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mariasont · 4 months

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Our Minds Entwined------------------------

ch 1, ch 2, ch 3

Aaron Hotchner x Original Character x Spencer Reid

in which jason gideon's daughter joins the fbi as the newest youngest member

Chapter Two:

Evelyn glided into the BAU office like the first breath of spring, her heels tapping a confident rhythm against the gleaming floor--a drummer setting the beat for a new day. The sun peaked shyly above the horizon, casting a soft glow that seemed to dance with the spark in her eyes. With a tray of meticulously chosen coffee cups cradled in her hands, she was the portrait of preparedness, memorizing everyone's order--or so she thought.

Her arrival was like a ripple in a still pond, drawing the gaze of every agent in the room. They couldn't help but be captivated by the way her hair cascaded in perfect waves, each strand catching the light as if spun from chestnut threads. Her nails, painted a shade of pink, spoke of a meticulous nature, each tip polished to a flawless finish. The air shifted around her, sweetened by the subtle hint of vanilla that trailed in her wake. She moved with a grace that belied the steel in her spine.

"Good morning, everyone!" Evelyn chirps, her voice a cheerful melody that fills the BAU conference room. She flutters to the table, her movements light. "Your caffeine fix, courtesy of the new girl," she announced with a wink, her words wrapped in warmth.

Each cup finds its way into the hands of colleagues, a personal touch from the newest member. Hotchner's eyebrow arches in silent question as he brings the cup to his lips, the familiar comfort of his morning ritual poised at the edge of disruption.

The first sip is a surprise, a cascade of caramel where stark bitterness usually resides. "This is... different," he remarks, the dryness of his tone belting out a hint of amusement that doesn't quite reach his eyes. Yet, in the curve of his mouth, there's a shadow of a smile, a rare crack in the facade of the ever-serious unit chief.

Reid's curiosity piqued as he approached his coffee with caution. The liquid was dark and unadulterated, a stark contrast to the usual sugary coffee. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth, a silent nod to Evelyn's thoughtful gesture. "Actually, this is exactly how I like it," he said, the lie as transparent as glass, accompanied by an awkward sweep of his hand through his hair. "Thank you, Evelyn."

The room fills with soft laughter. It was a rare sound, one that seemed to wrap around the room like a comforting blanket. Rossi, who had just walked in, couldn't but chuckle as he reached for his expresso, served just the way he liked it.

"You'll fit right in, kid," Rossi said, his voice rich with approval as he gave Evelyn a gentle pat on the shoulder.

Evelyn's cheeks flushed with a cocktail of embarrassment and delight, a rosy hue that matched the sunrise peeking through the blinds. "I'll get it right next time, promise," she chirped, her voice a tender mix of hope and humility.

As the room settled into the rhythm of the morning briefing, Evelyn found herself perched next to Reid, her pulse dancing to a nervous beat. "So, I heard you're going to be my mentor," she blurted out, her words tumbling faster than her mind could keep up. "I'm really looking forward to learning from you, Dr. Reid. I mean, your analysis on the last case was just--wow!"

Reid's gaze lingered on her, a silent enigma before his lips curled into a smile that could put the stars to shame. "I'm looking forward to working with you too, Evelyn. And please, call me Spencer."

The name rolled off her tongue, a sweet note in her mouth. "Spencer," she echoed, savoring the familiarity it promised. A shadow of a memory flickered--the bar incident--and her smile wavered, a ripple of uncertainty. Had he heard what she said that night? She prayed not.

The conference room, usually a crucible of tension and intellect, shifted into a training exercise as Hotchner laid out the case before Evelyn. "Evelyn, we have a mock case for you," he declared, his voice a beacon of authority. "We need a profile for a suspect based on the evidence provided. Let's see what you've got."

Evelyn stood, her notes clutched in her hands like a shield, her smile a bright flag of enthusiasm. "Thank you, sir," she said, her voice ringing with the clear tones of determination. "Okay, based on the behavioral patterns and crime scene photos, I'd say our suspect is a male in his late thirties, likely works in a managerial position--someone who's used to being in control."

From the sidelines, Reid observed, his mentor's eyes sharp yet encouraging. As Evelyn unfolded her thoughts, he found himself quietly impressed by the clarity of her intuition and solidity of her logic. She was a natural, her talent shining through like a lighthouse in the fog.

"Also," Evelyn pressed on, her confidence swelling, "he's meticulous, organized. The way the scene is arranged, it's almost ritualistic. This isn't his first rodeo."

Hotchner absorbed her words, his face a mask of neutrality. When she concluded, he gave a slow nod. "Impressive, Evelyn. Very thorough analysis."

Reid leaned in, his gaze locking with Evelyn's. "You're right about the control aspect," he offered softly, his voice a harmonious contrast to Hotchner's commanding tone. "But consider this--the suspect might also crave recognition. The 'ritualistic' aspect could be a signature, a way to stand out."

Evelyn's eyes stayed on Reid; her respect evident. "That's a really good point, thank you, Dr. Reid--Spencer," she corrected, a blush coloring her cheeks.

A hush fell over the room, all eyes drawn to the pair. Then, like a burst of sunlight through clouds, Garcia tumbled into the room, her arms laden with case files and her attire a splash of color. "Sorry, I'm late, traffic was a nightmare!" she announced, but her tone softened as she caught sight of Evelyn. "Oh, you're doing the mock case today! You go, girl!"

Evelyn's smile returned, buoyed by Garcia's infectious cheer. The room came alive with a fresh vigor, the team converging to weave their insights on Evelyn's building profile.

As the discussion continues, Spencer leaned in, his voice a low murmur meant only for Evelyn. "You have a good instinct for this," he murmured, his eyes twinkling with pride.

The moment shattered as JJ burst through the door, her breaths quick and sharp, cutting through the quiet. "Sorry to interrupt," she gasped, "But we've got a situation. The 'Charleston Choker'--he's active again."

A heavy silence fell, the team's focus coalescing into a sharp point. Hotchner's nod was silent, a nonverbal command that set the wheels in motion. "Go ahead, JJ."

With a sense of solemnity, JJ unfurled the folder, her fingers tracing the outline of a lily in a crime scene photo. "Two hours ago, a jogger found a body in the woods outside of Charleston. Strangulation, posed, and..." Her voice faltered, the weight of the words heavy on her tongue, "...a lily placed in the victim's hands."

Reid's mind was a whirl with patterns and profiles, his thoughts racing ahead. "That's the third this month. The escalation is consistent with his pattern."

Evelyn's response with a bright flame of determination, tinged with a concern of the uninitiated. "What's our timeline looking like? How fast is he moving now?"

"Faster," JJ returned, her gaze locking with Evelyn's, a silent exchange of resolve. "Days instead of weeks."

Garcia chimed in from her nest of monitors, "And I just cross-referenced florists in the area. There's a purchase that stands out--cash, large quantities. It could be our guy."

Evelyn's eyes shone, the thrill of her first case igniting a spark within. "That's something! Can we get a location?"

Reid's smile was tinged with pride and a hint of concern. "We can, and we will. But we need to be careful. This unsub is cautious; he's been evading us for a reason."

Hotchner rose, his very stance a commandment. "Wheels up in 30. JJ, brief us on the way. Garcia, send everything you have to the tablets."

The team began to mobilize, the urgency palpable. As they walked out, Evelyn turned to Reid, her voice a mix of excitement and naivety. "This is it, huh? The real deal?"

Reid nodded, the protective edge in his voice unmistakable. "It is. And remember, it's not about just catching him--it's about saving the next potential victim."

Evelyn's first step onto the BAU jet was like stepping into another world--one where the grim realities of their job were momentarily eclipsed by the sheer luxury of federal funding. The plush leather seats, the soft hum of the engines, it was all so... cinematic.

As she settled into the seat beside Hotchner, the reality of her situation began to sink in. She was here, really here, on the jet she'd seen countless times from her father, now filled with the tangible presence of her new colleagues--legends in their own right. And then there was Hotchner, the epitome of stoic leadership, his profile as he reviewed case files was a study in concentration. Evelyn couldn't help but steal glances, each one leaving her more awestruck than the last.

Hothcner's brow raised as his focus stayed on the case file. "Something on your mind, Evelyn?" he inquired, his voice steady.

Evelyn's cheeks were a canvas of emotion, painted with the embarrassment of being caught ogling as she averted her eyes. "Just... taking it all in. It's a lot to process," she said, her voice a whisper of excitement against the backdrop of her new reality.

A smile, rare and fleeting, graced Hotchner's lips. "It can be overwhelming at first," he acknowledged, his words a gentle nudge of encouragement.

The jet engines roared to life, and as they ascended, Evelyn felt the weight of her new reality. She was flying high, both literally and metaphorically on the wings of her dreams and the gravity of their mission. The juxtaposition was dizzying.

JJ commanded the room from the head of the plane, her laser pointer a wand of urgency as she traced the geography of the investigation. "This is where the last body was found," she intoned, each word heavy with the gravity of their task. "And here, and here. All within a ten-mile radius."

Morgan's posture was that of a statue, contemplative and still. "He's got a comfort zone. He's not taking any chances, staying close to what he knows," he mused, his thoughts a fortress around the profile they were building.

"Which means he's likely a local. Someone who blends in, who wouldn't raise suspicion," Reid contributes, his voice a sound of reason.

Evelyn observed with the intensity of a hawk. Her notes were a flurry of ink and paper, a physical manifestation of her fervor to contribute.

"So, we're looking for a needle in a haystack, but at least we know which haystack," she offered, her optimism a beacon in the fog of uncertainty.

Garcia's voice, a familiar melody, filled the space from the screen. "And I'm sifting through it as we speak, my doves. I'll find that needle," she promised, her determination a tangible force even through the digital divide.

Hotchner's nod was a silent decree, a sign of approval and command. "Good. Keep us updated, Garcia," he directed.

The team continues to brainstorm, throwing out theories and ideas. Evelyn sat amidst the seasoned agents; her eyes wide with a childlike wonder. Her enthusiasm was infectious, a palpable energy that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of her heartbeat--fast, eager, alive. Hotchner watched her, his gaze the steady flame in her excitement.

There was a softness there, a rare glimpse of approval that softened the hard lines of his face. He saw in her the spark that had once driven him, the unquenchable thirst for justice that was the lifeblood of their work.

Evelyn's idea cut through the hum of the plane's descent. "What if we set up a roadblock? Check vehicles coming in and out of the area?" Her voice a symphony of eagerness.

Rossi smirks at her words. "Not a bad idea for a rookie," he mused, his words a gentle tease wrapped in the velvet of experience.

As the plane continues to descend, the team starts to pack up their gear. Hotchner remained seated, his gaze anchoring Evelyn in place.

"Listen, Evelyn," he said, his tone even, "I know this is exciting for you, your first real case. But remember, this job... it can take a lot out of you. It can change you."

Evelyn nodded, her shine not dimming. "I know. But I'm ready."

Hotchner's expression softened just a touch. "Just don't lose that optimism. It's rare in this line of work, and it's... refreshing."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotchner #reid #dr. reid #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x original character #spencer reid x original character #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader x aaron hotchner #Spotify

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spooky-pomegranate · 7 days

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Eyes on Fire (pt 2)

*Enemies to Lovers inspired by the Year Zero music video*

Papa Emeritus II x Reader (18+)Word Count: 3.4k (Part 1) (Read on AO3) (Part 3)

Summary: Hoping to escape the headaches of Imperatrix's life you spend time in a forbidden section of the Abbey. Meanwhile, a sleepless Papa Secondo goes for a walk in the early morning hours to clear his mind.

(Dividers by @wrathofrats)

There was only one place you wanted to be...

A place far away from Papa’s dining room, the bustling great hall, and the dormitories flooded with siblings preparing for a night full of debauchery and sin. You wanted to be in the one place that felt most like home with the people who felt most like family. So you climbed. Stride by stride you moved down ancient and worn stone steps covered in cobwebs and dust as you made your way toward the ghoul dens.

The Abbey had stood on the same grounds for hundreds of years. In that time many improvements had been made. A swimming pool was added in the 1890s, the great hall was expanded in the 1920s, and more recently the kitchens had gone under a total rehaul, with new top-of-the-line appliances and expresso machines flown in from Italy. But the one place the ministry hadn’t touched in all those years was the space below.

The basement of the Abbey was a restricted section for all siblings. Partially because it was a bit unsafe and partially because the ghouls were too much of a handful to be trusted with nice things. There was no electrical power down below. The stone walls in the basement were lit only by candle sconces that threw around long casting and eerie shadows. To those unfamiliar, the basement probably looked more like a crypt than it did a home for hell-spawn creatures. But the ghouls liked it that way and so did you.

At the bottom of the stairs, you snatched a candle from one of the wall scones. For some reason lately, there had been an influx of rats scurrying around the Abbey. The last thing you needed was to accidentally step on one. That might just send you to orbit.

By candlelit, you followed the halls through their maze of twists and turns before stopping in front of a massive set of wooden double doors. A large bronze knocker cast in His image hung from the center. You picked it up and slammed it against the splintering wood door three times.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Yeah. Yeah,” you heard a familiar voice call from the other side. “Hold onto your granny panties would ya.”

The door groaned in a heavy sigh as it opened. A scrawny maskless ghoul stood in the entryway. Two white horns protruded from the crown of his head and ashen black skin covered his body. When his orange eyes met yours his spaded tail flicked from side to side.

“Hey! What’s up little snack pack?”

“Hey, Dew,” you sighed. “Can I come in?”

“Sure thing babe.” The fire ghoul bowed with a flourish and waved for you to enter. “Right this way little lady. You look like shit by the way.”

You rolled your eyes as you stepped past the ghoul. The main room of the ghoul den was decorated in what a generous person might call an “eclectic style.” Mix-matched furniture from varying decades was strewn around the room in random places. A few soft carpets were layered on top of one another to confront the cold that seeped into the stone floors during the winter months and much like the stairs leading to the basement, candles burned on the walls basking the place in a soothing warm and yellow light. It wasn’t beautiful. It wasn’t even that clean. But maybe because this was the only place in the Abbey that wasn’t dripping in opulence, it felt like being wrapped in a warm hug. And you needed that right now.

In the center of the room, Cumulus and Auoroa lounged on a lime-green sofa. On a small coffee table in front of them, snacks and drinks were laid out. They waved for you to join them.

“Hey guys,” you said, plopping down on the couch between them with a huff. Dew grabbed a guitar from a table by the door and sat in a chair across from you. Aimlessly he started picking at its strings.

“Hey, love,” Cumulus said smiling from your left. Like Dew, her skin was the color of burnt embers but her eyes differed. They were a beautiful soft gray. The same color as the sky before an evening storm or the pebbles on the beach by the lake south of the Abbey. “What are you doing down here? Shouldn’t you be in that shiny new suite of yours? Mountain told us it was real pretty.”

“Honestly today’s been a day,” you answered, sinking further into the couch. “Just wanted to hang out if that’s alright. Unless you guys had plans. Then I can fuck off.”

“Nah. No plans,” Aurora assured you, popping a chip into her mouth before offering you one. “We were just gonna practice for a bit. Unless you wanna talk about your day?”

“God no,” you answered, taking the chip. “Listening to you guys sounds really nice actually.”

“Oh thank Satan,” Dew huffed. Both Cumulus and Aurua shot the fire ghoul daggers and he stopped strumming the black and white guitar in his lap. “What?! Don’t lie you both wanna sing. You have been begginggggggg me to practice with you. ‘Dew please play with us,’” He impishly sang. “’Dew no one plays like you. Please Dew. You’re so talented with your fingers Dew.’”

“No one said that,” Aurura grumbled, throwing a chip at him. It landed squarely in between his eyes.

“Also we don’t sound like that. Plus if she’s having a bad day some humans like to talk about their feelings,” Cumulus added, picking up another chip and throwing it at Dew. “It’s called empathy dipshit.”

Dew stuck out his tongue and you laughed. You were surrounded by idiots. Sweet and loveable idiots. You were feeling better already. After a few more minutes of juvenile bickering, the hellspawns eventually settled down and started to play.

For as long as you’d known Dew he’d been a cocky shit, always bragging about his skills with a guitar. But as you listened to him play you knew he’d earned every brag he’d ever boasted. He was a magician with strings. Plucking and picking with a mesmerizing mastery that had to have been a gift from Satan himself. But the ghoulettes were just as spellbinding. Their harmonizing voices bounced off the high-bowed walls like sirens, lulling you into easy relaxation. At some point, you decided to crawl off the couch and lie on the floor, curling up in a pile of pillows and blankets and letting the music soothe you.

“That’s really pretty…” you murmured half-asleep, during a short break in the music.

“Mhmm. It is,” Cumulus purred from her spot on the couch.

“What’s it mean?”

“You don’t speak Latin?” Dew asked incredulously, before taking a long draw of some water Aurora had passed him.

You propped yourself up on your elbow and looked back at the fire ghoul. “Eh. I’m a little rusty.”

“Through hardships to hell.”

“What?”

“That’s what it means,” Dew answered, setting his water aside. “Per aspera ad inferi. It means through hardships to hell.”

“Oh,” you said shirking back to the floor and into your covers. It hadn’t occurred to you that this song might be incredibly personal to the three ghouls. They had quite literally crawled through hell to be here in this Abbey and serve the ministry. They had come from the real below.

“Did you guys come up with that?” You didn’t know much about their journey. You’d always assumed it wasn’t your place to ask or to know, but the song… it had been so haunting and yet… so strangely familiar. Even though you hadn’t understood the words, the music had clung to you. Like thick sticky syrup, it had swirled into your blood and mixed in your veins. You felt an inexplicable connection that was as old as time.

“No. We didn’t write it,” Cumulus said quietly.

“Who did?”

The three ghouls looked at one another. Seconds passed like minutes.

“Papa.”

There wasn’t much point in staying in the dens after that. You’d come down here to escape thoughts of Secondo only to be reminded of him all over again.

The climb back toward your suite didn’t take long. The Abbey was quiet this late at night. The hallways were empty of their regular hustle and bustle. Most siblings were asleep in their beds or tangled up in the sheets of another. You reached your door in record time. You pulled out your brass key and slid it into the door... but it was already unlocked.

You heard the crackling of your fireplace before you saw him. He was seated with his back to you in one of the tufted leather armchairs across the room. There were no lights on and you couldn’t see his face from the doorway, but none of that mattered. You knew who it was. Only one person owned the tense curve of those broad shoulders. It was him. It was Secondo. He was here in your room.

“Do I repulse you, sorella?” His voice boomed over the fire.

You froze in the doorway. Legs cemented to the ground, heart ready to bound out of your chest. What was he doing here? Had he come to expel you from the church? Was he going to smile as he tossed you out on your ass?

“Speak up sorella,” Secondo commanded. “I will repeat my question. Do I repulse you?”

“N-no, Papa,” you managed to squeak.

“Come here. I want to look at you while we have this conversation.”

Fuck. So this was it. The sadist was going to make you leave right here and now in the middle of the night. You moved across the room and into the dancing firelight.

After what had happened in the dining room you weren’t prepared to meet Secondo’s eye line again. So you delayed it. Slowly you looked him over, starting at his feet and working your way north.

Secondo wore a pair of black Oxfords, buffed and polished so pristinely that you saw your reflection staring back at you. A few inches higher black socks peaked out from underneath a pair of crisp black slacks. And on his steadily rising and falling chest, he’d opted for a button-down of a matching color. A black and emerald Grucifix hung from his neck. Head to toe he was dressed in black.

He looked like an undertaker. You closed your eyes. You weren’t ready to be laid out on his slab.

“You will answer me honestly, sorrella. No lies to your Papa.” It wasn’t a question but you nodded anyway.

You opened your eyes and looked at Secondo’s face. Since dinner, he’d washed away his sacred paints. A pair of dark aviators were perched on his crooked nose. He looked every bit like the Papa the siblings whispered about. An angry, bitter man, full of rage waiting for a spark to ignite his fire.

“You won’t partake in the offerings?” He questioned.

“No, Papa.”

“It is late, sorrella. I will not drag this out. Tell me your reason and do not lie.”

Secondo was right.

It was late. The clock in the corner of your room had finished its 24-hour cycle and the hours had reached into the early morning. But you were sick of having this conversation. You were sick of defending yourself. Fuck it. If Sister Imperator hadn’t told him you would—cards on the table.

“I don’t like to be so casual about who I have sex with.”

For a moment Secondo looked confused before he burst into a fit of laughter. Bending at the hip, he slapped his gloved hands on the arms of your chair. “Say that again sorella. That is the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.”

You wanted to slap him. Anger pooled in your stomach. Your fist clenched at your side. “I believe sex means something more when there’s more than just a physical connection.”

Secondo laughed again and you bit your cheek. “You know you sound like a Catholic when you say these things. ‘Means something more.’ Are you going to tell me that the next sister I sleep with I should marry and that I should make as many babies with her as possible?”

Secondo rose from the chair and stepped toward you. Inches separated you. You could smell his cologne. Rich and deep. Sacramental incense lingered on his clothes. He stared down at you over the ridge of his nose. His brows cast long, and angry shadows over his already glowering features.

“Do not confuse our rituals for something deeper, sorrella.”

“Of course, you would misunderstand me.”

The words slipped from your tongue before you could think twice. But you didn’t want them back. You meant it.

You’d seen Secondo.

You’d watched him as he moved through the Abbey every day and every night. He only ever thought of himself. He was a taker, never minding what others needed. What others wanted. So why would a conversation here and now be any different? Why would he consider any other person’s perspective but his own? He didn’t even remember what he’d said to you. How he’d hurt you.

“Watch your tone diavolessa,” he growled. “I am your Papa.”

Exactly right, you thought. You are my Papa but you are not my owner. My maker. My master. You have no right to claim me or to force me to do anything. I own my destiny. Not you. You took another step closer to Secondo, the front of your habit brushed against his dress shirt. Unafraid you tilted your chin up. Fire blazed in your eyes. Heat emanated from his chest.

“Apologies, your dark excellency. I will ask Sister Imperator to move me back to my former post in the gardens.” You didn’t want to give up your new apartment but you’d rather fight for lukewarm water in the communal showers than deal with him another day longer.

“That is…” Secondo paused and you closed your eyes bracing for the blow. Send me away. Do it. Send me back to the land of the undeserving and misguided. Do it now. I’d take them over you. I’d take anything over you. “Thatisunnecessary. I will see you tomorrow.”

Without another word, Secondo brushed past you and walked out your door.

There was no point in going back to his quarters. Secondo wouldn’t sleep. He hadn’t slept well in days. Tonight would be no different. There was too much on his mind.

He needed to clear his head.

So Secondo stepped out into the night.

The air was crisp and cool. Fall would be here soon and the flowers would shrivel. But for now, life still breathed in the grounds and the air still smelled sweet. Secondo followed the dirt path from the south entrance of the Abbey down to the gardens. His older brother had taken meticulous care of them since his retirement, practically spending every waking hour pruning and pampering his beloved piccoli fiori. Primo’s obsession had grown so strong that he’d even moved out of the Abbey’s suites and into a small log cabin on the edge of the ministry’s grounds so he could be closer to his work.

But Secondo hadn’t minded.

It made Primo happy and he could still find his brother for a chat whenever he needed to. If it weren’t for the early morning hour he would have sought out Primo for one of those talks now. The old man was more of a comfort than his father had ever been and his mind had been a mess for weeks. But the sun was almost up. Surely Primo in his old age was sound asleep somewhere. So Secondo chose to stroll the grounds alone and linger in the messiness of his mind.

He wandered through rows of vibrant roses and multicolored hydrangeas, passing various fruit trees and flowering cherry blossoms until he reached something he had not seen before. Underneath a centuries-old weeping willow, Primo had planted something new. In tightly packed rows narrow plots of spectacular white and pink flowers bloomed amongst leathery deep green shrubs. It was beautiful. The shrubbery looked like rhododendrons, but the flowers… Secondo had never seen anything like it. They resembled the cooper bells that hung in the Abbey’s highest towers.

He needed to smell them.

Secondo crouched down on the dirt path and reached for their pretty petals.

“Careful fratello.” Secondo quickly dropped his hand. “She is not so friendly this one.”

Clad in a red robe, Primo emerged from the dark path. His hands were clasped behind his back and he eyed his younger brother with a loving smile.

“Shouldn't you be asleep fratello?” Secondo asked, pushing off the ground with a groan that denoted his age and stood to his full height. “The sun will be up soon.”

“Ah, I was going to ask you the same,” Primo’s smile widened, strolling over to stand next to Secondo. “Do you like the fiori? They are beautiful, no?”

“Si. They are,” Secondo answered truthfully. “New additions?”

“Not entirely fratellino. Many moons ago these flowers used to surround our little Abbey. If you would indulge un vecchio uomo I would like to tell you their story.”

Secondo nodded, “Of course, Primo.”

The elder Emeritus led his younger brother to a stone bench under the willow tree. They sat down together. Secondo looked over the rows of flowers as his brother began to tell his story.

“Before you and I, walked these grounds there was a beautiful sibling who cared for the fiori and impianti. She came to the church with an extensive knowledge of botany and quickly thrived here. From the things she grew, she established the first apothecary in the ministry. She helped many siblings. She was happy and content. Eventually, she fell in love with a brother and he with her. But one day when the sister walked these grounds she witnessed a betrayal. Her mate with another. Her heart was broken. But the sister would not let this indignity stand. She introduced a colony of bees to the garden and let them feed on the nectar of these very beautiful fiori.” Primo’s gloved hand pointed to the rows of pink and white bell flowers in front of them.

“And then the ever-patient sister waited. She waited and pretended everything with her lover was bene, while in the night he continued to be with another. But after a time she returned to the garden and to her bees. She collected their honey knowing their nectar had been poisoned by these beautiful fiori. One evening the sister made her lover a pot of tea and added a spoonful of her wicked honey. As he drank the brother’s lips began to burn. Pain flamed his mouth and throat. He withered and convulsed in pain for hours. The legend diverges here. Some say the brother died. While others claim he recovered but fled the ministry in fear of his beloved’s vengeful wrath. In both versions of the tale these flowers were ripped from our grounds.”

Secondo sat quietly trying to make sense of his brother’s story. Ever since he could remember his elder brother had used longwinded tales to teach him lessons of the world or of the church. But tonight for the life of him, he could not figure out what Primo was to say. What did these poisonous flowers have to do with anything?

He was too tired. A puzzle was the last thing he wanted. He couldn’t hide his annoyance.

“Why are you telling me this brother?” Secondo asked exasperatedly. “You know I don’t care about these plants the way you do.”

“Ahh,” Primo hummed. “That may be true but tastes change fratellino. Things we once thought were insignificant can become valuable to us, no?”

“Primo I don’t under-”

“It’s nice to have beautiful things around, even if we cannot touch, si? Even if we cannot taste?”

Secondo raised an eyebrow. “What have you seen fratello?”

“It should not matter what I’ve seen. You must see for yourself.”

Secondo angered. Standing quickly he spun and stared down at his brother. “How quickly you forget what it is like Primo!” he shouted. “I need guidance. I don’t need this. I don’t know why I bother when you only speak in riddles.”

Secondo turned his back and stormed away from Primo, but before he got lost amongst the roses he heard his brother's voice.

“He has not forgotten you nor have I. Patience fratellino. Plans are already in motion. You will not be denied.”

(Follow along on AO3 here)

(Part 3) (Back to Part 1)

#secondo x reader #papa secondo #daddy secondo #secondo #secondo emeritus #ghost secondo #ghost #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost the band #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii fanfiction #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus ii x female reader #papa emeritus secondo

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grapejuicestyless · 8 months

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Can you please do a conklin oldest sister x Conrad in a best friends to lovers. Like the four times you almost kissed and the one time you did.

I was thinking maybe for one time she’s cleaning him up after the bonfire fight and he’s sorta drunk and thanks her for always caring for him or just ask her why she does it and it gets all tense and then obv they almost kiss and then they get interrupted. And maybe another one in their tween years. The other two can be whatever you want. Also childhood flashbacks and fluff, probably Susannah sorta knowing and shipping too. A tiny bit of angst too. Sorry if this is a lot like your Back to You one! Thanks <3!

Don’t Go.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Flangst

Summery: The THREE times you almost kissed and the one time you did.

“Con.” My voice was soft. His bedroom was quiet, even the softest of whispers echoed through the four walls. Bouncing around and ringing back into our ears.

He hummed in response, eyes stuck to the ceiling. We counted each bump, each paint stroke. Not out of boredom, but because the idea that we could be together, just the two of us in our own little peace was comforting.

“Do you think we’re best friends in every universe?” The question was stuck to my tongue like glue. It almost hurt coming out that way. A double edge sword, in some ways.

In my head, I’d always entertained the idea of Conrad and I. A pairing that just worked. The idea that I could call him mine, his mornings and nights. I enjoyed the daydream of his arms around my own. His shirt in my closet. Not because I stole it, but because he wanted me to have it.

Swallowing, my eyes flickered back over to his face. When I pulled myself from my head, I saw him. His eyes bright, serious and looking deeply into my own. The soft smile on his face said it all, the gentle touch of his shoulder brushing my own. We were so close that his deep breathing caused our skin to touch. Our arms bumping into each other smoothly.

“You trying to get rid of me already? I thought we had a good thing going?” He faked offense, a coy smile on his face turning into one that was purely cheeky. I couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t unusual for Conrad to avoid deeper questions. It wasn’t because he couldn’t answer them. No, Conrad was one of the brightest people I knew, if not the most.

So, I pushed at him. Nudged him so he shook. I needed to know. In my eyes, all I could ever see was Conrad. What if he never imagined the same?

His deep sigh sounded distant. I knew then that he understood why I even bothered to ask. He wasn’t annoyed, he never was. It was just a calming pause as he thought of what to say. My breath caught in my throat, there was a pregnant pause. His eyes stuck to ceiling, my hands intertwined over my stomach.

I couldn’t pull my eyes from his face. How beautiful he looked in the setting sun. The rays of warmth dancing through his cracked window, leaving a warm spit on the bed. We soaked it up. I watched how his face never lost the glow of happiness, a gentle smile forever stretched across his calm face.

His smile was always evident, even when he was serious. He once said it was because there was nothing I could do to make him upset. That I was a radiant ball of sunshine, a shot of expresso. I took it as an insult then, I thought he was calling me annoying. Now I understand I was far too immature to understand how poetic he was.

“In every universe.” Again, he looked to me. His eyes were certain of it. Like even if it was unsure that any other universe existed, if one did he was positive that we would be just the same. Laying in the quiet in the warm sunlight, taking in the peace of each other’s presence.

Boundless. Infinite. The only words that could accurately describe us, I believed. The possibilities of what could be. With each passing second, the invisible string that tied us together, tethering around out hearts grew thicker. Tightening between them, the distance left little room to get away.

If I ever decided I hated him, which I understood now would forever be impossible with how grand the impact his love had on my heart was, even then I would forever be tied to his pinky. Stuck to him like glue. We would forever be connected. We were infinite.

And for that time, I swore I could feel some energy pulling him closer. His soft breaths escaping his nose tickled my own. He looked concentrated, almost like he was preoccupied with something. Something that was tugging at him ferociously. For a moment, his bright eyes lowered, darkened by the heaviness of his eyelids. We were stuck, forever inching closer. I wondered if this was really happening.

“Do you ever think of death?” His cheeky smile pulled me again from my overly sentimental ideals. He was serious, he always was when he needed to be. But then again, I know my best friend, I know my Conrad. Its only so long before he retreats back to the warm hug of his poorly timed jokes and mediocre humor.

“Shut up!” I laughed. Even though I had pushed him, the rush of laughter weakened my muscles. Even with all the force of my arms he barely moved. So, collapsed on his bed, we laid in our own shared joy until it faded into another quiet nothingness. And still, we were never bored, but instead basking in the other’s presence. Happy to be able to sit so close and call the other their best friend.

At the time, I prayed he would have kissed me. The thought of it kept me up some nights. What was he playing? What was his reasoning. I realized now that Conrad may not have been going in for something so intimate. He got lost often, trying to find some comedic relief. It was more Jeremiah’s speed, the light hearted jokes and the idiotic tendencies. But we were only fourteen then. Back when the invitation to his bedroom felt like a golden ticket, a privilege to be seated so close to the boy I swooned so horribly over in my prepubescence.

What I didn’t know then, something that was uncertain I certainly knew now. Conrad wasn’t trying to kiss me, and he never would. He was my best friend, my buddy. I was the girl who would stand beside him and wish she could be the girls he fell for each time. We were best friends, in every universe. Infinite.

The grass was wet. Dew covered the blossoming slopes of green, sand packed into the roots, picking up in the gentle breeze. The radio from the ruby red Jeep crackled with the early morning birds. August humidity, blue jays and seagulls singing and squawking. If you moved in the right way, bending your arms outward, the air would fill your shirt and the flapping sound would fill the car unbearably loud. I knew that because Y/n insisted it was freeing. My bare chest in the ocean wasn’t subjected to the same heat she endured. Our clothes didn’t stick the same.

It was a routine now. Every Wednesday, just before the sun fully broke the horizon, Y/n and I would tiptoe as quietly downstairs as we could, simply to be able to refill the muffin tray. Neither of us enjoyed the raisin ones. Laurels favorites, though her sour expression seemed to say otherwise. Maybe it was a health thing, she would never tell us. She was stubborn, and strong. It was obvious that Y/n was her daughter.

The pebbled driveway felt much louder without the accompanying screaming of children and loud engines of lawnmowers. Each step was followed by an apologetic hiss, we would spend a few minutes just getting to the car. The tradition seemed stupid after the first month, but it was so ingrained into our minds, it felt wrong to just rush to the car. It was less fun without the thrill of sneaking out.

She’d always wait until the silent street turned into bustling town roads, families ready to work, friends ready to leave. Once my hands were tied she would roll down her window and shift her body. She would smile at me until I acknowledged it. She was cocky, smug about my growing annoyance.

And at first, it really got on my nerves. Yet, the more and more she did it, the less I cared about the reasons, the more the sound drowned out with the townsfolk laughing just a little too loud for the early morning and the barking dogs and hissing cats.

I never fully enjoyed it. Every sharp corner still hurt my ears, but I never minded it. Her laughter and ease put my mind to rest. More so, it reminded me that this was something only she would do. Only she would think to annoy me with.

My heart fluttered, pathetically at how simple her teasing was and how much it affected me. How her laughter cured any headache. How the leather seats smelled less like the beach and more of Y/n’s summer scents.

She worked two jobs. A coffee shop in the winter and a small ice cream hut in only July. And with each place she visited, she changed ever so slightly.

In December, she smelled of coffee grounds. It was something usually so bitter, but something that mixed so perfectly with her vanilla perfume she’d worn since freshman year, it balanced into something delicate, delicious. It was intoxicating, almost as much as she was.

In the summer, she smelled of strawberry and something sweet. Not quite vanilla, but closely related. It was refreshing, never overpowering. All of the winter washed away, you could practically smell the sand stuck to our skin and salty hair from the water.

I loved how I could smell it. I loved how I knew the difference. It reminded me of all the time we spent together. How lucky I was to have her so close. Even if our time was always so limited. I knew the difference because I payed attention. She was my favorite person, without a doubt. I knew her through and through. Her shampoo, her favorite tops. I knew everything because I loved her. Held her close with no room to let go.

And the more I came to terms with this, the less resistant I became to her teasing. The less resistant I was to the sound of her shirt violently shaking in the wind. The windows being down and letting in the morning chill no longer phased me. It was routine, one I’d grown to love endlessly. One I couldn’t ever part with.

Pulling up to the small bakery that sold the muffins, I could always predict the order. Two chocolate chips, three blueberry, two raisin and one plain. I knew that on the way back to the car, she would be balancing the boxes in her arms, begging me to not help and just open the damn door.

When we’d get back into the car, she’d immediately open a box. Then, we’d split a blueberry muffin. It was tradition.

Always the messy eaters, soon the evidence was left on our faces. Crumbs stuck in the crevices of the leather seats, blue smeared by the corners of our mouths. I couldn’t help hut laugh at her ridiculousness. Her furrowed brows and happy smile. She looked so soft like this. The morning glow and her determination to finish the muffin quickly. It put everything into perspective. A reminder of why I felt so strongly stuck to her.

“You have a little something.” She teased, finger pointing, ironically enough, to a splotch of blue painted on her own face. She was unaware, yet so sure of her own joke she hadn’t gone to wipe her own face prior.

“Oh yeah?” I challenged. She nodded, “Where?” I persisted, I leaned in closer, riling her up. Her hand smeared across my face. Harshly wiping at the crumbs until it was just a faint line of blue from my lip to my cheek.

“Got it.” I pushed away, spitting at her stupid jokes. Truthfully, if it had been anyone else I would’ve yelled. It was childish, annoying. But this was Y/n, so somehow it became rather endearing, sweet.

My eyes locked with the blueberry by the corner of her mouth. She didn’t notice how my face had relaxed into a gentler smile, how my shoulder settled and breathing calmed. As she was thrown into her own laughing fit. Her hands guarded her body and her eyes were teary. It was my chance.

With revenge in my sight, my hand slapped across her face smoothly. Not hard enough to hurt her, but enough to make her eyes snap open and laughing to calm. Smearing her own mess around her face, blue gathered around her skin like a violet tinted lipstick. She looked shocked, only for a minute.

I saw the way her mouth quivered, I felt her heart face. But it all stuttered to a stop when the first laugh escaped her serious gaze. A silent admittance that U had gotten her back, a playful game between the two of us that ended in spilled baked goods and messy skin.

“Truce?” She called in the cool down. My eyes found hers then, and in them held a honest truth, no tricks hidden behind them or malicious intent. Oddly enough, the foolish game between made my body feel warmer, fuzzy. My heart raced. It was something so secretive in a way. Nobody would know what happened here, it was a memory between just us. Something that I only we could smile about.

My head was stuck in a lavender haze, so much so I fell oblivious to the way my hand barely traced her lip. My hands curled into a fist, I rubbed away some violet from the corner of her mouth. It was gentle, feathery light even.

I am reminded every time I touch her that I do not have her, and blinded by the possibility that one day I could. Her skin feels natural under my fingers. Maybe its the fact I’ve known the girl for my whole life, or maybe its my own unshakeable love for her. Still, for some reason I am stuck with my hand by her cheek, with my eyes concentrated on the way shes smiling while I do it.

“Conrad?” Her voice is soft, nervous almost. I look to meet her eyes, but I keep my hand still, slipping just below her jawline. There I swipe my hand under it to cradle her head by her ear. I leave a trail of evidence in my wake, it reminds me of how playful we were, how painfully platonic her jokes were. It almost burns to hold her now, so my hands fall to my sides.

In my little resistance left, I held back. But more than anything, I wanted to place my lips against hers. She looked so much like home. She was everything to me. But her voice and her concern reminds me that her lips are not mine to kiss. I clear my throat, trying not to seem so flustered.

“Sorry, I spaced out.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Y/n was guilty of having a magnetism that felt almost obnoxious. It pulls you in, and once your in its hold, its impossible to remember reality.

“Yeah, yeah. Its fine. We should probably get back.” I nodded in agreement, but even with my eyes pulled away from her, all my willpower used up on trying to not look at her, I notice her hurt tone. How she seems almost distant, disappointed. She shifts in her seat when the car starts again. Suddenly the muffin tastes bitter under its sweat exterior. And I am filled with regret.

“Conrad, I’m going to grab a drink, you want your usual?” I nodded, eyes watching how she weaved between the crowd, her shoulders shrink and her waist turns until shes gone into the night.

I forget how many people are around when shes so close. It’s embarrassing how obsessed I feel around her. I can feel how my heart beats aggressively whenever shes around, I wonder if she feels it to. I think about taking her hand, placing it on my chest and asking her. Its a thought that comes solely because I am drunk. I know it. Sober me would never have to courage, the audacity to go onto her so quickly. But the liquor is the microphone and I am projecting my feelings more openly than ever before.

I think of all the times we came so close. How when she asked if we would be forever together, I choked and pushed away what was presented. It was romantic, and we were so young. Then I had never felt more confident and I held back. She gives me another chance, as I wipe away all crumbs and I fold again. I am conscious of my surroundings, of my feelings. I am aware of the consequences.

“…Y/n.” The name is fuzzy, I am still coming out of my daydreams, my head is clearing again when the sound of her name comes up out of the blue. When I turn I see a scattered group of younger boys. High schoolers, no doubt. I see the way they search into the distance like I had. Not seeing anyone but wishing they could.

Its a blur, how it happens. One of them says something stupid, horny and drunk and suddenly we are in the sand. My knuckles are bloody, my nose is bleeding. I hear him grunting underneath my body, I am suddenly aware that I am winning.

“Conrad!” Her voice is heavenly, but I don’t pull my punches. I am angry, defending her like I owe it to her. I don’t even know if he’s hitting back anymore. I can’t feel it, I’m going numb.

“Conrad!” Her hands yank at me until I stand. He’s still swinging, but he’s missing. Bruises are forming, his mouth is bleeding. I feel no remorse. I am not sorry, not until I turn around and see her.

Her eyes are glistening, and her nose is scrunched. Whether from her threatening tears or the stench of sweat and smoke. I cannot tell. But I know how her lip is quivering, how hard she is holding back. Whether it is sadness or anger, I do not want to know.

Watching her stare me down, its like letting the high come down. The numbness fades, turns out the boy had gotten some punches. My body is littered in bruises and cuts from his nails.

When she drags me away, I understand how naive I was for thinking she would appreciate the violence. All of this happens so quick, I didn’t even get to tell her it only happened because all I want is for her to be respected. I did it to defend her. Shes silent, breathing heavily to make the escape, nobody has to know what happened but us.

Shes a good friend to me, shes always there. Its stupid how my heart flutters again, how it drops into my stomach and back up again. I want to hurl, I am so anxious of her reaction. And all I want is for her to hold me and tell me I did her right.

The stench of smoke was stuck in the air. Even in a ventilated room, one filled with cracked open windows and boundless moonlight bleeding across the floor. The white tiles speckled with crimson red dots, a reckless line to the toilet.

I had him in my hands, cheeks squished under my palms, toilet paper held against his nose. His breathing was stuffy, heavy. All remnants of the evening.

If I knew how much trouble he would cause, I wouldn’t have walked away. No, if I knew he would suffer, I wouldn’t have left.

His eyes are shifty, glossy and wide. He is drunk, and emotional. He wouldn’t ever tell me why, but I assume its because the bruises that make him flinch each time he stretches too far out.

He hiccups, groaning and holding his side. I almost roll my eyes at his stupidity.

“Hold still.” I say it under my breath, focused on prying away the tissue from him nose. I blot at the crimson that stains his peachy skin. His eyes shut tightly, tears fall from the corners. He hasn’t cried in front of me in awhile, it makes my heart stop.

His hand fumbles for mine, and once its found, suddenly I’m holding it. He’s not squeezing, but I can feel how he resists the urge to. He does one time, squeeze my hand. When I hiss, he apologizes repeatedly.

“It’s okay, I know, I know.” I plead for him to stop so I can finish. He is drunk and I an no better. I am halfway to where he is, a red solo cup spilled on the beach that would’ve led me there.

“See? All done.” Tossing the red wine stained tissue into the trash, his eyes open. They are foggy, and he is quiet. For a minute I think he might vomit, but it never comes and the floor is just as clean as it was when we came.

“You always take care of me.” He breaks the heavy silence. Neither of us are sure if Im angry or not. Neither of us can decide it.

“No I don’t.” I remember the time he fell of the monkey bars in pre-school and I laughed until he got so angry that he shoved me into the grass. I remember how in middle school, when a girl had a crush on him I told her he still slept with a night light. It wasn’t a lie-but it was cruel.

“Yes you do, you always do.” He thinks of the time when I got the last chocolate soft serve and he wanted it so desperately. How he didn’t even beg me, I wanted to see him happy so I shared. He thinks of the time his first girlfriend dumped him so we called the entire night until she was a distant memory. He thinks of all the good, while I only see the bad.

“Why do you do it?” Because I love you, you idiot. What I want to say, but never will. Because with each chance that I think he might feel the same, with every chance we have at becoming more, he slips away. And my heart breaks.

“I don’t know.” I wonder of he can hear how fast my heart is beating. I feel it in my stomach, it’s in my ears, ringing.

His hand is hot on mine when he changes the way it fits against his. He no longer cups my palm out of stress in pain, but intertwines our fingers.

“You’re always there for me.” He’s drunk rambling now, he still has that same drunken expression stuck to his face. I nod, I feel him pull me closer.

My body slots between his thighs, I am looking down at him. His breath is heavy, I can feel his palms getting sweaty.

“Conrad, we should really get you to bed.” I try and keep us apart. Truthfully, even with the stench of beer on his breath and the unbearable heat of the summer night, my knees are still weak and my heart is still racing.

I try and pull away, removing myself. But I become a rubber band. My arm extends, and he’s pulling me right back to where I was before. It’s like we haven’t moved.

“Don’t go.” He says it quietly, but the way he says it makes me want to stay forever with him just like this. His eyes are glossy, searching my face. I feel how his other hand fingers its way to my jawline.

He doesn’t ghost over my skin like he did in the car, his touch is heavy, firm. The rest of my body feels cold without his touch. His fingertips set my jawline on fire.

“Con.” I plead. I want it more than anything, to be held by him so intimately. But he’s drunk, he doesn’t truly want this. He’s horny and I made the mistake of getting too close.

“Y/n.” He smiles devilishly. His face is so much closer before. I’m aware of that now that I’m truly paying attention. His hand is behind my ear, fisting at my hair. It doesn’t hurt, physically.

When our foreheads bump, I become stuck. He’s so damn magnetic, I cannot move away.

“Don’t go, okay?” He asks again, breathlessly. My hand is dropped, my waist is being cradled and I am fully committed to him.

Nodding, I cave but I can’t stop shaking. I want this, but if we kiss and in the morning he decides he doesn’t want it, it would shatter me forever.

His nose bumps mine clumsily, and his breath is heavy. He doesn’t seem anxious, scared. But his heart isn’t beating like mine. He’s sweating not from fear, but from the alcohol. Suddenly I want to escape. I can’t be here any longer.

“Y/n? Conrad! Are you in there?” Belly knocks on the door frantically and I pull away so fast, he can’t grab me and beg for me to stay. He can’t trap me.

Shes confused, face illuminated by the light of the bathroom. The hallways is dark behind her and our shoulders brush.

I don’t trust myself within the walls of this house. I walk away from it with all my willpower. I’m gone and I don’t stop going until the road stops curving and I am in the middle of a patch of unclaimed land. Where the grass is untamed and the moon is darker behind the trees.

Its overdramatic, the way I struggle to breathe. Its like his hand wasn’t just there on my jaw, but squeezing. My skin hurts where his body touched mine. He doesn’t want me, I am reminded. He is drunk. Why else would he suddenly present himself and beg for me to stay.

I know it only hurts so much because it’s Conrad. My buddy, my best friend. The love of my life. I remember how he begged me not to go, how he praised me. Buttering me up just for him to leave in the morning.

I held my breath just a little longer than I should have. Waiting for him to chase after me. Tell me one last time to never leave him, that he really did love me. That he really did want me.

But I am not naive, or stupid. I know he is fast asleep by now. I imagine Belly tucked him into bed quickly after I left. He is sleeping peacefully, and while I rip out my hair, he will be blissfully unaware in the morning.

“Why are you angry?” Susannah pried, flipping through her magazine. She was slouched on the couch, a sundress draped over her body. She was glowing, unbothered completely by my sour mood.

“I’m not mad.” I sat next to her, stiff. If I were to sink into her shoulder, surely I would crack. I stared at the blank TV, too scared to make another sound or to move.

When I heard the crinkle of the paper and a soft slap against the wooden table, I silently cursed myself.

“Y/n, honey.” God, I wanted to punch her in her perfectly white teeth then. How kind and observant she was. She was almost condescending when she said my name again. Neither of us were idiots, neither of us oblivious.

I had been avoiding Conrad like the plague for the past week. When he woke up the next morning, unaware of what happened, confused about why I looked so exhausted, so frustrated I finally bent too far and snapped.

Looking into his eyes made me feel nothing but guilt. I swore to keep that night out of sight then. If he didn’t know, then nobody had to. We could go back to normal. But still, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t forget the way his breath was warm against mine, how his hands felt under my shirt. How he begged me to stay. It was all I ever wanted.

I didnt tell her, still. And my lies were shallow. Unbelievable.

“Did something happen between you and Conrad?” Her voice was innocent, light, airy. And her touch, the exact opposite of her sons, was so confident, so sure. Like there was nothing I could do or say to change how she saw me. And though she played coy, her smile told me she knew. She’d known for awhile.

I stuttered on my breath, only able to shake my head. My cheeks heated and lips bitten raw.

“Honey Im no idiot, I know you just like I know my son.” Her hands stopped running through my hair, falling to her sides. She sympathized with me, and the look in my eyes told me she knew more than what happened that night.

“So you know, then.” And silently, we both understood that we weren’t talking about the late night rendezvous and blood staining the bathroom tiles.

“I’ve always known.” Her eyes crinkled when she smiled. My shoulders felt heavy then. Maybe he knew too, maybe thats why I freaked out.

Her hand rubbed my cheek, it felt nice to not shy away from her. Melting into her shoulder, I let her hold me like her daughter while we stared into blank space.

“What if it’s never the same?” It was my greatest what if. Determining if my confession I had been secretly brewing for years would ever be able to be taken back. If we could ever go back to the simplicity of our youth.

“Somethings are worth the risk.” Her words stuck to me like glue. And though I knew she was right, I couldn’t help but run away from the elephant in the room, I couldn’t help but abandon Conrad.

When the house is cold and empty later, I come out of my room and into the light. It is when everything is silent and untouched that I allow myself to bask in the warm setting sun in the kitchen. I let the summer air kiss my skin and I clear my head.

The pans in the sink clank behind me and the refrigerator opens. Its not dark quite yet, but its dimmer out, so the light from the refrigerator illuminates the countertops, signaling it was opened. However, whoever had entered hadn’t said a thing yet, I can’t help but hold my breath.

“Can I sit?” His voice is low, unsure. It reflects the exact opposite of our last night together. I want to run again, my skin suddenly feels too tight over my bones, everything is caving in. But then I remember what Susannah said. He would be my greatest what if of my life if I never tried to mend and move forward. Conrad is the biggest risk that I am forever willing to take.

“Yeah, of course.” Its awkward between us now, and I am aware that everything is already never the same. There is no going back. I want to leave now, now that I know what he feels like. But my heart aches and my mind won’t stop screaming at me to ask.

I fiddle with my hands, looking outside, I can feel his eyes on mine. I decide then to screw it all, I have to leave. Screw the plan, screw my brewing confessions, screw mending and forgiving and forgetting. I can’t. I’m lost and so is he.

When the chair slides out from under me, I don’t expect the other to hiss across the wooden floor behind me. I don’t expect him to grab my wrist and pull me back.

“Don’t go.” It was quiet, but it was confident. He was sure for once. And I could see it in his eyes that he remembered. That he understood why I was running. More than that, I could see how he was hurting just as I was.

“Why’d you do it, Conrad?” My mind is silent after the echoing words come out of my mouth. He shakes his head, and I try and break free. He’s not really hurting me, but he is and he refuses to talk to me.

“No, Y/n…” He pulls me back. I don’t stop trying to escape.

“Tell me and I’ll stop, tell me and I’ll stop.” I beg, my throat is sore, and my eyes ache from holding back my tears. It’s pathetic how quickly I am worked up over him. When I was the one to leave in the first place.

“Stop. Stop it.” I am struggling against him, his hands try to find my wrists desperately. When he finds them, I am stuck in place, his hands like shackles.

“Stop it!” He yells, his voice rings in my ears.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” My tears are falling quickly, and they are hot with how angry I am.

“I don’t know!” He begged me to understand, to see his side. But all I can remember is how stupid I felt all these weeks. How the flashbacks of the times it almost happened haunted me. How I believed he never really wanted me.

“You knew, you knew and you made me feel like an idiot!” I pushed him back, but with his hands on my wrists I only went back with him.

“Y/n.” He’s patient, he always has been, but I’m wearing him thin. I know it. I need him to snap, I need it.

“Why didn’t you tell me! Why!” I begged him for an honest answer, I pushed him and I didn’t stop until he was just as desperate.

“I was scared!” He said it like it was a solution.

“So was I, you asshole!” We were out if breath, sitting in a brief silence. I looked away to collect myself, catch my breath but the second he was back in my eye sight, all my composure was gone again.

“You never gave me the chance.” He says it softer than before, but its just as vicious.

“Was I supposed to wait for you to get the balls? You came downstairs perfectly fine while I was tearing myself apart with guilt! Me! When you were the one who was begging me to stay!” I match his tone. Its frantic, I’ve never felt more stressed.

“Y/n, please.” The more he says my name, the more angry I get. The less patient I get. And I am not patient.

“Can you not see how in love with you I an you idiot! Are you that blind or do you get pleasure from ripping me apart?” My confession weighs on him like a ton of bricks, I feel his hands stutter on mine. I see his mouth freeze and the color drain from his face.

If I didn’t feel stupid before, I feel it now. I feel more than stupid, I feel crushed. Completely shattered by his silent rejection.

He drops his hands, too in shock to keep such a strong grip. Tears are welling up again, and my lip refuses to stop quivering. I can’t hold it together and I’ve already made enough of a fool out of myself. I have to leave. Its the only thing I’m good at.

Turning swiftly on my heals, I make my escape, eyes set on the door ahead. But there it is again. His hand on my wrist. And its yanking at me more than ever before. It’s spinning me around until I am secure in Conrad’s arms and his lips are pressed to mine so quickly, there is no time to second guess it.

Its heavenly, the way his mouth molds to mine, the way its not rushed. Even after all this time, he is patient. He is playing it out and we are both enjoying it. His kiss happened in a way that nobody else would ever be able to recreate. The sparks were deadly, it was all too much for anything to ever be the same.

We were breathless then, when he pulled away and the look in his eyes was sparkling, almost as beautiful as his smile.

“Conrad, I…” He’s smiling at my shock and his hands are on my cheeks now. His touch his firm and he’s never letting go. We don’t have to speak to understand that this is what we are now. Silently, we are agreeing to be more, and I understand that he’s not going anywhere.

And he kisses me in a way that would screw me up forever.

#conrad fisher #conrad x reader #conrad fisher angst #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad x you #conrad fisher x reader #conrad #team conrad

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kekaki-cupcakes · 2 months

Note

hello!! Hope you’re doing well!!

could you please do a Leo x mortal reader cafe au like the Connor stoll one? And could the reader be a Greek mythology nerd also please have a little brother who she’ll randomly quiz about the Olympian gods?

have a nice day 😚😚

heyyy i didn't get your whole request in but i got the vibe dw and also kind of made a moodpboard for it cause I loved the whole aesthetic and no one requests mood boards <3 LISTEN TO EXPRESSO BY SABRINA!

Leo Valdez x Reader--- cafe au

»»————-　★　————-««

“Hello,” you said, looking up from your screen for a millisecond, “what can I get you today?”

When whoever it was ordering didn’t respond, you raised an eyebrow, hand hovering over the digital menu. The boy frowned at the screen above your head where it listed all the different drinks. He had the nicest brown curls, you noticed, and looked back down before he caught you staring.

He tapped his fingers quickly on the counter. Sabrina Carpenter's new song was playing over the cafe speakers. It sounded like summer.

“How many espresso shots are you legally allowed to put in one drink?” The boy asked with a crackly voice. He had dark smudges under his eyes. And on his hands. Huh. You really needed a camera to look into at times like this, for comedic effect. Like the office.

“About six,” you said, dropping your customer service voice with a shrug, and opened up a new order on the tablet, your bracelets jingling. “What can I get you today?”

You loved your bracelets. Some were from that second hand store down the street full of goths and grandmas where you’d bought yet another version of the Odyssey yesterday, and the rest were from your little brother.

You never admitted it to anyone, but he’d made them based on all your favorite Greek gods. The ones you were wearing today had pomegranate seed charms and antler horn patterns.

His eyes widened considerably. They were brown. And sparkly. “What happened to your voice?”

You squinted at him. Someone else came into the cafe with three little dogs stuffed into their giant handbag.

“That was my customer service voice.” Your brain was finally receiving enrichment in messing with this cute greasy boy. You put it on again, paired with a fake smile. “What can I get for you today?”

He chuckled, and hitched a giant canvas tote bag over his shoulder. There was a giant inked cat with butterfly wings on it, and a long metal pipe sticking out the back. You had a feeling this boy would steal your name if he got ahold of it, or trap you in a ring of flowers deep in a forest.

“Uh,” he trailed off, and then winked, scrunching up his entire face. “Surprise me.”

You blinked at him. How entirely helpful. You watched him pull an entire fucking old fashioned pocketwatch out of his pocket to check the time.

Medium was the most commonly ordered size of drink, so you selected that, and then a caramel latte with whipped cream. You had that knack that every person in your generation seemed to have been born with.

Selecting random objects and flavors to match someone’s vibe precisely. You just happened to be a barista.

For instance, this talkative sleep deprived boy was rocky road slices with peanuts in them, and torn open sugar packets, and caramel. Your coworker, Lou Ellen, who was wiping down tables behind the handbag dog man, was those butterfly shaped ice-cubes and home brewed black coffee from a saucepan and dragon fruit juices. And that thick book on Greek mythology she’d bought you for your birthday last year [she’d nicked it from the library and peeled the sticker off].

“Four dollars and sixty cents,” you said patronizingly, in your customer service voice. He grinned like you had just invented the funniest inside joke ever, and handed over five dollars in fifty cents coins.

“Keep the change.”

You printed out the receipt and reached for a medium sized cup and the ballpoint pen from a uni campus open day, after pocketing the generous tip of forty cents and a paperclip.

What a gentleman. “Name?”

“Leo Valdez, super sized Mcshizzle, bad boy supreme,” Leo Valdez super sized Mcshizzle bad boy supreme said happily, as one of the handbag dogs escaped the bag and started chewing on his laces.

You desperately needed that camera to look into now. You should be the star of a sitcom at this point, with you as the tired main character dealing with silly customers while desperately longing to go home and read your books, Lou Ellen as the hilarious trashy best friend, Will [your coworker who was currently taking out the trash] as the angry bisexual lumped with the night shift crew, and your little brother, who would pop in at random times in each episode to deliver the punchline.

Instead of letting the credits roll, unfortunately, you scribbled out an unintelligible scrawl to represent the complete nonsense you were supposed to instead. Your smile was strained this time. “I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Leo [you assumed that was his name] beamed. “Thanks!”

It was only as you frothed the milk and tried not to burn your fingertips on the spout did you realize that the song was still going. Lou must’ve looped it, as she did with every song ever until she got sick of it and hated it.

You nodded your head and tipped the bubbling milk into the cup, reaching for the tube of caramel sauce. “Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya, I know I Mountain Dew it for ya.”

“That morning coffee, brewed it for ya.” You rolled your eyes to no one and tipped the extra caramel sauce into it. It was ten o'clock at night, and your shift had just started. Morning coffees meant college students rushing in at two a.m. so they could finish their projects.

You shook up the whipped cream. “One touch and I brand-newed it for ya.”

One of the most satisfying parts of your job, apart from spinning around and introducing yourself as the manager [you are not the manager] when someone demands to see the manager [who comes in once a month, looks around, and leaves again], is the whipped cream. The sound of it and the little pattern it makes just itches a scratch.

You smile as you finish the swirl, which sinks into the cup of espresso shots and caramel milk. You spin around, “now he’s thinkin’ ‘bout me every night, oh…”

“Is it that sweet? I guess so,” you hum under your breath, and ducking the spray bottle Lou Ellen launches over your head, you stick a straw in the cup and walk to the bench, where Will’s serving the man with three purse dogs a jelly donut.

Leo’s digging through his bag while you wait, not bothering to rush him and leave the 24/7 rip off starbucks diner empty.

You pick up the pen and take the lid off with your teeth, doodling a little cat on the blank bit of the cup. The tail comes out all wrong, and one of the whiskers slides halfway around on the plastic with a scratchy sound.

You add rushed fairy wings to its soft looking back, and hand the cup over as Sabrina Carpenter sings about being a singer. Her voice is so pretty. Like caramel. “There you go.”

Leo grinned at you, and while you watched in absolute horror, proceeded to pour an entire monster energy drink he’d pulled from his tote bag into the perfectly made coffee.

“Excuse me?” you whisper shrieked.

He blinked at you owlishly, and you tried not to notice how warm his eyes looked in the vintage yellow lights of the shop that made everything seem seventies. “What?”

“That’s enough caffeine and chemicals to give a water buffalo a heart attack,” you said, pointing at his awful concoction. It started to fizz. You wondered if the building had chemical reaction insurance.

“I’ve got a lot of work to do,” Leo shrugged, and picked up his cup happily. He looked down at it, and a grin split across his face. “I got a drawing!”

»»————-　★　————-««

It was only a few days later when the bell rattled quietly by the door and you looked up to see Leo and smiled despite yourself, fingers tapping on the cup in your hand, wear the ring you’d made from that paperclip sat, did you realize what role he would play in your heart shaped ice-cubes Sabrina Carpenter soundtracked paperback books late night set ballpoint pen sitcom.

The love interest.

»»————-　★　————-««

#leo valdez x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #leovaldez #leo valdez #leovaldezxreader #leo valdez pjo #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez x you #the heroes of olympus #leo valdez x y/n

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604to647 · 8 months

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Safest with You - Ch. 3 (The Drycleaner)

3.2K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You listen to a sign from the universe and it leads you to Din.

Warnings: Some pining and then more fluff 💕 although Reader is a bit of menace as she straight up ogles Din like a piece of meat 😂, brief mention of female masturbation, reader is described as shorter than Din, first use of pet name “Pretty Bird”.

A/N: The series is slow but sometimes falling in love be like that. I pinned a series masterlist, so you can always jump to the smutty one shots that happen later in the timeline when these two are in an established relationship if you need a fix. The fact that Din boxes is 100% attributed to @djarinsbeskar's Boxer!Din AU which was the very first Din fic AU I ever read on Tumblr and remains one of my favourites and one I revisit often; making Din a former boxer/owner of a boxing gym is my small but humble homage to Rachel's genius. Also from that same AU is this piece of art from one of my favourite artists, @kate-komics that I think about often also. Thank you both for the inspiration!

“He bought you books?!?”

“Well, technically, he bought us all books.”

The whole table laughs; your friends were delighted when you handed out the books, but they’re entralled at the background story that comes with.

“And he didn’t leave you his number or anything?”

“No! Told the cashier he didn’t want to want me to feel ‘obligated’.”

“It’s okay, babe. We’ll find him,” nods Katie, whipping out her phone.

Bea starts typing on her phone as well, “Right. He said his name is Din? How do you spell that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it short for something?”

“I don’t know.”

“How old is he?”

“I don’t know. 40s? He’s greying,” you picture Din’s soft curls and bury your face in your hands, “it looks so fucking good on him.”

“Where does he work?”

“I don’t know. Not downtown.”

“Well, what does he do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Babe. What do you know?”

“I know his coffee order is Ice Quad Expresso in a Venti cup with extra ice and six shots.”

“Ok, so we know he probably has a heart condition.”

Everyone bursts out laughing. Your friends have good reason to be so enthusiastic – it’s been ages since someone has caught your eye. You don’t date a lot, and that’s always been your preference. You have a picky temperament to begin with, but the truth is, you’re happy and at peace with the way your life is now after years of hard work. There simply hasn’t been room or a need for a partner, and your friends don’t push you to date (except Jen who always reminds you that there’s a guy at her firm she wants to set you up with, but even that’s more in good fun than anything). But right now, you look flushed and besotted over this stranger; positively smitten. They love it for you.

After a few minutes, no one has found anything on social media, any dating apps or Google – admittedly, there wasn’t much (anything?) to go on, but you’ve seen these girls work internet detective miracles before.

Oh well.

You sigh, “I need to get drunk and forget him. Or painfully obsess over every detail I can remember.”

And you all cheers to that.

---

Huh.

A week later on the Saturday, you’re out running errands, and you find yourself standing in front of your drycleaner which has unexpectedly closed. A handwritten sign in the window reads: “Emergency Closure. Reopening to be announced.”

The drycleaner’s is supposed to be your first stop of the day and you don’t really feel like carting your dirty clothes with you to run the rest of your errands. Moreover, you’ll need a few of the items in the coming weeks. You take out your phone to look up other drycleaners in the area when something in your mind clicks: Peli’s Drycleaning on 14th. You search it and see it actually exists, and has a pretty good rating to boot. But, it’s sort of out of your way, not really in the same area you’re in at all.

You shouldn’t go.

Should you go?

And what if you do? Do you… ask about Din? That’s weird.

But you’ve been thinking about him non-stop all week: daydreaming about his soft smile during your work commute, remembering the flex of his strong hand covering yours as you answer emails, getting lost in thoughts of his big brown eyes while out walking the dog. You flush at the memory of touching yourself in bed while recalling his deep and rich voice. Every attempt to forget your handsome Quad Ice over the past week has utterly failed.

Eff it. What are the chances that you unexpectedly need a new drycleaner, and it happens to be the only thing tangentially related to Din that you know? Maybe the universe is trying to help you out.

Before you can characteristically overthink it, you flag down a cab and give the driver the address you looked up; your heart pounds the entire ride over.

When you step into drycleaner’s, a little bell above the door jingles to signal your arrival, and a short woman with a huge amount of curly dark hair appears from the back. You think she might be Peli, but you can’t be sure; she gives you a huge smile and gestures to take in your clothes. Finding her to be super friendly and chatty, the two of you make easy small talk as she neatly lists out your items by hand on her notepad. When she gets to the coffee stained skirt, she lets out a low whistle, “Oof. Been there, done that!” she quips. You decide this is probably the best opening you’ll get, “Actually, that coffee stain is probably why I’m here. Someone saw it and recommended your place.” Peli raises her eyebrow as you press on, “His name is Din, he said he’s a friend of the owner?”

This gets her attention; the woman stops what she’s doing and studies you with great interest. Her face breaks out into an impossibly wide smile and she exclaims loudly, “Din sent you, eh? And he said we were friends?” she lets out a deep belly laugh, “Babysat him when he was a kid, but yep we’re friends. Ha! Hi, I’m Peli!” She shakes your hand as you introduce yourself. “He said to mention his name and you would try harder not to lose my clothes,” you joke.

“That scamp!” chortles Peli, “Don’t worry! We’ll take good care of you! You know… because of Din.” She rolls her eyes good naturedly.

“Of course. Because of Din,” you grin back, “So…does he send a lot of… people who need drycleaning, your way?”

“Nope! You’re the first! And honestly, now that I think about it, why hasn’t he been sending me more business?”

You figure it’s now or never, “Do you know where I could find him?”

If possible, Peli brightens even more at your question, “Oh yeah, for sure! At this time of day, he’ll be at his gym. It’s about 2 blocks that way,” she points in the direction for you, “can’t miss it! Big sign that says ‘Mando’s Gym’.”

Peli finishes taking down your information for the clothes and lets you know when everything can be ready. You give her an enthusiastic thanks; when opening the door to leave, you have a moment of hesitation, but looking back, you find Peli already pointing in the direction of the gym. You give her a smiling nod and head that way.

---

Peli was right. You can’t miss the sign; it sits atop of a standalone three story building that’s set further back on its lot. The front area of the lot looks like it might have once been a driveway of sorts, but is now used as a parking lot; a handful of parked cars lets you know the gym is fairly busy today. The front of the building has giant windows that look like garage doors and makes you think that the building might have once been a mechanic repair shop; from the little of what you can see inside, you think the gym occupies the first floor of the building and possibly the second. The big set of garage door windows are separated in the middle by an entry way that you walk through, slightly nervous. Once inside, you see a reception but currently no one behind the small desk; instead, you peek around the partition wall behind the desk and see that the space opens up to a clean, spacious room that has about 8-10 people working out on various machines and punching bags lining the walls, all leading to a larger group of people clustering near the boxing ring centered at the back of the room.

You’re making your way towards the back, scanning over the group looking for Din when you spot him, right in the middle of the ring. He’s got his gloved hands up, blocking part of his head, but you can still tell it’s him; when you hear him shouting encouraging words to his sparring partner, his familiar voice sends a shiver up your spine. He’s wearing a sweat drenched grey t-shirt and his hair is messy and wet from his work out, but he looks even better than you remember.

Actually, he looks fucking delicious. From this angle you can see the cut of his jawline and how it tightens as his grunts and pants. His arms are flexed from his forearms up to his biceps, and are so muscular they’re straining hard against his shirt sleeves. You must be straight up ogling him because you don’t even realize when Din notices you; you’re too busy looking at his legs and admiring how his thighs fill out his navy blue shorts so snugly. You only look up when those same legs start walking in your direction and come to a stop at the edge of the ring. Din is leaning towards you against the rope with a heart-stopping smile, “It’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me,” you grin, repeating back his words to you from the bookstore.

Din thinks he must be dreaming, or maybe he’s been knocked in the head one too many times today. He had just paused the fight to show Jimmy the new combination again, when he looked over to see the prettiest sight. You, standing in his gym, soft and dainty, with a wide eye expression on your face. You’re looking in his direction, but when you don’t make eye contact with him immediately, Din allows himself the smug thought that you might be liking what you see and puffs his chest out a little before making his way over to you.

Now you’re looking at him with that same pretty smile that he hasn’t been able to get out of his head for the last week, and he can’t wait to talk to you again, “Are you okay to wait for 5 minutes? We’re just finishing up this training session.”

You nod agreeably, “Sure, I can wait.” There’s a bench running along the right side of the ring where you take a seat to better enjoy the show. You’ve never seen boxing up close before, so you don’t know what to expect, but you find yourself mesmerized by everything Din is doing in the ring. All his movements are intentional and graceful; he’s in total control of every motion he makes: ducking, blocking, punching. His muscles are all flexed and his shirt stretches tight, barely containing them as if Din himself is an extension of the explosive power harnessed in his fists. The legs that you were drooling over earlier are quick and agile; it’s true you don’t know his age but his sparring partner looks to be in his mid-20s and Din is having no problem out maneuvering him.

As he circles the other fighter, you think you spy some ink on a flash of some exposed skin and the idea of exploring what’s underneath Din’s shirt has you swallowing hard. In short, you can’t take your eyes off of him.

The 5 minutes is action packed and over before you know it. In one continuous smooth motion, Din ducks under the rope, jumps down and grabs a fresh towel from a stack on the other end of the bench you’re sitting on before sliding over to sit next to you. He looks at you almost bashfully as he towels off his hair and wipes the sweat from his brow and neck. You think you could get used to seeing him like this: cheeks pink from exercise, bright eyes glued to yours and a grin so wide it reveals a deep dimple in his right cheek that you’re discovering for the first time. He’s taking your breath away and you haven’t even been back in his presence for more than 10 minutes.

“What brings you to this part of town today, pretty bird?”

If anyone else had bestowed a pet name on you so soon after having met, you would have immediately gotten the ick, but the endearment rolling off Din’s tongue sounds so natural and sweet, it has you melting, “Some handsome guy bought me a thick stack of books and then made it nearly impossible for me to thank him. Tracked him down to this gym.”

“Handsome guy, eh?”

“Yep. Real handsome. And sweet. You know anyone around here like that?” you tease.

Handsome. You think he’s handsome. Din thinks his heart is in danger of no longer fitting in his chest. He holds his hand up to his brow, as if to shield his eyes from the light, and mines looking around gym in an exaggerated manner, “Nope. Just a bunch of smelly, sweaty ruffians. Owner’s a handsome guy though, maybe you’re looking for him,” he says, eyes twinkling.

“You own this gym?”

“Sure do. Used to be my dad’s.”

“Well, he would be proud of you and what you’ve done here, Din. It looks great.” You mean it, and you look around the gym with a renewed sense of awe now that you know Din is the one responsible for its operations.

Din’s not sure how you knew the exact thing to say to make his heart swell, but he knows without a doubt that you’re being genuine and he is reminded again of your kind nature.

You look back to see Din looking at you with a soft expression and before you let yourself get lost in his eyes, you force yourself to pull it together, “Oh Din! I can’t believe I didn’t say this right away: Thank you!! Thank you for the books. It was so incredibly unexpected and sweet! My friends also say thank you – a few of the books you bought were for them.”

“You’re very welcome. Have you enjoyed the books?”

You’re warmed by how thoughtful Din is, and you let him know the books are turning out to be great and you and your friends can’t believe how long you’ll have to wait for the next instalment to come out.

“Do you have plans to read tonight, or would you happen to be free?”

Even though you had been hoping that Din would ask you out, your heart leaps into your throat now that it’s happening. “I think I should be! If I finish up this list of errands I’m supposed to get to today, that is. Giving Peli my drycleaning was only the first item,” you lament.

“Peli! Is that how you found me? Clever girl.”

You beam at Din’s praise. You realize you haven’t explained how you knew where he was, “As luck would have it, my regular drycleaner was unexpectedly closed. Nearly derailed my whole errand day until I remembered you mentioning you had a friend who ran a drycleaning business. Something else I need to thank you for.”

“I’m glad I could help. Well, if you have a bunch of errands you have to finish before you can go out with me tonight, I’m going to scoot you out of here right now so you don’t cancel. Scoot!” Din adds a silly shooing motion with his hands as he says this, so you know he’s not seriously trying to get rid of you. You giggle, but nod, eager to get on with your tasks so that your date with Din might come sooner.

Din asks you if you need a ride, but you tell him you’ll be fine and jokingly scoff, “Hey! I don’t want you putting off your work and then backing out either, mister.”

“Not a chance,” grins Din.

As you walk together towards the front of the gym, Din lets you know how much he’s been thinking about you, “I’m really glad you came to here today. I was about to camp out everyday at the coffeeshop in the morning and then that bookstore in the afternoon until I found you again.”

“Who would have looked after the gym if you did that?”

Din looks around at the gym; some of the boxers and staff that had been watching the two of you look away quickly and pretend to busy themselves to avoid being caught staring. “Shoot. This place probably would have burned down. Looks like you just saved the gym.”

You can’t help but giggle again and Din feels a growing sense of pride in being able to make you laugh. “How about tonight I take you out to dinner as a thank you?”

Giving him an incredulous look, you answer, “I should be taking you out to dinner to thank you.”

“I don’t think so, pretty bird.”

The pet name shoots straight to your core again.

Din stretches himself up to his full height and looks down at you with mock stern expression, cocking his eyebrow.

You can’t say you’re at all intimidated even though he towers over you; you’ve long since felt that Din’s company spelled safety. But to play along, you counter by looking up at him with your biggest pleading eyes. Din is instantly disarmed and knows in this moment that he will never be able to refuse you anything.

He suggests a compromise, “How about we go for dinner and fight about the check there?”

“Ok. But just so you know, I’m not used to losing,” you challenge playfully.

“Me neither.” Din tilts his head slightly to draw your attention to the wall you’re standing next to. It’s the other side of the divider wall you rounded when you came in, and you see that it’s covered with awards, certificates, and articles lauding Din’s boxing accomplishments.

Amazed, you skim over the honours and achievements, “This is you? Wow – you’re incredible Din! …9 times weight division champion? Oh man, now I don’t know if I can take you.”

“I bet you could,” from the look on Din’s face, you’re sure that the double meaning is meant as a tease, but you can’t help squirming a little.

Blushing, you relent, “Ok, you can pay for dinner. But I still have to thank you for the books.”

Din is finding your persistence on this point to be adorable, “Your ‘thanks’ is enough. No need to feel like you owe me; it was a gift.”

“I know. I just have an outrageous sense of reciprocity. I really do want to find a way to thank you somehow.” You reach up and put your hand on Din’s shoulder to hold yourself steady as you lift up onto your toes and kiss him on the cheek. Despite having just gone who knows how many rounds in the ring, he smells incredible and you can’t help but linger your lips on his cheek. You exhale softly and hold Din’s gaze as you slowly lower down to your normal height.

Din looks as affected as you feel, “Remind me to buy you some more books.”

Both of you laugh, now giddy about the prospect of seeing each other again in a few hours. You exchange numbers and Din promises to text you later with the address of the restaurant he’ll meet you at tonight.

Heading down the street, heart aflutter and fingers trembling with excitement, you take out your phone and text the group chat: I found him.

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #modern au #no y/n

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bullet-prooflove · 3 months

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Viral: Roy Kent x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989

References to Distance - Roy gets into trouble while you’re away.

You find out Roy’s in love with you when you open up TikTok and see a remix video of him shoving a microphone out of his face and saying the words “I fucking love her don’t I?”

It ends up trending on Twitter.

“Did you forget to mention something last night?” You ask him when he eventually drags himself out of bed. His unruly curls are jutting out in all directions and he’s wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts that cling to him in all the right places.

It takes a minute for the question to filter through to his brain. He’d come to bed with a migraine last night and he’s still feeling the effects of it this morning. He puts a coffee pod in the Tassimo machine before the words finally hit him. He knows it’s a trick question because the last time you’d asked him…

He’d neglected to mention he’d head butted your ex at a Save the Polar Bears event.

“No?” He says, picking up the expresso he’s just made and wincing as he sips from it.

You push your phone across the table towards him and he frowns when he picks it up, his own voice blaring in his ears as he watches the remix.

I fucking love her don’t I? I fucking love her don’t I? I fucking love her don’t I?

He plays the evening back in his head. The appearance he’d had to make at the sponsor event, stepping outside to take a breath because he could feel a migraine building in his temples, being assailed by what felt like a thousand flashes going off in his face.

There have been questions about your relationship ever since that picture ran in the paper, the one of you kissing him on the doorstep before you left for Ireland. It had been an absolutely filthy kiss, one that’s getting him hard just thinking about it. He remembers your hand running through his hair, grasping his curls before he’d tugged you back into the house and fucked you in the hallway.

“You know that’s the first time you’ve said it.” You say quietly as he pushes the phone back towards you.

“No.” He says, his palm rubbing over the back of his neck as he takes the seat across from you. “No I’ve said it…”

You give him a look and he realises…

Maybe he hasn’t.

But he’s certainly felt it, he has for a while now. His days, they’re brighter with you in it. He smiles more, laughs more, he swears more but that’s because you’re so fucking good at that thing you do with your tongue…

“Come here.” He says softly, patting his lap and you find yourself complying because you really can’t deny this man anything, not with his wild bedhead and unshaven cheeks.

His forehead comes to rest upon yours, his thumb chasing along the line of your jaw.

“I love you.” He whispers, his dark eyes locked on yours. “I fucking love you.”

Love Roy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#roy kent #roy kent x you #roy kent x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso (tv)#ted lasso series #ted lasso tv #brett goldstein

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equallyshaw · 7 months

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star crossed lovers, pt 2 | connor bedard

↳ oc hughes sister x connor bedard x brendan brisson + blurb + tiny insta post

↳ au masterlist!

takes place in 2026 with a connor sighting!

warnings: swearing

word count: 4.7K

Two households, both alike in dignity...

oh that love story that was too good to be true, so beautiful and soft and wholesome; was never meant to last. romeo and juliet had truly run their course it seemed. though originally, weren't they destined to be together forever, and never see the fate that the original story predicted?

maybe her brothers were right, kailey thought as soon as it happened. he dug the sword deep into her heart, twisted, and then pulled away. it was if they'd never been together. as if they hadn't spent the last three years together.

but was it the end for miss hughes? was it the end of her journey in finding love with a powerful and notable name within the world of hockey?

◦

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume.

kailey pushed jack a bit as soon as entered the kitchen in the townhouse her two brothers shared in jersey. she quickly made her way over to the coffee machine and put a nespresso pod in, smiling once the humming of the machine began. she pulled out her phone and opened connor's message that popped up, and she wished she hadn't. she stared at the screen, allowing it to fade to black. "kails!" jack said hurrying over and putting a towel down, as the expresso spilled over the too small cup. she didn't move. he looked down at her, not understanding why she wasn't moving. he sighed, wiping the counter in front of her, before he heard her whisper. "he broke up with me." jack thought his mind was playing tricks on him, "funny kails." he said turning around to finish making his breakfast. "he br-broke up with me." she said again, louder and more clear. he looked back at her before taking two steps to catch her as she fell backwards, out of shock. he quickly brought her to the ground, holding her closely as she sobbed.

24 hours ago, the two were planning on what they wanted to do for their almost 1 year anniversary.

how could things change in 24 hours?

luke rushed in as soon as he heard sobs, and the look that jack gave him was more than he needed, he knew exactly what happened. the three brothers couldn't have seen this coming from a mile away, they didn't see this happening. ever. they thought that connor was the one, that one that made it past their hard exteriors. the one that had made his way into all of the hughes hearts.

oh how the universe and shakespeare could be so cruel.

◦

thankfully, kailey was finished with school and had graduated a few weeks before the breakup. so she thought long and hard on where she wanted to be, and who she wanted to be. dawning a new hair color and a will to pull herself out of heartbreak, she settled on sunny california. she moved to redondo beach in los angeles county, moving in with her cousin maya - a longtime family friend of the hughes that dated back to her mom's hockey days at college. the three brothers were crushed to see her leaving so early in the summer, and forgoing the lake house in michigan but she knew she needed to go. or else she'd never leave.

it was around 3 months later, late july when kailey reunited with a very old family friend. brendan brisson, out of the blue showed up at her and maya's apartment for a sunday brunch they were throwing. he came with his brother, and at first they did not recognize her because of her new hair color. since she'd been in california, she hadn't had the inkling or draw to post anything on social media. hence, people were relatively concerned as to what she was up to. sure, her family knew through text messages and private snapchats, but other than that- she'd ghosted the world. she also got off Instagram and twitter, not relishing in the fact that connor was off seeing other people. mere carbon copies of the girl, pre brunette. she hated seeing people tag her in things, hated seeing it come up naturally because of how much she used to look up his name; for shits and giggles she used to say.

that sunday morning though, after grabbing a cup of coffee from redondo beach pier, and a walk up and down it- she retweeted something. which let me tell you, alerted the hockey world and hockey twitter. i mean, the sheer power they held when they were together was out of this world. two great hockey names - connected in a magical way, how could they not? people adored seeing them together and that retweet cemented the breakup, which people had been suspecting for some time. she redownloaded Instagram, archiving her pictures with connor, not able to part with them just yet. she then opened up her groupchat with the boys, ripping the canadian boy to shreds. she'd simply put him into an early grave, by her word choice. she woke up with a vengeance this morning, her brothers thought as 6 messages - paragraphs - came in. her brothers agreed with every last word she sent, they were absolutely dumbfounded and out of this world angry when connor broke up with her via text. and without cause. their original thoughts about guys came back in an instant. they would do everything in their power to steer away boys, if luck would have it. nobody would ever be good enough. though she was a california gal now, they couldn't protect her. though - as much as quinn hated to ask for a favor - the boys had asked trevor and alex keep tabs on her on that side of the coast. the two without hesitation agreed, with trevor making a joke at quinns expense.

they were hoping they could sleep a little easier at night.

but as soon as brendan saw her, he quickly pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. "oh my god - blondie! wait no." and kailey giggled, "you're good! i haven't really updated social media so you wouldn't have known." she smiled widely, before hugging jordan. "how do you know maya?" she asked, "new hampshire, remember?" jordan said and kailey grinned. "should have known. those were...uh the good days." she hummed, drinking her iced expresso. "let me show you to the kitchen." she said motioning for them to follow. they walked into the kitchen, the two looking at the buffet of food. "any coffee? i can make it right now." she smiled, and the two smiled. "im good, im gonna go find maya real quickly." he said walking away so now it was just jordan and the girl.

"how's school?" he asked, pulling her out of her trance. "great! i just graduated" she smiled, and he mirrored it. "congratulations, kails! what did you major in again?" he asked and she smiled, "child psychology." she hummed. his smile never faltered, "that would be you. i remember as kids how much you cared for kids on the lake, and they just flocked to you." he said and it was as if they were both brought back to that time when the days never seemed to end, and sunburns were a regular occurrence. "yeah..im very fortunate things worked out the way they did. gave me this wonderful opportunity to start fresh out here." she said sipping some more of her drink. "oh..yeah. totally understandable." he said picking up her drift, "you knew?" she asked and he nodded. "yeah...jack said something in the group chat when it happened. im sorry about everything, that was real shitty of him. you didnt deserve that." he said sweetly. she shrugged chugging down the rest of the coffee, "good thing I've got nobody watching my every move, anymore." she smirked, leaning closely towards brendan before sliding over the his cup of coffee.

◦

“Then I defy you, stars!”

jordan ended up leaving at some point in the afternoon, while brendan and kailey spent the day together catching up. the two had always been easy to get on with and used to be thick as thieves during the lake days. she'd never told any of her brothers - because god forbid if she did so - but she had had a crush on him for a few summers. it absolutely crushed her, when he got his first girlfriend in 8th grade and then they never came back to the lake house, so her crush disappeared. she'd never known this nor her brothers, but brendan too had had a crush on the girl.

the two sat on the white plush couch in the living room, as the sun was setting. maya had left some time ago to hang out with a friend and do some errands while kailey opted to stay in for the day. kailey and brendan were in the process of laughing, as kailey got a text message. she pulled up her phone from where it was laying on her thigh, and her demeanor visibly changed. it was a text from connor, asking why she retweeted the tweet this morning. brendan saw her eyebrows crease in confusion, before she shook her head and locked her phone. "let me guess..connor?" he questioned and she nodded. "the fucking nerve.." she sighed, pinching her nose. she stood up grabbing the two empty glasses from the coffee table, and made her way over to the kitchen. brendan followed, "the nerve he has! we've been broken up for three months already and he's upset i tweeted something about being respected by a significant other? whats so wrong about that? he's just upset because im calling him out for it, publicly at that." she said setting the cups in the sink. "don't i deserve respect?" she asked turning around to face the boy. he nodded, walking over to her and leaned against the counter. "you deserve that and so much more. he's got a stick up his ass, that's for sure." he began, "don't ever lower your standards because of him. he's an idiot. he's the one who did that, the one who double crossed you for no reason." he finished as kailey met his eye. "wish i heard that sooner." she hummed, crossing her arms over her chest. she looked down at the ground, "well...im saying it now. and i mean it." he said softly taking a step closer and lifted up her chin just a bit with his hand. she looked into his brown eyes. one's she adored as a kid, and now looking into his- something sparked within. a spark she hadn't felt for some time, long before connor. he took this as an invitation to close the gap between them.

oh, how the universe laughs. or hockey gods.

◦

it was now two weeks later, and brendan had kailey in his arms this early morning. the two had stayed up talking about anything and everything that came to their minds. they talked about their childhood, laughing over the fact that they both had crushes on one another but never suspected it. they smiled as the other one brought up conversations and significant memories, both happy that the other hadn't forgotten. this morning, she was savoring the warmth and comfort his body oozed, because he'd be starting back up early morning training again. he'd taken two weeks off due to a stress sprain, and now that it was fixed he would be resuming his schedule. "wanna see my parents today?" he softly asked, as he felt her beginning to hum from tiredness. she nodded her head, against his chest and he smiled. "they've been asking about you since i told them i was going to brunch." he hummed, and she slowly pulled her head up from his chest to look at him, "still the favorite hughes, eh?" she grinned before he leaned down to kiss her. his hand found the base of her neck, and the other found the base of her back. she wrapped her hands around his neck, getting as close as possible. they broke the kiss, resting their foreheads against one another.

kailey had a wave of deja vu, pass over her. making her nauseous.

she pulled away from brendan, pulling her phone to her chest, and saw a missed facetime from each of her brothers, and she sighed pressing quinns contact. she sat up, and inched away from brendan so he wouldn't be in the shot. "hey q, whats up?" she questioned, pulling him from whatever jack was saying. "hey uh, i take it you didn't see yet.." he said and that's when he heard jack yelling on the other end. "what do you mean q? why is jack yelling?" she said rubbing her eye, and quinn sighed sending her a screenshot of the instagram post. she clicked on his text and swallowed, anger seething from her. how could she betray her? her friend lisa from college in chicago was in connor's instagram post, somewhere in toronto. she quickly opened up instagram to lisa's page and she was even more angrier. she had been soft launching for almost 3 months already...that traitor. lisa was the one all along, the one that had been seen in pictures but kailey had never paid too much attention to the fact it was the same girl! she hung up on quinn, quickly locked her phone and turning on dnd. "whats wrong?" brendan asked, setting his phone down and pulling her into his chest as he sat up. "he-he's been seeing my friend from school." she said but she didn't cry. she was just angry, and disappointed. how naive she'd been. "im sorry kails." brendan said softly. he felt terrible for kailey, somebody he cared deeply about. and he knew she cared about him just as deeply. but maybe not in the way that he believed.

"lets just uh, lets get going. we should head over so were not late." she said pulling away and getting up to shower. she quickly took a body shower, hopping out to brush her teeth and moisturize before heading into her closet to find an outfit. brendan came up and wrapped his arms around her, as she inspected her outfit. they looked at one another in the mirror, as she finished inspecting, and she smiled once they found each other's gaze. "you ok?" he whispered, and she nodded giving him a small smile. "yes. thankyou for uh, being here with me these past two weeks. it means more than you'll ever know." she hummed, turning around in his arms. he grinned, leaning down and kissing her. deeply. she melted into his arms just a bit before pulling away. "lets get going b." she said pulling him out of her small walk in closet.

"kailey!" kim cheered, as the two walked through the doors of the brisson's manhattan beach mansion. "kim!" she smiled, disconnecting the twos hand as kim pulled her into a hug. kim swayed her just a bit, "oh my goodness! we've missed you so much sweetie, congratulations on graduating! i saw the pictures, they were just perfect." she said pulling back a bit and kailey smiled. "thankyou! had the best photographer." she hummed and kim smiled. "your mom has always been a fucking gem when it comes to pictures. they were just to die for and chicago being the backdrop? timeless." she fawned and kailey giggled. "thankyou!" she smiled, seeing mr brisson walk from the kitchen. "kiwi!" he yelled with a huge grin on his face, and kim let go of the girl. "pat! so good to see you." she smiled as he pulled her in for a hug. "you too! congrats on graduating, heard you finished with honors." he said pulling away, and kailey nodded. "yep! perfect 4.0. to which jack sent 4 dollars exactly, as his gift." she joked, causing the family to laugh. pat shook his head as he could just picture jack doing it, and so could kim. "your hair! oh my god! i love it, it looks so good." kim smiled, looking over the girl. kailey smiled, "thankyou! thought a little change could be good." she hummed and the brissons nodded. "well, breakfast just finished lets go eat!" pat offered and the three nodded. "good, im starvin!" kailey said rubbing her hands together, "good, we made your favorite!" kim said wrapping an arm around the girls shoulders, making her feel right at home. again.

Kailey and brendan ended up staying the full day at the brissons, catching up and reminiscing over the lake days. it was around 7 when jordan and brisson begged kailey to go get froyo and walk the pier at santa monica. "go! have fun, we'll get together soon." kim smiled, and kailey nodded hugging the two goodbye and then they were off. kailey got in the passenger side, and jordan got in the back. kailey quickly leaned into brendans shoulder, and there hands found each others as well. she looked back at jordan, and he quickly snapped a picture. she rolled her eyes with a small grin on her face. the three sat through traffic, singing loudly to whatever music she put on shuffle. a little bit of everything, which the boys loved. they finally made their way to santa monica and parked right in front of the frozen yogurt place. after that, they walked down to the pier and she stopped at one of the shops that was selling books and other knickknacks, getting a book to read at some point. they walked down the pier for the next hour, with brendan taking a sunset pic of the girl with her book who had the biggest smile of her face, at whatever dumb joke jordan had just said. on their way back to her apartment in redondo beach, she posted that sunset picture on her instagram story.

it broke hockey twitter.

"im gonna walk her in and then ill be out." brendan said to jordan who nodded, and the two got out. he walked her up to the townhouse, two blocks over from the pier. "thanks for today brendan, i had a lot of fun." she smiled, turning towards him at the door. "me too, thanks for being a trooper. i thought my parents would never stop talking." he joked, and she grinned. "no i loved it, it felt like home. like old times. it was comforting. with my parents being far, it's nice knowing that they are out here." she hummed and he nodded. "im glad." he smiled. she could tell he wanted to say more to her, but was fighting himself on how to begin. "just say whatever it is you want to say." she said grinning, pulling her free hand in his. he blushed, looking at the ground. "these past two weeks have been...everything i'd wanted since we were little younglings. and i don't want to go back to vegas in a few weeks, not knowing what we are or if we might have missed an opportunity....to see where things might go." he said looking up at her with hopeful eyes. she bit her lip, thinking hard. she liked brendan, and always had secretly; but was she ready to date again? she didn't want to become the laughingstock of the NHL family sphere. going from one player to the next, but shouldn't she at least attempt to move on? even if it was with another player?

brendan saw the hesitation in her features, and accepted defeat. he was about to say something but kailey spoke up. "i want nothing more than to say yes but what will my brothers say? what will the hockey world say? going from one guy to the next? i don't want to become the laughingstock, besides- my brothers don't deserve that. they don't deserve to take any heat from or about me. besides..i don't want to ruin our years-long friendship b." she said hoping he understood, and he did. "give me a few days, let me go take some time in chicago and ill let you know. ok?" she said with a pleading look. he nodded softly, "thankyou." she said pulling him in for a hug. her arms found his neck, his arms found her back; drawing her in as close as possible. incase, he'd never have her in his arms again.

◦

she arrived in chicago two days later, her best friend becca from college and lukas reichels' fiance, as well as alex vlasics wife tessa were waiting for her at the pickup area. she strolled her suitcase and carry on towards the arrivals area, and smiled widely when she saw the two holding a small bouquet of peonies and a dunkin coffee. they jumped up and down, as they saw her. she began to jog over towards them before they wrapped their arms around one another. "oh my god!!" kailey shrieked when they held out her iced americano and flowers towards her, while tessa took her bag and suitcase. "guyssss im gonna cry." she said with tears in her eyes. "we couldn't come empty handed." tessa cooed, as she wrapped an arm around the girl, with kailey taking the gifts from becca. the three girls walked out to the car that was waiting at the curb, that sat alex and lukas. "oh my god!" she said smiling widely when she saw the two leaning against the audi. "kails!" lukas said smiling and quickly hugging her, and then alex joined creating a group hug. tessa snapped a quick picture as kailey just laughed. "thankyou guys for coming to get me, i appreciate it very much." she smiled widely, as lukas opened the door for her and tessa. "you are very welcome hughesy." alex grinned as he opened the other door for becca. "where to first?" she quipped.

the three girls headed towards becca's and lukas' guest bedroom in their chicago townhouse, ready to bombard the girls with questions over her california life. kailey had been awfully quiet the past month and they were curious what had been going on. "girl! what have you been up to?? we wanna know everything!" tessa squeled as she shut the door behind them. kailey blushed while throwing a small smile towards her best friends. "did you meet a guy??" becca smirked, and kailey shrugged. "did he take the one sunset pic?" tessa joined in, sitting across from kailey on the bed. kailey grinned, "I've known him for sometime now....I've known him since we were kids." she began and the girls looked at one another. "who is it?" becca asked. "brendan brisson." she stated, and the two girls thought about who that could be. "wait! was he at usntp?" tessa questioned, and kailey nodded. "oh my god i remember him! isnt his dad like THE agent in hockey? doesn't he work with your dad?" tessa rambled and kailey giggled. "yes...we arent like officially together but somethings there. i just don't know if i want to pursue it. like, i don't want people to create narratives that were never true to begin with." she said putting her face in her hands, feeling defeated. "to hell with what everybody says. if you're happy and you see something with him, go for it." becca said and kailey shrugged. "but my brothers....what are they gonna think? they're gonna kill me." she said tessa forehead creased, "do they not know that you two have been spending time together?" tessa questioned and kailey shook her head. tessa and becca looked at one another, sharing silent words.

she spent the next week in chicago, reminiscing and growing fond of the memories she'd made the past four years. they caught up, spent quality time together and thankful that nothing from her past had shown up or crossed paths with the three girls. kailey did not need that, at all. she face timed nightly with brendan, him curious at to what shenanigans that three were getting up to. she'd been to 2 concerts, numerous museum trips, countless trips up and down the lakefront, and shopping galore. kailey woke up around 8 am, getting herself put together before heading down stairs. she jogged down the steps, and headed to the kitchen. it was too late, before she realized who was in the kitchen. lukas and connor were laughing at something, that happened at a gym session that morning.

connor caught the footsteps on the stairs first, and then the brunette hair second. he did a double-take, before realizing it was kailey. kailey was on the phone with brendan, before she spotted connor and froze. "ill uh, ill call you back." she said hanging up before brendan could respond. "morning kails." lukas said sipping some coffee, curious to see what was going to happen. "morning lukas." she hummed, heading to the fridge to grab a bottle of water, and her breakfast from the day before. she quietly worked as the two hockey players looked at each other, "ill be right back. im gonna take penny outside." lukas said calling for the small dog, and now it was just the two.

"how have you been?" connor asked as she put the food in the microwave. kailey took a few seconds to respond before turning around. oh, how good he looked. curse the hockey gods. his hair was still wet from the shower, his blue eyes meeting hers and what felt like a sense of deja vu washed over the girl. "I've been good. you?" she questioned, heading over to the expresso machine and began to mess around with the machine. she banged the expresso on the counter, before sliding it into the spot to pour over. "yeah real good. just got back to the city a week ago." he responded, and she nodded. "that's real nice." she hummed, as the microwave beeped. "hows california?" he asked and she sighed, pulling the container out. "its been nice. beautiful as always." she hummed, pulling a few pieces of hair behind her ear. she looked back up at him, "been doing everything i haven't been able to do for a few years." she said, a dig at the boy. he nodded feeling dread wash over him, as her phone began to ring again. she looked over at where it was on the counter, and she let it go to voice mail. she'd text brendan at some point. "hows lisa?" she quipped, biting into her burrito. connor swallowed tensely, "shes good. just started at lurie children's hospital." he said and hailey nodded. "that's nice." she hummed, walking over to the finished expresso and brought it back over to her food.

connor and kailey's tension could be cut through with a knife. even then, it might not even work. "when did you change your hair?" he asked, a few minutes later. "right after you texted me, I thought id try on a different personality." she said sarcastically, "apparently the last one wasn't good enough." she hummed, picking up her container, coffee and phone. connor sighed, "kails-" she cut him off, by turning back to him with a glare. "don't you ever call me that again, so help me god connor." she spat. he was defeated, he knew that much. she turned back and headed back upstairs.

oh how she loathed that boy, who threw away almost 2 years of pure bliss. pure romance. something out of this world. kailey did find out what changed, in those 24 hours and swore she'd place a dagger in their hearts at some point. his last words mere hours before, echoed his love, pure and committed adoration for the blonde. but like life, it can change in a mere moment.

“Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change.”

◦

kailey sat down on the airplane, about to depart chicago and bring her to sunny los angeles. oh how she'd missed her home, and somebody that was waiting ever so patiently for her to return. she smiled, posting her photo dump from the summer. her first post since march. she deleted her instagram after responding to a few comments, allowing for the chaos to consume the hockey fandom. she turned her phone on airplane, drowning herself with music for the next 4 hours, not daring to look at the messages waiting for her when she landed.

“Don't waste your love on somebody, who doesn't value it.”

◦

oh, what the universe and all of its stars had instore for the young hughes and the bright superstar.

@kaileyclara: little bit of this, little bit of that.

tags: tessavlasic, beccamuprhy, jordanbrisson and laurenorlando

@trevorzegras: wait a min @jackhughes: wait a damn minute @kaileyclara: can yall leave @trevorzegras: no im too busy inspecting every single detail of this post

@_quinnhughes: hughes sighting! @kaileyclara: hehe

@lhughes_6: who gave u flowers @kaileyclara: idk @jackhughes: to the gc! @_quinnhughes: already there @kaileyclara: i hate yall

@tessavlasic: I loved having you here bestie, i need to come out soon! @kaileyclara: i second this!

@beccamurphy: loml returned ! @kaileyclara: i thought that was lukas? @beccamurphy: he's my second love @lukasreichel: alright.

@brendanbrisson: im here for the hair @jordanbrisson: so am i @jackhughes: im not @kaileyclara: fuck off

@mayaaa: maybe u r a slut @kaileyclara: and that would be a fucking lie ! @mayaaa: 😚😚

@adamfantilli: orlando sighting? @kaileyclara: yes! toronto days hit hard @laurenorlando: still salty you guys moved @kaileyclara: me too @johnnyorlando: absolutely rude

hope you all enjoyed it, please like and reblog if you did-- id appreciate it very very much🥺 oh, and ofc i will have one more part to finish up this little series (:

mutuals from previous part : @privatemythss @boldysswld @trevorzegrizz @jayda12 @simp4hughes @skatesnstuff @slafgoalskybaby @cuttergauthier

#connor bedard #connor bedrd imagine #connor bedard blurb #nhl #hockey #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #chicago blackhawks #brendan brisson #umich hockey #umich wolverines #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes

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axelsagewrites · 4 months

Note

Hello. Could I request a fic with f reader working at Richmond and Jan Maas faling in love with reader. Just fluff. ❤️

Jan Maas*Sweet As You

Pairing: Jan Maas x f!reader

Word count: 1134

Warnings: pure fluff

Masterlist here

There were definite perks and draw backs of working at Richmond. On one hand as a receptionist, you got paid to do honestly not very much. However, on the other hand you had to deal with a weird amount of prank calls from football fans.

One recently developing perk was the free coffee you received every morning. No, it wasn't a company thing or from your boss or other colleagues. Every morning this week Jan Maas walked in with a black coffee in one hand and an iced caramel mocha latte with an extra shot of expresso in the other.

It all started when you happened to walk into work at the same time and he noticed the Starbucks cup in your hand. "Is that even coffee at this point?" He half teased half seriously wondered.

"It is coffee," you said, drawing out the words as you defended yourself as Jan opened the front door for you, "caffeine not enough for me. I need that sugar high to deal with you lot,"

Jan chuckled at you, walking you over to the desk where your coworker pretended not to be listening in. "Funny. I thought you were sweet enough. See you later," he said, walking away to leave you a blushing mess.

However as soon as he got out of sight Jan became equally as flustered as he realised what he'd said. What was worse was Sam hearing him muttering under his breath about it resulting in Sam telling all the guys who then set up a plan to teach Jan how to flirt.

The issue was he wasn't very good at it. Instead, every morning without fail he got your coffee for you. "Hey Jan," you called, rolling down your car window as you slowed down. It was 7am and he was walking to Richmond with two coffees in hand, "need a lift?"

Jan preferred to walk. He'd never really seen the big deal around cars. However, he was quick to accept your offer. "My coffees will bankrupt you," you joked as you accepted the drink before resuming your drive.

"Don’t worry about it," he laughed, "your worth the money,"

"Think you can buy my affection? “you teased as you were pulling into Richmond.

"Maybe," he said it quietly, his eyes darting away before back to yours. "Is it working?" He asked.

You turned the car off, taking a long sip out your coffee while pretending to think about it, "I think it might be," you finally said, a smile on your lips and a large grin on his. "Throw in a pastry next time and I'm yours,"

When people saw you get out the same car there were some rumours to say the least. Another drawback of the job. However, another perk was walking in right now with a coffee and a suspiciously sweet-smelling brown bag.

"I wasn't sure which to get so I picked whichever looked the sweetest," he said as he placed the bag down.

"You know me so well," you grinned, "thanks though. Take it you don't have time to have one before practise?" You asked despite knowing he didn’t, but you couldn't help but try.

Your smile plus the way your eyelashes batted had Jan Maas willing to pay the late fee. "I suppose one wouldn't hurt," he said as he moved to sit on the edge of the reception desk as you offered him a pastry, "You should make Stroopkoeken with me one day. You'd like them,"

"What are they?" You asked, not realising how adorable Jan thought your head tilt was in your confusion.

"They're like a Carmel biscuit. My mum would make them for me growing up. Better than any Starbucks pastry," he joked, “But you have to make them from scratch to get the best experience,”

“You’ll have to teach me some time,” you smiled back and is if on queue his phone began ringing.

Jan deflated when he saw his teammates call, “I’ll need to go now. I’ll see you later,”

As he began to walk away you cringed before taking a deep breath, “Wait!” you called making him stop in his tracks. “Are you free tomorrow night? Maybe we could try making those biscuits,” you offered with an awkward smile that he found insanely endearing.

A wide grin broke onto his face, “I’d love to. It’s a date,” he said before actually turning to go to practise, leaving you a grinning mess.

“A baking date is perfect!”

“Nah man you should go out to a restaurant for the first date,”

“Oh, what if you take her to Sam’s place for dinner first?”

“There’s a new bar up the street you could go to after,”

“What you gonna wear bruv?”

“Make sure you actually clean up. Chicks notice that kinda stuff,”

“Oh, you should get her flowers. Birds dig flowers,”

“And make sure when you go to kiss her- “

“Woah woah guys!” Jan said, standing up from the bench and pushing past his teammates who’d essentially jumped on him after practise when they found out why he was late, “It’s just a first date. Well, I think it’s a date. I said it’s a date, but people here don’t always mean date, oh god what if she doesn’t realise it’s a date?” Jan began to panic, turning to his equally clueless mates.

They were all panicking till a loud, “Oi,” stopped them, “Don’t listen to these pricks,” Roy told him after pretending not to care the whole time, “Shower, shave, tidy up, and calm down. She’ll know it’s a date since all you two do is flirt like some snot nosed teens,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Roy’s right,” Sam said, standing to put a hand on Jan’s shoulder, “You’ve got nothing to worry about,”

“Not what I said but alright,” Roy shrugged but this time he got ignored.

Well apart from Jamie who rolled his eyes before adding his own words of wisdom. “Yeah, mate just be yourself,”

The kitchen was now a mess, sugar spilt everywhere, and a pot that looked like it would never be clean again and of course a plate of perfectly made biscuits. “I don’t know how my mum made it look so easy,” Jan said.

You laughed as you reached up to wipe the flour off his forehead, “Yeah but they taste good so who cares,” you said, noticing the way his cheeks tinged pink whenever you touched him.

“They’re almost as sweet as you,” he smiled softly, brushing your hair out of your face making your own skin flush.

Enough was enough you thought, “So tell me something,” you said, Jan humming as he waited for you to ask, “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” you nearly whispered.

“I thought you’d never ask,”