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iluvmattsbeard · 8 days

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Wet Dreamz (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smut and swearing

preview: matt and you were partners for a project. he unexpectedly started having sinful dreams about you, suddenly craving you ever since. one thing nobody knew; he was a virgin.

“y/n, you will be partnered with Matt.” the teacher says trying to grab your attention. “y/n? are you listening?” you snap out of your thoughts and look at him. “huh?” you ask. “you’re partnered with Matt for this project.” he replies with an unamused look. you look around before you look back at him. “who’s that?” you ask.

he lets out a sigh before speaking, “Matt raise your hand.” you look around again as you catch the eyes of a brown haired boy. you weren’t mad about it. he looked decent.

you get up and walk to where he was sitting. “next time y/n, i expect you to be paying attention. this project will effect your grade drastically if you do poorly.” you hear the teacher say looking at you. all you do is nod. you were barely passing the class.

Matt’s POV

i got paired with y/n. she didn’t even know who i was. i knew of her because she would get in trouble constantly due to her lack of focus. as she came to sit next to me, we clicked right away. we both dreaded school, but who doesn’t? as much as i didn’t like school, i still paid attention, unlike her, so i had to explain the whole point of the project to her.

we exchanged numbers after class so that we could talk about when we could meet up to work on it. we only had two weeks to complete it. i knew i had to stand on top of it because i know she won’t.

a few days pass, me and y/n still working on the project together, with us having to meet at lunch. i got to know a little bit more about her. she was pretty cool to talk to. we even started texting without talking about the project itself. so when this is done, it’d be cool to hang with her.

meeting during lunch really wasn’t a good idea. there was too much distractions. so i took the opportunity to invite her over to my place after school. she agreed and i ended up driving her with me once the final bell rang.

End of Matt’s POV

you and Matt were in his room as you sat on the floor. you were reading over some information from the website the teacher recommended and you were feeling overwhelmed. “all of this is hurting my head.” you say laying back on the floor. Matt lets out a small laugh as he responds, “me too. i don’t get how this will be beneficial in the future.” you shot up looking at him, “exactly! school is so bullshit to me. they don’t even teach real world shit.” you say sighing. “i agree. but i didn’t put up with almost 12 years of school just to fail.” he says. you groan, “right. it would be wasteful. i’m pretty sure you don’t have anything to worry about. my grades are literally on the edge of failing.” “well, i could help you.” he suggests. all you do is let out a laugh, “trust me, teaching me is hard.”

“i’ve been teaching you these past days. trust me i know.” Matt responds as you both let out a laugh. “it’s hot in here.” you say taking off your hoodie, pulling down your shirt as it lifted a bit. Matt looks at you as he catches a glimpse of your cleavage. he looks away quickly, clearing his throat. where has all of that been hiding? he wonders. “well let’s continue working on this.” he says trying to move past it. all you do is nod as you lay on your stomach continuously reading.

when you weren’t paying attention, Matt would stare at you slightly. he would stare at the way your tits were pressed against the floor, thinking how perfect they were.

after a few hours, Matt takes you home. “thank you for the ride.” you say smiling, slinging your backpack on one shoulder. “yeah of course” he replies. you open the door stepping out, but as you get up, your hoodie raises slightly revealing your thong peeking out above your jeans slightly. Matt catches a glimpse turning red. you shut the door and walk away. he sits there in his car for a bit as he gulps before driving away.

Matt arrives home tidying his room before going to bed. he picks up one of his notebooks as he sees a sticky note on it reading, ‘thank you for dealing with me as a partner - Y/N’.

he smiles at the note as he puts it down on his bed side table, getting into bed. as he lays there, he couldn’t help but think about what his eyes caught from you earlier. your cleavage and your thong. he couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Matt stop that.” he whispers to himself before shutting his eyes going to sleep.

Matt’s dream POV

you and Matt were sitting on your bed working on the project. Matt wasn’t paying attention to you as much and you were bothered by it. you took matters into your hands and you closed the book he was studying. you got on top of him, sitting on his lap as he gets caught off guard. you pull him into a passionate kiss and next thing you knew, you were under the covers tangled together naked.

End of Matt’s dream

Matt’s POV

i woke up sitting up quickly with my breathing uneven. what was that?! my heart was racing. did i just have a wet dream?!

i pulled up the covers to see a wet stain on top of the crotch of my sweats. what the fuck. this has never happened before. with y/n?! why? because of what i saw yesterday? i never even had sex before. how could i have easily dreamed of it? i gulp before getting up. i head to the bathroom to clean myself. i really can’t believe that just happened. now all i could do is replay it in my head. i groan at the thought.

after i got ready, i headed straight to school. on the drive there, i still couldn’t stop replaying everything that happened in my dream. even if i tried to distract myself, it wouldn’t go away. i needed it bad.

End of Matt’s POV

you and Matt were in class as you tried to tell him a story. all he was doing was nodding and staying quiet. “Matt? are you okay?” you question. he shakes his head before speaking, “yeah- yeah i’m good. sorry.” you give him a questionable look as you reply, “well you weren’t really paying attention as i spoke.” you laugh a bit. “oh i was.” he says with a nervous smile. “yeah okay.” you say turning your body straight, pretending to pay attention to the teacher.

Matt does the same as he groans quietly to himself. he didn’t know if he should tell you or not about what he imagined. he decided to shrug it off.

it was the end of the day again as you both end up at Matt’s house. you were standing up as you rehearsed your lines on what to say for the presentation. Matt just sat there looking lost. “Matt seriously what is wrong? i can’t do this without you, you know?” you say frustrated. “i’m sorry. i’ve just been having a hard time.” he responds scratching the back of his neck. “well we really need to focus on this. if you need to get something off your chest, do it now so we can continue.” you say. Matt hesitates before speaking, “okay well i sort of had an odd dream last night.” you look at him confused. “okay?” you reply. “it wasn’t a normal dream.” he continues.

“what? were you like having sex or something?” you ask jokingly with a laugh. but he just sits there staying silent with a blank face. “oh. oh! you did!” you exclaim. “who was it about?” asking with curiosity. “some random girl from class.” he says lying through his teeth. “so what’s the big deal?” you ask. “this your first time having a wet dream?” all he does is nod. you widen your eyes, “really? that’s new. i would’ve thought you were like every other guy constantly thinking about sex.” letting out a laugh. “why is it bothering you so much?”

“because, it’s weird. especially with this specific girl.” he responds. you raise an eyebrow before asking a question, “have you ever had sex before?” the question takes Matt by surprise as he responds quickly, “of course i have!” he lies. you let out a laugh. “okay! sorry! well then you shouldn’t be so weirded out. now come on. lets focus.” replying to him.

it still was eating him in the inside.

*time skip*

after the weeks flew by, you and Matt got an ‘A’ for your presentation. you decided to celebrate by treating Matt with fast food. you both sat on his bed eating. “thank you for being such a good partner.” you say with a smile taking a bite from your burger. “no, thank you.” he replies. you couldn’t help but notice he still was acting strange these past days. “Matt don’t tell me you’re still on about the sex dream.” you ask wiping your hands with a napkin. “you should just shoot your shot already since it’s eating you up. maybe she’ll feel the same.” he shakes his head, “i wouldn’t know how to approach her. plus, that’s weird. i had a sex dream about her and what? i just walk up to her and tell her that? that's creepy.” he replies. you laugh at his response. “well not quite but, i don’t like how you’re acting so off.” you say taking another bite.

Matt sighs as he shakes his head, “just forget it y/n. i’m fine.” you stop in your place as you shake your head. “okay that’s it.” placing the unfinished food on his side table. you wipe your mouth with a napkin as you look at him. it was silent for a bit until you spoke up, “do you want to kiss me?” you blurt out. Matt’s eyes widen. “what?” he asks.

Matt’s POV

i hesitated for a bit. “to help distract you.” she says with a small laugh. "uh- uh yeah sure." I say hesitantly. i mean i couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. i scoot closer to her. i’ve only ever kissed one other person and i don’t think it was good so maybe this will be different. i can hear my heart pounding out of my chest. i put my hand on her cheek as i lean in and kiss her softly. she scoots closer without breaking the kiss, putting her hands on my shoulders.

to her she might think this is just a distraction but, little did she know my dream was about her. we continue to kiss as she swings her leg around to straddle me. i put my hands on her waist as the kisses get heavier. i could feel myself get hard beneath her and i could tell she notices. i pull away from embarrassment, “i’m so sorry.” i say. all she does is smile and respond with, “it’s okay.” pulling me into another kiss. i could feel her start to grind against my clothed dick. i let out a small groan from the feeling. i pull away as i lay her down gently. “d-do you want to do this?” i say nervously but, i couldn’t expose the fact this would be my first. she nods as she kisses me again. she takes off my shirt as i do the same for her. i unbutton my jeans and pull them off leaving me in my boxers as she does the same with her pants leaving her in her under garments. i gulp looking at her body. come on Matt play it cool. we kiss again as she rubs my dick through my boxers. i really hope i’m big enough.

i reach into my drawer as i pull out a condom. i bought a box just in case i were to lose it. which i am now, so it was good preparation. i open rip off the deal as i look at her. “uh.. i haven’t done this in a while so.. i might not be as good.” i warn her lying. i’ve never done this at all. i had to prepare her just in case i cum quick. “it’ll be good” she reassures me. she takes the condom from my hand as i take off my boxers slowly. i see her eyes widen a bit as she slowly wraps the condom on my dick. i lay her back down, sliding her panties to the side, and align myself at her entrance. she gives me a smile as i look down at what i’m about to do. i push myself into her slowly as i watch her relax.

i hear her moan softly as i continue to push my full length into her. “shit.” i groan quietly. i watch her face as i start to thrust slowly. she shut her eyes as she bites her lip softly. i can’t believe this is happening. my dream finally coming true. i pick up the pace as i put both my hands on her sides. “yes just like that.” she moans out putting her hands on my chest. i kiss her as i continue to go deeper into her keeping my fast tempo.

“fuck Matt you feel so good.” she moans. every time she spoke i felt my dick twitch. her moans were heavenly. “you’re so perfect.” i whisper to her. i lay myself on her slightly as she scratches my back. her scratches were hard as i feel the slight sting.

all my worries disappear once i find out i’m actually doing a good job. she made me feel a bit more confident. as soon as i was about to cum i pull out because i wanted to keep pleasing her. i pull her by her thighs as i put my head in between her legs. i start licking at her folds softly as she lets out a breath. i then start sliding my tongue up and down, swirling my tongue on her clit. i felt her grip my hair lightly. “oh Matt.” she moans. “you taste so good.” i say continuing to eat her out. “Matt i’m going to cum.” she says as i start to suck on her clit. she throws her head back as she arches her back, shoving her pussy more into my face. “yes Matt just like that!” she screams out as she cums all over my mouth.

i get back up as i lick my lips, realigning myself as i thrust back into her sensitive core. she gasps as she grips onto my arms. i thrust at a fast pace before cumming inside her into the condom. “oh fuck.” i moan out.

we were both catching our breath as i pull out of her. i take off the condom and throw it in the trash. "you must be a pro or something. that was incredible.” she says sitting up putting her clothes on.

good to know. little did she know, i ain't ever did this before.

a/n: not my best work lol. likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! thank you :) - L 🤍

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets imagines #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #Spotify

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so-sures-blog · 3 months

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Icebound

icebound definition: surrounded, obstructed, or covered by ice.

In which Zane uses his element against the Overlord to save the city and his friends. Because it wasn’t about numbers, it was about family.

❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️

It is the end, and Zane knows it.

The Overlord is conquering Ninjago City, webs of gold stringing across buildings like Christmas lights and tying up his friends like flies. They struggle, but it is useless under the might of the Overlord.

Zane flips out of the way of a golden band reaching to ensnare him and lands on a roof. All of his friends are tied up, and only Zane is free. He knows what he has to do. He is the only one who can.

“Support me, friends. For one last time.”

He takes a running leap off the ledge, and Jay flips midair so his feet plant squarely on top of his. Then Cole, Lloyd, Kai, Sensei Garmadon, and Wu.

He soars, flying straight at the Overlord, and grabs onto his golden fangs.

Immediately, he feels its power, and its agony. Pain rips into every crevice of his body; his jolts rattle and shake and his wires spark under his skin.

“Let my friends go!” Zane shouts.

“Go where, Doomed Ninja?” The Overlord sneers. Its eyes, red and hateful, glare into him.

Zane writhes under the immense pain and power. His body cannot handle it, he knows, and he feels himself falling apart under it.

“The Golden Weapons are too powerful for you to behold. Your survival chance is low.”

But Zane isn’t trying to hold them. He’s trying to destroy them.

He thinks of his brothers. He thinks of PIXAL. He thinks of his father. He thinks of an old man with long white hair as pure as snow and ice blue eyes that visited him a long time ago, who had come and left as quickly as winter did and had breathed that power into him because he saw him worthy of it.

“This … isn’t about numbers … It's about family!”

The golden webs holding the Ninja fall and they escape. He can hear them screaming, telling him to let go, and he thanks them for that. Wu and Garmadon grab onto them and yank them back, away from the oncoming destruction.

His core — his heart — started reaching critical mass. Frost began creeping upon the Overlord’s fangs. Something blue and blinding in his heart freezes under his power, and Zane embraces it. It's his power. His choice.

“I am a Nindroid. And Ninja never quit. Go Ninja … go!”

He is the Master of Ice. He was built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. He stands for peace, freedom, and courage in the face of all who threaten Ninjago.

Frostbite burns his skin away; jolt and wires freeze under the cold; until he is left completely bare.

The last glimpse they get of Zane is him surrounded by a blizzard of his own making, bright and beautiful like a supernova. Burning blue and white with the terrible brilliance of his own determined choice.

Zane died; not as a machine, not as a human, not as a tool of anyone or anything — but as himself. Zane died to save the ones he loves.

And woke up as something completely different.

❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️

PIXAL climbs her way up the steep cliff side, careful to place her foot in secure crevices in case she slipped and fell from the icy mountain. Heavy snow blinded her vision as the blizzard whipped around her, but she kept her pace steady and sure.

It had been months since she had left Ninjago City and began her search. Months since Zane’s death and memorial. PIXAL knew, logically, that she should be back there, properly mourning him. But she could not.

He had never given up on her, not when she was under the Overlord’s control or when she was struggling with the newness of emotions.

And that meant she could never give up on him.

When she had first met Zane, she became more than a machine meant to function. He was vital to her, and she was a part of him.

She carried half his heart, and against all logical explanations, she knew he was still alive.

She did not tell the Ninja of her suspicions: the immediate aftermath of Zane’s loss had been devastating. She’d watched as the team fractured, splitting at the seams as they all fled their separate ways, too heartsore and dizzy with grief to do much otherwise. She did not tell Cyrus Borg where she was going either, for she knew if he begged her to stay, she would.

If she had told them she had seen a snowy wraith emerge from the destruction of the frozen, apocalyptic atmosphere on the rooftop, she would have been told she had imagined it due to her grief.

And while she was grieving, she was not imagining it. She is a Nindroid, and she did not have an imagination. PIXAL was built to observe, to analyze, to collect data and gather information. She built theories and hypothesized, not assumed.

So she followed the signs. She kept track of all weather anomalies that happened across Ninjago — sudden snowstorms, cold drops in temperatures that swept through small villages and towns. It led her all across the country until it ended here, with her climbing up the frozen, snow-peaked mountain.

Finally, PIXAL arrived at her destination.

The Ice Temple.

Slowly, she makes her way towards it. Her sensors indicate the temperature dropping the closer she gets. For a normal human, they would have already gotten frostbite without the proper equipment and numb with it, but PIXAL was made of metal. The cold did not bother her.

She peers into the glacial architecture, but does not enter. Or more like, she is unable to. It feels as if there is some sort of force of winter that is keeping her at bay.

“Zane?” Hope finds its way into the desperation of her voice. Freezing winds whip her hair out of its ponytail and against the purple circuits on her cheeks, but she barely notices. “Is that you?”

There’s nothing except for the howling wind, then her eyes catch movement. Slowly, almost like a ghost, a figure starts to come closer, making a shape against the blizzard.

If PIXAL had lungs, all the air would have rushed out of them.

A being made of pure winter floated in front of her. Formed of ice and frost and molded by the wind, it stood there and looked at her. Opaque ice carved the face that has been imprinted in her memory drives, the one she had traveled across the entire world to see again.

It was frozen, and beautiful, and Zane.

Inside her neural drive, alarms were blaring into her system, flashing behind her eyes. Warning: Severe weather alert. Temperature reaching sub-zero levels. Retreat into a warmer climate —

PIXAL shut off the notifications.

“Hello,” she says. Zane does not move. She dares a step closer. “Do you recognize me?”

He says nothing, so PIXAL continues on. It feels like their roles were reversed when they first met: she, the one struck speechless by the other’s beauty. Him, stoic to it all.

“I’m PIXAL, the Primary Interactive X-ternal Assistant Lifeform. I’m a … friend. I came searching for you to bring you home. There are things about you that you don’t understand. That you have yet to discover. I am here to help you remember.”

Zane is quiet, but she senses that he is listening. Something glowing in her chest aches.

“It is alright if you don’t remember me,” PIXAL says. She cannot cry, but is she would she could. She is still new to emotions, and many are overwhelming her: joy and grief and something fierce and pure deep in her heart. “I remember you. And we are still compatible.”

Zane tilts his head and drifts closer. The snow slows its fall, the wind stopping altogether. Snowflakes gently coat her hair. Now that he is closer, she can see the differences that make him unlike the old Zane: he doesn’t have the one dimple on the right side of his cheek, or the small beauty mark on his collarbone, or the tiny scar on his index finger from his shuriken.

But he is still Zane, even as an icy spirit.

She held out a hand. “Your brothers miss you very much. Will you come back with me, Zane?”

He is silent, staring at her. Unlike before, it is impossible to know what he is thinking. She gazes up at him, imploring. His eyes have no irises or pupils, so she is simply staring up at pinpricks of pure blue light.

Slowly, his hand reaches out of her.

BANG!

A loud sound echoes across the ice, and out of nowhere chains of Vengestone come flying out and capture him.

Fear slams into her. “Zane!” PIXAL cries.

Ice races out from his body and across the chains as Zane struggles, but no matter what, he can’t break them.

PIXAL whips around to face the assailant.

A man in his thirties, wrapped in a thick parka to prevent the cold and wearing a red mask. He has shoulder-length brown hair and is wearing a dyed red straw hat, and under it she can see he is hiding an eyepatch.

“What are you doing?” PIXAL shouts. Anger — an emotion she rarely feels — burns through her.

The man lowers his gun and pulls out another one before she can even blink.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Just following orders.”

Before she can question what that means, he fires. A net tangles her limbs together and brings her down against the cold snow. Before she can fight against it, electricity courses through her.

And then everything went black.

#ninjago #ninjago fic #ninjago au #ninjago seabound #reboot au #ninjago pixane #zane julien #pixal borg #ninjago ronin #ninjago overlord #kai smith #jay walker #cole brookstone #lloyd garmadon #ninjago wu #ninjago garmadon

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strawberryforks · 3 months

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blue walls, blue eyes, and the blue blanket // cole walter x reader

summary: you don’t have a good home life and end up unofficially moving in with the walter boys.

warnings: physical & verbal abuse, underage drinking, counsellors depicted in a negative light, swearing, canon divergence–jackie’s family never passes away, so while katherine and her mother are still good friends, they’ve not met/moved in with the walters.

word count: 5957

there’s a ding, and the principal is speaking over the pa. everyone stops what they’re doing so nothing is missed. after all, this doesn’t happen often.

the teacher freezes, dry erase marker still pressed firmly against the board, the end squishing and ink bleeding atop the letter he was writing and danny, who’s sitting beside you, gives you a look. you know its meaning, recognize the weight behind it, and know this routine. you stand up quickly. the backs of your knees slam into the hard plastic you had been sitting on and the chair goes skittering back, bumping into the pair of desks behind you.

you’re too tired to send that apologetic smile to anyone else. fortunately danny isn’t. making sure you aren’t alone, aren’t the only one being disruptive and making noise in an otherwise silent classroom, he braces a hand on the back of his chair, twisting around, to face your wide-eyed classmates. “sorry about that,” he whispers.

your movements are all harsh. they’re fast and full of annoyance, as you swipe your textbook, pencil kit, and water bottle off your desk and into your awaiting tote bag.

standing up, you make your way to the door. the teacher stares daggers at you the entire way. They go to grab your arm and you flinch away. “don’t touch me,” you grit, hands gripping around the doorknob so tightly it hurts. air is hitting your face, propelled towards you by the door you shoved open, when you hear your dismissal “please send y/n l/n to guidance,” spoken over the announcements. your teacher follows you out into the hallway, shouting instructions that you reluctantly follow, after you.

you count the tiles on your way. nearly running into the blue door, you end at fifty six.

ms jacobs, tara, as she’ll insist you call her, is a nice enough lady. she has curly brown hair, brown eyes, and perfectly painted on lipstick. she looks disarming, as a counsellor with the numbers of everyone that could ruin your life on speed dial, you suppose she has to. still, this isn’t new. she leads you further into the room and gestures to a chair “take a seat.”

when you don't, her smile becomes more strained. “please, y/n. this doesn’t need to be difficult, we just need to have a chat.”

you sigh, shoulders sagging as you plop down into the hundredth blue thing in this office. doors, trim, there’s a ridiculous amount of the colour and you don’t like it. blue, represents sadness. it’s something you’ve had enough of. sure, there’s other colours. posters upon posters–some neon, and green leaves stuck onto a large potted plant. there’s other colours just like there’s other feelings, but the one you’re stuck on, the one you can’t get over is sadness; it's blue.

“i hate the colour blue, Ms. Jacobs.” You tell her.

“why?” she asks, interested in you opening up further. you don’t.

“are you going to give me the run-down? tell me what i can and can’t say?”

her brows furrow. “do i need to? i called you here to talk about your grades but if there’s something else going on–”

“there isn’t ms jacobs. i do appreciate the concern, though. about my grades. they’re passing, i don’t see the problem.” you didn’t have a single grade above fifty five. it was hard to, when all of your teachers assigned heaps and heaps of homework and you would rather take a deep-dive into hellfire, brimstone, and lakes of lava, then return to the place you were expected to complete it at.

“call me tara.” you don’t.

“ms jacobs, if it would make you happy, i’ll try harder.”

“it would, y/n. thank you.”

you gather your things and stand. a glance at your phone lets you know your second class is over, so you plan to head to the cafeteria. “and y/n, just know that whatever you say to me is confidential.” Unless you are or are planning to hurt yourself, someone else, or if someone is hurting you.

“bye ms jacobs.”

walking into the cafeteria was masochistic in a way, when they were serving your favourite food, and you had no lunch or money to buy any with. still, in your hurried text chain with danny, this is where you had decided to meet. If you had to sit with the theatre kids to score some time with your friend, you would, although it would be better if you could grab him and go somewhere that didn’t make your mouth water and stomach ache.

walking over to his table, you noticed alex was there too. Just chatting with his brother. You and alex weren’t the best friends, but he was nice enough, and like issac, lee, nathan, and cole, you had his number written down in your notepad under the ‘just in case’ column. you didn’t mind alex, he was polite and much like his brother, danny, never made you feel less than. alex was always armed with a smile.

“danny!” you called, announcing your presence so you wouldn’t scare anyone. you smiled at Alex who as expected, mirrored your expression. “nice to see you. mind if I cut in and steal your brother?”

alex nods, “be my guest. i’ll see you at the end of the day danny!”

he leaves and then you’re pulling danny up and along with you. he barely has time to grab his lunchbox before the two of you are leaving the cafeteria and heading outside. you slump down against the brick wall and danny takes a seat across from you. cross-legged, he pulls out two sandwiches and hands one to you. you eyes widen.

“i’m pretty observant,” he supplies, shrugging.

“thank you, d” you eat the sandwich, and it’s a good one. “do you have plans after school?” ‘please don’t be busy, please don’t be busy, please don’t be busy’ you repeat in your head over and over again. it’s a mantra, you’re manifesting. hoping, hoping, hoping.

“y/n/n, i’m sorry, i actually do. erin tried out for the school’s production and she wants help going over her lines–i would invite you to tag along but…”

“no, no!” yoy laugh. manifesting doesn’t work, mantras are pointless, and shit, what are you supposed to do about tonight? “no, danny. don’t worry about it. i know you like erin and this is the perfect opportunity! if she’s asking for help with lines–i mean you’re awesome–but let’s be real, you can go over lines with anyone. so, if she’s asking you specifically for help, that's such a good–a really good sign!”

you two talk for a while longer but it’s easy to see your mind is elsewhere.

the bell rings, you head to your last classes, and then home.

you’ve got to go home.

well, to your house. that place, those four walls, they stopped being your home a long time ago. when your dad got drunk and your mom got mean.

cole walter pulls up beside you on your way home. his truck slows down, nearly to a stop, and you keep walking. your headphones are on and you’re pretending you can’t hear him. you can, but, you hope he’ll tire of shouting, slam his food on the gas pedal, and leave you in a cloud of dust. “y/n, hey! l/n, you need a ride or what?”

the truck stops, pulls off the side of the road and then you’re hearing a door slam and cringing, face crinkling as you realise you should’ve just said no. shouted it, even.

cole walter jogs up to you. he knows your house is quite far away. too far away to be walking. he calls to you again but you’re still walking forward. he places his hand on your shoulder. you know he’s there. you know he’s beside him and still you fucking flinch. the second time today and you're feeling pathetic. you shouldn’t be–really shouldn’t be. it’s not your fault that people can’t seem to respect the concept of personal space, not your fault that your trust has been violated, shredded and spat out, so many times that touch makes you jump. makes you want to jump, or crawl, your way out of your own skin. you flip your headphones down, letting them fall around your neck, but turning your music up a few clicks so you can still hear it. music is your vice, but no one’s complaining because it’s better than alcohol or drugs or, i don't know, being an asshole–you do that too. unintentionally sometimes. like now.

“what?” you snap. on the defensive.

cole isn’t surprised by your flinching. You were dead to the world, listening to music so loud he could hear it from where he stood paces away from you. if he were you–if it was your hand that had sat down onto his shoulder and surprised him he probably would have shouted. he caught you off guard, he was sorry. both of his hands stuck up in the air. “that’s my bad. sorry for scaring you.”

“sorry for–” you guess he did scare you. in a way. “it’s fine. what are you doing here?” you take your time looking at cole. his sharp jaw, full lips, his blue eyes. usually you hate that colour, but on him? it’s not so bad.

“offering you a ride. youe place is pretty far from here, yeah?”

“it is but i like walking.”

“walking is fine and all, but it’s getting colder and it gets dark around five now. by the time you make it home it’ll be past that. my truck has heat, comfy seats, and i’ll even let you have aux.”

you’re not a stranger to the effect cole walter has on everyone. not at all. when he smiles at you, you feel your cheeks warm. you’re an idiot for not taking him up on that offer. your feet already ache and your legs burn.

some things hurt more, though.

actions, all of them, have consequences.

“i’m fine, cole. but thank you. you’re sweet.”

he shakes his head. you aren’t walking anymore, instead, stopped on the side of the road just waiting. this conversation, it’s going places. places you don’t like. “i can’t let you walk home alone. not in good conscience.”

he’s jogging back to his truck and pulling up beside you. he’s leaning over the centre console and pushing the door open. leaning over further, and helping you up, not starting to drive again until your seatbelt is buckled. if only that was the least of your worries. if. only.

“so what do you want to play?”

you plug in your phone and queue up your playlist. a sad song blasts and you hit skip very quickly, not missing the questioning look cole sends you. you laugh, “don’t tell me you’ve never listened to sad music while you’re reading.”

“i don’t read much, and most of the music i listen to is because of the lyrics. those ones were… dark.”

choosing to disregard most of his statement, you echoed his words back to him. “you don’t read much?”

“alex reads a lot. you two would get along.”

“shared interests aren’t everything. we don’t have much in common but i enjoy your company and danny and i click and we both hate each other's favourite tv show with a passion.”

“what show is that?” you tell him and he grins. “that’s my favourite too–seriously. we should get together and watch it sometime.”

“i’d love that!” so, shared interests aren’t everything, but they’re certainly something. you smile for a couple more kilometres and then it gets harder. when you see the sign with your civic on it, you know that the ride, no matter how awesome it was, and how much fun you had, wasn’t worth it.

you hop out of the truck–cole offered to walk you to the door but you denied, knowing you were already in for it. “thank you, though.”

He nodded. “i can give you a ride tomorrow, too. anytime you need one, really. just ask–or get danny to. I really don’t mind.” you smile. thank him again and climb out of the truck. you walk confidently until he pulls out of the long driveway and onto the road. then you sigh, and it’s because of cole’s conscience that you get home before it’s dark enough for you to slip in unnoticed.

you pause on the porch. you don’t want to go in, but you don’t have a choice. not really. what are your other options? run off into the woods and let yourself be some colorado woodland creature’s lunch? knowing what’s coming, it doesn’t sound too bad. you open the door and nearly sob when the wind slams it shut behind you.

your heart beats hard in your chest like your father’s boots do on the floor. “where the hell have you been! days, gone for days. you couldn’t call, couldn’t fucking text,” with each word, most of them slurred, he storms closer. it’s not even suppertime and his eyes are glassed over with that familiar film, his breath a pungent reminder, as obvious as the one in his hand, of what he’s been drinking all day. your mother is behind him in the hallway, puffing on a cigarette, uninterested. “there’s no respect! ya here the brat? thinking they run the place. comin’ and goin without a care.”

“i don’t–i know i don’t run the place.”

“damn right you don’t!” the half empty–you’ve never been a glass-half-full type of person, not growing up in this–bottle of beer come flying at the wall. it hits just above your head, the liquid and brown pieces of glass falling all over you.

“look what you made me do now! gone and spilled m’drink.”

you had taken your converse off at the door. always being yelled at for trekking in mud and dirtying the floor, the hurried steps you take backwards, hurt. your dad is wearing work boots, steel toe, but the only thing between you and the broken glass is a thin pair of socks. your skin splits. the light blue fabric on your feet turns dark red.

you whimper and each step hurts more than the last. then you bump into the wall. “dad, please.”

“calling me tha’ like you think it’ll make me forgive you. fuck,” he throws a glance over his shoulder. “how’d we make something so… so pathetic?”

your mom shrugs, like she hasn’t a clue, either.

“dad, please. i’m sorry, okay? i’ll call next time.”

“there won’t be a fucking next time! get your shit and get out. all we do for you, all we do and you’re still impossible. keep you fed, clothed, give you a place to sleep and just get attitude, attitude, and disrespect. i’m done being disrespected. done!”

“you can’t just kick me out! i have nowhere to go.” you yell. you yelled. you yelled. oh god. oh hell. oh shit. you see his leg rear back and you go to jump out of the way. you’ve already been kicked out–you just need to get out, and quickly. you jump over his leg but then his fist is wrapped in your hair and you’re falling. then the boot you dodged is slamming into you side. again, again, again. tears are streaming down your face. you’re sobbing.

then he’s picking you up by your shirt. lifting you, dragging you. he opens the door, grabs your bag, your shoes, and throws them outside. then, then he throws you. you land on the porch, body aching and pressing into the hardwood.

the door slams and you’re still sobbing. you’re pretty sure that your new mantra is ‘fuck’. it’s what you repeat over and over again as you drag yourself up and away from the front door. You need to get away, you need to get away. You really need to. creating distance between you and that door, you and those people, is priority.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.”

running isn’t really in the cards for you. you limp away and don’t miss your mother peering out the kitchen window. you guess that from her perspective you do look pathetic. but no more pathetic than your dad, the grown man who had to hurt you to feel powerful and get his point across. your pace is terrible but the darker it gets, the further you get. you’re in the woods now, with no idea where exactly you are and not much supplies. maybe you will end up as woodland creature dinner. there’s not much you can do to help it now. you think about calling someone and then you realise your phone isn’t in your bag. you start to shake. choked laughter bubbles it’s way out of your throat. you’re laughing and then the hysterics shift and you’re sobbing. arms wrapped tightly around yourself you cry for what must be hours.

later, slumped against a tree trunk you decide to tackle your feet. one problem at a time, one shard at a time. you pluck pieces out of your skin and the blood makes you feel nauseous. when the job is done, you slide your socks back on, and walk towards the sound that comforts you most. Rushing water. you find a river, and kneel at its edge. you wash your socks, yourself, and dry on a stone in the sun. you scrub the dirt and grime from your feet. when your socks are mostly dry and the cuts have stopped gushing blood, you put on your shoes and lace them up. then you follow the river. you’ll reach town soon enough. your face isn’t marred, just the rest of you, all hidden beneath layers of clothes–a long sleeve, a flannel, blue jeans.

ideally, you’ll find danny.

you don’t live in an ideal world. the boy you find is not danny but he wants something you can give and has something you need–a place to sleep. you do so without clothes, lying next to him. What you did was in the dark, would stay that way, because before he woke, before you were made to converse with the nameless boy, you dressed and snuck out. the walk of shame was just that, shameful. you felt horrendous. your body still hurt and you found yourself walking into a cafe you knew haley, will’s wife worked at.

asking for handouts made your stomach sour but you couldn’t do much else.

haley was scrubbing down a table when you approached her. “hey, haley.”

“y/n, hey, how’s it going?” then she turned to you and realised, not good. that it was not going good. you shot her a flattened smile. “i really hate to ask. like, i really really do, but i haven’t eaten in a bit and was wondering–”

“yeah, yes. of course. just have a seat, i’ll grab you… do you have any dietary restrictions?” you answer her, and when she comes back, handing you a wrapped meal you thank her profusely. “is there anything you need done around here? i appreciate this so much, but i don’t want to take advantage. i can clean–i’m not a great cook but I can make coffee.”

“you don’t need to do anything. you aren’t taking advantage. not at all. is there anything else i can do for you? anyone i can call? your parents?”

fear fills your eyes and perceptive as ever, she catches it. “not them, please.” is what you whisper. haley nods, disappears behind the counter and makes a phone call. then, she dotes on you for the next ten minutes until wil pulls up outside. he comes in, walks over to your table and sits down across from you.

you’re pretty sure you’ve been caught. the ruse, it’s very much up.

“what’s going on, y/n?”

you shrug and sip at the hot chocolate haley made for you. “well, come on. you don’t have to say anything right now but let’s get you home.” you stand, ready to go anywhere but, and will stops you. “my parent’s home, danny’s. katherine knows you’re coming. come on, kid.”

you follow him to the car. most of the drive is silent, but you thank him when the walter’s house homes into view and katherine is waiting outside on the porch with a smile. up the few stairs, and you head straight for her. you’re grateful for her gentle nature, because as you throw your arms around her and squeeze, she simply rests hers on your back, rubbing soothing circles. “they–they kicked me out.”

she takes a minute to respond, only because she finds this hard to process. you were a good kid, a great one, and she, having so many of her own, couldn’t think of a single thing that would make her abandon or discard one of her own children. “you’ll stay with us then.” it isn’t a question and you’re glad because how would you have answered? your mouth is dry but your eyes aren’t.

you sit in danny’s room. he isn’t home from school yet but he will be soon. katherine and george are upstairs making room for you. you feel like a burden, they assure you that you are not.

you’re waiting for danny, only he isn't who makes it home first. it’s cole. he walks in, tosses his bag down onto the bed, none the wiser that there’s another person in the room. his back faces you and he’s rifling through a drawer when he hears you hiccup. he turns around quickly. Sees you, crying in his brother's bed and immediately his brows are furrowed. “y/n?” he walks closer. the bed is near to the ground so he drops onto his knees. he’s close to you know but he’s made himself less intimidating. “y/n/n? hey.”

“hi Cole.”

“are you okay?”

“i’ve been better.”

cole doesn’t ask, he doesn’t push. instead he opens his laptop, logs into his netflix and puts on the favourite show you both discussed watching together. when the two of you are settled. him on the floor, face resting on the mattress, where you’re curled up in a blanket that belongs to his brother, he breaks the silence. “do you want me to get danny?”

“where is he?”

“he’s with erin at the school. i think they’re going over details for the production. but i can go get him if you need him. do you need him?”

you shake your head. as danny’s best friend you were the biggest ‘derin’ shipper there was. plus, cole was here. he made things okay. “no, no thanks. i don’t really want you to go anywhere if that’s okay?”

“that’s more than okay, but i will say, my bed is comfier.”

you smile for the first time in a bit, looking at the uncomfortable position he has himself in. “yeah? well, we should definitely watch this, over there then.”

“my thoughts exactly.” cole grabs the laptop, grabs you, still wrapped in the blanket he tells himself he’ll replace from the linen closet, and carries both over to his bed. you squeal a bit and bite back a real whimper when his hand touches what you know has to be a massive bruise, sitting you down.

you fall asleep, leaning against him. he pauses the show, closes his laptop, and promises to resume it when you’re awake to watch it with him. then he sends a threatening text to his brother, danny.

COLE: Y/n/n has had a rough day and is sleeping in our room

COLE: Wake her up and you’ll get hit

DANNY: is she okay??? ALSO since when do you call her y/n/n???

COLE: I’ll see you later

COLE: Tell Erin hi for me

DANNY: fuck off

george and katherine didn’t receive that same threatening text but when they peeked into the room to check on you and found you cuddled up against cole, snoring lightly, and looking peaceful they left you be. your room was ready and in the morning you moved into it. your clothes were dirty and katherine washed them for you but in the meantime… well it was her dresses or… or what you went with.

you knocked your fist against the door and cole opened it, shirtless.

“hey cole,” look at his face. just his face. only his face.

“hey y/n. What can i help you with?”

your hand flew to the back of your neck which you rubbed awkwardly. “can i, uh… would you mind if I borrowed a pair of jeans and a belt?” cole chuckled, then realised you were completely serious. then he gave you the jeans. then the belt. “need a shirt too?”

you laughed, cheeks stained pink. “i wouldn’t mind…”

he handed you the plain black one in his hand. “riding with me to school?”

“if i’ve got shotgun.”

“‘course.” he said, grinning.

you headed upstairs and got changed. the pants were big but with the belt, and them cuffed they fit alright. then, came the shirt. it fell mid thigh but once you tucked it in a bit it didn’t look too terrible. you brushed your hair, your teeth, and headed downstairs. george looked at you with wide eyes and you shrugged, “i don’t really like dresses?”

katherine sighed. “we’ll get you some clothes after school.”

“from the thrift store!” you amended.

she rolled her eyes but agreed anyway. then, you were sitting beside cole on the way to school, during the one class you shared, and at lunchtime. you weren’t ditching danny, just his time was split between you and erin now. they started dating. they were sweet, good for and to, each other.

you’d only been living with the walters for two days, but everything was great. until cole invited you to the lake house. two coolers had you feeling buzzed and when it was your first turn, playing ‘truth or dare’, you picked truth and ended up faced with a question you didn’t want to answer. so you turned, and pressed your lips to cole’s. his lips parted in surprise, but then he kissed you back, tongue slipping into your mouth as he deepened the kiss. his hands flew to cup your face, your eyes were shut, and you were feeling things. until someone whistled and another yelled: “get a room!”

next round, you were three coolers in and ballsy enough to pick dare. “i dare you to jump into the lake!”

you rolled your eyes. like that was difficult. sure, it was a bit chilly, but you’d been in the river days ago. rushing water compared to water the sun had beat down on all day was nothing. you grinned, and ran to the edge of the dock, canon-balling and sending water flying everywhere. when you surfaced you saw the asshole who wore cole’s jersey shaking water out of his hair like a dog. you grinned, and started to swim back over when you saw something that caused you to sober up quickly. the foundation and powder you had painted on top of the hand shaped bruise on your arm had worn off. gone. It was gone and fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.

when you didn’t get out of the water immediately cole was curious. when your face reflected horror, he was concerned.

“you good?” you weren’t. he walked over to the edge and dipped his hand in. the water was freezing. “come on out, you’ll get sick.”

you shook your head, plastering a clearly fake smile on your face. “my immune system is really strong and i want to swim! i’ll be fine cole, gonna go that way.” you make a gesture with your head and begin to paddle in that general direction. away from the lakehouse, away from the people, away from the party. away from cole—or, you tried to get away from cole. he walked on the bank, steps matching your strokes as he followed you. “get out of the water, y/n.” you were still swimming, and now cole was having to duck under and climb over branches and bushes to continue following. now, you couldn’t even hear the people at the lake house.

“no thank you.”

“don’t be stubborn. this was—it was funny thirty minutes ago! It’s lost the charm. just get out, we’ll go back and…”

“i don’t want to go back.”

“then we’ll go home. would that make you happy? we can leave, we don't have to go back to school, i can take you home.”

“i want to stay in the water, cole.”

“y/n, just get out of the fucking lake. it’s not that hard! i don’t understand why you won’t—“

you’re in waist deep water and all of you is submerged until it isn’t. you stand up quickly. teats sting your eyes and emotion clogs your throat. “you don’t understand, huh?” your voice breaks, shatters, and cracks. “does this help? do you see why when i say i want to keep swimming, i mean it? do you see why i want to stay in the water cole?”

he sees something. he sees bruises on your arms. deep purple handprints put there by too big hands and with too much force—force that never should have been used on you. he’s blinking, his eyes are seeing but his mind isn’t thinking, not fast enough.

“do you see?!” you’re shouting now, sobbing too. “because the makeup washed off and now you can see it. bow everyone can. everyone will see and then they’ll report it and i’ll end up in the system in an equally shitty situation! cole,” another wave of sobs interrupts, “cole don’t make me get out of the water.” he doesn’t, he climbs in with you. water soaks his boots, the bottoms of his jeans, you hear it slosh as he takes large steps and closes the distance between you both. “y/n/n.”

“what?” it’s a sob, a plea.

“we’re going to get out of the lake. i’m going to walk you through the woods, out to the road and then i’m going to go get my truck. i’ll be ten minutes tops. i’ll grab my hoodie too.”

“it’s… it’s back on the chair.”

“the red one, i know.”

“okay…”

cole keeps his word, but after five minutes you hear his truck. it stops, he hops out. he sets the hoodie on top of you and you shimmy into it. “No one will see, no one you don’t want to know, will know. but y/n, you will never go back there, okay? not to that house, not ever, because if you go, i’m following, and the things i do, most authorities will not agree with.”

“i don’t ever want to go back there.”

“you won’t ever have to.”

“thank you.”

“don’t thank me for helping you with something that never should’ve happened. we’ll get you some ice as soon as we’re home.” cole cranks the heat up and angles the fans to point your way.

he opens your door for you and walks closely behind you. no one else is home—katherine and george both working and the others at school. cole raids the freezer for anything remotely icey and heads up to your room. he makes a pit-stop to grab his laptop and some snacks from a drawer none of his brothers would ever know about. he steals the blanket you like off of danny’s bed too—the soft one with the blue plaid.

you both watch the show, he looks concerned when you press the frozen peas to your side too. you lift your shirt, show him the damage and he freezes. “ugly, huh?”

“nothing about you has ever been ugly, y/n/n but jesus, maybe we should go to a hospital.”

“flattery will get you everywhere cole but there’s no denying i looked like van gogh fucked up starry night—and no hospital. they’d like immediately call someone. plus i think they’re just bruised and not broken so that’s good.”

“i’m sorry that this happened to you.”

“oh don’t do that. i hate when people apologise for things that aren’t their fault.”

“can i apologise for danny, then? for him not realising what was happening sooner?” cole asked. people weren’t perfect, you realised that then, cole having said the first thing that genuinely upset you. this was no one’s fault. No one but your scum of the earth parent’s.

“no. danny didn’t do anything wrong. i didn’t want him to know and usually i’m good at hiding these things.” a bitter laugh, and: “usually.”

“i blame the alcohol, but, i guess it’s nice that you know.”

“i’m glad i know.”

and he is. he carries your bag, your books, even goes thrifting with you and katherine. “i like this one,” he’d said, holding up a shirt that barely had any fabric to it. you rolled your eyes for the fiftieth time and picked out a baggy graphic tee shirt instead.

at school he walks you to and from your classes. he sits with you at lunch and helps you come up with excuses—none so awesome that they work without the grin and charm he lays on your pe teacher.

weeks later, your bruises were healed, and to the blind eye, the only indication you’d been abused was the occasional flinching. cole tended to call out his moves before he made them, especially if you weren’t sure exactly where he was. your arguments–few and far between, seriously, the only thing you’d argued about so far was where you went for lunch, were had with calm voices and distance between the two of you. cole was perfect. he never caught you off guard, he was just always there.

wouls see you getting anxious and move closer. “i’m going to hold your hand,” he’d whisper. when you needed someone to talk to it was always him because he was always there.

then, one night, the two of you were sitting on that same blue plaid blanket. the one you loved–the one cole had paid danny $40 for. you were both staring up at the same stars, both wondering the same thing: when had you become so close? you weren’t sure if there was a turning point, a particular defining moment, but cole had taken danny’s place in your heart as ‘best friend’. cole had done that and more. he was more to you than that. he baked your favourite pastry, would go just about anywhere with you, and he made you smile. he made you feel safe. he had told no one your secret–but katherine and george had a clue, enough of one that they welcomed you with open arms and seldomly raised their voices. enough of one, that for that first few weeks, the ice was always restocked in the freezer.

they had an idea.

but cole knew. knew everything. knew and made you feel okay in spite of everything. he knew and still.. still looked at you like… like that. cole, he leaned in closer. you waited and listened. “i’m going to kiss you. because i want to. because i love you how you deserve to be loved. and not because of some truth or dare game.

“it wasn’t bad though, right? because i thought it was a pretty good ki–”

cole walter kept his word. he kissed you, and sure, the kiss at the lake house was good. this one was just better.

#cole walter x reader #cole walter #cole walter x y/n #cole walter x you #mlwtwb #mlwtwb imagines #cole walter imagines #my life with the walter boys #danny walter #alex walter

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trevuorzegras · 1 month

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━╋ WRONG TIME IS INCONVENIENT

✿ umich cheer au masterlist ⬚͒ㅤㅤㅤ♪

ⓘ you can find all parts to this series, here! this will be x reader instead of an oc, however i will be using #wrong time is an inconvenience au tag as a guide. this hashtag is where you can also find all the works for this series. ❤︎

fem!reader x mark estapa

mentions of fem!reader x cole sillinger

mentions of mark estapa x fem!oc

jules leblanc will be my faceclaim throughout this series, however you can imagine whoever you want, as she is just here for media reasons. enjoy!

⊹ prologue!

One of Umich’s best cheerleaders y/n y/l/n finds out her boyfriend Cole Sillinger has been cheating on her, through instagram. The breakup is extremely public, and messy. Soon enough her bestfriend, Jade drags her to a hockey game, and then a post hockey game party, where she meets Mark Estapa. She instantly feels a connection with him, the two becoming friends easily.

⊹ chapters!

she was boring (chapter one)

more coming soon . . .

⊹ blurbs / short imagines!

coming soon . . .

warnings + extra information!

first and foremost, most things that'll be in this fic are most likely untrue. i will try my best to make things believable, but at the end of the day, it's a fic.

number two, this is mostly going to be a social media fic, as i see that it does the best.

three, this is purely for entertainment, if you have anything negative to say, you can scroll.

IMPORTANT I an oc by the name of jjde winters will be mentioned throughout this series, Jade’s faceclaim is jayden bartels. she will portray readers bestfriend, so don't be confused if you see jayden used throughout the series.

also, cole did not date tate in this series.

excited for this fic, please make sure to check out my navigation, here!

check out my college hockey masterlist, here!

taglist | @wnderify @bunbunbl0gs @alwaysclassyeagle @bunting58 @callsignwidow @crazycat-ladys-blog @hughesfein

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dearstvckyx · 2 months

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how the hockey boys would react to you wearing their jersey for the first time as their girlfriend

Cole Caufield

cole would only be able to catch a glimpse of you in the crowd, he sees you are wearing a canadiens jersey but not who’s.

he sees you taking pictures with you friend and knows your gonna post them on instagram or at least to your story.

when they go back to the locker room after the first period he instantly grabs his phone to see if you posted, and you did to your story.

he hesitates a bit and finally clicks the story and sees a photo of you facing towards the rink and the name Caufield and the number 22 staring back at him.

cole would immediately feel a rush of pride seeing you in his jersey. It's a symbol of your support for him and his career.

his heart would likely be beating faster than normal. he also starts blushing to the point the guys on the team start teasing him.

he’d probably be unable to keep the wide grin off his face during the rest of the game.

when he scores a goal he’ll point towards you mouthing the words, “my good luck charm right there”

Jack Hughes

jack would feel a sense of pride seeing you in his jersey, he would definitely start bragging

he would be surprised but happy, as he didn't expect you to be wearing his jersey. since you were sitting with other wags he thought you would dress formal or something.

he’ll definitely show off on the rink to impress you more, which ends up with luke teasing the hell out of him

when the games over, with the devils having won 7-2 against the Kings he’s the first to change out of his gear and ignore the interviewees to find you

when he does he spins you around to see his name and number on your back

he then makes you promise to always wearing his jerseys whenever you come to a game.

Jamie Drysdale

jamie’s heart would skip a beat the moment he caught sight of you in the crowd, proudly wearing his jersey.

he’d be shocked at first but then turn cocky and showing you off to his teammates and his coach or equipment people.

when the game starts he’s showing off every-chance he gets.

after every goal that he makes he ALWAYS points to you.

he’ll literally start talking to the opponents telling them “my girls here, its her first game and shes wearing MY jersey”

when the games over his team has one 6-3 which half of those goals being from jamie.

once you two reunite he’s taking a picture and sending it to his groupchat that consists of him, trevor, cole, alex, jack, luke and quinn.

is literally rambling about you in the groupchat. it finally got to the point where jack kicked him out.

(don’t worry trevor ended up adding him back)

Luke Hughes

jack would point you out to luke. his eyes would instantly light up when he sees you and he’d have the biggest grin on his face.

he’d feel a sense of pride wash over him. seeing you wearing his jersey would make him feel like you're really his.

he would likely be quite flustered and blush a little, not used to seeing you in his clothes.

seeing you in his jersey would make him think of all the times you've supported him and been there for him. from high school to umich to the pro league.

he’d definitely make a point to tell you how good you look in his jersey. he’d make sure you know that he loves seeing you in it (take that how you want).

made you promise to wear his number all the time, but you ended up getting your friend to make a custom one with devils and canucks colors/logo alongside quinn jacks and lukes number.

Mitch Marner

he’d feel a sense of pride, seeing you in his jersey.

he’d definitely pull you in for a tight hug, not able to contain his joy.

he might tease you a little, saying something like, "It looks better on you than it does on me."

he’d have a soft look in his eyes, clearly touched by your show of support.

he’d probably show you off to his teammates, proudly declaring, "that’s my girl!” and when you leave the locker room some of the guys are teasing him about you.

he’d might snap a picture of you wearing his jersey after the game wanting to capture the moment (and maybe make it his lockerscreen)

he’d definitely feel loved, seeing you proudly wearing his jersey.

Nico Hischier

he wouldn't be able to hide the smile that slowly spreads across his face as he takes in the sight of you wearing it.

he would feel a mixture of pride and affection. it’s one thing for him to see his fans wearing his jersey, but it's an entirely different feeling to see his girlfriend wearing it.

nico might tease you a bit, just to see you get all flustered. joking that the jersey looks better on you than it does on him. but behind the teasing, he would genuinely be thrilled that you're wearing it.

he would probably take a picture of you in his jersey, sending it to the devils group chat showing you off.

would mumble in his language about how “pretty” and “cute” you look

always asks you if your coming to a game and if your wearing his jersey

and if you wanna know what happens when you wear anothers teammates jersey well… try it and find out 😉😉

Quinn Hughes

he would feel a surge of pride and affection seeing you represent not just him but his team as well.

he’d be slightly taken aback initially, as he wasn't expecting to see you in his jersey. he’d try to play it cool, but the surprise and happiness in his eyes would give him away. (which results in his teammates and the fans questioning why he’s so happy)

he’d have a constant smile on his face for the rest of the day, unable to hide how much he loves seeing you in his jersey.

would get you every type of jersey with his last name and number just for you to wear every game and when just random days when your shopping or getting your nails or hair done.

would call his mom bragging about it (cause let’s be honest quinns the type to gossip with ellen 😭)

definitely takes a photo when your not looking and makes it both his homescreen, lockscreen and your contact photo.

Trevor Zegras

doesn’t even know your coming to his game and when he sees you he would be surprised, at first.

the surprise would quickly turn into a wide grin, clearly pleased with the sight.

he’d would pull out his phone immediately to snap a picture, before he goes out wanting to remember the moment.

he’d tease you lightly, joking about how you're his number one fan now. even going as far as saying, “let me guess, you have a fan account for me”. (he’d definitely become cocky)

trevor would insist on showing you off to his teammates, pointing you out to the crowd when he’s on the bench. and when he’s on the ice he’s bragging about you to his opponents.

seeing you in his jersey would remind him of his feelings for you, making him fall for you all over again.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

a/n: please ignore any spelling mistakes 😆 unless you see duo then please lmk 🩶

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bedsyandco · 1 month

Text

TRIP TO TORONTO

yn.matthews

liked by austonmatthews, mitchmarner, and others.

yn.matthews: I’m here for a good time, not a long time. guess who Toronto🫣👀

view comments

mitchmarner: did you just quote drake at us?

yn.matthews: and if I did?🤨

mitchmarner: how long have you been in town?

yn.matthews: I got here a few hours ago…

mitchmarner: and you haven’t come to see me yet? 🤨

yn.matthews: don’t use my emojis. ur too old for them🙃

mitchmarner: emojis don’t have an age. and don’t age shame.

yn.matthews: sounds like something an old person would say 💀

mitchmarner: I see you brought your Arizona manners with you 🧍‍♂️

austonmatthews: HEY!

matthewknies: yeah HEY!

morganrielly: remember when we talked about how you guys have each others numbers and some discussions could be had with texts? this is one of those

yn. matthews: yes mr. tessa virtue 🫡

papi34: she’s fkn gorgeous bro😩

bruins33: don’t know how she’s related to auston 💀

leafs3416: mini matts is back in town? no way. we’re about to go on a heater

yn.matthews

liked by matthewknies, colecaufield, and others.

yn.matthews: missed seeing him play. #34’s biggest fan💙

view comments

austonmatthews: 💙😁

papi34: ur gonna have to move to toronto if they play like that every time you go to a game

torontomapleleafs: always good to have you in the house💙

leafsfan: all of leafs nation has the biggest crush on you rn

user32: not just leafs nation it looks like 👀

user21: yeah no. cole thinking he’s slick with the like💀

matthewknies: blue is your colour 😍

user16: oh? okayyyy kniesy

leafsforever: easy now. auston might have you traded

torontomapleleafs

torontomapleleafs: the boys are looking sharp tonight 💙

view comments

yn.matthews: hopefully my future checks are as big as his forehead

maxdomi: 💀💀💀

austonmatthews: think it’s time to ship you back to AZ

yn.matthews

liked by matthewknies, mitchmarner, and others.

yn.matthews: toronto is stealing my heart. might need to stay a while 🙃🥰

view comments

matthewknies: I mean Toronto is pretty great. lots to do. lots to see😌

mitchmarner: sure. toronto is stealing your heart.

yn.matthews: 👀

user23: I mean we all know that’s Kniesy right ??

user21: looks like him

austonmatthews: would be so nice to have you close. if that’s the one positive thing this relationship brings, I guess I can deal with it

yn.matthews: the ONE positive thing?? what about my happiness

austonmatthews: that too I guess 🧍‍♂️

#matthew knies x reader #matthew knies fic #matthew knies fluff #matthew knies fanfic

120 notes · View notes

krushedstars · 9 days

Text

PAWNS IN THE COSMOS

‧₊˚ ┊synopsis ... in a world where your soulmate is chosen by you, you wanted to be sure you would be happy as you delve into the complex webs of love.

‧₊˚ ┊fandom ... jujutsu kaisen. ㅤㅤ‧₊˚ ft. ... geto x gn!reader, gojo x gn!reader. ‧₊˚ ┊au! ... soulmates, college. ‧₊˚ ┊genre ... one-shot. ㅤㅤ‧₊˚ content ... fluff, angst. ㅤㅤ‧₊˚ word count ... 5.1k. ‧₊˚ ┊cole's note ... yes, the uni bits were based on my personal experience, ignore that and enjoy ur reading ♡

How is a person defined?

Of course we can delve into personality tangents and unique character traits that only each of us possesses in a perfect combination of stars and magic. However, this alone is not enough. A person is created by more than mere looks and personality; there are dreams, each person's own ways, unique hearts that shine with specific colors conceived by each thought, each action, each desire.

A single personality is not enough to define a person – and all the gods knew this. And as such, a new system was created.

Numbers.

What else to define a person than the infinity of numbers that made up the universe?

All human beings were born marked with simple numbers that dictated their souls; from zero to infinity, passing through the infinities of decimals that each one had for having managed to acquire a body in that new world.

Stuck on the back of their necks, hidden by occasional hair and various clothes, the numbers became something sacred in that society; not only was it something that defined a person, that made them unique, but they were also the main factor in relationships and connections. The thing is, bored with the eternity of cosmic lives, the gods liked to create small games that helped them in the static passage of time – and what more exciting than guiding the various lost souls to their better half?

A soulmate was something primordial.

Created long before the first star was born, soulmates roamed the world hand in hand, their stardust unique to each pair created by the various gods. They were essences without bodies, united only by cosmic dust that insisted on cradling them in the eternities of time and space in the universe. However, just star and cosmic dust was something monotonous, without any substance of its own, without a body of its own that made everything much easier to see, to be marveled at.

Thus, the first humans were created.

A connection that was only felt by the universe, beautified by the stars and constellations that they made their homes, was now something tangible, something that could be seen, something that could be admired. And, since then, relationships began to blossom in the world according to the seasons, making all the love that was felt to be the cause of all the misfortunes and happiness in the world.

Every year, small letters with a specific number and initials appeared on the bedside tables of thousands of people, a hint to eternal happiness appearing in black tones on a white background.

For years, humans followed their cards, creating happy and fulfilled lives for centuries, never once contesting the appearance of neither their cards nor their veracity; the gods commanded, the humans followed.

“Eighty-three million, two hundred and twenty thousand, six hundred and seventy-four point one hundred and ninety-three.”

“What?”

Gojo placed his apple juice on the table and looked at his friend, intrigued by the numbers he recited so naturally.

“It’s their number.”

“Their?” Gojo raised an eyebrow and let out a small pretentious smile, knowing perfectly well who Geto was talking about.

“Their. I saw it yesterday when they got off the bus. It was very brief, but I'm sure that was the number.”

“And what do you intend to do with this life-changing information?”

Geto looked at Gojo for the first time since they sat at the bar table. A smile played on the brunette's lips, his dark eyes shining with the possibilities that danced in his mind.

He leaned forward, his chest almost touching the plate with his sandwich and, in a whisper too low for such a noisy space, Geto spoke in a soft and quite convinced voice.

“Write down this number and compare it to the one on my card.”

“Have you received your card yet?”

Gojo's question came out automatically, a trace of nervousness clinging to the various syllables, his blue eyes widening behind his sunglasses.

“Not yet,” Geto sighed and resumed his starting position, playing with some loose crumbs from his sandwich. “But I believe it’s coming soon. I don’t know how to explain it, but every time I look at them…”

The words that were going to come out of Geto died in his mouth without having a chance to see the light of day. Taken by a mystical force, a chance written by the cosmos, Geto raised his face at the exact moment you entered the bar.

You looked beautiful that day.

Favored by the beauty of that day, the sun's rays painted your smile golden; your eyes shone with the light of new experiences, your words sounding as delicate as the breeze that day.

You entered the bar without any worries, your laugh filling the space with the delicacy of its sound. You were with your group of friends, looking for a free table in that crowded bar for you to have lunch before your afternoon class. Your eyes scanned the compartment with some hope, a smile lingering on your lips after a joke from your best friend.

And then you noticed. In all that confusion, oblivious to your friends' conversations, too focused on finding a place to sit, you saw Geto looking at you. Static, without any thought beyond his eyes, without any reaction when you approached him, your smile expanding with each step you took.

“Hello,” you stopped behind Gojo, one of your hands resting on his chair as your eyes jumped from Geto to Gojo. “Ready for the test?”

Gojo put his hands on his head, ruffling some of his silky hair as he let out a small growl, which made you laugh. And what a laugh. What a melody sung by your lips that seemed to fill the entire bar, drowning out every sound that appeared there.

“I spent the night studying, but I couldn’t memorize anything,” Gojo's outburst was accompanied by a tired sigh, his body leaning back against the chair, making you let go of it. “I don’t think even a miracle could save me.”

“Think of it like this,” you walked to the side of the table, Geto and Gojo on your sides, your group of friends in front of you waiting for you. “It’s about the Bible. Jesus will be with you.”

Gojo gave you a small frown and picked up his apple juice again, giving Geto a little kick under the table.

“And you? Are you ready?” Geto spoke finally, holding his sandwich and taking a small bite as he waited for your response.

“What helps me is being able to take the Bible with me,” you confessed between smiles and winks. “But I’m confident. Our presentation actually went well.”

“The teacher liked it,” Geto set down his sandwich and looked at you. “I think we even make a good team.”

“And I wouldn’t give anything for you two,” you smiled as you gently ruffled Gojo’s hair. “Well, I'm going now. See you later.”

Geto followed you with his gaze out of the bar, the way your body walked excitedly towards your friends, the way your smile didn't leave your lips for a single second.

“Eighty-three million, two hundred and twenty thousand, six hundred and seventy-four point one hundred and ninety-three.” Geto repeated it again under his breath, his eyes still fixed on the bar door.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━❀━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I can’t believe the teacher gave us more work,” Geto grunted, storming into his room. “Where do you want to start?”

He placed his Bible on the desk, throwing his backpack onto the bed. Gojo followed in his footsteps, throwing the book on the bed and placing the backpack on the floor, opening it immediately with a sigh.

“We can start with the document the teacher gave us…” Gojo’s voice was full of doubts and uncertainties, his hands frantically searching his backpack for his notebook. “We can read it and go from there.”

Geto didn't say anything.

Sitting down at the desk, the brunette turned on his computer and waited a few moments until his desktop began to glow in shades of blue and silver. “You start with the document and I’ll look for which books we need to study.”

Gojo nodded and, after making himself comfortable on his best friend's bed, he began to dive into the waves of knowledge in the document, reading and rereading concepts and terms, looking for something in the various lines of ink that could help him in his new work.

Geto, in turn, opened the web page, typing a few words before spending minutes opening and closing tabs, desperately looking for help. Beside him, the Bible was open, several sheets of papers and memory aids reminding Geto which books he needed to highlight and look deeper into.

Shrouded in stories and theories, the two friends didn't notice as the hours passed; Too focused on their work, taking some notes and highlighting the most important thing, Geto and Gojo disconnected from the outside world, believing that, the sooner they finished that work, the sooner they would free themselves from the academic responsibilities that gave them so many headaches.

The sun was slowly setting.

From Geto's bedroom window, the various street lamps began to shine with the certainty that a long night was approaching; cars and people retired to their homes at the end of a long day of work and in the sky, between the soft clouds and the dark blue expanse, several stars made their way to the earth, telling in their death endless stories of past memories and lives lived.

Geto stretched out in his chair. Putting down the computer mouse for a moment and looking away from the screen for the first time since he got home, Geto felt tired. Totally devastated by a complicated day in his life: the Classical Texts exam had gone wrong, no matter how many prayers were in the Bible, he knew that his grade would go down; the teacher, at the end of the exam, gave his students one last assignment in a week full of exams and presentations; and, to end the last ray of hope in Geto, that day had been another day in which he was unable to do anything other than admire you.

It had been almost two years, but Geto had simply withdrawn into a bubble of shyness that prevented him from functioning decently in front of you. He didn't understand why, but you had a power over him; like a spell, an enchantment that prevented him from functioning normally in your presence. It all happened so fast, he didn't even remember the first time he succumbed to your charms, but, once consumed by your unique, cosmic essence, he found himself trapped in a web of emotions that prevented him from leaving.

But now was not the time to dwell on you. Now Geto had an obligation to fulfill and, as much as he wanted to ignore it, he knew that his responsibility as a student had to be pleased.

“Do you want to order food?”

Gojo straightened up in bed, putting his pencil behind his ear, adjusting his sunglasses on his head. “I’m not very hungry…”

“But we need to eat,” Geto stood up with a small grunt, walking away from the desk and grabbing his cell phone. “I'm going to order some food and I'll take the opportunity to call Shoko to ask her for the texts for tomorrow.”

Gojo didn't answer him.

With tired eyes and a yawn trapped in his mouth, Gojo saw his best friend leaving the room, making the room plunge into serene silence.

Tired of studying, feeling a strong pain in his back, Gojo fell onto the bed, taking out his cell phone and starting to explore the digital world while waiting for Geto to return.

Gojo was freely lost among images and videos, reading loose sentences without any context, finding a bit of tranquility in the mess of others; Gojo's slender fingers moved across the screen with ease, clicking on images and links, allowing him to sink into a little peace before returning to work.

But no matter how involved he was in the digital world, that didn't stop Gojo from listening.

It was a faint, low sound, like the turning of a page; it was brief, lasting only a second, something too small to be noticed; but Gojo noticed, Gojo realized that something had happened, and when he sat back down on the bed and looked at Geto's desk, he saw it.

A small, white card rested gently on the wooden surface. It was thin, almost invisible from Gojo's point of view, but those dark letters, that black that adorned the card left no room for doubt: Geto had just received his card.

Gojo leaned forward, looking closely at the initials and numbers written on the card.

There was silence.

A dark silence took over Geto's room, leaning into every corner, refusing to leave through the door that Geto had left open. The shadows in the room seemed thicker at that moment, gaining a bit of dimension when seen from the corner of Gojo's eye; it seemed like they were watching him, trying to keep Gojo's actions in their dark corners, silently judging everything Gojo did, everything he thought.

But Gojo continued to look at the card, memorizing the initials and numbers, repeating them in his mind over and over again. Until he heard Geto's voice approaching the room and he let the shadows keep the secret he had just made.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━❀━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Geto was at the bus stop patiently waiting. Letting the sun warm him through the bus stop window, Geto faced the road with a smile on his lips.

Seeing students and teachers walking up and down the street, hearing the happy birdsong and feeling the cool breeze of the day on his face, Geto couldn't be happier at that moment. That day, it seemed as if the whole world had gained a new color, a new meaning, as if all the stars that made up the universe had arranged themselves especially to link Geto's path.

He was certain that in that day nothing would destroy his enthusiasm. Not when he held tightly to a small white card and waited patiently for a bus to arrive, for you to arrive.

It had been mere minutes since Geto arrived at the stop to see your bus arriving punctually at your building. Keeping all the enthusiasm he was feeling in a small box inside his heart, Geto approached you when you got off the platform, ready for another day of classes.

“Good morning!”

“Oh, good morning, Geto,” your smile painted constellations, illuminating the entire universe with a simple curve of affection and delicacy. “Were you waiting for me?”

“Eighty-three million, two hundred and twenty thousand, six hundred and seventy-four point one hundred and ninety-three.”

You stopped walking and looked seriously at your classmate. Confused by why those numbers were recited so passionately, you waited for Geto to continue his reasoning. Looking closely at Geto, you couldn't help but let out a small smile; there was something about his childish enthusiasm, his cosmic joy that made you feel at least the slightest bit comfortable.

“It’s your number, isn’t it?”

“And how do you know my number?” your smile had taken on a playful tone, not realizing where that conversation would lead you, or why he was having it with you at that moment. As such, and as always, you just waited.

“Because they gave me that number yesterday.”

Geto handed you the small card he kept in his hand. Curious about his words, you looked at that white piece of paper, seeing your number and initials in dark tones.

Y/N 83220674,193

You remained silent for a moment while you assimilated all that information.

In reality, you hadn't received your card yet, but you didn't care. In so many years of life, you have never had the need to get together with someone, to let the gods guide your destiny with a mere card; but that didn't mean you weren't expecting it. You were never a romantic by nature, avoiding cliché films and closing the books when the couple began to express their eternal love for each other; but that didn't mean you didn't want that magic for yourself.

The reality is that throughout your life you have had to worry about something more than the triviality that was love. From friendships to school, your entire life was made up of obstacles that prevented you from delving into the complex webs of romantic relationships that could have been.

But there it was. A card. Your number. Your initials. There was no denying it – Geto’s soulmate was you.

Still trapped in those complex numbers and the beautiful initials carved into the white of the card, your mind began to wander to a future that could exist, leaving you speechless, completely surrendered to the surprise of the event.

“You seem excited about that idea,” not knowing how to respond, not knowing how to act after that revelation, you tried to focus your attention on Geto, starting to walk into the building with your colleague always by your side.

“Just happy for the confirmation.”

“Confirmation?” You looked at Geto confused and he just smiled before opening the door to the building for you.

“I always knew it was you.”

You gave a small laugh that gently echoed through the interior of the building. “What made you so sure?”

“That’s what I felt.” Geto let a sigh escape him, his lips expanding more and more into the victorious smile he wore. “Since the first day I saw you.”

You looked curiously at Geto as you climbed the stairs to the second floor.

“I can't explain it to you, but from the first day I saw you, I felt something inside me change. It's hard to explain, but it's as if the forces of the universe were pulling me towards you. Many times, without meaning to, I was already looking at you and wondering how I could talk to you.”

Geto's words traveled seamlessly to your ears, collecting all the celestial magic they could grab along the way. Geto's confession appeared wrapped in the stardust of the sky that sheltered you, leaving you to smile shyly at your colleague's frankness.

Would it be true? All the words Geto said seemed too whimsical to be real, his honesty appearing like a small butterfly on warmer days, flapping its wings and simplicity with the lightness of someone who didn't care about what he said.

“Very well,” you said finally, opening the door to the classroom and giving Geto space to enter. “And what do you intend to do with this new information?”

“For starters,” smiled Geto, leaning against one of the desks, the one where you always sat, and putting his hands in his pants pockets, “I’m going to ask you out on a date.”

“What if I say no?”

You sat in your seat, placing your backpack on the table and looking at Geto with amusement.

“I will invite you until you say yes.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━❀━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You wouldn't go as far as to say you were in love, but the truth was you felt something.

You would never think that agreeing to go out with Geto would bring you the avalanche of feelings that you started to feel. There was something about him. Something that moved you, that managed to reach your core and comfort your heart as if it were a blanket. You couldn't explain what it was, you couldn't explain what it was like, you just felt it. And it was something so unique and unusual that it consumed you every time you were with Geto.

Since the day you agreed to go out with him, your whole world seemed to have changed.

“Explain something to me,” Geto stretched as he sat in the chair. Leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand, he stared at you, eyes so bright and passionate that he made you feel important.

“What?”

“What do I need to do so I can be yours?”

You choked on the water. The words that Geto said hadn't crossed your mind, taking you by surprise.

You coughed once, twice, three times, placed the glass of water on the table and looked at Geto, your eyes still shining with the tears that had formed seconds ago.

“What?”

“I just want to know,” his smile was infectious. Whenever Geto looked at you, he smiled, a smile that spread across his face and made him more beautiful, more brilliant, as if that curve of his lips were the only detail about him. “We have already gone on several dates. We already know each other well. What is missing?"

You stared at Geto.

In fact, you felt something every time you were with Geto, your heart growing warmer with each moment shared with him. But that something was indescribable, you couldn't understand the nature of that something. What was it? How had it come about? Why did it torment you so much every time you were with Geto?

Yes. You could ignore it. Just take yourself in the comfort of that feeling, and allow yourself to enjoy a little of the tranquility that that feeling offered you. But there was something about that feeling, there was something that made you feel nervous. Maybe it was because you were happy and it had been years since you last felt so carefree and light; maybe it was because you couldn't explain what you felt, the lack of words and descriptions leaving you delirious. You didn't know exactly what it was. You just knew you weren't ready.

“I'm waiting,” you let out a small smile, looking at the water in the glass and thinking deeply about that something attacking your heart. What was that?

“For a formal request?” Geto let out a small laugh, so beautiful and melodious that it made the authenticity of your smile change tones, the small line becoming more real with that laugh. “I can kneel here right now and ask you to be yours.”

“No,” now it was you who laughed, holding Geto's hands when he made a move to get up. “Don’t you dare!”

“So what do you want? Tell me and I’ll give you anything.”

“My card.”

You whispered your confession a little nervously, letting your voice get lost in the university bar.

Geto looked at you, the smile that beautified him so much gently fading as he thought and repeated your words in his mind. Your card. Your card? Why were you waiting for something you already knew? What did you want to find in your white piece? Why was confirming a number so important to you? Didn't you feel your connection? Didn't you feel how your souls were interconnected for generations and eras, your essence existing on the same star before inhabiting the human bodies that held you back from expressing your true love?

“Why?”

Geto's voice had changed tone. Before playful, sprinkled with passion and affection, it was now serious, monotonous, without any feeling attached to the intonation of the syllables.

“Just…” you continued to stare at the glass of water, too embarrassed by your whim, thinking that your request was a betrayal for Geto. “I just want to be sure.”

Geto looked at you without showing any emotion. His bright eyes were now opaque, focused on your figure, studying your posture; his lips were in a straight line, too tense from the conversation to be able to express a mere smile.

Finally, he took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and putting his hands in his coat pockets.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll wait.”

Geto's words gently lifted your chin, finally looking at him, seeing a small, shy smile on his lips, filled with a small sadness, wrapped in understanding.

“Tell me your number.”

“Sixty-nine point zero, one, six, zero.”

“…six, zero,” Geto’s number was now saved on your cell phone. You were smiling, believing that that exchange of numbers could be the last drop to fill the glass of your doubts – it had to be him, you felt it.

Geto got up from his chair, smiling and offering you his hand.

You put your cell phone away and held Geto's hand, feeling his warm, thin fingers intertwine with yours, gently pulling you out of the bar and taking you through the city's flowery paths to your house.

Saying goodbye with a kiss on your forehead, Geto watched you enter your home, the smile he still wore being painted with love and complete devotion – how he loved you.

You sighed when you entered the house. You were tired. Classes were becoming increasingly demanding and, with the semester almost over, the pressure only increased.

You placed your hands on your shoulders and pressed down hard as you walked to your room. Your back was burning, a fog of anxiety was clouding your mind, your feet were asking for a moment of rest.

You threw yourself onto the bed, leaving your backpack at the bedroom door. You were exhausted, you couldn't even open your eyes. Ready to get some sleep before studying, you took your cell phone out of your pants pocket and placed it on the bedside table next to the white card.

The white card.

As if pinching you with electricity, the card woke you up to reality. You quickly sat down on the bed, holding that piece of paper in your hands. Finally the confirmation, finally the key to your happiness.

S.G.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━❀━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You abruptly pulled Gojo into an empty room. After closing the door with some force, you faced your friend who looked at you confused and a little worried.

“What…”

“You should have told me.”

You cut Gojo's words without any difficulty, throwing your card at Gojo, he fumbling to catch the lightness of the paper.

You were upset, completely furious. Your heart pounded with the knowledge of that betrayal, forcing you to look at Gojo with angry eyes and trembling lips.

“What happe…”

“Look at the card,” you didn’t want to shout at Gojo, it wasn’t in your nature to speak loudly to other people, but at that moment, totally consumed by all the emotions that arose in your heart, you couldn’t control your tone of voice, your words coming out louder than intended. “Look at the card and explain to me why you didn’t tell me!”

Gojo's blue eyes looked at you nervously, the glow that embellished them giving them a fear that was completely unknown to him. It took a while. He was still assimilating your words, repeating them in his head, trying to understand what you specifically meant. But, when all the dots connected, when your anger became justifiable and the card essential, Gojo quickly looked at the card, letting out a small curse when he saw the initials and numbers that adorned the white piece of paper.

S.G. 2430.1872

“I can explain…”

“I don't believe it. It is really you! You switched the cards!”

You let out a fake laugh, turning your body to face the door in an attempt to calm down. After taking a deep breath once, twice, three times, you looked back at Gojo, who now had a look of determination that didn't match your conversation.

“He loves you.”

“He’s not my soulmate,” you couldn’t explain, but your eyes started to water. Anger? Despair? Betrayal? What emotion did you seek from the turbulent sea that shook your heart to make you want to cry?

“That doesn’t invalidate the fact that he loves you.”

You shook your head, your lips forming a fake, angry smile, painted with the turmoil that existed in your heart. “You know perfectly well it does.”

“Listen,” Gojo approached you, the card held in one of his hands, his sunglasses almost falling off his head. “You like him. It's noticeable! The way you look at him, the way you shine when you're with him. You…"

“No!” you shouted without realizing it, snatching the card from Gojo's hand and waving it in front of his eyes. “You are my soulmate. It's you I have to stay with. You are the one I have to love.”

“No. No! No!” now Gojo was also shouting, desperate to make himself heard, wanting to explain himself at all costs. “You don’t have to keep yours…”

“You know perfectly well what happens to those who don’t stay with their soulmate.” Sadness. Hurt. Suffering. Grief. Years of pure despair. Years of nothing but anguish. “Do you really want him to be like that? Consumed by the negativity of the universe?”

“How,” Gojo laughed, a little insane with your argument, taking his hands to his head and taking off the glasses that made him feel weird. “How is he going to be unhappy if he has loved you since the first day you met?”

“Feelings come and go,” your tone returned to normal, your gaze now trapping Gojo in a box with no escape, your conversation turning from despair to frustration. “He wouldn’t be happy with me.”

Gojo looked at you furious with your deaf ears. You looked at Gojo irritated by his empty words.

The door opened.

Geto entered.

“I heard screams… Is everything okay?”

Geto's eyes jumped from you to Gojo. He was confused, he didn't understand why you were alone in an empty room screaming. On the other side of the door, Geto hadn't been able to understand the nature of your argument, but now looking at you, he knew it was something serious.

“Tell him.” Your eyes finally got tired, the first tear sliding easily down your face, taking with it a bit of the sadness of reality. “Tell him, Gojo.”

“Tell me what?”

Now Geto started to get nervous. What had happened between the two of you to create such a tense atmosphere? How did the two of you, the ones who were always joking with each other, the ones who knew nothing more than laughter and smiles, how did the two of you end up screaming and crying?

“Tell him how I will never be happy with him because I am destined to love you.”

ㅤㅤ‧₊˚ feedback is appreciated ♡

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bellarkeselection · 4 months

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Ride on Rodeo Girl

Anonymous ask - hi I love your work and was wondering if you could write a Cole Walter X reader where the first time they met was at the rodeo and the reader was competing in it

- very short request in my opinion and I am sorry. Hope you enjoy

My father was getting me signed in to compete in the competition, giving me the chance to walk around during the time before it was my turn to saddle my horse. Walking through the crowds of people I saw there was a cider stand and I was revealed since I needed a drink for now. "Hey how much for a cup of cider?"

"Woah now. You really must be into the rodeo spirit in that getup." A guy my age came over with messy blonde hair and green eyes. A smirk tugging on his lips with his reply.

I snorted at his remark. "Well considering I am competing I am required to wear this."

"Oh, sorry, I didn’t think that. My brother is competing today, too." He said, dropping his smirk and taking in my outfit better. I had light brown boots with spurs on them. Paired with some dark blue jeans and a tan flannel shirt tucked in. I finally had a tan cowgirl hat on my head to go with the whole outfit.

Hooking my fingers in the loop of my jeans I said back. "It's okay. Sometimes it's hard to know who is competing at these things. So how much do I owe for that drink?"

"It's on the house since you're competing today, rodeo girl." He offered with a smile.

I shake my head, taking the cup from his hands sipping on it slowly. I have to admit whatever they do to make this it's really good. "Thankd for this...uh I didn’t get your name."

"Cole, Cole Walter. My brother Alex is the one riding today." He introduced himself, leaning his elbows on the wooden countertop.

Extending my hand out to him with my other holding the drink cup. "Y/n, it's nice to meet you Cole."

"Hey would you want to get something to eat with me afterwards if you're free?" Cole asked showing me a cheeky grin and I dropped my gaze feeling my face turn red a little. He was awful cute if I had to admit to myself.

I wasn’t sure what to say to his offer of going out to dinner with him. My father was strict that I didn’t have time for guys given the career I had chosen to go down. My mother had to stay back home in my hometown to watch my younger siblings and take care of the bills that we had with me winning most horse riding competitions. “I guess I can. I’ll just have to let my dad know since we have to be in another state to compete in a few days.”

“No problem. I’ll give you my number and you just let me know if you can make it or not.” He writes down his number on a napkin handing it to me.

Someone called my name showing me it was my father coming over to us. “Y/n, there you are. We have to go. You’re the next rider up.”

“Okay, dad. I’ll maybe see you later Cole.” Turning my attention back to his green eyes I slipped the paper in my pocket waving bye to him and going to meet up with my father. “Thanks for the free cider too.”

Cole smirked watching her leave with her father walking beside her as he called out to her. “I’ll see you around Y/n. Ride on rodeo girl.” He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him but he wanted to know more about her. He wanted to watch her compete and he wanted to see her again…maybe just maybe have a relationship with her. He just hoped the universe would allow that to happen.

Comments really appreciated ❤️ Tag list- send me an ask to be added @cognacdelights @connieisthesun @bbabycass

#cole walter x reader #cole walter #cole walter imagine #my life with the walter boys #mlwtwb #first meeting #rodeo #horses #horse rodeo #noah lalonde #ask box is open for anything #requests open #comments really appreciated #netflix #rodeo girl

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vermithorn · 1 year

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* WANTED U

pairing: aegon ii targaryen x fem!stark!reader

summary: aegon misbehaving, you’re done with him... or are you?

contains: angst, name calling, drinking, aegon being shitty, toxic relationship, reader being mean too hehe, sub/dom undertones.

author’s note: hello! this is a mix between two requests i got, the first one was “reader first discovering the soft subby side of aegon” ,,, i took some liberties with this one,,, and the other one was “the reader giving aegon the silence treatment” so yknow what your aegon lover had to do…, ! pls enjoy and remember english isn't my first language ! <; 3

aegon woke up with the worst hangover of his 20 years of life.

his name-day celebrations were last night, and he drank everything until he forgot everyone.

king viserys was very ill to attend the celebrations, so he made sure this one was the very best for his firstborn son.

aegon stirred in his bed, it was too big for him but the number of women he could keep there was high, so he was happy with it. it was probably past midday and no one bothered to wake up aegon, maybe his mother came to her senses and let him sleep more after his nameday.

he remembered a few things, finishing the day with queen alicent screaming at him for some reason he couldn’t remember correctly. meh, he brushed it off, his mother always reprimanded him for little things so he was used to it.

he called servant to get himself cleaned and dressed, the servant stuttered that it was not past midday and he was required to go and have lunch with his family as soon as possible.

on his way to eat, he tried to piece together his memories from last night. everything looked like a blur, he remembered clearly when he started drinking on the main table and then the memories faded away, they came back to his mother screaming and dragging him to his chambers with ser criston cole carrying him on his shoulder.

he stepped on the room and everyone who were chatting happily went quiet, damn, he sighed as he made his way to his seat next to his betrothed, you.

he tried to greet you but you gave him the cold shoulder causing him to frown, you continued eating your meal in silence occasionally chatting with helaena who was sitting next to you.

okay, that behavior from you wasn't that weird, but usually you were polite and even friendly with him. he couldn't recall why you were acting like that.

“nice for you to finally join us, brother.” aegon rolled his eyes as he smiled sarcastically at his younger brother.

“only my baby brother missed me, apparently my betrothed can't relate too much.” you turned around slowly to glare at him, you scoffed as you stood up.

“excuse me, i have some matters to attend right now, thank you for the meal.” you said and left without looking back, he groaned, it was too early for all of this.

queen alicent was staring angrily at him, “why can't you be a good man for once? don't you think it was enough of your words yesterday?”

“enlighten me, mother?”

as queen alicent listed things, one by one, aegon started slowly to remember last night, pin pointing exactly what happened with you.

it was probably his four cup of rum, his favorite. you were sitting by his side as you drank from your little cup, he tried to persuade you to get a cup as big as his but you shook your head, saying how your glass was perfectly fine.

he rolled his eyes as he ordered someone to get him more alcohol, he saw you make a face as his request and decided to confront you. “do you have a problem, love?”

“no, my prince,” you brushed it off sipping from your cup, he frowned and looked away.

a few moments later he decided he wanted to dance, so everyone had to indulge him and dance with him. he swayed around between maidens and ladies of the court who were totally obligated to yield to him as you watched from afar.

it was getting late, and aegon got drunker than ever, it was his nameday after all and he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. you watched everything unfold from your seat at the main table.

he started getting handsy with a girl, and she was getting handsy too in return, also as drunk as your betrothed. you stared at him, considering carefully your options, you decided that you had enough and walked towards him quickly.

you grabbed his shoulder, separating him from the girl, “my prince, it's time to leave.” he looked absolutely wasted, staring at you with anger in his eyes.

“leave me alone.” he stated, turning around to return to his endeavors.

you scowled at him defiantly, “no, you heard me, prince aegon.”

“who the fuck do you think you are?” he fully turned towards you, towering you bitterly hostile.

“your betrothed.”

“of course, you love to remind me that every fucking day,” the girl left scared, you stood there unamused. “you're nothing to me more than a cunt to eat when i'm bored and a thing to bear my heirs, please remember that when trying to get me to do something, now get the fuck out of my sight.”

the next thing he knew, he was being carried to his chambers by ser criston cole. his mother screaming things at him, about how he could never treat you like that again, to think about their relationship with the north depended on your marriage with him and how they could not afford that at all.

his head hit the pillows on the bed and he was dead sleep.

oh, oh. it all came back like a punch in the face.

“now you remember, brother?” aemond smirked at him, “i can't believe lady stark didn't hit you in the face right there, i admire her composure.”

he excused himself to his chambers, without touching his food at all. he locked himself there, without caring about the preoccupied knocks from his sister and mocks from his brother. he felt guilty, he didn't thought about you like that at all, you were kind and friendly with him, even when he was annoying and borderline disturbing.

he was in a weird state of mind, queen alicent berating him in any way she could, his grandfather the hand of the king, being the same or maybe worst than his mother. he wasn't good enough for anyone, everyone wanted more of him than he could give.

his name-day was for him, to get drunk and forget everything for a good solid minute, but apparently that wasn't possible.

you didn't deserve that treatment, you were only trying to take care of him and he treated you like trash. you deserved better than a drunk like him.

he waited a few hours to head down to your designated chambers, knocking on your door softly.

“wait!” you rushed to the door, expecting everyone except prince aegon, your face falling at the sight of him leaning on your doorframe. “prince aegon, what do you need?” you said politely, but with a stoic face.

“i wanted to talk with you,” shit, this was harder than he thought. “i actually wanted to apologize.” you sighed as you moved to the side to let him into your chambers, closing the door behind you.

he sat carefully into your bed, making himself comfortable under your rigid gaze. he looked at you with caution, afraid you'll run away from him like the others, like his family always did.

“first, i want to say that i am sorry for my behavior last night, you were only trying to take care of me and i was distasteful to say the least.” you nodded, encouraging him to continue. “second, i wanted you to now that i do not think that, i mean, about what i said last night.”

“about how i am nothing to you? or the cunt and womb part of your little pathetic speech?” he winced, looking away from your stoic face.

he expected to you to break, shed some tears, sob, anything. but you stood there, with your arms crossed and that unbreakable aura you always had, that typical northmen thing common-folk talked about sometimes.

“i do not care, prince aegon,” he looked back at you, your eyes hard on him, “we are to get married, this is not a love bond, this is a political alliance between our houses.”

“then why you were trying to get me to leave yesterday if you don't care?” he quickly counter asked, regretting it instantly by the way you stared down at him.

“maybe i don't want people in the court talking how my betrothed is fucking other girls in front of me.” you said exposing your possessive tone, he shivered.

“you do care, then.” you took a step towards him, towering him like he did the night before.

“what if i care, you made sure to let me know what you think of me yesterday,” you spat, “to me you're nothing more than a pathetic drunk whore.”

his eyes watered at how could you think so little of him, feeling hypocritical of his own thoughts. you grabbed his jaw to make him look at you, “so if you want this relationship to work, you need to start respecting me, or i'll go home and come back with the whole north behind my back.”

he nodded the best he could with your grip on his jaw, sobbing slightly. you tilted your head, cleaning a few tears that went down his face with your other hand.

“i am sorry, l-love,” he stuttered, “i know you don't care about my apology but i am sorry.” you nodded, your features softening at the sight of the prince sobbing on your hand, you loosened your grip on his jaw and placed your hand on the side of his face.

“why are you crying, my prince?” he exhaled, closing his eyes while leaning on your hand.

“i don't want to be like this anymore,” he opened his eyes slowly to see you looking down at him, eyes soft. “all my life my mother has put her life goals on me, i don't want to be what she wants me to be, she never lets me be my own person so i always do this, to get her attention sometimes, maybe even my father could-”

you interrupted him, “okay, i think i get it now.”

you looked at him, his face soft against your hand, he was slightly hiccuping and it was the first time he shared his personal thoughts with you. the pieces of his behavior were slowly connecting in your head, he just wanted to be reassured, he wanted to be good enough for his family.

you couldn't excuse his behavior, but you started to get it. he was soon to become your husband, so you decided you'll do your very best to get him in the right path.

“you could start talking to me, normally.” you stated, he nodded quickly.

“i like being choked and praised,” you raised your eyebrows. “that is not normal enough?”

it was okay, it was a start, you decided to indulge him, “what else, my prince?” you said caressing his face.

“i usually require to be told i am a good boy.” he nodded enthusiastically.

your grip on his jaw hardened, he gasped, “are you, though? i'll need you in your very best behavior for me.”

his eyes lit up, “i'll do my best for you, love.”

#aegonii #tvrgvryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x female reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #got #game of thrones #aegon targaryen smut #haelena targaryen #aemond targaryen

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justtwotired · 5 months

Text

Whispers of the night - Lloyd Garmadon x reader

Part 1

part 2

part 3

Lloyd POV:

I walked into the monastery and found the others in the living room watching tv.

“Where have you been?” Kai asked lazily and I shrugged.

“Hanging out with a friend,” I said and they all looked at me.

“You have other friends?” Jay asked and I frowned a bit offended.

“Yes, yes I do.” I said, it was true, I did have a few other friends from school outside of my family, but I don’t think they’d see Y/n as someone who falls under the term of ‘friend’.

“With who?” Cole asked, trying to make sure an argument wouldn’t start. I sighed and turned my back to them, putting my stuff on the table. “Y/n,” I mumbled.

“Who!?” Kai shot up, I’m pretty sure he heard me, but just was not really wanting to hear it. “Y/n,” I repeated louder this time and turned to him. “Something wrong?” I asked challengingly.

“Oh come on, Lloyd! She’s a thief, she’s a bad influence!” He said and the others just laughed. “You’re just mad that we got beat into a race by a group of teens,” Nya accused and Kai scowled at her.

“Oh please, I could beat them any day! They just caught me of guard!” He said and turned to me. “What did you do with her? Steal some lunch or something?” He asked sceptically.

I shook my head a bit annoyed. “No! We just hung out, and she was really nice and funny!” I told them. “And yes we grabbed lunch, and she payed, for all of it, leaving a tip and everything!”

“It is pretty weird behaviour to steal from a store, but being generous like that at the same time.” Zane said.

“Honestly, I think she just does it for the kicks.” I said and they all looked at me. “The kicks? She wants to get kicked?” Zane raised a brow.

“What? No- it’s like, they do it for the thrill, for fun. But like at places like Harvey’s who don’t suffer from much loss,” I explained.

“I thought she was just poor or something,” Jay said and I shook my head. “Believe me, she is not, I walked her home, and I’m telling you, she is rich rich.”

“Ohh, got yourself a rich date?” Nya winked. “You think she’s into girls?” She joked, making the others laugh and Jay let out an offended noice.

“I still don’t trust her,” Kai said and I groaned. “Kai! You’re the one that got me her number in the first place!”

“I didn’t know she was a thief!” He argued. I just sighed and remained silent, not wanting to get into an argument.

Your POV:

I hummed to myself, sitting on a building in the middle of the city, watching it slowly die down. I loved to watch Ninjago city at night, there was darkness but lights everywhere, mostly at Borg tower of course.

I looked at the time, almost two in the morning. I had school the next day, yeah, definitely sleeping trough maths.

I had an oversized hoody on -which I may or may not have stolen from James- and hid inside it. It was cold out. I had my earbuds in and my phone rested in my pockets.

Maybe I should go back, I did not feel like getting a cold or anything, if there’s something I hate, it’s a stuffed nose.

I looked up to watch the stars, instead, all I saw where clouds and a big raindrop landed on my forehead, followed by tons of others.

Definitely my sign to go.

I looked down from where I sat. I could jump this, easy. Pushing myself of the roof, I felt the wind travel trough my hair before I landed on my feet.

I tried walking fast as it started raining harder and harder.

To invested into getting home before everything was soaked -spoiler alert, it already was- I didn’t notice the puddle of water mixed with mud and stepped right in, slipping and falling backwards with a yelp.

I expected to hit the ground, but I didn’t. Someone had caught me and then steadied me to my feet.

“Look at that, seems like we meet again.” I turned around and found myself staring at the green ninja, flabbergasted and flustered by his quick appearance, I couldn’t help but blush.

“Where you following me?” I suddenly realised and he laughed. “I saw a potential thief, don’t blame me,” he joked and I gave him a look. “Kidding, I saw you and then you fell, you’re lucky I’m quick.” He winked and I rolled my eyes.

“My hero,” I said sarcastically. “What are you doing out here anyway? It’s night and it’s raining cats and dogs.” He asked sceptically and I shrugged.

“Didn’t check the weather before leaving home,” I admitted and he shook his head. “You need to try staying out of trouble, sweetheart,” he said and I swallowed thickly at the nickname.

I was about to answer but sneezed in stead. “Bless you,” he said before giving me a cocky look. “Well, I suppose you’re already blessed when you look like that,” he said and I was about to retort but shut my mouth, just unnabe to form words.

“Look, this is all fun and stuff, but I need to head home, I’m tired and probably going to catch a cold,” I said and he nodded before thinking for a moment.

“My bike isn’t far from here, want a ride?” He asked and I hesitated. “I don’t want to be a bother, you probably have stuff to do.” I said and he let out a low chuckle.

“No worries princess, not much to do tonight, except for saving pretty girls from falling over.” He winked and I sighed. “Fine, but straight to my house, no funny business, greenie,” I pointed at him and he smirked.

“Whatever you say, ma’am,” he said and I shook my head in disbelief.

My mouth fell open slightly at the sight of his bike. It was beautiful- sure, I’ve seen it on tv, or in the news paper a few times, but in real life it was way cooler.

“Here,” he handed me his helmet and I pulled my hands back. “What- but there’s only one helmet,” I protested. “Just take the helmet, I’ll be fine.” He assured.

“Are you sure, I mean I can-” He cut me off with an exasperated sigh. “Y/n!” He said sternly.

Seeing there was probably no point in arguing I just took it. He then got onto the vehicle and helped me climb on aswel.

“Where to?” He asked and I told him my street name. “Ohh, rich girl,” he said jokingly. “Better hold on tight,” he said and it took me a second to built up the confidence to wrap my arms around his waist.

He sped off, and honestly it was amazing. James had a bike, and I take passenger rides all the time, but this, this was different, it was incredibly fast and The Green Ninja managed to make his way trough the streets without any issues.

He went slower at my street and a few houses down I told him to stop. It had stopped raining when I got off and took of the helmet.

“Thank you,” I said with a smile and he took the helmet back from me. “Not a problem,” he winked once again. “You live here?” He looked behind me at the house with slight confusion, I didn’t really get why.

“Uh, no, a few houses down, but I snuck out, and your vehicle is rather loud, my mother will personally murder me,” I said and he laughed a bit.

“Oh, you’re a rebel aren’t you?” He teased and I just breathed out a laugh. “Aren’t you funny,” I said sarcastically.

He was about to say something but stopped, I heard vague talking of someone and realised he must be wearing an earpiece or something.

“Yes- alright, alright I get it, I’m going,” he said a bit irritated. “It’s not to much of a deal, not like there was much going on anyway.” He said.

He looked back at me and smiled. “That’s my sign to go. You should head inside and take a shower,” he said and I nodded.

“See you, princess,” he said before speeding off again.

I proceeded to sneak into our backyard, this way I could get into the kitchen and sneak upstairs.

I peeked trough the window. It was dark, no one was inside. I snuck trough the window I left open for myself and then upstairs where I took of my clothes and hung them to dry.

After taking a quick shower and laid in bed. The next day was going to be hell.

I was completely and utterly right, I got detention for sleeping in maths class, which got my friends laughing it me during lunch, I bought a coffee in the school cafeteria and I forgot that I was holding it so it went cold, and look at that, Miss Malcam was sick so we had a substitute… no one likes that substitute, she’s horrible and always has it out for me specifically.

Oh, not to forget, I was sneezing, causing and wheezing, the whole enchilada. My nose was stuffed and I felt like I couldn’t breath, I basically looked like shit.

And of course, it can always become even worse.

As I was looking for my next class -I forgot, alright, don’t blame me, blame the constantly changing schedule- I bumped into someone and fell.

I was caught, though my phone wasn’t as lucky. “Oh, I am so sorry!” I said and then bend to pick up my phone, then looking at the person in front of me.

“Falling for me, are we?” I locked eyes with Lloyd and I swear to god, I wanted the earth to swallow me whole.

I. Looked. Terrible.

“Lloyd!” I said surprised and embarrassed. “I uh, I thought you said you graduated last year.” I stuttered nervously.

“I did yes, but Kai teaches the self defence class here and he can’t make it so sent me instead,” he explained and I just nodded absently.

“I see,” I sniffed, making it feel like my eyes are going to pop out of my scull.

“Are you alright? You look sick,” I said concerned and I shrugged. “I’m fine, I was out in the rain yesterday, just a cold.” I waved it of and inspected my phone for damage, but it was fine.

I glanced at the time and scowled. “I’m sorry, Lloyd, but I really need to get to my class,” I said and he smiled slightly.

“It’s fine, I’ll catch you later?” He gave me a crooked grin that made my knees weak. “Yes, I’ll see you!” I waved before quickly walking off.

I want to die of embarrassment.

I sat next to Amelia in Science and she grinned at me. “You still look like shit,” she said and I glared at her. “Your face did gain some colour though, something happen?” She wiggled her eyebrows and I sighed.

I told her the story and all she could do was laugh at me. “Honestly N/n, you’re the most badass, fearless person I know, and there you are, nervous because of some boy,” she said and I hit her shoulder, making her laugh even harder.

When the lesson was over, we met with Luna and made our way to our very last class of the day.

“Where’s Flora?” Amelia asked Luna who had been in the same lesson as her. “She’s gone to some of her other ‘friends’. Said she’d meet us there.” Luna said and I sighed.

“Give it a break, Lu, I know you don’t like them, but we tolerate them for Flors, alright?” I gave her a look and she sighed.

“Yeah, I know, but I can’t handle Flora not being able to see how fake they are with her,” Luna sighed as we turned a corner.

“We have a while, want to head into the restroom and freshen up a bit?” Amelia changed the topic, looking at me especially. “Obviously,” I said and they laughed.

In the bathroom I took my hair out of the way to messy bun it was in, which took a while as the damned elastic got stuck in the hair I did not brush that morning.

I barely had time to get ready that morning, I just put on my clothes and threw my make up and jewellery in my bag to put on at school… I never did.

Millie brushed my hair for me while I put on some mascara and eyeliner, not being much of a ‘full face make up’ person.

Not only because I didn’t have the time, but also because I did not know how to do it -I swear those girls on TikTok are literal magic- and I didn’t take the time to learn.

“See, that’s better… still quite sick though,” Luna commented. It was true, I had puffy eyes and sniffed every now and then. My voice was a bit hoarse and I looked exhausted, but it was way better then before.

“Alright, what do we have?” We looked at Amelia who always was the one that knew where we had to go.

“We have self defence class,” she said and Luna and I shared a look. “Self defence class?” I asked sceptically.

“Yeah, school decided that with the crime going on, not only first years needed self defence class but all the others do too.” She sighed a bit annoyed.

“Meh, it’s fine, not like self defence is that hard.” I waved it off as we excited the bathroom.

“Well, we aren’t all being trained since we where little- which reminds me, can’t you just illusion yourself some make-up?” Amelia interrupted herself.

“I could, yes, but I’m not risking it faltering in front of other people, I’d be the talk of the school and I’d rather not,” I said with a small chuckle.

As we entered the small gym in the school, we searched for Flora.

When I saw her, my fists balled and I quickly stormed over, followed by the other two.

“Hey!” I called out and the boy with his arm around a rather uncomfortable Flora’s waist looked up. “Leave her alone,” I said with venom in my voice.

He smirked at me. “What? Jealous?” He asked and winked, making me narrow my eyes. “Be for real, she is clearly uncomfortable and has a boyfriend, leave her alone or I will knock your teeth out.” I threatened with a harsh glare.

He took his arm off her and took a few paces towards me. “What is your problem?” He hissed and I rolled my eyes.

“My problem is you being a fucking asshole, leave her alone and I might just let you off with a warning.” I said and he huffed a laugh.

“What are you going to do? Throw your nail clippers at me?” He asked and a few others laughed as we now had some on lookers.

“N/n, it’s fine, really” Flora started but I cut her off. “No, don’t even start that, love, I’ll handle this arse for you,” I said and turned back to the guy.

“If you are so cool and strong like you want people to think, then I’ll see you outside after school if you are man enough to fight me,” I challenged and I heard Luna sigh behind me.

“Aand, there she goes, oh we’re going to have to explain to Jamie,” she sighed and I gave her a quick glare.

“You fight me? You’re a girl, I’ll have you down in seconds, if you challenge me I am not afraid to hit you, what will you do when I have you begging for forgiveness on the ground?” he said and I narrowed my eyes.

“If you are going to act like that, I can arrange to pull your bones from your body now instead of later, in fact-” but I was interrupted by someone standing between us.

“Hey, Hey, let’s not do that in this class,” I looked at Lloyd who had intervened. I completely forgot he said he was teaching self defence for Kai.

“This lesson is about to start, why don’t you both sit down?” He suggested and with last glared at each other, we turned away.

“Y/n! Seriously?” Luna asked in disbelief. “What? I can handle him,” I waved her off and she groaned.

“Yes, I know, I’m not concerned about that, I am concerned about the fact that James is going to be so mad, plus, you’re parents are going to ground you for like- forever, again!” She said and I waved her off.

“It’s fine, as long as Flora is alright,” I looked at the girl who nodded. “I am, but you really didn’t have to do that.” She said and I shook my head.

“Nonsense, you’re one of us now, and in our group we protect each other.” I said and she gave me a teary smile.

That whole lesson, I normally would have glared holes into that guys -who I know is Jacob Brown- head, but instead, I was watching Lloyd catch us up on basic self defence, demonstrating a few things and explaining like a professional.

I heard giggling and looked behind me to see Amelia and Flora make hearts with their fingers making me scoff and stick out my tongue.

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starogeorgina · 11 months

Text

Children of the dragon

Warnings: Incest, violence

Pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen × Targ oc

1.09

Beads of sweat drip down your back as you try to push the cries of a mother mourning her babe that plagued your dreams into the back of your mind. Two days have passed since you arrived at Dragonstone—two long days without hearing anything from Aegon, leaving you mentally exhausted while the strain of your due date creeping up on you was physically draining, although you would never complain out loud given the circumstances.

After holding a funeral for her stillborn daughter Visenya, Rhaenyra was crowned queen with the same crown that belonged to your late father.

Guilt bubbles in your chest as you cradle your bump, feeling the smooth velvet material beneath your fingers. The dark purple dress was a gift for Rhaenyra, made to fit her during the last term of pregnancy, but as she would no longer need it and you came without any clothes, she insisted you wear it along with her other gowns made to fit a swollen stomach.

You hold your head high while stepping up to the carved table in the shape of Westeros, engraved with its major cities, castles, and landmarks. The painted table was surrounded by the black council, consisting of your uncle Daemon, Corlys Velaryon and his wife Princess Rhaenys, Rhaenyra’s two oldest sons, Ser Erryk Cargyll and Ser Lorent Marbrand. Even with smaller numbers during this meeting as the other lords and bannermen weren’t in attendance, you found it intimidating to talk in front of them; you felt judged for who your lover, husband, mother, and grandsire were. While some tried to think of a way to prevent your brother from being crowned, it was suggested by Jacaerys to focus on the aftermath instead. As it was unlikely there would be any way to stop the inevitable.

Your mouth runs dry as you step forward to counter what Daemon had just said: during his assessment of the biggest risks, he had put your mother's sworn protector far too low down on the list. “Ser Criston Cole is no fool uncle, and he will have no boundaries. He will not hesitate to shed blood first, and because of this, I don’t believe it will take long for him to become my brother's hand.”

“And you’re sure of this?” Lord Corlys asks, “Aemond will make Ser Criston the hand of the king if he is crowned?”

“My guess is Aemond will keep my grandsire as hand of the king for a week at the longest to please our mother, but he will grow frustrated with his strategizing and replace him with Cole. Both hands will be a threat equally, but attack differently.”

“In what way?” The fierceness in Rhaenyra’s voice was almost scary.

“My grandsire will find alliance in any enemy you have ever made, while Cole will look for another approach, a deadlier one.” You glance at your nephews, not wanting to continue in front of them. What you wanted to say next would most definitely scare them, and that was not your intention.

“Luke go check on your brothers, Rhaena, and Baela. They should be in the nursery and attending their lessons,” Rhaenyra says softly.

When your nephew is out of earshot, you say, “The main difference is the target.” Daemon slams his fists against the table, giving you a fright. Gulping, you nervously continue. “My grandsire will aim to take out the biggest threat first, which is our queen, Rhaenyra. He won’t feed into Aemond’s desire for revenge, but Cole will. Their goal will be to tear the blacks apart; I believe the first act of war will be on the children.”

A roar of outrage fills the room as Rhaenys and Corlys both argue against such a horrid suggestion. You understood; they had both lost their children and desperately wanted to keep their grandchildren safe. Rhaenyra stares ahead blankly, looking lost in thought; it probably never occurred to her that her former best friend's children would try to kill her own. Surprisingly, it’s Daemon who steps in to defend you, “the princess has some insight on which we do not; perhaps we best let her speak freely.”

You give him a curt nod, thanking him without actually saying the words. “There is a fishing village below the Dragonmont, with men coming and going at all hours. All it takes is one man to slip undetected for blood to start spilling.”

“Who do you think Aemond and Ser Criston will target first?” Jacaerys asks.

“My daughters, Alyssa and Alina, then Prince Lucery. Aemond still believes he is owed a debt for losing his eye.” The room falls silent as fear sets in. Hoping to lighten the mood slightly, you change the subject. “As of now, the Greens only have one dragon, Vhagar. Truthfully, I’m unsure where my brother Daeron’s loyalties will be, but both he and his dragon Tessarion are currently in Oldtown. Dreamfyre is no threat, as my sweet sister Helena would never-” You stop talking when the slight pain in your back and lower abdomen begins to intensify. Rhaenyra immediately rushes to your side, but you try to dismiss her as she calls for the maester. “I am a fine sister, truly.”

“You need to rest.”

“I will do no such thing; I cannot rest while you plan a war that I’m partly to blame for.”

“Leave us,” Rhaenyra says, addressing everyone in the room. When the room is empty, she takes your hand in hers and says, “I know how lonely life in the keep can be. I understand why you turned to Aegon for comfort.”

“It’s more than that, Rhaenyra. I feel as if the gods themselves are looking down on us and giving us their blessing when I’m with him. I’ve always loved him; Aegon is the other half of me.”

Rhaenyra wipes away the tears rolling down your cheeks. Softly, she says, “Then it couldn’t possibly be wrong, dear girl.”

“I just never thought the consequences of our actions would be so dire.”

“You are not to blame for this war,” Rhaenyra says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You feel a sense of motherly love coming from her that you never felt was given from your own. “The greens would have usurped me regardless; the only ones to blame are Otto and Alicent. I swear to you now that no harm will come to you, Aegon, or Helena. And I will protect your children as if they were my own.”

“Thank you,” you sniff. It had already been discussed many times what should happen when Aegon eventually arrives on Dragonstone, as he did steal his own sister's crown. However, Rhaenyra understood the difficult position he was forced into, and as long as he bent the knee to her, he would be welcome among the blacks.

“Perhaps it won’t come to war.”

The hopefulness in her voice made you smile slightly. “Aemond is just as spiteful as he is proud. He’s going to stop at nothing to try and sit on the iron throne, but luckily for the people of Westeros, that’s not going to happen. We already have our queen.”

—

Frustrated, you rub at your eyes, trying to fully wake yourself up. On Rhaenyra’s orders, you were to rest for the remainder of the day, which you grudgingly agreed to.

A handmaiden filled you a bath with the finest-smelling oils, leaving your hair and body feeling extremely soft to the touch. It was supposed to help expecting mothers relax. Afterwards, you tried to sleep but kept tossing and turning. Something was nagging at you, but you couldn’t place the feeling. Sighing, you fluff your pillow before resting your head against it, trying to sleep.

“Do you ever have other dreams?”

“Yes, I had a vision of our nephew Jace dying.”

“I definitely don't want Aeron interacting with bastards.”

“Your fight with the Velaryon boys is not mine, and it's definitely not my children's.”

Letting out a gasp, you leap forward when you suddenly feel as if you’re falling from a great height. Your eyes are fixated on the sky above, and you observe clouds gathering in the distance through the small window. I'm in the sky, surrounded by clouds. The sun is shining down on me, and then it disappears. Your own words echo in your mind, and then the realization dawns on you. An eye for an eye, a son for a son. You had it wrong all along; it was never Jace you saw in your dreams; it was Luke.

You grab the gray long coat that was hanging over the back of a chair, using it to keep yourself decent since you didn’t have time to change from the thin nightdress you wore. Swinging the door open so suddenly, the knight who was posted outside it asked, “Where is Prince Lucery?”

“He’s gone to Storm's End as an envoy for the queen.”

“On dragon's back?”

The knight looks slightly concerned by your questioning but nods.

You start to run down the hallway as fast as your heavy body will allow, ignoring the knight calling after you. “Let my sister know I had to leave at once and that the children are in danger!”

“Princess! Princess!”

—

Somehow you managed to make it to Dallax without being detected; the last thing you needed was someone stopping you from leaving. If you had tried to explain your dream to your sister and uncle, they would have thought of you as mad. You didn’t know if they believed that some Targaryens saw visions in their dreams or not, and you didn’t have time to find out.

You searched the sky, hoping to spot your nephew before he reached Storm's End, but you feared you might have been too late. You weren’t sure what your dream meant other than that you needed to find him quickly. As if the gods were answering your silent prayer, you hear wings flapping in the distance. Dallax flies in the direction of the noise, and you spot Arrax below.

As you descend towards Lucerys, he looks up and screams, “He’s coming!”

You’re confused by what he means until a dark shadow clouds over you. Vhagar. Aemond shouts a slur of commands and insults in High Valyrian, but with the wind ringing in your ears, it was hard to fully understand. He was chasing the young prince on a dragon that was three times larger than Arrax, which was just a baby dragon in comparison. It was sickening. Aemond only turns his attention away from the young boy when he notices you. Vhagar swiftly changes direction and comes straight for you, jaws still open.

“May the mother have mercy on us all.”

A loud roar rips through the air as Sunfyre swipes at the older and much larger dragon. You catch a glimpse of Aegon with Aeron strapped to his chest, and panic sets in. Your precious son was caught up in this, and you couldn’t bear to lose him.

You were so caught up staring at Aegon and your son that you almost didn’t notice Aemond charging at Luke through the air again.

“Aemond no!” You scream as you watch Vhagar’s jaws about to close around Arrax, “Dracarys!” Dallax breathes fire in the direction of Aemond, your brother… your husband. There's no going back now. You could not undo what had been done. “Lucerys, go!”

Before Vhagar has a chance to attack you in return, Sunfyre claws at her face, causing the dragon to let out a roar that was so loud you were sure the people in King's Landing would have heard it. You watch helplessly as the two dragons claw and bite at each other. “Aemond stop!” You beg, knowing which dragon would win if this continued, “Please just stop-ahh!”

You scream as shooting pains travel between your lower back and pelvis. Through tear-hazed eyes, you watch as a third dragon joins the fighting. Lucerys never left. Despite both riders' best efforts, neither of them were a match for Aemond and Vhagar, whose full attention was now on you.

“Dracarys!”

You’re unsure of what happens next as it happens so fast, but you cry out in anguish as Dallax crashes into the sea, while above, Vhagar bites down on Arrax before turning her attention to Sunfyre.

#house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen x you #Aegon ii Targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #children of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #Aegon Targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen x oc #aegon ii targaryen/oc #Aegon ii Targaryen x fem oc #Aegon ii x oc #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen x fem oc #Aegon Targaryen/oc #aegon targaryen x oc

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gwenllian-in-the-abbey · 3 months

Note

do you think if succession war between aegon II and rhaenyra never happened, would it have happened between jacaerys and aegon III?

would daemon really allow jace to be king because his daughter would be queen?

Hi eve! I could easily go off on so many tangents about Daemon and Aegon III and Jace, but I think the question has a pretty simple answer: yes, a war is inevitable if Rhaenyra or Jace inherits, and if not between Jace and Aegon III, then between Jace any one of the seven remaining trueborn male claimants.

First, I think Daemon's role in Jace's possible succession issues is overstated. Could he arrange three very convenient accidental deaths for the oldest boys to make sure that Aegon III is set up to inherit whether Daemon himself is alive to see it or not? Sure. But he also did not do this to any of Alicent's children, instead he waited to see if Rhaenyra and Aegon would fight. My gut feeling is that by the time Daemon is in his 50s, he just does not care enough. Will he feed Aegon III the idea that he should be the heir, that he has more Valyrian blood, he's trueborn, etc.? Likely. But I think Daemon would leave it up to Aegon III to fight for it, rather than conveniently clearing his way. That said, the fact remains that Daemon could drop dead the day after Rhaenyra took the throne, and there would still be people who would find it advantageous to align themselves with one of the trueborn claimants to the throne. Jace's problems do not begin or end with Daemon.

Keep in mind, this is the argument Criston Cole used to convince Aegon II to fight. It's often conflated in the fandom with "Rhaenyra will kill your family to secure her reign," but interestingly, Criston says that all of the king's trueborn sons have a better claim than Rhaenyra's "brood of bastards," that is, he frames the real threat as occurring when a bastard attempts to inherit ahead of trueborn sons, and although it's not relevant to Criston's point so he doesn't mention it, of course Aegon III and Viserys II are included in this number. Now, unlike most of the fandom, Criston frames this threat as coming from the bastards towards the trueborn sons, rather than the trueborn sons towards the bastards, which is convenient for convincing Aegon, but also happens to be a good point. Daemon and/or Aegon III don't have to have Jacaerys killed, they simply have to corroborate the story that Jace is a bastard, and press Aegon III as a claimant. At that point, Jace can either admit to being a bastard and step aside, or go to war. And it doesn't have to be Aegon III. If there is no Dance, there are still seven trueborn sons and grandsons of Viserys who can raise a legitimate challenge to Jace's claim (and disclaimers apply about bastardy being a construct, no one can prove it etc. etc., but once Rhaenyra, Corlys, and Viserys are dead, it becomes much more difficult for Jace to defend himself against those claims). And this is in essence why it was absolutely insane of Viserys to overlook this issue, but that's a different tangent.

That's the problem with a lot of the arguments that Alicent "lied," or poisoned her kids against Rhaenyra and her kids, that Rhaenyra never would have hurt her brothers, Daemon never would turn against Jace, that Aegon III loves his brother, or what have you. Rhaenyra, Daemon, Jace, and Aegon III do not even have to be the ones who personally initiate violence against their rivals, Rhaenyra, whose claim is already non-traditional, has built her line of succession on shaky grounds. At any time during Rhaenyra's reign, or after she dies, or during Jace's reign, or his son's reign, if the lords of the realm are unhappy for whatever reason, they have a perfect pretext to decide that Rhaenyra wasn't the true heir and/or Jace was a bastard all along (take your pick) and the line was illegitimate, and challenge him.

And unfortunately for poor Jace, regardless of whatever loyalties Aegon III might hold for his brother, Aegon II has two trueborn sons who have zero reason to have any affection or regard for cousin Jace. If Aegon II doesn't want to be king, can we be sure his sons don't? And likewise, even if Aegon III is loyal to Jace, can we be certain his sons will love their uncle and cousins as much as he does? Jace is not stupid and a lot can happen in a decade or two! This is why, even though it's also true that Otto and Alicent probably would have tried to put Aegon II on the throne regardless, Criston's argument that anyone who stands in Jace's way will have to be eliminated (by Jace and whoever upholds him as the true heir) in order for his succession to be clear, is the one that convinces Aegon II. Because it's true, and if Jace does not eliminate the potential rivals, at some point someone will challenge that line, and the result will be as devastating as the Dance.

#asks #aegon iii targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #aegon ii targaryen #daemon targaryen #anti team black #team green #i hate tagging it like that because it's just a discussion #but i also don't really need people yelling at me about how rhaenyra or daemon or aegon iii would never

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starsandhughes · 10 months

Note

happy sissy and co tuesday!!

could u write a blurb on a time when trevor and sissy get really flustered around each other before they’re dating and it’s sort of like an “everyone knows but them” situation??

takes place the last game before spring break when trevor officially asked sissy out! it's the 17-18 ntdp season!

-- -- --

"good luck boys! in theater they say 'break a leg,' but don't do that! keep your bones in tact for me!" you said as you hugged all four boys before they had to leave for their game. "i'll be against the glass in my hoodie!"

Jack nudged Trevor when you said that, and Trevor awkwardly ran a hand through his hair before stepping closer to you.

"actually, uh... i was kind of hoping you'd just wear my hoodie tonight? with just my number?" he asked, bushing profusely.

Jack, Cole, and Alex were all lined up in the doorway smirking and sharing looks with each other. they all knew that you two liked each other. Trevor was borderline in love with you for pete's sake! how neither of you could see it was baffling.

"but i always-"

"we don't mind!" Jack cut you off. "wear that 53 loud and proud, Sissy."

Trevor took his hoodie off and handed it to you, biting his lip in fear that you'll still say no. you blushed as you took it and had to refrain yourself from bringing it up to your nose to get a whiff of his scent. his comforting, swoon worthy, warm, scent.

"you sure?" you asked him softly.

"i wouldn't have given it to you if i wasn't," he lightly laughed.

"you can kiss us all for good luck instead," Alex joked, just to get elbowed by Cole. "i mean, you can kiss Trevor four times! one for each of us!"

you pursed your lips and looked down, the flush of your cheeks darkening. it was already out in the open, you couldn't embarrass everyone and say no, right?

"y/n, you don't-"

"i'll kiss your cheeks?" you offered.

Trevor tried to hide his smile as he nodded. you stood on your tip toes to kiss his cheek, "that's for Cole."

you got back down on your feet when he bent over for you to kiss his other, "and that's for Alex."

then you got bold. you looked into his gorgeous green eyes, or whatever color they were, they might as well be a whole new color, and smiled.

"two more," he whispered.

you brought his head down and kissed his forehead, lingering your lips there for a moment.

"that's for Jack."

"and what do i get?"

you looked over at the three boys. more specifically, Jack. he gave you a slight nod, reading your mind.

"this," you said. you brought his lips closer to yours and quickly kissed him. you stepped back, restraining yourself from doing anything more than that. you were scared of his reaction, but he pulled away with a big grin on his face.

"i think you should do that before every game," he said, reaching a hand behind your neck. you shivered at the touch, suddenly feeling embarrassed that you let that happen. in front of your friends and brother, no less!

"i- i uh..."

"we're running late!" Jack cut in to save you. he grabbed Trevor by the arm and pulled him out the door. "see you at the game, Sissy! in Trevor's hoodie! don't forget the hoodie!"

#penalty box series: blurbs #penalty box series #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #jack hughes #alex turcotte #cole caufield #sissy and co. tuesdays

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prettytoxicrevolver · 23 days

Text

Jealous of Joe | Juraj Slafkovský

wc. 1.9k

Juraj's jealous when he sees you with another certain athlete

(sorry for the bad google translate throughout)

You jog down the steps of Nationwide Arena until you're face to face with a wall of glass blocking you from the players on the ice. Your eyes roam the red and white jerseys, finding purchase when they land on the familiar number 20. You look over his figure, studying the way he skates down the ice with ease. He looks like he’s floating, stick down, looking for the puck, focused, perfect.

You and Juraj Slafkovský have been friends since the minute he was drafted by the Montreal Canadiens. As one of many social media managers, you became best friends with the whole team, finding safe spaces in Cole, Nick, Kirby, Kaiden, Monty, and most importantly, Juraj.

The first thing you ever bonded over was your mutual knowledge of the Finnish language. The two of you could converse for hours in Finnish and not even realize until another one of the boys finally gains the courage to ask about what you two have been saying. They even tried to use it to their advantage, asking if you understood what he would say in Slovak but you were no use in that department.

You try to snap yourself out of the trance you were in, looking around the rink to see what kind of media you could create before the game. You’re in the middle of thinking up a new question or tiktok challenge when you feel a presence next to you.

“They look good,” the stranger says from next to you and you don’t look over as you respond, somewhat hoping the person leaves.

“Hopefully they keep it up during the game tonight,” you respond, knowing the Hab's tendency for third period strikeouts.

“You think Caufield will score?” the boy next to you asks and you shrug.

“It’ll make my job easier if he does,” you joke and the laugh that sounds from next to you is so melodic it has curiosity leading you to turn your head.

To say you’re shocked by the man standing next to you is an understatement. After working in this league it takes a lot for you to get star struck by an athlete but you’re speechless, jaw dropped open looking at Joe Burrow standing next to you.

“Holy shit,” you blurt out and the older boy turns to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I’m Joe,” he says, holding a hand out for you to shake and you can’t help the shiver that runs down your back when his hand slides perfectly into yours.

“(y/n),” you say, still not quite sure that you’re not totally dreaming. “No offense, but what are you doing here?”

His laugh has you smiling right along with him and you find yourself wanting to hear more of it.

“I’ve been meaning to come out and see a game for a while, meet the players and so on. I figured since I’m injured,” he takes the moment to lift up a carefully wrapped wrist in front of your eyes. “I would come and check it out.”

“Well if you’re expecting your fellow Ohioans to win, I apologize in advance,” you say and Joe throws his head back in laughter.

“Oh really?”

The two of you continue talking, trading jokes and reveling in each other's laughter. You were beyond enjoying the conversation with Joe and you almost forgot about the ongoing practice and job you should be doing.

Juraj certainly didn’t forget. During practice, a game, in the arena, out of the arena, no matter what Juraj always has an eye on you. The minute you stepped up to the glass during his practice his eye was on you, watching what you were doing, but more importantly, who you ended up talking to. Juraj’s furious and jealous gaze roams your figure, hating the way your head is thrown back in laughter, pink rising to your cheeks at his words, the slight, shy movements he knew all too well.

At some point his brain must have shut off because suddenly his body is barreling down the ice without a second thought. You’re mid sentence to Joe when a loud bang sounds in front of you and you both jump back in fear. You look up to see Juraj standing there, a sheepish smile on his lips but something different in his eyes. You shoot him a look that conveys the sentence “are you serious right now???” and Juraj waves awkwardly before backing off and skating away.

“Your boyfriend?” Joe asks and you jump at his voice, forgetting he was there for a moment.

“No, no,” you say, glancing at him before reverting back to following Juraj’s movements. “Just friends.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I asked you out then?” Joe asks and your body fully turns towards him at the question.

“I can pick you up before the game tonight? I have an empty seat next to me,” he offers and you grin.

“I’d love to.”

Juraj spends the rest of practice pissed and all the boys can tell. They’re even playing a game, seeing who can mess with him the most before he truly snaps.

Nick takes pity on him, the captain skating over to the young player. He follows Juraj’s gaze to where you are and watches as his eyes flame in anger when you smile at Joe.

“What's up?” Nick asks, vague enough that Juraj can tell him what’s actually going on or he can brush it off.

“He can fight?” Juraj asks and Nick fully turns to him in shock.

“What?”

“I’m gonna fight him if he goes out with her,” Juraj says, determination so deep in his eyes that Nick knows he’s not a force to be reckoned with.

Normally, before games you’re nervous for other reasons. Making sure you have enough content, tweets are loaded and ready to go, photos are edited and stats are ready to be posted. This time, your coworker is taking on those nerves while yours belong to the date you were about to go on.

You looked over your outfit for what feels like the millionth time and smooth out the canadiens jersey that falls over your body. You were showing up with Joe but still had Juraj’s last name on your back; the irony. Joe knocks on your hotel room door right at 7 and you let out a breath before making your way to the front door.

You were no stranger to Joe’s pregame outfits but you were shocked out how he could still look so incredibly good even in a simple t-shirt and jeans. His smile is blinding and while you know you should be swooning at the sight, you can only think about Juraj’s crooked smile, the way he looks down, not wanting anyone else to see the beauty.

You and Joe head to the arena, a short drive in his luxury car and he’s nothing but a gentleman the entire time. Your heart flutters from time to time but you’re not sure if it’s because of Joe, or because you're nervous to see Juraj.

You two take your time getting to your seats, stopping to grab drinks before heading down as the players are finishing warm ups. Juraj thinks he’s safe, that he won’t have to control a temper for the rest of the game but it all falls flat when he sees Joe with an arm slung around your shoulders in the front row.

“Leave it be,” Nick warns the younger player and he shakes his head, praying his focus turns towards the game.

The game against the blue jackets is physical, to say the least. The boys are playing like it’s a revenge tour and the game is tied for most of the time. Third period begins and Juraj is firing on all cylinders at this point. He’s finishing his checks, he’s rushing down the ice, he’s doing anything and everything to forget about you and Joe.

You watch as Juraj digs for the puck, a battle between him and one of the blue jackets players trying to gain possession of the puck. It sails down towards Nick and Juraj lets up, words clearly exchanged between him and the opposer.

“Careful before I take your girl out next,” the player sneers at Juraj and he’s officially seeing red.

You watch in slight horror as Juraj slams the player into the boards and fists go flying. The fight must last a quick 20 seconds but feels like a lifetime. You’re on your feet and pressed against the glass as Juraj gets up, a fresh cut on his cheekbone and his hair disheveled and hanging over his now dark eyes.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out, watching as Juraj is escorted down the tunnel and some of the boys are casting glances in your direction.

“(y/n)?” you’re snapped out of your trance at Joe’s voice and turn to find him with worry and understanding in his gaze.

“I have to go check on him,” you say and Joe nods.

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek that explains all of his thoughts and feelings. You smile, a bit of sadness laced in the look, before parting and heading straight for the locker room.

You race down, surprisingly not getting lost as you run and you flash your access badge like your life depends on it. You finally come face to face with the locker room door and you take a deep breath before flinging it open, unable to stay away from Juraj any longer.

“Kto si, do pekla, myslí, že je? Sedí tam s ním a užíva si každú sekundu!! A ten sráč, ktorý-” Your brain flies a million miles an hour trying desperately to grasp the little Slovak language you know but to no avail.

“Juraj?” you call and the 6 foot 2 hockey player halts all movements before turning towards you.

“What are you doing here?” he grinds out, chest heaving trying to catch his breath.

“I wanted to check on you.”

“jebať ma,” he mutters angrily. “Go back to your new boyfriend.”

Juraj was torn clean in half between two sides. One desperately wanting you here, wanting you to stay and talk to him, to explain that Joe meant nothing to you. The other half of him is infuriated, feeling disrespected that you would show up now after flaunting Joe in front of him.

“What the fuck is your issue?” you snap, taking several steps till you're inches from Juraj’s face.

“Ježiš Kristus.”

That’s the last thing you hear before Juraj leans down and slams his lips against yours, the kiss lighting you end to end in a fiery passion. His hands wrap around your waist and pull you up onto your tip toes and press your chest against his padded one. Your body takes a minute to catch up and when you do, your hands tangle deep into Juraj’s damp strands pulling him close and begging him to never let go.

Unfortunately, humans need air and the two of you separate, panting heavily for a moment after. You fall back onto your heels and Juraj’s eyes search yours for a moment before speaking again.

“You’re my issue,” he says and before you can retort he shushes you. “I love you. You walked into my game with my name on your back but your hand holding his.”

Your eyes stare deep into his, your heart cracking at the idea that Juraj could ever be hurt by your actions. However, it’s filled back up when you remember him admitting that he loves you.

“Oh minun rakkauteni,” you murmur, pulling him into you again and reveling in the feeling of his lips on yours.

“It’s you baby. It always has been and it always will be,” you promise.

Juraj grins against you, the moment fleeting but lasting forever.

#prettytoxicrevolver fic #juraj slafkovsky fanfic #juraj slafkovsky imagine #juraj slafkovsky blurb #juraj slafkovsky x reader #juraj slafkovsky fic #montreal canadiens fic #montreal canadiens x reader #montreal canadiens imagine

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

Carpe Noctem 30

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, violence, blood, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

“You two work so hard,” Beverly places the last dish on the table, “me and Ethan will need to come see the cafe sometime. Cole says you've been such a tremendous help.”

"Oh, well, I just do my job," you shrug, "really."

"She's being humble," Cole nudges you, "she hasn't seen the numbers yet but her desserts are a hit. I'm thinking we might lean into the bakery direction."

You nod, surprised by his praise. It's not that he's ever been unkind but to have someone almost boast about you is more than what you're used to. Almost hard to believe.

"If you don't mind sharing, I'd love some recipes," Beverly says as she sits, "you know, we have this pear tree out back. Another of Cole's projects but I have no idea what to do with all that fruit."

"It sells alright," Cole intones, "but yeah, there's always some hanging around."

"So," Ethan grabs the dish of steaming carrots, "I'm sure you do more than pour coffee. You got a green thumb too?"

"Not really," you frown, "plants don't live long with me."

"She's great with kids," Cole offers, "worked at a daycare, right?"

"Erm, yeah," you reply, surprised he remembered, "hopefully I can find my way back. I love baking but I really enjoyed the work."

"Ouch," Cole utters, "well, I'll have to start looking at resumes."

"Well, not... soon, I don't know," you scoop some carrots onto your own plate, "you know, just in the future when things are stable."

"Good way to get ready for some of your own," Beverly adds.

"Um, yeah, maybe one day," you try not to make a face. If you ever want kids, you have a lot to figure out.

"You know, Cole is that type. He's so excited to be a father one day. He volunteers down at the community garden."

"I didn't know that," you glance at him as he gives a bashful grin.

"Well, I enjoy it so it's not really work," he spears a piece of roast onto his plate. "And yeah, one day, if I'm lucky. Cole Junior will be running around helping me with this place."

"That sounds so nice. Must be a lot of work running a farm."

"Good work," Ethan affirms, "but hard. Still, nice and quiet out here. City is... so loud."

"So are kids," you jibe.

"Good kinda loud," Beverly smirks, her eyes lingering on you oddly. "How old are ya?"

You hesitate. The question is abrupt; unexpected. You answer as you take a thinner slice of the roast.

"Not too old," she remarks, "you still got some time for a wedding and all that. I'm sure you'll have a few little ones running around soon enough."

You don't say a word as you add a healthy mound of potatoes to your spread. You're hungrier with each whiff of the seasoned dishes. You smile and stir the mash elusively. Cole clears his throat, scratching the stubble there.

"Oh, I didn't say. I made dessert. I don't know if it'll live up to your standards but don't fill up too much," Beverly warns, "then we can get you settled in for the night."

"Sounds good," you poke the fork into a carrot, "thanks again."

"Not all, dear, not at all," she smiles, "we been waiting so long for him to bring home a pretty girl like you."

You blink and look at Cole. He squirms but keeps his eyes on his plate, his mouth twisted. He must be just as embarrassed as you but you expect it's a better guise than the truth. Besides, it's just one night.

💋

"I'm sorry, dear, there's so much clutter around here. Hate to put you up here," Beverly says as she leads you into the attic, "but you got everything you need. There's even a bathroom up here. You know, Cole went through a bit of a rebellious streak and wanted to have his own space. Once the summer heat moved in, he was right back downstairs."

"Oh," you chuckle, "interesting."

"Now, I didn't have much for you, I hope you don't mind flannel," she motions you towards the bed and the frilled nightgown folded at the foot.

"That's okay, thank you so much," you say, "I'm just grateful to have somewhere to sleep."

"Mmm, yeah, Cole says things are so good at home. You got a bad roommate or something?"

"Something like that," you mutter, "this is so nice."

You walk around the space, admiring the plaid bedspread, the little sofa under the window and lace curtains along the edges. There's a round rug under the bed frame and a little desk in the corner with a mirror hung on the wall above. In the corner, a door opens into a dark space that Beverly explains as the bathroom.

"The guest house had a tree go through it during a storm so we're working on it, this isn't too bad though," she says, "feel free to let us know if you need anything."

"Sure," you smile, "I should be fine."

"I do hope you can get some good sleep."

"Thanks, uh, yeah," you rub your itchy eyes and yawn, "I'm actually exhausted."

"Then I'll let you be," she waves herself away, "have a good night, hon."

"You too."

She shuts the door before she descends the stairs, the little hatch snapping sharply into place. You push your head back and pace out the cramps in your legs. You sit on the bed and drag your hands down your face. This isn't how you saw the day ending. You wonder how it would've gone had you gone back to Lloyd's, probably not well. Once he cools off, you'll sort it all out.

You sigh as you realise your purse is still downstairs. Oh well, you don't need your phone, you need sleep. You get up to switch out your clothes for the nightgown, the fabric starched and heavy. It goes to your ankles as the cuffs button snuggly around your wrists. Very old-fashion as the collar nearly touches your chin.

You turn out the lamp and climb under the fresh sheets, soft and comforting. The tension slakes away the night rustles just outside the window, moonlight flickering over you. You close your eyes and let yourself sink into the cushy mattress.

In the morning, you can worry about the cafe and Lloyd and Cole and life...

💋

You wake with a start. What was that? You swear you heard something. You sit up, heart racing as you look around in the purple light of dawn. It's still early. You have some hours left.

You're tempted to fall back and roll over but you won't hear your alarm from up here. You groan and get out of bed, achy from the unfamiliar springs. You shuffle over to the hatch. Your phone needs to be charged anyway.

You bend to grab the handle and the door sticks. You try again, turning it the other way but it doesn't budge. You use both hands as light limns the edges, outlining the deadbolt firmly in place. The handle doesn't effect it no matter how you twist it.

You hear a creak from below as the glow flicks off. You wince and get to your knees as you try to see through the cracks. Nothing but darkness.

"Hello," you utter, "can someone help? I can't get this open?" Footsteps softly pad along. You call again, "hey, please, is someone down there?"

"Shhhhhh," the hush blows like wind as the footsteps stop.

"Hello?" You say a little louder.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart," Beverly demands.

"Beverly? It's locked, please, I need to get my phone--"

"You need to be quiet," she retorts and you wince. "You're going to wake the whole house up."

"What?" You hiss, startled by her tone. Her footsteps continue to recede. "Wait--"

"I said be quiet!" Another door shuts and the silence echoes over you. You grab the handle, trying to force the door open. What the hell is going on?

#carpe noctem #series #drabble #au #the club #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #cole turner #dark cole turner #dark!cole turner #ghosted #the gray man

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