with people, i don't do anything because ive been trying to be the perfect wife for him in hopes that'd he say something or thank me. but the only way he thanked me was sleeping with a friend from nashville in our penthouse, that i brought." i said before handing the bag to the uber driver, and slipped in the sleek audi. as we drove off, i saw the shocked jack hughes stand there. he hadn't known.

. ────── ･

I'd go write a song and you'd go for a walk

We had to get drunk to ever really talk

I told you what I needed, didn't have to read my mind

. ────── ･

feburary of 2022, i had begun writing my previous album "just a few thoughts" about some feelings i had been having recently, and wrote songs in a way that could be a million different things. when i wrote the first song, i smiled and quickly went to go find him hoping he was in our room so i could put it by him. that was how it had always been, i write a song he listens. but i couldn't find him, and he told me that night that he went out for a drive to brocks. two days later, he left again. and then as i continued to write the album that month, he kept leaving. to god know's where to. i smiled through it, i smiled through the tears that i had whenver he was around. i smiled through the tears when we were with his teammates. i smiled through the lonely nights in bed, when he was and was not there. when i brought it up around april, once he had not made the playoffs, he screamed at me. telling me that he just didn't want to hear my music anymore. it had felt as if the world was breaking beneath me and that my heart was going with it. the very first time we met, and laid eyes on one another we had been at a music festival in toronto, where i was performing some of my songs at the time. that was one of the things he adored about me, was my music and the way i could write and harmonize. and do the 'singing thing i do' he always called it.

prior to that, it seemed as though everytime i wanted to talk, we had to get drunk. and then when we'd get drunk we'd fight and yell and then wakeup as strangers. then we'd go to bed strangers on and on, until he wanted to be lovey dovey to have sex. and so everytime we'd 'talk' he wouldn't listen to me. he would continue on with his day or night, and just blow me off. it just so happened that one time, brock and his girlfriend had come over one time during it, and were shocked to find us at this state. they had believed that we were the shit, that we just oozed love and adoration for one another. but we know that to be far from the truth.

. ────── ･

And now you're saying that you're lost, and that's lost on me

I never wanted to leave the house, I didn't want a family

I know the truth is hard to hear, but it wasn't hard to find

Baby, were you blindsided or were you just blind?

. ────── ･

in the letter that he had written to me after i filed for a divorce and a restraining order, had left me confused. he told me he had no idea where it went wrong, but that he was now lost because he didn't have me. i remember sobbing at that line, because he had made it seem like it was all my fault like he did in therapy. he just repeated that statement over and over. it seemed as though now, that i was his whole world. that i took up every part of it, the good and bad.

he didn't understand why i did not want children at our two year mark being married, and sixth year being together. you wanna know why? because i never left that damn penthouse, i never left it - rarely for games and team activities. i never left because i wanted to do everything in my power to make it seem like we had a great home life and one that was filled with equality and adoration. yet, as you know now it was far from it.

the day that our divorce was finalized, we both appreared in an ann arbor court to do so. i read a letter aloud for his family and mine to hear. once i was finished, i looked up at quinn and saw the heartbreaking blank stare he had given me for two years. one that was empty and cold. hard to hear, huh? i then looked over towards his family, and saw similar ones and tears falling from ellen's face. what quinn had told her was one side, and partially incorrect. she could see the genuiness and confidence i posessed. she knew.

i sniffled back my tears, and gave a sullen frown to my divorce who embraced me quickly afterwards. i took one last look at the hughes family on the way out, all of them trying to come with terms of my shocking and heartbreaking letter. was quinn really blindsided? nah. he knew all along, but was just blind.

. ────── ･

Like that one time in 2020, before that big show, we had a big fight

I slept on the couch and then the next night you put on your suit

I put on a smile and sang about how it's okay to cry, dying inside

. ────── ･

it was winter of 2020, and i had somehow begged and successfully gotten quinn to come see me perform in toronto at the toronto film festival for one night only show, promoting a single i did for a movie. i had somehow gotten him to take a few days off, in december before christmas. as soon as we had landed, we hurried to the hotel so i could get a early night but that was not meant to be. i ended up sleeping on the couch that night, and the following one he put on a nice suit and i put on a pretty dress. we posed for pictures backstage and on the red carpet for the event, smiling through tears once more. and at the end of my set, i gave a heartfelt thanks to him. i looked backstage to where he said he'd be all night, and had hoped he had returned from god knows where, but when i looked back i didn't see him. he was at the bar, talking to two random people. and had been all night. i sang the very last song, from the movie, about how it was okay to to cry while going through hard times. the crowd not realizing that i was going through the hardest time in my life, and that song represented me and not those damn movie character's it was supposed to be. i remember swallowing back my tears, smiled at the crowd and waved goodbye.

that night we flew home in a private jet, fighting once more becuase he wasn't there the whole time. he didn't understand what it meant to be there for me when i needed and wanted him the most. he was never there. even when i paid for all the flights and hotels. he never got on the plane to see me in europe while i was on tour in summer of 2021. he was in nashville with his brothers and friends, at some music festival. that was a turning point in our marriage for me, i remember (drunkingly) texting ellen and not my mom, at about 2 am denmark time and 8 pm her time. i told her that i couldn't do it anymore. and that i was at my wit's end with this marriage and that i had planned to leave him once i got back. the morning came and i checked my phone to see ellen's text messages and facetimes, from the time i sent the text. i realized i hadn't sent them to my mom but 'mom # 2'. i sighed, biting my lips and texitng her that everything was okay. and that i wasn't leaving. she'd tell him, i just knew it.

. ────── ･

it's been now a year since i filed for divorce, its been now 2 months since i met my now boyfriend, and 2 days since i announced to the world i had new music coming out. i felt like i was going to throw up posting those ill-fated photos that were legally mine now, as i awaited for the response. i heard from people in vancouver that quinn was livid but he had not say or control over me. not anymore atleast. he could be livid and cry like a baby in the penthouse i left him after we divorced. they told me he felt blindsided once more, yet he knew all along this would be happening. that i would get my voice back, and voice what i had been throught the past almost four years now. he had no control over me, and nobody does for that matter.

now as i settle in for the night with my boyfriend josh, who just so happens to play for the san jose sharks i held him a little harder tonight like i normally do. constantly in fear of him leaving or becoming distant. even a year and a half later of not living together and now being divorced for a year, that fear still lingers. but, i had found somebody who was all and completely mine.

hope you all enjoyed, please like and repost!!!!!

no tags, because i feel like i annoy people so

#Quinn hughes #Quinn hughes au #Quinn hughes x oc #nhl #hockey #nhl fic #hockey fic #nhl blurb #hockey blurb #Quinn hughes blurb #Quinn hughes singer au

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mickeys-malarkey · 1 year

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I can't hold my Bendy theories in anymore!!

I've only got a few people to infodump to about Bendy IRL, I'm just so excited after watching the BATDR trailer and reading all the new theories that I can barely sleep or get any work done, and now that we have an official release date they can't chicken out if my theories are correct rofl. So, here I go!

Fair Warning: There's no way to avoid it, this is gonna have so many spoilers for all the current Bendy games and books (well, except BINR. But there's also not really a story in that one) that I'm just gonna have to assume that if you're still reading past this point, you've either already played/read the entire series (obviously minus BATDR) or you don't care about spoilers!

Pt. 1/3: Expanding (Mostly) On My TIOL Thoughts

As I said in my thought summaries here and on Twitter, I hate Nathan Arch. Dude literally sets off every single alarm bell I have, I don't understand why nobody else seems freaked the heck out by him… *shudders* I'm convinced that he's the answer to theMeatly's question.

To start off, I'd like to point out that… Nathan says his notes exist to “provide context for the contemporary reader,” which sounds like he's just gonna be stating general historical facts every reader would've known when the book was originally published but might not know when it was republished and are necessary to understanding what Joey's saying. But that's not what the notes are like at all? They actually consist of very personal information that readers at the time of original publication couldn't possibly have known and definitely aren't necessary to understanding what Joey's saying; and the vast majority seem to specifically be either 1: flip-flopping between singing Joey's praises and making remarks he really shouldn't be making if he were actually trying to dispel the negative rumors around the man as he claims, or 2: confirming or denying descriptions of himself?? 🚨

It feels like he's trying to manipulate us into seeing Joey as a genius and saint whose inventions we should accept with open arms whilst simultaneously positioning the guy as a scapegoat to take all blame in case we don't, and into seeing Nathan himself as an intelligent and kind man who definitely respected and admired Joey and, of course, would never, ever mistreat him, preemptively discrediting any rumors about him being an abusive friend that might crop up. Even when Joey makes comments that in no way cast him in a bad light— Joey be like “oh Nathan loved creative people and even though he would never understand us wanted to be us” and Nathan be like “actually no I like myself fine, and also no I dislike creatives in general, they're boring and too self-indulgent. It's specifically Joey that I admired, and therefore I admired his creativity specifically by extension. Isn't it just like Joey not to see the compliment—?” Um, no?? No, Nathan, that sounds absolutely nothing like Joey; he's literally been enraptured by every statement or action that could possibly be construed as complimenting him in this book. Did you just indirectly end your relationships with every other creative you've ever met so that nobody would believe anyone who claims that you looked down upon Joey? 🚨🚨

Let me get into some of the more unique notes from Nathan.

“The first time I read this [Elves and the Shoemaker] story it meant a great deal to me. Joey, as he said in his introduction, was never one to talk about his past. He never spoke about his parents. I certainly never met them. I don't even remember how I learned his father made shoes. So to get a glimpse back at this part of his life, for an old friend, it was very special. I remember telling Joey all this after I read the manuscript back in ‘41. He just smiled.” ~ Nathan Arch, The Illusion of Living, pg. 23

With the way this note happens right before Joey practically spells out that he trusts nobody and denies everyone even the most innocuous information out of self-preservation in the very next story, it does not feel like Nathan's sharing a heartwarming moment between friends. It feels like he's bragging about his position and accomplishments in their predator-and-prey relationship; like he's proud of himself for slowly breaking Joey down and eventually getting him to divulge info he'd been denying him. If your parents lived nearby and were perfectly lovely people, why do you think that you would neither talk about them with nor introduce them to someone who was supposedly one of your closest friends? I'll get into why I think he finally gave the info up in a bit.

In the Lottie story, if Nathan had only said that he wasn't sure the letter exchange had actually happened, I would've been like “yeah sure, we all know Joey's a liar. 🤷🏻‍♀️” But no, he specifically eases us from confirmation of Eckhart and Donaldson's existences even though he claims to have only briefly met them, to claiming Joey was such a good storyteller he could make you think you personally met someone who never existed even if he'd literally just told you that they were imaginary, to casting doubt on the very existence of a girl he was described as having been known by name to outside of the letter exchange.

“I met Joey the following year at the lab and only briefly had the chance to meet [Private Donaldson and Private Eckhart]. They were every bit the characters Joey describes them to be.” ~ Nathan Arch, The Illusion of Living, pg. 27

“When I first read this I forgot, despite Joey saying as much, that this was fiction, and spent far too much time racking my brain over who this James [who Joey says he told Lottie he met when he came by the lab to say hi to me] was. Joey is so good with his storytelling that even when he tells you it's not real, you can forget a moment later.” ~ Nathan Arch, The Illusion of Living, pg. 37 (emphasis added)

“I have gone through every piece of correspondence Joey ever saved as part of my work preserving his memory and documenting his life, and I must confess I was looking forward to reading Lottie's letters in person, having been moved to tears reading this part of the manuscript thirty years ago. Unfortunately, I have not been able to find them. It is possible they were lost to time, and I do deep down hope that to be true. However, even if this story is revealed to be one of Joey's excellent fictions, I think it doesn't really matter. Joey would, of course, call it another example of his illusion. I think the message in the story is meaningful regardless whether it really happened or not. And regardless if Lottie actually herself existed or not, she is a fine embodiment of the brave women who served our country in war.” ~ Nathan Arch, The Illusion of Living, pg. 41 (emphasis added)

I absolutely do not think this is a reality check, I think Nathan's trying to erase Lottie's existence – even gaslighting anyone who knew her in real life into thinking they'd imagined her – to throw us off the “Joey's Illusion of Living ‘philosophy’ is literally just the coping mechanism of an extremely traumatized man” scent; I wonder if Lottie actually fell victim to suicide shortly after writing to Joey that she was spiraling into a deep, dark depression, and Joey made up everything that happened after that specific letter in order to cope with the loss – pretend that “my dear friend isn't dead despite being sent somewhere there was no actual fighting where I thought she'd be safe; I saved her life and she's living a Happily Ever After overseas, married to a handsome young British soldier” – rather than just the goodbye letter to wrap her story up in a neat bow… Maybe Nathan even helped him pretend she was still alive in order to endear himself to this literal kid who was destroyed with grief?

Speaking of which, does nobody find the circumstances under which Nathan and Joey met… concerning? Nathan says “we knew each other since we were teenagers,” which sounds fine until you realize they met because Joey lied about his age and joined the army while still a minor, where he was bullied and pressured into things like underage drinking by grown-@$$ legal adults, multiple of which were also of higher rank. And not only was Nathan one of those grown-@$$ legal adults of higher rank and definitely bullying him just like the others (“I swear I definitely didn't join the other guys in giving him that Real Man™ complex of his like he says—” yeah, sure, Nathan, I totally believe you /s. 🙄), but clearly his horrifying apparent hobby that I'll explain next was already established at the time, seeing as Joey saw the photo of Ivan Newsome dying in agony with his own eyeballs when Nathan introduced him to Walter Richmond… 😬🚩

I'm convinced that Walter, Arthur, and Isabel were three of Nathan's previous victims, and they mirror the relationships he has with Joey, Allison, and Susie.

Walter looking at Nathan “as if asking permission to speak” before engaging Joey in conversation (Nathan nudges us towards believing they had no prior relationship by stating that he was flattered by Joey's observation that he had a way of introducing anyone so that it felt like they were his guest even if he'd just met them… but technically neither confirms nor denies anything 👀) has creepily similar vibes to how Joey “just smiled” in response to Nathan's gushing over the info on his parents; I feel like Joey gave up the info because he had to jump through hoops in order for Nathan to give him permission to publish his book— to be able to get the thing out the door without tripping any of Nathan's “Joey's disobeying and must be punished” alarms. Also, notice how Walter mysteriously had “a lot of people who knew him, but nobody who wanted to claim the title of ‘Walter's friend…’” and how the only people Joey's apparently still in contact with in BATIM are A: one of Nathan's (confirmed) employees, B: a janitor who didn't even realize Joey would remember him so definitely doesn't have enough of a relationship with Joey for Nathan to consider him a threat, and C: a shady veterinarian (wouldn't be surprised if he works for Nathan, as well). It's a classic abuser's tactic to isolate and villainize their victim so that they have no choice but to rely on the abuser; I'll get into more reasons I think that was happening in a bit.

I find it suspicious how Arthur not only personally delivers Ivan's effects to his sister Isabel, just tells her what happened which you'd expect someone with such fresh and debilitatingly severe PTSD to be very reluctant to do, and sticks around to befriend her, but also attends her art show showcasing Walter's war photos— it feels like someone was forcing Arthur to do all of this behind-the-scenes, and maybe the firecracker scene wasn't just about Isabel punishing the rich people for their morbid fascinations, but also Nathan punishing Arthur for being difficult about the situation behind-the-scenes. Meanwhile, Joey just happens to hire this random voice actress to replace Susie who we know just happens to be working for Nathan by the time BATIM happens, the memo that she had been hired specifically marked “don't deliver to Susie” just happens to make it into Susie's possession (seeing as she paraphrases it to Henry), Allison seems to know full well that Joey can't fire her when he tries to in DCTL, and then, by TLO, something has apparently happened to where Tom's been rehired which neither he nor Joey had any choice in and he doesn't wanna talk to anyone about (I doubt it was just all the deaths in DCTL, especially considering Joey went from his furious “I never want to see you again” attitude to begging Tom to come back. We've only heard him beg once before, which I'll get into later), and Tom and Allison have bizarrely switched opinions on the situation and machine (Allison changing from “your invention is amazing, Tom! Why are you stuck on the bad parts of the situation?” in DCTL to “I don't understand why you accepted this job back” in TLO, and Tom changing from “horrible things happened because of my machine, I wish I'd never been ensnared by this place” in DCTL to “why doesn't Ally understand? You don't just abandon a miracle” in TLO)—? It seems to me like Allison was never truly Joey's employee, she was Nathan's employee the whole time (which puts Joey's refusal to attend her and Tom's wedding in a whole new light), and Joey wasn't the only one punished for his failures and attempts to override the steel tycoon's authority.

To reiterate, since I saw some people being confused about the massive change: even with the memory loss issue, Allison's opinion in BATDR is just a natural progression from when the something happened between DCTL and TLO. 😛😬

Anyways, I get the distinct impression that creating situations like these to turn people into murder puppets without anyone being the wiser he was even involved is a hobby of Nathan's.

“…I am glad that he wrote [the murder mystery story] down this one time. It helps me to remember Joey at his most charming and sharp. Later years he became too fixated on things he might have gotten wrong, there was too much guilt and worry, too much fear. It didn't feel like the same man at the end, that's for sure.” ~ Nathan Arch, The Illusion of Living, pg. 98

You can't tell me that doesn't sound like he gets off on seeing how absolutely ruthless he can make his victims whilst still having them believe they're in the right and he's bitter as heck that one of his favorite pet projects came to his senses and was haunted by his conscience later in life— he literally just admitted he preferred a Joey who admired a murderer and thought that allowing people to die and getting murdered himself must've been worth it for Walter because now he has the immortality of being in a fascinating story instead of having lived in mediocrity over a Joey who felt guilt.

On that note, I absolutely do not believe Nathan's note on Henry's story was him trying to get the truth out about Henry being a despicable person. This is actually the chapter that first clued me in on Nathan's creepiness when I did my ADHD “skim the whole book except reading all the way through anything that looks especially interesting before properly reading” thing I do.

“Joey has always been a professional person, far more so in many ways than me. That is why this section of the book is so forgiving of the man who abandoned the studio he helped create. Joey can't help but see the good in people. That being said, as a good friend of Joey's, I know that Henry's departure was a great upheaval for him and a great personal betrayal. Joey never truly forgave Henry, and I don't think he should have felt obligated to. The fact that Joey is so gracious in this part of the book is a reflection of his incredible generosity in allowing Henry Stein to be stainless in the eyes of history. I think, had he lived longer, Joey might have in later years called it his greatest illusion.” ~ Nathan Arch, The Illusion Of Living, pg. 155

At first I found his saltiness funny, but then I read Joey's actual descriptions and… he's very clearly trying and failing to put down an amazing person, not build up a horrible one. I wondered why Nathan would be claiming the opposite and I realized— it sounds like he's admitting to being Dead Sea Level salty that Joey got terminally ill specifically because he's certain that, if he hadn't, he would've eventually been able to fully convince Joey that Henry was the villain rather than himself and therefore Joey wouldn't have reached out to the animator towards the end of his life in BATIM. Which leads me to my next observation:

I think Joey's play, “The Angel and The Devil,” was about Henry and Nathan.

I don't care that the Shoulder Angel is played by Abby and the Shoulder Devil is played by Joey, lol; that doesn't matter when you look at the actual content. I want you to read this excerpt:

Angel: [Empathy] is a wonderful talent that also leads [humans] down dark paths. Devil: Thank goodness for dark paths, they lead all great artists to their greatest creations. Angel: Empathy is your provenance then? Devil: We share it— for you it leads men to reach out and help, build hospitals, begin charities… Angel: For you it allows men to achieve their greatness through manipulation and fear. Devil: Is it not wonderful?

Going back to the murder mystery story, Walter and Isabel's thought processes perfectly match what the Shoulder Devil in Joey's play is described as using empathy to inspire humanity to do:

Walter was inspired to let Ivan die so that his photo – his art – would have a more compelling story that tugs at the heartstrings.

Isabel was inspired to kill Walter for the crime of letting Ivan die, masterfully manipulating her confession so that it technically wasn't a confession, instilling fear of herself in everyone present with the fact that if she did do it then she was untouchable legally thanks to her money, and finally, she was fully convinced that she would also be untouchable socially— even be better off, because people would see her as a hero for delivering justice to a monster like Walter.

Going back to BATIM, Joey literally says this to our faces:

“The truth is, you were always so good at pushing, Henry… Pushing me to do the right thing. You should've pushed a little harder.” ~ Joey Drew, Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 5

Does that not sound like Henry was good at using empathy to inspire kindness/etc. the way the Shoulder Angel is described as doing (Joey's actually very right that empathy is a morally neutral phenomenon that can be used for good or evil! *Spoken with hyper-empathetic autistic/low-to-no-empathy autistic solidarity*)?

The Angel and Devil also say that whichever of them the man they were assigned to doesn't choose will have to leave. This tells me that the ending of Joey's play – where it's implied the man the angel and devil were assigned to chose the angel – was read rather than acted out (with the excuse that they for some reason couldn't pick a random person to play him out of the crowd like they did for the Hatcheck Girl) in order to symbolize how Joey wanted to choose his true friend and make the toxic one leave, but he had that choice taken away from him when Henry was driven away despite his best efforts. In other words, I think both his version of the friend breakup story and Henry's version have elements of truth and deception to them.

Anybody notice that it seems like Wally and Tom seemed to have been being pitted against and told lies about each other as well as having their work sabotaged by an unknown third party?

“So here's my beef with this whole Gent thing. I went to school, yeah that's right— me! Star Student at Brickmore High. I know my potatoes! So where's this ‘Mr. Connor’ fella get off telling me what to do? These college boys. They can tell ya what's wrong but if you try to fix it on ‘em. They're outta here!” ~ Wally Franks, Boris and the Dark Survival

“Not all of us are well connected, son. Not all of us have chances. Especially to get a job as an engineer when I ain't had no proper education and training.” ~ Thomas Connor, Dreams Come to Life, pg. 252

“If there's one loose bolt around here we're gonna have a whole mess of trouble. And wouldn't you know it, that Wally guy is one loose bolt! He keeps the floors clean he says, he didn't sign on for no science project. All I know is someone needs to keep these pipes maintained. And he can't be a slacker.” ~ Thomas Connor, Boris and the Dark Survival

Wally thinks he's being looked down upon for not having gone to college like Tom (who didn't go to college) and his efforts to help out are not just unappreciated but met with unreasonable emotional response. Meanwhile, Tom thinks Wally's being selfish and lazy and leaving all the work to be done by him. Sound familiar?

“…Henry left for his own reasons, and the correspondence between us became less and less. To be honest, it almost felt like a weight off when he left. He had grown more sensitive as the studio became more successful and giving him pep talks had become exhausting for me. All the good qualities he brought, the hard work and diligence, were being undermined by a restless need for something different. Something that wasn't Bendy. I'll never understand that drive. Bendy was and is perfection.” ~ Joey Drew, The Illusion of Living, pg. 176-177

“Only two weeks into this project and already it's gotten interesting. Joey is a man of ideas… And only ideas. When I agreed to start this whole thing with him I thought there would be a little more give and take. Instead I give, and he takes. I haven't seen Linda for days now. Still, someone has to make this happen. When in doubt, just keep drawing Henry. On the plus side, I've got a new character I think people are gonna love.” ~ Henry Stein, Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 3

Joey thinks that Henry was being unreasonably emotional and looking down upon Bendy as not good enough (when he obviously loved the character/cartoons), and that his efforts to help were unappreciated. Meanwhile, Henry thinks Joey was being a selfish, lazy leech and leaving all the work to be done by him.

Is it really a stretch at all to wonder if Henry and Joey were similarly being pitted against and told lies about each other as well as having their work sabotaged by an unknown third party? Maybe the exact same third party?

This makes me very suspicious about who was really behind the worrying newspaper in Joey's apartment; something tells me that Joey's Shoulder Devil successfully pushed his Shoulder Angel off that right shoulder. Twice. I can see Nathan thinking “fine, if you won't give up on this stupid animator, I'll use this opportunity to remove him from the picture permanently and poetically…”

Is Joey's being so touched by the memory of Isabel “angelically” helping Arthur during his war flashbacks an “I wish my Shoulder Angel would come save me?” And is his horror at the descriptions of Shell Shock (PTSD) as basically a time loop foreshadowing that he ends up trapped in a real time loop, himself, by Nathan's sadistic design? I think it's likely, especially after reading @dreamfisher-nux's posts speculating on Wilson's identity. If he's the Gent worker who stole Shaun's tool belt in BATDS and “somebody” who stole Tom's invention in Allison's BATIM Chapter 5 letter, and that invention was the seeing tool, so Wilson's the one that's been tampering with Henry's invisible messages, and he potentially murdered Henry and Joey when Henry returned at Joey's request… How much of this and how much more might he have been doing under Nathan's influence? Is he another one of Nathan's Murder Puppets? 👀

I think all the Henry stuff also explains why Joey claims that Sammy, Jack, and Norman were hired after Mr. Animator left despite the evidence in BATIM and DCTL that Sammy and Norman knew him personally. The only two versions of events he's being allowed to hear are “Henry leaving is your fault and your feelings about the situation are unreasonable” and “Henry was an awful person, you should be glad he's gone.” Nathan would never allow him to hear “it's Nathan's fault and your feelings about the situation are valid,” so he's gotta choose between believing two very painful other options; why wouldn't he try to discredit the most painful one?

While we're adding to the list of people who Nathan seems to have made disappear Mafia Boss-style, it sure seems awfully convenient that the two main Crack-Up Comics artists’ names “appear to have been lost to time” after they wrote a comic where Bendy (Joey) was literally sweating over how Boswell (Nathan) was the richest cat in the world and could crush him like a bug if he didn't perform his job to satisfaction…

…Sounds to me like Nathan did something to shut these two people up so that word of the true nature of his and Joey's relationship wouldn't get out.

Also, interesting how the disappearances of not only a reporter-in-training and the sister of two well-known entertainers but also the only son of the richest, most influential and most dangerous man in Atlantic City didn't get Mr. Joey “Bankrupt From Impulsive Spending Who Apparently Doesn't Even Have The Power To Fire His Own Employees (and ‘Employees’) Nor The Respect Of Enough People To Not Be Giggled At And Whispered About During His Own Speech At His Own Party” Drew and all of his employees arrested or worse… In fact, from the new teaser and archive images that came out, we now know the studio survived for almost two years afterwards before filing bankruptcy and closing forever…

…at which point Joey was mysteriously missing for a while. This is pretty much pure speculation, but I wonder if it could be that Joey's need for a wheelchair stems from an injury sustained in this time? Mr. Mafia Boss decided he needed his kneecaps busted or something?? At any rate, it sounds to me like Joey had someone richer, more influential, and more dangerous than Mr. Chambers “on his side…” until he failed too many times, and needed to be punished more severely? 👀

“Again I shook my head. Didn't [Constance] understand that this was not how it worked? She hadn't lived in my world. Any company that could afford such a machine, that could hide it, that had such dark huge secrets, they had to be protected by something huge as well.” ~ Bill Chambers, Bendy: The Lost Ones, pg. 191

Then, ink machine things continued at Gent… until the year Allison and Tom got married.

Sounds to me like Gent might've been condemned in order to punish Allison and Tom either for the very fact that they got married (making them more-difficult-to-control puppets) or because they failed to get Joey to come to their wedding where Nathan could access him in-person again…

This archive entry sounds as if Joey had to go into hiding, perhaps to escape Nathan and/or people like Bill's dad who were waiting for Nathan to rescind his protection? Also, as an animation history nerd, it sounds to me like the Bendy cartoons were picked up by other studios besides Archgate in attempt to reboot them after JDS kicked the bucket (as has happened to countless cartoons whose original studios kicked the bucket in real life, e.g., the Fleischer cartoons, the Hanna-Barbera cartoons, the Veggie Tales cartoons, etc.), and it wouldn't surprise me if these “minor attempts to rekindle the magic” were Joey's feeble attempts at keeping what was left of Bendy out of Nathan's claws. Remember, Nathan didn't say in Crack-Up Comics that he “inherited” the Bendy IP from Joey's estate, he said he bought it, as further confirmed in the final archive entry.

This means Joey did not leave Bendy to Nathan in his will. In fact, it sounds like he either didn't have a will at all or it was destroyed when he died… Anyone notice that Joey's secret BATDS recording, where he asks Nathan for money, is the only time we've heard him sound audibly nervous?

Strange how, in DCTL, Joey calls Bertrum “Bertrum” when introducing him to the most uncomfortable person at his party, who respects him as his boss; it's not until the people who hold financial power over him start whispering and giggling that he introduces him as “Bertie,” as if he wasn't specifically trying to slight Bertrum as the man in question assumed, but instead was trying to assert to all the hungry cats in the room that he was also a cat, rather than a tasty lil mouse for them to devour… Nathan is worse than them? He's able to break Joey's facade of confidence that this crowd of investors could only make him reinforce? What's worse, the investors he tries to persuade like he does everyone else, convince that they should give him money because everything's great… but Nathan, who's supposedly his friend, he begs for money, saying that the one-and-only reason he's asking this is because the situation is dire (implying he has no choice). That's… worrisome.

Funny how, across DCTL, TIOL, and TLO, Joey consistently pulls or feels the urge to pull his cruel pranks on people anytime a new person seems to be hiding things from him or trying to take advantage of him. Buddy after being caught stealing art supplies? Bill after being caught lying about not having knowledge of the ink machine? Sammy when he suspected his deadpan-&-monotone-ness was an act and that he didn't respect him? Almost seems like the pranks are actually the survival mechanism of someone who's had a whole lotta really bad experiences with betrayal, having things hidden from him, getting taken advantage of, etc. rather than just the product of a twisted sense of humor, hm…?

“…inside I was feeling a little angry now. I don't do well when people are disloyal, and this was something I'd expected to be kept between me and Abby. Then I stopped and controlled myself (I have excellent control over my emotions) and realized I had never actually told her there was anything secret about this. I'd have to be more careful in the future. Believe you me, I have been since. A contract is a fine thing to have between colleagues, even finer at times between friends.” ~ Joey Drew, The Illusion of Living, pg. 170-171

“[Sammy] leaned back on both elbows on the stone wall. Beneath him Fifth Avenue roared and certain death would come to anyone who toppled over the edge down onto it. The man definitely had confidence in that wall. I had a sudden urge to give him a shove. Not push him over, but just to see his reaction. This might sound strange, but I needed to see a human moment from him, I needed to see the man he was hiding from me. That's the trouble when you're interested in recreating the illusion of the world. You want to see the truth of it as much as possible.” ~ Joey Drew, The Illusion of Living, pg. 188-189 (emphasis added)

Also, it's weird that, when talking about reuniting with Nathan at the Sparkling Unicorn, Joey claims not to have known Nathan very well in the army but to always have liked his personality… after having claimed to be close enough friends with him that he helped him write fake letters from a fictional character to Lottie, just a few pages earlier. Either Joey's not nearly as good a liar as he's supposed to be… or this discrepancy was created on purpose in an attempt to tell us that Joey only liked Nathan's personality back when they were in the army because he didn't actually know him as well as he thought he did. 👀

This all together…

…really makes one wonder if Joey's little intro to TIOL wasn't him humble-bragging, but genuinely explaining that the reason he took so long to write it was because A: he's been being gaslit to heck and back for decades and genuinely doesn't know what reality is as a result, and B: refusing to write this book was one of the few ways he was able to assert real control over his own life for a very long time…

“Looking back is awkward. Looking back, you can trip yourself up. I've never been a fan of it. Which is why I never had a desire to tell my story. No matter how many book deals were offered, no matter how many dinners were thrown for me. I am a man who makes up my own mind. You can't buy me. No one buys Joey Drew.” ~ Joey Drew, The Illusion of Living, pg. 3

Speaking of the intro, interesting how, as much as Joey tries to claim that his surprise at Simmons remembering his “philosophy” is because Simmons isn't the brightest bulb in the factory, he still gets noticeably hung up on the fact that his words had stuck with someone; it's almost as if the vast majority of people he knew either openly viewed him as a talentless idiot or genuinely were trying to manipulate him as he was so seemingly paranoid about, and he was beyond desperate for any scrap of genuine praise anyone would give him, no…? *Stares at basically every audio log, literally every Nathan note, and every scene where Joey reacted unsubtly ecstatically to compliments and/or irate at any hint someone was looking down on him*

Anyone notice how, throughout his whole memoir, Joey sings the praises of anyone he clearly wants to be like and drags anyone who resembles what he's actually like through the mud? “Omigosh, Sammy is just so talented and powerful and automatically respected and praised by everyone! He's so awesome! 🤩” “Yuck, Detective Sinclair wears a persona to hide how useless and powerless he is and is just so desperate for validation! I hate him! 😤 Btw, this stuff is not what my philosophy is about, I'm actually changing reality here (whatever makes you feel better, Joey /hj).” I guess this leads me into the next section…

Continued in Part Two: Expanding (Mostly) On My DCTL & TLO Thoughts

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mackenzielovee · 1 year

Text

unpolished (5) — andy barber

summary: You meet the woman who signed Andy's divorce papers, and she brings a wave of doubt.

warnings: swearing, mention of divorce, sexual innuendoes

wc: 3.4k

a/n: hi<3 andy is finally back and ready to steal your heart ... kinda. i hope you guys enjoy this, please let me know what you think! reblogs are very appreciated :)

One.

You’ve come up with one advantage to Andy not being in the office today — and you’ve been brainstorming for thirty minutes. Even with the length of time, your reasoning is trivial.

You could eat your fast food breakfast at your desk without hiding it from him today.

That’s it.

So far, you’ve only had a few clients call to schedule or change appointments, you updated Andy’s calendar that connects to his phone to let him know that the paperwork for two cases needs to be done by tomorrow morning, and, you’ve faxed Ana five old sheets from your planner last year where you wrote down that the two of you were ‘meeting for drinks!!!!’.

In between sporadic emails and phone calls, you continue with trivial games to try and occupy the time — and your mind.

You can’t help but wonder how Andy’s doing. If he hates his day so far, or loves it, or somewhere in between. You stop yourself when you wonder if he’s thinking about you; instead, figuring out what you want to do for lunch.

You place your own carry-out order from the sushi place you’d eaten with Andy in his office that day, but pay for it yourself instead of on his card. Something about using it when he’s not here just feels off.

With a sigh, you mark yourself as ‘away’ on your computer and hold the phone calls, then make your way downstairs and down the street to pick up lunch. Grateful that the walk is treating you to fresh air and an escape from the stuffy office, you take your time on your way back.

Ana has a meeting through her usual lunch break today, so as you collapse back into your desk chair to eat, you set the phones for incoming calls.

You don’t expect many, given that it’s lunch time, and unpack your sushi. You even turn on your favorite show on your phone to watch while you eat.Just before you can, however, the phone rings in front of you.

Not bothering to withhold the automatic rolling of your eyes, you freeze when you see the name on the caller ID.

Barber, Andrew.

Your eyes practically pop out of your head as your brain tells you he’s watching you, someway, somehow, and you immediately sit up straight. Clearing your throat, you pick up the phone, opting to play the best role you can.

“Andy Barber’s office, how may I assist you?”

You smile when you hear the low timbre of his laugh through the phone.

“It’s just me.”

You bite your lip, “Oh. Hi.”

“Hi,” he replies, his smile evident, “Listen, I’m missing a few pages in the Nathan file.”

Your expression drops and you immediately slide your chair over to the filing cabinet, stretching the phone cord as far as it will go.

“Shoot, I’m sorry, I thought you only needed one copy,” you explain quickly, “Can I fax them? I’ve got the whole file right here—”

“Y/N,” Andy laughs again, forcing you to drop the tenseness in your shoulders, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I left the copies on my desk by accident.”

“Oh,” you reply, “Right. Well, I can fax them to you now, or after lunch. Whenever you need them.”

“Are you on lunch right now?”

You glance at your full tray of sushi; unsure why your first instinct is to lie just in case he needs something right now.

“Yeah,” you admit. “But, it can totally wait if you want the copies now.”

He ignores you, “What did you bring?”

“I didn’t bring anything. I got sushi from down the street.”

You sit back in your chair, biting down on your pointer finger to hide a smile at the thought of getting Andy’s favorite sushi without him. You expect him to scoff, whine, or complain about the food at the courthouse. What you don’t expect him to do, however, is bring out his lawyer voice.

“Hm. That’s weird. I usually get an alert when the firm’s credit card is used.”

Heat crawls around your insides as you wonder if he’s giving you an opportunity to confess, and you know a smart man like him already has the answer.

“I used my twenty percent raise, actually.”

Andy laughs at that, “Funny girl. Don’t do that anymore. Use that card whether I’m there or not, understood?”

“Understood,” you repeat back to him, ignoring the funny feeling in your stomach.

“Great,” he replies, “You can fax them over after you eat. I don’t need them until later this afternoon.”

You nod, even though he can’t see you. The phone cord rests in your hands as you fidget, unsure of what to say next.

“Okay,” you squeak.

You hear him chuckle, and somehow, the sound makes you relax in your chair. You forget all about the sushi in front of you; only able to focus on him.

“Am I missing anything there?” he asks.

You shrug, “Someone spilled coffee in the lobby. The janitor was not happy at all.”

“Someone, huh?” Andy snickers.

“Not me,” you say quickly, “Swear. But, I am going to make some tea later, and I’m going to be extra careful with my mug.”

“Oh, yeah, two spills in one day is a lot. Even for you.”

“Hey!” you exclaim, sitting up in your chair, “It really was not me who spilled the coffee.”

“Mhm, sure,” he hums, “Well, I should be back a little after three, so if you wanted to wait and have tea then, we could go over notes from today and the calendar for the rest of the week.”

You purse your lips as a smile starts to threaten them, “I could fit that into my schedule, I think.”

“I’d really appreciate that,” he replies, his voice equal parts husky and teasing before you hear shuffling on his end of the phone, “Listen, I gotta run. Don’t forget to fax me that file when you can, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply quickly, “Um, good luck.”

His laugh is low, “Thanks. Go eat. I’ll see you later.”

“See you,” you reply, and you don’t miss the way both of you stay on the line for a few seconds of silence before you finally dare to set the phone back down on the receiver.

The smile doesn’t leave your face as you eat, fax papers to Andy over at the courthouse, or catch up on emails when you finally log back in on your computer. You can’t stop thinking about him; wondering what suit he’s wearing today, if his cases are going well, and what kind of mood he’ll be in when he arrives.

Daydreaming, you picture him coming in with that smile you’ve become newly acquainted with, and he’d invite you into his office for tea and a meeting, where you’ll constantly have to tell yourself to stop blushing.

You rise from your desk after about an hour and walk down the hall to the restroom, taking your time returning. Nobody has called since Andy, and you’re sure the remainder of the day will be just as slow.

However, as you walk back to your desk, straightening your dress and fixing your hair, you notice a figure standing in front of your desk. Plastering a friendly, professional smile on, you round the corner and watch as she turns to face you.

“Hello,” you greet her, “How may I help you?”

You watch as she eyes you up and down, then scoffs to herself. You swallow down every bit of you that wants to ask what her problem is, and instead, you stand straighter.

“I’m here for Andy,” she tells you, crossing her arms over her chest.

You nod patiently, “I’m so sorry, he’s not in the office today. He’s actually in court and didn’t have any meetings with clients scheduled—”

You move toward your desk to check his calendar for the millionth time today, sure that the time slot for this hour is empty because he’d crossed it out.

“I’m not a client,” she says sternly, “I’m his wife.”

She watches as your eyes widen, but what she can’t see is the way your throat constricts and your breath catches.

His wife. Here. In his office. Alone, with you.

The possessive side of you, the daydreaming, crushing on Andy side of you, demands to remind her that you’d seen the divorce papers. She is no longer his wife, and you resent that she is identifying herself as such.

The professional, assistant to Andy side of you, requires you to stand up straight, give her a friendly smile, and play the part until she walks right back out onto the street and out of your life.

“Oh,” you whisper, nodding, “Right. I’m sorry. I’m Y/N, I’m Andy’s assistant.”

“Great, so you have the key to his office.”

She speaks matter-of-factly, as if she doesn’t care to know anything about you. Or Andy, for that matter. You frown, allowing your emotions to visibly show for one long moment as you stare at her.

You wonder, briefly, what it was about this woman that sparked Andy’s interest. She’s beautiful, sure, but she seems drained. Tired, empty, and by all accounts, average. While you know there’s nothing wrong with average, and even use the term to describe yourself, you know that Andrew Barber doesn’t strike you as the type to settle for average.

“Andy didn’t tell me you’d be coming by,” you say hesitantly, stepping around your desk.

Her eyes narrow, “I told him this morning.”

“I just spoke to him an hour ago,” you fire back, and before you know it, it’s become a game.

Tennis, but with words. Tossing the ball back and forth, sizing one another up, until one of you gets caught and drops the ball.

She smiles, but it’s impatient, “You know how he gets. He’s so forgetful. I told him while we were still in bed, which is probably why he forgot.”

“Right,” you smile back, upstaging her. Andy’s never forgotten a thing around you, and you’d bet anything and everything she’s lying right through her teeth.

You ignore the sinking feeling, however, at the image of this woman in bed with Andy. And this morning? There’s no way. Andy doesn’t like messy situations, which is why he cleans them up for a living. This woman has mess written all over her.

“Can you just unlock his office? I have to grab something and then I’ll be out of your way.”

You watch her body language, the way she stands impatiently, like she’s frustrated that you’re here when she’s the one who clearly doesn’t belong.

“I’m sorry, I don’t feel comfortable doing that without Andy present,” you confess, “My butt on the line, you know.”

She rolls her eyes, “Like I said, I’m his wife. It’s fine.”

You bite your tongue so you don’t blurt out that you’ve seen the papers.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat.

She huffs and shakes her head, but readjusts her purse on her shoulder and walks away. You don’t relax until the elevator dings and closes with her inside of it, at which point, you collapse in your chair and double check that the key to Andy’s office is right where you left it.

At five minutes until three o’clock, the elevator dings, the doors open, and a smug looking Andy Barber strolls out of them. You’re in the middle of typing out an email when he rounds the corner, stopping every motion your body makes when you catch sight of him.

He grins when you meet his eyes, earning a tight smile in response from you.

“Afternoon,” he greets you, holding up a coffee and a pastry bag in his hand, “Got you something.”

Your eyes widen as he sets the pastry bag down on your desk, revealing a perfectly warmed blueberry muffin.

“Thank you,” you breathe.

“You’re welcome,” he’s beaming now, and a feeling of anxiousness settles on your chest, “C’mon in my office. I want to go over the cases from today and move some stuff around for the rest of the week.”

You blink once, twice, three times, as you stare at him and watch as he unlocks his office door. Once open, he lets out a relieved breath and turns, finding you still seated and not touching the food he brought you.

You swallow roughly, unable to speak, while he furrows his brows and sets his now free hand on his hip.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” he asks slowly.

You stare at him for a moment, then two, and shrug your shoulders.

“Your wife came by here today.”

His eyes darken at the mere mention of the word, and you watch him analyze that statement syllable by syllable. With a clenched jaw, Andy speaks in a deeper voice than before.

“I don’t have a wife,” he informs you, as if he somehow knows you need to hear him say it, “You met my ex-wife?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “She’s lovely.”

Andy snorts, “Laurie is not lovely. What did she say to you?”

You recall her words — the ones about waking up next to Andy this morning and how she claimed to have permission to go into his locked office when he wasn’t here. The last thing you want to do is get dragged into drama, but, you think, Laurie already took care of that for you.

“She wanted to get into your office,” you say quietly, looking down in your lap to hide from his intense stare.

His body tenses, which you see out of the corner of your eye.

“Did you—”

“Of course I didn’t,” you interrupt.

Andy lets out a relaxed breath, then takes a few steps over to you. His office door is left wide open and he abandons his things without care.

“Okay,” he says, as if testing the water as he steps closer, “So, what’s bothering you?”

You can’t tell him. It’s unprofessional — admitting to your boss that you’re wondering if he slept with his ex-wife and woke up to her this morning. There’s no way that you could play that off, even, and who knows how Andy would react?

“Nothing,” you say quickly, “I just wasn’t sure what to do, and I couldn’t call you because you were in court, so I refused to let her in. I didn’t want you to be mad if I made the wrong choice.”

His expression softens in understanding, “I would never be mad at you for respecting my privacy.”

You nod, swallowing down your real concern. He watches this, but says nothing.

“Okay,” you squeak, “Got it.”

When you tip your head toward his office, as if to silently ask if he wants to go on with the meeting now, he doesn’t move a muscle. It’s a long moment of silence and staring, until finally, he moves to the side and lets you enter his office ahead of him.

You hold your breath as you pass him, silently noting what a gentleman he is. He always has been, even when you were convinced he hated you.

Andy follows you into his office and closes the door behind him. You sit in front of his desk, the same seat you always occupy when you come in here. He walks around his desk and removes his blazer, hanging it on the back of his chair before he sits.

“Any plans tonight?” he asks you.

You open your mouth to tell him that you don’t; that you’re just going to head home and order a pizza and open a bottle of wine. Just as the sound comes up your throat, you stop. The thought of him in bed with his ex-wife is enough to force a lie out of your mouth.

“A date,” you blurt, “I have a date.”

Andy’s jaw clenches, “Really?”

“Yes,” you lie, nodding, “It’s a third date, actually.”

“Hm,” he hums, glancing at his computer screen, “How interesting. I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

“Yep,” you say quickly.

He nods, his jaw still tightly wound. Silence falls over both of you, but it’s not comfortable. Andy types aggressively on his computer, letting you sit in the tense air.

“So, what?” he finally says, looking at you for the first time in several minutes, “Dinner and a movie?”

You stare at him blankly, trying to figure out his game. With a shrug, trying to keep things nonchalant, you move your glance to his desk.

“Dinner,” you answer.

“Oh, really? Where’s he taking you?”

Still unsure where this is going, you blurt out the first place that meets the criteria of a date.

“That new Italian place on 42nd Street,” you mumble.

Andy watches you tug on a loose string of your sweater, looking more like a child in the principal’s office than his assistant. Turning to his computer screen, Andy types a few things out, then chuckles.

“How funny,” he says, a new playfulness in his voice, “I’m having dinner at the same restaurant tonight with a potential client.”

Your eyes go wide and you immediately look up at him, “You are?”

“I am,” he replies, looking smug, “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all,” you answer.

He nods once, then looks back at his computer screen. As silence takes over the room again, you wonder how this all went south so quickly. What you thought would be a nice afternoon with warm tea and Andy’s presence has turned into what feels like a game of chess between the two of you.

“Let’s just go over the rest of the week so you can get back to the phones,” he says, his voice harsh and deep.

Your heart sinks to your stomach, but you nod your head and look down at his calendar. Silently, you wonder what to do, how to handle this situation, given that Andy now expects to see you on a date — a third date — with a guy that does not exist.

“Cancel my two o’clock meeting on Friday,” Andy says, not bothering to look over at you, “And my four o’clock. See if they can both reschedule for next week.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, your voice weak.

Andy pauses and looks at you for a beat too long, finally drawing your eyes to his. For a moment, you both just stare at each other, letting all of the unspoken words keep you from being honest.

He’s first to drop his eyes, somehow looking as if he feels guilt. You refuse to question it, and instead, clear your throat audibly.

“Anything else?” you ask him.

He shakes his head. You’re not sure what to do, so you stand and excuse yourself quietly. Your heart starts to ache with each step you take that Andy doesn’t try to stop you. You’re to his office door and actively turning the handle when he speaks.

“Y/N.”

You turn, “Yes, sir?”

His eyes soften when they meet yours, and it feels as if he can see right through you.

“My ex-wife won’t be coming around here anymore,” he promises, then adds, “I’ll make sure of that. And, if she said anything that made you angry or uncomfortable, I apologize for it. I’m sure, whatever it was, it was untrue.”

You know he’s fishing for you to tell him what she said, but you’re in too deep, now. You’d have to also admit that the date was a lie, and having to deal with Andy asking you why you chose to say that makes you feel embarrassed already.

Instead, you give him a small, clearly fake smile, and nod your head.

“Let me know if I can get you anything else,” you say softly, then add, “Mr. Barber.”

Andy’s face falls right as you exit his office, but he doesn’t bother calling you back in. He just watches as the door closes, taking you with it.

You hurry to your desk and pick up your phone — because, of course, you can’t email Ana anymore — and type out a text to her. Although embarrassing, you explain the situation and request her help, knowing that if anyone will come through for you, it will be her.

Tags:

@goldenjo @onmykneesforrafe @r0und3bitch @bellsnuit @infatuatedjanes @swthxrry @royalwriteroftheuniverse

#andy barber x female reader #andy fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber #andy fic #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #defending jacob fanfiction #defending jacob #chris evans character x reader #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans characters

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fallinallincurls · 5 months

Note

can i possibly ask for an erik johnson blurb from prompt list #1 with prompt #16 which is “"he treats me well-" "okay good for you." "- but he isn't you."” I WOULD DIE 🥹🥹🥹

thank you for the request ah!! i had fun writing this one!

it wasn't supposed to be like this. you thought you were going to marry erik, move into his house in california, travel the world and start a family. but when it all came crashing down and those dreams turned to dust, only one person was there.

nathan.

you didn't expect to fall in love with him so quickly. especially not so soon after the heartbreak and misery that your relationship with erik had caused. and although there might've been a time where you would've felt guilty about dating his teammate right after, you don't feel that now. erik is across the country playing in buffalo and probably has no idea you're even with nate.

that is until the sabres come to denver to play the avs.

you know most of the guys are going out to dinner with erik the night before the game to catch up with an old friend. and despite nate's devotion to you, erik is still one of his closest friends. you decide to be friendly if you see him and luckily escape dropping nate off at the restaurant without seeing a glimpse of the tall blonde haired man you used to love.

you go out with some of the girls and get your mind off the raging emotions rolling through you and the millions of thoughts and memories that haven't died down since this morning. you feel confident you might not see him at all, but when you park the car outside the restaurant to wait for nate, your heart sinks.

outside, by himself, is no one else but erik.

you gather all your courage and take a deep breath as you step out of the car to approach him. there's no way he doesn't know about you and nate now so you decide the best thing to do is to clear the air. get some closure and finally move on.

before you can say anything, let alone an apology, erik starts speaking.

"nate told me. i had no idea. but i'm happy for you." although the words are supposed to be encouraging, erik's voice is flat and monotone giving away how he truly feels about the situation. the need to defend yourself arises, but so done a realization that you hadn't come to terms with until this very second.

"he treats me well-" you start before being abruptly cut off.

"okay good for you." erik says in a clipped tone. those familiar blue eyes that used to be full of adoration for you are now icy and cold.

"- but he isn't you."

erik is stunned for a moment, processing what you just admitted. that after everything, all the heartbreak and pain, you missed him. you still loved him even though you were with his friend. and knowing that nate could never compare gives erik a small dose of satisifaction.

"i still love you too. and miss you more than anything. but a lot has to happen if you want to give us another chance." erik states, a glimmer of hope in his gaze. and before you can respond, tell him that you want him back, that you would do anything to be his again, nate comes out onto the street with a beaming smile on his face.

"my two favorite people! ej, everyone is looking for you. and y/n, do you want to stay? it shouldn't be much longer."

just like that, the moment has passed. but you catch erik glancing back at you as a reminder of what just happened.

#asks #ask bre #my lovely mutuals #bre's 4 year tumblraversary!#erik johnson #erik johnson blurb #erik johnson blurbs #erik johnson fic #erik johnson fics #nhl fic #nhl fics #nhl imagines #nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon blurbs #nathan mackinnon fic

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twigg96 · 1 year

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Hi! I really love your metalocalypse headcanons (I'm literally ALWAYS starved for metalocalypse content). If you haven't already answered something along these lines, would it be alright to ask for headcanons about the band + Charles and Magnus trying to court a really shy S/O?

Hi Anon!! Omg thank you so much this is such a cute idea I love it ❤️❤️🥺🥺 yes I’ll definitely write some HCs for you. I hope you like them!!

Nathan is a big old Himbo who despite all attempts, can not read emotional cues to save his life. Despite what everyone says, he’s a big soft teddy bear on the inside. Now… that doesn’t mean he doesn’t look like a terrifying meathead on the outside to any strangers out there. Because… he does. When he first met his future partner at the time he was certain he had broken them. They had stared at him like a deer in the headlights, glancing between his intimidating facial expression and his bulky size. Nathan took their reaction to be a pure rejection and sulked on the couch eating chips for the rest of the party glaring or growling at them every time he caught them staring too long at him. It wasn’t until several days later when Skwisgaar came to tease him about the “cuties that ams havingks a little baby's crush” that he realized that they might have been staring for a totally different reason. But still, he mulled on the thought for a long time. Any time they crossed paths and they ran away or simply stared he felt like he repelled them not attracted them. It confused him to the end but also endlessly piqued his interest. He tried talking to them every day despite his anxiety that Skwisgaar was fucking with him, smiling at their tiny squeaks when he first started a conversation. He felt so prideful when he got them to open up and say a few words. Then eventually full sentences and conversations. He doesn’t always understand why they’re so shy. They’re amazing and perfect in his mind. It wasn’t long before he felt completely enamored, but he could never tell what they were thinking, which threw him for a loop. Going to his dad for advice, he realized that he just needed to trust his gut. On the next day when he saw his S/O, they took a walk together through the halls of Mordhaus. Nathan talked about the ocean and how brutal it was before stopping abruptly. “Do you like… want to go to the ocean… with me one day?”

Pickles could tell his partner was shy from the moment they met. He tried his hardest to accommodate them. And for the most part, he was successful. He helped them out of the stressful party they were in to slip away for a moment to help them take a breath. He didn’t talk to them much just introduced himself and made his presence feel safe. He knew how hard it was to trust people who didn’t feel that way. They stayed in the courtyard of Mordhaus simply existing. Pickles kept an eye on his future S/O, making sure they were comfortable in the cool fall air. He gave them his scarf drumming up a simple conversation that was easy to follow. He didn't make them respond, instead, he simply told them stories about the time he spent in Snakes and gave them a little air tutorial on the drums making them laugh and giggle at his exaggerated movements. After the party Pickles and his future partner kept in contact via text and social media. Once they felt comfortable enough his S/O even ventured to call him once they had gained the confidence to. However, Pickles couldn't stop himself from flirting with them despite the way they'd squeal and deny every compliment he gave them. "Ya know... I do love ya right?" He asked one day while toying with their hair. Watching their face turn bright red they sat in silence for a moment as they simply smiled back in response. "It's ok... you don't need to tell me it back er nothin' yet... I just need you to know."

Murderface had truthfully believed from the bottom of his heart that his future partner was playing a game with him. He believed that they were just "hard to get." So instead of doing the right thing and providing space for his S/O. He chased them RELENTLESSLY. It got so bad that he started Facebook stalking them. Messaging them on various accounts all in an effort to try and gain their attention while telling everyone. "Damn this person is Scheriously into me." It worked however to get his partner out of their shell over time as their messages stopped being "M: Hey bb wyu2?" to "M: Tell me more about (thing S/O is seriously passionate about). I know there had been a problem with something the last we talked." Eventually, his S/O agreed to meet him in person for a date. The problem... he had been using an alt with a photoshopped photo of himself with a 10-pack of abs. William debated on cancelling on his shy S/O but knew that would only shatter their trust in him more. So on the day of the date, he arrived, in a corset. His S/O nearly dropped their Taco Bell when they first saw him, squashing out the sides of his corset. Placing their food down on a table they had to stop themselves from peeing themselves laughing before pulling Murderface down for a kiss. “You’re perfect no matter what. I care about YOU. Ya big silly.”

Toki thought it was the funniest thing in the entire world that his crush was shy. He loved their pink blush and the way they clammed up when they got flustered. He met them at a meet and greet. But it was love at first sight for him. Writing his number onto a slip of paper he handed it to the hottie as they turned to leave winking cheekily and giggling as they squeaked and ran away. Weeks passed while Toki swooned over the "one who got away". Nathan simply ignored it altogether, eating his chips and turning the volume up higher on the television. Murderface tried to avoid Toki when he was all swoony, but he always got caught up in some pity party. Pickles would try to distract Toki for as long as possible before pawning him off on someone else. Normally this person was Skwisgaar who could handle him for much longer than the others. However, Charles had more than enough of Toki's behavior and invited Toki's crush over himself for "a short one-on-one interview with Toki." The guitarist was thrilled to see them again, inviting them to do fun things like build model planes and play video games. The day quickly turned into a date and Toki found himself with much more than just their number by the end of the night.

Skwisgaar is delicately tactful when he meets his future partner. He can tell they feel uncomfortable with his normal grand personality so, he simply tones it down. He's careful with his words, watching for any progress and cursing the world when his bandmates were too loud or did things that obviously scared his S/O back into their shell. It wasn't until the next they met that they had a moment alone. Skwisgaar again focused deeply on making his S/O feel comfortable in their environment and more importantly with him. Eventually Skwisgaar started bringing his S/O to events with him... as a guest of course. He simply knew they'd attend anyway so why not make sure they were comfortable from the start? At one gala in particular, the pair ducked outside for fresh air when the crowd started to be too much even for him. The music was beautifully drifting through the windows as they walked around the gardens, hand in hand. "Do you... want to dance?" His partner asked sweetly looking up at him in the moonlight, the swede had never seen a more gorgeous sight. Together they danced at the center of the garden, giving each other butterfly kisses and giggling as their lips touched gently.

Charles was extremely dense when his partner showed any interest in him at all. He had a lot going on... or at least that was his excuse. Friends of his S/O had to literally tell him straight to his face about their crush before he'd even acknowledge it. But he still refused to act until they made the first move. Which was like agony to them, but was important for Charles to determine whether he could truly trust them or not. But once they came forward and told him their true feelings, he was the most protective boyfriend anyone could ask for. He stood up for his partner in any situation and gave them a voice whenever they felt they had none. He loved them wholly and truly from day one.

Magnus doesn't do shy. When he finds his S/O staring at him at the supermarket one day he becomes extremely paranoid that someone was going to try and kill him again. So he waits outside the doors and ambushes them, scaring the living daylights out of them. This doesn't stop the staring problem however... as a matter of fact it made it worse. Magnus tried everything to make it stop. He tried threatening them. He tried physically pinning them to the wall and demanding they stop. He tried being "nice" in a scary way. All of which seemed to cause the staring to increase and become weird... Now they stared at him as if they wanted to fuck him. Which... he wouldn't mind if he didn't think they were a Dethklok Spy. One day Magnus snapped when he found his S/O creeping on him from around the corner of the ally way following him home. He pinned them to the wall and demanded why they were following him. Let me tell you he was not expecting "Because I want to be railed into submission." to be the answer they gave but by god it was damned good to hear.

#Thank you so much for the ask!#thank you anon #asks are always open #metalocaplyse #metalocalypse headcanon #imagine metalocalypse #dethklok #shy reader #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #william murderface #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #charles foster offdensen #magnus hammersmith

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spine-buster · 2 years

Text

That Which We Are, We Are | Nathan MacKinnon | Chapter 1

gif credit @/joeydaccord

A/N: I’m so happy that the prologue of this story got such a positive response in terms of notes! As always, thank you for liking and reblogging -- I love reading your reactions, especially your tags LOL. The more we learn about Sorcha, the more canon questions you can ask! Hope you enjoy Chapter 1!

Nate’s mom had made the cardinal sin: she accidentally let it slip that he was already back in town, breaking his cover. She told one friend, who told his other friends, and soon, his phone was blowing up like fireworks on the fourth of July. It was constantly buzzing and making sounds – so much so he had to turn it on silent. He waited one day longer before answering anybody. Then and only then did he confirm that he was in town and make tentative plans.

Things were still on his mind about the playoffs, and about how he’d come up short on his goal. He’d finally found the courage to tune into a few games, but when he did, he found himself turning off the TV after only five minutes. Clearly, he still wasn’t over it. Despite some time passing, it still stung. To see his peers still playing, working towards the ultimate goal…he didn’t like it. He wanted it to be him instead. He wasn’t scared to admit that. He wasn’t necessarily jealous of them, but he definitely resented the situation. It made the feeling of disappointment increase tenfold.

Plus, there was a new situation at hand too, even though it shouldn’t even be a situation. Ever since he wandered alone through the streets of downtown, he couldn’t stop thinking about the incident at the café and what an idiot he’d been. The girl was nice enough about it, but it stayed on his mind regardless. He was still sure he knew her from somewhere. The curly hair especially. Plus, her voice sounded too familiar for him to not know her from somewhere. But he digressed, and let it go…or at least tried to.

Until he thought of something.

His friends wanted to go out for lunch. And she was clearly a regular at that café.

What if he showed up again? And what if he remembered?

***

Nate had some friends since childhood; he had some friends he made in high school, which slightly overlapped with his junior buddies, since he was lucky enough to play for the Mooseheads; and he had some pro hockey buddies he’d see on and off, depending on where they were living or where they were going to be at any given point in time. Each group had a unique influence on him and how his personality developed. Each group helped him grow in some way.

This afternoon, he was meeting with his mix of high school friends and junior buddies – Alex Kehoe, one of his best friends from high school (and the reason he passed his math classes); Lucas Garcia, another one of his best friends from high school (and the reason he passed his science classes); and Noah Davis, a teammate from the Mooseheads who now worked as a real estate agent in Halifax. When he met them in the parking lot downtown that they’d agreed on, Nate noticed one more person walking with Lucas and Noah from behind Alex, who was rushing towards him. He recognized the extra almost immediately as Shane Johnson, Noah’s cousin. Nate remembered Shane – he remembered how Shane was basically his cousin’s shadow, following him everywhere and hanging on to him desperately. He’d show up at every Mooseheads home game and try to get in the locker room, name dropping that he was Noah’s cousin (as if that meant anything, or could get him anywhere). At school, he would brag about his connections and ‘in’ with all the popular hockey guys, raising his profile in the process. Some kids at school even thought he was part of the team, which he absolutely adored because it was his dream anyway. Since high school, he hadn’t really done much. Nathan hadn’t heard anything spectacular about him whenever he asked. Noah didn’t even particularly update Nate, even though Shane was sort of always around in the peripheral of their friendship. Nate had to admit to himself that he was kind of annoying, but knew he’d had to put up with him for at least lunch.

“Well well well, look who it is!” Alex called out from across the parking lot, his voice booming despite the hustle and bustle of the downtown core. “If it isn’t the man himself!”

Nate couldn’t help but smile at Alex deliberately not screaming his name out. Alex knew better. Alex had been with Nate one too many times as they were trying to eat but people kept approaching for autographs or selfies, leaving them unable to have a true conversation. Alex knew Nate valued privacy when he was out with his friends and family. “If it isn’t the duuuuude himself,” he said equally as loudly, extending his arms out so they could hug. “Good to see you, bro.”

“You get enough alone time?” he asked as they hugged, in a voice much quieter than before. Nate shrugged his shoulders, as if to say he didn’t know, because he really didn’t. “Your mom accidentally let it slip to Noah.”

“I know,” Nate nodded. “It’s alright. This’ll be good.”

“Sorry about Shane, too,” Alex said, looking back quickly to see how close the rest of the guys were. “We won’t really be able to catch up with him here. He wouldn’t let up about coming once he heard the news, and you know how Noah can’t say no. But I promise we’ll talk after. Alone.”

Nate nodded, appreciating Alex completely. There was a reason Alex Kehoe was his best friend, and this was it. “Yeah, we’re gonna have to do that – thanks.”

“If it isn’t Naaathan MacKinnon,” Shane yelled, raising his arms in the air. Alex and Nate gave each other a look. Nate didn’t understand why Shane was greeting him like a long-lost friend, since they were barely friends. “How ya doin’, buddy?”

Nate didn’t get a chance to answer him – and didn’t take it, either – because Lucas went in for a hug, as did Noah. Nate didn’t bother to reach into Shane. “Where we going for lunch?” Lucas asked, posing the question to everyone.

“What about—”

“I found this new place,” Nate interrupted Noah quickly, not letting anybody else get a word in edgewise. He didn’t want to hear any other suggestions. He knew where he wanted to go and wasn’t going to let his friends derail his plan. “Follow me.”

As the group walked through the streets of downtown Halifax, the group talked amongst themselves, with the guys hanging on Nate’s every word. There wasn’t any serious conversation – and there wouldn’t be, even at lunch, because of Shane’s presence – but because they hadn’t seen their friend in a while, the boys wanted to hear their friend. Nate, for his part, re-traced his steps from his wandering day until he found the café. The boys were slightly taken aback by his choice, but Nate was steadfast. They were probably expecting a gastropub or something, not a café in the artsy part of town.

As they were seated at a table in the café, Nate looked around – to the spot where he sat last time, and the spot where he saw the girl – to find her right where he left her, at the exact same table, in the exact same chair, with the exact same curly hair cascading down her back. Her back was towards the group, but Nate could tell it was her. It was her.

Holy fuck.

He tried not to stare too much, on account of not wanting to make it too obvious. He tried to engage in the conversation the rest of the guys were having, but his eyes kept wandering back to her. He’d answer Shane’s dumb questions, stuff his mouth with a bite of BLT, and glance over at her to make sure she didn’t get up to leave. He’d recount a story from the season, take a gulp of his lemon water, and look in her direction. When she got up and went to the washroom, he had half the mind to follow her, but he didn’t. Instead, he thought of ways to get her attention with his buddies around, making sure they didn’t embarrass him in the process. He’d already been embarrassed in front of her once before – and it was his own fault. At least he knew she came here often, so if he needed to wait until a third time, he could.

It seemed like that was going to be the case when everybody was finished their lunch and brought their bills. He’d have to come back a third time to get her attention. They got up and tucked in their chairs. Nate put on his baseball cap.

“Oh my God, Sorcha?” Shane’s voice boomed through the café.

To Nate’s complete and utter shock, the girl turned her head to look at them. Nate’s breath caught in his throat as he caught a good look at her face again. She was even prettier than he remembered from the last time at the café. She had more blush on this time, he thought, and more eyeliner. When she noticed who had called her name, her brows furrowed, a line appearing in between them for how much she was doing so. “Shane,” she acknowledged him, her voice not nearly as chipper or loud as Shane’s was.

Nate felt time stand still. Sorcha. Sorcha. Sorcha.

Sorcha Saint-Coeur.

Oh my fucking God, the girl was Sorcha Saint-Coeur.

Nathan was not expecting Sorcha Saint-Coeur. Sorcha had grown up on his street. They’d gone to the same elementary school together in Cole Harbour, and had been in the same class since kindergarten. They’d even moved on to the same middle school together, and the same high school. But while they grew up on the same street, and knew the same people, they’d never been friends. Sorcha had always been the nerd to Nate’s jock; the frizzy-haired, quiet, shy, studious art student as opposed to the blonde hair, blue-eyed, ambitious and serious hockey player Nate was. She was never at school events, never at parties hosted when parents were out of town, never at people’s lake houses on the weekends. She never went to any Mooseheads games. She was an outcast, sitting alone at lunch when her best friend, Victoria, didn’t have the same lunch period. Nobody ever asked her to join their table. Worse than anything, she was relentlessly bullied.

Most of the bullies had been Nate’s friends in high school.

They bullied her about everything. The first – and most awful, Nate thought – was her weight. She’d always been bigger than the other girls, and she was called every fat joke in the book. His friends even went so far as to whisper in each other’s ears if she walked by them or sat near them in class, saying things such as ‘whale’, ‘cow’, ‘butterball’, and ‘Sorcha the orca’ loud enough that she would hear. They bullied her about her hair, because it was dark and long and untameably frizzy when they were younger, unlike the straight blonde hair of many classmates. Then, of course, they made fun of her for having no friends besides Victoria, for being alone most of the time, for how quiet she was and how she wore no makeup, for caring about school and art and drawing more than she cared about hockey or parties or anything else. The boys were relentless in letting Sorcha know every single day how different she was.

Shane was one of the main ones.

Shane tormented her to no end. He constantly made fun of her for everything, and never let up. It was worse when the hockey guys were around, because he wanted to impress them. Nobody would defend her – not even Nate – and she’d just stay silent and take it all. Nate remembered how oftentimes she looked like she was on the verge of tears (because she probably was). Nate stayed silent through all the jokes, the name-calling, the ostracizing. He didn’t keep in touch with any of the other guys, but of course, Shane was with him now. While Alex and Lucas had better things to do in high school, Noah and Shane did not. He could only imagine what it felt like for Sorcha, seeing them again.

“God, you’re still around in Halifax?” Shane asked, his voice as shocked as anything.

“Am I not supposed to be?” she retorted.

“Hi Sorcha,” Alex said politely, garnering an equally polite nod of the head from her. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been fantastic.”

“How’s Aidan doing?”

“He’s doing great, thanks for asking,” she said. Aidan was her brother – five years older. “What are you doing in this part of town, anyway?”

“Having lunch with Nathan MacKinnon,” Shane intervened in the conversation again, moving out of the way and pointing to Nate like he was the prize pig at the rodeo.

“H—Hey Sorcha,” he stuttered out, waving awkwardly.

There was an unspoken decision on both their parts to act as if they hadn’t just seen each other days before; that Sorcha hadn’t lied through her teeth when she said she didn’t know him. “Hi Nate,” she said curtly.

“What are you doing down here?” Shane asked.

“I work down here,” there was venom in her voice. “And actually, I just checked the time, and my lunch break is almost over,” she said, getting up, shutting her iPad Pro, and collecting her things quickly. “So if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.”

The four men stayed silent as they watched her hurry out of the café, not bothering to take a single look back at them. Nate gulped. It was one of the most awkward encounters he’d ever been a part of – and that was saying something. This was significantly more awkward than the first time he met Sidney Crosby and didn’t stop doing high knees in a driveway.

“She works at the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia now,” Alex revealed to the group, breaking the tension. “Behind the scenes. Like a curator or something. My older sister still keeps in touch with Aidan.”

Shane snorted. “Looks like she’s still the size of the iceberg that sunk the Titanic.”

It was Nate’s turn to furrow his brows at Shane, looking him directly in the eye as he did so. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“What?!” Shane shrugged, seeing nothing wrong with his comment.

Nate shook his head. He felt…icky. He didn’t want to be around Shane anymore – not longer than he had to be. “I’m outta here.”

***

Okay, so Sorcha worked as a curator at the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia.

So where did Nate find himself the next day?

The Art Gallery of Nova Scotia.

He had no clue what the fuck he was doing, or what the fuck he was going to say, but just like yesterday, he had a loose plan that he’d concocted the night before and was executing this very moment. As he walked through the doors, he approached the main desk where patrons could purchase tickets. He made sure to take off his hat. He knew artsy people would find it uncouth of him, or anyone, to wear a baseball hat indoors.

“How may I help you?” the polite man at the desk smiled.

“Hi. I, uh, I’m looking for a Sorcha that works here. Sorcha Saint-Coeur. She’s a curator,” he said.

The man immediately picked up the phone and dialled a series of numbers. He smiled at Nate as he waited for someone to pick up. “Hi, Audrey? I have someone here for Sorcha Saint-Coeur. Can you please come to the front to escort him?...His name? Nathan MacKinnon.”

So he was found. Nate couldn’t help but smile as the man thanked Audrey and hung up the phone. “Thank you, sir.”

“She’ll be right out. And you’ll have to excuse me, but my grandson loves hockey, and loves you.”

“Oh, that’s no problem,” Nate said.

“How does Nathan MacKinnon get to know Sorcha Saint-Coeur, anyway?”

He bit his tongue. “High school,” he said. He technically wasn’t lying. Hell, he could have said elementary school and he wouldn’t be lying.

“Mr. MacKinnon?” a female voice asked, approaching him quickly. He could only assume this was Audrey. “Right this way, please.”

Nate gave one last nod of his head to the man before following Audrey through an ‘Employees Only’ door. They made small talk as she led him through a series of hallways and onto an elevator to go up a few floors. Once they reached their destination – the eighth floor, labelled ‘Curator Spaces’ on the elevator legend – Audrey looked over. “I’ll let Sorcha know you’re here and she’ll be with you shortly,” she informed him. “I’m sure you know she’s busy curating one of next major exhibits for the fall and winter season.”

Audrey motioned to a bench for Nate to sit on, and he did so. She gave him one last smile before walking down the hallway and leaving him waiting. He sat twiddling his thumbs for about ten minutes before he heard a door click open. When he looked towards it, he came face to face with Sorcha.

“Hey,” he greeted her.

She looked like she’d seen a ghost. “What are you doing here?” she asked, looking around the empty hallway to see if anyone else had seen him sitting there. “How—how do you even know that I work here?”

“Kehoe told me,” he said. “He mentioned how his sister still keeps in touch with Aidan, and I guess Aidan told her.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked again, as if she didn’t even care about his answer of how he knew she worked at the gallery.

“I—well—wa—want to go for lunch?” he offered.

“What?”

Alright, so Nate’s gameplan backfired on him. Horrendously. She wasn’t warm and she wasn’t happy to see him and she was upset that he’d shown up at her work. He needed to do damage control. “Listen, I—I’m sorry about yesterday. It was just supposed to be Alex, Lucas, and Noah with me, but Shane ended up tagging along. But that first day—I mean, you knew who I was. I knew who you were too, I just didn’t remember you. You didn’t have to lie to me and say we didn’t know each other from anywhere. I mean, we grew up on the same street.”

He saw her soften slightly, but he could tell she still had a massive wall up. “We’re not going for lunch. I have a very busy day. What are you—what was even your plan? Take me to lunch and do what?”

He didn’t know. He really didn’t know. He shrugged his shoulders. “I haven’t seen you since I left for Colorado. I don’t—I don’t know what you’ve been up to since then, and I guess I want to find out.”

Her face softened some more, though she crossed her arms in front of her. She was clearly wasn’t a fan of the idea, or his biggest fan in the slightest. She also didn’t know why he would want this information from her when he never bothered to get to know her since elementary school and never bothered to keep in touch with her. “I graduated third in our class and got accepted to the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design. After two years I transferred to Toronto, and I ended up living in Florence for a year. I graduated with my B.A in art history, worked in a few galleries in Toronto, then moved back to Halifax to be a curator here,” she explained.

Nate was impressed. It wasn’t every day that he met a curator for a gallery. He wasn’t exactly sure what they did, but it sounded important. “That’s really impressive. Congratulations, Sorcha.”

“Thanks,” her reply was curt, but heartfelt. She was accomplished, and happy with how her life worked out without Nathan MacKinnon, Shane Johnson, or anyone else from elementary or high school. “You don’t have to explain what you’ve been up to. I hear it on the news every night.”

Nate couldn’t help but chuckle, and he swore he saw Sorcha smirk, too. “Yeah, well…” he trailed off. “I don’t think I was meant for anything else.”

“I don’t think so either,” she agreed. “You were always going to be a hockey superstar.”

“I didn’t do much else.”

“No, you didn’t,” Sorcha cracked a smirk. She couldn’t help it. Hockey was Nate’s whole life, and had been since elementary school. Though they weren’t friends, she knew that about him (everybody knew that about him). His main focus in life was hockey and making the NHL – that was clear. “Anything else you’d like to know?” she asked.

“Why you pretended you didn’t know me the other day,” he blurted out without thinking.

Sorcha had to think of something fast because she really didn’t have any kind of excuse. “I was just shocked to see you in this part of town,” she decided on saying. “And besides, you asked me ‘Do I know you?’. And you don’t. You don’t know me.”

Nate and Sorcha stared at each other, letting those words linger in the air for a while. She was completely right, but he didn’t want to admit that. He’d never taken the time to, even as they grew up on the same street and went to the same schools. “Touché,” Nate said.

“Is there anything else you’d like to know?” she asked again.

Nate shook his head. It was clear that she wasn’t going to be forthcoming, that she had a wall up because of their past – and he didn’t blame her. He was an asshole as a teenager, and so were his friends – at some point, all teenage boys were assholes. He just wanted, and needed, to make it better. “It was nice seeing you,” he said in defeat.

“Thanks.”

“Have a great day at work. And curating, like, in general.”

“Thanks.”

***

Nate was alone at his house. And when he was alone at his house, he got ideas.

Google: art gallery of nova scotia Sorcha saint-coeur

Nate clicked. And clicked. And clicked. Then clicked again. Clicked on her LinkedIn page. Clicked on her profile on the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia website:

Sorcha Saint-Coeur grew up in Cole Harbour and attended the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design before transferring to the University of Toronto. She holds an honours Bachelor of Arts in art history, and has the distinction of having been invited to the Florence Academy of Fine Arts to study for a year. She has experience curating for some of the most distinguished galleries in Toronto, including MOCA Toronto, the McMichael Art Gallery, and the Art Gallery of Ontario.

Past exhibitions Saint-Coeur has curated include “Picasso: Painting the Blue Period”, “Tom Thomson: The Algonquin Paintings”, and “James Tissot: The Seasons”.

At the side of the page was an official portrait of her, definitely taken by the gallery. And right underneath that picture, he found exactly what he was looking for: her email. There was one thing Nate wasn’t: a quitter.

From: Nathan MacKinnon [[email protected]] To: Sorcha Saint-Coeur [[email protected]] Subject: (no subject)

hey. it’s Nate. i still think we should go to lunch tomorrow to catch up. what do u think?

He didn’t have to wait long for a reply. He chuckled to himself when it came through.

From: Sorcha Saint-Coeur [[email protected]] To: Nathan MacKinnon [[email protected]] Subject: RE: (no subject)

How the hell did you get my work email

From: Nathan MacKinnon [[email protected]] To: Sorcha Saint-Coeur [[email protected]] Subject: RE: RE: (no subject)

from the art gallery website. Your profile is on there. What do u say?

From: Sorcha Saint-Coeur [[email protected]] To: Nathan MacKinnon [[email protected]] Subject: RE: RE: RE: (no subject)

Nate, I appreciate the offer, but I basically told you everything there is to know. There’s not much else. Have fun being back home.

From: Nathan MacKinnon [[email protected]] To: Sorcha Saint-Coeur [[email protected]] Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: (no subject)

u told me the basics. there’s still a lot more to tell. what time ur lunch break? I will make reservations for the press gang at 12. have u been there? on me.

From: Sorcha Saint-Coeur [[email protected]] To: Nathan MacKinnon [[email protected]] Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: (no subject)

Are you insinuating I can’t afford lunch at The Press Gang?

From: Nathan MacKinnon [[email protected]] To: Sorcha Saint-Coeur [[email protected]] Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: (no subject)

NO!!! not at all! it’s one of the best in town and its down the street from you! we can go to the café if that makes u comfortable. and i promise i’ll be alone. No kehoe, no shane, no ambush. just us.

From: Sorcha Saint-Coeur [[email protected]] To: Nathan MacKinnon [[email protected]] Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: (no subject)

You never quit, do you?

From: Nathan MacKinnon [[email protected]] To: Sorcha Saint-Coeur [[email protected]] Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: (no subject)

don’t think i would have made the nhl if i did.

From: Sorcha Saint-Coeur [[email protected]] To: Nathan MacKinnon [[email protected]] Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: (no subject)

If you boast about being an NHL player even once during lunch I’m leaving.

From: Nathan MacKinnon [[email protected]] To: Sorcha Saint-Coeur [[email protected]] Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: (no subject)

I take that as a yes?

From: Sorcha Saint-Coeur [[email protected]] To: Nathan MacKinnon [[email protected]] Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: (no subject)

Well, if you’re buying.

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twinflamin · 2 years

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Cupid at work

Mason Mount x reader Fluff

Summary: Post London Derby against Spurs at the Bridge, Mason greets his friends and family at his box and finds an unlikely connection with you.

After the fight between the managers, coming down into the tunnel was hectic. Players shouting and threatening another fight. But Mason’s was in his own thoughts.

His brain was clouded, they nearly had the 3 points. Going round and round, what if he had done more, what if he could’ve defended more before spurs second goal? What if his chances were on target? What if he scored?

This season could be going better, and he was still a little gutted over missing out on another ballon o’dor nomination. His family and friends persistently telling him, he deserves to be on that list. It was all getting him down, as that could’ve only been controlled by his own success.

After a scolding in the changing room from the gaffer, and a cold shower to clean himself from the heat, he changed and made his way up to to the boxes to see his friends and family, he would rather be anywhere else than caught up in all the drama right now. They lost out on a win, end of story.

Mason headed upstairs, along to his box and made his way in.

Nathan and Carlotta were there to greet him, along with his family and few other mates the two had invited to the bridge.

“That was one hell of a game mate, you played really well” said Nathan, a smile on his honest face, proud of his friends work.

“I agree, you were brilliant. try and forget about all that drama down there” Carlotta comforted Mason.

“Yeah, Tuchel isn’t too happy, but, we knew it was gonna be a tough one. Just keep thinking how close we were to a win” Mason’s head was down, avoiding eye contact at his disappointment in his performance.

“It’s only the second week back mate, and anyways, you’ve got Leeds away next week” Nathan laughed. Mason had developed a bit of a pattern playing against Leeds, luck seemed to be on his side in grabbing a goal for the team.

The three joined the others in the box, enjoying the VIP benefits and getting the stress off of Mason’s mind before they would leave.

Mason was sat at one of the tables near the mini bar. Possibly against what his coaches think he deserved after the result, but he helped himself to a few drinks. He looked down sorrowful, at his third or forth bottle of beer, he couldn’t quite remember. But he couldn’t wait to just get home and go to bed after today’s events.

Carlotta approached his lone table, along side another woman as Carlotta was dragging her slightly towards him.

“Hey Mase, remember when I mentioned about my friend Y/N? I thought you would like to finally meet her so I brought her along”

He looked up to greet you, being polite, despite the dark cloud over his head. He didn’t want to be rude no matter what mood he was in. He was greeted with your eyes. It was like something switched, and the room became brighter.

Carlotta had brought you up in a few conversations to Mason, how you had always wanted to come to the bridge, and how you were always busy travelling and wanted to see more of London. He had never even seen a photo of you but, you did sound intriguing, mysterious.

His mouth hung open as he gazed across your face, your hair, your smile, as time stopped for a split second and the noise went quiet. For the first time that evening the guilt of the match had disappeared at just the sight of you.

You smiled softly at his gaze, and you reached out for a handshake, “Nice to finally meet you”

Still holding a strong stare and taking you all in, he slowly reaches to take your hand.

“Same”.

It was all he could let out in that moment, he, quite embarrassingly, had forgotten how to speak. He didn’t mean to be blunt, but the little love bug seemed to had caught his tongue.

Carlotta looked at Masons dopey stare on his face, and it clicked. “Erm” she laughed, “well you two can get to know each other, I’m going to get another drink”. And she quickly dashed off, most likely to buzz about to Nathan about how she might be the best new matchmaker in town.

You continued to stare at each other, simply in surprise at what had clicked, what spark was igniting between you two. Both of you could feel it, and it was burning up inside you. You realised you were awkwardly still holding hands, and quickly released, breaking the touch, placing your hands back by your side. Mason was back to his bottle, taking a quick sip hoping to feel some effect.

You let out a nervous laugh at his shyness, and moved the chair next to him join him at the lonely table. “You played so well, I bet it was difficult in this heat”.

Mason let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, happy you spoke first. “Yeah it was tough, just wanted that win though. So many times I could of scored, feels like I let them down”. He dropped his head again, his lip trembled at the end of his words. The overwhelming feeling of defeat that he never liked to feel again getting the best of him.

You saw this, his sadness was a tough sight for yourself. You had heard so much good about this man, so much strength, and his spirit. You felt like you had gotten to know his so well in the past 90 mins he played. You admired his passion.

You leaned forward where his shoulders slumped, getting down to his level and closer to him. You whispered, “Out of the whole team, I think you were the best, you really carried it today. I don’t even think we would’ve had two goals without you”.

He looked at you as he took in your kind words. Your smile was warm, soothing his pain. He smiled back, “you think so?”. You nodded, seeing his eyes light up a little at your words.

“Thanks, that means a lot. I won’t be telling the team that don’t worry” he whispered back. He secretly wished he was your favourite player out of the team, his own little cheerleader.

You giggled at him, “feel free too, but it didn’t come from me ok?”. You two were both giggling, you were very much strangers still, but you both felt an organic and natural ‘vibe’ that just seemed to be there. It felt comfortable, like home.

Mason felt this feeling and had an idea. With the gush of adrenaline just by being around you, he shoots his shot. “So, usually after a game, I have a few mates round mine, just to chill and stuff after the game. Do you wanna come?”.

Your eyebrows lifted at his request. It was very last minute having the time to join everyone at the match, and now he wanted you round his. It was a good thing you loved spontaneous plans.

He almost winced at his own words, thinking it was a little too bold. I mean, you had just met him and, sure you were friends with Carlotta but, you’ve probably got your own life, he thought. And why would you want to be spending your Sunday night round a guy she had just met?

Mason mumbled out, “I mean you’ve probably got better things to be doing, and you’ve probably had enough of football today so it’s fine if you don’t want-“

“I’d love to, that sounds nice Mason”

His name on your lips was bliss. He couldn’t tell whether his heart was falling, or if it was flying high. He had a bright toothy grin plastered on his face, definitely giving away his joy for your choice to take his invitation. Not his smoothest of moments.

“I’m happy to hear that Y/N” he sighed, and you sent that same glowing grin back.

Meanwhile, across the small room, Carlotta and Nathan observed your little moment.

“£20 he asks her out tonight” Nathan shot his bid to Carlotta.

“Not your boldest bet. You don’t know my girl Woody, £20 she asks him out” she shoots back.

The pair shook on it, watching they’re friends blossom this newly found puppy love before them. The bet would stay hidden from Mason and Y/N, and so would Carlotta’s plan to set you two up in the first place. I guess Cupid is among us.

#masonmount #mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #fanfic #fluff

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rindemption · 10 months

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Then vs Now

These aren't the first pictures I took of Nathan, I changed his appearance and deleted all of those. But these are one of his firsts after finally deciding I was happy with his look. No edits to the photo, no fancy tools. Just an npc swap using amm and that was it. Not even any kind of lighting (if that isn't obvious).

Nathan's gotten some minor cosmetic changes since, but nothing as drastic as his first. And I finally started using tools and editing my photos before posting!

But outside of the visual stuff, Nathan's changed in a lot of other ways since he first came into existence.

He's always existed in some form over the last several years of my life. He's had a few different names, and a few different backstories based on what game I was playing. But the core of him has always been there. When I first made him for cyberpunk, he was supposed to be a much more tragic character. Nothing went right for him up until the end of the game, and by then it was too late to get more than a bittersweet enjoyment out of his one victory in life.

But through him, through the cyberpunk fandom, I met some of the most wonderful people. I got to meet the love of my life, and he got to meet his. And he changed because of that, opened up and told me about himself, and bloomed into who he is today. I'm still learning about him, still figuring out where his life leads, now that he has a life to live and look forward to. He's changed so much in just a couple of years, and I know he still has so much growing to do. His life isn't tragic anymore, even if the start of his life is still sad. He's happier, and more energetic, and doesn't feel the need to form himself to other people's expectations. And I'm excited to learn what more he has to tell me about himself.

I still feel like I have a lot to learn when it comes to VP; how to use the tools to their full potential, how to make lighting look good, how to set up a background, how to edit it to get the colors and visuals just right. But I've already made more progress than I expected. Someday I'll be able to capture the visions I have in my head. So thank you everyone who's shown me support and encouragement, hopefully I can keep growing and learning.

#cyberpunk 2077 #about the oc: nathan #about: me #you know. i was just feeling like none of my recent stuff is all that good #putting them side by side to my old pictures kinda put me back on track #i have gotten better #it might not be what i want or what i hope for but there are improvements #also i can't begin to express how much happier Nathan is lately #how much he's grown and changed for the better

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lizzardthing · 6 months

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I love shipping these whorish little men as much as anyone but can we take a moment for- asexual Toki?

I rly like the headcanon that Toki is ace and I never see anyone talk about it. Even before he regresses, Toki doesn’t really get the function or fun of sex. He bangs groupies, sure, but he’s not nearly as into it as the rest of Dethklok. When he talks to them about wanting to fall in love, none of them understand what he’s talking about. He wants a life partner. He wants to go on dates and start a family. But the sex isn’t really part of the interest to him.

When he finally meets the girl that’s supposed to be meant for him, he finds her repulsive. But I don’t think it’s just because her personality sucks or because she’s not physically attractive- that’s certainly a big part of it, but also, I think Toki is freaked out about the idea of having to fuck this person whenever they want forever. That’s no better than banging random groupies.

Now, I don’t think Toki completely hates sex. He obviously physically enjoys it and he gets the point- it feels good and it’s non commital, you don’t have to think about it. Just blowing off steam. My idea of asexual Toki doesn’t revolve around the idea he never has sex again- I’m sure occasionally he feels the need to do so and does. It’s not like it’s hard for him to find people interested.

But I do like the idea of Toki eventually, long after AOTD and recovering somewhat from the trauma he’s dealt with, just. Not being interested in sex. That’s never been what’s important to him, and after a long phase of being age regressed and sex being completely off his mind, once he’s mostly back to his normal self, he just doesn’t go looking for it. He gets more into his model planes. He actually starts focusing on guitar. He likes his hobbies, his music, his family. He’s unconcerned with the rock star persona-he was never good at keeping up with it anyways- and he’s just focused on having fun. Feeling fulfilled.

Picture Skwisgaar goading him, talking about how much more pussy he gets than Toki, trying to get a ride out of him, and Toki just being like yknow not everyone WANTS to bang groupies all the time? Some of us have better stuff to do.

Murderface teasing him, calling him gay and shit. Spying on him since he hasn’t seen Toki with any ladies, sure he’s gonna catch him with a guy one day, and eventually realizing Toki just. Is happy entertaining himself. Watching TV and playing video games and coloring by himself in his room, totally content.

Toki going to Pickles and Nathan, asking for advice, thinking somethings wrong with him because he doesn’t wanna bang chicks, and them just being like. Dude no one cares. It literally doesn’t matter.

I really like the idea of Toki actually, really being completely fulfilled and happy by himself. He loves his brothers, his family, they mean everything to him. He doesn’t need external validation from some random ladies he’s never gonna see again. He’s just HAPPY.

#metalocalypse #mtl #toki wartooth #asexual headcanons

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shipcestuous · 6 months

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(submission)

Thought I leave these M/M incest book recommendations here.

Quillon’s Covert by Joseph Lance Tonlet & Louis Stevens

Martin is a guy’s guy, one who enjoys the simple things in life: baseball games with his son, family days, barbecues, and date nights with his lovely wife.Once a year for two weeks, Martin takes his son, Marty, to Quillon’s Covert, a rustic family cabin secluded in the beautiful California mountains. Since before those long days of learning to play ball, Marty has loved his dad, but as Marty matures, Martin starts to see something else settle in his son’s uncertain gaze. What’s there lingers a little more than it should, and it seems far more appraising than it once was.As Marty shows every sign of taking the lead, Martin is faced with the tough choices most parents never see: lose his son by being a father, or try to balance what’s best for their relationship by being something… more.But with another trip to Quillon’s Covert on the horizon, has the point of no return already begun?

Shame by Gianni X

He’s a famous football star used to getting what he wants. And what Eric wants is his father standing in the crowd at his games chanting his name. Not just because he’s Eric’s father but also his lover. It would be their own dirty little secret.

Eric grew up with a single-parent father who worked his ass off to give Eric the life he never had. Father and son were close until Eric did the unthinkable. Now ten years later, drunk on fame and used to getting his way, Eric has gone back to where it all started. One night. Money exchanged. Secrets revealed. Shame settled. Shame is a novella of a broken bond between a father and son and the repairs needed to bring them back together.

Let your Heart Decide By Lily G Blunt

New house, new job. A new start with his brother….Two out of three isn’t bad, right?Rhys returns to his hometown and must face the brother he’s been avoiding for two years. In his heart, Rhys still hopes to recapture the bond they once shared.Jake willingly offers him the hand of friendship, but Rhys is reluctant to confront their past, fearing it will only rip them apart again.When Rhys sees ghostly figures in the grounds of a local historic house, it leads him to investigate their shocking past—and to face his heart’s true desire.

His Brother’s Brat by T.M Chris

Simon hasn’t seen his nephew, Kael, in ten years, but when Kael needs a place to live and someone to take him in hand, Simon steps up. He’s determined to teach Kael how to be a responsible adult and an out gay man, but Kael’s looking for more hands-on lessons. He’s always worshipped his uncle. Maybe a little too much.

Never Mind the Genetics by Mel Thorn

Since breaking up with his high school girlfriend seventeen years ago, Kevin had no idea that he had left something precious behind with her. Now at age thirty-five, his success has brought him everything in life that he might need– all except companionship.Since his birth seventeen years ago, Andrew and his mother haven’t had a very peaceful relationship. Born into a family that couldn’t afford him, and haunted him with threats of violence, he hoped and wished for a better life– a life with the father he had never met.After years of bickering and bitterness, Andrew’s mother takes him not only to meet, but live with his long, lost parent. What Andrew expects is a cold shoulder, but what he gets instead is a warm welcome.Kevin’s gentle demeanor and sweet words are all it takes for Andrew to understand the true meaning of what it is to be loved, but something else– something bright and unexpected– blossoms from their growing friendship: a very different kind of love.

Brother by Marina Vivancos

Nathan had always loved his twin brother. How could he not? They had been inseparable since before birth. They’d shaped each other. Were each other’s homes.But even love, Nathan knew, could go too far. Too deep. So he had tried to keep his distance—had gone to a different college, tried to make a life without his brother.Now that they’re both back home for summer, though, Nathan doesn’t know how to escape the way he feels…or the way his brother might feel in return.

Sinfully Mine by Nicky James

Four years ago, mistakes were made, lines were crossed, rules were broken.It was wrong, and it never should have happened.But, the past refuses to stay buried, wrongs start feeling right, and lines begin to blur.Sometimes, the heart wants what the heart wants, and nothing will stand in its way.Consequences be damned. Rules be damned.Sometimes, secrets are sinfully delicious.

Blood Bound by Odessa Hywell

Marcus Malnar—head asshole of the Malnar Family—has spent a lifetime stepping over the bloody remains of his enemies. Fulfilling his purpose is the only thing that matters; nothing can stand between him and his goals. Except his nephew.Despite what everyone says, Holden Malnar isn’t spoiled. If you ask him. He’s a pint-sized bundle of insanity with a pain kink, barely held together by a straitjacket, and he owes everything to his uncle. There’s no limit to what he’s willing to do for the man. No. Limit.Loyalty means everything. Betrayal is a bitter pill to swallow. When Marcus and Holden have to rely on one another to weed out the traitor attempting to destroy their Family, there is no fighting the inevitable.

My Brother’s Love by Chara Croft

I’ve been good. I’ve stayed away. But now I have no choice but to go back home… and God help me, once I do, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make myself walk away from him again.JONAH: From the moment my parents first laid my baby brother in my arms, I was smitten. Caleb and I were inseparable all the way up until I left for college, and for the first couple of years I was away, I lived for the breaks when I could go home and see him again. But last year, everything changed. We got too close, and it was all my fault.I’ve always taken care of him, protected him, but now the only way I know how to do that is to stay away… because the one I have to protect him from is myself.I tried to be good. I always followed his lead. But last year, I got too needy. I got greedy. I asked for too much… and it pushed him away.CALEB: When my parents tell me they don’t trust me to stay home alone for the holidays, I’m not sure what they think I’ll get up to, but I’m not that surprised. After all, it’s not like they really know me. A point they only prove when they tell me that my big brother is finally coming home and that he’ll be in charge, and they say it sternly, like they actually think I might argue.They don’t realize that it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Both to see Jonah again, and yes–God yes–to have him be in charge. I’ll be so good this time. I promise. Because I don’t think I can stand it if he leaves me again.

#yay i love being able to add to the canon masterlists #you've singlehandedly doubled m/m book recs #asks #anonymous #submission #list #list: canon #r: fs #r: brothers #r: nu #tw: incest #list: books #list: fs #list: brothers #list: un #new canon #first post #noiv #nr

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