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#i’m crying up in this (swim) club

pucksandpower · 1 month

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Don’t Touch Her

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando will do whatever it takes to ensure your safety after the unthinkable almost happens during a night out

Warnings: spiked drink, attempted SA, descriptions of seizure, hospitalization, and the implied murder of a minor character

You sway your hips to the pulsing beat, the colorful lights of the club flashing across your skin. Lando’s hands rest lightly on your waist, guiding you to the music. You lean into him, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the tang of sweat in the humid air.

“I’m parched,” you say, turning to face him. “Want me to grab you a drink?”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I can get them, love. You keep dancing.”

You shake your head, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I need to get off my feet for a bit anyway. Same as usual?”

“Please. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

You make your way through the crowded dance floor, weaving around gyrating bodies and flailing limbs. The bar is packed, patrons jostling for the bartenders’ attention. You manage to wedge yourself into a tiny gap, shouting your order over the commotion.

While waiting for the drinks, you check your phone. A few missed texts from friends, asking where you are. You fire back quick responses before pocketing the device just as the bartender slides two glasses toward you.

Vodka cranberry for you, rum and coke for Lando. You pass over a few bills, waving away the change, and turn to head back to the dance floor.

You take a long sip of your drink as you walk, the bubbly sweetness refreshing after all that dancing.

Lando is easy to spot, standing out due to the size of the crowd surrounding him. He smiles when he sees you coming, his whole face lighting up. Your heart flutters at the way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the room.

You’re halfway to him when the first wave of dizziness hits. You stumble, drinks sloshing over your hands. Sudden nausea swirls in your gut. The room starts to spin, lights blurring into a kaleidoscope.

“Hey ...” You blink hard, trying to clear the fog creeping over your thoughts. “I don’t … feel so good.”

The glasses slide from your grip, shattering on the floor. You try to take a step toward Lando and the ground rushes up to meet you. Strong hands grab your arms, keeping you from collapsing completely.

“Whoa there, looks like someone started the party a little early.” The voice is unfamiliar, masculine with a hint of mocking laughter. You try to pull away but your limbs feel like lead.

“No, I ...” You shake your head, which only makes the dizziness worse. Through your dimming vision you can see Lando pushing through the crowd, his eyes wide.

“C’mon, there’s a back door this way. Let’s get you some air.” The man starts to guide you away, arms wrapped around your shoulders. Panic shoots through you and you try again to wrench yourself free, but it’s useless.

The cold night air hits you as the door swings open. The alley swims before you, dingy bricks and overflowing dumpsters. The man keeps walking, bearing you along while your weak protests fall on deaf ears.

Fear claws at your insides. You catch a glimpse of streetlights at the other end of the alley before he steers you into the shadows halfway down.

“S-stop,” you mumble, tongue heavy in your mouth. He just chuckles, pressing you against the brick wall.

“Shh, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” His hand squeezes your thigh, rucking up your dress. Somewhere in the recesses of your fading mind, terror shrieks at you to fight, to run, but your traitorous body refuses to respond.

As the man leans in, the alley floods with light. Heavy footsteps pound on the pavement.

“Get your hands off her!” Lando’s voice booms with more fury than you’ve ever heard from him. The man holding you whirls around just as Lando’s fist connects with his jaw. He reels back with a cry, grip loosening. Lando catches you before you can slide to the ground.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you.” His touch is infinitely gentle compared to the bruising hold of the stranger. He strokes your hair back from your face, eyes searching yours. “Can you hear me, love?”

You try to respond but only manage a faint whimper. Lando swears under his breath. Scooping you into his arms, he carries you swiftly from the alley. You press your face to his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline as he strides toward the street. Each jostling step sends the world spinning again.

Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.

Lando lowers you onto a bench outside the club, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “Talk to me, please. What’s happening?”

You lick your dry lips, forcing words out with monumental effort. “Dizzy … everything … blurry ...”

Lando’s face creases with worry. He pulls out his phone to dial for help, but pauses when you suddenly convulse, muscles seizing. Your back arches, head slamming against the hard bench.

“Shit! Hold on, I’ve got you.” Lando slides his hand under your head, cradling it gently as the seizure wracks your body. Tears stream down his face as he murmurs soothing words, helpless to do anything but wait it out.

After endless moments, the convulsions stop. You go limp, gasping raggedly. The world fades in and out of focus, Lando’s anguished face floating above you.

“Please, baby, stay with me,” he begs, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. “The ambulance will be here any second.”

You try to respond but darkness crowds the edges of your vision. The last thing you see before slipping into unconsciousness is Lando bent over you, shoulders shaking with sobs as he clutches your motionless hand.

***

Beeping.

Hushed voices.

The astringent scent of disinfectant.

You drift somewhere between waking and oblivion, grasping at fractured memories.

Lando’s face, streaked with tears.

Dancing bodies.

Pulsing lights.

The weight of unwanted hands, dragging you into the shadows.

With a sharp inhale, your eyes fly open. You’re in a hospital room, IV line taped to the back of your hand. Pale morning light filters through the blinds. The beeping comes from a monitor tracking your heartbeat.

“Hey.” Lando sits in a chair beside the bed, leaning forward when he sees you’re awake. His eyes are rimmed with red, hair disheveled. “How are you feeling?”

You try to speak but your throat is painfully dry. Lando grabs a cup of water, angling the straw so you can sip. The cool liquid soothes like a balm, washing away the cottony feeling in your mouth.

“What … what happened?” You rasp out finally.

Lando’s expression turns grim. “Someone drugged you at the club. Probably targeting an easy robbery, but ...” His jaw clenches, hands balling into fists. “If I had been even a few seconds later, he would have ...”

Unable to finish the thought, Lando buries his face in his hands. His shoulders tremble. Your heart aches, and you reach out to comb gentle fingers through his hair.

“But you weren’t,” you say softly. “You saved me.”

He looks up, eyes shining wetly. “I never should have let you out of my sight. If I lost you ...” His breath hitches, raw anguish written across his face.

“Hey, no.” You catch his hand, squeezing firmly. “This wasn’t your fault. You found me in time. That’s all that matters.”

Fresh tears spill down Lando’s cheeks. He brings your entwined hands to his lips, pressing a trembling kiss to your knuckles.

“I was so scared,” he chokes out. “Seeing you like that, helpless, shaking ...” He clenches his jaw, looking away. “And not being able to do anything. Just having to watch ...”

He breaks off with a shuddering breath. You tug gently on his hand, urging him up from the chair. He perches on the edge of the bed, enveloping you in his tender arms. You cling to each other, tears mingling as the enormity of what almost happened sinks in.

After long moments, Lando pulls back to cup your face in both hands. He searches your eyes, still flooded with relief and lingering fear.

“I could have lost you,” he repeats in a shattered whisper.

You cover his hands with your own. “But you didn’t. I’m right here. With you.”

His breath leaves him a rush, the frightened tension easing from his frame. Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours. The beeping monitor and distant hospital noises fade away, leaving just the two of you suspended in this quiet intimacy.

When Lando finally lifts his head, the fire in his eyes makes your heart stutter.

“I love you,” he says, low and fervent.

You meet Lando’s intense gaze, equally overcome by emotion.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

He cradles your face again, thumbs sweeping feather-light over your cheeks. Slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that steals your breath. It’s soft yet saturates you with his passion, fear, relief — every shade of the feelings coursing between you in this moment. You sink into it, hands coming up to twist in his rumpled shirt, keeping him close.

When he pulls back, you’re both a little breathless. Lando smooths your hair, regret pinching his features.

“I should let you rest. The doctor said you’ll probably feel weak and foggy for a few days.”

You give a small shrug. “I don’t feel that bad right now. Just … stay with me?”

He smiles softly. “Of course, love.”

Settling next to you on top of the sheets, he loops an arm around your shoulders. You nestle against him, comforted by his familiar warmth and scent. For a long moment, you simply savor being wrapped in this bubble of solace.

“Do they know who did it yet?” You finally ask, unable to quell your lingering unease about the attack.

Lando shakes his head. “The police looked at security footage but the guy’s face wasn’t visible. They’re still investigating.”

You nod, chewing your lip. Lando tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.

“I won’t let him get away with this,” he says, quiet but fierce. “I’ll do whatever it takes to find him and make sure he never hurts anyone again.”

There’s cold fury underlying his tone that you’ve never heard from him before. It reminds you viscerally of that brief glimpse in the alley — Lando transformed in the heat of protective rage.

But now the fire in his eyes is fanned and smoldering. A determination that won’t relent.

He tightens his arm around you, pressing his lips to your hair. You settle against his chest again, comforted by the steady thump of his heartbeat.

***

A few days later, you’re curled up on the couch with Lando, a movie playing quietly in the background. You’re mostly zoning out, still feeling residual exhaustion. Lando plays idly with your hair, a comforting sensation.

When your phone buzzes with an alert, you grab it lazily, expecting a text from a friend. Instead, a news headline makes you bolt upright.

Lando notices your change in demeanor.

“What is it, love?”

“That man, the one from the club … he was found dead. I would recognize his face anywhere.”

You continue to scan the article. “Doesn’t specify much, just that he was found in an abandoned building across town. Ruled a homicide but no suspects or motive yet.”

You wordlessly tilt the phone screen for him to see. He looks at it blankly, face impassive.

“Oh. Well, perhaps some justice has been served after all.”

You narrow your eyes at his mild tone. “Did you ...”

“Did I what?”

“Have something to do with this?”

Lando presses a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Me? Now why would you think that?”

“Lando.” You level him with a knowing look. “Did you?”

He meets your gaze steadily for a moment before sighing. “I told you I’d make sure he never hurt anyone again. A man like that doesn’t deserve to keep stealing breaths.”

You absorb this, unsure how to feel. “So you ...”

“I didn’t personally do anything,” Lando hedges. “But I have … connections. People who know people who can handle things quietly.”

You bite your lip. “You had him killed.”

Lando takes your hands in his. “Hey. Look at me. That bastard drugged you, dragged you into an alley. He would have ...” His jaw flexes. “I did what needed to be done to keep you and others safe.”

“I just ...” You wrestle with your conflicted emotions. “I don’t know how I feel about you essentially ordering a hit.”

He drags a hand over his mouth. When he speaks, his voice is low and controlled. “All that matters is he can’t hurt you or anyone else now. Try to remember what he did to you — how you felt. Helpless. Frightened. I wasn’t about to let him continue terrorizing women.”

You take a shaky breath. “No, you’re right. It’s just a lot to wrap my head around.”

Lando caresses your cheek. “You have the biggest, kindest heart of anyone I know. But some people are simply too dangerous to be allowed to go on hurting people. I don’t take this lightly, but there are times when permanent solutions are necessary. Do you understand?”

Up close, you can see the storm of emotions he’s battling to contain. Anger, satisfaction, hints of doubt and guilt. You cup his face.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For protecting me, even if it meant ...”

Lando closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. “I would do anything for you. Anything to keep you safe.” His thumb strokes along your jaw. “You never have to worry. You’ll always be safe with me. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, no matter what.”

His voice rings with quiet conviction. You cover his hand with your own, meeting his solemn gaze. In this moment, you truly comprehend the depths he’s willing to go for you.

“I know you will,” you whisper. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

Lando searches your face, shoulders losing their rigid tension when he finds only acceptance and gratitude shining back at him.

“I would be lost without you,” he murmurs.

You lean in, kissing him softly. “You’ll never have to find out.”

Drawing back, you offer a tiny smirk. “And clearly, I should never get on your bad side.”

Lando huffs a surprised laugh. The lingering shadows in his eyes fade as he pulls you close. You sink into his embrace, heartbeat steadying against his.

Whatever lengths Lando went to in order to protect you, to remove the threat hanging over your regained sense of safety, you know you’ll forever be thankful for this devoted, fierce, and tender-hearted man you love.

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yoongikapi · 3 months

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dates || ot7 || drabble

just pure fluff

masterlist

namjoon:

❥ namjoon would ABSOLUTELY take you on beautiful walks through the park or cute lil nature walks

❥ and at golden hour the sun would hit his face just right and he’d look otherworldly, you’d smile and he’d ask why but you’d just squeeze his hand tighter

❥ he’d also love if you ask him to take you to the aquarium. he’d probably point out a couple of fish swimming together and say that it’s just like the two of you

jin:

❥ he’d enjoy taking you out to a fancy restaurant, he would absolutely joke that he could do better than the chefs and you joke back that he should apply for a job

❥ it would make him smile if he took you to an amusement park, you’d want to play the games and he’d win a big RJ plushie for you

❥ he’d tightly hold your hand on the roller coaster rides, and grip the handle with his other hand and you’d laugh at him for being so scared

❥ “i wasn’t scared, i was just keeping you safe”

yoongi:

❥ he’d be perfectly content with staying home and watching a movie with you; you’d vote on watching a scary movie and he’d say no. in the end he’d play whatever it is you wanted though

❥ you would cry if he setup a romantic dinner date; candles would cover the room and to top it off he’d play a song he wrote for you

❥ his sweet voice and beautiful guitar would be the only thing that mattered in that moment, you’d hug him tight and thank him for such a perfect night

hobi:

❥ he’d tell you to dress fancy and take you to a dance club

❥ he’d try to teach you some moves but would end up taking your hands in his and would just jump around with you; your smile would light up the room and your laugh would ring in his ears

❥ he’d blush and when the slow songs played, he’d hold you close and spin with you, and would be quick to forgive you when you step on his toes

jimin:

❥ this man would LOVE to spoil you

❥ he’d take you to the fanciest places he knows and would let you pick out whatever you wanted, you’d fight him on paying for some things and he would laugh after you’d see the prices as he hands the clerk his card

❥ “let me buy you something nice too” you’d tell him and he’d agree, you’d hold his hand tighter leading him to the dollar store

(i’m so sorry but we broke)

taehyung:

❥ 100% would take you to an art museum, he’d bring his camera and take cute pictures of you

❥ the two of you would laugh as you setup a self- timer and run to get a good picture together in time

❥ he’d also love to do a painting date with you

❥ he’d setup everything and you’d be shocked when you got home to see the living room covered with canvases and painting supplies; the two of you would laugh at each others’ attempts at painting each other

jungkook:

❥ you’d hug and kiss and thank him so much and he’d just smile when he surprised you with tickets to your favorite artist

❥ you’d jump up and down and scream the songs, he’d just stand there holding your purse but he loves to see you happy and would do anything for you

❥ he’d take you ice skating and would hold on tight to you to keep you from falling

❥ “jungkook you’re good at everything” you’d tell him

❥ he’d simply smile and agree with you

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elektramustdie · 5 months

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jealousy

“fucking say it.”

he growls, his cock thrusting into you at a harsher pace, your wrists pinned above your head. when you came back from the club that night, after babysitting your drunken friends— one of which you had to nearly carry out of the club. you never expected to end up in this situation. your body squished between him and the wall of his bedroom, Frank fucking into you like a wild animal. in an attempt to stake his claim of you, one of which was already his. but he felt you needed a little reminder after smelling another man’s cologne on your sweaty skin.

you can only manage a whimper, his cock hitting that spot inside you that makes your head swim. but the male is clearly not satisfied, letting go of your wrists to grab your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. you had never seen this side of him before, but you couldn’t deny how sexy you found it. He already had you cumming on his cock twice, but he’d make you cum as many times as was needed. until you remembered who you belonged to.

“come on darlin’, have i fucked you that silly already? use. your. words.”

Frank lets go of your cheeks, slowing the speed of his hips. his cock dragging in and out of at such a frustrating pace, it makes tears well up in your eyes as your nails grip his bare shoulders. the male merely chuckles at the sight, kissing them away. as you attempt to grind your hips down, desperate for him to take pity on you. but you know it wouldn’t be that easy.

“if you want me to fill up this pretty pussy, you gotta say it baby.”

your body is trembling in his grasp, keeping himself buried inside you, but stilling his hips as he awaits your answer. frank’s dark eyes watching you intensely, making your walls clench harder around his cock.

“i’m y-yours.”

Frank rewards you with a snap of his hips, lips nearly crushing yours. but you don’t mind, moaning loudly into his open mouth as you tangle your fingers in his curls.

“tell me again, fuck tell me again sweetheart.”

you know he’s getting close, from the way his breath hitches in his throat and his cock twitches inside you. your fingers falling between your bodies to rub at your swollen clit, eager to make him finally fall apart with you.

“i’m yours frank, baby please.”

that’s all it takes for him to finally lose it, spilling his warmth inside you. curses and moans tumbling from his plump lips as he fills you up to the brim. his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossy but he doesn’t stop fucking you.

a cry of his name leaving your lips as your third orgasm crashes over you. leaving you a complete mess in his embrace. both of you are panting, feeling your combined mess beginning to drip down your thighs.

a giggle suddenly escapes you, now coming to the realization of just who he was jealous over. a confused look crossing his features as he sets you on your feet, leaning his hand against the wall next to your head.

“i’ll have to tell Gerard to wear cologne more often… especially if it means you’ll fuck me like that.”

#smut fic #emo #frank iero #frank iero x reader #mcr #my chemical romance

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the-orange-tabby-cat · 1 day

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The Renegade

joel miller x fem!reader

Summary of the fic: This is why I’m writing to you, Tess. Do you see how much trouble am I? How unstable and not anywhere good for him? I can’t fall in love with him and he can’t get closer, I’m a weak bitch: I’m gonna fall for him if you don’t help me. I walked too many meters of bad decisions before, I can’t cross another ocean. You are my only hope, The renegade - Your parents ask you to try seeing a therapist, Tess, and you agree under one condition: she can't let you fall in love with Joel Miller. A fic in the format of letters, from you to Tess. 🐾

read on AO3 | masterlist | next chapter

CW/tags: Explict +18, no outbreak AU, slow burn, fluff, smut, kinda loser reader? lol, implied age gap, coming of age, no use of y/n

Word count of the prologue + chapter 1: 6,4k

A/N: This will be a quick fic, I promise! I needed to take it off my head, it was clogging everything else at this point lol I really wanted an anti-hero protagonist instead of the usual good girls I write. She is messy and adorable at the same time, I'm really proud of how the story is taking shape! Hope you like it!

PROLOGUE

Austin, July 2024

Dear Tess,

You said I could write you in any format as long I’m true to what I’m putting out. That’s some therapist bullshit, but since it’s you reading this mess, I will let it slide. I thought a lot about what to write down for you, not the usual overthinking, more of a “where do I begin?”. Remember, you were the one who told me to write this if I can’t say out loud what it is inside my head while we are in session. This shit is hard, okay?

Let me start by being the smartpants I used to be: the human brain processes a thought faster than one meter per second. If I put together all the meters my brain ran while getting bad ideas, I could now cross the Atlantic Ocean.

Do you remember when you were a kid and your parents told you to avoid certain people? That strange feeling you get when you see a trainwreck of a person, the one that didn’t exactly do something bad, they just are stuck somewhere out of this reality and you think to yourself “I would never get in that position”?

I did get in that position. I’m stuck in that somewhere. For years now.

Wish I could tell you that something horrible happened to me when I was younger, that my mother crushed all my dreams and my dad left one day to buy a pack of cigarettes. What about a strict family or an over-the-top religious one where I’m one of ten kids? Not even close to the truth, I’m an only daughter.

Middle middle class: enough money to live more than comfortably, far from the luscious lifestyle of the riches. I grew up knowing money didn’t come from the trees, I touched some grass, okay? The only thing expected by my kinda-aristocrat parents was that I would achieve academic success prior to a life full of achievements.

Chess competitions, spelling bee trophies (if I make a mistake a few pages down, it’s been a while since it), debate club captain, swimming team… You name it and I did. At seventeen I was voted as “most likely to be successful” and second place for homecoming queen because slutty Katie gave the basketball team a sloppy blowjob after practice. I had a first kiss and gave one bad handjob under the bleachers by that age.

Then university came and nobody, no fucking body, got wowed when I got an Ivy League on my first try. My head was too shoved up my ass to notice life around me. I wasn’t a pretty girl anymore because girls in my class were prettier than me, wasn’t the smartest since I wasn’t a teacher’s pet by just existing.

My classmates didn’t care for me because I had no clue about social etiquette: what alcohol is acceptable to bring to a frat party? How do you pick up guys and let them suck on your tongue? Do you stay inside your dorm room when your roommate is fucking or do you wait outside?

I could do it with being the awkward girl, but not with being less than perfect. By the second semester, I was crying every day in the shower and realized I had no friends, just people who had the same interests as me back home. I tried so hard to become the number one in my class that life became hell the second my teacher gave me a lower score on a significant test.

I left her class and instead of crying, calling my parents to vent, or any other shit, I walked by the first frat house I saw and decided to lose my v card there with any guy that looked remotely cute.

Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be a slut if I hadn’t had a penis inside me yet, but I knew that something was boiling up for years. My hand sneaking under my panties after a tiring day, humping on my pillow whenever I got frustrated, even the shoulder massager I got for after swimming practice humming on my clit did it. All I needed was a chance to forget for a moment the hell that was my life.

And I did. A sand blond guy with a shark smile that would fuck anything that moved in his direction, clearly a rich bitch whose parents got his spot in the university. I walked in his direction and took my panties off, put them in his hand, and the next thing I saw he was deep inside of me while I hopped him vigorously.

I cummed so hard that I think saw Jesus, whatever he might be. Not that the guy made me cum, I had an itch for so long that any scratch would do it. Any. After coming down my high it was clear in my mind: I would do anything that I didn’t do before.

Drink until pass out, rob beer from the liquor store, fuck my roommate's hot dad, cheat on a test. Nothing was out of limits. Well, I still had to finish university and never use drugs because that was a hard no for me.

You see, Tess, I’m so good at keeping my promises to other people and ignoring my own needs that I did finish university. Graduated with an honor badge and everything, my parents' wet dream. Expect they no longer knew me and had no clue that I spent four years whoring myself and doing everything to ignore who I used to be.

And this is why on my first day in a big company, a trainee job earned right after college, I vomited inside the bathroom stall during onboarding. A panic attack a week later when my leader delegated some tasks. You give me a few months and my mind went blank the second I started a presentation to the c level board. I ran so fast outside that I fell on the sidewalk, got up, called for a cab, and never came back.

It’s been years since it.

My parents came to you because they still have some hope. I don’t, I think they are being dumb. Yes, I have an Ivy League degree, a bunch of useless skills (except for Mandarin, I can read so fast the menu at a Chinese restaurant) but nothing to do with when I WON’T come back to who I used to be. Do you think I sound miserable now? I’m miserable but I’m free in my kitchenette downtown, with my band t-shirts and two jobs. Living the dream.

Of course I’m fucking lying to you. I hate my life because the bitch running it is so dumb (that’s me, by the way).

It used to be kinda cool. The day I ran from the office was the same day I went straight to the arcade and played Mortal Kombat II so much that I broke the machine’s record. I went there for a full week before the manager, an emo guy looking like a teenager, decided to hire me.

It wasn’t enough to pay for my fancy downtown apartment, the one that got furniture that didn’t come from IKEA, so I had to move to the shithole I’m now. A mini studio in a building so old that if the city trembles, I’m sure that I will be turning into dust.

Years in this life, day after day, and I wasn’t mad about it. I was free, after all. It took about two years for my parents to find out that I wasn’t the prodigious child anymore and they took better than I expected. My mom cried, cursed my name, and asked if someone hurt me but I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I was the one who caused it.

Anyway, you already know this stuff. They told you their side of the story when letting you know that I would be your new patient. What exactly have they told you? About how I never introduced them to a guy and my dad had a very straightforward conversation with me about why lesbians were cool and he would accept me if I was one? Maybe they told you about how I got so drunk one Christmas that end up peeing on the petunias in the neighbor’s yard and my mom thought it was a good idea to tell them I was heavily sedated from a fear of flying? Nobody said it was easy to be an only child.

What you don’t know is that I have a love life, you are welcome. For years I’ve been sleeping around with a married man. I know, I know, shocking! Scandalous! His name is Peter and he is dumb as a door. But the dick is good and he sometimes treats me like a real person. I met him at a bar, gave him a blowjob in the back alley (Katie would be proud) and we see each other every week since.

Remember when I said my family isn’t religious? Thank god because that’s not everything. I have a boyfriend, a real one. It was a scorching day, the AC wasn’t working and I had to put the neckline out a bit before becoming a puddle. That’s when I see him, playing with his friends, having fun, being so fucking broad and handsome… I had to taste it.

Flirted a bit and boom, got him at the back door pumping deep inside of me while I was sitting on a desk. He was amazing, he was making me gooey to the point of screaming in pleasure. Too good to be true, when he was about to come I saw the little golden cross pending from his neck.

The next day he came back, told me how sorry he was, and asked me for an opportunity to show me how good he could be. I thought he wanted a second round, but nope, he wanted me to meet Jesus. I’m a people pleaser, Tess. It has been four months since I’m Mormon Isaac’s girlfriend. Every Sunday I attend the mess, his family knows me and I haven’t slept with him since that first day. It marks also the four months I’m trying to break up with him.

You must think that I ain’t a good person and you are right, I’m not. Not the worst, but for sure not a fucking saint. I don’t come back in my decisions, anyone else with less brain would, but not me. I’m stubborn and deal with the hell I made of my own life. Or used to, because now I’m head over heels for this guy, Tess.

Joel Miller. The stupid hunk who is older, wiser, and hot. Who I can’t stop thinking about since we met. Damn his pretty brown eyes and how they look into my soul. I’m a mess and I need some help dealing with it before he gets into my trap and I destroy him.

This is why I’m writing to you, Tess. Do you see how much trouble am I? How unstable and not anywhere good for him? I can’t fall in love with him and he can’t get closer, I’m a weak bitch: I’m gonna fall for him if you don’t help me. I walked too many meters of bad decisions before, I can’t cross another ocean.

You are my only hope,

The renegade

P.S. I won’t pay you shit, hope my parents paid you enough for this.

CHAPTER ONE

Austin, July 2024

Dear Tess,

Yes, I'm doing well, thank you for your concern, guess the rambling in my last letter got you worried about me. It’s a skill, I’m very good at making people worry. I'm marvelous, splendid, and well, fucked. By our last session, you asked me more details of how I ended up meeting Joel and I said to you “a lady never tells” and you didn't laugh, tough crowd. Let me paint you a picture then.

There are many regulars at the arcade. The asians dudes that go there after Kumon (been there, done that, I feel so sorry for them), the lone wolves of 40+ that still want to feel young since they can't get any pussy and, my favorites, the after-school reruns.

These little fuckers go there every week to burn some steam from their sugary-inflicted bodies, stay until 4 pm and go straight to their houses, to their mom and dad. I'm not bitter, I just hate teenagers.

I'm aware that it sounds like I'm on the wrong career path since they keep my economy going, but fuck it, teenagers give me the creeps. Except for the queers, they are quite nice. I have a baby lesbian (it’s pretty obvious) that I call 3 pm because she comes by this time twice a week, Ellie.

She is probably fifteen or so and everything I wasn't at her age. Firecracker, bossy with a dirty mouth – did I ever tell you that the first time I said “fuck” in front of my parents was after my meltdown? You can get it. One of the only teenagers I got close to if I'm honest. She came by one afternoon, saw Mortal Kombat II, and hasn't left since.

“Who's The Renegade?” She asked me one time, checking out the scoreboard with disgust. Remember I beat the machine record? She was right after me.

“No clue, try harder.” I teased her thinking she wouldn't care and move on with her life, like people do.

But not Ellie, she tried really hard to break the fucking record. Week after week, I watched her trying her best from my glass display while wearing the ugly bowling striped shirt that is my uniform.

I saw him way before he saw me. Doing my regular afternoon routine, cleaning the games with some rubbing alcohol to avoid the sticky hands infecting everywhere, minding my business under the neon light. All good, until I saw broad shoulders (I have a type, okay? Sue me) playing the fucking Mortal Kombat II with Ellie by his side.

Broad, so fucking broad. Dark curls with some gray here and there adorning his ears. I must have made some noise because for a second he looked back and that nose? Yeah, that was the end of me.

“You were close, old man,” Ellie teased as the fight on screen got to an end. He glared at her before looking at his score. “Nah, you're full of shit. Not even close to me or The Renegade.”

“Yeah, if I was spending that much time here I would be second place too,” he groaned before gaining full height. That voice gave me chills as I pretended I haven't heard shit, trying to not sneak a look and failing every time.

And that was it, Tess. Not exactly your meet cute, sorry. He came back maybe three or four times, always polite, nothing else. I thought it would be a silent crush, a small one until I got bored. I’m constantly bored.

My second job is a little less orthodox, if you can call my first one that. A girl has to do what she has to to get that bag. On Christmas, I’m the Santa helper with a mini skirt and sweet smiles (you can imagine how many times I picked up bored dads like that), by Easter, I’m your lucky bunny hopping around in white hot pants, when Thanksgiving is around the corner I’m the sluttiest turkey you ever saw.

The mall manager pays me double because I let him once see my boobs and the poor guy is so lonely that he is more than sure that we will sleep together at some point.

“A vest with “can I help you?” tagline? Where is the skanky clothes?” I asked him one Saturday morning, thinking he made a mistake giving me the day costume.

“We’re getting more boomers and older visitors, we need someone to stay in a good floor spot and answer their questions,” he told me in a boring tone, the sadness in his eyes always a classic.

“Okay, if they ask me questions, what do I do? I don’t know shit about this mall except that you can buy powder by the public telephones and shouldn’t use the ladies bathroom on the second floor, that’s where Nora from Chipotle goes and that woman’s ass is rancid.” He furrowed his brows and dragged his hand on his face, taking his time to process what I had just said.

“Just be nice and bring them to someone who will be helpful, maybe a security guard, I don’t know. And don’t use cocaine while on the job, I can’t deal with another junkie here,” he said reinforcing the vest on my hands and urging me to get out of the room.

Now would be a good time to remind you that I don’t use drugs, never did. I might be many things in this life, but not a stoner. Not because I’m prudish or think drugs are bad for you, even if they are. I’m way too afraid about getting hooked once I realize that the play-pretend reality that they induce in your brain is better than this one. I’m self-destructive, but not stupid.

So there I was, in my lime neon vest, above a small platform with a big dark blue “information” written. Thinking about anything you can imagine, my shift lasts six hours and I can’t sit down, just a fifteen-minute bathroom break. One of my worst nightmares is to be alone with the dumb bitch inside my head, that’s why I hate silence.

When was the last time you went to a mall? They used to be a big deal in my younger days, but now they are dead. It’s so fucking slow, just little packs of people here and there. Not even music playing to alleviate the tension between me and my stupid brain.

“Miss?” A small voice called, I looked to the sides and saw nobody, so they insisted. “Miss?”

I looked down on the platform and to my surprise, a toddler with big brown eyes and curly hair was calling me. Hesitating for a second, I climbed down my platform and crouched to get my eyes the same height as his, I read once that kids get more comfortable like that.

“Hm, yeah?” I asked unsure of how one talks with kids, shouldn’t he be there with an adult?

“I can’t find my uncle,” the poor kid was on the verge of tears, making me panic.

“Okay, let’s find him,” I said with very little confidence, unsure how to approach it.

Before I could think about what I would do, his hand found a place in mine, holding me like an anchor. I decided to go to the nearest security guard and hope for the best, one thing was to be a failure by myself and another was to fail a little kid.

We walked for about five minutes, the fucking mall had a small amount of guards. No fucking clue why nobody comes down there. The kid got a little tired of walking and held up his little arms, asking to be picked up.

I accepted it, letting him rest his head on my shoulder. Thinking about it now, as I write this to you, I can’t remember the last time somebody hugged me. We might need to talk about it in session.

“You tell me if you see him, okay? What does your uncle look like?” I asked still walking down the corridor, searching for the damn guard.

“Big, fluffy hair,” I laughed at how wholeheartedly the kid tried to answer it.

“Blue eyes? Dark hair?” He shook his head for the first one but nodded at the second.

Changing corridor, I saw from afar a big guy and a smaller figure talking with a guard and figured out it was the kid’s uncle. The man seemed agitated, speaking with his hands in the air. As I pressed my steps, the figures got more familiar. Made a signal for the kid, showing them when we were close enough and his face lightened up.

“Uncle Joel!” He shouted happily, as I put him down so he could run to the tall man.

That’s how I found out his name. Simple, discrete, direct. Jo-el. Suits him.

He immediately hugged the boy, kissing the top of his head. Ellie was at the side getting color back on her face, unshed tears in her eyes when she noticed me.

“I know you,” she started and I panicked a little. I don’t know why, I wasn’t doing anything weird, but something about breaking their bubble made me uncomfortable.

Joel looked up from his nephew’s face and furrowed his brows, not in a “who the fuck are you?” kinda way, more of a “wait, I do know you too”.

“Hm, yeah, I work at the arcade down the block,” I said in a monotone, looking into Ellie’s eyes, ignoring Joel’s.

“Are you safe? All good?” Joel asked in a soft tone, much softer than I imagined a man like him could do, to the kid.

“Yes,” the toddler replied searching for my hand again. My eyes got to the size of the moon, unaware of how to react.

“Thank you for helping him, we were about to lose our heads searching for him everywhere.” Joel gave me puppy eyes in his dearest manners and every inch of my body heated as he got up, gaining his tall size.

A grown, big man being soft on the edges? The hottest thing I’ve seen and I fucked once Mormon Isaac.

I was ready to get back to my platform when Ellie shared stares with Joel, a language I hadn’t properly been introduced to in my formal education, but I think I can decipher:

Ellie looking straight, then bringing her eyebrows up - say something, Joel

Joel furrowing his heavy eyebrows and pouting a little, before looking towards the exit - no, let’s go home

Ellie rolling eyes and siding it in my direction real quick - she is right here, do something

Joel setting his jaw and looking directly at Ellie - I said no, let’s go home

Ellie narrowing her eyes and then nodding to the toddler - how did we got him back?

Joel glancing at his nephew, Ellie, and me before pouting a little bigger - okay, fine, you’re so annoying

Mind you I’m not a linguist in any way, I might have translated something wrong since I’m not fluent and the whole scene lasted no more than two seconds. I was highly confused when he put his hand on the toddler’s shoulder (mind you, who was still holding my hand) and cleared his throat.

“Are you hungry? It would be a pleasure having you with us,” he proposed in his most southern polite voice. I laughed a little, stupid bitch.

“That’s not… Necessary. Really. It’s okay!” I replied quickly, awkwardly trying to walk back. The kid’s hand grip got stronger.

“C’mon, stay. It’s the minimum I can do,” Joel insisted with another puppy eye.

“I used to g-get lost too, in the mall, you know? It’s okay! It’s just a full circle moment, but thank you!” I lied.

I was a prodigious child, way too smart for my age, and for sure not roaming around in a suburban mall. My parents weren’t strict, but they had a very clear vision of what was cool and what was trashy. Read in my room, go to museums and cinema exhibitions of foreign movies that I was able to watch without the subtitles? Hot and cool. Go to the mall, watch blockbuster movies, and eat a burger at the food court? Suburban and trashy. I got lost once at a library, though.

“He won’t stop giving you the puppy eye until you accept, c’mon,” Ellie replied gaining a double glare from me and Joel, who – in all truth – was still giving me puppy eyes.

“Some pizza wouldn’t hurt,” I said with an awkward lopsided smile.

The duo stared at each other again, now that I had more familiarity with the language I think I can get better translations:

Ellie shotting up her eyebrows and inclining her head towards the front of her body - told ya, old man

Joel sighing before eyeing the food court direction - lead the way, brat

“Let’s go, Luke,” Ellie grabbed the kid’s hand from mine and started to walk.

“One sec,” I said before taking off my vest and placing it in the security guard’s hand, who looked at me puzzled. I would find a way out of trouble with the manager later on. “Okay, all good!”

“So… The arcade and the mall, you must be good with teenagers,” Joel started nodding in Ellie’s direction. He said in such a genuine matter that it took me back, not a single harsh reply in my brain.

“Not really, it’s more of a coincidence. I try to avoid them a little, though. They could shatter me with one comment.” I laughed a little, trying to break the awkwardness between us. He smirked a bit.

“I get it, Ellie likes to remind me that I’m no longer hip. Do people still use this word?” He asked chewing his cheek and I chuckled.

“I’m not sure. Maybe no? We are very much 20th-century material,” he smiled.

Do I like to think it was because I hinted that I was old enough to drink, so old enough to fuck him? Yes. But I regretted it the moment that thought appeared in my head.

Don’t get me wrong Tess, even if I’m a slut I wasn’t trying to fuck Joel Miller when we got alone. It’s more of an old habit, a second skin. When I got the conclusion men were little needy bitches, I got laid often.

You pretend to be stupid and praise them on their big brain. Maybe they prefer it when you are a hopeless girl who needs a strong man to solve something that your small body can’t. Or, the classic, they just want a shy girl who has no idea of how pretty she is and is more than grateful that he is there to show her.

Men are simple creatures. The more you make yourself smaller and dumber, the more they want you. Nobody wants an opinionated woman who knows her worth, that isn’t sexy. It’s a sin being a woman who is not sexy all the time.

Something inside of me knew Joel wasn’t trying to pick me up. He was just an older guy with a life set and a family of his own, he wanted to be nice to the girl who helped his nephew.

“Your nephew is a sweet kid, very affectionate,” I said in a genuine tone, trying to clear a bit of my head.

“A good kid too, smart for his age. He will be three in a couple of days,” Joel's face lightened up talking about the toddler. I wondered if someone’s face ever got so bright thinking of me.

“Growing up fast?” I asked trying to keep up, I don’t much about raising kids except that parents feel like everything is way too fast.

“Yes, but there is a long way until he becomes a petulant teenager like Ellie,” he joked with tenderness.

“She is cool, just the right amount of sassy in her bones. Her friends too, they are well-behaved down the arcade,” I said thinking about the times I saw her with other weird teenagers there.

“Really? Good to know her friends treat her well, she needs that,” he replied quickly. I lost him for a second and couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“Why?” Could I sugarcoat my curiosity a bit? Of course, but my initial awkwardness was opening space for a comfortable conversation and I’m bad at calculating risk.

“We just moved, right before the school year. I’m from Austin, but Ellie no, she is from Boston. We lived there for a few years before moving back. Is tough to be the new kid, you know.”

The soft around the edges came back. I started to wonder how I never noticed Ellie’s accent, but it made sense.

“And why did you come back? Work?” I asked, again, without thinking further. Joel scratched his scruff while pondering how much detail he would give me.

“Boston got too heavy. Bad memories, you know? She needed a fresh start and I was missing the Texas sun.” My eyes searched for a ring on his hand for the first time, but there was nothing to see. Maybe a bad divorce? A widow?

“In that case, welcome home, cowboy,” I said mimicking holding a tip of a cowboy hat to him, who smiled a bit.

When we arrived at the food court, we went straight to the only pizza option available, the fucking Pizza Hut. The mall is shitty, if you haven’t noticed it yet Tess.

Ellie ordered everyone’s pizza as if she were introducing us to a new, exotic cuisine. Joel got amused, looking at her adoringly while petting his nephew's curls. I allowed myself to imagine what if my weekends were filled with this domestic view, if I would be happy to live such a mundane life and got surprised when the response was positive.

“Will you finally tell me who The Renegade is?” Ellie joked with a hint of truth. Joel rolled his eyes in good fun.

“A lady never tells,” I winked at her and Joel grinned with a little laugh. You see Tess, when you make a joke this is how people react, not scribbling something down their therapist's notepad. Rude as fuck.

The pizza could be better, but the company was more than good. I found myself laughing at Ellie’s puns, making comments about the arcade regulars. Joel tried to make me laugh a few times too, like an old friend. I felt good, felt normal instead of the constant weight on my shoulders.

At some point during our little chit-chat, I furrowed my eyebrows.

“How did Luke get lost? You haven’t told me that.” I questioned both of them, Ellie’s cheeks got pink. Joel made a motion for her to speak.

“Joel went inside a store and asked me to wait a little with Luke, to keep an eye on him for a second while he got something. I know,” she looked into his eyes with a guilty stare, “that I must hold Luke’s hand whenever we’re in a public place. I didn’t, started to look into a window shop thinking he was by my side.”

“It’s okay, you were holding tight to his hand on our way here,” Joel assured her.

If that man couldn’t get any hotter, he didn’t hold the weight of her mistakes against her. I swear that I don’t have daddy issues, I might have a Peter Pan syndrome or shit like that, but my dad was quite nice for a stuck-up guy. I’m not comparing dads, I’m comparing how to deal with delicate hearts: in that couple of hours I got to know a little more of them, I saw how Joel didn’t hold Ellie back, tried to shape her into something he wanted. Even inside of my own body I can’t do that with myself, be this level of kind.

I think Joel got me when it crossed my mind that I could fuck up and, maybe, he would still like me. I wouldn’t be a bitch, a bad girl to him. I would be just a person who made a mistake and he would still be there. What if my main kink is to be loved?

He paid for the meal, of course, a southern gentleman. I said goodbye, hinting I would be there when Ellie decided to show up at the arcade and she replied with a “hell yeah”. They left and I sighed, so light as if I had a spa day, but nope, just a good time with nice people. I might be lonely.

In a snap of fingers, I met the mall manager who questioned me why I wasn’t at the platform. The weight of the world came back on my shoulders, I reasoned that I was tired and wanted to go home as fast as possible.

“A kid got lost and I went to help him find his family. I think the slutty outfit might be a better idea next time, this shit is too complex,” I said shrugging before flashing him again with my boobs for a few seconds.

What? I had a nice meal with a good family, but I’m still not a saint.

Anyway, life followed its course. Saw Ellie sometimes at the arcade, Joel would greet me by name whenever he was there to pick her up, all good and normal. I told you, this is not your meet-cute story.

If you are wondering, yes, I saw Mormon Isaac the next day after the missing kid incident. Holy Sunday, couldn’t skip.

I don’t have exactly a wardrobe that screams “SLUT!”, but the vibe isn’t exactly good southern mormon girl. Jesus just wasn’t my thing growing up. My parents were a little paranoid about the christians, we avoided them at all cost. I had to thrift some stuff to attend Sunday preaching with Mormon Isaac.

It was so boring, every single Sunday. Thank God the pastor would scream from time to time on his speech, the only thing waking me up. Mormon Isaac, strangely as it seems, wouldn’t try to grab me a little here and there while we were inside the church.

“Are you okay?” I asked him once when he audibly swallowed when I touched the inside of his thigh when the pastor was speaking, or whatever.

“Yes. Please, not here, sweetheart,” he urged me and I rolled my eyes.

Every. Fucking. Sunday. For. Four. Months. He would only give me a peck after church, always in front of his family, if his parents weren’t making lunch he would drive me home and that’s it.

Sometimes we would do other stuff too. He would take me to the cinema to see a movie, always under PG-13 though. I would try to jack him off and he wouldn’t allow me, I once tried to give him a blowjob and he said he was waiting for the right time. We fucked rough in the staff room and now I was a pervert, make it make some sense.

You can imagine my surprise when, in the middle of an afternoon, Mormon Isaac appeared from nowhere at the arcade.

“Guess whose four-month anniversary is today?” He asked me while holding a box. I have no idea how to pray, but I know that I prayed for every single entity in the sky for a surprise break up as a git.

“Wow, lucky me,” I said with a fake smile. If my job was boring that afternoon, it was about to become much more boring.

From the corner, I saw Ellie picking up her backpack from the floor as I opened the box. A deep voice greeted my name and I got cold.

Mormon Isaac was looking at me like he was the best boyfriend in the whole world. Joel appeared to be curious, getting close to the glass display I call my office.

“I didn’t know you were religious,” he said looking at the bible in my hands. A fucking bible. Damn you, Mormon Isaac.

“She attends the Sunday preach every week,” Mormon Isaac promptly corrected with his most polite smile. I wanted to die.

“Thank you very much, I will cherish it.” I smiled back, looking into Joel’s eyes with a silent rescue request when Mormon Isaac glanced at his phone.

“See you tomorrow-,” he started and I cut it before he could finish that thought.

“For the bible study, yes. It will be a pleasure,” I said faking another smile, Joel looked so confused and amused by the whole situation. Mormon Isaac grinned so hard that I thought he was about to cum in his pants.

“That’s fantastic! I will let my mom know!” He said before grabbing his phone and walking out, leaving me and Joel behind.

I sighed and dropped my head into my arms, right at the bible. Joel's laugh, I sound I grew to adore, echoed and I glanced up from my arms.

“What the hell was that?” He asked in good fun, looking at how distressed I was.

“You do me a favor: never, I said never, open the door for a Jeovah’s witness. I accepted one preach from this mormon customer and now he plays rehab with me,” I said avoiding the fact that the said mormon was my boyfriend on the following day we would meet for a date.

“I will. Do you need an excuse for bible study?” He asked me looking somewhere behind me like he was forming a plan inside his head, both hands on my glass display while Ellie waited.

“Does it involve religion or any kind of cult?” I half-joked. Half because if hot Joel said he wanted me to go to any kind of religious ceremony I would have another panic attack and leave.

Joel looked to Ellie, who looked back at him and both nodded. This time I can’t translate, sorry, I’m still in the process of getting the language's grammatical structure.

“Tomorrow is Luke’s birthday. Surprise party. You don’t want to break the poor’s kid heart, c’mon,” Ellie said faking seriousness. Joel nodded back.

“There will be food?” Ellie confirmed. “Booze?”

“Do you like beer?” Joel asked, also in fake seriousness. Except that his death stare made me fucking wet.

“Pass me your phone so I can give you my number, text me the address,” I turned my palm up to grab the said phone, he smirked and Ellie laughed.

And this, Tess, is how I met Joel, got my little heart full of him just to let him slip into my life. What can I say? I never wanted to save a horse more than the moment he lassoed me.

I think you have more than enough material for our next session already. I will give you that yes, I speak more about what is inside my head like this. I think it might be because it feels strangely similar to submitting a paper, you know how much I love being the teacher’s pet.

Don’t forget: I can’t fall in love with this guy,

The Renegade

P.S. In case it isn’t obvious, I don’t have daddy issues. I DON’T. I know what it looks like, but I don’t have it. Don’t even try.

next chapter

#joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x original character #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the renegade series

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wasjustred · 1 year

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A Lesson in Trust - Larissa Weems x f!Reader

Summary: Larissa comes to your rescue.

Pairing(s): Larissa Weems x femprof!Reader

Warnings: Mention of drugs, alcohol, self-victim blaming

Word Count: ~2.8k

Author’s Note: Another little ditty for you all based on a sentence prompt that can be found here! Totally self-indulgent but I hope y’all enjoy lmaooo ♡ (un-beta-ed!) ╱ AO3

“Hey, I’m sorry––I know it’s really late, but… I didn’t know who else to call.”

You feel like pure shit, phoning your boss at one in the morning on a Friday night, crossing every professional boundary you know one line at a time, shivering against the outside bricks of a nightclub downtown. The lethargy in Larissa’s voice is clear from the moment she picks up (which surprises you in and of itself): Gravelly, low, delayed. Hot if you hadn’t just rudely torn her from a deep sleep. You had fought yourself pretty hard on the topic of dialing her up, but as your limbs got lighter and your head a little hazier, your ego gave in and surrendered to reason.

“Y/N? ‘s everythin’ alright?” She mumbles into the receiver, the distant sound of rustling sheets and the click of a lamp switch carrying in the background. You purse your lips in an attempt to keep the embarrassment and guilt at bay; it’s rallying at the gates and feels a helluva lot like drink-induced nausea.

“I’m sorry, I just, uhm––.. I just think somebody slipped something in my drink, and I’m, uh, I’m on my own, and I was wondering if you could––if you’d be willing to pick me up?” The words are jumbled and slurred in some instances, drawn out ‘s’s, but you’re clear enough that Larissa immediately perks up on the other end. You shiver against a harsh gust of wind and lean harder into the wall as you await - dread - the concern that’s bound to color each of her words.

Instead, she’s firm and commanding: “Everything’s going to be okay, I promise. Just tell me where you are, okay? And I’ll come and get you right this second.” It takes you a minute between processing her response and checking the front of the club for a name or marker, but you eventually present what information you have and she confirms she’ll be there soon. You could cry, really, not at her willingness to come to your rescue but at the harsh reality that you’re helpless and feel like a child in almost every regard.

Larissa strongarms you into staying on the phone with her as she drives––says she doesn’t want anything to happen in the time it takes her to get to you, as ‘grim as it sounds’. It’s the least you can do, so you ease yourself down into a crouching position on the side of the building and wrap one arm around your knees, the other fitting the phone snugly to your ear. The music pulses from inside, leaking out into the real world every so often as a group of girls or handsy couple stumble through the door towards the end of their night; you can feel the vibrations on the ground beneath you and shudder at the sensation, already struggling to ward off the dizziness that’s quickly made itself home within you.

“Are you still there?”

“Mhm, ‘m here.” Forming sounds, words, takes all the energy out of you. Your eyelids are fighting a losing battle against the call to sleep, and each sharp intake of breath you take to keep yourself awake and aware marks another minute on the clock. You hate feeling vulnerable. You hate that Larissa’s going to see you like this. You hate that you couldn’t protect yourself, but the feeling of free-falling through the asphalt is winning out over the agitation.

Tomorrow’s problem, then.

“I’m here… Ah, I see you. Just one second, my love.” The line disconnects as you seek out her headlights, no choice but to gloss over the pet name as your thoughts swim, convoluted and fractured. Everything feels weightless. Your phone isn’t your phone. It slips from your hand the same second you recognize Larissa’s hair, down in this late hour and curling past her shoulders. An angel.

“Thank you s’ much,” you rasp out when she reaches you, barely supporting yourself against the brick wall in your crouched position. She kneels and steadies your frame as you begin to slump forward.

“Oh, darling… You’re safe, I’ve got you, okay? Can you walk?” Larissa knows better based on the image in front of her - lolling, unfocused - but asks anyway before hooking one arm beneath your knees and the other around your back. She lifts you with an ease you didn’t expect, but you’re far too out of it to comment, mustering what little strength and wherewithal you have to tuck your head against her shoulder.

“Shit,” she mumbles, stooping down once more and struggling for a moment before she’s upright again with your phone clutched between two fingers. You feel like you’re floating as Larissa walks off towards her car with a steady hold on you. The world is swaying––no, she’s swaying? She’s lowering you into the passenger seat and the car is stationary but it feels like you’re going fifteen miles a minute as she buckles you in, chin balanced on your clavicle.

“There we go.” She slips behind the wheel a moment later and begins the drive back to Nevermore without another word. If you were more yourself, you’d have noticed her occasional, worried glances in your direction, her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, the string of obscenities she’s mumbling under her breath, cursing the powers that be. You’d be far more ashamed than you are, slumped in her passenger seat.

The rest of the night passes in a confused blur: One second you’re pulling up to the Academy, the next you’re in the main hall, then Larissa’s quarters, then her bed as she carefully undresses you. She covers you as best as she knows how in an effort to preserve your dignity, painfully aware that you’re not there, not really. Suddenly the lights are out, and she’s pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and then the door’s cracked but she’s gone, and the weight of exhaustion mixed with something else is dragging you deep into the depths of slumber.

You don’t dream during the night. You’re asleep and it’s black and then you’re awake and the sun is bursting through the curtains unabated. When you sit up the faint sense of intoxication floods through your limbs, all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes. You’re sober, you think, but your body disagrees and is quick to make its point: You wobble when your feet hit the ground, and you’re forced to steady yourself against the mattress before you can straighten out to your full height and take stock.

Larissa’s bedroom is a masterclass in opulence, dripping in chiffon and satin, complemented by ornate golden fixtures on the walls and windows, beautifully worn furniture that matches her consistent air of class. You’re reminded in your appreciation that you’re here because last night you–––––––

You hiss against the memory and shove the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping to rub the images away. You should’ve known better, should’ve been more careful, should’ve gone with someone else or a group and not by yourself like you did. It was stupid. Irresponsible. Shameful. Instead of basking in Larissa’s bedroom a second more, you stalk towards the door and push out into the hall,

only to knock straight against Larissa’s front.

Oh, fuck.

She ‘oof’s airily at the force and clasps your shoulders in her hands to keep you both remaining upright, confusion washed over her features. She’s already made up for the day, hair perfectly coifed and lips a veritable shade of red. The image of you two side-by-side is almost laughable if you weren’t so distraught over the idea of your boss - your kind, lovely, attractive boss - handling you at your most vulnerable: Larissa is the picture of professionalism, and you’re swimming in what you assume is one of her old school t-shirts and a pair of shorts tied tight at the waist, which is barely visible beneath the hem of the shirt, feet bare and hair tangled.

“I was just coming to check on you––how are you feeling?” Her gaze is soft, words softer. She rests a tentative hand on your forearm and you evade her eyes, desperately shrugging off the feeling of incapability that immediately overtakes you.

“I’m–I’m fine. Uhm, thank you, for helping me last night. You shouldn’t have had to do that, I realize how inappropriate that was.” If you could bring yourself to meet Larissa’s gaze, you’d be privy to the swiftness with which her expression morphs from one of caring to one of bewilderment.

“I hardly think answering a call to help from one of my employees is inappropriate, Y/N.” Curiouser than the rest of this - the shame and the discomfort - is how your insides bristle wildly at the idea that Larissa was only acting in her capacity as an employer. Somehow, the idea makes things much, much worse. You expect that some delusional part of you hoped the aggravation you felt at having called her would have subsided in some part if she admitted to coming to your aid as a friend, a–––well, a someone who cares for you as a person and not just as a worker.

“Right. Well, thank you again, Principal Weems. I’m indefinitely beholden to you.” You brush past her harsher than you mean to but don’t dare stop to apologize, making for where you hope her door may be so that you can escape to your own quarters. You just need space to breathe, to get out of her clothes, to reasonably and philosophically beat your psyche down into a pulp for being so reckless––––

“Y/N, stop,” Larissa commands, her voice suddenly full and forceful in the otherwise quiet space. By gods do you want to continue right out the door but your feet disobey you, freezing somewhere between the hall and what looks to be a sitting room. You don’t turn to look at her. Instead, you listen with bated breath as she approaches from behind, taking slow deliberate steps towards you. When she reaches you, evident by the stunted sound of footsteps and that unmistakable feeling of being loomed over, she rests a hand on your shoulder. Gently still, Larissa ushers you to face her. And once you do, she grasps your chin ever so slightly and tilts it up so that you have no choice but to meet her eye.

“I’m glad you called me. I’m glad you trusted that I’d come. And I came because I care about you, do you understand? Not just because you’re one of my professors but because you’re important to me, Larissa––not ‘Principal Weems’.” Her eyes are searching and you’re leaning into her touch despite the humiliation building within you. The humiliation brings tears with it, burning and quick to fall. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, darling.” Her thumbs brush away the stray tears as your face scrunches in hopes of curbing the waterworks.

She’s too kind.

“I should’ve never put myself in that position. It was so––it was such a childish mistake. How the hell am I supposed to teach and protect my students if I can’t even protect myself? It’s embarrassing!” Your volume grows with your frustration but Larissa doesn’t bat an eye, instead guiding you towards one of the loveseats in her sitting room. She sits you down and kneels before you, hands balanced on your knees.

“No, Y/N. You’re wrong,” she insists, ducking her head to meet your gaze. “It is not your fault that there are awful people in the world who go out of their way to corrupt it. Nor does it mean you can’t protect your students; I have the utmost confidence that should the situation call for it, you’d do everything in your power to keep our Nevermore family safe. And I trust you’d succeed.” She pauses to wipe away another escaping tear, squeezing your knee. “There’s no one I’d rather have next to me watching over our students, hm? This does not change that, not in the slightest.”

Her tone is firm but compassionate, slanted by a tinge of anger at how one night has forced you to question your worth. You take a few moments to work through her words, subtly nodding as you piece it all together from start to end. It was out of your hands; you’re okay; your students are safe with you; you’re safe with Larissa. She picks herself up and slides back down next to you on the cushions as you ponder, and readjusts so that the hand closest to you can rub small, soothing circles along your back.

“... thank you. I needed to hear that.” The smile she gives you is a warm one, pleased with the shift in your line of thinking. Her hand moves further until it rests at your shoulder and then she’s turning, turning until she’s wrapped you in a tight hug, burying her face into the crook of your neck as you allow yourself to melt into her.

“I care about you very much, Y/N. It’s important to me that you know that.” For the first time this morning, Larissa’s voice is timid. You press yourself into her skin as far as you can, almost molded like a funny amalgamation of three-dimensional puzzle pieces on her couch, and squeeze.

“I know. I know. I care about you, too.” You bite your tongue before anything else can slip through unfiltered, like the way your heart thrums a million miles a minute when she smiles at you, or how the simplest things about her - her coffee order, how she greets students in the halls, the look she always gets when she watches everybody else enjoy an event she organized - makes you want to wrap her up and never let go. The sentiment stands all the same.

You finally release each other after a a couple minutes of comfortable silence, content to just breathe each other’s air and savor what little time remains in the morning before weekend duty calls. When you do part, Larissa’s eyes are glassy, and a track of bare skin beginning from the corner of her eye to the tip of her chin gives her away.

“Are you alright?” The sudden reversal in your roles makes her chuckle as you look her over, eyes wide.

“Yes, I am. I’m just happy is all.” She stops you in your tracks with that, and you have to remind yourself to manually breathe when she smiles at you, expression so unbearably fond. The urge to kiss her in this moment is overpowering; it takes everything within you not to throw yourself into it when her eyes fall to your lips, something akin to yearning there. You both inch closer - nearly impossible given you’re already wrapped up in each other - and duck your heads together as if in a conspiracy, brushing noses, sighing into the fall as––

“Principal Weems? Are you in there?”

There. The obligatory interruption of your shared contentedness. You have to laugh, and Larissa shoots you a lighthearted stare that tells you to shut it as she turns towards the door, yelling out.

“Just a moment!” She returns her attention to you, pliant in your hands, and shakes her head. “Whoever’s up there,” her eyes flit up towards the ceiling, gesturing towards the heavens, “has got a bloody dreadful sense of humor, haven’t they?” You giggle and move to fix a strand of hair behind her ear, shrugging.

“What’s a couple more hours of waiting, huh?” An eternity, really. Larissa rolls her eyes, loosening the hold she has on you begrudgingly.

“I suppose you’re right, although I’m certainly not happy about it.” A snort escapes you as you push yourself up off of the couch, reaching out a hand for her to do the same. When she does follow suit, it’s with a smile that leaves you breathless and hopeful for more, standing over you in a meaningful silence that warms you both to the core. Another knock sounds, this time apparently impatient. “Oh, Christ. Alright, go hide. I’m not finished with you.”

As you scamper off towards her bedroom to evade whoever’s on the other side of the door, Larissa pulls you in for one last hug, however brief. How it escaped you all morning you don’t know, but you’re abruptly thrust into the lingering scent of her perfume, floral and clean, undeniably her. It’s a scent you doubt you’ll escape now that you know it in this context, wrapped in her arms, in her sitting room, a couple walls away from a confession.

When she releases you, you press a kiss to her cheek and quickly dash away, clamping a hand over your mouth when she hisses ‘not fair!’ at your retreating form.

Whoever’s knocking at her door will surely have hell to pay.

#i’m half asleep rn but i think it makes sense??#feel free to put lil requests in my inbox 🥰🫶🏼#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x f!reader #principal weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa weems imagine #larissa weems x female reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #principal weems imagine #wasjustred #* queue won’t tell a soul .ᐟ

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silvervioletvalentine · 10 months

Text

🖤!I knew you were trouble when you walked in!🖤

Pairing: Auston Matthews x model + rivals sister Cherrie!

Word count: 13k. I have a problem. I know ok. I just can’t write short oneshots. I’ve tried lmfao

Summary: in which he knew she was trouble since the very first time he saw her in the stands, cursing out his name after he had accidentally (on purpose) broken her brothers nose on the ice during a heated game. Three years of pining later and finally , she stumbles into his hotel drunk and as mouthy as ever. He really couldn’t resist. She may have been trouble, but she was worth it all.

Warnings: like none? Just fluff I think. A little bit of angst with her brother (who I totally made up because I can) when he finds out. Confident , bitchy Cherrie that won’t make it easy for Auston. And Auston just being a major simp. That’s it.As always lemme know what u think please. First time writing for auston soooo , lemme know if u like this and if I should write for him again! I’m thinking of maybe writing for mitch and maybe barzal too. Anyways.. bye bye!! Xoxo

It was nearly midnight by the time that Cherrie had managed to stumble her way back to her hotel , head spinning and limping a little , for reasons she had no clue to as why she was exactly , eyes hazy as she hummed along to a Taylor swift song playing in her head.

She thought that she was handling herself pretty damn fine, like the independent adult that she was.

She kind of impressed with herself for getting back to the hotel without , A: injuring herself , or B, calling either an ex , or her whiny brother who had done nothing but get on her nerves for the last couple of hours. Hence the reason why she has left the club early in the first place, because if she had to head him complain one more time about how 'it wasn't fair, that ref was clearly a maples fan!' And hear him curse out every players name, in a absolutely foul mood after losing against them.

She felt like she was going to go insane , and maybe slightly more mean than usual . Because she was her fathers daughter after all and the mean, anger issues that she tried to bury down kept crawling back up each time he whined again, just staring blankly at his face and wishing that he would shut the hell up and let her enjoy her vodka lime peace.

Was she being a little bit of a bitch by not being more sympathetic to her brother , who was so clearly upset after a losing game? Yes. Obviously .

But did she care? Absolutely not because as far as she saw it, you won some and you lost some. As simple as that. And they had just stood absolutely no chance against them that night , they had been on fire from the very start.

Even she could admit that they had been just too good, not to her brothers face or course, she thought that praising his rival team might have been a little too far , even for her.

He was a little sensitive after all and she didn't want to see her brother cry. They would just be awkward and she had no doubt that he would be a little snitch and tell dad.

Hence why she had snuck out of the club the moment her brother had been distracted , telling herself that she could see him some other time. Even though he was leaving early in the morning to a flight back home, Cherrie would send a text. Maybe.

If she lived to see the next day that was, feeling herself stumble a little too hard. Somehow managing to knock herself into the couch in the reception , letting out a mix between a startled laugh and Yelp as she went tumbling down.

"Fucks sake!" She groaned , just managing to catch herself in time, clinging to the back of the couch to steady herself . Head bowed as she let out a small drunken giggle, vision swimming for a long moment.

So lost in her own head, and trying not to face plant on the floor, that she hasn't noticed the eyes that had been watching her since she first stumbled out of the cab and into the hotel without any grace , always loud and dramatic as ever in her scene.

Because if she had noticed said eyes. And just who those eyes belonged to, she might have turned back around and decided that she was better off joining her moody brother at the club again after all.

Because what she wasn't expecting to hear between her giggling and muttering along of her Taylor swift song, was a voice call over to her in amusement , scaring the absolute shit out of her.

"I see you're about as steady on your feet as your bambi brother is." Auston Matthews said to her, leaning casually against the vending machine as he watched her panic.

Head snapping over to him in shock , mascara smudged eyes going wide as she realised to just who she was faced with. The same hockey player that had smashed her brother into the boards and to the ice more times that she could count.

She stiffened , trying to straighten herself back up and not seem like she was totally shit faced. A not so very convincing act as she hiccuped while doing so .

Glaring at him for referring to the way her brother had once , or twice, lost his foot while on the ice, somehow managing to trip over his own two skates in front of everyone. Hence the bambi nickname.

"And I see you're as much of an asshole as you look like." It was a weak comeback but come on, she was like, ten vodka shots in.

She squinted to focus her eyes on him, frowning slightly as she took in the sight of Auston standing there in a oversized sweater and basketball shorts, slides on his feet and a beanie pulled low over his head.

Not bad. Her drunken brain said. Not my usual type but he's got a little something.

And he was currently smirking right back at her , his eyes running over her body in her little back dress , gaze lingering at her stumbling feet for a moment before looking back up again

He laughed lightly "I think I look pretty good." He replied , grinning like a joker as he struck a pose at her.

Trying to replicate one that he had seen her do in one of her shoots before . One hand on the vending machine and the other on his hip as he duck pouted at her mockingly.

She scoffed, ever the mean girl. Flicking her hair over her shoulder with a flair , narrowing her eyes at him the best that she could in her drunken state.

But something about matthews just got underneath her skin. Maybe it was the casual way that he was talking to her, as though they were friends who had talked plenty before . As though he wasn't her brothers rival , as though he hasn't managed to break her brothers nose and pride before.

Like he wasn't public enemy one to her right then.

Well, he was supposed to be. And her brother would no doubt be expecting her to give Auston shit and make him pay .

But well, vodka and ...come on, she was defending him.

Albeit a little weakly but she was. That was something wasn't it?

"Whoever told you that is a liar. Perhaps you should surround yourself with honest peope instead." She snapped back at him, feeling the start of a headache come on. Or maybe it was the onset of the hangover that she would be having tomorrow.

Either way. She just wanted to go to bed and sleep it off, not talk to some cocky hockey player that her brother hated in her hotel.

Auston scoffed in amusement , gaze never leaving her face. taken aback by how she managed to look so pretty, even when she was glaring at him like she was , eyes glassy and lipstick smudged.

A hot, drunken mess.

"Like you?" He resorted back quickly without missing a beat.

"and are you honest or just a mean little bitch?" He braced himself . Kind of expecting a slap.

He didn't know her after all, didn't know what the line was or what she bantered like with others . It was risky move but come on, he had Cherrie Valentine in front of him, mouth just as quick witted and mean as he knew she was. He couldn't help himself. This was a one off opportunity.

The only time he ever caught glimpses of her was on billboards and magazines, or in the stands at games they played against her brother , where he would see her shouting and screaming insults and curses at them. Ever the passionate woman.

And he wasn't insane enough to approach her then, no matter how much he wanted to, he knew he would have gotten his skates shoved up his ass, and not just by her brother either.

She was the scary one in his opinion. A loudmouth with no filter and no mercy, and he just knew that she made grown men cry and had their tears in her morning tea.

She was a nightmare and a daydream rolled into one fine, beautiful woman. And well, Auston was just a man. So sue him if he wanted to talk to her a little... wind her up and watch her bite back.

Cherrie could only looked at him silently , fighting back the grin she wanted to let out with everything in her.

Telling herself that it didn't matter if she thought it was funny , he was still the enemy. He didn't deserve to hear her laugh.

So she soldiered on and doubled down on her glare .

Seeing this Auston let out a laugh, motioning to the vending machine that he was leaning on.

"Want some candy? You look like you could use some." He said lightly , the smirk never leaving his lips.

She huffed "fuck you!" She spat back at him .

He just looked her up and down "no thanks. Not while your drunk and missing a heel." He told her casually, nodding down to her feet that she kept stumbling over.

And huh. She looked down at her feet and noticed that one heel was in fact missing.

He was right. What the fuck?

She didn't reply. Pride keeping her from doing so. Instead she pulled off the other heel and tossed it aside too, briefly wondering when the hell she had lost the other one. If she was to place her bets , she would guess the cab ride back from the club. That seemed plausible.

She slowly stumbled over to the vending machine , stomach grumbling as she looked at all the snacks and drinks inside . Realising that she hasn't had anything since those cheesy nachos before the game.

She side eyed Auston who was still smirking to himself , no longer looking at her as he got himself some Reece cups from the machine. Just waiting patiently.

She gave in far too quickly , pride gone.

"I want a chocolate bar and some sprite." She tells him firmly , tapping at the glass to what she wanted . Like she earned it.

Like this was a totally normal thing to do. Demanding chocolate bars from her brothers hockey rival. This was not how she saw her night ending at all .

Auston snorted "not even a please?" He muttered in amusement getting more change out anyway. He wasn't about to tell her no.

Not in any universe.

Cherrie just narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms over her chest as she leant tiredly against the side of the machine . Mostly so it could hold her body weight up, fighting back a yawn.

"I'm a black belt in karate." She lets him know wisely.

Auston eyes her, laughed lightly , then punched in the numbers to get her the chocolate bar and the bottle of sprite . Chucking to himself as he did so.

"Good to know." He muttered amused. Handing them to her. Watching as she quickly took the chocolate bar then shoved the drink back into his hands, not even looking at him as she told him 'to hold it.'

Sighing contently as she shoved a piece of the chocolate into her mouth, eyes fluttering closed for a moment in bliss . "S'nice." She slurred. Having another piece.

"Can I have some?" He asked.

She glared quickly "touch my chocolate and I'll rip your fingers off." She warned him seriously . "Asshole." She then added in a mutter just because she could.

Auston laughed , uncapping the lid on the drink and carefully handing it to her so she could take a sip. Hand hovering underneath her chin in case she spilled it, she was that drunk. He was more than amused.

She gulped it down and Auston shook his head, moving the bottle away from her lips carefully as she panted, swallowing it quickly.

"Not so quick! You don't want to make yourself sick." He scolded her.

She grumbled "don't tell me what to do." Before yawning loudly as the vodka and tiredness finally caught up with her.

That was her excuse for why she let Auston steer her to the elevator; and why she told him which floor and room number she was in. Leaning tiredly against his side as he tapped his fingers against her shoulder lightly , supporting her waist while she continued to munch on a piece of chocolate lazily .

He looked down at her, heart racing in his chest . So close that he could count the freckles on her nose , realising then that the pictures really weren't like the real thing at all. She was even more beautiful up close. It was unreal and Auston had to remind himself how to breathe normally , not wanting to be weird.

So he looked at her and his heart skipped a beat? Totally normal behaviour. He convinced himself easily.

"Enjoy the game tonight?" He couldn't help but tease . Having seen the way she had shot to her feet and cursed his name when he had pushed her brother against the boards again , he had even winked at her when he skated away.

Because he was a little shit like that and he had been trying to get her attention for a long time.

And unfortunately for him the only way to do so was to push her brother around at games and watch her get riled up. She was really creative with her insults when she spitting mad, Auston thought that the rage made her look even more sexy. Her eyes just lit a spark.

Head tilting up, cheek still pressed against his shoulder as she glared at him lazily "we'll get you next time." She promised.

Auston had to laugh "I don't think so. But bambi tried. Bless him." He joked. Getting a slap in the gut in return, he gasped.

Laughing loudly "ow! Good to know who the stronger Valentine is!" He quipped .

Cherrie just groaned wondering what was wrong with him. But she still let him lead her out of the elevator as it dinged, feeling his arm slide around her back to support her as she stumbled to her hotel room door with him by her side.

Swiping open the door, she lingered for a moment hesitating in going in.

Auston suddenly falling quite as he looked back at her, swallowing , mouth running dry.

"Well..goodnight-" she muttered lamely about to head inside and sleep this weird night off.

But it got even weirder as she watched Auston get uncharacteristically nervous. His fingers tugging at the ends of his hair as he muttered her name to get her to wait .

He cleared his throat a little awkwardly, eyes darting away from hers for a moment "are you going to be here long?" He quickly added "in Toronto." Not wanting to have to wait till the next game in months time to see her again.

Cherrie frowned a little, wondering why he was asking then nodded her head warily . "Yeah." She found herself telling him "I'm here for the next week for some shoots. I have a rented apartment to go to tomorrow."

He pursed his lips, barely hiding his excited grin, nodding along like he knew this already .

"I live like half an hour away from here." He told her casually . Shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking on the Balls of his feet like a teenager nervous about asking out their crush.

She looked at him strangely , letting out a small confused laugh. "Then why are you in a hotel?"

He simply shrugged and tried not to think about why he wanted to make her laugh again. Of all the things that he could do and say to see her smile.

"It's just nice to get out of the house sometimes." He said.

Cherrie just looked at him, then shook her head in amusement . "You're so weird matthews."

He shrugged again, confidence coming back in full swing.

"Come to a pottery class with me tomorrow." He more told her then asked. But hey, at least he got the words out. Though they sounded a lot smoother and charming in his head.

Cherrie did laugh loudly this time, looking at him like he was insane . Unable to believe what he was doing, what he was asking.

Because she wasn't stupid but she couldn't figure out why he was going out of his way, at midnight , to do it at all.

He was her brothers enemy. She had seen the two brawl More times than she could remember, had seen the way Auston always deliberately made him a target. Had to hear her brother curse his name to hell and back each time, Cherrie sometimes doing the same.

Because hockey was a passionate sport and if her brother even found out that she was standing there, taking to Auston Matthews in her hotel room , drunk at midnight. He Would have a stroke, she had no doubt .

She told him so , as though Auston didn't already know what he was trying to get himself into.

"My brother will kill you." She muttered, eyes on his. He hadn't looked away from her once yet.

He just smirked and muttered teasingly "over pottery? A bit of an over reaction but.."

Cherrie inhaled sharply and shook her head at him, not knowing whether to be amused or annoyed. Maybe a bit of both.

"I know what you're doing." She tells him, leaning against her doorframe lazily.

Seeing the way his eyes flicker down to her mocking smile, notices the way he inhales a little too deeply , before his eyes flicker back up to meet her own again.

Cockily , he hummed "maybe. But I'm not hearing a no so...." He trailed off with a grin, pleased with himself .

He backed away from her door with a small laugh "so I'll come pick you in the morning." He continued to casually tell her, testing his luck.

Because he would beat himself up forever if he didn't at least try. This was a once in a million chance, he wasn't going to waste it.

"Say...around eleven?" He looked at her hopefully.

And a hopeful Auston Matthews reminded her of a puppy. Eyes wide and smile giddy , head tilting a little too. And well, she loved puppy's. And she was drunk and she was...

She was running out of excuses.

So she said yes. Then shut the door in his face. Unable to see the way he let out a loud breath of relief , fist punching the air in glee.

It was weird when he came to pick her up the next morning, there was no denying it. She was on edge and cranky and hungover , utterly grumpy and scowling at him when she got into his car like she would rather be anywhere else.

Auston looked at her grumpy face , oversized sunglasses and laughed lightly . "Don't you look like sunshine." He teased before passing her a Starbucks coffee and a muffin.

And Cherrie just looked down at them in amazement , then back over to him silently . Speechless , because what the fuck was going on?

And like the emotionally constipated grown child that she was, she decided to go the route of her usual communication and told him in a mutter "fuck you."

Because she didn't want to question the butterflies in her stomach or why she was struggling not to look at his side profile in the glowing sun as they drove.

He didn't take offence . Instead he just snorted a giggle and muttered "so charming." Then he nodded towards his phone on the dashboard and told her easily "pick something to listen to. Or we could just sit in silence..." he teased, laughing again when she quickly reached for his phone and pulled up Spotify.

She clicked on his playlists and scrolled through the songs , pausing as she saw a familiar theme.

Blinking down at his phone in disbelief "you listen to Taylor? There's like..all the eras.. lover, red, bad blood ..." she looked over at him curiously .

Mathews just grinned over at her briefly before focusing back on the road "course I do. She rocks. My favourites been evermore lately." He told her casually . Pretending not to see the look on her face, pretending like he didn't want to each out and touch her pretty face.

Cherrie swallowed then , blinking down at her chocolate muffin in disbelief . "It's my favourite too." Then she clicked on you need to calm Down. Because holy shit did she need to.

Her heart was racing as fast as her mind was, side eyeing Auston the whole ride there as he sang along to every song. Nudging her arm annoyingly until

she was singing along with him too.

Her brother was going to murder her if he ever found out. Was all she could think in defeat. Bobbing her head to the music , ignoring the way matthews couldn't stop sending her glances and smiling at her every other minute.

She was getting pretty good at pretending.

Half an hour later and Cherrie was huffing , face scrunched up in misery as she clung at the fucked up looking piece of clay in her hands. Sat at the desk in front of the pottery wheel, a strangled sound escaping her in stress , as her attempts of making a vase of some sort collapsed on her again.

"I can't fucking do this shit." She cursed out in frustration , making Auston glance over at her from where he been serenely enjoying himself, clay perfectly in shape as he watched her struggle in vague amusement. Even pulling out his phone to take a candid photo of the model glaring down at the clay like it had just killed her own puppy.

"Calm down. Take a deep breath babe." He advised her patiently.

Nudging her shoulder with his, he ignored her hiss of 'don't call me babe.' Simply because he was close enough to see the way her cheeks coloured at as he called her it.

He tried not to grin like a lovesick idiot, instead he gently cupped his hands around her own on the wheel, helping her.

She went quite as he hovered around her, swallowing thickly as she looked down at their hands on her fucked up piece of clay.

"What we aiming for?" He asked while admiring the collection of rings covering her fingers.

It was something he had noticed about her quickly , she was always wearing some type of jewellery , necklaces , earrings , bracelets and rings. Even if she was wearing sweats out, she still had to wear them.

She exhaled quietly and let him guide her without moving away "was going for a vase but maybe just something that doesn't fall down is more realistic." She said answered .

And he helped her achieve that. With a smile on his face the whole time and a more reluctant one on her own. But he still took it for a win.

Then after they were baked in the oven and cooled down, they got down to painting them, sat beside Auston at the table , painting her pottery a simple light green colour.

"What's yours gonna be?" She asked him curiously . Eyeing the small dish shaped pot he had made, he was holding it gently as he delicately painted it blue, with hearts all over it. His brush strokes gentle and precise, taking it seriously .

"It's gonna be a trinket dish for all your pretty jewellery." He murmured to her casually , finishing off another small heart. Secretly painting his initials in it too.

Cherrie just fell silent again, just looking at him. Stomach a whole damn zoo.

Fuck. She thought with a sigh. She was so fucked.

"Thanks. That's..." she didn't know what to say.

Flinching a little when he reached over to take her hand in his, smoothly sliding off her mood ring , grinning at her as he put in the small dish.

Letting out a pleased hum seeing that it fit in just fine , "sweet? Kind?" He supplied to her with a smirk, sliding her ring onto his own finger. Clenching them to watch the colours change as it heated ahinst his skin. Wondered what the colour meant . He took a good guess, wasn't too hard.

Cherrie just sighed and watched him play with her ring on his finger, no plans to give it back.

So she took the cap from ontop of his head and placed it on her own, a theif for a thief. Watching in Amusement as he quickly ran his hand through his hair self consciously , frowning at her.

She frowned back.

Then he broke out into a soft laugh, his eyes lingering on her as he murmured to her quietly "ya know , you're very pretty." It was an understatement.

She was so fucking beautiful that his stomach hurt, but he felt like saying that would scare her away so soon. And he didn't want that.

Confident as she was, she just hummed and nodded her head in agreement . "I know." She was a model for a reason after all.

Auston laughed, nudging her arms . Enjoying the way she scolded at him when he ended up knocking the tiny paintbrush out of her hand. Huffing at him as she picked it back up again, fixing where it had smudged on the pottery.

"It's your turn to tell me how pretty I am too." Auston joked.

She huffed out a mean little laugh , not even looking away from her pottery . "I'm not lying to you matthews. Sorry." She didn't sound very sorry at all.

He didn't say anything . Just sighing dramatically instead as he went back to finishing off painting his too, making Cherrie lift her head to look at him with a frown.

Side eyeing him quietly , she shifted uneasily in her seat. Taking in his soft sweatshirt and vintage jeans , face as soft as the night before when he couldn't look away from her then either .

But now that she thought about it, he had always looked at her that way . Even when she was cursing him out for breaking her brothers nose during a game from behind the barrier , he always looked at her. For her.

So she huffed reluctantly and muttered quietly "you're eyes are alright I guess." Flushing darkly when he let out a startled laugh .

Looking back at her with a wide grin on his face , utterly amused by her inability to just be nice.

But flattery for someone she liked wasn't in her dna, she just bullied them instead. It was much easier. No matter how childish it was.

She never claimed to be mature anyways.

Emotionally constipated . Her friends joked.

Just reasonable and honest. She called herself .

"Alright eyes?" He was giggling hysterically now. Snorting even as he placed his chin in his hand, gazing over at her in amusement. .

"Wow. You're such a charmer . How do you have so many ex's?" He asked her while grinning .

Cherrie just looked at him blandly , then pointed at her face , then pointed down to her chest.

Auston followed her finger and hummed long and hard, getting what she was referring to. Both were very gifted and beautiful after all.

"Ah. Okay." He said nodding casually , his eyes lingering on her chest that was pushing out of her tight tank top that she was wearing.

He wondered "are they real?" He blurted out, genuinely curious. They looked too perfect to be real.

Cherrie eyes widened in offence , scoffing at him. "of course they're real! My back pain Says fuck you by the way." She shot back at him. Though she was amused by the way he couldn't keep his thoughts in his head at all.

He winced apologetically "sorry. They just look so perfect. They're very nice." He said while grinning at her , before sneaking another not so subtle glance at her tits.

They were great. 10000/10.

She rolled her eyes at him but she was hiding a smile , shaking her head . "Shut up." She muttered .

Ignoring the way he shuffled his chair closer to her own, hiking up his muttered jokes and judgey comments about other people there , just to see her smile again.

Day2 .

The next day Cherrie ended up looking down at the caller Id in her phone in disbelief as it rang suddenly , Love or your Life written across the screen as she answered it with a amused scoff

"Are you serious Matthews? You stole my phone to put your number in it while I went to the toilet?" She said instead of hello. Amused despite herself.

She found herself getting up from the couch, playing with her hair as she listened to him talk. Practically feeling his stupid grin through the phone.

"Are you really that surprised?" He replied .

She grinned to herself , dropping her hair and fidgeting with her bottom lip instead .

Heart fluttering "I shouldn't be but you're kinda looking a bit desperate now matthews." She teased him.

He gasped dramatically and she had to force herself not to laugh, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much she enjoyed his theatrics.

"I do not! I just want to hang out with you." He told her honestly not finding a need to lie.

He never had with her before and he wasn't going to start now.

She paused in the middle of the room, swallowing .

Then she murmured a soft , confused "why?" Wanting to know why he was trying so hard when he should have known better .

He sighed a little before telling her jokingly "because you told me that I have 'alright eyes' and now I can't stay away.' But it was mostly true. Only his eyes had been on her long before two nights ago.

She didn't say anything so he tried his luck again "can I come over?" He asked her bluntly. Not beating around it.

She scoffed "no." Glancing around her temporary home, she started fluffing up the pillows on the couch despite it.

He huffs "please?" Then he bargained "I'll make you food." Knowing that good food was her soft spot.

She said okay.

The first thing he did when he arrived was hug her, grinning to himself in amusement when she froze up, her arms sticking out to the side like an akward stick man.

Placing his chin on her shoulder as he let out a content sigh, having missed her since the moment she left yesterday.

"What the hell are you doing?" She exclaimed , flustered . Turning her head so she could rest her chin on his chest, frowning up at him, startled. Feeling her heart race in her chest as she caught his smile.

He just hugged her head to his chest, laughing at the annoyed groan that she let out as he held her close.

"Hugging you." He stated the Obvious, amused.

"don't tell me you've never been hugged before babe?" He teased her, giving her another squeeze just because he could.

She finally had enough "get off me!" She huffed , pushing him off her.

Rolling her eyes when he just laughed at her "make me food." She said to distract herself away from the heat rising in her cheeks.

Auston wiggled his eyebrows at her but made his way to small kitchen regardless.

"bossy. Are you this bossy in bed too?" He joked (hoped), winking at her.

She glared at him , lips twitching .

"I will hurt you." She promised him. Then she watched him pull out the items from his canvas bag he had brought with him, smiling when she saw the pasta.

"Don't poison me please. I have the shoot tomorrow and clutching my stomach while vomiting isn't really a good look for me." She tells him. Leaning up against the counter beside him, turning her head to watch him cook for her.

Auston rolled his eyes at her , pulling on her hair and chuckling when she kicked him in return .

"I'm a good cook." He promised her. Plus he had bought the most expensive pasta and pasta sauce that they had in the store, so it better be fucking good.

"You look pretty." He told her again. Just because he could. Admiring her with a soft Blush on his cheeks that he hoped she didn't see .

And again, she just nodded her head with a small grin. Confidence never wavering "I know."

Then she glanced at his smart, waffle material , white shirt and mumbled quietly "I like your shirt." And that was a lot coming from her. She didn't just go throwing compliments about .

Auston paused with his hand on the bottle of pasta sauce , surprised.

He shot her another glance, face softening at the way she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Thanks. Meets your approval babe?" He quipped, pleased. Having spent extra time getting ready to make sure that he looked good for her. She was a model after all, fashion was her thing. He wanted to look good beside her.

And he remembered her saying once in an interview that she liked quite luxury on a guy and well, the shirt was $3000. So it couldn't get more luxurious than that. He was glad she liked it. Because you could bet your ass that he was going to go back and boy it in every colour now.

Cherrie hummed a little, pouring herself a glass of wine. "It's nice." Was all she said.

He grinned smugly , ego boosted.

They made casual conversation while the pasta cooked. Moving to the couch when it was done, plates in their laps as they sat side by side, Auston telling her about how he had accidentally knocked out his own teammate once , Cherrie laughing freely bedore her phone rang.

And her whole face dropped as she looked at who was calling her. Immediately putting her plate on the coffee table in front of them with a small gasp, eyes going wide with fear.

"Brother?" He guessed easily. Not bothered at all. Happy to just watch in amusement as she panicked. Still eating his pasta contently . It was fucking good. Not that he had been worried.

Cherrie was not as relaxed "shut the hell up! Don't say a single thing!" She hissed at him , staring down at her phone like her brother could reach through it and see just who she was eating with then.

Auston snickered "scared of your brother?" He teased her. Shuffling closer.

She gave him a look "no. I just don't want you to get your legs broken!" She snapped.

He grinned , placing his hand over his heart mockingly . "Aww you care about me!"

She scoffed "I do not! I'm just a good person and my brother hates you. So shut up!" She couldn't avoid it any longer , picking up her phone like it was the devil.

"Then why did you let me in?" Auston whispered to her smugly. Grinning when he got a middle finger in response.

She totally liked him. He thought gleefully.

Picking up her fork and pushing the pasta to her lips, feeding her another bite while she lied to her brother and told him that she was alone and just watching a movie.

Cherrie glaring at him as he continued to feed her like she was a baby (his baby. His babe.), snickering beneath his breath at the look on her pretty face.

She was incredibly sexy when she was mad.

Auston ended up going to her photoshoot with her the next day, refusing to leave her side. Being incredibly clingy and incredibly obvious but he couldn't care less.

Too busy watching her in awe. Sat on a loose chair as he watched her work her stuff in front of the camera , turning this way and that way as she modelled their clothes.

Well. He sucked in a sharp breath as he watched her walk out of the dressing room in the next set.

He couldn't exactly call what she was wearing clothes.

Considering she wasn't wearing them at all. Instead she had on a pale pink lace bra and thong, hair long and perfectly curled over her shoulder as she turned to look over it at the camera, lips pouted and red.

Auston felt like he might pass out. Wafting at his suddenly too tight shirt with his hand, eyes glued to the way her bare body moved confidently into poses

, this way and that way. On her knees, on her back, just standing their in fucking lace with that god damn smile.

He groaned beneath his breath , sweating. Heart racing as he followed her back into her dressing room when she was done.

Shutting the door behind them with his foot, he leaned against the dresser as he watched her take off the necklace that she was wearing.

"You look so beautiful right now." He told her quietly , eyes never leaving her.

He pulled out his own camera and lifted it up to his eye , taking picture of her as she took off the glittery makeup she was wearing . Breath hitching when she shot him a smile over her shoulder , laughing a little.

"You're like my own personal paparazzi ." She muttered in amusement . Yet she pulled a face at the camera , getting closer to him. Enjoying the attention.

She was made to be in front of the camera after all.

Eventually Setting it aside, he gently lopped his arms around her waist. Throat bobbing as he swallowed . Confidence wavering for a moment as he looked down at the beautiful woman in his arms.

"Can't help it." He murmured back to her quietly , feeling his pants harden as he glanced down at her breasts spilling out in lace. Right there for him to see, chest nearly brushing ahinst his as she moved closer to him.

"You're perfect." He said. Meaning it.

Cherrie sighed, like she knew what was gonna happen next and wasn't going to stop it. He held his breath.

"Matthews?" She hummed .

He let out a strangled breath , fully hard now.

"Yeah?" He breathed out , fingers flexing around her waist as they slid down to grip her lace covered hips instead.

He swallowed again. Mouth ran dry.

She looked at him for a moment , contemplating if it was worth it. If he was worth it.

Then she saw his nervous, hopeful eyes on her. Felt his palms grow sweaty on her hips, felt his hard on pressing into her thigh as he shifted anxiously on his feet.

She was done for. Completely fucked.

So, she thought , she might as well be fucked in best of ways as well.

"This is your chance if you want it." She let him know quietly. Looping her arms around his neck, titling her head to give him a pointed look. Heart racing.

And he did want it. So fucking bad. It was obvious.

He didn't chance her changing her mind.

Just leant his head down and kissed her like he has been wanting to all this time. Humming in relief against her mouth when she quickly kissed him back, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck as she deepened the kiss.

Nudging his nose gently with her own , tasting him, biting down on his bottom lip until he was moaning against her tongue. Hands cupping her face firmly as she pressed his back against the wall behind him.

Then her hands slid beneath his sweatshirt and his fingers took a handful of her ass , squeezing with a lustful groan.

His mind short circuiting when she moved her mouth away from his to kiss down his jaw, then to down his flushed neck instead . Tongue slowly and carefully tracing her name down his throat, making sure he felt every letter, as he laughed breathlessly , eyes blown wide in anticipation and something more than desire . Burning for her completely.

His Heart racing. Unable to believe that it was finally happening between them.

"I kinda feel nervous." He blurted out despite the way his hands were gripping the back of head, threading his fingers through his soft hair as she suddenly knelt down to her knees in front of him and swiftly pulled down his pants , Auston just looking down at her in awe.

Gasping sharply as she confidently gripped him on her warm hand, squeezing him firmly as he swallowed thickly , barely breathing as he watched her through hooded eyes. Feeling like he was living out one of his wet dreams that she was always the star of .

"First time?" She joked slyly , giving him a wink when he just let out a strangled breath , speechless .

Then without another warning , she dropped her head down and got to work on showing him just why she had such a long list of ex lovers , and just why she was one of the most wanted women in the world.

But Auston don't think that anybody wanted her just as much as he did. It really wasn't possible.

Then She fucked him like she was a pornstar and Auston genuinely had to sit down on the couch when it was finally over , his legs shaking and face red as he caught back his breath, sweating and panting loudly as he watched her pull her clothes back on. Feeling like he was in a dream. Never wanting to leave it.

He watched her get ready in silence for a minute. Just taking her in before finally sitting up and joining her in putting his clothes back on, his eyes on her face as she brushed her sex hair into a lazy ponytail , a relaxed stance about her now and Auston felt proud to be the one to put that satisfied , fucked out smile on her face.

He stood up carefully when he was done, slowly approaching her and putting his arms around the back of her neck , burying his face into her shoulder as he hugged her close. Just breathing her in contently.

"Come home with me?" H practically pleaded, voice quiet and hopeful. Never wanting to let her go now.

If he thought that he was In love with her before they had sex, his feelings were much worse now.

He kind of wanted to marry her then. Be her forever. Die for her. That kind of love. It was crazy but so was he.

She sighed quietly , lips twisting as she hesitated for a second "Auston..."

But then she glanced up in the mirror in front of them and caught their reflection, face softening as she saw the way that he was looking at her.

His cheek blushing pressed against her own softly as he swayed them from side to side gently , kissing the corner of her mouth with puppy eyes.

"Please?" He whispered hopefully .

Then he quickly added like it would change her mind "I'll teach you how to knit."

She laughed in disbelief , unable not to. Because what the fuck was wrong with him?

They had fucked and now he wanted to take her home and knit with her? Who did that?

...

She went home with him. Because of course she did.

And Auston ended up knitting her a scarf while she slept soundlessly on his chest, the smile never leaving his face the whole night long .

She was wearing the very same scarf that he made as she used to hide the hickeys he gave her on her neck when her brother facetimed her in a fury the very next day.

"What the hell are you doing Cherrie?" He almost yelled down the phone , looking at her in disbelief "there's photos of you and Auston fucking matthews all over the internet. Want to tell me what that's about?" He demanded to know. Seething.

And she winced .

Not meeting his eyes she sniffed, acting indifferent. Like she wasn't tucked up in his bed right then, in his hoodie and handmade fucking scarf while he baked her cookies in his kitchen because he wanted to.

She felt her heart race with anxiety, guilt hitting her then. "yeah-I er-I bumped into him outside the grocery store." She lied , forgetting for a moment just who she was lying to.

He was her brother for fucks sake. He could see right through her and noticed the way her eyes were wandering , the way she was sat there in a scarf that she wouldn't be seen dead in usually . He wasn't that stupid.

"The photos are in front of a pottery class building Cherrie." He stated bluntly. Not happy at all.

But who would be after seeing pictures of his sister cozying up beside the guy that had humiliated him in the ice more times than he could count?

She laughed abruptly , mentally kicking herself . "Yeah I bumped into him there too." She tried to cover herself but she knew it wasn't working. "Small world eh?" She added sheepishly .

Dalton, her brother, just scoffed angrily .

Glaring down the phone at her and she was so fucking glad that this argument was taking place over FaceTime because she wasn't so sure she could lie to his face in real time. She pierre herself on blunt honesty after all , so lying to him was new and awful .

"I can't believe you! You were laughing and smiling at him Cherrie!" He shouted furious "touching his fucking arm! We hate him , what the hell are you doing?!"

Getting worked up now , anger Inherited , she rolled her eye at him in irritation .

"you hate him! Maybe he isn't so bad!" Seeing his rage she quickly added "off the ice!" Like it would help her case.

It didn't.

Her brother let out a unamused laugh "you're joking!" He couldn't believe it, feeling betrayed because where was his sister who had threatened to break matthews legs after he had hurt him on the ice?

"This guy had broke my nose before Cherrie! Always on my fucking back!"

She looked away from her phone with a frown, swallowing nervously because it was true . Auston liked to terrorise him on the ice, they're was kind denying it. .

"Thats just hockey."she weakly defended.

Her brother then just shook his head in absolute disbelief, unable to believe what he was hearing .

"I don't want you near him Cher. He's a asshole! And this is something that he would do just to piss me off! I know it! Try and get close to you just so he can use it against me on the ice!" He accused . Furious at the very thought.

And Cherrie froze as the first shot of doubt made its way to her head.

Lips parting in a shaky breath as she wondered if perhaps he could be right , getting with his sister would be a really big hit wouldn't it? She would be the name tossed around on the ice, the easy target. All because she liked a boy.

But that couldn't be right. She swallowed .

She had seen the way Auston looked at her, the way his fingers always seemed to itch to be on her skin, even if just a graze. The way his eyes search her face for her reaction whenever he said some stupid joke , the way he huddled closer to her in their walk home as they bitched to each other , judging everybody they passed, snickering like a couple of mean girls.

The way he held onto her and didn't seem to want to let her go. He had went of his way to make every excuse to see her again.

Surely that couldn't be an act just to her back at her brother on the ice?

Right?

He wouldn't be that cruel.

"Just-" she took in a deep breath to gather herself, shaking her head angrily at the phone.

"just shut up alright? I'm not doing anything wrong and neither is he! He's allowed to say hello!"

He had done a lot more than say hello to her but the pot had already been well stirred already, and it was on the verge of boiling over , she didn't want to make it worse.

Dalton looked at her for a moment , saw the way she wouldn't look at her screen to meet his eyes and let out a long sigh, hoping with everything in him That she was being honest .

"Well say goodbye each time then because you don't want him hanging around Cherrie. He's no good." He said.

And Cherrie had to agree there because matthews was no good for her Heart at all.

Once she had finished assuring her brother that she wasn't lying to him, the guilt , the doubt and the anger had her stomping back into his kitchen , heart pounding in her chest .

Glaring at him like he was the problem as she watched him hum happily to the radio as he baked , focused on making her cookies because she had said she needed sugar.

She had meant him. But he had taken it literally and pulled up a recipe and who was she to deny a man that wanted to bake her cookies?

"Auston matthews." She started furiously , more angry at her brother than anything . Pissed off that he thought he could tell her what to do.

Auston paused , hands on the dough as he looked warily over his shoulder at her .

"oh shit. What? Too many almonds?" He wondered , glancing down at his cookies. Hoping to break the scowl on her face.

But it didn't budge , instead she glared harder "are you joking? Am I a joke to you Auston? You think you're funny?" She gritted out, furious and overcome with a sudden insecurity that her brother was right .

Auston frowned, utterly confused as he wondered what could have made her mood dip in the matter of half an hour while she had been 'napping' in his room.

"Sometimes I do." He said cautiously, side eyeing her.

a little amused by how she had stormed into the kitchen with a ball of fire steaming from her ears without any explanation.

"But I think right now you do not." He mumbled sheepishly catching her scathing glare.

She just scoffed angrily "are you just doing this to get back at my brother? Some fucking game?" She demanded to know. Never one to beat around the bush.

He glanced down at the cookies , and frowned even harder. Brain still sluggish from the lack of sleep they had last night , turns out she had an insane amount of stamina once she got started. And she was very competitive too, even between the sheets. His legs were sore and so was his dick.

"Why Am I baking to get back at him? Is he allergic to almonds or something? Cause they're not for him anyways babe." He joked before looking back up and seeing the look on her face.

He quickly wiped his hands in a tea towel as his face softened, realising that this was serious and no laughing matter.

He sighed quietly "no. Of course it isn't. I couldn't care less about your brother." He told her honestly . Meaning it.

All he thought about was her, she was the one that was worried about Dalton. Not him.

She scoffed again "yeah right." She muttered grumpily , arms crossed defensively over her chest as she sulked.

Getting annoyed at her lack of understanding and her shitty character view of him, even after everything, he huffed at her .

Tugging her arms from her chest with a scowl that rivalled her own, knowing that he needed to tell her bluntly how he felt otherwise she wouldn't take the hint at all.

"Is it so hard to believe that I just like you for you Cherrie?" He said to her seriously . The most serious he had ever been with her before. But she needed to know.

He wasn't going to let her stupid brother plant some stupid seed of doubt about him in her mind , when all Auston wanted to do was worship the ground she walked on for the rest of their lives.

And Auston couldn't believe how shocked she looked as she gaped back at him, speechless for a long moment.

Both of them just looking at eachother , Auston with his hands on his hips as he stared her down in exasperation.

Cherrie just in disbelief.

"You like me?" She echoed , cheeks flushing at the incredulous laugh he let out at her shock.

Rolling his eyes at her in amusement "no . I hate your guts ." He deadpanned. Scoffing "don't be so ridiculous. Honestly...you're so lucky that you're so pretty cause you're dumb as shit whe it comes to this stuff." He said bluntly.

She just blinked at him, stunned.

Letting him take her into his arms with a dramatic sigh, arms wrapped around her waist as he grinned down at her in amusement , shaking his head at her.

He kissed the tip of her nose and muttered "I've liked you since the very first time you screamed some very colourful words at me when I accidentally broke your brothers nose that time."

Recalling how his heart had skipped a beat when he had met her furious eyes, his cheeks flushing beneath his mask as he was overcome by all that she was . As angry as she had been. She was incredibly hot when she looked like she wanted to kill him. That didn't help his infatuation at all.

Cherrie felt her mouth run dry, wide eyes staring into his soft ones.

"That was years ago though.." she breathed out, flustered by the softened look on his face then. His heart bare for her to see.

He just shrugged lazily , kissing the side of her face a couple of times as he murmured against her blushing cheek.

"I know. I'm crazy about you." He admitted without any shame . "So imagine how happy I was when I finally bumped into you at the hotel while you were drunk off your ass and missing one shoe?"

She buried her face in his chest, hiding her grin. Wrapping her arms around his waist as she squeezed him with a small frown , overwhelmed .

"Stupid idiot ." She mumbled, kissing over his heart. Bad at feelings. Bad at words.

He laughed loudly , running his fingers through her hair affectionately. Amused "I've just told you I adore you and you call me stupid?" He grinned

"you're so sweet babe." He teased.

She shrugged back at him , giggling a little . "You know exactly what you're getting yourself into with me Auston." She simply replied. Because it was true and she wasn't going to change herself for anybody.

And Auston just nodded his head, serious about it .

"I do. And you're worth all the trouble that you're gonna bring me. Ain't nobody better than you." He told her. Meaning it.

She just let out a light laugh and kissed him before he could see her burning cheeks.

He was worth it as well. He was just as much trouble as she was too after all. He had started this mess.

On the morning that she was supposed to fly back home, Cherrie was saddled with a clingy Auston refusing to let her out of his bed.

Laying like a needy koala on top of her, arms wrapped around her shoulders and legs around her waist, he wasn't letting her move at all. No matter how much she pinched at him or pulled his hair. He just grumbled and held her tighter, pouting .

"Don't leave." He groaned upset , kissing all over her face as she squirmed beneath him, feigning annoyance as though she wasn't Hiding a smile at his affections .

"Why would you want to leave me?!" He whined.

She just huffed, arm lazily wrapped around his shoulder as he clung to her. Stopped her fighting and just stared down at his frowning face in amusement.

She didn't exactly want to go but she couldn't stay forever , she had ...well, she had her apartment back home and..well, no friends but..still.

She had plans. With her brother. She couldn't just stay.

"Auston. I need to get up. My flight is in an hour. My bags are packed. Get off." She shoved at him again half heartedly but he just squished her into the mattress even harder, making her huff for a breath. Cursing his name. "Matthews!"

He groaned "it's baby to you." He muttered frowning up at her with his chin on her chest .

Heart aching at the thought of her leaving him just like that. "And you're bags aren't packed." He told her casually , lips twitching mischievously.

She paused in her struggle to narrow her eyes at him, sighing loudly when she saw the look of a man child trying not to laugh like a naughty child looking back at her.

"I swear to god Auston-" she hissed, looking across the room to where she had left her suitcase earlier. Closing her eyes in disbelief when she noticed that it was open, her clothes no longer nearly packed inside.

Auston just giggled against her chest, sounding smug. "Can't go now cause by the time you repack you'll be too late." He told her lightly , grinning at her glare. Unfazed by it . He just thought it made her look even more hot than she already was.

She smacked the back of his head, hard. Auston gasping as he looked down at her like a wounded puppy , whining her name as he rubbed at his head with a frown.

"Ow!"

She huffed "I can't believe you! What is wrong with you?!" She exclaimed. Looking at him in disbelief.

Auston just shrugged , carelessly . "Wanted you to stay. You've got nothing to do back there anyways. Apart from that runway show but we can fly there together on the day." He said. Having it all planned out. He wasn't planning on letting her go anytime soon.

And Cherrie, Cherrie felt herself give in easily .

Because he was looking at her like...like that. Smiling and kissing at any piece of her skin that he could reach, hope written acrosss his stupid face and she just couldn't do it . Couldn't break his heart.

"Fuck you." She sighed instead .

Then she pushed him off the bed and onto the floor with one giant shove while he was distracted , laughing loudly at the girly scream he let out as he went down.

He laid there, like a starfish for a moment moment .

Blinking up at her with wide eyes and a hopeful grin "is that a yes? You'll stay?" He hoped.

Seeing her crawl back beneath the covers and toss a pillow at him with another 'get fucked.'

He laughed joyfully , whooping loudly "it's a yes!" He yelled excitedly before hurrying to get off the floor, throwing himself back down on the bed to cuddle her, kissing her like there was no tomorrow .

So fucking happy because she wasn't going anyway. She was staying with him. She was his.

Unfortunately between all the fucking, the baking and knitting. The go karting dates and intense games of twister and monopoly , Auston had completely forgot about how he had agreed to hang out with Mitch that Saturday. His friend used to just letting himself in, did just that.

And Auston was too busy with his head buried between her thighs on the twister mat to hear the sound of his door opening and closing , or the footsteps quickly coming towards them.

It wasn't until they heard a girly , shocked scream coming from the doorway that they both jumped apart. Their heads snapping over with wide eyes to see Mitch standing there, his hands covering his eyes as he screamed .

"Oh shit man!" Auston gasped as he quickly pulled up cherries shorts again, glancing down apologetically at her as he helped her sit up. "I forgot you were coming over!"

Mitch scoffed loudly , in shock . "No shit! Oh my god." He groaned in disbelief as he warily pulled his hands away from his eyes , his eyes meting cherries as she glared at him. Mortified.

He glared back at her too because he knew exactly who she was.

"I know you!" He exclaimed , gaping at her. "You called me a bitch boy with no brains like .. a waist of a pretty face twice! After each game!" He accused. Looking at Auston like he was expecting him to be shocked too.

But Auston just snorted as he wiped the back of his mouth with his hand, giggling as he leant his hand to Cherrie.

Only to have her slap it away as she got back up to her feet on her own , crossing her arms over her chest defensively as she looked at his teammate who was looking between the both of them in shock .

"She's called me worse." Auston said amused.

Embarrassed and annoyed, she didn't back down.

Instead she glared back at Mitch and scoffed "you kept calling my brother four legs!" She shot back at him. Because as annoying as Dalton was, he was still her brother and she would defend him from other hockey players with her life.

Mitch rose his brows at her, pulling a face "that's just hockey sweatheart! You didn't hear the things he called me!"

Auston frowned at him , "don't call her that." He muttered. Getting ignored by the both of them.

"I don't care what he called you!"

"I can't believe this!" Mitch looked at Auston in shock "she's the one that you wouldn't shut up about all these years! But she's so mean!" He gasped. Stunned by it all.

Cherrie looked like she was going to hit him, so Auston gently pulled her away.

Patting her back soothingly With a grin on his face, not bothered at all. Too in love and happy to care about anything else other than Cherrie.

"I know." He sighed dreamily "amazing eh?" He said. Grinning down at her like a lovesick idiot.

Mitch just blinked down at him in disbelief.

Then seeing the way Auston Kissed the side of her head and the way she gently hugged his side, fingers lopped through his belt loop, he sighed in defeat. Rubbing his hand over his face in absolute disbelief .

"This serious?" He asked them , hands on his hips like a annoyed father. Looking between the two of them silently.

Cherrie frowned "none of your business" she snapped while Auston just grinned "so serious." He said at the same time. Making them glance at each other, him in amusement while Cherrie just looked exasperated.

"What?" He laughed freely , kissing her head. "It is!"

She eventually nodded with a small sigh , hesitating for a moment before looking at Mitch with a slightly less hostile look on her face.

He was Austin's teammate after all, and it was serious. So she would have to get used to having him around because she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"It is." She agreed. Both her and Mitch just staring each other down.

Then Auston broke the tension by holding up a wooden box and asking them brightly "a game of Jenga anyone?"

What Cherrie hasn't expected when cancelling her hangout with her brother back home, was to have him turn up at her apartment in Toronto a week later without any warning.

Because if she had. Knowing that he was coming over . She wouldn't have let Auston stay over the night before.

Wouldn't have engaged in a rough sex battle for hours on her bed that morning , wouldn't have sent him to the answer the door. Thinking it was postmates with their breakfast that she had ordered.

So poor Auston was a little blindsided as he swung open the door with a happy grin on his face, just in his boxers , covered by cherries pink , silk dressing grown that barley covered her ass never mind his.

Only to be greeted by her brothers murderous face looking back at him on the over side of the door, making Austin's smile quickly slide right back off.

He tended up, shoulders lifting before letting out a akward laugh as he fastened the silk gown a little tighter around his bare chest.

Aware that his appearance screamed 'just got fucked by your sister!' Then. Hickeys littering his neck and chest because she was a little vampire , he ran a hand through his hair . Cringing a little at the awful timing of it all.

Clearing his throat as he tried to act casually , like this was totally normal.

"Oh. Hey man. Fancy seeing you here." He said .

Her just brother glared in fury , then shoved him through the door before cocking his arm back and punching him right in the nose just as Cherrie came running into the room again, in Just his shirt. Looking like sex too.

Auston groaned lowly , laid out on the floor as he clutched his poor throbbing , bleeding nose. Winching in pain "fucking hell! No hello?" He choked out, cupping his nose with a wince .

Cherrie gasping as she quickly knelt beside him, heart pounding in her chest as she glared up at her brother furiously . Quickly pulling off the fabric headband from her hair and holding it against Austin's bleeding nose.

"Dalton! What the hell is wrong with you?!" She shouted at him angrily . Gazing worriedly at Auston who was slowly pushing himself to his feet with her help, his eyes warily glancing at her brother who was red in the face and looking ready to kill.

He glared back at her in fury "don't you even start!" He hissed back at her , feeling betrayed .

"What happened to 'I only said hello?!" He Shouted. Looking like he was going to hit him again.

Auston frowned a little , sniffling as he plugged his aching nose with the fabric . Exhaling heavily "fuck me. That's what I said to you man." He managed to snark, bloody nose and all. Not helping himself at all.

"And don't talk down at her like that." He added quickly with a scowl , telling himself that smacking her brother back wouldn't help at all. In fact that might make her smack him as well. And he don't want that.

She's Worth the trouble. He reminded himself easily , tasting blood in the back of his mouth. It wasn't her fault that her brother was a dick with a mean right hook.

Dalton paced her hallway, hands in his hair as he looked at his sister , hurt by her lying to him .

"I can't believe you lied to me!" He shouted . Upset.

Cherrie let out a cold laugh, motioning towards Austons bloody nose with her hands harshly.

"I lied to you because I knew you would do this!" She screamed back at him. Just as upset. Because this was not how she wanted him to find out but it was too late now and she couldn't take anything with Auston back .

She wouldn't even if she could. She was in too deep now.

He scoffed hatefully, glaring at Auston . "No shit! Your lucky I don't kill him Cherrie! This asshole has broken my nose and concussed me more times than I can remember !" He yelled.

Auston rolled his eyes bitterly , wiping at the drying blood beneath his nose. "Maybe the concussion did some damage then. Stupid ass." He muttered.

Cherrie shot him a look "shut up." She snapped.

He did.

Then she looked at her brother and scolded "and you-I'm a grown ass woman. I can do whatever I like! You don't get to tell me who I get to be with!"

He gasped sharply "be with?!" He looked sick.

Glancing between them again and finally noticing the way Auston stood so close to her, his hand gently pressed to her back for comfort. Cherrie checking worriedly at his bruising nose every two seconds while he murmured to her that he was okay.

He felt his stomach drop "oh no." He almost whined in misery . "no. No! Please tell me this is just some stupid fucking faze! You can't be-" he looked helplessly between them "you don't actually like him do you?!" He demanded to know.

Cherrie went silent. Feeling two pairs of eyes on her, Auston frowning a little when she didn't say a thing at all.

Taking it upon himself to let him know "she does. This isn't some meaningless hook up man."

Dalton glared at him angrily "you. Shut up. You don't get to speak."

"I'll say what I want to asshole." He snapped back at him. Done with his shit. Because who did he think he was to barge in and ruin their day like this?

Her brother swallowed . Eyes widening because that sounded too much like something his sister would say for comfort.

He groaned again. "No. Cherrie come on..." he said pleadingly . Looking at her for the truth.

She swallowed thickly, glanced at Austin's frowning face as he fidgeted with his fingers and sighed in defeat .

"He's-" she breathed in nervously, not good with feelings at all. She felt sick. "I'm staying in Toronto for a while Dalton." She ended up saying instead .

He just looked back at her, confused "why?" Then he glanced at Auston and scowled "for him?" He scoffed.

She ignored his pettiness and nodded her head, reaching her hand behind her back and letting Auston intertwine their fingers.

Finding comfort in it as he gently squeezed the palm of her hand three times, shuffling closer to her till their sides were pressed together. Wincing as she took a glance up to see his bloody nose that was already bruising, having no doubt that it would look even worse tomorrow.

"For myself." She muttered then swallowed "and Auston. For the both of us. Because I want to."

Her brother shook his head "I don't get it." He said genuinely.

Glaring at him "why my sister? Cause if this is just some sick fucking game to mess with her- I will fucking kill you-" he started to threaten him, protective of her as always.

And Auston had enough . Just wanting to wash his aching nose and eat some food with Cherrie in bed, before taking her to the movies just like he had planned before he brother had barged in.

His plans weren't going to change , so he needed to set him straight now before he did what his gut was screaming at him to do and punched his stupid ass back.

"Shut up dick face." He finally spat losing his patience. "I'm doing this because I fucking love your sister alright? I've been in love with her for years so you don't get to come in here and accuse me of shit when you don't fucking know shit at all!" He snarled, picking up a cushion from the couch and hauling it at his head instead .

It went silent. Air tense. Her brother slowly looking down to the cushion that bounced onto the floor after hitting him, while Cherrie just gaped at him in shock. Gasping.

Heart pounding In Her chest as she murmured tearfully "you're in love with me?" Tugging at his hand to get him to look at her again .

Auston did. Face softening as he took in her tears eyes and flushed cheeks. Rolling his eyes at her with a small laugh , exhausted and his nose stinging like a bitch.

"Duh." He said with a sigh while cupping her face in his hands , giving her a little shake in amusement.

"thought I made it obvious. But I forgot that you're a little dumb when it comes to love." He said.

"Fuck you." She sniffled while leaning into him , grinning tearfully as he fondly pinched her cheek.

Auston smirked at her a little , "you love me too right?" He checked. Confidence wavering for a split second when she didn't immediately say it back.

But he had nothing to worry about because she snorted, then pinched his side and told him straight "I am so in love with you , you stupid asshole!" Before kissing him.

Auston laughing breathlessly against her mouth. Getting lost in her, relief filling his chest know that her knew she felt the same .

I mean. He had a feeling that she did but still, it was nice to hear it verbally. It Settled any doubt and now he wanted to buy a ring.

They only pulled away when her brother loudly cleared his throat, their faces flauhing, having forgotten that he was even there. Auston giving him a awkward grin when he met his glaring eyes.

"I'm going to beat your ass at the next game." Was all he muttered in defeat knowing that he has no say in this . She loved him after all.

Tossing his bag aside and stomping down the hallway to find the spare room, needing a long minute to take on the fact that his sister was in love with his rival. And his rival was so obviously , sickeningly in love with her too . He kind of wanted to die.

Auston just scoffed, wrapping his arms around cherrrie as he watched him wander away. Feeling smug, he replied "after that hit. You better watch your back!"

Making Cherrie slap his side with a glare "behave." She warned. Amused.

But it was Auston. And he was a little shit , so he also called out to him loudly before he could reach the bedroom door.

"Oh! And I'm taking you're sister out to see the movies later and you're not coming!"

Her brother yelled back "fuck you! I don't want to go anywhere with your stupid ass anyways!"

Auston scoffed "yeah well this stupid is ass is going to marry your sister. So better get used to it brother in law!" He really couldn't Help himself at all. It was just too easy.

The only answer he got was a strangled noise from him and the slamming of the door behind him.

His chuckling quickly fading as he turned around to be faced with Cherrie, arms crossed over her chest as she shook her head at him, unimpressed with him winding her brother up even more.

"What?" He muttered with a smirk.

Wrapping his arm around her neck and nudging his nose gently against her own in mirth "it's true. You like diamonds babe?"

She just sighed in exasperation and kissed him to shut him up. But he got the message loud and clear.

She totally wanted a big diamond . He had seen those rings on her fingers. She wasn't going to be cheap at all. He grinned into the kiss, lit with happiness from Within.

It only took, like three fucking years. But Totally worth the trouble . And the bloody nose.

Because the mouthy, mean girl was finally his.

#auston matthews imagine #auston matthews oneshot #auston matthews fic #nhl oneshot #nhl fic #nhl imagine #ice hockey imagine #hockey oneshot #ice hockey oneshot

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bluelocksource · 9 months

Text

Yukimiya Kenyū’s trivia (source: twt & Egoist Bible).

☆ Character's colour: Red orange.

☆ Weapons: Dribbling and gyro shoot.

☆ Nickname: ‘1on1 Strongest Prince’.

☆ Birthday: 28th April.

☆ Current age: 18 (3rd year of high school)

☆ Zodiac: Taurus.

☆ Birthplace: Miyazaki Prefecture.

☆ Family: Mother. Father. Himself.

☆ Current height: 184 cm.

☆ Dominant foot: Right foot.

☆ Visual acuity: Not good, need glasses.

☆ Blood type: O.

☆ Starts playing football: At age 7 (suggested by his mother).

☆ Personal 50M run record: 5.91 seconds.

☆ Team before joining BLUE LOCK: Soranin/ Kūnin High School Soccer Club.

☆ Motto: "Give your all in a single moment."

☆ Favorite food: Blueberries. “They’re good for your eyes.”

☆ Disliked food: Garlic. “I feel like my vision is turning yellow.”

☆ Favorite animal: Penguins. "I think it’s fascinating how they waddle cutely on land but extremely fast when they swim."

☆ Favorite season: Spring. ”Because I like cherry blossoms.”

☆ Favorite football player: Edgar Davids.

☆ Favorite music: ‘Phoenix’ by SEKAI NO OWARI.

☆ Favorite manga: Oyasumi Punpun.

☆ Favorite movie: Evangelion “The older version. Asuka’s sky burial was excellent, wasn’t it?”

☆ Favorite TV show: FOOTxBRAIN (TV Tokyo).

☆ Favorite celebrity: Yo Yoshida. “There’s something pleasant about a cool woman.”

☆ Favorite brand: Oakley (goggle brand).

☆ Ideal type: Someone who smiles a lot and watches over him.

☆ Hobby: Modelling.

☆ Mushroom shoots vs Bamboo shoots: Mushroom. “Because of its cute shape.”

☆ What goes best with rice : Shirasu. "Pickled egg and green onion shirasu rice are delicious. Why don’t you try it?"

☆ What makes him happy: Warm support.

☆ What makes him upset: “Someone beat me in 1on1.”

☆ What he thinks his strength is: The most competitive person in the world, and strict with himself.

☆ What he thinks his weakness is: “I am too strict with myself and not interested in other people’s business.”

☆ Favorite/Best subject: Science, Japanese, P.E.

☆ Dislike/weak subject: Art. “Drawing makes my eyes tired.”

☆ What made him cry recently: “I won’t tell you. It’s embarrassing.”

☆ Usual sleeping time: 8 hours.

☆ What he usually ends up buying from convenience store: Hot eye mask. “To warm my eyes.”

☆ Place he washes first when taking a bath: His forehead hairlines.

☆ Fixation: With ephemeral things like cherry blossoms, sparklers, etc.

☆ Number of chocolates received from previous Valentine: “I didn’t count. I only ate the ones that arrived at my agency, there’s lots of them.”

☆ At what age he experiences first love: At age 10. “With my friend’s 16-year-old sister.”

☆ The first time he got confessed to: “My friend’s older sister kissed me on the forehead. Got embarrassed and ran away.”

☆ What will he do if received 100 million yen: “I don't know. I’m not interested in money.”

☆ At what age he stops receiving presents from Santa: At age 12. “Santa seems to be excluding the middle school students.”

☆ What was his last wish from Santa: Running glasses.

☆ How he spent his holiday: Reading. “I like learning about the lives of famous people.”

☆ What will he do during his last day on Earth: “Thanking my parents for bringing me into this world.”

note: i want to apologize in advance for any mistake made in the translation!

#blue lock #yukimiya kenyuu #yukimiya kenyu #trivia: yukimiya kenyuu #bluelocksource #trivia: profile #trivia #our translation

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harrywavycurly · 5 months

Note

How did Eddie and Malibu!Barbie spend the holidays? I miss them💕

Hiii babes!! Awe I miss them too!! I hope you enjoy these conversations between them two while opening up some gifts and spending time at the club house!💖

-find everything Eddie x Barbie!Reader here✨

“Merry Christmas Eddie!” “Uhm…thanks?” “What? You don’t like it?” “It’s…a swimsuit…that says Barbie on it and it’s…pink.” “Isn’t it cute?” “Yeah it’s…so cute…why did you get this for me?” “Because you’re always saying I don’t have enough swimsuits that cover my body and this one is a one piece so it covers everything!” “Oh…okay but why…did you give it to me and not just keep it for yourself?” “Because I thought it would make you happy to see it…duh.” “Did…did you just duh me? Who taught you the word duh?” “Steve.” “Figures.” “Did you look at the bottom of the bag?” “I’m not wearing these…” “why? We can match! I just know you’re going to look so good in them!” “I don’t wear pink swim trunks…and especially ones that say Barbie’s favorite on the ass…” “Not even one time just so we can take a picture together?” “One time…maybe…but sure as fuck no pictures.” “You’re such a Scrooge.” “No more hanging out with Steve.”

“What is this?” “Chapstick…for your lips…” “oh thank you Eddie! I love it!…oh it smells like cherries!” “You’re always bitching about dry lips from being in the sun all day so…there you go..now you can stop stealing mine.” “You’re the best…do I get to go to the Christmas party tonight?” “Only if you promise not to cry after having too many margaritas…” “I…will promise to try my best..not to cry…” “I’ll accept that…go get dressed then.” “I am dressed?” “Please don’t start with me it’s Christmas and I’m trying to be all holly and…jolly and shit.” “Eddie this is a perfectly good skirt and top…I have to wear it tonight…it’s my elf outfit.” “Does it past the test?” “You and that stupid test….yes it passed the test…you can’t see anything when I bend over…” “fine…but you’re gonna freeze your little elf ass off on the bike.”

“What the fuck did you do to the clubhouse…” “isn’t it festive? I added lights to that old bike over there since you said I couldn’t put a tree up.” “Who helped you-” “Steve! I was just showing Eddie all our decorations!” “You helped her Harrington?” “Uh I may have…strung a strand of lights…or two…” “Steve is the best he’s always helping me with things.” “Oh really? What all does he help you with?” “I think I hear Dustin calling my name…merry Christmas Malibu!” “Malibu?” “That’s what he calls me…will you make me a drink please? I’m going to go see what Max is doing.” “Why does he call you that?” “Because it’s a nickname.” “Why can’t he call you Barbie like everyone else?” “Because he doesn’t wanna be like everyone else? I figured you’d understand that…” “I don’t like it.” “Oh don’t be such a grinch Eddie…now how about a drink? Please?” “Yeah yeah I’ll go make you a damn drink…”

#Malibu convos #biker!eddie #biker!eddie x Malibu Barbie!reader #eddie Munson x Barbie!reader #eddie munson x bimbo!reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #biker!eddie x you #eddie munson series #Eddie Munson #stranger things au #my little dungeon master baby

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awkwardlyfangirly · 2 years

Note

Would. Would you consider a part two to the dad donnie fic????? Bc I’m crying in the club rn

first of all omgosh i really appreciate u asking this and liking the story it means a lot to me :)) I hope you'll enjoy this part 2!

/////////////

rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction ~ aged up ~ Donatello x pregnant female reader ~ one child, a son named Damian ~ contains references to pregnancy-related nausea and vomiting <3

in which Damian causes a small, accidentally-on-purpose disaster in Donnie's lab. part 2.

/////////////

When you groggily stagger out of Damian’s room in the morning, you glance over at the door to Donnie’s lab. It’s still closed. Soundproofed, lightproofed; you won’t be able to tell if he’s inside without going in. And he won’t like it if you go in.

You poke around the house even though you know he’s in the lab. He’s not in the bathroom, not in the kitchen, not in the bedroom, not in the backyard, not in the office. He’s in the lab.

Still in the lab.

He’s been in there all night, you know. Not sleeping. Just working. Working, working, working, his fingers busy and his eyes twitching.

You bite at your fingernails and go into the kitchen.

Damian’s still asleep, quiet and peaceful in his bed -- he’s always been a good sleeper, even as a little baby.

You walk yourself into the kitchen and turn on the coffeemaker. You don’t drink coffee anymore, yourself, because of the pregnancy, but Donnie still does. Donnie drinks three cups every morning. You tell him he should just get more sleep instead. He says that he’s too busy to sleep. You say that if he stopped drinking so much coffee, he’d probably feel the need to get more sleep. He says why deny the world his genius by sleeping?

You scoop the coffee grounds into the coffeemaker.

Thankfully, the smell of coffee hasn’t started to bother you. If it did, you don’t know what you’d do. Donnie drinks a lot of coffee.

You watch the coffeemaker gurgle and a rush of nausea hits you like a sack full of wet noodles. You whimper loudly and gingerly make your way to the bathroom, where you sweat and dry heave over the toilet for a few minutes until the nausea has passed a bit. Gosh, this baby is making you a lot more sick than Damian ever did.

You groan deeply and cough, but there's nothing inside of you. You curl in pain around the toilet bowl and put your forehead against the disgusting toilet seat itself, just to try to feel something nice for once. It’s cool, and refreshing, but also disgusting. You're disgusted with the toilet seat. You're disgusted with yourself. Gosh, you're disgusted with yourself.

The thought doesn’t help your nausea.

You hear tiny feet pattering into the bathroom, and look up to see your son standing in the doorway. His forehead is crinkled.

“Mommy?” he says.

“Dami,” you say, putting your head back down on the toilet. You breathe hard for a moment.

“Are you okay?” He’s keeping a safe distance.

You hold out a thumbs-up. “Peachy keen, baby.”

He crinkles his forehead and patters away.

You should follow him. To keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t get into any more trouble. But your head is swimming and your mouth is full of sweet sweet sick saliva.

You put your head back down on the toilet seat.

After another few minutes the nausea passes. You stand up slowly. The baby shifts in your stomach. This is new, the shifting, the fluttering; it only started about a couple days ago.

You put a hand on your stomach and the baby kicks again. It’s been getting somewhat stronger and somewhat more active already. More than Damian ever was, at least.

You move to the kitchen, carefully, the nausea still lingering teasingly. Wanna play? it laughs, and you just try to ignore it.

Damian is on the floor, eating star-shaped crackers from his snack cabinet. You sit down next to him, and eat some crackers too.

“Where's Daddy?” Damian asks, quietly, shoving an entire fistful of crackers into his mouth.

“In his lab,” you say, already sick of crackers. You eat the three you still have in your palm and brush the dust off of your hands.

Damian doesn’t respond. You can feel the anxiety radiating off of him.

“Is he mad?” he asks, quietly.

“I don’t know,” you say. He’s definitely mad. But you haven't talked to him since last night. So you still have room to hope.

“He’s mad for sure,” Damian says. He stands up and puts the star crackers back into his snack cabinet. “He hates me now. I hate me too.”

“Dami. He doesn’t hate you.”

“Of course he does. I went into his lab and I crushed his things.”

“But he doesn’t hate you. People do things that make you mad, and things that make you really mad, and really really really mad, but that doesn’t mean that you hate them. It’s a very big thing to hate someone.”

“He hates me. I killed his lab. I killed his machines.”

“Dami -- ”

You’re right. Donnie doesn’t hate his son. He’s just really, really, really mad. He’s in his lab, still repairing his son’s damage from last night. And his wife’s.

His hands are working with the tech, the crushed machinery, the microchips and scrap metal, soldering and repairing and rebuilding. His mind is busy with his wife’s news.

Pregnant.

Another baby. Another baby.

He can barely handle just one baby! Look at what he’s done to him. Look at how he’d screamed at him last night. The hurt and anger in his son’s eyes. And what his wife had said to him -- that Damian had broken his things because he was upset that he wasn’t spending more time with him. Or -- not even ‘not spending enough time with him’. Just ‘not paying enough attention to him.’

Damian is right. Donnie doesn’t pay enough attention to him. He is a bad dad. He is a horrible father. Ugh! Horrible! Horrible! He yells at his son and ignores his son and treats him so badly! Like he doesn’t want him! But he doesn’t!! He doesn’t want a child!! He’d never wanted a child!! And he doesn’t want ANOTHER child!! He’ll be even WORSE with two children, he knows!!

He loves Damian. He does. He really really does. So, so, so much. More than he loves his wife; more than he loves his dad; more than he loves his brothers; more than he loves his lab and all the tech in it, even. But that doesn’t mean that he’s cut out for parenthood, at least not as much as you seem to be. You kiss booboos and brush hair and fly spoonfuls of peas through the air and you just seem to sparkle when you're around children. You just seem to thrive.

Donnie doesn’t.

Not like his wife. Not like his sisters-in-law. Not like his brothers. Not like Leo. No, not like Leo.

Donnie is the odd man out. The weird, cold, odd man out. Look at how stiffly he holds his son. Look at how coldly he speaks to him. Who let this man become a father? Why is he a father?

But Leo? Leo throws his children into the air and blows raspberries on their soft warm bellies and tells bad jokes to them and ruffles their hair in a way that makes them squeal with glee and run back and forth happily. He does it to his own children, and he does it to Donnie's, and Donnie is left staring at the ceiling at night, staring, staring, staring, listening to that emptiness inside of him. Why is he so bad at this? Why is he so bad at this??

A disappointment, he’ll whisper to himself, silently in the dark. You're a disappointment. She doesn’t deserve this. She doesn't deserve you.

And he'll turn his head and look at you, asleep next to him. Your mouth wide open and drooling, your cheeks pressed sloppily against the pillow, and you'll grunt and roll over and whisper "don't take the orange, schmitty, I'm warning you," and then wake up for a moment and grumble angrily and drink an entire glass of water from the bedside table and then fall asleep again, mouth as wide and drooly as ever.

You don’t deserve him.

And he’ll touch the side of your neck and feel your pulse under his fingertips.

You'd grown a child inside your body. A child. A perfect little mixture of him and yourself, and it looked up at Donnie with so much adoration in its tiny eyes and all he could offer it was quantum physics and robot assistants and hurt feelings.

Gosh, he hurt his feelings. He'd say something and Damian would stare silently at him and then he'd find him sitting motionless behind a couch or crying loudly in his mother's arms or just glaring up at him the next time Donnie walked by. Donnie hurt his feelings, the poor baby. And you tried to help, his poor wife. Try to think more about how he’s feeling, you'd suggest, and Donnie would curl his fingers against his shorts and tell you that he was trying. He was trying. He'd never tried so hard in his life.

He is a bad dad. A bad father. You don’t deserve him, and Damian doesn’t deserve him, and your new baby doesn’t deserve him.

So these are the sweet, pleasant thoughts circling through Donnie’s mind as he works on his broken tech with stiff, shaky hands.

He twists a piece of metal too far and it cracks under his gaze. He gasps and slaps his hand down on the table, hard.

Where's his wife?! He misses his wife. No he doesn’t. He’s not good enough for you. He shouldn’t go near you. But he misses you. He misses you. You always manage to calm him down somehow.

He breaks two more pieces of metal before giving up. He digs his fingers into the hard surface of the table and puts his head down for a second. Then he stands up, and leaves the lab, and goes looking for his wife.

You’re walking out of the kitchen, a tumbler of coffee in your hand, and you stop in your tracks when you see him.

“Donnie! Good morning!”

There are dark patches under his eyes and his feet are scuffing and he blinks slowly at you. Oh, he’s been up all night.

You hold out the tumbler.

“This is for you.”

He takes it and sips. It’s been carefully manufactured to be just how he likes it. Just for him. His fingers tighten against the smooth metal.

“Thank you,” he croaks, and clears his voice. It’s been a while since he’s talked.

You smile awkwardly and back up, back into the kitchen.

“You want any breakfast?” you ask. Your voice cracks twice.

“Yeah,” he says, already opening the fridge. He reaches for his flavorless juice, and you lean back against the counter affectionately.

“I love you,” you say. You forgot about the awkwardness of last night for a moment, and then it comes back to you suddenly, and you shut your mouth tightly.

Donnie looks over at you. You're leaning back against the counter, and your stomach is stretching out against the fabric of your shirt, and you're looking at him with wide uncomfortable eyes and so much affection etched into the crease of your eyebrows.

He closes the fridge again and leans against the island, right across from you.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I really do try my best.”

“I know,” you say, softly.

You stand in silence for a moment.

“He thinks you hate him,” you whisper, nodding towards Damian. He’s coloring at the kitchen table.

Donnie stares at his son. He clenches and unclenches his fists.

And then he walks past you to the kitchen table. There are crayons scattered all over the smooth wooden surface. Damian stares at the paper as his dad approaches.

Donnie clears his throat and crouches next to his son.

“Damian?”

“Hm?”

Donnie takes a deep breath and rubs at his arms. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he says. “It… it wasn’t nice.”

“It’s okay,” Damian says. “I’m sorry I went into your lab, and broke your things. It wasn’t nice to do. I was just very mad. And I did something bad because of it.”

“Me too,” Donnie says, awkwardly.

They finally look at each other.

“I’m still mad at you,” Donnie says, “because you did do something you weren’t allowed to, and you did break all my things. But I don’t hate you. And I forgive you.”

“I forgive you,” Damian says, “for yelling.”

Hug it out.

And Donnie awkwardly opens his arms towards his son, and Damian stares for a moment before awkwardly leaning forward to accept the hug.

You squeak in the kitchen and turn in a circle with joy and awkwardness and your baby flutters in your stomach.

“Come feel the baby,” you want to say, but you look at Damian and Donnie still hugging at the kitchen table and you decide that it can wait for a bit.

#rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt donnie x reader #parenthood!#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction #my writing

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alicewritingstories · 7 months

Text

Whumptober Prompt Fills Part 12: Storm

~Also on AO3~

No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.” | Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”

No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.” | Matches | Scars | “Let me see”

Warnings: Explosion, forced to hurt a friend, injury, near-drowning, vomiting

Central character(s): Hyrule, Wild, Wind

The third battle in as many days was going badly. Normally Wild would avoid so many large-scale fights in such a short period of time, but there hadn't been that option this time; Hyrule's era was always a nightmare. The first time they'd been ambushed. The second they'd got wind of an attack on a small settlement and of course they had to intervene. That had pointed them towards this group of monsters blocking a major road.

It was all unavoidable for a group of heroes, but what was also unavoidable was that they were exhausted and short of resources. Wild was down to his last few weapons and his last decent shield as he held the end of a bridge against a moblin. He'd not seen Sky for a worrying length of time. He'd heard a cry of alarm and pain from somewhere nearby he thought might be Legend. But he had to focus on his own fight and continue to keep as much danger as possible away from Wind and Hyrule behind him.

Then he heard a crash of thunder from overhead and swore. The storm had been rumbling around for ages but now it had finally broken at the worst possible moment.

Many of the monsters were wearing metal armor. Most of his friends exclusively used metal weapons.

He had to do what he could.

He backflipped out of the way of a strike from the moblin and swapped his metal sword and shield for a heavy dragonbone club.

"Wind! 'Rule!" he yelled. "Get off the bridge! Now!"

The moblin was closing with him and he swung the club to catch it in the side, making it stumble on the uneven footing of the bridge. Another blow opened a laceration that - of course - spurted black blood.

He heard something behind him starting to fizz with electricity.

Hylia, please, may that not be Hyrule or Wind.

Then there was a flash and an explosion. Wild was blown flat, then the bridge under him gave way and suddenly he was falling. Instinctively, his hand flashed to the slate clipped to his belt and he pulled out his paraglider to catch his fall, looking around as rain started to sheet down around him. The river wasn't far below. The cliffs on either side were sheer.

He could see Wind's pale-blue tunic in the water.

His heart skipped a beat, but Wind was a strong swimmer and as he surfaced and trod water, letting himself be swept along in the strong current, Wild could see he was unhurt. He looked up, saw Wild floating down, and raised a hand in a wave before he started swimming with the current towards a low, rocky outcrop jutting out from the cliff. Wild aimed for it himself and landed neatly, dropping to his knees to help Wind up too.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

The sailor nodded, though he looked winded and was looking around frantically. "Did you see Hyrule come down?" he asked and coughed.

Wild's blood ran cold again. "He was still on the bridge?"

Wind nodded.

Wild stood up and looked around. Hyrule's dark-green and -brown clothes would be easy to miss against dirty water and Wind had been swept a significant distance from the site of the battle. Hyrule might have found somewhere else to get out of the water. He might have been swept further downstream.

If he had been knocked out, he might have sunk and drowned.

If that lightning bolt had directly hit him, he might have been dead before he even hit the water.

Wind had his telescope out and was scanning the banks, his breath coming fast. Wild followed his lead, bringing up the scope on his slate.

"I'll look upstream, you look downstream," he said.

"Right," said Wind.

Wild carefully scanned every inch of the riverbank and the water's surface, beginning on his right and moving slowly to the left. Several times he glimpsed bits of wreckage from the bridge or that had been swept from further up the river.

Then he spotted something pale against one of them. With an exclamation, he zoomed in just in time to see that it was an ear and part of a cheek poking out from a mop of brown-blond curls, just above the water's surface.

"Hyrule!" he cried. He clipped the slate back into place even as he took a flying dive into the water.

The chill and the force of the current were a shock and he blew out a quick breath as he surfaced and started swimming as fast as he could to where he had seen Hyrule. A fleeting thought crossed his mind that he should have changed into his zora armor, but though it would help him swim more quickly and easily it wasn't worth the time it would have taken to change.

He reached Hyrule and grabbed him, pulling him free from the wreckage without too much difficulty. It was sheer luck that the current hadn't carried him away. Then he started swimming back towards where he'd left Wind.

As he went, he was horribly aware that Hyrule was making no attempt to struggle or swim.

Wind was at the water's edge, reaching out a hand, and Wild grabbed it. Wind steadied him as he dragged Hyrule out of the water, scrambled out himself, and bent over the still form, eyes flicking over Hyrule's chest.

It was still.

Wild gasped, the air feeling alien in his lungs as he laid a hand on Hyrule's chest, confirming that there was no movement.

"He- He's not breathing!" he blurted. He didn't know what to do. Hyrule had drowned. If he'd ever known how to revive someone who had drowned, that knowledge had gone the way of everything else he'd lost in the waters of the Shrine of Resurrection. And now Hyrule was… he was…

"Wild, let me see!" snapped Wind, shoving him away with surprising strength. He became aware that Wind had been trying to get past him since he'd got out of the water.

Wind bent over Hyrule, tilting his head back and looking closely at his chest. Then he sealed his mouth over Hyrule's and blew air into him. Again. And again. Wild couldn't see any change. Wind blew into Hyrule's mouth five times, then he laid his clasped hands on Hyrule's chest and leaned down hard. Again and again and again.

"W-Wild," said Wind, breaking him out of his frozen horror. He scrambled back to Wind's side. Wind didn't look up. "See what I'm doing?" he said breathlessly.

"Yes?"

"You can do it better. Heavier than me. Hands where mine are, press hard. About this speed. Ready?"

Wild swallowed hard. "Ready."

"Now!" Wind jumped back. Wild took his place, laid his hands in the middle of Hyrule's sternum, and pressed down hard.

One of Hyrule's ribs audibly cracked. Wild cried out, jerking back, horrified as he realized he'd just broken one of his brother's bones with his bare hands.

"Keep going!" said Wind, his voice almost a scream. "Keep going until I tell you to stop!"

Wild gasped in another breath and kept going, letting out a yelp as he heard another crack.

"It's better than being dead," said Wind. "Now stop!"

Wild froze as Wind blew air into Hyrule's lungs again, then, at a word, he started compressing his chest again.

They repeated the sequence twice more, breaking three more ribs, then Hyrule coughed. Wild didn't think he'd ever heard such a wonderful sound, but when he paused Wind shouted at him again to keep going.

Hyrule coughed again. And again. When Wind blew into his mouth his chest rose and fell.

Then, suddenly, the coughing got stronger and turned to retching. Wild instinctively rolled Hyrule onto his side and held him there, trembling, as he threw up river water onto the rocky ground. Wind had slumped to sit propped up on his hands. Wild couldn't tell if he was crying or if there was only rainwater pouring down his face. He couldn't even tell that about himself.

Hyrule dry-heaved and let out a small, pained whimper.

"Hyrule?" asked Wild, his voice coming out shaky.

Hyrule's eyes flickered open and he whimpered again.

"Hy-Hyrule?" Wind's voice broke on a sob.

"Wha… Wha ha'n'd?" mumbled Hyrule.

As Wild was trying to find words, he heard a familiar voice shouting, "Wild! Wind!"

He looked up and saw Time standing at the top of the cliff, waving. Twilight ran up beside him.

Wild waved back and called, "Hyrule's here too! He's…" I broke five of his ribs. "He's hurt!"

Hyrule mumbled something and went into another coughing fit. Wild bit his lip, looking down at him and combing his fingers gently through his wet hair.

By the time Twilight had let Time down on the end of a rope, Hyrule had stopped coughing so much, though his breathing sounded wet and he was limp in exhaustion, still whimpering faintly with pain. Wild had tried to prop him up, but that made the coughing worse. Wind was glued to his side, eyes flicking from his face to his chest, flinching at every cough.

"What happened?" asked Time, hurrying over to kneel next to them and looking at their faces.

"He drowned," said Wind softly.

Time looked serious. "Hyrule?" He murmured, bending down to look at Hyrule's face. Hyrule looked up with another faint cough.

"OK, let's get you up to dry land," said Time. "Are you two OK here for now?"

Wild and Wind both nodded. Time reached out and patted them both on the shoulder.

"I'll be back soon," he said gently. "Well done, both of you." Then he gathered Hyrule up in his arms and shouted to Twilight to pull him up again.

As soon as he was on his way back up the cliff, Wind let out a whimper, curling in on himself.

"Wind -" Wild put an arm around him, trying to restrain his own panicked trembling as he remembered that image of Hyrule face-down in the water, unmoving.

Wild buried his face in Wild's chest with a muffled sob. Wild hugged him, his own throat tight.

"It… It's OK," he said. "He's going to be OK."

As he spoke, he could hear the cracking of Hyrule's ribs and see the horrible stillness of his chest.

"You saved him," he said. "Wind, you saved his life."

Wind shook his head. "You did. I wasn't strong enough to -"

"No. You saved him." Wild buried his face in the top of Wind's hair. "Thank you. I'm so glad you were here. I had no idea what to do." The words seemed to unleash his own tears. If Wild had been alone, Hyrule would have died in front of him.

Wind was still crying, but he was a little calmer and Wild kept holding him, letting the rain wash over them as they waited for Time to come back for them, trying not to think about what could have been.

#whumptober2023 #no.25 #storm #They're not breathing #no.27 #Let me see #linked universe #fic #explosion tw #near drowning tw #vomiting tw #my fanfic #linked universe whump #lu hyrule #lu wild #lu wind

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breanime · 2 years

Note

(I’m not going to be too greedy so I’ll just send one more)

"EZ," Angel's voice boomed through the wide, open space, but it sounded like a whisper to EZ.

It was hard to hear over the flames.

"EZ, EZ!" Angel ran over to him, and EZ looked over at his big brother, his best friend.

And he deflated.

Angel drew him into his arms, and EZ dropped his head onto his brother's shoulder, "Angel," he croaked out, "Angel--she--she's gone."

Angel clasped his hand on the back of EZ's neck, trying to keep him grounded, trying to keep him from losing himself in his grief. "I know, EZ," he shook his head, "I know, I'm sorry."

"She said," EZ's hands sprung out, gripping onto Angel's kutte, "She said I was too far gone. She said I was a monster..."

Angel swallowed, his heart breaking in his chest. He had heard those words before, and even worse--

--he'd felt them, in his heart, about EZ. About his own brother.

"Tell me what happened," Angel said softly.

EZ didn't look up, "I... I can't lie to her, I could never lie to her," he sobbed, "She knew something was wrong, she knew I had done something..." He shook his head, clinging to Angel even harder now, "She asked what happened, what I had done," he raised his head, and Angel felt tears prick his own eyes as he looked at the reddened eyes of his baby brother, "I couldn't lie to her, Angel. Not after everything I've already done," he shook his head, "I told her about Gabby."

Angel closed his eyes, he couldn't keep looking at his brother, couldn't hide his own emotions when EZ's were so raw.

"I told her that I killed her," EZ went on, his voice shaking, "And the way she looked at me, Angel--she looked at me like... Like she didn't know who I was."

Angel opened his eyes, staring at him. He knew who his brother was.

He wouldn't abandon him.

"She was so mad," EZ went on, tears streaming down his face, "She said I was a monster, she told me never to speak to her again, she--" He shook his head, "I love her so much, Angel."

"I know."

"...But I couldn't let her rat. I couldn't let her hurt the club," EZ's face looked different now, rougher, harder...

...colder.

Angel looked over at EZ's burning trailer, and he felt his heart stop. "EZ," he said slowly, "what did you do?"

EZ stared back at him, and Angel finally noticed the ashes all over his brother's clothes, the smell of gasoline on him, the soot on his clenched fists.

"Ezekiel!" He was yelling now, he pushed EZ by the chest, and EZ fell on his ass, but didn't move to strike back or get up. "What the fuck did you do?!"

EZ stared up at him, his eyes were red from the smoke and crying, and he looked so strange, so different to Angel--

--and yet still so familiar.

Angel looked back at the flaming trailer, and he felt his heart clench again, like a brick was on his chest. "What did you do?"

EZ stared back at him, regret and resolve swimming in his wet eyes.

"What I had to."

************************************************************************

Thank you for reading! Lemme know what you think! This one was angsttttyyyy!

#bre does gif drabbles (again)!#ez reyes x reader #ez reyes imagine #ez reyes #mayans mc

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1lostsoul0fishbowl · 11 months

Text

Hi! I’m Losty. 👋

A few things about me:

My username is a play on the line “we’re just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year” from Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here. Chronic illness has kept me isolated and lonely and that somehow seemed to express the feeling.

I started writing the kind of comfort and fluff I needed in my own life. I started sharing my writing in case anyone else needed some comfort too.

If you ever want to talk, feel free to send me a message or an ask.

My Writing

I’m currently fixated on Stranger Things, and most of my stories take place in a post-s4 alternate universe where Vecna was defeated and everyone (from s4) survived… especially my beloved Chrissy and Eddie, who inspired me to start writing again in the first place.

Work(s) In Progress:

Completed Works:

🏀 Vecna Can Wait (one-shot; 5k wc) No-Vecna AU. Eddie postpones The Cult of Vecna, and the Hellfire Club goes to the championship game.

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 GreatMage: The Series

🪽 Next Time I Fall (24 chapters; 83k wc) The story of how El “Weirdo Girl” Hopper and Gareth “Junior Freak” Emerson went from just friends to something more.

🎶 Next Time I Fall chapter title playlist

🕸️ Lost and Found and Turned Around (7 chapters; 31k wc) In the winter of 1988, El reunites at last with her long lost sister Kali.

🪻 With a Little Help From My Friends (84 chapters; 207k wc)

Covering two years after spring break ‘86, this collection of stories intertwines into a (long) tale of found family, love, support, overcoming challenges, forgiveness, and the power of friendship.

🪷 Father of Mine: The Series

Why Should I Cry For You (one-shot; 3k wc) Eddie’s father briefly reappears in his life. It doesn’t go well.

Bereaved (two-shot; 4k wc) Eddie, helped by his friends, deals with the death of his father.

Into the Shining Sun / Breathing (9 chapters; 21k wc) in Shining Sun, Eddie meets some estranged family he never knew he had. Breathing is a short postscript to chapter 5 of Shining Sun.

Gone Away (8 chapters; 14k wc) a love letter to uncle Wayne, as he takes little Eddie in and learns to care for him.

🌺 55 Fiction Collection

55 stories of 55 words each.

🌸 The Stone (one-shot; 1.5k wc)

Max Mayfield isn’t afraid of anything, except maybe being vulnerable.

🪴 Signed, Sealed, Delivered (one-shot; 2k wc)

A collection of letters written back and forth between Eddie and Chrissy while she’s away at school.

🍁 Darkness Before the Dawn (one-shot; 3k wc)

Hawkins may be right side up again, but Eddie is still upside down. His friends are there to help him through some of his darkest days.

🌴 Tattoos and Trash Talk (one-shot; 1k wc)

Eddie and El bond over being weirdos.

🌼 Not-so-iron Maiden (one-shot; 1k wc)

Max finally has the big brother she’s always wanted.

🌻 the shield and the shepherd (one-shot; 2k wc)

In this no-Vecna AU, Chrissy learns first to stand and then to fly.

Silly Corroded Coffin and Other Assorted Headcanons:

Use the tag below “losty headcanons” to read the collection! 😜

Commissioned Artworks:

Use the tags below “little help: artwork” - “eleverson artwork” - or “stali artwork” to see the collection!

#masterlist #fic masterlist #stranger things fanfic #ao3 writer #losty writes #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #stranger things fanfiction #losty writes: little help #losty writes: shining sun #losty writes: gone away #losty headcanons #ask losty #little help: artwork #losty writes: next time #eleverson artwork #losty writes: lost and found #deleted scene?#stali artwork

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hannahssimblr · 4 months

Text

Chapter One

2013

“Come on, pick it up, let’s go. Go go go!” Our feet thunder over the ground. It’s been so dry this August that the soil has become cracked and dusty, and when I stop to catch my breath, a bead of sweat rolls off the tip of my nose and darkens the ground in front of me. Rosie the border collie runs excited loops around me while I gasp for air. She has ten times more stamina than I do, in fact I’m sure she could complete this run five times and still have energy for another round.

Shane is roaring at me again. “Evie! Come on! Hurry up.” He’s jogging on the spot in a sweat soaked t-shirt, but looks fine, comparatively, to how I’m sure I must look. I lower my elbows to my knees and try to take a deep breath, but it hurts my lungs. “I taste blood.” I say.

“You can do it! Just up to the next field. Get up!”

“I don’t respond well when people shout at me.” I protest between raspy pants. “I know that probably works for you and all but it makes me feel like crying.”

“Alright.” He says. “Let’s just try and reach the wall then, and we can walk back.”

I peer up at the stone wall that separates this field from the next and guess that it’s only another hundred metres. Maybe I can do it. Reluctantly, I straighten up and start running, or rather, limping. Rosie barks like she’s cheering me on, and I wonder if perhaps, like me, she can’t believe I’m still going. I hobble past Shane but he catches up to me with insulting ease. “Come on.” He says with a gentler, more encouraging tone. “Keep going, just focus on the wall.” And I do, I look at it, the uneven stone bricks jostling around in my vision until it’s right there within my reach, and I launch myself at it triumphantly, hanging onto the top of it as my body crumples to the ground.

“Watch out for the cow shit there.” He says, but I don’t see, nor care about any cow shit. My breaths are wheezing out of me and my hot forehead presses up against the stone. He gets down on his haunches and pats me on the back. “Well done.”

“I used to run… so much… further than this… back when I was at school.” I manage.

“I know, but you’ll get back to that level again soon.”

“You’re barely out of breath.”

“Yeah ‘cause I do this stuff six days a week.”

I spin around so my back is against the wall instead and look at him. Sometimes I forget that he’s a man now, as though our familiarity has made me blind to the fact that he grew up into this enormous mountain of a person and is no longer the gawky teenage boy I used to know. He grew up. We all grew up. When did that happen? I remember him as a small child, chubby and freckle faced, always giving out to Kelly and I about something, whether it was to force us off the Wii because he had decided it was his turn (it never was) or to get out of the treehouse their dad had built, because he had suddenly enacted a strict no girls policy. Now it’s hard to see any resemblance between that little boy and this huge, six foot man with arms and legs the width of tree trunks. Only the small featured face would give it away, the same thin lips and sharp little nose as his sister.

When we were children I could have outrun Shane Healy any day. He was short and stout until he was thirteen, but I shot up to five foot three when I was only ten, and I was always athletically inclined, try as he might, he could never catch me with any worm he intended to drop down the back of my t-shirt, I was quick like lightning. Long and thin. His mother Caroline still calls me Beanstalk now, even though I eventually grew into all my limbs and ended up being about the average height for a girl, and Shane eventually outran me too.

I never was very good at team sports like he was as it turns out. I focussed on things like swimming, tennis, and running and long jumping at the local athletics club rather than getting picked last for some game of basketball in PE, where the girls who didn’t like me tossed the ball past my outstretched hands, assuming that I must be bad at sports just because I was quiet. I played hurling in fourth class, because we all had to learn how, but aside from that and a few forced games of rounders with the other girls at school, I don’t know very much about the GAA, while Shane has more or less dedicated all of his free time to it, especially now that he’s been placed on the senior football team, and as I sit there on the dirt on that hot August day, I’m ashamed to admit that I’m not even sure how to ask him about it.

Rosie starts licking my face, and I push her snout away from me. Once I’ve caught my breath a little I ask him. “How’s the football going?”

“Yeah, good.”

“Do you, like, have any matches or anything coming up?”

He laughs. “Why, do you want to go?”

“I don’t know, maybe, like. I haven’t gone to one in a few years.”

“Since you had to, like?”

I shrug. Not since Kelly made me, and I used to sit in the stands drawing pictures of the sides of spectators faces, reading a book or doing other things that were unacceptable and strange. Somehow I feel that now my presence at a match would be more unacceptable and even stranger as my time at art college has only pushed me further away from what is considered normal in a town like Tullamore. The sort of place where the sight of a man wearing skinny jeans would induce a torrent of homophobic slurs from a car window.

“You were in the papers a while ago.” I prompt. “For scoring a few points in a match, or something.”

“The match that got us knocked out of the quarter finals, yeah.” He says grimly. “I’ll be in no more now until after the All-Ireland, so you may wait.”

“I’ll go to the next.”

“Will you now.” He wears a disbelieving smirk, and I know that it doesn’t really matter to him whether I go or not, but it has felt strange to me this last year that he and I have become close, in our own way, and yet we have shown next to no interest in each other’s hobbies.

I stand up on trembling legs and swipe dirt off my backside so we can begin our trek back to his house. Shane and Rosie jog on ahead a little bit, still bounding with energy, but eventually, I can tell he feels a little badly about how far I am trailing behind them and circles back around to walk with me.

We walk serenaded by the birds in the trees and the distant sound of a lawnmower, and I know that Shane likes it like this, quiet, but still I am compelled to say something to fill the silence. “Do you ever wish you could get paid for playing football?” I ask him.

He shrugs. “Yeah the whole time. To be honest sometimes I wish I’d gotten good at Rugby instead, like, at least then I’d be able to make a living off of it.”

“With only a few traumatic head injuries to show for it.”

“True.”

“You’d really want to play football all the time, and train forever and do only that?”

“Yeah it’s what I want the most. I love it.”

I feel a bit sad, because I imagine a life where nobody paid people to make art, and my hobby would just be forever just that. A hobby, never a career. At least there’s a chance for me to make it, if I get good enough, someone will pay me for my work, but Shane is twenty two and already better than he’ll ever be, and besides a few sponsorship deals from local shops, he’ll never make money this way.

“So.” He says conclusively. “I suppose I’ll be a pharmacist or something.”

“That’s what you want to do after you’re done college this year? Be a pharmacist?”

“Dunno. Could be a chemist either.”

Rosie starts running towards an open gate down toward a farmer’s lane and Shane yelps and takes off after her. This is one of the deepest conversations we’ve ever had.

Beginning // Next

#lucky girl part 3 #weeeeee #i'm so excited about this part #it was like my magnum opus tbh #being dramatic but you get me #also i discovered reshade here so it starts to look better

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medlilove · 2 years

Text

Oh man these Steddie fics are never going to see the light of day!

I keep starting new scenes with new ideas but I never tidy them up enough to be postable. Instead of working on what I’ve started I keep mapping out more and scenes

Fun but omg, I’m driving myself mad!

Just things like:

Hopper, Dustin and Steve sneaking into Eddie’s hospital room just before he gets formally interviewed by the police about Jason (who goes down for the murders) So Ed, Max and everyone can get their (non monster infested) stories straight. But Eddie has no idea who Hopper is and just see’s this intense, battle hardend guy talking at him while he’s just looking at the two lads like ????!?

Eddie giving Max a ride to school everyday after the summer. They listen to heavy metal super loud. Oh and they find and adopt a cat. He wants to call it Ozzy but Max makes him call it Potato.

The older ones taking a camping trip in late Fall to the lake because Steve needs to SEE that the gate has been closed up, then they all just get high, swim and bond. Argyle is also there, just because. Robin is a chaotic smoker, won’t stop talking.

Eddie throws a special DnD Halloween campaign for the kids as a treat but he accidentally kills Applejack just as Steve and Robin get to the basement with takeout. Chaos ensues as none of the boys know what to do with a rage fueled, yet inconsoluably crying Erica. (They figure out a way to bring her back to life it’s fine). But just imagine Steve and Robin:

Hopper and Joyce recruiting all this kids and especially the older ones to help scrap and eventually rebuild a house on Hopper’s plot of land for Hopper/Joyce collective. Keeping busy with hands is very theraputic. Will corners Eddie making coffee for everyone in the kitchen and asks him out of the blue about being gay and Eddie chokes, coffee flies out of his nose. He thought Will was going to ask him about DnD. I’m not good at summeries.

Steve and Eddie, Will, Max and El and some Helfire club go see Metallica in Indianapolis the follwoing summer. Will crowd surfs, to Steve’s horror. Eddie gets hugged like crazy through Master of Puppets, they camp out in the van, so on.

Joyce unoffically adopting all of them and making them all come around for food at least once a month for some sence of normality. Whoever is able to make it is made to play boardgames, help cook the food, help her plant a garden or watch bad movies, depending on what she’s feeling on the day.

E + S figuring out which parts of each other’s bodies are good touch and bad touch areas. Eddie would rather not acknoledge his scars but overall is happy to have hands anywhere and everywhere. Steve can’t deal with people touching his neck, but eventually is comfortable enough with Eddie to have him trace his hands over the moles there. There’s way more detail in this one but haven’t mapped it out yet.

#I'm having too much fun #Steddie #stranger things spoilers #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #max mayfield #will byers #elleven #erica sinclair #joyce byers #st season 4 #stranger things 4 #steve x eddie #robin buckley

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bluelocksource · 9 months

Text

Niko Ikki’s trivia (source: twt & Egoist Bible).

"Even if you stop me, I won't stop coming up with ideas."

☆ Character's colour: Sky grey.

☆ Weapons: Tactical eyes. Smart in utilizing others.

☆ Birthday: 5th February.

☆ Current age: 15 (1st year of high school)

☆ Zodiac: Aquarius.

☆ Birthplace: Karuizawa, Nagano Prefecture.

☆ Family: Father. Mother. Himself.

☆ Current height: 173 cm.

☆ Foot size: 26 cm.

☆ Dominant foot: Right foot.

☆ Blood type: O.

☆ Motto: "Eyes represents a person."

☆ Team before joining BLUE LOCK: Wasurenagusa (forget-me-not) High School football club.

☆ Favorite food: Kappa ebisen. “I can’t get enough of it.”

☆ Disliked food: Grapefruit. “I need to know if it’s bitter or sweet beforehand.”

☆ Favorite animal: Ferrets. “They’re kind of cute, right?”

☆ Favorite season: Spring. “Because it’s pleasantly warm and my mind gets to rest."

☆ Favorite football player: Luka Modric. “He won the Ballon d’Or as the best player even though he has small physique.”

☆ Favorite song: “only my railgun” “This is a divine song. I listen to it before every game.”

☆ Favorite TV drama: Chernobyl. “It was an intense drama based on a true story."

☆ Favorite manga: BANANA FISH.

☆ Favorite movie: The entire “Puella Magi Madoka Magica” . “I like Sayaka’s ‘I'm really stupid’ scene.”

☆ What goes best with rice : "Korean seaweed. The compatibility is exquisite."

☆ Fixation: Eyes. “Eyes reveal a person’s personality, so I hid them.”

☆ Hobby: Watching anime. “I watch the first episode of almost every anime before deciding whether to watch the whole series or not. ”

☆ Magazine he often reads: JUMP+ "SPY x FAMILY is interesting."

☆ Ideal type: “Someone who is like a friend, prefers indoors, and, if possible, likes anime. ”

☆ What makes him happy: The word ‘Surrender’ from Yu-Gi-Oh card game.

☆ What makes him upset: Exposing his forehead. “My eyes and forehead are my delicate zone.”

☆ What he thinks his strength is: He’s cautious. “I make preparations before the game and won’t stop until I find a way that will lead me to victory.”

☆ What he thinks his weakness is: His cowardice. “I won’t compete when I know I’m going to lose.”

☆ Best subject: Music and Science (interested in space-related).

☆ Dislike/weak subject: P.E. “Swimming makes my hair wet and my face will be seen, so I would only watch the others swim from the side.”

☆ What made him cry recently: “When I lost to Isagi-kun…”

☆ Usual sleeping time: 7 hours. “Except when I’m watching anime I’m addicted to, so it will be less than that.”

☆ Place he washes first when taking a bath: Starts from the forehead and ends at the forehead.

☆ What will he do if received 100 million yen: He’ll buy the pure gold ‘Blue-Eyes White Dragon’ Yu-Gi-Oh card.

☆ What age he stops receiving presents from Santa: “I still receive them… is that bad?”

☆ What was his last wish from Santa: “Maybe it was…PS5?”

☆ How he spent his holiday: Watching anime.

☆ What will he do during his last day on Earth: “I will shave my head.”

note: i want to apologize in advance for any mistake made in the translation!

#blue lock #niko ikki #trivia #trivia: niko ikki #trivia: profile #bluelocksource #our translation

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