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doobea · 8 months

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KISS ME THRU THE PHONE - ISAGI YOICHI

synopsis: in which Isagi texts the wrong number and things kinda go downhill.

TWELVE - A melody stuck in my head. -> MASTERLIST contents: fem!reader, college au, fake dating, strangers to lovers, he fell first but you fell harder, generally sfw, different povs, isagi is putting in WORK, and we love his supportive friend group, its very 2010s vibes in terms of romance and i honestly love it word count: 1.8K a/n: woo first written portion out of like two? smau texts towards the end hehe but overall this is super tooth-rotting fluff

It's been maybe 30 minutes tops. But Chigiri convinces you that it's been well over an hour. The time frames that you guys throw out are strikingly different because there's no way that you see yourself spending over an hour deciding which color to buy for a dress that may or may not be out of your tax bracket.

Rin looks up from his phone when his name gets called out. He's sitting in the designated 'man cave' area of the women's department store, which is just two sofas surrounded by large photo frames of stereotypical shirtless men in their boxers. Super manly and definitely not catered toward single mothers.

"Have you guys decided on something?" He quirks a brow.

"No," You miss the frown on Rin's face as you shove the same two dresses in front of him again. "Hyoma says it's been over an hour but that's impossible!"

"It has been." Chirigi purses his lips and tries his best to hold back any signs of annoyance because, at the end of the day, he was the one who was adamant about you going to the mall in the first place. Going to the mall specifically to buy an outfit for your fake confession that's going to happen in front of the entire football team later this week.

"It hasn't, Hyo." Your tone is certain.

Rin clears his throat and shuts his phone off. "Actually, it has. You've been showing us the same two dresses for this entire outing."

Your cheeks heat from embarrassment and you clutch the dresses to your chest. "Even if an hour has passed, it's still a hard decision." Or are you just making it hard on yourself? You're not really sure.

Chirigi sighs before resting a hand on your shoulder. "Never knew you would be down this bad for a crush."

There's no protest from you, just awkward fidgeting and debating if it was even a good idea to bring your friends with you in the first place. Before you can come up with an answer, your phone rings with a familiar blue heart flashing across the screen.

You don't know the face you're making right now, but judging from the smirk Chirigi and Rin throw at you, you know it's probably not a 'cool, stoic, totally not blushing' look. Finally, you put the white dress back on the clothing rack and briskly walk to the other side of the store and away from your nosy best friends. Blue looks better on you anyway.

"Hey!" You try to attempt to be super casual.

"Hey?" Isagi replies back, sounding more confused than anything.

There's an awkward pause before Isagi continues. "Aah, you don't have to go out of your way to dress up, you know that right?"

And there it is. You want to crawl into the nearest trash can and disappear for the rest of the day.

Isagi stares intensely at his phone and shifts through his curated playlist. He's been playing every song out loud in the living room for the past few minutes, seemingly unaware of his own roommate trying to study a few feet away.

Isagi hums and closes his eyes as he listens to the current song playing, trying to envision if it was 'right' for the planned moment, before skipping it entirely with a heavy sigh.

"That's not it either."

He does this process again with another generic romance song from the early 2000s. The beat is catchy, he's not sure if he likes the vocals, and the lyrics are a little bit suggestive. Maybe this song is too much, he decides. And skips to the next one.

Rinse and repeat.

Again, Isagi fails to notice a very tired-out Reo by the kitchen table with his own set of headphones on, tapping away at his laptop with at least three cups of coffee at his side and wearing a very grim expression. Suddenly, Isagi feels something small but hard hit the back of his head.

"Hey, what the hell—"

"Take that shit elsewhere, some people have exams coming up!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Isagi rushes up to his feet and takes his belongings, flashing his roommate a genuine apologetic smile. "I'll let you do your thing."

"Good," Reo's voice hardens immediately, and readjusts his focus back on his screen again. This only lasts approximately ten seconds because Isagi pops by his side with his playlist in Reo's face. "Oh my god what—"

"This song?" Isagi plays a quick sample before switching over. "Or this song?"

"Just fucking sing to her at this point."

"What? That's an awful idea, Reo."

Rin has lost count of just how many times you've paced back and forth in your bedroom. He thinks it's 25. Chirigi is lying down on your mattress with one of your romance books in his hands and almost yawning at this point because of course you can't decide on what shoes to wear with your blue dress.

Rin adjusts his position as he sits by your vanity and starts playing with some of your self-care items. He thinks he's touching a beauty blender or whatever they're called. It's squishy.

"Not to sound dramatic or anything," Chigiri begins as he flips a page over. "But at this rate, we might miss the football game."

You groan and look over your shoulder. "You do sound dramatic."

Not dramatic at all, Rin wants to say.

Isagi had sent out a text to a shared group chat earlier in the week about the starting time for the football match — 5:30pm is when warm-ups start and then 6:00pm is when the match begins. He then texted both Rin and Chigiri that he'll whip out his 'master plan' around 7:45pm near the locker rooms.

The digital clock on your desk reads 5:45 and you're still fidgeting around. Chigiri is slightly annoyed but won't outwardly say it to your face. Rin thinks it's cute seeing you fluster over a guy. And he feels at ease knowing that Isagi is willing to go out of his way with all these elaborate plans just to make sure you feel safe and comfortable.

"Mhm, I hope a wedding happens," Rin mumbles. It doesn't catch your or Chigiri's attention because when he looks up from your vanity, Chigiri throws a pair of white sandal platforms in your arms.

"Please, for the love of god, let's leave now."

"Fine! I was just gonna pick them out too!"

The football match ends with a grand finale goal scored by none other than Isagi Yoichi. Even if he didn't make the goal, the team would've won regardless since the score was up by three additional points. The scene looks straight out of one of those cheesy sports movies where the whole team runs onto the field and tackles the main character, screaming and cheering a bunch of incoherent sounds to celebrate their victory. Add some Gatorade, cheerleaders doing their chants, a little bit of crowd surfing, and end scene.

Isagi looks happy, maybe even fucking ecstatic, despite being covered in sweat and you're positive that he feels on top of the world when he searches the crowd and locks his gaze onto yours.

You shrink into the bleachers and cover your warm cheeks with your hands. You kinda hate how he has this effect on you. "He's looking at me!"

"No surprise there," Rin chews mindlessly on an overpriced pretzel that he got from a vendor earlier. "Have any idea how he's gonna do it?"

"Oh my god, no! Should I be worried? What if I look dumb? Does my hair look okay? How about—"

"You look great," Chirigi reassures with a gentle pat on your head. "Get ready, it looks like he's getting his things from the locker room now."

You still have no idea what dumb song he decided on. Or if he actually went out and brought you flowers and some dumb pieces of chocolate. Or, even worse, he scraped the original plan and hopped back onto Reddit of all places for more unwarranted advice. Regardless of what Isagi decides, he's going to leave you a blushing mess by the end of the night.

You snap out of your thoughts when your best friends nudge you out of your seat.

"Let's meet up with them, I think I see him carrying the speaker." Rin peers into the distance.

Chigiri stands up and almost laughs. "Looks like he has some backup dancers too."

"He has what now?"

The team finishes their group huddle for the night by the locker rooms. The conversation consists of unwarranted butt slaps from his teammates and a whole lot of 'do that again next season'.

Isagi overhears his captain bragging about how many fangirls were cheering for him from the stands tonight and looks away to roll his eyes. He feels a combination of heated insults forming on his tongue but that disappears when he feels Bachira's crushing weight on his back.

"Are we ready yet?" His friend chirps.

"Ready is an understatement," Isagi flashes a grin before pulling out his phone and boombox from his gym bag. "Let's show Aiku what we're made out of."

"Hey," Isagi looks over his shoulders to see Reo and Nagi carrying the gifts he had brought earlier, a bouquet of light blue roses, a small teddy bear charm, and a box of chocolates. "Don't fuck this up."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He grins carelessly, but there's a weight to his words.

They get into formation when Isagi sees you walking over. He couldn't make out your outfit during the game and frankly thought you weren't going to dress up at all, but when you're within an arm's length away, he feels his breath getting stuck in his throat. You look absolutely stunning in his eyes, and he feels slightly bad for putting you on the spot and having everyone see you in this way. He selfishly wishes that it's a private confession.

Isagi clears his throat before pressing 'play'. As soon as he hears the first note, he starts his speech. Bachira, Reo, and Nagi shuffle awkwardly back and forth, waving their phones around with the flashlight on as the whole football team, and you included, gawks in silence.

"Shawty's like a melody in my head That I can't keep out, got me singin' like Na na na na everyday"

"Honestly, it feels surreal to be doing this right now since this all started from a wrong number a few weeks ago." Isagi finds himself struggling to find his words when he meets your eyes but he manages to push through and stick with his script. "I look forward to sending you good morning texts every day and I find myself smiling more whenever I'm with you. You're everything that I find myself wanting and I would love it if you came to formal with me."

TAGLIST

@fabitheraven, @froggie-zusya23, @rroxii,@anurst,@silly-ez, @userwithlotsoftime, @tiniewife, @zeld6lvr, @macspov, @plopify, @urluvvdommm, @theweirdfloatything, @shironagi, @avogigi, @limerence-lu, @exatse, @cloooudmilk, @keijiqahara, @kakie @xacgrx @reiners-milkbiddies @arxliana @lazyogurt @kaitfae @yuxame @keiitsune @ch3nyan @ll-seishu @qwertyblo @mellozhi @y-sabell-a @izumi-astra-123 @blissblossom @slay0368 @hanniejji @mimikage @yoichiislovie @stwberri @wooasecret @faeroow @yuzurins @celestair @ascybous @satoruskitchenrag @laavatron @lupinandout @yoisami @softfor-svtptg @nymphsdomain @astro-pioneer @kunikame

a/n: hehe the song he plays is "Replay by Iyaz". the songs he was debating over are all listed in his playlist. could u imagine if isagi plays "hey daddy (daddy's home)" while confessing??? poor y/n would die!! anyways i think there is one more chapter left hehe sorry for the late update - life's been hectic atm!

#blue lock #doobea writing #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #blue lock headcanons #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #blue lock smau #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #kiss me thru the phone - isagi yoichi

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stupidlovergirl · 1 year

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Just Right <3

Soft moments with just you two

Feat. Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

Dateables Vers

not edited

Early in the morning, your eyes flutter open. It seems to be early, as when you wake you still see Lucifer in bed. He looks perfect, relaxed and free of stress. These rare, memorable moments are all seared into your brain. You can’t help but smile, knowing you look like a love struck fool. Lucifer, your darling Lucifer. Your eyes drink in his form. His long lashes, hiding away his ruby eyes. So long they kiss his cheeks. His hair curtains over parts of his face, silky and rich in color. His soft lips, a soft pink that tempted you to kiss him. A vague sleepy thought of him being your sleeping beauty enters your mind, making you smile even wider. Placing your hands around his waist, you bring him closer and bury your face into his neck, falling back into sleep’s soft embrace.

Mammon sometimes feels the weight of everything crash down on him. In these times, he likes to hide. You knew it was one of those days when you felt him pulling you to your room as soon as you got back from RAD. You know he likes the scent of you, so he likes to hide away in there. You make sure to text the others that you were “studying” on your own so they wouldn’t disturb you two. You make sure to be soft with him. Turning on a movie you two have seen millions of times on low for white noise, a snuggle together on your bed. He likes to be in your arms, and especially likes when you play with his hair and kiss the top of his head. Maybe rub his back while you're at it. You almost always fall asleep like this.

You’ll never catch Leviathan lacking and engaging in such “cringe normie-based couple behavior”, as he calls it. That is until one day, he cracked. The little freak(affectionate) texts you how much he misses you while you're at school, and to immediately come to his room after you get back. You can’t help but smile. You tell him you will, and honestly debate skipping right then and there (You then remember what happened to Mammon when he skipped.) When you do get to him, he looks so happy. He pats his lap excitedly for you to sit on. Do not fight him! He can handle it!! Scrawny fish is a lot stronger than he looks, and has proven it to you multiple times. Once you have taken your seat he likes nuzzling with you. Whispering how much he loves you (through intense stutters cause mans nervousness is catching up, it's a battle between neediness and insecurities bro). His hair is tickly, so the two of you end up exchanging giggles at this time also. After a little bit of this, he goes back to his games. He likes to play his gatcha/RNG based games during this time, as he wholeheartedly believes that you give him a luck boost.

Satan is not always a soft lover, but you knew that when you decided to date him. He tries his best. The softest moments between the two of you was, unsurprisingly, at a cat cafe. He had stayed up late into the night, engrossed in a novel. He had been sleepy all day, but wanted to see the cute cats with you. So off you two went. You guys claimed a cute spot in the corner and started petting the cats and feeding them treats. Needing to use the restroom, you told Satan you would be back, and went off to do your business. When you came back, you weren’t expecting to see Satan asleep, with cats snuggled up all around him. You took so many pictures, and sent them to every device for safe keeping. After you secure the cutest photos of you boyfriend (and set one as your home screen), you decide to sit back down and stay for a few more minutes before you two go home. The cats never left your guys’ side for the rest of Satan’s nap

Asmodeus loves date night. You two get dressed up and go to whatever you two have planned. Sometimes it’s simple nights in, other times it’s to big parties, it can all be in the cards when it comes to Asmo. He had planned a simple night in, doing each other's makeup and playing dress up, and at the same time cleaning out his closet to donate to charity. When he asked you with puppy dog eyes to do your eyeliner, how were you to refuse him? So, that is how you ended up on the bed with Asmo on top, for the “best angle and lighting”. He was smiling so big, telling you how pretty you looked, as you fired back that he was the pretty one. Soon enough, the eyeliner was discarded as the two of you argued, with kisses and giggles laced between your guys compliments. You ended up covered in the pink lipstick Asmo was wearing. It wasn’t until the next day did you see the picture Asmo snuck of you smiling so brightly with his lipstick all over you. On his Devilgram, with the caption “Pretty in my shade of pink”.

Beel loves to be helpful to you, so when you asked him to help you in the kitchen he immediately accepted. You just were making a simple meal for the two of you, a simple stock soup you could eat with the bread bowls you had bought (and hid). Turning on the radio, the two of you set to work. Chopping vegetables, giggling at Beel’s attempts to eat the ingredients (and kitchen utensils). After you had put everything in, you left it to cook. A simple love song came on, and you smiled brightly as you dragged Beel closer to you. He looked confused, but your smile made him smile too. It wasn’t until you put one of his hands on his waist and started to sway did he realize you wanted to dance. The two of you spun and laughed as you clumsily moved around the kitchen. The two of you kept going even after the song ended, dancing to your own song. It felt like hours before you stopped, laughing and smiling so hard that your stomachs hurt.

Belphie was in the attic when you came to find him. You had finally finished your daily tasks and came to snuggle with your boyfriend. You smiled when you saw him in the mountain of pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals he has gotten. You note the pillow you remember Lucifer said got stolen from his room in the pile. Hearing a soft snore from the center, you laugh quietly. You make your way over and crawl into the nest. Belphie wastes no time wrapping his arms around you, huffing and saying how you “took to long” and should “just tell them to do it themselves”. You just kiss his cheek and tell him your tired. Taking no time, you both quite down and fall asleep. It wasn’t until Beel came to wake you a few minutes before dinner did you open your eyes. Belphie, as stubborn as ever, just growled. You sat up, but Belphie made no moves to detach himself. You laid there and let him rest on your lap, brushing through his hair. Until you noticed a mark on your arm. Multiple marks, actually. They seemed to be… constellations?

“Belphegor, did you draw on me?”

“Mm, yeah, you look so pretty with the stars on your skin. My own night sky”

You’ll let him get away with it this time, you guess. (You let him get away with it every time. He smiles so fondly when he traces over his handy work, sometimes even kissing them so sweetly)

#lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #mammon x reader #mammon x you #leviathan x reader #leviathan x you #satan x reader #satan x you #asmodeus x reader #asmodeus x you #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub x you #belphegor x reader #belphegor x you #obswd x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x you #bunny's.game.collection

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the-music-maniac · 4 months

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Zoro has rapidly become my favourite character in One Piece and so I felt the need to write this after seeing one too many people misinterpret him as this alpha male type of dude purely because he's muscular and likes fighting. Don't do my boi like that, I actually think Zoro is a very good example of non toxic masculinity, and I will fight people over it. I've seen someone call Zoro a red flag. I will find you.

I've seen this happen quite often when it comes to characters with certain body types and defining traits, especially in shows with large followings like one piece, where people just tend to equate muscular + likes to fight + likes to drink to a certain archetype of personality without looking at the nuance? In reality, Zoro is a very likeable guy in my opinion (once you get over how terrifying he can be as an opponent).

Disclaimer: I haven't finished the entire show so feel free to write any rebuttals if you think I got anything wrong! Fandom debates can be quite fun.

I also mention Sanzo/Zosan very briefly so feel free to skip over that part if you're not into that ship.

The biggest thing I think people tend to forget is that Zoro is kind. And this one I don't understand how anyone can forget, because it's like an integral part of his character. Sure, his goal of becoming the greatest swordsman is not a path that's without bloodshed. He's not kind in an all encompassing, indiscriminate way, he's kind in a practical way, especially in the world he lives in with the type of life he leads. He doesn't have qualms about killing when necessary. But the motivation behind those actions are never cruel. He wants to be the greatest swordsman, but he's not amassing that skill because he wants power. He's doing it for love of that weapons style and for the childhood dream both Kuina and him had. Does he like fighting? Yeah, but I'm pretty certain it's purely for the competition of skill. And Zoro shows his kindness with how willing he is to help those who need it, in that he usually doesn't use his strength to take what he wants/hurt others but to protect. Even when he was a bounty hunter and earned his moniker of Demon of the East, he was just trying to survive. I'm not sure how people forget that he's a kind person when our initial introduction to Zoro was him agreeing to get tied to a post for a month without food or water to save a little girl and her mother. He's kind in the little ways as well, in that mundane everyday living type of manner, not just in the big, heroic "risk your life" type of way, which I think is important to acknowledge. He didn't have to tell that girl that her food was good. And Zoro is pretty damn good with children - we see that with Chopper, and we see that with that filler episode with Zoro babysitting and - I think there are some more examples but I can't recall them right now. That's a very big green flag in my opinion. The little gestures can matter as much as the big ones. As far as I'm concerned, those traits couldn't be further from the "alpha male" stereotype.

I've also seen people characterize Zoro as just a cool, quiet, man-of-few-words type of guy, and sure, I can see how he would give that impression if all you saw of him was random edits of when he gets serious but honestly, the man is pretty fucking sassy. He's also just - SUCH a 19 year old with all the antics he gets up to with the rest of the crew, and I'm aware he gets much more serious after the timeskip (I haven't gotten to that point yet in terms of watching but I don't care about spoilers so I know the reason behind it), but like. I don't think he lost his snark from some clips I've seen. Zoro is funny, and I think people ignore that too often for the cool guy type of characterization. Not that he isn't cool - Zoro has his moments but that's not all he is. The man gets lost running in a straight line???? He once almost got frozen in wax and decided his priority was to ensure he died in a cool pose. That type of willingness to be silly is not something you find in a stereotypical alpha male type of personality. Like, who are you kidding, he's lame af, unashamed of it, and it's fabulous.

Another thing, granted this is not a common opinion by any means, but on one instance I've seen someone act as if Zoro's some lady killer or some shit and I actually had to pause and stare at my screen in disbelief. Could I see women being attracted to Zoro? Yeah sure, I mean the one example I can think of right now is Hiyori (another example may or may not be me. But then again you knew that didn't you, considering this post is just one giant love letter to Zoro). But does Zoro purposely try to attract women? Uh no? I don't even think the man is straight. He's either aromantic/asexual (very ace of him to not give a shit about romance but leap up in two seconds upon hearing the word "sword") or just gay, cause he exhibits very little interest in romance, or very little indication that he finds women attractive. And I pinpointed attraction to women specifically just cause people tend to assume Zoro is heterosexual and have the audacity to get mad at you if you try to imply otherwise. Which to me is clearly heteronormativity speaking because where. Where is he straight, I don't see it. And sure is there a possibility he may be heterosexual and just unwilling to act on attraction because he has a different goal in life? Yeah sure, but you can't act like that's the only valid interpretation for him. But regardless, no matter what sexuality you headcanon him as, he's still very very far from "manly man with ladies swooning left and right into his muscular arms" type character. I mean if someone swooned into him I'm pretty sure he would catch them on principle without registering any romantic connotations whatsoever. (Note that these opinions do not stop me from being a Sanzo/Zosan shipper, but that's more because I find the concept entertaining. An argument could also be made that Zoro does pay the most attention to Sanji, even if it's to fight him). So yeah, another strike against the whole alpha male type of characterization. Zoro doesn't really give a shit about romance and even if he DID, I am convinced he still wouldn't treat a potential romantic partner as anything but an equal, doesn't matter if that s/o is a man, woman or non binary. And this segways into my next point.

Because Zoro has some very refreshing attitudes about gender, both his own and of other people. This doesn't just tie in with the sexuality/romantic partner thing, it ties into the willingness to be authentic/silly thing, and the "likes to compare skills through fighting" thing. I very much think that Zoro just doesn't really register gender roles much, or he does and he just doesn't care about it. And I'm aware this partially stems from a position of privilege he has as a guy - he doesn't need to care about gender roles and how people view him because he's a man. He wouldn't be short changed for anything if he doesn't notice. While the same luxury is not extended to individuals like Kuina and Tashigi, who were in a field of practice that looks down on them purely for being women. Having said that, Zoro literally just doesn't give a shit who he's dealing with, man, woman or any other gender. If you challenge him, he'll fight you. And the level of effort he gives that fight is usually dependent on ability and the situation. If you annoy him, he'll annoy you back. He has no qualms about snarking and yelling at Nami the same as he would with a male member of the crew. People in the past that have pointed out to him the difference in the way the rest of the world perceives men and women - like with Kuina and Tashigi for example - is met with confusion. And again, this is partially because Zoro has the privilege of not noticing, but honestly even if he did notice, I don't think his personal actions would change. And I find that refreshing. I love Sanji as a character, don't get me wrong, but his whole refuses to fight women schtick is something that annoys me (even if I do headcanon that it partially comes from a place of trauma). And moreover, Zoro gives me the impression of a person that doesn't give a shit if his own masculinity is "compromised", going by the stereotypical definition of the phrase. He does shit cause he feels like it, not cause it's the "manly" thing to do. Yeah, he happens to like drinking, working out - things that are considered traditionally masculine, but I get the sense that if he did have hobbies that were not traditionally masculine, he would just go ahead and do them regardless of what people think of him. His antics pre-timeskip wasn't exactly the epitome of manliness, it was silly and goofy and he has no qualms about it cause it was authentically him. And he wouldn't feel threatened if he were to do anything not in keeping with a "manly" image, even if he wouldn't do any of that of his own volition. Like the babysitting filler episode? The man was in a crop top that said "mama" on the front. I fully believe that if he lost a bet to Nami and had to wear a dress or some other traditionally feminine piece of clothing, or if for some convoluted reason Luffy ordered him to put on a disguise like that for some mission or whatever, Zoro wouldn't give a shit as long as it was comfortable and didn't obstruct his ability to fight. If someone made fun of him for it, he would probably bite back depending on how insulting the person is trying to be, cause not caring about wearing non masculine clothing doesn't mean he would be okay with someone looking down on him, but he wouldn't automatically equate the two to each other without that interference, and that association wouldn't be permanent. Would he choose to wear a dress on his own? Probably not. He does still have clothing preferences and they tend to be simple, practical and comfortable, and with certain clothing pieces, in keeping with his culture. Would he fly into an insecure rage about not being a girl? I don't think so. And that's so far in attitude from the whole alpha male thing that it's not even funny. The whole concept of an identity centered around being an alpha male reeks of insecurity, and Zoro is very secure in who he is as a person.

And this is also why I think Zoro would act differently in a romance than how "alpha males" would act, even if it's with a woman (I still don't think Zoro is straight btw, but just for conjecture). For one he respects people based on ability and if not that, determination and heart, so right off the bat he's not gonna treat his partner as lesser than him by virtue of being a woman. And I've noticed that a lot of heterosexual couples (not all, mind you, but a lot) seem to care more about dating a gender role than dating an actual person. By that, I mean individuals who pride themselves on being a model of masculinity however they define it - usually look for a partner to compliment them in that regard. I find this counterproductive, because your partner is not meant to be a tool/accessory to maintain your image, and also because being the perfect man or woman is too narrow of a definition, and it doesn't exactly leave you a lot of room to live comfortably as a human - with all your fallible moments that don't fit comfortably in little boxes. It's impractical and illogical. If you value maintaining the status quo and assigning responsibilities and roles based on arbitrary rules assigned by society instead of ability, if you care about that more than you care about helping your partner and maintaining a functional life, I don't think y'all are gonna last long. That's just my two cents. But for the reasons listed before, Zoro barely even registers gender roles, and he's a pretty "get shit done" type of person. He's not gonna give a shit. He'll do what he's able to do for the relationship, and he wouldn't feel insecure when his partner does the same, even if it doesn't fit into traditional roles. And considering Zoro's love of sparring/fighting I don't think he would get with a partner that isn't able to give him a run for his money anyways. Another thing that sets him apart from the alpha male stereotype, those guys are terrified of anyone challenging them for their position of "authority", however dubious that position is (and however stupid it is to care about notions of dominance for a relationship. Have y'all seen those interview videos with guys who actually believe that? "I can't date a girl that bench presses more than me cause that means she becomes the dominant figure in the relationship" excuse me what.)

This post is getting overly long so I'm going to end it there. Thanks for reading!

#zoro my beloved #roronoa zoro #one piece #sanzo #zosan #zoro x sanji #but only brief mentions of it #mischaracterization and my annoyance with it

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mirandasidefics · 1 month

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But Home is Nowhere-Part 6

Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel x Plus Size Reader, Ruhn Danaan x Plus Size Reader

Part 6 Summary: Nearly half a year has gone by and Reader is no closer to finding a way home. Reader has set her sights on finally going outside of the Night Court to find answer on how to return home. However, Rhysand is a prick.

Author's note: Screw it, I'm adding a ship to this damn thing. The more I write, the more I realize that Ruhn and Reader have a thing I can't ignore (#writerproblems). Just know in advanced that they will NOT be endgame. I was debating on not splitting this part up, but I figured that this already had a lot going on so it was probably best. Its still at 5.6K words. That and I really didn't want to delay posting an update any longer. This does have some time skips, but nothing too crazy.

Warnings: Slight spoilers for CC3 (HOFAS).

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

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Lucien entered the town house and immediately headed for the stairs that lead to the upper floor. He had winnowed clear across Prythian from the Spring Court upon receiving Rhysand’s note informing him that (Y/N) had an accident. Mother spare him, but despite their argument he still worried over the woman’s safety while he was away. He wanted to stay mad, he truly did however…He didn’t trust the males in this court enough to give her the space she would need to feel safe. He had debated on asking Feyre to allow (Y/N) to accompany him to the mortal lands. There she would at least have been safe with Jurian and Vassa. More so, she would have been safe with him. She likely would have been more comfortable with her own kind too. Then again, Jurian and Vassa weren’t exactly typical humans. He also didn’t know the individuals from Midgard well enough to trust them. The one male that held an unsettling resemblance to Rhysand, the way he had looked at her was like he’d seen a ghost. Lucien didn’t quite know what to make of that. No, his ability to trust anyone with caring for her was thin and needed to be earned. The fact that something happened and she’s been injured while he was away was proof enough. Trust was a precious commodity in his life.

When Bryce had first arrived, Lucien had been kept in the dark. He only became aware of everything after Rhysand had asked him for assistance in creating and securing the portal that they established near the River House. The idea was to have a secure location to monitor anyone else coming and going. Especially after they had all agreed to assist in the rescue of her mate and brother. It had honestly surprised the male that the High Lord had trusted him enough with this task. But after seeing Bryce for himself, her crimson hair almost a near match for his own. Well, he could certainly hazard a guess as to why his blood may be useful. Especially, if that message from one of the High Queen’s daughters was accurate. It was likely that inhabitants of the areas that had become the Autumn Court traveled to the new world as well all those millennia ago. As an emissary of the Night Court it wouldn’t surprise Lucien if Rhysand ultimately asked he go on a diplomatic mission to Midgard at some point.

Lucien took the stairs two steps at a time. The woman’s soft vanilla scent filled his senses as he approached the room she occupied. The one that had been his when he first arrived to the Night Court. The fire in his veins calmed as her scent washed over him. He hadn’t even realized that the magic was poised to be unleashed, tensed from his worry. He didn’t bother to knock on the door before he opened it. The human woman sat on the bed, her back against the dark walnut headboard, a leg propped up on a pillow. He barely registered the dangerously short emerald green silk nightdress she wore. His eyes immediately traveled down the bare expanse of her exposed leg to the white linin wrappings around her ankle. Relief fully washed over him. He didn’t know why he had expected something worse, but he was glad that it wasn’t. His golden eye whirred as it focused on her ankle and he took a few steps into the room. He sat on the end of the bed, his hands gingerly lifted her leg and placed it on his lap so he could examine it for himself. The wrapping was tight and kept her foot in as much of a neutral position as it possible to allow the healing magic to run its course. Once satisfied that it had been treated properly, his gaze turned towards hers. Surprise filled her expression. It suddenly dawned on him that he had rushed into her room without so much as a word. On top of that he had immediately started to inspect her condition as if she were…he stopped that line of thinking immediately. ‘She is my friend. I am allowed to be worried about my friends.’ Lucien stared as her expression went from surprise to confusion to relief.

“You came back,” Her low and warm voice was soft as the almost question passed her lips. Suddenly she tossed the book that had been in her lap to the side. She swung her legs underneath her plump frame before she launched herself towards Lucien. “You came back.” He barely had time to brace himself when she slammed against him, her arms wrapping around his torso. His own arms followed suit, holding her close. He had missed her warmth.

“Of course, I came back. I didn’t plan to stay away long.” He chuckled.

“I’m so sorry Lu,” She whispered against his neck, her breath caused the skin on the back of his neck to pleasantly rise. “I-I should have let you explain yourself.”

“It’s alright sweet girl,” He rubbed his palm along her back. “You had every right to be upset. I apologize as well. I should have talked to you about what to share with the others before doing so.”

“Still, I didn’t need to say those things,” She pulled back slightly to look at him. “I know that you were trying to help. I know that you care. You have no obligation to me, but you are an amazing friend. I’m really sorry for the way that I treated you when I was upset.”

“I appreciate that,” His throat tightened ever so slightly. He continued to hold her, the two of them sharing a comfortable silence.

“Do you have to go back soon?” She asked.

“No,” He smiled down at her, (e/c) orbs alight with that fire he was growing too accustomed to. “I’m yours until you’re healed.”

“Oh? Aren’t I special then,” Her returning grin caused the flames to dance. He couldn’t help but laugh. She pulled away and carefully maneuvered herself back towards the headboard of the bed. She reached for the book and patted against the space next to her.

“Want me to read aloud?” She shook the book in her hand. Lucien stood and removed his shoes before crawling up the bed to join her.

“Is this one of Nesta’s?” He asked, wrapping an arm over her shoulders and plucking the novel from her hands.

“Yes, but it’s one of the…tamer romances.”

“No smut?” He laughed.

“I wouldn’t have offered to read aloud if there was,” She settled into his side, her injured leg back on its pillow. He opened the book and she directed him to the page where she left off. After she quickly summarized the preceding events in the book, Lucien began to read.

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Your fingers traced along the endless row of leather encased book spines. Every now and then the smooth texture was interrupted by the cold bite of metal hinges or raised and pressed lettering. The gold and bronze titles, those that were still visible anyway, blurred as your eyes scanned over them. Pausing your search, you tilted your head back into an upright position and rubbed your eyes trying to bring them back into focus. In the opposite row, Nesta was re-shelving one of the many tombs that Gwyn had picked out. The Priestess currently sat at a table between the rows, scanning over another book. Elegantly long fingers gloved in white gently turned the oversized pages. Every afternoon for the past six months the pair had assisted you with searching the large library underneath the House of Wind for any information that could result in your ticket back home.

It was difficult to believe that you had been in the Night Court for so long already, damn near 8 months. Each morning you opened your eyes you were greeted with the sight of the pale walls of your room in the town house. The familiar sight of pictures of friends and family that covered your bedroom back home where nowhere to been seen. Their absence reminding you of the life you would lose if you failed to return. The scrapes of your hope for returning home were slowly slipping away. Yet you remained determined to find some way back. If not for yourself, then for those that loved and relied on you.

With the hundreds of thousands of books within the library there had to be at least one that could shed some light onto your situation. There had to be some documentation, anything at all, regarding the Fae that had gone missing from the continent all those millennia ago. You had come to the conclusion that this group must have traveled to your world. Or at least traveled somewhere that could then lead you to your world. There was no other reasonable explanation for how you could have found yourself in this one. Especially if Ruhn’s suggestion of your distant relation to them was true. If you had to be honest, you weren’t sure you would ever believe that, not without some type of blood test anyway. A groan from Gwyn brought you out of your rumination.

“That’s it!” She declared while slamming the ancient text shut. “We’ve looked at nearly every book in this damned place and found nothing.” You stared at the stack of books laid out next to the female.

“If we had a better idea of what we were even looking for…” Nesta’s voice trailed off. Sun lit dust particles danced around her finger tips as they strummed against the table. You sucked in a breath.

“At this rate anything regarding the history of Prythian could be useful,” You couldn’t afford to lose hope. “ So, what options do we have?” Nesta returned to the table and exchanged a look with her friend.

“There are other libraries,” Gwyn stated simply. “But…the High Lord will need to make the request for an emissary to visit.” Nesta scoffed.

“Which he won’t do without some serious convincing,” She crossed her arms and looked up at the ceiling.

“Then I’ll convince him,” You had to remain hopeful, “He’ll have to agree that looking outside the Night Court is necessary if we’ve exhausted the resources here. Where are these libraries?”

“Each of the Courts have their own set of libraries,” Gwyn offered. “If you are to start looking into the general history of Prythian then the Day Court would be the best starting point. There are near 1000 in that Court alone, and…” She trailed off at the look Nesta gave the two of you.

“No.” Her voice was stern.

“What do you mean, ‘No’?” You challenged. “Rhysand has to understand-”

“It’s not just him. It’s highly unlikely that the other High Lords would allow free reign of their resources to anyone from the Night Court,” She explained, “Not without giving them a reason as to why it would be of benefit to them. Rhys still believes that knowledge of your and Bryce’s existence does not benefit anyone and would only place the Night Court at risk.” You rolled your eyes.

“Of course, how could I forget?” It was no secret that Rhysand still didn’t trust you. It didn’t matter that everyone else in his precious inner circle could see that you were of no threat. You and Feyre surly thought that he would have come around when Amren surprisingly gave her seal of approval. It took two months before the petite female had even been willing to give you the time of day. Once she realized that you truly were stuck here she insisted on her own set of tests for magical abilities or reactions. When you couldn’t produce any of the results she suspected you should have been capable of, if you were indeed a spy or other type of threat, she finally backed off. Mor had liked you almost instantly after watching your interactions with Nyx.

“I admit that I can see how the knowledge of me being from another world is the equivalent of opening Pandora’s box,” You laughed. “But the other courts don’t have to know that little tidbit, right? We can just come up with some other reasoning. You know, some bullshit about building relations with mortals. I’m certain that Rhys and Lucien could spin something like that.”

“There’s really only one way to find out,” Gwyn mused. Nesta let out a long breath.

***

“Absolutely not,” Rhysand didn’t even bother to look up at either you or Nesta.

“Why not?” You asked incredulously. “We’ve exhausted the resources available in the Night Court. You won’t let me go to the Prison or the tunnels with Bryce to see what I might be able to decipher from the images. So, if you’re going to continue to insist that I find a way home, I need access to more information. Information that is now beyond your borders.”

“Then consider yourself relieved of the task,” His eyes still didn’t look up from the parchment he was scribbling on.

“What?”

“You’re done with research,” He finally looked up, eyes cold. “You can go now.” Rhysand gestured towards the office door and resumed his scribbling. You blinked several times trying to process what just happened. To say you were baffled by his decision to just have you give up was an understatement. It made no sense. He had insisted for months that you do everything in your power to find a way home. He made you dedicate hours every afternoon while Nyx slept to the task. He didn’t want you here. He didn’t trust you. Was it really so hard for him to let go of that fucking need to control you that he’d rather you remain stranded on this planet than let you leave the court to find a way home? Clearly it was.

“No.” You felt Nesta tense at your side. The male sitting before you glanced up through thick lashes. An eyebrow raised as he paused his work yet again. You didn’t care that he could easily over power you. Easily kill you with a mere thought. You weren’t about to continue being this weak and timid thing. He may be used to the other females in his life buckling under the weight of that stare, but it would be a cold day in Hell before you gave him that satisfaction. You wanted to go home just as much as he wanted you gone.

“I don’t see a reason as to why I can’t continue searching for a way home,” You took a steadying breath. “The High Lord of the Day Court doesn’t need to know who I really am or where I’m from. He doesn’t need to know the true purpose of what I am looking for. Honestly at this point I might get more insight into travel between worlds by looking into the history of this one.” The High Lord remained silent, so you took that as a cue to continue pleading your case.

“That’s the story we tell him. I’m merely looking into the history of the various courts to compile a comprehensive history of Prythian. If that hasn’t already been done that is. I can dress up like a Priestess, or Lucien can glamor me so I don’t look human. And I know that he will go with me if I ask.”

“Helion would be able to see through any ruse, which is exactly why I will not grant you permission to leave,” The calmness with which this discussion had started was quickly fading. His arrogance and lack of confidence in you made your blood boil.

“You cannot keep me locked away in this city!” You squared your shoulders.

“Yes, I can!” Rhysand bellowed. “I will remind you that your ability to remain in Velaris is due to the love that my son has for you.”

“Believe me, I am perfectly aware of the fact that my freedom is an illusion,” You seethed. “And it isn’t right. What kind of example are you setting for your son? He will pick up on the way that you treat me, as well as the other females in his life, and that will be his template for how he will treat them in turn. Tell me, do you want him to grow and be known as male that has genuine respect for females? To be known for treating them well beyond just common decency? Do you want him to build this court up as a safe place for women to live the lives they choose? To carry on a legacy of Velaris being a city that all can aspire to? Or do you want him to continue this farce of what you spout as being a progressive court but continue to belittle, undermine, and covertly fuel misogyny?” You felt a power ripple through the air. The edges of the High Lord’s figure darkened. You definitely hit a nerve and had to fight back the triumphant smirk.

“You despise me, so why are you so fucking hell bent on keeping me here? Wouldn’t you and everyone else be happier if I was gone?” The power that had been growing sputtered. The silence that replaced it filled the office, setting your already frayed nerves on edge. Nesta placed her hand in yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“I do not despise you (Y/N),” Rhysand let out a heavy sigh. “And given the fact you believed that to be true, I must apologize. Genuinely apologize.” You stood in front of the High Lord, not quite sure if what he had to say next would truly be as genuine as was merited. The male stood from his chair, walking around his desk to stand in front of you.

“While it is really no excuse, I have let my fear of the unknown dictate my interactions with you,” He explained. You bit back the sarcastic remark that threated that danced on your tongue. His unequal treatment towards you was obvious to anyone present when you and Rhysand occupied the same room.

“However, you-”

“Ah! Do not turn this around and make your actions and reactions my responsibility,” You warned. The male simply smirked and nodded.

“The mistrust goes both ways, and yours is highly understandable given how I treated you upon your arrival,” He leaned against the desk, “Give me time and let me make it up to you. I will make more of an effort to get to know who you are. From there we can discuss if, or when and how, to move forward with you leaving the borders of the Night Court.” You held his gaze, weighing his words. You didn’t miss the fact that there was no promise that he would ever actually allow you to leave. Nor did he give any indication of timeframe for when this future discussion would take place. But for now, this concession would have to suffice.

“So, with the research on a temporary hold,” You needed some direction, “What else will you have me do exactly? Feyre has a solid early morning routine with Nyx and-”

“You will start early morning training with the Valkyries,” The High Lord smiled as your eyes went wide, “Feyre will be taking on more responsibilities as High Lady. Primarily she will become responsible for ensure that Velaris operates smoothly so that I can focus on finally enacting the overdue changes in Illyria and the Hewn City. After all, this is a progressive court. With both of us busy, you will need to learn how to not only defend yourself as a human in the Fae lands, but also how to protect my son. Afterall, you will be with him more often than anyone else.” You groaned internally. You were not a morning nor an exercise person, and combining the two…gross. You turned towards Nesta, who appeared to be just as surprised as you with the High Lord’s declaration. However, she quickly schooled her features into an unreadable expression. Rhysand then retreated to his chair, a clear dismissal and one that you were more willing to accept. You had just made it to the doorframe when he called out.

“Oh, in the spirit of building trust, Azriel will be the one to fly you to and from the House of Wind for your training.” You stumbled at his second declaration and glanced over your shoulder, however, you stayed silent. While there had been tension from the mutual distrust between yourself and Rhys, you struggled significantly whenever the Shadowsinger was present. Therefore, it made sense to give this task to Azriel.

“You don’t have to talk to him, but being near him is a necessary step in your healing,” He continued. “Even you have to admit that.” You hated that he wasn’t wrong.

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You trudged down the steps from the top floor of the town house as you did each morning for the past four months. Each morning was just as much of a struggle as the day before. You really were not a morning person. Just like every morning, Lucien had left the simple breakfast he prepared for you both in the oven to keep warm. He was an early riser, which worked in his favor as it meant that he could avoid the male that was the bane of your existence. Although, you had to admit that that line of thinking was a bit harsh regarding Azriel. Your interactions with the hazel eyed male had been slowly, albeit excruciatingly, improving. You didn’t share more words than was absolutely necessary, but you also didn’t leave the room or run away whenever he entered.

You took the scrambled eggs out of the oven, not even bothering to get a clean plate or even move to the table. Instead you just slowly shoveled them into your mouth as you leaned against the counter top. An unpleasant shiver ran up your leg. You didn’t have to look to confirm that the sensation was brought on by one of Azriel’s shadows. A silent “hurry up”. With tensed muscles you finished your eggs and placed the skillet in the wash basin. Plucking an apple from the bowl on the center island, you headed for the front door.

“You’re late,” Azriel stated, yet there was no real irritation to his voice. You tossed the apple into the air trying to shake away the unease that his shadows still elicited whenever they touched you. The sun was just peaking up over the eastern horizon, the early rays of dawn told you that you were right on time.

“Yet it’s the same time as every other morning amigo,” You took a bite of the apple, juice dribbling on to your chin. Rotating the apple in your palm you offered the opposite side for the male to take a bite. You had been prepared for his usual refusal; however, your regular morning routine was about to take an unexpected turn. You watched in slow motion as Azriel’s scarred hand gently covered yours before he brought the apple closer to his lips. You held your breath as his eyes bore into yours, his teeth sinking into the bright red flesh of the fruit. After taking a sizable chunk he released your hand and the world sped back up. It took an additional 30 seconds for your brain to catch up.

“Az!” You tried to fight the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Did you have to make it that creepy?” The male merely shrugged in response and took a step closer before wrapping his arms around you. You stepped into the embrace, bringing your own arms around the top of his shoulders. You were always mindful of his wings, making sure as to not brush against them while still maintaining a secure grip. Not that his hold on you ever faltered. Honestly, it was a miracle-in your opinion-that he was able to fly while carrying you at all. He had assured you early on that your weight was a non-issue, but that didn’t prevent the thoughts from springing to your mind every time you had to do this.

“Come on Koala, you know the drill,” He smiled as he tapped your thigh. You rolled your eyes. Jumping as instructed you allowed him to wrap your legs around his waist, just as you had that very first day of flying. You hadn’t meant to cling to him so fiercely at that time, yet it was the only position in which you felt secure. With his arms supporting your lower back, he shot up into the sky.

Barely even 10 minutes later and you were set down in the training ring at the House of Wind.

“I’ll be back in couple hours,” and with that your personal jetpack flew back towards the expanse of mountains along the northern edge of the city. You took another bite of the apple that you thankfully managed to hold on to before it was plucked from your hands. You spun around to face the asshole of a General that had taken it from you.

“You’re late,” He smirked.

“Like Hell I am,” You glanced around the training area. So far it was just you and Cassian. Not even Lucien was present. You scowled to yourself as he claimed he would be. However, you didn’t have time to wonder where he was when a set of arms wrapped around your shoulders, pining your arms to your sides. Your newly ingrained instincts kicked in. Planting your feet as best you could you reared your head back, hoping to make contact with the face behind you. Whoever it was ducked and grabbed the high pony tail that held your hair out of your eyes. The grip was tight and you immediately regretted your actions.

“Fuck!” You hissed, reaching up to try and pry the fingers away. You found the assailants wrist and dug your nails along the tendon, effectively forcing them to loosen their grip. Ruhn howled.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” You punched his chest as he danced away from you. “Are we five-year-old’s on a playground again? When did you get back from Midgard?” The asshole just laughed.

“A few hours ago, Bryce and Hunt are still sleeping. And I would say I’m sorry, but I was instructed to not be gentle with you today,” His smile was near feral. You ignored him and grumbled to yourself as you pulled the elastic hair band out. Bending over you let your now long hair cascade towards the ground. Concentrating on gathering the (h/c) strands at the crown of your head, you didn’t see the male shamelessly staring at your ass in the training leathers you were provided.

“Ruhn’s going to be to be your sparing partner today,” Cassian informed. “Let’s get you warmed up.” You flipped your hair up and secured it back in place in a messy bun.

“Your ass is grass Danaan,” You threatened, a playful smile on your own lips. “You fucked with my hair.”

“Baby, I could have sworn you enjoyed it before,” His blue eyes sparkled with mirth in the early morning sun.

“What?! No!” You looked over at Cassian, his eye brows raised. “No! Shut up asshole.” You hadn’t even started your training and you already knew this was going to be a long morning.

“Save it for the ring,” the General motioned for you to approach him so he could assist you with the warm up. As you completed your warm up routine you heard Lucien’s rough morning voice strike up a conversation with Ruhn.

“I hear your already causing trouble,” He nagged.

“Oh no, no no no,” You waggled your index finger, marching over the redhead. “These two motherfuckers started it.” You pointed at each of the males as they tried, Ruhn failing, to suppress their laughter. Yes, it was definitely going to be one of those mornings were the males all ganged up on you before the other females arrived. And not in the fun way. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop that train of thought. The last you needed was for one of them to smell that on you. Lucien just joined in on the laughter.

“Okay settle down now,” Cassian tried to regain some semblance of control. “Square up.” You walked towards the center of the training ring and planted your feet, flexing your toes to grip the ground as best you could through your shoes. The match with Ruhn started off simple enough. You had managed to dodge his attempts to get a hold of you, and he blocked all of your attempts to strike him with your fist. It was when you miscalculated the distance between your shin and his torso that was your undoing. You swung your leg up and towards his side, but he caught it and used the momentum to pull you towards him. As soon as your chests collided you shrieked.

“No!” You couldn’t suppress the giggle. Grabbing the large hands that had danced over your ribs, you easily pushed yourself away from Ruhn.

“Aw you’re ticklish,” Ruhn teased. You increased the distance between the two of you by several paces.

“If you tickle me, I will kill you,” You knew that was a lie made from false bravado. You’d never be able to get the best of any of the males here, not while you were human. It didn’t help that you could barely keep the laugh out of your voice.

“Alright tough girl,” He smiled and resumed his stance, “Come and get me.” Before you could react, the male had darted across the training ring and picked you up as if you still didn’t weigh more than him. You had to give yourself some credit though; after all you had lost a bit of weight since your arrival over a year ago. Most of it was within the last 4 months when you started this damn training. While your current performance was not a good indicator, the training had been useful. Not only had you picked up many skills with hand to hand self-defense, you were also learning how to properly use the dagger that Lucien had gifted you.

Ruhn hauled you over his shoulder like a giant sack causing you to scream again. You tried to push yourself up so you weren’t staring at his ass that was perfectly outlined in the damn leathers he wore. Unfortunately, there was nowhere except his ass for you to put your hands to get any leverage.

“Behind the knees!” You heard Lucien encourage Ruhn.

“TRAITOR!” You shouted, voice only slightly strained as you attempted to break free from Ruhn’s grip on your calves and hips.

“Thanks for the tip,” You felt his fingers lightly brush the back part of your thigh, just above the bend at your knee. You squealed and tried to squirm away with no luck.

“What about here,” Without warning, his hand traveled up the length of your thigh before giving a playful and quick squeeze to the spot just below the curve of your ass. A ridiculously comical high-pitched squeak escaped your throat. You clamped a hand over your mouth in embarrassment over sounding just like a damn dog toy.

“Was that her?” Cassian’s laughter filled the training area. Ruhn squeezed the spot again, and again you squeaked. All three males fell into a fit of boisterous laughter. You could feel the blood rushing to your head as you continued to hang over Ruhn’s shoulder. In a last-ditch effort to free yourself, you decided that you would just start attacking what you could reach. You balled your fist and reeled your arm back before slamming it down right on his own ass check.

“Hey!” Ruhn continued to laugh. You repeated the action, but it didn’t cause him to loosen his grip in the slightest. The other males just continued to laugh. Ruhn started to spin and you could see Cassian hunched over, bracing himself on his knees.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Nesta’s voice cut through the laughter, however, it didn’t die down.

“Would you look at that,” Bryce now beside her. “Ruhn’s finally getting his ass beat…literally.” You laughed at the comment, but seeing as how the male continued to tickle and tease, you decided to up your game. You raised your arm as before, but instead of your fist, your flattened out your hand. The loud smack reverberated off the stone surrounding the arena.

“Woah now!” Ruhn attempted to jump away. You smacked him again, pleased with yourself at his reaction. Using his hips for leverage you pushed yourself up to get a better look at those around you.

“Save it for the bedroom you two!” Bryce teased. Nesta scoffed.

“What!” You screeched. Ruhn and his sister just laughed harder. Cassian was in near hysterics. You couldn’t recall if you’d ever seen him laugh so hard. However, Lucien’s laughter had died down.

“Put her down, she’s not a toy,” Nesta instructed. “We need to borrow her before she has to meet my sister.” Ruhn slowly complied, strong calloused hands gripping your waist as he set you on your feet. He pressed a quick kiss to your temple before allowing you to saunter over to Nesta and Bryce.

“So whatcha need me for?” You pulled your hair free of the elastic band for a second time, the bun having already loosened. You carded your fingers through your hair before hastily pulling it back into a high pony tail. Bryce waggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

“An experiment.”

Part 7

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young-royals-confessions · 3 months

Note

Just pitching in since I see so much discourse about will they or won’t they that I think we kind of lost the essence of the story: I mean yes, Netflix is promoting the whole are they going to be endgame or not, tune in to find out but I think that’s just a generic marketing tactic.I’ve honestly been ignoring it.

Also, Lisa doesn’t strike me as the type of writer that would push only her own personal agenda or politics to a tv show, especially one that has critical acclaim as yr. That’s not what true storytelling is about. Please bear with me (apologies in advance for the long response !) but here’s my v long winded reasoning:

The theme has always been love v. duty & the monarchy is the enemy. Wille is on a Hero’s Journey - he is ultimately the Main Character; the Young Royal. What’s great about The Hero’s Journey is that it’s easy to follow and makes for great storytelling despite its predictability. I think some people here may have touched upon this so I am simply expanding:

As a viewer, we follow Wille and get to know him. He’s a likable character and we easily root for him and feel for him when we learn about the power dynamics in play; specifically how he feels caged as a prince. Then we enter into a Call for Adventure: him falling for Simon and the high stakes he enters when his brother passes and he is now Crown Prince.

This, then, propels the story forward, given the stakes are stacked up and it’s not looking good for Wille, especially after he/we find out August was the offender for sex tape leak.

After that, we enter into The Refuse to Call for Adventure; i.e, the hero (Wille) realizes he must face the challenge. We also step into the Meeting the Mentor, which is Boris, who helps Wille learn how to stand up and ultimately fight for himself (and Simon). While I see others thinking that W might push everyone away, including skipping his appts with Boris, I do not think that’s the case. Boris was set up to be the Mentor that W needs to realize the challenge he’s been facing and we may continue seeing him open up to Boris.

This will then allow W to “Cross the Threshold” and reinforce the central theme and conflict of the story - if W continues to stay with the monarchy and his obligations as Crown Prince, he cannot choose Simon. Love or Duty? Which will prevail?

S3 crosses that threshold and produces tests and obstacles that would make the fight for his relationship w S so much more complicated (basically everything we saw in the trailer). This stage in the Hero’s Journey is meant for the audience to doubt the Hero - Wille. It’s already a testament as we are debating if W is going to denounce his title or not just from the 2 mins of what we saw from the trailer. It’s intentional. We need to doubt in order for the central theme to drive home and also portrays the monarchy to be the overarching enemy of this story, without Lisa forfeiting her own political statement.

We enter the next stage of the Journey - which is the Cave - meaning the Hero and protagonists need to regroup and prepare for a counter attack (generally speaking) because the tension is continuing to rise and there are outside forces that wish to disturb the Journey (in this case, public opinion? paparazzi? Hillerska shutting down?).

Next, we enter the Ordeal - which makes the Hero break down bc he enters a mental barrier and is pushed to a corner. However, the Hero, typically comes out stronger after this stage in storytelling.

Ultimately, we reach the end: The Reward. The Hero makes the “attack” or choice and defeats the enemy/antagonist.

Imo, with how everything is set up, I do think it’s set up for W and S to be together in the end at least the end of the show (everything else after is obviously left for the audience member to interpret).

I have no doubt that W & S are going to come up on top and still be together in the end bc like some people mentioned - what would be the point? It was never a question whether they would end up together. The question is if Wille, our Hero in this story, would make the final choice and choose between love or duty. I think Wille would choose love. What better way of making history, especially with everything that’s been happening in real events, then choosing love? That would make for a strong ending.

#young royals #hero's journey #wilhelm #yr s3 spoilers #s3 speculation #wilmon #wilmon endgame #love or duty

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 27 days

Text

Something There (Chapter 12)

6.8k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, references to smutty things, absolute fluffy fluff

Series Masterlist

A/N: This has... taken a while, lol. Honestly, I've been struggling with how to end this, mostly because I don't want to say goodbye to Roy and Bucky! But, all good (or at least halfway decent) things must come to an end. (Plus, I already know there'll be some blurbs featuring these two!) I hope you enjoy, and thanks for coming along for the ride ❤️

“What would you say is your greatest accomplishment?”

Roy nodded towards me and smirked. “Can I answer for her?”

Another “Manager Monday”. Apparently, people liked seeing Roy and me sitting together and answering questions. According to Keeley, the internet referred to us as the “Mum and Dad” of Nelson Road. It was weird and a little flattering, if I was being honest. And, frankly, getting to goof around and not-so-subtly flirt with Roy on camera during work hours was a pretty good deal.

“No, you cannot,” Keeley chuckled. “Go on then, greatest accomplishment.”

“Winning my Olympic Gold Medal,” I answered, elbowing Roy when I heard his good-natured snicker. “It was something my grandpa and I talked about for as long as I can remember. And he did come see me win it. After that, whenever he introduced me to people, it was always, ‘This is my granddaughter. She’s an Olympian.’” I smiled at the memory before turning to Roy. “What’s yours? That year you led the league in red cards?”

Roy’s smile had my heart doing somersaults. “You fucking know it.”

With lots of laughter and poor attempts to hide our flirting, we got through a couple more soccer-related questions before Keeley broached the topic we both knew she was dying to get to.

“So, the internet has been debating between two couple names for you two,” she announced mischievously. “‘Boy’ and ‘Rocky’. Which do you prefer?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Keeley,” he growled, as I snorted, “We’re not answering that.”

While we were more than happy to let our friends at Nelson Road know about our relationship and annoy them with our PDA, we had agreed not to make any big public show of things- at least not until the season ended. We were enough of a distraction when we were just a few blurry photos the night of the gala; we didn’t want to take away any more media attention from the club, not when our teams were on the verge of something great.

Keeley rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine. But once you two go public, you know better get used to those questions, alright? Because you guys are really fucking cute, and the internet loves you already.”

“We are pretty cute, I’ll give you that,” I chuckled, taking Roy’s hand and smiling at the grumpy coach- my grumpy coach.

In return, he leaned over and pecked my lips gently. “That better not fucking end up online,” he warned Keeley, thick eyebrows raised threateningly.

“We’d break the internet with that little kiss,” she teased, winking at me. “Better be nice to me, or I’m leaking that clip.”

“Careful,” Roy replied with a nod in my direction, affection sparkling in his eyes. “I heard this one’s got a mean right hook.”

Roy leaned on the doorframe, enjoying the view. Who would’ve thought that just watching someone put on makeup would make him so fucking happy?

But seeing her standing in front of his bathroom sink and applying that red lipstick had his heart skipping a couple beats. He liked this domestic thing, the sleepovers and the driving to work together and the making dinner and… everything. He wanted more of it, he realized. He wanted more of her. The word was on the tip of his tongue, the word that had been floating around in his head since they got together, since the gala if he was being honest. Maybe even before that, he didn't fucking know. But it was too soon, he knew. Things were already going fast enough and, although she was diving in headfirst just as hard, Roy was still worried about scaring her off.

Her playful eyes met his in the mirror. “Can I help you, Kent?” she teased.

He shrugged and pushed himself off the doorframe so he could stroll over casually. “Just admiring the view.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a slow kiss to her cheek. “I like when you wear that color.” Another kiss to her temple. “Especially when it ends up on my neck,” he hummed.

“Fuck off,” she chuckled, elbowing him gently. “Come on, let me finish getting ready. Otherwise, you’re going to be late to your game, Coach.”

“Fine,” he growled. “But after the match?”

She whirled around and grabbed his face gently, her eyes bright. “After the match, I promise my lipstick will be all over your neck.” She pressed her body close to his. “And maybe some other particular places.” Her red lips formed that smirk he loved, the one he couldn’t believe he used to find annoying. “But only if you win.”

Roy grinned, eyebrows raised at her appealing offer. “Well, lucky for me I’m the manager of a winning team.”

“That is lucky,” she purred, nudging her nose against his. “Now then, can I go put on my new Greyhounds kit?”

His grin widened. “You got a fucking Greyhounds kit?”

She shrugged. “Of course. I’m part of Richmond. I like the fellas. And I’m pretty obsessed with their pain in the ass manager.” She smiled. “It’s about time I start rocking some Greyhound gear.”

Roy’s heart was soaring. He loved wearing her name and number on his back, even if it made their relationship obvious to anyone who was paying even an ounce of attention. And he’d be lying his ass off if he said he hadn’t pictured what she’d look like wearing his name on a kit. Granted, some of those pictures in his head were in his bed rather than at a match, but still. What a fucking dream come true.

“Alright,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Hurry up then, Coach.”

Roy probably would have skipped to the living room if it weren’t for this shit knee. With no one around, he didn’t bother hiding his stupid grin, the one he found himself wearing quite often these days. The internet had gone a bit wild with images of him wearing her name on his Whippets kit; he could only imagine the silly little fan edits and TikToks that would surely follow this match.

“What d’you think?”

Roy’s old man heart nearly stopped in his chest. The bright red and blue material hugged her figure perfectly, tempting him to rip it off of her and forget all about his match. The little Greyhound logo settled beautifully over her heart, just like the Whippets manager had weaseled her way into his. He was officially obsessed with the picture in front of him, he decided.

“Fucking perfect,” he hummed. He twirled his finger in a circle, eyebrows raised. He just needed to see one more thing. “Give us a spin, then.”

Her grin widened as she turned around, something mischievous in her eyes. Roy sat up a little straighter, unashamed to be so obviously excited to see-

“Does that fucking say Tartt?” he spat, pure disgust smeared across his bearded face.

Her laughter rang in his ears, almost magical enough to make him forget about this absolute betrayal. He narrowed his eyes at her as she turned back around, shameless amusement on her face. “What’s the matter, Roy?” she teased as she made her way over to where he slumped on the couch. “Don’t you think I look good?”

He reached out and tugged her onto his lap, doing his best to keep his stern expression. “I think,” he growled against her shoulder, pawing at the material, “that you need to take that fucking thing off.”

With a giggle, she grabbed his wrist and looked at his watch, reminding Roy of the night of the gala- their very first night. “Ah, no time to change, I’m afraid.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, careful not to leave any lipstick on his face. “Let’s go, Kent.”

Still grumbling and growling, Roy allowed himself to be pulled off the couch and dragged out of the house. When she wasn’t looking, he shook his head and smiled softly at her. Even with such a stupid name on her back, Roy still thought that seeing her in a Greyhounds kit was his new favorite sight.

He just couldn’t wait to rip the damn thing off of her.

“Let’s fucking go, Greyhounds!” I screeched, ignoring the way Keeley covered her ears.

After everything that had happened this season, both on and off the field, it was hard to believe it was coming to an end. Tonight, the Greyhounds were only one victory away winning the Premier League. And, after weeks of wearing Jamie’s name and other players’ names on my back just to mess with Roy (and the internet), I was proudly wearing his name and our number on my Greyhounds sweatshirt.

Keeley leaned close and held out her phone. “You’re already trending,” she teased, showing off a blurry photo of Roy and me entering the stadium, with me wearing Roy’s name and my signature red lipstick as I smiled up at the Greyhound manager. “And so is this.” There was Jamie Tartt, entering the stadium, wearing a fanny pack and, as usual, a hat. Unlike usual, this hat didn’t say “ICON”; instead, it proudly proclaimed “ROCKY”.

I rolled my eyes as the guys took their places on the field. “Is that a reference to that stupid ‘couple name’ thing?” I groaned. “Because you’re all supposed to be helping us keep quiet, you know.”

The sly way Keeley narrowed her eyes had me almost squirming. “Yeah. Because the way you two act during Manager Mondays and wearing each other’s kits is really discreet.” Suddenly, her suspicious expression turned somber, giving me a new urge to fidget. “How’s it all going by the way? You and him? The two of you seem pretty damn happy these days.”

“We are,” I assured her, not bothering to stop my wide smile from filling my face. “He’s… well, you know how he is.” I gave a soft chuckle as I looked down to the pitch and watched Roy lean over to say something to Coach Beard. Perfect, I decided. That was how Roy was; perfect. From the way he stood during games, shoulders squared and all business, to the way he always stole a quick kiss when our paths crossed at work, to the way his strong hands tenderly adored me in bed, to the lazy afternoons on his couch, to the phone calls and texts that flooded my phone whenever we were apart, to the way he made me laugh and smile in between all those moments. Roy Kent was fucking perfect. “He’s Roy.”

Keeley’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. “I do know how he is,” she said carefully. The little clearing of her throat had me turning my eyes to her. Her eyebrows knitted together, as if she thought I would slug her at any moment. “And I hope this isn’t totally inappropriate, but we were talking last week- and he was saying he’s so fucking happy,” she quickly added, probably seeing my slowly raising eyebrows. “He’s just worried about being… clingy?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at how completely apprehensive my friend looked. “Oh, Roy’s clingy as fuck,” I said. “But I like it.” I shrugged, my eyes returning to the gruff man on the pitch that had weaseled his way into my heart. “I… I’m clingy too,” I admitted. “I think that’s why we work, actually. We’re both pretty intense people, we both do everything at full speed, you know? So, one person’s idea of ‘too clingy’ is my idea of ‘absolutely fucking perfect’.”

The smile on Keeley’s face was filled with joy and a bit of relief. “I’m so happy to hear that,” she said, grabbing my hand and intertwining our fingers. “Really. He deserves the best and you-” She smacked a kiss to my cheek. “-are the fucking best, babes.”

The tips of Roy’s fingers tingled as he stared down Jamie, who was making a mad dash towards their opponent’s goal. There were only moments left before stoppage time ended in a tie and the match inevitably went to extra time, which had been a dangerous place for the Greyhounds all season long. If Jamie couldn’t beat both the clock and goalkeeper, it felt like their season would end in defeat. And Roy couldn’t have that. Not this season. Not when everything seemed to be ending so well, on and off the pitch.

Only one defender stood between Jamie and the goal. Roy held his breath as he watched Jamie move this way and that, doing a maneuver he knew Tartt hadn’t learned from any of the coaches on the pitch; he’d learned this particular move from the Whippets. And he’d apparently learned it well, because suddenly Jamie was in front of the goal, kicking the ball and-

“JAMIE TARTT SCORES!”

Less than a moment later, the familiar sound of the referee’s whistle had all of Nelson Road in pure pandemonium. Roy sprinted onto the field, not caring about his stupid knee, and was instantly swallowed by the swarm of blue that was his team. He grabbed and hugged whoever was close by, not caring to see anything other than their wide eyes and wider smiles. He wondered ever so briefly if anything in his career would ever live up to this moment; he knew nothing before ever had. And, if he was being quite honest, he could live with this being the happiest moment of his career.

He was hugging Jamie tight, mumbling something about being fucking proud of the prick, when he heard some of his players call his name in teasing voices. He knew those tones; he’d been hearing them a lot lately, caused by one thing- well, one person- every fucking time.

Sure enough, when Roy glanced over his shoulder, the sight made his smile grow.

There she was, clad in her Greyhounds sweater, running at him. He knew she’d regret this run in the morning- they’d probably spend the whole next day icing ankles and knees- but she didn’t look like she cared. In fact, she looked like she didn’t care about anything other than Roy.

She threw herself into his arms and let him envelop her in a tight hug, one far too tight for two platonic managers to share.

“I’m proud of you,” she huffed into the crook of his neck. “So fucking proud, Roy.”

He released her slightly so she could gaze up at him, her eyes full of adoration and joy. Deep in his chest, Roy held a hope that she would stare at him like this for the rest of their lives. “Fucking come here,” he murmured, his hands leaving her hips to cup her face.

At some point over the season, Roy had lost count of how many times he’d kissed this woman. There were some kisses that were irrevocably stamped on his heart- their first kiss while sitting on his couch listening to Sam Cooke, the kiss in the rain after he’d given her the Team USA football, the sweet kiss they’d shared after he asked her to be his girlfriend- but this was probably his favorite so far. It was soft and slow, and it made the roar of the crowd go silent in Roy’s mind. He knew there was no going back from this; there would be photos of this kiss in the papers, and he’d definitely be asked about it in the post-match press conference. They’d once again be the subject of rumors and speculation, with Twitter users trying to put together a timeline and reanalyzing every little interaction they’d had over these last few months. It was going to be pure fucking hell.

But thankfully, his own personal heaven was in his arms.

When they parted, she wore a wide grin, the kind that made his heart skip a beat. “Congrats on the win, Coach,” she chuckled as she ruffled his hair. “Can’t believe you guys beat us to it.” She kissed his lips effortlessly, as if she kissed him on the pitch every day. “Whatever happened to ladies first?”

Roy shook his head and tightened his grip on her. “Just means the Whippets get to be the grand finale.”

“Grand finale,” she repeated, giving his jacket a tug to pull him back to herself. “I like the sound of that, Kent.”

Roy could’ve stayed on that pitch forever, holding her and kissing her, finally able to show everyone how he felt about her and how she miraculously felt about him. The feeling of winning the whole fucking thing, and having his girl in his arms, and hearing his team shout and celebrate, it was intoxicating as hell.

But, as Keeley reminded him with a giggle, there was pomp and circumstance to get through.

His whole body shook with excitement as he stood by Rebecca’s side and received the trophy. In the smiling crowd, he locked gazes with those familiar eyes. Could his smile get any bigger? he wondered. Surely that would be the morning headline: Richmond’s Roy Kent finally knows how to smile. And damn, if it wasn’t something he wanted to keep doing.

Once things began to die down on the pitch, Keeley began herding him towards the press conference he still had to do before celebrating with the team. He kept an arm wrapped around the Whippet’s manager as he finally made his way through the halls, to the familiar door that led to the press room. He paused in front of it, thinking about all the less-than-stellar moments he’d had in there. Announcing his retirement. Watching Jamie have a meltdown. Throwing a chair at George fucking Willows after being asked about Keeley. Being asked intrusive questions about his love life and the drama of this season. Some crappy things happened in that room, he admitted to himself.

But today? Today he walked in with his head held high; for the first time in a long time, Roy Kent felt nothing but good about himself and his life. His team was officially the best in the Premier League, and he had the girl of his dreams to kiss after the match. He allowed himself a smile as he settled in front of the cameras, enjoying the surprise on the reporters’ faces when they caught sight of his expression. In the back of the room, Keeley gave him a thumbs up before wrapping her arm around the Whippets’ manager, who shot him a wink that had his stupid grin widening.

Yeah. This might be the best fucking day of his whole fucking life.

The clamoring began before he even sat down. Roy rolled his eyes, albeit good-naturedly for once, and pointed to a familiar face, a reporter he didn’t fully hate. “Yeah?”

“Coach Kent, how does it feel to lead the Greyhounds to do the impossible?”

Roy leaned into his seat, determined to at least look relaxed. “Feels fucking great,” he said. “And I’m going to ignore that ‘impossible’ thing.” He smirked at the tittering from the reporters. “Because honestly, this team is fucking incredible. And anyone who thought this was ‘impossible’ for those lads hasn’t been paying attention.” After answering a few questions about the season and the match, he could see the journalists beginning to get restless. It was clear what they would be asking next. He pointed to another raised hand. “You.”

“A certain coach had an… interesting way of congratulating you,” the reporter asked in a timid voice. “Anything to say about that?”

For a moment, he glanced to the back of the room. Not to Keeley, like he usually did during these things, but to the pair of eyes that gazed back with a beautiful mixture of adoration and teasing. Another wink encouraged him to lean forward on his elbows and ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. “There’s a lot I can say about that,” he chuckled. “But, all I will say is this-” He looked directly at those bright eyes. “-I’m fucking mad about that woman. She seems to think I’m alright, which is nice. And she continues to be one of the most impressive managers I’ve had the honor of watching on the pitch. And I am looking forward to seeing her and the Whippets kick some serious ass next weekend.”

More questions were hurled at him, mostly excited and kind ones, but Roy didn’t really hear them. He was too focused on trying not to simply sit and stare at that pretty face that smiled at him and made him feel like he’d won more than the Premier League.

I pulled my dark blue blazer on and turned to get a good look at myself in the mirror. Dark blue blazer, white blouse, best jeans, hair up in a ponytail, red lipstick applied, necklace my grandfather had given me around my neck. This was it, I decided. This was the outfit of a Women’s Super League-winning coach.

“You look fucking amazing.” A pair of strong arms wrapped around me as a scruffy kiss smacked my cheek. “Like a fucking winner.” Roy smirked at me in the mirror. He looked damn good in his white Whippets kit, the number six on his back and something that kind of looked like love in his eyes. If my entire season wasn’t on the line, I’d be debating ripping off that jersey and throwing Roy onto the bed. “Gonna wear your gold medal?” he teased.

With an eyeroll, I slipped out of his grasp and sat on my bed. “Just toss me my sneakers, Kent.”

Roy raised an eyebrow as he moved towards my familiar Converse that sat perfectly next to the closet. “Wow, I get to touch the Match Day shoes? What an honor.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled as I took the shoes from him and tugged them on. “I’m hoping your luck from last weekend rubs off on me and the Whippets.” I knew that underneath my joking tone, he could hear my nerves. Roy always seemed to know what was going on beneath the surface.

Sure enough, he sat down next to me and took my hand. “Oi.” His voice was as soft as his gaze. “You’re going to be fucking brilliant.” He kissed my forehead. “Your team is incredible. You are incredible. You’re Coach Bucky. World Cup winner, Olympic champion, NWSL Coach of the Year.” He shook his head as he rattled off my résumé with a smile on his face. “You’ve fucking got this.”

“I know.”

He raised his thick eyebrows at me expectantly. “But?”

“But…” I sighed heavily and let my head fall against his shoulder. “There’s just so much pressure,” I murmured. “It’s our first season. And with all of my personal drama…” I closed my eyes. “I have to win. I have to show that I’m a fucking winner. If I don’t, I’ll forever be that slutty American who slept with Roy freaking Kent.”

He gave me a light shove. “Oi, I thought you liked sleeping with Roy Kent.”

“Roy,” I huffed. “I’m being serious. I need to win today. I have to prove that I deserve to be taken seriously. Everything I’ve built this year is on the line. If we don’t do this, I don’t know-”

“Babe.” Roy shifted and lifted my legs until they draped over his lap. His arms felt like a warm blanket as they wrapped around my waist and tugged me close. “You don’t have to prove shit to anyone. You’re lightyears better at this job than I am-” A snort slipped out of my nose. “-and everyone knows it, no matter what happens today. You are brilliant and accomplished. And if it’s not this year, it’ll be next year.” He gave me a squeeze. “But I believe in you. Your team believes in you. Rebecca and Keeley and all the Greyhounds believe in you. Fuck what anyone else says.” He kissed my forehead, lingering for a moment. “You can always just punch them anyways.”

Fucking Roy, making me laugh and forget my anxiety. As I smiled through my nerves and kissed his mouth, probably smudging my lipstick, all I could think was how badly I wanted him to make me laugh for the rest of my fucking life.

The feeling of pride in Roy’s chest was unlike anything he’d ever felt in his life. The energy of the stadium vibrated through his whole body, and he couldn’t help the lump in his throat when he saw how absolutely packed the place was. He walked confidently into the owners’ box holding Phoebe’s hand tight. He smiled down at his bouncing niece, with her bright eyes and her own Bucky kit. She was talking a million miles a minute, reminding him of Keeley, chattering all about how well she knew the Whippets would do and asking if Roy was really going to take her onto the pitch after the match if the Whippets won. Her yammering only stopped so she could give Keeley a hug and take her seat next to the blonde.

“Ready to see your girl in action?” Keeley teased over Phoebe’s head as Roy took his seat.

His broad smile would have been enough of an answer. “She’s gonna be so fucking brilliant,” Roy laughed. “I can fucking feel it.” He narrowed his eyes at Phoebe’s expectant face. “Add it to my tab,” he grumbled.

To his surprise, Phoebe shook her head. “You get a free pass today, Uncle Roy,” she informed him earnestly. “It’s a very big day for Bucky and you’re probably very stressed.” She nodded, her demeanor comically matter of fact. “So, I’ll let it slide. Just for today.”

“Thanks, Pheebs,” he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. He nodded to Rebecca as she took her spot on Keeley’s other side. “Boss,” he greeted with a salute.

“Coach Kent,” she replied, a sparkle in her eye as she saluted back. “Beautiful night for a game, hmm?” Despite her calm tone, Roy could see the way her fingers drummed on her lap nervously.

He smirked at her. “Ready to be the owner of two winning teams?”

She shook her head, holding back a laugh. “Not thinking about it,” she announced firmly. “I am just going to enjoy the match, cheer for our girls, and feel proud of them no matter what.”

Keeley, Roy, and Pheobe all just stared at her until a smile broke out across her face.

“Alright, yes, I’m fucking ready!” She turned her attention to the field, where the Whippets were beginning to line up. “Let’s go, Whippets!”

The quartet were joined in the box by Beard and Nate and Jamie, who looked quite comfortable wearing Kira Malone’s name on his back. There were deafening cheers all around as the Whippets were introduced. Roy’s whole body felt warm as he bellowed their names; even without being head over heels for their manager, Roy would feel beyond proud of these women. He’d watched them work all season long, through sweat and injuries and fatigue and the harsh media. And they’d done it all with smiles on their faces and their heads held high. They were impressive and inspiring, and Roy already knew they would win that trophy.

And they had ninety minutes to do it.

After the players were introduced, the Whippets’ coaches stepped forward to shake hands with the opposing coaching staff. Of course, every eye in the owners’ box turned to Roy with mischievous smirks on their faces.

Not that Roy noticed. He was too busy jumping to his feet so he could cup his hands around his mouth and bellow, “Let’s fucking go, Buck!”

With that colossal voice of his, no one was surprised to see the manager look up in their direction. Her red-lipped smile was clear as day, and they all oohed teasingly when they saw her blow a kiss up towards them.

“Obviously that was for me,” Jamie joked, turning around and winking at his manager.

“Fuck off,” Roy chuckled as he resumed his seat. He gave the striker a light shove before turning his attention back to the pitch. Fuck, how was he supposed to focus on the match that was starting when she was down there, looking strong and confident and powerful- not to mention gorgeous. His heart hammered in his chest as he watched her in her element, shouting excitedly at her team and reaching out for Luke’s hand every now and then. Some part of him wanted to watch her forever; the other part of him couldn’t wait for the ninety minutes to end so he could wrap his arms around her and celebrate her victory.

A stray piece of popcorn smacked him in the temple and diverted his attention.

Keeley shot him that shit-eating grin and tossed a fresh piece of popcorn into her mouth. “You’re drooling, Roy-o.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and reached over Phoebe’s lap to steal a handful of Keeley’s popcorn. “Yeah, yeah,” was all he could manage. He smiled down at Pheobe, whose attention was rapt with the match in front of her. “Having fun?” he asked loudly, amused to find that her trance was just as intense as the one he’d just been in.

All the little blonde could do was nod, mouth slightly agape, as she watched the Whippets score their first goal of the match. The entire stadium was on their feet, deafening with their shouts and cheers as the players embraced. But of course, the only thing Roy could see was their manager and the way she looked up at the owners’ box, right at him.

Lucas was holding my hand so tight he was going to cause permanent damage to my blood circulation. Not that I cared; we had succeeded in keeping the game tied 2-2 all through stoppage time, and now Amanada Camacho had managed to secure a penalty kick. With my free hand, I gripped my necklace tightly, as if the little gold charm would somehow direct Amanda’s kick into the right direction.

The forward made her move, running towards the ball, and gave a powerful kick-

That sailed perfectly into the corner of the goal, out of the goalie’s reach.

In unison, Lucas and I let out sharp screams and crashed into each other’s arms, trading kisses on cheeks and foreheads. When the referee blew her whistle, we sprinted onto the field, greeting our mob of Whippets in a pile of hugs that evolved into a mountain of players and staff tumbling over each other. It was loud and chaotic- and beautiful. Somewhere in the reveling, tears had formed in my eyes, but they didn’t fall until I found myself face to face with Rebecca’s glowing smile and own teary eyes.

“Well done,” she said simply, wrapping me in a tight hug. “Well fucking done.”

I melted into her embrace- fuck, how was this woman so perfect that even her hugs were the best?- and finally let the tears fall. “Thank you for believing in me,” was all I could manage.

She shook her head. “That’s just the Richmond way,” she chuckled as Keeley approached us.

The blonde wrapped us both into a group hug, chattering about how brilliant the girls had been, how brilliant I had been, how we were going to have the biggest celebration ever once we left the stadium, how I’d better have brought a change of clothes like she’d instructed me so we could party properly.

But her excitement was drowned out by my beating heart when I caught sight of a pair of beautiful brown eyes sparkling at me.

“Kent!” I shrieked, breaking free of my bosses’ warm embraces. I sprinted towards him, this time under stadium lights and falling confetti rather than pouring rain, and launched myself into his arms. He caught me with ease, lifting me and letting me wrap my legs around him. With a couple of first place finishes under our belts, we were finally free to be as publicly insufferable as we wanted- which I planned on taking full advantage of. I figured a dramatic kiss on the pitch was a good start, and Roy seemed to agree as he attached his lips to mine hungrily.

“So. Fucking,” he huffed into my mouth between kisses, “Proud.” He held me tighter, pressing my chest harshly to his. “You’re amazing.”

I finally removed myself from the kiss so I could bury my burning hot face in his shoulder. He let me plant my feet back on the ground, but kept his arms firmly around me. “Roy,” I murmured, realizing I had something important to tell him. “I-”

“Bucky!” Phoebe jumped onto my back, nearly knocking me over.

“Pheebs!” I laughed, turning away from Roy so I could hug his niece. “I’m so glad you came,” I gushed. “Your team wins a championship next, right?” When I glanced up at Roy over Phoebe’s head, he was already gazing at me, something soft on his face. He’d been doing that a lot lately, I realized as I returned his smile. This gentle stare that held something significant, something I felt sure one of us would break down and say soon. Something I’d wanted to say since I first ran out in the rain to him.

But I didn’t have time to think about that. Not when my team was calling for me to join them to be crowned the Women’s League champions and hoist the trophy in the air and beam with pride as cameras flashed in our faces.

I was still beaming as I held Roy’s hand in the club the Greyhounds and Whippets took over to celebrate both of our victories; Rebecca was something of a blubbering mess as she took the microphone early in the night and thanked both clubs for their hard work, thanked our coaching staffs for surviving the wild ride that had been our season (Beard raised his eyebrows in our direction, clearly remembering being frustrated enough to lock us in a shed), and above all thanked Keeley for being her partner in the adventure of establishing what she knew would be a great legacy of women’s football in Richmond.

By the time Rebecca finished and called me up to make my own speech, I was close to joining Rebecca in her tears; unfortunately, I knew I wouldn’t look as graceful as she did once my waterworks began flowing. So instead, I focused on smiling as I kissed her cheek and took the accepted the microphone from her.

“How’re we feeling, Richmond?” I was answered with cheers and shouts from our teams and their loved ones. “I’ll try to keep this brief so we can get back to partying- although my Whippets probably already know I’m not as capable of brevity as the Greyhounds say Coach Kent is.” The mere mention of Roy’s name provoked catcalls and wolf whistles from both squads. “Calm down,” I laughed, shaking my head when I caught Roy’s not-really-annoyed eyeroll aimed at Jamie. “I just want to say thank you,” I continued once the commotion subsided. “Thank you to the Whippets, for all of your incredible work and dedication. I think we made it clear to the Women’s Super League and all of England that W.F.C. Richmond has arrived.” Cheers again filled the club, as well as my heart. “Thank you to our fearless leaders Keeley and Rebecca, for believing in us every step of the way.” Keeley’s little bow alongside Rebecca’s refined wave had me giggling into the microphone. “A special thanks to our dear Greyhounds. It was an adjustment learning to work together-” Coach Beard’s exaggerated groan could be heard loudly over everyone else’s teasing hums. “-but we managed.” I shot Roy a wink that was returned with a blown kiss. “And, personally, more than anyone else I have to thank my right-hand man.” My eyes found Lucas’s. “Luke,” I sighed. “You formed me into the player I was so proud to be. You mentored me into the coach I’ve become. You were insane enough to follow me here for this adventure, you held my hand during every scary moment and picked me up every time I fell. We came here for greatness-” I shrugged, gesturing to the assembled group of champion athletes. “- and I think we fucking found it.” Both teams hollered in agreement, but still managed to hear my last few words: “Richmond on three! One, two, three-”

“RICHMOND!”

In a blur of cheers and hugs and kisses, I finally found myself back in Roy’s embrace, accepting the chaste kiss he pressed to my lips.

“Wanna sneak off for a moment?” he hummed in my ear. “After that, I need to give you a proper kiss. And if I do that here, I think Beard might actually be fucking ill.”

I leaned into his touch. “Can’t have that,” I teased back.

We wandered away from the bar, ignoring the eyerolls from our friends when they caught sight of our lovesick expressions. We had warned them early on; they were going to miss the days of our screaming matches and insults. These days, instead of walking in on arguments, they walked in on make out sessions. Jamie had more than a few times accused us of trying to make him go blind. Even Keeley grimaced when I asked if she wanted to continue Manager Mondays next season, clearly regretting asking us to be more affectionate once we were public.

All season everyone bitched at us about getting along. We were only giving the people what they wanted.

Roy clearly knew what he wanted when he found a dark, isolated corner where he could press my back against a column that hid us from view. His mouth melded with mine as his hands lazily stroked up and down my sides. I sighed against his kiss and snaked my arms around his neck, pulling him flush against me. My mind was filled with thoughts of the weeks ahead of us; sure, we’d have a shit ton of press, but once the circus was over, this was all I wanted to worry about. We’d floated the idea of going on some fabulous vacation together, turning our phones off and isolating ourselves in a little bubble of sex and food and laughter. I’d told Roy we could settle plans once the seasons were ended, which he had seemed thrilled about. Or at least as thrilled as Roy could manage. But as I kissed him harshly and melted in his arms, I briefly considered that spending our entire break locked in his house with nothing but takeout, movies, and his bed sounded just as good as whatever destination he had in mind.

Still, we’d worked hard and gone through a lot; we deserved a damn vacation.

“You’re fucking incredible,” he mumbled as he began to wander down my neck. “Seeing you on the pitch today… and up there with your speech…” He groaned softly and pressed a slow kiss to my collarbone. “Don’t think I’ve ever loved you more than I do right now.”

My grip on him tightened as my body tensed up. Not bothering to hide my wide smile, I tugged at him until his face was inches away from mine. “You love me?”

His smile was sloppy and bashful, my favorite sight. “Fucking ’course I do,” he murmured as he brushed some hair out of my face. “You’re something special, you know that? I think I’ve loved you since that moment in the shed at the fucking retreat, hearing you say we were both going to win the whole fucking thing. Called it ‘fairy tale shit’.” He touched his nose to mine. “This right here, this is some fairy tale shit.”

“It is,” I breathed before closing the space between your mouths, pulling Roy into a tender kiss. Before I could deepen it into something a bit harsher, he pulled back, eyebrow quirked playfully. “What?” I chuckled.

“I love you,” he whispered, raising both eyebrows now.

I nodded, trying to hide the grin that was growing on my face. “So I heard.”

He rolled his eyes and took my face in his hands. “Anything you care to say to me, Coach Buck?”

He knew. Of course he fucking knew. He knew from the way I kissed him and the way I looked at him and the way I held him close whenever I could. He knew from the way we made love at night and made breakfast together in the morning. He knew from the way our fingertips brushed when we passed each other at work. He knew from the million little things we shared every day.

But sometimes, a fella needs to hear the words.

“Fine,” I huffed, all faux exasperation as I tugged his face back towards mine. “I guess I love you too.”

Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator@reading-blogs@callmecasey81@ladygrey03@puckyou-forpuckssake@royalestrellas@shineforever19@rae4725@burnafter-reading@her-fandom-sanctum@infinetlyforgotten@giggling-sewer-ginger@whataloadofmalarkey@agentstarkid@kingleahhh@tortilla-maria1@geekgirl1996@amatswimming@meg-ro@spicyraccoonlordking@spaghetti-dad187@needlesthreadandbuttons@elissaaa@imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme@reverieisaway@djskakakaksjsj-blog@thatonedogwithablog@allthetroubleiveseen@sunderland-6@netflix-addict@paranormal-is-my-life@jill2629-blog@itsbuzzfeedbitch@pretzelactivist@amieinghigh@kashee-h@beingalive1@mythicalbinicorn@needyomega@kno-way-home@janalustare@sssatorus@its-a-rich-mans-world@confessionsofatotaldramaslut@hesitant-alien33@katie-sheep-111@bonesbonesetc@seacactusplant@thebookwormlife @dreamscape22 @rae4725@timelordhunterandmysterysolver@littleesilvia@anonurs@itswhateveripromise@chewymoustachio @gcidrvsh @katdahlali @ohwauwdoritos @lemoonandlestars @perfectwhispersvoid@seatbacksandtraytables@kingleahhh@maackiimoo @isuspectitwasthenargles @bannsshheeebiittcchhhh @charkachow @gcstnml @queen-of-the-downtown-scene

#roy kent something there #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso

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deepseaorcapt · 8 months

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Hi, saw you mention missing writing for Revali. Was curious how would you envision (HCs) a Revali that survived Calamity (AoC) but a time skip passes and the events of Totk begin?

Hello! Thanks for your suggestion, I honestly have been thinking and debating on this for quite some time. It seems like it's time that I finally put my ideas out in the world! My first time doing HCs but I hope you enjoy it!

Revali surviving the Calamity and his life with his spouse:

I like to think Revali gained some sort of scar from the fight with Windblight Ganon.

A long scar in the form of a beam that goes across his chest and the side of his neck when he got hit.

From an outsider’s perspective, it didn’t seem that deep, but the medics concluded it was much of an injury to tell him he shouldn’t exert much into physical activities.

Unfortunately, he still does overtrain from time-to-time to the dismay of his, now, spouse.

On top of that, he still leads the rito warriors, organizing the operations and their duties to protect Rito Village. Sometimes, he takes hours just training and planning with the village elder.

It takes a lot of convincing to get him to rest, but the moment he sees the desperation in your eyes, he sighs and heads home with your arm wrapped in his.

"Revali."

"I know, I… I’m sorry"

Since the calamity, Revali has been trying to be better at depending on others, especially since he’s chosen to have you in his life, not wanting to hurt you more by shutting you out.

Still, bad habits die hard. At the very least, he tries.

Getting home, it became a habit to lightly caress the scar on his chest as you both lie in your shared hammock.

The sensation bothered him for the first couple of months, but eventually, he couldn't sleep without it.

It's like a comforting feeling that he's alive, lucky enough to survive and live with you. Fortunate enough to see Hyrule again in its glory; For that, he's extremely grateful to Goddess Hylia.

There are a lot of days where he wakes up in the middle of the night.

Throat dry and eyes wide, awakened by the nightmare that haunts him in the form of Windblight Ganon.

It’s only when he feels your body lean towards him in the hammock when he relaxes.

On most days, you wake up feeling his panic, consoling and letting him find comfort in your embrace.

But in the rare instance you stay asleep, he takes a walk or a flight just around the village.

There is just this one time where you woke in the middle of the night, looking for his warm blanket of wings in your shared hammock.

In a panic, you ran around the village. It was only when you noticed a string of smoke from the flight range that you finally let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Still a bit sleepy, you make your way to him. Finding him, staring at his bow once more with paranoia in his eyes.

Your embrace wakes him up from the thoughts that plagued his mind, his tears made yours water in response.

Since then, he has been trying his best to wake you up on those nights; Trying to actually ask for help, knowing that he doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

#legend of zelda #loz fanfic #loz x reader #botw #aoc #breath of the wild #age of calamity #botw revali #revali #x reader #revali x reader #revalillia #writing #headcanon #headcanons #hcs #tewo-riting

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sunenjoyswriting · 4 months

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Saw your call, and I again apologize! I requested a Gender-Neutral reader making a strawberry tart for Riddle because they noticed he was stressed out.

Tarts!

Writers note: Ah… I could not help but write quite the bit of comedy into this. Listen, it’s what I’m best at writing!

Possible warnings: Stressing (by Riddle), that should be it for the actual warnings. Reader is Yuu, because I find trying to bake in the safety hazard of a dorm called Ramshackle funny.

Riddle is never the best at hiding his stress. It was quite obvious, really... He manages to get EVEN EASIER to make angry (woah that's like... Impossible.), and before you know it all of heartslabyul has a heart-shaped collar around their neck (I bet half of them didn't even break the rules honestly, Riddle just sucks at containing his anger)

But you knew the way to calm him down - sweets, of course! What better way is there?

So here you were, attempting to make a tart (strawberry tart, in particular. You knew he likes those ones.)

It was going fine. I mean, I don't think the ramshackle kitchen is safe to cook in (the entire dorm is a safety hazard honestly), but the tart wasn't burning or anything! You'd learnt quite a few tricks during your time here: Cook stuff for 20 seconds more then the recipe says or it'll be undercooked, NEVER use the microwave (not hot-hot pockets are better then hot pockets that probably would give you radiation poisoning), and don't touch the stove while its on! Simple rules to follow, really!

You were trying to follow a recipe you found on magicam (and making necessary adjustments to fit your very slim budget... Asking someone for help obviously skipped your mind), though how well you were following it was up for debate...

... And before you knew it, the tart was done! It was of questionable quality, but nobody could tell that it might give you food poisoning from how it looked!! Now, to give it to Riddle...

And the second you entered Heartslabyul, you immediately saw just what happens when Riddle is very stressed... There wasn't one person without a heart-shaped collar around their neck. Not ONE PERSON.

You quickly made your way over to Riddle's dorm room, hoping and praying that you wouldn't suffer the fate of all these heartslabyul dorm students...

The second you entered Riddles dorm room to give him the tart, you had a magic pen pointed at you.

”WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO TRY TO ENTER MY ROOM WITHOUT PERMISSION-“ Riddle asked, before realizing it was you…

The magic pen lowered, but he was clearly still was annoyed with your sudden appearance.

”… I made you a tart…” You said, slightly fearful.

You quickly made your way over to him, handing him the tart.

”… Thank you…” He muttered, taking the tart.

You could only hope that calmed him down enough to have someone talk some sense into him, because no way you were doing that.

~ The End ~

#writing blog #twst #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader

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rowniebow · 1 year

Text

and they were roommates | peter parker x male!reader | 7/7

summary: closure.

pairings: tasm!peter parker x male!reader

cw: fluff :D

word count: 1.3k+

an: thank you for reading and all the support :') i appreciate all of you! u inspire me to be a better writer!

previous ⭒ masterlist

⭒

you had not seen peter since that night.

it has been five days and eighteen hours.

if anyone asked him, he'd say he'd regretted his actions. terribly so.

but no one knew. no one asked.

and if he had kissed anyone else, you'd have been the one to know. he would have ran straight to you to tell of the whole situation.

but he kissed you.

his best friend.

and now he didn't feel like he had a best friend.

now, it's not as if you ran away. no, you just avoided him to the point of changing your entire schedule.

you left an hour earlier and sat in your classroom in the dark, wondering what to do.

you came home late at night when you knew he'd be out participating in his nightly endeavors, going to a café to grade (or just hiding in your classroom still, it's your comfort place other than your shitty apartment with the man at home that you were avoiding).

you always made sure to be home before he got back from his activities, though. just in case he needed help.

but it's the weekend again.

and quite honestly, you miss him.

⭒⭒

you stumbled in your apartment, hands full of mail and paperwork you needed to do, as per usual.

an extravagant sigh that turned into a groan leaked from your throat as your stomach rumbled but the will to cook struggled to present itself.

peter watched you bump against the counter and curse yourself from the couch. his knees bounced with the debate of whether he should make himself known like he originally intended or not.

he was well aware of how you snuck around when you assumed him to be asleep and out of the house.

he woke at four in the morning every day the last week while you got ready for work and listened to you shuffle around.

guilt swelled in him when you jumped with a start after noticing him. staring at you from across the room.

"jesus, peter," your hand sat on top of your chest, willing for it to calm your heart.

"sorry,"

"what are you doing here?"

peter willed himself to smile, "not happy to see me?" the pain in his eyes and brow didn't pass the confidence act, though.

you chose to ignore his comment. mixed feelings were brought out from his presence. a lot of feelings you didn't want to admit you had.

instead you looked down at the sad eggs you had gotten out in your hand, "do you want anything to eat?"

your voice was quiet, shyer than he'd ever heard it. he seemed to be pulled further into the pit of guilt.

he made you quiet and shy around him, he thought. he did that. he ruined it.

"no, that's okay, thank you,"

the clattering of you pulling out pans was painful in the silence. it refused to let him form the words he had been going over all night.

peter would never tell you but he had been sitting there for two hours waiting for you to get home. just searching for the right words.

in that moment, words escaped him. the perfectly crafted sentence he had built fell apart on the ground like dominoes.

"w-we-," he choked when your eyes snapped to him. "we never finished twenty questions."

"no," you nearly whispered after another stabbing moment of silence. "i guess we didn't."

"it's your turn, if you want." peter tried to swallow, feeling more like a bread ball with nails hammered in from every angle was falling down his throat than saliva.

"i think i'll skip my turn,"

peter hated the formalities that were present between you two. "alright," he just wanted it all to go back to normal.

peter considered the way you hadn't used the eggs you pulled out at all. instead you were just eyeing them up and down while you listened to him.

"did you want to kiss me?" the words strangled the air, but you immediately looked up at him.

"yes. i said yes." you practically whispered, hesitantly.

peter found your eyes, and the sincerity in them lifted the suffocation he had been feeling the last week.

"why did you kiss me?"

"i-," peter was almost baffled by the question. he thought it was quite obvious.

although, your innocent ignorance to the emotions of people was something he understood very well about you. he could recall stories of your childish confusion easily.

"i like you," he couldn't hear your shaken sigh of relief over the sound of his pounding heart in his chest. "a lot."

your heart was beating just as fast as his, if not faster. but by the looks of you, peter would think you're almost disinterested in the conversation.

what he couldn't see in the dark, hardly lit, tiny, kitchen-living room combination, was your worried brows and your lip nearly bleeding from the biting. he couldn't see the way your jaw shook every few seconds and the tears that threatened your eyes.

you didn't handle stress well.

"do you regret it?" peter nearly blurted out.

"no!" your head shook, your brain banged against the sides of your skull with every movement. "no, no, not at all. d-do you?"

"no!" peter replied with similar enthusiasm. he hastily stood from the couch and stumbled his way into the kitchen before you.

he opened his mouth to speak, you assumed to take his turn in the game.

you, however, were just about done with the game.

"i like you, too," you interrupted. his agape mouth fell closed with a click of his teeth. his wide eyes glimmered a reflection of the city lights. "a lot."

"oh, that's-,"

"i-i, uhm. it's been a while for me, though,"

"me too," a smile pulled at peter's lips.

you're just always so cute, even when you rambled your worries like this. his posture dropped to slouch against the counter, gazing at your twitching fingers.

the comfort of being around you - being in his own skin - seeped back and leaked through his veins.

"right," you muttered, recollecting the stories he's told you from years ago. "i don't really know how to do this,"

"i don't either. we don't gotta know, though. we can do it our own way."

"okay," a sigh of relief left your lips. peter smiled brightly at you.

your sight spun looking at his smile. you wanted to rub it right off of his face.

he stepped towards you slowly, once again leaving room for you to escape if you wanted.

you very much didn't, though.

no, you stood waiting for him. practically inviting him in.

he arrived to his spot in front of you, merely an inch or two away. his hand slowly raised, hesitantly landing on your cheek.

the fridge over his shoulder proved to be more calming than him in that very moment. he watched your eyes and how they refused to meet his.

his smile only grew wider, though. at the thought of making you nervous in (hopefully) the good way.

"can i-," his whispers floated through the air to you.

they traveled along the hills and lakes of your skin.

they traveled through the forest of your hair.

they traveled towards the canyons of your ears.

and submerged themselves in the sea of your brain.

they swirled in that ocean and pushed and shoved at something that forced you to move before he could finish.

and your lips were on his once more. your eyes squeezed so tight that tears practically leaked through them, his words leaking out with them.

peter, baffled by you like always, breathed you in like a summer's night.

he was engulfed by you, whether you knew it or not. you absorbed him all of the time. you chewed him constantly and spit him out, only to chew him up again.

you were constantly abducting him with your eyes. you brought him in to your ship and ran tests on him. you dissected every fiber - every molecule - and put him back together again, better than before.

you healed him from the inside out.

you drove him to be better for you and for himself.

you inspired him to care again.

to be again.

you were his roommate, and he was yours, but now, you are something much more.

⭒ taglist ⭒

@armand0alg0 @cryinked @djmalik52 @fadedver @garlicforthewin @pinky-parker @softboi14 @1ischai

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