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serafilms · 4 months

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FIRST DATE, KINDA NERVOUS

part 2 of the golden quartet

art donaldson x reader, slight tashi duncan x reader, slight patrick zweig x reader

summary: the story of your first kiss with art donaldson in a hotel room, and your first date in a diner. cute, fluffy, healthy, a tiny bit suggestive but not really. group polyamory dynamics hinted at. (play: so high school by taylor swift). wc: 3.5k

“What do you think?”

You shrugged. “They’re cute, they seem nice, and your backhand is like, a million times stronger than theirs, so I reckon you could take them in a fight.”

“What, you wouldn’t help?”

“Please. I’m too weak for that,” you said, shaking your wrist limply in Tashi’s face.

She rolled her eyes at you and pushed it out of the way. “Whatever, fine. We’re going.”

She ran her fingers through her hair. After showering, the straight hair from the party had disappeared, giving way to her natural waves. You always thought she looked prettier this way. Softer, somehow.

“Yay,” you said simply. “But just remember that my parents placed my safety and care in your hands, so if we get, like, murdered or something—”

“Oh, shut up,” Tashi groaned, a laugh bubbling out of her mouth, “you were just endorsing them.”

“Yeah, well. I’m indecisive.”

The smile that slowly spread across Tashi’s face told you all you needed to know. Ten seconds later you had grabbed and shrugged on your jacket and the two of you were climbing your way out of her bedroom window.

Now, you’re sitting on the floor of a hotel room, Tashi on your left and Art on your right, Patrick laying comfortably across from you, propped up by his elbows.

The beer in your hand is pretty shitty, which is a fact you find odd considering you can only assume it was either stolen from one of their parents, or paid for using a bribe, and in both of those cases, wouldn’t the beer be better?

But maybe that’s not what you should be focusing on right now, you think, as Patrick leans forwards to take it from your hand. His fingers brush yours as the can crosses over. For the last hour or so, the four of you have gone through eleven cans of beer, each consumed one at a time, being passed around like a bong.

Your eyes linger on the way Patrick’s mouth engulfs the opening of the can, right where yours had just been, and the way he passes it right to Tashi, who does the same as she takes a sip. The flush of heat in your face and belly are hard to ignore, and you’re not too sure how much of it can be attributed to the alcohol.

There’s a stutter in your chest as Art nudges you with his elbow. “So what are you planning on majoring in?”

His cheeks and ears also look flushed, but you think that might just be a consequence of the story Patrick told earlier. It was a sweet story; you assured the boy next to you of that when he’d buried his face in his hands, but he still seemed a little perturbed.

It was a sweet story though, you muse. Tashi said that they seemed like brothers, but you thought they seemed like they were an old married couple.

You’re brought back out of your thoughts as Tashi hands you the beer. “Oh, um. I’m not too set on anything yet, but I think maybe journalism.”

Patrick lets out a whistle. “What, not physiotherapy or sports medicine?”

You shrug, and before you can stop yourself, you say, “Just because I was a tennis player doesn’t mean it’s my whole personality.”

Immediately, you wince. Wrong place, wrong time. You steal a quick glance at Tashi, but she seems unaffected. Right. It’s Tashi. The last thing she feels is insecure. She simply looks at you.

But for good measure, you add, “I mean, I can still do sports news, or something.”

Against the better judgement of your burning stomach and your sluggish thoughts, you take another swig and then pass the can to Art.

“Journalism suits you,” he comments quietly as he takes it. You give him a small smile. He takes a small sip of the beer, and you can’t help but watch the way his Adam’s apple shifts when he swallows.

“I need some ice,” announces Tashi. She rises from her position on the floor.

Patrick wastes no time in scrambling up too. “I’ll come with!”

Tashi gives you a look like she’s exasperated, but you know better from the way she waits for Patrick to grab his key and open the door for her. She doesn’t look back as she walks out, but Patrick calls out a teasing, “See you guys later,” before the door closes fully.

When you turn your head towards Art, you see that he’s looking right at you.

“You sure do that a lot,” you mumble.

He smiles in a way that seems endeared and a little confused. “What?”

“Stare.”

“Sorry, I just—”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s nice. I- I, uh.” Your thoughts are racing, everywhere and nowhere all at once, as you struggle to find the words. The way Art looks at you sends a buzz of something in your abdomen, and your mind becomes all the more scrambled. “I need to stand up.”

You stand quickly, maybe too quickly, and immediately stumble.

“Whoa, you okay?” Art’s quick to jump to his feet. His hands find their place on either side of your waist to steady you. Now you really can’t focus.

“Yeah,” you hear yourself say, “I think I should sit down instead.”

You’re very aware of the fact that his hand stays on your waist as you bumble over to the edge of the bed and take a seat.

There’s a pang of disappointment when his hand leaves your waist, and another when he stands unsurely in front of you. You pat the spot next to you.

“Sit. Please.”

He complies. Perched on the edge of the bed, hands in his lap, he’s much closer than when you were sitting on the floor together. You fiddle with your hands and steal glances at him every now and then.

“I wanted to ask you,” Art breaks the silence, “do you ever miss it?”

You don’t need to ask what he means by ‘it.’

There’s a moment where you gaze off, eyes wandering towards the door, before they return to the boy next to you and you shake your head.

“I don’t, not really.” You bite the inside of your cheek in thought. “It was fun for a while, and I liked being good at something, but I think I just fell out of love with it after a while. Like my whole life became just tennis, and thinking about a future in tennis. If I’m being honest, the injury was like a miracle to me.”

Art looks thoughtful at that. “What’s so wrong with a life of tennis?”

“Well. I mean, nothing, I guess. It just took a lot more time and effort than I would’ve liked. And there’s all the things I had to give up for it.”

He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to continue, so you do. “Cheeseburgers, sleeping in. Love.”

The bed dips closer to you as he shuffles a little closer. It prompts you to look back up at him.

The curls on his forehead hang low, just over his eyes. His hand rests just next to your thigh, and he rests his weight on it to lean just a bit closer. “You don’t think you can be in love and play tennis at the same time?”

Art’s presence has a magnetic effect on you. There’s a gravitational pull that has you angling your body towards him and moving ever so slightly closer to him.

“I don’t know. Do you?”

His eyes dart down to your lips. It’s an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and you feel the corners of your mouth twitch upwards as you do the same. You can almost feel the warmth of his exhale as your faces draw closer and closer.

“Can I?” Art whispers.

“Please,” you respond.

His hand comes off the bed to rest on your cheek, and then he’s kissing you. It’s soft, gentle, but there’s an urgency in the way his tongue teases the entrance of your lips, and the way he moves even closer towards you, almost as if he’s chasing you.

Your hands find themselves at the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. His other hand moves to rest on your waist. Then your thigh. You let out a hum as your stomach does a little leap. Then, he pulls away for a fraction of a second to take you in, before his lips are on yours again. It’s electric, when he tilts his head slightly to the other side, when the hand on your cheek slides down to your jaw to bring you closer, when you hear a low groan in the base of his throat as his hand slides to the inner part of your thigh.

Then you hear the key at the door, and you both jump apart.

Tashi has a cup of ice water in her hand when she surveys the scene in front of her.

Your bodies are still angled suspiciously towards each other and your hands both rest awkwardly in your laps. Little is left to the imagination. You can still feel the butterflies in your stomach and the racing of your heart when Patrick raises his eyebrows at the two of you, a grin on his face.

“So,” he begins, “what have you guys been up to?”

Art and you speak at the same time. “Oh, you know, nothing much.” “Just chilling.”

Tashi’s face is thoughtful, as she looks at you and her lips quirk up in a smile. She nods her head to the door behind her. “Well, it’s late. We should go.”

Your eyes dart back and forth between the three people in the room. Slowly, you stand, giving Art an awkward kind of smile as you brush past him.

“Wait,” Patrick exclaims, “can I get your phone number?”

She shrugs back at him, holding the door open. “Play some real tennis tomorrow, and then I’ll give you my number.”

“So like, if I win?”

“You don’t have to win to play well.”

You’re not sure where this leaves you and Art in the mix, but Tashi is looking at you expectantly from the doorway, and you fear you don’t have the time to decide now. With an apologetic look and a wave, you mutter, “See you guys,” and then you’re out the door.

In the end, Patrick does win. He gives a flourishing bow as Tashi shrugs and applauds him. She turns to whisper something in your ear, but the words make no contact with your thoughts. As Art looks dejectedly at his racket, then at his best friend across the court, you stand abruptly. Tashi looks at you, bewildered.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Wait, I was—”

Whatever her next words are, they die in her throat as she sighs and watches you thread your way through the stands and go down the stairs to the side of the court.

“Hey!” you call out. Art’s head perks up and his eyes search for the source of the sound until they land on you. He jogs to meet you.

“Hi.”

“Um,” you say, feeling suddenly like your foot has been shoved into your mouth, “you did really well.”

Art looks at you deadpan, but a smile starts to show in his eyes. “I lost.”

“Still, you were really good.” Your eyes glue themselves to the floor as you start to regret coming over so hastily without planning what to say.

“Well, thanks. Really. It means a lot coming from you.” Looking back up, you see him scratching the back of his head nervously. It’s an odd look, considering he’s also drenched in sweat, and his glistening skin makes him look even more nervous than he is. “Look, uh. I know we didn’t make a deal or anything, but do you think I could get your number?”

Maybe this wasn’t such a mistake. “Yeah, I think I could make that happen.”

SIX WEEKS LATER.

God, you’re stressed right now. The hem of your top has fallen victim to your incessant fiddling as you tug at it, scrunch it up, release it and repeat.

“You’re acting like it’s your first date ever,” Tashi says, rolling her eyes. There’s a smile playing at her lips that tells you she isn’t trying to be as mean as she sounds.

“He’s cute, okay? I’m nervous.”

Tashi comes up behind you and you meet her eyes in the mirror. A shiver runs down your spine as she tugs at the collar of your jacket, knuckles brushing your neck in the process.

“You should take this off.”

“What? Why?” You stare at her reflection. “I know it’s still summer, but it’s nighttime, so like…” Her deadpan expression has you trailing off. “What?”

“You can wear his jacket instead.”

There’s a hollow silence as your mouth forms an ‘o’. Your fingers move to tug at the sleeves of the jacket, gaze averted from hers for a moment.

“You think he’ll offer?”

Another eye roll. “The guy’s like, obsessed with you. Of course he’ll offer. Doesn’t hurt to throw in a little shiver either.”

“What if he’s not wearing a jacket?”

“Oh, he’s wearing a jacket.” She waves her cell phone in your face. “Patrick texted me an update.”

You grin and shrug off the jacket as you turn to face her. “Who knew Tashi Duncan was such a sucker for clichés?”

“I’m just trying to make sure your date goes well,” Tashi scoffs as she snatches the jacket from your hands. “You’re the one who swoons every time you watch a romcom.”

She’s right about that one.

Tashi smacks her lips as she hangs your jacket back up in your closet. “I still don’t get why you’re so nervous. I thought we broke all the ice at the hotel.”

“Well, I can still be nervous. Just because you and Patrick had sex two weeks ago doesn’t mean I have to be as confident.”

She sighs because you’re right. Tonight is your first date. With Art. Not your first date ever. But you sure do feel nervous enough to pretend it is.

You and Art have been texting nonstop for the last six weeks, but between the odd part time jobs you’ve picked up over the summer and his tennis training, you haven’t had any time to hang out, unless your best friends who managed to squeeze in their first date, first time and first sleepover together all in one go. But Tashi and Patrick are much more go getter than you.

Tashi didn’t give you shit for your lack of fervour in pursuing whatever relationship you and Art had, but you still felt a little perturbed when she called you the day after her night with Patrick, and told you that he’d asked about you guys.

(“Does he not talk to Art about it?” you asked.

“He said Art’s happy, but he wanted to know how things were going on your end. Since you guys have only been texting.”)

So now you feel pressured. Like somehow your relationship is linked to Patrick and Tashi. Like they’re waiting for you guys to catch up.

But you don’t say any of that. Because you want things to go at your own pace, you keep quiet. Because you don’t want to speak it into existence, even if Tashi will roll her eyes and call you ridiculous for it because she knows your life is yours and hers is hers, despite the way she keeps trying to push you in certain directions.

When the doorbell inevitably rings, you and Tashi exchange looks. She gives you a nod. It’s more firm than comforting, like she’s sending you off to play at Wimbledon and she knows you’re going to win.

Your parents aren’t home for the next few days, which is why you strategically planned your date for tonight, because God forbid they use their last few weeks with you living under their roof to embarrass you in front of a guy. You almost expect Tashi to answer the door for you as if she’s your mother, but instead, she shoves your bag in your chest, says, “I’m using your shampoo and eating all your snacks,” and pushes you out of the bedroom door, then closes it.

One last check in the nearest reflective surface, and you’re ready.

Art is dressed casually, like you, in jeans and a polo. Tashi was right in saying that he would wear a jacket. In the light of your front porch, he looks especially gentle, the warm light threading through his hair like a halo.

The smile that lights up his face when you open the door has the potential to end your whole bloodline, you swear. The way your heart rate picks up feels like some kind of fight or flight response, but you’re willing to ignore it all for him.

“Hey,” he says. His voice has a comforting cadence, you think. It’s been six weeks since you’ve last heard it, since you were always too scared to call him. But it’s a sound like coming home.

“Hi,” you speak softly.

There’s a bouquet in his hands, which he holds out to you, one hand tucked in his jeans. “I brought these for you.”

You take them gingerly, trying to fight the grin that threatens to split your face in half. He’s so cute. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

You put them on the table just inside. Tashi will eventually make her way downstairs and put them in some water for you. Closing the door, you turn back to Art, who holds his hand out to you. It’s such a strangely innocent gesture that you almost catch yourself giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Shall we?”

You take it, grinning like a madman. “We shall.”

“I never got to hear what you want to major in.” The fry in your hand is currently being waved around as though you’re conducting an orchestra.

“Oh. I don’t know,” Art averts his eyes to his plate. “I haven’t thought about it much.”

“I won’t judge,” you prompt gently.

He looks contemplative, and wets his bottom lip with his tongue briefly before looking up at you. “Okay.”

“Okay…” You gesture your fry towards him.

“You promise you won’t judge?” He asks, bobbing his head questioningly at you

You lean towards the table with your hand over your heart. “I swear it.”

“Physics. Or engineering.”

Sitting back in your seat, you survey him.

“That suits you,” you say genuinely. After you’ve said the words, you’re reminded all too well of the night in the hotel room again, and your cheeks warm.

“Thanks,” Art says, gazing at you. “Patrick says that too, before he calls me a loser.”

“I’m guessing you’re more studious than he is.”

“You’d be right.”

Another sip of your milkshake. “I think it’s cool. Maybe we’ll even have some classes together.”

Art smiles his eye-crinkling smile across the table. “Yeah, maybe we will.��

You don’t even need to pretend to shiver. The second you’ve stepped out of the restaurant, Art’s jacket is slipped onto your shoulders. It’s warm, and smells faintly like sandalwood mixed with laundry detergent. You resist the urge to inhale the collar. Instead you smile shyly, and take his hand. There’s a knot forming in your chest at the thought of the night being over, but when the two of you reach his car, Art doesn’t take out his keys. He turns and leans against the side of his car, hand still entwined with your own.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he says simply.

Your lips quirk up in amusement. “So did I.”

He hums. Your hands are swung from side to side as he looks down at them. You can’t help the laugh that escapes you as you step closer.

“What are you thinking about?” you whisper. You know what he’s thinking about.

He looks down at you, and does a one shoulder shrug. “I’m thinking about how much I want to kiss you.”

Your heart stops and gets jumpstarted again in the span of about six milliseconds. God. You knew it was coming, but you still couldn’t prepare yourself.

“Not asking anymore, are we?” You grin, chest thumping like crazy.

“Oh, come on.” With a tug on your hand, you’re pulled flush against him, chest to chest.

Art leans in to your ear, and whispers as if divulging a well-kept secret. “May I please kiss you?”

The tickle of his breath over your jaw sends a zap of electricity through every single nerve in your body. Your breath hitches. “You may.”

You’re not sure you’ll ever get sick of Art Donaldson’s smile. The curve of his mouth as he leans in, brushing his nose to yours before your lips meet.

Your computer pings.

Patrick Zweig sent you a friend request.

You raise an eyebrow and hit ‘accept.’

A minute later, there’s another notification.

Patrick Zweig wrote on your wall. “Congratulations on a successful first date with @Art Donaldson! 😘”.

#challengers #challengers x reader #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #tashi duncan x reader #challengers imagines #tashi duncan #art donaldson #patrick zweig #mike faist #josh o'connor #zendaya #written works !

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andersonfilms · 6 months

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lifeguard!abby who is a cocky girl flaunting her washboard abs when she wears a sport swim top and vibrant red shorts hugging her ass perfectly. she knows just how hot she truly is and she uses it to her advantage anytime she sees you. like clockwork, wednesday evening rolls around and you show up with two friends. abby is thankful for the protection of her sunglasses, hiding her baby blues as her eyes look at you from time to time. checking out the way your tits sit in the bikini top you’re wearing. impossible to ignore the way her pussy flutters for you.

lifeguard!abby who truly knows how to fuck. she’s nasty about it, too. she’ll close up the private pool and you’re conveniently there after hours with her. somehow abby ends up in the pool with her top discarded on the poolside, your bikini top abandoned with it as she’s knuckle deep inside you.

“feels good baby, yeah? like it when i fuck you with my fingers, huh. your fucking cunt is so tight for me. can never stay away from me. need to be here every week on the dot so i can fuck you.” abby removes her fingers and you whimper at the loss.

abby lays her tongue flat, before licking up your slit in it’s entirety. you shiver instantly, soft thighs beginning to tremble.

“nope, fuck, it’s pathetic isn’t it?”

she pulls away for a moment, leaning her head on your warm thigh. “well i guess you’re in luck, angel. i love my whores when they’re fucking pathetic for me. now, be good for me and hold my hair baby. need to fuck you with my mouth, yeah?”

thankful for the lovely @flowersforvi for getting my brain here.

#if saw this the first time no you didnt #abby anderson #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader

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bucks-babe · 10 months

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Friends Don't Lie

Paring: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Wanting to know if your crush likes you, you go to Bucky for help, the only problem is, Bucky is your crush

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, Smut (oral f receiving, p in v), unprotected sex (don’t do that), friends to lovers, crying, praise kink, soft!Bucky is a warning, Roommate!Bucky, Bucky calls reader kid just to piss her off for a bit but not when they’re doing the thang thang, no actual age gap though, no use of Y/N

Word count: Over 5k Idk what happened

A/N: This is my first ever fic so please go easy on me. If I missed any warnings, please let me know. Any and all mistakes are my own

Sighing, you walk into the apartment you share with Bucky. He’s sitting on the couch sporting his signature grumpy frown. Your heart beats that much faster when you lay your eyes on him. Honestly, you don’t know how he looks that hot with just a black t-shirt and jeans on.

“Hey, what’s got your panties in a twist, Buck,” you chime as you plop down onto the couch next to him, now noticing the bottle of whiskey in his hands. He only glances at you before taking another swig of his whiskey.

“My panties aren’t in a twist, kid,” he huffs.

You cringe at the nickname he gave you. In all reality, you were only 3 years younger than him, but he knows how much you hate being called kid. In true Bucky fashion, he calls you kid all the time, just to get under your skin. “Really, then why are you drinking at,” you check your phone for the time before cocking your eyebrow, “2 o’clock in the afternoon?”

He completely ignores your question so you press on. “Well since you aren’t doing anything, I need your help.”

This seems to catch his attention just a little, “With what?”

“Well…” you trail off only to continue when you catch his eye, “I need some relationship advice and I can’t go to Sam about it because he is the worst.”

“I’m supposed to be good at relationship advice? I’m not the right person to come to, kid.” He replies, seemingly even more annoyed than he was before you walked into the apartment, and takes another swig out of his bottle.

You snatch the bottle out of his hand (ignoring Bucky’s Hey! That’s mine!) and take a swallow, “You know how much I hate being called kid, Buck. But yes, I need relationship advice”

“Why can’t you go to Sam about this; he seems to think that he is an expert at everything?” he practically whines as he rolls his eyes and leans back into the couch, spreading his legs and giving you a great view of his thick thighs in those jeans.

“Because, Buck, Sam will just make fun of me, and I know for a fact he cant help me with this.” To be fair to Sam, he would probably give you good advice, but he would make fun of you for your crush on Bucky.

“And I won’t?” Bucky scoffs before taking the bottle back from your hands.

“Well, you would make fun of me, but Sam would never let me live it down, okay,” you can already feel your cheeks starting to heat up and regret seeping into your pores for talking to the very person you want to be in a relationship with about relationship advice.

“I think I already know who you need the advice about, don’t I,” Bucky turns his head toward you and cocks an eyebrow.

“What!” It feels like ice is coursing throughout your entire body. There is no way that he knows you're talking about him. “Uh… wh-who do you think I’m talking about?” Nice save, dipshit. You are mentally punching yourself in the face.

He takes one final gulp of his whiskey, wiping his mouth with the back of his palm, and sets the bottle on the coffee table, “I’m pretty sure I know who you have feelings for. The question is, do you really think you have a chance?” Oh my God - he knows and this is his fucking warning to walk away. Pretend like this never happened and leave - now

“Who-who do you think I’m talking about.” Wow, nice save. Always repeat the question, it never makes you look more suspicious. If he wasn’t onto you already, he sure as hell knows now.

“It’s rather obvious, don’t you think?” God you hope not, “Let me guess, Rogers?”Huh? an amused, little smirk appears on his face, blue eyes waiting for your reaction.

“St-Steve?!” Okay, not where you thought this was going but at least he doesn’t know you like him.

“You’re blushing,” he puts an arm over the back of the couch and crosses one leg over the other, “and stuttering. Seems like I was right, huh?” that stupid, gorgeous smirk is still on his lips.

“No! I do not have a crush on Steve Rogers! Ew, no. Why would you even think that, Buck?” Maybe you shouldn’t have had such a visceral reaction to him thinking you liked Steve, but you’ve never seen Steve as anything other than a great friend; however, once you started talking, you couldn’t stop. “I do like someone, Buck, but the thing is… well I don’t know how to tell if they like me back. I mean, every relationship I’ve been in has been so…so superficial. I would like them, but I don’t think they ever liked me, you know? It was always about the sex and what I could give them.” Shut up Shut up “This is why I need your help. I’ve never had someone like me for me and I don’t know how to tell if what I feel for this guy, who is most definitely not Steve, is reciprocated.” Why are you still talking?!

“Calm down, kid,” Bucky’s hands on your shoulders cut you off from your rant. The smirk is gone from his face, replaced with a look that is slightly less grumpy looking than his normal face. “It’s only me, remember? I’m sure whoever this guy is, he likes you for who you are, kid.” He once again leans back against the couch.

Your scoff brings the smirk back to his face, which is now more annoying than pretty.

“You know what, I think I’m just going to go to bed.” As you go to get up from the couch, Bucky grabs your wrist and pulls you back next to him, much closer than you were before.

“Who is it, kid? I can help you, only if you tell me who it is.” It feels like he is staring into your soul, like he can see right through you and you hate it. Fear bubbles up inside of you.

“Why do you need to know who the guy is, huh? I need advice and you said you would help me.” He’s getting too close to the truth; if he keeps pressing the matter, he’s going to find out that it's him you like, and that will not end well. You can feel the heat coming off of his body just like his stare is heating your cheeks.

“Kid, just tell me who it is you like and I can help.” He leans forward in his seat and you can tell that he is getting pissed off. Maybe you're reading too much into the situation, but Bucky might be getting mad because he likes you? Impossible.

“Help how? Do you know who likes me?” Smooth

“I can tell you if this guy, who isn’t Steve, likes you, I just need a name first, kid.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, making it very clear that he is not happy with how the conversation is going.

“Wait! You do know if someone likes me!” You’re desperately clutching at straws to keep his attention off of who you like, knowing that it’s fruitless.

“Yeah, I do. But right now I don’t care because you still won’t tell me who you like.” Bastard! That stupid, pretty smirk is back and he knows he won.

“I’ll make you a deal, you tell me who already likes me, and I’ll tell you who I like.”

“Deal.” Rolling his eyes, Bucky finally leans back and it feels like you can catch your breath again. “It’s Sam, he likes you, kid.” Bucky knows that he is lying through his teeth, but he is a great liar and this will get you to tell him who your crush is.

“Sam?” You can’t help the way your face falls or the disappointment in your voice. You knew it was a long shot, Bucky liking you that is, but he didn’t even bat an eyelash when telling you that Sam of all people liked you.

“Yep,” he pops the p. “Sammy boy likes you. Now, who do you like?” He can’t even pretend to care about throwing Sam under the bus or who he will now hate for the rest of time for taking his girl from him before he could make you his.

“Uh… it’s Sam. Yep…Sam. I like Sam, so this actually works out really great… thanks, Buck.” It sounds like a lie even to your own ears, let alone to Bucky’s.

“Come on, kid. Spit it out.” Somehow Bucky’s final braincells piece together your reaction. You like him. That is the only explanation as to why you won’t tell him who you like. “Kid, do you like me?”

You start to choke on your own spit and if you weren’t blushing before, you definitely are now. “Wh-wh-what? You? No!”

Bucky’s eyes light up just a fraction and his right hand cups your chin. “You like me, kid.” It’s not framed as a question, but rather a statement. Maybe it was the whiskey finally taking effect, but he tilts your head so you are looking directly at him and your breath hitches in your throat. “I like you, too.” It’s a whisper, but it pulls you out of your stupor.

You wheel back and jerk out of his grasp. “That’s not funny, asshole. Who said that I liked you?”

“Me.” Was his only response. “Didn’t you hear what I said, kid? I like you, too,” a chuckle left his lips.

“That is not funny, Buck. Don’t play with my feelings like that.” You don’t know why, but you feel tears begin to well up in your eyes. For a second, you thought that Bucky liked you back, but this was all some cruel joke. Of course Bucky was just messing with you.

“Hey, kid, look at me. Don’t cry.” The smirk on his face is gone, leaving only concern; this is worse, those pretty eyes looking at you with pity. “I wasn’t joking. I actually like you back, okay.” Guilt bubbles up in his chest when he sees tears fall down your cheeks. “Aw, sweets, you’re too pretty to cry.” He coos, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“What did you just call me?” The pet name seems to bring you back to the moment. You’ve never heard him call anyone sweets, and the name made you feel special inside.

“Huh?” Now it is Bucky’s turn to be confused.

“You called me sweets, not kid.” You tilted your head, feeling your heart rate pick up.

“Well, it would be a little weird if I called you kid when I do this.” His face was only centimeters away; you could feel his breath on your lips. He was waiting for you to give the all clear, a sign that this was okay. You were the first one to make a move, closing the gap between you two.

When your lips connected, you let out an involuntary moan; you’ve dreamed about kissing him and what he would taste like but nothing could compare to the real thing. He tasted of the whiskey he was sipping on and something distinctly Bucky that you couldn’t put your name on, but frankly you didn’t care when he was kissing you so good.

With his hands still on your jaw, he tilts your head to where he wants it, making you gasp. His tongue enters your mouth and now it’s his turn to moan. One of his hands falls down to your thigh and he pulls you into his lap, not breaking the kiss.

You were the first one to pull away, regrettingly, but you needed oxygen and as much as you wish you could breathe him in, it wasn’t possible to sustain life. You wrap your arms around his middle and bury yourself into his neck, and the arm around your thigh travels up to your waist, while his other hand goes to the back of your head.

“Hey, easy, sweets. I can barely breathe.” You can feel more than hear Bucky’s chuckle, but you only bury yourself deeper into his shoulder, feeling a sudden rush of emotions. Never in a million years did you think that Bucky would kiss you, or that you would be on his lap. “Are you okay, sweets? Come on, talk to me.” Bucky can feel how tense you are on top of him, and it makes him worry.

Once again, there are tears in your eyes. At this point, you don’t know if they ever went away, “I just never thought that you would like me, you know?” The hand on your head doesn’t try to pull you away, but rather massages where it lays.

“Well, I do, sweets, so you’re gonna have to get used to me. How about that?” You just nod into his shoulder and wiggle deeper into his embrace. Bucky lets out a low groan and the hand on your back drops down to your hip, holding you in place. “You’re gonna have to stop moving, sweets.” You can feel the hard bulge in his pants from you moving around, causing a giggle to leave your lips, the tears once again subsiding.

“Oh, you think this is funny, huh, kid?” He brings back the nickname just to tease you and you know it.

“Hey! I’m sitting on your dick right now, please don’t call me kid, Buck.” Bucky throws his head back and the most beautiful laugh leaves his mouth. He’s laughing so hard that you are slightly bouncing on his lap and your core hits the raised zipper of his pants. A whine leaves your lips while his laughter turns into a choked groan.

“Fuck, sweets, come here.” He pulls you back in for another kiss while he leans back into the couch. Involuntarily, your hips grind against his and he is swallowing your moans in his mouth.

You sit up a little and pull him up with you. Tugging at the bottom of his shirt causes him to break your kiss, “You want my shirt off, sweets?” You can only whine in response and tug on it again, but Bucky isn’t helping you take his shirt off until you speak.

“Please, Buck.” God you’re already out of breath and he’s only kissed you.

“That’s a good girl. See that wasn’t so hard was it?” Oh fuck. A high pitched moan leaves your throat at his praise. Bucky chuckles, he’s found your praise kink and he’s not going to let it go now.

He takes pity on you and takes his shirt off, but doesn’t give you time to ogle at his shirtless body before his hands are underneath your hoodie, warm palms running up and down your naked skin. “Can I take this off, pretty girl? Can I see my pretty baby, huh?” You nod your head so fast you make yourself slightly dizzy, but he makes no move to actually remove your top, waiting for you to speak.

“Yes, Bucky. I want you to take it off please.” A hum of approval leaves him as he takes your hoodie off.

“Fuck,” it comes out under his breath when he sees you in just your bra and pants. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. You know that? You know how pretty you are?” Fuck, you can’t do this. He’s saying the things you always wanted him to say to you, but now you don’t know how to handle it. He lays you down on the couch and you can feel the outline of his hard cock through both of your pants.

When his hand goes up you back to your bra, your brain goes into overdrive. “This isn’t just sex, right?” You need this to mean something to him too. It can’t just be sex; you can’t do just sex. It would break your heart.

Bucky chuckles a little before giving you a chaste kiss, clearly missing your desperation for it meaning something more. “Let me show you how much you mean to me, sweets? Let me make you feel good.” His hands are on your leggings, fingers in the waistband.

“You won’t leave me after, right? You’ll stay with me?” God, are you crying again? This might be your only chance to be with him and you’re blowing it! The crack in your voice gets his attention and his hands leave your bottoms to cup your face once again, thumbs wiping your tears.

“Hey, sweets, look at me?” You meet his eyes; they are filled with a softness you’ve never seen from him before. “Of course I won’t leave you. I just got you, and now you’re going to be stuck with me for a very long time, okay, sweet girl? You’re mine and I’m yours.” He rests his forehead on yours after kissing all of your tears away.

“You’re mine?”

“All yours, okay?” After you nod, he pulls you back up so you're sitting on his lap and holds you close to his chest. “How about we just calm down for a little bit, okay? I didn’t mean to push you too far, sweets.” He’s so perfect. How did you get him?

“No. I’m okay, it’s just that…well I don’t want you to leave me after you get what you want, Buck.” This is so unsexy; there is no way he is going to want to sleep with you now

“Look at me, sweets.” You look at him, “Good girl.” Fuck. “I want you. Not just your body. I want to take you out on dates and annoy all of our friends with how cute we look together. I want it all.” He’s looking into your eyes with such sincerity that it feels like you could break and all of your doubts leave your mind.

You grind your hips against his still hard cock, “Will you make love to me, Buck?”

He groans lowly before gaining his composure again, “Are you sure, sweet girl? We don’t have to do anything, you know that?” But you want to, so bad.

“I know and I’m sure I want you.” He’s looking into your soul; he never wants to hurt you. “Please?” It’s the doe eyes that break him and he picks you up and carries you to his room like you weigh nothing.

“I’m gonna make love to you, sweet girl. If you want me to stop, just say the word, okay? But I promise it won’t change how I feel about you.” He is looking into the depths of your soul, making sure this is what you want; there is nothing you want more in this moment than Bucky finally loving you.

Instead of a verbal response, you wrap both your arms and legs around him so his whole body is on top of yours on his bed and you kiss him again. You are surrounded by everything Bucky; his room smells so good that you want to spend forever in it with him.

Calloused palms slide up your back to meet the clasp on your bra and Bucky breaks the kiss, staring at your swollen lips before catching your eye, “Can I take this off, sweets?” Taking your bra off swiftly after he hears your breathly ‘yes,’ his hands find purchase on your ribs.

“Fuck,” his groan makes you attempt to close your legs to find some release, but his waist stops your legs from moving even an inch. “Your tits are absolutely gorgeous, you know that? God, sweets, do you feel how hard you make me? This is all for you.”

You arch your back, pushing your breasts further into his field of view, gasping when his right hand cups your breast, tweaking your nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Please, touch me, Buck!” You already sound cock drunk and he hasn’t even done anything to you, but you can’t find it in you to care.

Cocking his head to the side and chuckling, he whispers in your ear, “I am touching you, sweets.” That son of a bitch! “Where do you want me to touch you, huh?”

You grab his unoccupied hand and lead it down to your pants but he doesn’t budge, refusing to touch your clothed pussy. “Touch you where, sweet girl? I need words or I can’t please you.”

Cheeks heating up, you finally give up, just wanting him to touch you, pleasure you, anything. “My pussy, Bucky! Touch my pussy!”

“Atta girl. I knew you could do it.” How does he know all the right things to say?

He leaves a trail of kisses from your neck, to your chest, down your belly, until he reaches the hem of your leggings; looking up at you, waiting for your permission, “Take my pants off, please.”

Another wave of slick goes straight to your core when he whispers, “Such a good girl, using her words,” as he takes your pants off, leaving your panties on your core. Shit, I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet in my life.

Bucky’s thumb goes up and down over your pussy, slightly pushing down over your entrance, making your panties that much wetter, then sliding his thumb up to your clit. Your thighs unconsciously tighten around his head and hips jerk up when he does it again, and again, and again.

Breathy moans and gasps leave your lips before he gently pushes your thighs back with a small chuckle, and pushes your panties to the side, getting his first glance at the pussy he has been dreaming about.

“Such a pretty pussy to match the prettiest girl in the world, don’t you think?” He doesn’t wait for a response this time, instead his mouth latches onto your clit and the moan that leaves his mouth is almost louder than your own.

He can’t bring himself to pull away for a single moment, rather speaking into your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your entire core. A small huff leaves his lips when your thighs wrap around his head again; he’s going to make sure you stay put right where you are so he can keep licking your pussy until he is satisfied. He laces both of his hands with yours when you reach down toward him, because you need to be able to ground yourself.

So lost in your own pleasure, you almost don’t notice that Bucky is grinding against the bed, desperate for any type of friction, dick being the hardest that it has ever been. He’s sure that he could blow his load at any moment, but he wants this to be good for you, needs it to be good for you, so he is holding back with all his might, but fuck if he can’t stop moving his hips he won’t make it inside of you. And the sounds that are coming out of your mouth are making it almost impossible for him to do that.

Your thighs clamp around his head somehow even harder when you feel your orgasm approaching, effectively suffocating Bucky. He doesn’t care; he can breathe when you come on his tongue. You don’t even have time to announce that you’re going to cum before the strongest orgasm of your life rips through you. Bucky’s muffled moans are even more distant over the blood rushing through your ears, eyes finding purchase in the back of your head, you don’t know if you went silent because the orgasm knocked all the wind out of your, or if you are going to get a knock on the door from the police because they think you’ve been murdered.

When Bucky comes back up for air, the whole of his lower face is covered with your slick, and that gorgeous smirk is back on his face. “Thank you, sweet girl. That was amazing.” Did he cum, too? Please don’t tell me I missed seeing his face when he cums.

Seeing your dilemma, Bucky chuckles, “Don’t worry, sweets, my cock is still rock hard for you. Although, I did almost cum watching you. You have no idea how pretty you look when you cum.” You’re too fucked out to even be embarassed at how easily he can read you, or his knowledge of how much you want his cock.

While you're still coming down, Bucky finishes taking off your panties and the rest of his clothes. The moment he pulls his jeans and boxers down and his cock springs up, you gasp. You’ve never seen a prettier cock in all of your life: thick and long with a vein that you want to spend hours licking goes from base to tip, flush head partially covered by his foreskin, heavy and full balls that you know wouldn’t even be able to fit in your mouth rest at his base.

Your eyes never leave his cock as he climbs back into bed, salivating at the way it bobs as he walks and the precum dripping from his tip. “Can I suck your cock, Bucky, please?” Damn, you’ve never begged to suck a cock in your life.

Moaning at the way it twitches at your begging, you reach out for it but Bucky stops you.

“Next time, sweet girl, promise. I need to be inside of you right now and I won’t last if I let you do that, okay, sweets?” You whine in disappointment but nod nonetheless. You groan and wiggle your hips when he is finally on top of you again and you feel his cock slide up and down your pussy.

“Can I have it, Bucky? Can I have your cock?” Bucky looks like he is about to blow a fuse as he grips the base of his dick to stop himself from cumming.

“Sweet girl, you’re gonna have to stop saying things like that if you want this to last.” He is lining up with your entrance and you immediately shut your mouth. There will be another time to be a brat and tease him, but right now you need his dick.

“I’m ready, Bucky, I want it.” Your breath catches in your throat when his tip slides in, for all the staring you did a few minutes ago, you vastly underestimated how fucking big his dick was and now it feels like you’re being spilt in two - in the best way.

“Shit! Sweets, you’re so -fuck- you’re so tight. Choking my dick so good, baby fuck. Best pussy I’ve ever had and I’m only halfway in.” He’s mouthing at your neck while you're grabbing onto anything you can.

“Please, Bucky, more! Fuck, I want it.” You feel like you could cum again just at the sheer stretch of his cock inside of you, his deep groans spurring you on.

As he bottoms out inside of you, you feel the heavy weight of his balls against your ass, twitching wildly as he tries to stave off his own orgasm. “Oh god, you’re so fucking warm. Fuck, feels like I’m gonna blow before I even move. Shit!” Bucky is so pussy drunk he can’t even think straight, but fuck if you don’t love it.

“Please move, Bucky, please, I need you to fuck me, please!” You weren’t fairing much better, cock drunk out of your mind.

Bucky is scrambling against the sheets, trying to be closer to you somehow, as if having his impossibly thick length inside of you wasn’t enough, he wraps your legs around his waist as he starts to rut into you.

He is barely pulling out of you, not that you would let him go very far anyway with how tightly your legs are wrapped around him. “Pussy is so fucking good! I just wanna stay here forever, sweets. You want that to, fuck, huh? You want me to stay in this little pussy?”

Clawing at his back, you were a babbling mess, crying out for him, never having been in so much pleasure before. “Yes, Bucky, I want that so bad, yes.” Tears were welling up in your eyes from the sheer amount of pleasure that you were receiving from Bucky.

Rutting into you faster, his hand slid between your bodies and thumb rubbing your clit in fast circles, Bucky’s calm demeanor was gone, now he was begging for you to cum with him.

“Come on, sweets. I need -fuck- I need you to cum for me. I need to feel your little pussy cum on my cock.” His balls were slapping against your ass, making a vulgar sound, as they were covered in your slick that had trailed out of your pussy.

“Can feel you clenching around me, pretty girl.”

“Need you to cum first, please.”

“Want you to soak my cock.”

“Be my good girl and cum.”

Maybe it was the good girl, but the second orgasm that tore through your body was even better than the first and the clenching of your pussy sent Bucky over the end, into his own orgasm.

“Fuck, sweet girl, I’m gonna cum for you. I got so much fucking cum and it’s all for you. Shit, I’m cumming!” You felt his cock twitch once, twice, and balls pull up before his cum was coating the inside of your pussy.

After you both came down from your highs, Bucky slowly pulled out, catching the wince that left you at the emptiness of your cunt. “Sweet girl, I’m going to get a cloth to clean you with and some water, but I’ll be right back, okay?” Bucky wanted to make sure that you knew that he was coming back, that he wasn’t like all of those other assholes who didn’t treat you right.

Your faint ‘okay’ was the green light for Bucky to dash to the bathroom to clean himself up, get a rag for you, and then head to the kitchen to get a glass of water for you. He paid special attention when wiping you clean, not wanting to overstimulate you after having multiple orgasms.

He helped you sip your water before covering you both up and holding you close to his chest. Never in your life had you felt so safe and loved than you did at this moment, wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, confident that he would stay with you even after having sex with you.

“You know that I love you, right, sweet girl? And I’m not going anywhere.” He whispered into your hair.

“I do now. And I love you, too, Buck.”

After a little while, you raise yourself on his chest a little so you can look into his eyes, “Hey, Buck?”

“Yeah, sweets?” No one has ever looked at me with so much love.

“Does Sam actually have a crush on me?” Bucky throws his head back into the pillows with an exaggerated groan while you try to muffle your giggles. For once, you actually have what you’ve always wanted.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #smut #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader

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papayadays · 2 months

Text

biker girl

⁀➷ summary: oscar x australian bmx!reader - you just won gold, of course your boyfriend is gonna cheer you on

⁀➷ a/n: was watching olympic bmx and felt inspired bc saya was so good and deserved that gold sm (also ignore how i used her brother kai for an oscar substitute 😅)

⁀➷ fc: saya sakakibara!

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, ausolympicteam, and 1,385 others

yourusername into the finals at paris! worked hard to get here, and hopefully it’ll pay off 👊

oscarpiastri i’ll be cheering you on from the stands 🧡

-> papayalife tooth rotting 🤧

ausolympicteam bring it home! 🇦🇺

bmxtremey gold medal??

-> strayamate shh don’t jinx it!

mcaussie okay but oscar cheering her on in the stands?

-> oioioi ikr sobbing 😭

f1gossip

liked by oscarpiastri, f1fanz, and 1,927 others

f1gossip Formula 1 driver Oscar Piastri was seen entering the Saint-Quentin-en-Yvelines BMX Stadium decked out in Australian gear ahead of his girlfriend’s Olympic final.

orangemcarmy plsss not oscar liking the post 💀

ausolympicteam thanks for the support! 🫶

pastrypiastri WAG duties fr

-> formuleforza that’s what i thought too lmao

oskoala my favorite aussie driver supporting my favorite aussie olympian

bikelifex her good luck charm

liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 3,279 others

oscarpiastri my amazing girlfriend, everyone 😌 sweetheart, i’m so proud of you for reaching your dreams and making all of australia proud. you deserve this so much & i love you so much 💛💚

yourusername osc 🥹 i love you too, thank you for supporting me 🧡

-> koalamx i love how they use each other’s colors 🤧

mcmclaren best wag award goes to oscar

landonorris yeah yeah we get it mate (congrats though)

formeuler1 cutest sport power couple

-> rooslife and they’re both aussies!

-> lightsin and they both go to each other’s races!

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 4,629 others

yourusername GOLD!! what a journey! thank you so much for everyone who has supported me along the way, this one’s for you 💕

oscarpiastri 😍

-> yourusername 🥰

-> oscarbmx your honor i love them

mclaren that’s our girl!

-> ausolympicteam 🤨 our girl, you mean?

downunderf1 QUEEN 🙌

aussiegrit nice race out there

-> webbonso pls 😭 i wonder how oscar bribed him to comment that

paris2024 legendary race! 👏

mottocrox we were all cheering for you!

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theodorenmyth · 2 months

Note

Reader being a short Slytherin student who’s friends with Theodore and mattheo. Like sometimes those two would pick reader up when they can’t get something. It’s just a bunch of shenanigans when reader is angry cause when they’re angry, it’s hell. Literally reader had one time jumped across the table to fight someone. Mattheo was amused, Theodore…he was shook

-🤬

Angry Squeaks

Pairings ; Theodore Nott x GN!Reader x Mattheo Riddle

Summary ; Being the shortest Slytherin in your year comes with its challenges, but with Theodore Nott and Mattheo Riddle by your side, you always manage. When Cormac McLaggen insults you one too many times, you snap, leading to chaos in the Great Hall. As tempers flare and fists fly, Theo and Mattheo step in to keep you from going too far. Through detention and shenanigans, your friendship proves unbreakable, even in the face of trouble.

A/N ; I LOVE SHORT!READER 😭😭😭😭😭 ENJOY BABE

Warnings) ; none

Word count ; 800

The castle's shadows stretched long in the late afternoon sun, casting an eerie glow across the Slytherin common room. You were hunched over your Potions textbook, the latest essay due by morning. Theodore Nott lounged beside you, absently twirling his wand between his fingers, while Mattheo Riddle, sprawled on the couch, skimmed through a book on dark magic.

Your brow furrowed as you reached for a book on a higher shelf, only to find it just out of your grasp. Huffing, you turned to your friends. “Theo, can you hand me that book?”

Theo glanced up, smirking. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” you grumbled.

“Good,” he replied with a grin, before rising to pluck the book off the shelf and holding it just out of your reach. “Come on, give it a try.”

“Give what a try?” you asked, eyes narrowing.

“Jump for it,” Theo said, his smile widening.

You scowled. “Are you fucking insane? I am not jumping for it. Give it to me.”

Before you could protest further, Mattheo walked over, scooped you up effortlessly, and held you aloft. “There, now you can reach it,” he said with a chuckle.

You grabbed the book and slapped Mattheo's shoulder lightly. “Put me down, you oaf!”

Mattheo complied, setting you back on the floor gently. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he said, ruffling your hair.

“Sometimes I hate you both,” you muttered, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your true feelings.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The next day, breakfast in the Great Hall was bustling with students, the usual chatter and laughter filling the air. You were sitting with Theo and Mattheo, enjoying a quiet moment, when you heard a familiar and unwelcome voice behind you.

“Well, if it isn’t the Slytherin dwarf,” Cormac McLaggen sneered, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

Your blood boiled instantly. You gripped your fork tightly, trying to maintain your composure. Theo noticed and placed a calming hand on your shoulder. “Ignore him,” he murmured.

But ignoring wasn’t an option. Not today.

You stood up, spinning around to face McLaggen. “What did you just call me?”

McLaggen’s smirk grew wider. “You heard me. Didn’t know they let house elves sit with the students.”

Without a second thought, you launched yourself across the table, sending plates and goblets flying. You tackled McLaggen, fists flying, landing a few solid punches before anyone could react.

“Bloody hell!” Mattheo shouted, rushing to pull you off McLaggen, who was now sporting a bloody nose and a look of utter shock.

Theo stood frozen, eyes wide. “What the hell just happened?”

You struggled against Mattheo’s hold, still fuming. “He called me a dwarf!”

Mattheo held you firmly, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. “And you decided to show him how wrong he was by… what, breaking his face?”

“Let me go!” you growled, still seething.

“Not until you calm down,” Mattheo said firmly, finally setting you down but keeping a protective arm around you.

Professor McGonagall was approaching, her expression a mix of disapproval and concern. “What is the meaning of this?!”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down. “He insulted me,” you said through gritted teeth.

McGonagall’s stern gaze shifted to McLaggen, who was being helped up by his friends. “Mr. McLaggen, you will come with me. As for you,” she turned to you, “Detention, tonight. And consider this a warning. Physical altercations are not acceptable.”

You nodded, still trembling with anger. “Yes, Professor.”

As McGonagall led McLaggen away, Theo finally found his voice. “That was… intense.”

Mattheo released you, shaking his head with a laugh. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You shrugged, still glaring in the direction McLaggen had been taken. “He had it coming.”

The rest of the day was a blur of whispered conversations and sideways glances, but you didn’t care. As the sun set, you made your way to detention, only to find Mattheo and Theo waiting outside the classroom.

“What are you two doing here?” you asked, surprised.

“Thought we’d keep you company,” Theo said with a shrug. “Detention’s no fun alone.”

Mattheo grinned. “Besides, we couldn’t let you have all the fun, could we?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, guys.”

The three of you spent the evening cleaning cauldrons and scrubbing floors, but the company made it bearable. Theo’s jokes and Mattheo’s sarcastic comments kept you laughing, and by the end of detention, your anger had dissipated entirely.

As you walked back to the Slytherin common room, you felt a wave of gratitude for your friends. They might drive you crazy sometimes, but they always had your back.

“Next time,” Theo said, slinging an arm around your shoulders, “let us handle the insults, okay? No need to go all berserk on them.”

You chuckled. “Deal. But only if you promise to keep me from getting into more trouble.”

Mattheo smirked. “No promises. Trouble seems to follow you wherever you go.”

“Or maybe I’m the one following it,” you replied with a grin.

“Either way,” Theo said, “we’ll be there with you.”

“Always,” Mattheo added.

With friends like these, you knew you could handle anything—even the taunts of a certain Gryffindor.

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24kvlaks · 1 month

Text

Horny pals.

How slashers act when they’re horny.

TW: implied sex.

Dominic- the dare.

Dominic had zero sexual experience so he’s more rational but a tad impulsive at times when it comes down to it.

If you just so happened to brush against it in a hug he’d ignore the pulsing. Though it’d kill him internally.

He’s the type to wait it out or go somewhere private to fix his problem.

If you wanted to help him he’d but confuse but more than happy to agree.

You’d take his cock in your mouth and bob your head on the tip, you’d try to tease him but he’d likely lose control and just face fuck you.

He’d let you get up for breathers but as soon as you seemed to have gathered yourself enough he’d make you go back to gagging.

His thick hand grabbing your curls and letting his cock hit the back of your throat.

One time you passed out and he thought he had killed you. You should’ve seen the poor boy contemplating whether he should just call the police and risk going to jail.

He’s big on pussy pounding! He loves missionary. Face to face. He loved reaching your face distort not even noticing how fucked out he looked.

He loves it when you sit on his lap, especially whilst he’s working on mask. Or new torture designs.

Bouncing on his thick bulge.

It doesn’t last long though because he either cums in his pants, or just fucks you until he does.

Huge size kink he loves how thick his cock looks coming out of your tight cunt. How it tightens around him and creams all over his shaft.

He goes feral once you scratch his back, or call him a good boy. He’s a whimpering mess.

(KINK BOARD- Good boy kink, size fetish, missionary kink, mouth fetish, grinding kink)

Bubba sawyer

He’s a virgin obviously. Of course he goes into his little basement to play with himself. One time Hoyt caught him and made fun of him!

He cried himself to sleep.

But when you caught him and teased him about it, it just felt so different. He felt his cock pulsing. Like he was masturbating without touching it.

The first time you had sex he was on a mental rollercoaster! Doubting if he did good, wondering if he fucked you good enough!

He didn’t want to crush you, poor baby was so big he ended up breaking his bed!

He lacks self control yet is very self conscious! He’d rub his big ole boner into you until he’s busted. Only if you’d allow it.

He hates igniting sex.

He’d let himself get blue balls then asking first. One time he busted a nut just by you calling him a good boy. He loves it when you sit and fondle with his balls.

He loves giving you back shots! He takes off his mask during sex because it’s hard to breathe in it.

But he doesn’t want you to see what he thinks is a hideous face so he’d stick to pounding your tight asshole or pussy.

He’s a big ass guy. If you’re wearing a skirt he’ll play with himself in secret. Always forgetting to fully wash hid hands and ends up getting caught with cum on them.

Watching you lick it off his bloody fingers.

Believe it or not he loves it when you smother his face with your juices, just like cannibalism! Except he doesn’t have to kill you.

He doesn’t have a nose so you don’t have to worry about hurting his bone marrow. And can just go ham on his tongue.

He eats your pussy as a sport. He enjoys it!

Sometimes he’d just do it for himself because he genuinely enjoys the taste.

He loves playing with your cum. It’s just proof he has done such a good job. He’s such a good good boy for his baby.

He’d sit and play with your cum as it’s leaking out of your throbbing pussy with excited little squeals!

(KINK BOARD- good boy kink, cum play, oral kink, face riding, masturbation kink)

Michael Myers

Michaels a virgin; obviously because he spent nearly his entire life in the asylum. Though he has some experience.

He’s watched his sister have sex openly around him.

And he’s killed plenty of teenagers whilst they were fucking.

So it was no surprise what he was into.

When Michael wanted it he got it, if he was horny no matter what you were doing he’d pull you by your hair and just fuck you until you were unresponsive.

He enjoyed watching you turn blue as he choked you. Watching your face distort from pleasure and pain.

He’d use his knife from time to time. Sometimes stabbing it in the counter and using it to scare you.

Slicing you once or twice just to see the blood spill.

He bruised you up, I mean people started to think you were being abused by your boyfriend! He surprisingly didn’t mind oral though it wasn’t his favorite.

He’d hold you down as you’d scream to be able to breathe. Hands in your hair as you choked around his cock.

He’d toss you around until he was done with you.

He loved hiding as you played with yourself, not aware he was there watching.

He didn’t like masturbation, he didn’t understand the point of it. If he had someone to control his urges control them.

Take his cock until he was done.

He loved restraining you, grabbing both of your wrist in one hands as you screamed for him to take it gentle.

He loved how blood looked on you. Coming home after a fresh kill and covering you in his mess.

He hated teasing.

One time you tried he choked you unconscious with his dick out.

Big guy was into sleep fucking.

Taking what he wanted as you slept, waking you up with a pussy full of killer dick.

He was rough, sometimes it wasn’t even pleasure just pure pain. He was a monster, and he fucked you reckless in bed.

He loved scaring you. Sometimes he’d pretend he’s going to kill you just to watch you run away in fear screaming. He’d hurt you during these chases. He loved the thrill.

Watching you run through the woods, bloody and hurt. Before disappearing coming home and fucking you later.

(KINK BOARD- chase kink, bruising kink, hair pulling kink, restraint kink, blood kink, knife play, choking, voyeur kink.

Jason Voorhees.

Jason’s obviously a virgin. He’s very shy about sex. His mother always told him that doing stuff like that was sinning and naughty.

Which is partially the reason he killed whoever he caught in the act.

Jason never masturbated. He was used to dealing with blue balls, he never understood why he couldn’t touch himself or have sex. He thought it was just because he considered himself ugly:

When you two had sex it was sensual. He loved taking care of you after or getting taken care of!

Despite what his mother said he loved watching you play with yourself.

Or wrapping your hand on top of his whilst he masturbated. He loved being called a good boy.

Jason is very slow when it comes down to sex. He’d actually kill you if he went all out!

He didn’t want to hurt you, so he’d go by your pace and by your reaction.

He doesn’t have a lot of kinks, he’s used to the usual.

He loved protective sex! If you almost got caught in one of his traps or if someone hurt you he’d fuck you all night long!

If you made him jealous he’d get insecure but soon enough once you told him that everything was okay, he’d fuck you. Just to prove to you he was good enough.

He loved holding your hand. During sex, during walks. Anything!

He loved letting you sit in his lap.

(KINK BOARD- protective fucking, together masturbation, lap sitting, hand holding, good boy kink)

Patrick Bateman.

Bateman was quite the experienced. And he didn’t want to do anything that made him feel less dominant. He wasn't shy about it, if he wanted it he got it.

He loved tying you up, rendering you helpless as he fucked you with every once of power he had.

Pulling your hair and making you look sloppy as he face fucked you.

He loved missionary! Face to face as he looked stoic watching your face expressions become uncontrollable.

Sometimes once you disobeyed him he’d grab your hair. Twisting it and sucking your neck until it was blue.

He loved marking you, especially when men occasionally looked at you.

He loved gift giving, he'd buy you a pair of expensive underwear just to tear them to shreds so he could fuck you! And give you a more expensive pair and the cycle starts again and again!

Very much into jealousy sex, Patrick thought he was two high and mighty to be jealous so when you did he'd just fuck the feeling out of you!

He didn't hide the fact that he was horny, a simple whisper in your ear and it was time to go.

Words of affection! He loved the way you'd reassure him or comb your fingers through his hair calling him handsome.

Tit playing, he seems like the type to love petite titties. A weird fetish he'd let no one know he has. Though you quickly caught on because every time you didn't wear a bra you'd go straight into the bed.

(KINK BOARD- Words of affection, tit playing, jealousy sex, gift giving, missionary kink, hair pulling, marking, restraints)

That's all folks! Lmk if i should do a part 2. and who should i include in it.

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stariikis · 5 months

Text

ni-ki as your study date •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

synopsis ; the price you paid for choosing an athletic boyfriend over an academic one? no practical help when you're drowning in mysterious equations and symbols. but at least he's good at comforting the perfectionist in you.

pairing ; athletic!nishimura riki x academic achiever!reader genre ; fluff, established rs wc ; 802 warnings n notes ; dear readers, these two are mentally suffering because one doesn't care and the other cares too much! trigger warning, bio phys chem and math mentioned..

“-And during PE we played badminton, and Jake hyung was soooo bad today. He kept trying to smash but missed the shuttlecock.” Beside you, with his “I-swear-I’ll-finish-three-chapters-today” Physics textbook hardly opened to the first page, Riki doesn’t stop rambling about the various sports he’s played today. You’ve heard enough about the goals he scored during an impromptu morning game of football. The way his best friend fumbled during a badminton match. How his legs ache from standing in the sun for hours during baseball training. You’re about to tug him out the cafe by his jersey.

“Are you going to start your notes or what?” You shove him with a lighthearted tone, barely concealing the exasperation behind your words. “All that talk about wanting to finally get an A but you still keep yapping. About sports, no less.”

Riki rolls his eyes and mock-salutes in your direction. “Yes, ma’am.”

Taking a sip of your matcha latte, you sigh resolutely and return to examine various electronic configurations. Perhaps now, Riki will leave you in peace…

Only five minutes later, you’re snapped out of focus with a sheepish nudge.

“What’s a moment…” “OH my days Nishimura Riki how can you not know what a moment is that’s like basic physics you’re supposed to have known that since we started chapter TWO.”

Shrinking under your scoldings, he glances back at his textbook, reads the definition and looks back towards you. “I don’t get it.”

With another heavy sigh, you scoot closer and attempt to explain as simply as you possibly can. However, he’s deliberately distracting you, with playful caresses through your hair and touches of kisses as smooth as silk on your cheek. You’ve got to be turning a beetroot red, but you ignore the warmth spreading through your cheeks and continue on.

“Now repeat what I just said to you.” Refusing to give in to his silly antics, you cross your arms and lean back. Swiping the hair his fingers touched, not too long ago, out the way.

He pouts, knowing him acting cute is your soft spot. “That’s not fair.”

“Why?” You press, but relent and hunch back over your notes. “You know what, just focus on relearning your balanced forces. Do you remember what the principles of moments even is?” Oh wait, he doesn’t even know what a moment is. The way he blinks once at his textbook and blinks twice your way proves this.

“At this point, I’m not dead, you’re more cooked than I am. And I am cooked.”

Gasping scandalously, he whisper shouts, “You’re literally my academic goal, what are you on? I wish I had the motivation you did. Okay, more like I wish I had your grades, but we both know that’s not happening.”

He gestures to all the bruises he’s obtained over the past week, scratches and wounds that demonstrate how dedicated he is to all the sports he partakes in. They’re his own personal souveniers. Although most fade quickly, some leave scars burning in his skin, but he’s proud of them all even when you express your concern for him.

He’s always been like that. Dismissive of concerning matters because he enjoys showing people how strong he is. Internally and externally. The complete opposite of him, one Maths question you get wrong and you start questioning the very bane of your existence.

You fall into silence, looking back at your notes. You have lost track of where Chemistry starts and ends, your paper copy of the periodic table crumpled and defaced from your bursts of frustration. You may not show it, but there’s so much going on in your head it’s hard to escape the fog you’ve mentally put yourself in. With the crazy STEM course you’ve chosen, you know that you’re definitely on the train tracks with a sign pointing towards a crash site.

Either you shut yourself out and pass with flying colours, or you enjoy life and fail miserably. There’s no in between. Is it so hard to want to maintain a social life and a healthy relationship, while topping your class and achieving high honours? Perhaps it is.

Noticing your sudden stillness, Riki panics. “You’re stressing out again. Why are you stressing out again? You’re doing well. Well, compared to me. Should I just do bio? Things with numbers are always complicated..”

You laugh as he looks back at his noteless textbook.

“Anyway, I think you’re doing just fine.” Riki murmurs, massaging your back with his hand. “Don’t overwork yourself and you’ll be fine. Just like you were, and always will be. Do you want me to test you?”

“That’d be nice…” You smile, watching his eyes light up a little too eagerly when he closes his textbook. “But you’re just saying that so you don’t have to study anymore, right?”

how life be feeling rn, send prayers

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damiansgoodgirll · 17 days

Note

reader has clearly daddy issues and has a crush on damian (she’s in her early twenties) and she romanticise everything he does for her, like driving back home etc…..but he thinks of her as a daughter or little sister and it pains her , make it angsty please ❤️❤️❤️

reader is so me lol

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️a little angsty, some feels, unwanted male attention, alcohol, reader is lana del rey coded and that’s a warning

think i need someone older

damian was older than you. much older than you. you probably had a sixteen year age gap but that never stopped you from romanticising everything he did for you.

rhea said that it was just a silly crush. she laughed when you told her that in your mind, damian was hot. but to you, he wasn’t just hot. he was kind, caring, compassionate and generous. he was all you always looked in a man.

but he would never see you the way you saw him. he always thought of you like a friend or, as he liked to call you, a little sister.

as your mind was wandering off, you couldn’t help but watch him train with rhea. they were both in the ring, practicing some moves but your focus was all on the way his body was moving, sweats falling down his chest, his long hair falling over his shoulders.

you couldn’t stop but thinking of him. every single time.

“….hello? earth to y/n?” punk distracted you and woke you from your dreams.

“uh? sorry?” you replied, a little annoyed.

“i asked, are you still using the bench or can i use it?” he repeated.

“oh, sorry…no it’s all yours” you immediately stood up, your eyes never leaving the ring.

punk thanked you but followed your eyes as they landed on rhea and damian “they’re good together”

“she’s married, you know” you didn’t mean to go into defensive mode but the idea of damian and rhea together made you throw up.

“i know…i was talking about as a tag team…they are really good together, they know how to move, how to make their enemies on their knees” punk explained, a little confused about your sudden reaction “is everything okay y/n?”

“yeah…sorry, i was just focused on learning those moves” you lied. you couldn’t care less about the moves when damian was half naked, pinning rhea down on the ring.

punk was satisfied with your answer and a twenty minutes later he was done using the bench. rhea and damian were done with their training session and they both popped out of the ring, making their way to the changing rooms. you followed them, going into the female changing room, you quickly took off your sport bra and matching leggings and cursed yourself when you saw that it started raining outside and all you had on were a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

“you’re gonna freeze in that” rhea laughed, making you roll your eyes. if it was a different day, you would have laughed but your mood was going crazy and her little sarcastic jokes weren’t funny.

she ignored you, realising you weren’t in the mood to talk and you both left the gym.

“fuck it’s freezing…” you mumbled but damian was able to hear you as he came from behind and placed his sweatshirt over your shoulders.

“here you go princesa…i don’t want you to get sick…” he smiled, making his way towards his car “do you want me to take you home? do you have a ride?” he asked and you said no.

rhea initially offered to take you home as you came to the gym with her but she was taking too long chatting with phil and you were standing under the rain, freezing and shivering.

“okay, i’ll take you home, let’s go” he smiled, opening the passenger door for you. that simple gesture made your heart warm.

the ride was nice. he spoke about some silly shows he watched last night and you weren’t even paying attention to the shows, all your focus was on his thick voice. the way he used to switch from english to spanish and then to english again made your skin shiver.

if he only knew the effect he had on you.

“everything okay y/n? you seem a little lost” he asked, awaking you from your thoughts.

“no, i’m fine…i swear, just a little tired” you smiled.

he seemed to believe it so he let it go. once you were in front of your house, you moved to take his sweatshirt off but he stopped you “keep it on” he said “you’ll give it back once it’s not raining anymore” his smile was enough to make you fall on your knees but you composed yourself and thanked him.

inside of your house you let all that rage out, letting out a loud scream that probably would have made your neighbours worry, if only they cared.

you were tired.

you were tired of constantly being rejected, you were tired of falling in love with the wrong person. you needed a distraction. you couldn’t keep crying over someone who didn’t appreciate you they way you wanted.

still wearing his hoodie, his scent filling the room, it took you two seconds to download dating apps and look for a distraction. a few guys immediately texted you. they were good looking, probably kind and nice too, but they weren’t damian.

you picked the nicest one, asking him if he was free tonight and when he said yes, you had yourself a date.

you repeated again, trying to get that feeling in your head - you needed a distraction, from damian, from your feelings towards him.

so you wore your cute little black dress, a pair of matching heels, you did your make up and hair and in less that two hours you were already in the stranger car, letting him drive and take you to some restaurant. the place he chose was nice, probably expensive too but you didn’t care. if he wanted to spend his money on you, who were you to complain?

during the date you found out that he was quite boring. always talking about himself and his job. you learned that he was working in the family business, meaning he was rich rich. you learned that he didn’t care about people who were under him, you learned how he thought he was the best person in the world and that no one could compare.

in that moment you realised that if you stayed at home and cried yourself to sleep, you would have had more fun.

as expected he paid the bill and took you to some club in downtown.

club meant alcohol, alcohol meant feeling so dizzy that you would forget about your problems. you were impulsive, you had always been. but if alcohol worked, you couldn’t say no.

the music was loud and you could feel your whole body shaking. it was a nice feeling, maybe it would have worked for a few hours - you thought.

he offered you a glass of champagne, then another one and another one again that with three glasses of champagne you were already tipsy but not drunk as you wanted to be. so you excused yourself and ordered an entire bottle of wine, for you and your partner, but mostly for you. he was surprised when he saw you coming back with two glasses and an entire bottle full of alcohol. he definitely wasn’t going to say no to that. so you started drinking, realising how bad of an idea was.

he took you to the dance floor and even if you weren’t in no mood to dance, the music was pretty nice so you started swaying your hips over the dance floor. he took that as a sign to dance with you, but having a stranger’s body over yours made you shiver. you tried to move away but his hands were already on your hips, touching you in places you didn’t want.

“get off” you whispered, hoping that he would listen but he didn’t “get off!” you screamed a little louder making him drop his hands.

“woah” he laughed “what’s with that attitude?”

attitude? he was the one who brag about how rich and cool he was all night but you were the one with attitude?

“don’t touch me…” you whispered.

he was probably too drunk to realise what you were saying because he brought his hands back to your hips, holding you closer to his chest. his hands moved to your booty and that was your sign to go away.

“let me go you fucking pervert” you moved his hands away and went to grab your purse but his hand grabbed your arm, making you turn to his direction.

“you’re a fucking bitch! seducing me all night just to have a free meal and free drinks! you’re just a whore, go back to the streets, where you belong” he laughed before he moved to distract some other girls.

his words didn’t hurt you. you couldn’t care less so why were you crying in the middle of the road, shivering because it was freezing and all you were wearing was a short dress?

you knew boys couldn’t take care of you like damian would and that made you cry even harder. despite the fact that you were drunk, with no car to go back home and it was starting to rain again, you realised how stupid you were.

you thought about calling rhea but you knew she would have scolded you and you definitely weren’t in the mood for that. calling punk was out of line, he helped you a couple of times and he was great companion backstage but you weren’t that friends so you didn’t want to disturb him. your only option was damian, the man you’ve been causing all of this drama for.

when you were sure he wasn’t going to pick up, you heard his voice from the other side of the phone “hello?”

“damian…it’s me, i…” you didn’t know what to say. you were shivering, crying in the middle of the road, you were scared and alone.

“y/n” his voice worried “is everything okay? it’s two in the morning…are you okay?”

you took a deep breath “i’m not at home…i-i don’t know how to get back home damian…i’m drunk and”

“what you mean you’re not at home and you’re drunk?” he couldn’t believe his ears.

“i had a date but…he wouldn’t stop touching me and i left…i don’t know where i am damian…” if he was pissed before because you were out alone, he was worried now that you told him about a man who wouldn’t leave you alone.

“send me your location now, i’ll be there as soon as possible” you did as he said and you looked for a place to sit while waiting for him. the rain started to fall harder and your soft curls were completely ruined, you were sure your mascara was all smudged and your dress all dirty and ruined.

you couldn’t feel the cold anymore as your body went numb.

you waited for about fifteen minutes and when you saw damian’s car moving towards you, you started running and jumped into the vehicle. damian took a good look at you. you were shivering and completely drenched.

“quien es este hijo de puta?” he whispered in spanish. he couldn’t believe someone would leave you all alone in the middle of the night under the rain “i’m gonna kill him” he kept whispering “i’m gonna take you to my place…i don’t want you to stay alone”

you simply nodded, not trusting your own words.

his place was cozy and warm. his house felt like a home.

“here…let me grab you some of my clothes, you know where the bathroom is” he said. it wasn’t the first time he had you over, most of the time you were there with rhea but it was the first time that you were alone with him.

“thanks” you quickly hid into his bathroom. trying to keep your sobs and tears in, you opened the shower door and let all the water fall down, covering the sound of your broken sobs. you were crying, trying to find a reason to your sobbing but you couldn’t find just one.

damian was too kind with you and the idea of having to accept him just as a friend was killing you. the bad date turning into a complete disaster. you, being impulsive as you were, acting and then thinking. you were just you, broken and desperate for attention.

a few minutes later you came out of the bathroom. you removed all of your make up, your hair were half dry thanks to his hairdryer, you were wearing his clothes that were probably too big on you but his perfume invading your nose was comfortable.

he was waiting for you on his couch. when he saw you he sadly smiled at you, letting you know that you could sit next to him.

“im sorry if i woke you up” your broken voice said.

“i wasn’t sleeping” he smiled “but i definitely wasn’t expecting a call from you in the middle of the night” he chuckled “what happened princesa?”

you couldn’t tell him that he was the reason why o acted so careless so you told him half truth “i had a date tonight…and he took me out for dinner, i realised how unpleasant he was the moment i got into his car but something kept me there with him…so once we finished dinner he had this idea of going to a club, i didn’t mind it at first and i had a few drinks…but then i started drinking more and more and” a few tears left your eyes “he started to get touchy and he wouldn’t leave me alone, not even when i told him to get off…and when he realised that i wouldn’t have fucked him, he called me a bitch and a whore…and he basically left me there…i didn’t know where i was and i was scared…i’m so sorry i called you” you kept apologising, realising how stupid you were.

damian hugged you, letting you cry in his big arms “it’s okay…you couldn’t have known” he softly stroked your hair, knowing that it would have calmed you down “ yo voy a matarlo, ese hijo de puta” he whispered in spanish some words that you couldn’t put together.

“the worst part is that i didn’t even like him…” you didn’t mean to let those words out.

“what you mean?”

“i like someone else…but apparently he only thinks of me as a friend…so i used this date as a distraction” you sobbed again “the worst idea i’ve ever had”

“hey shhh…it wasn’t your fault” he comforted you “the guy you like is so stupid, trust me…he doesn’t know what he’s losing, you’re kind and beautiful, i bet there are thousands of boys who wanna date you” he said making you chuckle a little.

if he only knew

“i wish he could see me the way i see him” you confessed.

“he’s blind if he doesn’t see the amazing person that you are…but please, don’t ever go on dates you don’t feel like to go…” he said making you nod your head yes.

“yeah…i think i got the message after tonight” you chuckled.

“do you wanna stay over? i don’t want you to stay alone tonight…i have a guest bedroom that you could use” he offered and you were stupid to say no.

“please…”

he showed you the room and told you to call him if you needed him. you thanked him and softly closed the door, letting yourself falling on the bed, watching the ceiling and wondering what did you do to deserve such a heartbreak.

slowly you drifted off to sleep, letting those tears soak the bedsheets and hoping to find peace in your dreams.

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eyebagshawty · 9 months

Note

Did you get a request? It's Headcanons + Blurbs for Being Taken Care of/Washed by Tav for Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor. Thanks!

Headcanons + Blurbs for Being Taken Care of/Washed by Tav (Part 2)

A/N: Every picture is from Pinterest (y’all are artists I swear!), as well as the ones in part one. If you recognize one that is yours, please let me know and I will credit you.

Characters: Dammon, Rolan, Zevlor

Part 1

Dammon

• You and Dammon had been flirty ever since meeting in the grove

• At Last Light, you finally get the courage to offer washing up with him in hopes you might become something more than good friends

• When you ask, he genuinely thinks you’re pranking him

• Like genuinely

• “Very funny, Tav. Now did you need something??”

• “Dammon, I’m serious. You’re telling me a little massage wouldn’t be a great gift for repairing Karlach’s heart?” You motion your fingers in the shape of a heart with a cheeky grin plastered on your face

• When he realizes you aren’t kidding, the wine he’s been sipping spews onto the ground

• His blush is furious, his eyes are like saucers, and his mouth is clamped shut

• “That would…. That would be nice,” he mumbles shyly, “Just tell me when and where and I’ll meet you.” His fingers brush against yours and he’s SO SHY as he walks back to the bar

You draw a bath in the massive tub in the private room Jaheira let you stay in. You hear a curt knock at the door, and tighten your robe. “Astarion I swear if you want food after so clearly declining earlier I swea-“. As you open the door ready to give the vampire spawn a piece of your mind, you’re met face to face with Dammon, who is sporting a very bewildered expression. Your face goes beet red and your mouth promptly closes.

He gives a light chuckle at the embarrassment on your face. “Just finished up work for the day, who knew so many harpers break their weapons so often?” You step to the side and to let him in, and he looks at your surroundings; your laid out armor and evening clothes, your journal that sits on the bedside table, and the long sword he’d gifted you (he really was down bad, he thought to himself) after you’d defeated the goblin camp.

When he looks back over to you, you’re already submerged in the hot water, looking shyly his way. Without a word passing through both of your lips, but an entire conversation being passed through eyes, he slowly undresses as you watch. The tension could be cut with a knife. He slides into the tub, and you take his hand in yours. “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, Dammon… ever since this tadpole debacle started.”

His tail involuntarily flicks to wrap around your waist, his eyes widening as he tightens his grip on your hand. “I feel the same, I never thought my time in Avernus would lead me to you,” he whispers as he leans closer to you, his lips hovering over yours. Just when they’re about to meet, you smile teasingly and move away, grabbing the provided soap and tenderly scrubbing around his horns. He moans softly as he brings you closer to him, his hands wrapping around your waist. “Darling… is this okay? With you?” His voice is breathy as you continue to wash and work out soap in his hair.

“Of course it is,” you whisper back, and you press a soft peck to his lips. He instantly melts as you continue to scrub soap into his shoulders and back, kissing your arms, your chest, anywhere he can reach.

Rolan

• You and Rolan had already been together at the tiefling party, so his face morphs into a smug smirk when you offer to wash up with him at Last Light

• “Well, future hero of Baldur’s Gate, back for more?” His tail wraps around your calf and you shoot him a playful glare as your cheeks burn and your heart flutters

• Karlach and Shadowheart are just grinning smugly from across the room, and you try to ignore it but his tail yanks your leg a bit, and you stumble into his arms

• “Trip over something, hero?”

• You swat at his chest, “Wouldn’t you like to know wizard boy, go find an orb to ponder,” you huff out

• He squeezes your cheeks together and chuckles, “Give me ten minutes, darling. I’ll be there.” And with that you promptly run away to Shadowheart and Karlach who bombard you with questions

As you wait in your room, the bath filled with hot water and the scent of rose oil lingering in the air, you think about the time you’d spent with Rolan over the course of your journey. Complimenting him on his apprenticeship after convincing him to stay in the grove, having sex at the celebration after defeating the goblins, and how he’d insulted you when Cal and Lia went missing. You’d say your relationship with him was complicated — you didn’t even know if he liked you really.

With a sharp knock on your door you bolted up and answered. “Hello princess, the most talented wizard of this generation is hence at your service.” You chuckled at his cockiness.

“Hello to you too Rolan, come in, please.” As you stepped aside to let him in, he placed his hand on your hip to move by, his lips surprisingly close to yours as his tail swished back and forth. He looked down to your lips, back to your eyes, and kept walking. He immediately stripped down his robes, only to laugh at your beet red face.

“What’s the matter hero? You’ve seen me before,” he laughed. However, you could see an inkling of softness in his eyes and a small blush darkening his cheeks. You roll your eyes and begin to remove your medium armor. Rolan sees you struggling a bit and comes up behind you, pressing your back against him as he undoes the clasps. The room is quiet, but boy oh boy if your heart isn’t SINGING. You both sink into the tub, and you begin to lather soap into his horns. He moans softly as you continue scrubbing into the base of his horns, gathering water into a pitcher and washing soap away. “I’m sorry about everything I said when you first got here, darling.”

Your motions pause but a moment in surprise, but you continue with the performance of nonchalance, rubbing soap across his shoulders and chest. “Oh yeah?” As you reach to scrub at his back, his hand grabs your wrist and he kisses it.

“Yes. I was out of line out of fear and you didn’t deserve it. I… care about you.” You give him a beaming smile and throw your arms around him, the water sloshing around and onto the floor. He kisses the crown of your head, rubbing his hands across your back. “That’s a mess I am not cleaning up, by the way.”

Zevlor

• You offer to wash up with him at the celebration after defeating the goblin camp, and like Dammon, he also thinks you’re messing with him

• “You’re drunk, little one. You did wonderfully and I’m so proud, but you definitely need your rest.” He places his hand on your lower back to steady you, looking anywhere but into your eyes

• You put your hand on his chest and giggle, “Sorry I just… wanted to get to know you better,” you keep drunkenly laughing and like,,, the man thinks he might combust when he realizes you’re dead serious

• Your eyes widen when his tail unconsciously wraps around your thigh, squeezing lightly in eager affection

• IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE THIS MAN HAS FELT WANTED PLEAAASSEEE

• He leans down and whispers softly into your ear, “Meet me at the river once the party has died down, my dear.” And with one last squeeze his tail pulls away and he walks back into the crowd flustered as all hells

When the campfire is snuffed out and most people are off in their own bedrolls or having huddled conversations, you make your way to the shore. You dig your feet into the soft sand and remove your evening clothes, letting your hair fall free from its practical braid. You make your way into the water, submerging your head and sighing with relief. When you look back to the shore you see Zevlor, his eyes wide and his jaw hanging in awe.

You give him a warm smile and beckon him towards you. He grins shyly in return, his tail flicking wildly behind him in excitement that he tries to suppress. He removes his armor and strides into the water towards you. He gathers you so that you’re floating in his lap, and ohmygod he’s nervous. You kiss his cheeks and get to work on his horns and his hair, his tail involuntarily wrapping affectionately and protectively around your waist.

“I can’t tell you how thankful I am darling… not many people are willing to help us infernal creatures,” he whispers, but he spits out the word infernal bitterly. You stroke his cheek tenderly with your thumb.

“Don’t say stuff like that. You deserved our help through and through, and I wanted to help you. Whatever my companions thought be damned,” you whisper back, “How hard is it for you to see that I care for you?” You kiss his temple and hover so that your lips are ghosting over his. He lets out a quiet sob, tears streaming down his face at your kindness. He eagerly presses his lips to yours, his hands grabbing anywhere they can touch. You kneed your fingers into his hair and moan softly. When you pull away he whines, his tail squeezing around your waist.

“Thank you.” You kiss his cheeks once more and continue rubbing soap into his warm skin, brushing away each of his tears as you work.

#fanfic #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 rolan #bg3 zevlor #bg3 romance #bg3 dammon #rolan x reader #zevlor x reader #dammon x reader #fluff #astarion cameo #shadowheart cameo #karlach cameo

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fredwkong · 8 months

Note

There's just something hot about unintended consequences when it involves reality changes.

Used astral projection to possess this quarterback of a bully to teach him a lesson, didn't expect for him to have some sort of magic from someone else that makes me stuck in him...

The longer I'm trapped in him, controlling him, it was too easy to notice reality changing as well. First day, no one remembered my true form existing. The next, I can feel his personality merging with me!

Sounds like you’ve made a bit of a mistake. Still, it isn’t so bad. After all, you’re the quarterback now, the king of your campus. If you absorb your bully’s sports skills, you might even be able to make millions as a pro player.

At first, you try to cozy up with your old friends, but they’re wary of their former bully’s friendliness. You also can’t help but find their interests sort of boring. I mean, who actually cares about shit like Genshin Impact when you could do an extra workout instead? Before long, you start making shitty comments about your old buddies and, eventually, go back to ignoring them, just like a jock should.

As your bully’s memories mix with yours, his past mingles imperceptibly with yours, and you find yourself hanging out with your teammates. Yeah, they’re not the brightest, but you don’t have a 4.0 GPA these days, either. You’d much rather blow off your classes and toss a pigskin around the quad shirtless. Hopefully, you get the chance to toss it near some hot soccer or swim team guy so you can stumble into him and ask him out.

As your sex drives combine, you’re absolutely stunned to discover that your bully was at least as much of a fag as you. He thought he was an exclusive top, but you quickly discover just how sensitive his hole is. Before long, if you aren’t taking some jock cock while wearing your cleats, you almost need a plug rubbing against your prostate.

Life's pretty good now, huh? You can barely remember the kind of lame nerd you used to be.

#male transformation #mental change #answered ask #male tf #reality change #dumber tf #merge tf #possession tf #jockification #football tf #bottom tf #all fwkong

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babiebom · 4 months

Text

Would they be a Girl Dad/Mom or Boy Dad/Mom

A/N: just know that this isn’t the weird incest-y thing that people have going on (the boy moms saying that no girl would ever compare to them when talking about their sons dating stuff) this is just what vibes they give off!! The is completely ignoring the how many kids they would have thing!!

Tw:cursing? Mentions of a afab partner in bachelors and amab partner in bachelorettes. Some angsty stuff but nothing too bad except for the authors note which mentions incest.

Wc:at least 5 for each!

Stardew Valley Masterlist

Sebastian

Girl dad

He just gives off girl dad energy

Like a daughter would soothe his soul if that makes sense.

Especially because I feel like he would have a daughter that’s exactly like her mother.

He would become softer, and would probably be carrying her everywhere.

Would be the parent that shows up to the school like “WHO TF HAS A PROBLEM WITH MY DAUGHTER?”

Absolutely doesn’t allow her on his motorcycle at all.

Maybe when she’s a little older he’ll get mods to a new motorcycle so she could ride with him but as a baby absolutely not.

She is a daddy’s girl through and through and it makes him happy because he never had a relationship like this with his biological dad nor with Demetrius.

Sam

Girl dad

You will see him teaching his daughter how to skate EVERY DAY

Like dude is a skater boy that’s also a musician.

He definitely has a daughter with her skirt on and some knee pads a helmet and some flannel or something.

And he’s like “okay try again! You’ll get that kick flip eventually.”

And you’re just like “SHES GONNA GET H U R T!!!!”

And he’s like “yeah but she’ll be fine :)”

It’s VERY stressful because he’s a little rough with playing sometimes because he gets too excited but it’s good to have a partner that will push your child like that.

He’s a very good fun dad

Vincent enjoys being an uncle.

Shane

Girl dad

Have you seen how he is with Jas?

Dude is a girl dad all the way!

Would teach his daughter how to take care of the chickens, and would try to teach them proper ways of dealing with their emotions because he doesn’t want her to end up like him.

I could imagine he’s one of those dads where his daughter posts something on a social media platform and gets the “this is no father behavior” or whatever people be saying

And she just makes another video with him standing there and is like ??????? I’m actually close to my dad thanks <3

Like his daughter would be strong but a good person because he would work hard to make sure she’s a person he wishes he could be. But not in a toxic way

More in a you could be and are better than me.

Alex

Definitely a boy dad

I think he gives off the vibes of a dad you see at the park

And you can immediately tell that his child is a boy and when anyone asks him he points to a little boy that looks exactly like him.

They have football days

And it just very much him fixing what he didn’t have with his dad, and giving his son as much love and care as he can.

It’s as if he is getting a do over, but in the form of having a child instead of him going back to being a child.

I can see him and his son in the kitchen with a mess everywhere trying to make you breakfast

He takes him to sports games and goes to all of his kids events at school.

They’re both EXTREMELY loud when doing anything together. It’s just shouts of excitement and joy.

Harvey

Boy dad

I don’t know he gives off that he specifically has a 3 year old son that clings to both of you on any given day.

Like a son with big eyes that can melt anyone’s heart and his hair is always neat.

Son may be a bit of a crybaby ngl but in a cute way. Because both of you allow him to express his feelings in any way he wants to as long as it’s healthy.

Like y’all’s son would be an incredibly sweet boy and so loving and caring towards other people and things.

Harvey has a picture of you and your son as his lock screen on his phone and the clinic computer. And he has a little picture (more like a million) of you three in his wallet.

Elliott

Girl dad

She takes mom’s looks but has his hair.

And also his bone structure.

Gives off Nepo baby vibes and has a big vocabulary bc Elliott would speak to her as if she’s an adult since the day she’s born.

Like yeah he still speaks softly and everything

But he uses adult words bc his kid is going to be smart.

Would be so sweet and would absolutely call her his princess.

Elliott is for sure in charge of bedtime stories and has probably already or has made plans to release a children’s book just for her

She gives him inspiration and a new meaning to his life.

Penny

Boy mom

She just seems like the type of woman to have a son

I imagine him literally either as a newborn with her never putting him down or like a 4 year old playing at the park.

I think he would be similar to her in personality but more like dad in looks.

He’s attached to her and they spend hours reading together because they’re both very into stories.

I think out of all the kids he would be the sweetest.

He’s very soft spoken like she is and she loves that he is (don’t get me wrong if he was loud she would still love him just as much) but she’s seeing all of the traits that she was more insecure about in him and figuring out that maybe it’s nothing to be ashamed of because those traits are lovely in him.

Leah

Boy mom

Like I mentioned in the other post I think she would have one child

And I think this little boy would be so creative it’s crazy

But is also super hyper so all of his art is chaotic but very cool

She probably started doing art with him the second he was born.

She makes a bunch of finger,hand,toe, and footprint art because he’s going to grow quickly and she wants to have something that she can look back on when he’s grown.

He’s encouraged to be messy and I think because of it he learns to clean up his mess quickly

They’re a very smilely duo and she makes sure to encourage him in whatever he wants to do no matter how absurd because no one encouraged her to follow her art dreams and she never wants him to feel like that

But also teaches the importance of accepting failure and continuing to try to achieve his goals.

Emily

Boy mom

Very strange like her but in a good way like her

She lets him express himself in all kinds of ways so he’s very…idk how to explain it

Sometimes off putting to people?

Sort of autism coded ngl

Like has no ability to read the room and very much says what’s on his mind no matter what’s happening

But it’s kinda impossible to get mad at him because he does it in a very nice way?

Probably has his hair dyed some random color that he wanted and everyone gets mad at Emily for it because “HeS a KiD hE cAnT dO tHaT!!!!!!!1!!!”

They’re also super close. But I don’t honestly think any of these bachelor/ettes would have kids just to hate them.

But they have the kind of bond that people usually have with their friends like where you can halfway read their mind and you don’t really have to say full sentences or anything they just get it.

Haley

Girl mom

OOOOOOOOF her daughter is the spitting image of her

Like her daughter knows EXACTLY what she’s going to look like.

Would probably dress her daughter up in expensive clothes and stuff and they’ll have mommy daughter dates where they get their nails done and go to a hair salon and go shopping and have their little drinks.

Her daughter would probably have a popular girl name because Haley would wanna set her up for success.

BUT unlike what people might think I think that Haley would be very…relaxed with her daughter if that makes sense

No almond mom shit

No making her feel bad

No being distant and distracted

Haley sometimes feels abandoned by her parents and I have a headcanon where even though she loves them and they love her they kinda made her feel shitty about certain things

Like her and her mother would get into arguments and her mother would say “I hope you have a daughter just like you so you can see how hard it is to deal with you!”

And after Haley has her daughter she sees that it isn’t really hard to love herself at all. Her daughter is just like her and it’s the easiest thing in the world to love her.

Abigail

Girl mom

I think Abigail would struggle with this at first because y’know I think out of all the bachelorettes she her up with the stereotypical roles in her household and even when she tried to go against it her parents wouldn’t let her

So when she has a girl she panics because what is she supposed to do? And she worries that she’ll be like her parents even though she does love and cherish them.

But as her daughter grows older she’ll relax more especially if her daughter is into video games and adventuring.

I think she would probably take her kid on hikes and stuff. Like she doesn’t really care for exercise but it’s kinda like adventuring going hiking.

So her daughter would grow up with a love for adventure and the outdoors but also with the knowledge that she could be into whatever and her mother will not judge and will always love her

Maru

Boy mom

I don’t know why but I can see her with a Spencer Reid son if that makes sense

A super nerd that’s super cute and lovable and also info dumps and inappropriate times

I think he would be space nerd instead of robot nerd and also maybe a bit of a bug/dinosaur nerd

And she’s like !!!!!! That’s so cool!!!!!!

They just talk for hours and hours infodumping at each other and everyone is like ??? What kind of conversation is that you’re both just taking turns talking for an hour straight???

BUT a difference is that she understands Demetrius’ position but also kinda is annoyed at him for his behavior

Like she would NEVER dream of holding her child back socially because she thinks his academic progress is more important

It kinda made her shit at socializing and she’s kinda grateful to have a partner and son that understand her

She wants him to be well rounded instead of just smart.

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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months

Text

Lonely in Misery

Requested Here!

Part 2 Here: Lonelier in Misery

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!paramedic!reader

Summary: Bailey notices that you're lonely and miserable while Nolan notices the same about Tim. They decide to set you up on a blind date, but it only ends with more sadness.

Warnings: mention of motorcycle accident, pure fluff (the title and summary are misleading, my bad)

Word Count: 2.0k+ words

A/N: @newobsessionweekly here's some soft Tim if you're interested🥰

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Let’s go!” your chief calls. “Motorcycle accident on Wilshire.”

You nod as you gather your equipment. Being a paramedic is stressful, but you work with an amazing team. It’s too bad you don’t have the same kind of community in your personal life. Working with your best friends is great until you can’t hang out or talk to anyone because they’re on different shifts.

“Single rider?” you ask as you climb into the ambulance.

“Dispatch didn’t say. Only called for one ambulance, so I assume,” your chief replies.

“Hey, maybe it’ll be a single guy and you can nurse him back to health and finally get a date,” your teammate in the driver’s seat jokes.

“Ignore him,” Bailey says, rolling her eyes.

“Ignore who?” you tease.

As the BLS rescue ambulance pulls out, you sit back in your seat.

“Are you okay?” Bailey asks softly.

“Fine,” you reply. “Just… I don’t know.”

“I get it. We, uh, we haven’t been able to hang out in a while. What have you been up to?”

“Nothing. Work, eat, workout, sleep, repeat.”

“Yeah, you’ve been kind of mopey.” She reaches her hand toward you and smiles when you lay your hand in hers. “This job is hard enough without being lonely. Why don’t you go on a date or just go hang out somewhere, meet somebody?”

You shake your head and brush off her concern with a half-true promise, “I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to when our schedules give us time to be friends again. If I can get out away from Nolan, of course.”

Bailey smiles and rolls her eyes but squeezes your hand reassuringly. You know she isn’t convinced that you’re fine. Your job is more important, though, so you decide to focus on the motorcycle rider who needs your help rather than the empty home, the empty life you’ll go home to after your shift ends.

“Hey!” Tim yells harshly. “Socialize on your own time, boot!”

His new rookie ducks his head and walks quickly after abandoning his conversation. Tim has been grumpier than usual lately, and he’s taking it out on everyone in the station. When he yelled at Sergeant Grey, who only shook his head and told Tim to take a breather, Nolan knew what was happening.

“He’s lonely, right?” Nolan asks Angela.

“Incredibly,” she answers without hesitation. “It’s been worse, though, so his sports buddies must have gotten busy, married, something.”

Nolan nods. He has an idea, but he knows better than to suggest Tim go on a date where he could overhear or be told. As he walks toward his shop, Nolan makes a mental note to ask Bailey if she knows anyone who would be willing to go on a date with Mid-Wilshire’s resident grump.

“Do I look like I care about your engagement party?” Tim asks across the garage.

“Hey,” Nolan says as he walks into the house.

“Hi,” Bailey replies.

Nolan hugs Bailey and sighs against her.

“I need your help with something,” Bailey says.

“Anything,” Nolan replies as he steps back. “But I need a favor, too.”

“My best friend is lonely and needs a date.”

Nolan’s brows raise as he adds, “My coworker is lonely and needs a date.”

“Did we just plan a blind date in under thirty seconds? Are we really that good?”

“Depends. Is your friend interested in someone like Tim Bradford?”

Bailey considers the pairing for a moment but smiles as she pictures you balancing Tim and him providing an edge that you haven’t experienced in years.

“Oh, yeah,” Bailey decides. “She’ll be interested.”

“Great! Now I just have to convince him to actually go on the date,” Nolan muses.

“Good luck.” Bailey laughs before she realizes, “I have to get her to let me set her up too.”

“Well, if she’s anything like Tim, appeal to her misery.”

“Yeah, because it’s better than absolutely nothing and complete unhappiness is the perfect way to pitch a date,” Bailey scoffs. “I’ll get my friend there, and you convince Tim your way.”

“I hope this works,” they say together.

“What’d you do last night?” Bailey asks as you exit the locker room.

You step back in surprise at being ambushed the moment you arrive but recover quickly. “I made dinner, watched a movie, and went to bed. Why?”

“Because you’ve got a date tonight, so we’re switching it up.”

“Bailey,” you begin.

“No, no, hear me out before you decline. Please? I’m doing this as your best friend, I promise.”

“Okay,” you sigh. “Pitch this guy. But, Bailey Nune, if you say it’s Nolan’s brother Pete I will find a new best friend.”

“Oh, no. I love you, I would never do that. Besides, the whole point of a blind date is that I don’t tell you the guy’s name. But…” She raises her finger to emphasize as she adds, “Nolan and I both know him well and he’s a great guy.”

“You’re gonna have to give me more. I don’t want to go on a date just to say that I didn’t spend another night alone, Bailey.”

“Completely. I know you, though, okay, and this guy he’s- he can do and be everything you want. The romance, the connection, the best friend that is also your life partner, what you are looking for in a guy, this is it. I promise. And, if I’m wrong, I’ll bail you out of the date and I will clean your equipment for the rest of the month.”

You purse your lips as you think about her offer. She does know exactly what you want in a man, and you trust Bailey’s judgement. “Fine. I’ll go on the date.”

“Yes!” Bailey cheers as she hugs you. “I’m so glad. You’ll feel so much better after you’re not miserable and lonely anymore.”

“You should’ve been a motivational speaker,” you deadpan. “Now don’t mention it again until we get off. This can’t be the topic of conversation for the rest of the day; I’ll never live it down.”

“I’ll stay quiet and think of the perfect outfit for you,” Bailey says as she follows you into the heart of the station.

“Officer Bradford,” Nolan calls as he walks across the bullpen.

“Yeah?” Tim asks.

“I’ve got a proposition for you. Or a question, idea, whatever you want to call it.”

“Then spit it out, Nolan.”

“Right, yes, sir. Bailey has a single friend, and we want to set you up on a blind date.”

Tim’s face remains impassive as he shakes his head. “Pass. Ask Aaron.”

“No, Tim, I’m asking you.”

“And I’m not interested,” Tim argues.

“Look, you’re lonely and miserable, so you’re making all of us miserable. I know you – sort of – and I know this woman. She could be really good for you.”

“If you’re wrong? Because I think you are.”

“Then leave the date! You’re not losing anything more than a few hours.”

Tim takes a deep breath before he asks, “Why do you think she’d be good for me?”

“She can be the balance that you need, and she understands some of what we deal with daily.”

“Don’t tell me she’s a lawyer.”

“Oh, no, I know better than that. So… is that a yes?”

“It’s a hesitant yes,” Tim answers. “When?”

“Tonight.”

Tim nods once before he walks away to reprimand a rookie. Nolan watches him yell and hopes that he and Bailey are right. Because if they’re wrong and the date goes poorly, Tim will be worse in the morning.

You sit in the front of the restaurant and await your date. Bailey said he’d arrive after you. She never explained how you were supposed to find each other, though. As you watch people come and go, you grow discouraged. You shift your attention from the door to your hands. Several minutes pass before the door opens again, and you look up but don’t expect anything.

“Tim?” you ask.

You’ve seen Tim Bradford several times in passing. At wrecks, crime scenes, and various Los Angeles law enforcement meetings. He’s always been kind to you, and you remember that you may have mentioned finding him attractive to Bailey before.

“I’ll assume you’re my blind date, then,” Tim replies. He smiles as he adds, “I’m not as disappointed as I expected to be.”

“Wow,” you say through laughter. “If I’d known you were such a flirt, I would’ve asked Bailey to set us up sooner.”

Tim shakes his head, and you join his side as he gives his name to the hostess. As you walk to the table, a sudden awkwardness descends. There’s no good way to begin a conversation on a blind date, you realize. Tim takes his hand against the menu but looks similarly lost about what to say.

“I guess being lonely and desperate worked in my favor,” you joke.

“Oh, I can guarantee that I was lonelier and more desperate,” Tim replies. “Nolan used that to convince me to come tonight; said I was making everyone else miserable with my misery.”

The mood lightens with your playful jokes, and you smile at Tim.

“Since you’ve had to pull an arson suspect off me before, should we skip the small talk?” you ask Tim over your menu. “Or do this the normal way?”

“There’s nothing normal about this,” Tim comments.

Your phone buzzes in your bag, but the Are you still miserable? text from Bailey goes unread.

“Okay, I hate this,” you murmur as you set the menu aside. “Can I just sit beside you?”

Tim’s smile grows as he stands and offers his hand. Once you’re seated beside him, where you don’t have to lean across the table to talk, you don’t even remember the miserable feeling that led Bailey to set this date up.

Tim leans over to whisper, “I’m glad I agreed to the date,” and you move closer to him as you answer, “Me too.”

As you walk out of the restaurant with your hand in Tim’s and a joyful smile on your face, you don’t want the night to end.

“Same time next week?” you ask as Tim slows.

“What about the same time another day this week?” he suggests. “I had a great time, and I want to go out again. If that’s what you want, of course.”

You pull your phone out and hand it to Tim, ignoring Bailey’s text. He puts his number in and texts himself, so he has your number, too. You grow giddy, something you thought was a thing of your past.

“I think this is the best date I’ve ever been on,” you tell Tim as you begin walking again. “Thank you.”

“Nolan and Bailey are gonna take credit if we tell them the blind date worked,” Tim points out.

“Yeah,” you agree, drawing out the word. “But I don’t think I can hide how happy tonight made me. Not from Bailey, at least.”

Tim nods like he understands as you stop. You turn to face him, and he raises the hand that isn’t in yours to hold your cheek. There isn’t a question or doubt in your mind as you kiss Tim. What was supposed to be a date to cheer you up and get you back out of your mundane, lonely life is already becoming so much more. As Tim releases your hand to hold you and pull you closer, your entire world brightens. Neither you nor Tim are lonely, let alone miserable, with the prospect of a new relationship with one another. You pull back when you can’t stop smiling against Tim’s lips.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

“For what?”

“All of it.”

Tim smiles and brushes his thumb under your bottom lip. “If I don’t see you before Friday, I’m looking forward to our date. And I’ll pick you up at the fire station.”

“Are you sure about that?” you question. “Bailey will tell John.”

“They’ll have to learn sooner rather than later that there’s no room for them in our relationship.”

Your smile grows at our relationship, but you lick your lips to keep your excitement from showing. “They’re both born meddlers.”

“Let’s stop talking about them,” Tim murmurs as he leans in again.

Bonus:

When you arrive home, you see the text from Bailey and answer: More miserable than you can imagine. I’m going to sleep to escape it. Sure, you left off the part about being sad because the date ended, but she’ll find out soon enough.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

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writtenbymoonflower · 9 months

Note

hello! love love love ur writing! would love to see more of james (or sirius/remus i dont discriminate 🤭) and physical affection! any prompt you like. only if you want ofc!

Hi Hunny! Thank you so so much. I will take any excuse to write about my loverboy. I hope this is okay!

James x gn!reader, kind of shy!reader, tooth-rotting fluff.

cw: too cheesy, brief mention of smut, nothing graphic

750 words

“Angel! I’m home!” You couldn’t help but smile as you heard his bag drop against the wood floor. He put on the same antics every time he came back from sports practice, throwing his bag down on the ground (no matter how many times you say to put it on the bench), and yelling whatever pet name comes to his mind at that moment. He was always finding little honorifics to call you, he was just sweet like that. You heard the heavy thumping of his socked feet as he ran down the hall into your living room.

“Hi Jamie! How was practice?” You beamed at him. He was really pretty like this, his curls were damp and his face was flushed. He looked cozy in his sports hoodie and black sweats.

“It was good, we ended a bit early so I got a shower in the change room.” You believed that. He smelled strong of his woodsy cologne. “How was your day, Baby?” You put the book you were reading down to give your boyfriend your full attention, still careful to mark the page.

“It was good. I did some studying and some work but I mostly just sat here doing nothing.” You smiled up at him and chuckled. “I should start working on dinner soon though, what do you want to have?”

“You.” He said, deadpan. But it only took three seconds for him to break and start giggling, too satisfied with his joke.

“Jamie,” you chided. “Pick something real to have.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head, but you were still smiling, somehow still endeared by his usual antics.

“You look pretty real to me, Angel. But I guess it wouldn’t hurt to check.” You had little time to figure out his meaning when he launched himself over the arm of the couch to lay on top of you. You squealed as he tugged your hips down, forcing you to lay flat against him.

“Baby! I’m real, but I’m not real food.” You reasoned, not hesitating to thread your fingers through his hair. You weren’t always the best at initiating contact, but when James did, you couldn’t stop. You started gently scratching his scalp, attempting to calm him, but he was determined in his teasing. Despite your words he started frantically pressing open-mouth kisses all over your face.

“You may not be real food,” He said in between his loving attacks, “But you do taste good.” He grinned at you, too satisfied with himself.

“Jamie,” You sighed, giving up discouraging him. Noticing your surrender, he pushed himself up, still over you and looked down at your face. His big, brown eyes bore into your soul, making you squirm under his gaze.

“There you go,” He grew even more satisfied. He was the nicest boyfriend ever, but he did take joy in making you go all shy underneath him. “There’s my baby.” He pressed another kiss to your forehead. His voice grew quieter with you being so close to him. “Finally letting me love on you without turning into a mess.” Ironically this made you even more flustered, but being as kind as always, James chose to ignore it.

“I love you.” You smiled shyly at him.

“I love you too, Angel.” He said back at you. He glanced over to the side table. “What are you reading?”

“O. Henry short stories.” You moved your fingers to the curls at the nape of his neck, still being just as loving.

“Read some to me?” He looked at you hopefully.

“You’ll be bored, they’re not really your style.” You leaned your neck up to kiss his cheek, and he rewarded you with a smile.

“But you’re my style, and I like it when you read to me.” And you couldn’t say no when he was looking at you like that. As soon as you nodded he set about fixing you both, you leaning against the arm of the couch, book in hand. He laid with his lower legs hanging off the opposite end of the couch and his face nuzzled against your lap and tummy.

“Okay, which story do you want to hear?” You let your free hand roam over his broad shoulders and back, knowing they were probably tensed and ached from his practice.

“Whichever, Angel. Just let me lay here and listen.” He was being equally as feely with you, grabbing and gently pinching your hips and thighs while you started your story.

#james potter blurb #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter fanfiction #james potter one shot #james potter #marauders fanfiction #marauders #fluff #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #drabble #james potter scenario #james potter x self insert #marauders era #james potter fic #james potter request #anon request

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causenessus · 4 months

Text

cold kisses

part 0.05. intros.

NOW LIVE . . . PRETTY SETTERS + PROBLEM CHILDREN

kozume kenma ⋆꙳•❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

second year in college majoring in marketing. also a part time streamer so yeah he’s a little busy :) currently roomates with y/n, when he asked her to room with him he told her they’d split the rent evenly but she has no idea he’s actually paying *totally* just *a bit* more than half <3 he’s just happy she’s with him but he's also been working very hard not to get her caught in any stream. thinks that things might blow up a little bit if people suddenly find out he’s rooming with a girl–a slightly well known skater of all people–and he’s right for thinking so. some of his fans are already a little weird about shipping him with others but he ignores it when he can. definitely has had a thing for y/n since high school and always felt a little nervous whenever she came to watch his games but kuroo was the only one on the team who noticed. he’s grown a lot more comfortable around her since then <3 they’re also co-parents of a cat they’re definitely not supposed to have in their apartment.

kuroo

third year studying a degree in sports management :) best friends with kenma and oikawa who he’s roomates with. they’re like the extremely less romantic version of whatever kenma and y/n have going on lmao 💀 a very small youtuber who often ends up posting videos that people request him for explaining how things in the sport world works and about science and then will turn around and post an 8 hour long minecraft playthrough video. also good friends with y/n but is mainly hearing everything from kenma’s side. he’s always kenma’s go-to person for advice whenever he’s confused about something and needs help <3

oikawa

third year also majoring in nutrition but he’s cruising :) did volleyball and skated in high school but decided to pursue figure skating once he graduated. has worked a few times with y/n and they're good friends. also considers himself a girl’s girl and y/n backs him up on this <3 she wishes they worked together more but she doesn’t see him often. oikawa’s been besties with kuroo since high school and as a result also got to know kenma quite well. he’s pretty observant and has picked up on what’s happening between him and y/n as well so if kuroo doesn’t know how to respond to kenma they sit together at their little kitchen table in their dorm at midnight debriefing the tension going on between the two over tea and biscuits or something idk

hinata shoyo & kageyama tobio ⋆꙳•❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

shoyo

first year majoring in communications bc bro is not the sharpest tool in the shed </3 was immediately pulled into kenma’s group because literally all of his superiors adore him and kageyama got pulled into the group as well (they like him too <3) he’s the group’s ball of sunshine whenever hope seems lost as finals round the corner and makes everyone’s day when he smiles <3

kageyama

first year in college also majoring in communications. volleyball’s taking up a lot of his time but hinata pulls him around to be a part of the group whenever he can. he was a little terrified of what oikawa would think at first but oikawa could care less at this point and his living his best skater life. kageyama’s still obsessed with vending machines as always and usually gets kidnapped by hinata because he always knows where to find him.

prev. | m.list | next

#kozume kenma #kenma kozume #kenma #kenma x reader #kenma smau #haiykuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader

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yelena-bellova · 1 year

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen: Break My Heart

Plot: With Y/n and Jamie not speaking to one another, a trip to Manchester brings about opportunity and heartache.

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: f!reader, language, insinuated smut, mention of abusive parents

A/N: THIS is the chapter I’ve been looking forward to the most. Even though this isn’t the conclusion, I think it’s what the whole thing’s been building to. Well, this is part one of it, at least. I’m gonna shut up now and just let you read. Enjoy!!

—————

Sam Obisanya: Remember that movie we were looking forward to? It’s coming out on Friday. Want to catch it this weekend?

Colin Hughes: Haven’t seen you around lately. Everything alright?

Dani Rojas: We missed you at Isaac’s birthday dinner! Come visit us next time you are free!

Rebecca Welton: Your tea’s cold. Keeley’s confirmed you’re not dead. Several questions.

Ted Lasso: What’s shaking, Abe Lincoln? Don’t be a stranger next time you’re meeting with the boss.

There had been an onslaught of texts in the three weeks since Y/n had moved out of the Dogtrack. She hadn’t expected people to not notice she was gone, but she hadn’t thought so many of them would care.

She’d ignored every single one.

She wasn’t the only one who’d chosen to stick with Keeley. Barbara had stayed on as well. With Rebecca’s generous financing, the three of them were keeping their ship afloat all by themselves. Jack be damned.

True to her word, Y/n handled all Richmond business from afar, only popping in with Keeley for an occasional meeting with Rebecca and Higgins. She sorted press conferences and post-match interviews without ever stepping foot in the building. If it weren’t so unhealthy, it would have been impressive.

In her makeshift office, actually the conference room, Y/n paced around her computer. She eyed the screen each time she passed by. Roy had a presser scheduled for the afternoon. Sam and…another player were meant to join him. Sam she could handle seeing, though Lord knows she felt guilty for ghosting him. The other one…

“Oh,” Y/n waved herself off, feeling ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She could handle it, she thought, as she turned on the video feed.

Springing to life on her screen, Roy sat between Sam and Jamie, fielding questions.

Y/n’s insides locked up. Jamie.

They hadn’t spoken since the night he’d shown up at her apartment. Not a single text or run-in. It was no longer just Y/n avoiding him, Jamie was actively not speaking to her.

Y/n tried to focus on Sam’s answers, he spoke humbly about Richmond’s 15-game win streak. The last three had been unbelievable you-had-to-be-there kind of matches. Hiding in her apartment with a Sky Sports broadcast hadn’t compared to the real thing. Y/n missed the energy of the stadium and the joy of watching the boys.

Her eyes kept floating back to Jamie. He was hunched over the table, biting his nails, not making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there at all.

Marcus Adebayo, though he answered to Roy’s nickname of ‘better Trent,’ stood and addressed Jamie. “On the heels of making your England debut, how does it feel to be named Premier League Player of the Month?”

“Eh, um, yeah. Yeah, it feels good, I guess,” Jamie answered hesitantly, “But it’s really the team making me look good. So, I should be doing a better job of making them look good, really.”

If Y/n had been in the room, Sam, Roy and her would have all shared the same puzzled look.

“So, yeah. Makes me feel bad,” Jamie finished with a pursed frown.

Roy leaned forward, “Uh, Jamie also led the league in assists this month so he’s done plenty to make his teammates look good.”

“Yeah, but they’re the ones who took all the shots,” Jamie corrected softly.

“He also scored a goal,” Sam interjected.

“T-that was meant to be a pass,” Jamie pointed out, his voice high with anxiety, “You shouldn’t count that. That goal is a lie. It should be retracted from the records.”

Y/n shook her head in confusion, whispering to the empty room, “What are you doing?”

“I apologize to everyone,” Jamie continued, “Especially to the kids.”

“Right, let’s call it there, everyone,” Roy decided at the exact second Y/n was internally stepping forward, “That was great. Thanks very much.”

Y/n stared at the screen, her gaze following Jamie until he was off camera. Whoever had been speaking wasn’t any variation of the Jamie Tartt she knew. He was so out of character it was concerning.

She glanced at her phone, the device silently begging her to type a message. Ask him. Talk to him. Find out what’s wrong. Help him.

Instead, Y/n took a deep breath, closed out the browser, opened her email and got back to work. No good could come from her reaching out. Jamie would be absolutely fine without her, better even. And she would be fine without him.

—————————

Y/n wasn’t a woman who ever thought a man’s presence added anything to a situation she couldn’t. But as she heaved the water jug onto the cooler, she wished that she hadn’t sent the delivery guy away under the assumption she could do it herself.

She returned to the main room to find Keeley in conversation with Roy, both of them turning to face her.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Roy asked.

Y/n motioned to the space around them, “I work here.”

“No, you don’t,” he replied matter-of-factly, “You work at Richmond.”

“Y/n has been here the last few weeks,” Keeley answered, “Just to get things back up and running while we’re short staffed.”

Roy took deep pride in not interjecting himself into anyone else’s business. Sure, he’d helped Isaac through whatever the fuck had caused his meltdown last month. Yes, he offered Ted advice from time to time. But the other 99% of the time, he didn’t particularly care what choices the people around him made. Their lives were theirs and his was his.

But Jamie and Y/n were another fucking deal.

He wouldn’t have invited Y/n along to their 4AM training sessions if he hadn’t known she helped keep Jamie’s spirits up. He’d caught the two of them leaving the parking lot together more than a dozen times. He’d noticed Jamie be the first one on the pitch whenever Y/n was observing training and the first one off when she was waiting on him for lunch. He was well aware the two of them were attached at the fucking hip. Y/n’s disappearance had thrown everything off-balance. Maybe it wasn’t the reason for Jamie breaking down in Roy’s arms earlier, but it certainly couldn’t be helping.

“Oh,” Roy humored the answer, smiling at Y/n. “That’s very kind of her.”

Y/n grinned back nervously, Roy could see through everyone’s bullshit but his own.

“She could help too,” Keeley suggested.

“Help with what?” Y/n asked.

Keeley gestured to Roy for an explanation. “Jamie’s going through some shit. I asked Keeley to talk to him, but since you two are close, maybe you could too.”

Big fat flashing red sirens went off in Y/n’s head. “Oh, I really don’t think I’d help anything,” she struggled, “I-I think Keeley’s much more suited.”

“Not necessarily,” Keeley disagreed as Roy continued to stare Y/n down, “I mean, you two are really good friends.”

“We’re not that close,” Y/n lied, “I mean, we’ve hung out a couple of times but really,” she extended a hand toward her boss, “You definitely know him better.”

Unlike her ex, Keeley had no problem inserting herself in other people’s business. She hadn’t yet approached Y/n about the headlines she and Jamie had made after the England match or the fact that she didn’t want to go near Nelson Road. Since coming back from London, Y/n had pulled away from everyone and everything, Keeley included.

Roy was taking some sick joy in egging Y/n on, “Oh, no, I think-“

“I’ll take care of it,” Keeley jumped to say, ending whatever confrontation was about to take place. “Promise.”

Y/n and Roy held eye contact, challenging one another to break first. Eventually, Roy’s desire to look at Keeley won out and he turned away.

“Thanks,” he glanced back over at Y/n, “I’ll leave you two to your work.”

Stealing one more fleeting gaze at his ex-girlfriend, Roy left the way he’d come, leaving Y/n with a whole new bunch of unresolved feelings.

“He’s quite handsome.”

Y/n startled, she hadn’t even realized Barbara was seated at her desk for the whole exchange. She headed for the conference room, eager to get away from every part of the conversation.

Keeley hung back a moment before following her and gently knocking on the door. “Hi,” she entered slowly, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Y/n answered with faux cheeriness, seated once more at her desk/table, “Fine.”

“It’s just back there…you seemed a bit on edge when Roy mentioned Jamie,” Keeley broached the topic with care.

Y/n’s muscles involuntarily clenched, she tried to keep an even expression. “No, I’m fine.”

Keeley hesitated, nearly turning around and leaving before deciding to just go for it. “You know, if this is about the pictures of you two, I don’t think anyone thinks-“

Y/n sighed, “Keeley, I’m fine. I just think Roy should do his fucking job and take care of his players instead of pawning them off on one of us.”

“I’m not talking about Roy,” Keeley replied, “I’m talking about-“

“Jamie and I are not close,” Y/n said, her tone harsher than intended, “We are not friends. There’s nothing wrong with him, we’re just not as chummy as everyone seems to think we are. End of story.”

Keeley knew Y/n’s edges were sharp, but she hadn’t ever seen her snap so quickly. It only told her there was more to the issue than she’d guessed.

“Got it,” she gave a single nod, “I’m sorry I asked.”

Y/n regretted her words the moment she’d said them. Keeley hadn’t deserved her misplaced frustration. But the mere mention of that night triggered Y/n’s fight-or-flight response. Mixed with the knowledge that something was wrong with Jamie and that Roy clearly knew something, it was all too much.

She stared out the conference room window, landing on Keeley and Barbara’s desks they’d pushed together. She could have been with them, working together as a team. Instead, she was hiding away, once again deciding that the isolation could keep her safe from everything.

Everything except the gnawing fear that she was responsible for Jamie’s behavior.

—————————

Finally, the long awaited weekend arrived.

Man City versus Richmond.

Y/n left no stone unturned when searching for a new excuse not to attend the match. She’d had her period the first week of her three week absence, sick and exhausted the next two. If she’d had any family in the country, there would have been some fake emergency involving them.

She knew she couldn’t get away with a full month’s nonattendance. She had to go to Manchester.

Packing an overnight bag at 6AM and getting on the road by 7 had been her self-ruled terms. The last thing Y/n wanted was to be stuffed on a bus with everyone she was trying to avoid for four hours. Driving herself allowed not only space, but an escape route, if she needed it.

She was barely out of London when Keeley rang her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” the Bluetooth speakers of the car projected Keeley’s voice, “We’re loading the bus up. Just wanted to see where you were.”

Y/n sighed, she’d forgotten to tell someone she wasn’t coming with the team. “Actually, I’m already on the road. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get an early start.”

“Oh,” Keeley sounded a bit disappointed, but not entirely surprised, “That makes sense. Smart choice.”

“Yeah,” Y/n replied, feeling the familiar burn in her gut that came with each lie she told, “I’m a bit ahead of you guys so I’ll see you when you get there.”

“Alright. Drive safe, yeah?”

“You too,” she said before disconnecting the call.

Y/n tried to listen to music, tried to play a podcast, but she found that anything other than silence just didn’t feel right. Every song seemed to trace back to her situation and every spoken word seemed to be speaking directly to her, telling her everything she was doing was wrong.

The silence was no more comforting, it only gave her more room to ruminate about the weekend. How was she supposed to avoid Jamie in such close quarters? How was she supposed to keep away from Ted, Rebecca, Keeley, the rest of the team? It felt like a mistake to come and an equally massive one to stay behind.

A long four hours later, Y/n pulled up to the Hacienda Hotel. The Greyhound bus had yet to arrive. She actually stood a chance at getting up to her room and dodging company till the match.

Y/n gave her car to the valet and dragged her single suitcase through the lobby. She headed straight for the front desk.

“Hi,” she greeted the concierge, “I have a reservation under Y/l/n.”

“Let me just check,” the man replied, typing the last name into his computer. He frowned, “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t seem to have that reservation.”

“No, that can’t be right,” Y/n calmly replied, “I called yesterday about transferring one room under the Richmond block to my name.”

The man scrolled through his list a second time, “Unfortunately, that request doesn’t seem to have been entered into our system. All the Richmond rooms are reserved under the name ‘Lasso.’”

Y/n sighed, she’d gone to extreme lengths to separate herself before even stepping foot in the city. So much so that she’d been willing to pay her own overpriced hotel rate.

“Fine,” she relented, “It doesn’t matter. Checking in to one room under the name ‘Lasso.’”

“Unfortunately, ma’am,” the employee grimaced, “Under hotel policy, we can’t check in individual guests if the reservation is under a different name. You’ll have to wait until the main guest has arrived.”

Y/n’s plan crumbled further, Ted had to check her in? Worse, she’d have to wait with the whole fucking team?

Just as she’d connected the dots, the hiss of a Coach could be heard outside. Y/n whipped her head around to see the AFC Richmond logo and the moving silhouettes of the boys through the dark windows.

“There,” Y/n pointed to the bus, “The main guest’s there. Check me in.”

The man hesitated, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have to wait to confirm-“

“How many people named ‘Lasso’ do you think there are in this country?” Y/n whispered in a panic, “He’s right in there, he’s making shitty puns,” her hand bounced against the desk, “Check me in.”

Arguing would have been hard considering Ted was an anomaly in England. The concierge conceded to Y/n’s demand and began the process.

Y/n nervously drummed her fingers against the counter, glancing back to see Will emerging from the bus. Behind him were Isaac, Richard and Jan.

“You’ll be in room #601, ma’am,” the concierge reported and handed her a room key.

Y/n yanked the card out of his palm before he could tell her the bellboy would be happy to take her suitcase. “Thank you.”

She hurried across the lobby to the elevator, praying she could make a getaway without anyone see-

“Hey, Y/n!”

She stopped in her tracks, so close…

Y/n turned around and spotted Ted, hurrying across the lobby as one would after a long drive. She managed a smile and a wave, pressing the elevator’s button repeatedly with her other hand.

“Don’t forget,” Ted called as he made a beeline for the bathrooms. “Team movie, 7:30. I’ll give ya a hint; if you love Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, you ain’t gonna wanna miss this one!”

In three weeks, Y/n had dodged a lot of invitations. A lot. Another declination and she was convinced she’d develop an ulcer.

“Sounds good,” she shouted just as the elevator doors opened. She jumped inside and pressed her floor number before anyone else spot her.

Just before the doors closed, she caught the first of the boys entering the lobby. Just past Sam, Y/n glimpsed the sharp edges of Jamie’s face. Her heart caught in her throat, the mere sight of him was enough to startle her.

She wondered how long she could pretend everything was fine before she proved herself wrong.

—————————

Y/n hid in her room the rest of the day. She didn’t dare leave to get ice or see the city, sure that with her luck, she’d run into someone the second she stepped out.

Half-way through the afternoon, a knock at the door surprised her. She peeked through the peephole to see Keeley. Out of anyone, she was the one that Y/n couldn’t totally avoid.

The door swung open and Y/n put on a smile, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted, “You beat us here.”

“Yeah,” Y/n chuckled, “Trust me, I’d have rather gotten the sleep.”

“Right,” Keeley chortled, “Can I come in?”

Y/n opened the door wider and allowed it. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to steal your pillow chocolates,” her boss cheekily smirked but didn’t move to grab the candy.“And…to ask if you might reconsider talking to Jamie?”

“Keeley,” Y/n sighed in frustration, rubbing at her face, “I told you-“

“I know,” Keeley held up her hands, “But I just talked to him and…he’s really in his head. It’s bad, Y/n. I’ve never seen him like this.”

While she could pretend all she wanted that Jamie meant little to her, Y/n was growing more and more worried. Every one of his dreams were coming true, and the ones that hadn’t were on the horizon. He should have been on top of the world and instead, he was spiraling. She wanted nothing more than to bang on his door, wrap him in her arms and fix it all. Put him back together until he was his glorious self.

“Look,” Y/n pushed on one of her eyes, “Keeley, whatever you think I’m capable of doing for Jamie, I’m not. I’m not a footballer, I’m not his coach, I’m not his girlfriend,” she found the last words uncomfortably difficult to get out, “I’m half his publicity team. That’s it.”

“You’re more than that,” Keeley replied, she had the kindest way of arguing. “You two have been glued to each other’s sides since you got to Richmond. Jamie trusts you. If you just talk to him-“

Y/n pressed her hands against her lips as Keeley spoke. The panic was beginning to swirl inside her again.

“Keeley,” she cut her off and enunciated her words, “I can’t help him.”

After a whole season of working together, Keeley could easily tell when Y/n was lying, both to others and herself. She didn’t need to know what her and Jamie meant to one another, all that mattered was they did. If Y/n wasn’t ready to acknowledge it, there wasn’t anything Keeley could do.

“Okay,” she replied, once again resigned in her failed quest, “I’ll leave you be.”

Y/n didn’t move as Keeley’s furry jacket brushed past her, shutting her eyes to hide the tears. Only when she was alone once more did she let them streak her cheeks. Somewhere down the hall, Jamie was hurting, and that meant she was hurting as well.

—————————

At exactly 7:30, Y/n made her way down the hotel hall. Different conference rooms lined the walls and she followed their numbers till she found the one Ted had texted her. She slipped through the back door, the lights were dimmed and everyone had already taken their seats. Her version of perfect timing.

From her vantage point, Y/n had a perfect layout of the seating arrangement. The team were gathered in the first few rows. Keeley and Roy were at one end of the back row, with Ted, Beard, Rebecca and Higgins following. Y/n couldn’t help but let her eyes run over the players’ heads, spotting Jamie’s mop of hair in the front row.

After evaluating her options, Y/n chose the safest one at the nearest end of the back row, next to Trent Crimm.

“Just in time,” he whispered as she took the seat beside him.

“Yeah,” she replied, “Got lost.”

Trent nodded, waiting a few seconds before speaking up again, “You know, I’m sure anyone would be happy to switch. In case you wanted to sit with your friends.”

Y/n peered over at Trent, whose eyes gleamed suspiciously with knowledge.

“I’m fine,” she readjusted in her chair to prove the point.

Trent nodded, trying and failing not to smirk, “I’m honored to rank so high on your priority list.”

Y/n’s glance turned into a stare, the former journalist was smiling as if she were made of glass. Were her actions so obvious that even he had noticed?

Trent settled back into his chair, shifting his attention to the opening credits. Y/n did the same and focused just as the main title popped up.

You’ve Got Mail.

She groaned internally, if the universe was out to get her, choosing one of the most romantic comedies of all time was the greatest insult it could hurl.

For an hour and fifty-nine minutes, Y/n squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She couldn’t go more than thirty seconds without sneaking a peek at Jamie, who hadn’t moved at all since the start. He was a fidgeting mess every waking minute of the day. Something was terribly off.

After Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks kissed in the New York garden and his golden retriever leaped to embrace them, the lights came back on. Y/n distractedly clapped along with the rest of the room, already eyeing her exit.

“All right. Listen up, you big softies,” Ted announced, “10PM, lights out. Then get yourselves some beauty sleep for tomorrow’s big meet-cute with Man City. You hear? Alright, Ephron on three. One, two, three-“

A few people, Beard being the loudest, chanted the filmmaker’s name.

“Lovely to see you again,” Trent said, a tease to his tone, as Y/n got up and out of her seat.

She hesitated, catching his knowing expression once more, and debated saying something. She decided it wasted energy and turned on her heel, making it only two steps before Keeley grabbed hold of her arm.

“Come on,” she ordered, pulling Y/n behind her.

“What?” Y/n asked, “Where the-“

Keeley didn’t answer, tugging her across the room towards the door Roy was holding open.

“Keeley, what-“

“Shh,” Keeley hushed, finally letting go of Y/n’s arm.

Y/n followed alongside her boss and Roy, unsure of where they were leading her. When they got to the lobby and she caught Jamie’s silhouette ahead of them, she came to a halt.

“No.”

“Y/n-“ Keeley began.

“No,” Y/n slashed a hand through the air, “I told you no.”

“Fuck your no,” Roy snapped, “I don’t care what the fuck’s going on wth you two, but your job is to make the club look good,” Roy pointed to Jamie’s fleeting figure, “And he makes us look good. So you’re gonna do your fucking job and you’re gonna help us fucking fix this.”

Y/n chuckled with deep annoyance, “You know what? Fuck you, Kent. I’m not one of your footballers you can boss around any time you’re in a shit mood,” she stuck a finger out at Roy, “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Oi!” Keeley exclaimed, her heels slapping against the floor as she marched back, “Both of you, stop it. Come on!”

Roy and Y/n broke their stare, Jamie was rounding the corner and heading out the hotel’s doors. Sparing each other one more hardened glare, they followed Keeley.

The three of them exited the hotel, Keeley spotting Jamie passing the Richmond bus, and they traced his path. Against all she told herself, Y/n went on her own free will, chasing him through the Manchester evening.

Keeley’s stalking technique involved scurrying behind cars and lampposts, while Y/n clung to building walls. Ever the least subtle of any group, Roy simply walked the street, not using much caution to mask his presence.

They followed Jamie through neighborhoods and into the inner part of the city. They crossed bridges, climbed stairs and finally ended up on one side of a florescent lit tunnel. On their descent down the steps, they lost sight of him.

“The fuck is he?” Roy asked.

“I don’t know,” Keeley answered, “You’ve lost him.”

Roy glanced around them, “You said he went down here.”

“I did not,” Keeley argued, “You said that.”

“No, I said he’s in a tunnel,” Roy corrected as the three of them marched down the way, “I didn’t say he was in this tunnel. She’s the one who thought it was this one.”

“He did come down this one,” Y/n said sternly.

“Well, there’s no other tunnel, is there?” Keeley reprimanded them, “I don’t believe it. You’ve lost Jamie Tartt.”

“We didn’t lose him,” Y/n argued, silently worried. The second she’d lost eyes on Jamie was the second their surroundings suddenly became unsettling.

“You can’t lose Jamie Tartt,” Roy replied.

“Well, you have,” Keeley fired back.

“OI!”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n jumped at the exclaim, spinning around and shouting various expletives.

“Fucking hell!”

“What the fuck?!”

Jamie stood, hood over his head and hands in his pockets. “Why are you following me?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you prick,” Roy spoke kind words with contrasting anger.

“What’s going on, Jamie?” Keeley asked, “Are you buying drugs?”

Jamie’s confused stare turned to Y/n, he locked up. The three weeks of not seeing her made her sudden presence feel like a hallucination.

Any face Y/n had been wearing dropped the second her eyes met Jamie’s. This was the closest they’d been since that night outside her apartment.

They came back to themselves quickly, hiding whatever they were feeling for the sake of Keeley and Roy being present.

Jamie nodded towards the path ahead of them, “Come on.”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n followed without question as Jamie guided them through the tunnel. It led up to a crowded neighborhood, a council estate that looked like it had seen better days.

Y/n made an effort to follow Roy, keeping as much distance as she could between her and Jamie. Her presence would probably mess with his head even more so than her absence might have. She was starting to wonder if the choice to come had been a selfish one.

They passed a group of kids kicking a football against a brick wall.

“Oi,” one of them called, “Are you Jamie Tartt?”

Jamie pushed back his hood, “Yeah.”

“More like Jamie Fart,” the youngest taunted.

“Screw you, dickhead,” the tallest one shouted, “Prick!”

“Yeah, who are you?”

“City’s gonna fuck you up tomorrow!”

Through the haranguing of insults, Jamie smiled, glancing over to Keeley, and sneaking one at Y/n. He led them away towards the row of houses.

Roy stuck around, turning to stare down the kids, who’d gone dead silent. Y/n readied herself to drag Roy away kicking and screaming from unloading on them.

Instead, he held up his hands in an ‘ok’ sign, “Good lads.”

While the kids were clearly thrilled at having been complimented by the Roy Kent, Y/n slapped his arm as hard as she could. Roy grasped it and silently protested before Y/n pointed to where Jamie and Keeley had gone off to.

They arrived on the doorsteps of one of the houses. Jamie rang the doorbell and they waited till a pair of eyes popped through one of the door’s glass bits.

“Hey,” the man exclaimed before opening the door, greeting them with a wide grin, “Jamie!”

“How you doing, Simon?” Jamie smiled and pointed to the group, “This is Keeley, that’s Roy, and that’s Y/n.”

“Come on in, come on in,” Simon waved them into the home.

Jamie entered first, shaking Simon’s hand, “How are you, mate? Good seeing you, man.”

“Yeah, great,” Simon replied as he ushered his guests in.

Keeley, Roy and Y/n all gave various greetings as they crossed the threshold. None of them knew quite where they were.

“Georgie,” Simon called up the stairs, “We’ve got visitors!”

A female voice called back down, “What was that, love? Someone at the door?”

Jamie made a beeline for the bottom of the staircase, just as a woman stopped at the top, frozen by what lay in front of her.

“Hello, Mommy.”

Y/n’s eyes widened.

Georgie screamed as she ran down the steps, leaping into her son’s arms. “Jamie!”

“Mommy, I’d like to introduce you to Keeley,” Jamie turned to face his friends, “And this hairy prick’s Roy,” his smile dropped an imperceptible inch, “And that’s Y/n over there.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted in her normal bubbly tone.

“Hi,” Y/n managed to eek out, holding up a nervous hand.

“Hey, you,” Roy said smoothly.

“Hi,” Georgie greeted them all while hugging Jamie once more, “It’s lovely to finally meet you all. I’d come and give you a hug,” she squeezed the sides of her son’s face, “But I’m not letting go of this one!”

Jamie lifted his mom into the air and spun her around.

“There they go,” Simon observed, “Right, who wants some sweet treats?”

Simon slipped off deeper into the house while Georgie and Jamie stayed in their embrace.

“Look at your gorgeous face,” she exclaimed as Jamie carried them both down the hallway, “I love it. How have you been? Look at you.”

Run. All of Y/n’s instincts told her to run right back out that door and take her chances with being abducted in the sketchy tunnel. Roy and Keeley must have sensed her unease because Keeley reached back for Y/n’s hand and Roy kept behind her, forcing her inside.

Georgie and Jamie had managed to separate long enough for Jamie to snuggle up against his mom on the living room couch. Keeley, Y/n and Roy stood at the entrance to the room, unsure of where to go.

“Oh, come and sit down,” Georgie gestured to the rest of the room.

Keeley and Roy entered less hesitatingly than Y/n, who took up a seat on the arm of the couch. To say she was uncomfortable was an understatement of epic proportions. Here she’d gone to every effort to avoid Jamie, and she’d ended up in what was clearly his childhood home with his mother.

She glanced over at the shrine to Jamie on the far wall, various pictures of him from different stages of life proudly displayed. Baby pictures all the way to league headshots. Y/n wanted to evaporate into thin air.

Simon popped back into the room with a plate of baked goods, dishing one out to each of his guests as Georgie and Jamie talked.

“It was just poopy,” Jamie quietly vented to his mom, his thick accent changing the word entirely, “You know, it really upset me. This guy on Twitter, he kept saying that it was blonde, but I’m like, ‘It’s fucking walnut mist, mate.’”

Y/n nearly spit out the bite of scone she was chewing. If this whole debacle was about his vanity, she’d march out the door. They’d argued several times over the exact shade of the highlights.

“Yeah, obviously,” Georgie agreed, stroking her son’s hair, “He’s done a lovely job, it’s dead natural.”

Simon finished pouring the tea, looking up expectantly at the party. “What do you think?”

Keeley smiled, “It’s really yummy.”

“Yeah, it’s wonderful,” Y/n managed to find her voice.

Keeley elbowed Roy, who was lost staring at the sight of his former nemesis cuddled up with his mother like a lost child. “It’s fucking delicious,” he said distractedly before returning.

“Well, it’s a Paul Hollywood recipe, but I’ve gone a little bit rogue on it,” Simon explained.

Allowing herself to slip back into a world where Jamie was damn near the center, Y/n wondered who Simon was. He clearly wasn’t Jamie’s biological father, he was the complete antithesis of the man she’d heard horror stories about. Jamie had never mentioned having a step-dad.

“Babes,” Georgie said softly, “Do you wanna give Roy, Keeley and Y/n the grand tour? Show them around a bit?”

“Yes,” Simon agreed, catching the signals his wife was throwing at him. “Good idea. Thank—“ he stood and hit his head on the overhead light, “Oops! Right, follow me. We will start in the kitchen, aka my laboratory.”

Y/n was the first to stand, but fell behind Keeley, making her a buffer. When Roy hesitated to leave, she tugged him harshly out the room.

“Fuckin’ grip you’ve got,” he complained as they walked to the kitchen.

“Oh, bite me,” Y/n retorted. Keeley had good intentions, but she was ready to kick Roy for dragging her into this.

Simon took them on a full tour of the house, showcasing his kitchen and its appliances off as if they were his most prized possessions. All along the walls of the house were pictures of him and Georgie on various trips and holidays. Scattered between them were childhood pictures of Jamie.

Eventually, Simon led them up the stairs and down a short hall. “And here is the main attraction,” he announced, opening a door and flipping on a light, “Jamie’s room.”

“Oh, sweet Lord,” Y/n muttered under her breath. This was way too deep in.

The room seemed untouched since the day Jamie had left it. Both childhood toys and teen paraphernalia were stacked on shelves and dressers. The bedding had a football pattern to it and there were various trophies for the sport nearby. On the walls, there were school certificates and diplomas and-

“Fucking hell.”

Y/n turned to see a poster of Roy, sporting a Chelsea kit and a very shaggy haircut tacked to Jamie’s wall.

“Ah, yes,” Simon looked to the footballer, “Many posters have come and gone over the years. Henry, Gerrard, Ronaldo…but Roy Kent, always remains.”

Y/n slapped a hand over her mouth and snorted, ignoring the daggers Roy was sending her way.

An phone alarm went off and Simon pulled the device out of his pocket. “Oh! Meat pies are done,” he said, “Excuse me.”

As he shut the door, another poster was revealed. This one of Keeley during her more risqué modeling days, holding two footballs against her breasts.

“Fucking hell,” she grunted.

“Yep, no, can’t do it,” Y/n finally found her voice and the doorknob. She wasn’t sure she could spend another second in Jamieland without her head exploding. “Simon!”

Their friendly host had barely made it down one of the stairs, “Yeah?”

“Let me help you with the pies,” Y/n jogged down the hall.

“Oh, no, you go ahead and look around,” he said kindly.

“No, really,” Y/n followed him down the staircase, “You’re kind enough to deal with three strangers barging into your house. It’s the least I can do.”

Simon scoffed lightheartedly as he led them into the kitchen, “No friend of Jamie’s is a stranger in this house,” he slipped on a pair of oven mitts, “Right, if you want to place these on the cooling rack.”

Simon pulled out the tray of pies and set them on the stove. Y/n went about setting them on the racks, wondering if she’d made the better choice. Now, instead of sitting in Jamie’s bedroom, she was cooking with his step-dad.

“So,” Simon spoke as he moved about the kitchen, “I can gather what brought Jamie here, but what made you three tag along?”

“Oh,” Y/n searched for an explanation, “He’s been a bit…off…lately and we were just worried about him.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” he replied, “Coming home’s a big deal, especially in this case.”

Y/n furrowed her brows, “How do you figure?”

“Well, if you were playing against your hometown in your hometown,” Simon wiped his hands on his apron, “Might stir up some feelings.”

Said out in the open, it all sounded so obvious. Of course Jamie was struggling with playing Man City. Not only that, he hadn’t spoken to his dad in ages and it was almost guaranteed the bastard would show up to cheer against his own son.

Y/n sighed, she felt like an idiot.

“Speaking of home,” Simon broke her out of her head, “Your accent doesn’t suggest you’re from around here.”

“No,” Y/n returned to their conversation, “I, uh, moved here for school and never left.”

“Oh, fascinating. What made you stay?”

Y/n shrugged and placed the last of the pies on the cooling rack. “I was just settled and didn’t want to leave.”

“That must’ve been awful for your parents,” Simon said, “When Jamie moved to London, Georgie was devastated, and that’s only a half day’s drive. I can’t imagine a whole ocean’s worth of distance.”

If Y/n thought the night couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the mention of her parents proved her wrong. Between the location, a vulnerable Jamie in the next room, and her family being brought up, she thought she might burst into tears.

“They’re okay with it,” she answered.

“Gosh,” Simon commented, stood at the island, “That can’t be true.”

“It is,” Y/n replied quickly and spun around, attempting a smile, “But I’ve got a lovely life here.”

“Of course,” he grinned, “Working for a football club’s got to be exciting. Jamie’s mentioned you plenty.”

Y/n wasn’t moving, but she could feel everything inside her stop. “Jamie’s…mentioned me?”

“Loads,” Simon nodded, “He calls round every once in a while. Obviously he keeps busy, but the name Y/n has come up nearly every conversation. I thought I might break into hives when Georgie told me about the Christmas dinner you two cooked.”

Simon began to recount all the memories shared between Jamie and Y/n that he and Georgie had become privy to. It wasn’t just the more notable moments like their chaotic Christmas or helping Y/n move to Richmond, but the little ones too. Sneaking into the stadium for lunch breaks in the seats. Post-match interviews Y/n oversaw and how Jamie would try and make her laugh with his answers. Y/n making Jamie decorate his house because the bareness of it drove her crazy. Jamie showing up on Y/n’s doorstep on her birthday right at midnight. Trying to learn how to cook together after the disastrous Christmas dinner and kind of, almost, sort of succeeding. Picking one another’s songs at team karaoke nights. Conversations in the hallways of Nelson Road. Movies and shows suggested to one another and the reactions that followed.

The whole of Jamie and Y/n’s relationship was played back for her in his parent’s kitchen.

She was speechless.

“I, uh,” she managed, her eyes beginning to glisten, “I didn’t know Jamie talked that much about his friends.”

“His friends?” Simon looked to Y/n before ducking his eyes away when he saw she was serious, “Oh, yes…his friends.”

The small slip was enough to confirm what Y/n already suspected.

“Um,” she said, her throat suddenly thick, “It’s getting late. Would you mimd telling Roy and Keeley I took a cab back to the hotel?”

“Of course,” Simon smiled, “Can I send you home with a pie?”

“Oh, no, that’s alright,” Y/n was already crossing the kitchen, “But thank you so much for the scones. Please tell Georgie thank you for letting us interrupt your night.”

Simon waved her off, “Nonsense. Get back safe.”

Y/n speed walked down the hall, not sparing so much as a glance in the living room’s direction. She threw the front door open and hurried down the way. With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber.

Her breath came in quick puffs, the anxiety creating quite a home in her chest. She was on the verge of having the worst anxiety attack of her life, all because she’d come to the conclusion that she was cared for. No, this wasn’t care. This was something else entirely.

Little did she know, the second he’d heard her brush through the hall, Jamie was on high alert. He’d looked up from his mom, jumping to a seated position as the door slammed shut.

“Was that Y/n?” He asked Simon as he passed by the living room.

“Yes, she said she had to get back to the hotel,” Simon answered, grabbing the plate of half eaten scones from the coffee table.

Jamie was up and off the couch in an instant, hurrying down the hall and out the front door. Y/n was stood on the sidewalk, her hand pressed to her chest as if she was on the verge of collapsing.

“Hey.”

Y/n’s head whipped around, Jamie was jogging down the steps to her. He kept a fair bit of distance between them at first, unsure of how she felt about his presence. All she could do was attempt another breath.

“Hey,” Jamie crossed the space, deciding to reach for Y/n’s arms, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head and avoided meeting Jamie’s concerned eyes.

“No, what’s wrong?” Jamie’s thumbs stroked over her sweater.

For all her fight, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to battle the warm grip Jamie had on her. She’d missed it.

“I’m fine, Jamie,” she lied once more, “I just want to go back to the hotel.”

Jamie scanned her face, finding the tears in her red eyes before she could hide them. Just as much as there was something wrong with him, there was something eating away at Y/n.

In the three weeks they’d stayed away from one another, Jamie had found life to be unbearable. The anxiety about playing Man City and the possibility of seeing his father once more had manifested in his playing. He’d struggled through training more and more, slowly becoming paralyzed by the lack of his usual fire. Without Y/n there to go and vent all his fears to, someone who understood without him ever having to explain a thing, it had all snowballed. Breaking down in the boot room and sobbing into Roy’s shoulder could have been avoided. His panic attack when Keeley had come to his room to check on him would have never happened.

But it wasn’t just that. Jamie found himself missing Y/n in the dullest of moments. Making dinner for himself, searching for something on television, driving home from work. Sleep was nearly impossible now that he’d gotten to fade out with her in his arms. The vacancy she’d left in his life was overwhelming. Jamie had never wanted to share such insignificant moments with someone in his life. He’d never felt as unsettled without someone.

This wasn’t some infatuation. He couldn’t live without her.

“Look,” Jamie tilted her head up, her eyes finally meeting his, “I know everything’s wrecked a-and we fucked it all up but…” his breath came out trembling, “But I love you.”

Y/n cries began to shake her chest.

“And I know this is the worst fucking time to say it,” Jamie bit back a laugh, but he felt ten tons lighter with the words finally spoken, “But I don’t regret what happened. If I could go back and do it a hundred times over, I would.”

A single cry escaped Y/n.

“And I need you,” Jamie spoke urgently, dragging a hand to Y/n’s cheek, brushing a thumb over the wet skin, “I need you with me ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ without you. I don’t. You’ve fucking ruined me.”

Y/n was caught somewhere between a frown and a smile. Her worst fear and her greatest wish.

“Don’t leave, please,” Jamie pleaded, slipping his free hand around Y/n’s waist when she didn’t recoil at his touch. “I wanna be with you.”

Y/n’s sobs caused her whole body to shudder, which only made Jamie to pull her closer. She ended up enveloped in his arms, the only place she’d truly desired to be since the moment she’d left them.

Jamie pressed a kiss to Y/n’s forehead, trying to ease whatever pain and pour out his sentiments. The relief of holding her again was all-consuming and he reveled in it.

For a moment, they both realized what they could have. They could put the whole horrid separation behind them and let themselves be happy. They could come home to one another. They could hold nothing back from each other. They could build a life together and give each other all the love they’d ever been deprived of.

Where Jamie felt hope, cradling the girl he loved, Y/n felt panic, fearing the risk more than the loss.

“Jamie,” she whispered, “No.”

Jamie pulled back, fearfully gazing into her bloodshot eyes. “What do you mean?”

“No,” Y/n repeated, “We can’t.”

“Wh-“ he stammered, she was slipping away from him, “What are you talking about? We can.”

Y/n whined, “I can’t, Jamie. I can’t.”

“You can, you can,” Jamie insisted, holding Y/n’s cheek with purpose. He caught the headlights of the Uber coming down his street, “Why? Why can’t we have this?”

“Tell me,” Jamie softly begged, “Tell me why. Why can’t we have this?”

Finally, Y/n’s emotions burst, everything flooding out in a mess of terror.

“Because I don’t want this,” she exclaimed tearfully, “I don’t want this, Jamie. I don’t want y-“

She caught herself before she could finish it, but it was still too late. The damage had been done, and the wreckage spread across Jamie’s face. His lips parted in shock and his touch lost its urgency.

In her blind panic, Y/n hadn’t expected such a lie to come out of her mouth. But there was no taking it back, and the fear of all Jamie was ready to give was possessing her. This was the only way to keep herself safe.

Behind them, the Uber driver had pulled up to the house. “Oi, one of you Y/n?”

Y/n blinked up at Jamie, who was searching her eyes for the dishonesty in what she’d said. He found it so easily, but her determination to run was visibly clearer.

“Please let me go,” Y/n asked, her voice barely audible. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she spoke.

Jamie knew there was no more fight to give. He’d poured the contents of his heart out to her fruitlessly. He couldn’t force her to face the truth, that she might love him back, or that she even cared that he loved her. He was out of plays to make, all he could do was let her walk away.

He dropped his hands as slow as he could, savoring the last feel of her he’d get. Y/n trembled as his fingers left her face, committing his touch to her memory. This was the end before they even reached the beginning.

“In or out, love,” the driver interrupted.

Summoning the last of her strength, Y/n sought out Jamie’s eyes, glistening with tears now. She’d dealt the ultimate blow to an already wounded soldier. Slowly, she backed away from him, fighting every urge to run back into his arms and take it all back. If he took one step towards her, she knew she’d do it.

Jamie obeyed her wishes and didn’t move.

With one final gaze, Y/n turned away, climbing into the backseat of the Uber. He didn’t wait to drive, pulling the car away from as soon as she’d shut the door.

Y/n watched Jamie in the rear view mirror before it became too much. She dissolved to silent wracking sobs, caving in on herself. Not only had she walked away from the man she knew she surely loved, but she’d broken his heart doing so. The self-destruction was no longer only affecting her, she was destroying those around her.

Jamie wiped a shaking hand over his face as he watched the car carry Y/n away. He struggled to comprehend all that had just happened. He’d lost her.

Somehow, he carried himself back inside. He shuffled robotically back into the living room. His mum and Simon were seated on the couch, speaking in hushed tones.

Georgie looked expectantly to her son. Jamie had never needed to talk about him and Y/n in so many words. She knew exactly what he felt. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Jamie stared ahead at the carpet.

“Did you talk to her?” Georgie asked, asking something far deeper.

Jamie nodded.

“Does she feel the same?”

There was the true answer, and there was the easy answer. Jamie chose the latter.

“No.”

——————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #keeley jones x reader #roy kent x reader #heartfirst

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