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kdogreads · 11 months

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Ain’t Woman Enough

Gibbs x f!reader

Warnings: jealous!reader, slight angst but mostly fluff and flirting, allusions to smut but no actual smut

A/N: This song popped up on shuffle and this fic just came to me. Enjoy!

Thank you @daphne-bourne for reigniting my Gibbs love and finally getting this out of my drafts! 💕

You walked with a certain pep in your step as you made your way to the front lobby of the NCIS building where you knew your man would be waiting for you. It was nice working in the same building, him in the investigative unit and you in legal, since you could meet up for coffee breaks or after the workday. It had been such a long, frustrating day today and you couldn’t wait to fall into his embrace.

To your surprise, he wasn’t sitting at his usual spot with a coffee in his hand and another on the table for you. No, he was standing near the small café with a wide smile on his face, hands in his pockets, and a tall, lean, red-headed woman in front of him.

You slowly made your way down the long staircase to the main floor of the lobby, your gaze never leaving your boyfriend and his new friend. She was laughing and putting her hand on Jethro’s bicep as you approached. He must have said something that was just so funny. A hot blush swells over your chest.

“Jethro,” you practically spat, clearing your throat and taking a step closer. His eyes met yours and his features immediately softened into a real smile, much different than the fake one he was sporting just a moment ago.

“Hi sweetheart,” The words flow off his lips in that deep baritone honey you love so much. You raise your brow, glancing over to the mystery woman quickly, trying your hardest not to give in to his knee-weakening gaze.

“Oh Jethro, is this one of your fellow special agents?” The woman questions. It takes everything in you to not slap her right across her primped face. Patience is a virtue you remind yourself in your head

Rather than letting him answer the question, you step closer to him and place a hand firmly on his shoulder, balancing yourself to reach up and kiss him sweetly and deeply. Usually you wouldn’t show such affection in public, but you had a point to make. You can hear an audible gasp coming from the red-headed hussy behind you.

Your lips lock with his over and over, tongue poking onto his lower lip. Jethro grabs at your arm with a harsh grip, practically asking you “What the hell has gotten into you?” With only his fingertips. A soft hum escapes your lips as you finally pull away and you meet Jethro’s wide-eyed expression with your smug one.

“Very special,” You purr, reaching over to swipe a smudge of lipstick off of his lip. Out of the corner of your eye you see Jethro trying desperately to hide a cheeky smirk from spreading across his face.

“Oh, Jethro was just telling me how close your team is, but I, uh, didn’t realize you were, so um—“ The woman stammered and straightened up, fidgeting with her blouse, suddenly unsure what to do with her hands.

Jethro’s hand slides down to land on your lower back and he presses a short peck to your temple. You can barely feel the small gust of air expelling from his nose as he stifles a laugh.

“Some more than others,” He finally breaks the uncomfortable (for the mystery women) silence.

“Well it was lovely to meet you,” You begin facetiously, “Better be on our way, hm Jet?” You slide your hand into his and turn to head towards the door.

She just stands there speechless, probably for the first time in her life, and watches the two of you walk away, hand-in-hand.

You make it out the door and into the warm summer evening air before Jethro lets out a laugh. Your eyes meet his as your hands raise to your hips, one popping out to the side, just waiting for him to speak first.

“Green is a new color on you, sweetheart,” He laughs and pulls you into a sweet hug, still chuckling snd shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” You sigh into his warm, broad chest, “I didn’t mean to make a scene. I just, I didn’t like the way she was talking to you — flipping her hair, grabbing your arm,” You mock her movements in a most exaggerated fashion, pulling another honey-glazed laugh from your man.

“Just an old friend, killer,” He reassures you, pulling your hand up to meet his lips while you just stand there, defeated.

“Mhm, you have a lot of old friends around here, player,” You raise an eyebrow at him again, jabbing your finger jokingly into his chest, “Especially red-headed ones.”

He lowers his chin to meet your gaze head-on, the hint of a smile yanking on one side of his closed lips. He grumbles something akin to “c‘mere” and pulls you into him again, one hand meeting the small of your back and the other resting at the base of your neck. His long, thick fingers snaked over your loose hair and pulled it over your shoulder so one ear was exposed. He placed a sweet peck on your lips before trailing them to the shell of your ear.

“None of them compare to you,” He growls, barely loud enough for you to hear, but you feel the change in his tone immediately. A silly grin spreads across your face as you feel a rush of excitement creep into your chest.

Jethro does something next that sends that heat straight down to your lower half. He slides the hand that was planted on your back down and plants a swat on your butt that sends a shiver up your spine. He rarely shows you that kind of affection out in public.

It was when you lifted your eyes to meet his in surprise that you spotted Tony and McGee walking up to you, likely just wanting to say and instead getting a free show. Tony had wider eyes than you’d ever seen before and Tim was turning every shade of red.

“Uh, hey you,” Tony greets timidly, “Boss.” He can’t seem to meet either of your eyes. McGee just smiles and adjusts the collar on his shirt nervously.

“Hi boys!” You let out a laugh and tuck yourself into Jethro’s shoulder, pretending to hide your face, while he wraps a strong arm around your waist. He’s suddenly got the same stern look he always seems to have around his team.

“Have a good weekend, agents,” Jethro says with a certain lilt in his voice that only you seem to catch. Tony and McGee let a stream of “thanks boss,” “you too boss,” “bye guys,” “take care,” fall from their still-shocked mouths as you wave and start heading for the car per Jethro’s strong hand on your back guiding you that way.

You look up at him and his stern expression finally breaks, the corners of his mouth turning up into a knowing smile. He leans slightly and presses a kiss to your temple as you hurriedly make your way home so you can continue what he started.

#Spotify #leroy jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs imagine #jethro gibbs x reader #gibbs x reader #gibbs imagine #gibbs fluff #kdogreads #ncis imagine #ncis reader insert #ncis gibbs #ncis fanfiction #fluff #NCIS fluff #reader insert

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maple-the-awesome · 10 months

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When Another Finds Out About His Crush Part 1/3

Part 2 || Part 3

Pairings: Four, Hyrule, Legend x GN Reader

Overview: What happens when someone else in the Chain finds out about his feelings towards you?

Zelda Masterlist 💙 Fandom Masterlist

How is it that today has been so peaceful? Seriously, when was the last time the group got a chance to breathe for a second, let alone actually take a moment to enjoy themselves like normal Hylians who don't have to constantly deal with the weight of the world upon their shoulders?

Maybe it's because of the last battle which left most of them pretty battered - too battered to dive head first back into another hoard of monsters right away. Perhaps the Old Man finally got tired of their constant whining and bickering which had grown in volume over the course of the last few days, leading him to pacify them with a quick break. It's probably a combination of those two things, but whatever the true reasoning for this blessing, Four plans to enjoy it - at least he's trying his best to.

He won't complain. It's nice getting to sit here in the sun, enjoying its warm beams that pair sweetly with the cool breeze that carries itself up from the spring where the majority of his traveling partners currently splash around, their joyful cheers making all sound right with the world. Of course, this scene of an early summer would be so much better if not broken every few seconds by Four's sneezing.

His nose is probably red and eyes possibly a bit puffy, but he tries not to care. He's too focused - too distracted with the many thoughts running through his head to begin fussing over some mild allergies.

'Loop over that...Now tie here...'

'Maybe we should've chosen different flowers -'

'- No. We can't admit defeat to a stupid flower. We're seeing this through, damn it!'

'I wasn't suggesting that we give up. Only that we reevaluate our clearly flawed plan. This field is filled with flowers. We can take our pick.'

'Ooo, I like the poppies over there! Let's use those!'

'No! Poppies aren't good enough. Must I remind you why we're using daisies in the first place?!'

Four sighs heavily, his hands collapsing to his lap. The tangled flowers resting in his touch are a pathetic excuse for a 'craft'. If anything, they look no different from flowers that have been tugged from the ground then tossed around in a bag for a few shakes. It's rather shameful considering how long the minish took to teach him the careful art of weaving flower stems together. Are some watching him now, shaking their heads in confusion as to how someone can be struggling to this extent? Of course, it would be easier if he switched to practically any flower other than daisies, but he's committed to seeing this through as is, no changes.

Four's harsh thoughts only break away temporarily when noticing the wolf that saunters through the meadow towards him, likely chased away from the cold shadows that have begun casting over his former resting place closer to the spring. Over here in the sun it’s much warmer, so there’s no surprise when the wolf invites himself to sit next to Four, giving a curious look to the flowers on his lap that asks the question without words being needed.

"I'm trying to make a crown," Four answers, lifting the string of stems up with one finger to let the wolf get a closer look which he does by leaning forward and taking a sniff. To him, the craft is impressive, looking far more detailed and put together compared to the flower crowns he's personally made with the children of his village, although it's clear that the Smith is having trouble accepting his own talent by the way he leans his cheek against the palm of his hand with a huff.

"Normally I can make them pretty quickly with fewer mistakes or tears in the stems and petals, but today I just can't get it right. No matter how many times I attempt one, it never looks good enough," Four explains further, his words drawing Wolfie's eyes to the several drafted flower crowns abandoned off to the hero's side. Then suddenly, the wolf's attention is drawn back to Four with a start when he sneezes loudly.

Sniffing, he gives the slightly startled animal a pitiful look, "...Oh, and it doesn't help that I'm allergic to daisies..."

Wolfie tilts his head to the patch of poppies growing no more than two feet away from them.

"No, I can't...Daisies are easiest to make flower crowns with. They, um, have longer stems."

Woflie tilts his head further, showing doubt over Four's claim, yet in this form, it's not like he can truly call him out. All he can do is make himself comfortable, lying down among the tall grass where he can bare witness to the poor smith's torture as he goes back to weaving flowers into a circle, the only interruption to the silence between them being his repetitive sneezes and eventually a pair of footsteps approaching from the spring.

"Hey, we're missing you down at the water! Whatcha doing all the way up here by your lonesome?" It's no surprise that you're wearing a smile - Alright, it might've been a surprise a few hours ago when all you did was scowl or pout about your aching feet, but ever since Time allowed the group a break, you've been nothing but smiles and rainbows, a look Four prefers on you due to how contagious your enjoy never fails to be.

Immediately upon looking up, a smile pulls at his own lips and all of his muddled thoughts wash away into one. Even his voice is light as a feather without giving you any hint to his prior irritation; a complete contrast to how he had been seconds ago when Wolfie first joined him, "I'm not the biggest swimmer and even if I were, that scream Sky gave when jumping in was enough to convince me of my decision to stay up here."

"Yeah, it's ice water, but hey, anything beats sore feet at this point," You place your hands on your hips with a chuckle, sparing a quick glance back at the rest of the boys before your attention returns to Four, "Making flower crowns, I see?"

He nods, fiddling with the one in his hand which he seems to stare at for some time (truly it was only a few seconds for anyone except himself) before he holds the craft up towards you, "...I thought you'd like one."

"Really? For me?" The bashful smile he wears is easily missed as you awe over the flowers, delicately running your fingers over each petal. Like Wolfie, you see none of the flaws Four concerns himself with. Instead, you see a beautiful collection of near perfect daisies (only a few petals missing here and there) all weaved together in a strong pattern that keeps them from falling apart, "Oh, this is incredible…Wow, you truly are a talent to behold, aren’t you Smithy?"

He officially blushes, rubbing the back of his head with a wide smile he tries to maintain, "I can't take all the credit. I learned from the minish."

"You're too modest," You shake your head in mock annoyance, although the delight in your eyes never fades as you look over the flowers some more, "You know, daisies are actually my favorite, too."

"You don't say," Four picks at the petals on his lap, trying to act as casual as possible, "What a coincidence..."

You open your mouth to say something else, however you don't get the chance when a shout is suddenly heard from the spring followed by a loud splash. Four would've been curious to see what the commotion was, but he's currently in too much of a daze to follow where Wolfie and you look. Surely it's not that important judging on your calm sigh anyways.

"Aaand I'm pretty sure that's the sound of Vet drowning the Captain. Seeing as I would like Time to keep giving us breaks in the future, I should probably go handle everything before he comes back," As disappointed as Four is to hear you’ll be leaving him so soon, he forgets all about that feeling when you place your flower crown on top of his head, your hands hovering there as you give him a gentle smile. He could’ve sworn he even felt your breath blow against his face given your close proximity, but maybe that was just the optimistic side of him, "Keep this safe for me, please? I’d hate for your hard work to get ruined."

"Uhhh...Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'll protect it with my life."

"Thanks. Now if you two will excuse me…" After patting Wolfie’s head goodbye and winking to them both, you race back down to the spring, shouting something to the other boys with a fierce tone that is the exact opposite to how sweetly you always speak to Four. He might've had a little nerve to either fear you or admire your anger (which can be kinda hot), although he merely sighs lovingly in distracted thought he only leaves when happening to catch that knowing stare Wolfie is giving him in the corner of his eyes. Now, wolf or not, Four can once again understand exactly what that type of smug look means without words.

Pushing Wolfie away halfheartedly, he huffs, "Don't say anything and we'll be even."

"Do you think you could teach me how to cook this dish?"

Pour Four nearly chokes on his own spit when the question meets his ears. Teach Hyrule to cook? Now he knows all of his fellow heroes come equipped with many talents, but surely there's a line to be drawn!

Of course, Wild has a much milder reaction to this 'challenge', in fact, he's actually happy to be granted something to do seeing as he's been grounded to camp after his latest 'stunt', as Twilight referred to it. So, raising his attention up from the supplies he’s been taking inventory of, he glances over the wobbly handwriting on the paper that Hyrule holds out towards him, the Traveler trying not to look either too hopeful or too nervous.

"...I mean, I'm willing to teach you to cook, but are you sure you want this recipe? It’s not intended for beginners...Not to mention we might not have all the ingredients..." Taking the paper into his own hands and whispering to himself in thought distracts him from Hyrule's gulp, "We might be better off trying something else -"

"- No!" Hyrule bites his lip when Four and Wild's gazes jump to him, clearly surprised by his tone. Shifting on his feet, Hyrule tries to clear his throat as a poor attempt at acting 'natural', "I, uh, would really like to try this recipe. It sounded pretty good when the baker explained it, plus we've been traveling for so long and it's not everyday that we get to try something like it - Oh! And I already have all the ingredients. 'bought them in the last town we went to."

Hyrule hopes he isn’t coming off as too pushy or, in the worst case scenario, desperate. This plan is nerve wracking as it is, thus the last thing he needs is anyone asking questions, after all, he already had a close call when you caught him leaving that bakery during your stay in town.

When you saw him leave without buying anything, you assumed he was being rupee-cautious and offered to buy him something sweet if that was what his heart desired. You’re kind like that, always keeping an eye on him and doing your best to hype him up as being just as worthy of the hero’s title as everyone else. That’s why he couldn’t possibly have told you then that you’re what his heart desires most. No, that would’ve been too weird and cliche, even he knows that. You deserve a better confession (whenever he finds the courage for that), but in the meantime, he can at least show you his gratitude through gifts which is why he currently stands here mentally praying for Wild’s help; he’s his only hope at this point!

The Champion looks inside the pouch Hyrule had quite literally tossed at him, the Smith also sneaking a peek from over his shoulder. Comparing the written ingredients to those in the pouch, they confirm that everything is there (surprisingly no weird foods that Hyrule somehow manages to find).

"...Well, the Traveler's right about one thing: we don't usually get a chance to eat sweets on the road, not to mention everyone's been a bit stressed since our last battle. Maybe a treat would be a good way to lift spirits," Four suggests, although the words feel as if they must be pushed through his teeth. Already, his stomach tosses and turns in memory of the last 'dish' Hyrule made which resulted in seven of the ten heroes getting food poisoning and Hyrule receiving a permanent ban from the kitchen ever since.

Wild hums in thought then, to Hyrule's joy, nods and hands him back the recipe, "Alright. Let's get started."

Thinking back to it now, the request seemed so easy to him. Unlike the others who usually see their lives flash before their eyes at the thought of Hyrule's cooking, Wild has actually enjoyed most of his meals including the one that made nearly everyone sick, his only complaint being the need for less salt (a critique that was drowned by out Wind's over the top gagging). With that said, he saw no issue with helping the Traveler complete the desired recipe, however it's always possible for someone to come around to reason, it just took a lot of smoke and heaving, but come around nevertheless.

One minute everything was cooking as it should with a wonderful aroma filling the camp. All Wild did was turn his back. It was only seconds - that's it, seconds - before the cooking pot exploded into a puff of smoke and sparks. Since then, it's been utter havoc which is normally the word everyone else uses whenever Wild and Hyrule get paired, but today, Wild's admitting it himself. Is this usually how stressed Twilight feels?! If so, then he's sorry! He doesn't have time to actually apologize and will most likely forget by the time he sees his mentor again, but dear Hylia, he's sorry!

It's by the grace of the goddesses that no one comes running back to camp to find the scene that would await them if they did: Wild and Hyrule working together to frantically stomp out the flames before they reach any supplies or burn down the entire forest. Even then, evidence of their crimes remains in the form of charred grass and the coat of soot that covers Hyrule's face, stretching his bangs to the sky as his eyes carry a certain daze to them. Maybe now that he's literally had his work blow in his face, he can finally admit that his cooking might not be the best in the group's.

"What did you do?!"

"I didn't do anything!" Hyrule meets Wild's shout, however he soon falters and pokes his fingers together innocently with a mumble, "...I thought you said that monster parts can give dishes effects..."

“Yeah, some…” Wild's face drops, his eyes wide with realization yet he still finds himself asking with a hint of fear to his voice, "What did you add?"

"..."

"Please don't tell me..."

"...Red chuchu jelly..."

"Dear Hylia!"

"I was curious to see what effect it would have!"

“It blows up! That’s the effect it has!”

"Do I even want to know what's going on here?"

Oh Goddesses, please kill him now...Hyrule had hoped if anyone, it would be the Old Man or maybe even the Captain who came running back to scold them, but you? Oh, you’re the last person he wanted to see this!

To be fair, you still aren't as bad as one of the stricter adults who would’ve immediately accessed the situation and started handing out punishments. Instead, you plan to let them plead their case. Actually, you don't even look that angry, mainly confused and tired as you stand at the edge of camp, arms crossed with an expression that's anything except amused (probably because you had the unfortunate fate of being one of the seven who got food poisoning from Hyrule's last ‘cooking’ attempt).

Before either boy can begin explaining themselves, you sniff the air and immediately scrunch your nose as a reaction to the awful smell that burns it. Hyrule swears you even gag, although it's hard to tell because of how fast you shoot a hand up to cover the whole lower part of your face.

"What in Hylia's name were you trying to make? It smells like bokoblin guts!"

Hyrule shrinks even further into his embarrassment, "...It was supposed to be a fruit cake..."

"A fruit cake?"

"Hyrule wanted to learn how to cook and had the recipe for one. It just...didn't go as planned," Wild rubs the back of his neck, sparing a pitiful glance at the smoldering gunk that sticks to the cooking pot. It'll be a pain to clean later, that's for sure.

"Obviously,” You roll your eyes followed by a frown as you look to the cooking pot yourself with more sympathy than pity, "...But it’s a shame. I love fruit cake."

Wild blinks, his eyes shifting from you to Hyrule as the gears inside his head begin to turn. Meanwhile Hyrule tries to clear away the soot from his face with a quick drag of his sleeve, however he only makes matters worse by smearing it, "I'm sorry. I really wanted it to turn out right for you, but…I guess I should’ve just bought a cake at that bakery, huh? …I’m not cut out for cooking myself…”

Your frown remains as does that look of sympathy. Stepping forward, you take your canteen from your hip and dump a little water over the very edge of your cloak. By the time it's properly soaked, you're standing in front of Hyrule and using the cloth to wipe away the scoot from his face. Your attempts are far more successful than his, getting most of the gray off at the cost of your clock taking on the shade itself, not that you show any care.

"I'm sure you'll get the hang of it some day, 'rule. It's something that requires practice and patience. After all, I'm sure Wild wasn't as good of a cook from the start as he is now.”

"Umm -"

"- Shush."

And with that, Wild immediately puts his hand down with a pout.

"Start out with some simple dishes first, then whenever you get the basic skills of cooking down, I'll teach you how to properly make fruit cake. How about that?"

Hyrule's eyes nearly sparkle at the offer. Sure, Wild is his partner in crime when it comes to getting into unnecessary trouble, however he'd much rather have you as his cooking partner (and maybe his partner in everything else, too, if he can one day get that far). That's likely why he nods too quickly, his bangs still being stuck upright which prevents them from bobbing with the movement for once.

You chuckle at his excitement and go to leave camp to return to whatever you had been doing before, although you do stop to ruffle his hair, reminding him to wash it when he gets a chance (words he doesn't hear because he’s too busy obsessing over the feeling of your hand running through his hair).

"You know -" Hyrule jolts out of his trance, cheeks red at the realization that he had forgotten all about Wild who stands with most his wait shifted to the side, arms crossed and a smirk pulling at his lips, "- Usually when you like someone, the best thing to do is to try not poisoning them."

"I-I wasn't - That's not what I -"

"- We still have some ingredients left over. Let's start from the top," Wild merely shakes off Hyrule’s rambling, something the Traveler is thankful for as he begins to trail after his friend back to the cooking pot, however he stops dead in his tracks when Wild suddenly spins around to point a wooden spoon at him, "BUT, no more adding anything that isn't in the recipe when I turn my back or else I'm warning (Y/n) that they'll have to be doing all the cooking in your relationship…Hylia knows I can’t afford getting in trouble again with Twilight...”

Hyrule gulps and nods more timidly than he had with you, "W-Will do."

This was a mistake and the worst part is that Legend knew it before he even committed to the decision. He knew it would be a bad idea to 'invite' nine others into his home, even if it was to be a temporary trip, yet he opened the doors to mayhem anyway.

He blames his own tiredness, if anything. He didn't really feel like presenting a good argument as to why everyone should remain outside, which would've been especially difficult to pull off given the blazing sun above. No one wanted to just ‘wait outside’, not when their curiosity was overflowing at the thought of all the cool things the Vet must be hiding inside his home. So ever so foolishly, he let them in, underestimating the exact extent of annoyance he'd be instantly cursing himself with.

"Don't touch that!"

"Get away from there!"

"Hey, those are delicate! Put them down!"

"No, I am not playing any music! I'm just here to switch out my weapons. Just - STOP SHIFTING THROUGH MY STUFF! HAVEN’T YOU EVER HEARD OF SOMETHING CALLED ‘PRIVACY’?!"

"...You can borrow that if you want."

Surely some of the heroes snapped their necks by how quickly they turned towards Legend, surprised to hear him speak in a tone not laced with vexation nor raised in a shout. Actually, his words are rather soft - soft for him, at least.

Even you're surprised, although it's not for the same reason as the others. Hearing the Vet's voice behind you, you practically leaped out of your skin and prepared yourself for the same harsh scolding as everyone else has received, so it takes you a second to process what he had really said instead.

You blink once then twice (the rest of the group does, too) before glancing down at the ring you have pinched between your fingers. There's a small chest filled with them in front of you, each somehow different from the other whether that's because of the color of the band or the types of gems decorating them. Of course, you only planned on looking over them with your eyes, not wanting to disrespect Legend's privacy (and not wanting to be shouted at either), but that was before one ring in particular caught your eye. Your interest couldn't be tamed at that point, leading you to pick up the piece of jewelry for closer inspection which lands you in your current situation.

Turning to face Legend, who only boredly glances at the ring in your hand before going back to his own business, you open your mouth to say something - perhaps ask if he's serious because you most definitely misheard, right? He's going to let you borrow something of his? After getting so peeved about everyone else simply touching his stuff? You aim to be safe and confirm permission, yet the question doesn't have a chance to leave your lips before someone else beats you to it:

"What?! How come they get to take something? I wanna ring!" It's Wind and his objection makes sense seeing as he had just been looking over the same jewelry box moments ago only for Legend to swat his hands away. He isn't the only one to see the hypocrisy either.

"Can I borrow this?" Wild asks, holding up a boomerang with a hopeful smile that nearly distracts from the glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

"No, you can't!" Legend hisses, quick to rip his tornado rod out of Warrior's hands while he's at it much to the Captain's offense.

"Oh come on! What makes (Y/n) so special, eh?!"

"They're responsible," Legend dismisses stubbornly with a wave of his hand as he turns his back to them again. The others merely roll their eyes in annoyance, Warrior mumbling something under his breath that sounded a lot like 'simp' much to Legend's frustration, but before he can bite back, he mostly forgets all about them when you finally get a chance to speak up for yourself.

"You're sure it's no trouble?"

Legends fears he might have stared at you a bit too long - not that you would've noticed seeing as you keep your eyes focused on the ring you fiddle with. Despite how much you try to act neutral as to not get your hopes up, there's a giddy joy to your eyes at the thought of getting to keep this ring even if just for a little while, after all, it's so beautifully crafted and the red rubies attached to the golden band remind you of Legend in a way you'd prefer not to explain in front of everyone else, let alone with him present.

"...Yeah, it's no problem," He looks away quickly, blowing some air which fixes his bangs out of his view. If anyone were to spend more time studying his behavior (Hylia forbid it), they might notice how awfully red his face has suddenly gotten, "...Just don't lose it."

Truthfully, he doesn't care. If it were just the two of you, he'd actually tell you to keep it since he has plenty of rings anyways, not to mention it would give him some peace of mind for you to always have a protection ring handy, but he can't risk saying that here. The others are already questioning him too much and the last thing he needs is either Wild or Warrior picking up on the hint. Maybe he’ll just wait for when you try to return the ring so that he can play it off better by simply pushing it back towards you and giving some excuse like ‘I didn’t even miss it’ or ‘I actually don’t need any more junk now that I think about it’. You wouldn’t suspect a thing then nor would anyone who overhears.

"Thank you! I promise to take really good care of it!" At last, you take no shame in letting your delight show and waste no more time sliding the ring over your finger.

Legend just nods, burning through all of his willpower to not keep stealing glances your way. Fortunately, it doesn't take him much longer to locate the weapons of his desire, allowing him to finally herd everyone out of his house while continuing to deny their requests to borrow some items for themselves. Hyrule is the last straggler, something Legend originally wouldn't have thought much of since the Traveler isn't one to usually cause him trouble, although there's a first time for everything as it would seem.

"Congrats on the engagement," It's such a smug comment to come from someone who looks nothing but innocent as he saunters by, in fact it takes Legend's brain several seconds of spinning before he understands the implication and with it, his confusion instantly melts into a mix of fury and embarrassment (which one is at the head could be anyone's guess).

"T-They asked and I have plenty of rings, so there was no point in me turning them down! It's not an 'engagement'!"

Hyrule merely chuckles in the face of Legend's anger, "Don't worry. I won't say anything."

Legend huffs, taking it upon himself to push Hyrule towards the exit so that he can sooner leave this mess behind, however before he can begin to feel too comfortable, the Traveler speaks up again while casually picking up a gauntlet off the nearby table Legend leads them by, "This is cool.”

Legend glares; a deadly look Hyrule once again meets with too much innocence - mocked innocence, the Vet is now convinced - nothing but an act!

"You know, it would be a shame if someone like Warrior or Wild realized why you only do nice things for (Y/n). If they connect the dots for themselves -"

"- You can borrow it," Legend cuts Hyrule off in a hurry, pushing the gauntlet into his hands while shoving him out the door, "But I want it back in one week, you hear? That's all the time you've bought yourself with, you rat!"

#linked universe #link x reader #linked universe x reader #lu four x reader #lu hyrule x reader #lu legend x reader #legend of zelda #reader insert #x reader

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omgpoindexter · 5 months

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more nurseydex fics!!!

i’ve been doing my duty properly and reading some different nurseydex fics on ao3 lately 🫡 i tried to find some that are more recent, however i inevitably found some that are older but slipped through the cracks for me.

here are some of the ones i came across that you need to read! i might make this a thing again if anyone is interested, im sure y’all have been much more on the ball with reading nurseydex fics than i have over the years but i do love reccing <3

suddenly this summer it’s clear by @dessertwaffles

The summer before senior year, Nursey and Dex become closer than ever.

Or, Nursey and Dex's developing relationship, as told through their text messages.

i was absolutely grinning the entire way through this. it’s a texting fic, with images rather than plain text (so clever!) but their personalities are so strong and their interactions are just perfect! and you know i love a texting fic

getting used to letting go by @jennybeantime

Dex was supposed to have a fancy job in some city upon graduation, but his plans changed once his uncle died and left the family home in Maine to him. Without immediate obligations of their own, Nursey, Chowder and Farmer follow Dex up there to help him clear it out and clean it up.

this fic is BEAUTIFUL. if you haven’t read it then please do yourself a favour and do it now. it captures certain feelings and emotions so effortlessly and i felt like i was in a little maine bubble living this story with them. i can’t believe i missed this one before, please please read!!

got the feeling you’re the right thing after all by @bisexualnursey

Two and a half years after he breaks up with Dex to go to grad school across the country, Nursey runs into him again when he visits New York for the holidays. What starts as them just rekindling their friendship quickly turns into a whole other thing: a 100% no-strings-attached friends with benefits arrangement while they’re in the same city.

Which is totally chill because Nursey is definitely over Dex. He swears. He’s going back to California soon anyway.

i seriously CANNOT BELIEVE i never read this before but i think i was in my inactive era when this was posted. it’s just so perfect!!! all the feelings and interactions with not only dex and nursey but all the other characters, friends and family, they all felt so real and i loved them so much. i’ll be rereading this a LOT! you should too!!

here i am (leaving you clues) by @averteddeyes

Will loves Nursey. Nursey loves Will. Will isn’t really quite sure how to deal with it.

(Alternatively: Will learns acceptance through poetry, hesitant communication, and brightly colored sticky notes.)

this is really gorgeously written. angst warning, because ouch!!! also poetry as a love language, like a really good selection of poetry, i really enjoyed it and how it weaves into the story. and the bittydex friendship is so important to me!!!

volta by @plusoultres

volta (n.) a turning point or point of change in a poem, most commonly a sonnet.

Or, five times a poem doesn’t reach its intended recipient, and one time it does; five drafts, and one work completed; five turning points, and one ending.

the second fic was inspired by this one, and thank goodness it was because this one totally slipped through the cracks and i’m so glad i read it. their banter is just brilliant and i love the variation in medium, and the poetry is beautiful! i could quote lines from this but im not going to. just. read it

things got weird (when we made out) by @andtimestoodstill

Nursey is being stupid about this. He knows he’s being stupid.

super fun and really cute, i love it when these two are just being idiots. great inclusion of the other teammates too. read it for this line alone: “[You’re doing] That thing where you forget to look like you hate Dex and just stare at him like some Victorian lady who just saw a hot dude for the first time.” because it made me laugh out loud

things that go bump in the night by @smashthatlikebitty

The first time it happens, Dex rolls over and flings so many obscenities in Nursey’s direction that even his Grandmother would have to sit down — and she cursed so much at Dex’s cousin’s wedding that the whole family has been banned from that church ever since.

Nursey just stills in the dark, one shoe off. A languid, infuriating presence. “Chill, man.”

essentially all the times nursey’s clumsy ass wakes dex up in the night. oh how i love pretending these two roomied their way into a relationship! this is so cute, smiled all the way through

some things take two people to build by @cricketnationrise

“You are the single most dramatic person I have ever met,” Dex mutters, trying valiantly to hide his grin.

Or, 5 times Dex wishes their relationship was real +1 time he doesn't have to

this was so fun, yet again i love them being idiots!!! these two in new york city is so important to me. and i for one would LOVE to read the work party 5+1 fic. just saying

#heavily considering doing more of these if anyone’s interested #also y’all are so good in this fandom it’s so INSPIRING !#nurseydex #fic rec

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luvhughes43 · 10 months

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dad jamie drysdale au thoughts💐

jamie & mom (the beginning)

him and mom meet in school! they've basically grown up together but dont start dating until theyre in high school

they break up when jamie gets drafted to the ducks

mom goes to ryerson (tmu ? whatever the new name is) and she studies fashion communication

jamie and mom reunite? at moms grad (jamies there to visit friends who went to ryerson)

after they see each other again they start hooking up whenever jamie is in toronto !

pregnancy + relationship

moms working at a small fashion mag as an editor

she gets pregnant right before jamie leaves again for cali (theyre kind of off and on during summers)

its this whole confusing conversation but mom moves in with jamie and they start navigating their life!

it was a pretty smooth pregnancy overall, mom is just very homesick and a little overwhelmed with how fast her life has changed in the past few months after getting pregnant

jamie was very supportive of mom and was very gentle with how they handled the big transition of toronto - cali

theyre both very cautious of each other and very much in love as everyone around them sees

they fall into their summer habits of being together easily and they never really have a conversation about what they are? until one night mom gets really worked up and in her head and questions jamie what they were doing / if theyre ready for this / "what even are we?"

after that conversation its very clear that they both have strong feelings for each other and have for awhile. just super soft and loving!

baby thoughts

baby lila or laini is born during the springtime! april/may ish

once baby is born (moms working from home for the mag in toronto), she quits her job to take care of the baby as her job was very demanding (she does freelance fashion writing while the baby is young. then she gets back into fashion editing when baby is maybe 1?)

baby is very much a daddy's girl and is just super cuddly

jamie def calls her (if her name is lila) lila-bell, his little duckling, his little love... just so many cute little nicknames

baby definitely gets scared / shy in unfamiliar spaces. definitely takes her awhile to warm up to people and settle. she def clings to her parents in social situations

LOVES her uncle trevor tho! tbh, mom and jamie weren't sure how they'd get along considering trevor is so energetic and loud and baby is so quiet and shy but they make it work! baby definitely comes out of her shell when she's with her uncle trev.

thats all for now im going to post a fic for this au soon so request anything that you'd want to see!🫶

#lila my love au #jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic

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toasttt11 · 13 days

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really well

July 24, 2022

Viola was sitting out on the dock waiting for the sun to start rising, she had a hot chai in a mug in between both of her hands and her favorite very large blankets draped around her.

Viola doesn’t love waking up early but she seems to always wake up early at the lake house to watch the sunrise.

Quinn held a coffee in his hands as he walked through the dewey grass and onto the dock and walked down to his baby sister and sat down next to her.

Viola knew who sat next to her and lifted her blanket up and wrapped it around Quinn, Quinn joins her most mornings she is out here and they always like to go on a run after.

Viola rested her head on her brother’s shoulder and enjoyed the peaceful silence only hearing the ripples of the lake and chirping of the morning birds and watching as the lake look like glass from the night.

“You wanna tell me about this boy.” Quinn soflty asked his baby sister, he’s seen her over the last few months seeing how happy she is on her phone and could hear through their shared wall the many Facetime’s she has with him.

No one besides Cole noticed it but Quinn saw how happy she was when they were watching the draft when a certain player was drafted and Quinn noticed he played on her team and had the same name as the name she gave them, and Quinn knew that was the boy who’s been making his baby sister giggly again.

Viola bit her lip and nodded slightly as she knew Quinn would never tease her in a way that makes her upset, “I met him my first day when i went to get a tour and to see my doctor for the first time.” Viola cleared her throat and brushed her finger over the ring of her mug.

“I wasn’t doing great with my injuries and um he just always kept popping up and making me laugh. Felt like he was the only person who wasn’t looking at me like glass.” Viola hated how much her family, friend and coaches kept looking at her like she was going to break, she understood their worry but it was frustrating the only who didn’t was Cole and then she met Maveric and he just treated her like normal.

“Does he treat you well?” Quinn frowned hating how much she was going through this last year and how he couldn’t be there more for her but he was glad she had found someone who made her laugh on the hard days.

“Really well.” Viola smiled brightly, they aren’t even together yet and he treats her like a princess.

“Are you guys together?” Quinn smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulder giving her a squeeze.

“No, not yet.” Viola just shrugged she wasn’t worried, Maveric has been very honest about his feelings for her and she knows he likes her but they didn’t want to start a relationship before summer especially because it’s his draft year and he’s crazy busy all summer.

“We are going on a date when i get back.” Viola blushed slightly remembering how he asked to take her out on a date the other day when they were facetiming.

“I’m happy you’re happy Vio. I’m so proud of you.” Quinn kissed the top of her head and Viola beamed back always being slightly bashful from praise.

“Thank you Quinny.” Viola mumbled back.

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allbark-no-bite · 2 years

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Meet Me In the Middle || Elvis Presley x reader

summary: it is all too easy to give and take when the lines of platonic love become blurred. or in which you’ll alway be Elvis’ little girl

warnings: 18+, sexual content, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, the usual swearing

word count: 5k

author’s note: low key I’m really proud of this one. thank you all for the love and support i received on my last fic <33 i literally have so many elvis ideas but not enough time to write them. would y’all want some shorter fics too?

—

Summer was sharing sweet orange slices from the farmers market and the sticky juice that trailed down our arms. Summer was playing tag in the front yard, tousling like rabbits in the the green grass. Summer was late nights spent listening to records together on my full sized bed.

Summer was Elvis. Until it wasn't.

One late night in 1957, summer became the three month notice of a court ordered draft. Summer became the worst three months of my entire life.

—

"You're not actually gonna go though, right, El?" I'm standing at the bottom of the stair case, feet cemented to the last step as I wait for his reply.

Elvis and his mama and daddy all look up at me from where they're gathered in the living room. He drops the hand holding the paper to his side, as if hiding it from my sight would erase it from my mind. Uncomfortably, he clears his throat.

I swivel my head, looking from his mama and then back to Elvis. No one moves to speak, and I break the building tension again as I realize what their silence means. "Elvis!"

He sighs, lifting his hand to rub his brow. "I've got to go, darlin’. I can't—"

I stomp my foot against the wooden staircase and it makes a loud thud that echos through the house. "Tell them you can't! You can't go—you can't leave us!"

Obviously becoming frustrated, Elvis takes a few steps towards the stairwell, waving his draft notice at me. "I've got no choice, alright? It's that or they fucking arrest me!"

"UGH!" I screech, turning on my heels and stomping up the stairs. It's childish of me but had I stayed planted there any longer, the tears burning in the back of my eyes would have made their appearance, and I don’t want him to see me cry.

Elvis shouts after me. "C'mon, really, [y/n]? You're gonna cry? Get back down here!"

I stomp louder, ignoring him, and storm into my room. I slam the door once I'm inside. Elvis hated it when I slammed doors. Once I reach my bed, I rip the sheets off of it and then clamp them shut around me. Only then do I allow the burning tears to start down my face.

Germany. He was going to Germany. Out of the millions of people in the world, what were the odds that they pulled his name. Apparently pretty damn good. What was he thinking? Elvis couldn't fight in a war. Surely the Colonel would have something to say about this. As much as I hated my stepdad, I was certain this was something we could agree on.

My mama had married young. It was a fairytale story in which she'd fallen madly in love with my daddy her senior year of high school and dropped out to marry him then and there. My daddy had been dealt a good set of cards by his own father and was a very successful lawyer down in New Orleans. He died of a heart attack when I was five, leaving my momma his entire inheritance. A few years later, she married a Mr. Colonel Tom Parker. My momma was beautiful, but he had married her for the money. He proved my point by divorcing her two years later, leaving me stuck between two homes.

I loathed the summers that I would be sent to spend with my stepdad. He'd never done ill to me, but again I had little reason to like him either. He tolerated me for three months of the year as his form of child support, and I spent weeks dreading following him and his little circus act around for the sake of 'show business'. That was until I met his up and coming act Elvis Presley.

Once Elvis blew up, the Colonel finally set aside his circus life and moved us to Graceland to focus on the young star full time. Suddenly, I found myself looking forward to leaving behind my mother's beautiful Louisiana estate and spending more and more time in Memphis, Tennessee.

But if I had ever learned anything about my stepfather, it was that he would do anything for the sake of business. Which is why instead of shutting down Elvis' ridiculous notion that he was going to enlist in the army, he encouraged it, hoping to make him some sort of all American hero or whatever he called it.

We throw Elvis a going away party the night before he ships off for Germany. I refuse to attend, spending the evening moping in my bedroom. The happy chatter and music coming from downstairs only serve to worsen my mood.

I wish everyone would just go home so I could sulk in peace.

I kick off the shoes I had worn for the evening and sit with my legs crossed a top my bed. A tattered flannel dog sits where I had left it on my pillow last night, and I pick it up, realizing I had forgotten to put it away.

Elvis had given me the plush dog at the end of the first summer I spent at Graceland. Something to remember him by back home, he had said. For a long time, I never went anywhere without it. But I'd eventually forgotten about the dog and didn't touch it for years. I'd started carrying it around again now that he was leaving.

Knuckles rap softly at my door, but before I can even stand up to answer it, Elvis is pushing the door open and stepping hesitantly into my bedroom.

I glare at him, dropping the flannel stuffed animal to the ground. "I didn't say you could come in."

He ignores my harsh rebuke and crouches down to retrieve the stuffed dog. Methodically, as if lost in a memory, he turns the plush toy over in his hands. I watch as his fingers muse with the soft flannel of the dog's ear. Standing up, he slowly walks towards the bed. "I don't wanna fight tonight."

I turn my head. Between his freshly cut hair and crisp uniform, it's all too much.

The bed dips underneath me, and Elvis places the toy in my lap. "I haven't seen this thing in a while," he comments, prompting me in a futile attempt to get me to talk.

I just shrug, still not looking directly at him. Because I can't tell him that I haven't slept without the stupid plush dog in months now. Can't tell him that because I don't want him to think I'm just some dumb little kid.

"C'mon," Elvis persists, a playful tone to his voice as he nudges his elbow into my side. "Don't go tellin' me you're too grown for that kinda stuff now, lil’ girl."

I set the dog off of my lap, as if wanting to remove it from view and out of the conversation.

"I'll be too grown by the time you're comin' home. Turnin' eighteen next year," I point out bitterly, reminding him that he's missing my birthday.

Elvis is quiet for a moment. "Eighteen don't mean all that much," he finally says. "You'll still be my lil’ girl."

His little girl. His dumb kid sister. It's all just the same, I think. That is all he will ever think of me.

I'd been counting down the days until I turned eighteen, waiting for that growth spurt, waiting for puberty to hit, waiting for the day that I could shake him awake and say, Look. Look at how much I've changed. I'm not your kid sister anymore. I don't want to be your kid sister anymore.

I'd always been his 'lil’ girl'. And for a long time that had been okay. I was fourteen when I permanently moved into Graceland. We were practically raised together. We were best friends and fought like brother and sister. But now that I was older, it was hard to see him like that anymore. He was still my best friend in the entire world, but I'd grown, and I understood a lot more than I did when I was fourteen. I noticed the sharpness of his face now, the childlike roundness gone. I noticed the new fullness of his body and how it balanced out his once lanky frame.

He'd become a man without me realizing it, and I desperately didn't want to be his little sister anymore. But now that he was leaving, none of it mattered. I'd grow up without him there to see it, and he'd move on, find some nice girl in Germany.

Elvis tilts his head, trying to smile at me, his soft pink lips pressed together. "I'll throw you a big party when I get back, yeah? Mama'll make you a cake, and we'll sing 'happy birthday' even if it's the middle of June."

I bite my lip and laugh, thinking about how ridiculous it would be because I know that he's being serious.

God, I'm gonna miss him.

"Two years isn't so long," my voice cracks, and I laugh through the sob as I finally turn towards him. "Right?"

Elvis smiles. "I'll be back before you know it."

—

The day Elvis came back was a cold day in Memphis, Tennessee. The warm weather of budding summer had yet to come, leaving us all bundled up in heavy coats as we waited amongst crowds and crowds of people at the train station. But then again, summers had never been quite the same since Elvis left two years ago.

Gladys held onto my elbow beside me, and I would point out in the direction of each new train that appeared. To my left was my boyfriend of six months. We had met due to some mutual friends and hit it off pretty quickly. He was no Elvis, and so I had been hesitant at first, but he was persistent in asking me out for weeks. I had finally relented, and he surprised me. He was good to me.

"Oh look!" Gladys exclaimed, patting my hand and drawing my attention back to the tracks. "That's him!"

A black train engine approached us, slowing down as it neared and stopped at the station in a whoosh of steam. After a bustle of excitement at the side of the loading dock, I caught a glimpse of his dark black hair. With the help of the conductor and a couple police officers, Elvis began to push his way through the crowd.

He greeted him mama first, hugged her tightly and unabashedly let her kiss his cheeks as he stooped to reach her. He'd grown a lot in two years. Next was his daddy, who's hand he shook firmly and then leaned in, clapping him on the back.

When he got to me, he hugged me like a big brother would do, slinging a heavy arm around my shoulders and drawing me into his side to place a smooched kiss to the top of my head. And then when he pulled away and caught sight of my boyfriend standing at my side, he hardened his blue eyes and squared his shoulders in that same big brotherly fashion, stiffly holding his hand out to shake. If he was angry with me—as he should have been—he didn't show it. I hadn't told him about my boyfriend, but I assumed Gladys had let him on about it.

Moving on after an awkwardly stiff handshake, Elvis greeted the Colonel as well as Sonny and Jerry, and then gathered his things. We went home and life went back normal, exactly as it was before Elvis had left. Everything went back to how it was. We laughed and joked and quarreled as we did before he left, and pretended to ignore the problem the presence of my boyfriend proposed.

For most, Elvis and I’d closeness would have likely torn apart any romantic relationships. We were too comfortable with each other to just be friends, and yet that’s what we where. That’s what we had to be. We took what we could get.

—

What I would have done had I not stumbled into the wall, likely waking up the entire house and causing Elvis to stick his head out of his bedroom door, I honestly don't know. I wouldn't have called him, I think to myself, because brothers aren't supposed to know that their little sister's in bed with a boy. But he's not my brother, and I don't have a choice because before the words leave my mouth, he's pulling me into his bedroom, shielding me from everything except for the view of his wide shoulders that are wedged between the doorframe.

My legs are shaking. My entire body is shaking. I'm lightheaded from crying and my chest burns from all the hyperventilating I was doing moments before. The insides of my legs tingle, and I realize it's because liquid is dripping down them. I don't want to know what color it is. Neither is good, I think.

Out in the hall, I can hear footsteps muffled against the carpeted floor. "[y/n] run off in there?"

Elvis steps further out of the door, still using his body to block me from view. "She got a reason to be runnin'?" His voice is dangerously monotone.

I hear the other voice scoff. He must be standing out in the hall, a safe distance from Elvis. "Look, I didn't do nothin' she didn't ask for."

Elvis looks back at me from over his shoulder, taking in my current state under his gaze. My face burns with shame and humiliation.

His eyeliner black eyes are steely, almost murderously calm. It's the look of someone who's about to kill a man. I know that he notices my lack of shorts and half unbuttoned night shirt because it's his. Stolen from Elvis long ago, it's just long enough to cover the curve of my ass and enough to hide the fact that I'm not even wearing panties. And maybe that is why he doesn't kill the boy on the other side of the door then and there.

"Get out of my goddamn house."

"I didn't—"

"Get out before I break your fucking face in," he snarls.

The noise is enough to stir Jerry, who pokes his head up the stairwell. Ever the peacekeeper, I hear his mellow voice float down the hall. "EP? Everything okay?"

Never breaking eye contact with the boy, Elvis' voice has returned to the chillingly quiet tone. "Get to stepping, pal," he growls. I can picture his face, white teeth bared into a menacing snarl like one of those dogs who's yard the postman stays away from.

There is a heavy pause in the conversation and then I hear loud footsteps descending the stairs. The front door slams shut.

The moment he retreats from the door, I'm clinging to him, grabbing at his soft satin shirt and hiccuping into his chest. His palm cradles the back of my head, hugging me into his body. His presence is comforting enough to stop my trembling, but when he pulls me away from his chest, another sob escapes my mouth.

"Please, you can't tell the Colonel, El." I reach for him again, just wanting to be held.

He holds my shoulder at arms length, worried blue eyes taking me in. "What happened, lil’ girl?"

Another sob rakes through my chest, tearing at my raw lungs and choking up my throat. My hand grabs at his shirt, desperate to hold on to him. "I thought I was ready. I really did." I'm swallowing spit as I talk, still trying to breathe and cry at the same time. "And then I couldn't— He wouldn't—"

Elvis' jaw hardens and he lets me push myself into his chest again, hushing my cries. "Okay, okay. It's okay, darlin'."

I hiccup into his shirt, pressing my cheek to his chest. The heavy thrum of his heart pounds against my ear. He's still breathing hard, holding me securely against him. "El, You can't—"

"I ain't gonna tell no one, lil’ girl, alright?" Elvis states firmly, as if to put my worries to an end once and for all.

"Hey." Elvis takes half a step backwards, doing his best to detach me from his body. I let out another halfhearted sob again, my eyes blurry and red from crying. "Hey—now, enough of that. Let's clean you up." His tone is firmer than I would have expected, but it works enough to sober me up.

I nod, emitting one last hiccup and dragging the backs of my hands over my eyes.

Walking into his bathroom, Elvis sits me down on the closed toilet seat and after running a wash rag under the warm sink water, crouches in front of me. Suddenly I'm in grade school again, waiting for him to clean my scraped knee because I never did know what was good for me.

"Gonna clean you up, 'kay, darlin'?" His tender blue eyes hold mine.

The wet clothe drips onto the ground and his finger tips ghost up my thigh, brushing aside the shirt bundled at my waist. I see his hands tremble, and he swallows as his eyes take in my bareness. He's realizing I'm not wearing panties. Elvis sniffs and squeezes my knee with one hand. Wordlessly, he brings the wash clothe softly between my thighs.

I twitch slightly at the sensation, wanting to mewl and push his hand away, but I remain still as he works. He won't look up at me as he tenderly drags the clothe between my legs, focused on ridding me of every memory of tonight.

It's a terribly strange experience, having someone who is so close to you care for you in such a compromising position. And yet there's a mutual understanding there that says, 'this is okay with me so long as it's okay with you'.

Finally, the feel of the clothe disappears, but Elvis remains crouched, his head between my knees. He's so close that I feel his breath on me.

I imagine his nose brushing my bare cunt.

The problem was that I was exactly the kind of pretty that he picked out in girls every weekend and sought out after shows, and we both knew it.

The problem was that I was his little girl who's boyfriends he ran off and runny nose he wiped.

He sighs and kisses the inside of each of my knees. "C'mon. Let's get you in the shower, lil’ girl." He sits back on his heels and stands up, tossing the red stained rag into the bin.

I watch from the toilet seat as he turns on the water for the shower that he doesn't even like. Elvis had a preference for baths and I knew because he alway requested a room with one wherever he stayed. The only reason he had a shower at Graceland was because it was easier to have sex in.

I knew this because I'd asked him one day as I laid sprawled across his mattress, flipping through a magazine. He was in the shower at the time, the door half ajar as he had left it, the steam of the shower spilling through the crack. His girlfriend had just left and he'd run upstairs, tossing his shirt on me as he went. He'd nearly had his jeans off before he even slipped through the bathroom door, and I'd caught a glimpse of his blue boxers.

A while after, as I listened to the spray of the water against the tiles, I'd asked him then and there, why he'd taken the room with the shower and given the other to Jerry.

"What?" he had asked distractedly, his voice raised so that I could hear him.

"How come you got a shower when you don't even like 'em?"

The spray of the shower head cut off and I could hear him moving around in the bathroom. Through the crack of the door, I could see his reflection in the mirror as he preened at his wet ebony hair.

"Just easier I recon. When you have a girl over, I mean."

Elvis was nearing the cusp of twenty himself and so the topic of sex was not new nor uncomfortable to him. Besides, I was just his kid sister.

I was sixteen at the time and had no real concept of what it meant to me when he brought girls over. I guess I knew that he never grew especially attached to any specific one, and they went out of his life just as quickly as they had come.

"Oh," was all that I had said afterwards, watching him as he walked out of the bathroom, his face flushed red, towel bunched in his hand. Instead of using it to dry off his hair, he tossed it into the laundry bin and grabbed a fresh one.

"Water's probably hot enough—," Elvis says, drawing me from my thoughts.

I tug at the rumpled collar of my—his—night shirt. "Will you..." I swallow away the knot in my throat. "Will you get in with me? I don't wanna..."

No. He's supposed to say no because someone's got to draw the line somewhere. We aren't kids anymore, no matter how desperately we both cling to the idea.

He pauses. "Yeah, sure, sweet thing."

I pull off the silky night shirt without a second thought. It was just Elvis and he'd probably seen me nearly naked a thousand times before. I can see him in the reflection of the mirror behind me, sliding off his own clothes and trying to avoid looking over in my direction. His is cock hard against his stomach.

"Go on," he says, ushering me into the shower, as though intent on pretending his body wasn't responding acutely to the situation. Elvis follows me in, his large frame taking up the bulk of the space.

Tangles of my wet hair falls in cascades down my shoulder. I let the stream pelt into my face, opening my mouth only to breathe and spitting out the water that enters. Rust tinged water swirls down the drain after running down my legs. A hiccup shakes my shoulders and more water flows into my mouth. I hadn't realized I was still crying.

Elvis' arms pull me into his chest, resting just under my breasts, and one hand slides up my throat, tipping my chin up so that I can breathe. "Hey." His bare skin feels foreign against my back. Forbidden in a sense. "Enough of that. Breathe, lil’ girl."

My head falls back limply against his shoulder, and I allow my eyes to close. The steady weight of Elvis' chin comes to rest in the joint of my neck and shoulder as he holds me close. One of his thumbs strokes the swell of my breast, just barley ghosting the bud of my nipple. Even in the hot shower, the action makes me shiver.

"I should have run him off after dinner. Shouldn't have boys around the house this late," he whispers softly.

"I'm grown now, Elvis," I remind him weakly. "I can do what I what."

"And you wanted him?"

I can feel the girth of his arousal against my back. He emits a small huff each time I move. Elvis runs a hand down my body, not stopping until his large fingers are splayed across the expanse of my stomach. His other hand still tweaks at my nipple, cupping the fullness of my breast in his palm.

It feels good enough to make my body feel like putty in his hands. I'd let those hands do anything to me.

"You know, you were the first boy to break my heart?" I say instead.

Elvis sighs heavily against my body, his fingers dig into the soft flesh of my belly. "You were too little, and I was grown," he says in his own way of answering me.

"And now?"

His hand slips from my stomach to slide around the curve of my ass, and he tips his head up to press his nose into my wet hair. "God, I hate the thought that his hands were on you. That he touched you."

I feel his puffy pink lips hover above the tender skin of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. His nose skims the shell of my ear, and he kisses the joint between my neck and shoulder. Elvis's hand travels back around my body, sinking lower lower, until his forefingers just barely ghost my bareness. I whimper as my sensitive cunt clenches around emptiness.

Elvis' mouth is hot against my ear. "Do you trust me?"

There are still faint smudges of dark mascara under my eyes, and I've only just stopped all the ragged, unsteady breathing. I’m still aching and tender. I think about how I didn't think twice about running into his arms, even if I was too ashamed to call for him myself. I'd trust him with my life.

I nod.

"Words. I need words."

I swallow, pressing my nose to the column of his throat. "I've always trusted you."

There's no tension between us as he rubs his fingers against my cunt, tenderly exploring the heat of me. There's no hurry as his fingers prod at my opening, feeling the tightness and resistance of my body. I reflexively push my hips into his hand when his thumb passes over my clit, sending jolts up my spine. The hand holding my body against him tightens, pulling me back into his chest, and he draws his hand away. His fingers spread and my arousal, tinged with red, clings between them. The spray of water slowly washes the color away.

I can feel his silent anger in every breath, how it stalls and then releases. It's evident in the way his body moves around me. "He didn't do nothin' wrong," I whisper timidly. "Just—it was too late by the time I realized I didn't want it to be him."

Elvis stills behind me, and his hand comes up to crane my chin around to look at him. His hooded blue eyes are questioning. "He didn't—"

I sniff embarrassedly, a broken huff of a laugh coming out of my mouth. "Pop my cherry? Not necessarily."

As if soaking in my words, Elvis observes my face, thumbing my bottom lip thoughtfully. Then he dips his head down, capturing my lips with his. His mouth is hot and he licks into my mouth. For a moment, I'm painfully conscious of my youth and the years of experience that he has on me. It's obvious that he's done this before, kissed a lot of girls before me. However, I could get drunk on his taste alone, and I go with it, building confidence as he groans into my mouth.

"Want you to do it, El." His large hands feel up and down my body, and he groans again.

"Yeah?" he asks breathily.

"Yeah."

I nearly stumble as he moves us together as one unit, and my back hits the cold wall of the shower. His body is on mine immediately, and I chase his lips, desperate to taste him again. Our mouths connect, consuming each other, savoring the taste.

A gasp escapes my mouth at the sensation of his fingers prodding at my entrance, but he swallows it, pushing in one finger and then adding another. It's uncomfortable at first, and I squirm at the stretch, but then he's curling his fingers and petting at my velvet walls and my vision swims. My eyes must literally roll into the back of my head because he laughs at me.

"That feel good, lil’ girl?" Elvis hums.

It does but it's not what I want.

My attention goes back to his cock, which still sprung alertly against his abdomen, except now it's a flushed red. The head engorged and swollen, begs to be touched, and when I do, it's Elvis' turn for his eyes to roll into the back of his head. I don't know what I'm doing, and he must realize that because he slides his fingers out of me and cradles my jaw, his other hand wrapping around my fist. With his large hand over mine, Elvis drags my hand rhythmically over his cock. I take a guess and drag my thumb over the tip. His hips buck into my fist.

"So good, sweet girl," he rasps in that throaty southern drawl. After stroking himself a while longer, Elvis pulls my hand away from his cock and instead interlocks our fingers above my head.

His eyes find mine, panting heavily in the sliver of space between us. "I'll be gentle," he promises, and then he's pushing in, the head of his cock pressing deep inside me.

With the slick of my arousal, the stretch is bearable, and quickly turns in to pleasure when he rocks his hips slowly into me. I can feel him hot and full within me. His second thrust is more fluid than the last one, pulling out and then sliding back in one motion. Above my head, my hand squeezes his and he reciprocates the gesture. I keen into his shoulder, biting down each time he drags deliciously in and out of me.

"Doin' so good for me," Elvis praises, kissing my cheeks and neck and lips over and over again. His next thrust has my stomach coiling, bubbling with hot pleasure. When he leans in to kiss me once more, he capture my bottom lip between his teeth and then releases it, leaning in again to kiss the swollen flesh.

"El—" I can hardly utter a coherent sentence. "I'm—" I can feel myself slipping, my mind fogging up.

"It's okay, I've got you. Let go, lil' girl. You can let go."

It feels like a rubber band pops in my stomach, and I moan, clenching around him as I come. Soon Elvis is releasing inside of me as well, claiming my walls with his seed. When he pulls out, I whine at the feeling of emptiness.

Elvis is still pressed into me, as if our bodies have become one entity. His release runs down my legs and pools on the tiles of the shower. Exhausted, I collapse into him. We’re both spent, chests heaving, legs shaking.

He laughs, pecking my swollen lips. "Looks like you need another shower."

#elvis 2022 #elvis presley #elvis presley fic #elvis presley imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley smut

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ahonice · 11 months

Text

Thunder

Thunder - Lana Del Rey

Trevor Zegras x Fem Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: !!!This is a work of fiction, real people in this story are depicted differently then who they truly are!!! Buckle up this one is rough (imo…read note for more context) ANGST, Trevor being a bad boyfriend (I’m sorry, I spun the wheel and he was who it landed on for writing this about like actually I have a wheel to decide who I write about) reader is going through it and cannot catch a break (who can though??) Cursing, drinking (underage, blacking out, drunken confessions)

Note: This is my favorite Lana song ever, it’s so good (also describes my relationship with my ex PERFECTLY) um so this fic is literally just a telling of my past relationship in fiction form. But new series WHOOP WHOOP more Lana song fics coming soon

*Italics are song lyrics*

***

“You roll like thunder, when you come crashing in. Town ain’t been the same since you left with all your friends.”

Trevor Zegras, your alluring, passionate, loving best friend. Trevor Zegras, your manipulative, callous, apathetic boyfriend.

You met Trevor when he moved to Michigan for hockey, he was sitting in your unassigned, but assigned, seat in your study hall period. You told him, as nice as someone could be at seven in the morning on the first day of classes after break, that he was in your spot and he immediately got up and moved to the spot behind you. Which surprised you, most people would be assholes about that and refuse to move because there wasn’t assigned seating in that class. What didn’t surprise you was that the guy you had moved out of your seat was now bothering you.

“Would you stop talking? This is a study hall, people might be doing work or studying, that’s what this period is for.” You told him, not very quietly making others in the classroom turn towards you. After he kept talking to you, well to the back of your head, about how god knows what.

“Sorry, it’s just my first day here and I’m a little nervous.” The boy said, ducking his head in shame, immediately making you feel guilty.

“Oh no I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were new here.” You said, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. “Do you want help figuring out where your classes are?” You offered in hopes to make up for embarrassing him.

“Sure, that would be great” He smiled at you, “I’m Trevor.”

“Y/n.”

***

The two of you hit it off, instantly becoming friends. You drove to school together, you hung out during your study hall period every morning, you sat together at lunch, you both had after school activities but afterwards you would meet up to work on homework or just hang out together. After a few months Trevor had asked you to be his girlfriend, and everything was going great, until it wasn’t.

Trevor was a year above you in school, having met when he was a junior and you were a sophomore. The gap never was an issue until the last month of his senior year came crashing in, he was moving to Massachusetts for college in August and you were staying in Michigan to finish off your senior year. The talk went well, you were worried that Trevor would want to break up because he was leaving and didn’t want to do long distance, but Trevor made it very clear that was not what he wanted and he was fine with doing distance for a year because he was sure you were going to get into any school you applied to and that meant you could go to school wherever he ended up after the draft. You were happy in the moment, but you later wished he would’ve just ended things with you then.

“You roll like thunder, when you come crashing in. Regattas in the wind, that's why you’re visiting.”

The first month of long distance seemed to be going great, over the summer you accompanied him to the draft where he got picked to play for Anaheim. Immediately after the two of you spent time researching schools in California, Trevor freaking out once he realized UCLA was under an hour away from the area where he would be staying.

The second month of long distance went decent, his hockey season began so he was a bit preoccupied, but that was nothing you weren’t used to he had been playing hockey the whole time you were dating. What you weren’t used to was not being in close proximity with him, even with hockey seasons going on the past two years you still were able to see him after his practices got out, now you had to settle for text messages and the occasional phone call.

The third month of long distance is when it all started going to shit, he had a game against the University of Michigan, which you had attended of course, but there was a weird tension between the two of you. There was no flirting, no secret glances which ended in a fit of giggles once you were caught, no sneaking out of his hotel room to meet up with you, he didn’t even take you out to hangout just you two, he kissed you twice the whole time he was there. When he arrived and when he left, they weren’t even real kisses, just grazing of the lips. After he got back to Boston it was radio silence except for one text message.

From: Trev <3

It was nice to see you this weekend.

It was nice to see you this weekend. No I missed you so much, and I miss you even more now that we’re apart again. No I love you, no plans to visit or even call soon, nothing.

“You act like fucking Mr.Brightside when you’re with all your friends, but I know what you’re like when the party ends.”

By the fourth month of long distance your relationship was no longer a relationship, you texted a couple times a day, basically all being stupid imessage games, the only time you got anything close to a real emotion from Trevor was when he was drunk and he called you, he always called when he was inebriated, but you never liked what he said.

“I miss you, but I can’t do long distance anymore.”

“We aren’t the same anymore.”

“Next year when we’re in California I’m worried things will be different between us.”

“I don’t think I love you anymore.”

Each confession was worse than the one before, you’d always end the phone call telling Trevor to call in the morning to properly discuss your future together when he was sober, but he never did and he never remembered the conversations you’d had, leaving you to deal with the drunken confessions yourself, having to stomach knowing that your boyfriend who you love so much no longer feels the same and he won’t even admit it to you.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

Everyday you waited for the text, the one where Trevor asked to talk to you. The one that would result in the ending of your relationship, but it never came. It got to the point where you wanted to do it for him, to rip off the bandaid he couldn’t. You knew you would never though, because even if he didn’t love you anymore, you still loved him, and at the end of this all you hoped next year, when you were living near each other again, everything would go back to normal between you two. You wish you weren’t so naive when it came to him, you knew you needed to break up, if not for his sake, for yours. It was taking a toll on you, on your mental health, on your school work, you ended up with a C in one of your classes at the end of your first semester of senior year, you had never gotten anything but an A, let alone a C.

“You roll like thunder, pouring all your drinks. The parties lit and you, my friend, half cut when it begins.”

The drunken confessions didn’t stop, they only got worse.

“I never opened the gift you got me for Christmas.”

“I hooked up with a girl last night.”

“When people ask if I’m single I say I am.”

“I’m doing amazing down here, without you.”

“When are we gonna break up?”

Each new confession was another knife to the heart, but you just sat there on the other side of the line listening to each new piece of information your boyfriend, if you could even call him that, would give you.

“You roll like thunder, you’re tryna catch that wind. That lightning in the bottle, that moonbeam in your hand.”

Senior prom came around, you weren’t surprised when Trevor told you he wasn’t coming. You didn’t blame him, even if your relationship wasn’t a shit show and he still cared about you in the slightest bit he had hockey stuff going on that night, and besides who wants to go to a high school dance after they’ve graduated?

What did surprise you was the phone call you received after you sent him a picture of you all dressed up, hair and makeup professionally done, the dress you saved up for months to buy.

“Hello?” This would be the first time the two of you would talk on the phone since November where Trevor wasn’t drunk.

“You look beautiful.” Whiplash rang through your body, Trevor had complimented you. He hadn’t done that in months, the smile that had grown on your face quickly dimmed when you came to that realization.

“Trevor, why haven’t you broken up with me yet?” The question coming out of your mouth surprised you. You never thought you would be brave enough to face the reality of your relationship.

“Y/n, what are you talking about?” Trevor’s shocked tone of voice riled up your anger. Had he really not been able to pick up on the very obvious changes between the two of you? Was he that apathetic? Could he not tell how much of a toll this was taking on you? Was he even aware of how much you were hurting everyday just by the thought of him.

“We’ll talk later, please don’t drink tonight. I need to have this conversation with my boyfriend–” The words hurt to say, because he wasn’t your boyfriend and he hadn’t been since August, “-not with the drunk asshole he has become.” You hung up before he could say anything in response.

“And you try to see the brightside when each new day begins, but you’re not satisfied at the rainbow’s end.”

To your surprise, Trevor did end up staying sober that night, he waited by the phone for your call for hours, a nice analogy to how you’ve been spending your Saturday nights since you went long distance. You had gone to an after prom party with your friends and had a little too much to drink. You called Trevor, and this time you spoke the drunken confessions that would break your lover’s heart.

“You break me more and more everyday Trevor.”

“You cheated on me, and told me about it like it was no big deal. Do you remember that?”

“Do you remember when you told me you didn’t love me anymore?”

“I got into UCLA, I’m not going. I’m not following you to California.”

“Somehow, after all of this, I still love you.”

“You have to be the one to end our relationship, because I can’t do it.”

You hung up before Trevor could get a word in, hoping that he would take what you said to heart and finally, officially, break up with you.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

Trevor didn’t do it. He didn’t break up with you, he told you the next day he was determined to make it work. That he wasn’t giving up without a fight, which made you laugh seeing that he had given up and your relationship ended months ago.

The day of your graduation, you walked the stage and heard cheering from your friends and family. You heard him, you shouldn’t have been shocked that Trevor showed up, you had sent him the details to his ticket the night before, but seeing him and hearing him in person for the first time since the game he played against Michigan in November was enough to have you crying. You ran into his arms, he ran into yours. He whispered apologies in your ears, but they went in one and out the other. This was your swan song, the last time you would be his girlfriend, the last time he would be your boyfriend, the last time you would be in each other’s arms, it was bitter sweet.

“Cause if you’re on fire, you’re on fire. Just keep burning, ‘til rain. Baby keep me ablaze. Honey if you’re on fire, you’re on fire. Just keep burning, keep me alive. Spare your blade.”

You stayed together, Trevor started acting like the boyfriend you once knew and loved, still loved. But you knew. You knew it was all an act, in august he was gonna move to California to get settled in before preseason and you were moving to Connecticut. You committed to Yale, not UCLA like Trevor had wanted. When you told him you could tell he was upset, he was hoping you would take back what you said to him the night of your prom, he was hoping that you were too drunk to remember you said it and didn’t mean it. Just like you had hoped all those times when he was the one calling you blackedout.

Anyone around you could tell that your relationship was on its last life, they were shocked you even made it through the school year. You didn’t, but they didn’t need to know that.

It felt like your relationship was the only thing keeping you alive, it was all that kept your flame burning, but all flames die out eventually.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait. If hello just means goodbye then, honey, better walk away. Just do it. Just do it’ don’t wait. If hello just means goodbye then, baby, better walk away.”

Today was your last night with Trevor, you sat by the fire with him in silence until the final flame went out.

“We need to break up.” You stated, the second the two of you were surrounded by the darkness of the night.

“I know.” Trevor stated, looking at you, but he couldn’t see you. You couldn’t see him, you two were in pitch black darkness. The fire was the only thing providing light, but it was now dead. A cruel metaphor for your now dead relationship.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

***

Note: Hope y’all enjoyed, this gets pretty fucking sad. I’m toning it down a bit though just for the sake of my mental health (idk if I can handle reliving this in full honestly…again fuck you chris) Leave feedback, this one might not be everyone’s favorite but I need to write about my feelings because I’m still torn up about this (once again…fuck you chris) (chris is my exes name if you haven’t put that together yet) (I’m gonna stop spilling my guts to strangers on the internet) (goodbye.) This took two hours to write so it might not be my best work, but I proofread (no editing needed kinda worried about that lol) so I hope this at least a little bit decent. Love y’all babes <3

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader #nhl imagine #anaheim ducks #ahonice writes

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petit-papillion · 9 months

Text

This was during the 24 Hours of Le Mans (you can hear the cars running in the background in the video).

@petitprince16 has kindly offered to translate this little anecdote he tells about Charles here, since my French is not quite up to snuff anymore. Merci beaucoup, Mel! 💕

#charles leclerc #24 hours of le mans #idreau #again same guy of running naked around the track for charles spa pole #and who took home Charles's P3 champagne bottle #charles being a king and a goat apparently #i think he’s telling the story of the photo from my previous post #but i could be wrong #help me @petitprince16 !#summer break draft clear out

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expecto-kedavra · 3 months

Text

HL Girls react to smelling M!MC in their Amortentia

Professor Sharp’s potion lesson has the class brewing the love potion, Amortentia, and writing their thoughts.

Including Poppy, Natty, Imelda, Samantha, and Anne.

Poppy Sweeting

She recognizes the smell immediately, however the fact that it’s in her potion, a bit more surprising. She’d know the earthy tones, the sandalwood, the soft smell of clean forest breeze anywhere. It was….him. But why? She didn’t have romantic feelings for him. All the nights they spent huddled together in a hollow log, pressed against each other to avoid poachers, that was just platonic. The way she felt when he’d smile at her after clearing a poacher camp, and brush her hair out of her face and wipe the smudged dirt and grime off of her forehead and cheeks. The way he would always hold her close when she’d get worked up about all the creatures she couldn’t save. The way she would always get sad when he’d leave….oh. Oh shit.

Natsai Onai

She smiles to herself, and breathes in the deep, comforting scent. She’d been considering the way she feels about him for a while, yet hadn’t known if it was real yet. This only confirms what her heart has told her. She writes down what she smells. A clean, aromatic smell, like cinnamon and vanilla. The way he would always smell. The smell she breathed in when she was sitting in the hospital wing after taking down Harlow, enveloped in a deep hug.

“What do you smell Natty?”

She’s snapped out of her trance by her table mate, Cressida Blume. She smiles.

“I smell home.”

Imelda Reyes

Nope. Nope nope. She brewed it wrong. She must have. She must have brewed the potion that makes you smell what you despise. No way. Her face grows hot as she internally searches for why the hell this damn cauldron smells like that. Why does it smell like….like mint…like freshly washed clothes, like lemon zest, a pie cooling on a windowsill on a hot day. Why does it smell like him??? She thinks hard, realizing how many times she’d sit behind him in History of Magic, breathing in the comforting scent. The times she could just focus on him without his smart ass knowing. Without HER smart ass knowing. How far buried in her subconscious was this?

“Well, what do you smell?”

Violet McDowell breaks her concentration, and the forehead vein retreats back into her face.

“Uh, oh, um, broom polish, and uh, the smell of the grass in the quidditch pitch.” She lied.

Violet raises an eyebrow. “Why are you sweating?”

Samantha Dale

She frowns at her cauldron. She was expecting the smell of fresh soil, maybe the smells that blow through on a hot summers day as she works in the garden. Not….this. What is this? It smelled of fresh parchment, and lavender. Slight tones of…what broom polish? She doesn’t even fly! She barely cares about flying and doesn’t even know anyone who does. Except…oh. Except for him. He flies. He’s really good at it. He looks really good when does it. He also always offers her spare parchment when she forgets it in charms class. And he always…smells like..lavender. She looks up and sees him across the room, working on his own potion while chatting and laughing with Sebastian Sallow. She feels her face grow red and a slight giggle come from her throat. She’ll explore this later. She needs to write down what to say to him, and how to say it. It’ll take a while. At least 21 rough drafts.

Anne Sallow

Potions has been hard. Since MC cured her, catching up in class has been a lot. But she’s always despised potions. She sits at her cauldron, pondering what it is she’s smelling. She smells green tea, honey, and a tiny bit of a more earthy undertone, like soil. Then like eucalyptus? She recognized the smell, but why is it here? It’s the room of requirement to be sure. But why? It doesn’t smell bad but it definitely isn’t attracting her. He showed her the room once she returned to school, saying it helped him get caught up. He showed her around, made her a cup of tea, and told her to brew as many potions and grow as many plants as she wants. Then he hugged her. He hugged her and she breathed in the smell of his robes. He smelled like…eucalyptus. She frowns. She’d always dismissed the thoughts of him as simply gratitude for removing her of the pain. Maybe it was more? She looked up, and found his table. He was just finishing his potion. She found herself admiring him, the contour of his jaw, his thick hair, muscular broad shoulders. She felt her face heating up, her mouth forming a hard line. As she watched him work, it melted into a smile, ignoring Sebastian as he poked her. “Why are you staring at him?” She shoved him off, and began to write down her thoughts on her parchment.

Him

He smelled roast chicken.

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bonefall · 9 months

Note

I’d there any info on one eye EATING Tom??? That’s so wild but I hope one eye didn’t get heartburn from eating that dead beat

I'm still working out some key details of Thunderstar's Justice, especially since I'm at One Eye's part in my reread and things are really starting to come together.

But here's the current draft of One Eye and Skystar's tale so far, isolated from the "Grander Story" of Thunderstar's Justice;

To set some exposition a bit; Thunderstar's Justice is the SE following BB!DOTC. It begins after the First Battle. In BB, the main arc happens entirely before that point.

It opens on the burial. The sun rises on a hot summer day, the living cats commanded to bury the bodies to receive their lives.

But the day is hot and the clearing reeks. The bodies of their friends are decaying and there's too many to put to rest in one day.

(Sunlit Frost is a survivor of this fight, but he was badly bitten on the paw and yet he refuses to sit this out, digging and burying with a fresh wound. He develops an infection that permanently disables his hand. But that's off in the reeds)

The point here being that the summer stench of hot decay summons One Eye. A god of war, among other things.

And of course he takes a shine to Skystar right away. The Clans are weakened from losing so many cats, and ambitious Skystar is eager to recover his strength quickly.

So of course he is now getting more... "openminded" about accepting people into his Clan. There is a language barrier he's now considering bridging; where all his cats were previously Tribemew speakers, he decides that perhaps mean-looking Townmew and Parkmew speakers "deserve a chance"

Tom is one of them, but if there end up being any traitors, murderers, or other exiled cats from the other Clans, they are going to end up here.

NEW addition compared to previous drafts.... One Eye was quite loyal, at first. Useful, observant, helping Skystar in his plans to grow. But Skystar started noticing that One Eye was... too good at running things.

In fact he was quite charming. Always seemed to know what to do. Like he'd been a leader before.

This is still Thunderstar's story, with occasional cuts to Skystar. He isn't aware that SkyClan isn't currently planning conquest, but absolutely doesn't trust Skystar.

He's EXPANDING. He's accepted the person who got Turtle Heart killed into his Clan, plus other rogues, and Thunderstar stopped him before he was able to kill mama Bright Storm during the First Battle. No, he doesn't believe for a second that Skystar isn't planning something with those 8 extra lives he's got now.

He only hopes his own 8 will be enough as a deterrant.

It doesn't take long though. SkyClan is back on its shit and unstoppable

There's a few battles that are curbstomps, displaying how much power One Eye is lending to SkyClan. So Thunderstar has a taste of what he could have if One Eye was on his side.

At some point, Thunder remarks that the spirits were trying to give Sky a chance to change his ways, and yet he's only ever gotten worse and worse. One day it'll catch up to him!

Skystar shrugs this off. Of course. "I'm Just Trying to make my clan strong"

BUT, at one point... Tom breaks the code and kills someone. There are two rules and he just broke half of them.

And Skystar takes him aside to punish him... but One Eye comes along. In spite of Skystar trying to tell him off, because HE is supposed to be leader.

"I'll decide how to punish my own cats"

"But will you do so properly? Allow me, I've been waiting a long time for this."

"I said get out! This is MY cat and I decide what happens!"

But when Tom tries to join in on Skystar's scolding, "Yeah winky! Know your place!" One Eye bites his paw clean off.

Sky is too shocked to do anything. Tom is screaming

Is One Eye bigger, suddenly??

He has prepared the obituary ahead of time, licking his lips; "The pain you cause seeps into your meat like a flavor. You have sins deeper than your bones, soaked into your very marrow, and I will savor each bite."

Heavy_TF2_Nom.mp3

Clear Sky realizes something in this moment...

He needs One Eye, but One Eye does not need him. He is a leader. He is a monster. He is a God.

He is everything Skystar is, but stronger. Unstoppable.

And what will happen when One Eye ceases to want him around? And what did he mean-- 'waiting for this?' Sins? Flavor seeping into the meat-- like a marinade??

A lightbulb goes off in Skystar's head; "Tom was lunch and I'm going to be dinner. Good god I'm being seasoned!"

So, Tom's death is an important turning point. It's where Skystar's ambition is ground to a halt because of self-preservation. He fears death, and he fears a death as gruesome as what happened to Tom.

He realizes that what he's unleashed on the forest isn't mortal, and he has no control over the situation. He's fucked up BIG time... so badly that he needs the other Clans if any of them are going to hope to survive.

SO that is the context around Eat Tom. I'm still working on specifics here though, while this is technically a reworking of everything post-First Battle up to Thunderstar's Echo, this is practically a new story lmao.

I also left out the main story from this summary which is mostly Thunderstar as he considers what leadership means, how his anger influences his decisions but how far he's come from the main series, encouraging Bright Storm to retire and become the first elder, while connecting with Frost who feels like he's losing meaning in his life; now that both an arm and his dominant hand prevent him from building.

#Tw violence #Tw animal death #Should I give this a gore tag?#Thunderstar's Justice #Better bones au #Tw cannibalism

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dylan-duke · 21 days

Text

Ryleigh Hughes x Rutger McGroarty

the he fell first she fell harder AU

Ryleigh Hughes - the littlest hughes

ryleigh eleanor

born august 17th, 2004

olympic gold medalist figure skater

sophomore at umich

studying molecular, cellular, and developmental biology

has adhd and dyslexia make school tremendously difficult

Rutger McGroarty

rutger james

born march 30th, 2004

umich mens hockey player and winnipeg jets draft pick

Time Line

somehow don’t cross paths before their freshman year

fall ‘22 - meet at yost

ryleigh goes for a late night skate, needing to clear her mind, and rutger’s there to blow off steam

rutger has no idea who she is, but starts to notice that shes at games and that sometimes she’ll be on the ice with luke

assumes shes lukes girlfriend

late first semester freshman year ‘22

ryleigh opens up to rutger and he confides in her about things, and when he starts to fall for her he has to ask if shes dating luke so that he doesn't get killed and well turns out he'll get killed anyway cause luke is her brother.

late second semester freshman year ‘23

start dating

rutgers there for her when luke leaves and the emotions she feels having her brother basically ripped from her

summer ‘23

idiot brothers forget her birthday

rutger comes and saves the day

when the brothers find out she has a boyfriend

beginning first semester sophomore year ‘23

bros find out at a tailgate

jack is pissed

luke is also pissed

quinn figured it out and he likes rutger so hes passive

umich winter break ‘23

starts feeling sick

fatigue

nausea

chest pain

trouble breathing

hospitalized christmas eve eve and spends the holidays in the hospital

a week later she gets a tumor removed from her chest

rutger is at wjc and has no idea

when he comes home hes devastated to find out that ryleighs been hospitalized and what hes missed

beginning second semester sophomore year ‘24

gets leg surgery for a tumor in her leg

told shes in the clear and with some light chemo she should be in remission

present day - april ‘24

goes to st.louis for the regionals

not feeling great but goes and surprises rutger

finally after a long hard day rutger and ellen manage to get ryleigh to the hospital

where she finds out her cancer is back and bad

#ryleigh hughes #jack hughes #quinn hughes #rutger mcgroarty x ryleigh hughes #rutger x ryleigh #rutger mcgroarty #rutger mcgroarty x hughes sister #luke hughes

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nicohischierz · 1 month

Text

betty: brandt clarke

tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hischif you want to join the taglist let me know!!

when starting the school year, brandt assumed he would see you sitting with an empty spot beside you for him.

but he was wrong.

the spot you usually accompanied was empty and he assumed you were off sick today. and for the rest of the week, he just assumed you were sick seeing as he never saw you anywhere. but then again, how do you recognise someone who is actively avoiding you.

it wasn't until ethan cardwell mentioned that you were in his homeroom, that things made sense to brandt.

the young boy went home and began writing a letter to his best friend.

betty, I won't make assumptions about why you switched your homeroom, but I think it's 'cause of me

it was the end of summer break and one of the guys in your year held a party. one that you attended with brandt and some of your friends. the two of you were having a good time dancing around.

brandt didn't know what happened because one second he was having the time of his life and the next you were cussing him out with tears streaming down your face.

he couldn't remember who had their arm wrapped around your shoulder, but he remembered her coming over to him. her scent filled his nose and he immediately felt nauseous thinking of you

betty, one time I was riding on my skateboard when I passed your house it's like I couldn't breathe

it had been three months since you started avoiding brandt. he'd get weekly updates from his teammates who were still in contact with you.

one day, things got a bit too much. brandt had been worried about hockey, his draft year coming up and you.

he took out his skateboard, one he hadn’t used in a long time, and rode until his mind was clear.

well until he came across a house he hadn’t been to in a while.

his breath was caught in his throat as he watched you in your window. he noticed someone else come up behind you and kiss your cheek.

you heard the rumors from inez, you can't believe a word she says most times, but this time, it was true

the night of the party when you were on your way to the bathroom, one of your classmates stopped you. inez was one who knew everything so when she wanted to speak to you, you got worried.

“betty, i need to tell you that i saw brandt and audrey over the summer together. at first i thought it was a coincidence but then i saw your story in europe and when i looked up i caught brandt and audrey kissing!” she exclaimed.

tears began to fill your eyes and you brushed past inez towards brandt. you saw aurora lingering nearby and you saw red. you pushed brandt and cussed him out.

ryan grabbed your shoulder and pulled you away from brandt and drove you home that night. he stayed with you as you cried about your lost love.

The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you

brandt remembered the promise he made to you before you left for europe.

you were to come back with your mind made up on whether you were willing to try be a couple.

he never meant to end up in aurora’s bed.

he never wanted to hurt you.

But if I just showed up at your party, would you have me? would you want me? would you tell me to go straight to hell? or lead me to the garden? in the garden, would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing? i'm only 17, I don't know anything but I know I miss you

it was now your birthday.

the boys on his team had spoken about being invited and ethan handed brandy his invite too.

ethan explained that whilst the two of you weren’t talking, your family missed brandt and this was the only setting you felt comfortable seeing him.

so brandt took it with a stride.

he’d always bought your birthday present and he had it wrapped and hidden in his room until your birthday.

brandt knew he messed up with aurora and he was going to do everything in his power to get you back

The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you

but if I just showed up at your party would you have me? would you want me? would you tell me to go straight to hell? or lead me to the garden? in the garden, would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing?

brandt expected nothing less than your garden party for your birthday.

the sun dress you wore highlighting every part of you that he loved. it also happened to be the dress he picked out.

brandt waited until the party was in full swing before approaching you.

“hey, can we talk?” he asked softly.

you looked around and nodded, leading him up to your bedroom.

“this summer, i was walking home just thinking of you when she pulled up like a figment of my worst intentions. she said "brandt, get in, let's drive" and suddenly those days turned into nights i slept next to her, but i dreamt of you all summer long,” he rambled.

“you wanted to be with me, so why did you end up in her bed?” you asked.

brandt shrugged. “when she was driving me home, she let me talk … about you. she said she’d help take my mind off of you and i thought it would ease my pain but it didn’t”.

you moved your hand close to his as you sat on your bed. he was quick to intertwine your fingers and place a hand on your cheek.

“the only thing I wanna do is make it up to you,” he whispered.

brandt didn’t have time to think as you placed your lips on his. the kiss was better than anything he had dreamed of.

#brandt clarke imagine #brandt clarke fic #la kings imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nicohischierz writes

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mxargo · 10 months

Text

cold - spencer reid

summary: spencer is ready to give love another chance, but after maeve he might not be able to.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

word count: idk

warnings: mentions of past death.

bold italics are you singing to spencer.

based on the song: cold by novo amor.

p.s, i made this so long ago, just clearing out my drafts.

I miss her. i still think about the different futures we could of had, and I didn't even get to touch her.

for some reason, maeve was all I could think about when I'd see y/n.

maybe cause I was falling again.

y/n was perfect. she really was. her laugh, her smile, the way she'd pick out flowers or hand out soft pastries when someone was upset. her warmth and her happiness was contagious.

I couldn't get her out of my mind since I had met her. but when I thought of y/n, I thought of maeve. I felt so guilty and I didn't even know why. it's been four years. I should have gotten over this by now.

maeves gone. I thought I'd accepted that a long time ago. maybe I didn't and just pushed those feelings down, derek always mentioned I did that way too often, but I didn't mind it then.

y/n is here. she's alive, and she's always been there for me. which was only a couple of years but it always counted. I confined to her in so much. more so than the rest of the team, I trust her with my life.

when I got sent to prison she sat on the other side of the glass, looking at me with those beautiful eyes I fell in love with. I didn't want to fall in love again, but I did.

it's not like y/n and I are together, we're not. but, she deserves better. better than someone whose going to think of another girl whose already a ghost. I want to make myself a good enough person for y/n. she deserves that.

more than anyone.

y/n can sing. she sings to me when I'm sad. she sings to me when I practically break into her apartment and fall into her arms. she knows right away how to make me feel better. the same thing over and over again and I love it.

she takes her hand and and plays with my hair while the other rubs my shoulder. it's perfect, like a routine. I'm sad, and I need y/n. she's always here for me, even when I've managed to piss her off sometimes.

but here I am again, in y/n arms as she plays with my hair and rubs little hearts on my skin. her hands are so soft and soothing, which is probably why I end up falling asleep, either to that or her singing. maybe both.

"Heal your frays, just to know you'll wear them thin again. Peel off the name, that i gave and I knew you were within. Forget our nave, the summer spent within"

listening to her washes away everything.

"For all that its worth now you were worth it in the end. For all off your worth I would lapse and fall again. For all that its worth I would have loved you until the end"

I wish I could give her the everything she deserves.

"But i'm cold in your heart and you're branded into mine"

I want to be better. I want to be hers.

Bruise the hope, our endeavour would ever see the light"

I loved maeve. I did, but she's gone now.

"Choose your own, i'll face the world knowing that you've grown"

I love y/n, with everything in me.

"And i'll leave your curls and move past alone"

I want a future with someone, I always have. a wife, kids, a family. I want that.

"For all that its worth now you were worth it in the end. For all off your worth I would lapse and fall again"

I want to protect y/n, I can't lose her too.

"For all that its worth I would have loved you until the end. But i'm cold in your heart and you're branded into mine"

all I can do is look up at her and smile, curling back up against her letting the darkness take over.

she's everything now. hopefully forever.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader

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generalllimaginesss · 9 months

Text

The End of Things As We Know It

Loosely based off the song “Whatever Fits Together” by Skullcrusher (beautifully written song, 10/10 recommend go listening to it). Planning on doing a few parts to this, but who knows. Not really in the mood for a happy ending, so warning? Probably not going to be proofread very well. Also, my apology is at the end of this😬

A cool draft flowed through the open patio area in the backyard of the Hughes’ lake house. The clear skies and birds chirping should have a been a picture perfect way to end the summer. It should, right? It should be nothing less than a dream to have a boyfriend that was the 7th overall NHL pick when he was only 19 years old. The reassurance of a future where everything would be taken care of by the person that went from being an awkward, determined child to a confident, diligent man is what all the girls swoon over, yeah?

Life isn’t a fairytale. Happily ever afters are nearly an impossible expectation that every little girl grows up dreaming about, but never achieves. People fuck up, people hurt people, there’s no exception to that. It’s life. That’s a lesson that, unfortunately, everybody learns one day.

That didn’t make the weight on her chest lighten any less, however. A relationship that’s been through hell and back in the span of 6 years should be able to withstand everything, especially when it was nobody’s fault of the circumstances that were basically forced in the lap of the lovers.

That’s why Y/N felt gutted, absolutely empty, sitting next to her lover on what should be a picture perfect day. Tears threatened to spill at any second when she decides to open her mouth.

Quinn knew something was off with Y/N. She wasn’t her no-filtered, free-spirited, chirpy self that Quinn had known and loved for so many years. She wasn’t talking about future plans for the upcoming hockey and school seasons, she wasn’t making plans with his brothers for the next break when they all get together, no. She seemed to take up very little space around her, her personality shrinking day after day as the summer came to a close. He knew something was coming, he just didn’t know how bad it was going to be. It shouldn’t be that bad, he thought. He had loved her endlessly and unconditionally since the day he was forced to pick her in a dodgeball game at a pep rally in high school. She may not have been his first choice in that game, but he couldn’t dream of any different choice of a partner to go through life with.

Y/N cleared her throat and quickly swiped at the tears brimming the corner of her eyes as she spoke to Quinn, “I love you, you know. So fucking much, Quinn.” Quinn got the feeling that he should keep his mouth shut and just listen, so he gave a worried nod and watched his girl.

“You have supported me through so many things in 6 years. You’ve been there for me when not a single soul has, Quinn Hughes,” Her tears were free flowing, as it would be a losing battle if she tried to stop or conceal them.

“That’s my job, babe. I would never dream of doing anything differently,” Quinn turned himself to face her, his calloused hands enveloping her manicured ones.

“I got the job offer,” She croaked out. She was about to go into her last semester of grad school, just as a position at her dream job opened up. She didn’t think she would get the job, especially with her not even graduating yet, but things worked out so that she can work as an intern and do her last semester online, and the company would be paying for it. It was amazing in every aspect, except that it would be taking her all the way to Orlando, Florida. There would be 3,222 miles between the 2 during hockey season, and 1,159 miles between them during holidays and breaks.

“Y/N, that’s awesome! Why are you upset? You worked so fucking hard for this!” Quinn chortled nervously as he gave her hand a squeeze. He was beyond confused on how this wasn’t news that they should be celebrating, but he watched her intently.

Y/N didn’t have to say anything. That’s the thing about fully emerging yourself into a relationship with somebody special, sometimes it’s easier to let them feel what your thinking versus finding words that just don’t quite feel real or work the way you need them to.

She watched as Quinn’s puzzled look turned into a slight shake of his head, left and right, denial creeping up on the man like a thief in the night.

“Y/N…we’ve been together for 6 fucking years,” Quinn’s voice cracked, his throat tightening with every breath. He could feel his heart fracturing each second that the two were sitting there. Each tear that left a stain on her cheeks were words that she couldn’t quite say.

“We’ve made it work for this long. We can FaceTime and I can fly down there some, I mean we love Disney,” Quinn had to chuckle in between a few tears that began to fall. He didn’t know what else to do. There’s not exactly a manual on how to deal with your heart fucking shattering, but if there was he’d read it.

“Quinn, you don’t understand. We’re not talking about being able to just easily go back and forth between Michigan and Florida. Orlando is where my life is about to begin. It’s going to be my new home,” She began to explain to him, but he stood up and ran his fingers through his slightly curled mess of hair.

“So what now?” Quinn exhaled and turned around to face her, his fingers intertwined behind his head.

“I’ll be here for a few more days to pack my stuff. My family is driving me and my stuff down there and helping me get set up,” Y/N explained as she searched Quinn’s face, wanting to pick up any slight emotion that flashed in his eyes.

“Was I going to be a part of that?” Surely she would invite him to help her move. She couldn’t just cut ties that easily, could she? They loved each other.

“Quinn it’s painful just having to do this. I don’t think I could function knowing that we’re over when you leave Orlando. I can’t…” She trailed off.

Quinn knew she was right, she had a valid reason to keep their relationship confined to the memories in which they had lived and the state lines of Michigan. Dragging this out probably would hurt, but damn he didn’t know how it could be any worse than this right now. She was there beside him, her perfect, loving self and his heart was still fucking shattered. The thought of her leaving him made him nauseous.

“I think it’s best you go now,” he had tears steadily rolling down his face, his breath hitched as he turned back around to face the opposite direction of the girl that his heart longed for. Every ounce of his strength trying to hold back the sob that was stuck somewhere between his throat and chest.

“What about Jack and Lu-”

“Please, Y/N, just go,” he pleaded. He couldn’t stand it. How is he just supposed to let her slip through his fingers like this? Helpless, like watching a car wreck happening in slow motion except it felt like he was the wreck. The shards of glass sliced quick and precise straight through his heart leaving a puddle of mush in its place. The life sucked right out of him.

He heard the chair slightly grind against the concrete, signaling that she was getting up, and he listened as close as his ears would allow him to her footsteps getting further and further away until the ghost of the sound lingered. The sound of the car door closing triggered more tears, but the gravel being disturbed as she drove away sent him into a rage like no other.

Quinn’s always been a pretty level-headed person, so the emotions that possessed him startled him, but he let it take over. He picked up his phone off the table and threw it as hard as he could across the yard. A spare hockey stick stood no chance against the tree that he beat with it, pieces of the stick flying around mixed with the bark. He had to be dreaming. This couldn’t be real. There’s no way this was actually happening after the best summer the two have had so far. He had plans to marry her. Why didn’t he just do it sooner? She would still be with him, in a cozy house near Vancouver, maybe a kid, and their whole future ahead of them. As he let himself feel the vomit of emotions swirling inside of him, he slid down the tree that suffered his wrath, allowing the sobs to take over.

Y/N may have been better at controlling her anger concerning the situation, but she struggled to drive home as the tears were thick and steady. Her contacts were making her vision blurry as she pulled into the driveway of her parents house. The only car in the driveway was her brother’s, and as if on cue he walked out of the front door. She had mentioned to him that Quinn would probably not be in the picture in Orlando, but he honestly didn’t believe her. So when he saw the state she was in he jogged over to the car and opened the driver door, switching the car off and steadying his baby sister as she stood up from her seat. Concern plagued his face, resulting in Y/N crying harder.

The two made it inside and fell onto the couch, the white linen providing slight comfort, the feeling of home.

“I did it,” She let the words roll off her tongue incredulously.

“You broke up with Quinn?” Her brother’s words caused her to wince. The phrase seemed foreign, distasteful, like they shouldn’t even be spoken.

He engulfed her in his arms, allowing her to let every emotion that was falling from her eyes dampen his shirt.

“Y/N we love you so much. We truly, truly do. Whatever you need and we’re there for you,” he tightened his hug around her and they sat there for as long as she needed.

——

The hardest lesson that Y/N learned in the couple of months that she had been in Orlando was that time didn’t stop for pain. She didn’t get a week to sit in bed and eat chocolate and drown herself in a bottle of Crown. She couldn’t waste her days on listening to depressing love songs as she went through pictures of her and Quinn throughout the years a million times. Time kept ticking and it held no remorse for her broken heart.

She felt numb during the days it took to uproot her life from Michigan and replant it in Orlando. She found herself on autopilot, her brain functioning to only keep her new job and keep her alive. She learned that she really did love her job. The people were welcoming, the clients she helped her mentors with reminded her why she chose this career field. She would have good days, ones where the sky was crystal clear and birds were singing to her, and then all of a sudden she would be roped back into the guilt that accompanied her happiness.

A sports article with Quinn’s name would catch her attention every now and then, constricting her throat the longer she would read it. He was having an outstanding season, and all she wanted to do was to tell him how proud she was. She wanted to kiss him one more time after a win, even if he was a sweaty mess. She wanted to have one more margarita Monday with him, catching him up with all the gossip in her sorority.

She didn’t just lose the love of her life, no. She lost the best friend that she ever, and would ever have. Nobody else that walked the earth would understand her like her Quinn. Nobody knew that when she was nervous she would chew on the inside of her cheek until it started to bleed, so Quinn had to stop her from letting it get that far. Only Quinn knew that she had to set an alarm at exactly midnight to flip her pillow to the cool side because she would rather dive in ice water than wake up in a pool of sweat. Nobody else knew that she ordered chicken strips with exactly one and a half Polynesian sauces from Chick-fil-A with a frosted lemonade. He always ate the other half of the sauce with his nuggets. He knew that her favorite shows were any of the Real Housewives series, but that she was settling with Vanderpump Rules while Real Housewives of Beverly Hills was getting ready to film again.

Nobody else knew these things. Nobody had taken the time to understand her. She wasn’t rude, she had a dry sense of humor. She didn’t cry when Jack died in Titanic, but she had to call in to work when Trevor forced her to watch Where the Red Fern Grows because she was so upset. Her personality was so interwoven with Quinn’s that she felt like she was picking each individual strand of velcro apart from the two of them in her two months in Orlando.

As she sat at her desk in her office trying to get some school work done, a knock interrupted her reminiscence of her past.

“Girl, you look so depressed. It should be a sin for a hot girl like you to be wallowing around in self pity when you literally live like 10 minutes from the happiest place on earth,” Collins took a swig of her iced coffee.

Collins was equipped with warm ivory skin, sandy brown hair, and legs that seemed to go on for days. If a model scout ever did lay eyes on the girl, she would have a contract on the spot. She was also the closest thing that Y/N had to a friend in Orlando.

The two seemed to click right away. Collins invited herself to Y/N’s apartment after her first day at the office to help her finish unpacking, one drink led to another and before the night was over Y/N was spilling her whole life story, along with a drink or two, to her newfound friend. After that the two hung out at least a few times a week and texted each other about minuscule things throughout the day.

Y/N flashed a pleading look at the girl, as if asking if she can have a rot day, but her friend sent a quick text on her phone and sat on Y/N’s desk.

“You should be getting off around 2:00 today. Go home, change into clothes for disney, and I’ll pick you up at 3:00,” Collins instructed, not giving Y/N a chance to decline.

The time flew by, and before Y/N knew it she was putting her hair in a claw clip and throwing on a t shirt, biker shorts, and her tennis shoes. She heard a car pull up outside and tried to race down the stairs so Collins wouldn’t have to get out, but as soon as she rounded the corner on the first floor she collided with a solid object.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” She was mortified as she looked up to a guy with messy brown hair and a slightly scraggly beard. She had no idea if he knew who she was, but if anybody with a little bit of hockey knowledge saw him they would know that it couldn’t be mistaken for anybody other than Matthew Tkachuk.

Y/N scrambled past him and flung herself into Collins’ car, laughter littering the air as Y/N’s cheeks were turning red. She noticed there was an extra guy in the passenger seat, probably her friends boyfriend, and wanted to crawl in a deep, dark place and never return.

Collins rolled the window down and absolutely mortified her new friend.

“Matthew, let’s go!” She yelled, the messy-haired man popping his head back around the corner with confusion etched in his face. He did as he was told, however, and struggled to slide back into the backseat.

Once he realized that the culprit that rammed into him was seated beside him, he tried his best to hold back his snorts from laughing.

“Matthew, that’s Y/N. Y/N, this is my boyfriend Jackson. Now that we’ve gotten THAT out of the way, let’s go have some fun, yeah?” Collins turned her radio up, the speakers almost shaking from Zach Bryan’s song Revival seeping out of them. The windows were down, and for the first time in 2 months, Y/N finally let herself feel happy.

She didn’t notice, but Matthew couldn’t stop himself from glancing at her. The strands of hair that shaped her face lapped against it as the warm, fall wind caught them. She was glowing and he couldn’t deny it. The embarrassment of their first meeting quickly wore off and the excitement of what Collins had dragged him into this time set in. He couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but something told him that right here, in this very second in the Florida wind, that this was the end of things as he knew it.

++++++++

Y’all, I’m so sorry for doing this, but I’m having a shitty time right now in life and I tried very hard to write something happy, maybe to make me feel better? But I quickly realized that I do much better work when I use my real emotions and ideas. When I tell you it felt like I was literally pouring myself onto this little app, it was actually so therapeutic. I’m actually going to try to proof read this well because I really like it. I promise I will come back to the Zegras imagines, but this aligns more with my emotions at the moment. Hope you understand! As always, thank you so much for reading!

#jack hughes #nhl imagine #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #jack hughes imagines #nhl fic #quinn hughes #matthew tkachuk #brady tkachuk #florida panthers #canucks hockey #nhl fanfiction #I’m sorry for my adhd #I’m anxious and depressed #I’m writing fan fiction tho

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