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#even Rebecca is doing fine on her own
tedtrentconspiracy · 1 year
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Getting big Nanny McPhee vibes from Ted in s3. I'm not sure Richmond AFC needs him anymore? The players are solving their own issues and motivating each other with love and understanding. Jamie has been great at fostering that team spirit. The Ted Lasso effect worked and has perhaps run its course. Even Roy is now handling the press. Rebecca is now the one telling Ted to be reasonable about his ex Ted's motivational speeches to the team are falling a little flat ... I'm starting to think he really is going back to Kansas or onto another team unless he's given a reason to stay? Like big "When you need me, but do not want me, then I must stay. When you want me, but no longer need me, then I have to go" implications
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si1verghosts · 3 months
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Hi!
3. A kiss on the forehead😌
helloooo dear anon!! i am sorry this took so long i could not for the life of me figure out to write but then ! i wrote this on the 4th and i realized it could work... maybe... sorta. this may not be what you were expecting/wanting but there's forehead kisses in there.... somewhere 🫡 also, if u are not american i apologize for giving you a july 4th fic 😭 but the holiday is relatively inconsequential here like theres no patriotism it's just a backdrop if u know what i mean.... anyway, i hope u enjoy <33
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you taste like the 4th of july
di leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)
wc: 3.5k
18+ | cw: mentions of drinking | tw: thoughts about death and dying
tags: established relationship; fluff (i guess??); slight changes to canon to suit author's headcanons
read on ao3
a/n: for the past few months i've been working on this very insane multi-chap post di leon fic 😵‍💫 this was written with that in mind But does not have a place in that story... probably.... idk!!! either way, i think it can be read as a standalone just fine
additionally, there is a scene in here where leon picks the reader up. i would just like to say like... he gets thrown into concrete walls on a biweekly basis and gets up and walks it off without issue so i think he can lift anyone no matter their size or shape!!
not beta read or proofread - sorry if any of it is gibberish i've had a wicked migraine the past few days... will maybe attempt to proofread once i can see correctly again 🚬🧍‍♀️regardless, all mistakes are my own
i do not own leon or any other resi character mentioned, etc etc, please don't sue me <3
please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chatbot and/or writing generator.
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"It was a good day, wasn't it?" Leon asks, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as you stand over the patio table, cleaning up the abandoned plates and platters.
You hum. It was; a beautiful, cloudless July 4th, spent with Leon's friends in the backyard of your home. The only ones missing were Ashley and Ingrid; the former having a standing family commitment and the latter planning to spend her holiday on the beach, away from the country and your fiancé.
Typically, Chris hosted the Independence Day cookout, but Leon offered up your new home as this year's venue, citing your in-ground pool and the plenty of extra space you have for guests to stay. In reality, he just wanted the chance to out-grill Chris - he'd been preparing since Memorial Day; testing different spice and sauce combinations as well as stocking your freezer full of large cuts of meat.
He'd started before you were even awake, chopping and seasoning in the kitchen, slowly loading up the smoker. You'd joined him on the patio a few hours later, watching from your pool floaty as he poked and prodded at various things.
You don't even eat meat, didn't know the whole thing was so involved, but you did enjoy the view; worn blue jeans hugging his frame as he crouched to check a thermometer.
You had taken a short break from the water, tying up lights and setting a few little decorations around before your guests arrived. Rebecca was the first, tucking her jugs of pre-made cocktail and platter of deviled eggs into your fridge before joining you on the patio.
Chris wasn't far behind, unloading two coolers filled with beer and containers of homemade potato and pasta salads. He'd handed one off to you, grinning, "Claire made one just for you this year."
You'd thanked him, making another attempt to get him to share his family's recipes with you. It was futile, you probably couldn't even waterboard it out of either of them.
Claire had arrived on her motorcycle shortly after, pulling a bundle of fireworks out of her saddlebags. "Sorry I'm late," she said - even though she wasn't - dumping the pile on the ground, thankfully far away from the grill. "Had to stop for these."
Leon had crouched down to inspect them, listening intently as Claire told him about all the different varieties she'd purchased while you relaxed back into the pool.
Sherry arrived next, Jake trailing behind her. She'd left both him and her bags of chips at the table, giving Leon and Claire quick hugs before immediately joining you in the water.
She'd slipped in right beside your floaty, grabbing your hand to get a look at your engagement ring - she'd yet to see it, having been so busy with work. Her eyes widened at the ring as she pushed her sunglasses up to rest on top of her head, "Leon picked this out? Our Leon? Leon Kennedy? Are you sure?"
You'd giggled at her astonishment, "Ashley helped him out; took him to one of her favorite jewelers."
"I should've guessed," She nods. "For my 20th Birthday, he bought me this crazy cute pink tennis bracelet and I was like, 'no way you picked this out alone.' He fessed up that he got a little help from a friend named Ashley.
"At the time, I thought it was just some girlfriend - or hoped, I guess. Back then, I spent a lot of time hoping that Claire and Leon weren't just… working; I liked to think they were taking time for themselves, that they were happy," she had trailed off then, looking off to the tree line behind your house for a minute. Blinking the mist from her eyes, she shrugged, continuing on, "Anyways, I'm thankful to Ash for that bracelet, it was there with me though… a lot. And I'm thankful to you for making him happy, like I always wanted him to be."
With that, you slid off the float to give her a hug, holding her tight as you whispered your thanks. You had worked to bite back your tears - if she didn't cry, neither would you.
Luckily, Jill had walked in a few seconds later, providing a distraction in the form of the most ridiculously large watermelon. "Hey, Kennedy," she shouted, pulling Leon out of his conversation with Claire as she gestured to the melon tucked under her arm. "Can't burn this, can I?"
Leon had thrown his head back with a laugh - in previous years, Jill had always brought boxed brownies with extra crispy edges and Leon invariably had to make a comment about them. "I don't know," he had shrugged, "When it comes to you, Valentine, I'll never say never."
Jill had reared the watermelon back, acting as if she was going to throw it at him. Leon had thrown his arms up, shielding his face, causing everyone to crumble into laughter at the scene.
"It was nice," you agree, reaching to pick up the barong machete he had given Jill when she asked for a knife to cut the melon. "We do have kitchen knives, you know," you scold mockingly, gently waving the blade around.
"I know," he says, releasing you to reach around and pluck the machete out of your hand. "It's good to exercise these every once in a while, though."
You roll your eyes at him, "It's a machete, Leon, not a horse."
He waves you off, slipping through the patio door to wash the blade in the kitchen sink. You take the opportunity to speed clean, knowing it'll be a much harder task once he returns and wraps his arms back around you.
Thankfully everyone had taken care of their own plates and cups - they'd tried to stay and do more but you had ushered them out of the backyard, wanting Chris, Sherry and Jake to depart before the traffic picked up with the crowds leaving the city following the fireworks shows. Jill, Claire and Rebecca had taken up on your offer to stay, at least, piling into your guest rooms. You were glad to have them, secretly plotting to drag them to brunch once you all woke.
You finish piling the platters as Leon makes his way back outside. Before he can get his hands on you and derail your progress, you point to the stack, "Take those inside."
He frowns, "Can't it just wait until tomorrow?"
"We'll get ants; come on, five minutes and it'll be done."
He sighs, but doesn't protest further, carrying the heavy plates inside as you follow him with the utensils. You stack everything by the sink before turning to him, "Is there any of Becca's cocktail left?"
He cocks his brow, tilting his head, "You really want to try that again?"
It's a valid question - you had given it a go earlier and despite everyone's warnings to take it easy, you had thrown back a large mouthful right off the bat. You ended up wincing in pain, "Fuck, that burns. What'd you put in there, Becca?"
She'd shrugged, "Oh, you know, a splash of this, a splash of that. And," she teased, drawing out the vowel, "A bit of my own creation."
"Your own creation…" You had muttered, trailing off before it hit you, "Test tube alcohol?"
She had giggled, grinning, "Takes some getting used to."
You had tried another, much tinier sip. You were able to enjoy the sweetness of the juice for a moment before the burn kicked in again, causing you to curse once more, louder.
Leon had shifted his attention from Chris to you at your exclamation. Seeing the jug of Rebecca's cocktail in front of you on the table, he quickly pieced together what was happening, calling over to Rebecca from his place by the grill, "You trying to kill my fiancé, Becks?"
"Absolutely not; that'd be a stupid thing for me to do," she'd shot back. "She's the only one who can keep you in line, and we kind of like you like that."
"Well," you start, rolling the word around your mouth, "No. But yes - there's gotta be some sort of trick to it, right? Everyone else drank it just fine."
"The trick is," he starts, voice low, reaching out to grab ahold of your hips, "To not drink it. Let me make you some tea instead."
"Fine," you pout, relaxing into his grip, not bothering to argue - tea won't make you hate yourself in the morning.
He moves his hands from your hips, sliding his fingertips along your spine. "Go wait outside," he says, releasing you with a featherlight kiss to your forehead, "I'll bring it out."
With a brush of your lips against his cheek in thanks, you slip away from him, heading back out to the backyard and pulling off your shorts, settling onto the ledge of the shallow end of the pool. The air has cooled with the setting of the sun, becoming a comforting warmth instead of an overbearing heat. You dip your legs into the water, thankful you insisted on having a pool when you and Leon were house hunting.
Someone is still setting off fireworks; they're a few miles away, though - you can hear them more than you can see them. Resting back on your palms, you close your eyes, imagining what bursts of color may be accompanying each sound.
Leon joins you a few minutes later - just after the fireworks had died down - sporting his swim shorts and carrying your tea. He bends, setting the mug next to you with a kiss to your temple, nosing at your hair. "Earl Grey," he reports before drawling, "How terribly unpatriotic of you."
"You going to arrest me for treason, Agent Kennedy?" You laugh, reaching up to squeeze his thigh below the hem of his shorts. "You're the one who made it; they'd nail you as an accomplice."
He falls into a crouch, leg muscles bunching under the pads of your fingertips as he shifts closer to touch his lips on your cheek. "They can hang us together, then," he remarks, voice a bit too serious for it to be just a joke. "Side by side, off the same branch."
You sit back just enough to get your eyes focused on him, reaching your other hand out to thumb at his bottom lip. "Dulce et decorum est pro cor mori," you whisper, tacking on a hum in question.
He cocks his head at the unfamiliar words, nipping at your nail playfully, "English please, baby."
You consider him for a moment, the translation of the true phrase running through your mind; how sweet and honorable it is to die for one's country. The old lie, it's come to be known as - fittingly.
It's a similar sentiment to one that's grown to become your fear; that he'll die for the sake of the country, under orders from the government, believing it was his duty.
But you think your spin on it may be true; would be willing to find out.
You don't want to weigh him down with the thought, though, choosing to reel him in for a kiss instead. "I love you," is the answer you settle on, laying the words down right on his tongue.
He seems content with your translation - the method of delivery likely having something to do with it - humming into your mouth. He kisses you back lazily for a long, languid moment before he pulls away, "As much as I'm enjoying this, I've been wanting to get in there all day," he says, nodding his head towards the water.
"Go," you chuckle, giving him a gentle push away from you with the hand still resting along his face.
He lays another quick peck against your lips before standing, padding around the edge to the steps. He pauses for a moment to pull his shirt over his head, skin honeyed under the soft glow of the lights you'd hung around the patio.
A second later, he slips under the surface without hesitation; kicking off the steps, moving quickly to the deep end. He almost shimmers as he glides along the floor of the pool, the rippling of the gentle waves he'd created making him seem like some sort of mirage as he passes by you.
He comes up for air once he hits the far wall, tossing his hair back, smoothing the water from his eyes. He doesn't rest long, though, beginning to swim short laps across the width of the deep end.
You observe him, sipping your tea slowly, appreciating the way his back and arms work with each stroke. He continues long enough for you to nearly drain your cup, stopping short when another trio of fireworks set off in the distance.
Setting your mug down, you eye him, preparing to slip into the pool to soothe him if you have to, but he relaxes once he connects the sound to the flashes in the sky. The tension that had flooded the line of his shoulders drains into the water as he shifts to wade backward, moving closer to where you sit.
You finish off your drink as he starfishes out across the surface of the water, floating just a few feet in front of you. You wonder if you could use him as a floaty, pinning up a note in your brain to try it out sometime.
"I'm glad you insisted on a pool, sweetheart," he sighs, breaking your companionable silence.
You hum, pleased, kicking your legs out gently and causing the water to lap against his skin. More fireworks sound out; he doesn't tense this time, but he does get his feet back under himself, moving to where you sit along the ledge.
Sliding his hands up your legs, he pillows his head in your lap, wet hair fanning out across your thighs. You shift your weight back onto your right hand, laying the other along his jaw. His eyes flutter closed as you brush your thumb along his cheekbone and the scar that runs beneath it.
He picks at the tie of your bathing suit absentmindedly, tugging at the strings when you slide your hand into his hair, scratching at his scalp. "Sherry said something to me earlier."
He makes a noise urging you to elaborate, not bothering to open his eyes.
"She told me that when she was younger, she hoped that you and Claire were living your lives; that you were doing more than just working, you know? She said she wanted you guys to be happy," you explain, working to keep your voice even.
He cracks his eyes open, picking his head up to watch you as you continue. "She thanked me," you swallow thickly, "for making you happy, like she always wanted you to be."
He smiles at your words, and it's a beautiful thing. You still get all twisted up inside with how gorgeous he is; neurons overclocking themselves with the thrill of being the subject of his attention.
"I owe you a thank you, too, baby," he starts, pausing to nose at your wrist.
"You don't owe me anything, Leon," you tug at his damp strands still between your fingers, highlights catching the yellow glow from the lights around the patio.
"I do," he says, the words sending a jolt through you. You never intended on getting married, yet here you are now, eager to hear the phrase on the altar.
He kisses the thin skin of your wrist, lips lingering as if he can feel the thrum of your heartbeat; knows that the pace has picked up under his affection. "All this," he pulls back, taking a hand off you to gesture to the pool; the backyard; the house; to you. "It's something I never thought I'd get.
"Sherry's right - you're behind basically every bit of happiness I have now, sweetheart; I owe it all to you." He reaches up, untangling your grip from his hair, thumbing gently at the ring he put there, "Thank you."
You can't respond verbally, will burst into tears if you do. In lieu of speech, you lean forward, pressing your lips against his insistently.
He seems to get the message; understands that the pleasure is all yours, that you'd give him anything and everything you can - knowing he'd do the same for you.
He gets his arms back around you, continuing your kiss as he lifts you from the edge of the pool and into the water with him. You wrap your legs around his waist, safe and secure in his hold.
His teeth catch along your bottom lip and the neighbors down the street set off fireworks, the bright bursts of color painting your backyard in reds and blues and greens and oranges. The sparks reflect off the surface of the water as he slides his nose against yours and not for the first time, you think this may all be a dream. Maybe you died four years ago and this whole thing has been some sort of afterlife; you aren't sure you'd done anything worth this treatment, though.
Maybe it's more supernatural in origin; an intricate hallucination weaved by a Djinn that's got you chained up in some dark, damp basement as it feeds off your blood. Or maybe you just went crazy and the pool is actually a padded room, Leon's mouth against yours a product of your mind working to distract itself from your reality.
Whatever the case may be, it certainly feels real when he shifts his hold on you, hoists you up higher to get at your neck, laying kisses up and down the column of your throat, nipping at your jaw.
But before he can venture much further, the neighbor's fireworks show grows into an extravaganza, the relentless popping and bursting becoming a nuisance, shattering the illusion of your teeny-boppy movie moment.
"Jeez," Leon mutters, breath hot against the saliva cooling on your skin, causing you to shudder. "Did they buy out a whole tent?"
"Did you check that Claire actually went to bed?" You ask, shaking yourself free of his hold. "She could've joined them; brought everything I wouldn't let her set off here."
He hums, letting you down into the water, considering your words - even though you said it as a joke, it certainly is a possibility. You seem to come to this realization at the same time, eyes narrowing at each other as the spray of fireworks continues overhead. "We should…" He starts, nodding towards the stairs.
"Yeah," you agree, already beginning to move.
You pause to grab your towels, wrapping your own around yourself, throwing the other over Leon's shoulders when you catch up to him at the patio door. Stepping inside, you hear someone knocking around your kitchen.
Luckily, it's Claire. She steps back from the cabinet she'd been rifling through to face you and Leon with a frown. "Isn't this shit ridiculous?" She remarks, pointing to the ceiling in reference to the fireworks.
"You're one to talk, Claire," Leon shoots back. "Didn't you just set off about five hundred dollars worth of them in my backyard a few hours ago?"
"Yes, a few hours ago," she reiterates. "Nothing should be set off after the show at the Capitol is finished - after that, you're done; you missed your shot; better luck next year."
"Exactly," you nod in agreement at her reasoning, "They should put you in charge."
She grins at your words, moving to continue on, but Leon cuts in before she can start; "What is it that you were clawing through my cabinets for?"
She sighs, displeased with his interruption, setting her hands on her hips. "Where do you keep the ibuprofen?"
Leon shoos her out of the way, padding across the kitchen to get the medicine himself. Claire relents without argument, attention immediately shifting back to you as she leans over the counter. "So," she wiggles her eyebrows, "It seems like that pool was a good investment, huh?"
You bite at your lip, ears burning with embarrassment that she'd seen you and Leon necking in the water like teenagers - even though you shouldn't be flustered; it is your house, after all.
Leon sets the bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water down in front of Claire, annoyance evident with the way he uses a bit more force than really necessary, causing the items to clack against the marble.
"What?" Claire questions, glaring at him. "It was cute."
Leon huffs in response, unable to hide the flush that crawls up his neck at her words. You can't help the giggle that bubbles out of you, enjoying the way they bicker like siblings.
Claire leaves Leon to stew, tossing you a grin as she collects the bottle and glass, bidding you goodnight once more before she leaves the kitchen.
You move around the counter to Leon, steps careful in an effort not to slip on the water that has dripped off him and onto the tile. The neighbors must've ran out of fireworks while you were distracted by Claire as it's silent when you wrap your arms around him, tucking your face into his neck. "Still a good day?" You ask, voice muffled against his skin.
He slings an arm around you, fingers fanning out along the small of your back, "Still a good day."
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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could you do a hotch x reader where reader has injured her leg and he walks her to the ambulance and then grows very protective of her in the hospital and/or office??
"Hotch, she's- aah," You gasp, leg burning with a fire that you're sure will turn it to ash, "She's down, I'm- I'm okay, I can wait, get her help."
"Morgan's got her," Hotch murmurs, slipping his hands beneath your arms as Derek attends to the unsub's final victim, "You need an ambulance."
"Ah, it- it hurts! It hurts, Hotch," You whimper, welcoming the rough material of his kevlar vest when it meets your face. He hauls you off of the ground, and you're ale to bury your face into his shoulder to ground yourself.
"I know," He murmurs, and when he has you on your feet, or rather, foot, he braces an arm at your thighs.
"Grab my neck," He instructs you, and if you weren't in mind-numbing pain, you'd be freaking out about flinging your arms around your boss's neck. It's even better when he lifts you bridal style, and you hope he does it again someday, minus the blood gushing from your leg.
It's certainly flowing less now, thanks to the jacket that Aaron had tied around the wound, so tight that it made you see stars. But there's still blood leaking from the bullet hole, and you can't look at it or else you start to get queasy on top of everything else.
To make sure you can't see it, you bury your face in his neck. It's unprofessional, sure, but you're bleeding out, so you think you deserve a pass.
"You're gonna be okay," Aaron hums, and you feel his voice thrumming through his throat, "We're almost to the ambulance, okay? Just hang on, don't close your eyes."
Every step that he takes jostles you in his arms, but he holds you tight. Sirens get louder in your ears and you see flashing lights even from where you're smothered against his skin, and before you know it you're being lowered into an ambulance.
Your vision swims as the EMTs get to work on your leg, and to your surprise, Aaron steps in beside you.
"Hotch," You rasp, looking at him through hazy eyes, "You- go, they need you there."
"They're fine." He assures you, settled on the bench beside your stretcher, "Dave and Morgan can drive back, and there's an ambulance waiting for Rebecca. I need to make sure you get settled, that you're not alone."
Very little can pull Hotch away from his duties as Unit Chief. You're fairly certain that he's supposed to wrap up, give his report at the scene and file paperwork for it later. He lets his agents leave, and he stays to finish the job himself. So you take your time to appreciate that he's given that up for you, that he's choosing to be carted to the hospital rather than take his typical position of authority.
He does the same three days later, skipping out on a meeting with Strauss to wheel you out of the sliding doors of the emergency ward. Your hands are hovering uselessly over the wheels, but once you realize he's serious about pushing you the entire way to the SUV, they melt over the armrests.
"Thanks, Hotch." You peer up, looking at the underside of his chin as he navigates the uneven sidewalk.
He glances down at your face, and you know what looks like his typical stern frown is really upside down to you, a kind smile against his cheeks.
"You're lucky I didn't let Morgan do this," He reaches the van, opening the passenger's side door and turning to help you out of the chair, "He would have brought along Prentiss and Reid just to have a wheelchair race."
He even buckles your seatbelt for you, despite your arms working fine. It means he's close, incredibly so, to your face, and he lingers for just a split second too long.
"I appreciate that," You laugh, and you think your actions through, but only minutely. You lean forwards, lips catching his cheek rather than his own mouth that you're yearning to kiss. It's intimate, of course, but you're hoping that it's ambiguous, that if he wants it to be romantic, it will be, and if he doesn't, then it won't.
Judging by the sweet, rosy blush that colors his cheeks when you pull away, he wants it to be.
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calicough · 10 months
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backbone – hazel callahan
— you helped rockbridge's divine pillar practice her receives.
volleyball player!hazel. libero!hazel. manager!reader. drabble!
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it was around seven in the evening and you were all alone in the gymnasium, checking the inventory of the equipments that the players had helped you put away. coach and josie, the captain, would usually help you with the inventory but surprisingly, they both had to leave early because of their own personal reasons. nevertheless, this was your job as the manager of the rockbridge bottoms. the name was rather unfitting and contradicting as your team would always make it to the finals in tournaments whether it'd be regionals or nationals.
their practice game went well today and they've made a lot of progress in such a short amount of time ever since they lost the match against the huntington tigers a week ago. stella-rebecca had finally mastered a float serve. pj and josie successfully executed the quick attack that they were trying to imitate. sylvie had managed to break all of brittany's blocks much to her dismay, although brittany did multiple setter dumps which left sylvie dumbfounded. everyone was thriving today. well, except for one player.
you were about to leave the equipment room when the door suddenly flew open, revealing hazel on the other side, wearing the team's varsity jacket over her green shirt. you quickly clutched your clipboard to your chest, scared out of your wits. you never got used to the court at night as coach was always there to accompany you.
"sorry," she sheepishly smiled, scratching the back of her neck, towel draped over her shoulders. "i thought you went home already."
compared to the others, you and hazel rarely talked despite being in the same year. your conversations were limited to volleyball talk and her title as the divine pillar or the backbone of rockbridge falls didn't help when trying to converse with her. you just find her extremely intimidating especially on the court with her stoic face and sharp eyes, even though you've seen her fool around with the others countless of times.
"it's fine," you replied, releasing your hard grip on your clipboard. "i thought you went home already."
hazel entered the room and grabbed a ball from the ball cart. you're already finished with inventory so you didn't mind. as she was about to leave the room and into the court, she turned around and gestured the ball in her hand. "wanna help me practice?"
you didn't have anything planned tomorrow and you were not in a hurry so you shrugged and said, "why not?"
you stood on the other side of the net opposite from each other, bouncing the ball off the floor as you got ready to serve. hazel was known for her agility when it comes to receiving the opponent's ball especially in longer rallies, earning her the aforementioned nickname. but ever since that match against huntington, her receives in practice games were sloppy and delayed. you had an idea of what caused this but you didn't want to assume.
hazel was already in position with her jacket tossed to the side and the sleeves of her shirt rolled upwards, exposing her biceps. her knees were bent and her palms faced outwards. you bounced the ball at least five times before throwing it up in the air and hitting it towards her direction. her eyes and her body followed the ball's movement. as the ball descended, she lunged forward with her arms positioned away from her body, properly receiving the ball with her forearms.
"nice!" you exclaimed as you grabbed another ball from the cart that hazel helped you pulled out, doing another serve. this time, she was a second late and the ball bounced off her wrist. she made a sound of annoyance and only shook her head with a smile when she sensed that you were about to ask if she was okay.
"i'm fine. let's do it again!"
you nodded and grabbed another ball. she successfully retrieved this serve and the other two that followed until the fourth serve, in which she completely missed. she did a loud 'tsk!' sound out of frustration, wiggling her fingers and bending her knees as she readied herself for the next ball.
"again!"
your palm was sore from hitting the ball again and again. her usual bright blue eyes were much duller and more exhausted compared to the team's training earlier in the evening. hazel was still not satisfied with her receives, torturing herself mentally and physically. you've lost count how many times she dove or rolled to retrieve the ball. her whole body must've been hurting right now.
"hazel," you called out, concern evident in your voice as she went back to position again. "let's take a water break."
"no, i'm fine," she shook her head but suddenly made her way to you with worry in her eyes. "unless you want to take a break? we can definitely take a break." you just nodded and gave her a reassuring smile when she looked at you apologetically.
as you both sat down by the wall and drank your waters, you turned your head at her. her hair was disheveled, sticking to her sweaty skin. there were bruises all over her arms and legs, and a small cut on her right knee. you took a deep breath and asked, "are you alright?"
hazel was surprised and turned to you with wide eyes, gulping as she did so. "you seem... out of it lately," you continued. "is everything alright?"
hazel shook her head and let out a small chuckle. "no no, i'm fine... it's just..." she trailed off, her eyes looking at the floor as she sighed deeply. she then turned to you with sorrow in her eyes. "i can't help but blame myself for what happened during that game."
you knew what she was referring to. it was the last set and huntington was taking the lead with fifteen points while rockbridge was behind by one point. everyone was tired and their stamina was running out. "focus guys! you can do this!" you remembered cheering while silently praying for another deuce during an intense rally. but sometimes, things don't always go in everyone's favor; in hazel's favor.
"i could've gotten that ball," hazel groaned and sighed deeply, leaning her head against the wall and closing her eyes. "if only i moved fast enough... we could've won that game..."
"hey, it's okay," you reassured, putting your hand on her knee and patting it as an attempt to comfort her. hazel's eyes fluttered open and looked into yours. "look, i was also bummed that we didn't win," you paused, trying to find the right words to say as she waited in anticipation. "but it pains me to see you and the other players blame yourselves for something that you can't control. especially when you've played and dived for, like, every set. pretty sure your bodies felt really heavy to move."
hazel nodded as her unnoticeably tense shoulders relaxed. "yeah... i felt like a boulder."
the both of you giggled as you gave her knee one last pat before retracting it. "the good news is, we have more upcoming tournaments so..." you trailed off and playfully smiled at hazel.
"yeah, i'll give them hell," hazel laughed and mocked you with the line that you'd always say before games. "hey!" you laughed as well and crossed your arms, pretending to be offended.
after your laughter died down, hazel stood up and offered you a hand, pulling you up to your feet. "thank you, by the way." you both made your way to court to gather all of the used balls.
"no worries," you replied as you placed the balls back in the ball cart.
"hey," she called out. "after we're done here... do you wanna get some snacks?"
"i'd like that."
waaaaaaa i hope you guys enjoyed this one! and thank you to the people who voted on my poll abt hazel's vball position hehe,, + i apologize if there are any inconsistencies or if there's anything worng with how i described vball,, i only based it on my high school experience with volleyball and haikyuu T_T
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neuroprincess · 8 months
Text
Under The Skin - Rebecca Welton/Reader
Rebecca Welton/Female Reader
Summary: It's secret, away from everyone's eyes and just between them, a simple gesture that symbolically changes Y/N and Rebecca's lives.
Classification: Fluff
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, tattoos
Word count: +1000
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Unrevised
Maybe it's the alcohol coursing through the veins or the gentle smile that is directed at her, but it seems so right that Y/N doesn't care about the pain and even less about tomorrow. The needle begins a little uncertainly on the skin until the woman learns to handle it with real dexterity and without trembling, both of them a little nervous. The first scratch is outlined and marked forever, halfway there. With care, Rebecca traces the half circle in the same way she saw the boys do and feels proud to see it taking shape on the forearm, small and simple, but cute and full of meaning.  
"I'm almost there, darling." she whispers and hums in anticipation, looking a little petty at how excited and proud she is.  
"It's crazy, isn't it?!" the younger stares at her, a moment of sobriety hitting for a second and the weight of the act weighing in the balance "Are we really doing this?"  
In response, Rebecca leans in and brings their lips together in a gentle kiss, taking time to leave them, there's nothing so sweet and addictive as her girlfriend. She could stay like this forever, feeling and loving her in every way, from the soft words to the burning touches.  
"God, better stop or we're not going to finish this any time soon." she laughs, reluctantly separating, and brings eyes together to analyze the next step, just one to complete "And..." turns the pen back on, drawing the last curve, this time a bit of blood comes out of the line "Done!" 
"How did it look?"  
"Beautiful, just like you, sugar." a kiss is placed on the girl's forehead and elegant hands stroke her hair "My good girl, you did great."  
Y/N sighs and smiles happily, the sparkle in the blonde's eye making the slight burning and eventual post-drinking pain worthwhile. She'd never imagined herself doing anything like that and is sure the other one hadn't either, nevertheless after two years here they are hiding in the dark at Jamie's party with the tattoo equipment borrowed, in fact temporarily stolen, exchanging secret wedding vows, marking their rings eternally under skin and exposed to the world.  
"Your turn, sweetheart."  
They change the needles and following instructions from the internet the moisturizer is applied to the arm, Y/N's fingers spreading the cream along strong and delineated muscles, memorizing again every part she knows by heart, the sensitive points she caresses in cuddles on the sofa and squeezes when they're almost reaching an apex. The couple stare at each other for a millisecond in a silent request for permission, to be sure that it's really wanted.  
"Go ahead." Welton encourages, trying to sound confident "I can handle the pain."  
"You will not regret it?" the question is fraught with concern, fear that her partner will regret the folly of a somewhat youthful nature.  
"Never, darling! Loving you is the most certain thing I have in my life." they smile complicitly and Y/N nods, continuing with the mission "We need to go to the pharmacy for ointments, which reminds me that we're also out of cotton and saline solution."  
"You're really drunk."  
"Drunk with love for you..."  
It's not exactly pain, maybe discomfort or something, but totally bearable... if it weren't for Rebecca's hidden fear of needles. She tries to disguise it by looking away, convincing herself that it's only to be surprised. Quickly and with calculated movements, a small initial in a fine line forms on the place, she still can't turn around, half paralyzed in disbelief, having her own moment of sobriety caused by shock.  
"You don't have to hide, it's okay to be afraid." the younger whispers, trying to confront her in some way, the worst part is over and the woman insists on keeping up her brave mask "Sweetheart..."  
"Is it over?"  
"Yes, it's over." she smiles and stretches up to place a kiss on the flushed cheeks "My good girl."
"Hey, that's my phrase!"  
"That doesn't mean you're not a good girl, and totally mine."  
Finally gathering courage, Rebecca looks down and almost chokes as she realizes that something really is there, engraved on her forever. The initial of Y/N's name on her and hers on Y/N. Eternally marked in a symbolic gesture, the union of their souls with homemade tattoos, sounded almost silly when the idea came up on the bar counter, but is the promise of their love for each other.  
"So we..."  
"We're married. My goodness, we're married!"   
"It's symbolic, but..." the blonde rambles, settling on the floor so that they're face to face "Soon I'm going to put a ring on your finger, give you my surname."  
"Try to imagine, Mrs. & Mrs. Welton."  
"I like the sound of that, I can't wait for this moment." 
"Me too, I'm really looking forward to it." Y/N whispers and closes the space between them with a passionate kiss, full of emotions that come through in every touch, barely able to contain the enthusiasm. She has married the person she most admires and as much as it was just between them, it's priceless, kind of magical "I love you! So much that I almost cry just thinking that we're wives now." manages to say when the air is needed. 
"I love you more! More than anything, I don't think there are enough words to describe how deeply and passionately. And I stole a champagne to celebrate."   
A bottle is taken from the handbag, chilled to the point of sweat. It's impossible not to be touched by the businesswoman's cheeky smile, who has had a lot of fun searching for the necessary items around the mansion, committing innocent little crimes for the sake of love and getting her first tattoo. All this with and for her girlfriend, engaged for half an hour and now wife.  
"We've probably got about 15 minutes before someone comes looking for us, what do you think?" Rebecca nods suggestively towards the immaculate king-size bed.  
"Oh, you want to go straight to the nuptials? Tempting."  
"No more tempting than the things I'm thinking of doing with you when we get back home, lovely wife."  
And that's another promise. 
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purebarnes · 1 year
Text
THIN ICE MISTER
bucky barnes x wife!reader
description: bucky and sam break your favorite lamp and candle when left alone with your guys 3 year old daughter, world of chaos
w/c: 3.1k
disclaimers: none… beside bucky and sam being left alone with a toddler, conversation about sex
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You were this anxious and honestly not much made you nervous but that changed pretty quickly when you decided to leave your husband with your little girl. Not that Bucky was a bad father- that was far from it, he was a fantastic father to your sweet girl. He would coddle her when she would get upset, help her with any issues she would have with other toddlers not that he could do much but still.
The only issue that you found was that whenever he was Sam, that’s when it became catastrophic with those two. Now was a prime example of what was about to endure.. you currently had to leave to go do errands with Carol and Natasha while also meet Tony for a new mission that was months away but Tony insisted on getting on that.
You thought of taking Rebecca with you as the two men were probably going to make a mess in the house but Bucky kept telling you it would be fine.
You finally decided to trust your husband and his best friend and we’re hoping you made the right choice as he tried to push you out of your daughters bedroom.
“Wait. I need a goodbye kiss.” You reminded him to which he chuckled and went to lean in to you when you shoved his face away. He stumbled back while standing dumbfounded at you rejecting his kiss when you scrunched your eyes brows in confusion.
“Not you. From my sweet baby.” You hushed looking at the sweet little thing you and Bucky created to which she was letting out soft snores admiring her little curls resting on top of her forehead.
Leaning down to press a soft kiss leaving the excess of your chapstick, you looked up to a pouty Bucky to which you found hilarious. You faced him and took the chance to grab his face right in your hands as they were the perfect size to hold him.
You gave him a small grin, capturing his lip into yours and moving it in sync when he reached down the lower part of you ass and as he went to slightly squeeze it you gripped his hands that were were wrapped around his neck for support to stop him.
That meant you needed to stop before it became too much fun for him, you slapped his chest playfully but sternly as your daughter was still sleeping not even two feet away. He hissed in annoyance, “She is sleeping! Keep it in your pants.”
To that he scoffed because he looked back at his daughter sleeping and turned back to you. “Me? You obviously couldn’t keep it in, exhibit A.” Pointing directly at the brunette who was stirring around in her sleep before turning around to her side before falling back asleep.
Both of you leaving Rebecca’s room, heading downstairs to a familiar face opening the back door of your house. Sam shut the door softly not wanting to make any noise to disturb his favorite Barnes in her slumber.
Sam finally met your gaze and smirked calling your name, “Don’t ruin my house Samuel.” You playfully warned but actually not wanting to come back home with a mess or worse… actually nothing is worse then a mess (in your eyes).”
Reaching to grab your keys from the hooks on the wall you snatched them and grabbed your water while waving buy to the men and out the door.
Sam and Bucky were currently working on a gazebo. You distinctly remember looking at your iPad one night when Rebecca finally decided to sleep in her own room that night. Not that you would kick her out or anything, she just decided she didn’t need to sleep in her parents bed.
The idea of a gazebo came when you saw a beautiful gazebo when you went on a walk when you were half way through your pregnancy. Bucky saw how much you admired gazebos and it would be a great for when you all have guests from you avengers family.
You asked if Bucky could make a gazebo since it wouldn’t take long, maybe you shouldn’t be saying anything because you never built anything for that matter. 
“Alright Buck. I got all the wood… well almost all and all tools are in here.” He spoke tapping at his tool box when he walked over to show Bucky the idea of the gazebo hoping you would approve.
You had a fairly big backyard so the gazebo would look beautiful in the back with Rebecca’s playground next to it.
Sam pointed at all of the perimeters he needed to do before starting, stepping back inside he heard the voices of his daughter talking through the monitor from the kitchen that was connected to her bedroom.
Hear faint cries from the little toddler, “Dada.” She whimpered hoping someone would go in her room at any second. She wasn’t usually like that in the mornings but recently she started to get clingier and have more outbursts than usual.
Bucky pouted at his baby’s voice calling for him and went straight to the direction of her voice. Opening the brown wooden door, she stopped taking out loud when she saw her father in the flesh. “Oh, sweetheart.”
Rebecca stood up from her bed that had was gated (so she wouldn’t escape) and lifted her arms up signaling she wanted to be in his arms. He obeyed her and swooped her into his arms kissing her right cheek repeatedly leaving loud ‘mwahs’ making soft giggles escape her from his little hairs.
“Daddy stop it!” She gasped when he stopped to give her a second to breathe, smiling at her father she stopped laughing as Bucky put her down. “Alright. Let’s go downstairs because you need to eat breakfast and also someone is here. It’s a surprise though.” She widened her light light blue eyes. “Is it Mommy?” Excited to see her mother.
He frowned, “No, baby. Mama is working but she’ll be home soon.” He promised her but then kneeled down to her level, “it may be Uncle Sam.” He teased when she squealed while jumping up and down right in his ear. “Oh! Okay, Bec.” Covering his ear to where the damage was done.
Walking down the stairs with her dad- more like running down the stairs even though it was dangerous and she knew never to run down. But Rebecca was to excited, nearly knocking down her Götz dolls that she had in front of the stairs.
Bucky groaned when he saw the whole dolls that were given to Rebecca by Natasha when she was in a mission in Germany with Steve and Wanda. 5 minutes after they successfully finished it, a store was getting robbed that sold dolls so Natasha looked around carefully before snatching a doll that kinda resembled Rebecca.
Of course Steve had a problem with it but Natasha did not care at all because she technically did not think it was wrong because it was already on the outside of the store.
You were quite upset at first because you never wanted Rebecca to receive things that were stolen. That simple.
From that moment Rebecca loved those dolls because they all were designed to look like her aunts and the women she most admired. “Becca, I asked you yesterday to pick up those.” His daughter kept running until she crashed in a familiar body figure, she grunted softly.
Sam let out a heartily chuckle, grabbing her little waist and holding her up to hold her by his waist and wrapping his other arm to support her back so she didn’t fall. “Well good morning sunshine!” He yelped tickling her side when she gasped at the touch that she was enduring.
“Uncle Sam.” She grunted holding his hand to stop him from tickling her and he stopped seeing her not laughing- “Daddy already gave tickles.” She pouted, Sam solemnly nodded to show that he understood like she was only allowed a specific number of tickles per day.
She was quite dramatic like her dad, you’d definitely say that she got that from Bucky and not you because you could never admit you were dramatic. Bucky rolled his eyes at his toddler and grabbed her breakfast plate to which she denied swatting it away when it almost fell before bucky caught it.
“Oh, no. Rebecca that’s not what we do, it is time to eat.” Bucky sternly spoke not wanting to have a thing with his daughter while his best friend was watching. “No! Not hungry.” She yelled clutching onto Sam’s forearm to which he nervously laughed off.
“Hey, hey. It’s alright, I’ll sit with you.” She sulked down, running her back so she was reassured that he would leave her side. Rebecca got placed in a chair as Bucky placed her plate down locking eyes with her to which she looked down feeling guilty at getting upset with her father.
“Thank you Daddy.” She thanked grabbing her water cup from the table and took a big sip before devouring into her breakfast.
Leaving the meeting with some avengers that you were working on the mission with- you tried so hard to not look at your phone to call your husband. You were doing so good, until Carol mentioned on who was watching Rebecca. “Bucky. With Sam…” you whispered softly.
Carol gave you deadpanned look seeing if you were serious or if you were just messing with her, “Sam? Uh hope you’re house is there when you get back.” She laughed when Nat smacked her shoulder, you started to grow anxious.
You snatched you phone from your bag, Natasha stopped you while glaring back to Carol who didn’t understand at all. “Stop that. Carol tell her you were just joking.” She demanded.
“What, no. Ow!-” Carol rubbed the spot where Nat pinched her, “I’m joking. I’m sorry, they have got it. You trust your husband, right?” It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him or Sam but you did get paranoid.
“I do. Just them together is just you know.” The women nodded as Carol paused, “What trouble could they cause?”
Back home, Bucky and Sam got as much as they could so they decided to wait to do something until they got bored. Rebecca was playing with a ball until Sam perked up. “Bucky. 20 bucks you can’t know over those pins with one hit.”
Bucky looked over to see toy bowling pins stacked on the floor, Bucky scoffed grabbing the ball Rebecca was playing with right as she grunted. “Relax, Bec. Daddy will give it back once he wins that $20.”
He backed up from his position and narrowly examined his spot- he stepped back and brought the ball back and threw the ball. But the ball ended up not going anywhere near the pins because all that was heard was a loud breaking sound with flowers on your newly white carpet and your favorite candle completely broken.
Sam gaped as Bucky cursed, “Shit!” He yelled walking over to see the mess he made when Rebecca smiled widely- “Shit!” She giggled running towards her father who winced at his faulty mistake.
“Whoa, no! We don’t say that.” To that Rebecca kept saying shit, shit, shit! Sam ran to grab a garbage bag so he could throw away the glass and flowers when Bucky swatted his hand away. “Are you crazy? She loves those, I’m dead.”
“Uh, well at least it’s you and not me.”
“This is your fault.” Bucky yelled.
“Mine?” Sam spat back.
“Yeah, you just had to bet me to do it- You could backed out, she will kill me but not if I’m not here.” Sam shrieked getting up when Bucky grabbed him by his metal arm making sure he stayed in place. “No way.”
Sam grunted, twisting his grip away from Bucky’s hard grasp. He huffed dumping all the remains of the incident, a little while later Sam vacuumed up all the dirt as Bucky sat Rebecca down on the long sofa and turned the TV so she could watch a movie.
Hearing the bag getting thrown away in the trash can outside, Bucky really was hoping that you would have noticed it because although people thought of him as a very gruffly person., he was more scared of his wife then anything else.
When Sam came back pausing the movie that Rebecca was watching, the three of them looked at the door as it was getting opened to you, Natasha and Carol. Your daughter gasped seeing them three, “Mommy!” You stopped in your tracks, opening your arms widely for her to engulf you in a tight hug.
Rebecca giggled those sweet songs that came out of her mouth when her mother brought her up and gave her a mouth kiss, “Mwah!”
“I missed my sweet girl! How was today?” You asked more Bucky and Sam but of course she answered for them, “so fun, daddy-”
Bucky covered her mouth quickly before she could spill anything to you as you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Sam chuckled awkwardly looking at Nat and Carol who glanced at each other, “Yup, so much fun.”
“Well great, nothing looks—” you paused.
You had quite a keen eye for things in anything but you noticed the center table that was holding your favorite candle and lamp were missing. You hummed poking your tongue in the inside of your mouth.
Bucky and Sam stay quiet not saying anything as you were catching on, “Where’s my candle and vase of flowers?” You asked walking near the center table to no candle or Flowers.
Natasha cackled, “Ah, this is gonna be hilarious.” She spoke patting Bucky’s back as he glared ahead to her when she sat down on the couch with Rebecca as she latched onto her, missing her even though she saw her a couple days ago.
“What.. what vase?” He trailed along hoping you wouldn’t hear the nervousness in his tone to which you caught on- “Yeah, are you sure there was even a candle.. cause.” He gulped.
You sighed lowly “What did you do?” He carefully walked to you but keeping a safe space between, “I didn’t do anything.”
You rolled your eyes getting pretty annoyed at your husband when you asked Sam what he did but he also didn’t answer you- you looked at Rebecca who was was being cuddled by Nat and Carol. She perked up, “Daddy broke the lamp and candle!” She obviously didn’t know what she was doing or that she totally made a ditch for her fall into.
You turned muttering something low that only you could hear, you shook your head in disbelief at the two adult men. “Whatever. Let’s go eat.” To that Nat, Carol, Rebecca and you all walked into the kitchen with the takeout bags you guys ordered for dinner.
You weren’t mad or anything but you decided to milk it little bit longer so Bucky could sweat to try to gain your ‘trust’ again. He never lost it but it was funny to see him that that, you sitting on the opposite side of him to which bothered him a lot.
As dinner was over and you all chatted up about future missions and other rookie co workers, you pa led up the lest overs for Carol, Natasha and Sam who took the most boxes (which you insisted because the girls wouldn’t budge)
The girls kissing Rebecca goodbye and waving to Bucky while he was holding Rebecca because she asked to be held by her father squishing her check on his chest. Sam stood by Bucky’s side, “Good luck. Bye sweet girl.” Kissing her forehead goodbye and giving you a side hug.
Shutting the door when you walked back up to Bucky stretching out your arms for Rebecca as Bucky intervened, “I can- I got it.” He sighed watching bother girls leave the kitchen as he went to clean the kitchen from the mess you all made.
Reaching Rebecca’s room you turned on her lights and started on her night routine as she was in the middle of being potty trained you guys did nighttime pull ups for when she went to bed.
Taking out her pajamas- a pink sloth matching set that you bought one day when you two went on a target shopping day when Bucky was away on a mission. Pulling the pajamas over her head you took a brush and combed the hair in her front face.
Rebecca hummed.
You looked up at her direction, “Momma? Are you mad at daddy?” She frowned at that’s thought of her parents fighting and even worse them fighting because of her. “Bec honey no. I’m not mad at anyone.” You reassured kissing her forehead making sure she knew that nothing was going to happen.
She took that so reassuring that she ran to her bed and stood on her tippy toes to reach the bed. You swooped her up and placed her in the bed, grabbing her covers and covering her.
One last kiss was placed on her cheek and forehead, “Sweet dreams, my baby.” She hummed in satisfaction snuggling in her bed letting her go off into dream land.
Walking back to your shared bedroom with Bucky, you saw him already with his shirt off and boxers on and you avoided to look at his mesmerizing body. You went over to his side of the bed which was where the dresser was and grabbed a pair of pjs also.
When you got back from the bathroom, you plopped down on your side and let out a exaggerated whine. Bucky kept quiet not knowing you wanted him to say anything or not, “Really? You’re not gonna say anything?” You asked.
“I thought you were mad still.” He mentioned.
“I wasn’t even mad Buck. Just annoyed slightly.” Holding up your thumb and pointer finger showing the slightest gap when he finally let out a moment of relief that you weren’t even upset with him.
Being completely honest- you had some stress that you needed to relief and so that’s where your husband came into play. You wouldn’t tend to ask him to help you out but you were aching, you snatched his phone away and placed it on the desk next you.
It took him a few seconds to comprehend what you were asking until he waited for you to do something. “Is she asleep?” He sheepishly wondered.
“You’d think I would make you have sex with me if she wasn’t asleep.” Bucky shrugged leaning in before you heard a sound come from the monitor and it was your daughter who was in fact not sleeping. She was muttering something, you grabbed the monitor and heard her more clearly.
“Shit.” Rebecca Barnes spoke very clearly when you turned your head to the man that could only be responsible. Bucky chuckled softly when you turned on the speak button: “Rebecca Barnes. Do not say that word. Who said that word?”
“I’m going. You want me to suffer huh,” he grunted putting on his shorts that you took from the drawer and walked out the door to his daughter bedroom.
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its-time-to-write · 1 year
Note
perhaps some angst?? reader and jamie break up but fluff at the end because he wins her back 🥹
I’m sorry this took me so long 😭 Not always the best at writing angst. Thanks for requesting!
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can’t really say i’m enjoying it now
“What the fuck, Jamie,” you say. “What the actual fuck.”
You’re in Richmond’s boot room after training. You’d been upstairs with Rebecca which is a bit of why you’re even in this mess. 
After all, she’s the one who told you he’d changed.
She’s the one who told him to just go for it.
She’s the one who showed you the interview clip.
You might be on the offensive, but Jamie’s on the defensive.
“I don’t get why you’re so fuckin upset, babe,” he shrugs, attempting nonchalance. His eyes, however, are just as fiery as yours. “It’s not that big a deal.”
“Not that big-not that big a deal? Then what is a big deal, Jamie? And don’t ‘babe’ me, you are in absolutely no place to pull that shit after that shit you pulled.”
In another circumstance, that turn of phrase would have made Jamie laugh. Would have made him comment on your command of the English language.
Would have made him kiss you.
Now however, he just throws his hands in the air and says, “It was just an interview. Those are things you say in an interview. ‘Case you forgot, I’m a fucking famous footballer.”
“How can I forget?” you shoot back, arms crossed, “it’s all you ever fucking talk about.”
“At least I’m not a self-absorbed grad student who thinks she’s all that because she ‘makes her own money,’ and ‘has a real job.’” Here Jamie mocks your voice, high pitched and whiny.
All you can see is red. “Damnit Jamie, that is a far cry from telling the entire world about how grateful I am that you decided to date me, and then bragging about how fucking out-of-my-league you are. I’m not some goddamn charity case! And then you had the audacity to make jokes about our private life on live television. Live television, Jamie. Do you know how many people saw that? And are going to see that? It’s not just a joke about yourself anymore. It involves me too.” 
Jamie looks at you, eyes narrowed. He knows he should back down, but he won’t. It’s not in his nature to surrender a fight. “It’s not like anyone’s going to fuckin care, anyway. You’re not even famous, so who gives a shit?”
That catches you off guard. You weren’t famous, that was true, but there were a few more results in a google search of your name these days. Because of Jamie. Some were kind, some were not. 
You knew you had been prickly about it, because you wanted people to know you for you, not as some footballer’s girlfriend. You wanted to be known for your graduate research, for helping people, for something that mattered. 
You had been lashing out as a result, flexing your presumed intelligence in a less-than-graceful manner.
You had seen Jamie bottle up every retort, but now it was all coming out.
He was wrong, but so were you. You know you should back down, but you won’t. It’s not in your nature.
You whisper, “I give a shit, Jamie Tartt. I do. It’s my name but it doesn’t even belong to me anymore. It’s always tied to yours and I can’t get it back.”
You glare at each other in silent anger. The air feels so thick that you could reach out and put a piece in your pocket. There are hot, angry tears in your eyes, and Jamie’s face is red, eyebrows knit together. Your arms are in fists at your sides, and Jamie’s are tightly crossed. Each of you sending the message, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.
Finally Jamie speaks up. “You want your fucking name back?” he asks, far too calmly. “You can have it. We’re done.”
For a moment, all you can hear is roaring in your ears. Then- “Fuck you. Fine. You think I’m a self-righteous bitch? At least I know who I am, and I’m working on it instead of pretending to be something I’m not. Have a nice life, Jamie,” you reply, icy voice cooling the fire in your veins. You turn sharply on your heel and walk out of the boot room. You don’t slam the door. You won’t give him the satisfaction.
Jamie kicks a bench and lets out a single, “Fuck!”
That was three months ago. You booked the first flight you could find back to your parents’ house before you even told them you were coming home for a visit. They were overjoyed to have you, despite the circumstances of your return. 
You managed to keep it together right until the moment you saw your dad’s face at baggage claim, and then you felt everything fall apart. He hugged you as though it was the only thing keeping you from shattering into a million pieces, and you just sobbed.
You spend a month on their couch, slogging through schoolwork and binge-watching tv. Your mom walks with you every morning, claiming she needs someone to keep her from cutting corners. In reality, the fresh air is good for you. She lets you walk in silence, and squeezes your hand the exact moment before a tear falls from your eye.
“He’s just a young man,” she says, “They do dumb things. He’ll learn. I’m sorry he had to learn through you, but you won’t feel this way forever.” 
You tell her once this feels like taking his side. She laughs and says, “Having grace for someone is not the same as taking their side. And anyway, which one of you have I let live in my house for the past three weeks?”
Your dad is less forgiving. You hear your mom talking him out of buying a plane ticket to London. “Violence is not the answer for this,” she says.
You can’t hear your dad’s reply, but it’s something along the lines of “Just wanted to talk to him.”
Your mom laughs. Your dad is downright frightening when he wants to be, violence or no. You catch a snip of “Poor boy, his father- can’t be expected- not excusing-” before you put in some earbuds and slip off to sleep.
Your mom is on your side. She just has the unnerving tendency to understand both sides of an argument. You’re grateful that she doesn’t make any snide comments about Jamie like your sister does, because there’s a part of you that just hurts because that part still loves him, and it feels like slander on his name is slander on yours. 
You try not to note that your name is still inextricably intertwined with his.
— 
Back in Richmond, Jamie is throwing himself fully into football. He doesn’t talk or joke so much anymore, just silently goes through training. He plays better, if anything. He kicks the ball with such precision during matches that the game is won if he’s even remotely near the goal. He is vicious, unforgiving, vengeful toward himself. The team leaves him alone, except Roy and Ted.
Roy still takes him for training every morning and Ted comes over to Jamie’s house with lunch every weekend.
Jamie is still silent.
You spend the next two months in Richmond, trying to make new memories in the places that only remind you of Jamie. It’s almost impossible, because all you can think about is his smile, and how his sharp canines glinted in the light. How his hands would catch your waist and thumbs would draw circles on your hipbones. How he could bring you to tears of laughter in a single sentence or well-timed look.
You’re almost at a point of forgiveness when you see a tabloid. You don’t even register the picture because all you can focus on is the bolded name in the headline. It’s Jamie’s name.
You’re sure it’s about some girl he’s with, because what else would be in a tabloid? You roll your eyes and scoff. Typical. Leave it to him to bounce back. You suppose long-term relationships mean nothing to him.
After that, you stay in your flat. You only leave during times you know are impossible to bump into him. 
Things start to get better. If Jamie’s moved on, so can you. You begin going on runs again. You stop by Mae’s now and again to chat with the regulars. She slips you free chips with a wink and a pat on the hand.
You still think about Jamie. He’s on your mind and you wonder if you’re on his. You remember the tabloid and shake your head.
You’re one semester away from graduating, and your research has started to mean something. You google your name once and see your name in a singular footnote in a research paper you helped write. It’s the first result. You smile. 
You are so close to having your first Jamie-free day. He hasn’t been the first thing on your mind for two days. You don’t have that feeling of falling, or of guilt. It is a beautiful Thursday morning, so you get up, put on your jogging clothes, then head out the door for a run. It’s a little cloudy but you swear that’s the best weather to exercise in. Less sweaty. You are three months out from your breakup and you are beginning to feel joy again. You turn a corner, thinking about a nice coffee, when you ram straight into something warm and solid. You lose your balance, but strong arms reach out to catch you.
“Shit, I’m so sorry!” you cry. “I should have looked where I was-”
Words escape you as you look up into the blue eyes of your rescuer. 
“Hi,” he breathes. “I’ve missed you.”
You’re trapped in his gaze for a minute before-
“Ow!”
You’ve stomped on Jamie’s foot. 
“What was that for?” he asks indignantly. 
“Oh I don’t know,” you reply, “maybe for being a complete asshole? It also could be for snogging whatever model you were with in that tabloid? Real stellar move, showing that much remorse. I’m glad it didn’t take long to get over me. Guess the phrase ‘long-term relationship’ means something different to footballers than it does to us little people.”
Jamie opens his mouth, shuts it, then opens it again. 
“Look, you’re right, I’m a fuckin’ arsehole, but what are you talking about? What model?”
You’re a little thrown off by his admission to being an asshole. “What do you mean, ‘what am I talking about?’ I saw your name show up in some headline and you’re only ever in there for some girl, and I get it, it’s fine that you’ve moved on, it just feels really fucking quick.”
Jamie has the audacity to chuckle. “It weren’t about some model. It was about you.”
You go cold. This can’t be happening again. Jamie Tartt, spilling his guts in some sleazy interview, painting you in the worst light.
He sees the look of absolute horror on your face so he hurries on, “Look. You were right. I shouldn’t’ve said what I did. But I did, and I can’t take it back. So I’m doing me best to make it right. It were about a tv interview where they asked about you, and I said we’d broken up. Told them I was a complete prick about everything and I let you slip through my fingers.” For the first time, you take a good look at Jamie’s face. He looks truly awful. Hair floppy (and not in a good way), bloodshot eyes, dark circles. 
He continues, “I know I shouldn’t have been a prick about being famous. It’s just, I get in me fuckin’ head about shit like this. Did the same thing with Keeley. Got scared of something real and knew I’d fuck it up eventually, so I thought I might as well get it over with. And anyway, you’re way out of my league. Figured I might as well let you go before you figured it out. I’ve been- I’ve been getting better. Less dick-like. You can ask anyone, Roy, Coach, whoever. I’m really trying, here. And I know I fucked things between us, and you don’t have to forgive me, but I’m just trying to be better for me and whoever fucking has to put up with me next.” 
You have no words. All you can do is stare at him. You hear your mom’s voice saying, “He’s just a young man. He’ll figure himself out.”
You hear Keeley saying, “he’s grown so much, really, he almost isn’t even the same person anymore.”
You hear Rebecca, as you sat in her office right before Jamie asked you out, telling you, “He’s a shockingly fast learner. Only has to be told something once, and it’s in his head forever. Give him a chance.”
You open your mouth and what comes out is: “I’m sorry too.”
Jamie looks just as shocked that you said that as you are, but you keep going. “My mom talked to me a lot about- about deciding what you can forgive. And I guess, I know I wasn’t blameless. I pushed you away on purpose, and I was aware of every single word that I said that hurt you. She also talked about ‘age-appropriate mistakes.’ She said both you and I made them, and that doesn’t mean I should take you back but that I should at least consider forgiveness. It’s easy to forget that we’re really young, you know? We both have a lot of responsibility, and I forget that it’s ok if we make mistakes. And you being you, your mistakes are more public. I- I needed to figure out if I could deal with it or not. I’m still not sure if I can. I don’t want my life to be on display.”
Jamie nods, expression intent. You take a breath and then continue. “But I guess that I need to figure out which I want more. Privacy, or you. I mean, if that’s even something you want.”
Jamie’s eyes have never left your face. He says, “Always knew I liked your mum,” and then he’s pushing a strand of hair our of your eyes, hesitantly, giving you time to pull away.  
You don’t.
You let him run his fingers through your hair.
You let him kiss you, softly.
You let him back into your life.
I missed you, he had said.
You pull back, smiling. “By the way, I missed you too.”
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Text
The Healer pt 3
The story continues! Hope you guys like it!
Part 1 and 2 linked here.
Enjoy!
_____________________________
The Hero’s party stood with their backs to us, arguing loudly. They obviously didn’t hear Stephanie’s call, and kept their focus on the man in front of them.
“How dare you go back on our deal?!” Jack the Hero snapped, his face twisted with rage. “You have always been our chief supplier!”
Rita the Holy Archer spoke up, flipping her long blond hair over her shoulder as she did so. “Yeah, you never turned us down before!”
The massive and imposing form of Garrett the Giant loomed over the group as he stood by with his arms crossed, nodding in agreement. The fourth and final member, Rebecca the Sorceress, leaned against the Hero, her eyes filled with tears as if everyone in the room had personally wronged her.
Seeing the group together again was… rough, to say the least. I had once considered three of them, Jack, Rita and Garrett,  my closest friends. We had played the game together before the Downfall, spending late nights going on raids and completing quests. They had been the brightest part of a life that had been greatly overshadowed by my parents’ expectations and disapproval. I had valued their friendship, so much so that I was willing to break myself over and over again just to stay by their side. I had lied to myself, that I was just as much a part of the team as they were. That I was valued, even if they didn’t always say so. That I was lucky to have them, given that I had chosen the class I did. I hated myself for my weakness, but refused to leave, too dependent on them to try to break off on my own.   
Until Jack finally betrayed me enough to wake me up to the truth:
They had never been my friends.  
As for Rebecca… my gaze settled on the pitifully crying girl. She was crying when I met her, too.
______________________
“Healer! Help! I have an injured person here!” At Jack’s frantic cry, I forced myself awake and ran out of my house, surprised to see him carrying a young, beautiful woman. Her face was unnaturally pale, her red hair matted with blood, stuck to her forehead. Her clothing was scorched in several areas, making her seem even more pitiful. I paused for a moment, feeling a brief discomfort at the sight of Jack holding her with a tenderness in his eyes I had never seen before.
We were not a couple. He had hinted his interest several times, but we had agreed to wait until the world was more stable before discussing it deeply. I wasn’t sure of my own feelings, having always considered him a good friend, but I knew that in the midst of a life or death battle was probably not the best time to give a real answer. Jack hadn’t been happy with my response, but said he understood. He hadn’t brought it up again, but the sight of his distress for the woman in his arms made me wonder if I had his answer.
Either way, it was no time to work out my feelings on the matter. I pushed away the flash of unease at the two’s closeness and stepped forward to look at the young woman. She flinched away from my gaze, her teary eyes looking up at Jack.
“Don’t bother your friend! I just need a potion and I’ll be fine.”
Jack smiled at her. “Nonsense, you fainted just a minute ago. The Healer may be useless in a fight, but she can do targeted therapy for whatever injuries you have.”
I winced at the word “useless”, a term I was all too used to from my childhood.
“Wait!” Rather than being comforted, this seemed to distress the young man more. She struggled slightly, seeming unable to free herself from Jack’s hold. “I don’t…”
I lost patience, and reached out my hand, putting it on her forehead.
“Scan.”
**The Healer has activated Scan -20MP. Target is not in your party and some information is withheld.
Rebecca the Sorceress
Class –Magic User
Title – Sorceress, Magic Student, Dependent, Poison Master.
Level 56
HP 209/250
MP 280/300
STR ***
DEX ***
INT ***
WIS ***
CHAR ***
Current status: Charm applied + 50 Charisma – 1 hour remaining.
Healing status – mild abrasions to forehead, right elbow, and anterior thigh-  10 sq centimeters total surface area.  First degree burns – dorsum of foot, and right wrist – 5 square centimeters total surface area. Mild poison toxicity – side effects include pallor, diaphoresis and generalized weakness. – 10 minutes remaining. **
I frowned as I read through the information. Jack quickly began asking questions.
“How bad is it, Healer? Will she be all right? You can fix it, right?”
“Some scrapes and mild burns, no worse than a sunburn, just needs her wounds dressed and some ointment for pain and to prevent infection. How did she get poisoned?”
“Poisoned?” He brought her into my house and set her down on my bed. “She wasn’t poisoned, she was protecting a family from bandits.”
I shrugged, getting out supplies and carefully cleaning and dressing her injuries. “The scan says she was poisoned, probably about an hour ago judging by the remaining cooldown. Nothing bad, just something that would make her pale, sweaty and weak.”
Rebecca began crying loudly as I finished bandaging her. Before I could react, Jack pushed me out of the way, leaning over to check on her. I slammed by back into the dresser, groaning with pain as it struck.
“Did she hurt you?!” He asked Rebecca, frowning as he looked over her bandages. 
She blinked back tears, regaining control of herself. “I’m sorry, I was just so worried… The way she said it… it sounds like she’s accusing me of taking poison on purpose!”
I gingerly stood up, rubbing my back where it hit the dresser. “I didn’t mean to imply…”
“Shut up, Healer!” He laid a hand on Rebecca’s head. “Just ignore her. She’s just a burden our team carries around because we happened to know her before the Downfall.”
I closed my eyes at his words, trying to ignore both the physical and emotional pain.
______________________
“Why can’t you help us?!” Rebecca was sobbing, blinking her tear-filled eyes and staring at the man in front of their group. “Don’t you know we’re humanity’s only hope?”
“They’re our only hope?”Alton leaned in, whispering “We’re so doomed.”
Stephanie and I chuckled quietly in response.
The owner of the shop, Winter, stood silently in front of the Hero’s party. He was tall, although still shorter than Garrett the Giant. Somehow his demeanor made him seem to tower over the entire group. His white hair was cropped short, at odds with his younger appearing face, placing him in his late twenties. His eyes were a bright pale blue, his handsome feature marred only by a large scar tracing across his face, only barely missing his right eye. His face was expressionless, almost bored, unchanged by Rebecca’s tears.
“You seem to be having a bit of a misunderstanding.” Winter finally spoke up, his voice quiet and cold. “I never had a deal with YOU.”
“LIAR!” Jack screamed. “You’ve always…”
“I’ve had a deal with your healer.” He raised an eyebrow. “And she’s not with you anymore. So I have no reason to deal with you.”
“The Healer?” Rita laughed, her sharp features and gaze filled with a mocking light. “That useless baggage? Why would you care if she’s with us or not?”
“…” Winter stared at her silently, and seemingly pressured, Rita stepped back, hiding behind Garrett. “Foolish.”
“We’re foolish?” Jack asked, shaken but still angry. “You’re the one who is turning down the opportunity of a lifetime. Just because of some bit…”
SMACK!
Winter backhanded the Hero, sending him down to the floor with a calm expression.
“Close your foul mouth, or I’ll close it for you.”  He raised an eyebrow. “Any questions?”
Stephanie raised her hand. “Where do I sign up to be part of his fan club?” Alton raised his hand as well, nodding.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You never change., Winter”
At my words, Winter turned towards me, his cold blank expression melting into a bright smile.
“Natalie! You’re here!”
“…”
“…”
“…”
Everyone in the room turned to stare at me. I shrunk back slightly. Alton spoke up first, frowning. “Natalie?”
I sighed. “My real name, or more accurately, my name before the Downfall. I don’t like using it anymore.” I don’t like the person who wore that name, nor the people who bestowed it upon me. “Healer is a much more accurate title.”
Alton smiled and shrugged. “Whatever makes you happy, Miss Healer.”
Winter’s smile faded a bit, and he walked forward, stepping on the Hero as he did so, ignoring his grunt of pain.
“Are you okay? I just heard about the price on your head. Did they hurt you?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine. You know that they couldn’t hurt me if they tried.”
“Anyone can get hurt if they get caught off guard, Nat.” He put a hand on my shoulder, staring into my eyes. “You should have left a long time ago. They didn’t deserve your loyalty.”
“Well, she’s got a new team now!” Alton stepped in excitedly.
“Yeah! We’re much better than those creeps!” Stephanie joined in. The two gave each other and me a thumbs up.
Winter stared at them for a while, before sighing. “I told you that you didn’t have to fight with anyone. Yet you still race towards danger at the side of these… people. What has humanity ever done for you?”
I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a soft sigh. “Not everyone is as terrible as you think.”
“That’s rich, considering what state you were in when we first met.” The disappointment in his eyes was clear. I flinched, trying not to think of the circumstances of our first meeting.
“That’s not…”
“STOP IGNORING ME!” Rebecca cried out, fire blazing at her fingertips as she glared at all of us. As we quieted down, she focused her gaze on Winter. “Why are you so obsessed with her? She’s a useless healer! We are the HERO’S PARTY!”
Winter stepped closer, and she shrank into Jack’s side, trying to get away, but froze when Winter’s gaze met hers. “You know nothing, poison witch. A Healer is a noble profession, only meant for the strongest of heart and mind. “
“Y-you…”
“Now get out of my store.” He pointed at the exit, and after a moment of silence, the hero’s party shuffled out. Jack paused at the doorway, looking at me with a serious expression. “My offer is still open. We will attack the forty second gate in 3 days. With or without you.”
And with that, he was gone, and all was quiet.
“What idiots.” Alton sat down on a nearby chair, frustrated. “They’re going to put all of humanity at risk.”
“No more than they deserve.” At Winter’s harsh tone, everyone turned to him again.
“You don’t like humans?” Alton asked.
“Any reason why I should?”
He pointed at me. “Miss Healer is a human.”
“The exception, not the rule.”
I shook my head at his solemn reply. “We came here for supplies. Can you help us?”
“Of course.” He agreed immediately, pulling out a large bag from behind the counter and handing it straight to me. “On the house.”
“You know I’ll never agree to that.” I dropped some custom potions and gold on the table. “You have to stay in business.”
Winter shook his head, but I insisted. “Take it or I go somewhere else for supplies.”
“…Fine.” After a long hesitation, he finally reached out and took the items, carefully arranging them on the shelf on the back wall.
“…” Stephanie and Alton stared silently at the exchange between us.
“I smell drama!” Stephanie whispered loudly.
Alton nodded silently, frowning.
“Speaking of which, PREPARE TO BE AMAZED!” Stephanie stepped forward, dropping the pelts onto the counter. “BEHOLD! I HAVE COMPLETED MY QUEST!”
Winter looked over the wolf furs, nodding silently. “This is what I asked for.” His tone was unimpressed. Stephanie grinned, not intimidated.
“So you’ll pay me this time?”
“This time?” I turned to her. “How many times has he scammed you with fake quests?”
“They aren’t fake!” She defended, clutching the bag of gold he handed her. “He just has high standards.”
“Did you count your payment?”
“… I was about to.” She opened the sac of gold and muttered to herself, before staring accusingly at Winter. “It’s only half!”
“Because you didn’t get the pelts.” He inclined his head towards me. “I know Nat’s work when I see it.”
“I helped, though! I lured them all the way to her!”
“And I bet she asked for half.”
“How did you know?!” She paused. “I was going to give it to her.”
I sighed. “Just pay her the whole amount. Your deal was for the pelts, it doesn’t matter how she got them. If I want the cash, I’ll get it from her.”
“…”
“Besides, she’s my teammate…”
Stephanie jumped in. “AND BEST FRIEND!”
“…In a way it’s paying me.”
“…” He sat a second bag of gold down, which Stephanie snatched up and counted with glee. Winter ignored her, looking at me.
“You’re really doing this again? Trusting humans?”
I shook my head. “I don’t trust anyone.”
“You trust too much… you just pretend like you don’t to comfort yourself.” He thought things over. “Where are you going next?”
Alton joined in. “We’re going to go hunting in the fortieth level forest. Try to get a feel for our fighting style.”
“What about your fourth party member? Your team is incomplete.”
“Maybe we’re just picky?” Alton offered.
Winter stared at us. Stephanie broke first. “Everyone’s too scared to work with Alton, and they think Healer is a burden.”
“…”
“We don’t though! We think she’s awesome.”
Winter finally smiled at that. “Alright then.” He began packing a bag. “I’ll join your team.”
“AWESOME!”
“Is that even possible?”
“You’ll what?!”
Stephanie, Alton and I spoke up at the same time. Winter continued to pack, undisturbed by our shouts.
“You need a fourth teammate, and Nat needs someone to watch her back. It’s a win-win. ”
Alton stared at him. “Why do you think she needs your help?”
Winter didn’t flinch. “She needs it. Needed it since the beginning.”
After studying him a long moment, the dark wizard turned towards me. “It’s your call. I trust your judgement with this.”
I rubbed my forehead, feeling tired. “Why don’t we do a trial before making anything official? Go fight together. See how it goes from there.”
“… You don’t trust me?” Winter asked quietly.
“You’d have to be their teammates as well, fighting to protect humanity. I don’t see why you are volunteering. You’ve never cared before.” Was my equally quiet answer.
After a long moment of consideration, he nodded in agreement. “…Fine. A test mission first.”
“Wait!” Stephanie chimed in. “Can NPCs even join human parties? Aren’t they the ones who give quests?”
Winter placed his packed bag on his back, grabbing a bow and some arrows. “My kind are not a part of the Rules. We follow them, just like you do.”
“So you’re like us?” Alton asked, curious.
“No.” His tone was flat. “I am nothing like you humans. But I can join your party.”
“Great! Let’s go on an adventure!” Stephanie ran towards the door, and shaking my head, I followed her.
“Should be interesting.”
____________________________
The fortieth-floor forest was filled with death. Black twisted trees, grey, dried out grass. Shadows from nothing, movements that didn’t make sense. I stood in place, feeling the constant overwhelming sensation of being watched.
Alton smiled, seeming right at home. “Alright guys, this place is chocked full of undead, perfect for a good fight. We just need to get a sense for how everyone else works, and how to help each other.”
“Sounds good!” Stephanie pulled out her enormous sword and grinned. “I’ll tank!”
“Great. I’ll provide crowd control and protection through magic.” He turned towards Winter, who seemed relaxed despite the evil forest around him. “What about you?”
Winter held up his bow. “I’ll pick off monsters from the back.”
“Great. That just leaves Miss Healer…” He turned towards me. “How would you like to fight?”
His question caught me by surprise. When I fought with the Hero’s party, I had often supported them secretly, standing afar, silently using my healing magic to add further injuries to my teammate’s attacks. It was difficult, making myself appear useless while protecting and attacking at the same time.
But now… I was able to openly and honestly take part with the team.
I smiled. “I want to be in the front.”
Stephanie cheered. “Besties tanks!”
“Sounds like we have a plan.” Alton grinned, looking every inch the evil wizard. “Let’s go.”
It didn’t take long before we ran into a large group of undead. Zombies, skeletons, shadowy creatures with claws and spikes, crawled out between the trees, their eyes glowing red with hunger.
“Kill!” A gravelly voice came out of the large skeleton, staring at me. I walked forward calmly, no weapons in my hands.
Undead didn’t have blood. Didn’t have beating hearts. They needed no oxygen, absorbing their energy from the living. Which limited my options. I would have to go for attacks that caused physical damage.
Stephanie ran forward with a loud cry, swinging her large sword and decapitating the first zombie in her field of vision. Alton chanted, his spells separating the zombies out in smaller groups, hindering their movement and slowing their attacks. I could hear the buzzing of arrows as Winter calmly shot down enemy after enemy.
It was my turn.
I held a scalpel in my hand, the cool metal somewhat comforting against my skin. A group of ten zombies shuffled towards me, trying to shake off the bonds of Alton’s magic.
Wordless incantation was still in cooldown. I would have to speak out loud to activate my spells. I stepped closer to the group
“Amputation.”
**The Healer has cast Amputation x 10. – 1000 MP. **
My magic reached out to each of the zombies, chopping off each of their right legs at the mid-thigh, slicing cleanly through rotting muscle and bone. The zombies groaned in confusion, falling to the ground. I watched them carefully, recognizing they were still dangerous despite their helpless appearance.
This is when Jack or the others would rush in to claim the kill… and then complain about the automatic XP share since my magic contributed to the fight. But now that I don’t have them… what now?
Amputation was a spell that could only be applied to limbs. Small and large incision could cut their throats, but not enough to decapitate them which was what was needed.
A brief feeling of hopelessness rose up within me. The despair that had filled my days as I fought in this strange world beside others who had ridiculed me and belittled me. I chose a worthless class, one that struggles to put down wounded zombies…  
One of the zombies flipped onto its stomach, beginning to pull itself towards me, teeth bared. Simultaneously, a spell and an arrow hit its remaining leg, pinning it into place. Stephanie was still fighting her group of zombies, but seeing me hesitate shouted out: “Go get ‘em!”
They’re encouraging me. The stark contrast of this fight from my past team made me smile. I wanted to live up to the support of this strange new team. I thought of a plan, and I reached out my hand, focusing.
“Craniotomy.”
**The Healer has cast Craniotomy x 10. – 5,000 MP.**
The skulls cracked open, revealing rotting brains. I kept an eye on my numbers, even with my unusually large mana pool, I couldn’t keep spending so recklessly. I chose a smaller spell.
“Cauterization.”
**The Healer has cast Cauterization x 10. – 100MP.**
The tissue shriveled under the heat of the spell and the zombies grew completely still. As I stared down at the carnage, Stephanie killed her last zombie, prompting the end of the battle.
** Stephanie the Lovely Barbarian is credited with 8 zombie monster kills, awarded 600XP and +8 fame. Alton the Great Evil Wizard is credited for the assist and is awarded 200XP and +2 fame. You receive 8XP as a party member.
The Healer is credited with 10 zombie monster kills, awarded 800XP and +10 fame. Alton the Great Evil Wizard, and Winter the Shopkeeper are credited for the assist and awarded 100 XP and +1 fame each. **
“AWESOME!” Stephanie ran over and hugged me, ignoring my grimace as I realized how badly she smelled after close combat with rotting corpses. “We’re the best team ever! Did you see how fast we took out high level zombies?”
“Strong work everyone!” Alton seemed pleased, “A few more fights, and I think we could get a good rhythm going.”
“Here.” Winter held out a mana recovery potion to me. “Those were high level healer spells you cast today. You probably need this.”
After a brief hesitation I took it. “You recognize Healer spells?”
“Of course.” He spoke sincerely, adding. “It’s the greatest achievement one can have, to take such a path. I’m happy to help you.”
“…Thanks.” I drank the potion.
The Healer has used Potion of Mana Recovery, +800MP. 2 remaining in Inventory.
Stephanie stood in front of me, clasping her hands together with a pleading expression. “So… can we keep him? You said we could consider it after a trial!”
Alton and I exchanged glances. I still felt uneasy about having an “NPC” on our team. For all the time I had known Winter, I still did not understand his true motivations. Why was he in this world with us? Why join our team? And the real question that haunted me:
Why did he help me a year ago when he had no incentive to do so?
But the truth was, he was our best option.
I nodded to Alton, who immediately offered his hand to Winter.
“Welcome to the team.”
**Winter the Shopkeeper has accepted your invitation to join your party! He will have access to shared inventory, and his stats will become visible upon medical scan.**
The usual joining party message popped up, along with something unexpected:
** NOTICE - Due to status of new party member, special restrictions will apply to any stat or data sharing.**
Special restrictions? I shook my head. Not helping with my paranoia about trusting him on our team.
Stephanie cheered as I shook his hand after Alton. Finally, once things had calmed down, we all sat down to regroup.
“What next?” Stephanie asked, grabbing jerky from her pack.
I thought over her question. “The Hero’s party is going to attack the gate in 3 days. We should plan to be there.”
“Oh joy, them again.” Stephanie bit angrily into the jerky, as if hurting the people who annoyed her. "I can hardly contain my excitement."
“Fighting monsters, AND making sure the Hero’s party won’t stab us in the back at the same time?” Alton grinned. “Sounds like a party to me!"
I sighed, and grabbed my own food from my bag.
We had 3 days to get ready.
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confused-rat · 2 months
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I think people are losing the plot when it comes to A Place Further than the Universe and whether it’s bad or feminist or w/e.
Let’s be 100% real here, it’s not the worst anime out there. It’s not even that egregious with its fan service compared to other anime currently topping the charts. It’s fine. Genuinely.
The real issue here that some people are missing is that Lily is being hypocritical (AGAIN) with her takes. She made a point to rag on DunMeshi’s bath scene and how it was unnecessary fan service, and didn’t bother to note Universe’s own. She’s speculated wildly about Rebecca Sugar’s own fetishes while completely ignoring the actual genre Universe was created for.
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We don’t have to tear into a show just because Lily likes it. You’re essentially doing to same thing Lily does herself, making an adequate show look nefarious just because of personal grudges. Plus, you’re ostracizing all the people who genuinely liked it before Lily’s review. No bueno.
All this to say, don’t be like Lily. Let people enjoy things. Serious conversations about shows can happen w/o shitting on other people. Don’t be a hypocrite.
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tuesdayisfordancing · 5 months
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The way Keeley instantly jumps to reassure Nate that it’s fine after he kisses her and does not take even a second to react in any other way, followed by the way she tells Roy about it and frames it as “he tried to kiss me” and “thought you should know” and the way she looks at him anxiously even after he says “that must have been awkward” and “thank you for telling me” as if perhaps waiting for something else -
The way she says “Jamie would have been so pissed with reporters poking around our love life” without making any mention of her own privacy being violated -
The way when she finds out it was Rebecca who hired a photographer to take and publish those photos that would have led to her getting ripped apart in the press her first words are about telling Ted what she’s been doing and she never says a word about how Rebecca did that to her! -
Yeah. yeah.
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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year
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➪the one where you and leon return from a mission acting a bit different than before.
Warnings: swearing, urges to kill, mentions of killing, mentions of drugging, mentions of blood, guns, both leon and reader are infected, established relationship, this is just self indulgent tbh, suggestive themes, dark themes, might end up writing a part 2 that will be mainly smut, let me know if you want that
Word Count: 4.1k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
The mission was a success. 
Ashley was returned home safely, as were you and Leon. 
However, there was something…off. 
Your long time friend, Jill, noticed it first. The subtle change in your attitude, the random outbursts, the sudden jolts of energy. She confided in Chris, but he just brushed aside her concerns. 
That was until he, too, began to see a change happening in Leon. His close friend had become even more closed off than normal, and angered easily. Chris couldn’t even trust the man to have a simple conversation without accidentally saying something that will set the blond off. 
The pair didn’t know what to do with the two of you. Leon was aggressive with everyone except for you, his girlfriend of four years, while you were annoyed with everyone except him. You were closer than ever, and spent more time together than with anyone else. 
Rebecca, of course, noticed the problem before anyone else did. 
The more time you two spent with each other, the more feral you became with everyone else. If she didn’t know any better, she’d assume the two of you were planning to kill everyone on the team and run off together. 
She came to the conclusion that you two needed to be separated. And quickly. 
Rebecca knew that would be a close to impossible task, as you were borderline inseparable before the mission, and now that you were home you were even closer. Whatever you endured while you were away was clearly still affecting the both of you, and she made it her goal to get to the bottom of it. 
With Jill fully on board and wanting to see you return back to your normal self, she had no problem following Rebecca’s orders of getting you away from Leon so she could quarantine you. 
Jill gave you the impression that you two would be having a girls day, one filled with shopping, eating at some fancy restaurant and then finishing it off with a movie. 
You couldn’t be blamed for being skeptical about her true intentions when she stopped by the lab, mumbling something about needing to pick up a folder for her next mission she was due for in a few days. 
You had been on edge around everyone ever since you returned home, so Jill knew she had to be careful and convincing with her words. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she opened her car door. “I think Rebecca is in today, so I might chat with her for a bit. You can come in if you want, then we can go after.”
Squinting your eyes at her, you just nod and open your own door before following her into the building. She led you down various hallways and ignored the way you eyed everything around you with a cold expression, clearly sensing something was up as she guided you towards yet another hallway. “What exactly are you supposed to be picking up? Seems like an awfully long journey for whatever is in that file,”
Jill couldn’t blame you for asking questions as she was sure she’d do the same thing if she was in your position. She glanced back at you and tried to ignore the black veins peeking out from the collar of your shirt, one of many places on your body that gave away the very real fact that something was seriously wrong with you. “Just some notes and other important information that I will need to go over before setting out,” she answered as best as she could, hating the fact that she had to lie to you. 
In all honesty, Jill was surprised she was able to get you away from Leon. She had to put on her best begging face as she pleaded with you to spend the day with her instead of your boyfriend, something you reluctantly agreed to after she told you about her upcoming mission. 
Your acceptance of the invitation gave her a sense of hope that there was still a piece of the real you somewhere inside the cold, hard exterior of the person who came back from Spain. 
“Oh, that reminds me,” she said suddenly, making you almost bump into her when she stopped in the middle of the hallway next to a door. “I wanted to show you this before I left.”
She opened the door and you peered into the room, not making any move to enter it. “What is it?”
“Just something we’ve been working on,” Jill waved off your suspicion and walked further into the room, hoping she wasn’t coming off as a possible threat as she waved you over to her. “Come on.”
“Who is ‘we’?” You ask as you cautiously step into the room.
“Chris, Rebecca and I,” she answered as she waited for you to walk into the middle of the room before flicking on the light switch. 
The room lit up and revealed a large glass box, one big enough for at least ten people to fit comfortably in. To Jill’s relief you didn’t seem to be alarmed by the box, but curious. She watched you move closer to it and anxiously began trailing you, hating what she had to do next. “What is this for?” You ask as you pull open the glass door to further inspect it. 
It was now or never. Jill would surely break any trust you had for her with her next actions, but if it meant saving you, then so be it. “I’m sorry,” was all she said before giving you a swift shove. 
You stumbled forward and landed on your hands and knees inside the box, your eyes widening when you heard the door slam shut behind you. You had failed to notice the lack of doorknob on the inside of the glass and stood up quickly at the realization that you were trapped. “What the hell,” you mutter as you turn to face her, your eyes glazing over with a look of pure hatred. 
Jill cowered away as she broke eye contact, not used to seeing you look at her that way. “It’s for your own good,” she tried to defend herself but knew it was no use as you stepped towards the glass. “You need help. Both of you do.”
You laughed at that, the sound making her wince as it didn’t even sound like you. “Both of us?” You asked as you raised your hand and placed it against the glass. “Just wait until Leon realizes what you’ve done. He won’t go easy on you, even if you two are friends. He’ll be relentless. Do you know what you just got yourself into?”
Jill lifted her head and stood her ground, hiding how nervous your threat made her. She knew Leon would find out, and she was counting on Chris to keep him occupied for as long as possible, just until Rebecca arrived to run some tests on you. She was glad you had failed to notice the lack of cars in the parking lot, seeing as Rebecca had to prepare some stuff before she would be on her way. It would have been over before it even started had you clued in to that detail.
The old you would have figured that out as soon as you arrived, and Jill’s heart broke a bit more at the realization that you were slipping further and further away from who you used to be. 
“It’s for your own good,” she repeated, sounding much stronger this time around.
That clearly didn’t please you as you folded your hand into a fist and lightly slammed it against the glass. “Come on, Jill,” your voice was suddenly a lot more friendly and for a second you sounded like the real you. “Let me out, please? We can talk about this like normal people. I’ll let you and your friend run any test you want if you let me out now. Don’t lock me up like this, it’s inhuman.”
Jill knew better than to trust your words. She met your pleading eyes and knew that it wasn’t really you talking, so she just shook her head and took a step back. “I’m sorry,” she said and watched as your face went from calm to furious, your brows furrowing and your eyes hardening once again. 
“Damn it, Jill, let me out! Now,” you slammed your fist harder against the glass and Jill visibly jumped at the impact. She swallowed harshly and turned away from you, only further fueling your rage as you glared at her retreating form. “Jill! Let me out! You can’t keep me in here! Leon will find out and he’ll fucking kill you. All of you.”
Jill tried her best to ignore that. She knew Leon would soon be out looking for you and would most likely track you down by your phone. She was glad she managed to grab it from you when she shoved you to the floor. 
She left the room and closed the door, the sound of your yells now being muffled as she walked down the hallway, slamming your phone onto the concrete floor as she did so and breaking it into many pieces.
-
Leon knew something was wrong. He could sense it. 
He hadn’t heard from you in a while, and that alone had alarms going off in his head. 
He had long since grown suspicious of Chris, who sat across from him on the chair in the living room of your shared house. Chris couldn’t help but notice the lack of movement in the house. It looked almost as if you weren’t even living in it, with the kitchen being pristine and well kept, and the living room looking spotless. After knowing Leon for many years, he grew to learn that the man wasn’t the cleanest person, so to see his house looking untouched was only adding to his list of concerns. 
What the hell had you two been doing in here since returning home? Neither of you looked like you had been eating well, nor sleeping very much, if the dark circles under your eyes were anything to go by. 
Chris had never felt so on edge in his whole life as he sat across from his close friend. He gripped the whiskey glass in both hands as he spared a look at the blond, who held his own glass in one hand as he traced the rim of it with his upper lip. 
In all the years he’s known Leon, Chris has never seen him like this. The air was so tense and uninviting, but he knew he needed to get him talking if he wanted to prolong this as much as possible. He could only hope that Jill was keeping up with her end of the deal. 
“So, Leon,” he began, his eyes narrowing at the black veins that ran up his friend’s arms. “You’ve been home for a couple weeks now and I feel like I’ve barely seen you at all. You and Y/n seem to be spending every waking minute together.” He ended it with a laugh he hoped didn’t sound too forced, but he was beyond uncomfortable at the sight of the markings underneath Leon’s skin.
Blue eyes met his as Leon lifted his head up and pressed the rim of the glass against his cheek, the bitter whiskey long gone as he downed it in one go. “We’re together, Chris,” he answered an unasked question and kept his gaze hard, unwilling to delve into this conversation any further. “That’s what couples do, they spend time together.”
Chris should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to get Leon to break, at least not right away. He was a closed off guy before, and beyond protective when it came down to you. It seemed that only intensified since returning from Spain, and he knew better than to keep pressing him about you. 
“I know, trust me, man, I know,” the brunet laughs uncomfortably in an attempt to lighten the dark mood. He needed to come off as trusting and make sure he didn’t give off any indication of being a possible threat. Whatever Jill was doing with you, he was sure she was having a much easier time in getting you to cooperate, as getting Leon to open up was damn near impossible. 
A few minutes of silence goes by before Chris empties his glass and sets it down on the coffee table. He leans back against the chair and gives his friend a casual smile as he tries to make it seem like this was just a usual guys night. 
“But I mean, fuck, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two are closer than before,” he laughed again and hid the way his shoulders tensed up when Leon just stared at him, unmoving. “What, are the two of you planning a mass killing spree we don’t know about?”
At his attempted joke, Leon broke eye contact and set his own glass down before leaning over and resting his forearms on his knees. “Something like that,” he muttered, though his tone held the smallest bit of humor.
It was a start, Chris thought, and he knew he had to continue to slowly but surely coax more information out of the suspicious blond if he wanted to figure out what the hell was going on with him. 
“But, really,” he continued and leaned further against the chair, wanting to come off as casual as he possibly could. “Tell me about Spain. What exactly happened there?”
Leon raised a brow as he looked up at Chris, his face emotionless as he asked, “Didn’t you read the report?”
Shaking his head, Chris ran a hand down the side of his face, acting like he was beginning to feel tipsy. “No, man,” he replied. “Not yet.”
Another round of silence passed before Leon spoke up again, “It was like any other mission,” he started and missed the way Chris sat up straight as he listened to whatever information he was about to be given. “Y/n and I got there and the place had gone to hell. Some of the locals had been infected with something that caused them to go feral. It wasn’t until later when Y/n and I-”
He cut himself off when he said your name and his whole body tensed up.
No, Chris mentally said to himself. He was so close to getting Leon to tell him what happened, why did he suddenly stop when he mentioned you? “It wasn’t until later when you…what?” He pressed, leaning forward as if that would break the trance Leon had fallen into. 
“It wasn’t until later when Y/n and I found out that-” he started again but paused once more. “Y/n.” He said your name again and noticed the way Chris shifted uncomfortably.
Chris felt his heart skip a beat when his eyes met Leon’s, who looked like he was ready to kill him right at that very moment. There was no way he had already caught onto what was happening, right? 
Wrong.
Leon stood up and glared down at Chris, his jaw locked and his form tense. “What did you do to her?” He asked and Chris knew his cover was blown. “Where did you take her?”
Despite clearly being caught, Chris continued to play it off and tried to de-escalate the situation as best as he could. “What are you talking about? I didn’t take her anywhere, she’s with Jill, right? She’s fine,”
His attempts to calm him down went right over Leon’s head as he reached down to flip the coffee table effortlessly, sending the two glasses slamming into the wooden floor with a piercing crash. “She’s not fine,” he seethed, taking two strides over to Chris and lifting him off the chair by the collar of his shirt. “You’ve done something to her, all of you did. I know you did, I can feel it. Where the fuck is she?”
Chris tried to push Leon away, but his grip on him was relentless and strong, much stronger than he had ever seen him. “Leon, she needs help,” he tried to get through to him, but was failing miserably. “You need it, too. We can help you, just tell us what happened.”
Leon just groaned animalistically before throwing Chris to the floor. He landed on his side while Leon reached for his phone and called you, his free hand reaching for his gun when it went straight to voicemail. “She doesn’t need help and she’s not fucking picking up,” he pocketed his phone as he crossed the room and pointed the gun at Chris. “Where the fuck did Jill take her? I won’t ask you again.” 
Chris stared up at his friend in defeat, slumping against the side of the couch. “I can’t tell you that,” he answered quietly. “She’s getting the help she needs, and when she’s back to her normal self, you’re next. There’s something wrong with the both of you, and you’re too far gone to admit it. But we’re going to fix you. I promise you that.”
Leon’s grip on the gun faltered just a bit, and Chris saw a flash of the old Leon come back for a fraction of second before he was shaking his head and leaning down. “When I find her, and I will, I’m going to come back here and make sure your blood paints every fucking surface in this room,” he threated before swinging his hand down and slamming the gun into the side of Chris’ head.
-
When Chris awoke some time later with a pounding headache, he frantically got up and called Jill, informing her that Leon was gone and had caught onto what they were doing. 
“Fuck,” she muttered as she hung up and sprinted back into the lab where Rebecca was currently running a bloodtest on you. She had used the small hole in the glass to spray in a sedative that rendered you weak and drowsy, giving her the perfect opportunity to collect a sample of your blood, as well as a bit of your saliva. “Rebecca! We have to go. Leon knows what’s going on and he’s one hell of a good tracker, he’ll be here any minute.”
Jill knew how protective Leon is over you, and that was before the two of you became infected with whatever it is that was running through your systems. She knew very well that he most likely had already figured out where they were keeping you and was on his way to massacre anyone who stood in his way of getting to you.
They had to be quick if they wanted a second chance at helping both of you. They needed to leave now if they wanted to live to see another day. 
Leon was well past thinking rationally at this point, and he will see everyone as a threat. And, like always, he will do everything in his power to eliminate said threat. 
Jill was sure he was already stalking the halls of this very building with a deadly look of determination in his eyes. She knew he wouldn’t see her as a friend right now, any maybe not ever again if she couldn’t figure out how to expel whatever had taken over his body, and she knew she’d be dead if he found her before he found you. 
“What?” Rebecca asked as she turned to look at your slouched form from behind the glass. You just smirk up at her as most of your energy has been drained, leaving you to just be able to wear a look that said I told you so. “But I haven’t gotten the results yet.”
Before Jill could respond, the sound of Leon’s voice calling out to you from somewhere down the hall had the two girls quickly packing up and sprinting towards the fire escape. 
As soon as the door closed behind them, the locked door to the room you were in was kicked open by Leon, who looked like he was out for blood. His eyes scanned the room expertly, the crease in his brow softening when he caught sight of you from behind the glass. 
You looked so drained and tired and Leon felt his anger rise as he crossed the room and placed his hand flat against the glass. “My sweet girl,” he murmured as he crouched down so he was at eye level with you. “What did they do to you?”
You struggled to lift yourself and face him, but you somehow managed to turn your body in his direction and gaze up at him with heavy eyes. “They took some of my blood,” you say and wince at the sharp pain that shot through your body when you tried to lift yourself up more. “Said they needed to test for any virus that could be in my system.”
Leon felt his blood boil at that, feeling a sudden urge to return home and finish the job he started on Chris before tracking down Jill and Rebecca and giving them the same treatment they gave you. “They’re going to try and tear us apart, try to take you away from me,” he said and watched the way your eyes widened just slightly at his words. “I’m not going to let them. They won’t touch a single hair on your pretty head ever again, do you hear me?”
You nodded and raised your hand so it was pressed against his through the glass. 
“Good,” he said before standing up and taking out his gun. “Now, move back, sweet girl.”
You did as you were told and pulled yourself to the opposite corner of the box, covering your ears as he raised his hand and aimed at the glass. One bullet later and the glass was shattering, the piercing sound ringing throughout the silent room.
Lifting your head, you were met with the feeling of fresh air filling your senses, a much better upgrade to the sedative you were forced to inhale for the last few hours. 
You don’t bother trying to pull yourself up as Leon moves into the now three sided box and steps onto the pieces of glass to get to you. He bends down and picks you up effortlessly, holding you tightly against his chest as he leaves the room and begins the long journey down the multitude of hallways.
“They’re not going to stop,” you say quietly, squeezing the fabric of his black shirt weakly in your hands. “They’re all convinced something is wrong with us, like we’re some problem that needs to be fixed. They’re going to keep trying to help us.”
Leon held you tighter against him as you spoke, his heart beating fast in his chest. He exits the lab and steps out into the setting sun, his grip on you never faltering as he makes his way to his car. “Maybe they’re the problem,” he muttered and opened the passenger side door. “Maybe we should do them all a favor and end their suffering now.” 
He gently sets you down onto the seat and leans in so his head was inches from yours. “How?” You ask as your hands reach out to grip his shoulders. 
Leon runs his fingers down the length of your side before settling his hand on your waist. “By killing them,” he answered and leaned in to run his lips along your jaw. You held back a moan as he continued, “I can only imagine all the sick and twisted things they were planning on doing to you if I hadn’t figured it all out. They seem to think it’s okay to hurt what’s mine if it means they’re providing you with the help they claim we need.”
He traces his tongue along the skin under your ear, making you grip him tighter with a low whine. “Leon,”
He grins against your skin. “I know, sweet girl,” he hushes you with a searing kiss, one that had your already dizzy mind go into a frenzy. You grip his shirt in your hands as his finger traces over the black veins that ran up your neck and stopped just below your jaw. “They won’t get away with this, won’t take you away from me.”
You nod and reach for his belt, but his hand wraps around your wrist and stops you. He shakes his head at your desperate look and presses a chaste kiss to your pouting mouth. 
“Later, baby,” he promises as he pulls away and grips the frame of the door. “Right now we have some old friends we need to see.”
266 notes · View notes
cockslutpadalecki · 1 year
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But The Flesh Is Always Weak
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Summary: It’s been a week since Andy broke things off, but to you, it feels like a lifetime.
Characters: Professor!Andy Barber x Student!Reader.
Words: 3K.
Warnings: teacher/student relationship, possessive behaviour, unhinged behaviour, gaslighting, manipulation, a face slap, throat grabbing, hate sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), forced orgasm, throat fucking, 18+. MINORS DNI.
A/N: The last visit to these two… well, for now. Thought I’d had better get round to posting this! You can read the rest of their story here. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.
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It’s only been a week since Andy broke things off, citing, “You should be dating boys your own age,” but it feels like a lifetime. A lifetime spent in hell. 
Every passing minute hurts. Every waking thought is plagued by his words and his touch on your skin. You drive yourself crazy, crying to the point of exhaustion before you wake up and do it all over again. 
You can’t eat; you can’t sleep. Your chest aches with every breath you take without him, and quite often as you clutch at it in the midst of another breakdown, you wonder if dying from a broken heart is possible. 
You shuffle through each day like a zombie, mindless with no real destination in mind— just wandering around waiting for something to distract you. 
It’s not until you get an email from him nine days in— addressed not only to you, but the Dean— that the agony seems to lessen slightly at the sight of his name. 
“I’m reaching out as you haven’t been to class for the past week and a half. I’m growing concerned for your wellbeing as this is just not like you. Please get in touch as soon as possible.”
It becomes an olive branch that you obsess over, desperately trying to seek out any hidden message he could be attempting to send. But after days of searching, you have nothing to show for your efforts and you begin to resent him. 
Anger bubbles up in place of your heartache— a strange sense of still needing him like you need air, but at the same time, wishing you could hurt him just as badly as he has hurt you. 
You can’t believe he has the audacity to show concern like he’s not solely responsible for shattering your world into a million tiny irreparable pieces, without a shred of noticeable apathy.
-
The driving force that propels you to attend his class surprises even you. You wake before your alarm, eager to dress in the outfit you excitedly picked the night before. Your stomach flutters as you walk through campus, feeling the most clear-headed you have in days. You can’t wait to see him. 
You feel a little giddy at the prospect of seeing evidence of the breakup on his face— perhaps red-rimmed eyes or melancholy preventing his smile from reaching his lips, but he somehow looks better now than before.
He doesn’t bat an eyelid when you slink into the hall while he’s mid-speech. He barely acknowledges your presence when you hand him your overdue essay; a secret love note slipped in between the pages just like you used to do. 
But what stings the most is that he doesn’t stop you from leaving when class is over. It’s like you don’t exist. Like the past nine months meant nothing, along with the litany of promises he’s already broken. 
He’s doing fine and you’re not? How is that fair? your mind screams as you glance over your shoulder, catching Rebecca hovering around his desk like a common house fly, buzzing around shit. 
You pause in the doorway, your stomach dropping like lead when Andy finally approaches her, and places his hand delicately on her arm.
And as he flashes her a wide grin, all of the momentum inside you deflates— the hurt and pain he has caused you morphs into pure rage.
-
The following evening, you know he’ll be alone at home. Five times you try to talk yourself out of going, but the overriding consensus eventually wins— he won’t be able to turn you away on his own doorstep. You just want to talk to him. 
Maybe ask if he’s replaced you with Rebecca yet. 
You pull up outside his neighbors’ and switch off the engine, gathering up the courage to get out when you notice movement at the front door. Andy steps outside, but he’s not alone. 
You’ve only seen her— his wife— in photographs, and you actually hate that she’s more beautiful in person. Part of you wonders why Andy would betray her, but then you remember all of the horror stories he would tell you. 
Her beauty is only skin deep. 
From the things you know about their relationship— how strained it is— it surprises you when he wraps his arm around her shoulder, leaning in to kiss her hair as they walk to his car. They’re laughing, smiling without a care in the world. From this vantage point, they look and act like newlyweds. You feel sick as you keep watching, noticing the way he gently pats her ass when she climbs into the passenger seat. 
The same passenger seat you’ve sat in countless times on drives back from secret trysts in dingy motel rooms, while your cunt still throbs.
Just before he gets into the car, he looks over his shoulder and for a wild moment, you swear he locks eyes with you from across the street.
-
He’s brought her here. The same place you used to have dinner. For a moment it feels like a knife wound to the heart that he would have the audacity to share this with her, but then you realise he has to be sending you a message. He must know you’ve followed him and he’s trying to communicate with you covertly so as not to draw attention to it.
Your stomach flutters, feeling a heavy sense of relief wash over you. 
He still cares. He still wants you.
For an hour, you sit in the parking lot before you regret drinking so much soda on your way here, needing desperately to pee. You know you could go to the mall across the street, but your feet pull you towards the restaurant before you can stop them. 
You make your way to the restroom, careful to avoid their table, and just as you’re about to leave, you spot Andy making his way towards you. Your heart leaps into your chest and you double back, waiting for the moment he’ll come bursting in, overwhelmed with joy at the sight of you. 
Nothing but silence follows, except for the dull thud of the men’s door opening and closing. 
Naughty. He wants you to go to him. 
Giggling, you sneak out of the women’s and push open the door to the men’s restroom, confused a little when you don’t spot Andy at the urinals. You’re about to retreat when you hear his familiar whistle, remembering all the mornings after the night before where you’d wake up to the sound of him in the en suite, whistling his favorite tune. 
He knows you’re listening. Dropping breadcrumbs in the hopes you’ll follow the trail right to his feet. And as you slip through the small gap between the door and frame, you hungrily swallow down every piece.
-
You wait until he’s finished in the stall before making yourself known. You don’t want to frighten him but as he begins to turn in the small space, ready to leave, he spots you in the doorway and nearly jumps out of his skin. 
“Jesus, what the fuck!” he half shouts, half whispers. 
“Oh god, I missed you,” you gush. Andy stares wide-eyed at you when you rush towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso. You inhale deeply and revel in his familiar smell, the scent enveloping you like a hazy dream. It feels so good to be so close to him again. Pulling back, you gaze up at him before rising onto your tiptoes, preparing to place a kiss on his lips. 
He quickly intervenes, pushing you away. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I wanted to see you so I went to your office, but you weren’t there so I thought I’d go by your house,” you reply simply, like he’s just asked you what two plus two is. 
“Th-that still doesn’t explain why you’re here.” 
You shrug. “I saw you getting in the car, so I followed you.”
“Why would you do that?” 
“I wanted to see where you were going, silly,” you giggle. “Bet you couldn’t imagine my surprise when you brought her to our place,” you add a little sharply.
“Actually, I used to come here…” he pauses before continuing with, “y’know, before.”
The metaphorical knife in your chest twists at his words, but you manage to recover quickly. 
“It’s okay,” you smile, “I can let that go.” 
You reach out for his hand, loving the softness, but inexplicably rough of his skin on yours. He allows it for a moment, running his thumb over yours before snatching it away. 
“You can’t be here.” 
“Afraid she’ll catch us?” you sidle up to him with a cute laugh. “Is this a new thing you want us to try?” Gently, you cup him through his pants and a wave of heat ripples through your gut. Andy hisses, his cock stirring against you as you squeeze gently, encouraging it to swell. “C’mon, don’t you remember the risks we used to take?” You rise up again, kissing the underside of his bottom lip. Even his beard feels amazing brushing across your chin.
He snaps, yelling, “No!” as he pushes you away, yet again. 
Sudden hot tears gather in your eyes at his outburst and a horrid realization sets in. “Have you really moved on already?” 
“How can I move on from something we never really had in the first place?” he brutally admits.
Ouch.
“But you promised me the world,” you start tearfully, “why would you choose her over me?”
Andy’s brow furrows. “She’s my wife.”
So? “That didn’t seem to matter when you were fucking me in her bed.”
White hot pain explodes across your cheek as the sound of the slap follows. Your hand shoots up to cradle the area, your skin throbbing. Fresh tears form as you try to stop yourself from crying with a loud sniff.
Andy steps to you, covering your hand with his. You’ve never seen him look so apologetic, even after he dumped you. “I’m sorry, fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— that was wrong.” 
You stare up at him, wide-eyed as he comforts you, asking if you’re okay. You just nod slowly, unable to find the words. This is what you needed to prove he still cares. 
“What we did, we shouldn’t have done,” he says softly. “I took advantage of you.” 
“Was it really taking advantage when I wanted you too?”
Andy smiles kindly, stroking your hand with his thumb. “I can’t give you what you want. You need someone who will treat you like you deserve.” 
“Why would I want anybody else?” you counter back with a shake of your head.
He lifts his hand from yours and places them both on his hips with a heavy sigh. “I know it’s hard to get over somebody you care about, but with time, it will get easier.” He reaches out, tenderly rubs your bicep as a form of comfort. He looks awkward doing it, like he’s afraid to touch you, when he’s touched you— fucked you in more intimate places than most boys would even be able to find on a map. 
Is he recounting that from experience? Is he telling you he’s not really over you either despite his insistence he is?
“I don’t want time, I don’t want it to get easier. I just want you.” 
Andy rubs his fingers into his eyes and lets go of an exasperated huff. “Listen to me,” he glances up, lips tight in a frown, “I’ve tried to be nice about it, but this is the last time I’m gonna say this. We’re over.”
Your cheek smarts as your jaw tightens and the rage you’ve managed to suppress bubbles up. “Then I guess I’ll just have to tell everyone you hit me.” 
He stares down at you in contempt for the first time ever, his features twisted in disgust. “That was an accident, I didn’t mean to do it, you know that.” 
“Was it though?” You give him a teasing pout. “‘Mr. Barber came onto me, slapped me when I said no’,” you put on a sad voice before it returns to normal. “Sounds like an open and shut case to me.” 
“Don’t you understand how damaging those accusations would be?” he spits, incensed. “I would lose my job, my marriage, everything.” 
You smile at him, giddy. “But then we could be together for real! No college to prosecute you for fucking a student and she’d divorce you, it’s perfect.”
The ire on Andy’s face contorts into sheer bafflement. “You crazy bitch, you’ve lost your fucking mind.” He tries to shuffle past you, but you block his way. “Get out of my way before I move you myself.” 
“What are you going to do, Sir?” you taunt. “Hit me again?” 
He lunges forward, hand wrapped around your throat and forces you up against the wall of the stall. “Don’t tempt me,” he breathes out heavily, gazing down at your body until his eyes meet yours once again. “Why I ever thought getting involved with you was a good idea, I’ll never know.” 
“Because, and I quote, ‘no other pussy could ever come close’,” you manage to croak out from beneath his grip. Reaching out, you cup him through his pants and he hisses between gritted teeth. 
Andy swats your hand away, but you quickly grab hold of his, shoving it beneath the hem of your dress. You let out a moan as his fingers brush up against your damp panties. 
You see the way Andy’s eyes flicker at the contact, the slight loss of control when his fingers flex around your throat. You move his hand up and down your clothed cunt, letting go of tiny whimpers as flames of heat begin burning through your core. 
“Touch me,” you beg. “Please.”
His jaw ticks like he’s fighting with himself, growling under his breath as you use his hand to pluck your panties to the side. 
“Fuck me, Daddy,” you purr. “Show me how much you’ve missed my tight little cunt.”
Closing his eyes, he mutters, “Stop,” but makes no attempt to pull away. 
He wants this just as much as you. 
And when you finally manipulate his fingers inside you, you can feel the resistance ebb as he starts to fight for control and eventually you let go, confident in the knowledge he’s not going to pull away. You reach for him and unzip his pants, the warmth of his cock meeting your fingertips as you slip your hand inside the gap.
“Remember how good I used to make you feel,” you whisper with delicacy. 
He doesn’t respond, instead choosing to stare at you the entire time, face tight with disdain as the sloppy wet sounds of your cunt fill the tiny stall. Legs trembling, you can feel your orgasm beginning to crest. The pressure in your gut becomes too much. You push at his hand to move it away, but Andy doesn’t stop.
“No. You wanted this, so you’re gonna come,” he tells you sharply. “Do it.” 
“I c-can’t.” 
“You will.” He leans in, capturing your lips in a wet kiss as he presses the base of his palm against your clit, and you unravel like a spool of thread. 
You’re still coming as he removes his hands from your body, hurriedly lifting you up around his waist. He’s inside you in one swift stroke, stuffing you to the brim for a split second before he’s pulling back out. 
He fucks you like he hates you. Mean, hard thrusts that push you back against the stall until your spine physically aches from the force. You embrace it— every bruise, every welt— the pain reminds you of how close you came to losing him, and you promise yourself that it won’t happen again.
Another wave of heat builds steadily beneath your skin, tingling all the way down to your toes. This time, you welcome the overstimulation, squirting all over his cock with a heady moan. 
“Oh fuck,” he growls into the juncture of your neck, teeth nipping at your skin. “God, holy shit.” Andy roughly pulls out, and drops you to your feet. He tugs on his dick as you move to kneel before him, presenting your tongue like a dog waiting for a treat. 
Andy grabs your hair, tugging hard on the roots as he shoves his cock to the back of your throat and you gag from the lack of warning. He fucks your mouth, exploding messily across your tongue with a strained grunt, stray droplets of cum spilling out from the corner of your lips, unable to lick them away. 
Your throat throbs when he retreats, and blessed air rushes back into your lungs with an almighty whoosh. Eventually, he loosens his grip on your skull and leans into the stall with his palm, eyes firmly closed. His breathing is still jagged and unsteady as he repeats, “fuck,” to himself as the enormity of the situation comes crashing down around him. 
Finally, his eyes flicker open, the pure disgust and conviction returning to his expression as he stares down at you, and you know what he’s going to say before he says it. 
“This is it,” he states curtly. You slowly rise to your feet in the small gap, leaning in to kiss him but he pulls back. 
“Don’t be like that, Daddy,” you pout. “You used to love tasting yourself on my lips.”
His jaw tightens in frustration as he snaps, “I mean it,” and your name rolls off his tongue like molasses.
“Okay,” you smirk with a light shrug, triumphant that despite his insistence, you know it won’t be. You have leverage and Andy, of all people, should know that's the golden ticket. You slip from the stall without another word, taking a moment to check yourself out in the mirror before turning to press a finger to your lips. Grabbing the door handle, you yank it open without bothering to check if anyone is around before sauntering out, a little limp new to your gait. 
***
ALL CE: @buckymydarlingangel @broadwaybabe18 @captain-asguard @chamberofsloths @cevansgurl @dreamlessinparis @deanwinchesterswitch @fandom-princess-forevermore @hurricanerin @kellhems @ladybug05 @mugi-chwan95 @navybrat817 @otomefromtheheart @oneoftheprettynerds @patzammit @rebel-stardust @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @sammykb1994 @syrenavenger @saiyanprincessswanie @sunwardsss @selfsun @threeminutesoflife @vicmc624 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wintasssoldier @xoxonotme
4EVS: @amirra88 @andreasworlsboring101 @b3autyfuldisast3r @cheesyclaire @chibijusstuff @callsignrambam @dangertoozmanykids101 @daughterofthenight117 @doozywoozy @foxyjwls007 @geekofmanyforms @heyyouwiththeassbutt @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @ilovefanfic86 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @letsby @letsdisneythings @labella420 @mogaruke @maliburenee @notyourtypicalrose @nik2write @obsessivelycapricious @patrick-hockslutter @princessmisery666 @phildunphyisadilf @sage-writing @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @smokeandnailz @stoneyggirl @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @thegirlnextdoorssister @wayward-dreamer @warriorqueen1991 @xoxabs88xox
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norlestappen · 5 months
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The Williams Shitstorm - LS2
Summary: After Alex crashed in Australia, Logan was just ready to be sad with y/n, but y/n was having none of that. She was ready to fight everyone to make sure her boyfriend was happy again. Sad-boyfriend!Logan x confident gf!reader
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Time flew by, you cheering for your boyfriend, feeling so confident in his performance in the current season. You felt so happy knowing that Logan got his second chance and could finally prove that he was just as talented as the other drivers on the grid.
When you used to work in a boring office, you would always miss your boyfriend, seeing him on the television that was positioned on the other end of the room.
Dating a racing driver had its ups and downs, but you would never trade it for the world. You had a gentle, kind, and wholehearted man by your side, who never once doubted your abilities or you.
It seemed like the perfect opportunity when you were offered a job in Williams when Logan resigned for another year. You felt ecstatic being able to stay with your boyfriend, still being able to work and finally having that free time together that you guys always missed out on.
All of that gratefulness ended when you were in Melbourne, Alex had just crashed in FP2 and they had to find a solution on what to do. You were on edge a little bit, not liking the fact what the team was talking about. Getting Alex to race in Logans car? Impossible. Trying to repair his car? Unless they were magicians, that would be pretty impossible too. You were getting impatient, waiting in Logan’s drivers’ room, wanting an answer on this whole situation. You knew that Logan would agree to anything that James made him do, because he was just that person. Never arguing, in hopes to not raise any attention to himself.
So, when the door opened and he just laid down next to you on the tiny couch, you just knew something must have happened. He would always try to escape his mind by cuddling into you, like an infant. But you also knew that there was no way to get the information at that given moment. He needed to calm down, collect his thoughts and just relax before approaching the subject.
In the meantime, you were texting the wags group chat, trying to get more information on whatever drama was going on in the other teams. But most things weren’t new.
Kika and Flavy were complaining about Alpine being shit. Alexandra and Rebecca had their own conversation going on, while both Lilys, Luisa, and you were discussing what was going on with Logan. Barely a few minutes went on, when you got a message of Alex’s Lily:
Lily Albono: heyy girl, so I just talked to Alex, and I got horrible news. Alex is fine btw, but idk about Logan. Is he with you? Alex is worried. Apparently, Alex is driving Logans car tomorrow? Wish I had better news, but James said that Logan is sitting out this GP since Alex always has more points than him.
Your phone fell down, accidentally hitting Logan’s head as it fell down onto the floor. You couldn’t even process what happened as your whole body was suddenly fueled with anger and frustration.
Sitting up, you looked at your confused and sleepy boyfriend and you just hug him tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me, Lo? You do know that you can always tell me anything, right?” He looked up at you, nodding slightly, tears escaping his eyes already.
“You know about it, don’t you? That I can’t race anymore this week?” You nodded, not wanting to scare Logan because you knew that he was just the babygirl in this relationship.
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rebeccalouisaferguson · 7 months
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REVIEW ROUND UP OF DUNE: PART TWO
"Ferguson delivers another beguilingly sinister turn as Jessica, arguably the most fascinating character in the whole film..." https://www.dexerto.com/tv-movies/dune-2-review-2541695/
"Rebecca Ferguson adds a hint of malevolence to the gravitas she brought to the first movie, continuing her role as Atreides’ mother and champion." https://www.avclub.com/dune-2-review-visually-ravishing-storytelling-1851274494
"Butler remains the flashier villain, but Rebecca Furgeson proves to be the film’s horrific star. Seamlessly transitioning from conscientious mother to cunning priestess, she wanders through the film continuously plotting with her pregnant belly. The mere flick of her eyes is enough to show not only dangerous instability, but the frightening calculations behind the power she’s amassing." https://femaleantagonist.com/dune-part-two-leads-a-burgeoning-franchise-into-paradise/
"Zendaya and Ferguson steal the show, providing polar opposite figures in his development. Ferguson must chart a course from a physical and emotional threat to a large-scale schemer. The character transformation comes after drinking a substance, but watching her mental evolution is something to behold." https://sunshinestatecineplex.com/2024/02/21/dune-part-two-2024/
 "...it may be Rebecca Ferguson who gives the most villainous performance. Ferguson commits to making your blood boil as Lady Jessica corrupts her own son, leaving no question as to who the most vile character is." https://discussingfilm.net/2024/02/21/dune-part-two-review-denis-villeneuves-daring-epic-is-unlike-anything-weve-seen/
"Ferguson eats up every morsel of her rejuvenated, meaty role." https://freshfiction.tv/dune-part-two-review-denis-villeneuves-monumental-masterpiece/
"Chalamet and Ferguson take all that was regal and dignified about their performances, and apply to them a poisoned tip." https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/films/reviews/dune-part-two-review-zendaya-timothee-chalamet-b2499855.html
"The rest of the cast is fine and engaged, with Rebecca Ferguson playing complex notes as a wannabe mother-of-God..."https://scottmendelson.substack.com/p/review-dune-part-two-is-an-audiovisual
"Ferguson, her face tattooed throughout much of the movie, leans into an arresting menace." https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/movies/story/2024-02-21/dune-part-2-review-timothee-chalamet-zendaya-austin-butler-denis-villeneuve
"Chalamet and Ferguson’s performances are strongest when mother and son tussle about the right thing to do. Through these arguments, Chalamet sheds the boyish innocence of the first film for a darker, more complicated persona. Ferguson’s character also enters more morally ambiguous terrain when she is asked by the Fremen to become the group’s Reverend Mother." https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-reviews/dune-part-two-review-timothee-chalamet-zendaya-1235830061/
"...but it’s Ferguson’s slippery performance and Bardem’s playful one that really add flavors here that weren’t in the first outing." https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/dune-part-two-movie-review-2024
"Ferguson’s Lady Jessica rises to become a gripping “Dune” persona, who goes from being extremely dry in the first film to an intriguingly determined figure in “Part Two.”https://eu.usatoday.com/story/entertainment/movies/2024/02/21/dune-2-movie-review/72654598007/
"Even Rebecca Ferguson, who bristles early on in this film when it comes to her exact role in this story, blossoms into a bonafide force of Reverend Mother nature that does well to capitalize on her ability to mix vulnerability with savage confidence. Pretty much how I always envisioned Mother Mary, myself." https://inbetweendrafts.com/dune-part-two-review/
"Ultimately, it's Lady Jessica and Feyd-Rautha that reveal the true terror of unfettered belief. Watching Rebecca Ferguson stride through the Fremen's desert hideaway as she whispers to her fetus could easily fall into caricature if it weren't so chilling."https://screenrant.com/dune-part-2-movie-review/
"...this is an undoubted success, and is powered a clutch of lead performances – Chalamet, Zendaya and Rebecca Ferguson as a newly-ordained Bene Gesserit reverend mother at the shining core of the ensemble..." https://lwlies.com/reviews/dune-part-two/
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riptideripley · 1 year
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Hi i have this idea..
Rhea goes on a several week work trip. Reader misses Rhea A LOT but through texting her it’s easy to fake just how much she misses her so she puts on a strong image and constantly assures Rhea that she’s doing just fine alone at home. When Rhea shows up at the house a week early to surprise the reader she finds reader in a really sad and miserable state, watching Rhea’s most recent fights and eating pints of ice cream. You can go wherever you want with this.. to maybe Rhea comforting reader or even further (SMUT?!!)
1st time requesting u don’t have to do it just wanted to ask <3
Red Velvet Kisses
gif creds: @rebecca-quin
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summary:Rhea is away on a work trip and you miss her A LOT,but assure her you’re ok. Until she comes home early to see otherwise,so she fixes that..
WC:1,084
a/n:I decided to experiment with food play for the first time so please tell me how I did in the comments!!
Rhea had been away for 5 weeks now and you missed her. She would constantly text you asking if you’re ok and if you need anything,but you lied to her. Telling her you were ok and didn’t need anything,that you didn’t miss her as much. Rhea believed you since you enjoy your own personal space sometimes,so she never questioned you.
Rhea had another week left for her trip and you were sitting in bed,scrolling through old pictures of you two together. You sighed and threw your phone on the other side of the bed,her side. You sighed and scooted over to her side of the bed,grabbing your laptop. You got up and walked downstairs,walking to the kitchen and grabbing a pint of Red Velvet ice cream. You grabbed a spoon and walked upstairs,sitting on Rhea’s side of the bed wrapping her favorite blanket around you. You opened your laptop and opened YouTube,searching up her name. You sighed and scrolled through,clicking on your favorite match of hers,Wrestlemania 39.
You opened the ice cream as you continued watching,clicking through and watching other matches as well. You felt tears from in your eyes and wiped them,eating the ice cream.
Rhea,unannounced and unknowingly,was downstairs. She set her stuff down gently not to disturb you and went to the kitchen,grabbing a bottle of water. She opened it and drank a little,letting out a soft moan of relief from her dry mouth. She closed it back up and headed upstairs,tiptoeing to your shared bedroom. She froze when she heard soft cries,making her worry. She peeked into the door and could hear you watching one of her old NXT matches against Roxanne Perez.
“Baby..?” you heard her whisper softly,scaring you and making you yelp. You threw the blanket off of your head and calmed down a little once you realized who it was. “R-Rhea I thought you weren’t gonna be home till next week..?” you questioned her,opening your arms for a hug. She smiled and scooped you up,wrapping your legs around her waist. “I came home early for you baby,now tell me why you were crying?” she asked making you cover your face. She moved your hands and looked at you,staring into your eyes with a soft expression. “I-I just missed you..that’s all” you admitted softly,watching her expression change. “Baby if you missed me that much you should’ve said something,I would’ve booked an earlier flight” she said,kissing the sides of your face.
She placed you down gently on the bed,hovering over you. Something washed over her and she began kissing your neck. “Rhea..fuck” you threw your head back giving her more access,feeling her rub your thighs. She sat up and pulled her shirt above her head,doing the same with yours. She dove back into your neck,assisting you as you unbuckled her belt. She paused for a moment to look at you,a smile appearing on her face.
She shifted your positions so you were on top of you,sliding her hands behind your back to unclasp your bra. She tossed it off to the side and lifted you up,sliding her pants off revealing her strap. Your eyes widen slightly at the size,slowly taking your shorts off. She noticed the still frozen sitting on the nightstand,grabbing it along with the spoon. “I wanna try something tonight” she looked up at you holding the ice cream. You two had never tried food play,only talked about it. So when she suggested it you got excited and agreed,making her light up with excitement.
She lifted you up and placed you on the bed,scooping some ice cream onto her tongue as she began to lick your stomach down to your thighs. You shivered at the sudden coldness and arched your back slightly. Rhea smiled at this,working her mouth on your clit. She continued her actions,tapping the spoon in the ice cream then placing the cold spoon onto your thighs. You whined when she suddenly stopped,but gasped when you felt the tip of her strap slowly push inside of you. Rhea took more of the ice cream onto her tongue and pulled you into a deep kiss,thrusting inside of you.
The sweet taste of red velvet ice cream and the taste of her all at once tasted amazing. She pulled away smiling and grabbed some more of the ice cream,trailing it down your stomach. She leaned down,thrusts getting faster and deeper,licking the ice cream off of your stomach making you whine. She lifted both of your thighs up and placed your legs over her shoulder,making you let out a scream of pleasure. “O-Oh my god Rhea!” you yelled out as she continued,noticing the ice cream had about 2 scoops left meaning she had to think wisely of how she wanted to use them. She got an idea and suddenly pulled out,making you whine.
“You trust me right?” she spoke suddenly making you sit up and nod slowly. You glanced at her and saw her putting ice cream on her tongue,suddenly licking your clit. You gasped at the cold sensation letting out a soft moan,which made Rhea smile against your clit. You threw your head back moaning,feeling her tongue piercing glide over your clit repeatedly. “P-please mommy m’close!” you yelped out feeling your orgasm approaching,a tight knot in your stomach. She suddenly stopped and stood up,sliding back into you. You whimpered softly,feeling her thrust at a slow but deep pace.
She could sense that you were close and scooped the last bit of ice cream in her mouth,pulling you into a deep kiss. You let out a loud moan which was cut short with the kiss.feeling your orgasm wash over you. You whined when she continued thrusting,letting you ride out your orgasm. You were a panting mess,licking a bit of ice cream off your lip. Rhea chuckled,kissing your forehead. “I see how much you missed me hm” she hummed softly,pulling out and removing the strap from herself. You laid there for a moment until she lifted you up,carrying you to the bathroom. “I’m glad you’re home baby” you whispered softly,clinging onto her neck. “I can tell sweetheart,now lets take shower baby”
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thetarttfuldickhead · 8 months
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If When Jamie is named England’s captain a few years from now and he’s asked about inspirational figures and captain role models, he will not stop singing Isaac’s praises. Just, the way Isaac runs a tight ship and won’t tolerate any nonsense but always has their backs and makes sure there’s a lot of fun, too, silly stuff that keeps the team close and happy and mutually supportive; keeps them feeling like family, almost. It’s Ted’s heritage, the seeds Ted planted, but Isaac’s nurtured and sustained them, tended to the garden and kept it in bloom, and added some vibrant saplings of his own.
Jamie probably names a couple of other people too, whoever was in charge when he played for Man City, someone from his academy days or England’s under-21s, people like that.
He doesn’t mention Roy. And no one asks about it, and no one thinks anything of it—
—except for Roy, who watches the interview with Keeley curled up against his side on their couch and who notices the omission with a wild jumble of hurt and wounded pride and shame and jealousy (all mixed up with the shocking, burning pride he feels for Jamie, England’s captain, fucking hell).
Because Roy knows he wasn’t a great captain for Richmond, yeah, and was a horrible captain for Jamie (though to be fair, Jamie was a horrible person to captain, and Isaac isn’t likely to have been able to handle him at full-on prick either, only Roy’s not fantastic at being fair to himself, so), but he’s still Roy fucking Kent, the best on any team he’s ever been on and Jamie’s fucking childhood idol and his fucking everything now, so to have the little prick not even mention him…
He sulks. He tries not to, because he knows it’s silly and it’s Jamie’s big day, isn’t it, and Roy’s not going to ruin it by having A Feeling, but the feeling(s) persist and he walks through the afternoon with his scowl several shades darker than normally.
“What’s the matter, babe?” Keeley asks, and Roy’s long since given up trying to bullshit her so he spills. Keeley nods and listens and gives him a hug and a kiss and tells him that yeah, you’re gonna need to let that go or actually talk to Jamie about it, because she has long since taken a stand on not sorting their shit out for them.
And she has a thing with Rebecca that afternoon (only it’s the first Roy’s ever heard of it, so he can’t help but wonder if she had a thing with Rebecca prior to Roy’s confession), so when Jamie gets home, bouncing through the door like a puppy on speed, it’s just Roy there to greet him and tell him how amazing he is and yes, of course Roy watched the announcement, your hair looked fucking fine, yes, Keeley saw it too, no, don’t worry, she’s just out for coffee, she’ll be back for dinner and let you know how very impressed she is, and it’d be easy to just let it lie, put the lingering regret away and bask in Jamie’s joy, but they’d said they’d try not do that anymore, not cover stuff up when there’s the chance they might fester, so when Jamie furrows his brow and cocks his head to the side and asks if he’s okay, Roy takes a deep breath:
“It fucking hurt my feeling when you didn’t mention me, when they asked about captains that have inspired you,” he says, and then adds before Jamie can reply, “I know why you didn’t and that’s… that’s fucking fair, innit, but. It also made me wish that I’d been. Better. A better captain. For you.”
“Yeah,” Jamie says after a long, silent moment. He’s wearing that slightly blank look he adopts whenever someone’s caught him by surprise and he’s trying to figure out how to react. “Um. Sometimes I wish I’d been less of a prick, too, you know.”
Roy nods. He knows. And it’s not absolution, and it neither erases or rewrites any of their past mistakes, but it eases the ache in Roy’s chest all the same.
“We’re better now,” he offers, to Jamie, to himself.
“Yeah,” Jamie agrees with a small sigh. He grabs hold of Roy’s hand, tugging him along as he sits down on the couch, and then he curls up against Roy’s side, same as Keeley did just hours ago. “You’re a great fucking coach, though” he tells Roy seriously. “Me favourite, swear down.”
Roy snorts a laugh as he puts an arm around Jamie. “Better fucking be, considering how many blowjobs I’ve given you this week alone.”
“Mm, fucking mint, those,” Jamie agrees thoughtfully, then jabs a finger in Roy’s side. “Oi, this is the part where you tell me I’m your favourite player.”
And oh. That’s perfect, innit. “You’re not my favourite player,” Roy says, carefully not looking at Jamie.
The noise Jamie makes are equal parts disbelieving and outraged. “Um, excuse me, mate?”
“You’re not,” Roy insists, feeling a smile tug at his lips as he innocently adds, “It’s probably Isaac.”
And Jamie huffs a laugh against his neck. And Jamie says you’re an arsehole. And Jamie says you’re me favourite arsehole, though.
You’re me favourite everything, man.
And Roy holds him tight and breathes him in and, for the moment, believes him.
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