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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 2 months

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Hi omg i absolutely love your work so much!! Literally had to turn on notifications just for you🩷 i wanted to request an enemies to lovers trope with ethan (but kinda slowburn) where he is really nice and shy/dorky with the rest of the group & rude to y/n specifically because he feels like thats the only way to get her attention. He walks in on her changing but leaves quickly due to embarrassment & a few days later just confesses during an argument and it ends in smut. Lots of angst & tension pls pls thank you so much🥲

Hiii! I hope you like it!

Holding on to You - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Ethan thinks he needs to be a jackass to get your attention. After months of dealing with his annoying ways, he confesses how he feels.

Contains: fluff, angst, use of pet names, mean!ethan, dry humping, riding, p in v sex. (If I missed anything, let me know!)

A/N: Apparently if I get stoned and listen to Twenty One Pilots, I write longer fics lmao. 3.7k words...jeez.

When Chad and Ethan needed a new roommate, and you hated yours, you decided to take Chad up on his offer for you to move in. Yeah, living with two boys wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Well, Chad wasn’t as bad as you thought he would be. Ethan on the other hand, loved to do things to piss you off.

As you stood at the sink doing your own dishes, Ethan walked by and dropped a bowl in the sink.

“Seriously?” you asked, looking over at him.

“What? You’re already doing dishes.”

Chad walked in the room before you could say anything else to Ethan. He smirked at you as Chad started to speak.

“Hey dude, you want to go with me to get the pizza for tonight?” he asked. You were having your friends over, and you were happy to have an interaction with someone that wasn’t a guy.

“Yeah,” Ethan said, sitting a cup in the sink, too.

“I’m not doing all your dishes, Ethan!” you yelled, as he and Chad made their way to the door.

He turned around to look at you again, flashing a smile before walking out.

The way Ethan acted was infuriating sometimes. He was completely different in the presence of everyone else, but when it was just the two of you, he was so rude.

When your friends started to arrive after Chad and Ethan got back, you were grabbing plates out of the cabinet when Ethan walked up behind you.

“Let me take these. I wouldn’t want all of them to get shattered,” he said, reaching over you and grabbing the stack. You huffed as he sat them down on the counter.

“I wouldn’t have broken them,” you mumbled, looking up at him.

“You just broke one last week!”

“Well, if you didn’t stack so many plates on the top shelf so only you’re giraffe-looking ass was able to reach them, maybe it wouldn’t have happened,” you snapped, grabbing the plates off the counter and carrying them out to the living room.

“Thank you,” Chad said as you sat the plates down.

“Yeah, thank you,” Ethan said as he followed you out, the sweetness in his voice making you want to gag.

As you all sat around eating, Tara brought up needing help for one of her classes.

“I can help you,” Ethan said, “I took that class already.”

“Let me guess, you had the highest grade in the class?” Mindy asked, already knowing the answer.

“I can’t help that I have a photographic memory,” he said, taking a bite of his food. “But seriously, if you need my help, let me know.”

You were quiet as you focused on your phone, trying to distract yourself from Ethan. You hated that he could be so nice to everyone else but was a total dick to you. It was disappointing because at one point, you thought he was sweet. The kindness and the fact that he was tall and very attractive was starting to draw you in, but then his personality just flipped one day.

“Why are you being so quiet?” Tara asked you, as you scrolled through your phone.

“I got a text from my ex earlier. Still an asshole,” you sighed, “But he’s been liking all my Instagram photos that he unliked when we broke up.”

“Don’t give him another chance, please,” Mindy begged, “He treats you like shit.”

Your cheeks started to turn pink as you sat there. You didn’t want to directly tell them that you were considering it, but the knowing look on Chad’s face confirmed that you were doing a bad job at hiding it.

“Seriously? He’s going to be in here trying to square up with me and Ethan, because he’s an insecure idiot,” Chad said, his tone full of disappointment, “You know he’s not good for you.”

Ethan was really invested in the conversation happening in front of him. He’d always kind of hoped that you’d just tell him you were interested in him. The type of guys you normally went after was the reason he was being a jerk, after all. He’s always wanted your attention.

“That’s my type though, Chad,” you sighed sarcastically as he shook his head.

“Yeah, but you could go after a sweet guy, like my boy Ethan over here,” he said, gesturing to the curly-haired boy that started to blush. “He’s a snack, right?”

“That didn’t work when you pitched it to the cute girl at the Halloween Party, and it’s not going to work now,” you giggled, happy that you were able to make a little dig at Ethan since he always says rude things to you.

“That wasn’t nice. I think you’re a snack,” Chad said to Ethan, as Tara started to laugh at their bromance.

“At least someone does,” Ethan said, glancing over to you and looking down at his lap.

“I’m not saying you’re not attractive, Ethan,” you sighed, feeling guilty for being so mean, “I guess you are a snack.”

“Oh, am I sensing a love connection here?” Chad said in a horrible fake-British accent.

“I didn’t say that.”

As everyone started to leave for the night, you went in your room to change into your pajama shorts and a big t-shirt.

Just as you took off your jeans, shirt, and bra, the door to your room opened.

“Hey, you left your…” You grabbed your shirt you were about to change into and quickly covered yourself with it as Ethan stood there. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

When he turned around and pulled the door shut behind him, your cheeks turned bright red. The guy that loves be an ass to you had just seen you in nothing but your panties. You sighed as you pulled your shirt and shorts on and walked out to get some water.

You jumped when you saw a shadowy figure in the dark kitchen as you turned the corner.

“It’s just me,” Chad said, as you flipped the light switch.

“You scared the shit out of me!” you said, as he stood there eating some of the cold, leftover pizza. “Why are you eating in the dark?”

“Why are you so jumpy? That’s how Ethan was a minute ago when he walked in here,” he said, chewing his food. “He sat your phone on the counter, by the way.”

“Maybe we’re jumpy because you’re lurking in a dark kitchen,” you said, grabbing your phone.

“You’re probably right. Well, good night.”

As he walked back to his room, you pulled a cup out of the cabinet, getting some water. You couldn’t stop thinking about how awkward it was going to be to see Ethan again, which will happen eventually because he shares your living space.

That didn’t happen for several days, though. He intentionally avoided you, only coming out of his room if you weren’t home, or you were in your own room. It was starting to bother you, because even if he made you feel like shit before he walked in on you, he at least talked to you, and it was significantly less awkward.

When you walked out to the living room, you saw Chad and Ethan sitting on the couch watching tv. You flopped down a few cushions away from them, looking at the screen.

“Star Wars, huh? I wouldn’t expect anything less from you two dorks,” you joked, as Chad scoffed.

“You know, I used to think you were cool,” he said, throwing one of the decorative pillows at you.

You threw it back at him, hitting Ethan in the process.

“Hey!” he yelled, grabbing the pillow that eventually landed on Chad and threw it back at you.

“You know what we need? Snacks,” Chad said, standing up. He grabbed the remote to pause the movie. “Ethan, Cheetos?” he asked as Ethan nodded. “Do you want anything?” he asked you, walking towards the kitchen. “No, I’m good.”

“Suit yourself. Maybe if your nice, Ethan will share his snacks.”

You laughed at his comment as you looked over to Ethan. He wasn’t saying anything, but you could feel the tension in the air. The only thing that came to your mind was that he was probably dying inside from not saying anything shitty to you for the last several days.

“What are you looking at?” he snapped, glancing over to you.

“There it is. I thought you were never going to be mean to me again.”

“Believe it or not, I don’t feel like I should have to speak to you,” he said, as Chad walked back in, completely missing Ethan’s comment. “Thanks, man,” he said, after Chad handed him the Cheetos.

He pressed play on the movie again, as you tried to get interested in it.

“That thing is kind of cute,” you said, pointing at the character.

“Jar Jar Binks is cute? That explains your taste in men,” Chad said, as Ethan started to laugh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, staring both of the boys down.

“He’s one of, if not THE, most hated Star Wars characters,” Ethan said, looking over to you. “Just like how every single guy you date is completely unlikable.”

“You don’t have to call me out like that,” you sighed, standing up to grab the blanket that was on back of the couch behind Ethan. “Can you sit up a little bit so I can grab this,” you said, tugging on the fluffy material.

“No, I’m comfortable like this,” he said, his tone playful because Chad was beside him.

“Please, I’m cold,” you whined, as he rolled his eyes and sat up.

You grabbed the blanket and snuggled back up in your spot. Ethan kept looking over to you, trying to be as discreet as possible about it. You caught his gaze, giving him a ‘What’ look, before looking back at the tv.

When the movie was over, Chad stood up. “I think I’m going to Tara’s. You guys want to come?”

“Yeah, like I want to be there while you try to put moves on my friend,” you said, as he shrugged.

“She’s cute. I can’t help it. Ethan, you coming?”

“I don’t want to be a third wheel,” he sighed, “I have stuff to work on anyway.”

“Okay, I’ll be back later,” Chad said, pulling his hoodie on.

When Chad left, Ethan got up to walk to his room.

“Hey,” you said, as he stopped and turned a little to look at you, “If you hate me so much, why did you agree to me moving in?”

“Because you can pay the rent,” he said, “Is this conversation over?”

“No, it’s not,” you stood up, as he fully turned back around. “What the fuck happened? Because you used to be nice to me. Then you started to treat me like every other guy ever has.”

“Yeah? What was that jab a few nights ago where you made me feel like a loser in front of our friends?” he started to raise his voice at you, “Because that wasn’t very nice.”

“I wanted you to know what it feels like, Ethan! You treat me like I’m stupid! You know how many times I’ve gone to my room and cried over some of the things you’ve said to me?” you were yelling at this point, the anger in his face softening as he started to feel guilty. “You used to be so sweet and caring, I miss that Ethan.”

“I couldn’t be like that anymore,” he sighed, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

You were still mad, yelling “Why?” at him as he started to walk towards you.

“Because you aren’t interested in nice guys!” he yelled back, “You always go after people that don’t treat you right, when all I’ve wanted to do this whole time is to be what you want!”

“You really are dumb,” you started to laugh, shaking your head. “You had a fucking chance, Ethan! I was interested in you. It was weird for me, and I wasn’t sure how to act because you aren’t my normal type, but that’s what made me like you!”

“How was I supposed to know that?” he said, sighing as he sat back down on the couch. “I just wanted to be what you wanted.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s something wrong with my normal ‘type’,” you laughed, sitting beside him. “In some sick, twisted way, I think it’s sweet that you wanted my attention so bad.”

“So, it worked?” he asked, cocking his head to look at you.

“I’m not going to validate you being an asshole. I want you to be yourself, that’s the Ethan I like,” you smiled at him.

“I’m sorry for making you cry before, I feel awful about that,” he said, the guilt present on his face.

“Just don’t do it again.”

“I totally ruined everything, didn’t I?” he asked, “I remember you mentioned your ex the other night. Are you going to give him another chance?”

You started to laugh as you looked at him, “Why would I do that? I mean, unless you aren’t interested in me, and this is just some sick joke.”

“No, I’m interested,” he said, leaning in to kiss you.

The kiss was sweet at first, exactly what you expected from Ethan. He started to pull away, but your head moved with his, not wanting the kiss to end. His lips kept moving as you felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip. You started to straddle him as you let him deepen the kiss, his tongue dancing against yours. When you felt him get hard through his jeans, you pulled away to look at him. His eyes were dazed as he watched you, craving more.

“You okay?” you asked, your breathing heavy.

“Yeah, can we do that again?”

You leaned back in, his hands going to your hips as you kissed him. His grip tightened a little as he started to squirm underneath of you, desperate to get a little friction. His lips moved to your jaw, before kissing down your neck. You whimpered when he found your sweet spot, his mouth attacking it so you’d keep making that sound.

Your hands were resting against the hem of his shirt, so you started to lift it to graze your fingers over his toned stomach. He followed your lead, his hands rubbing against your sides underneath your shirt. Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingertips brushed against your ribs, the tickling feeling surprising you.

“You tensed up, are you okay with this?” he mumbled against your neck.

“Mhm,” you said, removing one of your hands from his abs and putting it under his chin. He lifted his head so your mouths could connect again, as you started to grind against him.

He started to groan into the kiss, his hips moving against yours. “Do you want to do this,” you asked pulling away a little. He nodded his head as you slid off of him to unbutton his jeans.

“Wait, are we about to fuck on the couch?” he asked, as you nodded.

“Stand up,” you said, grabbing his hands. You grabbed your blanket from the other side of the couch, spreading it across the cushions. “Now we don’t have to feel guilty whenever we see Chad sitting on the couch.”

He smiled as you slid his jeans down over his hips. “I think you should let me take something off of you.”

You smiled at him as you stepped back a little, your hands at your sides as you waited for him to make a move. His hands went to your shirt, lifting it over your head. He felt like his eyes were going to pop out off his skull when he realized you didn’t have a bra on.

“You’re even more perfect up close,” he said, leaning down to take one of your nipples in his mouth.

“How many times have you thought about me almost naked since the other night?” you asked, your fingers tangling in his hair as he moved his mouth.

“So many times,” he said as he pulled away and moved to the other one. He groaned a little at the feeling of your fingers tugging on his curls.

His hands reached down to the top of your jeans, slowly unbuttoning them, and sliding them down your hips. You shimmied out of them as you slid your feet out.

As you both stood there, he leaned in to kiss you again, the tent in his boxers pressing against you.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked, as he nodded.

“Good idea,” he said, running down the hall to his room. You took the opportunity to take off your panties as you waited for him to come back. His jaw dropped when he came back and saw you standing there, completely nude. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“It can’t happen until these come off,” you said, grabbing the waistband of his boxers and sliding them down his thighs. After he stepped out of them, you pushed him back onto the couch.

He opened the condom as he sat there, rolling it on his hard cock. You really started to look at his size, nervous that it wouldn’t fit inside of you. His hands reached out, grabbing yours to pull you back on his lap. You kissed him as you grabbed his erection and lined it up with your soaked core.

“Oh fuck,” you whined, sinking down onto him. You sat in place as you kept kissing him, giving yourself enough time to adjust to the pressure as he stretched your walls.

When you started to roll your hips, his hands held onto them. “God, this feels amazing,” he said, loving the feeling of you around him. “You’re so tight.”

As you started to bounce on him, his thrusts started to meet yours. You kept making eye contact with him as his mouth started to fall open, faint moans slipping past his lips.

“That’s so hot,” you moaned, as he looked at you, trying to understand what you meant. “You can be as vocal as you want, baby. I love it.”

His heart melted as you called him ‘baby’, loving the sound of it. He started to get a little louder, letting you know exactly how good he was feeling.

“Rub my clit,” you whimpered, as your hands went to his shoulders to stabilize yourself so you could move faster.

His fingers started to rub circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves, the whines flying out of your mouth echoing off the walls. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

His fingers soon sped up as your moaning got higher. “Yes yes yes,” you cried out, that euphoric feeling so close to taking over your body, “I’m gonna cum.”

Your pussy started to flutter around him as your body started to tense up. He kept thrusting up into you, so close to his own orgasm. “Shit, gonna cum,” he groaned out, his hand leaving your clit and going back to your hip as he pounded into you. “Fuuuuck.”

He let out a long, shaky breath as he released into the condom. Your body relaxed against his as his hands rubbed your back. “You okay, baby?” he asked, as you nodded against his shoulder.

You laid there for a few more minutes, just enjoying his arms around you. “You want to take a shower?” you asked your fingers rubbing across his chest.

“I’d love to.”

When you were in the shower with Ethan, he was so sweet and caring. As he ran the soapy loofah across your back, you started to tear up a little. No one had ever done anything like this for you. Any other guy you’d showered with expected round two, but Ethan just wanted to take care of you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, as you stood under the water, the suds washing off your body.

“Stop. You keep saying stuff like that, you’re going to make me fall for you,” you laughed, as he laced his fingers with yours.

“You promise? Because you’re so amazing, and so perfect,” he said, and you knew he meant every word he was saying.

After the shower, you grabbed the blanket off the couch and threw it in the washer, before starting it. It would’ve made no sense to put the blanket down if you were just going to leave it there. Ethan walked up behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist. “You’re still naked.”

“You are, too,” you said, turning to face him. “I want to cuddle tonight. Your bed or mine?”

“Let’s grab your clothes and lay in mine. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about you in my bed,” he said, leaning in to kiss you.

“Okay, let’s go before Chad comes home and sees us naked,” you giggled, pulling away from him to run down the hall.

The next morning, you woke up with your head on Ethan’s chest and his arms wrapped around you. You sat up a little, your tired eyes connecting with his as he opened them.

“You look so cute first thing in the morning,” he said, sitting up too.

“I’m starving,” you said, running your hand through your hair as you attempted to tame the bed head.

“I could take you out to breakfast, if you’d like to.”

“I’d like that,” you said softly, leaning in to peck his lips.

You bumped into Chad in the hallway as you both walked out of Ethan’s room.

“Uh…okay,” he said, as you started to laugh. “Was I right about the love connection?” His fake accent was back as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumbled, walking into your room to change.

When your door closed, Chad whisper-yelled, “Yessss dude I’m so proud of you! You’ve been crushing on her forever.”

“It’s a long story, but I’m so excited that she’ll know how it feels to be treated right.”

Chad and Ethan started to do a little happy dance as you walked out of your room, both of them stopping as you smirked.

“You ready to go?” you asked, reaching out to grab Ethan’s hand.

“Yeah, I’m starving.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #scream

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suugarbabe · 6 months

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okokokok lorenzo berkshire idea??? your writing is so so good you def do him justice 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼☺️

enzo really likes you and all his friends know (maybe reader is in another house .. personally i’m hufflepuff but it really could be any) and they all flirt w you bc his friends know it gets to him and while reader is polite they don’t really encourage(??) the boys’ jokes/flirting bc they only have eyes for enzo too

possibly ending up together !!

i’m turning into such an enzo girly fr 😭💕💕💕 ilhsm

ugh, i have fallen in love with enzo so much, my little lanky broad boy 🥺 also, my requests are closed right now but I wrote it anyway because it was the last thing in my ask before i can get started on my other projects so no worries love x

You weren't really sure what happened, what changed and started making people act differently toward you, but it seemed like for the past two weeks a certain group of boys were paying you more attention.

So here you sat at lunch, deep in conversation with Luna when she suddenly cut you off, "You're being approached again." Her soft tone made it seem nonchalant, but when Mattheo Riddle sat down on the bench next to you the redness in your cheeks was apparent.

"Good morning, Princess. You look absolutely gorgeous this morning," Mattheo grabbed a piece of toast from the pile in front of him before picking up a knife to spread jam over it.

"Thank you, Mattheo, that's very kind of you," You cheeks burned further when he placed the toast on your plate for you before placing a few sausages on it as well.

Mattheo smiled at you, "I know you've got a big test this morning, you should eat well. Though I know you're brilliant so you don't really need any extra help."

You smiled shyly as you took a bite of toast. "Can I walk you to class, beautiful?" You nodded, not seeing a reason to tell him no. He was a gentleman, carrying your books for you, telling you to have a good class before seeing you off through the doorway.

During lunch you were approached again, however by a different member of the same friend group. Theo Nott approached you on your way to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Ciao, bella," Theo's eyes were definitely captivating. A light sea blue that often spoke all of the emotion he never let his face really tell.

"Hello, Theo," you smiled lightly as the tall boy slowed to your pace. "Could I sit with you at lunch?" His tone was gentle and sweet, so you nodded, giving him permission.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you two entered the hall. If you were more aware of your surroundings, you'd notice Theo chance a side glance toward his own house's table. However you were too in shock that a second boy, a second handsome boy, was not only paying you mind but also eating another meal with you.

Theo was a lot funnier than you expected, making you truly belly, head thrown back laugh. You were surprised that you got along with him, but your humor seemed to be so similar and building off each other.

He asked if he could walk you to your afternoon classes and you accepted. He kept his arms around your shoulders again, continuing to make you laugh the whole way.

After classes were finished and dinner was over with, you and Luna went to the library. You tried your hardest to focus but you couldn't take your mind off of everything the happened earlier today.

"Luna," you called your friends name causing her to look at you, "did you think today was weird?"

Luna smiled happily, "Every day is weird if you look hard enough." You huffed out a sigh, "No, Lunes, I mean, wasn't it weird how nice Mattheo and Theo were to me today. Like, why today? They see me all the time. What's different now. I didn't do my hair differently, what did I do to make them so nice to me?"

Luna sat for a moment, seemingly thinking about her answer, "Are you asking because you think they should be mean to you, or because you wished it was another one of their friends being so nice to you?"

You felt your face pinken for the umpteenth time that day, "Who do you mean? I don't know what you mean..." You knew you sounded unconvincing, but you didn't think you had made it that obvious.

"Lorenzo is actually sitting over there if you want to talk to him," Luna's statement gave you the answer you needed, and also made your stomach fill with butterflies.

But after today, you couldn't hold back any longer. When you got up you saw Enzo a few tables away, his back facing you. You left your belongings at the table with Luna, walking quickly but quietly to where the real boy of your desires resided.

You pulled out the chair across from Enzo, causing him to jump slightly at the sudden movement. When you sat your started immediately speaking, barely giving him time to even register that the girl of his year long affection was finally in front of him.

"Why didn't you come up to me today?" Your question kind of stunned him, Enzo continuing to look at you with a dumbfounded expression.

You let out an exasperated sigh, "Why were two of your closest friends so nice to me today, why did they make me breakfast and walk me to class and put their arms around me?"

The more you spoke of his friends doing, the tighter Enzo's grip was on his quill, tighter and tighter until it finally snapped in his grasp. You let out a small gasp.

"I-I'm sorry. They were doing it to upset me. T-to make me, man up, as they put it," Enzo was playing with the two pieces of his quill, doing anything and everything but looking at you.

You reached across the table, doing your best to cover both his large hands with one of your smaller ones to stop the action. Enzo looked up, meeting your gaze, "Why were they trying to upset you, Enzo?"

Still looking you in the eyes, Enzo took a deep breath, "Well, because I, erm, I fancy you, Y/n. Have for some time. But you're just...Merlin, you're so pretty and whenever I get near you I forget how to speak properly and I lose my train of thought."

You looked at him with a goofy grin, "You think I'm pretty? You...fancy me?"

Enzo mirrored your smile, "Well, yeah. How could I not?" He laced his fingers with yours now.

"Well, then I guess their juvenile plan worked," you traced the top of Enzo's hand with your thumb. When he tilted his head in slight confusion, you gave him a further explanation, "I fancy you too, silly."

Enzo's face made a small 'o' before a huge grin broke over his face, "Do you think that, erm, may then, ehm, you would like to go to Hogsmead with me this weekend?"

You nodded enthusiastically, "I would love to."

"Great, wonderful, fantastic. Okay well, erm, I'm going to, just, go tell the guys if that's okay?" He stood abruptly, making his chair squeak slightly and a few other students look your way.

He was much taller than you now, him standing and you sitting. You had to crane your neck to look up at him properly but you smiled, nodding your head to tell him it was okay to tell his friends.

"Okay, well I guess I'll see you tomorrow? Breakfast together?" he asked, you nodded again, then Enzo did something neither of you expected him to do. He leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You knew your face turned red instantly, Enzo's turning a similar shade. As he walked out of the library, you made your way back to your friend.

"So are you and Enzo accompanying Blaise and I these weekend?" Luna asked without looking up from her studies.

"Yeah, yeah we are," you smiled to yourself, still unable to get your work done, but now for a perfectly acceptable reason.

#enzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire fluff #enzo berkshire x y/n #enzo berkshire x reader

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ivystoryweaver · 11 months

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With You part 4

<- prev next -> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: The truth is out. Will you see Jake again? Is Moon Knight back in business?

Pairings: Jake Lockley x reader, (Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader). Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings/notables: Angst, comfort, references to alcoholism and recovery, cursing, a little bit of voice-raising I guess, some arguing, some touching/grabbing but no one is getting hurt i promise. Let me know if I missed a warning. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Dividers by saradika

PREVIOUSLY, on “With You”...

The two of you held one another in the middle of your drafty little kitchen, the shared answers between you only raising more questions.

“I think you should talk to Steven,” you suggested gently, “if you feel ready.”

Resting his forehead against yours, (Marc) rubbed your back soothingly. “Yeah. And maybe...maybe Jake too.”

It occurred to you, over the next two nights, that perhaps you were a heavy sleeper.

Marc and Steven had a little heart-to-heart about “that bloody stupid pigeon” - Steven’s words, obviously. Steven made it to class and to his university library shifts. Marc’s two years of hard work and sobriety paid off, because he was now equipped with a wonderful support system - you, Steven, a close friend of his, and he even called his old sponsor.

Then he attended a meeting (his idea). It was also his idea for Steven to keep his normal schedule. Marc felt guilty enough for getting Steven fired from the museum those years ago. (That, plus all the secrets.) So he changed his mind about hiding out in the flat with you. Routine was key. Routine and communication.

You were so proud of your guys, but there were still a couple of glaring issues: Jake and the bloody stupid pigeon.

Three nights after you first met Jake, you were determined to talk to him again. Marc had tried, Steven had tried, but Jake was used to operating completely alone. You got the feeling that this alter rarely did one damn thing he didn’t want to do.

So you set three of the loudest, most blaring alarm sounds to go off on your phone - one at 2am, 3am and 4. You warned Marc and Steven, of course. In the event that Jake fell asleep, one of them would most likely wake up. Or Jake might not even front that night.

But in case he did, you wanted to be awake for it. The alarm wasn’t for him anyway. It was because you had apparently slept through Jake’s entire existence, and you would never get to know him if things went on this way. You had to try.

So, tonight you made the effort to sleep in actual pajamas - black satin ones - a gift from Steven, instead of one of Marc’s comfy undershirts. The outfit wasn’t particularly revealing - you weren’t trying to seduce anyone, you just wanted to look a little more presentable than the worried, frantic mess from the first night you met Jake.

Exhaustion overtook you easily and you did fall into a deep sleep, only to be jolted awake by your blaring 2am alarm, which scared the shit out of you. This could possibly be your worst idea ever. But you quickly realized, while trying to calm the hammering of your heart, that your fiancé was not in bed with you.

Sitting up and pushing off the bed, you trudged to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face before checking the apartment for signs of life. Nothing.

So you waited.

You were alllmost back to sleep when he arrived - through the damn window, again.

Sitting up, you flipped on the bedside lamp, just as he pulled his flat cap from his head and raked his fingers through his lustrous, chocolate waves. Sporting what you were starting to believe was his signature look - this alter carried himself with a self-assurance you had never seen from your fiancé.

His expensive but worn leather jacket stopped at his waist, meeting well-fitting, sleek black pants. The same crisp, white shirt and dark tie, along with black, leather driving gloves completed his style. These weren’t clothes off a rack - they were tailored to fit him perfectly. He had chosen his look for a purpose...you assumed.

“Jake?” you softly greeted, easing off the bed.

Warm brown eyes stared at you, flashing as if momentarily caught off guard, before he pulled at the fingers of his gloves, just like he had done the first night.

“Go back to bed, cariño,” he implored, his voice rich, alluring, and much deeper than Steven’s. “It’s late, you should sleep,” he added, forcing himself to look away from the black satin draping itself over your body.

“I don’t respond well to orders,” you nonchalantly replied, easing toward him. “I was waiting for you.”

Clenching both of his removed gloves in one hand, he stopped and turned to glare at you. “Why?”

“Why not?” you shrugged. “It’s the middle of the night. I was worried.”

He scoffed. Dropping his gloves, he peeled off his leather jacket, turning his back to you. “Well, don’t. I can take care of myself.”

“Apparently not,” you shot back, reaching down to gather his discarded hat, gloves and jacket, domestically picking up after him, as if it were completely natural to you. “Not since Marc woke up in an alley the other night, in the Moon Knight suit.”

Jake was not sure what was more infuriating at the moment: you touching his shit, or you running interference for Marc.

“I get it - can’t let anything upset Marc,” he growled, jerking his clothing out of your arms, a little more dramatically than he intended. You didn’t even flinch. “Believe me, muñeca(o), I’ve been dealing with him my whole life.”

You rolled your eyes, bristling in Marc’s defense. “Okay, first of all, I am not your doll.” You matched his glare with your hands on your hips, “and secondly, you can fuck right off.”

“Happily,” he sarcastically agreed. “You’re the one who ambushed me.”

True. You were in rare form tonight. However...

“Oh. I didn’t realize walking around my own bedroom was considered an ambush,” you fired back. “I was worried about you, Jake!”

“You were worried about him,” he sneered, dropping the pile of clothes onto the bed. “And I get that. You two are getting married, or whatever. Just let me do my job in peace.”

“And what is your job, exactly? Being Khonshu’s slave? Almost getting yourself killed?”

Dragging a hand down his face, he groaned.

“I fucked up, okay? It’s never happened before.” Angrily jerking off his tie, he silently cursed himself for coming in the window again, without making sure you were asleep. Although part of him knew, deep down, that he was dying to see you. And now this. Now you knew what had happened to Marc, that night, in the alley.

“Jake, I can’t control what you do,” you admitted, your voice softening. You rarely ever raised your voice, let alone argued like this with Marc or Steven. But Jake just got under your skin. The heat in your cheeks and the heaving of your chest was definitely all worry. Nothing else, not at all...right?

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do,” you started again, boldly reaching for the tie clenched in his strong fist, which he held tightly to. “Your choices are yours. I respect that.”

He waited for a moment. “But?” He prodded.

“But,” you added, swallowing hard, “You could have seriously been hurt. Khonshu is not obviously not protecting you. He doesn’t care what happens to you.”

“No one cares what happens to me,” he snapped, jerking away from you, tossing his tie carelessly. “That’s how it works. I protect them. That’s my job. That’s my only job.”

“Bullshit,” you challenged, following him closely. “I care what happens to you, Jake. I care!” Reaching out, you desperately took hold of his forearm. “I’ve been waiting three nights in a row to see you again. I set my alarm just to wake up and see you. I’m yelling at you, Jake, and I never yell, ever. You’re driving me crazy!”

“Is that right?” He lowly growled, grabbing your arm - the one connected to him - and walking you back toward the wall. If you wanted his attention, you damn sure had it now. “You’ve known me for three days and I’m driving you crazy?”

All the air rushed out of you as one grip became two. Jake grasped your shoulders and pressed your back up against the wall, bending his knees slightly to descend to your height. “I’ve been sleeping next to you for years, mi amor. So believe me when I say that I know how you feel.”

“Jake, I...” you struggled to breathe normally as his dark eyes burned into yours, the grip of his fingers unyielding, yet somehow tender. “I didn’t know,” you finally uttered. “I didn’t know you were there, all this time. We don’t even know each other.”

“I do know you,” he confessed, his voice softening as his thick fingers loosened their grip. “I know you. Marc and Steven too. So I can protect you.”

“But who will protect you?” you whispered, placing your palms on his chest to brace yourself, the heat of his firm body seeping through his dress shirt.

His searing gaze faltered, eyes dropping, his jaw clenching in determination. “Doesn’t matter. I have to do this for them. You have no idea how many enemies Marc has. Nothing else can happen to him.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him, your voice softening. “Doesn’t being an avatar make more enemies? Marc was trying to leave all that behind.”

Shaking his head, Jake turned his face away, sighing loudly. Why was he even doing this with you? As foreign as a personal conversation felt to him, he couldn’t deny how good it felt to be looked after - to be worried about, to be touched.

“He can’t - leave it behind. It’s not safe,” Jake finally explained, his head still turned to the side, avoiding your pleading gaze. “We’re not safe without Khonshu.”

You wanted to protest, but in all honestly, how would you know?

“Jake,” you whispered, pushing your fingers up the definition of his chest, over the length of his neck to trace the sharp edge of his jaw. God, he was beautiful. So like the men you loved, yet completely his own, complicated person. You knew next to nothing about him. He could have his own life, his own family - someone of his own to come home to.

...but why, then, had he spent years sleeping next to you? And why were you drawn to him like this - following him, touching him, shouting...your emotions wild and unpredictable?

“Jake,” you began again, your breath faltering as his eyes met yours.

He couldn’t take it - being this close to you. “What?” he rasped, his voice softly betraying the stern pinch of his dark eyebrows. “What do you want from me?”

Releasing your shoulders, finally, he took hold of your hips, pulling you flush against his chest. “Tell me, cariño,” he whispered darkly. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want -” you hardly recognized the plea in your own voice, you fingers still dancing over the angles of his handsome face.

Jake’s eyebrows shot up inquisitively, the corner of his mouth curling slightly. You realized, then, that he seemed pleased to see you falter - to see you speechless.

Well, fuck that.

“I want to know you,” you finally admitted, returning the press of your fingers to his chest, your gaze dropping. “I want to know who you are, and if...if you have anyone. Someone - a family. And I want Marc and Steven to know you.”

Ah, he should have known. Releasing his grip on your hips, he pulled away, nodding as he headed toward the edge of the bed. Pushing his discarded pile of clothes aside, he sat down on the edge, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I don’t know what you were thinking,” he finally responded, “but...this is my only home.” His eyes met yours from across the room. “You’re my only family.”

Your whole world stopped.

All at once, you were both devastated and thrilled. Jake had no one else to answer to in his life - he could be a family with you and Marc and Steven, if he was willing. Even if he didn’t want to be involved with you romantically, you wanted him to be a part of your life. But what kind of lonely existence had he led? Out at night, the avatar of a god, bringing vengeance to the vilest of men...protecting the system, but getting nothing in return?

But the two of you couldn’t solve everything in one night. You would try, once more, to take what was in front of you, one step at a time.

“I am,” you finally answered, crossing the room to ease down on the edge of the bed beside him. “I am your family. And this is your home. You don’t have to hide from us, Jake, or sneak in through windows.”

“I’m not...hiding,” he attempted, eyes downcast as his shoulder rubbed up against yours. “I just don’t want to take any more of their life. Of yours.”

“They’re trying to talk to you, you know. You don’t have to shut them out.”

He said your name then, and it almost felt strange to hear him say it. Different, but...good.

He waited until you turned your head to look at him. “What I have...the way we are,” He tapped a finger to his temple, “in here...it’s not like a phone call. It doesn’t always work like that. It’s not always a sure thing.”

Shit. You violated the my-man-has-DID rules somehow. “I-I’m sorry, Jake, you’re right. It’s not my place to tell you how to...I don’t know, interact with your alters. I’m really sorry.”

Scowling, he paused, making you wonder if you really offended him.

“Are you always this damn infuriating?” He cracked a smile, letting you know it was all right.

“Actually, I’m usually a very calm and reasonable person,” you chuckled, leaning against his arm and giving him a little shove. “You just bring it out in me.”

Oh, he liked the idea of getting under your skin. He liked it a lot.

“Really?” He teased. “You mean you don’t scare the shit out them in the middle of the night? Follow them around? Drive them crazy...wearing that?” He threw your words back at you.

What a little shit.

“No,” you steadily answered him, your gaze open and honest. “I guess I’m just here to drive you crazy.”

@stormydaysxx laaundromat @rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face

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morganski-19 · 2 months

Text

The One with the Stolen Clothes

Eddie walks into Steve and Robin’s apartment to bother them, because he’s bored, and Robin dramatically gasps. Then throws a ball of paper at Steve when he walks out of his bedroom.

“What the fuck was that for?” he asks, thoroughly confused.

Robin gestures over to Eddie with wide eyes. Steve raises an eyebrow, still confused. Eddie just looked between the two of them, trying to decipher what they are silently communicating. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Eddie, where did you get that shirt?”

Eddie glances down at his shirt, having just pulled it out of the laundry basket before walking over here. “The laundry basket on the couch. Why?”

“No, like what place?”

He shrugs. “Thrift store probably, I don’t listen to this bad, but the logo’s cool.”

Robin dramatically stands up. “I knew it. That’s my shirt.”

Eddie makes a confused face. “How would your shirt end up in my apartment?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “I think I know. Remember when you stayed over here a few nights ago, and you borrowed some of my clothes. You said that you would wash them and then return them, but never did. I’m pretty sure that was the shirt you borrowed.”

“Huh, guess so. Sorry Buck, I’ll have to wash it again before giving it back to you.”

“Yeah fine, whatever,” Robin groans.

Steve snaps, like he just made a big realization. “That’s why you threw the paper at me.”

“It always come back to you stealing shit out of my closet.”

“Not my fault you like to wear baggy shirts.”

“You still wear it even if it’s not baggy,” Robin raises her voice. “Half my closet is stuff that you stretched out.”

Steve huffs. “That is so not true. And you steal my shit all the time, it’s like our thing.”

“Not when you lend someone else my clothes,” she points to Eddie, bringing him back into this conversation. “And I don’t care if it’s not washed, I’d like it back.”

Eddie shrugs. “I’ll go change then.”

He leaves the apartment and returns to his own. Nancy giving him an odd look when he walks through the door.

“Is that you’re shirt?” Nancy asks, sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop.

“Apparently not. It’s Robin’s.” Eddie goes to his room to change, double checking that this shirt is actually his.

“How’d you end up with Robin’s shirt?” Nancy asks, turning her head to the hall when a loud scream is heard from the other apartment.

Eddie matches her expression, thinking it’s probably not a good idea to go over there again. “Steve accidentally lent it to me. Apparently, he steals her clothes a lot.”

Nancy hums. “Yeah, it’s been a problem for years. But she does it to. When I roomed with her in college, she would steal my sweatshirts all the time.”

“I’m still surprised you guys didn’t date back then. You practically were from the sound of it.” There’s another scream from the across the hall. “Should we intervene?”

“Nah, they’ll be fine. We probably would have dated in college if I knew I was bi back then. But I didn’t, so we sort of missed it.”

Eddie faces Nancy. “And now?”

“Now,” Nancy says, still facing the door. “Whatever we might have had back then is gone. Robin and I are just friends. All we’ll ever be.”

“Are you saying that because you believe it, or because you think Robin doesn’t like you back.”

“Because I believe it. What we have,” Nancy takes a deep breath. “I’d rather be her friend forever than risk losing her to some shitty breakup. I almost lost Steve when we broke up in college, and then Jonthan when we broke up two years ago. I got lucky twice, I’m not risking being lucky again.”

Eddie sits down next to Nancy at the table. “But are you really going to stop yourself from trying. Maybe this time, you won’t have to be lucky. Everything could work out.”

“Are you still holding yourself back after your dick head of an ex-boyfriend broke up on you?” Nancy asks already knowing the answer.

“Got me there. When did life get so complicated?”

Nancy huffs. “Life was so much easier when we were in high school. The biggest thing we had to worry about were classes and shitty after school jobs. Not this.”

“Remember that hiding spot we found in the library?”

“Yeah,” Nancy smiles. “Right behind the non-fiction isle by the teachers lounge. Everything felt better there.”

“Do you ever wish you could go back in time, just for life to feel simpler again? Or to change something in hopes it would make your future better.”

“Sometimes. I think if I did, the one thing I would change is us falling out of touch. Everything else, I think was just fine enough.”

Eddie plays with his rings. “I’m sorry that I stopped reaching out when you went off to school. Just felt like you didn’t need me anymore, with all your new college friends and classes and shit. You didn’t need me dragging you back to that town. You were so much better than them.”

“I’m sorry I let you. Wasn’t just you’re doing. I wanted to separate as much from home as possible, you just happened to be in the crossfire.”

Robin bursts through the apartment door, finding Eddie with a glare. “My shirt,” she demands.

“Right, here,” he tosses her the shirt and she leaves. “We really need to start locking that door.”

Nancy winces. “Yeah. Why’d Steve lend you the shirt anyway?”

“Not the reason you think. We were too high and tired to stand up fully, so he just let me stay over.”

“Damn, thought you two were done being stupid.”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen until you and Robin stop being stupid.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug

#morgan's friends au #stranger things #friends au #ficlet #stranger things ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #some eddie and nancy lore #steddie #ronance #implied #pre relationship

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thewulf · 4 months

Text

Always & Forever Pt. 2 || JJ Maybank

Summary: Request - i absolutely loved the one with jj and routledge!reader after jb and Sarah are presumed dead (its absolutely brilliant) and was wondering if you could do a continuation of it where reader has conflicted feelings after they return and jj comforts her and tells her that it's okay

A/N - Ugh, I just love a good JJ comfort. Thank you for the request!

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Y/N

Word Count: 3.1k+

“It’s nice to see you out of that Chateau.” Kiara rubbed your shoulders before sitting down on the bench outside next to you. The three of you had met up outside the high school after running out of class. All of you receiving the text from your apparently not so dead brother John B. Kiara texted you where to meet them. The text was simple. They’re alive and okay. In the Bahamas. Living and breathing. With a picture to prove it.

Your eyes welled up with tears as you looked at the simple text and picture. They were alive. The son of a bitch did it. You nodded looking up to your almost sister. The one you ran to when you needed advice. She wrapped you up in a swift hug seeing you on the verge of yet another breakdown. Giving you a tight squeeze, you were ever thankful for the friendship you had with her. Thankful your brother brought such incredible people into your life. You had a different set of friends, ones a few years younger. Your age. John B made you when you were younger so that you could be your own person too. In the end you preferred his friends, but you still liked your school friends. They were the ones that knew you better than yourself somehow. The ones helping you limp along through the pain.

“He’s okay. They’re alright.” She gave you another soft squeeze before letting you go. She sat down at the table next to you across from Pope.

You nodded not being sure about it all, “I just… I can’t believe it.” You felt a tear drop down your cheek as you read the message over and over again, “I thought they were dead.”

“Hey, look at me mins.” JJ stepped forward. Using the pad of his fingertips he brushed away the tears you had tried so hard to hold back but failed at miserably in doing so.

He truly couldn’t fathom how you felt. He spent the better part of four days nursing you back to health and walking you through it. You hadn’t fully accepted his death, but you were beginning to. And now this? You were thrilled but felt so…guilty? Guilty for not believing. For letting yourself wither away for no reason.

“They’re alright Y/N. They’re alright.” He gave your arms a light touch before sitting down next to you. Pope and Kiara lost in a conversation of their own.

“Thank God for that.” You mumbled before leaning into him, “How the hell are we going to get them home? The Bahamas?” Sighing you tried your best to come up with a solution but falling miserably short.

“That’s not your job to figure out. They’ll be back soon. Don’t you worry. We just got to keep you out of trouble until then.” His smile brought one out in you too. He was so confident it would be alright that it made it hard not to believe him. JJ may have been messy, but he never let you down, never lied to you. So, why would he start now?

“I’ll choose to believe you Maybank.” You leaned into him feeling the weight of the world come crashing down once more. What a strangely emotional day. You should be happier than anything. And you were. But it felt off. Felt strange. Like somebody dead was coming back to life. He was never dead though. But you grieved him. He felt dead. And you couldn’t have felt more uneasy about it all.

He grinned, wrapping his free arm around you, and pulling you close, “When have I ever let you down mins?”

You shook your head quickly, “You haven’t.”

He leaned over, whispering in your ear, “I promise, that’ll never change.”

JJ was screaming at the three of you, “Go, go, go, go, go, go!”

How in the hell did you always end up in these situations? The damn truck broke down and you were running for your life, literally.

When Kie screamed, “Guys, I think he has a gun!” You kicked it up a notch. Oh, how your body wasn’t quite ready for this, not in the slightest. JJ ran behind you, clearly not running as fast as he normally would. He had to make sure you were alright.

“Keep your heads down!” JJ shouted as he tailed you. JJ was ready to pull you in a different direction need be. He knew Kie and Pope could fend for themselves. He wasn’t so sure you were doing alright though. You were running considerably slower than you normally would.

“Fucking hell.” You cursed more to yourself than anybody else. You knew you were holding them back.

“You alright there Routledge?” JJ called out from behind you hearing you mumbling something from in front of him.

When you put your thumbs up out to side of you he knew you were fine. Winded for sure but fine. You’d never back down from a challenge. Never get caught. No that wasn’t a possibility for you.

“Down the alleyway!” Pope shouted before darting down a side. JJ caught you before throwing you forward with his momentum when you were caught off guard in a daze.

“Thought you said you were alright?” He asked, barely out of breath as you stumbled forward. If it weren’t for JJ you’d surely have been caught by now after stumbling over your very own feet.

You nodded, “Sorry, just getting a little tired.” It wasn’t a lie, no. It just wasn’t the full truth. You felt better, you looked better. But you weren’t completely better. You still got tired quicker than normal. Your body still recovering from the trauma it went through.

Before he could respond though you ran right into the back of Pope who stopped so suddenly not even JJ could react.

“What the hell Pope!” You pushed him after you bounced right off his back.

“Y/N.” The voice of your older brother snapped you out of your fit of irritation at your friend. It couldn’t be. No, it couldn’t be John B? You peered around your much taller and broader friend to spot not only John B but Sarah as well sitting on a bike and cart.

“Holy shit.” You gasped it utter shock. This was the last thing you expected.

“Come on! We gotta go!” Sarah pulled you onto the cart right onto her lap. She held you close.

You couldn’t believe it. John B and Sarah. Just fine. In fucking Charleston of all places? Who would’ve thought?

“You’re alive.” You stated more than asked as you looked up to Sarah. You’d grown close to her in the few short months she’s been around.

“Yeah. We’re alive.” She smiled down at you ignoring the antics of the pogues around you.

“And you’re okay? He’s okay?” John B was laughing at the commotion, high on life as he reconnected with the group.

“As okay as we can be kiddo.” She gave you a quick hug but left her arm wrapped around you as she cheered once the group pushed the man who had been chasing them on the ground. Off to the boat they went. Off home they went. It all felt so surreal. Like the last week of your life didn’t exist. Oh, how the universe was playing with your emotions.

Once you were on the boat you sat there smiling, listening in on the conversation between everybody. A sick feeling took over your stomach as you looked over smiling at John B for the first time in a week. He was alive. He was okay. He wasn’t dead. He didn’t get lost at sea. He was sitting five feet away from you. Your older brother was okay.

“Y/N?” He asked. Almost like he knew you were stuck in your head.

“Yeah?” You asked. He knocked you right out of your thoughts. It was a voice you really never thought you’d get to hear again. It was the weirdest feeling. You felt euphoric that you’d found them again. Guilty for thinking they were dead. Scared as hell to go home. Uneasy about the future. It was almost too much to try and comprehend. Afterall, they accused John B of killing the Sherriff, you still had to deal with that mess.

“You didn’t answer the question.” He smiled patting your knee and sitting down next to you.

A light blush crept to your face. You were doing that a lot more often than you usually did. Zoning out of the conversation completely, “Sorry, I didn’t hear it.”

“You ready to get home?” Your older brother with the curly hair and honey brown eyes asked you.

A quick nod came from you without hesitation, “Yeah, more than ready.” You might’ve been unsure of your future but you sure as hell wanted to sleep in your bed. Especially if your older brother was sleeping in the room next to yours.

“Hey kid.” John B nudged your side, “You alright? You look like hell.” He smiled with a sadness you rarely saw from him. He was always tough on you. Only going soft when he needed. But when he saw your state he couldn’t help but to feel a little guilty. When he put himself in your shoes his heart broke at the realization of how alone you must’ve felt. You’d broken down without him.

“I’m okay now.” You turned to him giving him a shallow smile, “I thought you died JB. I kind of fell apart.” You whispered and turned away from him knowing that you’d fall apart if you looked at your older brother for much longer.

“I’m so sorry bug. I felt like I didn’t have an option at the time. And we got lucky. We really did. We probably should’ve died out there. I can’t even begin to apologize. You know how much you mean to me.” He spoke to you and only you. Everybody had given the brother and sister duo the space they needed.

You looked over to him with tears in your eyes, “I know. I’m so sorry JB. I can’t believe it’s come to this.” You felt defeated. How in the hell were you guys going to unfuck this mess up? Somebody was dead. It wasn’t your guys’ fault no. But it was being pinned on your brother. He couldn’t get locked up. Not for something he’d never dream of doing.

“Hey, we’ll figure it out. We always do buggie.” He smiled trying to provide you some sort of comfort. He too had a plethora of nicknames for his younger sister. You in face hated bugs and eight-year-old John Booker Routledge thought it’d be funny to give his six-year-old sister the nickname bug. And of course, it stuck. Because why wouldn’t it? You’d secretly grown fond of the nickname over time

“I always have a solution and I don’t know the answer to this one.” You let a few tears fall. There was simply no solution. You had to let it all play out. Hide John B for as long as you could. It was going to be a task, but you guys could do it.

He rubbed your back trying his best to soothe you. You were wound up tighter than he’d ever seen. You’d clearly been through hell and back, “This isn’t all on you Y/N. We’ll figure it out as the pogues, yeah? Relax for me for a little while.”

“I’ll try.” You spoke leaning back into the seat of the boat. Giving your eyes a close trying your best to enjoy the ride back.

He hesitated. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t quite sure what to do, “I’ll leave you to it.” He spoke before getting up and finding Sarah who happened to be talking to JJ. JJ who was watching you with nothing but concern in his eyes. John B wasn’t dumb. He knew better. He saw the way his best friend was watching you. Something was very wrong, and John B didn’t have a clue what had happened.

“You should go talk to her.” John B spoke to JJ once he made his way back to Sarah, “She’s being quiet. Not like her usual self.” He frowned seeing his younger sister so out of whack. He needed you as much as you needed him. Your happy go lucky attitude got him through so much more than he’d ever admitted to you.

“Yeah sure.” JJ was quick to agree.

Sitting down next to you he gave you a moment before speaking up, “You alright there, honey?” He asked knowing that’d get a ruse out of you.

You leaned your head forward again before turning back to him, “Back to honey?”

He smirked, “Don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

You retuned the smile. It felt like the first genuine smile in weeks, “Aren’t you so considerate J.”

Giving you a wink, he took one of your hands in his, not really caring that your older brother was watching with an eagle eye from across the small boat, “Only for you.”

Flashing him a soft smile you didn’t hide the sigh that escaped your lips. Feeling comfortable with your lifelong friend you leaned your head onto his shoulder. Your eyes fluttered shut hearing the soft lull of the engine cutting through the water below you. It was peacefully quiet as everybody found a spot and found their solace. It was always one of your favorite parts of a road trip with the crew. There was always a comfortable silence shared amongst the group. Absolute peace with the best people you knew.

JJ leaned his head on yours. He let you relish in the silence for a moment before asking you a question he really needed to know the answer to, “Are you okay mins?”

You nodded your head subtly in his shoulder, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“You’re awfully quiet.” He whispered back to you. His arm made its way around your torso and sat on your side securing you tightly into his side.

“And you’re being awfully chatty.” You grinned into his chest knowing he’d find mock offense to your comeback.

You were right. He pinched your side, lightly and let out a “Hey!”

Lifting your head from his soft embrace you looked him in the eyes for the first time in a while. He was so pretty. The most handsome boy you knew. And you always made sure to tell him that whenever you could.

You spotted the concern dotting his eyes as he studied your face. He knew something wasn’t right. John B knew something wasn’t right. You knew something wasn’t right. You just couldn’t place it. You were so fucking happy he was home. God, it was the absolute best scenario that could’ve played out. Why’d you feel so off? So weird? Like you were in a dream or something.

“I’m okay J. I just… I just feel weird.” You admitted to the boy who wanted nothing but answers from you. When he broke out that sad stare you couldn’t help but to spill your feelings to your concerned best friend.

His head cocked to the side as he processed what you said, “What do you mean?” He pressed, needing to know. He looked you over for any signs of injury. You weren’t shot were you? He didn’t remember the guy firing a shot but who knows, a lot was going on.

You noticed his eyes looking for anything wrong, “I’m fine JJ.” You frowned not sure how to get spit out what you meant.

“Okay.” He waited for you to go on.

You turned away before continuing, “I should be so happy they’re back. They’re alive. I just feel off. I don’t know J.”

“You’re in shock.” He said so quickly you weren’t sure if you heard him right.

You shook your head off like he was crazy, “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” He rolled his eyes knowing you’d never take his word for it. You were as stubborn as your older brother.

“JJ I’m not in shock. I get what happened. I understand it…”

He interrupted you quickly, grabbing at your hand to shut you up, “You can understand it all. Still doesn’t mean you aren’t in shock mins. Two life altering events happened in your life within a week. It’s alright if you feel weird. If you feel off. It’s perfectly fine, alright?”

JJ wasn’t often one for such kind of comfort, but he knew how to when he needed to. You needed it right now. A little bit lost in a great big world.

You hummed, “If you say so.”

He smiled before gently placing your head back down on your head, “Remember what I said earlier? When have I ever let you down?”

He was right of course. JJ was always right. He had never let you down, “I love you JJ Maybank, you know that right?” You whispered once more, careful to make sure that nobody else heard. You had said it a thousand times to the blonde-haired boy before, but it meant something different this time. You loved him, you really did. And he knew it. He knew you were admitting far more than you ever dared too before.

A smile couldn’t be stopped from forming on his face as he realized the weight of your words, “I love you too. Love, love you mins.” He whispered into your ear careful to keep the moment between you and him only. JB and the crew would figure it out soon enough. He wanted to relish in the intimate moment between the girl he’d adored from afar for so long. His best friend. The girl he couldn’t stand to be around at first to the girl he couldn’t wait to see. His girl. You. Y/N. Little Routledge.

“Love, love huh?” You laughed in his chest feeling nothing but the purest form of joy rippling throughout your body.

“I love the hell out of you Y/N. John B’s going to murder me when he finds out but damn hearing you say that was everything. You’re it mins. You’re my girl. I can promise you that.” He wanted to kiss you more than anything. Especially when you looked up at him while he was cradling you in his chest shielded from your older brothers eyes. God, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

But for your sake. And his sake he decided to wait until it was just the two of you. He could wait. Instead, he brushed the hair away from your face and settled for squeezing you into him once more, “Guess what J?” You asked once he was done settling you in for the ride back.

“What’s that?”

“I love, love you too.” You grinned that beautiful smile he’d missed so badly in the last few weeks that’d ripped the life right from you. And that, that was worth everything and more to him. He couldn’t wait to spend a lifetime of drawing that beautiful smile from his ever more beautiful girl.

Always & Forever || JJ Maybank

Summary: Request - Hii. Love your work. It's so good. I'm feeling a good hurt comfort fic with the obx cast. Could I get a JJ Maybank x reader (maybe john b's younger sister?) where she's lost everything after they assume John B and Sarah are lost at sea... Read Rest Here

A/N - Ohhh this was kinda hard to write. Being sad is a bitch. Please let somebody know if you're sad/getting sad. People love you! Always remember that <3

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Y/N

Word Count: 2.3+

GIF by anakin-skywalker

TW: Talks of depression, being sad, not eating etc.

You barely heard the soft knocks on your bedroom door. Currently, you were huddled underneath the comforter of your missing older brother just hoping and praying he was okay. They’d officially called it. Lost at sea. Presumed deceased. Dead. Just like your fucking father. How was this your life? Two years ago, you had the world with the two coolest guys on the earth. And now? Now you were alone. Utterly fucking alone. It’d only been three damn days, but they gave up. There was no funding for a poor pogue boy from the wrong part of the island. Sherriff Peterman just gave you a sad look when she broke the news to you a few days prior. Or it could’ve been yesterday. Time didn’t matter anymore. Nothing really mattered anymore. You were a sixteen-year-old girl alone as fuck in this cold ass world.

“Hey little Rout.” You heard JJ’s kinder than usual voice from the other side of the door, “You need to open this door or I’m going to have to pick the lock. Need to see if you’re okay. You haven’t been at school and Mrs. Smith is getting worries, she said she’s going to report you.” You heard the soft sigh of utter defeat as he waited for a moment for you to respond. To do anything. You didn’t have the energy to respond so instead you just laid there.

“Come on kid.” You rolled your eyes at the nickname he’d long since used on you, “You need to come out. Get some fresh air. You can’t stay in there forever.”

Nothing. You just couldn’t. Depression was a hell of a thing. You just couldn’t fathom getting up and unlocking that door. Your brain knew you should. But the actual thought of moving seemed like a foreign concept you weren’t ready for sure yet.

He didn’t give you much else of a choice as you heard the lock click. You knew it wouldn’t take him much effort to get it but alas, you just couldn’t care. It didn’t seem to matter. Nothing else mattered. John B was all you had left and now you sat here empty and void.

“Oh Y/N…” His voice trailed off as he spotted you withering away underneath a mass of blankets. A blank stare on your face. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes feeling grossly ashamed you let it get this kind of bad.

“I just…” Your voice croaked out as it hadn’t been used in while, how long you hadn’t used it you really didn’t have a clue.

He shook his head kneeling down beside your bed, “It’s alright mins.” His head was close as he smiled at you with a smile that never reached his eyes. A smile he was putting on for you. He took his hand brushing your knotted hair away from your sunken face.

Mins. You wanted to laugh. It was the first good emotion you had felt in a while. Mins was your current nickname of quite the long line of ever evolving nicknames from the blonde-haired boy. First it was mini-Routledge, then it was mini-JB, then mini and now mins. He didn’t use it all too often anymore, only when he thought you needed it. And you needed it more than ever now. All his love and everything he could give to you.

JJ knew just how much John B meant to you. He was your best friend. The two of you did everything together, practically inseparable. Even when JB met JJ they still included you in on everything. You were his shadow. That didn’t change as you got older. You just had to play it off as something different.

“I’m tired JJ.” You sighed letting your eyes close in front of him. The effort to keep them open was beginning to become too much.

He frowned deeply. This wasn’t like you. You were usually so full of life. The one who wanted to go and do things. The one who called him lame when he didn’t want to try something new with you. You were the one that kept the group going. And now it felt like everything was falling apart. The pogues were without their people and they needed you back.

This was your way of shutting down and he knew it.

“When was the last time you ate honey?” He asked while trying to brush the knots out of the hair he could get to. You were never particular about your hair, but JJ knew how badly knots hurt to get out. He remembered that one time when the both of you were younger, you crying when your dad tried to brush out some gnarly knots after JJ and JB tried to teach you how to surf one afternoon. It broke his heart even as a twelve-year-old boy. He had that same protective love that JB had over you.

You sighed trying to remember, “Before we found out he was missing I guess.”

JJ’s eyes bugged. He knew he should’ve checked in on you sooner. Damn the pogues who told him to leave you alone. That you needed space. You clearly didn’t need space. You needed help.

“That was three days ago Y/N.” His blood felt like it was running cold. How could he let you lay here for three entire days? JB would fucking murder him if he found out. Some friend he was.

You hummed in acknowledgement, “I’ve had some water though. Haven’t been hungry.” You admitted to your concerned friend. Your voice finally started sounding more like your own after the hoarseness had worked its way out.

“Well, that’s a start mins.” He sighed brushing his overgrown golden hair away from his eyes, “Can you get up for me? Get you some soup downstairs or something?”

“JJ.” You whined not feeling up to the task, “I’m too tired. I don’t feel like it.”

He took you hand in his and wanted to cry from how cold it was. You weren’t right. No, you were suffering, and they just let you. He felt nothing more than a piece of shit seeing you so broken, “I’ll carry you. I just need you to eat something honey. John B would be sick with worry if he knew you were starving away.”

“Don’t talk about him.” You turned away from JJ feeling your own blood run cold at the mention of your missing older brothers name. You couldn’t fucking believe he chose to leave you. Fuck, you couldn’t believe he’d ever put Sarah in that position either. It all felt like a fever dream you had to wake up from. But you weren’t waking up which meant this was a sick and twisted reality that you didn’t want to participate in anymore.

“Y/N…”

You shook your head on your pillow, “Please JJ. Don’t talk about him. I can’t take it. Not yet.” You felt the tears that had long since dried up come flowing back in an instant. Why in the hell did he bring out these feelings in you so effortlessly? Leave it to your older brothers cute as hell best friend that was certainly off limits. JJ would never, ever feel that way for you anyway.

“Alright honey.” Honey. That was a new one. You’d heard him use it sparingly on girls in the past, but it certainly was never used for you. But he’d used it a few times in the last few sentences sending your overly tired mind reeling in another direction. He was just being kind, that was all. After all, your older brother did just fucking vanish into thin air, “Can you please get up for me? Please mins? I need you to eat something. Whatever you what. Please?” He added one last please to let you know how dire he felt.

You rolled back over to him exerting far too much effort in doing so, “I don’t think I can.” You sounded defeated as the tears started once more, “I’m so tired J.” You whispered trying to contain the sob that wanted to escape from your throat.

“Cause you need to eat honey.” He spoke with nothing but concern on his face, “Let me take you downstairs? You need to move. Need to be somewhere new. Need to get some calories in your body.” He said so matter of factly you weren’t sure if it was JJ in front of you. But then again, for as much as a mess the boy normally was he thrived in crises situations such as these. He always seemed to know exactly what to do.

“Yeah, that’s fine JJ.” You knew he’d win eventually so it might be best to just give it up.

He let out a subtle breath of sure-fire relief as he scooped you up into his arms. You were light. Far too fucking light. God, he was such an idiot. He knew you better than any of the other pogues. Of course, you needed help.

He set you down at the messy table filled with whatever shit JB had likely left there the week prior. You grew tired of always cleaning so you just started leaving it. Your eyes scanned the table full of junk. A sad smile formed seeing his homework scattered about with an unpaid parking ticket next to it all. He’d never get to finish that homework. Never would have to lie his way out of that ticket. Why him? Why your JB?

“What do you want to eat honey?” He asking running a hand up and down your arm. Attempting any form of comfort for you. He saw the sad look in your eyes as they scanned the table. He had to get your mind off of JB in any way he could.

“Why are you calling me that?” You asked instead of answering him. It was driving you nuts, and you had to know. In your right mind you’d never

“Honey?” He asked, a bit taken aback by your sudden brazenness. The you he knew would never have asked him that. Instead, you would’ve asked JB. Something you couldn’t do anymore.

You nodded in confirmation feeling your eyes droop and your mouth open to yawn. JJ cursed internally making the decision of canned soup for you knowing you needed to eat as soon as possible. Light and easy and calories. That’s exactly what you needed.

“I don’t know mins.” He admitted while heating up your food, “It just felt, feels right. I can stop saying it if you’d like.”

“I didn’t say that.” You spoke back in almost a whisper.

“Honey it is.” He grinned while putting your warm, not overly hot, soup in a bowl. He set it down in front of you waiting for you to eat.

“I still like mins too.” You added admitting to him just how much you did like the nickname. He’d stopped using it as much now that the two of you had gotten older. You’d forgotten just how much you’d liked the nickname. Probably because it was a nickname only you could have. A special one from the boy you surely loved but vehemently denied.

“Noted, now eat mins.” He grinned pointing to the bowl.

You nodded not really sure if your hands would agree with your brain. You were so utterly fucking exhausted. Turns out you did need to eat if you wanted to be able to function. Because it felt like a task you’d never be able to start. As much as you tried your arm just wouldn’t cooperate.

“Mins?” He asked seeing you not really making a move for it.

“I can’t JJ. It’s too much.” You hated to admit how disgustingly useless you felt. Yet here you were.

He nodded in understanding, “Here, let me.” He took the spoon from the bowl and held it front of your face. For the first time in three days, you relished in the taste of food. It did taste really good. And damn, you were a lot hungrier than you realized. Before you knew it the bowl was gone, and you were entirely full.

“Thank you J.” You let your eyes close once more feeling the outright exhaustion of the situation come down over you.

“Anytime mins.” Seeing your eyes close he noted your fatigue, “Why don’t we sit on the couch and watch a movie?” He suggested hoping you’d agree.

“That sounds nice J, I may need your help again.” You let out a frustrated sigh at the state of your condition. You did start feeling a bit better but the thought of walking or even crawling made you shudder.

He shot up from his seat to get you up. He picked you up like it was nothing, “I got you hon. I always do and always will. Remember that alright?” You nodded in his chest doing your best to fight off the sleep that wanted to take you.

“Thank you J.” You whispered into his chest. He set you down right next to him, letting your head fall into his side.

He wrapped an arm around your torso letting you know you were safe and secure. He wasn’t planning on going anywhere without you anymore. Running his hand through your hair he felt a shiver knowing you liked exactly what he was doing, “Always mins. Now, let yourself sleep. We’ll deal with all this shit when you wake up. Together.”

You nodded letting the darkness take over, “Promise?”

“Always and forever.” He gave your head a soft and gentle kiss before the soft snoozes overcame you. He decided he was going to watch you sleep, for however long that was. You were his everything too. He was only just beginning to realize that now. Always and forever. It had a nice ring to it. Forever with you was a life he would dream about. Maybe one day. Maybe after he sorted you through this mess. Maybe just maybe.

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babydollmarauders · 1 year

Text

YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN, KID — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

part of the Midnights Fic List

summary: in which y/n spent her high school years changing herself to become what she thought was Jack’s type, but when they meet again a few years later, she learns that she never needed to change in order for him to like her.

warnings: eating disorder mentioned and lightly described, weed mention/use, alcohol mention/use, light profanity, changing yourself for a guy (yes, that is a warning), this is mostly angst.

notes: one of my most relatable Taylor songs to my favorite guy <3 this was proofread but if you see anything insensitive, please let me know so i can change it. for timeline purposes, i should mention that i wrote this with a summer birthday in mind for y/n.

important: THIS FIC IS NOT ROMANTICIZING ED’S. if you’re struggling with an ED, please know that you can message me any time! i understand the pain and frustration and i will always be there to help in any way possible.

14 YEARS OLD

it was in my freshman year of high school that i noticed i was a bit different than other girls my age. with them having middle school relationships under their belt, and most being in sports rather than chorus like me. i didn’t really think much of it, as boys played no part in my life besides as defacto muses for my songs. but i still felt out of place.

16 YEARS OLD

it was in the summer before my junior year that i met Jack Hughes. a USNTDP hockey player and my first official crush. my family had rented a lake house and the Hughes’ ended up being our neighbors for the summer. My parents quickly befriended Ellen and Jim, and when they realized they had children the same age, all four of them tried for weeks to get Jack and i to hang out. but to no avail, because i was shutting myself in my room for some quiet writing time, and Jack was always busy with his brothers. but when i had slipped away from my parents to go for an evening swim one night, apparently Jack had the same idea. we saw each other at the lake and got to talking, becoming friends pretty quickly after that. it was 2 weeks into the friendship that i realized he made me feel things that my other guy friends didn’t.

when we split up at the end of the summer, we promised to text, but a couple weeks later i was pleasantly surprised when i was called into the school office to show him around. with pretty similar schedules, we were seeing each other in school quite a bit, and from that our friendship only grew. i sat with him and his friends at lunch, he would pick me up for school on the mornings that my car wouldn’t start, and he would even walk me to my classes sometimes.

but because of that, my feelings grew too. i did a full one-eighty, changing my entire personality. i stopped spending my weekends at home, instead opting to attend parties, just in hopes of seeing Jack there. and i found any excuse to talk to him, for even just a minute.

i’m sitting in my room, struggling with my math homework when my phone starts ringing. i peel my eyes away from the worksheet to glance over at it, and my heart flutters when i see Jack’s name, his picture lighting up the screen. i quickly press the answer button, holding the phone up to my ear.

“hey” i say.

“hey! you texted saying you have a question?” his voice is raspy, words coming out slow and slightly slurred, and i can hear Trevor, Alex, and Cole talking in the background. he’s smoking weed.

“uh, yeah. i had a question about the Algebra 2 homework, but i can just ask you tomorrow when you’re in a better state of mind.” i laugh.

“how’d you know?” i can hear his grin through the phone, and it makes me smile.

“call it best friend’s intuition. i’ll let you get back to the guys.” i tell him. we say our goodbyes and i hang up, taking another second to stare at my phone with a goofy smile before i turn back to my math homework.

during the school year, i listened to him talk about each girl he was seeing throughout the year. each of them pretty, skinny, and blonde. and eventually, i wondered if he would like me as more than his annoying best friend, if i looked like those girls. so i would stare in my mirror for hours some nights, pinpointing things i should change about myself. as like most teenage girls, i had always been insecure, wishing to change myself. but now i learned to use Jack as an excuse for it. and from there, things started developing.

i begged my mom for weeks to let me dye my hair, and when she finally caved, i went to the salon and went blonde. but my hair wasn’t the only thing that changed. my eating habits were altered. slowly at first, just cutting out certain foods, and then all at once. i started skipping meals, excusing myself from dinner by saying i had a large lunch, leaving the house quickly in order to avoid breakfast, and only eating at lunch when Jack expressed concern about my lack of food. like now.

“good afternoon, hockey knuckleheads. your favorite person has arrived.” i announce my arrival at the lunch table while dropping my book bag by my seat, interrupting the boys current conversation. they all look at me, quickly saying their hello’s.

“y/n, you’d give me an autograph, right?” Trevor asks, and my face pinches in confusion.

“uh, what?” i ask.

“like, if you knew you were gonna be famous one day. you’d give me an autograph right now, right?” he clarifies.

“ignore him.” Jack laughs, pushing Trevor’s face away from he and i. he turns back to look at me, eyeing the empty tabletop in front of me. his smile drops and he turns to his backpack, pulling out a protein bar. he throws it over on the table in front of me, it landing with a smack, making me flinch.

“eat.” he tells me. my eyes bounce between the snack and him, studying his serious expression.

“i’m fine, Jack. i ate a big breakfast this morning, so i’m not hungry. keep this for when you need it at practice.” i tell him, sliding the snack back towards him. but of course my stomach speaks volumes, deciding right then to grumble loudly. Jack raises an eyebrow at me and slides the bar back over to me. i sigh, opening it up and taking a bite. he smiles at the sight, and it makes my heart skip a beat.

“good girl.”

17 YEARS OLD

it’s the end of senior year now, and i’ve gotten no closer to dating Jack than i was before. i’ve spent countless nights alone in my room, writing songs about him and crying over snapchat stories of him with other girls.

it’s another friday night, and that means another party in hopes of Jack seeing me dressed up. this time, my own party. with my parents out of town for the weekend, i took the chance to throw a party, inviting what felt like my entire grade in a mass text.

i walk around the house, my blonde hair curled and in a half-up-half-down do. i’m decked out in a tight fit black mini dress with black ballet flats to match, and i did a full glam makeup look. i scan the living room for Jack, but when i finally find him, i immediately feel tears pricking at the back of my eyes.

he’s sat on the couch, a pretty blonde draped across his lap, whispering in his ear as he nods, his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her steady, and a grin on his face. our friends were sat around him, some having their own discussions, and some singing along to the music playing on the surround sound speakers.

i go to spin back around, fully planning on going upstairs to my room for a quick cry, but before i can fully turn, i lock eyes with Jack. he raises his hand in a wave and beckons me over and i offer a weak smile in return. i look around the party once more and feel something snap inside of me.

i feel so stupid. i’ve spent the last almost two years of my life changing myself to try and get his attention and to have him look at me in a new light. spent almost two years overanalyzing his every move and i let my final two years of high school slip by me. instead of living in the moment and enjoying my rapidly declining time with my friends, i was wondering if Jack had seen my snapchat story, or if he did then why didn’t he slide up? amongst various other things to do with him.

i was done revolving my entire life and every decision i make around a guy who obviously doesn’t like me the way i like him.

21 YEARS OLD

it’s been four years since i started living for myself. in that time, i went to a treatment center for my eating disorder, graduated college, moved to New Jersey for a new job, and made new friends. i haven’t talked to Jack in three of those years. not because i didn’t want to, but because after high school, our friendship fizzled out. he went on to play in the NHL, and i went to college. we both lived busy lives, and it became too much to handle. i still talk to the other guys, Trevor the most, but not nearly as much as i used to.

now i’m sat in a club. it’s a saturday night, and my friend Yaz wanted to go do her favorite hobby. seeing how many men she can get to buy her free drinks. currently, she’s chatting up a cute brunette with an accent out on the dance floor, and i’m sat by myself at the bar. drinking an almost gone shirley temple and wondering why i agreed to go out when i would much rather be snuggled on my couch with a blanket and a movie. i’m debating telling Yaz that i’m gonna leave, when a guy sidles up next to me, taking the seat on my right and throwing me a smile.

“hi, i’m Dawson.” he holds his hand out and i slip mine in it, shaking.

“hi, i’m y/n.” he nods before turning back to a table of guys.

“IT’S HER!” he yells over, and my brows furrow, face pinching in confusion. he turns back to me and smiles again. “sorry. my friend said he thought he knew you, but he didn’t wanna come over and then be wrong.”

it’s at that moment that a shadow encases us, and i glance over my shoulder to see the one person i wasn’t expecting.

“hey!” Jack takes a seat on Dawson’s abandoned chair. i didn’t even notice he had slipped away. “it’s been so long!”

i blink a few times, just taking in the man in front of me. he looks good. like, really good. i wasn’t naive enough to think that the love i held for him had been snuffed out, i’m just comfortable with myself enough now, that i know that changing myself for him won’t do anything except hurt me.

“hey.” i breathe out. “wow. uh, i wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“yeah, i wasn’t really expecting to see you either. what are you doing in New Jersey?” he asks. okay, it’s not like i’m stupid. i knew Jack lived in New Jersey. i just also know it’s a big state and the possibility of us running into each other was slim. but apparently the universe likes to laugh in my face.

“i live here.” i tell him. “i moved here a few months ago, for a job.”

“and you didn’t call me? i thought we were friends!” he jokes, and i stiffen at the word. friends. yeah, that’s all we’ve ever been. “can we go somewhere? to talk?”

i nod and he leads me out of the club. i send a quick text to Yaz that i went outside for a few minutes, and she responds with a thumbs up emoji. Jack and i stop outside the entrance. the club stopped letting people in about half an hour ago, so there’s no line, just us and a bouncer standing about fifteen feet away at the entrance.

“well, you look good! you went back to your natural hair color, i like it. it suits you better than the blonde.” Jack starts off, and his words strike a nerve in my heart. he didn’t like me blonde? i knew it didn’t change anything with how he felt about me, but i didn’t know he disliked it in general.

“you look healthier too. that makes me really happy, y/n. my mom told me a couple years ago that your mom said you got treatment for your…disorder. i’m really proud of you.” my heart breaks a little more at his soft tone, he seems genuine. “i saw you earlier, with your friend. you have the spark in your eye back. i’m really glad you seem happy again. i’m just sorry i didn’t do anything before, to help you with anything you were going through. i was a naive kid, i just thought you’d come to me if you were struggling. but looking back, i realize that i should’ve reached out to help you regardless.”

“Jack, you shouldn’t blame yourself. you were a kid. i was a kid too, i didn’t understand the full extent of what i was doing.” i tell him. tears prick at my eyes and i blink them away.

“can i ask you a question?” he asks.

“of course.” i nod.

“why did you do it? was there a reason? i mean, at the time, it felt like you completely just changed overnight. but maybe it was a gradual thing and i just didn’t realize it back then.” i lose hope in keeping my tears at bay, letting one roll freely down my cheek. “you don’t have to tell me. obviously. it’s your business. i just- i’ve been wondering.”

i take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself to explain.

“i was a naive kid, Jack. i liked a guy and i thought if i changed myself, maybe he would like me too. but it didn’t work, and instead i realized that i was just harming myself by not eating, doing things i hated, going to parties just to try and get his attention. looking back at it now, it was stupid. but back then, it seemed like the best idea i had ever had.”

“you did all that for a guy?” he asks. but his tone isn’t the usual one i get from people when i tell them about my past. it’s not incredulous, or judgmental, or even pitiful. he just sounds, sad. i just nod my head. “well, whoever he was, he wasn’t worth it. if a guy doesn’t like you for you, then he’s an idiot, and he doesn’t deserve you. i’m really glad you see that now. although, i wish you would’ve known it before.”

if only he knew.

“switching the topic.” i say, and he lets out a small breathy chuckle. “how have you been?”

“i’ve been good. just, trying not to get injured on ice, ya know?” i nod along.

“oh yeah, i remember. i still don’t understand why you would put yourself through that barbaric game.” i joke and he laughs. the sound causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach, and it almost feels no time has gone by at all. i still feel like a lovesick teenager.

before either of us can speak again, my drunk friend stumbles out of the club, an arm looped through Dawson’s.

“hey, i thought i’d bring this one back to you. she kinda seems like she might need to sober up some.” Dawson tells me, and i thank him. Yaz lays her head on my shoulder, and Dawson says his goodbye to me and Yaz before slipping back inside.

“who’s this?” Yaz stage whispers, studying Jack who still stands in front of me. Jack and i laugh at her drunken attempt at being quiet.

“this is Jack.” i tell her. “Jack this is my friend, Yaz.”

“Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack.” Yaz repeats, and it’s like i can see the gears turning in her head. “that name sounds so familiar. Jack.”

“hey, wait! isn’t that the name of that guy you told me about? the one you were madly in love with in high school?” she blurts out, and my eyes turn as wide as saucers. i can feel my face heating up. i turn to look at my friend, who apparently has absolutely no filter when she’s had too much to drink. before any of us can say another word, a blue car pulls up and Yaz’s sister, Cara, steps out. “Yay! my ride!”

Yaz stumbles over to her, only stopping to turn and blow me a kiss before letting her sister help her in the car. Cara throws me a smile and a goodnight before getting in herself and driving away. leaving only me and the guy Yaz just exposed my love for.

i turn back to Jack, finding him wide eyed and repeatedly blinking. i open my mouth, but nothing comes out. i’m not sure what to say. but apparently Jack does.

“it was me?” he asks, pointing to his chest. “i was the guy?”

i feel like i might be sick. i never meant for him to know. i thought i would take that secret to my grave. i manage a weak nod, not able to physically speak.

“why- i mean- why did you think you had to do those things to yourself, y/n? i- i’m just— i’m so confused.”

“you had a type.” i shrug. “you dated all these girls, in high school. and they all had the same things in common. blonde, skinny, pretty, outgoing. you liked all those girls romantically so i thought maybe if i was more like them, you would like me like that too.”

“but i did like you like that!” he exclaims. i furrow my brows and my nose scrunches in confusion.

“what?” i whisper.

“i did like you romantically! i just thought i never had a chance with you. so, i busied myself with other girls. why do you think none of them ever lasted long?” he asks.

“i don’t know, i never really thought about that.” my head swarms with all this new information.

“because, they weren’t you.” he pleads. “i tried to forget those feelings for you by dating other girls, girls that before i met you, were my type. but they weren’t you. none of them were you.”

he steps forward, taking my face in his hands.

“i can’t believe you thought you had to change for me. fuck, i’m so stupid. i should’ve just told you i liked you when i first realized my feelings.” he breathes out.

“you can tell me now if you want?” i offer meekly, my head spinning. i want to kiss him. i’ve waited almost six years for this moment, and dear god i want to kiss him. now quite possibly more than ever.

“i love you, y/n.” he whispers. “i’ve loved you since the summer we were sixteen and you tried to push me off the dock into the lake, and i pulled you in with me. i still remember when you popped back up in front of me in the water. my first thought was ‘she’s so beautiful.’”

i inhale a shaky breath before tilting my head up to cover his lips with mine. kissing him with desperation and need. need to not waste another second that i could spend being with him. Jack is frozen for a second before his lips start moving against mine. his hands trail down my body to grip my hips, pulling me towards him. we fit together like a puzzle piece. my own hands grip the hair at the nape of his neck. we pull away from each other, and i look into his eyes.

“i love you too.” i whisper. “if that wasn’t obvious yet.”

“yeah? i don’t know, i think you might need to show me again.” he smirks and leans back down capturing my lips in a kiss once more.

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #midnights fic list #faithlynn’s writings <3 #babydollmarauders #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nj devils #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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stephstars08 · 3 months

Text

Welcome to my Darkside

GF!Ethan Landry x Reader

Warnings: Obsessed!Ethan, Adult Language, Jealous!Ethan, Murder, Blood, Violence, Weapons, Sexual Tension, Sexual References, Make Out Sessions, Implied Smut, and Maybe Some Grammar Errors. (Sorry if I forgot any)

Summary: Ethan has a darkside and when the girl he’s obsessed with decided to go on a fake date with another guy Ethan can’t help but let his darkside come out. But, what Ethan doesn’t know is that Y/N has a darkside of her own.

Inspired Song: DARKSIDE by Neoni

Word Count: 1,956

Author’s Note: Here is another Ethan story for all of you Ethan Girls and it’s even more special since it’s Ethan as Ghostface which I’ve only written one other time! I hope you all enjoy!!

Ever since the first day that Ethan met Y/N he immediately became obsessed with her. Since Y/N is roommates with Mindy and Ethan is roommate with Mindy’s twin brother Chad they both hang out with the same group of friends. Well, Ethan doesn’t refer any of them as his friends since the only reason why Ethan is in New York is to get revenge on Sam for murdering his brother which was a year prior in Woodsboro.

Ethan isn’t doing this revenge plan on his own. His sister Quinn is roommates with Sam and her little sister Tara, and his father is a detective at the NYPD. However, no one knows that Ethan is related to them so to keep that a secret he changed his last name to Landry while his sister and father changed their last name to Bailey, so no one knows that they are related to Sam’s ex-boyfriend.

Ethan knew the number one rule his father gave him, and Quinn was to not get attached to anyone. Ethan was doing fine with that rule till he met Y/N. Quinn did notice that Ethan was growing feelings for Y/N, and she told him was to be careful because if their dad finds out about is little crush, Y/N will be first on the slaughter list.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Friday night and Ethan was at the groups regular Friday night hangout with Tara and Chad. The hangout place is a restaurant that is right down the road from the college campus that they all go to. Ethan was sitting at a table with Tara and Chad who were sitting right across from him when Y/N finally showed up. “Hey, sorry I’m late.” Y/N said as she slid into the booth Ethan was sitting in. “It’s okay, we just sat down about five minutes ago.” Ethan reassured her.

“Where is Mindy?” Y/N asked in a curious tone. “Apparently she has a date with that girl Anika.” Tara told her which made Y/N roll her eyes. “She never fucking tells us anything.” Y/N said in annoyance as she started to look at the menu. “Better get used to it since that’s just how my sister is.” Chad told her.

“Why were you running late?” Ethan asked Y/N changing the subject since he doesn’t give a fuck about what’s going on with Mindy. “I ran into Max right after I got out of my last class.” Y/N answered keeping the annoyance in her voice. Ethan felt his blood boil right when Y/N said Max’s name.

Max is a guy who Y/N shares two classes with, and he’s been trying for two months to get Y/N to go out with him. He follows her around like a puppy dog and it drives Ethan fucking crazy. Even though Y/N has turned Max down thousands of times, he can’t help but get extremely jealous when he sees them together. Ever since the day Ethan laid eyes on Y/N he declared that he will be the only one that’s allowed to have her. He’s the only one that can have a romantic relationship with her. She belongs to him and only him.

“That simp is still trying to get you to go out with him?” Chad said looking up from the menu in his hands to look over at Y/N. “It’s like right when I walk into any building on campus, he’s right there waiting for me.” Y/N explained with little hint of anger in her voice. “It’s so fucking annoying!” Y/N added.

“I have an idea on how you can get Max to stop asking you out and leave you alone.” Tara told her putting the menu down flat on the table. “What is it?” Y/N asked her in a curious tone. “You’re not going to like it.” Tara told her in warning tone. “Tara, I am willing to do anything to make this little shit leave me the fuck alone.” Y/N told her in a stern tone. “You’re going to have to agree to go on one date with him.” Tara told her which made Ethan’s heart rate speed up. “Wait, so to get Max to leave her the fuck alone she has to go out on a date with the desperate simp?” Chad asked Tara with confusion. “I wasn’t finished.” Tara said giving him a quick side glare and then looked back at Y/N. “Agree to go on one date with him and during the date make it the worst date he’s ever been on to make him not want a second date.” Tara explained the idea. “So, I need to act like a total bitch to make him not want to go on another date with me?” Y/N asked her. “Yeah, pretty much.” Tara told her with a nod. “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan, so I’ll do it.” Y/N said which made Ethan’s heart drop to his feet.

He couldn’t believe that Y/N is going along with Tara’s plan. Yes, it’s going to be a fake date for Y/N, but Ethan’s jealousy couldn’t help but start to take over his body. Anything can happen during this so-called date. What if the date actually starts off good and it makes Y/N not want to do the plan anymore? What if Max charms her? Ethan knew that he has to talk her out of doing this plan. Ethan was too busy in his thoughts to notice that everyone was telling the waitress their order till Y/N said his name. “Oh, sorry!” Ethan said coming back to reality. Ethan told the waitress his order and then gave her the menu. “Okay, I’ll go put in your orders.” The waitress told them and walked away.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked Ethan with concern in her voice. “Yeah, just got a lot of Econ shit in my head.” Ethan answered her with a lie which did make her let out a giggle. “Don’t we all have college shit stuck in our heads.” Y/N told him. “It’s Friday. Those thoughts can wait till Monday.” Y/N told him putting her hand on top of his’s hand that was resting on the table. After Ethan gave her a nod she went back and to talking to Tara and Chad. She kept her hand on Ethan’s till their food came.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Monday morning and right when Ethan step onto the plaza of the college campus he saw Y/N talking to Max. He knew that Y/N just agreed to go on a date with Max by just the stupid ass grin on his stupid ass face. Jealousy quickly shot up Ethan’s body the same it did Friday night.

Max has been on Ethan’s death list for a while now. It took everything in Ethan to not go over there and kill that son of a bitch. It took everything in Ethan to not go over there and punch Max in the face and tell him that Y/N belongs to him. The only thing that made Ethan feel a little better was the fake smile Y/N was giving Max.

Right when Max walked away from her, she dropped the smile and Ethan quickly walked over to her. “You’re seriously going along with Tara’s stupid ass plan?” Ethan said to her trying his best to hide his jealousy. “I’m only going along with half of the plan.” Y/N told him which quickly confused Ethan. “What do you mean by only doing half of the plan?” Ethan asked her in confusion. “I’m going to welcome Max to my darkside.” Y/N told him as her lips curved up into a smirk.

Before Ethan could say anything else Y/N walked away from him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night Ethan was in the alley way next to Max’s apartment building in his Ghostface costume. He knows Y/N isn’t going to do what she’s planning till the date comes so Ethan is going to take Max out before the date. Plus, he doesn’t know what Y/N meant by showing Max her darkside. Ethan knows he’s playing with fire killing Max as Ghostface and if he gets caught it will ruin his families’s revenge plan, but he needs to make sure that this date never happens, and this is his only solution.

Ethan heard a car door close, so he perked out of the alley way and saw Max walk into the apartment building. Ethan knew it was go time so he started to make his way up the fire escape. When he got to the right fire escape, he quietly opened the window that was to Max’s bedroom. Before Ethan climbed through the window, he heard two-gun shots which made him jump. Ethan climbed through the window and quietly closed it.

Ethan made his way to Max’s living room to see Max laying in a pool of his own blood on the hard wood floor. Max had one gunshot wound to the chest and the other one right through the middle of his forehead. “What the fuck?” Ethan said with a mixture of confusion and shock in his voice. “Well, look what we have here.” Ethan heard a familiar voice say from behind him. When he turned around, he saw Y/N standing there holding a gun in her left hand.

“Really, Ethan? Ghostface? Are we in a fucking Stab movie?” Y/N asked him. Ethan took off his mask. “That’s a long story.” Ethan told her. “So, you have a darkside, too?” Y/N said looking him up and down. “Doesn’t everybody.” Ethan told her. “Agree to disagree.” Y/N told him. “I couldn’t wait till the date to show him my darkside.” Y/N said putting her gun away in the pocket that was inside her jacket.

“You know.” Y/N started as she walked closer to him. Ethan’s heart rate sped up at every step Y/N took towards him. “I never thought that Ghostface was sexy till now. Seeing you in this costume is really turning me on.” Y/N told him look up at him him with lust in her eyes. Y/N put her right hand flat on his chest and started rubbing it lightly which was quickly turning him on as well. Seeing this side of Y/N was making Ethan’s obsession grown more for her.

Before either one of them could start to lean in they heard police sirens. “Shit! They got called quicker than I thought!” Y/N hissed taking her hand off Ethan’s chest. “Come on!” Ethan said grabbing her hand. He led her into Max’s bedroom. “We can go down the fire escape.” Ethan told her letting go of hand to open the window. He let her climb through the window and then he followed her out onto the fire escape. After Ethan quietly shut the window, they carefully made their way down the fire escape.

When they got onto the ground it was Y/N’s turn to grab Ethan’s hand. Ethan let her drag him by the hand down the alley way to the back-alley way behind all of the buildings. They passed by five buildings to get to Y/N’s car that was parked in the back-alley way. Y/N let go of Ethan’s hand to get her car keys out of her pants pocket. After she unlocked her car Y/N got into the driver’s seat while Ethan got into the passenger seat.

Right after Ethan closed the car door Y/N grabbed him and smashed their lips together. It didn’t take long from the kiss to turn into a make out session. They continued to make out till they needed air.

“My place or yours?” Y/N asked him once she caught her breath. “Mine.” Ethan answered. Y/N started up her car. She backed out of the alley way and sped down the street.

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brbzonedout · 8 months

Text

Aaron asks Miles about you [part 1?]

summary: Aaron notices Miles talking to someone new and confronts him.

warnings: n-word (that's about it).

The loud engine of Aaron’s motorcycle roared in front of Miles’s school. Rio had asked him to drop of field trip permission forms that Miles forgot to grab that morning for the following Wednesday.

As he hopped off, students passed gawking at the sight of the sleek black matte finish on the bike.

Aaron made his way inside the school heading straight for the main office having been there a hundred times over.

He greeted the secretary with a three-finger wave as he walked towards the thin brunette woman sitting at the desk. While waiting for the lady to check the paper making sure everything is up to par Aaron scanned around the area being nosy as to what’s going on this the student and staff.

When scanning the hallway outside of the office door he noticed a boy with a familiar pair of braids and various pins on his backpack talking to someone in front of him.

Aaron raised an eyebrow surprised at the sight in front of him.

Miles was talking…

To a person…

Besides him or Rio…what the fuck is happening?

With a swift wave, Aaron dismissed himself from the office saying his goodbyes to the staff. He walked out of the door into the hall where the two kids were standing having a conversation he couldn’t quite make out.

While waiting for the conversation to end the man crossed his legs and leaned against the glass separating the office and the rest of the hall. After a minute or two of watching you two speak looked up to see him staring at you both.

As he caught your attention Aaron pointed to the boy in front of you signaling for you to tell him to turn around. Immediately understanding what he meant, you stopped Miles mid-conversation and gestured over to whom you assumed to be someone he knew.

With a roll of his eyes Miles turned around expecting it to be security telling them to get to the class but as he turned fully he mentally cursed himself.

The two of you met on the schools basketball court one day as you both had the idea to go after hours, later you came to realize you shared the same AP Language class.

You were the first person he enjoyed talking to after Jeffs's death a while back. He had even told his therapist about during a session. The only thing is he didn't tell Rio and Aaron. It's not that he didn't trust them but he knew exactly how they'd react with him finally putting himself out there again.

“You know him?” you asked curiously taking another look at the man. He waved and you waved back.

“Uh…yeah that's my uncle- I’ll hit you later ok? Ima go see what he wants.” the boy said walking backward trying to quickly end the conversation.

You tilted your head slightly confused why he was moving on so quickly but soon shrugged it off and made a mental note to check up on him later. As the boy walked away you said your goodbyes and went on your way.

Before you even got halfway down the hall Miles had already met Uncle Aaron at the office window.

“Hi,” he greeted the man clearly very flustered.

Aaron snorted and stood up straight. “Hi, That's it? Who was that?

“Who’s who?” the boy mentally face-palmed himself, apparently being a vigilante doesn't also make you a good liar.

“Really, lil nigga I changed your diapers…you don't think I know when you're lying?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Miles took a quick glance behind himself making sure you were out of earshot, “Someone I met in class one day, nun crazy.”

Lie number two.

Aaron rolled his eyes and gave a low chuckle, “Aight fine don't tell me, your mom know?”

Miles shrugged and shook his head. “There ain't nothing to know, I can't talk to a friend without it being a big thing now?”

“Oh, so y'all friends?”

“Acquaintances.” the boy said flatly.

“Mhm…well go to class and tell your acquaintance I said they needa lock up those shoes before I snatch 'em” Aaron held out his hand for a dap up.

Miles obliged and nodded, “I will let my acquaintance know that my 30-something-year-old uncle wants they shoes yes…”

Once the handshake was over Aaron gently pushed Miles’s head back signaling him to get going as they both laughed.

“Man get outta here…” he said sending his nephew down the hallway. “Aight catch you later.”

Part 2? Idk I just needed to write something to survive. Also if y'all have any tips on characterization feel free to drop them in the comments, thank you for reading!!

#across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miles morales #aaron davis #earth 42 miles morales #e!42 miles #e!42 miles morales #miles morales drabble #42 uncle aaron #e!42 uncle aaron #42 miles #miles g #42 aaron

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shubblelive · 1 year

Text

— MONDAY MORNING

summary : you'd always craved the idea of someone knowing and loving you completely. fortunately for you it seems like that person sits three rows ahead of you.

genre : fluff

warnings : reader's friends suck, also i self projected here shh you didn't see it

pairing : wilbur soot x reader, non-streamer, musician!wilbur uni au

pronouns : none (you yours)

featuring : uni student!musician!wilbur soot

word count : 1.5k

note : finished my first term of college so i thought i'd put something out. not super duper proud of this, but it's something. so here you go!! enjoy <3

you absolutely despised study groups. you weren’t a massive fan of studying, of course, but doing it in groups was the bane of your existence. if you were studying, you preferred to do it in the library. there were specific sections, marked with signs; a person talking in a big red circle with a line through it. headphones on, laptop open with your pathetic amount of coloured pens.

however, every monday morning before your 11 am lecture you found yourself in the student commons, spiral notebook on your lap, trying desperately to take notes and your friend would not shut up. she was going on about some girl she’d met at the bar the night before and you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“are you listening to me?” you weren’t, but she didn’t need to know that. you nodded, not looking up from your notes, and she apparently didn’t care enough to press, continuing on as if you weren’t even there. you had been friends with her since high school, and she’d introduced you to another two people you shared a class with. you weren’t particularly close with any of them, but they were the only people you knew.

if you weren’t studying, you were working uptown at marcel’s, the swankiest bar that would hire a uni student. it was classes, then waiting on finance men who weren’t rich enough to afford the good stuff. after that was a two hour bus ride home, then taking care of your mum before more schoolwork, and then collapsing into bed at one in the morning, only to wake up for more classes. your day punctuated with your tedious friends.

the timer on your phone went off, and you sighed. “i better go. have to talk to professor marks about the homework,”

they waved you off, barely even noticing your impending absence. you deflated a bit, but by the time you were out in the sun you felt a bit better. you’d been feeling somehow trapped and also invisible for the first twenty-odd years of your life. no one had ever seen you before, not like it didn’t in the movies. you’d been a comfortable level of lonely your entire life, and that didn’t change just because you now had a group of uni friends who shared the same ambitions as you.

but being out in the quad, with the breeze flowing through the grass, made you optimistic. there was two boys at a wooden picnic table, textbooks spread between them as they exchanged soft smiles and jokes about what they were working on. there was a group of people relaxing on the grass. a girl with headphones gazing at the clouds. a campus full of people just waiting to be befriended, and yet there you were. three years in, and still with the same group of people you didn’t click with.

you reached the building your next lecture was in, another twenty minutes until class started. the door was unlocked though, and you slipped inside quietly. professor marks was your favourite teacher, but she also wasn’t alone.

your class had about fifty students in it, so you didn’t know him by name, but you had seen the guy she was talking to. he sat in the middle of the room, answered enough questions to get the 5% participation grade but not enough that he got taken note of.

if someone had asked if you knew him, the best way to refer to him would be “the tall one.”

professor marks saw you and gave a chaste smile, turning back to your classmate to let him finish speaking. they talked for a few minutes, both nodding, before he stepped back politely to let you have your opening. however, before you got a chance to talk to her, her phone rang. “ugh,” she groaned, giving you a sympathetic look. “one second, so sorry.”

so you stayed there with what’s-his-name as your teacher stepped out of the room to take her phone call. you went to pull out your phone but got distracted by your classmate saying your name. you looked up at him, he gave you a sheepish smile. “sorry. that is your name, right? i didn’t get it wrong? that’d be embarrassing.”

you just nodded, hoping he would introduce himself. “i’m wilbur.” oh, how your prayers were answered for once. “i’ve seen you around. you’re in my geography class, aren’t you?”

god, you were embarrassing. you had noticed him in this class but not the other one. you nodded. “yeah, sorry. you’re wilbur. of course i know you. you’re in that band, right? they play in the quad sometimes?”

you were hoping it was the same wilbur. you remember thinking it was a weird name when you saw it on the poster. him and a few other names you didn’t recognise. surely there were not two people named wilbur in the one university, not with how old fashioned it was.

the relief was palpable when he nodded. “yeah! you’ve seen us play?”

“you guys are really good,” you weren’t lying this time. “you played cyberbully mom club.” wilbur’s eyes lit up. “i love them. you did a really good job. what are you doing taking geography courses when you can sing like that?”

he laughed, bring a hand up to the front of his face, fluffing his hair nervously. “someone of great taste i see. what about you? i saw one of your paintings in the exhibition in the hall. why aren’t you getting an art degree?”

you flushed, looking down. none of your friends even knew you painted, and yet there was wilbur. 6’6” wilbur with his los campesinos jumper and his scuffed doc martens, quietly loving your favourite bands and your art. “guess this just seemed right?”

“i get that. i’m a big believer of fate,” you looked back up towards him, his warm brown eyes already looking at yours behind his round glasses. people had started filtering in, and your friends were gesturing at you impatiently to come sit up the back with them. “you should go, your friends want you.”

“i don’t want them.”

you were sitting down on the end of the row before you even realised what you’d said. wilbur just laughed, taking his usual seat, eyes shining. you sat through the next ninety minutes, looking at the back of wilbur’s head.

“now, i’m going to let you guys pick groups for this project. three people, though. no groups of four. don’t even ask. i’ll give you the last fifteen minutes to work that out.”

great. a group of three. you didn’t even need to turn to your friends before they were muttering sorries, and you were stuck looking around the room for other people in your same predicament. you didn’t have to look for long, making eye contact with wilbur almost immediately. he waved you down and you hesitantly made your way down to his row.

“wanna work together?” his smile was so bright that you couldn’t even think of turning him down. he was charming, he liked the same things as you. but more than that, he saw you. he saw you better than your friends over the last three plus years did.

“i’d like nothing more, will.” you replied, and wilbur grinned. “you sure, though? you probably have other friends in this class.”

“i do,” he admitted. “however, i want to get to know you better, and i was hoping this might give me an excuse to ask you out. or, if that’s not something you’re interested in, then you are also more than welcome to join me and a few of my friends in the courtyard after class, purely platonic.”

his words were quick, but you understood every syllable. you didn’t have time to meet after class, you had a rare hour off after your last class before you needed to grab the bus to marcel’s. “i would love to, but i have work every day this week, and next week. and every week, and the bus is hours long. i’m sorry.”

wilbur nodded. “if this is your way of letting me down gently, i totally understand that. uh, but-”

“no,” you said quickly. “it is. i work seven days a week, it’s not you,” he didn’t seem convinced, still convinced you were trying to be polite. he didn’t want you to lie to him if you truly weren’t interested. you’d had one conversation, but he felt giddy when you made eye contact with him. it was dumb, probably, but he really wanted to know you better. he didn’t want to press you. you could see that, so you tried again. “however, i think my schedule’s just become more open.” you glanced upwards at where your friends were sitting a few rows back. “i’m free monday morning?”

wilbur’s face lit up, still hesitant. “you sure? because if you’re not interested then it’s fine, really. i won’t give you a hard time about it. promise. you can still meet my friends, if you’d like. or if you want to we can pretend that the other person doesn’t exist.”

“no.” you said decidedly. “i’m free monday morning, and i would love if we could meet somewhere?”

he smiled at you. “i can’t wait.” you’d never looked forward to homework so much, and from the bright look on wilbur’s face, he hadn’t either.

#wilbur #wishing i could write my name on it #wilbuh #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot

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weridpersonhelp · 1 year

Text

CASA BONITA PT2

KYLE X READER!

Description: Y/n tries to find the best gift to give to Kyle for his birthday, getting help from her best friend butters. Y/n becomes a little closer to the gang. :)

Warning: Swearing, Fluff, Sad, color coded a little.

_________________________________________________

"guy's I need help." I ask sitting down at the girl lunch table and just like that I had all of their attention on me.

" what's up Y/n?" Wendy asks.

"okay so I was invited to Kyle's birthday for Casa Bonita.-"

"CASA BONITA!!' "LUCKY!"

"OMG i WISH!"

"SO COOL!"

the girls gawk at this information, this was a shock. I had only moved to America a couple month ago so was still getting use to some cultural norms.

"What is Casa Bonita and what do I get Kyle for his birthday?" I ask the girls.

"Casa Bonita a super awesome mexican resturant" Bebe started

"Yeah! they have cliff divers, puppet shows, forever lasting food!" Nichole continues

"and they even have photoshoots you can do with friends. it's the best!" Hidi finishes I nod but sigh again.

"Okay that's done but what do I get Kyle for his birthday? he told me not to get him anything, but It would be way too weird!" I explain they all hum in agreement and we all start thinking.

"What were you thinking of getting him Y/n?" Wendy asks me I feel my cheeks heat up for some odd reason when she asked.

"Umm I was going it knit him a scarf with his favioute-" "Kyle probably already has a lot of stuff like that! Plus, he's loaded Y/n he could buy one whenever he wants" Hidi says.

"yeah, he took me too a basketball game in another town for a date!" Nichole says they all agree.

"he's loaded?"

"Yeah, all Jew's are! aren't there any jews in Australia?" Bebe asks me.

"Well of course there are, but their quite rare I've actually never met a Jew before Kyle. I wasn't really taught about it."

"don't worry about its Y/n, you can't make him a scarf do you know what he likes?" Bebe asks me, it took me minute to think...

"Umm, Terriance and Philp but everyone likes that! wait! he loves video games like guitar hero!"

"Nice why not get him something like that then?"

"Okay, then. thanks guys!" And like that the topic changed instantly but the question was still on my mind, should I get him something with video games? he probably already has stuff like that.

"You alright Y/n?" Wendy asks I nod my head and sigh.

"You know, personally I feel like Kyle would like the scarf better." this catches my attention.

"How so?"

"OH, just a feeling" She winks at me giggles and goes back to eating, we all catch up and soon enough it was class time.

__________________________________________________----

I walk onto the bus and make my way down Kyle waves back I sit across from his ale next to butters. Butters and I got along well, apparently, we have familiar attuites to life or that's what craigs say. Butters was a cool dude we play video games together at his sometimes.

"Butter's, I need your help."

"Well, whatever you need I'm here!" He says, I glance to Kyle who was talking to Kenny and Stan, he almost catches my eyes before I turn my back to him to face. butters.

"I don't know what to get Kyle for his birthday, I was going to knit him a scarf. But then the girls said he's rich and won't want that and to get him a video game."

"Oh boy that is a tough one!"

"Yeah! So, I wanted to know what you're getting him!" I ask my friend.

"Well, I was just going to get him. something with Philp and Terriance, like a T-shirt or a plush maybe I'm still thinking about it. But I mean Kyle already has a lot of winter clothes, so I think the video games are a good idea!" Butters explains I nod but then he starts talking again.

"But then again, I love the mittens you made me, I wear them all the time! there in my bag right now! So, Kyle might like the scarf better! oh man this is a hard one. I'm sorry Y/n." Butter apologies, you pat you friends shoulder a little and give him a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry butters, but thanks anyways I'll probably just ask craig if he's not too busy."

"I though you where g-going the Kyles tonight too play games?"

"Oh fuck-" I quickly turn around to Kyle and see if the bus driver is paying. attention.

I jump seats to Kyles quickly, as soon as a speed bump came. Kyle jumps slightly at this.

"Y/n? You shouldn't move seats the bus drivers going to get mad!"

"I know, sorry Kyle but I need to cancel our plans! just for today can we move it too tomorrow?" I ask him he seemed shocked but gives me a nod.

"Thanks Kyle! I know you love your schedules and I'm super sorry for cancelling last minute. seriously dude."

"Yeah, it's fine, but is it okay if I ask why?"

I freeze I can't tell him the reason I am cancelling is go to shopping with Craig for a gift for him.

"Oh, Craige needs help with something- it's a family thing you know! anyway, thank dude" I go sit on the very edge of the seat and wave the butters, who smiles back. but Kyle pulls me back to him by the back of my jumper.

"Umm, you shouldn't move because you'll get in trouble..." the boys cheeks where a little red and mine where heating up a little at this for some reason.

"I guess." silence appeared and was very hard not to feel Awkard by it,

"Kyle what's your favioute video game?"

"I love guitar hero, but I really want this game called Minecraft I'm hoping my parents get it for my birthday.!" we started to talk of video games, then our grades and how our day was and soon enough it was mine and Craigs stop.

"Bye Tweek, come on Y/n!" Craig says catching my attention.

"Okay Bye Kyle! see ya tomorrow.!" I say and grab my bag from butter seat.

"bye butters!"

"bye, Y/n be safe!"

I walk pass Tweek and wave bye to the boy with a smile, he smiles and waves back. and we get of the buss.

"Craig how was your day?"

"It was good, why arn't you going to kyles again?" he asks me as we enter his house.

"Hey kids how were school?!" Aunty asks.

"Good thanks Aunty!" I call entering the house.

"Craige, I need your help! what do I get Kyle for his birthday?" I ask him.

"I don't know, what were you thinking" Craig could read me like a book, and I follow him up to his room as we continue talking.

"I was going to Knit something for him, but the girls said he probably won't like it and I should play it safe and get him this video game called Minecraft or something! But Wendy said I should knit him something! and Butter couldn't help me! And I'm slightly freaking out!" I blurted it all out, he just stands there...

"Just take a deep breath, Your gonna be fine. Kyle will be happy with whatever you get him, don't start stressing over something silly." he walks me to his bed I sigh and I sit on it and breath like Craige told me.

"Okay, thank you Craig. but what do you think?" craig sits next to me and thinks, I wait patiently for my cousin.

"I think you should knit him that scarf you're really talented at that, when's the party?"

"This Saturday, 5:30 I already texted Aunty about it."

"Yeah, that should be enough time to knit him a scarf, He's going to like it Y/n. I mean I love the hat you gave me; I wear it everywhere." he points to his hat which makes me smile thinking of when I made him it. his old one was wearying out and getting too small so I made him one so the next time we came to America he could have it. It's weird to think I live in it and with him now. Waiting for my parents to finish the move before and buy a house in south park.

"Thanks, Craige You're the best cousin I could have asked for."

_____________________________________________________

Y/n was 15 minutes early when they pulled up to Kyles house. Y/n waves goodbye to her Aunty after dropping her off. She walks up to the door and knock. A woman with big red hair and a blue dress opens the door.

'So, this is Kyles mum?'

"Ooh hello their! you must be one of Kyles friends! I'm Sheila nice to meet you. Your here early! KYLE YOUR FRIENDS HERE EARLY!"

"It's nice to meet you ma'am, I apologies if I'm late- "No, no. your fine come in! Your actually early! it's lovely to meet you.

"Oh, what a polite young girl! it's lovely to meet you Y/n!" when she got in she saw stan and Kenny their as well.

"Y/n! Glade you made it!" "Happy birthday Kyle! hey guys!" I greet them.

"hey Y/n"

"hey Y/n, how you going?"

"excited I've never been to Casa Bonita before!"

"what they don't have a Casa Bonita in Australia?"

"No, so I'm excited to see one. All the girls told me it's fun."

"You'll love it! it's fucking cool!" I chuckle a little at kenny.

"hey I said not to get me anything!" kyle says notcing the small box I was holding it was so tiny compared to the other boys gifts.

"Sorry! I couldn't help it. It would be werid if I didn't get you a gift kyle. It's your birthday after all."

"Seriously you didn't have too." their was a small silence Kyle looked handsome in his suit, though his green hat stood out. You didn't question it.

"bu-bu-bu-bu" Ike voice was heard from down the hall as the little boy walks down the hall when he enters the room, he enters and made his way to the boy's and Y/n though no one had noticed yet.

"So Y/n do you go to the same school as the boys?" Sheila asks you.

"Yeah I only joined like a month or two ago- huh?" you feel something wrap around your legs and see a tiny little boy their hugging your leg.

"IKE GET BACK HERE! SORRY SHEILA HE GOT AWAY!" a man with a jewish hat on his head.

"IS this your brother kyle?" Y/n asks kyle who sighs at his little brother.

"Yeah, Ike come here-" "NO!" he shouts, Kyle eye brows cross.

"Ike come on-" "NOOOO!" he screams Y/n chuckles at how frusterated kyle was getting.

"Kyle your brother got a crush on Y/n!" Stan teases, making kenny burst out laughing.

"hi Ike could you let go of me for a second please? just a second." And like that Ike obeys your request you kneel down to his hight and pick the boy up.

"Your brother adorable Kyle!" "NONONONONONONONO!" Ike shouts making Kenny laugh harder and stan chuckle. even Kyles mum joined in a little.

"isn't that adorable Kyle! Your brother likes your little friend!" Kyle bit his tongue at the scene as his father tried to take back ike, but he gripped onto your dress tightly hidding his face in your neck.

"I'm so sorry about this?"

" Y/n nice to meet you sir." the mans eyes widden slightly.

"You have very good manners young lady, but I am sorry about Ike Shelia could you?"

"come on Ike let the poor girl go!" Ike lets go of your and heads to his mother, You give an awkard smile at this. as Ike is passes off to Kyle's dad.

"It was lovely meeting you Y/n," "you too sir." "oh just Gerald! anyway have fun boys!"

___________________________________________

by now everyone was there, Kenny, stan me, Kyle. Everyone but butters. which was weird, butters were normally on time for these things.

Kyle was pacing the room while waiting for butters.

"so, what did you guys get Kyle?" I ask

"A new video game Minecraft the one he wanted and some other games."

"I got him a controller for his Xbox."

Y/n thinks about their gift they were pricier than mine they probably thought about it longer. Maybe I shouldn't give him the gist? no that would look rude now!

"what did you get him?"

"umm-"

"Where are butters? we were supposed to leave 40 minutes ago!" Kyle asks looking down at his watch.

"Well, I think we just go without him Kyle! it's getting late!" his mum says.

"Yeah, screw him let's go." Kyle says We quickly get ready to leave, when the doorbell rang.

"Oh, there he is!" Kyle goes to open the door, and none other than Cartman appears. to be honest I was not impressed.

"Happy birthday Kyle I just wanted to stop by and give you your present." cartman says Kyle took his present and I couldn't help but role my eyes at this. he obviously did something to come. it's cartman were talking about here! the whole scene I was just giving him a side eye. then butter parents came looking for him. I was shocked, and scared for my friend Butters. Where could he of gone?! I only just saw him friday!

"Dude I can't have a part while butters are missing that weird." Kyle

cartman tries to convince him otherwise almost slipping up.

"How about we go looking for him?"

"Yeah, he always by starks pound he's always over their!" stan add we all cheer and Sheila says she will drive us.

"I hope butters okay." I mutter under my breath as we get into the car

"I'm sure he's fine Y/n, w-we'll just keep. looking.

"Yeah!"

"don't worry Y/n we'll find him." the guy's words make you smile a little, you didn't hang out with this gang much normally with your cousin craig and his gang or with Wendy's. You and butters being super close thanks to your similar personality's.

You sure hope he is okay. :(

_____________________________________

okay i'm tired night comment if you want a part 3

#kyle x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle brovlofski #south park #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #eric cartman #casa bonita #cartman #butters south park #craig x tweek #south park tweek #sp tweek #butters #wonder tweek #south park x reader

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selenitesdawn · 2 years

Text

Arcade Rivals (pt.2)

first part here

pairing : max mayfield x reader

warnings : curse words, and it’s quiet long

summary : two very competitive arcade players get their game on.

notes : this was a request <3

third person pov

Seems like I get another clue. This time I want a real clue. Tell me what class you’re in. Or what you look like. Otherwise I will beat your score on every single machine in this arcade. - MAD max

———————

“A person you always walk past in school?”, El asked her best friend on the phone.

“Apparently so. At least that’s what the note said. It wasn’t very helpful. Like.. at all.”, Max huffed annoyed, tipping her index finger repeatedly against the wall.

“Why don’t you just start looking at everyone you walk past then?”, El replied blatantly.

“That’s not gonna help El. They didn’t tell me what they look like. I have a higher chance of finding the person by recognizing the handwriting.”, Max stated, sitting down against the wall.

She once again grabbed the note that laid next to her, trying to find any other clues. The paper was wrinkled by now, some of the letters already fading. There wasn’t anything on the paper besides the note, no matter how many times Max checked. The letters didn’t form any type of secret message. It was just a plain and simple text. Max got up and pinned the note on her pinboard since she didn’t want it to get any more ruined. After that she sat back down on the floor.

“But you won at Pac Man right? So there will be another clue tomorrow.”, El tried to cheer Max up.

“Yes I know. I’m just really impatient. I want to know who it is soo badly.”, Max whined.

The redhead twirled the telephone cord around her fingers while starring at the ceiling. Talking to El was a great feeling. Max had missed her best friend like crazy since she moved away. Still they didn’t talk much lately. Today was actually the first time in a while that Max had called El back. She was just so lost in her thoughts about the stranger for the past days, that she needed someone to talk with.

The mysterious person went to the same school as her. That was foreseeable. But she still had no idea who it could be. Do they have classes together? Did she ever talk to them? Max’s train of thought was interrupted by her best friend.

“Do you like them?”, El asked curiously.

Max’s eyes widened at the question. How could she ever like someone whom she didn’t even know. ‘That’s impossible, right?’ Her eyes went back to the note on her wall. Now that she thought about it, she did get a funny feeling inside whenever she thought about them.

‘But that’s just because it’s another mystery. It’s an exciting feeling to have a worthy opponent. And they are funny. And their notes are cute. They also have an adorable handwriting. And even that stupid name is kind of cute. And the fact that they sent an employee to me is so stupidly adorable. They are probably beautiful too and attentive and supportive and romantic-‘

“Fuck. Maybe I do like them.”, Max breathed out.

El smiled at the other end of the line. Her best friend actually got soft for someone. She couldn’t help herself but tease Max about it, who quickly shut her off.

“Okay stop El, I shouldn’t like them. That’s so stupid. They probably don’t even spend time thinking about me at all, they just want to beat me.”, Max answered in a sad tone.

“They like you Max. I am sure of it. How could one not like you?”, El said smiling.

Max smiled to herself, happy about El’s words. After all she was still there for Max. Nothing changed about their special bond, which made Max regain a lot of strength and security. They kept talking on the phone until it got late.

“Thanks El. It was nice talking to you. Sorry for not… being here.”, Max quietly admitted.

“It’s okay Max. I’m happy you called. And I’ll always be here if you need me. I promise.”, El answered in a soft tone.

The next day after school, Max made her way to the arcade once again. As she entered, Derek greeted her and waved her over. Max was confused at first but walked towards him anyways.

“There are multiple letters for you Mad Max. One was at Pac Man, one at Dig Dug, one at Donkey Kong and another one at Defender. It was a pain in the ass to keep other people from opening them. So I collected them instead.”, he said as he handed over the letters.

“Thanks Derek.”, was the only thing she said before she left with the letters.

Her tummy was filled with butterflies, a feeling of excitement rising in her chest. The letters were beautifully sealed with wax and a stamp, dried flowers stuck between the wax and the paper. Each one had “MADMAX” written on it with a red pen. It ultimately looked like a lot of work.

‘What an idiot.’, she thought to herself while grinning, opening the letters carefully. Usually Max was the type of person who just ripped letters open. But this time she wanted not a single one to go to waste.

Hey my favorite Max. I hope you are well. Your Pac Man score has been outdone.

Max smiled to herself. She knew this person would be able to beat her. After all they were one of the best players she had ever played against. And the only one who even came close to her abilities.

It was odd, but Max Mayfield was actually happy about someone defeating her. She even felt kind of proud.

Since you threatened to trump all of my scores, I decided to beat your Dig Dug score. I hope that’s cool with you.

As she read the second letter her eyes grew wide. She walked over to the Dig Dug machine and checked for the high score. Sane Max was telling the truth. They somehow beat the score. Worriedly that she didn’t get a clue yet, she opened the third letter.

Here is your clue. I just recently moved to Hawkins. To be precise, I moved here 5 months ago. We go to the same school but don’t share any classes.

Max squeezed her eyes together. The clue wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either. She didn’t know anyone who had moved here recently. And there was no way to find out, unless she asked every single student she didn’t know.

Last but not least. I have an offer. Break every single high score I set and I’ll meet you after school at 12:10 at the stone bench in front of the main complex. “Sounds good?” - (first letter of y/n)

That was Max’s chance. Her chance to not only find out who that person was, but to meet and talk to them. It was exciting but for some reason scary at the same time. Max’s mind got flooded with doubts. What if the person she created in her mind was a creep in real life? What if they met and things would be weird? What if they don’t even like Max in person?

As she took one last look at the messages, all her doubts washed away. From the color of the inscription to the dried flowers sealed underneath the wax. It wasn’t just a ripped out paper from a notebook. These were beautiful, mindful letters. Max sighed silently. She doesn’t remember the last time someone has done something as thoughtful and adorable as this for her.

“But I hate Defender.”, the redhead mumbled annoyed.

She put the letters in her backpack and put it next to the Dig Dug machine. After cracking her knuckles and neck for a good minute, she started playing the game. Max was determined to win, but at the same time it felt almost impossible to do so. Still she had the goal of meeting the mysterious person, which was at the back of her mind the entire time.

After literal hours Max stood in front of the Defender machine. Her head hurt by now, her hands were sore from all the gaming. She broke every score. From Dig Dug, to Pac Man to Donkey Kong. But Defender just didn’t seem to work for her. She’s been in front of that machine for two hours now. But no matter how much she tried, she just couldn’t do it.

As she was getting more and more frustrated, she sat down on a chair at the back of the arcade and put her head in her hands. Until now it was all fun and games. But the pressure of beating all the scores and the strong desire to meet the person behind all of this just got tiring.

“Hey Mad Max. You alright?”, a familiar voice asked in front of her.

Max looked up and rolled her eyes.

“Obviously it’s not Derek. I just can’t seem to break that stupid score at Defender. I hate hate hate this stupid game.”, she replied annoyed, sinking into the chair.

Derek sat himself on a chair next to Max.

“Hmm, did the letters say you have to break the Defender score today? Or why are you trying so hard?”, he asked worriedly.

Max stayed quiet. Strictly speaking, the letters gave no time limit. So she could still try to beat the score tomorrow. Her headache made it hard for her to focus at all, she wouldn’t be able to win today anyways.

“Look. My shift is over now. It’s already 8pm. You’ve been here since six hours Max. I think you should just try tomorrow.”, he said as he got up from his chair.

It felt like giving up somehow. It felt like losing. And that feeling of losing was unfamiliar to Max. At least when it came to the arcade. She lost a lot in the past because she didn’t try hard enough. And she would still blame herself for it every single day. Somehow that feeling transferred to this entire competition but now Max had to step back for a moment.

“I’m sure Sane Max wouldn’t want that. You reached your capacity for today, and that’s alright. They would understand.”, Derek tried to cheer her up.

Max looked up to him and tried to give him a small smile. She got up right after and threw her backpack over her shoulder.

“You’re right. I’ll just try tomorrow.”, she decided.

She left the arcade unsatisfied, but she knew that doing anything else right now would be just crazy. Spending six hours in front of a screen wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing to do.

Her way home cleared her mind again, the wind and fresh air easing her headache. When she got home she laid in bed and read through the letters again. Her heart fluttered with every word, her smile never leaving her lips. She called El again that night, telling her about everything that had happened.

The next day Max sat in front of school, on the stone bench, at 12:10. She knew that she didn’t meet the requirements for the meeting, but she still liked to think that her greatest enemy and greatest crush might have sat just where she was sitting right now.

A fresh breeze hit her face again, just in the same way it did the first day she got to know SANEMAX. Smiling to herself, Max understood that whatever happens with that person know, they helped Max overcome weeks of depression, sadness and anxiety. It was a true miracle. Especially after everything that had happened.

After lingering in this moment just a little longer, Max got up to make her way to the arcade again. She had a good feeling about today. Maybe she would even manage to beat the Defender score. But just as she grabbed her skateboard and turned around, she bumped into someone.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry.”, she apologized repeatedly.

The person in front of her dropped all of their things due to the collision, leaving the entire ground scattered with books and notebooks. Max wasted no time crouching down, collecting everything.

“No worries. It’s fine.”, the person above her reassured her while smiling.

As Max piled up all the stuff, she got up again. This time she looked at the person in front of her for the first time. They smiled at her, their face relaxed, showing no sign of anger. ‘Wow. They are…beautiful’, Max thought to herself. She started blushing a little, getting more nervous by the minute.

“Uhm, I’m… Max. I mean, I’m sorry! For bumping into you.”, Max stammered nervously.

“I know. Both things.”, the other person replied softly.

Max furrowed her eyebrows. She didn’t remember meeting that person ever before. So how did they know her name?

Just then she noticed that she still had the person’s things in her hands. As she was about to hand them over, she took a quick glance at the notebook on top of the pile.

“No way.”, she mumbled quietly, just loud enough for the person in front of her to hear.

It was the same handwriting. The handwriting she had memorized for hours and hours. The handwriting which made her smile, her heart flutter, her days better and her nights calmer.

“My name is y/n, by the way.”

Max looked up and started blushing uncontrollably. Whatever she had imagined until then, whatever person she had created inside her mind, y/n just exceeded all of her expectations. Their eyes sparkled like none she had ever seen before. Their face was soft, giving Max a feeling of safety. Although she was nervous, she felt comfortable. It was magical. Y/n’s soft lips formed a contagious smile, making Max smile right back.

“Nice to meet you y/n.”, Max said as she handed y/n their stuff back. “But I-….”

“Didn’t beat my Defender score? I know.”, y/n replied smiling.

Max tilted her head a little, waiting for y/n to give an explanation.

“Honestly, I just really wanted to meet you. I didn’t expect you to beat all the scores.”, y/n said as they put all their stuff inside their backpack. “I didn’t even expect you to beat one of them.”

Max raised her eyebrows, her mouth open in shock.

“Excuse me?”, Max replied fake-offended.

Y/n got up and grinned.

“Yeah, I just thought it would be fun to challenge you.”, they said as they shrugged.

“Seems like you have to be reminded who the real champion of the arcade is.”, Max commented in a challenging tone.

“If you say so. You and I. Tonight at 7pm. Sounds good?”, y/n suggested.

“Sounds good. I’ll be there.”, Max replied smiling.

“It’s a date then. See you at 7.”, y/n finally said as they turned around and walked towards the bus stop.

Max blushed again, shyly chewing on her bottom lip. She managed to give y/n a goodbye wave without falling onto her knees right there and then. But something inside of her still had other plans.

“Y/n?”, Max suddenly shouted.

Y/n turned around and stopped in their tracks as they saw a smiling Max running towards them. She embraced them in a tight and warm hug. Now it was y/n’s turn to blush, surprised by the sudden affection. Max didn’t want to let go any time soon, enjoying the presence of the person in her arms.

“Thank you so much. For everything.”, she whispered softly, still holding onto y/n. She even started sobbing a little, overwhelmed by her emotions.

A smile formed on y/n’s face, knowing that whatever they did for her, she had done just the same for them.

“I think I have to thank you, love.”, y/n replied softly.

As y/n’s bus came, Max reluctantly let go of them. Before saying their final goodbye, Max couldn’t help herself but place a soft kiss on y/n’s cheek. Both of their faces were tainted red, their hearts beating at the same fast pace. From this moment on they had a mutual understanding about what they meant to each other.

Not long after their first meeting, they became a couple. Most of their dates still took place at the arcade, but Max wasted no time introducing y/n to her friend circle. She introduced them as the coolest person ever and the second champion of the arcade. Emphasizing the word second. They would spend as much time together as possible. Max was painting on all of y/n’s shoes and y/n was painting on Max’s skateboard in return. They went to buy comic books together, and Max even trusted y/n with her rarest comic books of all time. They had endless sleepovers and y/n even persuaded Max to play DnD with the others.

But what ultimately made this connection as special as it was, is that y/n saved Max from her depression. She told y/n about everything that had happened in the past, trusting them with her biggest secrets. And they were there for her. They listened and they comforted her. And most importantly, they helped her forgive herself.

Them finding each other was fate. Or what Max would always call it:

“It was a miracle.”

A/N: I know this was loooong but thank you so much for reading. I hope you’re happy with the ending and enjoyed the story. <3

#stranger things reader insert #stranger things x reader #max mayfield x reader #max mayfield x you #max mayfield imagine #maxine mayfield

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comphy-and-cozy · 2 years

Text

Third Time’s the Charm - Tyson Jost

Pairing: Tyson Jost x plus sized!Reader (f)

Summary: Tyson Jost has been your best friend since you were kids. After a drunken hookup, you thought you’d lost him forever - that is, until he gets traded to the Minnesota Wild, conveniently the city in which you now reside. Will the former flame return when you reunite, or has the time changed everything forever?

Word Count: 11.1K

Author’s Note: I wrote this for @jostystyles for @antoineroussel's Summer Fic Exchange! I had an absolute blast writing this, and I tried to factor in as many of Emmie’s requests as I could (including several appropriately-placed Harry mentions, of course). Hope you enjoy, and happy belated birthday, sweetness! Also huge s/o to Demi for beta reading and daydreaming over Tys with me. ☺️🖤

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY) and angst (but a happy ending I promise). Alcohol use/mention and drunk hookup reference, language, plus sized body insecurity/themes, mutual pining, mentions of The Trade, oral sex (m + f receiving), protected sex, (1) overused trope, and multiple Harry Styles references.

Masterlist

Part 1: The Reunion

It was like any other Tuesday when you got the news, scrolling Twitter on your lunch break when a headline caught your eye.

BREAKING: TYSON JOST TRADED TO WILD BY AVALANCHE FOR NICO STURM

The name struck you, familiar and foreign all at once. You hadn’t seen him in years, and outside of the occasional birthday text or Instagram message, you hardly spoke to him, either. But here he was, apparently moving to Minnesota all the same.

When you were kids, you were inseparable. On your first day of kindergarten, you had burst into tears immediately upon walking into the school. A small, dark haired boy with curly hair walked right up to you, gave you a hug, and took your hand, leading you to your classroom with a smile. That boy was Tyson Jost. You hadn’t known it yet, but he would soon become your first — and best — friend.

He was your first kiss on the playground in the 3rd grade, blushing in the alcove of the slide on the jungle gym. A girl in your class dared you to do it, and you were determined, marching right up to him and kissing him on the mouth, before sticking your tongue out at him and sliding down the spiral slide.

In middle school, you went to your first dance with another boy, but ended the night in tears and outside on the swings with Tyson when you caught your date kissing someone else. The next dance, you went with Tyson platonically, awkwardly swaying while his hands rested firmly on your upper hip, looking anywhere but in your eyes.

When he moved away to British Columbia to go to the hockey academy, you’d cried for a week, the loss insurmountable to your teenage self. Despite being hours away from your best friend, you’d talked every night on the phone, trying to act like nothing had changed, keeping each other abreast of the updates in your day.

But, over time, those phone calls became less frequent, and the updates became more vague. Tyson got busier with travel and was being seriously scouted, and you were involved with your own studies and extracurriculars. Tyson was never gone completely, though – you worked part time at the concession stand of the local hockey rink, and every dark haired boy that ordered chicken fingers had him dancing across your mind, wondering what he was doing, fingers twitching to send him a text.

Things changed even more once he got drafted to the Avalanche. Despite the distance that had grown between you through the years, disappointing but understood by both of you as part of life, you still made the invite list for his first NHL game, sitting with his mom and sister in the stands. In celebration of the thrilling shootout win, you later ended the night tangled with Tyson in the sheets, a drunken and awkwardly not-that-awkward hook up that transformed your relationship forever.

Since that night, you hadn’t spoken. You’d slipped out of the bed and disappeared too early for him to wake up and put the pieces together, and the lack of phone call, text, pigeon carrier confirmed your beliefs that it was a stupid, terrible mistake that cost the both of you a best friend.

You hadn’t seen him since that night either, only the occasional update on his Facebook or Instagram, but you knew he was looking good – better than you ever remember him looking, the professional training certainly doing excellent things for his physique. You’d never really processed that night with him, having never really looked at him like that, because he was just… Tyson. Not NHL player Tyson Jost, not playboy extraordinaire, just Tyson, your friend.

And that’s what he was when you sent him a text, the ‘would love to catch up over lunch!’ masking the apprehension in the thumb that hovered over the send button for longer than you’d care to admit. Was he still just Tyson? Had his years in the NHL, making millionaire money, traveling all across the globe changed him from that curly-headed little boy you’d met all those years ago? Did the night between the sheets, whispers of his name falling from your lips while his hands danced over your body, change who he was to you?

Tyson got the text as he was scrolling through Instagram, searching his recent following for some new Minnesota prospects, replacing the slew of Denver girls he could hit up when he needed a night horizontal. Blonde, brunette, redhead, curvy, thin, busty — he didn’t discriminate.

He was 3 months deep in a girl’s feed, a blonde with the middle name ‘Rose’, when his eyes flicked up to the top of his screen, blinking a moment to register the name he was no longer accustomed to seeing texts from. Immediately, he abandoned whatshername to read the message you’d sent him, eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise at the lunch invitation.

Truthfully, he’d completely forgotten that you were in Minnesota — working in Minneapolis, if he remembered correctly from a Facebook post months ago. He was delighted to hear from you, pushing away the pang of guilt he always felt whenever you crossed his mind; he regretted the way that he’d let you slip away and out of his life. He hadn’t meant to; you were never meant to be the kind of friend that turned into a childhood best friend, but life had happened and before he knew it, that’s what you had become.

He’d be lying if he said that night didn’t still cross his mind, never speaking of it aloud. He remembered waking up alone, the faded smell of your perfume still lingering on the pillow beside him. No note, no text, no nothing — just gone, vanished from your life like it never happened. He assumed you’d left with regret in your heart, the forbidden act between two friends an invisible line crossed in thousands of ways, so he never reached out. Never called, never said anything, just letting the memory fade.

Setting up lunch was easy, a few friendly texts exchanged before deciding on a time and place. New to the city, he followed your suggestion and said he’d show up wherever you told him to. When the day came, you were almost embarrassed at the anxiety that bubbled inside of you, the kind of anticipation that made you change your shirt three separate times to make sure you exuded the right amount of not-trying-too-hard-but-still-cute-enough-that-you-know-I’ve-got-my-shit-together. Fortunately, Tyson’s easygoing nature made the initial greeting more natural than if you had led it, not knowing if a hug was inappropriate after all of the years of half-assed birthday texts and the unspoken elephant in the room. He’d scooped you up into his arms before you’d barely managed to get a “hey” out, and you immediately took comfort in his proximity.

The warm up was a bit uncomfortable, despite the all-too-easy softball questions that came with a reunion like this, the how have you been?s, how’s your mom?s, what are you doing for work now?s. Deep down, you both knew that you shouldn’t have to be answering these questions, that it felt counterintuitive with someone who once knew you inside and out. Still, you answered them in stride, giving him the updates he needed and easily making the transition to his very recent move to Minnesota and, simultaneously, his farewell to Denver.

When he told you about JT, you were surprised that there was no inkling of jealousy, rather, comfort knowing that he’d found someone else to take your place, to be that anchor for him in the new phase of his life — and certainly, you thought, someone that would never cross the physical line you had, betraying the friendship you’d built over many years in the course of one drunken night. It was not, and would never be, a competition, and you harbored no resentment at how things had turned out. You couldn’t help but wonder what JT was like — did he have the same sense of humor as you? What was their favorite thing to do together? Were you friends with the same Tyson?

With each laugh, each new quality revealed, you felt the invisible barrier between you breaking down slowly, still seeing flashes of the same Tyson you once confided in for everything, comforted to know that not everything had changed. All of it was surface conversation, though, and you both knew it. It was a strange feeling, to be sitting in front of someone so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time, like riding a bike and remembering how to steer, pedal, and balance all at once, before the muscle memory kicks in.

“D’you remember that time that you fell in the frozen pond by your house?” he asked, out of the blue, as you were taking a sip of your water.

Boom. There went the barrier, the remaining fragments tumbling down into a heap on the table, shattered in an instant.

“Oh my god, that was so terrifying!” you exclaimed, shaking your head at the memory. “I thought I was going to drown right then and there. It was so cold, and I freaked out. And then when we got back to my house and I was shivering and soaked, you told my mom —“

“—it’s all in the past, Miss Lynn!” he finished, causing you to double over, nodding as you laughed.

“To this day, whenever that comes up, my mom still says that you saved my life. You were the one who told me not to panic and to swim slowly,” you said once the giggles had subsided.

“Yeah, I never got a Boy Scout badge for that one,” he grinned.

The memories came out naturally, laughing jovially as you recalled each one with fondness and the fair share of giggles, the nostalgia what you needed to solidify the reconnection. Before you knew it, you realized you’d been there for three hours — five years of silence vanished just like that in the course of one afternoon.

“I’m really glad you called. It’s so good to see you, Kiwi,” he said as you stood in the parking lot beside your car, squeezing you tightly in his arms.

Kiwi. That silly little nickname he’d given you in elementary school because you’d worn a green shirt with brown pants. Somehow, it stuck, and you became Kiwi.

The flashes of the Tyson you knew were there, peeking through the private jets and flashing lights of his career that made him feel so distant, separating your lifestyles with an extra comma and several additional 0’s. As you drove home, his voice echoing in your mind, you asked yourself, were things similar enough? Even if he was the same Tyson, were you still the same Kiwi?

Part 2: The Rekindling

From the moment he got that text from you, Tyson swore all of his problems dissipated. It was cheesy and he hated it, but he had a literal pep in his step ever since he got back from lunch. He was playing more confidently, producing more than he had in Colorado, and while he knew that realistically, it was probably due in part to the change of scenery and the subconscious desire to prove himself, he couldn’t help but attribute it to you.

After that day at the cafe, he’d solidified a spot in your life, at the front of the table, almost like he’d never left, like he’d just been away at summer camp for a few weeks. You found yourself spending much of your free time with him, at his place or yours, or out showing him the Twin Cities like a proper tour guide. Despite the drastic changes in your lives, it was all too easy to fall back into your old routine, muscle memory kicking in after shaking the rust off and doing a few practice loops.

Things were different, though, slight shifts in the dynamic from all those years ago; it was only natural, given the growth you’d both gone through, physically, mentally, emotionally. You were older, more stable, and more mature. You noticed that he’d begun to fill the gaps in your life that would normally be filled by a romantic partner, if you’d had one — the go-to person to invite to the new restaurant you wanted to try, binge-watching your new favorite Netflix show, sending regular text updates about your day. Sure, you had other friends, and so did he, but it was clear from day 1 that you were each other’s first choice, maybe in more ways than one.

As the weeks turned into months, the regular season waning into the playoff preparations, you found yourself longing to be with him more, dreading the away games and extended time apart as he spent more time training, practicing, working out. You told yourself it was just that you’d spent so much time drifting apart and that it was refreshing, rejuvenating to have your closest friend back, a different kind of happy with him back in your life, not willing to even consider the other explanation.

The way he looked at you was different, too, though you did your best to ignore it. He was more affectionate, even cuddly, brushing your arm when he walked past, thigh bumping against yours when he sat next to you on the couch, arms squeezing you tighter when he hugged you goodbye — which was apparently something you did now, despite never having done it before. There was a light in his eye that you hadn’t noticed before, assuming it was a detail you’d forgotten about him in the years you’d grown apart, but it quickly became one of your favorite parts of him, the warmth in his smile and the affection in his eyes a place of comfort you’d missed out on.

And, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice the benefit of his profession and his extra time in the gym — praising the warm weather, you looked forward to spending time outside with him, eyes running appreciatively over the cut of his arms and the stretch of fabric over his muscled chest. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything, though you did your best to hide behind the shade of your sunglasses — except for the one time you’d walked into his apartment when he was in just a towel, and you’d both stuttered uncomfortably before he ran back into his room to change. (You’d dreamt about his toned six-pack and the drip of the water down his hardened chest for days after.)

He’d introduced you to some of his teammates, vaguely, never really giving you a label — just Y/N — but then, what was the label even supposed to be? Childhood best friend who I reconnected with and is now my best friend again? Former best friend who I drunkenly fucked one night and never spoke to again, but am now speaking to again?

Yeah, you thought, maybe it was best to avoid the labels for now. And maybe there was something more going on than just friendship. But that was another conversation for another time.

When the Wild were disappointingly eliminated from the playoffs, Tyson’s summer break began earlier than expected, and he was quick to invite you on a trip to Denver. He still had his brand deal with Coors Light, and they’d asked him to attend an Avs watch party at Coors Field. It worked out well, since he was already planning on going to cheer on the boys, his connection with the team never fading despite the disappointing departure a few months prior.

It was natural, just like old times; you’d brought the other to dances, proms, parties, when there was no romantic partner of the month. This was really no different, except for the fact that he was now a professional athlete paid millions to schmooze with the fans and stakeholders, the events much more lavish than a homecoming in your middle school gym. In the past, there had never been any question that it was never a date, but now, you weren’t so sure.

When you got to the hotel to check in, the front desk agent had blushed profusely when he gave his name, eyes looking a little too wide and lips a little too pouty for your liking. He’d smiled warmly while you bristled beside him, absolutely no reason to be feeling this contempt toward the kind woman who was simply doing her job.

She didn’t have to put her hand on his, though, when she’d paused her typing to say in a far-from-professional seductive tone, “You were my favorite Av.”

So maybe you felt a little surge of pride at the way her face fell, glossed lips breaking her smile, when she looked at the reservation. Her eyes flicked to you, having already dismissed you in favor of speaking only to Tyson, then turned her attention back to him.

“Mr. Jost, I’m sorry, but it looks like you only have one room on your reservation.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” he replied, and you felt the sinful pride welling up in your gut as she nodded curtly.

“I see,” she said curtly, eyes glancing back to you yet again, not doing much of anything to hide her own contempt. “Unfortunately, it looks like the double rooms are all booked up because of the Finals. All I have left is the king suite.”

You saw the flush on Tyson’s cheeks before feeling the heat rise oin your own, eyes snapping to his.

“Oh, uh —”

“Are you — ?”

“I mean, yeah, it’s fine —”

“I can take the couch,” you said, trying your hardest not to notice the way his cheeks had grown a really delightful shade of pink.

“I’d be happy to have the pullout couch arranged for you,” she offered, voice back to warm, clearly pleased that you were at least having some sort of conflict about sharing a bed, the glaring red alarm light above you signaling that you were not, as she had assumed, a girlfriend or romantic partner.

“No, Kiwi, I’m not letting you do that,” he said firmly, much to Front Desk Girl’s visible disappointment. “The King is fine. It’ll be just like our old sleepovers, yeah?”

You nodded in agreement, and Tyson turned back to the girl to complete the check in, her face back to a mild scowl. Glancing down to hide the smirk on your face, you bit back a comment that her makeup would be ruined at the rate her facial expressions switched from one to the other so rapidly.

Once she handed Tyson the keys, you offered a sweet smile before turning to follow him to the elevator, unable to prevent the satisfaction that settled over you. The room, of course, was wonderful, offering a beautiful view of the city and the snow-covered mountains in the distance, though the awkwardness had seeped in as soon as he’d unlocked the door, the large bed sitting very loudly in the center of the ornate room, a glaring beacon to your past.

You cleared your throat and brushed past it, shoving the discomfort to the side and ignoring it. If you didn’t think about it, it would go away, right?

Tyson’s eyes fell to your wrist as you accepted the extra room key from him, slipping it in the pocket of your purse. “What’s that?”

Smiling, you turned and offered your wrist, showing off your new — old — hardware: a braided bracelet, several shades of blue thread woven together in a simple pattern and tied neatly.

“Is that — ?”

“Yup,” you nodded, touching the bracelet unconsciously. “I meant to tell you that I found it in my closet the other day.”

“I can’t believe you still have it,” he laughed, shaking his head. “I made that for you… God, how long ago was that? It was at that one camp, and I think I was like, nine? Ten?”

“That was the worst summer of my life,” you sighed dramatically. “You were gone for so long and I had nothing to do except hang out with Lizzie Sherman.”

His eyebrows raised in understanding, placing his hand over his heart. “I’m sorry for putting you through that, Kiwi, truly. I solemnly swear that I will never do it again.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head before setting your bag on the luggage rack in the closet.

“You wanna get dinner? My favorite diner is just a few blocks down the street. They have the world’s best pancakes.”

“Tyson, it’s like, 8pm Minnesota time.”

“So? There is literally never a bad time for breakfast food.”

So, a few minutes later, you found yourself seated in an old school diner, straight out of any New York City movie. It was relatively quiet, only a few tables occupied when you arrived, and he’d told you it was Denver’s best kept secret.

“Whoa, now, look who the cat dragged in,” the waitress said as she approached the table. “Tyson Jost, in the flesh.”

“Hey, Carol, good to see you,” he greeted with a grin. She was older, old enough to be his mother, voice raspy no doubt from years of cigarette smoke, with a warm, welcoming smile, laugh lines etched into her face.

“What brings you back? Can’t be a coincidence that you’re here the day before Game 1.”

“Showing Y/N here around the old stomping grounds,” he explained with a gesture to you. “But you know I can’t miss the boys’ first game.”

“Knew you couldn’t stay away for too long,” she tutted, then turned to you. “This boy single handedly kept us in business during the pandemic.”

You laughed, “That doesn’t surprise me one bit. He’s been raving about this place for weeks.”

“Y’know I’ve got a soft spot for ya, Josty,” she winked.

“You’re always my favorite girl,” he replied flirtatiously, nudging your foot under the table as if to say, Nah, you know you are.

“I’m flattered, but I don’t think your girlfriend here appreciates that too much,” she said, and you felt that familiarly uncomfortable heat flood your cheeks at her comment. It was playful, harmless, but your eyes snapped to Tyson’s as he smiled and made the joke, “You always knew you weren’t the only girl for me.”

You tried to hide the way your eyes wanted to bulge out of your head at his words, innocent enough, but shocking nonetheless. Maybe it wasn’t worth correcting, an honest and casual mistake given the circumstances — but how could you just ignore the smile on his face as he said it? There was an ease of his voice, the pride in his body language, like he’d been saying it all his life.

Carol winked at you, lucky girl uttered in that matronly way, before pulling out her notepad and pen, the moment floating away in an instant. “What can I get for you guys?”

“Coffee, please,” he ordered. “We’ll split the pancakes. And, Carol, you’re the only one I trust to get this exactly right. We’ll also have a plate of hashbrowns, with one sunny side up egg on them.”

Carol nodded and you smiled at the gleam in his eye as he flashed you a grin. It had been a tradition when you were kids — to share a plate of pancakes, doused in maple syrup, along with hashbrown and egg yolks, after every sleepover. At one point, when Tyson hit puberty and began demolishing plates of food to keep up with his growing body, your dad and his mom began buying bags of frozen hashbrowns in bulk to keep up.

“Are you even allowed to eat pancakes and potatoes?” you asked, eyebrow raised, once Carol had turned to put your order in.

“We’ll count it as my cheat meal,” he shrugged. “This is more than worth it.”

Your heart warmed at the implication, and before you could comment, he was off, launched into a story about JT and the time their coach made them skate laps when he found out they’d competed — and won — in a pancake challenge at this very restaurant.

It wasn’t long before Carol was delivering your food to your table, balancing several plates expertly on her arms. The smell of freshly cooked pancakes and fried potatoes filled your nose, and Tyson thanked her before sending you a grin. “Smells like heaven, doesn’t it?”

“I never doubted your taste buds for a second.”

As you watched him ceremoniously crack the yellow yolk on the crisp hashbrowns, the liquid oozing over the potatoes, you thought to yourself how natural it all felt. Sitting here, with him, like no time had passed, like nothing had ever happened between you, just sitting and enjoying a plate of pancakes with your friend. It was so simple, so seamless, so easy with him, even amidst the road bumps.

If this was a movie, you thought, this would be the exact moment where the main character realizes she’s in love with him.

It had never really been a thought before, all of the comments from your families growing up about how you’d end up marrying one another shrugged off, laughed away with a teasing gross and a grin. But losing him, and having him come back to you, when both of you had least expected it — you couldn’t deny it certainly had fate written all over it, the serendipity of it all almost too strong to ignore.

And then there was the question — were you in love with him?

*****************

When you got back to the hotel after dinner — breakfast? — you both slipped into more comfortable clothes, and, when you couldn’t stop yawning, you knew it was time for bed. Tyson followed you into the spacious bathroom as you began to get ready for bed; he set his small travel bag for toiletries on the counter beside you while you were brushing your teeth.

“Hyaluronic acid? Seriously, Tys?” you asked, holding up the dropper bottle he’d set down.

“What? My skin is really dry, okay?” He snatched the bottle back, unscrewing it to drop some of the liquid on his hands before rubbing it into his skin. “The girl at Ulta told me I should buy it.” “Girls do like a man who has a skincare routine,” you mused.

“Thank you,” he said, puffing his chest out proudly. “I’ll have you know that I have excellent personal hygiene.”

Your eyebrows raised, biting back any snarky reply, choosing instead to nod sarcastically. “Uh huh.”

Soon enough, you were crawling into bed, the crisp white sheets rustling beneath your body. It wasn’t until you laid your head against the pillow that you realized Tyson would be joining you soon, right next to you, in the bed. The silent implications, unspoken words from years ago swirled in your head, and you did your best to push them away.

When he settled in under the sheets, you were grateful for the large bed, allowing you the extra space between your bodies, not even able to feel his body heat. The timidness had returned, plopping itself in the gap between you, and you swore you could feel a physical, but invisible barrier sharing the covers with you. It was fine, you told yourself, totally normal, not weird at all. Plenty of people shared beds with their friends on trips.

But not everyone had slept with that friend 5 years ago and never talked about it since.

“I’m not gonna bite, you know.”

Called out.

“I know,” you replied, doing your best to hide the nerves in your voice. “I just… don’t usually sleep in a bed with other people.”

“It’s just me. Just like old times, except now I have bulging muscles that you have to watch out for.”

You snorted, grateful for the way he was able to seamlessly ease the tension with his corny jokes, and you smiled when he nudged your leg with his knee.

“Goodnight, Tyson.”

“Goodnight, Kiwi.”

*****************

Fortunately, the awkwardness of waking up beside him was staved, for he’d woken up early to run in the hotel gym, allowing you time to shower and get ready for the day, thankful for the privacy. His ‘getting ready’ routine was short, and soon enough, you were taking coffees to go to the park after a quick breakfast. It was a beautiful day, and conversation was easy and casual as you strolled together, excitement buzzing in the air of the city in anticipation for game 1 of the Finals.

Lunch was one of his favorite sandwich shops, followed by some sightseeing — he was pleased to have swapped roles, being in the position of tour guide and leading you through the city that he knew like the back of his hand.

You returned back to the hotel to get ready for the event, and then the game. Tyson had already texted with JT and made arrangements to stop by after the game to say hello to the boys, and while you weren’t nervous, you did want to make a good first impression. It was a summer event, so you opted to wear your old Avalanche Jost jersey — bought in advance of the one game you’d attended five years ago — paired with shorts to help keep you cool in the warm Denver air.

Tyson, while he couldn’t directly wear an Avs logo, ensured that his flannel had navy and burgundy woven into the fabric as his subtle nod to his former team. You couldn’t help but let your eyes trail appreciatively over him, his gray t-shirt fitting him in all the right places, wild curls tamed neatly with some gel. He cleaned up nice, even when going to an event hosted by a beer company.

You slipped on your shoes, before smoothing out your jersey and grabbing your purse.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Tyson opened the door for you, then trailed behind you as you walked down the hall to the elevators. You could feel the heat of his eyes on you, almost enough to make you uncomfortable had it been anyone else.

“You look really… good,” he said. “That jersey looks really good on you.”

“You sound surprised.”

His eyes went wide, cheeks tinging pink as he stuttered, “No, I’m not – you just – I just – ah, shit –”

“Just fucking with you,” you grinned. “You look nice, too, Tys.”

His glare was adorably bashful, leading you to the elevator in order to meet your Uber driver in the lobby.

The event went smoothly, easy enough to stand beside Tyson while he cracked jokes and shared stories with the fans. It was fun to see him interacting with them, always so jovial and friendly despite being traded several months prior. That had always been something you’d loved about him; being able to strike up a conversation with anyone and end it as if he’d known them his whole life. Really, when you thought about it, it shouldn’t have been a surprise as to why you’d reconnected with him so easily.

Watching the game surrounded by fans was an equally thrilling experience, the cheers erupting with each hit, each save, each goal. Tyson was elated, and honestly, so were you, despite the fact that the only reason you’d had any loyalty to the team was the man standing beside you.

After the game, Tyson was buzzing, eager to meet up with the guys. He took you through a “secret” route to get into the arena while avoiding the mass hoards of cheering, hollering fans, elated by the overtime victory. He walked with familiarity through the doors, leading you through the halls outside of the locker rooms, waiting for his friends to emerge.

He’d begun to show you some of the pieces on the wall, explaining some of the history of the team as you saw the murals of Joe Sakic and Peter Forsberg lifting the Cup over their heads.

“God, you need a fuckin’ haircut, bud,” said a voice from behind you.

Your heart warmed as you saw Tyson’s eyes light up, grinning like a fool as he turned at the sound of the voice, as familiar to him as his own name.

“Looks like you lost your trimmers too, ya mountain man. Your playoff beard looks like shit,” he shot back with a smile, approaching his best friend, large arms engulfing the other in a hug. When he pulled away, he turned to you expectantly and set his hand on the back of your arm.

“JT, this is Y/N. Y/N, JT.”

You offered a smile, sticking out your hand and shrieking in surprise when the redhead pushed your hand away and moved in for a bear hug.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Y/N. Thanks for putting up with this shithead,” he said, grinning.

“Someone’s got to, am I right?” you were quick to crack back, earning a laugh from JT. Tyson held his hands up, as if he was only then beginning to realize the consequences of having his two best friends here to roast him at the same time.

“Jost, you didn’t tell me you had pretty friends at home,” JT said smoothly, and your cheeks felt hot, not used to the public compliment. “Maybe I would’ve come visit sooner if I knew.”

Tyson gave him a shove. “She’s off limits, pal. Don’t even think about it.”

The redhead’s eyebrow raised, sending you a glance like he knew the internal conflict that was brewing inside you, could see the tension mounting between the two of you despite your best efforts to keep it under wraps. It was a bit unsettling, and you wanted to tell him that just because he was Tyson’s best friend didn’t mean that he could read your mind, too.

If he could, he didn’t say anything, smoothly changing the subject to ask about the flight and your activities in the city thus far. The conversation was easy, and you could certainly see how Tyson had fallen into him in your absence.

More and more of the guys began to pile out of the room, greeting Tyson with enthusiasm. Some of them greeted you cordially, and others followed JT’s path and simply scooped you up for a hug. Soon enough, the wives, girlfriends, and others flooded the hall until it was full of people, celebrating Avs getting one win closer to the Stanley Cup.

You found yourself chatting with two girls, one of whom was Mel Landeskog, and the other you hadn’t quite caught the name of or who she was with. Mel was warm, a greeting you like an old friend that she’d known for years.

“I’m so glad you were able to come out,” she said. “I know how much it means to the guys to have Tyson here.”

“It’s been so great to see the way the city’s welcomed him back,” you replied. “You can tell this really is home for him.”

Mel smiled, nodding with agreement, but was quickly called away by EJ asking her to wrangle in her husband. The dynamic shifted as you tried to make small talk with the other girl, offering a friendly smile that was half-assedly returned.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“I’m Susie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Susie. I’m Y/N.”

“Are you Josty’s girlfriend?” she asked, the words so blunt you blinked in surprise.

Cheeks warming, you stuttered, “Oh, uh, no. Just a friend.”

Susie hummed, her eyes scanning over Tyson’s figure a few feet away. Part of you wanted to smack her to stop her from ogling him, but considering you were just a friend, you resisted the urge to start a fight.

“You just don’t look like his type, is all,” she said, glancing back. You felt your heart sink at her words, the silent implication all but screaming in your ears. She didn’t say it, didn’t have to, but you knew exactly what she meant: Not pretty enough to be his type, not skinny enough to be his type.

Offering another smile, you excused yourself to find a restroom. You walked away quickly, seeking either the bathroom or just privacy, whichever you could find first. Ducking behind a wall, you closed your eyes, tears hot as they brimmed above your lashes, blinking quickly to avoid letting them spill onto your face.

It was nothing new, nothing you hadn’t heard before, and you knew better than to put any stock in it, especially being around the crowd of pretty, but stereotypical, athlete girlfriends. But that didn’t make it any easier to hear, especially not when comparing you to Tyson — your Tyson. They didn’t understand, no one understood, the history and strength of your relationship, both before and after the unintentional hiatus. Everyone just assumed that Tyson — handsome, fit, rich — could never associate with a fat girl.

With a forlorn sigh, you heaved yourself up and began an actual search for a bathroom to pop into. A few winding corners later, you found one, locking the door behind you. You gathered a wad of toilet paper to dab at your eyes, careful to avoid smudging your mascara. As you exited the stall, your eyes dragged up to see themselves in the reflection of the mirror, unable to avoid the way they inevitably slid over your figure. The jersey, while covering your body, couldn’t hide the size of your arms, the width of your torso, the shape of your belly.

It had taken a long time, with many tears and countless hours of therapy, but you’d finally reached a point where you were happy, or at least content, with your body, no longer hating what you saw in the mirror. But the thoughts echoing in your head were far from kind, unable to prevent the comparisons and harmful words.

Summoning your therapist’s voice in your head, you allowed yourself a few moments to hype yourself back up, if only to gather the energy to return to the crowd of people outside. The weight in your throat dissipated, and you took another deep breath before stepping back out and finding the group again, Susie and everyone else clueless to your brief detour.

“Hey, you,” Tyson greeted, walking up to you and bumping your hips with his. “Was just looking for you. I think the guys are gonna go out for a celebratory drink — you wanna go?”

Hoping he couldn’t see the glassiness of your eyes, you glanced around before saying, “I think I’m just going to head in early.”

Tyson’s face fell. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine, just tired from the travel. I’ll see you back at the hotel later.”

“I can come with you —“

“No, Tys, you should go celebrate with them. You deserve to,” you urged, smiling to show him you were okay.

He frowned, but nodded, quickly taking out his phone to order you an Uber back and ignoring your protests that you could, in fact, afford a ride back to the hotel.

*****************

Instead of going to your room, though, you found your feet walking toward the hotel bar, taking a seat on the plush barstool. Maybe it felt a little cliche, a little too ‘main character’ for your liking, but you thought you could use the liquid blanket to help you forget the way those words stung just a little too much.

“Give me something old,” you said when the bartender approached, setting a napkin in front of you. “And red.”

He nodded, and soon you were presented with a glass of Pinot Noir, a 1982 something-or-other. With a wry smile, you lifted the glass in a mock toast to him, pushing away the voice in your head that told you to savor the nice wine and taking a much larger than necessary gulp.

One glass turned into three, time blurred as the wine got sweeter with each sip. You didn’t know how much time had passed, but you found yourself hurtling back to the present, conscious, with brown curls tickling your forehead. As reality trickled back into your hazy brain, you realized you were on your back in bed, having the life kissed out of you by your best friend. You didn’t remember how you’d gotten there, only focused on the way his hand felt against your breast, kneading it through the cotton of the t-shirt you were wearing — when did you change?

Tyson tasted like beer, his tongue pressed against yours in a familiar moment. His hands felt sinful, hot, dragging along your skin, drawing soft sighs from your throat.

“Tys,” you breathed, mouth hot against his, words unable to form past the sigh of his name. “Tys.”

He hummed, hearing you but not hearing you, mouth trailing back to your jaw. The work of his lips on your skin had your brain in a haze far more powerful than the wine, all coherent thoughts leading back to one thing: Tyson.

The smallest sober sliver of yourself that was left was screaming at you, fighting desperately against the drunk desire that was all too easy to give in to, to keep kissing him and feeling his heat against yours.

“Tys, stop,” you said again, sobriety flitting into your consciousness. “We can’t.”

Whether it was your words or your tone that reached his brain, you weren’t sure, but he ceased his mouth’s onslaught in an instant. You watched him blink, as if he, too, was flying back to reality, the lustful, drunken haze bursting above you. He pulled away, sitting back on his legs as he ran a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

The absence of his body caused you to shiver despite the heat of your skin. Your legs were still spread, wide, accompanying his form still sat between your thighs, and your cheeks burned from feeling so exposed. Dread filled your heart as you watched him slide off the bed, muttering an apology, head hung in shame while he shuffled to the couch.

Part of you wanted to call out to him, to apologize — for what exactly, you weren’t sure — but your brain finally spoke louder as you bit your tongue, letting it wait until morning, knowing the situation needed a sober mind. You listened to him shifting on the couch, tugging a spare blanket over him with a sigh.

It was thoughts of Tyson’s lips that filled your mind as you drifted off to sleep, finally succumbing to the haze the wine was calling you to.

Part 3: The Romance

The brightness of the sun stirred you from your sleep. Head pounding, you blinked a few times, the processing time it took to get your bearings extremely delayed, soaked with too much Pinot Noir and the subtle taste of Coors Light. Blurs of the night before flitted through your mind like a slideshow, flashing images of the hotel bar, of brown curls and stolen sighs.

Your legs stretched, and all at once you registered the large bed, the space beside you, and in an instant the feeling of Tyson’s lips on yours came rushing back to you. With a groan, you scrubbed your hand over your face, rolling to your side to heave yourself up.

Tyson sat on the loveseat, not looking much better than you felt, a disposable cup in his hand. He offered a solemn smile, then nodded to the coffee table in front of him, an additional cup waiting for you.

“Morning,” he greeted.

“Hi,” you replied, feeling extremely exposed in your t-shirt and sleep shorts. Your feet slid along the marble floor, cold against your skin, as you shuffled to your bag to tug on a sweatshirt. Though you blamed your slow movements on the ache of your head, you’d be lying if you weren’t doing everything you could to delay the impending conversation that lied ahead, daunting, intimidating, staring back at you on the other side of the room.

You made your way back to the couch, the space beside Tyson burning your skin as you sat down, maximizing the distance between you two as much as possible on the small sofa.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you broke the silence, shifting uncomfortably as you took a sip. “God, I feel like shit.”

Tyson let out a snort in agreement, handing you the small bottle of Advil from his bag.

“Yeah. I pay for it more now than I did back then,” he said, taking a slurp of his own. His eyes flicked to yours, the elephant in the room glaring, screeching loud, unavoidable no matter how much you’d rather curl back up in the king bed and bury your head under the duvet.

You met his eyes, painstaking, and you could see it in them, dying to come out into the world.

“Y/N, I —“

“Tyson, please don’t.”

“No, Y/N, we need to talk about this,” he started, slowly, firm but not cross.

Your eyes broke from his, unable to hold his gaze anymore, looking down at your lap. He was quiet, waiting for you to speak, to give him permission to continue.

“We were drunk, Tyson. Shit happens. We’ll shake it off,” you dismissed it, a weak attempt to make the discomfort vanish.

“That’s what I said five years ago, too,” he said, and your heart leapt into your throat at his words, eyes shooting to meet his. It was the first time either of you had acknowledged It out loud, to each other or to anyone else.

You swallowed thickly, taking a beat before responding. “It was a mistake, Tyson. You regret it, I regret it. It happened, and we moved on —”

“I don’t regret it.”

His words interrupted you, your eyes shooting up to him at his statement. settled in the silence, your eyes shooting up to him at his statement. He what?

Tyson paused for another moment. “Well, I didn’t.”

Oh. The words struck your heart, shattering it instantly, as if confirming what you both feared and knew to be true.

“No, wait, let me rephrase that,” he said quickly, realizing his mistake. “I don’t regret sleeping with you. I regret what happened after, and letting you walk away without talking to you about it.”

The words it’s too late, it doesn’t matter rang through your head, heavy on your tongue in a way that made you want to spit them out.

“I don’t regret it,” he repeated again, as if to solidify his feelings and make sure you understood. Then he asked in a timid voice, as if he was afraid to hear the answer, “Why do you regret it?”

“It’s not that easy of an answer.”

“It can’t be that complicated,” he shot back, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his tone.

“Tyson, I’m not –”

“You’re not what, Y/N?” he cut you off, eyes blazing with concern despite the frustration in his voice.

“I don’t belong here, Tyson.”

“What does that mean?”

“This,” you gestured to your surroundings, the expensive suite a contrast to your apartment and old sweatshirt that had brought you comfort since high school. “Here. With you. I don’t belong here. Not when I look like this.”

Tyson’s eyes fell, softening as each of your words struck him like broken glass. The words that his brain managed to conjure — none of them were enough, could ever be enough, to tell you how laughably and incredibly wrong you were.

“I regret it because guys like you don’t end up with girls like me.”

“That’s not true,” he finally said softly, kicking himself for not being able to come up with anything more eloquent.

“It is,” you replied. “You’re a professional athlete now, Tyson. You should be dating models, blonde size zero’s. Not me. Look at every single one of your teammates’ wives and girlfriends. None of them look like me.”

Tyson’s mouth opened, like he was ready to blurt out his next sentence, but paused, closing it.

‘It was fun, but really all sleeping with you did was show me a sliver of a life that I can’t have.”

“Y/N.” His voice was soft, trying to connect with you, to bring you back to the moment. Something about the way your name sounded coming out of his mouth made the burn in your throat even stronger, tears welling in your eyes as you blinked, looking away to avoid his sight.

“I liked you then, before any of that — any of this — mattered,” he began, hand running through his messy, untamed curls. “I know that doesn’t take away from any of the feelings that you’ve felt and the experiences that you’ve had, and I know that I will never be able to fully understand, but fuck, Y/N, I care about you so much, and I…”

His voice trailed off, eyes off in the distance like he was searching for the words. You watched him, waiting patiently for him to finish, trying your best to not prepare your response before he had even completed his thought.

“I know that I’m on the TV sometimes, and I make a lot of money, but that doesn’t mean that I’m different. Deep down, inside, away from the cameras and the crowd, I’m the same Tyson I always was, always have been. The same one who made you this bracelet at camp,” he said softly, reaching out to pull at the braided strings on your wrist. The touch tingled your skin, and you did your best to ignore it. “I’m still the guy who played with your Barbies and made them fall in love with Batman.”

Your lips curled into a small smile at the memory, and he matched it before continuing. “I just want – need you to know that I’ve never, ever been bothered by your size. I look at you and see you. My best friend. The girl who was there by my side for everything. No matter what number is on the scale, or what size jeans you wear, or what you decided to eat that day. Not then, not now.”

Your heart swelled in your chest, and you almost didn’t want to believe him, but for the deep sincerity in his voice and the honesty in his pleading eyes.

“You said that guys like me don’t end up with girls like you,” he said, reaching forward to tentatively take your hand in his. When you didn’t pull away, he gave you a squeeze that encouraged your eyes to flick up to his. “But there’s never been someone who’s so perfect for me.”

“Tyson…”

“Please let me finish,” was his response, and it wasn’t harsh, but gentle, more of a plea, like he would die if he couldn’t get the words out.

“I’ve felt this way forever, about you. I felt it that night, and the morning after, and every morning since. But I didn’t realize what it was until you came back into my life. And now that you’re here, I can’t let you leave again.”

Your heart thumped in your chest, barely processing the words coming out of his mouth before he was speaking again.

“I love you, Y/N.”

The air in your throat felt tight, like you were suddenly engulfed in a tidal wave of emotion. Though you knew what he said, the weight of his words were still light, not sinking in, the true force of them waiting to crash onto you at any moment. He knew, understood without words, and took his hand back and sipped his coffee to allow you some space.

“Tyson, I —“ you began, then stopped, words once again failing you, only this time it was because of something else his lips were doing.

“You don’t have to say it back, now, or ever,” he said quickly. “I just… Needed you to know. I’ve always loved you.”

Hot tears trickled down your cheeks when you blinked, sniffling as you looked up at him. It was, with no contest, the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to you. You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised; you’d never felt as seen or as heard as you did with Tyson, even when you were doing your best to hide beneath the smile you offered to the world outside.

“The last few months with you have been… wonderful, and confusing,” you continued, throat constricted as you tried your best to quell the tears, tried to put your feelings into somewhat coherent words. “I’ve been spending this entire time trying to figure out what it is I’m feeling.”

He nodded, letting you know that he was following, his body completely engaged with you and your words.

“I think —I think that I might… feel… the same,” you picked your words carefully, that big, terrifying L-word far too heavy to throw out like that. “I’m still working that out for sure.”

Tyson smiled, pleased with even the possibility that you might love him too. His expression shifted as he swallowed, suddenly looking nervous.

“Could I kiss you?”

Your heart did a triple-axel backflip at the question, and you realized you were nodding as if he might never ask again, uncertain about the future but knowing in the moment that you desperately wanted his lips on yours.

They were warm, soft, just enough weight behind the kiss that you could feel his yearning without feeling forceful or aggressive. It was sweet, years of pining built up into one moment.

“I’ve always liked doing that.”

“Yeah? Is that why it’s happened twice now when you’re drunk?”

“You wanna see what happens when I’m not?”

With one sentence, the dynamic of the room shifted, suddenly feeling like it was at least ten degrees hotter. The implication of his words had warmth spreading through your body, the sweatshirt you had on quickly too much.

He was hesitant, though, waiting for your approval. Tyson felt your pause, and added, “It’s okay if you don’t. I’m not going anywhere, not unless you tell me to fuck off. But, you know what they say, third time’s the charm.”

You smiled, appreciative of his humor as he grinned, clearly impressed with himself. In the back of your head, you heard a quiet voice mutter, Fuck around and find out.

“And for what it’s worth, I think you’re incredibly fucking sexy.”

Before you could think twice, you were lunging forward to throw your arms around him and kiss him. If he was taken aback, he recovered quickly, moving to wrap his arms around you as he kissed you back with enthusiasm. Your back hit the soft velvet of the sofa, giving him more leverage to kiss you harder, his tongue finding the seam of your mouth.

The irony of making out with him again, mere hours after your recent run-in, was not lost on you, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to care. This time was different, sober consent all too clear, and you could feel everything.

The pile of clothes on the floor grew, cotton flung without a second thought as you undressed each other, slowly, carefully. Instinctively, you were tempted to cover your body with your arms, but Tyson had other plans, pulling your hands away from your stomach as he delivered kisses against your skin. You shivered at the feeling, his lips tracing constellations along your chest, over your belly, onto your hips.

“Fuckin’ love your hips,” he murmured, voice muffled by your skin, and you giggled at the way his low tone vibrated against you. His hands followed suit, slow and careful, like they were handling a priceless piece of art — and to him, they were.

Tyson’s mouth trailed over your waist, kissing and sucking marks on his journey between your thighs. His breath was hot against the cotton of your underwear, damp with anticipation as he glanced up at you, searching for any sign of protest. When he was met with none, he allowed his finger to drag up the seam, thumb rubbing gently over your clit through the material.

A moan escaped your lips, encouraging him to continue. He moved forward to kiss the fabric, inhaling your scent and letting out a groan.

“Please, Kiwi,” he murmured against your core. “Please let me eat you out. God, I’m begging you.”

His earnest desire had you nodding so fast you thought your head might fall off, butterflies erupting in your belly when his fingers dug into the waistband of your panties, tugging them over your hips and down your thighs. He didn’t give you any time to be shy, quickly pulling apart your legs to reveal your aching center, wet with need.

Licking his lips, Tyson hummed before pressing kisses against each of your inner thighs, tickling you slightly with the action, poor excuse for a playoff beard scratching the sensitive skin. He licked his way toward your lower lips, kissing them the way he’d kissed your mouth last night. Another deep groan left his throat when he tasted you, quick to delve his tongue inside of you.

Your hands flew to tangle themselves in his curls, his tongue working magic along your sodden slit, teasing you artfully. When his fingers joined his tongue, parting your folds and slipping into your heat, you let out a sigh of his name, pleasure hazing your vision and sending warm fuzzies to your belly.

“Jesus, you taste like fuckin’ heaven,” he moaned against you, pumping his fingers slowly when he realized that doing so produced more of your juices, lapping it up like the syrup from the pancakes you’d eaten the day before.

You couldn’t even reply, words a distant memory with the way he worked his digits inside of you, finding the spot to make you see stars. He grinned against you when he hit it, feeling the way you tightened around his fingers, and set off on his mission to show you just how bad he wanted you. His tongue continued its assault on your clit, flicking and circling in perfect harmony with the movement of his fingers, steady and consistent.

“Tys —“

Your climax hit you suddenly, a long cry of his name called out into the room while your back arched, fingers tugging tightly onto his hair. Tyson was careful to continue his movements exactly the same to draw out your pleasure as long as possible, only stopping when your hand gently pushed his head away. Short puffs of breath left you, panting, and he was smug as he pulled away to grin at you.

“Was that good, or —?”

Resisting the urge to smack him upside the head, you pulled him up toward you to kiss him. He quickly forgot his snark, distracted by your lips and the way your hand was crawling its way between your bodies, palming the hardening bulge in his boxers.

“Fuck,” he choked out, twitching against your hand.

“Take me to bed, Tyson,” you instructed him, words breathed against his mouth softly, a prayer rather than a command.

He moved so quickly that you almost laughed, if not for the shriek that left you as he picked you up, bridal style, crossing the short distance back to the large bed.

“Shall we continue last night’s activities?” he teased, waggling his eyebrows as he laid you back onto the mattress, settling himself between your legs to kiss you again.

“Tys,” you said between kisses. “I wanted to —“

“I know, baby, but look at you. Fuck, I’ve gotta have you,” he interrupted. You could practically feel the desperation in his voice, and you certainly could feel his desperation between your thighs.

A shiver ran up your spine at his words, and you were rendered speechless when he reached his arms behind his head to tug his shirt off his shoulders, in that hot way that boys do. It was your turn to groan at the sight, his toned core muscles flexing in the morning light.

“You like what y’see?” he smirked. “Know you liked that preview that day at my apartment, huh?”

“Shut up,” you shot back, silencing him by reaching for his erection again, this time allowing your hand to slip beneath the waistband of his boxers, wrapping your fist around him. “You gonna take these off so you can use it, or what?”

Tyson couldn’t remove the offending garment fast enough, fumbling over himself to shove the boxers down his legs, tossing them behind him hurriedly. It was your turn to smirk, admiring the sight of him completely nude in front of you as you leaned forward to stroke him. You watched goosebumps rise on his arms as you pressed your lips to the head of his dick, breath hot on the sensitive flesh.

“Kiwi —”

“Just a taste,” you pleaded, looking up at him with wide eyes, lips puckered against his leaking tip.

He let out a strangled groan, along with a string of curse words, which was all you needed as permission to take him into your mouth. You let your tongue swirl along his length, tasting him, savoring the weight of him and the saltiness of his precum.

Head bobbing, your mouth moved up and down, lips wrapped around the girth of him. With a glance up, you saw his eyes squeezed shut, lip tugged between his teeth as he indulged in the feeling of your hot mouth.

You made it a competition with yourself, see how many delicious moans and groans you could pull from his lips with the work of your own, as you let your mouth learn each inch of him, skin soft on your tongue. Bringing your hand up to the base, you gripped tightly and stroked him, working conjointly with your mouth.

“Baby, baby, you gotta — fuck, Kiwi, you gotta stop,” he panted, hand moving to your jaw to pull you off of him. “M’not gonna last if you keep — fuck.”

You smiled, pleased with your ability to render him a stuttering fool, though it quickly faltered when he gently pressed you onto your back. He kissed you again, stealing the breath from your lungs, as his hand cupped your jaw, slowing the moment down again. His cock bobbed between your thighs, wet with your saliva and bumping against the slickness of your folds, and you whined at the feeling.

When he tore himself away from you, running to retrieve a condom from his bag, you raised an eyebrow at him as he climbed back onto the bed. “You came prepared, huh?”

“What? No! No — I mean, I hoped, maybe… I thought, just in case—“ he stuttered, bashfully looking at you as his cheeks flushed.

You rolled your eyes with a giggle, letting him know you weren’t upset with a nudge against his thigh with your knee. He looked relieved, then remembered he was supposed to be doing something with the foil packet in his hand, ripping it open and working the latex over his aching cock.

He shifted, positioning himself at your opening, then paused to look at you, eyes connecting with yours in a glance, wordless yet saying everything he needed to say. You nodded, a soft please dying on your lips when he let the tip bump against your clit.

Slowly, Tyson pushed into you, taking his time and savoring the way you gripped him, pulling him in in more ways than one. His arms landed on either side of your head, and he pressed his forehead against you as he allowed you both a moment to adjust to the sensation, simply content to just be connected.

Tyson’s hand moved to yours, entwining your fingers together as he began to move, your legs finding their place wrapped around his hips as he pushed into you. He pressed kisses against your lips and on your cheeks, showering you with affection as he took his time to find his rhythm.

He remained slow and steady, keeping his thrusts firm and forceful, allowing you to feel each inch of him as he moved inside you. You could feel his hot breath against your face, whispering declarations of love against your skin.

Tyson poured every emotion from the last five years into you, kissing away all of the unspoken words and forgotten memories, vanished with each pump of his hips. This wasn’t a mistake, though, if you thought about it, neither of the past times had been a mistake, either.

It didn’t take long for your high to build, cresting with a cry of his name. He wasn’t far behind you, eyes holding with yours as he, too, reached his peak with a Kiwi whispered against your lips. When his hips stilled against you, he stayed for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being so connected with you, body and soul.

You couldn’t help the smile on your face, even when he pulled out with a sigh, tying off the condom and tossing it in the direction of the bathroom. He couldn’t bother to stand up, not willing to be parted with you for a second, instead pulling you into his arms as he caught his breath.

“You’re telling me that’s what we’ve been missing out on this whole time?”

With a snort, you said, “You kind of lived across the country until just now, Tys.”

“Still,” he wrapped an arm over your shoulders, “I’m kinda pissed it took us this long.”

You hummed, silently agreeing with him. Now that you’d taken the plunge, you couldn’t remember what you were so hesitant for in the first place, life before today a distant memory.

“Will you go on a date with me? A real one, with dinner and flowers, when we get home?”

“It’s a little late for that,” you laughed, gesturing to the flimsy sheet covering your naked body.

“I guess we’ve done everything out of order,” he chuckled, “but first dates are important.”

“Okay,” you smiled and nodded. “A date. Pick me up at 6. And you better hold the door open for me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A comfortable silence fell over you as you enjoyed the peace of the moment, cuddled into his body and in the warmth of his strong arms. You listened to the steady beat of his heart while his fingers drew lazy circles into your shoulder blade, content to never leave the bed for the rest of your life.

“Tyson?”

“Hm?”

“I love you, too.”

He broke into a grin, looking down at you to see it in your eyes before he leaned forward to kiss you. You kissed back, pouring all of the love that had been bottled up in your heart for him over the last two decades into him, hoping he knew.

By the look on his face when he pulled away, he did.

“So I guess the third time is the charm, then, huh?”

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