#maybe i'll visit over the summer. who knows

[realpokemon]

Sending you 1 pokedollar (Come to sinnoh)

tempting.

#maybe i'll visit over the summer. who knows #pokemon #unreality #pkmn irl #bart is so uncultured. he needs to see the sights

[wlntrsldler]

how to disappear | luke castellan

warnings: betrayal, fluff, mean!luke for like five lines, extremely long, not canon, drug use and language, probably got some things wrong but it's for the plot; i sobbed writing this. (this might be my favorite piece i've ever written)

part 2: shades of cool

pairing: aphrodite!reader x luke

description: based on how to disappear by lana del rey

i. all of the guys tell me lies, but you don't. just crack another beer and pretend that you're still here.

"hey, angel," a voice startled you out of your thoughts. your feet were dangling over the pier as you stared out into the lake. you twisted your head to see luke approaching. a soft smile was on his face. "been looking for you everywhere."

"needed a breather," you said, scooting over so he could join you. "sometimes i forget how overwhelming being back here is."

he rolled his cargo pants up to his knees, letting the cool water touch his bare skin. "i get it. sometimes i wish i could take a break."

"you can, you know," you nudged his shoulder, "you're old enough to leave camp during the year. nobody would fault you for wanting to go away for a while."

he dug into his front pocket, pulling out a messily rolled joint and the pink lighter you gave him last summer. the heart you drew on the plastic with sharpie was starting to fade. he placed the joint between your eager lips and lit the end. he tried to ignore the sparks that shot up his arm when your fingertips brushed against his.

luke shrugged, "i know, but then who would take care of the kids? mr. d isn't really the model citizen."

you quirked an eyebrow, passing him the joint, "and you are?"

"better than mr. d," he let out a chuckle before taking a drag. luke closed his eyes as the smoke escaped his lips. he could taste your lipgloss. "maybe when you get your own place, i'll take some time off and visit you."

"i'm off to college soon," you said. "going to california. i got a scholarship."

"of course you did," he grinned. the weed didn't take effect yet. usually, when you smoked with luke, his brown eyes are hazed over by the effects, but while he was speaking, his eyes twinkled in pride. "didn't doubt it for a second."

"you'd leave camp and visit california for me?"

luke had a knowing smile on his face now, as if you were ridiculous for even asking that question. "'course. only problem would be that i'm broke as shit right now. being camp counselor doesn't really pay the big bucks, y'know."

you hummed. it was weird really, how camp was just a fraction of your life. your dad made sure that you could have a semi-normal life, or at least as normal as a half-blood's life could be, but not all demi-gods had the luxury, luke included. his dad made sure of it.

at first, luke despised you for it. why was it fair that you were your mom's favorite child while his dad barely cared enough to make sure he survived his failed quest? if aphrodite was his godly parent, he was sure that he wouldn't have this ugly scar on his face to remind him that he was nothing but a failure. she would stitch him up and make sure that he was okay.

this is not to say that luke liked any of the gods; he just preferred aphrodite above all of them. she gave you to the world, after all.

"what else is new?" he prodded, passing you the joint again after his third drag. "anything else exciting happen in your life since last summer?"

"nothing much," you coughed slightly. you didn't smoke unless you were at camp with luke. "just the usual senior year things, i guess. graduation, prom, you know."

"no, i don't know, actually," he laughed, "well, i know the idea of it. did you decorate your graduation cap? did your senior year live up to your expectations? did you have a date to prom?"

"yes, yes, and no." you pretended not to notice how luke's shoulders relaxed at your answer. "i did decorate my grad cap. my dad has it framed with my diploma. the design was my college's logo. i didn't have a date to prom because i didn't really like anyone at school. i would rather take a date i actually enjoyed the company of."

"that's fair," luke said. he took another hit from the joint. you watched the smoke evaporate into the air, the smell of weed surely sticking to your clothes. "tell me about your senior year."

"it was fun," you said, longing on your face. "it's weird to think that i'm kind of on my own now. after camp, i'll be shipped off across the country to take classes for some bullshit degree that i probably won't need because i won't make it long enough to see the workforce."

luke chuckled at that. it was morbid, sure, but he would be lying if he said that that reality wouldn't be a possibility. he didn't like to think about it much, the idea of you dying, but the life of a demi-god was unpredictable. he's surprised he even made it to eighteen.

you continued, "but i got to be a kid and i'm thankful for that. i just can't stop thinking about how this is my last summer here. i'm eighteen now. i've aged out."

"you can come back, you know," luke said. these summers with you were the only thing he looked forward to each year ever since you first arrived. "i'm still here."

"that's because if you step a toe out of this camp, they'll find you," you said, although you knew luke knew this already. he was powerful. he would attract monsters left and right and he'd be putting himself in jeopardy if he left. your suggestions for him to visit you were more wishful thinking than anything. in those moments, you let yourself pretend that you and luke were normal, that nobody would be trying to kill you if you tried to watch a movie at a theater or something.

"fair," he offered you the last hit, but you shook your head. you already felt your head spinning. "beth wants to go to college, too."

"does she?"

"yeah," he put out the joint on the wooden pier. neither of you spoke as the flame was extinguished with a sizzling sound. "told her to talk to you. you know more about it than i do."

"i'd love to talk to her. i think she'd do great in college."

"she would," he smiled, sadly. his eyebrows furrowed in thought. his mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to find the right way to frame his words. you sat in silence patiently. he gulped, "i feel like everyone is moving on without me."

luke propped his elbows on his knees. he looked across the lake, watching the sunset turn into a pink horizon. he couldn't look at you while he spoke. "don't get me wrong, i'm so proud of you for leaving this place. and i'll be proud of annabeth when her time comes, but i think i just hate the fact that at the end of it all, i'll be alone. everyone in my life has a life outside of this, but i don't. this is it for me. i don't know what it is about this place, about this life, that keeps me stuck here, but i am."

you weren't stupid enough to correct him. you both knew the gods had a plan for luke. it was something bigger than the both of you, though neither of you truly knew what it was; but it was always this looming dark cloud above him, a second shoe waiting to drop. luke tried to ignore the feeling most days, but sometimes, he couldn't help but feel himself get pulled into the darkness; like in these moments, when reality hits him a little harder. you probably won't be back after this summer.

"well," you placed a hand over his own. he flipped his hand over to hold yours properly. he still wasn't looking at you. "let's just make the most out of this summer, yeah? think about everything else when we get there."

he squeezed your hand, "yeah."

ii. met me down at the training yard, cuts on his face cause he fought too hard.

"castellan."

luke winced, not because of the pain of the open cuts on his face, but because of the tone of your voice. that voice meant that he was in trouble.

he mustered up the courage to smile weakly at you, trying to ignore the droplets of blood that spilled from his open wound. "hey, angel."

"don't angel me," you hissed, marching to him. you grabbed his face gently, inspecting the damage. "what were you thinking?"

"i was thinking the kid was a bitch."

"castellan."

he cringed, "sorry."

"what happened?"

"i haven't been getting much sleep," luke whispered, "nightmares are back."

you sighed, picking up a cotton ball soaked in alcohol. the apollo kid who was tending to luke earlier was smart enough to leave the room when you walked in. you muttered half-hearted apologies as he hissed in pain. "i'm sorry to hear that, but that's not the answer i was looking for."

"he was just talking shit," luke said through gritted teeth. whatever the ares kid was saying must've been really bad because you could feel luke's anger rising again. you rubbed his back slowly until he calmed down. "don't wanna talk about it."

"okay," you resigned, finally wiping away the final remnants of blood off his face. you stared at him; even with an open lip, red bruises, and flecks of blood on his face, luke was still beautiful. he plopped his forehead against your stomach, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer.

this was common with luke. he acted all big and bad around all the other campers, but in your presence, he turned into this; always looking for comfort, always touching you somehow, like he was finally allowed to breathe. you cradled the back of his neck as he let out shallow breaths, leaving feather-light kisses on his crown when you thought he wouldn't notice them. he always felt them, but he never let you know that he did. he was afraid you'd stop doing it if you found out.

"how bad are they?"

"bad," he sighed, eyes closing. he tugged on you to bring you even closer, though you didn't know how that was possible at this point. "haven't slept in days."

"why didn't you come find me?"

"your sisters don't like it when i interrupt their beauty sleep."

"why didn't you tell me sooner? i could've stayed in the hermes cabin."

"it's gross in there," he laughed. "you deserve to sleep on your soft bed in a cabin that smells like fucking roses, not on my cardboard thin cot in a room that smells like sweaty socks."

you lifted his head up to look at you, "yeah, it's pretty bad in there."

luke snorted, finally letting you go, but a hand stayed connected to your hip. he played with the loose thread on the hem of your shirt. "i still won, by the way."

you cocked your head, "huh?"

"the fight," luke's cocky smirk was back on his face. "you should see the other kid. if i'd been well-rested, he wouldn't have been able to land a blow."

you smacked his shoulder, laughing as you fell onto the bed beside him, "shut up, castellan."

"there it is," he mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he was so close to you.

"what?"

"castellan," he mimicked your voice, but there was no mockery there. he said it like he treasured it, like he was trying to memorize the way you spoke. "you're not mad at me anymore."

it was hard to stay mad at luke. the longest you'd gotten mad at him was when he didn't choose you for his quest. he stood outside the aphrodite cabin the entire day before he was set to leave, begging for you to let him explain. you were too stubborn, too hard-headed, to listen to him. when you were sure that he was gone, you finally left the aphrodite cabin to find a letter from him tucked away under the welcome mat.

you kept the letter, but you never opened it. it wasn't until he returned from his quest, on the brink of death, that you opened it. you were sitting beside his bed, eyebags darker than ever that even your mother couldn't salvage you. your eyes were stained red from crying so much.

in his letter, he explained how he didn't want to put you in danger, how he would never forgive himself if something bad happened to you because of him. your insecurities just got the better of you. you always feared that people saw you as shallow, like you didn't actually have the skills to fend for yourself. many people had misconceptions about the aphrodite kids, but not luke. luke knew that you were incredible. you just didn't resort to violence as quickly as he did.

you felt stupid then, even now, you regret how you treated him before his quest. you hated yourself for how you acted. he never gave you a reason to doubt him, to not trust him; you should've known that he had his reasons. you hated yourself for even questioning him for a second.

luke pulled you into his chest, allowing you to cuddle into his neck. the beads of his camp necklace rested beside your temple. you reached over to play with them, letting the beads thump against his collarbone when you let go. you felt luke twirling strands of your hair around his finger, gently undoing the knots that formed at the ends of your hair because of his antics. you lay there in silence, just enjoying the presence of one another. you felt luke's breathing even out, a sign that he was drifting off.

luke's words from the pier bounced in your head then. did he think that you'd forget about him after you left camp? as if you'd forget about this, about him. a life without luke castellan became unimaginable when you met him when you were fifteen. there was no version of your life that didn't have luke in it.

it was foolish to think that way, you knew that. it was stupid to let someone have a hold on you like this, demi-god or not. even your friends from home warned you about being so attached to luke, though in the version of events you told them, the stakes were much lower. to them, he was just a boy you see at summer camp a few months out of the year; he was just another hometown boy that they urged you to forget when you moved away to college so you could live your life unrestricted.

but luke wasn't just that to you and you knew you weren't just that to him either. there was something between the two of you that was hard to explain, but didn't need an explanation at the same time. even your mom noticed it. she let you know once to tell luke to stop praying to her to give you a sign whenever he missed you.

"i can't keep making flowers bloom whenever he misses you," she wrote, "it wouldn't make much sense for flowers to bloom in the winter, my child, or for flowers to bloom every second of the day."

sometimes, though, on particularly hard days when you'd miss luke, your mom made exceptions. you'd find bunches of hibiscus growing within the cracks of the sidewalk of new york city on your way home from school.

you knew luke was thinking about you then. just the thought of it made your day better.

iii. i know he's in over his head, but i love that man, like nobody can. he moves mountains and pounds them to ground again.

luke didn't know what you'd say if you found out. well, he did know, but he deluded himself into thinking that you'd listen to his reasons, that you'd actually understand why he did what he had to do. maybe you'd even join him.

percy had left camp with annabeth and grover for his quest yesterday. the air at camp felt different since percy was revealed to be a forbidden child. luke, as much as he tried to keep his resentment for the gods at bay because percy was hard to dislike, the poor kid just wanted to save his mom, felt his blood boil when poseidon claimed percy.

he hated the gods, this wasn't new, but luke struggled to understand how he was supposed to feel. he saw so much of himself in percy. he thought of his mother; her hugs that he hadn't felt since he was nine, the taste of her burnt cookies that he hated at the time, but now he just wished he could taste the burnt crisps on his tongue one last time. he even missed her frantic mumbling in the middle of the night.

luke saw a version of himself in percy, the version that had a chance at happiness. luke hated it.

it was too late, anyway. the plan was already in motion. his allegiance to kronos was set. kronos visited him in his dreams often. luke stopped calling them nightmares because nightmares are only nightmares if they happen once in a while. what made them bad dreams was when they were compared to good ones. he didn't have those anymore.

luke hadn't slept much since he stole the bolt. it was easier to think about you, about the happy times, when he was awake. he smoked more now. it helped sometimes. he would pretend your lipgloss was still on the tip of the joint and that you were beside him on the pier, trying to get away from all the noise of camp.

as he walked toward the hermes cabin, smiling cordially at the younger campers who beamed at him, he saw the corner of a pink bag against his bed. his face dropped. luke stopped in his tracks, clutching the beads of his necklace.

you weren't facing the door. your back was turned while you folded the sheets on his bed. he saw you spray perfume on his blankets. he could almost smell the sweet fragrance from where he stood. it took all his might not to run to you and hold you in his arms. it's been months since he last saw you, since last summer. luke's hands fell to his sides before he twisted his body to turn the other way.

he went to the one place that gave him comfort. with his cargo pants rolled up to his knees, he watched the sun fade into the dark sky. there was no pretty sunset tonight. luke didn't think too much of omens, but he figured that was a bad sign. and when your soft footsteps thumped against the boards of the pier, he was certain that it was.

"you damn near running away from me when you saw me was not the reaction i was hoping for."

luke closed his eyes and took a deep breath. out of habit, he moved a bit to let you take your usual spot beside him. when he opened his eyes, he was met with the face he'd thought about for months. a kind smile adorned your lips. you looked different. your skin was a deeper shade, no doubt due to the california sun; your lips were pink and torn apart, like you'd been chewing on them; but your smile was the same.

"what are you doing here?"

"sorry i was late," you said, sheepishly. you played with the small braid in your hair, "i had to move out of my dorm so i had to take a later flight."

"i thought you weren't coming back," luke replied.

"heard there's a war coming," your voice sounded small. luke knew why. he'd listened to you talk about the dreams you had for yourself for hours over the past summers. the idea of an impending war meant that those dreams would take the backseat and you'd have to fight before any of them could come true. "is it true?"

"percy, a forbidden kid, poseidon's, is trying to make sure it doesn't happen."

"do you trust him?"

luke felt his heart crumble in his chest. how cruel is he to keep you in the dark like this? when the only thing you needed to feel okay was to hear that he trusted the kid meant to stop the war?

luke's voice was hoarse, "yeah, i do. beth does too."

"okay," you placed a hand on his thigh. luke stiffened at your touch. you pulled away, embarrassed. "sorry."

"don't apologize," he placed his hand next to yours. he could feel the warmth of your skin. "i've just been on edge."

"it's just me, luke."

he didn't know how to tell you that that's exactly why he was on edge. it was you. the girl he'd been in love with since he was fifteen. the girl he told everything to. the girl who knew him so well that if you were to touch him for longer than a second, you'd know everything.

this summer, for the first time since he met you, he was glad you didn't show up to camp. he knew that the minute you were in front of him, he'd tell you everything and there was a chance you'd want nothing to do with him after it. that was something luke couldn't handle. but now you're here, looking at him like this like his actions just hurt you.

"'m sorry, angel."

"you're acting different, luke."

"'m sorry."

"i don't need an apology," you said. "i want to know why."

luke rubbed his face with his hands, "i don't know, okay?"

"you're lying to me," you were frowning now. luke was angry. he wasn't angry at you, he was angry at the whole situation, but it didn't matter. he was taking it out on you.

"gods, angel, can you just-- not right now," he groaned. you got a good look at him. his eyes were tired, shoulders slumped like he'd been carrying a weight on his shoulders with no reprieve. "i don't really feel like talking."

"you don't have to be mean about it."

he didn't feel like himself anymore. he would never talk to you like this, but there was something in him that made him snap. luke scoffed, "i'm not being mean, you're just being so pushy right now."

you blinked, pulling your hand away from his. shivers ran down your spine, "luke, what the fuck?"

"what?" he stood up. you followed suit. under the moonlight, you saw how dull his brown eyes were. they no longer carried the same glow when he looked at you. luke's eyebrows were furrowed, eyes narrowed, "i just can't handle this right now, okay? can you just drop it?"

"i'm just trying to talk to you!" you raised your voice, disbelief on your features. you walked towards him. holding his face in your hands. he was crying. you wiped away his tears. "i just missed you, okay? i just wanna talk to you because i haven't gotten to in months and i'm miserable."

he let out a shaky breath, your touch grounding him. he felt himself coming back to him. he nuzzled his cheek in your palm, kissing the flesh there as he mumbled apologies into the night.

"i missed you so much," a sob escaped your lips. luke didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you, continuing his train of apologies into your ear. you continued, "i-i thought that you'd be happy to see me because i've been counting down the days until i saw you again and i just thought that even though the world was falling apart, we'd be the same. it's always been us, you know?"

"i know."

"and then you avoid me and run away from me and i just needed to see you, luke. i needed to talk to you."

"i missed you, too," he confessed. "so much, you have no idea."

"you have a funny way of showing it," you joked through your tears.

luke laughed. it shocked him. it was like he had forgotten how to. he hiccuped, removing one hand from around you to rub the tears away from his eyes, "come on."

selfishly, he ignored the pit in his stomach. he allowed himself just one more day to have you like this. as he lay on his bed, he held you close to him. he was overwhelmed with how much you filled his senses; the smell of your perfume, the feeling of your lips ghosting on his chest as you told him nonsense stories from college, the sound of your quiet giggles when he made some stupid joke, the look on your face in the dark, staring at him.

an unfamiliar feeling took over his body, rest, he realized it was, a while into lying in the darkness with you.

"i love you, you know that, right?"

luke didn't trust his voice anymore. he pulled you closer, hoping that that was enough for now.

iv. think about those years as i whisper in your ear. i'm always going to be right here.

"i love you."

you turned your head at the sound of luke's voice. camp was in disarray. percy was badly hurt and annabeth was frantic, sobbing about how luke was behind it all. you ran away after hearing it.

you didn't want to believe it, but it was annabeth. she wouldn't say that about luke unless it was true. you knew it killed her just the same to accept it.

"what are you doing here, castellan?"

it felt like a dagger was plunged into luke's heart. he'd heard his name leave your lips in different ways over the years; jokingly, angrily, but never like this. disappointment.

"i couldn't leave without telling you," luke licked his lips, keeping his distance. he was pressing his shirt on the spot percy broke skin. he looked down at his feet, "couldn't leave without letting you know that i love you."

"why did you do it?"

"i don't know."

"okay," you walked towards him. "when did you get so comfortable with lying to me?"

"angel," he sounded broken. "please, don't do this."

"you were wrong, by the way," you said. "you're not stuck here anymore, but i don't think the place you'll end up in is any better than this."

luke was silent.

"go, luke," you whispered. "don't make it any worse than it already is."

he nodded. this was it. you watched as he disappeared into the dark.

you were too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice it then; your mind was plagued with worry, but in the gaps of the wooden pier, a single hibiscus flower bloomed under your feet.

#luke castellan #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fanfic #pjo tv show #pjo fanfic #pjo spoilers #pjo series #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic #frances song fics #frances writes #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n

[norrisleclercf1]

Together again

Rating: PG

Warnings: Slight Angst, Fluff,

Words: 3.0K

Requested: Yes/No

Request: hi, so I was scrolling through tiktok and I came across this video that McLaren posted and it's the sweetest thing ever. I saw it and it reminded me of you. here's the link: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM2qVvpdT/

I thought that maybe you can use it for the "Our Boy" series, like Elijah running to hug Lando

Synopsis: You'd given birth to your beautiful baby girl Cécile, and now the boys schedules for races as picked up. Elijah really misses them, so when you plan a surprise with the help of the grid, you knew it was worth it

Timeline: Elijah is about 4, Cécile is 3 months old

Our Boy Masterlist / Our Boy / The Hunt for Fruit / Hey Dad

"Just…..keep sending us pictures," Lando begs, holding his phone as he waits to board another flight with Charles. "Of course I will, baby; Elijah and Cécile miss Daddy and Papa a lot." You smile sadly.

"Yeah, what about Mommy?" Lando asks, pulling that sad smile into a happy one as you shake your head at his childish behavior. "Yes, I miss you too." Charles comes up, sees you on the screen snatches the phone.

"Hey!" Lando moves to grab his phone, but Charles smacks his hand as he smiles at you, his hat hiding most of his face. "Are you doing okay? Getting sleep? Eating?" Charles was worried about leaving you with a now 3-month-old and a 4-year-old.

Charles and Lando were very hands-on with the kids, and now being gone for almost a month because of their wild schedule, they just wanted to come home and hug their children.

"Yes, Charles, your mother, and Lorenzo are coming over every other day. They are helping around a lot. Also, tell Lando that his grandparents just finished their visit, and they want the kids there one summer when they're older." Lando's head pops in, smiling brightly.

A woman's voice announces their flight is boarding, letting them know they must head to Hungary. "Go before you miss your flight." Smiling at the camera, the boys give their love and hang up.

Sighing, you put the phone down, looking at Carlos, who is currently playing with Elijah. "They have no idea you're here." You announce. The Spaniard chuckles, having told his teammate and best friend that he would fly out later than them.

A family emergency is the excuse they gave as to why he wouldn't be flying with them. "Good, they haven't been themselves. Being away from the kids, it's hard on them." Making a face at Elijah, who giggles, throwing himself into Carlos.

Through the baby monitor, you hear a slight whimper; Cécile, she's awake. "I'll be right back." Bending down, you kiss the top of Elijah's head, who giggles.

Smiling, you turn, heading down to the nursery. Opening the door, you coo, seeing your little girl awake and wiggling around. "Good morning, my little starfish. Did you sleep well?" Cécile squeals, showing off a gummy smile as she shakes her hands.

Laughing, you pick her up; she woke due to being hungry. Grabbing a soft mini blanket, you cover yourself up. She latches with ease, walking back to the main living room you see Elijah watching an interview.

"It's Papa!" Elijah squeals, seeing Charles come into the frame. Carlos ruffles the boy's hair, packing bottles, diapers, and everything you'll need to travel. "Thank you for doing this." Adjusting Cécile, who kicks her little foot out, at the movement.

"You're welcome; it'll get them to stop whining and showing us every photo you take. Better to have the real thing than a phone shoved in our faces. "They've never been away from us this long. Now that Cécile is here, they don't like being gone this time." Elijah laughs, watching the interview and smiling brightly.

"I miss you, Papa." Carlos and you stop what you're doing hearing the statement. "Yeah, don't tell Charles that." You sigh. Charles would never leave again if he heard Elijah talking to the TV, saying he was missing him.

"Elijah, we're going to see Papa and Daddy." Pulling your daughter off, you get yourself adjusted and start to burp her. "Really?" Elijah gasps, whipping around, his face bright and filled with love.

"Yes, that's why I'm here. Me, Uncle Max, Uncle Oscar, Uncle Pear, and Uncle Danny have been helping your Mama surprise Daddy and Papa." You swear Elijah starts to vibrate. He's so happy. "He's going to combust." You giggle, seeing how your son's reaction.

"Now, Elijah." Carlos bends down to his height, stopping the boy's bouncing. "I've packed your bag; it's in your bedroom. Go grab it for us, and then we can leave." Elijah nods, bolting off, still hearing his happy squeals.

"This will be a long flight, won't it?" You don't answer Carlos's question; he would find out for himself.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Carlos was smart enough to tire out Elijah on the flight, so the boy was asleep in his arms. You were going through backways so no fans would know you and your children were here.

It was hard not to answer Lando's and Charles's texts, calls, facetime, and everything. You even turned off your location, something you never do. It's the only way you'd be able to surprise your partners.

Being away is hard, waking to Lando's kisses and the smell of Charles cooking breakfast, Cécile, and Elijah already up and ready for the day. A month was too long for them not to be home, and it worried you that Elijah would think they were leaving too.

Carlos was quick to get you up and into your hotel room. Laying Elijah down, Carlos makes sure he's comfortable before helping you with Cécile, setting up her travel bassinet.

Clicking in the last piece, a knock comes on the door; you stare at each other, confused about who it could be. "Did you order room service?" Voice a whisper, Carlos shakes his head no.

Quiet steps, he looks into the peephole and sighs. "It's Pierre." Carlos's face contorted to annoyance, the two still fighting over something no one knew the real reason for. "Let him in." You laugh, the Ferrari driver huffs and opens the door.

"Where's my goddaughter?" Pierre giggles, dancing on his toes. Cécile gurgles, hearing a familiar voice; hearing her, Pierre goes straight to her, scooping her little body into his arms. "Hello, gorgeous." Pierre coos, making sure her head is supported.

Elijah whines, squirming around before still mouth wide open and cheeks puffy. "Cécile, you look just like your Papa." Pierre praises, hearing this Carlos rolls his eyes, scuffing. "She is Lando, look at her eyes," Carlos argues.

This was the source of the argument. Carlos swears up and down that Cécile is Lando's because of her eyes, but Pierre says she's Charles because of her hair and nose.

"Boys, she's both of theirs. Stop." You chastised their fighting would wake Elijah, and you didn't want to deal with a cranky toddler who would wish for his fathers. "If you think she's Lando's, you're delusional," Pierre whispers; Carlos opens his mouth to reply.

You turn, giving the most mother stare-down in history. They freeze, staring back at you. "You know what? She looks more like you, Y/n." Carlos praises, smiling brightly. "Is this why you two are fighting? You're both her godfather. Does it matter who her father is?" You hiss as Elijah flips onto his stomach, spread out on the bed.

"No." They both grumble, dropping their heads in shame. "Stop, or I'll ask Daniel and Max to be the godfathers." You threaten. "How was the flight? Was Elijah okay with it?" Pierre asks, passing your sleeping daughter off to Carlos, who starts to sway from side to side.

"He was fine; Carlos tired him out, so he'll be fine in this time zone." You explain, pushing hair out of your son's face. Pierre smiles, comes to your side, and bends to look at Elijah. "Charles and Lando have missed them, but they're getting worried." My throat tightens, feeling guilty at ghosting them.

Back home, they'd call to read Elijah a story for his bedtime. You jump, hearing the loud vibrations of your phone. Picking it up, a picture of Charles fills the phone.

"It's Charles. He always reads a bedtime story to Elijah. Not answering this feels wrong." Pierre moves, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and squeezing you into his side. "I know it's hard, Y/n.

But, he'll get to hold you and the kids again tomorrow." Pierre comforts you; he knows this is hard. He was missing Kika, as she wasn't able to join either.

"Yeah, they'll be pissed, but the reward will be worth it." Carlos lays Cécile down, giving her the little sloth stuffy he gave you when she was born. "But…..I've been ignoring them all day. The last time I went this long without talking to them was because we were on a break. It shattered Charles and Lando." Watching the call fade out leaves you with that daunting missed call notification.

"Hey, hey. Don't think like that." Pierre moves, hugging you. He's always been jealous of your family, how you three can't be without each other. He was shocked when he first heard that Charles and Lando were dating you.

He never knew that Charles even had a small family. Everyone in the world just believed that Elijah was Charles, biologically. So, when Pierre discovered that Elijah wasn't his and from a previous relationship, he became protective of Charles.

When he came over one night and saw how your family worked, he backed off, watching his childhood friend become a father. After a while, Lando joined, and this had everyone on edge.

Were you and Charles broken up? Did you love them both? What was going on? When Pierre noticed a change in the small family, he saw a missing piece fit perfectly.

"Uncle Pear?" Pierre pulls away, seeing Charles's eyes blink up at him. "Hey, buddy." He smiles, seeing Elijah sitting up, awake. "Uncle Pear!" Elijah squeals, flinging himself off the bed, happy to see him.

"Elijah, shh, you'll wake your sister." Your son giggles, hugging Pierre tight. "Sorry, Mommy." "It's okay, baby." Kissing your son's forehead. "Where's Papa and Daddy?" Elijah looks around the small room, his smile slipping off, not seeing them. "You're going to see them later; we're going to surprise them," Pierre explains, but Elijah whines.

"No." Pierre sits Elijah down, who starts to pout; a tantrum is brewing inside your small son. "You said we'll see them today! I want Daddy and Papa." Elijah's eyes grow glossy and wide, tired of not seeing his fathers.

"Elijah, don't cry." Carlos moves, sitting on the bed and pulling the young boy to his side. "You'll be seeing them, I promise. Would we and Mommy lie to you?" Carlos asks, rubbing Elijah's side. "No." He whispers, dropping his head.

"Exactly, now." Carlos stands, untucking the bed, helping Elijah lie in bed. "Go back to sleep. When you wake, we're going to see Papa and Daddy." Elijah nods his head, watching his two Uncles as they say goodnight to you, his sister, and then him.

"Bye." You wave as they sneak out of the room, careful not to get caught. "Mommy?" Elijah stares up at you from his bed. The huge bed engulfed his little body. "Can you read me a story?" The guilt hits you in full force again.

Elijah thought he'd see his Daddy and Papa, and they'd read him the story. Instead, you had to. "Of course, my little star." Slipping your shoes off, you climb into the bed, lying beside your son.

"There was once a little boy whose favorite color was red, and he wanted to make everyone proud when wearing it."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"He is just a little ball of energy, isn't he?" Daniel asks, clicking Cécile into her little backpack he'd be using to carry her. "Yes, when he woke, he kept asking, Can we go? Can we go?" Watching Elijah bounce on the bed.

He picked out his outfit, wearing a McLaren hat, Ferrari shirt, and some other stuff making sure he was supporting his fathers and uncles.

"Can we go?" Elijah asks; Daniel snickers, pulling a small hat on Cécile's head to ensure she doesn't get hot. "Elijah, if you ask again, I'm taking us home." Voice stern.

He bounces one more time, then stops sitting on the bed. He knew you were serious and didn't want to see that threat through. "Thank you, now. What do we say to Uncle Danny?" Snapping on Elijah's shoes. "Thank you, Uncle Danny." Daniel clutches his chest, faking pain.

"He's so cute, I'll die." Daniel gasps. "Don't die!" Elijah cries, startling Cécile, who starts to cry. "Whoops." Daniel chuckles, moving fast to comfort the little girl on his chest.

"Alright, let's go before anyone else starts to cry." Helping Elijah off the bed, you grab his hand. "Rule check." You announce, Elijah looking up at you.

"No running off; always stay with Mommy or Uncles." Your son rattles off, and you grab the lanyard, placing it around his neck. "And what else?" You ask, smiling. "Surprise, Daddy and Papa!" Elijah yells happily, his little body shaking with excitement.

"Good boy." You praise, holding his hand. Slipping away from the crowds, you get into an unmarked car. Cécile makes noises as Daniel explains everything to her, telling her every little detail of what today will be.

"Mommy! Look, we're here!" Elijah claps his hands, seeing the track and the familiar gates come into view. "Pierre, Max, and Carlos have been able to slip away; they're going to meet us at the front gate," Daniel explains, pulling your daughter's hat down.

You're thankful for Daniel doing that. The 3 of you weren't ready to show off your daughter's face, and the drivers told the media not to take pictures of your daughter.

"Alright, let's go." You grab the diaper bag, helping Elijah out, he runs around your feet. "Uncle Maxie!" Elijah laughs, seeing Max talking to Carlos and Pierre.

Max turns around, hearing someone call him; the wind is knocked out of him when a little body collides with his stomach. "Elijah!" You gasp, shouting apologies to Max, who waves you off, saying it's okay.

"He's just so happy. It's fine." Max laughs, picking up Elijah and hugging him close. "I missed you, but I missed Daddy and Papa more." Elijah laughs, hugging Max again, who smiles at the boy's excitement. "Little star, are you ready to see Daddy and Papa?" You ask, knowing that they are already inside.

"Yes!" Elijah gasps, face lighting up. "Welp, let's go." Carlos points off to the distance, making everyone laugh. "Here, let me take her." You unclasp the pack, grabbing your daughter, who still sleeps, and nuzzling into your neck.

You keep your distance, watching as Carlos leads Elijah through the paddock. Looking around, your eyes latch right onto him, his curls wild, bright orange shirt and black jeans. "Elijah." Grabbing your son's attention, you point out Lando.

"Daddy." Elijah gasps, tears gathering in the boy's eyes. He takes off, zipping through people. Making your way over, you watch as the McLaren media person notices Elijah, quick to turn on his camera. Elijah grabs onto Lando, who stutters, shocked at someone touching him. He glances, not seeing the face, but stands still for a picture as the little boy looks up at Lando.

"Daddy!" Elijah cries, tears falling down his face; Lando stands there, shocked. "Elijah? Oh god, Elijah!" Lando shock wears off fast; dropping to his knees, he gathers his son into his arms. "Daddy! I've missed you!" Elijah sobs into his father's arms.

You, too, must wipe tears from your eyes, seeing Lando on the ground, holding Elijah tight. "Buddy, what are you doing here?" Lando pulls away from Elijah, shocked as he wipes tears from his face. "It's a surprise, Mommy said." Pointing at you as he flings his arms around Lando's neck.

"Y/n? Oh, baby." Lando stands, still holding Elijah as he pulls you into his arms. "Cécile, oh, my baby." Lando laughs, and a fresh set of tears fall. "Hi." You laugh, sniffling as you adjust Cécile, who whines, being squished.

"Elijah, buddy. I got to set you down, okay." Lando places his son down, quickly gathering you in his arms and kissing you softly. He pulls away, grabbing Cécile and placing kisses all over her face.

"Oh, Daddy has missed you so much, both of you." Lando gasps, pulling Elijah into the hug as well. "I'm going to lie down on the track; maybe this will end my torment." Daniel jokes, the others rolling their eyes and laughing.

"Does Charles know?" Lando kissed Elijah on his head, refusing to let the boy go. "No, we found you first." Grabbing Cécile, who whines loudly, reaching out for Lando, who laughs, grabbing her again. Laying her head on his shoulder, Lando's large hand covers her entire back.

"Come on, he's in the garage." Lando holds Elijah's hand, pointing everything out, where they can go and what they can do. Lando even shows Cécile off to some passing workers. "Alright, there he is. I think you should go up and hand him Cécile." Lando whispers, handing her back to you.

Nodding, you move around the garage, everyone smiling, seeing who the random person is approaching their drivers. "Charles? Do you mind holding Cécile?" You ask. Charles hums and grabs his daughter, not even batting an eye.

You see the moment he stops, looking down at the baby pulling on his necklace; his head turns slowly to look at you. Shock fills his eyes as he faces you. "Y/n? What? You didn't answer my phone calls!" Charles accuses, which has you laughing, hugging him tight.

"Shut up! I didn't want to ruin the surprise." You mumble into his neck as his free arm wraps around you, pulling you close. "Papa! My turn!" Elijah shoves his way between your bodies, Lando laughing as he takes Cécile so Charles can hug Elijah properly.

"It is your turn, my little ducky." Scooping Elijah into his arms, they hug each other tight, Elijah melting into his Papa's arms. "I missed you, don't leave that long again." Elijah whimpers, burying his head into Charles's chest.

"Never. We're never going to be gone that long again." Charles swears, pulling you and Lando into a hug. "We're back together; we'll never be apart again," Charles whispers.

And he held that promise to truth; the 5 of you were never apart again.

#formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #formula one #f1 scenario #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #dad!charles #dad!lando #our boy series #charles leclerc fic #charles lecrelc #charles leclerc imagine #charles x reader #charles imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader

[fitgirlfemdom]

✧∘* ✧･ﾟbigger guys✧∘* ✧･ﾟ

you meet me at the gym. maybe i caught your eye from the squat rack or maybe you watched as a downed a bottle of water during a break. it doesn't matter--we get to talking. eventually, you realize, i come to that gym everyday, and soon we get to exchanging numbers. i come across as this demure, young cardiobunny with a bit of an obsession for you, and maybe you're just looking to score.

it doesn't matter. i tell you that i like bigger guys. you ask me about my opinion of you, and i suggest that you could eat a few more calories. after all, it's bulking season. you don't really think that your 10% body fat is gonna maintain all the way to summer, do you? i suggest a mass gainer shake brand, and although you forget most of our conversation, on your way home, you couldn't help but stop by a grocery store and pick some up.

that's when i start asking you about it. i recommend, after our respective work-outs when we're downing out protein shakes, you take your mass gainer at the same time. it's efficiency, after all. you say you want to ease into it, but after meeting my eyes as the bottle touches your lips, something changes in you.

i go to the gym everyday, and when i see you enter, i ask about the shakes. you did bring some with you, right? you won't get any gains if you don't eat right after! didn't you know that? and that brand isn't even that good anyway. who told you to get that? let's head to your place after--i'll show you how to make a real shake.

that's when it becomes a daily routine--well, it started to, before your lethargy got to you. post-workout, i'd head over and whip up something special for you--gobs of peanut butter, mass gainer, heavy cream, protein powder, the works--all in the comfort of your own blender. you start to question if all of this is really necessary, but i did tell you big guys were better, and are you gonna tell me i'm wrong? look at you. don't get self-deprecating now. i like how much you've gained!

the daily work-out dates turn to me seeing you after, crashed out on the couch. you head to the gym a few times a week, but not as commonly as before. you've just been so tired lately, i get it. rest days are even more important for recovery, though. it's doctors' orders-you need more sleep, and you need more shakes. when you're not ordering DoorDash, i'm the one cooking for you. a shake goes with every meal--it's mandatory. and you love it. they taste good! why think so hard about it when i'm smiling when you do it?

in fact, going to the gym at all is just cutting down the muscle you already have, don't you know that? you need some time to regain mass. you might as well quit your job--it's so demanding, isn't it? i could support both of us easily, and why would i want you to risk burning more calories out and about? it'd be much easier for you to sit on the couch and regroup, watch some TV, watch some porn, and eat.

you quit your job, because it's sucked the soul out of you, honestly. you've moved in with me, because there's no reason to live separately when we spend all our time together. you can't go five minutes without one of my shakes or my meals, after all. you're honestly a real glutton now, if i'm being honest. whenever i return from my daily gym visit, i make sure to bring you plenty of take-out, or three pizzas, or a few Subway footlongs, just to make sure you're well-fed. you've added probably 100lbs of mass at this point. it'd be a shame for all that hard work to go to waste.

you barely move from the couch, and i think it's starting to get to you. your gym buddies are all wondering what happened, and you can barely get the strength to sit-up by yourself, but that mental turmoil seems to dissipate when you're eating. it just tastes too good, doesn't it, baby? you're so full, but you love when i bring a fork to your lips, or a slice of pizza to your mouth. you love when i nod affirmatively, smiling as i watch you down another one of my shakes.

you especially love when i ride you. all those past memories, memories of athletic prowess, of high school cheerleaders, of locker room chats, all seem to fade away. the rush of a new PR, the delight in pumping iron, it's all gone. you spread your thick, plumped-out thighs outward and i straddle you as the TV plays. it's hard to get a good hold on your cock with that gut in the way, but you're so hard, so needy, so hot--i plunge myself on it right away. you feel my tight, toned body squeeze the life out of you, hearing the wet slaps of your balls on my defined, perky ass. you might not be able to move as well now, but i certainly can. i'm the tightest you've ever had, and my tits are pressed up against your face.

you're sweating, and you're not even moving. well, not intentionally, anyway. your tits are bouncing more than mine, let's be honest. everything about me is perky and defined, firm--even my ribs are apparent. but you? you're a pig. your moans almost sound like oinks, that's how much pressure you've put on your body. you stare up at me riding your cock, and because of your porn-rotten brain and how pathetic you are, you cum almost immediately, like always. doesn't matter. i give you a hearty dose of Viagra with your mass gainer shake after, and i use your cock for the next few hours. i get horny after the gym, what can i say?

you've blown at least four loads into my wet cunt at this point, and although my stamina hasn't faltered, you're completely spent. your cock is so overstimulated, you wince at the slightest touch. i know this, baby, and i care about you so much, so i make sure i've licked every inch of it clean. i stare up at you from this angle, but i can barely see your face behind your gut. you've really let yourself go, haven't you? you're shaking, overfed, overstimulated, bound to this couch under your own poor decisions. why even leave the house? they're all just gonna make fun of you. you think your gym buddies won't have a few choice words to say about you when you make your return?

you don't care about this, about any of this. your brain is so melted from the constant dopamine, the constant pleasure, that you've lost all self-awareness. your daily schedules consists of cable TV, countless hours of porn and touching your pathetic cock, and, of course, eating everything in sight. you're a complete degenerate, but you're my complete degenerate.

i did tell you i liked bigger guys.

#feedee encouragement #feedee feeder #feedee piggy #feederist #feeding kink #ffa #male feedism #male feedee #gaining weight on purpose #chubby guy #gaining kink

[astonmartinii]

daniel x gradschool reader?? maybe they’re not officially dating but he meets her when he’s in new york and they spend the summer together??

big apple lovin' | daniel ricciardo social media au

pairing: daniel ricciardo x gradschool!reader

sparks fly when daniel visits new york on his winter break

yourusername

liked by yourbff1, yourbff2 and 203 others

yourusername: studying up a storm in the city of my dreams

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yourbff1 stop being so pretty and so smart

yourbff2 yeah leave some for the rest of us

yourusername omg stopppppp i'm blushing

yourclassmate now zoom in so i can steal some notes

yourusername at least do the stealing urself

danielricciardo

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danielricciardo: big city exploring

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username he's looking so fucking good DAMN

landonorris miss you already

danielricciardo i tend to have that effect

username i'm sad he doesn't have a seat but he seems so much better right now

maxverstappen1 so like none of the pics we took matter?

danielricciardo didn't want to hurt your feelings when everyone ignores you for my sexy ass

newyorkstreetstyle

liked by yourusername, f1wagsupdates and 20,651 others

newyorkstreetstyle: our usual warren street fashion icon has been double trouble recently, obsessed with both.

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username warren street girl having the best taste in men as well ... mother

username not daniel ricciardo on new york street style do they not know who he is?

username DANIEL CONTENT

username people in the comment section freaking out over the man but warren street girl is the real nyc celebrity here

username warren street girl i do not know you but on behalf of the f1 community thank you for taking away danny's skinny jeans !

yourusername

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yourusername: found this stray cat in central park, anyone recognise them?

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yourbff1 idk who he is but he looks freakishly similar to the guy who hasn't left our apartment in a week

yourusername ah yes now you say it they do look strikingly similar

danielricciardo i won't stand for the bullying here !! y/n stopppppp

username what.do.we.have.here

username i'm totally chill about this rn

yourclassmate1 if he gets us all coffee again he can stay for as long as he wants

danielricciardo finally someone on my side

danielricciardo

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danielricciardo: wet dream concrete tomato or something like that

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username i am not okay

landonorris you got a gf WE GET IT

danielricciardo i'll leave you to your thirst traps

carlossainz55 low blow ricciardo

danielricciardo LET ME BE HAPPY

username bf!danny is something so personal to me

yourusername whoa what shade of lipstick is that?

danielricciardo a pretty one :)

yourusername

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tagged: danielricciardo

yourusername: final stretch of grad school with some extra motivation

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yourbff1 believe me everyone in the apartment can hear the motivation

yourusername THERE ARE KIDS ON THIS APP ACT APPROPRIATELY

danielricciardo sorry not sorry

landonorris so this is who the honey badger is obsessed with

yourusername as he should be

username GRAD SCHOOL? educated wag incoming let's go

nyu

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tagged: yourusername

nyu: nyu graduate y/n y/ln has had her graduate study published in the journal of english literature and cultural studies!

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username so how did danny's dumbass pull a published researcher?

yourbff1 ENGLISH LIT SLAY

yourusername thank you nyu will miss you guys :(

nyu come visit soon!

danielricciardo congratulations smarty pants xx

yourusername love you honey

username she's so mother i can't

yourusername

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tagged: danielricciardo

yourusername: grad school ... completed it mate ;)

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maxverstappen1 congrats y/n !!

danielricciardo love you so much, so glad i met you xx

yourusername thank you for spilling your coffee on my manuscript xx

username they're so cute oh myyyyyyyyy

yourclassmate1 but now we need jobs

danielricciardo

liked by redbullracing, yourusername and 812,673 others

tagged: yourusername

danielricciardo: finally showed the mrs my day job

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username FULL LAUNCH AT A RACE OH LORD

yourusername so you really are that famous?

danielricciardo who wouldn't be a fan of my face?

yourbff1 so where's our tickets we had to deal with you all spring term?

username she's so fucking pretty STEP ON ME

note: pls enjoyyyyyyy (p.s. there's a lando request i finished but tumblr deleted it from my drafts so i'll get that up asap) xx

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo instagram au #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine

[cranberrymoons]

i'll be home for christmas

prompt: no upside down au (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: t word count: 909 words tags: flirting, bartender eddie, college student steve

welcome to Day 9 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

Nancy dumps him a few months after he moves away for school, and so he doesn’t come home that summer or the one after that, until a couple years have gone by and he ends up stuck back at his parents’ house during Christmas break. 

He hasn’t seen them in a while, but truth be told, he’d kind of rather just be back in South Bend hiding out in his dorm or maybe at the bar with Robin, the only other person from Hawkins who’d ended up at Notre Dame. He hadn’t even known her before they were there, and she’s a year below him, but – whatever. When you leave a small town, you sort of tend to find each other after a while.

She’s not there right now, though, so it’s not like it really even makes a difference. She’s off on some trip with her own parents, one that they take every other year, back to visit her mom’s old hippie friends in Berkeley, because Robin has the sort of parents who have old hippie friends back in Berkeley. Maybe Steve could just get adopted by them, and then he'd never have to come back here at all.

Anyway.

He’s here now. That’s the problem.

And of course he got into a fight with his dad on the first night back. Of course he did. I wasn't even over anything worthwhile, just – Whatever. It doesn’t even matter. He doesn’t even care, just. He really does hate his dad sometimes.

He clenches his jaw in rhythm to the song that’s playing from the tape deck in his room, turns his head on the pillow to squint at the glowing red alarm clock in the corner. 

8:50 PM

It’s barely even nighttime. He can’t just sit here like this, like he’s waiting for his parents to leave, because they’re not going to fucking leave, so maybe – maybe he should –

He catapults himself off the bed and reaches for his keys on the dresser, shoving them in his back pocket before he can overthink it. Down the stairs, slipping into his shoes by the door, shrugging into his coat. Calling over his shoulder that he’s going out, don’t wait up, and –

He doesn’t actually know where he’s going, but he gets in his car and starts driving. Just drives until he ends up parked in front of the Hideout, the run-down little dive bar on the complete opposite side of town. 

It’s open, and there are a few people hanging around out front, so he turns off the car and goes inside.

It’s dark in here, the ceiling low and the music kind of weird and more guitar-y than he’s used to, but it’s medium-crowded in a way that makes him feel like he can probably just grab a seat at the bar and blend in and not have to worry about anyone trying to talk to him about –

“Harrington?”

Fuck. 

He turns with a big fake smile on his face, prepared to deal with Tommy, who he hasn’t seen in at least a year, or maybe even Billy, who he hasn’t seen in about as long. Worst of all would be the Byers kid, the one he got dumped for, but Jonathan’s probably not bold enough to actually say anything to his face, but still. The last person he expects to find is –

“Munson?” 

Eddie gives a little jerk of his head and drops a dish towel over his shoulder. He braces his hands on the opposite side of the bar, arms spread wide, and Steve’s eyes flicker down, just for a beat, to the way the thin cords of muscle flex under his skin where it’s lined with a twisting pattern of black tattoos.

Eddie clears his throat, and Steve sucks in a breath, blinking back up to his face. Eddie raises his eyebrows. 

“What’ll it be?”

“Um. Just a – beer, whatever,” Steve says as he tugs his coat off and slides onto a stool. “You work here?”

“No, I’m just a really creative burglar,” Eddie says. He reaches for a glass and pulls the tap as he eyes Steve up and down. “Playing the long game. If I stand back here long enough, they’ll stop noticing me, and that’s when I strike.”

He sets down the drink and slides it across the bar, and Steve grins as he accepts it, letting out a surprised laugh. 

“Well now you’ve given it away,” he says, raising his eyebrows as he takes a sip. “Your plan is ruined.”

“You’re going to turn me in?” Eddie asks. He folds his arms over his chest and leans back against the countertop behind him, and Steve’s eyes drop down again like he can’t help it. “What if I cut you in? Ten percent?”

Steve feels a pleased little flush wash over him as he looks back up to Eddie’s face, shoulders relaxing as he takes another sip of his beer. Eddie’s smile is slow and a little sweet, and it makes something in Steve’s stomach do a weird little flip. He tears the corner off a bar napkin to distract his hands from fidgeting too much, and leans forward across the bar. He narrows his eyes.

“Twenty.”

Eddie’s smile grows. He lifts his chin. “Fifteen, and your next beer’s on me.”

Steve laughs, feeling a warm glow settle in his chest. “Sounds like a deal.”

[also on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #my fic

[koolades-world]

hiii i was wondering if you could write abt an asian mc ? with the brothers or the dateables i don't mind! i just think it would be funny to see yk asian mc who's a high achiever (so even at RAD when they know nothing abt magic they'll try to score high), always take off their shoes before entering a place (entering a place with shoes is forbidden !!), always cook rice or stuff from their country when on cooking duties ("wdym we already ate that when it was my turn last time?"), will make you special herbal tea if you're sick (first time i suggested to make tea for my ill white friend they laughed :( ), tells you to eat more and in the same fashion, whose love language is giving you food, etc... bonus point if mc swears in their mother tongue. And if the MC was living in their native country before going to the devildom, their ability to just nap anywhere as if it's normal.

As someone who grew up in an asian household it's just regular to me but i can picture the face Lucifer would make if the first time mc enter Dia's castle they take off their shoes casually or like MC stuffing Beel's mouth with food as if he just didn't swallow the biggest mouthful of udon ever saying "come on Beel you need food, you need strength to play Fangol"

For the nap thing i was thinking about my relatives who take nap on their wooden bad or just the floor during summer (cause its fresh yk). My grandma always said a hard bed is good for the back lol

Anyway no pressure!! Have a nice day and take care !

hi!! yes of course :)

i'm a different flavor of asian but some of the culture overlaps so this was fun to write! haha the amount of times my grandma has urged me to eat more is hard to count. oh and the amount of tea i drank when we went to visit. i'll never forget watching her make the tea because it was a whole experience

i'm half indian and someone actually requested an indian mc so that will be out tomorrow because doing these requests back to back easiest for me!

enjoy <3

Asian Mc

Lucifer

you're ALWAYS on him for the amount of coffee he drinks

you also always make sure he takes a break to eat dinner because he needs to eat in order to continue his work

despite how bothered he might seem sometimes, he really does value what you do for him

plus, you not only keep yourself in line, sometimes you do his brothers for him too. thanks on his behalf!

Mammon

once you grow closer, he's asking you to teach him swear words so he can cuss out lucifer

if you don’t, well, he’ll just pick them up when you swear and hope he can figure out what it means haha

if you want, feed him random words, or even compliments so when lucifer hears them, he'll just be confused haha

despite the fact that he's the demon, maybe you can help him in class

Levi

when he first meets you, he'd not sure what to expect

however he quickly learns you're the best at everything you do

this includes video games and everything of that manner

he's got competition now, but he has no clue how you got so good considering it was probably your first time at all of the games you've tried

Satan

he's impressed by your work ethic and desire to achieve

you got dropped in a totally new environment and instead of struggling to adjust like he predicted, you bounced back almost immediately and were at the top of your class like it was nothing!

he tried to ask you once why you seemed so determine to get the best grade and never asked again after the look you gave him

something the two of you can bond over, though, is tea! he can often be seen with a cup of tea so that's an easy conversation starter between the two of you if not homework instead

Asmo

while initially he thought you two might not get along, you actually do quite well

he's huge on no shoes in the house and especially in his room

after all, he wants to avoid bringing as many outside germs into his room as possible

can and will ask you to teach him how you make your special herbal teas because he hates being sick and genuinely just wants to know

Beel

he falls in love with your rice cooker

rice that easy and that quick? sign him up! if he didn't already love rice you've put him on it

he doesn't think he could ever part with you and your wonderful cooking

even if you do cook the same thing every time it's your turn, he will inhale it because not only is it delicious, but you're an amazing cook

Belphie

even he's impressed by your ability to fall asleep anywhere

at least he's always with his pillow and maybe a blanket but he's seen you just curled up on the porch waiting for someone to get home

but that sighting was rare, because he felt like he always saw you doing something

however he really appreciated all the little things you did for him, such as making his bed

#obey me #obey me! #obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me beel #obey me mammon #obey me asmo #obey me lucifer #obey me levi #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

[moonydustx]

Hey, Brazilian here!!! Can you write about Law x Sick!Reader?

Oi oi! Mais um dia, mais um atraso om os pedidos. Primeiro, muito obrigada pelo seu pedido <3 Aqui e aqui temos algumas histórias sobre Law x Sick!Reader. Mas como é quase irresistível escrever sobre nosso pirata favorito, hoje eu trouxe mais uma. Espero de verdade que goste!

And here’s the translation: Hi Hi! Another day, another delay with orders. First, thank you so much for your request <3 Here and here we have some stories about Law x Sick!Reader. But since it's almost irresistible to write about our favorite pirate, today I brought one more. I really hope you like it!

Requests are back soon, don't give up on me!

one piece masterlist

The isolated

Law x Sick!Reader (F!Reader)

warnings: idiots who don't know how to show their feelings, maybe there is a wrong use of DF, certainly medical errors because I'm not very good at writing this topic.

The sun shone brightly outside the Polar Tang, matching the summer island you had stumbled upon. Beaches, parks, and even a small forest trail awaited you, and despite Bepo's grumbles, it promised to be a good time to relax.

"Are you two staying here?" you adjusted your backpack on your back and stopped beside your captain. "There's so much to do."

"I only leave here to buy ice, or ice cream." Bepo, sprawled on the deck, grumbled. Your eyes soon turned to the captain's.

"And you?"

"Maybe I'll go to the city later, need to buy some things." he said, assessing you from head to toe. "Aren't you going to the beach with them?"

"Not really. From what I saw, there's a pretty cool trail to hike, I can take the opportunity to get some new herbs."

"Hm, alright." he replied, returning to contemplating Bepo suffering in the heat.

"Any problem, Captain?"

"No, nothing serious." Lie. The invitation for you to accompany him on the small visit to the city lingered on his lips, but apparently, it would stay there. "Enjoy your trail."

"Thanks, Captain! I'll be back before the end of the day."

You disembarked from the ship without further difficulties, following the small map you had bought earlier. On the Polar Tang, Law watched from afar as you walked away. He held a certain fondness for you - one you would never suspect - making it difficult for him to approach. Despite the shared breakfasts and the plant and herb lessons you gave him, which he insisted on attending despite knowing most of the content already, he enjoyed being with you. It was a pity he didn't know there was a reciprocal feeling on your part.

On the other hand, you even expected an invitation to accompany him, but just as he didn't seem very interested in being on your trail, he also didn't seem interested in your company. The hours passed without end, and with each passing moment, you grew more and more exhausted. Even before the sun set, you were already making your way back up to the Polar Tang.

"What the hell happened to you?" Shachi was the first to ask, catching your attention as you headed towards the submarine's interior.

"What the hell what?" you looked over, seeing nothing abnormal except for the fatigue and heat in your body, likely from all the walking.

"We better call the captain." Jean Bart advised and didn't wait for a response, running further into the submarine.

You tried to see something in some reflection as you watched your colleagues avoid you as if you carried the plague within you. Your irritation with your friends was replaced by concern as soon as Law saw you. You expected a scolding, you expected some acidic comment from him, but you didn't expect the lack of words, except for the ones that made you teleport with him straight to the medical ward.

"Captain, what's happening?" you stumbled backward as he guided you not so gently to a stretcher.

"Open your mouth." he completely ignored your question, and you could tell he was more worried than usual, so you just obeyed. With a small flashlight, he checked what you believed was just your throat. "Can you breathe normally, have you felt anything?"

"I'm just a bit tired, that's all. I don't understand all this fuss." you grumbled.

Only then did Law realize that indeed, you knew nothing of what was happening or why everyone had practically become concerned. Looking for a mirror and finding it impossible to find one in the medical ward of the Polar Tang, he grabbed a small sterilized steel tray and passed it to you, indicating that you should look at yourself.

"What?" your cry echoed through the enclosed room. Your face, neck, and every piece of skin you could see were adorned with red and swollen lumps. "Law, what's happening to me?"

"At first, I thought it might be an allergic reaction. But with unobstructed airways, I rule out that possibility, given the size of these lumps, if it were an allergy you shouldn't be breathing." he touched your face, gently turning it from side to side.

"And you're speaking so calmly?"

"If I spoke more agitatedly, you'd get nervous, your body would pump your blood faster, and if it were poison it would only take a few minutes for you to drop dead here." again, that calmness in dealing with serious matters infuriated you. "It might be that," he muttered to himself.

"Poison? Am I poisoned?" you stood up and immediately stumbled, leaning against his arms. "Am I going to die?"

"Probably, maybe, and no." he helped you sit back down. "Just give me a minute, I suspect what it might be."

He disappeared from your sight, and immediately, it was as if exhaustion dominated your body. You allowed yourself to lie down and wait for a few minutes. When your eyes were already heavy - even though less than five minutes had passed - you saw him appear with a book in hand.

"Can you stand up and take off your clothes?" he asked, seeing you nod, even though it took minutes just for you to stand up.

Remaining only in underwear, Law took care not to touch your body disrespectfully. The lumps already occupied almost your entire skin, giving him some trouble finding what he needed. After turning you around a few times and bending down to see better, he unfortunately found what he suspected.

"Here!" he pointed to the side of your body and again picked up the small steel plate that served as a mirror. As soon as he showed you, you could locate two red dots. Law then stood up and took the book he had brought. "It's a type of bug common on this kind of island."

"And what does that mean?" you leaned on the cot, not bothering to put your clothes back on.

"Well, it's going to be a few difficult days, and I'll need to isolate you from the rest of the crew, but you'll be fine."

"What do you mean by difficult days?" you tried to grab his book, but he didn't allow it. The way the symptoms were written was much scarier than it should have been in reality, at least that's what he hoped.

"Some symptoms are quite annoying, but with the right treatment, in about six to seven days, you'll be cured." he explained, watching you nod slowly. "It's normal to feel a bit tired at first; you might feel a bit itchy tomorrow too."

"You said you're isolating me here, is there a risk I've contaminated someone?" contaminated you, you wanted to add, but preferred to keep the thought to yourself. "I haven't touched anyone, but you never know."

"Contamination is through fluids, so no, for now, we'll all be fine. Here, I can still use my fruit to ensure a bit more protection for myself." he closed the book and stooped down, picking up the clothes you were wearing. "I'll get rid of this, alright?"

"Can you ask Ikakku to bring something for me to wear?"

"You're isolated, for a few days, only I will be able to come here, okay?" His hand almost touched you, but retracted in the last moments. "While you're not feeling better, we'll stay here on the island, but visits to the trail will be prohibited to everyone. I'll bring your clothes in a few minutes."

Law left and left you alone for a few moments, only returning to bring your pajamas. Even though you said it didn't need to be that type of clothing, Law warned that you would still be thankful for it.

On the first day, you were completely alone as the captain made sure that no one was infected and that everyone was aware of the necessary precautions. The lumps on your face seemed even redder, and when you noticed, you were already scratching and clawing, seeking some relief from the agony crawling on your skin.

"Don't scratch, you'll regret it." Law's voice appeared, and only then did you realize that he had entered the room. "It'll hurt more afterward."

"But Captain!" you grumbled and brought your nails back to your legs, barely reaching them before he grabbed your wrist. "It's itching too much!"

"I brought this." Only then did you realize that he had come armed with things. In one hand, a small pot that from the smoke and aroma, should be food. In the other, a small bag. "Here are ointments that can help, Ikakku also set aside some more clothes and other things that you might need."

You barely waited for him to finish speaking and began rummaging through the bag, searching for the ointment. As soon as you smeared it wherever you could reach, under his attentive gaze, you didn't need to ask. It only took a single exchange of glances for him to reach out and take the ointment from you. As soon as the cold cream reached your back - and perhaps because of the gentle way his fingers slid - you swore you could melt.

"I think it's good." He returned the tube and lowered your blouse carefully. "I brought soup for you."

"I'm not hungry."

"But I need you to eat, please." His eyes seemed to plead on their own, making it almost impossible for you to refuse.

Law stayed longer than the day before, watching you eat and updating you on what had happened outside. From Shachi and Penguin almost getting beaten up by two women on the beach, to Bepo swimming with buoys and several other amenities. Although he stayed longer than the day before, it didn't take long for Law to leave you alone again.

The next morning, you understood what Law meant about regretting scratching. The vivid memory of your nails scratching your body was replaced by an unbearable burning sensation, which left you almost immobile. Except that it also itched, making you seek friction, however minimal. That morning, you were taken out of bed by Law's appearance. A tray was in his hand, and as soon as he placed it on the table, he transported two more bags in.

"How are you feeling today?" he stopped by your side, looking at your still-laying face. "Burning, isn't it?"

"Like hell!" you grumbled, and saw him laugh, as if to say he had warned you. "Can you fix this?"

"At best, alleviate it." he warned, and saw you nodding against the sheets. "But first, breakfast." His tattooed hand stretched out, and you used it as support to sit up.

Grabbing the bread and juice glass, you pushed the fruits in his direction.

"Eat too." he just waved his hand, and you insisted. "Please, Captain. It'll make me feel less strange."

"Okay, just a little." He grabbed one of the grapes and ate.

As soon as you finished, Law used the power of the Ope Ope no Mi to get you to a shower, and apparently, he had already left that isolation for you. He leaned against the outside and left you alone, washing your body. Even against his will, Law could hear your grumbles and sniffs, he knew that the contact of the water against the skin would be torture at that moment, but it was the best solution he could think of. How he wished he could take that pain away from you.

In the afternoon of that same day, you didn't expect to see him again, until once again he appeared in the room, armed with things that barely crossed your mind of what they could be.

"I-I…" he started, feeling a little insecure. He felt that perhaps, just maybe, he might be crossing the line between doctor and patient. "I believe you might be feeling lonely."

"You have no idea." you weakly laughed, accepting the package he offered. Some books, crosswords, and candies were piled in the package. "That's very kind of you captain, thank you."

"I brought more of these too." He piled some books next to you, with a glance you realized they were comics. "They help me pass the time, I think they might help you too."

"This is that story... Sora, right?" you flipped through some, excitedly. "I've always heard about it and even tried to read it, but I confess I didn't understand much."

"What didn't you understand?" he sounded almost offended, sneaking a peek at what you were talking about.

The idea was for him to just leave things there and leave you alone, but it seemed almost impossible that afternoon. Law got lost in the hours, what was supposed to be a simple explanation ended with him reading some issues aloud to you. He only realized this when he heard your stomach growl, knowing it was already dinner time.

In the following two days, you alternated between scratching, trying to avoid scratching, getting scolded by Law, and him losing hours again, talking to you. It had reached the point where Law and you were counting the hours to know when you would see each other's faces. You because you loved the company of your captain and how soothing his voice sounded when he read, or how he got excited gossiping about the "outside world," and Law felt he needed to see you up close, to ensure that you were and would be fine.

The last bout of symptoms was what worried Law, and it was when he entered the room and found you lying on the floor in a fetal position that he knew it had finally arrived. Although it meant that the illness was leaving your body, he knew it would be the most painful part.

"Law." your tearful voice called him as soon as he picked you up to put you back in bed. "My body hurts so much."

"I know, I know." he tried to calm you down and saw you curl up even more. "I promise, just one more day, and you'll be okay."

"I don't know if I can handle a whole day with so much pain." you sobbed and hugged yourself. "It hurts to breathe, it hurts to move, and-I-I don't know what to do."

He sighed, trying to think of how he could take that away from you. It was just one more day of symptoms, but it hurt him to hear from your mouth that you couldn't handle it. Just one more day, one more day, and you would be well again.

"Do you remember when the pain started?" he stepped away to start preparing a serum with medications for you.

"About two hours ago." you whispered, pulling the blankets against you and trying to press against your own body, the contact of your skin seemed like a relief.

"Okay, we have a few more hours ahead." he gently pulled your arm, and with the dexterity that only he could have, hit your vein on the first try, plugging the medication. "Maybe this will help a little with the symptoms."

Law stepped back again to get the book he had found the information about the insect that had bitten you. Most of it was that the symptoms were difficult, but they overcame themselves, and although it seemed like you were going to die, the probability was minimal. Pain and complications, pain and complications. Law finally found the topic he needed. When the disease was leaving the body, the heat provided by fire, blankets, humans could help, as well as pressure on the painful area.

"I have an idea." he murmured and began to take off his shoes.

While you were lying down, barely having strength to open your eyes, you saw him take off the shoes he was wearing and take off the hat he had on. The first thing he did was cover your head with the hat, making sure to keep as much of the top of your face covered and warm. Soon, he climbed onto the bed with you, his legs intertwined with yours, and his hands began to press against your body, promoting such relief that it drew a sigh from your lips and allowed you to stretch.

"Sorry." he apologized, his hands now pressing against your back intensely. "It's the best I could think of quickly."

"It's perfect." with some difficulty, you turned to him. "Thank you for taking care of me, Captain."

"This is my duty, isn't it?"

"Well, not when I'm a mess here, in pain, and crying." you tried to laugh, but a memory of a conversation you had some time ago struck you. "Enough, Law, you need to step back."

"And why would I do that?"

"Why do you think? Contact equals contamination, don't you remember?" you grumbled. Even though the massage he provided was the relief you needed, the last thing you wanted was to infect him.

"You're no longer so contagious. You're on the last day of the illness, full of symptom medications, and I'm protected, there's no possibility of you infecting me." he explained and felt your hand against his chest, trying to push him away. "Don't you believe me?"

"I'm a mess here, of course I'll infect you."

Instead of answering you, Law just stole a quick kiss from your lips, in an impulse of courage to show a little of what he felt and in the desperation to stop you from continuing to push him and, consequently, pushing himself out of the bed.

"I wouldn't do this if you were contagious, you know that." he simply said and pulled you closer, allowing your face and body to almost merge against his skin. "Now let me take care of you."

The last day of the illness passed faster than you expected, mainly because much of it you spent sleeping in the arms of your captain, who didn't stop for a second trying to ward off the pain from you.

The next day, you were finally free to walk around the submarine, take a shower freely, choose your own clothes, free from the small medical ward you spent those days in. As soon as you finished putting on your uniform, two knocks on the door caught your attention.

"Can we talk?" Law inquired, not waiting for the answer to enter the room. "About yesterday…"

"There's nothing I would change about that." you interrupted him, and you swore you could see a certain blush on his face. "Except the pain, I thought I was going to die."

"I would never let that happen."

"Captain?" you approached, stopping a short distance from him.

"Law, please." he corrected you. He liked to hear his title leave your lips, but hearing his name was a much more savory experience.

"Law, aside from all the pain and stress, it was good to spend these days alone with you." you confessed, seeing him nod. "Although I'm also ridiculous with those lumps that have now turned into scars, I really should have listened to you."

"Don't say that, even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be that." he refused to name you in such a rude way. "And I also enjoyed our time together."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I want to do it right." he cleared his throat, adjusting his posture and asking the question that could avoid all the stress of you having gone to do the damn trail. "Will you accept to visit the city with me?"

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader

[ofstarsandvibranium]

He's A Pretty One: Part 2

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: You’re visiting your cousin in Hawkins for the summer and you meet his very pretty and very rebellious friend and bandmate.

A/N: this became another impromptu mini series. There will be one more part after this!

Part 1

Gareth led you inside the seedy dive bar that he, Eddie, and the rest of the band play. The Hideout is remote from everywhere else, wedged in between an abandoned steel factory and a cornfield.

You try to keep a neutral face as you observe the few patrons, the dirty carpet, the tables and counters that look like they haven't been wiped down in decades.

Towards the front of the stage is a small wooden stage that looks like it could collapse any minute. At said stage, Jeff, Doug, and Eddie are bringing in their instruments and equipment.

"So this is the Hideout?" you ask even though you know the answer.

Gareth nods, "Yup! Isn't it great?!"

You snort and pat his shoulder, "Sure it is, Gare."

"GARETH! STOP CHIT CHATTING AND HELP!" Eddie yells from the stage.

Your cousin groans, "He's in a bad mood," he mumbles to you before heading towards the stage.

You stand there looking around the place and figure you could grab a drink. You walk up to the bar counter where a five-foot tall woman with maroon hair looks up in confusion.

"You're not a regular," she states plainly.

You cock a brow, "No...I'm not. Don't know if that's a good thing or bad thing."

The woman rolls her eyes, "Did you want something, kid?"

"Well you don't seem like you'd serve martinis here so I guess I'll take a beer."

The woman rolls her eyes again and grabs you a bottle of Coors and twists the cap off.

You turn and take a sip, leaning against the counter while the guys set up. Your eyes move from Gareth, Jeff, Doug, and finally land on Eddie. His brows are furrowed as he tunes his guitar. You're not sure what is it but he seems even hotter right now. Maybe it's the low lighting of the bar or maybe some weird chemicals from the old factory are getting in your system.

Feeling eyes on him, Eddie looks up and sees you staring his way. He smirks and gives you a wink before continuing to tune his guitar.

"Be careful around that one," the woman at the counter says.

You turn around and face the woman, "Whaddaya mean?"

She scoffs, "Just be careful around him. Junior's just like his dad. No good."

"No offense, lady, but I'm not sure you're a great judge of character considering," you gesture to the run down bar.

The woman looks at you unamused, "Just watch yourself around him."

"Around who?" Eddie asks, taking a spot beside you at the counter.

You smirk as you face him, "Word on the street is that you're bad news, pretty boy."

Eddie grins, "Bad news? Me?" he stands back, arms open wide, "Look at me. I'm an angel."

"So was Lucifer before he fell from Heaven."

"Touché," he states and you watch as he checks you out again with no subtlety, "So, we're all set up. You ready?"

"Like the goddess Pat Benatar once said, hit me with your best shot, Munson."

Eddie takes your hand and brings you to the front of the stage. He hops onto the wooden platform and yells into the mic, "Welcome to the Hideout, everyone! I'm Eddie Munson and we're Corroded Coffin!"

Gareth slams his drumsticks together and then begins to play with the rest of the guys.

You nod your head to the beat, eyes never wavering from Eddie as he sings and plays his guitar. He truly is mesmerizing when he's in his element.

As he sang, he kept his eyes on you. To be fair, there wasn't anyone else he could really look at besides the few drunkards littered around the bar. You're definitely the most attractive person here, aside from Eddie.

___________________________

After a few more songs, Eddie thanks the "crowd" and they end their set. He immediately hops down from the stage after gently setting down his guitar. He waltzes over to you with a proud grin, "So?"

You nod, "Not bad, Van Halen. You got a lot of potential."

"Thanks. There's someone who actually wants us to sign with a record label she works for, but we need to record a demo, which costs money. Hence me working in this shit hole," he gestures around and the woman yells from the counter, "I CAN FIRE YOU RIGHT NOW IF YOU WANT!"

"Sorry, Bev!" he looks at you with a shrug, then nods to the bar, "Can I get you another drink? Or I can make one for you?"

You scrunch your nose up, "I'm good. Not sure if your boss there cleans the cups well."

Eddie chuckles, "Oh they're clean. I'm the one who does the dishes, not Bev."

"I'm good with this for now," you lift your beer bottle, still not finished because you were so focused on watching Eddie perform.

Eddie stuffs his hands in his jean pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet, "Sooo...whatcha doing after this?"

"Going home? Eddie, it's almost midnight."

"So? There's the diner downtown that's open late. Just drop the brat off at home and we can go."

"Where are we going?" Gareth asks with a smile.

"You're going home. Eddie and I are gonna hang."

"Hang or ba-"

"Do you actually want know if I'm gonna bang your friend, Gareth?"

Your cousin grimaces, "God, no! Gross! Disgusting!"

"Get a grip, kid," Eddie shoves Gareth by the shoulder and your cousin stumbles back.

"Jeez. Okay. Well, we're packing up. Can I see your keys?" Eddie tosses him his keys and he goes to help Jeff and Doug lug the gear to Eddie's van.

You lean against the bar counter and look at Eddie with a cocked brow, "So, pretty boy, is what Bev says true? You trouble?"

"Only the best kind of trouble," he replies with a look that just makes you melt inside.

"Alright. I'll bite. Meet me back at Gareth's then?"

"See you then," he gives you a wink and goes back to the stage to help the rest of the guys put away the equipment.

_____________________

Back at Gareth's, you're rushing around the guest room trying to fix up your hair and touch up your makeup. You made sure that you wore the least embarrassing bra and underwear, just in case.

Your cousin stood in your doorway pouting, "I hate this."

You stop and sigh, "Gareth, we're literally just going to the diner downtown. We're not getting married."

"Okay just...make sure whatever this is doesn't effect my friendship with Eddie."

"Pretty sure it'll end up being just a one night stand, which I'm fine with. And you know me, I don't make things into a big deal. Does he?"

"Not really."

"Then you should be fine."

You hear a soft knock at the front door and rush out of the room. When you pull open the door, Eddie staring at you with a grin, "Ready?"

"Yup!"

You turn and ruffle Gareth's hair, "Don't stay up too late, Gare."

"Yeah, yeah, and use protection. Don't wanna be an uncle yet!"

You give him a thumbs up and head to Eddie's van. He opens the passenger door for you and closes it when you hop it.

He promptly slips into the driver's seat. As soon as the van roars to life, Metallica is blasting through the speakers. He drives away from your aunt and uncle's, looking at you with a mischievous grin on his face. Something is telling you that this is a night you'll never forget.

Part 3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #f!reader #fem!reader #female!reader #eddie munson imagine

[verysium]

blue lock boys as assassins (au i guess?), i hope you could include Oli, Yuki and Barou!

anon you have me at crossroads because the very idea of an assassin AU spawns an infinite glitch of possibilities....🤔 like mafia underground syndicate assassin? or like solitary mysterious hitman type of assassin? or even better could this be ninja/shinobi stealth warrior assassin? i'm going give a general description though:

oliver is the laid-back good guy. escorts you to the bar, drinks on him. claps every passerby on the back as if he personally knows them. you think he's alright. not too handsome and just the right amount of ruggedness. he offers you a good time, so you two hit off for the night. and that's where everything starts to go downhill. one shoot-out, intense knife fight, and grueling police chase later, you pant for dear life against the side of a brick wall in some torn up alley because it turns out your one-night stand was actually an assassin for japan's largest underground syndicate.

you grip your broken heel tightly in one hand, body collapsed against the brick cornerstone as you seethe, the condensation of your gasping breath forming tendrils in the cold night. you reach up a hand to wipe the sweat off your face. it comes back red, the meticulous hours of applying your makeup wasted when you see the damning smears of lipstick. this was not the type of fun you signed up for on a friday night.

"oliver, what the fuck was that?"

he laughs sheepishly, cocking his gun back with ease before he lights up a cigarette, palm cupping the flame. he turns, then walks over two bodies without blinking, suede shoes clicking against the cobblestone. you're angry at him, but he doesn't care, wrapping an arm around your waist, nose buried in your hair.

"just a side hustle, sweetheart. come on, let's get you home."

yukimiya is the sweet, unassuming literature student. he came home from university to help his grandmother out over the summer, manning the front counter of her antique oddities shop. you like him. he's awkwardly charming, a little too zealous for the job, but still endearingly kooky. you have him pinned down as the sad poet type. the kind of person who wears the same knitted cardigan every day, complete with horn-rimmed glasses and 1940's gingham elbow patches. he can handwrite a sonnet in less than a minute, gift-wrap your purchases in record time. you let him buzz around you while you make your daily visit to his shop, listening to him talk about the collections of radioactive glassware, the vintage phonograph in the corner, and the rare edition of Gutenberg bibles sitting silently in the old book section.

"you know, you really don't have to do that."

he peers up at you owlishly, dark brow furrowed before you point out the spool of twine in his hand, the way he's carefully folding the newspaper around the edges of the new vase you purchased. he laughs, shrugging off your concerns with a wave. you catch a brief whiff of his cologne, the subtle scent of mint and toluene. maybe a hint of vanillin too.

"don't worry about it miss! gift-wrapping is a free service. i'll even add two complimentary trinkets if you'd like. we have a clearance section that's been slow to sell. you could even take a few for free."

"i'm alright. thanks for the offer though." he nods, fingers delicately tying a bow before he places your vase in a bag, fluffing up the tissue paper on top. you smile to yourself when you see the intricate lettering of the card he snuck in. must've been another one of the love poems he wrote. you know how the saying goes.

roses are red. violets are blue.

by the time you step out the shop, the door chime twinkles in the distance, a peal of bells to signal your departure. from behind the windows and glass paneling, he watches your figure trail down the sidewalk, winter coat fluttering in the wind. his eyes darken beneath the tortoiseshell frame, finger moving down the yellowed pages of his accounting book before crossing off another name. he doesn't even look up when he hears the loud honking and screams, the sound of a body hitting the pavement.

one is dead, and so are you.

barou is probably the most obvious one. very upfront about the work he does. the only caveat is that you can never trace his work back to him. he cleans up way too well. always shoots his targets through the eye because it's less of a mess that way. leaves absolutely no evidence at the murder scene. i picture you as one of the unfortunate victims caught up in the fray. collateral damage, as he likes to call it.

"you know, i've never met someone so equally stubborn and stupid."

you glare at him, throat sore and aching as you scream through your gag, cursing him out in every language in existence. he merely stares down at you, arms crossed and eyebrow arched in amusement. you struggle for a good minute, flopping around like a fish as you try to free yourself from your bonds. how the hell do you go from taking an errand trip to the grocery store to getting kidnapped and tied up in a man's trunk?

"what's that? couldn't hear you from all the noise."

god, you want to strangle him. you heave a breath, swallowing the bitter taste of your own spit when he finally unties the gag, your lungs gasping for air.

"i said...you think i'm the stupid one? you're the one who tied me up!"

"because you wouldn't stop squealing like a pig."

"you were trying to kill me!" he snorts derisively at your comment, his red eyes piercing and haughty. the loud thump of the trunk door closing reverberates throughout the parking garage before you find yourself face first on the pavement, body dumped unceremoniously on the ground. he looks down at you dismissively, wiping the dust off his hands.

"nah, i'd save myself the hassle."

your eyebrow twitches in irritation, jaw dropping at that violation. oh, it was personal now. he deserved capital punishment. strangling would be too merciful. you try to get back on your feet, a task that proves all the more difficult with your legs bound and arms twisted behind your back. he merely waits, as if knowing when you'd finally give up, sinking at his feet in defeat.

"you done?" you nod your head, slumping down into the concrete. your voice becomes small and sheepish by the time you raise your face to look at him.

"can't you just...let me go? i promise i won't say anything." he rolls his eyes, swinging you over his shoulder in one fell swoop, locking the car with a resounding beep. you start to panic when you feel him carrying you to the garage exit, vision swirling with nothing but concrete and the solid sound of his combat boots.

"wait....wait! i swear to god! please just let me go. i won't tell a soul."

"nope. can't have any witnesses." you feel a handkerchief come up at engulf your nose and mouth, the sweet smell cloying and sharp. you start to squirm in his arms.

"wait! no...please! if you touch me again, i'll scream." his grin is the last thing you see in the darkness, sharp canines brushing against the shell of your ear.

"oh, you'll do so much more than scream, darling."

#asks #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #bllk #oliver aiku #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku x you #aiku x reader #yukimiya kenyu #yukimiya x reader #bllk yukimiya #barou shouei #barou x reader #bllk barou #barou shoei x reader

[differenteagletragedy]

swap au: the boy across the street is Baxter, the boy who lives far away but is still your friend is Cove, and the boy who comes for but one summer is Derek.

When I tell you the powerful and immediate urge I had to rewrite the entire dang game with this ... this is so much fun, thank you!!!

You could hear the new neighbors moving in at your spot behind your house. You'd thought about taking a peek to see what kind of people they were like, but decided to stay out of the way, watching clouds on the poppy hill instead. With how nosy your moms had been after the "for sale" sign disappeared, you'd be learning about them soon enough.

After a while, the clouds stopped holding your attention and you stood, looking for a new activity. Before you knew it, you were making your way to the shore -- there was always something to do there.

When you arrived, the typically empty beach wasn't quite as empty as it usually was. Up near the path, away from the water but still on the sand, was a boy. He looked to be your age, maybe a little older. He hadn't heard you approach, and was instead staring straight ahead at the ocean.

"Hi," you said, and you quickly broke whatever spell he was under. "I haven't seen you around before."

"That would be because I just moved here," he said. He pulled on the hem of his shirt, then smiled at you, extending a hand. "My name is Baxter Ward."

At the time, you thought it was weirdly formal, something grown-ups did to greet each other, not kids. But over time, as you got to know him and all his quirks, you looked back at the moment fondly.

That summer, he became your best friend.

You took to each other immediately, and if you had it your way you would've have spent every waking minute together. Sometimes Baxter couldn't hang out though -- he didn't talk about it much, but he seemed sad sometimes when he talked about his parents, and the few times you spoke with them you got the feeling they didn't like you very much.

But Baxter, as oddly formal as he was, wasn't afraid to break rules. And after a meeting between his parents and yours that didn't seem to go so well, your moms were quick to welcome him whenever he wanted to come over. You were able to get close.

By the time the summer was over, you could hardly remember what life was like before he came into it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Five years later, you were 13, and Baxter was still your best friend. He went to a private school while you went to the public one, and from what little he told you about it, he didn't really have friends there. It was a boring place to be, he told you, and he'd much rather be spending time with you than with those spoiled rich kids.

He never bothered noting that he was also a spoiled rich kid.

One day, the two of you were in your bedroom, wasting away a day together. He was lying comfortably on your bed and you were sitting at the foot of it, leaned against the window he regularly used for secret visits -- when he didn't want to hear his parents complain about him spending so much time with you, he found it easier to just slip away unnoticed.

"There's a boy coming over today," he mentioned, ending a comfortable silence. "I think you'll find him interesting."

"If you think he's interesting, then I'm officially scared," you teased.

He smirked in response. He was proud.

Over the past few months, Baxter had started getting more experimental with his fashion. He'd always dressed a bit preppy, and that hadn't changed much, but now he was moving towards clothes that were only black and white. He'd shown you a few more alternative pieces he'd ordered, things that matched the color scheme but were a little more out there, but he hadn't had the nerve to wear them out yet.

"He's the son of a business partner of my father's," he explained of the mystery boy. "I've met him a few times before, he's very shy."

"Then why do you think I'll think he's interesting?" you asked.

"He's also very cute."

You blushed, and he laughed.

You'd had a crush on him for a while, and you couldn't tell if he knew, or if he might like you back, but it was certainly clear that he enjoyed teasing you about anything even remotely related to dating. It always flustered you, but he enjoyed that, too.

He opened his mouth to say anything else, but before he could, the door to your room opened and Liz popped her head in.

"Some kid is at the door asking for you," she told Baxter. "I didn't realize you'd officially moved in."

"Thank you for the warm welcome, sis," he said easily, then stood and looked at you.

"Let's go," he said. "That would be the boy of the hour."

He held out a hand to help you off the bed, and, blushing again, you took it. There was that smirk again, but this time he chose to let it go.

When you went downstairs and to the door, you saw the boy had retreated back towards the street, looking uncomfortable. He was tall and gangly with bright green hair and glasses, and Baxter had been right -- he was cute.

"Cove!" your friend called out brightly, leading you over for an introduction. The boy, Cove, held up his hand in a slight wave. He was nervous.

But as awkward as Cove was, he managed to work his way into your cozy little friend group of two, turning it into a trio.

At one point during the summer, you and Cove had exchanged phone numbers. His father -- his parents were divorced and he lived in another neighborhood with his dad -- was much more easygoing than Baxter's parents, so you were able to visit him quite a bit.

You were even invited over for a sleepover, which Baxter had been surprised about. He'd reacted strangely when you told him about it, it seemed -- you weren't sure if he was upset that his parents had never let you stay over, or if it was something about you getting close to Cove. But in the end, he'd put on his old friendly smile and told you to have fun.

When your moms dropped you off at Cove's house, he greeted you at the door and invited you in, as awkward as the day you had met.

"It was my dad's idea, to ask you to stay over," he explained as you made your way to his room to hang out. "Not that I don't want you to stay over! It was just his idea is all."

"Why would he want me to stay over?" you asked.

He turned to face you as you came to a stop in his bedroom, but he kept his eyes down. He started rubbing his arm, a nervous tick you'd picked up on pretty quickly.

"I don't ... I mean, I don't really have many friends, I guess," he said. "My dad wants me to have more. I think he worries about it."

"Why didn't you ask Baxter?"

"My dad doesn't like his dad," he said.

That made sense to you. You didn't like Baxter's dad either.

Cove didn't live in your neighborhood, but he still lived near a beach. You walked there together and spent most of the evening there, and when you went back, his dad had cooked you dinner.

Throughout the day, he had loosened up, but when it was time for bed, he started getting shy again. His father had laid out two sleeping bags side by side on the living room floor, and after you both got into them, he didn't say a word.

"Cove?" you asked.

He didn't say anything. You turned to face him, sure he hadn't been able to fall asleep that quickly. In the faint light coming in from the kitchen, you saw his eyes wide open, and maybe a tiny bit of color on his cheeks.

"Are you all right?"

He turned his head toward you slightly, not enough to make eye contact, and said, "Yeah."

It wasn't very convincing.

It was your turn to stay quiet -- you weren't sure what to say. Then, without further prompting, he turned to face you too. He met your eyes.

"I get nervous around you," he said plainly. "More than other people. That's why I don't say stuff sometimes."

"Oh," you replied. Then, "Why?"

He shrugged, a decidedly non-romantic gesture, but it still tugged at your heartstrings.

He ended up changing the subject, and you laid there together for a long time, whispering about what you'd done that day and what you wanted to do tomorrow, what you wanted to do with your lives. It was nice, and when you finally fell asleep, you thought maybe you could see Cove being in your life for a long time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Five more years went by, and more big changes came with them.

Baxter was your best friend and still your neighbor -- for the time being. You'd graduated high school and were now adults, and you knew he was desperate to get out of his parents' home.

Cove was still important to you, though you'd been seeing him less and less. His father had cut professional ties with Baxter's, and there was a bit of bad blood there. He'd also decided he wanted to go to college to study marine biology, which was no big surprise, but it did mean that a lot of his free time went to studying.

You weren't sure what exactly you wanted to do, but at the beginning of the summer, an opportunity for a quick adventure before diving into real adulthood presented itself, almost literally on your doorstep.

Gossip spread easily in Sunset Bird, and your moms had heard that the newly vacant condo next door to Baxter's house had been rented. They were eager to see who was coming into the neighborhood, but because they had to leave for work before anything happened, they asked you and Baxter, who was almost always over, to keep an eye out.

Baxter agreed before you could say anything. He'd always done anything your moms asked. You thought it was because he was thankful that they'd unofficially adopted him as their third child.

The two of you settled outside on your front step, waiting and chatting idly about some nonsense he'd made up about who the new neighbor would be. He was really getting into the details when a cab pulled up across the street, and a guy who looked to be about your age stepped out.

"This is not what I expected," Baxter whispered to you before letting his mouth hang open.

You watched as the newest resident of your tiny town moved to the back of the car, opening the trunk and easily pulling out a suitcase. He was all muscles and tan skin and had such a big smile as he tipped the driver. The cab left, and the stranger must have felt your eyes on him, because he turned to you then and smiled even wider.

"Hey, neighbors!" he called out, sounding as friendly as he looked. He started making his way over, and you saw bright green eyes twinkling at you.

Baxter stood, sticking his hand out to help you up. You took it, and he used his other hand to smooth his black and white hair.

"My name's Derek," the guy said holding out a hand to you the same way Baxter had when you first met him ten years before. You shook it, and he smiled directly at you before moving to shake your friend's hand as well.

You and Baxter introduced yourselves, then Baxter asked, "So, Derek, what brings you into our tiny neck of the woods?"

"I'm on vacation," he answered. "Well, kind of. I play college soccer, and there's a coach in the city that's really good, I'm going to work with him this summer. My parents wanted me to have an actual vacation too though, so ..."

He finished his thought by gesturing to his condo.

"I see," Baxter said, and you could hear it in his voice already -- he was turning the charm on. "Well, you know what they say about all work and no play. If you ever feel the need to play, don't hesitate to find us."

Ten years of friendship, and Baxter could still make you blush. If Derek was taken aback by his forwardness, he didn't show it -- instead, he laughed openly.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said. You thought you saw him sneak a glance at you as his smile turned smaller, but you weren't sure.

You learned quickly that Derek was serious about his work. He left for long stretches to go into the city for his private training, and you frequently saw him out for runs around the neighborhood.

But he also, it seemed, had taken a liking to you.

One evening, he knocked on your door. You were home alone, so naturally you were the one to answer, and he was there, as always, with a big grin on his face.

"Hey!" he said. "I totally get if you have plans, but if not I thought I'd come check to see if you wanted to hang out?"

"I'm free," you told him.

"Cool. Do you wanna come over?"

When you paused, he quickly continued, telling you, "Oh no, I'm not ... I'm not trying to ... do you like video games?"

A few minutes later, you were sitting next to Derek on his couch, starting up a game of MarioKart.

His composure regained, he said, "I hope you know I'm not going to take it easy on you."

"Why would I think you'd take it easy on me?" you laughed, looking at the tv to choose your character.

"Pretty people always think they can get their way."

That stopped you in your tracks. You glanced over at him, and he was smiling at you.

"You would know," you replied, trying to return the compliment.

As you played, you both found little ways to get closer to each other. Once he scooted over to show you which button to press to do a certain move, and soon after you'd done the same, pretending like you'd forgotten.

After a particularly intense race, it happened -- you finally beat Derek. He'd stayed true to his word and hadn't taken it easy on you, beating you time after time, but now, you'd bested him.

You stood up enthusiastically, cheering for yourself, and ever the gentleman, he stood up as well to cheer along with you.

The next thing you knew, he had his strong arms around your waist, and yours had gone up around his neck. He leaned in a bit, then paused.

"I like you," he said softly, "and I think it would be nice to kiss you. But I'm going back to college in a couple of months, and --"

"A couple of months is enough for me," you told him.

He smiled again, then kissed you. It was gentle and sweet, and over far too soon.

"I'm thinking I should probably make a little bit more time this summer for playing," he said, giving you a smirk that could almost rival Baxter's.

#our life beginnings and always #our life #olba #baxter ward #cove holden #derek suarez #our life baxter #our life cove #our life derek #i cannot emotionally handle how much i love this #imagine the ghost moment with baby baxter #the rv moment with baxter #the boardwalk with cove #mountain scene with derek #DEREK'S GOODBYE ARE YOU KIDDING

[1000roughdrafts]

Dean Winchester X Reader Masterlist

Some of my works are 18+, which I'll write as such here, but please heed the warnings on the individual posts as well - All under the cut :)

One Shots xx

Angst

💙 Us - request: Can you do a deanxreader songfic to the song us by Regina spektor

💙Goodbye ~ After Dean takes on the mark, his relationship with Y/N starts to fall through the cracks. She’s had enough of him taking out his stress on her, and after years of silencing her pain, she finally lets him know why  it’s time to say goodbye.

💙How Do I Become Enough ~Reader and Dean right about her doubts, she feels somewhat isolated and annoyed. No cheating, necessarily, but think along the lines of Dolly Parton’s Jolene  

💙Intrusive Thoughts ~Dean was supposed to visit Y/N while she was at work, but when he didn’t show, she got worried. After finally getting ahold of him, she was relieved to know that he was alive. But when another full day passes by without a word, her mind goes into overdrive about what could have happened to him.

💙Voicemails ~ this is a small, angsty thing, and it is 100000% self indulging so please feel free to just ignore it.

💙 Illicit Affairs - Request from anon based on Taylor Swift’s song Illicit Affairs &lt;3

💙  Promise Me This Is Forever -  this is for @allywritesblog and #allyswriting event, and im using the quote "promise me this is forever" :)

Fluff

💙 Phone Calls With Dean ~ just a random thing I wrote for a story that didn’t pan out, no real plot to this.

💙Shooting With Dean ~ Dean takes you out for target practice, but something else is on his mind.

💙Time ~Soulmate AU, Y/N has had the ability to pause and unpause time for likely her whole life, believing she was the only person with such a power. One day, she learns that not only is that not true, but the other person is her soulmate. 

💙 Salted Baseball Bat - Anon Request: "'They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?' you say as you whack the ghost again."

💙 Criminal - DeanxReader request from @rileynicole1967 based on the song Criminal by Britney Spears

💙 Cat-astrophe Written for @spnfanficpond​‘s unfic challenge with the prompt “I may have accidentally sort of adopted 5 cats.”fluff, stern!Dean, 

💙  Baby Winchester 2021 - Reader finds out she's pregnant, and tells Dean in a cute, fluffy way.

💙  Just Another Day - Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post

Flangst

💙 We're Gonna Get You Through This - reader is triggered back to a horrible memory and explains to Dean why waiting to have sex is best for her. 

💙Currently untitled ~ Request: could you do a deanxreader fic where she goes out on a date (maybe to a bar) for drinks with a guy and towards the end of the night, the guy (you pick the name) starts being rough with her cause he’s drunk and hurts her, then dean finds out somehow and comes over to kick his ass then admits his feelings for her?

💙 A Boring Holy Cross Tattoo - A Fic inspired by Cards Against Supernatural with the cards “Dean has 99 problems but ____ ain’t one.” and “A boring holy cross tattoo”.

💙 Amnesia - Request from @rileynicole1967​ : Deanxreader one shot or series ;) based off the song “amnesia” by 5 seconds of summer but in the readers pov and at the end he comes back for her and it’s all fluffy and cute.

💙 Half a Man - Follow up to the Amnesia request from @rileynicole1967​ - this one takes place the same night as Amnesia, but in Dean’s perspective and based on the song Half a Man.

18 + / Smut One Shots

💙Downtime ~ 18+, smut; After weeks of hunting the same witch, you and Dean decide to take a weekend break, but you didn’t expect what was in store for that weekend.

💙Punishment ~ 18+, smut; After embarrassing Dean at an important dinner, he punishes you with a cold shower.

💙 Size Matters - 18+ Smut DeanxReader request from anon, where reader has a size kink

💙 Poison  -  DeanxReader request from @kaitlaitlaitl​ based on the song Poison by Alice Cooper

Mini Series xx

💙 Movie Monsters Part One | Part Two ~ You’re teamed up with Dean, a man you’ve always found obnoxious, to find out the path of a new monster. Of course, things don’t always go as planned. (Complete)

💙 Never Have I Ever Part One | Part Two  ~ Part Two is pure smut; College!AU - Dean gets jealous of the attention he thinks you’re receiving from Cas during a small party at your house and doesn’t know what to do with it, so he leaves the room to keep drinking. 

💙 Hope is a Dangerous Thing... Part One | Part Two ~ The renowned author of a best-selling crime novel, Y/N Y/L/N, was thrown into a whole new world after her parents were brutally murdered. Their killer never found, Y/N took things into her own hands, meeting the Winchesters in her journey for justice. Even years later, she struggles to let anyone close in fear they’d leave or worse.

💙  i hate u, i love u (1) Slowburn au/Y/N has been in a relationship with Nick for the last 5 years. They’ve had a rough go. There’s been good and bad times, but she finally realizes that the man she thought she loved has been abusing her. Dean offers her a safe haven when she feared she had nothing else. (this may be abandoned, but we will see)

💙Reverse Supernatural  ~ request; “Hi!! I have been tossing an idea around for a bit… What if… Now hear me out… What if the Reader was the experienced hunter and she/he has to save Dean and/or Sam who have never known the supernatural existed…?” (only part one is out right now / ongoing / might also become abandoned)

Series xx

💙Family Secrets ~ 18+ ; Your uncle Bobby, and adoptive father Rufus, had a secret. A secret they never wanted the Winchester’s to find out. They had done a good job of keeping you from crossing their path, but now that they've both passed away there is nothing they can do about the brothers finding out their secret; you. (ongoing BUT I really want to and am seriously considering taking it down to rewrite it - this was the first thing I ever wrote and it's... it shows lol) 2/22/24 A/N: I want to return to this series, but since it was pretty much my first fic ever, I really want to rewrite some of the episodes and make it pace better. I understand that that might not be the best solution, however, so maybe I’ll just add inbetweeners or something. Just know I want to come back to finish it and may change some things along the way 😊

#supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader smut #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader fluff #dean winchester x reader angst #dean winchester x reader flangst #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fan fiction

[rimaiahwrites]

Our secret part 2

Dom!Erik x subblack!reader, dom × sub, smut!, swear words, age difference, big brothers best friend, fluffy kinda, dd/Ig themes but it's never addressed as dd/lg

It was y/n 19th birthday and all her friends and family were over to celebrate her day!

She was Beyond excited, everything was falling perfectly into plan.

Her birthday theme were lemons, there was lemons literally everywhere. She had a Lemon cake, yellow tablecloths and of course for drinks there was lemonade, and to top it all off she had on a cute white princess cut dress with yellow lemons over over it! She had retired the two puffs and settled for one big afro with a cute  yellow Ruben tied around her head, She had light makeup and her lips were glossed and shiny.

She and her best friends dance and Sang along to the lyrics coming from the speaker loudly. Her mother laughed and quickly grabbed the camera- "smile guys!" She told the girls. Y/n put on a big smile and posed.

After dancing and singing their lungs out she were winded and tired. She huffed out air. It was extremely hot out today "I'll be back guys." She told her friends and walked back into her kitchen. Her bare feet slapping against the cold floors.

She could hear her dad and his friends from in the living room watching the game, the smell of beers and the sound of her dads laugher brought a since of comfort.

She grabbed a glass of lemonade and chucked it down... As she did so her mind began to wonder off to her brother...where was he? He was here earlier but he disappeared out of nowhere. A couple of his friends were supposed to come too maybe they had all went to the neighborhood park to play basketball like usual she thought.

Speaking of his friends she was a little bummed that Erik wasn't in town. He had went off to college two years ago and she haven't seen or heard from him since last summer when he had spent the summer with her family.. she thought about him a lot, maybe a bit to much.

"Y/n!" Her brother called from the kitchen door, shirt off and dripping with sweat. Speak of the devil. She crunched her face and plugged your nose shut. "Gross."

"Shut up, who's outside." He asked. She slightly rolled her eyes. "My friends a few of mom friends and mom, don't go out there until you take a shower you reek." She said and fake gagged yourself.

"Alright alright, Get off me I'm going but their someone outside on the porch that wants to see you." He said as he set the ball down and jogged up stairs to freshen up. She were froze for a second. Is it who she thinks it it? Her heart started thumping hard as she shakily set her glass down and pushed herself to walk to the front door. She opened the door and was face to face with the big 6'0 boy- or man now that she had fallen in love with over two summers of sneaky kisses and touches.

Her cheeks grow hot as she walk through the door and shut it.

He towered over her even more now then before. He still smelled good, and for the most part still looked the same...except he grow facial hair. She was shocked.

"Hi Erik!" She squealed as she jumped to hug him. He caught her and squeeze her back as he chuckled.

"Wassup lil mama, I feel like I haven't seen you in so long! I missed you." He said as he set her back on her feet and kissed her on her cheek, making her stomach flutter. "I missed you too! You left us to go back to that bougie college." She said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes jokily. He chuckled. "I know I know I should've came to visit earlier but I was busy you know how it is-" Erik explain before he was cut off be the girl sitting on the porch swing that y/n had completely missed and didn't notice at all. Y/n frown and turned her big brown eyes back to Erik, he bit his lip nervously.

"Oh yeah my bad, Vanessa this is y/n, y/n this is my girlfriend Vanessa." Erik said smiling at the both of them. Her heart slowly sank as her smile softened to almost a frown before she put on a fake cheerful smile.

His girlfriend?

"Hi..." she shyly said to Vanessa before looking back at Erik with sad eyes.

Vanessa glanced at Erik as well but more confused then anything. Erik chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Um well it's nice to meet you y/n and happy birthday! Time moves fast I still remember my 19th birthday like it was yesterday!" Vanessa laughed, making Erik laugh as well.

Obviously It was only three years ago more then likely...

"Thanks...Um I'm about to go in...I'll see you guys later." She said as she back away.

"Actually I'm staying the week with your bother!" Her face dropped once again. Not only today but the whole week? Great fucking great.

"Oh well is Vanessa staying here too?" She said playing with the end of her dress. She had to ask cause if so she would try to stay at one of her friends house or maybe even at her grandmas.

"No, her family live here too she's going to stay at her aunts place." She hummed in response before Turning around and going back into the house.

"She's...weird." Vanessa said scrunching her face. "Chill, she's just not used to new people plus nobody told her you were coming to her birthday party." Erik said as bit annoyed with Vanessas comment. She rolled her eyes and sat back down as they wait for her bother to come back down.

As she walked back into the kitchen her eyes were glossy and red. She didn't want to cry she really didn't but the tears were forming and her throat was starting to feel tight.

Her birthday was going good why did he have to ruin it.

-

After she opened her gifts, ate her cake and cleaned up it was time to go to bed.

Her friends had went home and she tried her best to pretend like Erik and Vanessa wasn't there but Erik just kept on talking to her so it was bad to be mad at him but it hurt so bad to watch him and his girlfriend be so playful with each other and all lovely. She sat on his lap the whole time and it was eating her up inside. She was jealous and weren't very sure if she should be but she couldn't help it.

Erik was her first love.

Y/n parents and brother had all went to bed hours ago, it was now 1:25 in the morning and her stomach ached from being empty.

Y/n got up and put on her slippers,  pulled her night gown down over her butt and stepped out of the room, closing her door softly.

She snuck down stairs and made her way to the kitchen. pouring herself some of the lemonade that her mom had made earlier.

"Why you up so late little one?" You heard from the door frame making you jumped spilling your juice down your soft pink gown. Y/n frowned looking down at her gown. "Don't worry about it, you ain't my daddy." She hissed pouring the rest of the lemonade in the sink. Erik's eyebrows raised a slight smirk on his face. "I see you got a mouth on you now huh?" Her face didn't move from the frown. She definitely didn't find anything amusing about this right now.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she made her way towards him to leave the kitchen...but he stayed in place.

"Move."

"I'm just trying to talk to you princess why you being so mean to me? I haven't see you in so long." She cross her arms across her chest. Now was not the time. "Erik move I don't want to talk."

"is it because of Vanessa? You jealous?" He chuckled. He thought this was funny clearly. She was hurt because of him and here he is laughing at her, right in her face.

She tore her eyes from his looking at the other side of the kitchen as the tears came filling her eyes, her bottom lip trembling. "Th-that's funny to you? Erik you hurt my feelings and you think it's funny? What the fuck is wrong with you? You played with my feelings and made it seem like you l-...loved me Erik," she said choking on her words now looking at him.

hot tears streaming down her face now. Erik's face dropped when he saw her tears. "Y/n, princess.." he sighed looking at her through his eyelashes, she hated that she thought he looked so cute right now and the way that the little pet name he gave her a couple years back still made her tummy feel warm and tingly...It all started with a silly game to this...

"baby you know we can't be together, I'm away in my second year of college and you haven't even graduated high school yet, you my best friends little sister I can't date you-"

"But you can fuck me right? Is that all I am to you? Just a fuck doll-"

"No no princess-"

"Stop calling me that!" You whispered yelled at him pocking him in the chest.

"You were just using me because I was naïve! Erik you made it seem like you actually liked me...like you loved me! You told me nothing would change when you went to college but then showed up to my birthday party with a girlfriend I had no idea about!" Her tears still streaming down her face. Erik really had nothing to say, she left him speechless, but what could he even say?

"I guess it is partly my fault also for being so stupid to even think you would like me like that huh?" Erik so badly wanted to tell her how he felt but it would only cause more damage and leave her thinking y'all could be more then what they were, in the end she would only get her hopes up again and end up with her feelings hurt.

He so badly wanted to grab her and Comfort you.

"Good night Erik." She pushed past him and headed back up stairs.

Y/n grabbed her teddy bear off her bed and crawled into her Secret room, shutting the door behind her. She turned on her fairy lights and it lit up the small room just enough. She snuggled into her blankets, and cried. She cried her little heart out.

Who would have known her brothers best friend would be the reason for her broken heart.

Why did he have do this to her on her birthday at that...

The day was soured all because he didn't even consider her feelings nor seem like he cared in the slightest.

He had that girl smiling all in her face like he wasn't fingering fucking her all last summer, sharing sweet kisses and cuddles, like he was sharing deep parts of his past to her. Her heart ached so badly that she had to grab it tightly as she cried into her teddy, this wasn't fair.. this wasn't fair at all she shouldn't be crying right now but she felt so betrayed by someone that showed her how to love, how to make love, how to feel loved..

She sank deeper into her comforter and let out soft gut wrenching sobs.

Her first heart break was her big brothers best friend, how naive of her.

-

this not the end yall im gonna write a part three ❤️

for some reason I thought I finished this and posted it already.  also I'm way more active on tumblr so if you wanna follow I'll love that, I'm going to be writing about a few of my favorite anime characters too so if you fucking with that follow @rimaiahwrites !!

P.s I still have a deep love for writing yall and wanna finish these projects but life been LIFE'N THESE PAST COUPLE YEARS IM SORRY 😭❤️

#black panther killmonger #erik killmonger #erik stevens fanfiction #erik stevens fic #erik x oc #dom x sub #killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #killmonger imagine #killmonger x oc #killmonger #killmonger smut #killmonger fanfiction #king killmonger

[king-krisu]

Kinda cringe to do this so late but I've finally had a moment of peace after christmas and I am ALSO feeling soppy and emotional so here goes:

I know every post in this fandom ever has said that this feels so one-of-a-kind and different from any space they've been in before, AND I'M GONNA SAY IT AGAIN! I have never thought of a tag on tumblr as a sort of weird little family where we all exchange ideas and works of art and memes, or ask questions like it's a community notice board. The friends I've made both here and on tiktok mean the world to me, and I'm so grateful we've created such a community here where people are easy to approach and to maybe get to know on a deeper level. Maybe it's the christmas cheer yay but even if we've sometimes disagreed on some stuff, I couldn't care less right now, I've never been part of a more wholesome community than this.

Käärijä, and Jere as a person, has made me so much more confident than ever before, and I've done things I never thought I could bcs of him. I'm so grateful for such a figure like him in our music scene right now, especially a male figure, who doesn't dismiss his queer/female fanbase and does whatever he wants. His message of kindness not only to other people but also to yourself has helped me SO MUCH over this year. I've never talked about this publicly but the night of the ESC finale when I heard people SCREAMING his name, and lyrics in my native language, I started sniffling like a baby from shock. I've never been particularly proud of my roots, but Käärijä has made being and speaking finnish cool, and none of us have ever seen anything like it here.

To all of you who learn our language, take the time to listen to other finnish music, watch finnish media and maybe even visit our country: thank you. We hope it's been fun and even if all of you move on to other esc artists in the next season of it, we are so grateful for this small moment of recognition. Genuinely, we're so happy people appreciate our culture on its own for once <3 we won't ever forget this.

I hope you've all enjoyed my stupid little translation videos/posts, and that they've been helpful/entertaining in any way lol. I'll admit that ever since I made deeper friendships here I haven't been as active, so if I ever miss an anon please just ask again and i'll get to it! I can't wait to meet some of you who are coming here next summer to see Jere, hopefully by then he's seen sense and hired me as an in-house interpretor for all you fäns from ader kantri. And even if you can't travel here or to any of his other shows: i love you all so much <3

#käärijä #jere pöyhönen #feeling SOPPY #tbh i feel the same about JO but the K tag is my home and bread and butter so #special post for y'all #V LONG POST LMAO SORRY

[matthewtkachuk]

one day all my love will come back to me

Spending a mid-degree gap year in the guest bedroom of your best friend who you’ve been in love with for ages seems to be a recipe for disaster until a hook up with a player from a visiting team threatens to change your future forever 

pairing: nathan mackinnon x reader; brayden point x reader

warnings: creative liberties taken with the 2021-2022 regular season schedule and the availability/contributions of Brayden Point during the 2022 playoffs, typical angst associated with a love triangle with a hint of unrequited love, sexual themes (not quite smut but more than implied) and the usual (alcohol, swearing, etc.)

word count: 10.9k

a/n: surprise @senditcolton i'm your summer exchange fic writer! i'm so so so sooooo sorry this is late, @wyattjohnston and i were having a hot girl european summer and it's not an excuse but a bit of an explanation. when i saw you had written brayden point twice in your players list, i knew it was time to dust off this fic idea i had last year and do her proper justice. i hope you like it!!! shout out to demi for the many "replace c with C" suggestions on google docs and @thomasschabot for the other suggestions. ok i'll shut up now, enjoy!!

The Avs are up by one with thirty seconds to go and you’re pretty sure you’re going to puke. It’s a good thing everyone is far too focused on the action going on at ice level to question why your gaze keeps bouncing between the good guys and a certain forward on the other team. It’s such a strange feeling—you want with your entire being for your boys to hoist the Cup, but there’s a small part of you that never wants to see the boy on the other team you care for so deeply, so upset. He was right, you both crossed the line past hooking up a long time ago. 

-

“You look hot.” 

In any other circumstance, those words from Nate would have your heart going into overdrive. As it stands, your heart is already pumping at a rate you fear is not healthy while you lie on a trampoline with your niece’s sprinkler set up beneath it. For every bitter complaint you’ve ever had about a Canadian winter, the opposing heat waves might just be slightly worse.

“A/C’s broken,” you say like that explains everything. 

Nate hums in response like maybe it does before pulling himself up beside you. 

Somehow the air around you feels even hotter, precipitation building at your hairline. You fuss for a minute, wiping away the sweat before dramatically slapping your hands down on the trampoline in protest. 

Nate ignores you, choosing to instead cheerfully proclaim “This is nice!”

“What do you want?” you ask in response. There are layers to your grumpiness, but for now you can pretend it’s all related to the unbearable heat.

“Can’t a guy visit his best friend?” 

You can feel his eyes on you, but you keep yours closed. “Not when it's 34 degrees out and humid as hell and he has to leave his air conditioned mansion to do so.”

“I saw your story and I was coming to invite you to my air conditioned mansion.”

“Is Sidney home?” Your tone is so much more nonchalant than you feel. It doesn’t matter that the aforementioned man went from Nate’s childhood hero to mentor to near-brother; it will never not be weird to have but one degree of separation from the man who’s name is on your town’s welcome sign. 

Nate laughs like he can read your mind, but you still don’t glance over at him. You don’t need to, not really. The image of him beside you comes all too easily to your inner mind. His hair’s got a wave from the humidity, his nose tinged red from the hot sun, and his chest golden and chiseled and harlequin romance novel cover-esque— 

“You know one day you’re going to have to get used to being around guys who made it to the show. Hell, I'm a guy who made it to the show.”

Finally you turn to look at him and he’s somehow even more beautiful than you’d just imagined. “That’s different Nate. You’re….you.”

He smiles at you and it’s brighter than the damn sun causing you so many problems today. “And Sid’s just Sid. And the guys in Denver are just the guys in Denver.”

His words have your nose scrunching and you promptly go back to laying flat on your back. “Don’t remind me.” There’s silence for a beat or two and then you continue, “Speaking of, are you sure it’s still okay—“

Nate doesn’t let you finish this time. “Yes, I’m sure it’s okay for you to hang around my apartment in Denver while you take a year off from school to figure out what you want to do.”

“Thanks Nate,” you reply and he hums in response. Abruptly you sit up, sliding a little from the slick trampoline surface. “Your A/C offer still standing too?”

He grins this time and you’re damn near blinded. “For you? Always.”

Sidney—Sid waves at you both from his kitchen when you pull up to Nate’s but that’s as far as it goes. Nate makes a joke about banana bread that you don’t quite get, mood souring considerably when you wonder aloud if he thinks Sidney will bring some over. 

It’s all forgotten when the cold air hits you as you enter the lake house. 

-

The summer passes by quickly without too much incident—just the nagging of your mother about your future and your own tiptoeing around the feelings you have for your friend. 

On one of your and Nate’s last nights before leaving for Denver, your niece pulls him aside and sternly instructs him to bring home the Cup for her. 

He laughs, but there’s something in his eye that says he means it when he says he will. That intensity doesn’t waiver, even as his gaze slides toward you. It has you thinking about a future by his side, celebrating those moments with him in a way so much greater than you do now. 

The thought doesn’t leave you as you kiss your family goodbye, trying desperately to not let any tears shed at the thought of no longer being a small distance away. Nate’s constant near proximity and the promise of more of it takes away the sting a little, but you fall into your sister’s embrace that little bit more all the same. 

Even as you do a final check of your things—two large suitcases, a carry-on and a backpack to house everything you’ll need for the next year—you think about it, of what it would be like to do this every year. What it would be like to pack with the intention of unpacking your things beside Nate’s in his closet. It’s silly, but sometimes you still feel like you’re fifteen years old, realizing you’re in love with your best friend as he goes away to the same hockey school as his idol. 

Two flights full of self doubt and Nate sleeping on your shoulder later you’re convinced spending your impromptu gap year at his place is a bad idea. But then he’s smiling and ‘welcome home’-ing you and you step through the door.

-

Unemployment and a mid-twenties life crisis isn’t so bad from the guest bedroom of a lavish semi-detached in the suburbs of Denver. The bed’s softer than the one in your childhood bedroom. Bigger too. And the closet leading into the attached en-suite has no business being the size it is. 

There are downsides of course. You are still unemployed and in the middle of a life crisis. Nathan is woefully unaware of your feelings and likely to never reciprocate. His teammates look at you like they know, though. And there’s the whole banning of any food that brings any modicum of enjoyment that you’re not entirely sure is serious or not. 

The teammates that come around are kind to you when you’re around them enough to let them be. A small part of it is the intimidation of them being professional hockey players but they’re good guys and you’ve met many of them before. Really, it’s something more akin to the inherent uncomfortability of your predicament. It’s Nate’s house and you’re free-loading. 

Of course he would argue differently if you voiced your thoughts and hang ups but that’s precisely why you don’t. 

Nate may have never caught onto your feelings for him, but he’s not an oblivious person. That’s probably how you end up in the family box, being personally invited to brunch with the Better Halves by the best-half-in-charge herself, Mel Landeskog. 

You find yourself nodding despite the anxiety of the possibility of making new friends, certain it’s less of an invitation and more of a demand. 

She tells you as much, pressing a mimosa into your hand when you arrive at a cute restaurant and a table full of beautiful, predominantly blonde women. If Nate’s teammates were intimidating on a personal level, their wives and girlfriends are a whole other level. Never in your life have you been so surrounded by a group of women so put together—every outfit perfectly on point, every head of hair treated to an expensive blowout, every foundation shade perfectly matched or worse, no makeup needed. 

It has you self-conscious, despite having spent ages picking out something to wear and trying to tame your hair into something presentable. The mimosa helps, and so do the compliments from Ashley Kadri. Little by little you open up, and by the end of brunch you have a killer buzz and a dozen new instagram followers and numbers in your phone. 

When Nate picks you up, the bubbles have gone to your head. You spend the entire ride back to his place with the back of your head pressed to the passenger side window so that you can grin stupidly at his side profile. 

“The girls are great,” you tell him with a silly giggle. His returning smile reeks of satisfaction of a job well done, but you don’t focus on it. “We’re gonna get dinner this week too!”

-

Although Mel takes you under her wing, it’s Heidy, Cale’s girlfriend who you instantly click with. 

She’s every bit as beautiful and kind as the rest of them, but you connect with her on a different level. It’s almost like you’ve known her as long as you’ve known Nate. She shares your love of Taylor Swift and gets your jokes and is more than happy to let you bounce future career plans off her. 

You can tell the girls have questions about your relationship with Nate, and truthfully they can get in line behind you. Sometimes, when you’re not careful, it almost feels like you’re not alone in how you feel. Sometimes it feels like you’re high school sweethearts, playing house on the precipice of a greater future. 

Nate doesn’t help it himself though. It’s you he calls on long road trips, you he pulls into a giant hug outside the locker room before driving you both home after a game. You who is invited to WAG functions as a connection to him—both informally in a social context and more formally and broadly. Things like charity toy drives and the family box at games. A part of you fears the possibility of playoffs—especially with odds so clearly in the Avs favor—and what it would mean to be so publicly claimed as Nate’s while privately remaining the way you always have been. 

It’s Heidy who you confide in. She’s always there to offer her ear, her shoulder, her opinion. And, although she encourages you to share your feelings, she also knows when to back off and let you do it when and if you’re ready. 

You don’t think you’ll ever be ready. 

-

With Christmas comes the Better Halves Christmas Tree Auction. It’s Mel’s favorite charity event of the season, she tells you gleefully. 

“Every event is her favorite,” Suzanna says behind her back later. 

Designated Favorite Human of the Avalanche Children is usually your favorite title, but it means you have one kid hanging off of you when the girls drop the bomb on you. 

“So what are you thinking for your WAG tree?”

It’s an innocent enough question, especially when you think it’s aimed at one of the aforementioned WAGs in the family box. Only when there is no response do you look up and realize it’s meant for you instead. 

“Sorry, what?”

“Your…Tree,” someone says slowly and you shake your head. 

Your tone and words are almost as flustered as you are. “No I heard you. I’m just—What do you—Why are you asking me?”

“Well, Nate said…” 

It all comes clear. Yet again, you’re expected to play the part. At great personal cost, mind you. It’s a mindfuck and a half, having to do all the things that you do for a man you love when it doesn’t mean anything. 

Your thoughts are invaded with a tempestuous mixture of Nate and your relationship or lack thereof and yet another public acknowledgement. 

Truly, you wonder if the others in the box pity you or laugh behind your back. 

“C’mon,” Heidy says later, when the final buzzer sounds, cementing another win. “I’ll drive you home.”

“Nate’s,” you correct weakly. 

She nods and repeats his name, grabbing your arm and leading you away. 

-

You’re stewing in silence when Nate comes home. 

“You okay?” he questions upon finding you in the living room, lit up only by the light filtering in through the large bay window. 

The twitch of your eye is the only indication you’ve heard and recognized his words for a long moment. You can practically hear the gears whirring in his head, can feel the moment he’s about to speak again. 

Not wanting to give him the opportunity, you ask, “Why?” His brows furrow and his head tits and so you continue. “Why did you say I would do your Better Half tree?”

“It’s for charity…You love charity work.” Nate visibly relaxes and you understand why. He’s not wrong, engaging in charity work has been a big part of why you’re not wallowing in self pity, but this isn’t just simple ‘charity work’ and you tell him as much. 

“I love toy drives and helping at the soup kitchen and adoption events at the ASPCA. This is different, this is your WAG tree. It means something. It’s in your name, like I’m—I’m—“ you can’t bring yourself to say it. 

“Everything you mentioned you do in my name.” He doesn’t seem to get it, frustrating you further. 

“It’s not the same, Nate! All those other things I do as part of the larger group. It’s all facilitated by your team and your teammates ‘Better Halves.’ Their wives and girlfriends. They’ve all made me feel welcome, but I'm not one of them. This implies that I am one of them, but I’m not your girlfriend and certainly not your wife.”

“You basically are.” The phrase has your heart jumping into your throat. Of every daydream or fantasy you’ve ever allowed yourself to slip into, you never dreamed this would be how it all went down—“Without actually being my wife or girlfriend.”

“Right.” Your voice is short and clipped, masking the hurt quickly overtaking you. You won’t cry—you’re stronger than that. So strong in fact, that you lay down a firm boundary. “I won’t do it. Get Sidney to do it or something.”

“Okay,” he says slowly, pausing and then asking, “We’re good, right?”

“Yep.” You feign nonchalance and then wish him a good night. 

The pillow holds all your tears and secrets. 

-

The incident sticks with you, despite your many attempts to shake it off. Even Heidy can’t help. She tries anyway. 

You’re not his. 

But you are. You’re his and you have been for years now. Since he was leaving for school. Maybe even many years before that. Regardless of the true beginning, it doesn’t quite matter. What really matters is this: you’re not sure it will ever have an ending, but you’re almost certain if it does, it won’t be the one you want. 

You’re his but he’s not yours. 

Part of him is, sure, but you share that part with the other residents of Cole Harbour. The other part with the team and his teammates and their families, with the fans and the haters alike. The part you so desperately want to be yours has belonged to many a woman, but never to you. 

It was a lot easier to live in the space between his childhood best friend and everything more when you were separated the majority of the year. A summer chock full of other things to do and focus your attention on to keep the longing at bay and enough distance for the rest of the year to forget how it feels to have him near without really having him. 

One of Heidy’s distraction schemes involves hitting up downtown Denver a few nights later. 

“But it’s Thursday,” you say when she shows up at Nate’s dressed up like she’s ready to hit the bar. 

“I have tomorrow off and you don’t have a job, so,” she replies. 

You frown, “Ouch.” She throws a look your way as if to not take it so personally and continues perusing your closet. “I’m not really feeling up to going out tonight.”

“Too damn bad,” she replies. “You can’t just sit here and wallow for the rest of your life.”

“Watch me,” you retort but start to get up anyway. 

She smirks and tosses some clothes at you. “Get dressed and do something with your hair. I’ll do your makeup.”

“Where are you guys going all dressed up?” Nate questions when he spots the two of you in the foyer. 

“Out.” Heidy is curt, a consequence of her not only being a good friend to you, but also her own awareness of his behavior. 

His brows knit together but he soldiers on, “Do you want company?”

“Nope!” She’s much more cheerful now that she’s handed you your coat and bundled herself up. “Don’t wait up!”

Heidy drags you out to Cale’s car, where the man himself sits waiting. You instantly feel bad—between your protesting and actual time spent getting ready, he’d been sitting a while. 

“Have you been here the whole time?” you ask as you get in the backseat. He shrugs with a rosy smile as Heidy pushes you in further and takes a seat beside you. After pressing a quick kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek over the center console, of course. 

Cale doesn’t stick around after dropping you both off—a wave, a ‘be safe’, and ‘call me when you’re ready to go home’ and he’s gone. 

You’re terrible company admittedly, mouth set in a deep frown that doesn’t crack even as you sip your drink. Heidy does most of the talking at first, blabbing away about everything and nothing. Until she sighs, slaps her hand down on the bar top and says, “You need to deal with this. Either you need to resolve things with Nate or you need to get over it, distract yourself with something or someone else.”

You nearly choke on the last of your drink. “Gee, Heidy, could you be any more subtle?”

“I’m worried about you.” She’s so earnest it tugs at your heart. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll try. Really.” 

She smiles, relaxing into the seat at the bar top. 

Just then, the bartender sets another drink in front of you. 

“I didn’t order another,” you state politely, attempting to hand back the drink. 

The bartender shakes his head, motioning to the table in the corner as he speaks. “From someone at that table.”

It’s a group of athletic men, but only one is looking your way. He’s all intense eyes framed by intense eyebrows, but the look on his face doesn’t match the intensity. It’s…intriguing to say the least. Soft but confident, and definitely interested. 

It’s not until one of the other men at the table elbows him that you realize they’re the team playing the Avs tomorrow night. 

Quickly you spin back around and whisper to your friend, “Someone from the Tampa Bay Lightning just bought me a drink.”

Her eyes widen and she herself turns around quickly to get a glimpse of your admirer across the bar. You grab at her arm and bring her back to face the bar top. 

“Heidy!” you hiss. 

“Sorry!” she replies, “What are you going to do?”

You think about it for a second before throwing caution to the wind. Putting on your flirtiest smile, you turn around a lot more gracefully this time. Raising the gifted drink, you tilt it in a ‘Cheers’ motion before wrapping your lips around the straw for a sip. He responds with an identical gesture, although with an amber colored beer bottle instead. 

Satisfied, you resume your earlier position while Heidy speaks. 

“When I said you needed a distraction that is not what I meant!”

You roll your eyes. “It’s a drink, not a marriage proposal. Relax.”

She does, until you pull her out to the dance floor with eyes only for the man across the bar. Lucky for you—and less lucky for Heidy’s resting heart rate and blood pressure—he’s got eyes for you, too. 

It only takes half a song for him to approach and introduce himself. “I’m Brayden.”

You smile and reciprocate, waiting a beat for Heidy to speak too, but she just tilts her nose up. An elbow to her side doesn’t get her speaking and so you introduce her, too. 

One of Brayden’s eyebrows raise and you find yourself momentarily mesmerized by the action before quickly explaining, “Big Avalanche fans.”

He nods slowly once, then shrugs. “Maybe I can change that.”

“Doubtful,” she says under her breath, but if you heard it, you imagine Brayden did too. 

She doesn’t thaw any, even as the song changes. Nor does she get the hint to take herself elsewhere and so you rather pointedly ask if she can go get you both another round. 

Heidy isn’t even able to get out whatever she was ready to grumble before Brayden is offering, pausing to ask what Heidy is drinking. She begrudgingly tells him and he disappears. 

“Seriously? You could have any guy here and that’s who you go for?” she asks. 

You shrug, “He’s the one I want.”

She softens at your earnest tone. “Okay.”

“Call Cale,” you tell her. “Go curl up on the couch and watch TV together or whatever you would have done if you weren’t worrying about me.”

“I don’t know…”

“Go. I’ll be fine. And I’ll text you if I need you,” you confirm. 

She sighs. “I’m waiting for my drink first.���

You laugh and pull her into a side hug. “Love you.”

True to her word, she finishes the drink Brayden brings her—even managing a ‘thank you!’—before slipping off into the crowd and, you imagine, into her boyfriend’s car. 

Brayden looks a little concerned at her rapid exit. “Did I do something to make her leave?” 

“Besides playing for the wrong team? Nah.” 

He doesn’t look convinced, but the concern fades when you wrap your arms around his neck. 

It’s all but gone when you press your lips to his. 

You dance for another few songs and another drink before your inhibitions are just low enough to drag him in the direction of the bathrooms. 

The men’s is empty when you enter, and so you flip the lock on the door and press yourself against him. 

He reciprocates, crowding you against the door with his mouth hot on yours. 

Your whole body lights up at his touch, coming alive beneath his fingertips. There are no thoughts of Nate or the predicament you’ve found yourself in, just Brayden. 

His hands are curved around your jaw, and your leg is wrapped around his waist when he pulls away. “Wait...wait.”

“You don’t want…?” You’re not drunk, just a little bit more sensitive to rejection than you usually would be. 

“No that’s—That’s not it at all. I want you, like, really want you.” He kisses you, and as good as his touch feels, being wanted feels that extra bit more. “Not like this. Not here.”

Truthfully, you’ve never been the kind of girl who lets someone hit and quit in a bar bathroom before. Or anywhere really. A part of you that you thought was long buried stirs inside of you and you realize for the first time in a long time you’re feeling something for a man who isn’t your best friend. 

Your best friend. Shit. “I have a kind of odd living situation right now, my place isn’t an option.”

“Your parents?”

You bark out a laugh that he immediately covers with his mouth. “No, they’re back in Canada.”

“Your husband? Your boyfriend?” He’s joking, but you can’t help but get the sense there’s an ounce of worry that he’s right. It’s such an inconceivable notion that Nate could ever be either to you that you laugh again. 

“No, I just live with a friend who probably won’t be understanding about a strange man in their house.” 

Brayden visibly relaxes, pauses, and then says, “I have a hotel room…you’ll have to be quiet though.”

“I can be quiet,” you reply, barely hiding your smirk. 

You try your best, really give it your best effort, but no one has ever touched you like he does. 

Nate doesn’t cross your mind once. 

-

You sneak out early in the morning, determined to not have a semi-public walk of shame in front of an entire hockey team. It’s almost a success until you run into his captain in the lobby. Feeling your face grow hot, you give him a little nod and escape to the waiting Uber. You can only hope he doesn’t get too much shit, telling him as much using the newest number in your phone. 

You’re not nearly as lucky, facing the firing squad that is Nate as you slip into the entryway. It shouldn’t be a surprise to see your best friend awaiting your arrival, if the several messages that popped up when you’d finally opened your phone to send the aforementioned text to Brayden were any indication. 

“Where have you been?” he asks and you have to keep from rolling your eyes. 

“Out,” you say, calling back to Heidy’s response last night but he doesn’t accept it as easily coming from you. 

“All night?” he continues the interrogation. 

“I crashed at Heidy’s last night, what’s with the fifth degree, Dad?”

He looks like he was waiting for this moment as he replies, “No you didn’t, I talked to Cale.”

This time you do roll your eyes. “It’s none of your business, Nate.”

“It is my business if you’re under my roof,” he says, doing his best impression of your father for real this time. 

You know it’s not his intention, but your stomach drops all the same. The old feeling of guilt and shame and failure floods your veins, and you can tell he notices. 

“I’m sorry,” he offers, “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just worried and you didn’t answer my messages.”

“I know,” you say but the words taste bitter in your mouth. “I’m going to go get some more sleep. See you later.”

He repeats the words back at you, but you’re more focused on the buzzing phone in your pocket. 

Safe in Nate’s guest bedroom, you slip into something more comfortable, get beneath the covers and open your messages. 

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Got fined

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Probably going to get chirped for a month

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Worth it though 

You: I would tell you I’m sorry but I’m not 

Bar Guy 💙🤍: Me either

-

If you thought that was the beginning and the end of Brayden you would be sorely mistaken. 

Long distance flirting becomes a long distance hook up becomes him flying you out to see him. Any time you protested the latter, you’d find a non-refundable ticket in your email and a ‘please’ in your text messages. 

Fall fades into Winter and Bar Guy 💙🤍 turns to Brayden turns to B 💙. As your feelings for him grow, you find thoughts of Nate as anything other than someone-you-grew-up-with fade. 

You come clean about the ‘friend you live with’ being Nathan MacKinnon before the first time you fly down to see him, worried that your lie by omission might be a dealbreaker. Brayden only laughs, he figured Heidy’s hostility was more than just motivated by more than sports team loyalty. 

The thing about Brayden is he never makes you feel bad about Nate. He is understanding and gracious, never demanding, never unreasonable. A small part of you sometimes thinks about how if the roles were reversed, you don’t think Nate would be quite the same. 

Initially unsupportive and apprehensive, Heidy comes around, although her persistence turns from telling Nate how you feel to telling Nate about Brayden. You don’t do either, and she keeps your secrets. 

Nate being selected for the All Star Game in Vegas while Brayden isn’t brings a unique opportunity for a week straight in hot, sunny Florida. The chill of Denver isn’t quite as biting as back home, but you’re excited to escape it all the same. 

He doesn’t ask you to join him in Vegas, but you do wonder if he thought he didn’t need to. 

It doesn’t matter either way, when an errant high stick in overtime breaks his nose and dashes his All Star dreams. 

Your first thought upon seeing him bloody and disoriented on the ice is that there is no way you can go to Florida. 

It probably looks much worse than it is, the girls try to reassure you in the box, but you’re not convinced. 

Nate’s reassurances later don’t do much either. Not with his face puffy and bruised and some dried blood on his chin. 

It’s not until he assures you that his mom and sister will be coming down to Denver since they had the time off anyway that you decide for sure you will go. 

The day you leave for the airport, his pathetic form on the couch is almost enough to have you last minute cancelling on Brayden. 

Nate all but demands you don’t miss out on his account, asking that you ‘be safe’ and ‘have fun’. 

In return you hit him with a ‘thanks Dad’ and ‘take it easy’ despite knowing just by virtue of who he is as a person he will be doing the exact opposite.  

Thoughts of Nate, broken and bruised, haunt you the entire journey. They don’t fade until you’re in Brayden’s arms. Even then, it’s a dull ache that you do your best to ignore. 

Evidently you don’t do a very good job of hiding it, or maybe Brayden just knows you better than you think, because he catches on before you’ve even reached his place. 

“You okay?” he asks, gently squeezing your knee where his hand rests. 

Turning to look at his side profile, so earnest and sweet, you don’t even think of lying. 

“I’m worried about Nate.”

“I get that,” he says and you wonder if he truly does. “I’m glad you’re here with me though.”

Smiling at him, you are too, and so you try to push down the guilt and focus your attention on the man you’re with. 

You check on Nate periodically throughout the week, never getting much more than a thumbs up emoji, but at least you know he’s alive. 

Brayden wines and dines and, well, you know the rest of the rhyme. 

By the time the week is up, you don’t want to leave. It’s strange how meeting one person can change things so drastically. Before Brayden, you would never have dreamed of spending a week with another man when Nate was injured and possibly may have needed you. 

It also puts things into perspective for you. 

Really emphasizes how much additional emotional labor you put in—and were expected to—in your relationship with Nate. The lines and boundaries had long since blurred, and it took dedicating your time and energy to another man to see it. 

If Nate notices the way you pull back even further when you return, he doesn’t say anything about it. 

-

Falling for Brayden is easy. It’s a gentle float down to the ground, landing among a field of flowers to catch your fall. A stark contrast to the free fall of being pushed from an airplane at 10,000 feet by Nate. 

Where Nate’s sharp edges have cut you time and time and time again, Brayden’s curves wrap around you and hold you tight. 

When you’re not physically with him, you’re texting and calling, and when you’re not doing that you’re thinking about him. 

Neither of you make any move to define the relationship further, but it doesn’t sting like the years of being strung along by Nate did. It’s probably because while no words have been exchanged to that effect, Brayden lets you feel how much he cares for you. 

-

You’re nearly found out late in the regular season. 

Something about Tampa has started to feel familiar and safe—you try not to think about exactly why that is—and so, despite the knowledge that the boys are in town, too, you’re not as careful as you should be. 

There’s an ice cream spot near Brayden’s that you’ve taken to frequenting. As a consequence, it’s also near the arena. 

Because it’s so close, you decide to walk there, teasing him the whole way about how one ice cream cone won’t derail his nutrition plan. He’s arguing back, but you know it’s in vain because his sweet tooth and the lilt of your voice will win in the end. 

Your hands naturally brush as a result of your close proximity and you take the opportunity to link your pinkies. He smiles softly and you walk in silence for a minute until he breaks it. 

“You really won’t let me give you my jersey?” It’s a question that has come up before, but every time it does you wonder if it’s a little bit more serious of an ask than the last. 

“I’d rather die. Maybe if you were a better hockey player,” you tease, jumping back to avoid his grasp. 

He gasps playfully, thick eyebrows raising with his wide eyes. “Take that back right now.” He takes a step closer to you but you dodge his advances, sliding to the other side of the bench. 

“Sorry baby, you know I bleed blue and maroon. Wouldn’t be caught dead in traitor blue.” Not to mention you’d never ever hear the end of it from the boys if someone saw you in it. 

He fakes left and you fall for it, giggling madly as he wraps you up in his arms and scrapes his beard against your cheek. “What about just for me?” he asks, kissing your neck once and then nipping at it with his teeth before pulling back to look into your eyes. “In my bed with nothing else on?”

It’s like the already beautiful temperature rises even higher when he presses his mouth to yours. You give in quickly, pressing onto the tips of your toes to get even closer. It turns dirty quickly, his tongue in your mouth and his fingers buried deep in your hair. 

And then a familiar voice calls your name. 

You pull from Brayden like you’ve been burnt, a look of pure panic crossing your face as you realize you know the body attached to the voice. 

It’s JT and he looks like been standing there long enough to figure out what’s going on. 

“JT—“ you start to explain, but pause. There is no easy, simple explanation. There are months and months, hell years and years, of backstory and layers to even get to this point. 

“I thought—“ He appears to change his mind, stopping his thought mid sentence and switching to a question. “What’s going on here?”

“Brayden and I are, well, we’re.” It’s a struggle to explain what you are to one of Nate’s teammates when you haven’t had this conversation in full with the man beside you. Finally, you land on “We’re together.”

You don’t look over at Brayden to see his reaction. 

“How long?” is the natural follow up. 

It’s another tough question, but you decide to go with the first time you met and slept together. “Before Christmas.”

“Does Nate know?” he asks. The wild look in your eyes must give you away because he signs and says your name. “You have to tell him.”

You get that, really you do. But at the same time it’s your business what you do and who you do it with, not Nate’s. At the same time, you know it would be a really shit thing for him to find out through someone who isn’t you. 

Beyond that, you’re pretty sure right before playoffs isn’t the right time to have that conversation and you tell JT as much. “I know, I will. After the season I’ll tell everyone.”

JT looks less than convinced. 

“You know Nate, it wouldn’t do anyone any good while the season is still going on. Please, you can’t tell him.”

JT might be as aware as you are of who Nate is as a person, and he’s certainly more aware of who Nate is as a hockey player and so he agrees despite his clear hesitance. “Promise me, after the season.”

“I promise.”

When he’s gone, Brayden finally speaks up. “You want to go public with us?”

You worry you’ve said the wrong thing, starting to babble about how you’re sorry the conversation didn’t occur privately first, and how you don’t need to go public if it’s not something he wants to do when he silences you with a kiss. 

“I want to tell everyone,” he says earnestly and you kiss him again.  

JT thankfully keeps his word. 

-

Nate doesn’t watch any other team in the playoffs. 

It makes trying to catch Brayden’s games tough, sneaking out to sports bars, watching games on your phone in Nate’s guest room, even flying out to watch a couple home games during the run. 

The only supportive merch you sport is a necklace with his number, and on occasion a little blue and white lacy number under your clothes. You’re not offered a WAG jacket—whether that’s due to Brayden knowing well enough you don’t want to be that public or because your reaction to the style of jacket itself was less than positive. 

In the back of your mind you recognize there’s a chance it could come down to the teams of the boys you care for most; one Eastern Conference, one Western Conference. 

Selfishly, when the first round between the Bolts and the Leafs goes to seven, part of you hopes for it to end right there. Most of you is glad they push through. 

On Colorado’s side of the playoff bracket, they absolutely rip through everyone who stands in their way. 

You are offered a jacket with Nate’s name and number in glitter, but you turn it down in favor of a lucky baseball cap, though you do accept an unpersonalized crop from Madison. 

Some of the girls decide to travel for the away games. You have to turn them down because there are already tickets with your name on them to see Brayden. There’s no way you can—or would—miss any Avs home games, and so instead you end up being one of a handful of supporters in the likes of Toronto, Miami and New York. 

It’s a difficult balancing act as the playoffs progress in both teams’ favor. 

And then your worst nightmare comes true. The quest for the Cup comes down to your… whatever Brayden is to you and to Nate and the team you’ve supported since he was drafted and all the other people who have come to feel like family. 

Whispering to Brayden in the dark of night before the Finals begin, you tell him, “You know I support you, but…”

“It’s okay,” he whispers back, even though he has no reason to match your tone all alone in his home in Tampa. “I get it. As long as you still like me, you can like them a little bit more.”

You giggle, “It’s got nothing to do with liking you, you dolt.” 

“Bolt,” he corrects, and even though you can’t see him you know he’s smiling. 

“Oh my God, shut up.” You don’t mean it literally but he’s quiet for a second too long. “No matter what happens I’m proud of you.”

For two people who have never properly defined nor publicized their relationship, it might be too heavy of a moment, but his quiet thank you is laced with emotion. 

“Go to bed,” you say after another few beats of silence. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The first two games are in Colorado, and the boys take both at home. 

“Ain’t over til it’s over,” is both of your boys’ philosophy after the first two. 

Nate is positively buzzing, especially after so decisively winning the second, but still cautious—very aware of how quickly a 2-0 lead can turn into the end of the line and empty hands. 

Brayden is also cautious, and this isn’t his first or even second rodeo at the Cup final in as many years. You try to kiss it better in a random hallway in the bowels of Ball Arena. 

Finally accepting the Better Halves’ invitation to travel to road games, you have a good seat to Tampa taking back some momentum in game three before promptly handing it back to Colorado. 

You die and come back to life a dozen times in game four as Brayden and his team hold on. 

Game five is to be played back in Tampa, and you spend the night before the game in Brayden’s bed instead of the hotel Nate has paid for. “Good luck,” you whisper against his lips early in the morning before you leave to meet the girls for breakfast. 

“You don’t mean that,” he teases, stretching out in such a way that has you considering skipping breakfast—certain teasing and interrogation be damned. 

“Good luck to you,” you amend, kissing him once more. “Your team can rot.”

His laughter rings in your ears as you leave. 

Mel corners you after breakfast, a familiar offending piece of clothing in her hands. “This could be it,” she explains, offering you the jean jacket. 

If it were any year previous, you might have worn it. If you didn’t have Brayden, you might have worn it. If Nate had offered it to you himself alongside a confession, you might have worn it. 

None of these things are true, and so you decline. “I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”

Her smile has a twinge of sadness and understanding as she replies, “Okay.”

-

Sitting alongside the girls in the box with your cropped sweater hiding the 21 necklace around your neck, you’ve never felt more torn. 

Brayden’s captain nets one early in the first, and you’re not sure you breathe again until Nate’s powerplay evens the score early in the second. There’s an undercurrent of excitement in the box alongside the nervous energy. Midway through the second, Arturri tips it in and Amalie Arena is silent. 

It stays like that for the rest of the period until you excuse yourself to grab a drink at intermission. Standing in the long drink line, you spot a little girl in a Point jersey and your stomach twists as you think about how no matter which way this ends, someone you care for will be hurt. 

That feeling doesn’t leave as you sit through a scoreless third period. The arena gets loud with Bolts fans throughout, celebrating every blocked shot and turnover. That intensity picks up in the dying seconds of the game as Brayden picks off the puck in the defensive zone. 

He rushes up the ice flanked by his linemates, but is momentarily stopped by Cale. 

He gets his stick back on the puck and your nails dig into the leather arm of the box seat. Suzanna grabs your hand, assuming it’s worry for her boyfriend and his teammates and you let her think that and hold your hand. 

Three seconds. 

Two seconds. 

He shoots right as the buzzer sounds and Darcy gloves it down like there was never a question of him stopping it. 

The entire box explodes in a chorus of cheers—there’s shouting, swearing, crying, laughter and you’re right in the middle of them all. Your boys are Stanley Cup Champions. 

Someone grabs you, and then someone else joins in and suddenly you’re in the middle of a dog pile. “They fucking did it!”

You’re so fucking excited, incredibly proud and honestly a little weepy about your favorite people finally getting their hands on their childhood dream. But, a bigger part of the organ in your chest than you want to admit aches for the downturn of Brayden’s head as he skates back to the bench. 

An attendant appears and wrangles the rowdy bunch down to the ice. You’ve got Linnea Landeskog in your arms and a giant grin on your face as your feet touch the ice.

“Down please,” she politely states while trying to wriggle out of your grasp. The second she’s down she’s running at her daddy who sweeps her up in his arms. 

And then Nate’s on you in a way that you used to long for when you were younger. He’s red and sweaty and out of breath but none of these things stop him from hauling you up into his arms and spinning you until you smack at his chest, demanding to be let down much like Linnea only minutes ago. 

He stops spinning but he doesn’t let go, staring up at you with a look he’s never given you before. You’re so caught up in the excitement of it all you barely notice, grabbing his cheeks and shouting in his face, “You fucking did it!”

“We fucking did,” he says like he can’t believe this moment is happening—whether that’s due to you in his arms or the Cup that will now bear his name no one can really say. He kind of looks like he’s about to do something stupid, leaning in ever so slightly, and so you finally succeed at leaving his arms, slipping slightly as you reach the ice once again. Brayden is watching from across the ice, a sad look on his face that you just want to kiss off. You don’t though, just pat Nate on the back once and continue moving, throwing yourself at Cale, then Burky, then Mikko.

It’s a blur of celebrations and photos with the Cup—you even let Linnea convince you to take a photo with her and the Cup, her mom remarking that it looks good on you. When you pull from your photo pose, you give her a questioning look. “A baby and a cup,” she smirks, blatantly looking over at Nate who seems to agree. 

You laugh nervously—last year that was all you wanted, the boys to win and Nate to want you in that way. Now? Now you can picture it still, you just picture it with someone else. 

Finally, you’re able to sneak away and Brayden has the same idea, telling you to meet him in a closet by the locker room. No words are exchanged as he pulls you in by your hips and kisses you like he needs it to breathe. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him and you mean it. 

A crinkle forms between his eyes. “No you’re not.”

You kiss him again once, “I’m not sorry the boys won tonight, but I am sorry it was against you.”

“There’s always next year.” It’s far more flippant than you had anticipated, really you thought you’d be dealing with an upset Brayden and that might have broken your heart. 

“I thought you’d be more upset.”

“Can’t win ‘em all,” he says and you give him a look to be serious. “So what, we didn’t win the Cup this season. I got you, didn’t I?”

“Fuck off, dont be stupid.” Your cheeks are hot and your eyes are wild. 

“I mean it. I’d take you over the Cup nine times out of ten.”

“What about the other one?” 

“Need to win another one for us to put our future babies in.”

“Awfully presumptuous for a hook up.” 

“This is so much more than a hook up.”

“Yeah,” you admit, sinking deeply into another kiss. 

“Besides,” he pauses, “Already got two rings.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Okay I gotta go. Will you come get me later?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid to ask, like he’d go into the pits of hell itself for you without hesitation. “Of course. Now go. Celebrate. I’ll see you later.”

You slip out first, making sure the coast is clear and go find the others. A Stanley Cup Champion hat is placed upon your head and a bottle of champagne in your hand. There’s a celebration in the visitor locker room and then the party moves to a local bar. 

Someone shells out the money for a few bottles of vintage Dom Perignon that you indulge in, but mostly you just relish in the happiness of everyone around you. If you’re honest, you spend a fair amount of time avoiding Nate who has a serious look every time you catch him staring. 

Shortly before midnight, you slip out of the bar and into Brayden’s waiting car. The bubbly must have gone to your head, because you forgo any verbal greeting in favor of launching yourself over the center console to press your lips to his. 

He pulls away and very somberly states, “I can’t take you seriously in that sweater.”

Looking down, you spot the Avalanche crop and laugh as you pull it off and toss it in the back. “Better?”

He hums, fingertip tracing the chain around your neck from your clavicle down between your breasts to reveal his number on the pendant. “Much.”

You sink back into another kiss before remembering where you are, who you’re with and what you’re doing meanwhile the bar you just left is crawling with people you’re not quite ready to come clean to just yet. 

“Take me home, Bray,” you say as you relax back into the passenger seat. 

You don’t have the power to bring your lover the Stanley Cup your friends were just drinking out of. All you have to offer is yourself, but he accepts it with as much gratitude as your best friend accepted the Cup earlier. 

Later, he looks like he wants to ask you to stay, and you think you look like you want him to. 

In the end, it doesn’t matter as you fall asleep next to him and somehow make it back to your hotel room in the morning with no one the wiser. 

-

Nate spends a few more weeks in Denver after the win, celebrating with the guys and riding the high of winning it all. You only spend a couple days and then move out of his house and back into your parents. 

You don’t tell him about Brayden, content to let Nate enjoy his successes. 

As a consequence, you don’t see much of him in July or August. Even when you’re both home, he’s busy with all his other friends and his family, and you’re busy with your niece and deciding on what to do in the fall. You’ve determined the best course of action is to finish your degree and then apply to a masters program in order to change your career path. 

The choice, then, is where to do so. You can stay at home, commute an hour each way into the city—supported by your hometown friends and your family. Or you can make the shift to Denver for real, with your found family and with Nate. Or…

The University of Tampa Bay has an excellent program. You know from your time visiting Brayden through the season that the university is right around the corner from Amalie Arena and Brayden’s. It’s awfully presumptuous, but you find yourself daydreaming about the possibility much like you used to daydream about a future in Denver. 

Of course, there’s an entire continent of possibilities, hell an entire world of possibilities, but these are the three most attractive options. 

There are many discussions to be had, and choices to be made. You don’t want to do either until you’ve had a chance to speak to Brayden in person, but just as Nate’s had a busy summer, so too has he. 

He messages you every morning before and after working out while you’re still asleep. Every conversation eventually devolves into some combination of ‘I miss you’ and ‘when can I see you?’ 

You do manage to spend a few days with him in the Rockies mid-July that fly by far too quickly. Every time you leave Brayden it gets harder and the implications of it all have your stomach in knots when the thought crosses your mind. 

-

It all comes to a head spectacularly the day before Nate’s day with the Cup. You’re at Nate’s, helping to prepare for the post-parade celebration when you’re called away by his sister. She wants your help deciding on which photos to display—it’s a mixture of past and present alongside an elementary school assignment two decades old wherein Nate declared his future profession would be ‘Stanley Cup Champion.’

You’re smiling, lost in the memories when Nate comes crashing into the room you’re in. There’s an indiscernible look on his face, but it reads somewhere between anger, frustration and hurt. The look on your face betrays your confusion, and it only deepens when you see your phone in his hands. 

“What are you doing with my phone?” you ask. 

His jaw ticks. “Thought it was mine.”

It doesn’t really do anything for your confusion. If anything, it deepens it. “What’s your problem Nate?”

“This! This is my problem.” He finally cracks, shoving your phone in your face to reveal messages from Brayden—under the contact name of the letter B and a heart—wondering when you plan on making the trip to Calgary to see him. Your stomach drops and your heart feels like it’s at risk of falling right out your chest. It was always going to come out, but especially as you crossed the line between sharing body heat with Brayden and sharing your secrets, hopes and dreams. 

That being said, it is a shit way for your relationship to come to light for sure, but you can’t help but feel your friend is overreacting. Sarah is looking between the two of you, panicked and frozen like she doesn’t know what to do. 

“I think your mom could use some help in the backyard, Sar,” you say gently, and she gladly takes the opportunity to flee. Once she’s gone, you turn on Nate. “I’m sorry that you found out this way, but you had no right to come in here like that. Poor Sarah looked terrified!”

He looks at you incredulously. Now that his sister is out of ear shot, he appears to have allowed himself to lean into his emotions a little more. “I have no right? What about you? Hooking up with some random guy in Calgary? Is that where you’ve been running off to these past few months?”

You know that this is probably the least important part of his rant, but you feel the need to clarify. “He’s not just some guy, Nate. His name is Brayden. And for the record, no. I wasn’t in Calgary, I was in Tampa.

He looks confused in addition to enraged, and so you put the pieces together for him. “I’ve been seeing Brayden Point.”

“You’ve been sleeping with the enemy?”

“Are you joking?” 

This is not your friend Nate. This is some angry being inhabiting the body of your friend Nate. 

He doesn’t back down. “It was between us and them in the final, pretty sure that qualifies as the enemy!” He pauses for a second and then continues, “How long have you been sleeping with him? During the final? Were you rooting for him instead?”

“Nate—“

“No, don’t Nate me. I bet you were, I bet you wanted them to win, him to win. I bet you were sitting there in the family box, using tickets I paid for, against me the whole time.”

“That’s not fair!” you try to interject, despite the tiny grain of truth to his words. It would be untrue to say some small part of you wanted Brayden to succeed, but your loyalties have always been with Nate and his team. 

“Don’t bother. I wouldn’t trust a thing you said right now. Not after this. Not when you know.” 

“Know what?” you question. 

“How I feel! About you. And me.” The blurred edges start to come into focus. He’s been acting like a man scorned, because in his eyes he is one. 

Unable to form any coherent thought, you repeat yourself from earlier. “Are you joking?”

He’s less angry now, slipping further into the hurt brewing under the surface. “It’s always been us. Since we were kids. And now you’re messing around with some guy on another team. I can't believe you!”

The tears start to pool at your waterline, but you’re too stubborn to let them fall. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that? You string me along for years and years and years, expecting me to play the part of your girlfriend without being your girlfriend and to wait around for you to figure it out. I am sorry you found out like this, but I’m not sorry about him. I’m not sorry about Brayden.”

He flinches at the sound of Brayden’s name, the anger clouding his eyes even further. “You want him so bad, why don’t you go to him right now?”

“Nate—“ You’re not sure he knows what he’s saying, what the implications of all he’s said really are. What it would mean if you left for Calgary this afternoon. What it would be like if you weren’t there tomorrow to join in his celebrations.

“Go.” When you don’t move he speaks again. “Get out of here.”

He hasn’t raised his fists or even his voice, but you do as he suggests. Calmly, begging the tears not to fall, you walk right out of his house and get in your car and you drive. 

Brayden picks up when you call while driving, and there’s a ticket in your inbox before you’ve even made it home. 

A short layover in Toronto—and with nothing but the clothes on your back and a small carry- on—later, you’re sinking into Brayden’s arms. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, but you shake your head where it’s buried in his chest. 

“Thank you,” you say, leaving hundreds of words unspoken in your gratitude. 

The kiss he pressed to your lips and the way he says ‘Anything for you’ tells you that he understands. 

He’s got his own place in an affluent suburb of the city, and you’re grateful for the fact that you won’t have to see anyone else with your puffy, bloodshot eyes. 

The last time you’d cried this hard, it had been over the loss of your childhood dog. Nate had been there then, flying in after a late game to hold you while you cried. Maybe you had misunderstood his feelings for you, missed the signs he thought he had laid out so clearly. Maybe that would have mattered a year ago. 

It doesn’t, now. 

Not when Brayden’s arms feel like home. His warm gaze feels like the sun. His kiss and his touch feel like heaven on earth. His love feels like everything you’ve ever wanted. 

Your world nearly stopped in Nate’s living room, but it resumed spinning here in Brayden’s bedroom. 

You’re curled up on his chest while he soothingly runs a hand along your spine when you tell him. “I love you.”

His hand stills on the middle of your back, but you don’t panic. Your mind and heart are clear and in unison. He doesn’t make you wait long, cupping the back of your head and tilting your head back ever so slightly so that your eyes meet. 

“Yeah?” he asks like maybe he needs the validation. 

“Yeah,” you reply, giving it to him. 

The grin on his face might be worth everything you’ve been through. 

You squeal as he flips the both of you, ending in a position where his arms bracket either side of your head in order to keep from crushing you with his full weight. 

“I love you,” he repeats, kissing every inch of your exposed skin. 

Tangling your fingertips in the hair at the nape of his neck, you say it again and again and again. It’s a chant and a ritual, told between sighs and moans and whimpers. He strips you of your clothes, taking you apart piece by piece and then putting them all back together. 

It is intimate and sweet as he takes you to the highest peak, hearts and limbs and minds all intertwined. There is no doubt, no insecurity, no hesitation. All of the love you have to give is reflected back at you. You and Brayden are two sides of the same coin, destiny and fate and all the good forces in the world have brought the two of you together. 

That’s why when, in the dark of his room later, you say yes when he asks you to move in. 

-

Despite the apparent suddenness, your family is more than supportive of you and Brayden. Though that may be because he charmed the pants off all of them the following week when returning to your childhood bedroom to pack your things. 

Your niece is delighted when she learns that Brayden’s “job is hockey!” as she so sweetly declares, requesting he win her a Cup too. 

It reminds you of Nate and how you haven’t heard from him. You don’t reach out either. 

Your time in Calgary is short, punctuated by the bittersweet news that although many of your credits will transfer over, you’re not able to start college classes at the University of Tampa until the second semester. 

“Now you can come with me on all my road games,” Brayden says when you tell him. 

“Fat chance.”

Training camp sneaks up on you both and before you know it, you’re making the permanent move into Brayden’s bedroom and his life, publicly this time. 

The Tampa WAGs are sweet and welcoming, but you find yourself missing the Colorado Better Halves. That’s probably why you agree to dinner with Heidy the first time in the season that the Avs are in town. 

You make plans to meet at a cute spot downtown near the arena. 

The minute you spot Nate waiting outside, you start to turn around. Not so much as an Instagram like since the day before his day with the Cup and now he’s at one of your favorite restaurants in Tampa like everything is okay?

“Wait,” he says and for some reason you do, pausing mid turn. “I’m sorry.”

That’s enough to have you turning back around to look him in the eye as you scold him. “Really? I haven’t heard a word from you in months and that’s what you have to say?”

“I know,” he says. 

“You were really shitty Nate! You knew how I felt and apparently felt the same way, but you just took advantage of me and my feelings for you for years! And then, you made me feel like trash for falling for someone else.”

“I know,” he says again. 

“Can you say literally anything other than I know?” you say exasperatedly. 

“I—“ he starts and stops with the look you give him. “I don’t have a good explanation for the first bit. You’re right, I’ve been taking you for granted for a long time. I don’t know, I guess I was just scared to lose you if we ever crossed that line.”

“I get that,” you reply. “Why do you think I never said anything either? I’m less mad about that and more mad about you being a giant asshole about me meeting someone.”

He nods. “I know. I was jealous and hurt and I lashed out and hurt you too. I never meant for it to get like this, but the longer it took for me to reach out and apologize the harder it seemed. I am really sorry, and I’m happy you found someone who treats you the way you deserve.”

It’s a sincere apology and one you’re certain he means. Beyond that, you just miss your best friend and so you throw yourself at him in a big hug. He’s startled, but very quickly wraps his arms around you too. 

“Things aren’t magically okay, you really hurt me, but you’re my best friend and I’ve missed you so much. There’s been a million times where something happened and I wanted to tell you about it, but couldn’t.”

“You’re my best friend,” he says. 

Nate scores a goal during the second period of the game but it’s not enough for the Avalanche. 

Brayden comes home the clear winner to find you curled up in his bed. First he undresses and then he slips into bed beside you. 

“Glad you made up with Nate,” he says, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“Glad you won,” you reply, feeling the way his lips curve in a smile against your neck and knowing he’s about to say something stupid and cringe. 

“In more ways than one, baby,” he laughs, caging you in with his arm as you struggle to get away from him and his bad jokes. “In more ways than one.”

Despite the way you playfully try to escape his clutches, the truth is you feel like you’re the real winner. 

#nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #nathan mackinnon fic #brayden point fic #shelb writes

[teddypickerry]

Hi!! if you’re still doing requests would you do a loralie gilmore x fem reader one? maybe where they bond over liking metallica (sorry chris lmao) and their friendship turns into a relationship?

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐍.

pairings — fem! reader x lorelai gilmore

word count — 876

warnings — literally just fluffy + flirty lorelai

a/n — first of all, never apologize to chris. secondly… WHAT UP MFS (saying that like i didn’t disappear off the face of the earth for a hot min) hope this tiny little blurb did you justice, i thought it was just cute. love you guys. thank you for messaging me + sending requests lately. you guys rock.

THE TOWN OF STARS HOLLOW was on the brink of Autumn, yet the sun was mistaking the New England town for a tropical paradise. Except the sun didn't accept the idea of paradise. Not with the continuous heat waves that had the town meetings cancelled and air conditioners blasting. Not a single long sleeve in sight despite it being the first day of September.

"This feels like a joke. This has to be a joke, right?" Lorelai Gilmore mutters as she walks down the side walk, fanning herself with her hand while trailing around in her heeled boots that felt like personal hell. Her best friend, Sookie, stood to her right wiping the bead of sweat from her forehead. "If it is, this is the cruelest joke ever."

The two regretted their walk from the Dragonfly Inn almost instantly and that thought only deepened as they walked the towns streets. Luke's seemed so far away and they were ready to give up.

"Watch out!" A voice called from the town square, as the two woman turned to see a ball coming in their direction. Lorelai moved out of the way and Sookie quickly followed, the ball nearly taking out their necks. A woman came jogging over and stopped with a quick glance at the two of them, grabbing the ball and tossing it into her arms. "Oh, sorry. That kid is not ready for soccer tryouts.”

Lorelai locked eyes with the woman who stood before her, wearing a pair of sneakers with shorts and a cut-up Metallica t-shirt. She looked like she somehow didn't break a sweat. Despite her athletic efforts. "Where did you come from, the freezer section?" Lorelai asks.

The unknown woman rubs her lips together before motioning over to the kid standing in the grass across the road. "My niece has shitty aim," She says with a quick smile.

"Well we can't all be... a… soccer player," Lorelai mutters as she realizes she doesn't know the name of a singular athletic star.

"Are you new around here?" Sookie asks the girl curiously as she searches her purse for her sunscreen. Y/N only nodded in response, "Just visiting my sister. She owns the boutique down the road."

"Oh yeah, I like going in there. It's like an episode of The Twilight Zone. I never know what's gonna happen in there," Lorelai chuckles as the woman only nods along. "Cool t-shirt, by the way."

"Metallica fan?" Y/N asks as she eyes her for a moment, noticing the pink tank top with a puppy on it. She found it hard to believe that this smiley woman would be fond of Kirk Hammett.

"Great band," Lorelai nods.

"They know how to play a tune or two," Y/N comments with a quick smirk making Lorelai smile. Clearly enjoying their little talk and what Y/N said next. "It's not too often I run into a pretty Metallica fan."

Lorelai smiles sweetly at those words making Sookie have to hide her smile of excitement with her hand. Before making an excuse to leave the two alone. "I'm gonna head to Luke's before I become bacon out here... nice meeting you."

Y/N gives her a nod as she walks past her, leaving Lorelai stood infront of her and only her. "Yeah, I'll meet you there."

She tossed the ball back over towards her niece who went back to kicking it around the gazebo. Lorelai's eyes still on her as she did so. Enjoying her figure in the summer clothing. "Well I should probably get back to her..."

"Yeah," Lorelai gives her a nod as she breaks out of the trance and looks over at the kid. "She's a cute kid."

"She is," Y/N nods as she gives Lorelai another look once her head turned. "Listen... I'm gonna be in town for a while."

"Oh?" The Inn owner says, obviously too awkward to mumble out something witty as per usual. Y/N nodded before licking her lips. "Yeah, I'll see you around?"

"Yep. It's Stars Hollow; we see everyone and everything. Not in a creepy way... but in a like, we're always looking. God, that sounded very opening scene of Halloween," Lorelai smiles awkwardly before chuckling away her nerves.

"Great movie," Y/N comments with a quick smile as she glanced down at the empty coffee cup Lorelai was holding. Questioning why she was on her second cup of hot coffee on a day like this... but noticing the sharpie'd name written on the side. "…Lorelai."

Lorelai furrows her eyebrows with another soft chuckle. "So you're stalker Michael Myers."

"No, I'm just a girl who can read," Y/N motions to the coffee cup with a nice smirk. Lorelai feels a grin grow at that as she looks over at the woman. "I'll see you later, Lorelai."

"You too, Y/N." Lorelai hums as she watches her head toward the street before turning to her with a confused look. Lorelai only grins as she starts walking to the coffee shop, "I can read too."

Y/N thinks for a moment as she crossed the street and walked back over to her niece. Noticing the ball by her feet. 'Property of Y/N Y/L/N'

"Well, damn."

#teddypickerry #gilmore girls #lorelai gilmore #lorelai gilmore x fem reader #lorelai gilmore x reader #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano #rory gilmore #rory gilmore x reader #luke danes #gilmore girls fanfic