#and then they flew off on a plane together. Parents

[demon-ness]

Most likely, at the time of the first meeting with Sonic, Tails was an orphan. So there was simply no reason for him to stay in the village (he probably lived in the village), so this duo went on an adventure together…

BUT I prefer the option that Sonic accidentally stole someone's child.

[puck-luck]

smutception | jack hughes

warnings: EXTREMELY META, elevator sex, oral (m! and f! receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, spit kink, dom/sub tones, thigh riding, attempted phone sex, cum on the body, slight degradation, name calling, masturbation, handjob, squirting, tittyfucking, i don’t even know what else. this was a long one with a LOT of shit. pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader summary: inspired by a request from @captainlexaproluvr, which is far too long to paste here. here’s our summary instead: when jh accidentally picks up his gf’s kindle for a roadie instead of his own, he finds some surprising books downloaded. they give him a few ideas for what he’ll do when he gets home in a week… wc: 10,002

The bus rides to the airport are never fun, in Jack’s opinion. He loves his teammates, but they’re loud and annoying. He’s loud and annoying too, most of the time, but he started a really good book yesterday. He’s been thinking about reading it all day. Jack made sure to pack his Kindle in his bag, even though he had gotten distracted by your goodbye.

It started when he got back from Prague, after the Global Series. He had written off your excitement to see him as a one time thing, fueled by missing him and manifesting in an intense need for him to make it up to you– you had stopped the elevator from the garage of his apartment building and begged him to take you right there. He did, obviously, and the rush that went up his spine from how public it was led to a conversation about how Jack definitely wanted to do stuff like that again. 

He was right about one part: you jumping his bones after a roadie was a one-time-thing. The pattern changed– now, you have a habit of doing something different in bed before his roadies. It’s become somewhat of a superstition for Jack.

There was the short roadie in mid-October, when he’d gone down to Carolina and up to Ottawa for a few days. You had woken him up early that morning, kissing him and poking at him until he got fed up and pinned your wrists down. You made him late that morning, delaying the team bus for the airport, because you just had to roll your hips against his morning wood. Then, while you packed a little roadie snack for him, you just had to be naked. It’s not his fault he wanted to bend his pretty girlfriend over the counter and ruin her again.

When you joined him for the first game of his Canadian tour (Vancouver for the Hughes Bowl, then Calgary and Edmonton), Jack and Luke decided to fly with you from Jersey to Michigan to meet up with the parents ahead of time. Then, you all flew together from Michigan to Vancouver. That was normal.

What wasn’t normal was when you leaned over to Jack in the middle of the plane ride and whispered, “You know what might be fun?” with a squeeze to his clothed cock before disappearing towards the bathrooms. It took a few minutes for that one to click (and a picture of your bare tits that you sent Jack from the bathroom over the airplane WiFi), but he ended up fucking you in that tiny, cramped, closet-sized bathroom. It was thrilling.

Jack went to Florida after that– before he left, you rode his face on the living room couch while jacking him off until he came with the tip of his cock just past your lips.

He really missed the goodbyes for the first half of December, when the only away game he had was about an hour away on Long Island. It barely counted, but Jack whined about needing his good luck charm anyway, so you’d gotten down on your knees and sucked his cock all while grinding against a pillow between your legs, coming from just that. Jack was too distracted by the thought of you rutting against the pillow because you were drunk off of his cock to play well that night.

He’d liked it so much that he’d asked you to do it again before he left for Columbus and St. Louis and you’d eagerly complied. It wasn’t any less sexy the second time around.

Jack loves your goodbyes. He loves you, obviously, and would love you even if you weren’t giving him these goodbye gifts, but they’re just so special. Jack is addicted. 

He doesn’t know where you’re getting the ideas from– the position or act is never something that pops into his head. Maybe that’s why he likes it so much. Maybe he likes that you’re the one taking charge and expecting things from him, although he equally loves when he gets to do whatever he wants with you on a regular day. 

Now, he’s leaving for California. He has two games in Carolina first, but then he’ll be on the west coast for a while. He’ll be gone for Christmas and New Years, which is annoying. He knows that it’s just the way that things worked out scheduling-wise, but he likes getting to shower you with presents and watch you open them, and he likes to drink a lot of alcohol with you and kiss you at midnight to ring in the next year. 

You made up for it this morning, your goodbye causing him to forget about any gripe he might’ve had about missing you for so long. You appeared in the doorway as he was packing up the last of his bags, wearing this flouncy little white nightgown with tiny roses decorating it like polka dots. It was the picture of innocence, but your actions were anything but. That enough was to drive Jack crazy, but when you sat him down on the edge of the bed and straddled his thigh, it shattered any possibility of functional thought. You told him not to touch you, pouting about being left alone for so long on your own– and you proved to him that you can take care of yourself just fine. 

If he thought watching you grind against a pillow was bad, it was even worse to have you soiling his dress pants with your slick and your cum. All the while, he couldn’t touch you– it was torture. It was madness. It was the hottest thing Jack has ever seen. 

After you came all over his thigh, you helped Jack change out of his pants– that was your excuse to get your lips on his cock and prevent him from arriving to player check-in with a raging erection– and chose a new outfit for him to wear. You’d kissed his lips and patted his side, reminding him not to forget his Kindle because you knew how excited he was to finish his new book on the way to Cali. 

You left to get ready for the day and he had, on embarrassingly wobbly legs, wandered around the house to find his pocket-library. It wasn’t where he left it, but he ended up finding it on one of the bookcases in his living room, swiping it and tossing it into his backpack without another thought because he was, once again, running late. 

It’s a habit now. The boys have joked about buying him a better watch and Jack goes along with it, but he knows that he’ll be late no matter how good his watch is or how early he sets it. As long as you keep saying goodbye to him like this, he’s going to be a poor teammate– he’d rather experience this than be on time, any day of the week.

Your moans from this morning are echoing in his mind, so Jack pops his headphones in and presses shuffle on the playlist he was already listening to. He digs his Kindle out of his book to offer himself another distraction. It’s going to take a lot of overstimulation to prevent another boner, which means he’s going to read his book, the one he’s been so excited about. If he finishes it, he’ll get to update his Good Reads and recommend it to Quinn. 

He traces the lines of the electronic before turning it on, touching the charging port and the power button. Jack smiles. The Kindle had been a gift from you on his birthday. The week after, he had bought you the exact same one. You had matching Kindles and you often shared books like your own little book club. He’s read romances because of you and you’ve read biographies of athletes because of him. It’s fun for him. This is special to him because he’s never done something like this with any of his other girlfriends. It gives him hope that you guys will stay together as long as possible. 

Jack finally turns the Kindle on, stopping short at the sight of the photo of the home screen. This isn’t his Kindle. He accidentally swiped yours.

It’s too late to turn the bus back and with him being on the move, it would just be too much hassle to ask you to mail his Kindle to the hotel. 

Jack chuckles to himself a little bit, digging his phone out of his pocket. He types out a text to you: Accidentally took your Kindle instead of mine :(

It isn’t long until the text bubble signaling your incoming reply appears. Sorry :( just download your book onto my account <3 I’ll read my books on yours in the meantime. 

Then, a second text: At work so can’t reply again til later :( have a good trip J ily!!!! Talk to you soon!!!

Jack replies I love you too and puts his phone away. He clicks through your Kindle, which automatically opened to the app that houses your library of books. He scrolls through, recognizing some of the titles and not recognizing the others. While sliding his finger along the screen, he accidentally fumbles the Kindle as the bus goes over a bump. When he gets a hold on the device again, he sees that his finger tapped one of your books and it opened. 

Jack goes to exit out, ready to download the book he’d been waiting for, and then he spots a familiar name in the first line.

He reads the sentence like a habit– that’s what you do when you see your name somewhere, right? 

The first page is just half of a page. It’s exposition and it’s looking like this book is somewhat of a romance, but he can’t really tell all that much.

“Every year, you go to the lake house with Jack.”

Like any good first line, it leaves Jack intrigued. Who is Jack? Where’s this lake house? How long have you been going? You say every year, but how many years is that?

Jack immediately thinks of his own lake house. He misses Michigan. His imagination solves one of his questions: the lake house in this story, in his mind, is in Michigan. It’s on the same lake as his and it looks the exact same. ‘Every year’ is vague enough that Jack can accept it. It’s meant to be vague. Only one question remains: who is this Jack guy? 

It’s fun to have a character that shares a name with you, so Jack reads on. He’s determined to figure out who this guy is. 

“The past few trips, it’s been a special occasion. You get your mid-summer break from work and you get to spend time with your boyfriend.”

So Jack is the boyfriend of the main character. Jack laughs to himself again– maybe you downloaded this book so that you could think about your boyfriend while you read it. He’s tempted to text you again with a picture of the page, but since you’re at work, you won’t reply for a while. If he’s going to rib you for reading a book about a guy with the same name as him, he wants you to be able to reply immediately. 

“You’ll sit on the patio and watch him fool around with his brothers. You know them both well after dating Jack for so long, but you’re closer with Luke. After all, he rented out the second bedroom in your and Jack’s New Jersey apartment this entire past year. You know Luke better than you ever thought you would because of that.”

Jack is starting to purse his lips as he reads. He has brothers. One of them is named Luke. He lives in New Jersey with his girlfriend and Luke lived with them last year. He’s since moved out, but the coincidence is still there. It’s still…

Weird.

He reads on anyway.

“Jack loves your relationship with his brothers–”

True. 

“but what he doesn’t love is when all of your skin is on display all day for everyone to see. Your little bikinis drive him insane– because everything he wants is right there, but he can’t have it.”

Jack is a little confused about the turn this is taking. This is only the second page of the book– he told himself he wouldn’t read past the first one, but this is just too intriguing– and it’s already talking about sex? The characters are in a long term relationship, so it’s not like this is a one-night-stand, inciting-incident sort of thing. Why would the book start here?

Also– the romances he’s read because of you are a lot more tame than this. Already, he’s starting to squint at the Kindle in disbelief. Is this the kind of shit that you read on your own? He’s ribbed you in the past for not updating your Good Reads enough and now he gets it. Maybe you don’t want the whole world (all of your followers, including your boyfriend and his older brother) to know that you’re reading porn.

“All of his frustration at not being able to do anything about your skimpy clothing comes to a head one day when the Hughes house–”

Jack stops in his tracks. The other coincidences were fine. Jack is a common name. Luke is a common name. Everyone has brothers. Lots of people have lake houses. New Jersey is just one out of fifty states in the U.S.– almost ten million people live there, partially because of its proximity to New York City. 

But all of it together– Jack and Luke Hughes, living together in New Jersey, with another, older brother and a lake house– Jack is convinced. This book was written about him.

He knows fanfiction exists. He’s never interacted with it before, but he has known about fanfiction since the early 2010s. There were a couple of girls in his classes in middle school that loved One Direction and they would talk about fanfiction all the time. It was just amongst themselves, but Jack sat right next to them, so he couldn’t really help but eavesdrop.

Jack knows that he went viral after the draft, considering the influx of people that have followed him in the years since. A lot of those followers, and he’s not bragging, have been women. He just didn’t expect to ever find fanfiction about himself. He thought that was a thing for actors and musicians, not athletes… but the evidence is right in his hands.

Another thing clicks. You, his girlfriend, were reading fanfiction about him. You have it downloaded to your Kindle. Why would you do that if you’ve got the real thing? You could just call his name and he’d be there. Jack isn’t exactly coy about wanting to get it on with you. You’re the one who’s batting him away more often than him brushing you off. He’s always had a higher sex drive than you and been more overt about it–

…until recently.

Jack looks up from the Kindle and he starts to grin. He catches himself and brings his hand to his mouth, tracing the line of his bottom row of teeth with the tip of his fingernail. 

His initial surprise, which manifested in that weird smile and his breath of laughter, turns into a brief flash of judgment.

It’s weird that his girlfriend is reading fanfiction about him. He’s right there. Does he not satisfy you enough? Are you unhappy with how he acts in bed? You’ve never complained– if you don’t like something, you should talk to him. Right?

Jack finds himself frowning and clicking through the Kindle again. He’s searching for something in particular– the book that compiles all of your highlights and notes. He knows how you are– you’re a highlighter. You have a lot of opinions and thoughts about the things you read and you’re all about writing them down. You do it so you don’t forget what to say when you talk about your books with Jack later. There’s no way that you didn’t have anything to say about the porn about your boyfriend.

He finds the highlights and notes easily. He starts to flick through it, scanning the page for comments from books that he doesn’t recognize and doesn’t find anything until the tenth page of notes. 

He catches the first comment in the same way that he discovered your smut-stash in the first place. He sees his name.

“Jack moves like he’s drunk on the feeling of you, soft noises falling from his lips like he’s trying not to be too loud. You can almost feel the elevator shaking with his movements.”

Jack’s lips part in surprise. He taps the highlight, looking for more information. He’s looking for your comment– and all he gets is an “oh.”

It’s frustratingly vague. “Oh”? What does that even mean?

Jack releases a scoff and clicks along. He reads the sentence again, this time focusing on a familiar detail. Jack was fucking his girlfriend in an elevator. You jumped his bones in the elevator a few weeks ago. Jack’s not sure that’s a coincidence– after all, none of the details in the first story were coincidental.

He checks when you left that comment– and he was right. You left the comment while he was in Prague.

Jack feels a bit like a detective as he repeats the process, searching for more highlights and comments. He finds several interesting ones:

“Maybe, if you’re lucky, you can cut down on Jack’s time to get ready by making his breakfast for him, and he’ll reward you by bending you over the counter. He can never deny you another round when he sees himself dripping out of you so beautifully” was also highlighted while he was in Prague.

“You make your way into the bathroom and press your back against the door, feeling lightheaded at the rush– in just a few minutes, you’re going to have your boyfriend’s cock inside of you, but thousands of feet off the air. The thought of it, how dirty it is to have sex in such a public yet confined space, makes you whimper” while he was in Carolina and Ottawa.

“‘Wanna sit on this pretty face,’ you tell him. ‘While I gag on your cock’” while he was in Edmonton. 

The next one is– dirtier. Jack feels warm when he reads it. You highlighted it while he was gone in Florida and it’s clearly the inspiration for the goodbye you gave him before he went to Long Island that one night, the night when you nearly gave him a heart attack by coming on the pillow between your legs.

The other part that you highlighted… didn’t happen… but Jack has a feeling that you want to try it, given the comment you left on the highlighted page.

“Jack tilts your head up and you open your mouth, showing him that you swallowed every drop that he awarded you. Jack spits a thick wad onto your tongue again, the weight of it heavy on your muscle although, in reality, his saliva would weight next to nothing.”

Your comment says: “...& he spits on the ice all the time but never in MY mouth??”

He would if you asked. But that’s not the end of the quote– his favorite part is yet to come.

“The heat in his eyes and the taste of him in your throat pushes you to your peak, your hips erratic against the pillow. Your legs are shaking, trembling as you tip over the edge and release over the object between your legs.”

Yeah, he likes that one.

The final comment that Jack reads is from his most recent roadie in Ohio and Missouri. It’s what happened this morning. 

“‘Nah, I don’t think I will,’ Jack replies. ‘How about you get yourself off on my thigh and I’ll consider rewarding you for being so pretty and self-sufficient?’... ‘Let me see how pretty you are when you make yourself come, thinking of me.’ Your hips are rocking along the strong muscle of his thigh as he kisses you again.”

“Dirty girl,” Jack murmurs aloud, not realizing that he said such a thing audibly. Luckily, Nico is the only one close enough to hear him, and he always sleeps like a rock when they’re driving to the airport, or on the plane, or driving to the hotel from the airport. It’s the perfect combination.

So you’ve been reading smut while Jack is away. You’ve been getting ideas from fanfiction about how to fuck him.

Jack should be upset and uncomfortable because you’re reading about a fake version of him, but really, he’s just turned on. You think about him. If it was some other guy, maybe he’d be more upset… but no. You’re reading fanfiction about him and recreating the parts you like with him. Even in your little romance books, you want to read about him.

He’s elated, because, well… two can play at that game.

Jack was excited to read his book, but reading your books seems like a much better time and a much better way to entertain himself on this roadie.

He spends the next two weeks perusing your Kindle library for more books about him. They’re all short and most of them are written in second person, although some are in first and third person. Most commonly, though, it’s in second person as some sort of “Reader-puts-herself-in-Main-Character’s-shoes” sort of thing. Jack doesn’t like the books where the author writes “Y/N.” He’s not quite sure what it stands for, so he just tries to avoid it. 

Is it weird that he’s reading fanfiction about himself? Maybe, but he tries not to think about it too long. He’s doing it for you, for his girlfriend, because he wants to show you exactly what he found. Dirty, dirty girl.

About halfway through the roadie, he tries to hint that he knows about your secret. You’re on the phone and he tries to start a little phone sex action based on something he read the other day, when Merc left the hotel room and Jack was left alone. He’s alone again now. He doesn’t know where Dawson is, so he isn’t very subtle with his hinting.

He just parrots his favorite sentence back to you. 

“So, baby,” Jack says, grinning to himself. “‘Why don’t you touch your pretty little clit for me?’”

It doesn’t work. You just start laughing. “Jesus, J. That came out of nowhere.”

Jack pouts to himself. Maybe you haven’t read that one yet. He figured you would recognize the words.

He gives up on the reveal, deciding to save it for when he’s home in just another week. He gets to tell you how much he misses you and how much he wishes he could see you. He wishes you a belated Merry Christmas and he gets to spend midnight on the phone with you– your time, not his. He blows a kiss through the phone… and that’s that.

He’s back to being alone with your little stories. Jack’s able to restrain himself for the most part, but he is willing to admit that they pique his interest... and his cock sometimes grows to reflect just how interested he is.

He returns to the first story on the bus ride back from the airport to Jersey. It’s symmetrical that way and he kind of likes the idea of finishing his journey with your Kindle and your fanfictions where it originally began. It’s a full circle moment.

The story is a few thousand words, just about ten pages on the device. There are multiple rounds written into it– definitely a score, because in real life, multiple rounds is a luxury for Jack. He gets sleepy after the first and needs a break. Fictional Jack might be setting some unrealistic standards compared to real Jack, but at least real Jack can actually fuck you. All fictional Jack can do is… allude to it. He never actually gets to do it.

Jack’s favorite part of the story comes toward the end. You’ve been wearing your bikinis all summer, teasing Jack with the knowledge of what’s beneath the scrap of fabric. He’s seen your tits plenty of times before, but it always gives him a thrill to see them. One of his favorite things is getting to come all over them and mark them as his, which fictional Jack gets to do.

“You kneel below him, looking up at him with wide and bleary eyes. Jack smirks at you, his hand leisurely stroking his cock. His tip is an angry red, bleeding precum from his slit, but he still doesn’t increase his pace.

‘Ask me for it,’ Jack says, tilting his head to the side. When you open your mouth, Jack taps the head of his cock against your bottom lip, distracting you. Your tongue darts out to lick the salty precum away, but Jack evades you, laughing softly. ‘Such a slut. Well– for me, right? You want to walk around with your tits out all the time, but you’re so easy for my cock. You’re all mine, aren’t you?’

‘Jack, please,’ you pout. ‘I want your cum. Come on my tits.’

Jack slows his hand. Then, he stops stroking himself altogether.

‘What–’ you question involuntarily, brows furrowing and frown deepening. You push your chest out, trying to make the canvas more appealing for Jack. Why did he stop?

‘Give me your hand,’ Jack instructs, holding his hand out with his palm up so that you can take it. You give him your hand, waiting for him to help you up like a gentleman. That’s how this feels, like the momentum of the moment has completely halted. You’re so confused that you’d accept it if Jack just… denied you completely.

Instead, he brings your hand to his cock. He encourages you to curl your fingers around the length, watching your eyes as it slowly dawns on you. You resume his pace, lacking confidence at first and then realizing that this is better.

‘Do it yourself,’ Jack says. ‘You want me to mark you up?’ He bucks his hips forward once, just to throw off your rhythm. ‘Make me.’

You’re whimpering a little bit, puffing out your chest again and shuffling closer on your knees. Your body is practically brushing his from mere proximity. Your other hand comes to Jack’s thigh, tracing his light hair gently in comparison to the increasingly rapid strokes to his length.

Jack gathers your hair in his hand like he does when he fucks your mouth. As if on instinct, you open your mouth. Jack’s smirk reappears. ‘Easy,’ he reminds you again, taking his other hand and cradling your chin. He tilts your head back and spits, aiming at your lips. The difference is, he’s standing and you’re kneeling, so the spit doesn’t find its mark. Instead, it lands on your face. You blink in surprise and Jack uses his thumb to corral the saliva towards your mouth. There’s nothing really left by the time his thumb finds your lips, but you latch on like his digit is a flowing faucet in the middle of Death Valley.”

It turns out, spit is a thing for Jack too. He’s always liked to come on your body, but he didn’t even consider the possibility of a different liquid. Coming on you is a possession thing, and spitting is similar… it’s demeaning, showing that you’re under his control, but Jack likes it because you’d trust him enough to take it. It’s gross, but you’d still let him spit on you and into your mouth.

Well, in theory. He’ll see if you’re actually willing to do such a thing tonight.

Like he said, two can play at that game.

Jack barely bids adieu to his teammates. He speeds home, probably faster than he should knowing how the NJPD can be. He has no plan for if he gets pulled over. Luckily, he doesn’t, and he makes it home in record time. 

You’re asleep in bed. It’s early in the morning, but only about an hour before your alarm goes off for work. Timing might be the one thing that really annoys Jack about his job– the game wasn’t finished in California until almost one in the morning in New Jersey, then he had to take the bus to the airport, fly home, take the bus back to Prudential Center, and drive home. It took more time than he wanted it to and he feels bad waking you up, so Jack just climbs into bed and wraps his arms around your sleeping figure. You must’ve felt bad about waking him, because when he blinks his eyes open, you’ve already left for work.

Jack doesn’t find a good time to reveal your secret in the days after his return. You both do your normal routine. Jack returned on Tuesday. His next away trip isn’t until Friday, and once again, it’s a one-night, tiny roadie. He’s only going 30 minutes up the road to MSG. You’re coming with him. By all accounts, he shouldn’t even count it as a roadie.

Jack is desperate to show you that he knows. He also wants you to know that he’s okay with it– that he likes that you read about him and imagine him while he’s gone. He might be eager and rushing things, but this is his first chance to catch you off guard and he’s going to take it. He wants to establish this new routine early– now.

He sits on the couch, his hockey bag already packed and by the door. It’s a night game, so you’ll have time to get ready after work. Jack doesn’t have time. He’s hoping to intercept you as you walk through the apartment door, getting his kicks before he ends up being too late to the arena. Because it’s so close, he gets to drive himself to the arena. He can speed again, but New York City is so fickle with traffic that he knows he’ll run into trouble if you don’t get home, like, imminently. 

Big word, yes, but he’s been reading a lot lately. He was always better in school than Quinn and Luke, too. Not a brag– just a fact.

He also seems to have a future (ha, get it?) in predicting the future, because you arrive home just a few minutes later. You set your stuff down on the dining room table before joining Jack on the couch and greeting him with a little kiss.

“Thought you’d be gone by now,” you say, pressing another kiss to his lips and curling into his side. 

Jack wraps his arm around your waist and grins at you, crooked and shit-eating. “Couldn’t leave without getting my good luck charm first, eh?”

You laugh at him, pressing your hand against his chest, right over his heart. “It’s barely a roadie. You’re literally coming back here tonight and I’m going to the game.”

“You know how hockey players are with their superstitions,” Jack pouts, poking your side until you let out a sarcastic and dramatic sigh, rolling your eyes while you climb onto his lap like you don’t love sitting there. 

“I know how my hockey player is with his superstitions,” you reply, placing your palms on Jack’s jaw and squishing his cheeks together a little bit. 

Jack wiggles beneath you, still grinning and jostling you on his lap in the process. He’s already half-hard from his excitement about surprising you with your own fantasy. 

“But,” you continue. Your hands fall to his chest again. “I don’t have any ideas for you, sweetheart.”

“That’s okay,” Jack says. “I have plenty.”

You laugh, tossing your head back. “Of course you do.”

“Well, I was reading this book on my roadie,” Jack starts.

“Oh, yeah, we never talked about that. Was it good? I know you were really excited to read about–”

“Not that one,” Jack interrupts. “I didn’t end up reading that. I’ll probably read it when we go to Toronto next week.”

A look of confusion passes over your face. “Then what did you read?” You question.

Jack just smiles, waiting for it to click in your head. There’s only so much that he’d be able to read on your Kindle. You’d read one of your normal books last night and clearly hadn’t noticed anything different on the device, so you can’t immediately think of a book that Jack would read.

You narrow your eyes at him, suspicious. “What did you read?” You repeat, voice cautious.

Jack wiggles his eyebrows, hands inching down to cover your behind. He rolls his hips up against your core. He’s still smiling.

Your lips part, mouthing half of an interrogative word to yourself while you think. You’re fiddling with Jack’s t-shirt, evaluating him.

Jack brings a hand up to your neck, cupping the back and pulling you in for a kiss. You come easily, kissing Jack’s lips. Your movements are slightly stilted, still thinking about Jack’s literary options.

His hand moves from the back of your neck to your jaw. He lets his thumb and his forefinger smush your cheeks. 

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Wait– open your mouth again, baby?” Jack prompts, feigning concern. 

You automatically obey him, still looking confused. “What?” You try to ask with an open mouth, the word coming out garbled. 

Jack grins, subtly gathering a wad of saliva in his mouth while he looks into your mouth. There was nothing there, he just needed an excuse to get your mouth open. This is better than outright saying it. From your comments, he knows that you’re at least interested. If you hate it, you’ll talk about it later. He wants to see the realization on your face. It’s a big risk, knowing that you could cringe and flinch and react negatively, but Jack has a feeling you won’t.

He grips your cheeks, keeping your mouth open as wide as you’ll allow. Jack misses the flash of alarm and understanding in your eyes because he’s busy aiming at your mouth. Jack spits his saliva onto your tongue and releases his grip on your cheeks. Your mouth clamps shut and you stare at him, eyes wide and thoroughly shocked.

Jack quirks an eyebrow at you, satisfied by your frozen figure atop his lap. He checks the clock over your shoulder, seeing that he’s really running out of time. He was supposed to leave about five minutes ago. 

An idea pops into Jack’s head. He could leave you here, processing things, and go play his game. Then, he can come back later and pick up where he left off. 

Deciding to do that, Jack plops a chaste kiss on your lips before he stands, still cradling you with your knees squeezing his hips, but legs not quite wrapped around his middle. He lays you on the couch and kisses you again before returning to his full height. He thumbs over your bottom lip as if he’s wiping away his kiss. 

“Bye, baby,” Jack bids you, then gathers his stuff and leaves the apartment.

You don’t say anything or move an inch until after he’s gone.

Jack plays a great game. He knows you’re in the wag suite and he knows that he makes it onto the jumbotron a few times– probably even more on the live television feed that plays in the suite– just because of how well he’s playing. He makes sure to spit on the ice way more often than he normally does, just to send you a message.

In the back of his head, Jack realizes that people who write fanfiction will be thirsting over these clips of him spitting. Good. More things for you to read while he’s gone.

You’re home by the time he makes it back. You’re on him from the second he walks through the front door. 

“You read my–”

“Your secret fanfiction?” Jack teases. “It was an accident at first, but then I realized who it was about.”

You groan, whining as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and bury your face in his neck. Jack knows you’re blushing and he just laughs, cradling your body in his arms. Jack kisses the side of your head, burying his nose in your hair and smelling your shampoo.

“Is that why you spat in my mouth?” You question, voice muffled against his skin. 

Jack laughs again, smiling and swinging you around in his arms playfully. “You seemed to like that bit in your books.”

“It was only in, like, one,” you deflect. 

Jack snorts. “It was in four, baby, and those are just the ones that I read.”

You grumble again, pressing your lips against his neck in a miserable kiss. “You’re so weird,” you tell him. 

“You’re the one reading fanfiction about your boyfriend while he’s away,” Jack replies. “Then you’re recreating it.” He pauses. “‘Such a slut. Well– for me, right?’”

“Oh my God,” you wail.

“Tell me, baby, what do you do when you’re reading those little stories? Do you touch yourself?”

“Jack,” you complain.

“C’mon, sweetheart. You’ll take my spit in your mouth but you won’t tell me if you touch yourself to the thought of me?”

“You are so weird,” you say again. 

Jack feels triumphant, proud of himself. He’s glad that you’re still wrapped up in his arms, even though you’re embarrassed and red. 

“Can I recreate my favorite one?” Jack asks, kissing your head again. “Like you did?”

You pull back from him, fingers finding the nape of his neck and toying with his hair. You seem skeptical, eying him. “You really read them enough to have a favorite one?” You ask, bottom lip sticking out for Jack to lean down and capture between his teeth. 

He nibbles playfully until you start tugging at his locks, convincing him to back away. “‘Course I did,” Jack says, shrugging. “These writers seem to think I’m very good at pleasing you.”

You start to laugh, shaking your head.

“Do you write them?” Jack asks.

That brings you up short. “Do I write them?”

“Yeah. You know how I fuck best, don’t you?” Jack taps your nose with his own. “So, do you write?”

You make a face. “No. I’m not much of a writer.”

That’s true– you’ve often complained to Jack about how you’d like to be able to write as well as your favorite authors. He should’ve thought about that. Instead, he goes back to his most pressing question.

“So?” Jack asks.

“So, what?”

“Can we recreate one?”

He wants you in a tiny bikini or your prettiest push-up bra, your meticulous hand jerking his cock until he comes all over your chest. He wants to spit in your mouth again.

“Which one?”

Jack detangles you from his arms and crosses over to the thermostat. He punches up the heat to 80ºF, turning to look at you.

“Oh, no,” he simpers sarcastically. “It’s so hot in here. It’s like when we’re at the lake house in Michigan during the summer and you wear your bikini around the house all day, teasing me.”

You look thoroughly unimpressed. “You don’t have to turn up the thermostat. You can just ask me to put on my bikini, baby.”

Jack sticks his tongue out at you and resets the thermostat. “Will you put on your bikini for me?”

“Yes. Also, J, I didn’t read that one yet.”

Jack is delighted. He really gets to guide you through this, leaving you in the dark like he was the first few times you acted out a fanfiction together without his knowledge. “Good,” he says. “Then you’ll be just as surprised as I was when I read it.”

You roll your eyes once more, hiding a smile, before you disappear down the hall and into the bedroom. Jack puts his hockey stuff on the balcony like always. You tend to complain that it stinks. He’s used to it by now, having played hockey for so many years. The smell is nothing.

He joins you in the bedroom and finds you in your bikini, just like you said you’d be. It’s the white one that you’ve had for ages, since before Jack started begging you to go to the gym with him. He asked you to do so so that he could watch you work out and get all sweaty– hot– and he doesn’t regret it one bit. You were less broad then. The musculation broadened your hips and your chest, like it was expected to. Age has also helped– you once complained to Jack about looking different than you used to, so he looked it up so that he could find some way to comfort you that was steeped in fact rather than sympathetic words, and he found that women go through a second kind of puberty in their life where they become even more womanly. That’s the best way he can describe it. Jack doesn’t care that your body has “changed” since he started dating you. He barely even notices, except in moments like these. 

The swimsuit is small on you. It doesn’t cover everything the way it used to when you first bought it. The triangular cups spread only so far over your tits, leaving sideboob for Jack to gawk at. The bottoms are wrenched up over your hips and you’re facing away from him, so he gets to see the way that the fabric bunches and tries to ride up between your cheeks. 

He can’t help it. He crosses the room and grabs at your ass, completely groping you. It would be inappropriate if you weren’t together and minutes away from fucking. Luckily, Jack gets to touch you whenever he wants. It’s the best thing ever.

“Ja-ack,” you complain, drawing his name out and turning towards him. Jack is reluctant to let go of your lower half, so he circles his arms around your waist to keep his hands on your skin. He splays his fingers out as much as he can before he cups the weight of your behind in each palm, pointedly inching closer to grind his hips against your front. 

“Pretty girl,” Jack compliments, claiming your lips again with his. He never gets enough of kissing you. 

You kiss him back, then you bring your hands down and grope his ass in the exact same manner as he’s groping yours. 

“Hey,” Jack exclaims, his touch flying to your hands and removing them. 

“Oh, so you can do it but I can’t?” You question. “That’s not fair.”

“I don’t have an ass like yours!”

“Are you calling me fat?”

This is your go-to line when Jack compliments your figure– particularly your ass and your tits. He was absolutely shocked and affronted the first time you pulled that line out of thin air, but this time might be the millionth time you’ve asked him if he thinks you’re fat, so he’s used to it.

Jack bites his lip and wiggles his eyebrows, putting his hands on your assets again. “Calling your ass fat,” he replies. “I love this fat ass.” He punctuates his tease with a squeeze.

You burst out laughing. “You’re so fucking weird!” You repeat again.

“Get on your knees,” Jack says. He’s trying to inflect his words like Bob asking Linda to undress in Bob’s Burgers. He knows you’ll get the reference, even though you don’t react.

You give him a little look, just a slight cut of your eyes, and then you kneel down. Jack’s cock twitches in his pants at the mere sight of it.

He cups your jaw with one hand and tilts your chin up, biting his lip as he admires you. “Easy,” Jack says.

“Well, I’m not going to fucking fight you, Jack. You’re the one who wants to recreate this fanfiction and I’ve never read it, so obviously I’m going to listen–”

While your mouth is moving, Jack gathers spit. Instead of letting it fly from his mouth towards your face, Jack lets it drip in a long line until you realize what he’s doing and stop talking. He quirks an eyebrow, prompting you. 

You open your mouth again and let his saliva fall onto your tongue. 

Jack pats your cheek and you close your lips. Jack waits, but he sees no movement in your throat. 

“Swallow,” he tells you.

And you do. 

Jack can’t really describe the feeling that washes over him. It’s simultaneously exciting that you will take anything he gives you and like an honor that you’ll do something so– odd? Is that the word? Jack doesn’t know– just because he asked you to.

There’s also the sexy bit, where it’s something from his body that you’re swallowing. He’s always loved it when you swallow his seed, but that’s so much more normalized. Every guy likes that. Not every guy does this spit thing.

“That’s my girl,” Jack says. He bends down and kisses your forehead as a reward. 

You don’t seem to have the words to form a reply.

“Was that okay?” Jack asks. He needs to make sure that your speechlessness is because it’s sexy and you like it, not because you’re staying quiet and dealing with his actions, just waiting it out until he’s finished. Then, you’ll never do it again and he’ll never be the wiser that you hated it.

You nod. “Yeah,” you agree quietly. “I like it.”

Jack’s anxiety melts. “I’m not making you do this?”

You shake your head. “No. It’s–” You shrug and look down.

“Tell me,” Jack implores gently. “I need to know.”

“It’s different is all. Now I’m thinking about it too much, I don’t want to think about it.” You pout up at Jack, looking a little sad. 

He wants to solve it for you. “Okay, we don’t have to talk about it. As long as you like it, that’s enough.”

“I like it,” you confirm. You touch his knee, then the front of his pants. “Can I show you how much I like it?”

Jack nods, bringing his hands to his belt and undoing it. He unzips himself and drops the dress pants to his ankles, letting you do the work on his briefs. “You can,” Jack says. “But you have to stop before I come.”

You’re pulling him out of his underwear as he speaks, but you pause when he tells you when you have to stop. You look up at him, hand circling his cock. He’s been growing hard this whole time, so his cock is standing out towards your face even without your hand guiding it. Once, you were making fun of him, and you compared his dick to a compass trying to find “true North”– you. Jack has thought about that moment every single time you take his cock out since you said it. He’s been able to move past it, but he thinks about it nonetheless.

“I’m never the problem when it comes to stopping,” you bite at him, your words pointed and knowing. 

“Fuck off,” Jack sneers playfully. You might be right, but that’s not fair. He likes to come, he doesn’t want to stop himself. “Suck my dick, baby.”

You stick out your tongue at him, but then you take him in your mouth.

Like most times, all thought leaves Jack’s head. When he fucks you, or when you’re taking care of him, there’s rarely anything actually flowing through his head. His mind is just automatically filled with holy shit– mouth– warm– tongue– oh, I hope you do that again– fuck, shit, oh my God– wait, don’t thrust, you don’t want to gag too much– on a loop. 

When he looks at you, his heart is lurching because of the slopes of your cheekbones and the wide, blown out look in your eyes. He can’t look at you and feel your movements at the same time because he will come down your throat. He’s just a man. He’s simple. 

Jack takes you by the hair and stops you, pulling out of your mouth and stepping away. He’s breathing more heavily than before and his cock is throbbing with a need to release. His hand circles his base, trapping himself and providing a bit of relief. 

Some of your spit keeps his dick connected to your mouth. It’s hot. Briefly, Jack tries to decide if he’d let you spit in his mouth, but it requires too much thought for the moment, so he tables it for later. 

“Give me your hand,” Jack says.

You comply and Jack curls your fingers around his shaft. You wait for him to tell you what to do– which Jack definitely likes.

“I want to come on your pretty tits,” Jack says, trying not to twitch and jerk his hips when you start to move your hand. “And I want you to make it happen.”

You grin up at him, dipping your head to press a kiss to the tip of his cock before you guide him towards your chest. Jack’s cockhead bumps your collarbone before you start to drag your hand in thorough strokes, pointing the tip towards the valley of your cleavage. You look up at him all the meanwhile, watching his face as he succumbs to the pleasure you’re providing to him. 

Jack touches your face with one hand. Your free hand is resting on the front side of his hip, just feeling him. He places his other hand over yours, gripping the appendage in a distorted version of holding your hand.

Warmth shoots through his body, your clenches and twists along his cock hurling him towards the powerful climax that he’s been anticipating since he started reading your little stories on the bus on the way to California.

“Fuck, baby, you’re always so good at that,” Jack tells you, praising you in the way that always brings a sweet blush onto your cheeks. 

You thank him quietly, bashfully, continuing your ministrations until the pleasure overcomes Jack and he moans, watching his cum splash over your skin. It’s the strokes of a masterpiece, but at the same time, Jack is marring the masterpiece that is your body with the white ropes that you’ve drawn from his cock. He’s privileged because he gets to ruin you.

After he comes, Jack brings you up to your feet and kisses you again. He can taste himself on your tongue, tangling with his as you kiss him back. Jack brings his hand between your legs, dipping into the fabric to find that you’re deliciously wet between your folds. 

He teases you with his fingers while he kisses you, letting time pass until you’re wiggling against him and making little noises into his mouth. Jack dips his finger into your hole, only going up to the first knuckle. It’s barely enough to satisfy you, but it allows Jack to belittle you a bit before giving you more, when you beg for it.

Surprisingly, you don’t beg for him to finger you more. You don’t ask him to take your bikini off. You keep kissing him and whining into his mouth, grinding your hips. After only a few more rolls of your hips, you pull away.

“Let me try something,” you whisper, kissing him once more before returning to your knees.

“‘Kay,” Jack agrees, watching you carefully. 

You kneel tall, pursing your lips and focusing on his cock, which is doing its best to fill up entirely for the second time. 

Jack’s eyes nearly pop out of his head when you push your breasts together so that Jack’s cock can rest between them. The pressure from your hands against your boobs, sandwiching Jack’s cock, drives him crazy.

The smug look on your face, knowing what you’re doing to him, makes Jack even crazier. It’s like when you’d recreate your little stories. You were in the know, but Jack was not. Now, you knew that you’d be tittyfucking your boyfriend, and you knew that he’s got a thing for your chest… oh, it’s a dream. Jack might never be able to look at anyone else sexually ever again. Holy shit.

It doesn’t take long for him to become fully hard again. He’s about seconds away from blowing a second load on your chest– an appealing idea, but evidently one that you won’t let happen. 

You pull back, drawing a complaint from Jack’s throat. You stand and push him back onto the bed, Jack pulling you with him. You land on top of his chest with a little ‘oof.’ You push yourself into a seated position, heavy on his lap. 

“Did’ya like it?” You tease, hands planted securely on Jack’s ribcage. You grind down against his naked cock. The soaked fabric of your bikini bottoms bunches up as you roll your hips, then shifts the other way when you rock back. The sensation is far too much for Jack in this state.

Jack puts his hands on your hips and halts your movements. You resist a little bit, ironically going against your words from earlier about not fighting him.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to come,” Jack says. “I want to come in you, baby.”

“Okie,” you agree like a goof, which gives Jack a little reprieve. You laugh and pat his chest, kneeling up a bit so that you can take his cock in your hand. You shift the crotch of your bikini bottoms to the side and sink down on Jack’s member, enveloping him entirely.

Jack breathes out as you settle against him. He has to close his eyes and push all the air out of his lungs before he can look up at you again.

His cum has dried on your chest. Your hair is wild. Your fingernails are digging into his chest as you start to rise and fall. Your tits bounce, drawing Jack’s eyes. He can’t really decide where to look– your tits, your face, your pussy… which is swallowing his cock greedily and perfectly, the way only you can.

Your walls are gummy and hot. It’s impossible to escape the pleasure or stave off his second orgasm, especially not when you flex your abdomen and rotate your hips in a little figure-eight that has you inadvertently clenching down on him. You’re like a vice, the one with the crank that takes a tight grip and makes it almost clinically impossible to un-attach. 

Jack is probably babbling, although he’s more focused on the sweet little moans and breaths that escape from your mouth. You’re biting your bottom lip, so Jack reaches up to pull it from your teeth. He thinks again of what it would be like to have you spit into his mouth from this vantage point, but then you start to bounce again and he loses the idea into the ether of pleasure. His first two fingers find your tongue and you start to suck, more noises leaving your mouth and sending vibrations up his arm.

His insides start to feel warm and fuzzy, which is when Jack stutters out a brief warning that he’s going to come. He doesn’t know how close you are, but your fingers on one hand have started to flick against your clit in quick motions. Jack watches your fingers move, enraptured by the sight because they’re just so deft– and then he remembers that those fingers spurred him towards an orgasm before, which landed across your chest– and then a little bit of your saliva slides between his fingers and cools in the bedroom air– and Jack comes inside of you. It knocks all of the breath and all of the tension out of his body, leaving him completely blank and new like he’s floating in space without anything around.

The first thing he sees after whiting out from the orgasm is you, legs shaking, writhing so violently from the gratification of your own climax that his cock is displaced from its home in your cunt. His cum drips out of you and the rapid emptiness allows you to pull off Jack’s favorite trick– your orgasm manifests in a squirt that washes over Jack’s pelvis and leaves you grinding into the air for more. 

Jack pushes himself up to a half-seated position to catch you when you sag forward from sheer exhaustion, kissing you again and bringing you to a position where you can straddle his thigh and continue chasing the aftershocks of your climax. You’re mewling into his mouth desperately, hips working, and Jack wants to give you another but he just can’t. He’s entirely spent.

He plugs you with two fingers, filling you because he knows that’s what you need. You hump against his hand as you come down, your kisses becoming less wanton and needy as you exit the rush of emotion you’re experiencing.

Your kisses turn sweet and long, sensual but not intentional. You’re making out just to feel each other, just like how Jack has his fingers inside of you just so that you’re full. 

“That wasn’t exactly what I read,” Jack is able to joke after your rocking stops. 

“No?” You ask, voice thick, the way it is when you first wake up in the morning and you’re not sure what’s real and what’s a dream. Jack loves when your voice gets like that after he fucks you– it means he did a good job and you’re so satisfied that you’re sleepy. Your eyes are closed now and you wrap your arms around Jack’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“I was supposed to spit on your face before you made me come,” Jack says. 

You hum. “I think ours was better.”

“Maybe you should write it down,” Jack teases, which earns him a sharp tug to his hair. He laughs. “Okay, message received.”

You sit in silence for another few minutes. Jack draws shapes all over the expanse of your back– although his favorite is the attempted rose that he puts between your shoulderblades or the series of loopy hearts at the base of your spine. 

“I have another question,” Jack says.

“Hm?”

You really are sleepy. Jack might have to sit you on the counter in the ensuite bathroom and clean you up with a wet rag instead of washing your body of his cum in the shower, which is what he was fully planning to do. That being said, Jack asks his final (series) of question(s).

“That stuff wasn’t, like, actually published, right? People aren’t making money off of my name and life? I don’t have to sue anyone?  I feel like that would be a little embarrassing. I don’t want to go to court because of fanfiction.”

He makes you giggle. “No, baby. They’re not real books. Although, there are probably some real books whose love interests were inspired by you.”

Jack hums. “I’ll allow it.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure they don’t even compare to the real thing.” You kiss his shoulder and toy with his hair a little more before Jack decides to take you to the bathroom and clean you up.

You continue to share your sweet kisses, puckering your lips to ask for another every few minutes, and Jack is hopeless to deny you. Not after you did so well, anyway– letting him do exactly what he wanted, and even improving it by working him over with your boobs and squirting because of his cock. 

Jack takes you back to bed after you’re all clean, cuddling up behind you and spooning you. “Love you,” he murmurs in your ear before kissing your neck. 

“Love you,” you parrot back. “Can’t believe you’re making me find a fanfiction that’s better than that for your next goodbye.”

“I’ll do some research, too,” Jack offers. 

You scoff, shaking your head fondly and laughing at Jack one last time before falling asleep. “So fucking weird.”

notes: this has been in my inbox since MAY ELEVENTH. Cappy's patience cannot be overpraised. she sent me FIVE requests outlining this whole thing, complete with dialogue, most of which was completely thrown out the window when i got my own ideas and actually started writing. you all will likely never see the original requests, but they are so silly goofy looking back on it. i have them written down in my notes app, having done that before i embarked on this journey, and i will probably not delete them because it's a nice little memory. back to my roots.

like i told cappy: this fic was a canon event, a fixed point, in my writing journey. i hope you all SINCERELY enjoy it. i know i've said this before, but this could be my magnum opus <3 i think it is the best contender at the moment.

i hope you all enjoyed!

[whumptober]

Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt

We get a lot of questions about prompts, so I thought this might be a helpful post for how to break down a Whumptober prompt and get ideas.

Each day of Whumptober has 4 prompts: a theme trope, then three ideas. You can use any one, two, three, or all four in your work. Each day’s prompts loosely relate to each other but could also be taken individually. They can be interpreted as literally or figuratively as you want.

Let’s look at an example. I’m a writer, so I’m going to talk in terms of storywriting, but just remember that this challenge is open to all sorts of creative works, including art, gifsets, headcannons, crafts, or whatever else you can think of.

ICARUS

cage | “You'll say you'd never let me fall from hopes so high” | crash landing

(Fiona Apple, Never is a Promise)

So the theme is Icarus, with additional prompts of a place, a song lyric, and a situation. Taken together, you could write a story of Icarus, who was caged with his father Daedelus, flew too close to the sun on the hope of freedom, and crashed fatally to earth. But you could also look at each prompt in isolation for ideas.

Icarus:

themes of hubris

themes of freedom from captivity

winged characters

a child trying to prove themselves to a parent figure and failing

Cage:

being literally caged

feeling figuratively caged

breaking free of something (literal or figurative)

themes of imprisonment and freedom or false freedom

“You'll say you'd never let me fall from hopes so high”:

regret

promises made or broken

an accident and its aftermath

bitterness after betrayal

guilt after betrayal or accident

Crash landing:

literally falling from a height

being high (drugs, mania, medications, love, sugar) and crashing

plane/helicopter/airship/dragon/spaceship/winged creature crash

an angel falling to earth or hell

comet or meteor impact

This isn’t an exhaustive list, but just some brainstorming ideas I could come up with quickly. In a few of my fandoms, I could write about Bucky’s fall from the train and Steve’s guilt (MCU), Basch fon Ronsenburg’s fall from grace or languishing in a cage for treason (FFXII), Sephiroth summoning Meteor (FFVII), Chell being dragged back into Aperture after thinking she’s free (Portal), a dragonrider battle (ASOIAF/HoD), crashing into the Chionthar after victory (BG3), Geralt coming down after battle when the potions wear off (The Witcher). Any of these scenarios could be inspired by one or more of the four prompts for that day – my problem is always deciding which one I want to use!

“But Yenn,” you say, “what if I can’t think of anything for any parts of the prompt, or I don’t like the prompts, or they’re too much for me in some way?” No problem! We also have a list of 15 alternatives that can be substituted for any day (once per prompt). If you’re still stuck, you can always come on Discord and ask for brainstorming help. Everyone is super nice there, especially for a community of people that live to put blorbos in discomfort.

I hope this post helps give people ideas. We’re working hard to get everything together and should release the prompts in a couple of weeks! In the meantime, our 2024 playlist will be loading soon...

[enwoso]

BIG ADVENTURE! — alessia russo x child!reader

full of fluff and cutest☺️ probably much needed after that game x

navigation -> grumpy universe masterlist

the group of twenty-three english players were half way through their embark on their adventure down under to begin their preparations for the women's world cup however they had a twenty fourth player in the form of a four year old little girl - which was you.

the england girls had loved having your little infectious personality around camp so far and were looking forwards to watching you cheer them on throughout the tournament.

"lovie, c'mon!" alessia held out her hand for you to hold onto as you had been running around the lounge waiting to go down into the terminal to board the plane. alessia more than happy to let you run around hoping you would get rid of as much energy as possible before the flight.

keeping you entertained for the past few hours since landing in dubai for the short lay over— alessia had simply been silently dreading the second half of the long flight to sydney.

"mummy! is that the plane we go on?" you asked, holding tightly onto your mums hand as you backpack hung low on your back. you pointing out the window to the sight of the planes sat on the tarmac outside.

"that's right! we should be on that one" alessia bent down to match your height pointing to said plane that the team was waiting to be allowed to board.

"it's a big plane isn't it!" alessia smiled as your face was covered with a big grin as a small wow came from you.

a burst of energy coming from you as you dropped your mum's hand along with your backpack, running in the direction of where georgia and a few of the other girls were, excited to show them the planes which were outside.

"gee! look, look- the planes! over there!" you rushed out tapping the midfielder repeatedly on the leg interrupting the older girls' conversation with keira.

"woah- slow down tiny!" georgia laughed picking you up as you took a little breathe, "okay now what were you saying?" georgia asked, her eyebrows raising slightly.

"look! mummy says that we go on them planes!" you point over to the wide window, at the planes which were stood on the other side of the window. excitement flowing through you with a wide grin still on your face.

"i know! isn't that cool!" georgia smiled at your excitement as keira poured, "are you excited tiny?" keira asked as you nodded quickly.

"YES! mummy said we can see koalas and k-ka-kanroos!" you said focusing on trying to say the last word which you could say properly, your eyebrows knitting together with concentration.

"kangaroos?"

"yep them!"

a gasp then coming from keira, "are you not excited to see your mummy play football?" you smile dropping a little in confusion.

"duh, mummy packed my football tops and boots!" you smiled cheekily with a hint of sass in your tone making the two midfielders burst out laughing as your eyebrows furrowed a little wondering what was so funny.

"i'll hold you to that!"

"me too!"

the original plan for flying to australia was that you flew over with alessia's parents and brothers a few weeks later when the team had gotten settled — alessia originally thinking it would make it more smoother for the transition from one side of the world to the other.

however, as days went on alessia and the departure date loomed closer the blonde realised how much she didn't want to be away from her tiny terror for that length of time. instead changing the plan last minute, and getting your suitcase packed.

"lovie?" you heard your mum call out but where still in conversation with georgia and keira about the animals in australia and how you definitely didn't want to bump into any eight legged creatures.

"tiny, i think your mum wants you" keira tapped you on the shoulder pointing in the direction of where alessia was stood your backpack in one hand as her big pink bag hung from her shoulder.

sliding down georgia's side you yelled a quick bye as you ran off back towards your mum, "there you are! where you been!"

"talking with georgia and keira bout animals!" you beamed as alessia hummed in amusement as she crouched down to your height, zipping your little jacket back up as well as putting it back on your shoulders as it had slouched down.

"have you got esme?” alessia asked standing back up as you looked around, twirling around in a circle for your elephant teddy. your comfort teddy which you’d had since you were little however naming the teddy when you got a little older.

“um, oh she’s here!” you mumbled in a hurry to get the teddy from the table lifting the toy up in the air as if it were a trophy as alessia smiled, holding her hand out for you to grab as boarding had started.

walking along the tunnel to the plane, the chatter of the other lionesses filling up the small area. you looking around soaking in the whole thing it being a big adventure to you as a smile had not once left your little face.

“smile lovie!” your mummy nudged you out of your own little word as she pointed to the team of lionesses photographers holding there big cameras. you giving a small and shy smile as well as a wave before jumping the big small gap onto the plane.

“hello!” you waved to the flight attendants who were stood welcoming everyone onto the aircraft, the two flight attendants giving a big smile and wave matching your own little bubble of energy.

walking down the isle, saying a little hi to the lionesses who were already in their seats as alessia guided you both to your seats. “y/n, we are here” your mummy called out as you had walked a few seats ahead of her.

climbing into your seat, which was closest to the window as you watched the men on the ground load the bags and suitcases onto the bottom of the plane. alessia on the other hand began to sort through everything she would need in order to get through the twelve hour flight to sydney airport.

“boo!” you cheered as you jumped up at the back of your seat, scaring the person who was sitting behind you. millie jumping slightly as a bright smile appeared on her face as she looked up from her phone to see your head poking over the back of the seat with a cheeky look on your face.

“hello cheeky!” millie smiled sticking her tongue out as you returned the smile while also sticking your own tongue out back at the blonde. “who sitting there?” you asked pointing to the seat next to her — taking note of the face she wasn’t with her usual right hand, rachel daly.

“rach of course!” mille said as your face grew confused, “she’s down there with the important people asking boring questions!” millie pointed down towards the front of the plane hoping you now understood, exaggerating the word boring as she said it.

your confused look slowly rising, “oh!”

the long journey had begun and alessia was quite surprised as how well you were actually behaving, as she had definitely planned for worse. but the blonde had also been quickly reminded herself that there was still a lot of time to go — the flight only being 6 hours in, so there was most definitely time.

you were sat snuggled in your blanket with esme your elephant, watching a series of children programmes in the tv that was in the back of the seat. your pink princess head phones which sat proudly on top of your head, a small smile appearing on your face every so often when something funny happened on the screen.

most of the girls were asleep after being urged to sleep now by the team managers as it was in line with the time zone change that would happen. alessia had gotten around two hours of sleep, before you had woken her up tapping her in the arm as you’d dropped esme under the seat in front of you and your small arms were unable to reach it.

“mummy” you whispered, tapping your mum on the arm once again as she was half asleep, alessia mumbling for you to carry on.

“i go find someone to colour with?” you asked a small pout appearing on your face as you were sat with your colouring pens and books hugged up to your chest after you’d found them in your backpack.

“yes, but-“ you were quick to slide right off your seat at the response however your mum stopped you from running out into the isle with her foot. “but, lovie please don’t wake up any of the girls if they are asleep, okay?” alessia had a stern look on her face as you nodded.

“okay!” you beamed, alessia kissing your forehead before letting you walk off down the aircraft your colouring supplies bundled in your arms.

walking along the isle carefully not to drop anything, as you finally found one of the girls who wasn’t asleep — ella!

“auntie el” you tapped the midfielder who was watching a show on her ipad, headphones in totally unaware of her surroundings. a smile appearing on the brunettes face as she turning to see you poking her arm.

“hi tiny! what’s wrong?” ella whispered lifting you onto her lap while also being careful not to wake the sleeping georgia stanway beside her.

“need someone to colour with me” you smiled sweetly while holding up your colouring supplies proudly, hoping that ella would sit and colour with you as there was not many other girls who were awake.

ella’s heart melting at the sight, “well what are my options then” the midflieder asked pointing to the books in your hand. you setting out the three options on the little table.

“princess one, animal or random one!” you pointed to each book as ella sat deep in though assessing her options.

“oo tough choice — which are you going first?” ella asked, over exaggerating her thinking face as you pointed to the one you were doing — the book filled with random colouring pages.

once ella had chosen her colouring book, the two of you made small talk filling ella in on all the things you had done on the first flight and this flight. ella’s smile big as she listened to you as you sat concentrated hard trying not to colour over the lines.

“finished!”

you held up your picture in front of ella, the picture being of twenty-four people all frawn with there own little personalities and a small name scribbled underneath them.

“whose all them people?" ella asked, as you sighed beginning her explanation. talking through each drawing.

“there's mummy with number twenty-three, chloe, mary-“ you listed off each player of the england team having drawn them with an england kit on making sure to put the number at which they played

"and then there's you with a number ten and me with number twenty four!" you sat proudly with with ella as she looked at the picture closely a loud laugh coming from the brunette.

“tiny, don’t let your mum see you’ve given her brown hair!”

“my yellow pen ran out” you pouted.

“tooney shut up!” georgia groaned as she began to wake up from all the noise ella was making, you looking between ella and georgia hushed giggled coming from the two of you.

georgia rubbing her eyes before opening them, as you jumped into georgia’s chest, “hi gee!”

“oh hi tiny — what you doing here!”

“me and ella been drawin’ look!” you smiled holding up your picture in front of the girl who smiled sleepily, humming along as you gave the same explanation as you did to ella a few moments earlier.

“how’s my little artist!” you heard your mums voice as you turned around a smile on your face, the plane had began to liven a bit up as most of the girls were now awake.

“look!” you handed your drawing to your mum who looked over it with a smile.

“which ones me?” alessia asked as she looked up from the picture, as you pointed to which one was her. the blondes eyebrows furrowed slightly. “i don’t have brown hair!”

“my yellow pen ran out” you pouted hoping it wasn’t going to upset your mummy too much. “ohh that’s okay — it’s adorable!” she beamed as your pout turned to a big grin.

alessia stood with talking to both ella and georgia for some time as you sat on ella’s knee doodling away on a sheet of paper, the time ticking away before it was time for food.

“right come on little one, let’s get you something to eat!” alessia picked up the other two colouring books off the floor tapping you on the head.

“me eat here” you mumbled carrying on your doodles, alessia shaking her head as a frown began on your face.

“you can come back once you’ve eaten!” your mum compromised as you slowly nodded slipping down from ella’s lap, alessia picking up your colouring supplies as you said a quick bye to ella and georgia before being walked back up the aircraft to your seat.

the rest of the flight went quite smoothly for alessia, you sat eating for best part of half an hour, eating slowly as you watched the tv again.

then once by the time you got bored of that, you sat playing a little game with your mum which she had packed but you soon began to yawn it being a while since you’d had a sleep.

“which film?” alessia asked you as you were snuggled into her arms a blanket laid over you, as you pointed over to a disney film.

you watched majority of the film your finger twirling the end of your hair around it, before you fell asleep. you body going limp as you breathing slowed right down.

and that’s how you spent the last hour and half of the flight, not even waking when the plane hit the ground. however alessia then had the trouble of carrying you off the flight along with your backpack and her bag.

"tiny! we're here!" ella and georgia yelled together from behind alessia as you were being carried in alessia's arms unable to see that you were asleep.

alessia sending the pair a death stare, before swotting them on the shoulder as she shushed them. the pair making an oh sound as they quickly apologised moving up the line of lionesses as the group walked through the arrivals part of the airport.

it was both a blessing and a curse that you had fallen asleep when you did. a blessing because it meant that you would start on the australian time zone it being around eight at night when the plane had landed but a curse as it meant alessia had to carry you.

your big adventure down under was just beginning.

liked by keirawalsh and 738,246 others

alessia tiny on tour starts now! 🐨🌏🇦🇺🩵

comments —

ellatoone coolest one in the team!

1h         451 likes reply

-> stanwaygeorgia you said i was cool!

-> ellatoone yeh but tiny is coolER

lucybronze our little explorer🥹

1h         230 likes reply

maryearps can’t wait to see her face when she see the kangaroo

1h         107 likes reply

-> alessia betting on the chance of her crying and being scared of them icl

‘

[writergirlll]

can you write something about F1 driver (doesn't matter who) x reader, when they were best friends since childhood, but then suddenly they become strangers. no one knows how, why, and not even themselves, until they meet at the Las Vegas GP after a long absence..

Yeah suree. (I know this is pretty bad, but I wrote this late at night, so sorry, I'll just get better!!)

CHILD MEMORIES /LH44

Lewis Hamilton x reader

I don't know why I put Lewis, but somehow he fit me there..

words: 2k+

You were everything. You brightened up anyone, you laughed at everything, you were the sun of Mercedes. Everyone loved you, you were inseparable.

You and Lewis have been best friends since birth. Your families were close, so you practically had no choice but to hang out with each other. But the decision was great!

You spent whole days together, the same kindergarten, elementary school and then high school. You weren't even separated when Lewis started driving F1 because you followed him to EVERY race. Everyone knew how close you were. Journalists, fans, co-workers of Lewis, your families and you.

That's why you just didn't know what happened. Four months have passed since Lewis' last race. And you haven't seen each other in four months. You didn't know why, you didn't know how.

Lewis stopped texting you, stopped answering your calls, and blocked you pretty much everywhere. You couldn't comment on his posts, you couldn't do anything. When you were waiting for him three days ago after the race, you didn't even get to see him because Russell kicked you out saying that Lewis definitely didn't want to see you.

You didn't understand it at all because you were inseparable and the worst part was that everyone asked you about it. Your whole family asked you, your friends, fans of you and Lewis, or even the press. But you just couldn't answer. You couldn't tell them that you had absolutely no idea what was going on and you wanted to know. You couldn't tell them it was Lewis who cut you off because he would be blamed. And okay, maybe he's ignoring you right now and you don't know why, but you're definitely not a bitch who would betray him and take the blame on him. Yes, he was at fault, but not everyone needs to know that..

And that's why you decided to go to the race in Las Vegas, to find out the answers. You knew it might not be a good idea because you might get fired again and it would be even worse for your psyche, but you had to know the answers. Just had to.

“Y/n no! You're not going to the movies with him” Lewis started yelling at you when you were nine.

,,Why? You are not my mom to order me around. He's nice to me and he doesn't yell at me unlike you" you stuck your tongue out at him and started putting on your mom's lipstick.

"He's not nice. He's just using you" he shook his head and stepped closer to you.

"But he's handsome. You don't know him at all” you mumbled as you concentrated on putting red on your lips.

"I know him. He doesn't do homework at all and his dad is said to have been in prison. He's not nice to me at all" he explained and you turned to him.

“Is it true?” you asked and he nodded quickly, his head almost falling off. "But I already have the tickets and I've made an appointment with him" you whined.

"Then you will come with me and we will write him a letter on the way. He only lives a few minutes away anyway" Lew thought up and you finally went along with his solution.

You took off your lipstick and pulled out a piece of paper and started writing - which looked like a scratch that you weren't going anywhere with. Then you put it in the envelope Lew had made in the meantime, sealed it with saliva, and dropped it in his mailbox when you went to the cinema.

At home, you packed some things, bought tickets and booked a hotel. You told your parents and everyone close to you about your plan and got on the plane.

After a few hours of flight, you finally flew to Las Vegas, called a taxi and went to check into the hotel.

When you did this, you decided it was time to go get answers. You didn't know what you would say to him when you saw him in four months, or if you would see him at all, but you wanted to at least try.

You've been pretty sick these past few months and weeks. You were constantly wondering if it was your fault and what you did wrong. The family told you that it might not be your fault but his, but you just didn't want to believe that Lewis would do something like that. Certainly not the Lewis you knew.

You cried for days and nights and it took you a long time to sort of recover from it. You knew that if Lewis ignored you even today, or didn't let you see him, it would be even worse. But why not give it a try?

You left the hotel straight to the track, where the qualification was supposed to start in an hour so you were hoping to catch Lewis before quali started.

You showed your VIP ticket at the entrance to the track, even though the people at the gate already knew you very well and would have taken you without a ticket, and you headed to the Mercedes garage, more nervous than ever.

You slowly shuffled there, already having several journalists on your neck, which you successfully ignored. And you also successfully ignored the feeling that told you to turn around and not go there at all.

It wasn't long before you saw a boy in a blue jumpsuit who revealed himself to be George Russell. As soon as you approached him, he noticed you and frowned at first before smiling slightly when he saw your expression.

“Y/n hi. You haven't been here long" he said as he walked up to you and gave you a quick hug.

"Yeah well, I didn't have much reason to walk there" you smiled firmly and looked around for Lewis. "Don't you know where Lewis is?" you asked and George's smile immediately disappeared from his face.

"I think he doesn't want to talk to you much. Besides we are going quali in a bit” he said quickly and you frowned.

"I absolutely do not see why you are bodyguarding him, but I want to know the reason why he did this to me. I have a right to know” you got angry.

"I know, I know but..-"

"No, no but. Just let me go to him. I need to know” you whispered the last part of your sentence and with that George pulled away from you leaving you to search the area.

You searched for quite a long time before you finally caught sight of his head. He was already dressed in his racing suit and was looking for something on the table, among all the things. You stopped for a moment before taking a deep breath and stepping forward..

Either it will ruin your life or you will find out the reason..

“Lewis?” your little six year old self whispered and patted little Lewis.

“Yeah” he turned sleepily in his bed and looked at you.

"Could I sleep with you? I'm scared on the floor" you whispered and desperately hoped he would say yes. You were supposed to sleep with him, but since his bed was small, you had to sleep on the floor, which you didn't like.

Little Lewis didn't answer, he just shifted on the bed towards the wall and lifted the covers. You quickly took advantage of this and crawled under the covers, where you snuggled up.

"Thank you so much" you smiled a little and felt tiredness wash over you. Lewis barely nodded, himself already in dreamland and put his arm around your small body and hugged you.

"I love you" you kissed his cheek and rested your head on his shoulder.

"Me too" Lewis smiled, pulling you closer and together you slowly returned to the realm of dreams..

“Lewis?” You asked cautiously, stepping a fair distance away from him to give you some space. You could see a light bulb go off in his head that it was you and he tensed slightly before turning to you.

"What are you doing here?" he asked without a greeting and glared at you. Okay, maybe you really should have stayed home..

"I came to watch the race" you replied because you didn't want to argue right now even though you knew it would most likely end up like that.

"And did you buy VIP tickets?" he rolled his eyes at your stupidity and you couldn't take it anymore.

"Why are you ignoring me? Why did you just do all this overnight" you asked him and even though it was only the first question, tears formed in your eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about" Lewis shook his head and went back to looking for things.

"Lewis, you know it very well. Did I do something wrong? Did I say something wrong? Because I really don't know why you just left me without an explanation after more than 30 years of knowing each other" you frowned and you made him turn around.

"I don't know okay" he started waving his hands and sighed.

“So you don't know?” you whispered, a single tear falling down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away, but Lewis seemed to see it. "After all four months, when I cried constantly because I didn't know the fuck reason why you did it, you're going to tell me that you don't know? You don't even know how much I've been worried about this because how could you when you blocked me everywhere and when I followed you George dumped me” now you started crying.

Looking at your tear covered face, Lewis softened slightly and moved a little closer to you. "I couldn't see you" he only said and looked sympathetic. "I really wanted, I wanted to hug you and explain everything to you, but I couldn't".

"But why"? you sniffed and wiped away the stray tears with the back of your hand - and that there were a lot of them.

"I" he started and ran a hand through his hair without continuing. "Maya, my ex-girlfriend. I started dating her shortly before I cut you off, you didn't even get to know her. She was very angry that I was talking to you and on top of that the whole team said that I was fired by you because I wasn't winning so many races, so I thought this would be the easiest solution. I knew it was definitely wrong, but it was the easiest. But when Maya broke up with me a month ago because she found someone else, I didn't have the strength to go to you. I knew you'd be mad. I knew I messed up terribly. Please forgive me. Please" now he started crying too.

His explanation left you completely shocked. You didn't know what to say to that. You may have understood Maya because you yourself have experienced that a person behaves differently under the pressure of a loved one, but that his team said are you distracting him?

“So this was the easiest solution?” you finally asked.

"Yes. No. I don't know. I really don't know, please forgive me. I understand what you had to go through and I don't want to lose all those years when we were kids and teenagers" he begged walking closer to you before wiping your wet cheeks with his big hands.

"And Mercedes thinks I'm distracting you"?

"Well, George doesn't. The other teams didn't either, but we really had a tough season, everyone thought differently, they certainly didn't mean it" he hugged you tightly and didn't want to let go.

You wrapped your arms around his back and he wrapped his around your waist. "Let's not lose all our friendship, please. I'll do anything" he whispered in your ear and you nodded.

He might have done a bad thing that cost you an extreme amount of tears and everything, but he was still Lewis, who you had loved since birth and who would never knowingly do something so horrible.

"Lew i don't want to lose our friendship either. But I will remember what you did. And I also hope that your Maya, who is probably a nice bitch by the way, doesn't show up in my life" you laughed lightly and Lewis too.

So in the end it turned out to be a good decision to go to Las Vegas...

“What if we never see each other again?” you sighed and looked deeply into the eyes of your best friend of 15 years.

"We'll see. I'm only going there for a few days for now, but you'll be able to go to my races. I'll give you a discount" he smiled at you seeing your concern and you shook your head.

Lew got an offer to F1, when they invited him to an audition and if he succeeded, he would go to junior competitions for a few years in Italy.

"You can't leave me here" you shook your head once more and pulled him into a hug.

"I won't let. Never. Best friends forever"?

"Best Friends Forever".

[pricklenettle]

Parent's Ghost

This is my fic for @ecto-implosion! I wrote it based on the art by the talented @jackalspine

The little ectoblobs are made of the emotional residue of the creatures around them like dust bunnies. The Fenton house is full of both ectoplasm and emotional residue. So what happens after Danny is injured by his parents?

WC: 4,795

AO3 link

_______

Danny walked along the power lines. Not on the ground, that was for people who liked getting doused with rain water everytime a car came by. It was way cooler strolling along, way above the headlights cutting blindly through the splintery drizzle that made this evening’s twilight so dim. Danny adroitly floated around a buzzing insulator that snapped testilly at every rain drop. He continued his stroll, placing his feet just a finger’s breadth above the black wire.

He supposed he should be grateful for the drizzle, and the quiet evening that was proof of the apparent absence of ghosts to hunt. But really, he was bored. Bored, and his brain was starting to prickle with dread as calculus equations and handwritten paragraphs echoed sinisterly in the back of his mind. The image of the homework he’d left piled in his room loomed closer over the horizon. On top was the English paper Lancer had assigned him. 

He’d written two sentences for the paper’s intro before flying out his window to patrol. So far it was disappointing him. He’d found a wisp of a ghost bear rooting around in the Nasty Burger dumpster and an old granny who wasn’t bothering anybody except the park’s population of stray cats. It was getting uncomfortably more obvious that tonight his biggest responsibility was going to be his homework. 

Danny wrinkled his face. Figures, the one night he wanted a distraction, Amity decided it was time for peaceful quiet. 

Even though he knew he should be heading home he just kept walking along the wire. He folded his arms behind his head and kept an eye upward, hoping the clouds would break up. 

It was just on the edge of too cold. The drops that hit his shoulders and head were like needling icy fingers, prodding him to go home and take cover inside six warm walls. Leave the world to the rain to whom it belonged. He stuck his tongue out at the sky and pulled his phone out of his belt pouch. 

The cracked screen pulsed unhappily at him with aberrant colors. He tilted it forward, trying to shield it from the beads of water that rolled off it with bent light. There were no new messages from Sam, but Tucker was asking about that English assignment. Danny groaned and scrubbed his fingers through his hair in frustration. He knew what he should be doing, the universe knew what he should be doing, he’d cut off his toes and feed it to the resident ghost cats before he wrote one more word tonight. He locked his ankles together, drifting a little higher over the powerline while he texted back. 

“Hey, Ghost scum!” was his only warning before something exploded off to his left. The acid green light of ecto-based ammunition froze the rain in the air in a single flash. It competed and instantly won against the dim sky, lighting up the undersides of tree limbs and throwing everything into a sharp lime light. 

Danny automatically threw his hands over his face, then flew up, searching the ground through the spots in his vision for the interrupters. 

“Damn it, Mads, I missed him again,” came the only slightly quieter voice. Danny’s grin spread sharply when he spotted his mom and dad crouched behind some bushes. 

He floated tauntingly lower. “Hey, I was walking there. How’d you like it if I threw missiles at you when you were on an evening stroll?”

“I’d say you were showing off your true nature, ghost,” Jack cried, pointing a finger at him. The shiny black rubber of his gloves reflected the yellow globe of the streetlight that hummed, lonely in the rain. The single illumination of the deserted road. “An evil, mindless blob of ectoplasmic residue that’s grown too comfortable in the mortal plane.”

Danny hovered in place, daring on whatever happened next. “At least I’d be able to hit you, in that way I am pretty good.”

Maddy was scrambling to quickly reload the gun. It looked like pretty heavy artillery. It might be strong enough to blow him to pieces if the spots still dancing in his vision were anything to believe. Of course, it would have to hit him first. Lucky for him, it looked like it was going to take Maddy a while, and Danny had plenty of time to antagonize his parents. He floated lower, leaning back in the air and crossing his legs. “Don’t you two have somewhere better to be than out in the rain following an innocent ghost around?”

“No such thing,” Maddy hissed, still fighting over the guts of the big gun. 

“Menace to society you mean,” Jack shouted up.

Danny stuck his tongue out at them and raised his arms with limp wrists like the classic ghost. “Boo.”

“You won’t be saying boo when my wife reloads and splatters your ectoplasm– er,”

Maddy threw down her new rocket launcher in disgust. 

“No good, Mad’s?”

Danny looked on in utter delight as Maddie began riffling through the duffle bag at their feet. “I can’t get the damn thing to work with this rain.”

“My bad, Honey. In mark two, I’ll prioritize simplification and ease of use.”

“You can’t have everything in one gun, dear, your design is wonderful just as it is. Only a little tweaking I think.” Danny gagged overtop of them before they could get really sappy. They whipped back around, on guard again. Maddy stood up from the duffle bag this time with the net gun in her hands. She braced herself to fire. 

Danny sighed and shook his head. “You folks need to figure out when it’s time to pack up and save it for another day.” He accumulated a ball of ectoplasm between his fingers and lobbed it at Maddie’s feet. She dived to the side and came up on her knees. They locked eyes and she pulled the trigger. The net burst out with a puff of gunpowder. 

Danny flew to the side, but a corner of the net collided with his leg. The cords snapped around his boot, quickly tangling when he tried to shake it off. He grumbled, annoyed. But still, no problem. The cord was treated to be anti ghost so he couldn’t phase out, but he had a lot of energy humming in his chest that had gone unused all day long. He smiled grimly. So, they wanted to catch a ghost? This was going to be fun. He twisted around and propelled himself up above the treeline. Maddy yelped beneath him. He glanced back to see her feet were dragging in the ground and she was barely holding onto the gun over her head. He put on another burst of speed and her toes lifted off the ground. 

Jack leaped to grab it from her. He braced his feet and grunted with the strain of holding Danny earthward. She let him have it and ran back for the duffel bag. Danny wasn’t quite strong enough to lift Jack off his feet, not without phasing the big man partly out of the physical world. Danny soon found himself fighting just to stay in the air. 

Jack clung onto the rope doggedly. They both seemed pretty determined today to reel him in. No matter how he flew Jack was stubbornly holding on. As though he actually believed he and the phase-proof line could reassert the laws of gravity that Danny had gotten so used to ignoring. 

He was starting to feel a little too much like a toy kite for his liking. Careful to keep the line taut, he bent over his leg to tug at the tangled cords of the net. He was just starting to make progress, a pile of freed loops dropping to hang form his boot, when he heard a pop from below. An instant later a bolt screamed through his arm. He recoiled, grabbing his arm tight. 

The ectoplasm of his arm had been sheered away and hollowed out like a stick of butter in a microwave. Beads of ectoplasm rolled over the creases of his white gloves. 

Looked like Maddy had finally got the gun to work again.

“Hey,” he yelled down. “You missed my vital organs. For all the time you spend hunting me, I’d expect you’d at least be good at it!” He aimed down along the perfectly straight line drawn between him and his dad. As perfect as a math equation, from point a to point b. He didn’t even have to aim. 

Jack dropped backward, electric green smoldering in his orange jumpsuit. Danny buoyed up into the air, cord and gun and all. He would have gotten away then, and he was already thinking about what in hell he was going to write for his damned English paper. 

Maddy dropped the gun and leaped over Jack. She jumped for the cord before it could get away from her. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the gun, jerking Danny back down. She’d pulled something out of her jumpsuit. Danny saw the flash of the Fenton Ghost Taser™ an instant before she pressed it against the taut cord. 

Danny cried out. His body instantly seized up, all his muscles vibrating, making his teeth chatter together. The searing pain that traced the path of the electricity came as a secondary thunder clap. He dropped out of the air. 

He hit the first branches like a second shock. Thousands of tiny twigs crackled under his descent. As he traveled lower he hit branches that bent, then broke. He caught a glimpse of the ground. All scattered with brown, lance shaped leaves. Then he hit.

***

“Ow,” he groaned, pushing himself up. He batted bits of dead leaves out of his hair and suit, making sure he was all still there. He felt like his parents had hit him with the earth like a wrecking ball. He looked up, staggering a little with the tilt in perspective, up through the hole he’d smashed through the perfectly nice canopy the tree had been working on for who knew how long. Maybe he’d been the wrecking ball. 

He had to sit down a moment, his entire body felt burned and achy from the taser. He fished one spikey piece of branch out of the side of his boot. He’d taken bigger hits and farther falls, but when he couldn’t catch himself the stupid part of him still expected to die everytime. He looked up again, ignoring the ringing in his head. He’d fallen into a damn thick patch of alders and bushes— honestly amazing he’d found any flat hard ground to hit at all.

The phase-proof cord— one end still tangled around his leg, wandered off into the underbrush. He could hear his parents thrashing around in the distance. 

Danny quickly shook off his distraction and jammed his fingers into the knotted mess around his leg. He worked and pulled at the strands, brow furrowed into determined concentration. If he turned human he could slip out in an instant, but he didn’t want to risk one of his parents spotting it through the bushes. He kept glancing up to check how close they’d gotten before returning to the net. Of all the things, why did he not keep a knife on him? His parents had made a ghost thermos and laser lipstick. Why not a Fenton Knife™?

Their crashing was getting closer. He stubbornly kept his head down, focused on his scrambling fingers and ignoring the loud sounds of Jack and Maddy following the anti-ghost cord right to him. He just needed to figure out where it had gotten tangled. A careless movement reminded him of the hole seared into his arm. Oh, ow. He’d almost forgotten about that. 

There, he’d found an edge. He freed it from a few misplaced cords, then twisted it, wrapped it back, passed it under his leg, and finally he could pull his leg free. He kicked the limp coil of net away and climbed to his feet. He could see patches of orange jumpsuit through the trees now. He gritted his teeth, pushing down the temper he could feel rearing up. They didn’t know— no. They didn’t care. He’d turned into a ghost under their noses, in their own workshop, and they’d never even noticed. 

He tested his arm with a hand. He still could barely feel it but he could already tell it was going to hurt when he got home and slipped back into his human skin. He winced when his fingers came away green. 

Danny stepped up into the air, flickering out of the visible spectrum.

***

The drizzle was still hesitant to turn into an actual rain when Danny floated outside his home. The neon sign buzzed faintly, briefly illuminating the drops that fell from the sky green, as though it was raining ectoplasm. 

Carefully, Danny pulled open his window and slipped inside. He let go of his invisibility and dropped heavily to the floor. A blanket he’d kicked off the bed bunched uncomfortably under his back and elbow, and his boot was chewing up the pages of a book he’d left open in the middle of the room, but right now he didn’t care. 

He stared up at his ceiling, at the sickly plastic of his glow-in-the-dark stars. It wasn’t dark enough yet for them to light up. The drizzle patted softly against the roof, like the Fenton building was a strange and unusual cat it didn’t quite know how to stroke. His arm ached dreadfully but he ignored it. A glancing thought reminded him of the English paper he’d sworn he’d finish tonight. He turned over, squeezing his fingers into his torn up arm. He scowled into the dark shadows that clung to the floor of his room. He’d do it tomorrow.

***

He came out of a dull fog with something nudging his leg. He hissed and kicked at it, then groaned. He was so sore from the electricity that had pulsed  through ever fiber of muscle he owned. He cracked an eye open. It was dark. Rain shadows mottled the dim light from the neon sign outside that the window cast onto the floor beside him. The constant buzz of rain on the roof made him realize he was still cold and damp. He curled tighter into himself, closing his eyes to try and go back to sleep. Well, it had decided to rain after all.

Another nudge against his leg made him open his eyes in annoyance. It was a tiny blob ghost, apparently small enough to get past his parents' sensors and definitely too small to cause real trouble. It sat in a ball by his foot, gazing him down with softly glowing red eyes. 

“Shoo,” he said crossly. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Instead of going away, it drifted up closer to his face. It was certainly brazen in the face of a much stronger ghost. Danny drew himself up into a half crouch, unwilling to let even this mindless blob catch him down and out. “You should get going, you don’t want my parents to see you hanging around.” 

Instead of listening to him, the blob rolled up to his hand. The surface of its ectoplasm rippled and then it plopped up a wet wad of bandages. 

“Eeew, that’s gross.” But it did make Danny think to look at his injured arm. He grimaced. That gun was seriously concentrated. His arm was still hollowed out and dripping with green slime. He’d been slowly leaking as he slept and it had left a dark, wet spot on his twisted blanket that gleamed dully in the low light. “Shoot.”

The small blob made a tiny murmuring chirp. He looked back down at it and it nudged his hand. He’d never met a blob ghost so friendly. The ones he occasionally spotted in the house seemed peaceable enough, but he never let them get close. They were like fruit flies, they just appeared where their sustenance was. Normally they coalesced after fights, drawn to the spilled ectoplasm like ramora to sharks. Or maybe they were created by it. Who knows. They were skittish, unfriendly, and prone to hurting pets. He didn’t really know how to react to this one trying to cuddle up to him.

When its insistent bumps got no reaction, the blob instead snagged his sleeve. It bobbed up in the air, tugging him to stand up. 

Suddenly there was another blob. It floated out from under his bed and tugged on his pant leg, seemingly for the same purpose. 

Bemused, Danny stood. The room tilted. For a moment he couldn’t move except to sway on his legs. He almost jumped out of his skin when a third blob ghost appeared over his shoulder. It settled as solidly as a blob could on its perch and hummed and chirped in his ear. Its firm press reminded him of when his dad would clap him on the shoulder, his big warm hand a steadying weight. 

The blob ghosts were still tugging on his clothes. So, Danny obeyed. He tottered tiredly toward his bed. He made the bed every day, but the blob ghosts must have been rifling through his room before they woke him up because all the blankets were half off. 

Irritated, he fell into bed. He sighed as his pillow recieved his head with a puff. His ssense of gravity became even looser as the pillow cradled his skull. He might have been floating as unmoored as he felt. How he’d missed it. Did it seem poofier today or was he just really happy to be in bed?

He shivered at the cold sheets and shifted to curl into a ball, but the blob ghost was still holding onto his sleeve. He lifted his head to show a threatening row of teeth, but he didn’t have the energy for much else. He flared the energy of his core. It had never failed to to send blobs darting away like frightened mice. These ones didn’t.

The big one that had sat on his shoulder floated through the air, a long trail of white bandage fluttering beneath it like a tail. Danny was starting to be amused. At least this bandage wasn’t already sopping with ectoplasm. 

The big blob hovered over the bed, edging the bandage closer to his wound. He didn’t know how to tell these things that you were supposed to disinfect stuff first. Whatever, at least it would stop him from soaking the mattress. He could deal with things properly tomorrow. In the morning when he felt less like a dead boy barely filling in his human skin. Yeah, whenever that happened. 

***

He’d figured out how to scare them off the night he’d been following the trail of a giant, mutant ghost snake. He’d been chasing it for most of the night and the snake had left it’s mark on him and a large chunk of Amity Park. He’d been pretty sure it was dead but he didn’t want that one coming back to life to bite him in the ass. Again. 

He’d found it in an old alleyway, its coils half hidden by mounds of trash. The huge snake had stopped moving. It was losing clarity fast and its scales were melting into the broken asphalt. The ambient ectoplasm its blood had added to the air made a glowing haze over the alley. It was also swarming with blobs. Like busy ants they flocked from one wound to the next, soaking it in like sugar water. 

Danny had taken a step back, just like anyone who turned over a log and found it crawling with maggots. Danny blinked at them, squinting with one eye crusted half shut from the fight and the other rubbery with exhaustion. The way the blobs swarmed over the ghost’s corpse before it had even bled away out of their physical world made shivers prickle all over his shoulders. Slowly he backed away. He’d confirmed the snake wouldn’t be a threat anymore, his job was done. 

He’d intended to leave the scene and creep away to finally go home, when his leg gave out and he slipped on the pavement. all the milling pairs of red eyes snapped to him. They hissed like a multi-tongued hoard of snakes. Automatically, Danny flared his core. He’d gritted his teeth, staring them down, thinking very hard about how much bigger and fiercer he was, how easy to squish them and fight them off his prey. The hand in front of him gained an unnatural edge, like a glowing afterimage. All the ghosts immediately fled, abandoning their immense feast.

After that he’d never had much trouble with the smaller ghosts. It didn’t make sense that these ones weren’t bothered about it. 

Danny took the bandage from the bigger blob and pinched it to his arm, intending to wind it around with his teeth. Instead, the three blob ghosts seized it from him, letting him hold it in place while they passed it back and forth around his arm. Danny didn’t have to do anything before he was looking at a tidily wrapped bandage. He wasn’t even seeping through them yet. 

“Thank you.” Uneasily he settled back onto his pillow, warily watching the blobs flit around like alien lights through half closed eyes.

The blob ghosts drifted like flotsam, their cool glow sliding over his freezing sheets to the glistening wood of his bedpost, then back again to bead on the dark wetness he’d spread on the floor and under his dry eyelids. His sight blurred and he realized again how tired he was, but now he’d been roused twice. He couldn’t relax with the huge, cold night huddling in the space of his bedroom. Especially not with the strange ghosts, mindless and helpful though they seemed to be.

The blobs didn’t seem to realize. They briefly floated down out of sight then reappeared holding up a blanket between them. As gently and softly as could be, they drew it over him. Two of them churred soothingly and patted the blanket around him as though they were trying to tuck him in. Danny wanted to laugh but instead he found himself sinking into his pillow, eyes blinking shut. After all, why shoo them off, he could defend himself from a couple of blobs. He yawned broadly. The third blob ghost drifted down to alight on his forehead, unexpectedly similar to the softness of a cool hand against a fever. Danny sighed and let it stay there. He already felt warmth spreading over him from the blankets, he was afraid to move or it would go away. 

The other blob ghosts settled onto his blanket around his legs. Their light dimmed as though they were going to sleep. He finally relaxed enough for the transformation to slip over his head and down his legs. He shivered furiously for a moment, like the first steps out of a cold pool where he’d acclimated to a chill sort-of-comfort and then into biting wind. Before long real warmth stole over him. 

The blob resting on his forehead began to hum. Even through his sleep drenched brain he recognised it. It was a silly song that his parents had liked and turned into a lullaby, just like every parent does. Whenever this one came onto the radio Danny was jolted back to when he was a kid and soothed into a warm bed on a close and sleepy evening. When he was a kid he’d practically vibrated with too much energy. When he couldn’t sleep Maddie would hold him wrapped in a blanket in her lap, singing that song and rocking back and forth, sometimes flubbing and making up her own words.

They needed the lullaby a lot when he was a kid. Some nights it was the only way to keep him in bed. It was a song for a too long road trip when he’d sent the entire car into seismic shifts from his carseat while the windshield wipers worked madly and Jazz was yelling at him for kicking her seat. The song was for a hospital visit where the cold room and unfamiliar walls was more disturbing than the pain in his broken arm. In the past it had never failed to lull him to sleep.

Somehow he hadn’t heard it in a long time. He didn’t miss it, it was just one of those things you naturally left behind as time passed. He wasn’t a baby anymore and Maddie didn’t need to sing it to get him to shut up for five seconds. He didn’t even remember the funny words she’d made up for it. His eyes drifted closed as he tried to mumble them and somehow dredge them up from deep in his mind. He’d almost completely forgotten it. He wondered where this blob had picked it up.

All the wondering he could do ran away from him quickly. His consciousness spun out like a ball of yarn leading him to sleep. The tune dropped him back into those years of falling asleep with his mom’s cheek next to his and finally his brain stopped thinking and let him drift off into deep dreamless sleep.

***

Jack and Maddie came home in the stillness of the hour between night and morning. It had stopped raining but they were drenched and stuck all over with orange pineneedles and other forest detritus. They were tired and trudged heavily through the door, not wanting to wake anyone up. There were twigs and leaves in Jack’s hair and a spray of thorns caught in the weave of Maddie’s suit. She smiled working it free but there was no real mirth behind it. Just tiredness.

They’d found no ghost in their net. But they’d been so sure a ghost couldn’t escape it, and a hit from Maddie’s new gun, on top of a shock from the Fenton Taser™ without being seriously damaged and power drained. So they’d combed the area again. They’d found not a sign of the ghost. They supposed that they’d never know until the next dogfight if that one had survived or had dissolved into whatever aether the scraps of human consciousness were bound for. 

They dumped their tangled and scraped up gear in a pile. Neither of them said anything. Without a word they left it there and took the stairs. Jack looked at the back of his wife’s neck. He might not be good at reading people but he’d known her long enough. All these ghosts were fascinating, they’d never had more work. But the rest of Amity didn’t exactly agree with their glee. Some nights the sheer amount of ghostly activity was overwhelming. And they were strong enough to be actually capable of real property damage! Who knew what else. The sooner they could stuff these spooks back where they came from the better. But this wasn’t what was bothering Maddy. Jack knew the problem that was puzzling her now was Danny. It was frustrating. Life would be so much easier if people could just say what they were thinking.

If only he could figure out the problem. 

Again, without words, they stopped in front of Danny’s door. Dread was boiling in Maddie’s stomach, there’d been so many nights she’d known he’d snuck out. Some nights he just never came home. Jack’s large arm reached past her to press against the door. He eased it open with both hands, For once he payed special attention to not bump anything thoughtlessly. Danny’s room was dark, the only light inside came from the warm stripes that escaped from the hallway lamp around their legs and the dim stick on stars that littered the ceiling. It was messy, as usual. Leaves of homework were layered over his desk and books lay open all over the floor. Drifts of clothes made sedimentary layers in the corners of the room. Jack couldn’t help his well of fondness at the sight. Danny was a still form on the bed. Silent asleep, as he should be. 

Jack sniffed, was the ectoplasm smell stronger here? He glanced around briefly; bed, desk, floor— then shrugged. It was everywhere in the house. It was their fault really, always mixing work and family life.  

Jack looked down and realized neither of them had pushed one toe over the carpet line into his room. It was just as good as a wall. 

Maddie’s mouth worked as though she was chewing over a mouthful of words that needed to be said, no matter how silently. She finally whispered. “Good night, Danny.”

And then they left as carefully as they had come. 

[worseforwords]

Crescendo

(Alessia Russo x Reader)

Chapter III of Marshmallow

The Monday after the weekend off marked the return to training. As you locked your car door and approached the training center, your mind still replayed the events of the past weekend.

“Hi!” A sweet voice brought you back to the present. You turned around to meet Alessia’s now all-too-familiar blue eyes. “Morning Marshmallow,” you said, a half-smile playing on your lips. “So, I guess we're back to normal now, huh?” you said.

“Yeah, friends,” she replied as the two of you strolled towards the building. As you entered the changing room together, Katie let out a dramatic wolf whistle. “Well, well, if it isn’t our two lovebirds! I guess you’ve just moved in together already.”

Laughter echoed as you shot Katie a playful glare. The spotlight was on the two of you, and everyone seemed curious about the weekend’s charade. Vic decided to get straight to the point. “So, spill it. How’d it go? Your parents buy the whole lovey-dovey act?” She asked.

You nodded, trying to play down the attention. “Yeah, they bought it.” As you moved to take a seat next to Leah, Alessia found her own place, and the atmosphere in the room buzzed with curiosity. Beth couldn’t resist chiming in, “Really? You actually pulled it off?”

“Alessia here was playing the ideal daughter-in-law. Perfect performance,” you said with a smirk, earning a few chuckles. You were hoping to leave it at that, which was of course too good to be true. “So what’s the next act? Break up after a while?” Vic inquired.

Before you could respond, Alessia jumped in, “Actually, Y/N’s sister is getting married in Paris next month, and we’re going together.” Jaws practically hit the floor. “Paris!?” Katie exclaimed, clearly taken aback.

“Yeah, why not? Always wanted to go, and it’s a free trip with a friend.” Alessia said with a casual shrug. For some reason, the word ‘friend’ hit you like a sudden jolt, though you knew she wasn’t lying. You noticed yourself zoning out as the conversation continued on the other side of the room. “Hey, are you okay?” Leah suddenly asked quietly, noticing your distant expression.

“Yeah, fine,” you replied, but the truth lingered beneath the surface. You busied yourself with your shoelaces, gaze straight to the floor. “You know, I’m surprised your parents bought your little act. You’re not exactly a great liar Y/N/N,” she said as you both got up to leave the changing room, clearly not fooled by your tough act.

The rest of the month leading up to the dreaded Paris trip went by a lot faster than expected. You and Alessia seamlessly transitioned back into your roles as teammates, though there was an undeniable shift in your relationship. To everyone else, it appeared as if a new friendship was blossoming, but to you, it felt like a delicate dance between savouring your time together and avoiding getting too close.

You enjoyed the conversations you had with her and the occasional playful teasing. Yet, you set unspoken boundaries. The line between friendship and something more blurred at times, and when the teasing veered into the realm of flirtation, you found subtle excuses to distance yourself from the situation. It was a self-imposed rule, a defence mechanism to keep your emotions in check.

When the dreaded weekend arrived, it started on a high. You had won the London derby, the roar of the crowd still echoing in your ears as you and Alessia boarded the plane. An hour and a half flew by as you chatted away about the hard-fought victory. When you landed in Paris, the city of lights welcomed you with a glow that mirrored the spark in Alessia’s eyes.

Stepping into the hotel lobby, Alessia’s hand found its place on the small of your back. It was a simple yet familiar touch, a signal that the roles were back in play – girlfriends for the public eye. In that moment, a surge of conflicting emotions washed over you. The elation from the match, the allure of Paris, and the gentle touch on your back created a concoction of feelings that you knew you would have to suppress all weekend.

When you swung open the door to your shared hotel room for the weekend, you couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping as your eyes scanned the room. Soft, warm lights adorned the walls, casting a gentle glow across the room. The scent of vanilla and lavender wafted through the air, creating an atmosphere that whispered of indulgence and intimacy.

The centrepiece was a double bed, adorned with satin sheets and a multitude of plush pillows, rose petals scattered artfully across the bedspread. The suite, beyond the bedroom, featured a cozy sitting area adorned with plush armchairs and a low coffee table holding an assortment of gourmet chocolates and a bottle of champagne on ice, complementing the romantic atmosphere.

“Well, they really went all out on the couple vibes, didn’t they?” you remarked with a faint grin, glancing at Alessia. She chuckled, seemingly unfazed. “Seems like it. Guess we’ll be embracing the honeymoon suite feel.”

As you walked in, you found a little note sitting on the bedside table. “Your first romantic getaway little sis! Have fun you lovebirds. x Charlotte.” You snorted as you read it out loud to Alessia. “Typical Charlie turning her own wedding into a romantic getaway for someone else,” you remarked.

Alessia giggled as she walked up to the window, taking in the gorgeous view, whilst you found yourself staring at the double bed, only now realising its implications.

“Hm, so,” you cleared your throat. “Since they gave us only one bed...” you paused for a moment as Alessia turned around to look at you. “You can take the bed, and I’ll take the floor. I’ll go request some more blankets.”

Alessia raised an eyebrow playfully. “Come on, Y/N. We’re not twelve. If you’re okay with it, we can share the bed. If not, I’m more than happy to take the floor. Your call.”

“Yeah, sure, no big deal,” you mumbled, trying desperately to sound casual. Alessia flashed a warm smile. “Great! As long as you’re comfortable.” She looked at you in anticipation as if checking once more if it was really okay with you. “Absolutely, all good,” you replied, maybe a bit too quickly.

That night, you had planned to meet your family in the lobby for a drink, whilst Andrew, your sister’s fiancé spent some time with his own family. Alessia, charming as always, effortlessly endeared herself to your family.

The night was a success, with your parents clearly appreciating Alessia’s company. Your brother, Colin, and his wife found her delightful, and even your sister, the bride-to-be, was glad to see you with such a wonderful person—a relief, since Charlotte had a tendency to be very protective over you. Alessia’s ability to navigate through conversations, blending in with your family seamlessly, only solidified the image of her as the perfect girlfriend.

As you all left the venue, there was a warmth in the air—a promise of a beautiful wedding day and a sense that Alessia had, once again, proven her mettle in this elaborate charade. The only challenge, it seemed, was the quiet struggle within you as you continued to suppress the feelings that once again had begun to blossom. Or maybe they had never really stopped.

Later that night, your hotel room was hushed, illuminated only by the soft glow of your nightlight. You sat up against the headboard, engrossed in a book, the occasional rustle of pages filling the silence. Alessia lay beside you, already cocooned in the sheets, her rhythmic breathing like small waves washing over the stillness.

When you had first started reading, Alessia was still scrolling on her phone. Now, however, the sound of soft snores broke your mind away from the captivating narrative of your book. Your eyes wandered to where she was peacefully asleep beside you, and you couldn’t help but let a warm smile form on your face, matching the warmth you felt inside at the sight of her.

With a tender touch, you pulled the blanket further over her, shielding her exposed shoulder from the chill. But as you lingered, you found yourself entranced by the subtle rise and fall of her body with each breath. Your gaze lingered longer than intended, tracing the contours of her form.

Reality snapped back as you became aware you had been staring at your friend for minutes now. In a hurried response, you left your book on the nightstand, turned off the nightlight, and shifted your body down to let your head sink into the pillow.

You briefly stared at the ceiling, but found yourself distracted by the slightest of movements still visible from the corner of your eye as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. Fighting against the current of your emotions, you turned onto your side to face the other side of the bed.

However, even in the absence of her sight, you could feel her presence like a magnetic force against your back. With a racing heart, you stared into the black void, and when the internal struggle reached its peak, you made a decision. Quietly, you slipped out of bed, hoping not to disturb her peaceful slumber. However, Alessia, even in her sleep, seemed attuned to your movements. She stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering open.

“Everything okay?” she mumbled sleepily as she reached for her nightlight. You hesitated for a moment before replying, “Yeah, just can’t sleep.” Alessia, still in a drowsy state, offered a comforting smile. “Tea?” she suggested, the word accompanied by a gentle stretch.

She hardly gave you a chance to protest as she got up to turn on your hotel kettle, returning moments later with two cups of chamomile tea and a soft, sympathetic smile.

A quiet and peaceful minute later, with the cups emptied, Alessia encouraged you to lie back down. “Now turn to your side,” she added. A sense of vulnerability washed over you as you pondered which side, and you hesitated. You ultimately decided to face away from her again, knowing the possibility of feeling her breath on your face was simply too much for you.

Shortly after you moved, however, you felt an arm softly land on yours, gently wrapping itself around you. You tensed up a little at the unexpected contact, but you slowly felt your body relax as Alessia hesitantly edged closer to you. “Is this okay?” she whispered.

The gesture was unexpected, and you felt a mix of emotions. Somehow, it felt right. “Yeah,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible, and she held onto you a little tighter. Had you not been as sleep-deprived, your judgment of the situation might have been different, but in Alessia’s embrace, the room seemed to still, and you gradually drifted into a more peaceful state.

The morning of the wedding greeted you with a soft glow, sunlight streaming into the hotel room. As you opened your eyes, you found yourself in Alessia’s arms, her warmth a comforting presence. The gentle rise and fall of her chest against your back momentarily lulled you into a sense of security.

However, you were quick to resist the allure of the moment. With a silent sigh, you carefully escaped from Alessia’s embrace, not wanting to disturb her peaceful slumber, and slipped into the bathroom.

After your shower, Alessia had woken up and did the same. As she occupied the bathroom, you used the mirror in the bedroom for your little morning chat with yourself. Today’s chat was more of a tirade, spoken with a stern whisper, since the main character was just a door away. You kept it short, deciding to use the time to get dressed.

Earlier this year, prompted by your sister’s wedding announcement, your family had visited to a tailor, which had resulted in a cohesive theme threading through each member’s attire. A shared fabric choice subtly connected all of you in the celebration. Opting for a suit, you added a personal touch underneath—a graceful camisole that exuded both elegance and individuality.

The jacket was expertly tailored, cinching at the waist to accentuate your silhouette. The trousers were tailored to perfection, elongating your legs in a tasteful manner. As you turned back towards the mirror, you felt a sense of confidence wash over you.

However, said confidence disappeared in an instant when a little while later, Alessia emerged from the bathroom. The sight of her took you aback as she looked nothing short of stunning. Her outfit exuded elegance and grace. She wore a floor-length dress with a fitted bodice that accentuated her figure. The colour was a soft, muted tone that complemented her skin beautifully and matched the shade of your camisole. The dress had delicate lace detailing, adding a touch of sophistication. Her hair, styled in loose waves, framed her face with effortless charm. She looked beautiful.

Moments must have gone by as you stared at her before she spoke up. “How do I look?” she asked nervously, eyes moving up from the floor to yours and a shy smile on her face.

The words caught in your throat for a moment before you managed to reply, “Absolutely breathtaking.” The sincerity in your words was undeniable, even as the underlying complexity of the situation lingered. Alessia’s smile widened, appreciating the compliment.

“You look great too,” she said, scanning your suit. “I’ve never seen you in a suit before. It’s— different,” she added. You felt your cheeks flush as every drop of confidence left your body. Different? What on earth did she mean by that?

She must have noticed your slightly somber expression when she added, “Good different, I mean. It’s— I really like it.”

“Oh, thank you,” you said shyly, a soft smile creeping its way onto your face. “So, you ready, marshmallow?” You asked in an attempt to lighten the mood and she giggled. “There’s no way you’re calling me that when I look like this,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Fine. Are you ready, beautiful?” You really meant for that to sound sarcastic but were pretty sure that’s not how it came across. “Yes I am, gorgeous,” she retorted. You extended an elbow and she quickly took the invitation, intertwining her arm with yours as you left your hotel room to meet up with your family.

The ceremony itself, while undoubtedly beautiful, proved to be a bit of a blur. As vows were exchanged and the union was sealed with a kiss, your mind occasionally drifted to the subtle touches exchanged between Alessia and you. All of them part of your charade, of course.

The reception was where the day truly came to life. The venue sparkled with twinkling lights, and soft music wove through the air, casting a dreamlike aura over the celebration. Tables adorned with delicate flowers dotted the space, and laughter echoed as guests mingled. You found yourself mostly sticking by Alessia’s side, introducing her to friends and family.

Caught up in conversation with your cousin, you momentarily lost sight of your pretend girlfriend amidst the laughter and chatter. An undercurrent of panic flitted through you until, scanning the room, you spotted her engaged in a lively conversation with your mom.

As dinner unfolded, the atmosphere transformed with each heartfelt speech. Stories were shared about Charlotte and Andrew, from their initial dislike towards each other when working together to an accidental cooler confinement that changed everything.

Eventually the microphone found its way into your uncle’s hands, who fancied himself a poet after a few drinks. “Life is like music,” he began. "We all navigate through the complex cacophony that is the world as our own melodies. But it’s when we listen to those around us that we find unexpected harmonies.”

Glancing at Alessia, you found her eyes already on you. A shy smile passed between you as you related the poetic metaphor to your own story— the harmony between you and Alessia, unexpected yet undeniable.

“It’s the unexpected that makes both music and life beautiful, but love is not just about one simple harmony,” your uncle continued. “It’s about finding a way to move your melodies in sync, with whatever tempo, pitch, or dynamics the world throws at you. Charlotte, Andrew, I can’t wait to listen from afar to the next movements of the symphony of your love.”

Cheesy as the speech was, your uncle was right. No matter how much you felt the two of you harmonise when you were together, her melody wasn’t in sync with yours. It was with someone else’s.

After dinner came the highlight of the night— the party. The crowd gathered in the grand dance hall, and the band kicked off with some casual tunes. Your sister and her newly-wedded husband valued family a lot, so they wanted you all to be part of the first dance. The newlywed couple would start with a slow song, and as it progressed, close family members would join in. Then you all would do a small routine together to another song.

The original plan was for you to share the dance with your brother, a strategy devised by your mother to prevent you from being on your own. However, with Alessia as your date, plans swiftly changed. Your mother broke the news mere minutes before the grand moment. You attempted to protest by saying Alessia didn’t know the dance. However, unbeknownst to you, when your mom had briefly taken Alessia away during the reception when you whilst chatting away with your cousin, she had quickly taught her the routine.

Nerves began to bubble within your stomach as the band’s singer instructed everyone to form a large circle, with the newlyweds taking center stage. The chosen song for the dance was “Finally // beautiful stranger” by Halsey, a bit of an inside joke as it happened to be Andrew’s ultimate guilty pleasure and a challenge for him to hold back tears.

Nevertheless, to his credit, he continued slow dancing with Charlotte, and your turn was approaching. “Are you sure about this?” you asked Alessia, who responded with a nod, extending her hand for you to hold. You complied, and she practically dragged you onto the dance floor.

Not a fan of the spotlight, your face started heating up as you felt everyone’s eyes on you. Alessia must have noticed your flustered state as she quickly directed your hands to her waist, wrapping her own around your neck. She slowly guided the two of you, swaying to the music as the band launched into the final chorus.

“Beautiful stranger, here you are in my arms And I think it's finally, finally, finally, finally, finally safe For me to fall”

As you looked around you, you felt your palms getting sweaty and your throat closing up. Sensing your nerves, Alessia whispered softly, “It’s okay, just look at me.”

You did as she said, and although her bright blue eyes did not make you any less nervous, her encouraging smile made you temporarily forget about everyone else’s eyes on you, hers the only pair that mattered. Alessia became your anchor on the dance floor, subtly guiding you through the steps.

As the night unfolded into a lively party, drinks flowed freely, and the dance floor beckoned. Your pretend girlfriend, being the new addition to the family, soon found herself surrounded by eager relatives, each wanting to share a toast or pull her into a dance.

You were in the midst of a conversation with your aunt when Alessia suddenly whisked you onto the dance floor. Guiding your hands to her waist once again, she inched closer, and the dance felt different from before, carefree in a way. Her hands explored your body more intimately than usual, and you decided to attribute it to the influence of alcohol and chose to savour the moment.

Just as you were becoming lost in the dance, your brother Colin’s playful interruption cut through the enchantment with a teasing grin. “Hey, lovebirds, mind if I cut in?” His comment, though light-hearted, momentarily disrupted the dance’s spell.

Another interruption followed when Alessia’s phone chimed with an incoming call. She gracefully excused herself, walking away to take the call with an apologetic smile. However, you couldn’t help but glimpse the caller ID on her screen—Dan, accompanied by a little heart emoji.

“Who’s Dan?" Colin inquired, raising a suspicious eyebrow. It seemed you weren’t the only one who had caught a quick glimpse of the screen. “He’s just a friend of Alessia’s,” you quickly replied.

“Why did she add a heart to his name?” he persisted, unwilling to let the topic go. “They’re good friends, like family almost,” you offered in explanation.

“Family? Really? Would you take a photo like that with me?” he skeptically questioned. He seemed to have gotten a better look at the screen than you had thought. “Y/N what’s going on here?”

“Nothing is going on. You’re just looking for drama, that’s what’s going on!” you retorted, shoving your brother away as you headed to the bar, eager to escape the conversation.

Fortunately, Colin didn’t follow you, and you settled onto a barstool with a glass of water to cool down. 

“Hey, did I do something wrong?” Alessia asked when she found you at the bar a little while later. “I just ran into Colin. He was being weird. All of a sudden, he was telling me I can’t hide anything from him,” she explained.

“Shit,” you muttered before pulling Alessia into the hallway and explaining your encounter with your brother. “I don’t know what to do, Less; he might be onto us.”

A hushed silence fell between you as your minds raced to find a solution. “I think I might have an idea,” Alessia suddenly broke the silence, and you looked at her expectantly.

“It’s a bit weird, but don’t freak out please,” she said and you nodded nervously, but you both jumped when Colin’s voice suddenly rang from around the corner, calling out your name.

“Shit okay, no time to explain,” she continued, turning her body towards you. Her blue eyes locked onto yours as she took a deep breath. “Y/N, can I kiss you?”

Perhaps it was the alcohol, the rush of the situation, or simply your brain short-circuiting at the question, but whatever it was, you nodded almost instantly. “Yes?” she asked, seeking assurance, a warm hand cupping your cheek as you closed your eyes.

“Yes.”

The approaching footsteps neared the corner of the hallway where you stood when you suddenly felt a pair of soft lips crash onto yours. For a moment everything around you disappeared. Your hands found her waist once more like on autopilot, and her hand moved to the back of your neck. She slowly walked the two of you backward until you felt your back connect with the cold wall behind you. The kiss was hungry and a little sloppy, nothing like how a first kiss was supposed be, yet you never wanted this moment to end.

Had your brain still been functioning you would’ve realised the heat of it all was due to Alessia trying to perform a convincing drunken make-out. But your brain had little to do with what was happening right now. For a moment, you didn’t think. You disappeared into the kiss easily, as if the two of you had done this numerous times before. Harmony. Synchronisation.

Alessia broke away from you what must have been minutes later, your brother long gone. As you felt your heart all but beat out of your chest, you wondered whether she had noticed that just moments ago when she had you trapped against the wall.

“You think he bought it?” Alessia asked, her warm breath mingling with yours as it took you a while to form an answer. 

“I would assume so,” you finally answered, only now remembering the reason behind the moment you shared.

The party continued in a blur of lights, laughter, and music, but your mind remained in a state of disarray. The hallway kiss with Alessia left you dazed and confused. What did it mean? Why did she do it? The questions swirled in your mind, each one more bewildering than the last. One thing was certain; it didn’t feel like nothing.

As the night wore on, you and Alessia eventually decided to call it a night. The world outside the grand dance hall seemed quieter, and you both made your way back to the hotel room in a companionable silence.

Once inside, the question that had been nagging at you surfaced. “Hey, about the call from your boyfriend earlier, is everything okay?”

Alessia nodded, “Yeah, it’s fine, just had a planning issue,” she explained. Curiosity brimming, you probed further, “Is he really okay with all this?”

She hesitated for a moment. “Yeah, he’s... not really the jealous type,” she finally responded. The air grew heavy as you dared to ask the question that hung in the room, “Are you gonna tell him about the... you know, thing we did earlier?”

“I guess so,” she mumbled casually. “Doesn’t really matter anyways…” Her voice trailed off, and her gaze seemed distant, as if already lost in other thoughts.

That admission hit you like a stab to the heart. It was a stark reminder of the insignificance of the shared moments, at least from her perspective. You fell silent for a while, processing the weight of her words.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Alessia’s voice was filled with concern. You forced a smile, “Yeah, all good. I’m just gonna take a shower.”

In the confined space of the bathroom, the sound of water cascading drowned the noise in your head. You let the water cleanse not only your body but also the lingering confusion and hurt. As you stepped out, Alessia was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps sensing the need for space, she’d let you be.

When Alessia returned, you were already in bed, eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. You remained still when you felt her quietly slip into the other side of the bed.

The next morning was a quiet one. You both packed your belongings and left for the airport, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words. The flight was silent, with occasional glances at each other, a mixture of confusion and hurt and still, for whatever reason, curiosity in your eyes.

Neither of you dared to broach the topic of the previous night’s events. Was it a mistake, a game, or something more? Or was it really nothing? Were you making things up? The questions lingered as the plane landed, and you shared an Uber to take both of you home.

The Uber dropped Alessia off first. As she gathered her things, she turned to you. “Hey, want to come in for a bit?” The question hung in the air, loaded with unspoken implications. You hesitated but agreed, curiosity overcoming your reservations.

Inside her place, the tension was palpable. Alessia attempted to break it with a joke, "So when’s our next performance?”

You forced a chuckle, “Don’t worry, I can come up with excuses for you for the next couple of family events, and after a few months, I’ll just tell them we broke up or something.”

Alessia’s expression shifted, sensing something beneath your words. “Is everything okay, Y/N?” She asked, a concerned look on her face as she tried to catch your gaze, which you avoided.

“Yeah, fine,” you lied. “I’m just not going to drag you to every family thing ever just because you said yes to it once. It was really nice of you to help me, but you should get to spend your time off football with your actual boyfriend.”

“Right, Dan. Y/N, I—” she started but the keys jingling in the door interrupted her. The door opened, and in walked her boyfriend.

He greeted Alessia with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and your heart sank a little as you watched, unable to shake the tinge of jealousy. You wished you could hate him, find some flaw, but he was genuinely a nice guy who had done nothing wrong. Still, you couldn’t help but wish you could recreate the intimacy you shared with Alessia just yesterday, a privilege he seemed to enjoy effortlessly whenever he wanted.

When Dan asked you if you wanted to stay for lunch, you politely declined, saying you already had plans and you excused yourself, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. 

You shut the door to Alessia’s apartment and with it your pretend relationship. Why did this fake break-up hurt so real? 

One thing was for sure, it was all your fault. And still you had a lingering feeling that this wasn’t the last chapter of this strange tale.

---------------

Note: Hi! Just wanted to let you all know that I love hearing what you think about the story thus far and what you would like to see happen next so feel free to leave a comment/ask/message!

-> Chapter IV

[magics-neptunes-things]

American Dream

Hi guys!

I hope you are well :)

A little story with Alessia, I had several requests in my private messages and I hope you like this one!

Enjoy reading and again my suggestion box is open :)

TW: None

______________________________________________________________

As you drive to New York JFK Airport, you can’t contain your excitement. With catchy music on the radio, you zigzag easily between cars to get to your goal faster. Which makes no sense since it probably won’t make your girlfriend arrive faster, since she’s not the one driving the plane.

But in your defense, it’s been since the beginning of the Christmas holidays that you haven’t seen her and your daily Facetime don’t replace by far the smell of her or her hugs. Since you have only been a couple for a few months, you had organized your holiday parties separately. Alessia stayed in England to celebrate with her family while you flew to New York, from where you come, to celebrate with yours. You hope that next year you will manage to do things differently, but at least you will be able to spend a few days and New Year with Alessia before you take a return flight to London together.

The first time you met Alessia, you quickly found yourself having a crush for the pretty blonde. It was on a football pitch, of course. But when you signed your contract for Arsenal after finishing the one at Real Madrid, you fell in love with her. Her smile, her kindness, her blue eyes and every part of her being, finally.

By incredible luck, these feelings quickly turned out to be shared and it was a real thunderbolt that shook you both. Both singles, you didn’t wait long before asking Alessia for a date, who gladly agreed. You can’t count the moments you shared face to face with her, but you never get tired of it. You were afraid at first that your feelings would go away as quickly as they came, but now it’s been almost six months and they are only increasing.

Alessia’s brother set off on a world tour on 27 December, Alessia flew with her parents a few hours after his departure. However, her parents decided to rent a hotel, offering themselves a romantic stay. Besides, they will leave after Alessia and you.

While waiting for Alessia and her parents to arrive, you check your messages and smile as you see the photos that Beth and Viv sent you of your dog. They are the ones who keep him during your absence and you are happy to see that he seems to get along very well with Myle. The time to answer Viv and go around the waiting hall several times, you finally see a blonde head that you know well pass the last security doors.

Your hesitation to run to take her in your arms lasts a few seconds- she’s with her parents after all. But the smile she gives you when she sees you melts your heart and you hurry to reach her height.

"Hi Honey" sings Alessia making you spin around after you put your arms around her neck.

You laugh softly while letting her do it. You have only one centimeter of difference and it amuses you both to carry the other in this way every now and then. Head in the hollow of her neck, you lay some kisses and breath her before she releases you.

"Hi Princess" you answer back, gently taking her face in your hands so you can look at her.

Private but not secret, your relationship was never revealed. Well, there are very truthful speculations circulating on social networks, but you have never taken the time to deny or confirm all this. What happens between you two is up to you, it doesn’t deprive you of posting some stories or photos together.

However, between that and your in-laws watching you, you refrain from kissing her but not to kiss her cheek, before going to greet her parents. You all agreed that you will drop them off at their hotel and meet again tomorrow at noon for lunch, since the evening is already well advanced. With the jet lag, they will probably have some sleep to catch up.

Giorgio’s world tour is the main topic of conversation during the trip to the hôtel, with New York roads being particularly clogged at this time of evening. You look with amusement at Alessia dozing against the window, while listening to what your in-laws tell you. It doesn’t surprise you from the blonde, she has always been unable to sleep during a plane ride. You still remember Ella teasing her about it, Alessia not having closed her eyes for a minute on the way to Australia for the World Cup.

Alessia wakes up to help you get her parents' suitcases out of the trunk and accompany them to the hotel reception, wishing to make sure everything is in order. After a last reminder of the place and time of appointment for tomorrow, you leave and find your car back.

"Ready?" you ask Alessia after finding your place behind the wheel.

"Mmh almost."

The answer makes you bow an eyebrow, but when the blonde leans in your direction, you quickly understand what’s behind her head. You smile against her lips when she kisses you, grabbing her chin to prolong the kiss for a few seconds.

"Now I’m ready."

A smile still stuck to your lips, you take the road to find your apartment. Located in the center of New York. It’s not very big, but since you almost never live there, it’s more than enough.

"Welcome home" you smile as you close the door to your apartment behind you.

Alessia’s luggage is dropped off near the entrance, letting her soak up the place for now. You take on you not to follow her everywhere, almost desperate at the idea of catching up with all the hugs and kisses you are late.

"It’s pretty" smiled Alessia gently, looking around her.

"It’s an original way of saying it’s terribly lacking in personality" you laugh as you approach her, laying a kiss on her cheek from behind, passing your arms around her waist.

You laugh again, feeling her blush, mumbling that it wasn’t what she meant. You know that this is not a very personalized apartment, again you don’t live here daily. Your souvenirs and photos are in your London apartment.

"Are you hungry?" you ask to change the subject and stop teasing her. You put kisses along her jaw instead.

"A little yes" confesses the blonde while putting her hands on your arms.

"I’ll take care of it. You want to take a shower in the meantime?"

"With pleasure"

Grabbing her hand, you drag her into the bathroom, taking the opportunity to show her your place. It’s quickly done since the ground floor contains the living room, kitchen and dining area and the bedroom is on the mezzanine. The bathroom is also on the ground floor.

After helping Alessia unpack her suitcase and taking out her shower kit, you grab your phone to order in the sushi restaurant located two blocks from your home. You know Alessia’s passion for this and you know they are excellent. You also take the opportunity to change into something more pleasant, leaving your jeans to put on a jogging.

A good half hour later, Alessia finally comes out of the bathroom and you smile at her, amused.

"I thought you drowned."

You laugh when you see her rolling her eyes, but you invite her to join you on the couch on which you are. To pass the time, you turned on the TV and some variety show went on. But the pretty blonde doesn’t pay any attention, choosing to come and sit on your lap. Sliding your hands behind her back, you smile tenderly.

"I missed you" she whispers softly.

"I missed you too. I’m so glad you’re here" you add, smiling, putting a lock of her wet hair back in place.

She smiles at you again and you take advantage of your proximity to put a new kiss on her lips. Both cut off from the world, you get lost in your exchange, finally enjoying your reunion together. More kisses are exchanged and somehow your hands find their way under her shirt, eager for the feeling of her skin. At least, until the doorbell of your apartment rang, startling you both.

"It looks like sushi has arrived" you sigh against her lips, disappointed to have to interrupt your moment.

"Sushi?"

You laugh when you see Alessia’s face light up, almost watching her run to answer the door. Having taken care of paying for the order online, you let her receive your meal and you are content to go get plates to arrange the food.

"Oh god I love you" Alessia mumble, opening the different boxes

"You only say that because I know your favorite command by heart" you say, pulling your tongue and turning back.

You didn’t expect Alessia to jump on you abruptly, making you both fall on the couch that slides a few inches on the floor.

"Lessi" you laugh, trying to get rid of her embrace.

"I forbid you to doubt my feelings like that!"

Her harsh fake air makes you laugh but you raise both hands as a sign of remission.

"Sorry Lessibaby, I won’t do it again"

"You better"

[gennyanydots]

Really? Now?

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x f!reader

Part of the “Spitfire” Universe but can be read alone.

At this point in your life you barely remember what life without Jake was like, not that you ever wanted to remember a time without him. You knew in your heart that Jake was your person- the one you were to spend the rest of your life with.

Being with Jake has always been a little challenging. Not because of him, of course, he was the most perfect boyfriend you’ve ever had but because you swore the Navy loved to keep the two of you apart. Some days when you were feeling particularly down you swear the Navy must be plotting against your love. You always picture a whole room of Navy admirals sitting around a table, with a map laid out in front of them, deciding where the least convenient place was to send Jake, a bulletin board on the wall has a calendar with all the important dates for the two of you circled in red so the admirals knew exactly when to send Jake off somewhere or when to deny him leave.

But for once you’ve thwarted their attempts to keep the two of you apart! You were spending your first Thanksgiving together at Jake’s family farm, despite being together for five years. His parents always invite you despite Jake not being able to attend but you have always politely turned the offer down. You love his parents but being there without Jake would feel weird to you and you’d miss Jake extra, so you’ve never gone. Until now.

Jake was able to get the whole week off so he made it to the farm a couple days before you were able to fly out which you were glad about. You didn’t want to monopolize Jake’s time at home even though you know his family would understand. Jake needed time with his family without you. Didn’t need his girlfriend following after him like a little lost duck his whole leave despite his very vocal protests.

“Darlin, I want nothing more than for you to follow me around all day every day for the rest of my life.”

“How am I sposed to show you off to my whole hometown if you’re only there for a couple a days?”

“Mama’s gonna think you don’t love her as much if you don’t spend the whole week with me. You gonna break my mama’s heart, darlin?”

That last one almost got you to cave but you stuck to your guns and decided that flying in to Texas on Tuesday night would be the plan. Jake had the whole week at home so he got there Saturday night and was leaving the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Three ish days seemed like a good amount of time for Jake to be home alone with his family.

Those three days have seemed to be torture for Jake if the text messages he’s sent you are anything to go off of.

“I miss you.”

“I’m bored here without you.”

“Can’t we just change your plane ticket? I’ll pay for it.”

“I’m about ready to just hop in the truck and drive to your apartment and pick you up.”

It would take him longer to come get you than it would to just wait until you flew in but there’s really no reasoning with a pouty Jake. You had to text his mom just to make sure he didn’t go through with his ridiculous idea. She hid his keys from him. He pouted more.

Finally, after three long days and an over three hour flight you were finally stepping off the plane to see your favorite pouty man child.

It takes you about a half an hour to figure out where to go to find Jake, airports are never simple to navigate. You see him before he sees you which meant you got to watch his face the second his eyes fell upon you. The biggest smile you had ever seen passed over his face as he broke out into a jog to get to you as fast as he could without running into others. You giggle as you rush towards him. As soon as you are within arms reach, Jake lifts you up into his arms, holding you as tight as he could against himself as he buries his face in your neck. You drop your bag and wrap yourself around him and take a moment to soak up the feeling of being surrounded by Jake, the feeling of being home.

“I missed you so much,” you almost miss his words as they’re mumbled into your neck.

“We saw each other last month!” You say with a laugh.

Jake shakes his head the best he can while his face is still pressed against your neck, “It felt like an eternity since you’ve been in my arms.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

Jake chuckles and finally pulls his face out of its hiding spot to gaze into your eyes, “Only about you, darlin.”

“Hi,” you whisper to him, his face only a breath away from yours.

“Hi,” he whispers back, a genuine smile plastered on his face. You scrunch your nose as he places a soft kiss on the tip of it, making you giggle. “Are you ready to get out of here? We got a whole herd of people waitin’ to meet you at the house.”

You scrunch your eyebrows in question, “But like how many people? You didn’t say anything about meeting lots of people today.”

Jake shrugs, “My family is all excited for Thanksgiving so they wanted to come and visit with everyone from out of town at the ranch before the prep work tomorrow for Thanksgiving. Nana’s even back at the house.”

“Nana? I thought she never leaves the nursing home anymore.”

“Pops thought he’d spring her from the joint for a few days. She’s goin back Thursday after dinner,” Jake explains.

“Oh okay,” you say worrying your lip. You hadn’t expected to meet everyone today. You thought you would at least have the day to yourselves, but this is Jake’s leave and you weren’t about to dictate what happens during it. There would be plenty of time together after everyone goes home.

Jake kisses you quickly before setting you back on the ground and taking your hand to lead you out to his truck. The next half hour is spent soaking up your alone time with Jake in the truck, catching up on the little things that rarely get talked about over the phone.

As the truck pulled up to the Seresin farm house you were feeling a bit anxious. You knew Jake’s family were all nice, you’ve met his parents many times so everyone else has to be friendly at least, but large groups of new people makes anyone a little uneasy. You knew you were never going to remember anyone’s name. Despite Jake being an only child, his extended family was huge.

You fiddle with your finger nails while Jake parks the truck.

He looks over at you with a smile and a pat on your thigh, “Ready?”

You nod and he tells you to stay put.

Jake got out of the truck on his side and jogged around to your side to open the door for you.

You smile as you hop out then reach up to kiss his cheek.

Jake flashes you a grin as he reaches into the truck to grab your bags. He lifts them easily, shuts the door, then grabs your hand to pull you towards the front door.

The two of you are almost at the door when it swings open to reveal Jake’s mom rushing towards you with her arms out stretched.

“My baby girl is back home!” She says as she pulls you into an enthusiastic hug.

You hug her back and then get passed off to Jake’s dad who hugs you as well while welcoming you into the house where you’re met with about 30 people all standing up to greet you.

The next half hour is a blur of handshakes, hugs, and introductions. You’re pretty sure you’ve already forgotten everyone’s name except Jake’s grandmother and that’s only because she’s just Nana. Kinda hard to forget.

Eventually the commotion dies down and Jake’s mom announces it’s time for dinner. Since she has to cook for the next two days she had ordered enough pizza for everyone. It turns into a frenzy of everyone trying to get pizza all at the same time. You quietly sit down next to Nana who seems to be the only other person not trying to fight their way to the pizza boxes.

“You’d swear that everyone hasn’t eaten in days with how this family acts around food. God knows they all take after my husband. I tried to teach them all manners but clearly they didn’t stick,” Nana explains, gesturing to the mob of people.

You snicker and she shoots you a wink.

Jake walks over with a plate in each hand. He leans down to kiss his nana on the cheek then leans down to do the same to you before he hands you both a plate of pizza each before heading back.

Nana nudges you softly, “Maybe I spoke too soon.”

You and nana happily eat your pizza chit chatting together. You learn that Ethel at the home has been cheating at poker and nana is sure that the plan she’s concocted will catch her in the act. You also learn that Fred has been flirting with one of the new nurses and nana thinks he is laying it on a little too thick to be appropriate.

Someone announces that they have the fire going in the backyard and nana decides that the two of you must go out enjoy the night together, but first she makes you promise not to say anything about Fred or her plan to catch Ethel. You told her you swear on your life not to tell a soul before you help her outside to an empty lawn chair. Everyone seems to have made their way outside by the time you make it out with Nana.

Jake walks up behind you once you get nana settled and grabs your hand, pulling you away from everyone else.

You glance behind yourself to wave bye to nana and notice most everyone has their eyes glued to you. Weird. You’re not too sure you like that but you turn back to look where you’re going and try and ignore the eyes you feel are staring at the back of your head.

You notice Jake check his pocket and while you’re not too sure how you know you just know that Jake is about to propose. This is it. Has to be it.

“Really? Now?” You whine at him and drag your feet a little.

“What?” He asks as he stops walking. The two of you are still within earshot of everyone.

You put your hands on your hips, “You’re really doing this right now? Really?”

Jake looks at you exasperatedly, “Yes, right now. Do you know how long I’ve had this thing?”

You shrug, “Since I sent you the link of the ring I wanted?”

Jake sighs, “Yes, since you sent me the link. It’s not my fault. You’re the one who wanted a simulated diamond ring. I didn’t have to save as much money for it than I expected.”

“The amount of times I walk away from things is too many for you to buy me an expensive ring. Or what if I lose it? No. You’re not spending some stupid amount of money on a ring. It’s just flat out dumb. You’re also not giving me a ring with sentimental value. I’ll feel like an asshole when I lose it,” you explain.

“I know, darlin, I know. You’ve told me all of this. Can I get down on one knee now?” He asks.

You shrug, “I guess I can’t stop you.”

Jake rolls his eyes as he gets down on one knee and takes both of your hands, “Darlin, I’m not quite sure what to do with you, never have been, but I want to spend the rest of my life trying to figure that out. I want to save you from getting your ass beat by men a foot taller than you every day for the rest of our lives. Maybe not every day. Maybe like once a month. It doesn’t matter. Anyways, you are my greatest joy. The best part of my day, every single day. I am sick to death of the Navy keeping us apart and this is the best way to make sure I get to keep you with me. Where you should be. With the nature of my job we’ll still get separated at times but knowing that no matter what you’ll be taken care of will make it so much easier on my heart when I’m away. I want to be able to wake up next to you every chance I get until the day I die. I want to have cute little smartass babies with you that will get me into as much trouble as their mama. I want everything with you, anything with you, because you are all I need in this world to keep me happy. Will you make me the happiest man in the world and be my wife?”

“Did you ask my sister?”

Jake furrows his brows, “Did I do what now?”

You let out a huff, “Did you or did you not ask my sister?”

“What? Yeah, I asked your sister. You told me I had to. You think I got a ring and planned a whole proposal out without asking your sister?”

You shrug, “I wouldn’t be surprised. Sometimes you don’t listen.”

Jake stares at you, “Is this really happening right now?”

“Did you expect anything less from me?”

“Maybe some tears.”

“Have you met me?” You ask raising an eyebrow.

Jake shrugs, “Clearly I wasn’t thinking straight. Could you maybe give me an answer please? Everyone is staring at us and it’s starting to wear on me.”

You laugh, “Of course I’ll marry you, idiot. You’re the love of my life.”

Jake grins and stands up, wrapping his arms around you to lift you up then yells, “She said yes!”

Jake’s family cheers from their seats. You look over and see Jake’s mom clutching his dad’s arm tightly with tears streaming down her face.

“Your mom is crying so at least you made someone cry,” you say to Jake while laughing.

Jake slides you back to the ground, “She’s crying because she finally gets to say your her daughter. I’m pretty sure she loves you more than she loves me.”

“I KNOW she loves me more than you. Your dad too. How does it feel to be second best?” You ask playfully.

Jake laughs, “With you in first place I’m surprised I even made second place.”

You lean up to kiss him but stop just in front of his lips, “At least you’re first place in my heart every time.”

He pumps a fist, “Yes!”

You laugh as you close the distance between his lips and yours as a thought comes over you, you have a LOT of names to learn.

[sliebman10]

Travel AU

A seat upgrade was literally the least they could do after canceling his flight and bumping him to the following afternoon, Remus thought huffily as he guided his rolling suitcase through the narrow aisle of the airplane. 

He looked at his newly printed ticket, and realized he’d passed his row because he was so used to flying Economy or Coach or whatever they were calling it these days. Lifting his suitcase up, he stashed it in the overhead compartment and sat down in his seat. It was much wider than he ad used to and there was more room for his long legs. 

There was already someone sitting in the window seat, fiddling with his phone. Remus sat down and took out his book and headphones before stashing his messenger bag under the seat in front of him. 

He buckled his seatbelt, accidentally jostling the armrest and the man next to him turned toward him with a raised eyebrow,

“I’m…” Remus started but stopped short when he saw a pair of silver eyes staring at him. “Sorry,” he finished rather lamely.

The man shrugged. “It’s alright,” he said, his voice rich and posh sounding. “Are you flying alone?” he asked, taking in Remus’s restlessness as they both waited for the plane to finished boarding. 

“Yes, I am…I was supposed to go yesterday but…yea. Anyway. You?” Remus said, cutting off his rambling the best he could under the penetrating gaze of this other man. 

“I am…I’m on my way home from a business trip. Horribly boring,” he said, with a small smile. 

“I was visiting my parents…also not a barrel of laughs,” Remus said. 

“I’m Sirius,” he said, offering his hand.

“Remus,” Remus said, taking it. 

It was like a dam broke. They spent the first hour of the flight talking about anything and everything. Remus could never clearly remember that conversation afterward, but it connected them as they flew across the country. 

He also could never remember who made the first move, if it had been him or Sirius but soon after snacks and drinks were passed around, Sirius offered Remus half of his blanket and they curled up together to watch one of the movies. But soon enough, they were kissing like teenagers instead. 

When they landed, they were reluctant to leave each other but life and responsibilities beckoned. “Can I have your number?” Sirius asked and Remus obliged. He didn’t think he’d ever hear from him again. 

But then, the next day his phone rang. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” Sirius admitted. “Want to get drinks after work?”

Word Count: 431

@wolfstarmicrofic

[alex-blanc141]

Bruce and Oliver

Bruce and Oliver are brothers.

I think Bruce and Oliver are brothers and nothing can stop me from thinking it.

So here is my headcanon/how they became brothers.

Oliver and Bruce met as kids. Bruce was about five and Oliver was 8. (In my little world in my head Oliver is 3 years older than Bruce, I don't know if thats true or not but I like it.)

Bruce and Oliver grew up together and when Bruce's parents were murdered when he was 9, Oliver and his parents stayed with Bruce for about 5 months until Oliver's parents said they needed to get back to Star city. Oliver visited whenever he could.

When Oliver's parents died, when Oliver was 13, on their safari tour, Bruce had him stay at the manor. While Oliver was getting used to things at the manor and his parents being gone, Bruce asked Alferd if they could have Oliver stay and if they could legally add him to the Wayne family.

After 5 or 6 months Bruce decided to ask Oliver what he thought of joining the Wayne family. It had been the first time they cried in a while when he said yes. The officially became Oliver Jonas Wayne Queen and Bruce Thomas Queen Wayne. Oliver kept his mansion in Star and him and Bruce stayed there every summer but they stayed in Gotham for the most part and they went to school together.

When Oliver graduated from Gotham Academy at the age of 18, he decided to go to college at one of the top colleges in all of Star city. Bruce graduated a year early at 16 and went to medical school until all of a sudden he disappeared, Oliver was devastated and he hired the best detectives in the world to find his little brother. When the detectives and police said that they couldn't find him and that he will be presumed dead until they find any signs of him. Oliver cried for weeks.

After a year or 2 Oliver decided to look himself on the sea he was shipwrecked on a island that was run by The League of Assassins. Right when Oliver was shipwrecked Bruce was back in Gotham and he was feeling the same devastation as his brother when he left. He looked and couldn't find him anywhere.

3 or 4 months after Bruce came back he became Batman. He fought all criminals he could find and he became the urban legend of Gotham. Bruce would also look for any information he could get his hands on to see if there was anything on Oliver. At the same time Oliver was fighting and training to get off the island and away from The League.

After 3 years Oliver finally escaped and marines found him on a raft. He was immediately brought to a hospital. Bruce flew on a plane as soon as he heard. Oliver was shocked when he saw Bruce, they hugged and cried for what felt like eternity to them. Bruce left the room and grabbed Dick and introduced him to Oliver. Oliver was shocked for a bit wondering how long he had been gone if his little brother had a son that looked to be 6.

Later Bruce explained what happened with Dick and his parents. Oliver found himself with a nephew that he was going to protect and spoiled rotten. Oliver discovered about the Batman from newspaper articles he read online and Oliver decided he was going to meet this man if it was last thing he do and make sure he doesn't hurt his family.

When Oliver finally left the hospital he went to live in Star city to officially start running Queen inc. as he had left in the hands of his father's right hand. Oliver became Green Arrow and fought crime hoping to get the Batmans attention to tell to stay away from his brother and nephew.(Robin showed up 3 years later)

5 years later, Bruce and Dick visited Oliver in Star City. The three spent the whole day together and the uncle and nephew got to spend quality time together, Oliver remembers when he hung out with Dick the first time just the two of them and he felt like was about to start sobbing when Dick called him uncle Ollie the first time. Later that night when Oliver was tieing up some goons Batman and Robin appeared. Oliver told them to stay away from him and Bruce and Dick telling them that his family was everything to him and no one can change that.

In the morning Bruce grabbed Oliver and sat him down. Oliver was shocked to learn that his little brother was Batman and that Dick was Robin. They started laughing when they all realized that they were all vigilantes and wanted to save people.

I don't have a idea about what will happen later yet but I love this AU. What should I call it?

[tatsumessy]

The Plane Crash - {Rin Itoshi}

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You shouted walking behind your husband of two years who was ignoring any sort of confrontation with you right now. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, he said tossing his duffel bag by the foot of the bed and unzipping his jacket. “What? Saving our marriage? You can’t talk about saving a marriage we both wanted! Stop making it seem like I’m forcing you to do your fucking part when all I ask is that you love me.”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” He screamed grabbing his head in frustration, “I can’t be everything and perfect at the same time. I have a life beside being Y/n L/n’s husband.” You scoffed and slowly wiped away the tears that were falling from your eyes. With Rin being a pro football player you knew all you had to do was support him, he’s everything and more for you and you know that. But you never knew he’d use being your husband as a form of feeling trapped.

Maybe that’s why he’s been spending more time on the field rather than coming home in time for the two of you to eat dinner together. When did the two of you stop feeling like a couple? When was the last time you went to sleep without crying?

“I’m sorry that I had to try for you but it was so hard and impossible for you to do the same for me.” You said walking over to the closet and grabbing your big travel luggage, opening it you started grabbing a bunch of clothes from the hangers and from the dresser. “What are you doing?” He asked looking up at you, fear struck his eyes slightly seeing you move as quick as you did. “I’m going to stay with my parents for a while, it looks like we both need space from each other. I’ll come back for the playoff game.” Rin stayed silent and chose to listen.

“I’ll send you my plane information and when I make it there safely but I really just think we need to spend some time apart from each other.”

~

“Yes mom, I’ll be fine I promise. He knows I’ll be late to the game. He just wants me there no matter what time I show up.” You say trying to reassure your mother who was worried about literally anything. She pulls you in for a hug and then kisses your cheeks watching as you disappeared into the gate. Your flight had already been delayed three times and at this rate you were going to miss your husband’s first play off game which you promised you’d be there for him.

It was a five hour flight and you were more nervous to see Rin. Since the fight you two had only talked twice in the time span of three months. The two of you agreed that it was better if you talked in person rather than over the phone. “Excuse me passangers, this is your flight attendant. We will be landing shortly, please fasten your seatbelts and stow away all trays. I’ll be coming around shortly to collect trash. Thank you.” She put the phone down and started walking down the aisle, once getting to you she paused.

“You look familiar.” She said taking the empty water bottle from you, “were you on the blue lock award ceremony or something?” “With my husband yes.” “You’re Itoshi Rin’s wife!” You nodded nervously while blushing slightly, this is the first time you’ve actually been noticed. “I’m sorry you aren’t able to make-” she was interrupted by the plane shaking aggressively, the plane then again started shaking but this time more rougher. The flight attendant’s body flew up hitting the top of the roof then landing back on the floor. Everything was happening so fast the next thing you knew was the oxygen mask were coming down.

~

Rin had just finished scoring the winning goal and instead of hearing the normal loud cheering all he hear was chaos. The people in the crowd were either trying to leave or were freaking out about the game. Rin walked over to his coach with his fully decorated water bottle thanks to you. “What’s going on?” He asked and the coach was in his own world on the phone with someone while anxiously trying to get his shit together.

“One of the planes crashed into xxx pier”. Rin felt his heart t drop to his stomach, “do you know the flight number?” Rin asked, before the game he had briefly glanced at your flight plans but he couldn’t remember exactly what flight number you were on. “Flight 717, sorry good game today guys but I gotta go. My kids are on that flight.” Rin felt his stomach tightening, for some odd reason that number just didn’t sit right with him.

The moment he entered the locker room he pulled out his phone and went straight to his messages.

Wife 💚: hey my flight was delayed once again, so I won’t be able to make it. Good luck you know you’re the best. Oh and my flight number is 717.

He immediately grabbed all of his stuff and started heading towards- he didn’t even know. He just knew he needed to get to you.

Opening your eyes you looked around seeing most of the passengers either dismembered, trying to get out, or just dead. Slowly turning you undid the seatbelt and started to panic even more seeing the water fill up the plane. Using the armrest you tried to get out of your seat but your legs were lodged under something. “Help!” You shouted crying a bit as the water was quickly rising up your legs.

The fireman walked slowly up to you and started to check for further injuries. You didn’t even notice the large gash on your forehead, “alright, are you okay ma’am?” You nodded your head yes not being able to speak out of pure shock. The fireman tried to push against the metal pole stuck on top of your legs but it wasn’t budging. The water pressure was pushing against it too hard.

“AHH!!” You screamed out feeling the pole dig further into your legs. Biting your bottom lip a crippling crying erupted from your mouth. “C-Can you do me a favor?” You asked feeling the water reach up to your chest. “Can you give a message to my husband, Itoshi Rin.” The fireman shook his head no and kept trying to pull the pole up, “look, we both know this plane is about to go down and it’d be more beneficial if you lived rather than me.” You said taking slow deep breaths.

You were the only one left on the plane, besides dead bodies, everyone else was saved. “I’m saving the both of us, if you go down, I go down. Simple.” He said and tears started to form once again. Reaching over you grabbed his walkie and held it up to your mouth. “Whoever is hearing this people get this message out to my husband. My name is Itoshi Y/n. Baby, I’m sorry for our fight. I never meant to make you feel like you were trapped. I love you and I’m sorry if I ever failed you as a wife and as your best friend.” Letting go of the walkie the water was reaching up to your neck and it was really getting hard for you to talk let alone breathe.

“Okay this is what we’re going to do, I’m going to tie this rope around it and the speedboat is going to pull it off of you long enough for you to swim out.” He said and you nodded slowly not fully believing that this plan would actually work. The water was rising even higher and he was still tying the rope off. Once he finally got it he swam out the way a bit and signaled the man to go, it was suffering a bit but the pole lifted slightly giving you enough room to wiggle out of your seat. The problem was you couldn’t swim, your legs were most likely fractured.

~

Rin arrived at the crash sight and was led towards a big area that held two different sections. The survivors and the deceased. After searching all throughout the survivors section for you he hesitantly walked towards the deceased section to make his worst nightmare possibly come true. He stood there staring at all the covered up bodies in shock. He flinched feeling a small dainty hand tap him in his shoulder, “excuse me. Are you looking for a specific someone?” The responder asked holding up her clipboard filled with names.

“Um-y-yes my wife. Itoshi Y/n.” It was silent for a moment as she looked over the list, she clicked her tongue before bringing the clipboard down and giving Rin a sympathetic smile. “She isn’t on the list, this may be a good thing…or her body hasn’t been discovered yet. I’m sorry.” She said and walked away leaving Rin lost and confused. “WE HAVE ANOTHER ONE!” A group shouted from the water, one of the fireman was holding an unconscious heavily injured body.

The one thing that caught Rin’s attention was the 13 charmed bracelet, that was hanging from the wrist of the woman. It was you, he started running over towards the stretcher heart racing with each step he took. Your legs were bruised and bloodied and the gash on your forehead was alarming for many reasons but the main one was the amount of complaining he was going to hear when you wake up. He gently caressed the top of your head noticing you stirring around, your eyes opened slowly and the moment you saw Rin you almost fell off the stretcher trying to hug him.

He kissed the crook of your neck and cheek while whispering small praises for you being so strong. “I was so scared…I-I-I thought I was going to die!” you whispered and whined while clutching tightly onto his shoulders. “You’re okay baby. You’re okay now.” He rubbed the back of your head then let go of you briefly so that the both of you could ride in the ambulance together.

“Be honest with me. How bad is it? I could practically feel the blood running down my face.” You laughed awkwardly while rubbing something out of your eye, “you’re beautiful y/n.” He said leaning down and kissing your forehead then giving you a fake smile that you were all too familiar with but the two of you just laughed then sat in silence. “Rin, I’m sorry, I never meant to make you feel stuck.” “I’m not stuck. I never felt stuck. I just didn’t want to disappoint you and with the playoffs happening I was just stressed and took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

You sat there in shock at his statement. “Rin. You are a freaking all star. No matter what happens I’ll always be proud of you. I’m your wife, I support you in everything you do. I love you.” He leaned down and pressed a debtor kiss on your lips then one on your forehead. He whispered an I love you back then kissed you again.

[mercurygray]

Hey Merc! I’d love to read about some girl bonding time for your MoTA OCs - how do they spend their down time? Have any of them bonded over other interests besides aviation/their occupations? - @softspeirs

Katie, I'm ashamed to say you gave me this prompt in April and I'm just now getting around to filling it. I'm also combing it with a prompt from @shoshiwrites for 'sunbathing' - they seemed like a natural fit together.

--

If you closed your eyes, it was almost like the beach.

It wasn't really anything like the beach, not really - just a freshly mown infield and a sunny day. But if you changed into a swimsuit, and laid down on a blanket, and closed your eyes, and no planes flew overhead, it was possible - just possible - to believe you were somewhere nice and swanky like Havana, or the south of France, lying on white sand with nothing but warm blue water in front of you.

"I'd kill for a cocktail right now," Tatty said, from underneath her sunglasses. "A daiquiri, with fresh lime juice and a chilled glass."

"And a nice boy to pick up the tab afterwards?" Mary asked, obviously fishing. They were all due leave, in various amounts, but since travel passes seemed to be hard to come by and one never seemed to know what would be waiting at the end of the line once you got there, sunbathing in the middle of an airfield in Norfolk seemed like a more reliable option. So that's what they were doing with their afternoon off - imagining better vacations in more exotic locales.

"It wouldn't hurt," Tatty replied, the shrug implicit in her voice. "We'd better be somewhere with a dance floor, too." She thought about this for a moment. "The Army and Navy Club has good daiquiris. And plenty of nice boys, too."

"I don't think they'd let us into the Army and Navy Club, Tatty." Helen was being more practical about the whole thing. It was one thing to be Katherine Spaatz and quite another to be Helen Owens, whose parents weren't anything special and whose going-out dress, by her own admission, left something to be desired.

"Of course they would."

"Not a lot of beaches in DC, though," Mary pointed out.

"Fair enough. But plenty of boys. And plenty of dancing."

"How about you, Fred?" Mary asked, changing the subject. "Any beach you'd like to be on right now?"

"Not a lot of beaches in Madison," Fred replied, eyes still closed, enjoying the sunshine. She was borrowing one of Mary's summer tops for the day, a halter in a red and yellow print, and trying to make the most of a few hours "I think I'd like to be right where I am. Field of flowers with a lot of sunshine and a book and no one to bother me. No students, no parents, no club room - just me."

Mary looked back towards base and sighed. "Don't hold your breath on not being bothered, Fred. I think we've been spotted."

A male voice came booming across the airfield. "Mary Boyle, are you having a party without us?"

"And what if we are, Everett Blakely? It's gotten to where a girl can't hear herself think if she doesn't go off into a field for a few hours."

"We thought about putting out a sign on the club that said No Boys Allowed," Tatty added, with a catty grin, sitting up and taking off her glasses so she could see just what they were up against. "But we didn't think any of you hooligans could read."

"Now, that's just mean, Miss Spaatz," Blakely replied, sitting down on the blanket with a semi-dramatic huff. Work must have been done for the day - the crowd with him was Douglass, and Hambone Hamilton, John Hoerr, who was carrying a large packing crate, and John Brady, all of them cool and loose in sunglasses and shirtsleeves, soaking up the sunshine.

"We're not going to let you stay unless you brought something to share," Tatty said archly, neither confirming or denying that she was mean, watching as the rest of the group made themselves comfortable on the picnic blankets.

"Does a case of cokes and a pack of cards count?" Blakely asked, pointing to Hoerr's box like he thought it would win him favors. "Jim thought we could play Crazy Eights."

"My ma also sent a box of cookies," Douglass added, looking hopefully in Mary's direction, his hand tight around the tin. "Shortbread - like my grandma used to make."

"Did you all lose Major Chatterbox on your way over?" Tatty asked, reaching straight past for the tin of cookies and helping herself to a piece without being asked twice. "Bucky Egan isn't one to miss a party."

"He said he had some business at the Control Tower," Hoerr reported, setting down the box and passing around the bottles, and an opener on a ratty piece of ribbon.

"Is that what they're calling that now?" Douglass asked with a grin.

"Hush, you," Mary chided companionably, taking the tin and her own piece of shortbread. (Douglass, for his part, looked happy to be so ordered, and did as he was told.) "I think it's sweet. She's good for him. Brady? Fred? Who's in for Crazy Eights? "

"I'll pass," Fred said, closing her eyes again and tucking her hands behind her head.

"I'm good watching," Brady added. His hand was close to her elbow, and after a few minutes, she could just feel his thumb caressing her skin, the tiniest gesture with the biggest meaning. Eyes still closed, her smile grew wider, and she went right on enjoying the sunshine, perfectly content. After all - who needs a beach?

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - sexual refrences, drug usage

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 9

Matt sent two first-class plane tickets. My father took a leave of absence from his duties in Germany, and we flew off to Los Angeles, where Matt was filming Fun in Acapulco.

We stayed at the Bel Air Sands Hotel, and Matt was the perfect host. He’d pick us up in either a white Rolls-Royce or his famous gold Cadillac and take us on a sightseeing tour along the ocean to Malibu or into Hollywood.

My father was impressed with Matt’s hospitality, but not enough to forget why he was there—to talk about my education and my future at Graceland. Matt didn’t want to jeopardize the deal they had already made, and every time my father brought up my schooling, Matt would find a Hollywood landmark to point out.

“And over there, Captain,” he said, changing the subject as we cruised down Hollywood Boulevard, “is Grauman’s Chinese Theater. I’m sure you’ve heard of that. If you get out here, you can see all the stars of your era, their handprints and footprints. There’s Betty Grable, you remember her, don’t you? Marilyn Monroe, Kennedy’s friend, and if you look hard enough, you might spot Trigger’s hoofprint.” As my father stepped out of the car, Matt added, “I don’t think MacArthur’s are there yet, but I’m working on it.” We all laughed at the incongruity of General MacArthur bending over the wet concrete next to Jane Russell.

After a few days, my father and I flew to Boston and he and James enrolled me in the school Matt had chosen, Immaculate Conception, an all-girls high school, while Matt himself remained in L.A. to finish the film.

Before I left, he assured me that he’d be home soon and that he’d see me in a few weeks.

Matt and I planned to live together at Graceland eventually, but we’d told my parents that I would be staying with James and Angela, so when I arrived in Boston, I moved into their home. James assured my father that I’d be in good hands and not to worry.

The concerned look on my father’s face moved me. It was such a helpless look filled with doubts and fears about whether he was making the right decision. Only time would tell. He returned to Germany and I settled into my new routine.

In the beginning James drove me to and from school, where word of my identity soon leaked out. As I walked down the hallway, heads would turn and whispers would start. Once, a note that was being passed in study hall ended up on the floor. I saw my name on it and picked it up.

“Her name’s y/n,” I read. “She’s supposed to be Matt Sturniolo’s new girlfriend. If we make friends with her, maybe she’ll introduce us to him. Oh, God, wouldn’t that be neat!”

I didn’t know who the writer was, but I couldn’t mistake the meaning. The friendly smiles concealed intentions to get to Matt through me. Consequently, I was afraid to get close to anyone at school, and began to feel lonely and unhappy.

Living with James and Angela was also difficult. I felt out of place in their home, and did not want to be an intrusion in their personal life. I began spending more time with Grandma at Graceland, often staying all night, and gradually, almost unnoticed, I began to move in my things. By the time Matt suggested that I move into Graceland, I already had.

But living on “the hill,” as we called it, was isolated. The only people there were Grandma and the maids, and during the day, the secretaries, Becky Yancy and Patsy Sturniolo. Patsy was Matt’s double first cousin (her mother was Mary Lou’s sister and her father was James’s brother) and also served as James’s confidante. We were close, and after school I would go into the office to talk with her and Becky. But James felt my visits kept the girls from working and finally he put a sign on the door specifying: no one belongs in the office unless they work there, or have an appointment. I knew that meant me too, so I curtailed my visits.

There were other restrictions. I was told that I couldn’t have girlfriends over because strangers weren’t allowed in the house. One day, I was severely criticized for sitting under the trees on the front lawn. I was playing with Honey, the poodle Matt had given me for Christmas, when a friend of Angela’s drove up and told me that I was making a public display of myself.

Even at school, I felt restricted because James was still chauffeuring me there and back. Without my own car, I couldn’t leave the school grounds to take a drive at lunch or when my classes were cut short. At last I asked James if I could use Matt’s Lincoln Mark V and reluctantly, he agreed.

That evening I went for a drive. With the radio blaring and the windows wide open I sped down Highway 51 South, enjoying my newfound independence. I pulled up in front of Patsy Sturniolo’s house and said, “Hop in. Let’s go for a drive.”

Patsy introduced me to Leonard’s Drive-In, where we would spend at least one night a week when we didn’t go bowling or to a movie. But I went out less frequently when the two hundred dollars that my father had given me rapidly began slipping through my fingers. Matt had assured my father not to worry about money, that if I needed any, his father would give it to me. So, with gas added to my expenses, I had no choice but to approach James, as Matt had instructed me.

Hesitantly I walked into his office. I was nervous about talking to James, who had a sharp tongue and said exactly what he thought. Finally I said, “Mr. Sturniolo, I was wondering if I could have some money. I’m spending a lot on gas, which doesn’t leave much for anything else.”

“How much do you think you need?” he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“I  . . . I don’t know,” I stammered.

He thought for a moment, then said, “Okay, I’ll give you thirty-five dollars. How does that sound?”

Thirty-five dollars sounded fine at the moment, but it didn’t go very far, not with movie tickets, gas, and clothes to buy. Two weeks later I asked him for money to go out with Patsy.

“Hot damn,” he snapped. “Didn’t I just give you thirty-five dollars?”

“That was two weeks ago, Mr. Sturniolo. I can’t stretch it any further than that.”

He stared angrily at me and then his face softened.

“Well, I guess things can get pretty expensive,” he said, counting out another thirty-five dollars. “Now you and Patsy be careful driving out there. You know there’s a lot of accidents on that highway. Why don’t you call me when you get to the theater?”

At the time his caution surprised me, but remembering what Matt had said about Mary Lou, I knew that this was also typical of the rest of the Sturniolos. They always felt better if you called when you arrived at your destination and again before you left for home.

Matt phoned later that evening. In the course of the conversation he asked, “How are you doing on cash, Baby?”

“Funny you should ask that,” I said, mentioning his father’s reaction when I asked for money.

Matt started laughing. “That’s my dad. He’s always been tight. Getting money from him is worse than going to the local bank, even if you’ve got good credit. That’s why I have him taking care of my bills. Every penny’s accounted for. I wouldn’t trust anybody else. Too many thieves. Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to him.”

I ended up laughing too. Matt’s sense of humor was contagious. He laughed about things that often wouldn’t make sense to anyone else, yet anyone around him would usually end up laughing too.

Unfortunately, Matt forgot to speak to his father. Rather than ask for handouts, I resolved to earn my own money. I began modeling part-time at a boutique near Graceland. When I told Matt about my job, he said, “You’re gonna have to give it up.”

“But I’m enjoying it,” I said.

“It’s either me or a career, Baby. Because when I call you, I need you to be there.”

I quit the modeling job the next day, which left me with very little to do. I started spending even more time in Grandma’s room. I liked being with her. She was always in her favorite chair, ready to share her loving stories about Matt.

Most of them dealt with his early years and the family’s struggle against poverty. Suffering and worry seemed to be the very fabric of Sturniolo’s lives. Any time Matt failed to call home for two days in a row, they worried that something terrible had happened to him in California. Matt’s enormous success and wealth notwithstanding, they were convinced that some misfortune was going to snatch it all away from them. Sometimes all this talk of suffering depressed me.

My only relief was Patsy Sturniolo, and I went to her every chance I got. But then Grandma complained that she was being neglected. She reminded me that Matt’s old girlfriends used to stay with her every single night he was gone. Torn, I couldn’t wait for Matt’s return.

I anxiously waited for his call. It usually came in the early evening.

“Hi, Baby. How’s my girl?” he asked, his voice bright and full of energy.

Happy to hear from him, I said, “I’m fine, Matt.” I tried to mention how lonely I was, but he cut in. “It won’t be long, Baby. Just a few more weeks, and we’ll be wrapping up.”

“I’m glad. I’ll be so happy to see you.”

“Well, then, let me hear some enthusiasm.” He began describing a silly incident that had taken place on the set that day, trying to make me laugh.

I wanted to say, “Matt, talk to me, help me get through these new experiences.” But I realized that he didn’t want to hear about my problems. He felt he had enough of his own. When he asked me how I was doing, I became very animated and said, “Just great, Matt. Everything is wonderful.”

But when we hung up, I still felt an emptiness. I began counting the days until he came home.

After several delays Matt finished Fun in Acapulco and headed back to Graceland. Still afraid of flying, he traveled with the entourage in his huge, custom-built bus, the same one we’d taken to Vegas the year before. At every stop he called Graceland with a progress report. “I’m in Flagstaff now,” he said. “Only a few more days and I’ll be home. How’s my Little Girl doing?”

With each day’s phone call I became increasingly excited. I awaited Matt’s arrival with open arms and a big smile.

Finally one evening he called and said he’d be pulling in around midnight. By ten o’clock, fans were already waiting at the gate. How they found out was a mystery. I was among a small group of his friends and relatives gathered in the living room. All of us peered impatiently out the large window facing the long circular driveway.

I had been hoping that our reunion would be intimate, romantic. But I could now see that it was not to be, and I wondered if Matt would be upset that so many people were around.

By twelve-thirty, the fans at the gate started shrieking and the powerful glaring lights of the bus swept the driveway. Matt was behind the wheel and smoothly brought the bus to a halt. He was the first one out and he came through the front door like a shot.

“Where’s my girl?” he called out, looking around for me.

“Hello,” I said. It seemed more like months than weeks since I’d last seen him.

“Hello?” he echoed in a mocking voice, coming up to me. “I’ve been gone all this time and all you can say is ‘hello’?” Then he lifted me into the air, kissing and hugging me. “God, it’s good to be home.” He looked around and saw his grandma.

“Dodger, you waited up for me too, bless your heart.” He hugged her and patted the back of her head. Then he greeted the rest of the household. Matt could be extremely affectionate, and this particular night he had hugs for everyone.

With his arrival, Graceland sprang to life. The maids started cooking, and the boys were talking, greeting their wives and girlfriends, and soon they were bringing in the luggage and unpacking it.

After being alone so long, I found this sudden intensity and energy overpowering. I stood amid the commotion, watching Matt go upstairs, as he called out to Pauline, “O Five, what’s for dinner?”

I didn’t know whether to follow him or wait. I didn’t want to appear too excited, so I stayed downstairs until I heard, “y/nn, come up here.” Then I couldn’t get up those stairs fast enough.

We had a few quiet moments together in his room. He asked how I was doing, if I liked school, and if his dad was taking care of me. I started to tell him everything I hadn’t been able to on the phone, that I had missed him, that I had been lonely, that I really wanted to find a job. Then I stopped myself. This wasn’t what Matt wanted to hear.

After a few minutes of talking about Grandma, he kissed me and said, “Well, let’s join the others and eat.”

When we got downstairs the rooms that for weeks had been so quiet were now filled with guests laughing and cracking jokes.

Graceland was—as local DJ George Klein put it—ready to rock and roll.

We had a down-home meal of pork chops, cornbread, home fries, and crowder peas. While we were sitting around the table, local friends dropped by to visit and to catch up on all the gossip about Matt’s latest movie.

“Goddamn, she was a big woman,” Matt was saying about his costar. “Body like a man—no hips, and shoulders broader than mine. I was embarrassed to take my goddamn shirt off next to her.”

“Yeah, but M,” Alan Smith kidded him, “she only had eyes for you.”

“No way, Son, not with John Derek lurking all over the place. I’d be goddamned if I’d start a conversation with her and see his possessive eyes glaring at me. You know he gave her a car, and on the steering wheel it said, ‘Baby, you’re indispensable.’ Head over heels in love with her. Never saw anything like it.”

I was surprised to hear how Matt was talking about Ursula Andress, the alluring sex goddess of Dr. No.

“Wasn’t she pretty?” I asked.

“Pretty?” he snickered. “Hell, she had a bone structure so sharp, it could cut you in half if you turned too fast.”

Everyone howled, including me. Matt’s stories went on for hours. Again I felt out of touch with the conversation and wished I had some colorful stories of my own. I kept wondering when we were going to have some time alone. My world consisted solely of him. I sat quietly, happily observing him. Whenever he winked at me or gave my hand a little squeeze, I returned the gesture, thinking, now? Does he want me to leave, so he can follow me? But then he’d lean back in his chair and begin telling another story.

It was almost dawn before he yawned and said, “Well, we better get some sleep.”

We all rose from the table. He looked over at me, smiled, and said, “Do I have to write a note for school saying you were sick today? Think they’d believe me?”

Everyone laughed—and I blushed.

He put his arm around my waist as we made our way up the staircase to his room. If I appeared cool it was because I was mindful of something he’d once told me: He detested aggressive women. In fact, I was ecstatic. I’m finally going to be alone with him, I thought. All the phone calls, the worrying, the anticipation, and the delays are now over.

I got ready for bed at least fifteen minutes before he came out of his bathroom. He counted out his usual number of sleeping pills and took them one at a time. “Why are you taking those now?” I asked. “You’ll fall asleep.” I had plans, and the last thing I wanted was for him to doze off.

“Don’t worry. It’ll take a while for them to take effect.” He handed me a pill. “Here, just take one of these and you’ll get a good night’s sleep. It’s okay since you’re not going to school this morning.” He cautioned, “I wouldn’t advise it on school nights though.”

I looked at the red monster, remembering my earlier experience with it. “It won’t knock me out for ten days, will it?” I smiled at him as I swallowed the pill. It gave me a nice feeling. My body tingled. I was light-headed but more in control this time.

Snuggled in Matt’s arms, I was happy to be near him, his warm body against mine. Because of the sleeping pill, I could feel my inhibitions dissolving.

“How’s my Little Girl been?” He was speaking very softly now. “I’ve missed her. Has she been good?”

“Yes, she’s been good,” I said. “But she’s been waiting for you. It’s been so lonely here. She couldn’t wait to be in your arms, and she’s been thinking about you so much.”

“Shhh, don’t say anything else. I know you’ve missed me. I want you to just be here with me now and don’t think about anything else. Let’s enjoy each other.”

I was aware of the distant hum of the air conditioner, the music from the radio, the soft glow of the dim lights. Gently and tenderly he began to touch me.

He was passionate and again seemed to be making up for lost time. I felt sure the night would end with Matt finally making love to me. I was drunk with ecstasy. I wanted him. I became bolder, reaching out to him, totally open and honest in my need.

Then, as before when we’d reach this point, he stopped and whispered, “Don’t get carried away, Baby. Let me decide when it should happen. It’s a very sacred thing to me. It always has been. You know that I want it to be something to look forward to. It keeps the desire there. Do you know what I mean?”

I sat up in anger. “What about Nicole?” I yelled. “You mean you didn’t make love to her the whole four years you went with her?”

“Just to a point. Then I stopped. It was difficult for her too, but that’s just how I feel.”

“That’s how you feel. What about me? How long do you think this can go on? God, Matt, that takes a lot of willpower. That’s asking a lot of another person, one who’s in love and has strong, healthy desires.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying we can’t do other things. It’s just the actual encounter. I want to save it.”

Fearful of not pleasing him—of destroying my image as his little girl—I resigned myself to the long wait.

Instead of consummating our love in the usual way, he began teaching me other means of pleasing him. We had a strong connection,  much of it sexual. The two of us created some exciting and wild times.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - i think im going to start doing longer chapters🎀

[brahmsthirdracket]

A little bit of a baby hughes brothers fic from my drafts I didn’t really know where else to post. Enjoy!

Jack can’t fall asleep.

He tugs his blanket up over his face and breathes in deep. If he shuts his eyes and really concentrates he can almost trick himself into believing he’s at home in his real bed, and in a few hours he will wake up and go to school and see his friends and play hockey and everything will be normal.

His blanket doesn’t smell like home anymore though. It smells like airplane and rental cars and home is a thousand miles away. He’d pressed his nose against the plastic plane window and watched as they flew over a whole ocean, hours and hours of nothing.

When their parents had first told them, Jack had thought they were joking. It had sounded like something out of a story, like they were going to Mordor or Hogwarts and it had taken his dad pulling up Google Maps on his laptop right there at the kitchen table, to convince him that Switzerland was a real place. To Jack’s amazement, his parents had even seemed happy; telling them about the huge garden they’d have, the mountains they could ski in, even the fancy chocolate, blah, blah, blah.

“There’s a great programme in Zurich,” his dad tells them, eyes fixed on Jack, steady and warm. “Plenty of CHL alums, even some NHL.” He reaches across and pats Jack’s hand where it’s still holding a picture of some stupid wooden house in a stupid made-up country. “A new environment, new coaches can offer a different perspective. We’re not worried about you boys playing out there for a coupla years.”

Jack would very much like to differ. To his left, Quinn looks vaguely sick.

“Can we get a dog?” Luke asks, when it becomes obvious that their parents are waiting for some kind of response.

“Maybe,” says his mom, which is all it takes for Luke to fling himself out of his chair and throw his arms around their parents’ necks, squealing and vibrating like an alarm clock, the little traitor.

Later, when they’d held a second, more urgent family meeting, the news finally sunk to the pit of his belly.

“Fuck,” Jack had said, for like the third time.

“Yup.” They were slumped shoulder to shoulder against the headboard and Jack had felt Quinn shrug next to him.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” Luke had piped up from the foot of the bed where he was scratching stickers off the bedpost. “Dad said we can go to Eurodisney.”

“They have Disney here, idiot.”

“Hey,” says Quinn, as Luke’s face falls. “Lukey’s right. That would be really cool..”

Now, if he squeezes his eyes shut and concentrates really hard, he can almost trick himself into thinking he’s still lying on Quinn’s bed in Toronto, and if he opens his eyes he’ll see a constellation of glow in the dark stars. Jack swallows hard around the big, sore lump in his throat but it’s no good. He has to roll over and press his face into his pillow so he doesn’t wake Luke and Quinn, curled up together on the other air mattress.

Jack was supposed to share with Luke so Quinn could have a mattress to himself, because he was bigger but Luke had refused, and said Jack was horrible.

“Fine by me,” Jack had retorted, tossing Luke’s pyjamas out of their shared suitcase. “Not like I want to share with a whiny baby.” Quinn had shoved him good for that, and he’d landed hard on the floor, winded. Jack, blind with hurt and humiliation, had picked up The Diary of a Wimpy Kid and launched it right at Quinn’s face.

The fallout was truly epic, both of them wired on too little sleep and too many sugary plane pretzels. It took their parents pulling them apart and Luke bursting into noisy tears to make them stop, still panting and scrabbling on the wooden floors.

“Enough!,” his dad shouted over them, shaking Jack for emphasis. “Goddamnit. Do you three realize that right now, you’re the only friends you’ve got in this country?”

“Don’t remind me,” Quinn retorted, throwing his stuff back into his suitcase. Jack yanked himself out of his father’s grip and stalked down the corridor to lock himself in the bathroom and sulk. He’d refused to come out to poke sticks in the huge old tree in the yard with Luke, or walk to the little supermarket for ice cream, even refused Quinn’s vanilla and strawberry peace offering.

“Jack, c’mon, this is stupid. I said I was sorry already! This is melting!” He hears Quinn sigh, and then a slurp. “Okay, fine. You’re being a moron but whatever. That’s your pejorative.” Quinn is so dumb, Jack thinks. Just because he’s in middle school now doesn’t mean people won’t know he’s just making up words.

Every time he feels his resolve weaken he presses his face into his knees and thinks of his parents sitting across from him at their dinner table and saying You’ll make new friends, baby.

He has to come out eventually though, because he hasn’t eaten since the flight, but he refuses to speak to anyone all through dinner. There’s no furniture yet and his mom has no pots and pans to cook with, so they sit on the terrace, backs against the sun-warmed stone wall, and eat huge cheese and ham sandwiches from the supermarket, washed down with milk and apples. It’s cooler now, but the sunlight is still warm where it streaks through the tall, dark trees that surround them.

Jack pretends not to care about the neighborhood kids who’d waved from their bikes or the soccer ball his mom found stuck in a hedge, and puts himself to bed before it’s even dark. He curls up on his side and waits for someone to come up and give him a cuddle, but in the end it’s just Luke and Quinn, tripping over boxes and whispering.

The house is quiet, so quiet now, the only things Jack can hear are his brothers’ sleeping breaths and the pad of his bare feet on the floorboards. His hand grazes along the wall, seeking, until he finds his parent’s room. He’ll restart his protest tomorrow, he thinks, worming under the blankets into the perfect, warm, Jack-sized space between them.

***

“Dude,” Luke squeals, hand coming up to cover his mouth. It’s his favorite thing to say these days, because Quinn came home from school one day and suddenly everything was dude-this and dude-that. It would be kind of annoying except it’s Luke. Jack probably copied Quinn too, when he was that age, he thinks.

Jack lifts the wooden spoon and the pot with it, superglued together by their third failed treacle attempt and they both collapse into giggles again.

Their dad and Quinn left early to drive down to Zurich to pick up their new car. Jack and Luke had been left behind to help unpack boxes; the treacle a consolation prize and reward for not breaking any wine glasses.

They’re horribly hot and sticky, stripped down to their underwear and sitting on the counter to take turns trying to stir their concoction when the doorbell rings.

”Boys, there’s a friend for you!” His mom calls but Jack’s too busy pretending his teeth are glued together.

”We’re stuck to the counter!” Jack protests. He pretends to try and get up, flailing his arms and setting Luke off all over again. His teeth unstick themselves real fast when he looks up and sees who’s trailed his mom into the kitchen.

It’s the boy who’d waved to Jack yesterday in the street.

“Hi,” he says, smiling. He’s barefoot and tan, in shorts and a t-shirt with the arms cut off, a cap backwards on his head. He’s got big smile and a basketball tucked under one arm.

Jack can feel himself turning pink all over. He draws his knees up to his chest, suddenly shy, and wishing he was wearing more than his Raps underpants. He’s been in locker rooms all his life, and never felt embarrassed about changing in front of people.

“Hey,” says Luke, waving a spoon in greeting, not embarrassed at all.

“Nico,” says the boy, pointing a finger at his own chest. “Would you like to play?” he asks in slow, careful English, jerking his thumb in the direction of the street, his big brown eyes fixed on Jack. The treacle in his belly flutters like sticky butterflies.

”Uh,” says Jack dumbly.

“Only if you take your brother,” his mom interjects, eyeing Jack.

“Of course,” Nico says, easily, smiling at Luke. “Now we are three and three, it will be fairer.”

“They’ll be right out Nico, as soon as they’ve cleaned up,” his mom says. She winks at them. “Go wash or you’ll be a wasp buffet.”

“Be cool,” Jack hisses at Luke once they’re in the upstairs bathroom, trying to rinse the treacle off. Luke gives him a weird look from where he’s trying to towel off the stickiness in his hair.

“Dude! I’m always cool.”

”No being a crybaby if you fall on your ass.”

“Says you! What’s your problem?”

Jack doesn’t bother to respond, just sticks his head under the tap and hopes the cold water washes the heat from his cheeks.

[bropunzeling]

matthew/leon 💛 please!

💛 reunion kiss/relief (for u and also @msmargaretmurry)

The distance between Florida and Spain isn't all that large when you think about it. Definitely not in comparison to Leon's flight out from Edmonton. Nine hours and non-stop, compared to multiple legs and spending a short eternity in O'Hare. It shouldn't feel that long.

Leon swears he can feel every second of it.

By the time he's spat out into the rideshare zone, Leon's exhausted and mildly disoriented, clutching his bag and fumbling with his phone to call an Uber. He's hungry -- couldn't eat much on the plane, nothing sat well in his stomach -- and tired down to the bone. Every time he tried to shut his eyes, get some rest, he instead replayed the events of the night before on the inside of his eyelids. Watching the Panthers-Vegas game in bed with his phone three inches from his face, tracking number 19. Seeing him go down. Seeing him clutch at his shoulder. Seeing the way he skated later, like he couldn't keep his feet under him.

By an hour after the game was over, Leon had already booked flights.

Now, though, in the light of day -- sitting in the backseat of someone's SUV, watching the scenery pass and blur in his vision, clutching his phone in his hand like a lifeline -- Leon wonders if he's made a mistake. He texted Matthew as soon as he saw: how bad is it; are you out the rest of the series; should i come over; i'm booking flights. All sent in five and ten minute increments as soon as the final buzzer went. None of them answered. As much as he tries to tell himself there's good reason for that between the pain and the pain meds, he can't help wondering if it's really because Matthew doesn't want to talk to him. Won't want him there.

It's admittedly a little stupid, given that Matthew had tried so hard to get him to come to Florida after the Oilers got knocked out. Kept saying how good it would be to see him, how good it would be to actually spend time together. His parents would be in town. Leon could meet them, his little sister. Finally put faces to names. Take that next halting step towards something with a label, something they could talk about with people other than themselves.

Matthew had tried so hard, and Leon hadn't wanted to hear it. Losing was still fresh, stinging; the distance between them, normally easier to bridge, felt impossible to cross. He missed his parents, his sister. He didn't want to think about hockey and all the ways in which he was disappointed. He didn't want to sit around making nervous small talk while Matthew was on the ice, surpassing him.

It wasn't a fight, necessarily, but it wasn't not one, either. Leon had figured they'd take the time to cool off. Regroup once the playoffs were over, once Matthew had -- well.

All those thoughts and plans flew straight out the window the moment he saw Matthew hit the ice.

And now, here he is. Walking up the driveway to Matthew's house, a place he's only been to a handful of times. Hitting the doorbell before checking his phone, looking to see if Matthew texted him back; he hasn't yet.

The person who opens the door must be Matthew's mom; she looks like him, or Leon guesses he looks like her. Same eyes; same flash of a smile. "Come in," she says, obviously giving him a once over. "Leon, isn't it?"

"Uh," Leon says. He feels tongue-tied, fumbling his way through English in a way he hasn't in years and years. "Yes." He clutches at the strap of his bag. "Sorry to, uh. Show up like this. Uninvited. Um."

Matthew's mom hums. "I had a bit of a clue. He left his phone on the counter last night."

Leon's shoulders inch down from where they were stuck by his ears. "Oh," he says. "Is he asleep? I can, uh --" Wait should be the next word, but it's impossible to say. He's not sure he actually can.

She looks at him like she knows what he isn't able to get out. "You know where to go."

Leon does know where to go. He's only walked through this place a few times before, but the sense memory is so strong -- hanging around in the kitchen trading kisses between sips of coffee; how the edge of that picture frame had dug into his shoulder; the place on the rug where he'd stumbled, trying to shove Matthew into his bedroom, off-balance and unwilling to let go. The only thing he isn't sure about is what he'll see once he gets there.

The bedroom door seems so innocuous, and yet Leon holds his breath when he eases it open.

Matthew's asleep, hands curled towards his chest the way Leon remembers from nights in either of their beds, when his own hand would be taken ransom and impossible to extract. His mouth is open, hair matted. Even from here, Leon can see how much weight he's lost, the edges of bruises peeking out from under the collar of his t-shirt. Can't see whatever brought Matthew down last night, but the lack of visible evidence doesn't ease the sharp ache in his chest.

For a long minute, Leon just stands there, looking. Then, carefully, he sets his bag down by the door and crosses the room, easing himself down onto the side of the bed. Gives into impulse and strokes sweaty curls off Matthew's forehead, then leans over and kisses his hairline.

Matthew stirs, eyes fluttering open. At first, he squints, like he isn't sure what he's seeing; then, he shifts, and that movement must jar something, because he winces and curls into himself. Even as he does, though, one of his hands reaches for Leon's wrist, grabbing on, holding fast. "Leon?"

Leon lets out a breath. "Yeah," he says. "I'm here."

Matthew's smile is small, and yet so sincere it hurts to look at. When Leon kisses him again, he imagines he can taste it.