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doctorbitchcrxft · 10 days

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Bloodlust | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, implied sexism/objectification

Word Count: 5023

Series Rewrite Masterlist

Dean was in the best mood you’d seen him in in a long time. He was grooving to his music as the Impala cruised along the highway; having finally fixed his baby. “Whoo! Listen to her purr! Have you ever heard anything so sweet?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know, if you two wanna get a room, just let me know, Dean.”

“Oh, don't listen to her, baby. She doesn't understand us.”

Sam laughed. “You're in a good mood.”

“Why shouldn't I be?” Dean questioned.

“No reason.”

“Got my car, got a case; things are looking up.”

You hummed. “Wow. Give you a couple severed heads and a pile of dead cows, and you’re little miss sunshine.”

He laughed. “How far to Red Lodge?”

Sam responded, “Uh, about another three hundred miles.”

“Good,” Dean smirked, flooring it.

***

The sheriff you and the brothers talked to obviously thought the three of you were insane when you questioned him about the decapitations and cow mutilations. He ordered you to get out of his office, to which you agreed.

Needing another plan, you and the brothers headed to the hospital in your respective suits and dress. You didn’t miss the way Dean’s eyes raked over your body as you made your way into the morgue.

“Decorum, please,” you teased, swishing your hips as you walked ahead of him.

Dean walked closely behind you and read the nametag of the unsuspecting intern sitting behind the desk. “John.”

“Jeff,” he corrected.

“Jeff. I know that,” Dean chuckled. “Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away.”

“But Dr. Dworkin's on vacation.”

“Well, he's back. And he's pissed, and he's screaming for you, man, so if I were you I would—” he clicked his tongue and jutted his thumb behind him.

The intern looked terrified and ran away.

“Hey, those satanists in Florida, they marked their victims, didn't they?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah, reversed pentacle on the forehead,” Sam responded.

“Yeah. So much fucked up crap happens in Florida.” He handed you and Sam pairs of latex gloves and tugged on a pair of his own.

You pulled out a metal bed with a woman’s corpse laying on it and a box between her legs.

“Alright, open it,” Dean told Sam.

“You open it,” Sam protested.

“You guys are pussies.” You grabbed the box and took the lid off, unfazed by the sight before you.

Dean cringed at the sight of the head, saying, “Well, no pentagram.”

“Wow. Poor girl,” Sam said.

“Maybe we should, uh, you know, look in her mouth, see if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat. Y'know, kinda like the moth in Silence of the Lambs.”

“Yeah, here, go ahead,” you smirked, spinning the box toward him.

“No, you go ahead,” he rebutted.

“What?”

“ ‘Put the lotion in the basket.’ “

You rolled your eyes. “Fine.” You pried her mouth open and looked down her throat.

“Dean, get me a bucket?” Sam grimaced. “I'm going to puke.”

You felt around her mouth a bit more and found strange grooves above her gumline. You pulled her lip up and pressed just above one of the holes, and a fang descended. “Oh, this fucking bitch.”

“She’s already dead, (Y/N), relax,” Dean told you.

“Well, this changes things,” noted Sam.

“Ya think?” you and Dean asked in unison.

***

You and the brothers decided to go for a few drinks after the discoveries you’d made and pick up the next morning. You immediately felt a man’s eyes on you and uncomfortably shifted in your seat. “You pickin’ up what I am?” you discreetly whispered to Dean.

“Yeah, definitely,” he responded lowly, sitting on a barstool. “How's it going?”

The bartender answered, “Living the dream. What can I get for you?”

“Three beers, please.”

Sam began, “So, we're looking for some people.”

“Sure. Hard to be lonely,” the bartender smirked.

“Yeah. But, um, that's not what I meant.” Sam pulled a fifty dollar bill from his pocket and dropped it in front of the bartender, who took it hesitantly. “Right. So these, these people, they would have moved here about six months ago, probably pretty rowdy, like to drink—”

“Yeah, real night owls, you know? Sleep all day, party all night,” Dean chimed in.

“Barker farm got leased out a couple months ago. Real winners. They've been in here a lot— drinkers. Noisy. I've had to 86 them once or twice.”

You and Dean thanked the bartender for his help and continued to nurse your beers. After a few minutes, you and the brothers continued to feel the man’s eyes on you. On high alert, all three of you moved for the door and noticed all that was left of the man was a smoldering cigarette in an ashtray.

You and the brothers walked out of the bar and past the Impala to lead the man who’d been stalking you away. You rounded a corner and jumped out of the way so the brothers could pin the man who’d followed you to the wall. Dean held a knife to the man’s throat and commanded, “Smile.”

“What?” the man asked.

“Show us those pearly whites.”

“Oh, for the love of— you want to stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire," he replied nonchalantly.

You frowned.

“Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there.” Even his voice was unsettling.

“What do you know about vampires?” you asked.

“How to kill them. Now seriously, bro. That knife's making me itch.”

Dean cocked his head and the man started to pull away. Sam pinned him down harder.

“Whoa. Easy there, Chachi,” the man said. He slowly brought his hand up to his lips and revealed normal gums. “See? Fangless. Happy?”

Dean let him up. “Now. Who the hell are you?”

"Gordon. Gordon Walker," he replied. "You?"

"I'm Dean. This is Sam; that's (Y/N)."

The man led you over to his car and pulled out an arsenal rack from behind his backseat. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I can't believe it. You know I met your old man once? Hell of a guy. Great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes. But from what I hear you guys fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot—”

Dean was on-guard. “You seem to know a lot about our family.”

“Word travels fast. You know how hunters talk,” the man explained.

“No, I don’t, actually,” you chimed in.

“You're a firecracker, aren't cha?” he asked. His somehow hauntingly melodic voice had you on edge.

You refused to respond.

“So, um, so those two vampires, they were yours, huh?” Sam jumped in.

“Yep. Been here two weeks.”

“Did you check out that Barker farm?” Dean questioned.

“It's a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though, they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone.” You almost laughed at Gordon’s comment.

“Where's the nest, then?” Dean asked.

“I got this one covered. Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meetin' you fellas. But I've been on this thing over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin; tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it.”

“We could help,” Dean suggested.

“Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy.”

Dean groaned, “Come on, man, I"ve been itching for a hunt.”

“Sorry. But hey, I hear there's a Chupacabra two states over. You go ahead and knock yourselves out.” He got down into his car and leaned out of the window. “It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side.” He drove off.

“He seems like a world-class douche,” you commented as you watched his retreating red car.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Sam snorted.

“C’mon.” Dean started off to his car.

“Where we goin’?”

“To find ourselves a fang.”

***

Dean followed Gordon’s distinctive red car to a warehouse where you deduced he’d tracked a vampire to.

You rushed up the labyrinth of ladders toward the sounds of a running mill saw and the two men struggling. When you arrived at the scene, you saw Gordon on the verge of getting his head taken off by the vampire and the saw. You and Sam each grabbed a boot and pulled Gordon away from the vampire’s impressive strength. Dean attacked the vampire and replaced Gordon with him, lowering the saw to the vampire’s throat. You watched in concern as blood sprayed across Dean’s face, and he seemed completely unreactive.

“So, uh, I guess I gotta buy you that drink,” Gordon chuckled awkwardly.

***

You agreed to meet Gordon back at the bar you’d met him at after you cleaned Dean up. Sam went into the bar with Gordon to get a round of drinks started. You took hydrogen peroxide out of the first aid kit in the car and began to wipe Dean’s face off with it.

“I can do this myself, y’know,” he mumbled.

“I do.” You let a silence settle between you before you spoke again. “What happened to you back there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Dean, you got fucking scary back there. I’ve never seen you like that,” you explained.

“I was just excited to get back to huntin’, (Y/N).”

“No, dude, I know you. You’re lethal but never… cold. You’re worrying me,” you admitted.

“Well, don’t, okay? I’m fine,” he said, lightly pushing you off him and taking the towel from you. He finished wiping himself off and began to walk inside. You were hurt but refused to let that show and followed him into the bar.

***

Rounds deep of Gordon and Dean swapping stories, you and Sam were exhausted of the talk of blood, guts, and gore. Gordon soon circled back to Dean’s kill of the evening. “Dean,” he laughed. “You gave that big-ass fang one hell of a haircut, my friend.”

“Thank you,” Dean grinned.

“That was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Was it, though?” you questioned, ignoring the way Dean’s gaze burned into the side of your head and keeping your eyes locked on Gordon.

“You all right, sweetheart?” Dean asked you.

“Fine,” you responded.

“Well, lighten up a little, sweetheart,” Gordon jested.

“He's the only one who gets to call me that,” you immediately stated firmly.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay. No offense meant. Just celebrating a little. Job well done.”

“Right. Well, decapitations aren't my idea of a good time, I guess,” Sam chimed in.

“Oh, come one, man, it's not like it was human. You've gotta have a little more fun with your job,” Gordon said simply.

"That's what it is, though," you broke in. "A job. I enjoy it, but bloodshed doesn't exactly get my rocks off." You kept your eyes locked on Gordon, who stared back.

Sam sighed and stood up. "Look, I'm not gonna bring you guys down. I'm just gonna go back to the motel. C’mon, (Y/N).”

“You sure?” Dean asked the two of you as you stood.

The two of you nodded wordlessly.

“Remind me to beat that buzzkill out of you two later, alright?” Dean joked, throwing Sam the keys.

You walked out angrily and didn’t say a word to Sam on the way back to the motel.

***

“I don’t like that guy,” you muttered to Sam as you paced around his and Dean’s motel room. “I really don’t like vampires, but I really don’t like that guy.”

“Yeah, me neither. I’m gonna call Ellen; see what she thinks.”

“Good idea.”

Sam raised the phone to his ear. “Hey, Ellen, uh, Sam Winchester… Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine. Got a question. You ever run across a guy named Gordon Walker?... And?... Well, we ran into him on a job and we're kinda working with him, I guess…” His face suddenly changed. “I— I thought you said he was a good hunter.”

You watched curiously as he listened to another thing she had to say before bidding the woman goodbye. “I’m guessing she told you he was bad news,” you said once he’d hung up.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Great.”

“Sam, I hate vamps more than probably anybody. But Dean was just… so… not Dean when he took the head off that one,” you said.

“I know. It’s buggin’ me, too,” he sighed. “I’m gonna go get a drink. You want one?”

“Just a water, please,” you replied.

Minutes went by, and Sam still hadn’t returned from the vending machine. You were beginning to get a little worried, but decided that maybe he just needed a second to himself. When ten minutes turned into fifteen, though, you really started to panic. You darted outside and looked over to the vending machine. Sam was nowhere to be found. You called Dean in a panic, saying, “Dean, Sam’s gone. I can’t find him anywhere.”

“What?! What the hell happened?!”

“I don’t know!” You ran a hand through your hair. “He just went to get a drink, and now he’s gone!”

“Well, maybe he just went for a walk,” Dean tried.

“No, Dean, he would’ve told me. What the hell is with you? Normally, you’d be flipping out by now.”

“Watch it, (Y/N). Hang tight. We’re on our way.” He hung up the phone.

‘We. Gordon. Fucking fantastic.’

***

When Dean and Gordon returned to the boys’ motel room, you clung to the back wall, feeling very uncomfortable around Gordon and Dean’s new attitude.

Gordon was discussing strategies on how to get Sam back with Dean— supposing the vampires you were hunting was behind this— when the man in question strolled through the door.

“Sam?!” you asked, pushing off the wall and running to him. You hugged him tightly around his neck. “Where the hell did you go?”

“Can I talk to you two alone?” he asked you and his brother.

“You mind chillin' out for a couple minutes?” Dean asked Gordon, who shook his head. You and the brothers exited the room and stood in the parking lot.

“Guys, maybe we've got to rethink this hunt.”

“What makes you say that, Sammy?” you asked.

“Where were you?” Dean questioned.

“In the nest.”

“What? You found it?” Dean questioned. Yours and his eyebrows shot up.

“They found me, man.”

“How'd you get out? How many'd you kill?” the older brother asked.

“None.”

“Well, Sam, they didn't just let you go.”

“That's exactly what they did.”

“No fucking way,” you said. “I know vamps, they wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, how do you explain the fact that I’m not dead, (Y/N)?”

You shrugged. “Good point. But what the hell, man?”

“Where is it?” Dean asked.

“I was blindfolded. I don't know.”

“Well, you've got to know something,” the older brother pressed.

Sam huffed. “We went over that bridge outside of town, but guys, listen. Maybe we shouldn't go after them.”

“Why not?” you and Dean asked.

“I don't think they're like other vampires. I don't think they're killing people.”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “You're joking. Then how do they stay alive? Or undead, or whatever the hell they are.”

“The cattle mutilations. They said they live off of animal blood.”

“And you believed them?”

“Look at me, Dean. They let me go without a scratch.” Sam held his arms out to either side of himself, encouraging you and Dean to examine him.

“Wait, so you're saying—” Dean cut himself off. “No, man, no way. I don't know why they let you go. I don't really care. We find 'em, we waste 'em.”

“Why?” Sam huffed.

“What part of 'vampires' don't you understand, Sam? If it's supernatural, we kill it, end of story. That's our job.”

“No, Dean, that is not our job. Our job is hunting evil. And if these things aren't killing people, they're not evil!” the brunet argued.

“Of course they're killing people, that's what they do. They're all the same, Sam. They're not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of them.”

“Dean, I’m with Sam on this one,” you finally said.

“Really, (Y/N)? You?” he looked at you stunned.

“Yeah, dude. I trust Sam. I hate vampires more than the next person. But I just don’t feel good about this hunt all around. I say we leave these vampires and Gordon in our dust,” you responded.

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Dean scoffed. “Gordon?”

“Why are you so defensive of him?” you questioned, voicing rising slightly.

“Because he’s been going after these things for a year, (Y/N), I think he knows,” he said.

“Sam called Ellen. She says he’s bad news.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

Dean looked at his brother. “You called Ellen?”

Sam nodded.

“And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her, (Y/N). No thanks, I'll go with Gordon.”

“Right. ‘Cause Gordon’s such an old friend,” you scowled. “You think I can’t see what this is?”

“What are you talking about?” Dean grunted.

“He's a substitute for your dad, isn't he? A poor one.”

“Shut up, (Y/N).”

“Hey! Don’t talk to me like that.” You stepped closer to Dean, face set angrily.

Dean wasn’t backing off. “Then don’t talk to me like that.”

The two of you were in each other’s faces, angrily staring each other down.

“You know what? I'm not even going to talk about this,” Dean grumbled, turning away from you.

“I know exactly what you’re doing, Dean. I can see right through you. I know how you feel. I lost my dad, too. But nobody can replace him. That hole you’re feeling hurts; I know. But this isn’t what’s gonna fix it.”

He snorted humorlessly. “Okay.” He walked away from you and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He turned to his brother. “I'm going to that nest. You don't want to tell me where it is, fine. I'll find it myself.”

You followed him back into his motel room. “We are not done with this conversation.”

Dean went to respond to you but noticed Gordon was gone before he could.

“You think he went after them?” Sam asked.

“Probably,” you said. “Dean, we have to stop him.”

“Really, (Y/N)? Because I say we lend a hand.”

Sam chimed in, “Just give me the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe me that.”

“Yeah, we'll see. I'll drive. Give me the keys.”

Sam gestured to the table where he’d set the keys earlier, but they were gone. “He snaked the keys.”

“Fucking awesome,” you grumbled, eyeing Dean angrily for his trust in Gordon.

Dean then had to hotwire his own car, cursing under his breath about how he’d “just fixed her.” “So the bridge, is that, uh, is that all you got?” Dean asked his brother as the three of you began to speed off.

“The bridge was four and a half minutes from their farm,” Sam explained.

“How do you know?” you asked.

“I counted.”

You smiled. This was another one of those moments where he reminded you a lot of Steven; he would've done the same thing.

The younger brother continued, “They took a left out of the farm, then turned right onto a dirt road, followed that for two minutes slightly up a hill, then took another quick right, and we hit the bridge.”

***

A while later, you and the brothers arrived at the farmhouse the vampires had been holing up in. You found Gordon circling a tied-up vampiress covered in scratches and her own blood.

“Guys. Come on in,” Gordon grinned at you.

“You’re fucking sick,” you growled, eyeing him dangerously.

“You wanna get a handle on your girlfriend there, pal?” Gordon said to Dean.

Dean ignored his comment. “What's going on?”

“Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood. She's going to tell us where all her little friends are, aren't you? Wanna help?”

Dean sighed. “Look, man—”

“Grab a knife. I was just about to start in on the fingers.” Gordon dragged his knife across her arm, cutting her deeply.

“Stop it!” you ordered.

“Hey, let's all just chill out, huh?” Dean said simultaneously.

“I’m completely chill,” Gordon responded coolly.

“Gordon, put the knife down,” Sam quietly pleaded. He went to step toward Gordon, but Dean held him back.

“Sounds like it's Sam here needs to chill,” Gordon scoffed.

“Just step away from her, alright?” you tried.

“You're right. I'm wasting my time here. This bitch will never talk. Might as well put her out of her misery.” Gordon pulled out a larger knife. “I just sharpened it, so it's completely humane.”

You stepped to block Gordon from reaching the vampire. “Gordon, I'm letting her go.”

Gordon pointed the knife at your chest, stopping you. “You're not doing a damn thing.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Gordon, let's talk about this,” Dean broke in, concern rising in his voice.

“What's there to talk about? It's like I said, Dean. No shades of gray.”

“Yeah. I hear ya. And I know how you feel.”

“Do you?” He turned to Dean, but kept the knife trained on your chest.

“That vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but this one—”

Gordon laughed. “Killed my sister? That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So I hunted her down, and I killed her myself.”

Dean’s awkward smile wavered. “You did what?”

“It wasn't my sister anymore; it wasn't human. I didn't blink. And neither would you.”

“Gordon, I had to do the same thing to my parents,” you said. “But my parents were trying to eat me. I think that’s a bit of a different circumstance than these guys who are just eating a few cows.”

“Then you should understand why I have to do this.” He pushed the tip of his knife into your chest, trying to get you to back up. You hissed in pain.

Dean immediately drew his gun and pointed it at Gordon. “Cut it out.”

“So you knew all along, then?” Sam continued provoking the hunter. “You knew about the vampires, you knew they weren't killing anyone. You knew about the cattle. And you just didn't care.”

Gordon chuckled. “Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Taking a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we're supposed to buy that? Trust me. Doesn't change what they are. And I can prove it.” With no warning, he grabbed your arm and sliced it open. You yelped as he held your arm out with one hand and held the knife to your throat with the other. He shoved you toward the vampire tied up in her chair.

Dean cocked the gun and demanded, “Let her go. Now!”

“Relax. If I wanted to kill her, she'd already be on the floor. Just making a little point.”

“Oh, you motherfucker—” he held your arm over the vampire while you struggled, causing blood to drip on her face. She hissed, and her fangs extended.

“Let me go!”

“You think she's so different? Still want to save her? Look at her. They're all the same. Evil, bloodthirsty.”

The vampire controlled herself, though, retracting her fangs and turning her face away. You softened at the sight as Dean continued to try and intimidate Gordon.

“You hear her, Gordon?” Sam said.

The vampire was stringing together a chant of “No” over and over again, trying to control herself.

You kicked Gordon between the legs and worked your way out of his grasp when the knife moved away from your neck. “We're done here.”

“Sam, get her out of here,” Dean told his brother.

He did as told, and when Gordon tried to step toward him, Dean caught his attention with the gun. “Uh-uh. Uh-uh! Gordon, I think you and I've got some things to talk about.”

“Get out of my way,” Gordon told you and Dean, who both had guns trained on him.

“Sorry,” Dean murmured.

“You're not serious,” the man scoffed.

“I'm having a hard time believing it too, but I know what I saw. If you want those vampires, you gotta go through me.”

Gordon nodded, considering. He looked down at his knife and jammed it into the table. “Fine.”

Dean looked at the knife and then his gun. He pulled the clip out of his Taurus and set it aside.

“Dean, what are you doing?” you asked.

“Trust me on this one.”

You kept your gun trained on Gordon as he lunged at Dean. You couldn’t get a clear shot as the two of them rumbled around. You couldn’t lie, they were pretty evenly matched in hand-to-hand combat. Gordon grabbed his knife again and held it to Dean’s throat. “What are you doing, man? You doing this for a fang? Come on, Dean, we're on the same side here.”

“I don't think so, you sadistic bastard.”

Gordon threw Dean across the room.

“Hey!” you said, cocking your gun. “Back off!”

“Stay out of this, sweetie,” Gordon told you before turning back to Dean. “You're not like your brother. You're a killer. Like me.”

Dean kicked Gordon down and hauled him up against the wall before elbowing him between the eyes. He pinned him under his elbow and slammed his head into another wall. “Oh, sorry.”

You chuckled despite the situation as you and Dean began to tie Gordon up.

“You know, I might be like you, and I might not. But you're the one tied up right now,” Dean monotoned down at Gordon. He turned to you when he seemed to come back to reality. “Are you okay?” He put his hands on either side of your face and tucked your hair behind your ear.

You nodded. “Fine.”

He grabbed your arm gently and looked over the cut Gordon had given you. Dean sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I’m gonna take care of that.”

“Dean, you don’t have to—”

“Yeah, I do.” He took a deep breath. “You were right.”

You gave him a lopsided smile. “I know.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to have a moment with you here,” he smirked.

You just smiled and looked down to the floor. “I know. Thank you.”

Sam came back into the room. “Did I miss anything?” he asked, noting Gordon tied up.

Dean shook his head. “Nah, not much. She get out okay?”

“Yeah. All of 'em did.”

Gordon groaned as he came back to.

“Then I guess our work here is done. How you doin', Gordy? Gotta tinkle yet?” Dean snarked, making you giggle.

Gordon just glared at him.

“Alright. Well, get comfy. We'll call someone in two or three days; have them come out, untie you.” He jammed Gordon’s knife into the table behind him.

“Ready to go, Dean?” Sam asked.

“Not yet. I guess this is goodbye. Well, it's been real.” He hit Gordon straight across the jaw, knocking him to the floor. “Okay. I'm good now. We can go.”

As you exited the farmhouse, you grabbed at your arm that suddenly began to sting.

“I wish we never took this job. It's jacked everything up,” Dean lamented.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives. What if we killed things that didn't deserve killing? You know? I mean, the way Dad raised us—” Dean trailed off and shook his head.

The younger brother’s expression softened. “Dean, after what happened to Mom, Dad did the best he could.”

“I know he did. But the man wasn't perfect. And the way he raised us, to hate those things; and man, I hate 'em. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill, I didn't even think about it; hell, I even enjoyed it.”

“You didn’t kill that girl, though,” you pointed out.

“No, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill 'em all.”

“Yeah, Dean, but you didn't. And that's what matters,” Sam reminded him softly.

“Yeah. Well, 'cause you two are a pain in my ass,” Dean grunted.

“Guess we might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass, then,” the brunet smirked.

“Thanks,” Dean said honestly.

“Don’t mention it.”

***

You returned to the motel to quickly shower off and gather your things. Dean followed you to your room and looked down at your arm. “Gimme that,” he said.

“What? My arm?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“This is our thing now, I guess, huh?�� you asked as he pulled a chair up to where you sat on your bed, using your first aid kid to clean your wounds.

“Oh, god, don’t try and make this cute,” he groaned.

“Well, it is!” you protested. “I like how much you care.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, and you began to work on Dean’s wounds he’d sustained from Gordon.

“(Y/N), I—” he began, “I was a complete asshole back there. I just… it’s what I told Sam, I mean, this changes everything for me.”

“I get it,” you nodded. “Me, too. You know I fucking hate vampires, and I wanted to smoke every last one of them. But I don’t know. I’m starting to see the humanity in ‘em, I guess.”

“‘S funny. Humanity in monsters.”

“I know,” you giggled. “Sounds stupid saying it out loud. But think about it. That chick reacted the way any regular person does with severe addiction. Just makes you think, y’know? Maybe they’re more like us than we ever thought.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Don’t get all philosophical on me; I can’t keep up when you do.”

“Yeah, but you love it, though,” you teased.

“I do, actually,” he said, much to your surprise. “You’re so smart, it scares me sometimes.”

“Whoa, look at you and your compliments,” you joked, grinning.

“What?" he chuckled.

“Normally I'm the touchy-feely one,” you answered, giggling. “But thank you. It means a lot coming from you.” You finished wrapping a bandage around his knuckles. “There.”

He flexed them painfully in your upturned palm before playing with your hand in his. You looked up at him, breath hitching in your throat. “Dee, if you’re not ready—”

“(Y/N),” he said, leaning in to you. You surged forward and connected his lips with yours.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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whorekneecentral · 7 months

Text

Ho Ho Hoe

Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Warnings: last minute packing, some friendly teasing, christmas related underwear, cheesy pick up lines sorta, oliver takes the blame, christian is just as cheesy, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving),dom!chris for a second, face sitting, praise kink from chris's end.

Word Count: 2,033

Author's Note: when I was plotting these out, pookie said this one suited chris and I couldn't agree more. he's so dorky, it fits him to a t lmao

merry smutmas series

You find a pair of Christmas boxers in Christian’s suitcase and decide to tease him about it.

The Pulisic family had been celebrating the holidays in Florida every year and this year you'd be joining them.

You are an instant shoo in from the moment you began dating Christian five years ago. Both his sister and his mother saw how quickly you adapted to their family and to their traditions, which is something that they really, truly loved about you. Along the way, you sprinkled in a few of your old little traditions that you did with your family.

Last year, you and Christian had spent the holidays with your family. The two of you rotate every year between the holidays, that way the families don't feel you're picking one over the other.

You were on the floor of your bedroom as you tried to re-pack the suitcase that Christian had 'packed', but really just tossed everything into. You'd be flying from Milan to Florida in 3 days so you were trying to get as much as you could done.

He was on his way home from training, his phone in the little holder as he called you.

"You're the fucking worst at packing," you start the moment you answer the phone. Christian laughs, "hello to you too, sweetheart. Why am I getting yelled at?"

You huff, the phone was on speaker and rested on your thigh as you refolded the clothes. "I have to repack the suitcase, not like you even packed it to begin with."

"I did too! I put everything in!"

"Yeah, just tossed it in. How are you meant to find anything or even fit everything in like this?"

You can already tell he's rolling his eyes. "Anyways," he starts, "did you eat? shall I pick up dinner?"

"Yeah, please." You smiled, folding the boxers you found and put them in a nice pile. You listened to your boyfriend rattle on the diner options when you fished out the bright green boxers with candy canes on it from the suitcase.

It struck you as odd, Christian wasn't one for bright colours; he stuck to the usual colours of navy blue, black and grey.

"Yeah sure, pasta's fine." You tell him, setting the boxers to the side. "See you in a bit."

You continue to repack the suitcase, folding the clothes neatly and tightly to fit as much as you can into the suitcase. It was maybe half an hour later when the front door opens and you hear your boyfriend shouting for you.

"In the bedroom!" You shouted back.

Christian smiles at you when he finds you, "hi beautiful."

"Hello you, how was training?"

"Good, tiring." He says, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at you on the floor. "How's the packing going?"

"Good, tiring." You tell him, "I didn't know you were a fan of bright colours though."

Christian raises an eyebrow, looking at you a bit confused. "What are you talking about?"

You hold up the bright green boxers with candy canes on it, "where'd you get these?" You asked, giggling. Christian's face goes bright red, his cheeks and the tips of his ears as red as a McIntosh apple.

"I.. I bought them as a joke. Oliver said he bought a pair last year and his wife loved them."

"So now you're getting sex advice from Oliver?"

"What?! No!"

You laughed, your boyfriend's face still as red as it was before, maybe never more. "Well, they made me laugh."

Chris smiles, "did you see what they say?"

You looked closer at the boxers, between the candy canes says 'suck me like a candy cane.' You think you laughed so hard you snorted, Christian smiles at your reaction.

"You're so unserious." You tossed the boxers at him, making him laugh. Christian kisses the top of your head, dropping the boxers on the bed. "Dinner's on the table, I'm gonna take a shower."

Holding onto Christian's legs, you pull yourself up. "You're not hungry?"

"I'll eat later, go on before it gets cold." Your boyfriend kisses you softly and lets you go.

Dinner was eaten quietly, christian taking his sweet time into the shower before joining you nearly an hour later, shirtless and sweatpants handing off his hips.

Thumb pushing against your teeth, you hummed as you watched him plop himself down on the couch next to you.

"What?" He asks, arm stretched over the backrest of the couch.

"Nothing," you smiled, scooting closer to your boyfriend.

Your head rested on his chest, the two of you watching the cheesy holiday movie you had put on. An arm stretched over his abs, fingers delicately tracing over the indented lines along his skin, moving over to his forearm. His tiger tattoo has always been one of your favourites, your nail pressing into the ink as you moved from one detail to the other.

Christian notices your hand, not thinking much of it; this was a normal thing for you two, your hands were always on him. It wasn't until he felt your hand move from his arm to his hip, fingers creeping closer to the hem of his sweatpants that he stopped you.

"Don't even think about it." His hand catches you, hand wrapped around your wrist.

You huffed. "Why not?"

"I'm trying to watch the movie."

"They all end the same way, a kiss in the snow." You tell him and Christian rolls his eyes, "way to ruin it for me."

You press your lips together, biting back a laugh. Christian lets go to your hand, letting it rest over his lap. That was his mistake. Your hands wander, as they always do, rubbing along his thigh and up to the bulge in his pants.

As much as he tries to ignore you, he can't. Christian's head tips back into the couch, a soft groan slipping past his lips.

"What happened to don't even think about it?" You teased, moving to sit between his legs. Christian rolls his eyes, dropping a pillow onto the floor for you.

He mumbles, telling you to shut up as you reach for the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down. The last thing you were expecting to come face to face with was bright green boxers with candy canes on them.

"You're fucking joking," you laughed, looking up at him. "They were already on the bed, babe. What was I supposed to do?"

"Get a pair from the drawer?" You suggested, laughing at him. "I cannot take you seriously."

Christian takes matters into his own hands, taking them off and tossing it behind him somewhere. "Okay gone now, c'mon."

"You're so demanding," you laughed.

He nods, giving you a tight lipped smile watching as you lean forward with your mouth open, tongue out and Christian bites back a groan; doesn’t matter how many times he sees you like that, you look perfect every time.

No matter how much he tries, he can’t pull his eyes away from you. His head tilting back at the feeling of your mouth on him, your hand wrapped around what can’t fit.

Your tongue swirled around the tip, hand slowing up and down the length of his cock in the meantime.

Chris's hand tangles in your hair, holding it away from your face as you take all of him in your mouth. He sighs, a string of explicits slipping past his lips.

You glance up at him through your lashes and that was enough to make him cum but he held off, because he knew you’d tease him if he did even if you did tell him it was okay.

“Made just for me, weren't you?” He mumbles, his hand rests on your jaw. His hand turns over and you feel his knuckles brush along your cheek. “Like being on your knees for me, hm? Good girl.”

The praise hits you straight in the core, only making you go faster.

Your cheeks hollow as you bob your head up and down. Christian's hips buck, your nose brushing against him.

He tugs on your hair a little, taking control of your movements before pushing you down all the way, only stopping until he hears you gag slightly. His head falls back against the cushions, your name along with a few other words tumble out as you glance up at your boyfriend once more.

You can feel his cum on your tongue before you pull off of him with a pop.

Still on your knees, your eyes are on the man as he takes a few breaths. His hand caresses your jaw for a few moments before he pulls you up and onto his lap.

"I love you, you know that?" He whispers, nose pressed into your temple. You hum, "you've gotta get rid of those."

"What?" He asks, looking at you.

You point to the green boxers that were on the floor. Christian laughs, "yeah okay, babe. Whatever you say."

Your boyfriend falls flat against the couch, laying down and you look at him a bit confused, "was it that good? Got you exhausted now?"

Christian rolls his eyes playfully, pulling you to lay flat against him. He looks at you, there's a glint in his eyes, something you only saw when he was up to something.

"What?"

"Sit on my face."

Your eyes widen, sitting up on his lap. "What?"

His brows furrow, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you as he's unsure what the confusion was about. "Did you not hear me?" He asks, "I said sit on my face."

"What? Why ?"

"I'm returning the favour, now come on."

Christian lays back and you’re still on his lap. “Come on then,” he smacks the back of your thigh lightly. “Come sit.”

You find yourself wiggling out of your shorts as you move back to sit on his face. Thighs on either side of his head, you weren't fully on his face but his hands grip the back of your thighs, pulling you further down.

“I told you sit so fucking sit.” He mumbles from under you.

His large hands rested on the back of your thigh, pulling you down flat against his face, his tongue pressed against your slit.

Your body rocks, leaning forwards and your fingers tangle in his short, curly hair.

Christian's tongue curled upwards, brushing against your clit and you tug on his hair, something incoherent meets his ears - partly because he was focused on what he was doing but also because your thighs were squishing his face.

"Chris," you mumbled, your chest heaving while you tug on his hair to get him to do that again. "Do that- yeah fuck."

His tongue doing figure eights over your clit.

The grip on your thighs would leave marks as would the stubble coming on along his jaw that was scratching at the inside of your thighs. He rocked you a bit, his nose brushing against your clit, his tongue moving down to lap over your cunt.

He glances up, his eyes fixed on your hand on your tit, head tossed back and mouth open. His name slips past your lips like a prayer.

“You're so beautiful,” he mumbles against you, nose brushing at your clit as you grind down on his face again.

Your legs shake for a moment, your grinding halts as you cum on his tongue. Christian's hands hold you in place, his tongue still lapping over your clit and his lips replace them a moment later.

He lets you shift off his face in your own time, laying down on his chest. Your chin rests on his chest as you look up at him, your fingers dragging across his lips. He smiles, letting you slip your finger into his mouth, biting it softly before you pull it away.

His hand resting on your lower back as you reach up to kiss him.

You can taste yourself on his lips and your hand on his jaw, rubbing along the stubble in his jaw. "See if I had bought these boxers, you wouldn't have gotten all that."

"Untrue, you can't keep your hands off of me." You reminded him, the man's cheeks now red and he laughs. "Yeah, you're right." He whispers, kissing you.

---

taglist: @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

#merry smutmas xoxo #christian pulisic #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic x reader #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football smut

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sorchathered · 5 months

Text

Sacred New Beginnings (part 1)

This is a story over the weekend of Mav and Penny’s wedding, you and Bradley had been engaged and it had all gone to shit, with you back in town for the impending nuptials will you find your way back to each other? Or will you realize you were meant to be with someone else all along?

Pairing(s)- Bradley Bradshaw x reader, Jake Seresin x reader

Warnings- drinking, language, mentions of cheating, eventual smut. 18+

Song inspo- I bet you think about me- ts, the story of us- ts, Cornelia street- ts (yes I’m very taylor coded with this series lmao)

You’d begged Jake to keep it to himself, at least until you could get your bearings in North Island and talk to Bradley yourself. It had been 6 months since the two of you split, he’d put his mother’s ring on your finger and promised you a lifetime but it certainly didn’t turn out like either of you planned, crashing and burning before you ever got a chance to say I do. Now you were back in San Diego at the request of Maverick and Penny for their long awaited nuptials and no matter where you looked all you saw was Bradley Bradshaw.

Jake Seresin was your former front seater, the two of you flew a handful of missions together when you’d been stationed here before, you trusted each other in a way most people didn’t, going through countless near death situations will do that to someone. As you stepped out of the airport into the cool night air you could see him leaning against his ridiculous fully kitted Ford F-150, you could take the man out of Texas but he’d be a cowboy no matter where he went.

“There she is! Stormy girl you are a sight for sore eyes!” He scoops you up in a big bear hug and you finally feel yourself relax, tension melting away just being able to be with your best friend like this.

“Hey douchebag, missed you so much” you say punching his shoulder and letting him lead you into the truck, peeling out of the lot and onto the dark highway.

There’s just something about him that calms you down, everyone gets the big bad Hangman persona and while you’ve witnessed it more times than you can count he’s never once treated you that way. Being around him now feels like home and you need that more than ever knowing the heartache that’s bound to seep into what should be a fairytale weekend. You wring your hands nervously, you know you need to ask but you don’t want to pop the happy bubble you both are in. Time to rip off the bandaid.

“So please tell me you kept your damn mouth shut Jakey, last thing I want to do this weekend is cause a scene. Just want to watch Mav and Penny say I do and head back to Florida with no casualties.”

He frowns at you from across the console, mussing your hair with his hand, he loves having you back here, nothing has felt quite the same without you in his daily life. He knew you’d want to know about he who must not be named (yes Jake considers Bradley to be the Voldemort in your story, no he won’t apologize for it) but he had hoped you’d give yourself some time to adapt first.

“I promise darling, haven’t said a word, hand to God. We will make this weekend a blast and send you on back without a hitch, so long as ol’ Rooster keeps his nose clean we shouldn’t have an issue.”

Just hearing his name causes your heart to lurch, you’ve done so good about avoiding him; blocking his socials and refusing to stalk any of the daggers insta’s for pictures of your former lover.

“How is he?” You say quietly, inspecting your hands in your lap now, refusing to look up for fear that Jake will see your tells; he always does though.

He looks at you with furrowed brows, he wasn’t ready to break your heart again, so he rattled off a bare bones list of info you were looking for, not willing to succumb to the rumors floating around that would only rile you up. The last thing you needed was to spend the weekend drowning in what went wrong and what could have been.

“Recently got promoted to lieutenant commander, got a dog a few weeks ago, no I don’t know if he’s dating anyone and no I wouldn’t tell you if I did. We aren’t doing this to ourselves you hear me? You didn’t do anything wrong and self preservation isn’t a bad thing. Now you must be starving so let’s go get you some In and Out to celebrate my favorite girl being back home.”

Across town in a little craftsman style house by the beach, Bradley Bradshaw is pacing his halls. Mav asked him to be best man and he’s determined to make this speech perfect, but every time he tries to sit down and write out the words describing true love and destiny all he can think of is you. The two of you had been so happy, but then he *had* to go and fuck everything up. He knew you were the one from the minute he met you; all sharp tongue and attitude, truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. It wasn’t easy to get you to come around, you’d made it a rule not to date in your squad but somehow he had broken down your walls, when a particularly dangerous mission left him with substantial injuries you’d been paralyzed with fear. If he was just a friend like you claimed then why did it feel like your heart would explode if you never saw him again? The two of you danced around each others feelings for weeks after until one night of partying at Phoenix and Coyote’s you’d kissed him.

A year later he was standing on the beach with roses and Carole Bradshaw’s wedding ring asking you to be his forever, you’d said yes before he could even finish talking; fully confident in the choice you were making. Standing in his house now, no wife and no family he couldn’t help the tears that spilled down his face, regret flooding his senses at how he’d let it all fall apart.

He let his hubris get the best of him, he was the best at what he did, always making sure he went the extra mile to prove himself; constantly fighting living in Goose and Maverick’s shadow. So when a mission came up and you and Jake had been chosen, he’d felt deflated; why hadn’t he been picked? What made Jake the better pilot? What made you more qualified? He went to higher ups to plead his case, never once thinking about the aftermath and how his choices in this would affect you. Needless to say it ended badly, you and Jake being grounded and Bradley flying the mission, someone had let it slip at the bar one night that he’d intervened, costing you an important promotion opportunity and choosing his career over you.

You’d felt betrayed, how could you trust him to be your life partner if he couldn’t even support you in your career? You’d requested an immediate transfer, packed your things and left the ring in your shared home, a note briefly explaining your reasoning and that you’d never wanted it to end this way. He had ruined everything, tried to convince Jake to give him your new number but Hangman could be ruthless when he wanted to be. Refused to help in any way and made sure Bradley knew that he’d been the getaway car, he would always choose you and your happiness unlike Bradley who’d chosen career over love.

Bradley hated him, but he knew he couldn’t fault him for his decision. If he’d just given that level of care when it counted he’d probably still have you, instead of an empty house and a head full of what ifs. He’d been a terrible fiancé, sure he’d doted on you and always told everyone you were his everything, but he also loved attention. So he’d let girls at the bar flirt sometimes, make excuses that it was just his personality and that he didn’t mean anything by it because of course you were the only one for him. But he’d dulled your shine to lift himself up far too many times and he knew deep down he didn’t deserve a second chance. Giving up on his speech for the night he poured another scotch and made his way to bed, there was no mental preparation on earth that would make any of this easier.

Friday morning came bright and early, you stumbled your way through Jake’s apartment letting the smell of coffee carry you to the kitchen. He’d left a post it on the carafe, telling you to be ready by 6 for drinks at the hard deck and you laughed, some things truly did stay the same. Six pm rolled around all too soon and you were dressed in your favorite sundress, hair and makeup set to perfection and Jake pulled the two of you into the lot of the beloved navy bar. Pulling you from your thoughts he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“If you start feeling uncomfortable you just say the word and we’re out, no muss no fuss. Just relax and enjoy tonight with our friends.”

You smiled up at him, grateful that he always seemed to know what you needed to hear.

“Come on Tex let’s get in there and celebrate our friends.”

The bar was closed to only friends and family tonight, everyone near and dear to the happy couple congregating for their rehearsal dinner. Stepping inside it was like being transported back to the past; sounds, smells, everything was the same as it had been when you left. Jake goes in ahead of you, keeping an eye out for a certain mustached aviator but as you both made it to the bar the general consensus was that he hadn’t made it yet. You greeted Penny and Mav with hugs and congratulations, both so glad that you could make it. Mav caught your eye as you ordered a drink from Jimmy, and you knew what he had to say before he even started.

“He-“

“I’m sure he does Pete. I wish it changed anything, but it doesn’t. This is your day, you don’t need to waste it worrying about the past, I’m ok I promise.”

He just wanted his godson to be happy, you knew that. But it wasn’t that easy, too much time had passed and you were uneasy enough thinking about having to see him tonight. So with a squeeze to his arm and a smile you made your way across the bar to the pool tables and your former squad.

Rowdy and full of mischief, that’s the best way you could describe them, whooping and cat calling you as you crossed the threshold, enveloping you in hugs and remarks at how you’d been missed. Phoenix sidles up to you now, bumps her hip against yours with a Cheshire Cat grin, the two of you had never lost contact during the past 6 months and you were grateful for another person looking out for you tonight.

“I’ve missed you cutie! It’s just not the same around here, still can’t believe you left me to take care of the kids by myself.” You both laugh at that, looking towards your boys now as they play fight and place bets at who can kick the others ass at pool, knowing without a doubt that Jake will take the winnings.

“It feels good to be home Nix, I didn’t realize just how much I missed everyone until I got here. Florida is nice, I love the group I have there but the daggers are my family.” You trail off, trying to suppress the tears threatening to leak from your eyes.

She pulls you in for another hug, kisses the side of your head. “It’s going to be a good weekend buddy, I can feel it.”

Bradley’s late. He knows he should have left earlier but he’d been dragging his feet. Mav had texted to tell him you were here and he had to pull over on the highway to empty his stomach. His nerves are shot, pulling the bronco into the lot with shaking hands he attempts to pull himself together, knowing you are just inside has him feeling faint.

“Get your shit together Bradshaw, don’t lose your cool.”

He sucks in a deep breath and opens the door.

After grabbing a beer and getting two pitiful sympathetic looks from Penny and Mav, he turns towards his group and lays his eyes on you. It’s like a punch to the gut, you have always been breathtaking but after having only the memories on his phone to look at he knows for sure they pale in comparison to the real thing. His feet begin moving of their own accord, brain hasn’t quite caught up to what he’s doing and it feels like a magnet is dragging him towards the one place he has longed to be. You are arm and arm with Coyote, animatedly telling him a story with sparkling eyes and Bradley is falling in love all over again. He skirts the outside of the group, settles in to a seat next to Bob and Fanboy hoping he can keep from startling you. But you feel his presence because of course you do, and he can tell the moment your energy shifts. You keep looking at him in the corner of your eye, arms wrapped tightly around yourself and it breaks his heart. His view is obscured by Hangman all too soon, leaning in to the table to catch his eye.

“Rooster”

“Hangman”

“We aren’t gonna have any issues tonight are we?” Jake asks with his signature smirk and lazy southern drawl, it’s charming to some but to Bradley it’s like nails on a chalkboard.

“I’m not here to make things uncomfortable bagman, just here to fulfill my duty to Mav as best man. Y/N is a big girl and doesn’t need a babysitter, if she wants to talk to me I’m happy to listen to anything she says, I’d be an idiot not to”

“You’re an idiot either way Bradshaw but if you make Stormy girl cry tonight you’ll be showing up to the ceremony tomorrow with a black eye, just keep that in mind.”

“Understood.”

Jake blinks back the shock, didn’t expect Bradley to be amenable towards him at all. They have avoided each other at all costs in social gatherings ever since the split, Jake knew nothing good would come from stirring it back up and Bradley looked like a kicked puppy most of the time. Shrugging it off, Jake nods to the group at the table and heads back to where you are, encouraging hand on your shoulder. He’d be damned if someone ruined your night, so instead of letting you wallow he scooped you up to pick a song on the jukebox and took you to the dance floor. Spinning you and reveling in your giggles and bright eyes, it almost made him forget that he wasn’t supposed to look at you the way he was now. He’s been so good about keeping it together all these years, making sure to have a date to keep him occupied when you were cuddled up to Rooster and firmly planting himself in the friend zone. He knew that’s what you needed and he’d always go above and beyond to make you happy. Even if it meant he couldn’t have you.

You have no idea how long you’ve been here, speeches have been given and far too many shots have been had; the room is too hot and slightly spinning so you make your way outside for some fresh air. He’s there of course, smoking a cigarette and watching the waves. Looking him over now you can see the little changes, he’s not as bulky anymore, face and torso are definitely thinner than they used to be. He looks tired, to the bone judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the way he seems to slouch in on himself, no longer the larger than life persona he used to project. You think for a moment you should go back in, but as he flicks the used up cigarette into the wind you are both face to face, pain clearly etched in his features as he takes you in.

“Hi.” It’s all you can make out, you think of how ludicrous it is that after 6 months of heartbreak the best you can scrounge up is a measly hi.

“Hi Storm, it’s good to see you.”

“Y-yeah it’s good to see you too, it’s been a while.”

He runs his hand over his scarred chin, looking you over and it almost looks like he might reach out for you but he thinks better of it.

“I’m sorry Bradley- I can’t do this, I know what you’re gonna say and I feel it too but it doesn’t change anything. We’re the same people we were 6 months ago, and love isn’t going to fix it.”

You were trembling, tears pouring down your face and Bradley couldn’t stand it. He’d broken your heart and let you go, but he’d never once stopped thinking of you. Just two steps forward and you could be back in his arms, and he thought of Mav’s saying “don’t think, just do.” So he closed the distance and pulled you into his arms, your beautiful face cradled in his hands as he wiped away your tears.

“Baby, my sweet sweet girl I know I fucked it up, and I’ve spent every day of the last 6 months thinking of what went wrong. I don’t deserve it; I know that but please even if it’s just for tonight let me love you.”

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol spurring you on or the fact that you’d missed his touch so much it physically hurt, but pulling his lips to yours felt like the easiest decision you’d ever made.

You heard the door swing open behind you and someone cleared their throat, causing you to jump backwards out of his grasp, moment over as quickly as it had begun. You spun around to find Jake, eyes full of anger directed right at Bradley and then he looked towards you; disappointment clearly etched in his features.

“I couldn’t find you, Payback said you’d gone outside so I came to make sure you’re alright.”

You feel your cheeks redden with embarrassment, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t be alone with Bradley and yet here you are less than 24 hours later letting him kiss you.

Jake is still staring you down, you shift a little feeling extremely small between the two people you love most.

“Everything’s ok Jake, let’s uh- let’s go home ok? It’s late and I’ve had more than I should have.” You grab at his elbow to steer him towards the lot to the truck, steely gaze still focused on Bradley but he lets you move him, starting a fight isn’t going to fix a thing and he knows more than he’s let on. Maybe it was time to play his hand and let you know just how much of a piece of shit your so called “Prince Charming” really was.

The ride back was eerily quiet, tension flooding the cab of the truck while you spent every second overthinking. Why had you let it get that far? You’d done so good, it’d been half a year without any contact and you’d folded *so* fast, it was so embarrassing. Ugh and for Jake to be the one that found you?! You knew he’d be pissed and expected a thorough lashing but he didn’t say a word. Just stoically stared at the road, no smart ass remark to be found as he white knuckled the steering wheel. He pulled into the drive and bolted for the door, didn’t even stop to let you out like he normally does. Taking a deep breath and mentally preparing for a long ass night trying to drag his feelings out, you made your way into his townhouse.

He’s nowhere to be found when you step inside, probably holed up in his room so he won’t pick a fight; you know the routine fairly well. He hates hurting your feelings so he shuts down and lets himself cool off before he talks to you, normally just acts like nothing ever happened because he’d rather not bring it all back up again. But when you go to check his bedroom he’s not there either; door ajar and completely devoid of Jake. Finally you head to the back porch, he’s there slumped in one of the lounge chairs, already cracked open another beer and staring down at his phone, determined to look anywhere but at you.

You plop down into the chair next to him, knocking one of your knees with his, hoping if you needle him enough he’ll tell you what’s wrong.

“Jakey”

“Don’t. Don’t do this right now Y/N, just let me be before I say something we will both regret.”

You know you should just let it go, but the harshness in his tone is so out of character but frankly you’ve had enough of everyone tiptoeing around you.

“No.”

“No?”

“No I want to do this now, what is it that you aren’t telling me? You seem to have forgotten that I know you better than your own mother Seresin and I can tell when you’ve been holding back. You looked like you wanted to beat Bradley into the ground earlier and I know I screwed up and let him get to me tonight but im a big girl Jake I can make my own mis-“

“You didn’t make any mistakes though!” He boomed, causing you to jump in your seat. “ you’ve spent this whole time blaming yourself for leaving, for not communicating but you have NO idea. This was never something to blame yourself for and the fact that you let him back in tonight knowing what I know makes me SICK.” He’s never had an outburst like this with you, chest heaving and shaking hands he can’t seem to stop, he knows it’s all about to bubble up but he can’t stuff the secrets back down.

“What do you mean, what you know? Jake what am I missing?” You whisper softly, you have a sudden glaring realization and it feels like everything is crashing down, it can’t be can it? You need him to say it to confirm but you wish the earth would swallow you both up; everything changes if he says what you think he will.

“He cheated on you, a month before the mission, and he thought he’d gotten away with it but apparently Fanboy caught him and Mirage fucking in the hard deck bathroom. He agreed not to say anything, but when you left she suddenly started showing up more, he wasn’t even trying to hide her y/n! Everyone knew he was taking her home after nights at the bar, and Fanboy couldn’t keep it in anymore so he told me. Bradshaw was jealous of your success, he took the mission away from you and to really stick it to you he fucked a fellow squad mate behind your back. As far as I’m concerned he’s dead to you, he has no right to come crawling back and you deserve to know it all so he doesn’t take advantage of you again.”

It all made perfect sense now, Bradley had had one too many late nights at work claiming he was shooting the shit with Mav, never interested in taking you to bed like he had been before the mission talk started up, but you’d chalked it up to stress. Always making excuses for him, assuring yourself that he wouldn’t dare cheat because why would he have given you his mother’s ring? He’d told you he wanted a love like Goose and Carole had, promised he’d love you forever. Of course he’d lied, he’d always been more concerned about his career path and his accomplishments, any time you did something of merit his congratulations always seemed tinged with something sour, but he was happy for you right? He loved you right? Now you didn’t know for sure.

You reeled back at the realization, all the puzzle pieces fitting together to make a heartbreaking story, and you felt a surge of nausea come up quickly rushing to the side of the yard to throw up. You could feel Jake’s cool hand holding your hair back, the other rubbing circles into your back telling you to breathe. He’d always been a safe haven in your life, steadfast no matter who he was seeing at the time. You came first to him, your friendship and partnership in the air like an unspoken vow between the two of you. You were being hit with one revelation after another tonight, and you jerked away from him suddenly; throat dry as the desert as you quickly made your way inside to the sink to rinse out your mouth.

“Hey hey, talk to me honey. I’m sorry, shit I’m so sorry you had to find out like this; I should have never let it get this far but you seemed happy in Florida and I didn’t want to open old wounds. Please Stormy, look at me baby I need to know we are ok.”

Now he’s the one wringing his hands, Hangman is never nervous, he’s always larger than life and the most confident person in the room. He looks so boyish now, standing in the dim light of the kitchen, the fear on his face so unnatural on his handsome face.

You couldn’t deny that he was beautiful, you’d always seen the way he attracted the attention of everyone in a room, like the definition of the word gorgeous come to life or the hero on the cover of a romance novel. Just classically handsome, and yes he was smug and he knew just how good he looked but he’d never put on any kind of mask when it came to you. Let himself be vulnerable, trusted you would keep his secrets and never make fun of him for his faults. Now looking at him in the quiet of his home, you realized that Bradley may have physically cheated; but maybe he wasn’t the only one that blew up your relationship. Some part of you from the day Jake Seresin had walked into your life had always belonged to him. Admitting it to yourself now was jarring; how long had you let yourself think he wasn’t everything to you? You found yourself terrified and excited at the thought, suddenly hyper aware of how close he was to you, knowing that if you crossed that line with him tonight you’d never be the same. You tilted your head up to look at him, reaching a hand out so he could close the distance, and watched him relax into your touch knowing you weren’t angry with him.

“Stormy-l-“

“Jake…Do you love me?”

He goes cold at the realization, oh God you had figured it out. He’d tried to suppress it for so long, but obviously with the clarity that had been gained tonight you seemed to be able to see the truth. He’d always been in love with you, but decided that having you in his life was more important than getting his feelings out so he’d gallantly put them aside. When he’d found out the truth about Rooster he’d been unmoored by the whole thing. How the hell could anyone ever hurt you like that? What kind of moron has the perfect girl and destroys her happiness? But he’d let you go, knowing you needed to run and find yourself in the aftermath; Jake was just grateful he could continue to be a part of your life in whatever way you needed. But oh God you knew now, he could see it on your face and since it had been a night for truth and honesty he told the consequences to fuck themselves, pulling you into his arms and pressing his forehead to yours.

“I could deny it, and we could just go back to the way things are if that’s what you need. We can continue this weekend like we have been and I’ll let you go back to Florida. Because you matter too much to me to be selfish with you, but oh angel I want *so* badly to be selfish. So you tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

He’s so open, pouring his heart out to you and you can’t look away, his bright green eyes searching for any kind of reservation on your part, and when he doesn’t see any he grins that perfect lopsided grin of his, the one that makes your heart grow ten sizes. It’s not a rushed or sudden clashing of teeth and tongue, it’s a slow movement of lips molding together, hands mapping each other in a way that’s never been allowed before. It takes your breath away and as you gasp he slides his tongue against yours, reveling in the little noises you make as you grasp at the collar of his shirt, the need to have him closer overwhelming. After a while with the willpower of a god he pulls himself back from you a little, stroking your cheek and chuckling as you stagger forward trying to chase his kisses. He tilts your face to look at him and he’s warm all over, it’s everything he’s ever wanted and he has to tell you before he lets it get too far.

“I do Y/N, I love you. I always have baby. I want it all with you kid, and I know it probably feels sudden, but I can’t lie to you; I want everything with you. I’ll wait as long as you need because I’m in this no matter what, I don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He says with a watery laugh, and you realize he’s got tears in his eyes.

You are pretty sure you turned into a puddle on the floor, arms and legs feel like jello as he holds you up between himself and the counter. You could agree that yes it was sudden, hell you’d just let Bradley kiss you less than two hours ago, but you couldn’t deny that in all the times you’d kissed Rooster it had never felt like this. How were you ever supposed to go back to the way things were? Did you even want to? The thoughts were swirling around in your head now and he could tell you were lost. So he kissed you once more, just a featherlight peck and then stepped back from you.

“We’ve had a lot of big reveals tonight baby girl, how about we take a beat and sleep, let tomorrow figure it all out for us.”

He was right of course, it has been an overwhelming evening and you two should probably look it over with fresh eyes, so you let him lead you down the hall. He thinks you’re going to head to the guest bedroom but you surprise him, stepping into his bedroom and closing the door.

“Stormy, we can’t- not tonight honey you and i are wrung out-“

“Shhh, we aren’t doing anything tonight Jake, just hold me ok? I need to be close to you.”

He peels off his clothes and lets you change into one of his T shirts, tangling his arms and legs with yours as you snuggle up into bed. Drifting off to sleep, not knowing if he hears you, you whisper to him

“Jake I think I love you too.”

Jake Seresin Masterlist

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#top gun maverick #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun rooster #top gun hangman #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fandom

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arielburrow · 6 months

Text

So It Goes

Your relationship with Joe seems to be a flame that was never put out.

“I just don’t see how this is ever going to work.” You struggle to get the words out through your sobs. Your hands cupped your face as you sat at the edge of your boyfriend's bed, his figure sulking above. “We keep telling ourselves we can push through but Joe we are miserable, and we aren’t anywhere near the end. You're going to Cincinnati in less than a month and I’m working out of Miami for at least the next three years!” Your cries become heavier as you feel his weight beside you as his head falls to your shoulder. You hear his silent cries as well.

“Your right…I hate it, but your right,” he mumbles into your shoulder. You pull him closer to you, grasping the fact that your relationship was inevitably at the end. “I mean really Joe, before I flew out here we shared what? Five texts in the last month? I barely made it to three games this season,” You whisper towards him. “I know, I know but baby you have to understand it won’t always be like that…just right now life is a whirlwind, and I just have to figure some things out but then-”

“Joey,” you cut him off. “You’ve been saying that for two years now…I mean i’ve accepted at this point your entire life is a whirlwind and I just don’t seem to fit into it.” You lift your head and stare blankly out of the window of his apartment. Thinking back to the first day you stepped foot in here and how optimistic you both were for the success of your long-distance relationship. You and Joe had been dating for two years back in Ohio and you’d be lying if you said those weren’t the best two years of your life. It started with innocent study sessions that eventually led to late-night conversations lying next to each other on his rickety dorm mattress. Before you knew it, he swept you off your feet and showed you what love really was. You remember the tears you wept when he first told you he decided on LSU. He immediately embraced you and you promised him they were “happy” tears and you were just so “excited” for his future. That being undoubtedly true, you never imagined how much Joe's life would change in the upcoming years, and how little you would be a part of it.

“y/n…I’m willing to wait, I promise you I don't care how much longer we’re apart for I’ll wait for the days when I get to wake up to you every morning.” he seemingly pleads as his head rises off your shoulder and you both meet each other's eyes. “Joe I am so beyond proud of everything this year has brought you and everything the next years are going to bring you. But, honey you know as well as I do that we are not the same people we were two year ago unpacking in this very apartment. Joe this is not a bad thing i need you to hear me, it’s just not healthy for either of us to keep dragging on a relationship that is fighting to keep its head above water.” You grab his hand and hold it close to you before you reluctantly stand and head for the door, tears streaming down your face as you reach for the handle.

“y/n…it’ll always be you, I promise even if we never see each other again, we both know deep down we were always meant for each other.”

That was four years ago

and as you stood in the mirror applying final touches to your face, it finally hit you. That gut feeling that you’ve had since you opened the invite but couldn’t quite put your finger on.

He’s going to be there.

There was no doubt about it. Sam was one of his best friends and it was the middle of the off-season. Hell he might even be in the wedding you think to yourself as you notice your face turn in the mirror. You both had lived about a million lives since you last saw each other which you know to be a fact due to your “surprising interest” in football whenever the Bengals were playing as your brother would joke. It was unintentional snooping on a life you swore you were putting an end to as soon as you got back to Florida. Of course your life carried on, you started dating again and made a great group of friends. But no matter what every Sunday you found yourself sat watching Joe through his brutal knee injury, Super bowl attempt, and current list of nagging injuries. Every now and then your mom would mention him over the phone but you were always quick to dismiss him, refusing to admit you still kept an eye on him. Besides the pit in your stomach, you were excited to watch your friend Sam marry his childhood best friend Ava and see all your friends you hadn’t gotten a chance to catch up with since moving back to the Ohio area. You moved back a couple of months ago, finding peace working with a new company that promised a more stationary enviorment for you. It was nice to be closer to family and friends and although it wasn’t considered Ohio, Covington was just under two miles from Cincinnati.

“Have you seen the gold hoops i laid out? I cant find them,” rachel comes into the room in a search. She was your best friend and you were so excited to be staying with her for the weekend, given she lived in down town cincy where the wedding was taking place. “here.” You hand her the earrings as she smiles.

“you look extra good,” she smirks bouncing your curls and flatting your dress once more. You roll your eyes knowing where she was going with this. “C'mon y/n, it’s been like a year since you’ve gotten laid, I just know tonight’s the night.” she laughs as she puts on her heels. “Your terrible, I’m not going to this wedding to get some, I’m going to celebrate our friends and-”

“you know he’s in the wedding right? I just wanted to warn you, Sam said he’s his best man,” she says looking up with a sympathetic smile. You sigh, “that’s good for him, glad him and Sam are still just as close.” You smile trying to brush off the conversation.

Arriving at the venue, you took in how beautifully decorated it was. White roses lined the entire isle and fairy lights were strung from each end of the ceiling. You and Rachel greeted familiar faces as you found your seats. You chatted for a bit with others, greeting both Sam and Ava’s parents. Soon after, silence fell as piano chords began to play and heads turned towards the double doors as they began to open. You watched as the party made its way down the aisle, some new faces, but for the most part, you recognized everyone.

Finally, you spotted him. His dirty blonde locks grown out long, framing his face in a way that brought out his features like no other. His frame was just as tall, just much more muscular in comparison to when you last saw him. He made his way down the aisle, arms locked with a pretty blonde with blue eyes. They walked with a sort of synchronicity, capturing every eye in the room even more than before. You couldn’t help but let out a smile at the fact that his eyes remained glued in-front of him, he seemed nervous. You felt Rachel poke your stomach, making you giggle a little. You hated to admit it, but he looked good, so good.

Finally Ava entered as everyone rose, she was such a beautiful bride and watching Sam’s reaction almost brought tears to your eyes. They looked so happy to be taking this step together and it pulled at your heartstrings knowing how far you still were from this step.

The ceremony started as you kept and eye on Joe, he still seemed to be in a trance just watching Sam, not taking note of the crowd. When they finally kissed, everyone stood in applause. You smiled as you scanned your eyes down the groomsmen once more, only to be stopped by a pair of blue eyes locked directly at you. You felt frozen for a moment, but forced yourself to let out a small smile, only met with a continuous face of shock from Joe. You would have probably stood there forever, however a shove from Rachel got you moving with the rest of the row out to the reception area.

Once everyone made their way to the much more open space with even more white roses and lights, you finally had a second to breath and take in what just happened. Everyone found their designated seat once again and watched as the bride and groom made their big entrance and began to make their way around greeting everyone.

You looked up to the wedding party table and immediately spotted him.

Well, not only him.

The same blonde you had assumed was only Ava’s maid of honor had her head rested on Joe’s shoulder and a hand on his chest. You took in her entire appearance. She was undoubtedly gorgeous and very petite compared to your taller figure. As your eyes scanned up you were met in a deadlock with Joe's eyes once again. His face was expressionless, but nonetheless, he had caught you in some sort of trance once again. Only shaking out of it when you heard Ava and Sam approaching your table. You greeted the two and chatted with them for a few minutes, trying to bury a growing feeling inside your stomach.

Before food was served, speeches were started by both sets of parents. All of them were beautifully worded and carefully thought out to honor the couple. As Joe stood to say his, you latched on to every word, secretly admiring the sincerity he had for his best friend. He kept it short but sweet, and of course, claps seemed a little louder after his. Finally, you watched as the blonde stood, introducing herself as Stephanie, she went on about her best friend Ava and you subconsciously tuned her out. You were brought back when Joe’s name was mentioned, specifically how, “thankful” she was for Sam bringing such a “special man” into her life. She smiled looking down at him and placing a hand on his shoulder as he looked up to her with a small smile. You couldn’t tell if you were more shocked at her words or the twisting in your stomach because of her words. The adoring coos from the audience didn’t help the feeling, and neither did the few glances you picked up from individuals who knew well of your past with Joe.

As the reception continued, the dance floor got more crowded and the music got louder as the night continued. Your mind was in a different place than it was an hour ago, you were actually enjoying dancing with your friends and catching up with people you hadn’t seen in years. “You want a drink?” you loudly ask Rachel over the music as she dances next to you. “No thanks! Still working on this one!” she shows you her drink and you nod, letting her know you’d be at the bar. You hopped up on a barstool greeting the bartender with a smile as you rattled off your order. Turning away only for a second to look at the dance floor, you were startled when you turned back, noticing who had joined you.

“vodka soda please.” Joe orders from the man and slowly turns his head towards you with a smile. You can’t help but giggle a little. “How are you still drinking the same thing from college? Some things really never change I guess.” You raise your eyebrows as you take a sip from your drink. “Hello to you too.” He sarcastically replies making you both smile a little. “I honestly had no idea you were going to be here, I mean i can’t believe Sam didn’t mention it,” he states. “Yeah well it was great timing, I moved to the Covington area a few months ago so I was excited to come see everyone again,” you reply trying to make casual conversation. “Wow…I had no idea you were back, I mean i’m just really surprised to see you after all this time.” His eyes softened a bit and you could’ve sworn he had gotten closer. “You look really great, y/n” his words are quieter and you swear you see a shift in his eyes. You blush a bit at his words and fail to hide it. “Thank you, so do you. How have you been doing?” you reply trying to change the path of the conversation. “I’m alright, just making it through the off-season right now after such a shitty season. Looking forward to some trips and stuff,” he reply’s with a shrug. “That’s nice, I’m glad you let yourself relax a little,” You give him a genuine smile. Your eyes both lingered on each other a little too long, leaving you both in a blushed giggle. “So are you still working the same job,” he questions. “No, I mean technically yeah, but for a different company. I wasn’t happy anymore and felt like I couldn’t move up at all. Now I can stay here and feel a lot more productive with what I’m actually doing.” you stop yourself from going on not wanting to bombard him with a vent. “That’s nice you can stay in one place now, wish it could’ve been like that a couple years ago.” He laughs to himself but immediately regrets his word choice seeing your reaction. You felt a ping of guilt. He was right, things would be so different if you hadn’t uprooted your whole life for a job you wouldn’t even end up settling on. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.” His hand inched toward yours but he stopped himself, seeming to be fighting an internal conflict. “It’s okay” you give him a reassuring smile.

You two continue to catch up and throw back a couple more drinks which you couldn’t even deny you were heavily feeling. You both watched the movement on the dance floor and your eyes fell on Stephanie who you had caught suspiciously watching Joe a few times throughout the night. Your mind honestly no longer had a say in what your words were. “So…” you press on “Stephanie seems nice!” You say with a clearly high octave in your voice making Joe laugh and shake his head. “Yeah..Yeah you know Sam introduced us, and we basically went on a double date and all and you know, it’s all good.” He finishes off his drink and places it on the bar with a hint of aggression. You watch her make her way off the dance floor and towards you and Joe. She pulls him off the barstool, clearly ignoring you and drags him to dance. He was clearly just as drunk as you which you felt partially at fault for, but decided to go find Rachel. You searched around for a bit but couldn’t seem to find her anywhere. You noticed Stephanie taking a selfie with Joe from across the room which he seemed antsy to get away from. You figured maybe Rachel took a step outside so made your way to the lit-up back patio area. You felt a sharp breeze as you stepped outside, regretting not bringing a coat as you held your arms and began to walk in search of her. After a long walk around the venue, you felt less under the influence and took a deep breath before you were stopped in your tracks.

“you just seem to be everywhere tonight.” You Joke, causing Joe's head to turn from where he was leaning on the railing looking out towards the city. “You look absolutely freezing,” his eyebrows raise as you accept the spot next to him. “just a bit” you joke, not expecting what he does next. You feel his suit jacket rest over your shoulders and a feeling of warmth overcomes you, something greater than just the feeling of a jacket. You look up to him with a smile before looking back towards the city. You both stood there, in absolute silence, for what felt like an eternity. The sun was long set by now, and the city glowed as each building outlined its own unique story. Your eyes traced each one, you felt so in touch at this moment, probably partially due to the alcohol, and partially due to something much greater than that.

Joe was the first to break the silence. “y/n…I’m really glad I got to see you, I really thought I’d never see you again.” he admits keeping his eyes ahead. You take a deep breath before speaking. “Yeah me too Joe, i’m glad everything worked out for us you know? We both got what we wanted in the end.” You said trying to convince yourself your words held truth. Joe seemed happy and like he had it all, you on the other hand felt like a lost puppy. He lets out a breath as his head drops before he turns to you. “Are you happy?” he asks. You freeze at the question, such simple words left you so complexed. Your silence seemingly answers his question. “Y/n…I told you a long time ago how much you mean to me, I just want you to know that hasn’t changed.” You both turn to each other at his words. “Joe-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Just listen. You ended things a long time ago with us and I let you. But I shouldn’t have, I should’ve fought harder and you know, I guess I just wanted you to know I’m sorry, for not fighting harder.” he stares into your eyes in a way you knew all too well. A feeling you hadn’t felt in years crept back into your body as you felt yourself gravitate towards him. You feel him pick up your hand as he moves in. His other hand meets your chin as he lifts your head towards his.

Inches away,

You feel your nose graze his, and in a quick second, you are met with the only lips that have ever meant anything to you.

Part two here

#joe burrow #joeburrow #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey burrow #joe burrow x y/n #joey b #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow bengals #cincinnati bengals

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haddonfieldwhore · 4 months

Text

safe and sound - matthew tkachuk

matthew tkachuk x gn!reader

summary: matthew gets hurt during a game; you get worried it’s bad like last time

warnings: mention of injury, sprinkle of angst

word count: 0.9k

you watched with bated breath as matthew skated cautiously towards the bench, doubling over in discomfort as he sat down, and you pinched your arm gently between your fingertips. ‘it’s just a bad dream- like it always is’ you thought to yourself; ever since he had fractured his sternum during the playoffs last season, your body tensed anytime he was hit into the boards. more times than you could count, you had woken with a start from a nightmare of matthew getting injured again, only to reach over and find him asleep next to you. the thought of him getting hurt like that again plagued your mind, and you wanted more than anything for this to be a dream.

but as the game continued on in front of you, matthew still sat on the bench, you came to the conclusion that you were awake; that this was real. it hadn’t looked like a dirty hit, just an unfortunate one as number 19 found himself crushed between two of the carolina players; no love lost between these two teams. you were not at the game tonight, and as the players departed to the locker room for the first intermission you watched your phone impatiently for a text from matthew.

it finally came through, after what felt like perhaps the longest five minutes of your life, and you breathed a sigh of relief as you read the message on the screen.

he said he would be home soon and you tried to focus on the rest of the game, which remained scoreless until nearly the bitter end. florida scored but the goal was called offside and taken away, and in the end carolina scored with only 18 seconds left, leading to them winning the game.

not long after matthew returned home looking defeated and tired, his hair messy and his white shirt unbuttoned at the top underneath his grey suit he had worn to the game. his tie had been forgotten as it was absent from around his neck, and you walked over to the door to greet him, pulling him into a cautious hug.

“hey,” he hummed under his breath as he placed his bag on the ground and his arms circled around your body. your head rested on his chest as you breathed in his familiar scent, easing your anxiety slightly.

“hey matty,” you sighed, kissing his exposed collarbone softly.

“i’m not gonna break, you know,” he laughed softly, noticing your hesitation, but his body betrayed him as he winced slightly from the laughter shaking his chest. he hoped you hadn’t noticed.

you did.

“but you can, and that’s what scares me,” you protested, still holding on to him carefully. “what happened? are you okay?” you asked, your fingertips gently touching his torso.

“yeah, it’s probably just a bruised rib. they’ll evaluate again tomorrow but for now it should just be a day to day thing,”

“don’t push yourself. if you’re hurt like you were last season…“

“i’m not,“

“are you sure? don’t think i’ve forgotten that brady had to physically drag you out of bed and help you get dressed. and then you played a game after.“

“i know. im sorry baby,” he kissed the top of your head.

“i just worry about you,” you sighed, pulling away to look up at him, your hand reaching up to brush his curls away from his forehead. his hair was getting long, and he had let his facial hair grow out a bit as well; he looked beautiful, though his eyes remained sad as they looked down at you.

“i hadn’t noticed,” he teased, a smile spreading across his face as finally a sparkle of amusement reached his eyes. “i love you,” he smiled again, and the corner of your mouth pulled upwards.

“i love you more,” you argued. “i love you in one piece though, so please try to stay that way-“ he interrupted you with a kiss, and you could feel his smile against your lips.

“i’ll try,” he promised, and he meant it whether you believed him or not.

“thank you,” you kissed him softly again. “but just for the record, i will always be here to put you back together.” you gently slid his suit jacket off his shoulders, placing it over the back of the couch as you walked towards it to sit down. matthew pulled you into his side and you snuggled close to him.

“did the seattle game start yet?” he asked, and you laughed; he truly did live and breathe hockey.

“i think so, probably a few minutes ago,” you said, grabbing the remote and switching on the tv. “i still can’t believe you want to watch hockey after playing a game. you guys don’t even play them again this season.”

“yeah but vancouver is only two points ahead of us, so i want them to lose,” he explained. it made sense; florida was fighting back and forth with boston for first in the eastern conference right now, and both teams were right on the tail of the canucks who were first overall in the league.

“are you sure you don’t want to just rest?”

“i’m watching a game, not playing it,” he laughed, and his lips pressed against the side of your head as he held you close to him. “and besides,” he said with a smile as he looked at you. you who always made sure he was okay. you who probably would’ve dropped the gloves (metaphorically speaking) with svechnikov yourself for hitting him if given the opportunity. you who he loved more than anyone else in the world.

“i feel better already.”

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

#nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl players #real person fiction #hockey #florida panthers fic #florida #matthew tkachuk imagine #matty tkachuk #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk #tkachuk

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disneyprincemuke · 3 months

Text

that's my man * matt + rocky

notes: this one is canon ok and much longer so pls hi

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

the first date

“so this is what you meant by you had something up your sleeve!”

the main doors of the hotel open and matt immediately spots the white range rover parked by the sidewalk. she’d been using her phone initially, looking up and whirling around as he called out to her.

“i know a guy who was willing to lend me his car.” she unveils her fisted hand, car keys — to presumably the car she’s cozied up with by the sidewalk — and grins. “i asked logan’s older brother if i could borrow his car for something tonight.”

“you’re as resourceful as you look absolutely gorgeous tonight,” he grins, stopping right in front of her on the sidewalk. “do you want me to drive? you did already take care of the transportation. seems like the least i could do.”

she scoffs, shaking her head and waving a hand in the air to dismiss him. “i don’t reckon you frequent south florida, do you? cause i kinda know a spot.”

“these are for you, by the way.” a blush creeps up the older man’s cheeks as he extends his arms, presenting her with a bouquet of red roses. “and, do you? frequent south florida?”

“aw, thank you. that’s so sweet,” she coos, taking the flowers into her hands. she peeks at him momentarily as she looks down at the flowers. “and i did growing up — i used to spend a couple weeks a year with logan’s family in miami, then a couple in melbourne with oscar’s.”

“very ms worldwide of you to do so!” matt teases. “so, you said you know a spot? you’re not going to kill me, are you?”

she unlocks the car and turns. “not on the first date, matt. that’s third date activity.”

the first night over (at hers)

“is hijacker okay? he’s been staring at me for like… the past 3 hours i’ve been here,” matt whispers, pointing at the cat that’s perked up on the cat tree in the corner of the living room. “won’t even let me introduce myself to him — just walks away.”

the girl, left momentarily to fix themselves a drink, saunters back in with a tired sigh. she glances momentarily at the cat still staring at matt from across the room and grins. “jack doesn’t like anyone but logan. he hates me too. watch.”

matt raises his eyebrows as she puts the cups down on the coffee table. she perks up and turns sharply to hijacker. the black cat in the blue collar flinches slightly at her sudden action, its ears lowering slightly.

“jack, baby. wanna cuddle?” she takes a mere step towards the cat tree and hijacker leans back with a soft hiss. she turns back to matt. “see? i’ve fed that cat for like 6 months now — still hates me.”

“and kidnapper’s an extrovert?”

she glances at the cat that’s taken it’s spot on matt’s lap, loafed up and eyes closed. “i think he just likes you. he avoided logan for like 3 months before he accepted the fact that logan comes with the home i gave him.”

“and stubby?”

their heads turn to the dog that’s fallen asleep by the dog bowl. she shrugs. “he just really likes sleeping on the floor by the bowls. we usually find him there in the morning.”

“i respect where the priorities lie for stubby,” matt jokes.

he stretches his arms as she approaches him, slowly sitting herself on the couch and nuzzling herself into him. “thanks for flying over to keep me company.”

“well, you were hinting that you were lonely cause logan’s out of town. i had to come by and make sure you’re good,” matt grins. “thanks for not turning me away when i texted you that i was downstairs.”

“ah.” she scrunches her nose, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “who could ever turn down such a cute guy when he shows up with flowers so suddenly?” she has a hand on his chest as she looks up at him a cheesy grin. “seems silly for me to do so.”

“and i missed you, so,” matt shrugs with a teasing grin, glancing down at her. “had to come down and see my girl.”

the first crash

“rocky, someone keeps calling you. matt something?”

“is that why i heard ciara screaming?” the girl sits up from the bed and sighs, scratching her head. “you know matt, blythe?”

“no, but i did listen to ciara scream about it for like 10 minutes,” blythe laughs. she hands over the phone to her older sister. “anyway, he asked to speak with you — said he was worried cause he saw your crash and you haven’t spoken to him since you started the race in montreal.”

she hums, eyes fluttering. “right. that’s because you guys took my phone from me.”

“that’s because you kept trying to call oscar and sing him the national anthem of the united states,” blythe rolls her eyes with a soft laugh. “how do you even know that?”

“i memorised it to terrorise logan while we lived together,” she grins. “anyway, i’ll call matt to let him know i’m alright. thank you for giving me back my phone.”

“well, i’ll leave you to it,” blythe mutters, halfway out the door with a small grin. “say hi to ‘matt’ for me. whoever he is.” she peeks in one last time. “tell me about this guy, mate. i can’t believe you’re seeing somebody and didn’t tell me.”

she rolls her eyes, sinking into her bed as she dials for matt. she doesn’t know what blythe had said to him, but he immediately picks up.

“hey! i was starting to get worried for you!” is the first thing matt says when she picks up. “was starting to get kinda worried for you.”

“aw, you’re worried for me?” she teases with a small grin. “and how did you know i crashed out anyway?”

matt tilts his head. “what do you mean how do i know? i watched the race.”

she giggles, throwing her head back. “you watched the race? so you saw me screaming at logan and hitting him in the back of his head with my glove?”

“i did,” he scrunches his nose and shakes his head, “don’t tell anyone, but i thought it was funny. i don’t condone it, but it’s funny. anyhoo, is everything okay?”

“thank you?” she laughs. “well, i’m okay. i was just super high on painkillers the past 2 days. i was asleep the entire flight back too.”

“what about with logan? your sister texted me back so i’m assuming you didn’t go back to london?”

“logan and i fought. i didn’t think going back to the apartment would do anyone any good, you know? i’ll probably talk to him in a couple days.”

he raises his eyebrows. “really?”

“probably not. he turned into me,” she frowns. “but, anyway, how cute of you to call until my sister decided to finally pick up!”

“well, i was concerned. and i missed you,” he sighs with a small grin. “but if you’re not doing anything, do you wanna stay on call? we can play a game or something.”

the first ‘i love you’

she never thought that she’d find herself back in her parents’ house with a man that’s neither logan nor oscar

she drops herself on her bed next to matt, sighing exasperatedly. she turns her head to smile at him slightly. “thank you for agreeing to meet my family on such short notice. papa was interested — i don’t really date often.”

“absolutely. it’s a pleasure meeting them.” he turns his head to grin at her, scrunching his nose. “i had a lot of fun today.”

“really? my missing sister didn’t raise questions?”

“hey, i don’t blame her for not attending dinner.”

“ah, good for you. cause i do.”

she tears her eyes away from him and looks up at the ceiling of her bedroom. surrounding her light are glow-in-the-dark stars and a moon, stuck up there when she was 15. “you know, i used to be really scared of the dark.”

“no way,” matt giggles, following her gaze. “how did you get those up there? you’re not…”

“oscar and logan helped me. i used to force blythe to sleep in my bedroom with me with a nightlight switch on in the corner of my bedroom over there,” she laughs, sitting up and pointing over at a secluded area in the bedroom where her bookshelf sits. “but she wanted to eventually sleep in her own room so we had to find a way to combat sleeping alone at nights.”

“and who came up with the great idea of the stars and the moon on the ceiling?”

“oscar,” she purses her lips and turns her head again to face him. “i feel really bad sneaking behind his and logan’s backs. but i’m really afraid that they’ll scare you away.”

“what? why would you be afraid of that, bub?” she reclines to lay on her back again with a huff. he reaches over to pinch her cheek tenderly with a small grin. “surely they’re not as bad as you say they are.”

“but they are.” she turns to lie on her side to face him with a frown. “they sat me down in a meeting room for 15 minutes once just to give me dating advice, matt. no sane group of people would do that — they had a buzzer and everything!”

true, it might sound a little absurd. “i think they just really care for you, bubs. you must find it a little endearing that they did that for you.”

“it was except one of them kept saying that every guy i’ll meet is a pervert,” she whispers, scrunching her nose as she tries to hold back a giggle from the memory. “i want you to like them, you know? they mean a lot to me. and especially… you know… oscar and logan. they’re my best friends.”

“don’t overthink it, bub. everything will be okay,” he whispers back. “and i love you, so it’ll work out.”

she hums, eyebrows shooting up as everything around her starts to disappear. there’s a ringing in her ears as her heart starts to race in her chest. “you what? you do?”

“did i just say that?” he squints at her with a teasing grin. she furrows her eyebrows and pulls her head back with a frown. “i’m kidding. of course, i do. i love you. but just because i said it does not mean that you have to say it back.”

she’s had one relationship in her lifetime, with someone whose name she can barely even remember. at 16, everything means the world, but at 21, it just no longer seems so serious.

this is technically her first boyfriend; or so blythe claims.

“i do,” she whispers after a moment of silence. she sits up, body twisted to hover over him a small grin. she bites down on her bottom lip. she’s not one to be emotional too often. “i love you.”

the first time

a gasp passes her lips when matt’s lips leave hers, peppering a trail of kisses from the corner of her lips down to her neck. it wasn’t a problem until she felt his fingers grazing over the exposed skin where her shirt had hiked up her stomach.

she puts a hand on his shoulder and pulls away, shaking her head. “i’m–”

but it’s like he’d immediately known. which throws her off a little bit because she had a whole speech laid out in her head and everything. “i’m sorry. have i made you uncomfortable?” he tears his hands from her and moves back on the couch slightly to increase his distance from her. “we don’t need to do anything.”

she blinks at him a couple of times, forcing matt to open his mouth again. “like if you don’t want to. it’s okay.”

“it’s not that,” she trails off, scratching the back of her neck with a soft and sheepish chuckle. she purses her lips and lifts her eyes to look at him. “i’ve just…”

he lifts his eyebrows to try and urge her to continue her sentence. she sighs again and throws her head back, chuckling slightly. “what’s wrong? is everything okay?”

“it’s just,” she drops her head with flushed cheeks and an embarrassed grin, “i’ve never had–” she pauses to swallow the lump in her throat, “sex before.”

“oh.” he furrows his eyebrows before he sits up straighter. “oh!”

“laugh it out. i’m a 21-year-old virgin,” she turns to hide her face away with a soft laugh, waving a hand in the air to dismiss his concerns. “get it over with now that i’m admitting it to you.”

“what?” he hunches over to look at her with a small grin. “why are you embarrassed? that’s like… perfectly normal.”

she shrugs. “i feel like it’s weird that i frequent the club and i’m still a virgin, you know? i don’t know — some guys have said that to me.”

he laughs, and drops himself back on the couch, tugging on her sleeve to rest her on his body. “it doesn’t matter. i’m sorry i made you uncomfortable — i didn’t know.”

“and now i’ve ruined the whole moment,” she whines, tearing herself off of him again. she twists her body to look at him. “i do want to; i just thought you should know that… you know, i’ve never had sex.”

“you do?” matt tears his attention from the tv, the movie she’d initially chosen and eventually got bored of still fills the empty air of her apartment. “we don’t have to unless you’re really ready.”

she purses her lips and blinks. “i just thought it was something you should know. in case you were expecting me to be good?”

he furrows his eyebrows. “that’s ridiculous.”

“i don’t really know anything so i guess that’s kinda embarrassing,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “i don’t want to be like–”

he sits up, inching slightly closer and with a small grin. “bub. i’ve got you, okay?”

she grins. “okay.”

the first night over (at his)

matt tugs on her arm. “get up, bub.”

“no.”

“if i got you ice cream for breakfast?”

the girl, sprawled out on his bed, lifts her head with her eyebrows raised. “really?”

he grins with a nod. “only if you get up now.”

“but i can’t,” she sighs exasperatedly, dropping her head back on the pillow that matt’s put underneath her head. “kota and i have a contractual agreement to cuddle until the sun comes up.”

“really? did she tell you that?” he asks monotonously, glancing at the siberian husky that’s laid over her smaller frame. “did she also tell you that if i say ‘treat’,” his voice perks up and along with it, so does kota’s head to look at him, “that she’ll get up with no question?”

“that’s bribery, your honour,” she snorts, rolling her eyes. “what are you asking me to get up for anyway? i thought it was bed time.”

he hums, “i found this really cool and interesting ice cream parlour. it’s open til midnight if you wanna go.”

a squeak passes her lips, a small grin making its way to her face. “ice cream for supper and breakfast? you spoil me too much, maltesers.”

he hunches over, his face hovering inches from her face. “my girlfriend deserves the best. so, you up for it? we can take kota with us for a walk and some treats.”

she nods excitedly. “i never say ‘no’ to ice cream.”

the first dnf

the safety car comes to a stop right by the paddocks. the girl mutters a soft ‘thank you’ before immediately pushing the door open to leave.

she has her helmet in her hands as she walks with her head low, jaw clenched as she tries her hardest to contain the sob she feels threatening to come out of her.

if she could, she’d tear down all of the walls around her and scream. but she can’t. because around her are cameras pointed at her with fans gawking as she passes them. it’s not their fault her car couldn’t handle the heat.

she makes a sharp turn for the andretti racing home, head hung low until she opens the glass doors in.

“aw, bub.”

she lifts her head from the ground and sighs heavily, shoulders slumping at the sight of the familiar green eyes she’s been hoping to see when she got into the safety car. she lets the door close behind her, throwing her head back as she closes her eyes. “matt.”

“aw, i’m sorry, bub.”

she lets out a soft whine as she finally lets out the sob she’s been holding in for the past 10 minutes, running over to where her boyfriend stands by the bottom of the stairs, expecting her.

she sighs exasperatedly as she takes large steps towards him, tears starting to fall out of her eyes. she lets out a huff when matt’s hands grab at her shoulders firmly, eyes piercing into her own. “hey, hey,” he hums softly, “cameras are pointed at you. keep it together for like 30 more seconds until we get up to your room.”

“what?” she breathes shakily, eyebrows furrowing.

she looks around teary-eyed, only then noticing that not everyone had left the racing home for the race. or perhaps they had rushed back when she retired from the race from an overheating car.

matt’s right — she’d get torn apart by the media and the fans; everyone if she’s to show one moment of vulnerability. it’s just her reality.

“oh,” she turns back to him and hangs her head low again, “okay, let’s just go upstairs for a bit. i need to be at the garage in a while, i think. seb might be looking for me.”

“okay,” he nods, wrapping a protective arm around her as they turn away to head up the stairs. he tries his best to keep her out of the view of cameras and prying eyes, but they both know it’s nearly impossible to keep her name clear of tabloids in a couple of hours.

he presses a tender kiss on her temple and in return, she looks up at him with a small and fragile smile. “come on, let’s get you all patched up before we head back to the garage.”

the first fight

she throws her arms in the air, lips pursed. “it just doesn’t make sense.”

“rocky.” matt’s green eyes pierce into her own, the girl standing her ground and fighting for her cause. he sees where she’s coming from, but realistically, he can’t wrap his head around why there’s arguing about it. “i had one scoop of ice cream with mick.”

“yeah,” she tilts her head, “without me.”

he blinks. “because you were in your car for practice. i couldn’t have possibly gone up to you while you sat in your car and offered you a bite.”

she takes a step back and points a finger at him. “did you even try?”

“try–” he furrows his eyebrows and scowls slightly. “do you want me to get banned from your garage, rocky? why would i even try and give you food while you’re in your car?”

“just say you don’t care about me, matthew!”

“that’s so not what it– what is that?”

the girl standing by the door whirls around to her door, a soft tune coming from the hallway. she glances back at matt with furrowed eyebrows to which he shrugs, just as confused as her.

“i literally know that song,” she trails off softly, “but i can’t place my finger on it. i can’t–”

before you go and make that face when you’re mad at me

“liam lawson!” she stomps her feet on the ground and fully turns away from matt. she swings the door open and is only met by a speaker sitting lonely on the ground as matt’s voice consumes the entire second floor of the andretti garage. “where are you?”

“you can’t find me!”

matt tilts his head in amusement as his girlfriend bends over to pick up the speaker. she makes a sharp turn before a loud squeal is heard, followed by a bunch of smacks, then another string of screams.

“i told you to not play that song, liam! why are you the way that you are?”

“why did you date someone with the apology song and not use it? it’s not my fault, rocky!”

“you’re so annoying, liam!”

“but–”

“stop playing that song when we’re fighting!”

matt hears a door slam closed, and a couple of footsteps before she reappears at the opened door of her driver’s room. she sighs heavily and shuts her eyes for a moment. “i’m so sorry for him. what were we fighting about again?”

“i ate ice cream while you were out on the track for practice,” matt points out. “i’ll buy you a pint and give you a massage as truce? i’m sorry i ate without you.”

she grins. “okay. time to sing the song again, by the way! that’s the only way i’ll accept your apology.”

“a kiss won’t do.”

she shakes her head, hands on her hips as she closes the door behind her. “no can do. only the song will make me smile again.”

“okay, only because i love you.”

#f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 grid x reader #f1 female driver #formula one x reader #fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #vettel reincarnate #dpm vr: macky

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drysaladandketchup · 4 months

Note

for the "things you said" writing meme -- matthew/leon, 12 :)

Thank you for the request <3 I realised very quickly I have no idea what constitutes a 'mini' fic. I struggle to write 'mini' anything lol. Hopefully this still satisfies :)

12. things you said when you thought i was asleep

It takes all of Matthew's willpower not to reach over and smash his phone just to shut off the alarm. All that saves his wallet and an awkward trip to the Apple store is the split-second realisation that the shrieking in his ear isn't his usual alarm.

It's a ringtone. Not his own, either.

He pries his eyes open to find the world through the window is still dark. One of the balcony doors is still ajar, letting in a cool night breeze. He's lying on his side in his own bed, the end of the all-star weekend memorialized by several aches and bruises.

His hips and ass are a little sore too, but that's unrelated. Technically.

The ringing stops. Someone huffs behind him.

Someone. Yeah, no, Matthew knows who it is. They may have met up at the bar once the media was done swarming, but Matthew was far from drunk. Painfully sober, in fact. If he's being honest with himself, he was hoping things would turn out this way.

One more time. One more moment. Because it's been a long time since they were them. Longer still since the sex was just sex, since hate became want. Matthew is strong in a lot of ways, but not against this.

"Davo." Leon's voice is low, and still gruff from sleep when he answers his phone. He sits up on his side of the bed, trying not to disturb Matthew, pulling the covers back up over Matthew's shoulder like he thinks he'll freeze to death in this balmy Florida winter.

Usually Matthew's a heavy sleeper. But never when Leon's around. He makes it impossible for Matthew to completely relax, to let time slip by. Leon's just too big of a presence, almost too much to bear. It was more important that everything linger, to bask in the strange comfort of their relationship, whatever it was. They had so little time. Even less, now.

"I know it's late. No, no, I'm not at the hotel. I'm... I'm with Tkachuk."

Leon says his last name like it's wrong, like it's rotting on his tongue.

When he corrects himself, says, "Matthew", it's better, lighter. Like it's ambrosia.

Matthew remembers when Leon Draisaitl saying his name wouldn't have meant a damn thing to him. When that simple act didn't fill him with fondness.

In the silence, Matthew can hear McDavid talking on the other end, but can't quite make out what he's saying. Matthew tucks up under the duvet, breathing quiet and even, trying to focus instead on the distant sound of waves and the ticking clock on his wall.

Ticking. Always ticking. Time bleeds out when they're together.

He doesn't even remember falling asleep last night, but he wishes he hadn't now. He wishes he'd stayed awake longer, just to... just to see him. To look Leon in the eye, to talk about everything and nothing until dawn, to feel big, too-warm hands on his body more and more and more. He wants to make sure he'll remember how Leon feels, sounds, tastes.

"Connor," Leon says, a warning, followed by a sigh. "I know. I know, okay? It was stupid, but..."

Maybe it was. Matthew has a good thing here in Florida. Better than ever. He was happy to leave Alberta behind and start over. So why did leaving make him feel like a coward?

Because leaving was about Calgary, and the Flames. About his career and his future. It wasn't about Leon. Leon was the wrench in the gears; the one thing he didn't expect to have to say goodbye to, the kind of hurt he never could have accounted for.

"I needed to see him." Leon sounds helpless. He's not the only one.

The only time he's heard Leon so lost was after his team was knocked out of the playoffs last season. The Oilers meant nothing--Matthew was pretty fucking glad considering they'd beat out the Flames--but he never wanted to hear Leon like that again.

He definitely never wanted to be the cause of it. Not like this.

Leon is still mumbling into his phone. "Yeah, I'm fine. He's... we're good. He's happy."

A hand settles on Matthew's head. Fingers play with his curls, nails scratch his scalp. A thumb presses just behind Matthew's ear, stroking the soft skin where only hours before Leon had put his lips, whispering sweetness and filth in equal measure.

It takes everything for Matthew not to groan, to whimper and surrender, roll over and climb on top of Leon and take all over again. Beg him to take something--everything--from Matthew.

"I don't know," Leon says then.

It's easy to guess what McDavid asked.

He's happy. But are you?

"I can't even tell him I still love him."

Still. Matthew didn't even know there was a before, let alone a still. Leon never said anything. Fuck, if Matthew wasn't busy trying to remember how to breathe, he'd roll over and punch him.

Then again, what did Matthew ever say? They never talked about it. Never let those closet hook-ups and slipping out back doors and little drinks and dinners and overnights excused as practical necessity be anything more than that. A bunch of chirps and half-truths and aborted discussions because it was all becoming too much. There was too much uncertainty. Too many ways it could go wrong.

It did go wrong. It became something. It became real.

Maybe that would have changed something. Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything at all. It doesn't matter now. Matthew left, and neither of them said a word about things like love, because it was easier to hope it would shrivel and die with distance and time.

"I know I'm being stupid." Leon pauses when McDavid interrupts, then huffs. "No, I am. Fuck, I really thought I'd get over it. Maybe I will. Eventually."

Don't you fucking dare, you piece of shit, Matthew wants to scream.

"Not sure I can, though." Leon swallows so loud Matthew can hear it. Then quieter, like he's not sure he's even allowed to admit it, he says, "I don't really want to."

He's still playing with Matthew's hair, occasionally dragging a finger over his bare shoulder or down his back, tracing imaginary lines across Matthew's flesh. Like he's something to be memorized and cherished.

They're both so fucking stupid. Matthew bites his lip and tries not to choke on the lump in his throat. Could be his heart, climbing right up and out of his mouth. He clings to the sheets with shaking hands.

"I'm not going to fuck up what he's got here," Leon says tiredly, voice thick with tension and pathetic resignation.

Leon's not here to drag him back. He wouldn't do that. So why is he here? Just to torture them both? Being with him doesn't feel like torture. It feels like winning. It feels like defiance and decadence and too much and not enough. It feels like what could have been and what could still be.

He didn't find Leon at that bar and bring him home out of pity, or nostalgia, one last fuck for old times sake. It was... it just was. Not an ending. Not some final goodbye. Proof maybe there could still be something. Getting over it was never an option, Matthew knew that well before he stepped onto the ice as a Panther and found himself staring Leon down all over again.

Matthew's vision is blurring. His eyes sting, warm and wet. There's blood pounding in his ears, and a hand clutching his heart, a vice around his lungs. He hardly remembers how to breathe.

He doesn't catch the rest of Leon's conversation, except something about meeting Connor back at the hotel tomorrow. Meaning he's staying the night, at least. He's staying.

When Leon hangs up the phone, Matthew finally comes up for air. He relaxes his shoulders, listening to the soft thump as Leon taps his phone against his forehead over and over. Then it clatters on the side table. Leon sighs, sniffs, and sinks back under the covers. He tucks right up against Matthew's back, still burning like a furnace, soft muscle and skin brushing Matthew's spine in all the right ways.

He throws an arm around Matthew and finds one of his hands, worming his fingers through the gaps to hold it. His palm is sweaty, not that it matters at all to Matthew. He can't help squeezing Leon's hand a little, but if Leon notices, he doesn't say a word.

Not until he's wrapped tight around Matthew, near suffocating, like any part of them that isn't touching is a sin.

"Love you," Leon mumbles, barely more than a whisper, pressing his lips right to the base of Matthew's neck. Matthew's body can't seem to decide whether to shiver or melt under the heat.

Leon says it like it's inevitable. Painful. Pitiful.

What he's saying is, I'm sorry I love you. I'm sorry I couldn't say it before. I'm sorry I don't know how to say it now. I'm sorry it's too late, it's the wrong place, the wrong time.

Like he doesn't think Matthew could ever understand. And that's the worst part of it all. They're still not on the same page. Tearing down what they never built.

If Leon's only brave enough to say it when Matthew's asleep, then Matthew will just have to be brave enough to say it in the light of day. He doesn't run, and he won't now that he knows he doesn't have to.

He stares into the night outside his window, listening to Leon breathe, feeling his heart beat through Matthew's chest like that's where it longs to be.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow maybe they can stop chasing time long enough to make the most of what they have. To make up for what they've wasted. And whatever happens after, well, maybe they can stop being afraid of that, too.

#hockey #mattdrai #matthew tkachuk #leon draisaitl #my writing #asks #i can take any prompt and shove angst into it just watch me #'mutual pining dumbasses who can't communicate' my beloved trope #i hope it's obvious this is happening during/right after the 2023 asg #i know 2020 was the sacred texts but I feel like we don't use 2023 for mattdrai purposes enough #poor connor always suffering through mattdrai bullshit #leon has a scrapbook full of pictures of matthew and will be like 'remember when my bf left me ;_;' and connor wants to jump off a bridge #'mini' fic they said. i don't think 1.6k is mini. it got away from me. but i have never been concise in my life why start now

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jawz · 6 months

Text

i’ve been thinking a lot lately about the way my ethnicity affected the way i was gendered as a child, my drive to transition, and even my detransition…

as a hispanic growing up with my white mom and white stepdad and white brother and white extended family in scandinavian hell (minnesota), i always felt different, always felt wrong. (my parents divorced as a baby, and my dad and his family, cuban and italian, all live in florida.) my neighborhood wasn’t so bad; it was way more diverse than the metro area itself. growing up i had mixed friends, i had friends with curly hair… but us trailer park kids were only a fraction of the population of our schools and district. a sea of blonde hair. there were times in elementary school i would literally pray to god to make my hair straight, make my eyes blue. grown-ups touched my hair and always asked “is it naturally curly?”. my classmates urged me to straighten it and by age 13 it was part of my ridiculously time-consuming “feminizing” beauty rituals.

much earlier, by the age of 8 or 9, i already had thick, dark hair growing on my legs. other kids, boys and girls alike, called me “gorilla girl”, faked gagging when i wore shorts, insisted i was actually a boy. that one became more and more common as i came into my personality: bold, class clown, competitive with the boys. (always wanting to charm the girls, but i didn’t recognize that back then.)

my mustache was there by 8, as well. just a little peach fuzz above my lip but dark enough to notice. are you even a girl? my mom would spread wax over her own face and soon began waxing my stache as well. it hurt so badly. i put up with it because she said it would make the kids stop teasing me. of course i was a girl- she was a woman and she had peach fuzz too!… but i felt self-conscious at the fact that my body hair was so much more noticeable, even as a child. my mother’s hair is very thin, straight, lighter brown; her complexion is warmer than mine, pink where mine is olive, green and yellow. i worried you could see the strands about to burst through. i was worried that to be a girl- a woman- i must hide parts of myself every day. i must cover the shoots of grass, the weeds that reveal that i’m not fit for society, that whisper i’m wild and untamed.

it wasn’t actually until i was 18 at least that i actually started to consider myself latino. i had sometimes said ‘hispanic’ growing up, as that’s what my family in florida called themselves; they referred to themselves as “spanish”, which i found out was not quite true after compiling my family tree and discovering that those ancestors emigrated from havana. in their minds they were white: “descended from spanish royalty” (as if!!)… i had spent my youth constantly trying to claim solely whiteness, confused as to why everyone was asking me “are you mexican?” “are you jewish?” “are you middle eastern?” - even though inside i think i knew. i knew my family didn’t look like me. i resented my surname being changed to Lind when i was five, my stepdad’s name, in order to give me the same name as the rest of them. despite my apparent envy of swedes and norwegians i knew it wasn’t my name; i still stood out terribly. i glared at myself in the mirror every day, i never could move past how the kids at school said my eyes were the color of shit, that my hair looked like pubes, that i must have had a sex change without being told because that would explain the mustache, the aggression…

by the time i was fourteen i was entirely primed to accept an alternative explanation to what was “wrong” with me. my sexuality was becoming more and more apparent but before i could ever come out as lesbian or even bi, i had discovered what it meant to be trans. i was so immediately certain that this was the key, THIS was why everyone said i didn’t fit in, THIS was why my behavior wasn’t girly, THIS was why i wanted to date girls. it was 2011, still deep in the “brain sex” era of the trans community, and i was sure without a shadow of a doubt that i was physically female, mentally male. all that needed to be done was to “correct” my body and bring it in line with my brain. despite the fact that very few people knew what transition actually was back then, i genuinely assumed it would make sense to everyone else, too: they had told me i wasn’t ‘really’ a girl so many times i had no trouble believing it.

transition, of course, did not suddenly de-latinize me LOL. first i became a total Other, outside of both the minnesotan ethnic norms and the gender+sex norms; eventually, with hormones and surgery at a very young age, i was able to pass as a boy, but by the time i could grow actual full-on facial hair, i realized i was still the pan-latin american enigma to people around me. multiple times someone would call me “sanchez” as some sort of attempted insult or joke. police looked at me differently than they had before. shop owners followed me, accused me of shoplifting. and sometimes, the white girls i dated told me that i was way cooler than all the boring white boys they knew. one girl even called me “exotic” to my face. it was, apparently, a compliment.

when i was 21 i heard that my girlfriend had referred to me to others as “a POC who identifies as white”. it felt as though she didn’t even know me at all. i’d never claimed either of those things to her.

moving to the west coast (socal specifically, where being latino/a is not considered ‘abnormal’) illuminated a lot of the bizarre and unnatural racial expectations of my midwest upbringing; i think by this point i was beginning to realize what so many things from my childhood had meant. that they weren’t really saying i was a boy. they were saying we don’t like girls who look like you, and we’d rather not have you included in our category.

it took me another three years to fully reckon with this. by the time i decided to detransition i had a much better understanding of the circumstances of my life; conversations with close friends who are also latina and have walked similar paths to me, heard similar insults, similar “compliments”, opened my eyes to the fact that i was not alone. i no longer feel weird for thinking the race/ethnicity boxes on government forms are hopelessly reductive. i know who i am and who i am not.

(around this time, i happened upon some old pictures of my dad’s side of the family. beautiful and glamorous women: adela, my uncle’s mother, the piano player; melanie, my aunt, the wife, hostess, and addict; lauren and andrea, my cousins, the restauranteurs; stella, my dad’s mamma, the widow and matriarch. and on all their faces, thick dark eyebrows, and, yes, that ever-familiar peach fuzz. i swear it healed something in my soul. despite my lack of beauty and glamor, we are not so different after all.)

that’s not to say all things are easy now. i’ve spent three years living as a GNC woman and if that wasn’t enough to confirm most all of my hypotheses on people’s perceptions of me, i don’t know what is.

detrans spaces (like most trans spaces) are overwhelmingly white- or at least that’s who dominates conversation. i see SO much downplaying of the things that naturally hairy women go through societally. i see trans allies who purport to be “okay” with detransitioners, saying “what’s the big deal? if you took testosterone you can just go off it and get laser hair removal!! :)” as if laser isn’t expensive as hell, painful as hell, and also WAY more of a process for a woman with dark curly hair than it is for one with straight blonde hair lmfao!!! i see detrans women obsessed with removing all traces of hair from their bodies (even though most of them clearly don’t have a neverending five o’clock shadow like some of us do! my lower face has a constant blue-green disturbance under the surface which makes female spaces incredibly daunting) and insulting the rest of us for being ugly and hairy and making no effort to look like women or what the fuck ever. basically, a lot of people who claim to support us are just racists and essentialists and believe that sex is visual and not biological…🤨

anyway… i guess my main takeaways from all this are:

1. please stop acting like detransition is an entirely internal process and that it’s easy for all of us to be seen as our sex again (some of us like. actually transitioned and passed as the opposite sex), or that potential physical interventions aren’t incredibly invasive and difficult

2. stop assuming all transition and detransition journeys follow your own experience of lifelong whiteness and hairlessness

3. it is a distinct experience to be regularly de-gendered or denied your sex, PRIOR to ever thinking of yourself as literally trans. many trans/detrans people had this happen to us (we were once the vast majority of trans people). but many did not, and generally shock others when they begun breaking gender norms. i really think people from the second group often have trouble understanding that for the first group, changing gender expression is basically a bandaid over an abscess… we have lived entire lifetimes being denied our sex, being told our bodies are not “truly” ours, that there is someone else inside trying to break out. kicked out of the bathroom, the changing room, alienated from single-sex peer groups. transition just flips this experience and instead separates us from our preferred gender group, reinforcing the feeling that we have no place, anywhere.

race/ethnicity, being homosexual or bisexual, mental illness stigma, disability, and low economic class all play an additional role in this. stop perpetuating this and denying us our biological sex.

#this is a toooootal rant lmao sorry but its been on my mind for a while.#kind of a culmination of two posts ive been wanting to make #detrans #detransition #ok to reblog

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cuckette · 3 months

Text

tags past noncon / rape, re2r leon being a BYSTANDER!!

fic i couldn’t bother finishing so ignore all the typos + generally unpolished n shitty. VERY SHORT!!!

You remember his face.

You don’t think you could forget a face like that. The heartthrob type, with his boyband haircut and baby blues. It’s in the crevices of your mind, you vaguely remember wishing he would look your way, but when he did it wasn’t meant to be like that.

When they held you down, he saw them. He saw you. He looked right at you. And as your body broke, mottled by the crushing weight of bigger hands, you thought about him asking you on a date to that Italian place downtown, and when you said yes the rest would be history.

Bent in half, you managed to hold your head up so you could watch him, the blue collar peeking out from beneath his navy windbreaker. Then it’d be road trips and viewing Baroque Villas neither of you could afford, and summertime in Florida to stand in for your Bahamas dream. You thought about putting a ring on his finger, and you thought about waking up beside him everyday, you tried not to notice the way he shifted from side to side. He dropped his hands to cover the front of his jeans, the faint outline of his dick straining against the fabric.

You tell the man at the front desk that you’d like to make a report, and you know why he looks like he’s seen a ghost, but you won’t tell. You certainly feel like a ghost, so it’s understandable. He looks nice in blue, it brings out his eyes. It’s the blue most men wear as a badge of honour, for him you suppose it’s nothing more than an excuse to be a pig.

#🏩.diary #tw noncon #🧸.shorts

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birdiewriteslit · 5 months

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wildest dreams au

luke hughes x abigail abernathy

masterlist

glamorousgail🔒

tagged rudeth, drewstarkey, jonathandavissofficial, madisonbaileybabe

Liked by rudeth and 17 others

glamorousgail miss this gang

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drewstarkey soon🏄‍♂️

madisonbaileybabe summer cannot come soon enough

glamorousgail @/madisonbaileybabe literally three days into january and sick of it

lhughes_06 @/glamorousgail you live in new england

glamorousgail @/lhughes_06 fine i’ll just move to florida without you…

lhughes_06 @/glamorousgail DO NOT

madelyncline i miss you cutie pie

❤️ by author

jonathandavissofficial pogue life is the best life

glamorousgail @/jonathandavissofficial if that ain’t the truth

carlaciagrant ugh i miss these vibes

hichasestokes 🤙🤙

rudeth guys i inspired this post

❤️ by author

lhughes_06 @/rudeth well aren’t you special

January 3, 2024

—

messages 5:04 pm

luke: are you seriously still talking to rudy

abigail: he’s my friend so yes

luke: do you remember why he broke up with you

abigail: believe it or not i do and we’ve talked about it

abigail: he feels really bad and i don’t want to fuck up what we have right now especially with season 4 on the horizon

luke: gail that doesn’t fix what he did

luke: i’m looking out for you

abigail: i know that’s what you think you’re doing but trust me luke i know how to handle this

abigail: i’ve had exes who didn’t like our friendship and when they broke up with me bc of it it’s never bothered you this much

luke: whatever just forget about it

abigail: good luck tonight

read 5:17 pm

—

Abigail set her phone down and rubbed a hand over her face. She let out a frustrated sigh. It was true, she had a few ex boyfriends who hadn’t loved the idea of her being so close with other guys.

Rudy was one of them, but him and Abigail had finally reached a point where that didn’t matter, and they could go back to what they were before they started dating during the filming of season one of OBX.

She wished Luke would understand that Rudy had changed, but she knew the real reason he was upset about it, even if they pretended it never happened.

December 31, 2023

After the fireworks and the party, Abigail and the boys had successfully made it back to her apartment.

They made a great drinking game out of Monopoly on her bathroom floor, and it was getting a little wild.

Jack had almost flipped the board a few times because Abigail threatened to take his properties (even though that was against the rules).

“That’s it! I can’t afford a fucking hotel, I’m quitting this,” Quinn announced, standing from the bathroom tile, wobbling a bit before taking a few slow steps toward the door. He didn’t make it far before he slipped on some spare Monopoly dollars and came crashing down into the bathtub.

Jack laughed hysterically as Quinn groaned from the tub.

“I’ll go get some water for these guys,” Abigail decided, patting Luke’s arm before heading to the kitchen.

Luke glanced down at his phone in a nervous manner. “Wait up,” he said, following her into the hall.

Abigail took two glasses from the cabinet and placed them on the counter. “You think I need help?” she said, teasing.

“I think you’re perfectly capable,” he said, hands in his pockets as he stood by the island.

“Alright,” she responded skeptically.

Luke cleared his throat. “There’s a minute until midnight,” he said suddenly.

“Really? I didn’t know it was that late already.” She filled up each cup and put them in front of Luke on the island.

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” He looked at her like he was expecting something. He wanted Abigail to make the connection. He wanted her to round the counter and get closer to him. And then, he wanted her to kiss him when the countdown was over.

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Abigail wasn’t saying anything. She was looking at him with her lips parted, her eyebrows pushed together. Luke thought, for a moment, for a good thirty seconds, that that look meant she didn’t want what he did.

On the tv in the living room that was still playing from before they all left to go see the fireworks, the countdown had reached twenty seconds.

Luke’s eyes glanced down at Abigail’s body, he couldn’t hold eye contact for much longer without imploding. The strap of her tank top had fallen from her shoulder. Absentmindedly, he reached out to fix it.

When he did, he looked back to her face and saw she was staring at his lips. As the countdown finished, she grabbed his hand and guided it to her neck, pulling him forward simultaneously and kissing him hard.

Cheers could be heard from the television, but Luke could hear nothing over the sound of the blood rushing to his ears.

Maybe it was the alcohol that made Abigail that confident, or maybe it was just how tired she was of wanting to kiss him but never being able to.

She pulled away faster than she wanted to. Luke stared at her with a dumbstruck look on his face. Abigail avoided his eyes and grabbed the glasses from the counter, taking them to where Jack and Quinn were waiting.

January 3, 2024

Abigail didn’t talk to Luke about the kiss after it happened. Luke never mentioned anything about it to Abigail either, but she couldn’t help but wonder if it had been more than just a mistake she made when she was drunk.

What did it mean to him? How would it affect their relationship if he wanted it? Were they just going to stay friends or become more?

“I can’t do this right now,” she muttered to herself, before throwing herself back on the couch and passing out.

When she woke up, the Devils game was over. They won, but her nap rendered her groggy and feeling even worse.

She found her phone on the floor and picked it up, deciding to make a call. It rung for about a second before Quinn picked up.

“Abby, what’s up?”

“I just took a fat nap and I feel horrible,” she stated plainly.

Quinn laughed on the other side of the phone. “I feel that. Did you catch the game?”

“No, I’ve been asleep, Quinn. I can’t do this sun down at four thing.” She scowled at the dark sky outside her window.

“Even though you’ve lived in Boston your whole life? I’d think you’d be used to it by now,” Quinn said. “Are you okay?”

Quinn heard it in Abigail’s voice. She didn’t take that nap because she felt overwhelmed by the darkness. She sighed into the phone.

“Luke and I got into a sort of fight before the game. It wasn’t really a fight, he’s just upset I’ve been out with Rudy.” Abigail conveniently left out the whole kissing his brother thing, she just needed Quinn’s reassurance, like she always did.

“He seemed pissed tonight, at least on tv. Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really, but thanks for picking up, Quinny. I just wanted to let somebody know. You know, before I think about it too much.”

“We wouldn’t want that.” Abigail could hear the smile in his voice. They said goodbye and hung up the phone.

Abigail opened her messages and saw nothing new. Then, she checked twitter, and promptly closed the app after realizing she couldn’t escape her problems.

#birdiewriteslit #birdiewritesfics #birdie’s aus #birdie’s edits #wildest dreams au #abigail abernathy #luke hughes x abigail abernathy #luke hughes x oc #luke hughes fic #luke hughes #jack hughes #quinn hughes #rudy pankow #nhl fic #nhl #nj devils #smau #media edit #lh43

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