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#I smiled through his whole bit and it brightens up my days
haikyu-mp4 · 3 days
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Knight in a borrowed suit
word count; 1215 – f!reader wearing a dress, inspired by New Girl
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He stood you up. After taking up a table for over an hour, sitting in the middle of the restaurant and on show for everyone to watch as you tried your best to stop the tears from escaping, you’re sure that he stood you up. With an elegant dress, hair dolled up and impeccable makeup compared to what you usually did, you had been so excited for this date with a man you truly thought was interested. The two of you had gone out once or twice before and you were hoping it could grow into something, make you forget about that one unattainable volleyball player your heart beat a bit louder for. But it seemed not even people without status were interested for long. Maybe you came on too strong? Did you laugh too loud? Whatever it was, you weren’t sure you deserved this humiliation.
The waiter came over again with the same pitiful smile, and you knew she would politely ask you to leave. With a straightened back and tears at bay, you pursed your lips so she wouldn’t feel too bad about it.
“I’m so sorry ma’am, but unless you want to order, we have to give up your table,” she said, trying to speak as low as possible so all the people eyeing you wouldn’t be too entertained.
“That’s okay, I appreciate your patience,” you said, putting your purse on the table so you could pay for the wine glass you had when a voice rang out through the restaurant.
“Wait! I’m so sorry I’m late.” Oh, you knew that voice very well. Your head snapped in his direction, a small tear finally escaping the brim of your eye to trickle down and caress your smile. A very thankful smile.
It wasn’t your original date, it was Miya Atsumu.
He smoothed his hands over his suit, trying to catch his breath as he came over to your side, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple before moving to the other side and gesturing to the waiter. His hair was a bit messy, and his tie wasn’t very well tied, but he was handsome nonetheless. It was also Osamu’s suit, so it didn’t fit him like a glove. “Please excuse me and leave the menus. I’ll make sure to tip well for the wait,” he said, more professionally before finally sitting down. Your eyes had followed him the whole way, wide with wonder that he came to save you. It felt like you were in some romantic comedy.
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About 1 hour earlier
Atsumu was never happy about that new manager asking you out, and much less about you agreeing to it. Could you not see he was going through a perfectly planned 14-step process of asking you out? You had known each other since the day he started playing for the Black Jackals and he felt like there was a spark between you. He found you beautiful even when you weren’t dressed up for anything special, and you always had a great sense of humour. Nothing could brighten his day quite like making you laugh, a feeling he would even compare to a perfect service ace.
So when he saw that slimy manager in the gym, laughing with his friend after seemingly picking something up when he was supposed to be with you, he had to stop himself from getting violent. “No way man, she was way too much. I swear I’ll hear her laugh ringing in my ears for weeks, and that ain’t a good thing.” your original date said to the other guy, and Atsumu took in a few deep breaths to calm down before running to the locker room. He hit speed dial and held the phone to his ear, happy Osamu picked up quickly.
“What?” he snapped.
“There’s no time to explain, I need you to get me a suit.”
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Now here he was, sitting across from you with red ears and a slightly nervous smile. He had finally caught his breath when he looked at you properly, taking in every blink of your eyelashes and how your shoulders looked so kissable under the dress straps. “Wow,” he breathed out, feeling more breathless than he did after running all the way to the restaurant. “You look breathtaking.”
“Thank you, Atsumu,” you said affectionately, leaning your arms on the table in a desperate attempt to get just a little closer to him. You looked happy, he thought, but it was painted with uncertainty. “But… why are you here?”
Atsumu took a moment to answer, thinking back to what he heard before and trying not to let the angry emotions ruin this moment. “I’m taking a beautiful woman on the date she deserves,” he answered.
You didn’t need to know how he knew you were stood up, because now all you could think of was how real it felt. The universe granted you a chance to pretend Atsumu was there for you and not just because he’s a good guy.
It genuinely felt like that as you talked the night away, sharing food and ordering whatever wine they recommended as you talked about the things you never had time for at work. Your laugh was melodic to him, it’s what he imagined he would hear if he ever got into heaven. Unfortunately, you weren’t quite sold on him being there out of his own interest. So as you two stepped out of the restaurant at the end of the night, you said “Thank you for saving my date, Tsumu. You didn’t have to but I had a great time.”
Atsumu grinned, so hopelessly enchanted with your smile. “It was my pleasure, honestly,” he said, and it felt a bit too polite to you.
“If you want, I won’t tell anyone. You were probably just being nice,” you said with a forced chuckle, revealing more of your emotions than you planned.
“What?” he asked, grin diminishing as he tried to understand.
“You’re a good friend, I don’t want to assume there is anything more.”
“No!” It was now or never. He looked at you like you were the sun and he was the moon, desperately trying to reach for you and never quite making it; frustratedly. It left you speechless, staring at him with parted lips and trying to take in enough air to support your rising heartbeat. “I want to take you on more dates. I want to spend most of my time with you, actually. And I want to kiss you, fuck I want to kiss you so bad.” his eyes went to your lips and back up, and your pulse quickened even more, frozen like a deer in headlights from the sudden confession. Atsumu stepped closer, hands hovering over your hips like he wasn’t sure he could touch you. “I really really like you.”
“Tsumu,” you breathed out, a wide smile blinding him to the level that his eyes started watering from its light. “I like you too, I always have.”
Safe to say that the manager who stood you up would lose his job by next week, but you wouldn’t even look in his direction when you had Atsumu’s constant affection. Sometimes, the universe has a plan, and luckily, Atsumu’s 14-step plan was cut down to 3.
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illusioninfnty · 7 months
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day 6 ; dry humping
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↠ monkey d. luffy x reader
fandom: one piece word count: 1.1k warnings: nsfw 18+, dual virgins, luffy and reader are inexperienced, jealous!luffy if you squint, takes place a bit after opla season 1 so luffy is aged up
kinktober m.list || read on ao3
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“Luffy?” You call for your captain, peeking your head into his quarters. “Is everything okay?”
You noticed that your cheery and optimistic captain had been unusually quiet the past few hours. He never had gone that long without some sort of exclamation or crazy action, and his odd behavior was worrying to you. So when he finally retreated to his room, you decided to follow to see what was up.
“Oh!” Luffy’s eyes widen, as he says your name, clearly surprised to see you. He sends you a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?” You shrug, going inside and closing the door behind you. You take a seat next to him on his bed. “I don’t know,” you start. “You just seem…distant. You can tell me what's bothering you.”
Luffy sighs, taking off his hat to run a hand through his curls. “I don’t know how to describe it. I feel just so frustrated. But no matter what I do, I can’t get rid of it!”
You were confused too, unsure why Luffy wasn’t able to brush this off like he always did. Until a lightbulb went off. You remember Sanji mentioning urges that men get sometimes, and how they need a woman to fix it.
“It sounds like you might have some tension, you know, down…there.”
Luffy pauses, taking in what you said, before his eyes brighten. “I think you’re right!” he exclaims. “Oh wow, that makes a lot of sense now.” He goes quiet again, a sheepish look spreading across his face. “I don’t know how to get rid of it, though.”
You bite your lip, heat rising to your cheeks. “I think I’m able to help you with it.”
Luffy jumps up and grasps your shoulders. “Alright!” he cheers. He sits back down next to you and looks up at the ceiling, seemingly in thought. “That actually makes a lot of sense. The feeling always gets worse whenever I’m around you. I guess you have to be the one to fix it then, huh?”
“O-oh.” You stutter. Not only did you just discover that your captain (who you may have had a tiny bit of a crush on) was sexually frustrated, but he was like that because of you. A wave of heat rushed down your body.
“Yeah.” You confirm to Luffy, hoping to not seem too excited about this whole situation. “I just have to get on top of you.”
Luffy nods, spreading his legs and leaning back on his forearms, inviting you in. You immediately notice the boner he’s sporting, which makes you heat up even more. You seat yourself right on top of it, causing the two of you to moan harmoniously.
You start to move yourself on top of Luffy, his clothed cock hitting your pussy in the perfect spot. The fabric of your underwear rubs against your clit, causing your wetness to begin to stain it.
You reach your hand down to palm him through his shorts, hoping that you're bringing him pleasure from at least one of two ways. Luffy looks up at you with curious eyes.
“How’d you know to do this?” he asks you.
“I heard Sanji talking about it. He says guys feel like that a lot. Pent up, ‘s what he called it.” He goes quiet for a moment. “Have you done this with him?”
“W-what? No!” Your hands scrunch up in his vest and you swallow hard. “This is actually my first time doing anything like this,” you admit sheepishly, eyes downcast.
Luffy grins. “Yeah, me too!” he says brazenly. “Guess we’ll figure out how to do this together!” He laughs. 
You send a matching grin back as you continue to grind on top of him. You’re practically sopping now, an audible sound happening when you rock back and forth on Luffy. His cock throbs furiously, and you gasp when he grabs your hips.
He starts to rock back onto you, pumping his hips upwards into you. You lean forward as the sensation weakens you, and Luffy buries his face into your neck.
“Feels good…” he mumbles into you. You hum in agreement as you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure.
You increase your pace, wrapping your arms around Luffy as you both press close against the other, grinding each other uncontrollably. 
Luffy suddenly stills your hips and moves you onto the bed, face down and ass hanging off the edge. You gasp in surprise.
“Want to try this,” he breathes out as he hovers over you. You’re met with him thrusting against you from behind, hips moving wildly as he lets out low groans behind you. Luffy wraps his arms around your midsection, holding you in place.
You’re strung out and helpless as Luffy humps into you, his pulsing cock hitting against your clit. Your wetness has fully soaked your bottoms, and Luffy is able to thrust his cock between your clothed lips with ease.
Your captain moves with reckless abandon, hips jutting against your own. Neither of you can talk past groans and whines. This act feels primal, both of you desperately chasing your release.
His hands on your waist tightens as he humps into you and his groans are loud in your ear. You arch yourself into him, attempting your best to rub yourself against his cock.
He moans out your name into the crook of your neck as his body covers your own. “You feel really great,” he continues, his voice cracking. He moves faster and faster against you, seeking his peak. 
Your hands fist the bedsheet as you bounce back and forth against his thrusts and grinds against your clothed pussy. “Luffy!” you cry out. You can feel his hips start to move out of rhythm and he lets out a final low moan before you feel the stickiness of his cum seep through his shorts and onto your own.
Both of you are panting furiously, tired from your romp. Luffy rolls off of you, collapsing next you on the bed. You turn yourself onto your back and lean towards him, basking in the pleasure you just received.
Luffy turns his head towards you. “I don’t want you to do that with anyone else on the crew.” He says, with more seriousness than you’ve heard from him all night.
“I wouldn’t think of it.” You hesitate to continue as you prepare for disappointment with your next statement. “But—if you want, we can do this again soon. If you’d like to.” You mentally hit yourself in the head for stumbling over your words so embarrassingly.
He sits up, seemingly recovered from his orgasm. “Are you kidding? You don’t even need to ask! ‘Course we are!”
You laugh, wrapping your arms around your captain and giggling into his chest.
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scribblesandsherlock · 6 months
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Once Upon a Time
Mike Schmidt x babysitter!f!reader
Word Count: 1864
Summary: Like all other imagines go, ever since Mike hired you as Abby’s babysitter, you’ve made their life so much more fun. Today’s fun? Playing fairy tales with Abby. Mike thinks it’s hilarious until he’s suddenly brought into production…
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• • •
There was a satisfying ‘click’ when Mike turned the key. With one little shove, the door was open and he could breathe again. Another rough shift at work, but he was so grateful to be home. Where he could relax and just unwind…
And then he heard giggling. And he had the sinking feeling this was not going to be an “unwind” kind of day. What kind of mischief was Abby getting into now? Although, he much preferred hearing her laughter over the silence he used to get. Ever since he hired that new babysitter, Abby’s brightened up a lot. So, despite the drowsy drooping over his shoulders, he smiled as he shut the door behind him.
“Hey, I’m home!” He called out.
“We’re in here!” Your voice replied, making his smile twitch just a bit wider without him meaning to. You were such a saint. After what happened with the last babysitter, he thought he wouldn’t find another half as good, but you surpassed any and all expectation. Once he got the ball rolling better with work, he’d pay you. Soon.
“What on earth…” Mike’s voice trailed off when he saw what was going on in Abby’s room.
Lights were strung about, a great big fort connected to the ceiling and strung down like a canopy. With the use of cardboard, paper, and markers, the fort was surrounded by fake towers and what he assumed was a moat. And under the strung-up blankets were two familiar faces with paper crowns.
“We’re playing fairy tales,” You quickly explained, feeling the urge to take off the crown. You hadn’t felt self-conscious when it was just you and Abby, but when a cute guy looks at you? That’s a whole different thing. The embarrassment only worsened when you saw him stifle a laugh. Crap, what could he be thinking right now?
If only you knew that he thought you both made the cutest sight he'd ever seen.
"If we're going to do Snow White, we need an apple." Abby turned to you, refusing to let Mike ruin your fun together. She was not done playing. In fact, seeing the two of you looking at each other gave her a little idea...
"I'll go get the apple." You stepped over the cardboard towers and paper moat to head to the kitchen, "I'll be in the kitchen."
"Right behind ya," Mike added as he shrugged off his jacket.
You quickly took the crown off and set it down before going to the counter. You rummaged through the bowl of fruit, going past bananas and pears to find what you wanted.
Mike pulled out a Gatorade from the fridge, "Heh, thanks again for this. You have no idea what a difference you've made to Abby."
"Oh it's nothing. She's a lot of fun." You reassured him.
"I promise I'll pay you as soon as my check comes in, this isn't going to be the usual. You know, if, uh, you still want to continue this. I get it if you don't. You're not obligated to keep coming..." He was rambling now. He hadn't gotten like this since high school. Sheesh, what was going on with him? He reached up and adjusted his shirt's collar. It was getting warm in here all of a sudden.
"Mike, stop. You're completely fine. I'm happy to be here. After all, what are neighbors for?"
He shrugged. He'd just gotten so used to you being here, so quick. You fit right in. Looking back on it, the house used to feel so empty. Abby used to go to her room and just draw by herself. Mike would go to bed early or watch a couple shows on TV. Now, there was so much light and laughter brought in. He barely recognized his life anymore. He really hoped this was a sign for better days.
"Ah! Here we are, a classic red apple. I better not keep the princess waiting." You teased and started heading back to Abby's room, with a little skip in your step. But to your surprise, upon entering in, you saw Abby wearing her darkest purple blanket over her head like a cloak.
"I don't remember Snow wearing anything that dark."
"I'm not going to be Snow, you are." Abby told you and hurried to take the apple from you, "I got to be the princess the last two times. It's your turn."
You hadn't realized you were taking turns but okay.
"Where is your crown?" Abby squinted at you and made a face, "Mikeee! (Y/n) needs her crownnn!"
"Where is it?" He hollered from the other room.
"I left it on the counter!" You rose your voice, trying not to laugh. What has your life become? You felt like a Mom or something. And hey, you kind of liked it. Even though this wasn't your blood family or anything, you'd gotten real close with Mike and Abby. You just felt so comfortable with them.
Mike came back and briefly held up the crown, "Alright, where's the princess?"
Your face reddened and you sheepishly held up your hand, "Here."
He nodded and strolled over, briefly standing on his tip-toes to set it dramatically over your head, earning giggles from his sister. But just before he went to leave, Abby grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
"Don't go yet, I want you to watch!"
"Watch?" You echoed and your heart dropped to your stomach. Yeah, you were doing this for the kid, but you felt so shy playing pretend in front of Mike.
"Oh, alright, I'd be happy to watch." To your horror, Mike plopped down into the chair by Abby's desk and folded his arms. A big smile on his face.
Your eye twitched at the cocky little gesture. Oh, he was loving this, wasn't he? You didn't know if that was better or worse. But you tried to put it out of your mind when Abby got into character. She came up in her makeshift cloak,
"The evil witch approaches and knocks on Snow White's door..." Abby narrated before knocking on one of the blankets, pretending there was a thudding sound.
You stepped inside the fort then immediately poked your head out, forcing your gaze on Abby instead of Mike's amused face in the corner, "Hello?"
"Hello, young lady..." Abby ironically croaked, despite being many years younger than you, "I am giving out free apples. Would you like one?"
You heard muffled laughter again. Well, you weren't going to let him get to you. If he was going to pay you someday, you were going to earn every penny. He wanted a performance? Alright, here we go.
"Oh, how lovely! Of course!" You reached for it and held it to your mouth before taking a big bite.
"Muahaha! My plan is all coming together!" Abby rubbed her hands together and burst into a fit of mischievous giggles—that sounded a little too convincing for half a second.
"Oh no! I feel strange!" You held a hand to your head then spun around before making a dramatic 'fall' back onto the floor, bending your knees at the right second so the impact wouldn't be so bad. Besides, there were so many scattered pillows around, it wasn't harsh at all.
"Oh, bravo! Great job." Mike chuckled and clapped before starting to get up from his seat.
"Hey! The story isn't over!" Abby pointed a finger at him, "This part is important! I need your help!"
"Wait, what?"
"Snow White needs a handsome prince to wake her up." Abby explained and took off the cloak. She reached to the side for the crown she had made for herself, and handed it to Mike, "Your turn."
You had been pretending to be asleep but now your eyes were wide open. You started to sit up, "Oh, Abby, that's not necessary--"
Ohh it suddenly wasn’t so funny anymore. Was it, Mike? “Yeah, I'm really not an actor. You guys have fun, I'll just prepare dinner..."
But Abby wasn’t having it. She pointed to you first, “No! You! Lay back down! And you! Prince!”
Mike blinked down at his sister, but…apparently he didn’t have the strength to turn her down. He sighed and put the crown on his head. You honestly couldn’t believe it.
You slowly lowered back to the ground and closed your eyes. Not like you weren’t kind of hoping for a kiss from Mike one of these days, but you couldn’t say this is the way you expected to have your first one.
It certainly wasn’t the way Mike planned it, either. He had expected he’d finally get up the courage to ask you on a date. After he’d gotten around to paying you and proved he was in a better situation. But as soon as Abby found out of his crush on you, she had to push this to go a little quicker. He just had to hope he didn’t die of embarrassment in the process.
Abby took off her cloak and let out a gasp, “Oh no! My friend, Snow White is hurt! Help! Help! Prince Charming, come help!”
Mike sighed and walked over, “What’s wrong?”
“The princess has been poisoned! She needs true love’s kiss to wake her up!” Abby held her hands together and looked up at him with expectation.
“Abby, you really don’t expect me to—“ But the look she gave him told him she was serious. Was this really happening? Why didn’t he have the courage to tell her no?
He got down on his knees and looked over your features. He couldn’t tell but you were just as panicked about this. Your heart was pounding like crazy. What was he going to do? Maybe he’d kiss your forehead or your cheek. Something light just to say he did it. But no. When Mike lowered himself near to you, you were surprised by the touch of his lips. The soft scratch of his stubble. His breath was warm on your skin and made your heart flutter. This wasn’t the way you both had planned it, but it was a beautiful first kiss together.
Of course you both didn’t go crazy, Abby was right there, but it was a lingering kiss. Soft and sweet. Mike was surprisingly gentle. But just before you both could get used to it…
“Yay! The princess is saved!” Abby threw up her hands and giggled.
You both broke apart and nervously chuckled at the same time. You decided to speak first before it got awkward.
“Thank you so much for saving me!”
“Of course.” Mike dutifully bowed his head like a prince would, briefly licking his lips.
“Now the prince carries Snow White off into happily ever after!” Abby beamed.
“Heh, alright. Right this way, princess.” Mike gently scooped you up into his arms and rose to his feet with no issue. Wow, he was strong…
“Off to happily ever after?” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Off to the spaghetti and meatballs I’m making for dinner.” He replied.
You held a hand to your chest and laughed heartily, “Oh, my hero!”
The end.
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sixosix · 7 months
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wc 900, guys i’m still a 4.0 lore player so forgive me if lyney’s getting ooc now 🙁 but anw ENJOY THIS MESS OF A GUY!! requested by anon
or, lyney can't stop staring at your lips
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Lyney is beginning to think he might be obsessed with you. Or that you’re bad for him.
He’s stumbling over his lines when he sees you in the audience, his fingers catch on each other when he catches you smiling knowingly, and he gets nervous—the most absurd tell. It’s unlike him to feel his heart pounding in his ears when he’s already started the show. None of this feels natural.
It gets to the point where Lynette has to drag him off after a scene, worry evident on her usually-passive features.  “What’s happening to you?”
“I think I might be going insane,” Lyney admits, running his hand across his face. “I can feel it, Lynette. I’ve gone mad.”
All because you kissed him and he damn near exploded on the spot.
It wasn’t a special kiss. There wasn’t even tongue involved. He didn’t even see it coming. Hell, it was half a second and only on the side of his lips. Can it even be counted as a kiss?
If kisses could drive Lyney to a point where he can’t stop thinking about your lips, it might.
Lyney makes a pitiful noise, like a wounded animal. Lynette sighs heavily, as in relief that it’s not anything serious. But it is something serious. How is he supposed to move on in his life when you’re the only thing running through his head?
“Lynette,” Lyney cries, “this isn’t normal. I’ve caught something. Check my temperature.”
“You’re lovesick,” she replies simply, batting the hand that’s trying to get her to place her palm on his forehead. “and you have a show to finish. Get it together, brother.”
Get it together. Yeah, he can do that—if the object of his desires isn’t seated in the front row. But for now, Lynette is glaring daggers, stern like a mother, and Lyney sucks it up and makes a point of avoiding your eyes later on.
Avoiding your eyes usually means staring at other parts of your face.
Lyney feels the last bit of his sanity chip away when you decided it would be a splendid idea to wear something glossy over your lips, as if he wasn’t already distracted enough as is. You have got to be doing this on purpose.
Your tongue swipes over your bottom lip. He feels lightheaded.
“You look desperate,” Lynette tells him, which is frankly enough to make him want the ground to swallow him whole.
This also gets to a point where Freminet pulls him aside and asks him if he’s feeling sick. He feels like it. Lovesick and desperate, as Lynette so elegantly put it.
How embarrassing. Is this what you’ve reduced him to? Freminet looked at him with all wide, worried eyes, and Lyney can’t outright say the reason for his predicament. He excuses that he feels tired, and he doesn’t mention that his lips are feeling incredibly lonely.
Freminet, precious and understanding and thankfully unaware, nods and says, “I hope you feel better soon.” Lyney finds that unlikely, but he thanks him anyway. “Oh, and you should look behind you.”
Lyney turns and finds you waving at him, gesturing for him.Your fingers curl and it almost looks like you’re calling for a pet. And Lyney, weak and obsessed Lyney, follows without a second thought. Try as he might, he can never stay too long away from you, because as much as you’re driving him crazy, seeing you, hearing you, is enough to brighten his entire day and momentarily forget you’re the reason why he almost messed up with his lines.
He stands before you with a bit of distance. You want him gone so you pull him by the collar until his head is dipped down.
“You look feverish,” you say. Feverish, desperate, the list could go on and on.
I feel like it, Lyney wants to say; instead, his words are caught on the tip of his tongue as your eyes trace over his entire face. He feels as if he’s laying himself bare for you, but he finds that he doesn’t mind it at all, not when he’s soaking up your attention like he doesn’t know how to do anything else.
“Hey,” you whisper, a testament to your proximity, a smirk on your face, “my eyes are up here, Lyney.”
Lyney frowns, feeling petulant now that he’s aware of your schemes. “I’m not being indecent; please don’t phrase it like that.” Or is it worse that he’s ogling your mouth?
You laugh brightly, and he melts just a little. “You’re too obvious, Lyney.” He loves it when you say his name. He’s addicted to how your mouth carves his name. A poke on his cheek startles him enough to look up to your eyes, shame crawling in his cheeks. “See? You’re doing it again.”
“I don’t know what you’re on about.”
“Lyney.” You have got to stop doing that. Then again, he’s starting to think you’re doing it on purpose seeing how it affects him terribly. “If you want something, take it. Don’t stand around and do nothing about it.”
Lyney’s breath hitches, his blush climbing higher from his neck to his entire face. “Don’t just say that.” He can’t handle your crooked grin. He pulls you to his chest and buries his face on your neck—if it’s to keep your face away or to hide his expression, no one would be able to tell. “You can’t just say that.”
“I know what I’m saying. Don’t take me for a fool.”
Your lips brush his. His mind blanks. You’re bad for him—you have to be, but everything that comes after feels natural, at least.
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mmelionsblog · 2 months
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best of wives and best of women \\ alastor //
A/N: reader is an owl in the after life !
your eyes slowly opened, the darkness of the hotel room met with you, with the hint of red shading into the shared bedroom of yours and alastor’s room from the bay window. you yawned, facing away from the window to be met with yet another empty space on another day. you frowned, your hand tracing from up the pillow and down onto the bed.
your ears perked up though, with the best hearing you could thank for, you knew where alastor was. your eyes twitched with annoyance, grumbling ‘of course, the man i marry is a workaholic’. you slipped on your red soft slippers, grabbing the matching robe alastor bought you a couple months back.
covering yourself, you opened your door and closed it quietly knowing your other friends were still dead asleep (no pun intended). you clicked on the golden button going up, what was so cool about it was that you and alastor were the only ones who can access this elevator only thanks to lucifer’s magical talents.
you yawned, looking up at the mirror glass ceiling. your hair was such a mess, but overall you were a whole mess. alastor’s seen you in worse, so you didn’t care whatsoever if he was in a mood or not. the doors opened, and you walked your way to your husband’s office room, on top the sign red ON AIR. you sighed, sitting on the made bench alastor put out for you.
it was 5:35 in the morning, as you sat. you cracked your neck as you waited patiently for your sweet dear husband to finish up. another thirty minutes went by, and this time you had a cup of coffee from the vending machine from across the hallway.
“dearie,” the brown door creaked open, and there stood your husband. your red eyes burned into his, “alastor. i ASKED you to stay in this morning, come on you can’t do that simple request for me?” you whined, placing your can down and walking towards him. he finally closed his office, locking it as he placed the key into his pocket. “i know, but i couldn’t sleep and so i just decided to plan out all of today’s radio’s top hit.”
you shook your head, “what time is it before the hotel all wakes up?” you asked him. “6:10 my dear, why are you asking?” you smiled up at him, “we’re going back to sleep.” you grabbed him by his hand, ran into the golden elevator and pressed your level where your room was.
“and where is this all coming from?” your husband’s voice echoed through your body as you leaned onto him. “i was moody this morning, didn’t see my lovely husband right next to me. you wouldn’t like that if i did it to you now, would you?” you looked up to meet his own red eyes.
alastor shook his head. “no dearie i wouldn’t,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. the elevator dinged, opening the doors. the two of you walked out only to see husker waiting at your door. alastor’s smile twitched, but remained calm and placed you behind him. “husk, to what do we owe you at such hour?” alastor asked.
husker bit his lip in fear, “charlie just wanted to tell you breakfast was ready, she wanted everyone to be up at this hour due to an activity she had in mind.” you whined loudly, slamming your head into your husband’s back. “tell charlie, my dear and i have plans today. if it is a so called emergency i’ll be there, but to leave us alone.”
your eyes brightened at the thought of having alastor all to yourself. you hadn’t been alone with him since the two of you walked in, in the day at least. “oh mon amour,” you tried to walk in front of him, but since husker was still there, alastor wasn’t going to let any other person other than yourself and family (if you ever to see them) see you in such a state. “i suggest you leave.” he growled out to husker, husker nodded and bid a fair well to you and your loving al.
giggling, you finally emerge into his eyesight. “my love, where you jealous just now?” your hands wrapped around his waist as you stood on your tippy toes, your face inches away from his. “i don’t know what you mean by that.” you giggled, as alastor opened the door to your shared room.
you hopped into your bed after hanging your robe and putting your slippers away, waiting patiently for your lover. he came in with the matching set he also got for himself. you gigged at the sight, the only women on earth and in hell that could see him in such a state. “i am the luckiest woman in hell,” you breathed out.
alastor climbed into the bed, his hand pressed up onto your cheek caressing it lightly. “best of wives and best of women,” he whispered, kissing you softly.
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strayteezsimp · 19 days
Text
A Dance with Fate
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Pairing: Yunho x afab!reader
Summary: You are a new soloist under KQ Entertainment and your debut is in less than a week so you turn to Yunho for some guidance. Little did you know about his feelings towards you.
content warning! IdolAU! Smut(MDNI 18+), some fluff, swearing, slight angst (self-deprecation), breast play, fingering, oral (receiving), edging, usage of sir, use of pet names (baby, pretty baby, sweetheart), piv, unprotected sex//creampie (don’t be silly wrap ya willy)
Word count: 2.3k
My first fic in a literal decade lol. A huge thank you to @optimisticbabypanda for helping me with editing it and making sure it looked good! Also thank you for taking time to help me! I appreciate you whole heartedly 💕
Hope yall enjoy 💕
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You exhaled in frustration while lying down on the practice room floor. “After 5 years of training, you’d think I’d be better at dancing by now.” You said out loud to yourself. Dance was always your struggle point as a trainee, and you were surprised when KQ said they were gonna debut you as a new soloist for them. You were hoping you would end up in a group so your dancing wouldn’t stand out as much, but here you were wallowing on the floor in self-pity. You’ve been debating whether or not you should ask someone for help; however, every time you think about it you feel this deep sense of embarrassment.
You felt like they’d make fun of you for needing help on something you should be relatively good at by now. Then you thought about Yunho. You’ve met him a few times and each time you talked to him- he seemed nice enough, “Maybe I could ask him. He seems like he'd be the least judgmental about it,” you thought to yourself, still lying on the floor with your debut song playing in the background on a loop. After some internal debate, you decide to swallow your pride and go ask Yunho.
As you're making your way down to Ateez’s practice room you feel a sense of dread. What if he laughs at you? What if he scolds you for not being able to dance to your own debut song? These thoughts have plagued your mind to the point you didn't even realize you had walked past their practice room. Internally smacking yourself in the face, you turn around and head back to the room. As you were about to knock on the door, it swung open with Yunho standing right there before you. You stood there gapping as anxiety started rushing through you.
He let out a little chuckle “Hey y/n! You're a long way from your practice room” he said with a smile on his face. You giggled nervously as you looked at your dance shoes. “Yeah, I actually had come here to talk to you about something.” You said, embarrassment laced in every word. He looked at you with a face mixed with curiosity, concern, and a hint of excitement. The moment he laid eyes on you his heart skipped a few beats- he knew he wanted to have you. You hesitated as you were trying to muster up the courage to ask.
“I really need your help with something but I’m a little embarrassed to ask in the middle of the hallway.” You said still looking at your shoes. He leaned over so he could look at your face and smiled. “Then where would you like to talk?” You giggled shyly as your cheeks turned a faint pink. You stepped back a little bit to see his face properly. “Preferably in my practice room, if you don’t mind.” Your mood lightening a little bit, you were always amazed at how much Yunho brightened up any room he was in, how just a smile from him could make your day better within seconds.
He stood up straight and started stroking his chin, it was obvious to you that he was messing around with a loud hum. “Sure I would love to help, lead the way y/n.” He said with a dramatic bow. You laughed as you lightly tapped his arm, “come on drama king.” As you two were making your way down to your practice room Yunho was internally trying to calm himself down. He was so excited to spend time with you and get to know you a little better. He was sure whatever it was you were worried about wasn't as bad as you were making it seem.
Your debut song was still playing as you entered the practice room. You walk over to your phone to start it over and pause it. “So what's the problem y/n? Are you worried about your song?” Yunho asked as he sat on the floor beside the speaker. “No, it's not the song I love my song. It's my dancing. I just can't get the choreography right.” You say as you rub your face in frustration. “Would you like to show me?” Yunho asked, standing from his spot on the floor. This was the part you were dreading. “He's gonna see me dance and laugh at me. What if he tells the rest of his group? And his members tell their friends? I'm going to be the laughingstock of the industry” you thought to yourself as you handed your phone to Yunho. You got in your spot and signaled Yunho you hit play.
He watched your every move as you did your choreo. Making mental notes of the moves you did and did not need work with. As you were dancing you felt his eyes on you the whole time. You were getting nervous because you couldn’t read his face, was he getting secondhand embarrassment? Was he trying not to laugh? Thoughts like these purged your mind as you finished your choreo. Yunho paused the music and sat your phone down. “I think I know what the problem is.” He said with a pause, making you even more uneasy. “You’re letting your anxiety get the best of you, and it’s making you stiff. Try and relax- you really did great.” He said looking you in the eyes. You felt his sincerity and it made you feel better. “Can you do it one more time for me? Have fun with it! I’ll dance with you if that would help?” He said beaming with excitement, looking more like a golden retriever than ever before.
He walked back to your phone as you readied yourself. You start your choreo again as Yunho quickly jumps beside you and dances with you. The choreo flowing like you were a natural. You were so dumbfounded by how fast he learned your choreo that you missed a step and rammed face first into Yunho’s chest, Yunho losing his footing in the process. You felt Yunho’s hands grip your waist as he quickly caught both of you from falling, both of you stared at each other in surprise as both of your faces turned red. He exhaled quickly as he stared into your eyes. The stare was intense, but in a loving way. You couldn’t bring yourself to look or pull away, it was like he had you in a trance.
He looked to your lips and then back at your eyes as if he were asking for permission starting to lean towards you. You closed your eyes and felt your lips touch as he kissed you. His lips were soft and gentle and he moved against your lips. As he started to pull away you wrapped your arms around his neck and went back in for another, not wanting this moment to end so soon. Your lips met again with much more intensity. His grip on your waist tightened as he licked your bottom lip, asking for entry.
His tongue dominated yours as you let out a light moan. You felt a light tug in your shirt as he pulled away from your heated kiss, resting his forehead on yours and looking into your eyes; you nodded and helped him lift off your shirt. He started kissing down your neck, to the tops of your lightly exposed breasts. You felt him move his arm up your back to remove your bra. Feeling his eyes on you started to make you feel self-conscious and before you could cover yourself he quickly cupped your breasts and started to kiss them. “Don’t cover them, you're so beautiful I want to cherish this moment.” You let out a moan as he licked your nipples. His hand toying with one as he sucked on the other.
You let out another moan as he slid his hand into the front of your sweatpants, rubbing your nub through your underwear. You felt your wetness on your underwear against your heat as he pulled his hand out. “I’m gonna go lock the door, have your clothes off, and have that pretty pussy ready for me okay?” Doing as he said you swiftly removed your pants and underwear and laid down on the floor. As he was making his way over to you he took off his shirt in one swift motion, he crawled to hover over you but first taking in the sight of your body. “I’ve been wanting to make you mine for so long.” He said as he stroked his fingers between your folds, earning a squirm and a moan from you. He stuck a digit into you, pumping at a slow pace. “Yunho please more” you whined, needing more.
Yunho smiled as he looked at you. “You’ll have to be patient for me baby. Can you do that?” You huffed in frustration then nodded. He stopped. “No, I need to hear you say it, sweetheart.” He peered into your eyes with a gleam of excitement and seriousness. “Yes.” You sighed out. “Yes, what?” He said, still staring at you. “Yes sir?” You said thinking that’s what he was wanting. He let out a little chuckle. He then added another digit and picked up his pace. His long slender fingers hitting you in the right spot, you let out a guttural moan as he was hitting your sweet spot. “Yunho. Please. Cum. I’m gonna cum. Please don't stop.” You said between moans. You felt the knot in your stomach tightening, and right as you were about to release he pulled his fingers out.
You groaned in frustration. “Fuck Yunho please.” He leaned to your ear and whispered “Not yet pretty baby. If you can't be patient I won't let you cum okay?” He pulled away from your ear and started gently kissing down your stomach, making his way to your soaked core, your legs spreading instinctively. Leaving love bites at the tops of your thighs, you felt your hips buck as he kissed closer to your heat. His tongue finally gives your sensitive bud relief as you let out a high-pitched moan. You throw your hand over your mouth to keep from being too loud. You writhe in pleasure as he laps up your folds like a starved man.
Your breaths become irregular as you feel yourself about to release.”Yuunhoo!” You draw out as he pulls away again. “You’re doing such a good job baby. I'm gonna make you feel so good.” He pulls back and removes his pants. His thick cock springs up and smacks against his abdomen. “Are you ready sweetheart?” He asks with a gentle tone. “Yes sir please, I need you in me, please.” You whimper out as you spread yourself open, wetness pooling from your core. He lines himself up to your hole and slowly pushes in, your breath hitches as you feel him enter. Your walls practically pulling him in. “Fuuuuuck” He growls as he bottoms out. “You feel so good baby, so wet for me.” You let out a moan as he starts thrusting into you at a steady pace.
Wrapping your arms around his neck you pull yourself to his lips, using them as a cushion to muffle your moans. He snakes his hand down to your clit and begins rubbing it in a circular motion as he slams into you. Suddenly, he flips you over so you're straddling him. “Ride me sweetheart.” After adjusting yourself to the new angle you begin you bounce on his cock. The sound of skin echoing through the practice would be loud enough for anyone walking by to hear. Yunho grips your waist and starts fucking up into you, eliciting a wail from you.
Gripping his shoulders you begin feeling that familiar knot in your stomach, your moans get louder “Yunho! Please! I'm close, fuck I'm close!” He lets out a deep groan, thrusting up into you at speed you didn't think was possible. “So good baby. Gonna cum. Gonna fill you up baby.” He looks up into your eyes as if he were pleading. “Cum with me baby. Cum” as if on command, you both release at the same time- filling you up with a mix of both yours and his cum, your hands clawing at the tops of his shoulders as you both came down from your highs. Exhausted, you collapse on top of Yunho, both laying there listening to sounds of your breathing, feeling both of your hearts racing.
As you were pushing yourself up you felt Yunho gently grab the back of your neck and softly kiss you. As he pulls away he looks at you with tenderness and concern. “Are you okay? I didn't go too rough did I?” You smile down at him and shake your head. “No Yuyu, you were perfect.” He reaches over and grabs one of the towels you brought for your face and holds it under you as you pull yourself off of him. You both clean up the best you can and get dressed. You both sit back down on the floor and he pulls you into him, your head resting on his bicep.“I know it's a little backward to ask now, but I do really like you. I have since I met you, and I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me sometime?” He laughed nervously, averting your gaze as shyness took over him. You smiled and turned his head back towards you. “I’d love that Yuyu.”
Lying his head on yours his face gleamed with excitement as he took your hand into his. Turning to look at you with the biggest smile on his face “We should go dancing!”
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theemporium · 6 months
Note
Can I request a 🧸 for Charlos and reader? Maybe both of them being obsessed with a newborn, but also taking care of the reader after birth, just being dads and boyfriends of the year?
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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“He is perfect,” Charles whispered in a hushed voice as his fingers lightly tracing over the soft features of his son’s face.
“You’re just saying that because Pascale said he looks a bit like you when you were born,” you countered, though there was a smile on your face as you watched the boy pace around the living room with the baby in his arms, the baby that was barely a month old.
“Then he will grow up to be handsome,” Charles said with a playful glint in his eyes, one that only brightened when you both heard the Spaniard in the kitchen let out a noise of disagreement. 
You snorted.
“Kidding, mon amour!” Charles called out, his cheeks flushed a soft pinkish colour as his attention was quickly shifted back to the huffing baby in his arms, almost like little Julian Leclerc-Sainz knew the focus wasn’t on him anymore. “And I’m just kidding too, my prince.”
“You’re hogging him,” Carlos commented as he walked back into the living room, a tray of food in hand as he headed straight towards the couch where you were sitting.
“He’s your son, not a football,” you murmured, rolling your eyes. However, it was short-lived when you saw the array of foods laid out on the tray—foods that you weren’t able to eat while you were pregnant but craved through the whole nine months. “Oh.”
“The least you deserve,” Carlos murmured as he placed a kiss to your hairline before his arm wound around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. “The least we can do after you gave us so much.”
“You know I’m still a mess,” you murmured as you sniffled, though it was a little late for the tears already welling up in your lash line. 
“It’s cute,” Carlos commented with a huffed laugh as you nuzzled your face further into his chest, most likely wiping your tears on his shirt but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“But not as cute as you,” Charles cooed softly, grinning down at the small baby in his arms. “No, you’re the absolute cutest.”
“Way to make a girl feel special,” you joked lightly as Charles’ eyes found yours, a grin spread across his face.
“You, cherie, are the most beautiful woman on the planet and nothing will change that,” Charles stated it so simply, like it was just a fact of the world: the sky was blue, grass was green and you were the most beautiful person to ever exist.
Your cheeks burned but you smiled, nonetheless. “Maybe not right this second,” you joked, teasing and light-hearted but it made both boys frown.
“You look more and more beautiful every day,” Carlos told you as his fingers gripped your chin, pulling your face up so you could look at him. “And I think motherhood has only made you more beautiful.”
“You brought in the most perfect creation into the world,” Charles continued as he walked over to the couch, settling into the spot next to you despite little Julian happily dozing off in his arms. “Only someone just as perfect could do so.”
You felt your eyes get wet again. “You two are really ganging up on me to make me cry today.”
“And we will be here to wipe the tears too,” Carlos murmured as his thumb swiped a few stray tears before he placed another lingering kiss to your forehead.
.
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blushweddinggowns · 1 year
Text
When Nancy’s mom pulled her aside one day to ask her a favor, she never thought that it would involve tutoring the Steve Harrington. The basketball starter that had nearly every girl in their high school wrapped around his finger. 
And sure, Mrs. Harrington was offering some really good pay, but that didn’t mean she wanted to do it. Because Steve was…a lot. He was cocky, he was weirdly aggressive when it came to his drug dealer best friend, and if his grades and lack of self-control were anything to go by, he was also dumb as hell. 
Just because he was the hottest guy in school didn’t mean she wanted anything to do with him. But her mom didn’t really give her a choice, not when she had been vying for Mrs. Harrington’s friendship for years.
And that’s how she found herself on the Harrington doorstep on a Sunday, dreading how tedious trying to make someone with no attention span learn was going to be. She rang the doorbell, impatient for the whole thing to just be done with already. 
She was surprised when it was Eddie Munson who answered the door, clad in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt that Nancy was pretty sure belonged to Steve, unless he had been a secret swimming champion in 1982. For a split second she thought she was at the wrong house, until she remembered that Eddie was supposed to be living in a trailer park. 
He ran a hand through his messy hair, not even the slightest bit embarrassed to be caught without pants on at someone else’s house, “Uh, can I help you?”
“I’m here for Steve? Um, I’m his tutor? Nancy Wheeler?” She wasn’t sure why she said her own name like it was a question, but the way Eddie was staring her down had her uncharastically nervous. 
But his eyes brightened at the word tutor. He stepped aside to let her in, “Oh yeah! He told me that was today, I guess we just lost track of time. Wait here. I’ll go get him. You want a muffin? I literally just made them, unless you're allergic to chocolate? But if you’re not they’re like, really good, my uncle’s recipe so you can trust it.”
He was talking a mile a minute as he led her into the house, happy in a way she never would have expected from him. In school he was so…defensive. Always willing to cut down anyone who made a comment about his weird sense of style. And there was also the little known fact that he sold freaking ketamine in the woods behind school with a small history of violence and theft. She kind of thought that the drug dealer whose wardrobe half consisted of skulls wouldn’t be the type of guy to bake muffins. 
But that didn’t mean she didn’t want one. 
“Um, sure?” She said, jumping a little when Eddie suddenly tossed one her way. 
Before she could even say thank you he was two-stepping his way up the stairs, whistling a tune that Nancy couldn’t help but smile at. If Eddie Munson could be so nice, then the odds of Steve turning out to not be a total dick were looking pretty good.
She could hear him slam a door open upstairs, voice loud and obnoxious, “Time to wake up sunshine! You got some learning to do!”
Nancy wandered over to the stairs as she ate, happily surprised at just how good it was. She couldn't hear much else, just a few groans and some shuffling, then something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle before the two of them made their way back downstairs. 
Steve was just as disheveled as Eddie was, hair a mess as he blearily blinked into the light, like it wasn’t already noon. He at least had the decency to put on pants though, something that Eddie had decided was superfluous. 
He waved at her as they came down, at least apologetic, “Hi, I’m Steve. Sorry about that. I was up late last night doing- I mean watching movies. Kind of let the day get away from me a little bit.”
He put out his hand for Nancy to shake and she couldn’t help but notice just how big they were. She took it, suddenly a little flustered as she spoke, “Nancy. And we’ve uh, actually met before. Believe it or not.”
Steve blinked at her, mind obviously racing to try and figure out when he’d seen her before, “Please don’t tell me we used to date.”
“No we didn’t but- wait. You don’t remember all the girls you’ve dated?” Nancy raised a brow at him, suddenly a lot less impressed. Just how big of a player was this guy?
But at least he had the good grace to look embarrassed, “I-well, it’s not like that. I-”
Eddie put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in the midst of his stuttering sentence, “Stevie, stop while you're ahead. Now go get some food so your brain can actually function.”
Surprisingly, Steve obeyed, just like that. He just nodded and puttered into the kitchen, leaving Eddie and Nancy to follow him. 
Eddie leaned over, stage-whispering in her ear, “He’s usually a lot more charming after he’s been conscious for more than 5 minutes. I swear.”
They rounded the corner, just in time to see Steve eat half a muffin in one bite. He moaned at the taste of it, and Nancy was suddenly blushing for the second time in one day. 
He smiled at Eddie, hearts in his eyes, “How are you so good at everything?”
Nancy was starting to understand why her mom always said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. If she didn’t know any better she’d say that Steve was seconds away from asking Eddie to ride into the sunset together. 
Eddie shrugged, even though his face was positively pleased. Steve finished the rest of it with a dreamy sigh, eyes still locked on Eddie.
“God, I love-” Steve coughed mid sentence, and for a second Nancy was sincerely worried that he had managed to choke on a piece of muffin. But the next moment he was fine, glancing over at her before straightening, “Uh, when my parents are gone. You can eat anything you want. Thanks for making them dude.”
Eddie snorted, barely managing to keep his laughter inside, “No problem, dude. But now that you're functioning I’ll let you guys get to it. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”
Nancy wasn’t sure just what they would need him for, but Steve nodded anyway. It was almost weird, just how comfortable Eddie was in his house. She had half expected him to leave after he dragged Steve downstairs, especially since it was a school night, but the way he sprawled himself out on the couch said otherwise. 
They set themselves up at the kitchen table, Nancy with their biology book in hand and Steve with a second muffin. She cracked her book open, internally preparing herself for an afternoon of frustration. So imagine her surprise when none came. 
Because Steve Harrington was nothing like she expected. He wasn’t some undiscovered genius or anything, but he was diligent. He didn’t try to make a move on her, which her friends had definitely warned her about when they first heard she was tutoring him. He never got mad when he didn’t understand something, or even impatient. If anything he was just apologetic, a constant barrage of I’m sorry coming out of his mouth whenever he got something wrong that she already explained.
It was endearing to say the least. He even offered to drive her home after. She hadn’t realized that the offer included Eddie poking at him from the back seat and complaining about the music the whole ride home, but still. It was a nice gesture. 
When her mom asked her how it went she didn’t even have to lie. It went great. Not even on the whole he wasn’t a dick side of things. He was making ground when it came to his schoolwork, he just needed a little bit of extra attention. 
She found herself laying in bed that night with a smile on her face, more than excited to see Steve again. Maybe they’d even manage to get a little alone time, just so she could get to know him a bit better.
For strictly tutoring reasons, of course. 
~
Part 1.5 Part 2 Part 3
From an unpublished chapter of this fic (But I'll probably add part two and the reveal here because it kind of works with tumblr formatting!)
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stevethehairington · 1 year
Text
There's a guy that frequents the same park that Steve takes his morning jogs through. He always sits at the same bench, with the same little journal in his lap, bent over it and scribbling furiously away at its pages. Sometimes he'll have headphones on, sometimes he won't. Sometimes he'll be wearing a full on leather jacket, despite the weather. Sometimes he'll just have a t-shirt on, with cut off sleeves that show off his glorious, tattooed arms. Sometimes his long curly hair will be down by his shoulders. Sometimes it'll be tied back out of his face.
But if there's one constant, it's that he is always there.
And he is cute.
Steve wants to talk to him, but he doesn't know what to say to the stranger. Doesn't really know how he would approach him either. Just walking up feels too weird, and forget sliding into the empty space on the bench beside him. Asking about the journal feels way too personal, too. And just saying "Hi, I've seen you around" feels sort of creepy (even though Robin assures him it isn't — it's just a conversation starter).
So instead of outright acknowledging him, Steve decides to be a bit subtler about catching his attention. He surreptitiously alters the course of his jog so that he runs directly past the guy, and if he starts wearing his old shorts from high school that are a little too tight, a little too short, well. Thats for him to know and this guy to notice.
It goes on like that for a few weeks. Steve jogging his new path, right past Cute Guy, trying to sneak a peek from his peripherals as he passes to see if Cute Guy is looking back. And either Cute Guy is really good about timing his looks, or he's just not looking.
It's kind of a total bummer. A real shame. But who knows, maybe Cute Guy already has someone at home. Or maybe he's not into guys. Or maybe he's just not interested in some random, sweaty stranger at the park who stares too much.
Oh well, Steve thinks. Even if Cute Guy isn't interested, he at least gives Steve something nice to look at on his run that isn't a tree so. He'll take what he can get.
And then one day Steve jogs past, not really paying Cute Guy much attention this time.
Only then he hears, "Excuse me! Excuse me, hey, dude, you dropped something!"
Steve slows to a stop, patting at his chest and pockets as he turns back. He has no idea what he could have dropped — he doesn't bring a whole lot to lose on his jogs in the first place, but there's no way Cute Guy is talking to anyone else.
But also hello Cute Guy is talking to him. Who the fuck cares if he didn't drop anything?
So Steve jogs back towards the guy, who is on his feet now, and jesus his jeans are tight. Steve approaches slow, tries to keep his eyes up, and comes to a stop in front of him. "Oh?" He asks. "I did?"
Cute Guy nods. "Yeah," he says, and holds out a little scrap of paper. He lets a grin (a dimpled grin, be still Steve's heart) spread across his face, tilts his head a little, and goes, "You dropped my number."
Sure enough, right there on the little scrap of paper, are seven digits and a name.
Eddie.
Steve looks back up at Cute Guy— at Eddie. Then he folds the paper back up and makes a show of tucking it safely into his pocket, pulling the zipper across so it won't fall out. He pats his pocket and grins back at Eddie. "Wouldn't want to lose that," he tells him. He sways forward on the balls of his feet, lifts a hand to his mouth like he's telling a secret. "Rumor has it that's going to get me a date with a very cute boy."
Eddie's eyes sparkle and his smile brightens. "I can assure you, that is no rumor."
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selineram3421 · 5 months
Text
*has a little idea* I've gotta listen to brain commands.
First Day
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Alastor and Child Reader
Warning! ⚠
⚠ implied murder, mention of kidnapping, mention of heart attack, shake of head=no, fake crying lol, italic red=Alastor's thoughts ⚠
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Alastor didn't understand why some demons worried over the little children that ran amuck in Hell.
That is until he adopted one himself.
Small, wide eyed, and frail looking. Of course he'd worry after a glance. But after seeing the pile of dead bodies beneath their feet, it seemed like there wasn't too much to worry about.
So all he had to do was teach them how to make others fear them. Especially after the whole kidnapping fiasco with Valentino.
And what better timing than their first day of school.
.
You were playing around in the hotel.
Most of it was following Husk around and scaring the other hotel guests. But then Charlie told Alastor the number of complaints from guests about you and your pranks.
"They are absolutely harmless! What's a little scare going to do?", the deer demon said.
"Someone had a heart attack.", Vaggie piped in.
"Nuh-uh!", you popped up out of nowhere, making the two females jump in surprise. "That frog demon croaked! He's just mad that I made him make a funny sound."
The blonde sighs before holding out a flyer to the red dressed demon.
"Look, I know you're just having fun but not all demons think its funny.", she tells you before looking at Alastor. "There's a school for demon children not too far from the hotel, maybe they can meet demons their age and make friends?"
After dinner you and Alastor sat down on the couch in the hotel room and read through the flyer.
"I don't want to go.", you pouted.
"Don't worry my little terror, we'll think of something.", he booped your nose. "Perhaps we can use this as training!"
"Training?", you repeated.
"Yes! We'll use this as an opportunity!", Alastor said as he stood from the couch, turning to hold out a hand for you to take. "Come little one, there's much I have to teach you."
.
"Remember what I taught you little one!", Alastor says, fixing their coat. "Anything can be a weapon..."
"With enough force and creativity!", they said confidently.
"Correct!", his smile brightened. "Now, let's go show the ladies that you are a proper demon with manners so they feel bad for sending you out. Remember to look sad."
"Hmhmm!", the nod again before taking a deep breath, putting on their sad face and looking down at the floor.
"Perfect.", he approved before leading them by the hand down to the lobby.
Both of the girls were waiting by the entrance doors to say their goodbyes to the little demon.
"We are ready!", Alastor announces.
"Hey! We got them a-", Charlie starts before noticing the little demon's sad face. "..lunch box."
Vaggie squints at them but doesn't say anything.
Though the Radio Demon can see that his little one's sad face is affecting her as well, the moth demon clenching her fists.
"Now, what do we say mon petit?", the deer demon pats their back.
"I'm..", they say but don't look up yet. "I'm sorry for being bad and I'll go to school so..", finally they look up at the girls with little tears starting to well up. "Please don't be mad anymore."
Charlie is obviously affected the most and looks over at her partner, receiving a shake of the head from the white haired demon in response.
The princess takes a breath before handing over the lunch box to the little demon. "Its only for a little bit, alright?"
"Ok..", they say, still keeping up with the act before turning to face him. "Bye Alastor."
"It won't be for long, don't worry.", he 'reassures' them. "I'll pick you up when school is out."
They nod before hugging his side.
He pats them on the head before waving them goodbye as they walk out of the hotel and to the school bus.
Bidding the ladies adieu, Alastor lets his smile widen after turning away from the two, wondering how his little demon will cause chaos.
I can't wait to hear all about it~
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*wipes away tears after typing out the fake crying* I was that child huh.
~Seline, the person.
Part 2
Taglist@
@willowaudreykeyes @kiraisastay @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @scary-noodlesblog @naelys-the-aster @ducky-died-inside @biromanticboba @+?
ML for Alastor🎙
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kairiscorner · 9 months
Note
Do you have any other miles 42 headcanons?
hiii !! i have a few romantic ones, like how he'd act like around his crush >:> here they are, i hope you like them!
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
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miles g. morales falling for you headcanons !!
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he'd definitely overthink about how he feels about you, because despite coming off as a rizz master, boy has no clue on what to do with these butterflies in his stomach and the warmth he feels when you're close by or when you give him a smile, LIKEEEE he knows how to pull, he just doesn't know what to do when he gets pulled
he'd do the same as his counterpart in 1610 and find himself drawing, sketching, painting you through his graffiti--you left a lasting impression on him that made him want to see you a whole lot, and without even realizing it, he's expressing that need to want to see you, be around you through putting his image of you out through his art.
he pays attention to the little things you do :> he does seem apathetic and stoic at times, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care about you. he's observant, and when you have all his attention, you bet he's gonna notice all the little things you do and just admire you and how cute you are.
he is definitely a nerd. i think if you caught him with a keychain or pin of his favorite game or show and just complimented him about it, or talked to him about it, he would fall harder for you.
he talks to his uncle a lot about you, and it was through his uncle aaron that he realized he was falling in love when he walked miles through those feelings he couldn't really name or place his finger on.
he feels more confident about himself through the little compliments you give him, even though you might mean them in a friendly way. it really brightens his day when you tell him his shoes look nice, that his braids look beautiful, that he looks a little nicer than he did before--little do you know he tweaks himself up a little bit subconsciously due to your compliments, takes better care of himself, pays more attention to how he looks for you.
HE PRACTICES RIZZING YOU UP WHEN HE LOOKS AT HIMSELF IN THE MIRRORRRRR
+ rio once walked in on him doing that and kept teasing him about it
++ she told uncle aaron and they did not shut up about it, with uncle aaron telling him to just play cool as miles is flustered, embarrassed, sweaty in the palms, and shaky in the knees about it HEHE
he tells himself to always 'be cool' around you and when he feels confident about himself facing you, he loses all the confidence he had prior to you catching up with him to talk, and becomes a melting, stuttering mess when you get too close or your gaze becomes a little too piercing.
+ when you smile at him, he FALLS APARTTTTT
tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @solecitoszn @q2ie @zalayni @anikaluv @conitagray
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photo1030 · 4 months
Note
Pls do a fic or smthing where readers old guy friend finds her and they reconnect and they’re both crying and Arthur is like who is this and reader is like he’s my closest friend from home I haven’t seen him in ages and Arthur is all jealous kinda
Hi, Kids!
So sorry for the wait. Life has been busy, but I've been plugging away on this one. Thank you so much for this "ask"! This was actually an idea that I had for my regular "Arthur x reader" fic, so I was happy to oblige. I wrote this to coincide with my reg fic and I decided to go more angsty than smutty for this one, so I hope that is OK for the Anon who asked.
**Special thanks to @readingcoco for beta-reading for me. Your help was priceless.
LEATHER AND LACE - SAY HELLO TO AN OLD FRIEND
Summary: Arthur is none too pleased when you run into an old friend from your previous life. 
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*This is not my image. This belongs to Rafa on Pintrest. Beautiful work there.
Masterlist
Tagging: @daisybvck
The banging of an anvil echoes heavily in your ears, the deafening ringing thumping in your brain. You and Arthur have wandered into the busy town of Cripple Creek to see the local farrier. You have spent the last day hunting and while coming down through the valley pass, your horse, Blue, had thrown a shoe. Never one to neglect your horse, you insisted Arthur take you into the closest town to get him some attention immediately. 
Now, Arthur is a firm believer in taking proper care of one’s horse, as a man’s horse means his survival. But the way you fuss over this spoiled animal as if he were your child causes Arthur to just chuckle and shake his head at you. 
Coming out of the farrier’s building, you shield the sun from your eyes as you look around at the townspeople. The area seems pleasant enough. It is a depot location for one of the railroad lines, so there is a lot of traffic. People are coming and going, always in a hurry to go somewhere or nowhere. But always in a hurry to get there all the same. 
You passed several pungent livestock farms on the way here, but now you can inhale deeply, enjoying the fresh air being pulled into your lungs. A slight breeze kicks up, lifting the soft tendrils of hair that frame your face to sway gently in its wake.
Arthur looks over as he lights his cigarette, amused at how your eyes roll closed and your whole body relaxes in a rare moment of peace and quiet. He really should get you out of that camp more often. Maybe he’ll hold off a bit on returning home, and the two of you can spend some more time alone together.
You can feel the bulk of him leaning in closer to you as his gloved hand runs down your spine to land on the small of your back. “Well, what do ya think? Should we get a room for the night or just rut about in the woods like we usually do?” 
Your lips pull into a smile at his suggestion, and when you open your eyes, you are met with Arthur’s twinkling suggestively at you. Your face immediately brightens as you turn your body into him, hands finding their way to his broad chest. Your fingertips play with the upturned collar of his faded black button-down shirt. Giggling with excitement at the idea, you push up onto your tiptoes, your nose flirtatiously inches from his. Arthur’s hands settle comfortably at your hips, his arms enfolding you.
“Y/N? Y/F&LN, is that you?”
 A vaguely familiar voice distracts you from answering Arthur’s question, but you can’t quite place it. Turning your head in confusion, you search for the source, and suddenly, your eyes widen with recognition. 
“Robert?” Your gaze lands on a tall, slender man making his way through the crowd towards you. He is well-dressed in a blue and gold brocade vest and has auburn hair neatly combed back. He’s sporting more facial hair than you remember, giving him a distinguished look. He’s a bit older now, but you’d recognize that wide, toothy smile anywhere. An unexpected shriek of excitement escapes your lips as your hands slip away from Arthur. “Robert!!”
Arthur stands there dumbfounded as he watches excitement overtake your whole body as you run into the waiting arms of this mystery man. Who in the hell is this person? And why did you just abandon Arthur to embrace him like that? You and this strange man hug each other tightly, laughing and smiling as if God himself had gifted you each other.
“I thought you were dead, Y/N!” the man exclaims, holding you at arm’s length so he can take a good look at you. 
“I thought you went to Europe! I thought I’d never see you again!” you laugh incredulously. Shaking your head in wonder, you throw your arms around the man’s neck again.
Arthur stands quietly, eyebrows knitted together, lips pulled into a thin line. He doesn’t like this one bit. The only person he’s ever seen you this excited over is him. Arthur’s fingers tap impatiently along his belt where his hands sit idle, as he waits for you to finish this reunion. Eventually, he clears his throat to try to turn your attention back to him.
Finally remembering yourself, you turn towards Arthur. “Arthur, this is Robert, my best friend.” Arthur’s eye catches how your arm eagerly loops around the man’s elbow. “We knew each other as kids. We grew up together back east!” You continue to gush as you present your old friend to your current lover. “Robert, this is Arthur.” You motion to the mountain of a man standing to your right. 
Robert’s face lights up as he boldly strides closer, extending his hand out to shake Arthur’s. “So nice to meet you, Arthur!” His voice chirps with bravado and swagger, instantly making Arthur’s skin crawl. When Arthur doesn’t reply with the same enthusiasm, Robert turns back to you, eyebrows raised with curiosity. “So, is this your…husband?”
A slight giggle comes from your lips at the suggestion. “No, we’re not married. But he is mine.” You smile proudly at Arthur, your hand reaching over and squeezing his. Arthur smiles down at you as his body drifts slightly closer to yours. His strong arm snakes around your waist until you rest protectively against him. When he sees you beaming at him, it sets him at ease a bit with this intruder and he tries to relax a little. 
“Robert, is it? Well, Robert, looks like you and Y/N go way back, huh?” Arthur asks, trying not to come off as annoyed as he feels right now. 
“Oh boy, do we. We used to get in all kinds of trouble together.” Robert waves his hand in emphasis, then reaches out to tap your arm. “Y/N, remember when we used to sneak out and stay up ‘til 3:00 in the morning?”
You cover your mouth in embarrassment. “God, if my father ever found out what we were up to, he’d have taken a belt to me for sure!” you roll your eyes.
Robert’s dark eyes fall upon you with a sweet and nostalgic look, one held with affection of a time long past. “Used to be you and me, spitting off the edge of the world, right?” He leans over to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from Arthur and into his side.
You smile affectionately back at your friend, nodding in agreement. “That’s right. You and me.” 
‘You and me’ - The phrase sticks in Arthur’s brain, a phrase you should only be using in reference to him… not some other random fella. His lip curls into a slight sneer of contempt, however, you are too caught up in the camaraderie with your friend to notice. 
“We need to catch up! Come on, let’s get a drink and a bite to eat. I want to know everything that’s been going on with you since we last saw each other,” insists Robert, tugging on the sleeve of your white cotton tunic. 
“Oh, yes!” You turn towards Arthur. “Can we, Arthur? We have time, don’t we?”
Right now, Arthur wants nothing more than to get you away from this man, this town and everyone else in the world. But he can’t say no to that wishful look on your face. He doesn’t have the heart to crush your hope. That has always been Arthur’s weakness:  he can never say no to you. 
“Fine, I guess we got some time to spare,” Arthur reluctantly agrees, trying to hide the disdain that threatens to break through his patient facade. You clasp your hands together, giving a little hop of excitement.
The three of you turn to head down the side of the street, with you and Robert chit-chatting incessantly the whole time. As you stroll along, Robert explains how he has become a lawyer and is traveling to California to take care of some estate affairs for a prominent family. He is just stopping for a layover in Cripple Creek to catch a connecting train.
Instead of going to a saloon, you reach a little restaurant along the main strip in town and head inside. Robert orders a bottle of the best liquor the bar has to offer, and you all sit around a table as he proceeds to tell you of all the gossip from back home. 
Robert is so animated and full of life and fun, not caring at all about the judgmental looks of others as he loudly tells you anecdote after anecdote. But he’s always been like this. For as long as you’ve known him Robert doesn’t care what anyone thinks and therefore is free to do as he pleases. This is something that you have always loved about him and why you were such good friends when you were younger. He was a breath of fresh air in a stuffy upper-class world. And to be honest, you always had a bit of a crush on him, too.
“So, David and Clare got married, you know,” he smirks. Of course, Robert is referring to your ex-fiance who you were betrothed to, who, as it turned out, was sleeping with your friend the whole time. 
“I figured as much,” you reply dismissively.
“Huge obnoxious wedding, of course.” Robert waves his hand with a flourish.
You huff out an unimpressed chuckle. “I figured as much,” you repeat again.
“Wasn’t even six months, and the rumors were flying about his infidelity.” Robert laughs at the absurdity of it. You roll your eyes and take a large swig from your glass. “You dodged a bullet there, my friend.” Robert gives you a wink. 
Arthur has to stifle a snicker at the irony of the man’s choice of language.
“Probably should’ve just married you myself,” smiles Robert. The statement makes you blush a bit under Robert’s affectionate gaze. But it is a statement that sets Arthur on edge. 
Arthur patiently pretends to listen as you and Robert continue to laugh and joke about old friends and the social scene you left behind, the pair of you growing more and more chummy, until eventually, you find yourself resting a hand on Robert's forearm as you speak. Arthur clenches his fist tightly under the table, his eyes staring at your fingers and watching as they absentmindedly dance along Robert’s arm. It is not intended to be a flirtatious move, as it is a mannerism that you often do when you are excited about what you are talking about. But it is an action that Arthur resents all the same right now. 
You try your best to involve Arthur in the conversation but to be frank, you are discussing people and places that he has no frame of reference for. The only thing that does pique his interest is the way Robert keeps referring to you. That certainly has Arthur's attention. But he has to be careful. He can see how happy you are and doesn't want his temper to burst your little bubble. However, if he had his way, he would be grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to the closest hotel to make you forget your own name, let alone another man's.
Arthur hates that you have this “other language” and bond with someone who is not only outside the gang, but outside his class altogether. He’d forgotten where you came from and what you’d given up to be with the Van Der Linde gang and him along with it. And this conversation with this ghost of your past only confirms it. Arthur tries not to glare at Robert as he takes in the man’s fine clothing and clean hands that have probably never seen a day of labor in his life. 
The whole thing is a harsh reminder that Arthur may not only be holding you back in life but actually pushing you down. 
“So,” Robert finally turns his attention away from you, ”What do you do for a living, Art?” Robert asks innocently.
The very sound of Robert’s voice makes Arthur bristle. “The name…is Arthur,” he grits out. “And it’s none of your damn business what I do.” At this point, Arthur wants nothing more than to plant his massive fist in this pompous fool’s face.
You instantly pick up on Arthur’s annoyance. You can see his steel blue eyes set hard as his fist clenches around the glass in his hand. Arthur’s head tilts slightly to the side as he watches Robert, and you know from experience that he is measuring the man up. Robert is only being nice, ever the extravert, but he has no idea what sort of man is sitting across from him. 
“Easy now, Arthur,” you chuckle nervously as you pat his burly forearm. “Robert is only asking out of curiosity.” Arthur shoots you a look that you can’t quite place. “Arthur does a little bit of everything,” you quickly answer Robert to avoid further awkwardness. “He’s done bounty work, loan collecting, things like that.”
“Interesting,” muses Robert. 
“Well, I’d rather be an honest sinner than a lying hypocrite,” asserts Arthur as he levels his gaze across the table at Robert.
“I assume you work with horses quite a bit, too, then?” Robert pushes as his eyes roam up and down over Arthur.
“I do.”
“Figured as much. You seem pretty ‘rough and rugged’ like the cowboys we read about back in the city.” Arthur’s eyebrows knit as his mouth turns into a slight frown. “Oh, I don’t mean anything by it, friend! You look fantastic!” Robert insists. “In fact, I couldn’t be happier for Y/N. Looks like she’s got herself a real man. Those sniveling, uppity simpletons back home were never her type.”
“And I assume you are?” Arthur asks. This causes you to look at him questioningly. 
“Me? Oh, no. We were never like that.” Robert waves the comment off, not reading the underlying meaning of Arthur’s question.
“He’s right. Being married to Robert would be like being married to a puppy,” you joke, trying to lighten the ominous mood that Robert is thankfully oblivious to.
“True. But, you have to admit, we would have made quite the pair, wouldn’t we?” Robert leans over and nudges you in the side with that wide smile of his again. 
Arthur roughly grabs his glass of whiskey and throws it back, the bitter liquor hitting his throat, before he slams the glass down onto the table. 
“What are you gettin’ at, there, Robert? Hmm? You think Y/N would be better off with you than me? Is that it?” The icy stare that Arthur throws at Robert is cold enough to frost the windows of the room. His chiseled jaw sets tightly, his body tense as if about to explode. Your stomach drops as you realize that Robert has indeed crossed a line with Arthur, whether he has intended to or not. And you find yourself at an impasse:  do you stand by your man, or do you defend your oldest and dearest friend?
Finally, seeing that Arthur is not amused by his antics, Robert takes the hint and clears his throat nervously. “Well, it has been so wonderful to catch up with you, Y/N!” He stands up from the table and adjusts his vest, running his hand over his hair to make sure everything is still in its place. You and Arthur stand as well in anticipation of the farewell. You are reluctant to say goodbye to your friend, and Arthur is anxious to leave. 
The three of you silently file out of the little restaurant together and onto the busy sidewalk.
“I truly hope we can do this again sometime soon, Y/N. Maybe if I swing through these parts again, I’ll reach out.” Robert says hopefully.
“I’d like that, Robert. Please do.” You affectionately place your hand on his arm. “I’ve missed you quite a bit since I’ve been out here.” You give each other a tight hug, one that lasts a bit longer than Arthur’s liking. But then again, Arthur doesn’t like anyone touching you for any reason. 
“Arthur, it was a pleasure to meet you.” Robert smiles and sticks his arm out to shake Arthur’s hand again, which he reluctantly does. Arthur’s large hand dwarfs Robert’s as it clamps down extra hard. “Take good care of our girl, yes?” 
“Sure,” Arthur deadpans. “Our girl.”
Robert gives you both an awkward smile and turns to head back down the street towards the train depot. Your eyes follow him as your chest feels heavy at having to say goodbye to a part of your past. 
When you turn back to Arthur to thank him for his patience, you are met with his hard face. 
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he snaps. 
Sighing in exasperation, you cross your arms over your chest. “Don’t give me that.” You knew this argument was coming. 
“Just that you seem awfully close with that Robert fella.” The contempt in Arthur’s voice is not lost on you.
“Well, yeah, he’s my best friend.” 
Arthur’s jaw clenches just a bit more at your answer. “Uh-huh.”
Your head tilts slightly to the side, eyes narrowing as you study him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“Like I said, you two seem awfully close.” His voice drops low and slow, almost spitting out the words like a spoiled piece of meat.
“That’s because we are. He was the only true friend I had, Arthur.” You shuffle your weight from hip to hip, becoming increasingly uncomfortable under Arthur’s scrutiny. You suddenly feel like one of his marks.
“Uh-huh.” Arthur’s simple responses quickly escalates your annoyance as you watch him pull a cigarette out of his pocket, striking the match on the nearby building with enough force that the wooden stick almost snaps between his fingertips. 
“Oh my God, are you jealous?” you ask, disturbed at the turn in the conversation. 
“Nope.” Dipping his head down, his eyes are hidden by his dusty, worn hat as his fingers bring the cigarette back up to his lips. 
“No?”
“Alright, maybe I am,” he suddenly spins on you, face turning crimson. “Maybe I don’t like how excited you get to see another man. Maybe I don’t like you all laughing and smiling at someone else.” 
Your heart begins to pound in your ears, taken aback by his surge of anger. “Arthur-”
“Don’t!” he barks at you. “Just…don’t! I can’t compete with that, and you know it!” He points his finger accusingly at you. 
“Arthur, I'm not asking you to compete with anyone! In fact, there’s a reason why I left all that behind.” You step towards him, arms raised to embrace him, but he blocks your hands with his own.
“Save it!” And he storms off, leaving you standing there on the sidewalk. Butterflies swirl in your stomach, leaving you queasy. A storm of guilt, frustration, and yes even anger, rages inside your chest. You wrap your arms around yourself as you try to make sense of what just happened.
“Damn it, Arthur,” you mutter. 
—---------------------------------------------------
Rather than chase after him, you decide to leave Arthur be and give him time to cool off. There’s no talking to him when he gets like this, as it usually escalates into a fight if you push it. You feel awful for making him feel bad, as you are well aware of how self-conscious he is. But then again, what about your feelings? You have every right to visit with an old friend and a dear one at that. Yes, you know how it looks. You and Robert always did have a special bond that bordered on the flirtatious side. But you love Arthur. And he knows that. You love him with a depth that could swallow the stars. And you are getting tired of having to constantly prove that to him.
After an hour of wandering the local shops to stall for time, you decide to find Arthur, knowing exactly where you’ll find him. Your boot heels click along the worn floorboard of the porch outside of the saloon. You can hear the chatter and piano music coming from inside. You look through the window, eyes searching for your target. Between the small sea of dusty hats and hulking shoulders, you catch sight of that familiar form that you seek. 
Walking into the building, your hands roll over each other, fingers intertwining, as you take a shaky breath when you approach Arthur at the bar. You glide onto the stool beside him, fidgeting slightly to get comfortable. He sits quietly, still brooding with a menacing vibe radiating off of him. You motion to the bartender, who walks over when he catches your eye. “What’ll it be, Miss?”
“A beer, please.” 
“Comin’ right up”. It only takes a minute for him to grab a bottle and set it next to the coin you’ve already placed for him. His thick, ready fingers pick it up off the bar top with a pleasant nod of approval as he sets about his previous task. 
You spin the bottle between your fingertips, looking at Arthur from the corner of your eye. “So, are we going to talk about this?”
He continues to sulk quietly, lifting a shot of whiskey to his lips and downing it in one. His jaw clenches at the sting of the cheap liquor, but he promptly pours another shot into the diminutive glass, the bottle half empty at this point.
“Alright, fine.” You take a swig of your beer.
“Where’s your ‘friend’?” Arthur grunts without even looking at you. 
“Robert is about to get on a train.”
“Mmhmm”.
“Arthur-”
“Alright, look, I’m sorry,” he interupts, slicing his hand through the air as if to end the argument right here. “Please don’t make a big deal outta this.”
“What were you worried about? That I’d run off with Robert?”
“Wouldn’t you?” he blurts out bitterly.
“You can’t be serious?” Your face twists up in shock. He only answers you with a snort of derision. “Arthur, I was excited to see an old friend. That’s all,” you stress emphatically. “You have to remember, I am surrounded by your people, your family, all of the time. This is the first time I’ve seen someone from my previous life.” Your tone unwittingly begins to take on one of annoyance as you try to plead your case. But it is an argument that is falling on deaf and angry ears.
“I’m sorry, I thought the gang was ‘your people’, too,” he bites back. Arthur can be a reasonable man until he is provoked, and then reason doesn’t factor in at all. 
“Well, they are,” you backpedal sheepishly at his harshness. Your gaze falters to land on the bottle in your hands before attempting to meet Arthur’s again. “But you know what I mean. You can’t be angry because I was happy to see someone from my life that, heaven forbid, didn’t involve the Van der Linde gang.” 
Artur just pouts in silence. You are getting really irritated at this point, but trying to remain calm and not cause a scene.
“So you’d just let me run away with Robert rather than talk to me and ask me to stay with you? Is that it?” you huff.
“Couldn't help but notice how excited you were to hear about everything back home. Almost like you miss it. Pretty damn clear after your little visit today that you don’t even belong here. Maybe you should.” And another shot gets poured into the glass.
Damn it, and there it is. The thing that always seems to be present in your relationship:  the idea that you still don’t belong, even after all this time and everything that you’ve done. Arthur still doesn’t see you as “one of them”. And it is a sting that doesn’t sit well with you at all. 
Your eyes begin to well up as you try to fight the lump forming in your throat. ”I can’t believe you just said that to me.” Your lips tremble slightly with emotion, a mix of betrayal and anger swirling and bubbling up inside you like one of Pearson’s stews.
The very insinuation is hurtful to you. You have turned your life upside down for the gang and for him. And yet, it seems it will never be enough. It’s as if you are being punished for having a decent life before you were thrust into this new one. You didn’t fit into society back east, and it seems you still don’t fit here either. 
“Stop with the theatrics. I ain’t in a mood for it.” Arthur slings back another shot of whiskey. 
“You really are an ass sometimes, Arthur,” you stammer in disappointment.
He immediately slams his shot glass down on the bar, shattering it. The action startles you, your eyes shooting wide open. Arthur finally turns to face you now, his eyes burning into you so intensely that it causes you to cringe. You know damn well that you’re not perfect. But, it always made you feel special that Arthur seemed to think so. But the look he’s giving you right now is plain enough for you to know that he no longer believes it. 
And the wounded expression on your face enrages Arthur even more. The sight of you cowering like a lamb to slaughter because of his anger is too much. He’s furious at the everything right now:  you, Robert, this town, and more importantly, himself. He grabs the whiskey bottle on the counter and whips it at the wall, sending shards of glass flying into the thick smokey air to rain down onto the immediate vicinity. 
With your breath shaking, you slowly stand and back away from him. For the first time ever…you are afraid of him.
The tumultuous noise alerts the bartender, who promptly yells at Arthur. “Hey, watch it! You gotta problem, you take it outside! Don’t be causing a ruckus around here!” He shoves his thick, meaty finger towards the doors. 
“Mind your own goddamn business ‘fore I give you a problem!” Arthur shouts back, now standing as well, leveling his gaze at the bartender. 
With Arthur distracted by the barkeep, you turn and push your way through the now-curious crowd and make a dash for the door. 
Your feet clumsily carry you down the steps as you sprint into the street, eyes watering and hands trembling from anger. 
“Hey! Hey! (Y/N)!” It doesn’t take long before you hear Arthur’s gravelly voice hollering down the street for you. 
“Leave me alone, Arthur!” you shout over your shoulder, not even bothering to turn around. Tears of anger are dangerously close to flowing as you walk even faster, your arms pumping back and forth to propel you further down the road. But Arthur is quick to catch up to you with his long strides.
“Where you goin’?” You can hear him quickly stalking up behind you, his spurs jingling heavily in the dirt of the street. 
“Doesn’t matter, right? I don’t belong here, remember?” You throw his words back into his face with such a biting tone. “Maybe I’ll see if there’s a seat next to Robert on the damn train!”
“Like hell you will!” Arthur yanks on your arm, his grip painful like a vice, spinning you around. 
But before you can even think clearly, your hand flies as if of its own accord, and you hear the sharp smack land across his cheek, cracking in the air before you feel the sting against your delicate hand. Arthur’s head snaps to the side from the strike, his eyes twisted shut from the impact.
Gasping, your eyes shoot open in shock as your hands immediately cover your mouth. You stand there, silent and trembling. Your chest heaves with broken breathing and choked sobs as you take a few steps back from him. You hate him so much right now. Not because of what he’s said, although that is bad enough, but because he has pushed you to this point. You never, ever want to hurt him. Arthur is dearer to you than life itself. You had never imagined raising a hand or weapon to the man you so desperately love, and yet, he has pushed you, backed you into a corner, to do so. 
“Oh…I’m sorry,” you utter, the sound barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Arthur.” Your eyes are glossy with unshed tears as your unwavering gaze never leaves his face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction. As you blink rapidly, a tear finally escapes your lower lash to cascade and roll over your hot cheek. 
Arthur freezes before his gaze slowly turns back to you. But what he sees shocks him. The very sight of you in your heightened state almost breaks his heart in two. Shame coats his insides as he realizes his jealousy has gotten the best of him. And the pain and fear in your eyes is worse than any bullet to the gut, rocking him to his very core. 
Arthur’s expression journeys from one of rage to shock to one of absolute remorse. He says nothing, which begins to terrify you even more. Arthur is known for his temper, even taking his frustrations out on you when needed. You pride yourself on the notion that Arthur may be difficult to handle but never for you. You have always been able to read him, to know his mind better than himself, which is why he relies on you so greatly. You set his world to right when it goes off-kilter. But now, you feel a great divide between you. You stare at him with no idea of what will happen next. 
Arthur’s strong arms extend out towards you as a silent apology. But instead of falling into them, you shrink back from him. He halts immediately, turning his palms up in surrender. But slowly, he steps a bit closer to you. Arthur reaches out again, wrapping his hands carefully around your biceps. He can feel you tremble slightly under his fingertips. 
Regret sits heavily upon his brow. You can see the self-reproach embedded into his eyes as he stares into yours, searching for forgiveness that he prays you’ll grant him.
Your eyes leave his face, a silent understanding settling between you as you focus on the buttons of his shirt, watching as his chest rises and falls with his calming breath. 
With a deep sigh, he silently escorts you into the privacy of the immediate alley, gently pushing you back against the siding of the post office. 
“You’re mine.” Arthur does not say this out of anger or possession. Nor has he faltered into a blubbering mess. He simply utters the statement as pure fact, no question.  
“Am I?” you stammer. Your eyes lift to search his, looking for any doubt that may still linger. 
“You sure as shit are.” Arthur’s voice is low but carries the loving undertone you always take refuge in as the slightest hint of a grin pulls at the corner of his mouth.
“Really? Ten minutes ago, you were ready to let me walk out that door. Told me that I shouldn’t be here.”
Arthur pulls his lips inward at the dismay in your quaking voice. “I shouldn’t ‘ve said that. That was me being a goddamn idiot. But, it is true, ya know. You don’t belong in that gang, Y/N. I keep tellin' ya you’re too good for it. You deserve the finer things in life, things like Robert can give ya.” 
Your shoulders fall with a painful sigh as your eyes gently drift shut again. You are so tired of having this same conversation over and over again.
“But,” he continues, “I do want you there. I want you with me. I need you, Y/N. We need you. It’s selfish, I know.” His chin bobs slightly in acknowledgement. “God forgive me, but we do.”
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Arthur. I want to belong somewhere. And to someone.” You look at Arthur with an almost desperate expression on your face. Your whole life, you’ve been floating like a leaf in the wind, bobbing about with no particular place to land. You thought you had finally found your place, your home, with the Van Der Linde gang, no matter how unlikely it seemed. And when Arthur threw it back in your face, it was like being pushed off a cliff to free-fall backwards with no one to catch you. 
He lifts his rough hand to cup your face, his thumb ghosting over your cheek. “I won’t ever let you go, Y/N. Not ever. Not even if someone else comes along.” Your eyes begin to flutter again as the feeling of his skin on yours reassures you. You wrap your own hands around his wrist, holding his hand in place as you lean your face into his warm palm.
“Arthur, I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. The way you make me feel when I look at you is why I could never look at another.” Your eyes sparkle brightly in earnest, the last of your tears rimmed along your lashes. 
He only hesitates a moment before he pulls you close to him. He secures you safely against him where you belong, your chest pressed up against his as powerful arms coil around you to lock you in. Arthur lowers his face to nudge your nose with his before planting his lips to kiss you slow and deep, taking your breath away.
When his lips separate from yours, Arthur briefly rests his forehead on yours before pulling back to look into your face once more. His eyes are intense and reflect a deeper shade of blue than you’ve ever seen. A wolfish grin begins to emerge under that peppered beard stubble as his finger tucks a rogue strand of hair behind your ear.
“Like I said, Y/N, you…are…mine.”
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Note
HII okay so ik this is a bit of a weird request (or maybe im js rlly anxious rn for some reason??) BUT i was wondering if u could do like little head canons of Leo and a female reader who has like, a really deep country accent IYKWIM?? PLS N THANK U dont rush or anything js a small request🫶🫶
✮⋆˙ howdys, yeehaws, and cowgirls; leo valdez x western! daughter of apollo! reader blurb
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content: leo valdez x western! daughter of apollo! reader blurb warning: lanauage and stereotyping (?) of texans but it's okay yall will get over it author's note: as someone from rural california (yes ive been trying to gaslight you guys into thinking i live on the beach when really it's three hours away stfu) and literally just went to a school sanctioned line dance that is quite literally more anticipated than prom, i feel more than qualified to answer this prompt lmao. ive seen a pair of cowboys more than once everyday my whole life. for FUN kids i know raise pigs and cows and lambs and shit and then sell them off at fairs. also do not stress bby, this wasn't a weird request at all! in fact it was so good i made a whole blurb lmao. ALEXA play my childhood country playlist, thank you miss girl. 10 year old me knew good music when she heard it okay, stfu. OH AND PLAY COWBOY CARTER WHILE YOUR AT IT YALL COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE BEYOUNCE LEAVE MY GIRL ALONE FRFR you just dont wanna admit the albums good smh
to say leo missed texas, would be a lie. there was a deep ache in his chest to just go home. it was a strange feeling, considering he couldn't remember the last time he was in that state, as the foster system was eager to drag him all over the country. he missed the sticky and dry heat, he missed the longhorn cows that always seemed to be in the roads, and what he missed most of all was whattaburger. him and will mourned the loss of the beloved food chain weekly, if not daily. but, he only ever mentioned these feelings around will and simply in passing. he didn't think people would understand why he missed the state who's accent he tried his best to rid himself of.
which is why, when news spread of a new camper from texas, leo was buzzing to meet them. what was failed to be mentioned in the rumors, though, was the fact that you were a girl and also drop dead gorgeous. he was staring at you in a way that would have his mother smacking him upside the head, cursing him out in spanish. it took a bit for him to introduce himself, his nerves allowing his accent to slip through occationally.
"are ya from texas?" you asked, eagerly, your eyes brightening in a way that had leo's knees buckling. your voice, oh gods, your voice-
"yeah," he breathed out, bordering on a coo as you cheered.
"finally! and here i thought there were no cowboys left in new york," you teased, poking his chest with a finger before someone from the hermes cabin was calling you over. you flashed him a smile brigther than the sun on a hot texas day and scampered off, your cowgirl booties with bows clanking to the beat of leo's heart as you went.
from that day forwards, it was hard to see you without leo close by. finally, someone else to talk to about texas. sure, will was great, but he was a busy guy with all his medical stuff and boyfriend. and your voice left leo like a fly to honey. it was sexy and got him hot and heavy. but, it was also a comforting dialect that had him thinking of childhood, sweet tea, and sweltering heat.
and then you were claimed by apollo, only a few days after your arrival. i guess apollo has a thing for cowgirls, and leo couldn't relate to the god more if he tried. leo was slightly worried that you'd turn out just like will, locked up inside the infirmary, destined only to share passing comments of missing real texan barbeque. but, then you came up to leo during lunch, blushing as you admitted that you fainted when kayla pressed the scalpel into your hand. and leo laughed, and silently thanked his lucky lone star.
then the more musically talented apollo kids caught wind of the fact that you sang in your church's choir as a kid and nearly blew the whole camp up in excitement. something about wanting to do a country performance for camp but never having a lead singer with the accent as they'd rather jump into the sea of monsters in speedos then listen to will attempt to sing. naturally, you were more than happy to sing, excitedly telling leo about the country songs you were picking out, even letting him request a few of his childhood favorites.
and as you were prancing around on that slapdash stage with your siblings, singing proudly into a mic with your accent clear as day, leo fell a little bit more in love with you every note. and he fell back in love with texas, too, and everything it meant to him - everything he knew it meant to his mom. every twang of your voice and every playful tip of your cowboy hat had him thinking of how much his mother would have loved you or how he had wished the two of you could have met. nevertheless, he was laughing and singing along, front and center with will, there arms thrown around each other. they both wore barely thrown together western outfits, thought will had a hat, that despite leo's begging, he wouldn't give up.
at some point in the show, you were singing of coca cola and tight shirts, kneeling near the edge of the stage. leo was entranced as you locked eyes with him, just barely computing that you took your hat off and set it on his curls before jumping back up to your feet, singing about wanting to be wherever your boy was, throwing a wink to leo over your shoulder.
and gods, you were hotter than the blazing texas sun in the middle of summer, that much leo valdez was sure.
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buckys-wintersoldier · 4 months
Text
Candy Canes | Bucky Barnes
Pairing -> Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female!Reader
Summary -> Bucky wants to make candy canes with you but while you two make them he confesses his feelings for you.
Warnings -> (T) slight mention of smut things, fluff
Wordcount -> 1.2k
Prompt -> Fluffcember | Day 24 | “Okay, but I want to do that again. With you; only you” | Fandom-Free Bingo | G3 | “Like I said - I love you.” | @fandom-free-bingo
Request -> (anonymous) Hello!! I'm just wondering if you could write a fic for Christmas time where Bucky and Y/N make candy canes :) (yes you can make Candy Canes at home)
A/N -> Thank you for the request. I hope you like what I made with it. MARRY CHRISTMAS FOR Y’ALL. Thank you so much for the support and love. I really appreciate it and every one of you so much.💕
Divider made by @firefly-graphics.
Masterlist | Fluffcember | Fandom-Free Bingo | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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“Doll, are you here?” He asks and looks through the door. And when he sees you, his eyes immediately brighten, and the smile on his face becomes bigger. There he is, your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes. “Hey, Buck,” you say, and look at him, his eyes, his lips, and his hands, which hold the door frame.
“I thought we could make some candy canes today,” he says, walking closer to the table in front of you. You smile, and he places his bag on the chair before he walks around the table and presses his body against yours. “Have you done that before?” He asks, and you shake your head. “No, I wasn’t sure if I could do them by myself at home." You giggle when his breath meets your skin, and his soft stubbles brush over the sensitive skin of your neck.
He lets go of you, and you immediately miss the warmth of his body. Bucky walks back to his bag and puts some ingredients on the table. “Me neither, but Steve told me about it, and I thought I would try it with my favorite person,” he says, looking for some more things the two of you need. You just look at him; your smile grows when you realize the words, but at the same time, you know he is just your best friend, and you're just that for him. “Want to help me or stare at me the whole day?” He asks with a chuckle.
You immediately blush and rub the back of your neck before you try to focus on the candy canes. “I don’t mind staring at you the whole day, but I like some sweets too,” you say with a grin on your lips, and you walk to him, so you stand next to him and look at the ingredients he brought.
“Know why you need sweets?” He asks, but you shake your head. “Because you’re so sweet,” he giggles, and you blush again. You don’t know what to say, so you just grab some things off the counter and place them on the other things on the table.
Bucky has a paper in front of him and reads it; you can’t stop looking at him. Especially not when he is focused; every time he is, he plays with his hair and bites his bottom lip, which looks really hot. Then he lets go of his bottom lip for a moment, just to let his tongue glide over his lips.
He feels the gaze in him and smiles softly when he looks up, and you cough to hide that you stared at him again. “Looks like you can’t stop looking at me,” he teases. “I just wanted to wait until you’re ready with reading,” you say, and take the sugar to have something else to do instead of staring at him.
You look at him, and he nods, shoving the paper in the middle of the two of you, and you read it as well. A lot of sugar, a bit of water, more sugar, and have you already mentioned sugar? Definitely more sugar.
You pull the bowl closer and look for the amount of sugar you need. Meanwhile, Bucky looks at how much water you need for the candy canes and fills it into a big glass. After putting both into the bowl, you have a lot of sugar and water, and you’re focused on it. You almost relax when you see the water letting the sugar melt.
“We need to cook that, then we have it as one good mixture,” Bucky says, reading out loud what Steve wrote. “And that can work? I mean, we need something that is hard then." He asks and looks at you in confusion. You smile widely and bite your lip to not just burst out laughing.
But Bucky sees the way you smile and recognizes your gaze. “Don’t even think about it. We’re not going to make him hard and put him on sugar. It could be so hard to clean it, especially when it gets hard around my dick,” he says, placing his hands in front of his pants. You burst out laughing now. “I could help you,” you offer, and he immediately blushes.
Your eyes widen slightly when you recognize the red on his cheeks. Not able to focus on the candy canes, you walk a step closer to him. Your hands find their way to his cheeks, and you capture them, making him look down at you. “Why are you blushing? Do you like to hear me tell you I would do it?” You whisper, and his jaw clenches.
“Do you want me underneath you? Like best friends with benefits?” You ask, and his lips slide over his lips again. His eyes are blue like the ocean, and he is thinking about his answer to that question. “I don’t want you just like that, doll. I want you to be mine. I want to love you, sleep with you, wake up next to you, and bring you breakfast. I love you, the kind of love where we are going to marry and become a family,” he mumbles quietly, and your smirk widens when you hear him telling you all you feel for him too.
“You want to marry and have kids?” Is this the first thought in your head after his confession of his feelings for you? “With the right person, yes. And you’re the right one for me. Like I said - I love you,” he says and leans closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you closer against him. “Can I kiss you?” He asks, and you nod.
Bucky smiles and presses his lips softly on yours. Moving them slowly and giving you the most wonderful feeling rushing through your body. After a moment, you both catch your breath, but he holds you still, pressed against him, and looks at you with a wide smile. “I love you too, Buck. And I would love to marry you one day and become a family,” you mumble and lean your head against him, enjoying the warmth of his body.
“Let’s do the candy canes, and then we eat them while we watch a movie with hot chocolate?" He asks, and you immediately nod and turn back to the table with the candy canes. Bucky stands behind you, his arms wrapped around you, and he looks over your shoulder.
You put the other ingredients into the sugar and water mixture and let it cool. It doesn’t take long after that when you have the candy canes finished. Bucky’s fingers are stuck with the mixture, and he touches your cheek to glue himself onto you, and laughs. "Now you are stuck with me, you’re mine now,” he says, and you laugh. “Okay, but I want to do that again. With you; only you,” you whisper and he nods, smiling.
Bucky makes some hot chocolate while you clean a bit, and then the two of you are sitting on the couch, both of you with a cup of hot chocolate and a candy cane in your hand. You sit in Bucky’s lap, and your back is against his stomach while your head lays on his shoulder. You two watch the Grinch, and you can’t stop thinking about Grumpy Bucky as the Grinch.
“You would be a cute grinch,” you tell him, and he tickles you softly. You burst out laughing and try to escape his tickles, but he just wraps his arms around you and presses you more against him. Kissing your neck softly.
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Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @ergle-barnes | @km-ffluv | @kandis-mom | @lives-in-midgard | @bucky-barnes-lover | @felicitylemon | @sweater-bee | @identity2212 | @cjand10 | @bookishtheaterlover7 | @harleycao
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iwritefandomimagines · 2 months
Text
NOTES — JESS MARIANO
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based on a request
masterlist
pairing: jess mariano x reader
description: after months of mutual pining, jess arrives at luke’s having read your favourite novel. oh, and he has some notes.
warnings: swearing, jokey sexual reference, other than that just tooth rotting fluff vibes
author’s note: thank you so much for this request, i loved it sm i had to immediately start writing!!! i hope it does jess justice — i love writing him so much. i may go back and edit some bits im not 100% happy with — but i hope you enjoy!!!
pleaaaaase let me know what you think — i love love love reading you guys’ feedback <3
———
“I finished it.”
If you were anyone else, you’d have jumped out of your skin at the sudden, and rather loud, appearance of someone beside you.
But this was you, and it was Jess, so you were more than used to your ‘peaceful’ study sessions at Luke’s being interrupted by his ever-present smirk, his flirting and his endless supply of smartarse comments.
Not that you could complain.
You’d grown used to his omnipresence over a year ago. And it had been months now since you’d realised that you no longer just tolerated his company — you enjoyed it a ridiculous amount and instead longed for it when he wasn’t around.
You eyed him quizzically, noting how proud of himself he looked for reading your favourite book, but also noticing an unusual lack of self-assurance glimmering through his expression.
“I would ask if you mean this trig stuff for Mr Elton,” you gestured down to the homework you’d been painfully poring over for the past hour, “But I know you too well to expect you to actually do your homework, so what are you talking about?”
He didn’t mention that the real reason he never studied in your trig study sessions was because he was more often than not too busy staring at you and coming up with things to say to make you laugh.
Jess raised his eyebrows, but then shook his head and cleared his throat to do a godawful impression of you, “Oh Jess, I can’t believe you’ve never read it. My favourite novel in the whole world and you’ve never read it!”
You scoffed, “If that was supposed to be me, get out of here.”
“Please, like you really want to get rid of me,” he teased, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you, “Then you’d be miserable and heartbroken and, even worse, have to actually finish your trig homework. Besides, I enjoyed it.”
Your eyes brightened up at this, and you could tell he noticed, “Don’t look so surprised, Y/N. Your taste isn’t that bad… I mean, you hang out with me don’t you?”
“For some reason, yes,” you pretended to grumble, feigning ignorance of the butterflies in your stomach at his usual smug smile, “But you really liked it?”
He sat down in the seat opposite you now, pulling the book from his bag and slamming it down in front of you, “Well, I have notes of course.”
You rolled your eyes, at which he couldn’t help but laugh, “Hey, it wasn’t terrible. I did say I enjoyed it… Some of the notes are nice.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure.”
“You wound me,” Jess feigned a pout, “Romance isn’t usually my genre and you know that.”
“Of course. Hemingway fanboy is too cool for my sappy romantic books, huh,” you joked, heart still racing wildly at the notion he’d even started reading it, let alone finished it.
“Pfft. Austen fangirl should be less rude and give more Hemingway a try, I say,” he quipped back, tongue in cheek.
“Hey, I like Hemingway,” you shook your head, “I just don’t go to bed and jerk off over how great I think he is like you so obviously do.”
He shook his head and pulled a face that faked shock, “And how much time in the day, on average, would you say you spend thinking about what I jerk off over, huh?”
“You are such an ass,” you tutted, swatting his arm, “Approximately none, thank you very much.”
“Whatever you say, princess.”
“Anyway, if you’re done being gross, let’s get back to the important thing here. You read my book,” You reached to pull the book towards you, only for him to snatch it back and rest his elbows on it.
You furrowed your brows at him, “What’ve you got to hide in there?”
His eyes narrowed, his lip between his teeth now as though he was thinking hard about something.
“C’mon, Mariano,” you leaned forward, “I assumed that since you brought the book with you, I’d get to see at least some of your notes.”
His fingers were picking at the edges of the book’s cloth sleeve, his toes drumming on the floor anxiously like they’d recently begun to do more often when he was around you.
He heaved out a deep sigh, “Look. I’m going to give you this, and then I’m gonna leave the diner, alright? And then, and only then, you can open this book up, and you can read what’s in there. And if you never see me again it’s ’cause I’ve died of embarrassment or something. Got it?”
You rolled your eyes, chin on your palm.
He slid the book in your direction now as you watched him swallow thickly and cocked your head to the side like a curious puppy, “Ever so cryptic, aren’t you?”
“You’ll figure it out, Miss Marple.”
With that, he rose to his feet and darted out of the diner before you could even say another word.
You briefly made eye contact with Luke behind the counter, who watched you carefully for a moment before looking down at the book now carefully clutched between your fingers.
You wasted no time then, pulling open the book and desperately skimming for whatever the hell he was talking about.
You weren’t sure what on earth you expected to find when you flicked through its pages, but it most certainly wasn’t a plethora of sticky tabs with scrawled notes on about how the protagonist reminded him of you.
You expected even less, then, to find a note in Jess’ handwriting at the very back of the book declaring that he realised halfway through — when the two love interests whose relationship bore a crazy resemblance to your own, realised that they were in fact in love — that he’d been stupid to deny that he even liked you, let alone that he’d quite obviously fallen stupidly in love with you.
Shock coursed through you, your heart racing at the uncharacteristically romantic and yet somehow still so incredibly Jess gesture.
You stood up, almost knocking over your chair as you placed the book under your arm and turned to leave, “I’ll be back—uh, soon.”
Luke nodded, “Go get him kiddo.”
You smiled, butterflies whirling in your stomach as you left the diner almost as quickly as Jess had just minutes ago.
You knew exactly where you’d find him — perched on the bridge swinging his feet and letting his mind convince him you wouldn’t in a million years feel the same.
When he heard the sound of your footsteps approaching, you saw him clench his eyes shut as if in hope that he was imagining you and that you’d soon disappear.
“You can’t confess your love for me and then run away, Jess,” you bit your lip as you teased him softly, “It’s not fair not to give me a chance to say it back properly. You do get bonus points for how much of a romance novel cliché that move is, though.”
He sighed, a deep heavy sigh of relief, and it was as though suddenly he reverted to his usual self, “Technically the book confessed my love for you, actually. And the window for reciprocating hasn’t quite closed yet. I’m all ears, pretty girl.”
You loved this.
You loved how easy things always were for you with Jess.
Everything that went unspoken still never went unsaid — sure, you’d been flirtatious friends for a while now, uncertain of quite how seriously he reciprocated your feelings, but deep down you always sort of knew.
You loved that ever since he’d come to Stars Hollow, he’d shown that he cared in his own silly little ways.
And he loved you.
And you loved him.
You sat down at his side, still clutching the book tightly as he finally looked across at you with a small smile.
“You’re such a romantic, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you,” you nudged his side teasingly, “But I— Jess I do love you, and I’ve probably loved you for a long time even though I didn’t want to let myself admit it.”
“Wow, okay Mr Darcy… Wait ‘til Luke hears that the real reason you’ve only just told me that is because you think he’s embarrassing,” he mocked, but you felt him shuffle closer, “I’ve definitely loved you for longer than I thought I had too, if it makes you feel any better.”
“Much better, Miss Bennet,” you laughed, linking your arms and leaning against his shoulder as he pressed a small kiss to the top of your head.
You felt Jess’ chest rise and fall as you closed your eyes and let the sound of the stream beneath you wash over you.
“So, like, I don’t know the protocol with the whole ‘best friends to lovers’ trope like you do, so you’re gonna have to help me out here,” Jess chuckled.
You sat back up to look at him whilst still keeping hold of his arm, “Hmm, I think what’s meant to happen next is you kiss me and ask to take me on a real date. Pretty sure that’s right.”
“Right, everyone’s favourite cliche moment,” Jess rolled his eyes jokingly but cupped your face with his palms, “God, what have you done to me?”
“You looove me,” your response was muffled as he pressed his lips to yours to shut you up, at first gently and then with a touch more urgency.
When you pulled away, he let go of your face and smiled softly, “So about that date?”
“You got it, Mariano,” you grinned, kissing him quickly once more as you paused, “But you’re going to have a tough time doing anything as romantic as annotating my favourite book and writing me a love note, you know.”
He scoffed, “Oh I’ve got plenty more where that came from, Y/N.”
“Is that a threat?” you giggled, leaning back into his side.
“Just you wait and see.”
———
ok so i kinda lost my way with this a bit eventually and i’m sorry it’s quite short but i had sooooo much fun writing it. i love jess so fucking much and i’m so grateful for all the jess requests i get — trying v hard to work through them asap because it’s so fun.
thanks for reading! here’s my masterlist for more <3
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yelena-bellova · 9 months
Text
Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Twelve
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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.
———————
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