#I'M STILL A BIT RUSTY SO FORGIVE ME

[thefixeraa]

... starter call , @reumbra : accepting .

raindrops fall hard against the metal frame that makes up this nameless van . out in the cold climate of the city , cars pass by this unsuspecting ( yet somewhat suspicious van , ) but hey it's new york . PEOPLE TEND TO IGNORE THE DANGERS HERE . why ? because most new yorkers want to get home , or maybe they have to head to work for a graveyard shift . it is the case for the fixer , who is keeping the vehicle warm and acting as back up . nox was in the high rise mansion at about ... the eighty fifth floor penthouse ? the invitation said it was for the hosts birthday party ( the princess polly of a girlfriend is the one who organized the damn thing . all the way down to the penthouse that she was renting , and naturally ... by her renting it , IT WAS REALLY THE RICH BOYFRIEND . )

mia was talking on a different line to one of her workers , her tech support who was guiding her through the different devices she had planted earlier in the day . they were also working as one of the waiter's , BEING HER PAIR OF EYES WHERE SHE COULDN'T BE . " tell me again why i'm the one pretending to be a waiter ? " samira's voice sounds from within mia's earpiece . a calm and soft voice , though there was a undercurrent tone of annoyance . " because if it were me , my cover would get blown and petra is still in france dealing with other business . besides ... it ain't like you're alone . "

it was nice to get to work with nox again , as it has been a while and things have changed . well , at least the way the fixer works is sorta different , considering she's got a small team at her disposal now . it takes a second to switch over to the line she shared with them , " hey , so samira is still working the main room . she's going to keep an eye out , just in case things start to go south . you're free to get as close to keith as possible to find out about those plans . "

[araneitela]

Words however didn't need to be driven in any capacity to mark this point. Caelus is someone who lives within choice, where indecision stays one of his great foes. In this case however, there was never any question to be gleaned. For once golden currents fell into her violet depths, he found himself immersed as one of those broad hands reached forth in order to cup her cheek. ..Well, one word found itself fitting. "Kafka." His decision, his resolve, it's exactly what led to his thumb drawing a careful curve along the apple of her cheek, savoring this softness as he'd close the distance between them entirely. Once rendered to a moot point, he'd mesh the warmth of his lips directly against her's. Softness was forsaken for firmness, letting the raw vigor of his emotions both answer and embrace the boundless delight of kissing her. Another arm always remained attentive, carefully wrapping itself around the small of her back in order to keep her pressed flush against him.

Prompt: Unprompted. // @astrxlfinale

This one had never needed to be coaxed. No, he had drawn and wrapped himself within this web that encircled her wholly of an own accord and behest, time, and time again. And an indulgence, would prove that she would never much mind. Not in their past, present, nor their future. "Mm?" It tickled, this human oddity felt under the caress of skin to skin, and were she any other woman, perhaps her lips would tug into a smile before he'd manage to claim, she knew, what he had craved and sought. It was funny, how one's memory worked, how even separation in more than merely space, but time, too; would prove that her skin had always remembered every trace of his fingers from too long a time ago. Perhaps, there were moments such as now, where the question arose for the briefest sliver in time, as to how, but such curiosities could not survive where there was no space for them to claim as much of a whisper of existence.

Fingers of her own rested to his chin when all distance perished between them, all of it lost to the warmth of his lips, and foregone entirely to a silent symphony of shared breaths. There would be no hitch to ever trouble the sigh that came from her then, for that was simply it, she felt only relief. Their meetings had been no more than woefully inconsistent of late, and far too few, but perhaps, that was exactly what made them what they were: beautiful, as all rare things were. Destined, some might claim them to be, they were as fleeting as the stars in a galaxy that held their paths tightly lodged within its grasp, shimmering in an intensity borne of anticipation. Perhaps there, at that, he would feel the tug to her lips beneath his own— anticipation had always run so very deeply within his veins in ways so unparalleled, a reality in which she found certain delight. And so for some time, here, she'd exist within the embrace into which he'd tugged her and she knew he would again, fingers descending to the top hem of his shirt for no other purpose than that of their repose, further made evident from the subtle hook of two fingers to it. And though as she had surrendered, fervently and effortlessly, to his draw of her into him, yielding to a kiss that she, too, had craved in his absence; he would soon find himself caught in the inevitable, that which always hovered much too near, web of those games and teases of hers. Her chin would dip to sever her from him, and his lips would find the replacement of her own soon thereafter: two fingers of her other hand held ever so lightly against him. "You are greedy."

[kira-fluff]

I saw the “Sleeping with no pants on” headcanon and was wondering if you could do a pretty setter squad containing Atsumu, Kageyama and Akaashi please- ☁️

sleeping with no pants on | fem!reader x haikyuu!! [pt. 5]

a/n: i was not expecting everyone to be so obsessed with this prompt but I am LIVING for it. I love you guys so much 🩷 p.s. my lovely, atsumu is actually in pt. 1, but I'm going to switch for twinnie osamu, okay? 💕 also I'm so sorry i was gone for so long. busy busy busy working 3 jobs with college. forgive me if I'm a bit rusty. tw: sorta spicy idk

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

osamu miya "hey, 'samu, 'samu." "hm." he replied in a grunt. "'m tired." the two of you had stayed up the entire night trying out new recipes that osamu had thought of when he was supposed to be paying attention in class. so, now here you were at midnight, sprawled out on the couch, exhausted. "'n go 't sleep." "don' wanna drive home." "'n stay." you murmured an acknowledgement, then began slipping off your pants. osamu immediately sobered from his tiredness. "wait, the hell are ya doin'?!" "'m goin' to bed, obviously." "ya can't just take yer pants off with a man in the house!" you let out a little scoff, "oh, get over it." but osamu's mind was already racing. he tried to act cool on the outside, but you were just in your fucking panties and acting like it was no big deal? why were you always so clueless around him??? did you really not see him as romantic material??? osamu couldn't help but stare at the round shape of your ass even as your long shirt covered you. he had scarcely time to begin devouring the sight of your legs when you cleared your throat. "are you.....staring... at me?" he cleared his throat and looked away. "...s-sorry.." you leaned in close, just below his ear. "ya know... if you really wanted it that badly, you could've said something.." you smirked, taking a blanket and covering up your lower half with a conceited smirk, walking away. "h-hey wait! the fuck did ya mean by that?!" he trailed behind eagerly. the rest of the night? well... "just friends" was no longer in either of your vocabulary anymore.

kageyama tobio you friends, after all, nothing more. and you didn't want to make it weird. weirder than it already felt having hidden feelings for your best friend. it getting late after a particularly long study session which involved you trying to drill basic math facts into a brain that only understood volleyball. it was a hopeless endeavor, but you took him getting anything above a "50" as a win. so, you continued to attempt to help him improve his grades. you supposed "attempt" wasn't necessarily the right word, as his scores were generally improving, but sometimes you found yourself wondering if there was really a point to it all after you spent the whole lesson trying to help him relearn everything he misunderstood in the lesson from that day. so here you were, exhausted, with your head down on your table at home, tobio sitting across from you. "hey, kageyama, let's just call it a night." he paused for a moment, then spoke. "....do you want to sleep with me?" if you had any liquid in your mouth, you're certain you would've had a comical spit take. "ah, um, WHAT?" you sputtered, trying to make sense out of what he said. he didn't mean it that way, did he? no, of course not. "it's... late." yep. just offering a place to stay. "it is. but there are still trains. i can take a late one." "just get in my bed." your eyebrows raised. "hey, tobio, a normal person would misunderstand what you just said..." he ignored you. "just sleep with me." your face took on a reddish hue the more times he said it... and he just didn't get it? why was he messing with your heart like this!?!? "um... there are different ways to say that. like... 'want to spend the night?'" "then, spend the night." "why are you being so pushy?" "because i like you." as a friend. yeah. we've been over this. "ok, ok, you've convinced me with the power of friendship. but I'm sleeping on the couch." "no." "yes." "no. my bed has enough room." "not for me!!" you laughed nervously. does this guy even have hormones? like, what the fuck? "....I'm going to go shower. I'll see you in my bedroom." does this guy not understand the meaning of no? still, you found yourself begrudgingly trudging over to his bed, especially after you saw his couch was made with the comfort of a burlap sack. I mean, if he offered, might as well take advantage right? what could go wrong? spoiler: everything goes wrong. you thought he was fast asleep. so, in the stealth of 1000 ninjas, you slid off your sweatpants for the sake of comfort. it wasn't weird, right? oh well. you were tired and damn did he like his room hot. you jumped when you felt him arms wrap around you. then, he stiffened. "...are you not wearing any pants?" "um... maybe..." he sighed. "are you trying to seduce me?" "n-no it's just more comfortable!" he turned you around so you were facing him. "well, whatever you're trying to do, it's working. I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep." "wait, is it because I'm making you uncomfortable?" he went silent for a moment. ".... you could say that." "I'll... just put them back on then. sorry. it's just that your room is really hot and-" "can I kiss you?" you blinked in disbelief. "can you what?" "kiss you" he answered without a beat. you spluttered some more as he slowly leaned it, asking for permission, silently this time. you nodded and closed your eyes. sparks flew as his lips moved against your own and you finally understood what he'd meant when he said "I like you". kageyama tobio was head over heels in love with you, and you hadn't a clue. until now. the two of you broke apart. "...can we... do that again?" he asked brazenly. you leaned forward again in reply.

akaashi keiji akaashi would rather die than confess to you the things he woke up at night fantasizing about. you'd likely be especially mortified if you discovered that one of your most embarrassing mishaps was on a frequent replay in akaashi's brain when he fell asleep. he was supposed to be a gentleman, not some gross pervert that looked at one of his best friends like... that. but since it was all in his dreams, it was impossible to "turn off" no matter how many times he tried to think about something else before he went to sleep. and so, let's recall The Incident shall we? he had come to your house late at night and knocked at the door, fully expecting to see you up and awake as it was the early evening. to his surprise, however, you answered the door groggily, eyes still bleary from exhaustion and sleep. the way you looked would be forever ingrained in his mind. you were blinking back the remnants of sleep, wearing one of his shirts. it hung low on you, but not low enough to cover your supple legs and the white panties that peeked out below the hem line of his shirt. you hadn't noticed yet, either. "... what d' ya need...?" you asked tiredly, rubbing your eye. akaashi swallowed harshly, his brain turned into complete mush. "uhh.. uhh...." goddamnit, MOVE YOUR EYES BACK UP TO HER FACE. were her legs always that long? STOP. when he still hadn't answered, you followed his gaze down to your lower half. he still remembers the succession of events as follows: you blushed, stammered, and then slammed the door in his face. you didn't talk to him for a week. after, you finally awkwardly explained that you sleep without your pants on and that you didn't realize you hadn't put anything on when you answered the door because you were so tired. it sucked that you ignored him. and even that you explained yourself. because all it did was bring those... memories... right back to the forefront of his mind. whenever he saw you in the hall and you'd flush and look away, he was immediately brought back to the sight of your bare legs. when you stumbled through your explanation, his mind reeled back to those white panties. and he hated it. what kind of friend looks at their friend that way? but he knew in his heart that what he was feeling for you was beyond sexual attraction when, in his dreams, you smiled at him. and told him you loved him. and so, what if he dreamt a little longer? hopefully you'd forgive him. and maybe someday he could tell you how you made him feel...

[tallglasstea]

Media N Basketball Part 1

Synopsis: The WNBA’s new Social Media Manager, Amara, heads to Seattle to help improve the Seattle Storms media pages. She has had a big crush on Gabby Williams but avoids her due to rumors that Gabby is dating Marine Johannes.

Please note: This takes place during the 2025 season and this is my first fic in yearsss. Forgive me if I am a bit rusty.

Thursday July 11, 2025

Third P.O.V

It’s almost the halfway point of the 2025 WNBA season and Amara couldn’t be more excited. She has officially been at the W for 9 months and has been having the time of her life. Still getting the hang of things, but overall she loves her coworkers and just the overall environment. Witnessing the 2025 draft and seeing all the college stars getting drafted and to just know that she was really a part of the big moment will always be a core memory for her.

Being based in NYC meant that she helped the Liberty, Sun, and Mystics a lot with their social media pages because she was so close. Providing a new and fresh outlook on their pages, the team's pages have grown exponentially. The Liberty has grown to 1.2 million on Tiktok and 2 Million on Instagram. The Sun to  600K on Tiktok and 400K on Instagram. The Mystics to 724K on Tiktok and 527K on Instagram. Teams immediately took notice of the newfound fanbases and the rest enlisted to have Amara flown out to help their teams.

Amara’s first stop would be Seattle Storm with her favorite (and closest) coworker Destiny. Despite having Jewell, Nneka and Nika, the Storm could not seem to grow their fan bases on social media. Amara couldn’t help but feel nervous as her personal celebrity crush was also on the Seattle Storm this season.

Amara’s P.O.V 

“Gworllll are you excited to go to Seattle?!?” Destiny nudged Amara’s shoulder while they were settling on the plane to take off. “Your favorite girl is going to be there.”

“Pleaseeee stop. This is work, we need to stay professional.” I tried to keep my resolve but I couldn’t help to smile when thinking about my little crush. “Plus I heard that she is dating Marine Johannes so that dream is dead anyways.” Maybe if I said it enough then my little crush would fade away. ‘But she looked soo fine during the 2024 Olympics,’ I thought to myself.  

“Mmchttt” Destiny rolled her eyes and rolled over to close her eyes. I was tired too and we had a long flight ahead of us, so I might as well get some rest. 

Friday July 12, 2025

Destiny and I are headed to the Storm’s new practice facility, and my anxiety is through the roof. Not very demure nor mindful of me huh? I love working for the W but it’s still very nerve wracking having to meet new people and new teams. Especially women as tall and beautiful as them. I’m not short but I’m not exactly tall either, standing at a cool 5’6. I was so into my thoughts I didn’t even realize that destiny was talking to me until she started snapping in my face. 

“Yoooooo is there anyone there? Bitch are you on autopilot?!” Destiny continuously snapping in my face. I mush her with my free hand. “Don’t snap at me! Anywhore what were you saying?” I asked. “What type of content are we starting with? Since we are almost there, I want to prepare,” she replied. Looking at the GPS, I realize that she is absolutely right. 2 minutes away. What if I crash this car right now? I'm kidding, I'm kidding (sort of, not really). I’m thinking what would be the best video to start showcasing their personalities. “I think we should do the rapid fire questions for each of the players. We should probably feel them out and kind of gauge what they are comfortable with answering and they aren’t,” I stated after a few beats. “ I call dibs on Nneka, Nika, Victoria, Mercedes, Joyner and Sami.” I wanted to make sure that I didn’t really have to interact with Gabby, my stalkerish ass could just admire her from a distance. Destiny looked at me bewildered as we pulled in front of the facility. “You evil bitch, I can’t believe you called dibs,” she laughed as we got out of the car. 

The walk from the car ride to the main practice gym was short but felt like it took forever.

We had unloaded our equipment and were waiting outside the gym for the General managers and coaches. We, mainly I, didn’t want to just bust in on their practice while Destiny wanted to do exactly that. Once we introduced ourselves to the GMs and coaches, we told them our game plan for content. I took a deep breath, as the doors to the gym opened. Here goes nothing…..

To be continued….

Sooo what did we think? I know I’m rusty so don’t eat me up toooooooo bad. I was trying to make it short but I figured it would be better as a multi-part fic. Please let me know what y’all think! Since there was nothing not even hcs on Gabby I figured I would start some of my own.

If y’all like my writing style, I would like to open myself up to WNBA requests along with other womens sports.

Welp see ya soon bookies!

[igetnosleep]

The Night We Met

Second attempt at angst might try again with the next one. I'm glad you all liked "Finally home" I guess you people were rabid for something soft..makes me feel like I hold power here lmao. Also this is connected to "Finally Home" and "Comfort" since those kind of inspired me to write this...Strangers to Lovers cause I like that shit.

So canon typical violence (it's RE so not surprising) and happy reading!

You didn’t like Leon.

Maybe it was the situation or the fact that you couldn’t bear to separate yourself from him after you managed to escape Raccoon City but you didn’t want to stay away from him.

You’d so happen to meet the stupid blonde when you nearly bludgeoned him with a rusty pipe in the darkened halls of the police station. Too many fucking rooms too many of the undead trying to crawl through the windows, not enough sleep in your system to get through the night that seemed never ending.

All of this happening in the span of a day or two.

You’d seen your friend die in front of you by one of those..things. Now here you were with a man you’d just met who was supposed to be a cop.

“Come on, aren't you a cop?!” You hissed hearing the groans and shuffling through the halls as he held your hand like he was trying to guide you. You’d be kicking and screaming if it didn’t mean certain death. Leon only shrugged, looking to the side almost nervously under your scrutinizing gaze, “It’s my first day.” 

You blinked, staring at him, “The fuck did you just say?” you whispered a bit too quietly, too calmly for his liking. Leon didn’t need to turn around to see your face; he could feel your piercing gaze against his temple, almost debating if you should take him out with you.

“I said-”

“I know what you just said.” 

“Then why did you-” 

“Leon, I'm going to hit you if you don’t shut up.”

He promptly kept his mouth shut until you deemed it okay.

Leon didn’t have survival instincts like you’d expect him to. Always eager to help, always sticking to the rules, you’d even tried to reason with him but he wasn’t swayed, if it weren’t for the fact that you were in the middle of the apocalypse, you’d admire him, but you’d almost hit him before you jumped at the sight of the man on the other side of the jail cell turn into a bloody pulp by the..whatever it was as it walked away.

You never considered yourself kind, some of the things you did while finding a place to hide out would be considered heartless. You accepted that you’d never get into heaven, your tongue having spewed more blasphemy in your life time that you were sure that Saint Peter would smile kindly before pushing you down into the lake of fire before disinfecting his hands and going back to his post.

Leon believed in an afterlife. He liked to believe that his parents were somewhere better, somewhere kinder than the life that they were given. Something more peaceful than the death they had lived.

“You speak from experience?” You asked him, earning an expression you could only read as shame from him, you could picture the dog ears pressed against his head. The way he looked like he wanted to cry maybe it was him missing home, you didn’t blame him, you wanted to go home too. You sighed not imagining that this was how you’d spend the apocalypse squeezing the hand of a rookie cop in an attempt to tell him that it would be okay?

The halls of the police station and the foreboding dread in your gut, Leon was a good distraction from the constant stream of fear. You’d squeezed his hand and tried to imagine something better than whatever was trying to kill you at the moment.

You didn’t like Leon, you found him cute, like a puppy it was hard not to look at him and forgive him right away. His face was soft, eyes wide and hopeful. All he had to do was look at you a certain way and you wanted to pet him. You obviously wouldn’t because hello you just met the guy. He felt soft too, healthy and still had his baby fat.

He reminded you of a golden retriever, maybe even a labrador. Dogs were nice to think about. Now imagining him with dog ears made you smile a bit. A small bit of peace one he gave you while he was flattered by the attention you gave him he never admitted it though. With cheeks tinted red “That would be embarrassing.” the rookie cop thought to himself.

Leon liked you. Maybe more than he could admit at the moment. Maybe because he latched onto you faster than a baby chick would to the first thing it saw. He liked the way you latched onto him recalling the way Marvin side-eyed him reminding him to keep his head on a swivel. “Just because you found someone doesn’t mean you can have your head in the clouds, understand?” a quick “Yes, sir.” from him and he pulled you along with him.

Was that the selfish thing to do?

Drag a civilian along with him?

You were pretty, yes, he would never deny it, the way you did things the hard way because it was the only thing you could think of at the moment. But it did make him smile when he bothered you about it.

You looked cute when you pouted, cheeks tinted red in embarrassment. “Shut up. It was the only thing I could think of.” you whined as he laughed. 

Why’d he have to look like a ray of sunshine? Why’d he have to make you feel..happy?

You didn’t like Leon.

You didn’t.

You don’t.

“What did you do before this?” he asked curiously while you were stuck in one of the rooms waiting for the undead to pass by, his voice cutting you out of your thoughts. You looked up from the ground humming in thought.

“Tax fraud.” 

“Seriously?”

“No, you big goof. I was a barista, worked in a coffee shop, over…somewhere.” 

He noted the way your hand waved dismissively down the street from the police station right he noticed it from the fence. He fumbled around with his gun for a moment pretending to check the magazine while he pondered, maybe if he’d been here just a week early. 

Maybe he would have met you, how would you look when you smiled or laughed at a joke. 

He pushed the magazine back into place, shaking himself out of his thoughts. A weight settling on his shoulder had him tense, turning and looking over at you seeing you lean on his shoulder. Leon relaxed a small smile playing on his lips as he admired you. 

You leaned on him, your body relaxing just a moment as he offered his shoulder, he was thoughtful, you liked that about him. His hand came up to your back and gently rubbed circles between your shoulders. “You’re doing great.” he hummed, leaning his forehead against yours, you could only glare weakly as he was using those stupid puppy eyes on you. You poked the soft pudge hiding under the bulletproof vest. “Shut up.”

A small bit of silence left you two relaxed momentarily forgetting about the shuffling and the random thumps and bumps against the door.

Ada was someone you didn’t trust, she spoke to the point but in circles, never willing to give you a straight answer. In all honesty, if it were any other day if it didn’t feel like the world was ending, you’d be fawning over her like some sort of moron.

For fucks sake she was wearing heels during a zombie outbreak you internally felt yourself putting her on a pedestal practically forgetting about survival and choosing to trust this woman who looked like she was coming out of a fashion catalog.

Noticing your staring Ada, snapped her fingers at you and you stood in attention feeling your face burn in embarrassment. Great, now you look stupid in front of the pretty lady.

Leon didn’t hide his admiration for her, you couldn’t blame him, she had an air of confidence, independence, a person who you wanted to be with but couldn’t attain.

She was mildly amused by your poor attempts at flirting “You’d have better luck telling Leon those jokes of yours.” She hummed as you helped bandage her leg. You only looked confused “What do you mean?” “Come on, you're practically clinging to him giving him those eyes,” She gestured vaguely to your face, you’d still stared at her confused, she rolled her eyes staring at you in disbelief “You’re telling me you don’t like him?” You snort hearing it echo through the sewer “No.” she didn’t seem amused with you.

The train leading away from the city was melancholic and frankly bittersweet, you made it. Somehow you survived just when you were about to leave a note or something for someone to find on your corpse. Leon looked somewhat satisfied relaxing as he just leaned on your shoulder as the train went on towards an unknown location.

His hand gripped yours, fingers interlacing, a nap sounded perfect at the moment. His body was screaming for rest and you felt like a small piece of heaven. Your thumb swiped over his knuckles. “Go on. I’ll wake you up when we stop, okay?” He couldn’t say no to that.

The woman, Claire, stared at you from the corner of her eye. A clear need of an explanation was visibly wanting to pry you for an explanation.

“We met in the police station.” She deflated sitting down on the ground next to…Sherry? Her name was? Yeah she introduced herself to you almost enthusiastically in her tired state, fell asleep like a rock to the insistence of you and Claire. “Sorry we arrived in the city together and we got separated. I thought something happened to him.” She admitted their relationship, acquaintances, “Something almost happened, I almost hit him with a pipe.” Claire felt bad that she laughed at that.

The train stopped a few hours later and once you all reached civilization it was time to go your separate ways. Claire was looking for someone and whatever happened down in Umbrella she looked determined to investigate it. 

You understood why but after everything, you just wanted to suppress the memories and go on with your life and you agreed to take in Sherry. Claire looked like she felt bad but you waved her off, “I’ve got like five cousins her age. She’ll be fine.” you assured the redhead as she hugged you, she didn’t look like she was the maternal type anyway, she was younger from what you gathered about her talking about her brother. 

She should be able to find him without worrying about the safety of someone else.

A brief glance around your shoulder saw Leon looking exhausted, the mental fortitude he had to not break down crying was worrisome. You couldn’t blame him. You felt the same, what do you do in that situation now that you had to look after someone, you couldn’t cry or scream. No, Sherry wouldn’t react well to a breakdown. 

You offered your hand to the little girl and she hesitantly accepted as Leon led the way with a hand on your back as you managed to find a military base ahead.

Looking back, a part of him wished he had been more vigilant, maybe he could have protected you and Sherry. Instead you were both dragged off somewhere with blindfolds over your eyes. He fought against the men screaming at them to bring both of you back only to get a whack to the back of his head and he was out like a light. 

Leon woke up after the men had separated from both of you. Heart pounding his breathing erratic as a man in front of him commended him for making it out of Raccoon City alive. “Rookie with a hell of a first day.” wearing a crooked smile that made his stomach turn. 

Where were you? Were you okay? Did they hurt you?

They made him an offer. An ultimatum. They didn’t really give him much of a choice.

You had been sitting alone clutching Sherry close afraid of the men surrounding you, hands close to their weapons and their eyes wandering staring trying to get a read on you. Your leg bounced the heel of your shoe clicking against the ground, you were sweating bullets, heart beating rapidly. 

You tried to calm down. Nothing was working.

When you saw Leon again after what felt like hours you practically ran up and hugged him, his arms wrapping around you squeezing you so close you almost missed the way he was shaking. His face buried in your neck fingers curling around your shirt wrinkling the already ruined fabric. He only pulled away to kiss your shoulder whispering apologies into your skin. “I’m sorry.” 

It was like you blinked and he was gone, gone to whatever new hell they’d introduce him to. The government relocated you and Sherry, not together I’m afraid. 

You tried to live life like normal but nothing got rid of the nightmares. Dates ran away from your screaming like roaches to sudden exposure to light. New forms of comfort taken from scalding hot showers and wrapping yourself in blankets galore. You nabbed a pitbull from some dumpster. It didn’t seem to matter.

A part of you wanted Leon back. Someone who understood you, someone who'd give you a shoulder to cry on at the moment. You were ashamed to admit that you needed him so bad. It was only one night. One fucking night he didn’t sleep with you. Not like that anyway. Why did you feel so strongly for that dumb blond?

You didn’t like Leon.

You didn’t.

You didn’t.

Six years later you saw Leon again.

Standing at your door looking different from the rookie cop you met that night.

A frozen look of shock on your face as you stared at him.

Your mouth felt dry, your blood went cold.

Oh fuck.

You liked Leon.

[deanscherrypie420]

𝓔𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵

A/N: Hi everyone! This is just a short idea I've had in my mind... I might rewrite later. I know it's been awhile, forgive me if I'm rusty 😭

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N

Pairing : Y/N X Dean Winchester

A/N: This was literally all inspired by that one part of Chihiro by Billie Eilish, where it's super high pitched (Makes me feel magical)

Warnings: Blood! Violence! Angsty! Fluff at the end!

----------------‐---‐—-------------------

Her mind was clear, the sunlight dancing on her skin. As she twirled and spun throughout the grass, she hummed a relaxing melody.

The scenery was beautiful. A large pond circled by a small field, all engulfed by the rich forest. The ripe shades of green, the sound of nothing but an empty mind... It was all perfect.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, two hunters were closing in on her. They knew they were looking for a witch, they just didn't expect someone so... mystical?

"Don't do it, it could kill her." Sam whispered to his brother. Dean wasn't listening as well as he could have been, all of his attention drawn to her. He sighed and shook his head.

"She'll be fine."

Suddenly, she stumbled forward, a seering pain in her abdomen. All of the sound was gone as she stared at the blood seeping from her belly.

It all unfolded in slow motion, getting shot and then tackled to the ground, a blade digging into her neck. Her ears were still ringing, but she could hear the faint sound of yelling.

"Awh, sweetheart, don't look so surprised. You knew this was comin'." The man on top of her hissed. Her eyes were wide, shock evident in her features.

The taller man stood behind him, staring down at you with guilt. Her attention was pulled back to Dean as he pushed the blade deeper into her skin, tearing the surface and leaving a line of crimson.

The sun seemed to burn brighter as he barked at her, demanding answers to questions she couldn't answer. "Don't be shy, doll. We need answers and we need them now!"

She bit her tongue, tears welling in her eyes. Dean just scoffed and adjusted the blade in his hand. "You did this to yourself."

He cut down her arm, a deep, deep slice all the way down her forearm, reaching her palm. She screamed, and the energy in the forest shifted.

Birds flew from their trees and animals scattered away.

Her hand latched onto his, squeezing it hard enough for the blade to cut into his hand. "What the hell?" He spat.

"Dean, run!" Sam shouted as he pulled his brother off of the girl.

In near seconds she was on her feet, the knife now in her hand. She approached the taller man, grabbing him by the collar and pressing her forehead to his. He collapsed without another word.

Dean grunted on the ground, struggling to get up. "What did you do to him, bitch!" He yelled, but she wasn't finished.

She twirled the blade in her fingers as she turned back for the other Winchester. When she met him, she sunk the blade into his shoulder.

Now, she was on top of him. Only now did he realize her eyes were a glowing white.

"What do you want from me?" She seethed, her face meere inches away from his. "Get off me, you bitch!" He retaliated.

She twisted the handle of the knife, sending sharp pains throughout Dean's body. "We just wanted to know if you're the crazy lady handing out wishes!" He spat, and she froze.

Her eyes flickered, returning back to their normal Y/E/C. "What about my wishes?" She whispered back, an uneasy expression weary on her face.

"They're killing people, lady! Don't you get how sick that is!" He hollered, finally gaining the strength to shove her off.

She didn't move, sitting absently on the grass. He looked down at her, anger bubbling within him. "Whats the matter, huh?"

"Thats not what I wanted." She murmured. When her eyes met his, they were glossy and sad. His jaw ticked and he gave in.

"Wake up Sammy and we'll sort it out."

---------------------------

They were sitting on rocks that surrounded the pond. The silence that surrounded them was suffocating, like a pressure that kept squeezing her.

Turns out, demons don't like magic very much. Every wish she granted was one life taken. She thought she was doing good, helping people get what they needed... only to find out some asshole demon was ruining it.

Each person whose wish came true ended up getting killed - and tortured - by a demon.

She sat with her knees to her chest, picking at the fabric of her pants. Sam cleared his throat and gave a lopsided smile.

"It's not like you could've known. It's not your fault that this happened." He tried, but she just shook her head and got up, wiping tears from her eyes.

"The last wish I granted was to a little girl. We have to find her, we have to make sure she's safe."

The brothers nodded and she followed them back to the Impala. The car ride was pretty quiet, only the turned down radio in the background.

Dean couldn't help but stare at her. He even adjusted his mirror so he could get a better view.

She was just trying to help people, he thought. She didn't deserve this. He could tell that she was a kind person, the type of person he would usually tease, but circumstances were different.

He felt nothing short of horrible.

When they arrived at the girls house, it was dark. The pair snuck her inside so she could reverse the spell. She stood over the girls bed with tears spilling from her eyes.

"One day your wish will come true. I'm sorry it's not today." She whispered, placing her fingers against the girls heart.

---------------

Dean insisted she stay at their motel, as it might not be safe for her. Sam was out on a food run, leaving the two of them alone.

"It's not fair.." She mumbled, sitting at the edge of his bed. He turned to her and raised a brow. "You'll get used to it, demons are nasty sons of bitches."

She just looked up at him and frowned.

He thought his heart melted.

She had such beautiful eyes, and her skin seemed to glow. He took a moment to really process her and all of her glory. She really just wanted to do the right thing, help people.

She was right. It wasn't fair.

He walked over and held out his hands, giving them a gentle shake so she knew to grab them. She did, and he brought her to her feet.

"What are you doing..?" She huffed, and he smiled, wrapping her in a hug. "You look like you could use one."

She let out a strained laugh, nestling her face into his chest. "Thank you, Dean."

He pressed a kiss into her hair, soaking up the moment.

It wasn't often that you found genuinely pure souls in his line of work. Everyone had a motive, some sort of agenda to work behind, but her? Not one in sight.

Just a heart of gold, a beautiful mind, and an even prettier smile. He exhaled and held her tighter.

He liked this one, and he hoped to keep her.

---------------

A/N: Sorry it's so short and sad 😭 I didn't even know it would take that turn 😭🤣 Let me know if you want a more romantic part two! I hope you all enjoyed it <3

Feel free to like, reblog and follow!! <333

[withonly-sweetheart]

Only Love Can Break Your Heart

You've had enough of not being your own person. You aren't a division of him, your husband, nor the women he sleeps with when he's bored of you.

a/n: if you haven't read the book by katherine webber GO READ IT NOW ITS SO GOOD I CANT EVEN WITH YOU !! this is inspired by that except married couple divorce not really uh yeah i needed to get those out of my system to work on requests!

tw: angst, no happy ending, mentions of smut, non explicit nsfw, mentions of drinking problems, alcohol, stuff yada yada

wc: 1.7k

When you called him from the city, you knew even despite his grumbling of the long drive, he would still make it. Still take his rusty old car all the way out here, just for you, to plead for your forgiveness. Without meaning to, you’d memorized every part of him.

That’s how you knew he’d changed.

The man sitting next to you, hands gripping the steering wheel tight, jaw set in parallel to the tight lines around his lips, pain coursing through the burnished planes of his cheekbones, setting flame to the skin you once longed to touch.

As you watch him drive, the silence between you feels heavy with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. You can feel the distance growing, like a vast chasm separating the two of you. His eyes, once the most gentle shade of the sea, now seem distant and guarded.

“Stop looking at me,” he grits out from behind his teeth.

“I’m not,” you say softly, gaze fixing on his hands.

“I can feel it.”

“Do you feel guilty yet?”

The edge of his lip curls. “No, because I don’t know why the fuck you’re mad at me!”

But he knows he’s lying.

He knows exactly what he did.

<><><><>

You thought it would be just another casual Sunday afternoon, popcorn punctuating the muffled TV in the other room. You kicked off your slippers, lounged carelessly on the couch, waited for Leon to come home.

But he’s three hours late, three thousand ticks of the clock away from when you expected him, and when he stumbles through the door, the only way you can tell he’s drunk is the slight lean he has, wobbling to the left as he slumps into your arms.

Your foot taps a rapid pace on the wooden floor, arms crossed, uninviting. You’ve been awaiting a drinking problem, you know his past, but you weren’t expecting it so soon.

First come the tears. Your husband is a dramatic man, and although you’ve waved off an occasional drink or two, the heartfelt apologies whispered between your thighs, he’s wasted enough to let those walls come crashing down, tumbling all around you, leaving only the remnants of the sea pooling in your sweatshirt.

Then, after he’s wiped his eyes and gained enough courage to look at you, come the profuse apologies that slip past his lips, wind down your shoulders and prod your chest, seeking forgiveness from your heart. So accustomed to the quiet, obedient life you had both been living, you don’t give it easily.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to, I swear. I just couldn’t stop thinking that maybe it was you, and maybe our life is a bit boring, and maybe you do the same things sometimes and don’t tell me, and she said it was all okay-”

“She?” you interrupt, voice far too gentle. “Who’s she?”

"She... she was just a distraction," he stammers, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I didn't mean for it to happen, I swear. It was stupid, I know, please, don't leave me. I love you, I'm so sorry."

His words echo hollowly in the empty space, each syllable a dagger twisting in your bloody chest. Tears trace paths down your cheeks, rivers of sorrow as you look up at him, bleary eyed, trying to comprehend why he would ruin everything.

"I trusted you," you whisper, your voice barely above a broken sob. "I thought we had something real, something worth fighting for. How could you do this to us?"

His silence is deafening, a stark contrast to the cacophony of emotions that swim through your legs, rendering them useless. You feel lightheaded, dizzy, and some small part of you wants to blame yourself.

It must be your fault, the voice taunts, pleads, even. You were just too boring for him. You can change, can’t you?

You find yourself standing on the precipice of what could change your life, a rocky cliff, toes poking out against the edge. What would your life be without him?

"Please, it won't happen again," he pleads, his voice cracking. "I swear, I'll do whatever it takes to make this right. I love you more than anything, and I can't bear the thought of losing you."

A part of you longs to believe him, to cling to the hope that this nightmare could be just a momentary lapse in judgment, a cruel twist of fate. His fingers are creeping around your waist, snagging you like a fish on a hook.

In a way, you assume, you are as gullible as that.

With a heavy heart and a trembling voice, you whisper, "Okay, I trust you." The words taste bitter on your tongue, a bitter pill swallowed in the idea that you’re only trying to salvage what’s left.

But deep down, a seed of doubt blooms into a thorny vine that wraps itself around your wounded heart. Can trust truly be rebuilt from the ashes of his thin apologies, or are you simply setting yourself up for more heartache down the road?

You shake your head as he disappears into the bathroom and the sound of running water covers up your soft sniffles. There’s a determined, confident, trustful smile on your face that only seems slightly forced.

Leon’s a good man.

It won’t happen again. 

<><><><>

But it happens again, and again, until all you come home to is the draft blowing in through the vent and a cluttered house. You suppose you should be grateful you’ve never had children. It’s happened so many times.

And every time, you forgive him like a bitch in heat, like a teenage girl so desperate for him, for your fake image of love, even when you know he’s toying with you. Did he ever care? You fool yourself into believing that when he pushes you into the wrinkled, old cotton sheets, or when he buys you those fragrances you eye whenever he takes you out to shop.

You’ve forgotten the meaning of love, what it means to be cared for, how it feels to be cherished. In his eyes, those beautiful, sullen eyes, you are nothing but another responsibility, another burden, another chore.

You want it to stop. You want to stop feeling this way. So you turn the tables on him, that night, when the door creaks open and his footfalls echo through the house, it's empty.

There’s a note left on the table from you, signed in that sweet, loopy handwriting you thought he admired. Leon… blah blah blah, visiting friends, need some time to myself… all just empty thoughts from a mind that knows nothing but pain.

The letter ends up in the bin that day just before he calls one of the numbers saved in his phone. It lies there, forgotten, as the sounds of muted kisses seem to crinkle it even more.

<><><><>

You watch them in the taxi, through the camera you had set up in the houseplant that you knew Leon never bothered to look at. Is that all you are to him? A drooping aloe vera, lost all its nutrition and sun, useless?

They make out wildly, planting kisses everywhere, and you realize that maybe he never loved you to begin with. Maybe this was all just a joke to him. You can see the tray of cookies you made last Christmas, when everything seemed fine.

He had pushed you onto the island, crowding between your legs, grinning up at you. “You know I hate all that sugary shit,” he had whispered, nosing the area between your neck and jaw.

“Should’ve replaced it with salt, then,” you mumble to yourself, biting your lip to suppress the sob that claws at your throat. You exit the app, then delete it. 

You’re never going back.

Leon’s not a very good man.

<><><><>

Your nights are restless, tossing and turning, when your friend groans and flicks on the lamp, expression immediately softening at your pained eyes.

She gathers you in her arms, lets you cry into her, soaking up your agony. You’re glad she doesn’t chastise you, tell you how she had seen this coming ages ago. Maybe you should start listening to your friends when they warn you about men.

He tries to reach out to you, to bridge the gap that has formed between you both, but each time you pull away, walls impenetrable with your friend standing guard behind them. The ache in your chest grows with each passing moment, a constant reminder of what once was and what can never be again.

You start taking classes again. He had stopped you, deemed it was ‘unladylike’ to be studying. You had agreed with him like a fool, stupidly nodding your head to whatever came from his mouth.

Your friend is there through everything. You only wish you had told her how much you appreciated her help when you call Leon, ready to pry him from your thoughts.

<><><><>

You finally reach your destination, the weight of the unspoken goodbye hanging heavy in the air. You know that this is the end, that the love you once shared has turned to ashes. 

“We could’ve made it work,” he argues, once again, running a hand through his darkening hair. Everything about him seems somber now, more depressed. You suspect that the alcohol has finally caught up to him.

And faintly, with pride, you realize that you don’t care.

“You and I both know that’s a lie,” you seethe. “We were never going to work, because I will always be too boring for you. Just a toy, right? I’m done with your shit!”

You don’t let him get the last word. That would nag you far too much. So you walk away from him, from the image of you that clung to him every waking moment, your back a silent farewell.

If he had broken up with you, what, a week ago, you would be left alone with the shattered pieces of your heart, knowing that you might always be missing a piece of yourself.

But now…

Now?

You are whole.

[factual-fantasy]

Greetings Factual! Sorry it's been a bit since I last got to say hi, it's been a crazy week for me- but I still managed to check in every once in a while, and as is always the case, really enjoyed your recent posts- both the fun and the angsty! In particular, I really liked the Fnaf anniversary image you did, it was really cool seeing the classic crew in your style- and thanks for remembering Golden Freddy!

That actually brought up an Ask I had, too, which is: is Golden Freddy cannon to your main Fnaf AU? You made the Fredbear and Spring Bonnie side au, but did a version ever exist before the core crew in the original timeline? If so, he probably wouldn't be haunted, like the others arent, but, as an older model would he even be sentient? Maybe it's too spoilery, but I figured it couldn't hurt to ask!

As a sidenote, I also come bearing a gift today! Last time, you'll recall, I asked if you wanted to see some of the old Mario OC's I came up with, and you said yes! So here's what I got now that I've redrawn and refurbished them- forgive my poor art and camerawork- i had to work with what limited time and supplies I had- anyway, without further adu, here's the dynamic desert dwelling duo, Rick and Rusty!

My idea for their story is that, as you can see, Rusty is an old, outdated model of Sherm, like the ones from Odyssey, and his partner is an almost equally as old, rough and tough Monty Mole named Rick who's lost most of his vision with age. I'm still figuring out the way they met- but at some point they both got stranded in the deserts of the Sand Kingdom , and ended up deciding to team up, becoming a wandering duo of tradesmen, transporting goods from one settlement to another- after all, Ricks gotta eat, and Rusty's always in need of spare parts due to his advanced age.

Sometimes times are tough for the two of them, but they soldier on though even the toughest sandstorms- and have formed a very important symbiotic bond, as Rusty gives Rick some much appreciated protection(he is a tank after all) as well as verbal direction when necessary, and in turn, Rick uses his impressive skills as a mechanic to repair and replace Rusty's parts, both on the outside and inside! I also imagine that Rusty would double as a living, mobile home for Rick, with some of those good ol' bigger in the inside shenanigans going on! I also had an idea for two additional characters who would eventually join the traveling band- those being Dott the Flopter and Brock the Bandit!

Still working on their stories too, but I envisioned Dott as a happy go lucky explorer who came up from the Sprixie kingdom to explore the surface world- only to surface in the sand kingdom and get caught in a sandstorm! Thankfully Rick and Rusty were passing by and provided shelter, after which she volunteered to join them on their adventures for the foreseeable future- Rick finds her outgoing personality a bit obnoxious at times- but Rusty's taken a real liking to her- plus, it never hurts to have eyes in the sky!

As for Brock, I imagined his arc would be similar to Diego's from Ice Age, funnily enough- he started as a double agent who sought to lure the crew into a trap so his gang mates could rob them, but he ended up liking them so much he switched sides, beat his old team at their own game, and joined the traveling Merchants officially as their muscle! His mask lets him weather even the most severe sandstorms, and he can use his hockey stick to wack projectiles at foes even faster than Rusty can fire a- uh- whatever those things Sherms shoot are called!

Anyway that's all I got for now, sorry as always for the wall of text- I was just eager to see what you think! With you being a professional AU and OC crafter, (especially compared to me) I would greatly appreciate any thoughts or criticisms you can offer! Thank you so much as always- and I hope this day is treating you well!

Hi! Its good to see you in my ask box again! :D I'm sorry to hear about your week though, I hope this next one treats you better <:(

As for the FNAF 10th anniversary post, I'm really glad you liked it! :D And how could I forget Golden Freddy?? He's been one of my top favorite animatronics for a very long time XD Speaking of him, he does exist in my main FNAF AU technically :0 although "Golden Freddy" in my AU is actually just the old Fredbear suit after it was decommissioned- though obviously I cant talk much about if it was haunted or sentient at all <XD spoiler stuff-

And lastly, your OCS! AND MY GOODNESS DO I LOVE THEM!!! :DD And as a ✨professional AU/OC crafter✨(XDD thank you!! :}} ) I tried to give you some criticism like you asked. But I'm having a hard time coming up with anything solid! <:0 I love their stories and I think their designs are great!

Originally some criticism I thought of was that Rusty looked a liiittle overly detailed.. there was an awful lot of bolts on the guy. But upon googling Sherms, they look like that in the game! Absolutely flooded with bolts! :0 So your design is actually accurate and very well done! Same thing with his color, thought maybe he could use a little more color but nope! In game the Sherms are just a block of green XD You actually gave him MORE color with the two different shades of brown! A very good choice in my opinion! :))

The only lasting criticism I could think of was more of a question; how can Rick repair Rusty if he's lost most of his eye sight..? Sure Rusty might be able to verbally guide him from the outside somewhat.. but what about internal repair? Thinking about it though, he could just be near sighted- or maybe his eye sight isn't as bad as I'm imaging it is? Either way- loved the critters! Loved the stories, the art is fantastic and I hope the rest of our day/night is a good one! :))

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Superstar (Superstar Chapter 1)

I'm no one special, just another wide-eyed girl

Who's desperately in love with you

Give me a photograph to hang on my wall, superstar

The Reader is thrilled to start a new job at AFC Richmond- especially since it means working with a certain player-turned-coach.

Roy Kent x Reader

2.7k words

Warnings: language (because Roy Kent); I’m a bit rusty so forgive my writing!

A/N: Been having some horribly bad writer’s block in addition to work stress. Thankfully my man Roy Kent helped me finally break through!!!

~

“Well, there she is!” Coach Ted Lasso waved enthusiastically as I parked my car in the staff lot. Next to him stood Rebecca Welton, who offered the tiniest of waves and something of an apologetic smile.

I took a deep breath, my hand hovering over the driver’s side door. First day on the new job: coach’s assistant. Between three coaches, there was a lot going on; they needed someone to handle communication, schedules, and small tasks so they could focus on training and (hopefully) winning. Having grown up just around the corner from Nelson Road, it felt almost like an honor to be part of the organization.

In a blur, Ted had firmly shaken my hand for what felt like an eternity, yammered off about a dozen Lasso-isms that I wasn’t quite sure I heard correctly, and ushered me into the building, all with Rebecca following along, interjecting short corrections and reassurances every time Ted paused to take a breath.

“And this here’s the locker room,” Ted announced with a small flourish. “Now, the boys tend to be pretty modest, the only one you may see too much of is Jamie, but if you just throw a towel in his face, he’ll take the hint.” He opened the door, gesturing for me to follow.

Rebecca touched my arm gently, that tight smile still on her face. “I should be going. But please, let me know if there’s anything you need. You’re in great hands,” she added, nodding towards Ted. “Welcome to Richmond.” With another touch to my arm, she was gone.

I followed Ted into the changing room. A few guys were milling about, still in their street clothes, chattering and beginning to put their things away. They looked up when I entered, offering small nods of acknowledgement. Ted rattled off their names, all familiar to me. I made mental notes about how each one smiled and shook my hand, trying to take snapshots in my brain so I could describe every moment to my family later that night.

After meeting all the players that Ted called “early birds”, I followed Ted into the coaches’ offices, where I was quickly introduced to Coach Beard, who nodded from behind a tattered copy of Either/Or.

“Now, Coach Beard and I share this office,” Ted was explaining. “You’ll be right through here. Hope ya don’t mind sharing!” He led me through the side door to another office. “I’m sure you know this ray of sunshine here is Roy Kent.”

My stomach jumped to my throat as the man in black track pants and a dark Richmond shirt glanced up from his desk. As if I really needed to be introduced to the man whose poster still hung above the bed in my childhood bedroom. Several kits sporting his name and number hung in my closet. Hell, for one birthday my jokester dad even got me a cardboard cutout of the man. It currently sat folded in the back of a closet in my flat, but it often made an appearance in my living room when I hosted game day parties with my mates.

I was pretty sure if I dug far enough in my parents’ attic, I’d find my school notebooks with “Mrs. Roy Kent” scribbled all over them.

And now he sat in front of me, staring up at me through thick eyelashes that made me go weak in the knees. A half scowl appeared on his face. “You’re the assistant then?” He offered his hand.

I nodded, praying that neither coach could see my body trembling slightly as I reached out to shake Roy Kent’s hand. “I- I am.”

Ohmygod ohmygod I’m shaking Roy Kent’s hand I’m touching Roy Kent Roy Kent spoke to me Roy Kent is looking at me ohmygod ohmygod.

It felt far too soon when he let go of my hand. “Well, as long as you keep your shit off my desk and don’t wear any rancid perfume, we should be fucking fine.” He nodded behind him toward an empty desk. “That’s you.” Without another word, he stood up, grabbed the notebook he had been drawing in, and left.

Ted beamed at me. “Well now, that went great! That’s about as charming as you can expect Roy to be, so count yourself lucky. Now, why don’t you get yourself settled and we’ll see you in the locker room in about ten minutes?”

~

“D’you like kebabs?”

I turned my head, pausing my fingers above my keyboard. “Excuse me?”

With a giant sigh, Roy swiveled around in his chair, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Kebabs. D’you like ’em?”

“Uh, I guess.” I scrunched my nose as I stared at him. After two weeks of working for Richmond, this was the first time Roy had spoken to me so directly. Up until now, it had been mostly grunts and growls in my general direction. But, after years of watching him on the pitch, I knew by the look in his eye that he didn’t hate me- at least, not any more than he hated the rest of the world. And that was fine enough with me.

“You guess?” There was that scowl. “You either fuckin’ like ‘em or you don’t.”

It took all my strength to suppress my grin. God, he was just as gorgeous as when I used to watch him play on the television. “Fine, fine. I like kebabs.”

With a suddenness that almost made me jump in my seat, Roy stood up. “Okay.” Without another word, he walked out of our office.

About twenty minutes later, a Styrofoam container slammed onto my desk. I looked up at Roy, who towered over me, a plastic bag clutched in his fist. He glowered at me.

“Thanks, Roy,” I managed, opening the box. Sure enough, kebabs. I smiled up at him, but his eyes were scanning my desk.

“That your family?” He pointed at a frame that held a photo my family had taken during a camping trip.

“Oh, yeah. My folks and brothers. They live not far from here. We grew up huge Richmond fans.”

His eyes continued to roam my work area. “What, no pictures of your boyfriend? Is he fuckin’ ugly or somethin’?”

My cheeks heated up. “No boyfriend.” Somewhere inside me, boldness surged forward. “What about you? I don’t see your model of the week on your desk.”

He smirked. Ohmygod he smirked. “I’m too fucking old for that shit now.”

“Uh huh.” I couldn’t make myself say anything else. All I could see was that smirk, and those brown eyes. Until I realized he was waiting for me to say something. Speak, you idiot! “I like kebabs,” I blurted. Shit.

The smirk softened slightly. “So I heard.”

For a moment he just stood there, smiling down at me. Then he cleared his throat, glancing at the bag in his hand. “Don’t tell anyone I got you lunch. They’ll be trying to make me some fuckin’ errand boy if they find out.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

With a small hmmf, Roy nodded and headed back to his desk. I smiled down at the container on my desk and returned to my work, ignoring my burning cheeks.

~

“What does Jamie Tartt smell like?”

“Is the gaffer really like that in person?”

“Did you pass out when you met Roy Kent?”

Swallowing the bite of pasta I had been chewing on, I grinned at my family. “Tartt wears a homemade combo of Tom Ford, Dior, and Juicy Couture that he calls ‘Tartt by Tartt’. Coach Lasso is exactly what he seems. And Roy Kent…”  I cleared my throat and prayed my face wasn’t completely red. “He’s fine.” My voice cracked slightly. “We, uh share an office. He got me kebabs for lunch last week.”

“Come off it,” I scoffed. “Or else I’ll take back those VIP tickets I got you for your birthday.”

“Ooh, Roy Kent bought you kebabs?” my dad hummed, grinning at me pointedly. “My future son-in-law, the football superstar.”

Before my dad could retort, the doorbell rang. I jumped up, relieved to have a distraction.

“I’ve got it!” I just about sprinted down the hall to the front door, confident it was our elderly neighbor asking to borrow the spare key, as she did at least once a week. Instead, when I threw the door open, I found Roy Kent on my parents’ front porch.

“We should really put a fucking tracking device on you,” he grumbled as he moved past me into the entryway.

I stared at him, closing the door. “Um, not to be rude, but why are you here? At my mum and dad’s house?”

He shoved a manila envelope into my hands. “Some papers Lasso wanted you to work on if you can this weekend. Said it was important. I dunno, I don’t fucking listen to him when he yammers.”

“Oh.” I placed the envelope on a nearby table and folded my arms. “And how-how did you know where I was?”

Roy wiggled his phone in the air. “You’re one of those idiots that has their Snapchat locations on. You’re gonna get fucking murdered one of these days y’know.”

Right. Ted had made us all join multiple Snapchat groups with him; he was adamant about keeping our streaks.

I couldn’t help but grin. “And you’re gonna murder me?”

“Not today.” A small smirk cracked through that grizzled face. “But apparently if I wanted to, you’d be easy as hell to find.”

“I’ll just have to keep being a good officemate then,” I supposed teasingly. Am I flirting with Roy Kent?!

“You’re doing a fine job so far.” Roy took a step towards me, looking down at me.

Is he flirting back?!

My brain short-circuited. “Um, well I…” I coughed, looking around the entryway, as if I hadn’t walked through it my entire life. “Thanks for uh, bringing those papers.” A question interrupted the high-pitched buzzing in my brain. “Why’d you bring it by the way?”

Roy cleared his throat and took a step back, allowing a respectful space between us again. “Told you, Lasso said it’s important.”

“Yeah…” I started slowly. “But I’m sure it’s something you guys could’ve sent Will to do. Or something Ted would probably love to do, tracking me down to my dad’s birthday dinner. Why are you-?”

“He’s here! He’s there! He’s every-fucking-where! Roy Kent!” Beaming, my dad burst past me and clapped a hand on Roy’s shoulder as Roy stared at him with wide eyes. “Oh hell, Roy Kent’s in my foyer!” He turned and faced me. “I can’t believe you got Roy Kent to come down here! You’re my favorite kid, you can tell your bloody brothers that anytime.” He grabbed Roy’s hand and started pumping it, reminding me of the first time I had met Ted. “It’s an honor to have you here. Absolute honor.”

I finally found my voice. “Dad, Roy’s just here giving me some stuff for work. He’s not here for your-”

“What kind of cake do you have?” Roy’s gruff voice interrupted.

“Chocolate,” my dad answered. “M’wife made it herself. And we have plenty of pasta if you’re hungry.”

Roy unzipped his jacket. “Then happy fucking birthday. Let’s eat.”

~

A half hour later, I was still in a state of shock. Roy Kent was sitting next to me in my parents’ dining room, chatting with my dad and eating my mum’s pasta. He took all everyone’s questions in stride, not seeming to mind how obsessed my brothers were. He only growled at them twice- once when they asked about his knee, and again when they said how much they like Jamie Tartt. Of course, they made kissy faces whenever Roy wasn’t looking, and my mum kept raising her eyebrows at me with a twinkle in her eye, but the dinner was much less painful that I had expected.

And getting to sit there with Roy’s arm pressed against mine? A dream come true.

My dad cleared his throat as my brothers began clearing the plates. “I think it’s time for presents and cake then?”

I stood up; my arm felt cold after having Roy’s arm keeping it warm. “I’ll be right back, gotta go get your present.” I pressed a kiss on my dad’s head as I passed by. “Don’t embarrass me,” I hissed, giving his shoulder a squeeze. He offered me an assuring wink.

I quickly went up the stairs to my old bedroom, not completely closing the door behind me. Since I was planning to spend all weekend a their house, I had just haphazardly thrown all my things into the room when I had arrived after work. I regretted it now, noting that my idiot brothers could be saying anything to Roy while I searched for the envelope holding my dad’s birthday card and the tickets to Richmond’s next match.

I groaned. “Where the hell-”

“Ah, this isn’t the fucking loo.”

I whirled around. Roy stood in my doorway, eyebrows slightly raised as he glanced around the room. My cheeks burned as I watched him take in all the Richmond posters, which disproportionately featured his bearded face.

He is never going to talk to me again, a panicky voice in my head whimpered.

To my surprise, a small smirk formed on his face as he quietly closed the door behind him. “Why the fuck are there so many pictures of me in this room?” he asked, a chuckle escaping his lips.

I cleared my throat and stood up, straightening out my top as I cursed my teenage self for being so obsessed. “I, uh, I told you. My family’s huge Richmond fans. You’re kind of our favorite player. Hence, my dad’s excitement when he saw you.” I winced. Lame, lame, lame.

“So…” He stuck his hands in his pockets, still looking around the room at the embarrassing number of photos of himself. “Does that mean I’m your favorite too?”

Somehow, my cheeks grew warmer. “I… I mean… I guess.”

His eyes moved upward and widened slightly.

Fuck.

“Is that a fucking poster of me above your bed?”

I shifted my weight, wishing that somehow the carpet beneath me would spontaneously turn into a black hole. “Oh, you know, gotta keep the monsters away somehow.” You’re fired. You are so freaking fired for being a creepy fangirl.

Roy let out a bark of a laugh. “That’s what I’m good for? Scaring away fucking monsters?”

With a groan, I covered my face and collapsed on my bed. “Please don’t tell anyone,” I grumbled. “This was my room when I used to live here, I was a dumb kid. I swear to God, my flat is normal. A normal adult flat.”

The bed squeaked as I felt someone sit beside me. When I peeked out between my fingers, Roy was looking at me with a hint of concern on his face.

“Hey, no need to be fucking embarrassed.” He glanced up at the poster that now laid directly above us. “Can’t say I blame you. I was young and hot.”

Despite my inner anguish, I moved my hands and grinned. “You’re not that much older now, Kent,” I teased.

He raised his eyebrows at me. “I’m still hot then?”

Before I could come up with some clever retort, Roy cupped my face and leaned close. “Please say yes,” he said softly.

I gulped, knowing he could definitely feel it. “Yes,” I whispered.

He gently pressed his lips against mine, a soft, small kiss that made me melt closer to him. His beard tickled my face as his hand stroked my cheek. Roy Kent is kissing me Roy Kent is kissing me Roy Kent is kissing me.

When Roy let go, a tiny giggle escaped my lips. He smiled at me- a real smile, the one I had seen maybe a small handful of times on television over the years. He opened his mouth to say something-

“Oi!” A loud knock banged on the door. “Mum and Dad want to know if you’re snogging Roy Kent in there!”

Roy grinned at me, still holding my face. “Don’t suppose I can tell your brother to fuck off?”

I wrinkled my nose. “’d rather you didn’t,” I whispered.

“Well then.” Roy stood up, stretching out his hand to help me to my feet. “Guess we should go have some fucking cake.” He nodded up towards the poster above my bed. “You should bring that thing to work sometime. I can fucking autograph it if you want.”

[alienoresimagines]

Hi, 🤗 If you take the clegan prompt and it inspires you, what about SCREAM or CAREFUL? (depending of your whump mood 😉)

[ SCREAM ]: sender spots the receiver in a terrified or considerably panicked state, and picks them up to carry them to a less terrifying place to calm down.

[ CAREFUL ]: sender gently lifts the receiver out of their seat and carries them carefully to bed after noticing they fell asleep and not wanting to waken them.

Sooo I may have gone a little overboard with this but it was so much fun, thank you !!❤️ I went with the second one but I'm keeping [SCREAM] in a corner of my doc ;) Here you have 2520 words of fluff and a tiny bit of angst though I apologize if the writing is a bit rusty, I haven't written anything since ... *checks AO3* 2022 so it's been awhile 😅 I hope you'll like it ❤️

And thank you to @triggerlil for beta reading this 🥰😘

Find my other Mota fics here

Title is from Drag Me Under by Sleep Token (amazing Clegan fanvid with it here )

Drag Me Under | Buck x Bucky (also on AO3)

Buck’s always been quiet by nature, he doesn’t particularly like being the center of attention. When he smiles wide, he ducks his head and puts a hand in front of his mouth to hide and prevent anyone from noticing him. It’s rare to get a full-body laugh from him and damn near impossible if you’re not Bucky. So, it figures he’d be a quiet sleeper too. If Bucky’s attention wasn’t always somehow on Gale and every little thing he does, he doubts he’d have noticed the other man had fallen asleep. As it is, Bucky is mesmerized, the radio and the baseball game all but forgotten. A bomb could go off and he doesn’t think it would be enough for him to tear his gaze away. 

Buck’s leaning on the armrest, not quite slumping down but not sitting as straight as he would awake, his eyes closed and pink lips slightly parted to let out soft exhales. His eyelashes fan over delicate cheekbones, mirroring his usually carefully styled hair that falls over his forehead in soft strands, no longer abiding by the products Buck had slicked them back with in the morning. Bucky aches to touch, to card his fingers through the golden locks and feel again how soft they are. To feel Buck’s warmth on his fingertips as he gently traces them over his cheeks. He looks young, Bucky thinks, which isn’t quite right. He looks his age, a fact that Bucky often forgets because he’s never thought of Buck as anything but his equal. Yet in the dim light of the table lamp painting his skin a soft gold, shadows rounding the edges of a jawline still too sharp after months of not enough food, book forgotten on his lap, Buck looks unbearably young, and Bucky is overwhelmed with the need to care, to protect. 

It’s not like Buck can’t do that for himself. Bucky knows firsthand how capable Buck is, and has experienced multiple times the warmth curling in his chest and the burst of pride taking over his being at seeing just how competent Buck is. But there is a special trust in Buck allowing himself to let his guard down in such a vulnerable manner around him. A silent “I know you won’t hurt me” that Bucky still can’t bring himself to feel deserved. It only makes him want to curl around Buck and hold him tight to his chest, show him that his trust won’t be misplaced again, that Bucky will never let himself fall as low as he did once. He will never forgive himself for hurting his Buck as he did in the Stalag, even if the man himself had forgiven immediately, had insisted that “there’s nothing to forgive Bucky, it’s just this place”. In a way, he was right. Any plane of existence witnessing Bucky being intentionally cruel and hurting Buck had to be Satan’s personal hell. It certainly was Bucky’s.

He’ll never forget the way Brady tensed whenever he was close or the way Benny scooted closer to Buck when he approached. At first, he’d thought they were scared of him and while the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to try and snap out of it. Only after his fight with Gale, when Benny placed himself between him and Buck for their meager dinner while looking him straight in his eyes, his jaw clenched and anger pouring out of him in waves did John realize that they thought they needed to protect Buck from him. Flak could have pierced the cockpit while he was on the left seat, pinning him to the metal while steel pierced his heart till he was choking on his own blood, and Bucky knew it would have hurt less than that realization. Buck had never made any indication that he was scared of him but Bucky had hit him. The mere thought of it, the feel of his rib cracking under his boot had Bucky nauseous whenever his thoughts strayed back to it. Hurting Buck felt like betraying his own heart. That had been a terrifying awakening and when the bloodcurdling shame had turned into steel determination, he’d promised himself: never again. He will never be the reason Buck hurts or feels unsafe. 

And here they were now, Buck feeling safe enough to fall asleep just an arm’s distance away. Bucky’s no stranger to duty, but this one, this promise, feels like the most important one in his life. Perhaps that’s what his mother had meant when she had said, long before he enlisted, in their little kitchen, as Bucky stood at a crossroads not knowing what he wanted to do with his life, that every person was put on this Earth for a purpose and that he’d find his soon. 

Suddenly overwhelmed with the need to make sure that this is real, that he did get home to Buck and Buck to him, he rises from his armchair, turning off the radio as he does, and crouches down in front of Buck, letting his eyes roam all over the prettiest face he’s ever seen. The parted pink lips with a cupid’s bow that always made Bucky want to capture those lips with his own to feel how soft they were, the constellations of freckles and beauty marks on his cheeks and lightly dusting his nose that he often traces with his fingers until Buck complains that the touch tickles but still leaning into it, the fading scars on his cheeks that Bucky always kisses in the morning when he wakes up and in the evening when they go to bed.

Yet, despite his vow and his best wishes bordering on despair, he knows there are some things he can’t protect Buck from, the evidence of this painted in lilac under the younger’s eyes. Bucky wishes he could erase the bruises with a caress of his fingers and tender kisses, that he could place himself as a dam sturdy enough that nightmares could only crash against him without ever reaching the shore of Buck’s dreams. It hurts to know he can only hold Buck close to his chest and whisper sweet nothings in his ear to bring the love of his life out of the water and back to him, anchoring him with gentle caresses and mindless humming until memories of war and horrors recede like waves back to the sea. His gaze lingers on the traces of fatigue on Buck’s face, made all the more apparent by the lack of frown between his brows, the relaxed tilt of his mouth for once not pulled in a serious line. 

Experimentally, Bucky slowly takes the book from Buck’s hands, letting them fall on the man’s lap. He doesn’t stir as Bucky carefully places the bookmark where Buck presumably stopped reading before placing it on the coffee table, near the lamp. Had Buck been able to sleep for more than three hours a night for the past week, he would’ve woken at the movement and blinked sleepily at Bucky before bashfully apologizing, ducking his head just so as he did. His sweet, darling Buck, now exhausted by memories that wouldn’t leave him alone. Bucky’s heart twists painfully in his chest and he’s helpless but to reach out and touch, gently stroking the golden locks off his forehead before cupping his cheek. Instinctively, Buck leans into the touch of his palm until his head rests entirely against the cradle of Bucky’s hand, trusting him even at his most vulnerable, even when he’s not conscious of it. John’s so in love that he doesn’t think he’d need a B-17 for him to soar through the skies. He’s never held anything so precious in his life. How strange, to know his heart fits so perfectly into the curve of his palm.

Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat and blinking back the wetness in his eyes, Bucky sighs softly before weighing his options. Waking up Buck is clearly out of the question, because if there are some things Bucky can’t protect the other man from, sheltering one of his rare peaceful rest is the least he can do. He could wedge a pillow between the armrest and Buck’s head, cover him with a blanket and let him sleep but the other would still wake up with a stiff back. They’d both slept in worse conditions during the war, but echoes of a past confession swirl in Bucky’s mind until they form the image of a little Gale, not even Buck yet, let alone One-Engine Cleven, sleeping and shivering outside a pony track. He doesn’t have to think about it for long before deciding to find a way to get Buck in bed without waking him up. For as long as Bucky lives, Gale Cleven will never have to sleep anywhere but in a warm and comfortable bed, where he’ll feel safe and free to burrow into the covers and stretch in the lazy morning while curling up closer to Bucky. 

Admittedly, there aren’t many options to get Buck in bed that don’t require him to be awake. He could gently shake him awake and hope Buck won’t wake entirely, just enough to walk somewhat on his own while Bucky guides him, but there”s always the risk that he won’t be able to fall back asleep after that. So, Bucky won’t wake him. The only way is to carry Buck to their bed and, while Bucky is confident he can, he doesn’t want Buck to wake in the middle of their trip and panic. Bucky strokes his thumb back and forth on the other’s cheekbone and watches as Buck imperceptibly nuzzles his palm, his face completely relaxed. Trusting. John has always been a betting man and he’ll be damned if one day he doesn’t bet on them. BuckandBucky. Pursing his lips, he nods once as he comes to a decision, edging slightly closer to the couch as he wiggles an arm beneath bony knees and the other around Buck’s shoulders.

“Alright, doll, wheels up.”

It doesn’t take as much effort as Bucky would have liked to scoop Buck in his arms, pausing when he stirred lightly once as he maneuvered the other’s arm on his stomach so it wouldn’t hang awkwardly off his frame and a second time to make sure his head was resting comfortably on Bucky’s shoulder. Even though it’s been months since the Stalag, Buck still hasn’t gotten back all the weight he lost and while he is nowhere near as skinny as he was in February, he’s still too light. It makes Bucky’s guts go tight with worry and he tightens his grip with the arm he has under Buck’s knees and the one around his back, pressing a kiss to the golden crown. They’ll have pancakes for breakfast tomorrow.

Hair the color of wheat tickles his neck and chin as he moves carefully up the stairs and Buck’s warm exhales fan over his chest. Through his worry, Bucky can feel warmth spreading through his entire being at such a demonstration of trust and vulnerability. He knows he’s broader than most, and his build has often been a source of pride, especially in his teens while he was still trying to find himself among others. And though Buck is no small man either, only two inches shorter than Bucky, he’s always been on the leaner side. No less powerful than him, but all grace and lean muscles. In the Stalag, Bucky had despaired and cursed at the difference as he watched Buck wither away faster than others, his shoulder blades like two broken wings piercing through his shirt that hung off his frame. Now, he feels a sense of gratefulness that perhaps, his slightly broader form helps Buck feel protected and safe. 

Even though Buck’s lighter than he should be, Bucky’s arms and backs scream in protest at the prolonged exertion but he grits his teeth against the ache and opens their bedroom door with his elbow. The moon hasn’t risen yet, the sky a pinkish color through the window illuminating the room with a soft glow. Carefully, Bucky deposits Buck on the bed, first his legs then his upper body, one hand cradling the back of his head as he lowers him to the pillow. Buck sleeps on, lips slightly parted, and Bucky can’t resist swiping a few errand strands off his forehead before placing a feather-light kiss there. Stretching back up, he considers changing Buck into comfier clothes as he knows the man will purse his lips in disgust at the wrinkles that are sure to be in his current clothes in the morning but Bucky’s own limbs are calling out for him to rest. He’ll just kiss Buck’s pout in the morning, he figures with a grin. Still, he knows Buck hates sleeping without a blanket on, even in the sweltering heat of summer, so he untucks the covers from their army-regulated folds and manages to cover Buck with them, effectively tucking him in. Hovering over him, hand braced near his head on the pillow, Bucky’s once again struck by how beautiful the other is. With his blond hair forming a halo on the white pillow, he really does look like an angel. Bucky’s angel. His gaze drifts to the long blond eyelashes fanning over delicate cheekbones, and his lips tingle with the need to see again how they’d feel against them. Slowly, he lowers himself to press barely there kisses to the skin under Buck’s eyes, feels the soft brush of eyelashes and the warmth of his skin against his lips. It’s only been an hour at most but Bucky already misses the blue of his eyes. John huffs a laugh at the thought. He really is gone for this man, isn’t he ?

Then, Buck shifts in his sleep and Bucky freezes, afraid he’d woken him up with his affections. But the other only turns on his side, one hand going under his pillow while the other latches on to Bucky’s as it rests against the pillow, and brings it closer to his face, sighing contentedly as he does so. Bucky’s heart starts hammering in his chest as waves of fondness pour out of him. He is filled with so much love for the man under him he’s surprised he hasn’t exploded yet, but he supposes it is because his love bleeds through everything he does, every word he speaks. This, he thinks, this is why I fought. For this love, I’d do it all over again. As long as I get to love him like this, I’ll never not come home.

Careful not to dislodge his hand from Buck’s gentle hold, he slides under the covers behind him, chest to back, tangling their legs together, and nuzzles his hair before pressing a kiss to the top of his spine.

“You and me, Buck.”

Buck, still asleep, instantly presses closer until they are closer to one than to two like they’ve always been and always were meant to be.

BuckandBucky.

[pandorasprongs]

CHAPTER FIVE | this is what it feels like.

'it's nice to have a friend' masterlist + playlist | previous chapter

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.0k

SUMMARY: reader is starting to forgive jamie, even going to a charity gala together.

WARNINGS: language, mentions of what happened in amsterdam

A/N: yay! welcome back to me, i guess HAHAHA sorry for going ia for how many months, life just got in the way and i wasn’t able to make time for writing. i’m a bit rusty at this, but this is an extra long chapter and is mostly fluffy (at least, imo), so i hope you guys enjoyed it! we’re down to the last two (maybe three?) chapters of our story, which i hope you all will like :) see you then and thank you again for waiting!

Your relationship with Jamie did start getting better. Slowly, but surely. It wasn't the same as the past few months, though. That repair of your relationship was built on denial and was bound to come crashing down like it did. 

You were still talking, but he wasn't coming over every weekend anymore. He was the one who suggested it too, so you wouldn't feel pressured to decide if you forgive him just yet. He wasn't pushing for an immediate answer either and he was making that clear with how he was acting.

He sometimes sends you a message just to check in and your replies were short, but not apathetic. You'd do the same too, usually after his matches, specifically when it ended on a loss, since most of them were as of recent. What was it, seven matches at this point?

The loss at the Man City game was especially painful, but after you saw the article about Zava's retirement, you had hoped that some part of Jamie was relieved about it all.

Your suspicions are confirmed when you hear Jamie knocking at your door. You open it and instantly get blinded by the light. "Fucking hell."

"Shit, sorry," Jamie exclaims, shutting off his headlamp. Once the light is gone, you finally get a clearer look at the footballer. He was in a grey hoodie which was starting to get all sweaty, and was currently jogging in place. "Went out for a workout with Roy before dinner, and we went pretty far. He already went home though."

You knew where Jamie lived and if he had run that entire length, you don't know how he's not passed out at your doorstep. "Congrats, I think. Why'd you pass by?"

"I wanted to see you," he answered, a little out of breath. You'd be lying if you said your heart didn't skip at that. "If that's not weird."

"No, it's not," you answered quickly, a smile creeping on your face. "D'you wanna come in? I made some pasta if you haven't eaten yet." You offer without thinking but don't retract it in any way. Things like these would help you bond again right? And after seeing Jamie give you a genuine smile and a soft look with his eyes, your worries instantly dissipate.

So now you're having dinner with Jamie and barely any words are spoken, until he mentions, "I'm going to Amsterdam in a couple of weeks. We're having a friendly against Ajax."

"Amsterdam?" Maybe you should've hidden the worry in your voice better.

As far as you know, Jamie had a complicated relationship with that place. You don't know what happened, never wanting to press for too many details, but the first time he went there with his dad, your best friend came home a shell of himself.

—

You headed over there the moment your mom told you he was back and while you half-expected Georgie to turn you away in case his dad was still there, what you ended up seeing was worse. You found Jamie lying down in his bed, just staring at his ceiling. When you called out to him, he made no move to acknowledge that he had heard you.

You were fourteen and uncomfortable with emotions, but you knew you needed to do something for him. You made multiple attempts to try and get a verbal response from Jamie, but it fell on deaf ears.

It was only when you asked if you could lie down next to him did he finally move. He turned to face the wall and his back towards you, but you didn't say anything about it. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him.

"If you don't want to talk about what happened, it's okay," you whispered. "I'll just stay here with you."

In one swift move, Jamie turned around and pulled you into a hug. It was almost instinct that you pulled him closer.

You don't really know how long you stayed like that, but it was long enough that you started to get sleepy and eventually drifted off. The next morning, you woke up in an empty bed. Your grogginess quickly turned into confusion.

It would've turned into panic soon if Jamie hadn't walked back into the room as he dried his hair with his towel.

"Oh, you're awake," He said softly. From his voice alone, you wouldn't have been able to tell that he spent that night crying, if not for the bags under his eyes betraying him. The swelling had gone down from the cold water, but the redness was still there.

You don't say anything at first, unsure of how to proceed. But Jamie breaks the tension by asking, "Do you wanna have breakfast before you go back? Smelled mum's cooking from the hallway.”

"Okay." Jamie pulls you up from the bed but doesn't let go of your hand as you head down the stairs. He squeezed it tightly as you walked into the kitchen, his own way of saying thank you.

—

That's how the two of you always were. Talking about your feelings was never a strong suit, but that didn't mean you weren't there for one another. It's how you dealt with hard times as kids, but maybe it was time to ditch that as adults. Or at the least, work on expressing yourselves better.

As if Jamie could read your mind, he gives you a reassuring look, "I don't really think about that trip anymore. Don't really remember much of it either. I just remember the second time. When we were 16 right?"

"Oh yeah," You chuckle at the reminder. Jamie's mom had planned a trip for the two of them to Amsterdam and your parents just happened to also be figuring our your own summer holiday plans. 

The five of you spent a week there going on tours, visiting museums, and all the usual tourist activities. One of the pictures you still had of you and Jamie was one your dad took when you visited some tulip fields. Jamie had his arm around your waist and both of you were holding stroopwafels, impatiently waiting to eat them. 

A group of old ladies passed by as the photo was being taken and thought you were a young couple, which both of you were quick to deny. Things were only awkward for about twenty minutes till Jamie started chasing after your stroopwafel because he had already finished his.

"That was pretty fun, wasn't it?"

"Mhm," Jamie says as he continues to eat. "I still remember all the facts you made me memorize. Might try and annoy Roy with them."

The two of you continued to talk that night and for the first time since that night in Nelson Road, being with Jamie didn't put a pit in your stomach. There was no longer a nagging voice in your head reminding you of the past or the rising feeling of resentment when he'd joke about the past few years. Instead, you were just content and happy to be there with him.

When you finished your meals, you suddenly got a waft of Jamie and almost gagged. "Oh my God, you definitely need to shower."

Jamie pulled his hoodie up to his nose and cringed. "Right. I guess I should head home now."

"No. I am not letting you out into the streets of London smelling like that. You can shower here," you offer and without giving Jamie a chance to respond, you start walking over to the bathroom.

Jamie lagged behind a bit but caught up as you pulled an extra towel from the cabinet. "You can go to the guest room for spare clothes. Dad leaves a bunch of them here when they come over. Oh, and slippers too if you want to give your feet a rest." The footballer gratefully takes the towel and heads into the bathroom. 

When you hear the water start, you move to walk back to the living room when you pass by your bookshelf once again, the empty spaces between your books glaring at you. You head into your room and open your closet to pull out the pictures. You pick up the one from Amsterdam, from your graduation, and from your 10th birthday, and scatter them around the shelf.

You go get ready for bed and change into your pajamas before going back to the living room to wait for Jamie. After 30 minutes — or an episode and a half, — you hear him call out your name.

You find Jamie in the hallway in one of your dad's giant grey shirts and sweatpants. When you approach, he finally asks, "Have these always been here?"

He points towards the frames and you realize that despite the number of times Jamie's been in your flat, he's never looked at the top of your bookshelf.

"I put them there pretty recently." You admit before turning towards the footballer. 

Jamie catches your eyes and seems to be debating whether to say something. He finally speaks up, "So I take it you've..." but he trails off, leaving you to finish it.

"I forgive you. Well, I think I’m starting to," you start. "I guess these past few months, I've been compartmentalizing my anger towards you and that wasn't fair. I know neither of us is particularly good at expressing our feelings, but we should've talked about this back when we saw each other again. That's my fault, I admit and I'm sorry. But I'm happy now, spending time with you and I don't have this sinking feeling that it'll all go to shit anymore. So yeah, I think I forgive you, Jamie."

You give him a wide smile and before you know it, Jamie wraps his arms around you tightly. Your smile only grows wider as you pull him closer. 

This is what you've missed all these years. Being so comfortable and safe with Jamie, that him randomly hugging you doesn't take you by surprise anymore. You're content and happy. And you have Jamie, your Jamie, back.

He breaks apart from you and the two of you walk back to the living room, the sitcom still playing on the TV. You expected him to make his exit by now, but seeing as you've just made up, Jamie felt confident enough to stick around a bit longer. He takes a seat across from you on the couch. Maybe it was because he was fresh out of the shower and no longer wearing sticky clothes, but he felt freer than ever.

Jamie glanced down at his phone at notifications from the team group chat and suddenly remembered another reason why he passed by your apartment. "Are you doing anything Friday?"

The last time Jamie asked you that, it ended with one of the worst outbursts you've ever let out, but you tried not to be reminded of that. Besides, you trusted that he'd keep his word; he wouldn't break your heart once again.

"Not really. My lectures are all in the morning that day. Why?"

"There's this charity ball that my boss does every year and I was looking for a plus one," Jamie explained slowly, before turning to you to see your reaction. "If you want. You know, as friends."

You don't know what stunned you more: the way your heart swelled when Jamie asked you to go with him to an event or the sinking feeling that appeared when he added the 'as friends' part. All this tension and ghosting these past few weeks made you forget all about those pesky, jittery feelings that you still had for him, but now that the dust had settled, they were coming back.

You try to ignore it, just for this moment, and prepare to answer him. But the more you thought about this "charity gala," the more you realized what you were about to agree to.

"Wait, is this the thing where people bid on football players for dates?" You remember seeing an article on it a few years back where three women got into a bidding war for Jamie. "Fucking hell, if you're just doing this to stage another bidding war for you, then—"

"No! 'Course not! You kept saying before how you want a reason to dress up!" Jamie's quick to defend himself and you fall back into your seat. "Plus, I can't have Richard setting me up on yet another disastrous date, I just can't." 

You say nothing, absorbing his plea, but then watch as Jamie's expression turns mischievous. He teasingly asks, "Why? Would you actually bid on me? You're already spending time with me for free." He playfully elbows you and you take in a whiff of the lavender-scented body wash you kept in the guest bathroom.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms. "Christ, and they should be paying me for it, too." You reply, but you avoid eye contact with Jamie knowing how easily you'd break into laughter if you did.

"Fine, I'll go with you." You finally agree and before Jamie can celebrate your response, you add on. "But, you owe me a date, too. To Liv's wedding."

Jamie takes a second to reply, and you worry your usage of the word "date" threw him off. But quickly enough, his mischievous smile returns and he agrees, "Alright, it's a deal."

Neither of you mention the gala again till Jamie finally decides he has to get going — "It'll be worse for me if Roy gets to my house and I'm not there," — and says he'll send you the formal invite when he gets home.

It only sinks in when you're getting ready for bed that you're actually going to a formal gala. With Jamie. As his (friendly) date. Next week. What a way to start the new era of your friendship, right?

You wonder how exactly he'd introduce you to the rest of the people there. As his childhood friend? His date? Every option made you feel jittery inside, and you have a hard time accepting that it's possible you're falling for Jamie once again. 

The first time you ever found him attractive was at the ripe age of 16, after locking eyes with him when he was celebrating one of his team's wins. It was that summer of growth spurts and you started to see what everyone else did; Jamie Tartt, your best friend, was fucking fit. It only took a year till you fully accepted it, but ultimately decided to never act on it. Well, aside from that one time, which neither of you brought up again after the morning after.

It took another two years before you gave up on those feelings and buried them deep down, or at least tried to. But allowing Jamie's friendship back into your life brought those feelings back up to the surface. 

So, the week went by quickly and you were now waiting in your apartment in a cropped silk camisole, high-waisted black trousers, and wedge heels that Liv let you borrow, pacing a hole into your floor. All you did with your hair was pin the side bangs away from your face and you hope that's enough.

You hear a knock on your door and you almost trip on the bottom of your pants to open it. You find Jamie in an almost identical outfit to the one he used for his date before, except in a different color. His hair had been slicked back, reminiscent of his older hairstyle but the highlights made the look pop more.

When his eyes land on you, Jamie takes a second to scan you before exclaiming, "Fucking hell."

With a teasing tone to try and make yourself feel more at ease, you ask, "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Jamie looks back up at your eyes and smiles, "You look great." You don't detect a hint of banter from the guy which makes you feel warm inside, until he adds, "Though, I half expected you to wear your dress from our year 12 formal."

"Jamie, I swear I can still find something else to do tonight." You threaten but are unable to stop the smile creeping up on your face.

Jamie just chuckles and takes hold of your hand as if it's the most natural thing in the world. "Come on," He realizes what he's just done and pauses to see your reaction, but when you tighten your grip on his hand, he continues, "Need to get there early so they don't swarm me for pictures." You roll your eyes as the two of you head out of the building.

You actually did get to the venue quite early, since the photographers were still setting up the booth and so the two of you walk over to two ladies, one of whom you recognize as Keeley Jones. After he introduces you, — as his friend and plus one, no mention of the word "date" — you soon find out that the taller one is Rebecca Welton, the owner of AFC Richmond.

"Wow, so you two practically control Jamie's career. Blink twice if you need me to take him off your hands." You lean in towards the two of them but speak loud enough for Jamie to hear and he pulls you back to his side as you laugh. The two women chuckle and share a look between them that you don’t know them well enough to understand, so instead you brush it off.

Jamie gets called for photos and Rebecca leaves to greet the guests heading inside the venue, so you're left standing with the PR manager of the team. As you watch Jamie cycle through various poses, Keeley leans in to ask you, "So, how long have you known him?"

"Well, I met Jamie when I was seven, but when I went off to uni and he joined Man City, we kind of drifted apart and didn't really talk for the next few years." That was basically the truth, anyway. "But I went to one of the Richmond games and we bumped into each other."

"Well, I'm glad the two of you met again. Honestly, Jamie's become much more tame recently. He hasn't had any Twitter feuds or issues in weeks. Makes my job a lot easier." You chuckle, knowing that instead of fighting back, Jamie ends up just complaining about it to you. She adds, "You must be a good influence on him."

"People have been saying exactly that since we were kids, so maybe it is true." You reply and Keeley gives you a wide grin.

When you head into the venue, there are already a few guests settling down in the area. You recognize some of them as footballers, — both from AFC Richmond and other teams, even some retired ones — business owners who are trying out being philanthropists, and people you've seen on magazine covers. 

You were less uncomfortable than you expected because everyone's attention was on Jamie. You stood by him while he greeted a bunch of people and continued to introduce you as his plus one. You hated crowds when you were kids and Jamie knew that, so he'd always check on you if you wanted to go to your seats ahead of him. You'd shake your head every time because you've already had years to get over that fear. Plus, everyone had been nice so far and more polite than you expected rich people to be.

Everyone finally decides to leave Jamie alone and the two of you head to your table, where some of his teammates are already seated and chatting amongst themselves. You recognized them immediately: Sam Obisanya, Dani Rojas, Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes, and Richard Montlaur. Without Jamie even having to introduce you to them, Dani had already asked what your name was.

“What a lovely name! I’m Dani.” You shake the hand he offered you, as the other players start to welcome you as well. They were so warm and kind, that it’s no wonder Jamie had gotten so much better during his time at Richmond. It seemed their energy was so infectious that it was rubbing off on Jamie.

Though, it could be a bit overwhelming too, as they all wanted to have a conversation with you. Someone had asked, “Tell me more about growing up with Jamie,” while someone else chimed in, “Do you think there’s a correlation between your genes and how well you can shoot a penalty? Because Colin here…” and somewhere in the mix, you hear, “That’s a lovely bag you have. Where’d you get that?”

While Jamie was enjoying watching his favorite person interact with his favorite group of people, he started to notice how tense you were becoming, despite the plastered smile on your face. He reached out to grab your hand as he interrupts all the conversations with, “Alright, alright, I think the programs about to start. Let’s stop bothering my date for now, yeah?”

Date. The word alone sent chills down your spine. Even more so when you turned to look him in the eyes, and he had a look of concern that only you could’ve detected. You breathe a sigh of relief and give him a comforting look, which allows him to relax, too.

You both turn towards the stage as Rebecca, along with Ted, their coach, walk up to the mic. They start with the basic pleasantries, thanking everyone for coming, with Ted’s occasional funny chime-ins. As they segue into the auction itself, you can hear your own table come back to life. The teammates started to tease one another when Colin turns to you, “Oi, looks like you’ll have to put up a fight for Jamie tonight.” He nods towards the table behind yours, and you spot a familiar looking lady, smiling at the man beside you. It’s only when Jamie groans that you realize who it is: the old woman who was one of three people in Jamie’s “bidding war” two years ago.

“Oh my god,” you’re unable to stifle your laughter and instead turn away to try and hide it. “You know what, I think I’m fine going home alone, Jamie. This isn’t the first time you’ve gone off at a party to get lucky, so go have fun!” You tease him, but instead, he turns to you with a desperate look in his eyes.

“Please, don’t do this to me, (Y/N). Make sure you win.”

You scoff and lean in, “Who says I’m even bidding tonight? I’m not even tenured, Jamie. How much money do you think I have?”

Jamie pleads once more, “Please. I’ll pay you back in full and you can pick all the movies we watch for the rest of the month. Anything, come on.” You sigh and finally give in to his puppy dog eyes. 

You give him a slight nod and he quietly thanks you, as Ted starts to introduce the team. “Let’s start the auction with one of our striking strikers, Mr. Jamie Tartt!”

Jamie gets up and walks over to the stage, and it’s only then you realize he had been holding your hand this entire time.

Ted rests a comforting hand on his shoulder, but before Richmond’s coach can even start the bidding, you hear a loud voice behind you exclaim, “Five thousand pounds!”

You have to hold in your chuckle as you turn to Jamie who is now desperately staring at you. You raise your paddle high enough and shout, “Six thousand pounds!”

“Oh, and another bid from Mr. Tartt’s lovely date tonight. Can anyone match that, do I hear seven thousand?” The lady once again raises her paddle.

“Eight thousand!” You exclaim once more, as Jamie lets out a sigh of relief.

This back and forth goes on for a while, up until the final bid (from you, unfortunately) of fifteen thousand pounds. The football player finally allows himself to relax and with one final slap on the back from his coach, makes his way back to you.

“Thank you,” he whispers, squeezing your shoulder as he gives you a quick hug and sits down. You playfully roll your eyes, but give him a small smile back. A few more rounds of bidding take place until Jamie leans back into you. “You feel like going on that date now?”

You turn to him confused, “Like, right now? We’re in the middle of the program.”

Jamie shrugs, “We’re done with our part now and gave out a good amount for the charity. Most of them won’t even notice us leave, come on,” He takes hold of your hand, and as if on cue, activating those butterflies in your stomach, yet again. “Unless you want to bid on someone else tonight, which in that case, I didn’t know you had that in you.”

You roll your eyes but eventually agree. You say your short goodbyes to everyone at the table and Jamie leads you to Rebecca and Ted, who, after Coach Beard — you believed his name was? — had taken over for him, was currently gorging on the appetizers.

“Hey boss, Ted, we’re heading out early, but see you both on Monday.” Jamie quickly explains, still not having let go of your hand. You’re starting to wonder if he’ll ever notice or has just grown used to it like he was before.

“That’s no problem, Jamie, see you and thank you for coming!” Rebecca directed that last comment towards you and you give her a big smile. But his coach wipes his mouth with his table napkin and stands up to greet you anyway.

“Well, I can’t let you go off yet without introducing me to this lovely lady.” Ted reaches out to shake your hand and you take it quickly before he leans to whisper to Jamie, but loud enough for you to hear. “Is this her?”

“Jamie Tartt, do you talk about me to your coach?” You ask teasingly, but instead of his usual reaction of fake annoyance, he turns away shyly.

Ted replies for him instead, saying, “Oh well, not all the time. I usually have to pry it out of him, too.” He nudges the football player, who finally decides that it is definitely time for you two to leave. He leads you out of there and the pair of you walk back to his car in a comfortable silence.

You may not have realized it till now, but the inside of the venue was the stuffiest place you’ve been to in a while. Sure, the people were nice, but the mixing of colognes and posh accents was starting to get to you. Before you can thank Jamie for getting you out of there, he’s rifling around his jacket for something.

“I, uh, found something in some of my old stuff. Was planning to give it to you before we left, but I… got distracted,” you try and ignore the warm feeling creeping up on your cheeks as he says that and instead watch Jamie turn back towards you, pull out your hand, and place an item on your palm. “Here.”

You look down to find a small plastic ring with a “gem” in an obnoxious pink color. You chuckle as you’re reminded of the toy rings Jamie would give you on your birthday as kids, till you realize… you’ve been missing one of them since you moved out.

“Wait, is this…” You start and look back up at Jamie, who has a sheepish look on his face. Definitely doesn’t fit him.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you because well, we weren’t really talking all these years, but I went by your house a few days before you left for uni, but you weren’t home and so I went to your room and saw that lined up with the rest of them on your drawer. I thought you were crazy for keeping them all those years, and I wanted to mess with you, so I… took one of them, hoping you’d notice. You never did though, so now I look kinda stupid.” He explained guiltily, but you could only laugh.

“I thought it just fell into the trash when I was moving out. If you wanted me to notice you taking something, you should’ve taken my shoes or something. Why the ring?” You lean onto the side of his car, and Jamie joins you on your right.

He shrugs and swipes his hair back, “I don’t know. We were going our separate ways and you were going all the way to Wales for so long. I realized it was going to be a while before we saw each other again. I thought, maybe if you’d realize it was missing and wanted to go looking for it, you’d always have a reason to go back to me.”

You feel a heavy weight on your chest as the last part sinks in. After everything that’s happened, it had never occurred to you that even at one point, Jamie was afraid of losing you too.

You sit in that silence for a while before you decide to rest your head on Jamie’s shoulder, in one way telling him, I would always go back to you. He got the message.

“I know it doesn’t go with your usual outfit choices now, but I just thought you’d want it back anyway.” He whispers, causing a smile to form on your face.

“Thank you, Jamie.” You look back up at him, his face softening at the sight of yours. “You wanna go on that date now?” You straighten back up and take his hand in yours this time. “What does the legendary Jamie Tartt have planned for this one?”

Jamie looks around and spots a bike rental on the other side of the car park. You didn’t even have to ask to know what he was thinking. “Race you back to that ice cream shop across your flat. Last one there has to pay.” 

“What kind of date is that, Tartt?!” You exclaim, as he drags you across the street.

If there’s one thing you knew about Jamie, it was that he was a sore loser. So after you dropped your bikes in front of your flat and were massaging your calves waiting for your sundaes, this may have been the happiest you’ve seen him lose at something in your whole life.

TAGLIST: @moonflowersandsparkles @faith-alons26 @rexorangecouny @aiyaiy @thegirlthatwantedtowrite @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @higherthanheroes @guccilongboard @alipap3 @rockchickrebel @ellietartt @shineforever19 @skewedcherries @jamietarttdodo @meg-ro @deepdarkvelvet @taytaylala12 @loveforaugust @crownofdecitreadingrespectfully @dickgraysonspersonalwhore @jess4rush @scaramou @rae4725 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo (couldn't tag you for some reason?)

[ranhaitanisgf]

HANAAA!!!!!!!! Congrats on 2k <33 I'M SO PROUD OF YOU For this eventt, may I request Enemies to lovers, the scene being seven minutes in heaven with BAJI!!! There's no specific scene I want SO HAVE FUN WRITING AND AGAIN CONGRATS ON 2K ILY <333333

— baji keisuke // enemies to lovers // seven minutes in heaven

[𖤐] first post of being back!! the first person i talked to after i got back on was sin, so i made sure to type up ur req first 😭 i will get through all of them trust!! baji might be a little ooc since i'm very rusty, but hopefully you all still enjoy!

wc: 2.3k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

as soon as you walked into mikey’s house and saw a very familiar face, you could feel your eyebrow twitching as you turned to your side, the bubbling anger you were feeling seemingly leaking into the air. chifuyu, who was standing beside you, chuckled nervously as you gave him a piercing look. 

“chifuyu…what the hell kinda sick joke is this?! you told me that-” 

“wow, i think i see takemitchy over there! i think he’s looking for me! i should go and see what he wants!” before you could grab onto him and force an explanation out of him, he had deftly avoided you and walked straight into the small party, slipping through the crowd and disappearing. 

you sighed, scratching the nape of your neck for no particular reason as you tried to figure out what your next move was. you could just leave the party and pretend you never came, which at first thought seemed like the best idea. but after thinking about it for more than two seconds, you decided that you definitely didn’t want to give that sort of satisfaction to him, since it would most certainly make its way back to him that you had shown up at some point. 

and so, even though you could see baji keisuke laughing annoyingly loud in the distance, you decided to walk in anyways. 

i mean really, were you going to let some immature and stubborn prick keep you from having a good time? absolutely not. 

mingling with the rest of your friends had proved to make the choice worth it, especially since you had some absolutely priceless polaroid photos of mikey hanging from draken’s braid, (it would always prove a mystery how that managed to even happen in the first place). you’d decided to forgive chifuyu without much repercussion for him aside from a punch in the arm, which he took gracefully. 

you were sipping a mystery fruit punch when he took a break from dancing, leaning on the wall next to you. your eyes flicked over to him before you rolled your eyes in faux annoyance. 

“still can’t believe you betrayed me like that matsuno. in your heart, you truly are a traitor.” the corners of lips turned down into a frown, shaking your head at him as you looked away. you couldn’t see him, but you could almost picture his eyes rolling. 

“y’know, you and baji-san really need to get over whatever thing you guys are hung up on. i didn’t tell you he would be here for your own good, just so you know.” you snorted at the response.

“wooooow, yeah, definitely for my own good…even though i literally hate his guts-” 

“is this little twerp botherin’ ya chifuyu?” a deep voice suddenly interrupted. 

oh dear god. 

you immediately shot a look of disgust to baji, who had made his way over to the two of you. there was a taunting smirk on his face as he stared you down. you feigned throwing up at the sight of him, which only made him chuckle a bit as he lowered his face to your level, that same smirk still spread across his lips. 

very luscious lips…..

“is getting to my height supposed to intimidate me orr…?” you questioned, raising a brow as you took another sip of fruit punch, seemingly unbothered by his presence, (you were very much bothered to even be seeing his face). 

“nah, i just think you got somethin’ in your teeth, (l/n).” he chuckled. your eyes immediately widened as you held a hand up to your mouth, running your tongue over your teeth to feel for any sort of debris. baji leaned back, the same damn infuriating smirk stuck on his face as he said something to chifuyu. you didn’t catch it though; you were too busy trying to see if there really was something in your teeth.

“everyone get over here, we’re gonna play seven minutes in heaven!” you suddenly heard mikey shout, (was his voice slurring or were you crazy?). you looked over at chifuyu, raising a brow at him. he merely shrugged at you, walking over to where everyone else was beginning to sit in a circle. 

you joined him, sitting to his side as you looked around, wondering how this was going to work with 90% of the circle being, well…dudes. draken sat next to you, muttering the same wonderance under his breath, making you snort a bit. 

before you could comment on it, chifuyu leaned over to you, an amused yet sheepish look on his face. “by the way, you don’t actually have anything in your teeth…” 

“what!?” you whisper-yelled. a rambunctious laugh came from baji, who was sitting on chifuyu’s other side, laughing quite animatedly at your expense. 

this is exactly why i don’t like that fool. 

“you stupid asshole!! i swear to god, you never get less infuriating, do you!?” 

“it ain’t my fault if you don’t have a sense of humor, (l/n)!” baji snickered. “you shoulda seen the look on your face!” you glared at him, and you might have even swung at him, (it wouldn’t have been the first time) if it wasn’t for mikey stumbling into the middle of the circle, placing an empty soda bottle on the ground. 

“i think you all know the rules, and if you don’t, then i guess too bad! we’re gonna start nowww, so make sure you guys get ready to pucker up~!” multiple groans were heard from everyone at mikey’s cheeky remark, along with urges for him to just get on with it and spin the bottle. 

“oh, before we start, (y/n)-chan! can you take my spot over there instead? i wanna sit next to draken!” mikey whined. 

he really reminded you of a toddler at times like these. 

“yeah, yeah, sure.” you muttered, hauling yourself up and moving over across the circle. 

“yayyyy thank you!” 

as you sat down again, you began to think that there was something…alcoholic in the fruit punch. your head felt quite a bit fuzzy, and when you were walking it was a little bit harder to place your feet where you wanted them to go. you’d probably be fine though, no sweat. 

yeahhhh, it’s fine. 

“psst, (y/n), you’re up!” sitting to your right was mitsuya, who had nudged you a little bit to get your attention. there was a bit of an amused smile on his face, making you question what had happened in the moment you’d spaced out. 

“huh?” 

“you and baji got chosen by the bottle.” 

“oh alright i guess…” you mumbled, smacking your cheeks to wake up a little bit. it took a moment after that to register what mitsuya had said. “wait, what!?” you yelled, shooting up. you stumbled a bit as you stood up, but you didn’t even care about that at the moment. your eyes locked onto baji, who was already standing. his aura radiated annoyance; he wasn’t even looking at you. 

“whatever, let’s just get this over with already.” he muttered. your mouth opened and closed, trying to form a sentence. 

this is totally a setup! 

you didn’t get a chance to do anything else before someone shoved you out of the circle and in the direction of the closet. 

“wait- why do i have to-!” a final shove secured you into the closet, making you almost trip over your own feet as you tried to get a sense of balance back. there wasn’t even a second to prepare yourself before someone was shoved on top of you, making the both of you topple over and hit the wall. your head slammed against it particularly hard, making your vision go blurry for a moment as you looked to the door. 

“goddamnit, chifuyu…” you mumbled. you furrowed your brows as you felt a dull pulsing pain in your head, likely stemming from the fall and also whatever alcohol that was probably put in the punch bowl. 

oh great. this is just great. 

you tried to squirm out from under baji, who had unceremoniously been tossed on top of you. it was to no avail though; you had neither the energy nor the strength to do that. 

“you mind getting up off me…? you’re heavy as hell.” 

“yeah yeah, i’m goin’. jesus, why are they so serious about this weird shit…” baji lifted himself off of you, and as your eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, you could see him holding out his hands to find a wall to lean on. he didn’t have to try very hard; the closet was so small that his hands could touch both walls. 

you went to lift yourself, but the dull pain in your head turned into a pounding, making you shift into a sitting position instead. a groan slipped through your lips as you closed your eyes, your fingers going to massage your temples in a futile attempt to soothe the pain. 

“y’alright there?” 

“my head hurts like a bitch, but other than that. yeah.” silence swept over the two of you after your rather curt response, leaving the atmosphere a bit tense. you felt a bit awkward about the situation; you were basically mortal enemies, so what were either of you supposed to say? 

you just hoped he couldn’t hear your heart beating a little faster than normal. 

okay, so, maybe you didn’t completely hate him, but in your defense, it was completely warranted. i mean, even as an elementary schooler, who just goes around telling everyone in the grade that you had a crush on him?! oh, that’s right, him. sure, maybe it was an immature reason to go through all of this, but you were not one to let a grudge go easily, even if that grudge is all the way from elementary school. 

the two of you sat in silence for a little while longer before he finally spoke. 

“so how long you gonna keep this little act up?” 

“excuse me?” you scoffed. “what in the world are you even talking about-”

“oh come on (y/n), you can’t seriously think that we’re actually ‘enemies’ or whatever you go around to tellin’ people.” his casual use of your first name made your heart skip a beat, but you ignored it. 

“i’m not that shallow that i would just go around saying things that i don’t mean, for your information. you might not have known then, but that betrayal of trust is not something that i just go around forgiving so easily, especially since you’re so infuriating now.” baji barked out a sharp laugh at your response, sending a surge of annoyance through you. 

he leaned down towards you, shortening the distance between the two of you significantly. even though he probably couldn’t see you, you still quirked a brow, wondering what he was up to. you could faintly see a smirk on his face as he rested his head on his hand, his eyes dark eyes staring at you. 

it almost felt like his eyes were staring right at your soul, making a small shiver go down your spine. 

“heh, you’re a lot more stubborn than i ever gave you credit for, (y/n). i didn’t seriously think that you were still hung up on that.” 

“still hung up on that?? what in the world else would i even be-” 

“do you wanna know why i did that?” 

“...what?” the smirk on his face turned into a softer smile playing on his lips, although his eyes still showed a glint of playfulness. 

“you heard me. do you wanna know?” 

“sure, why not.” 

it’s like you could really have any reason to warrant doing something like that anyways. 

“it’s cause i liked you, stupid.” 

it’s probably the last words you ever expected him to say. 

what…

you just stared at him, mouth open, no words forming to even try and respond to him. 

“you’re seriously that surprised? man, i thought chifuyu was jokin’...” baji’s head dropped down as he let out a loud sigh, his fingers weaving through his hair. 

“...i mean…what the hell was i supposed to think baji…” you managed to get out, looking to the side out of pure embarrassment. now that you knew, you just felt silly and stupid, shame flooding through you. of course; he was an elementary school boy, so of course he would go and brag about it to everyone. 

“i guess i sent some mixed signals there; sorry (y/n). do you accept though?” 

“accept what?” baji scoffed at you and rolled his eyes playfully, leaning forward to flick your forehead. 

“ow!” 

“my feelings, duh. do i have to spell everything out for you?” he looked at you expectantly, patiently waiting for an answer, (which was very unlike him). 

“i-uh, well-”

“time’s up, lovebirds!” a knock from the door interrupted you, and there was only a moment before the door was opened, flooding the small closet with light. you squinted your eyes, the light seeming too bright after being in darkness for a while. 

“so, did you guys get over your feud yet, or are you guys still enemies?” chifuyu asked, a somewhat knowing look on his face as he looked at baji kneeling in front of you. the boy in front of you merely stood up, grinning while he helped you up. 

“i guess we’ll have to see.” his fingers slid between yours, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the closet, past chifuyu, past the party and outside. 

the cool air of the night hit your face as the two of you walked, sobering you up a little bit and making you realize that baji was still holding your hand. you tried to free it from his gasp, but he held a firm grip, finally slowing down and stopping to face you. a boyish smile was on his face, making your cheeks heat up as he held steady eye contact that you couldn’t look away from. 

“so, what’ll it be, (y/n)?”

[flying-nightwing]

If I May (pt. 1)

Fuck it, Pride & Prejudice AU

This was hastily written while I was up in my feelings after re-re-re(x5) watching the movie (2005) because I needed a Mr. Darcy-esque Jason fic or i would have died. This is therefore extremely self indulgent. I'm also very rusty so forgive me if some parts aren't smooth. Expect a part 2 soon. And as always, enjoy!

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Word count: 3705

Warnings: none

Summary: You are a merchant's daughter who's trying to live a decent life, even if it means forsaking your own happiness. However, one short meeting with a stranger on a balcony sets you on another path, and you're not sure how to feel about it.

Gold light, marble floors. 

Violin, harpsichord, laughter. 

Sapphire eyes and mahogany hair, a blur of diamonds and pearls. A hundred feet dancing and twirling to the melody, the rustle of fabrics moving along with them to create colors and shapes out of a dream.

A night that seemed to never end. 

Your corset was too tight. You curtsied your partner as the music came to an end, excusing yourself for a moment. You had to get out of that crowd, to get away from the man in front of you. You made your way toward the balcony, your pushing becoming less and less ceremonious as you went. Your breathing was shallow yet couldn't be fast enough as gloved hands rose in indignation at your less than ladylike behaviour. 

Hadn't you reached the glass door when you did, you believed you would have cried. The sudden cool air allowed you to take a deep breath as you threw yourself forward, holding your hands out on the rail to catch yourself. You closed your eyes and took a moment to gather yourself, then turned around and gently closed the door, effectively muffling the new song that started with a roaring cheer from the crowd. 

Slowly, you returned to the rail and guided your stare to the night. The sky was clear and the stars were bright, but it didn't ease your mind like it always did. 

It was all wrong. 

Everything was wrong.

Your father passing away, your step brother giving you an ultimatum to marry this season or join the Sisters, as he had no intention to keep you on his newly inherited estate, your mother who was still sickly and bed ridden. 

You weren't poor by any means, but you weren't a part of the high society either. Your status was decent, and your name was respected enough to earn a good match. But with your father's unexpected passing and your step brother's petulance, you came with a bed ridden old woman to take with you, and that displeased many of the potential marriage candidates for you. 

So when one began courting you with the full knowledge of your situation, as in, knowing your mother would move with you to his estate, you didn't resist. You reciprocated the courting, and danced with the man at every ball, and walked with him in the gardens. He wasn't particularly beautiful, he was a bit on the older side, and his interest appeared to be lying in the fact that he had resigned himself to settle, to marry the least ugly woman with the least trouble following her. 

But he was also from decent money, with a respectable name and estate, and he most likely wouldn't treat you badly, which is more than you could have hoped for in such short notice. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You practically jumped out of your skin at the voice coming from behind you. With a shriek of terror, you slapped a hand on your chest and spun around, your eyes stopping on the stranger that seemingly appeared out of thi  air on the balcony with you. He held up his hands in front of him while his mouth curved in a cryptical smirk.

“Easy there, forgive me for scaring you” He spoke as he slowly stepped forward. As he came closer and into the light, you took in his features. His voice had been low and smooth, perfectly fitting his strong jaw and black hair, you decided. He was quite young, around your age if you had to guess, but his ocean blue eyes reflected a wisdom well past his age. They were hypnotic, you also concluded as you forced yourself to look away before drowning in them. You cleared your throat. “Running away from the party?”

You blinked rapidly at his words as they brought you back to Earth. “Well, just–Not running away, it's a lovely ball–”

Your mouth kept going on its own. You had no idea who that man was, or what was his relation with the family who hosted the ball. You didn't want to accidentally insult him.

You felt your face heat up when you noticed the amusement dancing in his eyes, or the smile he was trying to hold back. Luckily, he spoke before you could babble anymore. 

“It's fine, I was running away from it too” He supplied as he went to stand by the rail beside you, no doubt aware of your eyes on him. “Dreadful affairs”

You let out a quiet breath, glad you wouldn’t be judged for wanting a break. “I don’t find them to be so bad… Usually”

His scoff was half hearted. “Some pretty boy broke your heart?”

You knew he was saying this as a joke, his relaxed posture and humorous tone said as much. Still, it stung a nerve you didn’t even know was sensitive. It reminded you that you’d never get to experience the regular courting, the regular game of yes-no-maybe the other girls your age would go through. You were aware it was a strange thing to wish for–drama and heartbreaks that is–but simply knowing you were robbed of it made you sad. 

He definitely noticed your shift of attitude, because his good mood dropped into concern. “Wait, some pretty boy did break your heart?”

You shook your head. “No, no not that” You hesitated before speaking, but he patiently waited for you to do so, so you went for it. After all, you had never seen this mysterious, handsome man before, and you’d probably never see him again. You took a deep breath and turned to face the stars. “My father died in the winter. My mom has been sick for a year now. And when my step brother inherited the estate, he told me that I had until the end of the season to marry and take my mother with me”

He frowned. “My condolences” He said, eyeing you carefully. “But I believe someone looking like you shouldn’t have trouble finding a good husband”

You laughed humorlessly. “You’d think that, wouldn’t you” You mumbled as you glanced up for a second. He seemed confused. “I am on the lower side of my social class. My step brother will not give a dime for the wedding. I come tied with a sick mother. I could be the most beautiful thing in the world and I would still be a prospect for desperate men and old widowers”

He waited for a moment before speaking. “And you know this because you have one, don’t you?”

You nodded slowly. 

“I’m sorry”

“What for?” You tilted your head. “You’ve had no part in it”

His eyes found you and you glanced back, looking at his partially shadowed face. For a moment you could let yourself daydream that he was the one who’d propose to you in the upcoming weeks, that he would bring you in his kingdom far away from your step brother and this miserable marriage that would await for you. But then, you had to return to reality and forget your little fantasy. This man wasn’t yours to claim. 

“I’m sorry that you won’t be able to live your life the way you desire” He said, seeming more genuine than anyone you’ve ever met. “Everybody deserves a chance at happiness. I hope you may still find it despite of everything”

You tore your eyes from him as your vision blurred, as you did not want to let the stranger see your tears. You hastily wiped them off, and when you looked to where he stood again, he was gone. You glanced around, searching for any trace that he hadn’t just in your imagination, but the stranger was nowhere to be seen. You blinked, returning your eyes to the stars for a minute. You recomposed yourself and smothered your dress, then returned to the ball. 

—

“I still can’t believe we got an invite” You said as the carriage crossed a stone bridge. The sun was going down and the countryside looked positively marvelous.

Your step brother scoffed at your words, like they were a ridiculous claim. “Of course we did. The Duke obviously recognizes the importance of my business. Now that I’m in charge, I have made much better decisions than the old man, and it’s blooming like never before. In no time, I’ll become a proper lord, a baron. Or even a viscount”

You bit your tongue not to answer that it was your father who built the business, your father who made the right decisions years ago, your father that allowed him to reap the fruit of his labour. “I’m sure he does, and I’m sure you will”

“By the way” He eyed you cryptically, ignoring your lack of enthusiasm. “Has Mr. Degras shown signs he would propose soon?”

You opted to look outside instead of meeting his eyes. “Yes. The marriage is pretty much certain, as he is not courting anyone else and neither am I. But I think he’ll wait until just past midseason to actually propose, not to suggest anything untoward about the whole affair”

He hummed, disinterested. “Yes, well, the sooner the wedding, the better. Wouldn’t you say?”

“I would” Your reply came mechanically. You did not especially look forward to your marriage, but moving far, far away from the man in front of you did sound appealing right at this moment. 

“Good” 

The scenery quickly changed and you couldn’t be bothered to listen to your brother ramble about his business. A manor greater than anything you’ve seen before appeared through the neatly trimmed trees of the property, and you gasped at the sight. There were many other carriages, all much more grand than yours. 

No sooner than later, you pulled to the entrance. A valet opened the carriage door, and your step brother all but pushed you back on the seat to get out first. With a muffled oof, you pulled yourself straight again and followed your step brother out. The valet offered a hand and an apologetic glance, helping you step down on the gravel. You returned a smile to him, following your step brother from afar.

If the outside was grandiose, then the inside of the manor was totally mind blowing. You couldn’t help but gawk in awe at the details on the structure, and the intricate decoration. YOu barely noticed the crowd chattering along the foyer. You however began questioning the reason for your invite the more you explored the manor. It didn’t take an idiot to see that the people around you were draped in visibly more expensive fabrics, and their behaviour was distinct from the ones you were used to. Your suspicions that you hardly belonged there were only confirmed when you stepped in the grand ballroom, where literally none of the other families of your status were present at all.

Then, you saw it. Or rather, you saw him.

The Duke was standing proudly at the front of the room. His black and yellow-gold coat striking out from the crowd, but not as much as his sharp features. But he wasn’t what caught your attention, probably unlike anybody else present. It was the stoic face of his tallest child beside him, head high and shoulders square, glance forward and unmoving. On his dark red coat were multiple military decorations, and on his face, multiple scars the night’s darkness did not reveal the first and last time you met. 

Your jaw involuntarily hung open at the realization. The handsome stranger you laid all your afflictions upon just a few weeks earlier was in fact the son of the most powerful individual in the country that wasn’t a King. You felt your neck and chest heat up in embarrassment at the only thought of airing out your problems to someone like him. You knew the stories of his military service, the alleged torture and the constant brushes with death, everybody in the country had heard them. Your struggles in comparison were jest, and you felt like a whiny child to have complained about them to him specifically. 

His watchful eyes then settled onto you, betraying absolutely no feeling of recognition whatsoever, and you’d believe he didn’t recognize you at all if it hadn’t been for the slight tilt of his head, acknowledging your presence. You blinked and looked anywhere but to him, then blended in the crowd. Even then, you felt like you couldn’t if you tried. You felt gazes and whispers falling upon you, wondering who you were and what you were even doing in such a ball. No matter where you went, you couldn’t escape them. 

You finally decided on joining the dancers, believing it would help shift the attention off of you. You danced one song, then another with gentlemen that didn’t stand out to you; which was preferable for you. Unfortunately, your peace didn’t last very long. Because when you looked up to your next partner for the third dance, you came face to face with a distinct black and gold who was already bowing before you could escape. Your spine went rigid as your wide eyes met his steady ones, and before you could blink, a pleasant smile wrote over his previously stern expression. You didn’t know which one terrified you the most

The music began and he bowed to you, and you hurried to return a curtsy. You felt practically everyone stare on you as you took the first steps of the dance, carefully spinning around each other. He was the first to speak.

“I must apologize for my son’s poor manners” He said, and your eyebrows raised in half panic. What did he mean by– “He was the one to insist on inviting you and grace us with your lovely presence. He should have been the one to dance with you the first moment you stepped on the floor, but unfortunately, he is rather… stubborn, I’m afraid”

You did not know how to answer this, your jaw going up and down without any sound coming out. A small frown came over his brow, but it wasn’t deep enough to cover the light amusement of his features. 

“Ah” He replied, a knowing sparkle in his eyes. “He did not tell you about it, did he?”

“I knew nothing of the sort” You confirmed in a small voice. “4I am truly sorry to intrude, I know I am not part of the nobility–”

“Please, do not apologize” He gently cut you off. “You were invited, were you not? Therefore no intrusion whatsoever was committed. And between you and I,” He paused, leaning a bit forward as the dance steps brought you respectfully close. “I would be willing to bet your specific presence is much more wanted than anyone else's here tonight”

There you went, speechless once again. The dance finished, and with a respectful bow, the Duke parted ways with you to return to the front of the room, where a figure in red was definitely missing. You looked around the room, but didn't find your stranger anywhere. That until, you went to step away from the floor and collided with a strong, red coated chest. Your eyes followed the buttons up to find his jaw clenched hard and his eyes still fixated on a point beyond your shoulder. 

Mechanically, his hand lifted up. “May I have the next dance?”

You looked around you as a hush fell over the room, and you deducted it was a rare occurrence for the young lord to dance if everybody was staring at you in disbelief. Not wanting to cause more of a scene, you managed to find your voice. “You may”

Carefully, you placed your hand in his and let him guide you back to the middle of the room. His bow to you was stiff and uncomfortable, but his steps were light and precise, practiced and repeated until it became a second nature. Yet, his expression was displaying something far from ease. 

“For someone who thinks balls are dreadful, I must point out that twice i’ve met you, and twice it was at a ball”

A tiny scoff shook his shoulders, but not his stoic expression. “Both times out of absolute obligation, I assure you”

“You were more chatty last time” 

“Merely an effect of a glass too many of red wine”

That was no way to speak to someone of his status, but he didn’t seem to have any intention to correct you.

“I didn’t know it was you”

He knew well what you meant. I didn’t know it was you that night. “That’s because I chose not to tell you”

“You must think this is hilarious” You muttered against your will, but it just had to come out. There was a rage suddenly boiling inside of you and it came up too quickly for you to effectively rein it back. “Having a merchant’s daughter spill her insignificant secrets to you, then invite her to a ball she very clearly doesn’t belong to, showing her everything she’ll be missing, then making sure everyone notices it too. Poor deluded girl gets a pity dance with the Duke and his son. Are you entertained enough, my lord? Or should I trip and humiliate myself just a little bit more?”

His eyes widened a little bit more with every word, leaving him with a frightened and wounded expression one would find on a scolded child. In this precise moment, neither the smooth, mysterious stranger on the balcony nor the stoic soldier was staring back at you. You almost didn’t notice when the song ended, but you didn’t miss your opportunity to storm away, pushing past the crowd and trying your best to ignore their whispers on your way out. 

After a few flights of stairs, you finally found a way out in the gardens. The fresh air was like a breath of relief, and the soothing cool of the air was welcomed on your skin. You walked until you found a pond and sat on the bench, glaring at the reflection of the moonlight in the water. You spiralled deep in your thoughts, until you heard your name being called in an unfamiliar voice.

You jumped onto your feet and spun around, coming face to face with an elegantly dressed woman, her blonde hair beautifully cascading down her shoulders. You recognized her as one of the figures standing beside the Duke at the front of the room, but she didn’t have the air of arrogance you’d have expected her to bear. Instead, she seemed kind and confident, the type of person one wouldn’t mind sitting down with for tea and a good conversation. She smiled at your apparent wariness.

“May I sit with you?”

You nodded, then remembered she was probably also outranking you. “Yes, of course you may” 

You waited until she rounded the bench and sat down to sit back. For a few minutes, she didn’t talk, she just observed you. 

“You’re sure as pretty as I believed you’d be”

You blinked in surprise. Out of everything you believed she’d say, this was definitely not it. “... Thank you?”

Her smile widened, but she didn’t add anything on the matter. Instead, she jumped into the topic she was probably here for in the first place. “He upset you, didn’t he?”

Your eyes snapped forward and your back straightened. “Did he tell you to come and make it worse?”

Instead of being insulted at your dry rebuttal, she simply laughed and brushed her hand. “Not at all, the poor fool’s probably still standing frozen where you left him. Listen, I came after you to check up on you. He’ll be fine, but I wanted to see if you were”

Your eyes reluctantly found hers again. “Why?”

She sighed. “With all his lack of tact, Jason meant well. All he said to us is that you told him you enjoyed balls, and that you deserved a night for yourself. Neither I or the Duke knows anything beyond that. He might have been clumsy in handling it, but rest assured, mocking you was the last of his intention”

You heard all of what she said, but somehow, your brain got caught on one specific word. One specific name. “So, his name is Jason”

She tilted her head to the side. “You didn’t know?”

You shook your head. “We heard the stories, but nobody could agree on the right name” 

“Oh well, he is going to be pissed that I robbed him of his grand introduction, that’s certain” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle along with her at the absolute ridiculousness of your situation. You liked her, you decided, but just as your handsome stranger–no, Jason–you didn’t hope to get attached. Then, something came up in your head, making you frown.

“How do you know my name?” You asked. “In fact, how did anyone know my name? I never told him”

She smiled at you again, the glint in her eyes telling you there was a secret you definitely didn’t know about dangling about your head. Come to think of it, it was the same as the one you had observed in both the Duke and his son’s eyes. “The Duke has his way”

“Okay?”

She shook her head and changed the subject. “Do you want to know a secret?”

Your eyes narrowed. “... Sure”

She leaned forward. “You were the only person who received an invite for tonight” She revealed, and before you could call out her lie, she beat you to it. “I swear it’s true. Everybody you saw tonight just assumed they were invited, because of their own vanity and self-importance. You, on the other hand, are the only person that was actually wanted here. Do with that information as you may, but please, don’t be too harsh on Jason. He really did mean well”

You nodded slowly, watching as she stood up. “Well, this has been a pleasure”

“Likewise” You mumbled back, staring at her expectantly. 

“Stephanie” She filled in. “Stephanie Brown”

“Have a nice evening, miss Brown”

“Oh, I will” She grinned wolfishly. “Good night”

“You… too…” You watched as she walked away, leaving you to ponder this last conversation alone in the gardens.

[rickssugarplum]

Rick Returns

After a much too long hiatus, I have finally made a new Rick fic. Wow. A lot has changed since my last fic, but I want to thank all of you amazing readers who have been so patient. Please forgive me if my writing is a little rusty. Thanks again and excited for Season 7 tonight! ❤

(Rick C-137 x Reader) SFW-, Swearing, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Someone, Season 6 Spoilers, 1,900+ words

Rick comes to see you again after a long time. And you find some changes in him.

    *************************************************

It had been too long. Far too long. You hadn't heard a single word from Rick in what felt like a lifetime and were still wondering what the hell went wrong. It seemed to have happened out of nowhere. One day, everything had been fine, and then suddenly, he all but disappeared. He didn't come see you anymore; he wouldn't call you up, not even a single text. At first, you started to think an adventure went awry. Then you started thinking something was really wrong, but you weren't sure what. Is he on a new planet? Did he have to do a high-paying mission? What if he's hurt? Or could he be dead? With how things are now, he might as well be. He started to become a series of bittersweet memories now. You did everything you could to try to forget him, but that was pointless. Rick Sanchez wasn't a man you can just forget, no matter how hard you tried. Many tears were shed, and many thoughts crept into your mind. If his leaving had nothing to do with his space-traveling lifestyle.

Did I do something wrong?

Did he find someone else?

Was I...not enough?

Many months had passed, and you were certain the blue-haired scientist was out of your life forever.

Close to midnight, you were in your bathroom washing your face and getting ready to sleep. As you enter your bedroom, about to lay down in your bed, you hear a sound you thought you would never hear again—the loud warp of a portal.

Immediately, your heart sped up rapidly as you wondered if you were hallucinating. But when you saw a young brunette boy in a yellow t-shirt, you were completely puzzled.

".....Morty??"

You were worried he was here to tell you really bad news about his grandfather. But you had no time to even ask what was happening before another figure broke through the portal. A figure much taller. The silhouette of his spiky hair caught your eye immediately.

It was him. He was here. Rick was back in your room.

His eyes were fixed on you right away. There was almost a determination in them. Yet he also looked unsure.

"Thanks, Morty. I'll take it from here." He motioned the kid to the portal, presumably back home. The boy took a worried glance at both of you before turning back through the portal and disappearing. Now it was just you and Rick. Looking into his eyes for the first time in forever, all the pain came back crystal clear. And the source was right in front of you.

"Bab-"

"DON'T. YOU. DARE. 'BABY' ME."

Rick shut his mouth and understood right away. You were not going to let him off so easily.

"You son of a bitch." You spat at him.

"I know you're mad, and I-"

"Mad!? You ghost me for months; I haven't had even one measly fucking text, and you think I'm mad!?" You interrupted. "I didn't know what the hell happened to you! All these months without any contact from you. Nothing."

Rick stayed silent. He had no argument to make.

"At first, I just thought, 'Oh, he's on a big adventure with Morty! No biggie!' Or had a run-in with an alien mob or something, and it would just take a bit longer to get back to me," you explained. Looking back at Rick, he was rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes looking down to the floor. But you knew he was still listening.

"I was starting to think you were dead." You confessed, trying to keep yourself together.

Rick took in a deep breath before he answered. "I owe you an explanation. All I ask right now is that you'll let me give you that," he requested.

Goddamnit. Just hearing his voice again is painful.

"I thought you were done bailing on people," you said bitterly.

Rick interjected, "Hey, don't start with that." You watched him grab his flask out of his lab coat and take a sip from it.

"Why? Truth too much for you? Does the great Rick Sanchez actually have a kryptonite?" you mocked.

Rick put his hand over his mouth, keeping himself quiet as you let out everything you suppressed inside all this time.

"You told me you'd never leave me behind. No matter where you'd go, you would stick around." You scoffed. "I was really fucking stupid to believe you."

Rick was starting to get agitated. This was not how he pictured this playing out.

"Ugh. Look, I didn't come here to argue."

"No. You want to smooth everything over so I can do any favors you'll want. Bet you never even thought about me all this time. Out of sight, out of mind, right?"

"It's not like that!" he argued. The nerve of him "Why wouldn't it be? It's the same ending to every chapter in your life, Rick. You'll never change."

He winced. That one stung a little. You knew some of your statements could hurt him, but you were too angry to care. Part of you wanted him to see how it felt to be let down by someone you've given your heart to.

"You left an entire dimension after destroying it."

Rick was losing his composure. "Don't."

"Left your family on a tiny planet when the world was going to shit."

He didn't want to hear any of this. "Stop."

"You left Morty to be with some fucking crows."

"Knock it off," he warned.

"Or what!? Are you gonna leave again?" you challenged. "I was starting to accept the fact that you wouldn't come back. What would stop you now?"

"That's not what I meant!" he argued.

"Why would I be so special that you wouldn't bail again? You've done it your whole life. Starting with your own wife and daughter!"

Rick lost it. "I DIDN'T LEAVE MY WIFE AND DAUGHTER!" he shouted. His hands tangled in his hair, and his eyes squeezed shut.

That stopped you dead in your tracks. Confused, you stepped closer to him. A soft gasp escapes when you see that his face has now become wet with tears.

"Rick...?" you said softly. All the rage you previously had inside you has now completely evaporated. This new shift startled you. He was not someone who openly broke down. Nor would he tell such a lie while doing so.

If he didn't leave them, then why weren't they ever with him? Unless his wife took their child and left him, or if they had...

...........

No.

A new feeling is integrated into you: guilt. You were starting to pick up all the tragic pieces together. The heartbreak was plain to see on Rick's face as he trembled in front of you.

In that moment, the source of all his demons became more clear than ever before. He had truly suffered the worst kind of pain.

"Oh...Rick...." Your voice cracked. The distance between you both closed as you wrapped your arms around him. He accepts them immediately and holds on tightly.

"I'm so sorry..."

His face is buried in your neck. To shield his face, or more to just feel you again, it didn't matter. Right now, he needed this. Stroking his baby blue hair, you had almost forgotten how soft it was...

"Rick...I'm sorry...I had no idea..." you said in shame, thinking back to everything you'd said to him before. Now, he had every right to be mad at you. But his first response you received was a soft, gentle kiss on your neck, making you lightly shiver.

"It's haunted me for many years. Consumed most of my life," he confessed. Lifting his head up, you see his face. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were damp from his hurt flooding out of him. Your thumbs gently brush away the tears under his eyes. "I...thought I had finally could have a new chance to find some stability, be with a family, but...something did come up...and it all came flooding back..."

Your brows raised at that.

"So...that's why I haven't been around."

You still weren't entirely aware of the whole story. But one thing was certain: When Rick Sanchez is consumed by something, he gives his all into it.

"I'm such a fucking idiot..." you blurted out, shaking your head. "I thought...you had just gotten bored and moved on from me..."

Rick interjected, "Oh no, baby no..." He pulled you back into his arms, placing your head on his chest. His heartbeat soothed you as you took a deep breath in and out.

"You weren't the only one I hurt here... I-I had kept Morty out of it all too..."

A sigh escapes you. "He's such an amazing grandson to you," you mutter.

"Yeah...but he's not my grands-"

"Yes, he is." You interrupted. "It doesn't matter where you came from or where he came from. He's been there for you through everything and seen you at your worst. And the fact that he came here tonight with you just to make sure you were okay shows me that he still cares about you despite everything. I know he wouldn't want any other Rick. And you wouldn't trade him for any other Morty. You are his grandpa, Rick."

His arms hold you a bit tighter, a silent 'thank you' for your encouraging words.

"Did he tell you to come talk to me?" you wondered.

"Uh no. I, uhh, hooo boy...You won't believe it when I tell you," he warned you awkwardly.

"What?" You didn't know what or who else could convince him to do anything.

"I...was told I should see you by...my uhh...therapist..." he finished, rubbing the back of his neck.

Your eyes bugged out in shock. "A therapist!? You're seeing a therapist!??

He scoffs "Okay, you really don't have to rub i-" His sentence is cut off by a surprise kiss on his cheek, leaving him a little startled. "Oh, Rick. I'm so proud of you," you say sincerely. It's as if hell had frozen over. He really has changed.

"Yeah, she's, uh, she's alright," he admits with a small smile. "She also told me to tell you what I needed to say, so... I'm sorry."

Your vision starts to get blurry with tears. Those two simple words from this man mean so much. Cupping his face in your hands, you give Rick a small smile before leaning forward and pressing your lips to his. Your arms wrap around his neck, never wanting to let him go. He holds you close when he kisses you back with a little more desperation. He hasn't been kissed by you in so long.

When you finally break away to breathe, you look into his eyes again. This time, they look more serene. As if he feels some shred of peace for the first time in... he can't remember when.

"I've missed you..." you whispered. He pressed his forehead against yours.

"I missed you too, baby..."

With that, every shattered piece of your heart had been put back together. There was more he needed to share with you, but the emotional reunion and the fact that it was late at night left you exhausted. But you were going to sleep much more peacefully with the eccentric man resting beside you once again.

After all these painful months, Rick was finally back. He's changed in some ways, and you were looking forward to seeing how these changes would guide him to a better path.

Because, no matter what happens, you will always love him.

❤

[sea-of-dust]

whahsbebshdd i’m rlly shy abt this and i saw the bedman hcs you wrote and i loved it so much it had my legs kicking and my hair twirling

requesting bedman x a really loving kinda clingy reader,,,,,,

Bedman x GN! Clingy! Loving! Reader

There's no summary it's general headcannons annons letting me be werid!!

N: YIPPEEEEEEE, dont be shy about future requests when open asks are welcomed! thank you for the request!

Warnings: spoilers for bedman during strive and xrd, and minor spoilers for bedmans? Story

He's not escaping you, like ever not like he wants to anyway. "I'm leaving!" "Not without me!" You rush toward the door "you're still in your pjs" "does it matter?" He sighs disappintedly, you could probably do a pushup for everytime he sighs and end up swole and then he'd sigh again

You blame him for being likeable for you being as loving as you are. His kisses even though they're just small taps on the cheek from him they always leave you wanting him to do it again. "Stop" "I'm not doing anything tho" "you're about to ask me if I want to let you brush my hair" "....no" "do it" "yay!" Atleast someone takes care of his physical appearance for em, he's getting free spa days without someone complaining over how much he nitpicks. "Under my nails have been a bit dirty too" "I'll get it" "and there might be a pimple near my leg" "I'll pop it" "dirt in my glasses aswell" you stop what you're doing just to stare it him blankly, even though his eyes were closed he could still feel you staring bullets. "What?" "Are they even prescription?"

He'd enjoy the times he got to appear in your dreams, he's awake able to talk...alot...but his voice is pretty it's not like he'll rant so hard he raps about the same topic twice "when we talk about survival of the fittest-" that was all u listened to before just hearing a mumble of his voice, him just going on and on with you nodding your head. Other than the long 12 page essay front to back that comes out of his mouth he can also be quite engaged in dreams, specifically yours. He'd 100% ask you the next dream you have with him in it. "So what did you dream about?" Your eyes widen before your face goes stone cold "a discount at the supermarket and me trying to make homemade ice cream sandwiches that ended up exploding" he pushes up his glasses "is that so?" "Yea" "because a little birdie told me you were dreaming of me" you giggle, foolish mistake infront of him of all people, you'd have to wipe that dream out of your brain before he gets it outta you

He'd act like he doesn't like how much physical affection, hed be all "love is feable it isn't going to last and most people that are motivated by it end up crying in someone's couch" but everytime you headed his warnings, he'd get a tad...pretty annoyed. "Am I disgusting to you?" "What?" "You haven't hugged me for an entire 6 minutes is there a bug on me?" "I thought you didn't like me being that way" "I do" for the first time you sigh disapointedly "Alright buddy" "so you're not even going to call me Romeo now" you somehow can feel him putting hands on his hips, expect him to be ranting in his dreams because he didn't ever expect you to call him anything other than Romeo and not hug him for 6 minutes. You've learned giving him a small kiss is usually enough for him to forgive you.

You're also the person behind how polished the bed is, with Romeo or not. "You've gotten a bit rusty" it gently squeezes your hand "I ment physically, I'll take it off I wonder if it'll hurt you like this" Delilah trusts you a bit with him not knowing the extent of your relationship. "Don't touch him too much" "you think he'll attack me?" "Maybe" you pat the beds hand "don't worry I can fix him" you feel both siblings give judgemental looks. "That's crazy I can hear your brother sighing and calling me a fool"

[bloodhoundluke]

for the love of strange medicine ✧ luke hemmings

pairing: luke hemmings x friend! reader

description: luke loves y/n in secret and his flirty comments make y/n's head spin. after calum's party, y/n finally gets an answer to luke's strange behavior.

warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing. please let me know if there’s anything else.

word count: 2,7k. a/n: hi there! this won the poll, the title was supposed to be 'it's impossible to ignore you' but i like for the love of strange medicine more :) i'm a bit rusty so please forgive me <33 and because i loved writing this so much, i think i'll do a pt. 2 to this!

The Californian sky was covered in haze that one Thursday. Luke stared at the cafe arguably named after a Steve Perry song: For the Love of Strange Medicine. It was fitting since Luke basically considered coffee to be his medicine, not to mention the delicious pretzels he had bought from the very same cafe a few days ago.

Luke rubbed his eyes and yawned, taking in the last smokes of the cigarette he had been inhaling on for the last three minutes. He swore to himself that it would be the last day he'd smoke. It wasn't. He pulled his phone out: 6:58am. He hated early mornings, and he hated how the cafe still wasn't open. Two more minutes, he told himself. He was growing impatient. Maybe it was the stress of recording a new album, maybe it was the fight he had with the manager last night.

When the clock hit 7am, you opened up the cafe. You gave Luke a soft yet tiresome smile which screamed It’s too damn early for this and he returned the favor. Luke saw the name tag on your black t-shirt: Y/N.

As time went by, Luke visited the cafe several times in an attempt to see your face again. To his misfortune, you weren’t working during any of those shifts. You had cut down your hours because of the intense lecture schedule. Luckily for Luke, you bumped into each other at a local festival while you both were watching Green Day play.

Your and Luke's friend groups emerged that night and you enjoyed his company too much for your own liking. You didn’t do men. You didn’t hang around them. Not even as friends. They all caused trouble for you. But with him, everything was different somehow. The night ended with you and Luke in your hotel room. There was nothing sexual about that night if not counting your lingering gazes at each other. You and Luke stayed up until seven in the morning, sharing your love of Green Day and Stranger Things, and talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

Luke and you started to grow closer since spending time together. It had been nearly 3 months since you had met and you felt as if you've known him for your whole life. Then Luke went on tour and he didn't want to believe he couldn't see your face as frequently anymore. You made him feel seen and most importantly, safe.

One time Ashton, Calum and Michael caught Luke looking at your Instagram pictures before a show. The boys couldn’t let it go and stop teasing about the way he was biting his lip nervously while scrolling through your Instagram page. Luke convinced them there was nothing to tease about. You were just friends, and that’s the way it would always be. Your lives were so different from each other; you, a part-time barista and a university student and Luke, a touring rockstar. It could never work.

You tried to forget your feelings for your friend, you really did. But you couldn't. Every corner of your flat and everyone you met reminded you of Luke. Even if it was someone’s blonde hair or a tiny detail in their jacket. Everyday activities such as going grocery shopping which you normally enjoyed couldn’t get him off your mind. You’d see the Australian-grown coffee beans. Boom, Luke. Lavender-scented laundry detergent he used. Luke again. And the fact that Luke texted you every day didn't help in the process of trying to forget the feelings you had for him.

—❦

You were attending a party tonight. But not just any party, Calum's party. His parties were known for a good time and endless bottles of free booze.

You wiggled on your black leather dress, which you had just bought. It barely covered your knees and you loved how it hugged you from all the right places. The combo of the leather dress, red lipstick and curly hair gave you all the confidence you needed to go out tonight and see Luke. Yes, he was your friend but you still felt nervous around him. And you blamed him for that. His James Dean glossy eyes and irresistibly long curly hair. His charm and his stupid dad jokes. You were whipped for him and it was a wonder no one around you noticed that. Or that’s what you thought anyway. 

You recall the last time you had seen Luke. He had called you and asked to pick him up from his apartment a week ago. You knocked on his door and saw him with someone. A tall, gorgeous woman. Seeing the model-looking brunette beside Luke made your stomach flip. He seemed so happy with his arms around her waist. Maybe he had met her when he was on tour. You greeted them both and bit the insides of your cheek. That memory reminded you of the time you were helping him to pick out an outfit for him for his date a few weeks ago. Maybe it was for her. He had just returned back home from the tour and the poor man was all over the place. Maybe it was nerves, maybe he was just tired from touring. You imagined how Luke would get ready for your date and ask for assistance from Ashton, Michael and Calum. But that would never happen, so you snapped out of the thought. You were only hurting yourself by having these thoughts. You were such a fool for him, and you didn't know how to make it stop.

You sat down on top of your bed and decided to check Instagram on your phone. “He’s so pretty I think I’m gonna faint”, you whispered mainly just to yourself. 

“Who are you talking about?”, your friend heard your little comment and frowned their eyebrows.

“Uh….maybe I’ll keep it a secret”, you winked.

“C’mon Y/N!”.

“Okay, I was talking about Timothée Chalamet. He looks so pretty”, was the lie you came up with. You couldn’t tell them you were talking about Luke. You had just seen his new Instagram photo and can’t get over his pretty blue eyes. And his curly locks. And that god-damn jawline. And his….well, everything.

“I know right! Maybe we should go watch the new movie so we’ll have some eye candy”, your friend winked.

“It’s a date”, you laughed.

You were still waiting for Luke to pick you and your two friends up. But he was late, like he always was. You had lectured him about his tendency to be late countless times. But he could never learn, could he? It was needless to say that you were pissed off. 

Twenty minutes rolled by and Luke finally showed up. He offered his apologies to you and your friends. Your friends had already gone out and got themselves seated in the car, while you and Luke were still inside of your flat. Luke needed hairspray to lock his hair in place. Then Luke made his way to the hallway while you were checking that you had everything necessary with you. That one time you forgot your keys back home still haunted you, hence you had to double-check everything now.

“You got everything?”, Luke held the door open for you and the button of his already opened black and white star-patterned collar shirt popped off. “Oops”, he chuckled to himself. He didn’t bother to fix it. Not when he noticed you basically drooling over him. 

“Yeah”, you answered nonchalantly and avoided eye contact with him. You had been on the edge the whole day and Luke being late didn’t exactly make you feel any better.

“I hate that you’re mad at me, but you look so hot right now”, he smirked at you. Luke was always like this with you. He flirted with you and you flirted back when it felt natural. But since he started to hang around the brunette woman - whose name you didn’t even know - you started to think that maybe you should stop flirting back. But you didn’t know if they were exclusive or not. Luke didn’t exactly bother to open up about the romance department in his life. Not to you anyway. 

“Thanks. I like your hair”, you commented. You noted how he saw you fiddling with your bracelet. It was the one Luke won from Push A Prize that one Saturday night in July. Its pearls were your favorite color, blue.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit too long?”.

“I think it’s good”.

“Just good? Don’t you mean gorgeous? Perfect?”, the blonde rockstar snarked.

“Shut up”, you slapped his hand gently and giggled.

"You okay?", he asked quietly as you were still fiddling with the bracelet.

"Yep, let's go", you gave Luke a small smile and received a nod in return. You took the passenger seat and he sat next to you and fired the engine.

“Took long enough”, one of your friends commented. “Blame Luke and his Prince Charming hair”, you rolled your eyes and looked at your friends in the backseat, and then at the man beside you.

"Geez, thanks for throwing me under the bus", Luke answered sarcastically, tapped the steering wheel with his fingers and turned the music up. Nickelback, of course.

You arrived at Calum’s house. You were walking side to side with the blondie, hand in hand. It was natural. You gravitated towards each other all the time, but you took it as a sign that you felt comfortable with him. Not just anyone could make you feel this way. 

“We’re in public, you know that right?”, you asked him as he was still holding your hand. You couldn't even count the times people mistook you for a couple, and doing these kinds of things that could be seen as couple-y felt a bit odd for you sometimes.

“Yup”, he popped the p and offered you a cheeky grin.

“So why are you still holding my hand?”, you genuinely asked Luke whose eyes were fixated on the crowd of people mingling.

“Don’t want you to get lost. I know you’re bad at taking directions”, he smirked and saw you looking at him with a questionable look. Those words sounded like honey and you hated yourself for it. Oh, only if he wasn’t as charming as he was. It would make everything so much easier for you.

“Right”, you laughed it off and rolled your eyes. It’s not like you haven’t been to Calum’s house a million times before…

“You should wear that dress more often”, he cooed confidently into your ear and let go of your hand. 

“Okay, Mr. Leather Pants”, you laughed and avoided his eye contact. You disappeared into the sea of people and fixed yourself a drink. You didn't really know what to think about Luke's behavior. He was flirtier than usual and you couldn't pinpoint why. The next few hours were spent by dancing with your friends and having conversations with drunken strangers.

—❦

Later, you noticed Luke navigating through the crowd to get to you. He spent a few minutes explaining how his leather boots got stuck in the mud in Europe while touring and how you would have laughed your ass off if you had seen that. Then, the unimaginable happened and he started spinning you around the dance floor. He had always been a fun drunk, that's for sure. He dropped you down carefully from the air and his hands laid comfortably on your waist. But not for long as the upbeat song shifted into a slow one, a shortened version of Give Me Love by Ed Sheeran. Shit.

You wrapped your hands around his neck almost intuitively. “Fuck it, let’s show them how to dance”, you lifted your left eyebrow and thought of how your hands will be sweaty in under a minute. Or twenty seconds, if you were being completely honest.

Luke placed his ring-covered hands, noticeably bigger than yours, back to your waist. “We’re so much better at this than these amateurs”, he looked deeply into your eyes and it felt like he scanned every little feature in your face. It felt intimidating. Being that close to Luke. Being that close with Luke.

“You should definitely consider Dancing with the Stars”, you commented and smiled as you intertwined your fingers behind his neck.

“You reckon?”, his eyes lit up and it's like you could almost see a blush creeping upon his cheeks.

“I see the UK accent has made a mark on you. Has a nice ring to it”, you confessed as you slow danced with your best friend.

“Thanks to you, ms. English Love Affair", Luke gave you a dirty look and chuckled semi-nervously afterwards.

"Oh, you wish", you replied with a nervous giggle and you two continued dancing in silence.

—❦

At 3am the party seems to die out and as usual, Luke walks you to your apartment. About half of the 15 minute walk you have talked about utter nonsense, like how many squirrels Luke saw during the tour and how many latte macchiatos you did during the time he was away.

“Can I ask you a question?", you asked as your heels clacked along the concrete.

“Sure”, Luke answers almost instantly, coughing afterwards.

“You were flirting with me the whole night and…”, you started your monologue which you had planned during the party.

“That’s not a question”, he interrupted and gave you a wink.

“Let me finish, you dumbass”, you answered, your tone being a mixture of playful and irritated.

He zipped his mouth and smiled back at you. You were standing in the front of your apartment, feeling a little cold in the chilly autumn air.

“I just wonder…why?”.

“Don’t we do that, like, all the time?”, he chuckled and stared down at his hands, then scanning your face for a while.

“I guess so, yeah. But it’s innocent. It wasn’t like that today. Or am I crazy? Am I imagining this? Please tell me it was just my imagination, I can- ”, you explained and could already feel how humiliated you'd feel soon.

“I don’t really like to tell you to shut up, but just for once, shhh Y/N. It wasn’t just you”, he took a step closer to you and placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I like you. Definitely have for a while. Maybe the whole time I’ve known you. I like spending time with you. You are the funniest person I know. And you give the best fashion advice. And beneath that sarcastic exterior is such a soft and empathetic soul. You don’t brag about your kindness, which makes it real. And I could talk to you for hours and never get bored. And for you, I would do the dishes happily. Believe it or not, no one has ever managed to bring out that side of me”, he chuckled as you remain speechless. His sudden declaration of love - well maybe not love, interest perhaps - made you grin like a child who just got a new toy.

“And shit, Y/N, I just adore you. And the way your laugh reminds me of home. I lo-, like how you play with your earrings when you are nervous. It’s adorable. And I-”,

“I don’t need to hear a novel of how much you like me, Luke”, you interrupted him.

“I know, but you deserve it”, he spoke softly and his lips turned into the classic Luke smile, which you found incredibly sweet.

“Save it for later”, you took a long look at those eyes that reminded you of the ocean and down to his pink and plump lips which you had dreamt of kissing for so long. 

And then it happened. His lips were pressed against yours, making the time stop for a while. And his hands in your hair, tugging them slightly, not enough to hurt. Your fingers held the waistband of his pants. The way he moved his lips against yours was hungry, desperate, full of emotion he had never been able to release. It was electric, enough to make you release a little moan into his mouth.

“What the fuck is happening here?”, you heard all of the sudden and both of you turned to see none other than the Michael Clifford pressed against the door.

“And what the fuck are you doing in my apartment?”.

© 2023 bloodhoundluke.