#ted returns home from work like

[sighonaraa]

the biggest and mayhaps only misstep ted lasso has ever made was not making ted and beard be roomies after going to england ALONE together. look me in the eyes and tell me they wouldn't want to be roomies

[m-ayo-o]

Ok well now you just HAVE to write Itadori and Megumi with Bunny reader

brain is all mushy now. this one is super gross !! mdni pls god 18+ Yuji + Megumi 21+ x bunny girl. somno- being woken up with oral + someone already inside. unprotected sex, breeding, multiple rounds, mentions of double vaginal penetration, lengthy description of creampie ! unrealistic. fiction. CONSCIOUS CONSENT is always required !!! + wrap b4 u tap ty ted talk over pt. one ⋆ hybrid fics

You slowly wake up from your lovely dreams of being filled by Yuji to a warm, wet sensation between your legs.

You suddenly feel so hot and your tummy is all full of arousal already, and you're only just peeking your eyes open.

"O-oh, oh-"

Your little voice alerts the two men that you're finally waking up, your eyelashes fluttering open to find...

"Megumi"

Oh, he's back, your gorgeous owner is home...with his face between your legs, humming contently now you're awake.

"Megumi, owner, y-you- you're home-! ah-"

"Yeah, bunny, I'm back I love you I missed you so much" he sighs into you with a glance up your squirming body, returning his tongue immediately to lap and suck an orgasm from you.

"Nhgg, nhh ahhh-"

You can't believe he's got you there already.

And it's then, with your pussy clenching up and squeezing juice everywhere, that you realise you're not empty.

Oh no, you're far from empty. In fact, you're stuffed so full with something (someone) so warm and thick that your little head starts to spin.

"Hhahh-" your pussy flutters over him, the intense pleasure blowing your mind already and you've only been awake two minutes.

You slam your hands down to ground yourself, seeking purchase on the sheets, but your fingers dig into something firm and hot.

"Oh, bunny! Don't be so rough with me!" you hear the cutest giggle from behind you, his hot chest muscles against your back, and you know who it is right away.

You can't find your voice for a few more seconds, until the waves of pleasure start to subside.

"Yu- Yuuuji !!!!"

"Yeah honey bunny?"

"m sorry-"

"Bunny I was kidding, you can do whatever you want to me, just promise you won't stop squeezing my cock ok?"

"nh nhhh promise"

"I could barely even pull out of you last night you felt so good, cutie, so I just waited for Megumi to get home so we could share you. I hope that's ok?"

"unn uuhh uhhhhhuuhh"

You let out delirious moans, feeling Yuji's hips wiggle, jerking his cock ever so slightly inside you, while Megumi just keeps going.

He works your little clit some more, taking you higher with each release, then Yuji gets impatient. You feel him start to thrust slowly, with your back in a deep arch and his hands on your waist.

Megumi kneels up at the end of the bed and watches you two, now he can clearly see how stretched you are from Yuji's fat cock.

You're taking him so well, he wonders if he could fit inside your cute pussy at the same time... he could just kneel on top of Yuji's muscly thighs and shove his dick in.

He watches in a daze, jerking and edging himself to the thought of Yuji's veiny cock pushing against his own, thinking about just how tight you'd feel, and he wonders if you could do it.

That may be pushing you too far, so the thought of it will have to do for now.

Yuji asks to switch, taking your body below his so you can see his gorgeous face and run your fingers through his fuzzy undercut. He proceeds to push you into the deepest mating press, making you whimper out affectionately when he kisses your lips.

"Baby bunny you're so tight like this, you know that?"

"hmmhhuum-"

"Yeah, aw you did? Does Megumi do this position with you too?"

You nod, with your ears flopping a little and your hands grabbing at the muscle of his shoulders.

"Mm, I bet Megumi loves it like this too, huh? Bet he loves filling your cute little pussy like this- shit- shit Gumi? Gumi can you show me, I, I wanna see?"

It's filthy but Yuji's too far gone to care. He needs to dump his thick load in you, then have his friend fill you up directly after.

"Please will you-ahh?"

"You want me to show you how I fuck my girl?"

"Yeahuhh uh huhh" he nods, getting more and more turned on with every thrust.

"Well you better finish up so I can take my turn. We can't both fit our dicks in there, can we?"

Fuck.

Yuji explodes at the thought of sharing you with Megumi. Of rubbing their wet cocks together, smearing your juice all over each other.

"Come on then, bunny," Megumi barely lets Yuji's cum trickle out of you before he's lining himself up, "let's get you filled up again and show him how we fuck"

It's hard to believe he's taking you in the same position, with his body pressed so hard on yours, his strength pinning you down and his teeth sinking into your neck.

"Oh fuck you do it so hard Megumi, that's mean, do you like that bunny, are you okay?"

"Yeah yeah Yuji it's - it's- ahh!!"

"Poor baby can't even tell him how good you feel, want me to slow down?"

"N-nhhuh no no no!!!!"

"You like it like this?"

Of course you do.

You're a little too fucked out to tell him exactly how you're feeling, but not so much that you can't start begging for his cum.

He knew you'd start this up at some point- you always do. When he fucks you for so long, for his own pleasure, you end up whining that he needs to hurry up and cum already.

You keep on begging, changing your usual tune slightly-

"Megumi, owner, Yuji's not inside me anymore," you cry, sounding so upset at the fact, "I want you both, ple-please I need it..."

"Hm," he hums into your neck, pausing his biting and kissing, "you want to suck him?"

"N-no- no- want him... inside with you," you sniffle and plead your owner understands.

You hear a groan from Yuji, who still recovering but slowly stroking his growing hard on.

"Baby, we won't fit. You've seen- felt how big he is."

Your owner is firm with this matter, telling you that it won't work and maybe next time you can try it if you behave really well.

So you sniffle and push aside your thoughts of Yuji and him filling you together, as if it wouldn't be the most satisfying pleasure in the world for such a needy bunny in heat.

But, at least you have both of their sweet loads inside you, with Megumi pressing a final hot kiss to your lips. He pushes himself so deep you can feel the heat of his creamy mess right near your cervix. He knows you won't get pregnant this time, but one day... he might just have to fulfil your insatiable natural desires.

He pulls out so slow- he knows you're filled up for now. He knows this look on your face oh so well. You've been completely taken care of, and this could be the end of your ridiculous horny heat behaviours.

But, when his dick is sliding out, his tip popping through your tight entrance, and he sees the gushing white liquid... his eyes cloud over again.

"Bunny-" his fingers find the cream now, spreading it over your lips and pushing it back inside.

Yuji hears how his friend is moaning and leans forward to look for himself.

"Oh, fuck, sweetie-" he's amazed at the amount of cum that's spilling from you right now and can't help but join his friend.

He extends his fingers- thicker and rougher than Megumi's- and they push in two digits each, spreading your hole nicely.

With the drag of their fingers and the lubrication of their thick loads, your body convulses with another orgasm.

But now you can see how they're looking at you, with their dicks hard and flushed again- Yuji's getting those thick and pulsing veins while Megumi's bends up with precum leaking at the tip again- you know they're not done with you.

And now, they're the ones begging for you.

"One more round, princess?"

"Is that okay, sweetie?"

yuji | megumi | m.list | pt. one

[ellecdc]

Come Back, Be Here (part 4)

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 6.2k words

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, hurt/comfort, fluff, banter, Walburga Black, use of Y/N

Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. Now, you're moving in to 12 Grimmauld Place.

The group watched as the row of townhomes groaned and stretched to expose 12 Grimmauld place in all her glory. Sirius was certain he could hear his mother and father rolling in their graves to know that he – their disinherited blood-traitor son – was the last Black and official heir once again to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. He grimaced at the title. 

“Two disgraced Black’s returning to the scene of the crime.” Ted Tonks joked, both Sirius and Andromeda gave him a look. 

“Feels like the beginning of a bad, racist joke.” James mused.

Sirius groaned in response. “What happens when three blood-traitors, three muggle-borns and one half-blood half-breed walk into a bar?” 

“Get drunk, I hope.” Lily muttered miserably. 

“Well, Sirius, welcome home.” Andromeda announced as she made her way up the stairs to the front door. Sirius pushed the door open and stepped inside a house he hadn’t stepped foot into since he was sixteen years old. He had been so sure at that time that he’d never return; he wished he had been right. 

The house was just as dark and gloomy as it had been when he left it, but it was now also covered in a thick layer of dust.

“Okay, please, for the love of all that is holy: Lily, Y/N, Remus, Ted: you are to touch nothing until Andromeda, James or I have checked it first.” Sirius said before pausing, “Scratch that. Touch nothing until Andromeda or I have checked it – okay?”

This earned him an indignant ‘hey!’ from James and a quick agreement from everyone else. 

“YOU DISGRACEFUL, WRETCHED BOY!” Sirius’s face drained of all colour at the all-too-familiar sound of his mother’s screeching.

“That old hag is supposed to be dead!” He shouted as he and Andromeda ran up the stairs following the sound of his foul-mouthed mother.

“HOW DARE YOU STEP FOOT INTO THIS MOST NOBLE AND ANCIENT HOUSE, YOU FLITHY BLOOD TRAITOR!” the screeching continued.

The source of the chaos came from none other than an awful magical portrait of the very late Walburga Black, Sirius’ mother and Andromeda’s aunt.

“Oh, thank Godric, she is dead.” Sirius sighed in relief, though he wasn’t sure what he was going to do about the very unwelcome company haunting this house.

“Maybe we can remove it?” Andromeda mused as she tried to pull the portrait from the wall. 

“GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF OF ME; SULLYING YOURSELF WITH THE LIKES OF MUDBLOODS YOU TRAITOROUS WHORE.”

“Charming as always, Aunt Walburga.” She muttered when her pulling was for naught. 

Sirius attempted a silencio which seemed to work for at least a little as Walburga’s face contorted with rage and she continued spewing what Sirius could only assume was foul hatred for all things not Voldemort related. 

“Okay so that will last like, not long enough at all. Merlin, I wish we could just burn this place down with her in it.” He muttered as they made their way back downstairs. Ted and James were cooing over a crying Harry who must have been upset at the screeching of the house’s previous occupant, while Remus and Lily muttered quietly to each other. You leaned against the wall with your arms crossed, appearing bored for all intents and purposes, but Sirius could tell you were straining your neck to peer into the rooms you could see from your post. 

“Okay, semi-false alarm. Walburga is indeed still dead.” Sirius stated which was met with a cheer from James causing Harry to clap in comradery.  

“However, she has cursed us with a magical portrait of herself stuck on the wall with a permanent sticking charm.” He finished, causing James to groan and Harry to start crying again. 

“Okay, so, ignoring the unpleasant company for now, where do we start?” Lily interrupted. 

“First of all, Red, as I said you will not be starting anywhere.” Sirius rallied. 

“Sirius, this place is huge, and we need to clear a space for six of us to sleep tonight.” She countered, but the argument was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. 

Everyone exchanged nervous glances. “Literally, no one should know we’re here.” James muttered. 

“It could be Moody?” Remus offered nervously. 

“Should Kreacher answer the door, Master.” A crotchety old voice sneered from behind him, causing Sirius to yelp and jump what felt like a foot in the air. 

“Merlin’s tits.” James muttered as Harry started shrieking again. 

“Godric, I’ve never seen you not hanging off my mother’s bosom; I sort of hoped you had died with her.” He muttered, rubbing his chest trying to convince his heart to return to a normal pace.

“Sirius.” You scolded from your place against the wall. 

“Kreacher lives to serve the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, even if it’s occupants are filthy blood-traitors and their mud-bloods.” The ancient house-elf muttered. 

“New management, new rule Kreacher, no more mud-blood talk.” Sirius barked.

“Yes, Master.” The elf sneered before heading toward the door. Sirius quickly pulled you and Lily, who was now holding a sniffling Harry, behind him much to the chagrin of the two women. 

“Master, the wizard tells Kreacher that he’s a curse breaker sent by a Moody.” The elf mumbles over his shoulder. 

Sirius relinquished his hold on the two witches and allowed the man entry. 

Sirius reiterated to the curse breaker that Lily, Remus, you, and Ted were not to touch anything in any room until the curse breaker, Sirius or Andromeda cleared it first. The curse breaker showed James, Andromeda, and Sirius a few detection spells and a few simple reversal charms before they set off to different levels of the house; Sirius and Andromeda decided to focus on the bedrooms and bathrooms whilst the curse break started in the shared living spaces on the first floor, and James went to the kitchen with Kreacher. 

Sirius felt like he was making decent progress. He and Andromeda had cleared out three bedrooms and two bathrooms between the second and third floors, and he had worked up a decent sweat. He had two boxes of dark artifacts to be either destroyed, uncursed or donated. The screeching had started back up in earnest again when the silencio wore off an hour after casting. 

“You miserable hag.” Sirius muttered as he marched over to his mother’s portrait to recast the spell. Once the ringing in his ears stopped, he heard another shriek and a bang.

“Y/N!” Lily could be heard shouting, and Sirius bolted down the stairs. He arrived in the parlour at the same time as Remus and James. 

“What happened?” Remus demanded. 

“She touched a book!” Lily tattled. 

“I’m fine.” You muttered as you sat up and cradled your right wrist. 

Sirius sighed, fear melting into frustration which quickly melted into fondness. “You sneaky little witch.” He muttered as he moved to crouch beside you. “Let me see.”

“No.” You pouted. 

“Y/N.” 

“No. I’m fine.” 

“Let me see your hand.”

“Bugger off.” 

“You minx.” 

Sirius sat there biting his cheek trying to suppress a grin at the sight of you sitting petulantly feeling embarrassed being caught having done something naughty. 

“What did I say?” Sirius scolded.

You muttered something under your breath.

“What was that?” He smirked, leaning his ear closer to you for dramatic effect. 

“Not to touch anything.”

“Uh huh. And what did you do?” 

“I touched something.” 

Sirius was full on beaming at you now. 

“Thought so, let me see.” 

You let out an indignant huff and held your wrist out to Sirius, who despite his crassness, took it so unbelievably gently in his own hands. It appeared that you had touched something that was cursed with a knock-back jinx, which twisted your wrist violently on impact. It could have been worse, small mercies. 

“Dollface, I could have gotten you a book if you were bored.” Sirius commented as he reduced the swelling with a quick flick of his wand and placed a glacius charm to help with any more inflammation. 

“Don’t tease me.” You whispered miserably, and Sirius looked up to see that your eyes were glassy. 

“Are the tears because you’re hurt, because you’re scared, or because you’re embarrassed?” Sirius whispered back. Your eyes met his and a single tear fell. He lifted his hand which was met with a mild flinch before he gently wiped it away with his thumb. 

“I’m not teasing, love. And you don’t have to be embarrassed; if it hadn’t been you, it would have been Moony.” Which was met with an indignant ‘Oi!’ from the werewolf who had moved down the hall in an attempt to give them privacy. “You also don’t have to be scared. Alright?”

You held his gaze before nodding with a sniff. He massaged your wrist and hand gently, recasting a glacius over the injury. 

“Did I teach you this?” You asked quietly, causing Sirius’ head to shoot up from its lowered position.

“Do you remember?” He asked unbelievingly. 

You moved your head back-and-forth as if to say so-so. “I remember...uhm-”

He waited with bated breath watching your face as you organized your thoughts.

“Bludgers. The smell of cigarettes and broom wax. And a broken wrist.” 

Sirius was sure he heard angels singing. Her first memory is resurfacing. And it’s when I broke my wrist playing quidditch at Potter manor.

“It was you, wasn’t it? Who broke their wrist?” You clarified. 

Sirius nodded dumbly. “Yes.” He croaked. 

“I think you got hurt often.”

Sirius chuckled, “Yes, I certainly did.” 

“That must have been exciting.” You mused. 

“I’m sure I was exhausting.” He countered as he continued massaging your arm. He could probably stop now, but he really didn’t want to. 

“Please; you got hurt because you were playing quidditch, I got hurt because I touched a book after I was specifically told not to touch anything.” 

Sirius barked a laugh. “Oh, come now. It’s my fault really; I should have known better than to try to tell you what to do.” 

You both sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments; Sirius continuing to work out tension in your arm. 

“Which book was it?” He asked you finally. He seemed to catch you off guard, as you looked at him inquisitively. “Which book were you trying to read?”

You blushed but stood up and pointed to the offending book. Secrets of the Darkest Art. 

“All this fuss over a book, babe?” he smirked at you as your blush intensified. He cast a quick counter curse over it like the curse breaker taught him and handed you the book. 

“Now please, for the love of Merlin, don’t touch anything else?” He asked with a smile which was met with a shy smile of your own.

“Thanks, Siri.” You mumbled. His heart soared at your use of his old nickname, and before he even realized what he was doing, he bent down and placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“Read up, my little swot. I think I heard Kreacher muttering about making dinner. Hopefully it’s not poisoned.” He said as he exited the room. 

Turns out, dinner was not poisoned, and it was actually quite good. They all thanked Kreacher even though the elf acted as if the simple act of feeding them would be the thing to damn him straight to hell. The Tonks’ were quite eager to leave after the fourth rousing of Walburga and left before the dinner was served. Andromeda and Sirius had managed to de-dark-art-ify all the bedrooms on the second and third floor plus the bathrooms. They opted to leave his parents room, and his and Regulus’ rooms untouched. As much as they teased poor James, he accomplished quite a lot in the kitchen and main living room, while the curse breaker focused on the hallways and various parlour rooms on the main floor. Lily mentioned that she wouldn’t mind brightening the place up if Sirius was open to some redecorating – to which he responded with a quick “If it were up to me, Red, this place would be in flames by now”, so she advised she’d make some plans tomorrow. You and Remus fussed over Harry to save Kreacher from anymore toddler ear yanks, but if the house-elf was grateful for the interference, he didn’t show it. A message arrived stating that the cottage in Godric’s Hollow appeared to be secure; Lily looked like she wanted to cry at the prospect of being reunited with her things. 

Remus said goodbye to everyone after dinner, stating he couldn’t leave the flat unattended since Sirius appears to be willing to neglect it for the next foreseeable future, which was met with a two-finger salute from Sirius and boos from James which were then chorused by Harry. 

“It’s meant to be a slumber party, Moony. Just like the old days.” James whined, which sucked the air out of the room; it suddenly became very obvious to Sirius, James, Lily, and Remus that they had been betrayed by their closest friend, who was possibly responsible for the death of some of their other friends. 

“Pads, we can’t keep paying for a flat that no one is using.” Remus argued.

“Uhm, I can, and I will, thank you very much. What’s the point of inheriting all of my family’s dirty money if I can’t waste it on whatever I want?” 

Remus sighed, “Fine. I’m going home tonight, though. I can’t leave the cat and the plants.”

“You’re such a good daddy.” Lily smirked from the end of the table. 

“Shush, you.” Remus said as he ruffled her hair before smoothing it out and kissing the top of her head. He moved to Harry and placed a kiss there too, before James stuck his head up as if he, too, was waiting for a kiss. Remus rolled his eyes before pecking both James and Sirius on the head and pausing at you. 

“What? No kiss for me, Moony?” You smirked and teasingly batted your eyelashes at him. Remus laughed and placed a kiss on your head before waving and promising everyone he’d be back tomorrow, cat and plants in tow. 

Much to Kreacher’s chagrin, Sirius and James insisted on cleaning up the kitchen themselves which got a “filthy blood-traitor’s” being cursed at them. He then announced he’d be going to the house in Godric’s Hollow to retrieve their belongings – surprising James and Sirius into silence. 

Lily and James took the farthest room on the second floor, it was the largest which left plenty of room for a crib for Harry, and it had their own washroom. Sirius held the bags containing your things and watched as you inspected the other rooms, allowing you to choose next.

“Which room do you suppose Remus would like?” You asked him.

“Vix, it doesn’t matter. You choose.”

“If he has plants, maybe this room? It would get nice light in the evenings; I don’t think he’d appreciate the morning light.” You mused as if he hadn’t said anything at all. 

Sirius couldn’t even celebrate the fact that you seemed to correctly remember something about Remus before he nagged you. “Y/N, for the love of Merlin, pick a room.” 

“Well, which room are you taking?”

Sirius paused. “What?”

“Which room will you take?” 

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck. “I have my old room upstairs. I was just going to stay there.” 

You paused. “You aren’t going to stay down here? With us?” The ‘with me?’ was unspoken but Sirius heard it anyway. 

“Oh, right. No, of course. Erm.” He looked at the three rooms. It appeared you had already decided the middle room was Remus’ – what with the sunlight for the cat or the plants or the sleeping or what-not. There were two other rooms kiddie-corner to each other. The one at the end of the hall was the largest of the two, and had windows on two walls, versus just the one wall containing windows in the other room. 

“I think I’ll take this one.” He said, motioning to the smaller room. It was directly across the hall from the washroom, which was beside the last room – your room – which meant he would be close by. 

“Okay.” You nodded, looking into the room you essentially forced Sirius into picking for you. “I’ll take this one then.” You smiled at him as if you chose it for yourself.

“Good choice, gorgeous.” He said as he placed your bags on the four-poster bed in the middle of the room. “Can’t wait to see what Lil’s comes up with for this place – all the Slytherin green needs to go.” 

You hummed and looked around the dark room. “I don’t know, the snakes and skulls are really warm and inviting, Sirius. Don’t fix what ain’t broken.” You finished the sentence in a poorly done southern American accent.

The two of you quipped back and forth about the décor in various accents as you unpacked your bags. Sirius found the scene to unbelievably domestic and lovely, basking in the effervescent glow that was your company until you both retired for bed.

Sirius pushed the door open as quietly as he could and stole a glance at you; your breathing was even as you slept curled up in the fetal position on the bed where he’d left you several hours ago. 

With a sigh, Sirius made his way down the stairs to the large parlour room – not coincidentally the one he knew had his late father’s liquor stored in an antique bar cart. He knew he shouldn’t – James and Lily fussed over him for months after you went missing, watching him spiral into himself as he tried to drink away his issues. He had to work hard not to end up completely dependent on alcohol – and it still wasn’t enough for him to stay in his supervisor’s good graces. 

“You’re a good Auror, Sirius, and a mighty strong wizard – but this is getting out of control, and I cannot allow you to continue putting the rest of my staff at risk.” Moody had told him, and he was placed on a medical leave until James could confirm to Moody that he had gone a full four weeks without a drink. 

Sirius sat with a crystal glass of fire whiskey and cast a quick incendio to light the fireplace. I feel like the ghost of my father he thought darkly. The Black’s were all basically carbon copies of each other – the only difference between the two Black sons and Walburga was that they had their father’s silver eyes. If Kreacher walked in now, he’d probably think he was looking at a down-and-out younger Orion Black, if Orion Black ever wore checkered pyjama pants and a band tee. 

The fire whiskey was leaving a comfortable warmth in his stomach and esophagus as he leaned his head back against the chair. He felt so incredibly guilty. 

Guilty for trusting Peter. Guilty for ever thinking the spy could be anyone but him. Guilty for believing you to be dead all of this time – when he could have been looking for you, should have been looking for you. Guilty to shouting your business in front of your friends. Guilty for ever introducing Peter to you. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

His musings were interrupted by a gentle knock on the parlour room doorframe. His eyes shot open, and he pointed his wand toward the disturbance, only to find the silhouette of you donned in pyjama shorts and a pullover jumper. He sighed in relief and unceremoniously tossed his wand back onto the side table. 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” You offered quietly. 

“No worries, love. I think everyone’s a touch jumpy these days.” He muttered, taking another sip from his glass. 

You surveyed him from the door for a few moments before moving to sit in the matching wingback chair beside him, separated by only a small table. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” You asked.

Sirius hummed, “Not well. Not for the last five months. Maybe longer.”

You nodded in agreement as you watched the flames dance in the fireplace. You hadn’t seen Sirius like this – not since you’ve been back, at least – but something about this mood of his felt familiar to you.

“Are you alright?” 

Sirius laughed humourlessly. “The captive of an evil terrorist organization is asking me if I am okay because I happened to have my feelings hurt?” 

He looked over at you, expecting to find signs of frustration or annoyance at his flippancy and obvious deflection. But - like he should have expected - all he saw was patience and understanding, and it broke him. 

He hiccupped loudly and put his elbows on his knees, holding his face in his hands. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered miserably. 

“What is it you’re apologizing for?” You asked quietly. 

“For losing you. For allowing it to happen. For introducing you to Pete. For trusting him with any of you. For believing you were dead. For feeling at all sorry for myself because I simply missed you whilst you were out there fighting for your fucking life. For telling you any of this.” He moaned.

You chuckled softly. “You do realize you’re apologizing on behalf of a lot of other people right now, right?” 

Sirius raised his head to look at you.

“Don’t let them off the hook that easily.” You added seriously.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re apologizing for the way Peter treated me as if it was your fault – by doing so, you’re relieving him of an awful lot of responsibility.” You stated simply. Sirius watched the flames dance in your eyes as you watched the fire. 

“You believed me to be dead, and you mourned me – that’s not a punishable offence, Sirius. In fact, I think I’d likely be miffed if you hadn’t seemed affected at all.”

Sirius smirked at that.

“And finally, you don’t need to apologize for telling me things when I was the one who asked you to.” 

Sirius shook his head. “I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” He muttered. 

“You can do that tomorrow.” You stated plainly with a shrug. 

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” 

You sat in companionable silence as you both watched the fire. It wasn’t often Sirius found himself to be comfortable with silence and empty moments. Silence growing up always meant room for scrutiny – or it was due to his parents ignoring him to teach him a lesson. But it had always been so, incredibly refreshing with you. He always felt safe with you when neither of you felt the need to say anything at all, and just exist together in silence. 

“At the meeting, you asked me if we were just friends before.” Sirius asked quietly. He continued when you hummed in acknowledgement. “Is that because you remembered?”

You considered his question for a moment. “Perhaps a bit. I don’t necessarily remember the moments or conversations, but I think a part of me remembers the feelings.” 

Sirius hummed. “And the other bit?” He prodded as he turned to look at you. You smirked in response.

“Well, you’re not exactly subtle, love.” You winked at him. 

Sirius barked a laugh. “No, I don’t think subtlety is a trait I possess.” He agreed. 

“Lucky me.” 

He stared at you for a long while.

“I don’t know how good at it I was.” He admitted. 

“At what?”

“At loving you.”

You both let that hang in the air as you held each other’s gaze. 

“But it was the best thing about me – getting to love you; being loved by you.” He added. 

“That’s what woke me up.” 

Sirius furrowed his brows. “Hm?” 

You turned your gaze back to the fire. 

“In my dream – or I suppose it was a memory. You and I were fighting; I accused you of only loving yourself. You laughed before you said ‘Actually, Princess, I hate myself. The only person worth love here is you.’”. 

Sirius remembered that fight. It was after you had finally started talking to him again after the Worst Day of His Life™. You both decided to hash out exactly what happened that night with the stupid eyelash batting Hufflepuff that ended with you sleeping in Lily and Remus’ embrace after they had to clean up his mess. 

(The boys dormitory, Hogwarts)

“It doesn’t matter, Sirius. What happened, happened, and it’s in the past.”

“It does matter though, because it hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, it doesn’t matter; I’m over it and it clearly meant nothing to you.” 

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Decide what means something to me.” 

“I didn’t, Sirius. You did. That night – you decided what I meant to you, which apparently wasn't much. It’s fine, you’re allowed to sleep with whoever you want. The relationship clearly meant more to me than it did to you – that was my mistake.” 

“You weren’t mistaken!” 

“Then why wasn’t it me!?” You finally shouted at him, tears begging to fall from your lower lash line. 

Sirius didn’t have an answer for that. You scoffed at his lack of response and wiped angrily at your face. 

“I don’t know why we’re even doing this.” 

“Because it’s important.”

“It’s not important. It’s history. I’m over it.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t say you’re over it.” The ‘over me’ in Sirius’ plea was left unsaid.

“Well, I’m not going to lie to you, Sirius.”

“I just want things to go back to the way they were before. What can I do to fix this?” 

“There’s nothing to fix, Sirius.”

“Bullshit.” 

You stayed quiet.

“So, what? Am I not worth it then? Am I not worth fighting for?” He accused. Your eyes narrowed at him.

“Sirius, that’s not fair.”

“You’re not giving me anything else to go off here!” 

“What about me!?” You shouted. “I need to look after myself for a change, Sirius. Because what all of this has taught me is that the only person you’re truly able to love is yourself.”

Sirius couldn’t help himself. He began to laugh; a real, loud belly laugh that began to hurt his sides. 

“What the fuck is so funny?” 

“You’re so far from the mark you can’t even see it anymore.” He laughed as he collected himself. “You couldn’t be more wrong. In fact, Princess, I hate myself. The only person worth love here is you.”

(present)

Sirius sighed. “Why couldn’t your first memory of me be me doing something awesome; like the time I caught you when you fell off your broom or something.” 

You laughed. “I had bruises from your death grip after that fall for weeks. And you were so annoying – you would hardly let me walk down the hallway without your constant supervision.” 

You both seemed startled at your recounting the memory, but neither commented on it.

“Well excuse me, love. What makes you think I should trust you on the moving staircases with your nose shoved into a book if you couldn’t even handle a simple flight session on a school broom a mere twenty feet off the ground, 

“Oh please, I didn’t have my nose shoved into a book.”

“You did too.” 

“And I was definitely at least fifty feet off the ground – probably more.”

“Nope, wrong again.”

“Stop gaslighting me.”

“Must be exhausting being wrong all the time.” 

“You son of a bitch.” 

The two of you laughed; the familiarity of the banter and joking felt like a warm hug for you both. You fell into a companionable silence until the crackling of the fire was interrupted by a yawn you tried unsuccessfully to suppress. 

“Come on, love. Let’s get you back to bed.” Sirius said as he stood, standing in front of you and offering you his hand. 

You jokingly whined but allowed yourself to be pulled up by the black-haired man. 

“You look like a hockey player” You blurted as you walked hand-in-hand up the stairs. 

“Pardon me?” Sirius asked incredulously. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, and he relished in the feeling. “The hair cut – it’s like a hockey player’s; they call it a ‘flow’.” 

“A flow?” He smirked. 

“Mhm.” 

“Do you like it?” He asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Love it.” You offered immediately as if it was the most obvious answer. 

You paused at your respective bedroom doors, neither seemingly wanting to part ways. Well, Sirius knew he didn’t, and he assumed the tightening of your hold on his hand meant that you felt the same. 

He wanted to hold you. He wanted to wrap you up in bed and stay there with you until the world ended. He wanted your hands to be fused together so that he’d never have to be without you by his side ever again. But he also didn’t want to push you; this was your call – he would let you choose; always. 

“I don’t want to be alone.” You admitted quietly, almost as if you were embarrassed by the admission. 

Sirius gave your hand three quick squeezes – a code the two of you had made when you realized that Sirius sometimes struggled to express his feelings verbally. 

“Three taps or squeezes means ‘I love you.’” You had said to him simply.

“Babe, every breath I take means ‘I love you.’” He countered before placing a searing kiss to your lips. 

“Funny, that. Neither do I.” He replied.

“Stay with me?” You asked him, eyes shyly meeting his.

“I’d love nothing more.” He said, as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Come on, love. Let’s try to get some sleep.” 

James had tossed and turned all night, waking up in cold sweats. He had been eager each time to change Harry’s diaper or do a feeding, bouncing him a little longer than strictly necessary just to avoid having to be alone with his own thoughts again. But by the third time he woke Lily up in a panic, she’d kicked him out of the room.

“Potter, I love you, but if you don’t fuck off right now, I’m going to live the rest of my life as a widow.” And with that, he was banished from their bedroom. 

He padded his way down the hallway, poking his head into the other doors. The room in the middle of the hallways was vacant; probably Moony’s he mused. The next room was also empty, but the sheets were disturbed as if someone had been sleeping in here, but also couldn’t sleep. 

He poked his head into the last room and spotted two figures curled up in the bed, holding onto each other as if one of them could float away at any moment. 

There was a voice in James’ head that told him he should leave them; they were likely having just as hard a time sleeping as he was. Also, it’d be weird to join them. However, there was a louder voice in James’ head that was screaming to climb into bed with them; so that’s the one he listened to. James had never been very good with boundaries. 

He crawled onto the other side of Sirius and slid under the covers. 

“Are you serious right now?” He heard his mate mutter groggily. 

James smirked as he curled up behind him. “No, you’re Sirius.” 

Sirius groaned. “Five points from Gryffindor for the terrible joke that only I’m allowed to make, and another five points for touching me with your cold ass feet.” But he didn’t tell James to leave, so he took that as a win.

“How’s she?” He asked quietly. 

“So good, considering.” Sirius answered.

“I can’t believe him...” James started quietly, but he needn’t finish; they both knew who he was talking about.

Sirius took a deep breath. “I feel, guilty. Bad. Y/N says I shouldn’t.”

“Of course she would, she’s perfect.” James offered easily. 

Sirius smiled into the top of your sleeping head. “She is.” He agreed.

“I can’t believe she survived, all that time.”

The two men sat, marvelling at your perseverance. “I’m dying to know who her allies were.”

Sirius hummed. “Me too. I don’t know how to feel about them yet.”

James nodded. “That’s okay, I don’t much know how to feel about a lot of things.”

Sirius snorted and then tensed, worried about waking you, but your breath remained even. 

“Do you blame me?”

Sirius eyes flew open at that.

“Pardon?”

James sighed before repeating himself. “Do you blame me, for Pete?”

“What about him.”

“Well, I’ve been wondering, would you and Remus ever had made friends with him had I not dragged him along with us?”

Sirius laughed. “Okay, if it were left up to Remus, no one would have ever talked to him ever and he would’ve made exactly zero friends, so I don’t think you’re asking the right questions.”

“Pads...”

“No. Of course not.” Sirius stated. James remained quiet and tense behind him. 

“I think Peter made a choice. He made a lot of choices, but he made a choice.” He said as he thought of your earlier words. Don’t let him off the hook that easily. “He has a lot to atone for.”

He could feel James nod and they sat in silence for some time, watching the lights move from the street below them.

Sirius was pretty well asleep when James spoke up again. 

“So, are you guys like, back together?”

Sirius scrunched his face. “What in the hells are you talking about?”

“You and Vix? Does this mean mom and dad are back together again?” 

“James, she doesn’t remember me.”

“Well that just can’t be true.” James argued.

“Why’s that?”

“No one who doesn’t know you would let you sleep in their bed, Pads. You look like a bad idea.”

Sirius groaned. “She remembers some things.”

“Nice! Anything about me?” James asked excitedly. 

“Yes.” You muttered sleepily. “I remember that you’re unbearably annoying.” 

Sirius beamed and pressed a kiss to your hair. 

Lily began to redecorate, though she muttered unhappily the entire time about not being able to run to the shops. Every wall was painted white, causing each space to look far brighter and bigger than it had before. James took down every framed piece of art and gave it to Harry and Sirius to paint over – what were once paintings full of dark objects and pureblood legacy were now Gryffindor logos, the Hogwarts castle, a golden snitch, owls, self-portraits, or, in Harry’s case, a big truck. (If you close your eyes, you can absolutely see it). 

Sirius insisted the house was still chock full of “bad vibes”, but everyone else already felt less suppressed. 

Your memories were slowly returning to you, and much to everyone’s chagrin and to his absolute delight, Remus seemed to be the first of your friends you completely unravelled. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” James cried.

“I’ve never been so offended in my life.” Sirius muttered.

Lily refused to speak on the matter...but she also (playfully) refused to speak a word to you at all.

“I mean, really, what’s Moons got that I don’t?” Sirius whined as he watched the golden coloured orb on your scan get accessed by the travelling lights without incident. 

“Class, obviously.” Remus claimed haughtily.

“Oh, I’ll show you class.” Sirius barked before launching himself at Remus who was sitting in an armchair with a book in his hand. 

The two boys men struggled with each other, Remus never leaving the armchair nor dropping his book, before Sirius began whining.

“Say it.” Remus said with a smirk.

“Moony!”

“Say it.”

“Uncle! Uncle!” Sirius cried and Remus released his hold on his arm. 

“Real classy boys.” Lily said with a roll of her eyes. 

It had been about a week since Vix had been home and it was about a week until the next full, so Remus could not figure out why he felt so itchy. 

“Maybe you’ve got fleas.” James offered as he shoved roast potatoes in his mouth.

“I don’t have fleas, you sod.” Remus muttered.

“No, that’s usually a Padfoot problem.” Lily chortled

Sirius elicited a dramatic gasp and held his hand to his chest.

“I have never once in my life had flea’s you hag.”

“Don’t call my wife a hag!”

“Then tell her not to act like one!”

“Can we not do this at the dinner table?” You moaned with a roll of your eyes. Both men stopped the antics and looked down at their plates, shame faced. 

“Sorry mum.” They chorused. 

You smirked and looked over to Remus, who still looked unsettled. “It’s not usual for you to get like this, this far from the moon.” You commented.

“No.” Remus muttered miserably. “I don’t know, something just feels off.” 

“Our world has been flipped upside down multiple times this week. I think it will take some time for us to get our bearings again.” Lily admitted.

The adults nodded in agreement; Harry shook his head violently. 

“No? You don’t think so Haz?” James asked his son.

“No!” Harry squealed happily, lifting a handful of crushed roast potatoes in his hand.

“Don’t mind him. That’s his favourite word right now.” Lily explained. 

“Is miss finished?” Kreacher’s voice appeared beside you, causing you to jump in your seat.

“Oh!” You breathed, holding a hand to your chest. “Uhm, yes. Kreacher, thank you.”

The house-elf grunted and took your plate to the sink, before returning and pulling your chair out for you. James and Sirius shared a look at the odd behaviour.

“What are you doing, Kreacher?” Sirius asked.

You looked just as confused as Kreacher helped you stand.

“Kreacher has been asked to retrieve the mudblood.” He said plainly, and with a snap of his fingers, the two of you were gone. 

Continue to part five here.

[axelsagewrites]

Jamie Tartt*Famous

Pairing: Jamie x reader

Word count: 1841

Warnings: mentions of football related hate but nothing graphic, angst/breakup but everything’s happy by the end

Masterlist Here

Dating a famous footballer was not exactly something you’d ever planned on. You were never into football especially when you saw what it could cause. You remember being five years old crawled up crying as your relatives gathered round the television shouting and swearing because their team missed the penalty. Then you got older and found out the even worse things some men did because of a missed kick.

But somehow you ended up dating ‘the’ Jamie Tartt. Though you didn’t even know who he was when you met him. He was just a boy, and you were just a girl both sitting alone in a bar. Jamie had been nursing a pint for an hour when you came in and his jaw about dropped. However, he’d sworn to himself when ted told him last night, he could come back to Richmond he’d fix his act so he didn’t pounce like he usually would.

“Can I get a vodka lemonade please?” He heard you from across the bar and he could practically hear the sweetness in your voice.

The bar however gradually got busier and when Jamie returned from the bathroom, he realised there was only one seat left and it was next to you. “d’you mind if I sit? Just someone stole my seat,” he asked, suddenly realising how nervous he was for no reason.

You turned around and smiled at him before nodding to the seat, “Yeah sure. It’s pretty busy,”

“Tell me about it. Hate crowds sometimes. Make my head feel all fuzzy,” he smiled at the way you giggled not even caring if you were laughing at him. “Watcha want?” He asked after ordering his own drink and you hesitated for a moment, “Cmon, no strings or nothing. Just a drink. Vodka lemonade maybe?”

You laughed lightly and nodded, turning to the lady, “Yeah one of them please,” you turned back to Jamie as she worked on your drinks. “Its nice to meet you…” you said, words trailing off till Jamie finally realised you were asking his name.

“Jamie,” he said, sticking his hand out for what turned into a half awkward half laughy handshake that then turned into you both chatting till last call and Jamie walking you home.

-

Somehow his job hadn’t came up. It was partially because you had made a joke about hating football on your second date but also because Jamie was enjoying the normalcy of it all. Even if it meant when he spotted a paparazzi, he would very suddenly drag you away to a random shop or restaurant, putting up his hoodie to ruin their shot.

However eventually he had to tell you. He hadn’t put his hood up quick enough and their plastered on a magazine was Jamie holding your hand walking through London. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, staring at yourself on the magazine in shock.

“You never asked?” He offered with a sorry smile, “I wanted to love but I just,” he sighed, “I didn’t want you to judge me or that. Cause I really like you,” he reached out to take your hand as you both sat on your couch.

You gave him a small smile, stroking your thumb over his hand, “So is this something that happens all the time? Pap’s following us around? Do people come up to you in the street and stuff?”

“Sometimes,” he shrugged since to Jamie this was just life, but he didn’t know at this point what was normal, “I mean like they’re pretty easy to ignore most the time,”

“Its just weird. I mean I’m on a magazine,” you said, eyes wide as you gestured to the glossy paper, “I never thought I’d end up being just some WAG,”

Jamie scoffed, “Babe you’re way more than a WAG,” he said as he put an arm around your shoulder, “You’re my girl. That is if you’ll still have me?”

“Of course, I will Jamie. It’ll just take me some time to get used to,”

-

However now the press knew you existed the paparazzi weren’t exactly easy to ignore. It was one thing being followed around with Jamie but one of them was waiting outside your work last week asking if you were another fling or if the pregnancy rumours were true. His comments sent you into a complete spiral with Jamie coming over to try comfort you.

 “He was just rude Jamie,” you sniffled into his chest.

“I know baby,” he tried to comfort you as he stroked your back, “It’ll be okay. You get used to it really and they’re not all that bad. Promise,” he said as he kissed the top of your head.

“I just wish,” you sighed, “that you’d told me in the first place,”

“What difference would it have made?” Jamie asked however your lack of response made him worry as he pulled back to look at your face, “Would you have said no? When I asked you to be my girlfriend. Would you have said no if you knew?”

You opened your mouth to speak but you struggled to get the words out. “I don’t know,” you managed to choke out, “I just don’t know if I can deal with this. I’m not good with attention let alone paparazzi following me. I never asked for any of this Jamie,” you began to ramble. “I like you I really do. But it’s a lot, okay?”

Jamie sighed however he almost cried when you pulled yourself out of his arms, “I like you too, but football is my job. It’s my life,”

“And I would never want you to give that up,” you said instantly, reaching for his hand, “Maybe we should just take a break? That way I can I don’t ease into it? Or like I don’t know just wrap my head around it,”

Jamie felt himself freeze in his seat. He nodded slowly before standing up, “Okay if that’s what you need,”

“I’m sorry Jamie. I really am,” you said, standing to follow him as he headed for the doors.

Jamie nodded once more as he reached for the handle, “Its not your fault. I should’ve told ya,”

“Jamie,” you said but he’d already opened the door. “We aren’t over its just…”

“Just a break,” he said, nodding his confirmation before walking out the door but you felt your heart shatter as the door shut.

-

Even though the paparazzi had stopped, and two weeks had gone by you still felt absolutely awful. You hadn’t seen Jamie in real life but suddenly you were seeing him on the news and his name on the back of kid’s jerseys. You began to wonder if it was for the best but every reminder of him stung.

Neither one of you had texted the other. You’d not heard from him at all since you left. Until yesterday when you got an email confirmation from Richmond fc with a ticket reserve confirmation in the buyer’s box under the name Tartt. The game was tomorrow, and you spent the whole day and yesterday debating if you would go. Eventually you decided not to.

-

However today when you woke up the first thing you saw was an article about the match going on today. Richmond was playing some team you’d never heard of but then again you only knew who Richmond were because you lived a 15-minute walk away from the stadium. The game was supposed to start at twelve.  As your eyes fell to the clock that read 10:48 you finally made up your mind.

You’ve never gotten ready so quick in your life and you were practically running out your flat at 11:35 and half sprinting to Richmond. However, you had no idea how to collect the tickets and the ticket man at the counter looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, so you just bought a seat instead.

You were ushered inside alongside hundreds of rowdy football fans decked out in Richmond gear. You did your best to find your seat and thanked the gods when you saw it was at the end of the aisle. It was three rows up from the front and you quickly realised right next to the thing the footballers came out of.

You felt your smile almost split your face when you watched Jamie walk out of the tunnel in his uniform, but he didn’t see you. As they turned to wave to the crowds the whole crowd jumped up so there was no chance, he heard you screaming his name alongside everyone else.

As the game started you actually found yourself enjoying it as you screamed and cheered alongside the football fans as Jamie scored another goal. It was 2-2 thanks to Jamie and you’d never felt prouder. “Cmon Jamie!” You screamed but you weren’t even the loudest as he ran down the pitch with the ball.

He passed to another player. Him to another. Back to Jamie. Now to someone up the field and then, “GOAL!” The crowd began to cheer and a few seconds later the final whistle rung. Everyone began to jump up and down and you quickly joined them as you jumped up clapping as you did so. The team were all smiles, well apart from a really big hairy guy, as they headed for the tunnel. Jamie however wasn’t smiling as he wore a look of concern.

Your eyes however were locked on Jamie. He however was looking up at the buyer’s box waiting to see you. However, it wasn’t until his eyes fell, thinking you were officially over when he saw you. His smile suddenly appeared, beaming brightly as he stopped in his tracks.

“Woo!” You cheered, clapping even harder. You could never quite predict Jamie. No one could. Not even Jamie thought he was going to do what he was about to do.

He ran for the stands, throwing himself up and climbing over the wall. The crowd was going mental, but your cheers stopped but the smile on your face didn’t as he ran up the stairs, ignoring the fans trying to pat him on the back.

“Hey,” he breathed out with a wide grin.

“Hi,” you giggled right back at him as you stepped forward. You could hear his team yelling at him and a ref coming but neither of you cared as his arm wrapped around your back and his head began to dip.

God you’d missed these lips. Your hand went to the back of his neck as the crowd whooped and hollered. Jamie pulled back as a ref rang a sharp whistle in his ear. “Call me yeah?” He said just before the hairy guy from his team pulled him halfway down the stairs.

“Yeah sure,” You laughed as he was forced back down the stairs and out the tunnel, somehow only receiving a yellow card. It may not be how you planned it, but you were certainly never gonna let Jamie go again. Youd already made that mistake once.

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[its-time-to-write]

Omg I'm loving your response to my prompts!! thank you

I have a few ideas (You don't have to do them all) just throwing them out there to see what sparks ideas!!

I love secret admirer stories (I know its no where close to valentines day but still) maybe Reader is Rebecca's assistant and keeps getting gifts leading up to valentines day but she is pretty sure its like Sam or Isaac and tells friend Jaime (even though its really him) then the day of the grand finale and she comes to the lovely surprise of it being Jaime!

also if you could include Scarlett red roses in it for me (They are my favorite flower and the only flower I'm not allergic to)

So. I liked this one. Maybe too much? It might be the longest one I’ve written so far, so, uh, sorry about that. But I liked it a lot. It might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy. also the gif isn’t Jamie Tartt but it is Phil Dunster so hopefully that’s ok

honey, i’ll give you all my time

Good god, it’s February all ready. You have a love-hate relationship with the month; love, because Galentine’s Day and hate because Valentine’s Day. You and your friends would go out on February 15th to get discount chocolate from the shops, then return home for an ungodly amount of takeout and a movie. On the whole, you all preferred action movies with a good romance. 

You’re dreading Valentine’s Day because it’s when your boyfriend of two years held your hands in his, and told you he wanted to break up. 

That was a year ago. You’re mostly angry that he’s a dark stain on one of your favorite holidays. You’re absolutely determined not to let him ruin your enjoyment. 

This is also the first year you’re not with your friends. You moved away last March because you realized your ex had been holding you back in far too many ways. 

So. To recap. 

You’re alone. You love Valentine’s Day, despite it forever being the day of your breakup. Your friends aren’t here. You have new friends. There is no one to go to the shops with on the 15th. But discount chocolate is still discount chocolate. 

Your current job is as a personal assistant, something you excel at. You basically anticipate needs, meet them, and just generally make your employer’s life a whole lot easier. The application said the job required a lot of travel, but all expenses (minus some food) were covered. 

You were shocked when you got an interview, then a second, then a third, then were hired. 

Your boss is a woman named Rebecca Welton, and you’re half in love with her, but who isn’t, really?

You swear you’ve never been in such a healthy work environment. You mention it one day, early on, and she says it’s all thanks to their head coach, someone named Ted. 

You meet him for the first time later that day, and you understand. 

It’s impossible not to love him, because he has vision. He knows what he wants from his team, and he knows how to get it. 

He believes the team extends far beyond the players. 

He believes it extends to you, too. 

Ted and Coach Beard steal you from Rebecca as often as they can, claiming emergencies such as “a toxic amount of testosterone from all these boys,” “life-threatening boredom,” and last but not least, “there’s a new pun Ted absolutely needs to test right now and he won’t take no for an answer.”

(You like to give Ted honest feedback on his puns.) 

You also find yourself in their office when Rebecca is out for lunch, eating your respective sandwiches and swapping life stories. 

They remind you a lot of your parents.

It’s mid-June when you mention the Valentine’s Day story. 

It doesn’t hurt as much when it’s punctuated by Ted’s “he didn’ts” and Beard’s perfectly-timed gasps. 

You find yourself laughing halfway through, unable to stop. 

“And anyway,” you finish, cheeks painful from smiling so hard, “that’s why romantic love is a joke and I am drowning myself in platonic love forever.”

Ted and Beard share a look. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Beard says. 

You shoot him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Well sweetheart,” Ted says, “between the two of us collectively,” here points between him and Beard, “we know of at least three of the boys on the team who are madly in love with you.”

“What?” you gasp, “How did you- where did you- who??”

Ted zips his lips and Beard tips a finger to him. “We know of five if we count Rebecca’s intel.”

You’re sitting cross-legged on the edge of Beard’s desk, in shock. “Rebecca knows about this??”

Ted and Beard shrug in unison. “We all have our opinions on which one should shoot their shot, but that’s neither here nor there,” Ted says. 

“Coincidentally, it’s the one thing we unanimously agree on,” Beard nods. 

You’re cut off from saying anything by the door opening. One of the players stands in the doorway. 

“Excuse me, coach,” he says, accent thick. 

Ted motions in a you have the floor type of way, and the footballer turns to address you of all people. “We’re all goin’ out tonight, and Keeley sent me to invite the new girl. None of the lads have really met you yet, just seen you ‘round. Thought it might be good for team bonding, or something. I’m Jamie, by the way.”

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. “I guess- yeah, I guess I haven’t really met them. I mean, I see you guys around and stuff and I’m at your games, but I don’t really know you. Are you sure you want me to come?”

Jamie shrugs. “Coach is always on us about bein’ a team or some shit. And, havin’ a girl around makes the lads look good.”

You think that makes sense, and then find yourself agreeing to go out that night with a group of footballers you don’t know, and (thank god) Keeley Jones. 

You’re going to figure out which five before the summer’s over. 

—

You have nice time out with the lads. They go to a bar and cram into separate booths. You’re wedged in between two who have introduced themselves as Isaac and Dani, and across from Sam, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas. Roy, Richard, and a few others you don’t know are milling about, and you see Jamie and Keeley at a table, surrounding by giggling girls. The sight is so absurd that you catch yourself smiling and turning back to whatever conspiracy Bumbercatch is telling you about now. 

—

You put Sam at the top of your list as soon as you get home. The man wears his heart on his sleeve, or maybe in his eyes, but you’re positive that he’s one of the five Ted and Beard referred to. One down, four to go. 

— 

It’s the end of July, and you begin to become friends with the team. You know for an absolute fact who is not interested in you, Jamie being one of them. Coincidentally, he’s the one you become closest to. You think it’s because you’re not worrying about sending mixed signals or leading him on. You dropped public hints about not really looking for anything romantic, just to be sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

As it is, Jan Maas and Dani have made the list. Jan Maas, because he stifled his Dutch bluntness for you and Dani, because he openly declared he was madly in love with you in front of the whole team. 

—

Isaac makes the list in December. It had been in between him and Bumbercatch, but Isaac was the one who walked you to your car every night and the first one to say hello to you every morning. 

You’re not gonna lie, it was cute. 

You shared some of this with Ted and Beard, who remained impressively stone-faced. Rebecca proved to be equally impervious.

You shared all of it with your lunch-buddy-turned-work-bestie, Jamie. 

You ate with him because Rebecca was constantly in lunch meetings these days, and Ted, Beard, and Roy were always revamping their football strategies.

Jamie would plop down at your table and say, “What’s the news, Amy Hughes?” in his perfect Mancunian accent, and then listen/add commentary to whatever you had to say. 

You explained to him that the reason you wanted to know who liked you was so that you could be extra careful with their hearts. You knew what it was like to be led on, and you did NOT want to do that to someone else. 

Jamie nodded thoughtfully at that and then said, “We’re all footballers though, ain’t we? We get the shit end of the stick all the time, hearts broke by models and whatever. Even ends up in the fucking press. Everyone here’s has their heart broken before, and we all know you aren’t doing it on purpose.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s short end of the stick, Jamie.”

And thus begins your lunch hour of bickering. 

—

No one has made a move on you yet, and you don’t have a read on number five. You still think it may be Bumbercatch, but in reality, it slips from your mind. Sam’s moved on, Jan Maas has accepted defeat, Dani swears he will love you until the day he dies, and Isaac stays, well, Isaac. Still sweet. Still walking you to your car, coming round extra early in the morning with a coffee or a water, depending on which “looked less like shit.”

Really though, you don’t think about it until February first, when you walk into your office to a small box on your desk. 

At first, you think it’s a box of Ted’s biscuits. 

Then, you notice a small, scarlet-red rose taped to the top. There’s no note, and all that’s inside is a tiny paper heart. 

It’s folded with extreme care, and you place it on your shelf, smelling the rose. It smells amazing and you make a mental note to figure out where the heck it came from. But for now, it’s time to work. 

—

You don’t mention the gifts until February third, because now there’s been one a day. Each one with a scarlet red rose, and a different gift. Yesterday was an incredibly expensive bar of chocolate (it was life-changing) and today is a tiny gold bracelet.

It’s a simple enough chain, but it is absolutely breathtaking. There is no mistaking the fact that it is not cheap, so you take it and march straight to Rebecca’s office.  

“Rebecca,” you say, hands outstretched, “look.”

She does, smiles, then says, “It appears you have a secret admirer.”

“But I don’t want that!” you cry. “I don’t even have time for that! I don’t even like anybody right now!”

She peers at you over her glasses. “Don’t you?”

The sheer weight of those words is enough to physically knock you back two steps. 

You don’t, you swear you don’t, you’re absolutely sure. 

What about Vienna? a voice in the very back of your head nags.

You reply, out loud, “We don’t talk about Vienna,” and Rebecca just shrugs. 

“Have it your way,” she replies in a tone that means this conversation is over, but you’re the one ending it.

You turn on your heel and find yourself taking the route to Ted and Beard. 

You burst into their office in such a flurry that the entire room turns to look at you. “Close the door,” you say with such urgency, that Trent hurries to comply. Beard even shuts the blinds. 

“What’s on your mind, Ollie Cline?” Ted asks. 

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. You point to Roy. “Do you want to be here? It involves feelings.”

“Fuck no,” says Roy, “thanks for being fucking considerate.” He follows it up with a pointed glare at Ted, then goes into his office and firmly shuts the door. 

“Can he be here?” Ted asks, tilting his head toward Trent. 

“I don’t care, he’s probably a good one to have around for this because look!” You present the three collected roses and the bracelet. 

“Someone’s started leaving me gifts, and I’m pretty sure it’s a Valentine’s thing because of the roses, and it was fine for the first two days but this is expensive, and I can’t accept this!”

Ted and Beard share a look. You hate it when they do that and leave you out. 

Ted sighs. “Listen, do you think this about Vienna?”

You fix him with a glare. “No. We are not talking about Vienna ever again.”

Trent pipes up, “What’s Vienna?” and you wheel around on him, taking your glare with you. 

“Vienna," you spit, like it’s poisonous, “is a terrible, awful place where people think terrible, awful things. I never want to talk about it again and I never will.”

Trent nods. “Noted.” 

You turn back to Ted and Beard, pleadingly. “What do I do? Tell me what to do.”

Beard gets up and puts his hand on your shoulder. “Kid, if you want my advice, take the damn roses and wear the damn bracelet. These boys make more money than they know how to spend, so just let it go. They all know how you feel about dating, so if someone’s shooting their shot, they know the stakes.”

You shake your head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll let it go.” 

—

You decide to tell Jamie on day five, because it’s a Friday and you’re dying to get his take. You tell him everything, show him the roses in your office (hanging upside down to dry), and then hand him the notebook that was in today’s box. 

“Jamie,” you say, “this is an expensive notebook. There was a typed note inside that said, ‘for your drawings.’ How did this person even know I like drawing? I never talk about it!”

Jamie looks at you and laughs a little. You’re very flustered for something most people would enjoy. “Dunno, love, but we’ve all seen the sticky notes you leave Coach. That might be it.”

You groan and flop down into your chair. 

“At least tomorrow’s the weekend,” you say.

—

Jamie’s phone dings at 9:00am on Saturday with a text from you that says, what the actual heck and a picture of a brown bag at your doorstep. Inside is a plastic box of your favorite lemon muffin from a local bakery. He emphasized the image, then waits for your response. 

It was still warm, you write. It was someone who knows where I live and knows what time I leave to get breakfast.

Jamie grins and sends you a shrugging emoji, and you respond with an eye roll and a you’re no fun.

Jamie reads that and privately disagrees. He thinks he’s lots of fun

—

You’re pretty sure it’s Isaac. After all, he’s the only likely candidate. He’s one of the few who knows where you live and knows your routine. Not in a creepy way, in a we’re-good-friends type of way. You bring this up to Jamie, after personally banning all talk of this with Ted, Beard, and Rebecca. Stupid Vienna. You should never have told them. 

Jamie shrugs for the millionth, infuriating time. He’s been noncommittal this whole time. You’re over here pouring out your heart and soul, considering whether you like Isaac romantically or not, and all he can say is, “I dunno?” 

This is not the Jamie Tartt you’ve become best friends with. 

That Jamie would be down to hunt this secret admirer with you. That Jamie would be helping you figure out if Isaac had a chance with you. That Jamie would be way more engaged than the one sitting in front of you right now. 

But, you suppose maybe that Jamie died in Vienna, so you stop bringing it up.

—

It’s day ten. Valentine’s Day is in four day, and you’re nervous. 

You’ve decided you don’t like Isaac like that, mainly because it shouldn’t take you that long to decide if you like anyone. There has to be an initial spark, and you shouldn’t try to manufacture it. 

Still, you’re not sure it is Isaac, so you’re not going to say anything about it. The scarlet red roses hang on your office wall, permeating the room with their scent. 

You feel like you’re dying. 

This is a cruel joke and you’re dying. 

The building is basically empty right now. Rebecca and Higgins have some meeting, the team is on the pitch (including Will) and various other staff are somewhere far away from you. So, you jump a little when Trent Crimm comes tripping into your office. 

“Vienna,” he says, no greeting. “If you didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t have told anyone. I’m assuming you do want to talk about it, but you don’t want judgement from the people you love. I’m here to offer my services as a neutral party.”

You look at him. “Trent. You are a journalist. Your whole job is writing down people’s secrets. Why on earth would I talk to you about the worst day of my life?”

Trent shrugs. “I’m good at keeping secrets. This would be off the record. I’ve never lied to people about off the record, also. I consider it bad journalism.”

You consider this for a moment, then sigh. 

“Alright,” you concede. “At least if this gets out, I know whose head I’m shaving in retaliation.”

Trent looks at you in surprise, seeing you in a whole new, slightly threatening light.

“It happened two months ago. It was around Christmas, and I didn’t have anywhere to go…”

—

Your family all had their own separate plans that Christmas. Plans that didn’t really involve you. Same with your friends. You said something casually to Rebecca, and the next day she told you she had booked you a trip to Vienna. Call it an early Christmas present, she said. It was at the Aumaris Vienna, and it was gorgeous and ridiculously out of your budget, but she said you worked hard and gave her peace-of-mind, and you can’t really put a price on that, can you?

So you went. 

But here’s the thing. 

Someone else didn’t have Christmas plans. 

So when you brought up your trip at your daily lunch, said someone else casually asked, can I come? 

You almost choked on your sandwich. 

Because here’s the other thing.

You were, maybe, kind of, possibly just a little bit head over heels in love with this someone else.

You’re not sure when it happened, really, just that it was probably in August and that it was soul-crushing because you knew for an absolute fact that he did not, and never would, feel the same way. 

You didn’t tell anyone except Keeley, but under the condition that she just let you say it and that she never, ever give you a response to it. Just listen. 

She did, but you were pretty sure she almost combusted. 

But who are you to say no when Jamie Tartt invited himself on your luxurious Christmas vacation saying, I’ll pay extra to get a plane ticket next to you? 

You were doomed from the start. 

To make matters totally and impossibly worse, he couldn’t find another room. 

He had his tickets, but the hotels, he said, were packed. 

It was Christmas, after all. 

So that’s how you ended up in a luxury hotel with Jamie Tartt for a week and a half, one day of which was Christmas. 

You know the, “there was only one bed” trope that everyone thinks is so cute?

It was that, but only if you add deep, shattering heartbreak to it. 

Because every night, you had to listen to Jamie say, “goodnight, love,” and then get into that giant, soft bed as far away from him as you could manage. 

Every morning you woke up to the pillow barricade long gone, one of his arms thrown around you. Or one of your legs on top of his. Or a million different scenarios where you end up literally asleep together, some weird gravity pulling you to each other. 

You were falling so hard and so fast, that you felt like the air was knocked from your lungs when Jamie started talking about the girl he liked. 

“She’s just so fucking beautiful,” he’d say, staring at an Alpine mountain. Or, “Swear she’s the smartest fucking person I’ve ever met,” while traipsing through the city. Or, “Pretty sure she’s ruined me for everyone else,” while getting facials at the hotel spa. 

To be fair, you were the one who teased him into admitting he liked someone. 

You just didn’t expect it to hurt so much. 

The entire trip felt like heaven and hell had simultaneously converged on you, and you never wanted to leave but also desperately counted the days till it was over. 

You came back and broke down in Rebecca’s office. Ted and Beard were there. The whole thing came spilling out, about how you loved the trip so much it felt like your heart would explode but that Jamie loved someone else. 

They all exchanged looks amongst themselves and did their best to comfort you. 

You pulled yourself together and they promised never to say anything to anyone. 

—

“So that’s Vienna,” you finish. 

Trent is just staring at you, mouth slightly agape. 

He finally says, “My god, that’s fucked,” with such emotion that you decide right then and there that you like Trent Crimm and his rainbow mug. 

Now, you just shrug. “I did it to myself, honestly. That’s why I’m tripping out about this secret admirer thing. And god, Trent, the roses. They’re so beautiful and it’s so romantic, and whoever it is obviously knows me well so there’s a part of me that wants to like this person, but…” you trail off. 

“But there’s a part of you that’s hoping against hope that Jamie’s behind it all,” Trent finishes. 

You let out a little laugh. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Trent looks at the roses, then at you. “Maybe you should talk to Jamie,” he says, gently. 

You reply with a forceful, “No,” and then follow up with a small, “That’s what Ted and Rebecca say, too.” 

Trent stands up, shrugs, says with a small smile, “Just a thought,” then he’s out the way he came. 

—

It is Valentine’s Day. And it’s a Sunday, which means you are legally required to stay in bed until 10, at which point you will get out only to make yourself decent enough to go buy a good cup of coffee and maybe (definitely) something to eat. 

You’ve just finished putting on your shoes, when there’s a knock at the door. 

You take a breath, and get ready to let down your secret admirer as gently as possible. 

You swing open the door to reveal- 

“Jamie! What are you doing here?”

Jamie Tartt is on your doorstep, hands behind his back, looking shyer than the day you first met. 

He opens his mouth and says the last thing you’d ever expect:

“D’you remember Vienna?”

Your heart, which had already been going fast because his dumb floppy hair was all dumb and floppy in his stupid, cute headband, is now working double time. You manage a nod. 

Jamie takes this as permission to continue. “D’you remember how I couldn’t get another room, no matter how hard I tried? That wasn’t true. I could’ve.” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue. 

“And d’you remember when we met, when I told you Keeley told me to invite you out? That was a lie too.”

You tilt your head, confused. He keeps going. 

“Look- I fucked it. I fucked it a million times and I told Ted and I told Beard, but they kept helping me un-fuck it and giving me chances, and then Rebecca bought two tickets to Vienna and slipped me the other one, and they all told me I had a perfect shot.” 

You’re still not understanding what he’s saying. He might as well be speaking another language. Jamie sees the confusion in your eyes, takes a breath, and tries again. 

“Keeley told me to invite you out, but only because I’d seen you around and thought you were fit. Then Isaac and all the lads thought the same thing, so I didn’t even get to fuckin’ sit with you. And then you started sayin’ things about not bein’ ready for a relationship, so I tried to let it go. I really fucking tried. But I just couldn’t. Your eyes are too sparkly and your laugh is too fucking cute and I couldn’t let it go, so I started eating lunch with you and you fucking let me. I knew the moment I said anything about liking you, it was over.”

Comprehension has started to dawn, but you push down hope until Jamie’s done speaking. 

“Everyone told me to shoot my shot in Vienna. We shared a bed, for fuck’s sake.” Here, Jamie looks bewildered. “But I dunno, I didn’t want to make shit weird. So when you asked if I liked anyone I said yeah, and started fuckin describing you, but you never fucking picked up on it. That’s when I got the idea to try one more time. All by meself, no help from anyone else. So…yeah.”

Jamie Tartt is standing on your porch confessing his love for you on Valentine’s Day and it is not a dream, because if it were your teeth would be falling out and his hair would probably be neon pink. 

“I’m an idiot,” you breathe. “You like me? Like, like-like me?”

Jamie quirks a smile at that. “Not quite, darling. Pretty fucking sure I love you.” He pulls his hand from behind his back to reveal a bunch of scarlet red roses. The same from each gift. 

“Got these for you,” he says. “D’you know how hard it is to get red roses in February?”

You don’t answer him because you’re leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve thought about doing every day for what feels like forever. He’s kissing you back, hand with the flowers pressed against your back, other hand in your hair. 

“I love you too, Jamie,” you whisper against his mouth. He smiles and pulls you in again. 

[piratefishmama]

Forgiven Not Forgotten | Part 7

Never let it be said that the Harringtons knew how to go small. They didn’t. The quaint little two bed they’d been living in was always going to be temporary if Steve came home. Even if it was now… technically theirs. It was a nice house, perfect for many a small family, which technically they were.

But they were also… filthy stinking rich.

The Harringtons didn’t really know how to go and stay small. Which is why by the following weekend, Eddie’s release from hospital looming upon them and the two bed house feeling more and more cramped by the day, they already had a cash offer in place on a five bedroom estate in Bloomington.

Five bedrooms, four bathrooms, a finished basement games room, just under eight acres of land, a pool, and an extra little pool house outfitted as a detached bungalow on the property.

The little house they’d lived in… given it was theirs, well. They had no real plans for it yet. Selling it on was a potential, it was too far from the estate to even contemplate handing the keys to one of the families linked to theirs through their children’s shared trauma, although that’d be a nice gesture on their part, the idea of separating their kids after such an ordeal?

Nope. They’d clung to each other. Kept each other alive. They needed each other.

One of the reasons they even chose the bigger property was because “It’s big enough for you all to be there.” That’s what Lynda had told Steve when he’d asked about it. “It’s not going to happen for another couple of weeks, so the house is still going to be a little cramped with everyone in it, but…”

“We have no intentions of separating you from your family, Steven.” John finished for her, nodding over Steve’s shoulder to the multiple sets of eyes watching them. “Like your mother said, what we have now is too cramped, this new place will have plenty of room for everyone.”

“And… what about when their parents turn up?” Because it was a when, not an if. “Just gonna go back to an empty house?” They were operating on when. Nevermind that they’d never seen their parents get out of Hawkins. Nevermind that the only parent they knew for certain was alive and well outside of Joyce and Hopper, was Karen Wheeler, Ted having put himself between his kids and a Demogorgon during the early days and hadn’t come out as the victor. It didn’t matter that they’d seen horrors beyond anything a child should have to witness.

The kids needed to operate on when.

“Then we’ll help them find homes in the area, but until then, the house will be… a home base of sorts. A comfortable starting point for all of you so you’re not too far away from each other, it’ll never be an empty house, Steven. I know it might look like we’re just spending money for the sake of it but… it’s not like that anymore.” They weren’t doing that anymore. They’d found a better way than being away from home all the time. John worked from a home office and delegated important tasks and jobs to others to free up his time, and Lynda decided she wanted to be at home.

They were just glad Steve was allowing them to just decide to be there for him all of a sudden. He didn’t have to.

“…Forgive me if I still doubt that.” No amount of tearful apologies could erase all that history “But thanks, for… for thinking of us. It’s true, we kinda stuck together like glue after Mr Wheeler…” he trailed off. After they’d gotten Karen and Holly out of that house while Ted held back that shaking door, huge, clawed fingers tearing through wood. He still remembered Holly’s screams, still remembered Karen crying, begging them to go back as Nancy and Mike dragged her out, Holly running straight to Steve. “We were never far apart from each other.” It’d be weird without them, unsettling when the dust finally settled. When parents returned to claim their kids.

“And you wont be.” John placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, firm, squeezing it in comforting reassurance. “You won’t be.”

~~

“Aaaand this is your room.” Had it not been for the fact that Eddie had been in a coma for the last god only knows, where he could, with rules, conjure ridiculous shit, he’d have probably assumed he was still out.

He had a room. In what was essentially. A mansion. But he’d never seen it before, so he wasn’t still in his funky little void because he wouldn’t have been able to conjure it.

Only what he’d seen, only places he’d been.

He had his own room. Bigger than his old one at the trailer because of course it was. Currently empty of personal belongings, void of personality, but Steve was holding boxes. Boxes with stuff in them, rolled up tubes of paper, stuff wrapped in newspapers, and he was setting those boxes down one by one inside the room. “…What’s in those?”

“Shit we saved from the trailer, it’s not much but… it’s something.” Eddie silently turned to just. Stare at him. Brows furrowed, confusion so evident Steve had to ask “what?”

“…How long has it been since I died, Steve?” He had to ask again, just to be sure of something, even if it was a weird question to ask.

“Bout two years, why?”

“… And in that time, Hawkins basically ate shit, right?”

“Yup, where’s this going?”

“How’d you save my stuff for that long? Why did you save my stuff for that long? Shit couldn’t have been easy to keep safe, right? So… why?” Steve fell silent, his jaw shifting, lips pursing, visibly going through all the possible reasons he could have saved that stuff, all the reasons why he would have saved that stuff, all the potential excuses, the boy would be terrible at poker.

He settled on shrugging his shoulders.

“Because I did. Because I could. Like I said, it’s not much.” It was so much. Not quantity wise, no… Steve was right there wasn’t much in those boxes, probably why Steve could carry multiple at a time but it meant so much. Steve obviously wasn’t going to go into the why’s or the how’s with him though. He was going to brush them away, without answers. “We saved some mugs, there’s some posters in here, uhh, I got a bunch of your tapes and your deck, I wish I could say I saved your guitars but… I’m sorry man, it was just too risky carting around something that could make noise. I think… they might still be there but—”

“It’s fine, Steve… this—this is way more than I could have asked for.” He could always get a new guitar, eventually. It’d mean saving up somehow, or using some of the hush money that the government had promised him for signing, he was planning on using that to find Wayne though.

It’d been over a week, the hospital had slowly been cleared of survivors, the Sinclair’s were the only parents who’d made it thus far, having been staying with Sue’s sister a few towns over doing the exact same thing as the Harringtons. Waiting. Hoping. Praying for news on their kids, any news. Anything.

They’d taken the Harrington’s offer to stay in the converted pool house with Karen until they could get housing arranged, the kids staying in the main house with everyone else.

“Yeah well… we’ll sort you out a new one eventually. Can’t leave the bard without his instrument, right?” Eddie’s wide eyes were on him again, a beaming smile spreading across his lips, dimpling his cheeks, stretching the scar tissue on his jaw, and Steve had to look away, he had to, because otherwise he just might fall again, and he couldn’t… he couldn’t make that mistake twice.

“Be still my beating heart, was that a D&D reference, Harrington?” He could feel the warmth seeping into his cheeks at the attention, as Eddie leaned in a little closer, got into his space, it’d been so long since someone had paid him any attention. Even if it meant nothing to Eddie, even if he was just being silly, be still his own beating heart.

“Maybe. Now get to unpacking your shit.” He put the last of the boxes down on the bed, purposefully turning away from Eddie to hide his reddening face, to hide what he knew Eddie had never wanted to see. “We’ll be heading out into town in an hour to find us all some new clothes, maybe some new stuff for the rooms too. Hop to it.”

“You’re not gonna help lil ol me unpack? I just got out of hospital!” Eddie called after him as Steve made to leave the room.

“With a clean bill of health! You can manage a few boxes!” And he was gone. Running away. Like a coward.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Bedroom Eyes Like a Remedy

I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You

Chelsea!Roy Kent x Coach's Daughter!Reader

3.6k words (kind of a long one!)

Warnings: Language, lying/sneaking around, no Ted Lasso characters except for Roy, fluff & flirting, some spice, mentions of drinking, "locker room talk", protective dad

Staying up all night with a professional footballer sounded good at the time, you reasoned with yourself as you stifled a yawn. But now, walking down the hall to grab one of the coaches a breakfast sandwich, you were almost regretting it.

Almost.

You were nearly at your destination when a hand grabbed your wrist. When you whirled around, Roy was smirking at you.

“You busy tonight?” he murmured in place of a greeting.

Melting at the sight of him, you leaned against a wall and batted your eyes flirtatiously. “Depends, are you making me an offer?”

Roy bit his lip and shrugged. “Homemade dinner. Horribly expensive bottle of wine.” He leaned in close to whisper in your ear, “Finish what you tried to start last night.”

He definitely noticed the way your thighs pressed together at his suggestion. “Sounds like a plan, Kent.”

He opened his mouth to say something else-

“Oi, Kent!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your dad was striding down the hall, head tilted at the sight of you and Roy clearly in the middle of a conversation. Oh hell, did he notice the way your eyes were wild for the midfielder? Did he catch Roy’s tiny step back to put distance between you? Shit, did he see Roy whisper suggestively in your ear?

Roy stood like a soldier at attention as your dad approached. “Weight room,” your dad said sharply.

“Coach.” With a nod to your dad and not a second glance at you, Roy walked briskly down the hall in the direction your dad instructed.

You tried to sidestep to get back to your task, but the sound of your dad clearing his throat had you freezing like Roy did. “What were you and Kent chatting so intensely about?” The question came out slowly, as though he was dreaded your answer.

“A book he recommended to me,” you blurted out quickly. Roy and you suggested books to each other from time to time; your dad knew that well. “Kent wanted to know how I was enjoying it.” You shrugged. “Sorry for keeping him from training,” you added, hoping your face was innocent enough to convince your dad.

He nodded, a slow nod, processing your words. “You two seem to be quite chummy lately,” he observed. “Smiling at each other, whispering in corners.” He narrowed his eyes. “Anything you need to tell me?”

You were thrown back to being a teenager, caught coming home past curfew, caught with a boy in your room, caught with alcohol on your breath. Each of those times, you had been honest with your dad. Each of those times had concluded with a firm but loving conversation, a hug between father and daughter, a better understanding of each other.

But not this time.

“No,” you lied. “Just being friendly. But I won’t distract him from work anymore, I promise. We’ll save our chats for after practice.”

A small shove from your dad told you that you were off the hook. “Alright,” he conceded. “But be careful with Kent, alright? I don’t have to tell you about his reputation. Not that he’d be daft enough to go out with you.” He let out a light chuckle, one you returned with a weak smile. When he caught the absolute mortification on your face, his own grin dropped. “Because you’re my kid,” he clarified firmly. “And Roy Kent knows better.”

Apparently not, you thought to yourself. “Dad…” You cleared your throat. “D’you think it would really be so bad if I… if we…”

“Don’t.” Your dad’s voice was a sharp knife to your abdomen. “Come on, love. You know how these guys are. Talented as hell, but not boyfriend material.” He shook his head. “I know you probably think he’s a nice guy, he’s good-looking and famous, but you’ll only wind up hurt, and I’ll wind up in an awkward situation here.” He smiled at you. “There’s plenty of other fellas you can go after. Leave Roy Kent and the rest of them on the pitch.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, missing the distressed look on your face. “Think you could grab me a breakfast sandwich too?”

You pretended you weren’t struggling for air as you nodded. “Sure, Dad.”

The knots in your stomach from your conversation with your dad were still there that night as you stood in front of your closet. No one likes lying to their parents, you reminded yourself as you pulled out your favorite dress, the one you usually saved for clubs and birthday dinners. But sometimes, a girl had to do what a girl had to do. And what you had to do was dress yourself up and go see Roy Kent at his flat, even if it meant looking your father in the eye and lying through your teeth about going out with your girlfriends.

As you drove the now familiar route to Roy’s, you were struck by the realization that your alibis had one thing in common: your recently neglected friends. Shit, you thought. You needed them to be in on your secret if you were going to keep this up. You fished your phone out of your bag and quickly dialed the friend whose name had slipped out of your mouth a lot lately.

“She’s alive!” Angela shrieked when she answered.

The chuckle you let out was tinged with guilt. “Hey,” you greeted. “Sorry for falling off the face of the earth.” You cleared your throat, trying to figure out where to start. “See, there’s uh, this guy-”

“He must be fit to have you forgetting your friends,” she teased.

A dreamy smile crossed your face as you thought about the sight of Roy in the changing room. “He is,” you assured her. “But… he’s also kind of a secret.” You sighed. “And I’ve kind of been using you as my excuse to leave the house to see him.”

Angela tsked at you jokingly. “Dating a guy Mum and Dad don’t approve of? Naughty girl.”

“Well, Mum might approve if she got to know him.” You paused for a long moment. “But Dad-”

“He’s not a footballer, is he?” Angela laughed. “Let me, guess, you finally shagged Roy Kent?”

She’d meant it as a joke; all of your mates knew how much you drooled over the midfielder. They teased you constantly. But they also knew your dad’s feelings about his players, having heard his warnings first-hand once you had all grown up and found yourselves looking at his team in a new light. They knew his one rule for hanging around Chelsea FC was staying away from the fellas. And here you were, his own daughter, completely breaking that rule.

“I mean…” You let out a deep exhale. “I haven’t shagged him yet,” you explained pathetically. “I’m actually on my way to his flat now for…” Your face was burning hot. “That.”

A choking sound came through the phone. “I’m sorry,” Angela scoffed. “You’re sneaking around with Roy Kent?”

You paused for a moment. You could tell her you’re joking, that you’re seeing some nobody and you just want to keep things private. But shit, you had to tell someone. “Yes,” you quietly confirmed.

There was a long silence on her end; for a moment, you worried that she’d hung up to call your father and tell him everything. Finally, her voice returned. “Well shit,” she laughed. “Good for you, girl!”

The breath you’d been holding flew out of your mouth. While Angela promised to help keep your secret, you arrived at Roy’s place. After agreeing to get together soon so you could give her all the details, you hung up, satisfied that you had at least one person in your life who was happy for you and your relationship with Roy Kent. Not that you considered this a relationship relationship, you quickly scolded yourself. Maybe fling was the better word. No, that didn’t quite cover the way Roy looked at you while eating hot dogs the night of his photoshoot. Romance? Sure, you told yourself. This romance with Roy Kent.

Roy was certainly feeling romantic, it appeared. He greeted you with a slow kiss in the doorway before taking your coat and purse from you and ushering you inside. A couple of candles were lit in the otherwise dim living room, and from his stereo you could hear soft music playing. He took your hand and led you to the dining room, which up to this point was just the room you passed through on your way to the kitchen. Tonight, however, the table was set for two, with candles and wine and a vase of flowers sitting on a white tablecloth. You eyed the tablecloth carefully; you wouldn’t have thought of Roy Kent as the type of man to own a tablecloth, if you were being honest.

He must have caught the way you blinked in surprise at the setup, because Roy cleared his throat as he held out your chair for you. “Figured, my first time making you dinner, might as well do things properly,” he mumbled as you sat down.

“It’s lovely,” you assured him. You stared at him, with his hard expression and twitching fingers. “Thank you. Really.”

A pleased look twinkled in his eye as he turned to the kitchen. “I hope you’re hungry.” He returned with a pair of plates accompanied by a heavenly smell. “It’s, uh, a pesto gnocchi,” he explained as he set the plates on the table.

As the two of you tucked in, you stole a glance at him. He had a hard look on his face, stony and expressionless as he stared at his plate. But when you looked at his hands, you caught the way they twitched and fidgeted, betraying how… nervous he was? Excited? You hoped happy was somewhere in the jumble of emotions it looked like Roy was feeling.

Just as you were trying to decide what to say to break the quiet, Roy looked up at you, eyebrows scrunched. “The fucking candles aren't too much are they?” he blurted.

A soft smile graced your lips. Nervous, you decided. Roy was definitely nervous. “Everything is perfect,” you murmured, feeling bold enough to touch his hand. “Especially this food. Holy shit, who knew Chelsea’s superstar could cook?” You smirked at him. “I bet you learned to cook just to impress women, Kent.”

He rolled his eyes as the corner of his mouth curled upwards. “Fuck off, I actually enjoy cooking.” He chuckled and added, “But yeah, it does seem to be…” He bobbled his head. “Impressive.”

You decided to shove down the pang of envy at the idea of other women, gorgeous models and famous actresses, sitting in this same spot, eating this same dish and drinking the same wine from the same glass. Instead, you focused on the warmth of Roy’s eyes as he gazed at you. “Well, consider me impressed.”

You tried to think of the last time you had such a perfect date. It wasn’t as if you went out with losers; the guys you dated were always good-looking enough, smooth enough, smart and clever enough. Most of them were decent enough in bed. They knew the right places to go and the right things to say. They were fine. Hell, some of them were even great.

But none of them were Roy.

Roy who rolled his eyes playfully and told stories that made you laugh and made faces at you when you called him a prick. And gazed at you with the softest brown eyes known to man and offered up small smiles when he listened to you talk. And asked about a million times if you liked the food and made sure that you had enough of the wine that you knew the campus pub would never carry.

Roy Kent was nothing short of the perfect date.

The empty plates lay in front of you for a long time, ignored in favor of chatting about football, university, mates, books, everything and anything either of you could think of. While telling you about being a kid in Sunderland, Roy eventually trailed off, clearly preferring to lean his elbows on the table and smile gently at you in the candlelight. You wondered if you had the same look on your face, a look full of fondness and bliss that carried words that felt far too scary to even entertain.

“Thanks again for visiting me last night,” you murmured, tracing the rim of your wine glass. “I think you should climb through my window more often.”

 He chuckled lightly and reached out for your hand. “Well, if it gets me more dinners like this, I might have to.” He leaned forward, his rapidly moving eyes betraying the calculations he was doing in his mind. “Especially if… you want to continue from last night?”

Every inch of your skin burned in anticipation. “That… sounds like a good idea,” you breathed. You bit your lip gently. “You’ve seen my room. Guess it’s only fair you show me yours, right?”

“Right.”

This wasn’t the first time Roy Kent had taken a woman to his bedroom. Not by a longshot. Just like this wasn’t your first time letting a guy lead you to his room. But something about this felt… different. There was something in the air, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, as you held Roy’s hand and walked through his posh apartment. Something thick and heavy that you could feel in the tips of your fingers and the pit of your stomach.

But you didn’t dwell on whatever that something was. Not when Roy Kent was lying in bed on top of you, his mouth on yours, demanding your full attention. Your hands pulled and tugged at his shirt, already desperate to get him out of his clothes. He seemed to be thinking the same thing, because his own rough hands were shifting the skirt of your dress upwards. In a tumble of soft moans and even softer giggles, the two of you managed to remove each other’s clothing until you were both down to your undergarments. With only his boxers and your favorite pair of panties between you, Roy’s hardness rubbed against your heat sinfully, providing you with more of the friction he’d begun to give you the night before in your bedroom.

“Fuck,” you groaned as he bit and licked at your neck, not caring if he left little marks on your skin. He rocked against you lazily, a preview of the pleasure you knew you were in for. When his tip brushed against your clothed clit, you let out a sharp gasp. “Fuck, Roy.”

He stilled for a moment, smirk against your skin. His chuckle hit your ears like music.

Shit, had you done something wrong? “Everything alright?” you breathed.

Roy lifted his head, smile wide on his face. “I’ve just realized… I haven't heard you say my name since the day we met.”

Confusion flooded your face as you tilted your head at him. “What the fuck are you on about?” You couldn’t help but return his grin with a quizzical smile of your own. “I say your name all the time.”

“Nope.” He shook his head emphatically, his scruff tickling your bare skin. “You always call me Kent. You never call me Roy.”

The two of you blinked at each other, both trying to remember an instance, any instance, where you’d used his first name. Hell, now that you thought about it, you didn’t think he ever said your name either; it was always ‘princess’. It was nothing short of ridiculous, now that you thought about it properly. You were in bed with the man, practically naked, and you’d never even spoken his given name before or heard him use yours. As if you both came to the realization at the same time, you burst into fits of laughter, pressing your foreheads together the way you had in your bedroom the night before.

Once your giggles died down, Roy stole a kiss, a long, affectionate one. “I like how you say my name,” he mumbled against your lips. As he spoke, his hand snaked between your bodies, travelling down your figure until he reached your panties. With a smirk, he began sliding them down your thighs. “Bet I can make you say it again.”

For once, you didn’t tease or playfully argue. Because for once, you had to admit that Roy Kent was completely and utterly correct.

~

Once you’d caught your breath, you glanced up at Roy, whose chest you were resting on. He looked so blissful and gorgeous like this, with his bare chest and flushed face and dreamy eyes. Some part of you- alright, all of you- wished you could just stay like this all night, curled up against him.

But you didn’t think that was an option.

“I should get going,” you murmured, starting to sit up. “You've got training tomorrow and all.”

Roy’s firm grip around your middle pulled you back down to him. “You can stay,” he urged. He narrowed his eyes at you teasingly. “Unless now that you’ve gotten me in bed, you’re done with me,” he joked, as if he knew you were fighting not to suspect the same thing of him. “Because I don’t know about you-” His arms pulled you close. “-but I would like to repeat that a few times, princess.” He planted a kiss to the top of your head. “The whole date, I mean,” he clarified. “Good food, good conversation, good sex…” He raised his eyebrows at you. “Not a bad deal.”

Although his voice was light and full of teasing, you didn’t miss his meaning: Roy wanted to keep seeing you. While you weren’t totally sure what that would entail- going public, being exclusive or not, putting labels on things, telling your dad- you knew you were in. You would be in for anything this man suggested so long as it involved the two of you spending time together, in and out of the bedroom, sharing smiles and kisses and jokes and your bodies. Whether or not it was smart, you knew you were seriously falling for him. And the realization was equal parts thrilling and terrifying.

“Yeah, Roy,” you hummed, kissing his bare chest as he held you tight. “It’s a pretty good fucking deal.”

~

It was nearly four in the morning when you tiptoed back into your house, thanks to the alarm Roy had been thoughtful enough to set for you. It had been a challenge to remove yourself from his arms and his warm bed, and an even bigger challenge removing yourself from his lips when he insisted on walking you to your car. It was almost silly; you’d be seeing him in a few hours, but he kissed you like he was a soldier saying a final goodbye before shipping off into the unknown. Then again, it wasn’t like you could act like this during training, not under the gazes of an entire football squad and coaching staff and one very protective father.

Later that morning, that protective father walked down the hall beside you with a pensive look on his face, as if he wanted to say something, but never opening his mouth. He’d done it the night before, when he watched you walk out in your little dress and giant heels. And he’d done it this morning, before finally asking what time you’d come in and if you’d had a good time with the girls.

Roy wasn’t in the changing room when you began organizing your father’s desk for the day. He’d mentioned something to you about going in extra early, since he was already awake, so you assumed he must be in the weight room already. Perhaps it was better; no chance of your dad seeing you exchange goofy smiles this early in the morning.

Your dad was reading over a report when you saw him perk up at a conversation going on in the changing room.

“-Kent totally got some last night,” a young striker was saying.

“He say with who?” the defender he was speaking with asked, his voice dripping with gossipy curiosity.

A soft chuckle wafted into the office. “Nah. He didn’t even say anything happened,” came an admission. “But you knew Kent. He’s got that dopey smile and he keeps stretching his back, the way he always does after- ahem- strenuous activity.”

The defender laughed. “If he’s not saying anything,” he mused, “it must either be someone really fucking famous, or it’s something serious. Kent always kisses and tells.”

“Just don’t tell Coach’s girl.” Your dad tensed at the mention of you. Your eyes remained trained on his desk, as if you couldn’t hear a word from the changing room. “She’s been mooning over Kent more than usual lately, poor kid.”

“I think she’s a great gal,” the defender countered. “If Kent wasn’t… Kent, then maybe she’d have a shot.”

The two players continued their coarse chatter as they left the changing room, speculating who the mystery woman could be and recalling some of Roy’s more memorable conquests. Your dad looked over at you, mouth in a straight line and eyebrows raised. You simply blinked at him, refusing to be the first to say something, lest you betray yourself.

“See?” he finally said softly. “Leave. Him. On. The. Pitch.”

“Yes, sir,” you murmured as he turned back to his report. You quickly tugged at the sweater you wore, hoping its high neckline would hide the hickeys Roy had left you with the night before.

Taglist:@gee72sstuff@book-of-roses@kissykissymouth@emmy2811 @hart-kinsella @klaine-92@dearvoidgoodnight@misshall14@issieruby@royal-sunflower@kissmekent @itswhateveripromise@slaymybreathaway@darkmagazineblaze@larascorneroftheworld@infinetlyforgotten@caught-the-feels@rae4725@sisinever@cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @dd122004dd @veryprairieberry @spacecluster

[ditheringkestrel]

like I’m sorry if you’re disappointed that Ted is going back to Kansas but that was THE ONLY WAY this story could end. he only agreed to move across the world because his family life was falling apart and he thought some time away would save his relationship. and ted is not fucking stupid, he knows he won’t be able to effectively coach this sport he knows nothing about. he was probably thinking — optimistically, but this is ted we’re talking about — that he would coach for the rest of their season and give Michelle space and then go back home and they could work things out and be a family together again. five months living away from your kid is a VERY different story than nearly 3 years.

the show is about fatherhood and mentorship. ted wants to help mentor his players to be the best versions of themselves, but above all, he wants to be a good father. he’s fucking terrified of being a shit dad, it’s his greatest fear! and I’m sorry but he is not able to be the best dad he can be to henry the way things are, and this has been shown over and over again to be true and to be really distressing to him.

ted’s influence has left his mark on the team and roy and rebecca and the community (that last part has been really emphasized this season). richmond is in a good place, with people involved now who want to help the club succeed and have the skills/resources to do so (rebecca, higgins, keeley, roy, nate, the team). he’s helped them all grow as people and he’s grown as a person. he’s Mary Poppins, and he stayed until the wind changed — it’s changed!!!! he’s done his job, and he’s done it well, because they don’t need him anymore! which has been emphasized over and over this season! he’s been on his heroes journey and now he has to return home (changed). he has to find a new purpose and part of that purpose has to be being the best father he can be.

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Part of the Team

Plot: On her first day working for KJPR, Y/n tours AFC Richmond’s facility and meets some of the staff.

Warnings: language, use of f!reader, (16+)

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Well, first off, thank you for the lovely response! I certainly didn’t endeavor to write anything for Ted Lasso (I was actually going to take a writing break) but this idea seemed good enough to indulge.

This has been added to the taglist in my bio, so don’t be afraid to click it and add yourself. It will be kept 16+ just for language and the show’s subject matter so I won’t be adding anyone unless your age/range is specified in your bio.

All that being said, I hope this nurses a little bit of your finale hangover. No Greyhounds to be found in this chapter, but a wild Ted does appear. Writing for him is going to be a hilarious exercise for me lol. Enjoy!!

—————————

Wanting to be prepared, Y/n had started doing research on AFC Richmond the morning after accepting Keeley’s job offer.

The slight buzz she’d managed at the bar had blocked from her memory that she knew more about Rebecca Welton than she thought. Years before, she’d seen her face splashed across all the tabloids at news stands and markets talking about her divorce from…for the life of her, Y/n couldn’t remember the man’s name. All she remembered is there’d been perfect pictures of him and his various models of the months, while the cameras always managed to catch Rebecca with a sour look on her face. Y/n remembered feeling like she could read the whole situation without without ever perusing a filthy word.

As she studied, Y/n put together that Richmond consisted of three coaches. The manager, Ted Lasso, was a name the whole country knew, regardless of whether you watched football or not. It wasn’t Y/n’s place to judge, but she assumed if he was still around, there was a reason. He’d brought along an assistant coach from the states with him, along with Roy Kent joining their staff the previous season. Another name she didn’t need to bother to learn as it was already burned in every Brit’s brain. There also seemed to be a scandal with a previous coach, Nathan Shelley, having abandoned Richmond for West Ham United as Richmond reentered the Premier League.

Having gone to school in London and staying after, Y/n had gone to plenty of football matches with friends. Much like American sports, she’d never been as interested as those surrounding her, but she enjoyed the atmosphere. However, she pulled up highlights of old Richmond matches on Youtube and studied them to try and get a feel for the players. Two in particular stood out to her.

Sam Obisanya caught her attention for his raw talent, the graceful way he managed to move in such a brutal sport. She’d also seen the way he handled himself in press conferences, always soft and well spoken. He’d been fearless in his defense of Nigeria, his home country, and against Dubai Air and Cerithium Oil. She had mad respect for him and his bravery.

Then there was Jamie Tartt. Going through videos of his stints at Richmond left Y/n puzzled. He seemed to have started out the cocky striker, too busy kissing his own foot to realize there were twenty more on the pitch waiting to shine. He never passed. He never assisted. It was all him. But then, after his swift departure and return to the team, his playing style shifted. Suddenly, he did pass. He did assist. A few months difference and it was practically night and day.

Y/n sighed as she shut her laptop, having just finished the video of him letting Dani Rojas take the penalty goal that secured Richmond’s return to the Premier League. She hoped Jamie Tartt, and all other Greyhounds, wouldn’t be a PR headache.

The night before she officially started at KJPR, Y/n found herself nervous. It seemed like too ideal of a situation to meet someone at a bar and be offered a job right after losing yours. She felt hesitant to trust that when she walked into Keeley’s office, she wouldn’t find a complete nightmare. She went to sleep with a clenched jaw and stiff shoulders, praying that this wouldn’t be another loss to face.

—————————

Y/n pulled up to the KJPR office building at 8:55. She adjusted her carefully ironed pants, smoothed down her blouse and blazer and took a deep breath. Her capabilities were the one place her insecurities had no place living. She was good at what she did, she just needed a place to do it.

When the elevator doors opened, she was surprised to find a small office with multiple occupied desks set up. Keeley had made it sound much smaller than it actually was.

“Y/n!”

A familiar voice exclaimed and Y/n peered across the room to see Keeley rushing out from behind her desk and bursting out her office door.

“I’m so glad you showed,” she grinned as she scurried to Y/n and took hold of her hands.

“You offered me a job and you thought I wasn’t going to show up?” Y/n asked with a confused chuckle.

“I mean, to be fair, I offered it to you in a restaurant after, like, a glass and a half of wine,” Keeley replied, “I’m not sure I’d have believed me either.”

Y/n laughed a little, very aware that all her fellow employees were not only watching the unprofessional display, but hearing the story of her even more unprofessional hiring.

“Should we…” Y/n gestured towards Keeley’s office.

“Oh, right,” Keeley practically shouted, leading Y/n back and through the door.

True to the little Y/n knew about the woman, Keeley’s office was head to toe…Keeley. Pink everything, floral patterns, a ceramic jungle cat in the corner…it was, most definitely, the most unique of any boss’s office Y/n had ever entered.

“Right,” Keeley said as she took a seat on the couch in the corner, leaving a spot for Y/n, “Let’s get to it.”

Y/n settled onto the couch, leaving a fair amount of space that Keeley immediately cut in half.

“So I know you said that you’ve been more of a manager lately, but that you’re good with PR,” Keeley recounted, “What did you do for you last companies?”

“Oh, I floated around a lot,” Y/n began to mentally run through her old positions, “I managed small teams under a much larger umbrella of board members. Minor stuff. But in the public relations department, I’ve been in charge of social media campaigns, run a few accounts, and handled plenty of press conferences, interviews, that sort of thing.”

Keeley’s smile grew with each task that Y/n listed off. “I think you might be the most perfect fucking fit!”

Language, another unprofessionalism Y/n felt she was going to have to get used to.

“Before all of this happened,” Keeley gestured to the frilly space around them, “I did full time PR for AFC Richmond and did all that kind of stuff. That’s actually where I wanted to potentially start you off.”

Y/n shrugged, silently grateful she’d gone the extra mile with her research, “I’ll go anywhere you need me.”

“Perfect,” Keeley grinned, already getting off the couch, “I was actually heading over there for a meeting with Rebecca. It’d be a great opportunity to show you around and introduce you to some of the staff.”

“Uh, sure,” Y/n quickly picked her purse back off the floor.

“I really think you’re gonna love it there,” Keeley continued, collecting her bag and a pink binder, “I feel bad I’m not there full-time anymore. It really is one of the best places to work.”

As Keeley spoke, Y/n followed her out of the office. She struggled to keep up with how fast Keeley managed to move in her high heels. As they waited for the elevator to arrive, a brunette woman passed them by.

“Oh, Barbara,” Keeley called out, “I want you to meet the newest member of KJPR. This is Y/n.”

Barbara looked Y/n over from top to bottom as if inspecting the latest crop. Y/n’s confidence in her extended hand began to drop under the pair of judging eyes.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/n,” Barbara seemed to shake her hand with caution before turning to Keeley, “You didn’t mention anything about bringing on a new hire, Miss Jones.”

Keeley visibly shrank at Barbara’s words, “It was a spur of the moment thing.”

“Ah,” Barbara replied, turning back to Y/n, “May I ask what, if any, experience you have?”

Looking between Barbara and Keeley, Y/n listed off the positions she’d previously held and the companies names. With each title, Barbara’s frown turned into…something between a smile and a frown.

“Ah, well,” Barbara took a breath, “Lovely. Welcome to KJPR.”

With one more firm shake of her hand, Barbara departed, off to whatever task needed her attention. Keeley and Y/n were left in an awkward silence not of their creation.

“We’re still getting to know one another,” Keeley explained with a nervous smile.

“I got that,” Y/n nodded.

“Right,” Keeley shifted gears and gestured towards the elevator, “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

—————————

Richmond wasn’t far from the heart of London, where Y/n had spent most of her time. Functioning nearly exclusively within the corporate world had kept her within a bubble that rarely gave her opportunities to venture outside its walls.

As Keeley drove them through Richmond, making pleasant small talk, Y/n’s eyes were transfixed on the sights. Nothing was particularly extraordinary looking, but compared to the grays and blacks of London office buildings, the place was like a daydream someone like her might create during their 9-5.

“Do you live near here?”

“Hmm?” Y/n snapped out of her thoughts, “Oh, I’m about 30 minutes away. But I’ve never really spent any time here.”

“Oh, it’s lovely,” Keeley replied, turning them down another road, “You should take some time this weekend to roam around.”

Y/n filed the idea away, first she needed to confirm that AFC Richmond was the right fit.

Soon enough, Keeley pulled them into the parking lot of Nelson Road Stadium. Y/n recalled that she’d been there once to see a match with friends in college, but that had been on the spectator side. Parking mere feet away from the pitch felt surreal, even for a non-football fan.

“I’m gonna take you up to Rebecca first,” Keeley said as she shut her car door, “None of the players or coaches’ll be here since they’re still on break.”

Y/n followed alongside her, entering the stadium through the side doors. The inside of the building was painted in team colors of blue and red. Along the walls, there were trophies and framed pictures showcasing the Greyhound’s accomplishments over the decades. The history of the club was something Y/n had yet to do research on, but even ten minutes spent in the halls would tell her more than Wikipedia probably could.

Keeley led them up two flights of stairs till the colors of the walls changed to neutrals. The door at the top of the steps hung open, but Keeley still gave a courteous knock.

Rebecca looked up from her desk, smiling when she recognized the two guests. “Good morning,” she said, cheerily.

“Hi, babe,” Keeley smiled, “I brought Y/n with today. Thought it might be good for her to tour the place.”

“Of course,” Rebecca rose from her chair and met Keeley and Y/n in the middle of the room. She brought Y/n in for a half hug, half handshake, “I’m absolutely thrilled you’re here.”

“Oh,” Y/n smiled, awkwardly accepting the greeting, “I’m…pleased to be here.”

“Right,” Rebecca released her and gestured for the women towards the couch, “I’m not sure what Keeley has planned for you, but we’re never without work here.”

Before Y/n could voice her neutrality, Keeley spoke up.

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” she began, “I’d really like to have another pair of hands on the club, just in case there’s anything I might miss,” Keeley turned to Y/n, “I’d love to put you exclusively on Richmond duty.”

“Like I said, I’ll go where I’m needed,” Y/n raised both her hands in surrender to their plans.

Rebecca exhaled and grinned, “Perfect. Like I said, there’s never a shortage of work. With this being our first season back in the Premier League, there’s plenty of press to be handled.”

“I’m happy to go wherever I’m needed,” Y/n restated, deciding it was best to just go with the flow of things.

A knock at the door turned their attention.

“Good morning, ladies,” a shorter man sporting a suit and glasses entered the room.

“Higgins,” Keeley greeted.

“Good morning, Leslie,” Rebecca smiled, “I’d like you to meet KJPR, and Richmond’s, newest addition, Ms. Y/n Y/l/n. Leslie is our director of football operations.”

“Ah,” Higgins nodded, coming to the couch to extend his hand, “Welcome to the team, Ms. Y/l/n.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Y/n said politely, shaking his hand before sitting back down.

“Y/n will be helping Keeley handle the PR department,” Rebecca further explained, before her train of thought visibly halted, “Hang on…” she looked to Keeley, “Your old office is still vacant.”

Keeley gasped, “It is.”

Y/n’s eyes bounced back and forth between the woman.

“If Keeley can spare your presence at the KJPR office,” Rebecca placed a hand on her best friend’s arm, “How would you feel about working here?”

Searching for her words as quick as she could, Y/n shrugged one shoulder. “I’m completely fine with that,” she looked to her boss, “If Keeley’s alright with it.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Keeley smiled, “I’d actually love it if we had feet on the ground here.”

Y/n blinked. Just like that, everything was settled.

“Excellent,” Rebecca clapped her hands together once, “Shall we go for a tour?”

“Ah, that was going to be my suggestion,” Higgins spoke back up.

Never before had Y/n been swept up so quickly in a job. Nothing moved that fast in the corporate world.

Keeley, Rebecca and Higgins led her back down to the main floor of the facility. Higgins and Rebecca spouted off a few historical facts about Richmond that Y/n logged away. Rebecca reiterated Keeley’s earlier statement that since they were still on break, Y/n wouldn’t be meeting the players and the coaching staff until training began the following week. Nonetheless, Y/n felt like she was somehow encroaching on the Greyhound’s territory as the tour led to the locker room.

“This will be the only time you enter and the smell is pleasant,” Rebecca quipped.

Y/n chuckled, her heels clicking against the floor as she scanned the numbers above each locker.

“Any favorites amongst our Greyhounds?” Higgins asked playfully.

“Oh, no,” Y/n paused to answer, just below Jamie Tartt’s ‘9.’

“Y/n has openly admitted to not having partaken in much of the sport,” Rebecca added.

“But I’m very excited to make Richmond my club,” Y/n was quick to do damage control over what her tipsier self had admitted, “I think what you all have accomplished here is brilliant.”

The sound of a door opening on the other side of the locker room turned their heads. A man jogged into the coach’s office, bending over one of the desks in search of something.

“That’s odd,” Rebecca muttered, stepping forward and opening up the connecting door, “Ted, what are you doing here?”

Y/n followed Keeley and Higgins’ lead and entered the room. She could finally get a clear view at the man who was, indeed, Ted Lasso.

“Oh, last time he was visiting, Henry left somethin’ in my desk and we needed to come grab it,” Ted answered, searching through one of his drawers until he retrieved whatever he was seeking.

“Ah, well, lovely timing,” Rebecca gestured for Y/n to come forward, “You can meet the newest addition to AFC Richmond. This is Ms. Y/n Y/l/n. She’ll be helping Keeley head up the PR department.”

Ted gave a friendly smile and stuck out his hand, “Well, how ‘bout that? Welcome to the family! I’m Ted.”

Y/n gave a firm handshake and returned the smile, “Y/n.”

The simple utterence of her name caught Ted’s ear. “Hang on now,” he stopped and held up both his hands, “Am I dreamin’ or do I actually hear a lack of accent?”

The five of them laughed to varying degrees. “It’s nice to hear a little bit of home for me as well,” Y/n said warmly. It had been at least four months since she’d met someone who hailed from the states that wasn’t a tourist.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” Ted continued, still shaking Y/n’s hand, “It’s gonna be real nice to have someone around here who’ll understand what I’m sayin’. Like if I text the word ‘color,’ nobody’s gonna tell me it ain’t the right spelling. Or if I mention Chick-Fil-A, they won’t think I’m just shortenin’ the name of a delicious entree. Matter a fact,” Ted came up for a lightning quick breath, “Where we at with that? Is it still okay to eat there? Waters were a little murky ‘round the time I left.

Y/n was trying to process the speed in which the man spoke. “Uh, I don’t know,” she answered politely, “I haven’t been home in a while.”

Ted hummed in reply and moved on, “Well, we’re real happy that you’re here. Hey, you need anything, don’t be afraid to gimme a holler.”

“That’s very kind,” Y/n nodded as Ted finally released her hand, “Thank you.”

“Well, I gotta run,” Ted announced to his co-workers, “I got Liam out there watchin’ Henry. See y’all next week!”

With a chorus of farewells following him, Ted Lasso walked back out the way he’d come.

“Well,” Y/n began, trying to sum up her first impression as tidily as she could, “That was-“

“I felt the same way at first,” Rebecca interjected, “But truly, one of the nicest human beings you will ever meet.”

“Oh, yeah,” Keeley agreed, sweeping her hand through the air, “Seriously, spend one day with him and he’ll be your emergency contact by lunch.”

“The players love him,” Higgins added to their defense.

But it wasn’t Ted’s personality Y/n was startled by. Ted was the midwest personified, that was all familiar. It was the speed in which Ted had offered up his kindness, how at ease he was voicing every thought on his mind. That, to Y/n, was more disarming than anything else he could have done.

“Well, I look forward to getting to know him more,” Y/n said, and there was truth to it. She appreciated co-workers who were actually pleasant to be around, even if Ted was a lot to take, “And the other coaches.”

“Why don’t I show you where your office is?” Rebecca suggested.

Their welcome wagon moved up to the second floor where, at the end of the hall, lay the space in question. It was half the size of Rebecca’s office, which was more than enough for Y/n. She’d last been in a shared cubicle far too small for two people to comfortably fit.

“My office is just at the end of the hall,” Higgins said as Y/n took in the space, “If you ever need anything.”

“It’s lovely,” Y/n smiled, her eyes running over her desk. She turned back towards the door and faced Rebecca, Keeley and Higgins, “Thank you all so much for all the hospitality you’ve shown.”

“Nonsense,” Higgins spoke for the trio, “You’re part of the family now.”

The same unease that had come from interacting with Ted Lasso filled Y/n once again.

The rest of the day was spent bouncing between Keeley and Higgins, discussing PR strategies for the new season and learning about the club’s operations. By the time 5:00 came around, Y/n felt like she had information spilling out of her ears. Her mind was filled to its brim.

After Keeley dropped her back off at the KJPR office, telling her she dazzled on her first day and wishing her a good evening, Y/n hopped in her car and drove right back to Richmond. She had no dinner plans and thought Keeley’s idea to explore the city worthwhile.

She decided on the pub they’d driven past on their way to Nelson Road, the Crown and Anchor. With it being a weeknight, it wasn’t too crowded, and she found a spot at the bar, ordering a sandwich for herself.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” the woman tending bar said after Y/n had placed her order, “You new to town, love?”

“Oh, no,” Y/n shook her head before scrunching her eyebrows, “Well, sort of. I live closer to the city but I just started a job here.”

“Ah,” the white haired woman replied as she filled a pint, handing it to a customer, “Where at?”

Y/n wasn’t entirely sure what the rules were about working for a football club. Were you supposed to go around sharing that information? Or did it mean you’d have thirty drunken fans hounding you for tickets suddenly?

“AFC Richmond,” she answered truthfully, “Public relations.”

The woman’s eyebrows raised an inch, seemingly impressed. “Well, that’s the right answer to get your meal on the house.”

Y/n laughed a little, relaxing slightly.

“Good first day then?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Y/n bobbed her head from side to side, “I mean, I really just met co-workers and learned the basics. No complaints so far.”

“Did you meet Ted yet?”

“I did,” Y/n answered, slightly confused, “You know Coach Lasso?”

The woman pointed towards the pub doors, “Lives on just the other side of the building. Comes in a couple nights a week. He’s a good man.”

“That he is,” Y/n nodded, not wanting to tarnish anyone’s reputation with her own discomforts, “Definitely tries to make you feel welcome.”

“Oh,” the woman was now coming to lean against Y/n’s side of the bar, “He won’t stop until you know you’re welcomed. Best to just let it happen. Whatever he’s done to Richmond, it works.”

It hadn’t escaped Y/n’s notice that in the two seasons Ted Lasso had been coaching the Greyhounds, there was a shift in…everything. Between videos of the players on the pitch, to little stories interspersed in her conversations with Rebecca, Keeley and Higgins throughout the day, Y/n was given the impression that Ted Lasso was a miracle worker. It didn’t take much thought to deduce that Ted was going to try and integrate her into their team as well.

“Well,” Y/n shrugged slightly, seeing that her sandwich was coming around from the kitchen, “I mean, it’s just a job. It’s not supposed to change your life or anything.”

Just as she was about to be handed her meal, the white haired woman took it from the waiter’s hands. Y/n could tell she wasn’t getting her food until the bartender had spoken her piece.

“You just watch out, love,” the woman warned with a smile, “Whole city hated Ted when he arrived, and now take a look.”

She gestured to the space around the bar as if Y/n was supposed to be seeing the peace.

“The best things that happen to us are usually the most unexpected,” she continued, giving her a wink.

Y/n drew a breath, locking onto the woman’s every syllable.

“You’re part of Richmond now,” the woman continued on, “Whether it changes your life or not isn’t up to you.”

Without another word, the woman set Y/n’s sandwich in front of her and went off to tend to another patron.

Y/n was fearful to move, lest the bartender’s words appear in thin air and smack her thoughts into line. What was this strange hold the word ‘Richmond’ seemed to have on people? Y/n had lived long enough in England to know how passionate people got about their football clubs, but this was different. This was dedication separate from the sport itself, rather devotion to the inner workings. To the coaches. To the heart of AFC Richmond itself.

Higgin’s words came back to her, part of the family. It all filled Y/n with an anxiety she’d never quite been able to put a name to.

Regardless of what the culture was, on and off the pitch, she was determined to keep to herself. Interact pleasantly with her co-workers and the team, but no more than necessary. Be proficient at the tasks given to her. Stay in her lane.

Family or not, Y/n decided as she bit into her dinner, she was there to do a job and nothing more.

——————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94

[mapileonxputellas]

Confusion (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Loved this request but I kind of struggled writing it. Definitely not my best work but I got it completed. Request can be found here. 2.4k words x

It’s weird how one single comment can make you question everything in life.

How one single question made Leah wonder if she’d read the signals wrong all this time.

You were all enjoying your night. A games night planned for weeks before the Champions League games against Wolfsburg, a night meant to be fun and light-hearted before you concentrated on final few games of the season.

You and Leah were cuddled up on one of Katie’s sofas, the two of you having teamed up for the game of trivial pursuit. However whilst everyone else was concentrated on the game the two of you were in your own little world, a glass of wine shared between the two of you as well as frequent whispers and giggles as you both stayed on the tipsy side of drunk. Though on days like today you were teased endlessly for it, it was clear as day to all your teammates how in love you both were.

Having ditched the quiz game the group then moved on to a set of ‘who’s most likely’ questions Beth had found on her phone. It was all going well, the questions stayed light and no-one was offended, up until now.

“Who’s most likely to have the most kids?” Beth read out.

“Y/N.” You were slightly bombarded with the flood of responses of your name. Though the odd other name was thrown out, over 75% of the group said your name, including, all though in her head, Leah.

So it couldn’t have shocked her more when you scoffed. “You’ve got that wrong.”

“What do you only want one?” Jen questioned. “Two?”

“More like none.”

“You don’t want kids?” Manu asked.

“Not really. I’ve never really seen myself having kids. I’m happy with Ted.” You said referring to the cockapoo you had recently adopted with Leah.

If you hadn’t have been distracted by the next question maybe you would have noticed the way Leah frowned at your answer. Maybe you would have noticed the way her arm slightly loosened around you, the way she couldn’t bare to look your way. The pure confusion she felt in her mind.

Sadly for her though it seemed that Beth was out to drop as many bombshells as possible. “Who’s the most likely to get married first.”

“Leah and Y/N.” It was clear you were within the top two answers with a few others suggesting Katie and Manu. The spluttering of your name made you nervous and you genuinely didn’t expect to even be suggested for that one, I mean the two of you weren’t even engaged.

All of this just made you uncomfortable, you’d never really thought about any of these next steps when both you and Leah were in the peak of your career. The business end of the season was coming and then the both of you would only have a few weeks alone together before you were back in your separate national team camps. It didn’t seem like something either one of you needed right now. You were happier than ever just how it was right now.

“Can I be a bridesmaid?” Beth asked wrapping her arm around you.

“I’m not getting married so sadly that won’t happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I just don’t think it’s important. I don’t yeah, I just don’t think about it.”

These thoughts swirling around your head distracted you from noticing Leah’s withdrawal from you. From the way she detached herself from you to grab some drinks to the space separating you once she returned.

You didn’t notice something was fully wrong until you got in the uber on the way home. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for Leah to get a bit handsy after a few drinks but tonight she couldn’t seem to even look at you.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered, gently kissing her shoulder, an action which was greeted by her shrugging you off immediately. “Leah?”

“I think I’m going to go back to my mum’s tonight.”

“What why? It’s late Leah,” You tried to reason but she still wouldn’t even look at you. “I can see something’s upset you.”

“It’s nothing, leave it alone.”

“Leah.”

“Leave it, I’m fine I just want to spend the night with my mum, she wanted to see me.” She lied, trying to force a pained smile on her face.

“If you’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” She agreed, seeing your shared apartment building coming into view but not budging from her seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you.” You couldn’t let her leave obviously upset without saying something. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you too.”

……

Whist you struggled to get to sleep that night, the soft snores from Ted the only sound in the room as you tried to work out what had happened. You had both been fine most of the night and then suddenly she was upset and didn’t want to speak to you.

You tried not to panic but this was very unusual for you both. The two of you were very level headed and after being together for five years you were both very stable in your relationship, you couldn’t imagine life without her now. You’d moved in with each other three years ago and made the next big step in adopting Ted just over six months ago.

“What’s going on with your mama hey?” You whispered mindlessly raking your fingers through his fur. “We love her though don’t we, she’s just silly.”

Meanwhile only a few miles away the very said woman was curled up in her mother’s bed, a mug of hot chocolate in her lap as her mum tried to calm down her sobs.

“I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” Amanda whispered, letting her daughter curl up against her. “Why don’t you tell me from the start?”

“We were playing this game and then someone mentioned children, suddenly Y/N just came out and said she didn’t want children.” Leah explained. “We’ve never had the conversation but I just always presumed she wanted them. She’s so good with kids mum, you’ve seen her with babies and children. I just always saw them with us eventually, in the future.”

“Have you talked to her about this?”

“I was going to but then someone mentioned marriage and she just freaked out almost, she didn’t say a word but you could just see on her face she didn’t agree. She almost looked, I don’t know disgusted. Then Beth asked her and she said it wasn’t important, like she doesn’t want to get married. Mum I’ve got the ring and she’s saying things like that.”

“She might not have meant it that way.”

“I just feel like I don’t even know her anymore, I thought I knew everything about her but it turns out I don’t know anything at all, not the important bits anyway. I want to marry the girl and she probably doesn’t even want that now.”

“Leah you’ve been with her for five years, talk to her. Don’t let these thoughts go around your head when it could all be for nothing.” Amanda reasoned. “Sleep here tonight and then go home tomorrow and talk to her. She loves you Leah, more than I’ve ever seen anyone before. Don’t let this ruin it without knowing everything.”

Before tossing and turning trying to get to sleep she glanced down at her phone, a picture of the two of you in front of the Eiffel tower brightening the room, a massive smile on both of your faces as you looked at one another rather than the camera.

Maybe you weren’t as happy as you looked in that moment and that scared her more than anything ever had. You were her world and she could only hope that you were too.

……

You managed to get a few hours of light sleep, waking up every couple of hours almost in hope that you could find Leah next to you. By the next morning though the place next to you was still untouched and the bed felt cold without her. Your mind couldn’t help but worry about whether your relationship was at risk right now even as you tried everything to distract yourself. By 11 you’d already taken Ted on a walk, cleaned the whole apartment and got started on your tea for tonight. You’d messaged Leah to wish her good morning and telling her to ring you but you were yet to get a reply.

The eerie silence in the apartment though meant you were instantly on edge when you heard the door go just before you were about to start on lunch.

“Hey.” You whispered when the blonde came into view, the bags under her eyes a tell-tale sign that she hadn’t got much more sleep than you. “Why don’t you go and sit down, I’ll make us both a tea.”

“Y/N….”

“Tea first.” You ordered, a teasing smile on your face to try and break the awkward silence. Leah thankfully agreed and went into the living room giving you enough time to give yourself a pep talk, Leah was your world and no matter what the issue is you would do your utmost to resolve it. You couldn’t stall this conversation any longer though and once the kettle had boiled and you quickly made up the teas you made your way over, finding her on the sofa. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s funny my mum said the same thing last night.”

“What can I say, good minds think alike.” You tried to joke but you didn’t even manage to get a smile out of her. “Leah, tell me.”

“You never told me you didn’t want kids.” She came out with and you almost wanted to sigh realising what all this was about.

“That’s what this is about?”

“And you never said you didn’t want to get married.”

“Leah we’ve never had those conversations, did you want me to make it clear on the first date.”

“Don’t joke.” Maybe you made a mistake in trying to lighten the mood when you saw the tears starting to build up.

“Leah.” You tried to comfort her, moving to grab her hand but she moved it before you could. “Can I explain?”

“There’s not much to explain is there, you don’t want kids, I do. You don’t want to get married, I do.”

“You never told me that either.”

“I thought it was obvious, then again I thought you wanted kids. Y/N you’re always around kids.”

“I’m around kids because I have to be. Maybe it came out wrong last night, it’s not that I don’t want kids ever but right now I don’t and that means that right now I can’t see myself being a mother. That’s what I meant. My mum had me very young and they were always busy, they never had time for me. I’ve seen the difference with my sister and I want that.” You explained. “I want to be there for every moment and we couldn’t truly do that right now. We’re both footballers, we’re sometimes away three times a week. I don’t want that for any potential child.”

“Y/N….” Leah could her almost the pain in your voice and it made her want to cry at the anguish you must have felt at being labelled that in the game.

“I just don’t understand why you didn’t talk to me about this.”

“I was going to and then they started talking about marriage.” You could read Leah like a book and you knew from her face that this was the real problem for her by her reaction.

“I didn’t know it was that big of an issue for you. We’ve never really talked about getting married.”

“Obviously because it isn’t important to you.”

“Can you understand that for me though? For me it’s not important, I’ve watched so many people get divorced and it’s almost lost that specialness. Plus I grew up thinking I wouldn’t be able to get married to another woman. Leah I want to be with you for the rest of my life, I don’t need some wedding certificate to allow that to happen.”

“What if I wanted to get married?”

“Then we’ll talk about it. I’m not against marriage, really I’m not. I just see it as more of a celebration of love rather than this like long term commitment because I already am committed to you. Please know that.” You told her, making the move to wrap your arms around her and thankfully she responded by resting her head on your chest. “I love you so much and I think last night maybe it seemed like I was scared of commitments or making those next steps with you but I’m not. I know I want to be with you forever and if those steps come then I’ll be more than happy to experience them all with you.”

“I just feel like it would mean more to me than to you.”

“Leah you don’t know how honoured I would be to be your wife, to show everyone how much I love you. I just want you to know, I don’t know who’s going to propose, but if you want to, marry me because you love me so much, marry me because you want to celebrate our love. It’s a commitment but know that to me it means more than that, it’s about our love. I don’t know if I’m making sense right now but hopefully you get me.” You leaned your head down to connect your lips with Leah’s. “Please just speak to me next time because we’re a team now.”

“I’m sorry.” She apologised.

“We’re good now, don’t worry and I’m sorry for upsetting you.” You apologised too. “I never meant for it to be that way.”

“I understand you now but I know I couldn’t love you more than I love you now. I adore everything about you Y/N and I can’t wait for the future with you, whatever it holds.”

“I love you more.”

[patrollingboston]

*turns on the megaphone*

Simon and his wifey have disaster twins!

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

Double Trouble // Simon x Reader fluff

Thank you for your request! I wanted to include their reactions to finding out as well as a glimpse into daily life for them. Hope you enjoy!

Simon and you had been married for 4 years. It wasn’t a normal marriage by any means, he was often deployed leaving you to amble through life without him by your side for most months of the year. You didn’t mind your own company, you met up with friends and family regularly, caring for yours and Simon’s cat counting down the days until he was home again. It was a quiet and lonely life at times but you understood how much his career meant to him, this was all until one specific night you and Simon shared together landing you in a hospital room at your 12-week pregnancy scan.

“You, okay?”

Simon asked, his deep voice echoing through the eerily clinicals walls as he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder reassuringly. You laid on the bed, the paper scrunching up underneath your back as you waited anxiously for the Doctor to return.

“I’m alright, just a bit jittery.”

You replied giving an uncertain smile towards him, he had managed to get a few days off of work so he could accompany you to the scan. Today was the day you found out the gender of your baby, you and Simon agreed it was best to know now so you could both prepare.

“Right! We all ready in here?”

The doctor came charging back in the room pushing the thick wooden door closed behind her, she sat herself on a stool and wheeled over to you laying on the bed.

“Think so.”

You said with a smile, looking up and making eye contact with Simon. The doctor rolled up your t shirt exposing your stomach to the cold hospital air.

“Are we wanting to know if it’s a boy or girl today?”

She said, squeezing the gel onto your stomach the temperature startling you.

“Uh yes we would like to know.”

Simon spoke up his eyes fixed on the little tv screen the Doctor had wheeled over towards the two of you.

“Can you hear the heartbeat?”

The two of you nodded in sync as you heard the familiar rumble erupt from the machine before a second sounding noise adjoined it.

“What’s the other noise?”

You asked curiously, peeking your head up to get a closer look at the monitor.

“That is uh.. a second heartbeat. You are having healthy twins how wonderful! Can you see baby number 2 hidden in the back there?”

“Wait what?”

Simon said, his demeanour going from relaxed to suddenly tensing up, his grip on your shoulder becoming tighter.

“Twins, see?”

“You’re serious?”

You said now sitting up fully to inspect the monitor, half of you believed this Doctor was speaking nonsense until your eyes saw a second shadow on the tv. Feeling overwhelmed your eyes began to well up, you reached your hand up to grab Simon’s arm for support.

“Fully, would you like to know the genders?”

You both nodded once again.

“In my opinion it looks like two baby girls.”

You slapped a hand to your chest making an ‘awh’ sound, you had always wanted a daughter, now you were going to have two at once. Simon, who was not saying a word, continued to stare at the monitor in amazement.

“We are having twin girls?”

He finally spoke up, clearing his throat and turning to face you. In that moment you both felt such gratitude and shock for the news of two healthy baby girls that you both forgot about the logistics of the entire situation for a few moments.

One year later

“Si, can you bring me a tea towel she’s chucked tomato sauce in my eye.”

You yelled through the kitchen as you dabbed your face, sauce dripping down onto your t shirt as your baby Emily giggled sat in her highchair in the background.

“I can’t love, Chloe’s got a hold of my phone and won’t give it up.”

Simon yelled back from the living room sounding out of breath followed by a few crashing sounds as you assumed he was chasing Chloe round for his phone back. The twins had just learned to walk, and throw apparently causing a nightmare for the both of you.

Simon had returned from deployment a few weeks ago, he was descended straight into the chaos of raising your two twins. You stumbled blindly round the kitchen trying to find something to wipe your face on as you heard the pitter patter of feet coming towards you.

“Mama look.”

Chloe gurgled handing you what you assumed was Simon’s phone.

“What have we said about taking people’s things hey?”

You said in a sterner tone, Simon following into the kitchen behind. You handed him his phone back and he slid it back into his pocket before grabbing a square of kitchen roll and wiping your face for you.

“And you, what have we said about throwing stuff?”

He asked in a soft tone towards your daughter Emily, who was still finding the situation hilarious. He stepped over Chloe who was now playing sat on the kitchen tiles with the cat before reaching his arms out and scooping Emily up in them.

“I’m so glad to have you back Si.”

You said, exhaustion creeping throughout your brain as you rubbed your temples.

“I’ve missed my girls too.”

He said a wide smile spreading across his cheeks as he looked at his daughter placed upon his hip and then towards Chloe sat on the floor. It was a chaotic life for you two currently, but it was yours and no one else’s and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

[spookynstarbuck]

I’m like, genuinely so sad about that ending. Why spend so much time gaining the trust of your audience in regards to ensuring that you will treat your characters with love and kindness, only to do such a disservice to so many of them? Why make a show whose entire premise is based on relationships and character development, only to undo so much of it in the last ten minutes? Why start your show with a character being asked to leave by his ex-wife, only to end up ignoring the pleas to stay from someone who loves him? Why establish a home and found family, and a solution to include his son in this new life, just to undo all of it?

Why have your female lead whose journey has been in part about deeply yearning for a meaningful “thunder and lightning” romantic relationship end up with a nameless character with no discernible personality that has 5-10 minutes of screen time in one episode halfway through the last season? Why center season 3 on the development of Jamie and his relationship w Roy only to have them get into a physical fight over a girl, whom neither of them ends up with definitively anyways? Why have him make that gross and mean comment about the leaked video? Why show him building a new friendship w Keely only to reveal that he actually is still trying to fuck her?

I get the idea of Ted being a Mary Poppins, but that doesn’t work so well when many of the characters don’t really get happy endings, and he returns to a life without a majority of the relationships that have been the center of the show being intact. Also, this concept is undermined by the fact that he did not have to leave! Mary Poppins leaves bc she is a magical being and she has to! A completely feasible solution was offered to Ted to stay and he didn’t even consider it. Also, why did he seem so hollow and checked out for so much of the episode? His lack of emotional response to any of his goodbyes felt so strange. Also, he wasn’t even at Beard’s shitty green screen wedding? Also, Beard left Ted to marry his lowkey abusive girlfriend?

And WHY bring Nora Ephron and soulmates into all of it for exactly zero payoff? You don’t get to say “rom-communism” and not have one single well-explored and established romantic journey with a happy ending. The magic of Nora Ephron is that soulmates are real and endings are happy; that when she shows you two people are meant for each other, that is exactly what you can expect to see. So like, literally why bother bringing those concepts into this show and highlighting them so often only to completely abandon them?

[kneelingshadowsalome]

i love your works and your toxic könig so much 😭 for some reason in my head könig was always like a puppy in love even outside of aus but i like to imagine him like this sometimes.

basically if he feels abandoned bc you were busy with something else (literally taking a shower for like 10 minutes or not looking at him while he was talking) he will start crying and needs you to kiss him a bunch of times and tell him he's your favourite boy baby husband man boyfriend sweetheart for like an hour lol. he literally can't stand it if he can't touch you or talk to you for long periods of time (let's say the reader is a civilian and könig often has missions he has to leave for). he literally goes insane and keeps rereading those screenshots of loving messages from you he has an entire folder on his phone for, literally he convinced himself that you've already left him for someone else and is now going to be crying himself to sleep.

when he does return he's literally scared, so it feels like you attached him to yourself physically and that's why he never leaves your side. always holding hands, könig always being there even if your have to move around the house a lot or do the most mundane tasks even if he himself has chores or things he needs to do. kind of creepy bc he's just silent but feels like he'll die if you disappear from his line of sight for more than two seconds.

even aside from that listening to you talk fondly of someone, anyone really: a friend (if he lets you have them), a random cashier (if he wasn't there with you to talk to them instead of you), a relative (if he even allows you to talk to your family) he's so!!! like hurt and upset and goes quiet for long periods of time.

like eyes red from crying, nose stuffed and he's like "i'm fine nothing is wrong" then goes back to crying somewhere more private.

and this kind of behaviour makes sex kind of uncomfortable Sometimes. he often needs you to repeat that you're his, only his, you can't look away from him, you HAVE to be holding his hand when he fucks you but somehow it's a 50/50 when it comes to power dynamics.

either he manhandles you and shows you that he's the only man, the only person you could ever need or love and that he won't ever let you leave him; or he's completely subby, like "please hold my face and kiss me while you're riding me for as long as you want, i'm only yours and i wanna show that" kind of way.

i am insane basically thank you for coming to my ted talk.

This was one of the best Ted talks I've ever been to! I loved every word, every second of it!! 🥳🥹 My god, I want more... I need me some encore now.

I love subby König, holy Christ. And tbh... what's beneath the toxic, crazy killing machine König is someone who is horribly, and I mean HORRIBLY love-deprived and touch-starved and super duper insecure. Which means there's bound to be some subby behavior leaking through toxic König too!

König would so need to have you on his sights at all times. And when he's working, it's annoying because... he loves his work but now he's just thinking about you. What are you doing at this very moment..? Have you talked to someone today? A friend, a colleague, a family member? A stranger??

Do you sleep ok without him (because he doesn't, he just tosses and turns in his bunk/cot/the ground all night when you're not there), and why haven't you sent a text today? He's gonna call you as soon as he gets somewhere more private.

The longer the mission lasts, the more sullen and broody he gets. After a few days, he kills his enemies with a thousand yard stare only because they're basically what's between him and his squeeze.

And yes he has to touch you like a thousand times a day or just watch your every move when he finally gets home. If you're in the bathroom too long he comes to knock on the door and ask if everything's alright (you ran there to have a moment's peace from this big cuddly behemoth who looks at you with that creepy batless obsessive stare... frankly it's disturbing)

And oh my god stop – holding hands during sex? Oh my god. Imagine him bordering on being rough (because he's *missed* you goddammit 👿) while wanting to entwine your fingers together✨️. Toxic König is a huge romantic, even if the "romantic" things he does are a bit... questionable. And he wouldn't shut up during the first round after he got home!

"Say that you missed me,"

"Tell me you're mine... Say it. Now,"

"You're always teasing me,"

would be some of the things he'd say during pounding you to his heart's content. (And you wouldn't even know how you've "teased" him this time... Like... He's the one who left for a week long mission...? 🤨)

After sex he would be so much gentler, but no less demanding and whiny. He needs so much validation and gets odd and grumpy if you don't give him some. If you'd try to domme him though, he would become even more unbearable (being a sub is this man's secret fantasy but he doesn't even know it himself).

[melancholy-valley]

Enough for me. (Roy Kent x Fem!Reader)

pairing: (Coach) Roy Kent x Fem. reader

word count: 824 words.

warnings: roy being sad/doubting himself, roy x reader fluff, reader comforting roy, slight sexual themes suggested (near the end), roy hating on trent crimm

a/n: hi!! this is my first ever fic so... pls be gentle. this fic is based on season 3 episode 2 of ted lasso. thanks for clicking on my post out of the millions, i appreciate you :)

summary: roy comes home, frustrated and in need of some comfort after a confrontation with trent crimm about the column he wrote on roy's premier league debut.

It was a normal day- mundane if anything. You had not too long ago returned home from work, now lazily being slumped over the couch scrolling on social media. Your shared home with the newest coach of AFC Richmond was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Roy, you expected, would be home soon, probably coming through the door stringing curses together. Something of course happened at work, the only question was who exactly he would be pissed at this time.

Just as the scenario of an angry Roy played in your head, he walked through the door. You chirped up, happy to see him after a long day, when you noticed the down look of his face. It was less angry and more...disappointed? "Hey, Roy" You spoke, gently due to the unawareness of what was happening. As you stood up and walked toward him, his eyes planted on the ground, you noticed closer the expression splayed on his face. His brows were furrowed, and he seemed to be in a deep solemn thought. It was only when you lightly touched his harm that he seemed to snap out of his thoughts.

You offered him a comforting smile, "You alright? Talk to me." After you spoke, you moved behind him, beginning to take of his coat. "I don't know." He finally spoke, his tone being gentle. Silence filled the air for a brief moment until he spoke again, "Can I ask you something?" He was now meeting your gaze. "You know you can."

"Do you think I'm good? Like, good enough?" What? A puzzled look fell over your face, and he spoke again before you got the chance to. "I don't know- fuck. It's hard to explain." His gaze diverted once again, now focusing on his fingernails he softly picked at. "Roy, I'm not sure what's going on, but you can talk to me. What happened today?"

"Today was fucking fine. It was normal until that prick Crimm had to interfere." he paused, alternating his eyes from you and the floor, "It's bad enough he prances around the fucking place like he owns it, but today he just had to come talk to me and shit." He picked at his fingernails, a little rougher this time, and you could tell he was wallowing in a mixture of hate for both Crimm and what had gone down today.

You knew he wasn't very fond of Crimm, but not exactly why. You had always figured it was because he was a-in his words-pretentious dick. But this was deeper than that, you just had a feeling. You shot Roy a concerned look. He slowly reached for his wallet and drew out a slip of paper, placing it in your hand and urging you to read it.

What welcomed you was a small excerpt claiming "Newcomer Roy Kent is an overhyped, so-called prodigy whose unbridled rage and mediocre talent rendered his Premiere League debut a profound disappointment.” As soon as you read it, you shot Roy a sad glance. You were angry for him, not believing someone had the will to write such negativity.

"Crimm wrote that." He paused to take the small slip out of your hand. "I was 17, and I had just started playing. Seven fucking teen." He gritted his teeth, grimacing. You rubbed his arm, waiting for him to start again. "I have been living my life since then feeling like I was shit. Then today Crimm revealed he did it just to be 'edgy' and make a name for himself."

Not knowing exactly what to say, you continued to rub his arm. "Roy I'm so sorry. I can't imagine the dejection you’ve been feeling all these years.” He gave you a weird look, a mixture of solemn and happy.

“You know what I really can’t believe? I kind of want to forgive his ass.” You were shocked at what you could assume was Ted’s influence. “Really?” He nodded. “As much as I don’t want to fucking admit it, yeah. He was trying to do his job I guess. I just wish he would have picked on..some other prick, I don’t know.” He was now stifling chuckles, just as shocked from the situation.

“You know what Roy?” you spoke, not breaking eye contact. “Hm?” He tilted his head. “I’m proud of you for coming to that conclusion. You could have blown up, yeah? Been angry, upset. But you handled it all well.” Your graze moving up from his arm, now on his cheek. A good minute passed as you enjoyed holding his rough face.

He leaned down to kiss you. It was gentle and sweet, spreading a honeyed heat through your being. He continued placing small kisses on your face, your neck. Slowly turning into esurient nibbles.

“I fucking love you.” He spoke through kisses.

“I love you too.” You felt him smile against your skin. “And Roy?”

“Mhm?”

“You will always be enough for me. Always.”

[s0ftl3]

𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝑺𝒎𝒐𝒌𝒆

Summary: You and ted spend an evening at home getting high and one thing leads to another.

Warnings: NSFW, Dry humping, drug use, praise kink, degradation (if you squint), choking

A/N: not proof read, and I hope this is okay for my first work I don’t usually write this stuff down so uhhhh yeah. I had no idea how to end this comments and tips are greatly appreciated!!

You’re eyelids are already heavy and your body’s buzzing from your oncoming high. Ted’s head is tilted back, resting on the back of the couch as you sit in his lap so pretty. You’re not sure what it is about being high that makes you so needy over everything about him but you’re not complaining.

Your thoughts are interrupted by his palms slinging over your hips coming to rest on your waist. The sheer difference in size almost makes you cum on the fucking spot. You’re sure at this point he can feel the wet spot forming between the two of you.

“See something you like?” He’s got a dumb lazy smile on his face as he looks down at you. He knows damn well you like everything you see. From his pretty face to dick print you can feel hardening under you.

You return the dumb smile. “Mmm I definitely feel something I like.” You grind your hips down onto him teasingly and are rewarded with a soft groan from him. His fingertips burst the hem of your lounge shorts that do hardly anything to cover your ass.

He pulls you into a heated kiss gabbing your ass tightly, his dick twitches in his shorts as your pulled farther down onto him.

“You’re so fucking pretty baby,” he mouths at your throat leaving pretty marks in his lips’s wake, “my pretty little slut.”

You can’t help the heat that spreads across your face as you grip his shoulders. His fingers dip below the hem of your shorts grabbing handfuls of your ass, urging to to grind lazily against him. You let out a small whimper as you comply rolling your hips against his, eyes rolling back at the friction.

“Good girl, that’s it grind on my cock,” he words are praises but they feel almost degrading in a way, “doing such a good fucking job baby.”

“Mh.. Ted please.” the friction is good but it’s not quite enough and you want so desperately for him to wrap one of those big hands around your throat.

Ted smirks clearly finding your desperation amusing, “please what baby? Tell me what my pretty slut needs.” He makes it harder on you by bucking his hips into yours, watching you struggle to form your words.

You pout, he knows what you want, why does he have to make it so difficult for you. “Teddy please, want you to choke me.” You whine out in hopes he’ll take pity on you and just give you what you want. Thankfully he does and wraps his fingers around your throat squeezing with just the right amount of pressure that makes you see stars.

He knows all you need to cum is one of his big hands squeezing your pretty little throat, and he knows your in no position to hold off your orgasm. So, he lets you cum all over his thighs. “My girl looks so pretty when she makes a fucking mess.”

[its-time-to-write]

hello i have a request for an idea i literally cannot get out of my head: jamie and a partner who is really into knitting/crocheting and they knit him something as a gift and the fluffiness that ensues xxx

this was a v cute ask!! Here you go!

glitter on the floor

Knitting is a luxury, something you only do when you have a good chunk of time set aside. You’ll pull out a project while watching a movie and each time without fail, Jamie Tartt will give you puppy dog eyes and ask, “Is that for me?”

It never is.

That’s because you’ve been working on something for him for Christmas, and you’re pretty sure it’s your best work yet. 

You and Jamie are planning on having a tiny Christmas celebration, just the two of you, before he’s off to Manchester and you’re on a plane to your parents. You’re going to put on matching pajamas and sit by the Christmas tree and eat a shit-ton of snacks, because you’re both adults who can do what you want, and what you want to do is gorge yourselves on everything you definitely shouldn’t have.

So here you are, a week before Christmas, all cozy at home exchanging gifts and giggling about what comes after presents, which may may not be a variation of sexy Christmas that you stole from Keeley. 

“Open this one next,” you say, handing Jamie a particularly interesting package. 

You’re grinning, but there’s something sinister in your eyes. Jamie’s not sure what to make of it because it’s Christmas, or at least it almost is, so why are you looking at him like a cat that just ate the family goldfish?

He hesitantly takes the proffered package, perfectly wrapped in forest green with a bright white bow. He unwraps it carefully, sets the ribbon aside, and opens a box to reveal- 

A sweater. 

He exhales a little. Oh good, it’s just a sweater. But your eyes are still gleaming so he’s sure there’s more to it, especially because you’re practically vibrating from the effort of keeping yourself from laughing. 

Jamie pulls the sweater from the box and it unfolds, revealing the fact that it is a couple sizes too large for him. But you’ve obviously made it so he’s going to like it anyway. 

“Turn it around,” you say before he can give you his appreciation. Jamie complies, to reveal words stitched to the front in flowing script. 

this is our Get Along sweater

“Ask me what it’s for,” you command gleefully and Jamie’s pretty sure he’s never seen you this silly, so he bites. 

“Alright, what the fuck is this for?” he asks, matching your grin. 

You have to bite back a laugh. “Ok so remember how we talked about you being an only child? But I had siblings and our parents had to figure out creative ways to discipline us? One of the ways was a ‘get-along’ shirt. The two of us who were fighting had to wear the same shirt until we got over it. Sometimes it took like three or four hours. And one time, my mom managed to get three of us in one. It was hilarious.”

“Sounds like,” says Jamie. “Doubt you were in it very often. So is this for you and me, then?”

You sniff. “As if. Putting on clothes never solves our arguments. It’s for you and Roy.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before Jamie’s saying, “Fucking hell,” and you’re in stitches. 

“I already told Ted about it,” you manage to gasp out. “I’m really only showing it to you right now, because I’m dropping it off at Nelson Road as soon as the holiday is over.”

“Christ,” is all Jamie can come up with. His only consolation is that he can’t imagine how Ted could force him and Roy into this sweater. He might be more susceptible to caving, but Roy? No way. 

(In this moment, Jamie overlooks Roy’s fondness for you, as well as Ted’s extreme stubbornness when it comes to enforcing new policies he just made up.)

Ted sends you a photo of the sweater in action a week after they return.