#Tw: Physical violence

[republicanidiots]

Nicole Simpson would be 64 years old if Simpson hadn't murdered her.

Fuck mourning OJ Simpson. He was a football player. Nicole was a young woman with children who tried to get away.

Here come the journalists weighing in about OJ Simpson's "complicated history" -- it's not complicated. He killed his wife because she wouldn't take his abuse.

[maladaptiveobsession]

yandere valentino x reader x angel dust

contains: reader w/unspecified genitals, gn reader, nsfw themes, noncon/dubcon, dehumanization, degradation, heavy abuse (brief mentions of physical violence, manipulation, sexual exploitation), dacryphilia, overstimulation

word count: 2,160

It’s not unusual for sinners to throw themselves at Valentino’s feet, but it is the first time the red skies of hell have thrown one directly onto him. The impact sends you both to the ground, collapsing in a startled heap.

He scrambles to throw you off, having every intention to rip you to scraps. Upon lifting your head, he suddenly has grander schemes in mind. His towering figure and lascivious grin send shivers down your spine.

“My, what lovely specimen do we have here? How kind of heaven to send a beauty like yourself directly to me.” His flirtations send blood rushing to your head, making your face grow warmer. You shyly break eye contact, swiveling your head to get a look around. Where is this place?

Valentino must notice your growing confusion and distress, interrupting your thoughts with a low chuckle.

“Welcome to hell, dollface.” Oh, you must be dead. You never thought you were perfect, but you never could’ve imagined you’d go to hell! Where did you go wrong? Suddenly thrust into hell with murderers, rapists, and monsters alike, you wondered if you could die twice.

“Don’t look so down, baby; you’re in luck! There’s no better demon you could’ve crashed into.” He goes on to introduce himself as a powerful overlord with a well-known and successful business.

“I’m feeling awfully generous right now. Why don’t you come work for me? I know just where to put you! You’ll fit right in! I’m sure my patrons will love you too.” He pauses to let you digest the information. “As my employee, you’d be provided housing. I could easily protect you from the creeps and losers on this side of hell. I’ll even forgive you for dirtying my coat! Sounds like a steal, right?”

He takes a long drag from a cigar that you're not sure where came from, then whips out a contract and pen.

“So, how about it, baby?”

Stranded in an unfamiliar place, you easily accept his kindness. As you take hold of the pen, something about his grin makes you uneasy.

If only you read the fine print. So began your life of torment.

What Valentino neglected to mention was that the “successful business” he ran was a porn studio. You spent hours doing photoshoots, films, and shows. Like Valentino suggested, you became his star attraction—the shy and delicate pornstar all of hell’s degenerates thirsted for. Yet they would never get a taste. Valentino didn’t share his personal toys. 

Inexplicably, he couldn’t get enough of you. He wanted to own you the moment he saw your pretty face, drawn to the light in your eyes.

Even with your skin bruised by his fingers and your throat sore from careless treatment, you still desired his rough affection. You didn’t mind that he left you battered each night or his harsh comments when you couldn’t keep up with his demands.

You could even forgive him for cruelly allowing his customers to take advantage of you and fuck you back into submission.

“I said I could protect you; I never said I would. Perhaps you’ll think twice before disobeying in the future.”

You would do anything if it meant receiving his violent devotion.

Being the personal toy of an egomaniacal moth could never be easy, but at least you weren’t alone. You had befriended none other than Valentino’s former favored pornstar, Angel Dust. Despite your differences in character, your shared experiences created a bond neither of you could find anywhere else. Misery always finds company.

Angel felt conflicted upon meeting you. That bastard had finally found a new toy to replace him! His joy only lasted until he heard your voice, so soft and sweet.

Valentino would break you.

Angel dreamed of the day Valentino would grow bored of him and find a new toy to play with. Now that that dream was a reality, he couldn’t push down the guilt. Shouldn’t he feel happy?

There was nothing Angel could do to protect you, but he could give you advice on how to protect yourself.

“Just do what he says. The consequences aren’t worth going against his word.”

He hadn’t planned on getting so close to you; he had tried to scare you off with cruelties, but you never minded. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake you. He tried to keep his distance and went out of his way to avoid you. You must have taken the hint and stopped bothering him like he’d wanted.

He didn’t owe you anything, so why did your absence make him feel worse? Why did he feel like something was missing?

Angel found his answers not long after.

He'd followed the muffled sound of choked sobs to your studio, pausing outside the cracked door. Against his better judgment, he peeked inside.

He’s met with the sight of you huddled in your vanity seat, knees raised to your chest, and your face buried in your arms.

“Doll?”

You raise your head at the sound of Angel’s voice, rushing to wipe away tears. You greet him with the best smile you can manage.

How miserable you must look to him, with smudged mascara and puffy eyes.

“I’m sorry for bothering you so often, Angie.” With how hoarse your voice is, he suspects you’ve been crying for a while. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I just felt so alone, you know?”

He does. He knows better than anyone.

It suddenly occurs to him how much of an asshole he’s been. You didn’t deserve the shit he’s been giving you.

He'd put up walls ever since he signed away his freedom; he couldn’t trust anybody. He thought nobody could understand what kind of shit he’s been through, but then you came along. You do understand because you’re going through it.

You’re all each other has.

“Don’t cry for the bastard. He doesn’t deserve your tears.” You look like you’re about to apologize again, but he continues. “Listen, I’m sorry for being such a douchebag lately. You didn’t do nothing wrong. We’ve only got each other in this shithole.”

You smile brightly, unsure what caused the sudden change in attitude, but happy nonetheless. “Right, together, we’re not alone.”

So began your unlikely friendship.

Unfortunately, Valentino wasn’t nearly as enthused. His obsession grew to new heights when you befriended Angel Dust. This manifested itself in the form of longer studio hours and even rougher sex.

Seeing you get along on set made his blood boil. The final straw was the stupid grin you sent Angel’s way. How dare you flirt with that slut! How dare he grin back!

You both clearly needed to be reminded of your status. Since you liked each other so much, he would be happy to give his blessings. Why, he’d personally see to your union.

Later that evening, you found yourself back on set, blindfolded and gagged. The cold nipped at your bare skin. Valentino kept the studios cold to keep your nipples perked. The handcuffs keeping your hands pinned to the bed post provided little comfort.

The sound of the film crew setting up around you sent heat to your sex. You couldn’t swallow the feeling of disgust residing in your throat; how could you enjoy this? Even amongst the buzz of conversations, you could easily pick out the click of Valentino’s healed boots. You wait for the familiar call to begin filming, yet you do not find it.

It’s only when a pair of hands, strangely familiar, find their way to your chest that you realize the set began. The whole situation strikes you as strange, but what could you do anyhow? Nothing would change the outcome. In the end, all you’d receive for your curiosity would be a nasty bruise.

So you brush off your worries and focus on the sensation of soft hands groping at your chest, teasing your nipples. You can’t help but lean into their gentle touches; the familiarity comforting.

The way they glide across your skin—as if searching—you wonder if they’re blindfolded too. Shivers run across your spine as they spread your legs, the cool air kissing your core. The bed shifts as your film partner settles between your thighs, their hands never leaving you.

Fingers prod at your entrance, sinking in easily. Your head spins at the sudden intrusion. As they finger and stretch your hole, you struggle to maintain composure. Each motion was intentional and practiced. You could feel the slick gather below you in a thick puddle. Somehow, they knew how to work you just right.

Droplets of pre-cum smeared against your skin as their cock brushed up against your thigh.

Unable to wait any longer, you tried lifting your hips away from their fingers. You wanted more; you wanted to be filled.

Your desire clouded any creeping shame or embarrassment. You never wanted this; why shouldn’t you enjoy the pleasure being given?

The hand lingering on your hip stills you with surprising strength; another set of hands you didn’t know they had pushes your thighs up to your chest. Desire clouds your thoughts, never once questioning the owner of said hands.

They guide their cock to your entrance, driving it in without warning—the sudden stretch takes your breath away. Though easier to accommodate than Valentino’s, you still find yourself pushed past your limits.

Little time is given to adjust; their pace is rough but controlled. Waves of pleasure burn through you. 

Your moans and pleas are swallowed up by the gag. Tears of pleasure and pain gather in your eyes, darkening the fabric of your blindfold. It hurts so good; the intensity building in your core threatens to snap. A particularly rough thrust sends powerful shockwaves throughout your body.

They shudder against you, their pace stuttering for only a brief moment. They were too busy changing their own bliss. You writhe against your binds as the heat within tightens once more, all too soon. Your pleas for clemency are muffled.

Valentino watches with great interest, languidly stroking his own length as you're brought back to the edge of pleasure. You were so sensitive and expressive.

His favorite slut being forced to use his personal toy wasn’t a sight he thought he’d enjoy. He’d initially been reluctant, only convinced by the masses demanding your collaboration.

Now he couldn’t wait for the reveal—to see the despair of fucking your only friend. Commanding his toys to fuck like dolls was fun; maybe he’d do it again some time.

He watched closely as Angel’s hips stuttered, pace becoming erratic, and fingers pressing deep into your thighs. The heat of his climax sends you over the edge. With your ears ringing and your heart pounding, you feel dizzy. Darkness swallows up your vision.

Valentino makes note of your limpness, suddenly struck by an idea. He strides over to Angel, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice you flirting with my toy?” He didn’t miss the way Angel tenses. “Well, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Wasting no time, he wrenched the blindfold off.

Angel’s reaction is more than he’d hoped for. Horror and disgust flash in his eyes as he scrambles to pull out of you. He tumbled off the bed in his urgency and crumpled at Val’s feet in despair.

Angel can feel his stomach in his throat, panis rising.

“Aw, did you not like my gift?” Valentino mocks him, relishing in the pitiful display. “Well, too bad. Pick yourself up and get ready to do it again.”

For a moment, Angel is unresponsive. He has to do that all over again? He has to violate you? He can’t do that to you; it would break you.

Buzzing under the thick layer of disgust creeps darker desires: to touch and tease your skin, to sink into your warmth. To do it all over again.

He doesn't notice the way his dick responds, but Valentino certainly does. How unexpected!

“Holy shit, are you hard again? Does the thought of raping your friend turn you on that much? I wonder what your friend will think?” He can taste your fear and anguish already. “Let’s not waste any time, then.”

Angel's fear is palpable and thick. He doesn’t want to lose you. When you open your eyes, the little sanctuary you've built together will never be the same.

You should feel something, but you can only feel empty as your only friend splits you open against both of your wills. Averting his eyes, he rocks into you. Valentino’s voice hardly registers at all. 

“Don’t act so shy, Angelcakes. Go on, fuck them with your eyes like you usually do. If I don’t see some eye contact, there will be consequences for your dearest friend.”

With your eyes connected, you can’t pretend anymore. This is happening. This is real. 

You only have each other, but together you created a nightmare you can’t escape. At least you’re not alone—closer than you’ve ever been.

[kit-williams]

Consequences

Male Lead: Konrad Curze/Solruthis Uadasha/The Night Haunter (Sol being his nickname) Female Lead: Reader/Sorsollia (sun that illuminates)

I'm sorry I love Zalgo text a lot it says HIS

tw: yandere, broken bones, physical assault, torture

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog

Another successful compliance! As they didn't receive as much fighting as he had forseen but he was certain that would please Sorsollia. The smile on his face disappears seeing another scribe there waiting for him... you were the main scribe they were to collect when he had to do these frivolous talks of what he had done.

The other scribe bows their head and he feels a sense of anger... perhaps disgust that someone else is here... but he swallows the feeling and gets the talk over with. As they are packing up their tablet he stops them. "Where is Sorsollia?"

There is an upturn in their heartbeat, "She hasn't been feeling well. I don't know what she is sick with all I know is that she's off rotation for some time." LIAR his mind hisses but he knows his Sorsollia will be displeased if the only other Scribe that he has 'dained to be in his presence is dismissed.

"Thank you." He dismisses them as he sits and broods. His Sorsollia is alive... he would have been told otherwise. So he simply waits for a few hours... and waits... and waits... and waits. Sorsollia does not come... she does not message... there is silence... and Solruthis Usdasha does not like this.

He moves with the flickering lights... they turn off long enough for him to move to the next hall... to cram himself into the next crevice. Humans are surprisingly unaware creatures though many are Nostroman he passes... he frowns as he heads into the part of the ship that is inhabited by those who do not like it being so dark. Here the prey tends to act skittish... as he watches how one person turns on their heels when they see the hallway lights flicker hiding his movements. The soft nope from their lips would normally make him smile but he is on a mission.

He could easily also push himself into the service halls and move around that way but no... this is his ship and he can slink about how ever he pleases. He comes to her door pushing his thumb over the reader and overriding her locks... after all it is his ship he is the skeleton key.

He moved with unnatural quietness into her abode; spacious given her rank it had two rooms compared to the typical singular room. His ears moved as he heard her pained hiss.

Sorsollia winced as she dabbed the cotton ball against the cut on her forehead her non dominant arm in a sling as her broken wrist was splinted. Most of the swelling on her face had gone down just leaving the ugly bruising. She sniffled hard feeling herself want to tear up and cry again, her eyes went up freezing as there was someone- "Sol?" Her voice cracked as she turned around.

The fearful beating of her heart died as he knew that rushing hopeful beat. His mind was terrifyingly silent as he took a step closer... as he gently grabbed her face and turned her toward him... it was so quiet when he looked over her face... someone had beaten his Sorsollia. Someone had harmed his Sorsollia while he was away. His eyes look at her broken wrist and splinted fingers too he knew a threat he knew what a threat to someone's livelyhood looked like. His thumb absentmindedly wiping away the tears rolling down her cheeks as her legs give way and she lets out a dispared wail. A wail that normally excites him... and oh how it still excited him in a different way. He pulls her out of the small room of the bathroom and holds her close. "Oh my Sorsollia what happened? Did the head scribe order this?" His voice suddenly went cold at the thought of someone abusing her because they were on a power trip.

"No! No... no... no... I don't-"

"Don't lie to me. Sorsollia you know I don't like lying. Don't protect the scum." He snarls holding her tightly, "They must be punished... I am a Primarch no one-"

"I don't know who they were." She sobs into his chest afraid of the repercussions but her Sol was there. "They came to me when you were gone. They didn't tell me who they worked for but to only edit a few documents to make their lord look better. I assume they were thugs for some noble. Because one of them had to have been one... because I talked back to him I was too comfortable in my position working for you because they didn't like a scribe talking back to them." Her voice strained at the end as the tears ran harder. "They knew which hand was my dominant one... so they broke my wrist of the other one to send a message." She was so very ugly when she cried... utterly distressed and distraught.

"And you still told them no?" He probes.

"They told me that they would be back and to use this time to consider it." She hiccups softly.

"When they come back I want you to agree." He says holding her. "I'll make sure I find out who they are and who their employer is." He whispers to her as she sobs into his shirt. Solruthis Uadasha finally truly comes out... there has been a great injustice inflicted upon his charge... upon his Sorsollia. And he will make them pay.

She was withdrawn... hardly holding the name Sorsollia but he played his role just as she did. They stayed apart as he played the distant ruler and not the attentive lover and she hardly needed goading into her role of the cowed submissive. He held her the night he came back... as she was tired and sleep wasn't coming to her... she was afraid and clung to him but for now she was by herself.

Konrad leaned back on his throne as the chirping of the small cogitatior he planted in her room. His impassive face split into an insane grin as he watches how the three... no four, his eyes spy the man at the door, "faceless" mooks walk with such false swagger. His nails dig into his seat as her arm is grabbed and Sorsollia collapses to her knees trying to get her wounded arm free. Konrad had sat and tended to her wounds to soothe her as she had been living in such sweet fear for days.

His dark eyes narrow at the hand touching his Sorsollia far too affectionately. Konrad gritted his teeth in that manic grin feeling the teeth chipping before healing. But once they were gone he quickly collected his Sorsollia taking the document they wanted her to improve and the name of the noble that had the AUDACITY to threaten what was H̷̨̭́̿Ḭ̴̏̕S̷̢͇̐. He hid her away in his room as Solrithis Uadasha got to work.

The lookout lay dead and blind... his tongue shredded to ribbons as they went down without saying anything. His torture felt much like an afterthought much just like their role in all of this. The two guards who had beaten and broken his Sorsollia's wrist he was careful in the application of pressure and pulling away... breaking more and more of their bones and perhaps like a Drukhari he twisted their useless limbs into unnatural shapes as the two bleated for death and each day he brought them closer and closer with more and more bones breaking and each day they did not expire he continued to crush and twist.

The lower noble who felt so big to be perhaps within the fucked up standards of society be able to get away with beating the personal scribe of a Primarch. Perhaps he had the right.... perhaps he did... but unfortunately for him he picked the wrong Primarch to try and get away with this crime. He had cut off the hand that he had dared touch what was his and was slowly peeling it bit by bit and feeding the flesh back to him.

Sorsollia was far too kind for her own good... he'd have to see what the laws from where she was were like... He pushed the flesh into the mans mouth grinning. "You know she said that the sins of the father don't pass on." He laughed, it was a hideous laugh one of disbelief that he held affection for someone so blind to the cruelty of the universe. And yet he hesitated to rip the veil from her eyes because once he did that... he was certain she would see the disgusting creature that he was. He craved her affection... he craved her attention... he craved her seeing him as a man. She couldn't be blind to everything... she was a legion scribe... she knew the methods.

There was a nasty thought planted in his mind now... the paranoia and mistrust rearing its ugly head... he left the torture room unable to find satisfaction in conducting the punishments until he figured out why. "Sorsollia." He said entering the room wiping the blood from his hands as she paused what she was listening too looking over at him from the lit corner of his room.

"Yes?"

"I need to know something." He walked over.

"Of course I live to serve." She said with a genuine smile but that only heightened his paranoia.

"Why did you want to work for my legion? We are perhaps the most cruel ones... and you had personally applied."

"I had personally applied for both your legion and the blood angels." Her lips became a thin line as she thought of words, "While I don't agree with the methods you employ... your rate of compliance compared to the body count is a good ratio. Um..."

"Speak."

"I just don't agree with it... but it leans more into the necessary evil. Not that you are evil Sol." Sorsollia quickly adds, "Just all of this... the great crusade... perhaps there is a selfishness in my part for hoping that I'm on the correct side of history... instead of simply being a conscientious objector... that maybe this will all be worth it in the end. But what do I know of war and combat... I'm just a helpless Scribe." She says looking at her wrist, "I chose you for the low ratio of bodies to compliance."

"And Sanguninius?" He says not betraying the way his hearts were twisting at the thought of his Sorsollia being in the Great Angel's company... being his Scribe. Konrad wants to claw his scalp at the anxiety that bubbles over at the thought of her being enamored with the perfect angel.

"I've heard he is kind. He gives many chances to accept the imperium's generous offer... but I've heard that the Blood Angels can be... scary. " She nervously laughs, "Me talking about how scared I am of the Blood Angels when I work for the Night Lords. I probably sound stupid..." He's noticed since she's been attacked how critical of herself she has been.

He pulls her into his arms his long fingers combing through her hair, "Sorsollia." He listens for her hum, "In a couple of days this will all be over. I want you to return to being yourself."

The pitying smile she gave him nearly had him snarling, "You're very bad at comforting but I appreciate the attempt. Just..." Her voice sounded so small, "Please promise me this won't happen again? Just... I thought I was safe and-" Her voice breaks as tears flow.

Giving her his child would let everyone know who she was... it would make sure no one would touch her... He kisses away her tears, "Shhh Sorsollia I swear upon one of my hearts that it won't happen again."

That gets her to smile, "If I'm keeping track that means you've sworn on both of your hearts so far."

"So it is. I've already taken care of the thugs that hurt you. They've been punished."

She just nods and hides her face in his chest, "I should probably go back to my room."

"One more day Sorsollia. You slept so fitfully last sleeping cycle... it would make me worry to find out you've been struggling to sleep. And I need to make sure you are comfortable so your wrist and fingers heal."

"Okay Sol. One more night." She sighs happily just feeling that she'll soon be able to put this all behind her. For Konrad he was thinking of what he was going to do to the noble who was so eager to get the Primarch's gaze... oh the dark grin on his face as he certainly had it now. He gave his Sorsollia a kiss on the forehead and swore that the sparkle to her eyes was slowly returning and that made his hearts sing.

[sortofanobsession]

Beyond Frustration (Buddie AU)

I was going through old works and drafts and this idea wasn't exactly requested but it jumped out at me. And figured I hadn't done an Alpha Beta Omega in a while. May do a part 2 if anyone wants it.

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911 Masterlist

Summary: Lawsuit Era A/B/Ω AU where Alpha Eddie marks and bonds Omega Buck after Buck was trapped under the truck. The lawsuit puts their bond, and unknowingly to Eddie, their unborn child, at risk. Eddie learns how big of a mistake he has made in almost the worst way possible. Almost.

Paring: Alpha!Eddie Diaz/Omega!Evan "Buck" Buckley

Word count: 2k+

Content Warning: Anger, Neglect, Hospitalization, A/B/Ω mpreg, Fear, physical violence (Eddie gets slapped), Fear of Miscarriage, High Risk Pregnancy.

Eddie's inner alpha clawed at him as they left the deposition. And all it did was piss him off further. Buck had told that asshole things he'd sworn to keep to himself. The alpha had seen the way his omega's betrayal hurt the whole team. The team that was also very much their pack. Their family. But his alpha clawed at him. He didn't understand why it was acting like that. His mate had betrayed them and their pack. The mate he had taken care of and protected after the omega was injured in the bombing. The one he had bared his soul to and bonded with. No, his inner alpha may be driven by the baser instinct to be with his mate at any cost, but Eddie wasn't going to give in. He should have known better, especially after what happened with Shannon. Shannon had been the mother of his pup. And then came back just to ruin his life again. He had tried to make it work for his secondary nature. To have a real family, a true pack. And that had gone to shit. He'd let his alpha nature trick him again. But fool him once and all that bs. He wasn't going to give in a third time. No.

Buck was struggling. It wasn't unheard of for an omega to be a single parent. But it was well known that a strong bond and loving relationship for a mated omega was ideal. A bonded omega, separated from their mate, especially an alpha mate, under great stress, and being a somewhat rare male omega, was a high risk pregnancy in the making.

During a shift Eddie's inner alpha goes damn near feral. Something is wrong and he knows it. But Eddie had been suppressing his secondary nature for so long, even using medication to further subdue it, his alpha isn't strong enough to make Eddie's more stubborn and supposedly logical side understand. And Eddie does not realize how big a mistake he has made until he gets a terrifying call from Christopher. Carla had gotten a call from the hospital. Buck was not well. And since Carla was the only contact Buck had allowed them to reach out to. Eddie finally realizes what his alpha had been trying to tell him over the last few hours. His alpha nature has been reacting to the bond the shared with his mate. Eddie was just too numb to feel it. And that was a terrifying thought. As mad as he and the others were with the no contact order because of the lawsuit, they still had the slight comfort that Eddie would know if something happened to Buck. When Eddie tells them about the phone call they rush to the hospital.

The second Eddie steps into the hospital he is met with a hard slap. He recoils at first and nearly lashes out when he realizes it’s Maddie. His mate’s beta sister.

“You were supposed to protect him!” She shouts at the alpha. Before Eddie can say anything she has turned her ire on the captain. “You too!” She looks from face to face, every member of the 118. “All of you! You told him he was family! That you would be there for him!”

“Maddie,” Chimney starts but she turns on her heels and disappears behind a set of doors.

The receptionist stone walls them when they try to get any information. Eddie can feel his inner alpha suffering. Eddie was so close to his mate he could just start to feel him. His omega's scent had clung to Maddie. And it tore at the alpha’s heart.

“Eddie,” Carla says as she meets them.

“If you're here, where is Christopher?” Bobby asks. As upset as the captain and his inner alpha was he knew it was nothing compared to what Eddie was feeling. Guilt and fear clouded Eddie's usual scent. Bobby could understand that. The captain had lost a mate before. He knew the panic not knowing created. Eddie wasn't in his right mind now.

“He's with Buck, since they had a sort of bond they hoped it would help. Maddie too.”

“Did it?” Hen asks.

“He's stable, but there is something I need to tell you…”

Eddie hates himself. He would never forgive himself for what he had done. He would grovel and beg Buck to forgive him. He prays to any higher power that would listen to let him fix this. To not take his family from him. He couldn't lose his mate. It would destroy him. He'd spend the rest of his life begging his pups to forgive him. He'd be there for every major milestone for both Christopher and their unborn miracle, if they let him. He was a mess by the time they reached Buck’s room. Maddie glared at the alpha as he entered.

Christopher made his way over to Eddie and buried his face in his father's shirt. Eddie drops to his knees.

“I'm sorry, buddy, I'm so sorry,” the alpha begs. “This never should have happened.”

Once Christopher had calmed down, Carla took him out into the hall to go see the rest of the team.

Maddie leaves to call her parents. She glares at the alpha as she does. The alpha goes over and carefully takes the omega's hand in his. The barely there curve of his pregnant mate’s stomach breaks something in the alpha. It wasn’t prominent, but he had known Buck's body as well as he knew his own. And he could see it now. He doesn't know how he could have missed it at the deposition. Even the omega's scent smelled sweeter. Had his anger clouded his senses that much? He now understands why his inner alpha had been so distressed that day. His pregnant mate was just a few feet from him and he couldn't go to him. The omega had looked so tired and sad, but Eddie had been too bitter to see what the entire situation had been doing to his mate. And Eddie could see it now. Buck was too thin, too pale, for a pregnant omega. He looks fragile and broken. And Eddie just wanted to crawl in the bed beside him. He wanted to scent his mate. Hold him. Do whatever he needed to repair their fragile bond. But before he can do anything but take a shattered breath a woman in a lab coat walks in. She's a beta that smells overly sterile.

“He's sedated,” she says before she even introduces herself. Once she has she levels the alpha with a weary look. “You are his mate, correct? His alpha?”

Eddie nods, barely trusting his voice. “Y-yeah, yes, I am.”

“His sister said you two are bonded, correct?”

“Yes,” Eddie answers, his hand gripping Buck's a bit tighter as he does.

The doctor nods and after making a note in the omega's file she checks Buck’s vitals and compares them to his chart and updates it. Eddie watches her carefully. Only when she is done does she give the alpha any attention again.

“How are they?” Eddie manages to ask.

“He is stable and his condition is slowly improving.”

“So they're okay?”

“As a medically trained first responder, I'm sure you can understand the gravity of the situation at hand,” the doctor starts.

Eddie nods but hopes that by saying nothing the doctor will actually answer his question.

“Did you know about your mate's condition?”

“No,” Eddie half sobs. “I had no idea.”

“Okay,” the doctor says and seems to be considering something before she speaks again. “In cases of neglect like this there is a full investigation,” she says and the alpha has to sit down because to have it put so bluntly was jarring.

“Whatever needs to happen, just please, don't make me leave.”

“Oh as his bonded mate you need to stay, it may be the only thing that keeps his condition from worsening. But I have to legally inform you that your behavior will be heavily monitored and any signs of distress will be dealt with in whatever manner we deem necessary, which may include asking you to leave, and getting the authorities involved if necessary. And if your mate or his family wish to seek legal action, we are obligated to assist them.”

“I don't care what you have to do, I’ll do anything,” Eddie insists. “I just want him to be okay.”

The doctor seems to study the alpha for a full minute.

“I believe you, Mr. Diaz,” she finally says. “And I trust that you being here will not worsen the situation. And if it does that you will act accordingly. I understand that there have been some strenuating circumstances in this particular case. I hope for your sake, and your mate's, that things only get better from here. We will be keeping a close eye on him.”

The doctor excuses herself after that. And what little control Eddie has on his emotions fails. He buries his face in his mate's neck and sobs. He is nothing without Buck. He isn't even a good dad these days without him. He's been trying, but Christopher is still suffering from the after effects of the tsunami and not having his Buck there has made it all the more difficult. The omega had been with him during the terrible experience. It had made the bond the two already had stronger. And Eddie had denied both of them that much needed connection. He was a failure as an alpha. He was a failure as a father. Worst of all, he was a failure as a mate. He neglected his bond and his bonded mate and it nearly cost him everything. He could have lost both his mate and the unborn pup he didn't even know existed. Now that he knows he can't possibly let go. The only reason he would ever leave now was if Buck wanted him to. If his mate couldn't forgive him, the alpha would understand. Eddie sure as hell wasn't ever going to forgive himself.

Eddie wakes up to fingers in his hair and he almost doesn't want to move, but as he inhales the chemically tainted smell of his mate he remembers where he is and why he is there. His head snaps up and he looks into the tired blue eyes of his mate.

“Buck,” is all the alpha manages to say in a broken tone. The numbness that he had felt the past few days gone as the wave of emotions hit him. He can feel their bond again. And it shatters something in him. “I'm sorry.” It's half sobbed and shaken.

Buck had woken up to a weight on his arm that hadn't been there before. The more he thinks, the more he realizes it was a familiar weight. Paired with a feeling he had longed for. His eyes tear up as he inhales and takes in the familiar scent of his mate, but there is something off about it. It has the omega opening his eyes. His alpha is distressed. And yeah, that tracks. The omega blinks tears away as he looks around the hospital room. He has no idea how long he has been there, but by the way Eddie is passed out curled against him it had been a while. And he let his tears fall because Eddie was there. His mate had not only come to his bedside, but was pressed against his side like any distance between was unbearable. After so long without his mate, and now his senses were flooded with him, the omega finally felt some semblance of home. He felt complete again. His hands itched to feel that electricity he always felt when they touched. His hands card through the alpha's unkempt mess of hair.

The omega’s heart clenches at the the sheer level of pain and devastation in the alpha’s voice. Buck gets a real good look at his partner’s face and he looks so raw and broken that the omega wants nothing more than to make things better. But Buck can't forget the reason they are there. His eyes move to his own stomach. Before he can even voice his fears, fears Eddie must feel through their bond, the alpha’s hand rubs along the sheet covered swell.

“Pup’s all right,” Eddie says, his voice now filled with conviction. The alpha's voice is in Buck's ear. The omega can feel the heat of his mate's hand through the fabric on his stomach. The combined sensation and the renewed feelings coursing through him sends a shiver down his spine and sends his heart soaring. It must show in his heart monitor at the way the alpha beside him chuckles. It nearly doubled when he feels Eddie's lips gently brush across the bonding mark on the omega's neck. The feeling of love and safety he has missed for weeks is damn near overwhelming.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie tells him again. And between the look on the alpha's face and the feeling of guilt that flows through their bond has Buck believing him. Combined with the omega's heightened emotions and hormones, Buck couldn't imagine holding any of it against the alpha. Not really.

“I know,” Buck tells him, his own tone a little sad. It's sad, because this whole situation could have been avoided if they had just tried to talk. And he thinks Eddie must feel the same way at the way the alpha’s hand shifts from rubbing the omega's swollen belly to pulling Buck closer to him. And Buck goes willing shifting until his back is flush against the alpha's chest. The alpha protectively curled around him.

“I love you, you know that right? More than anything in the world,” Eddie says.

“Except Christopher,” Buck corrects.

“I love him and this little one,” Eddie states, his hand gently pressing against the swell of the unborn pup. “But that's a different kind of love,” the alpha insists.

The omega swoons a bit at that. He had spent the last few weeks terrified of Eddie rejecting not just him but the pup as well. The relief that Eddie still loved him and wanted him, but that he wanted their pup too was amazing. That the alpha was happy to not just claim the pup as his but say he already loved them. It was like having a large weight removed from the omega's shoulders. That fear had been like an albatross around his neck. And Eddie must feel it all through the bond because, again, Eddie holds him tighter. The alpha’s lips press against the skin behind the omega's ear.

“I'm here now. Not going anywhere.”

The alpha holds the omega as he cries but it doesn't last long. Because Buck is still exhausted and Eddie is warm. The omega is more comfortable and feels better than he has in weeks, maybe months. Buck falls asleep sheltered in his mate's arms.

The alpha tenses as the door opens. The former army medic might hate having his back to the door but the alpha was protectively curled around his pregnant mate. That was way more important than his own comfort.

“Well, don't you two look cozy,” the nurse, a lovely middle aged omega, says as she comes in.

“He woke up for a bit, but fell back asleep,” Eddie tells her as she goes to check the machines. The alpha goes to move to get up so she can check Buck’s vitals but she waves him off.

“You're fine,” she smiles. “The closer you stay the quicker the bond can help him feel better.” She gently checks Buck's pulse and nods.

“I’ll let the doctor know he was awake for a bit,” she says before leaving. Once she is gone he looks over at the clock. It early, but not too early that his pack would be mad at him texting them. As much as he hates the idea of moving from his comfortable spot, he needs his phone which is charging on the table next to the bed. Eddie gets up, stretching as he does. Buck whines in his sleep at the loss and rolls over as if to chase the alpha's fading warmth. It makes the alpha’s heart flutter. He quickly grabs his phone and returns to the bed. Buck now curled into his side with his face tucked in the alpha's neck. Eddie's inner alpha was happier than it had been since the pair bonded at the feel of the omega's bump against his side. And the feeling was heady. The alpha just wants to sit there and bask in the feeling of home that came from watching his vulnerable and trusting mate sleeping in his arms. But he knows he has a number of unanswered messages to deal with. So he silently, and slowly only having one hand to type with, lets Maddie, Carla, and the team know that Buck was doing better. He had woken up for a bit, but was resting now.

They had a lot they needed to sort out, but they would do it together. Lawsuit be damned. His mate and their family was now Eddie's primary focus. And he wasn't willingly going anywhere any time soon. Not unless Buck wanted him to. Even then the alpha wouldn't like it. He loved Buck too much to walk away now. He loved the family they had made. He was sure the others would understand.

When he was done with the messages he settled back down beside his mate and closed his eyes. He would dream of the life they were only just starting as a family, as a pack.

[gifsofstar]

1.09 || 1.11 || 1.12

[lxvenderhxzehv]

Kindness Taken Weakness ~ Teddy and Toni an Event Self-Para

Teddy felt like he was right where he had started a few weeks ago. Sitting with a drink in his hand.

Trying to calm his nerves as best as he could. He had never reacted like that before, but seeing Kirby with Knightley like that had triggered some sort of panic in him. Some sort of hurt that he had never felt before. Heartbreak perhaps, that confirmation of fear that would come with telling Kirby how he felt and they wouldn’t like him back. He was glad that he had been with Zarina when the attack had struck. He would never have known what to do if he had been alone. He finally pulled away from her. Explaining that he just wanted to be alone and couldn't pretend anymore and that she didn't have to help him make Kirby Jealous. It wasn't working anyway. He was too mentally drained to put on a show. He didn't care if Kirby had seen his panic attack unfold and to be quite frank he didn't care if he hadn't seen Kirby for the rest of the Event. His heart couldn’t take it. He sat at one of the pop-up bars along main street. It was pretty quiet until he heard the clanking of chains on the seat next to him. He turned to greet them but groaned when he saw who it was.

Toni was enjoying the festival, Mylene had taken up most of his attention which he didn’t mind. I really liked her and was happy she was enjoying their time together. Toni was always the observant kind so when he heard a bit of commotion over to the side he had pulled away from Myles telling her he’d be back in a moment.  He had witnessed the whole thing unfold in real time. He had seen Teddy steal a glance over at Kirby. Only to see them with Knightley. Toni saw within seconds Teddy lose almost all color in his face and his breathing became labored.

With Teddy off to the side and out of his costume. Zarina, who Toni was confused to see with Teddy to begin with. Had seemed to handle the situation as best as she could. Giving to what was Toni's understanding that this was Teddy's first ever Panic Attack. He had always known Teddy to be pretty confident and not self-aware or even aware enough in general to even have Anxiety. Teddy was the golden boy and had it all.

He followed Teddy when he ran off. Just far enough away so that he wouldn't notice. Part of him wanted to genuinely make sure that Teddy was okay. Another however wanted to ruffle some feathers. Just for fun, He was already not liked much by many of his peers. There were only a few individuals who seemed to actually like him and his company. He was growing bored of that and even being at the commune, though he would never say these things out loud. He tried to be discreet but was given away by the metal on his costume.

"You look like Hell Mi Amigo!" He began, trying to make light of the situation.

“I'm not really in the mood for anything right now Toni” Teddy shifted in his seat. He took a sip from his glass trying not to give Toni the attention he wanted. “What do you want?” Shit.

Toni shrugged “Nothing, just wanted to check on a fellow Huntsville resident. We have to look out for each other.“ He patted Teddy back. ”We've both been stuck here a lot longer than most of these people“ He then sat back on his stool, slumping almost and crossed his arms. “I can't believe I'm about to say this but I finally agree with Kirby.” Teddy furrowed his brows at him in disbelief. Was Toni sick? Was he in trouble? Was the world ending again? Teddy was already annoyed. Now it was growing at the mention of Kirby and the commune.

“you shouldn't move into the commune…” Toni finally said simply. “Can't have you panicking at the sight of Kirby and Knightly all the time now can't we?” His smile was smug. Of course he had seen Teddy's Panic Attack. Teddy tightened the grip on his glass.

“Though, now we know why you shouldn't move in, now we need to figure out why Kirby doesn't Want you to move in” He tilted his head “Do they know how upset you get by just seeing them with someone else?” Teddy shook his head looking down at his glass “hmm well maybe deep down they know you're too sensitive to see all the HookUps they get themselves wrapped up in '' Teddy downed the rest of his drink. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. He was still recovering from the panic attack. His mind was still a bit foggy, he was exhausted and the drink he had wasn't helping. However it made the pain of the heartbreak bearable.

”Kirby can hook up with whoever the fuck they want to…“ He snipped with a groan and Toni shook his head. “I’m not his keeper.” Teddy regretted the words as she spoke them. 

“And that is what a good friend does. Put their feelings above everyone else's” He praised with a soft smile. “you're always so selfless, Teddy. Unlike Kirby, Just so selfish and a bad friend…..” That snapped Teddy back. He raised a brow at Toni. he turned to face him sitting up to make himself bigger than Toni. Which wasn’t hard to do. But he was on the defense.

“I think you best stop talking” Sure Teddy was upset. He would never speak poorly of Kirby. They were a good friend to Teddy. And they set a boundary. In turn Teddy respected it, no questions asked. It wasn't his boundary to question nor was it any of Toni's business.

“You're a grown man Teddy and your life is being dictated by someone in their 20s!” The pain hit Toni before he realized what was happening. Teddy was suddenly a lot taller, Toni's jaw stung and the inside of his mouth suddenly felt warm. Teddy had actually punched him. Took a good ole swing at him and knocked him to the ground.

”how fucking dare you Toni!“ teddy barked, looming over Toni as he stood up to his full height. ”We've both told you to fuck off multiple times! Now stop psychoanalyzing our friendship!“ Toni propped himself up on his elbows spitting blood from his mouth. ”It's so painfully obvious you have feelings for them.“ He rolled his eyes. ”You'll Only Keep getting hurt Teddy. The more their body count increases the more your confidence decreases.“ He spat. ”Look at me and tell me I'm wrong Teddy. As everyday passes you worry it's never going to happen for you two or something is going to get in the way.” He smirked ” With people like Me, Knightley, and Z to hook up with at the commune, why did you really think they would pick Just you? You’re nothing special”

Teddy picked Toni up with ease and carried him over to a nearby building and pinned him to the wall. Yes, maybe Teddy knew deep down he wasn't good enough for Kirby. Knightley was the stable, more practical choice. Even Z was a better choice for Kirby. But TONI? This sad excuse for a leader? Second in command? even Teddy was beginning to question him. He had to be lying just to get under his skin. A way to get Teddy to admit his feelings for Kirby.

"Toni you lift like paper, I'll throw you in the trash like paper too if you don't SHUT. UP." He warred letting go of the man finally turning to walk away. But Toni never listened very well.

 "It wasn't all that difficult to hook up with them...Kirby certainly knows what he wants. More than I can say for you...." Teddy didn't hesitate and took one final blow at Toni hitting him in the nose before walking away and leaving him to suffer alone.

[criticalcrux]

@icybreaths asked:

“I just don’t want to be another piece in their game, you know?“ [for grimmjow]

Like hell he was listening. All of her words may as well have been gibberish at the speed he was moving.

"AHAhahahaaha! Save yer breath, soul reaper!"

There's a swift kick; a direct connect to her rib cage and a deathly accurate blow. Sending her flying back some large distance. Away.

[c-ones-adults-only-club]

Chapter 7: Out of the frying pan…

Summary: The plan begins to step forward.

Ola is removed from her cell…

TW: violence, blood and physical injury.

Link to chapter 6

The early morning light spilled through the shattered window, a chill breeze slipping through the breach. Savage stretched as he woke, twisting around to sit upright in the chair he occupied, breathing deeply through his nose and dragging in the crisp, dusty smell that seemed to permeate everything here.

He turned his attention to his brother, who remained kneeling on his sleep mat. His whole body radiated tension and disquiet, his expression contorted into one of unease and disturbance.

He hadn’t moved since Savage had brought him back to the tent the night before.

The sight of his usually stoic and controlled brother lost to disquietude and agitation, eyes wide and focussed on something Savage couldn’t see, rambling and snarling too himself… it reminded him all too much of the half-crazed and twisted form of the Maul he’d found on Lotho Minor.

And the cry he’d let out before collapsing to his knees… it had been chilling. Anguished. Tortured.

“This vision…Savage, I feel it is a warning.” His already heavy brow dropped in a frown.

A warning. From the Force? About the future? Was it something predetermined, or was it something that could be avoided?

Something was niggling, gnawing at the back of his mind, making his gut twist. A sensation he’d only ever felt once, when the Nightsisters had come to his village, and had taken him away.

The day before he’d lost Feral.

The day before she’d forced him to kill his brother. The one he'd sworn he'd always protect.

That very same sensation disturbed him now. Ever since they’d joined forces with this Death Watch. He didn’t trust them. He didn’t trust them at all.

“They are going to betray us.” Savage blinked and focussed on his brother. Maul opened his eyes, returning his gaze. Savage was glad to see that the almost hysterical shine from the night before had vanished from his acrid yellow eyes, and Maul’s expression had returned to its usual cold aloofness.

“Yes, we already know this brother.” Maul huffed, relaxing his posture.

“Today, Savage. They are going to betray us today.”

“You have had another vision?” Savage asked, cocking his head to the side. Maul hummed.

“Not quite. A feeling. A certainty.” The larger Zabrak jumped to his feet, the Nightsister magic coursing through his blood elevating his already inherent need for combat.

“Then we should strike first! Crush them before they have the chance!” Maul’s chuckle cut off his rant before it could truly start.

“Patience, Apprentice. Do not forget the plan.” Savage grumbled and huffed. He breathed deeply, allowing himself to calm.

Sometimes, he cursed the magic that had transformed him. While it had brought him greater power and strength, it stripped away his level-headedness when anger took him.

And anger seemed to take him a lot these days.

“Yes, brother,” he said simply. Maul hummed, standing in one fluid motion. He strode towards the larger Zabrak, his arms loosely held behind his back.

“We shall allow him and his Death Watch to do as they please. Any action they make today will ultimately lead to their own downfall. Remember our endgame, my Apprentice.” Savage didn’t like it, but could only agree.

Something still felt off.

“I understand.” Maul nodded once, before he turned to the door.

“Come, Savage. Let us meet our fate.” Savage grinned, a deep chuckle resonating in his chest as he fell into step behind his powerful brother, following him out into the morning air.

…………………

Maul and Savage entered the complex, and immediately felt that something was afoot.

Pre Vizsla stood in the centre of the room, his second by his side, head held high and aura cocky. He looked entirely too confident, and extremely pleased with himself.

The larger number of Death Watch soldiers than usual didn't escape their notice.

"Welcome, friends," he drawled, his smirk arrogant and imperious

Instinctively, the brothers reached for their 'sabers, only to be met with the resounding clicks of numerous blaster safeties being removed.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. As skilled as you are, Sith, you are entirely outnumbered. Even you cannot hope to defeat such odds."

Maul snarled at the smug human, fist tightening around the body of his 'saber, the wish that it was Vizsla's neck clearly burning in his eyes.

"What is the meaning of this, Vizsla?" he growled, voice low and threatening, spitting the man's name like a curse. The Death Watch leader's smirk grew.

Savage wanted nothing more than to see his smirk fall. Along with the rest of him.

Maul, sensing his brother's rising tension, flashed him a pointed look.

"Well, dear friends, as you know, today is the day of my ascension to the throne. And though I am grateful for your assistance in the… forceful abdication of the weak and spineless Duchess that preceded me, I'm afraid I have come to the decision to terminate our partnership. After all, as Mand'alor, I can't really allow criminals to have free reign of the planet." His smirk grew. "I'm sure you understand."

Maul snarled as guards closed in. Savage's guttural growl gave them slight pause, but didn't perturb them for long.

The Death Watch was either exceptionally brave, or incredibly stupid.

Savage was inclined to believe it was both, as they took their weapons and, en masse, forced their arms behind their backs. The bite of the binders was as annoying as biting insects, and he wanted nothing more than to swat each and every one of the bugs that surrounded him.

Maul's hidden amusement was the only thing keeping him in check.

"We had an agreement, Vizsla!" Maul snarled as binders were forced around his wrists. "Do you mean to inform me that you will not honour your end?" Vizsla's chuckle almost had Savage break the illusion of defeat. He ground his teeth, fiery eyes burning holes through the imperious little human.

"Oh, do not worry. I shall still send our shared enemies to you." He flashed pale eyes at the numerous guards. "Take our esteemed guests to their new accommodation." Maul caught sight of the smirk decorating the face of Vizsla's second, and had to fight down the urge to crush her throat.

'In due time,' he thought to himself, his own smirk overtaking his features as he and Savage were led away. 'All in due time.'

………..

Ola sat silently, her whole body tense and on edge. She held her breath as she waited for… anything. Any sound. Any tiny hint of a clue of what had transpired.

What was going on?

Slowly, cautiously, she stood from the cold floor. She kept her eyes carefully trained on the door, taking tiny steps forward. Her heart hammered in her chest, her gut clenching and twisting into knots with every passing second.

Did she really dare to hope for rescue? Did she dare to hope that someone, somewhere, had noticed she was missing and had tracked her here?

A little voice in her mind sneered at her hope. Why would anyone bother about her? Why would anyone notice a simple, faceless, nameless waitress?

“Oh shut up,” she whispered, savagely stomping on the voice.

She came to a stop as close to the ray shield as she could (so close that the static made her skin tingle and her hair stand on end), straining to hear any sort of sound. After the short burst of chaos only mere moments ago, things had become eerily silent. Her eyes shifted this way and that, trying to catch movement. Any movement.

Wait… was that footsteps? Her heart leapt into her mouth, her lungs stalling once again.

It was! Armoured footsteps, coming this way! They didn’t sound particularly hurried, if it was a rescue.

She swallowed down the sudden worry, gnawing her lip and sweeping her tongue over the chapped, dry skin.

The familiar grey and blue armour of the Death Watch guard, the one from the ship she realised, came into view. His dark visor turned to her, the stone cold gaze piercing through her skin as keenly as a blade.

Her face fell, her hope dashed to the wind. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice seemed to stick in her throat.

He didn’t seem to notice.

“You’re wanted by Lord Vizsla,” he stated, deactivating the ray shield. She scrambled backwards, putting as much space between them as she could. He wasn’t deterred.

“W-what does he want with me?” Her voice cracked and trembled, both with limited use and terror. Her mind jumped from scenario to scenario. None of them were pleasant.

“What Lord Vizsla wants is his concern, not mine.” Her back hit the wall, making her squeak.

His hand shot out and clamped around her bicep, dragging her away from the wall and out onto the walkway. Ola was immediately reminded of her manhandling on the ship. His grip tightened in silent threat as she wriggled and pulled against him, slapping at his hand.

She gasped as he shoved her forward, out into the cell block corridor. Her breath left her in a whoosh of air as she collided with the barrier. She pushed herself straight and turned towards the armoured man, taking a deep breath and trying to force as much bravado as she could into her stance.

“There’s no need to be so rough, you know!” she snapped. He simply grabbed her shoulder and forced her along the corridor.

“Be quiet, and get moving!” She huffed, but did as told.

It wasn’t like she had much of a choice.

The glitter of shattered plexi on the walkway caught her attention, as did the dent in the railing. Clearly, from something hitting it. Or someone.

She replayed the screams she’d heard, the crashing and clattering. Was that what it was?

“W-What happened?”

“None of your business. Keep moving.” He pushed her forward with his blaster, the cold of the gunmetal sending a shock down her spine. She leapt forward, shooting a fierce glare over her shoulder. It didn’t affect him.

Or if it did, he didn’t let on.

He herded her towards the elevator, his steps somewhat more hurried than before.

Almost as if he was anxious to get away from the prison as quickly as possible.

Why? She wanted to ask him, but knew that she would only be met with silent resistance.

So, Ola decided to stay quiet, and simply wallow in her curiosity.

Little did she know that one of the reasons for her guard’s sudden tension was currently making his way towards her cell.

…………

Their cell was brightly lit, the plexiglass boxing them in thick and well maintained. The walls and ceiling were clean, pristine even.

A stark contrast to the one the waitress was housed in.

Maul smirked a little to himself as he sat upon the bench. The irony was not lost on him.

Savage paced before him, rumbling growls escaping his chest every now and then.

"Savage…" he said finally. The large Zabrak huffed, leaning heavily against the plexi wall.

"Apologies, brother."

"I know you are anxious, my Apprentice. I know you want to destroy those who have aggrieved us. But we shall be patient. Just a little longer." Savage grumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

Maul allowed himself a small, amused chuckle as he glanced at his brother. His entire posture was stiff and tense, a spring ready to be released.

"How much longer must we wait?" Savage growled, impatience colouring his words.

"Only long enough for Vizsla to take up his mantle. Death Watch and the Mandalorians are a warrior race, regardless of how their previous ruler tried to rewrite their culture. As such, they live by certain codes of honour. Honour I can take full advantage of.” Savage regarded him, thinking over everything Maul had said during their acquaintance with the Death Watch leader.

"You already knew this was going to happen," he stated simply. Maul hummed and shook his head.

"I did not know for certain, but I did have a feeling that this would be his chosen course of action. To openly engage us in combat would have only ended in his defeat, before he had the chance to take the throne." Maul stood, his hands loosely held behind his back. He strolled casually forward, reaching out his hand and touching his fingers to the plexi.

"Hmm. If I am correct, the Duchess will have incarcerated a number of political adversaries within the prisons of Mandalore. Where Vizsla has most likely imprisoned her."

"But we are on Concordia." Maul turned with a smile.

"Indeed." He scowled at a guard as he marched past, dark visor turned towards them.

"Quiet in there!" he barked, moving along.

"Apprentice, I believe we have outstayed our welcome." He turned away from the plexiwall, nonchalantly waving his hand. "I wish to leave this facility."

Savage's grin matched his namesake. He closed his eyes, drawing the cold whisperings of the Force inwards. The plexi that surrounded them quivered and rattled, shattering as Savage released his hold, throwing his hands outwards with a powerful cry. The shattered plexi skittered across the walkway and fell through the gaps in the flooring, glittering like melting snow.

The guard that had passed by came running back, blaster at the ready and shouting down his helmet's internal comms for assistance.

Savage's hand found the guard's throat, grinning gleefully as he squeezed. The Mandalorian's blaster bolts struck the far wall as he was lifted, his broken gasps sounding through his vocoder. His legs thrashed and his arms flailed, his blaster dropping with a clatter to the flooring. His fists pounded uselessly off the cybernetic arm cutting off his air supply, until they dropped uselessly to his sides. Finally, with a sickening crunch, his trachea collapsed under Savage's vice grip.

Savage slammed the guard into the wall with enough force to buckle the man's armour and dent the durasteel, and threw the now dead guard over the side. The body dropped like a lifeless ragdoll to the lower levels, the descent ending with the resounding clang of armour striking the metal railings.

Another three bore down on them, and one came from above, his jetpack flaring. Savage roared, dodging the bolts that came his way, and grabbed the blaster of the nearest guard. He slammed his fist into the visor of her helmet, the thick material buckling inwards. Her shriek was short lived as his metalloid fist struck again. She emitted a strange gurgled cry, her skull crushed inwards. Her body fell limp in his grasp, and he swung her into her colleague, bowling him over the side, and then used her lifeless body as a shield against the flying soldier, who was attempting to shoot him.

Maul was not idle, though he took some pleasure in watching Savage tear through their assailants. He focussed on the hovering guard, who kept firing into the body of the long dead Mandalorian woman. Hand outstretched, he called on the Force and, with the squeeze of his fist, imploded the jetpack.

The anguished screams of the Death Watch guard as his armour glowed red hot and shrapnel penetrated his skin fell on deaf ears, but echoed as he fell through the air.

Maul caught the arm of the guard behind him as she swung a vibroblade towards him. With teeth bared and eyes glaring an unholy light, he twisted her arm. The resulting pop-crack of the joint dislocating was covered by her shrieks. Even in agony, however, she fought valiantly. With sweeping kicks and one flailing fist, Maul admitted that she got in a few strikes.

Not that she was any match for him.

With a twist of his hand and a well placed kick, he had her face down and screaming on the floor, her arm twisted at an unnatural angle. He called her fallen shiv to his hand and, with almost surgical precision, plunged it into her uncovered neck. Her screams gurgled as crimson spurted and poured across the metal. He shoved her into the floor and stood. The sickly smell of blood permeated the air.

All this took less than three minutes.

Savage growled and grunted, his shoulders hunched and chest heaving. His eyes roved and hunted for more victims.

"Come Savage. Let us press on." Savage grumbled in response, turning to leave.

Only to stop dead in his tracks. He peered over the railing, looking down into the darkened depths.

"Do you suppose we have time to make a visit, brother?" Maul peered over also, cocking an amused brow.

"Still curious, Savage?" Savage tapped his fingers against his armored thighs, his entire posture screaming of embarrassed curiosity.

"I only wish to see if she is still here, that's all." Maul hummed in contemplation.

"Very well. Let us pay her a fleeting visit. I find myself in the mood for some further amusement." He stepped over the bleeding body of the guard, caring nothing about the pool that surrounded her.

They ambled slowly downwards, their strides unperturbed, quickly dispatching any other guards that accosted them, until they reached the waitress' cell.

It was as dark and dim as yesterday. But with one slight difference.

The cell was empty.

Link to chapter 8

@eloquentmoon @rubytotherebellion @writercels @stardustbee @nxctuaryninetythree @grinningnexu @botherbother-blog

[maladaptiveobsession]

yandere valentino headcanons

contains: nsfw themes, noncon, heavy abuse (manipulation, physical violence, sexual exploitation), dehumanization, orgasm control, mind break, dacryphilia, fellatio, sadomasochism, rough sex

yandere valentino

who’s affections are destructive and suffocating; to this egomaniacal mack, you’re no better than his contracted whores. from his hands that paint your skin deep purples and blues to his lips that steal your breath, nothing about val is gentle. yet, even when he sharply pulls your hair and degrades you, you find yourself entranced by him.

who’s malicious and cruel; you’re an object, his personal toy—a fact he won’t let you forget. you eat, sleep, and fuck on his command. he’ll remind you of your place if you so much as blink without his permission. perhaps he’ll have you roughed up a bit by his patrons. they’re sure to fuck some sense into you.

who rewards good behavior with praise and affection. you know you’ve done well when he guides you to your knees, lascivious grin encouraging you to open wide. your stomach twisting in knots when he calls you his good girl while roughly pulling you closer by the hair. dance around his cock with your tongue like he trained you and he may even feel generous enough to return the favor. be careful though, no good deed goes unpunished. he’ll push you to your breaking point, tease you till you’re begging for release only to force climax after climax out of you.

who’s unpredictable; his temper has you feeling unsteady, as if you’re walking on eggshells and broken glass. one moment you’re his treasured toy and the next he has you on the ground, begging for forgiveness as his boots violently meet your sides. you’ll scramble to keep his affections, never having felt so worthless without them. though you are his treasured toy, he’ll never let you forget that toys are replaceable—something that can be broken or thrown away at his discretion. of course, what makes yandere val unique compared to his normal counterpart is that he would never give you away or damage you beyond what can be repaired. his words are empty threats to keep you in line; you’re far more precious than he lets on.

who is vehemenemously possessive; you’re his, don’t forget it. keep your eyes on him unless you want a reminder of what he does to disobedient brats.

who’s merciless; this man relishes in your torment and gets off on your fear. nothing gets him harder than your pained tears as he fucks you too roughly. he delights in your cracked pleas for him to slow down and your fearful shudder as he traces your skin with his teeth. he especially loves provoking you to act out and then punishing you for it. eventually, the pain will become a familiar constant, it may even grow into a guilty pleasure. broken down and reshaped into the perfect toy, he’ll never grow bored of you; you’re stuck as his beloved stress toy for all of eternity.

[nco05]

So far Mathieu in the last 5 months has gotten assaulted MID CROSS/KOERS by:

Urine (XCO)

Beer (XCO & RVV)

A cap (Paris-Roubaix)

You disgust me

[goxjo]

! 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊

RYOMEN SUKUNA x VESSEL! READER

anon request: meeting in your head like that one ep with yuji and sukuna

+ synopsis. ❝ who knew the king of curses — the one living and festering in your body — was a jealous man? you’ve crossed him twice now, meaning he has to remind you that you’re his, and his alone. ❞

+ warnings. afab! reader, pet names: kitten, brat (lol), hard dubcon, yandere undertones, demon possession, monsterfucking, mentions of blood + an icky medical reference + gun metaphors, toxic jealousy, slight battle for dominance, fear play if you squint, degradation (real) + he calls you ‘little’, violence (he throws you once), light choking, true form! sukuna, very rough, two-cock! kuna ehhehe (this isn’t dp I’m sorry), masturbation, PIV, pussy job, slapping, creampie, slight dacryphilia, ~2.3k words, MDNI

♥︎ two-cock! kuna art ref ; based off of no secrets.

It is an exchange of looks from across the street, a simple hello, a brief conversation, an agreement of a time and place, and a quick peck on the cheek goodbye that sucks you into the abyss that is his soul — the one tucked within the empty hollows of what appears to be your ribcage.

Merely seconds ago, you were walking down the street, typing in the name and number of the man you’d met amidst the bustle of the noon rush. In a heartbeat, day turns to night and the silence pulsates in your ears. You’re standing on a thick pool of crimson, wondering why you’re not sinking. Before you is a mountain of bones, and the one who sits on top is you but not quite you. He wears your face decorated with his distinctive black marks. And though he contorts your face in angles and expressions you would have never worn otherwise, the black lines meld well with his grimace, like looking at a mirror that reflects the damned.

He lives, breathes, and festers inside you like a tumor poisoning your insides, tethered to your being like a twin in the womb. And you know someday he will consume you, leaving you to rot once he’s had his fill, adding your own skull to the pile of ivory and rubble.

Before this, Sukuna had only ever demanded an audience with you once. It was because of an innocent encounter not unlike the one you had just now. Back then, he left you off with a warning. Now, you can feel his judgement crawling under your skin, eyes throwing daggers at you as if you’re being put on trial.

“You’ve crossed a line, brat. I told you — no second chances.”

“I-I… let me go…” teeth clenching, you whisper under your breath, imploring him as if you don’t know by now he only does what he wants. You know better than to bargain with the Ryomen Sukuna. Standing before him feels as if all the warmth has left your body, his actual presence colder in the flesh than when he merely has control over your body. You’re afraid to even meet his gaze. Your knees feel weak, stomach riddled with the urge to hide away from his creeping glare.

All this to remind you you are helpless before him. And that’s precisely why you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. Even though it’s inevitable, you try to hold out for as long as you can.

Suddenly, he’s out of sight. Your breath hitches, chest expanding as you lock in the air in your lungs, hairs prickling all over your body, and it’s as if your feet are bolted to the floor when you feel a clawed hand stroke your back.

“Why do you torment me so, kitten?” He utters so close to your ear from behind you, his deep grumble shaking you to the core. Sukuna interlaces his hand with yours, feathering soft kisses at the back of it. “These hands, they’re mine.”

“This neck,” he leaves a shiny film as he licks a stripe from the back of your jaw down to your collarbone, the tickling sensation making your eyes roll back, “mine.”

You bite onto your lower lip, “Please, I—”

“This heart,” he brings a hand to your chest, fingers wrapping loosely around your neck, his hot breath fanning your cheek, “this body, all mine... 

“So… why would you even think to offer yourself up like that?”

“I-it’s not like that, I…” You pause, loathing how you almost found yourself muttering excuses for the jealous man behind you. The sound of his voice so close to your ear triggers your fight or flight, but there is nothing you could possibly do and nowhere you could possibly run at this point. That means you have nothing to lose. And that is precisely why a sudden bout of adrenaline rushes through your veins, cocking your loaded gun of a mouth. “Maybe… I wanted to push your buttons.”

“Hm?”

“Maybe… I wanted to push you over the edge knowing exactly what gets under your skin.”

Sukuna releases a sinister laugh, gritting his teeth in disbelief over the daredevil in front of him. “Are you challenging me you little brat?”

“I can feel your want — seething and boiling, waiting for its release.”

“And you’d know all about my wants?” If Sukuna’s laugh was sinister, now it was maniacal. The form behind you increases almost twice in size, casting a shadow that engulfs you whole. You feel stripped of your clothes, freezing cold down to your bones. His sheer raw presence is the last straw that makes you drop to your knees. You look over your shoulder, head craning up to bear witness to the face that tells you you might’ve bitten off more than you can chew. You’re certain he can hear your thuds of a heartbeat. After all, this man is nothing if not for his keen sense of fear as he preys on the weak. 

“I’m going to make you regret that, kitten.” He burns off the image of you like a snake shedding its skin. He grows another pair of eyes and arms, stomach splitting open, revealing a second abnormally large mouth.

With the last remaining ounce of bile left in your body, you pull the trigger, shooting back, “don’t be a fool. I-I… want you to make me regret it, Sukuna.”

“Don’t use my name so loosely, you scum.” Sukuna circles around you, stepping into the light. He goes down on one knee and grabs a handful of your hair, pulling your head back, inching ever so closely to your face, and for the first time, you have come face to face with the demon that hid beneath your shell. “The only time I want to hear my name coming out of that filthy mouth is when you’re screaming,” he leans in until your lips are almost touching, “while I remind you who you belong to, kitten.”

You huff, earning a menacing stare from Sukuna who tightens his grip on your hair. “Don’t be absurd, you.” You don’t dare say his name this time but the look on his face tells you he’s not going to like what you’re about to say either. “I belong to no one.”

Sukuna closes the gap, tipping your head back further. You moan into the kiss that quickly turns hot and steamy, betraying every cannon you fired at him, mind hazy from the way his tongue sways with yours. His fangs graze your lips as he plunges you into a fervent, open-mouthed kiss. A second hand wraps around your throat, a third scooping you up, and a fourth tearing your panties from underneath your dress making you hiss at the sharp sting left by the snap of your bands.

“Fuck!” He throws you and you wince in pain upon landing on the pile of bones, back arching with your hand soothing your spine where you’re sure bruises will form.

He takes a few seconds to gawk at you like he’s saying a quiet prayer before his meal. He’s got a few extra bones but not a single warm one in his body. Your hope for a dollop of care from him is nothing but a fantasy. But his figure towering over yours, menacing eyes looking down on you, waiting to devour its prey, sends a chill down your spine, and a bolt of heat down your core.

“My, what a lovely look on your face.” And you know for sure that ‘look’ is a mangled mess of anticipation and thrill. Never mind that he’s got you laid out, soft pussy on display, on a bed of skulls and skeletons. Your only focus is him. Your heart beats out of your chest as you nibble on your lower lip, an act he doesn’t miss. You shouldn’t feel hot at your center, you shouldn’t be squeezing your thighs for much-needed friction down your exposed cunt, your mouth should definitely not be watering at the growing bulges behind his pants.

He crouches down to your level, bones bumping skin and more bones, caging you between two arms, kissing you deeply once more. He hooks your knee on his elbow before he grinds an erection on your slick folds. He grins into the kiss finding you wet with juices he knows are from a mix of fear and want.

He doesn’t let you breathe, lips immediately back on yours, drowning you in kisses even as you’re gasping for air, even as you mouth ‘Os’ from the pleasure on your slit, even as drool drips down to your chin.

The only time he parts from you, he hears a faint whisper from you. “Please.” Of course, he beams with joy.

You bring a hand to your clit, smearing your juices across your folds, desperately needing to be touched but you can’t bring yourself to beg him twice. He’s humiliated you enough as if helplessly playing with your cunt in front of the beast you’d been teasing wasn’t embarrassing in itself.

“Pathetic,” he sneers as he loosens the knot around his waist. He lays out two hard and heavy cocks on your stomach, one on top of the other. The weight of one should’ve been enough to cause you to panic, but your insides clenching like crazy serve as a gag for you, choking back any complaints from you.

Sukuna groans at the sight of you squirming beneath him. He steals the hand on your pussy to stroke the head of one of his cocks instead as he places the other at your entrance. You take a deep breath as the tip of his head slides down your hole, breath hitching at the painful stretch, slowly turning to songful pleasure as the cock on top of you slides across your slippery clit while his other fills your walls completely.

“Hhhaaa~” you whimper, eyebrows furrowing in shame, cheeks flaring from the overstimulation as he ruthlessly fucks you, hips rolling back almost as quick as he exits you. Sukuna grunts as you press on the head of his cock, pumping his foreskin lubed with your slick, stroking him with your cupped palm on top and clit underneath.

The insane amount of heat in your core makes your eyes roll back as you near your orgasm. You feel a few taps to your cheek, the last one leaving a sting. You open your eyes to Sukuna’s flushed cheeks and adjoined brows. “Look at me. I want you to look at me while you cum,” he snaps, leaning in for a few quick sloppy pecks on your lips before capturing your mouth again with a sense of urgency that rivals that of your first kiss. His tongue flicks yours the same time as his cocks twitch, making you suck on his lips as your insides coil from your high.

Sukuna hits your pussy as deep as he could, head of his tip hitting your cervix till you’re mewling into his kiss both in pain and pleasure. His forehead leans on yours and both your jaws fall open as he rides your and his high, eyes deadlocked on each other’s. “Mmmffuck — Sukuna! Sukuna! Goddon’tstopdon’tstop!”

Sukuna groans as one cock spills to your torso, the other painting your insides white. “I love making you obey.” And as much as you hate to satisfy the entity that has been plaguing your insides for far too long, his cocks feel so good between your plush legs, flooding your mind with fantasies of all the things you want him to do to you even after he has defiled all rhyme and reason out of your sweet cunt.

And he’s not quite done.

He flips you over, securing an arm around your stomach as he presses your back to his chest. Your feet don’t touch the ground when he makes your pussy mount his other cock, the bottom one rubbing hard against your clit. One hand holds you by your chin, fingers dipping into your cheeks as he makes you face the bones, thousands of hollow eyes watching him soil your pussy, cock squeezing white stuffing out of your squelching hole.

He hooks both your legs on his arms, spreading you wide open for the skulls to see. You tilt your head back, one hand fixing on his nape to get him to kiss you while you reach for his other cock, slurping his tongue as you grind your pussy flush across his length, making a pasty mess of fresh juices and sticky cum.

“Oh~ Sukuna, fuck~ god, fuck!” you chirp from the heightened sensation of being creamed as you’re suspended in the air, bouncing on one cock and grinding on the other, exposed to a nonexistent audience, overstimulation pricking tears in your eyes.

“That’s right. Cry for me, kitten. Cry. Need you to scream. Need you to remember who you belong to,” Sukuna mutters against your shiny lips. Saliva, yours and his, splattering with almost every syllable. “Pray, kitten. Who do you belong to?”

“You, Sukuna~ I-I belong to you!” He bucks into you hard and fast even as he shoots his load, cock twitching inside and outside of you. He covers your torso in his hot seed while his cock roughly strokes your clit, forcing you to come undone, walls coiling around his cock.

“Sukuna~ Sukuna~ Sukuna…” you pant, whispering his name over and over as your fucked out body induces a hypnotic sleep.

He takes you at the top of his throne, your peaceful figure curled up in a ball, laying you on his lap to sleep a dreamless sleep in his hold for god knows how long.

pspsps ! please consider reblogging and commenting if you liked it ♥︎

[sortofanobsession]

Unsure and Unconventional, to say the least (Ted Lasso Fic)

Author's note: because the Uncle's Day scenes made me think a lot of things. Phoebe would have Jamie wrapped around her finger in like .01 seconds. They would be a mischievous duo. And the team would be like awww that's cute.

Parts of this fic partially Inspired by:

an answered ask (HERE) by @andfrecklesandyoursmile about Roy giving his sister Jamie's contact for "emergencies".

@politelymenacing did a post that (THIS ONE) That may have helped inspire some dialog.

So credit to those brilliant post.

Ted Lasso Masterlist

OT3 Roy/Keeley/Jamie Romantic ship. Platonic team dynamics.

Content warning: Cursing/Swearing (lots of it because Roy Kent is gonna Roy Kent), Mentions of abuse, Mentions of physical violence, Mentions of hospitals, Self-Esteem Issues (because Jamie Tartt...), Polyamory, Anxiety, Anger Issues, Fear.

Word count: 8k+ (this one got away from me and that is why it took days to finish)

Read on AO3 here

Unsure and Unconventional, to say the least

“Coach?” Will says as he nears Roy Kent as the coach oversees training on the pitch. “Someone’s here to see you. They’re in the office.” 

Roy’s brows furrow. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Keeley would have just come out and joined them on the sidelines. He grunts in acknowledgment and heads inside. 

“Uncle Roy!” he hears as soon as he reaches the doorway. 

“Phoebe?” He says, accepting the little girl’s hug when she reaches him. He looks over to see his sister talking to Trent Crimm. Trent Crimm moves to the doorway. Stopping to offer to take Phoebe so she could say hi to the team.

“Can I please, Uncle Roy? I want to say hi to Jamie,” Phoebe looks up at him with those big eyes he just can’t say no to, or at least say no and mean it. He looks to his sister, who shrugs. 

“What? They're friends now too,” his sister says, challenge clear in her tone. “That a problem, Roy?”

Trent watches the Kent siblings with silent interest. Phoebe practically buzzed with excitement as she waits for an answer next to him. 

“A 25-year-old prick cannot be friends with an 8-year-old girl,” Roy glares.

“That bridge is long crossed, dear brother,” she laughs. “Especially after Uncle's day.”

“Uncle's day?” Trent asks with a grin.

“Fuck off, Crimm,” Roy grunts. His sister just gives him a fond and familiar look. “Fine,” Roy relents. “You can go say hi to Jamie, but stay out of the line of play. And don’t-”

But she is already gone, an amused Trent following close behind. Phoebe tells him all about Uncle's day as she goes.  

His sister grins. “She’s just going to bother Jamie. Thought you’d at least find that amusing.”

Roy grunts. “Too bad the prick will enjoy it.” Roy winces it. “That just sounds so fucked up.”

“You make it sound so wrong that she likes your friends,” his sister says. “That you think the people you have surrounded yourselves with are criminals.”

“How would you know if they are or aren’t?” he glares at her.

“Because you’d have kicked them in the teeth and sent them packing if they were. Jamie Tartt might be a prick, but even I know he’d probably die before letting anything happen to Phoe, especially if his childhood was half as shit as you’ve said. And he can’t be a complete twat if he sat through the whole of Uncle's day.” She grins. 

“Alright, cut the shit. What’s wrong?” He is quick to change the topic. “I know you’re not here to talk about Jamie fucking Tartt?”

“You sure about that?” She raises a brow. He growls. “Fine, I need you to take her this weekend. One of my colleagues was supposed to speak at a conference, and the prick went and caught something on holiday.”

“So now you have to go?” he asks.

“Fuck no,” she says. “I’m covering for the poor bastard that does, which means I’m working a double.” 

“Fuck that,” Roy says, annoyed on her behalf. 

“I know you have a match, and this might ruin your plans with Keeley-" she starts, but he doesn't care what else she has to say.

“Fuck off. It’s fine. We’ll take her,” Roy doesn’t even hesitate to say. “Kid always comes first. You know that.”

“I know,” she nods. "Thanks."

"You don't need to fucking thank me," he states. 

"I don't, but I'm still going to, you fucking prick," she says fondly. "Every time, no matter how much you curse or growl." 

"You could have just texted me," Roy says. 

"Yeah, but then I couldn't ruin your whole day by asking you the same question you have avoided answering. Can't avoid it in person."

Roy growls, and his glare intensifies. Most people would probably hesitate to continue. Or even hurry to leave. Not his sister. She was used to Roy's behavior decades ago. Roy would kill for his sister. Die for Phoebe. And he'd do it happily. She knew that. 

"Roy, you can't just ignore your feelings forever." She holds a hand up to stop whatever argument he was about to make. "You can, and you probably would. I know you, Roy. I know that you-"

"Don't," he cautions. She sighs.

"You might think that you're hurting just yourself here, but you're not. And that's not fair to anyone." She doesn’t drop specific names because she doesn’t want to risk anyone hearing the specifics. And she knows there isn't any point in pushing more now. "And I know you don't actually want to hurt him. You'll make the right call eventually." She grins. Before heading in the direction of the tunnel out to the pitch.

"You're lucky that you're my sister," he growls when he catches up to her.

"And that you love us, I know," she bumps her shoulder against his. He hums more than he grunts for once as he walks. He gives into that voice in the back of his head that he used to always ignore when in public, even if it's just the dog track on a training day. He puts his arm around her shoulder and pulls her into a half hug as they walk. God, she might be a pain in the arse, but he loved his sister and her kid. He may have smiled just a little as she returned the gesture. 

"You know I'm just trying to look out for you. Like you always do us," she says as they walk out of the tunnel toward the pitch. "You may think you're happy now, just think how much better it could be."

"You spend too much time with Keeley, and she spends too much time with Ted and Rebecca," he laments.

"I'm just glad we finally get to spend time with your friends. Richmond really has brought the best out of that boy from Chelsea that kicked Brock Lorens' arse at the commons."

"Do it again, too," Roy grunts. "Fucking deserved it."

"He was a bellend," she grins. 

"He gave you a black eye. That's not a bellend. That's a fucker with a death wish."

"Who has a death wish now?" Ted asks as they reach them. Roy drops his arm as they do. "Hey there, Doc." Ted greets her.

"Coach Lasso, Crimm," she nods. "Coach Beard." He responds with a nod. 

She turns her attention back to Ted as he speaks. "Glad to see you outside the ER, or is it ED here? Heh, that always sounds so odd to me. ED means something very different where I'm from," Ted says. "Probably just nice to get out of those scrubs. Those always seemed so starchy," he continues earning an amused look from her and a growl from Roy. 

"It is nice to meet in a less sterile but just as chaotic environment," she says. Her brother has warned her to pretty much ignore most of what Ted Lasso says. She looks out to where Phoebe has seemed to draw the attention of most of the Richmond team. "Hopefully, my daughter hasn't caused too much commotion." 

"Aw, the boys could always use a bit of a break," Ted assures her. "No harm, no foul."

She chuckles as a player, one she recognizes as Dani Rojas gives Phoebe a bear hug that lifts her feet off the ground. Phoebe's laughter carried across the pitch. Her brother grunts. She knew she was pushing it the longer they hung around. Her brother used to keep his professional and personal lives separate. Didn't like the way his teammates would look at her. This team was different. He seemed to trust them a lot more. And she could seem to see why. But she was still playing a dangerous game, treading on her brother's nerves. He takes his job very seriously, and they were disrupting it.

"Should probably let you lot get back to it." 

"Well, go on, coach," Ted says to Roy. "Know you want to."  

His sister is smart enough to step away. Moving closer to Ted and Beard. Doesn't even flinch when Roy shouts. "Oi! This is training, not a fucking playdate! Put her down and get back to your fucking drills!” She just shakes her head. 

"Been dying to ask," Ted keeps his voice low as he leans towards her. "He always been like that?"

"He's been Roy Fucking Kent since the day he was born," she says with a grin. "But he has his moments. You can say he was a very protective older brother. Don't know why I said was. Still very much is."

"Like dealing with whoever had that death wish?" Ted asks, low tone forgotten.

"Fuckin' Lorens. I'd smash his face in if he showed that ugly mug around here," Roy grumbles. 

"Again?" His sister smirks.

"Yes, again. Fucking twat." Roy growls.

Ted looked between the Kent siblings. "That bad, huh?"

"No one lays a hand on either one of them if they want to keep it," Roy states. 

"What did you tell his mates the next day when they threatened to go to the teachers?" She grins.

"To fucking do it," Roy says. "That I'd give them a detailed list of every fucking thing they'd ever done to any kid in her class."

"He then listed them, chronologically accurate."

"Then told those fucks that if they even breathed at my sister wrong, their teeth would be in the pavement."

"Wow," was all Ted could say.

"So yes, Coach Lasso, I can assure you, he has always been some version of this Roy Fucking Kent."

"Fucking, right," Roy says.

"And yes, I got more first aid training patching up his sorry arse after fights than I did in medical school." 

*-*-*-*

(Earlier during training…)

Jamie’s head snapped up when the pitch goes quiet. He had stopped to stretch out an annoying knot in his hamstring. The striker wondered why drills had stopped despite no whistle. Not even Roy’s shout of it. He looked up at his teammates, Sam and Jan being the closest. Sam was grinning. Then something collides with his back. He immediately tensed up until small arms snaked around his neck. Jamie let out the breath he was holding and huffs a laugh. 

“Just gonna run right out an’ tackle me, Phoebs?” Jamie laughs.

“Keeley says you like hugs,” Phoebe says in his ear. 

“Especially, Phoebe-shaped ones,” he says with a nod. He reaches around with one arm to anchor her to him as he shifts to stand up. Earning a few curious looks from his teammates. Jamie couldn’t have possibly cared less. When he is on his feet, he reaches up with his other arm to keep hers secure around his neck. He spins her around. She laughs. It’s an infectious noise that causes a few of his teammates to chuckle. When he stops, Phoebe giggles and says she’s dizzy now. He goes to let her down, but her grip only tightens. He can’t help but smile.

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone got sick on the pitch,” Sam says. 

“Roy would love that,” Colin says as he and others join them, all of training seemingly unofficially put on hold. 

“Speakin’ of,” Jamie starts as he makes exaggerated motions as he turns to look around. Phoebe laughs as he swings her around. “Where is the grumpy prick?” Jamie asks having not seen the man. Phoebe giggles, but before she can chastise him for his language, he adds, “Yeah, I know, it’s a bad word, innit? Pay ya next time.” His teammates laugh. He feels her nod more than sees it. 

“Mum said she needed to talk to him and that I could come say hi,” Phoebe tells him. 

“Well, hi,” Jamie says. 

“Hi,” she laughs.

“Say hi to the lads, Phoebs,” Jamie grins.

“Hi lads,” she parrots, earning amused greetings from the now bigger group of players. 

“You here for more than Jamie hugs?” Sam asks. 

“Do you want a hug?” Phoebe asks, and the others laugh. 

"I did not mean-" Sam starts to say but is cut off by Jamie.

“I’m sure the lads wouldn’t turn one down,” Jamie grins. Phoebe shifts, and Jamie lets her down. Sam does indeed accept a hug. A few of the others do too. Dani Rojas makes her laugh by picking her up off her feet and swinging her around. 

“Oi!” They hear from the side of the pitch. “This is training, not a fucking playdate! Put her down and get back to your fucking drills!”  

“Sorry, Uncle Roy,” Phoebe says at the same time the others say, “Yes, Coach.” Jamie just huffs, scoops her up and jogs them over, and sets Phoebe down on the sideline by her mom and uncle.

"Lovely as ever, Doc," Jamie winks, greeting Roy's sister.  

"Charming as always, Tartt," she returns. Roy growls. "Alright. Steady on," she says, patting Roy's arm. "Say goodbye to Jamie and the coaches, Phoe."

"Bye, Jamie. Bye, Coach and Coach." She hugs Roy. "Bye, Uncle Roy."

"See you this weekend," Roy tells her as he hugs her back. 

"Think about what I said," his sister says in a low tone to Roy, glancing at Jamie as she does. Jamie gives her a confused look, but she just grins as she pulls away. "Laters team," she says louder to the group. She takes Phoebe's hand and leaves.

*-*-*-*

“She’s gonna be a heartbreaker that gets legs broken,” Isaac says to the group as they watch the interaction on the sidelines. 

“And that’d be the lucky ones Coach likes,” Colin adds.

“Not just Coach,” Sam mutters.  

“Nah, Tartt would aim for faces,” Isaac says. “Kent would make sure no one’s walking away, but Tartt knows too well how they think. No helpin’ the ones that break her heart.”

“Make the outside match the inside,” Colin nods. “Break her heart, and they’ll be lucky if those two break their face.” A few of the players grimace, and the others nod in agreement. 

“Fucking get to it, or you’re all running laps til I say so!” Roy shouts. 

Jamie shakes his head as he joins them. “Might want to hustle, lads,” Jamie smirks. “As soon as she’s gone, he’ll run ya til you’re the ones sick on the pitch.” 

“Yeah, alright,” Isaac says. “Back to it.” 

They all head back to drills. 

*-*-*-*

Roy is not surprised, but still annoyed, to find Jamie waiting for him after training. The locker room is empty but for Jamie. Roy resists the urge to go back into the office, but he knows Jamie would just keep waiting. Jamie was already in his street clothes, scrolling through his phone, and sitting like the fucking prick never learned how to properly use a chair.

"What the fuck are you still doing here?" Roy asks.

"Took ya long enough," Jamie says, getting to his feet. "So your sister-"

"Don't even think about it, Tartt," Roy growls. 

Jamie holds his hands up at the sheer rage in Roy's tone, but he doesn't flinch or back away. "I wasn't gonna say anything like that, fuckin hell." 

"Then what?"

"Just wonderin' why they dropped by. Not usually her thing," Jamie says. "Gotta be important to drop by in person, no text or shit."

Roy knew he had a point. He'd been concerned himself when Phoebe had run up to him. The only reason he hadn't been scared shitless that something was wrong was that no one was in tears, or as much as in tears that any of the Kents get. That image was seared in his brain from when that no good waste of space ex of hers left them.

"They're fine," Roy says as they head out to the car park. 

"So we don't need to hide a body or slash any tires?" Jamie asks. If Roy didn't know any better, he would have thought Jamie sounded disappointed. When Roy doesn't say anything, Jamie looks up at him. "What?" Jamie asks. "Phoebe seemed fine, so I thought maybe-"

"Since when do you have thoughts about my sister? Since when do you have thoughts?!"

Jamie rolls his eyes. "Excuse me for giving a shit about your life and family."

Roy sighs. "Phoebe is fine. My sister, she is fine. She has to work a double this weekend and needs someone to watch Phoebe."

"I can-"

"No, you cannot," Roy stops walking as he reaches his car. "You have a match." 

"So do you, Coach," Jamie counters. 

"Well aware," Roy says. "She'll be in the box with Keeley."

"She'll love that," Jamie grins. 

"Like I said, they're fine, so go home, Tartt."

*-*-*-*

"There she is!" Jamie says, picking Phoebe up in a hug and setting her feet on the bench so she was out of the usual chaos of the locker room. He glanced around. Everyone was still riding the high of winning the match. "Have fun with Keeley in the owner's box?"

"Yes!" Phoebe was quick to answer. Jamie did his best to keep her focus on him. He usually wouldn't give a shit about his team's manners. Even when it was Keeley or Ms. Welton in the room, Phoebe is 8. She's an innocent kid.

"Tell me about it," he says as he puts on a new shirt. Thankful that Keeley must have timed it so most of them would be wrapping up in the locker room by the time Phoebe got there. She starts telling him all about watching the game. 

"You scored a goal!" Phoebe beams at him. Jamie can't help but smile.

Cockburn chuckles as he closes his cubby. 

"Colin did, too," Jamie says. 

"Keeley said you helped then, too," Phoebe says.

"That's what teammates do, Phoebs, you know that. You play on your own team."

"Less fun now that Uncle Roy coaches you," she says. A chorus of awws has Jamie looking over his shoulder. A few of the players were hovering.

"I'm sure your uncle misses coaching you, too," Sam says as he approaches.

"Richmond pays better," Jan states. "Would be silly to pick a children's league over-"

"Fuck off, Jan Maas," Jamie grumbles. "She's 8, and he still coaches her team when he can."

"Jamie…" Phoebe says, and she holds out her hand. Jamie feigns annoyance as he moves around the edge of the bench. He does reach up and put a hand on her arm to make sure she doesn't get knocked off balance by his movements. He gets his wallet out of his bag and hands her the money. She gestures again. He rolls his eyes and more money that he owes her from training. 

"Good," Phoebe smiles. The teammates around him laugh. Phoebe clearly had Jamie wrapped around her finger. 

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Jamie tells them. "She'll get you, too, if you don't watch your language." He grins at Phoebe. "Still think you should cash Uncle Roy's debt in for a pony," he says with a wink.

"Better!" Dani says excitedly. "A puppy."

"How is a puppy better than a pony? I thought most little girls wanted a pony." Sam asks. 

"You watch too many movies," Colin says. "Kitten, get a kitten. Less maintenance for your poor ma."

"Just what she needs, a grumpy black cat to match her grumpy and gloomy uncle," Jamie grins. 

"Maybe smaller l, like a guinea pig or a-"

"No one is getting her a pet," Roy grunts.

"Uncle Roy!" She reaches out for him from where she stands on the bench. Half the team looks like they are about to try and catch her if she falls. Sam actually reaches out.

"Mate, she's 8 and plays football. She's fine," Jamie rolls his eyes but grins. She's safer in this locker room than probably anywhere else.

Roy steps up into the spot Jamie had been in before he moved over to the other side of the bench. 

"Uh huh," Sam says. "And yet you braced her when you rounded the bench."

"He did put her up there," Dani points out. 

"Fewer elbows and…other things in her eye line up there," Jamie says. "I'm not driving her to therapy." 

"You would," both Sam and Dani laugh. 

Roy shakes his head and looks at Phoebe. "Ready to go?" He asks. 

"Keeley said we could get ice cream," She says. Roy is not surprised.

"If Keeley said so," Roy states. Earning a few murmurs from the room. Roy growls. Phoebe seems unphased.

"Can Jamie come too?" She asks.

"Yeah, coach, can Jamie come too?" Jamie smirks as he leans against the divider between his and Canterbury's compartments. Roy ignores him.

"You can ask him yourself, Phoebe. He's your friend, apparently."

"I still think he's your best friend," Phoebe says. Yeah, Roy left the door open for that one. That was on him. 

"Yet he says it’s Isaac," Roy attempts to deflect the attention her statement got him. 

"You wish," Isaac laughs. 

"Get your own best friend, Tartt," Colin agrees.

"That's just ridiculous. It's clearly, Sam. Did you not see the international matches?" Reynolds says.

"He can have more than one best friend, can't he?" Dani asks. "I do."

"Of course you do," Jamie chuckles as he makes sure he has everything he needs to leave. He looks up and when Phoebe calls his name.

"Want to get ice cream with us, Jamie?" He glances at Roy. Roy rolls his eyes and shrugs. 

"O' course, Phoebs," Jamie says. His smile softens. "Love to."

"Then get your arse moving, don't have all damn night." Roy helps Phoebe off the bench, and they head out the door. 

"She's right," Sam says. "They're clearly best friends."

Everyone in the locker room murmurs in agreement. 

"Is Tartt with her mum or something?" Someone asks. 

"God no," Sam says. "He'd be dead if was."

"Fair point," Isaac says. 

"But Jamie Tartt isn't the old Jamie Tartt," Dani counters. 

"Yeah," Colin says. "But Roy Kent is still Roy Kent. He'd have destroyed Tartt for that."

"He has threatened to kill Tartt for a lot less," Sam admits.

"Yeah," the others agree. 

*-*-*-*

"Glare any harder, and you might melt the cone with the heat of it," Keeley nudges Roy as she says it. Roy blinks before looking over at her. She is obviously amused by how he is acting. 

"How is this not weird to you?" Roy says in a harsh whisper. Glancing over at where Phoebe is knocking around a balled-up wrapper as a ball on the tabletop nearby.  She and Jamie had been seeing how long they could keep it going without it hitting the floor. It gets oddly competitive when it shifts to who can get it between two napkin dispensers more while not letting their ice cream melt. It only got worse once their ice cream was gone. Though Roy found it as funny as Phoebe did when Jamie got a brain freeze from it.  

"It's like minding two children," Roy complains. 

"Would you rather have to entertain her yourself?" Keeley asks. Roy just grunts. Phoebe cheers when she lands her last shot. 

"Well played," Jamie grins and looks over at Roy. "Almost done, old man?" Roy has to resist making an inappropriate comeback. There are children, not just Phoebe, around. And normally, Roy doesn't give a fuck what people think about him. But he wasn’t actually that upset about anything. Jamie had actually gone out of his way to look after Phoebe in the locker room. He'd watched them through the window in the office while talking to Beard about the match. He could tell Jamie was trying to keep her focus on him and not the room full of half-dressed footballers. And in the past, he might have thought he was just being an attention needing twat, but Jamie had been keeping track of who was where in the room. Keeping himself between her and the rest of the room. So he'd give him a bit more leeway. And Keeley was right. Phoebe was having fun. They still have another day to keep her busy. Having Jamie keep her busy for a bit hasn't done any harm. Instead of saying anything, he just finishes his ice cream cone and gets up. He holds a hand out to Keeley, and she takes it as she gets up. "Let's go."

"Thanks for the invite," Jamie says to Phoebe as they walk back to Nelson Road. Jamie giving her a piggyback ride. She smiles, shifting so she can pat his head. He laughs. So does Keeley. "You too, granddad." He says to Roy when the laughter dies down. Roy does roll his eyes at that. Roy wonders how this became his life. And that thought made him wonder if this was a good thing or a bad thing. His gut reaction is, of course, it's bad. Jamie is the king prick of pricks. But he knows that's not true anymore. Jamie had picked to go with them to ice cream instead of the club to celebrate with the team. Jamie'd rather spend his time entertaining Roy's 8-year-old niece at an ice cream parlor while Roy and Keeley enjoyed their own treats than party with the boys. Or even find a casual hook-up like the old Jamie would probably do. No. Instead, he was carrying a sugar-fueled child on his back despite it being less than an hour out from playing a full football match. Roy's knee would have been protesting if it was him. They stop when they reach Keeley's car. 

"What are you doing now?" Phoebe asks Jamie when he lets her down.

"He should go home. Rest and recover," Roy says. 

"Not going to join the team at the club?" Keeley asks. 

He shrugs. "Just going to head home. Catch up on something streaming." 

"Nothing fun?" Phoebe asks.

"You heard Coach Uncle Roy," he grinned. "Gotta recover."

Phoebe gives him a hug, and he heads to his car. 

*-*-*-*

After Phoebe is down for the night, Keeley hands Roy a beer. "You going to tell me what is going on, or am I going to have to just wait it out until you crack up?" 

Roy considers ignoring her question, but he knows she will just bring it up again later. 

"Just something my sister has been bothering me about," he says. 

"Do I get specifics, or am I just to go off that vague nothing of a sentence?" 

Roy huffs. "She's been on my case about Jamie."

"What about Jamie?" That piqued her interest. "Does your sister want to shag Jamie Tartt?"

"Fuck off." He cringes at the idea. "I hope not." 

"Okay, then what is she on about?" 

Roy has not been able to figure out how to say that part out loud. Especially to Keeley. They are barely back together, and Jamie is her ex. She still cares for Jamie, and Jamie has never denied he still loves Keeley in one way or another. Jamie maintains he's glad the two got back together. He had told Roy he was a dumb fuck of an old man and even dumber than Jamie himself was for dumping Keeley. Roy had agreed with at least part of Jamie's assessment on that. He had fucked up by pushing Keeley away. But Jamie had been there to keep Roy out of his head. Even if he was just pushing his buttons to give him a vent for his frustration. Filing the silence in training with annoying factoids that seemed infuriating at the time, but looking back, were just keeping his mind focused on something else. Roy hadn't realized how much he had leaned on Jamie. He had gotten to the point he'd started noticing stupid little things that Jamie would appreciate when Jamie wasn’t even around. Whether it was some stupid video on the internet or someone else's fuck up that he knew they could both find amusing. Fuck this was frustrating to think about. His mind had been drifting more and more to Jamie Tartt during the quiet moments of his life. 

"Roy?" Keeley shakes his shoulders. He grunts. "Now I know something is up. Spill it."

Roy growls, not at her but at his own stupidity. Keeley just waits him out. 

So he tells her about his sister's visit to Nelson Road. About how she had been questioning him about his feelings for Jamie since Uncle's day. Keeley is damn near giddy by the time he finishes talking. 

"You love Jamie," she grins.

"I love you," he counters. 

"And Jamie!" 

"Would you fucking shut it," he hisses. He glances over at the stairs and silently waits to see if he hears Phoebe. Keeley glares at him. And he knows he fucked up. That had been too harsh. "Sorry, that was-"

"A bit harsh, yeah?" She takes a pull of her drink. "You're lucky I love you."

"I am," he admits. "But I'd rather not Phoebe hear this."

"But you haven't denied you love Jamie." 

Roy groans, rubbing his eyes. 

"You can't, can you?" Keeley grins. "You can love more than one person. The heart is a bitch like that."

"Keeley," he grumbles. 

"You aren't the only one," she admits. 

"What?" Roy asks. 

"It's like…” she starts to explain. “He's kept all the sweet things I genuinely enjoyed when I was him and grew out of most, if not all, the bad bits."

"He's changed so much," Roy agrees. "And I don't know if that's endearing or infuriating."

"Well, you love him, so clearly, you have your answer."

"You just admitted you still love him too."

"Yeah, but I loved him before. It's new for you." 

"Well, what the fuck are we going to do about it?" He asks. 

"Honestly?"

"Yes," he growls. 

"Drag him to the bed and settle it the fun ways," she says, taking a drink.

"Fuck off," Roy growls.

"I'm serious, babe," Keeley says. "He went to get ice cream instead of clubbing with the fellas. He asked if he needed to help you murder someone. He'd risk his career for you. He is ready and waiting for you at insane hours of the day already. He had a poster of you in his room as a kid. Admitted he loved watching you play. He still looks at you like you're his hero. Like he can't believe you would let him have even a fraction of your time and attention. Roy, he cares what you think. He lights up like the sun when you tell him he did a good job. Can you really not see how much he wants your approval? Your attention? Good or bad, he lives for it." 

Roy has to look away as she speaks. That was a hell of a list. How has he missed it all? 

"So you think he'd-" he slowly starts to say.

"If we texted him right now,” she interrupts him. “I guarantee he'd be here in minutes. If you asked him to do anything, he would."

"I doubt that," Roy vocalizes the little voice in his brain. The one that doubts most everything.

"Fine, I'll prove it." She grabs her phone and starts typing a message. 

"What are you-" 

"There. Done," she sends a message.

"What did you just do?" Roy asks, dread pooling in his stomach.

"Invited him tomorrow night," She says. 

He is slightly relieved she hadn't invited him to come round now. 

*-*-*-*

Jamie has the worst timing when not on the pitch. During training, during a match, he is a master at timing shots. He knows when and where to strike. As for his life outside the pitch, that has been a mess since, probably forever. Like now, he’s just kicked back on his sofa, tv on for mostly just background noise as he scrolls through social media and other sites on his phone. The match had been good. He was sending some of the best reactions and headlines to the team chat as he does. He had just taken a drink because Roy would probably kill him if he didn’t hydrate when he got a text from Keeley. He opened it and choked on his drink. He ended up coughing so hard his eyes watered. She told him to come round tomorrow night. That they had something important to talk to him about. Jamie’s chest hurts, and it isn’t entirely from the coughing fit he just had. Did he do something wrong? He thought they had a good time earlier, and it wasn’t even an inappropriate or raunchy good time. It was kid friendly. He kept Phoebe happy and safe. Isn’t that like Roy’s number one priority? Always. And Jamie is happy to help with that. Did he do too much? Or is it the whole locker room thing? She had found him there. He’d kept her from seeing anything she’d need therapy to forget. Was it something he didn’t do? The lads wouldn’t mess with her. They fear Roy far too much. But Roy didn’t scare him as much as he might have in the past. But fear wasn't his motivating factor for once. Jamie wanted to look after Phoebe because she was just a kid. She deserved to feel safe and happy. Roy might hate that Phoebe’s dad is not in the picture, but Jamie knows there are worse things than an absent father. An abusive one that resents your very existence. One that you can’t get away from. A dad like that is something he hopes Phoebe never has to even think about. He hopes her friends, classmates, teammates, all of them never have to go through what Jamie did. What Jamie still has to deal with. But Phoebe has Roy, at least. She doesn’t need a father. She has her mother. She has her Uncle Roy. She even has Keeley and now Jamie. The more people in her corner is a good thing, right? So it can’t be about all that, right? Then what else could it be? It’s Keeley, so it’s probably not about the match or training. He looks at the message again. He probably is taking too long to respond. So he sends her a message saying he’d be there and sets his phone on the table. So much for rest and recovery. He knows his dumb brain is not going to let this go.

*-*-*-*

"Phoebe go home?" Jamie asks when Keeley lets him in. 

"Yeah, disappointed?" Keeley asks.

Jamie shrugs, aiming for nonchalant but coming off as anxious and a bit exhausted. 

"Roy's in there," she gestures past the stairs to the living room. Jamie still seems to hesitate. "I'm right behind you, babe." 

Roy notices it immediately. Something was not right with Jamie. That was clear as day as Jamie made his way into Keeley’s living room. The striker looked more exhausted now than he had when they watched him leave the Nelson Road car park. 

“Are you okay?” Keeley finally asks as she follows the younger man. 

Jamie waves it off. "I'm fine," he insists.

“Don't exactly look it. You end up out with the team after you left?” Roy asks. 

“Nah, went home, just shit sleep,” Jamie attempts to shrug it off as nothing. He was not going to tell them his brain was thinking of a million ways this conversation could end badly for him. "Been worse, yeah?"

“Nightmares?” Keeley asks. Jamie shakes his head. 

“It wasn’t your dad was it?” Roy asks. One of these days he was going to make James Tartt, Sr. pay for what he's done. All the shit he put his son through. That line of thinking is cut off for now as Jamie speaks. 

“Wasn’t him. Wasn’t anyone, really. It’s nothin’,” he insists. “You’re the ones with something important to discuss.” Keeley looks at Roy before looking back to Jamie. Her brows furrow. 

“How about tea,” Roy says before turning toward the kitchen. "Already started, shouldn't take long."

Keeley drags Jamie to the sofa and makes him sit as Roy leaves the room. She sits beside him. She frowns again when he puts more space between them by moving to the end of the sofa. Or at least as far as he can with her insane amount of throw pillows. That doesn't sit well with her. He looks so uneasy. Jamie used to act like he owned the place when he came over. Sure he was less of a prick the last few times, but this was not even how the new Jamie usually was with her. “Jamie…were you worried about this?” She gestures between Jamie and herself. "About this talk?" Jamie doesn’t answer beyond a shrug.  "You aren’t in trouble or anything, babe.”  

“I didn’t say that I thought I was,” Jamie tries to argue. His guard was up. He didn't want to feel stupid or look weak having worried over something this…well he wouldn't say insignificant. She had said it was important. 

“Didn’t say you didn’t either,” Keeley counters. And he knew she had him there. The old part of Jamie that still pops up in his brain sometimes tells him to play it off as if he didn’t actually care. Or to just be a prick. But he doesn’t really want to do that. He’s not going to turn it on her and make her feel bad because his brain jumps to worst-case scenarios. He sighs and leans back until his head is resting on the back of the sofa, and he’s staring at the ceiling. 

“Sorry,” He says but avoids looking at her. “You said it was important, and my brain ran with it.” 

“Jamie,” she shifts, half kneeling on the sofa, and bracing her hand on his shoulder to try and get him to look at her. “Yes, what we want to talk about is important. But it's not bad.” “So I didn’t do something wrong, didn’t fuck anything up yesterday?” She goes to run her fingers through his hair to soothe him but she stops when she feels him tense up as he speaks.

“What?” Roy asks as he sets down a tray with steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table. “Match was a win. You played well, and went for ice cream. What would you have fucked up?”

“That’s what I couldn’t figure out,” Jamie admits, finally looking at them. 

“So you’re saying you got a text from us, saying we wanted to talk to you about something,” Roy starts as he hands Jamie his tea.

“Important. Something important.” Jamie adds as he takes the mug.

“Okay, something important. And you assumed we were mad at you for something?” Roy is still trying to figure out where this is coming from.

“I mean, you’re usually mad about something,”  Jamie states. “Wouldn't be you if you weren’t.”

Keeley tries not to grin but fails. Roy grunts. “Fair enough.”

“But I’m not,” Keeley says. 

“Usually are with me, and that’s fair. I’ve fucked up a lot since you’ve known me,” Jamie counters. 

“That was before,” Keeley says without hesitation. “That was a very different you, babe. Nowadays, you’re more likely to apologize for something you had zero control over than for something you actually did. And that’s assuming you’d have anything to actually apologize for in the first place.”

“Which you don’t,” Roy reiterates. “You train your arse off and barely complain about it anymore. You look after your mates. Keep ‘em in line if needed. You spent yesterday holding court for a stadium full of people and who knows how many more on live tv, then entertaining an 8-year-old at an ice cream parlor.  How could I be mad at you?”

“You’re Roy fuckin Kent. Ya can usually find something,” Jamie states.

“Well, I’m not. Got it?” Roy says. “I’m not mad. But I will be if you keep being a prick.”

“Roy,” Keeley glares at him. 

“What? I don’t want to be mad about anything, not right now, at least. Not with what we were going to talk about. Anxious, of fucking course. Angry, no.”

“Why are you anxious if it isn’t a bad thing?” Jamie asks. Now clearly confused. 

“Because what we are going to ask you is not something people would consider normal,” Keeley answers. 

“Not bad, but not normal?” Jamie tries to sort it out.

“Exactly. It’s unconventional, but could be fun,” Keeley grins, moving back to start carding her fingers through his longer hair. Ever since he had grown it out her fingers had itched to touch it. Style it. Just feel Jamie melt under her touch again as her nails scrape his scalp. This time, he lets her. He holds himself back from going completely to mush under her touch, but he doesn't fight how comforting it is. Keeley and Roy see it as a win. She can help but smile at them. 

 “So? What is it?” Jamie has to ask, his tone and his body language now showing he is less guarded and much more comfortable.

Keeley and Roy exchange a look. 

“You want to say it or…” Keeley initiates. 

“Don’t look at me,” Roy huffs. “This was your idea.”

“And you agreed to it,” Keeley insists.

“Because you-”

“Seems a bit bad if you can’t even say it,” Jamie points out. “Gonna keep going roundabout all night? If so, might need to order takeaway at this rate.” 

Roy glares at him, but the prick has a point. He takes a drink if his tea to stall for time.

“We want you to join us,” Keeley says. 

“Join you where? I’m already here,” Jamie says, his mind is too distracted by the feel of her fingers along his scalp to look deeper at Keeley's statement. 

Roy rolls his eyes. Sometimes he forgets how direct you have to be with Jamie. Subtlety and nuance are often lost on Jamie Tartt. He is a genius on the pitch. And he knows a lot of shit about topic Roy couldn’t even imagine knowing anything about. But sometimes, he misses the obvious points. And as frustrating as it might be at times, Roy still finds himself wanting to protect this one particular idiot more than any other and help him. Teach him. Fuck, Roy was absolutely lost on Jamie fucking Tartt.  Unfortunately, he, too, had been anxious about this conversation all damn day and was on his last nerve. 

“For fuck’s sake, Tartt,” Roy sighs.

“What did I do?” Jamie starts to get defensive, pulling away from Keeley to look better at Roy. 

“Steady on,” Keeley levels Roy with a serious look. She puts a hand on Jamie’s chest. “We mean with us, like in our relationship, not just at our place physically.”

Jamie is pretty sure his brain has short circuited. He cannot have heard what he thinks he just did. He looks back and forth between the two of them. “You…you’re serious?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Keeley says, smiling at him. Roy nods, hesitant to say anything that might ruin anything. He’s screwed up his relationships too many times. He’ll leave this to Keeley.  

“Me?” Jamie asks. “You want me…”

“Yes,” Keeley affirms.

“You both do?” 

“Yes,” Keeley repeats. “We both do, right, Roy?” She looks at Roy, eyes pleading for him to at least act like he isn’t a total prick. 

Roy grunts but adds. “Wouldn’t have brought it up if we didn’t.”

“Like a one-time thing or…" Jamie says. He still can’t believe it.

“Fuck off,” Roy grimaces. 

Keeley shifts so she has both hands on Jamie’s chest. “No, Jamie. Not a one-time thing. Because I miss you, Jamie. I miss being with you. And Roy, he…” She looks at Roy.

“Fuck it,” Roy grumbles before sitting in the seat Keeley was practically out of. Pulls her on his lap before gripping the back of Jamie’s neck and pulling him into his side before slotting their lips together. Jamie is almost too stunned to react.

“Jesus, Roy, warn a girl first,” Keeley says. “And let the man agree to it before you inhale his face. He may not slap you with an assault charge, but-” She’s cut off when Jamie pulls her into a hug. 

“I missed you,” Jamie admits. 

“So, is that a yes?” Keeley asks, her tone filled with hope and only a little muffled by his shoulder. 

“Of fucking course, that’s a yes,” Jamie laughs. “I might be a bit daft, but I’m not a complete numpty.”  

“You’re not daft,” Keeley says. She leans back enough to put a hand on his face. “You’re brilliant.”

“You might not be a fucking rocket scientist, but she’s not wrong. Selling yourself short, Tartt. On the pitch, you’re a fucking genius. Off the pitch, you know the most insane shit I couldn’t even pretend to know.”

Jamie ducks his head to hide the blush dusting his cheeks. 

"So adorable," Keeley coos. 

"That is the nicest thing you have ever said to me," Jamie murmurs, glancing at Roy.

"Don't get used to it," Roy grumbles.

"Or do," Keeley kisses Jamie's still pink cheek. "He's lying. He knows you thrive on praise."

Roy grunts. "No one would believe you if you tell anyone." 

Jamie actually laughs at that. And Roy would die before he admits it out loud, but he loves that sound. 

"This is really happening, innit?” Jamie asks. “I didn’t smash my face during the match and am in so fucked up coma dream, or like some head trauma hallucination, right?” 

“Well, then we’d be figments of your imagination, so how would we know?” Roy points out.

Keeley elbows Roy in the ribs, earning her a grunt. “You aren’t hallucinating or dreaming.” 

Roy pinches Jamie’s side. Jamie yelps and pulls away. “Real enough?” Roy smirks. 

“Not nice,” Keeley glares at Roy. She takes the opportunity to slip her hand under Jamie’s pullover and shirt to gently run her hand along the spot Roy had pinched. Jamie’s breath hitches, and he melts into her touch. She grins, “There’s my good boy.” Jamie groans.

“That really does the trick, doesn’t it?” Roy laughs. Jamie glares at him, but Roy just laughs harder. He’d seen Jamie’s glare make people flinch. But this one had no heat to it. It was a bluff. Clearly, he was enjoying himself too much to really be pissed. When the glare fails, Jamie pouts a bit. And Roy bites back a sigh.

“Fuck off with that pout,” Roy growls. He reaches over and pulls Jamie back to where he was before he pulled away. “This is a good thing, remember?” He reminds him as he tugs on the back of Jamie’s pullover until Keeley helps take it off of him. His shirt is quick to follow. Jamie nods. Keeley kisses him as her hands roam his chest and abs. She swallows his moan.

“Didn’t hear you, Tartt?” Roy teases as his own hands reach out and touch. Skin he’d been dying to touch for longer than he would ever admit to every time he saw Jamie in the locker room. 

“Very,” Jamie breathlessly admits.

“Good,” Roy nods. “Because this is just the start of what we have planned for you.” 

“Fuck yeah,” Jamie says. “Let’s go.” Keeley laughs as Roy pulls him in for a kiss. 

“Fucking hot,” Keeley says as she watches them. “We gonna move this upstairs or what?”

Roy pulls back and gets a good look at both Jamie and Keeley. “Inna minute,” he says, and he grips the back of his own shirt. Keeley shifts over into Jamie’s lap so Roy can get his shirt off. Jamie happily accepts her and frees her from her own shirt. 

“Fuck, I missed you,” Jamie says before moving his lips to the skin below her ear and along her jaw. He wasn’t exactly a selfish lover in the past, and he wasn’t a religious man, but he’d thank any deity listening for the chance to have her back in his life like this. Roy being there was just icing on the cake. 

“Fucking gorgeous,” Roy admits. 

"She really is," Jamie murmurs against her neck.

"I meant both of you, you fucking prick," Roy reaches up and cards his fingers through Jamie's hair. "Those pretty fucking lips of yours."

"Thought I was an ugly, ugly boy, with bad hair?" Jamie smirks. 

"Fuck you," Roy growls as he pretty much attacks Jamie's lips with his own. 

"That's why I said we should go upstairs," Keeley says from where she is sandwiched between the two very shirtless fucking fit men.  "Although I'm not complainin'." She runs her nails along Roy's abs making him moan into Jamie's mouth. Jamie took advantage of it and deepened the kiss. But Keeley wasn't done being cheeky. She grins as she grinds down on Jamie's already tented clothed lap. A shock of pleasure runs down the striker's spine and he moans loudly. His arm snakes around her torso to hold her tighter. The other goes up to the back of Roy's neck. Fingers gripping tight like if he lets go it will all just vanish. Roy growls.

"Oh, that was a fun one," Keeley giggles. 

"Upstairs." Roy growls. "Now."

[cubbihue]

Hey, I love how you do with Fairy Timmy AU!

My apologies if this question already answered, I might have missed or something, I’m not sure if you already have those in this AU.

I have a question stuck on my mind for awhile…

What happened to Timmy’s parents? Were they bad parents towards Timmy?

(I mean I probably figured it out but I’m not sure if I’m correct so what’s why I’m asking)

Were their memories of Timmy/having a son being erased from them?

What happened to Timmy’s best friends, A.J. and Chester? Were their memories of Timmy being erased too?

Does Vicky and Crocker’s being erased as well too?

Trootie?

What about those who know Timmy?

I’m sure everyone’s of Timmy have been erased, that’s what I guess/I think.

You can't erase everybody's memories of Timmy, sillllly! Adults have too high a resistance against magic for that to work!! Only Jorgen has the power to make adults forget full memories, and even then, it's very limited.

It takes a great deal of magic to do any of the sort.

Timmy had Vicky for nearly the rest of his childhood! Although one day Vicky's family up and moved overnight, suddenly. How annoying! It brought nothing but more burdens for his parents.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[star1ight0]

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader "Always have a place"

TW: mentions of physical/verbal abuse

I have issue, it's okay though writing make me feel better Abt them.

Yelling it was always a non-stop screaming match in your house, your quirk allows you to absorb sound and turn it into physical energy, unfortunately for your fathers quirk was much stronger than yours and fobadde you to use it outside of school. Your house was hell between your mom and dad fighting all the time and occasionally dragging you into it it felt like internal flames.

One night got particularly bad when your dad started yelling, you stepped in to remove your mom from the situation when he raised a fist to hit her as you jumped in the way. He proceeded to derect all anger at you now. Your mom ran taking the keys urging you to leave but you refused to give him even a second to potentially hurt her. She left leaving you a bleeding bruised mess as your dad walked out the door. You couldn't stand it anymore. Through the rumbing of thunder outside you patched yourself up grabbing a duffle bag with clothes. You didn't know where you'd go, but you knew you didn't want to be home when he got back.

Walking in through the rain phone in hand you dialed Katsuki's number.

"the hell? Why are you calling me it's 3am on a school night?" He said in the usual gruff tone the sleep still in his voice.

"Katsu, can i-" you were cut off by Katsuki's voice louder than before "Are you outside?! What the hell, is pouring get inside before you get sick." He said even though he sounded more aggressive you could tell he was genuinely worried.

"Katsuki please just listen to me, i- " you paused feeling a wave of hesitation "I need a place to stay tonight.. please" silence. You heard slight movement from his end. "The doors unlocked my parents are sleeping but I'll tell them while you get here. Hurry up I can't have a hypothermic partner." He said hanging up the phone.

You put the phone in your pocket walking the remaining distance to his home. You knocked on the door being greeted by Mrs. Bakugou.

She was like a second mom to you so the look on her face when she was you bruised eye and cut lip/face was beyond frightening. She helped you in placing your bag on the floor calling Katsuki to start a bath for you. "Go up and take a bath dearie, I'll leave some soup upstairs in Katsuki's room for you." She spoke in a rather soft voice.

You went up towards the bathroom seeing Katsuki still warming the water. "What the fuck. I'm gonna kill that bastard." He spoke pulling you into a hug. "Don't it's - it's my fault I got in the way it's just - he was going to hurt her and i- " your voice was braking with tears and finally giving out with a sob. You shoved your face into his chest

"It's okay dummy.. you're here and safe now. I'll take care of everything okay?" He said his voice softening. "Get in the bath I'll throw a towel in the dryer for you" he said placing a kiss on your lips.

You faced away from the door using Katsuki's soap to wash up. When katsuki returns he sees a bad bruise on your side as you wince in pain trying to wash your hair. "Give me the soap" he said his hand outwards. "Kats-" you said trying to cover yourself with your hands. "Nothing I haven't seen before, just lean back and let me do this for you." You felt your face get warm at his beginning remark but let him nonetheless. Afterwards he leaves to let you get changed.

When you entered the room there was a bowl of soup next to the bed and Katsuki was putting away laundry, you walked behind him wrapping your arms around him placing your weight onto him out of exhaustion.

"Hey, you okay now?" He asked shifting so you were in front of him. "Mhm just cold" you said and he placed his hand on your head "your probably gonna be sick. You should've called me I could've gone and got you dumbass" he says but there's no anger anywhere in his voice just worry. He picked you up bridal style placing you on the bed laying next to you. "Mom's okay with you sleeping in here but if you want the bed to yourself.. too bad." He says kissing you. You snuggling into him finally letting your guard down snuggling into him "I don't.. know how long I'll need a place-" you were cut off by a kiss from Katsuki "don't act like you don't have a place here. Besides, the hag likes you so she won't mind"

The rest of the night is cuddling and a little bit of crying, but Katsuki holds you the whole time until you both fall asleep.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

My friend beat my boyfriend to death with her bare hands. He didn't even fight back; he just laid there and took it.

[buzzkillchainsaw]

Pearl comic part 4 ⚠️ TW fictional child characters hurt & in distress

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