#listen yes Jack gets two boyfriends

[tl-trashtalk]

[hon3y-y]

NUH UH roomate!sukuna had his thot era, it's time for reader to have hers!!! And he's gonna sit there and WATCH it- payback baby. I wanted reader to fuck satoru, suguru, kento, choso, even fucking hiromi- she gonna get it ALLLLLLL before sukuna can even get a taste 😤

cw: noncon filming!

pt 1: here<3 pt3: here<3 pt4: here<3

omfg he would be soooo pissed💀

picture this;

The morning after everything happened, Sukuna was more than ready to make it official with you. He had already planned how he was going to seduce you. He got up early to hit the gym before you even woke up, so when you were finally awake, you would see him all jacked up and sweaty. It literally had his stomach fluttering with excitement at just how fast he knew you'd fold. 

Well, easier said than done, because when he does get home and hear someone in the kitchen, it's not you cutely rubbing your sleepy eyes in nothing but a baggy shirt. Instead, it’s that white-haired freak from last night. 

He literally rolls his eyes, ignoring the greeting the guy sends and telling him to “get the fuck out” to which Satoru just laughs, takes his toast (which he made in Sukuna’s toaster, by the way), and exits the kitchen while taking a bite. Sukuna goes to your room door but is stopped by the obnoxious blond.

“She left, said she was going to see a friend.”

“Why are you still here?”

Satoru shrugs before grabbing the shirt he had thrown onto the couch the previous night and waving goodbye, crumbs from the toast he was eating still on his lips, before the door slams shut. 

Ryomen was floored. Were you two officials? Is that why you finally brought someone home? He couldn’t deny the pinch in his chest, but he shoved it aside. I mean, he would happily break up a home, so even if this was your stupid boyfriend, it wouldn’t dampen anything. He doesn’t mind a little competition. 

At least, that’s what he thinks it’s going to be. Since that night, both of your schedules had been too complicated, and you two had only seen each other in passing. But tonight, he knew you would both be off and it’s the weekend, so he knows you at least don’t have anything till midday. 

You return late, and you are absolutely not alone.

You’re with another guy, some blond man who looks a little too pristine to be found at the club (who he later finds out is kento from your whimpered of “kento! Oh fuck—yes! right there!”).

You don’t even notice that Sukuna's door is wide open and instead stumble straight into your own. and Ryomen is jaw-dropped, shocked. 

He begins to feel like a cuck; all he does is listen to you fuck this random selection of men you’ve created within these recent couple of weeks and fuck his fist stupid. It’s so embarrassing to feel like a hormonal teenager who can’t get a grip. but he can’t stop; he just remembers what you look like under Satoru. 

Night after night, all weekend long, you’re bringing home someone new. although after a while it’s just the same three guys. the annoying blond, Kento (or “the businessman”), and some random boy named "choso,” who he walked in on you giving a blow job to.

You stopped immediately, so embarrassed and shy, as if you didn’t just have this guy with his eyes rolled back, nearly crying every time you gagged on him. Choso, on the other hand, looked too fucked out to care about the third person in the room. 

Sukuna was so hard and horny all the time, and his interest in finding someone to handle it was useless. He wanted you, not some random girl. He even bought a fleshlight for the first time, needing something other than his hand to hump. 

One night, he returned late and heard the sweet noises of your mewls (again, it was starting to feel like a routine). He tried to quietly pass your door, but stopped short. three voices?

He almost couldn't believe it, but after cracking your door open, there you were. You were jerking Satoru off, his white hair sticking to his damp forehead, while this guy with long black hair was pounding into you. One of his hands wrapped around your throat while the other played with your clit, your body jerking at the intensity of stimulation. Satoru played with your swollen nipples, pinching and leaning down to suck them. 

Sukuna can’t help but pull his phone out and record it, going back to his room and rutting into his fleshlight until his cock is raw. the video on a constant loop because he was so fucking addicted. You looked so good. so pretty, and pliant under them. He wanted, no, needed to have you.

You lay in bed, absolutely exhausted after Suguru and Satoru left. You still can’t deny the effect Sukuna has on you, but since you’ve started having hookups, you haven’t even tried to listen to what Ryo does (not that you could’ve or noticed, clearly. he’s been on a dry spell). While you sleep peacefully, snuggled into your warm comforter, Sukuna lies awake, extremely frustrated.

he’s sooo down bad://

[mariasont]

Sending another thought that I can’t think of a way to elaborate on to your magnificent mind

Aaron Hotchner with his assistant who’s rambling (like every other day) about random stuff and she’s just like “I want kids someday” and Hotch is like “oh yea?” And she’s like “yea! And if I ever have kids I hope they’re just like Jack, he’s such a little angel” blah blah blah and poor Hotch is screaming in his mind like YOU COULD HAVE JACK??? BE HIS STEPMOM????

Sorry I’m absolutely feral for them ily bye

BUSINESS OF MAKING BABIES - A.H

a/n: i took this in a slightlyyyy different direction but ugh same im so feral for these two!!!! thank you for your most amazing request! i <3 you!

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: references to baby making!!!!!!

wc: 0.6k

Aaron needed to get work done, but his focus was more trained on the delicate patch of skin that connected your shoulder to your neck, smooth and glowing like you'd just stepped out of the sun. You smelled delectably good, which was sending his neurons into overdrive. You were saying something, formulating and articulating thoughts from that perfect brain and through your also perfect mouth. 

He was concentrated on making sure you knew he was listening, nodding and humming every so often as you continued on your tangent, hands waving dramatically through the air, heels clanking on the floor in his office as you paced the room. His gaze moved to your thighs, only for a second, he was a gentleman after all. 

"And she's just, you know, popping them out left and right, and I'm over here like, Hello? Can I get a turn? I'm not asking for much, just a sweet guy who's willing to, you know, help me out with the whole baby-making thing."

You stopped dead in front of his desk, placing your hands atop the wood as you let out a melodramatic sigh. This caught his attention, eyes snapping up to meet yours.

"You want kids?" The words left his mouth before he could filter them. "Isn't that a bit premature at your age?"

"Okay, Grandpa," you giggled, plopping yourself down in the chair before him. "And, of course, I want babies. They'd be the cutest, hopefully just like Jack. He's the sweetest, isn't he?"

Hotch felt his heart plummet to his stomach, jaw clenching and unclenching as he rubbed his thumb along the rough edges of his chin. "Yeah, he's pretty great."

You sighed again, a common occurrence in this conversation, as you stood up and moved around the desk before plopping yourself down on it. Your calve grazed accidentally against his thigh. You absentmindedly adjusted a wrist full of charm bracelets, creating a gentle jingling sound that should've annoyed him, but it did anything but.

"Honestly, though, who even needs a boyfriend these days? I could totally just take the whole donor route for the baby thing. Easy-peasy!"

Hotch's response came after a brief, flustered pause, during which he seemed to search for the right words. Clearing his throat, he managed to look anywhere but at you as he carefully said, "Ah, yes, I suppose you could... do that."

In an effort to regain some semblance of control over the situation, Hotch took a deliberate sip of the somewhat stale coffee sitting on his desk. However, before he could swallow, you bounded off the desk, eyes wide with sudden realization.

"You know what? You would be a great donor."

The coffee in Hotch's mouth nearly made a swift exit as he choked, trying to comprehend what you had just said.

Hotch opened his mouth, attempting to form a coherent response, but before he could broker a single word, you had both hands on his shoulders.

Your eyes were sparkling as you took in his face. "Yeah, like, you have great hair--totally not receding--perfect eyes, great skin..."

Your rapid-fire compliments left him momentarily speechless, a rare flush making its way to his cheeks.

"Well, I--" Hotch began, but your excitement had already taken the reins before he could even navigate through his thoughts.

"I can totally see it; we'd have such cute kids!" you gushed, practically dancing towards the door as if your dreams were almost tangible in the air.

Hotch watched you leave, stuck in his chair, dumbfounded and momentarily lost for words. A bemused smile formed on his lips as he realized he didn't hate the idea at all.

No sooner had the door closed behind you than Morgan appeared, looking thoroughly baffled. He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze flicking between Hotch and the door you had just exited through.

"Since when are you and Miss Pretty in Pink in the business of making babies together?"

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @crouchingapple @navia3000 @aaronlovesava @bakugocanstompme @pansexualhailstorm @averyhotchner @looking1016 @everythinglizzy @sky2nd @messylxve @alexxavicry @yaykeira @spencerssatchel @candyd1es @storiesofsvu @pleasantwitchgarden @kodzukenmaaa @hiireadstuff @dilflover-3 @spenciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @deadofnight0 @sabmichell @jstcln @just-here-to-read13 @c-losur3 @wondergal2001

join my taglist here!

[auroralwriting]

how do we feel about spencer x hotchner!reader (hotch’s older daughter or maybe younger sister)

spencer dating hotch’s younger sister would include…

Spencer absolutely pining over you when Aaron brought you to one of Rossi’s mansion parties

“Hey, uh, Emily? Who’s that?”

“Oh, Hotch’s sister. Why, you like her?”

“No, of course not!”

Spencer is quick to a find a moment where you’re alone, approaching you and giving you a random fact he know

You actually stood there and listened, asking him more about it!

“That’s really cool, I didn’t know that. What happened next?

That’s the moment Spencer fell for you, no doubt about it

The whole time, you two mingle and get to know each other

After the party ended? you slipped Spencer your phone number casually. Poor boy thought his heard was going to explode

You were so unlike his boss. Hotch was stoic, busy, serious. You were fun, sweet, happy.

It started out with phone calls...

"Spencer, you won't believe what I saw today!"

Spencer would chuckle, "What did you see today?"

"The cutest little puppy!"

It took Spencer no longer than two weeks to muster courage (from Emily) to ask you out

Of course you said yes!

You two began dating not too many dates after...

... but neither of you told Hotch, yet

"He's gonna kill me."

"Spence, he is not going to kill you."

"He could!"

He didn't. He actually loved that the two of you were together. Of course, he didn't show it on his face or in his words, and Spencer nearly passed out while telling him, but you knew he gave his approval. He was a protective brother over everything!

Cute coffee dates, museum dates, Doctor Who binging dates

It killed you when the team was away, knowing your boyfriend and brother were both in potential harms way

Honestly, being a mother to both of them

"Spence, baby, did you drink any water today?"

"Well--"

"Nope, go drink water, right now. I don't care what you're doing unless someone is actively dying. Don't tell me if they are."

Que immediate phone call to Aaron.

"Tell me you slept last night."

"You know--"

"Shh! Tonight you'd better get eight straight hours or else I'm flying to fucking Idaho to make sure you do. And make sure Spencer drinks water!"

Hotch and Spencer definitely both complained about your mothering

Emily totally would keep an eye on you for them and snitch to you when they wouldn't take care of themselves

Going out with the team!

Holding hands under the table, resting your legs across his lap, putting your head on his shoulder

Unless Hotch was there. Spencer would feel too awkward to show any PDA around him

Babysitting Jack with him!

Jack quickly calling Spencer, "Uncle Spence" and it nearly made you cry... and him... and Hotch... and Beth

Yeah, Spencer Reid was stuck with this family now

[dcxdpdabbles]

ok but imagine

batman with gun tim time travels to the past but instead of trying to seduce baby tim to the dark side he,,, ignores him

after all baby tim is young and pragmatic he'll realize that company policy is ineffective and kill people gets shit done

no bwg!tim has more important things to handle

like killing the ppl who murder his boo danny

and he knows exactly who to target

bonus points if tim and danny aren't dating yet

extra bonus points if they haven't even met yet

The plan was simple really. Time travel and start the correct way to handle criminals early. Take out the people that had taken from him the only person he really loved.

His past self was still running around trying to talk the Bats down from murderous rage, and while that itched, it was a lesson he needed to learn in order to finally wake up and properly get things done.

Tim saw no reason to track him down. He's stubborn as a mule, he can admit that, and his past self heartily believes that the crazy bastards should be locked away instead of put down. It would be ages before he could get close to getting him to listen to what Tim had to say.

Time, ironically, is not something he has to waste. The machine that brought him back had preset departer times. If he missed it then Gotham in ten years would be without it's Batman.

The carefuly iron control he has over the city would be questioned, and some fools would try to make a power grab in the sudden vaccum Batman had left behind.

So while it would take years for his past self to come to his senses, it would happen on its own, and Tim was alright with waiting for it. What he wouldn't allow to repeat itself was the death of his lover.

His plan involved killing the people that killed Danny. What Tim forgot in his grief was that those very people were the ones to raise Danny.

Yes, Jack and Maddie Fenton had killed their son in an accident. The ray gun that they designed had been faulty and had exploded in wide outburst instead of shooting straight.

It was meant to paralyze the ghost for capture.

Instead, it attacked ghost cores in horrific, fast-acting disintegration. Tim remembers the blast washing over him, the green ripples doing nothing to him as a human, and for a brief second thinking it funny that their gun was just a fancy light show, only to hear Jack Fenton's cry of celebration.

Then Danny's scream of agony.

His skin had been falling off, and Tim had been rooted to the spot watching his boyfriend, his lover, his entire moral compass melt before his eyes.

He had watched Maddie's smug face break into hysterical grief when Danny's ghost form vanished, and the sluggish body that fell to the floor with a splat had been her son. The two scientists had reached Danny first, and the fools had begged him to hold on.

As if they were not the ones to have done this, indirectly or not.

Danny's last words had been "I forgive you. I love you"

and then he was gone. In seconds his Danny was lost. He had died painfully, unfairly, and all because his parents had believed in their bigotry so purely they never saw reason to change their minds, even when there were signs their son was part of the group they loath so much.

The Fentons hadn't even been charged with Danny's death. It was deemed an accident; the worst they had to do was pay a fine for their blast, knocking out the power. All because ghosts were not protected under meta laws, and Danny was no longer recognized as human.

Tim hated them more than any villain in the world, hated that they lived well, Danny did not.

His own comfort was that they couldn't live with themselves either. Jack Fenton had taken his life the night after the funeral Jassmin had planned for Danny. Maddie Fenton had lost her mind, speaking to the air as though her husband and son were still there, and was moved to an asylum by a grief-stricken daughter.

There she died of a broken heart.

Tim took care of Jazz, he felt that Danny would have wanted him to, but she was never the same again. She was one of the first to agreed with him that Batman had to stop people before they went too far.

That thinking "they'll come around" was no longer an option. She made him the bullets for the gun that killed Bruce's parents, and she was the one that watched that same gun put down the Joker.

It was the first time she smiled in years.

All that hurt because of these fools.

Tim wasn't going to let them hurt anyone anymore. He aims his gun at the shaking forms of Jack and Maddie Fenton, their pathetic attempt to fight him off, were nothing comparied to his training.

He had them on their knees, bound to hold still, and with one push of his finger, the toxic outlook on ghosts would die with them.

But foolish-loving Danny wasn't about to let him put them in the ground where they belonged. The boy had thrown himself in front of them with a cry, throwing up a shield seconds before the bullets found their mark.

The Fenton couple gasped while Danny turned to them with clear worry. "Are you alright?"

Tim felt as if though he was kicked in the chest, seeing the boy- for he was a boy. How had he forgotten that his love died so young? Now with all the years under Tim's belt, did he truly see how pre-maturely Danny had died.

He was as beautiful as the day Tim lost him, but he was far too pure and innocent now. Tim's killing was a necessary that ruined him, while Danny remained kind and forgiving till the end.

He can't stop the rush of air that threathens to burn tears into his eyes escape him. Thankfully his training kicks in and Batman is able to shut everything that was Tim in his mind.

All that remain was the mission within human shape.

Danny growls, voice as cold as his ice core "Who are you?!"

"I'm Batman"

"Liar!" The boy hisses, thin pieces of frost growing around his green shield. "Batman doesn't kill!"

Tim scoffs, "Killing is the only way to stop more death."

Danny doesn't respond. He merely shoots a blast at him, momentarily dropping his shield, and Batman rolls away. He will overwhelm the boy and get him out of the way.

Then, he will do what he came to accomplish. Danny must know that, for he sees the moment, he shuts away his own human part and melts into Phantom.

The young ghost who took on a King for his people and became the hero that supported Red Robin above all else.

Phantom leaps at him, and Batman meets him halfway, each wearing emotionless expressions that promise a fight to the bitter end.

[letsgetrowdy43]

Greens and grins—

Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Request filled for @deerwdy-0: 🐞 - "You smiled! I saw it, so no denying it." - Jack Hughes

Warnings/notes: I know nothing about golf, so please be kind if anything is wrong or incorrect!!

End of summer celebration!!

Jack had never been more determined to make someone love golf than he was at this moment. His girlfriend, however, seemed equally determined to hate every second of it.

The suffocating heat, the longevity of the day, the insanely short skirt, all compiling factors that added up to the girl's worst nightmare. An entire day on the course was quite literally the last thing she wanted to do on one of the only Saturdays both she and her boyfriend had off together.

But for him, she would attempt to put her distaste aside.

They stood at the edge of the course, Jack adjusting his grip on the club while his girlfriend stood beside him, arms crossed, looking thoroughly unimpressed. She tapped her foot, eyes narrowed at the expanse of grass before them, Jack turned to her and showed her his practice swing with a smile at was met a look of unsureness.

“I promise, once you get the hang of it, you’re going to love it,” Jack said, his voice full of optimism as he made his way in front of her and pressed a kiss to her temple. She rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “I highly doubt that.” Jack grinned, “Oh, come on, just give it a chance.”

He gently nudged her elbow with his, “you’ve barely hit two balls, and one of them actually went straight.” She huffed, lifting the club like it was a foreign object, “Yeah, well, that was pure luck. I don’t get the appeal of hitting a tiny ball across a giant lawn for hours.”

Jack wrapped his hand around her torso and brought her over to the tee, helping to ostition her self infront of the ball, hands on her hips as he fixed her stance. She cheekily smiled at the feeling of her ass pressed against him, his arms encircling her to fix her hold on the club before doinga few practcie swings with her.

He shook his head, laughing softly as she groaned out of annoyance after missing the ball. “It’s about the skill, the strategy, the focus…” Jack trailed off when he saw her skeptical expression as she turned to him.

“Okay, maybe that sounds boring, but I swear, it’s fun. Plus, look at how cute you look today!” She readjusted the skirt that was riding up a little too high, then back at Jack who was staring at her ass with a grin before he jumped at the feeling of a gentle smack against his chest. As he laughed at her fake scowl he once again repositioned her stance before pressing a kiss to her shoulder and taking a step back as she swung and missed, “Flattery gets you nowhere perv.”

Jack smirked, stepping up behind her and placing his hands over hers on the club, “Let me help you, and please just listen for me,” he murmured, guiding her stance, “relax your grip, aim for the ball, and just… swing.” With his hands gently adjusting her grip, she tried again, this time managing a decent hit that sent the ball flying a reasonable distance of the green.

“There you go!” Jack cheered, his face lighting up as he turned to her, clearly proud, “that’s what I’m talking about.” She shot him an exasperated look, “I still hate it.”

But then she laughed, a short burst of sound that she immediately tried to suppress, and Jack pounced.

“You smiled! I saw it, so no denying it,” he teased, stepping in front of her, blocking her view of the green as he wrapped her up in his arms and twirlled her around cheering at her little grin. “No, I didn’t,” she protested, though her lips were still twitching upwards at his actions as he placed her downand pressed a pletora of kisses to her fake pout. “Oh, yes, you did,” Jack grinned, hands holding the sides of her face as leaned down just enough so their faces were inches apart. “You can’t lie to me. I know a smile when I see one.”

She shoved him lightly, but Jack grabbed her waist, pulling her into his chest as she laughed again, unable to hold back the smile this time as her arms returned the hold.

“Fine,” she admitted, “but it wasn’t the golf. It was your ridiculous enthusiasm.” “I’ll take that as a win,” Jack said, kissing the top of her head as jumping up and down with her, “one step closer to getting you to love golf as much as I do.”

She raised an eyebrow and grounded her self on her feet to stop his cheers, “don’t push it.”

He laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they started toward the cart, a grin on his face as he grabbed his beer and placed her cooler in her hands before pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

“Okay, but by the end of today, I bet you’ll at least tolerate it.” “We’ll see,” she said, but this time, there was no hiding the smile on her face as she leaned into him and finsihing off the drink in her hand.

“I need a new drink,” she mumbled, tipping the can upside down to show it was empty. “I’ll get you as many drinks as you like, baby,” he murmured, brushing his lips against her temple, "just say the word."

He pulled her into his lap on the cart and took off in the direction of the green, where the bar chart girl magically seemed to be passing by, a mischievous glint in his eye as the engine revved beneath them.

-

-

-

[maxiemclaren]

Can you please do one where Oscar and Y/N get a cat together? Ty x

The Orange Tabby

Warnings: fluff with a little angst

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

Summary: you try to convince Oscar to get a cat and he caves.

a/n i honestly blacked out while writing this so let’s hope you enjoy!

“Babe please, just look at how cute they are!” you pleaded with the biggest puppy eyes you could muster, showing him all the cats that were up for adoption at your local shelter. “y/n, love you know how much traveling we do there is just no logical way we could have a pet right now, I’m sorry” he says pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, searching your face for a reaction, you just sigh and fall into his chest and mumble out “fine, I guess one of us has to be realistic”

Over the next few weeks you keep trying to bring up adopting a cat practically anytime you could. When he was working out, making meals, practicing on the sim, even some times when he was in meetings you would find ways to mention the beautiful orange tabby cat that they recently had received. In the kitchen Oscar was making dinner for the both of you, when suddenly you mentioned the orange cat again. “Enough y/n! I understand you might want a cat, but have you thought that maybe I don’t want one!?” Oscar yelled out of frustration, you stood there almost paralyzed, sure you’ve had your fair share of disagreements but he never raised his voice towards you. “Yeah, I guess I never thought about that, sorry Oscar.” you said and retired to the bedroom for the rest of the night. A sigh left Oscar, feeling regretful of yelling at you, he knew better than to come in the shared bedroom when you were both on edge.

In truth Oscar was trying to research how you guys could bring the cat along with you for the races, well along with getting the adoption papers in order, apparently he was a very popular cat having around 15 other people wanting to adopt him.

Oscar kept tip-toeing around the whole cat disagreement for the next week and just blissfully listened to explain why you were so hell bent on getting one. “Well my grandmother had an orange tabby cat when I was younger and he was my favorite thing” you said feeling emotional. He nodded along and held your hand while you explained, he decided enough was enough and he wanted to tell you the good news. “Love, I need to tell you something” he said practically bursting at the seams, you look at him to proceed with what he needed to say “I actually put in adoption papers for the orange tabby as soon as you showed him to me” he blurted out in a rush. “You’re kidding, Oscar Jack Piastri. You better not be messing with me” you said pointing a stern finger at him. “I’m being 100% serious my love, we pick him up next week” 

Next week rolls around with lightning speed, you two have been out almost all day making sure you have everything you need for your cat. Except there was one problem, you couldn’t decide on a name. “Ooh how about Oliver, hmm maybe Thomas” you said very enthusiastically. Oscar just laughed “Seriously Thomas? What is he an old man? A tank engine train?” you huffed back racking your brain for a name you could both agree on when all of a sudden Oscar had a light bulb moment. “Wait what if we named him Papaya?” You thought about it for a moment and came to agreement on the name. 

It has been the best 4 months with Papaya by your side quite literally, it was like your grandmother’s cat was reincarnated into him, he never left your side making Oscar a little jealous that the cat was getting more attention than him. “But loveee, he gets cuddles all day! What about me?” Oscar said pouting, you just chuckled and opened your arms for your clingy boyfriend. “Have I told you that you’re the best boyfriend?” you said while running your fingers through his hair while he laid on top of you. He mumbled out “Yes, at least twice a day since we got papaya” Looking up towards you, pure love behind his eyes. 

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Hey Bartender

Summary: Reader thinks it's just another shift of bartending but instead meets a drunk golden retriever that sets her up with his best friend.

TW/CW: Eddie Diaz x Reader, Get Together

Requested?: No 

Word Count: 4,087

A/N: I realized I always write reader as a fellow firefighter and wanted to try my hand at not doing that lol. You know I just had to add a drop of angst in there lmao. Anyways, hope you enjoy the read! Much love to all! Requests are Open!

--- Your POV --- 

    It's another Saturday night, and I'm expecting just as many jackasses as usual... Let me tell you, bartending pays well but damn does it suck ass. If I had a nickel for every time a douche bag hit on me, I wouldn't need to bartend, I could just live on my own private island. If I had a dollar for every decent man that ever hit on me, I'd be living on the streets if it weren’t for my weekly paychecks.  

    I drop my bag in the back office and head to the bar, throwing my hair up into a messy bun on the way. When I round the corner of the hallway out into the main area, I can see my coworkers Tiana and Grayson struggling to keep up. I slide through the swinging door with ease and begin taking orders. Soon, the chaos has died down some and I'm able to send Tiana home.  

    A rowdy bunch of college guys, that I see often, come in as she leaves. I raise my voice, "Hey! Don't come in here acting a fool, y'all know better." They sarcastically salute me or wave dramatically before making their way to their favorite table in the corner.  

    A tall, older, and muscular guy takes a seat on the stool in front of me, "You must be the boss lady around here," he states pointing back toward the college kids. 

    I scoff, "Might as well be but no. Our boss tends to only show up when it's slow. What can I get ya?" 

    The man laughs, "Two Jack and Coke, please." 

    I nod and turn around to reach for the Jack Daniels but find it exactly where I had repeatedly told Grayson not to put it, on the top shelf. Placing my hands on my hips, I turn toward my coworker, "Hey, dickhead!" He looks up immediately but I only point in the direction of the bottle I need. He grins with a laugh as he approaches me, grabs the bottle, and passes it down to me. As he returns to the customer, he was helping I gripe, "I swear you only do that to piss me off." 

    He looks at me, still wearing that stupid grin, "Yup, sure do!" 

    I roll my eyes and proceed to finish making my customer's Jack and Coke. When I set the glasses down in front of him, he admits, "If he wasn't making my gaydar go off, I'd be concerned." 

    I laugh, "Yes, Grayson is gay. He's basically my annoying little brother that enjoys making my life difficult." 

    The man laughs, "I'm Tommy," he points behind him, "The one waving his arms around like a crazy person is my lovely boyfriend, Evan." 

    I watch Evan animatedly tell his story for a beat before responding, "I'm (Y/N). What on earth is he talking about?" 

    Tommy shakes his head, "I don't really know. I love listening to him speak, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I zone out because I'm too focused on how pretty he is." 

    This makes me laugh extra hard, "I could see that." 

    Tommy pulls far more than enough cash out of his wallet to pay for the drinks and hands it to me, "Keep the change. See you around, (Y/N)." 

    I nod and watch him leave before jumping because Grayson speaks right in my ear, "He was cute!" 

    I shake my head, "He's gay and taken." 

    Grayson pouts, "Damn... A loss for us both I guess." I laugh and start cleaning up around the bar. 

    Sometime later, I notice something suspicious out of the corner of my eye. There's a gruff looking man leaning far too close to a girl who looks at least half his age. At first glance, I wouldn't even be sure she's old enough to drink but considering they card everyone at the door, she's at least 21 and this man looks to be in his late 40s or early 50s. She is very obviously uncomfortable and from the way her eyes dart around I can tell she's looking for an escape route. 

    I place my hand on Grayson's shoulder, still keeping an eye on her, "I'll be right back." He follows my line of sight and nods in understanding. As I pass the cooler on my way to her, I blindly grab a bottle of water. I step beside her, opposite the man, and place my hand on her shoulder and the water on the table in front of her, "Here's that water you ordered, sweetie." 

    "Aw, I just brought you a drink, Baby. You haven't even touched it yet. You don't need that water, do ya?" the subtleties his voice makes my skin crawl. 

    She avoids eye contact with him as she opens the water and takes a sip before looking me dead in the eyes, "Thank you. Could you point me to the bathroom, please?" 

    I nod, "Sure, I'll walk you there." She hops down from her stool and I put myself between her and the man.  

    I point in the direction we need to go but as she starts that way, the man grabs my right arm, "I think I can handle walking her to the bathroom. Besides, your coworker looks pretty busy over there." 

    I turn slowly to face him. I look down at where his hand is clamped around my right bicep and then back at his face, "I suggest you remove your hand from my body before I remove it from yours." By now everyone in the bar is zeroed in on us. I even notice Tommy, Evan, and a couple of their friends get up from their table. 

    His grip tightens, "I said," spits flecks across my face as he speaks through gritted teeth and with a menacing smile, "I can show her to the bathroom." 

    I wipe my face with my left hand, "Last chance, pal. You have three seconds." I give him a few seconds as promised before using my right hand to remove his hand from my arm, twisting it outwards with a small crack. Anger now replacing the smile on his face, he lunges at me but I drive the palm of my left hand straight into his nose.  

    He doubles over in pain, holding his nose as blood leaks through his fingers, "You bitch!" 

    I glare down at him, "That shit doesn't fly in my bar," I point to the bouncers, snap my fingers, and point down at the piece of shit at my feet. Already on standby, they immediately make their way through the crowd to collect him. I turn to check on the girl and escort her to the bathroom. 

--- Third Person POV --- 

    Bobby and Athena meet the bouncers at the puddle of filth who is still writhing in pain, "My husband is just gonna make sure he doesn't need a stop at the hospital on his way to the police station," she says, as she flashes her badge. The bouncers take a step back to let Bobby work. Athena turns to speak to (Y/N) but finds her already heading toward the bathrooms with the girl.  

    Bobby stands and wipes his hands on a napkin, "Alright, Athena, to the slammer. As far as I can tell she just broke it. No serious damage."  

    Athena nods and looks toward the door where two officers enter. When they approach her, she explains what happened and gives them instructions. A few feet away, Buck leans toward Tommy, "I wonder where she learned to do that." 

    Wondering the same thing, Eddie looks over as Tommy answers, "She had an Army Sergeant's insignia tattooed on her wrist." 

    Eddie nods, "That'll do it." 

    Buck looks toward the bathrooms, "A badass, former Army Sergeant, who can take down a man twice her size...," he looks at Eddie, whose eyes are locked in the same direction, "You should get her number." Eddie rolls his eyes and soon the three are ushered back to the table by Athena and Bobby. 

--- Your POV --- 

    As we arrive at the bathrooms, I wait with the girl in silence. When the door opens and another lady exits, she moves to enter before looking back at me, "Thank you." 

    I nod, "I'll be at the bar if you need me." She nods before entering the bathroom. I make my way back towards the bar and as soon as I round the corner, the college boys in the corner start whooping and hollering. The rest of the bar erupts to join them. I quickly return to the bar, grinning and shaking my head.  

    When the commotion dies down, one of the college kids loudly slurs out, "That, ladies and gentlemen, is why we don't fuck with (Y/N)." Many in the bar laugh before returning to their friends and drinks. Not too long later, I watch the girl meet a few friends at the door and make their way to a table. She smiles at me as she passes. I smile back. 

    I take and make a few more orders before letting Grayson know I'm taking a few minutes for a smoke break. After what feels like too short of a break, I'm checking notifications on my phone when I pass Grayson who grabs my shirt. I look at him in confusion, "What?" 

    He nods toward the other end of the bar where Evan is sat blowing bubbles into a fresh Jack and Coke, "said he wanted to ask you something." 

    Still bewildered, I make my way over to Evan, "What's up, Buttercup?" 

    He snaps his head up from his drink and grins at me before slurring out, "I was wondering if I could have your number," and is quick to add, "b-but not for me! I have a hot pilot boyfriend," the grin on his face gets even bigger, "I'm gonna give it to my friend Eddie who's been staring at you all night," he thinks for a split second, "He also seemed very disappointed when he saw you leave a little bit ago."  

    I laugh but before I can say a single word he goes on, "I came up here and asked your coworker if you were done for the night but he said you were just on break so I waited until you came back." He keeps rambling on and on as I grab a sticky note pad and pen from under the counter. I jot my name and number down. Normally, I wouldn't do this but these Evan and Tommy dudes seem decent so I figure their friend Eddie can't be too bad.  

    Evan is still going when I remove the note and press the sticky side to his forehead. He stops abruptly mid word, "Sweet! I'm Buck by the way." With that, it seems our conversation has come to an end as he gets up and returns to his table, not even removing the sticky note. 

--- Third Person POV --- 

    Hen giggles, “I think the golden has retrieved something.” 

    Tommy follows her line of sight and notices Buck stumbling back toward the table with something attached to his forehead; question already locked and loaded for when he's in earshot, "Whatcha got there?" Buck stops and attempts to pose heroically which makes everyone giggle. Tommy reaches up with one hand to remove the note and pats the bench beside him with the other, prompting Buck to plop down and lay his head on Tommy's shoulder. Realizing what his boyfriend has done, he looks over to Eddie, "I believe this is for you," and hands him the note. 

    Confused, Eddie takes the paper and reads it before looking at Buck with a facial expression that reads, "Seriously?" 

    Buck grins proudly as Maddie nudges Eddie, "You so should text her." 

    Chimney grins, "Or if you're man enough you can call her." Eddie glares at him, very clearly annoyed. He looks down at the paper in his hands and thinks for a few seconds before nudging Tommy and Buck out of the booth. He ignores the excited gasps and "ooo"s that break out behind him and makes his way to the bar. 

--- Your POV --- 

    I look up from the beer I'm pouring and notice one of Tommy and Buck's friends heading my direction. I top the beer off and hand it to the college kid in front of me just as the newcomer takes a seat to my left. He's staring straight ahead and hasn't said a word. 

    I wipe my hands off on a towel and grab a glass before crossing the short distance between us, "You're either a whiskey guy or a fruity cocktail guy. What'll it be?" 

    He smiles and tilts his head as he looks at me, "Whiskey, please." 

    I nod and turn around, aiming to grab the bottle of Jack I left on the other counter but find it has mysteriously moved back up to the top shelf. I whip my head in Grayson's direction but his back is turned to me. Placing my hands on my hips I glare up at the bottle. "Do you need me to-" Eddie tries to ask but instead I step up onto a shelf under the counter and climb up to stand on the granite, promptly procuring the bottle, "Guess not," I hear Eddie chuckle behind me as I scrunch up the towel on my shoulder and throw it at Grayson.  

    It nails him right in the back of the head, although not all very hard. He turns around grinning until he notices me still standing on the counter. An expression of fear almost crosses his features before he speaks, "Rodney will have your ass for standing on his counter," a teasing hint of humor in his tone. 

    I flip him off, "Rodney can suck a dick. I'd say you should too but you'd enjoy it too much," I punctuate my sentence by jumping down from the counter. Grayson doubles over in laughter as I turn back to my customer, who is also laughing his ass off. 

    As I pour the whiskey, I ask, "So, are you the Eddie that Buck mentioned?" 

    He looks back at the table where his friends are very clearly pretending to not be watching, minus Buck who is staring at us with his chin in his hands. He looks down at his whiskey, "Yeah," and takes a sip. 

    I tilt my head at him, "You don't seem too thrilled." 

    He makes eye contact with me, "To be honest, my heart is racing a mile a minute. I'm not like wasted or anything but uh," he looks back at the table and then at his glass, "I've got enough liquor in my system right now that when Chimney challenged that I wouldn't call you, I was like, 'Oh yeah? Watch this,'" he looks up at me again, "So, here I am with no clue what to say and possibly making a fool of myself." 

    I can't help but laugh, "I've had plenty of men make fools of themselves in front of me. I promise, you sir, are not one of them." 

    He smiles at this and is quiet for a few beats before asking, "Would it- would it be okay if I called you?" 

    I give him an "are you serious?" look, "Eddie, if it wasn't okay for you to call me, I wouldn't have given Buck my number." I swear I see him blush as he looks down at his glass again, nodding. I hear a customer call my name and grimace, "Give me a sec." He nods so I move to serve the customer and when I return to where Eddie was seated, he's back at the table with his friends. He's left cash on a napkin that has a note scribbled on it: 

I'll call you tomorrow when I can actually form coherent sentences :) - Eddie P.S. Keep the change! 

    I smile softly to myself and look up toward their table to find him already looking my way. I wave and he returns the wave before I slip the napkin into my back pocket and move on to take some more orders on Grayson's end of the bar. 

    The next morning, or rather the next afternoon, when I roll out of bed I immediately reach for my phone. I find a text from an unknown number: 

This is Tommy from the bar. Just in case Eddie loses the sticky note, I added your number into his phone. Figured I'd shoot you a text so you have his :) 

    I smile and lay my phone back down on the side table. My excited anticipation dwindles quickly as hours turn into days of not hearing from Eddie. I'm beginning to think he was just drunk that night and wasn't actually interested. One afternoon, as I'm getting ready for work, I glance at my phone for the millionth time hoping to see something from Eddie. No such luck... I open up the text conversation and my fingers hover over the keyboard trying to decide what to say. This isn't the first time I've done this in the past few days. Once again, I finally give up and shove my phone back in my pocket. I head to work with a pit in my stomach and disappointment heavy in my chest. 

    That evening, Grayson and all of my regulars notice how down I am and a few even try to cheer me up or be an ear to listen, including Grayson who hasn't stopped pestering me about it every chance he gets. "So, did things not work out with Lover Boy?" I brush him off and start wiping down the bar. "Come on, (Y/N). Talk to me," he sighs, "I know I'm a dick sometimes but I do care about you and I don't like seeing you so upset." 

    I take a deep breath as I toss the dirty towel into the laundry bin, "He never called. Never even texted either. And it's not because he lost my number, Tommy saved it into his phone for him." I can't hide the disappointment and hurt in my tone. 

    "Are you serious? Dude was absolutely entranced by you but doesn't bother to contact you?" Grayson asks, dumbfounded. 

    I shrug, heading for the cellar door, "I'm gonna restock. Holler if you need me." 

    He lets me go and as the door shuts behind me, I feel tears prickle against my eyes. Why am I about to cry over some dude I've only met once and only shared a few sentences with? Frustrated, I wipe my eyes and grab a few bottles that I know we need. Half way up the stairs, tears threaten to spill again. Sighing in defeat, I descend back down, place the bottles on a table, and drop to the floor against the wall with my head in my hands. This shit is why I don't let myself get hung up on guys anymore. The tears are flowing freely when I hear the cellar door open, "(Y/N)?"  

    Grayson sounds worried so I answer, "Yeah?" but my voice comes out weak and shaky.  

    I hear his footsteps descend the stairs rapidly before he drops to the floor beside me, "Hey, you okay?" 

    I look up from my hands and make eye contact, "I thought this one was different. I let myself hope. Now look at me, crying on the floor of a dusty ass cellar." 

    Grayson rubs my back comfortingly, "It's okay to cry, (Y/N)." 

    I drop my head back in my hands, "No it's not, not over a man I don't even know. I'm an independent woman who don't need no man. I shouldn't be this heart broken." 

    "First of all, yes, it's still okay to cry. Second, you may be independent but everyone needs somebody to love," Grayson says softly. 

    From the top of the stairs, a voice rings out, "Hey Grayson, quite a few people wanting drinks up here." 

    "We'll be up in a minute," he answers before pulling my face to look at him, "Get up, dust yourself off, and let's go have a good time, okay?" 

    I sigh deeply, "Okay," and wipe my tears. On our way up, I grab the bottles I had set down earlier and by the time we reach the top of the stairs, I've promised myself I won't shed another tear over this man unless he earns it. 

    Later that evening, I'm wiping down the bar again after a rush. In my peripheral, I notice someone take a seat and toss the towel away to tend to them. When I finally look over, my heart starts racing. It's Eddie. He's staring at his hands where he interlocked them on the bar top. I look around, hoping to pass him off to Grayson but find him helping other customers. I take a deep breath before smoothing out my shirt and walking over to Eddie. 

    "What can I get for you?" I ask, attempting to keep my tone friendly and even but it still shakes the slightest bit. His head shoots up and he makes direct eye contact with me. There's something in his eyes that makes me tilt my head. 

    He breaks eye contact and breaths deeply, looking back to his hands, "Listen, I- I'm sorry. I know I haven't called or texted. I tried to several times but I didn't know what to say. Buck says I was overthinking it too much but... I don't know, I just- I didn't wanna fuck it up." 

    A small smile touches my lips but I squash down the hope that's trying to breach the surface, "Eddie, a hello would've been sufficient." 

    He looks up at me and grimaces, "That's what Tommy said but I didn't wanna sound so- so casual I guess?" 

    Bewilderment replaces my smile, "What?" 

    He hesitates a second, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I didn't want to sound so uninterested when you're all I've been able to think about for days. I also didn't want to sound too interested and scare you off... Which I may have just done anyways," he shakes his head in embarrassment as he looks back down at the bar top. 

    The grin on my face kind of hurts as I tuck my finger under his chin and lift it. His eyes have a touch of worry in them when they lock with mine, "I almost texted you several times too but didn't for the same exact reason." For some reason, I let myself get a little vulnerable, "I may or may not have cried a few hours ago because I was so disappointed that I didn't hear from you..." 

    I pull away as shock etches across his features, "I'm so sorry." 

    I shrug, "Forgiven, as long as you take me out on a date at some point and remember that my number exists in your phone." 

    He grins, nodding, "I will. When are you off work this week?" 

    I look up at the ceiling trying to remember, "All day Wednesday and Sunday and then until 3pm every other day." 

    When I look back at him, he smiles, "How does coffee sound Wednesday morning? 10am?" 

    I mirror his expression, "Sounds great!" 

    I can barely contain my excitement over the next few days and wake up before my alarm even goes off Wednesday morning after tossing and turning all night. I jolt up in bed, checking my phone in a panic, thinking I've slept through my alarm going off. Relief courses through my veins when I realize there's still an hour until it will. Excitement quickly floods that relief out of my system and I hop out of bed with a spring in my step. 

    Sometime later, as I enter the small outdoor café early but too excited to wait, I see Eddie threading his fingers through his hair at a table, having beat me there. I smile brightly and approach his table. He stands as soon as he sees me, pulls out my chair for me, and motions to the coffee in front of it, “I wasn’t sure how you like your coffee but if it’s wrong just let me know and I can order you something else.”  

    I giggle, take a sip and grin, “It’s perfect,” and as I look at him sitting across from me, knee bouncing and fingers fidgeting with his coffee cup I can’t help but think he’s perfect too. 

More 911

Main Masterlist

[hughesyodaddy43]

Pizza solves everything ⎸ L.H

pairings: bf! Luke x fem!reader. Platonic!Ethan Edwards and Mark Estapa x reader Genre: fluff warnings: angst?,mentions of cheating, stressed reader, exam season synopsis: Lukes girlfriend gets worked up over finals. Ethan and Mark attempt to make her feel better. requested?: yes word count: 3.1k authors note: I am not from America so i don't know how exams and schooling work over there, i hope this still makes sense. i gave reader a nickname, 'missy' and will probably use that name for future Luke fics.

You groan as you type on your computer, sitting at your desk with mindless tv playing in the background. You currently live in a tiny apartment with your best friend, Ethan. It's a two bedroom and can only really house two people before feeling cramped. However it is right next to Umich and is far more convenient than living in the dorms. 

You only started living with Ethan last year, after your previous roommate moved out and you needed someone to share utilities with. Seeming as though Luke was leaving for New Jersey and Ethan never left your house anyway - it seemed only logical that he started paying rent.

Having a boyfriend in the NHL is both a blessing and a curse, the blessing being the fact that your hot boyfriend is in the NHL and the curse being that everyone else thinks he is hot too. 

You never were the jealous type, or at least not before you saw all the girls that crowded Luke when he went to parties. Something in you cringed when you saw how awkward he got when denying girls, it was common that you'd have to step in otherwise that man would have just stood there like a statue the entire encounter. It wasn't like he would ever cheat on you, you were confident that he wouldn't. However when your hair is fitted to a much darker shade then the girls he interacts with, it's hard to not think about him wanting a more ‘conventional’ Hockey Girlfriend. 

Luke is always first to tell you he doesn't care about that stuff and you believe him, but when you haven't called him in days, sometimes weeks, it gets less easy to control the unsettling feelings.

Everytime you call with Luke, it's always cut short, whether it’s Ethan banging on your door at 11 o’clock  for a ‘late night snack’ or Jack barging in to argue with Luke about something, you never get to talk about what you're really feeling. 

Because of the distance and lack of communication, the relationship has been a bit strained, it's not like you could tell if luke felt the same since he's too busy sleeping or playing hockey to communicate that with you. You were so proud of Luke, no doubt about it, however something in you boiled when he only ever mentioned hockey during the ten minute phone calls.

Since the last phone call you had with him, you've only really exchanged small text messages every couple hours. It was upsetting that you couldn't talk to your boyfriend about everything going on but it was also a nice way to get away so you can finish up and focus on all the upcoming exams.

You had your next one tomorrow and really needed to knuckle down and get studying for it. You've managed to get what you needed done for tonight so you thought you'd call Luke for a final call before bed.

After wriggling comfortably against your pillows, you lean against your head board. bringing your phone up close to your ear, you press the dial on luke's contact  listening closely to the ringing sound on the other end.

Ring 

Ring 

Ring 

Your breath hitches as you hear Lukes voice on the other end, only this time it was his voicemail. You take one last deep breath before shutting your phone off and sinking into your pillows. 

Your phone vibrates on your nightstand and you view a message from your best friend and biggest hater, Ethan.

House rat: the team got too much pizza, if you're still up I can bring you some?

House rat : Silence speaks volumes missy 

Pissy missy : no. i'm just asleep

Pissy missy : You're disturbing my slumber 

House rat: oh well pizza is good for your soul. Mark is coming too ;)

Pissy missy: Fuck.

You sigh and put your phone back down, wiping your eyes, you sit up against the headboard once again and pull your computer onto your lap, Resuming your place in your essay.

“MISSY  COME HERE GIRL” Ethan calls out from the front door, walking towards your room in long strides. He bursts through the door with a box of pizza in his hand and makes his way to sit at the end of your bed, Mark slowly entering behind him. Mark moves to sit further on the bed, next to Ethan, pulling out a piece of pizza from the box.

“How are you?” Mark asks as he stuffs his face with the crust.

You sigh, reaching to rip a piece of pizza from the rest, bringing it up close to your lips

“Been okay, I guess” you take a bite, avoiding eye contact with the two boys in front of you “are you sure? You've seemed a bit distant'' Mark asks “im fine.” you say, taking another big bite of the saucy crust “are you sur-” “I'm fine so quit asking” you yell, adding an edge of venom to your words. Taking the boys by surprise “wow, someones a bit extra pissy tonight” Ethan adds. 

That's when something in your throat tightens, you feel yourself bubbling over. You don't understand why, your whole nickname stems from the fact that you get pissy from time to time but it feels like that was the last straw.

Tears begin filling your eyes, vision goes blurry as you feel your cheeks burn up. Sniffles are heard as the boys go silent before you. Tears drip onto the final bite of your pizza.

“Im-sorry-i-just-so-stressed-and-upset-and-luke-hasnt-been-talking-to-me-and-i-miss-him-and-i-think-hes-gonna-breakup-with-me-and-im-just-so-sad-and-i-dont-mean-to-be-mean-but-im-just-so-angry” you hurry through muffled sobs as your eyes go red and your sinuses block up.

“Woah hey hey, Missy i didn't mean to make you upset.” Ethan says , leaning forward to meet your eyes

“Yeah, talk to us..but a bit slower please” Mark says softly, careful to not make you cry again.

You take a deep breath, lifting your head up to see the two young hockey boys worried faces, your lip quivers slightly as you breathe in and out, ready to spill out what has been hurting you.

“I don't know, I'm just so stressed with these exams and I think I'm gonna do fine but I'm just scared.” you start, trying to get one problem out at a time 

“I know for a fact that you'll do fine in your exams and assignments” Ethan comforts “yeah! you're like the smartest person i know!” Mark chimes

“Thanks.. It's not just that tho” you say, sniffling a bit as tears continue down your face and onto your swollen lips, the taste of salt sinks into your mouth. The Hockey players stay silent, waiting patiently for you to continue. 

“Luke and I haven't really been talking and I think he wants to break up.”

 The boys share a knowing glance but say nothing. 

“And you know i've seen all the girls jack brings home, the pretty blonde girls i mean what if luke met one of them and they fell in love” you say, growing more and more hysterical as each thought processes through your head.

Logically you new Luke would never cheat but with your emotions running high you couldnt help but think that  Luke had fucked the entire female poplutation of new jersey ranging from 18-25 by now.

“And all he every talks about when we do call is stupid fucking hockey” you rise your voice slightly before looking at the boys 

“no offence” you add, placing your hands in your lap and finishing your pizza

 “ he didn't even answer my call tonight” you finish, the last sentence being muffled as you swallow your food. 

To your surprise the boys stay silent and stare at each other with Ethan looking down at his phone then back up at mark then sharing a look back to you.

“OMG SO HE IS GONNA BREAK UP WITH ME” you scream, tears streaming down your face harder 

“WHAT NO NO NO” the boys choir, eyes wide.

“Then why are you looking at eachother like that? And who the fuck are you messaging at 12o’clock at night???” you yell pointing towards ethan. 

“No-no one” ethan adds, throwing his phone away to the end of the bed.

Mark moves to sit next to you, throwing an awkward arm around you in a comforting embrace 

“missy, he's probably not gonna break up with you'' Mark adds 

“PROBABLY??” you cry 

“NONO he means he is NOT going to break up with you” Ethan interjects, throwing a pointed look at Mark “oh yeah sorry that's what i meant” Mark stuttered

You groan loudly as your head flys back onto your pillows, you bury yourself into your blanket

“Okayyy so you're tired so we're gonna get outta here” Ethan says, dragging the pizza off your bed with Mark sliding off behind him.

“Good night, Missy'' Mark says, patting your head, peeking out slightly 

“Good night!!” Ethan yells from the kitchen with a mouthful of pizza.

X

X

You wake up to the blaring sound of your alarm, you look at your phone that reads ‘7 am’ and still you have no response from Luke. You sigh and remove yourself from your bed, making your way towards the shared bathroom you have with Ethan. 

You walk down the hall and pass Mark who is sleeping soundly on the couch, you continue walking and stop by  Ethan's room, you peer in to see him sprawled out on his bed, keeping note that you should keep quiet as you get ready so you don't wake the two up prematurely.

You take time in your shower to clear your mind, enjoying the warm hug as the water runs down your back and soothes your sore neck. You recite in your head that everything will be okay and to just focus on your exam first, then worry about whatever bullshit Luke is pulling.you finish your shower and get dressed in warm attire. You pair your favourite long sleeve shirt with your fav baggy sweats and continue on with your hair and makeup. Finishing up, you leave the bathroom and are met with the inviting smell of fresh breakfast.

Walking down the hallway you are met with Mark and Ethan who have both woken up and are now stuffing their faces with every breakfast food you own.

“Good morning” you say, giggling slightly 

“Morning” Mark says, eyes still drawn to the tv 

“Heyy, do you want a bagel?” Ethan asks, walking over towards you “you're gonna need some brain food” he adds 

“Maybe not, i'm too nervous to eat right now” you say

“Hmm, are you sure? What about I make you one for later?” he asks

“Maybe next time” you say as you turn on your heels back to your room, rummaging through your cupboard you find a comfy hoodie to throw over your body to keep you warm and toasty throughout your exam. You pack up your bag and walk back out into the kitchen. You then return back to your room, retrieving your charging phone. 

“Missy, do you need a ride?” Ethan asks 

“Nah, the walk will be nice for me, good way to clear my head” you add, walking back out of your room. 

You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulders 

“Thank you by the way, for last night” you add looking back towards Ethan and Mark 

“No problemo, i'm sure you'll feel better soon” Mark says, turning his head to give you a cheeky wink 

You giggle a bit as You look back at ethan confusion still evident in your face 

“Don't listen to him, he's weird” Ethan adds as he walks towards you to give you a pat on the back “you'll do great” 

“Thank you” you say as you move out the door and towards school.

X

X

The timer blares through the room as everyone stands , making their way towards the teachers desk to send off their papers. You sit there for a minute, staring down at your paper, revising everything you wrote down. The girl beside you nudges you out of your trance as she waits for you to stand up and hand you paper i with her. All you can do is quietly walk your way down the daring stares that lead to the front of the class. You hand in your work with a deep breath and make your way back to your previous seat, ready to go home and eat your feelings. 

“How do you think you went?” the girl beside you asks as you both walk out of the room,

“Um i think i did okay, passable i hope” you responde 

“I'm sure you did great, you wrote a lot more than i did”

“Hmm how do you think you went?” you ask 

“Good.. i hope”

“You did good, i know it”

“Thanks, missy. I was gonna ask before but how's everything going with Luke? Are you gonna see him soon?” she asks

“Maybe, idk. We haven't been talking too much recently”

“Aww thats a shame well i hope all goes well”

“Yeah, thanks”

“Bye missy” she exits the conversation, making her way over to her next class 

“Bye” you add, thankful that this was the only class you had scheduled for the day.

The walk home was calming , the cold breeze blowing on your face created a refreshing cooling to your hot body as you walked through the campus, passing a couple friends and saying hi briefly before separating.

You make your way to your apartment, trudging up the stairs in a final burst of energy. Unlocking the door you walk into your heated apartment, looking down as you remove your bag, take off your hoodie and hang your keys up, not making note of the tall figure sitting on the bar stools next to your kitchen. 

You turn around and are met with Luke - your boyfriend. The man who you love. The man who's been ignoring you. 

“Hey baby” he says, standing up to walk towards you

You take a step back, anger and confusion plastered on your face 

“Well at least you have the courtesy to do it in person” you say, crossing your arms over your body, sliding your sleeves over your knuckles.

Luke looms over at you, he stares in confusion, trying to read your emotions.

“What are you talking about?” 

Your gaze leaves the floor and meets his, anger bubbling inside your stomach 

“You wanna break up?” you say bluntly, mono toned and unnatural 

“What?? No ??Why would you think that?” Luke argues, voice becoming higher and his breath itching slightly at the information that his girlfriend thinks he drove 9 and a half hours just  to break up with her.

“Are you serious? No call? no text? no nothing, not even a stupid instagram reel and you think my mind wouldn’t wander to that?” you say, stepping forward at each word, announcing your words with a spit of fury.

“I did call and I did text” Luke defends, hands slapping against his sides.

“Barely, Luke we only called for ten minutes a week and all you talked about was stupid hockey and I love hockey but that's all you would talk about. And not to mention the dry messages I mean we barely even talked like normal people, just robots with no love for each other.” you rant on, eyes feeling heavy as tears glistened in your sockets, afraid to let them fall you do your best to blink them away before luke notices.

“Missy” Luke whispers, snaking his hands to your forearms 

“I was only trying to give you space, I knew you would get stressed with your upcoming finals so I wanted to give you as much time as you needed to study. I didn't mean to be dry and unloving towards you” his voice was soothing and calm, his fingers brushing lightly on your clothed arms.

“Well it was a dumb decision” you grumble, earning a snicker from luke 

“yeah , it was and I'm sorry.” he agrees 

“So why are you here then? If you aren't gonna break up with me?”

“I was planning to come down after your finals were finished, I was originally driving in tomorrow but Ethan messaged me last night telling me to come early” 

“Oh. so that's why they were acting weird” you say, reciting the events of last night in your head.

“Yeah, Do you know why he said that?” 

“Well i was a bit emotional last night, i was crying while stuffing my face with pizza” you laugh looking back up at luke.

“Oh my, so is that why Ethan sent me 43  messages at midnight?” Luke adds, smiling to himself before pulling up his phone to show you the absurdly concerning amount of texts from the boy.

“I'll take it that Ethan and Mark were not very good at comforting you?” he says, sitting back down on the bar stool and pulling you to stand in between his legs 

“They weren't too bad , maybe not the best tho” you say, giggling slightly at the situation 

Silence fills the room for a bit before luke speaks up 

“I'm sorry I caused you so much stress, I love you and I wouldn't trade you for the world. Maybe I should try and talk to you more and not just about hockey, hm?” he speaks, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear 

“Yes please” you smile before leaning in to give him a deep kiss. You both pull away before going back in for a warm and comforting hug, swaying slightly.

“I don't know about you but i'm starving, do you wanna go get some food?” Luke asks, speaking into the crook of your neck 

“mhm, exams make me hungry and that breakfast bar Ethan snuck into my bag wasn't very filling” you add, moving so you can look at Luke once more, placing a delicate kiss on his lips 

“About Ethan, should I talk to him about how pizza doesn't solve every problem?” 

You giggle at his comment, staring softly into his muddy blue eyes before being interrupted by Ethan opening his door 

“PIZZA SOLVES EVERYTHING” he shouts just before slamming his bedroom door closed.

“He's been home this whole time?” I ask Luke 

“Who do you think let me in?” Luke chimes, smirking down at you.

wriggling out of his arms its not long till you're pulled back by a  gentle hand on your wrist 

“Wait, I  gotta ask how your exam went” Luke asks, hands sneaking around my waist and resting on my lower back.

“It went okay, i didn't give up so that's good” i say, shrugging.

“Mhm good, never give up” he says, finishing his comment by  patting my head.

Silence is left between us once again, eyes frowning as he tries to read my expression 

“I missed you, Lukey. Don't pull that shit again”

“I missed you too, and judging by how angry you were when you came home i definitely won't” he says as we both make our way out the door and down the stairs.

[lee-laurent]

Under the Radar - Matthew Tkachuk

Summary: Matthew Tkachuk elopes with his secret lover, the biggest issue... she's Luke Hughes' twin sister.

Content: marriage, secret relationship, age gap (it's legal!!), angst, unsupportive family, mentions of sex, fighting, physical violence (not between couple!)

WC: 3.45k

notes: i listened to "Archie, Marry Me" by Alvvays on repeat while writing this and "Please Please Please" cause that's how freya feels about matt here lol i've been watching the stanley cup finals and my love for matt tkachuk has grown hehe enjoy!! :D obviously idk anyone in this story personally, so it's all for the drama !!

Freya giggled as Matthew placed kisses on her exposed shoulder. She was standing in front of the full body mirror in her boyfriend's room, flattening out the silky white dress that she'd chosen for the occasion. The white silk fell mid thigh and had small slit on the left side, a small bow adorned the corseted top.

"Fuck, you look stunning, love," Matt whispered in her ear, goosbumps forming on the back of her neck.

"I just need to do my hair, then we can head out," Freya smiled, giving Matthew a quick peck as she walked into his bathroom. He followed her, watching as she took the heated curling iron and spun a piece of her dirty blonde hair around it. After finishing some loose curls and setting them with hair spray, Freya did a once over in the mirror.

"What d'you think, Matty?"

"Hottest girl on this planet," he smirked, trailing kisses along her neck.

"Stop! We've gotta get to the courthouse."

"Right, right. But after..."

"Matt!"

"We've gotta consummate the marriage, Frey."

She giggled, hiding her face in his neck. He placed a kiss to her head, spinning her around so he could admire them in the mirror. She grabbed her phone, snapping a quick mirror pic.

"That one's getting framed," she nodded, zooming on her boyfriend's face.

"Are you sure you don't want me to shave? Just for the photos?" Matt offered.

"No! The scruff is soooo hot! Jess said we have to look hot for our photos!"

"Okay, okay. Can't believe Jess knows we're getting married, but our families don't."

"We'll tell them when it's time. Plus, Jess is good at keeping secrets."

That was true. Freya's best friend, Jessica, had been keeping the couple's relationship a secret for a year and a half now. The girls had met at University of Miami two years before and had been best friends ever since.

"You got your ring?" Matthew asked, placing the small velvet box in his suit jack.

"Yes, sir! I'm so excited!"

"Me too, baby. Can't wait for you to be Mrs. Tkachuk."

"Sounds so hot when you say it," she flirted, placing a hand on his lapel.

He winked, "Sit on the bed. I'll help you with your heels."

Freya complied, bouncing as she sat down. Matt grabbed the strappy, white heels from his closet. He guided her feet into them, gently doing up the buckles. She ran a hand through his hair, fixing it the way she liked it.

"Shall we, Future Mrs. Tkachuk?"

"We shall," she giggled, interlocking their arms as they walked to the parking garage.

"And Miss Hughes, do you take Matthew Tkachuk to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the man behind the counter asked.

"I do," she beamed, holding Matt's hands tightly in her own.

"Do you, Mr. Tkachuk, take Freya Hughes to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

"You may now kiss the bride."

The couple met in a sweet kiss, not wanting it to be too long in the public courthouse.

"If you'll both just sign here and here," the man smiled, sliding the paper and pen towards the couple. "Pefect! You two are now legally married. Congratulations!"

Freya's smile was so wide, it hurt her cheeks. She was practically jumping as they exited the building. Matthew was smiling just as brightly, tightly gripping onto his wife's waist.

"Jess!" Freya exclaimed, throwing her arms around her best friend.

"There's Mrs. Tkachuk! Always knew you two would end up together, Frey. I've been telling you since we met," Jess whispered. Freya blushed, pushing her best friend.

"Let's go take some photos!" Matthew guided the girls into his car, driving them down to a small, very private park. They snapped some cute photos together, before Jess handed Freya a bottle of champagne. She shook it, spraying the alcohol all over herself and her husband. Jess got some amazing candids of the couple, especially as they met in a passionate kiss that she snapped a few shots of.

"Enjoy your wedding night!" Jess shouted, waving goodbye.

Freya couldn't stop giggling as they entered Matt's bedroom, "We're married! I'm married to the love of my life!"

"Did you chug a bunch of that champagne when I wasn't looking? Or are you just drunk on love?" Matt teased.

"Matt! We're married!"

"I know, love! Freya Tkachuk. God, that sounds so hot," his voice was gruff as he pulled her on top of him on the bed.

"I love you so much," she pressed kisses all over his face.

"I love you too, Frey. Now... shall we make this marriage official," he smirked, placing his hands on her hips.

"Any cute boys at school?" Ellen asked.

"What? No, Mom. I told you I'm focusing on my degree," Freya giggled, helping her mom to make dinner. They were at the cottage that Quinn and Jack had purchased. The Hughes family had invited the Tkachuks for a weekend and Freya was desperately trying to hide her excitement, having not seen her husband in just over a month.

"I know, I know. Just thought maybe some would've caught your eye. Who knows... maybe when Luke's friends come you'll find one of them cute."

"Mom!"

"Sorry, sorry. But, Luke told me that Dylan's little brother is single."

"MOM!"

Ellen laughed, continuing to cut up the fruit in front of her.

"We're home!" Quinn shouted, placing his keys in the bowl in the front hall. Ellen quickly wiped her hands off, running to meet their guests.

"Chantal! Keith! How've you been?"

The two families immediately started chatting away, Freya biting her lip when she saw Matt wink at her. She was pulled into a conversation with Chantal about school and if Matt had helped her out at all while living in Flordia.

"Oh, yeah. He always asks if I need anything. I even went to a few games first semester," she smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Look at that ring! So cute! Where'd you get it?" Taryn squealed.

"My best friend Jess bought it for me!" Freya lied. That was the excuse that the couple had come up with. Matt had 'bought his own ring' and 'Jess' had bought Freya's.

"It's beautiful! Could be a wedding ring!"

"Yeah. She's the best."

"You live with Jess?" Chantal asked.

"Yeah, yeah. We've lived together this past year."

"Before we get too far into conversation, let's show everyone their rooms," Ellen smiled, unknowingly saving Freya from crafting more lies.

After a dinner full of catching up, Matt and Freya sat around the fire with the rest of the kids. The adults had called it a night an hour before, but the young adults were still buzzing with excitement. Freya was clasping a seltzer between her hands, sitting between her twin and Taryn.

"No boyfriend?" Taryn asked, taking a sip of her White Claw.

"Hm? I'm too focused on school."

"Lukey's been trying to set her up with Tyler Duke, but she's not interested," Quinn snorted from beside Brady.

"He's just... not my type."

"Not your type? Tyler is like the definition of your type, Frey! Curly haired, hockey player? You'd marry him on the spot if you hadn't convinced yourself you're focused on your studies," Luke laughed.

Freya's eyes looked around the fire, meeting with Matt's, who had his eyebrow quirked.

"Tell us more about this Tyler kid," he mused, taking a long drink from his beer.

"He's a sophmore at Umich. Is madly in love with Freya and has been since I started doing hockey with Dylan. They even kissed when they were like 14."

"Luke! Stop!" Freya hid her face in her hands. Matthew looked unimpressed, chugging the rest of his beer, before cracking open another one.

"Maybe Freya doesn't like younger guys," Jack joked, making Matthew cover his smirk with his new drink.

"Can we stop talking about my love life? Please!"

"It's okay, Frey. Matt's is just as sad," Brady joked, patting his older brother on the back.

"What can I say? Baby brother got married before me, and all my hopes and dreams went down the drain," Matt retorted, staring directly at Freya. She swallowed harshly, now reaching for another drink. She couldn't do this sober.

After the awkward conversation about her love life, or lack there of, Freya was silent. She didn't want to accidentally say something to out the face that she was married at 20, especially with all the alcohol running through her system. It wasn't until the next day that things really went down hill.

Everyone was paying Quinn to get more alcohol for that night. Matt opened his wallet when a photo fell out, not noticing he fished out a ten dollar bill and handed it to the eldest Hughes. Luke bent down, grabbing the photo that had fallen on the floor. His brow furrowed as he studied the image. His sister in a Panthers jersey, her arms wrapped around a sweaty looking Matt.

"What's wrong, Rusty?" Jack laughed, "What's that?"

Luke handed the photo to his brother, who also took a moment to study it.

"Is that Freya?"

"What're we looking at?" Freya smiled, pushing her way between her brothers. Her face fell, "Where'd you get that?"

"Matt dropped it," Luke's eyes narrowed at his sister.

"Oh. Hm, that's... huh," she trailed off.

"Quinn! Come look at this!" Jack waved over his brother, who was chatting with Brady. Matt had disappeared off to the kitchen to talk to Jim.

"Why? Oh... Frey?" Quinn shot her a questioning look after being handed the photo.

"Why's everyone so upset? We're friends," she tried to smile.

"Then why's it in his wallet?" Luke sneered.

"Because... we're really good friends?" she shrugged, sounding unsure of herself.

Quinn huffed, pushing the photo into Jack's chest. He stormed off to the kitchen, followed by the rest of the kids. He harshly pushed Matt, making the taller boy stumble.

"Wow. What the hell, Quinn?" Matt turned around.

"You're fucking my little sister?! She's barely legal, Matthew! And you're fucking 26!"

"Quinn," Ellen warned, but her son didn't listen. He pushed Matt again, this time getting a shove in return.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but you need to calm the fuck down," Matt attempted to keep his composure, knowing he could easily overpower the Hughes' boy.

"Don't even pretend to be innocent! You've been sleeping with Freya!"

"Freya? What's Quinn talking about, dear?" Ellen asked, moving away from the boys.

"I- I don't know, Mom."

"Bullshit! Look at this, Mom!" Jack handed the photo over. Ellen looked it over, a confused expression covering her face. She met Freya's pleading eyes, biting her bottom lip.

The fight between Quinn and Matt was escalating. After a particularly harsh push from Quinn, Matthew tackled him to the floor. The kitchen broke out into hysterics. Everyone was shouting, telling the boys to stop. Freya had started to cry, Taryn holding onto her tightly. Even if Taryn was a little upset she didn't know about her childhood friend's relationship with her brother, she was still going to support her.

"Enough!" Jim's voice broke through the noise, he and Keith wrangled Mattew off Quinn. "Everyone in the living room, now!"

Freya stood next to Taryn, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Quinn and Luke were fuming. Jack appeared to be a bit upset, but he wasn't as protective over his little sister.

"Someone, please, explain what the hell is going on here!" Jim boomed.

"Matt's been taking advantage of Freya!" Quinn exclaimed.

"Matthew," Chantal looked towards her oldest.

"He- he's not taking advantage of me," Freya wiped her nose on the sleeve of her hoodie.

"Let's hear what Matthew and Freya have to say before we jump to conclusions," Ellen mediated.

"I-" Freya started.

"We're married," Matthew cut her off. Silence filled the room.

"You're what?!" Jim asked, anger covering his face.

"We- we got married at the end of the semester," Freya explained, more tears leaving her eyes. Taryn rubbed her back comfortingly.

"Why?! Are you pregnant?!" Chantal gasped.

"No, Mom. She's not pregnant. We- we love each other."

"She's 20!" Luke yelled.

"This... this does seem a bit sudden, Frey," Jack mumbled.

"No! Matthew and I are in love!" Freya sobbed, standing up and moving towards him. Jim stopped her before she could, handing her over to her mother.

"I think it's best you leave, Matthew," Jim sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"You're kicking my son out for being in love?!" Chantal screeched, "No way!"

"She's practically still a teenager!" Quinn retorted.

"She's an adult! And they made an adult decision. Although, I would've appreciated an invite."

"It was private, Mom. Just us at the courthouse."

"You got fucking eloped to him?!" Quinn growled at his sister. She sobbed harder, hiding her face in her mom's shoulder.

"I think it's best if we all leave," Keith sighed, patting Jim on the back.

"No! Matty," Freya cried, but Ellen pulled her back.

"Shh, love. It's okay," she cooed, running a hand through Freya's hair.

Matthew nodded solemnly. And just like that the Tkachuks were gone.

"Freya, why did you think it was a good idea to get eloped?" Jim asked, sitting across from his daughter at the table.

"I- I love him. We just... it felt right."

"We... we just would've liked to know, Frey. That's a big decision to make."

"I know, Mom. I'm sorry. We were just happy living in our own little world. We were going to tell everyone later."

"We're happy that you're happy, Freya. You just need to get your brothers to feel the same way. I'm sorry for kicking Matthew out, I just didn't want the boys to fight anymore. And it is Quinn's house," Jim sighed.

"Thanks, Dad. It's okay. I'm sure Matt understands. I love you guys."

"We love you too, Freya," Ellen smiled, pulling her daughter in for a hug.

Freya knocked on Quinn's door, getting an exasperated "WHAT?!" in response.

"It's Frey. Can we talk?"

"I'm not sure I want to," Quinn replied.

"Come on, Quinn. Hear me out."

"Fine. Come in."

Freya sat on the edge of her brother's bed, him sitting next to her. The air in the room felt thick, and it made her anxiety even worse.

"I'm- Freya, I just want to understand what your thought process was when you decided to get married to a guy you've been with for a year."

"I'm in love. Don't people say love makes you do dumb things?"

"He's 26."

"I know. But I'm an adult too. It isn't illegal. And it's not like I married some random guy. You know Matt. You've known Matt forever."

"Doesn't mean I'm happy about it. Are you sure this wasn't a shotgun wedding?"

"I'm not pregnant! We're always safe when we-"

"I don't want to hear about your sex life. Especially your sex life with Matthew Tkachuk," Quinn groaned. "But I guess I'm relieved you aren't pregnant."

"Yeah, me too," she giggled.

"Look, I'll get over this, Frey. I just need time. I'm your big brother and I'll always love you, but... I don't know how to feel about this."

"But it has nothing to do with you, Quinn. It's my life. I decided to get married."

"Nothing to do with me? Freya, you're my little sister. And you kept this secret from the whole family. I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to be pissed! Especially when you married my best friend's older brother!"

"I- I'm sorry, Quinn. I'll give you the time. But please remember that I... I am an adult."

"I know, Freya. I know. I- I love you."

"Love you too, Quinn."

"Cracking Luke isn't going to be this easy. He's really upset," Quinn sighed.

Freya entered Luke's room, "Leave."

"Luke."

"No. Leave. I don't want to see you."

"Luke-"

"Leave, Freya! I don't want to talk to you! You betrayed my trust."

"I'm not leaving, Luke."

He sat up in his bed and if looks could kill, Freya would be dead.

"Fine. You want to hear what I have to say? I'm pissed. I am so fucking mad at you. You're my twin! You... you've always told me everything! And I tell you everything! Then I have to find out through a photo that you're not even just dating Matthew Tkachuk... you're married to the fucking guy! Would've been nice to know! Like I don't know... when you started TALKING TO HIM!"

"Luke-"

"No, Freya. I don't want to hear your side of things. Leave. NOW!"

Freya returned to her room with tears in her eyes, clicking on Matt's contact and holding her phone up to her ear.

"Hey, baby. Everything okay?"

"Mom and Dad are happy for us. Quinn said he'll get over it. I don't think Jack even cares. But Luke... Luke is really mad at me. I don't think he's been this mad since I broke his Sidney Crosby mini stick when we were kids."

"I- I can come get you, love. Go for a little drive."

"I want to go home, Matty."

"Home? Like Florida?"

"Yes," she sobbed.

"Okay... okay, baby. We can do that. I-"

"Come get me."

"Okay, yeah. I'm coming. I love you, Freya."

"I love you too, Matt."

A week later, Freya felt like she could finally breathe. Matt wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back flush against his chest. He rocked them back and forth, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

"I love you."

"I love you too. You wanna get ready for bed? It's been a long couple of days."

She shook her head, spinning to wrap her arms around his neck.

"What do you want, Frey? Anything you want."

"You," she whispered, meeting their lips in a sweet kiss.

The next morning, Freya woke up to her phone ringing repeatedly.

"Hello?" she answered sleepily. Matthew groaned, rolling over and pulling her body closer to his.

"Hey, Frey! Luke's kind of miserable. D'you think you could talk to him?" Jack's voice broke through the speaker.

"Um... he said he doesn't want to talk to me."

"Who is it?" Matt mumbled.

"He's just being dumb! Frey, you're his best friend in the whole world. He's all mopey without you."

"Then he can apologize for yelling at me and then I'll think about it."

"Frey-"

"Now if you don't mind, I'm trying to enjoy my alone time with my husband."

"Ew-"

Freya hung up, placing her phone back on the nightstand. Matt sighed, throwing her leg over his hip. He buried his head in her neck, his breathing falling into a steady pattern as he fell back asleep. Freya couldn't sleep though, she just wanted Luke to accept that she was happy, why was it so hard for him?

Luke had typed the message to his sister out at least 15 times, but he couldn't find the words to describe how he was feeling. Quinn and Jack, with the help of their parents, had talked some sense into him. He understood that he had the right to be upset with Freya, but he had taken it too far. Now, he just needed his apology to seem sincere and heartfelt.

"Just tell her exactly how you feel," Jack shrugged.

"Ew, you're making it sound like I'm confessing my feelings to a girl."

Jack rolled his eyes, "Shut up, Luke. Just text our fucking sister."

Hey, Freya. I know I shouldv'e done this sooner, but the way I reacted to the news of you and Matt was immature and unfair to you. You were already feeling so much stress and I just added to that. I have the right to be a little upset, but you're right... you don't have to tell me everything. I love you, Frey. Text me when you see this

When Freya saw that text, she couldn't wipe the smile from her face. Rolling over and pressing kisses all over Matthew's exposed skin.

"Hm," he groaned, "What's got you in such a good mood?"

"Luke apologized! Everyone is happy for us!"

"That's good. Now sleep. You look exhausted, babe."

"I can't sleep now! Everything is the way I always wanted it to be!"

"Mmm, yeah. That's awesome, Frey."

"Matty! This is the best!"

He laughed, watching sleepily as she straddled his waist. He placed his hands on her hips, running his thumbs over the smooth skin.

"I'm happy that you're happy, baby."

"I'm so happy! Almost as happy as when we got married," she smirked.

"Nothing can top that."

And with that Freya leaned forward and connected their lips. Morning breath or not this was the man she loved, and now she could share him with the world.

[adore-laur]

GET MINE, GET YOURS

— your ex-boyfriend is a mechanic, and you still jump his bones on occasion ❤️‍🔥

——

2004

Heavy raindrops cascade off the roof of the mechanic shop, its metal shingles mottled with splotches of orange rust. The sight forms tight knots in your stomach as dreary storm clouds loom over the town. You stall outside for another minute, soaked pebbles crunching under the soles of your shoes as you pace near your car. 

After exhaling a quelling breath and rolling your shoulders back, you slowly walk toward the half-closed garage. Harry is running the shop all by himself this afternoon, working gruesome nine-to-fives just about every day of the week. You don't know how he does it, so you try to visit and keep him company once in a while.

Today, however, is different. The brakes on your car have been squeaking incessantly, and you know jack squat about anything car-related, so you had no choice but to ask your ex-boyfriend for help. 

Yes, your ex-boyfriend.

You would honestly rather listen to him drone on about all the intricate parts of an automobile than some wise guy who makes you feel stupid when you confusedly nod along and attempt to ask clarifying questions. Harry is much nicer about it. He simplifies terms for you while your mind drifts away to things much more interesting than the anatomy of axels and tires. For example, Harry's pink lips or the beautiful veins protruding from the backs of his hands.

You've gone to him with car problems before, but you mostly visit to hang out with him. It's never awkward since the breakup was mutual, and you are still on good terms. Plus, you find contentment in the routine of bringing him fast food and talking his ear off while he does the strenuous work. 

And so what if you still fuck him on the down-low?

There's nothing wrong with having no strings attached, especially since he gives you heavenly sexual experiences each and every time. It's not like it's a weekly thing, either. It's just that whenever you cross paths with him, it always ends up with his body hovering over yours and his cross necklace dangling above your bare chest. 

Unfortunately, you're not in the mood for that right now. The stress caused by your shitty car and having to probably pay a hefty amount of cash just to be able to safely drive anywhere has quickly turned your day sour. 

As you duck your head to enter the garage, the smell of rubber and oil instantly permeates your senses. The plug-in air freshener on the wall is doing the absolute bare minimum. Soft bass creeps into your eardrums, and a groovy R&B track plays from Harry's boombox sitting beside his reliable red toolbox. You grin and roll your eyes when you recognize the eminent growl of Christina Aguilera coming through the speakers. You're greeted with a song you'd never expect him to listen to whenever you visit. 

Turning your head to the left, you spot Harry working under a beat-up vintage Cadillac. He's lying down on a roller with his knees bent, metal clinking from whatever he's fixing. The black skinny jeans he's wearing are faded, and he's not wearing any shoes for some risky reason; only white socks cover his feet. 

"Hi, baby." Harry's voice rumbles, jolting you. You've told him to stop calling you that, but it falls on deaf ears every time. 

"How'd you know it was me?" you ask, running your fingertips across a stray wrench. 

He laughs huskily. "I can see your dirty ass sneakers from under here."

Before you can defend your mud-stained shoes, his hands grip the bottom edge of the car as he rolls himself out from underneath, revealing his face decorated with smears of grease and his long hair tied into a bun. It's been two weeks since you saw him last, give or take, and you swear he gets more physically buff each time. His biceps are practically bulging as he wipes beading sweat from his forehead, the sheened muscles filling out his grubby uniform deliciously.

You break away from your lustful trance and nod your head toward his boombox. "Stripped on cassette, huh? You keep on surprising me." 

"Is there a problem?" He slings a soiled rag over his shoulder.

"No, not at all," you reply lightheartedly. "It just isn't really a manly record to fix cars to." 

He teasingly sticks his tongue out and saunters over to you, bending down a bit before wrapping one arm around your waist and lifting you in a firm embrace. His mouth breathes warm air against your neck, and you can smell the spearmint gum he's been chewing.

"Came to visit me?" he murmurs as he gently sets you down, keeping a firm grip on your hip and hooking his middle finger through your belt loop. 

You pout and tell him, "My car is broken." 

He mimics your expression. "Yeah? What happened?" 

"I was driving home from the grocery store, and the brakes started squeaking out of nowhere." 

Harry stops smacking his gum and furrows his eyebrows. "And you drove all the way here without calling me?"

You grimace. "Please don't be mad." 

"You're not supposed to keep driving when your brakes are acting up," he says seriously. "You know better." 

"I didn't want to make you leave work," you reply, fidgeting with your hands. 

He softly tuts while flinging the rag somewhere behind him. "I would've come and gotten you if you had asked." 

You just shrug helplessly and look around the garage, admiring Harry's workspace, which completely encapsulates his personality, even though he shares the space with a coworker most days. Various cassettes are stacked haphazardly on a shelf, ranging from girl groups to classic rock to spa music for meditation purposes. He has an opened bag of organic potato chips on his workbench, the brand he always buys from the gas station just down the road. There's also a shallow pottery bowl in the corner where he puts his rings so they don't touch oil. 

He's a moody motherfucker, but you know all of his soft spots. 

"I'm guessing I'll be spending the entirety of my last paycheck on the repair," you mutter while wandering around, picking up random tools. 

Harry leans back against the car he's working on and crosses his arms. "It'll probably cost around two hundred dollars to replace the brake pad," he says. 

"What the hell?" you say incredulously. "You need to talk to your boss about lowering the prices around here." 

"I am the boss."

"Oh, that's right."

He laughs through his nose. "Negotiate with me about it, then. Convince me to lower the price." 

You stop in your tracks and stare at him, unimpressed with the upper hand he tries to have over you. "Nope. I'm not doing that." 

"Why not?" he asks. "C'mon, I'm bored out of my mind." 

You groan and stride over to stand in front of him. He's so hard to resist. "Fine. Will you please give me a discount?" 

Harry drags out a monotonous hum before plainly saying, "No." 

Standing on your tiptoes, you touch your nose to his and whisper, "Pretty please?" 

He narrows his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering against yours. "You're getting warmer." 

"I'll help you fix my car," you plead, willing to do anything to save a little money. "I'm really good at following instructions." 

"You are, sweetheart, but absolutely not." 

You frown and bury your face in his neck. He's sweaty, yet there's a hint of some pine-scented cologne coming through that drives you insane. "If I let you fuck me," you suggest boldly, leaving a slow kiss near his pulse point, "will you give me a discount?" 

Harry moves his head to look at you straight on, smiling smugly and using his teeth to stretch his gum across the tip of his tongue. "That's more like it." 

"But don't you have a car to fix right now?" you ask, feigning innocence to get under his skin. 

"Baby," he murmurs, "you can't come here and expect me to actually get work done. You're too distracting." 

You pinch his thigh through his jeans. "Stop calling me that." 

"No," he says softly. "You're still my baby." 

"Not anymore." 

"Then no discount for you." 

You scoff and step away from him. "Stop being a jerk, Harry." 

"Letting me fuck you just for a discount, hmm? Is that it?" He raises his eyebrows.

"You know I'd let you fuck me anyway," you admit under your breath. 

The muscles in his jaw twitch. "God, you give me whiplash." 

You get up in his face and say, "Yeah, well, you give me a headache."

His hand quickly reaches out to push the back of your head toward him, messily smearing his lips against yours. "I hate when you're like this," he mumbles into your mouth. "My baby's so stubborn when she doesn't get her way, isn't she?" 

You bite his bottom lip and tug on it before releasing it. "Don't want to be your baby." 

His hand gravitates toward the curve of your ass, squeezing just once. "Then tell me what you want."

"I want to be your brat."

Harry's head tilts as he visibly swallows. "Get on the couch," he orders lowly. "Face down, ass up." 

You grin, pleased to the max, and stroll over to the black leather couch in the back while Harry shuts the garage door for privacy. The screech of the lock makes you wince, and the sound of the pelting rain becomes muffled. The continuous drops on the roof match the speed of your racing heart. 

Placing your forearms on the cold, cracked leather, you bend your knees to get into position and tilt your head so your cheek rests on the cushion. Harry swiftly removes his hairband, his curls messily falling past his shoulders. Next, he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his swallow tattoos and chest hair, both slick with sweat. His cross pendant rests perfectly against his skin as he comes up beside you and leisurely trails his fingers down your spine until they reach the waistband of your low-rise bell bottoms. 

Goosebumps erupt across your arms when his other hand goes to unbutton his skinny jeans. You can see his bulge strain against the tight material, and it makes you squirm impatiently. 

"Sit still," Harry says, pulling down his jeans. His black boxers and thigh tattoo are now directly in front of you. 

You pitifully moan when he crouches and grabs your wrists to place them behind your back. "Not fair," you grumble. 

"Oh, really? It's not fair that I'm about to fuck you." 

"You know what I mean." 

Harry tugs down your pants and underwear in one go, the material bunching at the back of your knees. He then takes his boxers off, placing one knee on the cushion and lining himself up as he grips the top of the couch to stay balanced. 

"Still on birth control?" he asks, planting a quick kiss on your shoulder blade. The cold metal of his necklace against your skin sends an avalanche of chills down the length of your spine. 

You nod, and Harry immediately thrusts into you. You gasp as the burning sensation spreads like wildfire all the way to your thighs, your hands clenching into tight fists as he continuously rocks deep strokes in and out. You whimper with each one, and Harry's hand holds your hair back in a makeshift ponytail to watch every pleasurable change of expression on your face. 

"You good?" He pants while slowing down his thrusts, keeping them long and purposeful. 

"I want to touch you."

His hips pound into your backside. "Yeah? Where do you want to touch me?" 

"Anywhere, just please let me." 

"I didn't know brats begged like whores," he says, tugging your hair. 

You wiggle your fingers behind your back, trying to touch his stomach, but it's to no avail. Harry stops thrusting, his hair hanging over his face as he looks down at you. "Want it that bad?" he says in awe.

You muster up fake tears and nod pathetically to get your way. "Please, daddy." 

It always works like a charm. Harry grunts and instantly pulls out, hastily sitting on the couch with his legs spread and grabbing your waist to make you straddle him. 

You kick off your pants and underwear the rest of the way, along with your shoes, then sink down on his cock, slowly grinding on him with your hands in his hair. You want to touch him everywhere, so you rub your palms down his chest and then hold both of his hands as you arch your back and tilt your head up toward the ceiling rafters. The new position tightens your orgasm more quickly, and the way Harry is desperately moaning with his hands clutching your thighs causes heat to prickle all over your body. 

"Such a pretty brat for me, right?" Harry praises you, kissing along your jaw and down your neck. "Getting your way like you always do." 

"Mm-hmm," you hum, every grind making your stomach rub against his, all sweat and smooth skin. "Only for you." 

He nips love bites along your collarbone. "It fuckin' better be. I don't want you doing this with anyone else." 

"And what if I do?" you ask, the slickness of your arousal sticking to the inside of your thighs. 

Harry opens his mouth with a scoffed moan when you circle your hips. "Th-think I'd die from jealousy." 

The fact that you got him to stutter makes you grind faster until his jaw is clenched and he's clawing scratches on your back. "What's there to be jealous about?" 

"That they get to stuff this tight pussy, and I don't." His eyes roll back as he starts to stimulate your clit with his thumb.

Not only is he a moody motherfucker, but he's a filthy one too. 

"You're doing it right now, though," you say, and Harry nods briskly. "Consider yourself lucky." 

"But I want to be the only one." 

"I know." You suddenly choke out a moan when your orgasm approaches. "I'm gonna come, Harry. Oh, God..."

"Me too," he says, his chest heaving. "Give me a good one, baby." 

You hold onto his shoulders and tense your thighs while you release, Harry stilling as well as his hips jerk to meet yours. You feel him fill you up, and after he runs himself dry, you fall against his body from exhaustion, whining into his neck as the pleasure consumes you. His arms wrap around your waist, bringing you in for a lazy hug while his cock slowly softens inside you. 

The rain pours outside, and the ambiance calms you down while your body relaxes. It reminds you of a time when things were easier, a time without complicated feelings or unresolved issues. 

Harry abruptly begins giggling, his chest raising with each breathy laugh. You join in, but you don't necessarily understand what's so funny. You lift your head to see deep dimples carved into his cheeks and the devastatingly gorgeous crinkles near his eyes. 

Once his laughter dies down, he says, "We just orgasmed at the same time to "Beautiful" by Xtina." 

"No way," you reply, breaking into more giggles. 

Harry starts cackling as the dramatic piano ballad plays from the boombox, possibly the worst song to listen to while having sex. It's so ridiculous that tears form in your eyes and your sides start hurting from laughing so hard. 

"We also just fucked with our socks on," Harry adds, resting his covered feet on the couch and wiggling his toes.

"Sexy." 

"Super sexy. And quite comfortable." 

You smile and glance at his lips, feeling an intense urge to kiss them, but you know you shouldn't. As soft as they look, it would only make things more complicated. Well, besides the fact that you still have sex with him. You're okay with the equal exchange of satisfaction, even though the emotional boundaries seem to blur more and more each time. 

"You can kiss me," Harry whispers. 

You swallow and shake your head, playing with the ends of his curls. "That's not what we do anymore. I get mine, and you get yours, remember? That's it." 

"You let me kiss you earlier," he points out. 

"That was a different kind of kiss." 

He just makes a disappointed face and lifts your hips so he can pull out. He then stands still, holding you with one arm, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he walks over to the boombox. 

"What should we listen to next?" he asks in your ear, delicately pressing a button to remove the black and white cassette. 

You tilt your head sideways and read the names on the stack of cassettes. "Hmm... how about Time and Form: Celestial Meditation? Sounds like the perfect soundtrack for aftercare." 

Harry snorts. "Shut up." 

You laugh and dig your heels into his lower back, wanting to be even closer to his bare skin. The full-fledged urge to kiss him returns again, this time with a bizarre wave of sadness. 

You can't. He's your ex. 

It would cross the line that was never really there in the first place, but it's a faint one, and it still matters. To you, to him, and to the stakes of what you are to each other. Yet you spend days and nights lying in bed, wondering if he'll call you on the old wall phone at the shop and ask you to come over just because. Or when he tells you he missed you when you do show up, hugging you tight and thanking you for lunch. Or when he's glum and sulky to everyone else but you, his face immediately lights up when you step into the room. 

It all means something, but you'll never allow it to become more than that. Just fleeting moments make up for the emptiness you felt when you stopped being romantically involved with him. It quells the ache, but only in real-time. Afterward, you go home to the apartment you live in by yourself, wishing he could follow you there and stay with you like he used to. 

You didn't cry when you broke up with him because you knew there would still be some sort of relationship present, even though it wouldn't involve dating. That's when you both agreed to keep having sex without the strings attached; however, the buried feelings you have always seem to burst into uncontrollable flames when he touches you. You'll never admit it, though, because a purely physical relationship with him is better than not having one at all. 

It'd be a shame to lose the fire where the smoke is. 

——

[weird-is-life]

hii wondering if you could do hotch x younger!reader? where he's being insecure about the age gap and comforts him and says that she loves it and he makes her feel safe and stuff --thank you in advance!

Hii, ty for the request! I hope you like this, it's short but cute, well at least I hope it is.😅🥰warnings: angsty, fluff, pet names, age gap (reader is in her late twenties or early thirties), (0.9k)

It's your birthday next week and, if truth be told, Aaron has been kind of dreading it. Not because of anything to do with you, but because it's a huge reminder of the age gap between you two.

You've been dating for a few months now and the thought's always been at the back of his head, even if he doesn't want to admit it to himself.

And his strange behaviour gets your attention. At first you brushed if off as him being tired and stressed from work. But as he zones out around you even on his days off, you know something is up.

You are both sprawled on his couch, when you notice his mind is elsewhere. So you finally decide to ask him about what is bothering him.

"Aaron?" you call out his name.

He hums, acknowledging that he is listening, even though his eyes are on the TV.

"Can I ask you something?" this finally catches his attention, making him pause the film and look at you.

"Of course, sweetheart, what is it?"

"I just....- is something wrong, Aaron?" his face scrunches in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Is it work? Or does it have something to do with me, if yes you can tell me, because I won't mind-"

"Honey, nothing is wrong with you or work," he reassures you instantly.

"Then what is it?" you question with a slightly desperate voice.

"Nothing, everything is okay," he lies, but you see right through him. His very skilled lying from work not working, when he is with you.

"Something's been bothering you lately and we both know it," you point it out softly, even if your voice is a little bit stern. He takes one look at you and sighs, he knows, he has to tell you the truth.

"Okay, yes, you are right, sweetheart," he murmurs quietly.

"What is it?" You ask with a gentle voice, putting your hand behind his neck to play with his hair.

He doesn't know how to say it, so the words just spill out of his mouth," I don't think, it's a good idea to be together."

You look at him with so much hurt and move away from him, that he immediately wants to take his words back.

"W-what?" you puzzle, your lower lip slightly wobbling.

It takes Aaron every strenght he has not to take his words back," I mean, look at you and me, honey. You are so much younger than me, you should be dating somebody close to your age. Not somebody who already has a son. I mean, I'm not even home half of the time, what kind of boyfriend does that make me?" He is frustrated, but not because of you, never because of you, he just wants you to live the life you deserve and not waste it by being with him.

And immediately after he finishes his talk your whole face changes. You go from heartbroken to angry and you slap him on the arm (gently).

"You are being ridiculous, Hotchner," you argue. You are frowning so much at him, that in any other situation Aaron would have laughed at your expression.

"But I'm not, I'm being serious. You shouldn't be waiting almost every day for me to finally come home from work. You should be out going on dates, that you deserve, and I can't always, almost never do that-"

you put your hand over his mouth before he can continue. "Shut up, I can't believe you right now," you shake your head in disagreement,

"do you love me?"

Your question seems absurd to Aaron, because it is so obvious. "Of course, I do, sweetheart. But it doesn't change the fact-"

"But it does. You love me and I love you. I don't care, what other people say or think. And i don't care, that you aren't home as much as we would both like. But when you are, you always make it worth it, always. And I like being home with Jack, I don't even really like going out, I'd rather just be home with you guys."

"Plus, have you seen yourself? Guys around my age have nothing on you, handsome. You are too good looking to get rid of me this easily. " Your last sentence is teasing, but that doesn't mean your words are any less true.

"Really?" It's not often that Aaron feels uncertain about things as he does now. So your words are like a warm hug for him. Making him let out the breath, he didn't even realise he was holding.

"Yes, really," you scooch closer to him, caressing both of his cheeks," I love you Aaron. There is never a moment, that makes me doubt you or doubt us. What made you feel this way, huh?"

"I guess, it's always been somewhere on my mind," he confesses, as he completely melts under your hands.

"You should have said something earlier then, " you scowl at him," but I'm glad you told me now. We talk more about it later, yeah and work things out?"

"I love you," he doesn't know what else to say. He shows you his gratitude for you and your reassurance by kissing you, once, twice and more, until you loose the count of them.

There's still a little uncertainty about this for Aaron, but with you by his side, he knows, it will be okay.

[thewritingofspencerrose]

Good Mornings

Jack Hughes x girlfriend!OC

"Ja-"

"Jesus Christ, Z! Fucking knock would you?"Jack can't help but yell, body jumping and making mine jump along with his, my book falling from my hand.

"Dude, calm down, this is important," Is Trevor's response, at the very least closing Jack's and my bedroom door behind himself once he notices our lack of clothing from last night. "Also, I thought I heard something going on on my way to bed last night."

"You're right, it is super important how pervy you are for listening to my girlfriend and I have sex," Jack grumbles, pulling the quilt up on my body so that it covers more of my front, my eyes drifting up from the pages of the book to meet those of Jack's best friend, the boy looking entirely too comfortable in our presence.

"You and I both know that's not what was going on, you two are just noisy," Trev complains, rolling his eyes and making his way to plop in the desk chair in the corner of J's room, elbows on his knees and hands folded.

"Is there a reason that you're in here trying to sneak a peak of my naked boyfriend?" I can't help but groan, just wanting to return to our rare moment of peace, the ever incoming insanity of the house looming.

"I've seen Jack naked a million times, I have no interest in doing it this morning," Is the response I get, his entire being smug, earning the tossing of my book. At his head.

A kind gesture, I know.

"Hey, what the hell!"

"Should I be concerned that Z has seen you naked more than I have and we've been dating for three years?"

"I've been his best friend for sev-"

"Trev," Jack scolds, silencing the boy into a pout, although I can't focus on it too long as Jack's hand is pulling my chin towards his, kissing my lips. "Baby, you're literally laying on top of me naked right now. I don't think you're in a position to let him make you jealous."

"This is disgust- Wait is she laying on you nips out?"

"Trevor!"

"Dude you don't ask that to a woman! No wonder you're single!" Jack groans at the same time I scold Trevor for his words.

"I'm just saying - " He appeals, hands raised in a surrender, "How are you not actively a tree trunk man? Your hot as hell girlfriend is laying on you in her birth day suit and you're just laying there while she reads?"

"We had been enjoying a quiet morning until you barged in," I remind, his eyes turning to me.

"And you! You're hot -"

"Please stop there before I feel the need to hurl at the words that were about to come out of your mouth," Jack interrupts this time.

"What's to say that he's not hard as a rock?" I can't help but tease, Jack's brows hitting the ceiling as Trevor chokes on his spit.

"Ok, gross, I'm leaving."

"Bring me back my book! I want to finish the chapter I was on!" I demand, Trev tossing the book to Jack to catch as he makes his way to the door.

"We're going to pretend that this never happened, because otherwise I may be the one barfing."

"Trev, you were literally the one that barged -"

"Nope, can't hear you, see ya!" The boys calls, barely out the door and letting it shut behind himself.

Rising onto my hands, the shift catches J's attention, his eyes meeting mine.

"Yes baby?"

"You need a more normal best friend."

[wasawattpadkid]

Drunk Antics

Summary: When Billy and Stu have a little too much to drink they come to you.

Pairing: poly!ghostface (college au) x fem!reader

Warnings: Nothing really just fluff and angst. Drunk Billy and Stu

The pounding on your dorm door was bound to wake up everyone in a 5 mile radius. "What the hell-" Billy and Stu hit the floor in a heap of giggles. "Told you she was home fuckrag." A tiny hiccup could be heard coming from Stu. "How did you two even get in here?" You questioned helping the men up. "A magician never tells his secrets Y/n." Stu's words were slurred and his legs were shaky. You closed the door telling them both to sit down. Thankfully Stu listened falling back on your roommates bed. "I'm gonna be sick..." Stu groaned.

"No no no, no you're not." You grabbed a trash can running to his aid. "I'm kidding!" He giggled his hiccups getting worse. Billy tossed his hair back dancing around the room. "I was thinking of you tonight..." Stu said dragging his hand down the middle of your shirt. You laughed dryly. "Oh yeah I bet you were. You know you smell like perfume Stu." You weren't pissed just disappointed. "We robbed a perfume store." Billy laughed at his partners answer.

"Dance with me Y/n." Billy tugged at your clothes trying to pull you to him. "Babe you reek of Jack Daniels." Billy's lips made contact with your neck biting and sucking the skin he found. "Oh no, not tonight. You are both way too drunk." You pushed him back just enough to see his splotchy red face. The tip of his nose bright red making him look like Rudolph. "I didn't have near as much as he did." He pointed to the unconscious man on the bed. "Fuck." You left Billy standing to roll Stu on his side just in case.

"He'll be fine. I didn't drug him this time." You whipped your head towards your boyfriend. "What!?" You whisper yelled and he just laughed. "Kidding! If making a joke is a crime arrest me." He held out his hands connected by the wrist. "As much as I'd love to see you in handcuffs not tonight Billy, I said no." He rolled his eyes stomping his foot like a toddler. "Jesus how much did you drink tonight?"

You helped him out of his leather jacket flinging it to the side of the room. "Slow down there my girlfriend kills people." He slurred and you laughed. His knuckles were slightly bloody which is something you'd definitely have to bring up tomorrow. "We need to get you into bed." He rubbed his hands together once again thinking he was about to get lucky. He sat down on the bed letting you pull off his shoes. The next thing to go was his shirt. "You're very beautiful at this angle." When he was drunk his charm was on high. "Thanks." You didn't even bother with his jeans. "Now lay back."

Billy did as told waiting for you to climb in with him. "Where you going?" He asked his pout could be heard in his voice. "I'm checking on Stu." You sighed hating being a babysitter. "And I don't want the world to see me!" Billy loudly began singing making you jump. "Cause I don't think that they'd understand." He was your drama queen. "With everything meant to be broken." You were 100% sure those weren't the lyrics. He mumbled the next line tears now forming in his eyes. "Babe don't.. aww." He held out his arms like a toddler pulling you on top of him.

Your head laid on top of his chest as his arms squeezed you. "Promise you won't leave us." He whispered. The sound of his voice broke your heart. "Where is this coming from?" A whimper left his throat. "Just promise." You sighed. "I promise Billy." With that his heart rate slowed and he began to fall asleep. Thank God your roommate went home for the weekend.

"Y/n?" Stu whispered from the other bed. You closed your eyes preparing for more antics. "Yes babe?" Silence. "Yes babe?" You repeated. Nothing. "Stu!" You whispered gaining his attention. "Hmm?" He mumbled. "What'd you want?" You asked ready to help him to the bathroom or trash can. "I don't know you called me." You took a moment before you laughed with pity. "Your head is going to kill you tomorrow."

"If it doesn't you will." He muttered falling back asleep. "Damn straight." You smiled as you cuddled up with Billy.

[jaded-jezz]

Your American.

My first Formula One Driver story!

Obviously had to do Logan as he is my favourite. And I want to pretend that he is going to be here next year! (James better watch out).

Please do not repost, reblogs are appreciated.

Logan Sargeant X F!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (mdni 18+), kinda sub Logan I guess, annoying coworker at start, timeskip, 2.3k words. First time writing smut so don’t tell me if it’s bad!

Leah please don’t read this

Logan’s been away from you for this amount of time before but he’s not normally this clingy when he comes back. His hand has been either linked with yours or on your hip the entire night. He only let go when you had to make a speech thanking your company for another successful year.

You are finally making your way out of the ceremony hall after many awards, speeches and long goodbyes. The music from the dance floor had slowly started to drown out due to the distance you had walked and the whispers from Logan in your ear.

“Hey Y/N, I missed you all night!” Jack, your colleague shouts. You and Logan sigh in sync. Jack is that guy at work who nobody likes yet he seems to think he’s the company favourite. Since the day you started your job, he’s never left you alone. Even after you and Logan went public he would still sit next to you and talk about himself every lunch break.

You think about speeding up but it’s very obvious the couple can hear him as the entrance hall is completely empty.

“Hi Jack.” You grimace and turn to him as Logan grips your waist harder. “We were just leaving, it’s getting quite late.”

“Without saying goodbye to me?” He pouts. I feel Logan shake as he tries to suppress a laugh due to the fact that there is a grown man pouting like a two year old in front of us. “Irish goodbyes are the quickest.” I respond as politely as possible, turning into Logan’s grasp hoping to leave.

“Well I actually needed to talk to you about your final hand in for the year… and by that I mean you need to do more” he laughs, as if it’s going to make everything ok.

“More? Mrs Randall said my work was fully complete and the best of the company. I’m not doing more unless she tells me!” I snap back just wanting to leave and relax with Logan due to the fact that it’s his winter break too.

“Yes, exactly the boss says yours is the best. So I need you to do mine! I’ll email it all over- oh actually I’ll just come over tomor-“

“No mate it’s our time off now.” Logan steps in realising how tired you are of Jack and his antics. “Cmon Y/N/N let’s go home.”

“You don’t have to listen to the American, be the independent woman that I know you are” Jack pokes, as if he’s trying to anger your boyfriend.

Yet that last remark is the final straw for you, you’d had enough.

You reach up to your American, grab him by the face and pull him into you. Your lips don’t have to fight for dominance as Logan knows you want to make Jack as uncomfortable as possible. If his eyes weren’t closed, they’d be rolling to the back of his head due to the pleasure that your possessiveness gave him.

Logan knew how annoying Jack was for you, and how often that you’d turned him down or made it obvious you were not interested so he’s never thought he’d be grateful for Jack’s perseverance (if you could even call it that). And, weirdly, in this moment he’s never loved kissing you more.

Quiet, desperate whimpers arise from the couple and Jack finally takes the hint and moves away, occasionally looking back hoping that you’d follow him still.

“Babe your anger is turning me on so much right now, can we go?” Logan pulls away, whispering quickly before being drawn back into your taste. You break apart giggling and gently push his face away from yours before he reconnects his hand around your waist and walks with you to the car park.

During the car ride back, you calm down listening to the soft radio and hearing murmurs of Logan talk about your actual work friends.

“Y/N are you there sweetheart?” Logan’s inquiry brings you back. His hand on your thigh brings a redness to your face, you’ve missed his touch. How can someone be so hot by just driving with one hand?

“Yes sorry, I was just trying to get over Jack being a dick.” You roll your eyes at the memory. “I mean seriously who does he think he is? I’m gonna write an email and-“

You are cut off by Logan gently turning your face towards his. The car had been parked in front of your home for a while but you hadn’t noticed due to your ranting. “Baby, I know how much you love to write emails but let’s forget about him until January yeah? Tonight I just wanna be with you and hear only positive things please.” His eyes soften as you relax into his palm.

After a quick peck, the blonde rushes out of the car to open your door before holding your hand all the way into the house. Once inside he carefully drops to his knees to remove your shoes and puts your bag on the side before standing up again.

The silence is thick with tension as you stare at each other, only a mere metre away, waiting to see who breaks first.

You both give up as you violently embrace each other in a sloppy make out session. Walking backwards, you drag Logan by the tie into your bedroom and push him onto the bed.

Logan wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you in between his thighs. He looks up at you through his eyelashes “Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” You try to wiggle out of his grasp in a blushing mess but he pulls tighter. “Everyday I am grateful to wake up knowing I am yours.”

He slowly rises, kissing up your arms, across your collarbones and to your neck finding that one spot that makes you whine for him. His hands make quick work of undoing your dress and he lets it drop to your ankles. Logan’s eyes rake up and down your body in a surprisingly wholesome way. You have never felt more loved than now. Even being basically naked here makes you feel warm.

“Logan…Please” you try to say in a demanding tone but Logan doesn’t notice as this is all it takes for the blonde’s lips to be back on yours, it feels like he’s trying to slowly consume you and you are already so far gone you might let him.

You claw at his shirt trying to pull it up and unbutton it, until he eventually helps. Running your fingertips up and down his abs, Logan lets out a breathy whine as your nails catch every so often. He grabs your hands to stop you and gently lets them drop as he removes his tie, giving you a look.

Without a second thought, you’ve tied his wrists above him on the headboard and you are straddling him, mouths reconnecting with no intentions of breathing at all.

“Use me,” Logan whispers.

It startles you. He’s never acted like this before. Sure you’ve been on top before but he was still kind of in charge. “Fuck out your anger sweetheart.” He looks into your eyes with full trust, confidence and honesty.

A wave of confidence floods your system as you start to grind down lightly on his crotch. A light gasp comes from the man as he already forgets about the tie and tries to grab your hips. You ignore his struggle and nip at his neck like he did to you only a few moments ago. Marking him more and more as you move down his chest.

You carry on your trail nipping and marking, kissing and licking until you reach his belt. You haven’t stopped grinding against his lap until now, you reach for his face. This time, the kiss you share is filled with love and passion. As you pull away Logan tries to follow, not wanting to leave your orbit but you push him down. “I love you Logan.” You say.

You hastily reach for his belt before looking up to see an impatient look grow in his green eyes, not wanting to tease either of you for any longer you finally undo his trousers.

You were surprised that either of you lasted this long tonight due to how much Logan had teased you before leaving the house.

*Four Hours Earlier*

“Logan are you dressed?” You ask before walking out of your room trying to find the blonde man.

“Damn!” You hear the American whistle behind you as you spin to see him lounged out on the sofa. “Yeah I’m dressed, but I wish you weren’t” he winked at you as he got up and made his way towards you.

“Is it ok? I have time to change!” You start to panic as you overthink your outfit. “No Y/N” Logan lunges towards you with a worried look “I meant you look hot,” He cups your face with one hand and grabs your palm with the other. “You look more than hot but I’m not really smart enough to think of any more words. You’ve actually left me speechless!”

You laugh together, holding hands, looking into each others eyes. You want to stay here forever but you both know that this end of year ceremony is important for both your team and yourself as you have been selected to win an award and make a speech.

Logan sees the realisation set in but knows exactly what to do to take your mind off of it. With one hand around your waist and the other still holding yours, he starts to sway you and hum. Very badly.

You screw up your face as you try to work out the song he is attempting but it makes him laugh and the humming is lost to his chuckles. “Your speech is both on your phone and printed in your bag. I also have a spare in my pocket. Please breathe Y/N, I can’t have you passing out before we get there!” He places a kiss to your temple as he pulls the printed copy from his pocket, placing it back and patting it for safekeeping.

*Now*

You sit bare and start to move back and forth on his hard cock while Logan writhes and moans above you, wordlessly begging for you to put him out of his misery. Your nails trace his abdomen and thighs again in a soothing manner before you sit above him to run his tip from your clit downwards. You sink onto him slowly, quick breaths and moans leave the pair as you grab at his hips and the bed sheets. Anything to keep you steady.

“You feel so good, Logan” you look into his eyes, you can see the lust pouring out of the green irises. “Don’t stop Y/N, I’ll do anything- just don’t stop.”

You can feel him getting close. You cant take it anymore, and you can tell that if you wait any longer- Logan will snap the headboard. So you hastily reach up and remove the tie from his wrists. You go to stroke the red marks in an apologetic way but Logan is too fast. He grabs your face and pulls you in for a passionate kiss before running his hands across your body pulling shivers from you previously missing his absence.

He holds your waist as you place your hands on his face and shoulders, bracing yourself. He bucks up into you creating a consistent rhythm bringing you closer and closer to the high you’ve been chasing.

“Y/N, baby, I’m so close. Please.” He whines into your neck before biting down at you again to attempt to conceal the uncontrollable noises.

“Let me hear you, honey, you’re being so good for me” You gently pull the hairs at the nape of his neck.

A wet line of unshed tears lines his eyes as he is pulled back. Tears of both pleasure and frustration as he just wants to release into you.

“Come.” You whisper into the air, so quietly you don’t know if your boyfriend has heard. But his actions speak louder than words as his hold on you tightens and his strokes become harder.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾༓･˚⁺‧͙

After a few moments of comforting silence, Logan moves you to lay on your back and he moves to hover over you. “Let me clean up the mess we made.” He says as he holds strong eye contact with you.

He lowers himself back down to your dripping pussy and gets to work. His tongue is pulling obscene noises from you as he slurps and strokes against your core, his nose occasionally bumping at your clit. Your hands reach for his hair and he knows you’re close once again.

His hand reaches up and two fingers are pushed into you, pumping as he continues to eat you out. Your breathing has quickend, your body is getting hotter and your ears are starting to ring as you get closer and closer to orgasming.

He desperately wants to taste you and his moans vibrate through you making you wetter at his begging.

With one final tug of his blonde strands, your back arches and you come with so much pleasure your vision only shows white.

Your eyes flutter shut from exhaustion and Logan slowly moves away and into the bathroom to retrieve a damp cloth to actually clean you. He pulls you in close under the covers of your bed and strokes your hair, whispering sweet nothings into your ears as you fall into deep sleep together.

My first F1 and smut wow

Requests are open as always and I will be making a list of who I write for being both drivers individually and different fandoms.

Please do not repost, reblogs are appreciated.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.3

John having to get high out of his mind because he knows he's invited Paul to come play with him is so so sad. These are the same guys who used to sit facing each other on a bed playing guitars for hours, and now this is them?

Is John calling Paul “Jack Lemon” a reference to “some like it hot”? Because if so, I have questions. Anyway, when your estranged best friend shows up to hang out with you and a bunch of people, talking about being in love again and getting jizzed on is extremely normal and acceptable behavior.

This jam session is so fucking painful though. Paul's doing his best to just push through and get them to actually play something and John's just too far gone.

My theory: there's two reasons he did this. 1. He's avoidant and the last thing he's going to do is let on how bad he needs John in his life and how scared he is that if John gets back with Yoko that that'll be difficult. And 2. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't. If he'd kept it from John that Yoko wanted him back and later John cried to him about how much he missed Yoko or something? Paul can't have that.

John singing a snatch of Yesterday before a take of “Whatever gets you through the Night”??? Did either of them ever write a song where they weren't thinking about the other? Did they ever have a minute of peace without the other rattling the bars of the cage in his brain?

“Hold me Darling, come on, listen to me. I won't do you no harm.” Duh it's about Paul. Oh my gosh.

And with Bless You I'm always so torn. There are so many obvious references to Paul which the doc points out beautifully, but situationally it could also be about Yoko. Maybe it's about both of them in the same way that don't let me down is about both of them.

Anyway the cosmic visuals are gorgeous.

Why'd you have to phrase it like that though? Twice?

Hall of Fame moment. It's a high point for him career-wise and he chose to pull Paul into his spotlight. Not only to sing Paul's song, not only to name-drop him, but to publicly call him an official romantic title. Not “boyfriend” or “ex-wife” which both could've been much more mocking if that's what he was trying to do. But “fiance”. It's official and respected, but it's still got the lustful, unsettled, connotation that something like “husband” lacks.

Johann Weener, everyone. What a loser.

Everyone who still refers to Lennon Remembers like it's the fucking Bible listen to this. It doesn't go on for the next five years, let alone fifty.

John refusing to walk to blocks to sign the papers when George and Paul flew over the ocean. And only on the basis of astrology. He really didn't want the divorce. My heart aches for him. But he made his bed as they say.

I'm putting on my tinfoil hat again here, but I do just have to point out that one of John's first songs, “Hello, Little Girl,” has a line that goes, “you never seem to see me standing there”. And the earliest draft of WISHST, which was started soon after, answers that line. “I saw you standing there.” (Yes, it said you originally, not her). So maybe. Just maybe. That song wasn't just a Paul song, but a song that John knew Paul had put a message in for him. Okay, I apologize for the insanity. On another note, I do wonder if he ever found out what Paul thought of that.

Interviewer: ≈ at this point, do you like writing by yourself, or do you want to write with Paul again?≈ John: ≈well it's a bit of both. It's the same for Paul. We were talking about it a week ago. Okay, cool. So they definitely talked openly and honestly about potentially writing together again.

John, about their partnership, “There was always the feeling that someone was there if you needed it.” Paired with the gayest picture ever taken and then Paul singing “if I can do anything at all, let me help.” Thanks. I hate it.

John was so excited for New Orleans! What happened? I mean I have my theory based on May's book and the sudden shift in behavior. But it's pretty dark.

You know how crazy Paul is about John in interviews now? How he can't seem to keep John's name out of his mouth? John was worse in the seventies. He's promoting his Rock’n’Roll album, talking unprompted and romantically about how he met Paul, when the interviewer reminds him what relationship he's supposed to be romanticizing right now. So John remembers too and dedicates the album to Yoko who he's just got back together with.

Biconic quote.

Interviewer asks, after John's brought him up, if John's pleased with how well Paul's doing. John expresses his relief that Ringo has "found himself a niche" and then

I really do think that last bit sums up a big chunk of how John feels about Paul, and why he feels alright playing dirty against Paul or slagging Paul off. Why it would have been the furthest thing from his mind that Paul actually struggled or was insecure. Why Paul had to remind him, “I'm only a person like you, love.”

What an insane thing to think, let alone say. What if Julian had heard that? I'm pretty sure Julian and Paul weren't in contact, really at all, until the eighties, right? So John's doing better than he is at this point (I mean he's his dad, he should be). John is insecure about every possible thing and compares himself to Paul in every possible way.

Baby. He needed some serious help. The thing that sucks about being ahead of your time is that you also have to live in a world that's behind your needs.

And then. “There's always a friendly tv channel to turn to that's going to make you feel less alone.” I wonder if Paul “Call Me Back Again, John I know you're not that tired from the baby just let me in the fucking door” McCartney heard this? It's possible with how obsessive they were, but it's also impossible with how busy he kept himself.

Okay, here's the first story we've been missing about Paul experiencing negative emotions. And, of course, as always in this doc, it's paired perfectly with “Don't Let it Bring you Down” which is the musical mission statement of Paul's clenched-jawed smile philosophy.

"I tend to get a bit absolute in my statements." Yes, John. Yes you do. Another quote that Big Lennon fans should keep in mind.

John on the three weeks he took to decide if he wanted to continue the band after the first Hamburg trip: The others were mad because we could've been making money. Yeah, John, Paul suddenly had to work in a factory after he'd thrown away an educated, white-collar career (the first in his family) to be in your band. I'd be pissed too if you just didn't even bother to call. Anyway I just hate how casual John is about it. Someone who never had to worry about money is just never going to get that.

John doesn't even remember a ballpark number of how much they were making. Paul remembers exactly bragging to his professors that he was making fifteen a week in Hamburg. Sorry to go on and on about this right before Paris, but to me it's an important difference between them.

Anyway, the fact that Paris was more than just a vacation for them. The fact that – according to Stuart and John at least – they might not have come back. It's dizzying. They really thought about just running off together. I wonder what made them decide to come back and continue the band.

No offense if you do, but I don't personally believe in this stuff. What would the motivation have been for the tarot reader to tell him that? Either way, fuck him.

Gosh the live version of “Call Me Back Again”. You feel it, physically, how bad he wants this phonecall. And the desperation from such a successful man is fantastic. Literally, John, how did it feel to be the only man in the world that could get Paul McCartney to beg? “Pretty baby” “what can I do?” “Boohoohoo babe.” “I tried the operator, but I just can't get through.”

Reporter at the Wings over America tour: No John Lennon, no George Harrison, and no Ringo Starr, just Paul McCartney. And for everyone here tonight, that seemed to be plenty! Obviously he's loving this praise after all the negative press. Anyone would, and Paul needs it more than most people actually. But I bet part of him is like “stop. Don't say it like that, they already hate me enough as it is.”

How many times has John admitted that he finds Paul attractive? “It was no surprise, you know, when the kids – girls saw him, they go ‘ooh! Ooh!’ right away, you know?”

“I know it's true. It's all because of you.” Playing over this? Are you kidding me? Anyway I've never seen the picture version of this, so I thought I'd screenshot it.

But actually, in a way, the original written lyrics to Now and Then are less depressing than what he sang on the demo. “I know it's true, I'm still in love with you, and if I make it through, it's all because of you,” is obviously sad because they're both married to other people. But at least in that version, John's saying his own personal resilience to life's struggles comes from his relationship with Paul, which is nice. Whereas when John, who is sliding into a self-hating deep depression I'm comparing himself to Paul's phenomenal success, sings “it's all because of you” in a general sense, it almost feels like a callback to the ‘I'm shit and I couldn't do anything but be a Beatle (and ride Paul's boat)’ quote. Which is heartbreaking. I wish he could've recognized his own genius.

But yeah either way it's enough to make your heart heavy. If anyone needs a good cry, just go to the last five minutes of this. That should've been the now and then music video, but Paul's too scared of feelings. Which. You know. Considering how much it affects me, I can't even imagine how much it affects him. So he gets a pass.

“Why must we be alone? It's real love. It's real.”