#eventual fluff

[virginsexgod69]

Seclusion Masterlist

A storm brings a stranger to the outside of your cabin. After accidentally shooting him, you take him in, allowing him to use your cabin as shelter from the storm. During his stay, you grow fond of the handsome man and come to enjoy his company. He too, grows fond of you, making it difficult for him to make the decision to leave.

► 1| A Cabin in the Woods

► 2| Locked Doors

► 3| Stormy Weather

► 4| Mourning

► 5| Rebuilding

► 6| Squirrels & Wood

► 7| Chapter 7.....

► 8| Chapter 8....

[bluelinen]

𝕴𝖓𝖋𝖑𝖚𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

Pairing: Friend's older brother!Choso x fem!Reader Synopsis: After a moment in the Kamo household the thread of your story has been entwined with those of the two boys who live there. One, a boy you met during your first semester of college who’s warm smile firmly burrowed it's way deep into your heart. The other, his older brother with an air of mystery and the sultry lingering scent of crushed cigarettes following close behind him. The way his eyes roam over you rocks your world and unbeknownst to even himself, he'd give anything, do anything just to keep your eyes fixed back squarely, solely onto him.

Your knuckles rapt several times on the wooden door and the moment your eyes caught sight of the figure behind it you knew you were done for.

Itadori had brought up his brother once or twice before. A quiet dude. Dishevelled looking, usually tired. Keeps to himself and almost never leaves his room, let alone his apartment. You expected something like that when Yuji sent a text informing you that he needed to get a few errands done so it’d be a while before he’d get back for that study session.

‘My big bro’ll be home, he’ll open up for you.’

Some hermit, a odd looking dude who looked like he’d never seen the light of day. While beholding him now you find that the description wasn't entirely a lie.. But god was it far from the truth.

Whatever.. whoever you expected, it wasn’t him.

The wooden door drew open and your face was immediately met with the faded print of the large t-shirt that fitted nicely over his broad chest.

You blinked. How tall was this guy? You considered yourself a pretty average height, a lot of guys were taller than you but this.. this was stupid. You had to actively tilt your head upwards and you obliged to do so, your eyes trailing upwards along the serpentine ink around his neck, the small head of the reptilian creature making an appearance just under the black stud in his left ear as the guy tilted his head to the side with indifference, stretching the muscles of his slender neck.

A soft yawn drew your attention to the lips that parted for its escape. You found it a lovely sound, a sound you wouldn’t mind hearing again once. Maybe twice. A couple more times actually..

You figured it wouldn't be long before you'd hear it again when your clear eyes flickered up to his far muddier ones. It was like he had just gotten out of bed. Sleeping a few minutes before begrudgingly coming to answer the door. Or rather attempting at sleeping, quite unsuccessfully as evidenced by the dark circles under his dark dark eyes.

Those deep brown lenses gave insight to no particular emotion or thought you found, but were still so mesmerising, so much so you almost didn’t register the large stripe of black tattooed over the bridge of his nose. Which was quite unprecedented considering the fact that it was the most noticeable feature of his face, stretching from the side of one cheek to the other. It was an unusual place for an unusual tattoo but you felt it fit him well as did his strong nose and his pretty.. pretty lips..

My god he was hot.

“You’re Yuji’s friend.. Right?” He asked, sluggishly blinking down at your form, his voice a mellow hum. A pale heavy hand reached up to scratch the back of his head, inching a few strands of hair out of it’s messy updo as he gazed somewhat skywards, seemingly addressing more himself than you. “He did say a friend was coming over...”

He blinked again and focused his eyes back onto you. “Uh.. You’re welcome to stay and wait for him till he comes back.”

You barely took in what he was saying, quite frankly struck dumb at the make of the man standing before you. There’s no way he was real.

You stared up at him, wide-eyed and an expression of slight bewilderment crosses over his. One eyebrow raising slightly, the twin piercings hooked into it moving with him as he took in your odd gaze. It wasn’t everyday he opened his door to find a stare like yours waiting for him. He shifted a little at his doorframe, waiting for your response to his offer.

A few seconds passed before you realised you’d been staring too long and your face warmed as you promptly swerved your gaze to the right, focusing on a small rut in the wall. You let out a nervous little laugh as you asked the obvious question. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

His features relaxed as he observed the change in your manner, giving you a subtle smile as he leaned slightly against the doorway, a tattooed wrist sliding into the pocket of his loose pants. “Would you like to come in and wait for my brother?”

You nodded a little in embarrassment. “Yeah.. That’d be great.”

He moved to the side, giving you space to step in. “Come in.”

As you moved in through the front door you heard a sudden jingle and subconsciously reached for your phone only for the guy to already have his in hand, his brows narrowing slightly at the screen before he looks back over to you again.

“Yuji won’t be back for a while.” He began. You nodded.

“He said he’d be picking up some things didn’t he?”

He shook his head slightly. “That was before. He’ll be gone a lot longer than whatever time that was supposed to take him.”

You wondered what on earth he was talking about until he uttered the word ‘coach’ and it all made a lot more sense.

“Ah..” You sighed. It wasn’t long before the vibration in your pocket informed you of the same thing.

“He says he’ll get back as soon as he can..” Your eyes glance over the ‘sorry’ message on the screen.

Knowing that man he’d probably keep Yuji there till the very next morning. You wondered if you should just reschedule, who knew when he’d get back.. But you’d already made your way here and to make a journey all the way back to that bus stop just to wait on transport with that unreliable timetable, in the cold too, didn’t seem all that appealing. You had your materials and counted on studying all the difficult stuff with Yuji.

Not that he’d probably be of help or anything but struggling together would be fun.. and he did say the most surprisingly conductive things at times. You didn’t mind waiting for Yuji but you also made a glance at his older brother standing before you, arms crossed as he looked over you with a pending stare.

You didn’t want to be a bother.

“You’re still welcome to stay if you want.” Choso states as if having sensed your dilemma.

You looked up at him with a small smile, feeling relieved to hear the simple sentence.

You nodded.

“Okay.”

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

A/N: Kinda realised that I should probably promote this fanfic on tumblr too :P

Chapter 2 is out on Ao3 !! if you liked this intro chapter check it out if you think you'd like to follow a more serialised story from me ^^

Art drawn by yume041624 on twitter/x & edited by me :33

[no1sillybilly]

Sneak peak lovelies~! Hope you like the 1 and a half paragraphs you get~!

Coming out hopefully in the next week, then I’ll get to Luci’s and the others on my list (:

Oh btw don’t listen to the tags, I forgot to add mention, and description of cannibalism soooo..

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Maybe the teen (about 15 ish) daughter of an unsub who spencer is questioning about her unsub dad and there's clearly more that her dad is doing to her that she won't tell him about and maybe she gets a little clingy to spencer?

Spencer Reid x Teen Reader

Request: Maybe the teen (about 15 ish) daughter of an unsub who spencer is questioning about her unsub dad and there's clearly more that her dad is doing to her that she won't tell him about and maybe she gets a little clingy to spencer?

Third person pov...

Y/N walked into the police station, she had been called by thr sheriff to come in, they had some questions for her. They had been calling about her Dad all week.

Which of course made that his reason to beat her, accusing her of rating him out to the police, she promised him she never said anything of course he never listened.

Y/Ns father is the serial killer the police have been looking for, hes been kidnapping and murdering young girls who he finds annoying in some way for the past 6 months, a new one goes missing every week.

Y/N of course has witnessed every kill and kidnapping, the man was ruthless if he wasn't killing and making the girl watch, then he was abusing his daughter.

Still recovering from the beating she got jsut before she left the house the teen pulls at her clothes making sure her neck and wrists are covered.

Limping slightly she tells the receptionist who she is and they tell her the sheriff if waiting for her, giving the officer a smile she walks through the busy bullpen until she get to the sheriffs office.

Knocking on the door she walks in. "Hey there Y/N, glad you could come down" Says Sheriff Briest, he stands up and walks towards the teen, noticing how she steps back automatically.

The sheriff of course noticed, he had been called to the L/N residence alot over the years since Y/Ns Mum died, reports of crying and shouting coming from inside the house.

When questioned Mr L/N would tell them everything was okay and that Y/N was acting up, these lies continued all her life making the young girl seem like a troubled teenager who was rude and never listened to anyone.

Though the sheriff knew something was wrong he saw the signs and so did his officers but knowone was able to do anything about it as Y/N never told anyone not even when she was a kid.

Threat of death proved to be useful, Her Father would remind her what would happen should she tell anyone. "There's some people I want you to answer some questions for okay" Says the Sheriff.

Y/N freezes sightly as they walk into one of the briefing room that was usually unoccupied, but was now being used by a group of people. 'FBI' thought the girl instantly.

"Agent Hotchner, Y/N is here. Y/N these are the Behavioural Analysis Unit. They are here to help us find the killer" explained Sheriff Briest, Y/N doesn't look up at the people.

If she looked anyone in the eye she'd get beat again by her Father. She learnt that the hard way when she looked up at someone who was speaking to her Dad when she was 6. Since then she avoids eye contact.

"Hi" Says the teen looking at the shoes of the agents. "Hello Y/N, I'm Agent Hotchner these are Agents Jareau, Gideon, Morgan , Greenaway and Dr Reid" says polished black shoes.

"Nice to meet you" mutters Y/N, soon she is sitting in an interrogation room with Dr Reid. Nervously tapping her finger on the table she waits for the young Dr to walk in and ask her questions.

Minutes later the man walks in and sits down on the chair infront of her. After a few seconds of silence he speaks. "Hello Y/N, my names Spencer I work with the BAU, I'm going to ask you some questions okay?" He tells the girl.

Y/N nods her head. "Yes sir" she mutters wanting to go home and not be there. "Now can you tell me about your Father" Says the man, Y/N freezes her tapping increasing as she shakes slightly.

Trying desperately to stop shaking she answers the question. "I love my Dad, he doesn't do anything wrong he loves me" she says, her voice robotic as if it had been planted into her head as an automatic answer to that specific question.

Spencer takes notes of her behaviour, eyeing the two way glass he askes another question. "I'm sure he does, now, does your father leave for long periods of time, not telling you where he's going or why?"

Y/N hesitates before shaking her head. "He doesn't, Dad is always as home after work, dad loves me he doesn't do anything wrong" Spencer notes how the last part it connected to the answer from before.

"Okay, Y/N. Does your Dad hurt you?" Spencer knows asking that question would have a strong reaction but he didn’t expect the girl to slam her hand on the table and stand up and start pacing.

"No he doesn't hurt me! Dad loves me he doesn't hurt me" she yells almost crying, tears in her eyes but not falling yet, Spencer gasps at the raw emotion in the 15 year old eyes.

Desperation seeped into her voice, as she stared into the man's eyes, he noticed this was the first time he had seen her eyes. Suddenly the girl gasped and slammed her back into the wall.

Gripping her head she bring smacking her back against the wall. "Nonononono can't do that against the rules can't do that" she mumbles falling into hysterics, Spencer is soon joined by Derek and Elle.

The two had ran in when Y/N started repeating to herself. The three stand in shock not knowing what to do to help, Spencer is quick to notice the bruises on her neck and wrists. "Morgan" he whispers, the man nods his head he's seen the bruises on the girl.

Pulling out his phone, him and Elle leave Spencer alone with Y/N, the girl is still smacking her back on tjr wall as if she was punishing herself, the man slowly inches towards the grill.

"Y/N, Y/N its me Spencer remember" he whispers to the girl, holding out his hands non threateningly he speaks to the teenager desperate to calm her dow from her panic attack.

"Nonono broke the rules" muttered the girl. "Y/N you haven't broken any rules, your Father can't get you here okay, your safe your safe with me" he tells the girl, slowly Y/N pulls her hands awa from her hair and stopping smacking her back against the wall.

Smiling at the teen Spencer stays back. "I'm safe here" she whispers horsely, Spencer nods his head. "Yes that's right your safe here, I won't let anyone hurt you" he says.

Y/N slowly begins to inch closer to the man eagerly seeking comfort, soon the girl was throwing herself at him, Spencer hugs her tightly whispering that she was okay and he wouldn't hurt her.

An hour later the Team and swat had arrested Y/Ns Father for the abuse she suffered and 15 accounts of murder.

Over the next few days adter they had caught the killer, Y/N had grown close to Spencer, she wouldn't let him out of her sight scared her father would come and hurt her, Spencer stayed with the teen while she recovered in hospital from the abuse she suffered from her father.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot sorry for the wait, as usual sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Request are open!

Word count: 1277

[tanema123]

Night furies au x Hazbin hotel

We got, Zestial as a night fury and Carmilla as a mixed fury. In this au, most furies have evolved over time to mach their environment. Zestial lives in a dark cold environment, aka a cave of the mountain. Carmilla lives just outside his cave, with her daughters.

Colors on Zestial's wings are more of an intimidation factor. By folding them he can blend in with the shadows which is good for sneak attacks. Occasionally, he would play hide and seek with Carmilla's daughters, usually when Carmilla is out hunting. He has an energy ball attack, which can shatter a city if enough power was used. He is a lot older than he looks, and has so many battle scars to prove it.

Carmilla's feathers are a good cold protection, but also make her a graceful flyer. She may look like she is the best suited for sky combat, but her expertice is actually on land. Her back legs are the most feared thing as they each, contain a claw that can break a diamond with enough force. She has an energy blast attack, but it doesn't really cause much damage, mostly a ruined small home level. *Added attack, a nice idea by a fellow zestmilla fan. The DIVE. Carmilla flies in the air like a falcon and dives down with her back legs facing the ground*

They have a symbiotic reletionship. She moved near him one day, and they were extremelly suspicious of one another... Like cats. They would always growl and glare at each other. After a while, Carmilla laid her two eggs, and she became even more protective. They didn't fully get along untl another dragon came on ther teritory and threatened the eggs. That dragon didn't live for long and they bonded over the same cause. Now they help each other, take care of each other, such as taking turns in hunting and watching over Odette and Clara. Zestial might not be their dad, but he is trying.

[vampsquerade]

i need some huge konig comfort because im so upset :(

dude of course! i’m so sorry for getting to this a little late, but i hope you’re feeling better being upset is never fun and how long i took probably didn’t help you :c wishing you the best and lord of love

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

König x GN!Reader: Righting Someone’s Wrong

Trigger Warnings: angst with a good ending, hurt/comfort, accidental stalking(?), scars, failed dates, kissing, embracing, anxiety, apologies, threatening language, use of Y/N

Life has a really shitty way of having to balance things within the universe for everybody in the world. Some people tend to get very lucky while others are given the opposite side of the coin. Day in and day out, every second, imaginary numbers would change sequence to infinite possibilities and change the probability outcome. You were convinced it would just stay that way for you forever; today was a day with some terrible odds. Everything somehow, some way, went completely wrong for you. You had been waiting for a date for a whole hour and a half, and they’d never arrived.

You felt so stupid for waiting there so long just for nothing. It made the man who was patrolling the streets very curious about you, even more so now that he saw your depressed facial expression. The man sucked up any thought that told him to not interfere and at a staggering 6’6”, walked into the café you’d been in. “Hey, do you mind if I join you?” the gentle giant asked. Your head whipped up and you wiped at your eyes with a napkin, “O-Oh…no not at all…” you say. The man nods and takes his seat in front of you, giving you a gentle smile from beneath the mask he wore over his mouth to conceal his identity while on patrol.

“Are you feeling alright? You seem very upset right now…I may be a stranger, but I do wish to allow you to have someone you can trust and talk with,” the man said as he tapped on the table with one finger. You remain silent, trying to recompose yourself for a moment before speaking. “I-I…I’m really not feeling alright…to be honest,” your voice has become a little strained as your throat tightens, “because my date totally bailed. And I feel so stupid.” The stranger looks at you with the most gentle, soft, and sad eyes you’d ever seen as he reaches out for your hand now. “That’s upsetting—I’m so sorry that happened to you…um…” he becomes bashful.

With his other hand, he fidgets with his hood for a moment before recomposing himself, “Would you mind if I was your date?” he asks, squeezing your hand tighter. Visibly flustering, you stare at him with wide eyes, “You want to make this a date? Truly?” The man nods, laughing nervously, “B-But if you don’t it’s okay! I will understand if you just need your time alone.” His voice, while anxious, is still as gentle as you expected it to be. A small laugh escapes your lips when you see how nervous he is, feeling a sense of ease at the sight. “Well, I’m not opposed to the idea,” you say, smiling.

Squeezing his hand, you see the man’s sad eyes twinkle with hope that he can actually make you feel better. He was determined to make you feel better and that’s what cheered you up a bit. “So…give me your name? I can’t just go on a date without knowing what to call you,” you say, teasing him a little bit. “O-Oh! Yes, okay…my name is König. A-And you?” The stranger you may now identify as “König” said, asking you the same thing. “You can call me Y/N…thank you for actually agreeing to be my date today…that’s really sweet of you for a stranger…” you say, complimenting him for being nice enough to be your date.

You could tell he was getting flustered, blushing enough to where his whole face was red. “W-Well, it’s my duty to be there for the people whenever they need me to be and…well, you looked like you needed someone to be there for you.” König says, wanting to make you feel appreciated and cared for. Now it was your turn to get flustered, and since he was able to see your face better, his perceptive sniper’s eye was able to catch the visible scrunch of your face as you pursed your lips for just a moment. “Heh…made you feel all warm, didn’t I?” König asks in a playful manner, tapping on the table again to see if you’ll repeat the rhythm like you had earlier.

Laughing softly, you shake off his flirting a bit and recompose yourself. Tapping against the table once more, the sad look in König’s eyes seems to go away now when he hears it and watches you do it. “Do you normally tap on tables like that?” The question is innocent nature, just wanting to get to know him better. “Ja, sometimes—it’s just a force of habit,” König sighs softly, looking at you with a different gaze now. One more, nervous and gentle at the same time. “Now I will admit…I have been watching you for a good bit…but not in a creepy way, okay?” he confesses, making your eyes widen just a bit.

Not a word comes out from you, and yet you decide to allow him to keep talking. Based on the expression he’s got, he’s desperately having a battle in his mind if he could keep saying what he was trying to tell you. “I was watching your expression change from so excited, to nervous, before becoming depressed once you realized what your date did…” König continues to confess. Hearing he had been watching you for the entire time and now seeing he was doing this to keep you company and make you feel better, all those feelings of dread washed away. This was a man you could feel safe with, despite his sudden appearance.

“I’ll admit, it sounded…pretty creepy, but—!” you begin to speak, stopping once you see König’s sad eyes somehow become sadder, “but, it was because you didn’t finish explaining. Am I allowed to ask what your line of work is?” you then ask, wanting to know more. He then perks up when you ask about him more, “I can’t give all the details, but we can just say I’m a soldier…from Austria. Where? It’s a surprise—well…” he trails off, laughing to himself a little, “more like a secret.” König teases before standing up. You’re a little confused when he does, but when König offers his hand to you, it just makes you smile.

“Come on, let’s change your plans up—last minute style. I know a good spot to enjoy someone’s company. It’s pretty romantic too, but a little far,” König says. Taking the chance with another random stranger today, you go for it by grabbing his hand and standing up. Taking your things with you in your other hand, you step out of the café together and begin to walk down the bustling city streets. You have no idea where König’s leading you, but for some reason, a lot of trust is being put into him right now. This man probably has the capability to fucking kill you considering his imposing stature…and yet he seems a little too nice to do so.

Maybe because you don’t pose a threat at all.

Eventually, König has led you to a nearby park, one you particularly liked due to its proximity to a forest with a trail that branched off into it. “Oooo, getting me to a secluded location, eh? What, gonna kill me?” You tease, making König look at you in disbelief. “What? Why would I do that? You’re too cute and nice to kill—you’re not one of my targets, so I’ll spare your life,” König says. His tone is a little too cheerful when he says this, making you feel a little nervous now. “Nobody should ever get that excited at the thought of telling someone they’re not the target he’s supposed to kill. Wait—he fucking said what?” Instantaneously, your brain speaks to all nerves and cells in your body; fight or flight seems to kick in.

“So your work is dangerous…” you whisper softly to yourself. “Not only that, but it’s a big secret. Be good for me and don’t say a word, okay?” König says, his voice still eerily cheerful. Your stomach drops a bit more once, making you stop dead in your tracks. “Hey, what’s the matter? Did I scare you? I’m sorry—truly I didn’t mean it…” König asks as he stops walking himself. In this moment, you turn yourself away from him to process what was going on. “Y/N…? Please look at me…” he pleads you softly, eyes filled with an apologetic gaze.

You slowly do as you’re told, your eyes meeting König’s. “l won’t bring you harm, okay? I can see you look scared but you’ll need to trust me—I’m a military man,” he speaks to you in a gentle tone, “and that’s all I can give about this. I have values, and don’t believe in the harm of someone who doesn’t deserve it.” König then cautiously reaches out for you, as if reaching for a frightened animal. Not a single muscle moves, keeping you completely frozen in place. Large, gentle hands then hold onto your shoulders in an attempt to let you know he was about to embrace you. He continues to move, pulling you into a hug.

You’d expected König’s body to feel cold and off putting as well as give you more reason to run away right now, but you don’t. He’s extremely warm in the cold autumn air, relaxing you enough to feel safe once again. You would stay this way for a whole minute, as König then tries to comfort you as best as he can to calm you down. “I promise you that I would never want to bring you harm,” he continues speaking, stroking the nape of your neck a little to reassure you. You then feel him take a deep breath before sighing shakily. It’s as if König was preparing to continue fighting for your trust.

“I…I was bullied a lot, as a kid. I can understand that fear of being hurt by people who barely know you…” He says, confessing to you a reason that would at least prove he won’t do anything to hurt you. You look up at König from his chest, and he looks down to meet your eyes. “If anything, I won’t let anybody hurt you. I want to protect you a lot, okay? I will do everything to make sure that nobody hurts you,” he says, voice filled with determination. König’s grip on you becomes tighter and more protective, clearly taking this seriously. Your body seems to heat up a little when he’s practically devoting himself to your safety.

Even if he had scared you, completely by accident, König wanted you to know you’re safe. “Th…thank you…I trust you to keep your word, alright König?” you say softly. König, feeling a little brave to trust you with his identity, then lowers the mask over his mouth so it rests on his chin to seal the deal. He’s got a few scars on his face, with one that lightly passes over his soft, plump lips. One of them appears to have just recently healed, scar protruding and a fleshy pink color. “Has anyone told you how handsome you are?” You suddenly flirt, making König blush a deep red. “N-No…because nobody’s ever really seen my entire face,” König mumbles, leaning down a little so you could get a better look.

His eyes were still soft and sad, giving you a look within what makes him care so much; pure affection. König feels a deep connection to you, and very much wants to keep it. “Meine Liebe…” he whispers in a hushed tone, plump lips slightly quivering from apprehensive breathing, “please let me be the one to care for you. I will comfort you and give you all the love and attention you deserve.” Your eyes stare into König’s deeply due to the proximity, yet only for a moment as they slowly flutter shut once you lean in to kiss him. His own eyes widen, becoming much softer as they fill with a profound sense of comfort for you. The two of you were only strangers, on a new date after your previous one failed, and yet you managed to have a heart to heart.

König’s eyes would flutter shut, breathing becoming slightly heavy as he kisses you back. His hands find their way to your back, pulling you into his body. Your own hands do the same, and the need for oxygen pulls the both of you away gently. Your eyes open simultaneously, and a soft breeze brushes past the surrounding trees. “I’ve never kissed on the first date before…that was sweet,” you whisper softly against König’s lips. He gives a gentle smile, “Good. I’m glad you liked it that much…are you feeling better?” König speaks to you in a delicate manner, concerned for how you’re currently feeling in the moment after what he had said. You smile simply smile and give him another peck on the lips, “Personally?”

“So much better.”

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter Two I Tell Me About You

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 2481

Warning: I have literally no clue how football works. Enemies to lovers. First Person. Minimal Y/N.

A/N: LMAO I LOVE THIS GIF One of my favorite chapters! Hope y'all are enjoying!

Prologue One

Nearing a year later, I was outside the club, again, in the early morning. After being regulated at the end of last season, I had blamed myself. Ted assured me that it wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Just bad luck. But I took it as a chance to do better. To be better.

But recently I’ve been having a mental blockage. I couldn’t picture myself playing the game anymore. I was struggling to coach and to train on my own. I know they hadn’t said anything, but I could tell the other coaches had noticed. With Nate being promoted I was worried that I was going to be let go or replaced. It didn’t go unnoticed to me that I was having the same insecurity that Jamie had been feeling before he left.

But still, here I was looking down the field trying to shove all those feelings of fear and insecurity aside so I could just train. I took a breath and closed my eyes, slowing my heart so I could focus on the game. With a deep intake of crisp morning air, I pulled back my foot and-

            “’Morning (Y/N)!”

I whiffed my foot right over the ball and stumbled a few feet before whipping around to see who caused the distraction.

            “Oh, good morning, Ted,” I sighed. There was no way I could be cross with him. I kicked the ball up into my hands.

            “Sorry, I didn’t interrupt you, did I?” Ted apologized as he approached.

            “No, no. I was just finishing up,” I conceded. I spun the ball in my hands wishing I could feel the same magnetism to it I had when I started the job.

Ted took a long look at me before speaking again. “Ya know… when I was little, I had this puzzle. I loved this puzzle more than anything. I would take it apart and put it together over and over, excited to see the same photo every time I put it together.  But one day, when I put it together, it felt off. Different. I tried everything to get that feeling back. The excitement to see that photo again. But eventually, I realized I had outgrown that puzzle. That it was time to move on.”

My stomach dropped. This was it, this was the moment he was going to tell me I was being let go.

            “Are you firing me, Ted?” I asked, my voice shaky with fear.

            “What? Oh, good heavens no!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. “Oh my god. You scared me. I thought that was what you were saying. With the whole puzzle metaphor.”

            “Yeah, I can see how you would think that, but most certainly not.” He chuckled and made a dramatic sweat wiping motion with his hand.

After our laughter died down a moment, I twisted the ball in my hands again before looking at him to continue. “What were you trying to say then?

            “I’m just saying that sometimes it time to try a new challenge,” he paused. “I wanted to get your thoughts on bringing Jamie back.”

My eyes widened in surprise. As far as I knew, Jamie wasn’t even an option. He had quite a fall from grace after he left Man City and had his brief stint on ‘Lust Conquers All’. Sam and Isaac had hosted quite a few watch parties to watch his floundering attempt at finding love on the dating show. As expected, he was kicked off early in the game after double crossing one of the girls on the show. It was fun to watch, especially after what he had said about me in the press.

Yesterday, Sam had come to me, showing me a photo of Ted and Jamie together. He was nervous about Jamie coming back, scared of how he might ruin the good vibes that the team had now with Ted in charge. But Ted had assured us both that Jamie was not coming back. He had told Jamie no. I couldn’t lie and say that brining back Jamie wouldn’t have its pluses. The boy was talented and that’s a fact. But was that talent enough to outweigh the team dynamic.

            “Jamie?” I echoed. “I thought you said that you had told him no.”

Ted shrugged sliding, his hands in his pockets. “I did. But it’s been nagging me anyways. He’s going through a tough spot right now.”

            “Oh, really, he’s going through a ‘tough spot’?” I couldn’t help but laugh.

            “I know, I know, but there is something different about him, I swear.” Ted continued. “It takes a lot for a guy like that to come asking for help. And I’m thinking he might deserve another chance.”

I skewed my lips to the side in thought. “Jamie is… talented. But you saw Sam. He wasn’t just angry he was scared. Scared of how Jamie would treat him when he came back. It’s not about talent. It’s about… personality.”

            “So, you think it’s a bad idea,” he clarified.

Is that what I was saying? The truth was bringing Jamie back could be just what we need to push forward in the league. Get out of the tie streak and start getting back to promotion. That, or we could be stuck in the Championship League forever. And I would be known as the coach that ruined AFC Richmond. But how could I know that if we didn’t try. Something had to change. I couldn’t just keep putting together the same puzzle, hoping it would excite me every time.

            “No, I don’t,” I decided, looking at Ted. “I think we just need to be careful.”

Ted sent me a dazzling smile. “Good, cause I’m putting you on Jamie duty.”

            “Jamie duty?”

            “Yeah, cause he’s coming back today!”

            “Today- TED!”

That’s how I got stuck waiting for Jamie in the locker room. Ted thought it would be a good idea to start him slow. Get the team used to him being back, make him earn his spot.  I leaned against the doorframe, waiting for him to finish changing. Out he came, bouncing from foot to foot, punching the air occasionally.

            “’Morning! Ready for a great day of trainin’” He exclaimed, seemingly unable to stop bouncing.

I didn’t react, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “Alright then, let’s go.”

I pushed myself off the wall and headed towards the pitch. But as I walked past him, he grabbed my arm and turned me around to face him.

            “Wait, before we go, I just wanted to tell you that I’m different now, yeah? I’m not a prick, like I was,” he told me sincerely.

I glanced between him and where his hand touched my arm. For some stupid, idiotic, unbelievable reason, it made my heart skip a beat. His eyes looked so desperate for me to hear him. I pursed my lips and gave him a sympathetic, albeit somewhat sarcastic smile.

            “Sure, Jamie, whatever you say.” I gave him a pat on his hand, signaling for him to let go. He withdrew his hand, looking for something more from me. A sign that I had forgiven him for everything. I rolled my eyes at him. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Practice was a mess to say the least. All the lads seemed determined to bring Jamie down as far as they could. Ted told me it was my job to make sure Jamie felt comfortable coming back to practice, but it was really hard when watching Colin and Sam take their revenge was just a little too sweet.

            “Hey (Y/N), why don’t you stick around a bit after practice, give Jamie some one-on-one training to get him back into the sense of what we’re doing around here,” Ted suggested after watching Jamie flub yet another pass.

            “You want me to what?!��� I blurted out before I had a chance to think.

            “Yeah! Just give him the run around. Ya’ know, literally!” He smiled at me, like it was the most amazing idea in the world. “Give you a chance to catch up on that personal training you missed this morning.” 

Ted was about to be ded. As in dead. This whole Jamie thing was HIS idea and yet here he was shoving it on me! He’s a shover.

            “Ooooh she’s looking at you with her angry eyes,” Beard cautioned, lowering his sunglasses.

            “That’s actually quite scary,” Nate chimed in.

            “Ted, I swear to god, I better not be your new puzzle,” I sneered at him.

            “New puzzle?” Nate questioned, turning to Beard.

            “Oh, the puzzle metaphor…” Beard whistled lowly. “He’s really trying something out.”

            “You know the puzzle metaphor?” I accused, narrowing my eyes at him.

            “Oh, yeah I know the puzzle metaphor.”

 “Woo, I love the puzzle metaphor, let’s get these kids in the showers!” Ted finally joined in. With that he walked forward, blowing his whistle to signify the end of training.

Then it was Jamie and me. I kicked the ball onto the field. Jamie, somehow, was still bouncing with energy.  

            “Did you see how they was treating me, (Y/N)?” he said, kicking the grass. “I’m trying me best here.”

I passed him the ball. “Score a goal.”

He backed up and readied himself. “I mean, I said I was sorry.”

With that he moved forward and kicked the ball, sending it flying on a beautiful arc to swish into the goal. I rolled him another ball.

            “Yes, you did,” I agreed, rolling him another ball. “Take 5 steps back and score again.”

He did as I instructed, stepping back to score again. “I just don’t know what else they want from meh.”

He moved forward and scored again. This time, however, the ball moved further to the left. Still in the goal, but drifting. I eyed where the ball landed. I rolled him another ball.

            “Another 5 steps,” I instructed. “Are you being serious right now?”

He took another five steps back before jogging forward and hitting another swish of a goal. This time it was even further to the left. “Yeah, I’m being serious. I’m still new at this whole nice thing.”

            “Go get the balls,” I told him. “So, you really just thought you would come back and say you’re sorry and everything would go back to the way it was?”

He jogged back with the balls. He kicked one towards me. “I mean… yeah?”

I studied the ball on the ground. Then I took three steps back, dragging my feet back as I did. Then I jaunted forward and kicked the ball, it flew through the air and swished into the center of the goal. Jamie starred at the ball.

            “You’re trying too hard, Jamie,” I explained to him. “Things aren’t going to go back to the way they were. And it shouldn’t.” I kicked a ball towards him. “You were a prick.”

He stops the ball. “What do you mean.”

            “Score a goal from there,” I told him. “I mean… do you actually know what you’re apologizing for?”

Jamie took a breath before sending the ball flying. “I mean, yeah. I was a dick. I said shitty things. I did shitty things.”

            “Do you know why I’m mad at you?” I asked him. I placed the ball on the ground and took a few steps back, dragging my feet again. The ball flew through the air and landed in the middle of the net again. Jamie looked between the ball and me.

            “How many times do I have to say that I was a prick,” he whined.

            “Go get the balls,” I shooed. “And always, you always have to say you were a prick.” He began jogging towards the goal. “And, you were a prick, but do you know why you should be sorry.”

The kicked the balls back in my direction. He furrowed his brows, thinking hard about it. I rolled my eyes at him while kicking the ball back, at nearly the halfway point of the field it was a long goal. I took a deep breath, taking three dragging steps backwards, then one step to the side.

            “You aren’t actually going to- “

I didn’t listen. I could see it. I visualized the ball and the opponents. I could see the clock ticking down as I set my feet in motion. Like slow motion, I kicked the ball and watched as it went soaring until it landed in the goal with a satisfying noise. I smirked.

            “Holy shit,” Jamie gapped. “That was like… really impressive.”

            “Jamie, I know. I’m fucking good at this. And I am the first female coach in the league. And every day I woke up with a million reasons why I shouldn’t have my job or come to work. I convinced myself every day that it would be worth it. And every day I you came up with another 20 reasons why I shouldn’t be here.” I kicked a ball up into my hands. “And you made sure to let me know that you thought you were better than me. Think about that.” I pressed the ball into his hands. “Score a goal.”

He took the ball from my hands and dropped it on the ground. He took a step backwards before kicking the ball. He missed, but just barely.

            “You need to plan where you hit the ball. The further back you go the further harder it is to get it in the goal,” I explained. He scoffed at me. “It becomes more important to really know where your boot hits the ball.” I placed the last ball on the ground and motioned for him to come stand next to me. “If you drag your feet, it gives your legs muscle memory. You’re more likely to get the ball where you want it to go.” He looked at me skeptically. I moved my hand in a swooping motion, presenting the ball to him. “Well, I’m not going to wait all day.”

He looked at the ball, then down to the goal. He mimicked my movement, backing up three steps with his feet dragging on the grass then one step over. Then he moved forward and kicked the ball. Swish. The middle of the goal.

            “Damn,” he sighed. I came up next to Jamie and stared at where the ball sat in the goal.

            “You made me feel like I didn’t deserve to be here. And that’s what I can’t forgive you for,” I stated, not looking at him. I could feel him turn to look at me, but I shook my head, feeling tears spring into my eyes. “Pick up the balls and go get showered.” With that I spun on my heel and walked inside, Jamie’s eyes burning on the back of my head.

[levans44]

Apartment #3 - Chapter 6

pairing: steve rogers x undercover!reader

warnings: 18+ SMUT*, Neighbors to Friends to Lovers, lots of angst, heavy mutual pining, hurt/comfort, eventual smut/romance/fluff

summary: as an undercover agent at SHIELD, her newest assignment involves moving in across the hall from her target. she's strictly ordered to keep her distance—no personal contact besides the absolutely necessary. the only issue? her new target neighbor turns out to be Captain America.

author's note: an idea that's been living in my head ever since steve asked sharon for that cup of coffee in their apartment hallway. as a SHIELD agent, the reader's real name has been [REDACTED] to preserve anonymity.

masterlist

taglist: @tsofo26 @yvonneeeee @cass0419 @nekoannie-chan @felicitylemon @nada3000 @rorilisa @observantplum-blog @strepsils123 @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @rorilisa

A loud ding from the timer marks 40 minutes.

She peers into her oven, nervously eyeing her little experiment—the best, fudgiest brownies EVER! as proclaimed by a complete stranger on the internet, but she figured that the thousands of likes and online reviews had to count for something,

She went all out for this particular recipe, fishing for ingredients she’s never even heard of—dutch processed cacao, single origin chocolate, maldon sea salt. Seeing as how she’s never really had luck with baking, she’s not sure why she had chosen such a complex recipe. And just to pack on the pressure, there was a lot riding on these particular brownies. It’s the only reason why, after the second time she knocks over the bag of flour while reaching for the whisk, she doesn’t give up, hastily wiping up the mess through gritted teeth. 

Because despite Fury’s orders to sustain minimal contact with her target, she could never stand to be in debt. 

And during these past few weeks, she’d been indebted to Steve in more ways than one.

With these brownies, she figured they were more or less even. 

One last time, and she could be done for good.

She waits impatiently, fingers drumming on the counter while the bake cools, before cutting up the brownies and draping some aluminum foil on top. She slides the tray off the counter and scoops it into her arms, balancing Steve’s thermos on top.

She slips out of her apartment and makes her way across the hall.

A tentative knock on apartment #4, then once more when no one responds after a little while. 

Must not be home. Great. She’ll just return his thermos some other time and take the brownies to work—it’ll earn her a few much-needed brownie points with her coworkers anyway. 

She’s just about to turn on her heels and head back across the hall, when she hears his door jerk open, revealing Steve in a white tank top and grey sweats. Her eyes falter for a second, a little taken aback by Steve’s unfamiliarly casual attire.

Eyes wide, he smiles, leaning forward with his palm resting on the door frame.

“Jess! Hey,” His brows furrow a little, eyes flitting down to the tray weighing down her arms. 

“Hey, Steve.” She nods, eyes still fixated on how relaxed he seems in his pajamas, before it suddenly sinks in that this might be his rare day off from work. The last thing he’d probably want is her company. 

She’s just about ready to thrust the brownies and thermos in his arms and run off, panic rising in her throat.

“Uhm, I’m just here to—“

“—hey, Steve, that the pizza guy?”

A male voice shouts from inside the apartment.

Shit, he’s got company. So definitely not a good time.

Steve swivels around, calling back to whoever is in his living room “Uh, no, Buck,  it’s my…”

He turns back to her, eyes hesitating with an unreadable emotion.  

“… my neighbor, Jess.” He finishes quietly. 

Though her heart already sinks at the mention of his name, her stomach churns a second time when she hears footsteps approach Steve’s side. And low and behold, there he was—the infamous Winter Soldier and Steve’s best friend. It’s the first time she’s seen Bucky Barnes in person, and he’s just as formidable as Steve at first glance—biceps bulging through a red Henley shirt, metal hand sticking out like a sore thumb under his sleeve, not concealed with the glove SHIELD advises him to wear during public outings. He immediately sticks his hand into the pocket of his jeans, surveying her reaction to see if she’d noticed. She feigns innocence, smiling politely.

Yet, not everything’s true to her memory. 

His hair’s a little shorter than how she’d pictured, and his eyes a little lighter, a strain of hazel running through the cool blue. Any lingering sense of intimidation dissolves when he smiles, casting a sideways glance at Steve then back down at her.

“So this is Jess, huh?” He smirks, leaning forward as he extends his flesh hand in greeting.

“Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”

‘So this is Jess.’

That, and the way Steve’s perks up at Bucky’s words, the tips of his ears blooming crimson, could only mean one thing. It’s a glaringly obvious truth that she tries oh-so-hard to avoid. 

Instead, she glances down sheepishly at the tray of brownies in her arms, then back up at Bucky’s extended hand. 

“Oh, hey, let me get that for you.” Steve quickly reaches forward, taking the tray from her arm. She shoots him an appreciative smile before tentatively taking Bucky’s hand, feeling more than overwhelmed by not one but two super soldiers now crowding the doorway. 

Bucky’s grip is more calloused than Steve’s, fingers shorter and thicker. His grip is just as strong and warm, though, and the charming grin he flashes her way leaves her wondering whether he’s just as… forward in meetings with other strangers. The rumor around her office had always painted him as the silent, brooding type. 

“I-I was just gonna return your thermos, and uh…” her voice falters, gaze trailing over to the way Bucky was leaning over the tray still in Steve’s hands, lifting the aluminum foil on top curiously. Bucky looks back down at her, smiling sheepishly. 

“Sorry, these smell amazing. Are they… shit, Steve, they’re brownies.”

“Buck.” Steve mutters, subtly nudging his best friend’s side as he angles the tray away.

“Yeah, I baked ‘em this morning.” She nods, giving Bucky an awkward smile. She tucks her hair behind her ear, shifting her weight between her feet. 

Her gaze trails over to the blonde, who’s giving her that familiar warm smile.

“You didn’t have to Jess, really. Thank you.” 

His gaze is so earnest, voice deep as he thanks her. She can only nod hastily in response, swallowing thickly.

Steve clears his throat, taking another step toward her, and gestures toward the apartment with his head. 

“Do you… do you wanna come in for a bit? Bucky and I were just about to put on a film.” 

And maybe it was the endearing way he still uses the word film instead of movie.

Or the way he seemed so different from his usual put-together look—hair light and soft, standing up in small, unruly peaks as if he hadn’t styled it since he’s woken up. A white sleeveless shirt, clad tightly across his pecs, grey sweats hanging low over his hips. 

Or, maybe, it was just his characteristic way of making an honest offer—warm and earnest, without any pretense of false politeness. 

Whatever the reason, she finds herself nodding, slipping past Bucky as he steps aside to let her inside.

Steve carefully sets the tray on his kitchen island, quietly chastising Bucky when he immediately starts to fiddle with the aluminum, trying to sneak a piece. She shuffles awkwardly around the kitchen island, so that there’s 40 inches of beige linoleum between her and the two super soldiers. She refrains from peering around the rest of the apartment out of politeness. From what appears in her peripheral vision, though, she can tell that the layout of his house is pretty much the same as her own.

“Those are for me, jerk.” Steve mutters quietly, the corner of his lip quirking up in a smile as Bucky’s starts to pull a slice off of the tray. 

“Sharing’s carin’ Stevie.” Bucky mumbles nonchalantly, 

Steve gives in with a joking sigh, leaning against the counter as he looks up at her, brows raised.

“Do you want a piece, Jess?” 

“Oh, no, I’m okay thank—“

“—holy shit.” She’s cut off by Bucky’s loud moan, holding up a corner piece with a large section already bitten off. 

“Fuck, that’s amazing, Steve. You gotta try it.”

Bucky chews as he glances up at her, eyes glinting under the kitchen light. He swallows, licking his lips before asking:

“You a baker, Jess?”

Steve lets out a quiet chuckle, walking around the counter and reaching for a roll of paper towels at the other end. 

“She’s a nurse, Buck.” 

Bucky’s brows raise at that, eyes lighting up with renewed interest as he sinks his teeth in, taking another bite.

“You must like saving people, then, huh? Like Stevie here.” He juts his elbow toward his friend, who rolls his eyes and shoots her an apologetic glance. She tries to stifle a smile, settling down in one of the kitchen bar stools, feeling a little more relaxed as the two Avengers continue to bicker bout how many pieces Bucky’s allowed to steal from Steve’s tray.

“Bucky’s right, though, Jess. This is phenomenal. How long have you been baking?”

The truthful answer would have been 5 hours. Instead, though, she gives him a smile, shrugging innocently as she answers:

“Not long. Started a couple years ago.”

She figured the whole ‘home-baker’ thing tracked with Jess’s character—alongside the whole wide-eyed, girl-next-door look.  

“So what movie are we watching?”

She asks nonchalantly—a clumsy attempt at shifting the conversation away from herself, but it works nonetheless.

Bucky sighs dramatically at the question, while Steve shoots him an amused glance.

“Well…” Bucky starts, picking up another brownie square before walking around the kitchen island toward the living room. 

“… Steve was trying to convince me to watch Star Wars with him.” He sighs nonchalantly, plopping down on the living room couch. 

And she can’t help but let out a surprised snort at that, hand immediately flying over to her mouth to stifle the noise. Mortified, she glances over sheepishly at Steve. 

Leaned forward with both palms on the kitchen counter, Steve looks up at her with a raised brow, a slight twitch in the corner of his lip.

“Sorry, I just… that’s the last movie I would’ve guessed for you.” She murmurs quietly, still stifling a smile.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Steve shoots back almost immediately, his lips breaking open in an amused grin.

“Well, it’s just, you know… kinda nerdy?”

Steve’s eyes flutter shut as he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. 

“That’s fair.”

From across the room, Bucky laughs too, scrolling carelessly through the TV channels as he tosses out a comment in their direction.

“Oh, you thought he was cool, Jess?”

She leans forward in her seat, staring directly into Steve’s eyes as a new sense of adoration blooms in her chest. 

Who would’ve thought that Captain America was secretly a geek?

She shrugs, a small smile tugging on her lips as she mutters:

"I'd like to think so."

And despite the fact that the rest of the night is filled with nothing but trivial moments, she feels the knot in her stomach growing tighter with each second she spends with Steve.

When he patted the spot on the couch next to him, gesturing for her to sit down, the fabric of his sweats brushing against her as he shifted to make room. The scent of soft oak and fresh linen as he occasionally leaned into her side, pointing out nerdy tidbits about the Star Wars franchise, eager to share the comforting alcove of fiction he’d found in the 21st century. 

Or even when the pizza delivery arrived and she finally got a peek at the box, discovering the name of his favorite pizza place. She had glanced over at Steve instinctively, lips stretched in a knowing smile as they exchanged a look completely unbeknownst to Bucky. 

With Steve, her heart beats immeasurably faster at the littlest of things.

And it fills her with more dread than she can bear. 

Apartment #3 Masterlist

note: aaaand after an eternity and a half, she finally makes an update. we've got some more shameless flirting coming up folks, brace yourselves

[captain-lessship]

Frozen Over Pt. 2

Trigger Warnings (Whole Work): Canon Typical Violence, Manipluation, Abuse, President Snow being President Snow, Eventual Character Death.

Content Warning (Chapter Specific): Jealousy

Friendship it was. Many years after his victory, you and him spent time together. Many memories of growing up involved him. It was easy to find time to be around him.

You recalled him interrupting one of your painting sessions by sneaking up behind you. You had started mapping out the huge arched window that was calling for you to paint it.

You jumped slightly when he grabbed your sides and attempted to tickle you. You rolled your eyes, “It is rude to interrupt an artist.”

Finnick looked at your painting, “I think it is missing something.”

You looked at him, annoyed and confused, “And what would it be missing, my crayons only friend?”

“A subject.” He noted, “All of the best art pieces have people in them.”

“Well, I don’t paint for other people.”

“But you always want to do the best in everything else.”

He had a point. When you got into something, you were into it.

“Who would I paint?”

“Me.”

You laughed, “Paint you? You’re already an art piece to other people.”

“Why not immortalize my charming good looks? I won’t be young for ever.”

You sighed, “Go sit on the windowsill.”

You and him could be seen running around the city when he was brought back for a visit. It stayed this way and you hoped it would continue to stay.

He was a favorite among many people in the Capital. He was very enthusiastic and entertaining. There was never a dull moment around him.

Just as you did then, you idolized and envied him. You wished that you were more like him for your reputations sake. Strong, cheerful, charismatic and attractive. Socializing came so easy to him meanwhile you often were looked over during conversation, many people deeming you a bore.

Many times you heard people say that something was wrong with you and how could someone from the capital be so dull.

Truth be told, you didn’t like looking like a cake decoration and preferred the simpler formal dress that your grandfather had you dressed in for many ceremonies. You liked to party but people being so… gluttonous ruined your mood.

You were sitting alone on the outskirts of this party, a birthday party for a capital big shot that apparently was your distant cousin.

Finnick was there. You could see and hear him, he was laughing and having a good time. Many people were swooning over him. A flare of jealousy came to you but you swallowed it down with your drink, cursing yourself. Finnick was your friend and here you were, wishing he would go away and you could take his place or that you had it in you to be beside him.

He was making his way to you. He wanted to see you, “Excuse me, I must go see Mr. Snow about a private matter.” He flashed his boyish smile and the guests that were flicked to him smiled, giggled and let him be. He sighed heavily once he was sure none of them were looking.

He walked to you, smiling. To him, you were hope that not all of the Capital citizens were borderline crazy and exceptionally wasteful.

“How are you doing?”

Your eyes cut up to him, “Oh the usual, dreadful but great at hiding it.”

In nine years of friendship, Finnick was well aware of your introverted disposition. He sat beside you, “You know, we could leave.”

You eyes gleamed, “We could.”

“We should.”

“What will we do?”

“Go for a walk, talk about what is new, and you tell me what is going on with next years games.”

You scoffed, “ I know what everyone else does. A Quarter Quell.”

He eyes you with the look that got him anything he wanted from you. You stood up, “Are we going for that walk?”

“We will.” He stood up and you picked a direction and started walking.

You looked up at the sky, all the lights dulled the stars but if you caught it before they all turned on, you could see them.

“You know, in my district, we can see all the stars.”

You smiled, “Must be nice. I want to see them.”

“I come visit you, you can come visit me.”

You laughed, “I would like to see you ask grandfather for permission.”

“You are a grown man! What’s the geezer going to do?”

You glared at him, “He isn’t a geezer. I know I am grown but I have a lot of responsibilities here.”

“Like what? Social networking? If so they need a new guy.” He nudged you with his arm.

You playfully rolled your eyes, “It’s not my fault I am bad at coin tosses.”

[teacupcollector]

A Helping Hand: Chapter 8

The Last of Us Masterlist Series Masterlist

A/N: Hello! I haven't updated this story in a long time! When I heard about the show I thought I might post. A/N: About the show. I have no way in watching it so this series will only be based on the games. I hope you understand. Summary: As a woman who is pregnant you are doing anything if it means survival. Even so you found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time, or was it the other way around? Now you are in the community of Jackson and you can’t help but attract a certain pair of hazel eyes.

Joel stared at you in the early hours of the morning. After last nights events he gave you a bath, lit some candles, and tried to make it as comfortable as possible. He made sure to give you enough love and reassurance through his actions where his words would be lacking. He hopes you know that you are the only one he wants. So as the sun comes over the horizon, the sun caressing you beautiful (Skin Color) skin memorizing the smooth and bumpy edges. Feeling the fine hairs that are along your arms and face. You opted to sleep naked that night, so now  he could see the plains of skin by just moving the blanket. Which he does, but not for something sexual. More for seeing how beautiful you look. He looks down at your swollen belly and runs his callused hands along your stomach. He scoots lower into the bed and places kisses on it. He feels the baby kick against his lips. He chuckles quietly.

"Shh... Mommy is sleeping." He whispers before planting more kisses along your stomach.

He looks up to see if you are awaken by his movements and is glad to see that you aren't. He places one final kiss at where he assumes the head of you- our child would be. 'Yes... I consider them my own...' He thinks to himself happily 'But would Y/N be okay with that?'. He gets up from the bed as gently as he can without jostling you awake. He quietly exits the room and shuts the door. He groans slightly as he heads down the stairs. He feels his stiffness leave as he is finally at the bottom of the steps. He decides to make you breakfast. Luckily, he got eggs a few days ago as well as some bacon. He hopes you like that. There is no juice unfortunately, but he is sure some water will suffice. He needs to make sure that both items are cooked thoroughly, but he hopes he makes it there in time to serve you breakfast in bed. As he is cooking he hears the back door open. 

"Ellie?" He asks and he here a small 'yeah' In response.

Ellie walks around the corner and leans against it. She is silent for a moment before looking in the direction of the stairs. She speaks. "How is she?"

"Had a bit of a rough night, but she is doing well I hope." He says as he sets on of the pieces of bacon on a napkin and scoots it toward her on the counter.

"And the baby?" She asks and he nods. "As far as I know yes. She has an appointment tomorrow." He says.

"Good, good..." She says quietly. Joel sighs as he finishes the bacon and moves on to the eggs. "I uh... I never really got your opinion before moving her in. I am sorry if it is an inconvenience for you."

Ellie's eyes widen. "N-No it isn't! It's completely fine... Keeps you off my back." She mumbles the last part. 

Joel laughs in response. "Yeah I guess it does..." He sighs again as he begins to scramble the eggs.  "I know you can take care of yourself. I just- I don't know. I want you safe." 

Ellie nods. "I know, but I'm fine okay?" Joel nods in response. 

Ellie leans over and takes the piece of bacon. "If you uh. If you ever need help when it comes to her and the baby. Let me know." She says and Joel chuckles.

"I think you would make a great big sister." Ellie turns to walk out the door but pauses at that statement. 

"I prefer the cool aunt." She says with a slight smile. 

Joel smiles back. "Cool aunt it is." He says and turns back to the eggs allowing Ellie to leave the conversation if she wants to.

Ellie does indeed leave but Joel is still smiling to himself. Progress was definitely made. Another blessing you seem to bring. He finishes the eggs and scoops them on to a plate before getting a bottle of water. He makes his way up the stairs and into the bedroom after figuring a way to open the door. As he opens it he sees you close your eyes quickly. He lets out a quiet chuckle. He walks over to your side of the bed and sets the food and the water bottle on the side table. He then sits at the edge of the bed. He can tell you are awake because of how forced your breath is being by attempting to make them even. He leans down as if to kiss you but moves over to your right ear. 

"I know you are awake (Y/N)." He says with a chuckle.

"No I'm not..." he hears you groan. "My eyes are closed so that means I'm asleep..." You mumble

"Then I'm guessing you don't want any of the bacon I made? I guess I could Ju-" He begins to reach over toward the plate when your hand catches his wrist.

"Mine..." You mumble. 

Joel chuckles and kisses your cheek before helping you sit up. "Now I know you like balancing things on your stomach, but the plate is hot okay?" 

You hum before placing the blanket over your stomach and bring the plate up to your mouth. "Make sure you drink some water okay?" He asks and you nod. 

He goes to stand up and walk over to his closet when you stop him. "Joel?"

"Yes?" He asks as he takes off his night shirt and begins to put one of his many flannels on.

"I want to apolo-" "There ain't no need for apologies. You had every right to worry." He says as he walks over and sits on the bed again.

"Just promise me that if and when you begin to have these thoughts that you talk to me alright?" He says and you smile and nod.

He places a kiss on your forehead before going back to his closet and getting some pants as well. He can feel your eyes on him and he chuckles.

"Whatcha starin' at?" He asks and you giggle at being caught in the act.

"I like your butt. Look forward to smacking and grabbing at it." You says with a maniacal laugh.

Joel's face flushes but he laughs as well as he pulls his jeans up.

"After breakfast do ya want to go for a walk?" He asks and you hum in response. "Mhm!"

Joel smiles before walking over to you and sitting down once again taking the plate from you. You begin to pout but he immediately begins feeding you.

"I'm pregnant Joel... Not disabled." You say with a blush. "Let me take care of my loves." He says as he feeds you a piece of bacon.

You snatch it out of his hand using your teeth before bumping it into his mouth. He chuckles before taking a bite of the opposite end, tearing a piece off before chewing and swallowing. "Let's keep the lady and the tramp stuff for spaghetti." He says with a chuckle. 

After breakfast he helps you get dressed and head out toward the direction of the square. "Now you tell me if you start gettin' tired we ca-" "Baby I'll let you know I promise. Now come on we need more groceries and I need to talk to Maria about a position in teaching. " You say with a smile

"You want to teach?" He asks and you nod.

"I guess she thought I would be a perfect fit, but I'd obviously wait until our little one is old enough to hold their head up. 

Joel pauses mid-step. "Ours?" He asks and this makes you pause.

"Oh shit... I'm sorry... I just assumed that it would be okay! I mean especially after last night! If you ar-" Joel cuts you off by placing a hand on your cheek.

His thumb caresses the apple of your cheek with a small smile. "I wasn't sure about it... About where we stand right now, but if you consider me apart of his life. You consider him mine as well as yours. Just know that... Just know that I am never letting you go."

Your eyes fill with tears. "They were yours the moment you kissed me a week ago... Possibly even before that... But of course we weren't together yet so I didn't want to push that on you." You say with a giggle.

Joel goes to reach in his pocket when you spot Maria. "Oh there she is! I'll meet up with you after I talk to her!" You quickly kiss him on the cheek before moving toward her.

Joel sighs before removing his hand from his pocket. The weight of the box is unbearable.

'Jesus Christ Joel... You have only been together for a week and you already have a ring... I'm moving to fast...'

Joel sighs and moves toward the market going into his other pocket to get the list of items. As he is doing that he hears someone call out to him. He looks up and sees Tommy jogging in his direction.

"Man what are you doing out here?" Tommy asks and Joel looks confused. "What?" He asks.

"Claire is hell bent on finding you Joel. I assumed you'd like to stay hidden." Tommy says and Joel sighs.

"Man I guess some things never change." Joel sighs as he glances over the list.

"How is Y/N? Did you uh... Did you tell her about Claire?" Tommy asks and Joel nods.

"Yeah, Yeah, I did. It wasn't exactly a fun conversation, but we are still holding strong." Joel says as his face grows from a frown  to a smile.

"You propose yet?" Tommy asks and Joel's eyes widen. 

"I-I um. I was thinkin' and it might be to soon." "To soon? You guys have been together for what? Three months? T-"

"We haven' been officially together for that long... I don't want her to  feel pressured..." Joel says as he becomes bashful.

"Didn't you say you didn't want to waste any more time?" Tommy asks and Joel nods.

"I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that she chose an old man to love... Now she considers her child to be ours. I don't know how to feel. But The feelings I do have are that I am insanely happy." Tommy's face turns into a full blown toothy smile.

"She is absolutely in love with you brother. I don't think she would have the ability to say no to you." Tommy says with a smile before looking over his brothers shoulder. He frowns.

"Shit, I'll run interference and give you time to get away... I'll talk to you later." Tommy says before walking away and toward to whom Joel assumed to be Claire.

'She is going to find me sooner or later... I don't know what I am going to say...' Joel thinks to himself as he continues to the market with the list in hand.

Taglist:

@gnoccey @zeida

[the-archxr]

she needed more than me

steve harrington x afab!reader

summary: i’m friendly and thoughtful and quite awfully pretty, but she needed more than me.

a/n: *gif isn’t mine, it’s from pinterest* I’m sorry, but this bitch is sad. I’m on my period and I’m very fucking emotional and I was craving some pining angst so here we are, I guess. based off of ‘illicit affairs’ by taylor swift, ‘she needs him’ by hers and ‘tears over beers’ by modern baseball. also if this does well, a smutty part two is in the very near future. (hint, it’s very fucking graphic.)

warnings: sadness; pure fucking heartache; one-sided pining; self-deprecation; obliviously in love; idiots in love; eventual fluff (the tooth-rotting kind); jealous!steve; best friends with benefits but it’s messy; just steve lamenting on how he loves you; swearing; mentions of sex, but nothing super explicit (I’m savin the goods for part two)

word count: 2.2k

main m.list | steve harrington m.list

join my taglist!

part two

•••

Steve Harrington has always needed you.

It’s a pathetic thought: the idea that the solution to one person’s problems is simply the presence of another. But it’s the truth. One of the hardest pills he’s had to swallow, and one of the harshest realities he’s had to live through. From the moment you saved him from those demodogs in senior year, to when you helped him look for a place after his parents kicked him out, he’s needed you. You’re the lifeline to his solitary island. The one constant in his new life that keeps him grounded, keeps him sane.

Steve Harrington will always need you.

But you don’t need him.

It’s a painful realization that he may never get used to. One that he knows he’ll never get used to. He’s been able to live with that knowledge, understands that you couldn’t possibly need him like that and he should be okay with that. But some days, when he’s lonely and hurt, and all he wants is you, that fact is a little hard to cope with.

Especially now.

You’re asleep by the time he’s done in the shower. The sounds of your falling breath rising over the faint noises of the tv alert him of the fact. His reflection in the mirror is foggy, distorted as a mop of brown hair falls over his eyes. The strained ache of his muscles releases with every roll of his shoulders as he inspects his neck. A bruise, a litter of discolouration dots his collarbones—a delightful constellation of where your mouth was and where he wanted you most. Even as his finger caresses the tendon in his neck, he can still feel the electricity of your mouth, the energy of your hand in his and your hot breath on his face. He could get lost in the feeling, he has on more than one occasion. It’s an addictive drug; a feeling of relaxation and ease that swirls around him in a thick, silently deadly fog. If he stays there and just takes a little longer to admire your work, maybe he could get lost in it all. In your spell. In this fantasy world, he’s created. The one he maintains and waters and cares for as it awaits your sporadic return.

The air-conditioning hits him, remaining beads of warm water freezing on his exposed skin as he tightened the towel around his waist. He steps into his room, standing still in the doorway as he looks around. Flashes of staticky blue and white and red paint the walls, the furniture, and your figure. You're lying on your stomach, naked back exposed to the light as the messy sheets rest on your hips.

You look peaceful. Safe, sound, and protected in the cocoon you’ve made of his bed. Turning the tv off, darkness overtakes the room. A swell of black drowning everything other than your face. You're illuminated by the moon filtering in through his window; soft curves and delicate features loosened as your body rises with every breath. Kicking the towel to the corner, he tugs on a pair of clean boxers before climbing into the space beside you.

He moves slowly, careful not to disturb you as he lies down, pulling the sheets up with him. He covers you first; the sight of goosebumps on your spine leading him to wrap you up as he tries to get comfortable.

Turning on his side, he takes a moment to look at you. Your face is squished into the pillow, creases forming on your cheek with the bunched-up fabric, hair falling everywhere.

You look so beautiful like this.

Granted, you’re always beautiful. Steve can’t remember when he looked at you and didn’t think you were utterly breathtaking. But right now, in your most vulnerable state, you feel safe with him. Safe enough to sleep beside him like it’s your typical routine. As though this is your home, and this is your bed, and the man beside you is yours. And that in and of itself is beautiful.

The idea of being yours is beautiful. It’s the desire for something he’s wanted for what seems like forever—the ability to love you in the way he wants. In a public display of love as opposed to a private affair. To show you that all the words he says when he’s on the verge of coming are real. That everything he promises in the heat of the moment, all those tender words and passionate kisses are for you. Only you.

Everything he is, and everything he does…it’s all for you.

It’s just that you don’t notice. Or maybe you do, and you just don’t bring it up. Whatever it is, it’s never addressed. You and Steve find solace in each other in the quiet, in the lonely moments where the nightmares become a little too real and you can’t possibly turn to anyone else.

It seems that whenever you show up on the other's doorstep with your hands in each other’s hair and hips rutting together, that’s the only time you allow yourselves to honestly want each other.

After all, you always say it. Right as Steve lines himself up at your entrance, head hung low with his hands on your hips, chest stuttering with anticipation. I want you.

You always want him then. You want him and his body and you want him to make you cum.

But Steve wants you in other ways, in ways he isn’t allowed.

So when he can, he indulges you. Guides you up to the peak and throws you over, only to walk you up all the way again. He hopes, although incredibly naively, that all those times he swallows your moans, every time he shudders as he feels you squeeze him in further, that it’s enough. He hopes that it’s enough to tell you everything he can’t, and won’t say.

He just…

He wants you to know.

He wants you to know that he’d carve his own heart out if it meant he’d get to keep yours; that he’d sacrifice himself a thousand times over if it kept you safe; that he’ll keep making love to you as long as he gets to see your pretty face because the sight of you coming is enough to make him say ‘I love you’.

Steve Harrington wants you to know that he needs you more than anything.

His blood, and his bones, and his body are all yours. There’s a golden tattoo, a brand on his heart, in large, loopy letters that spell out your name.

He’s yours.

But you’re someone else’s.

And he knows this. You weren’t exactly dating Rick, nothing set in stone or real enough for you to be monotonous.

But that moment, the teetering cliff of something else, was drawing closer.

Steve didn’t like Rick, though it was nothing against the guy himself.

He lived alone, in a nicer apartment than Steve’s just outside of Indianapolis. He had a nice car, a bank job that gave him a steady paycheck, money that he spent on you constantly. He had friends and a good relationship with his parents, full of weekend barbecues and restaurant outings he invited you to more than once.

You never said yes, but Steve could tell you would soon. With Rick, a 6’3 sight of tanned skin and warm eyes, it was only a matter of time. Because first came the gifts and the dates, then came the titles and the weekends at his house until you would eventually move in, with the promise of marriage and children and a large suburban house in your joined future. All the while Steve would be left in the rearview mirror. A broken pile of kicked-up dirt from your tires and a heart bloodied by your raging fist.

Everything was barreling toward an aggressive end; an agonizing conclusion to your relationship. The story of Steve’s demise and his replacement.

Rick was the one person who could take you away from Steve. The only person who could drag you away from this hell hole before Steve could even get a chance.

Except in hindsight, he can’t really blame Rick.

Because he considers that he’s already had a chance.

The universe has given him plenty of chances. There had been millions of little moments over the past three years for him to finally tell you everything. Even now. As he watches you sleep, with your hand subconsciously curling into his side as you snuggle closer to him, he wrestles with himself over possibilities and chances and miracles.

He could wake you up. Could kiss you in the way he’s been holding back, tell you just how much he fucking loves you before rolling into you until you’re coming all over him.

He’s had so many chances. So many times has the little voice in the back of his head told him to take the plunge. To leap into your gravity and kiss you in front of everyone, in front of Hawkins and the world, in front of Rick.

He’s not too sure if you’ve had sex with Rick yet. And really it’s not his business. But part of him can’t help but preen at the thought that you two haven’t; at the thought that he’s the only one you’ve been fucking. Ego spreads through his veins at the sight of his marks on your neck, on the bruises that adorn your breasts, and the way he memorized the feeling of your slick-covered thighs.

He’s been everywhere; over every stretch and dip of skin, from the tip of your head, down to your toes and to your pulsating cunt. There’s a map of his love, of his affection and his adoration decorating the alter of your body, and not once had he seen evidence of another partitioner.

Jealousy, possessiveness and pride lick at where his hand strokes your shoulder. Although all ugly emotions and feelings Steve knows you hate, he can’t help but pardon them.

Steve knows you in ways Rick never will. In ways, he never could.

Rick could give you the world. Give you a cushy house and money and stability and a life full of comfortability.

But Steve could give you love. Steve could give you his body and his soul promises beyond the physical as a sign of his devotion. Steve has given you his life. His attention. Gone are the days full of random dates, much to yours and Robin’s teasing. Steve has given you his heart. His home, the place where he lives and breathes you.

Everything is you.

And he’s sure, no matter how interested that dickwad might be, Rick will never need you the way Steve does.

You’ve rolled over onto your side, your left leg entangling itself with Steve’s as your head falls to the space beneath his chin. Warmth blooms within the cavity of his chest, rattling his ribs and his heart to the point where he’s sure you would wake up from the sound of beating alone.

A sense of sadness eats at his body as his arm comes to cradle your back. In the morning you’ll wake up, apologize to Steve over your ‘penchant for cuddling’ then get dressed for work as though it never happened. And he’ll shake his head, tell you it’s alright with a laugh even though you’ll never know the true extent of his words, before getting ready for his day.

Because he’s had countless opportunities. Hundreds of stolen glances, burning touches and desperate moments where he could be brave.

But bravery could lead to calamity. You might not want him the same way. And Steve knows you will never need him the way he needs you.

You need more than Steve Harrington.

But you're all he needs.

So as long as he gets to keep you if he has even the slightest chance of keeping a rope tethered between the two of you, he’ll take it. He’ll take whatever you can give him.

So for once, he indulges himself.

His head dips down to yours, a gentle press of his lips kissing the top of your head. You smell like vanilla and coconut, his detergent and his cologne—a concoction of scents he’s become accustomed to. The smell of home and sanctuary. Of hushed moans and pleasured groans, of laughter and silent whispers of 'I would die for you'.

His home.

Rolling onto his back, he tucks you under his arm, enough room to hold you close but let you go when you inevitably leave.

His eyes droop with sleep, tiredness beginning to finally possess his body as he melts into you. If he can’t have you the way he wants, he’ll take this.

Pressing another kiss to your nose, he closes his eyes and breathes you in one last time. He can feel the thrum of your life beneath his palms, and it’s that alone that makes him swoon. “…I love you, —, you know that?”

The last bit of weight lifts off of his chest at the confession, of the finality of being unleashed into the open without repercussions. You don’t respond, not that he expects you to.

But at least he gets to live in your silence.

At least he gets to pretend for just a little bit longer.

•••

Steve Harrington Taglist (+18)

@freaky-dcaky @spideyssunflower @detectivecarisi-1 @superfanmixromancepony @bookfrog242 @spectorfilms @serrendiipty @keepingitlokiii @v0idl1nq @blindedbyyourgrace17 @mrmoonman @emileebert14 @wordle233 @demirunner @randomlyblue @sad-innit @smarie7543 @scoopsahoyharrington @moonknightyws @imanilizabeth @gracie-marvel @liltimmyst @asbisexualasitgets @heihei2221 @thirstynymph @bludhavents

[tiniedemon]

— ♡

the waiting game | masterlist

completed

kyle broflovski / reader | smau

desc | the friend group had been around since elementary school, sharing an unbreakable bond. they were bonded by time itself, and it seemed as though they’d never split. that is, until feelings start arising and conflict begins. all because kyle and y/n couldn’t get over a crush they’d shared since high school.

cws | substance abuse, past child abuse, unrequited love, trauma, unhealthy coping, feminism, violence

gal pals | instagrams . twitters

the bros | instagrams . twitters

PARTS | one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen

extras | one two

nsfw special

spotify playlist . apple music playlist

apps used | photonote, memi message, twinotes, pinterest

hint: search “character status” to see what the characters are up to!

— ♡

[masterjedilenawrites]

In Other Words: Hold My Hand - Chapter 1

Weee look at me, starting another story when I have so many others left to finish 🙃 To be fair, I started this one a while ago and fully intended to get it off the ground sooner. But, you know, life. So after a sudden burst of creativity and motivation (while caught in throes of my Hux BS), here we are, chapter one ready to be released into the world. Just don't ask me when chapter two will come...

Part One: Hold My Hand

Chapter One

Hux x fem!reader | 2.4k words

Content warnings: Mention of torture/interrogation, mention of childhood abuse

It was a mystery how you'd ended up in this exact spot you currently found yourself in. The sequence of events themselves were fairly straightforward. There'd been an unexpected skirmish between some First Order troopers and your band of Resistance fighters; you and your best friend Nat had jumped foolishly into the fray despite only just having started your combat training; the Order had unsurprisingly cornered the two of you... and then, in what she probably thought to be a brilliant move, your friend had convinced the troopers you wanted to defect and join the Order. Then there was a week of nasty interrogation to ensure your stories matched up and held true. Somehow you'd both been cleared, and now here you were, standing outside the office of who would be your supervisor aboard The Finalizer, waiting to be summoned in.

What had happened was clear enough. The mystery was understanding why it had all happened. How could there possibly be good in the galaxy when it had devised such a series of unfortunate events to set you down right here, in the thick of all you despised? How could you possibly hope to improve that galaxy from here, or at the least simply benefit your own life? There was a reason espionage and spies weren't used against the First Order - a reason you'd tried repeatedly to explain to your stubborn friend to no avail.

Damn her, you grumbled to yourself, though you knew you didn't fully mean it. Sure, she'd had the idea, but you'd gone along with it. You couldn't make her shoulder all of the blame.

A swooshing sound accompanied the sudden opening of the door in front of you. You stood at attention, coming face to face with a young officer in a smart-looking hat. He clutched a datapad in the crook of his arm as if he were keeping it there on a time-out.

He didn't seem to notice your presence until he had already stepped out of the room and made to follow the hallway to the right. He paused in a second of surprise, and then made a little scoffing noise.

"He's in quite a mood," he said and gave you a knowing look, though you weren't sure what you were supposed to know by it. "Good luck."

He swiftly stalked off, leaving the doorway in front of you open to the office beyond. Fluorescent lights glowed from the ceilings inside, giving you a chance to scope out what you were walking into. Most of the room was bare up here by the door; too bare, like there was supposed to be more furniture but it had disappeared somehow. The back half of the room was more naturally filled. A large bookcase stood tall and proud along the back wall, boasting of thick tomes and unique trinkets. To the side was a low counter with a few liquor bottles and mixers. There was also a small box of some kind in the corner, with a carpeted top and a hole in the side. You weren't sure what it was for.

And placed before all of it, directly in the center, just before the threshold you now found yourself crossing, as if dividing the room between emptiness and warmth, was a large desk made of dark wood and brass furnishings. A lone chair sat in front of it for guests, while the office's owner sat in his own chair on the other side.

Hunched in his chair, was more like it. The position almost could have obscured his identity from you as you tried to get your nerves under control. But alas, the ginger hair still gave him away.

You choked.

"What," he drawled with annoyance, not bothering to look up from the work that occupied him on his desk.

Hux. The General Hux. The face of the First Order and all its terrifying advancements. He was to be your supervisor? What a cruel joke the universe was playing on you.

You stood in shocked silence, which seemed to annoy him further as he huffed and finally looked up. Whatever reproach he was prepared to give vanished as he took in your appearance.

"Who are you?" 

You swallowed hard under his gaze. Never in your life did you think you'd come face to face with this man, and now here you were, mere feet away, donning the uniform of his people and completely under his authority.

Oh you were going to kill your friend for this.

"I..." Your throat felt like it was constricting. Panic would soon overtake you if you didn't shake free of its grasp now. As you'd learned in your interrogation, it would not do to show any sign of weakness in this place, not even a bit of hesitancy. And you would need that strategy even more with General Hux watching you.

You cleared your throat quickly and straightened up further. "I believe I am to be your new assistant, sir. They sent me here to report for duty."

Hux regarded you for a moment and then leaned back in his chair with a quirked eyebrow. He didn't seem annoyed anymore, but there was a sort of sneering curiosity that took its place, and you weren't sure which you'd rather be dealing with in this moment.

"Ah, yes. Deserters from the Resistance. I was so surprised by the news, I had to see one of you for myself."

He paused to gauge your reaction, though you didn't have one. You were too preoccupied with keeping yourself standing upright in his presence.

"We don't get many rebels willing to join our ranks. Though when it does happen, it's always right at the moment they have a blaster to their heads. Curious, isn't it?"

You cleared your throat. "I suppose it is, sir."

"You will call me General," he said cooly.

"Yes, General," you obeyed promptly.

He studied you for a moment, no expression on his face to indicate anything he could be thinking. Surely he was suspicious of you; he'd be foolish not to be. And you suspected that's why you were to be his assistant. In case you were a spy of some sort. You'd be in proximity to a tempting amount of good intel, but wouldn't be able to do anything with it under the General's watchful gaze. He was clever one, you'd give him that.

Though what he was considering about you now was beyond you. Maybe he was changing his mind, saw the nerves you were so desperately trying to hide, deciding playing such a game with you wouldn't be worth the trouble.

"I expect an itinerary of the next day's events on my desk each evening by 8," he finally said. He quickly moved through his words as if he'd had to recite them numerous times, and you briefly wondered how many assistants this man had gone through before you finally realized you should probably be paying closer attention. "You will also maintain reports on the health of each department I oversee, filter any feedback or escalated concerns from the department heads, and share only the most important for my attention. You will accompany me to all non-confidential meetings and take down notes...."

He trailed off and sported a small smirk.

"Do you wish to take some down now?"

You quickly nodded, hating how he was already finding ways to subtly undercut your competency.

He opened a drawer and fished out a data pad, handing it over to you and gesturing to the opposite chair, all the while maintaining that smirk. You fiddled with the device and tried to quickly note down what he'd said so far. You could feel him watching you. Your fingers shook from the anxiety of it all.

When you finally looked up at him, his face was back into something more neutral. 

"Ready?" he asked softly. You realized he was being patient, an incredible relief to your nerves, so you tried for a smile with your response.

"Yes, General."

He nodded and continued, speaking almost a mile an hour as if through a well-rehearsed speech, and you did your best to keep pace. Your notes were a jumbled mess of various times and tasks, preferences and expectations. You hoped you'd be able to make sense of them later. One missed detail, and you suspected you'd be booted off the ship faster than you could say dank farrick.

"And finally," he said at last, and you couldn't help but let out the breath you'd been holding the past ten minutes, "this may go without saying but I shall state it anyway so we are perfectly clear. You will not be allowed access to outside communications."

He leveled a hard look at you, one that spoke volumes louder than his words.

"I have also waived your right to any leaves of absence. Until you have gained my full and complete trust."

You nodded, suspecting as much.

"And in all transparency, there is not a single soul in this galaxy who has managed to earn my full and complete trust. Do I make myself clear?"

You nodded again, unable to keep his gaze. A part of you was sinking at the thought. You were trapped aboard this ship. No sky, no sea, no trees. Just sterile walls and shiny floors and an endless expanse of empty space behind a viewport. You could very well die here and never feel sand beneath your toes again.

General Hux stood, and you quickly rose to match.

"That said, it will be to our mutual benefit for you to take this position seriously. I run a very tight ship so I expect nothing less than professional excellence from you."

"Yes, sir. General. Sorry. Yes, General."

He gave an almost imperceptible sigh through your flustering. You certainly weren't inspiring any confidence in your ability to do this job, not when you kept remembering how dangerously thin a line you walked here. And though you didn't exactly want to be here, you'd be damned if you were ever thought of as less than good enough.

"You are dismissed." He waved a hand as he sat back down again, his attention already returned to the stack of papers he'd been pouring over before your arrival. You were more than grateful to finally be allowed out of this situation. The emotions you'd been bottling in needed to be let out. You wasted no time in turning on your heel and scurrying away.

"Oh, one more thing," he said just before you could open the door to your freedom. "You'll be given the rank of Second Lieutenant. It means nothing other than to ensure you have proper security clearance to accompany me when needed. You can pick up your badge and insignia at the security office."

This information, as well as all you'd noted down, weighed on you as you finally made it out the door. You walked down the hall in a daze, not knowing where you were going, entirely too fixated on this bizarre situation you found yourself in. You were a Second Lieutenant aboard a First Order ship, serving directly under General Hux, and banned from even so much as glimpsing a life outside of this one. You'd never be able to see your friends or family again. In fact, you'd be helping fight against them now. Whatever service you performed for the General would be in service to the war he waged against your people.

You paused in your wandering to lean against the nearest wall, grateful that whatever part of the ship you were in didn't have much foot traffic. The side of your head rested against the cool steel walls and your eyes closed in a fight against the tears that threatened to burst forth. You focused on your breathing. In and out. In and out. No thinking, no feeling. Just breathe.

You stayed like this an undeterminable amount of time before slowly reopening your eyes and coming back to the present moment. How long the calming effects of your meditation would last, who knew, but at least you were now numb enough to get back to the tasks at hand. You'd need to find the security office. And your room, or bunks, or wherever they intended to have you sleep around here. And perhaps most importantly, you'd need to find your friend.

If not to ensure she was alright, than at least to give her a piece of your mind.

* * *

Hux watched as discreetly as he could the disappearing form of the woman who was to be his new assistant. Even after the door slid shut behind her, his gaze still lingered on the spot she had last been.

He'd come to expect timidness from all who found themselves in his presence these days. His reputation had grown quickly and held fast, much to his relief. He still felt like he'd came into this position, this war even, much too quickly to have any real sense of confidence about it. Not that he'd let anyone see, of course, which was why he was grateful he at least had the skill of being able to put on a good show, to mask the insecurities he privately fought. Years of abuse and neglect were to thank for that.

But this woman, this rebel-turned-deserter, was throwing him off. She had been timid, yes, but had also shown all the other telltale signs of someone wanting his approval. Compliance, politeness, even a bit of pride. As if she had been raised in an old Imperial household and came here to work her way up the ladder of power with the rest of them, but still viewing him with a sort of fearful reverence.

It perplexed him. To what end was she here? An honest wish to change sides seemed unlikely, which only left the option of her being a spy. But that didn't fit the facts well, either. As a spy, she'd either be a good actor and show no signs of fear, or she'd be terrible at keeping on a game face and have no tact at all. She displayed both. He didn't know what to make of her.

He sighed, realizing he'd been endlessly ruminating again, and as a result could feel that familiar tension of an oncoming headache in his forehead. He shook himself, as if that would dispel the strain, and tried to focus back on his work.

He'd made her his assistant for a reason, to keep an eye on her, and to an extent her friend. He'd figure out their intentions soon enough, he'd just need to interact with her more.

~ ~ ~

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[beetboxx]

the leather jacket effect - billy hargrove x reader

part one ; masterlist here

this is basically part 2 of “bea tries to write fics.” WARNINGS; language, smoking, billy hargrove being a little shit, bad summary

bad boy charmer and overall asshole billy hargrove arrives hawkins high and takes the spotlight almost immediately with his smug smile and handsome ass- face, i meant. handsome face. but it seems like his blue eyes are shining on you even in the brightest sunlight, with the sole purpose of annoying you and interrupting your smoke breaks.

you were never into the whole “good girl gone bad” trope. it was way too confining, and frankly, confusing. why would you change for a man because of the empty promise that he will love you for being a person you’re not? to be completely honest, being a prude is just fine for you! the girl next door can be.. just the girl next door.

and that’s how it should stay. hawkins high was a maze, to say the least. finding your place in the hierarchy of teens without being shoved into a locker or being the one shoving a fellow classmate into a locker was basically impossible. you weren’t popular, oh, not by any means. you were liked, but not loved. you weren’t a munson-freak type, but you weren’t a cunningham-prom-queen type either.

and you were fine with it. you were fine with being average, blending into the crowd easily and avoiding getting your head dunked in a toilet. you just needed to survive, get a good scholarship and get the hell out of hawkins. the weird shit that went down your last school year just reaffirmed your need to get out. you thought it would

keep you safe, out of danger, away from the path of dangerous people.

but, anyways. it was october, 1984. hawkins high had already been in session for a month or so, and like every other year, it was boring. nothing new, just some harder classes then the previous year and some mysterious events that everyone knew about, but hawkins would be damned if they talked about it. so it carried on.

but, there was something new in hawkins. word was, it was some new boy toy from cali for all the cheerleaders and clouds of hairspray and neon pink to gawk at. oh, and his little sister. boooorrrinng. you saw him that morning, when you stepped off the bus with your walkman and binders huddled in your arms as you scurried to first period. he had been there for a couple days and soon became the talk of the town. steve harrington had competition, apparently. and from the short view of him you had, all you knew is that he drove like an absolute piece of shit.

“god, he is like- totally a rob lowe type,” your friend announced to you as she caught up to you from the bus. of course it was cathy. she was a follower- whether she found this rob-lowe-type hot or not, it didn’t matter. everyone else said he was, so, it was just silently demanded of the hivemind to swoon.

you pulled down your headphones, clicking off your walkman with a sigh as you just shook your head at cathy and chuckled. her eyes widened like an excited puppy, throwing her teased and permed hair off her shoulder.

“no, seriously! he could for suree be in a movie. and that ass, tot-“

“alright, alright, i get the idea!” you interjected, laughing just a little bit more at her.

“nooo, (y/n), you don’t understand- i mean, look at him!” cathy exclaimed, pointing a bright pink painted finger across the parking lot. your head twisted, again with another sigh, expecting some average joe with an okay haircut.

and.. okay, maybe he was a bit more than that. he wore jeans, the kind that sat low on his hips and hugged his thighs, a hand lightly clutching a brown leather belt. you have to admit in that moment, he did have a nice ass. and a nice chest. and abs, you guessed, by the light outline you could see through a white t-shirt that clung to his tanned skin. earrings, curly blonde hair, sunglasses- all the tell tale signs of a heart breaker.

and a guy that you would have absolutely no chance with.

i mean, not that it mattered at all! you didn’t need or want the attention of some asshole. a very pretty asshole, for sure, but an asshole nonetheless. you had other things to worry about over the nice ass of some guy.

his head turned, just then, while you were just examining the heartthrob of hawkins, and for a second, a long second, as he took a drag of his cigarette, your eyes locked with his. you saw the corner of his lips tug into a smirk, his eyes following yours until your attention snapped in front of you, only to catch the tail end of a cathy ramble.

“… and like, it was so bogus! mr cavil totally screwed me over on that! ugh, i hate this stupid school so much. well, maybe just the teachers.”

“yeah, yeah. sorry that happened, cathy,” you said, as sympathetically as you could sound, guessing her teacher failed her or something. it happened often.

“oh, it’s whatever. hey, i’ll see you later, right? at that party i told you about?” cathy asked, her normal spark of enthusiasm impossible to fight a smile with.

“uh, i’ll- i’ll see. maybe. i don’t know if i’ll have homework or something-“

“-ohh, bullshit!” cathy exclaimed, shoving your shoulder playfully. “i know you have nothing to do. cmon, it’ll be funnn!”

you sighed. again.

“i’ll see, caths.”

cathy rolled her eyes, before they landed on some of her other friends. she said a quick bye and ran over to them, her hair bouncing. that girl never stopped moving.

you just kept walking, huffing out of your nose as you walked to your class. it was a routine. a routine that would continue for the next six months until you graduate, and you had no problem with that. routine is good, consistency is good.

so, you followed your usual routine for first period. it was a throwaway class, called “life skills,” which was just a 45 minute circuit of a bored old football coach who gave you a crossword puzzle and a worksheet on how to fill out a check. you finished in about 15 minutes, and then raised your hand to go to the bathroom. the coach never denied you. you had an A in his class the entire year.

then, you walked straight outside. the class was in the back of hawkins high, so you could slip out for a smoke without anyone noticing.

no one knew you smoked. everyone that paid attention to you labeled you as stiff and proper, a prude in some instances. but, this gave you a shield of who you truly were, your vulnerabilities. when dudes smoke, it’s cool and a symbol of strength and attractiveness. when the gals pull out a cig, it’s trashy and tacky, and you would rather be boring than to be seen as.. messy. you didn’t have the time to be judged. so, you let your shoulders relax and lean against the brick wall as you pulled out your lighter and your carton of cigarettes, plucking one out and placing it between your teeth as you lighted it.

it was a usual peaceful silence, a gentle october breeze that pushed the smoke to your side. it flew in patterns, swerving around in the air freely with the confidence you would never have. it was comforting, the smell of ash and burnt tobacco as it laid upon your tongue and pressed relaxation in your mind. everything was calm, in place, the same as-

“hey there.” a low voice let out from beside you, growing in volume as boots stepped on crushed leaves.

ah, shit. quickly and urgently, your only source of calmness was thrown to the ground, mushed on the concrete between a converse clad heel.

“woah, woah, chillax- i ain’t a snitch.”

you looked to your side, quickly identifying the low voice with a bit of a bite in it. it came from the same.. dickheaded camaro driver you saw this morning. ah, shit was right with your initial reaction. blue eyes laid upon you, his sunglasses from before school started hanging on his t-shirt. they weren’t kind eyes by any means, instead smug and cold, almost threatening in nature. he was definitely pretty, though. like, really pretty. light facial hair shadowed his chin and upper lip, surrounding the same plush pink lips pulled into a smirk.

“uh- yeah, whatever, i sho-“ you hurried out, crouching down to grab your bag.

“hey, hey,” he chuckled, putting out his hands, palm facing you, signaling you to stop from running. “what’s your hurry? i don’t bite.”

unless you want me to, you guessed. cliche line.

“.. unless you want me to,” he continued. gross. and predictable. that shit-eating smirk continued to adorn his stupid pretty face, morphing into an undoubtedly charming smile. of course he had perfect, white straight teeth.

“um- no thanks, i’m not-“

“billy,” he introduced, short and sweet and to the point. “you have a name? or should i just call you hot stuff?”

your lips parted, eyebrows furrowing into frustration and unease. this was weird, and definitely not in your schedule. this did not happen often, if ever. would he- this billy- stop interrupting you so you can get the hell out of here?

you sighed, clutching your bag to your side with a desire to leave. you could’ve, too. but it seemed like your feet were in the same trance as hawkins, casted by this billy character, unable to break free from the concrete you were placed in. you didn’t know if your cheeks were heating up from the sun or the intimidating presence in skinny jeans.

“is it- is it really important? i need to go to class,” you hurried, rocking back on your heel.

“i’m just here for a smoke. was hoping someone would join me- preferably someone with a pretty face,” he chuckled, himself leaning his back against the brick wall, a leg crossing over his ankle. “and it looks like i found that company.”

“i- i’m, listen, i’m not interested, okay?”

he clicked his tongue condescendingly, shaking his head as he laughed.

“you sure?”

“v-very.”

“you’re blushing,” he grinned, tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip.

“so? it’s hot,” you argued pointedly. “the- the weather that is.”

“aw, you had to specify?”

“i’m not- i didnt- i mean-“ you stammered, completely thrown off your balance. you were usually like, super chill! what was going on..? it’s like he was challenging you, seeing how long he could be a little shit before you turned around and left. but for some goddamn reason, you couldn’t.

maybe it was curiosity, or boredom. but- no! you couldn’t do this, he was interrupting your routine, and needed to stop. like, right now. instead, he looked at you with an overly smug grin, pulling out his own carton of cigarettes.

“you got a light?”

you sighed, and nodded a little, completely giving up. this was your white flag. you pulled out the little metal box, reaching out to hand it to him, but he just nudged his face forward, cigarette hanging out between his lips.

it took you a second to realize that he was asking- no, rather, demanding that you light it for him. you pursed your lips together, clenched your jaw, reluctantly flipping open the top of the lighter and allowing the flame to stand up. you lit the end of his cigarette, making sure to glare at him until he locked eye contact with you, forcing your hand to pull away and snap it shut, eyes looking right past him. you shoved the lighter in your bag.

“your name, sweetheart?” he asked slyly out of the corner of his lips, the other occupied by the lit cigarette.

you paused, swallowing down your fluster from moments before, and maybe some of your pride.

“(y/n). i- i really have to go,” you surrendered, finally gaining the ability to bend your knees and lift your legs off of the concrete.

“you’re no fun, (y/n),” he let out a huffy laugh, blowing smoke out of his mouth as he pulled the brown tip from his lips. he winked at you, seemingly releasing you from your spell, because then you scurried away from billy, finding the nearest entry to the school and hurrying into your life skills class.

they didn’t teach you to not bite the bait, did they?

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter Six I More Than A Crush

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warning: Drinking/getting drunk, a little bit of angst?

A/N: Thanks for 100 Followers yall! Tell me what you love most about this series so far!

Prologue One Two Three Four Five

A week passed and the team seemed to move on from Man City. Back to normal practices and games. Everyone moved on. But not me. I was still sat on the bus next to Jamie, who had requested me to sit next to him, feeling my head lull as I started to fall asleep. I was still laying my head on his shoulder at some point and his head laying on mine. I could still feel our legs tangled in the seat and our hands almost intertwining between us. I couldn’t have imagined all of that. Could I?

            “(Y/N)!”

Oh, right. I’m standing on the pitch passing the ball back and forth between Jamie and myself. I blinked myself back to the present and saw that Jamie was waiting for me to pass him the ball.

            “Got your head in the clouds today, ain’t ya,” he jabbed, his cocky smirk adorning his face.

I tried to force out a laugh kicking the ball back his way. “’Spose I do.”

Jamie seemed to notice my vacant mood and took the ball, kicking it around in a few tricks before responding.

            “How as your date with that bantr bloke? Ryan or whatever?”

Oh, right. That too. It was Keely’s idea, of course. After returning from Man City, you had told her everything and how you were hopelessly, horribly, terribly infatuated with Jamie. And while she maintained that you should tell him, she also offered the idea of going on bantr dates to get him off my mind. What’s where Brian had come in.

            “Brian? Oh yeah, he was great!” That was a lie. Brian was dull. Barely asking me a question the entire night and when he found out I worked for Richmond, he suddenly needed perked up and told me all about his long history with football. Suddenly, he thought that coming to a game would be a great second date. Suddenly, he was wondering if I could get him in for free. So no, Brian was not great. “I’m going out with this other guy… Ethan, tonight though.”

Jamie raised his eyebrows at me before shooting the ball back towards me. “Ethan, huh?”

            “Yeah… Ethan.” I kicked the ball back towards him, chewing on my cheek. “He’s an accountant, I think.”

            “An accountant,” Jamie cringed. “What the fuck are you doing goin’ out with an accountant?”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “He seems nice! That’s all!”

Jamie kicked the ball up in his hands, starting to walk over to me. “Nice? That’s all?”

            “Look, Jamie, I don’t exactly have a lot of choices.,” I pointed out, yanking the ball out of his hands.

“I just thought you could do better than ‘nice’ is all.” He held up his hands in submission. As we started out walk back inside, Jamie stared at the ground, his feet kicking the dirt as we went. “Where are you goin’?”

“Color Factor? It’s a dancing club not too far from here,” I told him. I wasn’t usually one to go dancing on a first date, but I thought it would be better to not actually be able to hear him talk. Afraid of a repeat from the night before.

“An accountant is taking you to a dance club?!” Jamie asked, stopping outside the door.

We finally made it into the locker room as the other lads were beginning to show up. I headed to my desk in the corner of the coach’s room. Ted and Beard were having an intense staring contest when I entered. I snapped my fingers, in front of Beard’s face causing him to blink.

            “DAMMIT! (Y/N)!” He shouted, smacking his desk.

            “I could see the dust settling on your pupils,” I told him, slouching down into my chair.

Ted checked his watch with a large smile. “That was a new record for me! Thank you for the assist, (Y/N).”

It was nice having Ted and Beard as friends. It was different from my relationship with the boys or even with Roy. Sure, they were older, but they respected me in a way I hadn’t experienced before. They didn’t care that I was younger or that I was a girl, to them I was just their equal.

            “So! Tell us about Brian,” Ted asked, putting his head in his hands and blinking cutely.

 “He was fine, the conversation was a bit one sided,” I admitted, shrugging. “When I mentioned I worked here he started asking for tickets.” Beard blew a raspberry and gave me a big thumbs down. “My thoughts exactly.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Ted sympathized, giving me his best frowny face.

I gave him a flat smile in return. Training went well. It was good to be back in our routine, prepping for our normal competitors. Now that we had broken our tie streak, we had been doing pretty well. With Roy on our staff, it really felt like we had our groove going.

What wasn’t grooving though, was Nate’s sudden confidence boost. If confidence was what you could call it. Some might call it arrogance, but I was not one to judge. Ted paired us together today to work with the lads. The starting mids and forwards. So, Jamie, Danny, Colin, and Richard to name a few.

We set up a few drills for them to preform to strengthen their endurance as well as their aim while moving. It was a maneuver where they had to move to the left while shooting to the right. Nothing too terribly difficult but it required a good amount of coordination and precision. After another stumble by Richard, I blew my whistle signaling them to stop. I was about to turn to Nate to say something, but he stepped forward before we could confer.

            “Richard! Have you lost your ability to run at high speeds?” He shouted, approaching the boys. “Has your right leg fallen off and grown back as a second left food?”

            “No, my legs are gorgeous, as always,” Richard retorted, kicking his foot in the grass.

            “Well, you could have had me fooled,” Nate spat back. “This is simple football, next time I see you stumble you’ll be running laps for the rest of practice.”

Richard frowned, his face darkening in disappointment. The rest of the boys looked uncomfortable as well. None of them were achieving well in the practice and the thought of being bereted for learning a new skill is never good. I knew I had to step in.

            “Alright, Nate.” I placed my hand on his shoulder and pulled him back lightly. “Richard, you’re second guessing yourself before you make the pass. It’s causing your footing to be misplaced.” I began to show him the footing myself, step, cross, step, kick. Richard watched intently. “You need to really land that step before the kick, that’s where the power comes from.”

I looked over the group of boys, looking for any signs of questioning among them. They all stared unwavering at me, really listening to what I was saying. My eyes eventually landed on Jamie. He, of course, was having no issue with the exercise. Though, that may be, in part, due to me showing it to him during one of our early morning practices together. But, in this instance, I helped for a teaching moment.

            “Jamie!” I called out to him. “Why don’t you show them your technique.”

            “I think you should do it,” He responded quickly, quirking his eyebrow at me. “You’re the expert.”

I opened my mouth to shoot back a quick response but quickly closed my mouth into a straight line. He knew I was dying to show off my football abilities. He knew I was capable. He knew I was the best one to show them. I heard a scoff to my left and knew it was the unbelieving thoughts of Nate coming out. Jamie shot him a quick glance before locking his eyes with me again, and quirking his slitted eyebrow at me, challenging.

            “Okay.”

I stepped forward and took control of the ball in my dribble. Passed the ball over to Jamie to assist and started to jog right before quickly changing direction and heading left. Jamie passed the ball heading towards the right of the field. As it came towards me, I focused on my footing. Step, Step, Cross, step and… kick! I sent the ball through the air without missing a step, sending it flying towards the right side of the goal and landing with a swish. The boys behind me rushed me with cries of celebration. As if I had just scored the winning goal of a match. I couldn’t help the giddy laugh that left me as they jumped on me.

Through the celebration huddle, however, I saw Nate, unmoving from his spot near the sidelines of the field. The scathing look of underlying anger was enough to send anyone running. I started to frown but then Jamie’s face filled my view. His smiled was so blinding I almost had to look away. But I couldn’t. ‘I told you so’ was written all over his smug face as he clapped along with the lads. Man, I loved it here.

…

I felt good going into my date. I was riding the confidence wave from the day into the club. I was early, of course, as I always am, and I went up to the bar to wait for him to arrive. It was still pretty early in the night so not many people were there yet. I sent a quick text to Keely letting her know I had arrived and was okay. She sent me a quick reply letting me know she knew I looked gorgeous and that it was going to be great!

            “Can I get you something?” The bartend behind me asked, washing a cup.

            “Oh! No thank you, I’m waiting on someone!” I explained to him taking a seat on one of the stools. He nodded and walked off.

But then 8 o’clock came around and he didn’t show. Then 8:10, and 8:30 and no word. I refreshed my messages on the app, looking for any sign of why he wasn’t here yet but there was nothing. Every now and then the bartend would come back to ask me if I wanted to order anything, but I insisted on waiting.

Eventually I sent him a message asking him if everything was alright. Read, no reply. Fuck.

Around 9, the bartender placed a drink in front of me.

            “What is this?” I pulled the drink towards me, not really waiting for an answer.

            “It’s on the house,” he told me, a sympathetic look on his face. “Sorry about your dude.”

Ah! Love a good sympathy drink. But at this point, I was too frustrated to care and took a long sip of the drink. The club was becoming more packed with people and the music was turning up. I took one last look at my phone, begging for him to say something, but nothing ever came so I decided it was time to go.

I downed the rest of my drink, thanked the bartender, and hopped off my stool. I had almost made it out when I heard a voice call my name from behind me. It was so loud so I couldn’t quite make out the owner of the voice, so I looked around trying to see where it was coming from.

Out of crowd, Jamie fucking Tartt appeared. He had his hair down and was wearing a Hawaiian shirt on that was open to about halfway down his chest and God did he look amazing. I hate to fight to make sure my eyes didn’t roam down his body as he approached me.

            “Jamie? What are you doing here?”

 “You mentioned it earlier, so I wanted to check it out.” He shrugged, bringing his beer bottle to his lip. “You look fit, where’s the bloke you’re with?”

            “Oh!” I looked around like I was trying to find him. “He’s… uh, oh right! He didn’t show up so I- “

            “He what?” Jamie practically spit out his drink at me. “He didn’t come?”

I tried to play it off like I was cool, but I could feel the embarrassment heating up in my cheeks. Jamie was the one person I didn’t want to see right now. He looked so fucking good, and it was making it very hard for me to focus on anything except his gorgeous face.

            “Yeah, uh… it’s been like… an hour,” I told him, trying to sound unbothered. “So, I was just heading out.

            “Well, that’s stupid of him,” Jamie snorted.

I waved him off. “No! It’s fine! I’m fine. It’s all fine! I’m just gonna go home. I need to get rest anyways… got training tomorrow, ya know? Shouldn’t have even come in the first place. I mean like! Ahh! It’s so crazy, are you hot, it’s really hot in here?”

Jamie stared at me while I rambled until I eventually tapered off into an uncomfortable silence.

            “You should come with us,” Jamie finally said.

            “Us?”

            “Yeah, I’m here with Isaac, Colin… uh, I think Dani is here as well.” He turned and pointed into the dance floor where, somewhere, the rest of the lads were. “They’d love to have you join us.”

            “I don’t know, Jamie… I’m not… I’m not sure if I’m feeling up to it,” I admitted, looking towards the door.

            “Please.” He reached out to turn me back to face him. “You look fit as fuck and you deserve to come have some fun with us.” Now my face was flush for sure. If it wasn’t the heat, it was the fact that Jamie was touching me and calling me fit. I bit my lip as I weighed my options.

His hand slide down to my hand as he started to pull me into the crowd.  “Look, if you stay and, somehow, you don’t have fun, you can blame me later, alright?”

I let him pull me, finding a smile coming back over my face. He looked so excited as his hand gripped mine, pulling me through the throngs of people. I felt myself getting swept away in him and for a second I let myself. I squeezed his hand.

            “Fine, fine, let’s do it.”

He cheered and turned around, not letting go of my hand and started leading me through the crowd. Eventually, we came into a smaller opening where Isaac and Colin were dancing. Dani wasn’t too far away, two women dancing quite close to him.

            “Lads!” He called out, pull me up to stand next to him. “Look who I found!”

The boys cheered when they saw me. Raising their beers and various other drinks towards me.

            “(Y/N)!” Colin cried, coming forward to hug me. Jamie finally let go of my hand to let me go to him and suddenly, I felt very cold. “So, glad to see you here!”

Luckily, they didn’t ask too many questions about what I was doing there, and Jamie didn’t give anything away. In face Jamie stayed by my side practically the whole night. Just for tonight, I decided to let him be mine. All his attention was on me as we dance with each other. Finding myself getting pressed closer and closer to him as more people entered the dance floor.

Throughout the night, the boys made sure I had a good time, suppling me with drinks and not allowing me to pay. But Jamie kept special attention to me. He constantly was making sure I was okay and warded off anyone who tried to approach me.

His eyes being on me felt so surreal. Like somehow, all those emotions that had bubbled over last week were being cleared up in his gaze. At some point, someone bumped me into him, I found myself falling into him.

            “Woah!” He helped me steady myself, his hands falling on my waist mine on his chest. I looked up at him, my mouth suddenly going dry. “You alright?”

I couldn’t speak so I just nodded and pulled my hands from his chest. But his lingered on my waist as he started to sway to the music. My eyes were big as I looked up at him and he looked down at me. He was so close to me; it would be so easy for me to lean up and kiss him. The liquor in my system definitely was egging me on as my hands landed on his biceps, God had they always been so solid? My eyes darted down to his lips and a smirk came over his face. For an instant we were leaning into each other, and the music was fading away.

When suddenly, a hand was on my shoulder yanking me away from Jamie.

            “(Y/N)! I love this song!”

I was going to kill Colin. But he didn’t seem to notice my glare as he started dancing to the song that was playing. I looked back at Jamie, who wouldn’t look anywhere near me, and felt my heart sink.

Maybe we really weren’t meant to be.

…

The night was pretty much over after that. Jamie ended up driving all of us home and we piled into his car. I ended up in the back with Colin’s head on my shoulder as he took us throughout the city dropping us off.

Finally, though it was just the two of us.

            “I’m sorry, by the way, about Ethan.”

Oh, that! I had forgotten about that.

            “It’s whatever.” I shrugged, slumping down in my seat, suddenly very intrigued with the window buttons. “Nothing I’m not used to.”

Jamie chewed on his thumb as he considered my words. “What’s that mean?”

            “I mean,” I let out a long breath. “I’m just like that, I guess. Not people’s type?” When Jamie didn’t say anything, I continued. “Brian just liked me for my job, Ethan probably showed up got one look at me and left and you-" I caught myself, almost saying too much to the wrong person. I was surprised at my own candor, chalking it up to the alcohol in my system. “I’m just saying people don’t like me like that. That’s how it’s always been.”

It was silent for a while after that, and I felt myself falling asleep to the steady rumble of the road. Eventually we pulled up outside my apartment building.  I sat up in my chair, rubbing my eyes.

            “I think that’s stupid,” Jamie finally spoke.

            “Huh?”

            “I think that’s stupid,” he repeated, looking over at me. “That you think that.”

I frowned. I hadn’t meant to upset him. I had just learned to lower my expectations when it came to romance to save myself a lot of pain.

            “Jamie, it’s nothing personal.” I found myself unable to meet his eyes. “I just know what to expect now.”

            “Well, I think you deserve fucking lightening.”

I snapped my head back over to him. He was looking at me earnestly, a soft frown lining his cheeks. Suddenly, I was much more sober and knew that if I didn’t leave now I wouldn’t be leaving the car at all.

            “Thank you, Jamie,” I decided on, speaking softly. “Thank you for everything… tonight.” I let myself sit in his car for a moment longer before tearing my face away from him. “I’ll um… I’ll see you tomorrow morning, right?”

That made Jamie smile. “I’d like to see you try and beat me hung over.”

            “I’ve done it before,” I laughed, opening the car door. “Don’t count me out!”

            “I never do,” he replied, sincerely.

That dumb butterfly began fluttering up in my stomach again.

            “Goodnight, Jamie.”

            “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

And with that, I closed the door and watched as he drove off down the street.

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