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daeniradraconis · 3 months ago

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High on Love - Jack H.

Hey lovelies! 💖 I know I promised to work on Age is Just a Number and my Auston Matthews fic, but an idea for a story about Jack being high on pain meds after surgery popped into my head, and I couldn’t resist writing it first! But don’t worry, the others are definitely coming soon!

I hope you enjoy reading it! ✨

For more fun: masterlist

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Jack stirs, his lashes fluttering against pale skin. He looks exhausted, the painkillers keeping him soft and pliant, his limbs heavy against the hospital bed. A slow, lazy smile spreads across his face when his bleary eyes land on you.

“Babe,” he sighs, his voice thick and warm, like honey. He reaches for your hand but completely misses, his fingers clumsily grasping at the air before falling back to the sheets.

You take his hand gently, threading your fingers through his. “I’m right here, love.”

Jack just stares at you, utterly smitten. His pupils are wide, his hair a mess, and there’s an almost childlike wonder in his expression. And yet, even like this, completely drugged out and ridiculous, he’s still stupidly handsome. It’s almost unfair.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs. “My pretty little girlfriend.”

You giggle, rubbing soft circles against the back of his hand. Yep, he’s definitely still high as a kite. “Thank you, baby.”

Jack’s brows knit together suddenly. “Wait. Are you real? Or am I… dead?”

Ellen sighs from the chair on the other side of the bed, watching all of this unfold with thinly veiled amusement. “She’s real, Jack.”

Jack’s head lolls toward her, his sleepy eyes blinking in surprise. “Mom?”

“Yes, Jack,” Ellen says patiently. She looks tired, but there’s something else in her expression, too. A tenderness, a quiet fondness, like she’s looking at her baby boy rather than her fully grown 23-year-old son.

Jack stares at her for a long moment before his eyes suddenly widen. He turns back to you, gripping your hand with what little strength he has.

“Babe. We got caught.”

Your stomach drops slightly. He can’t mean—

“What?”

Jack swallows hard, looking genuinely panicked. “She knows about us.”

You exchange a glance with Ellen, whose lips are already twitching with laughter.

“Jack,” you say carefully, “we’ve been together for three years. And, sweetheart, your mom caught us five months in. She’s known for a long time.”

Jack shakes his head furiously. “No, no, no. We were in spy mode. No one was supposed to know.”

Ellen snorts. “Jack. I caught you a long time ago.”

Jack frowns. “No, you didn’t.”

Ellen exhales sharply, rubbing her forehead like she feels a migraine coming on. “I walked in on you two.”

Jack tilts his head, eyes clouded with confusion. He looks far too cute to be taken seriously.

Ellen’s voice grows exasperated. “In your kitchen, Jack. You were barely dressed. And your father was with me. We saw you.”

Jack looks at her like she’s lost her mind. “Mom. Be serious.”

“I AM SERIOUS.”

Jack just blinks at her, completely unconvinced. “Nah. Didn’t happen.”

Ellen groans, rubbing a hand down her face. “Oh, for the love of—” She turns to you, confused. “You remember, right?”

You bite your lip, your face heating at the memory. “I definitely remember. It was the most embarrassing moment of my life. Jack, you didn’t have pants on. And I didn’t have anything on top.”

Jack squints at you, gaze searching. Then, suddenly, his expression softens, a slow, lazy grin tugging at his lips.

“I just remember how hot you look naked.”

Ellen groans again. “Jack, concentrate.”

You sigh, smoothing your fingers through Jack’s messy hair. “Baby, I think the pain meds are making you a little loopy.”

Jack hums, leaning into your touch like a lost puppy. “Love when you call me baby.” His lips quirk up at the corners. “Say it again.”

Ellen shakes her head, an incredulous but affectionate smile tugging at her lips. “And here I was, worrying that all those times you hit your head on the ice had done some real damage,” Ellen sighs. “Turns out, all you needed were painkillers to go completely off the rails.” She pushes herself up from the chair with a smirk. “I’m getting a coffee. You two lovebirds enjoy this little moment.”

She barely makes it two steps before Jack’s entire face lights up.

“WAIT.”

You both jump.

Jack gasps dramatically. “WHERE IS LUKE?!”

You and Ellen share a confused look. “Jack, you’re not at home, darling. You’re in the hospital. Luke’s with the team, playing.”

Ellen pinches the bridge of her nose. “These drugs are brutal, Y/N. He’s completely lost it.”

Jack squeezes your hand, looking so heartbreakingly lost that you almost feel bad for laughing. “But I want Luke! He’s the best roommate.” His voice is full of pure, unfiltered adoration. “And he’s so smart. Like, genius-level math smart. He knows how to do derivatives, baby. I don’t even know how to spell that. And his hair? So curly. So perfect. It’s—” He pauses, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s unfair.”

You and Ellen barely manage to hold back your laughter as Jack scowls, grumbling under his breath about “stupid, unfairly perfect genetics.”

“You’re really jealous, aren’t you, Jacky?” you tease.

Jack nods aggressively. “YES. And he’s taller than me. It’s messed up. I’m the older one. I should be the taller one.”

You smile softly. “But you love him, not right?”

Jack sighs. “So much.” His lip wobbles slightly. “He’s my best friend.”

Ellen tilts her head, amused. “Quinn’s not gonna like that, Jack.”

Jack gasps, eyes wide with panic. “Ohh, don’t tell Quinn that, Mom!” Then he turns to you. “Babe, Quinn is so cool.”

You bite back a laugh. “I know, sweetheart. I met him.”

Jack nods with absolute conviction. “No, no, you don’t understand. He’s not just smart—he’s brilliant. Emotional intelligence, problem-solving, all that deep, psychological stuff. And he can cook.” Jack’s eyes widen as if this is the most shocking revelation of all. “Like, really cook. Not just toast or eggs—actual meals. And don’t even get me started on his skating. He’s the smoothest, fastest, most effortless skater I’ve ever seen. It’s like he was born on the ice.”

Ellen arches her brow. “Best skater, huh?”

Jack looks deeply offended. “Mom. I’m serious. And you know he’s the best swimmer.”

You blink. “What?” You are seriously confused now.

Jack nods solemnly. “Like, if hockey wasn’t his thing? He’d go Olympic mode.”

Ellen sighs. “Jack, Quinn swims, like, twice a year.”

Jack gasps. “Lies! Mom, you don’t even know your own son. Shame!”

Ellen turns to you with an exaggerated sigh, giving you a knowing look. “You know, Y/N, with the way he keeps crashing all over the ice, it’s only a matter of time before he ends up permanently concussed. So… be prepared.”

Jack pouts. “Mom! I don’t even fall that much. That was so mean.”

Then, suddenly, he grips your hand tighter, eyes shining. “Babe, can we get a dog?”

Ellen groans. “Not this again.”

Jack gasps dramatically. “Mom, I don’t live with you anymore. I’m an adult. This is a decision between me and my partner.” He turns to you, nodding with conviction. “Two golden retrievers. And I’ll teach them to play hockey.”

Ellen pulls out her phone. “I cannot wait to tell Jim, Luke, and Quinn about all of this.”

Jack gasps. “Mom, no—”

“Oh, yes,” Ellen smirks.

Jack pouts, turning to you, desperate. “Babe, you won’t let them make fun of me, right?”

You just grin, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “I don’t know, Jacky. You did just deny our entire relationship.”

Jack’s face falls. “Oh my God. Are we still together?”

You burst into hysterical laughter.

Ellen sighs dramatically. “I’m so leaving,” she says, heading toward the door.

Jack lets out a contented sigh, sinking deeper into his pillow, his eyes locking with yours as he gazes at you with an overwhelming sense of love. "But this is amazing news," he says softly, a smile tugging at his lips. "Because one day, I'm going to marry you."

Your heart melts. “Oh, baby…”

Ellen pauses at the door, looking back at the two of you. “You know what? You should have your wedding in Michigan. The lake house would be the perfect spot for it.”

Jack’s eyes light up, and he looks at you with excitement. “Yes! And Luke can be my best man. Quinn can be yours. So they won’t fight. He loves you like a little sister anyway. You’ll be beautiful in your dress. And I’ll cry at the altar the moment I see you.”

Ellen rolls her eyes dramatically, just like Jack usually does, but the smile on her lips betrays the amusement she’s trying to hide as she exits the room.

You groan, dropping your head onto Jack’s shoulder as your heart swells with happiness. "Just so you know, I’ll hold you to that promise once you’re finally clean from the drugs."

Jack just grins, his eyes fluttering closed, as he drifts back to sleep, completely at peace with the world.

#jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes imagine #jh86 #jack hughes fic #jack hughes #nhl imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #lh44 #jack hughes blurb #nhl blurb

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starmocha · 4 months ago

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The Deep Sea [Rafayel + Son ★ 970 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] A little boy stays up late waiting, insisting he needs his lullaby before he can sleep. A/N: Finally, I managed to get the first story out for Rafayel and his son. Thank you to all of the Raf anons who have been infesting my ask box with papa Raf asks lol you all managed to break my writer’s block with him. This particular ask was the one that did it for me. <333 Happy birthday to our precious, whiny fishie 🥹💖 Tag list: @lavlynyan @miudle @alfredosaws @solifloris @nezuswritingdesk @valkyyriia @natimiles @yourlocalcatscammer @callilypso @likewhyareyousoobsessedwithme @qyuin 【 request to be added 】

He yawned again.

“It’s past your bedtime,” you told the little three-year-old toddler curled up on the living room couch clutching his favorite Briny Narwie plushie. He peered up at you with a pout, and you sighed helplessly as you crouched down to his eye-level next to the couch. You pointed at the clock on a nearby wall and said gently, “See that little hand? It’s approaching ten. You were supposed to be asleep at eight. Almost two hours ago.”

“But Daddy promised me a lullaby!” the boy whined, clutching his plushie tighter as his lips quivered.

You sighed again. “Your daddy has an important art show tonight,” you explained to the toddler, “You know how upset Uncle Thomas gets when your daddy doesn’t go to these events.”

“I know…” he said softly. He looked up again, his voice pleading, “But Daddy said he would come home soon to sing me my lullaby!”

You smiled softly, sympathizing with your son. You also knew that right at this moment Rafayel was also miserable at his art show, preferring the company of his family over the pretentious crowd that flocked to see his works. He had insisted that he would only stay for an hour at most to satisfy Thomas’ expectations, but it had now been at least three hours since you were expecting Rafayel to arrive home.

You settled on the couch, sitting next to your son who had been adamant that he would not go to sleep until he had his lullaby, but for the past hour, you had watched the toddler dozed off several times before jerking awake, his resolve weakening with each passing second.

“You know, Mommy can sing you a lullaby, too. Rock—” You barely got the first word out before your son pressed two small hands to your mouth, covering it as he gave you an annoyed pout.

“It’s not the same!” the little boy whined, nearly on the verge of tears. He plopped back down in his seat and hugged his plushie tighter.

You couldn’t refute this. Rafayel had been singing to his son Lemurian lullabies of a time gone by since the little boy was still in your womb. It had been a nightly ritual for several years now, and rarely would Rafayel ever skipped it. You yourself was also fond of his singing, his ethereal voice always ensnaring you under his spell, spiriting you away to another time, another place.

“Okay, okay,” you said to your son, reaching out to wipe away the tears that brimmed at the corners of his eyes. You smiled softly again, your arms spread apart. “How about you snuggle with Mommy then while we wait for Daddy to come home?”

The boy’s lips quivered again.

“Please?”

“Okay…” he said reluctantly and crawled into your lap. Your arms instantly wrapped around him, pulling him closer into your protective embrace. Instinctively, you threaded your fingers through his soft hair soothingly, smiling in wonder at the beautiful little boy in your arms who was a perfect blend of both you and Rafayel, though you couldn’t help but mused how sometimes more of Rafayel would peek through, such as tonight.

Casually, you hummed the same lullaby Rafayel would often sing, having memorized the mythical melody by heart over the years.

“Mommy… it’s not the same…”

“I know,” you said affably, continuing nonchalantly, “I’m just humming.”

Your hand rubbed your son’s back up and down soothingly.

The toddler sighed heavily, letting his frustration be known, but you remained unbothered by his dramatics, continuing with your light humming.

Try as he might, eventually sleepy little eyes closed, letting darkness settled and allowing himself to be whisked away by this familiar melody.

Cradled in the sea’s embrace, a whale carried the toddler away as he laughed joyously, eyes full of wonder as a school of fish swam, swirling around the little boy, their scales shimmering brilliantly in the water. Many other marine creatures joined the boy in his underwater journey. Sea turtles, dolphins, stingrays, and many more accompanied the small child, showing him all of the beauties of the deep.

He giggled as two little fish—one red and one blue—swam against his cheek, tickling him. He held up a small chubby finger and the blue fish brushed against him in assurance, a silent promise that the boy was well protected in his journey.

He didn’t know where he was going, where the whale was taking him, but he felt no fear, feeling in his heart that within the deep sea, there was a place calling out to him.

When the little boy��s eyes fluttered open, he shook his head, feeling something tickling his cheek.

Purple hair.

He was resting on his father’s shoulder, hearing his deep voice singing a song, an ancient lullaby.

The words were foreign, but the toddler understood, feeling it in his heart. He clung tighter to his father, letting the warmth of his voice wrapped around him like a protective cloak.

“My little fishie,” Rafayel hummed softly, turning to press his lips to his son’s head, “Daddy’s sorry he was late tonight.”

The boy made a soft noise in response, and Rafayel smiled. He resumed singing as he swayed gently from side-to-side in his son’s bedroom. Alongside his voice, the sounds of waves could be heard crashing gently on the shore outside.

The boy yawned, his grip loosening, but Rafayel just held him tighter. As he sang, he gazed fondly at the child in his arms, still after all of this time awestruck that this precious treasure was his. He continued to sing, his words joined by the ocean’s waves.

Lured back to his dreamscape, the little boy was carried away to another place, another time, where an ancient forgotten civilization celebrated his arrival and welcomed him home.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #lnds series — pretty little coral #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel fluff #love and deepspace fanfiction #lnds fanfics #x — fanfics #;~; i'm so sorry i did not mean to wait this long to write his first story #i just didn't know what to write #but anyhoo #happy birthday raf you're a father now lol 🥹

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theredharlotybf · 12 days ago

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Hi! I just read your post, If your requests are open then I’d love to ask for anything with Toby! I’m absolutely starved for any SFW content about him—but NSFW is also very appreciated if that’s your vibe 👀

Honestly, I just want to give you full creative freedom, but I’m also super curious about your headcanons for him. So really, anything at all would totally make my day 💖 Thanks either way!

AN: Hi everyone! Hope no one minds how long this is, my first time writing headcannons, not a professional yet but hopefully i get there soon.

Ticci Toby Headcannons

Disclaimer: Blood, Violence, Gore, Bullying, Seccual content, I make these up as I go, don't judge me.

PERSONAL HEADCANONS

Toby, Toby, Toby. Where do we start with Toby?

I know a lot of people see a hyperactive and silly goofy guy so, not a lot of people really take him seriously.But he is so much more than that.

Born with all those mental disorders does a number on you, especially at such a young age. He never learned how to interact with other people his age- his tourette syndrome which led others to call him ‘Ticci Toby? He never had a real friend in his life.

Of course, there was his older sister Lyra who always did her best to protect him. What with their abusive father screaming abuse at him, Lyra and the mother- taking his rage out on Toby by beating him while in a drunken frenzy. Even in those times, Lyra came to his defense- taking some of those punches even though she knew he couldn’t feel pain due to his CIPA.

I imagine their mother at the time would dissociate whenever their father was like this, just pretend it didn't happen and put herself somewhere else. A lot of people do this when in situations concerning domestic violence- but since she was too focused on protecting her own mental state- she completely forgot about the safety and wellbeing of both Toby and Lyra.

Then came the accident. Both Toby and Lyra were driving home one night after going to see a movie when all of sudden- a drunk driver is carelessly carousing on the wet and slippery backroad to their house and crashes into them. Lyra is killed on Impact and Toby- thanks to his CIPA is unfazed- but is forced to watch his sister die right before him. His safe space and only friend. But even after her funeral, his mother kept on dissociating and his father just got worse- the beatings, the verbal abuse…..the voices.

He was angry-he was depressed, he was losing his sanity.

How do you help a boy like Toby who is diagnosed with Schizophrenia, Bipolar disorder, ADHD and to top it all off- PTSD, who lost his sister in a gruesome way- his father abusing him in every way he knows and his mother- playing blind to all of it.

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fucking fair. Why did it have to be Lyra who died and not their dad? Hell- their mother can die too for all he cares- if she did- neither him nor Lyra would be in this mess. But running away wouldn’t have solved anything- he was still a minor. If he ran away from home- police would simply find him and drag him right back.

That is…. If he had a home to return to…

The solution was staring him right in the face- they told him the answer- yet he didn’t want to see it. But the minute he picked up those hatchets, gripping the handles in both hands, he no longer felt afraid.

He never knew killing could be so cathartic before swinging those hatchets down into his father- the beautiful smell of metal coating his skin as his father’s blood squirted onto him as if it were a geyser. The look of terror in his eyes that looked far too much like his sisters. He plucked them out and squished them under his boots. His screams rang throughout the garage and ironic as it is, his mother finally snapped out of it when she realised her son was murdering her husband.

While his mother called the police- he took a canister of gasoline and a match, setting fire to the neighborhood. He wouldn’t let the police take him- for something that was his right and yet- when the fires set in around him- the only thing he could think about was Lyra.

If he died, he knew there was a chance he might see her again- but he knew there was only one place he was going and it surely wasn’t heaven.

“Toby….. My child….”

The voices in his head had come again, his strength- had come in the form of an eight foot tall man with no eyes, no nose or mouth. A faceless being who stood among the burning trees, looking down at his helpless figure as he struggled to breathe

“This is not the end for you…. Your work has only begun…”

Before he blacked out, a searing burn was felt on his back, Toby had become the Slendermans’s proxy- and yet…. He didn’t hate it.

Toby felt as though he had ascended from the frightened and helpless boy he once was to a man- a servant of the Operator with the duty to murder any and all his Master deems as a target. He was strong, he was powerful and he had the backing of the most dangerous entity in the world.

Strangely enough- his master had other Proxies working for him. Two men called Tim and Brain, a bit older than Toby but more or less on the saner side. Tim was quite irritant and cranky while Brain was silent but sarcastic when he wanted to be. They clearly had some baggage but Toby wasn’t all that interested in knowing- both Tim and Brian- or rather, Masky and Hoodie were simply co-workers. One of them would always go for the kill, and the other would always film it.

Then came Kate, a new Proxy for their master. She never spoke a word and yet everyone could sense her bloodlust every time she walked into a room. She was not to be fucked with and Toby could respect that. Everyone just left everyone the fuck alone, get the jobs done and be done with it.

Though, a lot had changed in terms of his lifestyle. ((Realistically, there is no Slender Mansion ;-;))

Slenderman’s domain was spread out within the forest of the countryside, along with plenty of abandoned cabins ((Squatting in some or killing the original owners and taking it for themselves)). Even though Toby was a man now- he had to adapt to being an adult quickly- sure he could murder people and take their money- but it wasn’t as steady of an occupation as you would imagine, I mean, not every victim they come across is swimming in money so- they had to get jobs.

Toby has multiple jobs, working as a farmhand, a lumberjack, he even picked up some mechanical work after wrapping his head around it- guess it did help that his dad was a mechanic.

Now he fixes Masky’s car and Hoodies’s truck and they pay him back with either cash, cigarettes- alcohol. All the same to him.

He only wears his mouth guard when hunting- when he’s out in public, he puts a gauze over his cheek where he chewed through.

Sleeper build for days- yet has such an unhealthy diet of take out, microwave dinners and tinned food. This boy can’t cook to save his life.

MEETING TOBY

How would you meet Toby? He is quite the solitary creature, he won’t leave the forest if he can help it- the only times he ventures into the city is when he has a target there or when it's his turn to shop for supplies.

He won’t go to you so you go to him.

You live a stressful life with your own shit to deal with- a breakdown was imminent and when you crashed out, you realized this lifestyle wasn’t for you and getting away from the hustle and bustle of the city was just what you needed.

You bought an old Cabin nearly twenty years old, the owner went missing years ago and presumed dead, since then, it's just been sitting on the market place- waiting to be bought. You jumped at the opportunity, taking your pets and moving to the countryside.

When you get there with the real estate agent- you notice some belongings, men's clothes, old food in the fridge- the agent tells you its most likely squatters but judging by the rotting food in the fridge, the squatters haven’t been here in a while and called up a locksmith to come and change all the locks in the house free of charge since no one knew the residence was being lived in.

Though, you did feel bad about whoever was living here, you understood times could get tough, hence why after scrubbing the fridge clean, you threw the old clothes in the wash, hanging them up to dry and then folding them neatly and leaving them in a box.

The previous owner of the cabin was an older man who enjoyed hunting, the house was decorated in taxidermied animals and it wasn’t really for you, preferring to put all of them up for auction instead. Over the next few weeks, you got to cleaning up the cabin, replacing old furniture with new ones and stuff from your old home. You brightened up the place with fresh coats of paint, new curtains and carpet, replacing the broken windows and fixing all the creaky doors yourself. Even installing an automatic dog door for your pets so they can come in and out themselves.

You planted flowers at the front of the cabin while starting your own little vegetable garden. The old smell of tobacco and musk was replaced with scented candles and the smell of your new hobby, baking. You had completely transformed the old cabin and it had become more like home.

Little did you know- this little home of yours was one of the less frequently used hideouts for Ticci Toby.

And when he first laid eyes upon it, he was shocked. Sure, he has his main cabin deeper in the woods- but this hideout was one that none of the other proxies knew about- and it pissed him off. Who the hell moved into his place? Was the previous owner not warning enough?

He walked up to the front door and- “Oh! Hello!”

He didn’t notice the comfy swing seat at the end of the porch, there you were, your knees tucked to your chest, a book in hand, your pet cuddled up to and by your seat was a small table with a glass of lemonade. You were careful not to bother your snoozing baby as you placed your book down and stood up. “Can I help you sir?”

Toby’s mind went completely blank. He couldn’t put words into what he was feeling but something about you just looked….. Sweet. You didn’t look like a bad person, you were wearing blue slippers with cartoon animals, a large sweater over some leggings.

“I…. left some stuff here…” He muttered. He didn’t know what else to say. You just nodded your head. “Ah, just wait one second then.” You opened the front door and headed inside the house, he peeked inside and noticed that the once yellow walls were gone, a fresh white coat brightened up the home, new furniture, a new flat screen t.v. to replace the old one with the big fat back. He could even smell something sweet and tasty cooking.

You re-emerged from the home, carrying a box full of his clothes, clean and folded. He didn’t remember cleaning them when he last left. “I have some cherry pie in the oven, would you like some?”

“Oh- I don’t think…” He couldn’t talk anymore where you got your oven mitts and took the pie out of the oven, the delicious smell making his stomach growl. You packed him up a slice of pie in some tupperware. He was confused, surely you would have realised he was the one previously squatting in your home, yet you washed his clothes and gave him some dessert?

“You take care of yourself…. Mr?”

“Toby… Just Toby…” He muttered.

“Toby… that's a good name, you looked after yourself Toby, and enjoy that pie!”

He went back to his main hideout, wiping off a dirty spoon on his trousers before using it to eat your cherry pie. It was good. Very good. He couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed a homemade pie. Actually, now that he thinks about it- he can’t seem to remember any positive memories of having dinner. Mom just made dinner, no starters, mains or… desserts. She just just made everyone a plate and that was it.

He went back to see you, he had to see you again.

But only this time, you weren’t aware he was there.

It was annoying at first because you always got up super early and he wasn’t exactly a morning person. You would get up and water your plants, refill the bird feeder and you made breakfast that looked way too healthy and some type of tea he knew wasn’t that good. You also went for a walk with your pet which gave him time to sneak into the cabin. He found out your name, your age, your birthday, even your blood type. He even managed to get access to your laptop since you didn’t turn it off. He went through your emails and a bit more digging- he found out about your breakdown after someone continuously harassed you at your last home and that your doctor advised you to ease your stress levels and live a more relaxed life, a new place where no one knew where you lived but it wasn’t what he would call a relaxed life, seeing as you liked to keep yourself busy.

You worked from home now and only went to work if there was an important meeting. But you mostly kept to yourself, alone in that cabin with your pets- he wanted to talk to you again- he wanted to get to know you, he wanted to find out what it was about you that drew him in.

So, he kidnapped your pet.

Yes, dick move, he knows- but what you don’t know doesn’t hurt you and after a day of watching you run about, crying your eyes out, yelling for your baby to come home- he reappears, with your pet- saying he found them by his home nearby.

You wept for joy, taking your pet into your arms, smothering them with love and affection, vowing to never let them leave your sight again while taking Toby for bringing them back to you.

You invite Toby back to your home and offer him something to drink. You make him and yourself some coffee while allowing your pet to snack on their favorite treats. You respectfully inquire about the gauze on Toby’s cheek and there he tells you he was born with CIPA and accidentally chewed through his own cheek- it freaks people out to see it and that he hides it.

You then get worried because you gave him some pie last time you saw him and imagined how hard it would be to eat with a missing cheek. He chuckled, telling you he mastered eating his food on the one side of his mouth. He thanks you for looking after his belongings- and didn’t realise he left them behind.

You safely assumed he was a squatter until he said that he and the man who lived in the house before you used to be ‘acquaintances’, that they would hunt together on occasion which made your cheeks light up in embarrassment for assuming he was living in your house illegally. Another lie of course but the last thing he wanted was for you to think he was homeless.

Speaking of appearance- he began to wash himself more frequently, snuck away to the laundromat at the dead of night and washed all his laundry while no one was there. Even stealing cologne from a victim’s house just so he’d smell nice around you and his efforts were not unnoticed.

He would make ‘weekly’ appearances just so he could have his opportunities to interact with you by offering to do some handy work like chopping up some firewood and repairing your car (which suddenly started breaking down all the time!) and finding your pet when they ran off, you would invite him in for conversations and a meal- you once tried to get his social media but when he told you he had no social media- you found that refreshing- but at the same time, he lives out in the boonies, most people in the countryside down need social media so you just acquired a basic phone number instead.

Although his visits are ‘weekly’. He comes by your house every day to…. Keep an eye on you.

And when I say keep an eye, I mean watching you through the bushes as you tend to your garden and looking through your window as you go about your chores at home.

He was once luckily enough one night to catch you in the act- your hands under your shorts….

He never had the chance to engage in such acts but seeing you in that position was enough to make him dizzy.

But it made him stop and think- what was it about you that made him keep coming back? Sure- he found you attractive- he wasn’t ashamed to admit that but it was something more than that- despite his ticks and inconsistent mood swings- you didn’t treat him like a freak like everyone else did. He wanted to chalk it up to you having your own mental breakdown but looking at your personal info, it was more or less stress and work related anxiety that caused you to feel from society. Not that he didn’t understand how shit society was but when he interacted with you…. You never faked it.

Your warmth and kindness, not the fake smiles or carefully worded comments given to him by others. It reminds him of…. her. And suddenly, he felt like he was at home again.

His one real human connection, someone who saw him as he was and not a freak-

What the hell was thinking?

He was a murderer, a killer, a Proxy of the Slenderman. He can’t ever be human again. You didn’t know the extent of who he was- if you did- you would have gone running for the hills and never looked back.

This realization hurt- because he was really starting to become attached to you but he knew he was already crossing the line, befriending you like this. You know who he is and that was dangerous enough, he was putting the other proxies at risk and it was only a matter of time before you learned of his true identity.

He made up his made and gathered his hatchets.

He walked towards you home, both blades in hand. He didn’t want you to suffer- which is why he would make it quick and painless.

That was….. Until he saw another car in front of your house and a pet hiding under the porch- notably terrified.

He ran up to your home and saw you.

Tied up to a chair, bound and gagged as tears streaming down your face as a man who he had never seen before circled the chair you sat in while twirling a knife in his hands.

“What made you run away… darling? I’ve been with alot of women but you have to be the most ungrateful one of all! I’ve bought you the best gifts money can buy- I’ve took you on all those extravagant dates- fuck- I left my damn wife for you and you dare reject me? ME!? After everything I’ve done for!”

Toby’s first began to shake with fury- how dare this prick treat you like this?! The files… this must be the guy who was harassing you.

The guy ripped the gag from your mouth to allow you to speak.

“You never told me you were married! You lied to me from the moment we met and you try to pin this on me?! You were the one who pursued me and destroyed your own marriage! If you could cheat on your own wife- what made me think I could expect any loyalty from you? I told you as much and you still wouldn’t leave me alone- despite all those protection orders I had on you!”

“But what you and I had was true love- my wife never made me feel as fulfilled as you did- I only wanted you to know the extent of my feelings for you… then you just had to get the police involved….”

Then he stabbed the knife into your thigh

“And now, because of you- I am ruined! Everyone thinks I’m a degenerate! I got fired and my wife won’t let me see my children! We could have been happy together and you had to go and fuck it all up- now… I’m going to take my time with you… slowly.. Intimately.. I’m going to break you in every way I know how and leave your body in a ditch-”

Toby didn’t say anything else before busting down the door- his blood raced to his face- hidden by his mouth guard and orange goggles. You both looked over at his direction, his arrival unexpected. Your stalker’s face said it all, he was terrified. Toby clearly overshadowed him with his height and physique, those two blood stained hatchets in his hands stating his intentions clearly.

“H-Hey… wait a minute there bud- lets talk about this-”

Toby didn’t give him another second before launching one of his hatchets into his chest. He screamed like a little bitch before he sauntered over to him, looking down at him. His dilated pupils studying his form through his orange goggles.

“Wanna B-break her huh? All because your a disloyal f-faggot who wasn’t worthy of a decent relationship. It's people like you that make this world so u-ugh..unbearable to live in. I’m not even gonna take my time with you…. You're not worthy of all that attention… but you’re not gonna die a painless death- that I can assure you….!”

True to his word- he ripped out the hatchet from the stalker’s chest and brought them down on him again and again, relishing in their screams until they eventually died out.

And all he could hear was your cries.

When he finally snapped out of it, he realised what he had done- you lovely kitchen which was always so clean and tidy was now saturated in blood- you were covered in the blood splattered by Toby’s reckless abandon. You shivered, crying weakly as you shivered- you were so absolutely terrified and he knew he was the cause. He wanted to run out of that cabin- to never darken your doorstep again-

“Toby… is that you?” You whimpered.

You looked up at him- with a smile breaking out into tears ago.

What happened after that was quick. He untied you, stuck you in the bathtub and let the shower head soak you as he went to clean up your kitchen as best he could, getting rid of the body and the car he came in. He let your pet back inside which gave you a lot of comfort before you rejoined him in the kitchen, wearing a fluffy bathrobe. You had a towel placed on your thigh to stop the bleeding and Toby was able to sow up your leg- using his own experience from showing up his own wounds, and yet, after he finished tending to you, you had such an empty look in your eyes.

You wanted the truth from him, no more lies.

He spilled everything, he was a deluded murderer- he killed his father and set his neighborhood on fire, he came into the service of the operator where their sole purpose is to make sacrifices in his name- how… he was planning to kill you tonight. He couldn’t lie to you, not anymore.

You were clearly taken aback- sitting on your couch and staring into space, holding your pet close to you before asking him if any of your interactions were real- was he just trying to get close to you so she would kill you.

He remembers grabbing your hands, he would never hurt you, after tonight, seeing you like that killed him so much, he never wanted to see you hurt or scared again.

You ask him to leave your house and to give you a week to think.

He obeys but not without checking his phone every five minutes- he never wanted you to hate him but if you hated him- he couldn’t live with himself. To think the only girl he ever came to care about and he fucked it up for what?

He got sloppy with his missions- targets nearly escaped and he had to hunt them down and kill them before they got away. So much so, his master confronted him about his work. And what made things worse- Slender had known about you all along. Whiched confused Toby, but his master’s reply was simple.

“I care not for your relationships outside of work but it is your job to make sure those who know of your work are kept to be indiscretion. If indulging in the flesh and company of a female is what will keep you at the top of your game- then let it be so- but if she tells anyone about you or the others…. I will dispatch her myself.”

Finally a week went by before you called again, when he came to your home- the kitchen smelt of chemicals- fresh pain and cleaning materials to remove the stains and the smell. It irritated his nose but you looked more angry. You had been through all the motions over the past week.

He asks if you and him were over and you tell him it depends on what he says.

He felt as if he was walking on thin ice before he sat down across from you. You ask if it was always his intention to kill you. He refutes this- you were always more of a curiosity, he didn’t understand why you had treated him so nicely even though he was a stranger, someone who you didn’t know. That made you even angrier, claiming it was called basic decency- that not everyone is a horrible judgemental human being- you were nice and kind to him because that's how you were with everyone- despite his disfigurement. You were hurt because of how he automatically assumed the worst of you when you met.

You also bring up the fact that he was watching you which surprised him. But you reminded him that you had a stalker before you had come to the countryside so you had recognised when someone was watching you. He admitted to watching you from afar and to looking at your private information. You had to get up from your seat- your face red with anger, betrayed at the fact that the one friend you thought you had made would do something so underhanded. That it disgusted you.

Yet- you couldn’t completely dismiss the fact that he did save you from being raped and murdered.

He asked what that guy was about. You explained that you met him at a company dinner where he asked you out, you had no objections but he brought you on super expensive dinners and good gifts like jewellery and bouquets of flowers- practically showering you with affection. That's when you knew something was up. Because if something was too good to be true, it probably is, which is why you did a deep dive into your date’s background when you found out he was married with children.

You had urged him to go back to his wife and both of you forget your affair ever existed- even though you never slept with him thank god- but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He would show up at your house at ungodly hours and send gifts to your work. You made several complaints but no one ever took you seriously. You had a doorbell camera installed at your old residences and in one video- he left a dead bird at your door and only then people had started to take you seriously but by then- the bird was the last straw and you wanted out as fast as you could.

You asked Toby what his angle was- you had been through enough shit as it was and if he was gonna do anything to disturb the peace you fought so hard for in your life.

He promised he had no desire to hurt you but you reminded him he came to your home that night armed and ready- if that man had not been there, torturing you- what would he have done?

He didn’t know how to answer- but he knew that no matter what, he couldn’t lose you, but what could he say? What could he say…?

“Toby… I think you should leave-”

“I l-love you.”

His lips moved on their own, he couldn’t control his words, his voice- they forced themselves out of his mouth. You stared at him with disbelief in your eyes. “You love me? How can you say that- I don’t…”

“I screwed up…. But give me a chance… I will make it up to you for the rest of my life if that what it takes”

You didn’t want to believe him, he’s done a lot of terrible things in order to be close to you, how safe were you with him near and yet….. Just by looking at him, you can tell he’s never had a genuine relationship in his life. He was a sad….lonely…and miserable boy with not a hope in the world.

But…. you were just as alone as him. Both of you sat in that darkness- with only each other and no other person to support either of you.

SFW HEADCANONS

You wanted to start off your relationship slowly with him- if he really wanted to be with you, he would have to work to earn your trust back. Which is easier said than done, so you laid your ground rules. First and foremost- boundaries. No more was Toby going to sneak around your home nor snoop like a creep. He is to keep his nose out of your computer, phone, documents- anything confidential! If he wants to visit, he will do so during the day and he will text you beforehand and not show up randomly.

When you found out he was the servant of this demon- god- whatever it was- you didn’t want to know. It was hard enough to stomach that he would come and go, after potentially hurting and murdering a lot of people. He would tell you these people were the scum of society- but it didn’t help to stomach it any easier. Toby could do as he pleases- just as long as he didn’t bring it to your home.

Also, he was no longer allowed anywhere near your pet after finding out he would take them just to gain your trust, and you were keeping an extra close eye on your engine. As much as Toby hated the fact he was now walking on eggshells around you- he would rather this never never speak to you again.

When he was allowed to come over- you never left his sight and you never left his. If you were gardening, he would do his best to help you- but he mostly stuck to cutting up your firewood and what not. You always made him a meal when he came over and he was always happy to eat what you made, in fact, he believed he had gained more muscle by eating your foods. But you would always make him something sweet as well.

You also did more research on his conditions as well- seeing what you could do to help better accommodate him- Toby wasn’t on any medication, he stopped any medication the day he killed his family. As worrying as that was, it wasn’t like you could make him take meds- but the specific meds he would need would have to be prescribed by a doctor and as far as anyone was concerned, Toby was dead.

You two would watch movies, play some games and sometimes, Toby would take you hiking. You visited many places where you two could sit and have lunch together- it was a nice peace.

Sooner or later, you two got to talking about each other’s past. Toby told you all about his childhood, how everyone would bully him because his tourette syndrome, how they used to beat him up but because of his CIPA, he could never feel anything, but he could feel shame because he knew they were hurting him- calling him names, like ‘Ticci’ Toby because of his ticks. And to reinforce that- sometimes he would flinch when you put your hand on him before you said anything.

To that end- you thought that physical touch was not something that he wanted, so you refrained from touching him for a while- but he hated that. He wanted you to touch him- because he would never feel comfortable with anyone else touching him. It started with you two holding hands, the rough skin of his fingers rubbing against your smooth ones.

He liked to be held and to hold you. Sometimes, when you're at the kitchen, he’ll come up behind you and loop his arms around your waist while burying his head between your neck. When you watch movies, he likes to lay his head on your lap while you run your soft fingers through his hair.

Your first kiss with him was not what you had expected- he and you had taken a trip down to a nearby lake where you rented a boat. He rowed you both out while the sun shone down on the pair of you, it was a lovely day. You decided to give Toby a peck on the cheek and he looked shocked.

For a moment, you thought you messed up before he grabbed your face and pulled his lips towards yours. You remember gasping his name as he sucked on your face as you both fell to the floor of the boat with Toby on top of you.

Toby didn’t have a lot of experience with kissing, so it was up to you to teach him how to kiss. It was awkward- teaching a guy to kiss- but Toby often gets carried away with his kisses. He kisses you everywhere that has skin exposed, your face, your neck, your fingers- your legs.

When you finally came back from the lake, your neck was full of bitemarks and hickies from Toby’s love attacks.

Toby became even bolder and bolder with his affections- he was a quick learner.

NSFW HEADCANONS

Oooooh boy, figured we get here eventually.

Toby didn’t have kissing experience prior to meeting you, what makes you think he has any sexual experience?

He doubts masterbation counts. Fuck, he has alot of porn back at his main hideout- he has needs but no one to release them on. Sure- he's a proxy and there have been many female victims- but the thought of forcing himself on someone makes him sick- despite his twisted sense of morality.

Though, he is a bit of a voyeur if you're really asking. He stalks his victims, sometimes those victims will be busy knocking boots with one another- and you.

He has tried to wipe that night from his mind- you were in the privacy of your bedroom, your curtains were closed but he was able to see all your actions through the crack of your curtain. He wanted to touch you down there as well and after a while of dating, you believed you were ready.

You told Toby to come over and when he was on his way, you got ready. You had a previous hunch he had seen you changing and massaging your sweet spot- although you had dealt with enough stalker business- the thought of Toby watching you? You would lie, it turned you on.

Imagine Toby’s face when he comes into your home and finds you on your bed, black lacy panties and bra, and when he stood there, you told him to stay. Spreading your legs, your fingers tracing your pussy through the thin silk of your underwear. You could hear his breath hitch before you snuck your fingers inside, playing with your clit as you stuck your fingers inside your heated walls.

Toby looked like a man in the desert, thirsty for water while you slipped a tit out of your bra, it pebbled at the cold air as you gave it a slight pinch, making your core tighten as you repeated a single word.

“Toby….Toby….oh Toby!”

You made him absolutely feral, he practically lunged at you, ripping your bra off your body as you went for your tits.

Toby loves your tits, if there were ever a perfect stress toy, if it would be them, they just fit so snuggly in his hands, he loves seeing the reactions you make as he pinches at your nipples, bites them, flicks at them with his tongue.

This boy has a lot of pent up energy, a lot of pent up libido, you were both each others’ first and you know how they say the first is the worst? That couldn’t have been any more false. Toby had you dripping before sinking his cock inside you. Not only did you get super worked up after he bullied your titties- he wanted to taste your cunt. He always wondered what pussy tastes like.- he even said this to you as he pulled your hips up, his arms wrapped around your torso before going tongue first. He had your legs suspended in the air with the way he helped you and there was no escaping his grip. He was a man on a mission, his tongue wiggling around in your cunny like an alien object while you grabbed at your sheets.

Toby’s penis is a wonderful size and shape, six inches- a good width that curved upward, uncircumcised of course. Toby never thought much of his penis- he hated looking at it- there was a time where after gym class, the boys in the locker room stole his gym clothes and ripped his towel off him- he was a kid a time and he remember their jeers clearly- making fun of the size of his dick while some took photos. ((They’re dead now.))

He hesitated for a bit but when he finally started fucking you, he swore he saw stars in your eyes. “Yes Toby! Oh- fuck! Toby- you’re filling me up so good! Give me more Toby- please!”

He gained back a confidence he didn’t realise he had or needed.

Your first time was vanilla, just him on top of you while he fucked his cock back into your cunny over and over again as tears weld up in your eyes from the sheer fullness of him

With it, came a sort of dominance he displayed over you- he loved seeking you weak from pleasure- he loved your submission, the control he had over you.

“You're mine, do you understand… this little pussy belongs to me.” He would snarl in your ear while fingering your pussy. He can be quite mean, he likes to call you his slut while making you masterbate in front of him- you recently invested in a vibrator and you’ll sit there, legs spread and cum as many times as he wants- whether you're over stimulated or not, even go as far as to slap that pussy after its all red, swollen and dripping with yours and his spent.

When he comes to your home and you're doing ordinary things, you're the one incharge, he’s the one who can’t put a foot wrong, but in the bedroom, he’s in charge and you have to watch yourself. Speaking of submission, he loves seeing you tied up, he loves your tiny body against his. He’ll fuck you everywhere he can, on the bed, against the wall, on the floor, on the sick counter, in your shower. He even once got you outside of the grass where he fucked you into the dirt.

But he’s not entirely ruthless, he’ll run you a bath while you hydrate yourself with some water. Because of his CIPA, he doesn’t really feel hot or cold so one time, afterwards, he tried to put you in a bath- you screamed your head off because the water was too hot- but he’s gotten better at evening out the temperature. He’ll sit with you in the bath and wash your hair while your relax against his chest

He’ll change your sheets and dress you up in airy pajamas before tucking both himself and you into bed, big spooning you with his head buried in your neck.

“You're my home now (Y/n).... so please…. Don’t ever leave me.”

#creepypasta fandom #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta headcanon #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby #ticci toby x female reader #marble hornets #masky marble hornets #hoodie marble hornets #kate the chaser #slenderman #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby smut #tobias erin rogers #creepypasta characters

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afterglowsainz · 8 months ago

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we used to have more pt. 4 | oscar piastri, pato o’ward

part 1 part 2 part 3

pairing: oscar piastri x reader, pato o’ward x reader

summary: where a talk in a hotel room and a work trip to mexico make things clear for you

fc: different girls from pinterest

warnings: mentions of toxic relationships

a/n: ahhh sorry it took me a while to post this! but finally here it is the last part of this mini series that i loved creating <3 thank you so so much for supporting it the way you did, all the comments, reblogs and likes meant the world to me while writing it💗

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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

yourusername home sweet home

tagged lissiemackintosh

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username dry ass caption

username girlie is NOT happy to be back

username y/n i know you wanted to stay in america but you can at least act a little bit more excited to be back 😭

username the fact it was sunny all weekend and she posted a pic of the only HOUR of rain is diabolical

declanmurray you can at least pretend

yourusername i’m not contractually obligated to

username pls 😭

username idc she’s down MOTHER IS BACK

oscarpiastri happy you’re back! ❤️

username chat when the guy you’re off and on for years says he’s happy you’re back how to do you react?

username ohhh but we’re having THE fashion icon that is y/n again at the paddock i cannot complain

patriciooward have fun!

yourusername <3333

username pls the way she ignored oscar so severely 😭

liked by yourusername, milesbaldwin and others

patriciooward can never say no to a side quest

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username NORBIIII 🥰

username every photo was whiplash after whiplash

username incredibly cute and incredibly hot

username don’t push girls

username i am that cookie actually

username i need him in a way that’s concerning for feminism

yourusername boys 🥹

patriciooward miss you!

username no they are my parents

username oscar i was rooting for you but now … i’m not so sure

liked by patriciooward, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername the prodigal son returns home 🇲🇽

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username omg is this a hard launch??? what is this !!!

username patoooo 💖

username the way you can see everything about her posting changed since she arrived in mexico

username is it wrong to assume it’s because she’s with pato again? 😩

username pato and y/n in mexico is everything

username ohhhh oscar reaaaally fumbled this time

username nahhh im being delusional thinking oscar still has an opportunity (pls y/n give him a chance 😩)

username well, at least she’s posting again 🥳

patriciooward ☀️

yourusername ☀️✨✨💫

liked by indygossip, f1wags and others

f1gossip indycar and mclaren’s reserve driver patricio o’ward was seen last night having dinner and sharing a kiss with f1 community manager y/n y/l/n

it has been rumored for a few years that she was on a relationship on and off with mclaren’s oscar piastri, but it was never confirmed as the driver kept going back to his exgirlfriend

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username not oscar catching strays 😭😭

f1gossip 🤷🏽‍♀️

username honestly i can’t be mad about this. she deserves someone who makes her happy and pato obviously likes her. they look good together 💗

username THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

username someone check on oscar 😩

username watch him go back to his exgirlfriend after hearing the news 🙄

username genuinely hoping he doesn’t do that otherwise he’s just reinforcing y/n’s decision of moving on

username anddd that relationship CANNOT be healthy, for either of them

username i knew they were together from day one, y’all were just blinded by oscar

username because they’re meant to be 😭😭

username in another life perhaps!

liked by yourusername, lissiemackintosh and others

patriciooward favorite place with the greatest company ❤️

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username ahhh the masters of hard launching i’m so here for this

username THE DRESS

username i don’t know if i wanna be pato or y/n in this situation

username okay don’t rub it in 😭

miguelsossa where’s my photo creds for the second one? 🤨

patriciooward 📷: miguelsossa

miguelsossa thanks it means a lot make sure to pin that comment so everyone can see

username pls why did i thought y/n and pato went out without the whole gang 😭

declanmurray HAH don’t make me laugh

milesbaldwin we do leave them alone sometimes

patriciooward …

lissiemackintosh 😮

username speechless at this

username i’m sure pato is a saint because dealing with y/n’s friends must be a handful 🙏🏽

yourusername beautiful 🤍

patriciooward how’s the weather now? :)

yourusername warm enough, you?

patriciooward clear skies

username STOP THEYRE SO CUTE 🥰

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oscarpiastri happy place ❤️

tagged exgirlfriend

comments for this post have been disabled

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taglist; @heavy-vettel @a-beaverhausen @astroniii @chunkpiboli @theonottsbxtch @eclecticcreatorweaselsalad @charli123456789 @stopeatread @coriyaps @nina-or-anna-or-nora @ninasw0rld @loveelylani @marauders-wife @dramallama9 @mxdi0 @piastrigate @ladyoflynx @prudyhoo @idkwtdwml123 @southernbaguette @ellelabelle @emryb @fastfactory @comicalivy @seasonswinter @no-144444 @lunamelona @saachiep81 @nataliambc @patis643 @softtina @chemiru @obxstiles @eiaaasamantha @youre-on-your-ownkid @wcnorris @hwalllllllelujah @soleilgrec

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leyavo · 1 month ago

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| I am my father’s daughter | 12 |

💖 Dad!Price & Daughter!reader, eventual Soap x reader

PART TWELVE: John Price hasn’t seen or heard from his daughter in over a year, but that changes when she calls him one night asking for help 2.9k+words

[18+] MDNI | TW: hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/ complicated father-daughter relationship

Previous parts -> [series masterlist]

🔈Readers view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he��s not that great. So don’t send me hate

Johnny’s been off his game all week, he’s normally a sharp shooter. Says it how it is, not caring what he says if it’s important enough to make a difference. It’s no different than divulging intel, the Captain should know. This key piece of intel though could be similar to a ticking time bomb, he’s not sure if he wants to be on the receiving end of John’s rage or yours for that matter.

There’s only so many times the Captain can pull him aside and ask him what’s going on. He can’t lie to the man’s face and he’s beginning to crack. He’s fought off worse interrogations and never given anything away, but this is not his usual domain. Not when it comes to your safety. He gave you time and it doesn’t look like you’ve confessed to the Captain.

Johnny traces the gold cross on his chest, like a wee boy in confessional he’s trying to pluck up the courage to confess his sins. Kissing you. Another thing he has to tell the Captain before it gets too messy. He can’t even look him in the eye or string a sentence together when he’s asked once again what’s going on in his head, because it’s all bloody you.

Now Johnny ain’t the type to pick apart his interactions outside of work, but then you had to kiss him. No warning, no hesitation as your lips smashed into his. His teeth still feel the clash of your mouths meeting and he hasn’t worn his jacket hoping the crease of your hold stays in the fabric. A reminder that it happened. A sign maybe? To never do it again. He’s gone over and over again on the why? Can’t understand it, if he’s being honest.

Out of everyone you’ve spent the most time with Johnny. Since your stay in the hospital he’s fallen into the routine of walking round the base with you, not every day though. You’re a tough one to crack, a little open and honest with him when it’s flirty and fun, but he notices the flitting gaze when he aims too far. Digs too deep, there’s so many layers he’s yet to discover and figure out. He knows not to mention your mother or dad too much, instant withdrawal if he utters Lena’s name.

You’re also a tease, big time. It’s something Johnny likes the most about you, that even though you’ve been hurt many times before you feel safe enough around him to be playful. There’s still hesitant moments, silent pauses before some of your interactions and Johnny waits for you to take the lead. He can’t help but chase you when you pull him in. Should he be going after the Captain’s daughter? No, but you might have something to say about that.

The narrow corridor stretches further as Johnny squeezes past the bodies, its natural for the high traffic of people when they're so close to being back out in the field. Another thing for the sergeant to work over in his head and your little kiss doesn't help him focus. He's thinking about the money, your mother and his minds trying not to imagine the worse. If it were his family, he'd want to know. The Captain's door swings open before Johnny can lift his hand and knock against the worn wood. An analyst carrying a wad of brown files clutched to their chest, she slips past him and nods in thanks, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. Like everyone else running around this particular sector the Captain looked weathered. Deep rims carved under his eyes, thick beard and moustache scraggly and untrimmed. He's been sleeping in his office awaiting a call and the go ahead from Kate Laswell.

"Here to confess ya' sins, Son?" The Captain doesn't divert his focus from the computer monitor, brows furrowed and finger tapping the mouse. Now that Johnny’s really paying attention, he can see the exact frown that settles on your face sometimes, line not as prominent on you though.

“Soap?” The Captain snaps, none the wiser what the sergeant’s about to blurt out or that’s he sweating buckets.

Johnny stills, it's not every day the captain throws around a 'son' and he know's his focus has been divided. He doesn’t take a seat, the only possible outcome is the captain lunging at him and he’d prefer to be quick moving if that’s the case. Not that he’d blame John for going at him. Johnny would let him have one swing at least.

The Captain sighs and leans back in his creaky chair. "I warned ya' not to get involved," he says, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "You've been all over the place this week, it's unacceptable considering everything else that’s going on. This op is years worth of planning, no time to be messing around Soap." And he's right, Johnny know's he deserves the verbal lashing and maybe even a physical one if he mentions the kiss. He's never let a women get to him like he has you.

Messing around, because that's all it is? Right. It's not the kiss that's thrown him off balance, its the money and the way you spit out your mother's name. "She kissed me, but I’m not sure why exactly other than to distract me from the fact she told me she gave your money to her Mam,” Johnny rambles on, he doesn’t know why he’s worded it the way he has. As if the Captain would be interested in talking about his daughter’s liking to Johnny.

“You what?”

Captain, father…Johnny has no idea which one he’s facing now. He takes a step back as John rises from his seat and leans his hands on the desk. He’s overstepped a boundary, one foot hovering over the grave and as long as he doesn’t dig a deeper hole he might be able to walk away unscathed.

“Say that again?”

“Uh, she gave your money to her Mam,” Johnny says, wiping his clammy hands on his jeans. “One kiss, not tongues or anything. Won’t happen again.” Christ, he should not have said that. Why was he a babbling mess when it came to anything to do with you? He feels like a kid in the headmasters office waiting for a punishment.

The shrill phone ringing saves Johnny, but he doesn’t move until the Captain dismisses him with a flick of his hand. Laswell’s name falling from his lips as he held the phone up to his ear. The call they’ve all been waiting for. He releases a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding as his boots step out into the corridor again.

And like clockwork, Kyle’s texting him to meet at the pub and wind down before they get dumped in the next op. Johnny's hoping drinks with Kyle will clear his mind and absolve him from telling the Captain something you should have. The usual tradition of getting wasted before the serious stuff kicks in, the prep work and legal jargon they have to sit through in order to get the job done. Nine times out of ten the Captain makes an appearance towards the end of the night and Simon sits in a dingy corner nursing a whisky, but they aren't tonight. No, Simons gathering intel on foreign land and returning tomorrow, John’s buried under a mountain of paperwork that needs to be finalised before midnight. Leaving Kyle, thank God least he'd be able to have some fun. Take his mind off your kiss.

He doesn't expect to see you though, a glass of what he's guessing is white wine. You take a sip, placing it on the table and turning back to the man by the pool table. The usual dark hoody hangs on the back of your chair, a black lace top sticking to you like a second skin, not leaving much to his imagination. You've paired it with the same faded black jeans, torn at one knee and a pair of scuffed boots. It's not the tight fit that draws Johnny in though, its the off shoulder sleeves and the smooth planes of your back on display. The scabbed gash just below your neck in the centre peeking out from beneath the blunt cut of your hair. A smile pulls your lips and you glance down to the guys hands by his side. Always assessing others movements when they're distracted.

You’ve been to this pub a few times with the team and some of your work colleagues, but Johnny’s never seen you so relaxed. No furrowed brow or wedged between Kyle and the captain staring at your drink. Maybe it’s your dad’s absence, but it looks good on you.

Johnny leans against the sticky bar, watching the scene play out. Classic move, the blokes hand on your hip and the other helping you set up the cue stick, his front presses to your back. The red ball hits the edge of the pocket and rolls back to the centre. You stand, little pout on your face as the hand on your hip slips away. Missing on purpose.

"Might wanna get in there before he does," Kyle interrupts, elbowing Johnny and reaching over to take his pint. He takes a sip and returns it to the bar. "I'm going home with Tina," he says, searching the pub and waving to a leggy redhead across the room. "Keep an eye on the kid, yeah?" He doesn't wait for reply, knowing Johnny would have done it without being asked.

Downing the rest of his beer, he asks the barmaid for another and a white wine as well. Johnny waits till the mystery man disappears to the toilets and walks over to you. "You look nice," Johnny says, smirking as you gasp, unaware he was behind you.

Your eyes dart to his hands as he slides the drinks onto the table, rarely do you meet others gaze, but Johnny seems to be the only one who can hold your undivided attention. As if you're mesmerised by his restraint, because all he wants to do right now is lean in and kiss you. Maybe with tongues.

"So do you." You lean against the pool table, cue stick still in your grasp. “This where you tell me my times up?” You cock your head to the side and flutter those long lashes. And not even a minute in your presence, your brow furrows. Johnny would much rather see the sweet smile you’d flashed at the last guy, but he’s going to have to work for it.

Why are you straight to the point with him, but can’t pluck up the courage to talk to your dad? Johnny’s chest aches, dull throb pulsing and tightening at the fact that’s he’s beat you to it. Should he confess his third sin today? Maybe even make some more if he’s got the guts to.

“You know your Da’s a good guy,” he says, picking his beer up and observing the poorly served head of foam sitting on top. Too distracted by you and the guy earlier to notice the barmaids shoddy work.

You scoff, discarding the cue stick on the velvety green pool table. “Why does everyone keep telling me that?” You nudge an orange ball towards the corner pocket, watching it drop to the bottom and roll back into table waiting to be played again.

“Cos you’re the only one that chooses not to see it.” See he can be honest and straight with you. “What’s he done that tells you otherwise?” Sharp shooter, but he also causes destruction, hopefully never for you though.

He knows you’re the type to stand back and observe every interaction the Captain’s had. Doesn’t matter who’s approached him, you’re searching for a reason not to trust him. Pushing his buttons slightly to see if he slips up and shows you exactly what you’re afraid of.

Another man hurting you.

You shrug, “I don’t know what he’s supposed to act like.”

“That’s natural, you haven’t had a father figure around to compare him with.” There’s no other way of saying it, no sugar coating it to soften the blow as you wince at the thought. “Why don’t you just talk to him about your Mam? He’ll understand.”

“It’s complicated,” you mumbled, rolling another ball across the pool table. “You wouldn’t understand.” You shake your head, arms crossing over your chest and shoulders slumping forwards. Closing yourself off once again when he pushes too far.

The pub grows louder, bodies pushing past and you grab your hoody from the back of the chair shoving it over your head. Downing the white wine Johnny brought over, wiping your lips with the cuff of your sleeve. You’re walking through the crowd without another word, Johnny trailing after you.

“Help me understand?” Johnny says, hand slipping into yours as you stops you by the entrance. He doesn’t recognise his own voice, a softer tone reserved only for you. He’s used to snapping and snarling or talking too fast that he’s has to repeat himself, dull down his accent for others to understand him. You always understand him though.

You’re silent for a minute, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Fingers curling into fists under your crossed arms, no doubt weighing up how much you’re going to share. Little crumbs he keeps collecting as he tries to understand you more.

Johnny’s an open book, giving you anything you need to feel comfortable. He’s got nothing to hide, no shame holding him back. Hoping that you might take a leaf out of his book and do the same. He wants you to make the first move, tell him what you want. The captain’s an after thought now, someone he can deal with later if this goes any further. Again, it’s all down to you and if you’re willing to take him.

You sigh, gaze connecting with his “Ugh I preferred it when you were over there,” you say, pointing to the bar. “Not talking to me.” Flirting with him, your own form of self defence. Anything to dodge the serious conversation and chase a lighter one. Did you like him as much he liked you though?

A fine drizzle hits Johnny as he stumbles after you outside. He guides you under the shelter whilst you sort out a cab. You’re talking to him about the waiting time till next pick up, but he’s still wondering if he should just say what he’s thinking. He spends the fifteen minute drive to the house silent and you’re stealing glances at him, talking to the driver and thanking him when you exit the car.

You’re muttering under your breath, shouldering the front door open and tugging Johnny indoors with you. Johnny doesn’t think as he walks past you and heads upstairs, opening his bedroom door as if it’s still his.

“Johnny,” you snap, blinking up at him as he doesn’t answer whatever question you just threw at him. “Oh right, now you don’t talk?”

“That why you kissed me?” Johnny leans in, daring you to meet him halfway. He doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol spurring you on, but you don’t shrink nor do you break eye contact with him.

You shrug, stepping forward and tapping the cross he forgot to tuck under his shirt. “Maybe, you do talk an awful lot.”

“Then shut me up.”

“Ohh, don’t think the Captain will like that,” you say, clicking your tongue. He mirrors your smile, your eyes flitting to his lips.

"You do everything the Captain tells you?" Johnny asks, walking back as you enter the room and close the door. His heart thumping in his chest, the lock sliding into place. All, your doing.

“No, do you?” You grab the front of his shirt, but Johnny surges forward and presses his lips to yours. He doesn’t get a chance to reply, your fingers sinking into the hair at the nape of his neck. Pulling him closer to deepen the kiss, he hooks an arm around your waist and lifts you up, walking to the bed and dropping you on the unmade sheets.

The bed frame creaks as Johnny’s knee sinks into the mattress, his elbows caging you in and he leans down, nose nudging your jaw. Your hands slipping under his shirt, cold fingers tracing his skin.

•

“Wait,” you whisper, pushing his chest lightly. “Gotta change quickly.” Johnny shifts to the side allowing you space to climb out of the bed.

You try not to overthink it, undressing and throwing on an oversized T-shirt, the same one you wear to bed most nights. A little worn and fraying at the edge. You wipe the smudged makeup under your eyes and spray some deodorant. There’s nothing to overthink though as you turn round, Johnny’s laid on his stomach, arm hanging off the edge of the bed. His soft snores filling the room and you clamber over him, tucking yourself under the duvet and covering him too.

“Of course you’re a loud sleeper too,” you whisper, moving closer to Johnny. His warmth drawing you in. “How am I supposed to shut you up now?”

You wonder if he’ll be there in the morning, if he’ll still feel the same. Is it too soon? Maybe, but everything with Johnny felt natural and easy. You shouldn’t feel this way, not after everything else that happened. Part of you checked out of the last relationship months before you left…well you’d tried to leave a few times, but it never stuck.

Shouldn’t it feel like this? You want it to. Johnny murmurs in his sleep, face turning to you and body shifting, his arm draping over you as he pulls you closer. His tight embrace calming your racing heart and you melt into his hold, closing your eyes.

[Part thirteen]

I actually found Johnny's pov hard to write and I hope you enjoyed it. Ohhh John knows :O From this point on it's going to really angsty and hard…be prepared aahhh 🫡 please note I am dyslexic so there may be errors/mistakes. I do edit multiple times but miss out things - Leya

Taglist: @unclearblur @enfppuff @elita1 @tired-writer04 @kaoyamamegami @gallantys @leon-thot-kennedy @trulovekay @harley101399 @misshoneypaper @rpgsandstuff @tomatto1234 @lolyouresilly @madsothree @astrothedoll @grandfartvoid @delaynew @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @little-mini-me-world @exitingmusic @majocookie @elegancefr @jesskidding3 @thepowers-kat-be @frangiipanii @ye-olde-trash-panda @sleep101 @bluebarrybubblez @shitaaba @muraaaaaa @vajjaa @rafaelacallinybbay @jeannieboys @poetoflawed @idleviewer @darling006

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harrywavycurly · 12 days ago

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Father’s Day for Harry in WTF? I need some fluff🥹

Hiii lovey!! I will give you some Father’s Day fluff, I hope you enjoy! It’s short and sweet!💖

-find all things Worth The Fight here✨

CW: None

Summary: You do your best to make Harry feel loved on his first Father’s Day ✨

“Okay Nora let’s see we have fruit.” You mumble to your two week old daughter who is cradled in your arms as you slowly make your way around your kitchen. “Oh and French toast.” You say with a smile as you begin to plate it all together, placing the toast on first and then doing your best to put the fruit in a cute little design on top of it.

“Paris mate you’re gonna make me trip if you don’t get from under my feet.” You let out a chuckle as you hear Harry’s sleepy voice coming from down the hall.

“Your daddy is awake.” You whisper to the only slightly awake little girl in your arms as you turn to grab Harry’s new favorite glass that has the words ‘Dad Goals’ on it, and just as you go to pour some juice into it you hear a small little noise coming from the baby monitor that’s on the counter near the fridge. “Oh I think Eds is-” your words get cut off by the sound of Harry’s voice crackling through the speaker on the video monitor.

“Good morning -oh what’s that face for hmmm?” You smile as you stand there and watch Harry on the video monitor as he leans over the edge of the crib Edward is in. “Tell daddy what’s got you all upset.” Harry’s voice is soft and gentle as he scoops up his son that’s letting out small little whines. “Let’s get you changed and then see what mommy and your sister are up to how’s that sound?” You look down at Nora with a little giggle as Harry begins to change Edward, you turn back around and finish pouring Harry’s juice and setting up his breakfast.

“Let’s get this ready before your daddy-”

“Before her daddy what?” Harry’s voice makes you spin around, a slow grin spreads across his face as his eyes travel down to the little girl in your arms while your eyes look at the little boy he has tucked under his chin.

“None of your business.” You tease as you move to the side to try to block the view of his surprise breakfast.

“Oh-right yeah none of my business.” He says with a playful roll of his eyes as he takes a small step towards you. “Good morning cranky.” You smile up at him as he leans down and places a kiss to your lips.

“Good morning.” You respond as he pulls away. “Will you go sit down please?” Harry raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue as he gives your lips one more peck before turning and going to sit at the kitchen table.

“I don’t know Eds m’thinking those two are up to something.” He whispers as he gently places the baby boy in the bouncer next his seat. “Your mom is a sneaky thing and-”

“And what?” Harry just smiles as you stand in front of the table with his glass of juice.

“And we love you very much.” You let out a laugh as he gets comfortable in his seat so you can place his glass in front of him.

“I love you two very much as well.” You tell him as you walk around the table so Harry can take Nora from your arms.

“Good morning lovey what have you and mommy been doing this morning hmm?” He coos as he leans down to place a little kiss to the top of her head. “You two been-”

“Happy Father’s Day.” Harry looks up as you place his breakfast down on the table along with a little gift bag. You watch his face as he takes in the way you spelled dad out of fruit on top of his French toast. “The twins helped me pick that out.” You tell him as you push the gift bag closer to him, when he looks over at the bag you notice his eyes are a little glassy.

Harry looks up at you before he reaches out and grabs the gift bag. You chew on your bottom lip as he pulls out the tissue paper with one hand while he keeps Nora securely cradled to his chest. When he pulls out a small box he glances over at you with a quirked brow before looking back at the box and opening it. You watch Harry’s lips rub together as he looks at the ring, something that lets you know he is trying to keep his emotions under control.

“It’s-it’s beautiful.” His voice is thick as he plucks the ring from the box his eyes scan the stone, the twin’s birthstone. You smile as his eyes catch the engraving on the inside, their initials with a small heart next to it. “Thank you baby I-I love it.” He says with a few sniffles as you reach over and help slide the ring onto his index finger.

“Thank you for being so good to us.” Harry blinks a few times as tears roll down his cheeks, you walk over to the side of the table and leans down to place a kiss to the top of his head. “Now let me take her so you can eat your breakfast.” He looks up at you with a smile as you take Nora and put her in the bouncer next to Edward.

“I love you.” His words are soft as you take the seat across from him.

“I love you too Harry.” You tell him as he reaches over and grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze.

#worth the fight extras #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles drabble #harry styles fluff #dadrry #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles reader insert #harry styles request #harry styles x gf!reader #harry styles series #my little lanky baby #harry styles

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hedwig221b · 2 months ago

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Kinda random but do you know any fics where Derek calls Stiles baby or sweetheart (or something similar) and Stiles gets all flustered?

Can I offer you, like, my entire collection lmao 😭💖 It's baby, sweetheart, angel, kitten, sunshine... I love pet names

tbh when you mention sterek and pet names, siand is the first who comes to mind. Like, truly, a sterek pet name connossieur, and the one who got me addicted to 'kitten' as a pet name for Stiles

Tax Evasion by standinginanicedress

Stiles chews on his thumb a bit harder, and for a second he thinks about saying no. He thinks about letting the whole thing go and just going back to his life, the safe and easy way out. He considers just settling for someone who’ll never really get him, some boring guy who touches him the wrong way and buys him flowers sometimes. He’s been doing it for years upon years, now, and really, what’s a little bit longer? And then, what’s the rest of his life? What’s the worst that could happen, he wonders? Trying something is better than not trying at all.

Stars and Their Meanings by standinginanicedress

"You’re older,” Stiles begins counting, on his index, “you’re bad news,” on his middle, “you were recently accused of murder,” ring, “and we have not a damn thing in common,” his pinky. “I mean, come on. You just want to mess around with me if you want me at all.” “Mess around with you?” Derek shakes his head, like that blows his mind. “What is that supposed to mean?” Stiles waves his hand. “Like, ohh, you’re a bad boy, and I’m the Sheriff’s son, so it’s all so hot. I get it.”

Helen of Troy by standinginanicedress

Stiles can fake laugh, fake smile. He can play coy and he can be demure and barely eat anything in front of them, and he can sit still and do his little song and dance of feigning interest. But this is a little out of his scope. They want him to fully become someone else. They want him to be who everyone wants him to be, and it scares the shit out of Stiles, because he doesn’t know if he can do it for hours and hours while cameras watch his every single move. It’s a lot. It’s more than he bargained for.

You're My Sanctuary by lilmissdaydreamer

The Argent Wolf Sanctuary. It’s been Stiles’ dream since he was five years old to work with the wolves, ever since his mother took him up there to see the magnificent creatures on one of their ‘full moon runs’ that the Sanctuary does once a month. The wolves are beautiful and much larger than Stiles would’ve thought, or at least, the newest wolf is. The owner had said he’s a special breed. Stiles just didn’t realize quite how special he is.

You Were Already My Baby by SterekLoverForEver

Stiles would like to preface that he is NOT dating Derek. Even if Stiles wishes with all his heart, he knows he never has a chance with Derek. Stiles has seen such a positive change in Derek in almost 2 years of knowing him, and he doesn’t want to get in the way of his progress. Stiles has seen the hard work and dedication Derek has put in, Derek has become the most kind and special alpha the pack loves and relies on. Stiles knows that Derek has worked on uniting the pack together as well as developing a bond with each member of the pack. Derek has been able to level with each member and have their own unique friendship because he wants to be someone each member can turn to. While Stiles and Derek’s friendship may look different from the others, it’s only a friendship. So despite what others may say, Stiles would definitely know if he was in a relationship with the most perfect specimen that is Derek Hale. Or 6 Times (I couldn't help myself) Stiles Didn't Know He and Derek Were Dating + 1 Time He Did

Stay by wulfarchival (wyrmwolf)

In which Stiles just wants to loose his virginity and goes to The Jungle to do just that. But instead gets himself a hot Dom and a werewolf boyfriend. Except, he just doesn’t know about the werewolf part. Yet.

Baby by Little Spoon (JaydenNara)

When Stiles was fifteen, he dubbed Derek Sourwolf, and unfortunately for Derek, the name stuck. In retrospect, Derek didn't really mind all that much, especially if it was a breathless whimper in his ear. Funny thing is, Derek didn't have a pet name for Stiles.

The Arrangement by Arver7

Through blackmail and lies, Stiles and Derek are forced into a marriage neither of them wanted. If they each want to survive each other, they must learn to coexist. But the more they get to know each other, the more they seem to care about each other. But will the lies stop them from falling in love?

[masterlist link]

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maidragoste · 3 months ago

Text

Birthday

Ex Husband!Cregan Stark x Reader

A little more about ex-husband! Cregan, if you have any more ideas or questions about this universe, feel free to send them to my inbox 🤗🤗

Maybe in the next part I'll write something about a jealous Cregan, but I don't promise anything 👀

If you like this fic, please leave a like, comment, and reblog. That always motivates me to keep writing 🥰💖💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

I hope you have a good read!

Cregan would be lying if he said he wasn't a little depressed, but how could he not be when it's his birthday and you and Rickon are away from him?

Last year, he'd woken up with you in his arms, and you'd left kisses all over his face before wishing him a happy birthday. After that, the two of you kissed for a while until you heard Rickon wake up, so you forced Cregan to pretend he was still sleeping while you and your son went to the kitchen and made him breakfast.

But this year Cregan woke up alone, without your warmth or kisses, and there was no breakfast in bed. You were no longer his wife. And you and Rickon no longer lived with him. He would have to settle for talking to Rickon over FaceTime after his son came home from kindergarten. He was sure his son would sing him Happy Birthday and then show him the drawing he drew. Maybe if he is lucky you would join in too and sing happy birthday to him and the two of you could talk for a few minutes.

The sound of someone knocking on his office door made him check the time on his computer. It was noon, so it was probably his sister Sara wanting to get him out to lunch together. She'd already sent him several messages telling him not to get depressed and to work on his birthday.

“Come in,” he said as he put away the documents he had been working on, but the moment he heard your voice and Rickon’s singing Happy Birthday, his eyes instantly snapped away from the screen.

Cregan felt his heart race at the sight of you two, his favorite people, and he didn't even wait for the song to finish before he stood up and ran over to hug his son, scooping him up in his arms. He smiled at the sound of Rickon's laughter.

“Dad, you didn't let me finish the song!” the boy complained, clearly happy with his father hugging him and kissing his forehead.

“Sorry, I missed you so much,” he said, making you smile. “What's up with kindergarten?” he asked, looking at you.

“It's okay that he missed a few days. Besides, it's your birthday; you're more important,” you said the last part, trying to ignore the heat you felt on your cheeks.

“Thank you. This is the best gift,” Cregan said, approaching you. You didn’t back down, so he joined you in the hug and kissed your forehead, making you feel warm and fuzzy.

“It’s nothing,” you said sincerely. You hadn’t had to think about it much when you decided to come North with Rickon. Perhaps it was the same for Cregan when he found out you were sick. He wanted to be there for you, just as you wanted to be there for him.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @partypoison00 @labellapeaky @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie @partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2 @buckylahey @wa801 @artistadistrada2002 @thelastemzy @justanotherkpopstanlol @jacesvelaryons @aemondwhoresworld @cassiopeiablogg-blog @multiversemayhemme @dixie_elocin

#ex husband!cregan #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan x reader #cregan stark x y/n #cregan x you #cregan x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #hotd modern au #modern au #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #hotd fic #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine

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astars-things · 3 months ago

Text

Lover

summary- Oscar Piastri is dating popular sing y/n and y/n hard launches the relationship with her new song Lover (By Taylor Swift)

Photos from Pinterest I do not own them

Oscar Piastri x Singer!reader

liked by @.oscarpiastri @.Landonorris and others

@.y/nmusic working on something new...this one’s special. 🧡

view comments

@.user I'm sat and ready

@.selenagomez i heard it and let me just say… y’all aren’t ready

-> @.User2 you wanna spill the tea?

*liked by @.y/nmusic

@.oliviarodrigo can’t waittttt 😭💗

@.User3 LOVER ERA???? 👀👀

@.User4 why are Oscar and Lando in the likes???

@.oscarbabie just drop it already queen i’m fighting for my life

*liked by @.y/nmusic

@.user6 somebody bring her to the paddock again pls

@.f1teaonly THE MCLAREN BOYS ARE LURKINGGG

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liked by @.Landonorris @.Oscarlover and others

@.y/nmusic Lover is out now go stream it...

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@.oscarpiastri so who exactly is the inspiration for this one, hm? 👀

-> @.y/nmusic just some guy who drivers fast cars 🤷‍♀️

@.user6 I literally dropped my phone and gasped. the lyrics? the vibe? the love story???

@.user3 LOVER ERA ACTIVATEDDD 💖

@.user the orange flowers??? this is either about Oscar or Lando

-> @.User2 that looks like Lando!?

@.Oscarlover nahhhhh those flowers scream McLaren 🧡 but her leaning into him, it’s got that Oscar energy 😩

@.oliviarodrigo the way i sobbed at "I've loved you three summers now" ??? girl.

-> @.y/nmusic 🫣🫣

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liked by @.y/nmusic @.McLaren and others

@.oscarpiastri Can we always be this close forever and ever?

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@.charles_leclerc My son is all grown up 🥲

@.y/nmusic Forever sounds perfect my lover <3

->@.oscarpiastri just say when <3

@.user3 actual fairytale vibes like how is this real

@.Landonorris finally. now everyone can stop asking ME 😤

@.McLaren 🧡 🧡 🧡

@.logansargeant didn’t think you had it in you, mate. proud

->@.oscarpiastri 🤨

@.user1 crying bc this is HIS caption and HER lyric 🥺

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #f1 smau #f1 x reader #formula 1 #lando norris #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #op81 #mclaren

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nezukoo-channn · 6 months ago

Text

— giliw ko (Zayne x F!Reader)

Tags: Non-MC F!Reader x Zayne, Reader isn’t MC, Reader uses/gets addressed w female pronouns (she/her), Spanish colonial AU! Not historically accurate , Zayne, Reader, and Caleb are small children during this (around the ages of 7 to 12), appearances of Zayne and readers' parents, possibly OOC Zayne and Caleb , there are translations (not exactly word by word but I translated it based on what's the most accurate thought behind it, it's italicized beside or after the dialogue) , fluff, children making memories together (kids being kids) , different social classes (note that you and Zayne don't have the same social classes, explains why your family works for him)

A/N: this is my first time writing lnds fanfic so please be kind 🥹. this is the prologue of the main story, there will be a part 2! I haven't written in so long and I haven't written fanfiction for even longer, I'm so sorry for the OOC and the possible errors this fic had, I tried my best to proof read and do some editing and corrections. Any reblogs or form of love is appreciated by me thank you! 💖

Wc: 2.2k words

Dedicated to: @deusfoundry (thank you for being the first person who listened to my idea and supported me throughout its creation, I hope i don't disappoint you 🙇‍♀️)

Taglist for this fic : none yet

Divider by : @saradika-graphics

Prologue

⋆⁺₊❅。

Zayne remembers the first time he met you.

He was seven years old when his mother introduced you. His mother had looked around and asked if any child was perhaps his age who could get along with his quiet personality. Luckily, your mother, one of the maids that helped raised him, had you, a child around his age. As a child, you had long hair, bright eyes that shone under the bright morning light, and skin that glowed under the sun’s comfort. You step forward, bowing to him.

“Y/N.” You say, glancing up at him and stretching out a hand to him, waiting for him to accept it. “Ano ang pangngalan mo?” What's your name?

Zayne takes your hand and hovers his lips against yours. His mother’s eyes widened, surprised by her son’s actions. Meanwhile, yours stares in disbelief at his actions, yet no expression of disdain or anger paints their faces.

“Zayne.” He says, his quiet voice slips out of his tongue. “Ang pangngalan ko ay Zayne, binibining Y/N. Natutuwa kita makilala.” I'm Zayne, Miss Y/N. Nice to meet you.

Zayne remembers your bright laughter.

You shake your head at his introduction, remarking about how formal he sounds for a boy around the same age as you. He tries to defend himself, saying that he wanted to make a good impression and yet, you continue to laugh. You look up to your mother and his, remarking about the way he acted and greeted you out loud. Before your mother can scold you about your mouth and behavior, his laughs.

“Ganyan talaga siya, iha.” His mother remarks about her son’s behavior, “Parehas sila ng ama niya.” He's like that, my dear. Acts a lot like his father.

You nodded at their words, but honestly, you couldn't care any less. You look at Zayne, still standing in front of you. Taking his hand in yours , you made a beeline towards the outside. Your small feet pass through their family’s beautiful garden with various flowers, shrubs, and individuals who helped maintain it.

You stop every once in a while to appreciate its beautiful colors and sweet smells. You take a whiff of Jasmines, grab Santans that fell on the ground below, and carry Plumerias in your spare hand, dragging Zayne behind you at all times.

Past the garden, you weave through the grass and onto the vast plantation fields. It was already late in the morning, the plants tower over your small heads as the sun shines down. There were people working on the fields, making sure that the rice being planted can be eventually harvested once the season comes. You pass through them all, making sure to give way to yourself and your new friend (despite the sighs of the workers, mainly from your father and grandfather).

Meanwhile, inside, your mother and his laughs. “Ganyan ba talaga ang anak mo?” Is she always like this? She asks, her voice in disbelief. She glances outside, their silhouettes already gone. Her question was one of pure genuine curiosity rather than offense. Your mother looks up from what she is doing and nods.

“Opo, Señora. Ganyan talaga ang anak ko.” Yes, she's always like that. Your mother answers and proceeds to resume her cleaning. His mother smiles, giving a nod of approval before leaving.

Zayne remembers what the first few days of his life was with you in the picture.

Most days, he was quiet and observant, kept to himself, liked to read and follow his parents, who were doctors in their small town, everywhere. He observes the way they treat patients, going above and beyond to help others in need in their small barrio. He was exposed to various people of various ages and social classes but would watch from afar, making sure he wouldn’t disturb his parents’ work.

But ever since you came…things slowly changed.

He’d still follow his parents around, but everytime you wanted to play and talk to him, he’d drop what he was doing to accompany you. You laugh, talking to him in what little Spanish and mostly Tagalog you knew and he’d listen along. Most days start early with you helping around the house. Your mother and the other maids would give you little tasks to do, like cleaning up and wiping down the tables to keep you entertained for a while until Zayne was awake and spent the whole day together.

However, your most important task was given by Zayne’s mother, days after you two had met and begun to get along.

“Iha,” Dear His mother calls for you and you approach, dusting your skirt the way you saw your mother and women do when she calls for them.

“Opo, Señora?” Yes , Maam? Your high-pitched voice replies.

“Masaya ka rito? Kumusta kayo ng anak ko? Narinig ko sa ina mo na palaging kayo naglalaro at tinuturuan ka rin niya magbasa?” Are you enjoying it here? How are you and Zayne? I heard from your mother that you two play together often and he's been teaching you how to read?

You nod immediately and begin to ramble about the various activities the two of you like to do together, such as him teaching you how to read and write, and in turn, you teach him to play various kids games you knew and help him slowly break out of his quiet exterior. His mother nods along, smiling at your anecdotes. Once you are done, you realize what happened . You look down at the ground, trying to avoid her gaze.

“Lo..lo siento, Señora…” I'm sorry, Maam. You whisper in apology. She waves her hand, dismissing it. You glance up, and a smile returns to your face.

“Natutuwa ako, iha. Saan magpatuloy ito dahil hindi ko pa nakita na palaging ngumiti ang anak ko.” I'm glad to hear that, my dear. I hope it continues because I haven't seen my son smile so frequently. She smiles before dismissing you off. You thank her before running to Zayne’s room upstairs, ready to start a new day with him.

You remember how you two played with each other.

Your hands intertwined as you ran through the fields. He greets workers a pleasant morning before you continue to drag him along. Far away from the fields, you both reach a small clearing. It was mostly flat, with several trees standing tall to shade you both. There you spend your days together, playing and laughing. Zayne would tease you, and in turn, you tease him back. There were days he’d bring books, teaching you how to read and write your names in the dirt. In turn, you teach him how to climb a tree (which didn’t go as planned) and how to play the games you knew until lunch comes around and you both head back home.

After lunch, the house is silent. You and Zayne find your own small space in a large house to simply do one thing: to take an afternoon nap before playing with each other throughout the afternoon until dinner.

That was your routine everyday. Some other days had exceptions, but it felt exciting as you two played and knew more about each other. You knew that Zayne likes stray kittens or any feline in general, and hates carrots, picking at his food whenever there was the sight of it. It was the exact reason why your grandmother, the one who cooks at his family's, always removed carrots from his meals.

Most of all, you know that you are one of his friends—his only friend maybe, but for the ever quiet and observant Zayne, that was enough.

Besides you being Zayne’s friend, your playmate, a boy around your age named Caleb joined along.

You three did everything together despite your different backgrounds and families. It didn't seem to be a problem as you were children , barely the ages of 10, enjoying what it's like to be children.

However, that all came to an end one afternoon.

You three were playing at your usual spot, with Zayne quietly leaning against the tall tree, Caleb lying down against the blades of grass, laughing , and you, standing over both boys with a large grin on your face. You were gloating about how you finally won against Caleb in a game of tag while he groaned in annoyance , grumbling about your loud and obnoxious behavior.

“Ang ingay…” Zayne grumbles teasingly, “Ano ba ka? Isang bata?” You're so loud...what are you? A baby?

You glance up at him. “At ano ka ba?” You retorted, “Isang matandang tao?” And what are you? An old man?

He sighs.

Silence slowly begins to envelope you three as you join them, sitting down on the grassy fields. The sun had begun to set, showing a various array of different colors. Red bleeds into orange and yellow, with shades of pink appearing to dot the horizon as well.

“Aalis ako dito.” I'm leaving. Zayne says. You and Caleb pause, glancing up to him. You stared at him in disbelief, thinking he was kidding.

“Huh?!” You and Caleb spit out, staring in disbelief of his words. “Bakit?” Why?

“Pupunta ako sa Maynila…at baka naman sa Europa or sa Asya , hindi ko pa alam—para mag-aral ng medisina.” I'm leaving for Manila, and maybe Europe or other parts of Asia, Im not sure yet— but Im leaving to study medicine one day. Zayne answers.

Manila was a large place, the crown jewel of the Philippines and the seat of Spanish colonial authority. It is the place where people go to and, in turn, leave their families behind for a hope of a better life for them.

Manila is the place where dreamers live, where the tall walls and gates in Intramuros block the rich and known from everyone else.

You remember stories about your parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, visiting the city of Manila. You remember how your eyes brightened with excitement as you wanted to know more about her beauty.

Manila is a flame, and all the people flock like moths towards it.

And Europe.

It was even bigger than Manila, a whole continent, even. The seats of Imperial powers. The place that only a lucky few that have the right money and privilege can feel her luxurious embrace.

If Manila was like winning one lottery ticket , then going to Europe was like winning the whole casino.

You and Caleb look at each other. Zayne was leaving. You don't know when you'll see him again, or if you'll ever see him either. You kept a bare face, trying not to let the tears from your eyes fall. Caleb got up from the grass and squeezed your hand.

“Talaga?” Your voice says, almost cracking from the shock. “Aalis ka?” Really? You're leaving?

Zayne nods, confirming his fate.

“Kailan ka babalik?” Will you return? Was your next question.

Zayne shrugs his shoulders. “H…hindi ko alam kung kailan…” I don't know when.

You pause. He wasn't sure when he's coming back. You aren't sure if he's even coming back alive in the first place— would he even remember all the times you played together if he leaves? What if he doesn't come back? You sniffle, trying to wipe the invisible tears from your face.

Caleb was quiet. He stares at Zayne as well. He knows that Zayne leaving would break your heart. He gets up and approaches, pulling you and Zayne into a tight hug.

Zayne didn't know if he'll be able to live with your heart broken for a dream beyond the comforts of the province.

And that's when you started to cry.

You sobbed, staining everyone's clothes with snot as you sniffled. You wiped your tears, grumbling a thing or two about the way you're acting. Tears continue to stream down your face as it becomes hard for you to breathe, your throat closing up from all the tears you exhuasted out. Zayne and Caleb noticed your struggle and step away, giving you the needed space to breathe.

No words were exchanged between you three as you held each other and cried until sun down. You helped wipe each other's tears before looking back at the direction of home and begin to walk home, taking slow steps to absorb one of the last moments you three had together before reality stepped in.

You remembered the day Zayne left.

You were helping your mother and the other women clean the house when Zayne approached you, his father standing a bit farther away. He was dressed up nicely, in clothes similar to boys his age and around his social circle. His hair was done as well, his black strands in place.

You dusted your skirt, pressed the wrinkled ends of your blouse and fixed your messy hair. Your hands still had invisible dust stuck onto them, yet you tried to get rid of it.

It was a stark contrast between the both of you.

A reminder that in the end, he was a son of rich doctors from notable families.

And, there was you. Just an ordinary girl, born to ordinary parents , and set out to live an ordinary life.

At least, in the few years that you knew each other, social classes and privilege never mattered.

“Aalis na ako.” I'm leaving. He says, taking your hand in his. He lowers his lips against it, placing a soft kiss. You wipe a tear from your eye with your other hand, trying not to cry. He lets go of your hand, picking something from his pocket before handing it to you.

You tilt your head, staring at the small thing beneath your palms. It was a small flower, its colors faded. Its beautiful White turned into a soft Brown. The sweet smell laced lightly across its small petals. You held the small flower on the palm of your hand and smiled.

“Ang Ganda…” Its beautiful... You whisper in amazement. He nods, smiling as well.

“Bibigyan kita ng maraming magandang bulaklak sa pagbalik ko…” I'll bring you beautiful flowers when I return..

He promises. His father calls for him, making Zayne look away from you and return to his Father. You waved goodbye to each other, seeing them leave the house and close the door behind them.

You glanced down at the flower again, before placing the dried flower inside your pocket, patting it gently before getting back to work.

#nezukoo-channn #nezukoo channn #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #zayne x reader #zayne x you #reader is not mc #nezu-writes #nezu-fics #zayne #li shen #zayne li #lads #lnds zayne #nezukoo-channn writings #lnds x reader #lnds x you

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kamiraaah · 7 months ago

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LOOK AT HIM!!! BEAUTIFUL BOY!!!

hE'S JUST SO.... 🤏😭 LOOK AT HIM GO!!!!💕💕

HE'S JUST A LITTLE GUY!!!! 💕💞❤️💗💖🥹 💝💘🩷🧡💛 SILLY LITTLE GUY!!🥺💕💖💗🧡💛

YES YOU WILL MY SON!!! 🥹💞😭💕💛🩷😭😭

DO YOU WANT THE WORLD? THE MOON? THE STARS??? I WILL GIVE EVERYTHING TO YOU!!!!

Now let's see his groovy? Surely its gonna be amazing!! Hahaha no I'M NOT SCARED WHAT YOU MEAN???????

.....oh?

😦oh..... Oh......OH.... 😧 OOOOOOOOOH MY GOD😢😭💗💕❤️❤️💛 OH MY GOD MY GOD WHAT WAIT WAIT THIS IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GROOVY IN THE WORLD????😔💖💘😢💝😢😭🥹💘😩 ✨️HIS EYES SHINING????✨️ HIS EXPRESSION ??!?! THE TINY FANGS?!?!?!??!! ✨️😫THE BACKGROUND THE POSE OH MY GOD EVERYTHING IS SO PERFECT!!!!!! I'M NEED A MINUTE- MY HEART-!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭

#twst jp #twst jp spoilers #twst ruggie #ruggie bucchi #IM WRITING IT AS I GO TO WORK SO SORRY IF ANYTHING IS WRONG HERE IM JUST DJJEJSNSNDN #MY BOY #THIS IS MY BOY #MY SON!!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡#THE PERFECT CARD #RUGGIE BUCCHI MY BELOVED MY STAR 😭😭😭💘💘💘

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago

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Meet the Family 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: gotta right my final reflection today and then I don't have schoolwork for a while!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“So, when is the wedding?” Lillians asks over a half-empty plate.

You take your time chewing. You don’t have an answer. As far as you’re concerned, this is Lloyd’s plot so he can come up with the detail. You're here to enjoy the wine.

“Uh, the spring,” he blurts out.

“The spring?” Gwenyth repeats. “Don’t you have a specific date?”

“Erm, May something...” Lloyd says.

“May? That’s so soon. If you don’t even have a date, I doubt you have a venue or a dress or--” Lillian counters.

“Oh, well, we were thinking of. Er...” Lloyd turns his fork in this hand. “Eloping?”

“Eloping,” Gwenyth hisses. “Eloping? Does that mean we’re not invited? It’s simply not fair.”

“Mom, I--”

“Gwen, he didn’t say that, did he?”

“Well, dad--”

“We are invited,” William states. It’s not a question.

“You see what happens?” Gwen takes her cloth napkin and folds it, dabbing her tearless eyes, “the groom’s mother is always excluded. He is my son--”

“A destination wedding would be nice,” William suggests.

“Uh, of course. Yeah. We’d like to go somewhere far away, but uh, not far from you...” Lloyd stammers and you kick his foot. You could laugh at how flustered he is if you were entwined in his lies. He sits straighter, “We’ll have the invitations out soon. Everyone’s invited of course--”

You kick him again. He slips his hand on your knee and squeezes, “we’re still figuring things out,” he declares.

“Oh, it seems so!” Gwenyth clasps the napkin between her hands. “Darling, you must let me help. And Lillian. Her wedding was fabulous.”

“Which one?” Lloyd snickers.

“We’ll see if you even have one,” his sister retorts.

He cackles and William sighs.

“Yes, weddings. All that mess,” William drawls. “The ladies can suss out the details but I do believe it’s time for the yearly rematch.”

“You still do that?” Lloyd asks.

“Hm, of course. It is a tradition. What’s the matter? You too old, boy?”

“Speak for yourself,” Lloyd bounces back, shocking you with the snipe.

Another surprise, William laughs.

“Ben may need to sit out,” William suggests.

“Oh, to the contrary, old boy, I’ve had just enough bourbon that I am a prized asset in my state,” the man with the fluffy ash hair doffs his mug.

“Hm, yes, Carter, Linus, Ransom, Ben, myself, Lloyd,” William counts on his fingers, “Dawson, Lewis, Hudson, and Owen. Quite the lineup this year.”

You look at Lloyd confused. He doesn’t look excited. You reach under the table and move his hand off your leg. He flinches and glances over at you.

“Is this some sort of cribbage tournament?” You scoff under your breath.

He shakes his head. “Touch football...”

“Football...” You peer across the table with concerns. At least four of the players named are a bit too old to be running around in the snow.

“It’s fine. Just like tag,” Lloyd shrugs unconvincingly. You chew your lip as you consider him. His eyes follow the movement and you stop yourself. “What?” He asks.

“I’m just trying to picture it,” you say. “You don’t seem like a football person.”

“What does that mean? You don’t seem like one either? What would you know?” You hiss back.

“Ah, dear,” William calls across the table, “do not fear for his safety. We are all family, no one means to hurt each other.”

Despite his assurance, you’re even less convinced that there won’t be some horrible accident. Again, you remind yourself, it’s Lloyd’s problems. Your sole focus is the money. And the wine.

You reach to drain your glass, “I’m not worried at all,” you smile, “oh, and honey,” you turn to Lloyd, “you never asked but I love football. I’m a big Bills fan, actually. Remember, laces out.”

Lloyd grumbles and stands. The other men do in a lazy succession. They stretch and groan over the scraping chair legs. The women rise too and start to clear the table. You’re not a fan of that divide; the men get their fun and the women get to tidy, but you will not be as rude as they’ve accused you.

You start to gather cutlery and plates. Lloyd startles you as he puts his hand on your hip to stop you. You face him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” He says.

You bat your lashes and smirk. You’re amused that he thinks you’re that concerned.

“Oh, I’m sure you can handle a game of tag, but you might want to stretch. There’s no one you can pay to run the ball for you,” you snort.

You move past him and follow Lillian. He huffs as you leave him to the rabble of old man talking trash. As you enter the kitchen, Lillian sets the plates on the counter and you put yours next to hers. You take the top one and scrape it clean.

“You’ll enjoy it. It’s always a good show. I am interested to see the teams this year,” she trills. “Of course, without Lloyd around for so long, I had to step in. Unfortunately, this year, I'm in no condition to lace up.”

“Oh, it sounds like a fun tradition,” you remark.

“It’s wonderful fun,” she assures as Gwenyth enters. Lillian shifts closer and lowers her voice, “also, you might want to consider, Lloyd wasn’t keeping us from you, perhaps it was the opposite. We are a rather selective bunch.”

You meet her bruising sneer and smile. The wine helps drown your agitation. Why should you be bothered? Once you have your money, it won’t worry what the bloated bitch thinks? Oops, let’s keep those thoughts inside.

“Oh, I’ll be sure to thank him for that,” you wink. She frowns.

“Leave the plates at the sink, ladies,” Gwenyth commands. “Let’s grab out coats! The powder’s fresh. It’ll be a good match.”

It’s odd. You really didn’t take this horde of pretentious ghouls as the football type. Well, maybe not the NFL-watching, tailgating type in pickups or minivans. Still, you can’t help but be a little amped for a Christmas game.

There’s a crunch at the front door. Andrea, Angela, and Raquel warble with Gwenyth, as Shanna, Linda, and Lana come over to admire Lillian’s bump and ask her about the birth plans, while you stand to the side and watch Beatrice with a few younger girls, the elder daughters from all those pairing, who are less than enthused about the whole show. The parade of names escape you though you hardly wonder who is who.

Your eyes wander to the next room. The younger kids are kept busy before the large Christmas tree by women you haven’t been introduced too. You assume those are the nannies Lloyd mentioned. It’s rather grim, a family divided as if the younger generation were a nuisance. Despite the enthusiasm for Lillian’s coming child, the poor soul will only end up at kids’ table apart from their mother.

The men chatter near the open door as a brisk wind flows in. As you reach for your coat, you collide with another. You turn in the tight space to face Ransom as he cracks his neck.

“You going to cheer me on, baby girl?” He smirks at you.

You stare at him crisply. You continue to pull your coat on as you censor the variations of ‘hell no’ rolling through your mind. You look around for an escape but there isn’t one. The entry way is packed with bodies.

“It will be cathartic. You’d just be cheering on the team, not necessarily, cheering against your beloved fiance,” he snickers.

You look at him dully, “oh, I'm certain you’ll run circles around a team full of middle aged and elder men.”

“You love to see it,” he grins and reaches around you. Before you can react, he pinches your ass again. You hit his chest as he pulls away and rubs his fingertips together, “for good luck.”

“You’re nasty.”

“Look at who you came with, sweetheart,” he sticks his tongue out and turns away. “But I understand if it’s my ass you’re watching out in the snow.”

You curl your lip as you zip up your coat and shuffle over near the women. The men disburse through the front door ahead of you. They holler at each other, pointing impatiently, “over there.”; “Ben, too far”, “No, you snap--”

You watch them break into team in the snowy street, barren of cars in the calm of Christmas Day. You tuck your hands into your pocket as you stand along the curb and the other women puff clouds into the frigid air. Lazy flakes swirl down and add to the glowing ambiance of the wintry midday.

William, Ransom, Linus, Dawson, and Hudson huddle on one side with the ball as the others, Benson, Lloyd, Carter, Lewis, and Owen watch, waiting to respond to the first play. You’re not expecting anything more than wobbling throws and clumsy runs, still, it’s better than arguing at the dinner table.

Ransom gets down to snap to William. The ball passes hands as Dawson runs a route and Ransom and Linus block the front light. Hudson takes the running backs route for the fake handoff before William searches for his receiver. Not bad for amateurs, especially given the demographic.

The ball is caught as Owen makes the touch. No proper tackle, just a tap on Dawson’s shoulders. The play end as the next play is called in the huddle. Instead of moving down the street, the team resets at the same line, counting yard from that point.

Another snap. The run is stuffed as Lloyd makes the touch on Hudson, almost indifferent about the play. The women cheer but not at the right times. They’re not really paying attention as they garble about desserts or their hair stylists.

“You know what would be perfect, some mulled cider,” Beatrice suggests. The comment does make you thirsty but you’re not so sure you’d trade the cold outside for that inside.

The ball switches possessions. Lloyd takes the snap. You’re a bit surprised but Benson is swaying in his blocking position. That’s less shocking.

Snap. A pass. Straight and on target. Carter, one of William’s brothers, makes the catch and runs for ten more. Or what’s assumed to be that man.

A new call. Lloyd rambles out signals in a parody of a real game. “Blood. Wine. Beemer, beemer beemer. Black sheep...” Your eye is drawn by Ransom as he shifts low. You tilt your head.

“Offside,” you mutter as the ball snaps. Ransom’s across the line before the blockers can react and before the ball can change hands. In an instant, Lloyd is in the snow beneath the other man.

“Oh my!” “Gosh.” “Ransom...” The concern washes over the audience of women as the men stop the play and turn to look at the two men in the snow.

The latch onto each other in a toothless brawl. Lloyd knocks Ransom into the snow and grabs his neck. Ransom grips him in turn and they roll back and forth, trying to throttle each other. The other men move to separate them.

“You two,” William booms.

“Oh, Ransom, what are you doing?” Linda rushes over.

“Linda,” William growls as Lloyd is dragged away from her son. “We were kind in letting him come here after everything--”

“Oh, don’t blame him. Your son is just as bad.”

“My son has a job,” William snarls back.

“Don’t worry, that cuck barely got a ding on me,” Lloyd sneers as he shrugs the other men off. There’s a raw and red patch on his cheek bone and snow in his mussed hair. Scratches peek out above his collar as he coughs.

“Fucker’s weak as pudding,” Ransom jeers back.

“Both of you. That’s disgusting,” William growls. “Enough. Both of you, benched.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Lloyd whines.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re ruining the game,” William says. “Both of you, go inside.”

“He antagonized him,” Linda squalls, “you heard his play call--”

“Your son’s grown. He can handle words,” William rebuffs. “You can go inside with them.”

You’re disappointed. It wasn’t bad while it lasted. Lloyd chuffs and steps around his father. Several bodies move to keep him away from Ransom. He rolls his eyes and waves them off.

“He’s not worth it,” he stomps over to you. “Whatever, let’s get some hot chocolate or some shit. Better than standing in the snow with a bunch of geezers.”

He grabs your arm and you have no choice but to let him lead you away. You can hear Ransom pleading his own case, whining at his mom, as she huffs and sighs. The argument fades as you near the front door.

Lloyd pushes through and drags you in with him. He checks his reflection in the wall mirror, fixing his hair as he winces. He left his coat and blazer inside, wearing only his black turtleneck, now wet from the snow and streaked with salt along his back. He shakes his head at himself.

You undo your coat and hang it. You almost want to call it a day. You came to brunch, you faced the wolves, and there isn’t enough wine to make them tolerable.

He touches his cheek and hisses, “ugh, bastard.”

“Hard hit,” you say.

“Sure was. Who knew the brat had it in him?” He gingerly presses his cheekbone, “ugh, well, Pix, how about you kiss it better?”

“What?” You grimace. “No way.”

“But it hurts,” he turns to you and pushes his bottom lip out.

“Uh uh,” you cross your arms. “We need to talk. About the wedding.”

“Really? You wanna talk about that?”

“Lloyd, I said a courthouse.”

“I know but...” he pauses and glances around the entry way, “come on.”

He ushers you down the hall and into the bathroom. He shuts the door and you’re once more trapped in the tight space with a Hansen twin. He stands in front of the door as he faces you.

“Look, I’m just trying to get this done. It’s good for both of us. You want your money, don’t you? So you need to play along.”

“I am.”

“It’s just a fucking ceremony and a dinner.” He argues.

“It’s not what I agreed too.”

“Yeah, well, we have to be convincing if we want our prize.”

You scowl, “I really am not enjoying this whole ‘we’ narrative.”

“That’s the script, Pixie pie. So put a little bit of energy into it.” He steps closer and you stiffen as he puts his hands on your shoulders. “Loosen up and you might actually have a bit of fun.”

“It was supposed to be the holiday and the courthouse,” you insist.

“Not good enough. We both know it.”

“I want more money,” you grit.

He pouts again, “you drive a hard bargain for such a soft little thing.”

You push him away as he goes to stroke his cheek.

“Two million. I’m not wearing a white dress for anything less.”

“Baby, please, you’re bleeding me dry--”

“I’m not blind, Lloyd.” You look around emphatically, “I know what I’m asking for is a fraction of what you’ll get. I’ve worked for you long enough to know your tactics. Whatever I ask, I’m being undersold. Two or I walk right now.”

He takes a deep breath and lets it out, “let me just see a little ass.”

You blink, stunned by his barter. You shake your head. “Not for a three million.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re so damn stubborn. I like it but I also hate it,” he sighs. “Two,” he pulls his hand free and offers it. You shake it with a triumphant smirk. “Let’s seal that the right way.”

He tightens his hold on you as he grabs the back of your head and bends to smother you with a bristly kiss. You squeak before you can pull away. You scoff at him and yank your hand free to wipe your lips.

“It’s gonna happen, Pixie,” he grins. “Trust.”

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