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#Sorry for the long ramble. I'm stuck

ihatebrainstorm · 1 month

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Ok I got a bunch of work I need to finish but also just need to spitball some long winded Half Life/Portal universe Transformer crossover thoughts:

(Will contain Half Life 1 & 2, Portal 1 & 2, Aperture Desk Job, and ofc TF IDW spoilers btw)

Perceptor fitting as more of a Gordon Freeman role in Half Life's Black Mesa Institute bc he matches the more gritty atmosphere and serious tone of the Half Life games + Both Gordon and Perceptor taking on similar "scientists by trade, but still a competent as hell fighter when the situation calls for it" roles... Their appearances even kinda give similar vibes? But that could just be me

Brainstorm's fascination with the Dead Universe in IDW working well with Black Mesa's dubious research into Xen and all the alien life there- I can see him being incredibly interested in headcrab parasites? But he also sorta matches more with the eccentric type of experiments ran by Aperture Science.. Turrets and portal gun technology seem right up his alley,, (Also not to mention the mantis society human DNA stuff has weird Brainstorm type experimentation written all over it)

Percy working at Black Mesa while BS is in Aperture bc they're rival companies etc. etc. u get the gist hopefully

I need to look at Portal's lore again bc it's been a long while and I don't remember what his story was, but whenever I look at that one photo of Doug Rattman, he reminds me of BS sdkfs

Shockwave and Glados. I know technically Glados and Caroline are separate, but the parallels behind Caroline/Glados and Shockwave's backstories are still there ksdkfsd- What if Glados and Shockwave swapped places actually, and Shockwave were to run Aperture..... hm

Domestication and their parallels to the procedure done by the Combine to create stalkers.....

Whirl having a pet headcrab? Like Lamaar? Maybe?? Similar to his scraplets I dunno

Brainstorm would have so much fun with potato Glados and all the personality cores I think

Rodimus meeting and yelling at the G-man because I think it'd be funny

Brainstorm jokingly speculating that the G-man's briefcase is a plagiarized version of his time-case bc of how he's always carrying it around, able to blip in and out of random portals, as well as control time-

#A completely unorganized collection of random ass ideas surrounding decade old games and random ass crossovers #mainly about BS and Percy bc science stuff and I'm still not sure where I'd place Nautica? Engie Nautica still stuck to my mind #feel free to correct me on lore bits btw lol I can't remember it all fully it's been a while #also sorry if the grammars off.. im dead tired rn and about to take a nap ok gn #random rambles #long text #half life portal and transformers crossover shenanigans

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cloning-vat-mistake · 9 months

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Quick engagement test for something me and a couple of friends are throwing around:

If I made some sort of Google form/poll/something else(?) to ask folks about what their fav yog ships are, would people be interested?

I'm mostly intrigued by seeing the data for what some of the the most popular ships in the fandom are, and also why if folks wanna share.

The form will most likely ask for your top 3 ships, and have an optional place to put in why you like them! (This way people can add some smaller ships they really like as well as bigger ones that may be more popular)

#yogscast #this is also up to any amount of changes! if anyone has a preferred method for doing this or suggestions for how to make it better-#please tell me! I wanna survey as many people as possible bc I want a big test group!!!#I'm genuinely interested in what ships have stuck around in peoples minds this long and to see what new stuff I haven't seen before :)#I'll probably release all the ship reasonings in a document after the fact too (as long as people are ok with it!)#this would also preferably be only for yogscast fans so the data isn't too skewed #moth.txt #sorry for rambling lol. lot on my mind !!!#this will be post-ship bracket but I need some time to set it up #I would appreciate if folks could rb this around!

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attleboy · 4 months

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i thought too hard about insect motifs got a little silly and made... a lot lmao these versions of the characters are from @sm-baby's amazing digital carnival au!! full images and rambling about insect choices are gonna get stuck under the cut... it'll be a bit long and i will be putting photos of real bugs down there so be mindful

pomni: "butterfly"

inspirational species are black swallowtails mostly for the shape, and malay red harlequins mostly for the pattern

carnival pomni's actually the one that kickstarted this whole set... i drew her hat in a way that reminded me of butterflies, went "wait...", then i fully leaned into it :)

jax: "centipede"

there was no specific species for jax. without being able to use color, they were too similar to pick any out... i have included a giant centipede just for reference though since it was mainly larger centipedes i used for inspiration

anddd there's a little bonus sketch for how pre-sentience jax might've looked with a centipede outfit... he gets a bug scarf and some goggles!

ragatha: "ladybug"

inspirational species was the twice-stabbed ladybug chosen because the inverted color scheme looked the best out of all the ones i tried, and also because it's a metal name and we know ragatha's good with a knife... stabby stab... i did add more than two spots to the dress though, it just looks cooler lol

gangle: "spider"

inspiration was the spinybacked orb weaver which i was absolutely ecstatic to find because come on that is the perfect spider for gangle like look at it!! it looks like her mask, it's got red, it's got gold on the limbs, literally twinning

zooble: "mantis"

inspiration was the spiny flower mantis which, like with gangle, i feel is pretty much perfect for zooble... they come in many colors (including pink), have abstract patterns, and it gave me the excuse to cover zooble in spikes :D fun

and no kaufmo because i'm lazy and he's dead (sorry kaufmo fans but am i wrong), and the rest don't have bug names that i know of?

i still want to draw the carnival characters in their regular looks sometime, i just got really really inspired by the idea of secret skins and bug-themed outfits and went a liiittle haywire :P

anyways if you read all that you're a real one and you've got too much time on your hands... if you didn't, i understand, i get wordy, sorry :'D okay i think that's all byeee

#the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital carnival #carnival au #tadc #pomni #jax #ragatha #gangle #zooble #bugs #spiders #gif #my art #my fancy art

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avatar-anna · 6 months

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When You Fall In Love...

so i've been reading icebreaker and it's been putting me in the hockeyrry mood

part one, part two, bonus, bonus

Harry watched from the empty stands as Y/n ran through her routine for the fifth time. Her teammates had gone home, her coach asked Harry if he would lock up on the way out, and now it was just the two of them in the empty rink. There wasn't even any music playing anymore, Y/n was just skating and performing her tricks as if there was.

Every time she did it, it was flawless. Her routine was fast and intense and incredibly difficult, but Y/n performed with ease every time. She landed her tricks like they were nothing, tricks which Harry now knew the names of and could tell the difference between a lutz and an axel. She was incredible, and he was in awe of her every single time.

But even in her perfection, Y/n had yet to smile once.

Harry decided she'd had enough after she finished her fifth run-through, quickly jogging down to the edge of the rink before she could skate out to the middle again. He leaned over the barricade and kissed the top of her head. This close to her, he could see her rosy cheeks and heaving chest, a sign that her routine did wear her out, despite making it look so effortless.

"You were phenomenal as usual, baby," Harry said while he gathered her things.

"I bobbled a landing and my timing was off for a whole four counts," was her reply.

Harry frowned, not pleased by her recent negativity. Any athlete could be critical of their ability, but Y/n seemed uncharacteristically hard on herself lately, and he had no idea why. "Everything okay?" He asked, shouldering her duffle bag as they walked away from the rink.

"I'm fine."

She certainly didn't sound fine, but Harry decided not to push. Not now, anyway. Changing the subject, he said, "I got an email from the recruiter. I should be receiving my contract soon."

Excitement didn't even begin to cover how Harry had been feeling lately. Last week, he'd met with an agent of a minor league hockey team, one that was a feeder to an NHL team. He expressed their interest in Harry moving to the east coast after graduation and join them for spring training. And after giving it some thought, Harry accepted.

He was over the moon, thrilled that years of hard work was finally paying off. He'd made his passion into a career, and had the potential to really make a name for himself. Life couldn't have been better.

But where Harry seemed to be flying high, Y/n seemed stuck. She was happy for him when he told her the news, had gone out to celebrate with him that night. But something felt off between them. Harry couldn't put a name to it, but he just knew.

"That's great," Y/n said with no amount of enthusiasm in her voice. Harry tried not to take it to heart, she was clearly in a mood from her practice. She was under a lot of pressure too, he reminded himself, and sometimes had a knack for not knowing how to express herself with words.

"Is there something on your mind? You've been quiet recently," he said, hoping he wasn't overstepping her delicate boundary.

Y/n shook her head as she approached her car, sliding into the driver's seat without a word. Harry couldn't help but feel more and more like there was something on her mind, but he let it go again.

Before pulling the car out of the parking lot, Y/n rested her hand over his and leaned in to kiss him. "I'm sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind."

"It's okay. As long as you know you can talk to me about it."

Her throat bobbed, but she nodded, then turned her focus toward the road. Harry filled the silence with rambling. He talked mostly about the NHL, about his contract and where he wanted to live and how everything was happening so fast.

So caught up in trying to break the tension, he didn't notice Y/n's white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

*.*

"Styles! What the hell are you doing? Focus up! Let's go!"

Harry rested his hands on his knees, breathing heavily during the brief pause in the game. His eyes flicked up to the stands, searching the crowd for a familiar face, but he didn't see the one he needed the most.

Despite being recruited by a minor league hockey team, Harry was probably having the worst game of his life.

Not one pass connected, he was letting second-rate players get by him, and he'd spent more time in the penalty box than in the actual game. Nothing about this was right, and still all he could do was look for Y/n.

She wasn't there, and even though things had been weird between them recently, he was still surprised. When she wasn't at a competition of her own, Y/n came to every one of Harry's games. It had started out as Harry wanting to impress her, maybe show off a little, and then as time went on and they grew closer and their relationship became more than two people having sex in secret, he wanted her to be there just because it felt good knowing she was watching him play. All his nerves floated away when Y/n was sat in the stands, sometimes in his jersey, cheering him on.

And of course there were times when she couldn't come, but this wasn't one of those times. Y/n had purposely not shown up. He knew they'd fought before the game, but he didn't think she would abandon him just to be petty. They were past that now.

His sole focus should've been on the game he was playing, but instead his mind kept drifting to the fight.

Harry could feel Y/n pulling away from him. He finally felt like he was getting everything he wanted—a spot on a minor league hockey team on the east coast that would eventually lead him to the NHL, graduating with semi-decent grades thanks to Y/n, and of course being with his dream girl. At first, she'd seen him as some douchey athlete that was only good for one thing. He remembered seeing her for the first time their freshman year, performing tricks on the ice that he'd only ever seen on TV, and when he whistled and clapped loudly—perhaps a little obnoxiously—after she'd finished, she'd rolled her eyes at him and told him to fuck off.

It was love at first sight.

Harry had been so careful around Y/n. He played by her rules and followed her lead, trying not to let the comments about them not dating get to him too much. He liked their initial dynamic, finding it funny when he got under her skin because she made it so easy. It became a kind of game, this push and pull that was fun and exciting and eventually led to their arrangement.

He knew that she cared about him on some level, he just needed to bide his time and show her he wasn't who she thought he was. Not entirely, anyway. And when she finally did, and they became more than just people who screwed around, everything was perfect.

They'd been through so much together. Y/n pushed Harry to be better, and he worked with her to master new tricks and nail her routine. There wasn't anyone else who understood his level of commitment to hockey, but she did, and that just made him love her more.

So when he got the call offering him a spot on the minor league team, Y/n was the first person Harry told. She'd been happy for him, and he was over the moon, his mind already making a million plans—where they'd live, her coming to his games, him helping her find a new rink to train at. It felt like the doors to a new and exciting world had opened for them, but she then she started pulling back, and Harry practically watched as that door slammed shut.

Harry pushed himself to focus back on the game, on the hockey stick in his hand and the ice beneath his skates. He felt like it took more effort than it should've to get his head back in the game, but his team managed to pull out a win, and he managed not to get benched before it happened. That didn't stop his coach from ripping him a new one in the locker room, but Harry sat there and took it, shaking his head and promising his piss poor performance would never happen again.

Exhausted both physically and mentally, he trudged out of the locker room and toward the parking lot, debating whether to take the bus home or call an Uber. Even in his senior year, he still didn't have a car, but Y/n was usually there to give him a ride home. To their home. Moving in together for their last year of school seemed like a no-brainer, and it had been amazing so far, though the last week had been kind of a disaster. Harry could feel the tension between them growing, but every time he asked Y/n about it, she'd say she was fine even though they both knew everything was not fine, and the cycle continued. He wanted to be excited, he wanted to celebrate the success he'd managed to create for himself, but he felt rather deflated instead.

To Harry's surprise, Y/n was waiting for him in the parking lot. He didn't hesitate putting his gear in the trunk and coming around to sit in the passenger seat. Y/n leaned in to kiss him immediately holding onto the sides of his face fervently.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm sorry for not being here tonight and I'm sorry for acting strange, and I'm sorry for—"

"Y/n, what's going on with you?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Can we wait until we get home to talk?" She asked. I want to be able to talk to you properly, and I can't if I'm driving.

When Harry nodded, Y/n must've deemed it enough. She peeled away from the rink, silent tension filling the air between once again. It had been following them around all week.

That ended tonight, though. He didn't care how much Y/n hated confrontation or hard conversations. They couldn't move forward if they didn't move past this roadblock first. Harry loved Y/n more than he ever thought possible, and stubborn as she was, he knew she loved him just as much. He would get to the bottom of this, no matter how hard she tried to fight him on the way down.

*.*

"Y/n, you know I would be ecstatic if you'd told me you qualified for the Olympics. This is a huge step in my career! Why can't you be happy for me?"

"I am! God, Harry, I am."

"Then why are you pulling away from me? I feel like I can't be excited about this around you when you're the one person who should understand how this feels."

"I can't do this. I can't have this argument with you," you said, trying to step away from him.

Harry was quick to grab your hands in his, keeping you from walking away. "What aren't you telling me? Do you want to break up?"

"No!

"Do you not love me anymore? What? What is it, Y/n?"

"God, I didn't—I didn't ask for this," you cried, feeling like a damn had burst inside you. It was out now, and now you had to see it through to the end. "I didn't plan on falling in love with you. I wasn't prepared to love you this much. You're the one who wanted to take things further, and now you're—"

You're leaving me, you couldn't bring yourself to say. You really were happy for him. All of his dreams were coming true, and he had an ambition that matched yours, which made you love him more. And now that ambition was taking him far away from you, and you weren't handling it as well as you thought you would.

"Y/n—"

"I'm happy for you, H, I'm so happy for you that I could burst. And maybe even a little jealous," you joked, though there was some truth to what you said. "But I guess I just...I guess I didn't expect to love you this much. And I don't—I don't know what to do because you're going soon and I'm..."

You had no clue, and that alone was terrifying.

At the start of all this, you never imagined falling in love with Harry. He drove you absolutely insane, and despite your physical attraction to him, you kept your distance. But he kept doing these things that made you like him, and eventually care about him, and finally made you fall in love with him. It just wasn't something you saw coming. Love was definitely not on the brain when you met Harry.

Because you knew this moment was inevitable. The moment when one of you would be given an opportunity you couldn't refuse and would pull you away from each other. Once upon a time, you thought you would be given your dream job of a lifetime—competitive skating and hopefully the Olympics—but somewhere down the line, skating stopped bringing you joy, only pressure and anxiety. And now Harry had his dream job on the other side of the country, and you were left to flounder and wonder how you would survive waking up without him next to you.

"You're making it seem like it's a bad thing that you're in love with me," Harry said quietly, but the low tone of his voice didn't hide anything. You knew he was getting upset. After all the avoidance the last week—on your part—yours and his emotions were coming to a head.

"It's not! It's just that you're leaving!" you said, resisting the urge to run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And all week you've talked about how excited to get out of here and leave this all behind and start a new chapter in your life. I mean, would it kill you to act like you're a little torn up about leaving?"

It was so selfish, and you knew it was. It was why you'd been avoiding Harry, this conversation. Harry had every right to be proud and ecstatic for leaving to play in the professional league. He worked so hard, pushed himself farther than anyone you'd ever met, except for maybe you. Your pain was clouding your good sense, and now you'd shown just how horrible you could really be.

You couldn't look him in the eye after saying what you did. Even if it was how you felt, you still felt ashamed for raining on Harry's parade. "Y/n—" he tried to say when you hastily wiped a tear from your eye.

"I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry," you said, getting up from the couch and scurrying off to your bedroom.

Flopping on the bed, you pulled the covers over you, trying to hide from everything happening around you. It was too much. Your senior year was supposed to be fun and full of unforgettable memories, not arguments and heartache.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before the door opened and Harry slipped inside. He slid into bed next to you, and you didn't fight it when he rested his face in the crook of your neck. Because despite everything you were feeling, this was all you really needed.

"I'm not leaving you behind," he murmured gently. "You mean too much to me."

You sniffled, and Harry pulled you closer to his chest. "You're going to be thousands of miles away."

"Says who?" he said, kissing your cheek. "Who says you aren't coming with me?"

"And do what?" you huffed, even though the thought slightly lifted your spirits. "Be one of your...puck whatevers and follow you around like a puppy? I need a life of my own too."

You were being stubborn and argumentative and you both knew it. There was some relief in knowing Harry wanted you with him, but you also didn't want to just move because Harry was. You needed purpose, you needed to feel like your life had some sort of direction in it. But it was unfair to put all of that on Harry, and you didn't know how to express how you felt without sounding insane, so instead you said nothing, and that obviously went over brilliantly.

Harry chuckled. "See, because you just said how in love you are with me, I can tell that you're frosty attitude is just an act. Now turn over and look at me."

You reluctantly turned over, brow furrowed exaggeratedly because you couldn't cross your arms over your chest. It used to infuriate you how easily Harry could get under your skin because he knew you so well, that he knew just what to do or say to pull you out of a bad mood. In this moment, you were thankful. He could see past all the harsh words and see to the root of the problem. You'd said some things that were perhaps out of order, but Harry understood. Despite everything, he understood.

"You've worked just as hard as me, Y/n. I want to be there for you the way you've been for me. You can achieve your goals too."

"I just...I don't know if I want to achieve them anymore," you said quietly.

It was the first time you'd said it out loud. Since you'd learned to skate, there had only been one goal: the Olympics. Getting there wasn't just a matter of training, it was about devoting your life to your craft, it was barely having a life outside of training and competitions and giving all your time to winning. And after spending nearly your entire life doing it, you felt yourself slowly burning out. You'd go through your routines flawlessly, but your heart wasn't in it. All you could think about was the future—the next competition, the next training session, the next qualifier. It took seeing Harry so happy about being drafted to the minor leagues to realize the fire had gone out in you. Thinking of Olympic qualifiers and training and affording coaches and costumes and picking the right music only filled you with dread when you should've felt joy.

"Oh."

"But I don't know who I am if I don't have skating."

"You don't have to compete to skate, you know," Harry said. He rested his hand against your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your temple lightly. "You can c—"

"Oh God, don't say coach," you groaned. "It's perfect. You'll be a hockey superstar and I'll be the washed-up figure skater who couldn't handle the pressure of being an athlete and wound up coaching instead."

"I know you're being like this because you're scared, and that's okay," he said. "But I'll help you find a new dream, Y/n. I promise."

You had to blink away tears because your heart couldn't take how much he cared about you. "Even when I've been a complete bitch?"

"You haven't been. I'm sorry if you felt like I was leaving you behind. I guess in my mind we would always be together, no matter where we ended up."

"God I hate how much I love you sometimes," you grumbled while flinging yourself on top of Harry and holding him tight. "It's too much, you're too much, and I can't stand it—"

"There's a compliment in there somewhere, right?" Harry asked, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

Sitting up, you perched yourself on him, your legs straddling his waist. Dipping down, you made sure your noses were brushing, but you didn't close the distance. Not yet. Your heart was racing simply because Harry had been so kind to you, because he knew you so well and said exactly what you needed to hear. It felt ridiculous to know that there was a time when he pissed you off so much you saw red, that his teasing remarks and cocky grin grated on your nerves. Now you didn't want to imagine a life without him.

"I'm sorry for saying all of those things," you murmured. "I really am proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do."

Harry's hand reached up and threaded through your hair, his fingers gentle as they passed over your scalp. "I know you are. And I mean it, Y/n. I'll help you. I know you love to skate, we just have to find a way to channel that into something else. If not coaching, maybe performing?"

"What? Like Disney on Ice?" you asked skeptically, your nose wrinkling at the thought.

Harry shrugged as his hand dipped beneath your shirt to stroke your back. "You'd be a cute princess."

"With my luck, they'd make me a tree."

"Then you'd be the cutest tree there ever was."

Shaking your head, you nudged your nose against his again. "Can we hit pause on talking about the future? I just want to be with you here. Right now."

"Course," Harry said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a crooked grin. "And then maybe we can circle back to you being my puck whatever."

"Shut up."

"Make me!"

And that was something you knew how to do better than your skating routine.

#harry styles #hockey player!harry styles #ice skater!y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #hockeyrry

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oneforthemunny · 1 month

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home is wherever i'm with you |hockey player!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: life on the road during hockey season is far less glamorous than you thought it would be. homesick and lonely, eddie tries to get you feeling better.

also special thank you to @angietherose for the name of the au hockey team :) eddie is officially on the indy reapers! thank you to all who voted as well!

contains: fluff, but there is slight angst at the beginning. mentions of loneliness, a little depression. slight-ish tension or strain on the relationship, but you know i make it happy at the end lol. language.

Pasadena, California - 1993

Day seventeen on your six week excursion with Eddie. Well, excursion was a generous thing to call what this was. You were feeling more like a groupie for the Indianapolis Reapers, a puck bunny as Eddie’s teammates snickered, brows raised in suggest when they’d pass jersey clad girls lingering around their buses. Stop after stop- press, practice, training, games, all over the nation.

A suitcase full of clothes you’d grown sick of already, longing to go home and trade them for something different, washing them in the sharp, sterile detergent of the hotels. You longed for your own sheets, perfumed with your own detergent.

Eddie was gone for most of the day. You tried to sightsee on your own, explore the cities but it was lonely, lacking someone to giggle with over lattes, to hold your hand in the street, just to talk to. The other WAGS that came along, stuck out the long haul across the states, clung to each other, comfortable in their own little clique. You were too new, an outsider to their group.

“Hey, babe,” Eddie pressed the key into the lock, twisting the heavy latch open. “Babe, do you have that stuff? Did you bring it?” He hummed, dropping his bag at the door, kicking off his sneakers.

His nose curled at the pungent smell, ripe from the warming weather of California. “Jesus Christ, I gotta wash this stuff. I’m sorry, I’ll put it in the laundry thing.” Eddie hummed, sliding the slotted closet door open. “Can’t believe how warm it is here already. Feels so nice outside. You’ve been outside today, sweetheart?” He rambled, sweetly, tossing the powdered detergent into the washer, shoving the workout clothes from his bag into the tiny machine.

The steady hum of the air conditioner filled the room, his only response. Eddie’s brows lifted, jamming the button of the washer, sliding the door back into place. He didn’t remember hearing you say you were leaving today, but he had taken a pretty hard hit to the glass during practice, ears still ringing dully.

“Baby?” Eddie called, opening the bathroom door, empty of you other than the scattered products on the vanity. Heavy steps on the patterned carpet, Eddie walked into the bedroom suite, halting at the edge of the crumpled sheets.

You laid on your side, still in what he’d left you in that morning, eyes puffy and red rimmed looking motionlessly out the window. “Hey, I thought you- I was, uh, I was just talking but-” Eddie’s heart beat in his throat, uneasy at the sight of you, crumpled in the sheets. “Are you ok?”

You turned, cheek still pressed to your arms under the pillow, just enough to see him- all wild curls, matted and frizzy with helmet hair. “Yeah,” You croaked, throat scratchy and sore with sobs that had stilled hours ago, still you were plagued with the aftershocks of weeks of suppressed emotion.

“I- I’m not trying to sound like a dick or anything here, but you’re clearly not.” Eddie said softly, slowly approaching the bed. The bed dipped under his weight, a warm hand rubbing over your ankle under the cool sheets.

“Baby,” Your face crumpled at the coo, so sweet, gentle, it made your nose burn. “What’s goin’ on?” Eddie muttered, thumb circling your ankle bone gently.

Your nose burned with a slow, shaky exhale that he felt, rattled all the way down your body under his touch. Eddie’s heart dropped. “Hey, look at me.” Eddie’s voice was softened but sharp, teetering on frantic. You turned, looking at his wide eyes, running over your frame in worry. “What’s goin’ on? What’s the matter?”

Your lip wobbled, head screaming words you couldn’t bring yourself to say- you didn’t know how to say. “I just-” You took a breath, chest stuttering. “I don’t… feel good.”

Eddie’s brows creased, crawling up the bed beside you. “Don’t feel good, like, sick?” He muttered, the back of his hand pressing to your palm. “You don’t feel hot t’me. What hurts? Is it your head still? I told you, baby, that hippie dippie shit only works so much. You have to take medicine-”

“-No,” You shook your head, eyes squeezing tightly to keep your tears at bay. “It’s-it’s not that.”

Eddie blinked carefully. “What? Is it, like, the time of the month? D’ya need me to go get some stuff for you? You know I don’t mind to. Not a problem for me, baby, just tell me what you need.” Eddie’s head tilted to the side, so sweet and doting, it made your chest heat with swarming guilt and adoration.

“I’m not on my period. It’s nothing, Ed.” You shook your head, curling back into your pillow.

Eddie stilled above you. “Are- Are you pregnant?” He whispered.

“No.” You groaned quickly, head shaking into the warmth of the pillows.

Eddie sighed lightly, a huff of relief that fell short, when your body turned from him, back towards the window with a long inhale. “Hey, can you- can you look at me? Please? Look at me, baby.” Eddie’s pitch raised, teetering towards scared, his hand on your shoulder, pushing you gently so you rolled on your back.

He hovered over you, curls falling down nearly brushing your cheeks. “Tell me what’s going on. Please? Tell me what’s wrong.” Eddie whispered, nearly a beg. “You don’t feel good? You don’t feel good here?” His throat swelled, tight with fear. “With me?”

Your silence had Eddie’s stomach twisting, dropping with fear, bile rising in the back of his throat- he was going to be sick, he was sure he would be.

“No,” You muttered, head shaking lightly under the pillow. “Not with you, just,” You reached up, nervously twirling his curl around your finger. “Just with this.”

Eddie swallowed, willing himself still, calm, though his heart felt like it might give out. “This? Wh-What do you mean this?” Eddie’s voice shook.

You blinked up at him, eyes rounding in a sad softness he hadn’t seen before. “I just… I miss being home.” You whispered, eyes glossing with a fresh wave of tears that pricked your waterline. “I miss seeing my friends, and being in my own bed, a-and even work. I just,” Your breath hitched, lip trembling. “I’m just really lonely.”

Eddie was sure his heart did give out, break right in his chest, sunk right to the pit of his stomach. “Do you- You wanna go home?” Eddie’s hand ran down your cheek gently. “That’s what you want? That would make you feel better?”

Your face crumbled, caved into itself at his tone. “I-I don’t know.” You admitted, eyes squeezed shut to keep the tears in. “I don’t want to leave you, b-but I don’t-” You pressed your palms to your eyes, taking a slow inhale through your nose. “I just don’t want to be alone so much. A-And I know that’s not your fault. I know you’re working.”

When your eyes did meet his, Eddie wished they’d stayed closed, heartbreakingly sad, vacant of that light that usually shone through, brightening anything cast in your gaze. “I just… I’m feeling homesick, ‘m sorry.” You muttered. “I just really miss home, and I’m having a bad day.”

“You don’t- Don’t apologize.” Eddie shook his head. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were feelin’ like this.” Eddie swallowed, pulling you up gently. Your body was slack, limp with unmotivated movement, but still, you settled into his arms. The tension in your body melted, nose buried in the material of his shirt, lathered in cologne and the hot California air.

“I have a half day tomorrow.” Eddie muttered, his heart beating fast, you could hear it, feel it. His hand smoothed up your back. “We’ll do something. Go exploring and stuff. Do some fun stuff.”

“You’re ‘sposed to rest.” You muttered, cheek squished to his chest. “It’s before your game, you’re supposed to be resting.”

“Yeah, but that is resting.” Eddie shook his head gently. “I’ll be alright. Promise. Played after way worse. Me and Josh used to come in hungover, vomited on the ice one time.” Eddie’s chest rumbled with soft laughter. “Pretty sure we’re the reason that rule’s in place now.”

Your lips curled, even through your sullen, dazed mood, you couldn’t help it. Clinging to him tighter, you moved into his touch. “Coach just means take it easy like, don’t go get fucked up and actually sleep the night before.” Eddie muttered, chin tucking down onto your head. “C’mon, lemme take you out tomorrow. Me and you. Go anywhere you want.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, sighed gently, settling into his hold.

Eddie was restless through all of morning practice, hands buzzing, ready to run to the rental car at the first dismissal. Shower be damned, he’d take a quick one at the hotel, he couldn’t be held up any longer.

“What’s goin’ on with you, Munson?” Elijah muttered, next to Eddie in the huddle on the ice, the coach’s droning about protocol for the game.

“Nothin’.” Eddie whispered back, twisting his stick in his hands. “Just wish he’d fuckin’ hurry up.”

Elijah’s eyes cut to Eddie, snorting lightly. “You got somewhere to be?”

“Yeah, I do actually.” Eddie sighed out. “Gotta get back. Promised my girl I’d take her out.”

Elijah’s brows raised. “Shit, you brought her with you?”

Eddie’s shoulders tensed. “She wanted to come.” He muttered defensively. “I mean, she wanted to. Now it’s kinda fucked, she’s-” Eddie’s eyes cut around him. “She’s kinda homesick.”

Elijah nodded slowly. “Yeah, that happens.” He fought back a smile. “When’s the last time you took her out?”

Eddie’s eyes cut to him, defensive with accusation. “It’s not like that. I take her out.”

“Yeah? On the off day? After we’ve traveled all day?” Elijah snorted, shaking his head. “C’mon, Munson. Believe me, that doesn’t count.”

Eddie ignored him, gripping his stick with furious annoyance. The fuck did he know? He didn’t know anything.

“Look, I’m not tryna piss you off. I did it, too. Just- believe me, alright? That one day shit doesn’t work.” Elijah pressed gently.

“Hey, I got it, alright? I’m good.” Eddie growled.

Elijah held his hands up in defense. “Alright, I’m just saying, when it was me,” He started. “I wasn’t meaning to. I just wasn't used to it. Had my own road routine and tried to fit her around it instead of into it. Thought it was going good until it wasn’t.”

Eddie stilled, silent but shoulders slumping lightly. “You gotta change your routine, find a way to fit her into it. She’s on the road too, not just you.” Elijah continued.

The coach whistled, waving them in dismissal. Eddie blinked, pulled out of his daze, lifting his helmet and stick with him. Elijah nodded at him. “Have fun tonight, Munson.” He smiled softly. “Make sure you take her somewhere nice.”

Elijah’s words rang in Eddie’s head all the way back to the hotel, only a short drive from the arena. Eddie nearly threw his keys at the valet, sliding into the elevator shamelessly, bouncing on the balls of his toes until he reached your floor.

You startled when he came in, sitting at the vanity, doing your makeup. “You’re done already?”

“Yeah,” Eddie muttered, ducking down for a kiss. “Just gotta shower real quick, but are you hungry?” He shimmied his workout sweats onto the floor, kicking his socks off with them.

Your eyes lingered over his bare lower half for a second, turning back to paint your mascara on. “I’m not starving.” You mumbled.

“Alright, good, I was gonna see if we could go to this place. I think you’ll like it.” Eddie grinned over his shoulder at you, the hiss of the shower coming to life. “Some guys told me if you’re in Pasadena you gotta go here.” His smile so wide, eyes sparkling in the dim yellowed light of the hotel bathroom, it made your tummy tingle with warm excitement.

“Promise you’re not looking?” Eddie mumbled, hands over your eyes, waddle-walking awkwardly behind you, pressed close to your back.

“Swear I’m not.” You grinned. Eddie was right, it was beautiful outside. Warm and bright, light illuminating his hands that covered your eyes with a reddish glow.

“I can feel you trying to. Your lashes are tickling me.” Eddie muttered, leaving you giggling. “Ok, just- you know what, this is good enough. I’m scared you’re gonna trip.” Eddie said, lips curling at your soft laugh.

“Are you ready for your surprise?” You could hear Eddie’s grin in his voice, a breeze floating between the two of you.

“Yes.” You giggled, Eddie’s chest swelling at the sound. “Just show me. Your hands are clammy. They’re gonna smear my mascara.”

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie muttered sheepishly, a blush spilling on his cheeks, pulling his hands away so they were still in front of you. “Ok, ready?”

“Eddie-”

“-Sorry, Alright, one, two,” Eddie moved his hands, smiling proudly in front of you, a pinkish looking building behind you. “Here it is! Surprise!”

You blinked. “Oh.” You quipped softly.

Eddie blinked, smile falling. “What? I thought you’d- You don’t like it?”

“No,” You shook your head. “I mean, no, that’s- Where are we?”

“Oh,” Eddie shook his head lightly. “Shit, I thought you’d know. Uh, apparently this place is supposed to be like the place for flowers, y’know? Pasadena has that flower festival thing, but it’s not until later and I know you like to go to the cool places, and-” Eddie motioned to the store behind him.

You took in the building, spilling over with plants you could see from the inside. “I, uh, I know you miss home.” Eddie said softly. “And I was just thinking, y’know, we can’t get houseplants like at home, but maybe some bouquets? Some flowers for the hotel room.”

Eddie waited a beat, desperately trying to read your face, eyes wandering over the building and the signs. “I thought maybe you’d pick out some flowers and-and it would make it feel like home.” Eddie’s hands slid down his jeans, hot from the sun beaming on them. “Plus, you wanted to see some around here, a-and y’know… one bird, two stones.” Eddie rambled, shrugging sheepishly.

You felt the familiarity of a cry bubbling back in your chest, swelling and suffocation, only this time the aching of sadness was gone. In its place, a bubbling, burning feeling of adoration was left, consuming you from the inside out with every nervous glance Eddie gave you. He’d listened, really fucking listened. He always did, but this time it was different. Relief, comfort washing over you for the first time in days.

It felt like home.

Like the two of you were back in Hawkins, or Indianapolis even, perusing the usual spots, happy and content to be together in a familiar place.

Eddie wasn’t expecting you to grab him, pull him into you with a fierce, sloppy kiss. Right there on the sidewalk, under the California sunshine. Lips melting into his, clawing and grabbing at his shirt, the back of his neck. Eddie’s cheeks burned bright when you pulled apart, a smile so wide and goofy it made you giggle.

He let you grab his hand, lead him around the flower shop like a lost puppy, picking out anything and everything that made you smile. A bright bouquet spilling out beautifully in the green vase, made just for you.

You sat it right on the small bedside table, beaming at how it livened up the room. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was the flowers or you. Either way, it revived you, made you happier and giddier. Made the sheets of the hotel less cold when you slipped beneath them, legs tangled in his, pinning him under you onto the stiff mattress. It made the room brighter, spilling with a new fragrance that felt familiar.

It was small, a miniscule way that meant the world to you; made you feel at home. Eddie knew it, planning how he’d do it with every next city, until you finally got back home.

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poke-me-with-a-stick · 5 months

Text

More DpxDc sleepy rambles!

What if blob ghost were more like bees than bottom feeders?

Like, they go around collecting small amounts of ectoplasm from everywhere, even environments that don't have a lot to give, and take it back to a 'hive' to stockpile. Only, because they are ghosts and not actually bees, they usually gather more than they need to survive. This would make them a lifeline for any ghost that stays in the material plane. If they're stuck in a place devoid of ambient ecto, they just have to find a blob ghost and follow them back to their hive!

But what happens when the ambient ecto is contaminated, like a bee collecting sugar from a non-natural source? You get contaminated honey(ecto), which can't sustain a ghost long term. Wether the blobs fade due to lack of proper nutrition, or they leave to make a new hive in a less toxic environment, they end up leaving the contaminated ecto behind. These abandoned hives are Lazarus pits.

(Sorry if this makes 0 sense, I'm super tired and my head hurts. But I needed to talk about the bee blobs)

#dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #blob ghosts #Blobs are bees #dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dpxdc prompt #dcxdp prompt #sleepy rambles

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ddejavvu · 10 months

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Mei I have a request 👉👈

Spencer can talk a lot about things but is used to getting cut off because people aren’t interested after a few sentences- what about one where he starts rambling and is like 🫢 sorry I’m rambling and reader is like >:( keep going I wanna hear >:( and Spencer is like :D because someone actually wants to hear all of what he has to say

Love you mei ❤️❤️

(If you can’t tell I’m bad at wording things 😭😭)

"-it was just such a disappointing shift," Reid's brows furrow and his hands fall at his sides, "The beauty of that series specifically was that they stuck to the episodic format, there weren't a lot of long plotlines and if something did come back seasons later, they gave new viewers a nice recap. So when they mirrored that in the release of their books, it was refreshing. It felt like more episode of the show were coming out, just in written form. But when the novels started picking up longer plotlines, like, six or seven books an arc, it was just-"

He shakes his head, messy hair flying at the frustrated gesture. His eyes scrunch momentarily, and when silence befalls the two of you, he seems to realize what he's done.

"Uh- I'm sorry," He grimaces, rubbing at one of his eyes, "I'm sure you don't care about the evolution of Star Trek's storytelling. I just- I get carried away, and-"

"Reid," You call, hip aching where you're leaning against the doorway to the kitchenette of the BAU. Spencer was making his coffee, but he'd put the sugar aside to better articulate his feelings on the matter. You'll gladly endure a sore hip tomorrow if it means he'll gush more to you, "It's okay. I don't mind. Did they ever go back to shorter, more contained plots?"

His brow is furrowed, and it dips into a more dramatic expression before smoothing out. His plush lips turn up in a curious smile, "Uh, in the novels?"

"Yeah. Did they ever take it back to what it was before?"

"Not- not really, no." He muses, suddenly flustered by the knowledge that your attention isn't begrudgingly given, "But- it's okay, I- I still like them. The novels. Have you seen the series'?"

"It doesn't matter," You wave a dismissive hand fondness swelling in your chest at the nervous stutter he's adopted, "Tell me about them."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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dcxdpdabbles · 19 days

Note

I've been thinking about a pit assumed mermaid Danny so long. Like the GIW gets their hands on Danny and Danny ends up running away after being dissected and lands right into one of the Lazarus pits not the one that the league of assassin has and he ends up finding out that all of the pits are connected to each other so he uses them to like you know travel around and not be stuck in one place while healing. Damien standing by the pits without being supervised though something down there like just a child being curious he been here is a grumbling thank you. After a while Damien and Danny just get a big brother little sibling relationship and Damian when he leaves to go to his dad is like I promise to come back to save you Free you from the Lazarus pits. Couple years later after Damien established himself as Robin and a barrel agent with his family Damien's always been talking about going back and saving his friend Danny and the rest of the Batfamily is just convinced that Danny's like I'm imaginary friend. So when Damien gets kidnapped by the League of assassins and they're all getting ready to go back home Damian just walked up to the Lazarus pits and goes Daddy I'm here to save you you can come out now then it starts rumbling and outcomes this giant electric glowing green eyes mermaid being like Oh Damian you came back. Sorry for the rambling it's just that I really been thinking about this idea also I love your works.

"Robin! Where are you going!?"

Damian ignores Richard's call. He knows they should be running to the exit where Drake or Todd should fly around with the escape helicopter. He also knows they don't have time to make detours because if they missed that window of escape, the League would not allow them a second chance.

Damian knows. But this is the closest he's gotten to Danny since he was sent away. Now that he knows better, now that he is aware of just how horrible Grandfather and his lot really were, he couldn't just leave his friend here.

Every day that passed, Danny was at risk of being discovered, and who knew what the League of Assassins would want to do to him?

He needed to get him out.

Tonight, Danny was coming to Gotham with him, one way or another.

"Robin, we don't have time for this!"

"I know! I know, but I can't just leave him!" he shouted back, breaking into a sprint down familiar hallways. He dodged a sword swing, tucking and rolling between the legs of an assassin. He twists mid-landing to throw in a Scorpio kick to the head.

He only waits long enough to hear the man grunt. Damian is running away even before the thump of the body hits the ground. He's so close.

"Robin! Nightwing! We're fighting them off, but we can't hold the position for long," Drake shouts into the com that Richard had given him. "We need to do the extraction in two minutes or we're all going to be trapped here!"

He wants to shout at them but can't waste even a second. Damian forces himself to push faster and ignore the burn in his legs as he rounds down the last hallway, attacking the special guards at the gate of the pits.

Unlike the rest of the castle, these two are some of the best the league offers. Damian struggles to find an opening between them and their teamwork. He can also feel the time ticking away with each punch, swing, dodge, and heart-pounding killing blow that nearly lands on his person.

Just a little further. He thinks, panting as he blocks sword after sword, hissing in pain every time one of them manages to make small cuts through his defense. I just have to get a little further!

Bang! Bang!

The two bullets fly, breaking the guard's knees and pinning him down in a sword stalemate. Damian has a moment to thank the heavens that Todd and Richard appeared not even a second later—fighting away the two remaining guards. He watches them fight for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

One minute! Drake hisses, the sounds of gunfire and the wind of the helicopters' wind nearly drowning his voice.

Damian glances at the door, and then his brothers fight, and he makes his decision. He rushes to the door, kicks it open, and sprints down the pathway into the cave. He hears the battle pick up speed behind him, along with Todd's outraged cry of his name, but he does not slow down until the slight green glow comes into view.

"Danny!" he shouts, hoping his voice's sound waves can travel through the green liquid to what is hidden below. "I've come to rescue you!"

Are you kidding me? Todd yells in the coms. We're risking everything while being outnumbered and outgunned so Demon Brat can get his imaginary best friend!?

Damin tushes to the pit, leaning over, trying to spot the mermaid in the glowing water. He splashes the surfaces in the same way he used as a child, when calling for the creature, face darkening at the causation meanwhile. "He is not imaginary! Danny is real!"

Robin, we don't have time for this! Richard screams. We have to go! Now!

"In a minute!" Damian splashes the water more urgently. He could stick his head in, but he was healthy right now, minus the few cuts, and he could not afford to lose his head mid-escape.

We don't have a minute! Drake cries. A worrisome beeping noise accompanies his words. A loud boom is heard along with Drake's screech. I've been hit! I'm going down!

No!

"Danny, please! I need you!"

A small head of pure white hair peaks up from the water, gentle green eyes staring at him. The glowing green hides the rest of his face since the creature did not go further than his nose about the water, but Damian can tell he's smiling.

"Hello, little one."

Damian allows himself one moment of relief before the world starts to shake, and Danny leaves the Lazarus Pits for the first time in fourteen years. He rises out of the water, long, glowing angle fish tail darkening into shadows as his form shifts into a thing of nightmares.

Damian smiles up at him. "Hello, brother. Can you help my other brothers and me escape? "

Danny doesn't even have to consider the request already growing bigger and bigger until Damian is no bigger than his thumb. He then moves grabbing Damian in his ice-cold grasp.

Danny flies through the walls and picks up Ricard and Todd before they go up and out through solid stone. Damian closes his eyes, pressing against Danny's body to protect himself from whiplash and the strong wind.

Danny is insanely fast, which he proves by diving for the falling aircraft and not only catching up to it but also managing to lift it out of the sky. He angles his hand against the doorway, shaking his palm so Damian, Ricahrd, and Todd all tumble out of the gaint being hand into the safety of the chopper.

Danny then swings his massive body towards the horizon, ignoring the Leauge's attempts to capture him. The island is out of sight in seconds, and Damian can breathe a little easier, even though he is pressed against the wall with his screaming siblings.

Danny is going a little too fast in his escape.

"What's happening!?" Drake cries and checks to wiggle back a little from how fast they traveled.

"I invited Danny to live with us!"

"You did what!?"

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Pit's Merman #Danny hurt himself so his body shift into a mermaid to hell #He was chilling in the pits underground tunnels #He has a mind link with Damian due to how often the boy was thrown in there #Danny could have left whenever he just choose not too #Dick jason and Tim are not impressed

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tojivu · 6 months

Text

# OFFICE HOURS ‣ GOJO SATORU

✰ — author’s note i feel so guilty bc gojo is literally the only character i write for LOL anyway this is an old draft from months ago. idk why this is so long im so horrendously down bad for this fucking snowman.

✰ — cw / tags arrogant ceo!gojo x secretary f!reader, sfw, not rly enemies to lovers bc gojo has fat feelings, gojo satoru being a billionaire playboy

✰ — playing death & taxes by daniel caesar.

✰ — word count ~3k LOL

nothing about gojo satoru really strikes you as the serious type.

even in a professional environment, your boss always has a carefree demeanour. his laugh is so nauseatingly loud that you can hear it from outside the office, and you wonder how someone as busy as him manages through his day; much less with a positive attitude. you take one look at his schedule, and you want to vomit with the way you hardly see any gaps between appointments.

you suppose you could learn that from him. it's his only good quality.

you admit that he's likeable, on surface level. there's a reason why you detest him, though: as his closest colleague, you know him way more than you would prefer. most people would think such a well to do man like satoru would have a wife by his side, but that's unfortunately not the case. you almost feel more miserable than him—because now you're forced to be the listening ear and comforting hand at his beck and call.

you think he'd be just fine if he was just a little more humble. he has a nice face. it's his fault for being so stuck up. you know how many women ask him out—painfully aware, actually.

'they just aren't suited to my taste,' he would say to you. 'i need someone that makes me feel alive.'

one time, gojo even asked you to bail him out of a date—something about the way she held her fork and knife disturbed him, and you were expected to show up at the restaurant and act as if there was an emergency.

'i'm so sorry, sweetheart. i have to go, duty calls.' his disgustingly charming tone made you want to slap him then and there.

she called him again the following week, and he completely forgot who she was. he didn't even save her number.

the sheer number of people asking him out had stroked his ego so hard that gojo firmly believes no woman is deserving enough. he rambles on and on to you about how snobby some of them seem, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue when he does. 'takes one to know one,' you would say, if not for your job at stake.

you think gojo satoru is full of himself. you are a strong believer of that. a witness, as well—it's not like he didn't try his way with you, too. unlike the women he ranted about, you turned him down every single time.

it's been a long while since any of that has happened, though. the most recent ordeal was months ago, but that didn't inherently mean that people stopped asking him out: it just meant that he was rejecting every single offer.

it's a thursday morning when you find yourself eating a sandwich you purchased on the way to work, at your desk—wondering when the big boss will finally arrive. the clock read 9 a.m., and you're expecting an extravagant "good morning!" to surprise you any moment now.

just then, you notice mr. conceited walk in: except something is different. he has no stride in his step. there was no good morning. there was no playful teasing directed at you as he walked past your desk and into his office, not that you were complaining—it was just strange.

you stand up, a mouthful of your sandwich still being chewed. you take a big sip of water and fix your skirt and blouse, making sure your hair is presentable—before swiftly making your way into his office.

──────

"i cannot believe this." he mumbles. you're standing in front of his desk, but he's not facing your direction.

gojo's chair is turned to the giant window that overlooks the business district, and he's gazing out of it thoughtfully. you think this is the cheesiest thing you've seen him do.

you can see how disheveled his hair was, even from where you were standing. you don't want to irritate him further, in case teasing you was still on his to-do list that day.

"what is it, mr. gojo?"

he swivels his chair around, and he is a mess—just what could have he been up to?

"i woke up late today."

"you're the boss, mr. gojo. you can come in any time you want—"

"not the point." he interrupts you. "i forgot my lunch. i was in the car, with the driver, on the way here already. . . and then i realised i left my donuts at home."

gojo's face is absolutely distraught. he looks like he's gone through a divorce and had his house set on fire with how he stands up dramatically—his hands now on his desk. you open your mouth to speak, but he shuts you up by talking again.

"i didn't want to inconvenience him. i'm too thoughtful, miss y/n."

you want to scoff, but you bite your tongue and hold back.

"so i got out of the car and ran back for it," gojo recounts. "i arrived home after the treacherous journey—only to discover that my donuts are gone."

you feign an expression of shock, just to humour him; he gives you an 'i know right' look, and continues his nonsensical story.

"the maids threw them away, miss y/n."

you can't help yourself: you let a small giggle slip through your lips. you quickly use your hand to cover your mouth, thinking of a quick excuse.

you cough. you pretend to, at least—but gojo satoru is not stupid.

no, maybe a little. though, not enough to be convinced of your terrible acting.

"nothing about this is funny."

you nod, looking down at the floor. "i apologise, mr. gojo, but it's just a few donuts. i'm sure someone in the office could fetch some for you."

"yes, i agree." he says, and you shift your gaze from the marble tiling of his office to his face. his hair is a mess, yes—but he still looks revoltingly handsome. his eyes are piercing through yours, and pieces of hair cover his face in just the right places.

you're staring a little too long and gojo finds his pulse quickening with the eye contact—but the spell he has you under is soon broken when he clears his throat.

you quickly look away, embarrassed that you were caught staring at your boss, by your boss.

"you'll pick some up for me, yeah?" his smooth and silky voice echoes through the empty space of his office.

you look at him again, and there's a gentle smile on his face; one you're all too familiar with.

you're aware of satoru's charismatic nature, his playboy-ish attitude, and all sorts of tricks he uses to make women fall head over heels for him. that didn't mean you were completely resistant to them, though—you find yourself playing with the sleeves of your blouse, your ears beginning to redden. "of course," is all you manage to say.

at least you were self-aware.

your mind was rational. should gojo satoru try to hit on you for the nth time—all it took was some self discipline to say no, and you'd like to think you had plenty.

you think the conversation is done with the way he doesn't speak another word, so you turn on your heels and make your way out of the office.

just as you touch the handle of the door, your boss adds: "i'll come with you."

you turn back to him, confused. you didn't need your boss babysitting you for a donut run, you knew his favourite flavours—it's all he ever insists on buying for lunch. "there's no need for that, mr. gojo."

satoru shakes his head in disapproval. "you don't even know my favourite flavours, miss y/n."

that was a blatant lie. he knew you knew. you were his personal donut grabber for a few months up until august, and it was only october. you suppose that it would've continued on if not for your complaints about the long lines in the morning.

nevertheless, you don't argue with him. gojo satoru was the type to get what he wants, when he wants, if he really wants it.

you smile at his disregard for the months you spent as his errand runner, and how idiotic the excuse he just used was. satoru knows he's lying through his teeth, and your smile makes him more nervous than your eye contact.

so nervous, in fact, that he takes back what he just said. "unless. . . you're fine by yourself."

you're surprised that gojo's confidence is dissipating, or that it could even fade at all. you can tell with the way he's avoiding your eye contact, exactly how you evaded his earlier—the red on the tips of his ears are much too obvious in contrast to his hair.

"i don't mind," you respond a bit too quicker than appropriate. "mr. gojo."

gojo curses himself mentally, thinking about how stupid he must sound. he's usually the one making people nervous, but he doesn't know why it's different when you look at him like that.

──────

the atmosphere is deafening in gojo's favourite bakery. you always knew he had a sweet tooth, so you expected his choice to be a spectacular one—and you weren't disappointed.

you had personally visited this bakeshop before, and the confectionery was truly as good as people made it out to be; it proved evident in the amount of people crammed into this small establishment. though, you can't tell if it was for the food or for your boss, with the way most pairs of eyes are turned in his direction.

you two spend a good five seconds looking at the menu before gojo states his order, which was exactly what you thought it would be—the lady at the cashier smiles a bit too long at satoru, before asking: "eating in?"

you want to open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it. "of course."

it was still very well your work day. he (or maybe you and him, considering you helped him plan seventy percent of his appointments) had a meeting in 3 hours to prepare for. you think this donut adventure is already unnecessary enough—but here he is, suggesting to waste even more time eating the donuts in the bakery itself.

"we have a meeting in a bit, though. you could eat it in your office."

he looks at you with a confused look, as if he forgot that there was a meeting at all—because he did forget. gojo gasps, turning back to the lady and retracting his previous statement.

──────

gojo eats his donuts agonisingly slow and no conversation is initiated.

you're alternating between staring at both your laptops and the swirls on the wooden desk, unable to say anything because you didn't plan for such an occasion: an eating donuts with your admittedly handsome boss that makes you nervous while simultaneously planning for an important meeting occasion.

"miss y/n, you should try some."

you shift your eyes from the table to gojo, and he's holding a small piece of his donut to your lips: the powdered sugar practically calling your name.

"it's fine, i ate earlier," you decline his generous offer. "you should eat."

"i'm not asking you to eat all of them, miss y/n." he smiles at you. "just a bite. it's really good, y'know."

you sigh, reaching for his hand to take it from him—but he swiftly pulls it away and shakes his head. "open your mouth."

you feel the tips of your ears burning, blood rushing to your cheeks and you wonder how the girls he takes out manage themselves when he's like this—you've worked with him for so long, yet you can't recall a time when his gaze wouldn't make you shudder.

you think you'd stutter if you spoke one more word to him, so you save yourself from the embarrassment and bare with his request.

he feeds you the piece of sugar-coated donut, and you're sure you have powder on the corners of your lips with how it's width barely fits into your mouth.

you chew and swallow, feeling the residue of sugar on your skin.

"do you have any tissues?" you ask him, a serious expression plastered onto your face.

gojo tries to suppress the chuckle itching to escape his throat—the sugar on your lips and cheeks catch him off guard, and after a few seconds he can't help but let a small laugh slip. you stand up from your chair, scanning the room for any boxes of tissues you could lay your hands on.

he stands up as well, shaking his head—still giggling.

"it's not funny," you frown, and the smile on his face only grows wider—you're too cute for your own good when you sulk. "stop laughing."

you're not sure if you want to punch him or let him giggle to himself. for some reason, seeing you embarrassed is a great cause of joy to him. you can't bring yourself to tell him to shut up; you always imagine doing just that, it's strange how you couldn't muster the courage just when you needed it most.

"it's quite funny," gojo's laughter eventually calms down.

he leans closer to you and his right hand gently holds the side of your jaw—he uses his thumb to gently wipe the sugar off your cheek, and then your lips. "i got it."

his thumb stays on your bottom lip after dusting the sugar away. his pupils are locked onto the surface of your lips, which were glossy in the harsh light of his office: they looked so soft.

before long, they trail up your face until he's looking directly into your eyes: and this time you're not nervous, you don't look away, and your heart is completely calm.

satoru's fingers are easy on your skin. he handles you like fragile glass, as if he doesn't want to break you: and it's the same for the way he looks at you. gentle.

you're reluctant to speak because the way satoru has his thumb on your bottom lip sends shivers down your spine. you feel breathless.

you don't want this feeling to leave, not just yet.

a few seconds of tension pass. his hand moves back to your jaw, and your nervousness returns when gojo satoru leans his tall figure even closer to you; his head tilting ever so slightly.

it's a random thursday morning when you discover a few more good qualities gojo satoru possesses: his lips and his hands. maybe the way he kisses, too—it's slow and precise, unlike his attitude. he tastes sickeningly sweet and it makes you want to savour this moment even more.

you promised yourself you wouldn't fall victim to gojo satoru. yet, you just can't pull away: instead finding yourself slithering your arms around his neck and your chest pressing against his.

gojo's hands are wandering down to your waist and he's desperate to have you as close to him as possible, showing in the way he tries to close the already small gap between you two.

it takes only a fraction of a second for a small thought to form in your mind: just how many women have been in this position?

you quickly forget about that thought, though—you think it's pointless to regret it now, gojo satoru kisses you too good to be full of remorse.

gojo thinks he could stay like this: kiss you all morning, afternoon and pay you overtime if it meant he could be this close to you for just a bit longer.

there's hints of neediness in gojo's touch—as if he'd been waiting for this forever, wanting to relish it before it ends. his few seconds of bliss don’t last very long though, because you're soon pulling away—gasping for air.

he sighs mockingly, his hands sliding down from your waist to your hips. "can't last longer than 10 seconds, miss y/n?"

of course he would say some cocky shit like that—you'd forgotten for a minute that this was the same, arrogant mr. gojo you always knew, and no kiss (however heavenly) was going to change that.

"i'm sorry that i don't go on dates with every man that breathes."

gojo smirks at you after you say those words. "come on. just because i go on dates with people, doesn't mean i kiss them like this."

"sure you don't." your jealousy shows a bit too much in your reply, and he finds himself smiling even harder.

"is someone jealous?" he teases you again, rubbing circles with his thumb against the flesh of your hips.

you feel flustered, knowing that you're definitely done for now—he saw right through you. "nobody is jealous, mr. gojo."

"stop it with the formality. just call me satoru."

"it's still office hours. it's only polite."

gojo rolls his eyes, sighing in the process. you grin a little at him, knowing that this was the first thing you denied him of today—complying with the donuts and the kissing was already spoiling him enough.

"then i suppose there's only after work," there's his nauseatingly charming voice again—low and smooth. he knows exactly what he's doing to you, and you know it too. "i'm off after 6."

you think long and hard about whether you want to be mean and add this to the list of things you've declined to do for him. the ratio was starting to get really unbalanced—but you remember the way his hands touch you and how his lips greet yours so lovingly: and you think that there's no point turning back now.

"my boss doesn't let me off until after 8, though." you try to poke at his buttons—you put on a fake pout, knowing you’ll accept his invitation anyway—but gojo satoru is eternally patient when it came to things he sincerely desired.

"fuck your boss." he says, "he'll be fine with it."

you laugh at his response. you never thought you would see the day gojo curses at himself, after all, he's so self-obsessed: but you suppose you've seen—and tasted—parts of him that you never knew existed.

"then i'll see you at 6, mr. gojo."

what was the harm in discovering more?

230323 — i kinda hate this but.. wtv… anyway i couldn’t be bothered to proofread have my brainrot of gojo in a suit Mmmm yumyum

#jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagine #jjk imagines #gojo imagine #gojo imagines #gojo x y/n #gojo x you

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justabigassnerd · 5 months

Text

Protected

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,654

Warnings - creepy guys, protective Jake & Mickey, being made uncomfortable, angst, fluff

Summary - when you get bothered by customers at work, Jake and Mickey can't just stand by and watch

A/N - hey y'all! sorry it's taken me so long to get a new fic out, I swear I'm trying to write faster but I be struggling. this was a request sent in by @stupendousnightmaretrash so here's a formal apology for taking so long. anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

Growing up it had always just been you and your dad, and you were perfectly fine with that arrangement. There would be a small number of people that would come in and out of your life, but your dad stuck around no matter what and he was all you needed.

Then he got called back to Top Gun.

After completing the mission he was called back for, Jake and his squad were offered a permanent position at Top Gun so they could all remain together which brought a new array of people into your life. You knew Javy of course; he and your dad had formed a close friendship early on so having him back in your life was a welcome surprise. Then there was the likes of Bradley, Bob, Ruben, and Natasha who became your honorary uncles and aunt. Then there was Mickey who somehow became like a second father to you. He was the youngest of the Daggers and so everyone had assumed he’d take more of an older brother role towards you, but he showed his complex maturity when he helped you solve a problem you were having, and you often found yourself going to him with problems you weren’t ready to talk to your own dad about yet to get advice from him.

A couple of years down the line, your dad and the Daggers were still based in Miramar and life was just as good as it was when the team first became an official squadron. You had recently turned sixteen and gotten a job working at a little restaurant along the beachfront for a little extra cash. It wasn’t the best job in the world, but it was something.

One evening, after a long day of work at Top Gun, the Daggers decided that they’d visit the restaurant you worked at to grab some dinner and to also surprise you while you were working.

The squadron turned up and waited excitedly to be seated and Jake couldn’t help but smile when he saw your eyes light up upon seeing the team gathered. You found them a table and handed out menus to everyone. The smile never leaves your face as you talk to them, getting their drinks orders before heading off to go and get their drinks. When you returned with their drinks you took their food orders and took them to the kitchen before returning to your section and seating two middle-aged men at a table near the Daggers. At first, they were polite, thanking you as they initially sat down and gave you their drinks orders with kind smiles but as the evening progressed their behaviour shifted. When you brought them their meals after the Daggers were just about halfway through their own dinners, the two men started looking you up and down, making uncomfortable flirty comments and one of the men even tried to run his hand along yours as you placed his food down in front of him. None of the men’s comments or actions went unnoticed by Mickey, who nudged Jake and pointed out how uncomfortable you clearly looked while serving the two men. When you moved away from the table to grab more drinks for the two men, Mickey and Jake exchanged a look and pushed their chairs away from the table, rising in sync and crossing to the two men.

“Can we help you?” One of the men asks, raising an eyebrow as they stare up at the two aviators who fold their arms across their chest in tandem, glaring down at the two men.

“You can stop bothering my daughter, that’s how you can help me.” Jake says, jaw set as his gaze grows colder by the second. The two men share a brief glance before letting out small chuckles.

“With all due respect. Your daughter is very beautiful.” One of the men has the gall to say, making Jake almost shift to land a punch on that man’s cocky smile, but Mickey was quicker, grabbing Jake’s shoulder and pulling him back a couple of paces to reduce the fight risk.

“She’s also sixteen years old. She’s just a kid!” Mickey has to hold himself back from screaming it in the man’s face as his friend shrugs.

“Well, she looks older.”

“And you still think that makes it okay?” Mickey says as Jake shrugs Mickey’s hand off his shoulder and approaches the two men, bracing his hands on the table, and leaning down so he’s in their faces.

“You two have about five minutes to pay your bill, give my kid a good tip and get your sorry asses out of here.” Jake’s voice was low and threatening, but the two men chuckled once again.

“What exactly are you going to do if we don’t do that?” The man asks, smirking cockily as he leant back in his seat, arms folding over his chest.

“I’ve got an entire team of naval aviators behind me, and they will not hesitate to get involved on my kid’s behalf.” Jake is seconds away from throwing a punch when the men laugh in his face.

“I have your- what’s going on?” Your return should’ve been expected yet in the moment all four men had forgotten you had gone off to get drinks.

“Nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart.” Jake says, straightening up and flashing a smile in your direction as Mickey drops his defensive stance to make everything seem more natural.

“Exactly, sweetheart. Are those our drinks?” One of the men says, condescension in his tone as he looks you up and down, frowning when you begin to look uncomfortable at his words.

“Oh come on, you can’t serve us with a smile?” He then says, and Mickey immediately walks over to you and takes the drinks off the tray.

“Mickey, what are you doing?” You ask in a hushed whisper as Mickey winks quickly, refusing to answer before turning around and slapping the biggest grin on his face and approaching the table.

“Here’s your drinks.” Mickey says, placing both drinks down making sure he spilt a bit over each man as he put them down.

“What are you doing?” One man says, standing up and attempting to brush the drink off his trousers.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to be served with a smile. I must’ve gotten a bit carried away.” Mickey says, the grin never leaving his face as both men grab napkins to wipe at their clothes while Jake crosses to you.

“Why don’t you grab the bill for these two? I have a feeling they’ll be leaving soon.” Jake whispers, watching as you nod lightly and head back to get the bill for the two men. Jake and Mickey return to the table with the Daggers, telling them that the situation appears to be defused and that since they had finished up all their meals, they’d get the bill and pay after the two men left. Jake kept glancing over at the two men as you brought over their bill and thankfully their mouths remained shut and they paid for their food and drinks silently before finishing their drinks and leaving the restaurant. When they left, you went over to the Daggers table and got them their bill and took the payments. You said goodbye to each Dagger in turn as they left but Jake and Mickey stopped in front of you.

“We’re going to wait outside for you, I know you don’t have much longer of your shift, and we want to make sure those assholes don’t come back.” Jake says, both he and Mickey smiling softly at you as you nod, thanking them before rushing off to finish off the rest of your shift.

Mickey and Jake sit outside the restaurant on a bench just by the beachfront and watch people taking evening strolls along the beach and listen to the sounds of seagulls calling and waves crashing against the sand. The two men found themselves talking about how work was going for them to pass the time until they heard you calling out for them, and they both turned and looked over their shoulders, a smile coming to their faces as they got to their feet and crossed to meet you halfway. Jake reached you first and trapped you in a strong but gentle hug.

“Was the rest of your shift, okay?” Was the first thing he asked as he hugged you, feeling you nod against his chest.

“Yeah.” You say as you pull away from the hug, moving to hug Mickey who embraces you happily.

“No one else bothered you?” Mickey checks in as he releases you from the hug.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Thank you, by the way. Those guys really gave me the creeps.” You admit, briefly casting your gaze to the floor before looking back up at the two men.

“No need to thank us, sweetheart. We’ll always look out for you.” Jake says with a soft smile.

“Honestly, if you two weren’t in the Navy I would’ve asked my manager to hire you guys. We could do with some people to help us handle the creepy guys. And I think Mickey would be an excellent waiter, he’s got the customer service smile down.” You say with a slight laugh, making both your dad and Mickey let out laughs of their own as they imagine Mickey being a waiter.

“Come on you, let’s get home.” Jake then says, the laughter dying down as Mickey slings an arm over your shoulders and tugs you into his side as the three of you begin to walk away from the restaurant, chatting and laughing the whole way as you enjoy each other’s company. The events of the evening are now behind you as you cherish getting to spend time with two of your favourite people. And you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

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paleprincessturtle · 6 months

Note

Heyy! I love your writing and was wondering if you could write a piece where Mike thinks Harvey is a loner so he goes and asks Donna, but Donna tells him he’s been in a super serious relationship for a while. Mike doesn’t believe her so she tells him to go see for himself. Mike goes to Harvey’s place and sees him being super domestic and fluffy with reader.

Aww thanks! And also thanks a bunch for the request. I'm sorry it took so long. But here we go and enjoy!

Note: I'm really sorry for others who already sent me other requests, it might take me some times to post again since I'm in the middle of writing my thesis. Thanks!

Sunny Disposition

Pairing: Harvey x Reader

Mike walked with spring in his steps. It's been approximately 10 hours since Harvey snapped in his face and gave him a direct order to not leave the building unless he found anything they needed for the hearing next Monday. Mike was bummed that he had to cancel tonight's dinner with Rachel. They made an agreement to always have dinner somewhere new every Friday. But here he was. Stuck with piles upon piles upon piles of documents. Nevertheless, he found it. This could be a breakthrough in court. They could win easily with this. But as he got closer to Harvey's office, he slowed down. Frown graced his face. The door to Harvey's office is closed, lights off. Donna was the only sign of life near Harvey's office. Even Donna was getting ready to leave. He walked faster to Donna's desk before she got the chance to leave. "Where's Harvey?" Mike asked, confusion apparent in his voice. "He left at 6," Donna said nonchalantly as if the information wasn't odd at all. It was odd to Mike. Harvey left at 6? Was his place on fire?

"He left at 6? Why did he leave at 6? I have a girlfriend at home, who had dinner alone because Harvey told me not to leave this building. He had a cactus you left him, just that." Mike said in disbelief. Donna chuckled and got back to gathering her things, ready to leave. "Why has Harvey never been in a serious relationship?" Mike asked, all curious. "Last was with Scottie, right? But it wasn't that serious. Though Harvey snapped at me over a pencil after the breakup. But it wasn't that serious from what I see." Donna watched the younger guy rambling. "I can't imagine being Harvey, get home only to a cactus." Mike closed his eyes and shook his head, imagining his home without Rachel. "Harvey is in a serious relationship, Mike." Mike opened his eyes so fast, his hand covering his mouth. "Get out," Mike said in disbelief. "He's been in this relationship for over a year. In fact, he just proposed to her last month, on her birthday, in Florence." Mike's brows knitted together as he tried to remember if there was anything different from Harvey last month. He did take a week vacation, and he dodged questions about his holiday. When he got back he brought with him a beautifully hand-carved pen for Mike. It did creep Mike out. Harvey and souvenirs just don't bode well. He shook his head. "Lies. You said that just to make me feel bad for getting pissed at Harvey because he went home early." Donna rolled his eyes, "If you don't believe me, why don't you give him a visit, and see it for yourself." Donna said as she left her desk.

Mike knocked after he tried the door and failed. He was ready to face Harvey with a glass of whisky in his hand. What he didn't expect was a woman opened the door for him. She dressed in Harvey's dress shirt, black leggings, and an apron. The smell of deliciousness came out as she opened the door. She smiled brightly at Mike. "I'm sorry, can I help you?" she said in all friendliness. Mike snapped out of it and offered his hand, "I'm sorry, I'm Mike Ross. I work with Harvey, I'm here to drop some important documents." Mike explained, confusion still thick in his head. Was Donna telling the truth? Before none of them could say anything, he heard Harvey call from inside. "Sweetheart, who is it?" Mike looked at her in surprise. Sweetheart? Now, sweetheart and Harvey Specter doesn't bode well even more. The woman in front of her ignored Harvey and instead of shaking his hand, she hugged him. "I've heard so much about you! Harvey won't shut up. It's great to finally put a face to a name, and please come in. We are just cooking dinner. Harvey must've confined you in the office. Come in, please," she moved aside to let Mike in. "Harvaroooo" she called out as they entered the kitchen. Harvey turned from the stove and locked eyes with Mike. Harvey frowned and seemed caught off guard. Mike almost laughed at the sight of Harvey standing over a stove, bare feet, holding a spatula. "Harvey baby, look who showed up on our doorstep!" she walked past Harvey as Harvey stood there in confusion. She retrieved a wine glass. "Harvey, why don't you sit down with Mike while I finish up dinner? He mentioned important documents," Harvey nodded, "Mike, you fine with red?" she brought the bottle over her head for Mike to see. "Yes, of course," Mike said slowly, eyes still locked on Harvey's. She brought the glass over to Harvey. "Here, go sit down with Mike," she said, and again, Harvey nodded. This woman can order Harvey around and she's not Jessica, Mike thought. "You sure you don't need help? I can help you finish dinner. Mike can wait. Right, Mike?" Harvey called out. "Yes," Mike answered shortly, still in a daze. "No, baby. You and Mike go out sit on the balcony, and talk about..." she trailed off then smiled, "Talk about whatever you need to talk about while I finish dinner. It shouldn't be long anyway." Mike saw Harvey look down at her. He whispered sweet nothings in her ears as she giggled. He pecked her lips before turning to Mike, he handed him the glass of red and gestured outside with his head. "Wow," Mike said in amazement as he leaned on the railing of the balcony. "Perks of being successful, I can afford this view," Harvey said, leaning on the railing beside him. They both have the view of the kitchen, with the mysterious woman taking an extra plate for Mike. "When are you going to tell me that you're actually engaged?" Mike asked, turning his head to look at Harvey. "I don't mix her with work. When I pissed people off and they found out about her, they will use her against me. I won't let that happen on my watch," Harvey said solemnly. A small smile crossed Harvey's lips as he looked inside at his girl. Mike didn't miss it. "She's beautiful," Mike said, patting Harvey on the back. "Congratulations," Mike said as he pulled him into a hug. Before Harvey could say anything, she opened the sliding door to tell both men that dinner was ready.

Harvey put his hand on his lower back as they walked to the dining table. "You should've told me to help you set the table," Harvey said and she waved him off. "It's fine, Harvey." Harvey pulled the chair for her and kissed the top of her head as she sat down. Mike smiled at the interaction. No matter how much Mike denied it, Harvey is his friend. Mike cared a lot about him and to know that Harvey found her, put Mike's mind at ease. "Oh, I hope we knew you'd come. I hope you're fine with ravioli?" she asked and Mike shook his head. "Please, if anything I'm the one ruining your night with Harvey." Mike gave her a reassuring smile. "It's not like Harvey is an angel and didn't keep you in the office away from your girlfriend," she looked at Harvey and swatted his shoulder, "You should stop doing that, Harvey!" Harvey laughed as he caught her hand and gave it a kiss on the inside of her wrist before letting it go. "Harvey never told me about you," Mike started as he took a bite of the ravioli, "Damn, this is the best ravioli I've ever put in my mouth." Mike closed his eyes as he savored the flavors. "My girl here is the best cook," Harvey said proudly and smiled at her and she laughed. "Harvey never told you about me because I'm a mere mistress," she shrugged as Mike laughed. Mike glanced at her ring finger, adorned with a huge diamond ring. Harvey must've spent a fortune on that. "Sunny, can you pass me the pepper?" Harvey asked her as she passed him the pepper. "Sunny?" Mike asked, eyebrow raised. "Sunny is his silly nickname for me," she waved him off. "Just like Harvaroo?" Mike joked and Harvey choked on his food. The two of them laughed at the even sillier nickname. "It's not a silly nickname," Harvey said after he regained his composure. "Harvaroo?" Mike asked, amusement glinting in his eyes. "That's a silly nickname," Harvey scoffed. "Sunny is not a silly nickname," Mike looked at Harvey, asked him to continue. "She's the ray of sun amidst my storm. I wouldn't know simple happiness without her." Harvey said as he leaned forward to kiss her. Mike watched the two of them and smiled. Relieved washed over him, knowing Harvey, the loner he thought, was actually very much in love.

MASTERLIST

#harvey specter #harvey specter fan fiction #harvey specter imagine #harvey specter fanfic #harvey specter imagines #harvey specter x reader #suits harvey specter #suits tv

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ningningsdream · 16 days

Text

[4:28AM] "i still love you, y/n. it was dumb of me to let you go.", ex! jeno pleaded as he stood on your doorstep at an ungodly hour in the night, "everything i see reminds me of you. i've tried to move on but i can't help myself comparing everyone with you. i miss you even when i'm in a room full of people to distract me.", jeno rambled, his rosy cheeks hinting that he was probably a little tipsy.

today would've been your fifth-year anniversary if you stayed together.

"i thought of you every single day for almost a whole year after we broke up.", you said, looking at him.

"me-"

"let me finish.", you interrupted him, holding your index up, "i tried so hard not to, but it felt like the more i was trying to not think of you, the more i did. you were the first and last person i talked to every single day. some mornings, when i was still in a sleepy haze, i found myself looking at my phone to see if you had texted me and when reality hit me, it was another kind of pain. you were part of my everyday, you became a habit. it's hard getting rid of habits. i had to get used to say that i didn't have a boyfriend when asked about relationships, and i couldn't use 'my boyfriend and i already planned something' when i wanted to get out of things. i was wondering if i was the only one that had to hold myself back from sending you a text. i was wondering if you too, struggled with not having me in your life anymore."

"i did. i do. so much, y/n. you don't know how much i want to go back to slap some sense into myself and not break up with you. i was so overwhelmed with graduation, work and keeping up with family and friends that i thought i needed to get rid of something."

"so you got rid of me..."

"and i regret it so fucking much. the minute i saw the tears in your eyes i regretted it. i thought it was for the better, i was so busy i couldn't even be a proper boyfriend to you, and you deserved better than that. i thought letting you go was the best for the both of us."

"the best? i cried every single night for three months straight. not only because i missed you, but because as you said i deserved better. i knew that... i knew it but i also knew that if you showed up like this at my door back then i would've taken you back in a heartbeat. and it made me hate myself, because i loved you more than i loved myself."

"i'm so sorry, y/n. i really am-"

"babe! where are you?", you heard bf!renjun screaming from your room, with his sleepy and worried voice.

"i'll be right back, junnie.", you answered with a little smile on your face, imagining your boyfriend with his eyes closed and a pout on his face as his arm was lying on your empty side of the bed. you turned back to face jeno, whose face seemed like he saw a ghost, "jeno, i appreciate the apology... but you're a little too late. i've stopped waiting for you a long time ago.", you gave him a small apologetic smile.

jeno looked at you and realized how much he fucked up. you've rightfully moved on and he was the only one being stuck in something he created. when you replied to your boyfriend, that was when he noticed the smile on your face, the same smile that used to be directed to him, and that was the only time he saw you express happiness since he appeared on your doorstep.

"fuck, you're really here.", a familiar voice said right after you heard the elevator doors open.

"i really wished i was wrong.", another familiar voice said.

you turned your head and saw two people, you thought you wouldn't see again, walking towards your apartment.

"time to go home, samoyed."

"haechan. jaemin.", you greeted your ex's bestfriends.

"sorry for the disruption.", ex's bestfriend!haechan told you before grabbing jeno's arm and putting it around his shoulders, helping his friend walk away from your apartment and your life.

"how have you been ?", your old childhood bestfriend!jaemin said, letting jeno and haechan walk away first.

"great...you?"

"same."

the feeling of awkwardness and nostalgia could be sensed in the air. you looked at each other a few more seconds as all the memories of your friendship, from when you met in kindergarten to when he stayed by jeno's side when you two broke up, flashed through your eyes.

"baaaabeee!!", your boyfriend whined from far away, "come baaaack!"

"well, it's late. we're going to let you go back to your night. sorry about that.", jaemin nodded towards your ex, "and everything else...", hinting at his own mistakes.

you nodded, acknowledging his apology, "bye, jaem.", you gave him one last smile. it had been a while since he heard his nickname coming out of your mouth.

"bye, y/n.", jaemin returned your smile.

you watched him walk away with his two other friends, knowing that your byes stood as an official farewell to your friendship and his presence in your life.

#nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct angst #lee jeno scenarios #lee jeno imagines #lee jeno timestamps #lee jeno fluff #lee jeno angst #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno timestamps #jeno fluff #jeno angst

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lukehughes43 · 9 months

Text

dial drunk

trevor zegras x reader based and inspired by the song "dial drunk" by noah kahan.

warnings: drinking, angst, lots of angst, swearing, a few mentions of sex word count: 17,332 i'm sorry😭

“hey y/n/n, it’s uh, it’s trevor.”

his words were slurred together into one big drunken mess which trevor always turned into when he was home in bedford at the same time as you. despite everything telling you to delete the message right then and there, you kept listening, feeling as if there was something you needed to hear from his drunken ramblings.

“fuck i don’t even know why i’m calling you,” his laugh had a melancholy feeling to it, “i just remembered i promised to forget you, doya remember that, y/n/n?”

of course, you remembered. you were the one who made him promise to forget all about you after your less-than-clean break-up nearly three years ago now. thinking that it would be best for both of you and selfishly more so better for yourself.

“but i broke that promise, just like i broke so many other promises, right y/n/n?” there was a painful silence as it seemed as if he was waiting for you to answer him. only it was a voicemail, and you were never going to answer him. “wrong.” it was a hissed out slur. one that caused your heart that was finally taped together to slowly unravel. “i never broke any promises to you, y/n, well except this one.”

trevor let out a sigh, “i uh, i’m only making this fucking call because i have to tell you something. because i called you two nights ago. you hung up on me. you didn’t call me back.” he was hiccuping between words, whether it was because he was drunk or on the verge of having a breakdown was unclear to you. “i don’t like it, that they called you. that even after all this time i’m still so fucking in love with you i gave them your name y/n. your name. in a city full of my family and friends, but i said your name.” that’s when the tears fell.

for both of you.

you listened to him fall apart from the safety of your childhood bedroom that still had pictures of trevor and you lingering around it. hands tugging at the loose thread of your duvet as his sobs rang throughout your ears like your dial tone did when he tried calling you last night - surprised that he managed to hear your honey-sweet voice on your voicemail outgoing.

“i just wanted you to know that - that i don’t like that i gave them your name as my emergency phone call as they threw me in the cop car.” there was a long sigh before a forced laugh fell from his lips, “and one more thing, the cops? yeah, all of them thought you were wrong for hanging up on me.”

there was another beat of silence and you knew it was because he was contemplating what to say next. if he even wanted to say something, or just hang up on you, your voicemail, like you had him two nights ago when he was hurt and needed you.

he let out another shaky breath before he contiuned speaking, sending you into a crippling mess. “i dial your number drunk, y/n. honestly, at this point i’ll probably die a drunk, but that doesn’t change the fact that i would still die for you.”

and just like that, the message was over. trevor’s normally smooth voice was gone, the only thing to be heard was the sound of the rain falling against the glass of your window and your heart shattering in the pit of your stomach once more.

----

being back in bedford was normally exactly what trevor needed to rest from the demanding schedule of the nhl. normally being the keyword in that sentence. bedford had lost its calming effect on trevor the moment you had broken up almost three years ago. now he only had a sense of calm in his hometown when you were stuck away in boston because of school. what happened when you were in bedford at the same time? trevor turned into a drunken mess, days blurring together and not in a good way, praying that the alcohol would help suppress his feelings if he were to run into you. hoping that it would help him forget you like he had promised that night you stood across from each other in the cold new york air.

only it never did, despite how hard he tried.

meaning the time trevor spent in bedford grew shorter and shorter each time he came to visit his family. reaching the point where he spent the entire summer split between the hughes lake house, and jack and quinn’s shared home in michigan last year just to get away from the pain you still caused him.

pain caused based on the fact you refused to love him anymore, and he still wasn’t sure why.

trevor and you had been together for four years before you decided to break up with him before he left for world juniors in the winter of 2020 (in which he went on to win mvp and a gold medal). you were crazy about each other and had been since you first met. your relationship had made it through two different long-distance periods, was going to make it through a third before you ended it, and everyone was convinced you were going to get married. that’s why you ending it blindsided him as much as did. sent him into such a spiral that he had no choice but to take out his emotions during the world juniors tournament and walk away the highest-scoring american since jeremy roenick.

after winning gold and heading back to san diego he was fine. at least that’s what he told everyone - including himself. in reality, he was drowning every night in his tears and not drinking alcohol, yet. the drinking started that summer.

he was out to eat with his family on the main stretch of roads that ran right through bedford. his world stopped as he watched you walk across the street, laughing along to something your best friend gracie had said. the wind was taken right from his chest as his green eyes stared at you, willing you to look over at him, to see him, to will him back to breathing. only you didn’t even turn your head in his direction, instead ducking inside the little coffee shop and sitting at a table full of friends he recognized from your grad party.

that was the first time he had seen you since you broke his heart into a million different pieces, and it was the first time he felt the need to drink himself to sleep while in the same city as you. each time he’d seen you since then had gotten more complex and harder for him. causing him to keep reaching for whatever bottle he could get his hands on once he was safe from the curse of you.

leading up all to this moment in time. june seventh, two thousand and twenty-three.

his hand was shaking as he reached for his phone, throat dry despite the empty corona bottle that rested in the cup holder of his plastic chair. your contact was taunting him, your e/c eyes staring back at him from the picture he had never changed. your entire contact in his iphone remained as it did three years ago, “y/n/n<3” right in the middle of the screen, and the picture of you hoisted up on his back at the draft staring back at him right above it.

there wasn’t a chance for him to even think about what he was doing, not that he could because he was far from sober after all, the dial tone was filling his ears. as trevor sat and waited for you to pick up the phone it felt as if the entire world was on the verge of falling apart around him. he thought it was about to end completely when the dial tone finally came to an end, only instead a recording of your voice filled his ears:

“hey, it’s y/n! sorry i missed your call, i’ll call you back as soon as i can. until then, smile at a stranger and make their day. bye!”

the twenty-two-year-old had to choke back a sob at the sound of your voice for the second time in three years. he’d never made it this far before, to your voicemail, normally he hung up after the second ring of the dial tone. that was until two nights ago when he called you from the police station after the ride in the back of the cop car. now he was struggling with what he wanted to say to you in the first place, the drunk thoughts overpowering his sober thoughts that he was originally called to try and say.

“hey y/n/n, it’s uh, it’s trevor,” he began. silently praying the slur in his words wasn’t as noticeable through the phone as if you were going to be sitting here next to him. “fuck, i don’t even know why i’m calling you.” a heartbreaking laugh fell passed his lips, hand running through his rain-soaked hair. “i just remembered i promised to forget you, doya remember that, y/n/n?”

while he thought he could get away with slurring in his opening sentence he knew you’d hear the slurring of his words in that line, practically able to smell the alcohol through the phone that he reeked. light beer and fresh rainwater were the new scents trevor zegras was sporting, his favorite when he was stuck in his thoughts about you. thoughts like why you even asked him to promise you something like that, how was he supposed to forget you? he’d been in love with you for four years before you broke things off, you can’t just force yourself out of love.

shaking his head he pulled himself out of his drunken thoughts to get back to the task at hand, “but i broke that promise, just like i broke so many other promises, right y/n/n?” licking his lips trevor stayed silent, wanting for a response. for your voice to cut through the patter of raindrops on the hardwood beneath his bare feet. wait for you to exclaim ‘you never broke your promise, trevor john’ only there was no answer. there would never be an answer so he hissed out, “wrong. i never broke any promises to you, y/n, well expect this one.” sighing he fell back into his chair, reaching down into the cooler next to his chair, and pulled out another beer. “i uh, i’m only making this fucking call because i have to tell you something.” he popped the cap of the corona off before speaking again. “because i called you, two nights ago.” drink. “you hung up on me.” drink. “you didn’t call me back.” drink. “i don’t like it, that they called you. that even after all this time i’m still so fucking in love with you i gave them your name, y/n. your name. in a city full of my family and friends, but i said your name.” tears began to carve a path down his tanned cheeks, mixing with the rain drops as they both fell in a perfect rhythm together.

his sobs subsided just enough to get out the right of his message. “i just wanted you to know that - that i don’t like that i gave them your name as my emergency phone call as they threw me in the cop car.” a mix between a deep sigh and a laugh-filled the dark backyard before he left his final blow: “and one more thing, the cops? yeah, all of them thought you were wrong for hanging up on me.”

trevor fought with himself, trying to decide if he was worth telling you. worth allowing himself to turn into the charming young man you once knew, and for a split second, what remained of his former self had shown through and he let out the confession he was terrified to hear, and more terrified of what you would do once you’d listen to his voicemail. if you even did listen to his voicemail.

“i dial your number drunk, y/n.” tears fell down his cheeks as he allowed the self pity to wash over him. as he finally accepted the fact he was the villain in what was a once a famed love story. “honestly, at this point i’ll probably die a drunk, but that doesn’t change the fact that i would still die for you.”

he hit the red circle so quickly that he almost cut off his final word, but he didn’t care. because now he was stuck thinking about how his downward spiral caused by you breaking up with him three years ago had hit its rock bottom two nights ago. all because he started throwing drunk punches to defend the honor of somebody he didn’t even know anymore.

----

june fifth, two thousand and twenty-three. while to many others it was just a normal monday night at the start of summer, to you and trevor, june fifth was the biggest turning point in your no longer-existent relationship - yet neither of you knew it.

while you were in your room getting ready for a date - only the second one you’d gone on since breaking up with trevor - your former lover was busy writing down a list of food needed from the grocery store. as you finished applying your lipstick (trevor’s favorite shade on you no less) he was across town throwing reusable bags into the back of his bronco.

there were butterflies in your stomach as you walked downstairs to sit and wait in your living room. since trevor, this was the first time you had genuinely felt nervous over a guy. granted it was only the second date you had gone on in close to three years you still had hooked up with a couple at parties but none of them made you feel anything and left you thinking about trevor as you waited to make your escape once they’d fallen asleep.

trevor on the other hand couldn’t keep a girl even if he wanted to. how could he when every girl he spent time with he compared directly to you - the love of his life? occasionally he’d find himself stumbling around a random girl from the bar’s apartment, but it never lasted. no matter how good the sex was, or wasn’t, he was never completely satisfied. his mind stuck thousands of miles away with you.

your date, charlie, was over ten minutes late the next time you glanced at your phone and the butterflies in your stomach had slowly started to die. sighing you slouched back against your coach while trying to ignore the watchful eyes of your parents. both who were still pro-trevor, and made it known to you how much damage you had caused the ‘sweet boy’ whenever they had a chance. not that you could blame them though, you knew how much you hurt him. you just knew staying with him would hurt you even worse.

the star ducks player was right on schedule as he began his trek across bedford to the grocery store. waving as he drove past charlie henderson, an old friend from elementary school, having no idea that he was on his way to pick you up for a date. the blond waved back almost instantly, smiling two times as wide for two different reasons. the first being he was on his way to your house and not trevor, something he would have never dreamed of in a million years. the second was because it was trevor fucking zegras waving at him, and to be honest, he was surprised trevor even remembered he existed.

by the time charlie pulled into your half-circle driveway, he was a total of twenty minutes late. not to mention that when he arrived he didn’t run up to the door and eagerly knock with a bright smile on his face. instead, he chose a more twenty-first-century approach with a ‘here’ text message on snapchat. what remained of the butterflies you once had in your stomach had officially died with that. sighing you pushed yourself off the couch and walked towards the entryway, “um charlie’s here so i’m gonna go. i’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

a disappointed look painted your mother’s face, while your father began to shake his head. muttering something into your mother’s ear so you didn’t overhear him. however, as you walked out the door you did hear the comment your mother threw out, “trevor never showed up late. he always came to the door.” her words were sharp and cut deep into your heart. suddenly something that seemed to be going so well was going so terribly wrong.

it was pure luck, rather an unfortunate circumstance, that as trevor was walking out of the grocery store as you and charlie were stuck at the red right in front of the store’s parking lot. even hundreds of yards away trevor could make out your h/c curled as your head rested against the window. in an instant, trevor’s semi-decent mood had shifted to one of pure heart-shattering agony. had he been thinking straight he would’ve remembered you only leaned your head against the car window when you wanted to go, only he was currently thinking of the closest bar as the ten minutes drive back home seemed too far of a wait for him.

you saw him as soon as charlie rolled the car to a stop. he hadn’t seen you yet, head tucked down looking at the blacktop and his rainbow flip-flops. until by some stroke of luck, perhaps unfortunate circumstances, he looked up and saw you. his green eyes tripled in size as he stared at you and you knew it was because you were in the car with a guy who wasn’t him. your knees were already pointed towards the car door, only now they were touching the plastic interior. this had to have been a sign - seeing trevor. you wanted to curl up into yourself as you waited for what seemed like forever at this light. praying that trevor couldn’t see the way you were staring right back at him, longing to be stuck at this red light with him instead of charlie, yet you wouldn’t admit that to anybody but yourself.

as the light turned green three things happened to three different people.

trevor dropped his reusable bags full of groceries and ran to his car. desperate to drown his pain with the company of the strangers who filled his hometown.

y/n watched with a subtle pang in her chest, feeling as if she broke his heart all over again. tears pricked her waterline as she drove away from the scene with a man she no longer wanted to be with.

and charlie continued to ramble aimlessly on about how he is the president of a frat at u-maine. completely obviously to the hurt, the two former lovers were going through. instead when he caught the sight of the bright yellowish-orange bronco he cut his ramblings off to say, “hey! i saw trevor on my way to pick you up. ya know, he even waved to me. i had no idea he still knew who i was. i mean he’s a bigshot nhl player now. probably pulling instagram models - girls that are way out of his league. then again he probably learned how to do that from you, right y/n/n?”

a shaky breath left your mouth as you turned away from the window for the first time since you got in the car. “excuse me?” you huffed, arms crossing over your chest as your eyes narrowed at him. “are you implying trevor’s out of my league, charlie?”

with a fight breaking out on a first date in the silver honda accord, an internal war was raging in the confines of the yellow bronco. with heaving breaths trevor began to pull at his hair. “she’s on a date. y/n’s on a date with charlie henderson? there’s- there’s.” his words were cut off as he began to slam his hands down against the steering wheel. trying to prevent the tears that were collecting on his lashes from falling. “fuck!” he screamed, voice rattling the glass of his windows as he did so.

“what?! no! no-” sighing charlie shrugged his shoulders while barely glancing over at you. “i mean yeah, everyone thought so, y/n. it was only a matter of time until he broke up with you, so when news traveled back that you broke up with him. nobody believed it. i mean come on y/n/n, trevor was always going to end up in the nhl, and you’re what, going to be a kid’s doctor? yeah i dunno, like i said it was only a matter of time.”

trevor clenched his fist before he reached forward with shaking hands to his steering wheel. starting the car and backing out as fast as he could. making sure he went in the complete opposite direction of the silver honda that you sat in, not able to bear it if he saw the two of you at the bar while he tried to drink his pain away.

the tears fell faster than you could stop them as you stared over at him in awe. he had managed to hit every single one of your insecurities from dating trevor right on the head, and threw them back in your face like you were nothing. with trevor splitting time between the gulls in san diego and the ducks in anaheim a war had begun to grow between your head and your heart. thinking about how he could spend all of his free time with a new instagram model every night, but you knew he wouldn’t do that. not when the both of you had talked about marriage and starting a family for hours on end. only as time went on, and the bigger trevor started to get, you felt as if you were slowly falling into the shadows of his life. then there was the fact you felt as if your career wasn’t enough for him, or for your future. self-doubt was a powerful demon, working its magic to make you believe as soon as trevor was a full-time nhl player he would force you to abandon your studies for your future career and turn into a full-time nhl girlfriend who sat there and looked pretty. so by thanksgiving you had made up your mind to end things with the then nineteen-year-old. forcing yourself to slowly fall out of love with him. something you were still forcing yourself to do even after all this time.

as soon as trevor pulled into the little dive bar a couple miles outside of town he was reaching for his phone. he scrolled through his messages for the one person who wouldn’t ask him any questions as to why he disappeared and never returned with the groceries. double clicking on the picture of his brother and him from a wrestling meet - three years ago in december - he typed out a frantic message before turning his phone off and walking into the bar:

something came up. couldn’t get the groceries home. they’re laying in the middle of the parking lotor i’ll venmo you $200 and you can buy more

griffin zegras, while being the younger brother he loved just as hard as his older brother, and was even wiser than the eldest zegras sibling. so when he got the message from his older brother he knew right away that you came up. while he didn’t know what had exactly happened, he had a suspicion that it was something pretty drastic for trevor to drop the groceries in the middle of a parking lot and rush away to an undisclosed location. sighing he liked the message before walking towards the door, “come on av, we gotta go get the groceries.”

an angered laugh fell past your lips as you glared over at the boy. “it was only a matter of time?” shaking your head you looked down at your phone to see that it had only taken fifteen minutes for the date to get completely blown to shit. “you know charles, i’m starting to remember why i never was interested in you during high school,” you started to explain, wiping the tears from your eyes. “because you’re a selfish asshole who gets off on the downfalls of other people, so i think it’s time you take me home.”

“i need the strongest drink you have,” was the first thing out of trevor’s mouth as he threw himself down on the bar stool. the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head in an attempt to blend in with the crowd so nobody realized it was him ‘trevor zegras center for the anaheim ducks’ when all he wanted to be was ‘drunk guy at the bar number two.’

charlie stared over at you with a look of complete disbelief, nobody had ever called him out on his bullshit before tonight. why would they when he could just buy his friend's company with all the money his parents make? his shocked expression remained etched across his face as he pulled into a dunkin parking lot to turn around. even more shocked that he was following through with your wishes of going home when he had waited years for the opportunity to go out with you. yet here he was, giving in to you without any protest, because deep down he knew you were right. he just wasn’t willing to openly admit it.

within the first five minutes of sitting at the bar counter, trevor had managed to completely down the moscow mule which was placed in front of him, as well as three shots of vodka. with his vision toeing the line of fuzzy and seeing straight he backed off the hard alcohol and ordered a bud light. with his buzz well in place, he knew he’d be okay to sip on a beer as you were a distant thought in his alcohol-clouded head.

“oh hi honey, you’re back early.” the sound of your mother's voice was next to one of the last things you wanted to hear as you slowly shut the front door behind you. originally hoping that you could sneak back in without facing the questions as to why you were home. yet your parents' movie night completely ruined that plan. taking a deep breath you walked into the open space, and the scene of seeing your parents happily cuddled up together, how to lose a guy in 10 days on tv, caused you to turn into a sobbing mess. because all you could think of at that moment was how you wanted your future to look exactly like this with one certain person: trevor.

charlie watched as you walked in your front door, and as soon as it was closed he was speeding out of the half-circle driveway towards his sanctuary: the bar. more specifically the bar that trevor was currently holed up in, but neither of them knew this. instead, both of them were both stuck in their thoughts on how to drink enough to get you off their minds.

when you had left for your date with charlie, someone whom both of your parents didn’t think was right for you, they agreed to not say another word on the matter to you. meaning they weren’t going to bring up trevor unless you did. all they wanted was for you to be happy, and if this so-called charles henderson fellow, umaine frat president, could make you happy, then that was all they cared about. so they went along with their nightly plans of watching a rom-com, drinking a bottle of wine, and falling asleep on the couch just like they did in their first year of marriage. just as andie was about to ask ben for another diet coke at the knicks game, you opened the front door. reaching forward, your mother set down her wine glass and paused the movie before turning to look back at you, “oh hi honey, you’re back early.” your father squeezed her hand that he was holding as they both watched the tears begin to fall down your cheeks, simultaneously breaking their hearts. “sweetie what happened? you haven’t cried over a boy since tr-” immediately she caught herself by clearing her throat and restarted. “oh honey, come here.”

time had seemingly stopped for trevor. was this his first beer or his third? he couldn’t remember anymore. while he had started as casually sipping, he soon began to finish them faster than intended as he realized he had nothing to keep him occupied other than the bottle in his hands. with his phone turned off and stashed away in his pocket, not wanting his family or the boys to have his location pinging at a bar, he was completely alone. normally when he did this at home he had the company of a friend over a facetime call. every night it bounced around from person to person. when he wanted someone to help him reflect on the past with you it was spencer, as he was the resident third wheel of your relationship, having grown across the state line separating new york and connecticut with you. on the nights he didn’t want to talk or think about you at all, like tonight, he would call jamie since he never had the chance to meet you. jamie also missed out on the man trevor was before the breakup. while he was still charming, he would change from charming to alarming in seconds, jamie always had to walk on thin glass. nights where he just wanted comfort it was griffin, as there was nothing better than brotherly love, and someone able to hold you while you fall apart. except for tonight, trevor had nobody. he was completely and utterly alone with nobody he knew: until the front door opened and in walked charlie henderson.

sniffling, you wiped away the tears that clung to your jawline before offering your parents a small smile, “can i crash date night after i change?” instantly your mother was nodding her head, your father smiling over at you softly. this gives you the chance to run up to your room and change into the only piece of clothing that could give you comfort when you heart this bad, trevor’s boston university hockey sweatshirt. the last team issued one he got before the covid pandemic shut down his college career and he signed with the ducks. when you wore the gray sweatshirt it felt like he was right there with you. holding you close and promising you everything was going to work out for the better. his scent had long faded, but the idea of it being his was what grounded you. so much so that you were reaching for your phone and his contact.

trevor’s once relaxed body had now become rigid at the sound of charlie’s smooth voice. he was too afraid to dare to look over and risk seeing you hanging off his arm, so instead he ordered another beer and turned so his back was completely towards his former classmate. he hadn’t understood why you agreed to go out on a date with charlie henderson. in high school, he was nothing but sleazy. flaunting his parents' money around to gain the attention of girls, and the friendship of the boys in your grade. sure he was good-looking, but trevor was certain there wasn’t a single brain cell behind those dull, lifeless eyes. when he went away to avon trevor would hear all about the charlie stories through you. how you would roll your eyes every time he tried to make a move on you, always pointing out that you and trevor were still very much together. so it bewildered him that you were currently on a date with charlie ‘frat president’ henderson. then again, people change and maybe charlie had. trevor knew that he had changed for the worse, maybe charlie had changed for the better. and who was he to judge you for your choices? he didn’t even know you anymore.

tears stung your eyes as you stared down at the contact that no longer had a name, but you would know the phone number despite the missing name, even if there was still a random selfie trevor had taken as the contact photo. why you had kept the photo but erased his name made no sense to you back then, and even less now, but that’s not what you were worried about. instead, you were worried about how your hands were shaking as your finger ghosted over the call button. your heart was beating so hard against your rib cage it was starting to hurt. you couldn’t call him, not after all this time. not after ripping his heart out and throwing it on the ground to stomp on it, all while you were still madly in love with him. you couldn’t. yet, you did.

if trevor’s phone had been on he would’ve felt it buzz in his pocket. he would’ve set his bud light down and pulled out his phone instead. the four-year-old picture would’ve flashed across his screen, your name lighting it up at the top. tears would’ve formed in his eyes as he stared down at the eighteen-year-old versions of yourselves before swiping the answer call across his screen. he would feel charlie henderson’s eyes on him as he let out a breath with one thing leaving his lips, “y/n/n.”

only trevor’s phone didn’t buzz, and your call would be missed as he took another sip of his beer. he was trying his hardest to tone out charlie’s voice which seemed to get louder and louder by the second as if he was trying to get under trevor’s skin. like he knew it was him sitting four stools down from him, and he knew just how to hit the twenty-two-year-old right where it hurt and choose to punch a man while he was down. he had started to bring up you.

the moment charlie walked into the bar he had known it was trevor perched up at the counter. at first, he told himself if he was just going to leave it alone, pretend he didn’t see him like every other person in the bar, and go on with his night. drinking little fruity cocktails while he joked around with his friends to get his mind off you and the date that was a disaster. he was fine doing that until one of his dorky tag-a-long friends didn’t get the memo that they weren’t supposed to bring up the fact he wasn’t supposed to be here and said, “aren’t you supposed to be out with y/n l/n right now?” while he could’ve chosen the easy road of telling the truth, one that would shatter his ego and imagine amongst his friends, he began to see red and chose the complete opposite. he chose violence.

“hey, it’s z! sorry i can’t get to the phone right now, i’ll give ya a call when i can!” the voicemail recording caused the sinking feeling in your heart to grow even larger. sniffling you hit the big red end button as the woman's voice explained the steps of leaving a voicemail. you knew you shouldn’t have called, and that trevor not answering wasn’t a surprise to you. running a hand through your curls you slipped the phone into the pocket of his sweatshirt, pulled on a pair of shorts, and walked downstairs to meet your parents. “i’ll make more popcorn if you guys pour me a glass?”

“yeah i was, but she was just so boring,” charlie drawled, trying to think of more lies he could say to cover for himself. “y/n l/n isn't interesting in the slightest. i really don’t get what people see in her.” as his friends kept laughing the smile on his face grew more and more. fuelling the fire that now burned inside of him. nobody called charles j. henderson out on his bullshit and got away with it.

at first, trevor thought he was hallucinating hearing your name come out of charlie’s mouth. because there was no way charlie henderson called you, y/n m/n l/n, boring and uninteresting. so much to the point that he had to end the date twenty minutes after it started. “yeah, you don’t even understand. she was like, fake sobbing because i told her i couldn’t do it. like i’m sorry, i don’t want to spend my night with a girl who’s clearly a four.” finishing his drink he threw three twenty dollar bills down before turning in his seat to look down the bar at charlie. his blood was already boiling, yet he was still waiting for the prime opportunity to pounce on the scumbag.

with a fresh bowl of popcorn resting on the coffee table, and three full glasses of wine surrounding it, you were finally ready to settle down on the couch with your parents to watch the movie. “we restarted it for you, honey. we know how much you like this movie,” your dad said while smiling over at you. taking note of the way you clung to the sweatshirt that was on your frame. he pressed play and you let out a blissful sigh, staring at the opening credits and thinking about how for the next hour and a half, you’d be starting at a young matthew mcconaughey who you thought looked uncannily like trevor in this movie. trying to completely forget about the fact he had sent you to voicemail.

“i don’t think y/n’s a four,” one of charlie’s cronies replied sheepishly, pushing the salt around the rim of his margarita. “she’s like, one of the hottest girls i’ve ever seen! and i mean, she pulled trevor zegras.” charlie cringed at the thought of you and trevor happily together. all he wanted was a chance with you, and the one time he got that chance it was ruined by some stupid nhl player who didn’t even graduate college. meanwhile, he had graduated and on top of that, he did it while organizing frat party after frat party. what did trevor do? nothing! he left you up for grabs three different times because of hockey. in his opinion it was time you dumped him, even if he was out of your league, so you could settle down with somebody more like him. seeing how displeased charlie had grown with his comments in defense of you, matt the cronie, frowned before changing his tune about you. “yeah you’re right, char, she is a four. a total four! i mean, what did zegras even see in her, to begin with? probably only stuck with her because she was too ugly to cheat on him, and wouldn’t feel bad cheating on her when he left for hockey.”

if the words charlie’s friends were spewing about you weren’t enough to get his blood boiling, then the way charlie’s lips curled up into an evil smile was. he rushed off of his stool and stomped his way over to the group, a scowl on his face as he watched all of them but charlie stare at him in awe. he was still a famous nhl player after all. “don’t you fucking idiots dare let y/n’s name leave your mouth again, or i swear to god i’ll kill you. all of you. she’s too pure-hearted and too good of a person for you to be dragging her name in the dirt. she’s the type of beautiful where you’re lucky to be in her presence. inside and out.” his nostrils flared as he heaved out every word laced with anger. “and you,” he seethed turning his full attention to charlie, “consider yourself fucking lucky someone as incredible as y/n agreed to go on a date with a self-absorbed egotistical asshole like yourself. you’re calling her uninteresting? the only thing you have to show for yourself is the fact you were a frat president at umaine, nobody gives a shit dude!”

even with your attention on the movie you could feel the way your mother kept glancing over at you. you were an open book to her. you knew it was only a matter of time until she said you could talk to her, or asked about trevor’s sweatshirt. and as if almost on cue she leaned over to whisper into your ear. “do you want to talk about it, sweetie? it has to have been pretty bad if you’re wearing trevor’s sweatshirt. you only do that when you’re really upset.” shrugging your shoulders you reached forward and grabbed your glass of wine. praying that taking a sip would end her pestering. she ran a hand through your hair and pressed a kiss against your forehead, “whenever you’re ready, i’m ready.” only you didn’t think you’d be ready to talk about the events of this night for a long time. not until you at least figured it out for yourself, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever figure it out for yourself.

the cronies were stifling back their laughter as they listened to trevor tear into their group's leader. only the laughter came to a halt as chalire jumped out of his barstool to stand chest to chest with the six-foot-even nhl forward. “think you’re a big man now that you’re in the nhl z?” charlie asked with a taunting tone, head tilted to the side as he just barely stared down at the hockey player. “well you’re not, dumbass. i mean look at you, you’re getting blackout drunk in a bar over your ex-girlfriend who broke up with you three years ago. you’re pathetic. just like y/n’s little dream of being a doctor.” matt and nate let out a chorus of ‘ooh’s’ like the group was still in high school, right away beginning to make small comments to each other. “maybe you guys did deserve each other, could’ve been pathetic together.”

that’s when the first punch was thrown.

“i tried calling him,” you whispered out only for your mother to hear. because you knew if your father heard it would be over. his hopes would get too high, and he would fly too close to the sun thinking he was about to get his best friend back. even your mother perked up hearing that you had called him. “but he didn’t answer,” you added, e/c eyes completely focused on the screen in front of you. “it’s probably for the best that he didn’t answer. i can’t blame him.” you were sniffling before burying your head in your mother’s chest. fighting back the tears as you snuggled closer to her. wondering why you had let your anxiety and the possibility of trevor and your relationship turning toxic steer you away from the only person you’d ever love.

your father listened from the other side of your mother, a frown overtaking his features while he sunk into the couch. he couldn’t help but feel as if all of this heartbreak had been his fault. he was the reason you and trevor had met in the first place. (the reason you had met spencer too but that’s beside the point right now). on the side of his day job as a pediatrician, he coached a local youth hockey team. while you played on the girl's team, your dad thought it would be best to avoid the whole politics of ‘parent coaches’ and stuck to the boys and that’s how he met trevor and spencer. you met at an outdoor jamboree at the ripe age of five, and since then you had been inseparable. it was only a matter of time until you and trevor ended up together, and nobody was happier about that than your father. trevor was the son he never knew he wanted. he just fit in with your family, with your lives. so when you came back inside that december night crying, saying you had broken up, poor d/n l/n felt like it was all his fault two of his favorite people in the world were crushed as badly and as deeply as they were. he still couldn’t forgive himself.

trevor had swung at charlie first. his right fist splitting his lip in half. the blood coated his knuckles and the tiled floor. as he watched charlie stumble backward he turned his attention to matt first. “you know matt, i was going to spare you, but then you had to go and change your tune just for a couple of hundred bucks,” he slurred with a smirk on his face, “so i gotta do what i gotta do, i hope you can respect that man.” he didn’t give the boy chance to answer before he threw another heavy right hook. this time breaking the matt’s nose. the crunch of the cartilage breaking could be heard throughout the whole bar, and that’s what gained the attention of every bar-goer. trevor had sealed his fate as soon as the first punch was thrown.

the onlookers in the bar couldn’t believe what was happening in front of them. it wasn’t every day that a true bar fight broke out, and it certainly wasn’t every day that it was an nhl player took part in it. barry, the regular bartender, figured it would sort itself out. a couple of punches would be thrown and then the group would separate and there would be nothing to worry about. it would be a done deal. only that wasn’t what happened in this case. charlie henderson, after picking himself up off the counter, lunged forward and socked trevor right in the temple. laying it on thick enough to give the star player a black eye for a couple of days, maybe even a week. when trevor lunged forward and tackled the entitled prick to the grimy floor is when poor barry had to make the phone call to the police, seeing as matt and nate were doing absolutely nothing to help their friend, and trevor wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

“sweetheart,” your mother cooed while running a hand up and down your back. “just give trevor a little time. you haven’t talked in nearly three years, he’s probably scared to hear from you considering the last time you saw each other…” as she trailed off you nodded along with what she was saying. she made a valid argument in trevor’s defense. if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t answer you on the first phone call either. you asked him to completely forget you existed, so he had to have been fairly confused about why you were even trying to call him. you had never attempted to reach out to him before, but what he didn’t know is that you still kept tabs on him. asked spencer and your parents about him, sometimes even reaching out to jack if an opportunity presented itself to you. you still followed him on instagram to see what he was up to, but never liking any posts so he wouldn’t know. (he knew. he checked his following once a month to see if your name was still amongst the sea of random people he didn’t care about). you still cared about him and loved him, but he just didn’t know it, so you figured it was time to change that. if only he had answered the call.

trevor’s knuckles burned with every punch he threw, pulling them as he knew he couldn’t beat this kid to a bloody pulp. although, if you looked at his split knuckles you would think that he had. the blood from charlie’s split lip and broken nose had coated his own on his cracked open knuckles. leaning over the man trevor tried to catch his breath before throwing one more threat his way. “don’t you ever fucking talk about y/n again. if i find out you did, i won’t be so gentle next time.” carefully he pulled himself off charlie before leaning back against a barstool, a bad decision on his part because the next thing he knew charlie was barking orders at matt and nate when he clearly should’ve sought medical attention for his broken nose.

within an instant the two cowards were pinning him down to the blood-filled floor as charlie leaned over with a nasty grin, blood dripping down to the tiles next to his dirty blond hair.

“you’re going to wish you never threw that punch when i’m done with you, big z. cause you see, i have nothing to lose unlike you.” and with that charlie drilled him in the left side of his head, making sure that his black eye wasn’t going away for a long period of time.

shrugging your shoulder’s you nodded, a defeated sigh leaving your lips. “yeah, i wouldn’t have answered me either,” you mumbled, curling yourself into the other end of the couch. beginning to nurse the glass of wine you were about to refill. eyes refocusing on the screen in front of you as ben and andie sat at a couple’s counselor. it was a cruel joke in your eyes now, that if you had thought of going to therapy by yourself or with trevor maybe none of this would’ve happened. maybe he’d be with you right now, cuddled up on the love seat throwing popcorn at each other while your parents looked on in awe of you. but you know what they say, dreams are for rookies.

with each punch charlie landed on trevor’s face he felt his ego rise once more through his body. there was no doubt his left hook had broken trevor’s nose, blood having immediately started to gush from it. only that didn’t stop him. no, charlie was seeing red, while he may have been in the wrong he wasn’t going to let trevor off as easy he did him. no he wasn’t stopping until both eyes were black and blue, his nose was dislocated and resting against his left cheek, and his lips had cracks and split in them. he wanted trevor zegras to be unrecognizable when he was done with him, and he would’ve had his way if he hadn’t heard the sirens over the mood music in the bar. “oh fuck, that’s the cops!” charlie yelled, jumping off trevor. in the process, kneeing him right in the stomach. while it wasn’t intentional he couldn’t lie, he was happy it had happened. “nate, matt, we gotta get out of here. my dad still hasn’t paid my speeding tickets.” as they ran towards the front door it was pushed open by two middle-aged police officers. the ginger took in the scene in front of him, while the blond shook his head.

“nobody’s going anywhere. you’re all coming with us.”

groaning out in agony trevor didn’t even try to pull himself off the floor. he was far too embarrassed by what had occurred to have the will to move. he was embarrassed about everything but defending your name. if you were still together and this had happened he knew you’d be giving him an ear full. telling him that your name isn’t as important as his reputation, and the status his name held. but ultimately you would cave, thanking him for defending you before the two of you fell asleep. now, he didn’t know what you would do when word got back to you. would you be mad at him? happy he stuck up for you? it would be a lie to say he didn’t care because he did. he had to know what you thought of the events that occurred. little did he know, but he would find out sooner rather than later what you thought of this little bar brawl.

“i’m going to grab the other bottle of red and make some nachos to go along with it. do either of my women need something while i’m up?” asked your father as he paused the movie, right as it was about to get good. classic dad move. your mother got up to accompany him, while you stayed rooted in your seat. finishing the glass in your hands. besides pausing movies at random times, your dad had always been a sweetheart. there was nothing more he wanted in life than to have a family, to have children. unfortunately for both your mother and father, you were the only child they were gifted with. it was a struggle to have you as your mother struggled with fertility issues, yet that didn’t damper either of their spirits, especially your fathers. during the day he thrived as a pediatrician that every parent wanted their child to go to. he had a gift when it came to children. and by night he was a resident youth hockey coach. but first and foremost he was a family man. there was nothing he wouldn’t do for either you or your mother. big or small, he was always the first person offering to help. he was the one who picked up your pieces after the breakup. he was your true confidant. he explained to you that at one point in their lives, your parents had broken up. your father was struggling to stay afloat in med school, and your mother was thriving at the bedford elementary school as a teacher. the distance, and the fact he felt he wasn’t enough for her, was enough for him to end their relationship. their break lasted almost a year until they reconnected in a hospital waiting room. it was because of your parents and your father practically doing the exact thing you did, that you even had the slightest hope you and trevor could rekindle your relationship. only, you were starting to realize, you should’ve called after year one, not year three.

“alright kid, time to get up,” the ginger officer drawled while leaning over to pick trevor up by his armpits. once he was up on his feet, the office turned trevor around and pressed him up against the bar counter, and pulled both of his hands behind his back. letting out a sigh trevor couldn’t help but shiver as the metal handcuffs were clasped around his wrists. he was soon pulled forward off the counter and was started towards the door, “you’re facing disorderly conduct. you have the right..” the officers' words trailed off in trevor’s head as he was brought back outside. the blond cop had charlie, matt, and nate huddled together on the hood of his car. he couldn’t quite make out what was being said, but it sounded as if charlie was trying to bribe the officer to not book them. the conversation was completely cut from trevor’s ear as his officer, officer collins, opened the back door, pushed his head down, and pushed him inside. as trevor stared up at him he could only think of one thing.

“wait!” he exclaimed as officer collins was about to shut the door, “my emergency phone call is y/n l/n.”

your mother came back into the room first giving you the perfect opportunity to ask. “mom, do you think there’s still a chance trevor and i end up together? i mean, like you and dad did?” she didn’t answer you, instead, she let out a sigh while leaning down and filling your glass of wine. you could tell that she was thinking of the right thing to say back to you, and that’s how you knew you most likely weren’t going to like the answer she had come up with. “you know mom, you actually don’t have to answer that. it’s silly of me to even think that we did have a chance to get back together. i blew it the moment i broke up with him in twenty-twenty.” while you were currently three glasses deep, starting your fourth, the buzz was beginning to hit you. since the breakup, red wine no longer made you horny as it once had while you were dating trevor, instead, it sent you in a downward spiral of your most inner ward thoughts. the downward spiral which was beginning to happen, yet you didn’t know how to make it stop before it got too bad. “i was so stupid to do that, break up with him. i thought we would end up in a toxic relationship. i thought we would end up hurting each other, so i chose to just hurt him instead. because while it hurt me to do, i got over it. i got over it faster than i should’ve, and every time i came home i wanted him again. i wanted us again, and this time i know i want him and only him forever.” taking a deep breath you looked up at your mother with tears forming in your eyes again, “so mom i do need to know, do you think there’s a chance me and trevor make it in the end?”

officer collins shook his head while slamming the back door in trevor’s face. he stalled for a minute opening his notebook and grabbing his pen. quickly he scribbled down ‘y/n l/n’ before pocketing his notebook and pen and walking to the driver's door. he glanced in his side mirror to watch as officer shandy, the blond, shoved charlie henderson and the other two he didn’t know into the back of his car. he then switched his gaze to his rearview mirror to stare at trevor. he had his busted-up face pressed against his the glass window. he assumed that it was because the coolness of the glass felt good against his cut-up lips and bruised eyes. sighing he pulled his patrol car into gear and checked the mirror one more time before addressing trevor again. “don’t worry kid, we’ll get your face cleaned up then you can make your call.”

“can i make the call first?”

m/n l/n’s heart broke as she sat and listened to your ramblings. in a way she had felt guilty she was even hearing every word that you had begun to utter to her. of course she had thought about you and trevor getting back together multiple times. it was something she had thought of almost daily. but as time grew on she saw it becoming less and less likely of a happy outcome. she, of course, had known trevor would be more than willing to jump at an opportunity to get back together with you, it was you she was worried about. she figured as time grew on you would lose all your interest in the bedford native, so she was completely shocked to hear that you were still all in with trevor. “honey,” she sat back down next to you hands reaching forward and grabbing yours, “i think there’s a chance if you really want there to be.” she squeezed your hands before kissing the top of your head, “i wish i could discredit the words you had just said to me, but unfortunately i know that they hold nothing but the truth. but i do still believe that if you want to be with trevor then you'll find a way to end up with each other.”

“sure kid, you can make your call first if that’s what you really want.” officer collins answer had satisfied trevor to the point where he zoned out into his own little world for the remainder of the drive. by some stroke of fate, they were caught at the same red light charlie and you had been stuck at when trevor had seen you. he took it upon himself to look and see if someone had picked up his grocery bags, they had, griffin and ava having found them right away. his attention was then turned to the traffic lights that seemed to be speaking to him.

“will it be alright?” he asked, whether he spoke it out loud or if it was just in his head he got an answer regardless. as the light turned from red to green it spoke out with a defeated, “i don’t know.”

tears carved their way down your cheeks, leaving what you thought would be a permanent trail as you clung to the little bit of hope your mother’s words gave you. you cradled the wine glass close to your face, watching as your tears fell into the sea of red alcohol, trying to stop yourself from thinking about what your life would look like now if you had never broken up with trevor. thinking how you could be with him doing god knows what. maybe getting in a little trouble, maybe just spending the night in the back of his god-awfully colored bronco at the old lookout point. how he’d be busy cracking jokes, teasing you to no end, all while you playfully would shove his chest before grabbing his chain and pulling him in for another kiss. not stopping until your already swollen lips looked as if you were both stung by bees. instead, you were met with the cruel reality of not having a single clue where trevor was, or what he was doing. you were left alone with your thoughts about when things seemed as if they were never going to end and there was stuck with you: how did you ever think trevor zegras would turn out as a toxic person?

if officer collins had been speaking to him, trevor wouldn’t have had a single clue as to what he was saying. the entire ride to the police station he was busy listening to the in-and-out crackling of the transmitter radio connected to the patrol car. he wasn’t listening to what the dispatcher was saying about situations that need police assistance, or even what the officers were saying in response to these calls. no, he was too busy listening to the static of the transmitter radio as it brought him some sort of weird comforting feeling in his drunken state. taking a deep breath to the beat of the static he sunk into the backseat, head still pressed against the glass staining it with blood and the lingering alcohol on his breath. the static helped lull him into a dreaming dazed state. one where he still had you. in his daydream, you were sitting on his lap as you and all of your friends were huddled around a fire at the hughes lake house. you had just spent the entire day wake surfing and tubing, and now you were sitting around the fire with newly sunkissed skin. the residue of s’more’s gracing the corners of both yours and trevor’s lips. you would be starting to fall asleep in his arms, lazily smiling and laughing at something cole had said before staring back up at trevor as his eyes would’ve already been on you. he was convinced that if you ever got back together his eyes would never leave you in fear of losing you again, so that’s how he pictured it. you falling asleep while staring up at him. surrounded by all of your friends, completely and utterly in love with each other. the sound of a page for officers interrupted the beauty of the transmitter radio static, as well as the daydream trevor, was lost in. groaning he smacked his head back against the headrest, starting the vicious self-loathing cycle he ended up when drunk - hating that he didn’t even know what he did wrong to have lost you.

“how did i ever think trevor would end up as a toxic person?”

before he knew it, officer collins was pulling open the back door again and greeted him with a tight-lipped smile. “alright kid let’s get this all over with.” sighing trevor barely nodded his head as collins pulled him out of the car, and slammed the door behind him once again. trevor kept his head down as he was led into the police station. praying that somehow, this would all work out where his name didn’t end up on page six of the local newspaper, and things wouldn’t reach the executive offices of the ducks. part of him knew it wouldn’t, not when charlie henderson couldn’t jeopardize himself or his last name either. yet as officer collins worked on taking his fingerprints he couldn’t help but begin to worry. about what you would think when you read about the charges in the local paper. what your parents would think, would they still like him? what his parents and family would say. he could already hear griffin’s voice saying ‘are you fucking stupid?’ but he was currently stuck on wondering what the ducks would say about all of this. what twitter would say, because sooner or later his entire life always ended up on twitter, it was always just a matter of time. somewhere in his train of thought, he was handed a plaque reading his name and the date for his mug shot, still clinging on to the piece of hope that all of this would get blown over as soon as charlie and his friends were brought in. he turned to the sides when told, hands tightly holding on to the black plastic in his hands. waiting patiently for his next instructions. until it happened, and he felt his heart race within the confines of his rib cage.

“alright kid, you can go make your phone call now.”

your mother seemed stunned at the question, you have completely caught her off guard once more. she remained silent as you tried to choke back the sobs that were about to resurface from earlier. remembering he hadn’t answered your phone call, wondering why you had felt like you weren’t enough for him, why you thought he would force you away from your dreams when he was the one who pushed you and supported you to try and accomplish them. (which you had since done. having graduated from boston college and were currently in the process of deciding which university to complete medical school at). you had helped save him countless of times before, no matter how drastic the measures you were there for him, and he was there for you. yet in your greatest time of need, when you needed him the most, you refused to open up enough to him to allow him to help combat your self-doubt and took the easy way out instead. “you lost your way for a little while, honey,” your mother finally spoke with ease to her words. trying her hardest to make you believe what she was saying. “you lost your way and lost sight of what was truly important to you other than your degree and med school, and that’s completely okay. you’re human - shit happens. you live and you learn. you lost sight of the person you loved because you were starting to lose yourself, but you’ve found your way back. it’ll all work itself out. eventually.” you threw yourself into your mother's arms, holding on to her for dear life.

as your father walked back into the living room (trying his hardest to act as if he hadn't heard the entirety of your conversation) he couldn’t help but smile at the scene in front of him. happy you were finally allowing yourself to grieve with the loss of trevor and yours relationship, and that you were trusting your mother with this information. finally trusting in yourself to come to terms with the fact you needed and wanted trevor in your life because you loved him deeply. he kissed the top of both yours and your mother’s head before taking his rightful seat again. just in time for the sound of a phone ringing to interrupt the tender moment being shared.

confused you pulled away from your mother's loving arms and fished your phone from the front pocket of your sweatshirt. confusion etched deeper in your face as the number popped up with a small caller id under it. licking your lips you looked at both of your parents as your heart started to race inside your chest, “it’s the police department.”

officer collins was nice enough to remove trevor’s handcuffs in order to make the call. so with shaky hands, trevor reached forward to the landline in a dimly light hallway. taking a deep breath in, he closed his eyes and punched in your phone number from memory. he could feel the tears prick at his waterline as he waited for you to pick up the phone. the dial tone rang loud in his ears until finally, it didn’t. and for the first time in three years, he heard the sound of your breathing. the silence was deafening as he waited for you to speak, desperate to hear your voice. then there it was: “hello?”

after watching your parents shrug their shoulders you made the split decision to answer the call. you were met with the sound of breathing on the other line, mind racing as to who could possibly be calling you from the police station at this time of night. when the person on the other end of the line hadn’t spoken you took it upon yourself to. “hello?” you asked with uncertainty in your voice, and just by the sound of their sigh of relief you knew who it was instantly. “t-trevor?” it came out it in a choked back whisper, your mind not able to process the fact he was most likely in jail. “what, why are you calling me from the police station?”

he could hear the panic in your voice through the phone, green eyes closing so he could picture what you looked like right now. the look of fear on your face from getting a call from an unknown number and it’s him. “uh, h-hi, y/n/n,” he slurred, tears slipping out of his closed eyes because he couldn’t believe it. you were on the phone with him. you were talking to him. this was real.

this was real. for both of you. trevor was in the police station. he’d been arrested and he had chosen to call you.

your heart dropped into your stomach as you felt anger rise through your body, yet you weren’t quite sure why. maybe it was because he had been arrested. maybe it was because the first time you’d heard from him in years was because he was calling you to come and bail him out. but at the same time, you tried to remain calm. preparing yourself for whatever it was that he was about to tell you. “so um, i’m sure you’re probably wondering what i’m doing calling you from the police station’s number.” he tried to force out a laugh, but next to nothing came out. and you could tell he was nervously waiting for your reaction.

“i mean it’s not every day you get a call from your ex-boyfriend.” your words had cut him deep. ‘ex-boyfriend’. he bit his lip in order to prevent a whimper from escaping his mouth at the dreaded word. “but then again, it isn’t every day you get a call from your ex-boyfriend who’s in jail, so yeah trev, i am wondering why you're calling me from the police station.” while your words had seemed bitter, your tone was nothing but soothing to him. he could tell you were currently trying to hold yourself together from the number of mixed emotions that had to have been coursing through your body. he also knew you meant no harm because you had called him ‘trev’. if you had called him anything other than that he knew you were over this. over him. over the phone call. over being his lifeline still after all this time. so with a small hopeful smile on his face, he started to make his case to you.

squeezing your mother’s hand you braced for the explanation you were bound to hear. mind racing, and emotions swirling around like a tornado in your body. “i saw you,” he whispered, voice breaking as he spoke. you didn’t need to hear what he said next to know he saw you at the stoplight with charlie, moments before your desaster of a date ended. “at the lights with charlie fucking henderson of all people!” that caused your blood to begin boiling. while his opinion of charlie was accurate, it still irked you that he had to make it known he disapproved. you weren’t his anymore. you didn’t owe him any reasoning on why you went out with charlie. on why you were allowing yourself to settle for him when all you wanted was trevor, but you couldn’t tell him that. you couldn’t allow yourself to give him that satisfaction when he was rotting in a jail cell with the other drunks that had been brought in for the night. “and it just, it ruined me, y/n/n. it ruins me, destroies me, sending me into a crippling to depression to see you when i come home every summer. to see you happy, without me. to see that our relationship must have meant nothing for you to just let me go like that. without a fucking reason as to why!” you didn’t know how much more you could take of his drunken ramblings, because hearing the truth come from his lips was something you never wanted to hear. you knew you hurt him, ripped his heart out and stabbed him in the back, but you never wanted to hear him say that. to hear what it felt like for him to come home and see you. “because i still love you, y/n/n. i love you more than anything in this world. so much so that i got into a bar fight with charlie to defend you against everything him and his friends were saying about you. so much that i’m calling you from jail. i love you so much that i can’t be in bedford anymore, and if i am here i have to drink away any and all thoughts of you because i promised to forget you when you broke up with me.”

trevor sat on the other end of the line, slumping against the white paint cracked walls. awaiting an answer from you after he had just poured his heart and soul out to you. he could hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears. felt the watchful eyes of officer collins, and now officer shandy, watching and listening to what could either break his heart all over again, or bring it back to life.

“y/n?” he whispered out into your ear. “are you - are you still there?” the worry in his voice was evident, he thought he was about to lose you all over again, and you could feel yourself slipping away from him once more. closing your eyes you fought with the tears, your head, and your heart as you pulled the phone away from your ear. “i’m sorry, i know that it’s a lot to take in. and you didn’t ask for any of this. or want any part of me any-” his voice was cut off by the sound the sound the dial tone. your finger having pressed the red button to end his drunken pleas with you. every thought you had about wanting to with him still tonight fluttering out the window, because a villain isn’t supposed to show remorse to those they hurt, they just keep hurting them.

the hockey player jumped up from his seated position as the dial tone filled his ears again. “no! no, no, no, no, no. y/n, baby please. please!” he all but screamed into the phone that no longer had a caller on it. officer collins and shandy both began moving closer to him, seeing this as a potential threat to himself. “fuck!” he all but raged as he slammed the black plastic back into its holder. then crumpling down into the floor. head between his knees as he sobbed to himself over losing you once again.

“y/n, why did you hang up on him,” your mother exclaimed. shocked that you had done what you just had after pouring your heart and soul out to her about how you still loved the twenty-two-year-old, and wanted to be with him again. “what about what you told me tonight? he still loves you!”

shaking your head you pushed yourself off the couch, reaching down for the new bottle of wine before making your way to the stairs. “and i love him,” you finally whispered out loud to both your parents. your e/c eyes stayed glued to the stairs as you tried to work yourself off the ledge you found your self towering on. “but i can’t love him when he’s like this, so i have to be the bad guy, because i can’t save him from himself this time.” you knew it was the truth, but still you couldn’t help but feel like you were lying to yourself. you were the one who caused this pain, this anguish for trevor, and it was only you who could save him from it. but you refused. so you walked up to your room, locking yourself in there with the full bottle of wine, taking a page out of trevor’s book and trying to drink any thought of him away.

officer collins crouched down in front of trevor and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “look kid, i’m really sorry she hung up on you,” he started to say with a sullen look on his face, “it wasn’t right of her to do that. not when you clearly still need her in your life, but unfortunately there’s nothing else we can do. we gotta put you in the holding cell until henderson finishes up, and then this will all go away. i promise. nobody will ever know.”

trevor’s head shot up to look at the middle aged man leaning over him. his head shaking vigorously to disagree with what he was saying. in an instant he was resting on his knees, clutching his hands together as he stared up at him. “i beg you, sir, just let me call.” his voice was filled with a pleading note as he stared up at officer collins, praying he could get through to him. “i’ll give you my blood alcohol, i’ll rot with all the burnouts in the cell,” he began to list while tears clung to his eyelashes. “i’ll change my faith, and and i’ll praise the flag!” he exclaimed, “let’s wait, i swear she’ll call me back.”

the oldest man in the hallway let out a sad sigh before glancing to his partner, then back down at trevor. “son, are you a danger to yourself?” he hated asking that question, but trevor was starting to scare him. he needed to know how concerned he should be regarding this situation.

anger flashed through trevor’s green eyes after the question was asked, and as it hung in the silence of the hallway he pushed himself up off the floor. shrugging away officer collins hands he scoffed, “fuck that, sir, just let me call.” the pleading look on his face was slowly starting to slip away into something almost nobody could read. “i’ll give you my blood alcohol. i’ll rot with all the burnouts in the cell. change my faith, and i’ll kiss the badge. please, let’s wait. i swear she’ll call me back.” this time he reached out forward and grabbed officer collins hands, begging with everything he had left in him. trying his hardest to flash what he considered his puppy dog eyes, and appeal to this mans better nature.

officer shandy stepped in next, his hand reaching for trevor’s shoulders and bringing his attention fully to him. trevor’s green eyes bored into his blue ones, and he could feel himself begin to crack under the honest weight the officers held. his charming demeanor falling as the questions was asked:

“son, why do you do this to yourself?”

it hung in the air as trevor’s shoulders sagged, showing that he was defeated. he was only twenty-two after all. twenty-two but still in love with a woman who didn’t want him anymore, and he just couldn’t let go of you. silently he thought to himself, about there possibly being another reason as to why he allowed this all to happen besides him still being in love with you. that maybe he feared something more than having lost you. “i’m not proud of all the punches that i’ve thrown,” trevor mumbled out into the silence, to be heard by the awaiting ears of the officers. “in the name of someone i no longer know.” a small smile cracked his face when he said that. thinking about you, what your voice sounded like, picturing that scared look on your face when you realized he was calling your from a police station. “for the shame of being young, drunk, and alone,” he finished while looking between the two. “but i would die for her, y/n, even if i don’t know her anymore.”

the three remained quiet for an unknown amount of time. it had seemed fitting to just sit there in a silence while they all tried to understand the full events of the night. their peaceful silence was broken by the wooden double doors being pushed open to what looked like on of the newer officers. “officer shandy, officer collins, sir, mr henderson his here and has requested the dropping of charges against trevor zegras, and for this all to go away,” he explained before slowly slipping back inside the lobby of the police station. trevor’s green eyes turned to stare at officer collins, waiting for some sort of directions.

“i told you it would work itself out kid, maybe there’s some hope after all for you,” he reasoned while beginning to lead trevor back into the main area. instead of taking a seat at officer collins desk trevor was brought face to face with the chain linked fence of the holding cell, only there was nobody else in there and it would be just him tonight. “this is just until somebody has time to drop you off at home, we’ve gotta file out this paperwork before we can.”

nodding his head trevor walked into the cell before slumping down against the bench. “i guess i shouldn’t have wasted my call on somebody who was just going to hang up on me, huh?” he tried to joke, only it didn’t help him like he thought it would. office collins gave him a tight lipped smile before turning on his heels and walking back to his desk. leaving trevor to slowly let his eyes close as he tried to block out everything regarding the events of tonight, hoping it would being him some sort of comfort if he did so.

as the sun disappeared, and the moon slowly got higher in the sky griffin, as well as the entire zegras household, was beginning to wonder just what had happened to trevor. “has anybody seen trevor?” julie asked, there being just a touch of panic in her voice. “he never came home after getting the groceries.” both ava and griffin shrugged their shoulders not having a clue as to where their brother went, while gary looked up from his newspaper bewildered by his wifes previous statement. griffin caught ava’s gaze from above his phone as they shared a look of ‘oh maybe we should be good siblings and go look for him’ before either of them got out of their seats and one inched towards the front door, while the other towards the stairs.

“hey mom, i’m gonna go to nico’s and catch up with him. don’t wait up,” griffin all but yelled before he slipped out of the house without waiting for a reply. once in the safety of his car he opened his phone to the messages with his little sister praying that she had somewhat figured out trevor’s location.

god trevor’s actually sofucking stupid. he’s at the police station. good lucksoldier

groaning griffin threw his head back against the headrest, of course trevor was at the police station. it was only a matter of time until his drinking got him stuck in there. shooting ava a quick text he threw his phone down and sped out of their drive way towards the police station, only slightly worried about what trevor was waiting for him when he got there.

there sound of a soft knock on your door startled you mid swig of wine, your body jolting forward enough to cause the red liquid to swirl around in the glass bottle. when the knock was heard again you set the bottle down and padded across the hardwood floor to your bedroom door. taking a deep breath you steadied yourself before reaching towards the silver handle, praying only slightly that when you opened the door it would be trevor standing there to greet you. to explain to you how all of this was just a misunderstanding, and it was all going to work out for the better. only when you pulled the door open you were met with your father’s sullen face, his hands clasped in front of him. “i know you’ve already talked enough about this issue tonight, sweetheart,” he started, his tone soft yet firm. “and there’s probably next to nothing left to say, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are the key to this solution, whether you like it or not, and i think it’s time you own up to it.” your eyes fell downcast as you took in his words, knowing that what he said held nothing but undeniable truth. shuffling you moved out of the doorway enough for your father to walk through before closing the door behind him. he led the way over to your bed, sitting himself on the edge, waiting for you to make the next move.

taking a deep breath you sat down next to him, eyes glancing towards the bottle before you looked down at your hands. “if i’m the solution, where do i start?”

it had seemed as if hours had passed by in the time trevor had closed his eyes until he heard yelling coming from every direction. only when he opened his eyes and found a clock he realized it had only been nearly twenty minutes. groaning he slammed his head back against the wall, green eyes glancing around the cell to see there was two new additions, nate and matt. trevor offered an awkward half wave to the two boys, which they both returned. “‘m sorry i beat you guys up,” he then apologized with sincerity in his voice. “y/n, she just, she means a lot to me. i still really love her, you know?”

matt couldn’t believe what he had just heard from trevor zegras mouth: an apology. one that definitely wasn’t needed seeing as the three of them were purposefully trying to get a rise out of the poor guy. pushing him to see how far he would get before seeing red. glancing over towards nate, matt made the decision to speak next. “no apology needed man, i mean we said some fucked up shit,” he addmitted, finally starting to not fear having an opinion that was different from charlie’s. “none of which was true by the way. we all know y/n isn’t boring, or her dreams don’t suck. charlie’s just jealous that she’s actually going to do something with her life and he’s going to be living off his trustfund.”

laughter erupted from the three men in the cell, all having agreed that charlie had no future. as the laughter began to die down nate sighed before being to speak next, “look man, we’re the ones who should be sorry. you knew your limit and when to stop, but we just helped hold you down as charlie tried to beat the shit out of you. we deserved everything we got tonight.”

trevor just barely nodded his head to agree with them both, eyes once against scanning the police station trying to find charlie. his curiosity suddenly getting the better of him and wondering why he wasn’t currently in the cell with them. “so, where is charles?” he then asked, the question hanging in the air, pushing down against his chest. because depending on what was said his whole future could be at stake. sure officer collins and shandy said mr. henderson was going to drop the charges, but that didn’t mean charlie would still try something to throw trevor under the bus. he could feel his anxiety rise because of the stituation at hand once more, being to bite his nails while he waited for an answer.

griffin took his time while driving to the police station. mostly because he was nervous to see his big brother behind bars, but partly because he wanted trevor to think nobody was coming to help him. of course griffin knew how self destructive trevor had gotten since your break up, the entire family did, but griffin was the only one who knew how bad it had gotten. he also knew you were still reeling in different feelings towards the nhl center, as he and ava were both still in contact with you. sure, he may have resented you a little bit for what you did up and out of the blue to trevor, but he also knew you must have had a reason to do so, so he didn’t judge. that much. that’s why he had tried countless times to break his brother’s harmful habits, knowing trevor had no chance to win you back if he kept falling down this path he was currently on. that’s why he took the twenty minute route to a destination that was only five minutes away, he wanted this time in that cell to mean something to trevor. he wanted him to reflect on himself, his actions, and how much he still truly loved you, because if he loved you the way he says he does, he’d stop the drinking with or without you. he just hadn’t come to that self discovery yet.

your father reached over and grabbed your hands, “start by forgiving yourself, y/n.” his e/c eyes that matched your own bored into the side of your head, waiting for you to turn and meet his gaze. willing you to do so, even though it was in vain. your eyes remained rooted forward, staring at your now intertwined hands. “you’re guilt ridden, and your bones are heavy with the grief of the love you once had. forgive yourself for letting it go, as your mother said earlier, you’re only human. forgive yourself, then you can forgive trevor. then you can call him.”

“charlie’s, uh, he’s in the process of having a screaming match with his father in the chief’s office,” matt explained with a crooked smile. “his dad is pissed he started something. again. but otherwise everything’s all good and has been taken care of. matt and i are just waiting for our rides home, what about you, z?”

the question stuck with trevor, ‘what about you, z?’ well he didn’t know what about him. he wasted his phone call on you, you hung up on him, and now he was stuck in the cell until and officer could drive him home. god what a shit show that was going to be. shrugging his shoulders he tried to appear as if he was coming off as his normal easygoing self. “officer collins is going to drive me home, nobody answered when i called home.”

sighing griffin killed the engine of his car and forced himself up and out of his car. he knew it was wrong to let his big brother sit and rot in there as long as he did, but it felt good doing it. he kept his eyes down while walking through the front door, making his way right to the front desk. leaning over it he waited for either an officer or receptionist to come and speak to him about what he was doing here. he waited a good five minutes, slowly taking in his surroundings and trying to locate his brother, but that was proved to be invain as he couldn’t the eldest zegras sibling anywhere. “hi honey, i hope you weren’t waiting too long,” a sweet older woman smiled while sitting back in her seat. “now, what can i do for you?”

tears stung your eyes as you looked over at your father, “how is it possible to forgive myself when all i’ve been is a horrible person in the last three years?”

“i’m here to pick up trevor zegras.”

trevor’s head lulled backwards as he listened to both matt and nate talk back and forth about something he had lost interest in minutes ago. eyes closing as he tried to find some sort of peace, to try and calm his murky mind. he tried to not think of you and the events that got him to this point in his life, but he couldn’t help but focus on them. starting to feel ashamed of causing himself nothing but pain from drinking every time he came home to bedford. ashamed that he was alone. ashamed he had even the slightest hope you had still wanted him, but now he knew you surely wouldn’t want him after his drunken call tonight. he didn’t even want him right now. he let out a quiet groan to himself in order to not disturb nate and matt’s rambling discussion, wishing there was a way he could separate himself as a person. so he could be the person he was before your relationship again instead of the drunken shell of a man he used to be. and then, something happened that he hadn't expected. “mr. zegras, your ride is here.” his green eyes shot open, frantically looking around for a figure that somewhat resembles you, only he couldn’t see one. officer collins was staring back at him as the cell door opened for his release. “they’re waiting for you in the lobby where you can collect your personal belongings.”

without another word trevor scrambled to his feet and padded slowly towards the open cell, glancing back to give the two other boys a half wave as a forced goodbye before walking out. silently he followed behind the officer who had shown him nothing but kindness, through the station, taking mental notes of every person he passed praying that he would be met with your face at some point. you had to be here. you had to have changed your mind and decided to come and pick him up, otherwise how was he getting released? biting his lip he began to fidget with his fingers as officer collins opened the door to the front lobby, and what he thought would be his breath of relief turned into his worst nightmare as he came face-to-face with his younger brother. “you’re not y/n,” he breathed, voice raked with nothing but sadness. “how did - griffin?” he then asked, completely bewildered by his younger brothers presence. he knew he should’ve been grateful. he no longer had to wait out an unnnecassary stay in the prison cell, but he couldn't help the way his heartached inside his chest while meeting his brothers stoic expression as tears began to slid down his sunskissed cheeks. “y/n, she didn’t come. i thought-” he cut himself off by clearing his throat and reaching up to wipe away the tears before they fell faster than he could stop. “nevermind, it - it doesn’t matter. let’s go home griff.” and just like that he tried his hardest to bottle up his emotions once again. mind racing to think of the next time he could get his hands on a case of beer.

m/n l/n sat quietly outside of your closed bedroom door. ear pressed against the white wood as she silently cried to herself over the heartbreak and turmoil her only child was going through. the wooden door had muffled the sounds of your father’s quiet voice, but she could still hear the combination of guilt and melancholy that was spoken with every word as he tried to reassure you that you were worthy of self forgiveness. that you weren’t the horrible person you had thought you were. she also knew that while he words were directed at you, he was speaking to himself as well. because deep down she knew your father still held guilt for putting their relationship on pause, and thought because of his actions when he was your age, this was the world’s karma by creating a similar situation with his daughter. your mother could never truly understand the pain the both of you felt, which is why she sat outside your bedroom praying to herself that you would take your father’s advice to forgive yourself. praying that after all this time he would finally forgive himself.

“y/n,” your dad whispered with a broken smile, “i’m going to be completley honest with you sweetheart. while i don’t believe you’ve been a horrible person these past three years, i can’t give you the answers that you’re looking for.” your bloodshot e/c eyes snapped over to him within seconds. he squeezed your hands lovingly before he pulled his e/c away from your own. “i still haven’t figured out how to forgive myself for leaving your mother all those years ago. i wish i could help you the way that you need me now, but i - i don’t have the answers. because i don’t think-” he let out a solemn sigh before looking back over at you with tears in his own eyes. “i don’t think we would’ve found our way back to each other if it weren’t for that night in the emergency room. every time i tried to work up the courage to call her, i panicked. i wouldn’t allow myself to stop dwelling on the pain that i had caused her for that year apart from each other. the exact same thing you’re doing by not allowing trevor back into your live - because you can’t stop thinking about the pain you caused him. but sweetheart,” he explained with wisdom only a father would have, “this chance you have to let him back into your life? it may not come again, so it’s up to you to decide what you want to do with it before it’s too late. and you’ll know, deep down in that giant heart of yours, whether you love him enough to forgive yourself, or if you’re going to hold one mistake over your head for the rest of your life as it passes you by.”

you forced a laugh as you stared over at him and processed his tough love words. “if i knew you weren’t right i would be so mad at you right now, dad,” you confessed as you dropped your head against his shoulder. his own finding it’s place on top of yours. there was a long beat of silence before you decided to speak again. “i’m happy you were in the er that night, dad. you and mom are my idolization of love, and i just, if it hadn’t worked out for the two of you i wouldn’t have anything to believe in.”

this time a sad chuckle passed by his lips before he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, “kid, if it didn’t work out for your mom and me, my greatest blessing in life wouldn’t be sitting right here next to me.”

the silence was louder than any music that girffin could’ve been chosen to play. trevor was turned to face away from his younger brother, head pressed against the glass window once again. his sliding down against it while he tried to hide his face. “so,” griffin finally worked the courage to speak, “do you want to tell me what happened that you ended up in prison and were expecting y/n to pick you up?”

taking a breath trevor turned to face his fears which were currently in the form of explaining his downfalls to his younger brother. “it’s a long story, griff,” he whispered, reaching up to wipe away his tears once again. “one we don’t have the time for, and i’m not ready to relive.”

scoffing griffin pulled the car over on the side of the road. “we have nothing but time, trevor!” he yelled, voice cracking as he did so. “now, i deserve an explanation as to why ava and i had to go and pick up the groceries from the middle of a parking lot. an explanation on why you ended up in prison! why you’re nose is broken, and your knuckles are beaten to shit. please, trevor, i’m your little brother, and i’m scared.” that’s when the tears started to fall down his own cheeks. “you’re scaring me. you’re scaring ava. mom, dad. so at the very least, i deserve an explanation. because three years ago you weren’t the only person who lost y/n. i lost her too. we all lost her. what we didn’t expect was losing you too.”

the silence was so loud that both trevor and griffin heard the sound of trevor’s heart shattering into the pit of his stomach.

“you’re right,” trevor cried while meeting his brother’s stare for the first time since getting in the car. “you guys lost y/n, just like i did, and you didn’t deserve to watch me fall apart as you have for the past three summers.” his mouth went dry as he thought of what he could possibly say next, and what his brother needed to hear in order to correct his mistakes. “but you have, and it isn’t fair. none of this is fair, because life - life like to fucking kick your ass. so i’ll tell you, but only you, griff. you can’t go running to tell ava, or mom, or dad. only you.”

the younger brother nodded his head instantly, forcing himself to stop crying to be strong for his brother. “start wherever, i’m listening, trev.”

taking a deep breath trevor steadied his nerves and started his story with the end. “i gave y/n’s name as my emergency call.”

----

taking a deep breath you could feel as your world began to spiral out once again like it had two nights prior. since you’d hung up on trevor, you had listened to your father’s advice and taken the past two days to think about things once more. to see them in a different light despite how much your head told you it was wrong, in your heart you knew it was time. so after listening to his voicemail one more time, you had made up your mind. it was second nature as you started to dial his phone number, not wasting time to find his nameless contact.

picking at your nails you waited anxiously as the dial tone played in your ears.

it went through once.

then twice.

finally, a third time before your call was connected.

and with a shaky breath, you breathed out his name for both you to hear. “trevor?”