#hands up whos getting emotional about the prologue again

[vivalas-vega]

new perspectives // part eleven // jake 'hangman seresin x reader

boy oh boy -- I've been working on this part since I posted the last one (and mind you... this version of it I wrote and completed within the last three hours - there's about 10,000 additional words with different versions of this) - I just could not figure out how to continue it and I don't know if I'm happy with it fully but here it is !! this one is more focused on Rooster and Jupiter and their friendship because I haven't gone as in depth with it as I would have liked in past chapters. as always - please let me know what you think !!

new perspectives // part eleven // jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten

add yourself to my taglist

word count: 4.1k

warnings: mentions of war (but nothing too detailed), mentions of gunshot wounds (again, nothing too detailed), slight suggestiveness at the end

The stars above Rooster, twinkling and shining, served as some kind of mockery as he sat on the beach and looked for constellations, though he wasn’t finding any because he wasn’t trying very hard. He wished he could be in his jet right now, wished he could feel the controls in his hands and see the earth below him because maybe then this wouldn’t be so scary, maybe he wouldn’t feel so helpless. 

There was just enough alcohol coursing through his veins for the weight of his emotions to get on top of him, but not enough to forget what he’d heard entirely. He knew what his job was right now. Your last request of him, bestowed not too far from where he was sitting with that sweet smile of yours and eyes full of stars, had been replaying on a loop for the past few hours. Take care of them for me, take care of him. You knew they were equipped to handle this, their lives weren’t all that different from the one you were currently living but there was one key difference that was not lost on anybody… while they were too high above the chaos to truly see, you were down in the middle of it all. While they may have been equipped to handle a friend's deployment, they weren’t all that prepared to think of you as the boots on the ground.

Take care of them for me, take care of him. You knew eventually things would catch up, that the reality of your absence would set in and that when it did they’d need you… and the next best thing was Rooster. You were always thinking eight steps ahead, it’s what made you a good friend and a good doctor, but right about now Rooster found it infuriating. You saw those eight steps ahead, you saw this getting on top of everyone at one point or another, and you made it Rooster’s problem. You knew Jake wouldn’t be able to offer much through his own worry and you wouldn’t have expected him to, but you expected it of Rooster.  

He found himself wishing you’d never connected, never bonded. He wished he hadn’t played Drops of Jupiter that very first night, hadn’t harmonized with you and pulled you out of your shell simply because he couldn’t help himself. He wished he hadn’t offered to tour houses on your behalf, hadn’t spent countless hours working alongside you to bring your vision to life. He wished you’d never looked his way because you saw him in a way that was terrifying, you understood him and you pushed him. You pushed him further in his rekindling with Maverick, and you pushed him right into Eliza’s arms because you knew what he needed and what he wanted.

He wished he’d never realized his infatuation with you wasn’t romantic, because maybe if he’d chalked it up to being an asshole with secret feelings for someone who belonged to the man who saved his life he wouldn’t be sitting here right now with worry eating a hole through his stomach. Maybe he would have distanced himself from you, kept things cordial and casual to protect his own heart, but he did realize. He did see that it wasn’t romantic and it never was, he was simply misreading his own emotions because he’d never had a friend like you before. He’d never admit it in the light of day because he found such terms ridiculous but you were his platonic soulmate, through and through. And right about now he wished he’d never figured that out.

He wished none of it had ever happened, because here he was sitting on the beach feeling so utterly helpless because you’d bestowed an impossible task on him and he couldn’t even be mad at you because he’d heard it. One minute he was telling you he loved you, on his way back into the bar to give you space with the man you really needed, the next you were under fire… and you seemed calm. In the face of it all, your tone hadn’t changed, your disposition hadn’t changed. You’d told Jake you loved him without an ounce of fear or apprehension in your tone and hung up, because this was a common occurrence for you now. In the face of it all, you were fine, and here he was sitting on the beach struggling to keep it together.

Except, he didn't wish any of those things at all because you were you, and he couldn't imagine not having you in his life. And so he was trying, because that’s what you’d asked of him. If you could do the impossible, if you could save lives with those two little hands of yours under gunfire or worse, he  could keep it together. He could do what you asked of him. He’d remain calm and collected, his usual goofy self to keep the anxiety at bay the best he could, because that’s what you needed. You’d asked for them, but really you’d asked for yourself. You needed to know Rooster was looking out for them so you didn’t have to worry, because you had enough to worry about. 

And that’s exactly what he did… he went back into the bar and got Jake a fresh drink, set him up in front of the dartboard with Coyote. He’d filled everyone in on what happened. She’ll be fine, this is her life now and she’s Jupiter. She’ll be fine and so will we because she doesn’t want us spinning out, she wants us here having fun with each other so that’s what we’re going to do.

And then he’d lingered, made sure everyone made it home safely and wandered out onto the beach to look at the stars and feel everything he knew you didn’t want him to. “There’s only so much you can ask of me, JJ,” he whispered to himself as he took in the mass of twinkling lights above him because he was choosing to believe you were under this sky too, and though you couldn’t hear him, maybe you could feel it. You could feel that he was keeping up his end of the promise, and that you needed to keep up yours. 

“I know I haven’t talked to you in a while dad, but… well, if you’ve been paying attention I don’t need to fill you in,” he started, openly talking into the night air because this was what he did. When it all got to be too much, when things started to get on top of him he looked to the sky and talked to Goose. “I don’t know if you’ve got any connections up there, I hope you didn’t use them all up sending Hangman after me and Mav but… she needs to come home. Please don’t let what happened to mom happen to Jake,” he said, choking on his words before clearing his throat. “Please don’t let what happened to Maverick happen to me. She’s my best friend, and I… I can’t lose her. Jake can’t lose her. None of us can.”

He was pleading because he knew he was right, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to uphold his promise to you if you didn’t come home. He wouldn’t be able to take care of Jake, or Coyote, or Phoenix… he wouldn’t be able to take care of himself. You swooped in as this mysterious old friend of Hangman’s and won everyone over in the course of an evening, and you only grew more important with each passing day. They’d all been friends before you, but in the wake of you they became a family. You were the glue, you were the last to join the group but you became the nexus, and if they lost you he didn’t know what would happen. He didn’t want to find out.

So he let himself cry, let a few tears slip before saying goodbye to his old man and packing it down. He couldn’t let himself spiral any more than he already had, and he couldn’t have you coming home to realize he hadn’t kept his promise when you’d kept yours. He spent the next day and a half being Rooster, he was goofy and borderline annoying but he kept everyone together, he made sure everyone kept their spirits high and their worry to a minimum, and he made sure Jake got out of bed. He did what he could, and in the end it was everything because there the squad was with beers in their hands and smiles on their faces as they watched Jake kick Coyote’s ass, because even though he was falling apart and he didn’t know if you were even alive, he’d never give anyone the satisfaction of ousting him at his own pool table.

“Any word?” Bob asked quietly to Phoenix who shook her head and when he let out a relieved sigh the few people in hearing distance snapped their attention to him, varying degrees of disbelief and disgust on their faces. “If she were dead we’d know by now.” he supplied, and while his lack of tact was surprising, Bob was always mindful of what he said and how he said it, this served to ease people’s nerves. He was right. If you were dead, Jake would have been notified by now and none of them would be standing around the bar.

“We’ll know when we know,” Rooster said before walking down to the bar to get a fresh drink but something stopped him in his tracks, a brief flash in the distance beyond the windows that had him questioning his grip on reality because it was gone just as quick as he’d seen it… but he could have sworn he saw you. He tried to push past it, blame it on fried nerves and too much on his plate but he couldn’t. He had to be certain so he pushed past those doors and tentatively stepped out onto the beach, “way to go, Rooster. You’ve officially lost it,” he muttered to himself as he peeked around the side of the building but he hadn’t lost it. He saw what he saw, and he stood there gobsmacked as he got full sight of you, your body facing outwards towards the ocean with your hair messily strewn across your shoulders and donning a standard issue uniform… minus the top which left you in a tight tank with a concerning amount of gauze wrapped around your arm.

“JJ?” he asked, approaching slowly and you startled, jumping as you turned to face him and he could see it clear as day. You were scared, and while the appropriate assumption would have been everything you’d gone through, maybe the story linked to those bandages, he knew you well enough to know that wasn’t it. There was something else keeping you outside the bar instead of reuniting with your family.

“Roo,” you started, but you didn’t have anything else to say so it fell flat. There were tears in your eyes and you looked relieved but that fear was just under the surface and his steps were fast to close the distance, wrapping you up in his arms as carefully as he could and he was almost taken aback by the way you gripped onto him, latching on with seemingly no intention of letting go.

“How long have you been out here?” he whispered into your hair and he felt you shudder beneath him.

“A while,” you answered, and he realized that shudder was a humorless laugh. “I didn’t… I don’t know why, I just couldn’t-” you tried but your voice was thick and you didn’t need to say anything more. He understood. He knew coming home would be difficult for you, especially under these circumstances, and he didn’t need you to explain that you weren’t out here because you wanted to be, but because you felt like you couldn’t go inside.

“I know. You’re home and that’s what matters,” he pulled back to look at you but he didn’t go far, keeping his grip firm on you because he had a feeling it was what you needed. Much like the way you’d loop your hand through his when you were telling a story, so animated and excited you could barely get the words out fast enough, because you needed the physical tether. You needed to feel grounded so you didn’t get swept away by whatever it was you were saying or thinking. 

“I uh…” you shook your head and cleared your throat. “I got evacuated, by the time this healed and I was cleared I’d be going home anyways,” you said, nodding to your shoulder. “I didn’t call and I-”

“Stop, you had bigger things going on,” Rooster said, cutting you off entirely. He had tears in his eyes looking down at you, your hands gripping his arms so tightly and your features so soft and vulnerable in stark contradiction to the khaki pants and clunky boots and suddenly he felt selfish. “Let me go get Jake,” he started, beginning to pull away from you but he stopped when your brows furrowed. “You don’t want me to?”

You shook your head, “no… no I do, I just… god, I keep doing everything wrong,” you sighed. “I signed up to go to war without so much as a heads up, I told you first, I… I couldn’t even call to tell him I was okay before just showing up and standing out here lost in my own thoughts for half an hour,” you let out another humorless chuckle. “I keep doing this wrong.”

“You’re doing the best you can. You know he doesn’t expect anything from you, right? He doesn’t have some grand idea about how this would go, he knows this isn’t going to be like your reunion at his tap out or at your match day,” he said and you smiled sadly.

“I forgot I told you those stories,” you said. 

“That’s not what he’s expecting, he’s… you know, he handled it better than I thought he would but he hasn’t been okay and that’s just because all he wants to know is that you are. He wants to know that you’re mostly in one piece, and he wants to hug you the way I am right now- well, okay… maybe not the way I am because it has been several months since you left and I would imagine-” he started to joke and you let out a laugh… a real one, and you went to push his shoulder, disentangling yourself from him but it only served to make you wince.

You shook your head when his eyes widened, “it’s okay, just sore. You’re right… will you- will you go get him? And be cryptic,” you said, referencing the way Jake had called Rooster out minutes before your call disconnected. “I don’t know if I’m ready for everyone yet.”

“On it,” he replied, already moving to head inside.

“Wait, Rooster?” you called and he stopped, turning to face you. You gave him one of those blinding smiles, one that felt like a glimpse of the you before you left, the one that didn’t wear standard issue khakis and clunky boots, the one that wasn’t harder and shaper, and the one that hadn’t confessed to him you didn’t know if you were okay. You gave him that smile that was so you as you ran and jumped into him, squeezing him so tightly it sucked all the air from his lungs and he laughed as he caught you, twirling you around. “Thank you.” 

“What for, JJ?” 

“For being my person.” 

“Thanks for coming home,” he replied and you gave him one more squeeze before dropping down to the ground and he gave you a nod before disappearing inside. You resumed your earlier pacing, already feeling lighter after seeing Rooster and for as selfish and awful as you felt for always getting this wrong with Jake, it took the edge off. It made seeing him feel less daunting, and while you’d spent the previous half hour working yourself into a tizzy about how he would react or what he would say you now felt silly. Rooster was right, all he wanted right now was you, just like you wanted him. He wouldn’t be mad at you for not calling, he wouldn’t be mad at you for having a reunion with Rooster first, he would simply be your Jake. 

“What the hell is so urgent with your precious truck? I don’t even want to be here but you made me and now you’re ruining my streak,” you heard Jake complaining as the door to the bar opened and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you waited for them to round the corner.

“Okay, first of all, it’s not a truck, it’s a Bronco,” Rooster corrected, “and once again you might not want to be so hard on me when you see what it is,” he added and you couldn’t fight the smile on your face. You weren’t okay and you knew that, but you would be because you had them. You had your people and you were home, and that’s all that mattered.

“What does that- what the fuck?” You’d walked closer, not wanting the distance to be any further than it already was when he rounded the corner and he nearly walked right into you. “Jupiter?” he asked, blinking in surprise and simply staring at you because he couldn’t be certain what he was seeing was real. 

“Hey you,” you replied, ignoring the single tear that streamed down your cheek and you let out a laugh as he crushed you in a hug, lifting you off the ground and forcing your legs around him to keep your balance. 

Rooster stood and watched for a moment, soaking in this moment of unbridled joy between his two best friends before taking his leave. “So much for it not being like the tap out,” he said and you mouthed thank you to him over Jake’s shoulder as he went back inside. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, one hand firm on your waist and the other cupping your thigh as you pulled back slightly to look down at him, to commit that beautiful face of his gazing up at you with pure adoration to memory.

“It’s a long story and I… I’m not ready to talk about it yet,” you answered and he nodded, slowly lowering you to the ground to cup your face and press a kiss to your forehead.

“You don’t have to, not until you’re ready, I just…” he pulled back to look at you again and the emotion in his eyes cracked your heart wide open, and with it the flood of anxiety and uncertainty you’d pushed aside. “I was so worried something had happened.”

“I’m so sorry, Jake,” you started, that single tear giving way to an onslaught and his face crumpled at the sight. “I should have called, I should have-”

“Hey, no no no… that’s not what I meant,” he said, trying to reassure you as he smoothed his hands along your back. “I’m just so happy you’re home,” he said, trying to quell your tears but it was no use. He finally got a chance to really look at you, to soak you in and his heart broke when he noticed the bandages around your arm and you started to shake your head.

“Come on, come sit with me?” you asked and he nodded, catching one of your hands as you walked further out onto the beach and sank into the sand and he looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to find the words. You didn’t know if you were ready to talk about it yet but you needed to, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to let it go no matter how hard he tried to be supportive. “What you heard… we got ambushed, I’m still not entirely sure what happened but uh… it wiped most of the camp out,” you said, voice shaking and Jake tried to keep his feelings off his face as you spoke. “My call to Rooster saved my life, anyone that was near the command center-” you cut yourself off with a shake of your head and he squeezed your hand in reassurance. “I did what I could, I tried to get to as many people as I could but there wasn’t enough time, or enough hands and I got caught in the crossfire,” you said, gesturing to your arm. “It was a lucky shot, if you could even call it that. I’ll be okay, just not cleared to work yet which is why I’m home. It’ll be another few weeks before I am and at that point my deployment would have been over.”

“J, I’m so sorry…” he started, his hand gently cupping your arm just beneath the bandages. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” he said, pulling you into him and you moved into his lap to wrap your arms around him more easily, not paying any mind to the way you felt your stitches tugging.

“I’ll be okay. I can’t… I don’t think I can tell you any more, not right now.” You pulled away to look at him seriously, “it’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… things are different over there, I was different over there. I did things and I saw things I can’t begin to unpack right now but I want you to know that I plan to set something up at the hospital, a specialist to talk to so I can sort it out. I just… right now I really need everything to just go back to normal.”

“There’s no rush, sweetheart. You’ll tell me when you’re ready and if you never do, well… that’s alright too, as long as you talk to someone. All I cared about was you getting back home to me, even if Rooster had to get the first look at you,” he teased and you pouted.

“In my defense he wandered out and found me, that wasn’t intentional,” you protested.

“Yeah sure, whatever… the pornstache is your person and I just have to deal with that.”

“He might be my person but you’re the love of my life, you know that right? You are who got me through everything over there, and you are who I thought about day in and day out.”

“Oh yeah? And what exactly is it you thought about?” he asked, that famous smirk of his playing on his lips and you rolled your eyes.

“The audacity to call Rooster pornstache when you are trying to put the moves on your wife who just got back from war!” you laughed and he shifted you in his lap, pulling your leg to the side so you were straddling him and the contact on your core elicited a reaction that completely undercut the way you were trying to tease him.

“You did say you wanted everything to go back to normal,” he muttered, letting his lips trail along the column of your neck and he was right… you did want everything to go back to normal and this was something you’d thought about every moment you could while you were gone. 

“This is utterly indecent,” you sighed, feeling him growing hard beneath you and you pushed him back because if he kept going you’d scandalize the beach. “And mind you we are both in our uniforms right now,” you added.

“Yeah, by the way? This is super hot,” he said, letting his eyes trail over you appreciatively. “You’ve got a real Lara Croft thing going on right now and I’m into it.”

“Lara Croft!” you laughed, “she never even wore pants.”

“Please let me objectify my super hot, super tough wife in peace, thank you,” he said, and as you stared down at him you realized you hadn’t kissed him yet and you couldn’t believe you’d overlooked it. You pressed your lips to his softly, all pent up love and emotion but quickly it turned hungry… all tongues and biting lips as you gripped his biceps. 

“Take me home then, objectify me all you want, Lieutenant,” you said, pulling away to catch your breath and his eyes darkened as he was quick to stand pulling you up with him and you couldn’t help the squeals and laughter falling from your lips as he hurled you over his shoulder. You felt everything in your life right now was unsteady, you had no idea to come back to civility after what you’d been through but you had the tools to do it the best you could, and more importantly you had Jake who was everything you needed him to be and more. 

There wasn’t any sort of guidebook you could follow, and you didn’t know if this was how your return should have gone. You thought maybe you should be more damaged, you shouldn’t be laughing as your husband ran across the beach with you in tow, or maybe that’s exactly what you should have been doing. You didn’t really know, and you didn’t really care because you were home, and whatever came next you’d handle as it came with Jake by your side.

taglist: @mamaskillerqueen @clancycucumber230 @the-romanian-is-bae @alldaysdreamers @zzsloth @emma8895eb @novagreen04 @classyunknownlover @purplevortexx @mamachasesmayhem @ohgodnotagainn @smoothdogsgirl @swiftsgirlfriend @memoriesat30 @the-fandom-ness @midnightmagpiemama @charles11700 @angelbabyange @wildxwidow @sp1rit-realm @alluringshawn @taytaylala12 @starcatcher48 @buck-nasty @misshoneypaper @4evinlovewithfictionalmen @devil-angel-winchester @mamamaystbr @callsignspirit @thegodessc @failuretothrivestuff @olliepig @cruelmissdior @underaveragefangirl @grxcieluvr @amatswimming @camilaricci @nolita-fairytale @dempy @pinkpantheris @aviatorobsessed @tiredqueen73 @pona-pura-vida @binnieslove @nik2blog @waklman @abaker74 @halstead-severide-fan @percysaidnever @memeorydotcom @eli2447 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @toobouquet @a-v-a123 @rae-you-gotta-be-kidding-me @86laura11 @justenoughmadnesss @yoonbutterfly @mariaenchanted @boisewaffles @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @Genius2050 @stargazer-88 @chloeforde @kmc1989 @casa-boiardi @lostinwonderland314 @elenavampire21 (if your name is struck through, it means I couldn't tag you - so sorry!)

[thelawsofdaylight]

happy prologue day to all who celebrate!

[throneofsapphics]

finding you again prologue

Azriel x f!Reader

summary: after he ended your relationship, you didn’t expect Azriel to pop into your life again - and you’re not happy about it

warnings: angst, drinking

a/n: here's the start to the mini series from this poll! if anyone wants to be added to a taglist, you can comment under here or send me an ask/message!

part one

“Why?” You ran a hand through your hair. “Can you at least give me a reason?” 

“I told you. It’s not working.” Pity shone in Azriel’s eyes, and it made you want to break something. There was more he wasn’t saying, it was obvious to you, just as it was obvious he wouldn’t deign to share. 

“Then get out,” your voice was colder than you’d ever heard it. Enough that he blinked, and it brought a sick sense of satisfaction to you. “Out,” you repeated, not sure how much longer you could keep the tears in. 

He backed up slowly, one hand reaching behind to open the door, before slipping out. You missed the lingering look they shot your way, already having turned your back. With the click of the door, you grabbed the nearest glass and launched it across the room, a guttural scream leaving your chest. 

-

He lingered in the hallway, listening to shattering glass, your scream of pure pain, and hated themselves for a brief moment. He hadn’t lied to you, it wasn’t working. 

Whether you knew it or not wasn’t of any consequence to him. He did love you, genuinely, and part of him ached at the pain he was causing, but it was better than drawing out the inevitable. He’d loved you, but not enough to spend the rest of your lives together. It didn’t feel right to keep going when he knew you felt differently.

Still, he had to fight the desire to go back in and comfort you. 

His footsteps were soft down the hall, the stairs, the street, to the night that left an uncomfortable itch on his skin. 

-

Everything seemed fine. Not a damn indication something was wrong, but you should’ve known better - he was trained to hide his emotions, to keep secrets, but for a few years you’d let yourself believe you meant something to him. Let that pathetic hope fill you, that it might evolve into something more, that you could be his one. 

His face flashed across your mind, unwelcomed. That pity, like you were some miserable creature that would be broken by this 

Maybe you were broken, right now, but you decided to give yourself a day. 24 hours, and then you’d pull yourself together. 

But for now … a perfectly good bottle of red wine sat on your counter, one wine glass left standing. It would do. 

-

His shadows, half with a mind of their own, still followed you - still trailed to check you were fine. It was normal, expected, of course. You’d spent a few years together, although in secret, it was natural he’d still care for you. 

But, after a year passed he started to … wonder. Had he made a mistake? Through whispers in his ear, he trailed your life. Healers training, like you always said you would, a few new friends, new lovers that came and went, and eventually your departure from Velaris - sent to an outlying island as a new healing post. There was pride, pride he didn’t have any claim to feel, but it persisted nonetheless.

-

Prythian shut down, and you were one of the few who knew of a safe haven - although you couldn’t speak of it, or recall how to access it. Velaris. Each time the word came to the tip of your tongue, each time it was prominent in your mind, your throat dried up - chest clenched hard enough you lost your breath. It happened frequently enough your friends worried there was some sort of medical issue, and you forced yourself not to think of it. 

There’d been one last command from your High Lord - to lie low, and stay away, with one image flashing through your mind - the Holy Mountain for all of Prythian. Now cursed. Four simple words, one horrid curse, and you were cut off from all of your family and the friends you’d known for years. 

After 45 years, you wondered if they would still remember you like you did them. If one day you’d hug your little sister again. Would she remember you? She’d only been 10 the last time you saw each other, a day before you left, your chest clenched, throat tightening. Before you’d left home.  

You’d ached to leave the city and explore, and now all you wanted was to return. 

-

He thought of you often. Stuck outside of Velaris, with no way back. Not for the first time, he resented the decision Rhys made to keep them away. He hoped you’d gotten some kind of warning, that you were still alive out there. 

Azriel found himself checking on people he’d only heard of in passing. Everyone who’d been important to you in your life. Your younger sister growing, how your name was always met with worried looks and hushed tones, how over the years she stopped asking after you, how you seemed to disappear from everyone’s minds. 

Sometimes he wondered if he was the only one who remembered you. 

[fairiesdowntheroad]

SHE LOVES CONTROL — 1.

summary — Y/N takes the internet by storm,catching the eyes of all due to her performance on the track ; it just happens that she also captured a certain McLaren driver’s attention in the process.

pairing — f1 22-23 grid x fem! driver reader,love interest tbd

warnings — alludes to alcohol consumption,F-bombs here and there,some misogynistic flashbacks,race inaccuracies!!!

prologue | chapter 1 | next chapter

FROM J ⛅️ : hi everyone! we’re finally at chapter 1,let’s goooo!! i tried completing this as quick as i could for you guys — so i hope it’s alright 🌟 nothing really important this chapter,just our golden girl reaching huge milestones and forming a friendship (who knows? 🫣) with a certain someone on the grid.

lmk what you think and hope you enjoy! i wish you guys lots of love <3

BAHRAIN 23’ : SUNDAY.

P8.

Qualifying P8 overall? That was horrid for everyone’s standards….but qualifying P8 in a Williams that was considered a tractor? That was impressive.First race of the season…

First race in her entire Formula 1 career.

She was nervous,stressed,scared — a whirlwind of emotions really.There was only so much her teammate could do,trying to console her was proved useless as of now.The girl’s mind pranced all over the place,she tried — key word being tried, to slow down her heart.The Brit had taken a seat next to her,watching her lose her mind.He sighed softly,understanding how she would feel yet wanting her to put her doubts and worries to a pause.

Even if they only were acquainted for a few months,he could already read her like a book.She reminded him of himself — a particular time where he was in Toro Rosso.

“Y/N” he called out softly,placing a hand on her shoulder.The girl simply looked up at him with an indifferent expression,though he knew she was hiding all those emotions in her heart.Her hands balled up into fists on her lap,turning a shade lighter than her actual skin was a telltale sign. “You’ll be fine” he reminds her softly.

You’ll be fine.

She will be fine.

The words sinking in,she thought deep and hard about what he said.The worst case scenario would be a DNF — but there were many more races in the season to prove her worth.What if people would hate her for her performance? — people would hate her regardless of what she does ; she’s a woman to begin with.

She nodded her head slowly accepting his words.Don’t get me wrong she was still very nervous….but it couldn’t go absolutely horrid right? “I hope so.” she breathed out,nervous chuckle coming out.

“It’s your first race so I understand the nervousness..but take it easy”

Taking out her phone she scrolled through her messages one last time…only to find a message from her father.Her eyes scanned over the message — trying to hide a smile from forming.

‘Goodluck,will be watching you from the team’s garage’

Not her team though.

Putting the phone away to put on her balaclava and helmet,she quickly made herself comfortable in the car.Checking the settings one last time and doing a radio check ; she was all set to go.She manoeuvred the car out of the pit lane,taking her rightful place between the other 19 cars on the circuit.

“The goal is to maintain your position,overtake if you can but don’t be risky” her race engineer — Rowan informed her.“Copy.” she replied monotously,choosing to put her full attention on the red lights.

Only a few more seconds…and then away we go.It seemed like it would take forever for the light to go off.’You got this’ she repeated over and over again in her head….she would be okay.

3..

2…….

1.

Hitting the throttle to push as much as much as she could,she managed to maintain her position right behind her teammate.Through her side mirror she spotted the obnoxiously pink and blue Alpine trying to catch up to her.Was it Gasly’s or Ocons’s? She didn’t care at all.All she knew was to defend her spot — and playing the supporting role for her teammate.

This went on for a few more laps.She was restless ; her mind thinking of ways to solve the little problem on her hands right now.

Seeing the Alpine begin to close the gap,she pushed the pedal harder than she thought she could.Her heart pumped at undeniable speeds,feeling the adrenaline coursing through.“Gap to Gasly is 6.2 seconds.You can push,the tyres are still fresh” Rowan commented.

“Copy.” She kept her replies short and sweet,all her concentration poured into increasing the distance between her and the other cars behind her.She inched closer to her teammate,not willing to overtake for now.She would have to listen to the team’s instructions…but there was something off.

He was slowing down.

“Alex is going awfully slow” she remarked through comms with worry seeping through.She maintained her pace which caused her to be wheel-to-wheel with her teammate.His car pulled over to the side,leaving her as the only Williams car in the race.Eyebrows furrowing wirh confusement she thought of bringing it up with the team.

“Alex has been instructed to retire the car due to an engine problem—you have to push as much as you can to maintain your momentum.”

Didn’t need to tell her twice.

She said nothing,trying her best to catch up to the two orange McLarens in front of her.Getting closer,the hairs on her neck were pin straight.

“You have DRS.Overtake available”

“Copy” she hummed.Inching even closer then before,there it was.She could overtake now.She drove past by the first McLaren with ease.Oscar,the Australian McLaren driver in question was surprised there was a Williams gliding right in front of him.Sitting comfortably in P6 now,she was on a roll!

Within a few moments,she was able to strike for the overtake over the other McLaren.She was taking her rightful place as P5.

Just a little bit more.

It felt like forever,mere minutes feeling the same as a millennia for the rookie.By now,it was the final lap so she pushed as hard as she could.Passing the finish line she let out a breath of relief — she completed her first race.

“Congratulations Y/N…that is P5.”

P5…

What.The.Fuck.

“You’re joking….right? There’s no way we placed P5” she asked bluntly.She may have sounded blunt — but the girl was overjoyed.

The car was a tractor by how problematic it was during pre-season testing ; how was it in the points now? It was a relief.She laughed obnoxiously,smiling through that balaclava and helmet.

“Believe if it you want but that is a P5 on your debut.Beautiful performance from you — cannot wait to see more” Rowan congratulated her wirh a chuckle,amused at how she was seemed ro be in disbelief.The girl was laughing in joy now.It might not have been a podium like she was used to,but a P5 in a Williams was almost the equivalent of that.

She was nowhere near being satisfied ; but this would have to count for now.

She pulled her car into the garage,hopping out of the cockpit cheerfully.Taking off the balaclava and her helmet,the girl was greeted with cheers and rounds of applause from her team.She bloomed with joy — she didn’t care if her hair was sweaty and all over the place,this was where her hard work has gotten her.

Alex had made his way next to her,bringing the younger girl into a brief embrace.He was disappointed the first race of the season resulted in a DNF for himself,but he would not let that stop him from celebrating his teammate.

“Told you it would be alright” he muttered close to her so she could hear him.She simply flashed him a small smile,her heart filled with gratitude for him.The whole team embraced the two drivers to celebrate,regardless of the outcome.It was a new start.

A good one to say the least.

MCLAREN: LAP 40/57

The Brit drove comfortably in his McLaren.He was not worried about losing positions now,there was a comfortable distance between him and the car behind him.Driving without a worry,he failed to notice the Williams inching closer and closer to him.

“Lando,you need to push.The Williams is closing the gap between you two.”

What?

There was no way a Williams was behind him.Was he too slow or was the car suddenly blessed by the gods of speed? He couldn’t waste any time pondering further on that — he wouldn’t let himself lose to that tractor.

“Copy.” he replied quickly hitting the pedal to the metal.He tried his best to maintain his momentum ; but it came to no avail.The car had glided right past him in the matter of seconds.

“Was that the rookie’s car?” he asked in disbelief attempting to catch up to the woman in front of him.

“Yes — that was Y/N’s car”

“Fucking hell.”

The after party was…insane to say the least.

She didn’t exactly oppose parties — but she wasn’t entirely open to them either.The loud screams of joy,sweaty bodies colliding against each other,and the overall smell of alcohol ; she was not really pleased with the thought of parties as a whole.

Everyone in the club was celebrating the start of the season, it would be a memorable one for the books.She was only a few drinks in but ready to call it a day so she could head back to her room.

Stood next to a wasted Alex,he was rambling her ear off about something beyond her comprehension.The pair had showed up together after he convinced her to ; saying something along the lines of ‘enjoying your firsts’ which definetly gave off an entirely different message….

She was unsure of what to do with him — call a cab back to the hotel? let him have his fun? The girl was stuck pondering there and nodding mindlessly to his slurring and rambling.

“I think I’ll take him off your hands for now rookie.”

Her head shot up at the voice approaching her.She instantly knew who it was ; his British accent was hard to miss.The two were cackling at the wasted gentleman.

Greeting him with a nod,she knudged the other driver next to her so he could acknowledge the newcomer.

“LANDO! I’ve been waiting for you” Alex happily chirped,throwing himself to his fellow friend.She watched in amusement as the situation unfolded in front of her.The younger man slinging his senior’s hand around him,he walked towards the center of the party — where the other drivers sat.Their eyes scanned over to a very drunk Alex whose body was supported by the McLaren driver,and then the newbie who did not want to be here.

She flashed a friendly smile to the others as they were welcoming her with cheers.Pierre instantly had to make himself known,greeting her with a wink.She brushed it off,choosing to focus on the others.They went back to being engrossed in their own conversations — she felt out of place.Of course she did! She was a woman standing amongst sweaty and intoxicated men…definetly a position she was not to happy to be in.

Her bubble of thoughts were popped when the young man approached her once more.“Sorry about Alex,I think he’s drinking all that pain from his DNF away.” he remarked,eyes crinkling as he joked.The girl chuckled softly with him.

“He did give me a warning before hand that he was a lightweight — I was surprised it was that bad”

“Well,I would be drinking the night away too if my teammate got a P5 in a midfield car and I had to retire.”

Wow.

He was blunt.

She scrunched her nose at his comment.He smirked at her reaction,hand going over her shoulder in a friendly matter.”Speaking of drinking — you look like you haven’t been doing any of that” he pointed out,eyebrows raised as he wondered the reason for that.

“I don’t drink that much”

“It’s painfully obvious you don’t.” he snarkily commented.The girl raised her eyebrow on him,he was sassier than she expected him to be.She huffed,unsure of what to do with the man next to her.The two had interacted a couple of times through random run ins into each other at the paddock.Shy smiles had been sent to each other…he thought she was Alex’s PR Manager.

“I’m Lando by the way,even if you already knew that.”

“I know — Y/N..” she hummed nonchalantly,the boy raising an eyebrow at her response.She didn’t have any intent of coming off as cold ; she just did not know how to make herself comfortable among them.She was the outcast in her previous years of competing due to her gender — it was unusual to feel welcomed now.

She wondered in the back of her mind,did he have malicious intent or was he just nice?

Y/N was more acquainted with his teammate — Oscar,racing against each other in Formula 2.It was good for Oscar that he got a seat in a prestigious team ; she was unfortunately stuck in the bottom.Speaking of Oscar,she scanned the club to find him nowhere…weird.

“I think I’m ready to call it a night to be honest.” she confessed looking up at him.He laughed whole heartedly at her bluntness.Shaking his head,he patted her back.”By the way,you did good out there.Overtook me like it was a piece of cake” he compliments her as the party goes on.Music began blaring even louder now — bodies dancing like there was no tomorrow.

“I can’t hear you” she said loudly so he could get the message.She did hear what he wanted to say ; she just wanted to hear him say it again.He simply nodded at her,his hand moving itself to intertwine itself with hers.Feet beginning to move,he manoeuvred her out of the club.The ear damaging music slowly died down,the two standing at the entrance.

It was a quite night…contrary to the club.Her eyes scanned the man who had just dragged her out.His brown curls,the white shirt that he adorned along with ripped jeans.Her eyes had then averted to the city lights ; shining in their upmost glory.Lighting up the way for them.

“What were you saying just now?” she asked curiously,eager to hear him now that they were away from the crowd.Lando scratched his neck,his hand that was intertwined with hers untangling itself.

“You…you did a good job in the race.” he hummed softly.She perked an eyebrow as a small grin formed itself on her face,her eyes glinting with mischief.

“Don’t worry — I actually heard you the first time.” she snapped back,biting her lip to hold back another chuckle.His eyes were admiring the view in front of them.Bahrain never failed to amaze him.

“Just remember,I won’t let you by that easily next time.” he promised himself,hands sliding its way into his pockets as he stared at her.

“I’d want nothing but your best,Norris.”

taglist — @eutrizbea @eugene-emt-roe @ivoryluvs @itsjustkhaos @lewisvinga @kodzuvk @roseseraj @iliyad @laura-naruto-fan1998 @l0verl4ne @lana-d3l-rey @fly-inghighx @leilanixx @studioreader @allenajade-ite @nothingfuninthislife @ruleroftheuniverse @al-luvx @mimi-luvzyu @luvvtrent @glitterquadricorn @fanboyluvr @stevesworld9 @strawberrychita @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @treehouse-mouse

if your name is crossed out that means i was unable to tag you 🏷️

[greatooglymooglyyy]

The Last Ride Chapter One (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

contains: cussing, family issues, arguing, bickering, emotional manipulation, 2.3k words

a/n: so fucking nervous and excited for this series guys. love ya so much. this is crazyyyy

series masterlist (reading the prologue is v rec'd)

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

“Irresponsible-”

“Dad-”

“Wreckless-”

“Dad. I’m-”

“Inconsiderate!”

I sigh and close my eyes, letting my body slouch down in his office chair. I thought the fact that he sent me upstairs last night without a word meant he was going to be calm and collected this morning, but nope. I’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes while he’s been ranting and raving at me, not even giving me the chance to defend myself.

“Dad,” I say when he pauses again and stares at me. “I get it okay. I fu-” I clear my throat, wincing at the look he gives me. “I messed up. I’m sorry.”

He walks around his desk, takes his seat in front of me, and studies me for a second. When he speaks again, his voice is free of anger and instead just full of sadness. “I don’t think you are. Do you understand that you and your friends set production back three weeks on the warehouse? Construction was supposed to start Monday but now I have to tell the crew it’s been delayed. Do you care at all about that?”

I scrunch my nose up in annoyance and confusion. “Okay? It’s just a few weeks, Dad. I’m sure they’ll be fine. Look, can I go now? I broke my nail last night and I really need to-” He slams a hand down on the desk, startling me into silence.

“Y/N! Be quiet!” He pinches the bridge of his nose, attempting to regain composure. “Three weeks can be everything to someone who needs a job. But it’s my fault you don’t understand that. I’ve spent your life trying to make sure you had everything you ever wanted but I should have been teaching you what it means to work for it.” He takes a deep breath and then stands, crossing his arms and nodding as if deciding on something. “But that’s about to change.”

I stare back at him, my mouth slightly ajar still from the shock of his tone. He’s never been this angry with me before and I don’t know how to handle it.

“What do you mean?” I ask cautiously.

“I’m going to pay my crew for the time that they’re missing. And you,” he gestures at me theatrically “are going to pay me back every cent. I’m sending you to your Uncle Buck’s ranch to work off your debt.”

I stare at him blankly and tilt my head, thinking I must have heard him wrong. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Dad!” I laugh with incredulity. “You want to send me to work in Nowhere, Louisiana? That is so not fair.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “That town is where I was raised. It has a way of teaching you lessons that you clearly need right now.”

I square my shoulders at him, a defiant twinkle in my eye before I give him a strong “No.”

“Wasn’t a question, darling.”

“No!” I say, standing now. “You can’t make me.”

He narrows his eyes at me and then takes a step back. “You’re right about that. You are eighteen now so I can’t make you. But that means I can cut you off completely. No car. No money. Nada. And that’s exactly what I'll do if you don’t go.”

My eyes widen and I blink profusely at him gauging his seriousness but he’s as earnest as I’ve ever seen him. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes but instead of standing here crying, I just storm out of his office and run up the stairs.

“Good idea.” He calls behind me. “You should pack. Your flight leaves in 22 hours.”

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

My dad puts the car in park and looks over at me but I refuse to meet his eye.

"I cannot believe you are doing this to me.”

He sighs, placing a hand on my shoulder. “This isn’t something I’m doing to you, honey. This is something I’m doing for you. I love you but I don’t know if I like this person you’re becoming and I don’t think you do either.” My eyes start burning at this and I snatch away from him, hopping out of the car to grab my luggage. Dad meets me at the trunk, silently pulling out my suitcase and placing it on the ground.

I finally lock eyes with him and give him a hard look. “I am never going to forgive you for this.”

He winces slightly but sets his jaw stubbornly. “That’s a chance I’ll just have to take. I’ll see you at the end of the summer.”

I don’t respond, just grabbing my luggage and heading into the airport.

When I get through security, I have a seat in my section and pull out my phone to check the time on my boarding pass. I get a new message and sigh, finally filtering through the bullshit my friends have sent me.

Jace 🥵

hey baby are you okay? my bad about the party. you know i get on that shit. but never again, ok?

u up? i’m so fucking horny

Lydia 👯‍♀️

OMFG GIRL! Thank you so much for not telling your dad I was there. My mom would have literally canceled my Dubai trip. I love you FOREVER. Call me so I can tell you what Dylan said last night!

Brielle 💋

Hey. I’m so fucking sorry for leaving you. It was so shitty of us. Please let me know you’re ok?

I scoff at my phone and block them all one by one before turning my phone off. Maybe a couple of months away won’t be such a bad thing after all.

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

On second thought? No. It absolutely is. I look around in horror at what must be the smallest airport in the United States. There’s not even a baggage claim. I literally have just to wait while some guy brings out the luggage one by one.

When I’m finally outside, I look around for the car my Uncle was supposed to be sending but all I see is pickup trucks and dirt. I pull out my phone to call Dad when someone speaks up.

“Y/N?”

I look up to see a boy around my age looking a bit impatient. He has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen, crystal blue like the early morning sky. He’s wearing a simple flannel shirt, some well-worn Wranglers, and a trucker hat. When I bring my eyes back up to his face, he gives me a look that says I’ve been quiet for too long and I snap out of it.

“Yes! Thank god. I thought they forgot about me.”

“Nah. Your uncle sent me. I’m Chris.” He says around the toothpick hanging out his mouth. Chris reaches for my suitcase and I let him take it, following him to the car. He moves quickly and I rush to keep up. Kind of rude for a driver.

“Don’t you guys usually have a sign or something?” I look him up and down before adding, “And dress a little less… dingy?”

He stops looking over his shoulder at me and I stop in my tracks before I can slam into him.

“Excuse me?” He says, clearly offended.

“I just mean, in LA at least, chauffeurs are usually-”

“Chauffeur?” He cuts me off with an abrupt laugh. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

I look around the parking lot for emphasis. “Well, what else am I supposed to think? You’re picking me up from the airport!”

“Damn girl, you really are out of touch. I’m doing your uncle a favor. You’ve never picked a friend up from the airport before?” He tosses my suitcase in the bed of his Ford F150 and heads around the truck as I feel myself reddening. I open the passenger door and pause, noticing how grimy the interior is and not wanting to get my skirt dirty.

Chris watches me with unconcealed amusement. “You can walk if you’d like. It’s only a cool 25 miles. I’m sure it’ll be a breeze in those shoes.”

I roll my eyes and hop in, mentally adding ruining a Coach skirt to my dad’s list of sins. Chris cracks up the car and to my surprise, instead of country music, a rap song starts up. I look over at him impressed. “You know LUCKI?”

He rolls his eyes and takes off his hat, scratching his head. “We have the same internet you do.”

“Not with that shirt you don’t,” I mutter under my breath, turning to look out the window. There’s nothing to see but fields, dead grass, and the occasional horse grazing so I turn back to Chris.

“Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot.” I start, but he interrupts me.

“Nah. You’re exactly what I expected.”

I narrow my eyes at him, sitting back in the seat. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He counts them off, tapping the steering wheel as he does. “Entitled. Bratty. Unprepared.” He says the last one with a pointed look at my outfit.

I laugh without humor and clap. “Wow. All of that in ten minutes, huh? Okay, let me try." I tap my finger on my chin pretending to think. "You’re a backwater hillbilly whose idea of a vacation is driving out to Texas. You had big dreams of leaving this piece of shit town, but whoops! You’re still here.” I glance in the backseat, spotting a booster seat, and go for the kill shot. “What was it, hm? Babymama drama?”

Chris scowls at me, his eyes full of distaste. “You shouldn’t speak on shit you have no idea about. That seat’s for my sister. But thank you for proving my point. Why don’t we add judgy to that list?”

I snap my mouth shut and avert my eyes mutter a quiet, "Whatever." before reaching for my purse to popping in my AirPods. From my peripheral, I see Chris smirk and turn up the radio. When I’m sure he’s not looking, I chance a glance at him. He’s rapping the words of the song softly, bopping his head to the beat. I trail my eyes over his jaw, noticing the stubble lining it. Chris flicks his gaze over at me and I immediately look away, chastising myself.

He might be cute… Who am I kidding? He’s gorgeous. But he’s not worth a minute of the trouble. I sigh deeply and let my head fall against the headrest, closing my eyes and letting the music take over.

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

I sigh in relief when we come to a stop in front of my Uncle’s house. It’s been years since we’ve been back here, I was only eight the last time, but hardly anything has changed.

The land still seems huge to me, stretching out several hundred acres; which is beyond impossible in LA. The house is beautiful, even though it’s clearly old, a rustic-style home with red shutters and a wraparound porch. My dad told me once that my grandpa built it all by himself as a wedding gift to my granny. My heart tugs a bit at the reminder of them and I push it away and hop out of the truck.

Chris is already pulling my luggage out of the bed when I come around and I go to take it, muttering a quiet thank you, before I hear my name being called.

“As I live and breathe, if it isn’t my bunny!” My Aunt Birdie calls from the screen door before stepping out onto the porch. I grin at the old nickname and drop the suitcase, running up the few stairs to hug her. She nuzzles me into her arms and I can’t believe how much I’ve missed these hugs without knowing it.

“My my. Aren’t you as pretty as a magnolia in May?” She coos when she pulls back, pressing a palm to my cheek. I beam at her and she calls over her shoulder for my uncle.

She lets me go, moving past me to speak to Chris.

“And thank you, darlin', for getting her for us. You know how that truck of ours likes to kick up a fuss somethin’ fierce.” She says, placing a hand on his shoulder as he walks past her carrying the luggage.

“You know it’s no trouble.” He says politely and I scoff, causing both of them to look at me. I cover it up with a cough and shrug, finally stepping into the house. Uncle Buck comes around the corner, grinning from ear to ear.

“Y/N!” He’s freshly up from a nap, sleepiness evident in his face, but comes over to wrap me in a hug. “How was the trip? Hope you and Chris hit it off.” He says, throwing a smile his way.

“Oh, yes sir. She’s…” Chris hesitates. “somethin’. That’s for sure.”

I glare at him and he shrugs, turning back to my aunt and uncle. Uncle Buck takes a seat in his rocking chair and gestures for me to sit on the couch.

“Okay, honey. I’m gonna give it to you straight. I know you don’t want to be here.” He raises a hand when I try to interject. “Now, let me finish. I know you don’t want to be here but you are. Now what we do here is honest work. This is work you can take pride in. And that’s what I expect from you. Good honest work. Are we clear?” He says, his voice as stern as he can manage but I see the cracks in his facade. I nod anyway, not wanting to give him any trouble.

“Good!” He says, his good-natured smile returning. “Cus’ Chris, here’s a tough cookie. He’ll keep you on your toes.”

My eyes widen at this and I look between my aunt and uncle’s faces in horror. “What?”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” My uncle asks. “Chris here is our lead farmhand. You’ll be reporting to him this summer.”

There’s just no way this is happening. I drag my eyes to Chris reluctantly and find him giving me the most shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen.

He tips the brim of his hat sarcastically and chuckles.

“Welcome to the crew, city girl.”

Oh. I’m so fucked.

taglist: @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind

[raginglesbian2006]

Ne Me Quitte Pas

Alastor x gn angel!reader

Prologue: A Tea for Two

Masterlist

Chapter warnings: Domestic abuse, hinted murderous tendencies

Picture you upon my knee, just tea for two and two for tea,

Just me for you and you for me, alone!

He was running. Away from everything. Far from the terror and horror that plagued his home. He did not know what to do, he was a child after all. So he did the only thing he could at the moment- he ran.

His poor ma. She put in so much effort, practically gave her life away to make sure that he had a good life. At least she tried to give him one. His father on the other hand…. he did not bother. He came into the home that he and his ma had so dutifully built with love and care, only to beat and maim the beautiful soul he called his mother.

Alastor wished that he could do something to save his mama. Something. Anything. Oh, but alas, he was nothing but a coward. So he ran.

He kept moving his two little feet till he stopped at a quiet spot beneath a tree, well hidden by the general population. His knees gave out as he crumbled to the ground and he succumbed to his emotions. Tears racked his small body and he clutched his shirt right above his chest where his heart was beating oh so loudly. All he could think of was how pathetic he was, how cruel the world was to his ma and most importantly, how he failed to have control over his own life.

So consumed in his thoughts was he, that he did not notice the sound of the leaves rustling as someone moved through the tall bush surrounding him nor did he notice the sound of someone’s feet pattering on grass. He only looked up when he saw a basket drop right in front of him.

It was a child, about his age, looking at him with worried eyes and hands over their mouth. It seems they’d come here to have a little picnic, judging by the twine weaved basket that lay at their feet. Alastor coughed and wiped his tears, getting ready to leave. What he did not expect was the feel of someone tugging at his dirty dress shirt.

He flinched, immediately moving away from them, holding his lithe body in his arms, afraid of what they might do to him. He scrunched his eyes shut, expecting a blow or a push- something he was well accustomed with. But all he heard was a quiet “hello.”

Opening his eyes slightly, he saw the kid stretching out their hand in greeting. They spoke again.

“Hello, how do you do?”

Alastor was at a loss for words. He did not reach out to shake their hand, which was still out stretched. Sensing the hesitation, the kid retracted their hand and coughed, as if to clear the awkward air. They immediately went to their little basket and pulled out a picnic cloth, laying it on the grass beneath the tree. They plopped their small body down on it and patted the space next to them, inviting Alastor to sit with them.

Alastor did not know what to do. He never did. He hesitated once more before he heard them saying, “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.”

Slowly but carefully, he moved to where they were sitting and quietly placed himself next to them. It was silent for a few moments, the most peace he’d felt in his life. He did not find the air awkward or uncomfortable.

The little child reached out to their basket and opened it. Alastor’s mouth watered at the sight of the freshly baked goods that filled the container. They giggled at his awestruck face and offered him a few cookies, delicately wrapped in a small cloth.

He looked at them first, wanting to see if they’d be as cruel as his father was, who used to provide him with something he wanted but took it away almost immediately, laughing at his distraught face. But all he saw was a warm and inviting smile, encouraging him to take what was being offered.

Reluctantly he reached out his hand and took the gift. He couldn’t wait as he hungrily gobbled down what was in his hand. The kid smiled and reached down the basket to have a feast of their own.

And so it was, the two little souls- one maimed and the other hopeful- had a peaceful time seated next to each other, quietly feasting on their treats until they had to part ways.

Alastor smiled, for what he felt like, the very first time. His feet moved away from that little space he called heaven as he remembered the enthusiastic wave his companion gave to him, promising to be back tomorrow with more treats. He felt a warmth blooming in his chest. He did not want to wait to be with them. He decided that he did not mind going back to the hellscape his home had turned into, if it meant he could return to his safe haven.

The next day came and so did the day after. Every day, the two little souls met. Alastor, slowly becoming more receptive to their touch and presence, filled the other’s heart with joy. Sometimes, they’d bring sweets or freshly baked bread, and other times, they’d bring scones with tea- somehow managing to not spill any on their way. Alastor loved the treats, but all he truly wished for was their companionship. He was happy just being there with them. He was happy just seeing them smile.

The both of them shared stories and dreamt of a beautiful life under the tree they called their “secret spot”. There was once a time when Alastor came heavily bruised, still managing to smile at their companion. They, however, were horrified and ran away immediately. Alastor’s smile dropped, thinking that they’d abandoned him but he was pleasantly surprised when they came back, hands laden with bandages and ointments, ready to patch him up. He still remembers that day.

They never questioned his state, never asked what his life was beyond their meetings. He preferred it that way. He just wanted to enjoy the little time he had with them, not wanting to worry about what lay beyond this haven.

All of the peace came to an abrupt stop when they came to one of their regular meetings with tears in their eyes. Alastor immediately went up to them and held them tight in his arms, ready to fight anyone who dared to hurt his dear companion. It was then he knew that they were moving away, far from this city, far from him. All he could do at the moment was hold them even tighter, both sobbing at the thought of them parting ways for good.

On their last day together, he was given a small pendant. In it was a small white wildflower preserved in resin. That was the only thing they had left him with. That and the pleasant memories.

Life eventually did turn around for Alastor. He had “taken care” of the wretch he called his father just as he turned 18 and soon after, he and his ma had left that tiny shack they once called home to opt for a bigger and sturdier place.

All of this was due to Alastor’s success in the radio show business. He had a welcoming voice that attracted thousands. Everyone in Louisiana and beyond knew of him. He was proud of his accomplishments and even prouder that his dear old ma was happy and safe in their new home.

He had the occasional habit of indulging in questionable hobbies but he reassured himself every time that he was doing it for his own good as well as his mother’s. Besides, those miserable souls had it coming anyway. He did enjoy the fact that everyone had dubbed his little character - the “New Orleans Boogeyman.” He quite liked the name. Life, as he knew, was perfect in every way.

Even so, his hand still fiddled with the little pendant that he was used to wearing around his neck since it was given to him so long ago and his heart ached for his dear companion. He oft wondered about how they were, if they were even alive.

He wished the universe would let him see them again.

Taglist: @yumiburrito , @candyladycry

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

OMG😵‍💫 LITERALLY TRYING TO KILL ME… could u do a 5, 16, and 29 for your kinktober masterlist with sirius and remus… im actually going insane rn but anyways hope ur doing well and remember to take a break🪩 thank youuuu beautiful writer

5: first time   16: threesome   29: anal

my. god. seems like you want to kill me! this is one i'd been thinking about trying for so long actually...

okay, so i started writing it, and was going to write a brief lead up, and ended up writing too much. so. i'm posting that here now as a kind of prologue since i'm itching to get something out there and people seem to prefer shorter bits. then i'll write the proper request tonight and link it here when i post later today or tomorrow

UPDATE: link to the actual smut fic

(thank you for requesting! so so love to hear from you🫶)

so to start:

pre- remus x sirius x reader

word count: 1.4k

Prologue

It was for the best, you’d all decided. 

“We’ll all still be friends no matter who you choose,” they’d both said when months of sexual tension and emotional turmoil had finally climaxed in a conversation. 

Sirius and Remus: your two best friends in the entire world. Jaime, too, but it was different. He’d been quite preoccupied lately since getting together with Lily, and he was the only one you saw in a brotherly way. Sirius and Remus, your two best friends in the entire world… well… your feelings for them were less sisterly. 

And, it so happened, they felt the same. Both of them. 

The attraction, the affection, it had all finally become too much, had begun to strain the friendship. And since protecting the friendship was the purported reason none of you were acting on your feelings, you’d finally had that colossally awkward conversation. 

Their proposal: you choose. That way at least two out of the three of you get what you want, and the other can start trying to get over it; all three of you promise to prioritize your friendship even if it takes some readjustment. 

Your response: you couldn’t. You loved them both too much to hurt either of them or, honestly, to even be able to make the choice. 

So, you’d all agreed, it was for the best if you continued as you were. At least now things were out in the open, relieving some angst, some awkwardness. 

Open conversation had done nothing to relieve your feelings, however, and not just the fluffy ones. Those, at least, you could still indulge with your best friends. You could laugh together and talk and go out and even snuggle up on cold nights. But your lust for your boys you could not indulge, and in the pit of your stomach — and a bit lower — it grew and grew. 

Some nights, it became just a bit too much, and you’d opt for a bit of… personal time. You’d touch yourself to the thought of them; one suddenly swapped for the other in your fantasies then back again and so on, not even your mind ever picking a preference.

You have plans with them later but are at their empty flat quite early. They have more space than you, so it’s not uncommon for you to hang out here without them. They’ve even given you a key. 

James is out with Lily, and Remus and Sirius are out on some errand, hunting for some part for Sirius’s motorbike or something. You hadn’t paid too much attention, to be honest, just knew they’d be home in — you check the clock — a couple of hours. 

Enjoying the peace, you read a while, snuggled up on their sofa, Remus’s big, fluffy blanket too inviting to ignore. You stretch out our legs and hear something fall onto the floor. Looking over, you see you’ve knocked over Sirius’s favourite leather jacket. Picking it up, feeling its familiar texture in your hands, in the privacy of your solitude, you bring it up close and inhale. It smells so distinctly of him, and Sirius’s scent has always intoxicated you. 

At the thought of his arms wrapped around you when he’s wearing this jacket, you get a bit warm. You shift Remus’s blanket partly off of yourself, but rather than cool you down, this gets you thinking about his arms around you the many times you’ve shared this blanket. The way his body feels up against yours. The way he’ll often pull your legs on his lap. The way Sirius will come complaining about him hogging the blanket — and you — and sit on the other side of you, resting his head on your shoulder. His long, raven locks tickling your neck. 

Before you realize you’ve really decided to do this, you’ve slithered your body prone; your hand has slipped into your trousers; your eyes have fluttered closed, and your mind is reeling at the thought of them, one on either side of you, doing more than snuggling.

I can be quick, you think. They’re not meant to be back for ages anyway, and I can’t very well hang out with them when I’m already all flustered.

A minute later, your trousers are partly off, and you’re properly touching yourself, completely absorbed in the textures, the smells, the fantasies of the jacket, the blanket, the boys they belong to, the boys whose bodies you want all over yours, the boys whose key you don’t hear because you’re so caught up.

As the door flies open, so do your eyes, and they meet each of theirs in turn, both sets wide and starting. You yank your pants up and pull yourself together, jumping off the sofa.

A mess, your voice is raspy when you say, “I thought you weren’t going to be home till later.” 

A beat. They’re both still staring at you, their mouths agape, their feet seemingly glued to the entrance.

Then Remus awkwardly clears his throat. 

“Um,” cough, “yeah. Bloke canceled. Didn’t have the part.”

“Were you just touching yourself?” pipes up Sirius before Remus is even through with his short explanation. 

“I…” You’re mortified. “I’m sorry! Fuck. I thought I had the place to myself for a while! Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed.” You cover your burning face with your hands. “Ohmygod ohmygod. Please, is there any chance we can just forget this happened?” you plead. 

“Fat chance,” Sirius barks, and you glare at him. “Okay, okay,” he yields, hands up, “We can pretend.” He smirks.

“Pretend what, arsehole?” you say.

He opens his mouth to respond, but Remus cuts him off, saying “— that we didn’t see anything…” Even he is struggling to choke back a laugh as he pats Sirius on the shoulder and adds, “Right, mate?”

Sirius, sarcastic seriousness smeared across his features, just nods. 

“Oh my god,” you say again, seemingly having forgotten the rest of your vocabulary, shaking your head at the situation and plopping back down onto the sofa, face back in your hands. 

They come over, laughing now but comfortingly, and sit on either side of you. Sirius’s arm comes around you, and Remus’s hands take yours and pull them off your face. Surprising you, Sirius is the first to speak. 

“It’s fine, love,” he chuckles. “Honestly.” He rocks you back and forth a bit. 

“It’s not like either of us haven’t had a wank on this sofa.” 

“On the sofa??” Remus retorts. “Your room is right there for fuck’s sake.” 

“Alright, I stand corrected,” Sirius continues, completely unfazed, “It’s not like either of us haven’t had a wank in this flat.” He laughs again, and Remus scoffs, shaking his head, but can’t help but also chuckle. 

“Okay, okay,” you rush, not wanting to start thinking about them wanking, “Can we please talk about something else before I die of embarrassment?”

They agree and let up, and you turn on the telly, desperate for some distraction. The three of you start watching, and after a few tense minutes, you attempt some casual conversation, asking about their days and such. They answer, but the strange mood never quite seems to dissipate. There’s a charge in the air that mere time is no match for. 

You flip the channel and, to your horror, are met with a couple kissing passionately. You turn it off, much too quickly to be at all subtle. You shift slightly in your seat in between them. They’re both much tenser than usual, keeping more distance than usual but somehow pretending not to with an awkward graze here or there. Sirius is squirmy; Remus is too still. 

“How about some music?” you try, getting up and beelining for their record collection and putting something on. 

Realizing it will be even weirder to sit somewhere else, which you never do, you sit back down between them. 

Except for the music: silence. 

Until Sirius whispers, his voice gruff, “So who were you thinking about?”

Your head whips toward him, and you’re met with an expression you’ll never be able to erase from your mind. His stormy grey eyes are blown almost fully black and slightly hidden under heavy lids. His mouth is slightly open, but at seeing your face, his eyes scanning your features, he bites his lower lip. There’s lust in every feature, certainly, but there’s desperation too.

You turn toward Remus. He looks equally wrecked. 

His eyebrows furrow, and you’re unsure whether that’s meant in question to Sirius’s query. 

You look back and forth between the two men, the air around you heavy and electric. 

“Honestly?”

They both nod. 

“Both of you…” you confess.

continued in this smut fic

[thursdayinspace]

So much to say about the Duane Barry episodes and Scully's abduction, but mostly I find it amazing how much relationship development they managed to pack into a handful of episodes that Scully is barely in at all. It's already set up nicely: the hostage negotiation, Mulder being frustrated because first he's asked to help and then has to find out they're withholding information from him. Once again, he's not being taken seriously; he has to turn to Scully again even though they're not even partners anymore. He still relies on her, she's still the only one he can really trust. She comes all the way out there with the information she digs up when she can't reach him. She talks into his ear to help him resolve the situation. Afterwards, when they find that implant in Duane Barry, they try to figure that out together as well. As we've seen throughout all the episodes before, they fall back into their partnership easily, like it's the most natural thing in the world for them. And then she's abducted and everything falls apart. That's where it really picks up and it becomes clear that everything up to this point has been little more than a (very well done and important) prologue.

Mulder's silence at the beginning of "Ascension" is almost frightening. It's certainly intense. Somewhere between withdrawn and hyperfocused, with a good dose of fear mixed in. He tells Scully's mother that she's not in her apartment, and after that we don't hear him speak again until a good way into the conversation in Skinner's office the next morning, a good five minutes into the episode even though he's in every scene before then. And when he barely puts up a fight when Skinner tells him to go home, you know he's going rogue. He does not trust them to find Scully, and he certainly can't sit and wait while she's out there with Duane Barry.

He pushes himself beyond his limits, almost falling asleep at the wheel but refusing to let Krycek drive -- he doesn't give up the tiniest sliver of control. When the tram operator won't let them take the tram up the mountain, Mulder has no problem showing him his gun. He pushes the tram beyond safety limits. Does his acrobatics out in the open who knows how high up in the air -- risking his life -- after Krycek stops the tram.

And holy shit the way he loses it when he spots Scully's blood and hair on Duane Barry's hospital band is truly scary, I don't think we've ever seen him that angry before. But on second thought, maybe angry is the wrong word. He's acting out of fear and panic. I don't think even an angry Mulder would choke anyone. He isn't thinking straight anymore, his responses are almost primal at this point. He hasn't slept, he's running on adrenaline, he's no closer to finding Scully and now he knows she's injured.

Finding out about Krycek, Skinner reopening the x files . . . it all seems almost secondary. Not as important as his meeting with Scully's mother and her telling him to keep the cross necklace. He didn't have anyone this entire time to lean on or to talk to. And he still doesn't, but this is the closest he gets. He and Scully's mom are in similar places. For them, this is personal. I love that they're bonding over this, over their love for Scully and their worry about her. (Whatever meaning you want to read into the word "love" between Mulder and Scully at this point.)

The beginning of "One Breath" is so intense, Mulder running into that room in the hospital to find her lying there unconscious, hooked up to a respirator. Anger fueled by blind panic. "Who brought her here?" "How did she get here?" "Who did this to her?" "Listen, if you’re hiding anything, I swear, I will do anything, whatever it takes, I will find out what they did to her!" I love the scene and I absolutely love the way it's acted, big thumbs up to DD. Getting her back could have been the emotional release of that arc, but she comes back in a coma. It spikes the angst to a whole new level. Before, he didn't know whether she was okay or not, he could hold onto hope. Now he knows she's not okay. Getting her back does not let him finally sit down and take a deep breath and process any of it. Nothing is resolved, the fight is just taken elsewhere.

I just want to take a second to think about the fact that he sigend her living will as her witness. That is. A very intimate thing to do. And that moment needs to get the credit it deserves. Knowing that they have talked about the event of her being unable to decide for herself, knowing she let him in, let him sign it, and the fact that he did it? That is a huge HUGE thing.

What is really intriguing is that Mulder and Melissa clash in the way they do, because you'd expect them to get along. I wonder if they would have gotten along better had they met under different circumstances. But here, Mulder is in a very different place. He tends to go to extremes when the stakes are high, his single-minded focus in this moment doesn't allow for anything but action. He still believes he can do something. He doesn't even go in with them when they decide to pull the plug -- he refuses to accept a reality where she dies. We see that again in the cancer arc, where he tells her as much when she tells him her cancer is untreatable.

If anyone would go to the trouble of putting together a list of the top ten most heartbreaking moments from the entire show, Mulder's visit to CSM and the way his voice breaks when he asks "Why her?" would have to be on it. "Why her and not me?" It's the way he says it, but it's also what's in that question that makes it so heartbreaking. Because that's what it all boils down to. He feels guilty. He asked in the hospital "Who did this to her?" And throughout these episodes, in his head, he has always considered that person to be himself. He did this to her. Something we get to hear again and again all the way into the revival when he tells her he wishes she'd left that basement earlier so she'd have been spared from all the things that happened to her. He feels responsible.

(Just a short digression: He is not responsible. I feel like that's a very important thing to remember. Something her brother should have been told in the cancer arc too. Holding Mulder responsible robs Scully of all agency and makes her nothing more than a loyal puppy. But unpacking Bill Jr.'s implicit misogyny, and why the way Mulder feels responisble for everything is not the same thing, that is for another post. If anyone has thoughts on that though, I'd love to hear them.)

A real Mulder moment is him choosing not to take revenge on the men responsible for Scully's abduction, after X pretty much hand-delivers them to him on a silver tray, but rather to go to the hospital after Melissa tells him it might be his last chance, that Scully is dying. He will choose Scully over everything every time. Sitting at her bedside, taking her hand, the way he speaks to her -- it becomes clear how deep the feelings go but also how fragile and undefined it all is between them. They're friends, they're partners, they've flirted, they've told each other some of their deepest secrets, and he has no idea how to be around her now. "I don’t know if my being here . . . will help bring you back. But I’m here." His pause there before "will help bring you back" kills me. He honestly has no idea. He can hope, but he just doesn't know if he'd be a contributing factor in her decision to come back or move on, if she even hears him, if it's even in her control. (I've always wondered when he says in the revival that he invented wishing someone back to life when she was in the hospital, whether he was talking about her cancer or about this moment, or maybe both.)

He gets his breakdown once he comes back home to his destroyed apartment. Sliding down the wall crying -- such a moment. There's no anger in that anymore. No action. He expects to be losing her at that point and all the fight has left him. Until he gets the phone call that she's okay.

Could the episode have benefited from a slightly longer scene at the end? Maybe. It seems a bit anticlimactic, after all he's been through, that he walks into her room, gives her that silly tape (such a Mulder thing to do), hands her the cross necklace back, and that's pretty much it. On the other hand, considering the scene by her bedside before, maybe it fits. He doesn't know where he stands with her, and she's with her family.

I do think the ending is a bit abrupt, but that can easily be forgiven with all that those episodes provided before that. If anyone can see more in that ending than I do, I'd love to hear it because I really don't quite know what to make of it. But they seriously sent Mulder on a journey there, and it worked. And it sets so many things in motion, for the plot and for their relationship.

[siilvan]

bloodsport – IV

prologue | one | two | three | next

characters: vladimir makarov

summary: your first time back in the field is a whirlwind of emotions, especially after being forced to rely on yet another enemy. new information is revealed, and you realize that a drastic action may be the only way to fix this mess.

genre: angst, slowburn, enemies to ?, fem!reader (callsign: petra)

warnings: semi-proofread, cursing, canon-typical violence, descriptions of blood/injuries, poorly written spec-ops, allusions to trauma and stress, reader has a bit of a breakdown, graves lol

word count: 6k

note: giving a quick PSA here— please be mindful about what y'all write. i know this fic is about a very controversial and problematic character, but i try to be mindful about how i portray him and his actions. don't romanticize things that should not be romanticized, and be respectful to people. COD as a whole is problematic, but that doesn't mean we need to be a shitty community. support real victims, don't spread hate. easy peasy.

also, yes, i changed my formatting. the little text is too hard to read without my glasses, so... yeah. hope it's not ugly now :)

you spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, trying but failing to will yourself to fall asleep. soap texts you shortly before the sun comes up - a picture of himself and the rest of the team, posing for the camera. they're covered in dirt and ash, exhaustion apparent in their eyes, but the image is enough to make you crack a smile.

you give them a few hours, pulling yourself out of bed after sunrise and occupying yourself with mundane tasks around the house, before picking up the phone and calling price.

"hey, captain. sorry for calling so early." you chuckle, leaning against the arm of the couch.

"don't worry about it," price clears his throat, hoarse from fatigue, and you wonder for a second if he was asleep before you called. "was just finishing some paperwork. what d'you need?"

a low sigh escapes from you. "i know it's only been a day, but... can i come back? i really want to get back to work."

you can hear papers shuffling from his end. "i know you want to work, but we just can't take the risk—"

"there isn't going to be any risk," you assert, raising your voice slightly and interrupting him. you pause and wet your lips, speaking in a softer tone again. "please, captain, i know i can handle it. i just want to get back to normal already."

the line is quiet for a long moment, with price silently deliberating over your request. you shift nervously, gripping the phone tighter as you wait impatiently for a response.

finally, after you shift for the umpteenth time, he exhales deeply.

"i'll see if i can convince laswell, okay?" he concedes. you can hear his chair creaking as he leans back - you're assuming, at least. "pack your bags. i'll send a transport helicopter in an hour."

⋆⋆⋆

that's how you ended up at base again, with the team welcoming you back with open arms. laswell initially rejected the idea, stating the same concerns as before, but price managed to sway her after some discussion.

so, now you're in a meeting room, gathered around a table with lists, blueprints, names, pictures— any and all of the intel that the task force has gotten their hands on, scattered across the surface. you blink when price raps his knuckles against the tabletop, drawing your attention.

it's laswell who talks, shooting a glance around the table to address the group. "as you're all aware, shadow company has been a target of the konni group in recent times," she starts, sending you a cursory look, asking you for confirmation. you nod, and she continues. "not only have they been fighting the group head-on in al-mazrah, but there's been several incidents with undercover konni operatives in their ranks."

"good, let 'em fuckin' deal with it." soap remarks, earning noises of agreement from gaz, ghost, and yourself. price and laswell aren't as entertained by it.

"general shepherd, commander graves, and their men betrayed us." laswell pauses before letting out a heavy sigh. "i know none of you were happy about the ceasefire, and i know that you were furious when graves resurfaced. but, besides farah's forces, shadow company is our strongest ally."

"—and the only one capable of making any strong moves without risking an all-out war." price adds, shaking his head. everyone's displeased with the situation, that much is obvious.

"where are you goin' with this?" ghost asks. a tense silence fills the room for a long moment, making you shift awkwardly.

laswell motions towards the door on the far side of the room with her head. you cast your gaze in the same direction, watching as the door is pushed open.

as if on cue, the very man that should've been buried in flames in las almas walks into the room. the shadow himself. philip graves.

"oh, fuck off." soap growls at the man, looking ready to lunge at him from across the table. ghost steps forward and, if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was reaching for his sidearm. gaz and price are eerily quiet while glaring daggers at him, and you immediately feel the blood rush to your ears as every nerve commands you to shoot him yourself.

"i know this isn't ideal," laswell attempts to placate all of you, though the cold stare she regards him with betrays her calm demeanor. "but, for now, we're allies. we have a bigger threat to worry about."

"yeah, those konni guys are, uh..." graves perks up, languidly sauntering up to the table. he purses his lips for a second, thinking, before clicking his tongue. "real troublesome. i've lost a lot of good men thanks to them."

"good." ghost mutters, straightening himself next to soap.

price cuts through the tension with a wave of his hand. "alright, none of us want this, but we've got no other options." he grumbles. "konni's moving towards urzikstan. if we want to stop 'em, then we need to cooperate."

you eye graves from your peripherals, recalling the information that makarov gave you a couple weeks ago. graves isn't in on shepherd's plan, but he's likely the only person who knows the general's whereabouts. you need to say something while you still can. how will he take the news, though? he's betrayed you before, he'll do it again if it benefits him.

"petra, you listening?" laswell's voice abruptly interrupts your thoughts. you divert your attention back to her and notice that everyone's focus is on you.

"i have something i need to say," you blurt out. you need to bring up the general before he potentially ropes graves in.

you receive a collection of interested stares, urging you to go on.

"when i was captured, i managed to get some information," you drop your gaze, narrowing your eyes at the documents laid out. "we're not just fighting konni and al-qatala. some of the forces occupying al-mazrah are under shepherd's command."

the silence that falls over the room is almost deafening. the group balks at you with shock and confusion written on their expressions, until graves huffs out a laugh.

"general shepherd's 'forces' are my men. i can assure you, petra, that none of my shadows are workin' with konni." he says with a lopsided smile, confident as ever.

you turn to face graves fully, grimacing. "i'm not talking about your shadows. shepherd has another group under his command."

"what group?" price asks.

"cia operatives. ex-soldiers, specifically." you turn back, eyes flitting between price and laswell. "he's sending men undercover. the unmarked mercenaries that we keep encountering? that's them."

laswell shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest. "where did you get this information?"

you freeze. your mouth opens to say makarov's name, but for some reason, you hesitate. with a deep inhale, you blink away the odd feeling and force the words past your lips.

"makarov. i'm not sure why, but he told me about it."

yet another unbearable tension befalls the group; you're getting close to ripping your hair out over it. as if reading your thoughts, gaz speaks up.

"you know about this?" he says, directed at graves. he's tight-lipped, glowering at him.

graves doesn't respond, letting the question hang in the air. he looks just as surprised as the rest of you - makarov was telling the truth, then. shadow company isn't in on the plan. shepherd has effectively betrayed his strongest ally, to your knowledge.

"i'm sure there's an explanation," graves utters, chuckling to himself. "war's a dirty business. there's good reason to send men undercover."

"he's got part of the special activities division in his pocket." laswell says.

"isn't that where you pulled alex from?" price hums, earning a nod in reply. it's a bad situation, to say the least.

you regain everyone's attention and continue. "i don't know the full plan, but makarov suspected that shepherd's doing this to put himself back on top. start a war, get himself marked as a hero, reap the rewards."

graves raises a brow at you, amusement written on his face. "and, we should trust the judgement of a terrorist?" he says while searching the room for support.

price keeps his gaze on you, though the distant look in his eye tells you that his mind is elsewhere. "i'd trust this one's judgement." he mutters, jaw clenching.

"well, there's no point in standin' around, is there?" graves seems to bounce back quickly, shrugging off the news. "we've got a job to do and a terrorist to catch. let's focus on that."

"i'll contact farah and see if alex knows anything about the men under shepherd's command." laswell says as you all break away from the table and start to file out of the room.

"keep us updated," price nods to her before turning to the rest of you. "wheels up in thirty. we'll debrief on the way."

you breathe out a relieved sigh once everyone breaks off, heading off to finish any last minute preparations before takeoff. you linger in the corridor, running a hand down your face and groaning into the palm of your hand. of course, you have no choice but to work with an enemy whilst relying on intel from yet another. at least you can be open with your team about this one.

shepherd and makarov are your targets. graves comes after. take down all three, and your headaches are gone. no more doubting yourself, no more questions, no more nights spent looking at lists of crimes that make you feel sick. you can resume your not-so-peaceful life with the rest of the task force and celebrate the world being a somewhat safer place.

your phone buzzes in your pocket, distracting you from your pondering and pulling you back to the present. you frown at the name on the caller id.

it's a single letter: 'v.'

after your conversation - if you can even call it that - with makarov last night, you saved his number. putting his name in your phone is basically shooting yourself in the foot, so you saved it under a name that gives you deniability in the event someone sees it.

you duck into an empty rec room nearby and accept the call, keeping an eye on the door as you lift the phone to your ear.

"you actually picked up the phone this time." makarov remarks upon you answering. your frown deepens, brows furrowing.

"if you don't have anything important to say, i'm hanging up."

he chuckles, far too casual for your liking. "i have an update. something that i'm sure you'll be interested in."

you shift, leaning against the back of one of the couches. "what is it?"

"in case you're planning to return to al-mazrah, just know that shepherd's men have been given strict orders to target and eliminate members of the one-four-one."

a chill creeps up the back of your spine. it's an unsurprising order, but you still rack your brain as to why he gave it. does shepherd somehow know that you know about his plans? it shouldn't be possible— until the meeting that finished just minutes ago, the only people privy to the knowledge were makarov and yourself.

of course, shepherd's allies are aware of it, but the only ally of his that you've contacted is graves. you doubt that he's talked to the general in the short amount of time since, which eliminates graves as a possibility just as quickly as you suspected him.

there has to be another source. someone feeding him information, keeping the one-four-one under watch.

"shepherd's got a mole in our group." you reply, pinching the bridge of your nose. "fucking hell. he knows that we're onto him."

"'we,' lieutenant?" he comments with an amused lilt in his tone.

"my team, asshole. he's got men undercover in your group and in my squad. he's watching all of his enemies."

makarov hums, voice dropping a little. "you have a keen eye, petra. have you asked the shadow about shepherd's whereabouts, yet?" he asks, brushing past your frustration.

"haven't had the chance," you mutter. "based on his reaction to the news, i doubt he'll give it away, though. we might have to get the location ourselves."

he exhales, audible through the phone. "it would be more convenient if you could convince him to tell you."

you roll your eyes. "yeah, of course it would. just don't expect any miracles. aren't you the one with all the mysterious ways of gathering information, anyway?" you grumble sarcastically and move away from the couch, starting to pace around the room while keeping your gaze on the door.

"i can get his location if necessary, but that would eliminate your usefulness in this operation, wouldn't it?"

he's right, and you hate him for it. "you still need me to kill him." you counter bluntly.

"i can do that, too. your team wants revenge for his betrayal. this is me being charitable - don't disappoint."

makarov ends the call before you have the chance to argue, leaving you to huff to yourself in the empty room. a moment later, a head pokes around the doorway, startling you and nearly making you drop your phone when you jump.

gaz is regarding you with a sly grin as he fully reveals himself and steps into the room. your palms immediately moisten with sweat as worry floods your mind - how much did he just hear?

"so, who you talkin' to?" gaz cocks his head to the side, teasing. he's relaxed, standing in front of you with his hands shoved in his pockets.

you pocket your phone and flash a calm smile. "that depends. you have any guesses?"

he chuckles, lifting one of his hands to playfully stroke at his chin as he thinks. "let's see... i know you weren't home for long, but—" his grin morphs into a lopsided smirk as he eyes you suspiciously. "y'got a boyfriend?"

dear god, no.

you resist the urge to gag at the thought and shake your head. "nope, it's just a... friend of mine."

gaz leans forward, an inquisitive 'ah' tumbling from his lips. "a friend, eh? they got a name?" he asks.

"he, uh... just goes by 'v.'"

"'v?' like the letter?"

you answer with an affirmative "mhm," patting gaz on the shoulder as you brush past him. "it's a nickname i gave him. don't worry about it."

gaz groans in exasperation as you stroll towards the door, trying to ignore the way your heart races. lying is a normal part of the job, but lying to your team? generally not recommended.

"most 'just friends' don't have exclusive nicknames, you know!" gaz calls out from behind as you round the corner and start down the hall, leaving him alone.

a sick part of you finds the sentiment - makarov, being anything more than an enemy - entertaining, but your better judgement steers you back on track. you've got a mission to prepare for, and the likelihood of something going wrong is as high as ever. you need to focus on the mission and getting graves to give up shepherd.

⋆⋆⋆

shadow company's gunship is a familiar sight as you climb aboard, slipping past the groups of shadows and finding your teammates gathered around what you can only describe as the command center. graves is standing close by, though the tension is palpable as you approach.

after the aircraft lifts off is when graves talks, addressing the soldiers lining the seats of the craft.

"alright, now i know we've had our problems in the past," he starts, briefly acknowledging your group before turning back to his men. "however, none of that matters right now. the one-four-one is our ally on this mission; treat 'em like your own. copy that, shadows?"

johnny snorts from next to you. "where have we heard this before?" he mumbles.

there's a resounding "yep-yep" from his men, accompanied by several nods and looks in your direction. graves pats one of the soldiers on the shoulder and looks to price.

"think you can lay out the rest, captain."

price starts down the middle row, his voice booming even over the sounds of people checking their weapons, gear, and anxiously shifting in their seats. he moves slowly, practically stalking down the length of the gunship.

"the mission is simple: konni and al-qatala have set up bases across the city. they're using gas, heavy artillery, and stolen weapons to protect themselves." price stops for a moment and lets his gaze drag over the soldiers staring back at him. "i don't think i need to remind you shadows of what konni's done to your brothers in arms. we're going to break off into strike teams - eight men - and destroy these bases. alpha team will take the nerve center in the heart of the city. you already know your assignments."

graves speaks again once price goes quiet. "the commanders are not likely going to be in any of these field bases. but, if they are, then each and every single one of you has execute authority." he announces. "first man to bag an HVT gets a reward." he adds with a smirk, earning light laughter from several of his men.

when the speeches conclude, you settle back in your seat.

alpha team includes yourself, price, graves, and five of the shadows that graves handpicked. ghost, soap, and gaz are leading the bravo team, charged with the largest and best-guarded of the field bases. the commanding chain within shadow company are leading the other groups tasked with the bases scattered around the city.

you fish your phone out of one of your vest pockets when it buzzes, reading the notification on the screen.

there's an agent in your group 11:06 am

not a shadow. special forces. 11:06 am

you frown, angling the screen back and quickly scanning the group. everyone seems to be engrossed in conversation, giving you a chance to respond.

do you have a name? 11:07 am

not yet. he's a rookie. 11:07 am

he's stationed at the base you're staying at 11:07 am

check the files. should have transferred recently. 11:08 am

thank you. 11:08 am

don't mention it. 11:09 am

you're quick to tuck your phone away again, jolting when gaz suddenly addresses you.

"texting your boyfriend, eh?" he laughs, catching everyone's attention.

soap snorts and turns to you. "since when did you start dating?"

you wave them off, sitting up again as all eyes fall on you - even ghost, who is usually horribly uninterested in gossip.

"what are you two, schoolchildren?" you ask, earning playful noises of offense. "he's just a friend. not even a close one."

you're getting yourself caught up in a lie. a shitty one, at that. all it's doing is making people more interested in who you're talking to. at this rate, you'll get caught by the end of the day.

"bullshit— no one in this job talks to a person this much if they're not special." gaz counters, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

price chuckles. "c'mon, gaz. come off it," he lightly scolds the sergeant before looking at you. "just make sure he treats you nice, yeah?" he adds, both teasing and sincere at the same time.

"he's not my— yeah, okay. i'll remember that." you concede, slumping back in your seat.

the topic is dropped not long after, leaving you to relax as people talk around you. after a couple minutes, you can feel your eyelids start to droop, reminding you of how restless last night was. the trip's going to take a while, you might as well get some sleep while you still can.

⋆⋆⋆

everything is so hot. the sun, the ground, your clothes, the air— you.

you don't have any protective gear on, your sidearm secured in your loose grip as you stumble through the ruins where a city once stood.

that's right, you think. the city was destroyed in all the fighting. reduced to nothing more than rubble. you remember when there used to be buildings here; half-toppled and abandoned, but they stood as evidence of life nonetheless.

you falter, landing on your knee and hissing as it hits the solid ground below you. your vision starts to blur as your eyes water, forcing you to rub at them with your free hand in a desperate attempt to clear them.

when you blink rapidly, trying to force back the disorientation and bleariness, you notice a figure directly ahead of you.

an ally. a friend. someone that can help.

you force yourself to your feet and stagger towards them, sucking in a hopeful breath when they start to rush to meet you. the harsh sun— fuck, it's so hot— makes you squint, preventing you from making out a face until they're already pulling you into their embrace, strong arms holding you close to their chest.

"it's okay." their voice— his voice, reassures you softly, one of his hands coming to rest on the back of your head, cradling you impossibly closer. "i took care of it, my dear. you're safe now."

hot tears streak down your cheeks, dirty with sand, dust, and ash, as you wrap your arms around his middle. you try to speak, but all that comes out is a hiccup and a pathetic sob, so you resolve to burying your face in his shoulder to muffle your cries.

you're tired. exhausted, actually. for once in this career, you want to be selfish. you want to be the protected one. fighting, losing allies, killing— it never ends.

he shushes you, but even in your state, you can tell the action is unnatural. gentleness, empathy, tender care... it isn't who he is.

you manage to lift your head enough to look at him, eyes glassy with tears.

makarov stares back at you, his callous gaze betraying the way he holds you. it makes you pause, confused, as you slowly recall why you're even here.

you were fighting konni operatives. there was a missile— no, something bigger. something that decimated the city and would have taken you along with it, had you not ducked into a shelter at the very last second. when you emerged, shaken and dazed in the aftershock, you encountered al-qatala and konni mercenaries alike.

bodies scattered in the streets, men wheezing for air despite blood displacing the oxygen in their lungs and leaking from every orifice, some still trying to fight even as they collapse in heaps of pure agony, writhing on the ground alongside their brothers in arms.

you wince when his fingers trace along the edge of your jaw, his forefinger hooking under your chin and forcing you to look into his eyes after your gaze drifts away.

"their lives mean nothing," makarov whispers, barely audible over the sound of your heart pounding against your ribcage. "not compared to you. you're better, stronger, than them. you will serve me well. you will help me usher in a new age."

he runs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, slightly chapped from the dry heat. on instinct, you part your lips, and he moves his hand to cup your face before leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

it's wrong. this is wrong.

you shouldn't be here. you shouldn't be doing this.

the kiss is a distraction, keeping you occupied as his other hand falls from its spot on your hip. you don't even notice the change until a gunshot rings out, and pain equally as burning as the kiss courses through your veins.

you can't even muster a proper cry as you pull back, one of your own hands flying to the epicenter of the pain, right in the middle of your stomach. your fingers brush against the spot, and you whimper when you lift them back up to your face. dark red stains your skin, dripping down your wrist.

"i just need to fix you first. under my guidance... you will be perfect, my dear." makarov mutters, catching you and holding you up when you crumple against him. he coos at you, sympathetic yet mocking, as he scoops you up in his arms, the world around you going dark.

⋆⋆⋆

you wake up with a start, shifting to the edge of your seat as you frantically rub at your eyes. there's an ache deep in the pit of your stomach, making you press your palm against the same spot as your dream.

this time, when you look down at your hand, you see nothing. a shaky sigh escapes from you at the sight - or, rather, the lack thereof.

"y'all right?" ghost asks, eyeing you from the seat across from you.

"yeah, yeah—" you respond, shaking off the lingering effects of the dream. "we almost there?"

price comes over, having been talking with graves some feet away, and pats your shoulder in acknowledgement. "about to touch down, actually. let's go."

you disembark alongside the rest of alpha team, taking up formation with price and graves, with the few shadow company operatives behind the three of you. reaching the building isn't a difficult task despite the many mercenaries standing between it and your team; as much as you hate to admit it, the shadows are skilled in the field, even with their misgivings.

the building is another high rise, like the one you infiltrated weeks ago, half-crumpled from the effects of the fighting in the city. price leads the group as you all enter it through a sizeable hole in the wall, clearing out the first floor with trained precision.

the group of shadows form a perimeter just outside as you investigate the interior with price and graves, finding it... empty?

"thought you said this was the nerve center," you mutter, turning to the men as they search around, equally as perplexed as you. "there's nothing here."

price shakes his head, standing up from where he was crouched over some rubble. "there was something here. they must've moved."

"they knew we were comin'." graves says with a frustrated huff. "probably just protecting it to keep up the charade. the real control center could be anywhere in the city."

the two start for the exit with you in tow. "could be outside of it for all we know. we need to contact the other squads." price replies before pausing at the threshold and angling his head upwards. you stop several feet back and send him a confused look, before a low rumbling echoes throughout the building, sending dust and small debris falling from the floors above.

the rumbling stops for a second, until a louder, harsher one follows. larger pieces of wreckage start to loosen and threaten to fall, small bits clattering against the ground.

"shit, the building's too unstable— it's gonna collapse—!" price shouts as a metal beam crashes into the ground less than twenty feet away from you.

while price and graves are able to duck out amidst the falling debris, you're forced to dive backwards after a piece of the floor above falls right into your path. you search for a way around it, but as the violent shaking increases and sends more collapsing down all around you, you realize that cover might be your only option.

you scan the room quickly and dive under a pile of slabs and beams, sturdy enough to not collapse under the weight of falling wreckage, but with just enough room for you to squeeze in underneath.

it's only seconds after you find cover that the thundering sounds of heavy rubble crashing down all around you fills your ears, forcing you to cover them with your hands as each crash makes you flinch.

the worst of the destruction is short-lived. a couple minutes pass by before you're willing to move, the occasional piece of the upper floors still collapsing around you every now and then. you let out a trembling breath once you emerge, pure adrenaline coursing through your veins.

the exit. you hastily search for it, but all hope drains from you when you find it and see that it's completely blocked by the wreckage.

"petra? can you hear me?" price's voice crackles through your radio.

you go to respond, coughing harshly due to all the dirt and dust floating in the air. "i hear you— i'm all right," you tear your eyes from the exit and look for another path. it's a big building, surely you can find something. "just stuck in here." you grumble into the radio.

"we're gonna try to find another way in, see if you can meet us somewhere." he says. you can hear graves barking orders at his men in the background. "be careful." price adds in a rushed tone.

you drop your hand from your radio and clutch your gun close as you carefully traverse the field of debris, mentally thanking whatever higher power that the building only partially collapsed on top of you, instead of crushing you completely.

every movement out the corner of your eyes makes you stop and aim your weapon at it; it's highly unlikely - but not impossible - that you're not alone. anyone could've snuck in after the collapse, or hidden themselves like you did. al-qatala, konni, shepherd's men— you have a lot of enemies and very few allies in the area.

you spin around at the sound of something shifting, but only see a few pieces of wood hitting the ground. you're getting too paranoid. you try to steel yourself, breathing deeply, before a smooth voice makes you choke on the air that gets caught in your throat.

"you are very unlucky, aren't you?"

you turn again, gun drawn and finger on the trigger, but stop short upon seeing a friendly...

well, you see makarov standing across the room. it's an enemy that doesn't seem all-too interested in killing you - for now, at least.

"how did you..." you trail off, lowering your weapon.

apparently understanding your question, he vaguely motions behind himself. "there's a breach." he says, glancing over the destruction as he approaches you.

you squint at him as he draws closer, briefly tightening your grip on your gun. he stops several feet away, though, so you allow yourself to relax just a bit, lowering your weapon.

"i figured you'd be staying far away from al-mazrah, it's an active war zone after all." you comment, earning a dismissive look.

"i don't mind getting my hands dirty," makarov utters with a lofty grin tugging at his lips. "besides, we need to talk."

you cock your head to the side, curious. "and, you couldn't call or text me about this? that's been working out so far." you chuckle softly.

he steps closer again, standing a little over an arm's length away. "i happened to be close by." he responds. "this is also something better discussed in person."

you nod, hesitantly slinging your gun over your shoulder to cross your arms over your chest.

"after our last exchange, i managed to gather more information from my... source." he punctuates the last word with a half-assed attempt at a conciliatory smile. "the mole planted within your group reported to shepherd recently; he's aware of our communication." he continues, before you interrupt him.

"wait, no one knows about this, not even my squad." you assert, taking another step closer to him. you're just under an arm's length away, now.

"there was an agent within the group assigned to your care when you were captured. one of the two men that accompanied us on the first day - he listened in on our conversation and delivered the details to the general." makarov speaks in a hushed tone, one you can just barely hear over rubble crumbling somewhere nearby. "the agent on your end tracked you after you reunited with your squad. something of yours was bugged, they heard us that night."

how could he... most of your belongings were clothes, which you know for certain weren't bugged. the only other item that traveled home with you is your cellphone—

"shit," you mumble, practically tearing your vest pocket open and grabbing your phone. there's nothing obviously wrong with it at first glance, but once you pop the case off and check inside, your suspicions are confirmed.

there's a small tracking device flashing red at you, mocking you, and you rip it out before tossing it on the ground and stomping on it.

"he's heard everything," you say, twisting your boot to scatter the broken pieces. "fuck, if this gets out— i can explain this to my team and make do with the judgement, but if shepherd tells any of his friends in their cushy government positions, i'm dead."

makarov shifts, looking past you, but you don't even notice the action thanks to the adrenaline reflooding your system. "that would be an issue," he mutters, reaching for the holster at his hip. "i suppose i could protect you."

you snort, dragging your gaze from your boot to his face. "i'm not joining your side, even for this."

a thin string of red light shines from the darkness behind you, aimed at the back of your skull. makarov follows it to its source, all but ignoring your rejection, as his fingers wrap around the handle of his desert eagle.

a loud gunshot rings out, echoing against the walls. you instinctively reach for your stomach, preparing yourself for the pain you felt in that dream, body tensing up as it flies into survival mode.

the pain never comes. a heavy thump makes you turn, however, watching as a soldier collapses to the ground. unmarked uniform. one of the general’s men.

"shepherd has not earned your blood. if anyone is going to kill you, it will be me." makarov lowers his gun and meets your muddled gaze. "i suggest you reconsider my offer, petra, and give me a call when you make up your mind."

you’re left in that state as he sidesteps and saunters past you, seemingly disappearing into the darkness himself. you’re sure there’s another exit that you missed, one he’s taking to avoid running into your squad.

his offer. joining him for protection.

you'll never follow makarov or his ideals, much less join him for such a selfish reason. if you can kill shepherd, then you can destroy any evidence and get yourself out of this mess. with graves' cooperation and your team to help, that possibility is well within your reach. the only crime you'll have to answer for is severely disappointing your teammates, but they'll understand.

except, there's no guarantee that graves will help, and the rules of engagement prevent you from taking effective action against shepherd. he may be on the run, but he's an american general - killing him could land the one-four-one in hot water with the government.

that'll only lead to more restrictions, more eyes on you, more questions— there's nothing you can do to stop it.

you need someone without limits. someone the government doesn't have their hands on.

you need makarov.

a series of heavy footsteps alert you to a new presence, snapping you out of your trance. you lift your head in time to see price, graves, and the shadows appear from around a large pile of debris in the same direction that makarov originally approached you from.

"petra!" price calls out, jogging ahead of the group and stopping just in front of you. "you broken?" he asks, placing a firm hand on your shoulder and dragging his gaze across your form, searching for any injuries.

"no, i'm fine. nothing major." you mumble, struggling to find your voice all of a sudden. "just, uh..." you lose it again, your tongue darting out to nervously wet your dry lips.

"something wrong?" he murmurs, quiet enough that graves and his men can't hear from their positions farther away.

you can feel every beat of your heart, rapidly thumping against your ribs to the point of making your chest ache. only price can give you approval to do something so risky, so stupid. he'll understand. he knows the job isn't perfect, but you do what you have to do—

"i have something to confess, captain."

taglist: @sofasoap, @roosterr, @rohansregret, @lonesome-doves, @thorrsexual, @miss-nob0dy, @woodeelf, @fbs-fc-ur-mommy, @soap-mactavish, @itsyellow, @johfaam0, @cumbermovels, @chxe-zdechnac, @imagineswritersblog, @emorgz33, @sparda-ly, @ponyboys-sunsets, @frazie99, @chensipstea, @thriving-n-jiving, @preciouslittlecreature, @infinitewhore, @jade-jax

⋆ feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the taglist! (18+ only please <3)

[discount-shades]

Contract Spouse Prologue

Prologue: The Phone Call

A/N: So I had this idea around the same time I thought of Sleepy Baby and I thought Sleepy Baby would be a one shot and I didn’t want to start anything that would be a series but here we are. Anywho, I’m kinda excited about this story. I even planned it out!

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)

Warning: None for this chapter, but probably angst in general.

Summary: Jake gets a phone call.

Previous     Masterlist     Next

“Who’s phone is that?” Phoenix looks down at the phone ringing on the table. The contact picture showed a young woman smiling widely. Bob and Rooster glance over from their game of pool. 

“Hangman’s,” Bob says, nodding to where the man in question was buying the next round at the bar. 

“Who’s Pip?” Phoenix held the phone up to show the others the picture and contact as the call went to voicemail.

“Hangman’s got a girl?” Rooster walks over suddenly interested. “Since when?”

“I don’t know,” Phoenix glances back at the phone in her hand. Hangman was more of the ‘hit it and quit it’ type. In all the years she’d known him he had never mentioned a relationship. “He’s only ever talked about his mother and sister.” The phone began to ring again, the same name and picture popping up again. 

“Answer it!” Rooster urges.

“Don’t answer it.” Bob insists, “It’s not your phone.”

“I’ll answer it,” Rooster makes a wild grab for the phone but Phoenix sticks her hand under his jaw, pushing his face away before hitting accept and putting the phone to her ear. Fanboy and Payback come over to separate the two.

“Hangman’s phone.”

Oh! hi,” the voice on the other side is soft and sounds nervous. “Umm, is Jake there?”

“He’s getting beers right now.” Phoenix answers.

“Ask her how she knows Hangman!” Rooster says excitedly, grabbing at the phone, “Ask her how she knows Hangman!” Phoenix smacks his hands away and covers her other ear, struggling to hear the voice on the phone over the noise of the bar.

“Can you ask Jake to call me back as soon as he can?” The woman is speaking quickly. “It’s important.”

“Can I tell him what this phone call is about?” Phoenix asks. “If I have something to tell him he might call sooner.”

“No, it's fine,” the voice raises several octaves. “Just tell him Pip called. He has my number, of course he has my number. I just called him, and he has it from before.” Nervous laughter carries through the speaker. “Just say Pip called and I have to talk to him, Ok, I’ll let you go….  It’s important, but not like life and death. But I need to talk to him soon. Ok, bye.”

The call disconnects and Phoenix looks at the phone frowning. “She sounded really nervous talking to me.” She glances up at the others who gathered around. “All she said was that she needed to talk to Hangman.”

They all look over to where Hangman had gotten sidetracked and was flirting with a pretty brunette at the bar. “Maybe she is one of his one night stands that he got pregnant.” Rooster guesses. Phoenix frowns, accidents happen but Hangman is not the type to make that kind of mistake.

“She could think you are competition and that's why she didn’t want to tell you who she was.” Fanboy offers. “Yo, what if she thinks you’re his wife?!” All the men oohed at that, excited about the prospect of drama.

“Then I would have answered, ‘Jake’s phone’ and not ‘Hangman’s phone’” Phoenix rolls her eyes when they look disappointed. She glances up to see Hangman making his way over a smug look on his face.

He hands out the beers he bought, “well I’m going to be leaving with that lovely lady there, so you guys behave yourselves and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He winks as he turns to grab his phone from the table. “Did you guys see my phone?” 

Phoenix holds the phone up. “Who’s Pip?” Hangman's face shifts from smug, to surprised, to a forced calm in a second but his shoulders are tight, betraying his true emotions. 

“Why?” his voice is clipped and he glances around suspiciously at the way everyone is gathered around looking at him. 

“She called, I answered,” Phoenix’s answer was flippant but she was watching for any tells over who the mystery woman is. “She said it was important that you called her back quickly.”

When Hangman goes to grab his phone from Phoenix, Rooster grabs it first and holds it back. “Who is she, Hangman?” Rooster is grinning, “our guess was that she was a one night stand that you knocked up.”

Hangman’s calm expression turns hard and he roughly grabs the phone out of Rooster's hand. “She’s not pregnant with my child.” he ground out before quickly walking out onto the deck before pressing the phone to his ear. Phoenix follows everyone else to the window to watch the phone call.

Hangman was standing on the deck in the cool night air, his tense shoulders relaxing after a moment of talking. He then begins to pace, clearly unnerved by what the woman is saying. “It's not good news.” Bob mutters. Phoenix nods in agreement. Hangman doesn’t get worked up. In all her years of knowing him she has never seen him agitated. It was one of the things that made him a good pilot. 

But one phone call, to a mystery woman that none of them had even heard of, has him pacing and running his free hand through his perfectly coiffed hair. She frowns at him slumping against the railing and absentmindedly nodding to what is being said on the phone. After speaking some more he hangs up and straightens, shooting them all a glare for not even hiding the fact that they were watching through the glass. Fanboy even waves back.

He walks back into the bar with his shoulders set and forestalls any questions with a brusque, “I’ve gotta go.” Hangman says as he walks back over to the brunette from earlier. Phoenix narrows her eyes as she watches the woman offer her phone for Hangman to enter his number and he shakes his head and declines before nodding politely and walking out the door.

“She was, like, a sure thing and he turned her down.” Fanboy is standing behind her. “Who is this Pip chick?” Phoenix just shrugs.

Coyote walks in a minute later. “What's up with Hangman, he literally ran into me in the parking lot and just took off.”

“He got a phone call from some woman named Pip who needed him.” Rooster pipes up.

Coyote’s jaw drops and he mumbles, “oh shit,” before trying and failing to school his face into not giving anything away.

“You know who she is.” Rooster scrambles around the pool table so he is in front of Coyote. “Come on, don't be shy, tell us everything.” His grin is eager and expectant. 

Coyote glances around at everyone watching him and shifts uneasily. “I’m not telling you shit, it's not my business to tell.”

“But you know who this Pip is?” Fanboy asks. “Who names their kid Pip, anyway?”

Coyote just shrugs. “It's not her real name. And if Hangman wants you to know more he will tell you himself.” 

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter 17 I It's Been A Long Time Coming

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

Chapter Summary: The final chapter. Read the end note for more.

Word Count: 5.3K

Warning: The most canon divergent I get (roykeeley endgame forever), a little more self-indulgent than usual, some more heated content but nothing smutty, I'm just sad y'all

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve 13 14 15 16

Change was in the air. A lot of things were changing. There was a lot of good change. Nate was back! He was just working with Will right now, but I could already tell he was different from how he left. He apologized to me for all the nasty things he had said and done. I was a little wary at first, but Jamie reminded me that I’d given him a second chance and Nate deserved one too.

Another good change was that Roy and Keeley had officially gotten back together. Much to the relief of everyone else in the club who couldn’t bear to see them apart. It was nice to have another couple around our age to go out with. We already had a double date set up for the week after the last game.

Then, of course, there was some not so good change. When Ted told Roy and I that he and Beard would be leaving at the end of the season, I almost passed out. My personal plans aside, I’d never done this without him, and I didn’t know if I wanted to.  But Ted assured both of us that the club was in good hands with the two of us.  Many tears were shed and that was before we told the team.

Roy and I went out alone that night. I told Jamie that we had some stuff to plan but really, the two of us just needed to be with each other.

            “What was Ted going on about?” Roy asked, taking a long sip of his beer. “About not letting his decision get in the way of any plans we might have?”

I shrugged, playing with my cocktail, trying to be inconspicuous. But, as usual, Roy could see right through me.

            “I haven’t figured out all the details,” I said, finally. “But… yeah… something’s planned, a bit.”

I expected him to be cross with me for leaving him to deal with the changes alone, but he wasn’t. He just lifted his glass towards me.

            “To big fucking changes,” he offered.

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. “To big fucking changes.”

            “And you know,” he stopped me before I could take a sip. “We’re always here for you. Not just me, the whole fucking team would die for you.” It was very sweet. Roy being vulnerable with me for a second. “Don’t go getting all… fucking… emotional on me, (Y/N).”

            “You know what this means, Roy.”

            “We are not fucking, hugging.”

            “Oh, yes we are.”

I when I got home that night, Jamie was there waiting for me. We always ended up at each other’s houses somehow or another though we promised we wouldn’t move in together until after the end of the season. But there he was waiting for me anyways, washing dishes in the kitchen.

            “Hey, babe, how was grandad?” he asked, finishing up the plate he was washing.

I smiled at it, at the domestic nature of the act, at the thought of walking home to Jamie every day for the rest of my life. I walked up and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his back.

            “Was good,” I answered, rubbing my head on his skin.

            “Now who’s acting like a cat?” He rumbled, smirking as he looked back at you.

I hummed a giggle, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade before letting go again. I leaned against the island and waited for him to finished up. He threw the dish towel over his shoulder as he turned to look at me.

            “What?” Jamie questioned, smirking.

            “What?” I returned.

            “You got a funny look on your face,” he told me, reaching out to pinch my cheek. “Look all spacey.”

I batted his hand away, shaking my head. “No… it’s just,” I rubbed at my chin. “There’s a lot of change happening right now… isn’t there.” Jamie cocked his head at me, motioning for me to continue. “Well… Ted and Beard are leaving, Nate’s back, Roy and Keeley are back together – which is great – but… it’s just a lot.”

Jamie nodded. “Yeah… it is. Was there anything else… that was changing… that you might want to tell me?”

Jamie had come to know me very well. Too well for my comfort sometimes. He could tell there was something going on in my head, something I wasn’t telling him. But that was something I still didn’t want to share quite yet, wasn’t ready to share.

            “No, I’m just same old me,” I grinned, stepping forward to slot myself between his legs. His mouth dropped into that lazy smile that drove me mad. I took a shaky breath and nodded at him.  “And we… we’re not changing? Yeah?”

            “I don’t plan on changing a thing,” He quipped, wrapping his arms low around my hips. “That is… unless we’re changing the amount of clothes you’re wearing.” He tugged at my pants slightly, drawing a laugh from me. Safe to say, no matter what else changed, we would be okay.

The final day of training came and went. The boys put on their show for Ted and Beard, who loved it, of course. There was so much movement happening all around the locker room. I sat in the crook of Jamie’s leg that he kept propped up on the bench as we chatted with Cockburn and Dixon when Keeley walked in with her usual cheerful greeting.

I took a moment to look around the room. At the team, and the coaches, and the people, walking in and out. It felt so different. So different from the locker room I’d seen three years ago. It felt much more alive and warmer, inviting people to come join the family. I felt a pang of nostalgia for it already, and there I was, sitting in the moment.

It felt like the end of something. It was the end of the season sure, but it was more than that. With Ted leaving and the future so unsure, it was really the end of an era at Richmond. The Lasso era was ending. And I missed it already.

Jamie and Roy went out that night for a drink. Jamie was practically bouncing, excited that Roy had invited him out and was going to allow him to drink a single beer. So, I took the opportunity to go to Keeley’s to discuss my plans with her.

I arrived at Keeley’s doorstep that night. If anyone would be able to help me figure out the logistics of this, it’d be her. I hadn’t told anyone else about this idea, just Ted and the very vague conversation I’d had with Jamie.

            “(Y/N)!” Keeley squeal when she opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

            “Hi Keeley,” I greeted, smiling. “I had something I wanted to talk to you about.”

It didn’t take long, only about an hour of chatting for us to figure out how to go about the plan. Keeley had been so excited, jumping on board immediately, grabbing her notebook to jot down some notes and start sketching some logo ideas.

            “Do you think Rebecca will go for it?” I asked, nervously.

            “Go for it? She’ll love it!” Keeley enthused. She sipped on her wine. “Is this why you’ve been so weird at training and such. Cause it’s not just Ted and Beard leaving?”

            “Acting weird?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Is that way Roy said?”

Keeley smirked. “Said you were plotting something.”

            “Yeah, his death for starters,” I laughed, grinning. Keeley let out a cackle that only she could make. Our laughter was interrupted by a knock on the door. I looked at the clock, it was late, later than a random passerby. “Did you order food?”

            “No, I thought you did,” Keeley shrugged, scooting her chair back.

At the door was Roy and Jamie, and from the looks of it, they’d been in some sort of scuffle.

            “My word, what’s happen to you two?” I cried as Keeley opened the door.

Jamie’s nose was bleeding, his head tilted back slightly as he pinched the bridge and Roy’s shirt had been nearly torn off. They had other bumps and bruises across their bodies, and I honestly couldn’t believe it.  We finally sat them down at Keeley’s table, Keeley and I sat next to each other facing Roy and Jamie.

            “All right, are you gonna tell us what happened?” Keeley asked, handing Roy an ice pack. I handed Jamie a fresh tissue, wiping his face with my thumb, even as he tried to duck away from me.

            “Better be a cool story, or else this is just sad,” I echoed, pulling back from Jamie finally.

Jamie looked over at Roy who shrugged, gesturing for Jamie to start.

            “We got in a fight,” Jamie started.

            “About the two of you,” Roy finished.

Keeley and I looked at each other a bit incredulous before replying in unison. “Why!?”

            “Well, we was just talking about the trip to Brazil coming up that the four of us are going on, and I was saying how great Keeley was at her job,” Roy explained, smiling at Keeley.

            “And I was saying how you’re fantastic at your job, too, (Y/N),” Jamie followed up quickly. “How you had improved the team so much this season, the lads really respect you.”

Roy shook his head and turned to look at Jamie. “And I was saying how, of course, I thought you were good at your job, but Keeley runs her own PR firm, she’s fucking next level.”

Jamie growled and turned to face Roy. “But (Y/N) is the first female coach in the whole premier league, and she’s the only Captain from the Imperial girls’ team to win three straight championships.”

Roy leaned forward to get in Jamie’s face. “But Keeley is who makes (Y/N) look good. Keeley makes all of us look good.:

Jamie matches him immediately. “But (Y/N) makes sure there is good stuff to make look good.”

            “Oh my GOD!” I shout out, slamming my hands on the table. Roy and Jamie flinch away from each other. “Did you really get in a fist fight to try and prove which one of us was better?” I pointed between Keeley and myself.

The boys shrugged, answering me without saying a word.

            “Are you joking?” Keeley reared. “Like are you seriously joking?”

She and I looked at each other. Without another word, we kicked the boys out and returned to our wine night.

I returned home later that night to find Jamie on the couch, munching on a chicken kebab, his nose stuffed with tissues. I shook my head as I came down to sit next to him.

            “You are ridiculous, you know that?” I chuckled, taking the kebab from him. He let out a grunt of protest but didn’t stop me from taking a bite.

            “Oi, I had to wrestle Roy for that one,” he settled me into his side, his arm wrapping around me.

            “Oh, I didn’t know it was WrestleMania tonight,” I gaped shaking my head. I brought a hand up and mussed his hair. “What were you thinking? Getting in a fight with Roy.”

            “I was defending your honor,” He defended, grabbing my hand to pull it away from his head. “Don’t see the harm in it, just guys being dudes.”

I almost choked on my kebab. “Guys being dudes? You really have lots it.”

He smiled and pulled me into him, turning the TV on. I leaned back against his shoulder, staring at the screen, chewing on the latter half of his kebab. Now was the time.

            “Jamie, I’m quitting coaching.”

            “What?” He flew up from his seat, knocking me to the side. “What’re you doing that for? Is it Nate? Did he say something? Or Roy? I’ll kill them both!”

“No! No, Jamie listen.” I grabbed his hands, coaxing him to sit back down. “It’s not anyone else… it’s me. It’s what I���ve been… planning.”

Jamie frowned, his eyes looking into mine for answers. “You’re not gonna coach me anymore?”

I felt my heart break just a little at his pitiful tone. I brought my hand up to his face, holding his neck in my grasp. 

            “No, Jamie… I’m not. I’m not going to coach anyone,” I started to explain. “See, what I realized, the part of coaching I’m good at is the playing bit. Understanding the players and how they think. It helped Ted a lot but… I’m not a coach. I’m a player.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “You want to play? You’re gonna join a women’s team?”

            “Yeah?” I worried my bottom lip as he processed. Why was I afraid? Was he going to disapprove, god was this like with Matt all over again? “Is that okay?”

            “Okay?” His eyes lit up so bright. “That’s amazing.”

He lifted me up, spinning me around in his arms. I held on tightly, afraid to fall, even though Jamie would never let me fall. He placed me down in front of him, gripping my waist.

            “How fucking amazing is it that we’ll be the two best players in our leagues,” He mused, grinning widely. “Who you going to play for? I ‘spose Arsenal’s the closest for the women’s or Reading but you can do better than Reading.”

            “You’re assuming I’ll get to pick!” I laughed.

He made a pursed his lips and shrugged. “Obviously, they’ll all be after you, won’t they.”

            “Well, uh, the thing is, actually,” I looked down, playing with the hem of his shirt to distract myself. “That’s what I was talking to Keely about. I’m gonna convince Rebecca to start a women’s team at Richmond.”

Again, Jamie processed. Then he lifted me up again, twirling me around, cackling like mad.

            “You’re brilliant, you are, you know that?” He kisses me then, passionately in a way I’d never felt before. My breath gets pushed out of me as my hands flail to hold on to him. He kisses me again, slowly, before pulling back. “I love you.”

I look at him, wide-eyed, panting. “I love you, too.”

He smiled at me smugly, knowing exactly the effect he was having on me. He reached down and lifted me up over his shoulder, carrying me off towards the bedroom.

            “Jamie!” I cried happily, banging on his back. “Put me down!”

            “Oh, I’ll put you down,” he sneered, plopping me down onto the mattress. He crawled over my body, anticipation growing with in me as I propped myself up onto my elbows. He took his time reaching me, his lips ghosting over my skin. Up my chest, my neck, until they hovered over my lips, just out of reach of mine. “My girl…”

He kissed my cheek, nose nudging mine like he liked to do. I tried to press up and kiss him, but he pulled back, what a tease.

            “Jamie,” I frowned, whining. I pulled on his shirt, trying to pull him closer to me.

            “Hold on, sweetheart,” he murmured, pushing me down so I was flat on the bed. “I just wanna look at ya.” His hand travelled down my body before coming back up to rest on my cheek, stroking my skin with his thumb. “You’re amazing.”

I felt so soft under his praise, under his touch as he admired me. But it wasn’t just my body he was admiring it, it was me. All of me. And when he finally kissed me, it felt like the sun was filling my body with its warmth.

The day of the final game came, West Ham, again.  This time under George Cartwick, the bastard. But I didn’t feel more normal anxiety about such an important game. Yeah, this game could solidify our ranking within the league, but I didn’t feel too worried. Win or lose, we’d shown the whole country exactly what we could do.

I carried the box from Zava in my grasp, using my legs to readjust my grip as I waved to Laughing Liam.

            “Hello, lads,” I greeted as I walked into the locker room. The room erupted in a choral of hellos and greetings.

            “What’ve you got there?” Colin asked, coming over to help me set the box down.

I dusted my hands off, starting to open it up. “It’s a care package from, Zava.”

The locker room groaned, and I smirked, sneaking a glance at Jamie who seemed quite pleased with the response.

            No,” Dani spoke up from behind me, quite firm. “Thank you, but no. I will not let him hurt me again.”

            “Ooh, it’s t-shirts!” Will smiled, reaching across me to get one.

            “Can I have two, please?” Dani decided.

I shook my head, moving away from the box to reach out for Jamie. He pulled me towards him, chuckling at the antics, wrapping his arms around me to pull my back against his chest, my hands crossing in front of my body as I held onto him.

            “Oh, oh!” Colin exclaimed. “There’s a card.” He reached in and grabbed a card out of it. “’My brothers.’” The boys laughed. “’Good luck against West Ham. Please enjoy the T-shirts and this avocado from my farm. Never forget, I am always inside you, Zava.’”

            “What, he sent us one avocado?” Jamie questioned, his lips right by my ear.

Bumbercatch lifted the avocado from box and held it up so we could all see it. It was giant. I felt Jamie freeze in surprise.

            “Holeh guacamoleh,” he shuttered out. “Show me that, bro.”

He let go of me to grab the avocado, staring at it in awe. I laughed, shaking my head.

The beginning of the game was a little rocky, probably due to the video that Beard had made, sending the whole team into a sobbing frenzy. The first half quarter was a stalemate, but Jamie was keeping them on their toes, controlling the field with his excellent strategic passes. Nevertheless, Westham managed to score, twice before the half.

The boys were buzzing during the half, talking and strategizing with one another. It was a stark difference from the team I started with. That team would be silent, brooding, angry about what was going wrong. But this team still had hope, they still had believe.

Ted emerged from his den to address the team.

            “Well, fellas, we got our work cut out for us in the second half. But you know, I’ll get to all that in a minute.” I went over to my spot next to Roy, crossing my arms as I looked over the group.

“No, uh, right now, all I wanna do is let you gentlemen know what an absolute honor it's been to be your coach. Getting to work with y'all these last three years has truly been one of the greatest experiences of my life. I've loved getting to know each and every single one of you. Learning all about the men you were and getting a front-row seat to see the men… and women you all have become “

He looked over at me and I nodded, swallowing a thick ball of sadness in my throat.

“A-And I wanna thank you for your patience with me. You know, when I showed up here, I didn't know one thing about soccer. But now... Well, now I know at least one thing about football.”

We let out a chuckle, though it was well watery I could tell. He continued.

“I'm just so gosh damn proud to be a part of this team. You know? And I love you guys. I'm gonna miss y'all." My heart swelled. I didn't want to say goodbye. I swiped at a tear that had escaped my eyes.

"Now, regarding this second half... Yeah, I don't know what's gonna happen. You know what I mean? No one does. Sports would be a lot less fun if we did. You know? And you all would probably make a lot less money, so... You know?  We don't wanna know the future. No, no, we wanna be here right now. And look, I-I know we're down a couple goals. But I'm telling you, man, if y'all play hard, play smart, play together and just, you know... Just do what y'all do, and we'll go out with the peace of mind knowing we did our best. That we tried. Yeah?”

            “Yes, coach.”

            “Hm. All right. Anybody else have something to say?”

            “Coach.” Sam spoke up.

            “Yeah, Sam, what you got?”

Sam stood up and grabbed something from his locker, pulling out a small piece of yellow paper. Then Jamie stood up, pulling out a book from his locker that had a similar yellow piece of paper sticking out of it. Soon the whole team was grabbing things from their lockers and pulling out their own yellow pieces.

I sighed and reached into my pocket and found my wallet. I had a polaroid of Jamie and I, sitting at Sam’s restaurant, and taped on the back was my own piece of yellow paper. I held it up and walked over to where the boys were placing their pieces.

Soon there was a clutter of pieces all mixed up. The boys stared at it a second, wondering what was wrong with it. Then they moved into action, putting it back together like a puzzle. I smiled at Roy who shook his head and chuckled.

Finally, the sign was back together. The torn up believe sign put back together by the team that made it a reality. I’d missed the sign. Missed it more than I knew.

            “And there it is,” Ted mused, smiling at it. “Number four. Yeah?”

The fourth rule of total football. Believe. Believing in this team and the people in it. Believing in change and love and friendship. Believing in the fact that victory was within our grasp. Believe was filling this room. Starting from when Ted first stepped foot in the locker, infecting the place with his positivity. Now the room, and the whole stadium was filled with it, so even when he was gone, we’d keep it going. Believe.

            “Alright, let’s bring it in.”

We walked in together, Jamie standing right behind me so he could keep one hand on my hip while the other went in for the huddle.

            “I know they folks like to say, ‘there’s no place like home,’” Ted looked around the circle, at our team. “That’s true. You know. But man, there ain’t a whole lot of places like AFC Richmond either.” I let out a shaky laugh, the team following in suit. He addressed Isaac. “Richmond on three. One, two, three…”

            “RICHMOND.”

The second half feels more electric than before. More shots on the goal, with only one getting in from Jamie. The stadium erupted in cheers as Jamie scored, giving the crowd a shred of hope for Richmond’s chances.

Jamie gets in again losing his mark and heading for a second goal when he’s tackled. It’s a weak tackle and Jamie certainly played it up but it got us our penalty.

            “That’s it,” I muttered, nodding at Ted.

It took a second, Jamie passing the ball over to Dani who then passed it to… Isaac.

            “Oh, what the fuck,” I grunted, rolling my eyes. I loved Isaac, I really did, but I was certain he’d never even made a penalty before.

Isaac went for the shot, and it flew into the stands, causing a groan to go across the field. It wasn’t the end of the world but equalizing certainly would have been helpful. But then the referee went back to look at the net before turning around and signaling a goal.

I laughed and let out a cheer, patting Roy’s shoulder.

            “Who fucking knew,” I gaped.

            “Apparently, Dani,” Roy answered.

This wasn’t the end; we still had another goal to get but victory was just in reach. The game came to a halt as the grounds crew came out to fix the goal. Jamie jogged over to me, an excited look on his face.

            “How mint was that, eh, babe?” He asked, excitedly.

I shook my head handing him a water bottle.  “You could have made that easily.”

            “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” He grinned, downing the water.

As he did, I noticed Rupert on the field. Yes, Rupert Manion, as in the owner of West Ham, walking on the field like a villain from a Bond movie.

            “What the hell is he doing here?” Jamie snorted, watching the man.

            “Don’t know…” I murmured back. “But I’m going to find out, cover for me?”

Jamie nodded at me, turning back to the coaches, as I tried to wander over inconspicuously I made it seem like I was going to fill up my water bottle, trying to get within ear shot of whatever conversation they were having.

            “Tartt is out there doing whatever he fucking wants.” Rupert growled.

Oh. I see.

            “Yeah, but I’ve got two players on him already,” Cartwick responded. He looked terrified, and Rupert pressed further.

            “Take him out.” I stiffened, looking that way, as subtly as possible. No way he was implying what I thought he was.

            “Are you joking?” Cartwick retorted.

I looked back towards Jamie. If anyone got near him, I would kill them. I’d kill them with my bare hands.

            “Get rid of him.”

I was gripping the water bottle in my hand so tight I thought it would break. Water started overflowing, getting my arm wet but I couldn’t move. I thought that if I did I would go over and punch Rupert right across his stupid face.

            “I’m not playing the game like that,” George finally being a good person for once in his useless life.

            “You do what I say, or you are done,” Rupert threatened.

George started to reply when there was a thump that sounded, and I looked over finally. Rupert had pushed George to the ground, sending him flying and, unfortunately, revealing both of his testicles.

I flinched away, finally walking back over to our side. Jamie collected me, pulling me away from Rupert, even though we were already far enough.

            “What a fucking wanker,” he grumbled.

The crowd seemed to agree as Rupert started to walk off the field, shouting it at him over and over. Part of me felt bad for him- oh wait no it didn’t. He’d threatened Jamie Tartt. The love of my life, and I thought he deserved a lot worse than a bad name.

            “Everything alright?” Jamie seemed to notice my tense mood.

I looked back over at him, shaking my head. “Yeah, fine, just go out and smash it, yeah? Watch your left kick, you’re holding back.”

            “Heard,” he nodded, agreeing. “Anything else?”

            “Oh, yeah,” I imitated thinking. “I love you, and when you win, we’re gonna have banger sex tonight.”

He grinned wickedly at me. “Now that sounds like a plan?”

I could tell he wanted to kiss me, but we weren’t exactly public yet. Keeley said it would probably be a bad idea, might look bad for a coach to be dating their player. We weren’t a secret exactly either, but just private.

            “Go,” I pressed, pushing him away from me. He nodded, sending me a look that I could read. I love you, you’re amazing, thank you. I chewed my lip and nodded at him as well. I love you, too, go smash it.

The Hammers got control of the ball quickly and it seemed like they’d scored a pull-ahead goal but, as Ted pointed out, they had been offsides. That had been close, too close. We needed something. Jamie was trying to keep up his role as engineer, but he had been completely boxed in.

            “Okay. Come on. Talk to me, geese,” Ted brought is in.

We needed something they wouldn’t expect right now. Beard and Roy rattled off some plays, but I closed my eyes trying to picture the field, what I would be looking for. Jamie was who everyone was expecting to make a play, so we had to use him somehow, maybe as… as a fucking decoy.

 I opened my eyes and saw Ted looking at me. I could tell he’d just made the same connection I had.

            “Do you think it’ll work?” He asked me, cocking his head.

            “Definitely,” I stated, nodding firmly.

            “Alright, hold on,” he called over to Nate, getting him to come over to us before calling out to the boys. “Here hold this.” He mimed handing something to Nate, who took the invisible object. “IT’S AN OSCAR!” He shouted to the boys, giving Nate some instruction on how to hold it. “OR THE ESPY”

That seemed to resonate with the boys as they nodded finally, discussing amongst themselves.  They started off, Sam passing the ball to Dixon. Jamie sprinted into the box shouting wildly.

            “YEAH, YEAH! PASS ME THE BALL! ME, ME, ME! I WANT THE PALL! PASS ME THE BALL, PLEASE!”

I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. He really was selling it and it seemed to be working. There must have been four guys marking him. But Sam was left open and Dixon took his chance, passing him the ball. Then it happened, Sam took the shot.

            “Barbecue sauce.”

The ball soared into the goal, and we’d done it. The game ended shortly after. We’d won. Everything moved in slow motion, the cheer of the crowd, the jumping and celebrations, the ground shaking with excitement.

But I was just looking of one person. Jamie. I needed Jamie. And we locked eyes. His grey eyes stormy with excitement. I felt myself moving towards him, rushing onto the field to get to get to him as quick as I could. I jumped and he caught my in his arms, spinning me around, my legs flying behind me.

I took his face and kissed him. Right there. In front of everyone. I didn’t care anymore, I wasn’t his coach, I wasn’t anyone’s coach. And right now, Jamie Tartt needed a kissing. He stood there on the pitch, practically eating each other’s faces off until I remembered where we were and pulled away. He followed me, letting out a whine.

            “Not now,” I muttered to him, giggling. “Now we celebrate with them. But later…” I walked my fingers down his chest.

He grabbed my hand, tsking his tongue. “Don’t do that, love. Or I might just have to take you away right now.”

I shivered, tempted to let him do so. But then I looked over and saw Colin kissing his boyfriend, I saw Isaac and Sam hugging, I saw Ted starting to gain a crowd, probably ramping up to do something cheesy.

            “Let’s go celebrate, babe,” I said, taking his hand in mine.

We ran over to the group to watch Ted do his victory dance. We celebrated. We were on top of the world. That’s how I like to remember that time. The whole team together. All of us. I could see into the future. I could see Ted leaving, and that would be sad.

But I could also see Keeley and I giving Rebecca the plans for the AFC Richmond Women’s team. I could see Jamie and I going to Brazil together and Keeley and Roy joining us after the shoot was done. I could see Jamie reconnecting with his father, showing him exactly the man he’d become without him. I could see Roy and Nate running the team together brilliantly. I could see us, months from now, having dinner at Higgin’s house. The whole team, kids running in the yard, chatting with Roy and Keeley, laughing with Colin and Michael.

I could see happiness. A happiness that I didn’t have three years ago that I had now. A happiness that had been…

A Long Time Coming.

Taglist: @heletsmelovehim @higherthanheroes @ajax-petropolus-wife @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @kno-way-home @sleepy-time @wigglegiggle @skewedcherries @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @snubug @rana030 @ems-alexandra @jaymum @imfalling-inlove @littleesilvia @eugene-emt-roe

END NOTE: If you've made it this far, thank you. When Ted Lasso ended, I wasn't ready to say goodbye. I still had the characters and stories rattling around in my head. So I decided to write this, just to get it out of my head, as an OFC Fic on AO3 (That's being updated as well if you're interested in meeting my OC).

Coming to Tumblr was inspired by a number of writers. Specifically three people who I now am mutuals with and even would call my friends. @illiterateaffairs @its-time-to-write, @alwritey-aphrodite, and @sokkigarden. Each of them inspired my in their beautiful understanding of Jamie's character, their individual styles and personalities, all of them inspired me and encouraged me to continue my writing. They are truly such talents, and I respect them each individually very greatly.

Finally, I have to thank every single person who has liked, commented, reblogged, or even just scrolled through a chapter. every comment, I read, every reblog, I read. They all mean the world to me, and I know I say that a lot but I really mean it. I didn't expect this series to get any traction much less get me nearly 400 followers. You guys kept me going.

Thank you for reading. From me and Jamie <3

[mikachacha]

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛) 𝙿𝚝. 8

Synopsis: an audio of your argument with Bada was leaked out, Bada is receiving bad press and affecting team Bebe's overall performance and you decided to step in.

Warnings: this is just an emotional piece. some cursing but i swear this is gonna be a happy ending.

(A/N: We're on the last part of this series. Thank you everyone for supporting this story from the start until now. Love y'all and again, thank you so much for the support.)

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

It's been days since that emotional encounter with Bada and the audio of your conversation with her somehow got leaked to the internet. Many people had criticized Bada, even throwing hate at the team members as well but then there were people criticizing you as well. Mean comments have flocked your social media that some of your friends have stepped in to defend you but you know what could get you and team Bebe out of this situation. As much as you would like to just let Bada get dragged through the mud from all this, it didn't sit well with you that her team is getting bullied by people who don't know what happened just because they're on the same time. It wasn't fair. It's yours and Bada's problem, not theirs. They were out of it.

"Yeni, I'm planning something. For my own peace and for team Bebe to not get involved in mine and Bada's mess.. It's unfair, they're suffering because we were stupid back then. It doesn't sit right with me." you told Yeni. You're not her girlfriend yet but you wanted to be transparent with everything. You don't want to blind side her about your plans especially when it involves Bada.

"Do what you have to do, alright? I'm just gonna be here for you. Do what you think is right." Yeni says and gave you a hug to comfort you. You sighed and hugged her back before giving Bada a call and telling her about your plan. She was a bit hesitant at first but her team's reputation is at stake her. She could lose everything but her team, her friends doesn't deserve that. If someone has to suffer, it should be her.

You met Bada at her apartment. It was the very same apartment that you used to live in with her. You sat on the couch and set up your camera as you waited for Bada to settle down. You wanted to do a live on insta so both of you can come clean regarding about your past. To put an end to the unnecessary rumors and criticism especially towards Bada's team because they're really just casualties from your mess.

"So uhm hello everyone. It's me, Y/N and Bada's here with me. We wanted to address the audio that's now circulating the internet that caused quite a stir among fans and haters alike.." you started and you glanced at Bada who looks like she in the verge of crying.

"Yeah.. To be clear, what happened between me and Y/N is from three years ago. I met her while I was in the states. We became friends as we met on a dance studio and because we were both koreans, we bonded. We've known each other for more than a year before I asked her to be my girlfriend when she graduated from uni. The problems started when I came back here, with her in tow." Bada narrates and you held back a sniffle as you remembered all too well what happened after that. You held her hand in a comforting way as she excused herself for a bit since she couldn't prevent her tears from falling.

"So uhh.. I told her that we needed to pretend that we're just friends because my parents didn't knew at that time that I'm lesbian. I didn't know how to come out to them at that time so I forced my girlfriend to lie to save my own ass. It just kept getting worse, I was abusive. I was toxic. God knows how much I regretted those times of my life, those times in our relationship. I didn't treat her well. I took her for granted, took her love for granted. Whenever she would try to leave, I'd come up with ways to make her come back to me. I wanted her to stay with me but I really didn't make much efforts to make her stay. All I did was continue destroying our relationship, hurt her and make her suffer." Bada confessed and looked at you, her eyes reflected guilt and sadness.

"I know, I had a lot of chance to leave her and to never look back but I couldn't bring myself to do it because I was so in love with her. I thought things would change, things would get better between us if I stayed but sadly, it didn't. So I finally left. It wasn't easy, there were times that I thought about going back and beg her to take me back. I was angry with myself, angry at her and angry at everything because of what happened. But now, as we sat together inside the apartment we once called home together, there were some things that I realized. That I've been angry for too long, that even if I said that I've forgiven her and forgiven myself from that incident, I still haven't. That's why that audio came to be. But believe me, the rest of team Bebe is out of this. They didn't know anything so please, we are begging you to stop harassing them and calling them enabler because they aren't. Please leave them out of this.." you begged and soon, you ended the live feed. You turned to Bada and she pulled you in for a hug. Both of you just stayed like that for quite some time before you pulled away.

You cupped her cheeks and wiped her tears away, you gave her a smile as you rested your forehead against hers. This'll be the last time you're gonna be like this with Bada. You wanted to be finally be able to step forward, have a new beginning with Yeni.

"We may have failed in this lifetime but if given the chance to meet you in the next one, I wouldn't think twice about loving you again. But right now, we both need to move on and let go. For both our sakes.. I love you but it's time that we really finish this. Goodbye, Bada.. It may not have been great but I genuinely loved you." you told her and she hugged you tight, just sobbing in your arms. When she calmed down a bit, she gave you a kiss on the forehead and tried her best to give you a smile.

"If given a chance that I meet you again in my next life, I would treat you better and love you right. It may not have been perfect but I loved you, Y/N. Thank you for loving me so unconditionally despite everything I did to you. Thank you for making me feel the realest love I've ever known." she says and you nodded. You gave her hand a gentle squeeze as you willed yourself to not cry anymore.

"I forgive you, Bada. I forgive you and myself for everything that happened. I hope that we both find peace and happiness even if it's not with each other." was your words before you finally left that apartment. It was bittersweet yet you know it was for the best.

After that live video, things went a bit better for team Bebe and people soon forgot about the issue. You continued to work as Jam Republic's translator and you started dating Yeni as you finally felt like you're ready for this fresh start and it was the best decision you've made. She treated you like the most important person in the world and made sure to give you everything you never experienced with Bada.

Meanwhile, Bada sold the apartment you once shared with her as she also wanted to move on. To let go of the guilt and the memories of you and her. She heard you were dating Yeni and she felt a pang of hurt at the news but she really hopes that Yeni won't make the same mistakes as she did. That hopefully you finally found your happiness in Yeni's love because you deserve all the good things in life.

———;

@lil-elliesgf @efyyylee @hwm1hyun @mikaleialt @bunnywonyo @badaswifey @mrs-grim-reaper @b1ackbunny @wifey-badalee

[onyourhyuck]

Heart 2 Heart. | L.DH

— Prologue: “I don’t think i can handle you being so far away this time.”

— Summary: Your boyfriend has a heart to heart moment with you again, because he’s going on a worldwide tour.

— Genre: Wholesome. Slightly angsty. Suggestive (hints). Domesticboyfriend!haechan. This will make you cry and emotional.

— Notes: p.s Cried writing this.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your boyfriend was your best friend. You couldn’t imagine what your life would be like without Donghyuck and frankly you don’t wish to imagine it. It would most likely be a dull, very boring and difficult life for you. He made every core memory possible and special.

Even though he was occupied almost everyday he still makes time for you, his lovely girlfriend. The one he comes home to. The one he can relax and not put up a persona with like he does to thousands and thousands of people watching him entertain them.

He doesn’t need to do anything flashy or anything to impress you because he knows you understand that sometimes he wants to chill and take a relaxing break with you laying in. Who doesn’t love a good night in with your favourite movies, for Donghyuck it would be the Kissing Booth, for you it’s probably Nine Tails starring Dongwook.

You both fit each other just right. Balance each other in a way as if you guys were scales. You both need each other to become harmonious together but what happens when one day your boyfriend comes home with the intention to tell you he’s leaving.

Again, he’s leaving.

Lately your boyfriend’s group has been travelling a lot. It started with Japan performances which you were so happy for and he could come back after two or three days performing in that country. But now it’s extending to regions beyond your time zone.

You couldn’t help but ponder so many thoughts. You can’t imagine your day without him and even though phones exist, you could text and what not, it simply wasn’t enough for you.

He sat down in front of you facing you with stern eyes and you nervously trail. “What’s this?” You try to lighten the mood up.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything until you took large guesses. “Wait don’t tell me…” you point your eyes at his hands in his pockets suspiciously you watch them. “You are proposing to me?” You gape and Donghyuck’s eyes widen.

“Yah, Y/n don’t you think marriage is a bit too soon for us?” He said to you couldn’t believe your first assumption was marriage.

You look away pouting a little. “It was worth a guess. Anyways what’s the big news?”

“I’m going on a tour again.”

The time stopped around you and suddenly he could see your throat tense up. Your mouth fell into a thin line voiding away from saying anything. Don’t get yourself wrong you are happy for Donghyuck, you’re thrilled but you couldn’t help but think this might strain your relationship with him. You don’t want to lose him but you don’t want him to lose his job so you do your best to support him from the shadows, watching every performance and cheering them all to success. But your boyfriend can see right through your heart broken eyes. He can see that you’re half disappointed and half happy for him.

You look down at your hands seeing your fingers chip on your fingertips fiddling with them to distract yourself from the grave news.

“I’m happy for you hyuck. Where are you going now?” You change the subject quickly, asking him where and what the destination was. But a deep part of you was scared to know where he is flying to now.

His voice came out soft and so distant when he was talking about the tour to you. “America. We will be touring twenty states there.” Your eyes fell out your sockets or it rather felt like it, goddam twenty states and you were trying to put it into the calendar. It would take a whole month and a half probably.

He saw your expression go from hidden to completely transparent as you were crying suddenly and he stood there frozen like a statue when tears ran down your cheeks.

You blame your separation anxiety but you also blame your stupid feelings getting in the way of you being able to support your boyfriend. You didn’t want him to see you like this, you’re afraid it might ruin the tour for him and all the excitement in his body. You could see how happy he was, but you weren’t matching the energy and it was difficult to tell.

“Hey Y/n… come here… let’s have a Heart to Heart talk. I knew you’d get like this you didn’t have to hide your feelings. Come let’s talk.” Donghyuck softly encourages you to stand up when he holds your hand pulling you on his lap where you curl enough to have your chess on his chest sobbing.

He cradled you in his arms like you were a cat snuggling closer for warm hugs but you were bawling and he coos at you, treating you like you were a soft porcelain doll that could break from the slightest things he could say.

He kisses your head multiple times, which left your heart feeling numb and beating so quickly. He was being soft with you, somehow you feel like Donghyuck was sympathising with you and how you are feeling in this potential position he was putting you in constant. Sure, he could never feel how you truly feel but he can understand why you feel this way and he doesn’t hold it against you.

“Twenty states… Donghyuck that’s the furthest you’ve been away from me…” your voice breaks speaking more and he looks at you.

Donghyuck stares at you quietly when putting his finger on your red soft wide lips staring down at them. “I know Y/n… it’s not easy for you. I can understand that but why don’t you try for me here… I know you can be able to do it. You’re the strongest person by my side.” He rubs your stained cheeks with your tears and you felt his sincere, the most sincere words from his mouth become true.

“I don’t think i can handle you being so far away this time.” You said feeling scared what could happen if he was in such a foreign place you don’t know anything about.

He smiles and you sat up on his lap straddling his legs and going to give him a warm long lasting hug where your red nose from crying hard sniffles. He rubs the back of your head, listening to your beating heart beat that’s probably thumping so much from how you were overthinking this whole situation. He doesn’t blame you, but Donghyuck doesn’t like seeing you cry, at least not like this.

“I promise that when I’m away you will always be on my mind. You always are. Without a question, and me being in America won’t change that.”

You could feel the heat coming from his mouth speaking down your neck. He kisses your cheeks pulling apart to look you in your eyes and you felt your lips fall apart as he smiles at you.

“Understand, Y/n?” He says wiping your bangs away from your face, keeping all the hair out of your beauty that could block it.

You look down biting your lip. “Yeah… I do. Im happy for you. I really am Hyuck. You have no idea how proud I am to be your girlfriend and someone to see you become something big you’ve always wanted to be when you were little.”

“But when I say I want to build a house with you, using the same fence as yours, I really mean it.” You croak out rubbing your eyes again as they start to tear you apart once more. He could finally see your true feelings that maybe, you felt slightly uncomfortable being this far away from your home.

Your home, Lee Donghyuck.

He bites his bottom lip, pressing his forehead in your shoulders covering his face as he clenched his jawline. He felt his own eyes water but somehow he was trying not to touch your emotions too much. He shouldn’t cry because he wants to comfort you. But he failed and the minute you heard him softly escape a cry out you wrapped your arms round him comforting your boyfriend’s heart.

You didn’t say anything but listen to your cries out loud as a way to cope with your emotions but somehow you both felt relieved. You cried it out together, you helped each other out together, you never backed away, or shy away from each others emotions you faced them head on.

It’s something you found to love in your relationship with Donghyuck. He was there for you and you were there for him when he needed someone the most. When he couldn’t find someone to turn to, you were there with your open arms for him to take and hold on to. You’re his foundation.

And he’s your home. You’re his land and he’s the home you build in that land that’s keeping him strong.

“I love you, Y/n.” His fingers wrap round your fingers suddenly in a warmth scape you find them becoming more comfortable in the holding gaze than they were outside of it. Your fingers were perfect, fitting right into his own hands.

Your eyes look up at him when Donghyuck lifts his face. It became flushed with tears straining his beautiful tan skin and his dark puffy upper hair that looks like the softest silk in the entire world made you feel like you totally bagged a jackpot. Lee ‘effortlessly attractive’ Donghyuck was in front of you making it hard not to stare him down like he was everything you’ve ever wanted, like he was your ideal meal you could devour on pure endurance of this planet.

You felt your skin grew warmer and warmer and your heart become lighter than before. You found yourselves in your comforting bodies more than anyone else’s and somehow this Heart 2 Heart brought you closer than before.

“I love you Donghyuck.” You reply back with your cheeks growing up smiling at him. Donghyuck returns the smile through passing a small sensual kiss on your lips with his.

He smiles through your shared loving kiss your heads moving in synch together, like two breathes joining unison together with your own heart. He didn’t dare stop kissing you, in fact he kissed you like you were the only thing he would ever want to kiss and nothing else ever again, nothing, could compare the way your lips have felt on his lips. So warm and so soft to compare to anything on earth it did not exist. Your love was better than Venus, your heart was better than anyone’s he knows.

It all took a Heart 2 Heart to realise that being apart from Donghyuck will not break you apart. It won’t change the fact that this boy in front of you inhaling your mouth and your oxygen from your body like it’s the last thing he will do to make you realise that the distance between you and him is nothing. Your love was stronger than this.

Now he’s going to make you realise it by giving you a long night of his passionate feelings in one go to make you feel and realise what he feels for you is more than this tour he could ever go on.

Your heart and his heart matters only.

Heart 2 Heart.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Please reblog and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out <3

[strangersteddierthings]

Steve, Gareth and Chrissy are cousins AU (sad edition) [prologue] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Final Part]

"Oh Boom!" Steve cheers, stepping though the plants, "Bada bing, bada boom! There she is, Henderson. Skull Rock. In your face, man. In your stupid, cocky little face."

"Doesn't make sense," Dustin mutters, following after him.

"Yeah, yeah. Even with it staring you in the face, you can't admit it. Can't admit you're wrong, you butthead," Steve says, one hand on his hip as he looks up at Skull Rock.

"I concur," Eddie's voice is preceded by the thump of his landing, which causes Steve and Dustin to turn around to, "You, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead."

"You son of a bitch!" a different, familiar voice shouts, and Steve watches, to his increasing horror, as Gareth rounds the rock Eddie just jumped off and beelines for Steve. He's too shocked to do anything other than watch as Gareth plants his palms to Steve's chest and shoves.

Steve goes down hard, arms pinwheeling. He hears several people call his name but the white noise his brain is generating has blocked out everything except Gareth. Gareth, who stands before him, chest heaving in his anger, hand back to his sides and fists clenched.

"Where were you!?" Gareth screams at him, and Steve can see tears threatening to fall. "Where the fuck have you been?"

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Robin asks, stepping forward and into Steve's periphery. The white noise quiets just a bit as he watches Robin whip to Eddie. "Who is he?"

Eddie says something back, but Steve doesn't fully hear it before Gareth has taken a step forward, closer, pulling all his attention again and Gareth asks again, quietly, "Where were you?"

Steve swallows, looking Gareth up and down. He's dirty, much like Eddie, and not wearing shoes. Why isn't he wearing shoes? What happened to them? He looks back up to Gareth's face. To the anger he can see, is sure everyone else can see, too. But, also, to the sorrow, the fear, the hurt underneath it all. Steve opens his mouth, a thousand questions on his tongue. Where are your shoes? How did you get here? When? I tried to keep you out of this, I wanted to keep you out of this. Why are you here? But, instead, what comes out is, "I'm sorry."

Those words seem to break Gareth. A choked off sob rips from his throat and he drops to his knees, curling in on himself. Steve, always protective, moves to comfort him at the same time as Eddie does but Eddie beats him there, kneeling down to be at Gareth's side, concern etched in every line of him. Eddie places a hand on Gareth's back, near his shoulder, rubbing small, soothing circles there.

It makes something squeeze deep inside of him, to see Eddie caring for Gareth so much, even as Eddie is now glaring at Steve in defense of whatever slight he thinks Steve has caused. Or maybe he knows. Maybe Gareth told him. Told him how Steve is the worst cousin in the world, failed to protect Chrissy. Failed Gareth, too, since he's here, barefoot in the middle of the goddamn woods instead of safe in his home.

Robin's arm hooking under Steve's own breaks him from his thoughts. He lets Robin help him stand, and watches as Eddie does the same for Gareth, and for a moment, the whole forest is quiet.

But they have Dustin with them, so that doesn't last long. "Can someone explain what the hell is going on? Why's Gareth here?"

Steve doesn't even have it in himself to scold Dustin for his language.

Eddie and Gareth exchange looks, a silent communication so like how he is with Robin that it gut-punches him, and then Eddie says, "it's, uhh, quite a story."

"Start telling it, then," Nancy says gently but still with her usual no nonsense undertone.

They get a story told by both. When Eddie pauses, Gareth picks up the tale, and the vice versa. When Gareth gets choked with emotion, such as explaining that Chrissy is his cousin, Eddie takes over and explains. He says nothing about Steve, doesn't even imply he knows more, so... maybe Gareth hasn't told him Steve is also his cousin?

Then they talk about Patrick and Nancy wants to know the time, and soon it's back to dealing with the Upside Down. Something's up with Dustin's compass they have to go investigate now, and Steve thinks everyone's forgotten the weird tension of Gareth shoving him down and demanding to know where he's been.

Everyone but Robin, it seems, who hangs back to ask about it as they follow Dustin and his broken compass.

"So, how do you know Gareth?" Robin asks, uncertain.

Steve frowns at the back of Gareth's head, where he walks ahead with Dustin and Eddie. "He's my cousin."

"Oh!" Robin's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, looking from Gareth to Steve, as if she can spot a family resemblance from the back of Gareth's head. "How did I not know that?"

"Gareth asked to pretend we weren't related when he started high school," Steve shrugs. "Was afraid it would ruin his 'street cred'."

"What a nerd."

"Right?" Steve chuckles at that and they walk in silence for a bit longer before Robin gasps like she's dying. A realization.

"Steve," she breaths out, a hand flying out to grab onto Steve's shoulder in an almost painful grip. He's so glad she's keeping quiet, as she whispers, "was Chrissy your cousin, too?"

Steve swallows and nods.

"Steve, I-"

"No. Not now. Not the time," Steve cuts her off, prying his hand from her arm. "Please, Robbie. I can't think about that now. Please."

Robin doesn't look happy about the development but she gives a nod, swallowing around the lump in her throat now.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Though The Path May Be Long, I Shall Find You; Ruggie Bucchi

A path lies ahead, some are more treacherous than others. At the end of the winding, coloured footsteps is where they can rest; a bird directing them forward, made out of precious stone.

Main Character; Ruggie Bucchi

Supporting Roles; Grandma Bucchi, Rho (Ruggie's bird)

Content; Soulmate AU (I use the term soul match), gender-neutral reader, this can be read as platonic, familial, or romantic, hurt/comfort, I get emotional yet again about Ruggie, stressed reader

Content Warning; Ruggie's backstory (his mom's death and I mention childbirth, but describe nothing), self-doubt (reader), allusions of depression (reader), anxiety attacks (reader)

Word Count; 5 K

Do not put mine - or other creators' - works into AI; that shit steals.

Prologue & Leona's Story | Jack's Story

Ruggie was out with the adults, tagging along to collect honey to bring back to the village. He followed silently behind his grandmother, holding her hand. Ahead of them two birds flew ahead, honeyguides, singing their song to alert the beastmen that there was a hive ahead. A hive full of sweet honey, a rare treat saved for the elderly and the young of the village.

“You see those birds, Ruggie,” his grandmother nodded up to where the birds flew. “Those are honeyguides. Your mother…” The woman paused, taking in a calming breath. It’s been nearly five years since her daughter, her only child, had passed away due to complications from childbirth. Unfortunately, it was common for many first-time hyena beastmen to pass while delivering… and such a fate fell upon her. She shook her head, continuing with her tale. “Your mother, her messenger was a honeyguide.”

Ruggie looked up to his grandmother. “Mama had one of those birds?” He tried whistling the tune of their leading song, but it just came out as raspberries.

His grandmother chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Yes, and oh the trouble those two got into. How do you think I got all this grey hair?” She tugged at a few strands to prove her point. She did their whistle, going slowly so that Ruggie could practice alongside her. “Like this.”

Ruggie eventually got the call down and whistled towards the other adults, and the two honeyguides. “Gramma?” He tugged at her shirt. She looked down and picked him up, putting him up on her shoulders. “Do you think my messenger will be a honeyguide… just like Mama’s?”

She smiled bittersweetly, picturing the rose quartz bird that stood still by the only pictures she had of her daughter. “Hmm, maybe. But that’s for the winds to decide. Regardless though, they’ll bring you great happiness.”

“Gramma?” Ruggie placed his head on top of hers. “What’s your messenger? Did Mama meet her soul match? Did you meet yours?”

The birds stopped, as they arrived at the hive. The adults tasked with smoking the bees out got to their jobs, passing down honey from the rock crevice and putting aside some of the comb for the birds. This harvest looked like it would be enough to feed both the elders and the children, plus some extra left over for the harvesters.

Ruggie’s grandmother hummed to herself. “I think that’s a story for a later time, no? Now come on, try some of this honey, it’s the sweetest I’ve ever had in all my years.”

She never got her messenger. Never had been gifted a soul match by the King of Beasts or the southern winds. And her daughter had met her match, but then he left after her death; her messenger going still after her passing. Leaving the ageing woman all alone, with only a few photos, her daughter’s lifeless messenger, and Ruggie. The person who looked the most like her.

…

The stars twinkled in the night sky, and Ruggie reached his hand out. “Hi, Mama,” he whispered. “I hope you’re doing okay up there in the stars… Tomorrow is my birthday ya know! I’m getting a messenger, just like you did!”

A gentle warm breeze caressed his face, and a shooting star raced against the deep indigo sky. Make a wish. Ruggie clamoured over the window, the breeze playing with his hair. He leaned against the frame, and closed his eyes. “Mama, if you’re up there listening… I wish that you could be my messenger. I know that I never got the chance to meet you, to get to know you, but I want to. I want to get to know you. And I know that you can’t be here, but … I love you, Mama.”

He cracked open his eyes and saw that the entire night sky was filled with shooting stars, a sign of a good omen. The warm breeze tickled his nose before going back out of the window. In the distance, he could hear a lone hyena calling out to its clan, but no one called back. He looked out into the sea of shooting stars and located the star he designated for his mom; an orange star, large, but not super noticeable. A warm amber amongst the darkness of the sky and pale blues of other stars.

He yawned and went back to his bed, clutching on to one of his mom’s old stuffies; a patched up warthog. “Good night, Mama, I love you.” He closed his eyes and was off to the land of dreams.

The light breeze was back, warm and carrying the scent of honey. It carried a small pink crystal bird with it, placing it gently at the foot of the bed, looking after Ruggie’s sleeping form. A honeyguide, much like his own late mother’s. It too being made out of pink crystal, but rhodochrosite, not rose quartz. A crystal meaning compassion, love, comfort, and happiness.

When Ruggie woke up he stared at the bird before cradling it gently to his heart. He walked to his grandmother’s door. “Look, gramma, it’s just like Mama’s!”

His grandmother hugged him, clutching on tightly to his back, tears rolling down her cheeks. Perhaps this life had been cruel to her, but she at least knew that her grandson, her only family, had someone out there. And that maybe, just maybe, her daughter was looking down from the stars smiling and looking out for her son.

…

…

…

Ruggie kept his messenger on him at all times. When he was wearing his dorm uniform, he kept the pink bird on a braided necklace that his grandmother made him for his fifth birthday, using some fabric from one of his mother’s old scarves. Whereas, when he was in the school uniform he kept it in his breast pocket, above his heart. And he would subconsciously check throughout the day to make sure that it was still there, a habit of his. 

It’s been four years, and yet the bird has yet to come to life. But Ruggie didn’t feel bitter, or sad. He knew that life wasn’t fair, he has witnessed that much. He has lived it, experienced that it wasn’t fair. Knew that it was something you could only make the best of. He also knew that he shouldn’t complain. He was thankful that he had at least something to match his mother. A symbol that she was always looking after him. So, even if the messenger never came to life, he could at least have an aspect of his mother. Thankful that there was at least a chance of him having a soul match out there, somewhere.

He hadn’t told his grandmother, as he didn’t want to bring a sense of sadness; had she not gone through enough? The last thing that he wanted to do was to bring more pain to the ageing woman’s heart. He just wanted her to be happy. She had done so much for him, sacrificed so much; the least he could do was give her some hope. That he could bring their family out of poverty. That he could get a well-paying job. That he could find happiness. That she needs not to worry about him. That he would be okay. That they would be okay.

Besides, the new school year was beginning and he was positive that would mean that Leona would give him odd jobs to do. But hey, money is money, and he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when said gift horse paid him graciously. 

So, Ruggie was busying himself by rearranging his room, placing the few personal belongings that he had in their spots. The photo of him and his grandmother, and next to it, the warthog plush that belonged to his mom. Everything else was hand-me-downs from Leona, or related to schoolwork. The only other personal things he had was the braided necklace, and of course, his messenger. He whistled the honeyguide call to himself, making sure everything was in place. Leona was off at the ceremony, so he basically had the day free to himself. He could probably go off and work some odd errands, but just for today, he would relax.

He closed his eyes and rubbed the wings of the stone bird. “I know you’re out there. I want to find you,” he sighed, holding the bird to his chest. “Let me find you.” He tried to fight off the drowsiness that was taking hold — it wasn’t even nighttime yet — but it won in the end, and he fell asleep.

As the sun set, and the waning moon rose, a warm breeze carried the scent of hibiscus flowers and honey, ruffling his hair. The stone bird tumbled out of Ruggie’s hand, falling gently onto the blankets. The breeze caressed it, and the stone honeyguide ruffled its feathers for the first time. It hopped upright and nestled in the sleeping hyena-beastman’s hair, singing its guiding call softly.

…

Ruggie stretched awake, the room still dark as the sun had not yet woken up for the day. The waning moon, and stars provided the only light, casting the room in blue and silver light. He walked over to the window and looked out, searching for his mom’s star. “Hi mom,” he said to the warm amber star up in the sky. A warm breeze tickled his ears, and he imagined it was her playing with them. “Can you show me a sign?” About my soul match?

Something shifted under the bedsheets, and Ruggie’s ears twitched at the noise. He crept over to the bed, and lifted up the sheet carefully, unsure of what it could be. Underneath the blanket was the stone honeyguide, twitching in its sleep.

His eyes widened, and he carefully scooped up the little bird, cradling it in his hands. After all of these years. After all of the hardships that he has endured. All of the uncertainty. His soul match was here. He took in a sharp breath, trying to control the well of emotions that had sprung forth; that his soul match was alive, and that maybe his mother, and not the King of Beasts, had sent him a sign. That he wouldn’t be alone in this life. But a lone tear traced down the planes of his face, dropping onto the bird.

This is your sign, take it, my love.

…

…

…

You didn’t know what to make of any of this. Being transported into some dimension and waking up in a coffin of all things. That you now live in a decrepit mansion with some cat-monster and ghosts. That magic existed and you had several life-endangering encounters with said magic. And that you now have a small bird made out of pink crystal, and that it was alive. That it could talk.

“You know,” the bird hopped onto your head, “I can’t explain more than you need to be privy to.” Their voice played in your mind, and you tried to ignore them, instead focusing on the tall stack of books about dimensions; trying to find a way home.

You waved a hand around, forcing the bird to take flight, landing on your desk. “I am well aware of that, since you dodge every single one of my questions,” you huff, flipping over the page since it had nothing relevant about your situation. It only said that giraffes were originally demons hailing from the Boiling Isles, wherever that was. This dimension had evil giraffes, but apparently your dimension without magic was far more ludicrous than that. Predictable. “So if you aren’t going to be helpful, just leave me alone. I don’t need your ‘help’.”

The bird gave you a bombastic glare, huffing to itself it went to a small dark brown leather bound journal with the gold insignia of a lion and a hornbill, placing it in front of you. “No need to get snippy with me. Here, read this, it should explain everything you need to know. I can’t do anything else pertaining to your questions now though, know that.” With that, the bird took off through the window, off to who knows where. 

You sighed, but focused on the journal they put in front of you and cracked open the centuries old leather.

Of all the magic there is in Twisted Wonderland, the most coveted, the most revered, is the magic of soul matches. These matches come in many different forms, different for every person. Platonic. Familial. Romantic. Those are the most common. For the merfolk it is a song that only they can hear, their match tugging at their soul. Gifted to them by the benevolence of the Sea Witch. For fae it is yet to be revealed, as they are a secretive lot. Fearing that should anyone outside of their clan know that that information would be used against them. All that is known by outsiders is that they were gifted from the Thorn Fairy, a blessing. As for beastmen, and anyone hailing from the Sunset Savanaclaw, they were gifted bird messengers made from precious stone. It is said the crystal represents what their match will bring to them. And once they feel that they are ready, a glowing path of footsteps will lead them to their match. The birds will dance, and then they will know that they have found each other.

You placed the journal back down, brows creasing. You weren’t from the Sunset Savannah, let alone this dimension in the first place. How on Earth do you have a messenger? Why do you have a messenger? And what did it mean? I’m not ready for this… I don’t think I’ll ever be.

…

…

Ruggie had formed a friendship with his bird, and he even gave her a name; Rho. She doted over him, and her voice was what he imagined his mother’s was like; confident, caring, and warm. And even though he had a friendship with her, he has yet to see the glowing footsteps. He was more than ready to meet them, so it must mean that his soul match, whoever they were, wasn’t. 

“It’s unlike you to dwell on possibilities,” Rho said, landing on his shoulder, returning from one of her daily flights. “Uncertainty clouds your mind, much as the smoke from a brush fire does. Clogging out any possible light from the bright sun that lies beyond the thick smoke.” Rho also happened to be quite poetic and… concerning? But she was sweet, so he ignored the cryptic verses.

Ruggie shook his head, trying to centre his mind. “Hmm? Just thinking is all. Ya don’t need to worry about me, Rho. Shishishi!” But she was right, as his mind tended to go down the more pessimistic path.

What if his soul match was never ready? What if they didn’t want to find him? What if they would reject him after finding out about the cards he was dealt in life? Would they stay by his side as he pulled himself, his family, and his community out of poverty? Would they… would they be like his ‘dad’ and ditch him in hopes of better prospects elsewhere, never to come back? To leave him behind? Leaving him alone to take care of everything, with no one to turn to for support?

Rho sighed, and hopped onto his head, ruffling his hair. “See, uncertainty. A tree cannot grow if it does not receive sunlight. And you cannot grow if you doubt yourself.”

He rolled his eyes, but she was right, as per usual. “Yeah yeah, I know,” he sounded relaxed but he took the words to heart. It’s something his grandma would also tell him, albeit she would get straight to the point. Something like, Quit doubting yourself. You are more than capable. Plus I love ya, and that’s what matters!

But Rho looked unconvinced. “If you want, I can go… persuade their bird to encourage them to meet you.”

“Thought that was against the rules though?” Messengers aren’t allowed to disclose any information that could change their match’s mind on whether they wanted to meet or not. He had no idea why, but it was seen as a big no-no. “Didn’t take you as the rule breaking type.”

Rho flitted down to the windowsill, looking out into the Savanaclaw Dorm exterior. “As long as I don’t let anything slip, it is fine. A gentle nudge if you will. And technically, I am breaking no rules. Just paying a visit to my counterpart to discuss their progress. That is all.”

Ruggie raised a brow, chuckling to himself. “Shishishi, you’re a horrible liar,” he poked her on the nose. “Just don’t get caught, okay?”

Rho nipped at him and took off into flight. “Need not to worry.” She didn’t add her own thought, which was I’m unsure if they will be able to see me or not. It’s been several weeks since they arrived and I’ve seen no sign of them.

…

The bird has persisted to follow you everywhere you went; to all your classes, and you had to kick it out of the washroom on several occasions as well. Everywhere. And they. Would. Not. Shut. Up.

“Hey! Hey! You really need to find them!” They pulled at your uniform, trying to get your attention. “Hellooooo! Are you even listening to me?”

Unfortunately, yes. All you wanted to do was get back home. Yes, you have made friends here. You had fun. But you didn’t belong here, or least, you felt like you didn’t belong. The magicless Prefect from another, magicless, dimension. The closest thing you could even call family here would be Grim, and the three main ghosts who are still tethered to the Ramshackle Dorm. Stuck here without any clear way out, much like you are.

You glared at the bird, looking away from the nth book about different dimensions, still finding dillidy squat. “Yes,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I heard you the first time. But until I find answers, they can wait. They’ve waited this long, I can survive without them.”

The bird plopped itself onto the book, effectively preventing you from reading any further. “Exactly. They’ve waited for this long. They thought that there was no one out there for them. I know that you’re tired; tired of not getting answers. Tired of being treated as less than due to your situation. Tired of not knowing. But know this; there is someone who wants nothing more than to meet you. They don’t care that you don’t have magic. They don’t care that you’re from a different place. They just want to know you.”

That made you pause in your research, hands trembling. They were right. You are exhausted from everything. 

“Now now,” a second voice played in your head, the voice of a woman. But when you looked up you saw another crystal bird, the only thing differing it from yours was that it had more red and white bands. “No need to be nasty. Dear, come now. What is weighing so heavily on your mind?”

Unlike your bird, this newcomer was gentle, and didn’t prod you. They hopped forward, wiping a tear from your face. Since when had you started crying? But the few pebbles that were trying to hold together the dam came surging forward, and the new bird comforted you, wiping your tears away.

“Dear, you’ll be okay,” they said, handing you a tissue. “You don’t always have to be strong. There is no weakness in admitting that you need help. That not everything is okay. There is strength in that.”

The flood of emotions, of stress, of anxiety, of being overworked, of being everyone’s therapist calmed down from a raging torrent to a gentle trickle. Taking the tissue you blew your nose. “I don’t feel okay… I’m so,” you took in a choked breath, “tired.” It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, admitting to the truth. “I’m just so tired. I should be angry, but I’m just so tired.”

The bird put a wing on your face, holding it with care, with love. They had only just met you but have shown so much more kindness and empathy than anyone else during your stay. “Life has not been kind to you,” they said, rubbing grounding circles onto your palms, guiding your breathing. “You deserve to feel wanted. Deserve compassion. To be comforted when the dark clouds seem like they engulf all light. You deserve to be happy.”

“Why are you telling me all this,” you croaked, voice cracking. “I’ve ignored them-”

The pink bird shook their head, “No, you’ve been surviving, and adapting. But if you wish, if you are ready, you can find him.” They hopped back up to the open window, looking at you warmly. A soft breeze played with the ragged curtains, carrying the scent of honey, but also the smell of home. “Will you be alright?”

You rubbed at your nose, still feeling shaky but better. Not feeling like a water balloon about to burst. “I will be.”

The bird nodded, “Should you need anything do call. Your match calls me Rho.” They took flight, heading back to your match. And you could make out the faintest hints of glowing dandelion-yellow footsteps fading into the distance.

…

…

Ruggie had not had much free time for himself, being busy with schoolwork, lessons from Leona, and his normal workload alongside odd jobs to make some extra cash to send home. But even with the hustle and bustle, he had noticed the footsteps. They were faint, sometimes wavering, but they were there. It means that they’re open to meeting him, but not quite sure. Still some doubt in their mind.

“What did you tell them?” He looked up from the dishes he was scrubbing, filling in a shift at the Mostro Lounge.

Rho popped out from his breast pocket, climbing up to his shoulder. “That they aren’t alone. That they will be okay.”

Ruggie felt like there was something heavy in his throat. They feel alone? They aren’t okay? “Rho,” his grip on the plate that he was scrubbing tightened, and he forced himself to release it before he caused cracks. “What did you do? Where are they?”

“Ruggie, they will be okay. I told them words that they needed to hear. Affirming words.” Rho’s voice took on a more stern tone, which made Ruggie back off, but he still worried. “What did we say about dwelling on things outside of our control?”

Ruggie took in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and released, calming his mind. “That it’s like the smoke of a brush fire. That beyond the dark smoke, there is sky beyond it, and fresh air… this too will pass.”

Rho let out a guiding call, “Good-”

Ruggie quickly grabbed her and put Rho in his pocket, hearing the door from the kitchen open. He didn’t want someone to walk in and find him ‘talking to air’ and think he was slacking off. “How is everything goin’ on out there?” He got back to scrubbing dishes, covering up that he was previously not.

“Quiet,” you huffed, putting on an apron and coming to stand next to him. “Azul has been trying to butter me up into making a contract with him… again.” You shook your head, rolling your eyes, “But I reminded him of what happened last time and he left well enough alone.”

Ruggie relaxed, it was just you. “Heyya, Prefect. Long time no see? Decided you were too good for Savanaclaw, huh?” He teased, bumping his shoulder to yours.

You bumped him back. Ever since you had to crash at Savanaclaw, you had formed a friendship with the hyena-beastman. He didn’t hide behind a mask, he was authentic, and that put you at ease. “Pshh,” you swatted at him with a towel, “like you could really get rid of me that easily, gotta come over and bug Leona every now and then. Keep him humble.”

“Pftt,” Ruggie burst out laughing. “Yeah, ‘keep him humble’. Just as long as ya don’t mess with him too much, yeah? Remember, I usually do his work.” There was no bite, and he swatted you back. “These dishes won’t clean themselves, come one, before Azul finds us slackin’ off.”

You quirked a brow but got to work, you would rather do the dishes and make light conversation, or just enjoy the quiet, with Ruggie, than deal with rude customers or being roped into something. So you and Ruggie worked in relative silence, working on getting the large pile of dishes done. The only thing breaking the silence being the distinct whistle Ruggie did quietly.

“Just curious, but what kind of whistle is that?” You put down the large pan you were rinsing off, down to dry, turning to Ruggie.

Ruggie stopped, his left ear twitching. “Ah, it’s just something I picked up when I was younger.” But he could see the curiosity in your eyes, and he decided to humour you. “It’s a honeyguide call, a type of bird. We used to work with them back at home to collect honey.”

Why does it sound so familiar then? Where have I heard it before? “Could you show me how to do it?”

As Ruggie taught you how to make the call, the two of you failed to notice Rho slip out of his pocket, flying up to where your bird rested. “We should just tell them! Look! The footprints are right there! Are they that dense?!” They huffed.

Rho shook her head, “They will do so on their accord. For now, let them be. They’re happy.”

…

…

The footsteps were glowing brightly now, a bright, warm, dandelion yellow. Cheerful, playful, and happy. But you hadn’t followed them yet, doubt still on your mind. Why did someone else get to pick my soul match? Shouldn’t I have a say in this? But every time those doubts came forward, the other pink bird, Rho she said her name was, would come for a visit.

“Good day, Prefect. How are you faring today?” She hopped over to your desk where you had a book about this world open, reading about beastmen and Sunset Savannah cultural practices.

You placed a bookmark on the page you were on, which discussed the caste system. “Doing better. But, Rho?” You held out a finger, and she hopped on. “I’m curious; what kind of bird are you?”

Rho cocked her head, “Ah, I thought you knew. My dear, I am a honeyguide.” She let out a call.

“A honeyguide…” You froze in your seat. It’s a honeyguide call. You knew you had heard that call before, your own messenger waking you up every morning with it. Did that mean… was Ruggie your soul match? The honeyguide. The feeling that everything would work out for the better when you were around Ruggie. He just felt… correct to you. Like home.

You rushed towards the front door, Rho and your own honeyguide clutching onto your uniform for dear life. “AFTER ALL THESE MONTHS YOU CHANGE YOUR HEART?!” Your honeyguide shrieked, falling off.

“Hush you!” Rho scolded, sending off your messenger to find Ruggie. “I take it you connected the dots then? You don’t need to rush, dear.” She said.

You didn’t slow down though, if anything you sped up. “My match is Ruggie, isn’t he?” It was stated like a question, but you knew that it was a statement. “I’ve kept him waiting! Kept him out!” You knew a bit about what Ruggie’s life was like before attending Night Raven College. That fate had seemed to mock him… and you also mocked him unknowingly.

Rho pulled on your ear, pulling you out of your spiral. “You weren’t ready, you cannot and should not blame yourself! You were making the best out of your situation!” This was the first time that Rho had sounded upset.

You stopped your frantic pace, halting in the middle of the hallway. Students passed by, some giving you weird looks, but they continued on their way. But someone stopped, and stepped aside, watching.

“I hurt him!” You shouted, but no one but you, and your match could hear when you spoke to your birds. “Hasn’t he been hurt enough?”

The footsteps were blinding now, he couldn’t be far away.

“Doesn’t he deserve to be happy? Don’t I deserve to be happy?! Why should some long ago king dictate how we should be happy?! We didn’t ask for this! Any of this!” You were heaving, the dam of emotions breaking again, tears rushing down your face in full force. “Rho,” you whispered, “I just want a place to call home. It doesn’t need to be the one I knew. It doesn’t need to be fancy, or elaborate. It doesn’t even need to be a place. He feels like home, where I can rest.”

But Rho wasn’t there anymore, your bird was now on your shoulder, trying to move you forward. “Well, you can’t do that if you just stay there! MOVE!”

You looked up and the footsteps were gone, in front of you was Ruggie with Rho on his shoulder. You hiccupped, be it from crying, the emotions, or the shock that he was right there, within reach. “Did you hear all of that?”

Ruggie nodded, “Yeah, yeah I did.”

Rho and your messenger took flight, performing the soul match dance before Rho landed on your shoulder, and your bird landed on Ruggie’s. And they sang the honeyguide call, indicating that there was something sweet ahead.

“Come on,” he took you to an empty classroom, away from prying eyes. “Here, breathe with me. In; one, two, three.” You breathed in as he instructed. “Hold; one, two, three.” You held. “And out; one, two, three.” And you breathed out. “Better?” He caressed the knuckles of your hand gently.

You nodded. “Ruggie, I’m sor-”

He stopped you, smiling. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. What matters most is that we found each other… That we chose each other.”

Fin

Author's Note; I literally cried writing this (I was emotional at the time). Ruggie's story has been in my brain since I put his name on the list for this AU. It has haunted me for weeks. Have had the honeyguide song stuck in my head for years ever since I first heard it on Wild Kratts of all things. My favourite one I've written as of yet; up there with Jade's.

Tag; @leonistic

Link to Masterlist

[rae-blogging]

CROSSING LINES: Prologue

pairing : park jongseong x fem! reader, park sunghoon x fem! reader

genre : angst, fluff and smut

word count : 700 (for the prologue)

format : series (not in lowercase)

synopsis : jay and y/n are content in their happy relationships with minjeong and sunghoon, blissfully ignorant of each other's presence when an accident turns their lives upside down. was anything ever the way it had seemed?

contains : themes of death, infidelity, heartbreak, unhealthy coping mechanisms, sexual harassment in upcoming chapters, jay being a complete jerk who def has anger issues, y/n being extremely delusional and naive

a/n : it has been ages since i've really sat down and written, but i had wanted to write this for a while now so here it is. this is based off a show called 'bepannah' which despite its flaws i was absolutely in love with, jay and y/n's characters are heavily inspired by those of aditya and zoya so if ridiculous anger issues or seeing jay be petty and horribly mean is not something you'd like to witness, i'm sorry.

Park Jongseong had only ever been sure of two things in life:

Flying 

Kim Minjeong

And he couldn't ever come to a conclusion about the order. It didn't matter, though, because the only person he needed to understand that was always by his side, his best friend, his girlfriend, Minjeong. With her, Jongseong could be Jay; he could be childish, immature, and whiny. He could be flawed. He could be more than the arrogant heir of Park Industries.

Jay didn't honestly remember when he fell for Minjeong; all he knows is one day she was singing along to Harry Styles in his car, and the next, they were tangled on the back seat, her voice whispering a confession he could only smile in response to. For Jay, the transition was easy, and their relationship was effortless because, to him, despite everything, Minjeong was his best friend above all; she knew him inside out, and he, her. Nothing could ever change how he felt about her and how he felt with her.

Why then was he standing, trembling on this unassuming street of Seoul, with his darkened eyes fixated on the dead body of his girlfriend and a stranger right now? Their hands intertwined. Rigor Mortis, the doctor whispered, not even bothering to glance up at Jay before he turns to the team of detectives at the scene.

Jay could barely feel the glass shards from a stray bottle crackle under his feet as his body unwillingly staggered back, only then realizing there was someone behind him. His body turning around, and he blinked at the hazy silhouette he saw on the ground, his vision blurred by the thick sheen of tears covering his eyes that he didn't even register were there.

His mind still trying to make sense of the situation when his eyes meet your reddened ones, his ears suddenly becoming aware of the sound of loud sobs. Your frame kneeled upon the muddy ground whimpering while one of the detectives tries to console you and get you back up. Jay can catch a few words from the conversation, his mind too muddled to pay attention when you try to push past the cop towards the bloodied bodies.

“It's my fiancé! You don't understand! Sunghoon!” You cry, and Jay wonders for a second if he should be screaming too. His body unable to react or respond to the sight, his eyes blankly falling at the ground where his girlfriend now lays dead. Her face somehow free of any major scarring; she looks just fine, and he almost calls out to her like he can hear you do for the man in the background. His eyes once again darting towards the intertwined hands of Minjeong and Sunghoon as he stares lifelessly. She wasn't wearing her ring.

He can faintly hear the sound of a few detectives whispering, his brain barely able to piece certain words together, but he could guess their words as he stared at your frantic self overwrought with emotions that Jay hadn't even acknowledged yet. He saw how you vehemently shook your head to something one of the policemen said and your tearful but firm voice piercing his ears as he clenches his fist at your words.

“They were just sharing the cab!” You protest, trying to wipe your tears, but more keep falling. “She was- she scared, she must have been scared, she must have asked for a lift" You sniffle, trying to sound sure of your words as your eyes meet the sympathetic ones of the policeman in front of you, his gaze angering you as you gulp down tears, "Some women have to be like that, they- she must have been running away from home, so, so he held her hand; she must have- she must have asked him to. Sunghoon is kind, he's really nice like that, he-”

Anger finally flickers on Jay's face, his presence left unnoticed as he clenches his jaw at what you say, his voice cutting through your heart as you immediately jump back, not having even realized he was standing there.

“Your fiancé cheated on you.” His voice is sharp and almost hollow, and you can feel faint memories of earlier this morning resurface at his appearance. Memories that suddenly seem of a distant past. “Your nice, kind fiancé cheated on you with my girlfriend.” His cruel words of disdain making you open your mouth in immediate denial and anger, but he doesn't let you. “You are an ignorant id-” His words getting cut off by a wary detective, “We are taking the bodies to the hospital for an autopsy; if there's any immediate family, you can inform, please do it now.”

Your hands immediately fiddling before you ask hesitantly, “Did he- did he- did it happen immediately after the car crash?” The detective sighs, “We can't be sure yet, but the doctor seems to think so, yes. Both seem to have died at the spot right after the accident. We'll find out more once we take them to the hospital.”

Jay's lifeless gaze flits over the ambulance his girlfriend is in. His dead girlfriend. Just a few hours ago, he had been out buying a birthday gift for her. And a few hours before that, Minjeong had woken him up after opening all the blinds and teasing him when he protested.

“Don't be a baby," she grinned. "You know I have to leave for Busan for the art exhibition soon. Now get up!"

Jaw clenched, hands balled up into fists as Jay realized how easily she had lied to him. Was any of it ever true?

“You can't think the worst of everything," your voice shakes Jay back to reality, your soft eyes still brimming with tears as you try to console an angry Jay. “I'm sure there's an explanation. Sunghoon would never cheat on me, neither would- would your girlfriend if she loved you. You don't have to take everything as you see it. That's foolish."

Your voice magnetic and firm enough to almost make Jay believe your words, but he could hear the slight waver in your voice, the uncertainty in your lilt, how it sounded more like you were convincing yourself than him.

“You are a fool to force yourself to believe any of that.” Jay's words are flat. “You and I were both cheated on, and right now, I don't know if I am infuriated or devastated, but it doesn't matter because you are neither. You are just a fool whose fiancé probably cheated on her because she was too delusional to live in the real world. Anyone would cheat if they had to deal with someone like you.” Jay's words seem to prick your soul. Your heart wrenching as he walks off, his hand grabbing his phone as he walks out of earshot, and you are left to stand on the once barren road, the quiet buzz of policemen and ambulance not enough to pierce through your thoughts as the words of the stranger seem to reverberate in your head.

Anyone would cheat if they had to deal with someone like you