#BECAUSE HOW COULD IT HAVE BEEN ANYTHING ELSE??

[readwritealldayallnight]

Comatose Confessions

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 4k words

warnings/tags: fluff

Part two to this

He’s barely moved a single inch in the last hour

Though he blinks every so often, his eyes never once stray from where he’s held his gaze so steadily this entire time, as focused as any trained sniper could ever hope to be

Sat on his bed, back against the wall and stiff as a statue, he watches as the faint light creeping in under the crack of his door shifts every so often, the shadows outside refusing to stand still

He knows it’s you

As perfectly silent as you are, he can still see the shadow of your boots pacing back and forth, back and forth, again and again, just outside his room

You know he’s inside

And he knows that’s why you refuse to leave, annoyingly stubborn in your pursuit, determined in your efforts to get the man inside to put an end to his charades

He knows you won’t leave until you get what you want

And what you want, is for Ghost to stop avoiding you

He’s been very carefully, very intentionally avoiding having to speak to you

He can’t bring himself to do it

He just can’t

Not since he’s woken up

Not since his head felt worse than it had in a very long time, mind swimming through a heavy fog in an attempt to fight his way back to consciousness, his entire being had felt shaken to its core and thrown off its axis, his blood running cold with the unmistakable chill of pure, unadulterated fear, not too far off to how he’d once felt waking up with the taste of dirt in his mouth, buried six feet under ground

Only to be jolted into a startlingly opposite reality when he suddenly was able to smell that achingly familiar, enrapturing fragrance he’d come to associate with a certain someone, could somehow feel miraculously soft, gentle fingertips smoothing along his neck into his goddamn hair, an affectionate touch he’d only felt fleetingly as a young boy, and when he’d opened his eyes, he was certain he’d somehow snuck his way past the gates and into heaven

Because above him had been you, and though the light glowing around you burned his tired eyes, you remained a vision so beautiful to behold he could never dream of shutting his eyes ever again, could not help but to instinctually reach out to grasp you, should you vanish before him and he lose the chance to ever hold you, at least once

His brain was still pounding, insistently throbbing as it shocked itself back awake, fighting to take control back as his lips suddenly said the only thing that both his mind and heart could agree upon at this moment, looking up at you:

“Love.”

It was nearly an entire day later, following a flurry of you being whisked out of his room, doctors and nurses fussing over him, his mind and body slowly beginning to feel more like his own again, when Soap came to visit him and all too happily recounted to his Lieutenant what he’d supposedly said upon waking up from his days long coma

After the doctors released him from the med bay or rather accepted that the Lieutenant was going to leave when he wanted to whether they liked it or not, they’d given strict instructions for at least a fortnights rest, wanting to allow his brain enough time to truly recover, concerned that though everything else was checking out fine, that short bout of confusion upon waking could not be looked over when it came to head injuries

Confusion

Is that what they all thought it had been?

He couldn’t exactly blame them, he felt he’d done a more than phenomenal job of hiding the true nature of his feelings for you from anyone and everyone, making it appear as though he was nothing more than indifferent to your existence, far from someone he’d be relieved to see waking up in a hospital bed

No, he’d been far from confused when he’d insisted to anyone who would listen, not caring that anyone’s ears but your own would hear his words spoken with the utmost sincerity, when he called you his girl, his love

No, if anything that was the most honest Ghost had been in a long time

At least since you’d worked your way into his life and apparently his heart along the way

But now, nearly two weeks passed since he’d woken up and admitted to you in his vulnerable state of mind his true feelings for you, after months of carefully avoiding ever letting you know how he felt, months of keeping his distance in hopes of diminishing the gravitation pull he felt whenever you were near, and he couldn’t bring himself to face you

He can’t decide whether it’s a small mercy or not that in the fog of waking up and all the chaos that ensued, that he can’t recall seeing your reaction to his words, can’t remember seeing the look on your face when he admitted the words he would have preferred to have been buried with than to profess out loud to you

A blessing, in that he doesn’t know whether your face twisted up into a look of horror or disgust at his revelation, and a curse, in that he’s had days upon days holed up in his room, imagining every other possible reaction you might have had

Since his release from the med bay, you’ve come knocking at his door, he knows you’ve been asking around base for him, have tried to run into him during those few fleeting moments he trudges to the mess hall and back

Why you’re so determined to confront him, he can’t be sure

To laugh at him? Rub it in his face?

He doesn’t think so, it’s not something he believes you’d so, but then again he’s never had his entire heart held in a pretty birds hands before, especially when he’d never intended to hand the bloodied, somehow still beating thing over in the first place

Maybe you feel sorry for him, hope to let him down easy, or even pretend as though you never heard him in the first place, he’s not sure which would hurt him most if he’s honest-

None of those excuses feel right however, with the way you’ve been seeking him out so persistently, opposite to the neutrality the two of you had less than half a month ago, and so always more at ease in the certainty of his own misery, rather than the misery of uncertainty, he remains hidden from you

Fuck, he hopes you haven’t been speaking to Johnny too much

When he notices your steady back and forth pacing suddenly come to a halt with the shadows indicating you’re stood directly in front of his door, the only movement Ghost allows is the slightest quirk of his scarred eyebrow, gaze intent on where he imagines your form stands just beyond the thick plank of wood separating you

He’s holding his breath, wondering what your next move will be in this childish game of cat and mouse he’s roped you into, when he hears the slightest shuffling from outside, a crinkling sound accompanied by shadows moving about under the door, followed by the sound of your boots echoing away from him and down the hall

It takes him nearly another ten minutes before he dares to move again, already beginning to berate himself for the way he’s behaving like a frightened child, when his eyes lock in on the anomaly on his floor

The sun was just beginning to set when he’d dared to venture out to the mess hall and back to his room quickly, hoping it was the best time to avoid most everyone including you before they ran out of decently edible grub, only just slipping into his room and shutting the door behind him when he’d glanced down the hall and locked eyes with you turning the corner

Now more than an hour passed, the sun long gone and his food cold and untouched, he notices something that wasn’t there before

Slowly, Ghost approaches his door, bending down to a crouch to examine what’s been slipped so carefully underneath the thin seam of his door

A single cigarette

He huffs a silent approving hum, bringing the death stick up to his mask covered nose to smell the bad habit he hasn’t touched in a few days

In all his efforts to avoid running into you, he’d quickly gone through the packs he kept in his room, only daring to smoke them out of his own ajar window like a goddamn teenager hiding the smoke from their parents

He’d smoked his last one a handful of days ago, and had yet to pick up a new pack, his years long addiction to nicotine apparently coming second to his need to continue avoiding you, no matter the cravings he felt

Now however, holding the smoke between his calloused fingers, he finds himself too relieved to begin the logical train of thought that should accompany such a gift from you being slid under his door

Fetching his lighter out of his desk drawer, Ghost steps towards his window and cracks it ajar enough that he can lean his upper half out, prepared to enjoy his cig in peace

What he isn’t prepared for however, as he inches his balaclava up above his crooked nose and begins trying to spark the lighter to life, is for the flames to be reflected back at him through your very own eyes staring up at him, stood directly below his window

“Hi Ghost.” You whisper up to him with amusement, the faint quiver of your lip giving away the mischievous smirk threatening to push through the darkness of the late night hour

You’re quicker than he expects you to be, almost as though you anticipated what his next move would be, when you reach out to squeeze your hand between the window and the pane, just as Ghost hurries to shut it

“What the fuck do ye think you’re doin’?” The Lieutenant growls out, hoping to stall for time as he recomposes himself, internally shaking his head at himself for falling for your trick. Leaving him a damn cigarette like a taunt and waiting beneath his window for him to smoke it was purely childish on your part, but then again, he hasn’t exactly been the most level headed soldier on base recently either he supposes

“Apparently what I have to do to get you to acknowledge me.” You reply casually, refusing to budge your hand away from where it prevents the window from shutting you out. “How long are you planning on avoiding me? Hm?”

“You’re bloody mental if ye think tha’ I-” He cuts himself off with the sharp glance you throw his way, a look that easily reads ‘are you fucking kidding me’ even in the low light illuminated across your features. “Alrigh’, fine. You’ve got me. Your grand plan was to hide ou’ here, like some bloody lunatic, wait for me… and then what? You plannin’ on climbin’ in through the fuckin’ window next?”

Fighting for the upper hand in this situation, Ghost watches as you take a deep breath, eyes quickly scanning the length between the ground and the windowsill, where you’re struggling to keep your hold while stood on tip toes

“Well I was hoping you’d invite me in by now. But I’ll do what I have to.” You decide confidently, raising your chin up high as you hold his gaze, refusing to back down now that you’ve got him in front of you. You must see something in him that puts a slight dent in your resolve however, as he watches your eyes soften ever so slightly, and you begin to shift on your feet. “I just want to talk to you, Ghost. Can’t we at least just do that?”

He fights the urge to grind his teeth as he clenches his jaw, shifting his eyes away from you as he struggles to maintain his composure seeing you standing there bathed in moonlight, a look of genuine sincerity on your face as you plead with him to be reasonable

“Fucking fine. But you’re using the bloody door. Don’t need you causing a scene out ‘ere.” He relents, pulling his hand back from the window pane.

“You promise to let me in?” You ask, hesitating before you release your grip on the glass. He peers back down at you, taking his own steadying breath before he offers a curt but steady nod in your direction. “Good, because my next move was going to be to pull the fire alarm, and that would’ve just been so much more of a mess.”

With that little revelation, he watches your hand slip away from the glass as you tip toe along the edge of the barracks, finding your way back inside. He scoffs to himself as he shuts the windows firmly, shaking his head at your antics as he stares solemnly at the unlit cigarette still pinched between his fingers

What the fuck has he gotten himself into?

Your fist has barely finished its first knock on his door before he’s swinging it open, reaching a large hand out to grip you by the waist and pull you inside before he has the chance to change his mind about this whole thing. He peers his head quickly around the corridor to make sure no one caught sight of anything before shutting the door behind you both, sealing him in with the last person he thought he’d find himself with tonight

He releases his hold on you as quick as he can, taking a large step backwards to put space between you both, eyes raking in the sight of you pressed up against the back of his door, an image he’s pictured many times before in his head but never believed he’d truly ever lay his eyes upon

He watches your own gaze hesitantly sweep around the space quickly, taking in the sparseness of the room. What he wouldn’t do to be able to take a peek into your mind, especially right now

“How’s your head feel?” You ask quietly, eyes shifting back towards the masked man’s visage as he clenches and unclenches his fists at his side. The only answer you get from him is a grunt you’ve heard from him often enough to know translates to ‘fine’. “Soap was telling me that if the docs clear you this weekend you’ll be able to start easing back into work.”

Ghost simply watches as you watch him, slowly lifting one foot before another, cautiously making your way over to his small desk and easing yourself down into the chair, all the while keeping him in your sight, as though he were a wild animal you might spook with one wrong move

“I’m sure they’ll pass you, but between you and me,” you add, leaning back slightly in the chair as a shadow of a smile crinkles in the corner of your lips. “I’d help you forge the docs signature if we had to. I’ve had my fair share of Soap, I’m ready to pass custody back over to you.”

At this, Ghost can’t help the soft chuckle that slips out, watching as the hesitant smile on your face forms into a full fledge smirk at the sound of his approval. With the tension in the room slowly beginning to dissipate already, he dares to allow himself to take his own atop his bed, opposite to you. Still though, he can’t completely let go of the nerves running through him, knowing you’re likely moments away from confronting him.

“You wanted to talk, let’s talk.” His deep voice rings out in the small space, hoping to cut straight to the chase, get this over with

“Right,” he watches you fidget in your seat, eyes leaving his for a moment as you begin to fiddle with your jacket pockets. “Listen Ghost, I- I realize that I might have heard something you didn’t necessarily want me to know.”

‘Yeah, that’s putting it fucking lightly’ he thinks to himself, but allows you to go on with whatever speech you’ve obviously prepare, hoping you’ll at least be quick in your rejection of him, and that this can soon all be a thing of the past

“And I figured if we were going to talk, it would really only be fair to level the playing field, so to speak.” He watches with veiled curiosity as you fish something out of your jacket. In your hands you hold a small, but clearly well loved notebook

“How’s that?” He questions, nodding towards the item in your grasp

“I don’t think I have to swear you to secrecy here but, I used to write in journals a lot, when I was little. Don’t really keep up with it as much anymore, you know how busy we are.” You mention, pulling the strap down from across the front cover and opening the book, fingers sifting through the pages covered in handwritten words of ink and lead. “Every once in a while I’ll write something down, if it’s memorable. But mostly I jot down my uh, well my more embarrassing stories.”

“Why would ye do tha’?” Ghost questions, eyebrows furrowing as he tries not to decipher any of the words he sees on in your book, unsure where this is all going

“Honestly,” you say with a small, airy chuckle. The Lieutenant ignores the sudden feeling in his chest cavity as he comes to the conclusion he’s never seen you smile so often, at least not so up close and personal. “Reading them back makes me feel better. They make me laugh. Especially after a long day or hard missions. Nice to come back to and remind myself not everything in life has to be so… serious, I guess.”

You offer a casual shrug, still thumbing between pages as Ghost takes in your words.

“Anyways, I just thought that, maybe you’d want to hear something I would usually never tell anyone. Make us a little more even?”

He narrows his eyes at you slightly, understanding now what it is you’re trying to do.

He slipped up that day when he woke up from the coma, accidentally made himself vulnerable in front of you and said something he wish he hadn’t, something he’s embarrassed about

And so here you are now, offering to be vulnerable in front of him instead, to grant him access to some of your embarrassing moments and thoughts, level the playing field as you had put it

Yeah, he’ll bite

Again, he offers you no more than a subtle nod in your direction to communicate his agreement, but the way your eyes lights up at this response, you’d think he would’ve just agreed to make you Captain for a day

“Thought maybe we’d start easy. How about the time I accidentally spit my gum out on my CO’s boots? Or when I peed myself during basic-”

Ghost isn’t sure how you’ve done it, whether you knew this was how your cunning plan would work out all along, or if you’ve just gotten incredibly lucky tonight, but as one embarrassing story on your part turns into two, and then three, and suddenly hours have gone by, the stoic Lieutenant finds himself smiling with you, laughing with you, fuck he even starts offering up his own carefully curated stories when you pull an almost full carton of cigs out of your other pocket and toss them to him, the two of you sharing remarks over a shared smoke, hunched over the same window he nearly slammed in your face earlier

“Oh man,” you choke out in small fit of giggles, your hand holding your sides as you pass the cigarette back to him. “We oughta put all your dad jokes down on paper one day, you know why? Because they’re tear-able.”

He rolls his eyes as he takes a deep inhale off the cig, pretending the corners of his mouth haven’t been lifted nearly all night.

“Tha’ was awful.” He mutters, sparing you a side glance before he adds, “A real pun-ishable offence you jus’ committed there.” He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk anymore when your giggles grow louder at that.

“Alright, alright. I suppose my pun-ishment then,” you say between breaths, casting him a glance to see if he approves of yet another one of your corny puns tonight. “Would be to read these last few pages.”

He watches as your fingers dance across the handful of pages making up the end of the journal, yet to be read aloud tonight, your movements appearing hesitant for the first time this entire interaction.

Part of him feels the urge to tell you whatever it is, it’s not necessary, that you don’t have to read anymore about yourself that you don’t want to

Another part however, is far too curious, far too intrigued to know more about you, having learned more tonight from your own lips than he has in all the months he’s known you

“Actually, maybe I’ll just have you read it this time.” You say, reaching the journal out towards him, allowing him that one final glimpse into your personal thoughts. With a calloused palm, he takes the book from your hand, careful not to linger too long on the soft touch of your digits against his rougher ones. Glancing down at the words written haphazardly across the lined paper, he reads:

‘First week with the 141 went by in a blur, don’t think I’ve ever sweat so much on a base before, those men sure know how to train’

‘Captain is nicer than any other CO I’ve had before, and the Sergeants are funny, very welcoming’

‘The Lieutenant is… different’

‘Not bad different (though he might not say the same for me), just different. Hoping to learn more about him soon’

‘One month on the team has flown by, almost can’t remember life before the 141’

‘The lads are great, but the Lieutenant still doesn’t seem keen on me being here. Which is a shame, his teammates speak so highly of him, and his work speaks for itself. Just wish he’d speak to me sometimes’

‘Almost half a year already, if you can believe it’

‘These men feel like family, all apart from the one who still won’t acknowledge me’

‘The lads say not to worry about it, that Ghost will come around eventually… I just hope they’re right. There’s something about him I can’t shake. I find myself thinking about him more than I should’

‘Mission went bad. Lieutenant got hurt and has yet to wake up from his coma’

‘For the lads sake, I hope he wakes up soon’

‘Ghost opened his eyes yesterday…’

‘I don’t know if he meant what he said, or if he even remembers it, but I know I’ll never be able to forget it’

‘This entire time I’ve just wanted him and I to be cordial, to work together, hell maybe even become friends… but ever since he’s said those words… I can’t shake the feeling … maybe friends isn’t quite the right word for us’

Ghost isn’t sure how many times his eyes scan that last entry over and over and over, willing his eyes to believe what he’s seeing right in front of him, not until your hand slowly slips over his own, still holding the journal open, does his gaze flicker up to meet your own vulnerable stare

“I’ll be honest I’m not sure how to- do this.” You say with a slightly awkward chuckle, the vulnerability of the situation clearly starting to get to you as your Lieutenant stares you down wordlessly. “But I wanted to be honest with you. Couldn’t have you wallowing away in here any longer without knowing - well I guess without knowing how I felt too. I don’t know you as well as I’d like to Ghost, we haven’t exactly given each other many chances to do so. But I’d really like to be your… friend.”

His eyes narrow in on the sweet but anxious smile you try to put on through your nerves, your earlier confidence diminishing now that you’ve truly laid your cards out and made yourself as vulnerable as you can before the man who still has yet to say anything.

Ghost takes a steadying breath, eyes never leaving yours as he tosses your journal onto his bed where it lands with a soft bounce.

Vulnerability like this, feelings like this… it’s a grey area Ghost usually tries to avoid at all costs, a field of land mines he’d rather not cross, knowing no one makes it out on the other side unscathed

But with everything you’ve done for him, everything you’ve revealed to him, in combination with the throbbing organ behind his ribs fighting to beat its way back to life since the moment he met you and decided he couldn’t fall for you, Ghost finally relents and says fuck it. You’ve shown more bravery tonight than he has in the last two weeks, avoiding you like you were the plague, and it’s about time he put on his big boy trousers and show some bravery of his own now

“Don’ know it the lads told ya, but I don’ really do friends.” He says, slowly lifting a single boot and cautiously stepping in your direction

“I- I’ve heard.” You mutter, trying not to show the defeat that threatens to come across your features at his words, fearing he’s about to let you down.

The large man takes another step, and another, until there’s suddenly less than an inch of space left between both your heaving chests, and you have to crane your neck upwards while his is tilted down to keep his eyes on yours. Your eyes widen as you watch one of Ghost’s large hands come up into view, sneaking towards the bottom of his balaclava, which has been rolled up with entire time as you both shared some smokes

His fingers pinch the fabric, pulling it up further above his mouth to rest on the crooked bridge of his nose, revealing more of his scarred lips to you just as they whisper:

“But you and I, my love, aren’t quite friends.”

With the way Ghost’s lips come crashing onto your own waiting mouth, you’re inclined to agree with him

Tag list:

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[cyberhughes]

TAPOUT!

jack hughes x fem!reader, quinn hughes x fem!reader, luke hughes , fem!reader, cole caufield x fem!reader, trevor zegras x fem!reader

IN WHICH… the new social media intern for the new jersey devils gets a proper welcome from her favourite boys

NOTE guys i had to take a pause on the requests because this was just on my mind so bad…and if this is the fic that gets me canceled for being too controversial then we went out w a bang!! (pun not intended)

also this is dedicated to my kitten clara👩🏻‍🍳🤝 @lovecla i’m glad i have someone to share my insanity with i love you👅👅

WARNINGS! NSFW 18+ content dark content/taboo | five guys one girl :( | dubcon/coercion | spiking drinks w aphrodisiac | unprotected sex | blowjobs |subtle size kink | dacryphilia (blink and u miss it) | recording | degradation | cum eating | uhm if im missing anything lmk im going crazy

she got that million dollar ooh ooh ohh...

make her tap out!

you don’t know how you got into this position. or, multiple positions. hot tears blurred your vision from clearly seeing the men in front of you. the men who had been watching you like you were prey the moment you stepped into the arena as a new social media intern, waiting for their chance to pounce on you.

[ ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ]

“hey!” you stopped your steps as you heard a familiar voice call out just before you were about to head over to the seats to film some practice content.

luke, who you had met a few times, had skated up to the gate, a friendly smile on his face as he approached. “it’s y/n, right?” he asked and you nodded with a smile, most of the time players didn’t really care for the social media girls, simply answering their questions and going on about their day like you didn’t exist. hell, they probably wouldn’t have recognized you if they saw you walking on the street.

“so uh, feel free to say no,” he started, scratching the back of his neck. “i was having a little get together with some other players tonight, and some friends from other teams too,” you nodded as you listened intently, scared you might zone out from admiring his features.

“and i was wondering if maybe you’d like to join? some of the other social media girls are gonna be there from the other teams so i was thinking that maybe you could like, connect with them or something? just cause you’re new.” he offered with a cheeky smile and you nodded, seeming calm but inside you were freaking out a bit, it was such a perfect opportunity!

you could get so many tips from the other girls, learning things from their past experience to limit any stupid mistakes you might make while learning on your own.

“yeah! i’d love to!” he grinned at your response, “okay, awesome! how ‘bout after practice i’ll give you the details?”

[ ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ]

you took in a deep breath before you firmly knocked on the door of luke’s apartment, nervousness bubbled in your stomach as you waited. you were excited to meet the other girls, and make some possible new connections with anyone else. your hands fiddled with the hem of your skirt as you heard clattering and music on the other side.

the door swung open, revealing a grinning luke. you tried to hide your surprise when you saw him, usually you had either seen him in either hockey gear or in a suit. you thought that it was refreshing to see him in something so laid back, a simple tshirt and jeans matched with a backwards cap that pushed his curls nicely to the back and side of his head.

“hey y/n!” he stepped back to let you in. you returned the greeting as you stepped in as you scanned the apartment, and wow. he really downplayed on the ‘small get together’. the apartment was bustling with players of different teams chatting and drinking, yet you couldn’t spot any of the social media girls. hm, maybe they were running late.

luke noticed the way your shoulders dropped slightly in disappointment. “oh, yeah i’m sorry y/n.” he shook his head as he led you into the living room where some familiar faces were sitting. “the other girls said they couldn’t come anymore. last minute family emergencies and some illnesses or something.” he spoked and you simply nodded. “oh, that’s too bad.” you responded, it was too bad. but you looked on the brighter side of things, you would get to know the players in a more candid setting, even starting some new friendships.

“hey guys, y/n came.” luke introduced you to everyone and you waved shyly. sitting beside jack on the couch was trevor zegras and cole caufield, with quinn sitting on an arm chair just beside.

“hey y/n!” jack slapped his hands on his thighs as he stood up from his position on the couch. “it’s too bad the other girls couldn’t come, but we’re still gonna have fun, right?” he said and you nodded, cheeks slightly burning when he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. the greeting threw you off slightly, only having met him a handful of times

“what do you say we get you a drink, hm?” he offered and you nodded, following along, you didn’t want to be impolite. you’d have one drink to settle your nerves before getting to know the players.

you didn’t notice the devilish grin jack shot luke as he placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you into the kitchen.

the night was going pretty smoothly, you had spent most of your time with the five guys you had initially been introduced with. you talked about your major for a bit, why you wanted to go into sports marketing, a bit about your personal life.

you went to take a sip of your drink as you listened to quinn talk about, well you weren't really sure what, but you had noticed your cup was empty. luke peered over, “oh, i can refill that for you.” he reached out his hand and you smiled, “sure, maybe just a soda, please?” he nodded. you don’t know how many times that night luke got up to get you another soda, but you didn’t complain. he was being a good host and you didn’t want to be rude.

“so what does your boyfriend think of you working in sports marketing?” cole smiled, taking a sip of his drink. you shook your head and chuckled in slight embarrassment, “oh, i don’t have a boyfriend.”

“really? but you’re so pretty?” trevor hummed from beside you. he had his arm draped behind you on the couch, and he reached up to twirl a strand of your hair as you blushed fifty shades of red.

you didn’t know how to respond to the compliment, squeaking out a quiet ‘thank you.’

the room started to get hot, maybe from embarrassment, maybe from the amount of bodies crowded into one space.

“hey, you okay?” quinn asked, noticing the way you were playing with the collar of your cardigan, trying to loosen it’s grip on your neck.

“uh, yeah sorry. just feeling a bit weird.” you gave him a tight lipped smile, you didn’t want to ruin the night, you had worked so hard to get where you are today and you didn’t want to ruin any of your newly made friendships with the players.

“hey it’s okay,” jack moved a few strands of hair away from your face, an expression of false concern taking over his features. “why don’t you lay down in luke's room for a bit while we call it a night?” he offered and you shook your head, “i don’t want to ruin your night.” he smiled at your pout, “don’t worry ‘bout it, luke will show you the way.”

and so luke led you to his room, letting you lean your weight onto his arm as he guided you.

“just sit down m’kay?” you nodded and plopped on the bed, feeling a weird warmth spread throughout your body. were you catching a fever? was it pms? you had never felt this feeling before. “they’ll tell everyone to go home.” he stroked your hair, letting you lean onto his shoulder.

quinn walked into the room, with jack, trevor and cole following right behind. “you okay y/n?” quinn asked as he took a seat next to you, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “you’re getting hot, why don’t you take your sweater off?” you nodded and let him unbutton your cardigan, peeling off the fabric and letting his cold hands graze your skin.

“why don’t you stay over tonight?” luke murmured as his eyes fell to your cleavage once your cardigan was taken off.

“yeah, we don’t want you out driving like this.” trevor kneeled in front of you, examining your face as the boys nodded in agreement.

was this inappropriate? staying over at luke’s apartment? you were just the social media girl, you didn’t want it to seem like you had taken this job just to get closer to the players. then again, maybe they were right. it wasn’t safe for a young woman to head home alone in an uber so late at night.

“just let us take care of you baby, okay?” luke pushed your hair to the side as he whispered into your ear, letting his lips trail down to your neck where he placed a small kiss. you shivered at the touch, feeling your butterflies in your stomach. “o-okay…” you sighed when he pressed another kiss onto your shoulder.

“you feeling hot? why don’t we take off the rest of your clothes, hm?” quinn’s fingers toyed with the strap of your tank top. “is…is this weird?” you looked up at him with doe eyes, tears barely forming. he gave you an endearing smile, admiring how cute you looked. “no, we’re all friends here, just wanna take care of you.” he said and you nodded.

quinn carefully helped you out of your tank top and skirt, revealing your lace bra and panties which you tried to cover up in embarrassment. you felt the bed dip behind you, jack and cole approaching on the situation.

you felt like prey underneath their gazes, their eyes burning over your exposed flesh like they were getting ready to devour you, their mouths practically watering

“so pretty…” cole's voice was barely above a whisper as he watched they way trevor traced his fingers closer and closer to your core.

this was extremely wrong, it was dirty. yet you couldn’t help but feel your panties get damper at their ministrations.

trevor looked up at you, tilting his head with a friendly smile, “gonna let us use you, pretty girl?” as he gently pushed open your thighs and you gave him a dazed nod, your response nearly coming out as a whimper, “yes.” you knew what they were doing, you knew that this was extremely perverted and wrong, but you were too far gone.

your lips parted in a soft gasp as you felt his fingers trace over your cunt overtop of your pink panties. you felt so many hands on you, groping at your breasts through your bra, slender hands pulling your thighs open just a bit further.

trevor pushed your panties to the side, toying with your slick before pushing in a single finger, looking up for your reaction. you whimpered, leaning back onto cole’s chest while he placed a small kiss on your temple.

trevor slowly pumped his finger, your arousal growing with the overwhelming amount of stimulation you were receiving from everyone. “so tight…” he mumbled as he stared with amazement before forcing a second and soon third finger. he pumped his digits in and out, earning moans from you that felt like music to their ears. from behind you, jack reached around to toy with your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

tears threatened to fall as you felt the heat pool in your lower stomach, “m…m gonna cum..” you whined, body fighting the way cole hand you down as you squirmed.

“go on baby, it’s okay.” quinn licked at your ear and that was all it took for you to snap, your first orgasm of the night washing over you with an intensity you had never felt before.

“fuck..” luke’s mouth dropped open as he watched your release squirt out onto trevor's tattooed arm, his fingers practically jackhammering into you as he pulled every moan he could from you until you were breathless.

everything felt hazy as they lied you down, they took their time taking off the only fabric that you had left, leaving you fully exposed and vulnerable. you heard some rummaging around but stayed focused on catching your breath.

you dazily watch jack as he climbed on top of you, trailing comforting kisses from your stomach up to your neck. “you okay with this?” he asked as he stroked his cock from below you, positioning it at your fluttering entrance. you nodded frantically and he smirked, “‘course you are.” you felt your stomach drop at the mockery in his voice, but you didn’t have much time to think about it before he pushed into you, taking all the air from your lungs. “fuck baby,” he groaned, letting himself sink fully, tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to fall at the intense stretch.

he didn’t give you time to adjust as he began thrusting into you with fervor, lifting your legs and pressing them to your chest. his fingers dug into your thighs and he pushed them down, leaving bruises onto your delicate skin. “you’re so dirty, y/n.” he grinned from above you and you felt the tears fall, which he quickly kissed away. you could tell he was about to cum when his thrusts became harsher, his cock kissing at your cervix as he let out deep groans.

his gaze flickered from the way your pussy sucked him in, up to your face, cheeks red and stained with tears as you watched him with hooded eyes. “fuckkk,” he breathed out, letting himself shoot his load into you, hips stuttering as he did so.

you let out a whine when he pulled out, feeling his cum drip out of your hole and down to your ass. you don’t even notice when he had switched positions with trevor and cole, the two boys admiring your fucked out expression before taking their turn with you.

“such a pretty little whore.” trevor smiled at you sweetly, a contrast to his degrading words. he flipped you onto your stomach with ease, lifting your hips up so that your ass was flush with his pelvis.

cole positioned himself in front of you, and you knew what he wanted. you stuck your tongue out, looking up at him with doe eyes and he swore he could’ve cum just from the sight. he slapped his cock over your tongue as trevor spread your ass cheeks from behind, getting a better view of your swollen cunt before he lined himself up with your already leaking hole.

you moaned around cole’s cock as trevor thrusted into you, the vibrations sending instant pleasure throughout his body. you steadied yourself by placing your hands on his thick thighs, letting your nails dig into his skin as he let out the prettiest whines.

you let out a squeal when trevor slapped your ass, quickly smoothing his hand over the red mark to soothe the pain. “so filthy,” it didn’t take them long before they came, shooting their loads from both ends.

you had no choice but to swallow cole’s cum when he pushed your head down all the way, nose to pelvis as his body shook in pleasure.

he cupped your face with one hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he thanked you, leaving your heart fluttering. trevor placed a kiss onto your back before the two of them moved away, letting quinn take over.

quinn’s eyes scanned you with a look of disapproval and pity. “so messy, baby.” you pouted at his words, he was right though. you had cum and spit leaking at the corner of your mouth, your hair was tousled and your cunt was already stuffed full. he grabbed your tank top that was thrown onto the bed earlier and quickly cleaned you up.

“there we go.” he smiled softly before leaning down to give you a proper kiss on this lips and your eyes fluttered closed, your hands reaching up to tangle themselves in his hair. he trailed his kiss from your mouth down to your breasts, licking and sucking at the reddening skin. “poor baby,” he murmured, “didn’t even get to cum again, hm? it’s okay though, i’m gonna take proper care of you.” he said, a slight dig to the men who had previously used you without any regard for your own pleasure.

he laid you down, dipping his middle finger between your folds, chuckling at the way your hole fluttered, clenching around nothing. “i’ll take care of you.” he soon replaced his finger with his aching cock, pushing into you gently as he hushed your whimpers with a kiss.

“doing so good for us, aren’t you baby?” his hand trailed down to lazily massage at your neglected clit. “q-quinn…” your nails scratched at his back, leaving bright red marks and he hissed at the pleasurable pain, nipping at your collarbones. “it’s okay, i got you baby.” he rocked into you, never ceasing his actions on your clit and you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head as his thrusts deepened. “you gonna cum for me, pretty girl? huh? gonna put on a show on for them?” you whined at his words, squirming underneath him as the heat pooled in your belly.

“k-kiss..” you mumbled and he smiled, “yeah, i got you.” he leaned down and you kissed him deeply, moving your hips up to meet him halfway. “go on baby, let go.” he whispered against your lips when he felt your grip on him tighten, your pussy spasming as you came, him following soon after, pulling out to cum onto the soft skin of your stomach.

your vision was blurry as you came down from your orgasm, body on fire from the consistent stimulation with no break. you felt quinn pepper kiss over your face, “you did so good baby.” he placed on last kiss on your lips, savoring the sweet taste of your saliva, “it’s okay, it’s almost over.” he reassured and you hummed in confusion, before you saw luke standing at the edge of the bed.

you didn’t know if you had it in you, and god he looked big standing there. “luke…” you whimpered as you tried crawling back up the bed, but he grabbed your ankles and pulled you back down.

“m’sorry baby,” he pouted, “you’re gonna let me fuck you, right? it’s only fair. i’m the one who thought you were pretty first.” he said like it was a competition before pushing himself in, your eyes going wide as your body tensed. even though you had been fucked plenty that night, none of them could’ve possible compared to the way luke’s cock was stretching you out.

hot tears fell down your cheeks as he thrusted into you, letting one of his large hands press down onto your lower stomach to feel the bulge of his cock as he fucked you. “too big luke!” you cried, thrashing underneath him and leaned down closer, his cock hitting deeper. “you can take it, know you can.” he grunted, his tip brushing against your cervix and you gripped onto his biceps like he was your lifeline. “luke! s’too much!” you cried and he licked as the salty tears from your face.

he didn’t let up his pace, continuing to fuck into you like he had been dreaming of since he first laid eyes on you at the rink. “my pretty girl...” he cooed as your screams of overstimulation echoed in his ears as he reached places inside you no one had ever reached before.

it wasn’t long before yet another load was dumped into you, your eyes lolling to the back of your head as you let out a silent scream while you came for the final time that night.

the room fell silent, the boys entranced at your fucked out expression, limp on the bed with your skin decorated with their cum.

“fuck, wait till nico sees this.” jack was quick to pull out his phone, snapping a picture of you.

“there’s no leaving us now, baby doll.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello Dorito!

Can you please write Bruce, Dick, Jason and Clark receiving a good luck kiss on the cheek from their crush before they go on a mission? I’m curious how they would individually react and what their thoughts would be. I thought it would be cute if it was pre relationship for some reason (*'ω'*)

Dick

The moment you kiss his cheek, dick just smiles softly.

‘What was that for?’ He’d ask, his thoughts going a mile a minute as to what this all meant in the long run of your relationships as he knew damn well friends didn’t kiss each other on the cheek…well unless they were close like that, but Dick typically knew it wasn’t and wanted answers before he left for the mission.

‘Good luck?’ You shrug.

‘Just good luck?’ Dick would tease, but on the inside he was hop in that this was going where he was thinking it was going, hoping he wasn’t reading anything you were putting down wrong as he didn’t want anything to be misconstrued or misinterpreted. He wanted this moment for so long and wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to having something worth coming home to; or someone worth coming home to after a long and intense mission.

Dick would look like he was confident and whatnot but on the inside he was more happier then he’s ever been in his entire life. He wanted to shout to the rooftops that he had been kissed on the cheek by the person he liked, but instead decided to play it cool and try to work his charisma into his favour with you in hopes of a date. He’s done being coy and dropping hints, the kiss on the cheek had to mean something to you as it did with him.

Jason

Blinks several times as his brain tries to accept that you did just kiss him on the cheek.

He reaches up to touch the cheek you kissed lightly as his insides were waging war with one another, he was glad that you made a move first as now Jason knew you had some liking towards him, especially if you were willing to go out of your way to kiss his cheek before he leaves for a mission.

This felt like something he had read out of many, many, many books that he never thought he himself would ever experience in his lifetime, and yet here he was being kissed on the cheek by the person who he had a raging crush on that felt like it came straight out of a movie. He’s aware of his crush on you, insanely so, but when you kissed his cheek he didn’t know whether it was with platonic or romantic intentions.

Jason wanted so badly for it to be romantic, his heart yearned for it like he yearned for you as long as he had, trying not to show just how he melted like putty in your touches and general affection towards him. Other people try to touch him and he hisses at them, but you? You could hold his cheeks and he’d be fighting to need to close his eyes and melt into your hands, feeling safe enough within your presence to do so then he ever had anyone else in a long, long time.

He knew he was fucked the moment he realised that he didn’t want to push you away but pull you in close. Jason knew he was fucked but in that moment he didn’t care because a life of love with you was a risk he was willing to to take, after all he was deserving of a sweeter aspect of life then the one he was already given.

Clark

Feels his cheeks burn as he rubs the back of his head, the feel of your lips still very much lingering on his skin.

The kiss was soft, it was sweet and innocent but it was enough to have Clark becoming a little flustered and a bit sheepish in looking you in the eye, but he managed to do so and it was obvious by the look in his eyes that it was something that would affect his mind for a long while; even when you were long from view you’ll still be in the forefront in his mind.

His voice was caught in his throat but his mind was filled to the brim with all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t, for as soon as you kissed his cheek and wishing him luck, you were already out of his line of sight with a knowing smile graced upon your lips upon your exit.

Clark knew that he’d have to have some words with you when he gets back, but until then he could only assume that you were both on the same page without having to speak words to one another, the attraction was clear but would need to be communicated clearly sooner or later.

Clark could only hope he wasn’t the only one feeling something between the two of you, he was hopeful that he wasn’t when you placed your hand on the s symbol on his chest and looked at him the way you did.

Bruce

Doesn’t show much change visibly but his eyes do shine in amusement and his posture seemed to straighten a little more, only the keenest of eyes would’ve seen that he had also leant into your lips when you kissed his cheek.

Bruce prided himself in being a well put together man, but the moment you kissed his cheek that collapsed in on itself, and he was left wanting nothing more then to ask for another kiss and so he did with a hint of mischief upon his tongue.

‘Do I get another one?’ He asks you.

You only shrug. ‘Only if you come back in one piece then you can have as many cheek kisses as you’d like.’

He may have made an entire playboy persona for public outings and such, but in that moment he felt like a teenager with their first crush again, wanting nothing more then to ask Alfred if engaging in a relationship with you was worth the risks. He is a smart man and knew what he wants and yet while he knew what he wanted, he couldn’t claim to know what you want and didn’t want to assume on your behalf when you didn’t say anything of substance.

Bruce knew that something was different between the two of you -outside of him having a crush on you of course- and knew that once he gets back to Gotham he’ll have to strike while he still could in hopes that you’d allow him to treat you right, and allow him to spoil you rotten once in a while, and keep you safe should you all him to have your heart by taking you on a date to your favourite place.

[elprupneerg]

went through the notes and found some of my favorite things people said, putting them here:

what's going on in west bend is a lot of bigotry tbh. i'm never moving back there again unless i have Literally no other option. like, "my house burnt down and my girlfriend died and all my friends moved to argentina and so did all my relatives who don't live in west bend and the homeless shelters disappear into thin air so the only place left is my parents' house" levels of no other option.

classes were 20-30 kids. usually closer to 20. unless you were in band or choir, since all the members had class together at once. those ones were larger (i wasn't in either so i can't say how much larger). people argued back and forth about whether combining the schools would save the district money in the long term. you could manipulate the numbers either way. ultimately its more about being stubborn over something we all know is incredibly silly than anything else. if you do not pick a bit and commit to it like your life depends on it, what is even the point?

the staircases in the building were also named after letters, based on which hallways they connected. my favorite stairs were the BS stairs because it was Bullshit trying to remember which side of the building they were on.

i'm honestly not sure what this has to do with fallen london but i'm glad you're having fun? i guess?

and finally, my favorite:

😭😭😭you are so fucking right. oh my god. it should've been the suns and moons. fucking hell. west's color scheme is even blue and white so it would've fit. oh my god.

remembering that time i met someone who attended high school in west bend, wisconsin and they told me how their school district works. to them it was completely normal while i was wondering if they were messing with me.

their schools are conjoined twins???

[transgenderer]

attention conservation notice: atheist butchers proclus' theology

ive been relistening to some of the SHWEPisodes on proclus and i think proclus could have saved abrahamic theology (which like. okay obviously they are different. but like. theyre really not different. the amount of cross-influence in abrahamic theology is crazy. and also mutual influence from the same greek philosophers, which leads to cross-influence via cribbing interpretations of nominally secular philosophy. anyway).

so okay, religion has basically two threads, nirguna (without attributes) and saguna (with attributes). yknow, god as transcendent, indescribable, beyond comprehension, totally detached, etc, vs god as earthly, specific, with attributes and symbols and statues. just the former is boring and sort of without content, leads to deism, just the latter isn't even god, its just like... a powerful guy who might exist. not god, really. so you need both

but how do you have both? theyre contradictory. well, christianity tried to solve this with jesus and it sucks. so. not like that. BUT a mere 400 years later proclus figured it out. and a little bit of it spread around the greco-abrahamic tradition, because his elements of theology was shared around by people who thought it was by aristotle. but mostly, he didnt influence that much, which is too bad

okay so here's proclus' idea. first of all, there's the one. it's the ultimate nirguna. totally transcendent. cause of all being. etc. we cant talk about the one. we cant even talk about what the one ISNT. BUT below the one, there's the henads. the henads are not the one but theyre sort of. related to him. theyre the closest thing to the one than anything else is. and the henads "are" the greek gods. but actually, they just correspond to the greek gods.

from each henad there is a chain to lower and lower levels, with the earth at the bottom. and a statue of athena doesn't look like athena-the-henad. but it resembles her MORE than other earthly things do. and in fact everything is in the chain of one of the henads. so like, if you know a guy, and he has some of hermes' traits, and maybe a facial feature associated with hermes, thats because he's in the henad of hermes. some things, or traits of things, have a better "resonance" with the henads than other things. and because everything is connected via the henads you can do magic, by yknow, influencing things higher up in the chain, which then send their influence back down to other things in the chain (i guess it's less a chain and more a tree).

its a good theory of magic! its a good way of having the saguna and nirguna together! it makes the transcendent aspect do metaphysical work, its not just a trait its the mechanism by which ritual functions (another thorny puzzle for theologians!)

[callipraxia]

I’ll admit it - thinking of ‘but what will people think of me?’ has stopped me short of writing things before, in everything from writing actual content to writing part of a review on a friend’s story. “What will [Friend] think, seeing that I know that? Even if I explain the actually relatively innocuous reason why I know it, would they even believe me? This is an issue of how something is portrayed in media that I feel pretty strongly about, but in context, it might be better to just…drop it.”

I…tried actually including a detailed example of my next point here, drawing from Anon’s Robert Jordan remark, but it ended up breaking the thousand-word limit before I even got past the introductory explanations, so I guess I’ll write a separate essay about why I don’t really agree with the “dudebro is secretly obsessed with lesbians and BDSM” line of thinking, maybe link it back here later if I remember. In the meantime, the point was - if I start thinking “dang, I think Author X has an Issue with Y,” it’s usually a lot less because of what the author leaves in than what the author leaves out. As an author, one deliberately chooses to explore certain topics, including dark ones that reflect the issues that preoccupy us (isn’t Anne Rice’s work supposed to be kinda messed up? I mean, I’ve never read a word she wrote that I can recall, but aren’t they all, y’know, horror novels?). As distasteful as we might find it, incest and pedophilia and sexual assault and suicide and all those other words you can’t use on YouTube are real things that happen every day. There’s a plethora of reasons why any given author might want to explore such issues in writing, and at least half of ‘em have nothing to do with sex. I’ve never heard anyone imply that Dostoyevsky must have been really, really turned on by the thought of attacking pawnbrokers with axes, much less that he ever committed a murder in real life just for the heck of it. From what I’ve read - though to be fair, my reading on the subject is not extensive - Nabokov probably wasn’t really a pedophile, and Mario Puzo probably had nothing to do with real-life organized crime. I have heard a few people suggest Stephen King must be a perverted serial killer in real life to write what he writes, but those people were idiots. And so forth. Point is, an author examining evil through a certain point of view really should not lead to the assumption that the author has done or wants to do any of those bad things. That’s why we say that authors use their imaginations when they’re working.

Plus, well…nine times out of ten, nobody’s going to make you read a book. If you really can’t read a book without getting uncomfortable because you can’t stop thinking that X or Y means that the author might have wanted his wife to put him on a leash and spank him, you can almost always just…put down the book and go read something else. You can also do this if you’re uncomfortable with Anne Rice apparently having conflicting feelings about God - that isn’t a potential theme that bothers me, but I know people who would be upset for days about reading something that even hinted at someone Having Questions about the divine. Heck, I have a few books I 99% enjoy and I just skim over or entirely skip parts that involve actions I find uncomfortable - my one hard rule is that I won’t willingly even skim anything where bad things happen to pets, but even then, I don’t assume that everybody who ever earned a Newbury Medal is a bad person who likes thinking about such things. I just don’t read their books. Unless you are compelled to do otherwise for a class* or the like, just do thou likewise.

*I was, very reluctantly, compelled to read two books in my undergraduate Adolescent Literature class where bad things happened to dogs; it was the first and last time in my life that I’ve ever tried to get out of reading something, but the professor didn’t believe what I could bring myself to explain about just how negative of a reaction I knew I would have if I read any books with dying dogs in them. Now I still have one of those scenes lodged in my carousel of intrusive thoughts that drive my anxiety level up and make it really difficult not to engage in compulsive behaviors whenever they rudely shove their way up to the front of my brain, but I don’t think badly of Sherman Alexie because of it.

Do you think authors sometimes don't realize how their, uh, interests creep into their writing? I'm talking about stuff like Robert Jordan's obvious femdom kink, or Anne Rice's preoccupation with inc*st and p*dophilia. Did their editors ever gently ask them if they've ever actually read what they've written?

Firstly, a reminder: This is not tiktok and we just say the words incest and pedophilia here.

Secondly, I don't know if I would call them 'interests' so much as fixations or even concerns. There are monstrous things that people think about, and I think writing is a place to engage with those monstrous things. It doesn't bother me that people engage with those things. I exist somewhere within the whump scale, and I would hope no one would think less of me just because sooner or later I like to rough a good character up a bit, you know? It's fun to torture characters, as a treat!

But, anyway, assuming this question isn't, "Do writers know they're gross when I think they are gross" which I'm going to take the kind road and assume it isn't, but is instead, "Do you think authors are aware of the things they constantly come back to?"

Sometimes. It can be jarring to read your own writing and realize that there are things you CLEARLY are preoccupied with. (mm, I like that word more than concerns). There are things you think about over and over, your run your mind over them and they keep working their way back in. I think this is true of most authors, when you read enough of them. Where you almost want to ask, "So...what's up with that?" or sometimes I read enough of someone's work that I have a PRETTY good idea what's up with that.

I've never read Robert Jordan and I don't intend to start (I think it would bore me this is not a moral stance) and I've really never read Rice's erotica. In erotica especially I think you have all the right in the world to get fucking weird about it! But so, when I was young I read the whole Vampire Chronicles series. I don't remember it perfectly, but there's plenty in it to reveal VERY plainly that Anne Rice has issues with God but deeply believes in God, and Anne Rice has a preoccupation with the idea of what should stay dead, and what it means to become. So, when i found out her daughter died at the age of six, before Rice wrote all of this, and she grew up very very Catholic' I said, 'yeah, that fucking checks out'.

Was Rice herself aware of how those things formed her writing? I think at a certain point probably yes. The character of Claudia is in every way too on the nose for her not to have SOME idea unless she was REAL REAL dense about her own inner workings. But, sometimes I know where something I write about comes from, that doesn't mean I'm interested in sharing it with the class. I would never ever fucking say, 'The reasons I seem to write so much of x as y is that z happened to me years ago' ahaha FUCK THAT NOISE. NYET. RIDE ON, COWBOY.

But I've known some people in fandom works who clearly have something going on and don't seem to realize it. Or they're very good at hiding it. Based on the people I'm talking about I would say it's more a lack of self-knowledge, and I don't even mean that unkindly. I have, in many ways, taken myself down to the studs and rebuilt it all, so I unfortunately am very aware of why I do and write the things I do most of the time. It's extremely annoying not to be able to blame something. I imagine it must be very freeing. But it ain't me, babe.

Anyway, a lot of words to say: Maybe! But that might not stop them from writing it, it might be a useful thing for them to engage with, and you can always just not read it.

Also, we don't censor words here.

[azzibuckets]

All Fell Down ~Part 2~

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

*masterlist in collab w/ @imaginespazzi*

a/n: here’s my first part (azzi’s perspective)!! i know these chapters are short lol but bear with us :) let us know your thoughts!

It’s almost two in the morning and Paige is on the sticky floor of a filthy bathroom. She feels the burn in the throat where it’s raw from having puked up the shots she’d pounded earlier, and she feels the ache in her knees from kneeling from so long. She’s conscious of all this, and yet the thing that hurts the most is the excruciating feeling of half of me is missing throbbing in her heart.

From behind her, Paige hears the sound of shoes shuffling against tile. If she shuts her eyes hard enough she can almost smell the floral undertones of Azzi’s favorite perfume, feel the familiar comfort of Azzi’s calloused palm against her cheek. Her heart beats rampant as she indulges herself in thoughts of Azzi could be here, Azzi could be here and take Paige in her arms and everything would somehow be alright. But then a hand reaches out to smooth her hair back, wrapping a hair tie two times around before pulling it into a ponytail, and Paige has to swallow her hopes.

Azzi always ties it three times.

“I told you to slow down earlier.” Evina’s voice is gentle but firm, and Paige doesn’t have to look at her friend in the eyes to feel the disappointment dripping off her words.

Paige spits into the toilet one last time, trying to escape the bitter feeling of bile coating her tongue. “I’m fine,” she mutters, unleashing her long blonde hair and plumping it up in the mirror. “Just needed some space.” She studies herself in the mirror. She’s paler than usual, and her forehead is covered in a light sheen of sweat. But other than that, she looks pretty decent, even though she doesn’t feel like it at all. But isn’t life always about pretending?

“You’re going back out there?” Evina asks, not bothering to hide the judgment on her face.

“We just beat Notre Dame by 20 points. I think I deserve to let loose for one night.” Paige is on the defensive, but she doesn’t know why. Even she knows that she’s self-destructing, has been for the last two weeks. But what else are you supposed to do when she can’t stop missing something that she never had?

Evina’s eyebrows furrow, and Paige’s heart drops as the older girl’s face slowly morphs into pity. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“The way all of you guys keep looking at me.” Paige’s voice comes out strangled. She rubs harshly at her eyes as they start to dampen, willing herself to hold it together for one more goddamn second. Paige has gotten used to breaking down over the past year, but Azzi had always been one call away and now, for the last few months, only one hall away. But this time Azzi isn’t here to put her back together, and now she’s picking up the pieces alone.

“Getting drunk isn’t a healthy way to cope with your problems.”

“And what are my problems, Evina?” P aige laughs mockingly. “The fact that I can’t have a normal conversation with my best friend anymore? That I stutter if I talk to her for longer than five seconds? That I have to create space between us when it’s the last fucking thing I wanna do?” One after another, the words tumble out of her mouth, a cacophony of hurt and bitterness, and Paige presses a hand to her lips as she realizes what she’s done.

“You think we pity you?” Evina says incredulously. “Honestly, Paige, you’re the one who pities yourself.” The hardness of Evina’s tone yanks Paige out of her drunken stupor. She blinks at her teammate, at a loss for words. “Azzi’s the one who’s alone in her dorm right now. Azzi’s the one who’s sidelined with an injury and can’t play for god knows how long. Azzi’s the one who got to this school four months ago and needed, needs, her best friend to help guide her through everything, but is getting ignored because you’re too pussy to do anything about it.”

Evina turns to leave, but looks over her shoulder as she opens the door. Paige expects a glare, but the older girl’s eyes are uncharacteristically soft, the corners creased, and Paige thinks that’s even worse. “Go home, Paige. I mean it.”

Paige slumps against the wall, her mind reeling. Before she knows it, her phone is in her hand, the screen opened up to a photo of her and Azzi from her birthday a few years ago. Azzi’s arm is wrapped tightly around her, and Paige is leaning into her touch, like she always seems to subconsciously do. She remembers how Azzi’s hand had lingered on her waist even after Katie had put her camera down. She remembers clasping their hands together under the table, their fingers and their futures intertwined in a way that couldn’t be undone. She remembers being in the bathroom at the end of the night, drunk off chocolate and sugar and everything Azzi when she’d told her best friend that she was her favorite person in the entire world.

Paige doesn’t know she’s crying until a teardrop lands on her screen, but she hurriedly brushes it away before tapping on the number under the picture and bringing the phone to her ear.

“Paige?”

[morganakang444]

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader

synopsis: as long as i exist, someone loves you.

warnings/genre: bsfs to lovers, hyunjin is pining, insecure yn, heavy ass make out between reader and hyunjin

wc: 1373

based on this req

another saturday night.

another failed date.

yn laid on her bed, eyes filled to the brim with tears, texting her best friend about her terrible night.

yn: he was such a fucking asshole.

hyunjin: the guy who went on the date with?? what‘d he to do you??

yn: god, where do i even start 💀

hyunjin: hold on. i‘m coming over

yn was smiling on the inside at her best friend’s concern, but her grin couldn’t be brought to her exterior, as her feelings of greif far overpowered any joy she could fathom.

tossing her phone on her pillow with a heavy sigh, yn turned onto her back to face her ceiling, eyes locked on her fan spinning above her. she still wore her cute little sweater and skirt that gave the classiest old-money heiress vibe she picked out for her date with alejandro tonight.

yn finally sat up and made her way out to her kitchen and living room area the moment hyunjin arrived, letting himself in using the copy of yn‘s apartment key she gave him.

"yn.." hyunjin quietly spoke, his gaze softening at the sight of his distraught best friend. her mascara stained her plump, reddened cheeks and her once neat, perfectly blown out hair was disheveled in the back from laying down on it. those same eyes he loved so much were no longer filled with the same happy anticipation he saw this evening. they were filled with a hurting frustration. one he yearned to put an end to.

"oh yn.." hyunjin‘s voice was as gentle as his touch when he pulled yn in for a hug, not holding her too tight in fear she would break. his large, veiny hand combed the back of yn‘s hair, tenderly fixing the little knots and tangles that formed. he softly shushed her, rocking her delicate body side to side with his as dejected sobs escaped yn‘s lips, mumbling incoherent nonsense about her despondent date with alejandro.

"oh, yn…a few bad dates don‘t mean anything. the right one is waiting there for you." hyunjin comforted the crying girl, pulling back just enough to cup her reddened face. "you‘re just one step closer to finding him." hyunjin shot yn a reassuring smile, his gaze never leaving her face.

"how…how am i ever going to find the one for me if there is nobody out there who wants me?" yn spoke through her sobs, her tone coming out frustrated as she gripped hyunjin‘s t-shirt, exerting some of her pent up anger at the world and towards men into her firm grasp.

hyunjin‘s hold on yn‘s face tightened ever so subtly—not enough to hurt yn, but to implicate the irritation building in him at yn‘s self-deprecating remark.

"you think nobody out there wants you? you really think you’re not worth loving or fighting for?" hyunjin loosened his hands on yn‘s cheeks, sliding down to her narrow shoulders, giving them light squeezes.

"do you know how lucky any man would be to call you his own?" hyunjin quickly adverted his gaze before locking those dark, passionate eyes back on yn. "to have a woman like you…to have the very definition of ethereal by their side would make any man the most envied creature this world has seen. you are worth more than all the diamonds on earth, more than any artifact in these deep oceans, and more valuable than time itself. never forget that, yn."

god, if yn wasn‘t already crying because of her horrible time tonight she most definitely would have started bawling her eyes out then and there at her best friend’s words. she knew hyunjin was fond of her—obviously. they‘ve been inseparable since fifth grade. but this made her question his feelings for her a bit more. yn never got the impression hyunjin had feelings for her beyond platonic, despite everyone else attempting to convince her hyunjin was in love with her. but this passionate statement that fell from hyunjin‘s mouth almost did the job of convincing her.

almost.

but yn simply kept quiet for a moment, searching those eyes for any lies but only finding a genuine, burning ferventness.

"you give me too much credit. i‘m not that special—"

"not that special?" hyunjin cut yn off, running his hands down her arms to hold her hands, his grip as firm as his voice like he was scolding her. "yn i am so sick of you feeling like shit about yourself! god, you are the most perfect girl i have ever seen, you know that? if you could see yourself through my eyes you would see just how god took his time crafting you by hand, each detail with the utmost care. your hair as soft as the finest silk…" hyunjin‘s hand ran through yn‘s hair. "your face that remains the most beautiful i‘ve ever seen no matter what expression crosses your path.." hyunjin’s hand cupped her jaw. "you have an intelligence and stubbornness that lights a fire inside of you impossible to smother. you have a kindness that is unmatched and a drive that challenges me and dozens of others. this ambition i have seen in no one else. and the love inside of you i see you giving everywhere…makes me want to be a better man. someone worthy of you." hyunjin sighed, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. "it kills me when you say nobody loves you yn, because i love you!" he spoke passionately, his eyes opening, hands coming up to let his thumbs wipe away some of yn‘s new tears at hyunjin‘s unbridled love.

"i have loved you every day since i met you. and i plan to love you every day more, if you will so let me." hyunjin‘s voice softened as he pressed his forehead against yn‘s.

"you…you love me?" yn sniffled, a flicker of hope awakening inside of her.

hyunjin nodded against yn.

"then prove it," yn teased, wanting to see just how far this love of hyunjin‘s went.

with a lick of his lips and a clear understanding of his best friend‘s message, hyunjin leaned in, staying still for a sliver of a moment just in case yn wanted to pull away. when her eyes fluttered shut and her hands rested on his forearms, hyunjin finally closed the gap between the pair, capturing yn‘s plump lips in a searing, love-filled kiss. as their lips danced together, hyunjin poured every ounce of longing and pure infatuation he‘s felt for yn since they were little. seeking entrance, hyunjin‘s tongue licked along yn‘s full bottom lip, granting him the access he so needed to fully prove to yn he means every word he‘s said.

his large hand trailed up yn‘s body, coming to rest on the small of her back to pull the girl flush against him. her soft curves and supple skin contradicted the hard planes of hyunjin‘s body so so well as she pressed up against him, allowing her hands to travel from his forearms to his buzzcut, allowing her fingers to splay across the floor of blonde hair atop his head.

their tongues melted together in a rhythm crafted by pent up feelings and unspoken words that no longer needed to escape their lips, because this kiss spoke all.

reluctantly pulling away, hyunjin ran his thick thumb over yn‘s wet bottom lip, reveling in the way their heavy breaths synced.

"do you need more proof, love?" hyunjin breathily spoke, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. with a nod, yn crashed her lips against hyunjin’s once more, this kiss much more demanding and lustful in nature.

finally moving, hyunjin backed yn against the couch, his hands coming up to the tantalizing curves of her ass to lay her down in contrast to his aggressive mouth work.

hovering over yn without breaking the soul tying kiss between them both, hyunjin‘s calloused hands roamed every curve and valley of yn‘s frame, feeling every inch of her soft skin both covered by the barrier of clothing and exposed.

when time came to finally pull away, hyunjin planted small kisses all over yn‘s blushing face, his lust falling back into his state of affection.

"believe me now, baby?" hyunjin playfully asked.

yn smiled bashfully. "yeah…"

[kikidoul]

── BEHIND THE SCENE.

໒꒰ྀི ^ ⸝⸝ ^ ꒱ྀིა 이희승 x fem! reader content established+secret relationship idol au ᥫ᭡ warning explicit sexual content petnames used pussy eating fingering unprotected sex semi-public sex quickie praise kink belly bulge lmk if i miss anything else . . .!? 1173 — mlist. req

note. wrote this in one sitting... somehow, this is kinda decent so yeah! taglist. @tfwbluu

You could tell something was amiss the moment your boyfriend managed to drag you away from your respective groups. The award show was about to begin but the two of you had chosen that moment to argue about your relationship. You’ve been together for six months now and you wanted to come clean to the public, but Heeseung disagreed. 

“You and I both know how ruthless some people can be if they find out about us. I’m worried that you won’t be able to handle the hatred they threw at you,” he replied, crossing his arms. 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I’m not a child, Hee. And I’m stronger than I look so I’m sure I could handle some of the things they say about me. Why are you hesitating? I thought we'd talked about this and came to an agreement. What changed? Is it because you feel ashamed about dating me that you prefer to keep us a secret?” 

Your voice grew softer the longer you spoke, faint insecurity seeping into your voice. Heeseung caught it—of course he does, being the attentive person and boyfriend he is. Instead of replying, he sighed, glancing behind him to see no one was in the corridor anymore. He grabbed your wrist, dragging you to one of the nearest rooms, doing a quick scan and once the coast was clear, he pulled you in. You hissed as your back hit the door, closing it at the same time and your boyfriend crashed his lips against yours. The kiss was intense, sloppy and messy. You could feel his desperation and frustration from the way his lips moved against yours. 

If you were being honest, you felt like you were being consumed whole. You flinched; startled when Heeseung grabbed a fistful of your dress, tugging the fabric aside to cup your cunt through your panties. Your ears turned red when you registered the faint chuckle and how he smirked into the kiss. 

“You’re already wet, baby. Don’t tell me you’ve been anticipating this the entire time?” He murmured, breaking the kiss, lips moving down along your neck. You obediently tilted your head up, resting against the door as you gripped onto his shoulders for support. 

“H-Hee, we can’t—ngh,” you whimpered, canting your hips forward as he tugged your drenched panties aside, not bothering to pull it down to rub at the bundle of nerves, drawing angelic sounds from you. 

“Shh, no one’ll know if you can remain quiet. Think you can do that for me?” He hushed you, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips, breathing in your exhales as he slowly pushed his fingers in, using your wetness as lube. 

As much as you want to protest—telling him that this was a horrible idea, the words flew out of your mind when Heeseung got to his knees. You held up your dress with trembling hands, allowing him to sling your right leg over his shoulder to stabilize yourself. You knew both of you didn’t have the time and luxury to take it slow, considering your current location and how the public will explode the moment they caught wind of your relationship. You barely remembered to not make any loud sound when you felt his mouth on you. 

“Fuck!” You hissed, pushing your hips forward—wanting to feel more of his skillful mouth on you. Your free hand moved down, gripping onto his neatly-styled hair as you lightly tugged on it. Your action drew a moan from the man—the sensation driving through your body. 

“Hee, pl-please—oh god,” you cried out as he gently nipped at your bundle of nerves, the brief contact making your mind spin. 

Heeseung parted your puffy folds, licking and sucking like a man on a mission. With every flick of his skillful tongue, you were one step away from reaching your orgasm. He didn’t stopped you when you moved your hips, allowing you to fuck his tongue. You were so close, only for the heat to vanish. You were about to protest, probably throw a fit, only for your voice to die down when you heard him frantically unbuckling his pants. 

He didn’t bother pulling his clothes down, only freeing his cock as he grabbed your hips. You hold your breath, forcing yourself to relax as he slowly pushes in. You covered your mouth with one hand, even biting down onto your palm to muffle the moans threatening to spill. Despite how you’ve done this many times, you couldn’t get used to his size, especially when he was practically splitting you open, molding your insides to fit him. 

Eventually, he bottomed out. You were bemused when you saw Heeseung staring at your stomach with a dark look in his eyes. Following his line of sight, you looked down to see a faint but evident bulge on your stomach. You knew what it was without asking and you let out a breathless whimper when he gently pressed down, making you clenched down on his cock without warning. 

“Fuck, look at you. You’re taking me so deep, such a good girl, aren’t you?” He breathed out, eyes fixated on the bump, watching it move up and down as he began thrusting into you. 

The room was filled with the lewd sounds of skin snapping against skin. You could only pray that none of your members were closeby to hear it, or you wouldn’t be able to look them in the eyes ever again. Your mind came to a halt when Heeseung tugged you in for a kiss—an attempt to stifle the sounds you were making. But you find it hard to keep up with him, not when his cock was abusing the same spot—the exact spot that makes you see stars, over and over again. 

“Hah—Hee, g-gonna cum, please pleaseplease,” you cried, your muscles tightening as you felt the familiar feeling from before looming over you. 

“Shh, it’s alright princess, let go for me, hm?” He coos, hand snaking down to rub hurried circles on your poor, overly-sensitive clit and that was enough to tip you over the edge. 

Heeseung had to kiss you for the third time, swallowing your sounds as your walls spasmed and contracted around his cock. He followed suit a few seconds after, spilling himself inside you, making you groan at the feeling of his hot, thick cum filling you up. He wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to lean on him for support as you were close to collapsing to the floor. 

“...Let’s do it,” he murmured, resting his chin on your head, brushing his hand through your hair. 

“Hm?” You raised your head, blinking. 

“Let’s tell the public about us,” he clarified, chuckling at how your face lit up. 

“Really!?” 

Heeseung nodded, ducking his head to kiss your forehead. “Yeah, really. I think we’re more than ready to tell them the truth about us.” 

You smiled, cupping his face with your hands, watching how he leaned into your touch. “God, I love you.” 

“I love you too, princess. Always do.”

[cherie-doll]

Hi! I hope you’re doing really, really well, beautiful. So, I was wondering if you could write something about what the COD guys would be like on their wedding day. Maybe how their weddings would go—whether they’d be big or small, or where they’d get married? I’ll leave it up to your imagination. Thanks so much!!!🤍💌^^

what a lovely thing to imagine <3

(sorry i am getting to these so late, i've been so incredibly busy bc i forget that im somehow an adult and i have to do adult things, there's just kind of a lot on my plate rn, if only y’all could see the mess my desk is in with trying to write and the paperwork everywhere but this was so fun to write tysm for this ask <33)

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Their Wedding Day

༢ུ· Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

I'd like to think that Price would have a pretty big wedding, I mean just think of all the people he knows and has met along the years coming to celebrate this day, there's some people he's close with and even consider his family, of course they won't miss out on this opportunity to be there for him, the speeches would take forever because everyone wants to say something

He's just so happy on this day that he can't think of anything else, he doesn't care about whether the wedding is at a venue, church, barn, outdoors, he just cares that everything turns out alright, so he'll be perfectly fine if you decide to go with something simpler

If you're nervous while walking down the aisle he'll be waiting for you at the altar, smiling and looking at you the entire time, gazes meeting and transmitting a warmth and calming energy that everything has and will turn out just how you want it

He just considers himself the luckiest man alive to be able to marry you

Ghost

His wedding wouldn't be big, something on the more average/small size, he has his close friends by his side and doesn't want to bother inviting anyone else he hasn't talked to in the past year, he knows exactly who truly cares and who deserves to be there

He'd groan seeing Johnny stand up to give a speech knowing he's about to sit through some embarrassingly horrid stories this man is about to spill

That is unless you have a lot of people you know, he wouldn't be at all against you inviting your share of people to the wedding he just doesn't want the reception to last too long to the point he's feeling more drained or stressed on the joyous occasion

After the ceremony and eating he'd be fine for MAYBE three hours max before suggesting y'all sneak off and just go to your room for the night, doesn't give a single fuck that it's his wedding he's going to let the guests have their fun while you have yours a little earlier than what you planned

Soap

He'd be nervous on the day, he's standing there, nervously smiling as he fidgets with his fingers, fixing his tie, his eyes wandering about the room until he hears the crowd gasp and he looks to the other side and sees you standing there, he is in awe of how you look, and when you get to stand in front of him he tells you how breathtaking you look, you jokingly ask if you don't always look breathtaking and he responds that you look especially radiant today

He's so lost in your eyes that when he has to answer "I do" he doesn't even hear the question, his mind not registering anything other than how stunning you look, the crowd laughs when he has to snap out of it and stammer an "I do"

When he goes in for the kiss he goes a bit too far and it almost turns into a heated kiss but you have to tap his shoulder reminding him that there's probably a kid or two among the guests

He is so happy he doesn't even care who is or isn't amongst the crowd, that lame ex of yours who somehow snuck in when you didn't even invite him? He barely bats and eye at it and just pulled you close for a kiss whenever they came near

Gaz

Both of you just keep sharing deep, meaningful looks as you see all the people you're the closest with arriving, he probably gets emotional when he was trying his best trying to keep it in and not lose it while he listened to your say your vows, especially when you momentary look up at him to say it

And he's waiting for when the officiant says he can kiss you so he can reach out, one arm around your waist and another cupping your face as he places a tender kiss on your lips just so when he pulls back you see the brightest smile on his face

I think a beach wedding would be ideal for him, idk he just seems like the outdoorsy type, and this is the best place he could come up with when asked where he'd like to get married, that or maybe in the mountains where he can see the beautiful scenery as you say yours vows

He'd love it if you watched the sunset together that day, as if nature were also sealing this promise between you, the scenery would one day serve as a nostalgic memory on which he can think back fondly of, everything from the soft breeze in the air, whether it be the sound of waves crashing as they reach his feet at the beach or the smell of pine trees in the mountainside

Roach

Omg y'all would would the cutest outdoor wedding, just imagine having it in a garden or by a beautiful lake with the golden sun that shines not in a harsh way but instead in a pleasant manner

And you both have your little quirks added in here and there, you compliment each other super well in that aspect that it's not even seen as unusual if the other references something because you totally get it

He'd have imagined this a million times, the night before he rehearsed his vows over and over again, he doesn't look up quotes or what to say, no this man lies on the floor and waits for the words to come to him, and the phrases that he writes come so naturally that he's having a hard time keeping it on only one sheet of paper

He'd probably go off the script, saying more than he intended until you're having to control yourself before you tackle and press kisses all over his face from now much you love him

He closes his eyes and feels incredibly lucky to have lived long enough to meet you and survive long enough through those missions to earn his moment of happiness that he hopes will last for the rest of his life

Alejandro

Have you heard of Mexican weddings? Anyone who finds out about the wedding is attending even if they weren’t originally invited and that last bit of dancing and drinking? It could go on until the next day

Forget getting any sleep, there is so much to stress over because the amount of people arriving could almost count for a festival itself, so much food is being prepared for all the guests that it’s overwhelming

And Alejandro would love every second of it, it’s all fun having so many people come together to celebrate and wish you all a happy marriage

The ideal place for Alejandro to get married would be at a cathedral, obviously it's only an option but it's where he's remembered weddings traditionally taking place at since he was a kid, he's always imagined it'd be him one day walking through those doors after getting married and having people throw rice at him as a newlywed

He behaves himself most of the time but as the evening turns into night his fingertips brush along your sides and you feel his breath on your nape as he whispers naughty things into your ears

Rudy

I'd like to imagine that Rudy would let you invite as many or as little people as you'd like, he wouldn't put a limit to any of it, and when you start getting stressed over wedding preparations he's able to just hold your hands in his and remind you how lucky he is to have you marry him, that anything will do and that it will all be a memory one day, so why worry and instead focus on making it a delightful one?

And after all the partying and celebrating, you're both left standing there alone in the venue, he takes your hand gently, his eyes gazing softly into yours as you dance to a song that he saved for only the two of you to dance to alone, I can imagine it being a song you listened to on the first date as he drove you home and now it's playing on your wedding day

You've probably held hands all day, from the moment you joined hands when at the altar, to walking down the aisle, to entering the dance floor for the first dance, and while you're both off to the side just sipping your drinks and still holding hands

But he wants to take a moment after all the guests have left to bask in this moment and soak in the feeling, asking you if everything turned out to your liking, just imagine laying in his arms as he holds you and you're both stargazing; a serene end to your night

Phillip Graves

The biggest, fattest wedding you can think of, everyone and their mothers are there, or in this case his Shadows and possibly anyone who's had at least one interaction with him, he's practically announcing it to the entire world

And I may be stereotypical when I say this but it's a barn wedding, the amount of times I've seen southern people go for barn weddings is insane I can't- my old riding place hosted those

It's beautiful nonetheless, he doesn't care who ends up going or not but all his Shadows are more than enthusiastic to celebrate with their boss, they've been teasing him nonstop since they found out he was dating you and now they won't stop especially since you're getting married

Tons of gifts and presents that you receive you swear you probably won't ever have to buy anything ever again, this is THE wedding that no wedding you've attended before or you'll attend in the future will ever compare to, it's that picture perfect that the venue owners ask to use the pictures on their website for advertisement

Makarov

I really feel like he'd be more the type to have it be a private wedding, that doesn't mean it isn't luxurious if anything he doesn't have a budget at all when trying to make you happy, he just leaves all the choices up to you, as long as you don't get stressed, the actual wedding planning is left to a wedding planner he hires you just have to sit there, look pretty and choose what ribbons you think would go best with the theme

As the wedding date approaches he gets more serious, and you worry he'd rethinking this whole thing or maybe he's stressed? On the day of turns out he had planned surprise after surprise for you, even though you thought you had been the one to choose most of the wedding theme and decoration turns out he himself had gone out and done a few things as well

He'd have hired a live band to play the music of your choice as you walk down the aisle, you're mesmerized by how it turned out, the adornments make the place look beautiful, but while you're admiring all this you don't notice him looking at you, you're the most extraordinary person he's met and he'll get to spend the rest of his life with you

Keegan

You guys eloped, originally the plan had been for a small, private wedding, you already had the list of people you would invite, but halfway through planning it you both stopped, looked at each other and just threw the plan away, you married with an officiant and two witnesses who happened to walk by

Even if people told you that you would later regret not having planned and waited for a big wedding you're the happiest you've ever been in this moment, the excitement rushing through not only yours but his veins that make every small detail seem perfect in this moment

People are probably wondering if you're both insane as you run together hand in hand down the streets, laughing and just happy that you're being carefree in this moment, just two souls in the expanse of this universe who have formed a deep connection in one another, what's not to be joyful about?

The future may be uncertain but it doesn't matter to neither of you, you've both had your difficult times but you deserve your happy epilogue

König

He's not one for big weddings, he cares more about the quality of it, which means he's very picky at the people who'll attend, he knows that at these events people tend to try and have their way when it's not even theirs, he simply doesn't want to deal with any unpleasant surprises when people he doesn't even know show up

When you appear he thinks there is no heaven greater than the one he is experiencing now, he thinks about all the chances there were before and now fortunate he is to meet you in your time and find each other when the world is so vast and time is fleeting

The vows he says in front of everyone are different from the ones he says only for you to hear in private that night, that's when he truly gets to be honest and say what he couldn't in front of all those people

There are many lovers in the world but none like you

Horangi

He's super passive about everything, you're sort of annoyed that he can never be bothered to worry about anything as much you do, colors for the wedding theme? He just shrugs and says a horrid color combination that could never work, it took him a three minutes max to choose what he would wear, BUT THEN on the day of when you're both in your separate rooms getting ready he's trying to get himself together because he's so overwhelmed by all the emotions he's experiencing right now

I think overall the wedding wouldn't be neither too big nor small, just the right amount of people from his side that are family members who have supported or come around to support him on this occasion and members he's close to

He's able to pull himself together though and try not to let his emotions get the best of him, he gets quite into the dancing along with you he swears he's never before felt as alive in the moment, he's grateful he was able to get his life together for you

Nikto

He wouldn't say anything about how he wants the wedding to be, whether it's big or small that's up to you, he doesn't care who you invite either, just as long as his favorite foods are served and he gets to enjoy good music for a little while before heading home with you is all that matters, oh and drinks, don't forget the alcohol

At some point throughout the night he sits back and watches as you dance with a friend of family member of yours and he thinks how funny it is that he ended up marrying you, when he first met you he couldn't have imagined that a single interaction with you could have let to this lifechanging moment

He can sleep calmly with you by his side, in his arms, safe and with no one to harm you if he's there, he may not admit it but this marriage only means he'll be like velcro to your side, that line he had always dreamed of securing? It'd be hard to get away from him

As long as this world continues he'll gladly be stuck with you, you've accepted him not matter how broken and scarred he is and he'll spend the rest of his life demonstrating with acts how much you mean to him, after all, it is the little things and acts in life that have made it truly worth living

[gf2bellamy]

hi loveee i have a new request for uuuu

another rlly simple and cute one where spencer just loves head scratches (no this is totally not based on me……) and he somehow exposes that to the whole team and it’s just some rlly cute thing (bonus points if they’re on the jet and at the end after all the teasing he just lays his head on reader’s lap and gets head scratches)

you can decide whether it’s pre or secret relationship :D

danke schön

- 🐚

headscratches — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of a case, just a tiny bit ( very tiny bit ) of angst, secret relationship a/n: hiiiiii 🐚 ! i totally get u i love head scratches too - thank you for ur request i hope you like this <3<3<3

Your exhausted feet carried you up the steps of the BAU jet, every muscle in your body aching from the long case. It had been a grueling few days—little sleep, too much stress, and way too many hours spent chasing down leads. But at least it was over now. The case was closed, and you could finally breathe. 

Thankfully, your wonderful boyfriend had taken it upon himself to carry your bag, saving you from having to drag it up the stairs yourself. You barely managed to collapse into one of the plush seats by the window before Spencer stowed your things away and settled in beside you. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, turning your head to look at him. 

Spencer gave you a small, knowing smile, his eyes softening as he nodded. “Of course.” 

The two of you were alone on the jet, at least for now. The rest of the team was still wrapping things up , which meant you had a few rare, stolen moments of privacy. It was a relief—not just because you could finally let your guard down, but because no one on the team knew about your relationship.

Keeping things under wraps was tricky, especially when you worked together every day, but moments like this made it worth it. 

As the jet’s engines hummed to life beneath you, Spencer leaned into you slightly, his shoulder brushing against yours. He always did that when you were alone, like some part of him just naturally gravitated toward you when there was no one around to notice. 

Without thinking, you turned to your side reaching up and gently brushing a few strands of hair from his face.

His hair was always a little unruly after a long case, messy curls falling into his eyes, and you had developed a habit of fixing it for him. 

He let out a quiet breath at your touch, his eyelids fluttering slightly as he relaxed against you. 

“You okay?” you asked, your voice softer now, laced with quiet concern.

Spencer gave a small nod, offering you a gentle smile. “I’m okay,” he murmured. Then, tilting his head slightly, he asked, “Are you?”

You nodded, and before you could say anything else, his hand found your knee, his touch light and reassuring as his fingers traced slow, absentminded patterns.

But the moment didn’t last long.

The familiar voices of your team filled the jet, breaking the quiet, and as soon as Spencer registered their presence, his hand slipped away.

Like it had never been there at all.

Spencer immediately reached for his satchel, pulling out a book as if he had been reading the entire time. You turned your gaze toward the window, pretending to be lost in thought.

It wasn’t long before Emily and Derek flopped into the seats across from you.

“I can’t wait to get home to Sergio,” Emily sighed, stretching out in her seat. 

Derek chuckled. “That cat’s got you wrapped around his little paw.” 

You turned toward her, curiosity piqued. “How is he?” 

Emily waved a hand. “Same as always. Demanding, dramatic, and somehow convinced he’s royalty.” She rolled her eyes fondly before adding, “Lately, he’s been obsessed with head scratches. I swear, if I even walk past the couch, he flops over immediately demanding them." 

You laughed. “Sounds about right for a cat.” 

Emily shook her head. “I don’t get it. What’s so great about them? He acts like it’s the greatest thing in the world.” 

Before you could reply, Spencer, who had been silent up until now, lowered his book to his lap and spoke without hesitation. 

“Head scratches are scientifically proven to reduce stress and increase oxytocin levels,” he stated matter-of-factly. “The repetitive motion stimulates nerve endings in the scalp, which can trigger a relaxation response. It’s also associated with bonding, which is why many social animals, including humans, find it soothing. It's quite comforting.” 

It took a second for the weight of his words to register. 

Then, as if on cue, all three of you turned to look at him. 

Spencer blinked, his lips parting slightly as he realized his mistake. His book was still open in his lap, but he suddenly seemed much more interested in the stitching of the pages than the words on them. 

Derek’s grin spread slow and wide. “Wait a minute…” 

Emily gasped. “Oh my god.” 

You barely held back a smile, eyes locked on Spencer as the tips of his ears turned a shade of pink. He opened his mouth, probably to backpedal, but it was already too late. 

Derek leaned forward, resting his arms on the table infront of him as he grinned. “Are you telling me you like head scratches, pretty boy?” 

Spencer quickly looked down, flipping a page in his book despite very clearly not reading it. “I was simply stating a scientific fact.” 

Emily wasn’t letting it go. “Oh no, no, no. That was way too specific.” 

Derek laughed loudly, leaning forward with a wicked grin as he reached out and ruffled Spencer’s curls. 

Spencer immediately jerked back, his entire body tensing as he shot Derek a horrified glare. He hastily smoothed down his hair, his blush deepening. 

Derek, of course, looked way too pleased with himself. “Oh, come on, I had to test the theory,” he teased, shaking his head. “And judging by that reaction, I’d say someone is pretty damn picky about where his head scratches come from.” 

Emily laughed, clearly entertained by the discovery. “Seems like he doesn’t like it when you do it,” she pointed out, eyes flicking between the two of them with amusement. 

Derek leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Yeah, I noticed. Interesting.” 

Spencer huffed, flipping a page in his book with a little too much force. “It’s not that interesting,” he muttered, keeping his gaze stubbornly locked on the text. 

You smiled to yourself at Spencer’s embarrassed form, watching the way he kept his head down, pretending to be deeply engrossed in the book in his lap. You knew better, of course. 

You knew Spencer liked head scratches—most of your evenings together looked exactly like that. Him stretched across the couch, head resting in your lap, curls slipping through your fingers as he read.

Emily, still watching you, narrowed her eyes slightly before shifting her gaze to Derek. The two of them exchanged a look—one of those silent conversations that meant absolutely nothing good. 

“Spencer Reid,” Emily drawled, her grin widening, “do you only like head scratches coming from certain people?” 

Spencer slowly looked up from his book, suspicion evident in the way he narrowed his eyes. “What?” 

Derek smirked. “You heard Prentiss.” He leaned forward. “Do you only like head scratches when they’re from her?” 

You turned toward them, blinking. Wait, what? 

It was a known fact that the two of you were close. If someone was looking for Spencer, they usually found him with you. If you were missing from the bullpen, Spencer always knew exactly where you were. And everyone on the team knew he wasn’t a particularly touchy person—except with you. 

What they didn’t know was why. 

What they didn’t know was that this wasn’t just friendship. 

That the late-night conversations, the lingering looks, the small, stolen touches all meant something more. 

That you weren’t just his best friend. 

You were his. 

And now, you were all sitting on the jet, the team watching way too closely, Spencer’s ears burning bright red as Derek and Emily smirked. 

Spencer cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “That’s—” He hesitated, eyes flickering to you for just a second before looking back at his book. “That’s not relevant.” 

Emily gasped. 

“Oh my god,” she whispered, turning to Derek, “that was not a denial.” 

Derek grinned. “Nope, not at all.” 

Spencer groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is ridiculous.” 

You pressed your lips together, trying so hard not to laugh. 

Emily tilted her head, eyes gleaming with mischief. “So, hypothetically, if someone else did it…” 

Spencer shot her a sharp glare. “Hypothetically, they wouldn’t.” 

Derek laughed, pointing at him. “Oh yeah. That’s so an exclusive privilege.” He turned to you, grinning. “Man, you must be special.” 

You shrugged, playing it cool despite the warmth creeping up your neck. “I guess I just have the magic touch.” 

Spencer exhaled sharply, closing his book with a thud. He turned to you, eyes soft but exasperated. “Are you enjoying this?” 

"Maybe." You shrugged your shoulders as you gave him a teasing smile.

Spencer shook his head, feigning disappointment—but you knew better. He was never disappointed in you.

You smiled softly, and out of habit, reached up to brush his hair out of his face. His eyes flickered shut for a moment, just barely, before reopening with a look that was almost a warning.

A silent, don’t push your luck. 

But you were in the mood to tease. 

To your luck, Derek was already slipping his headphones on, and Emily had her eyes closed, arms crossed as she settled into her seat. The hum of the jet filled the space, covering the small shuffle of movement as you let your fingers slip back into Spencer’s curls. 

His breath hitched, and you felt him tense—just for a second—before melting like he always did. 

You bit back a grin as your nails gently scratched against his scalp, moving in slow, soothing circles. 

Spencer exhaled, the tension in his shoulders draining as his eyes fluttered shut again. His grip on his book loosened slightly. 

You loved how easy it was, how little effort it took to make him relax. 

His head dipped slightly, unconsciously leaning into your touch, and you took the opportunity to gently guide him down. Your hand pressed lightly to the back of his head, tilting him so that his cheek brushed against your shoulder. 

For a moment, he resisted—a small, fleeting moment of hesitation—before giving in entirely. 

You kept scratching lightly, feeling the way his body settled beside you, warm and familiar. Your fingers threaded through his curls, slow and deliberate, as he let out the softest sigh. 

You smiled, pressing your cheek lightly against the top of his head. 

Spencer Reid, the most brilliant mind you had ever known, was undone by something as simple as your fingers in his hair. 

And you loved it. 

Your eyes drifted shut, fingers still moving in slow, rhythmic motions through Spencer’s hair. His soft curls tickled your cheek as you rested your head against his.

What you didn’t notice? 

The way Derek and Emily were now watching the two of you like hawks. 

Derek, one side of the headphone pushed back , slowly raised an eyebrow as he exchanged a look with Emily. She barely suppressed a grin, tilting her head slightly, as if to say, Are you seeing this? 

Oh, he was definitely seeing this. 

They had their theories, of course. The team had always suspected there was more to you and Spencer than just friendship. It was the little things—the way he only let you touch him so easily, the way you always knew how to get him out of his head when no one else could, the way he looked at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky. 

And now? 

Now, with Spencer completely nestled against you, his head tucked against your shoulder, your fingers threading through his curls that could only come from familiarity? 

Yeah. Their theories had just been confirmed. 

Derek smirked, leaning closer to Emily. “Told you.” 

Emily scoffed, but the amusement in her eyes was unmistakable. “You didn’t tell me anything, Morgan. We both knew.” 

Derek chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “Man, they really thought they were being sneaky.” 

Emily grinned. “Should we say something?” 

Derek considered it for a moment, watching as your fingers absentmindedly combed through Spencer’s hair, his entire body visibly at ease. 

He let out a small laugh. “No. Let them have their moment.” 

For now, at least. 

Because later? 

Oh, they were absolutely going to tease the hell out of you both. 

[revelboo]

Queen Revel i am ON MY KNEES begging for the next part of point of extinction because HOLY SHIT DUDE HE JUST WHIPS IT OUT????

He’s just trying to help in his awkward, unsettling way. 18+

Point of Extinction Pt 13

Shockwave x Reader

• You’re averting your eyes still, face reddening. “You find my lack of experience undesirable?” He’s always been quick to pick up new skills. This will be no different. And he can’t deny some purely unscientific curiosity about it. “I would be amenable to allowing you to take the lead while I gather experience.” How would those soft hands feel on him? Tracing ridges and dipping into seams. Wants to know. This is supposed to be about you, tending to your needs, not his. Wanting this isn’t logical, but that doesn’t change that he does.

• And he just keeps making this worse somehow. Risking a look and finding him just staring at you, his one hand gripping that weapon of mass destruction between his thighs and idly touching himself. The shape’s familiar enough, if the ridges and nodes are a bit Giger-esque and pulsing with ruddy biolights that draw your eyes against your will. Forcing yourself to look anywhere but at that, he’s still doing his creepy stare, antenna back. And stroking himself. “That’s a really… flattering offer,” you manage. Stop looking at it. Stop. Dammit. “Could you not do that?” It’s too distracting.

• Letting go of his spike he approaches you and your eyes dip to his bobbing spike then pointedly back up to his single optic. “Might I suggest mutual exploration to ease Thirteen’s uncertainty?” Gently catching your hand and you allow him to guide it to his spike. And your face somehow goes even redder. Shuddering at the feel of your soft palm on him. Lifting his hand and pleased when you don’t immediately snatch yours back when he cups your cheek, servos sliding against you. Thumb sliding over your bottom lip. Another mech would kiss you, but he can’t. “You can have control of this encounter.”

• Know you should get some space between you. Definitely not stroke your fingers along the ridges of his spike, thumb sliding over the head, feeling a bead of slick there. Startling when his helm gently bumps your forehead, that optic bathing your face in red light. It’s not exactly romantic, but you’re pretty sure you’d be worried if he was trying to be romantic. He’s awkward and creepy and more than a little bit messed up. “How much control?” You ask despite yourself.

• Optic brightening, his hips rock when you slide your thumb over the tip of his spike again. It’s difficult to ease himself down without just falling, but he manages and growls when your fingers slip free of him. “Familiarize yourself as necessary. I’m open to instruction.” Holding out a hand to you and waiting while you stare down at him and for a moment that dissonance swamps him. A memory of someone else standing over him, staring down at him with cold calculation. Smiling. A stranger’s memory.

• You’re not doing this. Right? He’s just staring at you, helm tipped up and his hand outstretched. Trying your damnedest to not look at his spike. Mutual pleasure. “You’re not going to lay eggs in me or anything right?” And those antenna go back in offense. You’ll take that as a no. Maybe you’re a tiny bit tempted and he’d mentioned being inexperienced. Popping his alien cherry shouldn’t be appealing. “And you’re not going to move unless I say you can?”

• “If that’s what you require.” Head tipping he waits. And you’re so small even with him mass displaced. Maybe that’s the issue? His size? And he freezes as it sinks in how illogical this all is. That he shouldn’t actually want this. Shouldn’t care about your well being. That he’s made a series of illogical decisions since he’d first interacted with you. And those phantom memories are worse since he began interacting with you, lifting through him suddenly to leave him disoriented. The logical thing to do would be to rid himself of you, but he knows that he won’t. He can’t.

• Something’s very wrong with you for even considering this. Is this just a new experiment to him? A test to see what you’ll do? Or does he actually think he’s taking care of your needs? And you’re not actually considering it, are you? Can admit you’re a tiny bit curious, but it’s the sort of horrified curiosity you’d have for a bit of particularly awful gossip. “Why do you want to take care of me?” Resisting the urge to make air quotes as you focus on his optic since it’s safer than the intimidating jut of his spike. Unable to ask why you’d been spared ending up like the deer. And those antenna go back again.

• Staring up at you, he can’t answer, because he isn’t sure. Doesn’t know why he’d culled you from his experiments. Why the idea of harming you makes him so uncomfortable. Is it only loneliness? That you’re someone to talk to even if the conversations are stilted? Fixating on you now even when he’s working in his lab. Experiments that never bothered him before now making him hesitate simply because you wouldn’t like them. Because they’d upset you. “I’m responsible for your well-being and health,” he says, watching your expression twist. Unhappy with that answer. “And because I desire to be the one to tend to you.” He shouldn’t, but he does. Maybe your illogical, emotional humanity is rubbing off on him. Infecting him.

• There’s something perverse about even considering this. This whole time you’ve been powerless to his whims and he’s giving you permission to take control. To give him orders that he claims he’ll listen to. Yeah, there’s something very wrong with you. “Can I touch you wherever?” He’s closer to your size this way and you doubt you’re going to get another opportunity like this. Want to take advantage before your common sense and survival instincts kick back in. Not waiting for his answer as you reach to cup his head in your hands, biting your bottom lip as you toy with his bunny ears as you think of them. Watching those antenna flick at your touch. And he allows it, keeping still as you gently run your fingertips over the plating of his helm, smiling when bits lift or shift at your touch like they’re sensitive.

Previous

[writingonleaves]

to not know who i am, but still know that i'm good long as you're here with me - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x original female character

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, nothing much else i can think of!

inspired by + title: i like me better by lauv

word count: 6.4k

author's note: hello everyone!! i feel like i've been in such a rut lately but i'm glad i managed to write this one out! this is for the lovely @wyattjohnston for her winter fic exchange 2k25. demi, thank you as always for your hard work in putting this together and i hope you enjoy. sorry that it's a few days late! to everyone, please let me know what you think!!

*****

When Maia Flaherty left her usual lunchtime coffee run with a number from one very Jack Hughes, she didn’t really quite know what to think. 

“No pressure,” he had said with an easy smile. “I just think you’re pretty and the glare you gave that couple that was making out at the table next to you sold it for me.”

As she stares out on her train ride home, she’s deep in thought. This might be just a one date thing and then they find out they have nothing in common and they move on. But she knows herself. She doesn’t fall fast, but when she falls, she falls hard. What if she ends up falling harder than him, setting herself up for heartbreak. But she knows that’s also unfair to him, especially because she doesn’t know him. She appreciates his boldness in asking her out, but she doesn’t understand how he can be so confident and sure that he wants to go on a date with her. To be fair, maybe he’s only looking for something casual, to which she has even less of an idea of how to handle it, because she has never done casual and doesn’t think she could do it. 

As she’s walking the streets back to her place in West Village, she thinks about how to approach this. Knowing her, she’s too curious to not text him and she probably will think on it over the weekend. But, should she protect herself and go into this as just meeting a friend or go into this romantically? She admits that he is cute and she was the slightest bit charmed by him, but she knows that she knows nothing else about him. She takes the time to look up some of his highlights of his career (he had dropped his Instagram handle to her “just so you know I’m a real person”) and she knows that he’s good. Almost annoyingly good. As a University of Minnesota alum, she’s familiar enough with hockey as a whole. She stalks his Instagram and doesn’t find anything much besides posts with family, friends and teammates. Pretty average. But she’s still weary. 

Monday morning rolls around, and on her train to work, she takes a deep breath, clicking on his contact and copy and pasting what she had written last night. 

hi!!! it’s maia from the cafe. if the offer still stands, i’d love to go out on that date 

Not even a minute later, and she gets a response. 

what a wonderful text to get on a Monday morning

the offer absolutely still stands. what’s your schedule looking like this week?

not around during regular people work hours so monday-friday 9-5 won’t work

my weekend is pretty empty atm but idk if that works for you? i’m assuming you have games this week

no games this weekend, for once. all weeknight games.

lucky timing

lucky indeed. you around Saturday for lunch?

works for me!

you’re in jersey right? i can come out to you if that’s easier

are you kidding me?

i’m not gonna make you come out to me, especially because I’m the one who asked you out

where are you in the city? I’ll come to you

She smiles to herself.

I’m in west village, but i can meet you anywhere 

i’ll do some research after practice and get back to you?

sure

i also can suggest some places as well!! 

appreciate it. i got it though. i’m the one who asked so I feel like it’d be unfair to ask you to plan

Huh, she thinks, being surprised again. She doesn’t have much to compare to, but she can’t remember a single date she’s been on where she hasn’t been the one planning.

okay lmk if you need my help! no rush we have a whole week 

(Jack has a break in a morning practice and he’s just staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. His teammates are all making fun of him, but he pays them no mind. It’s not new for them to poke fun at him for texting girls, but he knows, he just knows that this one is different. 

He also kinda likes the idea of “we.”)

kinda wish we didn’t

oh?

saturday is so far away 

you’ll survive

She gets into the office just then and her phone is forgotten as she’s thrown into spreadsheets and meetings. It isn’t until 4 p.m. where she has the mental energy and time to look at his responses. The last text he had sent was two hours ago.  

i found a place. well, a couple

i asked some of my friends who know the city better than I do

*screenshot of list in Notes app*

i tried to find places in different parts of Manhattan, mostly in West Village. i don’t know where exactly in that area you are and how easy or hard it is for you to get wherever

sorry, just realized I’m spamming you and you’re probably working

I’m so sorry i left you hanging work was literally insane until now

honestly all of these places sound wonderful

i’ve been to a couple of them before so tell your friends they have good taste

any one in particular you like?

you choose

since you’re planning it after all 

lol

i really don’t want you having to travel that far

i literally live in nyc so if I want to see any of my friends who don’t live by me I have to travel far

and you’re literally coming from jersey

i’ll be fine with any choice you make

seriously 

He chooses one of her favorite Greek food joints about 10 blocks from where she is and she tries to put it away in her mind. She still has this whole week to go. She’s known for years that she gets overwhelmed and stressed if she thinks ahead occasionally, and this is definitely one of those times. 

(There’s a game on Wednesday night, and her best friend and roommate Carrie urges her to put it on TV in the background while they’re eating dinner. Carrie knows next to nothing about hockey, so Maia tries to explain it to her. But most of the time, she’s quiet and her eyes are zeroed in on 86. Or trying to, because everyone skates so fucking fast. He scores a goal and assists another, and she knows that that’s literally his job, but she can’t help but feel something watching him skate around so confidently. 

She’s always respected the skill it takes to play hockey. Skating is hard. But the hockey attitude wasn’t always something that she loved. She understands that she’s projecting a lot of unwarranted judgement. But she doesn't think it’s all based on lies.

As the minutes wind down in the game, she zones out. She really doesn’t understand how or why this literal superstar of the sport just approached her and after knowing literally nothing about her, asked her out. This shit doesn’t happen to her. She also knows the usual crowd that hockey players go for. She’s not blonde. She’s not a model. She’s not anything like that. 

What does he want from her?)

*****

She wakes up Saturday morning a bit groggy, thanks to the glasses of wine her and Carrie had the night before. She goes through her morning routine, but decides to forgo the coffee and make a smoothie instead. She usually likes to sip on her coffee for hours rather than down it all in one go. And she knows if she downs it, she’ll start shaking. 

She doesn’t need to be shaking today. 

Carrie stumbles out when Maia just leaves the bathroom and offers to make a smoothie for her. With a yawn, Carrie nods as she slides past her to go into the bathroom. 

It’s 9:48 a.m. They’re meeting right at noon, so she has a bit of time. Her phone buzzes right after she finishes cleaning the blender. 

good morning! see you soon

She just sends back a couple of emojis, before scrolling around on her social media accounts, sipping on her smoothie. It’s just the waiting now that’s making her more nervous. 

She already knows what she’s gonna wear. An olive green sweater she bought recently that she’s been loving, black leggings, brown booties and earrings that she got years ago when she studied abroad. She’s leaving her hair down and putting some light makeup on. Nothing crazy. This is literally lunch. And she’s not gonna overthink for a boy. 

Carrie proves to be a good distraction, simultaneously hyping her up, assuring her and talking about other things to keep her head level. She walks to the subway station and goes on the train, airpods in. This is all routine. The way there is no stranger to her, often meeting up with her brother for dinner around the area. 

She checks the time. On time. 

She approaches the restaurant’s front at 11:57 and decides to walk in and grab a table. She stops in her tracks when she sees that he’s already there, in the corner by the window that she usually loves to sit at. He’s wearing a gray sweater and blue jeans, a baseball cap flipped backwards on his head. She waves off the hostess and heads in his direction. 

He looks up from his phone and immediately locks it, standing up. She smiles in greeting and he comes around to grab her bag as she shrugs off her jacket. She thanks him softly, to which he just smiles back at. As she’s sitting down, he pours out some water.

“You didn’t get lost getting here?” She jokes. 

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not that directionally challenged. Just not used to it.”

“That’s what you get for living in Jersey.”

“Oh. So that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

And that just sets the tone for the rest of the date. It’s…surprisingly easy. The follow up question immediately is if she’s from the city, to which she snorts and says “absolutely not,” but she’s been living here for over two years now. She grew up in Buffalo, she says, and went to college at University of Minnesota, to which he, of course, widens his eyes. “You went to Minnesota, and you’re not a hockey fan?” She rolls her eyes. “When did I say I’m not a hockey fan?” She talks about how yes, she went to a couple of games when she was there and they were always fun, but she wasn’t necessarily an avid fan. 

He talks about growing up in Toronto even though he was born in Orlando and then going to Michigan and how hockey was literally just his life from a young age, especially with parents who were also involved, as well as an older and a younger brother growing up to play too. Sure, she knows all of this (she couldn’t help herself and did enough research), but it is nice and different to hear from him directly. She does slip for a second and makes fun of his private school upbringing (“It tracks.”) but the shocked delight on his face lets her know that he doesn’t take offense. 

As they order the food and it comes and they start eating, she lets herself be charmed. She didn’t expect him to be so…normal. Normal in the way that she often forgot that he was one of the best hockey players in the country. Normal in the way that parts of him remind her of her closest guy friends. But then he would mention something about his career or just a random detail in his life that would make her remember. 

She notices that he also is very aware of how much he talks. It’s natural for her to ask more questions, because that’s just how she’s wired, but he turns questions back to her that excite her or make her laugh, and then she goes on a minor tangent. It’s very back and forth. Balanced. 

She’s having a really good time. 

She expected him to be more…straight-forward in terms of flirting, due to how he asked her out, but he’s not. He seems a bit nervous at times even, chuckling adorably and avoiding eye contact, but then he says something that’s so just so incredibly confident that makes her flustered or let out a scoff of disbelief. 

Before they know it, they’re done eating. She protests when he immediately grabs the check and pulls out his card, to which he just playfully glares at her for. She does relent and thanks him, and she’ll never forget the boyish smile he gave her. 

They’re both on the same page, not wanting their time together to end quite yet, lingering to leave. And then she suggests grabbing a coffee from a place around the corner and walking to a nearby park. She teases him, asking if he’ll get cold to which he scoffs at (“I’m basically a Canadian and I live at the rink. I’ll be fine. Will you?” She laughs. “I was born and raised in Buffalo. Don’t worry about me.”) 

They grab coffee (to which she puts her foot down and pays and he lets her), him a black coffee and her an iced chai, and she leads them leisurely to a nearby park. It’s a little chilly, but it’s not windy which is good, and they find an empty bench and sit down, their conversation and battering just coming so incredibly easy. Even to the point where sometimes, she’s not necessarily calling him out, but she’s challenging some of his thoughts. She’s not shattering his confidence at all, but definitely subtly giving him a reality check and just being honest.

And not even purposefully. It’s just how she is.

(He really appreciates it, actually. It’s been awhile since someone who he’s just met isn’t afraid to challenge him off the rink. He loves the attention and always has, and she’s giving that to him, but there’s also something innate in her that’s so grounded and in turns, grounds him.)

But it’s also different. It’s different when he randomly throws out a compliment here and there, saying how he loves her laugh and how cute she is. The way he’s paying attention to everything she’s saying. The way he just can’t help but chuckle almost incredulously because she’s so much more than he imagined, even though he’s the one who asked her out. 

Before they know it, it’s almost 4 and they’ve been chatting the whole time. Yet somehow, it still feels like they could keep going. She walks him to the nearest subway station since it’s on her way home. She gives him a farewell hug and he follows his gut and kisses her on the cheek, promising to text her. She smiles one more time before turning to walk back to her apartment.

When she gets back to her place, Carrie’s there and ready for a recap. She says everything she can remember them talking about, which is a lot, while Carrie just listens carefully. Throughout it, she’s trying to downplay it, probably for self-preservation purposes, looking back. Carrie lets her dwell on it occasionally, but also interrupts when needed to try to assure her friend that she’s a catch and there’s a reason he asked her out in the first place and she can’t play herself down like that. 

What she knows for a fact at this point is that she likes spending time with him, and she does have romantic feelings for him. Everything else? She has no idea. She has no idea if they’d pair together well. She has no idea what he wants from this. She has no idea how he actually feels about her, because he could’ve just thrown out those compliments because he’s naturally flirty. It wouldn’t surprise her. And god, she can’t help but let her mind wander into his career and being in the spotlight and how that just affects…everything.

She just doesn’t know. 

(Meanwhile, he returns to an empty place, Luke out with some friends for the night. He can’t stop smiling, replaying the whole day in his head. She’s just so much more than he expected, able to keep up with his quips, often beating them. She laughs and smiles so freely. She’s so damn smart. She’s beautiful. 

He’s had his fair share of hookups and casual things, but this? This is different. It’s scary, he thinks, that he’s this invested after one date. It’s unfamiliar territory, and there’s so much more he wants to know about her. 

He needs to know everything he can about her. Before she figures out that she’s way too good for him.)

*****

Four weeks pass, and they haven’t seen each other. There have been some sporadic texts here and there, but with the chaos of both their jobs and then Thanksgiving, it hasn’t accounted to more than that. 

(She’s trying to get over it and let it pass. He wants anything but that)

On an early December evening, Maia’s just finished cleaning up the dishes when she gets a call. When she sees his name, she blinks. She clicks accept.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Jack.”

She can’t help but chuckle a bit. “Yeah, I know. What’s up?”

“How are you? How was your Thanksgiving?”

“I’m doing okay. Thanksgiving was good! I got to go back home for a few days. How about you? Did you even have a break?”

“Not really. I had some family come to watch some games though, so that was nice.”

“I’m sure it was,” she hums. 

“Listen-I…I know it’s been awhile.”

“Almost a month.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out guiltily. “I-I’m really sorry about that. I’ve…the season’s just been so crazy and, yeah. I’ve been meaning to reach out sooner, but just, like. Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she replies automatically. “I get it. Your schedule is crazy. I feel like you have a game every other day.”

“You’ve been keeping up?” He teases lightly. 

She rolls her eyes. “A bit more than I used to, sure. But that really doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs a bit, before settling down into a serious tone. “If you have time, or if you even want to, because I totally understand why you wouldn’t, I’d love to go out again. I just, I had a really good time with you last time. Again, I know I…if you say no, I get it.”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds, but she knows her answer. “I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she smiles to herself at his surprised tone. “You surprised?”

“A bit. I mean, I kinda fell off the face of the planet. I would understand if you didn’t want to see me again.”

“Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“When are you free?”

He sighs. “This week? Not much, unfortunately. I’m only around for dinner tomorrow and Friday, and then I’m gone for a few days on a stretch of away games.”

“Wanna do tomorrow?”

“You around?”

She snorts. “I’m not as busy as you are, Mr. NHL. I’m free most weeknights.”

He lets out a low laugh. “Okay, yeah. Tomorrow night’s perfect. I’ll actually be in the city in the afternoon to meet up with a friend so I’ll just stay and meet you around there.”

“Oh good. I don’t have to pretend I want to go to Jersey.”

“This again?”

She laughs. “I can choose this time. Do you know where you’re meeting your friend?

“Yeah. I have his address. Hang on, I’ll send it to you.” Seconds later, her phone buzzes and she briefly looks at the location on Google Maps. 

“Oh. Battery Park. That’s close to where I am. You must really like this friend if you’re willing to travel that far. It’s a pretty long way from Newark.”

“Right? That’s what I told him. So, tomorrow night, yeah?”

“Yeah. I can figure out a place and I’ll let you know tomorrow morning the latest if that works? What kind of food do you like?”

“Anything you like.”

“Jack.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay, okay. How does ramen sound?”

“Perfect. I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I’ll text you,”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.”

Tomorrow comes, this time at a lowkey but busy ramen place where they’re sat side by side and their knees are touching. Jack’s hair is out this time, and the waves are falling across his forehead and she just loves the way it looks. He notices the two rings she’s wearing as one quickly catches a light in the restaurant. They continue on from the last time they talked but this time, swimming the surface of deeper conversations. 

She talks about her constant doubts about her job and how she sometimes just wants to pick up and movs somewhere else and start new. He talks about how he knows he’s good at hockey and knows this is the only path for him, but how he recognizes that outsiders look and sometimes see a sell-out or someone who doesn’t work hard. But he’s learned to just put his head down and play and to do it well. That’s something she can also relate to. 

She talks about how her relationship with her older brother is one that she’s found to be very grateful for, especially because they’re so far apart in age. A lot of who she is is based on his personality. He talks about being the middle child and being close in age to his brothers, and how competition was always just built into every activity they did. He’s realized, especially as he’s gotten older, how much he appreciates his brothers and having all three of them being in the same league, with Luke on the same team, and going through similar experiences but also completely different trajectories. 

(Somewhere, they both take a few sake shots and Maia’s not quite drunk, but buzzing, her laughter more free and her face redder).

Even semi-intoxicated, she decides not to ask the questions she really wants to yet that focus around them and what they are, unclear of where they stand. They’re sitting so close to each other and she relishes in it, wanting more. When she runs a hand through her hair to push it back, she notices his eyes flickering at that action, which means…nothing. She has to break away eye contact sometimes because he’s just staring at her so intensely. 

No wonder he has girls wanting him left and right, she thinks. She’s kind of no better. 

Towards the end of the night (he paid again and she only let him after he said he would let her pay next time. Next time), they plan out vaguely when they’ll see each other next. He’s away for the next week or so, and she just shrugs. She gets it. It would be naive of her to think she can change it. “I’ll let you know the second I land,” he says, and she just nods. She then jokes that maybe their next date could be skating, and he rolls his eyes, though he takes it into consideration. When he asks if she’s serious, she snorts, “I mean, sure. But you’re not gonna have to teach me how, if that’s what you’re going for.” He laughs. Loudly.

When they part ways, he hugs her tightly and for a long time. She breathes him in subtly, her eyes fluttering shut when she feels him press a lingering kiss on her forehead. 

Maybe that’s when she should’ve asked. Because that act was way too intimate to feel friendly. But she didn’t, and she watched him walk away, chuckling as he turned around to shoot her a parting wink. 

She went to sleep that night, somehow, with so many thoughts circling around her mind)

*****

Maia has an idea of when he’s landing, so she’s not surprised when she gets a call on a Thursday night.

He seems a bit out of breath, and she asks him if everything’s okay. Everything’s fine, he says. He just landed back in Newark and is heading home. He cuts to the chase, and asks if she’s around the next night. She blinks, because she knows he has a game. He clarifies. Is she around after the game? (“Or for the game,” he adds quickly. “If you want to come, I can get you tickets.”) While she’s flattered, she knows that’s crossing a line at this point and she politely turns down his offer. But yeah, she says. I’m around after. What’s up? He asks if he can take her out on a date. And she knows her answer (it’s obviously yes) but she says only if she’s allowed to go to him in Jersey. He protests immediately, but she shuts him up (“Both of our dates have been way closer to where I am. It’s only fair, Maia.”) 

It’s gonna be a late night date, since the game (assuming no overtime) won’t end until at least 10:00. He’s not sure what he has in store, but she’s okay with not knowing. The only thing he assures her of is that he’ll drive her back into the city afterwards. Traffic should be light, so she doesn’t fight him. 

(That should’ve been another hint that this was something worth pursuing. She has a hard time letting go of control of plans, especially with people she hasn’t known for awhile.

She trusts him already)

When he hangs up, she thinks for a second. He had told her during their last date that he would let her know the second he landed. 

And he did. 

Huh.

*****  

The next night, she’s nervous. 

Dinner’s already been eaten. She caught the first period of his game, but had to leave to catch her trains to meet him. With encouraging words from Carrie paired with some hype up music, she’s on her way.

When she steps out of the station on this abnormally warm December night, she immediately sees him leaning against his car. His hair is damp from the shower he probably just took, and he’s sporting a peacoat over a sweater and blue jeans. 

He perks up when he sees her and she practically skips over to him. She smiles and pulls him into a hug, and she feels him press a light kiss in her hair. 

“Hey.” She says softly. 

“Hi,” he mutters in her hair, pulling away to lean down and place a kiss on her cheek. “It’s good to see you.” He opens the door for her as she slides in, and she’s thankful that she followed her instincts and dressed comfortably in her beloved Minnesota sweatshirt, stifling a yawn as she thanked him. She puts on her seatbelt and leans back, watching him climb in. 

He turns to her, “Wanna aux?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, already fiddling around to connect her Apple carplay. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” He chuckles, looking behind him to pull onto the road. 

She shrugs. “What kind of music do you want?”

“Whatever you want.”

She snorts. “You don’t mean that.” She scrolls through her playlists and debates on which one to do. “I saw that you guys lost. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he replies automatically and she catches his eye and gives him a look of doubt. He corrects himself. “Okay, it’s frustrating, but none of that right now. I wanna hear about you. How’s your week been? Did that thing with your boss get resolved?”

She blinks. Right. She had mentioned that briefly when he called her earlier in the week. “Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I don’t know. You gotta learn which battles to fight, you know? This one is one I don’t have to win.”

He nods with a soft hum, stopping at a red light. “Do you like milkshakes?”

She chuckles a bit at the change of topic. “I don’t mind them.”

“Wanna get some right now?”

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No,” he admits. “Because I want one.”

“That can’t be on the diet plan you athletes have going on.” 

“Oh, it definitely isn’t. Worth it though.”

“Do they have oreo or cookies and cream?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.” He grins, and she takes a couple seconds just to watch it. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Thanks for coming out to Jersey at 10 pm.”

She chuckles. His heart drops to his stomach. “I had nothing else to do on a Friday night.”

He snorts. “Yeah, okay. I don’t believe that.”

“Really?”

He shrugs.

She leans back into her seat. “I don’t have the energy to hang out with people every night. Respect to the people who do. That’s just never been me. I can sit for hours and not talk to anyone.”

“You’re an introvert, then.”

“Is that surprising?”

He takes a second to think about it. “Yes, one, because you always talk about your friends so I know you have a lot. And two, because we literally talked for four hours on our first date.”

She shrugs, looking straight ahead of her to get the courage to respond. “There’s very few people in my life who I can talk with for hours.”

“I’ll consider myself lucky, then.”

She looks back over to him, watching as he shoots her a quick smile before he focuses back on the road. “How’s your week been?”

“The usual. Practices and games and travelling in the west coast, so I’m a little jetlagged, which isn’t great.”

“I didn’t realize that you guys play games like, every other day. Which is dumb, because like, it makes sense, but that just sounds exhausting. What am I saying though? It’s literally your job.”

He laughs softly and she tries to ignore the warmth spreading across her skin. “It can be tiring, for sure. But yeah, I love it, you know? Wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Just then, they pull into this small, unassuming diner and roll right through the drive-thru. He orders a chocolate milkshake and she gets an oreo one, and before he can think about it, she forces her credit card in his hand. He laughs and relents, and they pull out and are back on the road quickly. She sips on her milkshake and smiles to herself, not even asking where he’s driving them to next. 

(She thinks they could be anywhere and she’d still want to keep talking to him forever. He thinks that practically every worry in his life could fade away if he could look at her smile for the rest of his life)

He rolls up to one of his favorite views in Jersey of midtown Manhattan, finding an alcove and backing his car into it. Hamilton Park. They both get out and all she can do is stand there and admire the stunning view, milkshake in hand. She’s literally breathless. The last time she remembers feeling like this is when she saw the Pantheon for the first time nearing midnight with her brother when they were in Rome in 2022. She doesn’t notice him unlocking the trunk and setting up the backseat with blankets and pillows until he softly calls her name. 

(When her eyes met his, the glow of Manhattan in her eyes, he swears to this day that his heart skipped a beat. He was hers already then)

They settle into the makeshift couch, not quite touching but really freaking close. 

“It’s beautiful,” she says softly, just looking at the view. 

He hums, his eyes flickering between the view he knows too well and the girl who makes him feel better about who he is simply for just being around. It sure is. 

She lets herself admire the view silently for a minute or so more, before she can’t take it anymore. “Jack?” She asks, still looking out. 

“Yeah?”

“What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” 

Wrong answer, if the unimpressed expression on her face is any indication. She nudges her knee with his. “Come on. You know exactly what I mean. What are we doing? What are we?” 

He shrugs, trying to ignore the frogs in his stomach. He should’ve known she was gonna bring it up first. She’s too smart not to. “I-I like you. Wouldn’t have chased after you if I didn’t. You-you’re amazing, you know that? I don’t think you realize how much you can just stay on someone’s mind. I know this is only our third date, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life and I like who I am when I’m around you.” 

She swallows, pausing to sip her milkshake and wiggling into the blankets. He thinks she’s adorable. “I haven’t liked someone in so long. I thought I forgot what it felt like. But then you asked me out and I see a text from you or hear you through my phone or see you on TV, and I’m like oh. I think I remember what it feels like now. It feels like this.” 

He has to take a second because oh, maybe her dreams of becoming an author aren’t just words. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” She swallows again. “But I, I can’t do casual. I never have. I really, really wish I could

sometimes. So if that’s what you want, I can’t do it.” 

“What makes you think I want casual?” 

She snorts, “Because you’re a hot and talented hockey player? You can’t blame me for making the assumption.” 

“You think I’m hot?” 

Maia smacks him in the stomach. Jack laughs. She takes a breath. It’s now or never. “I just, I know you have girls in your DMs and your comments and everywhere else that are prettier and maybe could give you more of what you’re looking for or something that’s not…me.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She lets out a small noise and smiles slightly. “Thanks. But, I-I know that you have so many options. I won’t be hurt if I’m not the one you choose.”

He taps her knee so she’s paying attention and listening to his next words. “I-I’ve done casual before. I don’t think I can do that with you.” 

“You can’t? Why not?” 

“Well, A, because you don’t want to, which leads to B, I don’t want to. Not with you.” It’s his turn to swallow now as he looks at the skyline. “I really, really like you, Maia.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“All in?” 

“All in.”

“You completely sure?” She interlaces her hand in with his and raises his knuckles up to her lips. He’s utterly floored. But he’s nervous. And she can sense it. 

“Yes. I just…it’s, I’m not trying to backtrack. I mean, you’ve already seen some of it. Like, during the season, it’s intense. Game every two or three days, practice pretty much everyday, stretches of roadies and being away. I feel like, not that I doubt you or us or anything, but that’s not, I won’t be around as much as I should be. How is that fair to you?”

“Yeah, I mean, yeah. I figured that from the first day. I get it. Well, as much as I can get it. I’m sure it’s gonna be tough. I know it will be.” She squeezes his hand, leaning on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to try, then so am I.”

“You’re too good for me.”

She scoffs, grinning as he places a kiss on her temple. She places her milkshake by her side, summoning up some courage. She adjusts herself so that she’s fully facing him, and he just watches her intensely. With her white BU crewneck, a blanket around her shoulders, hair falling just past her shoulders, and the soft smile on her face, his mind goes quiet. Peaceful.  

She kisses him first. Innocently and softly, before pulling back to gauge his reaction.

He responds quickly, cupping her cheek and pressing his lips against hers again. They’re both smiling into the kiss and everything feels calm. He wraps a hand around her waist as she maneuvers her hands around his neck, playing with his hair. She’s so lost in him that she doesn’t really realize that she moves herself so that she hovers over his lap, knees on either side of his hips. He has his hands placed on her lower back.

He lets out a low groan, “Baby.”

Her brain short circuits, both at the nickname (she’s always flinched at it before, but she loves the way he says it) and the timbre of his voice, but she has enough sense to pull away. They’re both breathing heavily. “Sorry,” she breathes out, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. She closes her eyes. She needs a second. 

“Don’t be,” he says, bringing her face back up to his and brushing his thumbs on her cheek. “God, you’re so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do that since the minute I saw you.”

She chuckles, sliding off of him and settling into his side, staring out at the skyline again. “You’ve had plenty of chances.”

“I kinda knew if I kissed you before knowing what we were, it would be more heartbreaking if you rejected me.”

“If I rejected you?” 

“Yes.”

“In what world would I have rejected you?”

“I don’t know. But I’m glad it’s not this world.”

She keeps herself from rolling her eyes, and just leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Because, you know, she can do that now. 

(That night, staring out at the stunning skyline of a city she has grown to love, with the warmth of the blankets over her legs and over her shoulder, a boy she was very quickly growing to care for deeply pressed by her side, telling her he feels the same way, she felt lifted. Free.

Unstoppable)

(When he drops her home, it’s 1:18 a.m. and she doesn’t want to get out of the car. With the way his hand has been attached to her thigh, it seems like he doesn’t want her to get out either. But he has an 11 am practice tomorrow and he just had a game. He’s exhausted. 

He kisses her once, twice, a third time before letting her go. As soon as she steps through the lobby of her apartment building and out of view, his grin practically splits his face. He smiles all the way home)

[babygirlifiedshrimp]

eugenics camp. idk how else to describe "curing" people of their lifelong disabilities and differences in pursuit of "perfection" is literally anything less than eugenics, but who knows!! what do i know!!! im only disabled!!!

also, jayce!!! !!! revived!!!!!! viktor!!!!!!!!!! against his will!!!!! that is a true fact. viktor demanded he destroy the hexcore and jayce ignored him and refused to let him die. thats unhinged behavior. that's Not Normal. it was a violation of the laws of nature, viktor's consent, and his wishes. jayce is layered, yes!!! but he did quite literally let viktor continue his EUGENICS CAMP despite knowing exactly what it lead to in- what is implied to be- several timelines. after, again, reviving him against his will.

"he's not an unhinged immoral butcher" no!!! not in arcane he's not!!! did i say that?? can anyone read??? i said that it'd be interesting to make him hannibal or jd in au's. why????? because jayce! was not the 'good guy' in the end. all of this could have been avoided had jayce listened to heimerdinger and later, viktor, as they both emphasize the danger of the hexcore. he does not. he instead revived viktor against his will, was forced to kill him, and in the end, chose to die with him a final time. that's... insane, yeah. and beyond morally questionable.

but please, i know that any immorality in a character has less literate fans terrified to acknowledge they like a character, because good lord, what if we let people like bad guys??? then what?????

any implication that jayce is anything less than a beacon of morality and good- despite the fact he built weapons to kill zaunites, revived viktor, killed him, died with him, expelled his mentor from the council for him- is treason in this fandom, and acknowledging arcanes plotlines for what they are is just unheard of. but if you're really looking at arcane and thinking that jayce is just some goofy wifeguy with the weight of the world on his shoulders, you know- sure, man, don't let me get in the way of that. these are literal pixels on a screen.

frankly its hot when jayce talis is worse than viktor. that man is insane. make HIM jd. MAKE HIM HANNIBAL. like yeah he's polite and smiles real pretty sure but like... jayce expelled his former professor from the council that he helped establish at the mere idea that viktor's chance at life might be threatened.

HE PUT THE HEXCORE INTO VIKTOR. REVIVED HIM AGAINST HIS WILL WITH THE SCIENCE PROJECT HE PROMISED TO DESTROY. WILLINGLY ALLOWED HIM TO CONTINUE HIS EUGENICS CAMP IN SEVERAL TIMELINES. HELLO???? HE'S INSANE!!!!

that man has no morals no ethics no nothing when it comes to viktor. its him and his evil scary bug princess against literally anything that may stand in the way of that. viktor couldn't escape jayce if he tried. i'm begging on my hands and knees PLEASEEE

[cozmowrites]

jealousy jealousy

The day had been productive so far, and you felt a spark of motivation after your conversation with Midoriya. He was surprisingly insightful when it came to strategy and technique, and you had spent the last ten minutes discussing how to improve your combat reflexes.

"Thanks, Midoriya," you said with a smile. "I think your idea about pairing agility drills with situational exercises could really help me."

"I'm glad I could help," Midoriya replied, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "You're already doing great, though. I'm sure you'll master it in no time."

As you laughed lightly, completely oblivious to anything else around you, Bakugou was watching. The sharp, angry clench of his jaw, the twitch in his hand, and the dark scowl on his face weren't lost on Kirishima, who stood nearby.

"Uh, Bakugou?" Kirishima started cautiously. "You good, man?"

"I'm fine," Bakugou snapped, though his eyes remained locked on you and Midoriya.

Kirishima followed his line of sight and let out a knowing chuckle. "Ohhh, I see what's going on. You're jealous."

"I'm not jealous!" Bakugou barked, glaring at his friend.

But he was. The way you leaned in, the way Midoriya nervously scratched his neck when you smiled at him—it made Bakugou's blood boil. Before Kirishima could say another word, Bakugou stormed toward you.

"Oi, nerds," he growled, cutting off whatever Midoriya was about to say. "What the hell are you two so chummy about?"

You turned, startled by Bakugou's sudden appearance. "Bakugou, we're just talking about training. What's your problem?"

"My problem?" he repeated, voice rising. "My problem is that you're wasting your time with this damn Deku instead of someone who actually knows what they're doing."

"Kacchan!" Midoriya exclaimed, his usual nervousness flaring as he took a step back.

"Hey," you said, your tone sharp. "Midoriya does know what he's doing. He's been really helpful."

Bakugou's scowl deepened. "Helpful? You've gotta be kidding me. If you wanna get stronger, train with me. Not with this useless extra."

Your heart skipped a beat at his intensity, but you quickly brushed it aside. "Don't call Midoriya useless! And I can train with whoever I want, thank you very much."

His glare snapped to you, and for a moment, something unspoken passed between you. His jaw tightened, and his hands balled into fists at his sides. "Whatever," he muttered, turning away. "Do what you want."

You watched him stomp off, confused and frustrated. Why did he always have to act like this?

"Um," Midoriya started, breaking your thoughts. "Maybe... maybe you should talk to him? He's not great at expressing himself, but I think he—"

"Midoriya," you interrupted gently, shaking your head. "I don't know what his problem is, but I'm not chasing after him when he's acting like a jerk."

Midoriya gave you a small, knowing smile. "I think you're misunderstanding him. But... it's up to you."

With a sigh, you decided to leave it for now. But as the hours passed and the memory of Bakugou's fiery glare lingered in your mind, you found yourself unable to let it go. Maybe Midoriya was right.

+++

Later that evening, you found Bakugou sitting alone by the training grounds, staring at the sunset with a scowl.

"Bakugou," you called softly.

He stiffened but didn't look at you. "What do you want?"

"To talk," you said, stepping closer. "About earlier."

"Tch. There's nothing to talk about," he muttered.

You crossed your arms, unwilling to back down. "Why do you care so much about who I train with?"

He finally looked at you, his crimson eyes burning with something you couldn't quite place. "Because it pisses me off seeing you waste time on someone who doesn't push you hard enough."

"Midoriya does push me," you argued. "You just don't like him."

"Yeah, I don't," he admitted bluntly. "But that's not the point."

"Then what is the point, Bakugou?" you demanded, exasperated.

He hesitated, his jaw working as he struggled to find the words. "The point is... you deserve better," he finally said, his voice quieter but no less intense. "You deserve someone who'll push you to your limits. Someone who..."

You blinked, your breath catching. "Someone who what?"

He looked away, his ears tinged with red. "Forget it. It doesn't matter."

You stared at him, your heart racing as pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. Was he... jealous? Did he care about you more than you realized?

But no, that couldn't be it. You shook your head, trying to banish the thought. "Bakugou, if you want me to train with you, just say so."

"I already said so," he snapped, the frustration clear in his voice.

"Then stop acting like such a jerk about it," you shot back, stepping closer. "If you care, just... tell me."

His eyes met yours again, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. "You're so damn annoying," he muttered, but there was no heat in his words.

"Yeah, well, you're impossible," you replied, your voice softening.

The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken feelings neither of you were ready to name. Finally, Bakugou sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Fine. Training tomorrow. You and me," he said gruffly.

You couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. "Fine. But don't hold back."

"I never do," he replied, his smirk returning. Back to normal.

[leaderwon]

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 : 𝐒𝐉𝐘 | 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐝𝐚𝐲 — 𝟑)

synopsis : A spontaneous midnight hangout at Jake’s favorite lookout spot turns into an unexpected heart-to-heart, where unspoken feelings finally come to light.

warnings : teasing, skinship, light kissing

wc : 1.3k+

MASTERLIST

It was Jake’s idea to meet at the hilltop.

“It’s got the best view,” he’d said earlier in the day, excitement dancing in his eyes. “You’ll love it, trust me.” You’d rolled your eyes at his insistence, but here you were now, bundled up against the chilly night air as you followed him up a narrow trail. He carried a small backpack over one shoulder, the faint sound of clinking glass bottles coming from inside.

“You never told me why this place is so special,” you said, your breath visible in the cold. Jake turned to look at you, walking backward with an easy grin. “It’s not just the view,” he explained. “It’s the quiet. No distractions, no noise. Just us.”

His words lingered in the air, and you felt your cheeks heat up despite the cold.

When you reached the top, you were met with a breathtaking view of the city below. The twinkling lights stretched as far as the eye could see, the skyline glowing softly against the dark sky. Jake set his bag down and pulled out a blanket, spreading it on the grass before gesturing for you to sit.

“See? Worth the hike, right?” he asked, dropping down beside you.

“Okay, I’ll admit it’s pretty amazing,” you replied, leaning back on your hands as you took in the view. Jake grinned, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Told you.”

From his bag, he pulled out two bottles of soda and handed you one. The gesture was so Jake so simple, thoughtful, and effortlessly charming.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, sipping your drinks and letting the quiet of the night settle around you. It was easy to lose yourself in moments like this with him, where words didn’t feel necessary, and the company was enough.

Jake broke the silence first. “You know, I don’t bring just anyone up here.” You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Should I feel special?” He chuckled, leaning back on his elbows. “Maybe you should.” There was a teasing edge to his voice, but when you looked at him, his expression was softer, more sincere. His eyes, always so warm and inviting, seemed to hold something unspoken.

“Jake,” you began, shifting to face him fully, “why do I get the feeling you have something on your mind?” He hesitated, his gaze flickering back to the city lights below. For a moment, you thought he might brush it off with one of his usual jokes, but instead, he let out a quiet sigh.

“You’re not wrong,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “There’s been something I’ve been wanting to say, but I didn’t know how.” Your heart started to race, the weight of his words settling between you. “You can tell me anything, you know that,” you said gently. Jake smiled, a small, almost nervous curve of his lips. “I know. It’s just hard to find the right words.”

He sat up straighter, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. “You mean a lot to me. More than I think you realize. And I’ve been scared to say it because... what if you don’t feel the same?”

Your breath caught, his confession hanging in the air. Jake wasn’t usually one to doubt himself. He was confident, playful, and sure of his place in the world. Seeing him like this, vulnerable and unsure, only made your heart ache for him.

“Jake,” you said softly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to be scared.” He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours for any hint of rejection. But all he found was warmth, understanding, and something else, something that mirrored the feelings he’d just laid bare.

“I’ve felt the same for a while now,” you admitted, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. His expression shifted instantly, a mixture of relief and joy lighting up his face. “You have?” You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I thought you’d figured it out by now. You’re not exactly subtle, Jake.”

He laughed at that, the sound bright and genuine. “Guess I’m not as smooth as I thought, huh?” “Not even close,” you teased, leaning into him slightly.

Jake’s laughter softened, and he reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was light, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “I’m really glad I brought you here tonight,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Me too,” you replied, your gaze dropping to his lips for the briefest of moments.

Jake noticed, of course he did, and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a small smile. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his tone filled with a mix of confidence and hesitation. Your heart skipped a beat at his question, but you didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” you said softly.

The kiss was gentle at first, his lips brushing against yours as if testing the waters. But when you leaned into him, your hand resting lightly on his chest, he deepened the kiss, his hand coming up to cradle your face.

The world around you seemed to fade away, the city lights below becoming nothing more than a distant glow. All that mattered in that moment was him, his warmth, his touch, and the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

When you finally pulled away, Jake rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed as he let out a quiet laugh. “That was even better than I imagined,” he admitted, his voice filled with awe. You smiled, your fingers lightly tracing the fabric of his jacket. “You’ve imagined this?” “More times than I can count,” he confessed, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, the night air cool around you but the warmth between you keeping the chill at bay. As the stars began to peek out from behind the clouds, you realized that this moment, this night, was one you’d never forget.

And from the way Jake held your hand on the walk back, neither would he.

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