#trust me I’m Irish

[claritys-silly-things]

1/4 Mexican Curtis brothers…

[gaybearwedding]

one thing about me is i WILL treat silly little improvised musicals like full scripted media. i’ve written cornhole in one fic. i know all the mallapalooza kids’ last names. i have designs for many off book/pibe characters that look nothing like zach and jess. off book episode 66 we object to fear live from the curious comedy theater in portland is no longer a podcast episode to me it is the jumping off point for an entire world that i created and spent the better part of a year being absolutely fucking insane about

[wodania]

Hitting Ned Stark and Alannys Harlaw with the native ray results coming at 10

[cressida-cowper]

opinions so far: viserys sucks, daemon sucks, otto sucks, aemma & rhaenys deserved better, rhaenyra & alicent 🥰🥰, ser criston is ok to look at and i’m glad i can actually understand some of the high valyrian :D

[alotofpockets]

Not as it seems | Katie McCabe

Pairing: Katie McCabe x Arsenal!Reader

Reader pronouns used: she/her

Summary: Your girlfriend finds messages on your phone that make her think that you are cheating on her. What will happen when she won't let you tell her your side of the story?

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending), accusation of cheating, and some swear words.

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.4k

Katie was sitting in the living room of your shared apartment, decked out in her training kit, while you were still getting changed in the bedroom. Your girlfriend of a year, was always ready before you, you had no clue why because you literally had to change into the same kit. Still, you felt no rush as you still had some time before you would have to leave to pick up Kyra. When the younger Australian joined the team, you and Katie had offered to pick her up before training, since she lived on the route to the training centre.  

You had left your phone on the living room couch, where you had previously sat cuddled up to your girlfriend. Katie didn’t mean to look when it buzzed with a new message but she caught your screen light up from the corner of her eye. The messages that showed up had her reach for the phone instantly.

EM: I can’t believe that she still has no clue

EM: See you next weekend! ❤️

Who was this Em and why was she going to see you next weekend? She had never heard you talk about an Em, and you hadn’t mentioned having any plans next weekend either. What bothered her most was that she had the early feeling that she was the one being referred to as the one ‘having no clue’. So, against her better judgement she unlocked your phone with the passcode you had shared with her early on in your relationship. She opened your conversation with the person in question, and without scrolling further she dropped your phone.

Y/n: Made the reservation for the hotel under your name

EM: Does Katie have any suspicions?

Y/n: None at all :)

EM: I can’t believe that she still has no clue

EM: See you next weekend! ❤️

Her mind was racing, there was only one logical explanation for the conversation she had just read, right? She started pacing the room, why was this happening to her? Why was it happening again? Was she just not good enough? Besides being extremely hurt, she was also very angry with you. So, when you came walking into the living room all cheerful, she snapped. 

“How could you do this to me, y/n?” You were taken back by her raised voice accompanied by the use of your full first name. “I’m sorry but what exactly did I do?” You ask timidly, not wanting to upset the Irish woman more. She reaches for your phone that she dropped just moments before, and holds up the conversation to your face. You frown, “You went through my messages?” Sure you gave her your passcode, as did she, but that was something you had done because there was a high level of trust between the two of you, and not to go through the other’s messages. “That is what you want to focus on right now? You’re fucking cheating on me, and you want to talk about me reading your messages?” 

“Katie, it’s not what you think-” She interrupts you before you can finish your sentence. “I don’t want to hear your stupid excuses.” You try to say something again, but to no avail. “Get in the car, we have to pick up Kyra.” You had never seen Katie this way, her face was stoic, and she didn’t say a word on the drive over to Kyra’s. When Kyra got into the back of the car she could feel the tension, so she opted on scrolling on her phone instead of getting involved in whatever was going on. 

The three of you walk into the locker room together, and walk to your cubbies. Instead of sitting down at her cubby next to yours, Katie grabs her stuff, and moves to a free cubby down the other side of the room. The girls look between the two of you worriedly, they had never seen the two of you fight like this before. You don’t notice their stares, as your eyes are trained to the floor while you boot up. 

“Do you know what’s going on?” Steph whispers to Kyra. “I have no clue, there was a lot of tension in the car but neither one of them said a word.” Some of the other girls listened in, wanting to know what happened too, but sadly Kyra didn’t know either. The team wanted to be there for the both of you, but they felt helpless not knowing what was going on. 

Katie, who had enough of all the whispering, got up and walked towards the door, but not before turning around and saying, “Since you all so badly want to know what’s going on, I just found out that she is cheating on me.” Without another word she leaves the room, slamming the door in the process.

Now you know that all of their eyes are on you, and there is no way to avoid them now. “Y/n, is it true?” Leah asked, not sure what to ask, but she felt like you should be able to tell your side of the story too. It pained you to think that both your girlfriend and your teammates thought you would do something like that. “I did not cheat on her.” You get up annoyed, and head out to the pitch yourself, the rest of the team following your lead, probably more confused now than when they didn’t know what was going on. 

You started warming up with your back towards Katie, and she did the same on the other end of the field. During the training drills you were running up and down the field, and every time you saw the angry looks that Katie sent your way, your heart broke a little more, until eventually you couldn’t take it anymore. You run off the field with tears streaming down your face, only stopping once you have made your way behind one of the supply sheds where you just slump to the ground.

It wasn't long until you heard footsteps coming closer, you looked up to see Beth standing in front of you. “Oh, honey.” She says when she notices the state you're in. Without a second thought, she sits down beside you, and wraps her arms around you. Gently rocking you back and forth in her arms, letting you cry it all out. 

Only once you start wiping the tears of your face, Beth speaks up again. “Why don't you tell me what's going on, sweetheart?” Her voice was soft, and it almost made you sob again. “She saw some messages on my phone and immediately accused me of cheating on her. I would never do that to her, or anyone for that matter.” Beth listened carefully to your words, “Did you tell her that?” She tries. “I started to but she didn't let me finish. I don't want to lose her but she's so angry with me, and she won't even listen to me. I was only trying to surprise her by flying in her sister Ella for the match next week. Why won't she listen to me, Beth?” Your voice was weak as your emotions were high.

Beth had a feeling why Katie's mind had so quickly gone to this conclusion, but felt like it wasn't her place to tell you, if it was something that Katie hadn't yet shared with you. “I'll go talk to her. Why don't you go to the locker room, and stay there for a bit, okay? I'll let Jonas know that you need some time.” She gets up, and offers her hand to help you up as well. With another hug, Beth is on her way to talk to Katie.

Meanwhile on the pitch some of the girls had taken Katie aside as well. Katie usually wasn't one to cry in front of others, but now that she felt like her world was ending, she couldn't hold her tears in. “I thought I could trust her.” She tells them between sobs. “I really thought things would be different with her, why would she do this to me?” Viv puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Have you talked to her? In the locker room she said that she didn't cheat on you.” Leah asks. Katie shakes her head, “No, but I saw the messages. She booked a hotel for some girl and she talked about me not having a clue.” Before any of her teammates can answer, Beth is by their side. “Hey, sorry to interrupt but I really think you should talk to your girl.” 

Katie shakes her head, “I can't Beth, I-.” Now Katie was the one not allowed to finish her sentence, as Beth interrupts her. “Okay, then listen to me. She didn't cheat on you, she was surprising you by flying Ella in for the match next week.” Katie looks at her friend in disbelief. “I understand why your mind went to this conclusion, but she's not Mandy. She's heartbroken even by the thought that you'd think she'd do that to you. Please go talk to her.” It finally started to settle for Katie, who now felt extremely guilty for accusing you. So, she took Beth’s advice, and headed to the locker room.

You hear a soft knock on the locker room door before it opens slightly and Katie appears on the other side. “Can I come in?” The softness in her voice was the complete opposite of the raised voice you had gotten this morning, so you nod. You sat on the floor in the far corner of the room, back leaned against the wall. Katie makes her way over to you and sits down in front of you. “Beth told me about your plans.” She starts softly. “I know I really messed up in accusing you, and not letting you explain yourself. I am really sorry for that. I never meant to break your trust, as it is very important to me. I will do anything to fix what I’ve broken, if you’ll allow me.” She looks up again, nervously searching for eye contact. “Why would you think that I would ever cheat on you?” Your voice breaks mid sentence. “I never thought you would, and I of course really didn’t want it to be true. The reason I thought that that was what was happening is because of something that happened in my past. I should have told you about this before, and I am not saying this to excuse my actions, because I know that I was wrong. I’ve been cheated on in the past, so when I saw the messages pop-up on your screen, my mind went straight back to that. Again, it doesn’t excuse my behaviour. I should have talked to you, and I am really sorry I didn’t do that. I promise to be better.” 

You finally made eye contact with the brunette sitting in front of you. Despite your feelings on the current situation, your blood was boiling finding out that someone had hurt your girlfriend so badly in the past. “Who?” You asked with a hint of anger in your tone, towards whoever had done it. Katie was surprised that you wanted to hear more about that, instead of the situation at hand, but she answered nonetheless. “Mandy, the girl I dated back in college.” Katie didn’t expect you to reach out your hand, but she took it before you could change your mind and retract it. “What a bitch.” Your comment took Katie by surprise, and made her chuckle. Katie’s laugh was contagious, and you’re soon laughing with her. The laughter soon turns into crying from both ends, as you had pulled her in for a hug. It was a tight hug, one that meant more than words could express.

She sits down by your side once you pull back from the hug. “What can I do to fix this?” You think for a moment. “I need you to talk to me when something happens.” She nods, “I will do that next time something happens, I promise.” You lean your head against her shoulder, exhausted from all of today’s emotions. “And I need you to explain to the team what actually happened, because you made me out for someone I am not.” Katie nods again, “I am sorry, I promise I will fix it. Just so you know, none of them actually thought you did, they were all telling me to talk to you. And I will also promise that the next time they tell me that, I will.” She adds quickly, wanting to show you that she was listening to you. “Okay, and when you’ve done that, I would really like you to take me home, my head hurts and I am exhausted.” 

Katie helps you up, before she excuses herself to quickly run back to the team who was still training on the pitch. She went to tell them what happened, like she had promised. She talked to Jonas about the both of you needing the rest of training off as well, and finally she made sure that Kyra would have a ride home. 

Back home you lay down on the couch immediately, while Katie makes her way to the kitchen, coming back with a glass of water and some painkillers for your headache. “I’m really sorry that I ruined your surprise in such a horrific way.” She sits down next to you, leaving some space just in case you need it, but you quickly scoot into her side. “At least I no longer have to keep secrets from you, I hate keeping secrets from you.” Katie presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Oh, and you’re telling Ella that you figered out the surprise, preferably without the whole explanation of the story.” You say before wrapping your arms around her waist and laying your head down on your chest, getting ready to take a well deserved nap. “Okay, I’ll call her tonight. Does telling her I saw the two of you messaging about it sound alright to you?” You hum letting her know it does, before closing your eyes. 

Katie holds you while you sleep, feeling grateful that you were giving her the opportunity to make it up to you. She loved you more than anything in the world, which was also the reason that she was so scared of losing you. She promised herself to improve her communication skills, so nothing like this would ever happen again, before she closed her own eyes and fell asleep with you.

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[starkwlkr]

Hi Jen!!!❤️❤️❤️

I saw your requests were open so possibly, social media au or not, Cillian Murphy’s or Christopher Nolan’s daughter (either one would be fine, but I saw your imagine about Nolan!reader x Cillian so maybe Cillian would be better, either one is fine though) dating Charles Leclerc or lando Norris

(I don’t know if this has been done yet but it feels very random, but it I saw you wrote for F1 and Cillian so I just thought of that crossover. Couldn’t decide which driver I wanted to request for so I’ll leave it up to you between Charles and lando)

But if you do, then thank you!!!

my favorite nepo baby | lando norris

faceclaim saorsie ronan (don’t hate me, yes ik there’s more irish actresses but i love saoirse) also i love this request, mixing random fandoms is my favorite thing ever

liked by maxverstappen1, ynfans and 56,377 others

danielricciardo happy birthday, lady bird

mclarentears WHAT

dannyric333 does daniel know everyone??

bottaszz you don’t understand THIS IS IMPORTANT TO ME

landonorris my favorite nepo baby

danielricciardo the nepo baby says thank you

landonorris tell the nepo baby to make an account

danielricciardo no - the nepo baby

landonorris i tried

vettelsbees this is my roman empire

view all 23,477 comments

summer break

Y/n Murphy only knew Daniel Ricciardo because he had friends everywhere. It was only a matter of time before the Irish actress met the famous honey badger. Soon, his friends became her friends and the whole friend group was hanging out everywhere.

One of their hang out spots was the F1 paddock. Daniel insisted for Y/n to come to his favorite race, the Austin Grand Prix. It was no secret that Daniel is secretly a Texan so he wanted his new friend to experience the Texas atmosphere.

“We need to get you some boots and maybe a longhorns jersey. You’ll look so cool, trust me.” Daniel said as him, Heidi and Y/n walked into the AlphaTauri garage.

“He’s going to convert you into a Texan.” Heidi whispered to Y/n.

“Can you imagine me going home to my father speaking with a texas accent? He’ll have a stroke!” Y/n laughed.

“I bet that by the end of the day, you’ll love texas as much as I do.” Daniel smirked. “Maybe you’ll find a country boy you can take home to your old man.”

“Oh god, he’s going to have more strokes, die then come back and have more strokes.”

“Well then I can get you a British boy that won’t make your old man die.”

Y/n knew who Daniel was referring to. On the day of her birthday, which was a few days ago, Daniel showed her the comments that Lando had left on his post.

‘my favorite nepo baby’

While she told everyone she didn’t have an Instagram account, she had a secret one that only had about twenty followers which were close family and friends. She used that account to look at Lando’s account. She was going to lie, he was attractive.

“Just make an instagram! That boy keeps messaging me about you.” Daniel pleaded.

“I don’t use social media, I tried and I didn’t like it.” What a lie.

“Okay well can you at least talk to him? Wait, I should go with you, he might be the one having a stroke.”

So while Heidi stayed back in the garage, Daniel accompanied Y/n to the Mclaren garage so Lando could finally meet his favorite nepo baby. Y/n started to feel nervous, why? She didn’t know, she hardly knew Lando apart from his instagram posts.

“Hey Landoooooo!” Daniel dragged out the o.

“Is that Daniel Ric—” Lando’s voice stopped when he noticed who was standing beside Daniel.

“Is he having a stroke? I can’t tell.” Daniel whispered to Y/n.

“Hi . . . You’re y/n. Wow.” Lando tried to play it cool. “I’m Lando, but I’m guessing you already knew that because of the giant Australian yelling my name. Thank you Daniel.”

“Glad I could be of service. I have to go get ready, but you two go ahead and talk. Y/n, I’ve been told the Mclaren garage is the best spot to watch a race so . . bye!”

And all thanks to Daniel Ricciardo and his match making skills, your dad, Cillian, didn’t have a stroke when he finally met Lando.

[lowkeyhollland]

please please please

peter parker x reader "i beg you don't embarrass me motherfucker" 1k words

“y/n!” your best friend, melanie, ran up to hug you. “and you brought…” her voice trailed off at the end as she gestured to the brunette boy standing next to you. 

“oh! this is peter. he’s my uh,” you stumbled over your words, “friend?” it came out more as a question and you hoped no one noticed how unsure you were. you looked up and saw peter smirk. 

“friends that kiss?” he whispered in your ear and your cheeks flushed red. 

“so nice to meet you, peter! we’ve actually heard so much about you!” melanie pulled you two further into the party where all of your friends were. 

“oh have you now?” peter’s eyebrows quirked up, curious as to what could have been said about him. 

“it’s nothing.” you mumbled and crossed your arms over your body. “now just, don’t embarrass me. please?”

“honey, i could never embarrass you.” peter kissed your cheek and slipped his hand into yours as you two socialized with the rest of the group. 

the lights were flashing in the club as bodies were pressed up against each other. peter had told you that he was gonna grab you drinks and squeezed past the sea of people toward the bar. you continued to dance with your friends, singing along to the music with a smile plastered on your face. 

“where’s your boy?!” one of your friends asks. you looked around the club and realized peter was nowhere to be found. you mentally sighed as he had, once again, disappeared with no warning. 

“he said he wasn’t feeling well,” you lied. “but you know! he’s like irish or something and they’re really good at irish goodbyes. it’s just, uh, in his culture.” you messed with your rings, looking side to side and hoped your friends were drunk enough to not see through your lies. 

“oh!” that was all that came out of all of their mouths. a part of you wanted to rip out peter’s hair for leaving without telling you while the other part just wanted to die from embarrassment. 

you seriously just had to leave again?? 

you texted him and to no avail, there was no response. letting out a frustrated sigh, you continued to dance with your friends to try and forget about the night. 

you took an uber home, not trusting to walk by yourself in the dark. melanie had offered to let you crash at her place, but you politely declined as you didn’t want to be around anyone. 

of course, you just had to fall for peter parker who’s notorious for never being anywhere— ever. and the cherry on top of it all was no matter how many times you texted him calling him a dick tonight, no response. absolutely ghosted. 

you stumbled through your apartment, the whole world still spinning from the amount of shots you took tonight. kicking off your heels, you turned on the lights, revealing a red & blue masked man standing in the middle of your living room. 

“i’m either super drunk right now or spiderman is actually in my house.” you slurred, squinting your eyes as if it would help you see him. he just stood there as you walked up to him. running your hand over his chest, peter’s breath hitched. 

“i, uh,” peter coughed and you pulled your hand away. 

“how did you get in?” 

“your window was unlocked. that isn’t very safe.”

“i live on the tenth floor. what’s gonna happen? a bird trying to attack me?” you snorted. 

“you never know, birds are quite dangerous.” it was hard to see his expression with his mask on and it took everything in you to not pull the mask away. 

“as fun as this would be,” you gestured to him. “i was just ditched tonight and would love to be alone so i can cry in peace.” you opened your window to encourage the masked hero to swing away. “bye spidey.” you waved at him as you walked to your room. 

peter knew it was now or never. he webbed your wrist to pull you back, stumbling as you were buried in his chest. he quickly took off his mask, breathing heavily as you stood there wide eyed. 

“look, i’m so sorry for ditching you tonight. especially with all of your friends.” he started. you didn’t know what to say. peter, your peter, was spiderman. whatthefuck whatthefuck whatthefuck. “and i know you really wanted me there—“

“what the fuck.” you blurted out. peter’s eyebrows furrowed together, confused about your reaction, but his face softened when he really thought about it. 

“oh yeah. i’m spiderman.”

“i can see that.” you bluntly said. “motherfucker, spiderman embarrassed me tonight?! you could have at least told me to leave too so we could make it seem like we were hooking up!” 

“is that still an option?” peter smirked and you smacked his arm. “ow..”

“you literally left me. that’s what you get.”

“i’m really, really sorry. there was a robbery and this guy had a gun and— i’m sorry, y/n. i should have just told you.” his head hung low and you frowned. you lifted his head so you could see his face. there were small bruises and cuts and it made you sad to see him physically hurt. 

“it’s okay. i mean, my boyfriend is literally a superhero. how cooler can i get?” his face lit up and broke into the biggest smile ever. 

“boyfriend?” you smiled back at him and nodded. 

“yeah, boyfriend.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, tangling your hands in his hair. his arms still wrapped around your waist as he smiled into the kiss. 

“so is that other option still available?” he asked once you both pulled away, his lips tugging into a smirk. you rolled your eyes and pushed his head away lightly. 

“ask again when you actually stay at an event the entire time when you’re with me.” you started to walk away to your room and he chased after you. 

“aw, c’mon babe. it was a joke!”

[pitchsidestories]

Don’t Be So Hard on Yourself II Laia Codina x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2161

A/N: based of this request. Let us know what you think.

Like every week, Jonas Eidevall announced his starting line up for the upcoming game a few days before the weekend. And like most weeks, Laia Codina was not in it. Usually she would accept this with a brave face but this time, she left the room right after the announcement. Shocked, you watched your girlfriend go; “Laia…“

You were about to get up as well but Jen Beattie held you back from following her; “Let her.“ “It’s really not easy for her, Jen.“, you explained helplessly. The rest of the Arsenal players had already fallen back into their usual routine of small talk. The Scot nodded empathetically; “It’s never easy to sit on the bench.“ “Very true.“, Lia Wälti agreed.

“Leave her alone for a moment.“, Jen instructed you gently. “Right… I don’t want to annoy her.“, you nodded slowly. “She always puts on a brave face and supports the other players. I know she expected something else when she moved her.“, the Scot continued.

“Especially coming from the World Cup as a Champions… it’s tough.“, you added. You and Laia had talked about it a lot recently. “We all understand that, trust me.“, Jen smiled softly.

Victoria Pelova chimed in; “Yes, we get that.“ “Thanks girls.“, you forced yourself to smile at your team mates. Kim Little who sat next to Jen got up; “I’ll go look after her.“ You thanked your captain with a grateful nod.

Laia sat on the steps outside. She looked up in surprise as Kim approached her; “Kim hi.“ “Are you okay?“, the captain asked, sitting down beside her. “Yes, I’m good.“, the Spanish defender replied, no very convincingly.

But she could not fool her captain. “It’s tough, right?“ “A bit.“, Laia finally admitted, her gaze directed down at her toes. With confidence, Kim replied; “You’ll get your time. Trust me.“ “Are you sure about this?“ Laias voice was filled with insecurity. The captain nodded; “I am. I see how hard you work.“ “That’s what she says too…“, the defender said.

When she looked up, she caught Kim smiling briefly; “Maybe she’s got a point.“ “Yes, but you know as my girlfriend she needs to say stuff like this.“, Laia returned the smile. Kim raised her eyebrows at her team mate; “Yes, but as your captain I’m saying that stuff because it’s true.“

“Appreciate it.“, Laia laughed lightly. Kim bumped her elbow against Laias; “Are you ready to go back inside?“ “I am.“, she confirmed while getting up and pulling the Scot up with her. “Let’s go then. We still need you for the game.“

Meanwhile Steph Catly was putting an arm around your shoulder:” And you stop feeling bad because you’re in the starting line and she isn’t.” “I don’t.”, you muttered. Slowly Beth Mead shook her head:” Yeah, you’re.”

“Maybe a little bit.”, you admitted blushing.  Laughing Katie McCabe padded your back and suggested:” Don’t. Don’t blame yourself, blame Jonas.”  “Katie.”, Vivianne Miedema rolled her eyes at her friend. Cheekily the Irish player threw her hands up:” What? As long as it works, and she feels better.” “I can confirm it helps.”, you told her with a crooked smile on your lips.  

Triumphantly Katie turned around to the Dutch forward:” See!”  “Girls, do you want to grab a coffee and we get Myle?”, Vivianne changed the topic quickly to something more light-hearted.

With that said the owner of Win brought in the puppy she and her girlfriend got which made Beth squeal out loud in delight:”Myle!” “Hello little one.”, you whispered in awe, cuddling the little dog when he approached you and started licking your face. Happily, the blonde dog mum declared: “He says hi too.”  

“Such a good boy. Laia, can we get one too?”, you asked your girlfriend as she was re-entering the room. Quickly Victoria responded, pouting:”No, I’ll get a dog before that.”

“I didn’t know we couldn’t get one if you get one.”, the Spanish defender answered entertained by her reaction. Trying to calm down your teammate you offered her:” Vicky, we could look together at dogs, what do you think about that.” “No, thanks.”, she waved it off. 

Motivated Vivianne clapped into her hands:” Let’s go to the coffeeshop, shall we?”  “Please, Myle needs a puppycino.”, her girlfriend nodded excited. “And I need a human cappuccino before we cook later with Aitana and Keira via facetime.”, you added grinning.

Innocently Alessia was looking at the brunette:” Sounds delicious, Laia are we invited too?” “For the cooking or the dinner?”, Laia wanted to know.

The face of the English player turned slightly pink:” Actually, more for the dinner.” “I knew you’d say that.”, your girlfriend replied smiling. Cheekily Victoria asked her:” Does this mean we can come later?” “Fine.”, Laia sighed in defeat. But you knew she loved having her new teammates over for dinner.

After you had your little coffee catch up with the Arsenal girls you two started cooking in your new appartement.  Amused Aitana looked at you both through your phone screen:” So you want to get a puppy? I need to tell that Mapi, she will love it. Remember she always said you’re the epitome of puppy love when we were younger!”

“Oh, stop it. We’ll never hear the end of it.”, Laia begged the Spanish midfielder giggling.Laughing, you agreed; “Yeah, please. We want to visit Barcelona in peace.“

Keiras face lightened up in surprise and she shared a look with Aitana; “You’re going to visit?“ “Soon, yes.“, you replied. “Can’t wait.“, Aitana smiled happily into the phone camera. “We neither.“, Laia answered while watching Keira stirred their food with a wrinkled nose.

“We need to cook faster. I’m starving.“, she complained. With a gaze to your kitchen clock, you agreed; “Oh yeah, we should hurry up.

The Arsenal girls will be here soon.“ “You invited your team to our BFF night?“, Keira asked, more amused than offended. Laia shrugged in response; “You know how Alessia can do puppy eyes, right? We had no chance.“

“Rude.“, the English midfielder laughed lightly. Her midfield partner at Barcelona agreed; “Honestly, we’re your friends too!“ “We know that.“, Laia rolled her eyes with fondness. “That’s why we’ll see you again soon.“, you added.

“Maybe.“, Laia followed up. Keira repeated; “Maybe?“ “Yeah?“ Before they could start a discussion about your vacation to Barcelona, you changed the topic; “Aitana, how’s your dinner looking?“

“Delicious. Here, look.“ The phone was lifted and the camera flipped so you could see their delicious looking Spanish dish. “Looks amazing.“, you commented.

With a small smile, Keira challenged you; “Bet yours doesn’t look as good.“ You had to suppress a smile, thinking back about how shy and awkward Keira was when had first met her.

Laia in the meantime took her phone to show your friends the large simmering pot that sat on your stove: “Lies. Look at that beauty.“ “That’s a whole lot of food.“, Keira stated, seemingly impressed. “Well, a lot of girls want to join dinner and they’re footballers so that means they’ll be hungry.“, you explained, carefully tasting the hot food. “I see.“

As soon as you were done cooking, Keira and Aitana ended the video call to enjoy their dinner in Barcelona while you in London hosted your team mates. As always when you spent time with them, the evening was filled with laughter and good cheer. You didn’t even notice how quickly time had passed until all your guests had left.

It was around midnight when Laia and you started doing the dishes. “They couldn’t get enough of that dinner, Laia.“, you stated contently. Still elated from the dinner, your girlfriend smiled; “I’ll tell Aitana and Keira that they loved their recipe.“ “You should.“

“They’ll be happy.“, Laia concluded with a laugh. You both silently focused on cleaning for a moment but a thought still whirred in your brain; “Laia, are you happy here?“ The defender paused, wiping her hands on a tea towel before answering; “I am… Why?“

You shrugged; “I was just thinking about your reaction earlier when Jonas made it clear that you’re not in the starting line up… I was worried you might regret joining me at Arsenal.“ “I don’t regret it.“, Laia replied quickly. You could see that there was more going on so you prompted her to continue; “But?“

“I was expecting to get more game time after the World cup.”, the brunette explained, her voice couldn’t conceal her disappointment. Softly you promised her: “Trust me, your time to shine will come.” “Hopefully.”, she whispered, her shoulders shrinking.

Saddened by her body language you pulled her into a hug:” Laia, don’t be so hard on yourself.” “I’ll just try to become better.”, Laia told you with a weak smile on her lips. More hopeful the defender added:” I feel like I can do it.” “I know you can.”, you tried to cheer her up.

Gratefully she pressed a kiss on your forehead, mumbling against your skin:” Thanks love.” “You’re welcome.”, you replied sincerely. The Spanish woman decided after your embrace:” Let’s go to bed. Tomorrow is training.” You swiftly followed her to your bedroom; the promise of better days was in the air.

It seemed like the effort Laia put into her training paid off because Jonas put her up in the starting line against Reading at the end of January. On match day Vivianne hummed:” Look at you, you’re so proud of your girlfriend.”

“Oh, shut up, Viv.”, you playfully elbowed her.  The Dutch forward kept teasing you: “What? It’s true.”  “Yes, okay, you’re right, I’m really happy for her.”, you admitted proudly grinning into your girlfriend’s direction who was just getting ready for the match in your team’s locker room.

Amused Vivianne looked at you:” Told you.” “So cute.”, Beth tuned in with an equally wide smile. Your teammates making you groan out loud: “Not you too.” “What?”, the English blonde answered innocently.

Meanwhile Jonas announced cheerfully: “Girl’s time to go off on that pitch and play.” “Thank god.”, you muttered relieved before turning to Laia, whispering into her ear, good luck, love.” The defender kissed your cheek: “Thank you, mi amor.”

In the second half the Spanish player did score, Victoria exclaimed happily:” Nice goal, Laia!” “Thanks.”, Laia answered blushing. Beaming Jen Beattie padded her shoulders:” Welcome to the Arsenal.” “Thanks.”, she chuckled.

Eyerolling the Dutch midfielder turned to the Scottish player:” She’s been here for half a year, Jen!” “She didn’t score yet though.”, Jen defended herself. Curious Laia glanced at the older woman:” Is that the moment when you become a real gooner?” “Yes.”, the Scottish player nodded delighted.

For a moment you embraced her: “Congrats.” “Thank you.”, your girlfriend said, cheeks turning redder after your hug. Clearing her throat Beth reminded you all:” We got to go back to work, girls.” “Exactly.”, Kim agreed.

After the match you and Leah walked into the locker room together:” Lee, your assist was great.” “Thanks. Feels good to be back.”, the blonde confessed smiling.

Like every professional player you knew what a big moment it was so you added: “I can imagine.” “It was perfect.”, Beths eyes sparkled fondly while thinking of her goal. Teasing you glanced at her:” Yeah, pretty decent goal, Beffy.” “Decent?!”, the goal scorer repeated playfully hurt.

Jen interrupted you, a guitar in hand. “Guys, listen.“, she called, playing the first chords. Kim gave her an unimpressed look; “What are you doing?“ “It’s something we worked on, right Jen?“, Leah responded, sitting down next to Jen and started singing. Rolling her eyes, Kim shook her head about her team mates while Laia held her hand out towards you.

You took it and let her pull you in to slow dance to the song. Smiling, you looked at each other until Katie shouted; “Disgusting cute couple!“ “I agree.“, Kim mumbled. “Oh, you two let them breathe.“, Caitlin rolled her eyes. Jen nodded: “Yeah, let them have fun.“

Laughing, Caitlin slapped Katie on her upper arm; “Also you could just ask me to dance with you, Katie.“ The Irish player grimaced immediately; “Ew, no.“ “Ignore them, Laia.“, you smiled, your eyes locked with hers. “But…“, she started. “Hm?“ “Doesn’t matter.“ “Okay.“ “Let’s enjoy this.“, Laia stated, continuing to sway with her hands on your hips. “Alright.“, you nodded.

She let her forehead rest against yours; “That was a great game.“ “Agreed.“, you smiled, genuinely happy for your girlfriend. “It feels like the hard work finally paid off.“ Carefully, you caressed her cheek with one hand; “You definitely deserved it.“ “Thank you.“ Jens voice snapped you two out of your moment; “Girls? Everyone left already.“

You hadn’t even realized that the music had stopped playing. “We’re coming.“, you called as Jen left the dressing room as well. Laia took her football bag; “Yes, on our way.“ On your way out, you took your girlfriends hand and pressed a quick kiss to her lips; “Certainly a day to remember.“

[thiswaytwoinfinity]

it’s a bad idea, right? - part 1: can’t two people reconnect

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader • inspired by sleeping with other people

Warnings: no use of y/n or physical description of reader except they have hair that can be tucked behind their ears, implied smut, this chapter is fine but future installments will be 18+

It’s finally here! Thank you to everyone for being so supportive and patient about this fic; I was dealing with some rough personal stuff and lost all my inspiration but it’s back now and I’m happy to be writing about everyone’s favorite cocky flyboy.

There’s something about a sticky summer night when you’re 22 that makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever been.

It’s the third bar that your new roommates have dragged you to tonight, there’s a cocktail sweating in your hand and the bass from the stereo thudding through your head. You’re not sure if the grin on your face is from the watching all of the wannabe cowboys go flying off the mechanical bull in mere milliseconds or from the possibilities of newfound adulthood laid out in front of you. In this moment, it’s hard to imagine that you were ever scared about moving halfway across the country — away from your family, your hometown and your high school sweetheart who always thought you’d move home after college — to Austin.

In this moment, you feel free. You feel invincible. You feel like this is a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

 

“Okay, the bar is a madhouse but I managed to get another round!” Anna shouts as she makes her way back to the table, tossing her long dark hair behind her before plopping the tray of shots down in front of you and your new friends. “And there’s a new rule!”

Everyone groans in unison; Anna loves to make up drinking games, handing out shots and beers with a new rule or bet that is guaranteed to leave someone embarrassed before the night’s over.

“Oh, stop. Shit like this is how we become lifelong best friends, trust me, I read about it online,” she fires back, rolling her eyes and handing shots to you and the three other girls at the table before taking one in hand. “It’s simple. Last one to finish their shot has to ride the mechanical bull.”

“Bitch, are you trying to kill us?” Erin asks, shooting a sideways glance at Katie, who’s eyeing up her shot glass like she’s trying to strategize the best way to drink it. The two of them are sisters — “Irish twins, it’s a whole thing,” Erin explained when you first moved in — are hyper-competitive and curse like sailors. You loved them instantly.

Your tiny hope of not being the one to end up on the bull dies when you look over at Taylor, who managed to throw back her tequila when nobody was watching. “What?!” she asks, curls bobbing in the bun on top of her head as she takes in everyone’s looks of confusion and frustration. “Anna never said we had to start at the same time.”

It’s like a starting pistol went off at the end of her sentence because before you know it, Erin and Katie are both biting into limes while Anna is swallowing down the liquor with a grimace. Shit.

You do your best to catch up but it’s too late. You, the girl who grew up nowhere near Texas and have never actually seen a bull in real life, are going to have to ride one in front of this entire bar.

Years later you won’t remember the details of the bet, how your friends whooped and hollered as you made your way over to the bull with shaky knees or how the operator took pity on you when you immediately slid off and offered you a second try. The song that was playing is lost to time, as is the actual feeling of riding the bull for a whole half second.

What you will remember, though, is sliding across the tarp to rest right by a group of athletic looking guys and the strong, tan hand that reached down to help you stand up.

You’ll remember the backwards Longhorns cap on his head, the way his green eyes flashed with amusement and the blinding white of his smile as he helped you to your feet, hand lingering just a moment too long in yours. You’ll remember the way it felt like someone had set off fireworks inside of you, fingers tingling where they touched his skin and your stomach swooping like you were on a roller coaster.

You’ll remember exactly what he said to you: “Well, that was definitely the most entertaining attempt of the night.”

You giggled, a little dazed by his chiseled features, by the way he seemed to only see you in that moment, by the force of his charisma.

 “I’m Jake. What’s your name, beautiful?”

 

For a Thursday night, the Hard Deck was surprisingly packed.

The Daggers had managed to claim their usual spot by the pool table, but despite their cramped quarters they practically had to shout over the sounds of drunken sailors and the oldies blasting out of the jukebox to be heard. The table next to Bob was crowded with beer bottles, the bespectacled WSO having waved off Penny when she stopped by to clear them, promising the group would clean up after themselves. Natasha and Bradley were in the middle of some kind of dumb darts competition, being heckled by Bob and a tipsy Rueben, who had his arm slung around the former’s shoulders for balance.

Jake took in the scenery, smug grin on his face, before sinking his final pool ball with a flourish.

“And that’s game, gentlemen,” he said, turning to Javy and Mickey, who were shaking their heads with frustration.

“Can’t believe I let you talk me into betting against him,” Mickey sighed, shuffling through his wallet for a $20 bill. Javy just shrugged and threw a playful punch against his friend’s shoulder, before asking for a rematch.

“Let that be a lesson, Fanboy,” Jake chuckled, making a big show of examining the bill before pocketing it. “Never bet against Jake Seresin. They call me a golden boy for a reason.”

“Who’s ‘they?’ Everyone we know just calls you a dick,” Nat called out, making her way back to the table for her drink. Taking a look at the chaos on the table, she rolled her eyes before starting to gather up a handful of empty bottles. “C’mon, Fanboy. Help me clear some of these and I’ll buy you a beer to drown your sorrows in.”

He ran over to help, allowing Javy to slide over to Jake and elbow his buddy in the side.

“10 o’clock, there’s a whole table of pretty ladies. The blonde’s had her eye on you all night and her friend with the locs is crazy hot,” he murmured, as Jake took a subtle look over at the table in question. 5 or 6 women were crammed into a booth, and judging by the tiara on one of their heads, they were out celebrating a birthday. “Wingman?” the younger aviator asked, holding out his fist for Jake to bump it.

For a half second, he contemplated turning his best friend down.

It wasn’t like Jake wasn’t attracted to the blonde, who was, indeed making eyes at him from across the room. She was exactly his type, all bright smiles and smokey bedroom eyes, her curves and long legs poured into tight jeans. She had an air of confidence that made it clear she knew just how hot she was.

He knew that if he strolled over and gave her his best All-American smile and some of that Southern charm, he could probably win her over. They’d flirt and dance a bit and then he’d drive them back to one of their places, have some decent-to-excellent sex and he’d be asleep shortly after midnight.

It seemed fun. It seemed obvious. It seemed, quite honestly, a little boring to him.

Maybe it was because he turned 35 a few months ago and the idea of going home to his own bed after a night out was starting to seem more and more appealing to him. Maybe it was because he spent so much time trying to convince his fellow Daggers that he wasn’t a complete asshole that he didn’t want to risk them changing their minds again.

Or maybe he was just a little jealous.

Jake would see the way Rueben’s face lit up when he talked about his wife, how he would brag about every milestone his 3-year-old daughter was reaching. He felt awkward about his lack of wedding knowledge when a pink-eared Bob would ask the squad for their opinion on something for his upcoming nuptials. He’d try to ignore the weird sinking feeling in his stomach when he’d overhead Nat and Mickey picking out a restaurant for their weekly brunch double date with their respective girlfriends.

And despite the fact that he had spent most of his adult life doing whatever he could to avoid those kinds of situations, now he was starting to wonder if maybe … maybe he’d be a little happier if he had been able to settle down with someone of his own.

Oof. That thought made Jake’s chest tighten uncomfortably. So he pushed it down, smiled as wide as he could and first bumped Javy. “Wingmen for life, Coyote. Lead the way.”

 

If you had to spend one more minute squeezed up against this bar, wedged between a couple aggressively making out and a trio of rowdy Navy men who were trying to sing along to Queen, you were going to scream.

“Just come for a drink or two. This place is super chill for a Navy bar, I promise,” you muttered darkly under your breath, repeating the words your friend and new coworker had used to convince you to come out tonight.

Between a frantic weekend spent unpacking all of your belongings into your new studio apartment and a very long first week at your new job, all you had wanted to do was bury yourself under a blanket and watch Real Housewives until your brain melted out of your ears.

But you were trying to be more social. You wanted to focus more on your friendships. Do things that were good for you. That was the whole point of this move.

So instead, you were leaning so far over the bar top that you could feel the edge digging into your ribs, shouting a drink order at the (admittedly, very sweet and slightly overwhelmed) bartender. She had just placed the two beers and margarita you had asked for down in front of you when another hand appeared and tried to snatch them up.

“Hey!” you yelled, tossing the bills in your hand onto the bar as you reached up to catch the offender by the wrist before they made off with your hard-won drinks. “Asshole! Drop them, those are my beers! What the fuck?”

You swiped up the cocktail with your free hand, lest it meet the same fate and turned around to see what kind of absolute monster thought they had the right to steal drinks.

Annoyingly, he was beautiful.

Tall and broad, with sun-kissed skin and a blindingly-white smile, which held a hint of sheepishness as he realized that he had been caught red handed. There was something familiar about the way he ducked his head a little, before peering at you from beneath his eyelashes.

“Sorry about that, ma’am. I thought those were mine. Didn’t mean to steal from you,” his low, twangy drawl went right through you, settling warm and comfortingly in your stomach. “I’d offer to buy you a drink to make it up to you, but, well …”

Texas. That’s where that accent is from, you thought, instantly being transported back to your nursing school program in Austin. How many wannabe cowboys had spoken with that same drawl, trying to charm you and your friends during a night out? Not too many of them had succeeded with you, especially not after —

“Jake? Jake Seresin!?”

It had to be him. You’d know that smile anywhere, had seen those green eyes in your dreams for far too long after you both had moved on. He was bigger now, muscles more pronounced and jaw more defined, more of those cheeky smile lines creasing around his eyes. His voice was deeper too, some of his accent smoothed out after years in the military, but it had to be.

He swore under his breath, eyes widening as he made the connection as well. He practically whispered your name, as if it felt a bit rusty on his tongue, but the second you nodded, he repeated it louder, warmer, like he was slipping back into his favorite jacket.

“Shit, how long’s it been?” Jake wondered aloud, looking you up and down as if to make a note of every infinitesimal change that had occurred since you last saw each other. “You look amazing, darling. Beautiful as ever.”

You rolled your eyes but felt your cheeks heating up at his compliment. Jake always had a way of making you feel like the most special person in the room — but then again, he made everyone feel that way, as you later found out. “You look good too, Seresin. Like a proper, respectable Navy man,” you concede, though the words don’t sound nearly as begrudging as you hoped.

You’re rewarded with one of those thousand-watt grins and for a second, you’re back in a Texas dive bar, flirting with the most handsome man you’ve ever seen to the tune of some cheesy country-rap remix.

“I am good,” Jake promises, eyes locked on yours, and you think he might be back there with you, leaning up against the jukebox, the floors sticky under your feet. “I don’t know how respectable I am, but I am definitely good.”

His voice drags out that sentence, low and flirtatious, and butterflies fill your stomach the same way they did all those years ago. You can practically feel the ghost of his big hands on your hips, your lower back, caressing your cheek as the world disappeared around you that night, just the two of you creating your own little world in the corner of that dingy bar. Your lips part — to say what, exactly, you’re not sure — and you see his eyes drop to them for just a moment before —

The woman behind the bar calls out “Hangman!” with a tone of voice that makes it clear that it’s not the first time she’s said it and you both startle and turn to see her holding four bottles of beer out towards Jake, a look of exhaustion on her face. He jumps forward to take them, apologies pouring from his lips and he pointedly shoves several bills into the tip jar in order to earn an eye roll and a small smile from her. Two sweating bottles in each hand, he turns back to you and almost seems a bit relieved that you’re still standing there. (As if you’ve ever been able to walk away from him.)

“I have to drop these off with my friends,” Jake says, nodding to a table somewhere behind you, “And you should probably get those drinks to the people who sent you over here. But do — do you wanna catch up? There’s a deck out back with some tables, it’s usually pretty quiet this time of night.” He waits for you to nod, before pressing a quick kiss to your cheekbone. “I’ll meet you in five minutes.”

With one more charming smile, he’s off into the crowd and — not for the first time in your life — you’re left speechless and a little stunned, staring after Jake Seresin.

 

You’re not sure if the goosebumps on your arms are from the chill of the California evening or the way that Jake hasn’t stopped staring at you since he joined you outside on the deck. You shift slightly against the wooden bench of the picnic table, overwhelmed by the intensity of having all of the blonde’s attention on you again for the first time in a decade.

“So …” you begin, and your voice seems to startle Jake out of his thoughts slightly. “You’re a California boy now? I never thought you’d ever leave Texas.”

He grins and shakes his head slightly. “Well, when Top Gun calls and offers you a permanent station, you’d be a fool not to accept. And not to brag, but they do only offer that to the best of the best.”

“Please, Seresin. You love to brag,” you fire back, watching those green eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Well, it’s not bragging if it’s the truth. And the truth is, darling, that I am one hell of a pilot.” Jake takes a swig from his beer, before leaning a bit closer into you, like he wants to study your reactions. “What about you? What brings you out to sunny San Diego?”

“New job,” you say shortly, shrugging your shoulders as nonchalantly as possible. “Moved from the ICU to the ED, so I figured a change of location would go well with a change of pace.”

Your smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes and you hope he can’t tell. There’s no reason to tell your ex — boyfriend? Fling? — whatever that you followed a guy out here, especially since that whole — relationship? Affair? Complete and utter heartbreaking disaster? — situation crashed and burned almost immediately.

“Mmhmm,” Jake says, as if he can tell that’s not the whole story, and he takes another sip before seemingly deciding to let you off the hook. “And what did you boyfriend have to say about moving halfway across the country? Or did someone manage to finally lock you down after all these years?”

There’s a small, sinking feeling in your stomach as you think about the real reason you moved here for a brief, heartbreaking second.

“No boyfriend. No husband, either,” you say, wiggling your left hand at him in order to illustrate your point, and clock the way his eyes almost look relieved by the sight of your empty finger. “What about you, Seresin? Where’s your sweet, Southern wife?”

He laughs, a little cocky but a little hollow at the same time. “You know I don’t really do commitment, darlin’,” he jokes and, boy, do you, nights of watching him flirt with other girls while you pouted in the corner of the bar flashing in your brain. You take a long swallow of your beer — just like you used to swallow down your pride back then — and roll your eyes at him.

“I swear, you look exactly the same when you roll your eyes like that,” Jake says, his smile softening around the edges. “Nobody ever managed to make it quite as cutting as you.”

“Nobody’s ever been quite as annoying as you,” you fire back, but there’s no real heat behind it. Jake’s eye light up like you just gave him a compliment rather than pointing out that he knew exactly how to press your buttons when you were younger.

“I seem to remember you used to like it when I was able to make your eyes roll. Or, at least, when I could make them roll back into your head …”

You sigh, doing your best not to let on how much that comment made your face heat with decade-old memories of you two tangled up in your sheets. “There it is …” you begin, but he just leans into you a little more, those green eyes traveling all over your face as he speaks.

“I’m just reminiscing, that’s all. Can ya blame me? You’re still so beautiful …” Jake responds, one hand reaching out to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear. His fingers brush against your cheek as he pulls away and you hope you can explain away the goosebumps that erupt on your skin as a product of the ocean breeze. “And I spent a lot of time trying to get you all worked up back then. Force of habit.”

You could give into it.

Allow the sheer force of Jake’s charisma and good looks to carry you away on a wave of old memories. The chemistry that always fizzled between you is clearly still there, the butterflies that have laid dormant in your stomach all this time just waiting for an excuse to be let free once again. It would be easy.

And it would be good — you two had always been good at the physical stuff. He was so gorgeous in so many ways and surprisingly generous when you were in bed. (Jake always took pride in being the best of the best, after all).

But once you woke up tomorrow morning, after all of the awkward goodbyes and the promises to call, then what? Jake Seresin doesn’t commit; he made that clear.

And you were still bruised from your last mess of a relationship, your heart feeling tender and aching in your chest most days. There’s no way that this doesn’t end the same way it did a decade ago, with you sobbing uncontrollably and Jake moving on to the next beautiful girl who manages to hold his attention.

So, with a self-control you didn’t even know you possessed, you pull yourself out of Jake’s undertow.

“Seresin, I … that’s probably a bad idea,” you say softly, eyes dropping down to the tabletop in between you. “I just got out of a relationship and I’m not in a place —”

He cuts you off by tilting your chin up to look at him and then making a point to pull his hands back and keep them to himself.

“Hey, hey, I get it. No worries. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, darlin’” Jake explains in a rush. “I’m sorry about that. Like I said, force of habit.”

You huff out a laugh and another eye roll and you can see him fight a grin at your reaction. “Only you would describe flirting with someone as a habit, Jake.”

“Well, I’m one of a kind.”

“Shut up, Seresin,” you giggle, glad to be back on solid, friendly ground with him.

 Two hours later, Jake sent you off with a hug and his phone number as you and your friend climbed into an Uber and set off for home. She had a few questions about the “dreamboat” of a Naval aviator that you had apparently dated back in school, but was a little too excited about recounting her own evening to push you for details. It wasn’t until you arrived back at your apartment and collapsed on your couch that you realized Jake had been texting you the whole time you were in the car.

Unknown: It’s Jake 🫡😜🤠⭐️🍻🏈😉

Unknown: Hope you get home safe, beautiful. It was great to catch up with you.

Unknown: And I would be an embarrassment to the U.S. Navy if I didn’t at least offer to be your tour guide around San Diego

Unknown: I know all the best spots after all

Unknown: So text me if you want to grab lunch or something

Unknown: Or if you finally want to learn how to surf

Unknown: But give me fair warning beforehand, I remember how bad your balance is lol

 

You: lol I forgot you text every single thought in your brain

You: but having a tour guide sounds nice

You: we could get brunch this weekend and you can give me the highlights?

 

You had only just begun to take your shoes off, resigned to finally get off the couch, when your phone pinged.

 

Jake 🤠 🧡: I know just the place

You gave his text a quick thumbs up and got ready for bed smiling the whole time.

-—-—-—-—-—

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! I don’t know if I’m going to have a regular schedule with this or anything, but I will do my best! Thank you for reading about the absolute menace that is Jake Seresin

Tagging some people who asked:

@tvshowgirl81 @redbarn1995 @stoneyggirl @keepingitlokiii @averyhotchner @dizzybee03 @olliepig @lynnevanss @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem @mamaskillerqueen @kmc1989 @hookslove1592

[leahsgf]

Can we have a Katie McCabe x reader where the reader comes back to arsenal and is upset after not qualifying for the Olympics with the Lionesses and gf katie comforts her?

NOT YOUR FAULT - katie mccabe

katie mccabe x reader

i wrote this the day after the scotland game and have only just finished it up now so i’m sorry for the wait!

a sort of cloud loomed over you as you made your way through the arsenal gym, which was usually a place of comfort to you.

today was different. it had been a few days since the lionesses’ game against scotland and the realisation that you hadn’t qualified for the olympics had only just started to sink in for you, and unlike your teammates, who seemed to just bounce back from it and move on - everything around you football related was just a screaming reminder of the failure. your failure.

you should’ve done something. anything. to create more chances, create a different outcome. you had let them down, and you didn’t know how to live with that.

you hadn’t answered any of the messages you’d received online or elsewhere, not even those from fellow players, instead obsessing over the negative ones, that did nothing but confirm your doubts.

eyes were locked on you as you swiftly crossed the room, a specific set particularly burning.

you had yet to face your girlfriend, never mind speak to her since the loss, despite her best efforts, and you weren’t entirely sure that you could without absolutely crumbling.

your pace increased - exiting the gym as you heard the all too familiar sound of her footsteps trailing behind you, your initial hope to get through the day failing immediately as tears pricked at your eyes.

“y/n wait up!” she called after you, her walk becoming a jog and her irish accent filling the corridor as you made another turn.

she was always quicker than you, and you knew that she’d catch up to you with ease - a thought that was confirmed almost immediately after it crossed your mind as hands grasped at your shoulders from behind and guided you into an empty room, before turning you around to face her.

your eyes remained glued to the floor, in a desperate cling to the remains of your composure, which had pretty much vanished the minute you heard her voice.

“hey, look at me.” the softness of the tips of her fingers against your chin as she guided your head upwards to lock eyes with her own, was enough to make you completely melt, and the previously threatening tears to break free, spilling down your flushed cheeks.

her frown deepened as she took in you, freezing for a split second before pulling you into her arms, rocking the both of you gently and brushing away any stray tears.

the pair of you remained in silence as you cried into her shoulder, and she cradled your head, stroking your hair and pressing the odd kiss to it, letting her lips linger in an attempt to soothe you.

you knew that this was all part of football, and being many years into your career, you had expected yourself to be well adjusted to the times where things don’t go exactly how you planned, and losses - but you had always been over critical and unnecessarily hard on yourself, and katie knew this too.

“it is not your fault okay?” she finally spoke after letting you feel your emotions.

“i know you’re not going to believe me, but please try to trust me when i say that there’s nothing more you could’ve done - you played incredibly well. and i know that it hurts like hell, but sometimes things just aren’t meant to be, and i’ll be here for you through it all. but what i won’t allow is you blaming yourself for this, and i doubt any of the girls’ would either. now what do you say we head home sweetheart.”

“thank you”

“there’s my girl. i’m so proud of you baby, you know that? let’s head off then, i’ll look after you.”

-

katie was incredible at everything she did, no matter what it was. but her looking after you was something that she managed to do just perfectly, every single time.

she never once let your hand go as she lead you through your shared apartment, guiding you to the living room, where a fresh bouquet of flowers sat in the vase on the coffee table, and a card that read “so proud of you always - love, katie”

she never tried to force a fix to your issues, and let you feel your losses and low points, knowing that she couldn’t take away the feeling exactly, but she could take care of you, and remind you that she loved you, and would be by your side through anything and everything that life threw at you, and ultimately of your worth - which she would never let you forget.

and she just always knew exactly what to do, ushering you to sit down on the sofa, putting on your comfort show and insisting that you relax as she rushed around, running a bath for the pair of you and ordered your favourite takeout.

losses would always hurt, and you would undoubtedly be hard on yourself every time.

but with katie by your side paired with pizza and bubble baths you knew that you’d be alright, and you’d get back up and fight back to the negative voices in your mind, every time.

-

really wanted to finally finish this so the ending is kind of rushed - sorry! hope you enjoyed anyway, and please send me more requests!

[desperate-gay]

Honestly a leah fic with leah being absolutely down and for reader, she has the biggest crush, she thinks she’s being subtle but she’s not. Reader knows about and teases leah purposely, leah still thinking she’s being subtle

Obvious

Leah Williamson x fem!reader

“Ooo comparing hand sizes, aye? When’s the wedding?” Lucy teases, resting her arms on the top of your seat. The blonde next to you turns around and glares at her but stops hearing your laugh. Leah’s glare softens when she sees you smile, making Lucy snicker.

“Trust me, if there’s a wedding, you’re not invited.” Leah quips back.

“Hey hey hey, no need to be hasty, fringy. If you just make a mov-“ Keira stands up and slaps her hand over her mouth. You raise your eyebrows with a look of amusement, seeing everyone try to cover up your friend’s obvious feelings for you.

Of course, you know about Leah’s feelings. She doesn’t make it hard to see. The only thing that sucks is that she doesn’t see your obvious feelings for her. You’re too headstrong to make the first move; you want Leah to get the guts to do something. It’s very funny having to see all of your friends tease you two and then try to cover it up right after as if they’re afraid a big secret is being spilled.

“Lucy, for the sake of us all, shut your mouth and lay down,” Keira says and drags her girlfriend to sit down beside her, nodding at Leah, telling her she has no more teasing to deal with anymore.

You smile at the blonde next to you and realize your hands are still pressed against each other. A light blush flushes over Leah’s face when she feels your fingers interlock with hers.

“Do I make you nervous?” Leah whips her head to look at you and sees a slight smile on your face. She opens and closes her mouth not knowing what to say, but she is soon relaxed when she feels your head lay its way on her shoulder. “I like it when you’re all shy.” You whisper so quietly she almost doesn’t catch it.

—

The WSL season has finally started, and you have an away game against Manchester United. The team is heading inside the building in their little groups, most likely gossiping about the random drama that’s happening. You’re talking with Katie as you approach the door when a flash of a person in front of you cuts you off. Focusing your eyes back in front of you, you notice a familiar British blonde holding the door open for you. Without thinking, you quickly lean over and press a kiss on her cheek before continuing to walk into the building.

Leah is star-struck as she puts her hand on the same place your lips meet her skin. She follows you like a lost puppy, letting go of the door causing it to close on the previous person you were talking to.

“Oi! Am I chopped liver?” The Irish woman shouts, throwing her hands in the air with a roll of her eyes. “Ugh. I hate people that are in love.”

—

“Heads up!”

Before you can even register what was called out, a football comes flying at your head, causing you to fall over and wince at the pain.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come towards you.” Alessia rambles out from right next to you while you sit up and adjust your blurry vision. You wave her off and she offers you a hand to help you stand up.

“You’re good, I just didn’t hear-“

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? How many fingers am I holding up?” Someone interrupts you, holding your head and moving it in several different directions to see if you have any marks. You giggle, removing the hands from you, and placing them on the person’s sides.

“Leah, I’m okay. It was just a little hit and I was startled.” You reassured her, making her shoulders slump down and releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Yeah chill out, mate. It’s not like she’s marrying another woman.” Katie says while rolling her eyes at the other defender’s dramatics.

You let out another laugh when you see Leah begin to chase down the other woman and tackle her to the turf. Everyone who was crowded around you dispersed to their previous stations and continued with training.

“Katie, Leah, no biting!”

—

You’re softly humming to the song that's playing on the radio while staring at the buildings you’re passing by out the window. Leah offered you a ride to your house after your ride went off with a certain Australian, apparently completely forgetting of your existence, but you’re not going to complain. It gives you some alone time with the blonde.

“So here we are.” The girl announces. You didn’t even notice you were pulling up to your apartment until now. You turn your attention to the girl on the driver's side and thank her. Before you have a chance to open the door, the locks go off, confusing you right away. As you open your mouth to speak, a hand cups your jaw and pulls you in. Lips latch their way onto yours without any warning, but you easily sink into them and kiss back. When the kiss parts, Leah starts to stumble over her words before you cut her off with a small peck.

“You finally did it.” You smile with your thumbs stroking her tense jaw.

“Wait, what?”

“Leah, you can’t possibly think I haven’t noticed your feelings for me. I just want to know how you and our friends haven’t noticed my feelings for you.” The blonde stares at you with her jaw slack, trying to comprehend everything that just happened inside her car.

After a few seconds of pure silence, she blurts out, “Go on a date with me?”

“Just text me when and where.”

With that, you hop out of the car, grab your gear, and wink at the amazed girl. You can’t wait to finally see what’s to come.

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Hold You Close

Plot: A night out with the Greyhounds, a short-lived stint as head coach and a massive data leak bring on a full week for Y/n.

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: language, alcohol, sexual undertones (nude leak), slut-shaming

A/N: What do you get when you write a football fic with very little knowledge of football? This.

To be honest, this chapter feels more like filler and felt very awkward to write. But even if it’s a tiny step, every chapter moves the story along a little bit. Very much a Keeley and Jamie chapter, so enjoy!

——————

Winning suited Richmond.

A four-game win streak had brightened the halls of Nelson Road Stadium. The whole city was in the best mood it had been since the start of the season. Total Football, though it had taken time, was leading them to victory week after week.

After their fourth straight win, the Greyhounds proclaimed a club night. After months of declining, Y/n finally accepted their invitation to join. Going clubbing was…more than a little out of her comfort zone, but the boys weren’t going to take no for an answer. And truthfully, she wanted to celebrate their good fortune just as much as they did.

Sat in the VIP section of a London nightclub, the Greyhounds shouted to one another over the thumping bass. Colin and Y/n were sat in a corner, Colin entertaining her with a story from training the other day. When their glasses were emptied, they headed to the bar to get a refill.

“Okay, fine,” Y/n gestured to Colin’s bottle, “Gimme.”

Colin handed over his vodka, Y/n poured a bit into her empty glass and threw it back.

She grimaced, letting out a groan.

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Colin replied.

“No, it is,” Y/n screwed her eyes shut, “It really is.”

Y/n wasn’t buzzed, but she was certainly more relaxed than usual. It felt good to be out, to be amongst people she liked, to laugh. It made all the lingering anxiety in her head fall hush.

Colin was laughing at her alcohol tolerance just as a man who didn’t belong to their party came up to the bar. He stood beside Y/n and flashed an easy smile.

“You weren’t saving this space, were you?”

“No,” Y/n’s voice was strained, coughing from the vodka, “Go for it.”

The man flagged down the bartender, “Something strong, please. But,” he pointed to Y/n, “Not whatever she had.”

Feeling like she could see properly again, Y/n chuckled. “Smart choice.”

“I’m Paul,” the now-named stranger held out his hand.

She shook it, “Y/n.”

Colin stayed silent beside Y/n, smiling and sipping his drink.

“Are you here with friends?” Paul asked in a thick Irish accent.

“Uh, sort of,” Y/n glanced back the corner of the room the Greyhounds occupied, “After-hours work thing.”

“Ah,” Paul nodded and thankfully didn’t follow her gaze, “Don’t know how many people want to spend a Saturday night with their co-workers.”

Y/n shrugged, trying to give as little information as possible. “Bit of an unconventional workplace.”

“Okay, well, now you’ve got to tell me what you do,” Paul said plainly.

“Ha,” Y/n smiled, “If I do, I’ll never get rid of you. Trust me.”

“No, no,” Paul held up both hands, “You tell me, I get my drink, and then I leave with a useless fact about a stranger whose name I’ve already forgotten.”

Y/n laughed again. This particular club didn’t strike her as somewhere you’d meet a genuinely nice guy. It was a surprise, and if nothing else, it was pleasant conversation.

“You’re…” Paul decided to start guessing, “Personal assistant to some 5-star chef.”

“If that were true, I wouldn’t have so many takeaway menus in my kitchen drawers,” Y/n replied, visions of Christmas dinner two months before flashing through her head.

“Ah,” Paul winced, strike one, “You’re…a dancer and you’re out with your company.”

Y/n scoffed, “I’m flattered, but no.”

Paul pressed a finger to his lips, twisting fully to face Y/n. It was the most polite way of checking someone out she’d seen.

He pointed towards her, “You’re-“

“There you are,” Jamie exclaimed, sliding up to Y/n, “Babe, I was looking for ya.”

Y/n’s mouth hung open, ready to reply to Paul but struck speechless by the interruption.

“Told ya, waiter could’ve brought us refills,” Jamie slid an arm around Y/n’s shoulders and tugged her into his side. “Didn’t have to do it yourself,” he finally took his eyes off Y/n and turned to Paul, “Good night, eh, lad?”

With nothing more than two sentences, Jamie had sent a clear message to Paul that his presence was not required, needed or wanted in the slightest.

“Yeah,” Paul nodded in defeat, “Good night. Hope the same for you,” he gave Y/n a thin smile, “Cheers.”

Y/n awkwardly held up a hand, waving him goodbye, before turning to Jamie. “And what was that?”

“Me savin’ ya,” he answered as if it were obvious. His eyes followed Paul across the room till he was satisfied by the distance. “These places are lousy with creeps.”

“But he wasn’t,” Y/n argued, though it wasn’t really an argument. She hadn’t felt one way or the other about Paul. “He was just nice.”

“I can vouch,” Colin made his presence known again, “Saw the whole thing.”

Details mattered very little to Jamie. The truth of it was, he wasn’t even sure why he had stopped the conversation. The moment he’d glanced over at Colin and Y/n’s spot on the couch and seen it was empty, he went on high alert. Colin could fuck off wherever he wanted, but not knowing where Y/n was unsettled him.

And seeing some guy, creep or no creep, chatting Y/n up and making her laugh felt wrong. Very wrong. So wrong.

“‘Course he was nice,” Jamie replied, “The good ones are always nice at first. That’s how they get ya.”

Y/n watched Jamie mansplain men to her, something she thought was impossible to do. Neither of them really realized his arm was still around her, effectively proclaiming to the club that she was off-limits.

“Well, congratulations,” Y/n took the glass Colin handed her, annoyed yet unable to stop from smirking, “You protected me from harmless small talk with the first person I’ve spoken to outside of work since I started with you clowns.”

Jamie could sense the sarcasm, he didn’t particularly care. The threat had been neutralized. He shrugged, “You’re welcome.”

—————————

A few days later, Y/n was sat at her breakfast table. She watched the busy street below out her window. There was a peace to the hustle and bustle of Richmond that differed from the rest of London. Everyone had a destination, but no one was really in a hurry to get there. It was one of the things that she liked most about living in the middle of it all.

A ‘ding’ from her phone redirected her attention. A Google and Twitter alert. There was a good chance it was pap photos coming out from the club’s night out. A bit late, but still possible.

Y/n held her breath as she reached for her phone. There weren’t a lot of flattering angles to have captured them at by the end of the evening. She tapped the screen to see it was…Keeley…who was trending.

“What…” Y/n mumbled, dropping her fork and typing in her passcode to search further.

Not pap photos. Worse. So much worse.

“What…” she breathed.

There’d been a massive leak of private photos and videos, mostly from celebrities. Among them was Keeley. A racy video of the former model from a few years ago was spreading like wildfire across the digital landscape.

“Oh my gosh,” Y/n whispered as she scrolled various reactions and unfortunate screenshots. She threw her phone down when clips began to fill her feed. The whole country was watching it. Talking about it. Laughing at it.

Y/n scarfed down the rest of her eggs, grabbed her keys and hurried out the door.

—————————

Keeley nearly didn’t answer the door. When the insistent banging didn’t stop, she caved and peeled herself off her bedroom floor. She peeked out the window to see one of the only people she felt like speaking to at the moment.

“I just saw,” Y/n blurted out as soon as Keeley opened the door, “I’m so sorry.”

Keeley exhaled, putting her hands over her face, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know what the fuck-“

“Hey, hey,” Y/n placed her hands on Keeley’s shoulders and guided her inside, “C’mon.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Keeley continued, barely registering that she was moving and that Y/n had shut the front door, “My family’s gonna see it. The team. Our clients!”

“I know,” Y/n replied, sitting them both down on the couch, “But the clients don’t matter right now.”

They did, terribly so, but Y/n wasn’t going to bring that up.

Raking her hands through her hair, Keeley stumbled for words. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m so fucking embarrassed.”

Y/n rubbed a hand over her boss’s arm, “I’m so sorry, Keeley.”

There was no way to fix any part of the awful situation, but Y/n, just by being there, made Keeley feel 1% better. It was better to hurt with someone than to do it alone. Jack had just left and the last thing Keeley wanted to be at the moment was by herself.

“You came all the way here because you saw?” Keeley asked, struck by the sentiment.

“Well,” Y/n shrugged, “Yeah.”

Since Amsterdam, Keeley had seen Y/n’s walls come down, or weaken at least. She hadn’t pushed too hard on the matter, she rather enjoyed the new Y/n. But this, this was entirely out of character.

Keeley threw her arms around her neck, grateful and in need of a hug.

A few months ago, Y/n would have shimmied out as soon as she could. But this wasn’t then, and she tightly wrapped her arms around Keeley, doing what little she could to comfort her.

“This is fucked up,” Y/n sighed.

“So fucked up,” Keeley whimpered, stuck somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

Y/n pulled back, still holding on, “We’re gonna get you through this. I promise.”

Keeley took a shaky breath, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/n smiled, “C’mon, KJPR. Dealing with shitty headlines is our superpower.”

Keeley managed a laugh before digging back into Y/n, the two of them locked in a heavyhearted embrace.

—————————

“No, Miss Jones has no comment on the data leak,” Y/n repeated into her phone, shutting down the fifth reporter of the morning, “Have a lovely day.”

Hanging up, she let her forehead hit her desk. It had been a full day since Keeley’s video hit the internet and she could only pray people lost interest and moved on soon. She had made Keeley promise not to answer any calls, instead forwarding the reporters to her. Most of them were men, but all of them were intrusive.

“A dick pic leaks on the internet,” she grumbled and dragged herself out of her chair, “And fuck all, but armies mobilize for a naked woman.”

Y/n grabbed her notebook and left her office, jogging down the staircase to go about her day as normally as she could.

“Hey, Y/n,” Ted called, exiting his office just as she entered the hallway. A vaguely familiar child was walking beside him.

“Hey,” Y/n half-smiled.

“Haven’t gotten a chance to introduce you,” Ted put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, “This is my son, Henry. Henry, this is Y/n.”

Henry smiled up at Y/n, “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Y/n realized she’d seen him in a picture on Ted’s desk, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hey, listen,” Ted pointed towards the stairs, “I gotta talk to Rebecca, won’t be more than a half hour or so. Would you mind watchin’ Henry?”

“Uh…” Y/n sputtered, “I mean, sure, yeah, but don’t you have training?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ted quickly said, his mind was clearly somewhere else. He felt around his pockets and pulled out a small box. “Yeah, you know what? Y’all are gonna start training for me.”

While Henry’s face lit up, Y/n’s electrified with anxiety.

“Yeah,” Ted grinned, looking to his son, “There you go. You can go back home, tell all your friends you got to coach a football team. How ‘bout that?”

“Yeah,” Henry said with great enthusiasm.

“Uh, Ted,” Y/n waved a hand, “While Henry,” she smiled for his sake, “May be really good at coaching, I’m definitely not qualified.”

Ted waved a supportively dismissive hand back, “Ain’t nothin’ to it. Get ‘em started on warmups, I’ll be down before they really get goin’,” he handed Y/n the box, “Got this for Roy, but he ain’t gonna use it. You go on.”

With Henry looking up at her like she held the key to his happiness, Y/n didn’t have much of a choice.

“Alright,” she exhaled, feigning excitement, “Let’s go coach a football team.”

“Thanks,” Ted kneeled down to Henry, “Listen to what Y/n says, yeah?”

“Will do, Mr. Magoo,” Henry gave his dad a thumbs up.

Y/n’s eyes widened at the phrasing, there were two of them.

“Alright,” Y/n clapped her hands together as Ted left them on their own, “Let me go set this back in my office and we’ll head out, yeah?”

“Okay,” Henry nodded, following Y/n up the stairs, “So what do you do here?”

Y/n sighed, “Well, I help run the social media accounts. I help the boys with their interviews. Y’know how you see football or baseball players on commercials? I help those happen.”

“Wow,” Henry said as they got to Y/n’s office, “That sounds cool.”

Y/n slid her notebook onto her desk, and faced Henry, “Yeah, it kind of is.” Anywhere else, even she would admit her job was boring, but Richmond had changed that. “Let’s see what your dad gave me.”

Opening the tiny box revealed a plastic yellow whistle. Y/n chuckled, Roy definitely wouldn’t be using this.

“So why’d you come to England?” Henry continued to ask questions, “If you’re American.”

Omitting key details, Y/n slid the whistle around her neck. “I came over for school and loved it so much I just never left.”

“Do you ever miss America?” Henry stayed next to Y/n as they descended the stairs.

That was trickier to disguise. If Y/n was honest, she didn’t miss her home country. It was hard to miss the place all her worst memories had occurred. England had been a refuge before becoming her true home.

“Sometimes,” Y/n replied, guiding Henry down the hall, “I have a little sister who still lives there. I miss her all the time…” she smiled, “And Arby’s.”

Henry agreed just as they reached the doors that would take them outside.

“Alright,” Y/n pressed her hands to the door, “Now these guys are the best in the whole country, in my opinion, so we can’t go easy on them.”

“Got it,” Henry nodded.

“We’re gonna have to work them really hard,” Y/n added.

“I agree.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes, “You ready?”

Henry grinned, “Ready.”

Theatrically, Y/n threw the doors open and they marched down the tunnel.

The boys were stretching and conversing and had yet to notice their coaches were missing. Y/n and Henry headed over to the dugout, Y/n thanking her morning self for deciding on wearing sneakers.

“Do you have a favorite player?” She asked.

“Jamie Tartt,” Henry answered without hesitation, “The first time I visited, he signed my shirt.”

Y/n’s heart fluttered with warmth, “That was nice of him.”

“On my soccer team back home, I’m #9,” Henry continued, “Just like him.”

Y/n’s eyes scanned the group of Greyhounds, finding #9 laughing about something with Isaac. There were probably hundreds, thousands of kids who looked up to Jamie Tartt, but Henry’s admiration was something special.

“Well,” Y/n crossed her arms, “We’ll make sure Jamie has plenty to do.”

Clapping her hands to get the Greyhounds’ attention, Y/n and Henry stepped onto the pitch. “Alright, boys, here’s the deal. Coach has appointed me and Henry here,” she put her hands on Henry’s shoulders, “As your new coaches for the next thirty minutes.”

The team was understandably confused but amused once they saw Henry’s bright eyes. Training was to double as babysitting.

“Now, you’re dealing with one of America’s next top footballers,” Y/n jiggled Henry playfully, “And a woman whose life you all have made incredibly colorful, particularly last weekend…” she gave a thick grin. After their celebration at the club, many of the Greyhounds had needed to be poured into cabs. The task fell to the most sober of them, and Y/n had taken little joy in wrangling them into the backseats. “No one’s going easy on anyone today.”

The boys ‘oohed’ and laughed amongst themselves.

“Alright,” she shouted, “One lap,” Y/n gave a sharp blow on the whistle, “Let’s go!”

All credit to them, the team obeyed orders and set off around the edge of the pitch.

As he passed by, Jamie stopped to give Henry a fist bump.

“How ya been, lad?”

“Good,” Henry grinned, his spirits had lifted even higher the moment Jamie walked in his direction.

“Good,” Jamie stood to his full height to face Y/n, smirking, “Don’t get enough of this with Roy?”

With mere inches between their faces, Y/n blew the whistle smugly, “Fallin’ behind there, Tartt.”

Jamie set off with a smile and ran to catch up to his teammates. Y/n being on the pitch was a surprising, but welcome start to his day.

The boys were about halfway around the pitch when Y/n and Henry started forming their game plan.

“What should we have them do next?”

Henry thought a moment, “What about knee kicks? That’s my favorite exercise.”

“I like it,” Y/n walked across the grass to retrieve one of the balls, “But you better be ready to show them how it’s done.”

Henry’s entire face lit up, the glow radiating onto Y/n’s knowing she’d made it happen. She was going to make sure he went home with the best stories.

The Greyhounds came around the bend, well and warmed up.

“What next, Coach Y/n?” Dani asked enthusiastically.

“Now,” Y/n set the ball on the grass and kicked it to Henry, “You’re in the hands of Coach Lasso.”

Y/n stepped to the side to give Henry the spotlight. The boys all cheered him on as he came to join them, holding the ball under his arm.

“We’re gonna do a knee kick contest,” he said proudly, “We’ll see who can go the longest, and,” Henry scanned the group, “Jamie’ll go first.”

Jamie pressed his fingers to his puffed out chest, stepping forward, “I’m honored.”

Henry tossed him the ball, Jamie easily caught it. Y/n popped the whistle back in her mouth and it shrieked.

“Begin!”

Jamie bounced the ball from knee to knee, the team forming a ring around him to watch. They started cheering each time Jamie’s body made contact, Henry the loudest of them all. He kept it going about thirty seconds before losing it.

Y/n spared him a clap, purposefully holding back, “Not bad.”

Jamie frowned at her, the tips of his lips still curling up.

“Who’s next, Henry?” Y/n asked.

“Sam,” he answered.

Jamie launched the ball at his teammate, Sam caught it and they switched spots.

He lasted the same amount of time as Jamie, Isaac lasted twenty five seconds, Dani lasted forty, Colin lasted twenty eight.

“Alright,” Y/n clapped as Bumbercatch finished his turn, “I think it’s time you boys learned from a true professional.”

Henry stepped up, taking Y/n’s smile as his cue, and caught the ball from Bumbercatch. The boys chanted his name, surrounding him in gleeful anticipation.

Henry began to kick, feeding off the support of the Greyhounds. Y/n stepped back a few feet and pulled out her phone, snapping a few pictures for Ted.

Out of all the Premier League teams filled with cocky young men earning million dollar paychecks, Y/n couldn’t imagine there were many who would behave like the Greyhounds. They were jumping up and down, cheering and counting for Henry as he bounced the ball. It was all so genuine, and they didn’t even realize the extent of what they were doing. They were giving Henry memories he’d cherish forever.

Eventually, Henry kicked the ball for Sam to catch and the boys went wild. Jamie leaped into the air and started victoriously running with Henry, the rest of them following.

Y/n hit the whistle, “Well, I think we can all agree Henry’s the winner.”

The team agreed quite vocally.

“You haven’t gone yet,” Henry called.

“Oh,” Y/n shook her head, “I-“

“No, no, no,” Colin pointed to Y/n, “Boyo’s right. Everyone’s gotta give it a go.”

“That’s right,” Jamie clasped his hands together, “Fair’s fair, Coach.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, stepping onto the pitch to supportive hoots and hollers. Sam threw her the ball and she got into position, taking a deep breath. She’d never touched a football in her life.

Dropping the ball, she clumsily passed from one knee to the other. Henry and the Greyhounds cheered her on as they had each other. She lasted about ten seconds before she felt herself losing it and kicked it across the field. It didn’t make it to the goal, but even Y/n was impressed by how far it travelled.

The Greyhounds went wild, making a massive deal of her minimal accomplishment. A few of them punched her in the arm or high fived her.

“Alright,” Y/n laughed it off, “Henry, what’s next?”

“Corner kicks,” he said decisively, “Last one to grab the ball’s a rotten egg. Go!”

Henry took off before he’d finished speaking, the Greyhounds following. They spent the next ten minutes practicing corner kicks, once again, Henry and the boys insisting that Y/n took part. Pulling closer to the net than the pros, she was able to score a goal, resulting in wild cheers. Dani picked her up and spun her around and Jamie slung an arm around her neck the seconds she was back on the ground. When Henry scored, the Greyhounds lifted him up on their shoulders and ran him around the field.

When Ted gathered himself and headed back out to the pitch, he stopped short at the sight before him. His son, having the time of his life, surrounded by the team. And Y/n, facilitating it all, but enjoying every bit of it herself.

Ted smiled, deciding to watch as long as he could until someone spotted him.

—————————

Later in the day, Y/n drove to the KJPR offices. She hadn’t heard anything from Keeley and wanted to stay as close as she could to help in whatever way she could.

Y/n knocked at Keeley’s door and entered, “Hi.”

Keeley was sat at her desk, pouring over something on her laptop. Most likely, it had nothing to do with business. “Hi,” she mumbled.

“Looking at Twitter isn’t going to help anything,” Y/n sighed, entering the room.

Keeley didn’t look up from her screen, “It’s Facebook.”

Y/n scoffed, “That definitely won’t help anything.”

Keeley tore her eyes away, closing out the browser and turning to Y/n. “How bad’s it been?”

“Oh, Daily Mail were eager to talk,” Y/n fell into the chair opposite her boss, “Didn’t think that was the best avenue to go.”

Barely breathing a chuckle, Keeley ran her hands through her hair.

“I’m not letting anyone get close to you,” Y/n reassured, “And the good news is, the press’ll move on within a few days.”

Keeley glanced up with doubtful eyes.

Y/n regretted the words as soon as she’d said them, “Albeit, they’ll run with this all week. But still,” she reached over and held out her hand, “We’re gonna get through this.”

Keeley exhaled and took Y/n’s hand, squeezing like she was her lifeline.

A knock hit the door and they turned to see Barbara. Keeley did her best to appear as if all was well.

“Is now a good time, Ms. Jones?” Barbara asked, sparing Y/n a polite smile.

“Yes, of course,” Keeley answered perkily, “Yeah.”

Barbara came to stand beside Y/n’s chair, holding a single sheet of paper. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

Keeley looked like she was on the verge of tears, “Thank you, Barbara.”

“Um,” Barbara turned to Y/n, “Does someone have the press-“

Y/n held up a hand, “Got it covered.”

“Good,” she nodded, turning back to Keeley and handing her the sheet, “Jack asked me to give you this.”

“What is it?” Keeley asked.

“It’s a statement,” Barbara replied.

Keeley scanned the text before reading it aloud, “”Allow me to first offer my sincerest apologies,” her brows popped up, “”I deeply regret that video that some of you have seen online. I’m beyond embarrassed, and I never should have made this video in the first place.”

Y/n’s lips parted, even Barbara averted her gaze.

“‘I hope you can forgive me while I learn and grow,’” Keeley finished, looking up to Barbara confusedly.

“Jack thought you could post it across your socials,” Barbara said, “But maybe not Facebook, ‘cause that’s just for grandparents and racists now, isn’t it?”

In her despair, Keeley managed to give a gentle smile and Barbara didn’t miss it as her cue to excuse herself.

Y/n sat still at the desk, her mind flooding with rage. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that the “statement” had been written by a man. How could private property leak and somehow it could be turned around to be the victim’s fault? Worse, how could Jack be alright with it?

“Do you think,” Keeley stared at the letter, “I should put it out?”

In answering, Y/n wasn’t just giving business advice, she was wading into Jack and Keeley’s relationship, something that was entirely off limits. Clubbing with the boys was one thing, relationship talk was way too personal.

“I…” Y/n struggled, “I really don’t think it’s-“

“Please,” Keeley’s eyes snapped up to Y/n, “Don’t do that. I need your honest opinion,” she took a breath, “Do you think this is the right thing to do?”

Y/n had never seen Keeley be so firm, nor had anyone ever called her out on her hesitation. It was a snap back to the reality of the situation.

“Absolutely not,” she answered, speaking with total confidence, “This isn’t a statement, it’s shaming. You dare to do what most of these corporate fuckers do with their mistresses with someone you love, someones steals it from you, and it’s somehow your fault?” Y/n grimaced with rage, “You have nothing to apologize for. You’re the one who got screwed over, you’re the one who’s owed an apology. It is not the other way around.”

Y/n paused, trying to collect herself. “Keeley…please don’t put this out. For all women who have ever had something like this happen, just…please.”

Keeley nodded, as if it only confirmed what she was already thinking.

“Look, you and Jack are…you and Jack and you need to talk about this, but,” Y/n sighed, taking Keeley’s hand once more, “Don’t do it.”

The two of them sat in silence, Keeley eventually folding up the paper and rising from her seat.

“Is Rebecca in today?”

“Yeah,” Y/n answered, “Probably expecting you.”

Keeley nodded as she grabbed her purse, “Tea?”

Y/n frowned as she gathered her purse, “I can’t. Ted’s got a presser.”

The women exited the office together, riding the elevator down without a single word spoken. When they reached the parking lot, they went their separate ways.

“Keeley,” Y/n called once she’d reached her car, “Do I need to…talk to Roy or anything? Make sure he doesn’t speak to the press?”

“No,” Keeley paused her keys in their slot. It was an uncomfortable topic, but PR didn’t care about comfort. “Not, uh…no, not Roy.”

Y/n waited to see if there was more to the answer. At least she was spared a deeply awkward conversation with Roy. The extent of their relationship was a mutual love of yelling at Jamie. She just prayed whichever ex of Keeley’s the video was meant for kept their mouth shut.

“Okay,” she decided not to push, “Hey,” she drew Keeley’s attention one last time, trying to keep her smile, “We’ve got this.”

Keeley gave a watery one back. If she didn’t have Jack’s support, she knew she had someone’s. “Yeah.”

—————————

It wasn’t often that there was so much work it warranted coming in on a Saturday. But a resort chain wanted Dani to do an endorsement for them and the only time their PR department could speak was the weekend. Plus, damage control for Keeley had taken up the lions share of Y/n’s week.

She was sat at her desk, returning an email and waiting for the phone to ring. It was kind of nice having the place to herself, but strange for Nelson Road to be completely silent. Usually from her office, Y/n could hear the sound of the boys conversing loudly down the stairs or Ted’s whistle on the pitch.

Her cell dinged, louder because of the quiet. Y/n picked it up to see it was a text from Jamie.

What you up to?

Y/n snapped a quick picture of her desk and fired it off.

Waiting for the call proved to be tedious as the man she was supposed to speak to was late. She began to scroll social media, her phone having alerted her to the fact that Ted was trending. She found that he and Beard had taken Henry to a West Ham match. A photo of the three of them was flooding the football community.

Where she might have resented Ted months ago, or anguished over the clean up she’d have to do, Y/n couldn’t help but laugh. There was a story to be told and she was sure she’d hear it on Monday. It also didn’t escape her that Beard had made a point of coming in full AFC Richmond attire.

“Damn right,” she said to herself.

Knock knock.

“Fucking hell,” Y/n exclaimed, her chair rolling back a few inches.

Jamie grinned, “Sorry.”

“No, no,” Y/n held her hand to her chest, “My heart needed to be reset.”

“What’re you doin’ here?” Jamie asked, shoving into the office.

“Dani’s got a deal with a resort,” she answered, rolling back to her desk, “This was the only day they could talk.”

Jamie nodded, wandering around the room. For all the time they spent together, he never had much of a reason to be in Y/n’s office.

Y/n got a good look at Jamie’s outfit, “And…what are we wearing?”

Jamie turned on his heel, looking down at himself. He saw nothing controversial about the vest, hoodie and joggers combo. “Fashion,” he answered, gesturing down his body.

“Right,” Y/n replied as she checked her inbox. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to his particular taste in clothing. “Where’ve you been today?”

“Eh, stopped by Keeley’s,” he answered, coming to sit down across the desk, “See how she was doin’.”

“Oh,” Y/n replied, glancing back at her computer before two loose pieces in her mind connected and stilled her. Why did Jamie have any reason to check in on Keeley if not…?

“How, uh,” Y/n stuttered, “How’s she doing?” She hadn’t spoken to Keeley yet, unsure as to how she’d handled the conversation with Jack.

Jamie shrugged, “She’s alright. I, eh…” he scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah, she’s okay.”

Y/n looked up and smiled, suddenly feeling like she was intruding on something deeply personal. “Good.”

By now, Jamie was a pro at reading her expressions. If not the intricacies, the general vibe. He pointed a finger, “What’s that face?”

“What face?” Y/n asked.

“That face,” Jamie moved a little closer in his chair, “Everything’s fine but it’s not, you make that face.”

Y/n attempted to shrug it off, wanting to shrug out of the entire situation. “Jamie, I’m fine. I’m glad Keeley’s okay, glad you went to check on her.”

Jamie watched carefully, trying to decode the layers of what she was saying and, more importantly, not saying. He retracted his finger into his fist when he guessed.

“Oh.”

Y/n’s eyes darted up from her laptop screen and back down.

“How’d you not know that?”

“Know what?”

A single laugh and Jamie smiled, “You’re a lot of things, but you ain’t dumb.”

Y/n grimaced, wishing she could disappear into thin air. Moments like these made her miss her boundaries. Isolated as they kept her, they had merit.

“I didn’t know you two…” she awkwardly pursed her lips and stared down at her keyboard.

“All that research,” Jamie smiled at her awkwardness, “Didn’t look into that bit?”

“It’s not my job to know who’s sleeping with who,” Y/n replied quickly, hating how she’d phrased that.

Jamie hummed, “Kinda is.”

Public relations did involve handling all types of headlines. Personal and otherwise.

“Well, you didn’t tell me either,” Y/n retorted.

“I thought you knew,” Jamie enunciated with a laugh.

Y/n couldn’t place what changed, but knowing that her boss and the person who was effectively her closest friend had dated made her feel…uneasy. Knowing such an intimate video had been made for someone she knew, she felt like she’d seen some side of Keeley and Jamie not meant for her to ever know about.

“Right,” Y/n spread her hands over her desk, “Are there any more relationships, past, present or potential, in this club that I need to know about?”

Jamie thought a moment, deciding to exclude any and all locker room talk he’d been present for regarding Y/n. It had started the second she’d walked through the door, dying down and picking back up every once in a while.

“You’re safe,” Jamie replied, finding her discomfort cute.

Any further conversation was blissfully halted as Y/n’s desk phone rang. Finally. She moved to pick it up but was met with Jamie’s hand fending her off.

“Jamie, what-“

Jamie shushed her, nudging her hand away. He lifted the phone off its base and flopped back into his chair.

“Ms. Y/l/n’s office,” he greeted, his Mancunian accent disappearing to turn posh and nasally, “How may I help you?”

Y/n covered her mouth to silence her snort. She waved for the phone with her free hand.

“And she knows why you’re calling?” Jamie continued, sliding away from Y/n’s grasp. “Hold, please.”

He covered the microphone with his palm and smiled. Y/n’s annoyance was a poor mask over her joy.

“It’s for you,” he whispered.

Y/n shook her head and yanked the phone out of his grip. “Hey, Oscar,” she greeted, “Glad we could finally touch base.”

Jamie fell back in his seat, content to wait and watch her take the call. He was happy to stay and bother her as long as he could.

And Y/n would let him, without hesitation.

———————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @mentalistfan @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

[firstfullmoon]

This week we didn’t meet. I hate that. The  bed is rumpled. I go out onto the lawn. The  stars are hid in heavy haze.  The only moon my lit room. I put my hand into the beam that falls upon a garden chair. You’ve touched that hand, and it’s touched you. I’ve little to complain of. In fact, I’m not complaining. I find it on these hot nights, hard to fall asleep. If you were here! You almost were. Then something  came up. Back  to bed. I’m reading about Byron and his last love, la Guiccioli. I identify with her, afraid of losing him. When you’re down, I get scared. What if boredom should set in? On your side, not on mine. I put my hand on your side of the bed. I see you there as I  saw you sleep  there last week. We’re not like Byron and his Teresa, we don’t play games. (Byron, by the way, was great! So, in her way, was she.) At least, the games we  play are sex games, not the kind that come from ennui. God damn this hot  and restless night. I was asleep and then a dream that  you were angry with me woke me. I can’t quite shake it off. I know it isn’t true. You’re not. It’s hot: I thought we’d  meet: we can’t: I felt let down. I get the downs sometimes too. And how. I trust you. You’re as straight as anyone I’ve ever known. I hate it when you’re  blue. You plunge so deep into it. I feel then I’m  in the dark and can’t quite touch you. Perhaps I needn’t, shouldn’t try. I respect your inner life. You have Irish moods (and eyes). I do too. I— what is it that I want to say? To say this isn’t  a complaint. It’s how I feel on a hot night in August, 1972, missing you.

— James Schuyler, “August Night,” in Collected Poems

[sunflowersandsapphires]

A Brewing Storm

In All The World, Chapter 1.2

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: This series of one-shots follows Matt and the music teacher he is steadily falling for, despite her distant familial connection to The Punisher.

warnings: angsty Matthew, Matt and Frank being little shits (mostly Frank), fluff, hints at smut

w/c: 2.3k

a/n: I KNOW THIS DIDN’T WIN THE POLL BUT I WASN’T ABLE TO FINISH THE OTHER FICLET, I’M SORRY! I hope this is a decent consolation prize for you all. The comfort piece should be done by next week! 

There are a few things mentioned in this chapter that I won’t go into unless people are interested but here’s the rundown: Matt and Reader started their relationship after her testimony, though the trial had not yet ended. The ABA code of ethics doesn’t really have much to say about attorneys and witnesses, but the general rule is after they’ve testified (as long as the trial isn’t discussed) they can begin a personal relationship. The ethics rules are much more concerned about lawyers and their clients than witnesses. However, Matt asked her out during proceedings so, in his head, he did something wrong. I wasn’t planning on writing their beginning, but if that’s something you all are interested in, let me know!

Trusting the men to keep their word, you left Frank standing over the door mat while you grabbed some bath towels and a jacket he'd forgotten on your couch months ago. Returning to a room frigid with their disdain for each other, you stifled an eye roll while you passed over the items in your hold. “Here. Dry off if you can. Are you hungry? I can set another place for dinner.”

Matt stiffened from his seat at the table, blowing an annoyed breath out of his nose. Smirking in satisfaction, Frank rubbed the towel over his hair, splattering your floor with leftover rain. “Sure, kid.”

Pretending not to see your boyfriend's twisted frown, you padded over to the stove to scoop the remaining noodles into a clean bowl.

“Ok, it's not much, but I wasn't planning on cooking for three–”

“How long?” Came Frank's curt question.

Running the tip of your tongue against your molars, you blew out a breath, shoving Frank's food over to him.

“Um...”

“Eight months.” Matt answered, chest puffing out ever so slightly. Swatting at him with a glare, you grimaced as Frank gnashed his teeth again.

“For fuck's sake. During the trial?”

“Well, that is how we met.” Matt snapped back, posture rounding as the Devil slipped back into control.

“And you thought what, Red? That you could treat my case like your own personal dating pool? You of all people know how dangerous that was for her.”

“I think we are all familiar with the risks taken last summer.” You retorted, taking your seat at Matt's side, letting your knee brush against his in what you hoped was a grounding touch.

What Frank was insinuating wasn't far fetched. You had run into trouble after coming forward as a character witness, but your relationship with Matt hadn't caused that, your role in the trial had. No matter how much guilt he carried over the incident, your boyfriend was in no way responsible for the actions of the Kitchen Irish. Matt regularly got stuck in his head, castigating himself for giving in to temptation. Despite making it ostentatiously clear that you were interested in him from the moment you met, your self-conscious partner was convinced he’d somehow violated an unwritten code of ethics and manipulated you into going out with him. It had taken months of promises before Matt began to believe that your consent had been honest and voluntary the whole time–his fragile acceptance would surely combust if Frank continued to cast more doubt over the dubious start of your relationship. He didn’t need anyone’s help to make him feel like a monster.

Matt nudged your knee with his in response to your touch, though his expression was stony. You could see his walls going up brick by brick, his confidence waning as someone confirmed his worst fears.

“Are 'we'? Cause I, for one, ain’t dyin’ for you to be bleedin’ out in my bathroom again.” Frank hissed, eyes still locked on Matt as he referenced your previous injuries. “You think she's safe with you? You can’t protect her. Fuck's sake, Red–you're covered in blood at her table right now. She doesn't need to be dragged into your bullshit–”

“Enough.” You snarled, cutting Frank off. Inhaling deeply, you lowered your voice and softened your tone. “Matt, can you give us a minute, love?”

Ignoring Frank's sneer at the pet name, you placed a hand over Matt's knee, rubbing circles into it with your thumb. “Can you wait for me in my room? I'll be right in.”

“I can just go home,” Matt shifted uncomfortably, looking defeated and agonized as he slowly clambered to his feet.

“I’ll only be a minute, love. Don't leave yet please.” You squeezed his hand where it hung limp by his side, hoping that his barely noticeable nod was conveying his true intentions.

You set your jaw, watching Matt stalk into the bedroom before whirling towards Frank who was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, looking all too pleased with himself. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Frank?”

“There ain’t nothin’—”

“Nope, it's not your turn yet.” You bit out, cutting him off. “I'm not unhappy to see you, because it means you're still breathing, but you have some damn nerve coming into my house and speaking to my boyfriend as if I'm not in the room. I am not an object, nor am I anyone’s property. You do not get to dictate what is or isn't good for me, regardless of how you feel about it.“

Frank winced slightly, but he didn’t make any other indication that your words were getting through his thick skull.

Sitting back in your seat, you clasped your hands in your lap. “I appreciate you looking out for me, Frank. Lord knows you've saved my life more times than I can count, but Matt is good for me. Your views on our start and on him as a person won't change that.“

Frank scoffed, rolling his eyes to the popcorn ceiling. You grit your teeth. “Alright, if you want to be pissed, that's your prerogative. I'm sorry you didn't find out about us directly from me, but I refuse to accept full responsibility for that because you haven't responded to me for months. You don't get to just pop back into my life when it's most convenient for you.”

The towering man didn’t respond. Fine. If he wasn't in a headspace to hear what you had to say, then you were done talking. Stretching over to a nearby cabinet you pulled out a tupperware and tossed it to him. He caught it without glancing up.

“Have a good night, Frank. Text me if you ever decide you want to listen. And take that food home with you or I will be obligated to hunt you down.”

Using the seat of your chair to leverage your weight, you stood up and paced away from Frank, crossing your fingers that Matt was still in the bedroom when you reached it.

Matt’s hearing was powerful enough to register conversations a block away, let alone one room over, so ignoring the voices beyond your bedroom walls should’ve been difficult. However, Frank’s implications had worn him down, rehashing a mess of anxiety and spurning his feelings of unworthiness. If you hadn’t asked him to stay, he would’ve gone back out to find a distraction lurking in the city streets before passing out on any surface in his apartment. Instead, he lay in your bed, coiled in a ball beneath the sheets, drained of energy–feeling small and useless.

Frank apparently didn’t have much more to say because it was only minutes before he heard you approaching the closed door obscuring him. Your footfalls were light, as always. You did whatever you could to make his existence easier. It was one of the many reasons he loved you. 

Your heartbeat grew stronger as you entered, leaving the door open only briefly in an effort to preserve the hideout Matt had taken shelter in. Gently crouching until you were seated on the mattress, you curled your body around Matt’s–shielding him from the abundance of sensory input and surrounding him with the subtle scent of your body wash. It was warm and sweet, comforting like the brief whiff of sugar you smell when walking past a bakery. A stark contrast to the harsh remnants of gunpowder and leather drifting in from Frank’s now abandoned seat. 

“How much of that did you hear?” You asked, tracing over his prickly cheek with a finger. 

“Bits and pieces.” Matt exhaled roughly. “Did you want me not to listen?”

“Sweetheart, I would never ask that of you. That’s not really something you can control when we’re twenty feet away.” Turning his head into your touch, Matt placed a gentle kiss on the pad of your finger. You took a moment to study him, heart clenching at the weary expression on his face. His posture was tight, you could tell he was holding back. “C’mere, lovely.” 

At your prompting, Matt’s blank face twitched, his sorrow peeking through as he shifted on the mattress.

“I’m sorry I let him in.” You murmured, threading your fingers into Matt’s hair as he wriggled until his face was squished into your stomach. “I should’ve forced him to calm down, or take it out on me. It wasn’t fair to subject you to that.” 

“I’m a big boy. I can handle it.” Matt chuckled breathily, the sound coming out choked with emotion. 

“I know, handsome. But that doesn’t mean you deserve to be screamed at over a misunderstanding.” Sliding down until Matt was resting against your chest, you tucked his head under your chin, wrapping him in an embrace. He hummed against you, not trusting himself to speak on the matter.

“Matty, you do know that what he said was complete and utter horseshit, right?” Your blunt question made him snort, the noise muffled against your collarbone. “No, I’m serious. He was mad that we caught him off guard, so he said that crap to get under your skin. Classic Frank tactic. He did the same shit when we were kids.”

“Did he really?” Came Matt's amused question.

“Oh yah. He’s damn good at it too. The day I knocked him off the Dig Dug leaderboard at our local arcade, he told me I was adopted. My parents were FURIOUS to hear he’d let that cat out of the bag.” You laughed, your nose crinkling as you pictured Frank hanging his head on your family’s tattered leather couch as he got chewed out by your dad.

Matt made a mournful noise, pressing impossibly closer. Rubbing his shoulders with a flat hand, you kissed his crown. “But, the next week, he took me back to the arcade so I could show him how I did it. And when the dude running the candy counter made a sexist comment about how I shouldn’t even be there, Frank forced him to apologize.” 

“What’d he do? Shoot him?” Matt asked dryly. 

“Just a stern talking to. With his fists.” You joked, pinching Matt’s waist. His lips tickled your skin as he smiled. 

“Moral of the story is: Frank speaks without thinking sometimes, just like the rest of us. And he tends to be protective of the people he cares about, myself included.” Sliding your hand beneath Matt’s shirt, you cradled his waist tenderly, drawing delicate patterns with your thumb. “You have that in common.” 

“A talent for lashing out?” Matt quipped. 

Ignoring his attempt to deflect, you continued. “You want to protect me.”

“Apparently, I’m not as good at it as I thought.” Matt remarked icily. 

“Yes. You are.” You poked him, tone stern. “You protect me and the rest of Hell’s Kitchen every day, regardless of what Frank thinks. You are an amazing man and a wonderful partner, and I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything, love.” 

“I love you.” Matt whispered reverently, feeling his insecurities beginning to subside. You always had that effect on him. Your melodic voice and persistently kind nature acting as a life preserver when his own mind seemed determined to drown him. 

“And I love you, Matty. All of you. Always.” Cupping his chin with one hand, you drew him towards your face, pecking his lips lightly. “Why don’t I help you change out of your suit so we can shower? If I’m tired, I know you’ve gotta be wiped out.”

Smirking, Matt cocked his head at you—his confidence finally reappearing after the disaster of a night you’d had. “Are you trying to get me naked, sweetheart?”

“Desperately.” You muttered, trailing a finger over the waistband of his pants. “I have not seen nearly enough of you today.”

“It must be so difficult for you,” He lamented, flopping flat on the mattress with a sigh. “Not seeing your partner.”

Snorting out a laugh, you shoved his chest playfully. “Both of us know that is not what I meant.”

He chuckled, fingers of his left hand loosening the knot of rope around his other wrist.

“Let me,” You suggested, cradling Matt’s dominant hand with both of your own, rotating it and unwinding the cord with a gentle tug. As the dirt and blood stained material fell from Matt's arm, it revealed a crisscross pattern of reddened indents in his skin—angry from being bound by the woven line for so long. Tutting in sympathy, you bent forward, kissing the marks gently before releasing your hold.

Without speaking, you tangled your fingers around his other arm, inching one finger beneath the rope, repeating the motions until he was free of them. Trailing another line of kisses down his arm towards his palm, you smiled triumphantly.

With two fingers, you pried the hem of his shirt away from his sweaty abdomen. ”May I?”

Matt nodded, a lopsided smile hanging on his lips as he arched his back off the mattress to allow you to remove his top. Rolling the fabric up and over his head, you dragged your nails up his spine, grinning at the soft whine you got in response.

“Feel good, Matty?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the sound dissipated into a moan when you licked a stripe over his pulse point.

“How about I mark you up this time, hm? Take care of you first for once?”

Matt rumbled beneath your lips with a small moan, his head falling back as he arched off the mattress. 

Giggling, you dragged your teeth over the pulsing vein in his neck, provoking a soft mewl in the back of Matt’s throat. “C’mon, sweet boy. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Leaping from the bed, Matt flew after you, snatching you by the waist and locking your lips together as you clumsily stumbled toward the bathroom. 

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @abucketofweird @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou

[apocalypse-shuffle]

PETER HALE | “CREEPER WOLF” (teen wolf)

────────────────────

────────────────────

“A Different Breed” (Peter Hale x Fem!Reader)

| With Lydia (& Allison) unwilling to help, and Peter unwilling to let himself be pushed around and fucked over by children, Peter finds other means to unlocking the secrets trapped in his late sister’s claws.

| SFW, canon divergence, manipulative!peter (what’s new though really?), reader is of African and Irish descent -banshee!reader

| 1k+ words

“Y/n L/n.”

Instinctually your brows furrow at the sound of your name even as you’re still looking at the ledgers on the library table.

“Yes?” You turn towards the person, a man. Trying not to seem rude you do him the favor of not looking at him as if he’s crazy for coming up to you with your full government name in his mouth. “If you’re looking for Ms. Fields she’s in the computer lab.”

He shakes his head. Something about the way he’s looking at you makes you stay stiff as you try to place if you’ve seen him before while leaning back on the table.

“Oh no,” he smiles in a way that’s probably supposed to be pleasant, “I’ve found exactly who I was looking for.”

Mhm. Part of your soul starts to ring out with danger bells but you don’t let him see that.

Planting your hands behind you on the desk you lean back some, inclining your head softly to the side, “What were you looking for me for?”

“Help.”

You nod slowly, dark fingers tapping against the edge of the table. This man doesn’t exactly give off the vibe of someone who needs (or trusts) help from anybody, but part of your job was literally helping people so you couldn’t call bullshit just yet.

You make sure to keep your expression open.

“Cool. What can I help you with, Mr… ?”

At your light promoting it’s like a flip switches and he suddenly remembers he has to seem far less suspicious than he’s otherwise been coming off.

His face loses its tension and in response you relax the tiniest bit as well.

“Hale,” he easily answers the inquiry.

The name pings at something familiar in your head. Hale…Hale? Ah!

“As in Talia Hale?”

The man’s eyebrows go up and a cool smile takes over his face.

“Yeah actually. I’m surprised you’re old enough to remember.”

You give him a tight lipped smile. He definitely isn’t looking to make a light library request if he’s a werewolf whose purposely sought you out.

“I’m in my 20’s actually. I went to school with Derek.”

He hums, a sound that might actually be signifying a genuine moment of interest.

“You know what? I thought your name sounded familiar.” He points to you, a roguish smile stretches across sharp features. “You were the basketball team’s manager, weren’t you?”

You snort despite yourself.

Out of all the reasons he could have remembered you by - the most likely of which being that you were one of the scant few black student body that went to BHS - that it was for basketball was a pleasant enough surprise.

“Yeah, I was, actually - and since you’re not Derek I’m gonna guess you’re his uncle.”

“Yes well,” he makes a low sound and meets your eyes, “I am his uncle. Peter.” He holds out his hand.

You only have a second to eye it in contemplation before it becomes socially unacceptable, but he’s got a really intense stare and you’re already nervous about this whole thing, so you end up biting the bullet before you can really think your decision through.

Hastily, you accept his outstretched hand to shake and immediately he uses the connection to pull himself closer. It forces you to knock your head back a bit to keep looking him in the face, your own face heating up.

Peter chuckles. It’s smooth and feels just a little patronizing and makes your eyebrow raise.

Those alarm bells from earlier start kicking up a fuss, whirring through your bloodstream like a tsunami. You keep a tightly controlled lid on it, but just barely.

Even as a beta Peter Hale was dangerous.

“You gonna stare at me with those pretty eyes all day, or you gonna tell me what you need?”

The corner of his eyes crinkle and his smile widens. His hand is still inhumanly warm against yours.

“Don’t knock yourself short, your eyes are pretty too.” He blinks down at you, eyes twinkling for a brief moment. “Like cognac diamonds.”

You bite the inside of your lip as Peter leans in even more, planting one of his hands next to yours on the table. Your breath speeds up as your bodies graze one another.

Casual as anything Peter leans down till your heads are level so he can whisper.

“Let’s cut the pretense, shall we, I know what you are.” Instantly you tense up again, eyes widening. Now his presence so close to you feels burning hot; nearly suffocating. Your palm is getting sweaty and your fingers are starting to creek at his tightening hold.

You swallow thickly, licking your lips. His breath puffs warmth onto the shell of your ear causing goosebumps to sprout along your brown skin.

“I'm going to need to use those abilities of yours.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You bite your lip harder after the poorly hidden shakiness in your voice meets your ears. The man - the wolf looming over you chuffs, voice going back to normal.

“Come on, Sweetheart. We both know that’s not true.” He straightens up then, his now free hand coming to press into his chest. “Let’s make this easier. I’m Peter Hale, big bad werewolf; and you’re Y/n L/n, prettiest banshee in Beacon Hills.”

“There’s other banshees in this town.”

He nods.

“Oh I know, but I’m not much into children and she wouldn’t be my type anyway. Now, you’re going to help me because teenage girls are brats.”

Your jaw works as you stare up at him. There’s not much you could even do in this situation other than go along or get your throat ripped out. You’d overheard some…things about Peter from your father the night he was admitted into the hospital that you’d rather not get a personal example of. Pack left hand, ruthless, it was good he wasn’t able to cause any more trouble.

“Fine,” you force out.

Eyes dropping, you glare daggers into the floor as he chuckles.

“Good choice.” He starts dragging you off towards one of the back rooms, “Now how advanced in your birthright are you? And who activated you?”

Your jaw clenches but you make yourself answer anyway.

“Since I graduated high school,” you glare at his back, “and not a who, a what.”

“Ah,” Peter nods and gestures for you to unlock the door. “The nemeton?”

Snatching your key ring from your pocket you shove the correct one into the hole and the second the key’s pulled back he’s knocking it open and shoving you in before him.

You stumble but quickly spin back around to keep your eyes on the werewolf.

“Yes,” you snap, “the nemeton was left defenseless and was just reacting to the only supernatural beings left, dormant or not.”

Peter locks and then leans against the door.

“Me and you,” he says, crossing his arms.

You hum an affirmative and go about shoving your rumpled clothes back into place.

“You’re a fucking asshole.”

“Noted.”

He has the audacity to throw you yet another one of those roguish smiles before those angelite eyes flash a supernatural electric blue.

That thing deep within you that turns your eyes white and forces a wail from your throat when death’s near rumbles inside your chest in response. You glare at Peter, shoving it down.

“Just tell me what you want.”

He claps before pulling a brown ornate jar out from behind his back.

“I want you to tell me what memory is trapped in these,” he scowls, “the full memory.”

“No shit,” you grunt.

When you reach for the jar he puts it more out of reach and inclines his head to give you a reproachful look though. You roll your eyes, the one time a man shows some interest in you and it’s this guy.

“I get it. The full memory or you’ll rip my throat out with your teeth or whatever.”

He scoffs but hands you the jar. You start to untwist it.

“The whole throat teeth thing is much more my nephew's style. No, I like to use my claws. There’s zero need for blood in my mouth when it’s sticking to my clothes.”

You grimace. Damn v-neck wearing bastard. No stable person talked like that, he was crazy, and you say as much out loud.

“So you're crazy?”

He laughs, sounding a little startled, and you dump the five werewolf claws into your palm. Ooookay.

“I’ve got to say, I like you way more than the other banshee I know.”

You grunt.

“Martin’s daughter, right?”

“Just the one,” he drawls.

You nod vaguely while inspecting the claws, turning them over with the fingers of your free hand. They’ve got a distinct hum of magic around them still, a particular frequency.

“These are Talia’s,” you state.

“Oh you are on a roll today, Sweetheart,” his eyes run over your body appreciatively before jumping back to your face. His smirk only widens at the unimpressed look you’re giving him, “now just tell me what she took from me.”

You give him one last pinched look before closing your eyes and clamping your fist around the sharp points. You exhale and focus on the frequency.

Alphas. Head of their packs. Crimson eyes. Leaders. Wolves. Chosen protector of Beacon Hills, burned alive on its lands after years of successfully protecting it and the people within it.

Your eyes snap open. They’re white. White like snow or powdered sugar. Like your mother’s favorite blanket on the back of the couch or like the steam from the pot when you whip up some soup when you’re missing your grandma like hell. White like the froth from crashing waves, like the blur between the mother, the spirit, and the crone when they flash before mortals eyes. White like the void between life and death.

The blank image before you, as you see with different eyes, flashes into one of a black haired woman. Talia Hale. She’s standing beside a chair, a chair Peter’s sitting in. Another flash and a screaming woman is there, talking about a baby and Peter and how it’s taking her power goddamnit!

You gasp, eyes blinking back to the present and keel forward, dropping the claws to the floor in the process. You barely make out the tiny clinks of them hitting the vinyl, hands resting on bent knees as harsh breaths rush from your chest.

Peter’s suddenly there, the claws are no longer on the ground and the jar’s nowhere to be seen. He grabs your forearms and then hefts you upright, shaking you.

“What? What was it? What’d you see?”

You groan and try to shake him off but he doesn’t budge. His grip only gets tighter.

“Fuck you,” you gasp. “You’ve got a kid - a Coyote wer - somewhere here in Beacon.”

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I’ll catch any typos later.

In retrospect it really is wild how little black people were in Teen Wolf. Like, off the top of my head there was only four, I think.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it! this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

[letsseewherethisis-going]

I Got You - Cillian Murphy

Summary: a short Cillian Murphy x fem!reader one shot. Y/N has been having trouble sleeping and Cillian has been getting worried for his girlfriend. Just a soft, cozy, loving kind of vibe. Might be too niche, but oh well... Feedback is appreciated! Enjoy

You finally walked out of the bathroom next to your bedroom and made your way to your bed. Cillian had been reading in bed for a while while you were showering and doing your skincare routine. It had become a habit for the two of you, because even though you kind of introduced him to skincare, his routine was way shorter than yours. Wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt, you joined your boyfriend in bed. His eyes were focused on a new book that he had started reading a couple days prior, his head resting on his pillow. The only light in the room was coming from the lamp on his bedside table, which made his bare torso and his face visible through a warm, golden light

“Hello, you,” you kissed his chest as your right hand sneaked under the comforter to rest on Cillian’s tummy. Your legs intertwined with his and his free right arm welcomed you against his body. Cillian always slept naked, which you loved because a) it made sexy time even easier and b) you loved that he felt so comfortable around you. Your relationship was a very trusting, loving one. Having Cillian in your life made you more grounded, and he seemed to feel the same way about you. You were both focused on each other as well as your own careers. You were both supportive of each other and had faith in each other as well. Cillian wasn’t the type to make any waves or add drama into one’s life, which made everything easier in addition. It’s safe to say that your relationship with Cillian had become your safe space

“Hi, darling,” he said with an obvious Irish accent, which you couldn’t get enough of, even after having dating him for a few months at that point. His eyes finally met yours and you pecked his lips quickly, and you rested your head on his chest. “Can I cuddle with you while you read?” you pouted and kissed his chest again, absentmindedly. You had been having a lot of nightmares lately and it was ruining your nights as well as the quality of your sleep. You would wake up at least once during the night, panicked about the nightmare you just had. You didn’t want to make a big deal about it, but Cillian had been asking you some questions and gave you some advice about setting up a sleep routine so that your nights might be more peaceful. You thought the idea of a sleep routine was kind of silly at first, but you quickly realized that he was making a valid point, so that night was the first time you tried it. The plan was no TV after 9pm, a chamomile tea around that same time and a warm shower before bed. Simple, but promising. That being said, during the evening, just the thought of going to bed made you a bit tense and apprehensive.

“Of course you can, baby. I’m going to read for about an hour, I think,” his deep voice relaxed you, as well as the feeling that skin-to-skin with him gave you. You could smell a mix of his natural scent and the smell of his shampoo. His skin so soft against yours; his warm, strong body next to yours made you feel so safe and at peace. “An hour?! Aren’t you tired?” your hand went up to Cillian’s chest, caressing his chest hair for a moment, while your eyes ended up focusing on his book. “I’m okay. I want you to get some sleep, baby,” he started stroking your hair softly, “I’m right here, my darling. I got you, you can fall asleep,” he continued. You couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach - oh, how you loved that man. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relax a little more. “Thank you for doing all this for me. It’s so silly I know-“ he didn’t let you finish your sentence “it’s not silly at all, I think it’s pretty serious. I see you getting more tired every day, plus I hate seeing you scared and anxious” his fingers kept stroking your hair so softly, you felt like you were melting in his arms. “I’ll be fine, I don’t want you to worry about me,” your hand moved down to Cillian’s lower tummy, where your fingers continued caressing his skin. You heard him clear his throat and felt his hand in your hair stopping, but he stayed silent. His hand ended up stroking your arm softly, and you stayed focused on Cillian’s breathing as well as the rhythm of his heartbeat, which you could hear very clearly. As you were falling asleep, you felt him drag your hand up to his chest again. Opening your eyes, you looked up at him “was I bothering you, Mr Murphy?” A smile grew on his face and he said in a cheeky tone “you were turning me on, you insatiable little thing,” you rested your head on his chest again and put your hand back where it was, but Cillian stopped you quickly “Y/N, I’m serious about this, you need a good night’s sleep. Be good, now,” you sighed and closed your eyes again, your hand going back to playing with his chest hair. “Good girl. I love you. Goodnight my love, I’ll be here if you need anything,” he kissed the top of your head and you felt sleepy again. His protective arms around you, his smell, his voice… everything made you feel safe