#can’t BELIEVE I’m saying this about a man

[lovecla]

FAVORITE KIND OF NIGHT ; HUGHES, SLAFKOVSKÝ

PAIR jack hughes x fem!reader, quinn hughes x fem!reader, juraj slafkovský x fem!reader, ex-cole caufield x fem!reader

SUMMARY when you found out your boyfriend of two years had been cheating on you the entire time, you do what every girl does when they get cheated on: you fuck his best friends.

WORD COUNT 5,5k

WARNINGS taboo content, cheating, foursome (f/m/m/m), p in v, unprotected sex, degradation, mention of stomach bulge, creampie, double p in v, rough sex, manhandling, dirty talk, humiliation, subspace, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), gagging, dacryphilia, brief aftercare.

FROM ME TO YOU my loves, listen to your clara very carefully: if you do not agree with ANY of what’s written here, please consider not reading. this is just a silly idea i had a few days ago and i wanted to write about it. i have zero intentions of offending anyone: this is pure fiction! none of this is real! anyways, thank you @cyberhughes for listening to my naughty thoughts about this plot and for having my back. love you juni baby, this one’s for you <3 and for those who are still here, have a nice reading!

𖧷

on that lonely night, said it wouldn't be love

but we felt the rush (fell in love)

it made us believe it was only us

THE THING about being a hockey girlfriend is that you will, most certainly, get cheated on.

When you first heard that, you thought it was just bullshit— not all men are the same and all of that. Some people were just unfortunate to have shitty boyfriends, but not you.

Or at least that’s what you thought before watching a viral video of your boyfriend of two years kissing three different girls at a party.

The video was blurry, and maybe if you were a little bit more naive, you wouldn’t have noticed that the man eating those girls’ lips was, in fact, Cole Caufield, the man you swore to be the love of your life.

“Maybe it’s not him, Y/n,” your friend said, voice soft and gentle, as she put your phone down and locked it. “Cole wouldn’t do that… right?”

Right, you want to say. Of course he wouldn’t do that.

But you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to lie and betray your own trust. You sat there, on your couch, thinking about what you were going to do.

Your relationship was public, Cole had already posted pictures of you several times over the years, but now, so was the fact that he cheated on you with not just one girl, but with two more.

Now, everyone knows that you got cheated on, and that you weren’t an exception to the Hockey rule.

“‘s okay,” you sniff, cleaning your nose with your sweater’s sleeve. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t, really, but what else could you do?

Truth is, even though you love— loved?— Cole a lot, you had been feeling a little bit weird. Cole didn’t seek you anymore, he didn’t look at you the same way he used to do when you first started dating.

You thought it was just the fact that he was tired and feeling responsible for his team’s recklessness, but clearly, it wasn’t just that.

Days passed after the terrible, awful video, and even though you hadn’t spoken to Cole in probably two weeks— he was away and you couldn’t bring yourself to answer his texts—, you wanted to break things up with him in person.

“Why would you do that?” Your friend asked over the phone, and you sighed.

“Because I’m better than he is,” you say. “And because I need to get closure.”

“I guess you’re right,” she sighs, and then she’s quiet for a few seconds. But, “I need to tell you something.”

“What?” You ask, rolling to your side. “What is it?”

“There’s going to be a party at Zegras’ place tonight,” she says. “Heard Cole shit ass is going.”

“Who told you that?”

“I was talking to one of his new buddies, and he invited me to the party. Said I could go if I kept my mouth shut to you,” she scoffed. “I thought about telling him to hell and then telling him to fuck himself but I thought it might be more useful to pretend I wasn’t going to tell you anything and then tell you everything.”

You chuckled. “Yeah. We’re going, then?”

“We so are going,” she giggles. “I’ll bring the eggs.”

“I’ll bring the flour.”

𖧷

THE PARTY looked more like a frat party than anything, which lowkey disgusted you.

You knew the majority of the players were young and still in their teenager mindset, but whenever you went to a party, it usually had more decorum than whatever this was.

The music was so loud you couldn’t hear your friend talking next to you. People were grinding against each other like they were in heat and ready to fuck in front of everyone, and the room had a strong smell of marijuana and cheap beer.

You rolled your eyes but focused on your reason to be there: find Cole, break up with him and maybe even embarrass him in front of all of his friends.

You tried to warn your friend about where you were going, but since the music was too loud, you just signaled to the door on your right. She nodded, and you moved around the room, feeling with your feet the way the floor shook with the song’s thrumming.

Fortunately, you didn’t have to walk much. Cole’s stupid ass seemed to have forgotten to close his room’s door, and now you were staring at the 5’8” man you thought was going to be the father of your kids, kissing another girl.

“So, this looks really fun, huh?” You said, closing the room’s door, and suddenly, all of the eyes were on you. Cole’s included.

“Y-Y/n, what,” he stutters, removing the girl from his lap and getting up. “What are you doing here, baby?”

“No, what are you doing here?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, feeling yourself start to burn with anger. “Weren’t you supposed to be in New York?”

“No, you see—”

“Is your name New York, sweetie?” You ask the girl who was previously kissing him, who looks like a scared, little kitten. Little does she know you’re not going after her— you couldn't care less about her. “Uh, I guess not.”

There were at least eight other people in the room, sitting there and goofing around. But now, all of them looked like they would pay a hundred thousand bucks not to be in Cole’s shoes.

“Y/n—” he tries again, reaching for your arm.

You step back, flinching away from his touch. “Don’t fucking touch me, Cole. You’re fucking sick. I hope y’all have fun,” you hiss, turning around and heading towards the room’s door again. You look over your shoulder, watching Cole’s sorrowful face. “Enjoy as much as you can, darling. I know his dick won’t make you happy.”

You leave the room with fast steps, not before hearing Cole’s so-called friends laugh out loud with your words. You could feel yourself burning with anger, which made you happy. You thought you were going to feel destroyed, sad and depressed when you confronted him about the fact that he cheated on you regularly.

But after seeing his pathetic expression and actions, you realised you weren’t the one who should be feeling that way.

Your legs were moving on their own, and when you noticed, you were on the second floor, barging in another room, opening its door with full strength.

Only to blush even more, this time not with anger, no.

“Oh, hey there, Y/n. Where’s the fire?”

Jack’s sarcastic tone made you hold the door’s handle tighter, and when you looked around, you felt like a fish out of its tank.

The room was poorly lit, only the yellow light from the lamps reflected on the dark walls of the room, making the environment seem more intimate than it really was.

There were sofas along the room, and low music was playing, probably coming from one of the cell phones.

Because not only Jack Hughes was there, but his oldest brother, Quinn and Juraj Slafkovský.

You didn’t even know Quinn and Jack got along with Slaf, yet there they were, sitting and chatting with each other like they weren’t all rivals during the weekdays.

They laughed with Jack’s little remark before Quinn said: “You can come in, we don’t bite.”

“Unless you want to.” Juraj was the one who said this, to your ultimate surprise, and you rolled your eyes, doing as they said and getting in, closing the door behind you.

“Dude, come on,” Jack laughs. “She has a boyfriend.”

“Not anymore,” you say, for the first time since you opened the door. You eyed the drink cart in the corner of the room, taking full steps towards it and opening the first bottle you say. Whiskey. Great. “I just broke up with Cole, actually.”

There was a second of silence before you heard some clapping behind you, which made you turn around and stare at the grown men sitting across the room.

“What’s this clapping for?” You ask.

“It was about time, Y/n, what the hell,” Juraj says. “Guy’s been cheating on you for months.”

“And you guys didn’t think of, I don’t know, maybe give me a heads up?” You ask, sarcasm pouring out of your mouth while you pour the alcoholic drink in the glass sitting on the wooden surface. Then, you walk until you’re sitting beside Quinn and Juraj. “Would’ve been nice.”

“Sorry,” Quinn says, poking your shoulder. “In my defense, I wasn’t around enough to know he was cheating.”

“In my defense,” Jack starts. “I don’t like him.”

“In my defense,” Juraj finishes, opening his legs and resting his arms behind his head. “I couldn’t do it, because I would’ve been called a homewrecker.”

You almost choked on your drink. “What?!”

“You know I’ve been wanting to fuck you for ages now,” he sighs, like he’s tired of saying that; like he’s been saying that for a long time now. “But you can’t exactly fuck your homie’s girlfriend, can you?”

“Word.” Jack says, leaning forward to fist bumping Juraj. Quinn only chuckles and you can’t believe your eyes.

You’ve known all of them for basically the same amount of time, and you liked them a lot. Jack was a little, teasing shit, way too different from Quinn, but he was funny and so were his brothers— hanging out with them was always fun.

Quinn was private but sweet, probably one of your favorite people in the league. His soft spoken demeanor had made its way into your heart and was now stuck there, for the rest of your life, probably.

And Juraj was an old friend, someone you knew even before you started dating Cole— he was the reason you and Cole got together in the first place.

So hearing that one of your closest friends wants to have sex with you is weird, especially because he had just confessed that in front of two other men.

You stare at them, incredulous. “What are you even talking about?”

“Come on, Y/n, you can’t be this oblivious,” Jack grunts, and you tilt your head, confused. “You didn’t notice the way he looks at you?”

“Fuck you, Hughes,” Slaf curses, giving him the middle finger. “Like you’re one to talk. Everyone knows you’re head over heels for her and you know which head I’m talking about.”

Quinn laughs like what Slaf said had been the funniest thing he’d heard in a while, while Jack simply shrugs and looks at you with expectant eyes.

“You are all drunk. That’s the only explanation I can find,” you say, still choosing not to see what is right in front of you. “And I’m about to be the next one.”

You took just one sip before Quinn wrapped his hand around your glass and took it out of your hands. You were about to complain and ask him what happened when he shook his head, clicking his tongue. “We are not drunk, Y/n. And we don’t want you to be.”

“What? Why not?” You ask. “I promise I’m not that type of person who talks about their love life when they’re drunk. I might talk about Tik Tok memes, though.”

“That’s worse than talking about your shit ass love life,” Jack murmurs and you turn around to look at him with angry eyes. “What?” He asks, grinning, with his hands in the air.

“It’s not my fault I can’t find the right guys,” you sigh, resting your head on Quinn’s shoulder like you’re used to doing. “Why do men suck?”

“Not all of them do, sweets.” Quinn says, placing his hand on your naked thigh, making you blush faintly.

“We don’t.” Juraj murmurs beside you, and you hum.

“Well,” you say, measuring your words. “Unfortunately, I can’t have any of you. So, yeah, I still have the same problem.”

“Who said you can’t have any of us?” Juraj says, and you lift your head, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “Or even better, all of us.”

There’s a beat of silence. The room is suddenly too warm for you, and even if you’re just wearing a skirt and a crop top, you still feel yourself starting to get sweaty.

The song is still playing, an unknown melody reverberating through the room, and what once felt big and spacious suffocates you now.

“You guys. You can’t be serious… right?” You ask, looking at each and every single one of them in the eye.

Jack is the first one to break the silence. “Come on, Y/n. Haven’t you ever thought about us like that?”

You can feel their eyes on you as you think of what to answer. You can’t say you haven’t— that would be a lie. You were loyal to Cole and you loved him, but you weren’t blind.

And now that you’re really thinking, these guys hadn’t been particularly sleek either; Jack with his obsession with calling you pet names, Quinn finding any and every excuse to touch you whenever you were in the same room and Juraj eye-fucking you from afar while you cuddled with his teammate.

So yeah, you have wondered about it before, but it all sounded so insane you didn’t think about it twice. The odds of all four of them liking you were pretty low, so why bother fooling yourself with these kinds of thoughts?

But now, you were sitting in the same room as them, with Juraj’s arm touching yours, Quinn’s hand running up and down your leg, and Jack’s eyes on you, like you were a prey or something similar.

“We can’t do that,” you whisper, trying your hardest to hold onto that single piece of sanity and morals you still had. “You guys are insane. Jack, Quinn’s your brother.” You reason, expecting to knock some sense into them.

Quinn squeezes your thigh slightly. “It wouldn’t be our first time.”

“Besides, it’s fine because we’re not going to fuck each other,” Jack says, like he’s telling you the sky’s blue. “I’m going to fuck you.”

“We are going to fuck you,” Juraj corrects, and you close your eyes, holding your hands together on your lap, trying to keep them still. “What do you say, chéri?” He asks, getting dangerously close to your neck, his strong, masculine scent making your head spin. His lips briefly touch your neck, the contact so light you wouldn’t feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of your surroundings.

Quinn’s warm, big hand is moving up, up and up, and that startles you.

You get up, panting as hard as if you had ran an entire marathon, and you stand in the middle of the room, surrounded by them. By your friends who had just asked to fuck you.

“I can’t— I can’t do this,” you whisper. “What about Cole, what about—”

“Sweetheart, Cole is probably balls deep inside someone else right now,” Quinn replies, and the others hum in agreement. “If you don’t want it because you don’t want to, it’s fine, you know we’d never force you. But,” he spreads his thighs, the outline of his cock is visible and right there for you to see. You gulp, not sure of what to do. “If you don’t want to do it because you still believe Cole deserves your kindness, then I have to say—”

“You’re being dumb,” Juraj finishes Quinn’s sentence, smirking. “You’ll be crying over one small cock when you have three waiting for you. It’s your pick, really.”

Your head is spinning and you feel aware of your body, which is something you hate. You can feel your arms and legs starting to give in, and to your absolute horror and panic, you can feel your underwear start to get sticky.

You walk towards the door, ready to leave, ready to put this night behind and pretend this was all a fever dream, and never think about this again. But, as you grab the handle, you know you won’t be able to forget this, not even if you wanted to.

So, you stop being a hypocrite, and grab the door’s key, locking the door once, and then twice, before exhaling and turning around again.

All three of them are staring at you, with the same expression; lust. It’s sinful and you are certain that you’re going to hell for this, but as you start to get undressed, right there, in the middle of the room, for all of them to see, you can’t help but feel like what you’re doing is nothing but right.

You remove your crop top, pulling the fabric over your head and dropping it on the floor, shivering slightly when the cold breeze hits your naked skin. You do the same with your skirt, letting it fall around your feet like a river, leaving you standing with only your bra and lace underwear in front of them.

“Fuck.” You hear one of them say, you’re not sure who, the word nothing but a whisper.

Juraj is the first one to get up, and get his hands on you. He’s rough, hungry and not careful at all, something you’re not used to but like it anyway.

His lips are on yours almost instantly, and his hands are holding you down while he licks and sucks your mouth. He tastes like some kind of candy you’ve had before, and your brain is screaming that what you’re doing is wrong, so wrong and that you literally just broke up with your boyfriend of two years not even thirty minutes ago but you can’t stop.

It’s maddening, it’s addictive and you want more.

It gets worse when you feel another pair of hands on your back, unclamping your bra. You hear a soft tud, which you can only assume is your bralette hitting the floor. Then, there are hands squeezing your tits, hands almost as rough as Slaf’s, and it has you moaning inside his mouth.

“So fucking soft,” you hear Jack say behind you as he gets closer, his hard dick poking your ass over your underwear. “Tits so fucking soft for us, baby.”

And he pinches both of your nipples, making you whimper loud and separate your lips from Juraj’s. There’s a saliva string connecting both of you and it makes you feel nasty.

He gives you a brief peck before gently slapping your thighs twice, silently asking you to remove your underwear, which you promptly do. You slide your lace panties over your legs, shyly throwing them away from you.

It’s only then that you notice Quinn staring at you from the couch, half naked with his dick out of his boxers— the thought of him getting off only by watching you makes you squeeze your thighs together, to stop your hole from clenching around nothing.

“Let’s get you wet and ready, alright?” Juraj says, manhandling you around like you were just a toy for him to break, until your back touched the cold, wooden surface of the table sitting in the middle of the dark room. You arch your back, pouting with the coldness and Slaf coos at you. “I’m sorry there isn’t anything more comfortable than this.”

“Like she cares about comfort,” Quinn snorts. “The only thing she’s worried about it’s whether she’s taking one or two cocks in that greedy pussy of hers.”

The humiliation Quinn’s words bring you is almost unbearable, yet it has you dripping anyway. Their laughs, the way they’re all staring at you like some piece of meat makes you feel hot all over.

Juraj lays you down carefully, only to spread your legs open with the same roughness he used before, when his lips were on yours. You yelped, feeling exposed and embarrassed— your bare, glistening pussy was on display for all three of them to see.

“Holy shit,” you hear someone say, Juraj maybe, and you cringe, hiding your face with your hands. “She’s perfect.”

“We’ll see about that,” you hear Jack say behind you and you remove your hands from your face. Suddenly, he’s sliding his pants down, his dick touching his covered abs as wraps his fist around his length, slowly jerking off in front of you.

You’re watching it in awe, even as you stare at him upside down, since your head is hanging off the table’s edge. He smirks down at you at the same time Juraj licks your clenching hole, making you moan for the first time, loud and involuntary.

“Ah.”

“Shit,” you hear Slaf say. “Pussy so fucking wet and sweet. Y/n, you’ll drive me crazy.”

You don’t answer; not because you don’t want to but because Jack places his hands on both sides of your cheeks, squeezing them together until your mouth forms the perfect O and he can slide his entire dick inside it.

He moans noisily as you gag on his long dick. It’s an unexpected feeling, to have your throat fucked like this— Cole wasn’t a big fan of messy, rough blowjobs— but fuck if it doesn’t get you wetter.

Juraj is still working hard on your pussy, licking your folds and throbbing clit, eating it with a loud slurp, the sound of your wetness making you close your eyes with pleasure and shame.

“Your mouth feels so good, pretty,” Jack moans behind you, still holding your head in place while he drags his dick through your throat. Your eyes are wet with unshed tears and you feel your mouth so full it is starting to hurt. “Almost as tight as a pussy.”

It’s overwhelming to try to manage the feeling of Juraj’s tongue and Jack’s cock on you. You feel warm, your hands are gripping the table like your life depends on it, and you can feel yourself start to slip more and more.

“She’s wet enough already,” Quinn states, and the fact that he’s referring to you like you’re not even there makes you whimper loudly around Jack’s cock.

Next thing you know, you’re being manhandled again; Jack’s rough hands leave your cheeks to hold your waist instead, taking you to the nearest couch and laying down with you on top of him.

You’re facing him, those blue eyes never leaving yours. “Y/n,” he starts, his tone gentle for the first time that night. You hum, adjusting yourself on top of him, until you have both of your legs on each side of his body, almost on fours on top of him, highly aware that Quinn and Slaf could see everything. “We are going to be rough.”

“I know,” you whisper.

“I’m not asking for permission, baby, do you understand that?” He talks to you like one would do to a child, using a tone so soft it could put you to sleep, if it were any other situation. You bite your lips, feeling Slaf’s long fingers sliding up and down your pussy, rubbing circles on your swollen clit while Jack speaks. “We are going to be rough. Tonight, you’re nothing but a toy for us to play with, alright? A hole for us to fuck.”

You nod, closing your eyes momentarily as Juraj pinches your clit, hard. He tugs it and it feels like he just placed a clothespin on you. It hurts so. Good.

“I need your words, baby.”

“I u-understand that,” you sob, hot tears running freely down your face as you continue to speak. “I w-want it.”

Jack chuckles, touching your face with care. “It would be so nice if we actually cared about what you want, huh?”

You bit your lip again, suppressing a loud moan. It would be even more embarrassing if they realized how wet you got every time they were mean towards you.

“Bitch gets wetter and wetter every time you say shit like that, Hughes,” Juraj says, and your entire face burns with shame, as you hide it in the crock of Jack’s neck. “Come see this shit, Quinn.”

You tremble as you hear a pair of steps echoing through the room, and without warning, you feel your hips getting lifted, just slightly, at the same time you feel two fingers being inserted inside deeply in your pussy.

You whine loudly, not even feeling pain with how wet you were. His fingers were moving around like you were nothing but a sex doll, making you hold Jack’s arm to steady yourself.

“Look at this tight, little thing,” Juraj says, twirling his fingers around, scissoring them inside you. “Merde. She’s milking my fucking fingers, bro.”

“I can see that,” Quinn hums. “Pussy so fucking greedy she’s taking you without complaints.”

You were about to moan again when Juraj removed his fingers from you, leaving you clenching around nothing, once again. “Let’s start, then.”

After that, it’s hard to tell what really happened. You were thrown around, and suddenly, Slaf was laying under you, Quinn was standing beside you and you assumed Jack was behind you.

You could feel one of them poking their cock through your slit, gathering all your wetness to use as lube. Then, he slowly started to insert it, the stretch making you whimper inside Slaf’s mouth, as he bruised your lips roughly again.

Jack had barely given you time to adjust to his length when you felt Juraj’s tip poking at your entrance too. You gasped inside his mouth, feeling his dick joining Jack’s inside you and.

Oh.

“Fuck, Y/n.”

You opened your eyes, glistening with tears, and stared at Quinn standing beside you, who was looking at you with fond eyes. He chuckles while staring down at you, taking his dick out again and grabbing it with his right hand, running the tip over your mouth.

The salty taste of his precum painting your lips white distracted you momentarily from the fact that Juraj was still trying to put his dick inside you, accompanying Jack’s.

But it wasn’t enough, of course— even if Juraj's thick, long fingers had stretched you, it didn’t compare to having both of their cocks inside you, together.

“Oh,” you heard Quinn coo. “She’s crying. Maybe she can’t take it?”

You shook your head immediately, not even acknowledging how desperate you looked. Quinn put his thumb inside your mouth at the same time Juraj completely bottomed out inside you, making you scream around the brunette’s finger.

“Sh, sh,” Juraj mumbled under you. “Take it, hm?”

The stretch hurt, yet you couldn’t ask them to stop— you felt so full and you swear you can feel them rearranging your guts, reaching so deep inside your body that if you were to look, you’d probably see a bulge in your stomach.

“Holy shit, man,” Jack moaned, dragging his dick slowly until only the tip was in, so that he could slam it back into you again. “She’s so fucking tight.”

“Move, Hughes.” Juraj hissed under you, and after that, everything fell into a pure state of lust.

Jack and Juraj slammed their cocks inside you rhythmically, like they were dancing a well rehearsed dance. Your body jolted forward as they pounded inside you, rough hands— you didn’t know who's— holding you by your waist and pulling your hair at the same time.

Quinn, who had just been jerking his cock while looking at you, decides to take the opportunity and shove his dick inside you, making you gag around his thick length.

“Shit, Y/n,” he moans, throwing his head back. “I’m going to wreck your mouth like they’re doing with your pussy.”

And he wasn’t lying. He tilted your head to the side and thrust his dick deep inside your mouth, until your nose touched his crotch area. You gagged, still not used to the reckless act, but you were far too gone to complain.

The room smelled like sex, lust and sin. The dark walls watched as you laid on top of Juraj’s much bigger body while you took their cocks in two of your holes, with your pupils blown and wide. Your face was destroyed, it didn’t need to be a genius to realize that; your mascara had smudged under your eyes and the tears had spread the black ink almost everywhere.

Your legs hurt, and so did your jaw, but the pleasure was bigger than any pain. You had never felt this dirty, this raw before, but you feared that after this night, you wouldn’t ever be the same; nothing besides them would ever be enough.

“She feels so good,” Jack says, voice filled with need. “She was born for this.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Juraj says, kissing your neck while you gagged around Quinn’s dick. “Born to take cock inside her tiny pussy.”

After that, you keep slipping and slipping. You come on their dicks at least twice, falling apart each time you feel your wetness coating their dicks.

Your throat is raw, your jaw is hurting, but Quinn is close to his climax, like his brother and Slaf.

Jack and Slaf are the first to come, both painting your walls white with their seed. It’s maddening, your belly feels full of them, but you don’t have time to acknowledge that properly, not when Quinn is also coming deep inside your throat.

You lay limp on top of Slaf’s broad chest, closing your eyes, tired.

But—

“Y/n, hey,” you hear Quinn calling, and you open your eyes, just barely. “Can you stand up, just for a bit?”

“Don’t let it go to waste, baby,” Juraj warns you, and you keep clenching even after they remove their dicks. It’s hard, you feel so open you should be disgusted at yourself but you still try to do as they said.

You feel a pair of hands lifting you, and you sigh, exhausted. They manhandled you until you were laying on top of the couch, head resting on your arms. A rough pair of hands— Jack’s— spread your legs open, leaving you exposed once again.

“Go on,” he commands, and you let it go, feeling their sticky cum pour out of your used, gaping pussy. You sob, feeling dirty.

“Jesus fuck.”

“I think I’m hard again.”

“Lowkey, yeah.”

You collapse on the couch once you feel like there’s nothing left, blacking out as soon as your head hits the leather.

𖧷

YOU WOKE up with a light touch on your cheek.

It takes a while for you to manage to open your eyes, but when you do, you thank whoever decided to put a yellow, warm lighting in that room.

“Hi.”

Jack’s voice brings you back to the present, and you lift your head, only then realising that you were in his lap, fully clothed— with clothes that weren’t yours— and covered with something heavy that felt like a blanket.

You frowned.

“What… what happened?” You ask, looking around. There was Juraj, who was placing a few takeout bags on the table, and Quinn, who was holding an old piece of cloth. “Oh my God.”

It was real. You fucked Jack, Juraj and Quinn.

“Oh my God,” you groan, hiding your face in Jack’s chest.

“I hope these exclamations of yours are because you’re wearing Zegras’ hideous clothes and not because you realized you fucked the three of us.” Jack says, sarcasm taking over his face.

“Why would we do that,” you mumble. “Gosh. That’s wrong in so many ways, I can’t even begin to—”

“Y/n,” Quinn calls you, dropping the cloth on the table— the same table Juraj had eaten you out on— and walking towards you, lifting your chin with two of his fingers. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I— Well— We—” you stumbled over your words, not sure of what to say.

He applies pressure on your chin, sapphire eyes squinting at you. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“I—” you sighed. “Yeah. I did.”

He smiled.

“Then we’re fine.” It���s all he says, before pecking your lips, briefly. It was your first time kissing him and you secretly didn’t want it to be the last.

“We liked it too,” Jack says once his brother lets you go. He winks at you, smirking. “I’ll never forget the sight of you full with my—”

You put your hand over his mouth, red as an apple. “Okay, alright, shut up.”

He chuckles, taking your hand away and kissing you, exploring your mouth with his tongue, just like his brother had done, barely two minutes ago.

“You guys are no fun,” you hear Slaf’s voice. “In my opinion, we should just keep doing this.”

“No,” you say. “This was a one time thing. We can’t keep fucking each other like this.”

“As I said, no fun.”

“She’ll change her mind in a few days, I just know it.” Jack says under you and you roll your eyes at his cockiness.

“I’m too tired to argue with you,” you say. “I smell Chinese food. Can we eat?”

“Yeah, we should probably do that,” Quinn says, nodding. “It’s late already. Let’s eat and take Y/n home.”

Juraj and Jack agree with just a few more complaints, and while you watch them take turns to feed you, you realize, with shame, that Jack was wrong about one thing.

It wouldn’t take a few days for you to change your mind.

You had already done it.

NHL MASTERLIST.

JACK HUGHES MASTERLIST.

QUINN HUGHES MASTERLIST.

[arrowmoose]

I don’t usually get into discourse, but y’know what? I’ll say it this time:

If you are afraid of cis men or have an aversion of some kind to them, that is a problem YOU need to fix. You have an aversion to about half the population. That is not something other people need to accommodate for, because most people CAN’T accommodate it. That is something you, on your own time, with your own devices, need to rectify. I don’t blame anyone for being afraid of cis men, especially if they have bad experiences with them. I get it. I understand. But the problem is, most people forget that’s only a teeny tiny sliver of cis men who have behaved that way. The majority of the cis male population are not what you are stereotyping them all to be. They are not “disgusting”, or need to be gotten rid of, or need to believe that they’re inherently bad just because they’re cis and a man.

Sound familiar at all?

If we as a community want to stop what has been afflicting us for decades and even CENTURIES, then we need to stop afflicting it on other people. You cannot, in good conscience, believe that being a “fuck cis men”, “men hater”, or any one of those is productive at all. It’s hypocritical. And, I thought as a community we were supposed to be better than the things that drag us down?

I’m so tired of people being hypocrites for these kinds of things. Not only are you hurting the actual good souls among cis men, but you’re causing more problems in our own community. Whatever bad experience(s) you had to make you believe all cis men are like this, I’m truly sorry, but believing such a thing is honestly immature and extremely harmful.

Again, I usually don��t get into discourse of any kind, but I’ve seen so much about this and this has been in my mind for a while.

i don't care how uncomfortable you are around cis men, queer cis men still need places to go, and sometimes, those spaces will be shared with yours. disabled and neurodivergent queer men and queer men of color especially need a place to go. the queer community isn't the "fuck cis men" community. that is the rad fem community. if you think cis men and people who read as cis men are inherently "too scary" or shouldn't be allowed in queer spaces, you joined the wrong community.

[inseobts]

Time Travel

trafalgar law x reader

what would happen if law finds himself back in the past where the person he secretly loved for years is still alive?

word count: 5.6k

tags: d3ath, time travel, angst, romance

masterlist // ko-fi

The battle had been hard fought, but victory was theirs. The crew of the Polar Tang had emerged victorious against a powerful enemy, though not without their wounds. Law stood at the bow of the ship, his eyes scanning the horizon, his mind too tangled with thoughts to focus on the quiet after the storm.

He wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

The sharp crackle of energy, a distortion in the very air around him. Before he could even react, the world around him swirled into a blur. His ship, his crew, the ocean—all of it seemed to twist and bend in on itself, until everything went silent.

Law staggered back, the strange sensation of time ripping apart around him leaving him disoriented. He couldn’t even register the shock of it before the world shifted again, and suddenly—

He was back.

But not back where he expected. Not where he was, not on the Polar Tang with his crew.

No.

He was on a ship—but not the one he’d been aboard moments ago. The crew around him was… different. Younger.

He looked around, taking in the familiar faces of his old crew. The same crew, but so much younger than he remembered. Shachi, Bepo, Penguin, and… his younger self.

He swallowed hard, his heart pounding. This wasn’t just an ordinary flashback. This was something else entirely. The situation was surreal...impossible, even. But there they were.

He was back in the past. The year when you were still alive.

The crew sense someone behind them and they all turn alarmed and see him, a familiar but different face. They gather on deck, buzzing with questions. Law stands with them, trying to appear composed despite his inner turmoil. His younger self stares at him with wide eyes, as confused as the rest.

“So… what exactly is going on here?” Younger Law demands, still clutching his sword, his eyes darting between the older version of himself and the others “You… You’re me, aren’t you?”

Law rubs his temples, trying to gather his thoughts. He can’t reveal too much, he doesn't know what happened and why he was there, but one thing he knows is that he can’t change anything that would affect the timeline.

“You could say that” he replies quietly “But I can’t tell you everything. It could alter the future in ways I can’t predict”

The crew watches, sit all around him, eager, full of questions. But Law can’t answer them. Not really.

"You don't look good Captain. It looks like something happened that changed you" Bepo says with a worried face "you look sad and dull"

"Yeah" Penguin nods looking between Law and his younger-form "did something bad happened? To us?"

"I can't say anything, I'm sorry" Law answers.

“Why are you here, then?” Shachi asks, his eyes suspicious but full of curiosity. “If you can’t tell us about the future, why show up? And you keep looking around like you're searching for something”

“I… I didn’t have a choice” Law’s voice is low, strained “I was brought here by someone or something. I can’t explain it. But I’m trying to make sure certain things… stay the same. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you"

Law clenches his fists at his side, wishing he could just tell them everything. But the risks were too high. There was no way to undo the damage if he did.

He shifts uncomfortably “Some things… are better left unknown. It's for your own good too”

Penguin watches him for a moment before lowering his head in understanding “I get it. It’s a lot.”

You, meanwhile, looked at the scene from afar. You were in the usual spot you used to hide in, watching quietly. You’re studying Law with an odd curiosity, but you’re noticing how different he looks from the man you knew.

Eventually, the questions begin to fade away, and the crew starts to break apart for the evening, everyone heading off in different directions.

Law feels a presence behind him and turns, seeing you walking toward him.

As you walk toward him, you see his face completely change expression, becoming one full of sadness and regrets.

He stands up abruptly.

“You’re not gonna run off, are you?” you ask, a small smile playing on your lips.

He blinks at you, surprised “I wasn’t planning to”

You tilt your head, studying him closely “It’s a little… overwhelming, isn’t it? All these questions, all these things you can’t talk about”

He stares at you, unsure how to answer. The weight of seeing you alive again is heavier than he could’ve imagined. Your smile is just as he remembers. Your eyes—the same ones he fell for so long ago—hold a curious warmth.

You break the silence again, your voice softer now “So… I promise I won't tell anyone. What happens to us in the future?”

It’s like a punch to the gut. Law wants to tell you. He wants to share everything with you... to make sure you know how much he loves you, how much he regrets never telling you before. But the words stick in his throat. He can’t risk changing anything. If he tells you too much, it could cause a ripple that would undo everything.

“You know I can’t say anything” Law says, his voice quiet, almost strained “I wish I could. But I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to change anything.”

You nod, almost as if you knew that would be his answer. You glance down at your hands, your expression thoughtful.

“Right… So I guess I won’t get any answers” You look up at him again, eyes searching his face for something “Well, there’s one thing I can ask that’s… probably safe.”

Law blinks, confused “What?”

You hesitate for a moment before asking softly, “Are we together? In the future, I mean. Are we… together?”

The question hits him like a bolt of lightning. His heart races, the truth weighing on him like a ton of bricks.

He realizes, suddenly, painfully, that he never really knew for sure if you felt the same. He never got the chance to know because he lost you before he could even confess his true feelings. And now, here you are, asking him, and he can’t give you the answer you deserve.

It was always a mutual love, but he never knew it. Not until now.

Law opens his mouth, but no words come out. He’s too caught up in the truth of it, in the painful realization that he should have said something sooner.

You smile, regret in your face for asking him that. You look down to avoid his eyes "I take it as a no..."

“I… I don’t know” he mutters finally, his voice barely above a whisper “I don’t know what happens.”

You smile faintly, as if you believe his lie “It’s okay. I guess… I guess I’ll just have to live to find out later on, right?”

He watches you for a moment longer, the pain of it all almost unbearable. You smile again, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

Later that evening Law walks quietly through the ship, his mind racing. He stops at the railing and looks out at the ocean, his thoughts heavy.

He wishes that you could survive, that you don't have to die the way you did. But how can he change the past without destroying everything else? Is it selfish of him if he is actually thinking about destrying the whole future to let you live?

Then he sees it—his younger self, standing on the deck, staring at you from a distance. The longing in his eyes is so clear, so painfully obvious.

Young Law’s gaze lingers on you, a soft expression on his face. He’s too scared, too silent, too unsure to say anything.

Now that Law knows about your feelings he wants to push his young-self into doing what he's so scared to do. Even if he can't change the future he wants the two of you to talk your hearts out so that in the future you won't die with the regret, so that he himself don't have to live with the same regret. Maybe the time you two have together isn't a lot but it's enough for living your love just a bit.

Law approaches him quietly, careful not to interrupt his thoughts. “You need to tell her,” he says softly “Before it’s too late.”

The younger Law turns, surprised, but doesn’t ask for clarification. He just looks back at you, still holding back, unsure.

“I can’t make you do anything, but if you wait, you might lose your chance forever” Law continues, his voice low, filled with the pain of his own unspoken words.

The younger Law says nothing, his gaze still focused on you. But after a long pause, he nods, a soft resolve settling in his eyes.

The next few days pass in a haze for Law. He tries to focus on the mission at hand, hoe to go back to his timeline and on the reason he was sent back in time—something about the crew’s safety and preventing a dangerous chain of events. But all he can think about is you, and the heartbreaking truth that he can’t tell you.

The most painful part is knowing that he’s already seen your death. He’s already lived through the pain of losing you, but now, seeing you alive again—alive in this timeline—he feels a gnawing desperation. He doesn't want that future to happen.

Later, on deck Law finds himself standing near the railing, staring out at the vast ocean as the crew moves around the ship. His thoughts are dark, clouded with regret, and he can’t seem to shake the image of you from his mind.

That push on his younger self wan't enough, but he can't risk more. His younger self, as always, is keeping to himself, sitting off to the side, hands on his sword. He’s quieter than usual, his eyes often drifting toward you—toward the woman he loves but hasn’t yet realized if and how to confess.

Law can’t help the sigh that escapes his lips. It’s a sharp, frustrated exhale, the weight of all the things he wants to say but can’t. It’s a constant battle in his head, fighting against the rules of time and destiny.

“Everything okay, Captain?” Shachi’s voice breaks through his thoughts.

Law turns to him, forcing a tight smile “Yeah. Just thinking”

Shachi looks at him, clearly sensing the tension, but doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he glances toward where younger Law is sitting, looking at you from a distance.

“Hey, what’s up with the kid?” Shachi asks “He’s been acting kind of… strange, lately.”

Law looks over, his gaze following Shachi’s. His younger self is staring at you, his expression distant but soft. There’s something in the way he watches you, something that Law recognizes all too well—longing, fear, hesitation.

“He’s… figuring things out” Law mutters, his voice heavy. He’s been hoping that his younger self would listen to him—that he would understand, act before it’s too late. But part of him still feels a lingering doubt.

“You think he’s gonna do something about it?” Shachi continues, raising an eyebrow “It’s kind of obvious he, or you for what it can mean, is in love with her”

“I actually don't know but I hope so” Law says, more to himself than to anyone else “I hope so”

Shachi nods and is about to leave when Law stops him "Tell me... was I always so obvious?"

He looks shocked to hear is Captain asking this but compose himself into a soft smile "We all knew from the beginning that you love her, you started acting different as soon as she arrived here. On the other hand y/n is more difficult to read"

This makes Law lose himself in thoughts again. The whole crew knew, this means they have a lot of regrets as well for what happened to you, to the both of you.

Later that nigh, the crew sits around the table, sharing a quiet meal. You’re there, of course, laughing with the others, the familiar warmth of your presence filling the room. Law can’t help but glance at you from time to time. He’s only allowed to watch you from a distance now, but it’s a sharp, painful reminder of everything he never said.

He catches sight of his younger self, who’s watching you too. This time, however, there’s something different in his expression. His eyes aren’t just filled with longing, they’re filled with determination.

His younger self stands suddenly, pushing his chair back and leave the crew confused. For a moment, Law feels a surge of hope. His younger self is acting on it. He’s going to do something.

On deck, under the stars, Young Law walks toward you, the weight of what he’s about to do heavy on his shoulders. You’re sitting by the edge of the ship, looking out at the night sky, lost in thoughts. When you hear him approach, you turn, offering him a warm, friendly smile.

“You sure you should be out here alone?” he asks, his voice hesitant “It’s a bit… quiet.”

You tilt your head, a teasing glint in your eyes “Isn’t that the point of being alone? You should try it sometime.”

He pauses, taking in your words, your smile. His heart beats harder in his chest, unsure of how to proceed. He’s always been like this—silent, holding back, afraid to say the things he really feels.

But now, after hearing Law’s advice, he knows what he needs to do.

“I… I need to tell you something” he says, his voice quieter than usual.

You raise an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued “What’s that?”

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He’s scared, but the truth has to come out “I… I like you. I like you more than just as a friend. I’ve always… I’ve always liked you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. But then, you smile, and it’s so bright, so genuine, that his chest aches with relief.

“I’m glad you finally said something” you reply softly “I… I’ve always felt the same way.”

His heart stops. The words hit him like a wave crashing over him, drowning him in warmth and hope “Wait… you do?”

You laugh softly, your eyes glimmering in the moonlight “Of course. It was pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

Young Law smiles, a small but relieved smile. He’s never felt this light before, this certain. For the first time, he’s no longer holding back.

Present-Law watching the scene from afar with the crew. Tears in his eyes because now he knows you got the chance to love each other even if for a short time.

Suddenly there's a blinding light and a few moments later when Law opens his eyes again he finds himself laying in a bed in the nurse of the Polar Tang. His mind is spinning..

He returns to the Polar Tang, to his crew, to the present. Was is all a dream? What actually happened?

Bepo at his side, sleeping.

He gets up waking him up and confused, the first thing Law asks "Did I ever got the chance to confess my feelings to y/n?"

"Captain are you okay? Why suddenly ask that?" Bepo says panicking.

Law sigh and firmly add "Just answer".

He's scared, he's scared it was all just a dream. Scared you died without knowing about his feelings just has it actually happened. Scared that maybe you actually never reciprocated his feelings, his love.

"Of course you did"

Law's eyes widened, his heart beating fast as never before. It wasn't a dream. He was actually able to change that small but important part of the past. You died knowing about his love. He lost you but not without giving you his full love.

He gets up and steps onto the deck.

There you are. Standing right in front of him, alive, vibrant, and here.

He stops, unable to breathe for a moment. His mind races. This can’t be right. He’s seen you die. He’s seen your body fall—he’s seen everything. But now you’re here, smiling at him like nothing ever happened.

“y/n?” He barely manages to choke out your name, his voice filled with disbelief.

You smile at him, a familiar, gentle smile “You finally woke up. What’s wrong, Captain? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Law’s world tilts on its axis. He can’t understand it. He doesn’t know how this is possible—how you’re alive in front of him now.

But there’s only one explanation: the confession. His younger self’s confession. Somehow, it saved you.

He watches you, stunned, his chest tightening as emotions flood him.

“I—I thought I… I thought you…” he stammers.

You tilt your head, noticing his confusion “What’s the matter?”

The weight of it all is too much for him. He can’t speak, can’t form the words. But deep inside, he knows this is it—the moment when everything changed. The future he thought was set in stone, the future that broke him, had shifted. And you… you were still alive.

He shakes his head, trying to collect himself. He knows he’s seeing you right in front of him, alive, as if the death he witnessed in the past never happened. He swallows, his throat tight, unable to find the words to express the overwhelming rush of emotions.

“You… You’re…” He struggles to speak, but the confusion weighs him down. It’s not just the shock of seeing you alive—it’s everything that led to this moment, everything that shouldn’t have happened.

You raise an eyebrow, stepping closer to him “What happened? Is something wrong?”

“No” Law says finally, his voice hoarse “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just… I don’t understand.”

“Are you okay?” you ask, your voice soft with concern, breaking through the tangle of thoughts in his head.

Law doesn’t know how to respond. He doesn’t know what to say to you, not when everything feels like it’s slipping through his fingers. He’s terrified that this shift in fate—this small change—could lead to something even worse.

“I’m fine” he says, forcing a smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. His mind is still racing, trying to process what’s happened. He doesn’t know how this happened—how the timeline could have been altered so drastically—but he knows one thing for sure.

“You’re here” he repeats, as if the words will make sense of the situation “You’re alive.”

You blink, a little confused by his intensity “Well, of course I’m alive, Captain. Why wouldn’t I be?”

A sharp pain stabs at Law’s chest as he recalls the past—the version of the future where you were dead. It had been so final, so irreversible. The pain of losing you had been one of the deepest regrets of his life. But now? Now, there’s a chance, maybe a small one, but still a chance, that things could be different.

The realization crashes over him like a tidal wave.

He looks at you again, this time with a weight that wasn’t there before. You’re alive. You’re here. And he didn’t have to lose you, not like before. His younger self had given him a second chance, and now… he has to hold on to that. He has to protect it.

He runs to close the distance between you two and hugs you like he never has. You're too schocked to move at first but then you put your hands around him.

Later, in the crew’s quarters, Law lies awake in his hammock, his thoughts spinning out of control. How could things change so quickly, so drastically? He can’t understand it. He should have never interfered, never given that advice to his younger self. But then again, he couldn’t let you die "again" without knowing that you were loved.

A soft knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts. He doesn’t need to ask who it is.

“Come in” he says quietly.

The door creaks open, and there you are, standing in the doorway. You look at him with a slight frown, your arms crossed over your chest.

“You’re still awake” you say, your voice gentle “Everything okay? You’ve been acting… different.”

Law sits up slightly in his hammock, his heart racing again. He’s never been good at hiding his feelings, and right now, his emotions are a whirlwind. How could he explain to you what he’s feeling? How could he tell you what’s going on in his head when he barely understands it himself?

“I’m… fine” he says, though it feels like a lie. He’s anything but fine. “Just thinking.”

You step into the room, closing the door behind you, and sit down on the chair across from him. “About what?”

“About… everything” he mutters “About how things are different now.”

You look at him, studying him closely. You can tell something’s weighing on him “Different how?” you ask, your voice soft but insistent.

He looks at you, torn between the need to protect you and the crushing urge to be honest. But he’s afraid of what that honesty might cost him. He’s afraid that if he tells you too much, it will change everything again.

“You wouldn’t understand” he says, his voice low. He can’t bring himself to explain the truth, at least not now.

You fake to be offended with a funny expression, and he loves when you do that because it makes you even cuter. You study him for a moment, your expression unreadable. Then, as if deciding something, you stand and walk over to him. Without a word, you reach out and gently place your hand on his arm.

“I understand more than you think” you say quietly, your fingers warm against his skin “You don’t have to carry all this on your own. You don’t have to hide from me.”

The softness in your voice, the warmth of your touch, cracks something deep inside him. His chest tightens, his breath catching in his throat. How could he have been so blind to what was right in front of him all this time?

He looks at you, really looks at you for the first time since he arrived in this timeline, and suddenly, he sees it all... the way you care for him, the way you’ve always been there, despite the unspoken distance between you. He realizes that he never really understood the depth of your feelings until now, and maybe that’s what changed. Maybe that’s the gift he was given, a second chance to finally get it.

“You’re right" he whispers, his voice thick with emotion “I don’t want to hide anymore.”

You look at him in surprise, your eyes widening slightly “What do you mean?”

He swallows hard, gathering the courage to say the words that have been buried deep inside him for so long.

“I… I love you” he says quietly, but with absolute certainty. The words feel like a weight lifted off his shoulders, the truth finally out in the open.

You smile, a small but genuine smile, and take a step closer to him “I think I’ve known that for a while”

You both sit in silence for a moment, you studying him while he's still lost in his thoughts. The weight of the admission must hit you differently, given all the strange tension and confusion his behavior has caused since his return to the present. But then you speak, and your words pull him back from the edge of his spiraling thoughts.

“Well, if it’s any comfort, I love you too” you say, your tone light but sincere “I mean, you’re kind of an idiot sometimes, and you’ve got this whole ‘broody loner’ thing that’s exhausting to keep up with, but… yeah. I love you, idiot”

The way you say it, so unguarded, so natural, he didn't realise how much he needed to hear those words until now, even though they come from you here, in this altered present.

He exhales a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair “You really don’t make things easy, do you?”

You smirk, stepping closer to him, your arms crossing over your chest “That’s part of my charm”

Law shakes his head, the corners of his lips twitching upward despite the heaviness still clinging to him. For the first time since he returned to this timeline, he feels lighter—like the crushing weight of regret and grief that had followed him for years is finally lifting.

But there’s still a lingering doubt in his mind. Did he truly rewrite the future, or is this just a fleeting moment of borrowed time? And if things really have changed, how much has been altered?

You notice him deep in thought again, so you lean in and press a quick, gentle kiss to his cheek. The sudden gesture pulls him out of his thoughts, and he turns to look at you, his expression of surprise. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction.

“Captain, why the shocked face? We’ve done worse than this” you tease, offering him a playful wink as you start walking towards the door “Sleep well now.”

On the Polar Tang, it doesn’t take long for the crew to notice the shift between you and Law.

“Uh, are you two… okay?” Shachi asks, looking back and forth between the two of you as you stand side by side on the deck.

You raise an eyebrow “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Dunno. Maybe because since the day he fainted, Captain here looks like he saw the ghost of his past mistakes?” Penguin says.

“Enough” Law snaps, his voice low but firm. He doesn’t need the crew making a spectacle of this, not when he’s still trying to make sense of everything himself.

You, on the other hand, seem entirely unfazed by their reactions. You smirk, leaning against the railing with an air of casual confidence. “What’s the matter, Captain? Wanna give them something to really talk about?”

Law groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. You’ve always had a way of getting under his skin, but somehow, it feels different now, lighter, even.

“Don’t you all have work to do?” he mutters, turning his back to them and stalking off toward the ship’s interior.

But as he walks away, he catches the faint sound of your laughter behind him, and for the first time in a long while, it doesn’t sting.

Later that evening, Law finds himself alone in his quarters, staring down at a stack of charts and papers he’s been meaning to sort through. But his mind isn’t on his work, it’s on you, on the way your presence has started to fill the cracks in his carefully constructed walls.

He still doesn’t know how this timeline shift works. Did his advice to his younger self truly rewrite everything? And if so, how much of the past is still the same? Did your future really change or is it just temporary?

His thoughts spiral as he recalls the moment his younger self finally confessed to you. It was a subtle nudge, a small push in the right direction, but it had changed everything. If his younger self hadn’t listened, if he hadn’t acted, would you still be gone? Would you have died with regrets, with unspoken feelings left between you?

A knock at the door pulls him from his thoughts, and he looks up to see you standing there, leaning casually against the frame.

“Captain” you say, your tone light but teasing “You’re brooding again.”

He sighs, gesturing for you to come in “What do you want?”

You step into the room, closing the door behind you “Just checking on you. You’ve been acting really weird lately”

Law leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest “I’m fine now”

“You always say that” you reply, walking over to stand in front of his desk “But we both know it’s not true. So what’s really going on?”

For a moment, he considers brushing you off, keeping the truth locked away like he always does. But then he looks at you, really looks at you, and he sees the concern in your eyes, the genuine care that you’ve always shown him, even when he didn’t deserve it.

And he realizes that maybe, just this once, he doesn’t have to carry the weight alone.

“I…” he hesitates, the words catching in his throat “I was afraid I’d lost you.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his admission, but you don’t interrupt, giving him the space to continue.

“There was a time when you weren’t here” he says quietly, his voice thick with emotion “And it was… unbearable. I didn’t know how to fix it, how to stop it. And now…” He looks down at his hands, his fingers curling into fists. “Now, you’re here, and I don’t know if it’s real or if it’s just another cruel trick.”

You take a step closer to him, reaching out to place a hand on his arm “I’m here, Law,” you say softly “I was always here with you and I'll always be. Whatever happened, whatever you went through… I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He looks up at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But all he sees is the same fierce determination that he’s always admired in you.

For the first time since his return to the present, he feels a flicker of hope, hope that maybe, just maybe, this new future is something he can hold on to.

Most of the crew is asleep, leaving Law in the solitude of his quarters. He stares out of the small circular window, his mind a battlefield of thoughts. He knows he should be relieved, grateful, that you’re alive, but a part of him can’t let go of the fear. The fear that this could all slip away in an instant.

The soft creak of the door pulls him from his thoughts. He doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s you.

“You’re still awake... again” you say, your voice quiet but firm.

He sighs, his back still to you “I could say the same to you.”

“Touché.” You step further into the room, and the door clicks softly shut behind you “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous” he mutters, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite himself.

You roll your eyes, though he can’t see it “Funny. But seriously, I’ve been thinking about… us.”

That makes him turn. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, he feels his breath catch in his throat.

“What about us?” he asks, his voice low.

You take a deep breath, stepping closer to him “I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday. About how you were afraid you’d lost me.”

His jaw tightens, and he looks away “I shouldn’t have said that. It was selfish.”

“No, it wasn’t” you say firmly, closing the distance between you “It was honest. And I don’t want you to think you have to keep all of that to yourself anymore.”

Law exhales, running a hand through his hair “You don’t understand,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper “I’ve seen what it’s like to lose you. I’ve lived with it. And I don’t know if I can do that again.”

Your heart aches at the raw vulnerability in his voice. Without thinking, you reach out and place a hand on his chest, right over his heart.

“You won’t lose me” you say softly “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

He looks down at you, his eyes searching yours. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he wants to explain, but the words catch in his throat. Instead, he reaches up, his hand covering yours where it rests against his chest.

The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken emotions. And then, almost imperceptibly, he leans down, his forehead brushing against yours.

“y/n…” he murmurs, his voice trembling.

You close your eyes, leaning into him. “I’m here, Law. I’m right here. We chose a life that’s unpredictable as pirates. I know that. But that doesn’t mean we can’t allow ourselves to love. Do you think it would hurt less if we didn’t use the time we have together to love each other? Because I don’t think so. In fact, I think the opposite.”

Something inside him breaks at your words, the walls he’s so carefully constructed over the years crumbling in an instant. He tilts his head slightly, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative, almost hesitant kiss.

The contact sends a jolt through both of you, and for a moment, neither of you moves. But then you press closer, your hand sliding up to cup his face, deepening the kiss. It’s not hurried or frantic, it’s soft and deliberate, a silent promise that neither of you is willing to let go of this moment.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathing heavily, your foreheads still pressed together.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admits, a small, nervous laugh escaping.

You chuckle softly as his thumb brushing against your cheek.

You smile, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels like the weight of the world isn’t resting on his shoulders.

“I mean it, Law” you say, your voice serious now. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He nods, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Thank you” he murmurs against your hair.

For the first time in years, he allows himself to hope, for you, for him, for a future that no longer feels so uncertain.

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

Bad decisions // Quinn Hughes

No god, no religion … just bad, bad decisions

Summary: Quinn gets dragged to his girlfriends favourite bands concert despite it not being his favourite genre, but all it took was one song to change his mind.

Warnings: drinking, swearing, light fluff, pda (18+)

── ∘◦ ⛤ ◦∘ ──

“I can’t believe you’re dragging me to this.”

“Hey, you knew what you were getting yourself into dating me.” I commented as I applied my lipstick, looking back at Quinn in my mirror.

I wasn’t wrong, but I also never expected him to pursue someone like me either. I wouldn’t really consider myself an “alternative” or “goth” girl though. I had black hair, tattoos and listened to heavier music but I preferred wearing aritzia sweat suits, doing Pilates and swapped wing liner out for clean girl make up. Still, I wasn’t the stereotypical girl that most hockey players go for. I remember the first time I met Quinn and how terrified I was to take my sweater off and expose my full sleeve. But much to my surprise, he couldn’t keep his hands off me. Actually, any time I went to get a new tattoo he came with me and held my hand the entire time. It was a kind of intimacy I never thought I would find.


“I know, I’ve just never been to a concert like this. What if I get stuck in the middle of a mosh pit? Also how loud is it gonna be?”

I chuckled, zipping my boots up, “we’ll stay along the side, and yes, bring earplugs.”

“Oh god.” He groaned, throwing his head back on the couch. “You are so lucky I love you.”

“Well…” I trailed off, standing between his legs, leaning over and gripping onto his thighs. “If you’re on your best behaviour, I’ll reward you for it.”

Quinns head popped up as I peaked his interest. “What kind of reward?”


“Whatever you want.” I replied, hovering over his face. His lips ever so slightly brushing against mine, “but you need to be a good boy.”

“I’m about to become the biggest Bad Omens fan you’ve ever seen.”

About an hour later we arrived at the venue, my stomach was filled with butterflies from excitement. I’ve been a huge Bad Omens fan since 2016 and this was my first time seeing them post-covid. Their new album had been out for over a year and I played it so much I think Quinn was getting sick of it, but I would catch him mouthing the lyrics when he thought I wasn’t looking. This man tried to convince me he only listened to rap and country, but I firmly believe he didn’t want to admit he likes my music. I think he was paranoid his brothers or his teammates would tease him for it.

“I think you’d look really hot in that shirt.” 

Quinn and I waited in line at the merch booth before the concert, which was incredibly long. I saw a hoodie on display that I really liked so I wanted to see if they had it in my size. Another shirt caught my attention and I fully envisioned Quinn wearing it with his black Levis, a backwards hat and his white nikes. Just the thought of it made my knees buckle. 

“You think so?” Quinn leaned his head down to take a better look at the shirt in question. His cheek brushed against me, making his cologne hit my nose. It was the perfect mix of sage and cedar. I gently kissed his cheek, a bashful smile appeared on his face before he pressed his lips to my temple.


“Absolutely. I mean, you make everything look good.” I breathed, still reeling from his lips, “but I’d love to see you in that.”


“If you say so.” He smirked as it was our turn. He bought my hoodie for me along with a signed vinyl, and the shirt I told him to get. He sent me the most devilish grin as he tapped his credit card, knowing he just made me incredibly happy.

We made our way towards the stage, it was already pretty packed so I suggested we stood at the back near the sound booth. That way we would be out of the way of any crowd surfers or mosh pits because no one was dumb enough to fuck around expensive sound equipment. The concert was everything I hoped it would’ve been and more. The openers, I see stars and Erra put on incredible sets. Quinn looked like he seen a ghost when Erra came out, considering they were a little heavier than I see stars were, which made him look so adorable. Towards the end of their set, he was more impressed than scared which was a relief. Small smirks kept showing up on his face that he desperately tried to bite back but he couldn’t.

“You surviving?”

“Yeah, thank you for bringing me.” Quinn replied taking a sip of his drink, “I’m actually having a lot of fun.”

“Good, I’m glad.” I mused, “we haven’t even got to the best part yet.”

Before he could say anything, the lights went dark again and Bad Omens slowly made their way to the stage. My heart was rapidly racing in my chest as the boys opened up with Artificial Suicide. I immediately started jumping up and down, screaming the lyrics, completely forgetting about the world around me. Every now and then I would look up at Quinn, who just had the biggest smile on his face watching me enjoy myself.

Halfway through the concert, the band slowed the pace down, which came at the perfect time. My drinks were starting to hit me, making my head feel lighter than normal. The melody for Bad Decisions started and I immediately fell back into Quinn, becoming enamoured with how his breath crept along my neck.

Her skin feels unholy, but I'm still drawn

The morals I'm holding, you know they're gone…

His arms wrapped around my stomach as he slowly swayed us back and forth to the beat, slow and reverberating. His skin felt warm to the touch as his chin rested gently on my shoulder. The low vibrations from the song along with the siren red lighting was stirring something up in me. My hips instinctively rolled into him, feeling overstimulated by every single sensation that took over my body. I knew Quinn wasn’t complaining, considering I felt him twitch through his jeans.

You can be all I got, what's the difference?

Hennessy and a lot of bad decisions

All I know is bad, bad decisions

Quinn brushed my hair away from my shoulder, slowly planting kisses on my exposed shoulder. Each kiss nonchalantly making their way up to my neck, then my jaw, causing goosebumps as his week old stubble grazed my skin. My eyes stayed shut, as his lips dragged all over me. An audible gasp left my mouth as he lightly nipped at my skin, gently sucking, leaving his mark on me.

“Turn around.”

I turned around, his arms found me again and bringing me closer to him. My hands found their home in his hair, enveloping his curls between my fingers. The soft aura of the red lights made his green eyes the perfect muse in this dark room. I was so lost in him that I forget where we were, the crowd completely melted away from us and it was almost as if we were the only ones here. He had that effect on me, he knew how to make me feel like I was his, and only his. His forehead pressed lightly against mine, lips hovering so close I could taste the whiskey on his breath. The gap was finally closed, his mouth enveloping mine as I turned into putty in his hands. Our tongues danced together as the song was getting close to the end, but Quinn didn’t seem to care. He pressed me harder against his body, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and kissing me with such desperation. He never gave me any chances to come up for air, his lips stayed glued to mine as if my mouth gave him a new breath of life.

Bitter ends to the night, I'm along for the ride

Out of breath, out of time, everything has a price

We broke apart and the smallest smile curved at the side of his mouth as he trailed his thumb along my mouth. Neither of us realized the band started to play What do you want from me? shifting the energy in the venue. The music slowly filled my ears like I was underwater and coming up for air finally. I smiled back at him, I was in a complete state of euphoria.

“Okay you win.” Quinn said into my ear as I gripped onto his shirt to keep my composure. “I definitely just found my new favourite song.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.” I mused as I had a lightbulb moment, “we need to get you into the pit.”

“Babe, no -“

I grabbed his hand and drug him into the crowd. Everyone was moving around and having the best time. I had to admit this was one of their better songs and it’s physically impossible to stay still during it. Quinn stood there frozen before giving in and started to jump around with me, not daring to let me out of his grasp. He sung the lyrics he was embarrassed to admit he knew with me, caught a guitar pick for me and held me as I cried during Just Pretend.

“Holy fucking shit, this guy is an animal.” Quinn gasped as the lead singer, Noah let out the most primal, gluttonous screams during the encore of dethrone. He wasn’t wrong though, I could feel those screams in my bones.

The concert finally ended, tears prickling my eyes as black and red confetti stuck to us and covered the entire floor. I didn’t want to leave but we had to. That was the best concert I’ve never witnessed and it felt so bittersweet that it was over.

“So, have I been a good boyfriend or what?”

I just chuckled as we made our way outside. The cold air hit my face and it felt like heaven after being a sweaty mess for three hours. We got into the car and Quinn leaned over to help me with my seat belt. I never once questioned why he started doing it, but I wasn’t about to complain about my boyfriend being this close to me at any given moment. His eyes were a perfect shade of green, the kind of green you wanted your morning matcha to be. They peered so deeply into mine I didn’t realize he asked me a question.

“So what’s my prize?”

“You’ll find out when we get home.”

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 21

Wow! It always amazes me when story gets past 20 chapters. It makes it ending even harder. But ending it is. I completed the final chapter yesterday. It will have 24 chapters and then it one of the other fics I'm currently working will replace it.

Chrissy makes good on her promise to blow each of the kids' minds.

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

~

By invite only is what Chrissy said. Holy shit. There were actual famous people here and Steve was freaking out.

Steve, Robin, and his kids were picked up in a shiny, black limo and taken to Wayne’s ranch. There the amphitheater was set up for Corroded Coffin to play. As evidenced by the black and gold drum kit with their logo slapped on the bass drum.

There were actors and other musicians there. Some pretty big names too. So that got Dustin and Mike sorted. They were freaking out and geeking out about each new person they spotted.

Then Max was tugging on Steve’s arm. “Steve. Steve I can’t believe it. He’s here.”

Steve looked over to see a man, maybe a little bit older than he was standing there talking to Jeff’s dad. He didn’t look like much, but the way Max was vibrating next to him, he knew the guy was famous in a way only see would recognize.

“That’s Steve Caballero,” she sighed wistfully. “When I was out in Cali, he was pioneering the skateboard scene. He’s so awesome.”

And then it hit him. What Chrissy met when she said that she could do something special for each of the kids with one event. And this was Max’s.

“Come on,” Steve said brightly, tugging on her arm. “We’re going to go say hello.”

Max stared at him in shock and tried to tell him she wasn’t going to do that, when Steve yanked on her arm and lead him over to Mr. Lawrence and Steve Caballero.

“Hey, you’re Steve right?” he said with his most charming smile. When the guy nodded, he continued, “My friend here is a huge fan. This Max Mayfield.”

Steve looked her up and down. “Long or standard?”

“Standard,” Max said immediately. “I’ve been working on my kickflip and I’ve almost got it down.”

Steve C. raised an eyebrow. “Where do you go to skate around here?”

Max chatted excitedly with him. “Doing street is the best I can hope for in Hicksville, but there is a quarry nearby where I go to practice my bigger stuff.”

“You should really show me while I’m in town...” Steve C. said as Steve wandered off.

Will was talking to a man and woman and so Steve started walking over that direction.

Will spotted him and pulled him over. “This is Stephen Cosgrove and Robin James. They do the Serendipity books.”

Steve turned his head to the side as he thought about it for a moment. “Is that the one with big pink and green sea dragon or whatever?”

Stephen smiled. “Sea dragon is a much nicer term than sea monster, but yes. That’s us.”

Steve snapped his fingers. “I’ve been meeting a lot of Steves today. First Steve Caballero who skateboards and now you.”

Robin and Stephen shared a glance.

“I’m a Steve too.”

They both “ooh’ed” and nodded.

“This young man was telling us that he wanted to illustrate children’s books,” Robin J. said with a smile.

Steve ruffled Will’s hair. “He’s really good, he was even teaching me a thing or two over the summer.”

“There’s children’s illustration exhibit in Indy while we’re here,” Stephen said brightly. “I think he’d be very interested in seeing it.”

Will looked up at Steve, hopeful.

Steve ruffled Will’s hair again. “We’ll have to ask your mom, but yeah that sounds great. If I can get the information from you.”

And both Stephen and Robin J. hurried to do just that with Robin J. handing Will her personal business card. “When you get a little older, give me a call,” she said with a wink.

Will waved dorkily at them and then let Steve lead him away. “This was so cool, Steve. Thanks for inviting me. I’m more of a ‘The Clash’ fan, but meeting my heroes is so mind blowing and to go to see the exhibit would be the icing on the cake.”

Steve smiled, putting his arm around the kid. “We’ll have to see. Your mom is still mad at me for the whole Eddie is a sugar daddy fiasco.”

“Which is bullshit,” Will huffed. “Even Jonathan thinks Eddie is sweet and this was before you got him that camera. As he pointed out Eddie was out of town and a lot of the gifts were cute and not over the top expensive.”

“I wish Jonathan had been successful,” Steve said dryly, “and the whole mess with Scoops would have been avoided.”

“Yeah,” Will said dourly. “Hop is still mad at her for the whole assault thing. Eddie was taking care of you and yes, she might have not have known who it was at the time, but the fact that you could come and go as you pleased, you were able to spend the money on whatever you wanted, and were really happy... like she should have let it go.”

They went to go find Mike and Dustin. It wasn’t long to find them, they were chatting away with Brian and Gareth.

Brian threw his arms out and cried. “Stevie! The man of the hour! Eddie was excited when you agreed to come out to this.”

Steve smiled at the bassist. “Like I could ever turn down a chance to see you guys play live. I did like the music when I heard it the first time.”

“Eddie told us about your musical indoctrination,” Gareth said with a huff of laughter. “You actually went out and bought heavy metal albums of your own accord, so I’ll give you that. Because I always assumed you liked us live because you liked the outfit Eddie wore.”

Steve quickly covered an ear each of Dustin and Mike and yanked them to his side. “There are children present!” he scandalized with a wry smile.

Brian and Gareth cackled as Dustin and Mike struggled to be released.

“Let me go!” Dustin huffed, pushing at Steve’s side. “I’m not a child!”

Steve let them both go laughing. “Yeah, than tell me what Gareth was referring to and maybe I’ll believe you, dweeb.”

Dustin shrugged. “Probably the same reason my likes Elvis. Young Elvis. The long legs and hips.”

Gareth and Steve shared a wide-eyed glance.

Gareth nodded appreciatively. “I can see why Robin calls you the genius child. Right in one, kiddo. How about you, Mike? You in it for the music or Eddie in tight pants?”

Mike stuttered and sputtered as he turned bright red.

“The tight pants for sure,” Brian teased, elbowing Gareth who was giggling.

“But I like girls!” Mike finally managed to spit out, his eyes wide and his fist clenched.

Dustin raised a confused eyebrow. “My ma is always talking about David Bowie and how he likes both men and women and doesn’t matter who his partner is, he’s not gay if he’s with a man or straight if he’s with a woman, he’ll always be bisexual.”

“I think I want to meet your mom, kid,” Gareth said with a low whistle. “I’d like to shake her hand. Sounds like the best mom, ever.”

Dustin blushed as he flashed a big grin.

“You can be both?” Mike whispered, suddenly shy. He ducked his head and picked at his nails.

Brian put an arm around his shoulders. “Let me introduce you to Jeff, he’s bisexual too. He’ll be able to answer all your questions.” Then he quietly led him away from the group.

“Congrats on blowing that kid’s mind,” Steve said with a huff of laughter. Gareth just grinned back.

Dustin scoffed. “I’ve known Mike liked boys since the fourth grade.”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “Well then. Still he’s about to be opened up to a world of possibilities he’s never even considered before.”

“If he’s not as big an ass he likes to pretend he is,” Dustin said rolling his eyes, “then hopefully he’ll have asked Will out by the end of the concert.”

Steve burst out laughing. “I love you optimism, bud. But I think it’s going to take Mike a little bit longer than that.” He held up his finger and thumb and pushed them really closed together.

Dustin just shrugged and then started yapping poor Gareth’s ear off on whether or not the EP Kas’s Revenge counted as their first album or not, so Steve wisely made his escape. It was that he didn’t care about that sort of thing, but it looked like it was about to get into a lot technical stuff that would go over his head.

Lucas peeled away from Brian, Mike, and Jeff and spotted Steve. “Hey, man! Thanks for this! This is cool, too!”

Steve smiled. “You’re welcome. It might be a little unfair you getting two events like this, but I with all the stars and shit here, everyone is getting their own double dose!”

“Eh,” Lucas said, cocking his head to the side, “I’m not too bothered by that.”

Steve laughed. “You are such an asshole sometimes, you know that?” he said, squeezing Lucas’s shoulder.

“Hanging out with Dustin and Mike,” he said with a shrug, “it tends to rub off on you whether you want to or not.”

“That’s true,” he murmured looking around. “Hey, I thought your sister came, too. I don’t see her.”

Lucas looked around frantically. “Shit. I don’t see here either. I thought she was right there with me talking D&D with Jeff. I didn’t even realize that she had wandered off.”

Steve stopped looking for Erica and started looking for Eddie. He knew this place better than Lucas or him. He spotted him getting a drink at the buffet table and made a beeline for him, with Lucas hot on his heels.

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve said a little panicked as he neared the rockstar. “Have you seen Erica? Little black girl, pink dress, hair in corn rows?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie said with a grin. “Come follow me.”

Steve and Lucas shared a glance but did as they were told. Eddie led them around the house to a part of the property that Steve hadn’t seen before. Out here was more like what Steve had expected when he was told Uncle Wayne lived on a ranch. There were sprawling pastures and a beautiful bright red barn, like something out of the movies.

A little distance away Steve could see Erica with Uncle Wayne feeding a carrot to a blue roan, while a spotted brown and white horse tried to steal from it.

“Erica!” Lucas breathed out and he trotted up to her. “You need to tell someone before you wander off...”

Wayne looked down at her with a glare. “I thought you told me you had told Steve where you were.”

Erica turned back slowly to Wayne, wide-eyed. “Oh, maybe it was Eddie I told. Or, um...”

Eddie put his hands on his hips. “I know for a fact you didn’t tell me, the only reason I knew where you were is because I know a horse girl when I see one.”

“Uh-huh,” Wayne said eyeing her warily. “I’ll let it slide this time, Missy, but I catch you lyin’ to me again and I’ll revoke your horse visiting privileges.”

Erica pouted. “I’m sorry, Uncle Wayne. I’ll be sure to tell people where I’m going from now on.”

Wayne nodded curtly and went back to feeding the horses. “I don’t think you’ve met my horses the last time you were here, Steve.”

Steve smiled at him. “No, sir. Wasn’t even brought up.” He cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow to emphasis his point.

“Ah,” Wayne said pursing his lips together. “I guess I was a tad remiss in my duties then. These are two of my rascals. Jadis and Fledge.”

Steve snapped his fingers as he thought. “Those are from the Chronicles of Narnia, right?”

“Eddie came by his love for fantasy naturally,” Wayne said with a smile. “But why don’t you boys head back to the party, I’ll watch this one and make sure we get to the concert just fine.”

“With the promise I get to bring her back at later date so we can both see the horses,” Steve said with a grin.

Erica looked up at Steve with unbridled glee. “Oh can we?” she asked Uncle Wayne.

“As long as your parents say you can,” Wayne said with a solemn nod, “than that’s a promise.”

As soon as the three of them got back to the party Robin came dashing up to them all bright-eyed and excited.

“Ellie is talking to the Diane Von Furstenberg,” she said breathlessly. “Can you believe that?”

Steve only knew who that was only because his mother hated her.

Eddie lit up. “I’m glad she was able to make it. She’s Chrissy’s favorite designer. I hope Ellie gets a lot of good tips from her.”

“Can I run away with you?” Robin asked in wide-eyed seriousness. “I’ll continue to PA for you, I don’t care. But you know some of the coolest people.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Turn eighteen and we’ll talk then.”

Robin jumped up and down clapping. “You coming with me.” She grabbed his arm and forced him to introduce her to some of the other greats that were there.

Chrissy came bounding up to him all smiles. “So did I win back the favor of the fair prince?”

Steve grinned. “Hell yeah you did! All of them have had their minds blown and then are going to be treated to one of the best live shows I’ve ever seen. And when I say that, that’s not hyperbole, me and my now ex-boyfriend went to a lot of concerts growing up. There is no doubt Corroded Coffin blows them out of the water.”

She grinned up at him. “Hell yeah they do.”

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @wheneverfeasible @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss @blondie1006

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @themoonagainstmers @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt @just-a-tiny-void

8- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

9- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @sadisticaltarts @steddieislife

10- @fearieshadow @kultiras @thesecondfate @tartarusknight @genderless-spoon

[dannielricciardo]

hijacking this post to remind everyone how that announcement went and the absolute insanity that was the lead up to the announcement.

in the lead up to the hiatus, fall out boy has been pronounced washed, folie was the worst album of all time, people would literally boo songs from it on the tour and at one point if i recall correctly, alex from all time low had to make a speech at one of the stops that booing your headliner is not cool and brings the vibes down monumentally (also on that tour, and i am not joking, was metro station). with this farewell, fall out boy call it a day, seemingly absolutely dejected, and embark on various solo projects like the damndest things, soul punk and a pop duo with bebe rexha (yes that one).

then patrick posts "we liked you better fat", a devastating piece on how he can never live up to who he was in fall out boy - "there’s no amount of money that makes you feel better when people think of you as a joke or a hack or a failure or ugly or stupid or morally empty.[...] I’m a touring artist and I feel I’ve become incapable of touring anymore with any act. [...] there will still be 10-20 percent of the audience there to tell me how shitty whatever it is I’m doing is and how much better the thing I used to do was. Not only that, but that 10-20 percent combined with whatever notoriety Fall Out Boy used to have prevents me from having the ability to start over from the bottom again. I can’t even go back to playing basement shows. As the saying goes: I couldn’t get booked at the opening of a letter." (source. yes, this is on tumblr. pete and patrick were on tumblr answering asks.)

brutally depressing. the public finally realizes that wait a damn minute! these people who were boo'd, ridiculed and made a joke, were actually not some paper dolls but humans with feelings. there's a public outcry of support. here's a reblog of the original post, you can scroll down and see the replies. we hear nothing after that. pete is best man at patrick's wedding. we hear nothing after that.

and then. on 25th january 2013, a then prolific bandom blog, property of zack breaks an exclusive that fall out boy reunion is imminent. that is right, the news that fall out boy is coming back appeared on tumblr first. you would not believe the pull this website used to have.

immediately, the entirety of bandom loses their minds. this is still a time when AbsolutePunk is the place to be when it comes to discussing all things pop punk.

now, if you think likes/replies on insta/tiktok/tw**ter are cool interactions with your fave, you havent been on absolutepunk, solely because this is the only forum where you could find pete wentz randomly quote replying to you in a long ass chain that would inevitably end up with you being banned for being sassy to jason tate. absolutepunk was where EVERYONE went. you found the new bands on absolute punk, you saw mark hoppus comment on a jimmy eat world review, you posted how TTTYG is the only good thing fall out boy has produced.

of course, since nothing every happens™️, absolutepunk declares that zack is pulling shit out of his ass for clicks, zack is in the comments fighting for his live saying "mf just you wait", jason tate is being iffy about it but maybe believes zack? and the general vibe is "yea. sure. reunion. that same band that keeps saying they aren't broken up. w/e man". joe denies it on tw***er almost immediately. if i recall correctly, pete also denied it on the absolutepunk thread.

two weeks later, a message appears on falloutboyrock.com (yes. the website back then was this. since as far back as i can remember):

A MESSAGE FROM PETE, PATRICK, ANDY & JOE

when we were kids the only thing that got us through most days was music. its why we started fall out boy in the first place. this isn't a reunion because we never broke up. we needed to plug back in and make some music that matters to us.

the future of fall out boy starts now.

save rock and roll...-

people were losing their minds. pop up shows sold out in minutes. i've never seen such hysterics in bandom before. you all know the rest. those 10 days between PoZ leaking and the real announcement were the longest 10 days ever. 10 years later, they are still a band. much to think about.

you can take a breath now. happy return day!

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Would It Be Weird?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: After a night of drinking, you and your friends stumble across a fire station crawling with firemen. One of them catches your eye, and your friends try their damnest to get you two together. It’s been a long time for you but maybe Dean Winchester will change all of that.

Square Filled: stranger au (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

“Bartender! One more round!” your best friend, Shelly, calls out.

Despite being busy for the night, the bartender refills more shot glasses and hands them over one by one. After the week you just had, you deserve to have a night out for celebrations. Hard work pays off, and your boss promoted you to a manager with a significant pay raise, and Shelly just got engaged. That is enough to call for a celebratory night out with friends.

“So, have you decided on a maid of honor?” you ask Shelly when she returns to the table.

“You, of course. Better do a good job or else I’m asking my sister to do it.”

“Hey, don’t insult me. You know I love planning a good party,” you grin.

“I can’t believe I’m getting married! This is so surreal! Janice, when is Parker going to ask you to marry him? You’ve been together, what, six years?”

“We’re taking it slow. We don’t mind,” she shrugs. “Don’t come at me without coming after Tina. The other day, I caught her and Ben doing it on the kitchen counter.”

“Tina!” you gasp with a smile.

“I can’t help it. We’re in the honeymoon phase.”

“You got married three years ago.”

“No kids make the honeymoon phase last forever,” she laughs.

“So we’re all in relationships except for Y/N,” Shelly smirks. “When are you going to let a man ruffle those perfect feathers?”

“Shelly,” you grit out.

“Don’t give me that look. You’re the only one out of us who isn’t in a relationship. You’ve been single for half a decade now.”

It’s true. The last relationship you were in just didn’t do it for you. You stayed with him for three years because you thought that’s what you were supposed to be doing. He wasn’t anything special. He didn’t make your heart race. He didn't make your skin hot and clammy. He didn’t make you weak in the knees. But being with him was better than being alone.

You know better now. Being single doesn’t necessarily mean you’re alone. You have a wonderful job, loving parents, funny siblings, and wonderful friends. You like being single, but there are times when you wonder if there is more for you out there than meaningless sex and hookups.

“Despite what you might think, I’m happy where I am.”

“Nope, don’t accept it. We’re going to set you up tonight. Girls, do you see potential matches?”

“Come on, don’t do this,” you sigh.

Your friends chatter amongst themselves as they seek out potential matches for you while you sit there like a bum on a log. You can’t be too mad at them. They want to see you happy. Plus, they might actually find your next love. Despite their best efforts, they don’t find anyone worth your time, but you do get free drinks by flirting with men.

By two in the morning, you and your friends stumble out of the bar in laughter. Your home is a few blocks away so you’re okay with walking back to your place even though you drove there.

“We’ll come back for my car tomorrow. Right now, all I want is pizza. I have some in my freezer,” you say.

You’re not so drunk that you can’t walk straight or you’re slurring your words but you are drunk enough not to be able to drive. Your friends, on the other hand, are more far gone than you are. Shelly is a giggle drunk, Tina is a loud drunk, and Janice is a sexual drunk. You’re a mom drunk, always trying to take care of those around you. It’s why you’re less drunk than they are. Someone has to be the responsible one.

“Let’s stop there!” Tina gasps loudly.

She points to a firehouse that has the garage doors open to let in the cool night are. Inside are about half a dozen firemen, all with big muscles and tight clothing. Your friends are already walking over to the station with you trailing behind.

“Hey, ladies. What are you doing out here at two in the morning?” one of the men asks.

“The bar just closed and we’re not done with our party,” Shelly grins. “We go every Friday night.”

“Why aren’t the firefighters in my distract as hot as you guys are?” Janice giggles.

You step into the station and immediately become sober when you lock eyes with forest green eyes. All the air is knocked out of your lungs, your body becomes warm with tingles, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. Shelly notices the look in your eyes and nudges Janice with a smirk.

“I’m Dean,” Green Eyes says.

“Y/N,” you smile back.

“What’s the party for, ladies?”

“I just got engaged,” Shelly grins and shows off her ring to them. “Y/N just got a promotion.”

“What for?” Dean asks.

“To be a manager. It’s more money and I’m in charge of a lot of employees.”

“I hope you’re a good boss.”

“A very good one,” you smile.

“Do you have any alcohol?” Tina asks.

She stumbles forward and knocks into you. You fall forward and end up in Dean’s lap. He’s leaning against one of the trucks, and he easily catches you in his strong arms. There go the butterflies again.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Don’t be. It got you in my arms,” he flirts.

You turn in his arms but he doesn’t let go of you. In fact, he wraps his arm around your chest. Shelly sees the blush on your cheeks and is mentally doing backflips at the thought of you finding your one.

“No, alcohol. Sorry.”

“Y/N, you have some. Let’s go to your place,” Janice says.

“We were heading there when you guys wanted to stop here and talk to the nice men.”

You look past your friends and notice the firefighter pole in the corner, and you gasp happily.

“You have a pole! I’ve always wanted to go down one,” you grin. “Can I?”

“Maybe when you’re not drunk,” Dean chuckles. “How are you guys getting home?”

“Walking. I live a few blocks away. We drove here but my car is going to be parked at the bar all night.”

“Let me drive you girls just make sure you make it home okay.”

“That sounds amazing. We’d love a ride,” Shelly says before you can say anything. “Can we take the firetruck?”

“Do you want to take the firetruck?” Dean asks.

You pull away slightly and look into his eyes. How are they so green? Damn, his parents must have great genes.

“Sure,” you giggle.

“Don’t let the Captain catch you,” one of Dean’s friends smirks.

“Don’t tell him and he won’t know. We’re taking the truck, ladies. Hop in.”

Your friends whoop and cheer as they climb into the truck, and Dean helps you into the front. Instead of driving them all home, he just takes them to your house. It’s a short ride but you feel more sober now than you did when you first arrived at the bar. There's something about Dean that makes you want to remember the night. You want to wake up tomorrow and remember how green his eyes are.

Your friends pile out of the truck and stumble to your front door. You toss Shelly your keys so that they can go inside while you hang back with Dean for a few minutes alone with him.

“Thank you for the ride, Dean.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

You open the door and hop out, but Dean doesn’t drive away like you thought he was going to do. Instead, he rolls down the window so he can get a better view of you walking to your house. A man who waits for you to enter your house? That’s a man you want.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he calls out.

“Bye, Dean.”

Only when he sees you walk inside does he drive off. Dean hasn’t left your mind since that night, even after a week of grueling work in the office. As a new manager, you’re expected to do more work and manage more than half a dozen employees. It’s what you signed up for, but you didn’t realize just how much of your energy it was going to cost you.

By Friday night, you and your friends went to the same club to unwind. This time, you didn't drive to the club because you don’t ever want to leave your car here again. Reports of cars being broken into came from the bar. Luckily, yours was left alone but it was enough to scare you from keeping it here again.

“So, what happened with fireman Dean?” Shelly asks with a grin. “Did you kiss him?”

“Shelly! No,” you laugh. “He just gave us a ride. That’s it. I don’t even have his number.”

“Maybe we should go back and get it for you,” Tina smirks.

“Leave the poor man alone.”

This time, you don’t drink as much as your friends because you’re kind of hoping to run into Dean again. You want to remember every interaction with him as you can, and you figure you can always drink at your house. Time flies when you’re having fun and before you know it, it’s already two in the morning. You and your friends pile out of the bar but pause when you see the shiny red fire truck waiting outside.

“Hey, ladies. Want a ride?” Dean grins.

“Dean, hi,” you smile.

The girls giggle to themselves at the starstruck look in your eyes. Thankfully, they don’t comment on it.

“Thanks for the ride, Dean,” Shelly grins.

The girls take their seats in the back while you’re still standing on the sidewalk. You take two steps toward Dean and end up tripping over your own two feet. Dean is quick with his reflexes and catches you before you faceplant onto the concrete.

“Now, if I wasn’t here, who would have caught you?”

“No one,” you blush.

“Exactly. Now I have to be here every time to catch you.”

Once you’re in the passenger seat, Dean takes off toward Shelly’s house. You give him directions to each of their houses until you’re the only one left.

“Thank you for driving us all home.”

“No problem,” he smiles.

You spot a Sharpie in one of the cup holders so you grab it and grab Dean’s right hand. You write down your number in big numbers so he can’t miss it.

“Call me next time you want to pick me up.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

You lean over and kiss Dean’s cheek before leaving the fire truck. He watches you with a slight smirk, only driving away once he knows you’re safe inside your house. This becomes a routine for you and Dean. He’s always there outside the club with the fire truck, ready to drive you and your friends home. One time, you had an Uber all set up but Dean refused to let you take it. Your friends are having a field day with this. They tease you about your new fireman boyfriend even though you and Dean aren’t dating.

Could you two be? Sure. He hasn’t asked you out nor have you asked him out, and you two have never kissed. You’re flirting, dancing around the edges of what could be. It’s enough for you right now even though it wouldn’t be so terrible to date him. It’s fun to have a sexy stranger waiting for you.

One Friday night, you’re the designated DD since you have to help your brother move tomorrow. Being the only one sober is hilarious knowing how raunchy your friends can get.

“So, when are you going to fuck him?” Shelly asks.

“It’s not like that. He’s just giving us rides.”

“I bet you’d like to ride him,” Janice giggles. Your entire face goes hot, and she laughs at the look on your face. “Look how red she is! You like him!”

“Drink your drink, okay?”

Throughout the night, all you can think about is Dean and how good he’d look on top of you or beneath you. Curse your friends and their no-filter mouths. By the time two rolls around, you’re leaving the club with your friends. Dean is standing outside near his truck like he’s always done the past few months.

“I’m the DD tonight.” You hold up your key. “No drinking for me.”

“When are you going to fuck her?” Tina asks loudly. “Because it’s been a long time for her.”

“Tina!” you hiss and look at Dean. “Sorry.”

“It’s no problem,” he smiles, “but I am driving you all home. You can call me tomorrow and I’ll drive you back here.”

“Why would you do that? It seems like a hassle.”

“It’s no problem.”

The girls hop into the back while you take the front, as per usual, and Dean starts the drive to Shelly’s house. While he’s driving, you can’t help but stare at him. He has such a great side profile. His jaw is strong and sharp, and he has a delicious amount of facial hair. Not too long but enough to feel the burn on your skin. Dean side-eyes you and smirks knowing you’re watching him.

“Want to turn the sirens on?”

“Yeah! Turn them on!”

“Can I?” you ask with a grin.

Dean shows you the button to press, and you flip the switch. The sirens go off and the lights flash rapidly, and your friends cheer and shout. Dean turns them off before someone thinks there is a real emergency. Dean stops at your house once all your friends are gone, but you don’t rush to get out.

“Thank you for driving them home. You didn't have to.”

“I wanted to. I like driving you home.”

Now that you’re sober, you can feel the tension between you two. This is going to be something you deal with another time, so you lean over and kiss his cheek like you’ve been doing.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

You get out of the truck and feel his eyes on you the whole time. Instead of going inside, you stop by your front door just staring at it. What the hell are you doing? There is obvious chemistry between you two. Are you really just going to ignore it and wait for someone else to snatch him up?

“Y/N?” Dean calls from the truck. When you don’t turn around, he gets out and lightly jogs over to you. “Hey, you okay?”

“Why did you drive me home?” You turn to face him. “Now I have to go back to the club to get my car.”

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow and drive you over there. Not in the truck, unfortunately.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“You were drinking tonight.”

“I was the DD. Why did you drive me and all my friends home?”

Dean rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Would it be weird if I told you I look forward to Friday nights knowing I get to see your smile?”

“No,” you mumble with a blush. “Would it be weird if I told you I only go to the club on Friday nights knowing you’re out there waiting for me?”

Dean steps closer to you with a smile. “No. Would it be weird if I wanted to kiss you?”

“It’d be weird if you didn’t.”

Dean pulls you into him and kisses you. It’s like how every romance author describes a first kiss. Sparks fly, euphoria flows through the veins, and you can’t ever see yourself kissing anyone else.

x

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[punksyeet]

- We Deserve Better ❥

Plot: After mistreating the members of his bloodline, Roman learns the definition of karma the hard way.

Warning: Three-way love, verbal / physical abuse, mature language, & hefty flirting!

A/N: thank you to the lovely @isabella-2025 for yet another amazing request. this was my first time including solo in a fic and i had so much fun. i hope you enjoy! 💐🫶🏼

side note: apologies for the mini writing hiatus. life hasn’t been the kindest to me lately, so i needed to take a little break. regardless, thank you all for still being here. i’m forever grateful. 🤍

—————————————————————————————————

“You nervous for tonight, cousin?” Jimmy asks, his elbows resting on his knees.

Roman looks up from velcro-ing his glove and raises an eyebrow, smirking.

“Me? Nervous?” he replies, sarcastically. “Jon c’mon.”

Jimmy shrugs in response. “I’m just askin’, uce. Cody ain’t the same dude he was last year, that’s all.”

Roman’s smile fades and he slowly stands up and walks over to Jimmy.

“What?” he asks, folding his arms across his chest. “You sayin’ I can’t handle that boy?”

“That’s not what I’m sayin’ u-“ Jimmy responds, but is cut off.

“Because last time I checked,” Roman continues, looking down and patting the WWE Universal Championship that’s sat across his waist. “We’ve been here before. And he ain’t never beat me. He ain’t never gon’ beat me. He ain’t never had this belt before. Ever. And sure as hell not for 1316 days.”

“You done?” Jimmy asks, slowly rising and sizing up Roman.

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

Jimmy has always been the only one in our faction to have the balls to stand up to Roman.

Only, it never ends well.

When Roman only responds with a nostril flare, he continues.

“I ain’t never said you can’t handle shit man,” Jimmy continues. “Hell, you said it yourself. You been holding this thing for well over 1,000 days. Everyone knows who you are and what you’re about.”

“That’s right uce,” Jey chimes in, walking over and clapping his brother on the back. “Brother didn’t mean nothin’ by it. Just chill.”

Roman takes a deep breath and tilts his head from side to side as if he’s cracking his neck.

He only does this when he’s getting frustrated, so I decide to step in.

“Roman?” I call out quietly, standing up from the sofa.

And suddenly, all eyes are drawn to me.

Roman, with an eyebrow raised.

Jimmy and Jey, with their eyes widened as if to say “what’s wrong with you?”

Solo, with his usual emotionless expression on his face.

And Sami, with those same sad and confused puppy dog eyes.

I take a deep breath before continuing.

“With all due respect,” I say, just above a whisper. “Your match is on soon, and I think it’s best if you go out there relaxed? We can always handle this later.”

Roman looks down and chews on the inside of his cheek, before turning back to his cousins.

“She’s right,” Jey agrees, breaking the awkward silence. “Let’s ju-“

“What does this have to do with you anyway?” Roman asks, folding his arms across his chest.

Oh for fucks sake!

I sigh in defeat and look down as the bickering continues.

“It’s got everything to do with me when you’re talkin’ to my twin brother like he’s a piece of garbage,” Jey responds, slowly removing his hand from Jimmy’s back. “All he was doin’ was askin’ a question.”

Roman looks down, nodding in response.

“Get out,” he suddenly says, his eyes still on the floor. “Get up out my locker room.”

“Uce, you serious?” Jimmy asks in between scoffs.

Roman looks up and makes eye contact with him once more. “Am I laughing?”

Before Jimmy can respond, Jey pats his back and encourages him to leave, himself following.

Sami and Solo follow, leaving Roman and I in the room alone.

“I can’t believe that fool,” Roman mutters to himself, sitting back down on the sofa. “Tryna make me look stupid. Me.”

I take a deep breath and fiddle with my fingers. “No disrespect Roman but, he did only ask a question.”

He stops dead in his tracks and looks up at me. “You too?”

“I don’t think there’s any harm in-“

“Get out,” he interrupts me. “You agree with him? You can leave too. I don’t need none of you.”

I sit there in disbelief. “Are y-“

“Now,” he orders, cutting me off again.

I suck my teeth, get up, leave, and slam the door behind me.

The fucking nerve to kick me out.

After everything I’ve done so that his entitled ass didn’t need to lift a finger.

Well that ends now.

As I turn the corner to Triple H’s office, I hear a voice from behind me, causing me to turn around.

“Where you headed?” Solo asks, his arms folded across his chest and body leaned up against the wall.

“To talk to Paul,” I reply, running a hand through my hair. “This whole replacement for the wiseman thing isn’t working anymore.”

He nods. “I understand.”

I raise an eyebrow and wrap my arms around myself protectively. “You do?”

He nods again. “I see how my cousin treats you. Treats all of us. We ain’t his lapdogs. We’re supposed to be his family.”

When I respond with only a sigh, he walks over and strokes either of my arms.

“Look,” he continues. “Come back to my brothers’ locker room. We all can talk there. No Roman. Just us, Sami, and the twins.”

I take a deep breath and give in, nodding and taking the short walk back with him.

“You alright?” Jey asks when I walk through the door, Solo following and closing it behind us.

I nod, my arms folded across my chest. “I will be.”

He sighs and walks over, wrapping me into his arms.

I immediately respond, placing my head on his chest.

“She was headed to go talk to Paul,” Solo begins, once we’re all sat down again. “Luckily I stopped her a couple feet away from his office.”

Jimmy tilts his head in response. “Triple H? Why?”

I look down and fiddle with my fingers once more. “It’s been two months of taking Roman’s shit. Two whole months. And I know it sounds cliché but…”

My voice trails off and I take a deep breath before continuing.

“…I guess one can only take so much.”

** Two Months Earlier **

I take a deep breath and adjust my dress before knocking on the cold metal door in front of me.

Why are you nervous to knock on a door? you may be asking.

Well, this isn’t just any door.

It’s the door to a locker room.

A locker room that belongs to the current most dominant faction in professional wrestling: The Bloodline.

Led by the most intimidating man to ever hit planet earth: Roman Reigns.

“I wanna thank you again for accepting this job,” Triple H says, placing a fatherly hand on my back. “It’ll take some getting used to, but I believe you’ve got it.”

Last Friday on Smackdown, Paul Heyman and The Rock got into it in kayfabe and eventually, it got physical.

Only, the Wiseman was actually harmed and is out with an injury for an estimated five months - which led HHH to looking for a replacement to keep the Bloodline story alive.

“Thank you boss,” I reply sweetly. “I’ll do my best.”

He replies with a smile and quick nod before our attention is brought back to the door, which flies open at the hands of him.

Roman Reigns.

“Roman,” Paul greets him, holding out a hand.

Roman exchanges glances at both of us before taking his hand and giving it a quick shake.

“This is Gianna,” he continues, turning to me. “The one I told you about over the phone last night? She’ll be Heyman’s replacement until his health is back where it belongs.”

I give Roman a nervous smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He nods in response.

After we pull away, there’s a moment of silence, until Paul breaks it again.

“Well,” he begins, after clearing his throat. “I’ve got some rehearsals to run before the show tonight. Producers will be around soon with your scripts and you can start working together.”

I nod in response. “Thank you again, boss.”

He responds with a smile and friendly hug before turning and walking away.

Once he’s out of sight, Roman steps aside and opens the door.

I smile sweetly and thank him before entering.

The room is huge - walls covered from top to bottom with framed pictures, championships, and even beautiful handmade leis.

As I go to take a seat on the sofa, Roman stops me.

“Not there,” he orders, placing his championship on the seat.

When I give him a look of confusion, he sighs.

“Only the wiseman sits there,” he mutters, taking a seat next to the spot. “And as much as you and Paul would like to believe it, you’re not my wiseman.”

I sigh and take a seat a bit farther away. “How about here? Are there any other imaginary reservations I should know about in this seat?”

“No,” he says, mocking my tone. “There aren’t.”

I roll my eyes and take a seat, crossing my legs.

He watches, giving me a mean mug. “You’ve got a nasty attitude, little girl.”

“More like I’m not a kiss ass,” I reply, folding my arms. “Just because your wiseman waited on you hand and foot, doesn’t mean I’m going to.”

He glares at me and stands up to leave, slamming the door behind him, leaving me all alone in the room.

This is gonna be a long five months.

** Flashback Over**

“Your feelings are completely valid Gi,” Sami replies, his elbows resting on his knees. “And you’re not alone. We’re all in the same boat here.”

“Forreal uce,” Jey agrees, clapping his back. “We gonna get through this shit together.”

I smile sweetly and thank them, allowing the faint sound of other wrestlers filming their segments out in the hallway to take over.

“Hey wait,” Solo says, breaking the comfortable silence. “I have an idea.”

We all turn to face him in unison.

“Whatchu thinkin’, uce?” Jimmy asks, clearly intrigued.

Solo nods slowly, looking up at us. “I know a way we can all teach Roman a lesson. One that he’ll never forget.”

He scans the room, looking into all of our eyes.

—————————————————————————————————

It’s about thirty minutes into the match and Roman is absolutely dominating.

As he holds Cody in a position where the middle rope is digging into this neck, the crowd erupts in boos.

“This is my company, you little bitch!” Roman yells out from above him.

Just then, four figures — Jimmy, Jey, Sami, and Solo — dressed in all black outfits and bandanas climb into the ring from behind him with chairs in hand.

Here we go.

“Who the hell?!” Michael Cole screams from the announce table.

As Roman turns around, he’s met with chairs against his ribs and back.

He immediately falls to the ground, screaming in pain.

The crowd goes absolutely insane, cheering at the sight of their soon-to-be champion having the upper hand for the first time in this match.

“Gianna, do something!” Cole calls out to me, causing me to smile.

“Oh I’ll do something alright,” I mutter to myself.

I slide into the ring and pull Cody on top of Roman by his arm, causing the crowd to go from loud to deafening.

One!

Two!

Three!

The crowd loses what’s left of their minds, as Cody redeems the championship and stands with the referee.

The boys and I slide out of the ring and walk up the ramp together, arms around each other.

On our way back to the locker room, we get equal amounts of praise and looks of confusion from other wrestlers.

Eventually, we get back.

“I’m so proud of us!” Sami cheers, clapping his hands.

“We really just did that shit,” Jimmy says in disbelief, plopping down onto the sofa.

“Props to you Sef,” Jey praises Solo, clapping him on the back. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

Everyone nods in agreement and Jimmy turns to me. “You good Gi? You haven’t said a word.”

I half smile and nod. “I’m good. Just feeling a little….out of place I guess.”

He nods understandably. “I get you. Everything happened so fast.”

I nod in agreement and Solo chimes in. “But it needed to be done. Roman needed to be humbled. And he was.”

After a bit more small talk, there’s a comfortable silence as all of us try to process what happened tonight.

“Well,” I begin, breaking it and standing up. “I’m gonna head home. I’m beat.”

The boys chuckle in response.

“Wanna ride with us?” Jimmy asks, nodding towards Jey. “Just in case?”

I shake my head, grabbing my belongings from one of the cubbies on the wall. “I’ll be alright. You guys just get back safe, okay?”

“We will,” Jey chimes in, standing up.

We share a hug and I do the same with the rest of the guys before heading out.

As I make it about halfway through the parking lot, I hear the deep sound of a throat clear.

Oh no.

I freeze and slowly turn around, brought with the sight of Roman.

His arms are folded across his broad chest, his dark curls are pulled into a messy bun, and smoke is basically pouring out of his ears.

Let’s just say that if looks could kill, I’d be dead on the concrete.

“Wanna tell me what the fuck that was back there?” he asks, nodding back towards the arena.

I take a deep breath and clutch the strap of my bag tighter. “What’s the matter, Ro? Your ego still too big to realize that it’s exactly what the fuck you deserved?”

He does that head tilt thing again before taking a couple steps closer to me. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, little girl, but I’d suggest you pipe down.”

“Or what?” I challenge him. “You gonna degrade me? You gonna shit talk me? Go ahead, my Tribal Chief. It’s nothing I’m not used to coming from you.”

When he responds with just a deep breath, I continue.

“Good comeback. Have the night you deserve.”

As I turn to walk the rest of the way to my car, he grabs my wrist.

“You’re not getting away with the shit you and those assholes pulled tonight,” he mutters, his voice deep and angry.

I attempt to pull my arm back, but miserably fail, as his biceps are damn near the size of my head.

“Get the fuck off of me!” I scream, attempting and failing again.

Just as he goes to respond, four figures run up from behind him and tackle him to the ground.

“Get her home,” Jimmy orders Solo and Jey, nodding towards me. “We got this fool.”

“You sure y’all gon’ be alright?” Jey asks, as Solo wraps a protective arm around me.

“We’ll be fine,” Sami reassures him, as Jimmy goes back to attacking Roman.

Jey nods and walks with us. “C’mon, baby. Everything is gonna be alright.”

—————————————————————————————————

“Ow!” I whine as Solo dabs the bruise on my wrist with healing ointment.

“Sorry love,” he replies softly, as his brother comforts me by rubbing my back.

“What’s up with you two and the sudden pet names?” I ask, looking up at Jey.

He freezes and looks at Solo, who looks right back at him.

“Just a habit,” Solo replies, looking back down at my wrist and continuing what he was doing.

I nod, softly smiling to myself.

Suddenly, Jey gets up and disappears into the bathroom.

“Alright mama,” Solo begins again, closing the cap to the tube of ointment. “You’re all cleaned up.”

I give him a grateful smile and hug. “Thank you, So.”

He immediately hugs back and even kisses my temple.

Just as we pull away, Jey appears in the doorway. “Come, baby. You got a hot bath in here waiting for you.”

I smile and head over to Jey, who holds my lower back and leads me inside.

“You gon’ be alright in here?” he asks, about to head out.

I nod and peel off my hoodie. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

He nods, watches me for a moment, and closes the door.

—————————————————————————————————

“Thank you guys for taking care of me,” I say, as Jey and Solo step outside my hotel room door and into the hallway.

They turn around in unison.

“Anytime Gi,” Solo replies, a light smile on his face.

“What brother said,” Jey agrees. “You know we gotta keep our girl protected.”

I blush and smile softly. “Thank Jim and Sami for me, okay?”

As the elevator door opens, they nod.

“We will!” Jey calls out, as they both step in.

I smile, watch the elevator shut, and step back inside my room.

A couple minutes later, as I’m un-making my bed, I hear a knock at the door.

I raise an eyebrow and head over to open it.

Before I can say a word, Jey’s lips are on mine, his hands cupping my face.

I sit there for a moment, trying to process what’s happening, before slowly trailing my hands around his neck and kissing back.

When he finally pulls away, he’s panting.

“W-what was that for?” I ask, still in complete shock.

He chuckles, stepping aside and revealing Solo behind him.

“We forgot something,” Solo replies, coming closer to me and taking either of my hands.

When I give him a confused look, he smiles.

“We love you, baby.”

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[drysdalesworld]

PHASE TWO — always trust the match maker (jamie’s version)

part one

pairing: jamie drysdale x reader

genre: fluff (lots of it tbh)

word count: 4.8k+

warning(s): trev getting too smug about being cupid, georgie being (*forcefully*) dragged into trevor’s ideas, reader cannot skate in this part so if you can please just pretend 🙏, meddling trev, confessions of love (FINALLY JESUS), mentions of parties + alcohol, & a teeny tiny makeout sesh (BOOMSHAKALAKA)

note: decided to replace the gifs with pictures bc they seem more aesthetically pleasing to my eyes & are a little summary as to what will/may be in the fic <3 brittany is an oc that i made up for the plot who is mason mctavish’s girlfriend. also, thinking of doing a bonus chapter/part 3 inspired by “meet the parents” but idk 🤷‍♀️ let me know if you’d like that! (or i could do a poll for it) sorry that the ending is a little rushed, i was just so excited to get it out <3

“You know she can’t skate, right?”.

If looks could kill, Trevor Zegras would be six feet under at the moment.

Georgie didn’t understand the man’s fascination with getting her roommate and his teammate together. She could see the attraction they shared but would rather not meddle with it. Trevor and his want of being involved in everything is really shining through in this current moment.

“That’s perfect! Jamie’ll be right there to swoop in and save her from falling. See? My plan is perfect, Gigi!” Trevor exclaimed, eyes shining with excitement and anticipation.

His current plan for ‘phase two’ of his plan to get you and Jamie together included the family skating event that the Anaheim Ducks were hosting later in the week and since neither Jamie nor Trevor had family in California, it was a perfect idea to recruit you and your roommate as their plus ones for the night. He’d pair himself up with Georgie while Jamie was paired with you. It was perfect in his eyes. Nothing could go wrong and that night would be the night where everything fell into place and the both of you would finally get together after bearing witness to the mutual pining and obliviousness.

“Y’know this isn’t a rom-com movie, right?” Georgie scoffed out, eyes rolling and head shaking as she did so.

“I’m well aware thank you,” Trevor sassed, copying the actions of the woman in front of him. “You have nothing to worry about. She’ll be in great hands. Jamie won’t let her fall or anything”.

The woman across from him only hummed and crossed her arms over her chest, not fully believing in the blue eyed man. Whatever he’s planning, she thought, better be good. Poor girl deserves a break.

———

“You know I can’t skate, right?”.

The question seemed to hit Trevor in the face, eye nearly twitching in agitation.

“Yes. I’ve been made aware of that”.

“So why do you want me to go to your family skate so bad?”.

The blue eyed man nearly wanted to rip the ends of his hair out in frustration. Why couldn’t you just say yes without any questions? It was a simple question that required a simple answer.

“You can practice your skating skills! Everyone should at least learn how to skate one time in their life. Plus, neither Jamie or I have family in California and it’d be nice for you and Georgie to tag along,” he replied, internally on his hands and knees begging as he asked you.

“I’ll fall,” you retorted, arms crossed against your chest.

“Jamie or I will be there to catch you. Hell, if you want Mason to do it, I’ll make sure he will. Just…please come”.

Trevor’s words only caused you to sigh out, nerves already bunching in your stomach at the thought of stepping on the ice. It’s not that you haven’t skated before. It’s just that it’s been years since you have and even then, it was only your third time ever skating. You didn’t want to make yourself look like a fool and fall straight on your face.

“Promise?” You asked.

“Promise,” Trevor nodded.

“Don’t make me regret trusting you, Zegras”.

“I’d never. Scouts honor!”.

You had a feeling that you were going to regret agreeing to skating with Trevor. And you’d be proven right exactly four days after this interaction.

———

“If I slip and die, I’m going to haunt your ass!” You shrieked, hands out in front of you as you wobbled on the sleek ice, trying to balance yourself.

The force of laughter that left Jamie’s lips nearly knocked the both of you over, skates slipping back and forth on the ice as you tried to balance yourself once more.

You don’t know how you were in your right mind when you agreed to Trevor’s family skate idea. You immediately regretted it the minute you stepped onto the ice and nearly face planted. He had managed to catch you last minute, hauling you up as he laughed at your state, declaring you ‘Bambi on ice’.

You had been handed off to Jamie when Trevor decided to help Georgie, even though she had a lengthy history of skating and could manage on her own. He practically dragged you over to the Canadian before lightly shoving you into his frame, clinging onto Jamie’s outstretched arms as you cursed the Zegras boy out.

“You’re doing great so far! Just focus on what’s in front of you,” Jamie replied, the sweetest smile on his face as he continued to grasp your hands in his own. You were surprised he could still feel his hands from how tight you were gripping them. “It’s always hard the first couple of minutes on the ice. But it gets better as time goes on”.

“Says the professional skater”.

He grinned at your statement, eyes never straying from yours as he did so. You did have a point. Jamie had has ample time to refine his skating skills whereas you barely even touched the ice growing up.

“Okay, you got me there. But trust me. The more time you spend on the ice today, the easier it will be next time,” he added, eyes quickly darting behind him to make sure no one was behind him as he continued to skate backwards.

“Next time? Oh no! No. There will not be a next time! This is the only time I will be stepping on the ice,” you retorted, shaking your head.

Jamie only shook his head in response, grin still plastered on his face as the both of you continued to glide across the ice.

“It won’t be if Trevor has anything to do with it. Now, you’re doing great! Just keep bending your legs,” he replied, hands tightening their grip on yours ever so slightly.

A scoff was the only response to escape your lips as you continued to focus on skating properly, desperate to not fall on your face.

———

“So, how was it?”.

Hours had passed and you were all skated out, Jamie practically carrying you off the ice as you complained about how much your feet hurt.

A glare was shot in Trevor’s direction. His usual, stupid grin on his face as he plopped himself right next to you as Jamie untied your skates for you. (You had protested much on the fact. But he insisted on untying your laces for you. You could not refuse him after he practically pouted at you to let him.)

“I’m killing you when we get home,” you replied, massaging your foot once it was free from the tortuous confinement of the ice skate. “I can’t feel my feet, Trev!”.

“She did pretty good. Better than I expected,” Jamie commented, gently placing the other foot onto his thigh, fingers deftly untying the laces.

You let out a gasp of shock, gently nudging Jamie’s forehead as you pouted, “You have no faith in me at all!”.

The onyx haired man only chuckled at your response, shaking his head a little to fix his locks as he continued to aid you in getting out of your skates.

“From what I could see, you did well, babe” Georgie piqued, skates already off and tennis shoes on her feet. Her piercing eyes glared at Trevor for a second before returning to you, softening a bit.

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her, a gentle smile on your face.

“All right,” Jamie murmured, softly taking your foot out of the unlaced skate and placing it on the ground underneath him. “You’re all ready to go!”.

“Thanks, Jimmy!” You spoke, stretching out that foot as you wiggled your toes and tried to relieve yourself of the soreness.

Trevor shot Georgie a look, something that neither you or Jamie noticed. The man wiggled his eyebrows a bit, earning an eye roll and a smack to the shoulder from the woman in front of him.

“McTavish is having a little get together later tonight if y’all are interested in joining,” Georgie commented, very discreetly kicking Trevor’s shin, earning a yelp from him.

“Oh, right! Something about starting the new season off with a bang or whatever,” the brunet added, rubbing his shin. That’ll definitely bruise.

“We should definitely go!” He continued, trying to gauge you and Jamie’s separate reactions to the suggestion.

You looked a little unsure, sparing a quick glance to Jamie as he absorbed the information given to him. Parties were never your thing to begin with. But it always managed to be fun if a certain Ducks player attended.

Jamie shrugged, hand still loosely holding onto your ankle, “Sure!”.

You nodded in response, a smile gracing your features as you looked at Georgie in confirmation.

“Great!” She exclaimed, hands clapping together as she ushered you up, ankle now becoming cold as Jamie’s hand slipped from it. “Us girls will get ready while you two do whatever. Just don’t forget (Y/N)’s drinks this time”.

Georgie shot a hard look at Trevor when she finished her commentary, glaring at him once more before she handed you your shoes and turned your back towards the two boys.

The blue eyed man only rolled his eyes and scoffed, arms crossing over his chest.

“She’s right. Don’t forget it,” Jamie added, including his, in Trevor’s opinion, unwanted input.

“I won’t, lover boy,” Trevor scoffed, ruffling his friends hair before getting up himself, phase two already beginning to circle in his brain.

———

The ‘little get together’ Mason was throwing was, in fact, not little.

If you had to guess, you would say there were at least thirty people squished in Mason’s apartment. Every person there either seemed to be a player or a friend of a friend. You didn’t recognize most unfortunately.

People were bumping into one another as they mingled their way through the crowd to get somewhere else or greet another friend. It was overwhelming to say the least. And it didn’t help that once you stepped through the door, Georgie excused herself to go to the bathroom and left you by the overflowing coat rack Mason had stationed by the entrance to his apartment.

You were close to turning around and leaving the party when you heard someone shout your name—Trevor.

“And where do you think you’re going, missy?” He asked, two alcoholic beverages in hand. “You’ve barely been here thirty seconds and you already want to leave,” Trevor continued, tsking at you.

“This isn’t a little get together, Z,” you shouted, the music and loud talking in the small space making it hard to hear what Trevor was saying.

Trevor sheepishly shrugged. “It was!” He exclaimed, “But then Brittany wanted to bring some of her friends and then they wanted to bring some of their friends…”.

You only shook your head, snatching the familiar labeled beverage in his hand and cracking it open before he finished his sentence.

“But hey, Jamie’s here!” He excitedly shouted, a wide smile spreading on his lips. “He’s back in Mason’s room! I left him there to get you since Georgie texted me that you guys were here”.

A small blush crept onto your cheeks at the mention of the defenseman, warming up your face. Trevor had taken that reaction as a sign to grab your free hand and drag you to Mason’s room, squeezing his way through the numerous bodies littered across the room.

“It should be more peaceful in there,” Trevor commented, turning his head a little bit so you could hear him. He knew how you got with large enough crowds and had personally asked Mason if you could stay in there for a majority of the time so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed. (Not that getting you into Mason’s room with Jamie was a part of his plan, of course not!)

Once you had reached the pearl white wooden door, Trevor had quickly ushered you in before closing the door behind himself, trying extremely hard to keep a straight face so as to not blow his cover.

Jamie was seated on Mason’s bed, elbows on knees as he was scrolling through whatever app he had on his phone. His dark hair had fallen forward due to the position, causing Jamie to have to push back the strands to get a good look at whoever walked into the room.

A smile broke onto his lips once he saw that it was you. “Hey,” he spoke, turning off his phone and throwing it to the left of him, the device making contact with the soft pillows.

“(Y/N/N) here tried to run. But, I caught her in time before she could make an escape. You’re welcome,” Trevor praised himself, giving a little bow to Jamie and you.

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your beverage. “Oh, why, thank you so much, Trev!”.

Only a wide grin was Trevor’s response to your quip, teeth on full display as his blue eyes twinkled with an all too familiar look.

But before you could question what he was up to, a loud knock came from behind Mason’s bedroom door, catching the attention of all three of you in the room.

The door opened to reveal Lukáš Dostál, one of the Ducks goalies. He had a sheepish smile on his face as he called out to Trevor, telling him that Mason needed him real quick before slowly backing away from the door frame to allow space for the center player to get through.

“Alright,” Trevor spoke, clapping his hands together, or at least as much as he could with his beer in hand. “I must depart. So, I’ll leave you two alone. Don’t miss me too much now”.

A fake laugh escaped your lips as the boy exited the room, the loud slam and click of the door echoing throughout the room. Trevor shot you a small wink just before he completely disappeared behind the door.

“He’s up to something,” Jamie commented, eyes squinted at the door, gaze lingering on the general area Trevor stood just moments prior.

“I was about to say the same thing, Drysdale” you murmured, non dominant hand on hip as your dominant one still held your cool beverage.

“You’d think we’d have a sixth sense for this,” he chuckled, fingers raking through his dark hair. “With all the shit he pulls, you’d think we’d be better at recognizing when he’s up to something”.

You smiled at his comment, nodding with what he was saying as you took a sip of your drink. Trying to pinpoint what exactly Trevor was up to was always a hard feat—something that you hadn’t quite mastered yet even after all these years of knowing him.

“He’s sneaky. Too much for his own good sometimes,” you spoke, flopping onto Mason’s bed, cup already emptied and discarded somewhere amongst the room.

Jamie only hummed in response as he felt your weight dip the mattress, the force of it nearly forcing him backwards, his left hand going behind him in order to stop himself from crushing you.

From his position, Jamie could see every faint freckle on your face and every birthmark that painted your skin. You were wearing a black baby tee that had two pink magic eight balls positioned as cherries, tied by a ribbon on the very front. The necklace that held your first initial laid in the middle of your chest, moving up and down with each breath you took. The jeans you were wearing hugged your figure perfectly. Your eyelids were gently closed and from time to time, he could see your eyes move underneath the lids. Your hair splayed around your head like a halo, shining in the overhead light. To Jamie, you looked like an angel sent from above—so pretty and kind and captivating. He couldn’t believe he had met you when he did. He felt so blessed to get the privilege to be in your life, in whatever way you deemed appropriate.

“Trevor’s special. In more ways than one,” Jamie chuckled.

His comment made you laugh, your head thrown back against the sheet as your legs lifted up to your chest as they kicked instinctually from laughter.

Your reaction made Jamie smile and blush, blood rushing up his neck to his cheeks, dusting his face a light pink color.

“I’m surprised we’re still friends with him,” you wheezed out. “With all the shit he’s pulled, he should’ve been blocked a long time ago”.

Jamie chuckled and nodded in response.

His heart was beating extremely fast, something it did regularly when Jamie was in your presence. He also had a hard time breathing too, but who wouldn’t?

A comfortable silence had settled between you two. You still laid down on Mason’s bed, eyes delicately closed and breathing steady as you tried not to fall asleep on the comfortable mattress.

The loud chatter of those outside Mason’s bedroom was only an afterthought as the two of you continued to bask in the comfortable silence. The domesticity of it all made Jamie’s heart lurch and his mind race. It wasn’t an entirely domestic scene, but it was enough for him. You are always enough for him.

The man wasn’t going to lie about how he knew about Trevor’s “masterful plan”. He had figured it out quickly after he heard his roommate mumble to himself about how his plan failed after that one party at their shared apartment. Confiding in Georgie only proved Jamie’s suspicions right—the redhead practically spilling every thought and plan Trevor had come up with in an attempt to get the two of you together. Jamie had nearly died at Georgie’s confession. That was the only confirmation he needed to pull up his bootstraps and finally work up the courage to confess to you. And, of course, Jamie knew of Trevor’s idea of throwing you two in a room together in hopes of the two of you getting together.

“(Y/N)?”.

So, here goes nothing.

“Can I tell you something?”.

That question piqued your interest.

You opened your eyes and sat up, faces inches away from Jamie’s face as his eyes never left yours. Your cheeks burned pink from the proximity and you found yourself cursing at your low tolerance for alcohol. Another reason why you much preferred the colorful, fruity drinks many alcohol brand names created. You didn’t need much to feel the effects.

“Yeah. What’s up?” You asked, shifting yourself a bit so all of your weight wasn’t put onto your arms, leaning a little forward.

Jamie’s mouth suddenly went dry, the words caught in his throat as his brain tried to scramble for something—anything to say.

“Should I have not said that about Trev?” You wearily asked, worried he took what you said about his best friend to heart. “Because I didn’t mean that! He’s a cool guy, really! Can be a bit annoying, but I’d never block him. Unless he did, like, something incredibly stupid like—”.

“No.” Jamie simply stated, it coming out more as a croak than a word. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“No. It’s not about that. I honestly agree with everything you said”.

That granted Jamie a smile of yours that he so desperately loved seeing on you. He copied your smile, licking his lips before then.

“It’s just—Damn. I didn’t think it’d be this hard,” he whispered, head slightly shaking as his eyes darted from place to place, nerves tingling throughout his entire body.

“What? That what would be hard, J?” You softly ask, hand coming up to gently grip his bicep in a comforting grasp.

The skin you touched felt like it was on fire to Jamie. Every time you touched him, sparks erupted underneath his skin. It always felt nice. Like it was supposed to happen. Like you were supposed to be touching him.

“I’ve thought day and night about this nearly every day since I met you. Do you remember that? Trev was so excited to introduce you. He was practically buzzing off the walls with excitement,” Jamie begins, his own hand gravitating towards yours that still grasped his bicep, gently wrapping around your wrist.

You giggled at the memory. Trevor had been excited to introduce the two of you. He was dead set on Jamie being the one to rid you of your relationship disappointments. The man had commented many times how his friend and roommate Jamie could be your one. You very much doubted that statement. You had given up at that point. But the second you locked eyes with Jamie Drysdale, all bets went out the window. He was so sweet and so gentle in speaking with you and shaking your hand. You were sure if angels walked the Earth, Jamie was one of them. That night, after leaving the café Trevor brought you to, you had realized that the center hockey player was right about Jamie being the change for you. But you still had doubted that something as kind, as beautiful as Jamie would fall for someone like you.

“Trevor wouldn’t stop talking my ear off about all your little quirks,” you commented. “He told me about your sleep talking and how you always watch the Mighty Ducks series whenever you don’t feel well”.

“Of course he did,” Jamie snorted. “What didn’t he tell you.”

You only smiled in response as you waited for Jamie to continue whatever he was saying beforehand. The butterflies in your stomach swarming and hurriedly batting their wings. You weren’t sure what Jamie was trying to say. You just hoped that he wasn’t going to abruptly end the friendship you two had.

“Trevor had mentioned some things here and there about you. Honestly, I wasn’t sure who I was going to meet that day from how little he mentioned you. He refused to tell me anything and insisted that I actually talk to you to find out more about you. Which, I guess, I should thank him for because then I probably wouldn’t have connected with you the way I did.”.

“It’s forever sketched into my brain—that day. I remember how cold it was that morning and how you walked in with only jeans and a jacket on while I had too many layers on to count. I think my lungs stopped working the minute you walked through the café doors and we locked eyes. I nearly spilled my drink.”.

You both chuckled at that. You had a feeling of where this conversation was going to go and your brain nearly started to overheat from how hard you were thinking and trying not to just blurt out how you felt to him. You never got those long confessions from those you were interested in. And since you were now getting that, you didn’t want to interrupt and ruin the moment. So, you stayed quiet and silently urged Jamie to continue.

“I know it’s cliché to say, but I’m pretty sure I loved you the moment I saw you. Everything about you intrigued me. Everything about you was so enchanting and I couldn’t stop myself from being greedy and wanting to get to know you better. I don’t even think Trevor spoke to us once during the entire three hours we were there. It was hard having to leave and part ways. I wanted to spend more time with you.”.

“I called my Mom later that night and told her everything. She laughed at me and told me that something similar happened to her and my Dad. That I should keep you as close as I could. I’m pretty sure even she could tell that I was already taken aback by you. It was that night that I knew no one else could compare. I mean, it took you, what, five seconds to break me out of my shell and have me talking the entire morning. You were special for some reason and you’re something that I cannot imagine letting go.”.

“So, I guess what I am trying to say is, I think—No. I know that I’m in love with you. And I have been since Trevor uttered your name,” he finished.

Unshed tears gathered in your waterline, threatening to spill over as you took in what the man you had held so close to your heart for so long just confessed.

Jamie too had small tears gather at the corner of his eyes. His heart pounded against his chest as he tried to slow his breathing down. He poured his heart and soul out to you and he only hoped that you matched his feelings back.

“Oh, Jamie,” you whispered, voice full of emotion. “I too have loved you since the moment we met. I think I had a harder time coming to terms with it. I had some rocky relationships in the past that made me feel inadequate for love. For the longest time I thought I was only made for half assed love and the kind of love that made me feel empty when it was over. But, meeting you has changed everything. Meeting you has rewired my brain in so many ways that I can’t begin to tell you the impact you’ve had on me. Just you alone have made me believe all over again. You make love seem not as scary as I thought”.

By the time you reached the end of your sentence, Jamie had tears running down his pale cheeks. He knew of your less than satisfactory relationships and hoped that one day, he could change your mind. He didn’t think he’d actually achieve it as just your friend. He only hoped that he’d be able to do more as your partner.

Silence fell over the two of you again as you both sat there in a warm touchless embrace. Jamie’s hand still gripping yours. Eventually, he moved your hand from his bicep up to his lips, delicately kissing it before placing it on his cheek as he leaned into the soft flesh of your palm.

“I feel like that was really cheesy, no?” He whispered, a giggle falling from his lips.

You could only giggle and nod in response, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

Your eyes met, both wet from the tears shedded. An unspoken question (Can I kiss you?) was asked between the two of you, a simple shake of your heads was the only confirmation you needed before leaning in and pressing your lips together.

Jamie’s lips were so, so soft that it made you want to cry all over again. His cologne was more pungent now that you were lip locked. The smell made you feel dizzy, your closed eyes not helping the slight vertigo sensation you felt. His unoccupied hand went to your cheek to pull you even closer, the need to become one ever so present in the air.

Your other hand went up to his soft locks, desperately tugging at the ends, making Jamie shudder at the feeling. You tried to get closer to the man, but the position the two of you were in was not ideal.

But, before you could pull away and climb into Jamie’s lap, the door to Mason’s bedroom slammed open, scaring the two of you away from each other.

“Holy shit! Yes!” A voice shouted, the owner jumping up and down as they squealed and shrieked in excitement.

“Trevor, what the fuck?!” You screamed, now lying on the bed sideways from the scare you received.

“I did it! I finally did it! You guys kissed! I am the ultimate matchmaker, bitches!” He continued, ignoring the glares he was getting from the two of you.

As Trevor began to dance in celebration in front of Jamie and you, you peeked a look at the man you just kissed only to see him smirking as he gazed at you.

But, the only thing you could do was shake your head and urge yourself forward, locking Jamie into another kiss.

“Ew! Hey, I’m right here! Just because you’re together now does not mean I consent to seeing you two eat each other’s faces,” Trevor exclaimed, a small smile on his face as he teasingly tsked at the two of you.

The only response to his comment was your middle finger as he slipped through the door again, careful to lock the door as to leave the two of you some peace and privacy.

———

( “So, did they do it?” Mason asked, feet propped up against the small table placed in front of his couch.

The Ducks player had originally been against Trevor’s “plan” but had ultimately agreed when he got sick and tired of Jamie moping around like a lost puppy after someone mentioned your name.

The smirk on Trevor’s face said it all.

“Good, hopefully he’ll stop looking like a lovesick fool every time someone mentions her,” he added, sipping his beer. “But you owe me big time, Zegras! I just don’t let anyone use my bedroom for their matchmaking plans”.

Trevor only saluted his teammate, uttering a sir yes sir! before practically skipping his way to Georgie to spill the beans.

Mason shook his head as he watched Trevor go, thinking about how much of a clean day tomorrow will be, headache already forming at the thought. )

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Had an idea. Wrote a thing. Enjoy 🩶

*****

He walked away across the sand before stopping and turning to face Tommy. “Because I’m in love with you!” He yelled out. “And don’t even think about telling me I’m wrong about how I feel.” He turned again to face the ocean as he continued, not letting Tommy have the chance to reply. It was finally his chance to let out everything he was feeling since Tommy had broken up with him. “God, ya know I am sick of everybody telling me how I feel or what I want or what to do as if I’m not a god damn fucking grown man! Just once i would like someone to actually trust that I know how I feel and that I know what I want.” His chest was heaving as he walked back towards Tommy stopping a few feet away looking him directly in the eyes. “Because I do.”

Tommy’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed before speaking. “And what is it you want?”

“You, Tommy.” He replied immediately. “It’s always been you—it will always be you. And-and despite what you’ve convinced yourself, you are my last. Even if you don’t believe it. Even if-if I ended up married to someone else and have found some semblance of happiness—you will still be my last. I will never live a happier life than the one I could live with you. You were not some shiny new toy after I discovered my sexuality. Or-or some exciting right of passage along a journey of self discovery. You’re the love of my life, Tommy. And you may not have the courage to believe it but I have the courage to say it. Even if it changes nothing. Even if you decide to walk away again. Because I’m right. And deep down you know I’m right, too.”

Finally Buck left some space in the air around them for Tommy to speak and he wasted no time.

“Of course you’re right, Evan! About all of it. About everything!” Tommy stood up from the bench and began to pace. “I’m not confused about how I feel or how you feel. I do trust you to know how you feel—it was never about that.”

“Then what is it about?!”

“I’m terrified, Evan! I am so fucking scared of losing you! I never thought in a million years that I would fall in love let alone feel like my existence on this earth depends on someone else breathing. Everything in me exists for you. Every beat of my heart, every pump of blood through my veins, every breath in my lungs exists solely for you!”

He’d kept himself together, somehow, over the last 4 months—not a single tear shed. But now, standing on a desolate beach screaming at one another, the seal broke and the tears flowed.

“If something happened to you, or us it would be the thing that breaks me, Evan. I need you to understand that. I-“

“I do understand that!” Buck interrupted. “And don’t you think I’m scared too?! You think I’ve ever felt like this about anybody before? Tommy, every single person I have loved has left me at some point. Including you. And yet here I am still holding on to some shred of hope that you’ll be the one person to actually fight for me.”

“I want to, I-“

Buck closed the distance between them and took Tommys hands hoping to God that he would let him. He took a deep breath to calm his voice.

“Tommy, I can’t promise you a long and happy life with me. But I can’t promise you that I wont get in a car accident on the way to work tomorrow, either. Or that my apartment building won’t burn down or that you won’t get killed on the job.. Because nobody can promise that. Nobody knows what’s gonna happen in the future. All we can do, all I can do, is promise you that I will do everything that I can do to make you happy; to make us happy.” He tilted his head up towards the sky and blinked in an attempt to dry out his eyes before looking back at Tommy.

“I love you. And-and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you that.” He released one of Tommys hands and used his knuckle to gently wipe the tears from Tommys cheeks. Tommy closed his eyes for a moment relishing in the feeling of Evan’s comfort.

“Do..” Tommy’s throat was raw from the yelling and thick with emotion. “Do you promise?” He felt embarrassed by how meek and small he sounded.

But he couldn’t fight Evan anymore. More importantly he couldn’t fight himself anymore. Evan was the love his life. He could no longer deny it. He’d likely never not feel some kind of fear that it would all blow up on his face but he had no fight in him left.

Buck squeezed his hands.

“Yes. I promise.” Buck smiled softly through wet lashes.

“I love you so fucking much.” Tommy breathed and took Bucks face in his hands, kissing him so firmly Buck was forced back a step. Buck immediately kissed back; his hands all over Tommy—face, neck, shoulders, waist, arms.. any available space on Tommy’s body he could get under his fingertips in an effort to hold him in place and having no intention of ever letting him go again.

[sirhamburrger]

BREAKING NEWS: CHART-TOPPING ARTIST YN LN PUBLICLY DISSES PXG STAR PLAYER AFTER HISTORIC VICTORY AGAINST BASTARD MÜNCHEN?!

after #JusticeForPXG starts to trend on most major social media platforms within a mere two hours, you receive an email from their manager. they… want you to perform before their match against the ubers? for a horrifying moment you’d thought your career might actually end over an offhand comment, but it seems you’ve been thrown a lifeline.

well, so much for that lifeline, because you’re pretty sure you trample all over it and set it on fire when, during your performance item three evenings later, a photo of none other than rin freaking itoshi appears on the big screen -

and the flash of a thousand cameras captures the very moment you roll your eyes in front of ten thousand people. and the whole internet.

you grimace when you step off the pitch and head back to the holding area, still panting from the exertion of the set. as the players stream out from their locker rooms, you brush against someone’s elbow, and as you turn a second later to wish the teams luck, you notice the man of the hour himself staring back at you.

and you really hate that you might care what he thinks about you.

---

“look,” aiku snickers, pointing at the screen in the locker room. “it’s your favourite bm fan.”

“it’s not even that funny.” rin tightens the laces on his cleats a little too aggressively to punctuate his sentence.

but he’s thinking: does she really hate him all that much?

“i’m pretty sure sendou dated her at some point,” karasu chimes in, rather unhelpfully.

“no way,” aiku says dismissively and more than a little seriously. “she’s waaaaay out of his league. she’d have to be blind - or really, really desperate.”

“get out of my player’s head, aiku.” julian loki pulls his jersey over his head, shooting the ex-u20 captain a withering stare. “or is it because you know you don’t stand a chance against us?”

“casse toi!” charles pipes up.

rin groans.

---

pxg wins that evening. you can’t even say you’re surprised - you knew, somehow, that it would turn out like this.

and here’s how the rest of it goes:

you tell yourself you’re going to leave the stadium quietly. slip out before anyone can get another picture of you, before the internet takes your face and pastes it onto another meme.

but fate has a funny way of playing games with you, because when you round the corner leading to the underground parking lot, you walk right into him.

rin itoshi.

you freeze, half because of the collision, half because - well, you’ve never actually been this close to him before. he’s taller than you expected. his hair is damp from the showers, and his stare is impassive, unreadable.

you expect him to be mad, or annoyed, or at the very least, indifferent enough to walk right past you. but instead, he speaks.

"you don’t like me."

it’s not a question.

you could lie, smooth things over, but that would be too easy. and honestly, you’re still annoyed - at the internet, at this whole situation, at the fact that he looks this good after running across a pitch for ninety minutes.

"what gave it away?" you say dryly.

his brow twitches, just the slightest bit. "is it because of pxg?"

you sigh. "no, it’s because i think you’re kind of an ass."

his lips press into a thin line. you expect him to snap at you, but instead, he just studies you - like he’s trying to solve some kind of puzzle.

"fair," he says after a beat, and for some reason, that catches you off guard.

you cross your arms. "that’s it? no defense? no ‘you don’t even know me’ speech?"

"if you think i’m an ass, i probably was." he shrugs, looking away for a second before flicking his gaze back to you. there’s something almost amused in his expression now. "but you still came to perform."

you roll your eyes. "only because your manager begged me to."

"right. had nothing to do with me."

"nothing at all."

he hums, as if he doesn’t quite believe you. as if he can see the way your resolve wavers, just a little, under the weight of his attention.

and you hate that he might be right.

he shifts then, stepping aside, giving you space to leave. but before you do, he says, almost offhandedly, "i don’t hate you, you know."

something about the way he says it makes your stomach flip. or maybe it's the compression shirt. (yeah, it's probably just the compression shirt.)

---

© sirhamburrger 2025

[blondphobic]

I keep seeing people saying they don't like rafayel because he’s unreliable, “he’s a merman, he’s putting a façade to deceive mc and is rude to anybody else, he condemned his people yada yada” and others surface level half assed reading of his character and man I’m tired.

to the moment we first met him (first first met him, in the forgotten sea myth) rafayel is portrait as not sharing the same disdain for humans as the majority of the lemurians, he calms the storm so the ship mc was in doesn’t sink and saves her from drowning (yes, he fucks with her a little but the intention was to save her), they only met because he snuck out and went where he isn’t suppose to be.

forgotten sea rafayel is playful, carefree and a little naive, he not really fathom the extent of his powers as the sea god until the moment of the coming-of-age ceremony and even then he challenged the deep sea. he didn’t choose mc over lemuria, he lied to save both of them.

the rafayel we meet at the sea of golden sand, the one who seems to have assumed his position as a lemurian leader (kinda) and is in fact trying to retrieve the heart by deceive mc is the most “sober” version of his character, he acts like people expect him to act like a sea god but can’t help but falling in love with mc again and again tries to save both her and his people by erasing her memories and trying to rewrite the tome of the sea god.

rafayel cares deeply about the lemurians, he has a fucking bounty on his head for going after people who are involved with ever and their experiments on merfolks, before we met him on the main story he already gave up on us (think of that one scene where talia ask him if he thinks about his marriage and he just answers ‘no’), he’s focused on protecting the remain lemurians, it’s only when mc goes after him at his studio that he decides to come with the bodyguard thing so he can be closer to her.

he’s stuck in this eternal conflict between his obligations with his people and his love for mc, the man (merman?) he believes lemurians want him to be, who’s a leader and makes sacrifices vs. the man who comes to the surface when he’s with mc, who can be carefree and even vulnerable, who plays in the rain and dances around in puddles with her, who gets excited about things that look insignificant to most of people and is passionate about everything he does.

I keep seeing fans saying that “rafayel is for the girlies who need to heal their inner child” and I think it goes both ways, rafayel is his most sincere version when he’s with mc and that’s scary for him, in his cards he seems to be always fighting for control but never with mc, he’s fighting himself.

rafayel loves us but he’ll give up on his happiness over and over again if he thinks that is the best for mc, he’s very skeptical for someone who is a literal god and deep down I think the only thing he truly believes is that mc will always find her way back to him.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Praises

Five times Emmrich praised Agi, and one time she praised him. One section is NSFW but the rest is SFW.

“Clever girl.” Emmrich murmured as Agnes solved a statue puzzle that unlocked the gate to a massive chest in Rivain.

DID HE?!?!

She glanced over her shoulder to see the necromancer giving her a charming smile. Cheeks burning, she giggled nervously. “Who me?”

Agi.

Really?????

You said that?!?!?!

He chuckled. “Yes, you! Our own dear Rook is an expert in solving puzzles. Clever, clever girl.”

Agnes opened her mouth to speak (no idea what to say to that), but thankfully Taash interrupted.

“Three statues here. Three up there. Match. Easy.” They grunted, sorting through the loot. “Rook is smart, but a kid could’ve solved that.”

OH COME ON, TAASH!

Can the very handsome man go back to praising me please?

Eyes darting from Taash to Emmrich and back again, the mage exhaled sharply, hands on her wide hips. “Taash, I agree with most of what you said. However, a kid could solve that? I don’t think so, mate.”

Then she felt Emmrich’s gloved hand on her waist, and she thought her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

“Taash, while I greatly respect and admire your expertise in treasure hunting, I do believe that in this case praise is indeed warranted. The gold speaks for itself, hm?” He just squeezed my waist. He just did that. I’m going to die now. Goodbye world. Figure it out yourselves. “Good job, Rook.” He leaned against her ear, and Agnes could swear he was smirking when he whispered, “Clever, clever girl.”

This can’t be happening, right?

This…is this…

He’s flirting with me.

RIGHT?!

Nodding, she took the bag of gold Taash shoved at her. “Thank you so much, Emmrich. Now, let’s continue…”

***

“Ah!”

Agnes turned towards the source of the cry she heard as undead pirates attacked.

Emmrich.

He was on his back, a hand on his rapidly rising and falling chest.

Get to him.

Now.

In two fade dashes, she was at his side and tossed him a potion between spells.

Do it for him.

Kill these fuckers for Emmrich.

Will he be impressed?

Will he say…

With a snarl, she disintegrated the last undead pirate. And a flourish with my staff…don’t drop it, Agi…nailed it! “You okay, Emmrich?” she asked, expression softening as her attention returned to him. Offering a hand, Agnes helped him to his feet.

“Ugh, I’m fine. I’m fine. It only knocked the wind out of me.” He answered with an eyeroll and an annoyed wave of his gloved hand. He gently rebuffed her when she began to fuss only a little over him. “Truly, my dear---I’m fine. There’s no need to worry.”

She shook her head. “Of course I worry, Emmrich. I care about you.” OH NO. “You’re my friend.” Whew. Nice save.

Something she could not quite make out flashed in his eyes, and then he smiled politely. “As you are mine, Rook.” He began to straighten his waistcoat when he murmured, “And thank you ever so much for taking care of those undead. Good girl.”

A mangled “you’re welcome” came out of her as a squeak, face blushing bright red.

EVERY. DAMN. TIME.

***

“You did so well today, dearest.” Emmrich said as he guided Agnes towards the bed in his room. While she, Lucanis, and Emmrich defeated the Formless One (funnily enough, in the form of a dragon), she had taken several critical hits.

And the dragon may have crashed into me a few times.

Bandages covered her hands and midsection. Her right ankle was severely sprained. Cuts and bruises galore.

He took care of me. Still is taking care of me.

Because goddamn, I am sore as fuck.

She laughed softly then grimaced. Ah yes, the bruised ribs are saying hello. “I don’t know, love. I think you and Lucanis carried my ass through that fight.” Sitting up against several pillows, she watched as Emmrich elevated her wrapped ankle, enchanting it with a spell to help keep the swelling down. Then Manfred entered the room carrying a tray with a pitcher of what she assumed to be water and COOKIES!!!

He turned to Manfred and smiled. “Perfect, Manfred! Put the tray there. Thank you.” The necromancer waited for him to leave before directing his attention back to Agnes. “Is there anything else you require, my love? If you want something more substantial, I can make—”

Reaching for his bejeweled hand, she shook her head, sighing. “I love you so much but shut up and get in bed with me.”

“Oh, dearest! Of course! Of course!” He removed his boots and sat next to her. Taking one of her hands in his, he brought it to his lips. “Rest, darling.”

Leaning her head against his, she smiled softly. “Thank you.”

Emmrich nuzzled her cheek with his frankly underrated gorgeous nose. “Whatever for?”

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Ouch, my ribs. “For taking care of me. You don’t have to, Emm.”

Chuckling, his lips found hers a sweet but firm kiss. “I want to, dearest. You’re the center of my universe. My precious bouquet. My sweetheart. How could I not care for you, spoil you, tend to you, especially when you’re injured?” He gave her one more kiss and then with the wave of a hand, the plate of cookies levitated, landing on her lap. She picked up a cookie (chocolate chip my favorite) and held it to her lips, watching him watch her. “What are you waiting for, my love? Do you need—”

“What I need,” she grinned. “Is for you to kiss me.” Agnes then placed one part of the cookie in her mouth, held between her teeth, waggling her eyebrows.

“As you desire, my darling.”

I bite.

He bites.

Smooch!

***

“You really are such a good girl,” Emmrich murmured into Agnes’s ear, one hand lazily squeezing a large breast. After taking our sweet time bathing, she found herself between his long legs, her back to his front.

She laughed softly and turned her head to see him better because he’s handsome and beautiful and all mine. “Because I let you fondle me in the bath?”

In the bath.

Outside the bath.

I love it when he touches me…makes me feel wanted and loved…

He pressed a kiss on her nose. “That, and you respond so beautifully. I simply cannot get enough of you.”

“I can tell.” She smirked, his hardness twitching against her ass. “Even out and about, you’re always so, so close,” her generous backside ground against him, the movements of his hands stuttering. “And I love it, Emmrich.” She shifted, removing his hands from her, and turned to cup his handsome, beautiful face. “I can’t get enough of you either.” As she kissed him, she tugged his bottom lip. “I want to keep you nice and warm, my love. Is that alright?”

His eyes widened as Agnes gripped the base of his leaking cock. “O-oh, darling. I can never refuse you…”

Sliding onto his member, they moaned in unison with her throwing her head back in ecstasy. “You feel so fucking good. You always do.” She carded one hand through his wet, graying hair and brushed his cheek with the other. “You always make me feel good. I hope it’s the same for you, Emm.”

I never thought anyone would love me, let alone you.

But you do, and I’m forever grateful.

Emmrich’s mouth found her neck, peppering kisses on her pale skin. “My dear, you are exquisite. A wonderfully passionate and generous lover who never fails to astound me with each coupling.” Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t’ cry. “To speak plainly,” He ran his hands up and down her back, gently massaging and rubbing her softness. “I’ve never been as blissfully happy as I am with you.” His lips captured hers in a sloppy, slow kiss, whispering, “My best girl, beautiful girl, give unto me your warmth, shelter me from the storm, and in return, my heart and soul, I shall give you—oh!”

Emm, I love you so much…

Agnes took his face in her hands and hungrily kissed him.

BUT SHUT UP AND KISS ME!

Please.

Your best girl demands it.

***

“Well struck, dearest!”

EMMRICH!

Agnes’s cheeks burned as her meteor landed with Neve’s ice shards and a very sexy spell from my handsome man, and he praised her.

As he does.

A lot.

And he knows what it does to me!!!!

The larger darkspawn collapsed, died, and disappeared, leaving behind some gold and a trinket of some sort. She walked to the loot and bent over.

He’s standing next to me.

I’d know those boots anywhere.

I’d know that hand on my ass anywhere?!?!?!

She bit back a giggle. “May I help you, Professor?”

And now he’s pinching my ass.

“Oh, do forgive me, dear.” He is not sorry. “It’s only that you looked so lovely just now, and I cannot resist expressing my appreciation for your considerable skills and talent.” The necromancer purred, the hand on her behind moving to her soft waist as she straightened. “You truly are a wonder to behold, darling.”

A teasing smile tugged on her lips. “I could say the same about you, love.”

Giving her waist a gentle squeeze, he kissed her sweetly before whispering, “That would please me great—”

“Ahem.”

The couple turned to see Neve standing several feet away, arms crossed over her chest, smirking. “Don’t make me separate you two.”

Agnes squeaked, “Sorry Neve” and hurried towards her, leaving Emmrich barely stifling a laugh behind her.

Every. Damn. Time.

***

“You look so handsome tonight, love.” Agnes whispered to Emmrich, her hand on his arm, as they attended my very first opera. It was Emmrich’s idea. He loves it, and he wants to share it with me, so I figured why not give it a try!

And then he went and had a third dress made for me.

Just to go to the opera apparently.

But…he does look incredibly yummy…and smells so good. Fuck.

His cheeks flushed slightly. “Why thank you, darling! For opening night of the season at the Royal Nevarra Opera, one must be dressed for the momentous occasion that it is.” He leaned to press a quick peck to her cheek. “Though, even in my best ensemble and most valuable grave gold, I pale in comparison next to you, my dear.”

EMM!!!!

She giggled, watching as he handed their tickets to the usher. “Flatterer.”

After the tickets were checked, Emmrich nodded politely to the usher and lead them towards the grand staircase in the lobby of the opera house. “I seem to remember accusing you of charming flattery once upon a time, dear.”

“You mean my very bad attempts at flirting?” Agnes teased as she and Emmrich ascended the stairs.

He let out a joyous guffaw. “Dearest! Your attempts were never bad.” At the top of the grand staircase, he’s showing our tickets to another fucking usher. Mate, can we just get to our bloody seats?!

Oh wait.

We don’t have seats.

Emmrich has a private box, because of course he does.

“That being said,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her short, dark red curls. “Subtly was never your forte, my heart.”

He’s not wrong.

When they fucking finally reached his box, he gestured for her to sit first and offered her a bejeweled hand. Those hands…better be on me later. Please? She smiled as her hand slipped into his and sat on the very fancy wooden chair. “But you love me anyways.”

Within a moment, he was beside her and handed her a program, his fingers brushing against hers. “That I do, my darling.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, sighing happily. “That I do. Ah!” Emmrich exclaimed as the lights darkened. “It’s starting! I do hope you enjoy it, Agi dearest. It’s a particular favorite of mine.”

Agnes hoped she would like the opera.

Then it started.

And it’s in bloody High Nevarran…so I have no idea what’s happening.

That’s alright though. I can keep an eye on Emm and watch all his adorable reactions.

My adorable, handsome, brilliant love.

[utilitycaster]

Man, I didn’t want to believe the c3 stans on twitter were actually being that dense and hypocritical, but one quick search and woooooow. I can’t believe I’m seeing ‘I wish people could criticize CR without people jumping to CR’s defense!’ from the same people who’d call you homophobic for saying Laudna’s story arc has been poorly handled. Like these people aren’t even disagreeing that C3 has pacing issues now! But somehow they still can’t admit that maybe the naysayers had a valid point and it’s only a problem when their blorbos don’t get all the spotlight in the ending, something the naysayers were worried about ever since the Keyleth speed dial moment.

I’ve seen people say ‘to make up for BH not getting the full spotlight I want them to show up in C4!’ and like, that really does just highlight how all that matters to these people is their little blorbos getting more screen time. They see that pulling past parties into the current campaign can lead to them overshadowing the current party, and rather than arrive at the conclusion ‘we should limit the ability for past PCs to show up in future campaigns’ they think ‘I want C4 to focus on my favorite blorbos at the expense of the new party!’

YUP. One of the consistently worst, most unkind, and self-absorbed of the lot, who constantly takes anything that challenges the idea that their blorbos are not the most morally justified in the worst faith possible, made a post during their gross tantrum regarding the charity one-shot about how Bells Hells should crash the Fjorester wedding and like...I mean honestly it's just deeply sad. Like, most of the Bells Hells stans don't even like Fjord, Jester, Fjorester, or the Mighty Nein in general, and they probably wouldn't enjoy watching a one-shot (let alone paying to see it live) just to catch a brief glimpse of Bells Hells, and as someone who is paying to see it live my feeling is much more just...I mean that would be kind of weird, but like, the thing is, I like the Mighty Nein so much that a party I like less showing up is like, ok, weird choice, but the Nein are here. And they clearly hate the Mighty Nein more than they enjoy Bells Hells, and that is something of a tragedy.

A lot of us repeatedly said that the Bells Hells fans really wanted Campaign 2 but with Bells Hells and every time they jeered at us and now they're pointing to the time and space that the Aeor arc was given and crying that this is what they wanted. Hell, as someone else pointed out, they're too stupid to come up with a unique slogan - they've taken Liam's "what's sexier than wizards NOTHING" and swapped in sorcerers. They wanted Vox Machina in the story when it meant bringing back one of the most weakly conceived actual play characters to ever exist, and a lot of them even liked the Nein in episode 50 because they could write scenarios with Beau and Imogen, but suddenly, when it's apparent that this was never Bells Hells' campaign, it was the big trilogy finale in which Bells Hells were the current PCs, they're so bitter that they've already written off a Campaign 4 on every possible level. They can't ever extricate the party from past ones given Orym and Laudna's baked-in concepts and won't admit they got exactly what they signed up for.

They've been mad at us for literal years for calling various party members selfish, and we've known for years it was because they were, themselves, utterly selfish. It's really that simple.

[djloveyou3000]

No Escape From You

Ps this is not how shereen looks like they do have similar face shape shereens lips are more plumper and the eye is more Arab if you know what I mean but she looks different plus shereen looks like me but sometimes her hair looks like this and she dress like her sorry for the ramble hope you in joy 🥹

Shereen looked at her two boys, her eldest, Vladimir, and Nadim. She was sitting, wearing her dress, while her boys played on the floor. She had a soft yet sad, loving look as she watched them. Nadim looked exactly like his father, the only difference being that he had her hair color. The rest was all Russell Adler. Her heart ached. She remembered the last time she saw him, the day he betrayed her and shot her. She wondered what would have happened if he had known she was pregnant back then. Would he have still shot her? Would he have taken her away and faked her death? They could have had Nadim, and he would have gone to Russia and taken Vladimir. They could have been a happy family in America, living the dream with the white picket fence and a dog. Did he even love her when he kissed her? When he made love to her? Or when they were undercover, and a man flirted with her? Russell had gotten so mad—she’d never seen him like that. He had taken her so roughly and claimed she was his, Bell, his Bluebell.

I guess it was all a lie because if he loved her, he wouldn’t have shot her. Shereen didn’t feel her tears falling until she felt a few tiny hands wiping them away.

“Mama, are you okay?” they both asked.

She smiled, kissing them. “Yes, of course, my sweet boys. Mama’s okay. I just have something in my eyes.”

Vladimir, her seven-year-old, and Nadim, her not yet two-year-old, looked up at her with concern. She then played with them on the floor, letting them talk her ear off.

Her long, beautiful, elegant dress was navy, and she wore gold jewelry and elegant shoes. She always dressed like this when she wasn’t in the field. She didn’t go into the field anymore. When she came back here, her papa forbade it. His death had broken her.

Then, Stitch walks in, ruining the sweet moment. Shereen looks at him, annoyed, as he slammed into her boys, who were clinging to her. Nadim, being only two, starts crying. She shushes them gently while giving Stitch a glare.

“What do you want? You scared my boys,” she says sharply.

Stitch rolls his eyes. “They need to toughen up and be men.”

“They are children,” Shereen snaps.

“What do you even want?” she demands.

“I need you to come with me,” he says.

“I’m not leaving my children alone,” she retorts, holding them close.

“I’ll leave guards with them,” he says. At that, four guards walk in, their eyes fixed on her intensely, especially one of them. Then they look at the boys, particularly the same guard who eyes Nadim. Nadim, with his pacifier, is 19 months old. Both he and Vladimir, the adorable 7-year-old, look at them with curiosity and fear.

“I’m not leaving my sons with these strangers,” Shereen says firmly. “Whatever you want to tell me, tell me here.”

Stitch rolls his eyes again. “They’ll be fine. Stop being overdramatic. You’re babying them.” His thick Russian accent rolls off his tongue.

Then, Stitch looks at Nadim and Vladimir, especially Nadim, and Shereen notices the guard who is staring at them deeply. The other guard clenches his fist, and his posture suggests he’s about to attack Stitch. The other guards notice and quickly hold him back.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop using that pacifier ?” Stitch says in disgust and venom, his voice thick with anger.

“Don’t speak to my son,” Shereen snaps.

Then Stitch cuts her off. “He’s a bastard. He looks just like his fucking father. I can’t believe you opened your legs like a whore for that American bastard who took my fucking eye. Can’t believe that little bastard survived when you got shot. Should have had a miscarriage. He looks so much like him. You know, I wonder how Adler would feel if I show him his dead bastard. But that bastard got away. I trapped him, tortured him, and brainwashed him to blow up a city until his little team found and rescued him. I know he’ll be back, and I can’t wait to tell him and kill the little shit.”

Shereen, unable to take it any longer, is about to murder him. Then she notices the dagger in his hand, and he speeds toward Nadim. But she’s quick to grab his wrist and shoulder before the guards can react. He grabs her roughly, and the kids scream,”MAMA” “GET OFF ME! I WILL KILL THAT BASTARD!” he yells.

Shereen keeps her cold gaze on him. “You will do no such thing.”

She hears the guards yelling, “Adler, calm down,” and the voice sounds familiar,

Her breath caught.

Her blood turned ice.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

The voice—

No but she focuses on Stitch, making sure he goes nowhere but hell. Then she processes what he said—he tortured and brainwashed Russell, but Russell was saved.

“FUCK! I HAD THAT BASTARD BUT HE GOT AWAY FROM ME!” Stitch snarls.

Shereen rolls her eyes. “Good for him. You lost. And honestly, he should have taken both of your eyes. Perhaps, when he comes back, he will.”

Stitch’s fury grows. “HOW DARE YOU, YOU WHORE? I WILL KILL YOU AND MAKE HIM WATCH. AFTER EVERYTHING HE’S DONE, YOU’RE STILL DEFENDING HIM. WHAT, DID HE FUCK YOU THAT GOOD? IS HIS DICK THAT GOOD?”

Without missing a beat, Shereen says, “Yes, he is. And you will never be an inch the man he is. Honestly, it’s exhausting watching you try to woo me. Have some shame. I will never marry you or let your shrimp dick near me. Even if it did, I wouldn’t have felt it. YOU BASTARD.”

Before he can respond, she kicks him in the balls, twists his arm, and kicks his leg. The guards tackle him, and one of them yells for Shereen to take the kids and go. That’s when she immediately recognizes the voice—Russell.

Before Shereen could do anything, the guards came in with guns, and Stitch yelled for them to kill them all. Shereen immediately grabs Nadim and Vladimir, while Mason, Woods, and Hudson take action. Russell shoots some of the guards and runs after Shereen. Stitch is with him, as they can’t attack the enemies without risking Stitch’s life.

Shereen leads them through an underground tunnel she knows, and they find a safe place. Once they’re all secure, Shereen comforts her two wailing children. “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re both safe. Mama is here,” she coos, bouncing them gently and kissing their foreheads.

She then looks at Mason, Woods, and Hudson. “Hey, kid,” Woods says with a grin. “Hi, Bell,” Masson adds. Hudson just watches her from under his aviators, while Russell looks at her deeply. His mask is off now, and he looks just as handsome as she remembers—his hair longer, with stubble. His eyes are filled with rage, worry, tenderness, and love as he looks at her and the boys.

Stitch’s dark chuckle cut through the heavy silence. “Well, well, what a fucking reunion.” “You know, I bet you scream his name when you’re alone with him,” Stitch jeers, his voice dripping with malice. “You really think you can protect them? You’re just a pathetic, delusional whore who can’t let go of that bastard.”

Russell’s jaw clenched.

“Shut up, you shithead ,” Woods snapped.

“Or what?” Stitch sneered. “Gonna put a bullet in me? Do it, then. But you won’t, not while I’m your only leverage.” His masked face turned toward Shereen, eyes narrowing. “You should’ve let me finish the job, sweetheart. Would’ve saved you the heartbreak when Adler inevitably leaves you again.”

Russell moved.

Faster than anyone could react, he slammed Stitch against the wall, pressing a forearm against his throat.

“Keep running your mouth, and I’ll rip your fucking tongue out,” Russell growled, voice dangerously low.

Stitch just laughed. “There he is,” he taunted. “The cold-blooded CIA lapdog. Tell me, does she know what you did after you shot her? How you drank yourself to sleep? How you almost put a bullet in your own—”

Russell punched him.

Stitch’s head snapped to the side. Blood splattered onto the ground.

“Shut. The fuck. Up,” Russell hissed.

Of course! Here’s the scene with Shereen’s shock, heartbreak, and disbelief:

Stitch just laughed. “There he is,” he taunted. “The cold-blooded CIA lapdog. Tell me, does she know what you did after you shot her? How you drank yourself to sleep? How you almost put a bullet in your own—”

The words hit Shereen like a gut punch. Her body went still, her breath catching in her throat. What? She blinked, her mind refusing to process what she had just heard. Russell… did what?

Her heart pounded in her chest, but it felt as though it was breaking at the same time. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her mind swirled with disbelief, her vision starting to blur as her eyes welled with tears. No, no… that can’t be true. Not him. Not my Russell.

Her body trembled, her hands shaking as the tears began to fall. She hadn’t been there. She hadn’t seen what he’d gone through after she was gone. The thought of him—her strong, composed love—drinking himself into oblivion, broken and alone, tore through her like a dagger. He almost… he almost ended it all?

Her heart ached, a sharp, gut-wrenching pain that she couldn’t escape. She pressed her hand to her mouth, as though trying to hold in a sob that threatened to escape. Why didn’t he tell me? The betrayal of her death, the shock of hearing how deeply Russell had suffered in the wake of it—it was too much to bear. She couldn’t comprehend the weight of it.

All she could do was stand there, her breath shallow, feeling every ounce of his torment crashing down on her. How could he have been that lost?

Tears streamed down her face as the truth settled in. She had been dead—gone from his life, and all the while, he had been spiraling in his grief. The man she loved so much had been drowning in pain, thinking he would never see her again. She cried for him, for everything he had suffered, for everything she hadn’t known.

The tears blurred her vision, but they didn’t stop.

Shereen didn’t move.

“Shhh, my sweet boys,” she whispered breaking , pressing a kiss to each of their heads. “Mama is here. You’re both safe. No one will ever hurt you.”

Her voice was soothing, but her mind was racing.

Russell was here.

Alive.

In front of her.

Her heart pounded as she looked up at him. His mask was gone, revealing the face she hadn’t seen in years. He looked older—his hair was longer, his stubble thicker, but his eyes… his eyes were the same. Sharp. Piercing. Yet filled with something else now.

Something raw.

Rage. Worry. Shame. Love.

He was staring at her.

At the boys.

At Nadim.

And she could see the moment the truth hit him.

But before she could say anything—

Russell’s face darkens. “Bell, go hide the kids somewhere they can’t hear or see,” he says, his voice firm. She nods quickly and leaves.

She finds a quiet room to hide the boys. As she’s closing the door, she hears Stitch screaming in the distance.

She was there for a while, what felt like hours, sitting on the floor with the kids clinging to her, both having fallen asleep. Tears streaked down her face. Then she hears a knock, the one that she and Russell had used years ago. She responds with the knock, and the door opens. Russell rushes in, covered in blood. He immediately checks on her and the kids.

“Baby, are you okay? Sweetheart, are the babies okay?” he asks with deep worry as he cups her face.

She nods, “Yeah, yeah, we’re okay. They’re just shaken up, but they’re fine.”

He sighs in relief, then dives for a kiss. That kiss was a mix of asking for forgiveness, relief, anger, love, and fear. She kisses him back. Russell was hungry for it.

Hudson then calls out, “Can you not chew on each other’s face?”

Woods adds, “Yeah, don’t start making another kid now.”

Masson laughs, saying, “Yeah, do that later when you’re alone.”

They break the kiss, both of them blushing. Russell looks annoyed, and Shereen feels embarrassed, her cheeks turning even redder.

Russell pulled back, shooting Woods a glare while Mason and Hudson chuckled. Shereen, on the other hand, was blushing furiously, her already rosy cheeks darkening.

Russell helps her to her feet and gently picks up both children, kissing their heads. Shereen’s heart melts as she watches him treat them both the same, even though Nadim is his biological son and Vladimir is not. He treats them equally, showing them both the same care and affection.

Russell sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before gently lifting Nadim into his arms. The boy flinched slightly at first, but Russell just held him closer and pressed a soft kiss to his head. Then he reached out and pulled Vladimir into his side as well.

It didn’t matter that Vladimir wasn’t his by blood. He was Shereen’s, and that was enough for Russell. They were his boys.

He looked back at her, meeting her deep, emotional gaze.

“What happened?” Shereen asks, her voice soft with concern.

“Well, every soldier is dead, and Stitch… well, he’s more dead,” Mason says.

Woods and Hudson shudder a bit, clearly remembering what Russell did to Stitch. Russell smiles sadistically, his rage still visible. “The fucker had what was coming to him, touching and yelling at my girl and boys,” he mutters.

Shereen feels a rush of happiness, love, and a little bit of arousal at his words. She watches him, feeling a deep connection.

Russell notices her reaction and gives her a wink, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s get out of here.”

“Wait, my stuff and the kids?” Shereen asks, still a bit shaken.

Russell nods. “Already got it.”

They begin walking, and it’s pitch black outside. Shereen glances around, disoriented. “How long has it been?” she wonders aloud.

“A long time,” Russell answers, his voice steady.

They continue walking, and soon they arrive in America, finally back to safety.

Here’s a more detailed and expanded version of the scene:

The children had been bathed, fed, and were now peacefully asleep in their beds. The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of their breathing, a serene contrast to the chaos that had unfolded earlier. Shereen and Russell, though physically close, sat on opposite sides of the emotional battlefield, each dealing with their own thoughts. The weight of the events that had transpired hung heavy in the air.

Russell, unable to keep the turmoil within him any longer, suddenly collapsed to his knees in front of Shereen. His body shook with sobs as he buried his face in her waist, clutching her as if she were his anchor. The tears that had been threatening to fall finally broke free, leaving his face wet with guilt and sorrow.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” he muttered between sobs, his voice choked with anguish. “I was a coward. I followed orders… I should have broken them. I’m sorry I almost killed you, Bell. I’m so sorry. I should have protected you… I should have protected our family… I should never have let that bastard manipulate me…” His words were broken, scattered with raw emotion, and as he spoke, the weight of his regret was suffocating.

He lifted his tear-streaked face to look up at her, his eyes filled with shame and fear. “Vladimir would have been an orphan. And that bastard… Stitch, he could have done anything to him. He could have hurt him… I should have… I should have known better. Every night, I see you—” His breath hitched as he tried to speak, but he couldn’t form the words. His eyes welled with more tears as he recalled the nightmares of losing her.

Shereen, heart aching for him, gently placed her hands on his face, guiding his eyes back to hers. “Russell please my love, stop,” she whispered, her voice soft but firm. She could feel the intensity of his pain, the way he carried the burden of his past mistakes. “I forgive you.”

She knelt beside him, pulling him into an embrace as he collapsed against her once again, this time letting all the pain, the guilt, and the fear flood out of him. His sobs and screams were deep, unrelenting, and it broke her heart to see him like this. She held him tightly, her own tears falling as she felt the weight of everything he had endured.

“I failed you, Bell Shereen ,” he murmured between sobs. “I failed our family. Stitch—he… he kept telling me he was going to kill Nadim, and that he’d marry you… give you children… while he tortured me. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t protect you from him. I couldn’t protect you from me…” His voice broke with self-loathing, but Shereen refused to let him spiral deeper.

She gently cupped his face in her hands, wiping away his tears, her touch tender and soothing. “You didn’t fail us, Russell. You made a choice, a terrible one, but you’re here now. And that’s what matters.” She kissed his forehead, his eyes, and then his mouth, each kiss soft, full of emotion, full of forgiveness. She could feel the weight of the years they had lost, the pain of their separation, and the love that had never really faded.

His lips responded to hers with a hunger that came from the depths of his soul. It was a kiss that spoke of forgiveness, longing, and relief. Their lips moved together, the kiss growing deeper, more desperate. Russell pulled her closer, his hands sliding to her back as if he couldn’t get close enough. His touch was tender but urgent, as if he needed to make sure she was real, that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Shereen clung to him, her hands threading through his hair, feeling the roughness of the stubble on his jaw and the warmth of his skin. She knew this kiss wasn’t just about love—it was about healing, about mending what had been broken between them. She could feel the intensity of his emotions, the rage and guilt, but also the love that had never left.

The kiss deepened further, fueled by the years of separation and pain. Russell shifted, his hands moving to lift her, and he laid her gently back on the bed clothes off bodies together . The movement was fluid, intimate, and as he hovered above her, his lips found hers again, this time with a fiercer intensity. She responded in kind, the kiss growing more urgent as they gave in to the need to feel connected, to reassure each other that they were still there, still alive, still in this together.

As they continued, Russell’s hands moved to her body with reverence, as if he was rediscovering every part of her, every curve, every line. He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, and in that moment, there was a promise—silent but clear. “I’ll protect you. I’ll protect the kids,” he whispered fiercely, his breath ragged. “No one will ever hurt you or them again. I swear it.”

Shereen could see the determination in his eyes, the depth of his conviction. It wasn’t just words—he meant it. And she believed him.

As their love unfolded, as they both gave in to their desire, Russell slid a ring onto her finger, sealing the promises they had made to each other in their hearts. The gesture was simple but profound, and Shereen couldn’t help but smile through her tears, feeling the warmth of his love wrap around her like a shield.

When they finally paused, their breaths mingling, their bodies entwined, Russell kissed her forehead and whispered softly, “I love you, Bell. And I’ll never let you go.”

“I love you too, Russell,” she replied, her voice steady but filled with all the emotions that had been building between them. “You’ll never lose me again.”

And with that promise, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, their hearts finally at peace, knowing that they would face whatever came next together.

[maxdibert]

I hate the excuse "Snape was only bullied bc he was into the dark arts and believed in blood purity" Nah man, most of the "hot" popular guys in my HS were racist as shit and watched liveleak execution videos on their phones in class and they sure as fuck didnt get bullied for being massive pieces of shit (or in any official trouble, "we cant do anything if you have no proof", fucking hell), but do you know who did get bullied and in trouble? The quiet "ugly" kids who were into innocuous stuff like anime or emo fashion and just wanted to be left alone. Getting bullied every day for no reason other than existing, and then getting punished when you finally break and lash out at the bullies once, while they get away with years of constant attacks on you and your friends.

I love Snape, because I see myself in him. Liking him tricked me into realising I didn't deserve what happened to me. I love all the people who stick up for his character, you're kind and understanding.

Love your blog, I've been going through reading all your posts and I couldn't help messaging, you write so well and it made me emotional. I hope you are well and have a wonderful day ❤️

That's a shitty excuse.

First, because canon doesn’t support it. Canon makes it very clear that James was the one who started the whole conflict. James, without anyone saying anything to him, approached Severus and mocked him for the first time on the Hogwarts Express during their first year. At that point, Severus hadn’t said anything about liking the Dark Arts, and James wasn’t born a Legilimens to magically know it. He simply thought he could butt into a conversation and make a shitty comment, and that was it. Canon also clearly establishes that when James stripped Severus in front of the whole school, it was because Sirius was bored, and his way of having fun was to corner “Snivellus” and publicly humiliate him. At no point are the Dark Arts mentioned. At no point is his association with Slytherins mentioned. The only one who brings it up is Lily, not James. This makes it very clear that James’s motive wasn’t ideological—he just enjoyed tormenting Severus because he liked having someone to take it out on. That’s it.

And second, that’s still not an excuse to torment someone in a position of inferiority. I’ve met plenty of people with garbage mindsets throughout my life, and I’ve never beaten them up for it—unless we were at a protest and they started getting violent. I have friends who were very popular in school, with leftist and combative mentalities, and it never crossed their minds to go after a marginalized kid, no matter how shitty their beliefs were, and publicly humiliate them. It’s ridiculous. Social justice isn’t about being a rich, spoiled brat abusing your social and economic power to pretend you care about people’s rights by using violence against someone who clearly can’t defend themselves or doesn’t have the same opportunities and tools you do. Social justice is about real actions with real impacts on society. So even if James’s excuse had been that—which it wasn’t—it would still have been just as wrong. And if anyone thinks otherwise, they’re either sociopaths or literal children who still don’t have hair on their legs and have no clue how the world works.

I wasn’t bullied in school, but I have met plenty of James Potter types throughout my life, and they’ve always disgusted me. White men, with money and resources, who think they can do and say whatever they want and treat people however they please. The ones who make “jokes” that aren’t jokes, the ones whose jokes have repulsive undertones. Guys I absolutely would punch in the face. Guys I’ve had to deal with all my life because, at the end of the day, they’re just gutless bags of shit.

Thanks for reading my blog. I’m glad it made you feel good. Big hug <3