#I could go on forever. I just need to watch season three so i stop fronting

[mobgeo]

I feel so clueless on how jokes work. I know what makes people laugh, and I can repeat what makes them laugh so I can be funny, but I still don't understand the joke itself. I know how to make people laugh but I don't understand WHY it elicits laughter

[sweetbans29]

Down Low - KM

Pairing: Kate Martin x Reader

Summary: After figuring out what you have is real, you and Kate navigate keeping your relationship on the down low (based on THIS request)

Warnings: very mildly suggestive, fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Here is another cute KM fic!

"So how are we going to do this?" You ask the girl sitting on your bed. She is wrapped in one of your sweatshirts and holding Stuffy, the teddy bear you refuse to sleep without.

She shrugs. Neither of you really know what to say.

"We take it one day at a time and if it gets weird or hurts the team we stop," Kate says, looking down at the arms of the teddy bear she is playing with.

You nod. Neither of you really want to stop what you are doing.

You and Kate are heading into your fourth year at Iowa while Kate is entering her fifth. The two of you have been doing this little dance around your feelings for the past three years. That is until the two of you both decided to stay around during the summer. Summer was really only about 6 weeks but it was enough for you and her to start exploring the unspoken feelings each of you has been harboring. And boy were the two of you glad you did.

The two of you spent the past six weeks exploring the city and each other. It could not have been better. But now that summer is over and the team is getting back to start pre-season workouts the two of you are faced with reality.

"Mmmhmmm, one day at a time," you repeat what she says but can't hide the disappointment in your tone.

Kate stands up and comes to wrap herself around you. You turn to face her and nuzzle your way into her neck, breathing her in.

"When I say one day at a time, I don't mean my feelings for you. Baby, those are sure but one day at a time with the team, okay?" She explains, trying to reassure you.

You nod into her and know that is what she meant, but you can't help but want this little world the two of you have created to continue forever. Forever in your little bubble was unrealistic.

You let your hands that are wrapped around the taller girl sneak underneath the sweatshirt and allow your fingertips to dance across the skin of her back.

"Why can't we stay like this forever?" You ask, knowing reality is knocking at the door.

"I wish we could, I really wish we could," she says.

The team gets back and you and Kate go back to being 'just friends'. At least, friends in the eyes of the world. But the two of you are still very much figuring out what the two of you look like with everyone else around. As time passed and the two of you established this wasn't just a summer fling, you got so used to keeping your relationship between the two of you that neither of you felt the need to change anything up.

A few months pass and you couldn't be happier. The season is in full swing as games are beginning.

It is a full-team practice day before a big game coming up.

You are intently watching your team run a defensive rotation when Kate comes flying through, getting the block on one of the practice guys.

The team goes crazy as the team on the floor goes to chest bump and gives Kate her flowers.

"FREAKING MOTHER," Jada yells as the team celebrates Kate. The cheers are loud.

"Ha, more like daddy," you mutter out loud before you can catch yourself. You look around to see if anyone caught you little slip and it doesn't look like they had.

To be fair, you and Kate have been pretty active in the bedroom which may or may not be consuming your mind more often than not. It had been a newfound nickname for your girl that was up until this moment only used in the confines of your home.

When you think you are in the clear, you pat Kate's back and head to set up in your zone when you hear it.

"Oh shit," Caitlin says. "OH SHIT!"

Caitlin turns to you and puts her hands on your shoulders.

"Did you just say what I think you said?" Caitlin asks, squeezing your shoulders.

"I don't know what you are talking about," you say trying to cover up your slip.

Caitlin stares you down.

"I know you better than you know yourself, you would not go around calling just anyone that nickname," Caitlin says trying to pull your eye contact which you are actively avoiding.

"Fine, don't say anything but something is going on," Cait says letting you go. You finally let out the breath you have been holding and look over at your girl.

Your eyes meet Kate's and she immediately knows something's off. You wave her off but to your misfortune, Caitlin is out there calling Kate daddy on the next play.

Both Kate and your face are bright red when you hear the name escape Caitlin's lips and it causes the whole team to come to a halt.

"What did you just call Kate?" Jada asks.

"Daddy," Caitlin says. The whole team looks at her like she is crazy. "I am just repeating what I heard."

Caitlin then had the audacity to point at you, the bright red tomato that you are, as ever single eye in the gym gravitates towards you.

You hide your face and groan when you feel arms come around you. Kate covers you from the eyes of the team and practice squad.

"So if Kate is daddy...does that make you mother?" Jada asks pinching at your sides.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me, how long have we known each other? How long have I been saying you two would be a cute ass couple? Do I even know you at all?" Caitlin says barreling into you.

"8 months," Kate says pushing your intruder away from you.

"EIGHT MONTHS," Caitlin yells. "And you really think you know someone. I will be taking applications for a new best friend since BOTH of mine have betrayed me."

"CC, it has nothing to do with you," you say a smile finally making its way on you as you push the girl. "We liked the simplicity and your loud mouth couldn't keep a secret to save your life."

"Hey!" Caitlin combats but all of you know it's true.

You are all laughing and there is a shared sense of relief in both you and Kate. You didn't know how the team would react but it is better than either of you would have expected. Not as a lack of their understanding but more so to your fear.

"As long as I get to be in the wedding, I'm good," Caitlin says.

"Yeah - as my best woman," Kate says at the same exact time as you say, "Of course - as my maid of honor."

Your head whips to look at Kate who is already staring you down.

"She can't be your maid of honor if she is my best woman," Kate says like it's a known thing, Caitlin being on her side instead of yours.

"In your dreams Martin, she has been my best friend since high school - there is no question she is standing by my side," you say.

"She could always officiate..." Jada decides to pitch in her two cents.

Kate and your heads turn to her and simultaneously say, "No."

The whole team laughs as you and Kate continue to bicker. The coaches call for practice to continue.

Any time you were standing next to Kate, the two of you could be seen in the same little argument about who gets Caitlin. It even follows you back to your apartment when Caitlin is sick of hearing it.

"Okay that's enough," Caitlin says, rubbing her head. "I will be neither of your best woman or maid of honor."

You and Kate come to your senses and turn to the girl who just made the statement, now arguing with her as to how crazy it would be to not have her in the wedding party.

It didn't stop the arguing, but it did turn the tables so you and Kate were on the same side.

If you were honest, you would give Kate anything she wanted on your big day and she would do the same. At the end of the day, you both knew what was coming and had no problems with it. It was all a part of the plan. The plan the two of you drew up that first week of summer. The plan to spend the rest of your lives arguing about stupid things with each other because neither of you could imagine arguing with anyone else.

The plan of Kate and you against the world.

AN: A short but cute one in my opinion. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 💛

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

hiiii!! absolutely love your crosshair stuff (i’ve been on a crosshair binge since season three started lol) anyways i was hoping you could write something that’s like post-omega and crosshair escaping tantiss and reuniting with hunter and wrecker (end ep 4) with the prompts

11. I promised to love you forever, and that is a promise I intend to keep.

and

16. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.

like i was thinking crosshair and the reader are married but canon happened so the reader stayed with the bad batch and this would be the first time her and crosshair are seeing each other again since the end of season one at kamino

no rush for any of this btw. thankssss

Hello, hi! Thank you so much for this request. I had something similar going through my mind after the episode aired so was excited to see this drop in!! I hope you enjoy 😊

Never Stopped

When Omega's cryptic message leads to a heartfelt reunion on Ryloth's nearest moon, you didn't expect her to be accompanied by the one man you never thought you'd get to see again.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: spoilers for S3E04, we love a good reunion, inner turmoil, fluff, comfort, pet names.

“I had help.” Omega’s statement hangs in the air until the light sound of footsteps on metal reaches your ears, and you turn alongside Wrecker to watch as someone steps out of the stolen transport.

No. Not someone.

Him.

For a second, you forget how to breathe, unable to tear your eyes away from the man you never dared hope you’d see again. The last time you’d seen him had been after the fall of Kamino, on that blasted platform in the middle of the ocean. You’d pleaded with him to come with you - to leave the Empire’s clutches - but he’d declined. Your stubborn, infuriating husband.

Maker, you’d missed him.

Before you even know what you’re doing, you’re running, crossing the inky darkness between the two ships, closing the distance between you as Crosshair takes the final step down onto the planet’s surface. He doesn’t have time to protest before your arms are around his neck, hauling him into a crushing embrace. His brothers might be wary, but you aren’t.

Crosshair freezes, caught off guard by your affection. In the short time it had taken you to reach him, he’d braced himself for a slap or to be chewed out. This was…unexpected. You’re warm against him, the softness of your body so familiar, as is the scent of your shampoo. Tentatively, he slides his arms around you in return, pulling you close to suffocate all space between you both, soaking up the feeling of having you back in his arms. “Kitten...”

The whispered term of endearment is all it takes, and a heaving sob leaves you before you can stop it.

Everything since the order was given crashes down on you – the shots he’d fired as you scrambled to escape Kamino, how relentlessly he’d chased you across the galaxy, Kamino falling, the distress message he’d sent to your old comms channel…it had felt never-ending.

But it was over now. 

As you bury your face against his chest, the torrent of emotions overwhelms you. There’s a sense of catharsis, a release from the pent-up anguish that had threatened to suffocate you. The weight of his presence feels like a balm to your wounded soul, and with each sob that racks your body, it’s as if a burden is lifted, allowing you to finally exhale the turmoil that had gripped you for far too long.

He’s here. In one piece. Free from the Empire’s clutches, with Omega in tow.

Hunter and Wrecker’s tension eases slightly as they witness the reunion between you and Crosshair, but they’re not ready to let their guard down just yet. They exchange knowing glances before Hunter clears his throat. “We need to go.” He shouts across the distance, feeling guilty for breaking the moment but knowing that the Empire won’t be far behind.

You pull back slightly, hands still clutching desperately at Crosshair as he meets your gaze. He’s never been one to cry, but unshed tears line those sharp eyes you’ve missed so much. Silently, you swipe away your tears with one hand, the other finding his to guide him towards the Marauder. A blur of motion whips past you, and you startle, but with a click of his tongue, Crosshair stills the creature responsible, and a hound falls into step beside him as you lead him back towards the ship.

It feels too good to be true, too easy. The nervousness Crosshair had felt rolling through him as he’d forced himself down the steps of the transport returns. Fingers interlaced with yours, he can feel the skin-warmed metal of your ring. It’s still there after everything.

He feels nauseous as you cross the darkness towards the ship that had once been his home. He glances at Wrecker as you both pass him and the apprehension on his big brother’s face wavers for just a second before Crosshair looks away, unable to stand it.

Hunter has already ushered Omega inside, the young girl saying hello to Gonky, who beeps happily at her return. Crosshair lets you situate him in one of the back seats in the cockpit as Wrecker comes up the ramp, smacking the button to shut it as Hunter takes Tech’s seat and fires up the engines. 

Tech.

Crosshair swallows, bile rising in his throat. His twin is gone. Omega had brokenly told him what had happened during one of her many visits to his cell. Guilt curls through him - his brother had insisted on the mission to Eriadu and had been keen to find him, which ultimately led to his sacrifice.

Crosshair barely registers the ship setting off or the jump to hyperspace.

A soft squeeze of his hand draws his focus, and his head tilts to look across at you. Your wide eyes, which he adores, look at him with concern and something else he can’t quite put his finger on. Hunter and Wrecker are in the pilot and copilot seats, Omega curled in Hunter’s lap as they catch up while Wrecker pets Batcher.

You can practically see Crosshair’s discomfort, so you lead him out into the belly of the ship, closing the cockpit doors behind you to give the pair of you some privacy. “I thought I’d lost you.” You whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you sit side by side on one of the bunks, bodies tilted towards each other.

“Have to try harder than that.” Crosshair’s answer is quick, and the vice-like grip of dread that had encircled his heart slackens as he hears you laugh - it’s a short and sharp sound, nothing like the melodic giggles he’d grown accustomed to during the war, but it’s something. And Maker, does it feel good.

You’d almost forgotten what it was like to be on the receiving end of his quips, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed. But you spot something missing as you turn his hand over in yours. 

His wedding ring is gone.

“They took it from me.” He’s quick to reassure you, seeing the pained expression on your pretty face. He hadn’t even been able to fight to keep it, having woken up on Tantiss without it. The troopers had quickly silenced him whenever he’d asked about its whereabouts.

Silence settles between you both for a moment, your gaze fixed on this hand - on the vacant spot. “We’ll get you a new one,” you state quietly, lifting your eyes to finally meet his.

Crosshair’s brows furrow in disbelief at your words. After everything he’s done and the pain and betrayal, he can’t fathom why you still want to be married to him. Guilt and shame churn in his gut, threatening to overwhelm him. “Why?” he asks, his voice low and raspy, his gaze searching yours for some semblance of an answer.

You reach out and gently cup his cheek, your touch sending shivers down his spine. “I promised to love you forever, and that’s a promise I intend to keep,” you say simply, your eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that Crosshair can’t comprehend. “Despite everything, I still believe in us - in you. No matter how much time we’ve spent apart, I never stopped loving you.”

A lump forms in Crosshair’s throat as he struggles to process your words. He’d spent so long convincing himself that he was better off paying for his sins in that cell. But here you are, offering forgiveness and understanding. He searches your eyes for any sign of deceit or resentment but finds unwavering sincerity and love.

Crosshair reaches out, hand shaking as his fingers brush your cheek. “Maybe you’ve hit your head too many times, kitten.” Crosshair quips, a hint of his trademark sarcasm slipping through. Despite the gravity of the moment, he can’t resist teasing you. But deep down, he’s grateful for your forgiveness and unwavering love, even if he doesn’t understand it.

You roll your eyes at his remark, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Maybe you just need a few more hits to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours.” You retort, your tone teasing yet filled with affection.

As the playful banter lingers in the air, a moment of quiet settles between you both, the reality of the situation sinking in. Crosshair’s gaze softens, his hand lingering on your cheek as he soaks in your closeness. “I love you too.” He whispers, his voice barely audible above the hum of the ship’s engines. “I never stopped either.”

Your heart swells with relief and happiness, and with a soft smile, you press a gentle kiss to the back of his hand, feeling the slight tremble beneath your lips. “What happened, my heart?” You ask, your voice soft and concerned, brows drawn down as you watch how he shakes.

Crosshair hesitates for a moment. “They did…things. Some I remember. Some I don’t.” He answers vaguely.

You’re familiar with this game. He doesn’t want to think about it. Doesn’t want to talk about it. And while you know he'll need to one day, today’s not that day. Respecting his unspoken plea not to delve deeper into the horrors he endured, you gently squeeze his hand, offering him a reassuring smile. “We don’t have to talk about it now.” You murmur softly. “But we need to get you out of those awful clothes.” You change the subject, wrinkling your nose. “Handsome you may be, but this is not working.” You make a vague gesture at his outfit.

Crosshair chuckles softly at your remark, the memories chased away for the time being by your attempt to lighten the mood. “I’ll have you know; I make anything look good,” he retorts with a smirk. “But I suppose some fresh clothes wouldn’t hurt.”

You nod in agreement, grateful for the ease with which the two of you fall back into rhythm. “Exactly, and I’m sure I can find something more comfortable for you.” You reply, standing up and glancing around the small quarters of the ship.

As you start to pull crates out from the nearby storage racks, Crosshair watches you with a slight smile, admiring the familiar sight of you in motion. “You always know just how to take care of me,” he remarks, his voice low and warm, a tone saved just for you.

You shoot him a playful smile over your shoulder. “Someone has to.” You quip back, pulling out the crate you’d been looking for.

His kit crate. You still had his kit crate, with all your doodles on the outside – his name in Aurebesh, the squad’s symbol, a copy of his tattoo, and ever so slightly wonky hearts that he’d made a show of grumbling about but secretly loved.

Crosshair’s surprise is evident as he watches you retrieve a clean undersuit from the crate. He’d assumed its contents would be long gone - tossed aside, sold, or scrapped. The fact that you kept all his armour, along with his bucket, fills him with a strange mix of emotions. “Didn’t think you’d keep it,” Crosshair finally manages to say.

Before you can respond, footsteps interrupt the moment, drawing your attention towards the source. Hunter steps out from the cockpit – even with the door shut, he can still hear everything. His eyes meet Crosshair’s, and while he knows there’s a lot for them to talk about and work through, and he’s still not entirely sure he fully trusts his baby brother, he wants to offer him some reassurance. It’s the least he can do. “We were never going to get rid of it,” Hunter says, his voice firm yet gentle. “You’re still one of us.”

Crosshair finds himself at a loss for words. Emotions swirl within him, a tumultuous mix of gratitude and guilt. As Hunter’s words sink in, his gaze flickers back to you. Despite the doubts and fears that linger in his mind, one thing is certain: he’s home.

With a small smile, you offer the clean undersuit to your husband. “Here,” you say softly, your voice laced with affection. “Let’s get you changed.”

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[httpsdana]

Hiiii!!! can you write a jamal story with promt 107 where they're having an argument (he's at fault 🤭) with like HEAVY angst where jamal is lowkey being a meanie and not trying to understand readers side but ends in the cutest fluff tho (cuz can't accept sad endings 😭)

Btw FREAKING INLOVEE WITH UR WRITING UR LITERALLY SAVING THE JAMAL GIRLIES I SWEAR!!! 🙏🏻🙏🏻💗💗

Also thank you in advance!!!!! 😽🩷🤍

Lost In Translation~Jamal Musiala

THANK YOU SM FOR UR SWEET MESSAGE. i hope u enjoy this one 😙🫶🏻

request from here

master list

players/drivers I write for

107-"please stop. you're scaring me."

She felt it from the start of the season. Jamal had said he was going to give his best this season and push himself to his limits. He promised to avoid any distractions and focus solely on football, fully committing himself. What she didn’t expect was for him to avoid her too. It made her feel like she was the distraction, rather than the support he needed.

y/n woke up every morning without Jamal by her side. Every day, she rushed to the kitchen, hoping to see him and wish him a good day.

All she wanted was to hear those three words she felt like she hadn’t heard in forever. But every morning, she was disappointed to find that he had already left without even a "good morning."

When she returned from work, Jamal still wouldn’t be home. She knew his training sessions were intense, but she also knew he couldn’t possibly be training from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m.

She made him dinner every night, hoping they could share a moment together when he came home exhausted from practice. Instead, he’d arrive late at night, claiming he had been at the gym after training.

He no longer wrapped his arms around her at night. He hadn’t touched or kissed her in over two months. It felt like she was invisible to him, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She had to tell him how she felt, or she would have no choice but to let him go.

y/n sat in their living room, waiting for Jamal to come home. It was 10 p.m. After what felt like 100 episodes of her show, she finally heard his keys and the door opening. She remained seated on the couch, waiting for him. He walked into the living room, seeing her sitting there, watching TV.

“Hey,” he mumbled, dropping his bag on the couch and sitting down, keeping his distance from her.

She wanted to ask him about his day. She wanted to ask how he was feeling about the start of the season, especially given his incredible performance. But she didn’t. She just wanted to know what was going on and why he was avoiding her.

“We need to talk,” she said, looking at him intently, her voice blank and direct.

Jamal sighed, running his hands over his face, exhaustion clear in his features. “y/n, I’m tired. I just want to shower and go to sleep,” he said, already standing up to leave the room.

That’s what he always did, avoiding any conversation with her.

“No, Jamal. You’re not running away this time. We need to have a serious conversation, and you need to listen to me for once,” she said, standing up too, her voice tense with all the frustration she had been holding inside for so long.

He turned around, surprised by her outburst but clearly annoyed that he was going to have to talk. “What is it now?” he said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice weak and hurt.

“What do you mean, what’s wrong? You’re the one who said we need to talk, and now you’re asking me what’s wrong?” he snapped, his voice getting louder with each word.

“What’s wrong with us? What happened? Did I do something to upset you? Why are you avoiding me and acting like I don’t even exist in this house?” she said, her voice trembling as she fought back tears.

“Oh my god. You’re always so needy, constantly craving attention. I can’t have you clinging onto me all day, y/n. I come home every night exhausted, and all I want is to sleep. But you’re there, nagging me because you can’t survive without attention. What am I supposed to do?” he shouted bitterly, stepping closer to her.

“I’m not asking for anything crazy! Just acknowledge me. Say good morning, make me coffee before you leave, tell me you love me at least!” she yelled back, her hands dropping to her sides in defeat.

Jamal was fuming, his face red with anger. She had never seen him like this before, and it scared her. He paced around the room, his steps heavy, before kicking a vase, shattering it to pieces. y/n flinched at the sound, stepping back slightly as Jamal moved closer.

“Please stop. You’re scaring me” she whispered as he stood in front of her, his face inches from hers. It was the closest he had been to her in weeks. She could feel the heat radiating from him, but his cold expression sent chills down her spine.

Jamal didn’t seem to hear her or care. Instead, he continued hurling hurtful words.

“I come home to rest. I don’t need anyone ruining my mood before I leave for training. I don’t need anyone distracting me from having my best season. So stop with the attention-seeking and deal with it. It’s not like I’m treating you as if you’re dead,” he spat, his words cutting deep into Y/N’s heart like knives.

She fought back the tears that threatened to fall, refusing to let him see her break.

“But you are, Jamal! You don’t look at me anymore. You don’t remember anything. You’ve forgotten our date nights, and we haven’t had a Sunday date in weeks. Sunday is your rest day, but instead of spending it with me, you choose to hang out with your friends, friends you see every day at training. Why can’t you acknowledge your girlfriend, who’s doing her best to stay calm and deal with the consequences of dating a footballer?” she cried, finally letting out all the words she had been holding inside for months.

“For fuck’s sake. You just don’t get it, do you? I’m going to shower and then go to sleep. I better not hear about this childish problem you’ve made up in your head again,” he said coldly, leaving the room and heading to their bedroom.

y/n collapsed on the couch, the tears she had been holding back finally breaking free. She pulled her knees to her chest and sobbed into them, her heart aching.

She didn’t understand how Jamal had changed so much, why he had become like this. They had been dating for years, and every year he wanted to have a great season, but this was the first time he had acted this way. She felt their relationship slipping through her fingers, and she didn’t have the strength to fight anymore.

After crying for a while, exhaustion overtook her, and she wanted to sleep. But she couldn’t bring herself to sleep next to Jamal after the hurtful things he had said. She began walking to the guest room when she heard his voice behind her.

“Where are you going?” he asked, making her turn to look at him. He stood there shirtless, fresh from the shower, his hair still wet and dressed in the shorts he always wore to bed.

“To sleep in the guest room,” she replied, turning away.

“Fine, be like that,” he scoffed, and she heard the bedroom door slam behind her.

She sighed and entered the cold, empty guest room, with only a bed in the middle. Lying down, she felt as though she were on a rock.

She closed her eyes, hoping for some rest, but after tossing and turning for hours, she gave up. She sat up, running a hand over her face, wondering if Jamal was struggling to sleep too.

A part of her hoped he was awake, thinking about her, just as she was about him. But she knew he was probably fast asleep, after using "needing sleep" as an excuse to avoid their argument.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. She looked up and saw Jamal peeking his head in to see if she was asleep. When he saw her sitting up, he entered the room slowly, standing awkwardly by the door.

“Can I... sleep next to you?” he asked nervously, avoiding her gaze and looking at the floor. When she didn’t reply, he looked up, seeing the hesitation in her eyes.

“I won’t touch you or anything. I’ll stay as far as I can,” he pleaded, his eyes begging for some rest.

y/n thought about it. She couldn’t sleep without him next to her either. “Please,” he said softly, and she finally gave in, nodding her head and moving to the far side of the bed, turning her back to him.

She felt the bed dip as Jamal lay down next to her. Even with the distance, she could feel the warmth of his body close to hers. y/n closed her eyes, hoping to finally get some sleep. As she drifted off, she felt his arm drape over her body, a small smile forming on her lips as she welcomed his warmth. She knew they would need to talk about their fight in the morning, but for now, they could rest.

Next morning, y/n had woken up by the sun that was shining in the guest room. She turned around, hoping Jamal was still next to her, but as usual, he had already left the room.

She let out a sigh, knowing he probably left to training too. She hoped he would stay and explain his hurtful words, but it seemed as if nothing happen to him last night. y/n entered the bathroom, washing her face and brushing her teeth, before going to the kitchen.

She was surprised when she saw Jamal there, his shirtless back to her as he was making breakfast. When he noticed her, he smiled at her, making her more confused. "good morning darling. I made you coffee" he pointed to the cup of coffee that was next to the coffee machine.

Jamal moves quietly around the kitchen, the sound of eggs sizzling and toast popping up from the toaster filling the silence. y/n sat on the counter, the cup of coffee next to her, arms folded, watching him, her heart heavy with the weight of the argument that’s still fresh in her mind.

He seems to be gathering his thoughts, carefully plating the breakfast before he turns to her, his expression soft but full of regret.

“I’m really sorry,” he starts, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“I’ve been thinking about everything, and I know I shouldn’t be trying to explain why I acted the way I did, because none of it excuses what I said or how I treated you. It was wrong, and I wasn’t supposed to do any of that.” He takes a deep breath, looking down at the floor before meeting your eyes again.

“But with the new coach and the new season, there’s been so much pressure. The coach has been really strict about us not getting distracted, and I... I let that get into my head.” he said, his voice weak and unstable.

y/n doesn’t respond right away, waiting for him to continue, her gaze steady as she takes in his words.

"I thought that maybe you were a distraction," he says, shaking his head at himself.

"But that was so wrong of me. All you’ve ever done is support me. You’ve been there through everything, my ups and downs, every game, every challenge, and instead of seeing that, I pushed you away. I don’t even know why I said the things I did... I just... I took my stress out on you, and I’m so sorry for that. I know it hurt you, and I regret it more than I can say.” he stuttered, seeming nervous

Her chest tightens, emotions swirling inside her as she thinks back to how hurt she felt. But she remains silent, waiting for him to finish.

“I shouldn’t have acted like football was more important than you," he continues, stepping closer.

"Because it’s not. You’re so important to me. Honestly, most of my success, it’s because of you. You keep me grounded, and your support means everything. It’s not just my talent that’s gotten me where I am, it’s you. And I was stupid for not seeing that." he said confidently, stepping closer to her

He looks at her, his eyes full of sincerity, waiting for some kind of response. She hesitates, his words slowly sinking in.

"You really hurt me, Jamal," she says softly. "It wasn’t just about football. It was about how you made me feel like I wasn’t enough, like I was in the way." she said, her voice filled with pain.

He nods, a look of guilt flashing across his face.

"I know, and I’m going to spend every day trying to make up for it. I want to fix this. I don’t want you to ever feel that way again." he said honestly

There’s a pause before he speaks again, his voice even softer.

"I took the day off today. I thought maybe we could go for a walk, spend some time together, and get some ice cream, if you want? I just... I want to make it up to you." he hesitated, waiting for her to speak

She tries to hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

"You got me with the ice cream. I can’t say no to free ice cream." she jokes

He chuckles, though there’s still a seriousness in his gaze.

"I really am sorry. I swear to you, nothing like that will ever happen again. Football’s important, but so are you. More than that, you’re more important." he said, grabbing her hands in his

"i believe you Jamal. I hope you don't break your promise this time" she said, giving him a small smile.

He smiled back, squeezing her hands in his.

"you won't regret it i promise" he said

After breakfast, they walk side by side, hand in hand, talking and catching up on everything that’s happened since the argument.

Slowly, the tension between them begins to ease. As they sit on a park bench, ice creams in hand, y/n leans her head on his shoulder, the warmth of the moment filling the space between them.

"I missed this," she says softly, closing her eyes as she let the comfort of his presence wash over her.

"I missed it too," he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss on her head before resting his against hers.

Everything was fine now.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine helping Benn get away to see a 'friend'

Benn: *trying to slip off the ship during dinner for the third night in a row*

Shanks: *notices he's gone almost immediately* Where's Beck?

Lucky Roux: *counting the money Benn bribed him with to keep quiet* I dunno

Shanks: *Runs out on deck to find Benn trying to sneak over the side of the bot* Where we going?

Benn: we aren't going anywhere, I'm going to port by myself.

Shanks: You're leaving the crew! *Starts to tear up*

The crew: *piles out when they hear Shanks' caterwauling* You're leaving! Without even saying goodbye!

Benn: I'm just leaving for the night, not forever...*realizes no one is listening to him* oh my gods, FINE! Fine, I'm not going anywhere.

Crew: *cheers as they herd Benn back into the mess hall*

An hour later

Benn: *finally manages to claw his way out of the impromptu game night to take a breather out on deck*

You: *watches him lean on the railing, trying to light night cigarette* Need a light?

Benn: *jumps in surprise and drops his lighter into the bay* You scared the shit outta me!

You: *hands him your lighter and leans against the railing*, so why were you trying to sneak off?

Benn: what's it to you?

You: maybe I could help if you have a good reason.

Benn: I wanted to go see a friend I always hook up with when we make port here. She knows I'm a pirate, but not what crew I'm apart of.

You: and you don't want us to meet her? Are you shamed of us?

Benn: *no hesitation* very...Nah, nah, it's just she's a sweet gal and rather timid.

You: and you think she'll be scared off when she finds out you're the emotional support idiot to one of the four emperors?

Benn: yes...Wait, I'm no one's emotional support idiot.

You: In order to stop Shanks from pouting you had to let him curl up in your lap.

Benn: so?

You: You looked like you were burping him, like a baby, when he's a whole ass grown man.

Benn: *purses his lips because he knows you're right, so he elects not to respond*

You: Anyway, you want help sneaking out?

Benn: No offense rookie, but I don't think you can help me. They're a group of seasoned pirates, and you.... You've only been in this life for what? Three years?

You: You're forgetting that they're also just a bunch of dudes who are children at heart.

Benn: what are you getting at?

You: What I'm saying is sneaking out will cost you.

Benn: how much?

You: Take me shopping tomorrow and we'll find out.

The next night

Benn: There's no way this is gonna work.

You: Boys! Benn bought you some stuff! *Presents them with a 10,000 + piece Lego set of the Red Force (I'm making Legos cannon for a plot device), a dial set of Uta's newest album, and twenty barrels of booze*

The Crew: *move like a wave, taking up the gifts*

Shanks: What brought this on?

Benn: Just thought we could use a new activity for tonight, you've all been working so hard lately and all.

Thirty minutes later

The crew: *absorbed in sorting Lego pieces and reading the instruction manual*

Benn: *also absorbed*

You: *elbows him* aren't you trying to get laid?

Benn: but Legos.

You: You really gonna pick Legos over pussy?

Benn: but what if they finish it without me?

You: I'll make it have an accident, so they have to start all over. Now get out of here.

Benn: I can't believe that your plan worked.

You: yeah yeah, get outta here before they notice you're gone

Benn: You're the best *kisses your forehead and flings himself off the side of the ship*

Support me on Kofi and Patreon

List of Up-and-coming works

[happeehippie]

instagram j.b.

summary: follow along with joe and his girlfriend evie as they go through his football career.

*face claim is Yasmin Quintana*

part one. part two. part three.

breezyevie

liked by joeyb_9, lahjay10_, bengals and 34,034 others

breezyevie: shout out to the sweet lady who sent us these cookies to start the new season! we are so excited to have j with us this year! #uno

view all 1,238 comments…

user: let’s go UNO

joeyb_9: put some respect on him

> breezyevie: they’re about to find out.

user: chosen 1

user: uno finna go crazy!

> breezyevie: i see no lies.

lahjay10_: let’s work

> breezyevie: work work work work work work

user: why is no one talking about the cookies?

> breezyevie: they were so good.

user: get ready to be destroyed this season.

joeyb_9

liked by breezyevie, bengals, and 117,505 others

joey_9: “If you die without any scars then you never did anything worth fighting for.”

view all 2,009 comments…

user: marry me

> breezyevie: @joeyb_9 me first. 🥺

user: tiger king

breezyevie: it’s joe time baby!

user: ain’t that the truth

user: this your year joey b!

lahjay10_: no pain no gain

> breezyevie: wise words yoda

breezyevie

liked by joeyb_9, taylorswift, bengals and 43,298 others

breezyevie: in honor of the new season starting this sundey! it’s who dey forever.

view all 1,727 comments…

user: this our queen!

user: drop the link

> breezyevie: on my story!

user: long hair joe need to make a comeback pending your approval

> breezyevie: i approve!

user: ev over everyone!

user: time for joe to get injured

> breezyevie: time for you to be a decent human being.

joeyb_9: you’re the best

> breezyevie: my heart. 🤍

breezyevie

liked by joeyb_9, bengals, taylorswift and 289,528 others

breezyevie: Let’s do this shit. #whodey

view all 2,783 comments…

user: i feel like your personality is too dominant for clean boy joe

> breezyevie: i feel like you don’t know us

user: i am so excited for game day content! i love you!

> breezyevie: it’s coming!!

user: sis donate the jacket!

> breezyevie: but.. i love it.

user: sorry sis he’s cheating on you

> breezyevie: in your dreams?

> millyg: can’t you be more original? it’s always the cheating trope.

user: that’s her MAN!

> breezyevie: FOR LIFE

user: delete this, lmao.

> breezyevie: awe, this bothers you huh?

user: can you fight?

> breezyevie: i’m prepared. 💪🏼

user: i’m confused.. are you his gf? your page looks like a fan page.

> breezyevie: people can’t fan girl their own boyfriends? yikes, this is embarrassing for me.

joeyb_9

liked by breezyevie, bengals, lahjay10_ and 413,108 others

joeyb_9: Andddddddddd I’m back

view all 3,909 comments

lahjay10_: back like you never left

> breezyevie: cant wait to watch y’all run it back

user: in joe we trust

> breezyevie: always and forever.

user: you’re girlfriend is so average, you could do better.

> breezyevie: ouch. my fragile ego. 💔

user: ur the mvp

user: i love how ev is always in joes comments replying to everyone. she’s my favorite person ever.

> breezyevie: stop it, you’re my favorite person ever!

user: overrated af

> breezyevie: i think you mean hot af. because dayum. 🥵

user: THE JOE SHOW

breezyevie: the goat reporting for duty?

> joeyb_9: dork 🤣

bengals: He’s back!

BONUS:

liked by millyg, lahjay10_, joeyb_9 and 780,826 others

breezyevie: i love you.. and that’s the beginning and end of everything.

view all 7,283 comments…

user: omg! i just seen joes post!

user: i’m so happy i could cry!

millyg: my best friend.. you deserve this love.

user: not joe posting you for this after not posting you for like 4 years

joeyb_9: life with you is my favorite.

> breezyevie: please never change.

user: get that ring!

joeyb_9

liked by breezyevie, millyg, sam_hubbard_ and 871,038 others

joeyb_9: vibes are pretty.

view all 8,372 comments…

user: joe please i can’t handle this i have exams to study for

user: there is no fucking way he just dropped this bomb

user: the most basic caption ever

> user: yall cant ever just be satisfied. obviously its not a problem for them, let them enjoy this.

user: respectfully, this ruined my day.

user: I AM SO EXCITED

user: ev finally becoming that NFL wifey!

breezyevie: i will be smiling and giggling uncontrollably for the foreseeable future. i love you jb. 4ever.

[y2kmcblingirliee]

Pairings -|Dom!Kate, Mean!Kate| |sub!reader| Kate x Black Fem Reader

cw: first person pov praise kink/ slight degradation |

I was scrolling through my daily dose of edits of my girlfriend. screaming & kicking her feet at how hot she is. Waiting for Kate to get home. Usually I would go to practice with her, but this day I was feeling very tired so I decided to stay home. I cut off my phone & turned on my favorite show “HeartBreak High” to binge watch the new season. Before I could even watch the first episode I go & grab some snacks from the pantry. I grab some cookies & hot Cheetos. I go back to me & Kate’s shared room. I start to get really into the show until I hear a knock door. I went to go open the door & I see Kate standing there with her basketball bag & some flowers. (Ps, they’re my favorite kind!!) Kate leans in to give me a kiss & hands me the flowers. We go to my room.

Kate tells me “Baby, there is this party you wanna come be my plus 1?” I say “of course you know i love parties!!” So we both get in the shower together. Of course Kate is being all touchy, but we continue showering. I put on my cute little outfit. Kate is eyeing me up & down. She said “Baby, you look so good.” & slaps my ass.

She holds my hand & walks with me to the car. As Kate is driving she puts her hand on my thigh. I’m taking selfies on my phone of me & her. Kate decided to start touching on the waist band of my pants & puts her hand inside of my thong. So of course I turn to look at Kate & I’m like “Babe, what are you doing?” She says “My hand is just cold” with a smile on her face as she leans in to give me a kiss. Kate continues to drive with her hand in my pants. I put my phone in my bag & listen to Kate’s Playlist. Kate continues to finger me as she’s driving. I start to moan at the sudden stop. Kate takes her fingers out and licks on them & continues driving as if she just wasn’t in me..

So I start begging. Saying things like “Baby, that felt so good please put your hand back.” & kissing her neck & saying “Baby, can you just roll your seat back please.” To her saying “No, Y/N I need to drive us to this party, okay?” So of course I sit with a pout, cross my arms & I turn to the window acting very dramatic! (Which I mean who wouldn’t, I was just about to come..) Kate just laughs at the fact & continues driving.

After what felt like forever we finally get to the party! I see my friends, I go over and start talking to Hannah & Jada. We are all talking until I turn my head & I see Kate just eyeing me down from across the room. So I tell them I’ll be right back, I go to grab a drink & walk over to where Kate is standing. I say “Hi baby, what are you doing.” & Kate holds onto my waist & puts me in front of her.

While she’s kissing up on my neck. As she’s kissing me I smell the Victory Golden on her mouth. I turn around and whisper to her “Babe, aren’t you speaking to your friends, I just want to check up on you.” Kate starts to eye me down & whisper back to me & say “Baby, honestly I just want to be in you right now..” So I laugh & I walk off, mid way Kate slaps my ass. I continue walking back over to my friends.

I go back over to Hannah, Jada. Kennise FINALLY came to the party after taking what felt like forever to get ready. Of course “sexy redd - Get it sexyy” comes on! So of course the three of us walk over and start acting BADD. We are all twerking on each other & having so much fun! I look across the room & see Kate sitting down with a cup of what looks like don julio in her hand, with her legs spread out watching me dance. I see her laughing with Caitlin. I walk over & sit on Kate’s lap. I start to kiss on her while begging her to come dance with me! Which she says “Of course baby cmon.” I grab her hand & they change the song to “It bend like Banana by Vybz Kartel” Obviously I start whining on her. Don’t let Kate’s whiteness fool you she can buss down behind a few whines.

As I’m dancing, she starts to kiss on my neck again & starts saying “baby let’s go home. I want you.” I say “but baby, I’m having so much fun though!” Kate says back “I know baby, I know. But I want to make you feel real good alright mama?” I say Okay to her and hold her hand as we start saying bye to our friends. Eventually We get to our car. Kate quickly starts the car & gets us home asap. Kate starts to make out with me as I’m trying to unlock the front door so it takes a minute, until I finally get the door open which felt like AGES. We start to walk up the stairs & Kate pushes me on the bed. Kate starts to take off her shirt & pants. I start to do the same but she stops me & says “Baby, I’ll do that for you.” Kate takes off my shirt & my pants leaving me in only my thong & bra. She starts to kiss down my whole body & she goes down near my thighs. She gets close to my pussy & takes off my thong with her teeth. As she does that she starts to eat me out. I start tapping her as a signal to stop. So Kate lifts her head. She says “What?” & I tell her I’m getting a call.

She says “Okay well try to stay quiet then, You wanted it so bad didn’t you?” Kate drops from under me. She goes in the bathroom she puts her hair in a bun, she grabs my silk scarf & bonnet. I answer the call. I’m talking on the phone with my friend. Kate comes over & starts to wrap my hair for me but she says “your gonna need it, it’s gonna be a long night.” She winks at me & starts to go down and kiss my thighs. I say to my friend “No, but yeah we should definitely go to that party. I mean it would be a bunch of fun.” Kate starts to eat me out at this point. So I'm stuttering & moaning. She’s making me look a hot mess, until I eventually just hang up the phone. Kate says “Oh no why’d you hang up on your friend?” I say “I couldn’t handle speaking & having your tongue on me.”

Kate starts smiling like the cocky motherfucker she is. I say but you can continue now. Kate says “no, I’m done I’m gonna go shower.” & I’m like “wait that’s all?” Kate says “Be grateful for what I give you, I could’ve gave you nothing at all.” With her winking & walking to the bathroom. I just turned over & went to sleep thinking how can Kate be so cruel.. Kate gets into the bed & cuddles up with me as I have my little pout on my face. Kate just starts to kiss me a bunch till the pout goes away & forms into a smile. We fall asleep together.

I hope you enjoyed!!

[hearts4hughes]

hits different | trevor zegras

(trevor zegras x fem! reader)

a/n: i’ve had this idea in my notes forever, and i’ve just managed to finish it😭 it took wayyyy too long, but i’m proud of this!

warnings: intoxication, alcohol, angst, light swearing

the pulsating bass reverberates through your body as you stand at the bar, drink in hand, trying to wash your hands of the memories of a love gone wrong. your mind drifts to the mess that trevor made of you and the hurtful images that linger in your thoughts.

you wondered if he had already moved on. if he was cooking for another girl at his apartment, or if he had strolled through the streets of anaheim with her hand in hand. had he forgotten about you? three years of love washed down the drain like dirt and filth as he confided in another woman with his love. just the mere thought sends waves of nausea through your body.

it didn’t make sense. you thought breaking up with him was the right decision, but since then, all you’ve felt was pure heartbreak.

it all started with the duck’s bad season. he was frustrated and stressed. he thought he was the problem- even though he wasn’t- and he went into an emotional hole. at the time, you didn’t understand what was happening. you thought he fell out of love with you, so as hard as it was, you broke up with him. the second the words flew off your tongue, he broke down- sobbing, yelling, begging, anything that would help you stay.

you can't help but reflect on how you used to move on so easily, like switching out partners and escaping town, but everything feels different now. the bars you visit play songs that remind you of what once was, and it hurts like nothing you've experienced before.

“y/n,” julia calls out, snapping you back into reality, “you have to stop thinking of him, it’s not going to help.” her hand rubs comfortingly up and down your back. you look at her, your face completely blank of emotion. it’s easier said than done to forget about someone who preoccupied so much of your time, and the alcohol in your system isn’t helping.

“i know, i just,” you stammer, “i just can’t escape him. it’s like he’s haunting me. everywhere i look i’m reminded of the memories we made.” she looks at you with pity.

“love is a lie, babe. you know this already.” she says- the same thing she’s been telling you since forever. “remember when you broke up with aaron?” she asks and you nod in response. “you thought he was the one and that you’d never ever move on, but after a little bit you did. you just need to give it time and you’ll get over him.”

whining, you grab your shot, throwing your head back and downing it. your nose scrunched as the alcohol burned down your throat. “but what if i don’t want to get over him, jul? i don’t want to forget about him. i just want to be with him, i just want trevor.” your words were slurred- almost incoherent.

people around you began to stare and watch the unfolding scene. protectively, julia brought you into a hug, shielding your face from everyone before they saw your tears. “let’s get you home, honey.” she cooed, wrapping her arm around your waist and helping you out of your seat.

-

julia brought you home, making sure you got into your house safely before driving away. you swung the front door open and stumbled into your apartment. the digital clock on the wall read 2:20am. you ripped off your heels, discarding them somewhere in your living room, and walking into your bedroom. your hair was a frizzy mess, lipstick smudged, mascara smeared everywhere, but you could care less.

you find yourself alone in your room, surrounded by memories of the past, with one particular item catching your eye- trevor’s hat. it sits on a shelf, seemingly untouched since the day you parted ways. the sight of it evokes a rush of bittersweet emotions, and you can't help but pick it up, feeling its fabric against your fingertips. the hat holds a piece of him, a piece of the love you once shared, and the weight of the memories is overwhelming.

as you hold the hat in your hands, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. memories of your time together flood your mind – the laughter, the inside jokes, the intimate moments shared under that very hat. you miss him, and the feeling intensifies with each passing day. the warmth and comfort that his presence once brought into your life are now a distant memory.

you bring the hat close to your chest, hugging it tightly as if it was him. the scent of his cologne, faint but still lingering, brings you back to those tender moments when he would embrace you, and your heart aches.

with each tear that falls, you let yourself feel the grief, the longing, and the emptiness that comes with a wound that hasn’t completely healed. you find yourself whispering his name into the fabric, wishing he were there, holding you.

suddenly, you hear a key turning in the door down the hallway. is it him? is it trevor? or has julia come to take you away from your apartment and the suffocating reminders of him?

the door closes and you hear footsteps approaching your room. the footsteps become louder as the mystery person gets closer. you close your eyes, not bothered to know who it is; however, a small part of you hopes, even wishes that it’s him.

“love?” he calls out, causing your eyes to shoot open. you see him standing in the doorway- a blurry version of him due to the alcohol and crying. a frown adorns his lips as he looks down at you. your tear stained face and bloodshot eyes give him a hint of what you were just doing. “oh y/n,” he coos, making his way over to you and repositioning you into his lap.

his arms snake around your body, pulling you close to his chest. you open your mouth to say something, but the words get caught in your throat. he presses reassuring kisses to the top of your head as you cry into his embrace.

"i’m so sorry, y/n," he whispers, his voice filled with remorse. "i messed up, and i’ve been a mess ever since you left." you try to find the right words to say, but your emotions are too overwhelming, your heart too raw. instead, you bury your face in his chest, holding on to him as if he might slip away again.

"fuck, i thought you moved on," you manage to say through your tears, your voice shaking. "all i could imagine was you with another girl, trev.”

he sights, gently rubbing your back. "no, love, there hasn't been anyone else. i’ve been miserable without you. you were always the one."

“i thought you had fallen out of love with me, that’s why i broke up with you.” your voice trembles with hurt as he feels a pang of guilt in his heart.

his expression softens, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "i was going through a rough time, and I didn't know how to handle it. i thought i was the problem, and i didn't want to bother you with my struggles. i never meant to hurt you." you move your head away from his body, staring deeply into his eyes. he’s been crying too. in that moment, you realize that he's hurting too, and maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for healing and forgiveness.

"i miss you, trevor," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "my friends try to take me out to have fun and get drunk, but i always end up slurring your name until someone puts me in a car. they’re going to stop inviting me soon.” you joke- a coping mechanism you’ve had since you were young.

he lets out a small laugh, bringing his hand up to wipe away stray tears, “i’m here now," he replies, "and i want to try again, to make things right. i love you, and my life is a fucking wreck without you."

“i love you too,” your voice is soft and sincere. a smile graces his lips and for the first time since forever, your lips connect with his, reviving what you thought was gone.

[stormberry-12]

Hellooo how are you this fine evening..

I wanted the ask if you could make one for jj where he does something that upsets the reader and she’s crying and sad and jj gets the silent treatment the whole week but he starts to cry hard and beg for her to talk to him and reader can’t help but comfort and hug him and give him all the love that she has and jj is all pouty and sad in the end

It’s fine if not <3 :)

didn't mean to ~ jj maybank x reader

pairing: JJ Maybank x Kook!Fem!Reader

warnings: language, angst, arguing, silent treatment.

notes: thxs for the request! Sorry I haven't posted in forever guys, im doing final exams at school rn and stuff. Also, sorry this is so short. But anyway, I loved this concept and also hated the way they solved JJ and Kie's fight in Season 3 so I tried to recreate it here with a better ending. Sorry, this took so long lol, much love!

"I mean, it would all blow up anyway. You know? Like... Look at you. You got your new threads on!" JJ exclaimed. "Look at me. What do I got? This? This piece of shit?" He threw something out of frustration, panting. You looked back at his run-down house, the eviction notice nailed to the front door with bright yellow police tape crossing over it.

"Getting kicked out of this place in three weeks anyway. shit, I don't even got parents right now. Why would you care? Why would you care? I'm just some loser that..."

"JJ..."

"You don't care. No, you don't!"

"I do care!" you shouted, getting frustrated with his attitude.

"No, you got parents that live in Figure Eight, you know?"

"That's not my fault."

"That's your future." he countered walking towards the water, hand running through his hair in frustration.

"Look, if you need us, we're gonna help you. I'm... I'll help."

"No- It's that right there! Okay? Like... It's so easy for you to say that." he whirled around to face you, yelling, "You know why? Because you're a Kook. You're a Kook, Y/n!"

"Yeah... I'm a Kook. I was such a Kook when I was living in a cave with you for a month! Soaking in the Kook life!"

"That's not what I'm talking about. GOD!" he exclaimed, reaching for his bike, he swung his leg over the seat.

"Jayj, don't leave." you pleaded, the engine of his bike revved and he started to drive away,

"JJ, WHAT THE HELL?" You screamed after him, tears rolling down your face, "MAYBANK!"

You were pissed the fuck off.

The first day after your fight you hadn't seen JJ, you cried for a couple hours, indulging in your favorite ice cream watching a sad rom-com, really getting in your feels.

Kie texted you to ask you what was up, the pogues had gone fishing that day but you never showed, to angry and sad to show your face to the world.

'Ask the blond kid,' was all you responded. you watched as her three typing bubbles flashed beneath your text.

'shit head's not here either,' she responded. 'wtf is going on,'

'fight. he called me a kook.'

'oh shit,' was all she said.

A few days later you walked around the chateau and dug through John B's fridge, you were fully aware of JJ's presence on the couch but still continued to ignore him. It was closing in on a week since you had last uttered a word to him.

Grabbing a chilled beer you walked past JJ and to the front door.

"Y/n," he said, voice cracking.

It wasn't the first time JJ had tried to talk to you this week and once again you ignored him. You slipped your shoes on and walked out onto the porch, slamming the door behind you. You flinched at how harsh it was but brushed the feeling away as you took a sip of your drink.

You sat at the edge of JJ's hot tub, the disco lights twinkled in the water, and the beer started to make you feel nauseous. You set it down and let out a shaky breath, blinking away tears that made the colorful lights spur in all different directions.

'Oh stop it Y/n' you told yourself, you would not cry anymore over this boy, if he didn't want to date a 'kook' that was his problem.

A long time must have passed, you had slid down fully into the hot tub finishing off your drink and basking in your own thoughts. The sun had set and the tides changed across the water.

"Go!" You heard someone on the deck grunt, you looked up to see John B pushing JJ out the door towards you locking him outside. JJ made his way down the stairs awkwardly and stood at the edge of the hot tub across from you, not getting in like he was looking for your permission.

"What do you want Maybank?" you asked quietly.

"I-uh," he sniffled and you focused closer in the dim light to see tears streaming down his face. "I made you a bracelet,"

He mumbled in the softest voice that made your heart clench and reached out to hand it to you. You looked at it closely, intricate little hearts knotted into the design, made with your favorite colors. And of course, the sea blue strings that you had told him reminded you of his eyes countless times. You didn't know what to say. Until you heard the soft sobbing coming from his lips, he thought you didn't like it.

"No, JJ..." you cooed, wrapping the bracelet around your wrist and tieing it in a crisp knot. You slid yourself through the water and stood in front of him taking in his state. He looked at you with pleading eyes and you wrapped your arms around him. He collapsed into you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your shoulder. You felt butterflies in your stomach at his touch and lifted a hand to stroke his hair. God you loved this boy so much.

"I-i'm sorry," he cried, "I called you a kook, I'm such a dick, It's all my fault..."

"No, Jayj-" you whispered.

"Yes,"

"No, I am in the wrong too, shouldn't have ignored you like that," you whispered.

"But I called you a kook," he said again.

"And then I was acting like one, it was wrong,"

You stood there in silence hugging each other, you you feel his breathing slow and he recovered to look up at you.

"Please forgive me," he said.

"Always, as long as you forgive me," he nodded frantically at you causing you to giggle.

"Thank god that's over," you heard Pope say in the distance.

"Yeah, pass me one of those?" Kie said, taking a beer out of the cooler, the rest of the pogues walking toward the hot tub.

You all settle down in the warm water, JJ snuggling into your side, looking at your bracelet sweetly for the rest of the night. You kissed the top of his head, knowing what ever happed in the future you could always get through it with him.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Forever｡⋆.

The Ghoul x plus size reader

So, when I hold her close I might loosen my grip, but I won't ever let her go

Warnings: very loosely implied cannibalism, fluff, no use of Y/N

WC: 481

Stick Season (We'll All Be Here Forever)

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The Wasteland was beautiful in a way, she thought. The vast emptiness that unfolded in front of her from her perch in an abandoned highrise was what she imagined the pre-war ocean to look like; waves of yellow and orange, reflecting the setting sun. 

“Eat.” The rasp of her companion pulled her gaze from the haze of night quickly settling over them. She looked upon the embers of the now extinguished fire where her dinner sat, warming. She did not know where the cut of meat had come from, nor did she care to find out. But the rumble of her stomach was all the motivation she needed to reach out and carefully lift the charred slab from where it rested upon an ancient pan.

The crunch of dirt under his boots was all the warning she received before the sun-worn ghoul took a seat on the bench beside her. A groan passed his lips like a puff of air as he finally laid down his heavy load. “We’ll get to Philly tomorrow, what’s left of it anyway. Stop for supplies.” 

She hummed in agreement as she leaned back against the window sill. “I’m almost outta vials.” It was an almost defeated answer to a question she hadn’t asked. She knew he had been reckless with the last job, pushing himself too far, stretching his stash too thin. But long gone were the days where she would scream at him for being so stupid as he ignored her almost constant warnings. Now she only wiped her right hand off on her dusty pants and fished three small vials from a pocket on her plump thigh.

Without a word, she handed them to him and took another bite of her meal. The leather of his gloves gently caressed her palm as he took the last dregs of humanity he had left. “You always carry these ‘round?”

His voice was far softer than she was used to, sand against sand rather than the grind of stones. She finally looked over at him, just catching the flash of long-dead emotion in his deep brown eyes. “It’s what us cowpoke do, stay prepared.” She winked at him with a small but no-less genuine smile, expecting a snide comment from the old ghoul.

Instead, he took her free hand into his own, their fingers intertwining. She could feel the places where they had been broken and cut, the roughness of his skin that came with the curse of his very existence. His grip on her tightened as he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

She simply nodded and turned back to watch as the last ember flickered out as his eyes remained upon her, some long dormant ache in his chest rearing up once more.

And as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, in the darkness, he could smile back at her.

[Verse 1] Let's drive for no reason, let's see where these wheels land Let's grind down the curve of this earth You look fine in the evening and, honey, it's starting to storm When we kissed in the car in the school parking lot Where I'd go with my friends to get drunk Used to wish I meant anything to anywhere, to anyone [Pre-Chorus] When forever was a sentence, sentence to death Oh, when you wеre a running tear, I was a drop of sweat And thе edges of your soul, I haven't seen yet Now I'm glad I get forever to see where you end [Chorus] I won't be alone for the rest of my life I'll build a boat for when the river gets high And I'll meet a girl in the heat of July And I'll tell her so she knows That I'm broke, but I'm real rich in my head That I broke a bone that never healed in my hand So, when I hold her close I might loosen my grip, but I won't ever let her go I won't ever let her go Woo [Verse 2] Remember when we called the cops 'Cause I got too high, and you got scared And the cops just laughed? We can't make rent, so we window-shop In the Upper West Side , oh, my God Could you imagine that? [Chorus] I won't be alone for the rest of my life I'll build a boat for when the river gets high And I'll meet a girl in the heat of July And I'll tell her so she knows That I'm broke, but I'm real rich in my head That I broke a bone that never healed in my hand So, when I hold her close I might loosen my grip, but I won't ever let her go I won't ever let her go [Outro] When forever was a sentence, sentence to death Oh, when you were a running tear, I was a drop of sweat And the edges of your soul, I haven't seen yet Now I'm glad I get forever to see where you end To see where you end

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv @black-rose-29 @minedofmoria

[miss-sweetea-pie]

One of my favorite parallels between Aang and Zuko is during the crossroads of destiny episode. I feel like it’s more subtle since lot that happened was side sweep mostly in Aang case unfortunately.

For most of the story we noticed Aang and Zuko are parallel with each other for example we get their back stories at the same time, we watch them work together. And during the guru and crossroad episode we see that they need to make an active decision on who they are meant to be. Time to face there wants and needs.

For Aang his want is to be with Katara no matter the cost vs his need to master the avatar state.

And for Zuko it’s wanting to go home to the fire nation vs need to do the right thing and make an active decision and be branded as a traitor.

And the really interesting part is that the writers use katara as an anchor in away to express this point.

My favorite way to explain it is that Zuko was suppose to let Katara in and Aang was suppose to let her go.

And guess what they both fail.

Zuko’s betrayal was supposed to be a surprise for both the audience and the characters. all out in the open. oh no! Zuzu we where rooting for you! How could you?

Aangs betrayal was a secret only the audience and Aang knew about it. And it should have been explored more in season three. And yes Aang did betray everyone when he turn his back on the Guru. And he definitely betrayed Katara in that moment, because all katara wants is for him to have control of the avatar state and end this war. And it crazy that Aang keeps the truth to himself, like he doesn’t feel bad about keeping that from Katara? So much for getting the mark of the trusted. Am I right? (Sure the show tried to explain that azula’s lightning blocked his chakras now but that sounds more like a sloppy way to fix it so Aang can get his forever girl, also it ruins the narrative, this was an internal struggle for Aang to overcome) I have heard the argument that Aang being shot with lightning was a punishment for letting go of Katara but I see it more as a punishment for letting her go in that moment when he should have already done it. Think about it if he just mastered the avatar state he essentially could’ve just rolled into Ba Sing Se with god mode activated, stopped Azula and black sun would have been a success and war is over. Him not letting go of Katara when the Guru suggests it does however tie into he’s character flaw, avoidance. he waited till he has no choice but to do it so he is “punished” for it.

Well at least Zuko got to redeem himself. All Aang got was a perfectly place rock it’s a shame.

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Note: request by @bubblyabs! thank you so much!! I hope you'll like it!

Warnings: SKMD SPOILERS. fluff/smut 18+, a lot of fourth wall breaking and my infamous attempt at humor.

pairing: SKMD!Sihtric x Modern!You (f)

summary: The fictional man of your dreams was suddely not so fictional anymore.

wordcount: 5,2k

'You looked really hot there.'

There you were again, wrapped in a blanket on your couch, ready to once again finish another binge rewatch of The Last Kingdom. You just couldn't stop yourself. Ever since you became obsessed with the show, you could watch nothing else. No other series appealed to you anymore, and you kept going back to the very first episode, pathetically anticipating the second season, because that's where your favourite character comes in; Sihtric Kjartansson. The man needs no introduction, if we're honest. 

You don't know what exactly it is about him, but you were smitten. Each time he appeared on screen, you needed a glass of water and a cold shower afterwards.

You thought the actor who played him was cute too, you just couldn't really recall his name, you only remembered he had some complicated last name, Federsomething. However, cute or not, nothing was better than the rugged look of that pretty Danish rat boy in that medieval Netflix show. And so, only several weeks since your last rewatch, you were watching the movie again, which was the very last taste of the entire show you would ever get. Until they'll make some lousy remake in 10 years or something, which you would obviouslly not watch because you couldn't stand the thought of all those actors being replaced. Not on your watch.

Anyway, you had cried your absolute eyes out during the movie when you saw it the first time. But more importantly: whoever was responsible for Sihtric's haircut in the movie, was an actual blessing from the lord. Every time you saw his very first scene in that movie, where he walks up to Uhtred, with that long, loose hair, you simply just slide down your couch, being a whole hot mess. The things you would do to get that man in your bed, and the things you would do to him… oh, if only he wasn't fictional. You'd let him rail you, but alas.

And that made you groan each time. The most beautiful and perfect man you had ever seen was freaking fictional! It seems ridiculous, but Sihtric just ticked all your boxes.

He was funny, brave, loyal, adorable, hot, sexy, maybe not the smartest but you had no problem taking care of that man, he was good with weapons, he was protective and a real family man. What else could a you possibly want? You cursed Bernard Cornwell for coming up with the character and whoever casted that actor, as they are clearly responsible for you being forever single. Because you would never settle for anyone who was not Sihtric Kjartansson; fictional character and the goddamn love of your life.

And just like two weeks ago, you finished the movie and switched off your tv, while being a sobbing, snotty mess once again. Your three week holiday had just started, and your initial plan was to stay up late each night, but you had a headache from crying, so you decided to go to bed when it wasn't even close to midnight.

The next morning you woke up early because of some loud banging. You figured the toddlers of your upstairs neighbours were at it again, banging their fists on the wall, running through their apartment. You could hear their little gremlin claws stomp and scratch everywhere they went. But you had to admit, they were louder than usual today, and it actually sounded like they were kicking and stomping at your front door.

You groaned and got dressed for another day of simply doing nothing. You started your coffee machine and opened the door to your little hallway, which led through the front door. You hadn't checked for any mail downstairs in a few days, and it was time to leave your cave for that little adventure to the main hall of your apartment building.

But you would not get there, at least, not any time soon. No. You were about to get the biggest jump scare of your life, to which you would scream so loud, it would without a doubt wake up the entire city. And after that, everything would turn black in front of your eyes.

During your unconscious state you had the weirdest dream. You had opened the door to your hallway and found the cause of that weird banging noise. The noise came from your own apartment. The noise was created by a man, kicking at, and rattling your door, in a pathetic attempt to open it. And it wasn't just any man. 

You recognised him from the back within a split second. It was the fictional man of your dreams, dressed in the red-brownish leather armour he wore when you last saw him on your tv, his hair braided and his face bloody and bewildered. You screamed so loud when you saw him, that someone probably called the cops, because it was a horrible, distressing sound. And it also scared the hell out of Sihtric, who turned to face you while reaching for the hilt of his sword as he stepped closer. But after a second, his expression changed from anger to astonishment, and he stared at you, all confused and wide-eyed. You stared into his mismatched eyes as he was merely two paces away from you. 

'Lady?' he said, with the voice and accent that simply set your body on fire whenever you heard it. 

And you randomly thought how Sihtric looked taller on tv than he did in real life, in your hallway, and then everything just turned black.

And it turned out that it wasn't a dream. But it all had actually happened before you passed out, in your hallway. Sihtric had been quick to catch your fall and caught you in his arms. While still completely confused, and in shock, he had carried you into your living room and carefully laid you down on your couch. And as it would take a good five minutes before you regained consciousness again, Sihtric took a quick look around your apartment, growing more confused and concerned with every passing second.

And you suddenly opened your eyes again as he had his back turned to you.

You blinked rapidly, your eyes trying to focus on the backside of the man in armour, which you recognised all too well. It hadn't been a dream, it all actually happened. And it was still happening apparently. How the fuck was this possible? Did someone prank you? Did someone pay a ridiculous amount of money to hire the actual actor, just to scare the shit out of you and to mess with you? Breaking your heart in the process as you could never be with the man of your dreams? What a sick joke.

While that medieval looking hunk stared at your family pictures, you quietly took your phone from your pocket and opened instagram. Your eyes grew wide when you saw that the actual actor, who you knew played Sihtric in the show, had posted a story just a minute ago, announcing that he was currently in some country, far away from yours, at a comic con.

'No way,' you whispered, 'but then who the fuck-', you looked back at Sihtric again, who had made his way over to your Last Kingdom book collection. 

He stared at it, but as you couldn't see his face, you had no idea what he was doing because you remembered he shouldn't be able to read. You followed his movements with huge eyes, completely in shock, and without realising it, your phone slipped out of your hands and dropped on the floor with a loud thump. You spooked Sihtric, who slightly jumped, and was quick to turn around, again ready to draw his sword.

'Where am I?' he asked, trying to sound calm.

'W-what… uh, England?'

'England?' 

'E-England,' you said again.

'What is the year, lady?'

'2024.'

'What?'

'No, sorry! Sorry, I- I mean 2023!'

Sihtric stared at you, and you thought if he wouldn't blink soon, his eyes would dry out.

'H-how did you get here?' you asked.

'How did you get here?' he asked cautiously.

'I… live here?' you frowned.

'Why?'

You blinked. 'Because… I… pay to live here?'

'Oh,' Sihtric said, then nodded, 'that seems fair. What is that?' he asked, pointing to your tv.

'It's a t- uhh,' you figured that if for some reason this really was Sihtric, the medieval dude from your favourite tv show, he would not know what a tv is, so for the sake of playing it safe, you lied, 'it's a… art.'

'Art?'

'Yes, like a drawing,' you panicked.

Sihtric looked at the tv, then back at you, and said, 'but it's all black?'

'Well, it's… modern… art? It's really expensive,' you said, hoping he would not try to break your tv for whatever reason.

'Expensive?'

'Yes,' you said, 'it's, uh, over a six hundred poun- pieces of silver.'

Sihtric looked back at your tv again, scratched his forehead, and then locked eyes with you again, 'Lady,' he snickered, 'I think someone has fooled you. That drawing is not worth that amount of silver.'

You smiled, simply agreeing, while anticipating his next move.

'Is that,' he squinted his eyes and walked over to your kitchen, 'Uhtred?' he frowned, looking at your coffee cup which had a picture of Uhtred's face on it, 'why?' Sihtric asked as he looked back at you.

'I, uhh…' were you going to tell him they didn't have a cup with his face on it, and that you had sent an angry email to the company? Maybe not. You cleared your throat, but before you could speak, Sihtric's eyes found the large framed poster of him, Finan and Uhtred on your wall. And his eyes grew wide. 

'Where did you get that? Why am I… why are… wh-,' Sihtric stopped talking, then eventually said, 'who made this painting?'

'... Google?' 

'Who is Google?'

'It's, well, so,' you stammered.

'You paid six hundred pieces of silver for this too?'

'Wha- no, more like…seven.'

'Seven hundred?' Sihtric gasped, 'lady,' he smiled, clearly flattered.

'No! I mean like seven pou- bloody pieces of silver!'

'Seven?' he frowned, suddenly offended, 'only seven? Yet you paid six hundred for that?' he pointed at your tv.

'Sihtric, look,' you sighed.

'How do you know my name?' he asked, frightened.

Okay. This had to stop, right now. What the fuck is going on? 

You told Sihtric to shut up, a little harsher than you really meant, but so be it. You took his hands and sat him down on your couch. For some reason he kept holding your hands, which you obviously didn't mind, and you tried to explain how you knew who he was while desperately not trying to get distracted by his appearance. Those tattooed fingers, the tattoo on his neck, and all those scars. He was even more handsome in real life. If this was real life, of course.

'You… you have seen my life?' Sihtric frowned, 'on… the black painting?'

'Yes, it's called a tv. Here, I can show you,' you took the remote, and Sihtric gasped when he suddenly heard noise and saw moving images on the previously black screen.

'Sorcery,' he whispered with big eyes, squeezing your hand.

'No, not sorcery,' you said, remembering how awfully superstitious he was in season 3. And how cute he looked in season 3. Well, he was cute in every season.

'The… the people,' Sihtric suddenly said, 'are they s-stuck?'

'Stuck?'

'Are they stuck in the painting?' he asked, concerned.

'What? No… no, it's… oh god,' you sighed, 'the people are fine,' you smiled.

You quickly switched on Seven Kings Must Die, and you thought Sihtric was going to pass out. He jumped up when he saw Finan and Ingrith, near the beginning of the movie, in Uhtred's hall, your favourite scene, and he ran to the tv.

'Finan!' Sihtric yelled, 'is he stuck?' he looked back at you, worried, 'can he… can he hear me?'

Sihtric turned to the tv again and pressed his fingers against the screen.

'No! Don't touch the screen!' you yelled, worried he'd damage it with his rough fingers, and Sihtric was quick to pull his hand back with a flinch. And you felt horrible for making him flinch, but before you could apologise, Sihtric had composed himself again.

'But… F-Finan?' he asked, 'is he okay? Where is he?'

'Finan is fine! He's not stuck! This all already happened… right?' you grimaced, hoping you were right somehow.

Sihtric looked at you, confused, then back to the screen, and he stumbled backwards when he saw his own face appear on the magic painting. He watched the scene unfold, and he didn't know what to say, he just stared at the screen as he reached for your hand again.

'You looked really hot there,' you blurted out, and you felt yourself blush.

'Hot?' Sihtric frowned, 'I wasn't hot, lady. It was a cold night! Can't you see the furs?' he scoffed.

'No, I mean, you- … no, you're right. It must've been… really cold that day.'

'It was,' Sihtric said sternly, and looked back at the screen again, 'I remember this,' he gasped, 'Finan said he only fell asleep once,' he said, just seconds before Finan said the line on tv.

'See!' Sihtric gasped and looked at you again, 'he actually has fallen asleep many times, lady,' he grinned.

Holy fuck. You didn't even think about that. Sihtric obviously knew everything that had happened, the whole story, not just the bits and pieces you saw from their lives on tv.

'H-has he?' you asked, cautiously.

'Yes, lady,' Sihtric said, 'it often happened because he had too much ale the night before. And because he's old,' he winked with a grin.

'Oh,' you snickered, 'I see. And… you never fell asleep?'

'Me? no, never,' he said with confidence.

'Are you sure?'

'Yes, lady.'

You hummed and skipped to the scene where both Finan and Sihtric had fallen asleep, while Uhtred was awake.

'So…' you smiled, pointing at the tv.

Sihtric gasped, 'No, that… see! See, I'm awake. I was merely resting my eyes, I was… in deep thought,' he lied.

'Okay,' you laughed, 'if you say so.'

You watched Sihtric's face, which went from mildly ashamed to a light chuckle, and soon he laughed softly along with you. He still had no idea how it was possible that he could see his own face on your expensive painting, but Sihtric was a simple guy; he saw a pretty lady and he was smitten, not caring about much else anymore, except for winning your heart. He clearly didn't know you were basically ready to marry him on the spot. And for some reason you both just seemed to accept the situation, no questions asked. You watched the rest of the movie together, and it was surreal. Sihtric remembered everything, told you little anecdotes and simply seemed to enjoy seeing his friends on your screen.

'So… did Uhtred die?' you asked when the end credits were shown on screen.

'Uhtred died?!' Sihtric gasped.

'What? No, I mean, I'm asking you!'

'Uhtred was alive when I last saw him!' Sihtric said, and so you found out Sihtric had ended up in your world only hours after that heartbreaking last scene in the movie.

'Okay, then I'm sure he's, uh, fine,' you tried to convince yourself as much as you tried to convince Sihtric. 'Also,' you cleared your throat, 'what happened to your wife and kids?'

'Oh,' he said, 'we had a rough divorce. She broke my heart and took the kids,' he shrugged.

'Oh,' you blinked, surprised, 'I'm… sorry?'

'Are you married?' Sihtric blurted out.

'Uh, me?' you chuckled, twirling your hair, looking the handsome Dane up and down, 'n-no, I'm not. Why?' you kicked your feet.

Sihtric stared at you, he just couldn't believe his luck after being strangely teleported into a different year and world, ending up with a beautiful lady who wasn't married. But then he thought that was odd, because why weren't you married yet? A pretty lady who was clearly rich, at least that's what he thought, who lived in a nice home, was of marriage age, who was also very kind and funny, and with a body which he would undoubtedly be thinking of later that night. Why has no one married you yet, he wondered.

'Are you cursed?' he said without thinking.

'What?'

'Cursed,' he said again, 'you're not married. Why?'

'Uh, well,' you cleared your throat, 'I'm… picky.'

Sure, picky. You were simply in love with the medieval, fictional man on your couch, and you would never settle for anything less. 

'Picky?' Sihtric frowned.

'Yes,' you replied, 'only a certain kind of man could win my heart,' you grinned, mindlessly twirling your hair around your fingers again.

'Oh?' Sihtric raised an eyebrow and smirked, clearly intrigued.

And he thought of it as a game now, a game he desperately wanted to play, because he wanted to know if he could win. And gods, how he wanted to win you and take you back home with him. Or stay here with you, he really didn't care, not after you just batted your eyelashes at him. No, he would do everything for you now.

'So,' he cleared his throat, shifting a little closer next to you on the couch, 'what kind of man would that be?'

'Hm,' you hummed, thinking as if you weren't looking at that specific man, 'a man who is… kind,' you said, 'loyal and brave,' you smiled at him.

Sihtric hummed and licked his lips as he gave you a playful look. He knew he was kind, loyal and brave, so he figured his chances with you were pretty good right now.

'And… someone who is not afraid to take charge,' you teased, seeing if he's willing to take the bait.

Sihtric grinned and slightly adjusted his position.

'He also has to be protective,' you said, 'and strong,' your eyes trailed down to his clothed biceps, knowing very well what's underneath all of that fabric he was wearing.

'Well,' Sihtric smiled, a little cocky, 'I might just be the man for you then.'

'You think so? I'm not sure…,' you played it cool, but inside you were going stark raving mad, this surely had to be a dream.

'I think I am,' he gave you a smirk and winked.

You were absolutely ready to pull that man in your bed, but it was only noon, you had just met him a few hours ago, and everything was just really freaking weird. So you held back. You told him you'd think about it, to which he frowned, playfully offended. You bickered a little and eventually ended up discussing what on earth you two were going to do now. He had nowhere to go, and you didn't want to kick him out, but he was still a stranger. Even though he had lived in your head rent free for years already. You told him first things first; he had to get into different clothes. Which he agreed to. You did some digging and found some sweatpants you had bought online years ago, which turned out way too big for you, and you had forgotten to return it, which came in handy now. Unfortunately, the sweatpants were pastel pink, and Sihtric clenched his jaw, exhaling sharply as he grabbed them out of your hands. You snorted, and to make it worse, the only thing you owned which he would possibly fit in, was a matching sleeveless crop top.

'No,' Sihtric said sternly, looking at the top you held in your hands.

'Guess you're not brave enough for me then,' you taunted.

Sihtric huffed and snatched the shirt out of your hands. You pointed him towards your bathroom, where he stayed for quite a while, simply admiring every foreign object before he even thought of changing clothes. And when he finally walked out, you thought you were going to pass out again.

He had untangled his previously braided hair, wearing it down now, which you loved so much, all while wearing that sleeveless crop top, which barely covered half of his insanely toned upper body. And the matching sweatpants hung on his hips, low enough to reveal he wasn't wearing any underwear, which made sense, as you had no underwear that would possibly fit him. 

He raked his fingers through his hair, exposing even more of his trained torso when he did, and every single filthy thought you ever had about that man crossed your mind at once. You desperately tried to shake your thoughts and took him back into your living room, where you sat down and simply talked. He wanted to know all about you, and even though he didn't understand a lot of the things you mentioned, he knew he was going to marry you. Somehow.

Later you made him dinner and as promised, Sihtric slept on the couch. And you had to fight the desperate urge to find him in the night and lure him into your bed, which Sihtric would have gladly allowed to happen.

A few days passed and Sihtric seemed to adapt decently. He was not as dumb as Uhtred and Finan always made him seem, but he was definitely as clumsy as expected. Knocking over drinks, breaking small objects which he wanted to look at but his hands were too rough, things like that. But you couldn't give a shit, you were madly in love with him, and you couldn't wait for him to break you-... your bed.

Sihtric was very flirty too, and loved brushing his fingers over your face, arms, or well, anywhere he could really, whenever he could. But he was also a true gentleman, and slept on your couch each night, for nearly a week. 

One evening he asked if he could see one of those Last Kingdom episodes you had talked about, and you agreed.

It was still unreal to watch an episode with the one and only Sihtric Kjartansson next to you, and it still felt like a dream. You switched on a random episode, and it happened to be the one where his father, Kjartan, ends up getting killed. At first Sihtric had been watching in awe, amazed that he could relive parts of his life like that.

But when he realised where it was going, his face became more and more deprived of emotions. You noticed it quite late and wanted to switch the tv off once you saw it, just before Kjartan got killed, but Sihtric stopped you by taking your hand in his. And he held your hand tightly as he watched the scene unfold. He showed no emotion, which told you he was more or less at peace with it, but it still was a rough moment to sit through.

When the episode was over, Sihtric looked at you, and you could finally do what you had always wanted to do after seeing Sihtric in that terrible scene; you pulled him in your arms and held him tight.

'Are you okay?' you asked after a moment.

'Yeah,' he said quietly, enjoying the feeling of having his arms around you.

He softly hummed as you brushed your fingers through his long, wavy hair, which was simply another dream come true, and he held you tightly for a long time.

'Can I stay with you?' Sihtric suddenly asked a few evenings later as you had just watched another episode.

'What?' you asked.

'Can I stay here? With you? I mean… I- I like you. I like being here,' he said, 'and, unless we find out how I got here, I have nowhere to go.'

'Y-you want to stay here? With me?' you frowned. 

Sihtric wasn't wrong, he truly had no place to go and you also still had no idea how on earth he had gotten here, which you both quickly stopped questioning as it drove you mad. And naturally you wanted him to stay, but it would be a hard thing to explain to your friends and family, who knew all about your (unhealthy) love for Sihtric, who was, until last week, non-existent in the real world.

'I'd like to stay,' Sihtric smiled sweetly at you, 'with you, lady.'

And you just couldn't resist him anymore. With his long, wavy hair, those mismatched eyes, that smile, and the pink crop top he kept wearing once he realised you liked it on him. He did swap the pastel sweatpants for a black one, after you had bought it for him a few days ago. He was simply the most mesmerising man you had ever seen, and before you knew it, your lips crashed together into a heated kiss. And you tore each other's clothes off as fast as you could. You've been waiting years for this dream to become a reality, and you absolutely would live your fantasy to the fullest right now.

Sihtric seemed just as desperate as you, but before he pulled your panties down, you ran to your bedroom. He was still a medieval man, who knows what he caught in those days and you wanted to limit the risk of catching something as much as you could, and also you did not want a baby, yet, so you grabbed a condom. Sihtric frowned at the package, and you quickly understood he had never seen such a thing. You chuckled a little awkwardly and opened the package.

'It's protection,' you explained, but you didn't want to spook him by talking about STDs, knowing he would probably think it's a curse, so you simply said, 'it's so you don't put a child- I mean, pup in my belly,' you frowned a little as you said the ancient words.

'You do not want my pups?' Sihtric asked, and he almost sounded hurt.

'N… I… well,' you cleared your throat, 'not yet,' you admitted.

Sihtric started to ramble and question you, and you politely asked him to stop talking. You asked if he was okay with everything, to which he then nodded with a smirk, and he allowed you to put the condom on him. And the low hums he let out when you did so, were enough to turn your insides into jelly, and the pressure between your thighs was immense and unbearable. And as you wanted to take your hands off him, he quickly held onto your arm, keeping your hand in place.

'Please,' Sihtric said with big, darkened eyes and a sly smile.

And you understood he seemed to like the feeling of your hand working his length. You had to admit, all those fanfic writers did not lie about his size; you had nothing to complain about here. God, the way you enjoyed having this man on your couch, completely naked, except for the Mjölnir pendant around his neck, with his head thrown back as he smiled while soft moans escaped his slightly parted lips, enjoying the way you made him feel. And it didn't take long before Sihtric came, and the sound of his low groan was pure bliss to your ears, and even more arousing than you already had expected it to be. 

After a short moment, Sihtric was quick to push you up and make you sit back against the couch. He kneeled down in front of you, on the floor, and he carefully spread your legs with a smirk. He threw one leg over his broad shoulder, and before you could grasp that your wildest fantasy was coming true, his face was already buried between your thighs. He nipped your sensitive skin with his lips before he softly kissed your wet folds, followed by running his tongue over your core, making you exhale sharply as your hands found his hair. Your body trembled in no time as he sucked, kissed and licked your clit, as if you were the most delicious thing he had ever tasted in his life. And just like Sihtric, it didn't take long before you came with a desperate moan, pulling his hair to which he groaned.

You both ended up laughing softly as Sihtric sat back next to you, giving you some time to recover, while you both realised how insane this was. But in less than a minute he already took your face in his hands and pulled you closer, wanting to kiss you like there was no tomorrow. And as soon as you felt like you could take him again, you climbed on his lap, to which Sihtric smirked. He watched you with half open eyes as he bit down on his lip. His hands settled on your hips while yours found support by holding onto his muscular shoulders. His body was even more impressive than you imagined, and you cursed Netflix for never giving the audience a shirtless Sihtric scene. 

And then you finally sank down on his cock, you both gasped at the feeling, hands desperately squeezing and scratching each other to display pleasure. And Sihtric was vocal, moaning and cursing with a smile as he enjoyed the way you were riding him, his eyes fixated on you, darting between your eyes, your lips, your breasts and down to your core, loving the view of how you took his length.

'Gods,' he moaned, out of breath, and then he hummed with a light chuckle.

'Fuck,' you muttered under your breath, digging your nails in his shoulders as you tried your hardest to not finish right there and then.

'Hm, I want to fill you up,' Sihtric whispered with ragged breath, and your attempt to not finish before him was to no avail, as his words were enough to make you cry out his name while your walls clenched around his throbbing cock.

'Fuck, sorry,' you said, panting, riding out your own high while feeling a little embarrassed you finished so fast. 

But to your surprise, and pleasure, you felt Sihtric's grip on your hips tighten up and he let out another hard, deep groan as he threw his head back, finishing only moments after you, just as he had hoped he would. You both tried to catch your breath as you embraced each other for a little while. Then you took a shower together and dressed in some comfy clothes. You grabbed a few drinks and some snacks, and made your way into your bedroom, telling Sihtric to come with you. And on your bed, you'd talk and joke around for hours, if you weren't too busy kissing each other or cuddling that is.

'If you had the chance,' you asked, hours later, as Sihtric held you in his arms, 'would you go back home?'

'Only if you'd go back with me,' he said, without any hesitation or doubt, and he squeezed you a little tighter against his chest, 'but if you wish to stay here, then I will stay here, even if I could go back.'

'Why?' you asked, surprised but happy to hear his answer, and you felt a little emotional all of the sudden.

'Because,' Sihtric smiled, moving up a little to look into your eyes, 'because I like you,' he lovingly brushed his fingers over your cheek, 'I have lived my life there, back home,' he said, 'there's not much there for me anymore. I would rather stay here and have you, have someone to take care of and to provide for, then going back without you and just… feel alone again at night.'

'I love you,' you suddenly blurted out.

Sihtric's jaw dropped slightly as he looked at you with big eyes, and then he smiled softly, 'I love you too,' he said, 'and I just want to be wherever you are.'

'Sihtric,' you whispered, cupping his cheeks as you stared into the warrior's vulnerable eyes, 'I will simply follow you anywhere you decide to go.'

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @bel-bottoms @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305

[starry-hughes]

field of daisies

quinn hughes x reader, daisy's au

summary: the relationship between quinn and you after you find out you're pregnant

warnings: pregnancy, slow burn, crying, baby, baby shower, birth, hospital, doctors, hints at shitty parents (y/n's parents!), anxiety

au masterlist

Sitting in a doctor’s office on a Thursday morning is not how you expected things to be going for you. The last month of your life had been a jumble of things. You hardly realized something was up with your body until yesterday. The paper clutched in your hand with test results. You had almost laughed in the face of the nurse practitioner when she asked you if you could possibly be pregnant. “No, I don’t think so.” You had told her. But she still asked for a test just in case. 

“There’s options of course if you would like to explore those,” the doctor’s voice finally flooded your ears. “Thank you,” you abruptly said, grabbing your things and leaving the room. You were going to be sick. A baby? You couldn’t handle this. You weren’t even dating anyone, but you had the craziest idea to keep the baby. Leaving the office, you got to your car before the nerves finally bubbled over, throwing up on the pavement next to your car. 

There was only one thought running through your mind: Quinn. 

Quinn Hughes did not sleep around. It was not in his nature. But he had been so stressed with how the season was going he broke his rule. Finding you across the bar that night. The Canucks season had started horribly. That was the beginning of your relationship if you could even call it that. Quinn would call you anytime he was stressed, which was a lot for someone on a team that was losing almost every game in October. It was one night in particular that you could think this happened. Meeting him at the bar, one or two or five drinks, you couldn’t remember. 

Surely the two of you had been sober enough to remember protection, or you remembered birth control or the morning-after pill. If you asked Quinn what happened that night, he would say that he went home with you and by the next morning, he was watching you collect your clothes from the ground of his bedroom. He never did find the condom wrapper. And you were late to work, not having time to stop by the pharmacy for a Plan B. The night had been forgotten until that moment. 

Since then, you hadn’t seen Quinn. He had gotten too focused on his game. You weren’t exactly sure how to frame the news to him. You couldn’t just text him ‘I’m pregnant’. It didn’t feel right. Part of you wanted to never tell him and pray that you didn’t bump into him on the street with your kid in your arms. But that didn’t feel right either. Driving from the doctor’s office straight to his apartment, you didn’t even know if the security guard would let you in. Quinn played professional hockey, they weren’t just going to let some random girl into his apartment. 

Halfway through your argument with the security guard, claiming you knew Quinn, he walked into the lobby. Eyebrows furrowed together, “(Y/N).” You were right, his apartment security guard did not let you pass the lobby, ignoring your argument that you knew Quinn Hughes. Quinn was returning home from practice and saw you there. 

You thought that when you broke the news to Quinn, he would accuse you of lying or force a paternity test. “You sure?” he gulped after what seemed like forever. “Doctor confirmed it an hour ago. Listen, I’m going to keep the baby. If you want to be in my life and theirs, you can, but I’m not expecting money or anything if you don’t want to be. Your name won’t even have to be on the birth certificate,” you rambled. 

“Can I just have a little to think?” he stuttered. You had never felt more alone than in the time Quinn took to think. It was a total of three days before you got a text from him, saying that he wanted to help you raise his kid. “We need to discuss things,” he started after meeting you for coffee. He looked like he hadn’t slept in three days. He also made sure you were not drinking coffee, saying that he learned that you could only have decaf when pregnant. “I was thinking that you should move in with me. I have the space. Two extra rooms, one for you and one for the baby. Financial support and whatever you need. Co-parents.” 

You were hesitant at first, but you soon found yourself breaking your lease and moving in with Quinn Hughes. It was weird. Quinn and you barely knew one another on a personal level, but now you were living together, and there was a baby growing that was the product of the two of you. “Are we telling anyone?” you blurted from the couch before Quinn left for a road trip. “We probably should.” 

Quinn had called his parents that night when he got to his hotel room. It was not a fun phone call. Scolding and questioning that was borderline an interrogation. He had never felt like he had disappointed his parents as much as he did at that moment. Your phone call with your family was worse, basically being disowned. 

You weren’t sure if it was pregnancy hormones or what but you were calling Quinn that night in tears. “My parents just disowned me I think,” you sniffled over the phone. He felt bad, “Do you need me to come home? I can take a personal leave.” You shook your head, “No, I just wanted to hear your voice.” 

“Do you want to come home with me for Christmas?” he blurted. 

So you did. You went to Michigan for the holidays. Meeting Quinn’s family was nerve-wracking. Luckily, his brothers, Jack and Luke, were there to break the tension. “At least he’s the oldest one of us, Mom. It could have been Luke,” Jack grinned. 

Quinn and you had a serious sit-down conversation with his parents. When you were asked about your support system, you simply looked away before Quinn spoke up again, “I’m her support system, Mom.”

-

Whenever Quinn was home from games, you were scheduling doctor’s appointments. He shyly knocked on your bedroom door one afternoon. He was returning from practice, a piece of paper in his hands. “I, uh, I asked some of the guys on the team for doctor suggestions. The wives gave me a bunch of different names of midwives and doulas. My mom also sent over some tea for the morning sickness,” Quinn stuttered. The two of you stayed in your room for hours, laughing as you two finally got to know one another. A sense of comfort fell over you. 

The first doctor’s appointment Quinn got to attend was something you’d never forget. He had missed the first appointment where you got to hear the heartbeat. Quinn swore he would never hear such a beautiful sound as he did that day, hearing the heartbeat for the first time. The ultrasound technician looked at Quinn and you, a small chuckle leaving her lips as Quinn tried to hide his tears. “Are you two wanting to know if it’s a baby girl or boy?” 

The extra room in Quinn’s apartment used to be his area to work out at home. Now it is painted a soft yellow color. Elias and Brock had come over to help paint as Quinn and you put together the crib. Your baby bump was growing each day, and Quinn was struggling not to kiss you every time he saw you. “Do you want her letters up on this wall or the other?” Brock asked, holding up the wooden letters that spelled out the name you had picked out. “Above the changing table,” you stated. “You heard the woman,” Quinn smiled at you. “I don’t know which one the changing table is,” Elias mumbled. 

-

The wives of the players on the Canucks were begging to throw you a baby shower. You were fine with the idea until it actually started. People were in the apartment everywhere, and you felt trapped. It had been decided that the guys would be able to attend the baby shower. “Bathroom break,” you smiled sweetly at Natalie Miller, handing her your cup of water. Quinn had been talking to Podz and Andrei when he saw you walking off. 

The nursery was silent when you stepped in. A soft knock came on the door, and Quinn entered. “You okay?” he asked. “I’m overwhelmed,” you admitted on the verge of tears. “I can tell everyone to go,” Quinn frowned, “I don’t want you and Daisy upset.” Daisy. That was the name the two of you had picked out. “I just needed a breather.” 

Quinn stayed with you until you were ready to rejoin the party. “Quinn, can you maybe just hold my hand for the rest of the party?” you asked, barely above a whisper. He nodded, holding his hand out for you to take. Your hands stayed intertwined for the rest of the party. 

-

By month six of your pregnancy, there was no longer awkwardness between Quinn and you. It was late April, and the Canucks were done for the season. Usually, Quinn would return home to Michigan for the summer, but with you pregnant, it was decided for him to stay with you in Vancouver. Quinn had learned a lot about you since you moved in. He had seen you at your worse, puking over the toilet or crying because you had to buy new clothes. You had learned about his family and his quirks. 

The two of you were sitting on the couch, talking about the baby and the upcoming months. “Quinn!” you shouted in the middle of his sentence, sitting up. He panicked, sitting up and asking what was wrong. “She kicked! I swore I felt it!” you said excitedly. Quinn waited for a soft nod from you before he reached out his hand to place it on your baby bump. Once his hand relaxed against your bump, he waited for a minute or two. The smallest movement happened, making both of you smile and laugh. “That’s our baby,” Quinn mumbled. 

The romantic relationship between the two of you had only grown over your pregnancy. It was confusing for both of you. Almost kissing in the kitchen but sleeping in separate rooms. Quinn was asleep when you padded into his room. “Quinn? Can I sleep with you? My body pillow isn’t helping tonight,” you whined out tiredly. Quinn nodded, moving over in his bed. You climbed in, immediately clinging to him. He didn’t realize that you were basically going to use him as a body pillow, your arms circling his neck as you finally found comfort. He wasn’t comfortable at all, but he was just happy that you were asleep. 

A couple of weeks later, you were getting to the point where you couldn’t put your shoes on by yourself. You walked across the living room to Quinn, who was playing video games on the couch. “Your daughter is making me pee every ten minutes.” A smile broke out on his face, “Oh? Now she’s just my daughter?” 

You groaned at his comment, walking off to the kitchen for a snack. “It takes two to make a baby sweetheart!” He called after you. 

-

Quinn brushed his hand through the hair sticking to your forehead. You had been in bed with Quinn again, using the excuse of needing comfort, when your water broke. “Sweetheart,” Quinn cooed softly. Quinn had gotten you to move to the couch before you plopped onto the couch in tears. “We have to get to the hospital soon,” he said. The baby bag was already in his hands. 

“I’m scared Quinn.” 

Your voice wobbled as you looked at Quinn through tears. “I know,” he kneeled in front of you, “I’m terrified too. But I promise I won’t let anything happen to either of you. You’re going to be an amazing mother. You did all those parenting classes and read all the books. Daisy is going to be so loved.” 

You nodded along with his words, and Quinn was able to get you to the car. “Did you remember my slippers?” You mumbled as he drove. “Yes, they’re in the bag, along with all the bottles, outfits, rags, blankets, pacifiers, and gloves. Everything is there.” 

It was a tiring couple of hours, but it was all worth it as your daughter was placed on your chest, wailing out. Quinn was wiping away the tear on your cheek as he cried too. “She’s beautiful,” you cried out to Quinn. “She is.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “I love you, Quinn.” 

He didn’t know if it was the medication or the adrenaline that made you say that, but he didn’t care. “I love you too.” 

A couple of days later, the two of you were returning home, a newborn baby girl in your arms. “Welcome home, Daisy,” Quinn whispered as the two of you sat on the couch, “you’re so loved.”

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Solitary Man: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Summary: You're feeling more like yourself for the first time in forever. You're not going to let anything spoil your good mood.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

Nancy's abduction hit the news pretty quickly. You just hope the unsub doesn't see it and dump Nancy's body out of fear. Penelope has been all over the HSK database and connected four more victims to the unsub. That brings his count to ten. If your team can figure out why he's choosing his victims, you'll find him easily.

After bringing Courtney to the police station, your team works on putting every victim's name and picture on the bulletin board. He started killing months before you thought he started. His first victim was a woman named Erika Joy from Lexington, South Carolina. She disappeared from a truck stop. According to her rap sheet, she did everyone she could for a living--a lot lizard. The other victims were waitresses, gas station employees, and even a female trucker. The only one who was married is Nancy even though she is recently a widow.

Nancy has been given the most amount of time in the news than the other women. She doesn't fit the unsub's MO. He had to have a reason for taking someone so far from the spectrum of the other victims.

"He had to have walked right by that minivan. Why didn't he take Courtney?" Emily asks.

"Maybe she's too young."

"She's closer to the victims' ages than her mother. That parking lot was deserted. He could have taken Courtney and nobody would have seen a thing. Instead, he walks past her."

"That's not who he wants. He watched Nancy. He followed her because he wanted her."

"So much so that he left Courtney as a witness? What could be that important?"

"You have your thinking face on," Derek says to you. "What's your theory?"

"What if he took Nancy because she is a mother? When I saw Tanya's body on the side of the road, she was in the fetal position. She looked like she was sleeping. That's exactly how a parent would care for their child. The other victims weren't mothers, Nancy is. Maybe this unsub is looking for someone to be a mother for a child, maybe his own?"

"It's a good theory. Tell that to Hotch."

You're about to when you notice Hotch and Rossi walk into the room.

"I heard," Hotch says. "It's good to have you back."

You can't help but smile at the small accomplishment.

"Nancy's been missing over twelve hours," JJ informs the team. "If he jumped on the I-40 before we got the police blocks out, he could be three states over by now."

"We don't think he has time for that. He's courting these women. He needs them in Edgewood."

"There are over eight hundred truckers on this list," Hotch sighs and looks at the list Penelope sent over. "We have to get Garcia to run background on all of them."

"Listen, I've already given you a list of all the trucker stops that we've checked in town," the sheriff says.

"We're gonna need to check them again."

Derek and Rossi head out to a truck stop to ask about truckers to try and narrow down the list, and they manage to get the manifest of the truckers who visited the stop. They come up with seventy-six truckers who are independent with Penelope's help. If this man is killing women and driving cross country with them, he has to be independent.

"Alright, so let's go over this again," Derek says after he and Rossi return. "This offender is preferential to young women mid to late twenties. He takes his time watching them. He makes sure there are no witnesses. He kills them twelve to twenty-four hours after abduction."

"Only now that timeframe's getting shorter."

"Then he comes home to Edgewood where he's home and he feels safe. There's no rape involved. So, is it the companionship he's after?"

"I really think he's looking for someone who will mother a child," you say. "Whether or not that's his own, I don't know."

"How do you figure?" JJ asks.

"Based on the way he positions the bodies once he dumps them. If he's not looking for a mom, he's definitely looking for a wife. He starts out with easy targets, then he moves on to women who could actually fill the role--sweet, outgoing, and warm."

"No, I think you're on the right track of it being a mother," Hotch says. "If he's got a kid of his own, that would explain what keeps him coming back to Edgewood. It would explain why he walks past Courtney to get to Nancy. Just by watching he knows she's a mother. She's already qualified to pass any test." He dials Penelope on the desk phone. "Garcia, I want you to narrow down the own authority trucker list and tell me which ones have been through a divorce or a custody battle recently."

"The custody fight would be a stressor. Limit your searches to months prior to the first murder," Rossi asks.

"Got it. Thanks."

"He might be sick. Maybe that's why he's trying so hard to find a mom for his child. He doesn't want her alone," you say.

"Cross-reference for men who have medical problems."

"Sure."

When the news of another body comes through, Courtney is in tears thinking it's her mother. After Rossi checks and confirms it's not Nancy, Courtney breaks down in tears this time, in relief. You're in the conference room with Hotch, Derek, and Spencer but looking at Courtney with Emily. You want to cry alongside Courtney not because you have unspoken trauma but because you feel and recognize her pain. The realization that you're not using her fear to fuel your own makes you want to cry. Are you finally free from prison?

"Hey, baby girl, talk to me," Derek says when Penelope calls.

"Of your seventy-six independent truckers, I have twenty-eight who are currently involved in custody cases."

"How many of those cases are still open?"

"Eight. Not the most relationship-friendly job, trucking."

"Look for instances where the mother died. A guy like this wouldn't tear a child away from his own mother."

"Okay, Caroline Hatchett died in a house fire, leaving behind seven-year-old daughter Jody and husband Wade Hatchett. Wade lost his home, his wife, and custody of his daughter when the courts deemed him unfit. He's still contesting the case."

"Why was he deemed unfit?" you ask.

"Double whammy... His job kept him away for weeks at a time, and he didn't have any other family to help him watch his daughter. It looks like he bent over backward trying to make it work, but she missed a lot of school, and he was charged with neglect of a minor."

"Do you have an address?"

"There is none. He's had a PO box for over a year."

"What about the daughter?"

"Jody currently resides in foster care. I'm sending you the file now."

Wade didn't bother posing the most recent victim and it was more brutal than the other ones which means it's more personal. Her name is Lynn Clemons, the foster mother of Jody Hatchett. She's in the process of being adopted so he must have run out of time if he killed her foster parent.

If you're going to get Wade, you have to get to Jody before he does. Your team heads over there just as she gets home from school.

"Hey, Jody," you smile.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Y/N."

"Where's Mrs. Clemons?"

"I'll tell you inside, okay? Come on." You bring her inside where the rest of your team is waiting for her. "It's okay, we're here to help."

"What's going on?"

"We're helping the police, and we're trying to find your dad. Do you know where he is?"

"No."

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you walk to the window facing the front yard. You pull back the curtain and see a semi-truck parked across the street. Nancy is sitting behind the wheel with a terrified look on her face. You can see a gun poking out from the sleeper which is why she's so terrified.

"He's here," you say and look at Hotch. Emily makes an excuse that she's thirsty so Jody takes her to the kitchen to grab something to drink. "Hotch, I think it's a good idea to let Jody talk to him. She might be able to get him to release Nancy without hurting her. We can tap into the CB radio. They all use the same channel."

Hotch agrees and sets up the entire line of communication. You bring Jody to the couch so she can talk to her dad using the radio. You don't want her to see him just yet.

"Here you go, sweetheart." You hand her the handheld radio. Your dad's out there. Listen, we need you to get your dad to let that woman go. Do you understand?"

"Yeah." She puts the radio to her mouth. "Daddy? Daddy, are you there?"

His head pops out from behind the dark curtain and looks at the house.

"Hi, baby."

"You need to tell me the rest of the story."

"Well, the lonely king and the queen are at the castle."

He's talking about himself and Nancy. Maybe he was lonely this entire time.

"To pick up the princess?" she smiles.

Herself.

"Well, the guards are in the way."

You and your team are the guards.

"Will you let the queen talk to them?"

"They won't listen."

"I want to see her. Will you let her go so she can hold me? You said that she's perfect, that she's the one. She wants to live in the big castle with me."

"I need to see you."

Hotch nods to you so you bring Jody to the window. Derek opens the curtains so he can see his daughter.

"Hi, Daddy!" she smiles and looks at Nancy.

"Hi, princess."

"She's so pretty, Daddy!" Wade knows there is no getting out of this and he isn't about to make a scene in front of his daughter. He says something to Nancy and she wretches the front door open. She runs out of the truck and toward the house. Derek meets her outside and brings her inside so she's away from Wade and his gun. "Now the king won't be lonely anymore."

"No, and they're gonna live happily ever after."

"Why aren't you coming, too, Daddy?"

"You did a great job, Jody," you whisper to her.

"Are you going to the better place?"

"What?" Your eyes widen.

"Yeah. We're both going to a better place, princess. Close your little eyes, sweet pea."

Derek runs out of the house toward the semi knowing what Wade is going to do to himself. You grab Jody and immediately turn her into you so she doesn't see her dad shooting himself. Derek doesn't make it and Wade is dead. Nancy is going to be okay and that's the most important thing even though it breaks your heart a bit to know that Jody won't have her father anymore.

Once you're back in Virginia, your parents agreed to come down and hang with you, JJ, Emily, and Penelope. JJ couldn't get a babysitter so she brought Henry with her. None of the girls are able to stay long but you wanted them to meet your parents, at least.

"Thanks for coming with me. I know you can't stay long but I wanted you to meet my parents. I hope you like them. Spencer doesn't. It's why he's not here. That and my dad seems to hate him."

"I'm sure they're wonderful," JJ smiles.

"Y/N!"

You turn to your parents who are outside the restaurant they reserved. The girls won't be joining you but you'd love to have dinner with your parents. Penelope and Emily stiffen up when they see your dad. You feel their hesitation from behind you which is weird because everyone loves your parents. Spencer would if your dad treated him right.

"Dad! Mom! I'd like you to meet some of my friends. JJ, Emily, and Penelope, I'd like you to meet my parents Joey and Julie."

"Hi, it's nice to meet you," JJ says with a tight-lipped smile.

Your mom leans closer to JJ and sees her son looking up at her with curious eyes. She coos and leans in even closer, causing JJ to shuffle backward uncomfortably.

"Oh, is he your son?" your mom gasps.

"Yeah, his name is Henry. My boyfriend is at work and couldn't watch him."

You're not sure why but you're getting waves of uncomfortableness and uneasiness.

"May I hold him?" she asks.

"You know what, it's past his bedtime. I should get going. It was nice to meet you," JJ chuckles.

That was a fake chuckle and you frown at her.

"Yeah, you know what, I have to go. I promised Emily I'd help her with her dating profile."

That was a lie. What is going on? You're not going to put them on the spot by calling them out. You'll talk to them tomorrow about it.

"Oh, okay. It's nice to meet you, all," your dad smiles.

All three girls part from the group leaving you alone with your parents. Your dad slings an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to him. He kisses the top of your head affectionately with a smile.

"I'm glad you're here with us."

If he's so glad, why do you feel anger coming off him in waves?

"The family is a haven in a heartless world." - Christopher Lasch

x

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[oskea93]

✦ It Had to be You: Three (part one) ✦

John “Bucky” Egan x OC Gale “Buck Cleven x OC

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and not associated with the real people mentioned from the show. This is simply based on the portrayals of the actors playing these characters. ⚠️ Warning for this chapter: Cursing, mention of death, suicidal ideations, drunkenness. ⭐️ Taglist: @alanadetigy

● If you would like to be tagged, just comment below ●

I visited Gale’s grave every day for a month straight. I guess wishfully thinking that he would rise from the grave like Lazarus – taking me back in his arms and whispering that it was only a dream. The winter haze was starting to turn warmer – a clear sign that spring was on the horizon. Springtime was Gale’s favorite – just sitting on the porch – plowing the garden that he swore would turn out 50 pounders. I could still see him sitting atop the tractor he was so proud of – buying it from an old timer at the local auction for ten dollars and a gold pocket watch.

He was able to work one full season in that garden before he went off to join the war effort. He promised that as soon as he returned, he would have me out there helping, learning the tricks and trades of being a farmer’s wife. We both knew deep down that would never happen – my hands never meeting the touch of dirt in my 22 years of life. I wanted it to happen though. I wanted to break out of the debutante shell – learn to be self-sufficient and not have to rely on my husband to do everything. Gale was the one that was gonna show me the new world I craved – the new world I needed to survive.  

“Figured I’d find you here.”

I rolled my eyes as John made his way over to where I sat, his presence being one that I could live without. Even after the little incident of me throwing his belongings off the deck, he still stuck around. He had set up house in the dilapidated barn that Gale planned to fix up. If it was anyone other than John Egan, I would have insisted they stay in the comfort of the house, but he deserved the cold rain to fall on him during the night.

He took a seat on the grass next to me, his hand touching the mound of dirt that was still settling on Gale’s grave. His throat clearing as his emotions began to get the best of him.

“Your mother called – wanted to make sure you’re doing okay.” My gaze steadied on the plaque in front of me. “Told her that you were out here.”

“I don’t need you talking to my mother for me.”

An exasperated sigh slipped past his lips as the air around us became tense, “You know I’m just trying to help, right?” His eyes setting on my side profile as my eyes stayed glued on Gale’s grave. “If it wasn’t me here –“He paused for a moment. “You’d be in a world of hurt.”

“You wouldn’t have to be here if you were there for Gale when he and the other men jumped over that wall like you told him to do, Major.” Our eyes connecting. “I’d have my husband at my side, but instead I have you.” I hastily removed myself from the ground. “And I have my husband buried six feet in the ground where he’ll stay forever, but I should be so flattered to have the Major John Egan to make sure I’m not in a world of hurt.”

“Carolina-“ He started to speak as he stood.

I raised my hand to stop him, “No-“My tone stern. “I don’t want to hear another word from your sorry mouth, John.” Tears starting to dwell in my eyes. “You can go to the pits of hell and rot for eternity for all I care.”

My feet started to move across the growing grass – signs of life at every turn – except the one I longed for. I was in my own world of hatred that I didn’t even hear John’s heavy footsteps behind me, my body being jerked into his as his fingers wrapped tightly around my arms.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” I fought against his touch. “You’re the one who should’ve died! That bullet was meant for your head – not Gale’s.” My voice screeched with anger and agony.

John's grip tightened momentarily before he released me, the pain in his eyes mirroring my own anguish. "You think I don't know that?” his voice raw and broken. "Do you think I don't live with that every single day?"

I turned away, wiping the tears that had begun to stream down my face. "Knowing it and feeling it are two different things, John. I can't just forgive and forget. Not when my life has been torn apart."

He took a step back, giving me space, his hands falling limply to his sides. "Carolina, I can't change what happened. I can't bring Gale back. But I can be here for you, whether you want me to be or not. I owe him that much."

I scoffed, my heart a storm of emotions. "You owe him more than that. You owe him your life."

For a moment, silence hung between us, heavy and suffocating. The world around us continued to move, indifferent to our pain. I wanted to scream, to make it stop, to rewind time and change everything. But I couldn't. All I had was this reality, this grief, and the man who stood before me, a painful reminder of what I had lost.

“You ruined my life, John. You ruined the life that I was supposed to have with Gale – all the promises and dreams we had. “ I paused. “All that’s gone and now I have nothing to live for.”

“Killing yourself won’t bring him back.” His tone straight forward. “Killing yourself would be the selfish option. Trust me, I’ve thought about it too, but I know Gale wouldn’t want that.”  

My breath hitched as his words cut through the haze of my grief. "Selfish?" I echoed, incredulous. "You think I haven't thought about what Gale would want? He was my husband, John. My everything. I know him better than anyone, and I know he wouldn't want me to be this miserable, but I can't help it. Every day is a struggle just to breathe."

John's face softened; his eyes filled with a sorrow that mirrored my own. "I know, Carolina. I know it's hard. But giving up won't honor his memory. Living, even when it hurts, is the only way to keep his spirit alive."

Tears streamed down my face, and I felt a deep, aching void where my heart used to be. "It's not fair," I whispered, my voice breaking. "We had plans. We were going to start a family, travel the world, grow old together. How am I supposed to do any of that without him?"

He took a cautious step closer, his presence a tentative offer of support. "You don't have to do it alone. There are people who care about you, who want to help you through this. I know I'm the last person you want to hear that from, but it's true."

I shook my head, frustration and despair warring within me. "You don't understand. Every time I look at you, I'm reminded of what I've lost. Of what you took from me."

John's expression tightened with pain, but he didn't back down. "I understand more than you think. I lost a brother that day. Not just a comrade, but someone I cared about deeply. And yes, I was responsible for the mission, but I never wanted this outcome. I never wanted to hurt you."

"You never wanted to hurt me?" I scoffed, a bitter edge to my voice. "You're the one who pressured Gale to go with you to England – writing him letters and painting a picture of how exciting the missions were." Each word dripped with resentment as I laid bare the betrayal that had festered in my heart.

I took a moment to collect my thoughts, the memories of happier times with Gale now tainted by the presence of the Major. "I wish Gale had never met you at that training facility," I continued, my tone laced with regret and anger. "I wish you had never come into our lives, John Egan."

The air fell silent, the weight of my words lingering between us. John's gaze flickered, a shadow of guilt passing over his features before he attempted to muster a response. But no words came, the truth of my accusations hanging heavy in the space between us, a rift that seemed impossible to bridge…

“Okay ladies, so I was thinking that the theme this year be focused around new beginnings. Something pure and wholesome,” Victoria announced, her voice carrying a sense of authority that demanded attention.

The room fell into a hushed silence as the other women seated around the table nodded in agreement. The debutant ball, an annual event that had become a symbol of prestige and philanthropy in the community, was a significant undertaking that required meticulous planning and flawless execution.

Sitting beside me, my mother beamed with pride, her hand resting gently on my leg as if to anchor me in my seat. “Oh Victoria, I think that is a fabulous idea,” she chimed in, her enthusiasm palpable.

I stifled a sigh, accustomed to my mother's unwavering ambition for me to shine at the debutant ball. Ever since I was a young girl, she had envisioned me as the belle of the ball, clad in a perfect white gown, with hair styled to perfection, and a date handpicked from the cream of society.

As I glanced around the room at the other debutantes and their eager mothers, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Many of the young men who had once vied for the chance to escort a debutante to the ball were now mere shadows of their former selves. Some were confined to wheelchairs, their once-vibrant spirits dimmed by tragedy, while others had met untimely ends, their promising futures cut short.

As the planning for the debutant ball continued, I couldn't help but notice the sea of young faces around me, each brimming with anticipation and excitement. Most of the girls who had signed up to participate seemed to view the ball as the pinnacle of their young lives, a chance to be the center of attention and bask in the admiration of others.

However, my own perspective had been irrevocably altered by recent events. The tragic loss of my husband had shattered my illusions of a fairy-tale existence, leaving me adrift in a world that now seemed hollow and insincere.

When Victoria turned to me, her voice cutting through the silence, I felt the weight of everyone's eyes on me. The women around the table, who had initially regarded me with pity and sympathy, now looked at me with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"Do you have any suggestions, Carolina?" Victoria's question hung in the air, waiting for a response.

I hesitated, unsure of how to navigate this unfamiliar terrain. The words felt stuck in my throat, a jumble of conflicting emotions and unspoken truths that I couldn't bring myself to articulate.

"No," I finally managed to say, the word coming out more curtly than I had intended. Victoria shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the tension in the room palpable as the other women exchanged uneasy glances.

As Victoria smoothly transitioned to discussing details with the other women in the room, a sense of relief washed over me, grateful to be momentarily spared from the spotlight. I observed with detached interest as their faces animated with enthusiasm, their voices rising and falling in a symphony of excitement and anticipation.

A pang of disconnection tugged at my heart as I contrasted their genuine enthusiasm with the emptiness I felt inside. The prospect of being paraded around like a prized possession at the debutant ball held no allure for me, a stark reminder of the superficiality and pretense that permeated this world of opulence and privilege.

"Darling, you're bringing everyone's mood down," my mother's gentle voice whispered in my ear, breaking through my reverie. I turned to meet her gaze, seeing a mixture of concern and expectation in her eyes.

"This is a joyous occasion. Will you please try to smile or look somewhat happy to be here?" she implored, her hand reaching out to touch mine in a gesture of reassurance.

I forced a tight-lipped smile, the muscles in my face aching from the effort. “Happy?” My voice tinged with bitterness, causing her to frown in disapproval.

She straightened in her chair, the delicate China teacup clutched in her hands as she met my gaze with a mixture of concern and determination. "Carolina, it's been almost two months," she began, her tone gentle but resolute. My head snapped in her direction, a flicker of defiance igniting within me as I anticipated the direction of her words.

"It's time to get on with the grief and start living your life again – be the old Carolina Clevens – the happy girl we all knew and loved," she urged, her words laced with expectation and a hint of impatience.

The weight of her words settled over me like a heavy shroud, pressing down on me with a force that was almost suffocating. The idea of returning to the person I used to be, of donning the mask of cheerfulness and ease that I had worn before my world was shattered, felt like an impossible task.

"Oh, I'm sorry, mother," I blurted out, my body turning towards her in haste. The words spilled out before I could stop them. "I didn't realize that grieving over my dead husband was only allowed for a certain time, and then it was time to act like he's not at the bottom of a hole turned into worm food." The ladies seated at our table glanced over with curiosity, their whispered conversations coming to a sudden halt.

My mother's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing as she processed my words. The tension in the air was palpable, and I could feel the weight of her unspoken disapproval. But I couldn't hold back the flood of emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface since my husband's passing.

"I guess when daddy dies, you'll get a day or two to grieve, and then I'll let you know when it's time to go back to your self-centered self," I continued, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and sadness. The words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and a lifetime of unspoken grievances.

The tension in the room was palpable as the gazes of the guests shifted between my mother and me. I could feel their eyes boring into me, their expressions a mix of surprise and discomfort at the sudden outburst. My mother's attempt at a smile seemed strained, a fragile façade barely concealing the turmoil beneath the surface.

“Fuck this.” I stumbled away from the table, my heart pounding in my chest. The room seemed to blur around me as I made my way towards the door, my mother's voice calling out my name like a distant echo in the chaos of my thoughts.

As the pricking feeling of tears threatened to overflow, I clenched my jaw, refusing to let them fall. I was tired of crying, tired of the pain that seemed to follow me wherever I went. With each step I took on the quiet street, I felt a sense of calm wash over me, the cool night air soothing my frayed nerves.

I slowed my pace, wanting to blend into the shadows, not wanting any more attention drawn to me. The streetlights cast a soft glow on the pavement, guiding my way as I navigated the unfamiliar paths. I didn't know where I was going, but one thing was clear – I didn't want my mother to find me.

I managed to dip into a hole in the wall bar – the patrons looking a bit shocked when I stepped through the doors. I wasn’t really a drinker – only partaking once in a blue moon – nothing to hard of course. I hesitantly took a seat at the bar, my white gloves causing those at the bar to look at me as if I was lost. I quickly removed the garments, stuffing them into my purse.

The older bartender gave me a reassuring smile as he placed a small napkin in front of me. “What can I get ya, miss?”

I hesitated, my mind racing as I tried to decide. Looking around, I noticed most of the patrons were nursing glasses filled with a rich, amber liquid. I pointed to one of the glasses at the end of the bar. “I’ll have whatever that is.”

The bartender followed my gaze and nodded, a knowing twinkle in his eye. "Whiskey it is," he said, reaching for a bottle on the top shelf. As he poured the drink, I took in my surroundings, the low murmur of conversations blending with the soft clinks of glasses and the faint strains of a jukebox in the corner.

He placed the glass in front of me with a gentle thud. "Here you go. Enjoy," he said, giving me an encouraging nod.

I wrapped my fingers around the cool glass, feeling the slight chill against my skin. Bringing it to my lips, I inhaled the strong, smoky aroma before taking a small sip. The liquid burned slightly as it went down, causing me to start coughing.

The bartender watched me for a moment, then leaned in slightly. "First time with whiskey?" he asked, his tone friendly and curious.

I nodded, setting the glass back on the bar. "Yeah, something like that."

He chuckled softly. "Well, it's an acquired taste for some, but it grows on you. Rough day?"

I sighed, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over me. "You could say that."

He gave me a sympathetic look. "Well, you're in good company. This place has seen its share of weary souls. If you need anything, just holler."

I offered a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

As he moved on to attend to another customer, I took another sip of the whiskey, letting the warmth and the quiet ambiance of the bar start to work their magic. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a hint of relaxation begin to creep in…

“And then she starts saying that I need to stop crying over my dead husband—” I paused, taking a sloppy drink. “Who says something like that, especially to your goddamn daughter?” My words slurred together, the numerous glasses of whiskey casting a heavy fog over my mind.

The bartender, who had been listening patiently as he wiped down the counter, gave me a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry to hear that, miss. Some people just don't understand grief," he said gently, his voice a steady anchor in my storm of emotions.

“And then I got his friend, his co-pilot, the man responsible for sending Gale to his death, staying at my fucking house. Living out of the barn because I’m not gonna let that son of a bitch into my house—” My face twisted as the brown liquid burned its way down my throat. “And to think I liked that man—thought he was a good influence on my husband. John Egan is nothing but a snake in the grass. If he were to drop dead tonight, I wouldn’t even bury his body—I’d just let the buzzards pick away at him until his bones are dust.”

The bartender's eyes widened slightly, but he maintained his calm demeanor. He leaned in a bit closer, his voice low and soothing. "That's a lot to carry, miss.”

I slammed the glass down on the counter, the sound echoing through the bar. "You have no idea. Every time I see him, it's like a knife twisting in my gut. Gale trusted him and look where that got him."

The bartender stayed silent for a moment, then spoke carefully. "Now don’t take this the wrong way, miss, but it sounds like your husband’s friend was only doing what he thought was best."

I felt my eyes narrow as his words moved around my hazy brain, trying to find purchase. "What are you saying?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

He held up a hand in a placating gesture. "Just hear me out. This John guy didn’t know that those Nazi pricks would shoot at your husband. You can’t place the blame on him. I’m sure the poor bastard is already blaming himself."

I stared at him, the anger bubbling up mixed with confusion and sorrow. "You think I should forgive him? After everything?"

The bartender shook his head slowly. "That’s a choose you’re gonna have to make on your own, sweetheart.

Instead of accepting his words like an adult, the whiskey took over instead. "Typical man," I muttered, the raspberries of disdain blowing from my lips. "Just like a man to take up for another man."

I downed what was left of my drink in one swift motion, the alcohol numbing the edges of my frayed emotions. The room seemed to spin around me as I clumsily pushed myself off the barstool, my movements unsteady and erratic.

"You don’t know anything!" I shouted, my voice rising above the din of the bar. "You're all a bunch of drunkards with no hope or future." The words spilled out of me like a torrent, fueled by a cocktail of frustration, bitterness, and a tinge of self-loathing.

Those that were left in the bar looked at me with empty eyes – not shocked by my appearance or attitude. Their gazes seemed to bore into me, indifferent to my outburst amidst the usual chaos of the night. "Gale Cleven was the best man that God ever created!" I proclaimed, my voice piercing through the haze of smoke and chatter, higher than the music playing in the background.

"Better than you," I declared, my finger pointing accusingly in the patrons' directions. "And you. And you too!" Each word was a dagger, fueled by a mix of defiance and desperation, cutting through the thick air of the bar like a blade.

The slamming of the front door snapped me out of my little tantrum as all eyes in the bar shifted towards the man who caused the ruckus. He stood there at the entrance, a lone figure in the dimly lit room, clad in his worn leather bomber jacket. His hands were stuffed in his trouser pockets, his stance exuding a quiet confidence that demanded attention. The sudden hush that fell over the bar was almost palpable, as if the very air held its breath in anticipation of what would come next.

"For fuck’s sake," I muttered under my breath, a heavy sigh slipping through my lips as I raked my hand through my messy curls.

I watched through hooded eyes as John stepped up to the bar. Our gazes met in a brief but charged moment, a silent exchange passing between us like a current.

As he ordered himself a glass of whiskey, the tension that surrounded just us seemed to thicken, palpable to those around us. The bartender, a silent observer to the unfolding drama, looked back and forth between us, piecing together that this was the man I had been rambling about just moments ago.

[wordsbyrian]

Polyglot - USWNT x Reader

Summary: After one odd interview, Kelley, Sonny, and some others stop at nothing to figure out what Y/N has been (not) hiding.

A/N: I’ve been lurking for a while and finally decided to post something. Hope you enjoy it.

It's not unusual for you to find yourself in situations where the team has just found out something about you and then they proceed to act like you had been hiding it from them.

In fact, that is the exact situation you find yourself in right now, the whole team staring at you as walk into the locker room after you finish a post-game interview with a Spanish-speaking outlet.

"Why didn't you tell us that you could speak Spanish," Kelley asks the moment the locker room door closes behind you.

"You didn't ask. Besides, it's not like it's a secret, Ashley and Sophia have known for a while now."

Kelley's head immediately turns to stare at the two women across the locker room, who are just trying to mind their own business.

"You guys knew and didn't say anything," she whines, beginning to stomp her way across the space.

Before she can reach them though, Alex calmly blocks her path and leads Kelley to her own locker, whispering in hushed tones, presumably something about leaving you guys alone so everyone can get back to the hotel.

You think it works because she doesn't bring it up again until dinner later that night.

"So are you going to tell me why none of you ever mentioned that the baby can speak Spanish," she asks, plopping into a seat directly in front of the three of you, Sonnett taking the seat immediately to her left.

At the same time that you mumble about not being a baby, Ashley answers her.

"Once again, no one was hiding it. In fact, we thought that you all knew already, she's been on the team for like two years."

"Of course we didn't know," Sonnett says, "The only times we've ever seen her sit still for more than five minutes, she was asleep!"

"You're one to talk," you say, "The first time I met you, you were wrestling Kelley and Rose in the hotel lobby."

"Whatever, that doesn't explain how you know Spanish," she snarks.

"If you must know, my childhood babysitter didn't speak much English and I spent six days a week with her from the ages of one to 12. Also, I'm not sure if you remember this but I've been living in Barcelona for almost four years."

"Wait, so when did you learn English?"

Kelley mirrors the confused look on Sonnett's face and much to your surprise a few others sat close enough to hear the conversation.

"At the same time," you say, finally looking at them. "It's called simultaneous bilingualism and it's actually really prevalent. It's estimated that half of the world is functionally bilingual and that a majority of that number consider themselves to be native speakers of two languages."

"Sonny, I think the baby just called us stupid," Kelley says, shellshocked.

"She did," Ashley and Sophia speak at the same time and you watch as both Kelley and Sonnett deflate at the plain way they say it.

You thought that was the end of the entire situation until during the next camp a video surfaced online of you speaking French with the media after Barcelona's loss to Lyon in the Champions League final last season.

You had been tagged in the clip what felt like a million times, so it's not surprising that Kelley and Sonentt managed to get their hands on it.

This is how you found yourself hiding in Alex and Kelley's hotel room playing with Charlie, it was the last place the Frat Daddies would think to check. Hopefully, they wouldn't think of it until it's time to leave for the weightlifting session.

"Do you really think that you can avoid them forever," Alex asks, watching as you catch Charlie when she flings her little body off the bed at you.

"No, but I only need to avoid them until we get on the bus because then they'll have to deal with Christen and Sanchez when they try to mess with me."

"If you say so."

"I do."

You're right for the most part, the only time it falters is when Kelley comes back to grab her things before training. That results in the team being treated to the sight of her chasing you down the hallway with Charlie thrown over your shoulder and Alex yelling behind you about making sure not to drop her child.

Outside of that though, it goes off without a hitch with both your best friend and your team mom taking turns glaring at Kelley and Sonnett when they attempt to bother you.

That might be why it's so surprising when Lindsey is the one who brings it up during movie night as you wait for Sam and Kristie to finish arguing about what movie to watch.

"Y/N, truth or dare?"

"Uh, truth," you answer, not bothering to lift your head from its place smushed into a pillow. You’re comfortably lying between Christen and Tobin, with Mal sprawled over the three of you and moving would definitely ruin that.

"How many languages are you fluent in," she asks.

"Fluency is an arbitrary scale that varies from person to person," is the answer you give, even though you know it won't be enough for them to leave you alone.

“For the love of god, would you please just answer the question so they stop bothering both you and me,” Sanchez groans from her place on the other bed.

“Fine. I speak and read English, Spanish and French. I can read German,” you say, struggling to sit up from under Mal’s body weight. “I can only flirt in Dutch but I’m working on learning to read it. Also, Rolfö is teaching me Swedish.”

The line about flirting earns you multiple pinches from the women in the bed with you, but for the most part, everyone is stunned into silence.

The first person to make any sound is Sophia laughing so hard that she can barely get out her words, “Of course, Y/N/N is learning Dutch to talk to girls, it’s like U17s and U20s all over again.”

While you roll your eyes and wish that the conversation would end there, it doesn’t because Kristie says what everyone is thinking.

“So you, the person who dropped out of high school to play in Spain, speak three languages and are actively learning three more?”

“Yes, but can we stop telling people I dropped out of high school because I didn’t.”

“You being a genius really explains why your people skills are so severely lacking with anyone who doesn’t play soccer,” Lindsey says, ignoring you.

“All in favor of changing the baby’s nickname from ‘the baby’ to ‘baby genius’ raise your hands.” Kelley laughs when she sees you're the only one to keep your hand down. “ Motion passes, Y/N shall henceforth be known as 'Baby Genius'.”

“Don’t call me that, please,” you beg.

“Sorry Baby Genius, I’ve already changed your name in the group chat.” Her statement is backed up by the synchronized vibrating of everyone’s phones.

All you can do is let out another groan and sink back into the bed while everyone laughs.

But the night goes on and the subject ends up being dropped permanently. At least that’s what you think until somehow you find yourself, alongside Mal, being called over to do a post-game interview with ESPN at the end of the game later that week.

Most of the questions are directed at her, unsurprisingly, but eventually, the reporter turns her attention to you.

“Y/N, you guys had your hands full defensively tonight and there was even a moment where you had to track back and clear a ball off the goal line after a mishandling by Naeher. What was going through your mind at that moment?”

“Uhm, mostly a lot of inappropriate language but also the fact that I kinda caused Lys to mishandle the ball and it’d really suck if it went in because of my mistake, so I had to make sure that didn’t happen,” you say, wiping some of your sweat away.

“One more question, Y/N,” she says. “Recently, a ton of videos of you speaking both French and Spanish have surfaced online, is this a new development or have you been hiding this talent?”

“I’ve not been hiding it, most of my interviews since going to Barcelona have been in Spanish but no one in America really asks about it. I’ve been speaking both Spanish and French for a long time now, it’s not that impressive,” you say, unsure if the heat in your cheeks is leftover from the game or because of the spotlight you find yourself forced into.

It only gets worse because Mal takes it upon herself to brag on your behalf.

“She’s just being humble, Y/N spends all of her free time studying languages and is working on three others right now.”

The reporter looks shocked, “Is that true?”

“Yeah.”

“A skilled soccer player and a natural born polyglot, you can really do it all. Y/N, Mal thank you for your time.” She turns back to the camera before sending the broadcast back to whoever happens to be in the studio.

As you walk away, Ashley walks over to you, slinging her arm over your shoulder.

“Don’t look so grumpy. We won and now the world knows you’re a genius,” she says.

“She called me a polyglot,” you grumble.

“Ok?”

“I’m not, I only speak three languages.”

Sanchez just sighs and shakes her head, continuing to lead you toward the sidelines where fans are waiting for photos and autographs.

“Don’t worry Baby Genius, we’ll work on your people skills.”