#oh god…i’m so not ready for season 3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

steveslevis · 7 months ago

Text

‘tis the damn season

AUTUMN

chapter contents/warnings: exes to whatever the hell this is, a little bit of smut, angst, weed and alcohol use, mutual pining, steve is an idiot and is afraid of commitment </3, barely proofread (sowwy)

w/c: 5.3k

The first big frost of the season blankets the town of Hawkins when you arrive on Wednesday night, the bits of ice glittering on the orange and brown leaves making the barren streets seem less intimidating as you make your way through your hometown for the first time in months.

There’s a sense of anticipation and dread that fills your stomach while navigating the streets you know so well, knowing you’re going to be asked the same mundane questions about college in the big city a thousand times over during the next three weeks. You know that’s not the only thing filling you with dread for the weeks to come, but keep telling yourself that’s all you have to worry about — right?

The first evening you arrive in town is jam-packed, since your friends insisted on having a so-called “Friends-giving-mas” as the night that you arrived, due to your anticipated absence on the aforementioned Christmas. You spend a few hours with your mom and dad before leaving, enlisting your mom to help you make some cookies for the party, promising you’d leave her and your dad some behind.

The clock hits 7 p.m. and you’re finally finished getting ready, having just thrown on a red velvet, long sleeved dress that hit just above your knees and your best black boots, Robin had requested everyone to look their best so she could take photos with her new camera throughout the party. You grabbed your secret santa gift and jacket, checking yourself in the mirror one last time before leaving your room.

“Alright, I’m leaving.” you call out as you bound down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Don’t forget your cookies, sweetheart! They’re on the table.” she replied from her place next to your dad on the couch, watching some rom-com while he was dozing beside her, “if you need us to come pick you up, we will.”

You let out a laugh at her remark, knowing that you were only walking to the next house over on the road, so picking you up would be ridiculous.

“Oh, I think I’ll manage just fine.” you joke in return while grabbing the plate of cookies, “love you guys!”

—————————

The outside of the Harrington’s house is gleefully lit with warm string lights, wreaths already adorning the front windows and main door to the house in anticipation of Christmas in a few weeks. You always admired the way their house looked during the holidays, but knew it was only a cheery facade to hide the dysfunction that lay within the halls of the residence.

You knew the family all too well, having grown up next to Steve your entire life. You were the same age as him, grew up attending all the same parties as him, but ran in completely different circles than him — well, up until your senior year of high school at least.

Long story short, being best friends with Robin led to you ultimately becoming so-called friends with Steve Harrington as well. The two of you had what you now called a stupid summer fling before you left for Chicago in August, but the rest was history. The two of you had agreed to stay civil and not let the remnants of any unresolved feelings come between your friendship and the rest of the friend group.

So here you were, knocking on Steve Harrington’s front door on a random Wednesday in late November, cookies in hand as you stood there, shivering. You faintly hear Robin say that she would get the door, then hear footsteps pad towards the entrance.

You’re greeted by your best friend with the strongest hug you swear you’ve ever experienced, and you feel like you might not ever be let go if she has anything to say about it.

“Oh my god! I missed you so much.” Robin exclaims, the widest grin on her face as she grabs for your hand, “everyone’s in here, we’re just waiting on Nance and Jonathan then we’ll be ready to eat but come in! I have so much to tell you about everything you don’t even know—”

You follow behind her wordlessly, smiling to yourself as she rambles on about college applications and band and Vickie — who just so happened to be in the kitchen helping finish making the mashed potatoes so you had to be quiet — and everything that she can think to fit in a conversation to catch her best friend up on after months without. She leads you to the dining room after dropping off the cookies, where you hear two familiar voices having a very passionate conversation.

“I’m telling you, man, I’m cursed—“

“You’re not cursed, Harrington. I’m telling you, you’re just looking in the wrong place for love.” Eddie retorts to his frustrated friend, rolling his eyes at him.

“Oh yeah? And where should I be looking?” Steve snorts, haphazardly tossing forks, knives and spoons atop the napkin at each seat of the table.

“I’ve been saying ever since what happened this summer, you should be going after — oh shit, Y/N!” Eddie interjects, cutting himself off when you trail in behind Robin.

The metalhead pulls you in for a bear hug, whispering in your ear about how he promises not to ask you boring questions about college like everyone else. As you’re being engulfed in his embrace, you hear the sound of silverware tumbling to the ground from the other side of the table, followed by a string of mumbled curse words from the dropper.

You pull away from Eddie’s hug to look at where the noise is coming from, only to see Steve fumbling with a fork and spoon while trying to stand up from where he was just kneeling. Your gaze lingers on him for a moment too long, taking in everything about him that you told yourself you didn’t miss. Eddie gives you a knowing look and you roll your eyes, knowing that he’s trying to tell you to not make things weird, so you try your best.

“Stevie, how are you?” you call to him while walking around the table, putting on the best oblivious and excited face that you can.

“H-Hey, Y/N.” Steve says, feigning coolness as he pulls you in for a quick hug, nearly stumbling over his words when you use the nickname you always loved to tease him with, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

His eyes flicker over to Robin momentarily, who shoots him a guilty grin before mouthing ‘sorry’ over your shoulder.

“Yeah, it was kinda last minute on my part, I just so happened to be coming home tonight since my finals were all at the beginning of the week. I kinda forced Rob to tell me when it would be so I could crash it,” you lie, trying to throw the blame on yourself instead of her, “sorry if I messed anything up, I-I’ll lay low and won’t eat if that messes up numbers or something—“

“No!” Steve rushes to retort, shaking his head at you adamantly, “I mean, shit—sorry. No, you’re not messing anything up at all, you know you’re always welcome here.”

The smile on Steve’s face is genuine as he speaks, but there’s a glint of sadness in his eyes while he scans yours for any sign of hesitancy. You give him a small smile in return, quickly moving your gaze from his to push down that sinking feeling in your chest you know is coming. Your chest aches as you focus your eyes downward, realizing that this night would be a lot harder than you had convinced yourself that it would be.

“Well!” Robin interjects, interrupting the growing awkward silence filling the air of the dining room where you stood. She reached for your hand while smiling over at you sympathetically, beginning to drag you towards the kitchen as she spoke, “gotta go say hello to everyone else before dinner!”

Your best friend whirled you around to the rest of the guests–which was just Nancy, Jonathan, and Vickie–who were all in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the meal.

A slew of awkward questions about Chicago ensued in the moments leading up to and during dinner, but you took them in stride as they distracted you from the bright eyed boy across the table who kept sneaking glances in your direction any chance he got. You explained your major, what you did for work outside of class time, and talked about all the new friends you met in the short few months you’d been gone. You could’ve sworn Steve’s jaw clenched at the mention of a date you went on prior to leaving for break, but you didn’t put too much thought into it.

Dinner goes by fairly quickly, and then it’s time for Secret Santa gifts in the living room. Robin begged everyone to participate, and even went through the effort of making sure you and Steve didn’t get each other, partly to not ruin the surprise of you being here and partly to diminish any awkwardness that might arise from it.

You had drawn Jonathan’s name, so you gifted him a few rolls of different camera film. Each person had to guess who their Secret Santa was, but apparently your gift was pretty obvious since he hadn’t been able to find any film like it anywhere near Hawkins, so he guessed you first.

Your turn rolled around and a small red gift bag was sat in your lap. You immediately knew who your gift was from, halfway from the grin plastered on his face and halfway from the smell lingering from inside the back in your hands.

“Thank you, Eddie.” you giggle out while pulling out four perfectly rolled blunts from the gift bag, courtesy of the best dealer in Hawkins.

“It’s always a pleasure,” he jabs back, “we can fire one up after presents if you’d like.”

You nod quickly at him, grinning widely before turning back to the circle where Robin was handing out gifts.

—————————

It’s not long before drinks are flowing and laughter is spilling through the Harrington residence, something that’s happened very few times within those halls. The night seems to go by too quickly, you notice how quickly when you check and it says 11 P.M. already, even though it feels like you’ve only been there a few hours. You’re sitting on the couch with Robin and Vickie, giggling their way through a story about some guy in the Hawkins band, when the sight of the back door sliding open and closed catches your eye.

You turn your gaze to see Steve stalking into the cold on his own, head turned down as he walks towards one of the ice-slicked pool chairs on the deck. A frown passes over your face as you furrow your brows, excusing yourself from the couple on the couch as you slip outside to follow him with your bottle of wine, one of your newly gifted blunts and a lighter in hand.

It’s the last thing you should be doing tonight, really. You shouldn’t be following Steve Harrington – the man who was too afraid to say he loved you and too afraid to commit to you – onto the porch. You should’ve stayed inside and drank some more wine with the rest of them and let yourself cut loose for once, but you just couldn’t do it. You just had to talk to him – you weren’t so sure what you wanted to talk about, but you just felt the need to.

“You alright?” was all you could slip out as you closed the sliding glass door, watching the brown haired boy from afar, making sure you weren’t making the wrong decision.

“Yeah–Yeah, just needed a little bit of fresh air.” Steve stammered, eyes widening for only a moment when he notices that it’s you that followed him outside.

You only hum in response, stepping closer to him as you sense no annoyance or anger in his voice, finding a spot on the chilled pool chair next to his. After setting down the bottle of wine you’d been nursing throughout the night, you took the blunt you’d brought as a peace offering between your fingers and waved it in front of his face.

Steve looked up for a moment, gaze shifting between the blunt between your fingers and your lips that curled up into a mischievous yet friendly smirk. His own lips perked up in a lopsided smile, raising an eyebrow at you when you brought the blunt to your lips, followed by the lighter.

“Would you like to partake?” you joke while puffing smoke through your lips, mixing with the cold puffs of breath coming from Steve’s.

“I’ll never say no to that,” he retorts, reaching to grab the blunt from your fingers.

There’s a breath of comfortable silence between the two of you as he inhales, then lets out a long exhale before focusing his gaze back onto the pool in front of him, onto the ice forming on the pool cover as a way to avoid your eyes.

“So, how’s the Stevie Harrington been faring since I’ve been gone?” you joked after a moment more of the quiet, shoving any nerves down that were threatening to force you to run back inside.

Awful, utterly dull and extremely depressing, was what Steve wanted to say.

He wanted to tell you how he fucked up so badly, how he hasn’t been the same since the last time he saw you, how he hasn’t even been able to look at anyone without thinking of you. He wanted to grab you by the cheeks and pull you in for a kiss and never let go. He wanted to scream and tell you how much he regretted ever letting you leave without knowing how he really felt, but he couldn’t now. It was too late, so he just said; “Oh, y’know. I’ve been fine. Just the same shit, different day.”

Steve wanted to kick himself for saying something so lame, something so uninteresting when the most interesting person in the world was sitting right in front of him.

“Does ‘same shit, different day’ just mean you’re stuck being the same old chauffeur-babysitter you’ve been for the last two years?” you tease, reaching down to grab the bottle of wine at your feet.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Steve chuckled, giving you a warm smile as he took another puff.

It only took a few moments to finally break the ice between the two of you, then things fell right back into place, right back into a comfortable normalcy. There was something that put you so at ease being outside with him, being able to talk to him without the looming thought of who would be the first to say “I love you” or who would be the first to leave waving over both of your heads.

The next hour went by in a breeze, and it seemed the party inside died down by the time the two of you decided to walk back in. Steve closed the sliding glass door behind you two and you noticed only Eddie and Robin were left standing in the living room. Vickie was presumably in the guest bed, where Robin was about to head to. Jonathan and Nancy had left twenty minutes prior, only popping their heads out to say a quick goodbye before driving off.

Robin said a quick goodnight to you before heading up the stairs, along with a promise to see you tomorrow for a girl’s day. Then, it was just you, Eddie and Steve in the living room, Eddie at the couch setting up his bed for the night while the two of you stood in silence by the sliding glass door still.

“I–I guess I should probably head home for the night,” you say, breaking the silence between the three of you as you start towards your bag and coat on the other side of the room.

“Why don’t you just stay?” Steve interjects a little too loudly, the weed and wine in his system instilling some false confidence in him. “It’s so cold out and I’m sure at this point your parents already think you’re staying anyways.”

You stop on your toes at Steve’s voice, cheeks heating at how interested he sounded in you staying there for the night. It’s not like it was a far and dangerous walk, Steve just wanted an excuse to be around you for longer. You turn around to look at him, then to Eddie, who was giving you a tired smile.

“We can have a sleepover on the couch,” Eddie chuckles, reaching for one of the pillows he was setting out for himself to move it to the other side of the couch for you.

“I don’t have any clothes,” you suggest, looking down at your velvet dress that would be extremely uncomfortable to sleep in.

“Oh, I’m sure Stevie has some clothes that you can sleep in!” Eddie says, shooting a smirk in his direction.

“O–Of course I do, I’m sure I still have your favorite pajama pants up there if you want them.” Steve says hurriedly, as if you would change your mind if he didn’t answer quickly enough.

You give the two of them a smile, pretending to contemplate the decision for a moment before nodding. You could’ve sworn you heard Steve let out a breath of relief at your nod, but he turned towards the stairs before you could acknowledge it. Without a word, you follow right behind him up the stairs, slowly realizing the effects of the cherry wine and weed are coming to the surface.

Steve steps into his bedroom and you follow behind him, a situation the two of you knew all too well.

—————————

You don’t know what led to this, but there you were, in Steve’s bedroom, him towering over your space on his bed as he pulled you in for a heated kiss. Tongue against teeth, hands against cheeks, legs tangled together, just like they were meant to be.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t come crawling back every time you were in town, but here you were.

Somehow coming upstairs for a stupid pair of pajamas led to Steve giving you that look of lust and utter desire, led to you becoming a willing participant in his games once again after swearing you would never touch him again, led to you letting him sneak his way into your heart – and pants – yet again.

Your head is spinning as he kisses you, his lips slotted into yours like they belonged there, a perfect fit. You’re unsure if it’s the wine, the weed or the sheer yearning that’s making you feel like this, but you don’t want it to stop any time soon.

There’s a gnawing feeling in your stomach when Steve props his knee up on the bed next to your hip, you know you should stop before he gets any further, but the ache between your thighs is outweighing any thought of what would come after he spreads you open.

Steve groans into your mouth when you pull him closer, fingers intertwining with and tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, and you only smirked against his lips in satisfaction. You knew everything about the boy who was turning to a puddle just from the touch of your fingers. You knew exactly how to make him tick, and him the same for you.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes when he finally pulls away from you, full lips parted as he stares down at you. There’s a twinkle in his eye that you haven’t seen in so long, one you used to mistake for love but now only know to be pure lust. “I–I’m sorry I just, I need–I need you.”

You stare at the desperate, doe-eyed man in front of you for a long moment, mind wandering to a place of fear as you think about what you’re about to do.

Instead of saying anything in reply, you close the space between the two of you once again, smashing your lips into his in a feverish and bruising kiss. Steve is on you in an instant, gently pushing you back and up on the bed, letting your head fall on his pillows. You can tell by the way he stumbles on his way up to you that he’s intoxicated — on the weed or the wine, or you, you’re not sure — but you soon realize that you are too.

A hand wanders toward the hem of Steve’s sweater, tugging at it quickly as he pulls away from the bruising kiss. He wastes no time in pulling the cable-knit up and over his head, tossing it to the side while sitting up on his knees to take you the sight of you in. Your skin was hot and your eyes were blown with lust, cheeks flushed and lips parted as you stared up at him.

You’d only been under him for a minute and had completely folded to his touch. You cursed yourself for letting your inhibitions crumble so quickly, but another part of you didn’t actually care, the same part of you that wanted to claim him as yours forever.

Steve’s eyes trailed over you, from your cheeks to the low neckline of your dress, over the curve of your hips, ending on your thighs spread on either side of his knees. The crushed velvet of your skirt bunched where your leg met your hip, letting the fabric ride up enough for Steve to see exactly what he was searching for.

He sucked in a breath at the sight of your white lace underwear beneath, having to hold himself back from diving in right that second.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groaned, hands tracing over your hip bones while lowering his lips to yours once again.

A moan falls from your lips as his meet yours, his knee coming up between your thighs, creating friction against your core.

“Fuck—Stevie,” you say, choking back a pitiful whine while grinding against his thigh desperately, “please, I need you.”

You swear you hear Steve nearly choke at your words, three words he’d been dying to hear from you for months.

“I know, I know, baby.” he coos at you, trying to keep his cool as he strains against his pants, “I’ll take care of you.”

You nod feverishly as he leans down to pepper kisses along your neck, taking his sweet time while trying not to get drunk off the scent of you.

“This—This doesn’t mean anyth—this doesn’t change anything,” he stammers between kisses, peering up at you as he speaks, “we can still stay close—keep being friends after this.”

You hum in agreement, ignoring the dread building in your gut as you do. You want to be more than friends, you want to scream at him until he admits that he loves you too. But he nearly said it doesn’t mean anything, so you’re convinced he wants nothing to do with you after tonight, nothing but a friend to laugh with and a pretty face to fuck on every break from college.

You push the thoughts from your mind, focusing on the boy in front of you as his hands begin to massage your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your core with every circle. Steve chuckles lowly as you let out a whine of anticipation, teasing you silently as he gives in to your desires.

Steve knows your body like he knows his own, so what comes after pulling off your dress is nearly second nature to him. One large hand trails to the waistband of your underwear while the other reaches for your breast, nipple peaked from the exposure to the cold air conditioning. You moan in surprise when he wastes no time in putting his mouth to work on your other nipple, tugging your underwear down your legs simultaneously.

His fingers immediately fall to your core once you’re free of the underwear, fingertips circling the bundle of nerves at the top as you let out another whimper.

His moves are careful but quick, he knows you want to waste no more time, and you’ll whine about his teasing if he doesn’t act soon.

He’s out of his boxers in an instant, one hand keeping contact with your clit as he situates himself above you.

“You look so good like this, sweetheart.” Steve says, voice low as his eyes raked over your body, “so pretty spread out for me, all fucked out for me even though I’ve barely touched you.”

“Stevie…” you whimper, reaching a hand up to him, but he pulls from your reach with a smirk across his face.

“Tell me what you want from me,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek as he lines himself up with your slick, teasing the tip against you slowly.

“I—I need you, Steve.” you beg, cheeks flushing at the admittance, “I need you to fuck me, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” he retorts with a smirk, sliding into you with ease.

You both let out a low moan as he bottoms out, filling you in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. You forgot how thick he was in the time you’d been gone, your body wasn’t used to the stretch of his cock inside you, but it still felt like he was meant to be there. Like he was the only one who could make you feel this way.

And you were right, nobody could make you feel that way. Nobody else could touch you and make you fall apart in less than five minutes like he could. Nobody else could get you so riled up over a few praises thrown in with some condescension (which you embarrassingly loved too much) like he could. Nobody could hold off from cumming long enough to give you three orgasms before getting one of their own like he could.

Nobody did it like he could.

This doesn’t mean anything you repeat in your mind, clinging to his arm like your life depended on it after the two of you calmed your breathing and cleaned up. You weren’t sure if you were repeating those words to convince yourself or to ease your own mind about what just went down, but you knew they stung your heart more than any fighting words the two of you had ever exchanged.

“I missed this, cuddling with you, holdin’ you like this.” was all he slurred out against your hair, pressing a sleepy kiss into the crown of your head.

“Yeah, me too.” you mumble in return, accepting the warmth of his embrace as sleep finally took you in, ignoring the gnawing pain growing in your chest.

—————————

The spice of Steve’s cologne mixes with the familiar scent of his room, filling your senses when you wake, nearly sending you into a panic. You sit upright in the bed, turning to face the boy you claimed you wanted nothing to do with romantically just a few hours ago. Steve is sleeping peacefully next to you, plush lips parted and brows furrowed as he subconsciously pouts about the loss of your touch. The alarm clock behind him read 2:03 A.M., meaning you hadn’t been out for too long, but long enough to sober you up somehow.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I gotta get out of here. Is all you can think as you stumble out from under the comforter, knowing you would never live it down if anyone found you’d slept in his bed, especially with your limbs entangled like they just were. You quickly dress in the clothes you’d originally come into the bedroom to fetch, and snuck out of the bedroom without a sound.

Before making it to the living room, you turned toward the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of water. What you weren’t expecting to be faced with in the kitchen was Eddie, but there he was, leaning against the counter with disheveled hair that probably mirrored your own.

“What a night so far, huh?” he jokes as you shoot him a knowing glare while trudging across the tiled floor.

“Don’t even start with me, Munson.” you warn, absentmindedly reaching your hand up to the cabinet for a glass while shaking your head.

“Woah, don’t get that attitude with me! I didn’t say anything,” he laughs, setting his own glass into the sink, “but that also doesn’t mean I didn’t hear anything.”

“You did not,” you snap back, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he gives you a shit-eating grin, “there’s no way you heard anything because nothing happened.”

“You’ve always been such a bad liar, Y/N.” Eddie laughs, stepping out of the kitchen to walk towards the living room where the two of you would be sleeping.

A sigh escapes your lips when Eddie leaves, letting you be alone with your thoughts finally. There was an ache in your chest that wasn’t going away any time soon, and it was in that moment that you wondered if you would ever be able to get over Steve Harrington, or if you would be in a continuous cycle of hurt and comfort for the rest of your damned life.

You collected your thoughts as you downed a glass of water, throwing back two ibuprofens with the last chug for good measure, before finding your way back to the living room. Eddie was on his side on the long side of the L-shaped couch, leaving the shorter side for you to sleep on. His eyes were closed as you laid down with your feet next to his own, but you knew he wasn’t asleep yet.

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” you heard through the darkness after turning off the table lamp once you were settled.

“I know.” you sigh in return, staring up at the ceiling that was only lit by the streetlights flowing in from outside. “I just don’t want to live like this forever, I–I can’t keep being the secret that Steve is too embarrassed to talk about.”

“He’s not embarrassed of you,” Eddie said, voice barely above a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear, “he’s just afraid of fucking everything up even more than he already has.”

If only he could say that to my face, then maybe I’d believe it, you thought to yourself, chest tightening at just the thought of the brown-eyed boy who was fast asleep upstairs.

You don’t reply to Eddie, unsure of what to say back, unsure of what you could squeak out without breaking down.

“Goodnight, Eds,” is all you say in return, though you know you won’t be getting any sleep.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

—————————

After falling asleep for all of fifty minutes around 5 in the morning, you decided you had to leave.

The entirety of the almost four hours you laid on Steve’s couch consisted of staring at the ceiling and fighting off tears while thinking about how you regretted everything you said and did over the last twelve hours.

Coming to the Harrington house was a mistake, even stepping foot back in Hawkins was feeling like a mistake at this point.

The only words repeating in your mind were This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything.

You eventually had enough of the self-loathing and inability to sleep, so it was time to go. It was time to hastily change out of the pajamas that smelled too much like the boy you loved too hard, and time to go collapse in your own bed. There was no telling if you’d actually fall asleep once you made it there, but that was beside the point.

It was when you finally made it back to your parent’s house, to your childhood bedroom, that you swore that you wouldn’t see Steve Harrington again for the rest of Thanksgiving break, and hopefully would avoid seeing him again for a long while, for the sake of saving yourself from another heartbreak.

---------

tags: @carinacassiopeiae

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stevis writes #ttds*

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babydollmarauders · 1 year ago

Text

OUT — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which everyone has been wondering about the hair tie on Jack’s wrist, and they finally get the answers they were looking for

notes: THANK YOU MADDY ( @thatintrovertedwriter ) FOR THIS IDEA!!! I’M OBSESSED WITH IT!! not proofread and written while heavily sleep deprived

a relationship was never part of my intentions when i accepted my job offer.

in fact, any sort of love was pushed to the far corners of my mind. my focus was on showing everyone that not only men can be equipment managers in the NHL.

i had gone through so much rejection. countless teams citing that they decided to go in a different direction, and hiring a male for the job instead; and though most of the staff would try to deny that my gender was a part of it, there was always that one guy that had no problem with admitting they didn’t believe that a woman had any place in the NHL.

as if the job was hard. as if i couldn’t hand players sticks just as well as any man could.

but then the New Jersey Devils came into play. they had heard some talk about me and were the first team to reach out to me. they offered me the job, and i eagerly accepted. i felt i had something to prove. my gender doesn’t diminish the performance of my job.

so most of the 2022-23 season, i put all my focus into my job. i was amicable with the players, making sure i knew any superstitions or things i shouldn’t do with their equipment, but i never let it pass into any real level of friendship.

and then Jack Hughes happened.

when he got injured and had to sit out for a few games, i was put in charge of keeping him company. for four games my job description changed from handing players new sticks, to babysitting a twenty-one year old, and i wasn’t happy in the slightest.

it felt insulting, and apparently Jack felt the same way. somehow in those four games, we went from sitting across the suite from each other, to bonding over how stupid it was that i couldn’t do my actual job, to forming a friendship.

and in a matter of weeks, our friendship blossomed into something more.

it started with him coming back to my apartment after rough games, watching movies and letting off steam by joking around and playing drinking games. then along the way, we stumbled into bed. one hookup turned into two, which turned into another, which turned into a date, and finally by the end of the season, he was asking me to be his girlfriend.

it took me a week to finally tell him yes. an entire week of struggling with the decision. wondering if, if i start a real relationship with this player, am i proving all those men who told me i had no place in the NHL, right? but ultimately, i decided that my happiness was worth more than someone’s opinion of me, and i told him yes.

***

jackhughes

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subbanator 🚀

user83 is he wearing… a pink hair tie on his wrist?

user45 where?

user83 it’s on the same wrist with his bracelets

user16 omg you’re right

user02 is his hair even long enough to put up?

user77 @/user02 apparently

user91 what if it’s a girlfriends? oh my god

brendan.brisson Same time next year

***

i’m running late.

i’m running late and i’m rushing.

i’m running late, i’m rushing, and i’m contemplating breaking all rules of the road to arrive to work on time.

nothing is going right for me today.

i was supposed to have the morning off, so i didn’t set an alarm, but then i woke up to find six missed calls from my boss and a text asking if i could come help get equipment ready for practice because one of the other equipment managers came down with the flu.

then, i had to deal with getting yelled at because i didn’t have my ringer on and therefore, woke up after practice ended and didn’t come in and help.

then, i tipped over my brand new bottle of cold brew and had to spend almost an hour mopping my kitchen floor and wiping down the counters to get rid of the stickiness.

then, at the last minute as i was stepping out the door to head to the arena, my hair tie broke. and now i’ve spent the last fifteen minutes scouring my apartment for a new one, only to come to the conclusion that i have to leave now or else risk being yelled at for a second time today.

i give up entirely on my search for a hair tie, accepting my fate of wearing my hair down and rushing out of my apartment so fast that i almost forget to lock up behind me.

when i finally make it to Prudential Center, i’m able to clock in just before i’d be considered late, and i have absolutely no extra time to search for my boyfriend amidst the chaos of the season opener.

instead, i set off straight to the equipment area, working in tandem with my colleagues to make sure every players gloves, pads, and everything in between is ready, before i put each players gear into their respective locker room stalls.

i stack pucks in a high pyramid at the bench, ready for warm-ups, and line sticks up against the glass behind the bench, all set to be handed out when needed.

amongst the frantic running around the arena and getting things ready, i lose track of how many times i’m adjusting my hair; flipping it over my shoulder and tugging it out of my face.

finally, i get a split second to breathe, pulling my hair up in a makeshift ponytail with my hands as i stand outside the locker room, on standby in case any of the players need me.

“hey.” i instinctively drop my hands at the sound of someone talking, my shirt falling back down to cover the sliver of my abdomen that had shown when they were raised.

at the sight of my boyfriend, i sigh in relief, his chuckle reaching my ears as his arms snake around my waist.

“i scare ya?” Jack teases.

his helmet hits against my back, as he holds it in one hand. he’s all geared up, ready to hit the ice for the first game of the season, and oddly enough, i can’t help finding it incredibly attractive.

“just a little.” i huff, and a wide grin spreads across his lips. i smack his chest, but all that it hurts is his padding. “don’t be mean! i’ve had a bad day.”

his smile drops into an exaggerated pout, and he leans down to press a kiss to my lips.

“i’m sorry, baby.” i hum in acknowledgment, waving it off when he asks if i’d like to rant.

“no, it’s okay. i’ll rant later.” i assure him. “after you win your game.”

“our game.” he states, and i roll my eyes.

he’s made sure to never let me forget how much work i put into the team’s equipment and gear. citing that they wouldn’t be able to win without my help.

in his eyes, it’s as much my wins and losses as it is his.

“right.” i nod, patting his shoulders. “in that case, i’m gonna be very upset if you lose our game.”

his head tips back, laughter pouring past his lips, and it sounds like a melody in my ears.

“i’m confident. we’ll win this game.” he assures me, finally letting go of my waist and backing up. “if we don’t, you and i will never hear the end of it from Larks.”

ahh yes, Dylan Larkin. the Red Wings captain and Jack’s friend, whom i met over the summer while visiting Jack at his lake house.

“go!” i shoo my boyfriend off as the rest of his teammates begin pouring out of the locker room, heading off to line up, ready to hit the ice for warm-ups.

waving to the guys, who smile back at me in return, i head out to behind the bench.

as the guys warm up, i double check the bench stock of smelling salts, tums, stick tape, skate blades, and whatever else the guys may need during the game, before standing idly by.

finally, the game is underway, seven minutes left in the second period, and my boyfriend has already gotten a penalty in first for ‘roughing’.

i’m watching my boyfriend skate around the ice as i tend to his teammates, anxiously holding my breath as the clock winds down.

Jack zips across the ice, and i’m gnawing at my lip as he gains control of the puck. but before i know it, he’s just scored his first goal of the season.

a small smile splays across my lips, attempting to contain my excitement as he skates past the bench, bumping fists with his elated teammates before taking another lap around the ice.

Luke turns his head to grin at me, but he’s sidetracked as i’m interrupted by a teammate.

“y/n, can i get some salts?” Timo asks, and i nod, spinning around to grab some, my hair whipping in my face as i do so.

i let out a frustrated groan, turning back around to hand the little packet of smelling salts to number 28.

“you okay?” Timo questions, his brows threading together and i nod.

“it’s my damn hair.” i huff as he moves down on the bench, making room for my boyfriend and his line mates who now join on the bench. “i usually wear it up, but my hair tie broke and it’s getting on my nerves.”

wordlessly, Jack absentmindedly sheds his gloves off, pulling something from his wrist before holding it out to me where i stand directly behind him.

my lips part in surprise as my eyes lock on the pink hair tie that’s pinched between his index finger and thumb.

my hair tie.

“oh.” i breathe out, plucking the hair tie from his grasp. i smile, immediately pulling my hair up into a high ponytail. “thank you, love.”

he turns his head just enough to spot me, beaming back at me for a moment before turning back to focus back on the game that’s about to restart.

i lean forward a little, my hand lightly resting against the padding on his back, but he must feel the slight pressure because he leans back a little to show me he’s listening to what i have to say next.

“congratulations, babe. i’m proud of you.” i speak lowly, only for him to hear, before i stand back again, as though the interaction never happened. both of us focusing back on the game that takes place in front of us.

***

Jack lays beside me in my bed, absentmindedly scrolling through his social media, nodding along as i rant about my day.

“…but seeing you in the box was a plus.” i finish off my long winded ramble, effectively gaining his attention back at my teasing.

he locks his phone, tossing it to the side as he looks over at me.

“what was that?” he asks mockingly, raising an eyebrow. but before i can repeat myself, his fingers are working against the bare skin of my stomach.

my abdomen tightens as i laugh, squirming and trying to get away from his touch.

“stop!” i cackle, attempting and failing to push his hands away as he tickles me.

“no, say that again!” he chuckles, maneuvering his body now to straddle my legs so that i can’t run away, even if i wanted to. i shake my head wildly. “say it again! what was that? i don’t think i heard you right! cause it sounded like you just said the highlight of your day was seeing me get penalties!”

“that’s not true!” i squeal and he momentarily ceases his attack, tilting his ear towards me as if he’s listening closer.

“i said they were just pluses.” i defend myself, quickly following up, “the highlight of my day was finding out you wear my hair tie on your wrist.”

he looks down at me with a smirk, obviously quite proud of himself.

“stole that from your apartment.” he announces with pride.

“when?” i laugh, reaching up to cup the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to mine.

his hands now rest on either side of my head, holding himself up.

“the second time we hooked up.” he murmurs, dipping down to press a kiss to my lips. “you had complained that day when you forgot you hair tie at home. i never wanted you to be uncomfortable again, so i took one when i left here that night.”

i blink back at him in surprise, my heart thumping loudly in my chest, whooshing in my ears.

“are you telling me, you’ve been wearing that hair tie on your wrist, for the past seven months, just in case i ever needed it?” i ask.

“mhm.” he hums, his nose nudging against mine as he nods, the corners of his lips quirking up in a soft smile.

“i’m so in love with you.” i whisper, pulling him down to capture his lips in a kiss.

his lips slot against mine, his tongue slipping in to tangle with mine in a deep and sultry kiss, before he pulls away.

“oh good, because apparently our interaction tonight on the bench?” he pauses and i furrow my brows, nodding for him to continue. “yeah, apparently that happened while the camera was on me.”

a gasp slips past my lips, and he cringes slightly, nodding his head.

“yeah, we’ve been outted.”

we both let that sink in for a moment, pondering what our relationship will be like now that everyone knows. fans certainly analyzing our every move now.

but despite that, we can finally go on dates in public, and post each other on our social medias without panicking that we may have accidentally posted on our public stories instead of our close friends ones.

“i think i can live with that.” i finally break the silence, and he grins.

“yeah?” he questions, pressing a kiss against my lips, and i nod against him.

“yeah.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3

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miley1442111 · 8 months ago

Note

hi!!! can you do something with aaron, like a continuation of unfair with the other episode? like reader's drives the ambulance instead of Derek and reader and Aaron have a moment in the hospital?

love your writing, thank youuuuu!!!!

i love these two episodes, yes! thank u for requesting <3

unfair part 2- a.hotchner

a/n: this wasn't intended for a fem or male reader so imagine what you like :)))))))))))))) this is major spoilers for season 3 episode 20 and season 4 episode 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

summary: the bombs started and you need to do something about it.

pairings: aaronhotchner x reader, platonic!BAUteam x reader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, descriptions of harm to reader, harm to others, descriptions of bombings, descriptions of pain, mentions of guns and knives, descriptions of wounds, mentions of hospitals, mentions of scars, mentions of insecurity around scars, mentions of death + more

Part 1

The blast was loud. So fucking loud. You were shot back at least 10 feet? You couldn’t tell. You couldn’t see Aaron, nor could you see Kate. It all happened so quickly. You stood up, looking around for him, for anyone. You stared at the burning car, seeing a figure, when your ears finally focused in.

“Y/n?! Y/n?!” Aaron screamed. “Kate?! Y/n?!”

“Aaron?!” You shouted back, limping towards him. His head was cut and he was limping too.

“Oh god,” he sighed, breath laboured. “You’re alive.” He pulled you close and a piercing pain in your shoulder made you scream and push him off you. “Y/N?!”

“M-my shoulder,” you whimpered, turning to let him look.

“Oh god,” he breathed out, low enough that if he wasn’t right behind you, you wouldn’t have heard.

“Is it- I don’t want to know. Where’s Kate?” you decided.

“I thought she’d be with you?”

You stared at each other then started frantically looking around, finally spotting her up the road.

“Kate!” You screamed. She was awake, bleeding out, but awake. You rushed to her side. “Kate!”

“Y/n, where’s Aaron?”

“He’s over there, w-with someone, we’re going to get you help-”

“Why are you bleeding?”

“We got hit, the blast from the car, we’re getting you help don’t worry- stay with me,” you explained. “Aaron!” you screamed. “We need to find the bleeding!”

Aaron came running over, a boy beside him. “Flip her on her side!”

You did as he asked and found her back a bloody mess. You found the bleed and plugged it with your finger.

“No one’s coming,” Kate muttered. “Orders. 1st responders are the second wave, remember?”

“Aaron go get someone from that front line now,” you ordered.

“I can’t leave you here-”

“Now!” You shouted. “Go Aaron!” He ran off, towards the frontline. Derek came back, ready to help.

“What’s going on?” he asked, a hand on your arm.

“We’ll need to move her if Aaron can’t get anyone over, Derek, she’ll die if we don't do something.”

You felt helpless, and trapped. Derek got a phone call and picked up. “What?”

You quirked an eyebrow up, a look of startled confusion gracing your face.

“You’re sure?” he asked. “The kid’s our bomber.”

You wave him off and he starts chasing him down the block. After what felt like hours, someone finally came to help, an ambulance from behind you. The paramedic patched her up with your help, and you opened the ambulance, ready to get the gurney and help Kate. You sat in the back, Kate awake as the paramedic drove.

“Where are we going?” You shouted.

“Nearest hospital, don’t worry we’ll get to her in time.”

You started looking around the back as Kate groaned in pain.

“W-what should I give her? I’ve done courses in administering medication, I-I’m certified,” you assured him.

“Wait ‘till the hospital,” he said calmly. “We’re two minutes out.”

You nodded, then started looking around for something, for anything. And that's when you saw it. The bomb under the bed. You stifled your gasp as you met a secret service checkpoint. You grabbed a piece of paper from your pocket and a pen and started writing.

“This hospital is closed, go to Lincoln instead,” the Secret Service Agent explained.

“I’m SSA Y/l/n, please, she won’t make it to the next hospital!”

"Credentials?" He asked and you pulled it out of your pocket and he waved you on. You opened the door just enough to shove your note out and you dropped it, praying someone would find it. You stayed with Kate as they brought her into surgery and a nurse came up to you.

“You need to lie down, follow me-”

“There’s a bomb in this building,” you whispered and she almost screamed but you put a hand against her mouth to stop her. “Start evac,” you flashed your badge and she nodded, you grabbed your gun from your holster and started to try and find the paramedic. Your adrenaline was wearing off and you could feel all of the pain in your shoulder. You looked as much as you could and saw a large piece of shrapnel in your shoulder, you let out a gasp but persevered. You caught sight of him in a long corridor, going towards the elevators. You followed him down to the ambulance, pointing the gun at his head. “Stop what you’re doing.” But the bomb was already online. You pulled the trigger, aiming at his shoulder, immobilising him, then searched him, finding the phone.You pulled out your own phone and tried multiple people on the team, Garcia, Morgan, Rossi, Prentiss, hell, even Hotch despite knowing he wouldn’t answer. The paramedic gained back enough strength to stab you in the leg and make you drop the phone. He grabbed it and started running.

You called Spencer on your phone, praying he would pick up.

“Y/n? Are you ok?” he asked, frantic.

“I had the bomer, I shot him in the shoulder but he got away. The bombs online and he has the phone, get Garcia to block the signals for as long as she can.”

You hung up and mustered all the strength you still had in you and got up, you ripped your shirt and wrapped it around the wound in your leg, adrenaline kicking in once again. You got in the driver’s seat, thankfully the keys were in the ignition and you started the ambulance, then called Garcia.

“Hey, what can I do?” she asked.

“Garcia I need you to track the ambulance I’m in,” you said, out of breath. “Then tell me where I can drive where there’s no civilians around.”

“What are you doing?” she asked, terror clear in her tone.

“My job, now do yours,” you ordered and started driving.

“Head north, floor it, I’ll tell you when to turn,” she sighed.

As you drove you thought about your life. Living with your family as a child, moving to college, finding your life-long friends, meeting exes, all of your firsts in life, joining the FBI, joining the BAU, meeting all the amazing team, meeting Aaron, meeting Jack just a few months ago, looking at houses with Aaron.

All of it was so special.

“How long is left on the signal blocking?” You asked, driving through traffic at dangerous speeds.

“35 seconds,” Garcia said. “Turn left now!”

You obliged and saw the open green up ahead. You floored it, jumping out the second you drove over grass. The ambulance continued on, exploding around 20 metres away.

“Y/n?!” Garcia screamed down the line. “Y/n?!”

“Call an ambulance to where I am please, blast happened, I wasn’t in it, I just have fucking shrapnle in my shoulder that I would really like to get out and a stab wound in my thigh that’s being held together with a scrap of my shirt.”

“Ok, headed your way now,” she sighed in relief.

“I love you Pen,” you sighed, relieved that all this was over, as you sat down on the grass.

“I’m mad at you,” she sighed and ended the call. You chuckled to yourself as you heard the sirens, then finally allowed yourself to pass out.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You woke up in a hospital bed, alone. You pressed the red call button, from the closed window you assumed it was the middle of night.

“Good morning, or should I say good evening?” she smiled as she walked in. “You have some people to see you, am I allowed to let them in?” You nodded. “No hugs or anything strenuous, you’ll rip your stitches.” You nodded again, showing her you understood. You left and behind her, Aaron, Spencer, Derek, Emily, Penelope, Jj, and Rossi came in. Derek was first to try to hug you but the nurse scolded him.

“How long was I asleep for?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

“A day,” Spencer answered.

“Oh. Was Kate ok?”

“She didn’t make it,” Derek sighed.

“Shit,” you stated.

“What you did was really brave,” Jj smiled. “We’re all really proud of you.”

You smiled at her comment but started tearing up. It was an awful experience. You didn’t feel like a hero. You felt like shit. Your body and mind hurt. “Can you… do you guys mind if it’s just me and Aaron for a bit? It’s just a bit much,” you explained and they nodded and left.

“Honey, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” he sighed, pulling a chair up beside you and holding your hand as you started to cry. Every breath brought another wave of pain from your shoulder. He moved to hold you and leaned into his touch, sobbing into his chest. You sat there like that for at least an hour, sobbing until you couldn’t anymore.

“I fucking hate this job,” you sighed after a long silence.

“I understand,” he sighed, kissing the top of your head. “Promise me you’ll never do something like this again?”

“I promise to never be in the fucking field again,” you sighed and he pulled back.

“You mean that?”

“Maybe in a while, but I’ll need some time just in the office. I have a psychology degree and 2 phDs I’m sure a department will want me. This job… it takes too much.”

“Ok honey, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that you had to do this.”

“I’m sorry I did this,” you sighed.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like crap. The wounds and stuff… I’ll be covered in scars,” you mumbled. “You won’t want me then,” you joked, trying to hide the genuine fear you had about this.

“I’ll always want you,” he smiled, his true genuine answer.

“You’re just saying that,” you pushed, holding his hand.

“No I’m not,” he said, seriously. “I love you, all of you. All of you, forever.”

“Promise?” You said.

“Promise,” he kissed you tentatively, careful of your pain and fragility.

"I just want to get home. Have you called Jack yet?"

"He knows you won't be able for playing for a while. He said he wants to give you a hug."

You chuckled and leaned into Aaron again. You knew that despite the pain, scars, and anything else on the horizon, you’d be ok, you’d be with Aaron, the team, and Jack.

#aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner fluff #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #bau imagine #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fanfic

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dobrikobx · 4 months ago

Text

Silver Jewelry || Tyler Owens

A/N: Hi so it’s been a while since I wrote a fanfic so I really hope you all enjoy!! I have seen twister 4 times now and physically can’t stop thinking about Tyler Owens.

Inspo for this fic came from a Tiktok poem from the account raegan entitled “it’s just the little things”

pairings: Tyler x reader and asshole Scott x reader

Warnings: Scott as mentioned is an ass to the reader at times, toxic relationship (with Scott), no y/n

summary: You are dating Scott who doesn’t treat you right.

————

“Scott look at how pretty this is.”

you proudly hold up a beautiful gold necklace

“yeah babe real cute”

he said not really looking. You shrug and turn back to the sales lady

“I think it’s real pretty, honey”

You turn and see tyler looking at the necklace

“T when did you get here?”

You throw your arms around his neck

“Oh a little while ago. I came to get some food for me and the crew, we set up at the old motel if you two want to come by and see everyone”

“Yes we will be there right after we finish here. Right Scott?”

Scott walked up holing his hand out for Tyler to shake which they did even if they glared at each other.

“Sure baby, if you want. We will grab something to eat and head over, Owens”

And that’s exactly what you two did. you were having a great time catching up. It had been since last tornado season that you had seen everyone. You and Lily were chatting about her new girlfriend and how you and Scott were talking about moving in together when your phone went off.

“Shut up!”

you scream everyone turned to look at you

“What? What?”

Lily said slightly panicking you turn your phone to her so she can see that your favorite artist just announced a new album coming out next week. You were so excited and couldn’t stop thinking about it or talking about it.

“Oh my God Lily I can’t wait for it to come out I’m going to stay up all night to listen to it! If you want to you can totally jo-“

“Baby, I don’t think Lily is interested. Maybe you should chill a bit. Nobody really likes their music here.”

You start to blush. After being together for almost 3 years you shouldn’t be surprised by Scott’s lack of concern about things you care deeply about and it didn’t necessarily surprise you but that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt when he brushed you off.

“I’m sorry Lily. Sorry guys, I guess I just got carried away”

Lily’s face scrunched up but before she could say anything Tyler cut in.

“Well I won’t speak on Lily’s behalf, however Boone and I happen to love that artist and I would be more than happy to have a listening party for the new album”

“Tyler it’s fine you don’t have to pretend to like their music”

You look and the ground more embarrassed than before.

“I am not pretending I love their music I own every album”

you slowly lift your head and see him looking back at you with so much sincerity you had to believe him.

“Okay then,if your sure, Thursday night”

you smile at him

“Sounds like a plan we can have it in my room so your boyfriend won’t be a party pooper”

He says giving Scott a go to hell look

After that everyone went back to their conversations. Scott came up to you and grabbed your arm.

“I got us a room here. Ready to turn in?”

You nod and say goodnight to your friends

“What the hell was that?”

Scott said the second your door closed

“What are you talking about?”

“You. Flirting with Tyler”

You scoff

“I was not flirting with Tyler! I agreed to hang out with my FRIEND. Besides it’s not like you wanted to listen to their new album anyways you can’t stand their music Scott so if anything I did you a favor your welcome.”

“You never asked me to listen”

“What are you talking about! Every single time I play their music you complain about how much you hate it and how insufferable it is. This way you won’t have to listen to it and I can enjoy it. If you really want to join, you can. I’m sorry I assumed you wouldn’t want to.”

“That’s okay. I don’t want to intrude”

“No please, Scott, baby, I want you to come”

you wrap your arms around his waist

“Okay if you really want me to come. I guess I will.”

he kisses your forehead

“I really do. I’m sorry again for assuming you wouldn’t want to join”

“Already forgotten let’s go to bed.”

Thursday night came and went and besides a few complaints from Scott and Tyler glaring at him through most the album you guys had a fun night.

“Javi!”

“Hey girl”

He says wrapping you up in a hug

“Just the guy I wanted to see I need your help with Scott’s anniversary present”

“I didn’t think it was here already?”

Javi asked confused

“Well I mean it’s not for a few months but, you know… I want to really make it special.”

“Alright then let’s see what we can do”

After months of anguishing over the perfect presents for Scott you had everything picked out and ready. Now if only you could shut your brain off and go to sleep before you had to wake up to see Scott off before he went chasing tomorrow.

Three years, three long years, with him. You laid awake staring at the ceiling you and Scott had been together three years it was officially your anniversary as of 25 minutes ago. You loved him you were sure about that. But, were you happy. For the last two years you wondered this… was it a coincidence that these thoughts doubled during tornado season when you inevitably ran into Tyler. No probably not.

Tyler was sweet and kind and caring. He showed you kindness even when your boyfriend wouldn’t. But you did love Scott. Plus, Tyler he is just your friend. That’s all you two would ever be.

You rolled over and looked at Scott. You loved him. That was enough it had to be. Your heart sank as you kissed his cheek and cuddled into his chest

“i love you”

you whispered even though you knew he couldn’t hear you

The next morning you woke up to kisses all over your face. You let out a giggle.

“Scott”

“Happy anniversary, baby”

you open your eyes and smile and stroke his cheek

“Happy anniversary, my love”

“Here I want you to open your present first.”

He said handing you a small blue box. You open the box to see the necklace you had shown him that day in the store only in silver.

“Oh.”

you tried to muster all you could to put a smile on your face

“I love it. Will you put it on me?”

“Of course, baby”

You look yourself in the mirror trying not to cry as Scott clasps the necklace. It’s not a big deal it’s just a necklace.

“Okay so what did you get me”

“Oh right let me grab it”

You go to your bag and grab the box of items that you had picked out making sure Scott would love.

“Wow babe these are perfect how did i get so lucky?”

you smile as he kisses you

“I’m going to hop in the shower before breakfast”

You say as you smile sadly at him

“Okay we’re stuck with everyone for breakfast since I have to go chasing today but tonight it’s me and you baby. I’m going to head down see you there”

you give him a closed lip smile and nod still fighting the tears.

you turn on the shower and look yourself in the mirror

“pull yourself together”

you say

“It’s a stupid necklace one that you said you wanted at least he took notice of the style”

That’s when the tears started and they didn’t stop. You got in the shower hoping that may help ease the nerves. When that didn’t seem to help you get out and get ready for the day making sure your necklace is out so Scott can see. Putting on a smile you walk to the cafe that is next to the motel.

You greet everyone with a smile and slide in the booth next to Scott

“I already ordered for you hope you don’t mind”

he said. you shook your head and grabbed his hand

“Three years it’s a big one Scott already bragged about his gifts you got him. So what did he get you.”

Lily asked excitedly

“Oh this necklace I wanted. Isn’t it beautiful”

You hold the necklace out for them to admire. They all admire it all but Tyler.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear silver before.”

He says everyone turned and looked at you

“Um”

Suddenly the room was too small.

“Well I do sometimes. I’m actually not hungry so I think I’m gonna run to town and grab some stuff for tonight”

You get out of the booth and start to out the door to your car.

“Wait!”

Tyler.

“I really need to go T”

You had to go before he caught you crying. He would think you were stupid for crying over something so small.

“No hold it. Why are you upset?”

“I’m not”

“You are. I know you.”

“Just leave it, Tyler”

“No I can’t keep going on leaving it. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I love him Tyler”

“I don’t think you do”

“I do.”

“Look me in the eye and say that and maybe I’ll believe it. I know you, I know you aren’t happy. I have seen you happy. And now might not be the right moment but I know I could make you happier than he ever has if you just give me the chance. He doesn’t even know you sweetheart. You’ve been together three years and he doesn’t even know you wear gold jewelry. What else doesn’t he know if he doesn’t even know that basic piece of information? I I know I might not know everything but, I know more than that. I know that if you gave me a shot baby, you’d be happier in a day than he’s made you the entire three years you’ve been together”

You look him in the the eyes

“Ty-Tyler”

You don’t even begin to know what to say but the tears you’ve been holding back begin streaming down your face. Tyler grabs you and pulls you against his chest. That’s when Scott decides to come out the cafe.

“What’s up? Owens why is she crying?”

He said irritated. You pull back from Tyler mascara running down your face.

“I think we need to talk. Lets go upstairs”

You two head back up to your room

“I I can’t do this anymore Scott.”

“Why it’s our anniversary”

“I know but, who is my favorite tv character?”

“I I don’t k-“

“What is my favorite show? movie? book? Hell, what’s my favorite snack?”

He just looks at you

“Nothing Scott really? We have been together three years and you can’t answer those basic questions. You got me silver jewelry for crying out loud.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t wear silver Scott. Always gold. Just ignore the fact that we have seen each other most days these three years. We have plenty photos together I showed you the exact one I wanted. Hell Lily is right down stairs you could have asked her. I’m sorry I just I can’t do this anymore”

“But I love you”

“I know you think you love me and maybe you do but you don’t like me. If you did, you would know what I like you wouldn’t get annoyed by all my quirks. I thought I loved you, Scott and I’m sorry to both of us for me not realizing what we have isn’t love at least not the love we should have for each other.”

“That’s it. Three years”

“Three years that I wasn’t appreciated. I just I’m sorry Scott I really am. I’ll come grab my stuff after you leave”

You walk out your motel room

“Hey darlin’ want to get out of here?”

You look over at Tyler and smile

“Absolutely”

You climb into the truck after driving for a while he pulls into a field

“Did you mean all of that stuff you said at the motel?”

“Of course, honey. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. How did you feel about what I said? I know you just broke up with Sir Dick Wad-“

“Tyler”

You give him a pointed look

“Right sorry. I know you just broke up with Scott but I’m crazy about you”

He pushes your hair behind your ear

“I’m crazy about you too Tyler. So much so that I am in a random field in the middle of tornado alley.”

Tyler leaned over giving you plenty of time to pull away. you close your eyes and push you lips against his.

———————

I hope this wasn’t bad and I hope you enjoyed.

#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #twister fanfic #tyler owens fanfiction #twister fanfiction #tyler owens x you

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hauntedrain · 11 months ago

Text

New Year, New me | Charles Leclerc x fem! reader |

Summary: Charles cares about your opinions, even when it comes down to a new haircut.

A/N: so of course this is about his new haircut, and personally I like it <3 so I based a lil something off of it. Also this is badly written cuz I was half asleep writing it but I hope you like it.

Warnings: the normal; not edited, really short, more of a Drabble tbh (500 words).

He was scared—most definitely scared. He liked the haircut—a new change for the off-season—but nonetheless, he was scared. He didn’t tell you about his plans for his haircut; he didn't even bring it up that he’s going to get one. So on his way back to the apartment, he was stressed. Would you like it? Hate it? wish it was different?

He knows you would never downright say you hated it, disliked it, or even commented on it if he enjoyed it. But he wanted your opinion; he knew how much you liked his hair before, and he’s seen a lot of stuff on social media about people's significant others getting a haircut and not liking it or them the same as before. So now that he was walking to the apartment he was preparing for the worst.

“Ma chérie, are you there?” He called out while closing the front door and facing an empty entryway and living space.

“I'm over in the room, Char!” You called out.

He put down the few small bags he had in his hand along with his keys as he walked over to your shared bedroom. He didn’t initially see you as he walked into the bedroom, but once he noticed the lights on in the bathroom and the slightly open door, he found where you were. He moved over and slowly opened the door, and he was met with you putting on what he assumes is a form of lipgloss or lipstick. You didn’t immediately notice him as you were too focused on your makeup; however, once you did, you turned around and hugged him, not noticing immediately the major change he made to his hair. He nuzzled into your neck and shoulder while returning the hug. You guys stayed like that for a bit until he pulled back a bit, looking down at you.

"Oh my god, you cut your hair!” You said this while looking up at him and finally noticing it. You ran your hands through the top part of it that was still fluffy while smiling a goofy but surprised smile.

“Yeah, do you like it?” He asked sheepishly while holding you.

“It’s pretty cute, you didn’t tell me you were gonna cut it. Was it a spring of the moment type thing?” You asked pulling him over to sit on the bed while you stand in front of him.

“I mean yeah, kinda. I wanted something new for the new year.”

“You took ‘new year, new me' seriously huh?” You said smiling at him while running your hands through his hair again. “It’s pretty though.”

“Thank you, ma chérie. I was worried you wouldn’t like it.” He said messing with the bracelets he was wearing. “But I’m glad you do. Now we just have to see what the fans think of it.”

“Bet they’ll like it, for the most part.” You said slightly laughing while going back to get ready for the event later that evening.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagine #drabble #formula 1 #formula one fanfiction #formula one x reader #formula one x you #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #short fanfic #one shot #fluff

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lloydskywalkers · 2 months ago

Text

moats and boats and waterfalls

Read on AO3

Post-Crystalized — after surviving apocalypse no. 2 (possibly 3, currently under debate) the ninja now face the unspeakable horrors of budgeting.

(Years late to the Crystalized party but here's part one of my seven billion fanfics about this season because there are Thoughts to be had about this one)

As it turns out, rebuilding a monastery is a whole lot more trouble than rebuilding the Bounty for the eightieth time.

And by trouble, Cole means incredibly expensive.

“Re-installing central heating costs what?!”

Kai’s horrified cry reverberates throughout the half-constructed monastery, the echo from the noticeably empty rooms only adding to insult.

Oh, what Cole would give to have his bed back.

“I guess we’ll have to use you during the winter,” Nya sighs, patting Kai on the back. “Lloyd, get ready to supercharge him.”

“Forget heating, do you know how much Wi-Fi costs?” Lloyd stares at the estimated summary like it’s personally kicked his pet. “Who even has that much money? God?”

“If god had money, he could’ve given Sensei Wu his inheritance and we’d all be loaded,” Jay mutters. “But noooo, ‘material possessions are the death of the soul’, blah blah blah, we’ll see whose soul is dead when the gas cuts out and he can’t make midnight tea anymore.”

“It does seem a bit extreme, looking at it all like this,” Zane remarks. Somewhat ironically, as he’s taken one look at the bill then wisely retreated across the room.

“Well, blowing up the entire monastery with us in it was extreme, so it figures repairs are just as bad,” Nya grumbles.

They all shift, the mood dampening at the reminder.

Lloyd opens his mouth. “I’m sor—”

“Do not,” Kai stabs a finger at him. “Even try.”

Lloyd slumps. “If I hadn’t gotten caught—”

“We all agreed to the plan, okay?” Cole says. “Also, no one knew we’d be sending you to Harumi, so the whole thing was doomed from the start.”

While he looks a bit miffed, Lloyd gives it up. Though perhaps that’s mostly in part because he desperately wants to avoid any more conversation about—

“So speaking of Harumi,” Jay starts.

Lloyd springs for the window.

Unfortunately for Lloyd, said window is currently boarded up by heavy-duty plywood, since quality window glass fell low on the list of priorities, which gives Kai plenty of time to tackle him before he can even raise his leg to kick it in.

“No!” Zane cries. “We can’t afford anymore plywood!”

“Or like, Band-Aids at bare minimum, so don’t you dare!” Nya adds.

“—overdramatic phase has gotta go, what are you, five — hey, no biting!”

Lloyd makes a muffled sound as he wrestles on the floor with Kai. Cole turns, very slowly, to glare at Jay.

“Oh come on, we were all thinking it,” Jay defends, reluctantly standing to help pry Lloyd from the floor. “Fine, hey, I promise we won’t talk about certain loser ex-princesses who are nice and cozy in their prison cells right now, okay? There, there, little gremlin, she can’t hurt you anymore—”

“I’ll bite you next,” Lloyd threatens, but he returns to his seat, wincing as Kai scuffs his hair.

“Turn Oni again, and that might be an actual threat.”

Lloyd startles terribly, staring at Kai with wide eyes. “That’s — not — I wouldn’t—”

“Kai,” Nya hisses.

“Woah, hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” Kai says quickly. “It’s supposed to be positive reinforcement! Easing it into a normal thing, y’know?”

Lloyd growls. “Nothing about this is a normal thing—”

“Except none of us are normal, so therefore it is,” Kai interrupts him smoothly. “Also we already loved you when you were a tiny demon, turning into a literal one is nothing. Give us some credit.”

Lloyd pulls his hood over his flaming face, thunking his head against the table. Kai pats him cheerfully on the shoulder.

“Additionally, unless we can swindle someone by selling Lloyd in his Oni form on the black market for cold cash before stealing him back, I don’t see how this helps matters.”

Zane finds himself on the receiving end of five blank stares. Lloyd, successfully having been pulled from his hood, whistles.

“I forget how evil you can be, sometimes.”

Kai gapes at him. “So that makes you feel better?”

“I mean, in terms of normalizing it—”

“Alright!” Cole slams his hands on the table, silencing them all. He glares them down. “Meeting room in five. We’re figuring out how to make this place livable if it kills us.”

There’s a brief silence, then Jay hesitantly raises his hand.

“Hey, so uh, we kinda don’t have a meeting room right now?”

Cole collapses on the table in despair.

---

Twenty minutes and one session of shoving chairs into what could have been the living room later — it’s hard to tell, with all the construction markings and plywood still up — they’ve kicked off the official first meeting of the Finish-Making-the-Monastery-Livable plan.

“Alright,” Lloyd announces, brushing his hands as he steps back from the chalkboard that may or may not have been stolen. “At the top of the list we have Wi-Fi, central air and heating, beds — huh, maybe those should go higher — running water, electricity — that one’s debatable, me and Jay can tag-team it if we get desperate — blankets-slash-pillows-slash-etcetera, stuff to cook with, actual food — y’know what, I’m putting that closer to the top—”

“So basically, we have nothing,” Cole says blankly.

Lloyd glances at the list, then to the sliver of chalk left in his hands. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Take the weaponry, sure, but all my albums?” Jay mourns. “I spent years collecting those.”

“I lost the blanket we stole from that super fancy apartment we lived in for like five minutes when Lloyd was a kid,” Kai sighs. “That thing literally made it through the apocalypse, just to bite it now.”

“Two apocalypses too many,” Nya says.

“Did the Preeminent count as an apocalypse? Like, a minor one?”

“Three apocalypses. It took three apocalypses to vaporize my closet,” Cole sinks lower in his seat. “Man, the hoodie you got me for my birthday was in there.”

“All of our photographs are lost, too.” Zane stares at his hands.

Lloyd murmurs something under his breath that sounds a lot like family pictures and figures.

The mood plummets a bit more, after that.

“Motherfu—”

“Alright, this isn’t helping,” Cole claps his hands. “We can all cry again later. Lloyd, overall mission status conclusion?”

“Well, like you said, we basically have nothing,” Lloyd sighs. “So unless Zane wants to stop chickening out and abandon his morals so we can just hack into everything and get it free, we need to find some way to pay for all this.”

“Again, I cannot hack in to rebuilding an entire cooling unit throughout the monastery, much less make the latest clothing line from Gucci materialize,” Zane says. Kai swears. “Also, that is called stealing.”

“You call it stealing, I call it a charitable donation,” Nya says. “I turned into the ocean for this city, the least they can do is cut me a check.”

“Besides, even if it is stealing, what are they gonna do, send us to jail again?” Jay scoffs.

Lloyd jabs the piece of chalk in his direction. “Don’t jinx us.”

“Too bad we wasted our chance at crime and didn’t even get rich,” Kai mutters. “All we got was Nya.”

He yelps as she punches him in the arm. “What, too soon?”

“You should be so lucky to have me,” she sniffs.

“Hey, but going on the donation thought train — do we know anyone who’s rich?” Jay asks. “Why don’t we have any rich friends?”

“Hey, you know what’s rich? That coming from the son of a billionaire.”

“Hey, you know what else got blown up? My inheritance!”

“Please, let it go,” Zane says. “We do have rich friends, I’ll remind you, we’re friends with actual monarchy. But we can’t exactly go and ask anyone else for money, since they all already helped out so much in getting the monastery rebuilt.”

There’s a moment of pensive silence. Lloyd draws a little sad face on the chalkboard next to ASK FOR DONATIONS.

“What if we just…sued Harumi,” Cole says. “Like, there’s gotta be some law that could work in our favor here.”

“I don’t think the court would go for that,” Lloyd mutters. “Since they’re all morally corrupt frauds who hate us.”

“Yeah! Down with the system!” Kai punches his fist in the air.

“Also, Harumi likely has very little in the way of money, either,” Zane says. “Considering she blew up any and all assets she might have had claim to.”

“Haha, what a loser,” Nya crows.

“What if we sued Garmadon?” Cole tries. “The courts have to hate him more than they hate us.”

Lloyd scowls, scrawling a large NO on the chalkboard. “Not worth the effort. Plus, I’m pretty sure he’s still couch-surfing at Vinny’s, which means also penniless.”

“We could sue Kalmaar,” Nya cracks her knuckles.

“Isn’t he dead?”

“Oh, yeah.” Nya looks disappointed.

“Did anyone survive that we can sue successfully?” Jay muses. “And actually get money out of?”

“Vangelis,” Cole snaps his fingers. “Wait. No, we ousted him from the throne, so he’s probably broke too.”

“Vangelis survived?”

As they dissolve into bickering over the status of enemies potentially living-or-dead, Kai squints at the chalkboard, where Lloyd is still scratching out letters despite having completely lost the room.

“We…are…fu—Lloyd!”

“Well it’s true,” Lloyd huffs, finishing off his message with a flourish. “Tada. There’s my grand plan.”

“That’s not a plan, it’s a pessimistic estimation at how things are gonna go.”

“It’s extremely rude language, is what it is! I thought we taught you better.”

Lloyd simply looks pleased with himself at having recaptured the room’s attention. It is, of course, then that Sensei Wu walks into that room. He stops, looking from where they’re all frozen in place, then to the chalkboard.

Lloyd pales.

Sensei Wu pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers and closes his eyes.

“My dearest nephew, you have three seconds to make that disappear, or I’ll be forced to—”

Lloyd springs for the chalkboard in record time, wiping frantically at his writing with the sleeve of his gi.

“People would kill for that thing, and here he’s using it as a chalkboard eraser,” Jay mutters.

It isn’t until later, when they’ve all retreated to the collective mass of blow-up mattress and borrowed blankets they’re calling a bedroom, that anyone breaches the topic again.

There’s a loud rustling as Cole turns over where he’s precariously shoved between Kai and Zane.

“…can we sue the mayor?”

There’s a noted pause of silence, only broken by the whirring of the cheap oscillating fan.

“You know,” Zane says slowly. “In terms of slander and defamation…”

An evil, sharp-toothed smile spreads across Lloyd’s face. “I like the sound of that.”

“Hey, let’s sue the new ninja, too,” Jay grins. “Can Pixal retroactively trademark our vibe?”

“You cannot sue them based on vibe appropriation.”

“Yeah, but I can sue them for impersonation.”

---

They cannot, as it turns out, sue the mayor, because legal work like that costs even more money.

They can, however, ruin his year by filing (and forging) every possible insurance claim under the sun, so they all walk out of the office a little more satisfied than before.

“I hope all your socks go missing in the laundry!” Nya yells toward the building as they hit the streets. “I hope you have a rock stuck in your shoe for the rest of your life! I hope you’re plagued with a mildly inconvenient headache every waking moment and never fully enjoy anything ever again!”

“Alright, alright, we’re getting looks,” Cole grabs her arm. “Let it go.”

“As much as I appreciate it, I am not going back to jail,” Jay shudders. “Twice was enough.”

Kai frowns. “Twice? When else did you get arrested?”

“We all did, re—” Jay cuts off, suddenly aware of the absolute daggers Nya is staring at him. “Uhhh…aw, snap, another mental breakdown, haha!”

“Is this the whole ‘we all have missing memories you guys are definitely hiding from us’ thing again? ‘Cause I swear—”

“I said I’m getting to it, it’s a really boring story anyways—”

“Didn’t you say you lost an eye—”

“Oh look, a window!”

This time, Jay is thwarted by Lloyd, who’s simply jumped out enough windows to recognize when someone’s about to try it themselves. Except Jay is aiming to jump inside a window this time, so they both go crashing into Pixal just as she joins them.

To her credit, she barely flinches. “I thought I heard clown noises nearby.”

Lloyd stares at her in such utter betrayal, the mental breakdown thing might become valid.

“Pixal,” Jay simply begs. “Please. Help your clowns scavenge our clown dinners.”

Pixel surveys them all, a fond smile tugging at her lips. “There is a nice pizza place down the block.”

The cheers she’s met with nearly succeeded at knocking her over where Jay failed.

Dinner that night comprises of actual, warm, take-out pizza, which nearly moves Cole to tears.

“Definitely changing the priorities order,�� Lloyd says blissfully through a mouthful of cheese. “Food goes at the top, no questions.”

“Seconded,” Kai mumbles.

“Thirded.”

“Fourthed.”

“I cannot believe, that after everything we’ve been through, we did not qualify for the post-apocalypse discount,” Zane bites out.

“Well,” Jay says brightly. “Pixal hacked the card reader, so technically we got a hundred percent discount.”

Zane stares at her, in equally utter betrayal. “Pixal?”

She shrugs. “They can try to send me to prison. They will fail.”

---

Two days later, Skylor cements herself as everybody’s most favorite person in the entire world by not only saving them from starvation by demanding they sit their butts down in the restaurant and eat for free, but also donating six pillows and a year’s worth of shampoo.

“I know it’s not a lot, but I’m on the lookout for more,” she tells them. “I’ve asked other people to help chip in, too, so hopefully that’ll make things a little easier.”

“Skylor,” Cole nearly sobs into his new, beautiful pillow. “If Kai doesn’t marry you, I will.”

“H-hey!”

“No marriage necessary,” she snorts. “Consider keeping you all fed my way of saying thanks.”

“But you already helped out with the monastery,” Nya says, around the same time the rest of them assure her there’s no need for thanks, despite the fact that no one has the slightest desire to relinquish their food.

“Fine, then,” Skyler huffs, her cheeks turning pink. “Make me say it out loud, will you — consider it my way of showing that I care about you all. Very much.”

“Aww,” Lloyd says.

Kai makes a face somewhere between melting and heart eyes.

“I hate all of you,” she mutters.

“We love you too, Skylor,” Cole grins.

“Hate you!”

Despite her words, they all leave with six boxes of leftovers and free dessert.

This, of course, brings another slightly-pressing issue to mind.

---

They end up getting a refrigerator for a steal of a bargain, which is probably again influenced by Pixal’s criminal extremely generous activity.

Given how enthusiastic they all are about getting it installed, Kai is half-expecting there to be no work left for him at all by the time he returns from the food run.

He’s…not entirely disappointed when he walks into the kitchen, though he is rather baffled.

The room freezes as if on record-scratch. Jay is perched on top of the counters, Lloyd has a sledgehammer raised halfway in the air, and Cole is on the ground beside the refrigerator crying.

“What?” Kai asks, blankly.

“The fridge…doesn’t fit…” Cole moans into the floor.

“We didn’t leave enough space between the cabinets,” Jay informs him through a mouthful of gummy worms. “So the door can’t open.”

Kai looks at Lloyd. “So the sledgehammer is for…?”

“DIY home improvement,” he shrugs.

“Huh.” Kai glances at the cabinets. “Put some safety goggles on first, okay?”

Lloyd only gets about two swings in before Zane descends with the all wrath of the Ice Emperor and adds to the tally of times-the- Green-Ninja-almost-met-his-doom, but it’s fun while it lasts.

They were ugly cabinets, anyways.

---

While his love for his family could potentially fuel a nuclear power plant, Kai does grow tired of being the living team space heater rather quickly.

The effort of keeping his power going all night just gets annoying (and exhausting) — so by the time he’s tagged in Lloyd to use his power to keep him going, they’re up to two moody ninja short on sleep, and no one wants to deal with that.

While they’ve scrounged up a few dollar-store quality blankets, Jay takes the opportunity to highlight his accomplishments in arts-and-crafts.

“You mean your mom’s accomplishments.”

“Hey, we made it together! It counts.”

The it in question quickly gains the name “god-awful-t-shirt-blanket” simply because the blinding combination of all their cast-off shirts sewn together is impressively terrible.

“I still think this is a waste of good clothes,” Kai grumbles. “It’s not like we have outfits to spare these days, you know.”

“Do you wanna keep heating the room at night or no?” Nya threatens.

Kai quickly shuts his mouth and returns to sewing Cole’s old plaid shirt to one of Jay’s neon blue shirts that features a dolphin printed in enough colors to kill a man.

“So, what do we think?” Lloyd steps back, wiping at his forehead with his arm as he surveys their masterpiece.

Staring at the multi-colored mess they’ve patched together into a quilt, Nya announces, “It’s the ugliest blanket I’ve ever seen.”

“Harsh.”

“Hey, we did our best!”

“See if I ever sew for you again,” Lloyd huffs.

“I didn’t say that was a bad thing,” Nya quickly interjects. “It looks a little like us!”

“Are you saying we’re ugly?!”

“Nya, no, our family genes are enough to carry us through this, I promise—”

---

They’re in the middle of figuring out how to steal Wi-Fi from the government when Tox drops by, Karloff in tow.

“You really…need…to get an elevator…or something,” she pants, red-faced and sweaty as she hauls several large bags behind her.

In contrast, Karloff looks unfazed, casually toting a hideously floral-patterned sofa over his shoulder.

“Skylor mentioned you need furniture, no?” he says. “It’s not much, but you need somewhere to sit.”

“Karloff,” Jay tells him, very seriously. “This is the most beautiful sofa I’ve ever seen.”

“Haha! Karloff is right once again,” he brags to Tox.

Tox stares at Jay in flabbergasted despair.

“You can’t put that in your home,” she mutters. “You can’t. It’s a crime against eyes everywhere.”

“Well, it’s better than no sofa, and we’re literally turning down nothing these days,” Nya says cheerfully. She leans over to peer at the bags Tox has managed to drag up. “Speaking of…?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tox heaves the bags in front of her. “Skylor said you guys needed help interior decorating? So I brought a couple rugs. She also mentioned something about the ugliest blanket she’s ever seen, so we called up some of the other Elemental Masters and got like, six or seven together. They’re not exactly works of art, but they’re okay?”

Kai tears open the first bag, his eyes lighting up. “They’re beautiful,” he whispers reverently. “Hey, guys, we got blankets! Dibs on the one with a wolf.”

“Oh, no, not that one, it’s from my awful middle school phase—”

“What do you mean, dibs, I want the wolf one!”

“Oh yeah? Down to fight for it?”

“You’re on. Training ground in five.”

“Absolutely not, we are not fighting over a blanket we’ve been so generously gifted,” Zane snaps, snagging Kai and Cole by their collars.

“Yeah, we also don’t really have a training ground anymore,” Lloyd says, half-buried in a blanket embroidered with countless bug-eyed fish. “It went ka-boom.”

Nya rubs her temples. “Zane?”

“Already factored into the expenses,” he sighs.

“Oh wow, you guys weren’t kidding,” Tox says. “Do you want, uh, like a keychain? I have some mints here too I can donate…man, Karloff, help me out!”

“Does the monastery need a metal helmet?”

“We’re really not that broke,” Nya says hastily, pushing away the offered mints. “But thanks.”

“Speak for yourself.” Lloyd snags the mints, clasping his hands together in prayer at Tox before slipping back into the emerging blanket battle.

Nya sighs. “Do you guys want tea? We’ve got three whole mugs, now.”

Tox glances from the other ninja, where Jay has been successfully rolled into a blanket burrito and is in potential danger of being rolled right down the mountain, to Karloff, who’s the reason said danger is potential.

“We can spare a minute, I guess.”

The t-shirt blanket is later relegated to the living room, where it lives as a throw blanket over Karloff’s floral sofa. They unanimously decide it’s the perfect home for it, and the only real critic is Skylor, who’s almost reduced to tears the next time she visits.

---

They celebrate their achievement of having a living room by all eating dinner on Karloff’s floral-patterned couch. This comes with a good deal of kicking and squirming and the tragic loss of Kai’s fortune cookie, but they make it work.

“This is kind of depressing, though. Sitting in the dark,” Nya remarks.

A muscle in Jay’s jaw twitches. “Well, maybe if someone hadn’t melted all our candles—”

“You were the one who had the brilliant idea of trying to barbecue with them, genius!” Kai snaps.

“It was a pretty spectacular fire,” Lloyd admits. Then, hastily, “In a really cool way!”

“Perhaps a lamp should go next on the list,” Zane says. “Rather than relying on Kai as our light.”

“Hey, I’m a great light,” Kai scowls. “I’m the light of your life. I could light this place up all day!”

“Yes, and I’m sure it would end similarly to the time you nearly burned down a building under the belief that you were achieving your true potential, but were, in fact, just dehydrated.”

Kai gapes at Zane in betrayal. “You said you’d take that to the grave!”

Zane carefully laces his fingers together. “Technically, I did.”

“No you didn’t!” Jay interjects. “We never buried you, so you never had a grave! Ha!”

Zane looks affronted. “I didn’t get a grave?”

“You got a statue!” Kai quickly consoles .

“Yeah, what’d you want us to do, pick your exploded pieces out of the street for half a year then toss ‘em in the ground?”

“Oh, as if that’s any worse than being left to pour your corpse out in cups of water.”

“It wasn’t my corpse, I was still alive!”

“You were the literal ocean. Fish swam in you.”

“Ew, does that mean—”

“Finish that sentence and I will drown you where you stand—”

“You’re all in desperate need of counseling,” Pixal mutters.

“Tell me about it,” Lloyd says, leaning back on the armrest of the sofa.

Cole shakes his head. “Lost causes, all of them.”

Pixal stares at them both, expression pinched, before deciding to respect the hopelessness of lost causes.

“Hold on, I think Kai’s crying,” Lloyd moves to sit up, only to wobble, slip sideways, and go crashing to the floor gracelessly.

“Just like when I fell to my doom off the Bounty,” Cole reminisces.

Pixal’s eyes glaze over.

---

Later that evening, Pixal adds “therapy” to the list of potential expenses on the fridge door. Regretfully, it loses miserably in the debate against hot shower expenses, so it too joins the pile of repressed memories that will undoubtedly haunt them in the future.

“But hey, a hot shower can cure depression on a good day,” Cole says, and that settles that.

---

Hot showers, as it turns out, are a hard-won priority.

It’s less so after Jay, Nya, and Pixal camp out overnight near the pipeline and perform their own less-than-legal maintenance, but one of Zane’s carefully filed insurance claims actually went through the other day, so they’re taking their luck as they can.

It’s not until they get working on the bathroom itself that the true difficulty makes itself clear.

“Hey, uh,” Kai stares down at the patch of rotted floor he’s ripped up, wiping at the fog that’s spread across his safety goggles. “Is the base layer supposed to look like that?”

“Look like what?” Cole abandons the tiling he’s been placing to glance over. His face drops. “Uh-oh.”

“Is that all black mold?” Nya gags, nearly dropping her bottle of cleaning bleach.

“FSM, no wonder we’re all crazy,” Cole mutters.

“Alright,” Kai strips off his rubber gloves. “Nothing for it. Back up, guys, I’m barbecuing this baby.”

“Wait wait wait don’t—”

Ten minutes and a good deal of hacking and wheezing through teary eyes later, Cole murders Kai while they all look on.

Well, he attempts to.

“You filled the monastery with chlorine gas, you absolute moron—!”

“How was I supposed to know that would happen, I’m not a chemist—”

Nya glares ahead darkly as Lloyd gingerly treats the reddened blisters on her hands.

“None of you,” Zane says, through gritted teeth. “Are touching cleaning chemicals for a year.”

---

“Not sure I wanna know how you pulled off poisoning yourselves, but I’m kinda impressed you did a better job of it than most criminals would,” Ronin tells them, once the monastery has been successfully de-chlorinated and the bathroom tiles firmly put in place, sans black mold.

“Maybe we can hire ourselves out to them when we’re strapped for cash,” Nya sighs.

“We’re literally always strapped for cash. We’re broke.”

Ronin laughs, clapping Jay on the back. “Welcome to adulthood, kid.”

“I don’t think normal adulthood gets their home blown up on a regular basis,” Lloyd hisses.

“Fair point,” Ronin nods.

“Well, thanks for saving us all from a slow and painful death,” Cole scrubs his hands over his face. “We can pay you back sometime in the next century. Maybe.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Ronin waves them off. “It’d be like kicking a dog when it’s down, askin’ you all to pay. Besides, I probably owe you one.”

“You sure do,” Jay glares.

“Hey, hey, I said I was sorry for the whole human sacrifice thing,” Ronin placates. “Want some good news, at least?”

“Is it actually good news?” Lloyd eyes him shrewdly.

“Lighten up, captain trust issues.” Kai barely snags Lloyd before he lands himself back in jail. “I looked into some more of those insurance claims you filed, and you actually got somethin’ out of it. I, uh, helped the bank along a bit, with the refund.”

“Bank?” Cole whispers.

“Refund?” Jay’s eyes shine.

“Yeah, got you all your checks right here,” Ronin says, tugging six neat envelopes from his jacket. “Just don’t blow ‘em all at once, okay? Haha.”

Zane looks as if he might propose to him on the spot.

“Hey, this isn’t too bad!” Kai exclaims. “We got money!”

“Guys,” Lloyd says, staring at his check. “You know we should probably pool all this together and spend it on necessities, right?”

“Yeah,” Cole sighs.

“It would be the smartest course of action,” Zane adds.

There’s a noted silence.

“Or,” Lloyd says.

---

In their defense, they spend exactly two-thirds of their checks on household items.

Whether or not these are needed household items remains a debate.

“If we’re all buying lamps for the living room, can we at least attempt to match?” Zane sighs.

“Booo, where’s your joy and whimsy?” Jay sticks out his tongue.

“That isn’t even a lamp, it’s a light-up axolotl.”

“The heck’s an axo-lot—”

“It lights up, doesn’t it? Ergo, it’s a lamp.”

“Ergo, what are you, Sensei Wu—”

“We’re never having guests over again,” Cole remarks, as Lloyd and Nya maneuver a five-foot-tall rendition of Godzilla into the shopping cart that may or may not light up.

“The monastery’s gonna look rad as heck, we’re forcing everyone to come over and look at it,” Kai corrects as he tosses a set of flame-patterned curtains into the mess.

“Absolutely not.”

“I actually might like them,” Zane muses. “They would capture the energy of our kitchen perfectly.”

Kai beams. “Flame curtains are a go!”

In the aftermath, they total around six individual blankets, five mismatching lamps and one light-up axolotl, a table that no one knows how to put together, one set of flame-patterned curtains, another hideous couch, and enough cutlery and kitchenware that no one has to eat out of Sensei Wu’s incense bowls anymore.

“Alright,” Lloyd says. “We’ve got three hours until the stores start closing. Everyone take the rest of your checks, don’t think about how much of a disaster the monastery still is, and start thinking about how valid retail therapy is.”

“Aye-aye,” Kai salutes, before immediately booking it for the clothing outlets.

---

Three hours later, Kai’s happily blown his entire check on a new wardrobe and exactly one pair of name-brand brand shoes. He’s unreasonably proud of himself for his restraint, until he catches Cole with three pairs of his own name-brand shoes, and immediately regrets being responsible.

He spots Jay going off in the N-Pop section of a music store, Nya investing in a sinfully-priced espresso machine, and Zane walking toward the clothing outlets himself with a high-quality pair of noise-cancelling headphones.

He doesn’t find Lloyd until well after he’s picked up his own clothes, already sporting an oversized hoodie he could’ve just stolen from Kai.

He’s more concerned when Lloyd proceeds to blow the last of his check at the sporting goods section of the local convenience store. Considering how long Lloyd spent looking wistfully at the candy aisle, Kai is baffled by the decision.

He’s even more baffled when Lloyd proceeds to box up his purchase for delivery instead of keeping it himself.

He’s utterly horrified when he sees who it’s addressed to.

“Are you serious?!” he asks shrilly, torn between ripping the box from Lloyd’s hands or immediately calling the mental health hotline. “You’re sending her gifts?”

“It’s not a gift, it’s — look, it’s a long story, you wouldn’t get it,” Lloyd grumbles, plastering another layer of duct tape over the box. “Just help me deliver it to Kryptarium and I’ll show you, okay?”

Kai very much does not help, because he’s not an enabler and he cares about his brother’s mental health, but he does follow Lloyd to Kryptarium Prison and lurk behind him as he eagerly watches the surveillance screens.

Harumi stares at the box before her, looking every bit as baffled as Kai is.

“Who would send me a volleyball—”

She freezes, her face going utterly blank. A muscle in her jaw twitches.

There’s a brief flash of what could be amusement, a brief expression as if she’s eaten something sour, then a fury like no other eclipses her face.

“LLOYD! I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF, YOU THINK YOU’RE HILARIOUS—”

Lloyd’s still laughing by the time they’re escorted from the premises, hard enough that Kai has to catch him when he trips at the top of the steps.

“What’d you even write on the note?” Kai finally asks, a bit in awe.

Lloyd grins. “I told her good luck getting together her villainous volleyball team in jail.”

Kai blinks. “Do I…want to know?”

“Nope!” Lloyd says airily. “But I’ve made my point.”

---

Regardless of some behaviors, the mental health hotline remains a constant idea. It simply happens to come up at inconvenient times, such as when Cole drops a dresser on his foot halfway across the courtyard.

He swears so loudly the whole monastery echoes with it.

“Oh geez, Cole, are you okay? Why’d you lift the whole thing on your own?”

“We could have helped,” Zane rushes over. “You don’t have to do it all yourself—”

“Yes I do!” Cole yells. “I’m stronger than that, I’m supposed to be stronger, I have to be stronger or you’re all going to die next time—”

He cuts off abruptly. Zane looks heartbroken. Jay—

Is suddenly busy smacking Cole upside the head.

“No, you don’t!” he snaps back, even louder. “You don’t have to do it by yourself! None of you do! Every time anyone tries to do something by themselves it all goes wrong and we lose someone, so we’re never — doing that — again!”

He seizes Cole around the arms, his wild eyes meeting Cole’s wide ones. “No one blames you for the stupid tunnel. I don’t care how strong you are. We’re all here and that’s what matters, so don’t you dare put that at risk.”

“But I—”

“No.”

“Jay, I—”

“No.”

“I—”

“No!” A manic expression overtakes Jay’s face. “No, no, no! No one’s taking the blame. No one’s isolating themselves. No. One. Is. Going. Off. Alone. You hear me?!”

The others are frozen, halfway outstretched hands caught as if suspended in ice. Kai’s expression is twisted painfully. Lloyd’s eyes are on the ground. Zane is as frozen as the metaphorical ice, and Nya looks devastated.

“No more being alone,” Jay says, the fire in his voice giving way to something wetter and considerably more sniffly. “No more. Don’t — you can’t—”

“Okay,” Cole whispers. He carefully takes Jay’s hands from his shoulders, grasping them in his own instead. “Okay. No more going at it alone. I promise.”

The monastery courtyard seems a little colder, in the silence.

“Anyone feel like circling back to the whole ‘suing Harumi’ idea?” Kai finally speaks up.

Jay gives a wet snort.

“Well, we’re probably gonna need to afford tissues,” Lloyd says. His own voice isn’t exactly dry, either.

---

The downside to sticking therapy smack at the bottom of their priorities is that they all really are, in fact, not okay.

Most of the time, they manage.

There’s a solace in being together, a comfort in having the people you trust and care for most in the world right next to you when the nightmares get bad. When Jay awakens screaming for Nya or clutching at his throat for air, Nya is already holding his hand and Cole’s holding the rest of him.

When Zane lapses into silence too long, emotions a roiling mess that leave him paralyzed, Kai is there with one-two-three’s for breathing and Lloyd is there to draw little cats with him until the world subsides again.

When Cole’s eyes shadow in training and his hits grow wild, Zane is there to pin him before he bloodies his hands and Jay is there to sing horrible off-key songs he loves until the panic ebbs.

When Nya stares at the water too-long, her eyes misty and her expression dreamy, Jay is there to hold her tight and Kai is there to talk until his voice goes hoarse and hers returns.

There are other times, though, when it’s harder.

It hits Kai this time about halfway through painting the walls of the kitchen a cheerful yellow, said paint splattered up to his elbows, courtesy of Lloyd. He glances down — to joke, to laugh, to not think—

And pauses. With the headband he’s stolen from Pixal in place, pushing back the mass of thick blond hair, Kai can just see the purple-red edges of the swollen, irritated wounds that scar Lloyd’s scalp. The twin marks are a better sight than when Kai first glimpsed them, bleeding circles that looked as if someone had drilled into Lloyd’s skull — but not by much.

“S’fine,” Lloyd mutters, catching Kai’s devastated expression. “I can’t even feel ‘em. Not really.”

“Liar,” Kai rasps. “They look awful.”

Lloyd makes a face. “Gee, thanks a lot.”

“I mean it. What if they get infected, or worse, or — have you had Sensei look at them?”

Lloyd wraps his arms around himself, avoiding Kai’s eyes. “No. I didn’t really…I did what he asked. What they both did. And then screwed the whole thing up, so it was all useless anyways, so I—”

He bites his lip, hard enough to crack the already dry skin.

“I don’t really wanna hear anyone telling me what else I’m doing wrong with myself, right now.”

Kai is angry enough to feel sick.

“That’s stupid. That’s so stupid, he should — it shouldn’t be like that, it’s — why didn’t anyone—” he shakes his head. “Why doesn’t anyone ever ask us if we wanna be — if we wanna—”

Lloyd’s hand closes around his wrist, gently tugging Kai’s own hand from where it’s clawed unconsciously at his arm, leaving ugly red stripes against his skin.

“You asked,” he says, quietly. “That meant a lot.”

Kai looks away. “Lot of good it did.”

Lloyd’s grip tightens. “It meant the world to me,” he repeats, stronger this time.

“But I couldn’t—!”

Lloyd abandons his hold on his wrist to wrap his arms around Kai entirely, holding tight. Bony and strong and familiar, Kai’s little brother to the core.

“Thank you,” he says, fervently enough that Kai can feel the ache in his voice. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

Kai’s voice is a miserable mess of fought-back tears. “I couldn’t even do anything.”

“You asked me what I wanted,” Lloyd says once again, and Kai can hear the edge of tears threatening his voice, now. “That was everything.”

Giving in, Kai drops his head into the mess of blond curls and hugs Lloyd back. Lloyd’s hair smells like blood and paint and steel and the strawberry shampoo Skylor gave them, and now it’s gonna smell like Kai’s stupid snot and tears.

“Hey, having another hug party without me is lame.”

Kai gives a wet, broken response as Nya throws her arms around them both.

“Idiots,” she murmurs, resting her head atop theirs. “I love you both, you know that?”

“Ew, gross,” Lloyd snorts wetly. “Hey Kai, Nya loves us.”

“Little jerk, who you callin’ gross? And here I thought you loved us too.”

“Well obviously I love you guys back, who’s the idiot now—”

Kai simply clutches them both and cries harder, as if holding onto them will stop himself from falling apart.

It works, in the ways that matter, though it’s always because they’re holding back even tighter.

Later that evening, Zane bathes Lloyd’s head in antiseptic and Jay forces them all to sit through the PowerPoint presentation he’s made with Nya titled “Every Super Cool Totally Good Character with Horns Ranked”. He loses them the minute he brings anime characters into it, as everyone suddenly develops incredibly passionate opinions about the rankees, but Lloyd’s laughing too hard to have his own opinion and Kai doesn’t feel like he’s drowning under inadequacy anymore — just choking to death under the weight of Jay’s elbow for daring to insult Re:Zero as an anime “since it actually has Oni in it, idiot, your opinion is trash—”

They get things back to being okay, one way or another.

---

Somewhere in the third month of renovations, they finally scrounge up six whole beds. It takes a good deal of dragging and cursing, but they finally manage to move into their own rooms, the once-empty spaces looking a little less lonely.

“Now we don’t have to all sleep together in the same room anymore,” Jay announces. There’s no small amount of celebration at that.

The celebration lasts up until sometime around three in the morning, at which point the consistent nightmares land them all right back in the pile of communal air mattresses.

“Just for like, one more night,” Kai yawns, as Lloyd curls closer beneath his arm.

“Totally, yeah,” Nya echoes, one leg spread across Jay, her arm sprawled over Kai.

“Go to sleep already, FSM’ sake,” Cole begs, before slumping over Zane.

For all Cole’s begging, he’s still the first to act when Zane suddenly lurches up from the bed, gasping for air like he’s drowning and giving them all joint heart attacks.

“—hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just us—”

Cole’s hands hover, non-threatening, as Zane buries his face in his palms, breathing ragged. The others have begun to get up now as well, the slow kind of approach that lets Zane know exactly where each of them are.

“I despise this,” Zane spits, as his hand drags down to fist over his chest. “I hate feeling like this. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it—”

“I know,” Cole says. “I know.”

“This is why — it’s so much easier—“

“It’s okay, it’s—”

“It is not! I do not need to breathe, and yet I can’t!” Zane bursts out, frustrated and frightened. “I’m not supposed to break down like this, I do not, I do not—”

“You’re not a machine,” Cole says steadily. “You get to break down.”

“But if I—”

“You don’t,” Lloyd murmurs. “You don’t have to turn ‘em off, Zane. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Zane’s head lowers, his eyes shadowed. “It wouldn’t hurt,” he says, but it’s reluctant.

“Yeah, you’d never hurt, but you’d never be happy, either,” Kai says. “And that’d suck.”

“It’d suck for us, too,” Cole speaks up. “We’d have to live without your laugh. Without your sassy remarks. Without your kindness.”

“We’d live without you,” Lloyd says, quietly. “And you wouldn’t really be living, would you?”

Zane crumples, his shoulders shaking as he allows Kai to pull him close.

“If it gets too much, just come to us,” Jay says. “We’ll be more, okay? We’re pretty good at that.”

Zane gives a wet, stifled laugh.

“Don’t go, even if it’s just your emotions leaving,” Nya murmurs, her head against his. “It isn’t worth it.”

With slowing shudders, Zane lets himself relax, the warmth of their little family pressing around him. Kai is an immovable barrier at his side, save for where Lloyd’s tucked beneath his arm. Jay’s legs tangle with Lloyd and Cole’s, his hand held tightly in Nya’s.

“Leaving isn’t worth it,” Nya echoes. “Not in any lifetime.”

---

Bit by bit, the monastery comes together.

The smell of new paint gives way to a familiar scent of mixing elements and laundry soap, one that’s followed them since the first Bounty. They comb through every online shop until they find the exact brand of sheets that feel like the first apartment they ever lived in together. Thrift shops and sales and birthdays stock closets once again, new hoodies that are quickly stolen and passed back and forth. The collection of CD’s and movies rebuilds into stacks once again through shared movie nights and pirated music.

And little by little, with the consistent passage of time, photographs line the walls of the monastery once again.

A little older, a little worn, but a collection of family all the same.

---

“Except we still don’t have damn central heating—”

“Suck it up and light the fireplace, hothead.”

“No respect in this city. None at all.”

#lego ninjago #ninjago #post-crystalized #my fanfic #had to post one (1) at least #tbh this is terrifying! i forgot how to write #my fic

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themeraldee · 2 months ago

Text

The Lucky Winner - Part 3

[Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2] | [AO3]

18+ Only | 10k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 1. Voice kink (very mild mention). Awkward first dates. Awkward dialogue. Messy timeline. Established Relationship. Love confession. Emotional sex. Unhealthy Relationship.

Summary: Your life turns upside down, again, when Homelander reaches out to you asking you out on a date.

Author’s Note: This is set between the events of Part 1 & Part 2. It really is just a self-indulgent excuse to explore some relationship building and dynamics. Lot of awkward dialogue so be warned.

The next time Homelander contacts you it catches you just as off guard as the first time. Maybe even more so. You never expected him to turn up in the first place, let alone be interested in seconds.

Your phone is ringing on the bed and ever since the development from a week ago you’ve been on edge anytime your phone rang. You drop the towel you’re folding back on the pile of unsorted laundry and you nearly dive onto the bed, reaching for your phone. In the panic you drop it about three times, your shaky hands inadvertently playing hot potato.

“Hello?!” You yell into the phone, panicked. You don’t actually end up checking who’s calling, too worried about not accidentally hanging up. Plus it’s not like you could have saved Homelander’s number from a week ago anyway. It showed up as blocked on your phone’s call logs so you had no way to recognise his number.

“Hello there! Nice of you to pick up.” You squeaked in surprise and the voice on the phone turned from chipper to confused. “You okay? You sound a little—” And oh my god, it’s him! You’re talking to Homelander, again. Okay, okay, now it’s time to try and keep calm.

His voice is still gloriously rich and sweet in your ear and here you are about to most likely embarrass yourself again because for the life of you you’re incapable of coming across as calm and collected.

“I’m fine!” You immediately cut him off, your voice shrill and strained. He does not need to know the ins-and-outs of your internal struggle. But either way you’re already doing terribly. Who are you to cut Homelander off mid-sentence? Where are your manners?

“Why are you—um—I mean, is there anything you need?” You clumsily make your way through your response. Definitely not how you wanted to present yourself but it’s a lot better than barely being able to say a word like last time!

“I’m taking you out on a date. Get ready for 7 today.” You heard it. You’re pretty damn sure you heard that right, yet not a single part of you believes what he said.

“Sorry? W-w-what do you mean?” You sputter in confusion, your brain simply not capable of computing this news.

“I mean that I’m taking you out for dinner. What’s hard to understand?” He sounds irritated and your heart is pounding. From so many things at once. How are you meant to process that Homelander contacted you again, is asking you out for a date and now you’ve managed to irk him?!

Before you manage to apologize, following your typical spiel, Homelander continues. “Maybe you don’t know this but it’s kind of what men do when they want to get to know someone. You following yet?”

You ignore the condescending remark and instead you focus on what he’s actually saying.

There may as well be steam coming out of your ears, you genuinely feel like a blushing teenage girl talking to her crush. You’re hot bright red in the face and you feel the literal heat coming off your face.

“Yeah but you’re not—well of course you are—but also you’re not! Y’know, just an average Joe.” How do you go about explaining that you don’t feel worthy of that kind of attention?

“Doesn’t matter, you’re missing the point. Is that a no?” You’d think he would be pissed saying that, who in their right mind would refuse going on a date with Homelander, but he sounds amused more than anything.

Again with the reading you like a book. Because you barely manage to let out a barrage of “No! No no no no— that’s not!” before Homelander starts laughing.

“Alright, I’ll pick you up then.”

“No, wait! I can’t—I can’t do the public thing. You’re you! And as soon as I show up in public with you I won’t be left alone. I know that’s normal for you, but my life isn’t like that. I’m just… me.” You’re just a nobody. You don’t have a social media presence. You don’t bring attention to yourself. And you like to keep it that way. Going on a public date with America’s golden boy himself? You would be ripped apart by the online vultures.

You all but freak out on the phone and for a second you think he disconnected because you can’t hear a thing over the line but he suddenly speaks up.

“Oh well. We can’t have that, can we? You better have dinner ready at your place instead.” You don’t need to see him to imagine him with the biggest satisfied grin on his face. “I’ll be there at 7. Catch you later!”

Homelander hangs up on you and you hear the disconnected tone ringing in your ear as you stand there like a fish out of water. Mouth gaping open, letting out disbelieving stutters.

You pull the phone away from your ear, looking down at it as if it offended you. It’s then you notice the time. Shit shit shit. You have less than four hours to make your place and yourself presentable, go on a grocery run and start cooking for Homelander?! What just happened!

“Oh no no no no. This is not happening.” You rub your hands over your face as if to wipe the shock off your face. You’re so overwhelmed with the rollercoaster of emotions that you don’t know whether to have a panic attack, laugh nervously or downright cry.

Okay, first of all the pile of laundry is gonna have to wait. You don’t have the time to meticulously fold your t-shirts and panties. You gather up the clean and dry laundry into your hands, haphazardly shoving it into the closet before closing the door on what will be an avalanche of laundry for your future self to deal with.

With pure panic-induced energy that you haven’t felt in a long while you manage to just about make your place presentable within an hour. Finally managing to gather and clean up the mugs and glasses that have been cluttering up your surfaces, making your bed all neat and tidy—just in case—and shoving all unnecessary clutter into cupboards. It’s not like Homelander would use his x-ray vision to judge the inside of your cabinets, would he?

Speeding your way out of your apartment you make your way over to the closest shop. Standing in the fresh produce aisle you suddenly realize you don’t actually have a plan. What the fuck are you meant to cook for Homelander?! Even after all the content you’ve consumed you’re pretty sure there’s not a single mention of his favorites. At least ones he’s not been sponsored to promote. Sure, he’s on many products, ranging from frozen peas to whole milk but that doesn’t mean it’s something he genuinely endorses. After all you want to get to know the man behind the costume, a date is not meant to be just another PR interview for him!

You’re starting to look strange. People are passing you while you’re internally panicking over what to buy. What if he’s allergic to something? What if he goes into anaphylactic shock and fucking dies! Even if you had an EpiPen or he carried it on him you wouldn’t be able to stab it into him anyway. And suddenly you’ve killed the world’s most beloved superhero and you’re spending the rest of your life in jail with Vought most certainly making sure you pay your dues. Even if all of that was true you had no way of knowing. It’s not like Vought would ever leak that kind of information. Not very good for their brand to tweet that their best superhero is allergic to fucking nuts!

You shake your head a little, snapping yourself out of your dazed state. If Homelander’s brand is anything it’s that red-blooded American male perfect standard. Surely he wouldn’t complain about some steak dinner right? Men love steaks! You just make sure to avoid most common allergens. You pick up some potatoes and other vegetables to roast along with a good pricey cut of steak that was easily out of your budget.

You get home just as fast and with each passing second you’re more and more on edge. You don’t know whether it’s the anxiety coiling in your guts or the so called ‘butterflies’ but you’ve never been this nervous before. With the clock ticking and the food cooking you’re suddenly more and more paranoid over everything. From your insane Homelander merch collection to even just the furniture you’ve got! Not that that’s anything you can change in the next hour but your mind is running at a hundred miles an hour and you’re trying to account for everything.

Just before it gets to the agreed time you change into something nice but casual, straight after shoving the laundry avalanche back into its place. You even leave the balcony door open, doubting he’s gonna knock on your door like a normal person.

And while you’re there focusing on platting up your best attempt at steak and roasted vegetables, you hear the familiar sound of Homelander’s landing. You whip your head towards the wall clock with such urgency it’s shocking you don’t give yourself whiplash.

Shit. It was literally 7pm. You wanted to set the table all pretty and prep it perfectly but you got so preoccupied with the place looking as good as it can that you lost track of time. You’re sure he’s used to luxury and perfection. You want to do your best to replicate that!

“Homelander!” Comes out of you with a little gasp. You tilt your head to look at him. And what you see makes your heart skip a beat.

There he is, in his suited-out glory per usual, except this time he’s holding a bouquet of roses with a dashing smile on his face that quickly turns into a self-satisfied grin as he immediately notices your panic at his presence. Even after he thoroughly reduced you to a puddle of goo just last week you were still such a skittish uncertain thing around him.

“Wow, smells delicious in here.” He looks around taking it in while inhaling the mouth-watering smell of sizzling steak.

Homelander steps closer with calculated steps, checking you out without an ounce of shame. You don’t know if it’s just the pure intensity in his eyes that has you feeling on edge or if he really is undressing you with his gaze. “These,” he frees your hand, prying your palm open with his gloved hand, “are for you.” He places the bouquet of roses into your palm, squeezing it shut around the wrapped stems.

In a way you’re paralyzed. The reality of the situation finally hits you and you realize you’re really here about to have a dinner date with Homelander. Who just brought you expensive, gorgeous flowers, because that’s something that totally happens to people like you.

You’re standing there, staring at the deep rich red of the roses that actually ends up matching the cardigan you put on for this. Your little attempt at complimenting the suit you knew he'd show up in.

Your mind is going a million miles a second and your other hand squeezes a petal in between your fingertips. There’s droplets of water on the velvety surface. You didn’t realize it was raining at the time. You look past him through a window as if you could make out the weather through the darkness of the evening.

Looking at the roses now, they look beautiful, pristine. He flew here right? How did he manage to keep them in one shape with the speeds he flies at.

“H-how did you fly with—” You don’t even finish the question before he’s answering.

“I don’t have to fly at super speeds all the time. You’d think my most loyal fan would know that.”

“You can read minds too?” Falls out of your mouth before you even think about what you're saying.

“No. You’re just very easy to read.” He places his hands on his hips, naturally defaulting to his superhero pose.

And sure, maybe the way your eyes move in between the window, him and the flowers is a dead giveaway but you still don’t think it’s that easy to figure out exactly how your thought process works.

He seems unhappy with your lack of enthusiastic response. He probably expected you to jump at him, wrapping your arms around him in pure glee that he’d do such a romantic thing.

He nodded towards the bouquet, raising his eyebrows.

“Anyway, your flowers. You might want to put them in some water. Unless you plan on fondling each petal all night.” You don’t know whether he said it that way on purpose or if your absurd attraction to his voice is reaching new heights but the imagery that conjures is not one that would belong at a dinner table. There’s a different kind of petal-fondling you have in mind for later.

“Sorry! I’m sorry. And thank you. Really, this is very kind of you. They’re beautiful.” Finally, he’s satisfied with that response, his shoulders relax a bit, his chest puffing out as he sees you hold the flowers closer to you.

You’re all over the place and your movements are in no way elegant or thought out as you awkwardly stumble around, pulling out the biggest glass you could find. This ends up being a large glass measuring jug which you admit looks rather strange, and you don't miss the way he raises his eyebrow at the display.

Well, it was a lot better than if you used the bucket you keep under the sink for cleaning. It’s not like you have a perfect pretty vase ready for this occasion. Until now you didn’t have anyone bringing you flowers and you never really bought any for yourself.

He doesn’t comment on the miserable display. Instead he focuses on how wound up you are.

“Jeez, you’re even stiffer than last time. You know I usually fuck my dates after dinner, but if you need me to loosen you up…” His crude attempt at humor and breaking the ice just has your brain screeching and halting all actions.

“What?! No, nonono. That won’t—That’s not. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. That you’re here.”

“I did tell you I’d come. And I’m pretty sure you’re not plating up two plates for yourself there silly.” He shakes his head while clicking his tongue, as if disapproving of your doubt.

“I mean, I’m surprised that you want to do this. With me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m here aren’t I? Last time I checked I asked you out, not the other way around. And trust me sweetheart, I don’t do shit out of pity.” He walks closer to you, his hand patting the side of your arm, settling his hand there and sliding it up until he reaches your jaw. The leather of his glove is cold, some raindrops still stuck in the crevices.

Although your heart rate picks up, you smile genuinely. Getting the straightforward confirmation that he wants to be here with you warms your heart. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have everything ready. I lost track of time. Do you mind just sitting down, I’ll finish up in a second.”

“Yup, can do.” He sits down at the small table slapping his palms on his thighs as he does so. Already peeling his gloves off, discarding the gloves at the edge of the table.

You finish up the plating, trying to make it as neat as possible. You bring the plates over, one in front of him the other right opposite. “Um, do you drink beer? I got some in case you do. I know you do endorse some but I’m sure that doesn’t mean you have to consume it in your free time.”

“No thanks, never got the taste for it. Have you got milk?”

You blank a little at the request. It’s not the typical pairing by any means but who are you to tell him what to like. Instead you comply, tucking away the little preference into the corner of your mind where you keep all your knowledge about him.

“Um, yeah. I do. Again, I got one you’ve done marketing for, just in case you did like it. I wasn’t really sure. Believe it or not there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” You admit. It’s not like everything that his Marketing team puts out is all real. You're sure they leave out any of his actual preferences so future advertisers don't clash with any competition.

“With this logic I’m surprised you didn’t buy the entire store.”

“I was close to it.” You take the carton out of the fridge, shutting the door with your hip. “Do you want it warm or cold?”

“Cold is fine.” You nod, pouring some into a glass placing it in front of him.

As a last touch you take two roses from the huge bouquet, popping them into a narrow tall glass filled with water and you place the romantic decoration to the side of the table before sitting down.

He strangely smiles at the gesture, something about it feeling awfully domestic. It may not be perfectly manicured but it's real and it does the job just as well. It's not a perfect setting made for a photoshoot. You're just trying to impress him with what you've got. All for his enjoyment only. And that alone makes it a lot more special.

Suddenly being right across him really set the reality of the situation. You feel a little awkward about the setting. But there is really only so much you could have done with your small apartment. And it’s not like he hasn’t been here before. He knows what you're working with.

You watch as he cuts into the steak, stabbing it with his fork and bringing a piece to his mouth.

“Wait! You’re not allergic to anything right?!” You suddenly panic, feeling cold sweat pour over you at the thought of your irrational thoughts from earlier coming true.

He looks thoroughly amused but he doesn’t answer and instead just takes the bite.

“Are you always this worried on dates? Or do you get them to fill out a questionnaire beforehand?” He seems to enjoy throwing all these little jabs highlighting how much of a nervous mess you are in his presence.

“I don’t usually cook for my dates on the first date. There’s usually nothing to worry about.”

“I did ask you out for dinner. This is your own doing missy.” He waved his fork at you, pointing at you being the one to blame.

“You think I’m—oh. I’m not complaining about this, oh my god! I just didn’t really know what you like! Surprisingly not a lot about that online. They really know how to keep you a mystery. And even superheroes have allergies! How was I to know whether you’ve got one or not? But even if you did, it’s not like Vought would release that information.” You ramble on, trying to explain yourself but you’re really just digging yourself a deeper hole. Not that Homelander looks particularly put off. If anything, the amused grin spreads to both corners of his mouth.

“You know I’m not here for the food right? Though this is not too bad. Didn’t think you had it in you.” He raises his eyebrows in appreciation.

“I live on my own. I don’t know why you’re surprised to learn that I can cook for myself.” You said feigning offense but inside you were squealing at the compliment.

“When’s the last time you’ve had a date?” He changes the topic, with each passing moment he’s less interested in the food and a lot more honed in on you and what little secrets you can let him in on. Though he’s still happily nursing the glass of milk.

“It’s been a while, I guess.” You’re overcome with this anxious feeling in your gut. Is it meant to be a dig at the date you’ve prepared? Is he saying that you’re not desirable enough to be dated?

He catches you off guard with his smug little smile. “Thought so. Guess you’re too busy being my biggest fan, huh?”

You nearly choke on your food, surprised and flustered by his words. The tell-tale sign of heat creeps up your neck and to the tip of your ears in embarrassment. He’s hard to read and you can’t tell whether he’s trying to humiliate you or if he genuinely enjoys the reminder of having someone fawn over him right there and then.

You put your cutlery down, softly clinking it against the plate. “Look, I’m really sorry about all that. I’m a fan but I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were.” The corners of his mouth comically pull down feigning innocence with a shrug.

You playfully roll your eyes. “You insinuated. I’m just saying I wouldn’t have all this stuff out if I knew you’d ever see it!” You wave your arm in the general direction of the rest of your humble apartment. Still littered with Homelander merch. If you had more time to prepare for the date you would have maybe even taken some of it down. Replace some posters with photos of friends or family, making you appear a lot more put together. But alas, your guilty pleasure is still blatantly obvious and out for anyone to see. It's all the worse that in this case it’s being seen by the featured star of your guilty pleasure himself.

“There’s no shame in being a fan.”

“No, but it’s different to collect memorabilia and merchandise of a beloved superhero that you don’t ever expect to witness the madness and to actually have him see it all and feel objectified. As if all there was to him is just the plastic he can sell with his face on it.”

You don’t know why you’re getting into the heavy-duty topic of someone’s worth and value but maybe part of you just wants to present yourself as someone who cares. Someone who looks beyond the obvious.

Homelander is similarly perturbed by your words. Clearly not used to fans taking such direction with him. Thinking about it you doubt he hears more from them beyond a predictable can I have a selfie?

He furrows his eyebrows for a second tilting his head. As if he’s trying to look into your brain to read your mind. And sure he can literally see inside your skull but it doesn’t help him understand your thoughts. So instead he digs deeper. Putting the glass of milk down he looks you straight in the eyes.

“You don’t think that’s it?”

His resolute question makes you pause, feeling as if you overstepped. And even if, there’s no way to backtrack anymore so you continue. “O-of course not. I know you’re more than what Vought puts out there.”

You’ve spent countless hours following the content Vought markets out to the public. All of it manicured to match his perfect brand and profile. They’re slick enough to control even the content fans put out. From conventions to random street encounters. You remember following a thread of an anonymous fan sharing their experience of getting barraged by Vought’s lawyers after they shared a post about a poor experience they had meeting one of their superheroes. You haven’t heard an update from that story in a while, god knows what happened to the fan. Maybe Vought’s lawyers managed to get their anonymous account too.

“How would you know?” Irritation seeps into his tone, shoulders tensing, feeling exposed right before he slides back into his normal casual tone and body language as if remembering that he’s meant to be talking to a date and not some nosy interviewer trying to get the next scoop.

“I mean who hasn’t put up a face to show the world their perfect self? Whether it’s on dates or in front of friends. I just imagine that doing that in front of the whole world means there’s a lot you feel like you have to hide.” With each word you feel like you’re digging yourself a hole, ruining any chance of another date. But you’ve started saying your piece and when else are you gonna get the chance to tell the man exactly how you feel?

So you continue.

“I just think it has to be exhausting. Your entire job, your life is existing in the public eye and you can’t ever slip up? Not super-abled celebrities deal with that already but for you there’s the added burden of being seen as the superhero right? ‘Here to save us all’. I just mean, do you ever get to be yourself?”

You mean to be sympathetic, not that you could ever imagine what it’s like to be in his shoes. Being as obsessed as you are, you've watched all the footage with him. You notice how often the same lines repeat, how well he’s perfected the mask of a perfect hero. The fake humble you’re the real heroes being repeated in every video and appearance. If it was you, you know you’d have enough a while ago now. The daily grind of a job is exhausting enough but to do that all under the public’s scrutiny? You couldn’t even imagine.

You were so lost in your little monologue, spilling all the little thoughts you had about him and his persona that you miss how his casual demeanor has once again shifted into something else. He’s less irritated but he’s tense. Even more so than before. He wears an expression you’re pretty sure you’ve not seen on him before. His jaw may not be dropped but his surprise and confusion is evident without it.

He’s speechless. Thinking about it now, has anyone ever spoken to him in such manner before?

You watch his body language and the way he’s squeezing the fork so hard you’re sure he’s bent the metal.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. It’s just once I get going I can’t stop!”

He lets out a breathless little laugh. His shoulders release in tension. He stops gripping the cutlery and sure enough it has a bend that definitely wasn’t there before but you don’t care. He’s not pissed. He raises his free hand waving you off and stopping you from apologizing any further. Something you’ve managed to do about a hundred times since his arrival.

“No. No, it’s fine. You didn’t.” He shakes his head a little, looking at you with a different look in his eyes. No longer just looking for a little bit of excitement, now he’s truly locked in. What else can he get you to say? “Well maybe you did a little, but color me intrigued anyway.”

He looks at you in a way that makes you feel small. You feel like you’re on your knees praying for your god to hear out your prayers knowing it’s unlikely for him to even notice you.

“Can't say I've heard any of that before.” He concludes, slumping back into the chair now that he's relaxed again, having lost all interest in the food you've served up.

You’re embarrassed by the call out. It’s like all your efforts to not appear like another crazy fan have been pointless. He might not seem angry but that doesn’t mean he’s about to jump at the thought of another date. You may have ruined your chances at this being anything more than mild entertainment to him so you try to save yourself. “I just mean. I have always wanted to get to know you. The you without the cameras.”

“You already have. I don’t go on dates with many fans, believe it or not. And I gotta say you’re a lot more interesting than I gave you credit for.”

And maybe it wasn’t such a lost cause yet. Have there been many people that Homelander has ever found genuinely interesting? You wouldn’t know but at least you’re one of them.

“Oh…ah-hah thank you.” You fluster under his heavy gaze. His words make your heart skip a beat. There’s very little that can match the euphoria of your hero, the hero really, saying he finds you interesting. It’s hard to calm the pounding of your heart at the thought of a man of his caliber seeking your company out.

After all you’ve managed to blurt out you feel more at ease. It’s not awkward like you expected it to be. In a way you’ve broken the ice you didn’t know was even there.

With you both losing interest or having had enough of your meals you move to the small but comfortable couch. And like any good dinner and movie date you put on the first title that gets advertised to you on the main page of the Vought+ streaming platform.

In reality the movie doesn’t get watched. Either you let it play in the background or you pause on sections just so you can continue the conversation between the two of you. And somehow it’s still mainly you literally just rambling on about him. It’s not that he doesn’t talk or doesn’t ask questions about you but you see the way he preens at all the enamored praise you send his way.

The only parts that do get watched is the small cameo Homelander ended up having in the title and the conversation steers back to him. He gives you all the details you ask for, more than happy to talk about how great of an actor he is.

With each minute of sitting close to him you feel your body respond to him. You feel hot. Too warm for the cardigan you’re wearing but you don’t want to seem too forward by taking it off. Especially after knowing what kind of trouble he could get up to in between your legs it makes it very hard to accidentally brush against his thigh and not spontaneously combust.

Homelander turns around to look back into the room while you’re dealing with your internal turmoil. Would it be too unseemly for you to initiate?

Your thoughts are interrupted when his bare hand cradles your jaw, bringing you in for a kiss. The whimper you let out is embarrassing but you quickly lose track of anything that’s not his hot lips melting you into a puddle. Just as things are about to get good, just when you’re about to pry his lips open with your needy tongue he pulls away. He doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his hot breath while he rests his forehead against yours.

“I’ll have to set off. I need to get back to Vought tower.” He hums so close to you that you get goosebumps from the way his voice turns all low and hushed. Even though the words he’s saying are anything but good news, the attractive sound still soothes you.

“Oh-kay.” You nod. A little sad but understanding that he’s got things to get to. Every part of you is holding back from pulling him in for more but as much as your fingers twitch for him you restrain yourself.

“Come on now. Don’t sound so upset.” He gives your cheek a soft little pat before placing another peck on your lips with a chuckle from behind his closed lips.

The taste of your lips pulls him in anyway and he holds you close for a few more indulgent kisses. Upon separating you’re warm and flustered. His touch always seems to have that effect on you.

“It's just… I had a lot of fun today.” And you don't want it to be over or for it to be the last time you see him. But how do you ask him out?

While your limbs still feel like jelly, having melted into the couch, he stands up, walking over to the little dining table where he left his discarded gloves, pulling them back on.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll be back.” He clearly reads your expression and watches as you stumble while getting up, clearly wanting to see him out before he flies off.

His words alone are good enough to lift your spirits and you let yourself show that joy outwardly.

“Thanks for today.” When’s the last time you’ve ever felt this in the moment? Even if he never came back this moment would easily be a highlight you look back on.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” As if he couldn’t restrain himself his eyes snapped in between your eyes and lips, his eyelashes fluttering, lips parting as he took in the sight of you. So eager to please and be there for him. He wets his lips and your stomach flips at the display. The pink of his tongue disappearing as quickly as it appears.

His eyes soften, lips stretching into a lazy lopsided smile.

“Do I get a goodbye kiss?”

And just like that with one last kiss he’s off again, returning to his duties.

This isn’t where things end with you two. If anything, your life takes a massive turn. It’s not been the same ever since you’ve won that silly competition. And it strangely makes you want to send a gift basket to whoever organized it, no matter how much you dislike Vought itself.

At first he comes back to you seeking comfort.

He strolls in through your balcony door which you’ve gotten into the habit of leaving unlocked—just in case. It’s not like there’s anyone else eager to fly into your home. You awake at the disruption, eyes bleary and straining in the harsh light of the nightstand lamp you’ve turned on to see what’s going on.

He doesn’t explain himself as much as he just vents to you about how he’s not being respected and taken seriously. It’s the first time he’s been back since your date and you’re surprised to see him so emotive. So unlike the perfect persona or even the carefully charming guy he presented himself as during your date.

He’s already pacing back and forth, the thud of his boots bound to disturb your neighbors below. Not that either of you care. He’s too preoccupied with being angry. And you’re too frazzled by the thought of something upsetting your hero to this degree.

You see the angry tremor in his hands and the sharpness of his teeth, highlighted by the yellow night light. You snap out of the sleepy daze and you catch his gloved hand when he paces in front of you.

You pull him down next to you, cooing supportive words and showing your own anger at seeing him be so disrespected by Vought. You believe they don’t know how lucky they are to have someone like him. They should revere him, yet the things he lets slip in his anger make your chest tight, fueling the rage simmering inside you.

It’s like seeing you riled up at the way he’s being mistreated is enough to calm him down. The more you seethe the more he cools down, the energy exchange working in between you perfectly. He’s pleased to have someone in his corner. Preening at how much you parrot the words he’s saying without needing to nudge you in that direction.

Swoop-in visits like these happen more regularly. Either he comes in irritated wanting to get some frustration and anger out, fucking you throughout the night until all he can think of are your moans and cries telling him it’s too much.

Or he comes in happy, excited to share the news that his numbers are up or that the public and the on-scene reporters couldn’t stop praising him after his latest save. Those days he comes in for affection and a cuddle, wanting to hear over and over again just how well he’s done since you’ve last seen him. Treating you less like a stress ball and more like a teddy bear he’s hugged against his chest in comfort.

You start thinking how lonely he must feel. The thought that there aren’t any people around him showering him with genuine love and friendship hurts you and suddenly you want nothing more than to keep him here with you, making sure he knows just how special he is.

As much as you’ve always been devoted to this god-like being and the idea that he represented, you never got to love the person. Until now. Now the ideology alone has seeped into your never ending love, fueling the suffocating adoration you hold for him. So strong it’s eating away at you anytime you don’t get the chance to scream how much you love him.

You used to see these late night visits as something he does for his own benefit. With you always being the easiest and most effective balm to his troubled soul. You didn’t think he was serious with you. After all, this is the Homelander you’re spending every other evening with.

So when he sends you flowers out of nowhere, effectively courting you, you start thinking that this might be turning into something real.

It starts with the first delivery at your door. A gorgeous bouquet bursting at the seams, tagged with a note saying it’s from Homelander. Since then he’s made sure to supply you with the most beautiful bouquets as if to keep a reminder of him on a daily basis. You finally invest in a pretty vase, knowing it’s going to be thoroughly used and displayed.

Your home always had touches of Homelander throughout it—some might even say too many. However, as your relationship grows you come to a realization that those really only represent Vought. It’s these new touches that really represent Homelander’s presence in your life. Like how he times the flower deliveries just right so your place is never empty. Always there to remind you to keep him at the forefront of your mind. Never wavering.

You two haven’t officially said that you’re dating throughout these nighttime visits but it’s at the tip of your tongue each time he comes. You want to voice the love you carry for him like a burden. Overflowing from your arms with nowhere to go. And it feels like each second you don’t say it, it’s being uselessly spilled on the floor like sand falling from in-between your fingers.

Homelander has his own way of showing affection. Seeing as so much of his life has been in front of some sort of camera you wonder if thinking in advertising scripts and photoshoot visuals comes to him more naturally than casual and real gestures. As ever since he started with the flower deliveries he’s been showering you with gifts upon each visit. As if everyday had to be Valentine’s day and he had to bring something to symbolize the reason for his visit.

You call him out on that one day.

“You know you don’t have to bring anything right? You don’t need to bribe me.” You chuckle at the gift box he brought with him. You’ve got dozens of similar gift boxes and bags that you feel reluctant to get rid of mainly for the sentimental value but the retail price associated with the gift they hold certainly doesn’t help.

He clasps the gifted necklace around your neck. The dainty chain lays cold against your skin and your fingers gently caress the pendant with care. Your statement still rings true but you can’t help but feel giddy every time he brings you something he thought would look great on you.

“Do you not like the things I bring you?” With a perplexed expression you see him trying to do mental math, trying to figure out why you could possibly not kneel or bow in gratitude. He watches you play with your new pretty jewelry with a squint.

“No! It’s all beautiful—this one especially—just. I don’t want you to feel like that’s an obligatory part of you being here.” You laugh it off a little, still dreamily thinking about what it really means to get pampered to this degree.

He breaks your thoughts with a simple sentence.

“Maybe I want to treat my girl.”

Your eyes widen, and you let out a shocked stuttered breath.

“Your girl?”

“Yeah, duh.” He scoffs as if what he said is as obvious as the sky being blue and water wet.

“Because you’re mine, right?” You don’t see the way his eyes reflect his own complicated and simmering feelings. The tension in his jaw betrays how he needs you to acknowledge his words and speak them into an existence. But you don’t notice any of that because it’s like the dam you’ve been doing your best to hold together with safety pins finally bursts.

You’re nodding feverishly. No longer able to hold back you’re possessed to blurt out the words that have been threatening to fall off the precipice of your tongue for weeks.

“I love you.”

Homelander’s eyes widen. Surprised by your admission just as much as you are. Your heart is racing, suddenly feeling insane for thinking this was anything more than simple fun to him. The knee-jerk response to apologize spills easily from your lips.

“I’m sorry—,” but instead he interrupts you by cradling your jaw in his bare hands, stepping closer.

“Don’t be sorry.” He says in a low rumble, sending shivers down your spine. He leans in to give you a tender kiss. Just barely slotting in between your parted lips, pressing them against his. Before you get the chance to continue he pulls away with enough distance to speak up.

He breathes out, eyes squeezed shut in longing which to an untrained eye would just look like pure pain and frustration. But not to you. You’ve learned to read him better.

He nuzzles his face against yours, dragging his lips across your cheek until he reaches your ear, growling a weak, “say it again.”

You’ve partially gotten used to the timbre of his voice in your ear. Capable of having a conversation without getting worked up by every word he says but the way he’s now needily begging in your ear has your body erupt in goosebumps. He doesn’t need to say please for you to hear it anyway.

“I-I love you.” You whimper out. The emotion alone feels thick in your throat, as if it was clogging up your airways anytime you come up for air. Your heart is pounding, you’re strung up, the butterflies in your stomach make you antsy.

His hold on your jaw tightens. With a sharp intake of breath he smashes your lips together. No longer composed and tender. Your teeth nearly clash as he’s pressed you close to him. He’s prying your lips open with his, his whimpers easily falling into the press of your lips.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

You don’t want to cry but you’re so overwhelmed with emotion the burn that turns your eyes glassy spills over and you’re dripping tears down your cheeks in pure emotional instability.

“Again.”

And each time he asks he sounds more wrecked.

“I love you.”

Homelander catches the tears with his tongue right before kissing the salty taste into your mouth. Not letting any of your love get wasted. You grab onto him, grasping where you can. Your hands tangle in between his as you wrap them around his neck. One hand grips as much of the fabric of his suit it can while the other tangles in his hair, pulling on it for support more than anything.

You feel like you’re drowning. The intensity of the moment makes you gasp for air but it’s like Homelander kisses it back into your lungs like a lifeline. Hearing his shattered whimpers soothes you, his own need fueling yours, filling the void your tears are leaving behind.

He lifts you up and with practiced ease you automatically wrap your legs around him.

He leads you both to the bedroom while he’s continuously prompting you to continue declaring your love to him. Each again, again, again you reward with the three words that make him feverish and mad. The more you say it the less your heart feels like it’s about to explode from the burden it’s been carrying for too long.

Homelander quite literally rips your clothes off, not caring that he’s leaving his own recent purchases in tatters. He doesn’t want to separate his lips from your neck where he’s kissing trails across each inch of your skin.

You don’t have the luxury to treat his suit with the same carelessness. Even if you wanted to, the tough molded material would make it impossible. Instead you do what you can. Unclasping his belt, pulling at the front of his suit, pushing his pants down where you can reach.

He helps you with taking off the rest of it until he’s on top of you, skin to skin. You rarely get the luxury of lying with him fully stripped and each time you’re shocked at how hot he runs. Now his hot body is making you melt under the heat alone.

Neither of you have stopped kissing with the same intense need that has been laying there dormant for months. Anytime you have the chance you repeat the same words over and over again until they’re all you know how to say.

It’s the first time sex has felt anything more than a physical relief he comes to you for. You’re barely keeping it together as he nudges your legs a little open, sliding his hand down your body, his palm blazing hot as the anticipation makes you clench your core.

It’s by no means either one of your first times, nor it is the first time you’ve been together yet you’ve never felt more nervous. The first touch he descends onto your clit feels like a lightning bolt crackling down your spine, spreading the tingles out to your toes and fingertips.

“Ahh hah—fuck. Want it so bad, don’t you?” He looks as broken as he sounds when he hisses at the feeling of your soaked pussy. It makes his fingers glide too easily, making it harder to give your clit the precise rhythm he’s learned to make you see stars with.

His attempt at his normal dirty talk is disrupted by his keen moans and broken whimpers. Part of you wonders whether his super senses include being able to feel other people’s sensations with the way he’s acting as if it was him getting his body set on fire.

You hum and ahh in response, your tongue feeling incapable of saying anything but the words you’ve been finally allowed to repeat over and over again.

His fingers easily slip inside the sloppy mess you’ve made for him and he moans right into the kiss he leans in to steal from your lips. And it feels good. The friction is perfect, his fingers are hitting the right spot inside you and the loud squelch is embarrassing and intoxicating in equal parts. Yet it’s not what you want.

It takes all your strength to reach down and pull his hand out of you, as instinctively you’re already clenching around the all too familiar emptiness you whine at every other time when he’s done with you.

“I want you. Please. Just you.” You manage to breathe out, your hand reaching over for his hard cock. You give him a few shaky strokes, smearing his leaking precum across the entire length.

“Alright. Uh huh, okay. I’ll give it to you.” And he’s just as out of it as you as his normal cocky one-liners just break into a lot of grunts and stutters.

He wedges himself in between your thighs, spreading them wide open. His lips part with a wistful sigh while his eyes haze over with lust at the sight of your pussy spread ope, generously glistening with slick all made for him.

He aligns his cock with your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. He’s just as strung out as you are. He splits you open with a single thrust, your slick pulling him in with an easy glide.

“I love you.” For the first time the confession spills from Homelander’s lips. A relief just as palpable falls upon him. It’s a different story for you. The words cause more tears to spill, a wet hiccup leaving your throat as you clench around him.

“Shh, shh.” He hushes you sweetly, already reaching back for you.

He lays his body flush on top of yours and kisses your tears away, the heat and weight of his body on top yours grounds you. He repeats the words over and over again in between wet, messy kisses. He ruts into you in shallow thrusts as if he doesn’t want to part from you any second longer.

Nothing in the world exists but you two and neither one of you can believe how perfect you really are for each other. You’ve always felt like the way you love was overwhelming. It left the other person choking on the overwhelming viscosity of it all. Homelander isn’t like that. To him your love is a breath of fresh air.

As long as you love him with the same unyielding intensity he’s yours. At this point, he wouldn’t know how to live without it.

He kisses you in a way that says just that. Needy and broken yet utterly completed by you.

You’re both so worked up with the overflowing emotions it doesn’t take much more than his frenzied grinding to make you both reach the release that’s as emotional as it physical. Maybe even more so.

Because the reward isn’t just a good orgasm. It’s the love that fills the air, spilling into every empty crevice you didn’t manage to fill with your bodies.

Homelander’s whimpers resemble cries as he finishes inside you right as you flutter around him with the toe-curling orgasm wracking your nerves.

It takes you a little while to regain your mental faculties after such an emotionally draining affair. You feel boneless, your limbs feel like jelly and you just lie there dazed. Focusing on the way your heart beats loud even to your ears.

Homelander is doing the same thing. Listening to your heartbeat with his head on your chest.

After a long while you both pull yourself together. Still in bed but now you’ve managed to strike up a normal conversation again. Talking about everything and nothing.

You lie like this for what feels like hours. Having changed positions you rest your head against his chest, ear pressed to his pecs to listen in on the steady beat of his heart.

After this reveal your brain recognizes your relationship as the utmost priority. Because of that your eyes lock onto the Kuddle Buddy plush resting just a foot away from Homelander’s head. As if you were locking onto an enemy. You pluck it from the pillow, squeezing it in your hand.

You’re staring at it, still clutching it too hard.

“What got you thinking so hard? You’re making my head hurt from how tense you are.” Homelander interrupts you from your thoughts.

“Just you. This. I can’t look at this stuff these days without—I don’t know—rage? To know how much Vought has wronged you.” You furrow your eyebrows, assessing the innocent plush toy while it’s staring back at you with its stitched grimace.

“That’s what the toy reminds you of, really? It should remind you of me.”

“It doesn’t anymore.” Your furrowed expression slowly melts into one of content as your hand presses against your new necklace. “Things like these do.”

“And these.” Your fingers continue to travel up your neck where they tap at the darkened patches you feel he has left behind. With soft nipping and sucking he left your neck coloured in all shades.

He plucks the plush toy from your hands, throwing it somewhere across the room with thankfully not enough strength to knock anything else over. You’re pretty damn comfortable and you’d rather not get up to assess any damage.

“Maybe I should give you more reminders then.”

You squeal as he easily pulls you up so his lips can meet yours, kissing your worries out of your mind.

Homelander lands on your balcony with a soft thud. It’s late in the afternoon, earlier than he normally arrives, and he doesn’t want to attract unwanted attention. Already predicting the shit Madelyn would put him through if he got caught regularly perusing outside some random person’s apartment.

His person’s apartment really. You’re not just a random boring nobody.

He makes his way in quietly, closing the door and stepping in. Each time coming back to your apartment has felt more like coming home than he’s ever felt at Vought. You’ve arranged your life around him. He’s noticed you cancel plans, call off events just so you could stay in in the evening, waiting for him to make his return.

You even make space for him in your small apartment. The state of which he’d normally scoff at but it’s hard to mock your financial situation when you manage to make the place feel warm.

His presence left its mark in the gifts you happily displayed or the flowers you always took good care of.

And of course, the insane collection of merchandise you’ve spent years accumulating.

Wait.

Where is everything?

Homelander looks around, breaking out of his routine and instead he scans the surroundings as if it’s the first time he’s ever been here. Only now does he realize that all the usual merchandise carrying his likeness is gone. No posters on the walls. No action figures on the shelves. No funko pops. No collectibles. Nothing.

Homelander feels his blood pressure rise. There’s no way you’d want to get rid of him. Not you too. You love him. You wouldn’t do that.

He finally notices the black trash bags pushed into the kitchen, still open and overflowing with all the things missing from your walls.

His stomach flips.

No. Nonono. This can’t be happening.

You can’t get rid of him like this. He can’t lose you.

Not after he’s finally tasted what real love in cooking tastes like. Or what it’s like to wake up next to someone who instead isn’t pushing you away straight after sex. Someone who makes an effort for him. Not out of fear but out of love.

He mentally compares everything you’ve changed his perception on.

Like when you give him a gift or help him out it’s different. Vought employees being at his beck and call could never compare.

He’s the most powerful man in the world, with means that don’t feel like they have an end yet he could never buy the love you give freely. For once, love doesn’t feel like pulling teeth. It feels like a warm embrace on a cold winter night.

You make it easy. You don’t fake it. And most importantly you do it unconditionally. Love him through thick and thin, the devotion to him a part of your very core. Your love is overwhelming, oozing and sticky like he’s never gonna be able to get rid of it. Just like you could never get rid of him.

You’re the only one who hasn’t left him.

Exactly. It can’t be. You wouldn’t.

This has to be some kind of a mistake.

The shuffle of your slippers against the floor breaks him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looks up sharply. Seeking some sort of explanation.

“Hey baby. You’re early today—what’s wrong?” The smile drops from your face as quickly as he sees it and it’s only then he realizes his hand is shaking. He squeezes it into a fist, the leather creaking with the pressure as he takes in a labored breath with a jittery shake to his head.

“W-uh-what is… What are you doing?” He blinks rapidly, shaking his head pretending that his voice doesn’t quiver and waver the way it does.

“Bit of spring cleaning. After we talked the other night I just can’t look at this stuff and not think how much Vought has used you. I don’t want those reminders. It’s not what I thought it was and now that you opened my eyes to it, I can’t forget. So. Out with it.” You say so casually, not picking up on the panic he’s been going through in his head.

“Oh—okay.” He lets out a visible breath of relief, his posture relaxing. “I thought—” His jaw tightens and he looks away. Thought so heartbreaking, he doesn't want to give it voice.

“You thought I was getting rid of you?” You stop what you are doing. Putting the box on the couch and instead you walk up to him, hand on his jaw you turn him back to look at you.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” You kiss him, and Homelander melts right into it. He lets himself melt into the loving embrace of your pliant lips.

“Good. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” When you pull away he puts his hands on your jaw, tilting your head as if he was inspecting you. Seeing if what you’re saying is true. And he can’t see a single speck of a lie with the steady beats of your heart and the taste of love on your lips.

“So what are you doing with all of it?”

“Selling it, donating or trashing some I guess.”

“Why not sell it all?”

“You can buy a Homelander poster or card at any shop for a few bucks. I'm not gonna bother with those.”

“What if I sign them?”

“Oh please don’t waste your time. You’re not here to be a show pony.”

“Nonsense, come on. Bring it out.”

Homelander ends up taking the stack of posters with his or the Seven’s likeness from the top of the trash bag, placing them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He sits down, hooking his cape out of the way. He picks up a pen off the table already signing the first poster.

Part of him is still upset that you feel like throwing a part of him away. Is this part of him not good enough for you anymore? It’s how he found you, how he got to know you and now it feels like you’re throwing it away.

As if you could read his thoughts you sit down next to him, placing your hand on top of his as he’s halfway through his signature.

His head snaps up towards you, expression clearly guarded while he looks you over with his piercing blue gaze.

He carries his upset so visibly it would be hard even for someone as unaware as you to miss it. His smile is tight, not even attempting to reach his eyes.

You pull the pen out of his grip, instead wrapping your hand around his. The other one goes to his hair, scratching your nails down his scalp until you reach his undercut where you play with the shortly buzzed hair.

“I’m not getting rid of you. Not now. Not ever.”

At that he leans into you, nearly purring at the pleasure your scalp massage brings him. The way you touch him with no hesitation will never cease to amaze him. There’s enough love pouring off you to almost fill the black hole in his heart.

It was exhilarating to have someone so eager to keep him in their life. Everyone else has just pushed him away, entertained him until they got what they wanted. Not you. You give and give and give. Sometimes he’s scared you’ll run out of love to shower him with. However, one look at you tells him that the love you carry feels just as much of a burden as his need for it does to him. You free each other by sharing the love. You feed his insatiable beast of a heart and he lets you burst the dam free without feeling like you’re not allowed to.

The posters are forgotten about. Any hurt brushed away with a press of his lips to yours. Needy and hungry, wanting to see if you can prove your words with actions. Again and again.

And you do. Like you’ve done a hundred times before and just like you will do thousands of times over.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged when I post a new Homelander fic)

@morishitoshi @ker0senebunny @itsvaleriesucka @thychuvaluswife

@nervoussystemss @littlegaaby @natliecole @thatvintagefanboy

@infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @hom3landr @mrsdesade

@nommingonfood

#yayyyy it's done #I need to learn to keep my chapters at a reasonable word count honestly #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #my writing #the boys fanfiction

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musaslullaby · 3 months ago

Text

Kimi Antonelli x fem reader

Summary: Kimi's girlfriend is planning a surprise for him.

Warning: only fluff, au instagram

Face: random people on Pinterest, Kimi Antonelli and his friends.

a/n: Here's my way of wishing Kimi a happy birthday, trying once again to use this style of writing.

Masterlist

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪

Kimi.antonelli

Description: Summer vacation is almost over, and we'll be back on track soon, but in the meantime, let's have some more fun.

liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc and other 132143334

Yn_official: I miss you.

Kimiantonelli: I miss you too❤️

KimiYnbaby_: Wait, didn’t Yn go with him?

f1lover: No, she had family commitments.

KimiYnbaby_: okok

Olliebearman: Don’t have too much fun without us.

Yn_official: I’m keeping an eye on you, Antonelli.

Yn_loveu: All Formula One and Two fans in America will chase Kimi on behalf of Yn.

Yn_official

Stories blocked for Kimi.antonelli

Kimi.antonelli

Description: Family reunited❤️

liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc,Yn_official and other 132143334

Yn_official: I love you and missed you so much, but this doesn’t make up for the sleep I lost picking you up at the airport.

arthur_leclerc: What a terrible boyfriend.

Yn_official: You can say that again.

Kimi.antonelli: Bullying even on my birthday.

Kimimylife: Guys, do you think he knows?

Yn_kimi: No, he doesn’t.

AntoKimi: I’m just waiting for someone to ruin everything😂

Kimi.antonelli: What are you all plotting?

Olliebearman: You’ll understand.

Yn_official: Shut that damn mouth, Ollie.

Olliebearman: At your command🫡

Kimi.antonelli: You guys scare me.

Kimi.antonelli

liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc,Paularon and other 132143334

Description: Sports and relax with the boys.

Kimi_Yn: Guys, the plan has begun.

Olliebearma: Dude, you suck at tennis.

Paularon: I beat him three times.

Kimi.antonelli: Those are just details.

Yn_official

Blocked for Kimi.antonelli

liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc and other 132143334

Description: Preparations have begun 🤫🤫

Yourfriend_: Stop taking photos and come help us.

Yn_official: Sorry.

Olliebearman: We’ll keep him here for a bit longer, but he’s starting to miss you.

YnandKimifan: How sweet, Kimi wants to spend his birthday with Yn.

Ynlover: Don’t make him wait too long, Yn.

User90: Guys, I’m waiting for the video of Kimi’s reaction.

Lovef1: Oh my God, I hope they do it.

Yn_official: Start bringing home the chicken.

Paularon: We’re on our way.

Olliebearman: As you wish, future Mrs. Antonelli.

Kimimylife: Oh my God, I can’t wait!

Loverkimyn: We’re more excited than they are.

Kimi.antonelli

liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc,Yn_official and other 132143334

Description: Best birthday ever, thank you for this surprise party. I really don’t know how to thank you.

I had so much fun, and now I feel officially ready to start the season again.

A special thanks to the love of my life (I know this was your idea) I love you so much.

Yn_official: Trust me, after this party, you’ll need at least a month to recover.

Yourfried_: Ollie drank so many shots that he passed out on the couch.

Olliebearman: Hey, you don’t have permission to post that photo, and when the hell did you take it?

LoverKimi: But Yn ignoring the last part of the post😂😂😂

Arthur_leclerc: Oh yes, that’s true love.

Olliebearman: Yn, please respond to Kimi’s “I love you” before he starts crying.

Yn_official: Of course, I love my favorite drama queen.

Kimi.antonelli: 1. I wasn't crying 2. I'm not a drama queen 3. I love u too.

Ynqueen: Yn looks amazing in the third photo.

Kimilover: Can we talk about Kimi and Yn in the fourth photo?

Ynkimi: I wish we had a video of Yn and Kimi’s amazing voices.

Arthur_leclerc: By the way, I’m mad because you put Charles on the cake and not me.

Kimi.antonelli: Please, that cake is beyond amazing.

user09: Whoever chose it deserves a prize

Yn_official: Here I am to claim my prize.

Charles_leclerc: Inferiority complex, Arthur?

Arthur_leclerc: You’re not important enough to give me an inferiority complex.

Yn_official: Arthur has officially roasted his brother.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #fanfiiction #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #kimi antonelli #ollie bearman #paul aron #arthur leclerc #charles leclerc #cl16 #formula 2 #formula racing #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 x you #andrea kimi antonelli #Andrea kimi antonelli x reader

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cuverale · 1 year ago

Text

twin flame - t.c.

a/n: I wasn’t going to post this but I couldn’t resist it so here it is. I’ll probably make 2 or 3 more parts of this. Enjoy!

tchalamet

liked by robertdowneyjr, zendaya, florencepugh and 13,395,207 others

tchalamet 1095 days with you. thank you for making me the luckiest guy on earth. so ready for round four. let’s do it again, my twin flame.

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yourusername let’s gooo 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻

tchalamet 🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻

yourusername loveyouloveyouloveyou

tchalamet loveyoumoreloveyoumore

zendaya 🥹🥹🥹

robertdowneyjr happy anniversary you two, kiddos.

yourusername thank you 🥺

tomholland2013 so happy for you two mate!

tchalamet thank you so much brother!

ynmybaby AWWWW 💗💗

ynandtimmy did he just call her his twin flame??? 🥹🥹🥹🥹

timotheefan15 YES HE DID SIS 🤧🤧

timochalamtt time flies 🥹🤧

timmyfan i remember the day i learned they were dating 🥲

ynfan2 i’m so happy for them 💞

pauline.chalamet HAPPY 3 YEAR ANNIVERSARY MY BABIES 💗🥹✨

tchalamet THANK YOU PAAAAAULINE!!! 💫🦄💗

timmytimmy EVERYONE, SAY THANK YOU ZENDAYA FOR INTRODUCING THESE TWO

ynmybaby Thank you Zendaya! ❤️❤️

ynandzendayafan Thank you sooo much queen!!

timofann thank you Zendaya!!!!

ynandtimmy Thank you queen!

tchalamet THANK YOU ZENDAYA!!!!

zendaya you’re welcome my babies!!

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yourusername

liked by tchalamet, zendaya, kyliejenner and 14,395,175 others

yourusername 3 years, 1095 days. yet i still feel like we met yesterday. i can’t and probably never will get enough of you. let’s do it again, mon amour.

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tchalamet i love you so much it hurts.

yourusername good to know our feelings are mutual sir.

florencepugh crying rn 🥺💙

chanelofficial Happy Anniversary you two!

timofann Chanel celebrating their ambassadors anniversary. Wowza 🫨

zendaya seeing you two so happy makes me feel like crying i’m not even kidding

yourusername babyyyy 😭

zendaya i’m a proud mama

yourusername love ya mama

ynmybaby i love their friendship so much 🥺

zendayafann I adored them since their Disney times 😭

ynandzendayafan and look at them now. they found their soulmates and living their best life 🥹

ynsbabygirl they deserve it 🫶🏻

tomholland2013 love you guys!!!

yourusername love you too!!!

ynsbabygirl it’s supposed to be 4 years but- 😭

chalafann ugh I wish they never broke up but I’m grateful bc they’re happy now.

ynmybaby not Kylie liking the post 💀

timmytimmy i was laughing for hours

ynsbabygirl i’m so embarrassed for her

randomuser why? what did i miss? 🥲

timotea0 long story short, according to some “sources” kylie and timothee was dating since the new years. kris jenner and some pr team fueled the story by some pics but none of them actually worked. bc even though him and yn broke up at that time he was still so in love with her so he denied everything about the rumors and admitted that he was still in love with yn. then tom holland and zendaya made them get back together.

randomuser oh god, what a loser she is.

timotheefan15 ikr

kidcudi you guys are so cute

stephanebak my guy and my girl being the cutest couple

pauline.chalamet ok but when are you gonna be my sister officially????

*liked by tchalamet

ynandtimmy WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!

ynmybaby Y/n Chalamet era soon?????

timmychalamet9 omg omg omg omg

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voguemagazine

15,395,186 likes

voguemagazine Y/n L/n and Timothée Chalamet are recently seen at a dinner in Venice with Zendaya and Tom Holland, celebrating the couple’s anniversary.

view complete

ynmybaby my fam 🥰🥰🥰

ynsbabygirl i think they’re on a well deserved vacation together 🤧

timotheefan1 they are! 🥹

ynandtimmy the way he looks at her 🥺

zendayafan i love their friendship so much

tomhollandfann seeing them together makes me even more excited for their upcoming movies and euphoria’s new season! I miss Zendaya and Y/n together!

ynsbabygirl same here! I still can’t decide which one should i go first. Y/n and Tom’s or Dune 2???

zendayafan0 ok but i need all of them in a movie together 😩

timotheefan15 same girl same 🤧

chalafann i love how he nuzzles his head on her neck awwwww

ynandzendayafan they’re having so much fun 🥹

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zendaya

liked by tchalamet, tomholland2013, yourusername and 13,495,184 others

zendaya sisters having fun. period.

view comments

yourusername so you’re not gonna mention how you tried to sink me into the water huh??

zendaya i have no idea what you’re talking about miss

tomholland2013 should i be offended by the way you didn’t post at least one picture of us or..? You didn’t even mentioned that we took them :(

tchalamet you should get used to it bro🥲

tomhollandstan LMAOOO

ynsbabygirl aww poor boys lolll

ynmybaby POWER DUO 👑

zendayafan45 SLAYYY 💅🏻

timotea0 🥹🫶🏻

tommyfan1 you two are sooo cute

zendayafan9 love you guyss

florencepugh i missed you two 🥺

yourusername we missed you too bby 🤧

zendaya come over so we can ditch the boys and hang out together!!!

tchalamet ouch

tomholland2013 hey!

tayrussell cuties ❤️

yourusername 💋💋💋

zendaya love youuu

ynandzendayafan MOTHERS!! 🛐

ynsbabygirl i want what they have 😩

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tomholland2013’s story

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lunajay33 · 6 months ago

Text

New Addition🤎

Summary: Being Sam Winchesters long time girlfriend was wonderful until he had family business and was on the road all the time, but what happens when you find out you’re pregnant?

Pairing: Early Seasons Sam Winchester x f!reader

•Masterlist•

Sitting in my apartment missing waking up to sharing the bed with Sam, cuddling against his warm body, sitting on the counter as he makes us pancakes, getting ready for college parties together, everything we use to do now just memories

“Come on Sam I miss you, when are you gonna be home?” I sighed into the phone

“I’m sorry baby I miss you too but Dean and I are working some jobs and….”

“Jobs? I thought you were just looking for your dad? Sam are you okay I’m worried” he’s been gone for a month now and it was miserable he helped pay half the rent and it was a struggle by myself now and he’s my soulmate and being apart really wanes on the heart

“Well we’re still looking just making some stops along the way” I could hear Dean in the back making fun of him calling me baby

“You know I can’t be mad at you I’m just……I just miss you but I hope everything is going good with Dean and you find your dad” he told me all about his problems in the past with his family but all I wanted was for him to be happy

“You know I miss you too baby, wish I could see you, sleeping in these shitty motel rooms doesn’t compare to WOAH Dean stop hitting me!” Dean obviously didn’t want to hear the end of that making me cheer up a bit

“Well just call me more when you get the time but I have class, I love you Sam”

“Love you too Angel” the call ended and I was forced to go along with my daily routine, get ready, go to class and come back to an empty apartment

It went on like this for 2 more months and it just got worse, his calls became less frequent maybe once a week, I fell into a deep sadness that only Sam Winchester could brighten, and I became sick at first I thought it was a flu maybe a stomach bug but after talking to some friends and one test later and I find out I’m pregnant, I have to be atleast 3 months along since that’s the time he’s been gone

After having an hour long breakdown I dialed Sam hoping he had some time to talk and not on another job

“Angel why are you calling so late?” His voice groggy

“Sammy……we need to talk” I stutter out still emotional

“What’s wrong are you okay?”

“I’m pre……I can’t tell you over the phone I need to see you…..please” I beg praying he’ll just come home

“I don’t know Dean and I are…”

“Sam this is really important what ever you’re doing can wait, I need you”

“Okay we’ll be there by the time you wake up”

I woke up exhausted from the stress of the day before, I’m pregnant actually pregnant under normal circumstances I’d be happy starting a family with Sam but with how absent he’s been I feel him drifting away

I willed myself out of bed and pulled on one of Sam’s hoodies that hung down to my knees and wore a pair of pair of black legging, running a warm cloth over my face to freshen up when I heard a rapid knocking at the front door

My heart filled with panic and I was becoming hesitant about coming clean, I opened the door and there he stood, towering over me like a god yet still so soft on me

He swooped down and lifted me easily into his arms and held me close, being back in his arms just felt right it felt like home and so I broke down again as I clung to him

“Sammy” I whined as I hide my tear streaked face in his shoulder smelling his oh so wonderful cologne

He brought me inside and sat me down on the couch, Dean looming in the room after he rummaged for food in our kitchen

“Angel what’s wrong? You don’t look so good” he asked as he stroked my hair helping calm me

“You’ve been gone so long and I understand but it’s been a hard 3 months alone, I can’t sleep, I can’t think straight, I’m broke and……..”

“And what?” Dean intervened making my heart jump, Sam sending him a glare

“I thought I was just sick but…….im pregnant” I felt so vulnerable as he just looked at me seeming to be in shock

“You’re joking” Dean groaned

“I didn’t mean too…..im sorry” I say as my lip trembled

“Oh Angel this isn’t your fault it’s mine and I shouldn’t have left you alone so long like that I don’t know what I was thinking” he sighs as he holds me to his chest

“Family business Sammy” Dean stated

“Dean stop”

“Sam if being with your family is so important and doing all these jobs I understand but if that’s what you want then I don’t want to hold you back if this isn’t what you want anymore”

“What? No of course I want you I want this, you’re my soulmate and I’m never letting you go again, you deserve to know the truth”

“Sam don’t” deans assertive tone booming in the room

After Sam told me everything about this new supernatural world I was sceptic at first but honestly it connected a lot of dots

“So these jobs you work are important but I can’t go months being apart again”

“You can come with us, just for while you’re pregnant and then when you give birth we can go home and settle” he said with a bright smile, that smile I fell in love with

“Are you sure Dean won’t hate me” I whisper to him

“He’ll lighten up trust me Angel”

Sam helped me pack all the my clothes and personal items I needed and we were off on the road, it was a nice car with lots of room for me to stretch out in the back

“So where are we going?”

“There’s signs of a vampires nest in a small town, going to check it out see what’s going on” Dean says his eyes still on the road, he still made me a bit nervous though

“Umm are vampires one of the easier monsters you deal with?” I ask trying to make conversation

“They can be, but a nest of them can be a bitch”

They go on to tell me all the cases they’ve worked since they’ve been gone and it’s crazy to wrap my head around, after driving all day we finally got to the town settling into a little motel room

“I’m gonna go pick us up some dinner” Dean said as he threw his bag on his bed and left

I sat on the bed me and Sam are sharing sighing once the door closed

“What’s wrong Angel?”

“I just hate being a burden to you guys I know how stressful this is for you plus having this baby….”

“Hey you’re not a burden I’m just glad you’re with me now, being cooped up with Dean 24/7 can become a bit macho” he says making me laugh

“Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?” I ask as he places his hand on my tiny bump

“I’m happy with either, you know my mother would have loved you you’re as kind as she was, well atleast that’s what Dean says about her”

“You know this baby is the luckiest in the world to have you as their father, and such a handsome one at that” he smiled as he pulled me into his lap pulling me close

“I’ve missed this, holding you” his hand runs down my back sending shivers

“Kissing you” his lips gently press to my collar bone making me gasp

“Being with you at night” the door bursts open interrupting our moment, I jump out of his lap and their stands Dean and what I believe to be their father from old pictures Sam has showed me

“Sammy trying to get some” Dean laughed making my body heat in embarrassment

“Who’s this?” John asked his voice full of disapproval

“Dad where have you been? Never mind that right now, this is y/n my girlfriend”

“And what the hell is she doing here son?” I felt little under his gaze

“She can’t be alone she’s pregnant” Sam said confidently as he held my hand

“Sam what the hell were you thinking, you can’t have a pregnant girl doing this job, you need to be focused”

“Maybe I should just go home” I say as I go to pick up my bag

“No! You’re staying Angel I’m not letting you go again” he said as he wiped a stray tear I didn’t know had escaped my waterline

“She’s family now dad, you can’t push her away cause if you do then you’re just gonna push me away too, for good this time” John sighed and gave a look to Dean

“Tomorrow we’re going to stake out the vampires nest, be ready” he said sternly before stomping out of the room leaving an awkward cloud looming over the three of us

“Come on you two let’s eat” Dean said in a lighter tone obviously trying to pick up what his father ruined

We ate at the little table chatting about random things, how Sam and I met, our first date and how nervous Sam was, almost everything we had together up until this point

“Have you told your family about the baby?” Dean asked after he took a swig of beer

“I don’t really have family, I was raised in an orphanage and when I turned 18 I was pretty much on my own, I stayed in the schools dorms until Sam and I moved in together, plus our friends kind of changed after first year so it’s mostly just been Sammy and I”

“I’m sorry”

“Oh no it’s fine I’m happy with the way my life turned out it lead me to Sam after all” I smile looking at Sam who had that loving look, he was so gentle compared to his brother

“You guys are going to make me hurl”

It’s been a crazy and stressful 6 months but I’m now in the last week of pregnancy and to say I’m scared is an understatement, I’m terrified but I feel like I can’t tell Dean and Sam with what they face everyday, this is probably a walk in the park to them

They were out right now hunting a werewolf as I paced back and forth in yet another motel room, I’ve been having cramps in my stomach since I woke up but I just thought it could be indigestion from the food we ate last night but they’ve only gotten stronger, walking helps but this could just be Braxton’s hocks I try to tell my self that is u til my water breaks, I’m hesitant to call Sam because of the case but like he said this is more important, I dialed hoping he’d answer

“Hey we’re on our way back now did you need us to pick you up anything?”

“Sam my water broke” I could hear him tell Dean to drive faster

“Okay just hold on we’ll be there soon, just do the breathing exercises like we practiced”

“Okay I’ll try” I breath deeply as another contraction hit a whimper left me but I know it’s going to get much worse

Minutes later Sam and Dean busy through the hotel room, Dean get my to go bag and Sam gently picks me up and brings me to the car sitting with me in the back

“Sammy I’m scared”

“We’re almost to the hospital hold on kiddo” Dean said trying to reassure me, he’d warmed up to me over the months like Sam said

“You can do this, think of our little girl or boy we’re about to meet” I nodded gripping his hand, we got to the hospital and were settled in a private room, Sam at my side and Dean on the couch used for husband or partners

“What if something happens?” I ask as he brushes my hair back

“Everything will be okay, you’re the strongest woman I know”

“It’s time Mrs Winchester” the doctor said making my heart swell at the name, he was wrong but I didn’t care

After some agonizing pushes that pressure was gone replaced by a little babies cries, the nurse laid the baby on my chest and she was beautiful, she had Sam big green hazel eyes and had light brown hair

“Congrats on a baby girl” the nurse said, they cleaned me up and left the room letting the four of us settle

“What are you going to name my little niece?” Dean asked now standing on the other side of the bed mesmerized by her

“How about Luna Mary Winchester” I say looking up to Sam for his opinion

“I love it, I love you, both of you” he smiled as he played with Lunas little fingers

“The three of us just became four”

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