#I need to get out of my head I apologise to everyone who's ever had to deal with me spiralling

[hamartia-grander]

so my general paranoia has always been pretty bad (hi ocd) but I thought it was more manageable the past few years as I've matured and gotten better at catching myself before I spiral, but recently (as in the past three weeks or so) it's been so bad that I do things impulsively as I'm spiralling without even realising it and it's been negatively affecting the way I perceive how friends think of me which I do NOT want to start happening again because that sucked. Idk why it's happening but I'd be grateful for any advice idrk what else to say about it.

[vivwritesfics]

Set The World On Fire

Chapter Six

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Mafia AU

1.7K

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"You need to stop taking me places in a private jet or I'm gonna get used to the princess treatment," she said with a giggle as she looked out of the window, watching the clouds go by. Below them was nothing but ocean.

Lando put his drink down. "C'mere," he said, beckoning her over.

She left her seat and walked over to him. Lando patted his suit clad thighs and she sat down on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. They hadn't been dating for long; it was the most intimate thing they had ever done.

Lando had his arms wrapped around her. "Get used to the princess treatment," he said. "That's all you're gonna get with me." He kissed her cheek as she laid her head on his chest.

That was how they sat together on their flight to Spain. "What's your sister's fiancé's name?" She asked, her hand resting over his beating heart.

"Carlos," he answered. "He's an ass."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure he can't be that bad, he is gonna be your brother in law, after all."

"Trust me, baby, he's the worst."

Baby. She liked that. She really liked that. "Tell me everything I need to know. Who's gonna be there? Who of your family should I expect to meet?" She asked eagerly.

Lando couldn't stop himself from smiling. It was something he had noticed, that the only time he smiled was when she was with him. There was no way he could get through the wedding without her.

"Okay, so you've got Carlos and his sister. I've only met them once, but from what I remember, they just whisper mean things between each other in Spanish. Then there is Carlos's parents, Sainz and Mrs Sainz, his wife. I'll try and keep you away from them. Everyone else? I'll introduce them as you meet them," he said, his hand moving across her thigh.

She suppressed the shiver that ran down her spine. His fingers were so soothing. "What about your family?"

Lando shook his head. "My mum is dead, my step mum is dead, and my dad is almost dead," he said, his grip on her tightening.

"Shit, Lan," she whispered, hands reaching up to run through his curls. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologise, I never told you," he mumbled.

His phone went off, but Lando ignored it. She kissed the top of her head and squeezed her. "Thank you for coming," he whispered. "I seriously couldn't do this without you."

It wasn't long before they touched down in the Sainz family's private hangar. It was full of other private jets, from the other families that had arrived for the wedding. Lando took her hand and led her out of the jet. There was a car waiting for them when they stepped out into the warm Spanish air.

Lando opened the door to the car for her. "Such a gentleman," she said with a grin as she climbed into the car. Lando followed her in and placed his arm over her shoulders.

Their bags were placed into the back of the car and their driver set off. The fact that they had a driver was crazy. "How do you and your sister know Carlos?" She asked, settling against his side.

It was hitting her just how little she knew about him. And with every passing moment, the number of questions she had just grew.

Lando thought on his answer. It was easy for her to assume that it had been so long since they met that he didn't remember. "Our dads did business together a few years back," he answered simply.

She let out a laugh, her body gently shaking against him. "Seriously, Lan. Who the hell are you?"

Lando squeezed her shoulder. "Have you seen Legend?"

"The movie?"

He nodded his head.

"Lando, are you telling me you're a gangster?" She asked him, unable to hide the laugh about to erupt from her lips.

"No! No, but I'm essentially Ronnie Kray," he answered.

"Ronnie Kray, the gangster that sold protection to people?"

Well, that was part of that he did. "Yeah, but I'm not a gangster and everything I do is legal."

He was a fucking mystery.

***

Lando felt incredibly guilty about leaving her in the hotel room. But Hamilton had called for a meeting and, being the representative for the Norris family, he had to attend.

"I'll be gone an hour at most," Lando said as he leaned over to kiss her.

"Lan, it's fine," she said and pulled a book from her bag. "Have fun! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" She called.

Lando let out a laugh. That kind of high pitched shrieking laugh that she was already in love with. "I'll try not to," he said and kissed her again.

He walked out of the hotel room as she cracked open her book.

Lando couldn't hide his smile as he climbed into the car waiting for him. It was already full of other heads of family or their representatives. Lando sat himself beside Magnussen and Perez. Max Verstappen, representing the Verstappen family, sat opposite him, with Mick Schumacher beside him.

Mick was... different. He wasn't representing the Schumacher family. But his father died before he was ready to takeover the family. The Verstappens tried to take Mick and his family in, but Schumacher had a plan in place in case of his death. He didn't want Jos looking after his family, and had instead sent them to the Wolff family.

That was who Mick was representing. His name was Schumacher, but he was representing the Wolff family.

"You brought someone?" Max asked Lando as he sat down.

Lando slowly nodded his head. "Yeah, I did," he said, not elaborating further.

"Is she... aware of what's going on?" Mick asked.

Lando sucked in a breath. "No," he answered, looking at the other representatives. "She hasn't got a clue.

Max leaned forward. "Interesting," he said, wearing a little smirk. "What did you tell her?"

"She's called me a gangster, and we're gonna leave it at that."

Max sat back in his seat, hands clasped together in his lap. "Good luck with that," he said, turning his attention to the window.

It was obvious what Max was thinking. Of course it was a bad idea to take her to a mafia wedding when she had no idea what was going on. But Lando wanted her protected from that world. The less she knew, the more protected she was. She could still get out.

Perez shook his head. "Bad idea, man," he said. "I didn't tell my wife and I almost lost her."

Lando didn't answer him.

The car pulled up outside of Sainz's house. They filled out of the car, one by one. Three more cars were already outside of the house, and it was clear they were the last ones there.

Lando walked into the house with Max. Just a few years before they would have been talking and laughing like kids while their fathers worked. But now they were the ones working in their fathers steed.

"How are you holding up?" Max asked quietly as they walked through the Sainz house.

Lando let out a breath, just grateful that Max had waited until they were out of the car to ask. He looked around the Sainz house, the house he had been in just weeks before. "She's somewhere in here," he said. "I just wanna know how she is."

They walked into the Library. Several chairs were set around a table, most of them filled. In the corner of the room was a much smaller table, a chess set on it. Lando knew exactly who had set that up.

He sat down and Max sat on his right. Alonso was on his left and the other heads of family filled the table. Carlos was there, sat beside his father.

The most commanding presence at the table was Hamilton. He gave Lando a slow nod as a drink was placed in front of him.

As soon as they all had drinks, Hamilton stood, glass in his hand. "As per tradition, we are here to celebrate the union of the Sainz family and the Norris family. The trading routes between Norris and Sainz will be reopened, benefitting all of us. Lets discuss product and trading route."

Clearing his throat, Lando stood with the speech his father had prepared for him. "This decade of war between our family has affected The Norris family and it's ability to move our product into other Spain and other European countries. This union will not only help reignite our relationship with the Sainz family, but will aid in our strengthening our relationship with the Ferrari family."

He placed the cards his father had written out for him into his pocket. "I do think it's unnecessary to involve my sister in things."

Brown eyes snapped towards him. "Hijo de puta." (Motherfucker).

Having said his piece, Lando sat down. He wasn't paying much attention as other heads of families discussed what the reopening of the trading route would do for them.

After five minutes, he stood up. He wordlessly left the room, navigating his way down the hall and into the kitchen, towards the bathroom.

But somebody was already in the kitchen. The fridge door was open as somebody, dressed in most of a fine suit, pulled cold beers from the fridge. He held them in his arms, used his elbow to shut the fridge and turned around.

He nearly dropped them when he saw Lando. "Oscar!" He called.

Oscar rushed to put the beers on the table. He threw his arms around Lando and patted his back. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you until tomorrow," he said, his hand on his shoulder.

"Hamilton called a meeting," he said.

Oscar nodded, making a mental note to keep her in her room for the night.

"How is she?"

Oscar breathed deep. "She's... coping," he said. "We're gearing up for one last fun night before the wedding." He pointed back to the beers and Lando nodded his head.

"Look after her for me, yeah?"

"I will."

Lando helped Oscar place the beers into his arms and sent him on his way.

a/n: (wow i never do these, this feels weird) Sup guys! So i mentioned the Kray twins and, for those that don't know, they were london gangsters in the 1950's (check out the film legend its soooo good). It feels like a gamble putting mention of them in here and if anybody is offended, send me an ask and I'll change it! (i purposefully didn't mention Reggie for obvious reasons)

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[spiderlyla]

the high school reunion thing is so cute but now I’m also thinking about seeing him as a single person 👀 can you imagine going back to your highschool reunion and your old HS Best friend that you lost touch with after college is now this brooding 6’9 BIG MAN? my god

♤—Miguel O'Hara

—anon ur a genius.

🕸alternate idea to teenage miguel headcanons, you can read the first idea here!

🕸taglist: @general-dweebous , @mamu-writes , @beezblep

you weren't really sure why you attended this in the first place, you didn't like half of these people during your years in highschool.

but you were free for the night, and it wouldn't hurt if you had a couple of free drinks and went home after

you didn't mingle much, just said hello to a couple of friends, catching up and engaging in small talk

it was fun for a bit, reminiscing on your time spent here, but you soon found yourself getting overwhelmed

you stepped out of the gym, deciding to take a breather in the hall, when you bumped into something

hard.

you stumbled a bit from the impact, but two hands rested on your sides, stabilising you

taking a few steps back, you apologised, and excused yourself, a little too embaressed to look up

"Ay, still as clumsy as always. No es sorprendente."

your eyes met his, and memories came crashing down on you

one person you've never expected to run into here, was your bestfriend, Miguel O'Hara

miguel and you met just like this, not too many years ago. you bumped into him so hard the two of you fell on top of one another

after that little event, you found yourself partnered with him for your biology class, and ever since you were inseprable

that was until he completely dissappeared from everyone's lives as soon as he started working for alchemax

those brown eyes you daydreamed about as a teenager were boring into yours, but you could swear they were now a little...reddish? something about him was different.

then you noticed it. everything was different.

you remember miguel as this scrawny, freakishly tall nerd with dark brown bangs covering his forehead, who barely even held himself together

not as...this.

the man who stood infront of you was nothing like you remember. his body has obviously seen some extreme changes—you were certain that his arm was bigger than your own head

it didn't help that he wore a tight black shirt, because you could see the ripples of his abs from underneath the fabric and because it tugged at all of the right places

his face was still as handsome and defined, but he wore his hair back, it was definitely a good look on him

you had always had a crush on miguel, but seeing him like this made your tummy flutter

"Miggy? What...how are you—"

he smiled, and you could swear you could see...fangs? maybe he got his canins sharpened or something.

"You look good yourself...too good." Just like him, you changed alot too, and you did put some effort into how you looked tonight. Just for a faint moment, you saw his ears turn pink, but you didn't think too much about it, there was alot of things to stare at more important than his ears.

"Its been a while since you saw me. Started working out is all. Are you leaving?"

His answer was too calculated. You haven't seen him in ages, but you know him like you know the back of your hand.

"Just taking a breather."

"Had enough already?"

"Oh, you have no idea. Most of them are even more annoying than I remember them."

He chuckles, running his hand into his soft hair. That feeling in your stomach persisted.

"Then do you want to get out of here? I only came because I thought I might see you. We could go to the bar. Talk there."

"What makes you think I wanna talk to you?" You jab a finger at his chest, and wince at the pain. Gosh, his chest was hard.

"We have alot to talk about," He flashed you another grin, "and I think I should buy you a drink. Make up for lost time."

"Oh fine, only if you're paying." You chuckle.

"...and you need to tell me what 'work out' that makes you turn into this."

[tinandabin]

Sagau but the reader is the ACTUAL creator part 3

Part 2 part 4

ngl, I was kind of scared to post this cause there were so many people to tag 😭😭

____

It's been what? 2 days? A week? Or perhaps a month without seeing you. The Vision Hunt Decree got stricter, they now used more violent methods to seize the vision under Ei's command. Ei hasn't left Plane Of Euthymia ever since she last heard your voice, all she does is meditate and drown herself in her sorrow.

Morax isolated himself, busying himself in the Wangshen Funeral Parlour, it is rare to see him even talk about Osmanthus wine now. He's trying his best to not think of you, but his mind just can't help but wander to your lovely face.

All Barbatos does is spend his time away at the tavern, drinking away till he no longer can. Drinking as much as he can so he can forget about his miserable life without you.

Oh, how long till they get to see you? Are you really doing all this for a mere mortal? Are they of such value to you? Would you place a mortal above them, your devoted acolytes? This is too cruel for their poor souls, they rather would die a hundred times, no, a thousand times than spend another second without seeing you. They can't live like this. They need you.

_____

"Um-uh, Your Grace, I was wondering if we could go to..Liyue? I would like to sight-see, if that is okay with you," The girl, whose name you found out is Revelyn, asked.

You found out that Revelyn doesn't really have any family, if she did then you would have returned her there. However, she grew up in an orphanage and then was left to fend for herself when she was old enough. You had even initiated the idea of her returning to the mortal realm, but she says she is too scared, for everyone probably hates her, I mean, they took their Divine Creator's attention away from them.

"Hesitate not dear, Seraphina will escort you," You replied, reading some documents and quickly filling out some slots.

Revelyn's body tensed up as she responded swiftly, "I was wondering whether you could come with me!" She ended with a loud huff, both of you surprised at her outburst.

"Oh, I do apologise; however I do not seem to have any free time today," You glanced at your clock and started to skim over the documents again.

"..I see, that's fine. We can go another day," Revelyn slowly got up and took her leave from your office.

Just as you were about to get up, you saw a letter settled neatly upon your desk. Opening it, you read it.

“Hello, Your Divinity, how are you? It has been quite a long time since I last saw you. You make me worried sick, I will not lie.

As for why I am contacting you, ever since you declared the punishment of the archons, Ei hasn't come out of Plane Of Euthymia and it looks like she is slipping into insanity.

As her familiar, it is my duty to make sure she is in her best state, no? I was perhaps hoping for you to end her punishment and we could also have some tea together.

Your Dearest,

Yae Miko ♡. ”

You settled the letter on a stack of books and smiled to yourself, noticing Yae Miko's little attempt to spend time with you. Oh well, you might as well amuse yourself.

That reminds you, didn't Revelyn want to go to Liyue? Let's hope she is fine heading to Inazuma. Inazuma sure is a beautiful place on its own, dangerous nonetheless.

Perhaps you have been too cruel on your acolytes? Ah, let's hope they learnt their lesson.

____

taglist: @shizunxie @dearloonies @iruiji @yani-dere @kiraisastay @fauxizs @salvationprodigy @thetruepair @lunalily19

do y'all like revelyn? I feel like making her the enemy somewhat. the archons vs revelyn who will win.

Masterlist

[sunsetkerr]

MRS ARNOLD | m. arnold

summary: headcanons of what is was like to being mrs arnold.

pairing: fem!reader x mackenzie arnold

notes: my very first piece that isn't sam???????? what???? this was a request, and I've decided that on occasion I will accept requests for other players, see my masterlist so you know who to request for!! If they aren't there, I most likely won't write for them, but there is never ever any harm in asking. if you have anymore questions/thoughts about mrs arnold, send them in so we can chat about her!! lots of love!!

you had been around football your entire life

your dad was a trainer for west ham’s womens team

you grew up a die-hard west ham fan

you played as a kid and a teenager

but as you got older you decided to head onto a different path

you studied audiology once you graduated high school 

focused on your studies and graduated as one of the top students in your degree

your family was so proud of you

of course you still watched football once you stopped playing

you never missed a match (and your dad would never let you)

 in 2023, you were at the height of your career, heading into owning your own clinic

you were loving your job

so when your dad asked you to come in and take a look at one of his players, you were surprised

but of course, you weren’t one to ever say no to him

you arrived at chadwell heath and received a great reception

everyone there knew you as your dad’s daughter

they loved having you around

you walked into your dads office not thinking about it

when you were met with mackenzie

you hadn’t officially met her before

but up close, wow, she was even more breathtaking than in goal

as you went to apologise for barging in on her, your dad came in

he introduced mackenzie to you and explained why he had brought you in

she had suspected that she was suffering from hearing loss

you tried your best to tread lightly on the topic as it was a relatively new concept to her

she was familiar with hearing loss

her brother had worn hearing aids since he was young

but she had never considered needing them herself

you said that you could book her in for an audiology test and have a look

you ended up diagnosing her later that week

mackenzie was so grateful for you

for such a hard experience, you sure made it easy

she was in awe of you and how smart you were

she marvelled at your mind

you were just so intelligent

she couldn’t help herself

you stayed close after fitting her for her hearing aids

you would be in the change room at half-time at west ham home games

you were technically working as a ‘personal player consultant’ on the medical team

(thanks dad)

but really, you just wanted to be near mackenzie

she was starting to excel even more in her game (if that was possible)

and she always chalked it up to you

‘well since y/n fitted my hearing aids’

‘y/n did the most really’

‘she’s just so smart, without her i’d be struggling still’

mackenzie gloated about you 24/7 to anyone who would listen

she ended up asking you on a date after four months of officially knowing each other

she found herself at your clinic way too often 

there was only so many times mackenzie could lie about a faulty battery

so when you mentioned how many times she had come in

she was a blushing mess, but managed to murmur out

‘would you want to get dinner tonight?’

you said yes right away

you had only been waiting four months for her to ask

she asked you to be her girlfriend on your fourth time out together

(after getting a very big hint from your dad that you were waiting)

‘already made her wait for that date, macca. wouldn’t want to keep her waiting much longer’

she called you after that conversation and said she was taking you out that night

you couldn’t really ask for more with mackenzie

she was everything you wanted in a person

and now you get to watch west ham matches from the player suites

not just the friends and family section 

[toorusluvr]

… ⇢ ˗ˏˋ F.O.M.L PART TWO ࿐ྂ - FUSHIGURO TOJI

characters: coach!fushiguro toji x volleyball player f!reader

cw: college!au + volleyball!au + cunnilingus (f!receiving) + penetrative sex + mentions of creeps bothering the reader 

word count: 5k

note from nis: hi everyone so the long awaited part two of f.o.m.l is finally here. the part one was posted before i did my internship and now i’m three weeks away from completing my internship lol i’m so sorry for the delay. so, i hope this part two will keep you entertained and i apologise in advance if it’s not as good as the part one. the part two focuses on the events that happened before part one took place (did i word this right?) anyway, i hope all of you enjoy this part two as a celebration on officially getting toji animated! <3 thank you and have a great holidays! 

[part 1][part 2] 

Good lord, if Toji was no better than any other men, he would have tried to hit on his student that day. The first time he ever saw you as a woman rather than his student, he almost lost his mind over how fucked up that sounded in his head. He tried to blame himself for ever viewing you as a woman instead of his player but he just couldn’t stop staring at you! 

It was subtle, really. Toji was being subtle with all the staring, not wanting to stir up a crazy controversy around this new place. As a coach, he was supposed to lead his team to victory, not tearing them apart due to his foolish stunt. So, he acted normally like he usually did at his previous college. A grumpy, strict, hot-headed coach he has always been.  

Toji hates… no, he detests disobedience! He will never tolerate anyone talking back to him. Not even a word should be said back to him, no matter who the fuck you think you are. Whenever he asks you to do something, you better do it or else he’s going to lose his shit. You aren’t going to do what he asks you to do? It’s nice knowing you while it lasts. Especially in volleyball. You better follow what the man says. He is not at all nice with his words, he must say that. Most of the time, he would verbally lash out at the players, nitpicking every tiny mistake they make. It’s unbearable at first but hey, that’s how your team got to the final round of volleyball collegiate level! It was a remarkable day and the victory was possible due to Coach Toji’s determination and hard work. 

Coach Toji is never the one to make his players’ sports attire a huge problem in his life. But right now, there is nothing more he hates than how skimpy those shorts look on you at times. He wasn’t a fool! He could clearly see how stupid those college boys look at you in those revealing shorts. They were ogling over you and your teammates. A part of him just wanted to beat the shit out of them for having the audacity to look at what’s not theirs! 

But, he is not any better than those pervs. Coach Toji loves how those shorts look wonders on your legs. The way you stretch your legs on the squeaky floor and the shorts will rise a bit, teasing him with just a small peek of the globe of your ass. Coach Toji does not pay attention to the other players but you… you make him forget that he’s even breathing at the moment. 

Does he regret feeling this way towards his own student? Sometimes, yeah. He’s a grown man and so are you. It’s nothing inappropriate even if it might seem like it. But, he won’t ever act on his dirty thoughts for long as he’s having this job that is keeping him alive. He still has his conscience even if it’s uncontrollable at times. 

Coach Toji isn’t the one who likes having his hands on women he has absolutely no interest in. He avoids touching his players especially but you are an exception. He had to make an exception for you the moment he started to find himself staring at you. The days he started to think you are just what he needs in his life. Another plaything, another toy to keep. Such a precious little thing, his mind would say at every glance he takes. The quiet laughter you share with your teammates, the shy and flustered look every time your eyes meet his piercing gaze. He wouldn’t miss that. Oh, now he definitely knows you want him just as much. You may not want him romantically but it was enough to satisfy him on the you want him sexually part. 

You would think he doesn’t notice the way your body squirms every time he tries to fix your posture before each serve. He indeed notices it and the way your skin turns a bit colder each time his fingertips brush against your skin. The shaky breath you slowly inhale and exhale to calm the raging nervousness set in your heart. Cute. It just drives him to go crazy over you. 

His ‘girlfriend’, the woman he brought as his date to the event, wasn't really his girlfriend. Just another casual fuck buddy that he keeps in case he wants to well… fuck. Better to keep at least someone around anytime he wants to hit. She’s an old friend so no romantic feelings involved and both of them are very clear about it. 

That was merely a stunt to check if you’d get jealous but he never got the answer to his curiosity. You played your part well. Coach Toji was definitely impressed. 

However, a few days later, he received a call from your phone number that he saved in his contacts. Well, well, well, look who came running to him this late at night. Turns out, you couldn’t resist him too, huh? 

The moment he picked up the phone, his heart dropped at the sound of your panicking voice. You were sobbing and crying out for his name. “Coach, I-I’m sorry for calling you at this hour. There are a few guys who are disturbing me… I d-don’t feel safe,” your voice was caught in your throat at the end of the sentence. “Can you get me? Please…” you sobbed, holding your coat tightly to the chest. 

You couldn’t get past the group of guys because there were plenty of them. They were catcalling you and you got scared to walk past them. Calling your coach was the last thing you could do because no one else was nearby the campus at this hour. You went out for the sole purpose of purchasing dinner but then this shit happened. Fuck these guys for making you feel unsafe! 

Coach Toji immediately grabbed his jacket and keys, storming out of his apartment by the campus. “Don’t put the phone down! Stay on the phone with me. I’m coming to get you right now. Stay where you are,” he gritted through his teeth. His anger was off the roof, blood boiling at the thought of you feeling unsafe.

Those men’s faces will meet his fist tonight and he meant it with his whole existence. Whoever puts the people he looks out for in danger is going to be scathed alive. Coach Toji drove to the pinned location where he met a group of men drinking several cans of beer by the road. He spotted you hiding behind the building, hands clutching over your chest. One of the men tried to get you but he never got to approach you as Coach Toji’s fist met his jaw. 

“Don’t you fucking dare make women uncomfortable by your rotten existence, you fucking dipshit,” Coach Toji’s voice seethed. His knuckles burned, slightly scratching his skin off. He was quick to grab you by the hand and you were caught by surprise. Coach Toji stopped in his tracks in front of the group of men. 

“You better get the hell out of here before I call the fucking cops on ya,” he threatened. “If I get one more complaint, on God, I would make sure that each and one of you never sees the lights again.”

Coach Toji didn’t waste any second as he pushed you into the passenger seat. You tried to sob quietly beside your seething coach in his car. He didn’t say a word, just giving you space to calm down. His anger was out of his control but he wouldn’t want you to fear him while being in an unstable condition. He may have some unresolved anger issues but he is not an animal. 

You let your coach take you to wherever he wanted to take you. Knowing him, his players’ safety is under his guidance as well. So, he would never leave you in a place he doesn’t have his faith in. Instead, he brought you to his house by the campus. He’s been staying here for as long as you could remember. 

“Get inside,” Coach Toji instructed. You knew better than saying anything back so you obeyed. The door was unlocked by him and he rushed you inside. “Sit,” he pointed his index finger to the couch in the living room. 

His house was cozy even with the minimal decorations. No clutters except a number of beer cans on the dining table. Maybe he had a few drinks with people before this happened. You sat on the couch and the tears that overflowed before had left its stain on your face. Coach Toji went to his kitchen to grab a bottle of mineral water before handing it to you.

“Tell me what happened.” The screeching sound of the chair being dragged across the marble floor interrupted the silence. Toji placed the chair in front of you and sat across you, manspreading with his elbows planted above his knees. His jet black hair hair was damp, sweats sticking on his forehead. The black t-shirt stretched against his muscular body every time he moved. 

You explained to him that you were buying dinner take outs for yourself and you were on your way home when you stumbled upon the group of guys. They were drunk catcalling you, terrifying you to walk past them. You were stuck because that path was the only way home and out of there. Calling Coach Toji was your only option because he lives near campus and could come to get you as soon as possible. 

Coach Toji let out a heavy sigh. “Those bastards,” he gritted through his teeth. He got up and stood in front of you, keeping both of his hands inside his pocket. 

“Do you know any self-defense?” He asked. 

As embarrassing as it gets, you never really learned basic self-defense. There is no time to learn because of the time you spend on volleyball practices. “No, Coach. Sorry, I don’t know any,” you blurted out. 

“Don’t,” he retorted. “Don’t apologise.” 

Your eyes met his stare. It was instinctive to apologise for not knowing any because most of the time you ever hold a conversation with this man is when he is scolding you or your team members. 

“Sorry, Coach.” It was too late to realise what just came out of your mouth. Another apology that Coach Toji refused to hear. He let out a heavy sigh, clearly disappointed. 

“You think you can sweat tonight?” Coach Toji asked. His black orbs held its gaze with yours for a moment. 

You were clueless but you just said yes to his question. “Good. I’ll teach you basic self-defense. Come closer,” he instructed. “Leave your bag and takeout bags. They are not coming with you.”

Oh, right. You were still holding your shoulder bag and takeout bags in your lap. Putting aside your belongings, you got up and straightened your pullover and jeans. 

Coach Toji’s eyes landed on your outfits. “Those jeans are not going to make do. Do you have your shorts on?”

Safety shorts. You always put them on every time you wear jeans because it’s easier that way. No underwear lines. “Yes,” you hastily answered. 

Coach Toji could feel blood rush to his groin. Fuck. But, he wasn’t going to take advantage of you. He wanted to teach you some basic self-defense moves so it would be useful. He would hate for you to use it though because he doesn’t want any bastards near you to put you in any danger. 

“Put them on,” he commanded. 

You nodded hesitantly. Coach Toji hurriedly looked away so you could take your jeans off. He noticed you were clearing your throat awkwardly so he assumed you’re done. He cleared his throat next, “Alright. Come forward.” 

You did as told. Coach Toji took a step forward too, “First, stand with your feet apart. Align it with your shoulders. You know this. It’s a basic stance.” Within a second, you prepared yourself in the first stance. Coach Toji let out a disapproved noise. He checked your stance and moved his hand to widen the stance of your legs. His skin brushed against your skin and the contact burned you. 

Coach Toji felt the warmth emitted from your skin. “Next, you put your hands up like this,” Coach Toji showed the moves. You tried following and he nodded after your stance convinced him that it’s correct. He let out a satisfied hum before moving closer to fix the stance. 

“The next move requires flexibility. Just like how you did in volleyball. It’s easy. Move your legs like this. Raise them higher,” Coach Toji’s large hands gripped on your left thigh and moved them upwards, lifting your legs to kick the air. 

You let out a deep sigh as you felt the burning sensation over your inner thighs. “I think I pulled a muscle,” you winced in pain. Coach Toji furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t think you pulled a muscle, maybe it’s just a light strain. 

“Sit down,” he pointed his index finger to the couch and you obliged. Coach Toji inspected your smooth thighs, his fingers running along your skin. His other hand gripped on your flesh with a firm grip. 

“I don’t think you pulled a muscle,” he confirmed. 

You bit on your lower lip. Maybe it was a false alarm? 

“Um, okay, Coach.”

Coach Toji raised one of his eyebrows at you, “You didn’t stretch properly.”

The tone of his voice was hinting on accusing you for not stretching properly. You felt offended somehow because you did stretch properly before learning the self-defense mechanism. But, it’s only normal for him to have an accusatory tone because that’s how he has always been. 

“Quiet already?” Coach Toji asked, staring straight into your eyes. He let out a heavy sigh again. “I thought you girls are so talkative even when I am around. Ya think I didn’t know what you guys were talking about me the other day?” 

Your heart dropped at the sudden mention of the other day’s incident. It’s none other than the woman herself who told him about it. Coach Toji had a good laugh after the woman told him about it. Well, she wasn’t wrong about it neither did his players. 

“I- well, we…” your words trailed off, not knowing where to begin to defend yourself. “It was a joke. I apologise on behalf of my teammates. I assure you it will not happen again.” 

“So, you think my sex life is a joke to you girls?” He blurted out. Coach Toji was not being serious about it but it was exciting to see the panicked look on your face. You looked so helpless right now and it rubbed his ego in the wrong way. 

Your cheeks heated, your breath became unsteady, palms turned colder the moment he said that in your face. No one was supposed to overhear the stupid conversation that put you in trouble right now. It was a foolish bet that could possibly hurt no one. But, luck wasn’t on your team’s side that day. Coach Toji’s girlfriend heard it all and placed her bet on it too. 

That stupid little game put you in trouble and you became the hero that saved your teammates the trouble. Gosh, being the hero doesn’t sound so good right now. Not with the killing stare Coach Toji was giving you. 

“Maybe it’s about time for me to stress that you girls really need to mind your own business. My sex life has nothing to do with you people,” Coach Toji sternly said. He noticed your jaw ticked, eyebrows furrowed when he scolded you for the mess that your teammates created. 

“Again, Coach. I apologise on behalf of my teammates. It was a foolish bet that has nothing to do with you,” you gulped, shaky eyes and heavy breaths. Coach Toji shrugged, dismissing your apologies. 

He found it funny that he didn’t find it offensive at all but God, did he try to control himself from not spoiling you right there and now. Coach Toji was about to lose everything on his goddamn mind seeing that innocent face of yours trying to make up for the team.

“Oh, sweetheart. If only you knew,” the man sighed. “Want to see it for yourself so you can brag to your teammates all about it?” 

Your eyes shivered. That wasn’t how you planned to describe what you were feeling in that moment but for sure your eyes did shiver! Every hairs on your body rose, skin prickled with heat in embarrassment or arousal – it was either of them, you were not quite sure which of them was it. 

“I- no, that is not what I meant,” you stuttered in your place. Both of your feet were stuck to the floor. You could not move an inch because Toji was staring daggers at you. His piercing gaze could kill you, steal all of your breaths and finally, leave your body on the floor. 

“Ever dreamed about me, doll?” Coach Toji took a step forward, and you could feel the warmth of his muscular body emitting. His black shirt hugging every inch of his biceps and that rock hard abs. The man brought his one hand over your face, cupping your delicate jaw. The friction between your shorts and the restraining tent on his pants flipped the switch in your brain. 

Your breath hitched again. “I’ll take that as a yes,” you heard him whisper just beside your ears. His minty breath tickled your already heightened senses. Coach Toji’s palm landed on your stomach, pushing you onto the couch. His very much larger build hovered on top of you. 

That man’s mind was a battlefield. He didn’t know what he should do at this moment other than wrecking you. A part of him wanted to go gentle but he said fuck it, and just do whatever his guts were telling him to do. He could not waste this chance. He wanted to show you how a real man should satisfy his partner, though you aren’t really his to begin with. As long as you get to taste just an ounce of his intention, he’s fine with it. 

“Do you want this, doll? Whatcha say?” Coach Toji’s voice broke the silence again. Slowly, he lifted your chin to meet his eyes. 

Your breath staggered, chest rising up and down heavily. Without any hesitation, you nodded your head – not knowing what the future has in store for you. It was all in the heat of the moment and you could not deny the heat pooling in between your legs. 

Coach Toji’s lips caught your lower lip. Gently, he nibbled on the soft lips he sneakily admired from afar. The urge to just devour you was getting stronger each second. Coach Toji’s impatient hands almost ripped your shirt out. But then he thought you deserved better than that. He wanted to at least be respectful of your current state. He groaned into your mouth as his hands snuck their way in your shirt. His calloused hands lightly stroked your stomach, igniting a fire in your systems. 

You let out a soft pant as he removed your shirt for you. If it were up to him, the shirt would be ripped off in a millisecond but he was holding himself back. It was a surprise to him too. He was never patient, he would admit.

Coach Toji looked down to where your nipples were poking through the material of your bra. A smirk plastered across his face seeing you got aroused. Your back was comfortably laid on the couch and Coach Toji’s huge frame looming on top of you. The man’s minty breath ghosted over your neck, littering soft kisses on the thin skin. He sucked and nibbled on your skin, instantly decorating it with the red marks. 

Your fingers clawed on his ripped back, careful to not make it sting. Maybe it was the chemical reactions in your system, but you couldn’t defy the electrifying feeling to grind against the man’s forming tent. His lips left traces on your skin as he went lower and lower. 

“Oh, God,” you whimpered once he situated his face in between your thighs. A smirk plastered across his manly, “sculpted by God himself” face. He roughly pulled down your pants, almost ripping the fabric into tiny pieces. He was growing impatient as time passed by. He couldn’t just stand there trying to refrain himself from spoiling you. You turned him this way, and he wasn’t complaining one bit. 

Right now, you wanted to run away so bad. But, the way Coach Toji was looking at you as if you were the greatest gift that has ever happened to him, successfully changed your mind. The way his gaze glistened with pride once he undressed you naked. His eyes observing every inch of your body with the smug smile on his face. His calloused hands reached for your thighs, circling both of them with his hands. 

“So fucking tempting,” he grunted in his deep raspy voice. “How could I not love this sight?”  

Coach Toji continued to taunt you as your body squirmed underneath him. He couldn’t let himself be patient any longer. The man ensured you were watching him the moment he spat on your cunt, and you shivered feeling the warmth of the liquid. 

You felt a long lick along your folds, back arched against the couch with your eyes shut. A burning sensation electrified your whole body. This feeling made you feel like you were a brand new woman. Nothing ever felt like Coach Toji’s tongue, not even your exes. Is this because he’s far more experienced? But, God, was it so good that you almost cried that night. 

Coach Toji threw a look at you, eyes shut closed — not daring to meet his eyes. Cute. 

His tongue sucked and nibbled on your folds before it moved to your clit. A cry escaped past your lips as he sucked hard on the bundle of nerves. Your instant reflex was to tug on his hair and he was pissed off. But, he fucking loved the way you pulled on his hair when he was devouring you like this. So precious for him. And obedient too. He would do anything just to have you in his home again. 

“Ah! Please!” You cried out after trying so hard to keep your noises to yourself. You were panting heavily, eyes finally met the man’s piercing gaze staring up at you. The scar on his lips lifted as a smirk plastered across his face, daunting you with mischief. 

Coach Toji went back up, towering you once again. “Please what, doll? Use your big girl words. You’re a smart girl. Try harder.” 

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest at his words. “Please… give me more, sir,” the word ‘sir’ hung in the air. Only Coach Toji’s steady breathing accompanied the silence. His blood rushed to his already half hard cock at the name you just called him. This might be the first time he is affected by the sound of your voice. 

“Give you what?” Coach Toji smirked. 

You gulped, your throat burned at throwing the words out of your mouth. Before you spoke, your breath hitched, stopping you to form coherent sentences. “Please use your cock on me, sir,” your lips trembled once you spat the words out loud. Loud enough for him to hear you. 

“Good. That’s what I thought,” he sighed. “Let me stretch you out before I use my cock on you, hm, doll?” 

That statement gave you chills. You peeked at his fingers. The girth of his fingers made it hard for you to breathe. It’s gonna burn, for sure. Coach Toji commanded you to look at him. You got scared of his stern voice. With nervousness coiling your stomach, you kept your eyes on Coach Toji, paying attention to every one of his acts. 

He brought two of his fingers to his lips, wetting them in his mouth. Saliva coating his two fingers right after, followed by a loud pop sound. “Tell me if it hurts,” he muttered under his breath. Your back arched once again once you felt his two fingers slid so easily inside your cunt, penetrating the tight walls with its girth. Once his thumb found your clit, you felt this swirling feeling inside of your stomach. The circular motion got your head spinning and panting for more. 

Coach Toji watched your breasts bounce up and down with an awe smirk plastered across his face. Your eyes shut closed, hands clutching on the couch. Feeling his lust got the best of him, his mouth then covered one of your nipples and gave them a hard suck. Your breath hitched again before letting out audible moans. 

The squelching noises that filled his living room echoed in the back of your mind. Your moans and his grunts mixed all together. “C-coach, wait, wait,” you paused. 

His eyebrows furrowed when you called out for him. But, he didn’t pull his fingers out and kept his steady pace. Your face washed with pleasure and struggled to get the words out. 

“Wh-what about your girlfriend?” You finally uttered the question you have been meaning to ask before this happened. His girlfriend would kill you if she found out that her boyfriend is secretly screwing his student behind her back. 

“She is not my girlfriend,” he asserted. Coach Toji met your gaze, “Don’t worry about a fucking thing. You are mine tonight.” He dared to say that with his two fingers languidly stroking your insides, abusing your tight walls with pleasurable pain. 

You moaned once again, climax almost washed all over you. Coach Toji bit on his inner cheeks, grunting as he drew firm circles on your clit, flicking the sensitive bud to give you the orgasm that you never had before him. And when it hit, you found yourself screamed in a high-pitched scream as you had your first orgasm. You were gasping for air but Coach Toji covered your mouth with his addictive kiss. 

His sexy lips nibbled on your lower lip, softly sucking on your plump lip before he terrorised your mouth. As his one hand cupped your jaw, the other free hand rashly undid his pants and his briefs. Once he undressed himself, he let out a groan after breaking the kiss. He never wanted to let go of your lips at that moment. 

You looked down at his throbbing cock in his hand. The length and the girth gave you a second thought. 

Will it fit? 

Will it hurt? 

It’s terrifying enough just at the glance of his dick. 

“Bend your legs for me, love,” he murmured. When you did, he wasn’t satisfied. So, Coach Toji took the matter into his own hands and bent your legs as far as you could. You hissed in pain but surprisingly, he kissed the pain away. 

Coach Toji sighed the moment the warmth of your slick touched his cock. He slid his length along your folds, just rubbing it back and forth, tormenting you with hasty moves. You winced because of the sensitivity after coming down from your high. 

“It’s- it’s sensitive,” you cried a plea.

Coach Toji held your thighs open before he buried his cock inside you. God, it was so warm and he almost lost his mind that night. Your walls were squeezing around his tip so tight. He slowly bottomed out but that only made you cry louder. It was painful but in a good way. The pain was minimal because you were already stretched out by his fingers earlier. 

His head was thrown back once his length was fully inside you. Slowly, he rocked his hips to set his pace. You sobbed back a tear, watching his cock sliding in and out of you. Indescribable feelings clouded your mind, disabling you to form coherent sentences. His stroke was so damn good, you were sure you almost wished tonight to never come to its end. 

Your legs kept on closing against your will because of the building climax. Coach Toji grunted under his breath as his frustration grew from keeping your legs open. 

“You need to be more flexible, doll,” he hissed. “Your legs need to be stretched out more.”

Whatever he said didn’t make sense to you when he got you all speechless. You let him belittled you and all he ever received was a bunch of whines and cries. Coach Toji watched every single of your facial expressions as his cock hit every sensitive spot inside your inviting cunt. 

“Fuck, I already love your pussy, baby,” Coach Toji groaned before giving another thrust that gave you a loud moan. “I am not changing my mind about your pussy,” his minty breath hovered in the corner of your lips. His tongue slid into your mouth, his bare hand fondling and pinching on your hardened nipples. 

His pace was ruthless, leaving your tongue tied. You were sure it was going to leave you limping the following day. Coach Toji wrapped your legs around his waist, pounding into you so hard. You were nothing but tears and snots in the comfort of his living room. He introduced all sorts of new unlocked feelings that night. But, you couldn’t help thinking of the consequences of tonight’s event tomorrow and the day after. What will happen between the both of you? What if someone finds out?  How are you going to look at him in the eyes during practice? How’s your future going to look like? Are you just another one of his fucktoy? 

The overthinking collides with your urge to come around his cock for the second time. And he gave it to you willingly. The high that you never expected you’d experience in your lifetime. Truly, Coach Toji knows how to fuck. It leaves you wondering if he makes love just as good as he fucks. 

[bedsyandco]

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

🫧 — {fem!bsf!reader x dad!brock boeser}

🫧 — my first time writing for brock!! I hope you like it, as always feedback is appreciated !!

🫧 — in which your Brock’s best friend and the lines are blurry because you act like more both to him and his son.

🫧 — content: sfw, a little person, fluff

🫧 — wc: 2.35K

You were staring out the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass of your coffee shop. The place was buzzing with people only minutes earlier, everyone wanting a hot drink to shield them from the stretch of bad weather that impacted the city these last few days, although that’s quite normal this time of the year. The buzz had died down and you were grateful since you just cleaned the floor, and didn’t look forward to having to do it again if someone else entered through the door with their wet shoes, the welcome mat at the entrance seeming to not do its job very effectively.

Your attention quickly shifted when you heard your phone ring and grabbed it out of your back pocket, heart beating a little faster when you saw who was calling.

“Vancouver Academy Preschool”

You had spent hours teasing Brock about how uptight this school sounded. It was preschool for crying out loud, and both you and Brock went to public school and turned out just fine, but he wasn’t budging. Only the very best for his boy. You didn’t feel a single trace of amusement seeing the name now though, only anxious as to why they could be calling.

“Good Afternoon, is this Brooks’ mom, YN speaking?” a woman's voice echoes over the speaker.

“Uh- that’s me but I’m not-”

“Oh thank goodness, we weren’t able to get in contact with his father, I’m glad I could at least reach one of his parents.” she continues, interrupting you before you could correct her that you weren’t Brooks’ mom. Brock was still at the rink, that’s probably why he wasn’t answering. “I’m Brooks’ teacher and I’m calling because there was an accident at school today and we were wondering if you would be able to come pick Brooks up from school?”

Your throat constricts a little at what she's saying, not being able to comprehend the words Brooks and accident in one sentence. “An accident? What accident? Is he hurt?” you ask frantically, questions flying one after the other.

“He’s perfectly fine ma’am. He had a little fall and bumped his head. There was a little scratch but we had our school nurse clean it up and check him out, but we thought since there were only a few hours left of school anyway and he seemed a bit upset, it may be better if he just went home for the day.”

Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, seeing that it was only noon. You had another four hours to work at most, but you also knew that Brock probably wasn’t going to see the school’s messages before then and you couldn’t leave Brooks at school until then. The thought of him hurt and upset was enough to make you remove the apron from your waist and say, “I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Sounds serious,” you hear from your left seeing Lydia, one of your waitresses standing there.

“It was Brooks’ school. I need to go pick him up. I know it was your day to leave early but do you think you can stay until closing time? If you really can’t we’ll just close up early today,” you ramble, moving to grab your coat and searching for your keys.

“Of course, don’t even worry about it, I’ll close up.” she says

“I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t even try to apologise. You do what you need to for your kids, I get that.” and she did. Having two kids of her own.

“I know but he’s not even really mine. Not biologically at least. It’s not the same and I know this was your Friday to leave early,” you say remorsefully.

“Stop that. He’s yours in every way that matters. If I’ve ever seen anyone be a mom to that little boy, it’s you.” she says and your eyes sting a little and you have to blink up at the ceiling for a minute to stop them from falling.

“Thank you. I owe you one, I’ll see you Monday?” you ask and make your way out the door when she nods.

How you ended up in this situation, you honestly had no idea. It hadn’t been your intention to end up having your name registered as a parental contact. But you did feel an immense sense of warmth that Brock trusted you enough to do it.

Brock had been your friend for many years, and when Brooks came into the world, he only brought you closer. You would have never wished for Brooks’ mom to abandon him and Brock, and you would forever hold resentment in your heart for her because of that, but it did create a hole in their lives that you had somehow filled.

When you pull into the parking lot at Brooks’ school, you clench the steering wheel tightly and let out a big breath, releasing all the confusing thoughts about your role in Brooks’ life and the confusing relationship you had with his father. One day maybe you’d address those thoughts, but today isn’t that day.

You step out of the car, pulling your coat tighter around you to shield from the cold and take a little jog up to the front entrance. The receptionist immediately glanced up when you entered and sent you a quick smile.

“Hi I’m here to pick up Brooks Boeser,” you say and her eyes widened significantly, looking a lot more interested when she heard that last name and called through to the classroom. That almost would have been amusing had you not been preoccupied by your nerves about Brooks. You knew Brock paid a lot of big donations and checks that ensured him and Brooks were treated well here, and it looked like that treatment extended to you.

A door buzzes open and through comes Brooks, his hands tightly clasped on the straps of his backpack, his feet shuffling against the ground.

His eyes were red, cheeks flushed, a little bandaid on his forehead where you assumed the little scratch was. As he neared you his eyes teared up and the bottom lip started to wobble.

“Yn!” he yells, picking up his pace when he sees you and tripping into your legs, wrapping his arms around them.

“Oh my little love, did you get hurt?” You ask bending down and pushing his hair away from his forehead and gently running your fingers over the bandaid, as he nods.

“What exactly happened?” you ask his teacher who was only standing a few feet away observing the interaction.

“Brooks was playing outside with a friend and when he came back inside his shoes were wet and he ran, slipped and fell. He hit his head against a table and there’s a little scrape but as I said on the phone our nurse checked him out and he seems to be just fine. I can contact the nurse to talk with you if you’d like” the teacher says 

“That won’t be necessary, I trust that everything was handled as it should be,” you say in a tone suggesting that anything else would be ridiculous since Brock spends so much money on this school.

“Brooks was so excited when he found out his mom was coming to get him,” his teacher redirects the conversation and you smile tightly at her, that word causing your throat to squeeze tightly.

You squeeze Brooks tightly, the little boy still clinging to you as if his life depended on it. You pick him up, throwing his bag over your shoulder and making your way to the door when the teacher holds it open for you.

“Thank you,” you say politely and she smiles back at you.

“Have a good weekend. I’ll see you on Monday Brooks,” she says as you make your way to your car.

When Brooks is tightly secured in his car seat and you’ve let the car warm up a bit, you make your way to the arena.

“Wanna go visit daddy at work?” you ask Brooks, reaching back and squeezing his foot when you reach a red light.

“Yes!” he yells and you smile at his excitement.

“He’ll be happy to see you,” you say, focusing your attention back on the road.

“Happy to see you too,” Brooks replies and you glance at him in the mirror seeing a teasing little smile on that face.

“You think so?” you ask and he nods

“Uncle Petey told dad he’s happiest when he sees you,” Brooks says matter of factly

“Have you been listening to your dad’s conversations again?” you ask and he smiles guiltily

“No. They thought I was sleeping,” he admits softly and you smile, shaking your head at him. He’s sneaky. 

“Do you love my daddy?” Brooks asks and you swallow thickly thinking about it for a second. You knew Brooks was going to be asking about your friendship with his dad sooner or later, you’d just hoped it was later and that Brock was the one being asked.

You didn’t know how to say it without giving Brooks the wrong idea, and you definitely didn’t need him running back to his dad and telling him about your feelings for him. You weren’t entirely sure Brock was over what happened with Brooks’ mom. You didn’t think he was in love with her, but the way she just left and abandoned both of them still had an effect on Brock. He still hadn’t gone back to dating even after all these years. 

“Of course I love your dad. He’s my best friend in the whole world.” you tell him and he smiles happily.

“Do you think my dad is pretty?” Brooks asks curiously 

“He’s very pretty, just like you,” you say to Brock’s mini-me.

“My dad thinks you’re pretty too. He told uncle Quinny while you were making noodles,” Brooks says, referring to a few days ago when you cooked pasta for Brock and a few guys at his place.

“Are you two going to get married?” Brooks asks and you nearly swerve off the road.

“What made you have that idea?” you ask more calmly than you feel

“A girl in my class said that if two people love each other and think they’re pretty, they get married,” Brooks explains

“It’s a bit more complicated than that bud,” you say gently, relieved as you finally pull up to the arena.

You walk into the arena, Brooks’ hand clasped tightly in yours and wait in a little room you were directed to while someone called for Brock. You were sitting on a couch, Brooks cuddled up in your lap when Brock finally entered the room, closing the door behind him. Brock observed the two of you for a second, a strange emotion clouding his face. 

“Dad! Look, I have a scratch on my head!” he says as you stand up and walk towards Brock, Brooks still on your hip. 

Brock’s panicked eyes find yours before brushing Brooks’ hair away so he could inspect the little scratch more carefully, his other hand falls to your waist, pulling both of you close.

“He had a little fall, scraped his head, he’s okay. I took care of it,” you reassure him, and Brock’s shoulders relax a little bit.

Brock nods, pressing a kiss to Brooks’ forehead before moving to kiss your cheek, and your breath hitches at the intimate gesture. Brock had always been affectionate but lately he’s been doing a lot more often and openly. 

“I’m gonna go grab my stuff, I’ll be back in a sec. Do you need anything?” Brock asks, his hand caressing the skin at your waist lightly.

“No, we’re fine. Go finish up,” you say and he smiles, giving you both a peck again before leaving the room again. 

Later that day when you’ve got Brooks passed out in his bed, Brock joins you in the living room taking a seat on the couch, sitting as close to you as he can without actually touching you.

Brock leans his head back, letting out a trembling breath. 

“He’s okay Brock. It’s just a little scratch. You know that if I suspected he wasn’t okay I would’ve taken him to-”

“I know. It’s just that you shouldn’t have to. It’s my job to take care of him and I wasn’t there.” Brock says and you sigh, moving even close to him.

“Look at me,” you insist softly, and he does, his gaze so incredibly soft and fond it makes your heart feel like it’s going to burst.

“You’re a great dad Brock. You love that little boy so much, and he knows it. You’re doing the best that you can and it’s okay to ask for help sometimes.” you say and his hand falls to your upper thigh, caressing it softly.

“It’s not fair to you,” he argues

“I love that little guy and there’s nothing I love more than taking care of him. Of both of you.” you say and Brock looks at you for a moment.

“I love you,” he confesses and you can feel a ball forming in your throat.

“I love you too,” you reply and Brock shakes his head.

“No, I love you. I’m in love with you. I always have been” 

“Brock-”

“I can never bring myself to regret being with Brooks’ mom. You weren’t available back then and I was convinced you never would be, but somehow your ex managed to mess it up and you were single and I was so happy because I was finally gonna get my shot. And then Brooks happened and I love that kid to death, so I could never ever regret it, but it’s always been you.” he says softly, framing your face with both hands and kissing you softly. 

“This family isn’t complete without you. I hope you know that.” Brock says, gently caressing your face when he pulls away. 

“Will you stay the night?” he asks and you smile.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” you answer, and a few weeks later all your things were in that house, knowing you were never leaving again. 

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 14.

Summary: Our second look through Oliver's eyes as he thinks back on the night he and Felix get champagne drunk on the bridge, and then when he gets to Saltburn. Looking around both Y/N and Felix's rooms, he gets to know more about them, and finally he meets the Catton Family.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: suggestive themes, reader is said/implied to be high for some of the chapter (based on my experiences & understanding of weed)

A/N: 8506 words. you have all deserved a good feed and i am here to provide. sorry it's been a week, the dam broke, things are looking good in my personal life which is nice, and i am BACK on main fic nonsense. we get another Ollie POV, please let me know what you think, im so excited to have everyone at the estate and hanging out!! got big plans going forward!! excited to be setting it all up!! yeah please feedback, my darling friends!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Sometimes Oliver feels like he was put on this Earth solely to exist in Felix Catton's affectionate gaze. Everything else in life is just filler.

That night on the bridge, he and Felix in suits, drunk on champagne and bathed in the twilight of the evening, will haunt him, he's sure. He welcomes it with open arms, surfacing when his mind is idle and elsewhere. Felix smiling at him, Felix trying to bring him closure even if he doesn't really need it, Felix hanging on his every word, ever story he would fabricate to keep Felix's eyes fixed on him and only him. Felix so close, Felix with his arm around Ollie, Felix's thigh pressed up against his as they sat alone on the edge of the bridge.

Felix, Felix, Felix.

Oliver feels dwarfed by him, never more so than these moments where Felix insists on occupying Oliver's personal space, and then some. But he'll never complain; Felix's affection is intoxicating, addicting even. To be so wrapped up in it, in him, it's bliss, though Oliver never wanted to seem needy for such affection, that's why he waits for these moments, for Felix to make first contact. He wonders if Felix had realised the way you so quickly had in the beginning.

Everyone reaches out for Felix, everyone else appears so desperate. Its why Oliver's always held back from touching him, always waited and let Felix make the first move. Felix was made to be wanted, he basks in it; Oliver gives him the chance to want. Isn't there a thrill in that? A novelty?

And to be wanted by Felix... That was a gift in itself too.

Oliver had, admittedly, been worried that he'd lost his chance at that. After sleeping with you, Felix holding him at arm's length, he could feel his grip slipping. Plucking at the strings of Felix's clear saviour complex was enough to claw back into his life, but he now knew his place was precarious, and most tentative of all was everything about you.

So he'd held back from you. On purpose. Often distinctly, even when you'd give these confused, disheartened looks. He tried not to look at you in those moments; his focus was Felix, Felix seemed harder won.

But when he'd tried to apologise on the bridge - at first he wasn't going to bring it up, but it was dark and he was reasonably drunk and the only person who's ever smiled like Felix had been smiling at him in that moment had been you - Felix had, at first, laughed him off. No, he can feel it now, weighing on him; he needs to balance the scales. He wants Felix so bad it aches in his bones, but Oliver knows his want goes beyond just the beautiful boy by his side. Every part of you, how you interact with the world, interact with him, the way you exist and exude confidence and love, drew Oliver in like a moth to a flame. If Felix is the hook, you were the line. The bait, and the trap. The sun, and it's warmth. He wants to always be the focus of your loving, attentive gaze. Always wants you to want him too.

Oliver is the helpless fly in the web you and Felix have woven, to be so lovingly obsessed with you both as you are, and yet still drawn further in, to love the love you share. He feels trapped and utterly helpless against his feelings for you both.

So he has to make it right. Has to make it... even? Was that how to make it right?

But Felix is different on the bridge. Different to the jealous creature he tried so clearly to hide in the weeks before. Something had changed.

"You never need to apologise for making them happy," he says easily, affectionately. Oliver tries to be insistent, that he never meant to get between the two of you. He's rambling and tipsy, but not enough to miss the faint choked noise of what Oliver could have sworn was intrigue that Felix makes at that, but he knows better than to dwell or comment on it. Instead, Felix claps him on the back; "you wanna make it up to me we can say you owe me one," he says far too easily.

"Owe you one what?" Oliver frowns, playing oblivious for a moment as he takes a sip of the champagne before Felix gives him a cheeky wink and a grin.

"Shag, of course."

Oliver does a spit take with surprise, not having thought Felix would be so casual and genuine about it, almost falling off of the bridge in the moment. Felix catches him, arm around him as he laughs through an apology.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry mate," he wheezes, carefully clapping Ollie on the shoulder, "also I apologise for assuming, poor form, sometimes I forget people can be weird about these things- not saying you'd be weird, we've just never spoken about this kind of thing."

It speaks to how much he must genuinely trust Oliver, considering how light the conversation remains. Or perhaps it's the bubbly. Still, Oliver has a little bit of an inkling about what this kind of thing may be. But part of him needs Felix to say it, to confirm his suspicions, to keep stringing him along with further crumbs of hope.

"Assuming what?"

There's a single moment, the way in which Felix looks at Oliver out of the corner of his eyes, smile briefly frozen on his face as he must be considering the weight of what he's about to say. Its in the moment that follows, when Felix laughs almost self consciously and withdraws his hand that Oliver wonders how out Felix is. Oliver had always just kind of assumed - hoped - on the basis of his relationship with Y/N, but it occurs to him that the general perception of Felix, the talk and rumours and gossip that surrounded him, never really entertained the idea that he was actually queer. Felix's affection towards everyone in his life was simply a by-product of who he was, and you're his best friend - and his cousin, according to Farleigh - so of course you don't count, and otherwise Felix Catton was a known lady's man, right?

Not quite, it seemed.

"That you'd even be into guys like that," it sounds so easy when Felix says it, like Oliver can't see the tension in his shoulders as he reaches over, taking the bottle of champagne back. Its almost empty. Oliver doesn't mind if he finishes it.

Felix looks at the sky, at the stars.

Oliver thinks about the VHS tape of Maurice that he stole from a rental store after looking at the back cover. He'd kept it stashed in his sock drawer and watched every week under the cover of absolute darkness until it literally became unplayable. Yes, Oliver liked guys, and spent his teen years having just as many lewd fantasies about boys with posh accents, and charmingly youthful features, and floppy, brown hair, as he did about girls with big, dark eyes, and high, perfect cheek bones, in bright red wedding dresses. His sisters hated Beetlejuice, thought it was gross, but he and his mother would watch it together on occasion, sharing a blanket his gran had crocheted, and a bowl of popcorn. She'd get all giggly over Alec Baldwin, while Oliver couldn't help but fall for Winona Ryder for the duration of the film, every time.

For a moment, he thinks of the sunlit kitchen he grew up in, and his mother cooking Sunday lunch with a record playing. The last Sunday before he left for Oxford. In the yard, he can hear his father mowing the lawn, and he's sure Emily is in her room packing for her own journey back to her third year of studying. But Oliver comes out of his room just as Jump in Line (Shake Senora) begins to play. Serendipity. Already excited by the song, his mother looks up from the dishes, and practically lights up at the sight of her son. She's going to ask him to dance. He's going to say yes. They're both going to love this moment; she says it's their song, and Oliver dances along to their song. When it's over, Oliver won't admit that he's disappointed it had to end, but he tells his mother he'll miss her too when she hugs him especially tightly. For that one moment he hadn't ached to leave the way he'd been for months, for years.

Looking now at the rock in the rubbish that represented his father, there's a momentary pang of guilt for lying so dramatically about him he hadn't been expecting. So he pushes it out of his mind.

Felix finishes the bottle, and Oliver watches him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. Effortlessly beauty.

Oliver wants to focus on his future, not his past.

"Haven't got too much experience with 'em, but that doesn't stop me from liking them well enough," feeling especially bold, he levels a sly smile at Felix, "so if it's all good with you, maybe we do say I owe you one."

Felix blushes the most beautiful scarlet as he barks a loud, pleased laugh. But most importantly, he relaxes.

"It's not that hard," he offers so nonchalantly, amending with a sheepish grin, "well it is, that's part of the point -" but Oliver can't help himself.

"I said I didn't have a lot of experience, didn't say I was completely inexperienced."

"No, I know," Felix's voice turns all smug and teasing, and Oliver can feel his face beginning to heat up as he realised the implications of Felix's tone, "I've heard rave reviews." Oliver had taken the time to have his fun, to have a few hook ups here and there in the past year, usually with girls or guys from town or other campuses who had no idea who he was otherwise. There's only one person who'd be giving him rave reviews, as Felix had called them.

Huh. It's quite the compliment; he had gone out of his way to give you the kind of attention he suspected few people ever bestowed upon you, but rave reviews? What had you actually told Felix?

Instead, considering that this still feels like potentially rocky territory, he tries to bring it back.

"It's one of the few ways I ever really learned how to make people feel appreciated," his gaze drops with his tone, and hopes that Felix takes the bait. The threads that tie back to the story of his unfortunate upbringing, but also perhaps the threads that subconsciously tie his attitude and behaviour to you in Felix's mind. Even if you don't say it, he knows it's part of how you operate, and he's willing to bet that Felix had picked up on that too.

It works. Felix wraps an arm around him, assuring him that he has so much to offer the world. God, he sounds so sincere when he says it; if Oliver hadn't knowingly baited him into the compliment, he would have believed him entirely. At the very least he basks in how good it is to hear Felix say.

They talk through the night, Oliver tentatively feeling his way towards his goal, the opportunity to spend Summer with Felix too, to make sure this connection doesn't wither in the interim. Of course he plays at being humble, at refusing the offer despite how clearly uninhabitable the sob story home he'd made up for himself was, but just as he'd predicted, Felix, ever the saviour, refuses to take no for an answer. Apparently his mother has people stay for months at a time anyhow. Oliver wonders idly if that's where Felix got it from.

"Y/N will be so pleased, I can tell you that," Felix mentioned with fondness. Of course Oliver had anticipated that you would probably be spending at least some of your Summer with them, but he's surprised that when he enquires further, Felix admits, "yeah they live with me at Saltburn when we're not at school, have for ages now."

"What, all the time? They really are a ward of the Saltburn Estate?"

Felix wears a strange little smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes; there's an unfamiliar kind of melancholy that doesn't look quite right on him, Oliver thinks, as Felix shrugs again.

"Some people's parents just aren't meant to be parents."

For a split second Oliver feels a rush of guilt as he comes to realise he may have fabricated a life for himself that you had actually lived. In the moment, however, he dips his head, a sign that he understands, that he agrees.

"Then we're lucky to have you."

Felix throws an arm around his shoulders, pulls him in tightly and presses a kiss to the side of his head, assuring him it's no trouble at all.

"What are friends for?"

Yes, this moment would be burned into his brain; Felix so warm beside him, Felix smiling against his temple, Felix champagne drunk and willing to share his life, if only for six weeks. Every fibre of Oliver's being is willing it to work out, willing it to be more than just these six weeks -

Felix, Felix, Felix.

Except the minute he knocks on the doors of the house that looms so large he feels like he's about to be swallowed whole by it, he feels like he's failed a test. The look in the terrifying doorman's eyes, his tone of voice, the unflinching scrutiny when faced with Oliver's continual awkwardness and questions, makes him feel like he's failed several more in rapid succession.

Oliver's actually pretty sure he's never been quite so glad to see Felix as the exact moment he calls out to Oliver with absolute joy. Which is saying something. It's never felt like Felix is judging him, at least not in a way he can't pass. Thank fuck. Felix, in this moment, is the only one who matters, he tells himself.

That being said, Oliver had been expecting you to be by Felix's side when he'd come bounding in to save him from Duncan's scrutiny. That's generally where he's come to expect you. Not that he wasn't grateful for Felix giving the tour, it was just... unexpected.

Honestly, when you appear from a door on the other side of the long gallery, opposite Felix's bedroom, Oliver's surprised by how relieved he is to see you. The room you've exited seems to be themed in pale purple from the brief glimpse Oliver sees, and you've got a leather bound folder in your arms, but neither of those is nearly so interesting as the look in your eyes. Looking back, Oliver sees Felix lounging in his doorframe, looking between you both with patient amusement.

"Ollie!"

Oliver's pretty sure no-one in his life has ever sounded this excited to see him. The only person who comes closes would be Felix, five minutes ago.

"Ollie, oh Ollie - Fi, hold this," you pass off your folder to Felix, who of course takes it without argument, before Oliver's swept up in a tight hug, "you're early, you smell nice," you hug him so enthusiastically the two of you spin for a moment, before pulling back, holding him at arm's length like you're assessing the state of him. Instead, you beam, holding his hands as you turned to Felix, "Fi, Ollie's here! We love Ollie!"

This time when you meet Oliver's gaze, he's surprised to see not just love, but want. You'd worn that look in the weeks before the two of you had fucked, like all you could think about was how you'd once begged him to want you, and how he of course admitted he did. When had he started missing this look in your eyes? All he can think about is that night in the warmth of your bed, the way you'd sounded so fucking certain and needy - of course I want you - and how he can see it in your eyes again now. For a moment his mind and resolve is fuzzy; why had he ever stopped reaching out for you?

"We do love Ollie," Felix agreed with further amusement, and that's when he remembers. Except... this isn't the jealous version of Felix that had shown up in the aftermath. This was the Felix who'd brushed off Oliver's apologies about the whole ordeal on the bridge and proceeded to overtly, if jokingly, flirt with him. Already he feels just a touch more relaxed in this new dynamic that was being set up for the Summer.

Actually, Oliver, for just a second, thinks he may have died and gone to heaven.

"Fuck, Ollie, look at your nails," he hears next, however, and it immediately shatters the illusion as he pulls his hands away from you and your judgemental eyes.

"Don't be mean," Felix chides, and you look up with surprised, as if you hadn't realised your own less than complimentary tone. Looking between Oliver and Felix, there's apology in your eyes.

"Sorry Ollie," you're quick to offer, and he awkwardly tries to act like he's not embarrassed, "I'll give you a manicure, I can paint your nails; we can match!" You smiled brightly, hands pressed flat and warm to his chest all of a sudden, "I match Fi's shirt today; Farleigh painted my nails -" your eyes go wide as if you'd just remembered; "Farleigh; shit."

You run for the door to the blue room. Oliver, deeply confused, watches you go. Then, he hears Felix sigh with fond exasperation, holding out the leather folder. A moment later you burst through the door again.

"Documents. Shit. Thanks, Fi!"

And you're off again.

"Is this... how they normally are just at Saltburn?" Oliver finally asks with faint concern, looking from the door to Felix in the darkened doorframe.

"My lovely cousin is an atrocious influence on our dear Y/N," Felix said with incredible diplomacy. But Oliver's mind momentarily catches on the wording.

Our Y/N.

Just like before, a strange thrill, a rush; he remembers the look in your eyes when he'd first said 'Our Felix' to you. An exclusive kind of possessive, one you'd willingly share with Oliver. He liked this dynamic, he wondered how hard he'd have to push it to get beyond the simple semantics.

We love Ollie!

We do love Ollie.

Perhaps it wouldn't be too difficult at all.

"What do you mean?" He asks instead, and Felix turns to him with that same amused smile.

"They're fine, don't worry mate, they're just high is all," clearly Felix's feelings are mixed on the subject; Oliver knows he has no problems with getting high himself, so he suspects Felix cares more about Oliver's first impressions of his home and his family than he was wanting to let on. You were his right hand after all. There's something endearing about how much he seems to want Oliver to want to be here. Which he does, for the record.

"So this is your room?" Oliver enquires, shooting for brightness, despite the momentary awkwardness. He watches the tension leave Felix's shoulders. It's enough for Oliver, and his gaze drifts, roams around and tries to catalogue every single piece of Felix he can glean from the clutter. Even with an army of servants there's something unkempt about how he decorates the otherwise old and ornate space. CDs he'll spend time poring over, stacks of books, and trinkets, and tchotchkes. Felix even has a balcony; stone railings and enough decorative chairs, and even a lounge and small table, for company.

Here and there in the room itself, however, a few things seem out of place; shoes that didn't look like Felix's sitting neatly by the door, two dressing gowns, one maroon and tossed over the bed, the other in navy and draped more deliberately over the end of the bed. Two glasses of water, one on either side of the bed. Tell-tale signs that clue Oliver in before Felix even confirms it -

"Mine and Y/N's, yeah," he says it so easily, so nonchalantly, no bothering with pretence here at Saltburn, "you'll be staying just next door," Felix continues on with a wide, easy smile over his shoulder as he continued to flit through the rooms, catching light, voice echoing amongst the decorative walls.

"Bathroom," he offers, before turning, adding, "we're going to be sharing a bathroom, by the way, I hope you don't mind," and Oliver finds himself drawn to the sight of the ornate bath, as if on purposeful display in the middle of the room, "otherwise you'd be miles away on the other end of the house," Felix explains, continuing on without even considering his words as he says them. No, of course Oliver didn't mind.

All Oliver can think of is everything that simple sentence implied. Closeness. Implicit want. A sudden flash in Oliver's mind as Felix continues through to the dressing room, of sweat beading along skin and hands clutching desperately at the cool, porcelain edge of the tub, of water sloshing and spilling and overflowing, and the sound of breathless moaning -

He tries to focus, tries to simply watch Felix's hands as he taps idly on the red walls of the dressing room as he lead into what Oliver can only assume to be his room. He stays out of his head, leans into the moment, and lets himself relax as Felix gestures broadly, brightly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Your room!"

It's bright, all wide, open windows looking over the beautiful grounds of Saltburn, honey coloured wood and lamps that glow in such a way that he was reminded of Oxford. Already someone's brought his suitcase up, set it out at the end of the bed; he'd get to unpacking that later tonight, for now he took his time relaxing into the space. Felix had already sat himself down, seemingly at home in the old, wooden rocking chair, watching Oliver, almost like he was trying to hide his nervous anticipation.

"I'm really glad you're here, mate," for just a moment, Felix sounds more honest than he'd been since Oliver had arrived. There's something in his eyes that Oliver hadn't been anticipating, in the brief moment in which their gazes meet. There's a kind of arrogance, Oliver thinks, to calling even a sliver of it something like love, but it's adoration and appreciation nonetheless. It's gone in a flash, too brief to be anything serious, he thinks once more as Felix stands, "right, I will, er... I'll leave you to it."

And Oliver is quiet. It's a kind of reverence, or perhaps it reads like shock and awe at the whole place, but he listens quietly as Felix tells him about his mother's aversion to stubble and ugliness and piercings and -

"Anything else I should know about?" Finally he asks, sensing Felix was close to rambling on a nervous tangent. Thankfully, Felix actually seems relieved by the interruption, assuring him that there was nothing else to worry about.

Felix tells Oliver that he just needs to be himself, that his family will love him. That it's relaxed. Oliver loves Felix dearly, but doubts he, a man who rarely seems to be anything but relaxed, would be the best judge of that. Especially in a place like this. Still, Oliver smiles like he believes him, and watches the way Felix hangs himself back from the door on his heels, almost like a little kid, telling Oliver that his family will be in the library when he's ready.

Library?

His mental image of Saltburn grows with each moment. Soon it will overwhelm him, he's sure.

So he tries, just for the moment, to get acquainted with the room he's been given. His own, honey-coloured piece of Saltburn, if only for the Summer. Hopefully beyond, that dreamy little voice of want whispers in the back of his mind. Another flash of desire runs through him, the image of a quiet evening on Felix's balcony, a purple sky and a glass of scotch, book in one hand and Felix's head in his lap. He'd be too big for the little sofa, legs hanging off the edge, but he's comfortably fallen asleep with Oliver's fingers carding through his hair; when you drape yourself over Oliver's shoulders, there's loving affection in the way you call them 'your boys' -

God he'd been entertaining these fantasies for months, sure, almost since he'd met you and Felix, but never this vivid, never so detailed or hard to push away, to pretend like he'd never had them when he next tries to look you both in the eyes.

Yeah, me and Y/N's room. You're right next door. We'll be sharing a bathroom.

This is either going to be a dream, or the hardest Summer of his life. Pun entirely intended.

The room itself is rather charming, once Oliver finally breaks free of his own fantasies. Charming in a different way to the rest of the house, but in a way that was hard to put his finger on at first. Saltburn was like if a place could put on a performance of itself, none of it felt lived in, or at least, not for a very long time. Except Felix's room, it had his youth and carelessness that gave it a feeling of home, as, for some reason, did Oliver's.

Except then he sees them. Then he understands. There's space stickers on the top drawer of what he can only assume is the otherwise expensive bedside table. Some are peeled off, some even leaving the ugly, half-peeled, paper residue of planets and stars and little cartoon astronauts. The second of the two drawers is in much the same state, but depicting a faded sea creature theme. It's so unexpectedly, joyfully childish. There's two books in the top drawer, a collection of Edgar Allen Poe's short stories, and a copy of Emma. Oliver swallows hard, trying not to wonder what you must mean by that. Otherwise the drawers are empty, almost hotel-like in it's severe starkness.

There's other little things, however. Fairy lights curled up and around the headboard that glow a comforting, warm white once he finds their switch. A digital clock at odds with the rest of the room's aesthetics, red numbers glowing in the afternoon light. The painting on the wall above the bookshelf that looks far more modern than anything else he'd seen so far on the walls, a rich, blue night sky glittering with stars, and a dreamy silhouette of a figure with a cigarette almost glowing orange against the darkness. Despite the vagueness of the figure, there's a comfort, a kind of love with which they'd been captured that Oliver can somehow feel in his chest when he looks at it.

The little bookshelf itself in the corner is filled with titles he can imagine you specifically enjoying, but a few anomalies here and there - books on botany and Edwardian flower code stick out in particular. It's completed with a small stack of CDs and a CD player gathering dust on top. When he crouches down, however, he's surprised to see an old, portable cassette deck taking up space on the bottom row of the bookshelf, mostly hidden behind several stacks of what appeared to be blank cassette tapes, crammed into the very corner, almost out of sight.

How strange. How... human.

There is an echo of someone else in this room, but to his relief, it feels like you. For the barest moment, he almost feels like he's already home.

It's a short-lived feeling, however, as Felix's words come back to him once more. His reflection in the bathroom mirror as he carefully rids himself of even the barest traces of stubble, doesn't meet the standards he's sure the mother of Felix Catton must hold.

Oliver's never considered himself particularly beautiful, nor did pretty much anyone else, it had always seemed. His mother was of course biased, Felix was filled with too much affection to be considered anywhere near reliable about that sort of things, and you - something inside Oliver squirms almost with embarrassment for even thinking so poorly of himself in the past few moments. Maybe a face like his would make Felix's mum happy, if the look in your eyes meant anything, every time you saw him.

Oliver chooses to leave the way he was brought in, taking a long few moments in Felix's room, leaving it untouched, undisturbed, but treating it like a museum to his best friend, clues about his life he couldn't glean from conversation alone. Felix's bookshelves were bigger than yours, stacked with comics amid countless fantasy and adventure books, but a surprising number of cowboy and western titles, though it's not as if there appears to be any kind of sorting system. There's a ceramic bowl that looks hand made, full of faded wristbands for events all over the world for the past five years. There's a shoebox that apparently used to hold a pair of lady's runners, now sitting at the end of one row that now has 'A Stupid Box For Feefs Stupid Rocks <3' sharpied on top in handwriting he doesn't recognise. A thick textbook about space on the bottom shelf with a cracked, worn spine and sticky tabs seeming to note various pages, various guitar tab books for different, popular bands that Felix would definitely be interested in. Four decks of cards stacked on top of each other, boxes looking so worn and used they were practically falling apart.

For a very long time, Oliver finds himself caught, looking at the little cork board full of photos leaning on top of the bookshelf. Countless photos of Felix, Farleigh, Venetia, and Y/N throughout the years. He hadn't realised just how long you and Felix had even known each other. How long you'd practically been a fixture at Saltburn in the Summer. There's a photo of the four of you all in your bathers, laying asleep on the grass beside the lake, all next to each other on brightly coloured towels, none of you could have been older than twelve; you fit right in along with the rest of them.

There's a photo strip, the kind taken in a booth at a mall or a museum, that Oliver thinks he recognises, but it takes him a long moment of staring at it to figure out why. It's you and Felix, and the strip itself says it's from an aquarium. Smiling. Laughing. You blurry, covering your laughter as Felix looks particularly goofy and pleased with himself, as if he'd just told a stupid joke. The last one has been ripped off.

Oh. Right. He'd seen it while snooping through Felix's wallet a few months ago; the photo had been the reason he'd put the wallet back at all. The way the two of you were kissing in the final photo, so wrapped up in each other, and love, and joy, had made Oliver feel almost physically sick with both want and jealousy.

God, he has to leave, has to stop snooping again and actually find this library and the rest of the Cattons.

Walking through Saltburn's many rooms alone makes Oliver feel like he's constantly out of bounds at a museum. There's hints of life throughout the building, but they're few and far between compared to the ornamental, carefully curated decorations of each room. Even the hints of the Cattons themselves seemed... too purposeful. The little, animated 'Catton Family Players' puppet show is the kind of thing only rich, whimsical weirdos could ever think was charming, and not just bizarre, vain, and haunting in the same way that porcelain dolls were.

But then he hears laughter, and warm chatter from down a hall, and the tinny, purposeful shouting from what could only be a movie or TV show. It sounds so much like his own family's living room on a cheerful evening that it's almost relaxing. Almost.

Because as he's approaching, he realises they're talking about him. They're picking apart the life he'd fed Felix as if it were mere gossip, speaking so airily, their sentiment so clearly out of touch that he'd probably find it amusing if he didn't have to pretend to be living it. Briefly, he wonders if they spoke like this about your life, or if the novelty of you had worn off in the years before. Perhaps you were just glad they could focus their pity and unapologetic classicism on someone else for a change; he couldn't hear you in there, which surprised him. Maybe part of him had expected you to defend him the way you had back at Oxford. Maybe you don't feel like you can at Saltburn. At least Felix sounds embarrassed, irritated as he admonishes Farleigh for having told the rest of the family.

Before he enters the library where the rest of the family has gathered, Oliver pauses by the door, both to get a better idea of what they're already thinking about him, but also because he'd spotted someone watching him from one of the adjacent rooms.

Bleach blonde hair, stars clinging to the tights on her legs, she's reading a book that Oliver can't quite see the cover of. Venetia was written on the collar of the little, blonde puppet in the Catton Family Players; Oliver suspects this is her. Oliver thinks she could be considered very beautiful, if she didn't seem quite so sharp. The way she huffs a laugh and wears a dangerously amused smile after she'd taken her own time in analysing him seems to prove as much. That being said, Oliver's not sure if she's laughing at something about him, or about the fact that they can both clearly hear her family's disparaging remarks about his apparent upbringing.

"Farleigh seems to think he's ghastly," Oliver hears a woman say as his hand comes to rest on the door handle, "why are you and our dear pet even friends with him, darling?"

"Dirt poor, not attractive, and his parents are drug addicts," a second woman's voice seems to surmise as Oliver lets himself into the room, "I can't actually -" but Felix makes a noise as he sees the door opening, and the woman goes quiet as Oliver peers in.

"And here he is now," Farleigh sounds as thrilled as he ever was to see Oliver, "we were just talking about you," like he's trying his best to make Oliver feel as unwelcome as possible. It's... kind of working. Bastard. However looking over at him does solve one mystery; you and Farleigh are sharing a sofa at the back of the room that's only just big enough for the both of you as long as you're tucked up against him, his arm slung over the back of the chair behind you.

And you're fast asleep against him.

The blonde woman on the sofa who shares Felix's elegant, effortless beauty admonishes Farleigh, even though Oliver can tell from her voice she was one of the ones very much talking about him only moments before. Oliver has the grace to pretend like he hadn't heard, though is still glad for the vaguely embarrassed, apologetic look Felix is already giving him.

This has to be Felix's mother, the blonde with the airy voice who immediately gets up to greet him, to assess him.

"Oh, what beautiful eyes," oh thank god, "oh, how wonderful!" There's genuine surprise and adoration in the way Felix's mother regards him, and Oliver can't help but feel relieved, like he's finally passed the first of what he's sure will be many tests during his life at the Saltburn estate.

"Yeah, we told you he wasn't a minger," Felix pointed out when his mother turns to him.

"Oh, but darling, you and pet are kind about everyone; neither of you can be trusted about those you're fond of." Pet? Does she mean Y/N? Suddenly Farleigh's comments over the months make a strange amount of sense. At the very least Oliver's heart begins to sing at the idea of you and Felix speaking so kindly of him to the others that they know you're both especially fond of him... And you both seem to think he's beautiful enough that you mention it when he's not around. Huh.

But yes, the moment the woman explains her aborrance of ugliness Oliver knows he's talking to Felix's mother. At least she seems to like him well enough, going so far as to ask if he'd seen Venetia yet, that even she'd been dying to see him, but had chosen to drape herself around the house as if laying in wait for him. Indeed that's how it had seemed when he'd spotted her earlier, but none of them have let Oliver get a word in edgewise.

Felix's father is the next to introduce himself, all long limbs and warm handshake to match his smile, just like his son. When he asks Oliver about his trip to the estate, Oliver finally breathes, can finally respond.

"Oh, God, don't with the 'sirs'," Felix's mother waves him over to sit down, insisting, "no, no, no, we can't stand anything like that here," though her outburst seems to have been enough to rouse you. As Oliver sits, he hears, syrupy and warm with sleep from behind him -

"Ollie!" As you had each time since he's arrived, you sound so genuinely delightful. Farleigh makes a noise in the back of his throat. Oliver turns in time to see you elbow Farleigh in the ribs.

"I liked you better when you were asleep."

"Fars," your voice drops low, like a warning, and Oliver's surprised by how sharply Farleigh looks away, jaw clenching tightly, "be good." Oliver almost thinks Farleigh might be angry, but then he sees the gentle way Farleigh's holding your shoulder, thumb rubbing circles against your upper arm; from what Oliver can see, he realises Farleigh's expression is almost embarrassed -

"Children, stop bickering," Felix's mother orders brightly, and your expression returns to unbothered and chipper as you refocus on Oliver.

"Hi Ollie," again, then as more of an offer to the rest of the room, "isn't he just lovely?" Oliver flushes, but gives you a fond smile, even as you settle back against Farleigh. Even though Farleigh persists with glaring at him, when he turns back, he rests his cheek against your head, oozing malevolence as he seemingly tucks himself against you too. But he does indeed remain quiet.

After the altercation passes, Oliver gets a brief introduction to one of the other house guests at Saltburn, Pamela, brief being the operative word as she's quickly sent away to ask about tea from one of the staff members at Felix's mother's insistence. Pamela herself doesn't exactly seem confident in the task, but that's once again when you speak up. Much to Oliver's surprise, you give a detailed physical description of the woman - Annie - and succinct directions to the kitchen itself, following it up with a yawn and -

"The Irish one, a bit mousy, might have trouble meeting your gaze but she's nice enough."

Pamela looks far more confident thanks to your directions. Oliver's genuinely shocked at your level of detail and knowledge, but everyone else seems to be so casually used to it.

"She is a bit like that, isn't she?" Felix's mother muses with an idle air, and when Oliver glances back at you, you still have your eyes closed, as if close to falling back asleep, while Farleigh has his faint, fond laughter pressed against your temple.

Before Oliver can even reckon with the moment that had just come to pass, Felix's mother is regaling him with all of Pamela's dirty laundry, before she dives right into pitying Oliver himself, and the sob story of his life and most recent 'tragedy' she's heard.

She looks at him just the same way Felix had. He think of the moment he'd decided to commit to this Dickensian kayfabe, that day in the pub when Felix's eyes were fixed on him, all pity and desire and a desperate need to fix, to save, to be a light in Oliver's life. The way this woman speaks, the way she looks at him in this moment, makes Felix Catton make total and complete sense. Something inside Oliver relaxes; she would not be hard won.

As they circle back around to the tragedy of poor Pamela, however, something about what Farleigh says, pointing out that the tragedy of her was the only interesting thing about her, sticks in the back of Oliver's mind.

Being beautiful and tragic would only ever get him so far, would only ever make him a novelty. It takes another glance back at you for him to realise a little more of why you behaved the way you did; tragic and beautiful and useful. That's the thought that turns over in his mind, even as Felix's mother starts her line of questioning about the sordid details of his upbringing, and Venetia joins them only to stare at him like a bug, and Farleigh only seems to be holding himself back from outright contempt at your behest. You are once again asleep. At least Felix makes a token effort to reprimand his mother, not that it appears to make much of a difference.

Oliver offers what little he can get away with, and feels only relief when Felix insists they start getting ready for dinner. Oliver practically bolts, he doesn't even wait for Felix like he probably should have, just desperately hoping he's got the right door to his own room. Clearly he has, swearing when he's finally in his little piece of sanctuary, but after a beat he realises that even that has been breached.

His suitcase is no longer at the foot of his bed.

In another moment, the door that connects his room to the bathroom squeaks open and there's two more people in his room without bothering to even knock. At least Felix is apologising for his mother. Part of Oliver thinks he should have expected the Cattons to be exactly as out of touch as this house implied, that he should have braced himself better, that it's not Felix's fault, but the apology is still nice.

Also he's rather distracted by the fact that all of his clothes have been organised neatly in the old, wooden cupboard.

"Did someone unpack my suitcase?" Oliver hears himself ask distractedly. Looking back when Felix makes a noise of guilt, he sees Felix sitting on the edge of his bed with an apologetic smile, and you next to him, laying back on the bed and looking at the ceiling.

"Uh, shit, yes, I should have told you," Felix admits, "they do that kind of thing here." Rich, whimsical weirdos, the lot of them, "the maids all report back to mum, by the way," Felix informs him, while you're just quietly swinging your legs off the edge of the bed. Felix's tone turns teasing, however, "so I hope you didn't pack anything scandalous." Oliver leans on the wooden foot of the bed, into Felix's space with an amused smile at the thought - pushing his luck, pushing into Felix's space to play off of the idea of scandal, so close to Felix and his mischievous smile. Felix leans back, the tease, giving Oliver space to quietly say -

"Just my old boxers."

You snicker. Felix grins.

"No, they're used to that, don't worry," but then Felix is up again, almost too close, looking at Oliver like he knows this is all some kind of joke, like he know - like he wants Oliver to keep looking at him, at his teasing smile, at his lips like that, "Duncan will be thrilled." Like this is all a game. Oliver snorts a laugh.

But the moment doesn't last, and Felix is moving again, getting up, telling Oliver a new rule - ahead of time this time. Dinner at Saltburn is an event you dress for, with the kind of dress code that requires a dinner jacket and cuff links and - Oliver would be properly embarrassed if it didn't mean he got to wear Felix's spare jacket. Felix seems almost embarrassed by it all, his casual nature clearly butting heads with the formality of his heritage. In this moment he almost seems childish, it's rather sweet. Judging by your smile, you're endeared by his behaviour without even having to see it; you hadn't even thought to sit up; your eyes have fallen closed, as if basking in this moment.

Oliver watches you, the way you radiate contentment. You were not born into Saltburn, but you'd made it your home. You'd won the love of Felix Catton, and a place in his life, that no-one else had managed to achieve. Hope was a beautiful thing, and you were both in this moment.

"I'm really happy you're here, Ol," Felix finally murmured, and finally Oliver believes him, "I'm sorry everything's so... old fashioned."

"No," Oliver's voice is soft, "it's wonderful."

The pleased smile Felix wears as he heads through to his own room makes everything about this strange, ritualistic, obsessive, critical world worth it. Over his shoulder, he asks if you'll be coming through too, and you tell him you'll catch up in a second. Felix closes the door over quietly, and after a moment, Oliver joins you, laying back on the bed.

"I like your room," Oliver breaks the silence after a moment. After a moment, a hum that's more like a contented laugh escapes you. You mumble a thanks; it's been a few hours since he'd seen you initially, your chatter had died down considerably, it seemed like you'd sobered up a good deal in the afternoon that had just passed.

There's a million things Oliver wants to say in this moment, things he wants to do, questions he has about you, about Felix, about Saltburn.

"It's not-" he finally starts, voice so soft as he finally turns to you, "it wasn't your fault, by the way."

When you turn to meet his gaze, there's surprise and confusion in your eyes, clearly not sure what he was referring to. Its been a long time now since he'd deliberately reached out for you, since you'd slept together, since Felix had first started giving him resentful looks. Things are better now. Much better.

"What?"

All it takes is a deliberate, gentle touch, his hand taking yours, apology in his eyes. Its enough to acknowledge that he'd spent time pulled away from you, that you weren't crazy to think that, and that you weren't at fault.

Oliver's always liked watching you process things, at least when you allow the world to see it happen on your face, not making an effort to hide it. You look down at his hand on yours, grip loose like more of a reassurance; raising your joined hands like you can't quite believe the sight, he takes the opportunity to link your fingers. It wasn't your fault.

Looking deliberately back at the ceiling, he gives you the time and space to process this development without feeling so watched.

"Oh," you mumble quietly, finally, "it's..." you give his hand a squeeze, "thanks?" Oliver smiles, and knows you see it, can see in his peripheries the way you're watching him now, but when he goes to withdraw his hand, you hold him tighter for just a beat, as if on instinct, before you let him go.

"Can I be bold for a moment?" He breaks the moment, breaks the tension, voice light and inquisitive.

"I like your boldness, Ollie, you know that," you respond automatically, matching his energy easily. Sitting up, Oliver turns to fix you with a scrutinising look for a long moment, and you wait, you watch him with eyebrows raised and an amused smile painted across your lips.

"You're sleeping with Farleigh," it's not a question. Your smile grows wider and far more smug.

"Ollie - Oliver - look at me," you prop yourself up on one elbow, gesturing down at your body, "look at where we are," you gesture around at the bedroom itself, "how many Summers do you think unrelated teenagers in close proximity, growing steadily more attractive with each passing year, can get through without ending up deciding to fuck to pass the time?"

Oliver, charmed by your blunt confidence, can't help but laugh, while also being able to connect enough dots to the implication that he should expect you to be just as close to Felix's sister too. You join him in his laughter, finally sitting yourself up. Oliver knocks his knee with yours, deliberate, and watches with a kind of fondness as you immediately focus on the moment of brief contact. You'd missed him, just as he'd anticipated.

But the laughter dies down, and you finally stand, sighing that you should probably get yourself ready for dinner too. Before stepping away, you lean back down with a wide, goofy smile that reminds Oliver a bit of Felix, and gently grasp his chin, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. Oliver, a little startled by the gesture but welcoming it nonetheless, feels want burn through his veins momentarily as he watches you head to the door.

"Oh, Ollie, there's some stuff under the sink for you," you yawned and stretched and Oliver tried desperately not to stare at the way your shirt rode up, "shampoo, toothpaste, contacts; junk like that, you know, just in case." Wait, what was that last one?

"Contacts?"

"Yeah," like it was perfectly fucking reasonable, your hand on the door, "in case you didn't bring any or you ran out - there's actually a spare pair of glasses as well, if you'd prefer. Same frames as yours, I wasn't sure-"

"You know my prescription?"

"Yeah?"

"How...?"

You go quiet. You shrug. Its not a real answer.

Right; a magician never reveals their secrets. Its not particularly reassuring for a man lying about a large portion of his life.

For now Oliver just tries to remind himself of the way you look at him, the way you want him, the way he loves you, for who you are, for all you can do.

"Thank you," he says quietly, gives you a smile and hopes you believe it, "you're good to me." He's not sure what about that surprises you, but he catalogues this in the back of his mind. There's something beautiful and, he suspects, rare, about catching you off guard. But your next words are enough to return the favour, have his heartbeat in his ears, hopeful and quick as a humming bird right before you leave.

"Of course I am, Ollie, I love you."

And he's not sure why, but he believes you.

[theemporium]

Sunshine comforting Daniel when he’s stressed 🥹

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Everyone had their off days.

He knew that. He really did. It was totally normal and human to have days where you didn’t feel the best, or didn’t work as hard as you could’ve. It was totally normal and human to have days where you just felt down or overwhelmed.

Daniel knew that.

But his bad days were broadcasted for the whole world to see, and it didn’t make things any easier. It had just been a series of events all fuelled by bad luck: a faulty car during practices, long pit stops, crashes caused by other drivers that left him as collateral.

None of it was his fault, but it didn’t make him feel any less responsible. He let fans down. He let the team down. He let himself down. The last stint of bad races were taking a toll on him, and bottling it up seemed to be working fine until now.

The smiles were harder to fake. The disappointment was harder to mask. The interviews felt like twisting the knife already jabbed into his stomach. And the comments from fans online only added salt to the wound.

It was media day. The start of a new race weekend. And usually, Daniel was good at letting things roll off his back and focus on the future. Until today, at least, when he found himself huddled in his driver's room, unable to find the guts to walk out to the rest of the paddock and pretend like he was okay.

It had been the PR manager who approached you. They couldn’t find Daniel. He wasn’t answering anybody’s calls or messages. And when they knocked on the driver’s room door, they received no answer even though it was locked.

They were worried, and if anyone could get through to him, it was you.

You didn’t think twice before you made your way over to the Red Bull motorhome. You ignored most of your colleagues, your one track mind set on finding your boy.

When you knocked on the door, nobody answered.

When you knocked again, you still received no answer.

It wasn’t until you spoke that Daniel finally opened the door.

“Danny? Baby, it’s me. Open up.”

The door flew open in less than thirty seconds, already shut and locked behind you before you even realised that he had dragged you into the room.

It took one look at your boy before you wrapped your arms around him, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck and his arms wound around your middle to hold you close.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel sobbed, his words slightly muffled but it didn’t stop them from making your chest tighten. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Danny,” you whispered softly, pulling back enough to cup his face in your hands. “Sorry for what? What did you do?”

Daniel let out a shaky breath. “The last few races—” He choked out but he was unable to finish.

But you knew. You always knew when it came to him.

“Don’t,” you muttered, shaking your head as your thumbs wiped away the stray tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t apologise. Baby, listen to me. The last few races have been hard, but they are not your fault.”

He opened his mouth but you quickly interrupted.

“They’re not,” you stated. “And they don’t define you or your career. You’re a good driver, Danny. The grid knows it. The world knows it. I know it. And I’m not just giving you a pass because you’re sexy and my boyfriend.”

He let out a small laugh.

“You have no reason to apologise,” you said in a softer voice. “You hear me?”

“I just…ever since everything with McLaren, I feel like I need to prove myself,” he whispered, his words heavy and his eyes dark. “I need to prove I deserve my seat, that I deserve to be racing with the top teams—”

“You do. And the people who matter know that,” you told him, your fingers tracing soothing circles on his skin.

He nodded, his eyes falling shut as he leaned into your touch.

“And you don’t have to hide how you feel either,” you added after a few moments of silence. “Especially not with me.”

Daniel gulped, opening his eyes to find yours. His eyes were still a bit wet and glossy, but he seemed lighter than he did moments ago when he opened the door.

“I know,” he rasped. “And I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner.”

“We’re a team, remember? You suffer, I suffer,” you murmured.

Daniel laughed. “I’d rather neither of us suffer, Sunshine.”

“We take what life gives us,” you shrugged, something easing inside you when your boy smiled. “How about we chill in here for a bit before they drag you away to media?”

“Breaking the rules now? Who are you and what did you do to my Sunshine?” Daniel gasped, laughing when you jokingly slapped his chest. But he just pulled you closer, nuzzling himself against you once again. “Let’s stay in here forever, yeah?”

“It’s a little cramped but yeah, forever sounds good.”

.

[wave2tyun]

rain and vanilla lattes | ☆

pairing: classpresident!taehyun x fem!reader

genre: highschool!au, mutual pining?? kinda??, fluff, a bit of angst, a bit suggestive (? making out)

summary: kang taehyun, smart, attractive, sweet, class president. the kind of boy that anyone would fall for. he never thought that love could tug at his heartstrings so intensely, until his eyes landed on you

warnings: none!

word count: 4.5k

a/n: because of uni i sadly have not been able to write anything new for tyun's bday, i apologise😖 however!!! i really wanted to repost "rain and vanilla lattes". this was my first ever fic so please don't judge it too harshly asdbdjdsh i personally shudder when i try to reread it but i am very emotionally attached to it + i know that it used to be a big favorite!!! :0 enjoy!!! :D<33 (also i REALLY hope those were the pics i used for it before asdbbhsd)

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

the loud sound of the school bell was more than enough to wake you up from your deep slumber. you only had to push through for one more hour and survive literature class, before you could finally head back home and rest. it’s not that you didn’t like the class, in fact, mr. kim was a lovely teacher, he knew how to explain concepts well and never overwhelmed you with work, it’s just that expressing yourself wasn’t really your forté. mr kim knew that, yet still picked you regularly to answer regardless, not sparing you the embarrassment. this time you really weren’t in the mood for his schemes, so you could only pray that he would leave you alone, just this once. he was punctual, as always, and as soon as he sat down on his chair he made an announcement:

“class, i know you’re not gonna be happy about this, but it’s not long before the end of the semester and i need you all to get started on a project for your final grade.”

groans and complaints erupted throughout the class. nobody was happy about having to start a project so early, and his next statement just made the situation even worse.

“this time, however, you’ll work in pairs. and no, you will not be able to choose your partner. i’ve already prepared the list myself.”

even more complaints could be heard. certain students tried to negociate with the teacher in an attempt to change his mind, but he wouldn’t budge.

“i’ve already made up my mind. you’re not the ones making the rules, i am.”

you let out a sigh and tapped your pencil on your leg nervously as the teacher revealed the project partners. this could either take a turn for the better, or the worse.

“y/n! your partner will be taehyun.”

‘shit-’ you thought, almost dropping your pencil. you glanced over at taehyun, who flashed you a small smile. flustered, you quickly turned your head the other way. shit. you were screwed. you could feel the glares from the other girls in your class, almost drilling holes in your head, but your mind was busy overthinking about the millions of ways that you could possibly embarrass yourself in front of taehyun. after all, kang taehyun wasn’t your ordinary high school boy. he was class president, top of his school, hot, the kind of guy that everyone was head over heels for. love didn’t seem to be a priority to taehyun. girls used all kinds of excuses to talk to him or hang out. however, he would never show any interest back, only letting these interactions happen to a certain extent. you couldn’t deny that he wasn’t attractive, but you knew that he was way out of your league, which is why you never tried to approach him. you were so lost in thought that you didn’t even notice him walking towards your desk.

“y/n, would it be okay for you as well to meet up tomorrow? i think it’s best if we get started early.”

“y-yeah, i think so too. does 2 pm at the library sound good?”

“it’s perfect. see you then y/n!”

you didn’t even realise how fast your heart was beating during your short conversation. why did you even stutter...? you genuinely wanted to slap yourself in the face. you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down. 2 pm at the library tomorrow, just you and taehyun, surely you can handle that, right?

───⋆☆─────────────

the next day came by so much faster than you were expecting. it was a saturday, and yet you woke up at 7 am, unable to fall back asleep. giving up, you brushed your teeth and had breakfast...then what? there was still so much time left until your meeting with taehyun. you found yourself pacing back and forth in your room for hours on end. your room became a mess as you kept on trying outfits, struggling to find something that was casual, but not too casual, something that made you look like you’ve put in effort, but not too much effort. there were clothes piled up on the floor and on your chair and your coffee mug was still sitting on your desk. you didn’t want to be late so you couldn’t bring yourself to clean up the terrible mess you’ve made. with that fear in your mind, you decided to leave your house early. you didn’t want to make the boy wait, that wouldn’t leave such a good impression.

you pushed the heavy library door, stepping foot into the quiet room. 1:50 pm. good. looking around for a place to sit until those last 10 minutes passed, you were surprised to see taehyun at a table with a book in his hand, and another stack right in front of him. he was wearing a white button-up shirt, specs on his tall nose and brown eyes shining from the ray of sunshine peeking through the blinds. you couldn’t help but fidget your hands as you were making your way towards him. there was something about his appearance alone that just made you feel nervous.

“y/n, hi! please take a sit” he said once he saw you.

“hii, i’m sorry if you’ve been waiting for long.”

“ah, you’re actually right on time, so no need to worry. i just got here earlier to gather some research material beforehand. here, have a look through this.”

he handed you an exact copy of the book in his hand. a midsummer night’s dream. right...you could vaguely remember mr. kim explaining the project to you. you were supposed to write an essay based on a classic shakespeare play. you completely forgot about it. at the time, you were too busy stressing over your chosen project partner to pay attention to the teacher’s words.

“a midsummer night’s dream has a pretty complex plot...i thought it would be a good pick. i didn’t know how familiar you were with the play, so i brought the copies for us to read.” 

you nodded in agreement. you weren’t very familiar with shakespeare, but you trusted that whatever choice taehyun made was a great one. 

you both started reading in silence. taehyun seemed to be completely immersed in the story, meanwhile you were thirty pages in and felt like you didn’t absorb one single word. taehyun was already far ahead from you, he was reading with such ease that you were embarrassed by how little you could understand from the play. you were peeking at him over your book. you wanted to say something, yet you couldn’t muster up the courage to form any words. taehyun must have sensed your constant glances over his figure, he cleared his throat and broke the silence:

“is there anything i could help you with?” his tone wasn’t irritated though, but rather calm and sincere. he leaned over the table to get a look at your book and you could suddenly sense the sweet scent of his cologne, making your heartbeat raise its pace.

“i’m having trouble understanding, i guess the writing style is much more difficult than i had anticipated” you couldn’t look him in the eyes as you admitted that.

he hummed in agreement and furrowed his brows “you’re right…shakespeare isn’t an easy read, especially if it’s your first time” “say, would you prefer if we go somewhere else where we can talk more freely? i can explain it to you right here as well, but i wouldn’t want to disturb the other students”

you were taken aback by his proposal. you were expecting him to burst out laughing or make a snarky remark, even though you knew taehyun wasn’t the type of person to do that. you just weren’t used to people treating you this nicely in such situations.

“sounds good” you responded with a smile.

───⋆☆─────────────

taehyun led you to a small coffee shop near the library. the place was covered in plants from top to bottom, it had vinyl records hanging on the walls and faint jazz music playing in the background. it was the perfect place for you to continue your work. however, the wide variety of options displayed on the menu made you feel slightly overwhelmed.

“what are you having?” you asked taehyun.

“the vanilla latte here is really good, so i’m going with that.”

“i see…then i’ll have one too”

taehyun was quick to order both drinks and pay for them as well. “here. don’t worry, it’s on me.” your fingers brushed lightly as he handed you the warm drink and you tried to act non-chalantly about it, but your stutter gave away the fact that his actions did have an impact on you “t-thank you.”

settling for a table near the window, you took a few sips from the beverage. the coffee wasn’t too strong, and the vanilla syrup left a pleasant taste on your tongue. taehyun had excellent tastes indeed. he brought out a small black notebook from his backpack, which seemed to have older notes and analysis from the play. he took his time to explain the plot to you, the usage of the words and their modern equivalents. it would be a lie to say that you didn’t get distracted every once in a while, especially when his sharp jawline was revealed whenever he took sips from his own coffee. he only continued his explanations after making sure you truly understood what he was saying, and by the time he finished, you had a much clearer image of the play in your mind.

time passed without either of you realising. just as you were about to leave, you could see a few raindrops starting to fall down from the sky through the window. you hurriedly gathered your things to leave. nonetheless, once you opened the door to step outside the coffee shop, the rain was already heavily pouring.

“what do we do…the bus station isn’t that close to here” you muttered.

“we’ll have to make a run for it”

taehyun grabbed you by the shoulder and placed his jackets on top of your heads to protect you from the rain. you both arrived at the bus station out of breath and giggling.

“i would have stretched a bit if i knew we were gonna run this much” taehyun’s smile revealed his cat-like fangs, which you’ve never noticed before. ‘so cute’ you thought. “are you okay? i hope i at least managed to protect you well.”

“nothing i can’t handle” you replied, but in reality, your lungs felt like they were on fire “thank you, i really appreciate it. i just wish the bus won’t have a delay like it usually does.”

“i wouldn’t mind that actually, that would just mean that i get to spend more time with you.” he responded playfully, flashing you another one of his charming smiles, making you blush for probably the 10th time that day. “do you live far away from here?”

“hmm kinda. i don’t usually take this route but i believe it’s gonna take at least 40 minutes to get back. not that i would mind though, i enjoy longer rides.” you wrapped your arms around your body in an attempt to get a bit warmer. you spent so much time at home overthinking about what you were gonna say and do that you didn’t even bother to look at the weather. taehyun seemed to notice how much you were trembling though, so he put his jacket over your shoulders again. 

“here, this should keep you warm.”

“but then you’re gonna be the one who feels cold…” you argued, almost taking the jacket off completely. taehyun put it back on you in an instant.

“no, please take it. i’ll be fine, that run got me warm enough. i’m the one who suggested coming here, so i wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of you catching a cold because of me.”

the bus arrived right as you were about to open your mouth, not giving you the chance to fight back. you hopped on, taehyun following after you. 

the ride was mostly quiet. it wasn’t an awkward kind of silence though. during this time you were finally taking in everything that happened today. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this good with someone. sometimes not even your friends could make you feel so at ease.

“i wish we could do this more often” you muttered.

“do what more often?” taehyun asked. you froze. you didn’t mean to say that out loud. you weren’t the type to act this bold and straight-forward.

“ah, well- i mean this, you know. us meeting together to study and stuff” you blurted out and looked down. you were trying to prepare youself for the rejection. what if he’s gonna think you’re weird? he probably prefers to meet up with someone who matches his own level of intelligence. what if- “i agree, i really enjoyed our time together today.” you looked at him with wide eyes, taken by surprise. “then…are you free tomorrow as well? same hour? for the project of course.” you rambled again. “sounds great.” he responded tenderly.

you looked out the window and notice that the area was starting to become familiar, meaning that you had to get off soon. but oh my, you just wanted to stay there and keep on talking to the gorgeous boy. he was kind enough to wait until the bus stopped at your location, before finally going back to his own house. and once you did get off, you could see him waving at you from his seat. exhausted, you collapsed on your bed, heart still fluttering at his sweet gestures.

───⋆☆─────────────

your regular meetups were something that you were looking forward to. they didn’t stop even after your project was done, instead they became your own litte thing, a safe space. taehyun would always wait for you at the exact same table with a set of books and two vanilla lattes from that same coffee shop that you’ve visited on your first meeting. you adored being around him, it didn’t even feel like you were going for school work anymore. you loved how comfortable he made you feel and how caring he was, how he never looked down on you and how his eyes gleamed whenever you told him you understood his explanations. he always looked forward to the silly doodles you would leave on his notebooks whenever he lent you one. he also loved how you were shorter than him, teasing you whenever you were unable to reach a book. you pretend to be mad at him when he makes jokes about it. in reality, you found it endearing simply because it was him doing it. shit. you were head over heels for kang taehyun, there was no point denying it anymore. the realisation hit you like a truck and you were suddenly nervous to see him today at the library again, even though you’ve been doing that for months now.

taehyun didn’t show up for the first class that day though. it was weird, especially since he’s class president. his attendance is supposed to be mostly perfect. at first, you tried to brush it off, thinking that he might have just overslept. your suspicion was proven wrong, as he didn’t show up for the rest of the day either. after pretty much dragging your feet along the hall, you anxiously opened the library door. however, taehyun wasn’t there either. ‘strange…’ you thought. it was already past 2 pm. your table was completely empty. there was no sign of the boy, nor could you see his notebooks or any vanilla lattes anywhere else. maybe he was somewhere hidden among the shelves? you frantically looked for him, yet you couldn’t see him anywhere in the library. you sat on a chair and tried to calm yourself down. maybe he was just late, after all he’s human too. you sent a message to check:

( tyun :p )

[y/n, 14:24]: hey, i’m at the library :)

[y/n, 14:36]: is everything okay? you didn’t come to classes today either :(

[y/n, 15:05]: tyun...?

you closed your phone with a sigh, nervously playing with your rings. now you were really starting to panic. what if he picked up on your feelings before you even did? have you been so oblivious towards your own actions? you wanted to cry at the thought of accidentally making him feel uncomfortable. god you were so stupid. he had all those other girls in your class chasing after him, prettier, smarter and richer than you. you couldn’t help but compare yourself to them. why would kang taehyun choose you out of everyone who had shown interest in him? he was clearly way out of your league. you hated your heart for even letting you catch feelings for the boy. you left the library with a heavy heart. your mind was overwhelmed by your own thoughts and you didn’t want anyone there to witness your mental breakdown.

───⋆☆─────────────

it was ridiculous how much the situation affected you. you contemplated staying at home the next day, after just barely getting a wink of sleep. in the end, you forced yourself to get out of bed, you already had enough absences for the semester and didn’t want to get more.

you weren’t in the mood for mr. kim’s class either, so you put your head down on your desk ready to doze off for an hour. a familiar voice snapped you out of your daze:

“sorry for being late mr kim.”

you glanced at the door and right there stood taehyun, out of breath and with messy hair. he looked just as tired as you were. you quickly looked away though, not wanting to have eye contact with him. even today your messages were still left on ‘delivered’. you could feel his gaze on you during the entire class, but you chose to ignore it. 

you cursed mr. kim in your mind for making you and taehyun permanent project partners. you still had one more project left for literature class which you and taehyun already started 2 weeks ago. you didn’t want to see taehyun nor did you want to be the one to let down the project and ruin his grade. you somehow managed to successfully avoid him for the rest of the day, sometimes skipping a few classes. you didn’t go to the library like you were supposed to either. 

it hurt, but your brain told you that the only way to escape your feelings was to distance yourself from the boy. all the project work would go down the drain if you didn’t finish it, therefore you chose to go to the library at night one last time, hoping that he wouldn’t be there at such an ungodly hour. the place was quiet and deserted, with only a few people seemingly stressed out being scattered around the tables. you were a bit unsure what you were supposed to be looking for, since you didn’t have taehyun around to guide you anymore. you headed towards a familiar section and scanned the shelves for something that could help you conclude your essay. but while you were busy searching, you didn’t notice that one particular boy you were avoiding searching for you. you were startled when two hands suddenly entered your vision, hanging on to the shelf right above your head, trapping you.

“there you are” he breathed out.

you turned around with wide eyes, looking like a deer caught in headlights. taehyun was right in front of you, looking at you with narrow eyes and a slight frown on his face.

“i was worried sick, i’ve been looking for you everywhere” he whispered

“i could say the same thing about yesterday” you replied trying to act coldly. your heart felt warm at the thought of him looking for you.

“yesterday….?”

“you ghosted me yesterday, you didn’t come to meet me nor did you bother to answer any of my messages.” you answered, blinking back your tears.

“i wanted to talk to you all day, but you didn’t even give me a chance to explain-” he furrowed his brows “i had an urgent meeting with the student council yesterday. mr. kim then asked me to retrieve a parcel for him and i left without realising that my phone was still in the meeting room. he took it for me and only returned it to me today after class. i wasn’t ignoring you on purpose. i know it seemed that way and i apologise. i would never do that, especially to you y/n.” he explained. you could tell that he was being sincere and you felt so bad for acting the way you did. why did you let those stupid thoughts push him away? you covered your face with your hands, you wanted to die of embarrassment. “i am so dumb tyun, i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t have acted like that, i shouldn’t have been avoiding you i should have talked to you about it then-”

“hey, you’re not dumb.” he interrupted your stammer. he took your hands in his and kissed the inside of your wrist. then, he gently cupped your cheeks, his gaze softening when he noticed that you were holding back tears. “please, just don’t run away from me again.” he enveloped you in his warm embrace, and you accepted it, slowly wrapping your hands against his waist. this time, you were not going to run away.

“come on, let me help you finish this.” but just after he said that, the lights went out, covering you in complete pitch black darkness. you checked your phone. it was almost 1 am, way past the library’s closing time. you didn’t want to know what would happen if somebody were to find you there, so you both sneaked towards the exit. everything seemed to go too well. as you were passing through the hall, you could hear footsteps going down the staircase. without much thinking, taehyun quickly grabbed your hand and sprinted towards the janitor’s closet, shoving you in before the security guard could see you.

“i’m sorry, i couldn’t risk him seeing us.” he whispered

once again, there was almost nothing but darkness surrounding you. you could barely make out taehyun’s face in the dim light of the closet, so close next to yours. you ended up in a similar position as earlier, taehyun trapping you between himself and the door, with his arms on each side of your head.

“we should probably stay in here for a bit more until it’s safe to go out. are you okay? you didn’t get hurt or anything, right?” you could hear the genuine concern in his voice.

“i’m good, don’t worry, but…tyun, can i ask you something?” he nodded in response “why did you decide to come looking for me so late?“

“why? why do think i didn’t just go on and act like nothing happened?” you looked down and gulped, unable to answer him. he gently lifted your chin up with his hand.

“do you think i like you?” he said trying to gaze into your eyes, looking for an answer. “that’s right…”, but there was a shift in his demeanour. his usual confident façade crumbled, he chuckled weakly and left his eyes on the ground, shoulders going down. “in fact, i like you so much that i can’t even stand the thought of being away from you. during this time where i haven’t been seeing you, i felt like i was going crazy.” you blushed at the boy’s confession. “oh, well then…that means that we both feel the same way” you whispered. you almost wanted to pinch yourself to see if this wasn’t a dream. kang taehyun, the boy who managed to steal your heart so easily, did actually like you back.

“i’m really glad to hear that” taehyun chuckled lowly. the cramped space didn’t allow for much distance between the two of you. you could feel his hot breath on your neck and the familiar scent of his cologne, warm chest on top of yours making you feel dizzy. without realising it, you were holding your breath. you prayed that he couldn’t hear the loud sound of your rapidly beating heart.

“do i make you nervous?”

you couldn’t see him clearly, but you knew that there was a smirk sneaking its way onto his face as he said that.

you didn’t reply this time. you could barely even handle his intense gaze on you, yet alone talk. he somehow got even closer, his lips sitting just a few centimeters apart from yours.

“can i kiss you...?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, unable to utter a single word. his hand cupped your face, thumb lightly brushing over your cheekbone. he waited for a short moment, as if to reconfirm your permission, then he finally closed the gap between your lips. his kiss was soft, yearning…his other hand grabbed your waist and you moved your hand to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. you found your fingers tangled in the soft strands of his hair as he kissed you passionately, biting your lip. you pulled away for a second to catch your breath, cheeks burning like they were on fire. taehyun took his glasses off with a swift movement and placed them in his chest pocket before going back to your lips, kissing you more. “we shouldn’t be doing this…” you managed to whisper between the kisses. he rested his forehead on top of yours. “unless we get caught, we’re not breaking any rules”. he started to trail down kisses on your neck, all the way down to your collarbone, not daring to go further and cross any barrier that would make you even in the slightest bit uncomfortable. “but what if we do…you’re class president and i don’t want to get you in trouble-” he pressed his lips against yours in an attempt to stop your ramble. “darling, if you continue talking, then we might actually risk getting caught.” your body was melting against his touch. you were so glad he was holding you because you were afraid your legs might actually give out from the intensity of the situation. he left a few more kisses on your swollen lips.

“as much as i’m enjoying this, we should probably make our move now. come on, let’s get out of here.” taehyun said quietly.

“only if you buy me a vanilla latte.” you replied. taehyun placed a sweet kiss on your forehead and grabbed your hand before making a run towards the exit.

“anything for you, darling.”

taglist: @huekalover3000

[starlightshadowsworld]

Heroes of Olympus but when Jason returns to Camp Jupiter, he's pissed.

He doesn't cower at the sight of his camp but stands taller. A steelness in his eyes no one at Camp Half Blood has ever seen before.

But one those in Camp Jupiter know all to well.

"Twelth Leigion Fulminata, stand at attention."

He doesn't even need to raise his voice as every single Roman demigod stops what their doing to look at him.

The only thing on their faces is fear.

"Oh would you look at that, you do know how to follow orders." Says Jason, strolling forward and.

Two centurions scramble to get a seat for him, Jason sits down nodding in thanks and dismissing them.

"Does anyone care to explain, just what the fuck has been going on here in my absence?"

Octavian raises a hand and Jason snorts.

"Augur, why am I not suprised? The floor is yours."

Octavian nods, a grin on his face and began to explain what had occurred.

All the while Jason listens, his expression giving nothing away. When Octavian finished, Jason sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair.

"If there's one thing I can't tell you idiots off its for making my life boring. Your dismissed...actually one last thing Augur?"

Octavian paused, turning back around to face Jason. "Yes, sir?" Jason frowned "wipe that smug look off your face before I do it for you."

Octavian went pale, all traces off amusement gone from his face.

"Thank you. Your dismissed, get out of my sight." Octavian left without a second word.

"Jason"

"Praetor Ramirez-Arellano"

Reyna winced, and she wasn't the only one. Jason never called her by her title unless they were in the Senate.

He was hurt.

"Do tell me, has Augur Octavian missed anything in his explanation?" Reyna shook her head, for as pretentious as he was Octavian had spoken the truth.

Jason rose to his feet.

"Oh but he did, he neglected to mention that there were 3 Praetors standing before us. Now, unless the rules have changed their are only supposed to be 2."

Jason looked past Reyna, his gaze resting on Percy who waved awkwardly. "State your name."

Percy, feeling very much like he was intruding in on something answered him. "Percy Jackson."

Recognition flashed in Jason's gaze, and he softened momentarily. "Percy Jackson, son of Posideon? Formerly apart of this Camp?" He asked, gesturing to his orange Camp Half Blood top.

"Yup."

Jason nodded "apologises, Jackson. Your friends and I traveled here, you may wait in the Senate. I will release them to you momentarily." Percy grinned "thanks, erm... Sorry about all of this I really didn't know."

Jason held up a hand "that's quite alright, you are not at fault for this." Percy left and Jason's smile vanished.

"Tell me, when did the Senate allow for a new Praetor to be reinstated? And why someone so new? I'd get if it was due to an it emergency field promotion, but that wasn't the case."

He couldn't even look at her and it hurt.

"I thought you were dead, Jason.

Jason laughed, but there was no humour in it. It sent chills down everyone's spines.

"Really? Than please, show me the search parties, point me to the evidence you collected that bought you too such a conclusion. For that matter, where's my funeral pyre?"

Jason shook his head, anger and sadness in his eyes. "Don't bullshit me. You didn't think I was dead, you didn't even look. And frankly I don't think you cared too."

He looked Reyna in the eye. "You replaced me, with a Greek. I get shit for being named after a Greek hero, but none of you had a problem with this. You wanted to replace me, Reyna. I'm sorry it didn't work out for you."

He shook his head, turning his back on her.

"Jason, wait I-"

"We have several guests at our gate that we need to welcome. I've already had their weapons checked but you've proven how little you trust my authority so you might want to hurry up on that."

And with that he left to the Senate.

Jason swapped his outfit with Percy who apologised once again.

"Really man, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. My Leigion had been trying to get rid of me since the day I showed up. Unfortunately for them, I'm more valuable alive than dead." Explains Jason, Percy frowned.

"Well, fuck em." He grinned when Jason laughed in suprise. "You are definitely something else, Jackson." Percy grinned wider "see you're learning fast. I think we'll be good friends you and I."

Jason raised an eyebrow "you sure? Most of my friends stab me in the back." Percy nodded, a sincerity in his eyes that made Jason almost believe he wouldn't.

It felt too good to be true.

"Well, I'll just have to prove you wrong." Percy put a hand out "Percy Jackson, son of Posideon and former Praetor." Jason shook his hand. "Jason Grace, son of Jupiter and current Praetor."

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

[httpwintersoldier]

『 think I need someone older. || buggy x reader 』

pairing: buggy x f!reader words: there's many words in here alright! like, many summary: who would've thought that the best thing you'd get out of your relationship would be the guy after it. angst; smut; fluff. ᴄᴡ: ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ; ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ

"Come on, let's go!"

Buggy stared with an intense look, from the corner of the room, as this drunk looking guy grabbed your arm and dragged you across the bar.

"Stop! Let me go! I haven't finished my shift!"

The man's grip tightened on you and he pulled you close, your noses almost touching from the proximity.

"I told you I don't want you working! Much less in a fucking bar! What, you like all these men looking at you!?"

Your boyfriend spat those words at your through gritted teeth, and you swore his iris shrunk in size giving his eyes more space to express their hatred at disgust towards you.

"Not my circus, not my monkeys. Not my circus, not my monkeys. Not my circus..." Buggy repeated the quote in his head like a mantra as he sipped his beer, reminding himself that the extraneous relationship was none of his business.

And usually he would not mind, other people's predicaments were none of his concern and he didn't care to make them his concern, but you were different.

The Captain had only seen you working at the bar a couple of times and he had found you... pathetic. Smiling at the customers, apologising, actually doing your best and being polite. That showed weakness. You were weak. Weak, and innocent, and pathetic, and someone who would never survive in this world. And for that he wanted you.

Buggy refused to put two and two together, he refused to accept that for once there was someone he wanted to protect instead of hurt - because that would mean that he would have a weakness: you.

It was only when you showed him kindness and respect instead of fear and disgust that the Captain began somewhat welcoming the idea of you.

It had been a terrible day - the crew was hungover and some punks took the chance to ransack the ship - and Buggy just needed a drink. He sat alone on the corner and some pesky, useless waitress set the wrong drink in front of him.

"I should have you killed for your incompetence!" He had dramatically yelled at you.

Instead of pleas or more yelling, his threat was met with a question.

"Why?"

It instantly calmed him down, he had never been questioned on his threats... Sure they had been laughed at, they had been feared... But never questioned.

"Does this look like my order!?" Buggy said, a lot calmer but still showing annoyance as he didn't want you to think you somehow had the power to take away his rage.

"Can't I just replace it, Sir? I can make it on the house if you'd like!"

Buggy left after that, without another word. It effectively made you think that he now hated you and your service, but the fact was his heart beat faster. His heart beat in a way that had only beat before when he was fighting or torturing someone, and the Captain had to sit alone and wonder what it meant - and how he could shoo it away. No one had ever been able to calm him down, let alone make him feel bad for the tone he had used - until you waltzed in the Captains' life with your pretty smile and tight fabrics.

He sat on that same corner that day watching that man mistreat you in front of everyone. The look on your face was one Buggy did not recognize - he was half certain you were incapable of portraying negative emotions, but now it seemed like all of them were flowing through you.

"I-I wanted to get money t-to help you buy that ship you wanted! For your birthday, baby!" You lied, trying to stop your body from shaking.

You wanted some financial independence from that man, you wanted to be able to buy stuff for yourself without having to go by your partner first, or without having to get his approval because "it was his money after all", but you figured a lie would be best.

After that, the man roughly let go of your arm, but your faces remained at the same distance.

"We will discuss your schedules at home." He said in a threatening, low tone and promptly left the bar.

You looked around - the place was never calm, except when there was gossip and drama to pay attention to. Your eyes scanned the room and you laughed nervously.

"It's alright fellas! Apologies for disturbing your night I will get you all a round on the house!"

Cheers echoed the room and it went back to the rowdy environment you knew as you tried your best to excuse yourself to the back where you could breathe.

You left through the door and slid down the brick wall of the alleyway where the staff took their smoke breaks, thanking the gods that it was vacant. Your thighs hit the cold stone floor but you didn't care - at least you could breathe. It felt like there was a boulder on your chest that prevented you the air to leave your lungs and chemicals in your eyes that prevented you from crying up until that point.

The sound heavy boots smacking against the stone echoed in the air, getting closer and closer to you. You assumed it was your manager, and you didn't want to get fired but you couldn't get back inside just yet.

"Sorry, Sir... I will go back in in just a minute." You said, voice muffled from your head being buried in your arms.

Buggy wasn't sure what to say, - he wasn't good at comforting people, not at all - so he just stood there, looking down at you, as if the space around him would freeze to give him enough time to think of the appropriate reply.

When you obtained no reply, you got worried - was you boss that mad that he wouldn't even dignify you with a response?...

You slowly peeled your head from your arms and looked up at the person in front of you, to find the somber clown that sat on the corner of the bar every other day. You immediately stood up and violently wiped the tears from your cheeks and the dirt from your skirt as you tried your best to look presentable.

Buggy's looks towards you were always a mix of very intense emotions that you couldn't decipher, but now they were a lot softer, almost as if he felt sad for you - and honestly you much preferred angst to pity.

The Captain softly grabbed your arm, stopping it from rubbing your skin so violently and potentially damaging something so beautiful.

"I-I'm sorry I will go back in now I didn't mean to disturb the service please let me offer you-"

Your frantic, apologetic rant was cut short by Buggy's voice.

"Why are you with him?"

Your eyes, that previously wandered everywhere but his face, found his gaze.

"Him? Him who? My... boyfriend?"

Buggy just nodded, searching your face for all of the emotions he could gather - they were all negative, and those he was good at.

"I love him." You said dryly, not one ounce of emotion laced in your words.

"You don't. You fear him. People who are feared are not loved, I should know..." The Captain said the last part under a deep inhale.

You were left silent. You were angry and in disbelief that this man that didn't even know you had the gall to make such serious accusations about you and your relationship.

But he was right. And now you knew how painfully obvious it was.

At some point you did love him - your boyfriend would bring you flowers every other week, he would write often, expressing his love, when he needed to sail for work, he would cook intricate dinners and fill the bedroom with roses and gifts in every special date you shared... But once he knew he had you, the man changed completely - a tale as old as time. And your boyfriend knew you held onto the hopes and memories of the past and used it against you, pretending to be the caring man he once was from time to time to keep you around.

"So? Why are you with him?" The Captain asked once more upon being faced with your silence, slowly stepping closer.

You opened your mouth to say something, hoping your brain could scramble together an excuse for being with that man that didn't sound as pathetic as just "nostalgia".

Before you could speak, Buggy placed his index finger on your chin and tilted your head up so you could look into his beautiful, big green eyes. They were hypnotizing, really.

"Exactly." He whispered "There is no reason. So let me take you away."

You widened your eyes.

"Take me away!? Where would you even take me?..."

Buggy chuckled, approaching his face to yours.

"Anywhere, everywhere..." He whispered.

Your face grew hot and the atmosphere around you became tense, this time a completely different feeling filling the air.

"But... why? I thought you disliked me. You know, because of that day... I feel like you've been giving me the stink eye from that corner you sit on ever since."

Buggy let out a short laugh as he took his time to examine every pretty little detail of your face up close.

"Dislike you? I'm crazy about you. The way your fetching eyes twinkle when you smile, the way you sing when you wipe down the bar, the way your dresses fit you..."

Buggy allowed the hand that wasn't on your chin to trail up your body, still remaining far from any places he shouldn't (but wanted to) touch, as his eyes stole a look at your slightly exposed chest.

You were speechless. You hadn't heard someone talk about you with such admiration and love in a long time, but alas, the last time you believed it it lead you to the nightmare you lived in currently.

As you were reminded of such a fact, your eyes filled with tears once more and you stepped back, away from his touch.

"He used to tell me those things too... I've heard all of it. I'm sorry I-I can't trust this act a-and I need to go back to work."

Buggy stayed in his place, not wanting to scare you more than you already were or ruin any potential chance he might've had by being too insistant. In a last effort, he called your name, just as your hand met the cold metal of the door's handle, and you stopped.

"Y/N. You're dating a manchild, he doesn't know what to do with a good woman like you because he's a boy." Upon seeing he had piqued your interest, the Captain stepped closer and leaned to whisper in your ear from behind "Let me show you how a man is supposed to treat a woman such as yourself."

Your heart was thumping in a way you had never felt before, and althought you opened the door and ran inside to stop Buggy from seeing your blush, he knew.

He chuckled, left the alleyway and walked to his ship, letting the proposal sit on your mind.

Unbeknownst to your boyfriend (and to you), that night was crucial. The events of that night would heavily determine if you'd take the Captain up on his offer or not, even if you didn't know it at the time.

Once your shift ended you bid goodbye to the old man that owned the bar and made your way home, hands in the pockets of your heavy coat and smoke coming out of your mouth with every breath from the cold night air.

"Hey!" You greeted once you closed the door of your home.

You removed your coat and put on the best fake smile you could muster as you ealked over to your boyfriend whom sat on the dinner table drinking some sort of ale that he had brought from work.

"Good news honey!" The man said, standing up and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"What is it?" You asked with hope in your voice that, for once, the good news would benefit you as well.

"The man who handles the money down at the bar you work for is an old pal of mine, I talked to him and he can send the money directly to our house so I can keep it safe! So no need to wait for it on pay day anymore, I can just put it directly towards my ship like we wanted!"

Your boyfriend kept talking, but you had stopped listening halfway through. Your heart was beating way too fast for you to focus, and the ringing in your ears became too loud for you to hear.

He decided what you did, what you bought, what you wore, where you went... The smallest, tiniest bit of freedom you had was taken away. Everything was taken away.

There was no escape. Anywhere you went, anything you did... no escape.

Except... the Captain. He had offered you an escape. The clown had practically opened the door to freedom for you.

Or maybe not, maybe you'd just be walking into a different type of captivity, but something in your head and in your heart told you Captain Buggy was different. Maybe it was the sweet words or the twinkle in his eyes that were shining with something other than the possessiveness you had always been used to, something like care, or admiration even.

You placed your hands in your boyfriend's chest, slowly peeling yourself away from the hold he had on you as the fake smile faded into visible panic and anxiety. You had to make a decision, and you had to make it fast.

Before your head could process anything and before your mouth could protest his decision, your body turned to the door and your legs started running.

You didn't even know what Captain Buggy's ship looked like, you just ran to the docks in hopes that it would somehow work out for you.

As expected, the man you once loved ran after you, screaming, cursing and threatening all the way to the docks.

You had a considerable distance from him, and, thankfully, Buggy's flags with red-nosed skull made it easy for you to find the ship - although it wasn't needed.

When you looked behind you to make sure you kept said distance from your (ex-)boyfriend, you bumped into someone. The person didn't let you fall, however - he wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you as steady as possible.

"Get your fucking hands off her, clown!" Your boyfriend said in a tone that made it seem like he was frothing at the mouth - he might as well have been.

When you looked up to identify your saviour, you smiled in relief to find Buggy, tears welling in your eyes from the previous anxiety and panic that finally dawned on you. His piercing green eyes stared at your boyfriend menacingly, and had you not known how much the man wanted you, you too would have been scared of the expression painted on his face.

"Watch your tone, boy, and then leave." The Captain warned.

"I won't watch-"

Buggy didn't allow your partner to finish the sentence, he detached the hand that didn't hold onto you and wrapped it around the other man's neck, throwing him against a wall with enough strenght to knock him out.

As the hand came back to its place, Buggy looked down at you adoringly.

"I take it you accept my proposal, princess?"

You tried to bite back the smile, but to no avail.

"I do accept it. But!" Buggy leaned down ever so slightly, showing the most interest in whatever condition you had decided to set "If you ever scream at me I will leave you."

Buggy's smile stretched wide, and he pressed kisses all over your face.

"Oh my dear princess, my beautiful, beautiful treasure... If I ever so much as annoy you feel free to shoot me dead."

You grinned and slapped his chest.

"Don't be dramatic!" You said and giggled, unable to contain how giddy he made you, how he made you feel a way you hadn't ever felt, not even at the peak of your ex-boyfriend's supposed love.

You yelped and wrapped your arms around Buggy's neck as he picked you up bridal style to take you to his ship.

Some wolf whistles were heard as he walked through the ship carrying you, forcing you to hide your face in the crook of his neck out of embarrassment, but they were quickly shut up by the stern, disapproving look on the Captain's face.

You lifted your head and opened your eyes when he placed you down on the creaky wooden floor. You looked around to find a somewhat messy and dark room. There was a single, not-so-spacious bed that was unmade against the wall in front of you and under the porthole of the room, an old, tall dresser and a big desk with papers (that you assumed were maps) and random jewelry scattered across it were to your left and to your right was an worn out couch with questionable stains. A pair of boots as well as various items of clothing were by the corner of the room.

Buggy hissed and placed his hands on his hips as he looked around the mess in his bedroom.

"Yeah... I didn't acutally expect any company..." The Captain said, obvious embarrassment in his voice.

You giggled and picked up some of the clothes forgotten in the corner of the room.

"That's okay, I'm a little messy sometimes!" You tried your best to make him feel more comfortable about the state of his room as you folded his clothes.

"No, no, no! What are you doing? Don't trouble yourself!" Buggy panicked, holding your hands to stop you from doing any housework.

"Just trying to help you out a little! You know, as a thank you..." Your voice got a little shaky as the memory of the wave of emotions that had overcome you just minutes ago hit once more.

"A thank you for what? My own crew gives me a harder time than that little... sample of a man. He's a weak man, it was no trouble." The Captain assured, basically pleading you to lay down and rest.

You couldn't help but smile, a victorious smile, more than anything. Your now ex-boyfriend was prideful in his strenght and (supposed) fighting skill, no one really fought him, and when they did he'd unfortunately come out on top most times, but to hear Buggy speak of him in such a way and describe him as if he were but an annoying fly waiting to be swatted... it felt like victory. Imagining him pathetically limping back home and wallowing in his own self pity was nothing short of a dream come true.

"A thank you for rescuing me, Captain."

Buggy thought he was feeling sick, from the way his heart beat and his face heat up. He couldn't speak or think straight, for a second he thought it was a stroke or something of the sort.

The man stood in the same place, watching you fold his clothes neatly and fluff the pillows of the couch before moving to (try to) help you. He did his best to organize all the maps in the desk as he pushed the jewelry into a drawer with a detached foot.

By the time he had properly rolled up the maps and put them in their proper place, you had already finished the remaining parts of the room.

"You did well! That looks good!" You said, walking up behind him.

Buggy felt a strange wave of pride hit him. Like no other accomplishment he had previously achieved mattered, because this was the only one the Captain had complimented you on. The man did his best to wipe the stupid smile off of his face but there was no hiding how obsessed he was with you and everything you did.

Your tired yawn snapped him out of his trance, and his big green eyes looked at you in worry.

"Are you tired? You must be tired... Just..." Buggy walked to over to the dresser and took a big, warm blanket from it, handing it to you "Take the bed, you should get some sleep."

You held the thick blanket in your arms as you saw the man try his best to fluff the pillows and make the bed comfortable for you. You didn't know how to react to this much care and attention, you felt undeserving of it.

"Y/N? Shit, are you okay? Did I go overboard? Did I do too much!?" You didn't realize how fast you were breathing until Buggy brought it to your attention, and before long there were two panicked people in the room not knowing what to do for two completely different reasons.

The clown had never liked someone as much as he liked you, and you had never had anyone like you as much as he did. It was comical, really, although at the time it didn't feel like it, it was just the purest image of two fools falling in love.

"I-I don't want you to be uncomfortable because of me, that is all- I can take the floor." You said, trying to stabilize your voice as much as possible.

"Oh princess, I've been thrown around by people my whole life, I've gotten pieces of me stuck in boxes and I've been used as a punching bag, sleeping in the couch instead of the bed is no trouble at all... I didn't bring you to my ship just to have you sleep on the floor, that is an absolute no." The Captain said with a small smile, carefully cupping your cheek.

He could tell from your face that you weren't satisfied with the solution, even if the man guaranteed you he'd be comfortable.

"What if... we share the bed? If you don't mind..." You suggested, unable to look him in the eye.

Buggy's body tensed and heat up at the thought of the both of you pressed up against each other in the small bed, and he tried his very best to not seem like a creepy pervert, but the thoughts in his head seemed to have other plans.

"Uh sure... Yeah, that works." He blurted out, like an awkward teenager trying to seem cool and uninterested after a long silence.

You loosened your corset and set it neatly next to your shoes, as you removed the hairband that tried its best to keep your hair in place during your shifts at the bar.

Buggy turned his back to you, feeling like he was somehow invading your privacy even though you hadn't asked him to look away.

The man removed his jacket, boots and belt as well, trying to get more comfortable. Usually both you and him would sleep in less clothing, but for the sake of decency and modesty (which Buggy had apparently adhered to exclusively for you) you decided against it.

When you turned around, Buggy was removing his bandana, and your eyes widened as his blue hair extended down to his lower back.

"Woah..."

Buggy turned around to face you, confused, as you softly grabbed a strand of his hair.

Once he saw your eyes shining as you looked at his long blue locks he smiled - a mix of confidence about his hair, and shyness about the way you looked at him.

"You like it? I kinda forget people don't really know how long my hair is."

"It's beautiful..." Your voice was soft as you ran your hand along his (surprisingly) soft and shiny hair, almost as if you were afraid to scare him away.

"Not nearly as beautiful as you. Not even close. Nothing has even been or will ever be as beautiful as you are." The words were caught in Buggy's throat, more than anything, he was afraid that his feelings and constant thoughts of your alluringness would scare your off, so those words were replaced by the suggestion of going to sleep.

Buggy let you lay first, closer to the wall so you wouldn't fall off the bed if you happened to move as you slept. The Captain then laid next to you, very happy about the lack of space the bed offered.

You both had to lay on your side, your back pressed against his chest. You'd be lying if you said you'd disliked the proximity - his body was warm and you felt protected as his toned chest heaved up and down against you and his muscly arm draped mindlessly over your waist.

You didn't want to move, but your leg became numb after some time. You shifted in your place slightly to make it more comfortable, only to feel a strong hand grip your hips in place almost instantly.

"Careful." Buggy's low and raspy voice whispered, almost as if warning you about some danger.

And there was a danger indeed. Having your body so close to his was torture enough, but if you so much as shifted in place you'd be rubbing yourself against him - and the clown wasn't sure how far this newfound restraint could go.

"Sorry..." You apologised, thinking your movements had woken him up.

"Don't be..." He mumbled and buried his face in the crook of your neck, taking in your perfume.

Weeks went by from that day, and the two of you got to know each other intimately, but Buggy was hard to read. There were times where it seemed you were the light of his day and the reason for him to breathe, but there were others where your image seemed to be the Captain's worst nightmare.

It all came to a climax on a day where Buggy was having a particular hard time coming face to face with his feelings.

"Buggy!? What is wrong with you!?"

"Stop fucking following me around!"

You didn't understand the sudden shift in behaviour, but quite honestly neither did he.

The Captain was obviously not used to having feelings, nevermind dealing with them. He didn't know what to do or how to behave, all he knew was that he wanted you in an obsessive, animalistic way. Everything Buggy did, every step he took... You were on his mind. You were a constant. He couldn't stop thinking of your smile, of your voice, of your smell, of your body...

It was driving him insane, and most of all, it was driving him insane the fact that he didn't know what to do, so he just did what he knew how to do best: get angry and lash out.

Buggy was a master of self-sabotage, and as he yelled at you he knew very well that he was making a mistake, almost as if the real Captain was inside, screaming, banging and begging his body to stop betraying him, but he couldn't.

"Don't raise your voice at me!" You yelled with tears in your eyes.

"Or what!?" Buggy challenged, his voice raspy from yelling, as he finally turned around to face you.

His face showed anger and disgust, but his eyes conveyed a completely different message, one of sorrow and regret.

You looked at the desk next to the man, where his gun was. You grabbed it and, pulling the safety trigger, placed the barrel between his eyes.

"If I ever so much as annoy you, feel free to shoot me dead." You said, repeating Buggy's speech the night he had brought you to the ship "You're annoying me. You're making me angry, actually, which is arguably worse."

"Then shoot me."

If there was something you'd learned in your previous relationship, was to read emotions beyond words. You could see it in Buggy's eyes, it was obvious... He didn't mean what he was saying, he didn't mean to act this way. It didn't hurt any less to know he didn't mean it, but you at least wanted to know...

"Why?"

"Shoot me." Buggy repeated, his voice shaking every so slightly as your question had caused him to face everything he had been avoiding.

"Why." You asked once more, adamantly this time.

Buggy threw his hands up in frustration and groaned, taking a violent step closer to you.

"Because you're all I think about! Day and night, I can't stop thinking about you. There isn't a single thing that occupies my mind other than you. You are all that I've ever needed and all that I've ever wanted and you change me I-I'm different around you and I'm vulnerable and I'm scared!" The Captain was screaming like a madman getting tortured, fighting the side that wanted to shut you out and walk away and the side that wanted him to fall to his knees, beg for mercy and confess his love for you. He knew what he felt, even though he desperately tried to ignore it, but saying it out loud made it... real.

The gun made a loud sound that echoed in the room when you let it fall by your feet, so you could cup both his cheeks.

"Buggy... Why would you be scared? Have I done something to you that made you feel like you can't trust me?"

The man slowly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. He dipped his head, resting his forehead on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him tightly - you knew, after the short time you had spent together, that that was how he seeked some sort of comfort, Buggy turned into a little kid sometimes, that needed support and reassurance, and that was his way of asking for it.

"I don't want to leave you, Buggy, you've been good to me. But you can't treat me like this..."

"I'm... I'm sorry." His voice was shaky, a couple sobs here and there, and muffled from his head being buried in your shoulder "I trusted one person, once and he... betrayed me. And I didn't like him as much as I like you, not even close. I'm scared... Please don't leave me, I'm sorry for what I said, I'm sorry for yelling at you, I'm-"

You shut him up by lifting his head and giving him a kiss. It was simple and no longer than five seconds, but you'd both swear the world was spinning and fireworks were going off.

Buggy's big, green, teary eyes were staring at you when you pulled away. Once he processed what happened, the Captain grabbed your face and brought it close for another kiss. And then another, and another, and another - until he was out of breath from kissing and you were out of breath from giggling.

"I'm forgiven?" The man asked, still holding your face.

"You are forgiven, Buggy. I'd never, ever hurt you. And if I do, you can shoot me dead." You said, mimicking his speech.

He laughed and kissed you once more, a slower, deeper kiss.

"You're crazy, you know that?" Buggy asked, running his hand through your hair.

"We can be crazy together..." You replied, your eyes looking between his eyes and lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"That sounds like a plan I can get behind..." His voice trailed into a whisper as his head leaned to the side, the space between their lips slowly closing.

What started out as another innocent kiss gradually developed into a heated mess of tongues and saliva. Surprisingly, Buggy was very vocal, and there was no telling if it was the thigh between your legs or his needy whimpers that turned you on more, but you were sure feeling a different type of heat spread through your body.

You two pulled away from the kiss. His makeup was messy, some of it smeared on your face, his lips were red and plump from the biting and his hungry eyes searched your face.

"Please... can I fuck you?" His needy, whimpery and hushed voice nearly made your knees falter.

It was pathetic how he could ask you anything in that tone and you'd fall to your knees and you'd comply.

"Do it. Please do it Buggy, fuck me."

His hands trailed down to grip your ass with force, bringing your crotch to press against his. You felt his very hard cock press against you as he laughed in a raspy voice.

"Careful."

Those words were familiar... When you two slept together the first night... He wasn't angry you'd woken him up! He was warning you because he was horny.

You playfully traced his jawline with your nail.

"Do you worst." You whispered in his ear, teasing him.

Buggy pushed you to lay down on the bed. One of his knees pushed your legs open as his hand found your clothed pussy under your skirt. The Captain's lips paid attention to your neck as you slowly pulled his shirt up and over his head to claw at his back.

You were used to being the one doing all the work, so the amount of attention he gave you felt overwhelming - a very good type of overwhelming.

"Buggy- that feels good... So good..." You moaned.

Buggy chuckled as he kissed the red spots of skin on your neck he had kissed and sucked. His lips approached your ear and he softly bit your earlobe.

"I'm going to show you how a real man fucks."

The Captain's index finger hooked on the front of your panties and slowly brought them down. Two of his fingers ran along your exposed folds and his eyes widened. He brought them up to his face and separated them, showing you how they glistened with your juices.

"Already?" He paused and chuckled "I'm going to have fun."

Buggy placed his hands on your hips and flipped you two around, sitting you on his waist.

"Take it all off." The man said, gesturing to your clothes "And then sit on my face."

You had began to unbutton your blouse, but you stopped and blushed.

"I- I don't want to hurt you, maybe we could-"

You yelped as one of his hands came into contact with your ass harshly.

"I don't care if you suffocate me. Sit. On. My. Face."

You bit your lip and nodded, obeying his orders.

Buggy groaned and cursed under his breath as your pieces of clothing slowly came off one by one, and as your pussy hovered over his face, he swore he could've cum from the sight alone.

When you didn't fully lay your body weight on him, Buggy wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled your cunt down onto his face.

"Shit!" You shrieked and gripped his hair in your hands as your hips started moving along to the movements of his tongue.

"So this is what it's supposed to feel like-" You tought, too intoxicated in pleasure to blurt out anything that wasn't a moan.

Buggy's groans sent a different (yet very good) feeling through your body, and it only left you craving for more. You wanted him to keep going, but you wanted more, you needed more - as much as he could give you.

"More- please- I need more Buggy- I need you to fuck me." You begged between whimpers and sighs.

Buggy took his sweet time finishing his business, too pussy drunk to give it up immediately as you asked. Once he managed to peel himself away from between your legs, one of his strong arms wrapped around you and flipped you both.

His lips were quick to attatch to yours, and you could taste yourself in the Captain's tongue.

One of your hands cupped his face as the other worked on the zipper of his pants. Once you were able to slide your hand inside, you weren't surprised to find he was a fan of going commando.

Buggy pulled away and whined when you gripped his hard cock and swiped your thumb along the slit. His eyebrows were furrowed in pleasure and he was breathing hard.

"Do you want me to suck your cock, baby?" You asked, your voice dripping in fake innocence which caused him to chuckle.

Buggy kissed you softly.

"I'd love to princess, but I won't last. And I really want to fuck you."

"Then fuck me, Captain."

In one swift and quick move, Buggy placed the tip of his cock in your entrance and pushed inside of you, filling you up to the brim with his shaft.

His movements were smooth and proficient - it was almost as if his cock was made for you.

Your fingernails dug into Buggy's biceps, making him whine a little louder as his hips snapped against yours and his lips left small bites and open-mouth kisses wherever they could reach.

The Captain tried to be gentle with his touch, but he was so desperate for your body... it was nearly impossible. His fingers squeezed your sides, your ass and your thighs - he was in love with every curve of your body.

"You feel good... So good..." You admitted, breathlessly.

"Do I? Say my name."

"Buggy-" You moaned.

"Louder! I want them all to hear you."

"Buggy!" You yell-whimpered, as his cock hit a particular spot inside of you.

"That's right princess..." The clown bent over to bite your neck "This is what real cock feels like, from someone who knows how to fuck."

His whimpers and moans were sent straight to your pussy, who seemed to pulsate harder whenever his mouth hung open and the sinful sounds left past his lips.

Buggy seemed to read your mind: as you felt a nice feeling bubble up inside of you, one of his fingers sneaked between your bodies and rubbed your clit - a firm yet soft touch.

"I'm gonna need you to cum for me pretty, 'cause I can't last much longer with you squeezing me like that." Buggy confessed, looking down at his cock disappearing inside of you.

"Almost... I'm almost..." You breathlessly told him.

Buggy mantained his movements, working his hips and fingers until your back arched and your toes curled. The Captain had seen many places, many views and many people, but nothing came close to the beauty of your face when you climaxed, yelling his name.

The clown's mouth hung open, his brows furrowed and he moaned as he pulled out and came on your stomach, the hot cum splattering in different places.

"Guess I gotta clean up..." You said with a giggle.

Buggy looked up at you, with the mischiveous grin you'd learned to love and bent down. His tongue swiped across your abdomen, collecting every last drop of cum. He then pressed his lips against yours, dumping his cum into your mouth.

"There," The Captain said, stroking your red cheek "all cleaned up."

You could only giggle and press another kiss to his lips, as you shifted your positions so you could drape your leg over him and lay your head on his chest.

The two of you closed your eyes, his hand playing with your hair as you listened to his heartbeat.

"If you ever raise your voice at me again I will actually shoot you."

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @chennqingg | divider by @jiyascepter

Through The Years

Áki x Sađi

Jotun!King!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Æsir!Queen!Reader

Summary: This story takes you and Loki on a journey through the twins life. From their first steps all the way to their first time falling in love.

Warnings for this Chapter: Áki being his sassy self, royal things? fluff, suggestive smut/light smut, food - a lot, mutual pining? Loki and Y/N being the best supportive parents ever. Let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: 5,1k

a/n: Well... We reached one of the most important chapters... Áki is finding the man of his dreams! 🥰 I love this whole chapter very very much. It turned out just how I wanted. Also, this is my first time writing male x male, so... Pls go easy on me. ☺️

Kudos to @eleniblue , because she helped me plan out this whole story. Without her, this wouldn't exist.

❄️ Chapter Four ❄️ Chapter Six ❄️

Ice Flower AU Masterlist ❄ Loki Masterlist ❄ Masterlist

Chapter Five - Áki Finding Love

It was one of these days again, where the five-minute-older twin was on search for something to eat, aside from the regular meals. Áki had always been a little hog - since he was an infant. Well... Keeping the trained body of his and compensating all that energy he needed for training, a lot of food was required. That was just how it was.

So, the young prince made his way to one of his favourite places in the whole palace... The royal kitchen.

It was one of the few places, which were always busy. The kitchen was bustling with staff almost the whole day. Only at night was it completely, entirely quiet inside the big room. But when the prince rounded the corner and stepped through the open, beautifully crafted swinging doors of the kitchen, there were several Jotun's running around. Some of them cooks, some of them maids, some of them kitchen helpers - as per usual.

Áki knew everyone who worked there, of course. After all, he was the part of the royal family who spent the most time in this place of the palace. And, the staff knew him... "Greetings, your highness," addressed him first an older lady, wearing a white apron and a smile. Atla - she was a kitchen helper and already worked here for ages. Áki returned the smile and gave her a nod, before he continued his journey through his own personal paradise - and paradise was smelling delicious.

"My prince," the head cook greeted him as well, and took a small bow. "What can we serve you today? We've got a lot of food today." The young Jotun bit his lip in a thinking manner, before he answered: "I don't know yet. I'll keep on looking." Another bow from the head cook. "As you wish, my prince."

Áki's feet led him to the cool room, in which he finally found his 'object of desire'... Cake. Blueberry cake, to be precisely. Perfect for an afternoon snack. Having the good manners his parents taught him, he asked of course first, if he could have a bite of the cake - and who was the staff to deny him this? So, he took a big slice from the cake in his hands, smiling happily. But just when he made his way out of the cool room, an accident happened... Therefore, that the prince had to close the door, he had his back towards the main room. Turning around and walking away, his hard, muscular chest suddenly clashed against a not so strong and not so muscular chest, causing the cake to get sandwiched between his and the other Jotun's torso. Cream and blueberries were smeared all over Áki's bare chest, before it dripped to the ground, like the rest of the cake. And not just the cake... The poor man he crashed against with all his strength was send to the floor as well.

"I-I'm s-so s-sorry!" The man on the kitchen floor apologised immediately. The horror in his eyes was clearly visible, since he knew exactly who was standing in front of him and what he had gotten himself into. But the prince said nothing at first; had his eyes only settled on the poor soul who had crashed against him.

Áki had never seen the young Jotun before. Not here in the kitchen or elsewhere inside the palace. He must be new...

He was tall, but not quite as tall as Áki. His physique was not exactly the one of a warrior. He was a bit sturdier. Strong, but not muscular. His golden-brown hair was long; clearly reaching his shoulders, but currently tight up into a bun. Shocked, wide ruby eyes looking up at him. "M-My p-prince, I-I'm so clumsy, I..."

The prince was like frozen in time for a long moment, but he didn't know why. Just when his brain had caught up with the situation he was in, and Áki was about to say something, the head cook walked into the scene. "Sađi, you clumsy, feckless boy! What did you do?!" Sađi looked up to his boss with fearful eyes. "I-I-I..." He stammered; trying to somehow explain himself. The head cook leaned down and grabbed him by his arm. "Get on your damn knees and apologise to the prince, will you?!" He hissed at the younger man - inaudible to Áki, before pushing him forwards onto his knees.

Sađi was visibly a bit overwhelmed by the situation - and quite afraid of his chief; small tears gathering in his deep ruby eyes. "A-Apologies, your h-highness."

The pain in the young Jotun's eyes didn't go unnoticed by Áki. The usually so tough warrior's demeanour shifted. He squatted down and placed his hand on Sađi's shoulder. "You're forgiven."

That was the first time Áki's and Sađi's paths crossed. But it shouldn't stay at only one encounter, oh no...

Sađi had made a lasting impression on the prince. Áki couldn't put a finger on it, what exactly it was that kept the simple kitchen helper on his mind. It was just how it was. Perhaps it was the reason why his feet lead him more often than before to the royal kitchen? Just to get a glimpse at the attractive young Jotun, which had undoubtedly caught his attention?

The prince had noticed quite early in his teenage years, that he was more into men than women. His brother, you and Loki knew that, of course, but it wasn't a problem. Why should it be? Everybody accepted it - and Áki the way he was.

"You are my son, Áki. That won't change. Neither does the love I feel for you. If you like men, you like men. If someone can understand this, it's me." His father had told him with a smile and wink; hand placed on his shoulder. Áki liked to think back to that day. It had been an important moment in his life.

"What can we do for you today, my prince?" The head cook asked Áki, but the prince's attention was somewhere else; eyes directed on the Jotun with the long golden-brown hair. He watched him cutting some vegetables. A smile tugged at the warrior's lips, whenever Sađi swerved from side to side to change his cutting tactics. Or when a frown crossed his features, when the vegetables didn't want things to go as he did.

"My prince?" The head cook addressed Áki again, which caused him to shortly break his stare. "Yes? What did you ask?" "What we can do for you today, your highness." Áki's eyes started to travel immediately again. "I, uh... I'd like to have something sweet." "Something sweet?" Áki nodded, checking Sađi out, who currently had his back towards them. "Mhm, yes... Something sweet. Dessert." He just couldn't help himself. "Dessert?" "Yes." The cook nodded, "Of course, my prince." and turned around.

"Sađi! Prepare some dessert for the prince! ASAP!"

The Jotun nodded frantically. "Yes, Sir!"

Áki watched then with a smile, how the handsome kitchen helper ran from one point to the next, hurrying to finish his given task. Áki found it utterly cute how much effort he put in it. Just for him.

About five minutes later, Sađi approached the prince cautiously; trying to appear as polite as possible. "Dessert, your highness." Áki smiled and took the plate from his hands; ruby eyes boring into the matching ones of Sađi. "I thank you." Sađi swallowed and flashed the prince a small smile as well. "I hope it is to your liking." "Oh, I am sure it tastes delicious." With those words, the warrior turned on his heels and left the kitchen again.

Their next encounter was only a few days later. A very fateful encounter, to say the least. Perhaps it was destiny...

The night had settled over Jotunheim. It was past midnight so everyone was asleep. Everyone, except Áki. The prince had just woken up to a rumbling stomach; signalling him to get some food inside him. So, that's what Áki did. He stood up and made his way - like so often, to the kitchen. It wasn't the first time, that he took a little trip to this place of the palace at night, but it's been a trip he didn't do in a long time. Usually, he kept some food in his chambers, but someway somehow led his feet him today to the kitchen - and what he found there, was something he didn't expect even in his wildest dreams...

A dim light was shining on the dark hallway; coming undoubtedly from the kitchen. With furrowed brows, Áki sneaked to the big room. One hand was resting on the dagger, which was in the pocket of his dressing gown. Ready to face whatever danger or thief lurked inside, the warrior stormed the room - only to find the young Jotun, on which he had casted an eye.

"What in the name of Yggdrasil are you doing here?"

Áki's voice echoed through the kitchen, causing Sađi to yelp up and flinch. He was so frightened, that he threw with shock the onion he was holding in his hand away. "P-Prince Áki, I-I..." He stammered, turning beet red. The prince crossed his arms over his chest, stepping closer. "Again, I am asking... What are you doing here? Or should I go, get the guards?" Sađi's eyes widened even more. "O-Oh, no, no, by the n-norns, please don't! I-I need this job, I... Please! I-I'll tell you everything! Just p-please don't get the guards!" "Alright," said Áki and leaned against a kitchen counter. "Tell me."

The young Jotun nodded and took a deep breath. "I-I am practising." Áki frowned. "Practising?" "Y-Yes, because I wish to become a cook. I-It is my biggest dream, b-but I can't reach this dream without practicing. And the head cook doesn't let me practice, s-so I sneak inside the kitchen at night, t-to practice. N-Nobody usually ever comes here at night..." "Well, I do." Áki pointed out; stepping closer to the kitchen helper, causing Sađi to swallow hard. "So, you'd like to become a cook, yes?" "Y-Yes, your highness."

Áki nodded towards the several pots and pans standing on the stove. "Show me what you got then." Sađi was a bit confused at first. "W-What?" "Show me what you got." "O-Okay. I-If you wish, my prince." With a shaking hand, he took a small plate and put something from the dish he cooked on it, before handing it Áki, who tasted it on an instant.

Full of fear and anticipation, Sađi gazed at the warrior prince. He started to nod. "Yes... Tastes not bad. Needs improvement, but it's definitely not bad. You got talent, I see." "T-Thank you, your highness." Áki thought for a moment, as an idea crossed his mind. "I have an offer for you. A deal..." He started, circling the Jotun like a predator its prey. "A d-deal?" "Yes," he hissed, causing a shiver to run down Sađi's spine. "I'll tell nobody about your little... trips here at night. I'll let you keep on practicing. And as a quid pro quo, I'll get to taste and eat the wonderful dishes you cook. Do we have an agreement, Sađi?" The aspiring cook nodded with a small smile. "Yes, yes, absolutely! I thank you, my prince."

From that point on, the two men meet often at night in the royal kitchen. Sađi to improve his skills as a cook and Áki to quench his hunger. Over the days, weeks and months, Sađi's cooking skills improved - and not just that... Their relationship as well. They went from barely knowing each other to way more. The lines of royal blood and not royal blood slowly but surely blurring. While Áki let his guards more and more down and stopping his princely behaviour, Sađi got more open and confident.

And when the prince was really bold one night and asked Sađi, if he had a girlfriend, the kitchen helper blushed in the deepest shades of red and told the warrior that he was more into boys and not girls.

This fateful night caused the sexual tension to grown undoubtedly between them. Every accidental touch left a prickling, sizzling sensation behind, which caused both men's skins to burn. It was like an ever-burning fire, which was indelible.

At one point Áki just decided to act on it. He started to leave his dressing gown at his chambers, attending the nightly meetings only in his sleep shorts and giving the young cook more to look at; subtly urging him on to make the first move. It threw Sađi off track, of course, but not even with all the confidence he had gained over the weeks did he dare to make said first move. So Áki had to do it - or optionally making Sađi cave in. Both ways would work for the prince just fine...

"Now you have to slowly add the wine," Sađi explained; looking happily, but concentrated at the prince. He was in the zone; definitely enjoying what he was doing. Someday, Áki had asked him what exactly he was doing and how he was going to do it, and since that night, Sađi explained happily every step of a new meal he learned and practiced to cook. Áki though, mostly didn't pay attention. At least not to the young Jotun's instructions. He was way too distracted by Sađi himself...

"Add the wine?" Áki asked, eyes glued to Sađi's hands, which gripped the bottle of wine. "Yes, but slowly." He added some of the wine to the pot, causing it to steam. "Have you seen how much?" "Mhh," the prince answered absent-minded; had only paid attention to the bulging veins in his crush's hand and certainly not to the amount of wine. "What's next?" "Next, you have to stir the sauce and slowly add a bit more wine. Look." Sađi demonstrated what he had just explained - and Áki saw the first opportunity tonight to make his move.

While the aspiring cook stirred the sauce, Áki stepped even closer towards him. He placed himself behind Sađi, so that he could look over his shoulder; all the while pressing his bare torso against Sađi's old, shabby chef's jacket clad back. His arms sneaked around the Jotun. One hand landing on top of Sađi's (The one which was stirring the sauce.), and the other on the edge of the counter; literally caging the man. It caused a soft, almost inaudible gasp to leave the gold-brown-haired Jotun's lips. But Áki heard it, of course and started to grin.

"Do you need help with that?" The prince whispered in Sađi's ear; making sure to keep his voice as deep and husky as possible. The cook shivered. "I-I-I, uh... Actually n-not, b-but, uh, s-sure," he stammered. A sign that Áki's move had been fruitful. He had clearly put him off his stride. "Alright." Áki added and slipped his fingers through Sađi's, in order to help him stir the sauce. The longer the warrior's touch lasted, the more started Sađi's hand - which held onto the bottle of wine - to shake. Something that didn't slip Áki's attention as well. "Now, now what is the matter, young Sir Bjørnson? Are we nervous?" Sađi swallowed hard; his Adam's apple bobbing. "I-I-" Áki smiled; happy to be able to get such a reaction from the cook. If there was something he was good in, then it was fighting - obviously, flirting and seduction. The mixture of yours and Loki's genes clearly playing a big role in this one...

"Or... Is it the touch of my body against yours?" Áki breathed in Sađi's ear. "Am I too close to you, or... Too far from you?" Every hair on Sađi's neck was standing up at the prince's words. He had a hard time to control his breathing. "Hm?" To test the theory, Áki took a small step backwards, to bring some space between his and the young male - who let out a small whine immediately. Once the realisation dawned on him, Sađi's eyes widened. But he just couldn't help himself. It just had slipped past his lips - just like the soft moan, when Áki pressed his body back against his, "Ahh, I see... Too far." including his hips.

Sađi's eyes went shut at the sudden, very intimate contact. This only made it worse - in the best way possible. He felt like standing on the edge of a cliff and Áki was the one in control; deciding whether he was going to fall - or not.

"Better?" Áki asked in a low voice. A question which the young Jotun could only answer with a shaky nod. "Good. Now where were we? Ah, the sauce, right. Continue, please."

Sađi's head started to spin. How dare he? How dare he brings him in such a situation? How in the nine realms would he be able to keep cooking, with the handsome prince's crotch pressed against his bottom? "M-My p-prince, I-I-" His voice was so hoarse, it died in his throat.

The prince grinned even wider. Almost. He almost had him. "Yes?" "I-I... Can't, I..." Time to make the final move, thought Áki. Quickly - before Sađi could even react, he had spun the gold-brown-haired Jotun around in his embrace. Two hands gripping now the edge of the kitchen counter; pinning the surprised cook between the warrior's body and the cool, hard furniture. "You can't, huh? Well... Is there something else you'd rather do than cooking?" Sađi's mouth opened and closed, but no words were leaving his lips. The warrior smiled, "Go on, say it. I know you want me to." and leaned closer to his ear once more. "But I won't do it, unless you tell me to."

And with that, the dam finally broke. Sađi fell off the cliff; free falling. "K-Kiss... Kiss me."

Áki's heart skipped a beat. Finally. Finally! "Very well." Within the blink of an eye, Áki cupped Sađi's cheeks with both hands and literally slammed his lips on the young man's. Sađi was immediately enchanted by the kiss; hungry lips searching for more. It had been long overdue.

The prince soon brought his body into the game; pressing it against Sađi's and trapping him even more. The Jotun whimpered into the passionate kiss at the sudden friction; hands clawing into Áki's muscular waist.

Only when it was hard to breathe for them, did they break the kiss. Both panted; lips red and kiss swollen. In a rather bold move shifted the warrior his hands, until they landed on the cook's bottom; pulling him even closer against himself and creating more friction. "Spend the night with me," he spoke in a low, seductive voice, almost growling. Sađi's eyes widened. "S-Spend the night with you? I-I don't know, I..." His words caused Áki's heart to sunk. "Don't you... want to spend the night with me?" Sađi quickly shook his head; clearly noticed the sad tone in the Jotun's voice. "No, no, no, norns, no! I want nothing more than to do just that, but..." Relief flooded the warrior's veins. "But what?" Sađi sighed. "My prince, I-" "Stop," Áki interrupted him immediately. "It's Áki for you. No title, no formalities." He nodded. "Áki, I... I don't know if this is a good idea. You are the prince and I am... me..."

The prince shook his head. "I don't care, Sađi. I just want you. We can keep it secret and no one has to know, but please... Don't deny me. I waited so long for this. All I longed for was to kiss you. Touch you," he said, running one hand over Sađi's broad back. "Feel you. Hel, I lost count of how many times I touched myself to the thought of you." Those words send another shiver down the cook's spine. A tingling sensation formed in the pit of his stomach and gathering in his crotch. Sađi blushed, eyelids fluttering. "Y-You did that?" "Mhm," Áki purred and Sađi swallowed.

"I'd say, we clean here up as fast as possible and then take a trip to my chambers. What do you say? You'll even get a free room tour. And perhaps I take you into my bathing chamber as well." He winked, causing Sađi's knees to buckle. "I'd love to, my pri- Áki." The prince smiled, before sealing 'the deal' with another passionate kiss.

This was one of many nights the two men spend together in secret. It was more than just a one-night-stand. Áki had fallen for the handsome kitchen helper already a long time ago, even before he started to bed him. And the warrior was certain, that what he felt was, without a doubt, love.

As for Sađi, it took him some time to sort out his feelings. Was it just fun? Was it serious? He was torn a very long time, but in the end, Sađi couldn't deny that there were indeed feelings involved. At least from his side. He struggled quite a bit to interpret Áki's signals and unfortunately got them wrong. One oppressive thought led to the other, and at some point, it escalated and Sađi couldn't take it anymore...

Sađi was the last one in the kitchen today - like so often. After all, he was still nothing more than a helper and the other kitchen staff loved to leave the cleaning up to him. His dream of being a cook not yet palpable.

It didn't take long for the prince to join his lover, like he did whenever he got time and was not busy with royal duties. Making sure, that nobody was around, Áki stepped over to Sađi, who was currently cleaning some pots and pans. "Do they still leave you alone to clean up their mess?" It wasn't really a question from the warrior; rather an assessment. Áki wrapped his muscular arms loosely around Sađi's torso; chest pressed against back. The prince angled his head, tried to catch the aspiring cook's lips, as he looked over his shoulder - but Sađi avoided Áki's attempt for a kiss and turned his head away. "You know that they never stopped it."

Áki frowned; noticed immediately that something wasn't right. "What's wrong?" Sađi shook his head, "Nothing." and stepped away from the prince. Áki didn't believe a single word, of course. "Oh, come on, Sađi. Tell me what's wrong. I am not blind." The young Jotun answered nothing, just kept on cleaning up the mess. Áki shrugged his shoulders; was quite a bit offended. "Fine. If you don't want to talk, I'll leave." The prince turned on his heels and marched towards the open doors. What he didn't see coming, was Sađi's voice, holding him back. "We can't do this anymore." The warrior stopped dead in his tracks. Frowning, he slowly turned to face the golden-brown haired man he fell so deeply in love with. "What do you mean?"

The handsome kitchen helper took a deep, shaky breath. "This. Us. It has to stop." Áki was utterly confused. "Us? Why? Why does it needs to stop? Do you..." He swallowed. "Do you not... enjoy yourself?" Sađi shook his head, causing a few strands to break free from his loose man bun and to fall into his face. "N-No, I... I do enjoy it. What we have is... thrilling. Magical, wonderful - but..." Tears gathered in his beautiful ruby eyes. "I can't do this to myself anymore, because it breaks my damn heart every time." Áki still wasn't able to follow his words. "It breaks your heart? Why?" Sađi buried his face in his hands; almost desperately, that the oblivious prince didn't catch what he was trying to say. "You are the prince, Áki! I am a mere kitchen helper and wannabe cook! Just think about what the people - your people would say about this! Or the king and queen!" He scoffed; shaking his head. "I get that you are free to sleep with whoever you wish. I guess it's your privilege as a member of the royal family, but... I don't want to be your lover anymore. I don't want to be just another man on a long list of affairs. I'm not the only one you are bedding - and it destroys me, because..." Sađi paused for a moment; drawing in another shaky breath. "Because I fell in love with you! And I'd rather leave, before my heart gets entirely broken."

With those words, the aspiring cook threw the towel he was holding inside his hands on the kitchen counter, passed by a literally stunned Áki and headed straight for the door. But just like Áki before, he got stopped. The prince needed a moment to collect himself, though. His brain needed to process first, what his ears had heard. But once it did, a warm feeling spread throughout his whole body - and he smiled. "Sađi." He spoke up firmly, causing the other Jotun to stand still; freezing in his movements. "I won't let you walk out of that door." "W-What? Why?" Sađi's face mirrored confusion, as he turned to look at the warrior. Seems like they both had been oblivious to the other's feelings...

"Because I love you, you blind, silly boy."

Sađi blinked. Stunned. "I... You... W-What?" He definitely needed a moment to process that. "You... You love me?" He asked; disbelief swinging in his voice. Áki just smiled and stepped closer to his lover, gently taking Sađi's hands in his. "Yes, I do. Perhaps since the first time I had ever laid my eyes upon you." The helper blinked again, then looked at their intertwined hands. "I-I-I-" "Ah.Ah," the prince interrupted him, while walking Sađi towards the next wall. "Less talking..." He pressed his body against the cold stone surface; hands wandering to the helper's hips. "... and more kissing." With a smoulder only his father could do better, Áki's lips found Sađi's, asking them for a dance.

Áki's and Sađi's worlds were suddenly more than just alright. They had found each other, were helplessly in love and enjoyed the rare time they had together. Nevertheless, they decided to keep this a secret at first, except for one person. Váli. Váli was the only person who knew, since Áki loved his twin brother dearly and shared everything with him. But the secret itself didn't stay a secret for long anyways...

It was time for dinner in the palace. Áki was the first one to find his way to the dining hall, of course. You were a little late, and Loki and Váli not present, since they were away on Svartalfheim for some royal duties.

"Hey," you greeted your son warmly, placing a hand on his muscular biceps, before you sat down. "Hey, mom." "Sorry for the delay." Áki smiled, "No worries. I learned to wait." and winked, causing you to giggle. While you and your son ate, you talked about anything and everything. You enjoyed the moments you could spend with your sons, since they definitely lived their own life's by now.

Mere ten minutes later, dinner got served - and for the first time by none other than Sađi. When Áki saw his boyfriend walking towards the table, together with two other servants, his heart sped up. Of course, he was more than happy to see him, just like Sađi was, but the two of them tried hard to not let it show - which turned later out to be not really successful.

It was simple gestures. Things the two men didn't even realise. The subtle smiles, lingering gazes, eye contact, hand brushing... They didn't notice - but you did. After all, you were Áki's mother and it was kind of in your instincts to notice everything, right? You more than once bit your lip in order to hide the smile. Your son had seemingly found love - and you couldn't be happier. To be entirely sure, though, you decided to address him.

Once dinner was over and there was no servant left - just you and Áki, you took the initiative. Áki already stood up, though and was on his way to leave, when you stopped him. "Áki, hey, wait a minute, please." Your son waited, of course; turned to face you. "Yes, mom?" You patted on the chair beside you, smiling. "Take a seat." Without hesitation, Áki did what you ask him to. Full of anticipation what you were going to say, he looked at you. You reached out your hand and brushed a lose curl of his raven hair behind his ear. He looked so much like his father. You smiled even wider. "So... Who is he?" The prince frowned. "Who is who, mother?" You nodded towards the closed doors, which led to the kitchen. "The handsome servant with golden-brown hair."

Áki turned red on an instant. "I-I, uh..." "I know you two tried to be inconspicuous, but... Let's say it this way… It didn't quite work out." Your son cleared his throat; knowing that their secret wasn't a secret anymore. "Well, mom... His, uh... His name is Sađi and he works here as a kitchen helper. But he aspires to be a cook." "Sađi... Beautiful name - and an aspiring cook? What a perfect match for you." You smiled. "So, it is something serious between the two of you?" He nodded; unable to suppress a smile. "Yes. We are together." "That is wonderful, son. I'm happy for you." Áki smiled bashfully. "Thank you, mom." The so confident prince suddenly wasn't so confident anymore. "It... It isn't a problem for you that he's 'just' a kitchen helper and no prince or of royal blood?" You shook your head and placed your hand on his. "Why should it? Quite the opposite... I'd love to meet him properly one day. As long as you love each other... That's more important than anything. Than status or heritage. Believe me when I tell you, I know what I am talking about - and so does your father." Áki smiled. "Thank you, again. And yes, I promise you, you are definitely going to meet him properly one day."

Another smile crossed your face, as you leaned over to hug your son. A gesture which he returned gladly. "Áki... I am so proud of you. Just... Look at you. You've grown into a strong, confident young man. You are proud of what you are and who you love. It's beautiful." The prince almost started to cry when he heard this. "Oh, mom, I..." He hugged you again; now even tighter. "And your father is proud, too. I hope you know that." He smiled. "Yes... I know." "I love you." Your son backed up from the tight embrace to press a kiss on your cheek. "And I love you."

Tags: @eleniblue @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @smolvenger @hisredheadedgoddess28 @icytrickster17 @chennqingg @glitchquake @princess-ofthe-pages @elegantcheesecakecrown @crimson25 @buttercupcookies-blog @herdetectivetheorist @loz-3 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @simping-for-marvel @km-ffluv @stupidthoughtsinwriting @jennyggggrrr @lady-rose-moon @lovingchoices14 @salvinaa @irishhappiness @sheris532 @princessdragon23 @kimanne723 @mandywholock1980 @xxannyxx @the-holy-trinity-I

[tillthelandslide]

Insufferable Arsehole Part 15: You

A/n: hi everyone! Feels so surreal to say but this is the penultimate chapter of insufferable arsehole *cries*. I love this series so much so please feel free to send in any requests you want to see from these characters. But the main series is nearly over *sobs*. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I love you all so much and thank you for all your support <3. I want to give a massive shout out to @ughgoaway and @justanamesstuff for loving this series as much as I do. Without all of your support (but especially my loving ia stans) this series would've been over a long time ago. I love you guys so much. Hope you enjoy <3

Extra note: I wrote all the little poems in the notebook part of this series. They're all original (whether you think they're shit or you like them) please don't copy them.

Previous Part

Series Masterlist

Matty’s POV

The sofa I'm lying on feels way too comfortable, the warmth of it making it hard for me to get up. It’s soft beneath me and it lures me into closing my eyes.  I have things I need to do, I have people I need to call, meetings I need to attend, friends I need to make sure are okay, set lists to read and adjust. A wonderful and loving girlfriend who I need to show my love for. But lying here, listening to the soft strum of the guitar she's playing has my closed eyes fluttering and my body weighing down on the sofa. I don't fall asleep, I just lie with my eyes closed, letting her voice drift over me - consume me.

I had moments like these, moments where I felt... Numb. But she pulls me out of them, or at least fills my body with something other than numbness, she touches the parts that can't usually be persuaded on days like these. These moments were few and far between with the presence of Lou in my life and somehow it makes this time worse. I feel guilty for feeling this way, for feeling low, for slipping into a dark space. I shouldn’t be feeling like this, I had a wonderful girlfriend, I was finally with the girl meant for me. And I had friends, great friends who were more like family. I had adoring fans and I did what I felt like I was meant to for a living. Life was perfect… So why did I feel so unworthy of it all?

It had started earlier this morning when I had snapped at one of the music techs, I hadn't meant to and I felt guilty as soon as I did it. Her warm hand clamped around my shoulder almost immediately, telling me to go lie down and so I did. I heard her apologise for my actions, explaining that I was 'tired'. I felt thankful she didn't tell the guy the real reason. The guys understood it, maybe even more than Lou, so when she spoke to them before she came back to me, they got it. Jamie had once described me as someone with a huge ego but no self worth, in moments like these, I had to agree. 

The sound of the guitar stops and I hear her set it down, I hear the shuffle of the foot stall, feel a light bump against the side of the sofa, feel her soft hand drifting up my back, up to my neck and then my head, pushing the curls away and making my eyes flutter open.

My heart beat falters, my breath matching it, her beautiful eyes look down at me, soothing me. It was hard to describe them, they were ever changing. I wouldn't say they were green, but they weren't blue or grey either, it was as if those colours alone weren't enough for someone like Lou, they weren't special or unique so whoever created her (I don't believe in God but some greater being had to create a person like her) decided to make a new colour, a combination of all things beautiful. They had hints of grey and specs of yellow and sometimes the sun made them look piercingly blue but the sun could also make them look like emeralds. They were perfect, one look into them and I can feel myself slipping from the dark spaces of my mind. 

"Hi my sweet boy" it surprises me that I don't have to tell her what I need from her in times like these, she just got it. As if she had access to all parts of my brain, able to peek in and see what I needed and having the ability to just give it to me without a shred of hesitation or an ulterior motive. It shouldn’t surprise me, not anymore, not when I knew she was it for me, the only one I ever want to be with, to spend the rest of my life with. The person who was mine and I theirs.

"Hi" I don't recognise the voice that comes from me, a low, deep grumble of a sad man. One that felt like a distant memory, the voice of someone I used to know, not the person I am now.

"I want to show you something" she says and I find myself nodding, she places her black leather notebook in my lap and I find my heart beating three times as hard as I look at it. She had never shown me this before, showing someone this is like showing them your deepest thoughts and emotions, baring your soul to them. I had watched her scribble in it countless times, I had watched as she wrote lyrics that pulled her lips up at the corners, I had watched as she scribbled down angrily, tears falling from her eyes and coating the pages. 

I remember the only time I had come close to reading the lyrics, pinning her down to a hotel bed in some forgotten location, tickling her sides until the book slipped from her fingertips, holding the pages above her head just out of reach as our laughter was all that could be heard. I remember the way she begged me to give it back, of course I would never have read it without her permission. I remember her pleas made me drop the book and bury my face into her neck. She made me forget about the lyrics easily, too wrapped up in her to care about them. 

"Are you sure?" I ask, sitting up slightly so my back is against the armrest of the sofa, pulling the book towards me and playing with the frayed edges. She smiles at me, her hand resting against my jaw, her thumb running over her bone, making my eyes flutter momentarily.

"Sometimes I think you forget how much you mean to people, you forget how much people love you... And not just me, the band and the crew, your family, my family, the fans... Of course I can only speak for myself... So I want you to read this" she speaks, voice soft and delicate. Beautiful.

I want to speak. To tell her I love her. To thank her. I want to smile. To press my lips against hers. But my eyes won't leave the book.

"most of them aren't finished... They're not songs... They're just things I wrote, little poems" she says and I nod, looking up from the book.

"I love you Matty" she says, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to my forehead before leaving me. It takes a while for me to open the book, scared of what I'll find. My shaky hands eventually separate the cover from the first page.

I find a few I recognise, like the one she posted on Instagram, the one I loved:

"I'd stay with you here forever, you with those dark eyes and darker hair, the epitome of beauty, you put Adonis to shame, with the way you paint my brain, with everything that is you, you with those dark eyes and darker hair. The epitome of beauty."

Her handwriting is delicate, cursive and, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. I'm not surprised because everything she does is beauty. She is beauty.

I flick through the pages, little photos taped to the corners or wedged in, the photos make my heart swell. Photos of her and G, one in particular making me smile: a photo of Lou sitting on George's shoulders, looking as if she was scared to fall down, but she's laughing and so is George and his hands are clamped on her thighs that rest around his head ensuring she doesn't fall. A picture of her and Ross, pulling funny faces at each other, they both look younger, Ross’ hair is short and Lou’s is too, I wish I had her like that back then, even now, even still - I regret the time we lost.  I find a picture she took of me, her thighs resting either side of my waist as she takes a photo from above, I feel like a different person than the one smiling up at me. I see another one taken in a photo booth, one where we're kissing, it makes me smile.

I read on, my heart slowly being refilled with love and beauty and kindness and feeling.

I could bask in you for endless days and endless nights. For you are the sun that shines and glistens. For you are the one that warms my once cold heart and bones.

You're the sun in winter, warming up bones and creating smiles. You're rain on a summer's day, soaking the sweat away. You're all things good and kind and lovely. You're love and sex and beauty. You're the definition of passion. Cigarettes and coffee and fresh and home. You're my favourite scent. My favourite sound. My favourite sight. My favourite thought. My favourite feeling. You touch me and I feel you everywhere. Burying into my being. You're mine. My favourite scent. Cigarettes, coffee, fresh, home. My home.

I loved the complexity of some but simply adored the simplicity of others. Reading the ones which don't hide behind metaphors, they're purer somehow.

Pain engraved my brain. Hurt twisted through my mind. Envy soaked through my eyes. You appeared , all those emotions vanished. I began to love the way you loved me. I found myself loving you more. I used to hate you, I hated hating you. I love you now, I love loving you and  I love you loving me.

I smile, a huge smile and I feel it seep through my bones, warming my cold body, feeling finally flooding back in.

Red lips and brown eyes. Black curls and tattooed skin. I'd like to paint in you in my mind so I could have you here forever

The few words are the only ones on this particular page, the rest is filled with pictures of us, a picture of the M necklace I gave her, a picture of my marked neck, her marks. There's a picture of us kissing, ones in which any other circumstance would cause my skin to heat up and my blood to rush south. There’s sweet pictures too, of us in Rome, our hands intertwined, pictures of our tattoos we got together. 

The ropes within unwind under your command. Just say the word and I'll follow you to the ends of the earth.

Matty is sun kissed cheeks on summer days, cherry blossom on withered ground, swirling clouds amongst technicolour skies.

I turn the page and a larger piece of paper falls out, I unfold it carefully, taking my time in reading the words I find on the page:

Dear George,

I’m writing to you from Rome. Seems a bit weird to be writing you a letter knowing I’m going to be seeing you soon. Was feeling nostalgic I guess… Remember the days when we were both on tour and we’d write these big long letters to each other from wherever in the world we were. It was such a pain trying to make sure they were sent to you before you left that city or town. I remember us arguing one day because Jamie had complained about the amount of money he kept having to spend to retrieve the letters when had arrived a little too late. Grumpy sod.

Anyway, you’d usually write about how the tour was going, how Matty had been getting on your nerves. I always wondered whether you just said that to make me feel better for not getting on with your best friend. You’d send me pictures of you with Ross and Hann and I’d send you pictures of me and the girls (usually receiving a text from you or Macdonald after that made me want to hit you around the head - pervs)

Strange how different things seem now. Like now for instance - I'm writing this, by the pool (this place is fucking huge, you and Charli would love it here), Matty’s napping next to me. He’s sleeping with this dopey grin and… I love him George. So much. Please don’t try to cringe too much reading this. His skin isn’t as pale anymore. Shock right? Our pale boy has a tan!

 I want to thank you G. Thank you for everything. You’ve been the best friend I could have ever asked for… but thank you for bringing me him. Matty is everything George. The way he loves me is nothing I have ever felt before. I know now that everything up until now is worth it because now I have him.

I can’t help but wonder how I ever could have hated him. He cares so deeply for every one G… sometimes I wonder if it's too much, if he’s going to get hurt in the end. But that’s okay. Because he has me. And he has you and the boys. And together we love him deeply (still probably half as much as he loves us). I’m going to spend every day of my life proving to him that he is worthy.

So thank you George. He’s the love of my life. He owns my heart, now and forever. 

Your best friend - Lou x

My heart picks up in my chest, I love her, more than anyone I have ever loved in my life. I feel tears fall from my eyes, coating my cheeks. I swipe them away before they have a chance to hit the pages. 

But you... It was different with you

That's my favourite, my fingers find the page and I carefully tear the page out, I fold it gently and tuck it into my pocket.

I stand from the sofa, feeling weightless now, feeling love for her in every fibre of my being. I walk around the venue, trying to find her. I find George who smiles at me widely.

"glad to see you perked up a bit" he says with a hand to my shoulder.

"Where's Lou?" My abruptness takes him back but it doesn't stop him from answering. I appreciate that.

"She's with your mum in the kitchen, they're baking" George clearly sees my shocked face and he chuckles "yeah your mum is here" I hug him tightly before I leave him, heading for the kitchen.

My legs move too quickly for my brain to register but I don't care, I need to find her. My mum spots me before Lou does and she smiles widely.

"Hello Matthew, feeling any better?" She asks, Lou looks up at me as she finishes speaking.

"Explained to your mum that you were feeling a little tired" Lou explains and I nod, smiling at her.

"Much better mum, thank you" I say leaning down to place a peck against her cheek.

Lou's hands are covered in flour and it makes me smile. I squeeze past my mother with a gentle "excuse me" . My hands find Lou's waist and I hitch her up, making her smile.

"Matty put the poor woman down" my mother scolds me but I don't stop. Lou's hands find my shoulders as she feels like she's going to fall.

"I've got flour on your shirt now idiot" she says but she's still smiling. She looks down at me and I see everything in her eyes, every emotion, every indication that she loves me. I love her, god do I love you. 

"I don't care, come here" I say, one hand finding her chin and lightly pulling her towards me.

"Matty, your mum" she says, eyes flicking over my shoulder to my mum who giggles to herself, busying herself with the baking..

"I. Don't. Care" I say with the widest smile I think has ever graced my features.

"What has gotten into you?" She asks, smiling widely. Her eyes sparkle. God she's beautiful.

"I love you Lou, so much, you're everything. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you, if that's okay with you" I say, I hear my mum coo behind us and Lou smiles above me, her legs wrapping around my waist to support herself more.

"Fine with me Healy" she says, leaning down to press her lips against mine finally. The kiss is kept short to save my mother seeing us in a compromising position.

"But you, it was different with you" I repeat her own words back to her and she nods.

"Yeah..." She says and I see her eyes well with tears, I feel myself copying her, placing her back on the floor but moving my head down to kiss her again. I hold her to my side as I turn to my mother.

"I'll leave you both to bake," I say, pressing a firm kiss to her cheek, smiling at my mother. .

"Okay" she says with a smile. I hug my mum tightly before I walk out, but I don't miss my mother's words

"That boy is obsessed with you, I've never ever known him to love someone as much as you" she says.

"Trust me, the same goes for him. I'd do anything for him" Lou's words make me smile and so I continue walking.

I find George again, happy to find him with Hann and Ross.

"Good you're all here" I say, drawing their attention towards me.

"Everything okay mate?" Ross asks and I smile as I nod.

"I need your help"

"Anything," George says.

"I'm going to ask Lou to marry me" they all smile widely at me, I like that. My eyes flick to George’s. He seems expressionless for a second.

“If that’s okay with you” I ask, I see George’s lip quiver slightly and his fingers grip his bottom lip as he nods. I see tears coat his eyes as he steps forward, grabbing my hand in his and pulling me forward into a hug.

“Fuck yeah” I find myself crying too. I feel two more sets of arms wrapping around us. I smile.

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[babytarttdoodoo]

The team somehow find out about what Jamie’s dad did in Amsterdam and are horrified/furious.

I’m skipping ahead to write this one because it won’t leave my brain alone. I apologise to all readers for the pain this is about to inflict.

If it makes you feel better, I am not okay after writing it.

It will also be in multiple parts since I really feel like the Reveal and the Reaction are things that need separate room to breathe.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (pending)

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

It came down to the timing, really.

Every locker room Jamie had ever been in had worked its way around to this topic sooner or later. Especially in the Academy, where the typical teenaged obsession with ‘who had done it’ reigned supreme.

Jamie had never had a problem with it. He’d shrugged or laughed or lied and no one ever called him out. He was Jamie Fucking Tartt, after all.

He’d never had to breathe a word about Amsterdam.

Telling Roy had been a spur of the moment decision, and one that hadn’t really bothered him at the time. It hadn’t fundamentally altered their friendship or made Roy tiptoe around him (thank fuck).

But his reaction - Jesus. Must have been traumatising. - had played on Jamie’s mind. So much so that when his talks with Dr Sharon had broached the subject of ‘intimacy’, he thought it was probably worth bringing up.

Yeah. That conversation had gone a bit differently.

And now, here Jamie was, two days into processing his freshly unpacked trauma and his teammates were cheerfully regaling each other with stories about losing their virginity.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

“It was my last night before flying out here.” Sam was telling the group, a sweet, bashful smile on his face.

“Didn’t know you’d had a girlfriend back home.” Isaac chimed in.

“We had already decided to break up, instead of doing the whole long-distance thing,” Sam explained. “It was a nice way to say goodbye, though.”

There was a general sound of agreement and Richard took the opportunity to launch into a questionable story about charming a runway model at the ripe age of 17.

Jamie just continued getting changed in silence, letting the voices wash over him and trying not to let the sudden nausea show on his face. Removing his jersey felt like a Herculean task when all he wanted to do was get the fuck out of here.

Sam’s experience sounded like something out of one of Ted’s rom-coms. That was good. That’s what someone as nice as Sam deserved.

What had Jamie deserved, then?

He quickly cut off that line of thought. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to think about it. Not here. Not now.

It was like trying to cover up an open wound when everyone else had a morbid impulse to poke at it.

A ripple of laughter pulled him back to the room and set his teeth on edge. He pulled a fresh shirt over his head and tried to breathe through the swelling, pulsating anger and shame that threatened to surface.

It was utter bullshit. He hadn’t thought about what had happened with anything more than vague disgust and detachment for years. A whole decade, even. Fuck Dr Sharon and Roy and all these giggling idiots for changing that.

“Oi, you’ve gone quiet, Jamie.”

A few curious eyes turned in his direction and the only thing that stopped him from shrinking away was years of playing at being untouchable.

Instead, Jamie scoffed and plastered on a smile, hiding his fists in his clothes and digging his nails as deep into his palms as they would go. “Eh, a gentleman never tells, mate.”

But he had hesitated a second too long and he saw the potential for mischief light up in a few faces. They knew him too well, he realised, the knowledge churning in his gut.

He wasn’t Jamie Fucking Tartt here. He was just Jamie.

“You are not a gentleman.” Richard stated bluntly, eyebrows raised and a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

“That is true.” Jan agreed, because of course he fucking did. “You have bragged many times about being with women.”

“What happened, amigo?” It wasn’t fucking fair that Dani sounded so genuinely interested.

“Maybe she didn’t like his pink pants.” Isaac threw in and it drew another round of laughter. The noise echoed in Jamie’s head.

He knew, he knew they were just teasing because they didn’t know better. They were being dickheads because they were always kind of dickheads to each other. It was banter. On any other day it would be fine.

His neon underwear had nearly caused a riot the week before and it had been hilarious.

Why couldn’t he just act like it was funny now?

“It’s none of your fucking business.” he finally managed, not quite keeping the harsh edge out of his tone. He turned away and pretended to be looking for something in his bag so he wouldn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes.

“C’mon, mate, can’t be more embarrassing than mine.” Colin added easily, utterly comfortable with the conversation, in spite of all the implications it had for him specifically. Jamie really fucking admired that.

He was ridiculously, fiercely envious of it.

“Guys, he doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to.” Sam admonished lightly. He was offering him a liferaft and it rankled at Jamie in all the wrong ways.

He didn’t need fucking saving. He wasn’t some soft, delicate little thing that needed Sam Obisanya of all people rushing to his rescue.

Suddenly, he was speaking without having made any conscious decision to do so.

“14.” Jamie’s voice was too loud, too sharp in this safe space that on any other day felt like home. But his fingers were clenching and unclenching, and his shoulders were coiled tight, and there was a rushing in his ears.

The vitriol pooled like acid on his tongue and Jamie couldn’t help but spew it out before it began to eat him away.

“I were 14.” He smirked and it felt wrong. It felt cruel and bitter. He rounded on Colin and relished in the flicker of unease that crossed his face. “No fucking idea how old she were but I can tell you how much my dad paid for her to fuck me straight.”

The silence should have been oppressive, he thought distantly. The way the air stilled should have made it hard to breathe. The colour leaching from not just Colin’s face, but Jan’s and Richard’s on either side, should have been concerning.

It just felt freeing, in a twisted, emptying sort of way.

“Jamie-”

“No! No, it’s alright!” Jamie turned wild eyes and a manic grin on Sam, finding it abstractly funny that the younger player took a step back. “You wanted details, right?”

He shrugged, looking around at the slack faces of his teammates. He’d moved forward, he realised, making himself the centre of attention. Typical.

“Tell you what, yeah? Next time we’re in Amsterdam, I’ll take you all on a little tour. Don’t remember her name but I’m pretty sure I could find the place again, no problem.”

And he probably could. He remembered his dad talking to some bloke smoking in a doorway while Jamie stood in the rain, confused. He remembered loud people and neon lights all around. He remembered how the place had smelled when he’d been pulled inside…

Someone else was saying his name now. He didn’t care. He just got louder.

“You wanted a show, didn’t you Thierry? We could put on a repeat performance. Play-by-play reenactment, ‘cept you’ve got to think I can do better now, right? Better with age and all that.”

Arms closed around him from behind and whatever vile shit he was about to spray out into the atmosphere died in his throat. Jamie’s entire body bucked, trying to break away.

“Fuck off!”

It didn’t sound like his voice, a screeching snarl that cracked partway through.

“Jamie.” Roy’s voice in his ear. Roy’s arms around his chest. “Jamie. Stop. Don’t make it worse.”

And what response was there to that except to laugh? Fucking hilarious, that one. Too little too fucking late.

Jamie only registered that he was being half pulled, half carried out of the locker room when the laughter started to hitch in his chest. When the air wasn’t coming like it was supposed to. When Roy manhandled him into an office chair and the tears started in earnest.

All the fight went out of him like a marionette with its strings cut and he just cried.

(TBC)

[beybaldes]

but the rain is always gonna come, if your standing with me

summer sleepover masterlist

roy kent x gn!reader

summary : “i don’t want to understand, i want you to stay.” / “don’t let me lose you too.”

content warning : roy angst because we all needed some but I promise it’s a happy ending, takes place after his knee injury but before he becomes a coach

Roy had been pushing you away, it was as simple as that. And the worst part was that everyone else saw it before you.

It wasn’t like the two of you were a couple or anything, and he’d definitely pulled away from everyone at Nelson road since his career ending knee injury, but you hadn’t expected that he’d cut contact with you. In the past 3 weeks you’d sent at least 20 text messages that continued to go unanswered, knocked on his door 3 times which he didn’t answer even though you knew he was in, and called every evening after you got home from work and left a voice message. Whatever you and Roy had was special, and it didn’t take a genius to see that his ghosting was tearing you apart.

“He just needs time.” Ted told you for the millionth time that week alone, pulling you in for a brief side hug as the two of you made it to the car park, ready to go your separate ways for the night. “He’ll come to his senses eventually.”

You didn’t want him to come around eventually, you wanted him to already have come around; to come back and be here. Which was exactly how you’d ended up cross-legged in Roy’s doorway, headphones on and jacket wrapped tightly around yourself to keep as dry as possible now that the heavens had decided to open. Roy would have to come in or out of his door sooner or later.

“How long have you been out here?” Roy was stood before you, in black sweats and with a rolled up yoga mat in his hands. You didn’t question either item, standing from your seat in his doorway, not moving too far as you were conscious of the torrential rain that continued to pour down.

“Couple of hours.”

“Well, that’s just fucking stupid.”

You’d not come to shout at Roy, that wasn’t your plan. But the snark to his words and the fact he’d ignored you for 3 weeks had amalgamated into a boiling rage. “No, you know what’s fucking stupid? You acting like I don’t exist; that’s fucking stupid.”

“I’m not having this conversation.” Roy tried to walk around you to get to his front door, but you side stepped to block his actions, crashing right into him as you did.

A push to his chest and Roy’s face paled slightly. He’d never seen you angry before, let alone like this. “Yes you fucking are, right here, right now, Kent.” You’d only ever called him Roy before, never Kent, it made him want to crawl out of his skin and become someone else - someone who didn’t push you out because he didn’t want you to see him like this. Roy knew that you’d see right through him; and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. “I get you’re going through it, and I get you don’t want anyone to see you like this, but you’re fucking stupid if you think I’m going to let you go through this alone or that I’m going to let you push me out of your life when I’ve only just got my foot in the door.”

“You ever think maybe I don’t want your foot in my door?” Roy scowled, a frown deeply etched on his face. He wanted to smack away the finger that you’d poked into his chest, not because he was angry with it, but because the simple touch had sent sparks flying. “That all those calls, texts and showing up and my fucking house were annoying?”

For a moment to your face fell, and he regretted ever opening his stupid mouth. Maybe if he wasn’t so hard headed he could’ve seen you here, chastised you for sitting out in the rain for him and then invited you in, offered you one of his jumpers and cuddled up to you while he apologised and you got warm again. But that hadn’t happened, and as soon as your face fell, it had hardened again. “I don’t care if I’m being annoying, I care that you’re not going through this alone, that you’ve got someone to look after you, make sure you’re okay.”

Roy was great at many things; playing football, coaching phoebes team on Saturday mornings, cooking a full English or making some fancy dinner you’d never heard of before. But the thing he was the best at was pushing people away. “And what makes you think I need that, huh?”

“I don’t think you even know what you need right now.” The anger in your voice had lessened, but very still very much there. It was unnerving to Roy, having someone care so fiercely about him that it drove them to anger. “So I’ll tell you; you need someone to hold your hand and pull you out of this pit of despair you’ve dug yourself in. You’re still Roy fucking Kent even with a stupid fucking knee injury and with stupid fucking grown out hair that actually makes you look super fucking sexy.”

“Career ending knee injury, incase you forgot.” Roy was just being belligerent now. You were clawing at him and the entire persona he’d created for himself, pulling it apart brick by brick and Roy was terrified. He knew he needed someone to guide him through everything he was feeling; but he hadn’t expected someone else to tell him that. He’d thought, or rather he’d hoped, he’d be able to think about it when he was alone in bed at night and never again. “And you don’t know shit about what I need. What I need is for you to understand-“

“I don’t want to understand, i want you to stay.” The entirety of the anger you’d been feeling had disappeared. “I don’t care if staying means staying at the club or becoming a coach or just letting me be a part of your life still, but please stay, Roy.” The look on your face was genuinely heartbreaking and Roy couldn’t stand himself for the fact he had put it there; he vowed to himself that he was never going to make you feel that way again. “Don’t let me lose you too.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

The anger had come back just as quick as it left you. You’d poured your heart out to Roy and all he could come up with was ‘fuck you’? You weren’t having it. “Fuck me? Fuck me? Fuck you, Roy.”

His hands cupped your face and pulled you to meet him in a kiss before either of you could say anything else. After an initial moment of stilled surprise, you passionately reciprocated, tangling your fingers into Roy’s longer hair and smirking against his lips when a tug to it elicited a groan.

“Do you really think my hair makes me look sexy?” One of his hands moved to rest against the small of your back, the other continuing to cup your cheek with his thumb running over the apple of it.

“Super fucking sexy.” You answered honestly, breathlessly and slightly confused. Ten seconds ago you’d been ready to fight him to prove that he was worthy of the love you were dying to show him, and now? Now your hands were tangled in his hair, his were wrapped around you and you felt like Roy knew you loved him without you ever having to say anything.

“I’m gonna do all of this right with you.” A whispered promise, sealed with the press of another kiss, this time to your temple. The scruff of his grown out beard scratched against your skin, in a way that was strangely comforting and entirely Roy. “Come in, I’ll get you a change of clothes and we can put a movie on, or something.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”