#because he seemed so silently supportive in season one

[mystycalypso]

Screw it, nonsense theory for season 2

They're related.

My evidence?

Traits both of them have:

Messy Brown hair

Love breaking and entering

Pair turquoise with orange

Eyewear on at all times

Hated by Theodore Peterson with a passion

Chin swirl

Freckles

5 o'clock shadows as adult

Not sitting straight

Stick their nose in others business

Autism

Also Quentin is one of the only Hello Neighbor characters without a last name. Suspicious.

"Oh but Nicky's dad's name is Jay-" In the books. But also the books both are and aren't canon apparently and also as someone who works in radio/news, we use fake names in the industry all the time. So like Quentin could totally be a fake name just saying. I could be totally right here.

[mrsbarnesblog]

Jersey

masterlist ko-fi ao3

College! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected.

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: smut, established relationship, college, football player bucky is a biggest warning tbh, he's so in love, locker room sex, nat is good friend, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

Author's note: honestly one of my favorite fics because college athlete bucky is my biggest weakness (I should probably write about him more often)💘

It’s been another game for the "Avengers", where your boyfriend Bucky Barnes was a quarterback. Today was one of the most important games against "Hydra" – their biggest enemy. Obviously, you couldn't miss the game, and Natasha, your best friend and roommate, will be with you as always. And right now, she has convinced you to do something that has been on your mind for a long time.

"C’mon, It’ll be fun. He’ll like it, I promise!" She said as you two stood near the place that made custom t-shirts with any prints. And at this moment, Natasha wanted you to order a jersey with Bucky’s number and his name on it.

"I don’t know, Nat. I mean, I want to do it, but what if he thinks that it’s too much?" You nervously played with the hem of your skirt.

"Now stop it." She stood before you and put her hand on her hips like a mother who was scolding her child. "You’ve been dating for more than a year, and his guy loves you so fucking much that he can’t even tear his eyes from you every time you two are in the same room. So when I tell you that he’ll love it, I mean it." You silently looked at her for a few minutes, but when she questionably raised her eyebrow, you finally gave up.

"Fine, you won. I hate you."

"I love you too, baby." Nat chuckled and dragged you to the store.

It seemed like there were thousands of people because everyone wanted to see one of the most important games of the season. People were already taking their seats, but you and Nat went straight to the locker room to wish the guys good luck. Trainer Fury was very strict about this, and it was forbidden for people not from the team to go there, but for some reason Nat always found a way to solve this problem.

"Guys!" Natasha loudly knocked at the door. "Are all of you already dressed up? I’m not in the mood to see somebody’s ass today!"

"Come in!" You heard Thor’s loud voice.

"Oh, I see our support group is here." As soon as you two walked in, Sam ended up between you and Nat and threw his hands over your shoulders, leading you deeper into the room. "Barnes will be here soon; don’t worry."

"Okay. Are you guys ready to beat their asses?" You smiled and looked at the almost entire team that had come to see you and Nat.

"Don’t worry, Sweets, we’ll win, as always." Tony answered you while he was cleaning his helmet. "But you should tell your boyfriend to stay away from Rumlow, or else he’ll be suspended again. By the way, is that jersey with his name?" You quietly nodded as the whole team made an impressive ‘woo’ together.

"You two are disgustingly sweet, you know that?" Sam rolled his eyes, and at the same time, the door slammed. "It’s him; go give him some kisses for luck."

"Shut up, Samuel." You laughed and left their little circle to find Bucky looking at his phone. "Don’t you want to say hi, James?" He moved his eyes to you, and his face immediately lit up with happiness.

"I just wanted to text you." He threw his phone on the bench and came closer to wrap his arms around you. "Hi, doll. I missed you so much today." He mumbled into your neck.

"I missed you too, Buck." You smiled when your heart filled with all the love you had for that man. "But wait, I have to show you something." You slipped out of his hands, excited and nervous at the same time. "Look what I’ve got!" You happily turned around to show Bucky your back and flipped your hair to the side so he could see everything better. "Do you like it?"

You had a big red jersey on you, to which Bucky didn't even pay attention at first. But when you turned around, his mouth went dry and his whole body became fuzzy. You had his number 17 and the word "Barnes" on your back. You were wearing his last name on your back.

For a few seconds, he was silent. He didn't answer your answer either, so with confusion written on your face, you faced him again, only to see a weird look on his face.

"What? You don't like it? Should I take this off? I'm sorry…" You started to apologize, only to be interrupted by his low voice.

"Don't you dare take this off, Y/N." He suddenly came closer to you again, and the next thing you knew, your back was slapped against the metal lockers when Bucky’s lips attacked you. He kissed you passionately and deeply, pressing his body against yours as if he was desperate to touch you and feel you closer. You couldn’t hold back the quiet moan that escaped your mouth when he tilted your head with his hand, helping his tongue slip into your mouth.

You thought that you heard the screams of the boys on the other side of the room, but they were really muffled when your head was filled with the thought of your boyfriend’s soft lips and warm skin. Bucky finally broke the kiss, leaving you two catching your breath while he put his forehead on yours and closed his eyes.

"You don’t understand what you’re doing to me. You look so fucking hot in this jersey, I want to fuck you right now." He whispered so only you could hear. "You made me hard, doll." To prove his words, he pushed his hips a little bit closer to you so you could feel the hardness.

"‘M sorry; I didn’t know that you would react like that."

"Hey, Buck, we should already go." Bucky’s grip on your waist became only tighter, when he heard Steve’s voice, and he nuzzled into your neck.

"Give me a minute."

"The game is gonna start soon."

"I said, give me a minute, Steve!" He said it louder. Bucky deeply inhaled, and it was obvious that he just needed some time to calm down.

"Shh, it’s okay, James." You put your hands through his hair because you knew that it would instantly relax him. "You're gonna win this game, right? And without fights." 

"I’ll do everything for you. I just love you so much, doll." He whispered into your neck when his body finally relaxed and he was able to move away from you.

"I love you too, James." He quickly kissed you again before turning around to face the team, who had knowing smirks on their faces.

"You two should get a room." Sam had an annoyed look on his face.

"Don’t worry, Birdbrain, we will. Are you ready for the game, or are you gonna stand here and complain all day?" Bucky winked at you and went out of the room without waiting for the answer from Sam.

"So…" Natasha suddenly appeared near you. "Did you make The White Wolf hard by just wearing a shirt with his name on it?" She grinned, as it was her original plan that worked.

"Oh, shut up!"

The game was tough. Hydra played dirty as always, and Bucky almost got into a fight with Rumlow during the intense moment. You almost jumped out of the seat during the last few minutes of the game, and when "Avengers" finally won, you and Natsha screamed at the top of your lungs.

As soon as the team was done cheering and hugging, Bucky looked at the seat where you were supposed to be but saw only Nat, who pointed at you already standing near the rim. He ran to you with the biggest smile on his face, and when he finally reached you, he crushed his lips into yours.

You didn’t care that many people looked at you, even though you knew that some particular groups of girls would gossip about it for the next week because… well, everyone wanted your boyfriend. You just wrapped your hands around his sweaty neck and pulled him closer to you as far as you could with a fence between you two.

"I’m so proud of you, baby." You whispered into his lips. "You were amazing as always."

"Thank you, doll. I'm happy that you’re here with me." He looked into your eyes as his right thumb rubbed your cheek.

"You know I couldn’t miss your game, especially if it’s that important."

"Mhm, can you… come to the locker room in like twenty minutes?" Bucky nervously licked his lips.

"To the locker room? I thought we were going to celebrate it with the team as always."

"Maybe later, but I’m thinking of something, so come, ‘kay?" He started to go back to the field, but not before giving you another sweet kiss on the lips.

***

You sat in the cafeteria for about twenty minutes, passionately waiting for the appropriate time to go to the locker room because you really didn’t want to see another naked man that wasn’t your boyfriend. One such experience was enough for you. You asked Nat to come with you, but when you repeated Bucky’s words to her, she just gave you a mysterious smirk and patted you on the shoulder, saying that you better go there alone.

When you finally got there and knocked on the door, you heard only Bucky’s voice, who told you to come in.

"James? What’s going on?" You asked as you came further into the room. It was empty except for Bucky, who came out of nowhere and locked the door. "What are you doing?"

He didn’t answer you; he just crossed the room, kissed you, and pushed your back into the metal lockers, just as he did it a few hours ago. He was greedy, passionate, and a little bit too rough, so you couldn’t keep the moan from escaping your mouth. Bucky’s hands squeezed your hips and then went higher under your jersey.

"Bucky…" You pulled away from the kiss, but he took advantage of it and started kissing your neck. Your eyes rolled back as you squeezed his shoulders and completely forgot everything you wanted to say. He sucked your soft skin into his mouth and even bit you. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to leave dark marks on your neck, but, honestly, you didn’t care. He smelled too good fresh out of the shower, with his bare chest and low-rise gray sweatpants, and his mouth… God, you knew what his mouth could do. "Baby, we can’t do it here."

"We can, and we will." He left your neck and looked at you, leaving only a few inches between your faces. "You can’t imagine how hard it was for me not to bend you over the closest surface when you showed me that fucking shirt. With my name on it? So everyone could see that you’re mine?" Bucky licked his already swollen lips. You pressed your thighs together, feeling how wet you were. He definitely felt that motion because his eyes became darker, and he looked like he was going to devour you at that same place.

"James…" You quietly whimpered, not being able to hold yourself anymore.

"Baby, fuck– doll, I love it when you call me that. You drive me insane." He decided not to lose any more time, so his hands went straight to the button of your jeans. He helped you get out of them, not losing a chance to touch your bare legs. "Now turn around, baby." You heard a deep moan, probably when he saw the back of the shirt again.

"Bucky, please." You whispered when you felt that more juices came out of you. You loved when your boyfriend became needy and possessive.

"Look at you, doll. You're already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet." He said that when he put his hand over your pussy, he probably felt the heat and pulse. "I would’ve eaten you out, but I need you too fucking much, so I promise to do it when we get to my place."

"O-okay, just do something, please." You pushed your ass back and heard a loud, deep moan as soon as you touched Bucky’s hard cock through his pants. You put your hands behind your back to try to push down his clothes, and at the same time, Bucky removed your black thongs.

You felt his hard cock on the bare skin of your ass, the tip already leaking with pre-cum. Bucky squeezed your ass with his hands and moved his hips. His perfectly shaped cock grinded against your wet folds, and you couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping your throat.

"Please, don’t tease me–" You didn’t even finish the sentence when Bucky moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. The mixture of pain and pleasure washed over you, and you didn’t even realize that you moaned too loudly. He was too perfect, filling you completely and stretching you around him in the most delicious way.

"Sh-h, sweetheart, you don’t want other people to hear you, right?" One of Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt and laid on your stomach, and the other one covered your mouth, pulling you closer to his chest. "Good girl." He mumbled into your ear when you shook your head.

Bucky pulled away from you, still staying deep inside of your heat, letting you adjust to his size. He put one hand from your mouth on your back, which made you lean forward toward the lockers. The cold metal cooled your hot skin, but it still felt like you were burning inside.

Bucky finally started moving his hips, and the filling of his dick coming in and out of you made you almost faint. You two had sex a million times, but it still amazed you how full and satisfied he made you feel.

"That’s right, doll. You’re so greedy for my dick, huh?" He started to go faster, and you tried to move your body to his rhythm. "Was this your plan? Showing me that fucking jersey, so I could fuck you like a little slut you actually are?" His hand went over your back, tracing letters on your shirt with his fingers, and his motions became harder. In fact, it wasn’t your idea, but you should definitely thank Natasha because you really didn’t expect your boyfriend to become even more obsessed with you.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and you clenched around Bucky’s cock, making him moan. "I feel how you’re clenching ‘round me. I know that you like it when I call you my slut. Only mine." 

"Yes, Bucky– James, please." A sudden slap on your right cheek pulled another moan out of you, and Bucky just chuckled, knowing that you’re always loud with him.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum, please– James! I’m so close." You felt too overwhelmed with pleasure, not even realizing that you started crying when his fingers moved to your clit, drawing little circles there.

"Fuck, one day I’m gonna make you Mrs. Barnes, so you will have a well-damn reason to wear this shirt." He deeply chuckled, moving harder and harder into you. More nasty sounds of skin slapping into skin and your not-so-quiet moans filled the room. "Can you imagine that, baby? Being my cute little wife, who likes when I fuck the shit out of her? Poor doll, crying. Can’t even handle my cock deep inside your pussy, can’t you?" He moved even deeper into you, and that was it.

"God– James!" You slammed your hands on the metal near your face, trying to find something to hold onto, as the wave of heat and extreme pleasure covered your whole body and mind. Your legs trembled, and the only thing that kept you straight was Bucky’s strong hands. He felt that you were over the edge, that you couldn’t stand on your legs, and he definitely felt more juices coming out of you. He looked down and saw how his shiny cock was coming in and out of your pussy that was particularly choking him, and that sight threw him over the edge. With the last movement, he pulled your body into him, wrapping his hands around you and releasing his hot seed deep inside of you.

You both moaned at the feeling of you being so full of his cum that it had already started dripping down your thighs.

"That’s it, baby." Bucky whispered into your ear. "You did so well. Are you okay?" He left light kisses on your cheek.

It was too intense; not a single thought came to your head, and for a few seconds you tried to put yourself together.

"Mhm." It was the only thing that you were able to answer because your body was still trembling with the leftovers of your intense orgasm.

You two stayed in that position for a few minutes until Bucky realized that you had become too sleepy. He tried to pull out, but you grabbed his hand.

"‘m too sensitive." You almost cried.

"I know, sweetheart, but now I have to clean you and take you home." Bucky gently came out of you, and your body got goosebumps at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you. It took him all the strength not to shove it back into you with his fingers, but you were obviously too tired, and he couldn’t properly take care of you since you weren’t at his or your bedroom.

Bucky fell on his knees, quickly took a towel from his bag on the floor, and carefully cleaned the mess between your thighs. He reached for your panties, helped you put them back, leaving a soft kiss on your leg, and then helped you sit on the bench.

He looked at your sleepy and tired face while putting on his clothes.

"Hey, doll? You’re too quiet. Is everything okay? Was I too rough?"

"I’m ‘kay, it was just as intense as when you make me come many times in one night. Just help me with my jeans; I can’t feel my legs."

"Of course, sweetheart." He helped you with your pants and then fixed your messy hair. You couldn’t imagine how you must’ve looked right now. "I love you so much. Thank you for being here today. You’re truly the best thing that ever happened to me." Bucky kissed your forehead and wrapped his hands around your body, standing up with you.

"I love you too, Buck. So so much." You happily buried your face into his neck, knowing that your boyfriend was going to take care of everything.

He picked up his bag and keys for the locker room and came out of there. Bucky didn’t even close the door when he heard a familiar voice.

"Do not tell me that you two did what I think you did!" Sam was standing there a few steps away with disgust and shock on his face. "I didn’t expect that from you, Y/N/N." He joked.

"Sorry, Sam." You moved away from Bucky’s neck and tried to give Sam your best apologetic smile.

"Well, I’m not. Since you’re here, close the door, Birdbrain; we hurry."

Sam stood there for a few more moments after Bucky left with you in his arms.

He decided that the headphones that he left in the room could wait until another time.

[godsfavdarling]

How could you?

my masterlist, part 2

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (established relationship) words: 2,3k summary: You go to Spencer's apartment, only to witness a shocking betrayal that shatters your world. warnings: angst, hurt, spoilers for season 15! a/n: this was one of the ideas for the later chapters of my full story 'Keep Holding On' (completed and available here), but there wasn't really a place for it. so, I decided to just make it into a one-shot with a gender-neutral reader!

You and Spencer have been together for a few years now, your relationship a patchwork of late-night conversations, lazy weekends spent on a couch with books, and long nights in each other's arms.

Although his job isn't easy and you don't get him to yourself as much as you'd like to, you wouldn't change a thing. He and the love you share mean everything to you.

In the quiet moments when you're alone, you find yourself marveling at how unexpected and yet perfectly fitting your love story is. You never thought this could happen to you. 

You never let yourself believe that there would be a man like Spencer loving you and accepting every fiber of your being.

Spencer's presence in your life is like a gentle breeze on a hot summer's day, soothing and comforting. His unwavering support and understanding make even the toughest days bearable. And when he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, you feel a sense of belonging that you've never known before.

You cherish the simple moments shared over cups of coffee in the morning or stolen kisses in the middle of the day. In Spencer's eyes, you see a reflection of your own hopes and dreams, and in his laughter, you find the melody of your heart's desires.

As you drift off to sleep each night, nestled in Spencer's embrace, you offer a silent prayer of gratitude for the love that fills your days and the warmth that fills your heart. 

In him, you've found not just a partner, but a kindred spirit, a soulmate who completes you in ways you never knew were possible. And for that, you will always be thankful.

There's an unspoken language that exists only between you and Spencer. It's a language of love, trust, and understanding that transcends words.

You marvel at how effortlessly Spencer seems to know what you need, even before you do. His intuition is uncanny, his gestures of affection tender and sincere. 

Whether it's a simple touch on the small of your back as he passes by or a reassuring squeeze of your hand when you're feeling uncertain, Spencer has an innate ability to make everything feel right.

You trust him with your deepest fears, your wildest dreams, and every fragile piece of your heart.

In his arms, you find sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world, a safe harbor where you can be your truest self without fear of judgment or rejection.

And as you navigate the challenges of life together, you're constantly reminded of just how perfect Spencer is in your eyes. His kindness knows no bounds, his patience infinite. 

But it's not just his virtues that make him perfect; it's the way he loves you, wholly and unconditionally. In Spencer, you've found a partner who sees you for who you truly are, flaws and all, and loves you all the more fiercely because of them.

Now as you climb the stairs to Spencer's apartment, your heart flutters. Spencer has just started his 30 days of obligatory sabbatical, and you're looking forward to spending more time together now that his only obligation is his teaching job. You've picked up takeout on the way, eager to share a quiet evening together.

But as you open the door, your excitement turns to shock and disbelief.

There, before you, is Spencer, locked in a passionate embrace with JJ. Her hands are cupping his cheeks, their lips pressed together in a kiss that sends a jolt of pain through your chest.

Time seems to stand still as the bags of food slip from your fingers, crashing to the floor with a dull thud. You can't tear your eyes away from the scene before you, the weight of betrayal crushing down on you like a ton of bricks.

A thousand thoughts race through your mind, each one more painful than the last.

How could Spencer do this to you? How long has this been going on? And most importantly, how could you have been so blind to the truth?

Your heart feels like it's been ripped from your chest, shattered into a million pieces by the revelation before you. The love and trust you once shared with Spencer now lay in ruins at your feet, leaving you feeling empty and alone in a world that suddenly seems cold and indifferent.

As Spencer and JJ finally break apart, their eyes widening in shock at your sudden appearance, you feel a surge of anger rising within you. But beneath the anger lies a deep well of hurt and sadness, a pain that cuts to the very core of your being.

Without a word, you turn on your heel and flee from the apartment, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggle to make sense of the betrayal that has shattered your world.

Everything spins around you in a blur of tears and confusion, you turn and run down the stairs, desperate to escape the pain and betrayal that threaten to consume you.

Each step feels like a marathon, your legs heavy with the weight of sorrow and disbelief.

But just as you reach the bottom of the stairs, your vision swimming with tears, you stumble, your foot catching on the edge of a step. You plummet forward, the ground rushing up to meet you with terrifying speed.

In that split second before impact, a pair of strong arms wraps around you, pulling you back from the brink of disaster. You gasp in shock and relief as Spencer catches you, his grip firm and steady.

For a moment, you cling to him like a lifeline, your body trembling with the force of your emotions.

You can't breathe, can't think, can't comprehend the enormity of what has just happened.

As you collapse onto the stairs, your sobs echoing in the empty stairwell, Spencer kneels beside you, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration.

He reaches out to touch you, but you flinch away, unable to bear the thought of his hands on your skin.

"Please," he pleads, his voice cracking with emotion. "Let me explain. It wasn't what you think. I didn't...I didn't do anything."

But his words fall on deaf ears as you struggle to make sense of the chaos swirling inside your head.

How could Spencer betray you like this? How could he let someone else touch him in that way?

As the truth begins to dawn on you, a wave of anger washes over you, hot and relentless. You push yourself away from Spencer, your chest heaving with the effort to draw breath.

"Don't," you choke out, your voice barely a whisper. "Don't touch me."

But Spencer refuses to give up, his eyes burning with determination as he reaches for you once more. "Please," he begs, his voice raw with emotion. "Let me explain. It wasn't me. It was her."

You place a trembling hand on your chest, trying to steady your racing heart as you struggle to catch your breath.

"How could you?" you utter, your voice barely above a whisper, the words heavy with accusation and pain.

Spencer's eyes are full of anguish as tears well up in his eyes. He reaches out to you, his hand hovering in the air between you, a silent plea for forgiveness that you're not sure you're ready to grant.

But before you can respond, JJ appears at the top of the stairs, her mouth open as if she's about to say something. But then, with a quick shake of her head, she closes her mouth and walks past the two of you without a word.

You stare after her in disbelief, your mind reeling with confusion and hurt.

You struggle to make sense of the situation. You knew of the hostage situation with JJ and how she had professed her love for Spencer. But you also remember how Spencer immediately came to you, confessing everything and reassuring you of his love for you.

He spent the whole night telling you every detail of what happened, assuring you that his heart belonged to you and you alone. He made it clear that you were the one he loved, not JJ.

So what happened? How could he be kissing her now, after everything he said and everything you've been through together?

With a shaky breath, you push yourself up from the stairs, your muscles tense with the effort to contain the storm raging within you. You want to flee, to distance yourself from him and the shattered remnants of your trust.

But before you can take a single step, Spencer's voice cuts through the tumultuous haze of your thoughts, pleading with you to stay. His words are a desperate plea for understanding, for a chance to explain the inexplicable.

"Please," he implores, his voice cracking with emotion. "Don't leave. I need to explain. I swear, it wasn't what it looked like. You have to believe me."

You hesitate, torn between the desire to escape and the need for answers. Despite the overwhelming pain coursing through your veins, there's a part of you that still craves the truth, no matter how agonizing it may be.

You groan loudly, the weight of the situation bearing down on you like a leaden blanket. Your mind races with a million questions, each one more painful than the last.

But for now, you're too overwhelmed to process anything.

With another loud groan, you turn and begin to make your way back upstairs, your steps heavy with exhaustion and despair.

You can feel Spencer's eyes boring into your back, his silent plea for you to stay echoing in the empty stairwell.

As you reach the top of the stairs, you don't look back, you enter the apartment and your only thought is to find a moment of solace in the solitude of the bathroom.

With trembling hands, you shut the door behind you, the click of the lock a final barrier between you and the chaos that threatens to consume you.

And as you sit there, trembling and broken, you realize that there's something about Spencer, something in the depths of his eyes that compelled you to stay, to hear him out.

It's a trust that runs deeper than words.

As you emerge from the bathroom after a few minutes, the weight of the silence between you and Spencer hangs heavy in the air.

You find him on the couch, his leg shaking uncontrollably, his fingers fidgeting nervously. His face is etched with worry and pain, mirroring the tumult of emotions raging inside you both.

He gave you space, just as he always did. It's one of the things you've always admired about him, his ability to recognize when you needed time to process and heal.

But now, as you sit in the armchair nearby, staring at him with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, you can't help but feel the need for answers, for some semblance of understanding in the chaos that surrounds you.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Spencer speaks. His voice is hoarse with emotion, the words tumbling out in a rush as if he's been holding them back for far too long.

"She just showed up," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. "Out of nowhere, she started talking about how she loves me and how she was stupid for ignoring it for so long. She said she couldn't pretend anymore..."

You listen in stunned silence, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. So it wasn't Spencer who initiated the kiss, it was JJ.

But why?

As Spencer continues to speak, his words are a desperate attempt to make sense of the madness that has engulfed your lives, you find yourself drawn to him, to the vulnerability etched into every line of his face.

Despite the pain and betrayal that still lingers between you, there's a part of you that can't help but empathize with his plight.

As Spencer falls silent, his eyes searching yours for some sign of forgiveness or understanding, you find yourself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

Hurt, betrayal, and confusion war with a lingering sense of empathy and love for the man sitting before you.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and collect your thoughts. "Spencer," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "I... I don't know what to say."

His eyes widen in anticipation, his expression a mixture of hope and fear. "I understand," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "I know I've hurt you, and I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen."

"I need time," you finally say, your voice trembling with emotion. "I need time to process everything, to figure out where we go from here."

Spencer nods solemnly, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I understand," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "Take all the time you need. I'll be here, waiting for you."

With a heavy sigh, you push yourself up from the armchair, your limbs feeling like lead. "I'm going to go," you say, your voice barely a whisper. "I just... I need some space."

Spencer nods, his gaze following you as you make your way to the door. "I'll be here," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "I love you."

You pause in the doorway, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. "I love you too," you murmur, your voice choked with emotion.

And with that, you step out into the cool night air, the weight of the world heavy on your shoulders.

As you make your way home, you can't help but wonder will it ever be the same between the two of you?

[sinofwriting]

PDA - Logan Sargeant

Words: 1,127 Summary: Logan and his girlfriend like PDA.

Masterlist | Support Me!

Alex watches as Logan, his new teammate, kisses his girlfriend, one of his hands that had been resting on her waist drifting down to her ass, before sliding into the pocket there and giving a squeeze and he can feel himself nearly choke on his drink. “Fuck,” he coughs and he can feel George slam his hand on his back once then twice.

“Alright, mate?” He nods, giving another cough before clearing his throat. “Yeah, just watching the rookie feel up his girlfriend.” He watches as George’s eyebrows furrow as he looks over at Oscar who’s sitting at the next table. “Other rookie.” George looks over at where he had and his eyes widen. “Jesus. They do know that they’re in public and we’re all here right?” He looks back over and face twists. They weren’t kissing anymore, but Logan’s hand was still in her one back pocket and his mouth is practically glued to her ear as he whispers something with a smile that Alex doesn’t think he likes one bit and dread for the rest of the season starts to fill him.

They both look away at the sound of Oscar’s voice. “They know.” “What?” Oscar tilts his head over to where Logan is and now the rest of the drivers that had decided to all go out together are looking at the couple. “They know they’re in public. I’ve known Logan for a couple years now. They’re always like this.” “Always?” Alex is hoping that Oscar is fucking with him, joking with him. “Always. They’ve been together like two years now?” He shrugs, “We all thought at Prema it was just the honeymoon stage.” Alex turns to look at George, horror in his eyes. “I don’t think I can do this.” “It’s just a bit of kissing, mate. You’ll be fine.” George pats him on the shoulder and he can see from the corner of his eye Max silently laughing. “She’s going to be traveling with us. Coming to all the races.” George’s hand drops. “Well, your fucked then.” Alex groans, dropping his head on the table with a loud thunk.

“You know, I think I like the american. He broke Alex.” Max says, chuckling and Alex is grateful when he hears the dutch driver let out an oomf. “Thank you, Charles.” “No problem. Though I do think it’s a bit funny.” Alex groans, letting his head drop back down when he had just started to lift it up.

“Seriously?” Charles shrugs, “I don’t understand why there is a problem. So they don’t uh, hold back in public. It is not like they are fucking. It is just a bit of kissing.” He then looks back at the couple and shrugs again. “And ass grabbing. Could be much worse.” Alex lets out a groan when the rest of the drivers make agreeing sounds.

“What’s wrong with Alex?” Is the next thing that he hears and immediately groans again at the American accent.

—

Logan was aware that most people didn’t like seeing him and his girlfriend together. Not because they didn’t like her or him or them together, it was more how they acted. Which Logan was absolutely unashamed about. If he wanted to kiss his girlfriend he was going to. If he wanted her in his lap, she’d be there. It didn’t matter how many fake gags his or her friends made or that time he got told off by Prema’s PR team to lay off because what if the press picked up on it?

The memory nearly made him scoff. Drivers got a bad reputation. If they weren’t knowing for fucking anything that walked, one night stands only, they seemed to be know for cheating on their partners. If not by press and fans than at least by other drivers and the like. Logan still struggled a bit with that part of being a driver. The way you’d see a fellow driver fuck someone and then a day later be bringing their partner around the paddock.

He would’ve figured that they’d be thrilled with a driver so into his girlfriend that he literally couldn’t keep his hands off her. Meant they had one less driver to worry about with a cheating scandal.

“It’s the european.” His girlfriend had said when he told her about it and the response had made him laugh in the moment, but he did wonder if there was some truth to it.

“You alright?” Her breath ghosts over the shell of his ear and he squeezes her hip. “I’m all good, baby.” He grins at her. “Just wondering when Williams is going to give me the talk.” She laughs and he can see Lando look over at them. “Any day probably.” “Probably.” He chuckles. He was surprised that after the first race he hadn’t gotten it. Didn’t mean he didn’t think it was going to happen.

Tilting his head up, he puckers his lips a bit and she immediately kisses him. His grip on her hip tightens when she pokes her tongue out teasingly, wishing that she wasn’t sitting on his lap sideways, but straddling him.

He’s about to move her into straddling him when Lando drops into the seat next to them. So he settles for pressing another kiss to her lips before turning his attention to the slightly older driver.

“You all good, man?” Logan’s grin widens at the way Lando’s nose wrinkles at the word man. Him and the other brits all acted the same way when he said it instead of mate. “Yeah, just thought I’d come over, get to know your girlfriend a bit since apparently she’ll be traveling with us.” His voice goes slightly at the end, clearly wondering if it was true. He nods, “yeah. Finally got her to quit that job of hers,” he starts to tease, laughing when she hits him gently on the chest. Lando looked at the two with wide eyes. “I did not quit my job for you.” She says to him before looking at Lando with a sorry expression. “Ignore, Logan.” He pouts a little at that, but keeps quiet. Not minding her taking over the conversation. He traces her name on her hip as she says it to Lando, before repeating her statement.

“I didn’t quit my job for Logan.” He snorts, but other than that, keeps quiet. “I quit my job so I could go full time with graphic design.” The other driver perks up a bit. “Graphic design, really?” “Yeah, I’ve been doing it for the past like five years.”

He somewhat tunes the two out as they start talking more about graphic design. Only really paying attention to her voice and the cadence of it, as he closes his eyes and relaxes.

---

Tagging: @gemofthenight @peachiicherries and also @yellowyoonglescibe & @heesvers who commented on my post when I mentioned wanting to write this.

[boredmadamoiselle]

You're losing me

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Synopsis: When the 2023 season comes to an end, everything falls down. Including your relationship with Charles.

Warnings: Angst. Charles is a little toxic maybe and an asshole. English isn't my first language, so it probably contains some mistakes. Sorry in advance!

Author's note: Let me know what you think. Your feedback is always appreciated and it is really important for me. If you have any ideas or concepts you want to share and that you want me to write, feel free to send them and I will take into consideration.

How long could we be a sad song 'Til we were too far gone to bring back to life? I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier Fighting in only your army Frontlines, don't you ignore me I'm the best thing at this party

“And Max Verstappen is a F1 world champion for the third time in a row!”, you heard the speakers saying even if everyone already knew that. 

All attention was on Max and Red Bull but your thoughts were on someone else. Charles.

While Max was celebrating his victory, Charles had lost not only against Red Bull but also against his own teammate. In the end, Carlos had managed to overtake him in the drivers' standings. The same Carlos who had always been one step in front of him for the entire year, who had broken, albeit for just one race, Red Bull's dominance and had dominated during the weekend at Monza, Ferrari’s home race. It was frustrating because he was Il Predestinato, the one who was destined to win and bring Ferrari to success after all those years. But race after race and despite the support of his fans, it seemed to him that it was no longer the case. He didn't even feel the same anymore. He was losing his confidence and was tired to fight when everything and everyone seemed to be against him: his own team, the strategies, the car, his teammate… 

But most of all, Charles was angry. You could barely keep up with him from how fast he was walking. With the helmet still on, he was ignoring everyone, including you and his fans. Something he had never done before. 

Despite his nervousness, he waited for you entering inside his driving room before slamming the door violently. You gasped at it.

You remained silent as you watched him change clothes and you thought about what you could tell him to console him. You didn’t even know if it was a good idea talking to him. What could you tell him in a moment like that to make things better? You knew that whatever you would have said wouldn't have been enough. What could you tell him that you haven’t told him yet? Because it wasn't the first time you found yourself in that situation, that things weren't going well...

You thought back over the past few months. It hadn’t been a good year for him and as a result, your relationship had suffered too. The worse the races went, the more, in fact, he was disappointed and threw himself more into work. When he didn't have to race, he was in Maranello at the factory working on the car and getting ready for the next race. Although you had tried to accompany him whenever you could, you had seen him less and less often. You also didn't feel welcome at the factory as you felt like your presence was bothering him. Scared by that, you had stopped going with him. You know it wasn’t true, that it was only your mind playing tricks on you. Was it?He loved you... you weren’t a burden or a distraction to him – you had repeated to yourself for months. He just needed to focus on his job if he wanted to win. Knowing how much it was important to him, you had put yourself aside and never said anything about it or how you felt. Not even when he didn’t come home for your anniversary because he had to work or when he forgot your birthday. You had remained silent even then, forgiving and justifying him, even though every disappointment and forgetfulness were like a stab in your heart, making you feel less and less important. In the end, it wasn't even worth it.

Although you were sad for Charles, a part of you was happy that the season had finally come to an end and that the winter break was about to start. It was your chance to spend some time together away from everything and everyone. Everything would have gone back to normal, to how it was before. You and Charles would have been fine again. At least it was what you thought… How wrong you were.

As Charles was putting his t-shirt on, you hugged him from behind and rested your chin on his shoulder. Or at least, you tried. He moved your arms off of you and walked away leaving you paralyzed in the middle of the room. You heard him grumble. 

You felt rejected by the man you loved and who told you he loved you. Because in that moment it didn’t seem like that. 

It wasn’t the first time that you felt rejected. The truth was that you hadn’t felt loved by him for months. 

You wanted to cry but you couldn’t. You had cried enough for him. You had lost count of the nights you spent crying before falling asleep. 

“Charles…”, you managed to whisper than to say. 

He turned to look at you. 

“What… what happens?”

He looked at you in disbelief. “What happens? Weren't you out there? Didn't you see what happened? I lost everything! Here what happened!”, he screamed. “I lost the championship, again! I’m not even vice-champion this time and my own teammate beat me. I’ve been driving a tract for the entire year. Isn’t all this enough for you?” 

As you listened to him, you realized how everything was always about him. He was still talking about the damn season he had, the championship, the car, his teammate… when you didn’t give a fuck about them, not anymore. You cared about you. You and Charles. But it didn't seem to be the same for your boyfriend.

He was still complaining about the season when you stopped him. You had enough. “No, I meant why you moved earlier.”

He turned around looking at you in confusion as if he didn’t understand what you were saying. 

“What… what are you talking about? When?” 

You couldn’t believe it. Was he making fun of you? How could he be so oblivious about everything, about you? Weren't you the woman he said he loved?

“Now when I hugged you and you immediately moved away from me as if you couldn’t stand my touch. Why that?”

Charles sighed and you could see how annoyed he was from your affirmation. Too bad for him that you were tired too and you couldn’t stand that situation anymore. It was time for both of you to clarify it. 

“It was nothing. I didn’t even realize it”, he said turning and giving you his back. 

“You see, Charles, this is the problem. You wouldn’t have realized it if I hadn't pointed it out for you. You never realize anything”, you said. 

“What would that mean? I already said that it was nothing. You're overreacting, Y/N!”

As your patience had reached its limit, you ended bursting out. 

“It was something, Charles! It meant for me. But apparently you simply don’t care enough about me and also about us if you don’t realize how much you’re hurting me, or I should say how I much you had hurt me in the last months”, you yelled at him while your eyes started filling with tears. 

Your words caught him off guard and put him in difficulty. He turned around to face you. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn't do it on purpose. I just have a lot of things on my mind right now. This year sucked…” 

You didn’t give him the time to finish. 

“Stop, Charles! I’ve had enough. Yeah, this season, the car, the team, everything sucked. I know that very well and do you know why? Because I’ve been by your side the whole time supporting and consoling you when everyone and everything seemed to be against you. And despite all this, you managed to make me feel like I wasn’t welcome. The least you could do is not push me away.” With every word you raised your voice more and more, not caring who could hear you from outside. 

“I never asked you to do all those things.”

You looked at him in disbelief. You quickly wiped away a tear that was falling down your cheek. He didn't deserve to see you crying. He didn't deserve you tears anymore.

You wondered yourself who was the person in front of you because that wasn’t the same Charles you knew and loved. There was a completely stranger in front of you as you didn't recognize him anymore.

“Yes, you didn’t but I did it anyway and I don’t regret it, Charles. I'd do it all again because I love you. But…” 

The thought had been tormenting you for months. You had kept pushing it away, trying not to listen to it but it came back stronger every time. You didn't want to believe it was true because it would mean the end of you and Charles. But maybe your relationship had been over a long time ago and you were just postponing the inevitable. 

“But it looks like my love isn’t enough anymore or maybe… maybe you don’t love me anymore, I don’t know. But I know for sure that in the last year you’ve loved your job, the championship and everything else more than me and don't try to deny it because you proved it several times, Charles. And I’m sorry but I'm tired of trying to make this relationship work when it seems I’m the only one who cares about it. I can’t keep fighting for both of us”, you said as you started collecting your things around the room, even the pieces of your broken heart. You wanted to leave that place and everything behind you as soon as possible. You were about to burst into tears. 

“Wait. What are you doing?”, he asked as he realized what you were about to do. 

“Leaving”, you simply said avoiding looking him in the face. You were afraid of the effect it might have on you. 

“What do you mean? The room or… me?” 

Good question. You didn't know it either. 

“I… don’t know. Maybe both, but for now the room for sure. I need some fresh air and... some time.” 

You collected your last things.

You had reached the door when his words stopped you. 

“So is it like this? Just because I've been absent recently or because I didn't win, you break up with me? You know I was working all the time, right?” 

You turned around to face him. All the sadness from earlier had been replaced by anger. You approached him reducing the distance between you. How could he think so low of you?

“Don’t you dare, Charles! I don't care if you're the champion of the world or not. I've always loved and wanted you despite that. And yes, I know you have been working all this time. You know why? Because that's all you've done this year: work, work and again work. If we've reached this point, it's… Do you know what? Nevermind. It’s just a waste of time and I've already wasted it enough. And so did you. I assume you have some work to do or am I wrong?” 

Maybe you had exaggerated with your words but you didn't care at all. You were hurt and angry.

Charles said nothing as you stood looking at each other. 

You weren't sure what you were hoping for. But anything would have been better than that deafening silence that was slowly killing you inside. It felt like the world was ending. For sure something was certainly over between you and Charles. But was it the end for you and him? Or there was still hope?

Your hand was on the doorknob, ready to leave when you turned to Charles. You wanted to see him one last time, to remember the Charles you loved but all you saw was a stranger. 

“You know what, Charles? You were right in the end. You’ve lost everything, including me, us. Good work, Charles.”

And with those last words you left the room and Charles. 

You exited the garage and walked quickly across the paddock hoping no one would have stopped or seen you. 

As you were keeping your head down, you didn't see that Joris was coming in the opposite direction and you collided with him.

"Oh, Joris... I'm sorry, I didn't see you...", you told him.

"Hey, Y/n. Is it everything ok? Where are you going?"

You were avoiding his gaze. If you would have looked at him in the eyes, you wouldn't have been able to hold back the tears anymore. "Away, Joris. I need to go", you whispered as your eyes started to fill with tears again.

"Wait, where? What happened?"

You quickly looked at him before hugging him.

"Nothing, don't worry. Take care of him for me, Joris."

You quickly kissed his cheek and left him there confused as he watched you walking away.

Stop, you're losin' me Stop, you're losin' me Stop, you're losin' me I can't find a pulse My heart won't start anymore For you 'Cause you're losin' me

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

[generalllimaginesss]

author’s note: I blacked out while writing this, so it will be as much of a surprise to me when I wake up and reread it as it will to you when you read it for the first time. It wasn’t requested, just something that my brain came up with and wouldn’t let me sleep until I finished it. It’s loosely based off of Olivia Rodrigo’s The Grudge and the movie Sweet Home Alabama (my favorite movie). Also, this is completely made up in my head and in no way reflects something that Luke Hughes has done, or will do. It’s also 2:06 AM and I can’t promise that it’s proofread very well because I can barely keep my eyes open (I worked a double today).

Warnings: cursing, ANGST, cheating, kinda sad but has a good ending. Slow beginning, but I promise it gets better!

Without further ado….

The Grudge

“Hello?”

The single word that was the catapult for the demise of your relationship. The single word that changed the course of what you pictured your future as.

Luke’s side of the call was silent, the only noise able to be heard was his breathing, heavy as if the weight of the world was crushing his lungs, deflating him of life.

He wasn’t supposed to be calling. He had told you he was having a guys week, a time for him to regroup with his brothers and friends at the lake house. It was his own little sanctuary away from the life that he had worked so hard for. A quiet place. He had asked for that time, to which you agreed, he needed a break.

“Luke? Everything ok?”

He wanted nothing more than to hang up the phone in that instance. The reality that he was about to destroy the last bit of trust that you held for him constricting him as he fought with his vocal cords, trying like hell to form some form of vocalization.

“I need to tell you something,” He managed to squeeze the words out, every bit of courage mustered into it. The feeling of facing the mistake that he had made seemed impossible compared to simply just refusing to acknowledge it. He could ignore it all, ghost you, and pretend like he had never ruined everything. He had ruined your relationship, your love. You. He had ruined you, including everything that came from the relationship the two of you developed a couple of summers before he had left to play for Michigan.

Ironic that it would begin and end during the summer.

“Ok. Are you-”

“Are you alone?”

His brothers will kill him when they find out, but your family? The thought of them being there to wipe your tears and listen to your rants that have to do with him break his heart. He had developed a special relationship with your dad, your mom always put a stocking out for him during the holiday season, your brother? He had taught your little brother how to skate, how to play hockey. Even though he couldn’t coach your little brother’s team, he had supported him since the beginning. He had bought him his first jersey. 43.

“Yeah, Luke. You’re scaring me.”

“God, I fucking hate myself. I’m so sorry,” Sobbing, the sound of his arm wiping his nose could be heard. He knew he shouldn’t cry. He chose this.

He knew he didn’t always treat you like you should have, no deserved, to be treated. He didn’t spend time with you like he should have, he didn’t tell you he loved you enough. When you yelled at him about things, he would scream back. He would never hit you, but his words cut through your core, sometimes feeling worse than what you imagined the sting of one of his slaps might feel like.

The anxiety that stemmed from Luke’s call gripped your lungs, confusion coursing through your body outweighing the blood that sucked at carrying the oxygen at the moment. There was nothing random about your relationship, he didn’t surprise you with anything, much less a phone call.

Something is wrong.

The silence was deafening, overwhelmingly so.

“I tried to tell myself that you would never find this out, but there was somebody taking pictures and I need you to hear it from me first, ok?” He closed his eyes forcing himself to find some shred of courage left inside of him.

“Ok,” The word was breathy as it left your lips, a courtesy to encourage him to continue.

“I cheated,” It flowed out of his mouth in such a casual way that it felt like somebody had stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife and watching as you writhed in pain. The taste of iron flooded your senses as you bit your cheek to hold yourself together.

“We went to one of the local bars. She was the bartender, she knew us. Trevor invited her to the house after her shift and me and her ended up alone together while the others were out back and one thing led to another…one of the guys took a picture and posted it on their story. They forgot about you.” He tried to explain it in a way that redeemed himself. He was only 20 years old…this bartender could’ve taken advantage of him, but you knew him.

He didn’t get close to just anybody, he was the gate to his space. Nobody would get through the gate if he didn’t want them to, including this girl. Which made the bile that was building in your throat much more bitter. The fact that he not only cheated, but is trying to play victim makes you bubble with rage. Luke Hughes was very good at many things, but the one thing he had never quite mastered the role of was “victim.”

The shock coursed through your body like metal to a magnet, searching endlessly for something to smash into and deciding your heart was the place to do that. It felt like you forgot to breathe, your lungs aching for a breath.

“Y/N?” He willed you to talk, silence causing more anxiety than your anger ever would have.

“I never would have done this to you,” Your whisper spoke more volumes than a scream would have, cutting through the phone and going straight through Luke’s body. He wished you would scream at him, tell him he fucked up, but the way you said those words made him feel like this was it. He couldn’t come back from this one.

“I’m sorry,” His words were meaningless, but he spoke them nonetheless.

Those two words sent you into a silent rage, one that wrecked the inside of your mind but couldn’t be seen by anyone else. You hung up the phone, throwing it across your room and immediately packing everything that had to do with Luke into a box that you found.

Packing 4 years worth of things that you acquired from him was emotionally draining, each article triggering memories through the years.

His first Michigan Hockey sweatshirt that he had bought himself packed into the bottom of the box reminded you of the date he had planned. He had snuck the two of you into the arena when no one was there and taught you to skate, skills that still stick with you to this day. His first hoodie became yours that night, the smell of his cologne long gone from the comfort it brought you many nights when you felt lonely.

A Devils snow globe and jersey that was decorated with the number 43, his number, packed next. He had bought it for you the day he was drafted, convinced that it would be worth something one day. And it was. Just not to you anymore. The snow globe was attached to a memory that was better left forgotten. It was for your birthday, which happened to be the day after his. When you had gone all out for his 20th birthday, buying him a new custom suit and designer shoes that required months of savings, he gave you a snow globe that “you could add to your collection.” You had said some backhanded things to him, a huge fight came from that. A fight on your birthday, something else that you would’ve never done to him.

The last items consisted of hoodies, a few pairs of sweatpants and boxers, and a couple of jackets. The last thing, however, was something that you didn’t know if you could part with.

It was a letter that Luke had wrote you for Valentine’s Day the second year of your relationship, a sweet surprise that you weren’t expecting with your usual bouquet of daisies and roses, your two favorite flowers.

When you doubted your relationship with Luke in the past, when arguments and fights felt like it was all it consisted of, you always found your way back to his letter. He had told you that you were his end game, that there would never be somebody else that was better suited for him. He poured his heart out in that letter, telling you that he was going to marry you one day. One day when he had made it to the NHL and could roll in money, he was going to buy a rock for your finger and a huge house for all of the babies that you talked about.

Rereading the letter normally made you remember the good times, when things were good, but under the circumstances now it made you want to burn it, to watch his words turn to ash, just like the promises he had made to you.

Meaningless. His words were meaningless now.

It wasn’t always his fault, no. There were instances where you said things that you knew hurt him, things that echoed in the back of his head every now and then. Something along the lines of him never being as good as his brothers, that he would always be in their shadow. That Luke Hughes would be known as “just another Hughes brother.”

Some days he felt like that statement couldn’t be more true, that he would never live up to the records that Quinn and Jack seemed to break every time they stepped on the ice. Some days he just couldn’t see it coming together for him.

But other days he knew he was determined to make a name for himself, for Luke. The Hughes name was a force to be reckoned with. Luke wanted to be even better than his last name. Whatever it took, sometimes at the expense of those around him.

You snatched the letter that was stuck in the corner of the mirror that perched on top of your dresser, the sound of the paper crisp beneath your fingertips. As much as you wanted to destroy the letter, you figured it would be better to send it back to Luke. He needed to see all of the promises he broke and hurt he’s caused.

The paper was the last thing in the box, folded neatly on top of everything else.

Closing the box, you carried it to your car, placing it in the backseat behind the driver’s side. If there’s one thing that could be payback to Luke, it was telling his parents. He thrived on his parent’s approval, likely a symptom of being the youngest brother of an extremely successful family.

Ellen and Jim’s faces burned the back of your mind, so many memories that consisted of the two of them. Countless games at Michigan were spent with the two of them, as well as a couple of trips to New Jersey. You had helped Ellen cook supper many times, and watched as Jim coached his sons. Ellen’s pep talks were rarely intended for you, but you always felt like something could be learned from her wisdom.

The drive was silent, muscle memory the only way you could manage to get there in the state you were in. You didn’t know if the lights were green or if you used your blinker, all you could think about was Luke admitting to cheating. All of the shit you had been through with each other, all of the petty fights, had finally come to a head. You may have gone low, below the belt at some point in time, but this? You never could have ruined him like this, no matter how bad you wanted to.

As hurt as you were, you were numb. Tears wouldn’t fall, your body still in shock over the news.

As you drove up the paved driveway to the house that had become your second home, the emotions hit you when you saw Ellen in the flower beds, digging up weeds and planting new flowers.

She had heard a car approaching, causing her to look up and recognize you. Although she loved for you to visit, you normally didn’t come over unless Luke was with you, especially now that him and Jack owned the lake house.

She wiped at the sweat that was beading her forehead, dirt from her work gloves sticking in some of her blonde locks that were glued to her face. She smiled at you, before confusion flashed and she saw that you were carrying a box.

“Hi, Doll! Luke’s not here, but I’m glad you stopped by!” Her warm tone and kind smile didn’t fade, even if she did notice something off about your demeanor.

Her voice broke you. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring her and Jim into this. Maybe you should have just threw everything that connected you to Luke in a garbage can and called it a day.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She walked towards you with her arms open, noticing your quivering lips and teary eyes.

She was drenched in sweat from the summer sun, but you didn’t mind it. Dropping the box on the driveway, you allowed her to wrap her arms around you tightly. Her embrace gave you comfort as sobs racked through your body. How could such a loving mom and dad create such a jack ass? They had done perfect with 2/3 of their sons…what happened with Luke?

“Do you want to go inside? Jim’s working on a sink faucet, but he won’t mind,” She ushered you inside, her hand gently pushing your back.

Nodding, you wiped your nose on your sleeve and allowed her to walk you inside. She quickly washed her hands at the sink Jim was working at, earning a few objections from him, but she hushed him and motioned to you.

His face filled with concern as he noticed something wrong with you. He could fix a lot of things, but girls was something he would leave to his wife.

The leather of the couch soothed the heat that the summer sun had left on your skin. Ellen joined, sitting next to you as she rubbed your back, calming you. She truly was like a second mom.

“Is everything ok?” She held onto your arm, the pressure from her fingers sending tingles to your brain.

“No,” You croaked, the single word rattling your throat as it struggled to exit.

“What happened?” Her voice had dropped below her regular volume, but above a whisper. She cut her eyes at Jim who was attempting to listen from the kitchen.

“He cheated…”

The shock hit his parents as hard as it did you. Quinn would never cheat, Jack? It was questionable sometimes. But they’re baby? The one that had endured the lectures from his parents the longest, the one that had seen his brother’s mistakes and learned from them, the one that seemed so in love with you that nothing could ever separate you both? It seemed nearly impossible. Surely it was a mistake.

“How do you know? The press always lies…” She trailed off, your eyes connecting to hers.

“He told me,” The strength you tried to regain from your prior meltdown was useless as your voice trembled, “…said that he wanted to tell me before somebody else did.”

“Oh, Honey. I’m so sorry,” She pulled you into her arms, watching as Jim rounded the corner to join. You were like the daughter the two of them had always wanted, so seeing you hurt killed them in return. And at the hands of their son? They were immensely disappointed. They didn’t raise him like this.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do, and I probably should have left you both out of it,” Your attempts at stopping the free-flowing tears were useless, so you embraced each one as it fell, “…um, I brought his stuff back. I know he’s at the lake house, but I don’t think I can see him right now. I really wish we could have worked. You two will never know how much you and your boys mean to me.”

“Likewise, sweet girl. I wish I could make this all better. You may not feel like it right now, but our family will always hold a spot for you,” Ellen reassured, a hum of agreement resonating within Jim.

“Anytime you want, and I’m serious, our door will always be open for you. No matter the time or circumstance, do you understand?” Jim waited for you to respond, a nod of your head, before embracing you again.

Their words meant so much, but the hurt still ached, seemingly never ending.

You said your goodbyes, taking in the house that you would probably never see again. The walls holding memories that only those in the house would ever understand or appreciate.

Closing the front door felt like closing a chapter on your life. A chapter that felt like it was ending in the middle with no resolve, but it closed.

It needed to.

———

As the New Year approached, your parents reminded you of the plans they had that would draw them away from home. They claimed that they celebrated Christmas with you, but the New Year meant that you were alone in a house that felt big and lonely while they celebrated with their fellow group of middle aged parents.

The months had passed, agonizingly, since Luke’s cheating admittance. The summer turned to fall and fall into winter, getting colder like you were allowing your heart to do.

A few dates here and there did nothing but remind you that the guy wasn’t Luke. They should’ve been better than Luke since they actually treated you with respect and checked every box that a girl had.

But the lack of teasing, of being the biggest pain in your ass and best friend, made the hole in your life bigger. You were sure nothing would help, not even the texts from Ellen and Jim, periodically, made it better.

They all consisted of the same topic: “How are you doing?”

It was the same old same old, until it wasn’t. Until Ellen texted you after Christmas asking you about your plans for New Year’s Eve. The Hughes had always thrown a party for the New Year, packed to the brim with people.

When Ellen asked if you had plans, you had every intention on lying and saying yes. Saying that you had a date and that he was taking you to see the countdown and fireworks that followed, but something told you to tell the truth. So you did.

After you had admitted to her that you, in fact, would be all alone, she reached out and invitation to join them.

The invitation had toggled in your mind for a few days now. On one hand, you wanted to go see how everybody was, talk to his brothers, catch up with his friends. On the other, you wanted to stay home in your pajamas and watch Andy Cohen get shitfaced with Anderson Cooper while wondering if Luke would kiss somebody for the occasion.

The saying “curiosity killed the cat” proved to be true as you had finally decided to go, a sparkly gold dress accentuated your curves, hugging you in all of the right places, the places that Luke had once yearned for. You don’t know how, but your makeup was flawless, your eyeshadow bringing out your eyes in a way that you had never seen, but you loved it. Maybe this was revenge?

Even though you hadn’t made the drive in over 6 months, you still knew it like the back of your hand. Your nerves were working overtime, anxiety squeezing your thoughts the closer you got to the Hughes’ residence.

What if Luke had a new girlfriend? What if his parents were the only ones that wanted you there? Was this actually a good idea?

Too late now.

There was probably 25 or more cars that littered the driveway, most carrying a minimum of 2 people. It was a relief, maybe you could just blend in with the rest of them. A chameleon in the house of your ex lover.

Music blared, drifting from the backyard into the front, making the walk to the door less daunting of a task. There was no use in knocking, the sound of talking and music would most likely just drown it out, so you took a breath as you pushed the door open. It appeared to be the spot for the more mature crowd, Jim spotting you as soon as you walked in.

He was confused as to who you were at first, but as soon as you gave him a shy smile his face lit up with excitement. He had missed you more than he realized.

“Y/N! What a nice surprise! Come in, make yourself at home,” He squeezed you in a tight hug before relinquishing you.

“Y/N! Oh my, I wasn’t expecting you to come, but I’m so glad you did!” Ellen squealed, the clinking of her heels against the hardwood floors becoming faster as she did her best to jog to you, embracing you like her life depended on it. It lasted a few seconds before she held you out at arms length, examining you.

“Gosh, you look absolutely stunning! That dress was made for you!” She gushed.

“Thank you! I just decided to throw something together last minute. I should have let you know I was coming, but I honestly didn’t decide until right before I got dressed,” you chuckled, explaining the lack of communication on your part.

“Honey, you do not have to explain a single thing to me! I’m just so happy you’re here!” She hugged you again, rocking you side to side.

“The kids, sorry, young adults are out back. I do have to warn you…Luke did bring a date,” As she explained the dilemma, you expected yourself to break down. When it didn’t, relief washed over you. It had been almost 7 months, why wouldn’t Luke have moved on? You couldn’t be mad at him for that part, but you still held a grudge against him for allowing you to love him as much as you did and shattering your heart in the end.

There was never another conversation between the two of you. His parents never brought him up, he had never attempted to contact you, so the resolve was the fact that you returned everything. He had nothing left connecting him to you. That was how it was supposed to be, so there was no need to communicate with you. He had gotten the message loud and clear when he had returned home to a box of his things in his old bedroom and an ass-chewing from his parents and brothers. One that he would never wish on his worst enemy.

He learned from his mistake, but felt like the very toxic situation between the two of you was better left where it was: untouched.

He had been trying to move on ever since, sleeping with any girl that reminded him of you, sneaking them out before Jack had noticed, or simply just embracing the newness of being alone. It sucked at first, but he got used to it.

Ellen’s face flushed with concern at the momentary silence that followed her statement, scared that she would scare you off with the news of her son, your ex, having a date that wasn’t you.

“Ellen, it’s ok! I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” Making light of the situation was easier to fake on the outside, but trying to convince yourself was a bit harder.

You talked to Ellen and Jim for a few more minutes, catching them up on the latest details of your life, and then grabbed a Michelob to give you some liquid courage as you walked to the backyard.

There was people dancing, circles of people talking, various games being played, the scene never-ending as your eyes scanned over them. A few people locked eyes with you, recognizing you as the ex, but most everybody just continued to do whatever it was that they were doing. It wasn’t until Quinn’s eyes softened from his party vibes to concerned big brother that you felt nerves wrack your body. He immediately excused himself from the group he was talking to, making his way through the small sea of people to get to you.

For a split second you wanted to run away, but the rational side of you talked you down. It was just Quinn. Quinn had done nothing to you except loved you as if you were his own sister, so why would you run?

“Y/N! I wasn’t expecting you…how are you?” You immediately threw your arms around his torso, him returning the gesture, his hug similar to the way Ellen had hugged you.

“I’m good! I had no other plans and Ellen seemed like she really wanted me here…”

“Yeah, she hasn’t shut up about you,” He laughed, recalling how his mom mentions you anytime a girl was over, even one that Luke brought, and always comparing them to you when they left.

You were the standard that she held possible daughter-in-laws to, but they never lived up to you, she would admit.

“Gotta love her,” You chuckled, a slight awkward tension fell between you, a foreign, icky, awkwardness.

“That you do,” Quinn tried to repair the conversation, but some friends began to pull him away. He had mentioned to not leave before telling him bye, and then left with the group.

“Didn’t think you’d show up here,” The voice turned your blood to ice, freezing up what the beer had tried to let loose prior. No matter how many ways you envisioned this interaction to go down, nothing could have prepared you for hearing his voice after so long. It wasn��t like “nails on a chalkboard” irritating, but more along the lines when you pick a scab and it starts bleeding again.

That’s quite literally what it was. He was an old wound in your life that was becoming irritated because it was being messed with. No matter how much time had passed, it was still sensitive.

“Well, didn’t think I would be here either. It’s just as much a surprise to me as it is to you,” You turned around, met with the beautiful, curly-haired boy that was once your everything and a petit blonde that was his temporary. She was gorgeous, you’d give her that. But it wasn’t real beauty. It was bought. There’s nothing wrong with that, but her bleach blonde hair, fake tan, and push-up bra was irritating like nails on a chalkboard.

“Do you mind going to get us something to drink?” He turned to his date, giving him the empty bottle that his hand wrapped around.

“Is that a Michelob Ultra?” You almost snorted, her question a breath of fresh air in this unfortunate meeting.

“Not her and I, you and I,” Luke quickly cleared up.

She left with a smirk playing at her lips, kissing his cheek and heading inside.

“God, please let’s go somewhere else,” He grabbed your arm, tugging you to a secluded, area beside the shed out back. Your brain told you to rip your arm from his grip and scold him for thinking it was okay to ever touch you again, but your deemed in control and allow his touch to erupt butterflies in your tummy.

“I don’t know what I was thinking bringing her here,” he groaned, realizing he was still holding onto you, quickly letting go.

“She seems more Jack’s type, if you ask me,” You suggested, Luke squinting his eyes at your words.

“Good thing I didn’t ask…” He may have been the reason the relationship ended, but he wasn’t going to put up with any slander that you had for his current life. The life that didn’t include you.

“Whatever, why did you bring me here?” You looked around at the spot. It had definitely been a spot where the two of you had snuck off to make out several times, escaping the teasing of his older brothers.

“To talk…” He shift his weight to his heels, his hands finding warmth in the pockets on his pants.

“Oh! To talk about you being a complete dipshit and cheating on me this past summer? Yes, let’s talk about that!” Sarcasm dripped from your voice like venom from a snake, targeting the next victim: Luke.

“I’m sorry…” Again, the empty apologies were beginning to grind at you now. You didn’t want the apologies or the excuses. You wanted him to shut up for once, hear you out, and then come up with a genuine apology. He had said his piece, now it was time for you to say yours.

“No, Luke. You’re not sorry for cheating, you’re sorry you got caught. Save the apologies for when you actually mean them,” You started, him immediately shutting up and listening.

“We were so fucking toxic. You know it, I know it. The whole world probably knows it by now. But, God, I loved you so much. I would have spent my whole life trying to fight for that stupid relationship and you turned around and threw it all away. And for what? Some temporary pleasure? You couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to get back to me?” Your words shot through him, like bullets hitting glass, shattering the surrounding areas. He couldn’t argue because everything that you were saying was true, but he’d be damned if he let you find satisfaction in being right.

“You said it yourself, it was toxic! You probably would’ve found a problem with me being there without you, anyway!” He tried to defend himself, but he was fanning a flame that he shouldn’t be messing with right now.

“Don’t you dare try to manipulate me into thinking your cheating was justified! Luke Hughes, I’ve said some fucked up shit throughout the years, but I never have, and never will ruin your trust. That’s the type of shit that lasts a lifetime. I can’t date anybody else because there’s always that ‘what if’ of them cheating!” Tears brimmed your eyes, softening the wall that surrounded Luke’s heart. He was a tough guy, but the sight of you hurting was a soft spot for him, an Achilles heel.

“You promised me a future, and then turned around and burned it to the ground without a second thought once you got a taste of fame,” Your finger poked at his chest hard enough for him to wince, expecting to see bruises the next morning.

“You’re a liar! A fucking liar and cheater!” Your voice broke as the words left your mouth, but Luke took the verbal beating that he deserved.

“Do you think I want to be labeled as a cheater, Y/N?! I’ve prayed for months that I’d just wake up and it not be real, that we’d still be together!”

“Awe, so sad, Luke. Truly heart wrenching!” You grabbed at your heart, feigning compassion as he began to clench his jaw, the muscle flexing as his annoyance rose. It was hot, but not hot enough for you to do anything about it.

“Stop being such a bitch, it may suit you, but it doesn’t mean you have to wear it.” His eyes grew dark, almost challenging you to see who would win in a game of insults.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I was supposed to act however you deemed fit. Even if you’re a cheater…”

“I cheated, I’m not a cheater,” he tried to correct, a viscous chuckle tumbling from your mouth in response.

“I’m not! That’s the one and only time that it will ever happen, I can promise you that!” His voice rose in volume as he continued to defend himself.

“Oh, one and done Luke! How nice! My trust is fixed, so there’s nothing left to worry about!” The sound of people counting down in the background didn’t distract you.

10…9….8…

“If I’ve had anything in the past months it’s peace in knowing I don’t have to put up with your fucking nagging anymore!”

7…6…5…

“Yeah, and I don’t have to worry about you fucking some rando anymore!”

4…3…2…

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

1…

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The voices erupted behind the shed, but the whirlwind of a kiss muffled it all.

Luke eagerly pulled your face toward him, his lips colliding as intensely as a train hitting a car on the tracks. An accident waiting to happen, but there nothing that could be done about it.

It took a second or two, but you kissed back with the same passion as him, him pushing you backwards until your back hit the wall of the shed.

His lips were like home, sweet and comforting. The remnants of his vodka redbull tempting your taste buds to plunge deeper, but you didn’t, you let him set the pace.

One of his hands tilted your chin up, steadying it as the other pulled you closer from the small of your back. Every sense inside of you erupted in fireworks as his tongue tried to gain entrance into your mouth, but you stood your ground, or tried to at least.

The hand that steadied your chin found itself wrapped around your neck, the shock causing you to gasp as he gained entrance.

“Luke! I finally found something to drink, but we missed our-” The voice immediately tore the two of you apart, the fireworks over the lake and store bought pretty interrupting the fireworks that were going off inside of you. Your breathing was a little shallow as you tried to control it again.

“-kiss. What the hell.” She glanced between the two of you before storming off, her stiletto sinking into the grass as she desperately tried to remove it from her foot.

Luke groaned, but the chirping had just begun for you, “One and done, huh?”

“Me and her aren’t even dating!” He squealed.

“We’re talking about this tomorrow, Y/N. Do you understand me?” He pointed at you as he began to smooth over yet another failed attempt at dating, but he wasn’t going to reconcile that one.

“Aye aye, Captain,” You gave him a silly salute, earning an eye roll from him, but as soon as he turned away from you the smile wouldn’t disappear.

Call you crazy, but you hadn’t felt butterflies for a long time, probably since his note to you. What you felt tonight was an army of butterflies being obliterated by fireworks. The feeling of his fingers around your neck, his jaw muscle contracting, everything about him had turned you on.

Did you really fold that easily?

Oh well. The thought of the next day, the possibility of getting him back, along with his family far outweighed your pride.

He could be your Luke once more.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Girl with One Eye 𓁹

Synopsis: In a town shrouded in whispers and shadows, Alastor’s love is both a curse and a sanctuary. Obsessed with the innocent girl he claims as his own, his affection is a dangerous blend of possessiveness and madness. She, a once free spirit, finds herself ensnared in his dark embrace, her world shrinking as his control tightens.

Warnings: Yandere Alastor!!, obsessive tendencies, stalking, mental abuse, emotional abuse(?), depression tendencies, mentions of murder, mentions of psychotic tendencies, stockholm syndrome

A/N: Hello Hello, i’m crawling out of my seasonal depression to write this because it was nagging at me. i’m still proofreading two chapters for infernal shadows, but the taglist is so long i might just have to make separate posts for that lol, but thank you all so much for the support on the story, i genuinely love that you guys are still reading it even if it is months old! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!

Listen to: Girl with one eye by Florence + the Machine while reading !!

Masterlist!! // Navigation!!

She was his perfect picture of innocence, her laughter like the soft tinkling of bells in the silent night. But Alastor, with his devilish grin and eyes that held a thousand secrets, saw something else in her. To him, she was a treasure, a prize to be kept and guarded, even if it meant locking her away from the world.

He watched her from the shadows, his obsession growing with each passing day. The world was a dangerous place, he convinced himself, that only he could protect her. His love was a consuming forest fire, burning away any rational thought, leaving only the primal need to possess.

She tried to resist at first, her defiance a spark in the darkness. But Alastor's patience was infinite, his methods meticulous. He knew how to break her, to bend her will to his. The nights were long, filled with whispered promises and threats, the lines between love and madness blurring until they were indistinguishable.

Her eyes, once bright with hope and dreams, now held a haunted look. She was his, utterly and completely, but at what cost? Alastor's love was a cage, beautiful and gilded, but a cage nonetheless. She sang sweet songs to herself, a desperate attempt to remember who she once was, but the melody always carried a note of sorrow.

She was left with nothing but her memories, fragments of a life she could no longer touch. Alastor's presence was a constant reminder of her captivity, his love a dark shadow that loomed over her every moment. She was seeing only the world he allowed her to see, trapped in a love that was as destructive as it was consuming.

Alastor's love for her was like a poison, seeping into every crevice of her life. He showered her with gifts, each one a symbol of his twisted devotion. Flowers that seemed to bloom only in his presence, jewelry that sparkled like the madness in his eyes, and clothes that he chose, wrapping her in his dark affections. His love was suffocating, a constant presence that left her breathless and on edge.

He spoke to her in a voice as smooth as velvet, each word laced with a hidden menace.

"You are mine,"

he would say, his fingers tracing the curve of her face with a possessiveness that sent shivers down her spine.

"No one else will ever have you. I will protect you from this cruel world."

His protection felt more like imprisonment, the walls of her life closing in around her.

Everywhere she turned, there he was, a dark figure watching, waiting. He knew her every move, her every thought, as if her mind was an open book for him to read. His obsession knew no bounds. He took pleasure in her fear, in the way her eyes darted nervously when she sensed him near her. It was a game to him, a dance of predator and prey, and he reveled in the control he held over her.

He would whisper sweet nothings into her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

"I love you more than life itself,"

he would croon, but his love was a twisted, distorted thing. It wasn't love; it was ownership, a claim that he had staked on her soul. He would caress her hair, his touch a mix of gentleness and danger, a reminder that her safety, her life, was entirely in his hands.

She became a prisoner in her own home, the locks and chains of his love binding her tighter with each passing day. He forbade her from seeing friends, from leaving the house without his permission. His jealousy was a living thing, almost its own being, coiled and ready to strike at any perceived threat to his dominion over her.

"They don't understand you like I do,"

he would say, his eyes dark with intensity.

"They can't love you the way I can."

The more she tried to pull away, the tighter his grip became. He would punish her disobedience with a cold, calculating precision, a reminder of who held the power. Yet, in his own twisted way, he believed he was doing it all for her, that his suffocating presence was a testament to his love. He couldn't see the damage he was causing, the way he was breaking her piece by piece.

Alastor's love was a dark fairy tale, a story of obsession and control. To him, she was the princess locked in the tower, and he the self-appointed guardian. But in truth, he was the dragon, and his love was the fire that consumed her. And so, she remained, a prisoner of his affection, the girl with one eye, seeing only the twisted love that bound her to him, forever trapped in Alastor's dark embrace.

One night, a suitor from her past made the mistake of trying to rekindle what had never truly been there. His advances were unwanted, his persistence unsettling. He cornered her in a dark alley, his words dripping with entitlement and anger when she rebuffed him. Fear and desperation gripped her as she struggled to push him away, his hands rough and invasive.

In that moment, her thoughts turned to Alastor. The man who had taken everything from her, yet the only one she could think to rely on. She knew what he was capable of, the lengths he would go to for her. Despite everything, a part of her found comfort in his possessiveness, a twisted sense of security in his dangerous love.

She fled to Alastor, tears streaming down her face, her body trembling with a mix of fear and anger. He held her close, his touch both soothing and ominous. "Who did this to you?" he demanded, his voice menacing. His hands didn’t shake holding her though, he fought his nerves to keep his composure. There were bruises and burn marks adorning her skin, and it bothered him to no end how the one time he did take his eyes off her, she was hurt.

She looked into his eyes, seeing the darkness within them, and for the first time, she didn't flinch. "I can’t say, but, Alastor I-“," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I want you to get rid of him… please"

A slow, sinister smile spread across Alastor's face. " Of course my dear" he said, his tone filled with a chilling certainty. He left her then, disappearing into the night like a specter of vengeance.

The next day, the news spread quickly. The suitor was found, a lifeless man, his body marked by the brutal handiwork of Alastor's wrath. The town whispered of the horrors inflicted upon him, the message clear to all: she was not to be touched.

As she read the reports, a twisted sense of satisfaction washed over her. She knew what she had done, what it meant. By asking Alastor to get rid of the suitor, she had accepted his dark love, embraced it in her own way. The fear was still there, but it was accompanied by a strange, sickening warmth.

Alastor returned, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous pride. He took her hand, pressing it to his lips. "You look ravishing dear" he said softly, his voice a blend of possessiveness and affection. " Thank you for being so patient."

She nodded, the weight of his words sinking into her soul. In his arms, she felt a perverse sense of safety, a dark comfort that she couldn't deny. She had become a part of his world, her own love twisted and corrupted by his influence.

In the end, she was the girl with one eye, not only seeing the world through the lens of his love but also accepting it, finding a dark solace in the madness they shared. Her heart was bound to his, a willing prisoner in the gilded cage of his obsession.

[incendiobrock]

Boston Blues {Matt Sturniolo}

Request: Linked here

Prompt(s): A showing up to B's doorstep, soaking from the rain + "Wait, don't go. Please..."

Warnings: mentions of emotional abuse (parents), language

You had always loved growing up in Boston. The colorful leaves on the trees in the fall, the fluffy, white snow in the winter, watching the flowers bloom in the spring, and relaxing by your friends pool in the summer. Every season in Boston had its perks, and sharing those memories with three of your neighbors made it that much sweeter.

When you were in middle school you had met three boys that lived down the street from you. You were waiting at the bus stop when they had arrived and introduced themselves as Nick, Matt, and Chris. The four of you instantly became inseparable and would spend every waking moment together, considering all you had to do was walk down the street and knock on their front door.

As the years went on the friendship grew, and a special spark had formed between you and Matt. Matt was your escape from reality, the anchor to your ship. Throughout your last couple years in high school there was a divide between your parents. They constantly argued into the late hours of the night, and somehow you were always brought into it. Your parents made it difficult to be home so you began to seek refuge in Matt.

Matt was the support system you needed to keep yourself from dwelling on the fact that you had such a strained relationship with your parents. You began catching feelings for the boy, which he had reciprocated. Things were untraditional in the relationship you had formed because your parents had made you lose the longing for a true relationship. They showed you that love doesn't always last and someone you love could easily become someone you hate, and that thought terrified you. Matt understood your anxieties, knowing about your home life, and let you take things at your own pace. There was no label, due to your fear of abandonment, but you were practically dating on every other level.

Now, you were both twenty years old, graduated from high school, and trying to begin figuring out adulthood. Matt and his brothers had started a YouTube channel that grew tremendously in popularity and brought in some extra pocket change. They all loved doing it, and you supported them the whole way. As you stood in their parents kitchen late one night they began discussing their future.

"I really wish we had our own space to make content. I love filming the car videos, but it would be nice to film content in a house without having to worry about disturbing mom and dad." Chris shared, taking a sip out of his Pepsi can.

"Yeah, I've been really thinking about LA ever since we've gone those few times to visit Madi." Nick added, agreeing with his brother that they would benefit from their own space. You stayed silent as you sat at the island, scared about the thought of losing your three closest friends. The chat that night was just a daydream the boys had, nothing set in stone until about a month later.

Matt paced his bedroom, dragging his feet lightly on the hardwood floors. He was waiting for you to come over so he could tell you some news that he knew would be difficult for you to hear. A light knock on his door pulled him out of his trance, "Come in!" He said. Slowly, you peeled open the door, spotting Matt standing at the foot of his bed. You smiled widely, walking over to him and initiating a hug. "Hi Matt," You said under your breath, instantly feeling lighter in his presence.

He felt himself gulp as you pulled back from the hug, you had no idea what was about to come. "Hey." He replied, taking a seat on the edge of his bed and patting the space next to him for you to sit. You complied, plopping down on his plush bed and throwing your legs over his lap as you faced towards him. His hands rested on your knees as he began to twirl the silver ring he wore on his index finger.

"Matt, what's wrong? You seem stressed?" Your hand reached out to take place on top of his, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles soothingly. His eyes remained glued to his lap as he took in a shaky breath.

"Nick, Chris, and I are moving to LA... We bought a house over there and we will be moving in a couple weeks. I know this is really sudden but we didn't know the turn around would be so fast until our offer on the house got accepted." His eyes had finally met with yours, watching as your face fell into a frown.

"Oh-" Was all you managed to say back, now you were the one looking at your lap.

"I want you to come with me." He said, placing a hand on your shoulder which causes you to reconnect your eyes with his. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you repeated what he had said inside your head. You shook your head, letting out an exasperated chuckle, "You know I can't leave Boston."

"Why not? You're an adult for one, plus you hate being at your house with your parents." Matt countered.

"I know... But I don't have a steady income and I just can't." Your head was spinning, thinking about what he was asking you to do. Leave your whole life behind and move halfway across the country with him? What if he decided he hated you one day and you were stuck stranded out on the West coast?

"Come on y/n, you're being ridiculous. I will help you out, I love you so much I just want you to come with me, please." Matt begged.

You shot up off the bed, glaring at him as he watched in shock at your sudden movement. "I said I can't Matt! Don't try to force me to move halfway across the country with you!" You said, raising your voice and feeling your emotions begin to catch up to you. This wasn’t a simple request that he was asking you to fulfill, this was leaving behind everything you had ever known. Jumping straight into a pit of fire, burning you with your own insecurities of being too caught up in a relationship, leaving you vulnerable to being abandoned.

"I'm not trying to force you!-"

"Yes you are! I can’t just leave my whole life behind for you! Have fun with Nick and Chris... I'm not moving." And with that, you stormed out of his room making sure the door slammed behind you. You knew deep down that he was going to leave you eventually, you just didn't expect it to be today. This was exactly why you never made anything official between you two.

---

Two weeks had passed and you hadn't heard a single word from Matt. You spent a lot of time in your bed, unable to leave it. You hadn't felt hungry and your eyes were red from all the tears you had cried. The whole time you had been apart you reminisced on all the years you had spent with Matt and the other boys. You weren't sure you were ready to leave that all behind. Nick had messaged you a few times throughout the weeks, updating you on their move. Today was finally the dreaded day.

Rain tapped on your window as it steadily poured outside. It's like the world knew how depressed you had been, reflecting your own emotions with the weather forecast. The boys had to leave to go to the airport in a little less than two hours. The walls in your house were extremely thin, allowing you to hear your parents yelling from down the stairs. Did you really want to live here like this? A numbing headache pounded in your head as you listened to the screeching downstairs.

Without thinking you pulled a small suitcase out of the back corner of your closet. Necessities and a small amount of clothes began to pile in, only grabbing what you absolutely needed. You didn’t have time to think about your actions, knowing that your own fears were going to hold you back if you let them. If things didn’t work out then you would just figure out a new plan, or so you tried reminding yourself. After grabbing as much as you could fit into your suitcase you checked the time on your phone, 1:47pm… They would be leaving to get to the airport any minute now.

The wheels on your suitcase echoed as you dragged it down the hallway, leading to the stairs. You ran down them and into the living room, causing your parents to stop their fighting and look over at you. Shock caused your body to stop in place, wide eyes looking back at your parents as they both stood with their arms crossed over their chest, angry scowls on their face. “Where do you think you’re going?” Your dad’s voice boomed, surrounding the stagnant air. Doubt about your plan began rushing back, worried about how your parents were going to react when you told them you were leaving to move across the country with a boy that they hadn’t even met. Sure, they knew who Matt was, and they had seen him around, but you never introduced him.

You swallowed some saliva as you began to walk quickly towards the front door, trying to keep your head held high, “I’m sorry, I don’t have time to explain. I promise I’ll text you when I land!” By this point your hand was on the door knob and you were stepping out into the freezing cold rain.

“Land? What do you mean land?” Your mom yells, as you shut the front door and take off down the street, your suitcase rolling behind you. It was in moments like these you felt thankful that the triplets only lived down the street from your house. Rain drops pelted you in the face, soaking through your jeans and hoodie. From a distance you could see Nick, Matt, and Chris packing the trunk of the van with their belongings.

“Wait!” You yelled, causing them all to look up at you as your feet smacked against the wet, gravel road. Finally, you had reached their house. Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath.

“Kid, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Chris asked, taking ahold of the handle of your suitcase and rolling it away from your body.

“Wait, don’t go… Please!” You got out, between some huffs of air.

“Our flight is at 2:45, we have to go y/n…” Matt said solemnly, feeling his heart break seeing you standing in front of him for the last time, covered in rain. You shook your head, taking a step closer to Matt and taking his hands into your own, “Not without me.” Tears formed in your eyes as you tried to choke back your emotion.

Matt’s hands immediately let go of yours as he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms over your shoulders. You accepted the hug, tightening your grip around his torso, snuggling your face into his chest. You didn’t think you would ever get to feel him hold again. You were thankful the trunk of the car was covering you both as the rain continued falling around you. “You’re coming with us?” He whispered, trying to convince himself that what you said was true. He felt your head nod, confirming his question and mending his breaking heart.

His hands found sanctuary on the sides of your face as he pulled your lips in for a rough kiss. You kissed him back with passion, thanking your mind for not holding you back from this moment. After the kiss, your foreheads rested against one another and a soft smile formed across your lips.

“I love you, Matt. Let’s go to LA.”

“I love you more… You have no idea how happy I am that you’re coming with me.”

[deviantly-inspired]

Dreamling concept

I absolutely love the 600 year slow burn to friendship and then wildfire romance that's in dreamling fics (it's IMMENSELY satisfying) but also, please consider:

after they finally (finally) become friends after 600 years they just... take their time, with romance. They spend years getting to know each other, genuinely, as friends. They don't know eachother, not really, until Dream has held Hob while he sobs over a loved one dying AND when he's seen Hob in his PJs eating ice cream out the pint because his students have stressed him out to the point of needing either ice cream or violence and Hob likes to think he chooses violence less often these days. And Hob doesn't really know Dream until he's heard that awful laugh, some unholy mix between braying donkey and the sound of magma shifting beneath the earth's crust OR until he's watched Dream scowl at the tele because they got to the last episode of "Game of Thrones" and Dream isn't any happier then anyone else is about a lot of those decisions.

And they spend days and weeks and years of being in one another's pockets. Choosing to come together again and again for a pint or a season binge or a silent supporting friend when the weight of living is a little harder. They earn each other's trust, and because they're both a little dense and maybe a lot more walking-wounded, the moment that each of them realizes that the other trusts them is, well, it's something that makes life worth living, for both of them.

Hob realizes Dream trusts him first, something small, something like Hob going to guide Dream out of the way and Dream just goes without any sort of hesitation. Not mountains or meteors could move Dream if he didn't want to, but he just goes to where Hob guides him out of the way so Hob can take the carrots out of the oven. It's enough to humble a man, and Hob might have a little cry over it later, in private, but for now he grins and tells Dream he has to try the carrots with the lamb, he hasn't lived until he's done so.

And Dream is a little slower to realize, I think. Because Hob is pretty open and friendly, it's a bit harder for Dream who's not so good with interacting with people face-to-face, to tell that Hob doesn't really get close to very many people for all that plenty seem to like him. There's a few exceptions, but even they are kept at a distinct distance. And it's maybe something small, like a small party or gathering of some of Hob's friends and it's late and folks are tipsy and Hob just kinda... dozes off against Dream. And Dream doesn't think anything of it, Hob does this quite often but Hob's other friends are immediately very surprised: Hob doesn't sleep in front of others, they explain. A relic from the war/traumatic past/whatever Hob's used to tell them. No matter how late or how tired or even how drunk he is, Hob would rather drive/bus/walk home then sleep where others can see him. You must be pretty special, one of them says. He even fell asleep on you like that: I've never seen him look so relaxed.

And I think that there's something beautiful about the slow, inescapable draw of it. It's like two meteors from opposite ends of the galaxy that have been on a collision course for eons. They both have moments of realizing that they're falling in love. They know it's going to happen, and the tension is slow and sweet and lovely. And there's no need to rush, because there's trust there too. Sometimes they'll meet gazes and they'll know, both of them, in that moment that they're in love. That, someday, what's growing between them is going to be a bloom unlike anything the universe has ever seen before. And they'll smile together and continue watching bad tv dramas or swapping gossip or sharing their pints and maybe their shoulders brush and their touches linger a bit longer that night but it's okay. There's no need to rush. They have forever after all.

And I think also that Dream is just a dramatic romantic enough of a bastard to confess to Hob on June 7, 2089 and i think Hob is just enough of a dramatic romantic to tell Dream that he certainly took his time.

I'm not late, am I, Dream will ask.

Of course not, Hob will laugh, you're exactly on time. We've plenty of it.

And in the Dreaming there will be a quiet warm breeze and gentle sunshowers as in the deepest heart of the dreaming a flower never before seen blooms awake. And in the waking two friends close the gap between them and talk about how Sally next door really needs to stop over watering her flowers she's going to drown the poor things, really.

And then they'll have the absolute longest courtship and engagement of anyone in the universe. There will be entire religions that will rise and fall before they get married. Pantheons will come into existence and be utterly dumbfounded when they're invited to Dream of the Endless and Hob Gadling weddings because weren't they already married? They've been together since the beginning of it all.

It's be great.

[jacesbeloved]

warm milk ✷ j. velaryon

✷ ⎯ summary: inspired by the prompt, "I gave up on you a long time ago."

✷ ⎯ tags: jacaerys velaryon x stark!reader

✷ ⎯ notes: this one's a short angst drabble to get my writing going!! enjoy ^w^

It is the last day of Jacaerys' campaign to the North. In a few hours time, he will return back to Dragonstone with the North fighting for his mother's claim to the iron throne.

In his mind, all went well. He got what he came for, support of the Warden of the North, Cregan Stark.

In his heart, nothing is right. The wound in his heart from when you left King's Landing was still there and each moment that you two waste without speaking to each other, the ache in his heart became more and more apparent.

"May we invite you to one more dinner, my prince?" Cregan asks. Jacaerys had not planned to stay for another dinner, he planned on flying out before nightfall but what Cregan adds on makes him stay.

"It will be my sister, the Lady Snow, that will be preparing the feast."

You weren't there to see how he almost choked on the nuts that he was eating, nor were you there to witness the sly smirk your brother had on his lips when Jacaerys agreed to stay for one last dinner in Winterfell.

Earlier that day, you were told by your brother that Prince Jacaerys will be leaving before the sun sets. So when you see him in godswood with a servant playing a lute, just as the sun was setting, you were surprised.

"Lady Snow," he hastily stands up, seeing you holding bundle of firewood against your thick blue dress.

"I thought you had departed already?" You say with a puzzled look. Taking a step closer to the prince.

Jacaerys purses his lips awkwardly, clasping his hands together, "I was told to say for supper. Lord Cregan told me about your expertise in preparing such feasts."

Truth be told, you do not know how to cook. You could barely season meat properly to the point that it would be edible enough for even a direwolf to eat. Though it might just be your one of your brother's over exaggerations for that one time you cooked him supper, you were sure to never touch a skillet again because of his remarks.

And so when he tells you that, you weren't sure whether to take offense or laugh. Take offense because he might be being sarcastic—which you know Jacaerys is no stranger to—or laugh because how could he possibly believe that you are great at cooking when you almost—

"I figured it would be a grave sin for me not to witness your stellar development in cooking when before you almost burned down the Red Keep because you wanted to boil your milk."

There it is. There it is.

That smile that you've grown fond of ever since your father took you to King's Landing to pledge fealty to King Viserys' heir, Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Jacaerys thought you took offense in his statement, ready to apologize, when in reality you simply didn't notice that you had been looking at him silently with a neutral face. Not being able to reply to his lighthearted diss.

"I... I was just joking," he says awkwardly.

That snaps you out of your own mind and you finally respond. You shake your head, chuckling breathlessly but still not bothering to say a word. It was like your legs had frozen on the spot.

You should really make a move. Jacaerys thought to himself.

Reply. You should reply to him. You thought in your head.

Both of you were pushing yourselves to talk to one another but none of you seem to have the will to do it. Being hindered by your own pride to initiate another conversation.

It was all quiet not until the servant messes up his play. The wrong strum of the lute's strings making you both blurt out the same sentence as if the whole situation wasn't as awkward as it already is.

"I'm sorry."

Jacaerys' eyes widen when that sentence also came from you. Feeling his throat go dry, he gulps. He turns to the servant as he nods at him, handing the servant something as he walks by Jacaerys as he left.

After another period of silence, you finally use up all of your courage. You speak, "Do you want to go on a walk?"

"Very much." The prince replies faster than he wanted to. The enthusiasm making your own heart howl.

The two of you leave the godswood, walking out into the winter town when Jacaerys notices the muddy path that you two are about to go to. "Is it okay? Your dress might get dirty," he says with a halt.

"My dress is the least of my worries, my prince."

He raises an eyebrow while letting out a breath, "What is it that worries you the most then?"

You scoff, "Respectfully, I do not know how verbalizing my worries to you may help me in my future days."

"Well, I am the heir once my mother gets back her throne. I might as well know what it is that worries the leaders of the houses."

You look at him with a puzzled look. The Jacaerys you knew would not be this bold enough to speak as an heir. Back then, he would still express his grievances about being talked about around the Red Keep as a bastard of his mother.

Maybe the war only did one thing—two things right: build his confidence up and, cross your paths again.

Only it would be too much of a heartbreak if you two continue on as how you both were before. Mindless lovers that pin at each other despite the responsibilities you both shoulder.

You begin walking again and he offers his arm as you do so. Despite hesitating, you hooked your arm in his. "What worries me, my prince, is that choosing to spend this minute with you might be harmful in the long run."

"Harmful? How come?" He asks gently albeit the bad feeling creeping up in his heart.

It takes you a minute to think if it is really needed for you to reply. You didn't know if your brother has yet to tell him or if he was just acting stupid.

"I am to marry Collif Tully," you say quietly but you're sure he heard it loud and clear.

The prince falls silent, unable to formulate the response he wants to give without sounding hurt because he is hurt. His heart is aching.

"The wedding will be held after the war but even before then, we are to be husband and wife in practice." You explain further. You couldn't look at himself as well. Fearing that when you do, you might just break an oath for him.

He finally manages to clear his throat, pursing his lips and nodding. "How cruel of the gods to still give us time, then."

You sigh, "The gods have no part in this."

Your legs stop and you look at him. Jacaerys doing the same but a second slower. You do the unthinkable and intertwine your hand in his only to feel how cold it is.

"I gave up on you a long time ago, Jace." Your voice breaks at the mention of his name. The prince looking away as the familiar feeling of sadness swallowing his heart whole. "I hope you did the same too."

He takes in a deep breath, holding your intertwined hands up and placing his other hand on top of it.

"You didn't?" You ask him.

Jacaerys smiles at you. "I do not wish to lie to you."

It pained you hearing the grief in his voice. A man could be deaf and still the absolute pain laced through his words and smile.

"I do not want us to end on such a heartbreaking note." Jacaerys admits as he takes off his hand. You nod, at least the both of you are at the same page of that.

"I hope you know that I stayed for one more night not because I wanted to eat supper at Winterfell that you allegedly are preparing," he starts and you feel your heart beat faster.

"I stayed because I could never forgive myself if I left you again without even having so much as a word with you, not knowing when our paths will cross again… if it will cross again.”

You put a your gloved hand on his cheek, Jacaerys softly moving his face against it as the two of you stare longingly at each other.

The both of you stayed still for the moment before he pulls your hand off gently. "Now, must we head back? I would really like some warm milk. I believe you'd know how to boil some now considering you are to be the future Lady of the Riverruns."

You chuckle at his jest but you nod nonetheless. You hook your arm back into his gleefully. "Of course, my prince. Anything for the future king of the iron throne."

if you liked my writing, you might want to consider buying me a ko-fi <3

[kotoku]

may we have some platonic dunmeshi headcanons where the reader is a half elf and Marcille’s friend who she went to magic school with (up until the reader dropped out) and they’re sorta her opposite? (in a complimentary way)

think like Eda and Lilith from the the owl house (season 2)

the touden party with a half-elf! reader

content - half elf and half tall-man applied to reader / pre-storyline and current storyline / platonic headcanons / marcille and reader are childhood friends who are the complete opposite of each other

pairings - laios touden & half-elf!reader / chilchuck tims & half-elf!reader / marcille donata & half-elf!reader / senshi & half-elf!reader / izutsumi & half-elf!reader

warnings - a bit of spoilers towards the end of marcille’s part

note - i hope i did this right ! if i didn't please let me know and i can always rewrite it to your taste. ^^

word count - 1.8k

background - You were a mix of elf and tall-man attending magic school as a researcher alongside your childhood friend Marcille. The two of you were inseparable while growing up, despite your contrasting personalities. 

Eventually, Marcille introduced you to a new friend named Falin, a student attending the school. You knew that Falin was considered an outcast by the rest of the students, but you took the time to get to know her and the three of you became close friends.

With Falin disappearing, you and Marcille were very worried until you received a request from said woman. With you and Marcille making your way to the island to reunite with Falin, you had felt a bit nervous about the idea of meeting her brother and venturing into the dungeon. 

✤✤✤✤

✢  You had heard of Laios from Falin, who seemed very passionate about her brother, always referring to his hard-working and caring nature (..and weirdness…)

✢ Unlike Marcille who had been wary upon first meeting him, you were quite open and friendly to the blond tall-man, despite your quietness

✢ Laio’s is honestly a bit nervous when meeting you, hardly encountering any elves in his homeland and on the island 

✢ As time goes on though, the two of you become inseparable, always looking out for each other and protecting Falin and Marcille 

✢ Sometimes, when you two are the only ones up during the night, you’ll make conversation with the blond, listening to his monster ramblings and such

✢ Laios is grateful to have you around, appreciative of your active listening and engagement with his rambles (and for being Falin’s friend)

✢ When Falin is eaten by the red dragon, you stay back with Marcille (of course, determined to get your close friend back

✢ During the nights that are rough on Laios, you are there to silently comfort him, offering him your company and support 

✢ Laios was never bothered by your lack of words, finding your true intentions and emotions through your actions (he was super observant of you and understood most of your mannerisms)

✢ Forgot to mention this but… When Laios finds out that you're actually half-elf like Marcille, he’s pretty surprised and is interested in your background (was your mom an elf and dad a tall-man? or the other way around?) 

✤✤✤✤

✢ Chilchuck respects you in a professional sense, not really interested in you at first, only asking questions about your magic abilities and skills

✢ Honestly, I think the two of you wouldn’t get along in the beginning, not because you hate each other, but because you’re so quiet and he’s just weirded out by you 

✢ It isn’t until the two of you are drinking that he lets a little loose and inquires more about the kind of magic you use, etc…

✢ It is during this time that he gets to know about you (your background, your schooling, your interests..etc…), dropping the professionalism

✢ You don’t really get to know much about him, to your annoyance 

✢ It isn’t until during one of the party’s night watches, where you are unable to sleep and are left with Chilchuck who was on first watch, that you get to know about him (about his 3 kids, his situation with his ex-wife, etc…)

✢ It takes time for him to fully open up to you, but when he does, he just gives you crumbs of his lore (you are left to piece it all together)

✢ During this time you grow to respect each other, having the other’s back during fights and brawls

✢ Chilchuck, though he’d never admit it, would be grateful for your presence in the party, finding you the most tolerable member there 

✢ He’s hesitant to call you his friend, but just slowly accepts that fact (the same for the rest of the party)

✢ When you reveal the fact that you're a half-elf half-tall-man like Marcille, he’s taken aback but doesn’t view you any different

✢ He likes you the way you are and it’ll be hard for his feelings to budge about you, so don’t expect him to be fawning over you being 50/50 or rejecting you for being 50/50

✤✤✤✤

✢ Ahh Marcille… Your childhood friend

✢ Growing up alongside Marcille, the two of you know all about each other (likes, dislikes, goals, her obsession with The Daltian Clan…)

✢ I can picture the two of you having a self-care night, doing face masks, cleaning up your nails, playing with each other's hair, etc…

✢ People are surprised by the harmony between you and Marcille, as she is much more expressive and hot-headed and you’re more reserved and relaxed

✢ It is these differences that bring you two closer, as Marcille finds your personality enjoyable to have around (it’s like a breath of fresh air for her)

✢ The two of you have different areas of magic that you research, but attend the same magic school as Falin

✢ You have been through thick and thin with Marcille, whether it was enduring the hardships of studying, traversing the dungeon, eating monsters, and eventually rescuing Falin 

✢ Honestly, it feels nice knowing that she’s not the only half and half in.. basically the community the two of you grew up in

✢ Marcille would definitely go to you to talk about The Daltian Clan, even if you don’t even read it

✢ She’s able to confide in you her difficulties of being both an elf and tall-man, and you’re welcome to do the same with her

✢ Marcille is so grateful to have you as a friend, finding comfort in your presence during your adventures in the dungeon

✢ She’s especially grateful to have you during Falin’s disappearance, promising to protect each other as you venture deeper

✢ SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA !! You’re probably the first person that’s able to break through to Marcille during her uh, time as Dungeon Lord

✢ With your convincing and your friends’ support, you were able to help calm her down 

✢ When all is said and done, you and Marcille are ecstatic to have Falin back and celebrate by having a sleepover (to catch up on everything, yknow)

✤✤✤✤

✢ Senshi’s first impression of you is that you’re a quiet but talented fella

✢ Although he’s not a fan of magic, he does find some of the spells you cast to be quite useful and efficient (he acknowledges your dedication to researching your area of magic)

✢ He is pleased to see that you aren’t reluctant to try dungeon food, offering lessons on how to make some of them

✢ You end up being his little assistant, aside from Laios, helping him with cutting up ingredients or doing certain things

✢ Sometimes you’ll be open to Senshi teaching you how to do things without magic

✢ Of course, Senshi is very insistent that you eat and rest properly (it’s especially important since you need mana)

✢ I can see Senshi forming a bond akin to a grandpa and his grandkid, trying to protect you during fights but you end up defending him more often than not (there are times he comes in clutch though)

✢ Senshi comes to understand your quiet behavior, like Laios, he can read your emotions and intentions through your actions

✢ Senshi is your No. 1 supporter, encouraging you if you’re learning how to do something and supporting you during rough nights

✢ He’s honestly a bit confused about how you and Marcille are friends, given your differing personalities, but sees how compatible the both of you are

✢ When he finds out that you’re half-elf and half-tall-man, he..doesn’t really care, that information doesn’t change his perception of you in any way

✢ Senshi will listen to you whenever you need to rant about something, he knows that bottling up your emotions can eventually lead to outbursts so he’ll be a shoulder for you to lean on

✢ He gives great advice, sometimes you’ll consult him on night watch or when you’re helping him cook

✢ Senshi deeply respects you and is grateful to have you around, he enjoys the company a lot

✤✤✤✤

✢ Izutsumi is initially interested in you, curious if you can rid her of her beastkin side

✢ However, she becomes disinterested in you when she realizes you can’t haha…

✢ She’s confused about how you and Marcille are friends, but doesn’t think about it too much (she applies her experiences with Tade with you and Marcille)

✢ Unlike Marcille who openly dotes on Izutsumi, you’d quietly show your care by letting her have some of your food, handing Marcille some products to use on Izutsumi (you’ll be damned if you’re scratched), etc…

✢ You’d probably be the best person to deal with Izutsumi though, you’d just pinch the certain space on her neck to have her freeze (you’d have some knick knacks to stun her)

✢ If Izutsumi bit or scratched you, you’d put a cone or some mittens on her 

✢ She hates you for that but understands it hurts so she tries not to act on her feelings, grumbling about it instead

✢ Gradually, Izutsumi grows closer to you, listening to you talk about your background and research with interest

✢ She’d ask some questions about what you do, inquiring more if something piques her interest

✢ When the party is sent to the Golden Castle, she’ll become clingy to both you and Marcille, pawing at you for pets and scratches which you happily accept

✢ Sometimes she will sleep at the foot of your bedroll, curling in on herself as you sleep above her

✢ When she finds out you’re half-elf, she also doesn’t care 

✢ She’ll treat you the same regardless so you don’t need to worry about any changes

[benedictscanvas]

Hi! I’m such a huge fan of your Ted Lasso fics! I completely agree that there’s not enough Roy Kent fics out there. I was wondering if I could request a fic where Roy has feelings for the physiotherapist on the team and she has feelings for him too, and he’s all upset after his final game because he won’t be able to see her anymore and he’s worried she’s upset because he undid all her hard work rehabbing his knee, but it’s all sweet and yearning. I know that’s a lot so if it’s not your thing, absolutely no worries!

i've been meaning to get to this one, because i really like it!! and i just want to thank you for ur support because ur user pops up a lot in my notifs and i appreciate you so much <3 also i've made up roy's injury and keeley is with jamie in this ahaha | 2k words (!!), tw language, hurt/comfort

Roy is barely holding himself together.

He sinks down onto the bench in the dressing room and stares straight away, eyes burning. It's like his whole body is on fire and he knows if he held his hand in front of his face, it would be shaking. He doesn't try it, instead curls his hands into fists, clenching the bench below him.

He's fucked it.

His knee. His career. His life. It had been coming, he knew, but he still expected to have a year or two left in him. Some time to come to terms with his whole world coming crashing down around him. Instead he does one stupid fucking tackle on Jamie fucking Tartt and now he's done. Even the crowd had known it. The thought of them chanting for him brings back a lump in his throat.

He sees a shadow at the door and hangs his head. Knows the outline of you too well to pretend it's anyone else. You've come to shout at him, or slap him around the face, or maybe mock him. Whatever it is, he doesn't want to hear it.

You enter silently other than the door clicking shut behind you, but Roy doesn't look up to greet you. He keeps his eyes on the floor.

"I don't-" he clears his throat when his voice comes out all hoarse. All wrong, "I don't want to hear it. I fucked it, I know, and I don't want to fucking hear it."

You don't respond, instead walking further over to him and crouching down in front of him. He'd waved you away on the pitch, surprised that you'd let him stand up and walk off. He didn't look back at you when he did, knowing all he'd see would be disappointment.

You've got your physio bag, he notices, and you're unzipping it, rifling through the contents.

"There's no point. Get out, Y/N," he tries again, voice more desperate this time, "Please."

"Would you just shut the fuck up?" you say suddenly, louder than the quiet room deserved. You sigh, at yourself it seems, but Roy is frozen in place. He'd prepared himself for you to come and shout at him, but still hadn't expected you to really do it. You never shouted.

Still, he did as he was told, because he was too stunned to argue with you.

You get an icepack on his knee immediately, grumbling under your breath but he can't make out the words. There's some gel that you rub on too, and that eases some of the pain he's in, not that he can bring himself to say thank you. When you've properly secured the icepack to his knee, you finally look up at his face.

"You might have hurt yourself more by refusing that stretcher, you twat," you spit out, and he can see the anxiety swirling across your whole face, "Why do you have to be so..."

You trail off, scoffing to yourself without finishing your sentence as your gaze drops back down to his knee. Roy is tired and in pain and frustrated - all three of which were reasons for not wanting to have this conversation right now.

"Reckless? Fucking stupid? Old as shit? It's just what I fucking am, alright? I couldn't let that shit score, and now it's over. Fucking all of it."

He hears his voice get small towards the end. You're back looking at him and shaking your head before he's even finished.

"For the season, yeah. Then we get back to fucking work, Kent. We can start you on the slow stuff, rebuild the strength. I can assess whether you'll need an op-"

"Y/N."

"Don't," you say harshly, pointing up at him, but there's a break in your voice he doesn't know what to do with, "You're not done."

"We both know that it's my fucking ACL. Two years recovery time, more 'cause I'm fucking ancient. It's over."

He sees the tears in your eyes then. Fuck. One minute he thought you were unbearably angry with him, now you were on the verge of crying? He felt slow in a whole new way, unable to keep up with where this was going.

"You've worked so fucking hard," you grind out, "It can't just...if I'd done more on your knee the last few weeks maybe...We knew it was a problem. I could have-"

It hits him like a freight train when he realises all your anger is directed at yourself. That you're blaming yourself, not him. He gulps, watches you staring off in the direction of Ted's office as your tears fall.

You've worked together ceaselessly this season. He needs a lot of treatment in a lot of areas nowadays, not that he likes to admit it. You've been there every step of the way, poking and prodding and kneading out every knot, but also laughing. Eating the occasional breakfast when he comes in early for you to work on him.

He's not sure he's ever been this into someone before. Where it's crept up on him slowly and then washed over him all at once - about a month ago when Phoebe visited Richmond. Seeing you with her was like seeing some kind of future he never thought he'd have.

He still didn't think he'd have it. This injury was proof enough that good things didn't have a habit of coming his way. It was why he'd kept quiet about it ever since he realised rather than pouring his heart out to you.

"Hey," he says gruffly, completely out of his depth, "You're blaming yourself? I thought you were fucking livid with me."

Your eyes shoot back to his despite their bloodshot nature. Despite the situation, he watches as you giggle in disbelief.

"Angry with you? When has that ever fucking happened?" you say wetly, wiping at your face with rough fingertips, "I'm your physio, Roy, I'm meant to prevent this shit. And fix it. And now I can't fucking do either."

A fresh wave of tears bubbles up over your eyelids and travels down your face as you let out a sob. It's the first time he thinks about another side effect of his career ending - he'll have to leave Richmond. All the people he's come to love, despite really not wanting to. That would include you.

With an instinct he didn't know he had, he reached out to tug on your hand. You looked up at him in surprise, but he helps to pull you up with a small groan when you don't really let him take any of your weight. He guides you to sit next to him on the bench, so you do, sniffling uncontrollably.

"You've done a fucking lot for me these last few years. Especially this season. Don't fucking beat yourself up about this. I'm the one who made the stupid tackle."

"He was through on goal. You stopped him."

"And it might not make a fucking difference."

"It might," you try, crying slowing down as you switch into protective mode. He's seen you do it many times, but it never fails to bring warmth to his face, "Look, if I can't beat myself up, neither can you. Let's just blame the fucking universe, yeah?"

He considers it. Sounds like a good way to vent his frustration without falling into a spiral of self-hatred, but it might also get you to stop crying which is all he wants in the fucking world at this moment.

"Fine. Fuck the universe."

"Fuck the universe," you agree, bumping your shoulder lightly into his own, "Now would you start crying, please, so I'm not the only one embarrassing myself?"

Roy smiles despite himself at that, happy when he turns your way and sees you smiling too.

"I'm going to cry later, in the privacy of my fucking home," he says, wrapping an arm around you because it feels like both the right time and the right place, "Like a normal fucking person."

"Fuck you," you laugh, wiping your chin with the back of your hand. Roy spots a stray tear on your collarbone and reaches to smudge it away without thinking. You shuffle closer to him, his arm still around you, and put your own hand on his thigh.

Roy's brain short-circuits.

"I'll be leaving," he says, sudden even to himself, "Can't fucking stick around if I'm not playing."

"I know," you say softly, tucking your head into his shoulder. He can't let his own head rest against yours, because he knows he'd get too comfortable. Knows he'd never want to move again.

He takes a moment. He knows what he wants to say, he's just not sure he can.

"I don't want to fucking leave," he gets out through gritted teeth, but he's left out the most important word.

You. I don't want to fucking leave you.

It's stuck in his throat as he peers down at the top of your head, still resting on him. He kicks himself inwardly when he can't get the extra word out before you start talking, index finger tracing gentle patterns just above his knee.

"Yeah, I don't want you to fucking leave either," you say, as if you're admitting something terrible. He can tell you're watching the movement of your own hand to avoid looking up at him. "You won't stick around, join the coaching staff?"

"Fuck no," he barks out, feeling you chuckle against his side, "I couldn't do that shit."

"You could," you insist, "But it's okay if you don't want to. I just thought maybe I could look after you if you did."

He tries to move away from you to look at your face with a smirk, but you stay rooted to the spot and stop drawing your patterns on his leg abruptly.

"Your knee! I meant look after your fucking knee, Jesus."

It's now or never. He's so sick of never saying what he fucking means around you, but if he can't do that, he'll settle for the next best thing.

"Do you make house calls?"

It's the worst line he's ever used. But you're here rather than watching the end of the match, and your head is on his shoulder, hand on his thigh. He wonders if maybe, his luck might be balancing out, if maybe you'll understand what he's trying and failing to say.

"Huh?"

He stifles his own chuckle at the confusion in your voice. Willing himself to just fucking do something, he takes your hand from his knee and holds it in his own, clasping on tightly. There's a spike in his heart rate when you grip his hand right back.

"I'm asking-" he begins, hoping you can't hear his heartbeat, "-if you do house calls. To look after my knee, and shit. Once I'm gone."

"Oh."

You've definitely understood his meaning. In past months, he'd be tearing his hair out over trying to read between the lines, probably taking it out on Ted or Jamie or Isaac or whoever was nearby to be shouted at. Now he's positive, as you cling to his hand, that you know what he's trying to say.

Even if he's not sure of your reaction yet, there's already a weight lifted from his chest. And whatever that fucking gel you put on his knee was, he hasn't felt the pain in it since.

"As a club physio, no," you answer slowly, but he knows that's not the end of your sentence, "No house calls. Also no going into the dressing room during a match, no putting numbing cream on an injury just cause you don't want a player in pain, no holding a player's hand."

He's grinning now. Maybe because you can't actually see him doing it, but then he locks in on something you've said amongst the floating feeling that's taken over his body.

"Wait, you put fucking numbing cream on me?"

"You're welcome," you retort, "My point is that I've clearly broken a few rules for you already. So, house calls it is. For the sake of your knee."

He squeezes your hand.

"For the sake of my fucking knee, yeah."

And because it doesn't feel so scary anymore, he puts his head on top of your own and reminds himself that he was going to cry later, not now. For now, with your hand lodged tightly in his own, he decides to think about that future he didn't think he'd ever get, instead.

---

please see this post if you would like to request your own roy/jamie drabble!! closing soon <3

[haikyuulovercompany]

Permanent Words ~ Akaashi Keiji x Reader

In this world, it's easy to know who is your soulmate, but how you find it, it's a complete surprise. One day you'll speak to someone and the very first words they direct at you will appear on your right wrist. Well... meeting your own soulmate was not only in a very premature moment in your life, but it came with a very awkward price. 'Poor Akaashi Keiji' is a thought you would spend your entire life repeating in your head.

Genre: Fluff. Soulmate!AU High School.

Warnings: None.

Words: 2.1K

Notes: No link to the 'original post' here because I took the premise of the original one and literally changed everything about it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You were having one of those days where it seemed the universe was on a personal mission to make things worse and worse for you. You had been the chosen joke of whatever superior force ruled the world.

You had stayed up very late into the night since it was a Friday. You had zero plans scheduled for the rest of the weekend and you had found a new television series that had ended two years ago and its six seasons were all available. You would have the entirety of your Saturday for yourself anyway. Or well… you had thought.

What had happened instead was your best friend calling you continuously at nine in the morning, to the point the sole buzzing of the phone successfully woke you up. You were quick to point out the day and the hour, cursing her for running your plans of waking up until after noon and staying in your pajamas for half the day. However, she didn’t apologize.

“Did you seriously forget about the Fukurodani Open Day?” your friend questioned, almost offended.

“That is till next week,” you reminded her, dropping your head back on your pillow hoping you could end the call and try to sleep a couple more hours.

“Uhh, no. It’s today.”

“What? It was till the sixteenth,” you insisted.

“Today is the sixteenth.”

You had blinked twice and removed the phone from your ear to look at the date and time. It turned out your friend was completely right. You gasped and jumped out of bed, showering your friend with apologies. The plan you had made was to get breakfast together and then head to Fukurodani together. Your friend had a crush with a guy from the basketball team. She had seen him a couple months back during a tournament game. She had been there to support his younger cousin and left the place furiously investigating everything about the school and team. As she had landed her eyes on the Open Day event, she had made you promise you would go there with her. And still, you had completely forgotten.

The plan was to go there, find the guy and have your friend talk to him and try to find out if the ‘hello there’ she planned on saying appeared on his right wrist. Neither of you had an indication if he could be ‘the one’, but your friend was so infatuated, she had sworn it was an important lead.

You took a quick shower and rushed to your closet with your hair wrapped in a towel. You didn’t have time to meticulously choose your outfit for the day, so you went for a safe option. Comfortable denim shorts and a flowy t-shirt tucked inside together with your favorite pair of sneakers. You didn’t have time to even put a bit more effort in your appearance, so you relied on your sunscreen and mascara. You always had a lip balm with you and that would have to do. You left your house and rushed through the streets. At that point, you didn’t have time to wait for the bus. You only had your legs and your will to make it up to your friend. But it seemed you couldn’t trust your body either because the tip of your sneaker got stuck on the edge of the sidewalk as you finished crossing the street and fell forward. Thankfully, your left leg managed to keep you steady but your right leg wasn’t so lucky, and so, your right knee met with the harsh concrete and got scraped. You hissed in pain as two older guys tried to check on you. You lifted a hand at them, silently letting them know you were okay. Truth was… you hated being late. You hated being in a hurry. Nothing went well when one was in a hurry and that day was proving it. Your wet hair had managed to wet the back of your t-shirt and you had forgotten your sweater, so now you were kind of cold and with nothing to help. Also, your sneaker had a dirt mark on the front and your knee hurt and was bleeding.

You couldn’t run anymore, but you could hop very fast… and you did that for the next five minutes as the initial recoil on your knee went away and you could properly step on your foot. You still couldn’t pick up the pace, but striding was possible and you kept the rhythm. Instead of meeting your friend at the little diner where you were supposed to have breakfast together, you met her at the entrance of Fukurodani. She had sustained a stony expression on you, trying to emphasize she was still not over you forgetting your plans together, but as soon as her eyes drifted down to your knee, she gasped.

“What happened?”

“My feet betrayed me,” you sighed. “It doesn’t hurt that much anymore.”

“We need to clean it, though. It looks bad.” Your friend suddenly stretched her hand to you, handing you a small paper bag. “Also, got you an egg sandwich.”

You simply raised your arms and dropped them around her in a thankful hug. You could really sit down, go silent for five minutes, and have some food. Tired of waiting, your friend grabbed your arm and you two went inside. You allowed your friend to scan the board where all the activities were written down so you two could finally try to make the fateful encounter happen. Your stomach grumbled, then. The smell of the egg sandwich was alluring and you decided to not wait anymore. While your friend searched for the basketball demonstration, you could start munching down on some breakfast. But life was not done with you yet. As you opened the paper bag, a sturdy body crashed lightly against yours, but with your knee in a weak state, it was all it took for you to lose your balance. With two clumsy steps forward, the paper bag slipped your hands and crashed on the floor. You watched as a stranger who had been mindlessly walking through the hallway kicked it.

That was it. You couldn’t take it anymore. Throwing any patience or manners out the window, you turned to see the guy who had crashed onto you. He was tall with short, messy black hair. He looked worried and was about to speak, but you didn’t let him.

“My egg sandwich, dude,” you snarled, and stomping your feet you went to get your food. You picked up the paper bag and looked inside, afraid of finding it in a complete mess. However, the sandwich had been perfectly wrapped up in aluminum paper. Maybe it would be a little mangled, but everything would be in place and ready for you to eat.

You stood up and found the same guy still staring at you with both eyes wide opened, his right hand lifted. You frowned at him, unfairly taking your anger in what was an obvious accident. As you stepped closer, meditating about apologizing for your attitude or not, you finally saw it. On his wrist, the words ‘my egg sandwich, dude’ were marked like a tattoo.

Your brain registered what that meant in a heartbeat. All the air in you slipped through your lips. The guy in front of you... the one with the same startled expression as yours was your soulmate… and you had forever marked his wrist with the stupidest phrase you had ever uttered in your entire life till that point.

Your soulmate. Right there. In front of you.

In a hurricane of uncomfortable emotions, you covered your face with both hands as a strong, overwhelming wave of heat struck your neck and it painfully crawled up to your ears and cheeks. Your whole face was beyond warm with embarrassment. You heard the steps of someone approaching you and you just knew it wasn’t your friend by the sensation of a tall presence looming over you. Your friend wasn't that tall. By then your friend had most probably taken notice of what was unfolding.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said, using what you could only describe as the gentlest voice you had heard. And he also smelled nice. It was a mix between mint and soap. Clean and soft.

You couldn’t cover your eyes till he got tired and left. You assume he wouldn’t. Well, if he did, it would be disappointing. Your soulmate couldn’t give up on you… and neither could you. It would be equally horrifying if you decided to ignore him to the point he decided to leave you alone. One couldn’t choose how they were going to meet their soulmate, and yours happened to be a tad unfortunate. Nothing to do about it anymore.

You slowly moved your hands away from your face and lifted your eyes as you felt a tingling on your own right wrist. You finally got a good look at him—he had thin features and was fondly smiling at you. Why wasn’t he annoyed even in the slightest? He would live with a horrible sentence on his skin forever.

You turned your eyes to your wrist, seeing the words ‘Pleasure to meet you’ on it. It was so nice and so polite. It was obvious he had picked his words carefully once realizing the situation, making sure the words meant to be on your skin forever were something good.

He had been cautions enough to say the perfect thing. 

“Uhm, I’m going to go ahead,” your friend said, a cheeky edge on her words. “Don’t leave without me, okay?”

“No, of course not!” you hurriedly assured her. “I’ll text you.”

She gave you a thumbs up and did as she said, leaving you alone with your soulmate—a soulmate you still didn’t know their name.

“Your knee is bleeding,” he said before you could ask for his name. “Let’s get that fixed. Follow me.”

You nodded, holding your stupid egg sandwich against your chest. Your hunger had dimmed but that paper bag was the only thing helping you find stability for the time being. Your legs wobbled with every step you took. You had never been one to feel confident about love—you had even stopped thinking when or how you would find your soulmate, afraid it would take your entire life to do so—and now everything was happening in the snap of a finger, in the quickness of a breath.

He signaled you to wait for him as he approached a table with two older ladies. He pointed at you and continued talking. You were right. He was incredibly polite. His stance didn’t shy away, but just by the way he stood and the tone he used, he was respectful. That was nice. Your mother would like him a lot. Your cheeks burned again at your thoughts. That had to be the next, right? You had to start dating. Or well, maybe you could know each other first. Was it possible to not like your soulmate? You had never thought about it. You felt the urge to take out your phone and quickly search for all those answers but by then, he was already coming back at you with a first-aid kit hanging from one of his hands.

“You can sit there,” he said, pointing at the benches lined up against the walls. Again, you could only nod and obey.

You thought you would sit down and he would maybe sit beside you and hand you what you needed for your knee. Instead, he placed the first-aid kit next to you and he knelt. You panicked, quickly muttering ‘no’ over and over again, motioning with your hands for him to stand up. He completely ignored you and got a gauze and rubbing alcohol, and proceeded to clean your scrape. You slightly hissed at the first touch and he apologized, which you found endearing. The wound was no way his fault and he was being beyond nice for getting on the ground and taking care of it. You could already see yourself gloating to others about the gentleman the universe had chosen for you.

In no time there was no more blood on your skin and you could see the scrape wasn’t as bad as the bleeding had made it seem. It would form a scab for sure, but nothing more.

“Thank you so much…” you said, lingering there for a minute. “I still don’t know your name.”

He smiled as he put the bottle of rubbing alcohol back into the box. “Akaashi Keiji. What’s yours?”

You told him yours and repeated his name a couple times in your head. Your eyes went back to his right wrist and a chuckle escaped you, still in disbelief. “I will have these nice words on me, but, I… I just ruined your wrist forever.”

He took a look himself at his own skin and brushed a thumb over it, pale skin stretching but the words not going anywhere. He smiled again. Or had the smile ever left his face? You couldn't tell.

“No, it will be a funny story to tell,” he calmly stated. You smiled back at him, allowing yourself for the first time to relax around him. 

Needless to say, that egg sandwich was left untouched and forgotten to the side.  

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡ Thanks for reading! ♡

[inmyicyworld]

Jersey

College! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected.

Words count: 3.2k

Warnings: established relationships, SMUT, unprotected sex (but they’re both safe and clean), dirty talk, sex in the locker room, a lot of pet names, Bucky is needy and caring, he’s deeply in love.

Author’s note: hey everyone! thank you for your feedback on my last posts, it means a lot to me. so this is my first smut, and I hope you’ll enjoy it. (I became creative with that photo of the red jersey because I couldn’t find a perfect picture, so I edited it for like half an hour😭)

I have many ideas for my future works, but you have something interesting in mind, feel free to write me about it. Maybe I get some inspiration and create something🩷🦋

*English is not my first language. Sorry if you find any mistakes*

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

It’s been another game for the "Avengers", where your boyfriend Bucky Barnes was a quarterback. Today was one of the most important games against "Hydra" – their biggest enemy. Obviously, you couldn't miss the game, and Natasha, your best friend and roommate, will be with you as always. And right now, she has convinced you to do something that has been on your mind for a long time.

"C’mon, It’ll be fun. He’ll like it, I promise!" She said as you two stood near the place that made custom t-shirts with any prints. And at this moment, Natasha wanted you to order a jersey with Bucky’s number and his name on it.

"I don’t know, Nat. I mean, I want to do it, but what if he thinks that it’s too much?" You nervously played with the hem of your skirt.

"Now stop it." She stood before you and put her hand on her hips like a mother who was scolding her child. "You’ve been dating for more than a year, and his guy loves you so fucking much that he can’t even tear his eyes from you every time you two are in the same room. So when I tell you that he’ll love it, I mean it." You silently looked at her for a few minutes, but when she questionably raised her eyebrow, you finally gave up.

"Fine, you won. I hate you."

"I love you too, baby." Nat chuckled and dragged you to the store.

It seemed like there were thousands of people because everyone wanted to see one of the most important games of the season. People were already taking their seats, but you and Nat went straight to the locker room to wish the guys good luck. Trainer Fury was very strict about this, and it was forbidden for people not from the team to go there, but for some reason Nat always found a way to solve this problem.

"Guys!" Natasha loudly knocked at the door. "Are all of you already dressed up? I’m not in the mood to see somebody’s ass today!"

"Come in!" You heard Thor’s loud voice.

"Oh, I see our support group is here." As soon as you two walked in, Sam ended up between you and Nat and threw his hands over your shoulders, leading you deeper into the room. "Barnes will be here soon; don’t worry."

"Okay. Are you guys ready to beat their asses?" You smiled and looked at the almost entire team that had come to see you and Nat.

"Don’t worry, Sweets, we’ll win, as always." Tony answered you while he was cleaning his helmet. "But you should tell your boyfriend to stay away from Rumlow, or else he’ll be suspended again. By the way, is that jersey with his name?" You quietly nodded as the whole team made an impressive ‘woo’ together.

"You two are disgustingly sweet, you know that?" Sam rolled his eyes, and at the same time, the door slammed. "It’s him; go give him some kisses for luck."

"Shut up, Samuel." You laughed and left their little circle to find Bucky looking at his phone. "Don’t you want to say hi, James?" He moved his eyes to you, and his face immediately lit up with happiness.

"I just wanted to text you." He threw his phone on the bench and came closer to wrap his arms around you. "Hi, doll. I missed you so much today." He mumbled into your neck.

"I missed you too, Buck." You smiled when your heart filled with all the love you had for that man. "But wait, I have to show you something." You slipped out of his hands, excited and nervous at the same time. "Look what I’ve got!" You happily turned around to show Bucky your back and flipped your hair to the side so he could see everything better. "Do you like it?"

You had a big red jersey on you, to which Bucky didn't even pay attention at first. But when you turned around, his mouth went dry and his whole body became fuzzy. You had his number 17 and the word "Barnes" on your back. You were wearing his name.

For a few seconds, he was silent. He didn't answer your answer either, so with confusion written on your face, you faced him again, only to see a weird look on his face.

"What? You don't like it? Should I take this off? I'm sorry…" You started to apologize, only to be interrupted by his low voice.

"Don't you dare take this off, Y/N." He suddenly came closer to you again, and the next thing you knew, your back was slapped against the metal lockers when Bucky’s lips attacked you. He kissed you passionately and deeply, pressing his body against yours as if he was desperate to touch you and feel you closer. You couldn’t hold back the quiet moan that escaped your mouth when he tilted your head with his hand, helping his tongue slip into your mouth.

You thought that you heard the screams of the boys on the other side of the room, but they were really muffled when your head was filled with the thought of your boyfriend’s soft lips and warm skin. Bucky finally broke the kiss, leaving you two catching your breath while he put his forehead on yours and closed his eyes.

"You don’t understand what you’re doing to me. You look so fucking hot in this jersey, I want to fuck you right now." He whispered so only you could hear. "You made me hard, doll." To prove his words, he pushed his hips a little bit closer to you so you could feel the hardness.

"‘M sorry; I didn’t know that you would react like that."

"Hey, Buck, we should already go." Bucky’s grip on your waist became only tighter, when he heard Steve’s voice, and he nuzzled into your neck.

"Give me a minute."

"The game is gonna start soon."

"I said, give me a minute, Steve!" He said it louder. Bucky deeply inhaled, and it was obvious that he just needed some time to calm down.

"Shh, it’s okay, James." You put your hands through his hair because you knew that it would instantly relax him. "You're gonna win this game, right? And without fights." 

"I’ll do everything for you. I just love you so much, doll." He whispered into your neck when his body finally relaxed and he was able to move away from you.

"I love you too, James." He quickly kissed you again before turning around to face the team, who had knowing smirks on their faces.

"You two should get a room." Sam had an annoyed look on his face.

"Don’t worry, Birdbrain, we will. Are you ready for the game, or are you gonna stand here and complain all day?" Bucky winked at you and went out of the room without waiting for the answer from Sam.

"So…" Natasha suddenly appeared near you. "Did you make The White Wolf hard by just wearing a shirt with his name on it?" She grinned, as it was her original plan that worked.

"Oh, shut up!"

The game was tough. Hydra played dirty as always, and Bucky almost got into a fight with Rumlow during the intense moment. You almost jumped out of the seat during the last few minutes of the game, and when "Avengers" finally won, you and Natsha screamed at the top of your lungs.

As soon as the team was done cheering and hugging, Bucky looked at the seat where you were supposed to be but saw only Nat, who pointed at you already standing near the rim. He ran to you with the biggest smile on his face, and when he finally reached you, he crushed his lips into yours.

You didn’t care that many people looked at you, even though you knew that some particular groups of girls would gossip about it for the next week because… well, everyone wanted your boyfriend. You just wrapped your hands around his sweaty neck and pulled him closer to you as far as you could with a fence between you two.

"I’m so proud of you, baby." You whispered into his lips. "You were amazing as always."

"Thank you, doll. I'm happy that you’re here with me." He looked into your eyes as his right thumb rubbed your cheek.

"You know I couldn’t miss your game, especially if it’s that important."

"Mhm, can you… come to the locker room in like twenty minutes?" Bucky nervously licked his lips.

"To the locker room? I thought we were going to celebrate it with the team as always."

"Maybe later, but I’m thinking of something, so come, ‘kay?" He started to go back to the field, but not before giving you another sweet kiss on the lips.

You sat in the cafeteria for about twenty minutes, passionately waiting for the appropriate time to go to the locker room because you really didn’t want to see another naked man that wasn’t your boyfriend. One such experience was enough for you. You asked Nat to come with you, but when you repeated Bucky’s words to her, she just gave you a mysterious smirk and patted you on the shoulder, saying that you better go there alone.

When you finally got there and knocked on the door, you heard only Bucky’s voice, who told you to come in.

"James? What’s going on?" You asked as you came further into the room. It was empty except for Bucky, who came out of nowhere and locked the door. "What are you doing?"

He didn’t answer you; he just crossed the room, kissed you, and pushed your back into the metal lockers, just as he did it a few hours ago. He was greedy, passionate, and a little bit too rough, so you couldn’t keep the moan from escaping your mouth. Bucky’s hands squeezed your hips and then went higher under your jersey.

"Bucky…" You pulled away from the kiss, but he took advantage of it and started kissing your neck. Your eyes rolled back as you squeezed his shoulders and completely forgot everything you wanted to say. He sucked your soft skin into his mouth and even bit you. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to leave dark marks on your neck, but, honestly, you didn’t care. He smelled too good fresh out of the shower, with his bare chest and low-rise gray sweatpants, and his mouth… God, you knew what his mouth could do. "Baby, we can’t do it here."

"We can, and we will." He left your neck and looked at you, leaving only a few inches between your faces. "You can’t imagine how hard it was for me not to bend you over the closest surface when you showed me that fucking shirt. With my name on it? So everyone could see that you’re mine?" Bucky licked his already swollen lips. You pressed your thighs together, feeling how wet you were. He definitely felt that motion because his eyes became darker, and he looked like he was going to devour you at that same place.

"James…" You quietly whimpered, not being able to hold yourself anymore.

"Baby, fuck– doll, I love it when you call me that. You drive me insane." He decided not to lose any more time, so his hands went straight to the button of your jeans. He helped you get out of them, not losing a chance to touch your bare legs. "Now turn around, baby." You heard a deep moan, probably when he saw the back of the shirt again.

"Bucky, please." You whispered when you felt that more juices came out of you. You loved when your boyfriend became needy and possessive.

"Look at you, doll. You're already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet." He said that when he put his hand over your pussy, he probably felt the heat and pulse. "I would’ve eaten you out, but I need you too fucking much, so I promise to do it when we get to my place."

"O-okay, just do something, please." You pushed your ass back and heard a loud, deep moan as soon as you touched Bucky’s hard cock through his pants. You put your hands behind your back to try to push down his clothes, and at the same time, Bucky removed your black thongs.

You felt his hard cock on the bare skin of your ass, the tip already leaking with pre-cum. Bucky squeezed your ass with his hands and moved his hips. His perfectly shaped cock grinded against your wet folds, and you couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping your throat.

"Please, don’t tease me–" You didn’t even finish the sentence when Bucky moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. The mixture of pain and pleasure washed over you, and you didn’t even realize that you moaned too loudly. He was too perfect, filling you completely and stretching you around him in the most delicious way.

"Sh-h, sweetheart, you don’t want other people to hear you, right?" One of Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt and laid on your stomach, and the other one covered your mouth, pulling you closer to his chest. "Good girl." He mumbled into your ear when you shook your head.

Bucky pulled away from you, still staying deep inside of your heat, letting you adjust to his size. He put one hand from your mouth on your back, which made you lean forward toward the lockers. The cold metal cooled your hot skin, but it still felt like you were burning inside.

Bucky finally started moving his hips, and the filling of his dick coming in and out of you made you almost faint. You two had sex a million times, but it still amazed you how full and satisfied he made you feel.

"That’s right, doll. You’re so greedy for my dick, huh?" He started to go faster, and you tried to move your body to his rhythm. "Was this your plan? Showing me that fucking jersey, so I could fuck you like a little slut you actually are?" His hand went over your back, tracing letters on your shirt with his fingers, and his motions became harder. In fact, it wasn’t your idea, but you should definitely thank Natasha because you really didn’t expect your boyfriend to become even more obsessed with you.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and you clenched around Bucky’s cock, making him moan. "I feel how you’re clenching ‘round me. I know that you like it when I call you my slut. Only mine." 

"Yes, Bucky– James, please." A sudden slap on your right cheek pulled another moan out of you, and Bucky just chuckled, knowing that you’re always loud with him.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum, please– James! I’m so close." You felt too overwhelmed with pleasure, not even realizing that you started crying when his fingers moved to your clit, drawing little circles there.

"Fuck, one day I’m gonna make you Mrs. Barnes, so you will have a well-damn reason to wear this shirt." He deeply chuckled, moving harder and harder into you. More nasty sounds of skin slapping into skin and your not-so-quiet moan filled the room. "Can you imagine that, baby? Being my cute little wife, who likes when I fuck the shit out of her? Poor doll, crying. Can’t even handle my cock deep inside your pussy, can’t you?" He moved even deeper into you, and that was it.

"God– James!" You slammed your hands on the metal near your face, trying to find something to hold onto, as the wave of heat and extreme pleasure covered your whole body and mind. Your legs trembled, and the only thing that kept you straight was Bucky’s strong hands. He felt that you were over the edge, that you couldn’t stand on your legs, and he definitely felt more juices coming out of you. He looked down and saw how his shiny cock was coming in and out of your pussy that was particularly choking him, and that sight threw him over the edge. With the last movement, he pulled your body into him, wrapping his hands around you and releasing his hot seed deep inside of you.

You both moaned at the feeling of you being so full of his cum that it had already started dripping down your thighs.

"That’s it, baby." Bucky whispered into your ear. "You did so well. Are you okay?" He left light kisses on your cheek.

It was too intense; not a single thought came to your head, and for a few seconds you tried to put yourself together.

"Mhm." It was the only thing that you were able to answer because your body was still trembling with the leftovers of your intense orgasm.

You two stayed in that position for a few minutes until Bucky realized that you had become too sleepy. He tried to pull out, but you grabbed his hand.

"‘M too sensitive." You almost cried.

"I know, sweetheart, but now I have to clean you and take you home." Bucky gently came out of you, and your body got goosebumps at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you. It took him all the strength not to shove it back into you with his fingers, but you were obviously too tired, and he couldn’t properly take care of you since you weren’t at his or your bedroom.

Bucky fell on his knees, quickly took a towel from his bag on the floor, and carefully cleaned the mess between your thighs. He reached for your panties, helped you put them back, leaving a soft kiss on your leg, and then helped you sit on the bench.

He looked at your sleepy and tired face while putting on his clothes.

"Hey, doll? You’re too quiet. Is everything okay? Was I too rough?"

"I’m ‘kay, it was just as intense as when you make me come many times in one night. Just help me with my jeans; I can’t feel my legs."

"Of course, sweetheart." He helped you with your pants and then fixed your messy hair. You couldn’t imagine how you must’ve looked right now. "I love you so much. Thank you for being here today. You’re truly the best thing that ever happened to me." Bucky kissed your forehead and wrapped his hands around your body, standing up with you.

"I love you too, Buck. So so much." You happily buried your face into his neck, knowing that your boyfriend was going to take care of everything.

He picked up his bag and keys for the locker room and came out of there. Bucky didn’t even close the door when he heard a familiar voice.

"Do not tell me that you two did what I think you did!" Sam was standing there a few steps away with disgust and shock on his face. "I didn’t expect that from you, Y/N/N." He joked.

"Sorry, Sam." You moved away from Bucky’s neck and tried to give Sam your best apologetic smile.

"Well, I’m not. Since you’re here, close the door, Birdbrain; we hurry."

Sam stood there for a few more moments after Bucky left with you in his arms.

He decided that the headphones that he left in the room could wait until another time.

[pablitogavii]

Hii it’s me! I was wondering if you could right a one shot where the reader gives her boyfriend(Pablo) silent treatment.

It really means a lot to me if you can write this.

(Your biggest supporter and fan<33)

Before the story, what the hell was that game against Getafe!? 🤡

Regrets

Pablo was on the plane back to Barcelona and you knew he was angry and frustrated especially after the lost penalty chance.

Pablo did have a temper but for a reason because he hated injustice and always wants to prove something wrong when he can. Unfortunately, that usually end with him getting a yellow card just like during today's match.

Luckily, the flight was only 1hr long so he was almost home. He texted you when he got to his car and you smiled still very excited to see your boy and hopefully make him feel better.

"Amor.." Pablo walked in and you heard him sound like her was out of breath which made you walk up to him with a worried face.

"Hola mi campeon..give me a besito!" you walk up to him going on your tip toes and kissing his lips while resting on his chest. He winced and you pulled away looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Que pasa cariño??" you say and he takes off his shirt showing you gauze on his chest which made your eyes widen and gently touch his wound. On the screen it didn't seem like he got this seriously hurt.

"Díos! Does it hurt you a lot cariño??" you ask and he takes your hand away while shaking his head walking towards the living room and plopping himself on the couch.

You went to your bag to grab some pain medication and a glass of cold water bringing it to him. You sat down besides him seeing that he was clearly in no mood but all you cared about is that he wasn't in pain.

"You should take the pill cariño..it'll help you" you say brushing his hair with your fingers gently and he just closed his eyes shaking his head 'no' per usual acting stubborn.

"Do it for my love cariño??" you move closer laying your head on his shoulder and he sighed taking it from the table clearly more annoyed.

"You're giving me a headache so now I need it!" he growled and you felt sad but decided to ignore it knowing that this was only because of the bad first game of the season. He does the same when you're moody on your period so it's fair.

"Do you want me to massage your head cariño?" you ask kindly but he kept avoiding your eyes searching his pockets for his phone.

"Can you just leave me alone?" he said and your face fell wishing there was something you could do to help him knowing that he doesn't actually want to be alone..you know him that much.

"What can I do Pablito?" you ask kissing his cheek and his jaw which was now clenching in anger.

"You're so annoying!" he growled immediately realizing what he said when he saw you sad face looking at him and your eyes filling with tears even though you didn't let them fall. He felt horrible..even worse than before..and when he tried to pull you closer you got up and left to the bedroom.

"Mierda Pablo! Eres un cabrón!" he said to himself while picking up his weight and walking to the bedroom where you were laying with a book in your hands.

"Amor.." he laid besides you but your eyes didn't move from the page you were trying to read for the past ten minutes but couldn't concentrate. He was so mean to you and you only tried to help!

"Lo siento muchisimo..por favor amor" he reached your your hand but you pulled away flipping the page pretending like you read it when the truth was you weren't even concentrating on the book.

"It was such an annoying game..they were hitting us non stop..and then we didn't get that penalty..but none of that matters! I shouldn't take my frustration out on you...I'm so sorry babygirl" he moved closer laying on your pillow with his lips leaving small kisses on your shoulder.

"You were only trying to help me..and I was such a cabrón. I am the annoying one..not you..por favor..just look at me" he said pouting and you sighed turning your face to the side to see him genuine regret.

"I didn't even tell you how beautiful you are when I got home..or how much I love you princesa" his hand was tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear while your cheeks were blushing. You were still silent though wanting him to know his behavior was unacceptable.

"Te amo muchisimo..please talk to me again" he moved even closer testing to see if you move away not wanting to invade your space. When you stayed still, he smiled starting to leave little kisses on your neck which made you relax in his arms.

Pablo was laying on your chest with his face nuzzled into your neck when you finally decided to stop torturing him and talk again.

"You were a cabrón..." you whisper and Pablo's head shot up as the smile grew on his face that you talked again. He didn't care what you said..and he wanted was to hear your voice again.

"I'm only your cabrón tho.." Pablo smirked and you raised your eyebrows expecting a proper apology and not jokes about his past behavior.

"I am really sorry amorcito..just give me some love please?" he said and you smiled now nodding your head and moving closer to lay on his chest away from his wound.

"I'm sorry about the penalty cariño.." you say softly caressing his wound while Pablo was relaxing and enjoying your touch now completely forgetting about the stupid game.

"Mm we'll get them next time princesa..just keep loving me?" he said looking down at you and you blushed nodding your head and moving a little to leave small kisses on his wounds.

"Sempre!" you smile looking up and him and he brings you close kissing your lips lovingly before kissing your forehead. You then cuddled up to each other enjoying a sweet night rest <3

[final-script]

Same Tastes | LS18

Pairing: Lance Stroll x Reader

Sumary: Apparently, Chloe and Lance Stroll like Australians, who practice Snowboarding.

Warnings: English is not my first language !!!, I know it may look awful, but I hope you like it.

Gif: ellalovesvettel

A/N: This could have a part 2, if you like, just let me know.

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

You met Scotty at your first Winter Olympics and practically from that moment I adopt you as his little sister, there was not much age difference between you, but he still did.

During the competition seasons, he let you know that he was there for you at all times and during the practices, he helped you perfect some techniques and you were happy about that since he was one of your role models.

And during the seasons when they weren't competing, at no point did they lose touch.

So much so that in one of the dines of F1 race weeks, taking advantage of the sponsorship invitations, I invite you to attend a GP together, in addition to also being able to introduce yourself to one of his best friends,his brother-in-law and clearly his fiancée , for the first time in person.

You were familiar with F1, so you were excited to attend a Grand Prix and experience it from another area.

(…)

S- Chloe is going to love you.

Y/N- I hope you like him so I can ask how he supports you.

Don't get me wrong, I love him, but I don't consider myself fit to withstand his body's level of inactivity.

S-hey, you love me and you know it!

Y/N- I don't deny it, but you limit my patience!.

(...)

When we entered and some cameras turned to see us, I really thought it was because of Scotty, because well… He was one of the best friends of one of the pilots and brother-in-law of another, shocked when several people said my name.

Very recently I started to have some recognition and let's say that it takes me a little getting used to.

S- the public loves you, I feel jealous!

Y/N- that I can say. Pushing it amicably.

I did sponsorship duties and then Scotty took me to meet his best friend, his brother-in-law and fiancée.

(…)

Meeting Daniel was exactly as I expected.

Just as outrageous and funny, as shown online.

Outrageous but very friendly.

It's time to meet Chloe and because of her exprecion, I have a new adoptive sister or who knows, maybe I'll become the daughter of a marriage.

Ch- Finally!!, a pleasure to meet you, you are very pretty.    I must admit that I blushed and thanks to her hug I hid it a little- I'm Chloe!

Y/N- I'm Y/N, nice to meet you too!. Accept the hug.

S- hey, I'm here too!

Ch- I just saw you, plus I must meet the person with whom you spend time away from me and who has not yet accosted you.

Y/N- thank God you mention it, a moment ago I said I would ask you the same thing, how do you stand it??, don't get me wrong, it's genius but…  I think that the part of the DNA that contained the iperactivity did not reach me.   Laugh.

Scotty wanted to stay serious but couldn't and joined us.

 X- it seems that there is a party to which I was not invited.

One of you behind us called our attention, when I turned, I confirmed who I was.

Lance Stroll, Scotty's brother-in-law and Chloe's brother.

I stepped aside to give them space, greeted them both, and then turned to see myself.

L- who do we have here?.

Y/N- I'm Y/N.   Shaking his hand.

L- I'm Lance.

S- my little sister in the snow.

L- I think now I understand Scotty's excitement to come today, we have heard many things about you.

Y/N- good things I hope?

S- of course, who do you take me for?      Hugging his girl.

L- then, I must forget the part where you tell me, which is not as good as you.

S-hey, it was supposed to be a secret.    Chloe and I couldn't stop laughing.

Y/N- between you and me, let him believe it's true.

(...)

Without you noticing, the couple next to you quietly watched your interaction and shared glances, silently planning a clear movement.

(...)

That movement that Scotty and Chloe never talked about in front of you but they thought about it, became a solid relationship, which at the time of the big wedding had a duration of a beautiful 12 months.

A year with one of the best people in the world. With a person who honestly at first I did not believe would work, but thank God I was not like that.

Concentrated on my sports career I had been quite denied in the themes of love, but Lance had made me detach a little from that, but without moving away completely.

The distance from time to time became difficult but for the moment we are being able to bear it.

And let's really hope it stays that way for a long time.

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

ANOTHERS

Take It Or Leave It… - Lando Norris X  Leclerc!Reader

Royal In The Paddock - Carlos Sainz Jr x PrincessOfSpain!Reader