#time is passing us by i've got shit to do tomorrow

[golyadkin]

Dropped all the big drawings I was doing to draw this moment from Don't Let the Good Life Pass You By by @impossiblyizzy

#bro i'm so tired it's 2 am i've been drawing this for hours time for bed #bbc ghosts #smoking // #patcap #pat butcher #the captain ghosts #bbc ghosts captain #fanart #i know i'll wake up in the morning and look at this and hate it or wish i'd done more but babe #time is passing us by i've got shit to do tomorrow #anways thanks for writing a great fic izzy hope you don't mind some art for it #from a really exhausted artist #art tag

[keeksandgigz]

my guy

eddie munson x fem!reader

Eddie being your personal handyman and stupidly in love.

cw: 2k words. no warnings just two kids being absolutely smitten for each other. tooth rotting fluff. teeny allusion to smut. Eddie being a flustered mess bless him. 18+ mdni

AN: this is literally the most low stakes thing i've ever written i just started cheesing at the idea of eddie cheesing at being called your guy

The sputtering of the washing machine startles you.

Huffing, you put your book down on the couch, rising from the depth of the cushions in which you had settled yourself into after finishing your chores and go assess the issue.

"Shit," the floor is wet and you shudder at the feeling of the cold soapy water getting into the bottoms of your socks as you slowly make your way to the washing machine to unplug it.

You try your best to dry the floor, wincing at the feeling of wet socks on the linoleum floor, cursing under your breath at the cold feel of the fabric against your skin.

Despite the floor being dry, your washing machine was broken, and you couldn't afford to buy a new one. Fortunately, your neighbor, Eddie had been your own personal handyman ever since you mentioned in passing that your sink was leaking a bit after moving into your place a couple months ago. The day after he was at your door, toolbox in hand. Your sink was fixed in less than a couple hours.

You knock at his front door, three precise, well timed knocks. Your mind cannot help but start counting just to see how long it will take him to open his door.

One, two, three, four, five, si--

The rattling of the door handle distracts you from your counting. Eddie's eyes are wide as they stare at you. His hair is tied in a low bun and he's fidgeting with a guitar pick in his hand. He must have been playing.

He's really quiet for a second, then clears his throat. "Oh, um. Hey, what's up?"

"Hey, nothing much? just wondering if you're busy right now" your tone always softens up with him around.

He looks around his apartment, almost as if he needed to remember if there was anything he should've been doing.

"Nope, don't think so. Why?" He leans against his doorframe, and he's cute in the way his pitch perks up, his smile expands just a bit to let a few crinkles form around his eyes.

"Well um... my washing machine broke and I can't afford to buy another one. I have a really important interview tomorrow morning and I need a clean dress shirt to wear. I thought I could get my guy to take a look at it and assess the damage?" you lightly punch your fist across his chest and he blushes a bit. You can tell by the way he starts blinking a bit faster that he's flustered.

"Your- your guy?" he stutters, almost as if he heard nothing else aside from that.

"Yeah, silly. My guy, like, my handyman" you smile at him, and if someone could get even more nervous, you're sure that Eddie just did, because he lets out a breathy laugh.

"Right. Your handyman guy, of course" and he shakes his head, smiling to himself a bit.

"So... can you do it?" you ask, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, no of course, sweetheart. Gimme a couple minutes and I'll be right over to you" he says smiling.

You head back to your apartment, leaving the door open for him to follow you with his toolbox, and Eddie feels like he’s lost every sense of reason when he enters and becomes surrounded by your scent.

The fabric softener you use has taken over every corner of your house, but he’s not complaining. Taking one last sniff for courage, he steps into the kitchen, where you’re sitting at, waiting for him.

“Alright, can I take a look at your washing machine?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Yeah, it’s right this way” you lead him to the laundry room, and Eddie’s suffocating. You’re everywhere.

He kneels in front of the machine and opens its door.

"What's this interview for anyway if it's got you actin' so nervous?" He says from inside the washing machine. He's fidgeting with the rubber at the opening, the hose.

"It's for this job at the school. I applied to teach at the middle school, but I'm not sure if they'll give it to me" you say, panic settling in. He's taking too long, you're done for. No clean shirt, no job.

"Nah, sweetheart, there's no reason why they shouldn't. You're incredibly smart, from all the books I've seen you read, your apartment is all books, you nerd" he starts laughing, and then stops.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to call you a nerd." He takes his head out of the washing machine. "I just- I know you're gonna do great. And if you don't maybe you can become my apprentice, would you mind passing me my flashlight?" he gives you a half smile.

Reaching for his toolbox you pass it to him.

"See? You're already perfect for the job, you're hired" he says, making you laugh. He smiles proudly to himself, and he's happy that you can't see him from inside the washing machine, because he's sure he's bursting with joy at the sound of your laughter.

"Thanks, Ed. I'll consider it." you say, and immediately after you hear a oh shit! coming from inside the machine. Concern washes over your face.

"Ed? What's wrong?" you say, as you carefully step closer towards him.

“I know what the problem is." He takes his head out again The rubber thingy that helps you close the thingy is broken” he says, like you understood what he meant.

“For a handyman you sure have your way with words” you laugh, and he doesn’t even care that he’s made a fool of himself by forgetting what the rubber gasket was called. Because he’s made you laugh.

"So how do I get this rubber thingy fixed, mr handyman?" you ask, voice still amused at how flustered he is.

"Well, I'd need to go down the hardware store and get a replacement, but it's 8PM, so I can't do anything about it now, sweetheart. Sorry" he says, and it breaks his heart to have to say no to you.

"Oh, okay." your voice sounds sad, it hurts him. "Thanks anyway, Eddie. I'll stop by the hardware store tomorrow morning before my interview if you wanna stop by in the afternoon and finish this?"

He thinks about it, about the interview. About how much you said you want the job.

"Wait, I have an idea. What if you wash your clothes in my washing machine for tonight? So you can have your shirt ready for your interview, then tomorrow I can go and get the gaskets to fix it. It's called a gasket, not rubber thingy" he says, playing with his hair.

"Ed it's fine, I can go get it" you say, trying not to blush at how gentle and kind he is "I'll take you up on your offer of using your machine, though. Thanks, Ed. You're too nice" you say, reaching for the basket of wet clothes on top of the dishwasher.

"Anytime, sweetheart. Y'know I take good care of my clientele" he says, smug smile on his lips. You giggle and fake a gasp.

"Are you cheating on me? Are you being someone else's guy?!" he laughs and goes along with it.

"Well, Mrs. Davis did ask me to fix her bathtub, after learning from someone that I fixed their sink" he said, a fake accusatory stare at you.

"You should get paid for this, Ed. You've already fixed my sink, my door hinges, helped me change my lock and now my washing machine. Soon the whole complex is gonna ask you to do their maintenance" you laugh.

"I do it out of the kindness of my heart" he says, taking a dramatic bow , then rises and leans against the washing machine. "Really, though, I don't mind doing it. I enjoy being helpful. I don't want your money, sweetheart"

"No, Eddie, I insist. I need to pay you, especially after you said you're getting the rubber thingy for me, what was it called again? A gusset?"

"Gasket" he says smiling, pointing a cheeky finger at you. Then the air becomes a bit tense, he stiffens up. You see him takes a deep breath, he's suddenly nervous which puts you on edge. Did you say something wrong? Then he speaks up again. "Tell you what, as a payment for my services, I pick you up Friday night at 7 and we have dinner. What do you say?"

Shit. You would not have pegged him for the type to be that smooth, but he had you. He liked you and he was sweet to you and he wanted to take you out to dinner. It helped that he was cute. There was no hesitation when you nodded your head yes.

"I say that's a great idea, Ed. I'll let you know how the interview goes. Should we go to your apartment?" you say. You notice the quizzical, borderline alarmed, look on his face.

"So I can wash my stuff, I mean" an awkward laugh escapes you as he motions for you to lead the way.

His apartment is the same layout as yours, but rather than books, his walls are filled with painted figurines, guitars, notebooks and DnD game sets. A true nerdy den.

"Um, the washing machine is down the hall. We have the same one, let me know if you need anything, okay?" he says, heading over to the couch, setting his toolbox down and picking up his guitar.

His laundry detergent is strong. The thought of this load of washing smelling like him makes your head spin.

After you've started the load, you head out of the laundry room and head over to the couch, where Eddie is. You swear his eyes glint a little when he sees you.

"Hey mr. handyman." you say, plopping down next to him "Keep playing, I'm just gonna watch you." You smile at him.

His face is concentrated, tongue darting out of his lips every once in a while. Cute, you think, a silly quirk that makes your mind travel to places that it should not even dare to go, you haven't even had your first date yet. God, you wanna kiss him.

He plays some aggressive guitar chords, one after the other, music sheets scattered on his knee, balancing precariously as he taps the rhythm with his head, his hair falling out of its confinements with each bob of his head.

"I hear you play sometimes." You interrupt. He raises his head, his hair has all fallen out of the bun and lays on his shoulders.

"What?" he says weakly.

"Sometimes, in the afternoon, because you're so respectful, I hear you play. And I- I just stop whatever I'm doing and listen to you and- and it's so cool. Your playing is so cool" you stop your ramble, because now he's staring at you and he's making you nervous. He's closer, and closer, and closer. And he's kissing you.

His lips are soft, albeit a bit too wet from all the times he's licked his lips to focus. His hand is on your cheek and it's big and warm and his breath is on you and you just melt into him. Soft kisses, quick kisses.

After what feels like hours, your mouth is open and you're reaching for his shirt, but he stops you, a puzzled look on your face. "Let's save this for another time, sweetheart." He says, and you can tell he's struggling to say no to you "I wanna take my time with you. Maybe after our date?" he gives you a sly smile and you think you have melted into the cushions.

"Can we cuddle, then?" you say shyly and he opens his arms for you to fall in, you take a deep breath. He's warm and smells nice.

"For a handyman you kiss really well" you say, laughing a bit. He jerks his head and quirks an eyebrow.

"How many handymen have you kissed?" his tone is dramatic and you know he's joking.

"None that I am aware of, but y'know, it could be a side job" You giggle.

"I thought I was your guy!" He says with a whine, and he makes you laugh like no man has ever made you laugh before.

“Maybe you can be my guy for real then” you say, smiling, finally holding eye contact with him.

“Yeah, I can be your guy, sweetheart.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut

[thebearer]

could you do a subtle (maybe teering on mid/heavy) dominance with carm and they’re getting ready for bed ? ( you don’t have to do getting ready for bed it just the first thing that came to mind) anyways thanks in advance !!



You walked through the door, shedding your clothes with each step. "I can not fucking wait to get in this bed, and I swear to God I'm not leaving it all day tomorrow." You huffed, flinging a shoe then the other towards the closet door.

Carmen snorted lightly, setting down his phone to look at you. "Yeah? Sounds good t'me, baby. You know I won't stop you." He grinned, lazy and sweet, your chest feeling with warmth.

You rolled your eyes lightly, bending over to shimmy out of your jeans. Carmen's eyes were trained on you, tongue running over his bottom lip. "Was the dinner that bad?" He asked. He got his answer with how hard you flung the jeans towards the hamper.

"The worst, Carm." You huffed, falling dramatically on the bed beside him. "I don't understand what the purpose of a work dinner even is. We didn't even fucking work, and the food was so disgusting, I couldn't even eat it-"

"-Hold on." Carmen held up his hand, eyes cutting to you. "You didn't eat? You didn't eat at all?"

You huffed, an eye roll of a sigh that had Carmen's brow raising at you. "No, Carmy, I didn't eat. It was disgusting. I couldn't even fake it. Plus, with how much Tonya was talking, I didn't really get a chance."

"Baby, that's not..." Carmen was already rolling out of bed.

"Carmen." You groaned, rolling over to the other side of the bed. "I'm fine. I'll be alright."

"You're hungry." Carmen insisted, one look at you and he could see the way you paused, just a passing second, but it was enough for him to know he was right. "What do you want to eat, huh? I've got a left over sandwich in the fridge or-or I can make you somethin'."

"I'll be fine, Carmy, please." You whined, pushing up on your arms to watch him pad down the hall. "Come back to bed. I just wanna sleep."

"I'm not letting you go to bed on an empty stomach. I know you haven't eaten shit since this morning," True. "And I know you didn't drink any water today, and you'll wake up all sad and sick tomorrow and be in a terrible fuckin' mood." Also true. Carmen knew it, the finality of his voice told you that.

"I will not." You pouted, crossing your arms over your bare chest.

"I'm not arguin' with you about this." Carmen's tone was firm- final. It sent chills down your spine, thighs pressing together. "So what did Tonya talk about?"

"Her kids. One wants to be a chef and she was asking me pointers, like I would know." You rolled your eyes, shimmying your body half off the bed to grab one of Carmen's shirts- your favorite one to sleep in, slipping it over your body.

"Tell her to tell them to not fuckin' do it, that's my advice." Carmen muttered, a plate clattering on the counter.

You could feel the guilt settling in your tummy, in a deep pit that had you fidgeting. The guilt of Carmen taking care of you, when you'd been to careless to do it yourself. You knew he didn't mind but it still made you feel a little uneasy, even when he brought the sandwich in, glass of water in his free hand.

"You really didn't have to do that, Carmy. I was fine." You muttered, looking at the plate in front of you.

"Stop." Carmen shook his head at you. "Eat, alright? Don't need to be goin' all day without eatin'. You know that."

"I could afford to miss a meal, I promise. I'd be alright." Though your tone was teasing, playing on the edge of a joke, Carmen found it anything but funny.

"What did you just say?" Carmen's eyes were hard, cutting like his tone. You paused, looking at him carefully. It was a tone he rarely used, saved it for the kitchen. Only bringing it out on times when he was really upset.

"I was just-"

"Don't you ever let me hear you say some shit like that again, you hear me?" Carmen's jaw flexed, shaking his head at you. You could feel the warmth spreading from your cheeks to your chest. Embarrassment? Maybe at being chastised like that. But judging by the dull ache between your legs, you knew it was probably something else.

"Eat your food." Carmen nodded, still firm but with a softer edge this time.

You didn't argue, his tone was final, you were hungry, and, fuck, was that sandwich good. A classic Italian sub with a positively Carmy twist on it. Carmen waited until you finished your water- after having to remind you to finish it with so much as a sigh and a "there's that much left, just drink it f'me please?"- pulling you under the covers with him to listen to the rest of your dinner.

You felt better. Soured attitude dissipated and the dull headache forming behind your eyes was gone, no longer thudding with every beat of your heart.

#thebearerblurbs #thebearer #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #carmy smut #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you

[luneaticlab]

AMORE (Chapter 1)

Pairing - CEO!Jungkook x Secretary!reader (female)

synopsis- Never in a million years you thought you'd end up with your boss, in bed.

Word count- 1.4k

IMPORTANT NOTE - Hey guys, this my first fic. I promise I'll improve. love and feedback are always welcomed.

•I do not own any of the pictures•

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

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"come again?"

hesitantly, you repeated the words you said to your bestfriend a few seconds ago "The last time i got laid was 13 months ago..?"

"Girl, are you fucking serious?" Lena, your bestfriend not-so-aggresively threw her hands in the air.

"What's wrong with it? You know i'm not the type to have one night stands and shit" you justified defensively, delicately caressing your 5 month old persian cat, fluff.

"Dude you are in your twenties, you are hot, rich and single, what's wrong with having some fun before you settle down?" all you did was roll your eyes, ready to nag her about hygiene during sex.

"Don't tell me you still have a crush on your jackass boss" alice appeared from your kitchen, a cup of hot choco keeping her hands warm.

you were taken aback, yes, you did have a crush on your not-so-jackass boss, maybe you still do, no one knows, you are too busy with work to think about that. But something about him just makes your thighs clench.

His thick thighs which you would die to sit on, his tiddies who always threaten to come out(thanks to the buttons which do not let them), and his freaking jawline which you want to hold so bad when he kisses you.

Just to be clear the chances of this happening is 0.01% .

He's the typical rich, young, hot bachelor desired by multiple women and owned by none. Somehow you always managed to keep a very professional relationship with him so far. But what's life without some thrill?

"Jeon jeongguk? go ahead , have sex with him then. A rich man is a rich man" Lena suggests as if she's telling you to pick out some roses from the neighbour's garden.

"sure, find me a now job by tomorrow then" Lena chuckles at your reponse.

"Girl, its not that hard, he's a man and he might have needs too, if you really want him on the top then maybe wear some sexy clothes at work, you guys see each other everyday"

"Yeah yeah i'll think about it" you shrugged off the topic, not wanting to discuss it further.

:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。

"fuck!" You finally found your release , turned the vibrator off, took a shower, slouched on your bed releasing a lazy sigh

Yes ,the vibrator did wonders when you got it for the first time, but you've become too used to it, you knew you needed more and by more you meant jungkook's dic-

you pushed your sinful thoughts out of the way and forced yourself to sleep.

:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:

next day , 7.39 a.m

You got out of the shower, fresh and clean. Done with the skincare and your usual makeup (nude lips are mandatory!) .you were about to pick your grey sweatshirt, Lena's words resonating in your ears.

Fuck it, it's now or never.

you put the sweatshirt right where it belonged. Took out a white tube top which covered half of your tits, wore a black trouser matching with the blazer of the same colour of the trouser. A black nano belt bag from celine completing your look. Quickly wearing your jimmy choo high heels, you stepped out of your apartment, you felt confident.

You were aware of the stares you were getting at the office, you weren't surprised, not your fault you look good with a minimum effort.

You spot your coworker Diana at the cafeteria, she waves at you , her look telling you that she's got something for you

"Hey y/n, I've completed the list of the guests we are going to invite at the company's gala, Do you mind passing it to Mr.Jeon? I got some last minute work to do." She asked holding your hand

Bingo

"Sure, why not , I was about to give him his espresso anyway." you smile at her politely before taking the file.

Quickly making your way upstairs, you fic your hair before you knock his door.

'"Come in"

"Good morning Mister Jeon, the list for the guests for our company's gala dinner has been finalized." You said as you placed his espresso and the file on his table.

He looked up to see you, "Alright, thank you y/n, I hope you didn't forget we have to go to daegu today."

You caught him stealing a glance at your chest.

"Ofcourse sir" you smiled curtly before leaving his office, swaying your hips on purpose while doing so.

Jeongguk and you had to go to Daegu today for the monthly inspection of the company's factory there.

Being Jeongguk's secretary was undeniably challenging, but the salary was enough motivation to continue doing your job.

・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜

3.39 p.m

"Mister Jeon, we are ready to leave." You said as you peeked out your head from the door into his office.

He nodded while fixing his blue Ralph Lauren coat as he walked past you , you followed him behind, making sure everything is on the right place.

You looked at him from behind, good Lord he was so damn hot then you looked at yourself. You guys would make such a power couple in your opinion.

"Did you have lunch sir?" You asked knowing he might not have eaten given the fact that he absorbs himself too much in his work once he starts.

"I didn't have time to"

"I figured, I ordered chipotle for you, will you be okay with a burrito bowl ?" Jungkook liked having light meals on work days and he gets carsick easily so chipotle was the best option.

"Yes, thank you y/n i appreciate it." He said gratefully, flashing you a small smile which you could write a whole thesis on.

----------------------------------------------------------

You were driving the car and the ride was smooth, you guys talked about work related stuff. Until,

"How have you been lately, y/n?" Jeongguk asked out of nowhere.you glanced at him for a second before replying "I've been good, pretty much the same since 2 years. working on weekdays, staying at home on the weekends. Oh, and I've got a new roommate – a furry one. Adopted a cat a few months back. It's nice having someone waiting for me at home, you know?"

You have no idea why you are giving a detailed explanation instead of the typical 'I'm doing good' but it is what it is.

"Any special someone in the picture?" He asked, a hint of uncertainty laced in his voice.

You glance at him again in surprise before refocusing on the road, this guy is really picking his moments. "No special someone right now sir, how about you?" He started this.

He chuckled a little,"Not at the moment, not into relationships anyway."

well damn, at least it was worth the try.

You catch jungkook looking at you a lot of times during the ride.

"We have reached, sir." You both get out of the car and head towards the factory.

----------------------------------------------------------

7:51 p.m, Daegu.

It was pouring cats and dogs.

"I think we should book a hotel and stay there for the night". Jungkook suggested while looking up. All of the workers were leaving and driving in this crazy rain is dangerous.

"But i don't have any spare clothes."

"Should we buy them on the way?" Jungkook asked finally looking at you.

"I think we should."

----------------------------------------------------------

You guys found the nearest hotel, and went to your respective rooms.Jungkook chose a package of 1 night+ dinner because you guys didn't eat anything after lunch.

"Let us change then meet at the dinner hall yeah?" Jungkook said looking at you, your clothes were a little drenched, the droplets on your half-exposed boobs were visible and he can see your bra underneath the white tube top.

"Sure , sir"

You guys literally shoved your faces in the food because the meal was ten out of ten and ya'll were hungry as hell.

When you entered the elevator, jungkook looked at you for a second before speaking " Good day today"

You smiled at him. Damn that smile, he couldn't control himself , he brought his face closer to yours, literally a gap of 2 centimeters between. "Can I kiss you?" He asked , it came like a whisper.

"Please" You practically whimpered.

Just like that, his lips were on yours.

To be continued

#jungkook bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

[badingsm]

hai! can you write a g!p/intersex nat big age gap

Warnings: Cursing, age gap, office romance, slightly mean Nat, intersex (but it will only come soon!), no hate towards Sharon :)

Hi Anon! It's going to be a miniseries again because The Proposal is my all-time favorite romcom (love SANDY B!) and it's kind of fitting anyway. Nat is in her early 40s and the reader's mid-20s, okay? I think Sands was 45 in that movie.

"Shit, shit, shit-"

You muttered underneath your breath as you tried to slip past the crowd.

Your alarm clock rang on time, but your body didn't wake up on time, and now you were in a rush to get your boss's coffee because, if not, she'd chew you down with her endless words filled with anger and more.

"Y/n! Hey!" Athena called you over the line, and you sighed in relief. "Here you go! Your regular lattes."

"Thank you, thank you! You saved my life!" You grinned sweetly towards the other woman with whom you've shared a special bond because of the times that she has saved you from getting the tardiness talk with your punctual boss. You then rushed to the traffic, mingling with the cars, to cross over the street to go and enter your building. Thankfully, just as the doors of the elevator were about to close, you ended up entering just in time. You turned your head, panting, to your co-worker beside you. "Are you okay there, buddy?"

He nodded shortly and said, "Yes."

"Yeah, me too!" You smiled.

The ride in the elevator was quiet, but you felt relieved when you realized that you were four minutes earlier than your boss. The doors soon opened, and just as you were rushing through your boss's office, you suddenly collided with the janitor named Fred, causing the one cup of coffee to spill all over your clothes.

"Sweet jesus!"

"I'm so sorry!" He apologized profusely, and you didn't have the heart to get mad because he's a good man.

But still.

You've got a soaking button-up blouse, making you rush towards your friend's corner to borrow hers because you know you'll be sitting on an hour and a half lecture about your dirty clothes at work.

And nobody wants that.

"I've got Taylor Swift Eras Tour tickets, VIPs, and I need a shirt in 5.. 4.. 3.. 2.."

"Morning hassle?" Kate chuckled lowly, already removing her suit jacket to go change with you in the corner.

"Thanks!" You breathed out, grabbing one of the coffee cups before rushing towards the witch's office because you'd already heard the loud clacking noises of her annoying stilettos. "Morning, boss. You have a conference meeting in 30 minutes."

"Yes. The one with the team where we'll talk about their useless opinions because they're just all words and no action, I know."

"Briefing with Director Fury by 9 o'clock."

"Did you call the one with the—the ugly attitude like her?"

"Sharon." You nodded. "I told her she'd be fired if she didn't pass her files by 4. The immigration also called-"

"Cancel the call. Push the meeting to tomorrow. Keep the lawyer on the sheets," Natasha mumbled while typing aggressively on her keyboard. "You should know our priorities by now."

Just as you were about to respond, the phone rang loudly, causing you to jog over the table to go and pick it up.

"Miss Romanoff's office." You greeted through the phone, "Yes, Director, you're calling us in your office—and we're on our way." You answered when you saw Natasha's signal. "Yes. We'll be there in 5. Thank you."

"Go grab the document that I told you to finish a few days ago," Natasha instructed with her monotone voice while she grabbed her coffee and turned around. You were about to do as she said when suddenly, you heard Natasha speak again, "Um, who's Athena, and why does she want me to call her?"

You turned around, grimacing when you saw her raised brows, holding the cup of coffee with some written phone number. "Well, that was originally my cup."

She squinted her eyes. "And I'm drinking your coffee, why?"

"Because your coffee spilled." You watch her take a sip slowly.

"So you drink unsweetened cinnamon-light soy lattes?" Natasha questioned carefully. You could practically feel the sharpness of her jawbone as she looked at you through those dangerous eyes of hers.

"I do," You replied, biting your inner cheeks. "It's like Christmas in a cup."

"Christmas in a cup, my ass."

-

"Excuse me, gentlemen." You knocked against the hardwood door just as instructed and practiced. "Miss Foster's calling over the phone unstoppably, and I keep telling her you're otherwise engaged with some-"

Natasha signaled you sharply to come inside the room after she looked at you weirdly for a good while, as if some light bulb had just snapped inside her head, and you reluctantly agreed, even if it was against your will.

"Gentlemen," Natasha started with her sickly sweet smile that you know, even from a distance, is a fake one of hers, but she's always good at covering it up. "I understand the predicament that we are in. The thing about my deportation is kind of—and this might come as a surprise, but I assure you, no deportation will happen because well, Y/n and I—are, um, getting married.." You suddenly felt dizzy when those words were let out of her mouth. "Yes, you heard it right. We're getting married."

"Who's getting married?" Ross questioned with his white hair, chin-filled beard, and sarcastic look.

"Oh, you know, Y/n and I," Natasha answered with ease, even though you felt your whole world thicken with tension. "Just like your former assistant, Miranda—whom you fired because your wife found out about your affair," Your boss smirked when she finally got the upper hand again. "Y/n and I... we weren't meant to fall in love, but we did, and now we're getting married."

"Who's...?" You couldn't even utter a sentence because you stood there, completely dumbfounded. You were bombarded with this conversation that you had never even once in your life imagined happening. "Who's getting married...?"

"You and I." Natasha pinched your side so as not to make the others see. "Are getting married."

Cruel. Witch.

You blinked owlishly and repeated, "You and I are..."

"You and I are getting married, baby." Natasha awkwardly hugged you, patting your back while you coughed silently with the force that her palm had carried. "We're getting married soon, my love."

"Wow." You fishmouthed, your brain running through a million miles while your mouth stayed rooted in its agape. "You... you and I are getting married?"

"Yes." She faced the director, who's been eerily silent ever since you've entered. "So, are we good here? Is there anything else?"

"Um," Ross cleared his throat loudly, "Just make it official, Miss Romanoff."

"Right!" Natasha nodded. "Wedding rings. Ceremonies. Got it. Of course."

"Mm, congratulations on the engagement, though."

"Thanks, Directors." Natasha briefly bid her goodbyes, and then you and her were off to go.

You followed her silently from behind, already hearing the defeaning murmurs of your co-workers, and you were already sweating profusely as you followed and shut the door behind the both of you.

Natasha sat through her paperwork, signing here and there like she hadn't just set your whole world upside down with her (not so) little announcement.

"Um, excuse me, were you not there?" You scoffed sarcastically, your jaw clenching while your fists shook uncomfortably against your sweaty palm. "What happened in there?"

"What?" Natasha raised her brow.

"Wedding? Marriage?" You whisper-shouted. "What the hell?!"

"Believe me, this will benefit you tremendously too," She replied, giving you a silent eye roll that you didn't fail to see because your eyes were trained against her. "If anything, you should be thanking me."

"Do explain."

"Well, for one, if I'm getting deported, you'll be automatically moved or fired, and I guarantee you, it will be the latter, and I know you don't want that." Natasha finally looked up from her paperworks; she stopped everything that she's doing as you stood there having an intense staring contest with her. "Don't you?" She scoffed, lolwly mumbling, "And it's not like you're saving yourself for somebody else."

"Well, I'd like to think so." With gritted teeth, you shook your head from side to side and answered, "No."

"Exactly. So, now, we're getting married." She uttered like it was the easiest and most normal thing in the world, "Schedule a meeting with the immigration department so everything will fall into place, yeah?"

Yeah, no..

Because really..

What the hell is going on?!

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #soft natasha romanoff #marvel #marvel imagines #natasha romanoff au #the proposal 2009

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 1

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

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AIRIELLEJONES

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AirielleJones: Friday Nights just got 100 times hotter ❤️

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aliyahwwe: congrats bby i'll miss u 😢

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AirielleJones: ew blocked. we don't do that here

`shotziwwe: noooo please don't leave us 😭

SEPTEMBER 4th 2020

Airielle Jones smiled to herself as she looked around the backstage area. After working her ass off for two years down at NXT she was finally getting an opportunity to showcase her talents on the main roster. 

“Airielle?��� She looked over when she heard her name being called. “I’m Kayla. Nice to meet you.” Kayla said, shaking Airielle’s hand. 

“Nice to meet you too.” 

“So Paul said you can shadow me for the day and tomorrow you’ll do Talking Smack with me.” Airielle didn’t think it was possible for her smile to get any bigger. 

“Oh wow. Hopefully I won’t be in your way.” She said and Kayla waved her off. 

“Don’t worry about it. Come on, follow me.” Kayla had Airielle follow her around backstage, introducing her to passing superstars and upper management that Airielle had yet to meet. 

“So I have a segment to film with Sheamus and then one with Jey Uso at the end of the night. Have you met either of them yet?”Kayla said as A.J Styles just walked away from them and  Airelle shook her head. 

“No, I've met his twin though. I’m good friends with his wife.” 

“Oh. You know Trin?” Airielle nodded. “How?” 

“We go to the same hair salon in Pensacola.” 

“Oh wow, Small world.” Kayla said and beckoned Airielle to follow her. 

Airielle watched in awe as Kayla recorded her segment with Sheamus. She couldn’t wait until she was able to do what she loved. 

“Hey kid.” She smiled at Hunter when he walked over to her. 

“Hi. Mr Levesque.” She said, shaking his hand in greeting. 

“Please call me Paul. How you like the main roster?” He gestured around and Airielle nodded with a nervous chuckle. 

“It’s awesome. Gonna take some getting used to thought.” She said and he laughed, giving her a pat on the back. 

“You’re gonna do great, kid.” He said giving her one last smile before walking away. 

Kayla led Airielle around backstage showing her around the Amway Center when they bumped into Jey Uso. 

“Oh, hey Jey,. This is Airielle, Airielle this is Jey.” Kayla said and Airielle held her hand out. 

“Nice to meet you Jey.” She said, smiling at him. Josh was hooked, instantly. The second she smiled at him he was a goner. He realized he must’ve been staring at her because she slowly put her hand down, arched an eyebrow at him and turned her head to look at Kayla. 

“Shit, I zoned out. My bad.” He said, clearing his throat and giving them an awkward laugh “I’m Josh.” He said and she laughed. 

“Nice to meet you.” She said again waving bye and she and Kayla started to walk away from him. Josh groaned to himself as he watched her walk away. She was definitely gonna be trouble. 

Airielle and Kayla were sitting in The Gorilla position, watching the main event of the show when Paul walked over to them. 

“Hey kid, you got the post match.” He said to Airielle and her eyes widened. Paul laughed at the look on her face. “You don’t mind right?” He asked Kayla and she shook her head no. 

“Absolutely not. I’ll help her get ready.” She said and Paul nodded. 

“Good Luck,” he said giving her a thumbs up  before walking off. 

It was almost time for Airielle to go out and do the post match interview. There weren’t any fans but she was still nervous. 

Kayla sensed her nervousness and grabbed her hand giving it a squeeze. “Girl, you got this, don't worry.” Airielle nodded and followed a stage hand to the side entrance of the ramp. Airielle watched as Jey- Josh hit the uso splash and pinned Matt Riddle for the 3-count.  She and Josh made eye contact as she made her way into the ring. 

“Congratulations Jey.” She said smiling. “You have earned your opportunity for the universal championship against your cousin Roman Reigns, at Clash of Champions. How important was this victory for you?” She held the microphone close to him so he could answer. 

Josh looked at her and his mind went blank. He blinked trying to refocus himself. He said the only thing that came to mind.  “Yes, sir!” He yelled out twice. “Hey big dog! I made the family proud, too. But guess what, Roman Reigns its locked down! Welcome…. You know the rest.” He said winking at her as his theme music played. 

“You did good.” Kayla said, hugging her. “Sorry I'm a hugger.” Kayla said as she pulled away from Airielle. 

“It’s okay and thank you. I don’t know why I was so nervous.” 

“Girl, you were a natural out there. So um, we film "Talking Smack" tomorrow morning nine am sharp. Meet me in the underground parking lot at eight.” Airielle nodded and gave Kayla one last hug before walking out of the arena and towards her rental. 

SEPTEMBER 5th 2020

Airielle rushed towards Kayla. “I’m sorry I’m late.” It was 8:30 am. “I’m still getting used to being up this early.” 

“It’s only thirty minutes. You’re good.” Kayla said and motioned for Airielle to follow her into the arena. “Woods is joining us today. Have you met him?” Airielle nodded. “Cool, we have Shinsuke, Cesaro, Alexa and Jey as guests today.” Airielle nodded again and continued to listen to Kayla as she went over how the show was going to happen. 

“Oh hey, Airielle’s here.” Xavier Woods said, causing Josh to look up from his phone and towards Airielle and Kayla. “Have you met her yet?” Josh groaned and nodded. 

“Yeah, made a complete ass outta myself.” He said, sucking his teeth when Woods started laughing at him. “It ain't funny Uce. I felt like an idiot just standing staring at her.” He rolled his eyes and pushed Woods away from him when he continued to laugh. “I’ll see you later.” Josh said, flipping Woods off as he walked away.

Airielle felt at home as she talked with Kayla, Woods, and Alexa during the Talking Smack taping. She felt like she actually belonged. Alexa had just left the panel and it was time to bring Josh in. 

“Well we have one more guest to join us right now.” She said looking between Kayla and Woods. 

“Right and I’ve used the word easy, but you know what’s not easy.” Kayla chimed in. “When you have to go head-on with family and that's what this guy will be doing come-” She was cut off as Josh came into the shot spraying the three of them with silly string. 

Airielle laughed as Woods started yelling about the string getting stuck in his hair. She started to pull the string out of her hair as Kayla started to talk about what happened the night before on Smackdown. She noticed that Josh was trying his hardest to not look in her direction and frowned before she remembered that she was on camera and plastered a smile on her face. She zoned back into the conversation when it was her turn to talk. 

“So let's say you go on the clash of champions and you become our new universal champion.” Airielle started and Josh felt his heart start to beat faster at the sound of her voice. “What’s your plan?” Their eyes met for the first time that day  and once again Josh was stuck. All thoughts flew out of his head. He snapped back once Woods kicked his leg under the table. He ignored the weird looks Kayla and Woods were giving him and answered Airielle’s question. 

“Real talk I can’t even rap that around my head. I aint never looked at me as no, real talk I ain't never thought about the big title. Never thought about a IC title, US title. It was always tryna chase yall.” He said pointing towards Woods. “It was always about beating y’alls record. I love the New Day. It was always eyes on the tag team titles. But now it’s like oh.” He stopped and smiled. “I can do it, you know.” 

She watched as he talked about how much winning the title would mean to him and she couldn’t help but smile, he was so passionate about wrestling, it was adorable to see. 

“That was so much fun.” Airielle said to Kayla once filming was done. Wood and Josh said goodbye before leaving Airielle and Kayla still sitting at the table. 

“Yeah, it was.” Kayla said with a frown on her face. 

“Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?” Kayla looked over at Airielle and placed her hands overtop of hers. 

“No, you were fantastic. It’s just..” She paused and looked around before sliding her chair closer to Airielle. “Can you keep a secret?” Airielle leaned closer to Kayla and nodded. 

“Did Josh seem off to you? I mean I know you just met him, but..” Kayla sighed. Airielle shrugged, 

“I mean, maybe he was nervous about something. Is.. is he your boyfriend?” 

“No, I mean we.. you know, and went on some dates but we haven’t made anything official. We’re keeping it on the low.” Airielle nodded but she didn’t know what to say. She was slightly disappointed because she found Josh to be extremely attractive but it didn’t matter because she had promised herself  that she would not jeopardize her job for a quick fuck with one of these superstars. 

Clash Of Champions 2020

AIRIELLEJONES

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AirielleJones: Siri, play Beyoncé "Freakum Dress"

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user: 🥵

yasmine_jones: yasss! step on they fuvkin necks 😍

user: she just keeps blessing the TL

Airielle had been on the main roster for about 4 weeks now and she honestly couldn’t have been any happier. Sure she missed some of her friends from NXT but being on Smackdown had opened up way more opportunities for her than being on NXT. 

She was walking towards catering when she heard someone call out her name. She smiled when she saw that it was Kayla who called her name. She walked over and was immediately pulled into a hug. 

“First PLE. Are you excited?” Kayla asked and Airielle nodded with a nervous chuckle. She was about to respond when someone else called her name. 

“Airielle?! I missed you” Airielle smiled brightly at Trinity and rushed over to give her a hug. “Damn, look at you. I gotta come raid ya closet girl. “ 

Josh was walking around the arena with Jon looking for Trinity. 

“What the point of having a damn phone if she ain’t gon’ answer it.” Jon grumbled as he pressed Trinity’s name on his phone again, cursing her when her voicemail picked up again. “Why you so quiet Josh? You nervous?” 

“Hell yeah I'm nervous. I aint never have a opportunity like this before Uce. What if I screw it up.” 

“Man shut up.” He said, laughing when Josh stopped walking and glared at him. 

“What-” 

“Shut up. You and big uce gon go out there and kill it. Stop worrying.”  Josh nodded and took a deep breath. “You got this Uce.”  Jon said as he pulled his brother into a hug.  “Now help me find my wife.” 

They started walking again towards catering. That was the only place left to check. Jon cursed as he bumped into his brother almost knocking himself over. “Damn, what the f-” 

“I found her.” Josh said lowly nodding his head over to where Trinity was standing, talking to Airielle and Kayla. Jon started to limp his way over but stopped when he noticed his brother wasn't following him. 

“You coming?”  Josh shook his head, 

“Nah, imma stay right here.” He said ignoring the look his twin was giving him. “I just don’t want to go over there.” He said avoiding his brother's eyes. 

“Josh, stop playing and come on.” Jon rolled his eyes when Josh didn’t move. He hobbled over to his wife. “TRIN!” He yelled. She jumped, turning to face him. “Why you not answering ya phone man.” He said, rolling his eyes at her. “Sup Kayla.” He said fist bumping her and turned his attention to Airielle. “Oh shit. I know you.” He said, causing her to laugh. 

“Hi, Jon. Nice to see you again.” She said, smiling at him. 

“I thought you were with Josh?” Trin asked and Jon nodded and pointed behind him where Josh was waiting down the hall. 

“I was, he acting weird.” All the girls looked down the hall towards Josh whose eyes widened when he saw them looking at him. Airielle looked at Kayla out of the corner of her eye and saw that she was now looking down at her heels with a sad look on her face. 

I’ll see y’all later. Don’t forget to text me when you get back to Pensacola.” Trinity told Airielle. 

“Hey you okay?” Airielle asked once Trin and Jon walked away from them. Kayla shrugged. 

“I mean.” She sighed. “He’s been ignoring me. He won’t tell me what’s going on.” 

“Well honestly fuck him. If he’s ghosting you it’s his loss.” She said, pulling Kayla into a hug. 

Josh, Jon and Trinity were now in Joe’s locker room, as Josh and Joe got ready for the show. 

“Is everything okay with you and Kayla?” Trin asked once Josh sat down on the couch next to her. Josh arched his eyebrow and shrugged. 

“Yeah why?”  

“She was the reason why you didn’t come over earlier with Jon right?” She narrowed her eyes at him when he avoided her eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. 

“Josh..” 

Josh cleared his throat and shrugged. “Yeah, me and Kay cool. I mean we not together though but..” He shrugged again, trailing off. Trinity studied him then let out a gasp. 

“What about Airielle?” She asked and he choked on the water he was sipping. 

“What happened?” Josh rolled his eyes and sunk lower into the couch. 

“Nothing happened, he just made an ass outta himself.” Joe said, overhearing their conversation. Josh sucked his teeth and glared over at his older cousin. “You ain’t see talking smack from a couple weeks ago? Man was stuck the second she started talking to him.”

“Josh got a crush.”

“I’m a grown ass man, I ain’t got no damn crush.” He said, rolling his eyes when they all laughed at him. 

First chapter of the rewrite. I hope you guys like it

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso imagine #jey uso x black reader #main event jey uso #jey uso smut #jey uso x reader #jey uso fluff #jey uso one shot #jey uso fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe x black reader #black reader #the usos

[nolita-fairytale]

make my heart surrender | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter three: thursday

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, angst, use of she/her pronouns, allusions to sex, eventual smut, no use of y/n, second person pov, mentions of death/mikey's suicide

word count: 3.4k

summary: you and carmy finally find some time to catch up and carmy begins to realize that you're more similar than he thinks.

a/n: thank you to all who are reading, reblogging, and commenting omg. i'm so grateful that someone wanted to read this story. i wrote it in a week because i couldn't get these two out of my head. they were begging to be put on the page. i also have a companion playlist that i'll release when the story is done because i don't want to spoil anything! comment below if you'd like to be added to this story's taglist. i did presumptuously add a few of you i've interacted with, so please let me know if you'd also like to be taken off of it.

read: part two | masterlist

Thursday

You’re grateful that by day three, you’d been able to smooth over some of the tension between you and Carmy. You even looked forward to catching up with him, if the two of you can swing it. Instead of going home early, you had jumped on the line this evening. Ebra was out for the night and Marcus had asked to fly solo on prep so that you could give him some feedback before lunch service tomorrow morning. 

It was an easy decision, to fill in and jump on the line. After all, you had checked your bag on the plane so that you could bring your knife roll with you, just in case. There was something about this kitchen – the energy and the people – that you wanted to stick around for. And it didn’t hurt that you got to spend a little extra time with Carmy. When he was in his element, expediting and leading this kitchen… he was… breathtaking. 

“Damn, nice knife, Jeff” Tina comments, checking out the santoku you’re running through some parsley. She can hear the crisp, clean cuts you're making, which is what caught her attention in the first place.

“Jeff?” you question, shooting her a look. 

“Long story, but trust me. It’s a term of endearment,” Sydney interjects, from her side of the prep station. 

You chuckle, “She’s a beauty alright. My first fully Japanese knife. Though the steel is a bitch to take care of. That’s for sure.”

“What do you mean?” Tina questions further. 

“Well, it’s just a kind of metal alloy that’s super prone to-,” you start, completing your sentence at the same time as Sydney chimes in.

“Rusting,” you both say in unison, sharing a look. 

“Huh,” Tina sounds, suddenly losing interest. “I don’t get it. It’s more work to take care of? Our shit’s part-plastic and does the job just fine.”

“Oh but she’s so smooth,” you playfully swoon, referring to how beautifully the knife performs for you. 

“It’s all about the performance, T,” Sydney adds. 

Tina hums in response, still unconvinced by you and Sydney’s admiration for the fancy tools. 

“So you and Carmy. How’d you meet Jeff?” Tina inquires further geturing her knife towards Carmy’s expediting station, and eliciting another laugh from you and Sydney.

“Uhhhh… we both worked at the same restaurant in New York. I came in to stage and the competitive jerk tried to smoke me. Thought he could show me it was his territory.”

“Like a little bitch,” Tina teases, the shade evident in her voice.

“And you kicked his ass obviously,” Sydney suggests, hopefully. 

“Mhm,” Tina adds in agreement.

“Oh absolutely,” you answer, deviously. “I walked out with a job that night. Carmy and I are the classic kitchen staff case of… enemies turned good friends.” 

You look up from your station, noticing an exchanged look between Sydney and Tina. 

It’s the kind of look that says, Just friends, huh?

“Alright, alright. Enough with the girl talk, gossip girls. News flash: no one gives a shit about fuckin’ Tom Colicchio and Padma Whatserface over here,” Richie interrupts, referring to the you and Carmy, as he passes by with a few empty storage containers on the way to the dishwashing station. 

“Asshole / Fuck off, Richie,” Sydney and Tina shout back at the same time. 

“Hey! Listen up, everyone! Fire two spaghettis, two short ribs, one chicken,” Carmy calls out to the kitchen. You listen attentively, hearing the chorus of the entire kitchen repeat the order back to him, punctuating the order with a ‘heard.’ 

You smile to yourself, as you enjoy the feeling of falling into such a familiar rhythm. 

You’ve missed working in the kitchen, and you’ve missed working in the kitchen with Carmy. This was so different than any of the bullshit you’ve been through together – even when he is arguing or yelling at someone. It’s not some sterile environment that looks more like a science lab or an operation room than it does a kitchen.

No, this place has soul. 

Between the crass kitchen banter, the less than flattering nicknames, and its wild cast of characters, it’s only day three and you feel right at home. Dinner service flies by and you’re eager to check in with Marcus by the end of the shift. Before taking your apron off, you head over to his corner of the kitchen. 

“Hey, how’s everything going, chef?” you ask, curiously. 

“Good, chef,” he answers proudly. “I got the brioche covered and ready to rise overnight and I prepped the cake donuts so we’re ready to roll tomorrow morning. I went with a blueberry cake donut this time around.” 

“Sounds great. I can’t wait to try it, chef,” you reply. “Need anything from me before I head out for the night?”

“Oh no, uh, I’m almost done here,” Marcus answers, inspiring confidence in his ability. “Just workin’ on a curd for the filling, chef. Just like you taught me.”

“Alright,” you chuckle, tickled by how excited he is. “Have a good night, chef.” You pause, wondering if your words will be totally lost on him. “And make sure you get some rest tonight, okay?” 

He responds with a nod, as you leave his station.

You make your way to the locker area, hanging your apron up, and slipping off your kitchen sneakers, before taking a seat on the bench. It looks like most of the kitchen staff got a head start on you and have already left, or are out of their kitchen clothes and ready to head home. There’s a strange feeling in your heart. You haven’t felt this kind of… community… in a professional kitchen in a long time and you try your best to name what it is you’ve felt was missing. 

“Hey,” you hear a voice say, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“Hey,” you say to Carmy. 

He removes his apron, folding it over his forearm. It sits further down his arm, right near his tattooed hand, you notice, as he leans his side against the lockers. 

“Thanks for jumpin’ in… you know… on the line tonight,” he starts his gaze practically piercing through your soul. 

“Yeah, it’s uh, no problem,” you reply, placing your knife roll and kitchen shoes back into your locker. “I had fun.”

“You uh, you still want to go for that drink?” he asks, shyly. 

You smile. 

“Yeah.”

*

“It’s fucked up,” Carmy shakes his head in disbelief. 

“Oh please. What?” you groan, shooting him a look.

“You’ve been in my city for… what three days now and you already have a hookup at one of the hardest to get into bars here,” Carmy replies, eliciting a laugh from you. 

“Oh my god,” you sigh with a playful eye roll. “I’m a New Yorker, asshole. You know that’s how we do it.” 

He shakes his head again, before locking eyes with you, “You were always better at it than me.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you, Carmen Berzatto, finally admitting that I’m better at something than you? Can you say it again, and I’m just going to-.” you tease, playfully, pulling out your phone as if you’re going to film him saying it. 

“Oh shut up…” he shoots back, gently pushing your phone away from his face. 

“I mean, you could always make friends with anyone. The bodega guy downstairs. The fuckin’ bodega cat. Our favorite butcher? ‘S why we always got the good cuts of meat when we cooked together on our days off.” 

“Which is exactly why I do it,” you point out. 

You had always been so magnetic to him. It’s something that he’s always admired about you – something that always reminded him of Mikey. 

“No, I-, I used to be a regular at this bar when I was working at Gramercy Tavern – actually, I think it closed right before you came to New York. Anyways, found out my favorite bartender moved to Chicago and I sent him a message letting him know I’d be in town. Said he’d get us in even if they were booked up, and,” you gesture towards where the two of you are sitting together, “Et voila!” 

Carmy takes a look around. He hasn’t been in a fine dining establishment since he left New York. It’s as if all the fancy awards and all the dues he’s paid cooking in the best restaurants in the entire world don’t matter anymore. He feels so out of place: the people, the over-the-top cocktails, the overpriced bowls of food called something fancy to justify the high price point. 

“From the kitchen” your bartender had said curtly, a mere few minutes ago. He had placed a few plates in front of the two of you to share that you most certainly didn’t order.

You both had thanked the bartender, before digging into the large bowl of soup, stracciatella, and focaccia bread on the plate. You rip off pieces of bread, dipping them into the salty broth, popping them into your mouth. Carmy’s much more of a gentleman about it, using his spoon to try the soup first. You had only planned on drinking here, but your friend at The Aviary had really come through. You’re sure it doesn’t hurt that you’re here with Carmy, and that these guys definitely know who Carmy is. 

“So…” you start, taking a sip of whatever fizzy strawberry gin thing you’d ordered earlier. “I feel like there are a lot of long stories I’d like to hear.” 

Carmy makes a sound in agreement before taking a sip of his drink. It’s just bourbon on the rocks, and you wonder when he started drinking bourbon like this.

“I mean… we could start here. How the hell are ya?” you ask. 

“I…” he starts, before trailing off. He buries his face in his hands, dragging his fingertips across his forehead. “It’s uh, it’s been a long couple of months. Christ. The restaurant was a goddamn mess, everyone hated my fuckin’ guts. And then Syd showed up and, well, she’s been a big help.” 

You wait a beat before saying, “As much as I want to hear about the restaurant, Carm, I mean how are you doing?”

Your words stop him, and he looks up at you with those baby blue eyes. He takes his time thinking about it, shrugging before muttering something along the lines of, “I’m okay, I guess.”

He’s searching for the right words to explain how the hell he’s even supposed to answer that question.

“I don’t know. Guess I thought if I fixed the restaurant, if I could fix it-. Maybe I could fix him,” he drags out. 

He waits a few beats before finally admitting:

“I miss him. Mikey. And I found out all kinds of shit about him that I-, well, shit I didn’t know. I think-, I think it’s why he kept me away. Why he shut me out.”

You listen as he begins to fill you in: about Mikey, the drugs, the debt he inherited that he now owes to Cicero, how hard it was to win over the kitchen staff that, come hell or high water, weren’t interested in changing their ways. And then he tells you about the meetings he's been going to -- the al-anon meetings. And you begin to understand. While he’s the same old Carmy, this isn’t the exact same Carmy that you knew in New York. The Carmy you knew in New York never would’ve gone to those meetings. He would’ve brushed it off and pretended there wasn’t a problem and taken as much punishment as he could in the kitchen instead of dealing with what he was feeling.

Mikey’s death, and coming home, and this restaurant, it’s all changed him. 

And maybe, just maybe, it’s part of the reason why, after months of no contact, he reached out to you now, but he’s not sure if he should tell you that yet.

You’ve got to give it to him. If anything, he’s exceptionally talented at cutting people out of his life. It’s his M.O – the only thing that’s been consistent in his life – even when those people didn’t deserve it. It’s what he knows to do. It’s something he’s learned… from Mikey, from his dad… 

But this… what he’s telling you, these are stories of connection and community. 

“And Syd’s really helped me pull this shit together. She's kinda like... the glue, y'know? I- I don’t know where we’d be without her,” Carmy concludes.

You agree. Syd is brilliant. You can see just from having been in that kitchen that she’s been the biggest catalyst for the changes — even his.

“I know you only asked me to come for pastry but I’m glad you let me jump in on the line tonight,” you say. “It’s cool to see what you’re doing now and… I don’t know. I know it was a rocky start, but you’ve got something here. Something that could be really, really good, Carm. You’re making real fucking food. Like your mom’s chicken. I haven’t forgotten about that.” 

“How can you remember that?” Carmy asks, a little surprised, his eyes lighting up. He’d almost forgotten that he’d once made it for you while you were both still in New York.

You nod, “Best chicken piccata I’ve had in my life.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Hands down.”

“You know,” you start, a mischievous tone in your voice. “If I recall correctly, you made me some pretty bomb meals back in New York. And didn’t I say something along the lines of you really shining when-?”

“Oh no,” he groans. “Not this again.”

“I’m just saying!” you justify, innocently. “When you cook the food you grew up with, Carm, you’re at your very best. And don’t get me wrong. You’re an exceptional chef, regardless of what you do but-.”

“So what? You’re gonna say ‘I told you so?’” he questions, shooting you a look. 

You shrug, playfully, “I can’t help it if I’m right all the time,” earning an eye roll from him. 

“Especially when it comes to you.”

He’s quiet for a moment, because you do know him. You’ve seen sides of him he’s barely let anyone else see. It feels good and terrifying all at once to be seen this clearly.

“Yeah, well, you always were a little more Mozza than French Laundry, huh?” he shoots back, referencing your difference in preference. While Mozza was more family style, The French Laundry, a restaurant Carmy had worked at once upon a time, was anything but. 

“Yeah. Who knew one day we’d switch places?” you reply, a sadness in your voice. Were you… envious of what Carmy had? Was this what you were looking for?

“So uh, you gonna tell me what the hell happened with the restaurant?” Carmy asked, changing the subject – changing the subject to you. 

You sigh, you raise your drink to your lips, finishing the rest of what’s in the glass in one go. 

“That bad, huh?”

“No!” you’re quick to reply. “Well, yes. But no. But yeah….” 

Carmy flags the bartender down, ordering another round for the two of you. 

You’re not even sure where to begin in regards to the existential crisis of sorts that you’ve been having, so you just tell him what happened. 

“I was juicing blood oranges one day. And-, you know we were going to take the juice and do all that fancy gastronomy shit with it… turn it into like, the same consistency of ‘dew in the early morning’…” you began to explain, quoting what your head pastry chef had said that day.  

“And I’m sitting there thinking… what the hell am I doing? I mean, who eats food like this?! Who wants to eat a drop of blood orange juice that’s been turned into the consistency of dew in the early mornings? Like, why the fuck can’t I just make the best blood orange olive oil cake anyone’s ever had, and that be enough, you know?”

“And. I don’t know. It got me thinking a lot about the kind of food I want to make, and what that would mean, and what does any of this shit even mean? Fast forward to a week later, and I don’t feel like I have a fuckin’ clue about what I want to do with my life and I’m quitting the restaurant.”

You pause, noticing that he’s just been listening attentively this whole time.

“I’m tired, Carm,” you admit. “I mean. I’m burnt the hell out. I just. I don’t want to work this hard for something that- something that I’m not even sure I believe in anymore.”

Another beat. 

“I know it sounds totally insane but-.”

“No! No, it doesn’t,” Carmy interrupts, quick to reassure you, as he reaches for your hand. Your eyes flicker from his hand on yours, the small tattoo above his wrist, then back to him, feeling the loss of body heat as he pulls his hand back only a moment later. 

“I feel like I’ve been thinkin’ about a lot of the same shit,” he admits, empathizing with you. 

“I just feel… kind of lost,” you say, and it’s the first time you’ve said it out loud. “I do. I-, I’ve been feeling really lost lately.”

In all the time he’s known you, never could he have expected you to feel lost. He wondered if he’d just put you on a pedestal. You had always been this stunningly charismatic, charming person that could walk into any room and in minutes, have everyone wrapped around your finger. For so long he denied any feelings for you because he knew you were unattainable – that someone like you could ever want someone like him felt impossible. Wouldn’t you be better off with one of those Wall Street assholes that came into the restaurant all the time – wining and dining their clients with their expensive wristwatches and fancy town cars?

But hearing you say it – that you feel lost – it reminds him that you’re only human too. 

He waits another beat, guilt filling up his throat, before he speaks again. 

“I should’ve been there for you. I’m sorry.”

There’s an earnestness in his voice that makes you want to trust him. Sure, it seems like he’s been apologizing to you for three days straight, but you want to listen. 

You take another sip of your drink. 

“I started volunteering at a Brooklyn community garden so I could like, pull my head out of my ass,” you share with him. 

“Did it help?”

You shrug, “Yeah, a little bit.”

It helped, but it hadn’t fixed anything. You feel like you can confide in him, especially since he told you that he was going to meetings.

“My therapist actually encouraged me to come here,” you confess, gauging his reaction as the words flow from your mouth. “Get out of dodge. Get a change of scenery… give myself some time to think.”

“We both know you do a little too much of that,” he teases gently, and you chuckle. 

Between Carmy’s avoidance, and your neuroses, you’re quite the pairing. 

“Yeah.”

Carmy pauses, not sure if he has the words to give you the explanation you deserve, but he’s going to try. 

“I had… a lot goin’ on. When I got back. And I didn’t know….” He pauses before continuing. “I didn’t know how to do it all at once. How to handle, you know… everything at the same time.”

And it’s just easier to avoid everything – to avoid you, to avoid the way I feel about you, he thinks to himself.

And it’s exactly what he did, he pushed you away, and pushed any and all feelings or thoughts about you into a dark hole, never to be acknowledged ever again. 

Until you quit your job. Until his phone call with Tim. Until his phone call with you. 

“I know, Carm. I know you’re sorry and I appreciate the apology,” you start, taking a breath. “It’s just that-.  I need you to know...” 

You pause, suddenly feeling like you’re in the middle of an anxiety dream where you realize you’re not wearing any pants.

“I need you to know that it hurt. It… it really hurt. Not hearing from you. Being cut out like that.”

“I know,” he admits, remorsefully. “I’m gonna be better. At least I’m trying to be.” 

“I really want to believe that,” you say, softly. 

But I don’t want to get hurt again, you think to yourself.

He looks at you, a soft, shy smile on his face, and it makes you want to take a chance on him. 

Who are you kidding? You’d jump off of a bridge with him if he asked, even if it meant getting hurt all over again.

“Okay?” he asks, hopefully. 

You’re not sure if he’s asking if it’s okay, if you’re okay, if everything is okay between the two of you, and you wonder if he means all three.

“Okay,” you answer, quietly. 

“Okay.”

read: part four

taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #the bear marcus #sydney adamu #the bear tina #richie jerimovich

[bigassmoonchild]

(Slides a 20 into the ask box)

How do the boys react to dealing with a stubborn S/O who will deliberately do things if they have asked multiple times just to get the other hand

Rubbish need taking out already did it

Washing up need do already drying

Like real petty

( not based on real life events of today .......)

god, i love this. i will always take a 20, but my writing will be free for today <3 (this may not be based on things i've had to deal with as well, woopsies. i'm also absolutely having a stroke trying to type this, i can't spell today??)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

he tried his best. you couldn't put it past him, he really did try a lot. you were just also incredibly petty, but sometimes he really did lack in these types of things.

'si, can you wash up the dishes for me?' you asked one night, slipping away to take a shower after he gave a sound of acknowledgement. he hadn't really been paying much attention, focused on the little puzzle you had brought for him from your family.

it was 500 pieces, so you really couldn't blame him. you had your own fixations, and god forbid someone try to take those from you when you were in the middle of it.

half an hour later, you came back out. 'simon, please don't forget the dishes,' you called out to him and disappeared for some time. he wasn't sure how much time had passed before he rubbed his face with his hands, trying to wipe away the frustration of not being able to get the pieces to fit together.

he finally stood up to stretch and go to do the dishes. when he walked in, the sink and counter were spotless, the dishes sitting in their drying racks. his brows furrowed, a little confused.

he glanced in the bedroom, seeing you sitting there while reading. 'lovie, did you wash the dishes?' he asked, watching as you gave him a faint nod. he hummed, getting ready for bed and not entirely thinking about it.

when he left for his run before you woke up, he made a note to himself to put the dishes away. he unlocked the door, sliding his running shoes off and taking a quick shower before coming back out to the kitchen.

there you stood, the dishes all put away and his tea being made, your coffee cooling down on the counter. he gave another little hum, giving you a quick kiss on the temple as he finished off his own tea.

you glanced at the kitchen, squinting a little at the rubbish. 'si, could you take out the rubbish for me?' you asked and he nodded at you, watching as you stood and took your own shower. you came out and went to the garbage, pulling it up out of the bin.

simon stood, grabbing the bag out of your hands. 'lovie, you asked me to do this. I'm going to get to it,' he whispered and pecked your lips, tying it up and taking it out. when he came back, he washed his hands. 'you just need to give me a little more time to do these things,' he told you and you nodded.

'i'm just so used to exes not ever really doing them. it's easier for me to do them and make sure they get done,' you whispered to him. he pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on your head.

the two of your sighed deeply, your arms finding their way around his back. 'it's okay, sweetheart,' he whispered. 'i'll try to get them done when you ask, but i just need time to get things done,' he kissed the top of your head. 'when i'm home, i can take time to get things done. it's nice for me,' he added. you nodded carefully.

Captain John Price:

honestly? he was probably the best about getting things done when you asked. sometimes, though, especially right after a mission he would lack at it. you tried to understand, but it was getting tiring.

'john, i really need you to clean the cats littler today. rubbish gets picked up tomorrow,' you said to him and he glanced up at you from the couch.

'i've got it, honey,' he told you and you nodded, bidding him goodbye for your work day. john had just come home from a three month mission, and found himself drifting on the couch as he watched shit tv.

hearing his phone buzz, he checked it to see a text from you. litter needs to b edone! we might need to get some more before cleaning it. he responded with a simple 'of course, honey'.

drifting once more, he briefly heard the door open and close, felt your lips press against his head and the blanket lay over him. when he woke up fully, he saw you walking back into the room and going into the kitchen. the water ran and he heard you turn it off. probably washing your hands.

he stood up fully, placing the blanket on the back of the couch and going into the bathroom where the litter was. it was clean, and the cat (mr. muffins you'd lovingly named him, but he rather liked to call him dipshit) was blinking up at john.

walking out to the kitchen where you were standing, he wrapped him arms around you. 'i would've done the litter, just fell asleep a bit too long,' he whispered and you hummed to him. he helped cook dinner, choppign some of the vegetables and adding them to the pan when you'd needed.

he made sure to wash everything he'd used, placing them on the rack to dry. he served himself a plate and yours as well, placing them down to ensure you had the warmer food. the two of you ate, quietly talking about things that had happened during the day. 'i think dipshit took another tumble off the bookshelf,' john told you and you laughed long and loud.

shooing you off to take a nice, long shower, john washed the dishes and put them off to the side to dry. he crawled into bed with you, holding you close to him while you drifted off.

he woke up late the next morning, finding you in the kitchen sipping on some coffee. the dishes were put away, and you gave him a little smile.

cupping your face, he pressed a kiss against your lips and looked you in the eye. 'if i start something, i'm going to finish it,' he whispered and you nodded softly.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

'kyle, there's some clothes in the wash. i need you to move them over to the dryer in an hour!' you called out while walking out. it was the day you'd go out with your sister and enjoy yourselves. take some time away from everything and just relax.

he called back to you, 'i've got it, lovely!' and you left. you called him, explaining that today was going to run a little longer than normal. you also double checked to make sure that he was going to swap the loads over, and he gave you a little confirmation.

he didn't have it. to be completely honest, he forgot all about it until well after you'd been home. 'how was tonight, sweetheart?' he asked and you told him all about what your sister had said. some new information about the latest guy she was dating, something about her friend having a kid.

'oh! did you swap the load over? have you got it up here already?' you asked and his eyes widened. 'kyle, seriously?' you asked, sounding exhausted. 'it was one thing i asked of you today,' and he sighed deeply.

shaking his head, he looked down at you. 'i'm sorry. i forgot all about it, and that's my mistake,' he moved around you to go do it himself.

'no,' you huffed, placing your bags down. 'i'm going to go do it, it'll probably need to be rewashed because it might smell bad,' and you disappeared into the laundry room. he was annoyed, he understood that it sucked to try and have a relaxing day just to come home to more things to do, but you really needed to give him some leeway.

he was going to fix it, but you had to jump in and do that. neither of you talked that night, just going to sleep in silence. it felt wrong, to go to bed somewhat angry, but he wasn't sure what to say.

the next morning, you both sat at the table, drinking your drinks in silence. 'i'm sorry,' he spoke up finally. you just gave him a little grunt, not looking up at him. 'seriously, i'm genuinely sorry. i really just forgot, i didn't mean to give you more work,' he told you and you sighed deeply.

'i'm just really tired of picking up the slack where people forget or don't realize. i don't find it difficult to realize what needs to be done around the house, i juts need you to try harder,' you told him. he nodded, not promising to be perfect but promising to try. 'that's all i need,' you whispered.

Johnny 'Soap' McTavish:

when you walked in the door, he pulled you into a tight hug. 'hi, baby,' he whispered into your hair and pressed a kiss against it. you gave him a little greeting, allowing him to pull you over to the table. he'd set up a little after work snack for you, knowing you'd be hungry.

you gave him a little kiss, thanking him for the food. 'if you go for a run, can you bring the rubbish out?' you asked, giving him another kiss as he nodded and went into your shared room.

he put away the few clothes he'd still had left to put away from his mission, coming back out to see you putting the dishes away. for some time, the two of you sat together watching one of the shows you'd been watching together.

after the episode ended, you turned to johnny. 'don't forget about the rubbish,' you hummed to him and hopped into the shower. he took his time getting ready for the run, sitting on the bed with his clothes set out while he waited for you to be done.

you walked out and he pecked your cheek. 'needed to piss a river,' he whispered to you, briefly hearing you mention the rubbish once more as you walked away to your shared office. he knew you'd be doing an art project, one he wasn't allowed to look at.

quickly leaving the apartment, he took his time on the run. it was something he did to clear his head, something he did to relax. he spent a good thirty minutes on the run, looping around the different blocks of the area you lived.

when he came back around to the apartment, he found you outside tossing out the rubbish. 'oh, forgot all about that. woulda done it after the run,' and you shook your head, sighing deeply.

'i reminded you three times, johhny,' you whispered to him, walking back to your shared apartment in silence. it was quiet for a little while, the two of you just sitting there. he felt bad, of course he did, but he never meant for him to forget.

'i'm sorry, baby,' he said to you, hand reaching out for yours before you pulled away. johnny sighed deeply, groaning harshly. 'really? the silent treatment?' you groaned as well, standing up.

turning to look at him, you shook your head. 'i asked you three times. i just needed the one thing done, that's it,' you told him. he pulled you in for a hug.

pressing a kiss against your head, he rocked the two of your side to side. 'i really didn't mean to forget,'

#simon riley x reader #john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john mctavish x reader #task force 141 #call of duty x reader #no use of y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #ghost mw2 #price mw2 #gaz mw2 #soap mw2 #slight angst #cod mw2 #modern warfare ii #call of duty

[aviradasa]

Drunk Dancin

Elliott (Sdv) X reader

(art from Pinterest)

This was so fun to write I hope you all enjoy! I got kinda lazy towards the end Sorry it's been awhile sense I've had inspo so this might be bad. Also I didn't proof read this shit🤣🖤

It had been a rough day on the farm, the crops were dying due to the change in season, the animals were grumpy even though they had plenty to eat and space to wander, And then to top it off the mines nearly killed me, and now I grumpily stumble to the stardrop saloon.

It's a busy night for the tiny bar. Friday nights are always like that, groups and sad lonely souls gather there to drink, sing, and stumble out sometime past midnight every Friday without fail.

As I make my way inside I see it's still relatively quiet. I walk up to the bar nodding my head to Pam who sits at her usual corner.

“Hey kid you're looking rough, what happened this time?” she asks, turning her head to me with a slight chuckle as she takes a sip of her beer. I look at her with a sigh as I slump over the bar lazily grabbing my drink and sliding it closer to me. “Oh, you know the same old shit. Crops are assholes, and my animals and the creatures in the mines want me dead.” I say lifting my cup to my lips and downing half of my drink before lowering my glass. “It’s been fun,” I say giving her a sarcastic smile.

“Jesus kid you outta slow down there wont be any good tomorrow if you're sloshed,” she says with a grin. I look at her with a raised eyebrow before I can respond. She laughs. “I’m just kidding, the best cure for a shitty day is a drink. If I had any extra cash I would buy you one outta pity but well I'm kinda runnin’ a little short for my tab as is so.. Don’t tell Gus,” she tells me with a wink, I let out a little chuckle. “ Your secrets are safe with me,” I tell her before downing the rest of my drink and calling Gus over for another, which he gladly sells me before I get up from the bar and wander to a table neatly nested in the corner. I sit down and after a few minutes, I see my good friend Leah wander into the saloon collecting her drink from the bar. She wandered to the table next to me. “ well hey their Y/n what are you up to tonight.”She asks as she pulls out her seat to sit down.

I look up at her with a grin holding up my drink. “Girl I’m drinking in hopes I don't wake up tomorrow sober!” I tell her as we both laugh. “ Jeez Y/n what the hell did you do now, don't you tell me you passed out in those mines again!” she jokes with a grin on her face as she takes a sip of her beer.

“Hey now I didn't pass out, but I got too damn close to those rock crabs are the devil.'' I shake my head as I chuckle. “ They keep sneaking up on me and by the time I see one of those things there are 3 more behind me.” I say Leah just laughs “Sounds like you need to buy some armor or something if you gonna keep going down there-” she starts to say before a new voice unintentionally cuts her off.

“Good evening Leah,y/n how are you both tonight?” the person says, looking towards the voice we see Elliott. I was starting to wonder where he was normally earlier. “ hey El where were you? You're a bit later than usual.” I ask the redhead. He just chuckles and takes a seat in between the two tables. “Well, you know how I was having a dry spell of inspiration? Well, I don't know What hit me but today I was able to get 3 chapters done in my novel! I was so caught up in it that I didn't even realize the whole day had run away from me. I feel so alive at the moment!” he tells us excitedly. For the past week, Elliott has been talking about how he had no clue what to write in this book of his, it was kind of sad to see him so upset, but now he's happy and inspired again! Don't get me wrong is amazing, I'm happy for him and even happier that he's so much more enthusiastic and optimistic now, but I just wish he was like this 3 days ago. Because now his joy is feeling a bit suffocating. Or maybe that's just because of my shitty day.

Even so, I sit there and listen to him excitedly explaining some plot twist he wanted to add to a future chapter.

As he speaks I can't help but tune into the music playing from the jukebox. It's decently loud but not enough to give you a headache and the songs playing are mostly from the 70’s and 80's. I guess Gus has decent musical taste! Who knew?

About an hour has passed and our little trio has had our fair share of drinks. We sit there joking around for a little longer before Leah thinks it might be a good idea to pull Elliott and me up to dance. “Leah I don’t know how fuckin to dance??” I slur as she pulls me up. She groans “Come on don't be lame let all just dance! I bet you can do it! Elliott, don't you think they can do it too??” she asks him. Elliott being a little less than drunk more on the tipsy side just laughs.

“ You know I think they can! Go on, go dance, you can do it,” he says, giving me a slight push. Without thinking I grab onto his hand and spin around to face him. “You know what! I’ll go if you come with us.”

Telling him to come with us was the worst thing to say ever.

Cause he was an amazing dancer with a couple of drinks under his belt. And he looked divine doing it. His red suit jacket had been long forgotten on the back of his chair, his long red hair was put up messily in a bun and he was dancing like he should have been on a stage.

He swayed and spun, stumbled once or twice, and laughed with us when we pointed it out to him. It was a beautiful thing to witness, but he didn't take my focus away completely, as Leah and I had been spinning around together, jumping up and down bobbing our heads to the beat as we stumbled and laughed.

As we dance my head starts to spin, dizziness overcoming every aspect of my mind and vision almost knocking me down. But as I stumble, a hand grabs my wrist from behind and spins me around full circle. As I nearly fall forward the person's other hand finds its way to my waist pulling me towards them, my back hits their chest and I hear a laugh. “I can see you've been having fun, you should be more careful, you just never know who you'll stumble into.”

Recognizing the voice, a dopey grin creeps onto my face as I turn my head to look at the culprit.

And just as I guessed it was Elliott standing behind me with an oddly placed smirk on his face. Seeing him sobers me up a little bit in the best way possible.

“ Well now you're the one who grabbed me, I could have stumbled my way into anyone I like. you just happened to be quick about it.” I said with a giggle as I spun around one more to the beat of the song playing. Now facing him as we move around the dancefloor.

“Yes, well. Ah, what can I say i can't think of a good excuse at the moment. I’ve wanted to dance with you for quite some time, And when I saw you had wandered out of Leah's grasp well. I suppose you can call me somewhat of an opportunist.” he says as we both let out a laugh

“ Well, I can’t say I'm complaining that you took that opportunity.” I wink “Nothing against Leah she's quite a good dancer.”

“Better than me?” Elliott says with a joking tone. “Definitely,” I responded with a grin. He places a dramatic hand on his chest as he tries to flip his hair forgetting it's put up at the moment “I’m hurt, I thought I was better than that.” he jokes. A small chuckle escapes me at the gesture before the night goes on and blurs together, not in the sense that I don't remember more like that of a watercolor painting when the colors bleed into one another as we had dancing in a wave of color that turns into something else entirely.

The door of the saloon swung open as we exited, we were one of the last few folks leaving. Leah had left about an hour prior leaving us to our fun, not without saying goodbye first. Waving goodnight to Gus, me and Elliott make our way to the town square. Stopping I turn to him with a tired look “Are you sure you wanna walk me home? It's getting pretty late.'' I asked him. It's not like the walk to the farm is long but for him to walk all the way there and then to the beach is quite the trek even with shortcuts it can take quite a while. “Of course. I'm not gonna let you walk home alone at this hour. It wouldn't be right, especially after the drinks you had earlier.” he tells me with a grin i gaze at him skeptically. Looking him up and down.

Even after the long night he looks surprisingly put together in a semi-messy way, his hair is still put up in that messy bun from earlier but now some more strands are pulled out some of them sticking to his face after the night of dancing, his white dress shirt was wrinkled now and his red coat was lazily thrown over his shoulder. Even so, his posture was still surprisingly straight though he was very slightly hunched over but it was kinda hard to notice. After a few moments, I shrugged my shoulders “Well if you insist.”I told him.

“Oh, I insist” he smiles, turning to the side he offers me his arm. I laugh a bit and take it “Trying to pull the gentlemen card tonight Elliott?” I joke as we make our way past the little garden turning the corner to make our descent down the pathway that leads to my farm. “ I don't need to pull a card. It's just who I am,” he says, his voice a bit smoother than before. Making a little heat rise to my face. I thank the dark shadows of the night for shielding the small details from his view. Damn, that silver tongue of his. I think to myself before I remember to respond “Whatever you say El.” I chuckle looking straight ahead of us. The air is cool as we walk but not uncomfortable in the slightest. It is more of a calming breeze that floats past us picking up the smell of some of the freshly bloomed spring flowers with a slight smell of rain from the previous day. I feel as though I could never tire of the night air, And to admit walking with the man that's haunted my dreams each night just adds that little bit more to it that makes it hard for me to remember that it's real.

“Well, here we are.” I hear Elliott mumble pulling me out of my thoughts. I didn’t even realize we had walked up the steps to my front porch. “ thank you so much, Elliott.'' I smile warmly at him as I release his arm from my hold. “ It was really sweet of you to walk me home tonight. And also thank you for the fun night you and Leah provided me with.” I told him.

“It's always a pleasure, and I would do it again any time any place,” he responds with a nod. a small grin gracing his features. A few moments pass before he decides to speak once more

“ Well I suppose it's getting quite late and I wouldn't want to keep you up too late so I guess I'll be going now,” he says hesitantly. I bow my head with a smile before opening my door a small bit of confidence overcoming me as I get i silly idea

“ Well, it's not that late, how about you come inside for a moment and grab some tea before you go?”

“ that. Would be lovely. As long as you don't mind.” he says taking a step inside my home.

“ I don't mind, I offered,” I responded with a laugh closing the door behind us as I went to heat the kettle. It was a small offer but it was a night neither of us would forget for a long time.

#sdv fanart #sdv elliott #sdv farmer #sdv sebastian #sdv sam #sdv shane #sdv fanfic #stardew farmer #stardew elliott #stardew valley #stardew fanart

[discokicks]

FOX IN THE BOX — ROY KENT.

PART TWO of ACES AT THE WATER’S EDGE.

(series masterlist!) (AO3!) (series playlist!)

pairing: roy kent x fem!reader (no use of y/n!)

summary: back in 2012, you and roy meet for the first time. in 2023, you sign a one-year contract with richmond and have to work with roy for the first time. both go about as well as you’d expect.

word count & rating: 9.6k, R (roy kent says fuck and does fuck!)

chapter warnings: swearing, light sexual innuendos and light references to sex, mentions of alcohol and partying (the olympians get DOWN in olympic village) minor allusions to what happened to reader at west ham, major football talk, roy kent is rich, original character intros and plot (author really likes a plot, woo boy), angst, and of course, fluff.

author’s note: ok wow, thank you for all the love on the first chapter! wildly unexpected but much appreciated. this one’s got a bit more to it— jumping timelines, original characters, lotta soccer/football talk, reader and roy don’t know how to act (in more ways than one). also did crazy research into the 2012 olympics for this, so no one tell me my timeline’s off or i’ll cry. also also, is roy's sister named molly or is that just evidence that i've read too many fics? whatever it is, her name's molly! thank you again for the love and i hope you all enjoy! love you all tons! -mags

LONDON OLYMPICS. (LATE JULY, 2012)

You meet Roy Kent for the first time at midnight, in a rookie’s dorm room in the Olympic Village.

It’s a seemingly unlikely place for a football phenom like him to be. You’d expected all of those guys to choose to be elsewhere, exploiting their home-country advantage to hang out in their posh flats. But there they were, carrying out their team bonding efforts to prepare for their game tomorrow. 

Knowing what you know about Roy now, it’s fitting for him to have been there. But in this moment, you’re shocked to see the likes of him in Olympic Village. 

It’s a place that’s convinced you that your college career was only good for preparing you for it. And you’re not even talking about the sports aspect of it. You’re talking about the shit-show, chaos-menu of athletes from around the world, acting as though it’s the first week of freshman year.

Despite the fact that alcohol, drugs, and any other traditional party favors are completely off-limits on-premises, it doesn’t seem to deter your fellow Olympians from running the dorms like it’s a frat party. You’re half-convinced you’re going to get a classic ‘who do you know here’ from the trust-fund-looking Australian swimmer you pass getting into your building, but he just sends a heartbreaking smile at you and your teammate as you walk in.

Your team’s fresh off the bus from Glasgow, having just beat France at Hampden Park. It was a hell of a way to open, despite the Opening Ceremony not taking place for another two days. As a younger player who’d proven herself in last year’s World Cup, you were the starting striker in your first Olympic game ever, scoring the second goal of the match and assisting the fourth. The adrenaline of it all hadn’t quite worn off yet. 

It’s clear that your teammate’s feeling the same way. Melanie Rivera, your left winger and for all intents and purposes, best friend, is straight-up vibrating. You’d met during World Cup training, where you two had instantly clicked and she’d taken you under her wing to show you the ropes and what it meant to play at this level. Despite this being her second Olympics, the feeling of a win never goes away. Or at least, that’s what she tells you.

The two of you are practically bouncing off the walls as you arrive on your floor, giggling to yourselves about different things that had happened during the game. Your fluent-in-French full-back telling off a French forward when she got too close to your goalie. The mid-game mishap where some French girl’s cleat went flying. The ‘bullshit’ yellow card Mel had received right before the half (Mel knew it was a fair call, she’d totally pushed that girl). 

“She was asking for it, though,” Mel insists, collapsing onto your bed as you enter your shared room. “Pulling on my shirt the whole game. I have two rules. Two. Don’t—”

You roll your eyes, having heard these rules a million times. “—touch my goalie, and don’t—”

“—touch my fucking kit,” she finishes, throwing her hands up exasperatedly. Her eyes shut with a huff.  “They’re pretty simple. Don’t know why people can’t follow them.”

“Yeah, it’s a travesty,” you reply dryly. Your lip curls into a grimace as you look at her. “You wanna know what my rules are?”

One of Mel’s eyes opens with a knowing smile. “Don’t be sweaty on your bed?”

“Oh, so we do remember,” you say, falsely cheery. The faux smile falls from your face. “Get off. Or at least shower. I want to go to bed and I don’t want to like, smell you.”

Mel rolls off your bed with a dramatic sigh. “Fine,” she relents. “But you can’t go to bed.”

Your expression remains unamused. “And why not?”

“Because the British men’s team is hanging out upstairs,” she states as if the answer’s obvious.

“Right. Of course,” you reply. “So, we’re crashing their team bonding?”

“No,” she says, pointing at you. “Their women’s team crashed. And then Jack texted me to tell us to come up.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Uh-huh. Is Paige there?”

Mel shrugs, avoiding your gaze. “Maybe.”

“Oh, great,” you say sarcastically. “So, you’re forcing me to stay awake so I can wingman you?”

Mel flops on your bed once more. “Please,” she cries. “Dude, I like her so fucking much. We’ve been texting since the Cup and I don’t know, this year I think I’ve got a chance.”

“Why can’t Jack wingman you? He’s clearly down to set you two up,” you say, sounding a bit whiny. “Also, why are they hanging out here? I thought they’d rent a place or stay at their own houses.”

“They make the rookies stay in the Village their first years. It's for the experience, or whatever,” she answers. That’s brushed to the side quickly. “Also, Jack is a fucking awful wingman. The only type of scoring he’s good at is on the field.” She looks at you expectantly. “And I can’t go up there alone. I’ll look like a loser.”

You gape at her. “You are twenty-seven years old.”

“And I’ll look like a twenty-seven-year-old friendless loser!” When she sees the expression you’re wearing, she tilts on her side. “Say yes or I’ll roll around in your bed.”

You cover your face with your hands, an exhausted laugh echoing into your palms. This clearly is a losing battle, and you decide you’re going to be a good friend tonight. “Fine,” you groan, hearing your bed squeak as she launches herself off of it with a cheer. “An hour. That’s it. And then I’m going to bed and never talking to you again.”

“I can live with that,” she yells, bounding for the shower in your room. “I’ll text Jack that we’ll be up in thirty!”

“You owe me so big!” you reply.

You can hear Mel’s grin when she says, “I love you, too!”

Thirty minutes later, you’re freshly showered and up three floors, standing outside of the rookie’s dorm room. You can hear just how loud it is from outside and you suddenly really feel like you’re back in college again. 

It takes Mel a solid three minutes to work up the courage to knock on the door, something that you’re sure would have taken longer if you hadn’t reached out and done it yourself. She scowls at you, but the door opens before she can cuss you out.

Jack Wilson, Tottingham sweeper and three-time Olympian, answers the door with a wide smile. You’d met him a handful of times due to his friendship with Mel and he was just as lovely as everyone had said. There was a charming sort of awkwardness about him despite his status as a professional footballer, but it made him all the more endearing to you. 

“Glad you finally decided to show,” he said to you two, opening the door wider for you to enter. “Congrats on the win.”

“Thanks,” Mel said, eyes already scanning the small dorm living room for Paige. “What’s up with the team bonding in the dorms?”

You’re also looking around the room, sending smiles to the handful of girls you recognize. “Game tomorrow. Coach wanted us to do dinner as a team, so we ate in that big hall. And we--” he says, pointing to two guys on the couch, “--wanted to see the Village this year. So here we are.”

Your eyes follow his finger to the men, one of which isn’t familiar. The other, you immediately identify as Roy Kent. And his eyes are on you.

He’s easily recognizable, curly hair a bit more tame and managed than the iconic, half-assed mullet he’d had when he first signed with Chelsea. That ever-present scowl only lifts a little when he sees that you and Mel have arrived, but you honestly can’t see much change in his expression due to his drawn brows.

While you’d relied on Mel for the majority of your connections to this new world of football, she’d never really seemed to hang out with the likes of Roy. From what you’d gathered, despite his rather high status, he was a bit of a recluse. Yes, he went out constantly, and yes (if the tabloids were right), he’d certainly dated around, nobody really seemed to know much about him. 

When he’d come up in a team game of ‘Fuck, Marry, Kill’ with famous footballers, Mel had told the group that he was a guy of few words, and of the words he did say, ‘fuck’ seemed to be his favorite. Your friend and teammate Katie O’Connor was ready with a terrible impression of him when she answered with ‘fuck,’ especially after Mel also confirmed that the Gina Gershon news was true. 

You try to ignore this as you go over to introduce yourself to them, despite the fact it’s currently setting up camp in your brain. “Nice to meet you guys,” you say to Roy and the other boy on the couch. Jack takes a spot next to you on the floor as you take an empty chair next to the couch. Paige waves at you from her spot when you sit.

Roy nods at you in acknowledgment. “Good showing out there.”

Jack points at you. “Bloody insane goal you had,” he says. “I think I’d break my back if I tried to do a scorpion kick like that. It was fucking class.”

You grin. “Well, lucky for Tottenham, they keep you on the other side,” you say, then quietly add, “Not that it would make a difference.”

You see Roy’s lips twitch up from the corner of your eye, and you bite back a laugh as Jack physically deflates before you. Mel’s heard your comment and runs over to sit on the arm of your chair, which is conveniently close to Paige. “Ooh, is it shit on Tottenham time? Because I haven’t seen your ass in months, so I got a whole list, man.”

As the two of them begin to argue in the way they do, you sit at watch them with a smile. They’d had this type of relationship since you’d met them back at the Cup, when Jack had flown into Germany to see your final games. Despite the loss, those were a wild couple of weeks.

The moment your brain starts to recount them, you can feel a pair of eyes on you. It snaps you out of your haze completely. Especially when you realize that it’s Roy Kent who’s staring at you once more.

You blink at him, slightly confused by the attention. “Hi?”

He nods at you again. He seems to take a moment to evaluate you, and then, “You overthink.”

“W-What?” you ask. The word comes out clunky and confused.

Roy motions to the TV that’s on across the room, one that’s showing highlights from your game. “Out there,” he says. “You overthink.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment. You, feeling unbelievably out of sorts and unsure of what brought this on, Roy, secure and casual, like he just stated the weather. 

Before you can question him, he nods at you for a final time, then stands up. “I’m going home,” he tells the group. “You lot better be fucking ready for the game tomorrow.”

Roy’s out of the room before anyone can say a proper goodbye to him, but no one bats an eye. No questions follow. 

Except you, of course. You’ve got a fucking million.

You overthink on the field? Where the fuck had he gotten that from? How had he seen it? While there were some times, yeah, you got a bit in your head, you’d never considered yourself an overthinker. And even if you were, the overthinking produced results, right? You liked to think you were just three steps ahead of everyone else out there. Not an overthinker.

But what made him say that? What had he seen? Was it your hesitation outside the box in the first fifteen that resulted in you losing the ball? Was it the switch you’d made to get to the goal when your right winger had it on the side? Was there a look on your face when you’d taken that free kick in the second half? You were pretty in your head then, but hey, it led to Mel scoring.

Overthinking. Pfft. He didn’t know what he was talking about. 

But then again, what the fuck was he talking about?

The thought of this unknown bomb dropped on you without any sort of answers quickly and completely took over your mind. Criticism about your playing had never bothered you (you were a twenty-five-year-old female soccer player, and you’d had more horrendous coaches than you could count), but this? This was something that literally made you itch. And you weren’t going to be able to scratch it until you knew what the hell he meant.

Before you knew what you were doing, you found yourself practically chasing Roy out of the room, whipping your head around to figure out which way he’d gone. Lucky for you, the dorm’s slow lifts were on your side. 

Roy stood by the elevator, checking something on his phone as he waited. He clearly doesn’t hear you coming because he nearly drops it when you ask, “What do you mean I overthink?”

“What the fuck?” And now he’s staring at you like you’re the crazy one.

“I should be asking you that!” you say, then motion back to the direction of the dorm. “You tell me I overthink, stare at me with no follow-up, then leave? Who does that?” You’re way too animated for past midnight, but you don’t care. “Because even if I was an overthinker, which I’m not, that sort of stuff is probably the worst thing you can do. Not leaving on a note like that is like, rule number one.”

Roy’s brows shoot up. “I wasn’t aware there were rules.”

“Yeah, well, there are,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. When he continues to just stare at you, you make a face that you hope will cue him to go on. “So, go ahead. Please explain yourself.”

“Explain the overthinking thing?” he asks. “I thought it was pretty fucking simple.”

You roll your eyes. “No, what made you say that? Was it a play I had? Was it something I did? What did you see? I’m just curious as to—”

“You came up the field toward the end of the game,” he says, effectively cutting you off. “And you made a pass to Rivera that led to another pass, then a goal.”

You nod at him, not seeing his point at all. “Yeah? So? It was a great goal by Katie.”

Roy’s expression turns slightly frustrated, as if he’s annoyed that you don’t immediately catch on. “It was a great goal. But the fucking second you saw Rivera next to you, you started thinking ahead,” he tells you. “So far ahead that you didn’t notice how slow and fucking awful your mark was and that you could have had a better goal if you’d stopped thinking.”

There are approximately fifteen seconds of dead air between you two as you attempt to take in what he just said to you. “So, let me get this straight,” you begin. “You’re saying I’m bad because I think too much about teamwork?”

For a moment, you think Roy’s going to slam his head into the elevator door. Instead, he just turns to the buttons and presses them once more. “Fuck’s sake, could these be any fucking slower?”

You’re too far gone at this point to even be offended. “Uh, it doesn’t matter. You started this. You’re not going anywhere until we finish it. Why does me not being a selfish dick make me bad?”

“I didn’t say you were bad. You’re not. Clearly,” he responds. You note a bit of the classic ‘Roy Kent’ anger laced within his words and it makes you snap your mouth shut. “I’m just saying. You’re at your best when you’re not so fucking nice and when you don’t fucking think.”

Unconsciously, your arms cross over your chest. “I’ve got twenty-two years of playing time and about ten coaches that would disagree with that.” 

Once more, you see the corner of his mouth slide upward as he glances at you. “If that’s the case, then your coaches were all idiots. They weren’t smart enough to let you loose.”

An unexpected warmth rises to your cheeks. But instead of acknowledging it, you ask, “What, like you’d be a better one?” Before he can respond to that, you’re talking again. “And even if all of that were true, I wouldn’t know how to do that.”

Roy’s brow creases. “Do what?”

“Not… think ahead,” you say. “Or not think at all. That being three steps ahead thing is kind of, well, my thing.” You offer a shrug. “The generous, teamwork thing too. I like that. It’s what makes me good.”

Roy continues to look at you, but says nothing. For a moment, all is quiet as he just… stares, almost as if he can see through you. Like he’s privy to something you’re not, or he’s had some sort of revelation about you. You’re not sure anyone’s ever looked at your this hard. It’s a bit unnerving and you have to fight to not avert your eyes.

Before you can begin to further overthink that (god fucking damn it), he’s holding his phone out to you. You stare down at it blankly. 

“You’re showing me your phone,” you state, but it’s almost a question.

Roy rolls his eyes. “Put in your fucking number,” he says.

Your lips purse as you hesitate, but you find yourself reaching out for it. “Is this how you typically do it?” you ask, typing your name into his contacts. “You neg a girl for five minutes straight and then ask her for her number?”

Roy rolls his eyes again, but there’s humor amongst the annoyance this time. “I’m going to text you a time and an address,” he tells you. You hand him his phone back. “Be there on Friday after the Opening Ceremony.”

The elevator had finally arrived in the middle of his sentence and you eye him wearily as he steps in. “Just… show up to this address?” you ask. “Do I get context? Like, what to expect? What am I dressing for?”

“Overthinking,” he reminds you as he presses the button for the lobby. “Just fucking be there.”

Before you can object further or tell him that you were not in fact overthinking, you were just a woman in a foreign city concerned for your safety, he leans forward to stop the doors from closing. He’s got one hand up and has a small smirk on his face.

“And just so we’re crystal fucking clear,” he says. “If I were trying to chat you up, you’d fucking know it.”

Your eyes immediately fix into a glare and the doors close before you can say anything in response. “Asshole,” you mutter to yourself, but you’re already flipping your phone over to see if he’s texted you.

(You won’t know this until much, much later, but Roy Kent let out a loud and regretful ‘fuck!’ as soon as he was five floors down, absolutely cringing at the idea that he used a line like that on someone like you. It plagued him for three years straight.)

PRESENT DAY. (EARLY AUGUST, 2023)

On a day when Roy not only had the strangest interaction of his life with Jamie Tartt in the Boot Room, but he also found out that Trent fucking Crimm would be lingering around all season, he was sure that he was done with surprises at Nelson Road.

That quickly proved to be false, as he soon found that Ted was rounding the team up in the media room for some sort of meeting.

Roy saw Beard as he was leaving the Coaches’ Office and sent a questioning look his way. “Did I miss film on the agenda?”

Beard shook his head. “Nope. Impromptu. We just heard back.”

“Heard back?” Roy asked, watching Beard go to leave the room. “The fuck are you on about?”

Beard smiled at him in the doorway. “We got her,” he said and left with a skip in his step that Roy wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before.

They’d gotten her? Got who? 

Then it hit Roy. Oh. You. They’d gotten you.

You’d said yes. You were joining Richmond. He’d helped convince you. Despite everything, despite all that had happened and everything you two had done, you’d said yes. You were willing to work with him. You were now going to be back in his life for worse or for better. And not just back in his life, but a fucking constant in it.

Then that hit Roy. The reality of it all fucking bodyslams him and it makes his heart race. After eight years of cold-turkey no-contact, he was going to be seeing you every day. After everything he’d done. After everything you had done.

Roy realized then that he didn’t exactly consider this feeling. That he was so blindsided by Rebecca’s request and by seeing you that he didn’t even think about this. It had been hard enough to work up the nerve to confront and speak to you once. Would it feel like that all season? Had you considered this?

But then, he remembered you and how you think about every fucking angle of every situation. You definitely had thought about this. And if you were willing to push the discomfort, the awkwardness, the whatever in order to have this job, he supposed he had to be too.

Roy swore under his breath, turning away from his desk to get his head back on straight. The team was waiting for him. He could mope about this in the comfort of his own home later.

He arrived in the room just as the rest of the team was getting in. The boys were buzzing. Between the news of a potential Zava acquisition and the Trent Crimm book development, as well as whatever this was, they couldn’t seem to stop talking. Roy didn’t blame them. It was a lot for one day. 

(It’d been a lot for him too. With everyone now knowing about his break-up with Keeley, to fucking Trent Crimm, to you, he was surprised he hadn’t gone outside to scream yet. But he presumed that was coming.)

“Alright fellas, listen up,” Ted said from the front of the room, holding his hand up to get everyone’s attention. The team quieted down after a moment. “I know there’s been a lot of talk going around this week. And I know y’all are excited. But I’ve got some more news.”

“I don’t know if I can take any more,” Dani said, sending a wave of agreement through the group. “It’s hurting my head.”

Ted chuckled. “I know. Mine too. And we’re the ones who have to manage all this,” he said, motioning to Beard and Roy who stood against the wall. “But this is good news.”

Good news? That was something the team could manage.

“So, how many of you are familiar with the Women’s World Cup that happened back in 2015?” he asked, eyes scanning the crowd.

A murmur went through the team. “America won?” Colin offered. “Crazy final game that was.”

Isaac pointed at Roy. “You did some shit for Sky Sports for this Cup, right?”

As the boys began to recall this, Jaan Mas said, “Why they gave you another pundit job after that completely blows my mind.”

“Yes, Roy did do some TV work over here,” Ted answered after the laughter died down. “And yes, America won. But does anyone remember what this Cup started to be called?”

It seemed as though no one had an answer. That is, until Beard cleared his throat said, “The Summer of Fourteen, baby!”

Ted snapped at his best friend. “That’s exactly right, Coach. And despite it being the 2015 Cup, they called it that because of this woman right here.”

Ted had brought up what is perhaps the most iconic photo of you to date. It’s one of the first things to come up if you were to Google yourself, a picture that’s haunted you for the last eight years. It’s from the 2015 quarter-final. You’re mid-penalty kick against China, scowl on your face as your foot collides with the ball, blood dripping down your face from the broken nose you’d received moments before. 

(It’s certainly not the most elegant or flattering picture of you that exists, especially when your fellow teammates’ search results yielded photos of them at the ESPYs, but you still think you’ve never looked like more of a badass.)

Ted said your name smoothly as he pointed to you on the screen, annunciating all syllables. “Wildly prolific USA Women's athlete despite her rather short time in the league. And while she was always good, y’know, starting striker since she began and all that—” He chuckled, turning to look at his other coaches, who had knowing smiles on their faces. “—I don’t know. There was something in the water in 2015. Because she just became…”

Ted trailed off, looking for the word. This time, Roy found it before Beard. “A nightmare,” he said, with a suppressed yet fond sort of smile. “She was a fucking nightmare out there.”

“In a good way, of course,” Ted cleared up, earning a nod from Roy. “But, yeah. A nightmare. Wonderful teammate and fantastic playmaker, but man…” Ted trailed off with a low whistle. “We were all glad she played for our neck of the woods.”

Jamie’s hand went up. “Didn’t she just get like, hired and fired by West Ham?”

“Wonderful segue there, Jamie,” Ted said. “Because yes, that is true. She was with West Ham for a couple months. First female coach in the league. Pretty impressive stuff, and it was a pretty big deal. And then something went wrong, and they let her go.” The team made a noise of acknowledgment, all of them having seen it in the news. “And I don’t know what happened, and we probably won’t know what happened, but we knew she was too good to leave the league. Lucky for us, we need a new coach. And she needs a new job.”

There was a wide smile on his face when Sam asked, “So she will be joining Richmond?” 

“That she is, Sam,” Ted replied, earning yet another eruption of chatter amongst the group. “She’ll be joining us on Monday. And while I know you fellas will do everything you can to make her feel welcome and will show her the same level of respect that you show us up here—” Ted pointed to his coaches once more, glancing down at the computer in front of him. “—I’m going to show you why she deserves it more than us.”

A YouTube video of your highlights appeared on the big screen, going full-screen as the quick ad ended. Ted stepped back from the computer, sitting down on the stool behind him to watch along with the rest. 

Your famous 2012-France-Scorpion-Kick goal just so happens to be the first thing up and Roy’s heart nearly stops. It’d been years since he’d seen this clip and he was immediately transported back to the night you two met. A ghost of a smile unconsciously made its way up his face as he watched your body contort to flip around, and the ball soar into the net. It was a goal of pure and utter instinct. You hadn’t thought about it. You just ran in there like a maniac and knew what to do. That one gets an immediate reaction from the team.

The next one is a play you’d set up in the Quarter-Final New Zealand game, with a bunch of quick passing in the box to confuse and rattle the defense. Melanie Rivera had sent you a world-class assist for an even better goal, one that earns you the title of ‘Fox in the Box’ from the past commentator on screen. The next, an impressive goal scored after an injury you’d had in the Semi-Finals against Canada. Then, and perhaps most famously, your assist to Katie O’Connor from midfield to win the Gold. 

And they hadn’t even gotten to the World Cup yet.

The World Cup footage made up the other three-fourths of the video. It was a completely different side of you, one that had thrown caution to the wind, one that had a huge fucking chip on her shoulder, one that was just… insane. In all the best ways and meanings.

Roy’s shock of the day, though, comes after a highlight of you completely blowing past three Colombian defenders. You’d broken the fourth’s ankles with your footwork in the box for a quick goal. Footwork of yours that had been massively improved, Roy noted. And he would know, he’s the one who did it.

Arlo White’s voice filled up the room. “And yet another breakaway goal from USA’s Mean Fourteen!” The clip said. “It’s just remarkable to watch her work this year, don’t you think, Roy?”

Roy felt all eyes on him when he heard his own voice on the speakers. “I don’t know what USA would do without her,” 2015 Roy Kent said. “I’d hate to have her against me.”

It was strange for Roy to hear his own voice mock him like that. And as the team began to cheer for him, he felt a pit form in his stomach. They didn’t even know.

The highlight reel continued for another couple of minutes, and it seemed with each play, the boys became more excited about the prospect of being coached by someone like you. Beard and Ted were evidently just as ecstatic about the development, and Roy knew he had to get on board. Warp his feelings and nerves and whatever else into something resembling his team’s attitude.

After all, he was the reason you were joining.

The lights came up as soon as the video ended, snapping Roy back to reality. Ted smiled at the team. “Alright, fellas. Now, let’s get to work on the welcome party.”

The boys hooped and hollered, each of them getting up to join in whatever Ted had planned. Beard looked over at Roy as the rest filed out. 

“You think we’re ready for her?” he asked.

Roy hated the weird fucking sixth sense Beard had when it came to… well, everything. He made Roy feel like he was completely transparent. “We’re ready for her,” he replied.

Though, he wasn’t sure if he was assuring Beard or himself.

PRESENT DAY. (EARLY AUGUST, 2023.)

You sign a one-year coaching contract with AFC Richmond that Monday in Rebecca Walton’s office.

The news broke that you’d been picked up by Richmond on Friday, something that had completely come alive in the press world. Your face was plastered over all of the papers yet again, newscasters seemed to mention your name every time you turned on your TV, and social media was set on fire. Everyone had something to say about this move and the majority of it wasn’t too positive.

You tried to keep your nose out of it, knowing just how much you did not need to see people talking about you like that. The majority of the negativity was from West Ham fans, wishing Richmond ‘luck’ with the likes of you, others wishing you good riddance. 

If they knew how happy you were to be out of there, you’re not so sure they’d be as excited to let you go.

Though signings on every level in this league were typically more public affairs, ones with major press conferences and coverage, you’d requested this to be quieter. Just a few statements from the people who mattered and a pen and paper. You’d been in the media a bit too much for your liking over these past couple of months, and if you could get some exclusivity, you’d take it. 

Rebecca, thankfully, was more than happy to comply. You’d been in contact with her practically non-stop since you’d called her, and she’d been nothing but lovely to you. Each interaction with her made you feel better about this job, despite the cloud of anxiety that still hung over you.

You’re sitting in a chair opposite Rebecca’s desk when a message from Mel comes through. i always liked richmond better than west ham anyway, she says. paige and i bought shirts and will be at every game. 

A photo comes through shortly after of her three-year-old toddler, decked out in a Jamie Tartt jersey. oliver’s already got his!

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face, fingers tapping against your screen with a quick response. adorable. give him and paige a hug for me. and i’ll be freaking out so bad at every game that i’m gonna need you there anyway, so i’m holding you to that.

you’ll be incredible. knock ‘em dead, kid.

Rebecca re-enters her office before you can respond with a thank you. She’s got Coach Ted Lasso in tow, who could not be grinning brighter at you. The second you see him, you think about everything Nate had told you during your short time at West Ham, and something within you just can’t believe it. The energy of Richmond had been different as soon as you walked through the door. The good kind of different. And their manager appeared to not be an exception.

Ted greets you immediately with an outstretched hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” he says after your introduction. “I gotta tell you, we’re all mighty excited that you’re here.”

“I think I might be more excited,” you reply, and it’s an honest answer. Or at least, you’d been able to shift your nerves about the job into excitement. You’d only anxiety-thrown up once today. You figured that was an accomplishment. “Seriously. Thank you both again for the opportunity.”

“We’re just grateful you said yes,” Rebecca says. You can tell she means it. “The team’s been buzzing all week.”

The nerves return at the mention of the team, but you mentally scream at yourself to get over it. “Well, I’m just excited to get started.”

“Speaking of getting started, we should probably head downstairs,” Ted says to Rebecca. “I wanna show our new coach around a bit before practice gets going.”

“Of course, don’t let me keep you,” Rebecca responds. “I’ve got a couple more things for you to sign before you leave today, so just make sure to stop by. If you have any questions, my door’s always open, or you can ask Leslie, who you met earlier, who’s always wandering around somewhere.” Her smile gets warmer as she puts a hand on your shoulder. “And we really are pleased to have you joining us.”

You wonder for a moment how a woman like her could have ever been married to an asshole like Rupert, but you suppose that’s a story for another day. “Thank you,” you say again, a bit of that anxiety washing away. “I’m happy to be here.”

Ted leads you out of the office, his tour starting from the minute you exit. He offers a bit of insight into himself and his time at Richmond, his past two years working with Rebecca, then launches into what he knows about the history of the place (and you don’t have the heart to tell him that Rebecca had already done that when you’d arrived). 

The facility is gorgeous, but it feels a bit more lived-in and welcoming than what you remember about West Ham. Everything there was so manicured and monochromatic and sterile. Nothing about it felt like a place you’d want to work.

Richmond is the opposite. It’s bright and colorful and you can hear people laughing as soon as you step down into the lower level. While your nervousness about the team still lingers, you can feel it easing. You’ll see how long that lasts.

You’re stepping into the Coaches’ Office before you even realize it, mind too occupied with taking in your new surroundings and trying to keep up with Ted’s story. You resent the overwhelming amount of relief you feel when you realize there are only two men in the office, and neither of them are Roy. 

One is sitting with his feet crossed up on his desk and a book in his face. The other is writing on a notepad at a separate desk. You’re surprised by the speed at which both of them jump up to greet you as you and Ted enter.

“Alright, Coach, this is Coach Beard,” Ted says, and you meet Beard’s hand for a shake. “He’s one of the guys you’ll be working with this season.”

“Nice to meet you,” Beard says, nodding your way.

“You too,” you reply. Your eyes are drawn to the book he placed down on his desk and you allow yourself to grin. “I love Merlin Sheldrake.” When his brows shoot up in surprise, you shrug. “I’ve got a lot of time in the off-season.”

Beard’s eyes light up. “We’ll get along just fine.”

Your grin grows and you hear Ted’s voice from behind you. “Is that that mushroom book?” he asks. “I don’t think Beard’s ever found someone who reads that stuff too. I guess we’ve now got two Fun-guys in the group.”

You glance over at Beard. “Now it's a Fung-us.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ted’s hand come up to his mouth as he looks over at his best friend. For whatever reason, it’s clear that the two of them are trying to contain their excitement. Before you can question it, Ted places a hand on your shoulder. “Oh, you’ll fit right in here, Ace.”

The nickname catches you off guard. It’s something that you haven’t heard since your playing days, something that the commentators and pundits loved to call you. It was always a compliment when they said it, but something about the way that your new manager says it makes it sound more like a title than a name. Like that’s what you are. 

It immediately makes you feel welcome and you can feel yourself warm into their excitement.

The other man in the room, who’s been watching this interaction in amusement, steps forward to hold out his hand to you as well. “Trent Crimm.”

Now, it’s your turn to raise your brows. “You’re the writer who keeps calling me?”

A smile that could also be a cringe appears on his face. “Guilty,” he answers. “Just trying to cover all the bases for the book.”

“I get it,” you tell him. “If you still want a quote, I’d be happy to give you one. But I can’t guarantee it’s going to be clean.”

Trent chuckles. “I’ll take what I can get at this point.”

There’s a moment where you almost question what he means by that, but you brush it off. Especially now that Ted’s started talking again. “Roy's running a little late, but I’ve heard y’all already know each other, so we’re not technically missing an introduction.”

That makes you pause. You’d figured that when Roy had appeared on your doorstep he’d told at least Rebecca about your past, and that the probability he’d told the staff was high too. But exactly how much had he told them? Did they know the basics or did they know everything?

You then realize it’s Roy you’re talking about. There was no way in hell he’d told them anything more than what Ted said. That you knew each other. Maybe that things hadn’t ended smoothly. But that was it.

That, at least, gives you a bit more confidence. Ted turns to you and leads you back into the small, adjoining room you’d walked through, pointing at an almost empty desk. “That’s yours,” he tells you. “Feel free to dress it up with whatever you want, and get yourself unpacked. We’re starting practice in about fifteen minutes and Coach Beard and I gotta set some things up, but I’d like to introduce you to the fellas before you start shadowing. That all sound good?”

You grip the strap of your backpack and nod at him with a smile. “Works for me, Coach.”

Ted grins, patting you on the arm. “Glad to hear it.”

And with that, he returns to his desk, making sure to leave the door open as he leaves.

You plop your backpack on your desk and begin to empty out your things. You grab your laptop first and place it on your desk, followed by a couple of knick-knacks and photos you brought along, ones that never felt at home at your desk at West Ham. There’s a rational piece of you that knows you should stop comparing the two places, but the pettier, more aggressive side of you tells it to fuck off.

(You like to listen to that one when you can these days.)

You’re holding a photo of a baby Oliver dressed in a Women’s USA onesie when you hear someone else walk into the room. You glance over your shoulder and immediately regret it.

Roy Kent is standing in the doorway, staring at you like he completely forgot your signing day was today.

Of course, Roy hadn’t. He’d been pacing around his flat all morning because of it. It was actually why he was late to work. But he hadn’t expected to see you as soon as he walked in. In his office. Now, your office too, he supposed.

The two of you just stared at each other for a moment, much like you did when you saw each other again for the first time last week. However, it appears that you’re both acutely aware of the three sets of eyes that are on you two from the other room.

Like you’re snapping into a scene in a play, Roy’s expression rids itself of all surprise. “Coach,” he says stiffly, nodding at you.

Coach. You suddenly remember your previous conversation. It’ll be professional. Civil. I won’t let there be any issues. 

Well, if he won’t let there be any issues, you’re sure as hell not going to give him the satisfaction of causing any.

So, instead, you return his nod. “Coach,” you greet him. As he puts his things on the desk opposite yours, your heart falls into your stomach, “A-Are we…”

“Sharing an office?” he finishes for you. You nod weakly. “Yeah.”

“Oh,” you say, then awkwardly add, “Fun.”

“I’m over the fucking moon,” he deadpans.

You bite your tongue, trying not to retort too quickly to a comment like that. You look away from him and to the keys in his hand and you prepare for the small talk you’re about to force yourself to engage in. “Tough ride in?”

It seems to take him a moment to process the question. The awkwardness of it all lingers. “Something like that,” he answers. However, his gaze is stuck on the picture in your hand. “What the fuck is that?”

Your brows furrow and you glance down. So much for small talk. “This?” You hold up the photo. “Oh, this is, uh, Oliver. Mel and Paige’s son.”

“Fuck off,” Roy says in a way that’s almost inquisitive, though the relief in his voice is palpable. You try to ignore that. “I didn’t know they had a kid.”

You huff a laugh despite yourself, and a bit of weight falls from your shoulders. “You clearly don’t follow Mel on anything,” you reply, then pause. “Oh, wait. I forgot. You don’t do social media.”

“It’s a waste of fucking time,” he says, reaching out to look at the photo. When you hand it to him, he mutters, “I think Rivera would have me blocked if I did, though.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” you say honestly. You take the picture back from him and place it on your desk. Your next question comes out casual, and you can’t help but be proud of how nicely this is all flowing. “Speaking of kids, how’s Phoebe doing? And how’s Molly?”

You’re not expecting the hint of shock on Roy’s face when you turn back to him. It’s as if he can’t believe you’ve remembered his sister’s name, or his niece that you met when she was no more than six months old. You want to slap him upside the head for looking at you like that because, of course, you fucking remember that, but a knock on the door from the other room interrupts your conversation.

Trent’s standing hesitantly in the doorway, notepad in hand. “Sorry to interrupt,” he says, and he appears to be avoiding eye contact with Roy. “But if you were serious about talking, would you be free to do it tomorrow?”

You offer him a warm smile, hoping that’ll contrast Roy’s crossed arms and hard stare directed at him. “Sure thing.”

“No,” Roy immediately says. “You’re not fucking talking to him.”

Confusion takes over. “Why not?” you ask.

“Because no one’s fucking talking to him,” is Roy’s answer, firm, with no room for argument. His eyes never leave Trent. “And don’t try to fucking weasel your way into this team through someone who doesn’t fucking know any better, Crimm. You’re fucking better than that.”

You’re gaping at Roy as Trent nods at you kindly and retreats into the locker room. When you look back into the office to see if you can get some clarity from one of your other new colleagues, you notice that they’re both missing. Ted did say they had to set some things up.

You suppose that just gives you the ability to talk freely to Roy now.

“I’m sorry,” you say, whipping back to Roy who’s already facing his desk. “Has he not been given the O-K to write a book about this team?”

Roy grunts. “He has. But it doesn’t mean we’re fucking talking to him.”

“Well, doesn’t that, like, defeat the purpose of him writing a book?”

“You’re catching on.”

You lean back against your desk, folding your arms to take on Roy’s previous stance. “Oh, I see,” you say in understanding. “This is a Kent Rule.”

He doesn’t have to be facing you for you to know he rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not.”

“Oh, it’s totally a Kent Rule.” You stare at his back as he shifts his shoulders in discomfort. “You hate him, so you’re forcing the team to hate him. Enemy mine is enemy yours? That’s Kent Rule number three, if I’m remembering correctly.”

“It’s a team rule,” he states. “I’m just enforcing it.”

“Right,” you agree, though your voice says differently. “Each person here hates him so much that they allowed him to write a book here.”

Roy shakes his head with a scoff. “Fuck’s sake, I forgot how fucking irritating you were.”

“I’m not being irritating. You’re being evasive.” You only get another grunt in response. Fed up, your frustration at his lack of an explanation starts to seep into your tone. “So, what? I’m just supposed to ice that nice guy out because you say so?”

When Roy finally looks at you, he’s scowling. “He’s not fucking nice,” he says. “And you don’t know anything.”

“I don’t know anything because you won’t tell me,” you argue. 

“My word’s not good enough?”

You glare at him. “Your word hasn’t been good enough in eight fucking years.”

Roy shakes his head, almost in disbelief. “Definitely not telling you now.”

“Okay, enough,” you say, scanning the room and the hall to make sure no one’s watching the two of you. You put a hand up before he can retaliate with anything. “Look, if this is gonna work, you have to tell me things, okay? And we can’t argue here. Not here.” You motion to the office around you. “I can’t work with that shit. Alright?”

For a moment, it’s like you can look into Roy’s mind. You watch him appear to recount last week’s talk, just as you did minutes ago. Professional. Civil. No issues.

“Fine,” he finally sighs, knowing you’re right. 

“Fine,” you reply. You take a breath. “So, if he sucks and you don’t want me to talk to him, you need to tell me why. You can’t just order me around like I’m one of the guys, especially not in front of people. I’m your equal here, Roy. Whether you like it or not.”

Roy shakes his head. “You’ve always been my equal,” he says, though it’s a bit softer. “You fucking know that.”

His words leave a lump in your throat that you’re not anticipating. “Well, you’re not acting like it.”

His head tilts back, eyes falling shut. His shoulders tense up. Heavy sigh. Dear God, he really doesn’t want to tell you, huh?

And then it hits you. Oh, fuck does it hit you. He doesn’t want to tell you. 

And you get why.

Roy’s talking as soon as you open your mouth to apologize for pushing him. “The others don’t know either. I’ll tell you when I tell them,” he offers. “That’s the fucking best you’re getting from me.”

Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, so you offer a nod. “Fine,” you say softly.

The nod is returned. “Fine.”

The conversation feels finished, but there’s still one more thing you want to say. “And can we agree right here that we’re not going to argue in front of anyone? Just like you said?” you ask. “Like, if you want to pick a fight, just like, pull me into the Boot Room or something. This shit can’t affect the way we do our jobs.”

Humor slants Roy’s expression. “Boot Room fights?”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean. Not in front of the team.”

“Yeah, I got it,” he says with a nod. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

From the outside of the office, you can hear the team start to file into the locker room from their gym facility, laughing just the same as when you heard them earlier. The alone sound makes you tense up. Roy narrows his eyes at you. 

“Speaking of,” he says cautiously. “I think it might be time for your introduction. Hope you like primary school-level art done by grown fucking men.”

That takes you out of your headspace immediately. “I’m sorry, what?”

LONDON OLYMPICS. (LATE JULY, 2012.)

Mabley Green. Friday. 23:30.

Wear some training gear.

I can send a car for you so you know you’re not being murdered.

You’d read the three messages you’d received two days ago from Roy Kent about a million times. While you’d replied to him that his sending a car felt very mafia boss and definitely doesn’t eliminate the murder possibility, you’d still gathered up the courage to dress up in your nicest sweats, escape from the Village after the Opening Ceremony festivities, and meet his driver on the outskirts.

(Of course, you said yes to the driver. Roy Kent was fucking loaded and if he were going to be strange and summon you places, you were going to take his free transportation.)

You’d confirmed your whereabouts and situation approximately thirty-five thousand times to Mel, who had nothing but questions for you. 

“Roy Kent. Like Chelsea’s finest, here, there, every fucking where Roy Kent?” That’s the one.

“Is sending a car for you to go to where?” I don’t know, it looks like a soccer field. 

“To do what?” Battle Pokemon. I don’t fucking know, Mel. I think he wants to train me.

“Train you or train you?” Why are you saying it like that?

“Because this has to be a weird hook-up thing that famous footballers do, right?” He made it very clear he had no interest. Also, pause. What about me says I’d fuck on a pitch?

“He could bring an air mattress.” Oh my God, I’m leaving.

But as you arrived to this completely empty field, with nobody but your overly friendly driver, Roger to back you up, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. This was weird, wasn’t it? You were meeting up with this guy you barely knew at an abandoned location just because he told you that you were an overthinker? Your mother would be absolutely horrified if she knew. You’d broken just about every Stranger Danger rule she’d set.

However, the second that you stepped out of the car to see Roy illuminated by the field lights, standing with his hood up and a bag of footballs thrown over his shoulder, you knew this was legit. And the anxiety washed away. But a few of the nerves stayed.

“Glad you showed,” he greets, turning to walk to the field as you fell into step with him.

You look over at him expectantly. “So, you are coaching me.”

“No, I’m fucking not,” he says. “I just want to get you out of your head.”

You nod in faux agreement. “Right. Because that’s not coaching.”

Roy rolls his eyes. “No, it’s not. It’s called being a nice fucking person.” 

“Right,” you say again. “Because Roy Kent is known best for his kindness.”

He turns to you. Something sparks in you when you notice that he appears to be humored by all of this. “You should be thanking me.”

“Of course. I’m sorry,” you apologize, sending him a wide smile as you two make it to the field. “Thank you, Coach.” Roy rolls his eyes again and you chuckle softly. “I’ll thank you when I know for a fact you’re not gonna murder me.”

He watches as you plop yourself down on the pitch to stretch a bit. “If I was going to kill you, I wouldn’t have brought a fucking witness.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Roger could be your Ryan Gosling.”

Roy actually laughs at that one. It’s a sound that you’d never expected to hear, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to hear it again. “I wouldn’t trust him to do that kind of driving. Chatty prick can barely get around London.”

“Hey,” you chide. “He was very nice.”

“He’s fucking incredible. Been with him since my Sunderland days. Still a chatty prick.”

You can’t help but smile at the fondness that’s crept into his voice, but you say nothing about it. You bring your knee to your chest in a stretch and look up at him. “So, what’s the plan here, Coach?”

“Not your coach.”

“Right, sorry. What’s the plan here, Zodiac?”

Roy shakes his head, fighting to keep his lips even. “I want to make a deal with you.”

“A deal?” you ask. “What kind of deal?”

“I’ll train with you until your team's out,” he says. “Whenever our match schedules align, we can figure out a time to do shit until you need to go home.”

Your smile turns cocky. “And if we win?”

He practically snorts. “You’re not going to win.”

“But if we do?”

“Then we’ll train until then,” he replies. “And I’ll give you whatever you fucking want.”

You’re not sure what that entails, but anything you want from Roy fucking Kent? It’s an offer that may be too good to pass up. But still, one question lingers. “In exchange for what?”

“What?” he asks.

You stand, lifting one of your feet from the ground so that you can pull it up behind you in another stretch. “A deal works two ways. Exchanging goods or services and all that,” you tell him. “What’s in it for you?”

Roy shrugs. “I need to train too,” he answers. It's a bit simple, a bit evasive. “That’s what’s in it for me.”

“Oh, c’mon,” you say, “you can’t be serious. You want to train with me just to train?”

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Nothing,” you respond, slowly realizing he’s serious. “I guess I just kind of assumed when I heard ‘deal’ that you’d want something in return.”

“Well, that’s all I fucking want,” he tells you. “If I think of anything else you can do for me, I’ll let you know.” 

A mix between a scoff and a laugh escapes you. “I’ll be anxiously anticipating your demands.”

He’s turned to his bag of footballs and crouches to grab one, glancing up at you as he rises. “So?” he asks. “Do we have a fucking deal, or what?”

Your foot goes down as you look at him, evaluating him and his offer. You shift your gaze to the field, to the big lights around you, then to the night sky that tells you it’s almost the next day. 

You have a game in Glasgow again tomorrow against Colombia. You’re out past curfew and know your team would both kill you and congratulate you if they knew where you were. You have to be on a bus in less than eight hours. 

But here’s Roy Kent, standing with you on an abandoned pitch in London, offering to train with you. And what kind of idiot passes that up?

“Deal,” you agree, taking the ball from his hand. “Now, where do we start?”

(mini!) TAGLIST: @tegan8314, @csigeoblue, @confessionsofatotaldramaslut

#roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent fanfiction #ted lasso #aatwe #aces #the one who can't walk up stairs

[heavyhitterheaux]

Harlowchella

First Lady of Private Garden Instagram AU

Requested by: the treacherous twin @harlowsbby 💖

Liked by jackharlow, saweetie, urbanwyatt, jessicakelce, blancahood, estgee, champagnepapi, lolabrooke, and 3,962,051 others

y/ninsta: guess where we're on our way to? 👀

saweetie: the matching bracelets have me MELTING 😭

y/ninsta: saweetie hubby got them for all five of us

jackharlow: two of my favorite girls. daddy loves you both

y/ninsta: jackharlow lmao shut up

jackharlow: y/ninsta Ivy, Axel, and Autumn weren't the only ones calling me daddy last night, don't act brand new smh

quiiso: here they asses fucking go

urbanwyatt: quiiso same shit, different day lmao

y/ninsta: jackharlow can you be serious for once in your life please? smh

jackharlow: I can literally count on one hand how many times I've been serious, when I asked you to be my girlfriend, when I asked you to marry me, when we got married, and when you made me a father. other than that... nope.

y/ninsta: yall see what I have to deal with? smh

jessicakelce: and I can vouch for that, jackharlow been wild since high school and following y/ninsta around like a lost puppy

jackharlow: jessicakelce and?!? yall not going to get on me for simping over my wife

druski2funny: where yall goin?!?

y/ninsta: I'm going going back back to Cali Cali

allthingsy/n: aww to support her mans as he performs at coachella! we love a supportive couple

jackandy/naremyparents: can't wait until y/n starts performing again, we miss her!

jackharlowsource: jackandy/naremyparents agreed! and the only time we got a little performance was her diss track to dani and drama and that was months ago

allthingsy/n: oh I forgot about those lying ass bitches smh like she really cut them both off and doesn't mention anything about them which I get because I can imagine that it still hurts. her and dani were inseparable

jackandy/naremyparents: but moving on! still can't believe that their someone else's parents other than mine 😭😭😭

jackharlowsource: I wonder if Jack will bring her out on stage, he needs to do it for the Harlow stans because we are DESPERATE to see her

jackharlow: 👀

jackharlowsource: what those eyes mean sir? you planning something? SPILL IT!

Liked by y/ninsta, jackharlow, urbanwyatt, blancahood, softtcurse, jackharlowsource, traviskelce, calumhood, privategarden, and 1,003,489 others

jessicakelce: she said I could say something about it so here goes! here supporting our baby at her first performance since becoming a momma to three beautiful angels. we are so so proud of you and can't wait to see you kill it on stage tomorrow 💕

jackandy/naremyparents: THEY'RE BOTH PERFORMING!?!?!?

allthingsy/n: I'm so excited that I'M ABOUT TO THROW UP

jackharlowsource: IT'S HAPPENING! THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL! I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL! JACK AND Y/N ARE BOTH PERFORMING AT COACHELLA!!!!

y/ninsta: thank yall for being here with me, just like in high school some things never change. been the realest since day one and I'm so happy we're reunited again.

blancahood: y/ninsta wouldn't have it any other way, you know we always got your back, but for now... SHOTS!

y/ninsta: blancahood jackharlow has the babies soooo pass them my way!

jackharlow: yall better not get my wife drunk

jessicakelce: jackharlow you worry too much! we'll bring her back in one piece! we know better because we cannot leave you in charge with three babies by yourself so I know privategarden is there at the hotel helping your ass. you would fall apart without your wife

jackharlow: jessicakelce I'm tired of you always calling me out

urbanwyatt: of course we're here and jackharlow is trying not to lose his mind without her. I'm getting flashbacks from when she went on that girls trip

yungskylark: urbanwyatt DO NOT BRING UP DARK TIMES

neelamthadhani: yeah because I thought we were all going to die

quiiso: and the fact that neelamthadhani bought jack a plane ticket and was like please go see your wife so you can stop getting on everyone else's nerves 😭

shloob_: oh shit and remember when y/ninsta spotted him at the beach house?!? jack was like 'hey babe! funny running into you here'

2forwoyne: lmaooo her ass was PISSED

normani: we were all thoroughly confused lmao and y/n was just looking at him in disbelief before he proceeded to take her upstairs and fuck her brains out.

theestallion: typical Harlow behavior

jackharlow: that was in the past and yall need to let it go smh

2forwoyne: jackharlow but how you're acting tonight isn't because once again we feel like we're about to die and she's only 20 minutes away

y/ninsta: aww do my babies miss me?

jackharlow: YES I MISS YOU, HURRY UP AND COME BACK

y/ninsta: jackharlow not you, the triplets!

jackharlow: y/ninsta YOUR BIG BABY MISSES YOU AND I NEED SOME ATTENTION

jessicakelce: jackharlow YOU GET HER ALL THE TIME, CAN'T WE HAVE HER FOR ONE DAMN NIGHT?!

jackharlow: jessicakelce no.

jessicakelce: 🙄

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, lolabrooke, champagnepapi, nlechoppa, estgee, geazy, privategarden, 2forwoyne, and 4,754,092 others

y/ninsta: yall ready for Harlowchella? Because me and hubby jackharlow ready to step on yall fucking necks

jackharlowsource: WE'RE READY SIS! I GOT MY SNACKS AND I'M READY TO SHAKE MY ASS!

jackharlow: my favorite position to have you in to fuck that throat of yours

y/ninsta: JACKMAN, PLEASE 😭

jackharlow: y/ninsta what I say?!? wait until both of our sets are over so you can get this work

urbanwyatt: so that means I'll be on babysitting duty again tonight smh

jackharlow: urbanwyatt for just a few hours and then we'll come and get them

y/ninsta: jackharlow I literally cannot take your fucking ass anywhere because you don't know how to act

2forwoyne: I second this

urbanwyatt: he hasn't known how to act around her since we were fourteen

claybornharlow: y/ninsta little baby has arrived

jackharlow: claybornharlow good, we got another baby sitter so I can hit the back of her throat for a longer period of time

sza: jack please lmaoooooo

y/ninsta: claybornharlow hiiii little baby, Autumn was missing you. she saw your picture and all she kept trying to say for the rest of the day was your name. it came out as Tay, but I obviously knew what she meant lol

claybornharlow: y/ninsta my little babies miss me jackharlow how your kids love me more than you tho?

jackharlow: claybornharlow imma kick your ass but who is currently cuddled up on me? AUTUMN. she not thinking about you

claybornharlow: jackharlow once she sees me, you'll be an afterthought

jackharlow: y/ninsta get him before I do

y/ninsta: jackharlow claybornharlow will you two behave?!

druski2funny: this man doesn't let up but ummm y/ninsta I can take you off his hands any time

y/ninsta: druski2funny aren't yall life partners? at least you were convinced that you two were

jackharlow: no me and druski broke up, jaysontatum is my life partner now

druski2funny: jackharlow but you were the one out here cheating!

jackharlow: druski2funny with who?! my actual wife who has my last name? make it make sense

lilnasx: druski2funny give it up already

dualipa: come sit on my face please

jackharlow: dualipa only face she's sitting on is mine, you know better

Liked by y/ninsta, urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, generationnow, champagnepapi, jaysontatum, quiiso, 2forwoyne, and 6,903,461 others

jackharlow: Harlowchella Part 1 with yours truly

y/ninsta: absolutely killed it baby, so proud of you! and so were our babies! they saw you and couldn't stop smiling. love you smush.

jackandy/naremyparents: WHO CUTTING ONIONS UP IN HERE?! 😭

saweetie: okay little brother, I see you

jackharlow: y/ninsta love you more than you know

y/ninsta: jackharlow but not more than I love you

2forwoyne: OKAY ENOUGH, WE GET IT. YALL LOVE EACH OTHER.

y/ninsta: 2fo is just mad because I didn't get a chance to make him a pound cake last weekend

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta because jackharlow was too busy eating your cakes

urbandjack24: lmaoooo AYE YO!

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt and what about it?!

jackharlow: Bon Appetit 😏😏😏😏

softtcurse: y/ninsta you better watch it before he impregnates you again lmao

y/ninsta: softtcurse HE BETTER NOT

jackharlow: y/ninsta imma put 5 in you this time so we can get to 8 and then we're done

y/ninsta: jackharlow WHO THE FUCK IS CARRYING FIVE AT ONE TIME? I CARRIED THREE AND THAT WAS ENOUGH. GET SOMEBODY ELSE TO DO IT. (but if you get someone else pregnant imma hurt you)

jackharlow: you'll look so gorgeous though and you know I'm not getting anyone else pregnant but you

y/ninsta: jackharlow and won't be able to walk. absolutely not. I could barely get around with three. I'm good.

jackharlow: y/ninsta fine, how about twins this time?

y/ninsta: jackharlow NO MULTIPLES

normani: you said that last time and ended up having triplets, make it make sense

jackandy/naremyparents: she was a baddie pregnant though, not that she wasn't already but pregnant y/n will forever have me in a chokehold

dualipa: make me a step mommy again

y/ninsta: WHY THE HELL DO YALL WANT ME TO HAVE ANOTHER BIG HEADED CHILD THAT LOOKS LIKE JACK AGAIN?! I JUST HAD THREE! ARE YALL HOES NOT ENTERTAINED ENOUGH?

jackharlow: outta pocket wifey and my head is not that big, I'll show you a big head

jessicakelce: y/ninsta but Ivy looks like you, Axel is a mix of both of you and Autumn looks like Jack but acts like you and I am definitely down to be an aunt again

blancahood: BRB planning the baby shower

y/ninsta: NO NO AND NO

Liked by jackharlow, generationnow, yungmiami, saweetie, jessicakelce, 2forwoyne, blancahood, and 10,869,114 others

y/ninsta: full circle moment and I just have to say how proud that I am of myself. the little girl from the southside of atlanta made it to coachella. I never thought in a milliion years that this would be my life, but here we are. fine ass husband, three adorable babies, the greatest parents on the face of this earth, and best friends who always want to see me win. to my beautiful fans, thank you, thank you, thank you, now let me finish before I start to cry 💖

Your girl has now officially returned

saweetie: not your ass having me up here getting teary eyed

saweetie: I love you so very much and it was only right for me to give you your flowers. I am always going to be here for you and I always want to see you win. my best friend is the SHIT!

y/ninsta: saweetie and here come the tears 😭😭😭

jackharlow: my baby girl, killing it like always. proud to be your husband.

y/ninsta: jackharlow proud to be your wife.

2forwoyne: our queen has OFFICIALLY returned!

urbandjack24: TRIPLETS WHERE?!? YALL SEE THAT BODY?!

jackandy/naremyparents: SHE FUCKING ATE AND LEFT NO GOT DAMN CRUMBS YASSSS MRS. HARLOW FUCK.IT.UPPPPPP!!

lilnasx: my baby did that!

allthingsy/n: HARLOWCHELLA!!!!!!!!!!!

druski2funny: soooo you gonna twerk on me like that?

jackharlow: druski2funny you just had to say something outta pocket. cut the fucking shit now.

claybornharlow: so proud of you!!

jessicakelce: AHHHHHHH YOU DID THAT MAMAS!

saweetie: and for people who keep asking why some of her closest friends call her Latto or Big Latto is because she always talked about winning at everything in her life and her angel number is 777 which she has a tattoo of. it's short for lottery and she definitely hits the jackpot with everything that she does. like I still remember when we first met and me and jackharlow trying to convince her to release her music, and now look at her!

urbanwyatt: go best friend!! yall better put some respect on her name

2forwoyne: watched her prepare for this for awhile and still get blown away every time I see her perform

yungskylark: and to think that she only wanted to write music, and now look

y/ninsta: PG, my day ones, I love yall bad and yall can always make my heart go boom. so blessed to have yall in my life and don't want to have it any other way. all jokes aside, thank you for being amazing friends to me and always helping to see what's important in life and protecting me.

shloob_: damn, y/n is usually always the one to cry, but now it might be me

blancahood: you kill it every damn time

y/ninsta: saweetie I love you so much bestie and thank you for always being there for me even if I get on your nerves sometimes lmaoooo

saweetie: y/ninsta never leaving your side. we in this shit for life 😘

urbanwyatt: you know we're going to protect you until the end of time

quiiso: we have no hesitations to beat someone's ass over you lmao

y/ninsta: quiiso and that goes both ways lol

Liked by y/ninsta, privategarden, theshaderoom, coachella, champagnepapi, blancahood, urbanwyatt, softtcurse and 9,204,761 others

jackharlow: so proud of my wife. you killed it baby 🥺

She was so nervous and didn't think she was ready, but I assured her that she was. I could tell how much she missed performing and I know how much it meant to her. so what better way for the queen to come back then on the coachella stage?

bottom line: my wife a baddie

Harlowchella was a success

y/ninsta: POOKIE, I LOVE YOU 😭

jackharlow: y/ninsta love you more than anything mamas

jackandy/naremyparents: we love a supportive husband. we stan, we stan, WE STAN

urbanwyatt: and she pushed herself harder than ever to prepare for it and it definitely paid off

jackharlow: she made everyone in the damn house go vegan for three months smh

2forwoyne: oh. what I was eating was vegan?

quiiso: 2forwoyne we know your dumbass don't care what it is as long as she makes it for you

saweetie: and jackharlow was calling me complaining about how he needed for me to sneak real food into the house because he was hungry smh and urbanwyatt too lmao

blancahood: saweetie LMAOOOO my mans was going through it!

jackharlow: saweetie your best friend was starving me smh

y/ninsta: jackharlow I was not! weren't you the one to say eating pussy every day keeps the doctor away? YOU GOT FED PLENTY

sza: well shit

normani: his dumbass would say some shit like that

jackharlow: I plead the fifth

dualipa: feed me next, please. but on a serious note, I'm very proud of you and all that you've accomplished in such a short time.

jackharlow: dualipa she's not feeding you a got damn thing smh

urbanwyatt: yeahhhh vegan isn't for me and I learned the hard way with being her test taster for everything smh

2forwoyne: urbanwyatt then stop being so damn greedy smh

jackharlow: 2forwoyne I KNOW FOR A FACT YOUR ASS ISN'T TALKING SMH you worse than my damn kids. you hear a package opening and your ass SPRINTS to the kitchen on some usain bolt type shit.

yungskylark: I was about to say the same thing lmao

2forwoyne: no 2fo slander will be tolerated smh

y/ninsta: jackharlow look now. I cannot have your big ass head on my chest along with two of your spawns while you hold the other one. YALL ARE HEAVY.

jackharlow: y/ninsta look they wanted you so I had to come through for my babies and we are NOT heavy!

normani: jackharlow I know you've seen how big your head is in the mirror, stop playing

jackharlow: normani CUT IT OUT

y/ninsta: jackharlow I know otherwise, but I vote you to be the one to wake them up so we can get ready for our flight later... at 3 am.

jackharlow: y/ninsta WHAT BY MYSELF?

y/ninsta: jackharlow urbanwyatt will help you. I carried them for 33 weeks, it's literally the least you can do. I'm sleepy.

urbanwyatt: now why am I in it?

jessicakelce: lmaoooo the definition of get somebody else to do it

jackharlow: y/ninsta imma get you back for that, just watch🙄

Taglist:

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@awhore4moree

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x you #jack harlow fanfiction #first lady of pg

[plexivie]

for me?

"cmon get your ass up now."

Today you're training with Bakugou. And surprisingly, he is a great sparring partner. He always pushes you to do better and makes sure you are not slacking off.

He is pretty cute too. You've always had a tiny deniable crush on him. He's almost perfect. His hair, his eyes, his strength. It's amazing. But you knew he would never like you. You were... average. You weren't as pretty as some of the other girls, not as strong. But, over the years, you kind have gotten used to it. Others being better than you doesn't affect you anymore. That's why training with Bakugou isn't bad at all.

"c'mon idiot. I don't have time for you being lazy as hell."

You did as he said and got up into a fighting stance. Your quirk wasn't the strongest, but hey, you got into UA.

You two were practicing behind the UA dorms. It was a quiet, empty place back there.

You guys were fighting, hard. He was blowing explosions every chance he got. It was all going well until you fell... 30 feet to the ground.

You've never screamed so loud in your life. Before you could reach the ground, you passed out.

"shit"

Bakugou ran to catch you. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he let you get hurt like that. Luckily, he caught you, but when he saw you were passed out, he was scared.

"tsk idiot."

He carried you to Recovery Girls office, just to fix any injuries that may have happened. He waited forever for you to wake up. The quirk made you sleep for too damn long. But once he saw your eyes fluttering the tiniest bit, he was there waiting for you.

You groaned. You had the WORST headache. You felt like everything was spinning, until you saw him. He made everything feel more, calm.

"shit are you okay?"

You never expected him to want to know if you were okay.

"yea I think so."

He let out a breath of relief.

"good, I wouldn't know what I would have done with myself if I let you get hurt."

He looked away.

"thanks"

You were so happy how sweet he was being. You've never seen him like this before with.... anyone.

"be... safer next time, got it?"

You nodded.

"why do you care about my safety so much anyways?"

You were expecting a snarky answer but no, you got

"because I like you idiot."

You were never so surprised in your life. Me? Why would he like me? I'm nothing special.

"me? why?"

He looked annoyed by this.

"what do you mean why. there's nothing not to like about you. I like how you give me a challenge. especially when training. that shit... makes me happy or whatever."

He blushed a bit, and so did you.

"you really think that about me?"

He just nods. Maybe out of embarrassment.

"yea idiot"

You smile and look away. I don't know what made you say this but

"I like you too. like a lot. I just didn't think you ever like me back."

He scoffed.

"I don't know why but whatever. anyway, let's go. I've been sitting in this shitty office for hours waiting for your ass to wake up, so c'mon."

You got up a little dizzy, but you could manage.

"let me... hold your hand or whatever. I don't want you to hurt yourself again."

You've never smiled more in your life. His hands were so warm and comforting.

You guys had already started walking back. While you guys were walking you could tell he had something to say.

"hey, you look like you have something on your mind."

He just looks away.

"Yea I guess."

"well, what is it?"

He just stops walking and turns to you. He doesn't say anything to you at all he just... kisses you. The walk back was silent until you reached your dorm door.

"hey I was wondering if you would want to come hike with me tomorrow or whatever."

You nodded happily smiling.

"great."

He then started walking away again until he stopped and turned around to face you.

"stay safe for me ok?"

You smiled happy as ever.

This was a fun write. Let me know if any of you want more! (pls repost for me <3)

#mha #mha bakugou #mha fanfiction #mha fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #fem reader #fluff #my hero x reader #my hero fanfic #bhna x reader #cuteness #adorable

[copperbadge]

[ID: Three images; top left, the entryway to my kitchen, with half-scraped tape on the floor, a paint scraper nearby, and lots of dirt. Polk supervised me but I didn't get to take a picture of her doing it, so top right is an old picture of her in her Supervising Spot, next to her favorite sign that reads CHICKEN WAFFLES. Bottom, the kitchen welcome mat, an orange and black patterned mat, is back in place where the half-scraped tape was previously.]

Today is a good object lesson in why NaClYoHo uses media as timer!

I made a list of things I wanted to do this morning; I save big/gross jobs for the weekend, so today's list was to clean under the kitchen "welcome mat", scrub the kitchen floor, go through the house spackling small holes (picture hanging mistakes, etc), and dust the various blinds in anticipation of (possibly) pulling them up and hanging curtains in their place at a later date.

What I got done: cleaning under the welcome mat.

When I installed my rugs I put down double-sided tape, which proved to be a mistake; it's super difficult to get the tape up once it's down. But once you've pulled a rug off it, it becomes an immediate filth trap, so I had to do it. I sprayed with dilute vinegar, then goo gone, then an initial scrape before pulling the goo gone up with Grease Lightning, then repeat...

The real problem was that it's uncomfortable to kneel on the floor even with a pad, but if I crouch or bend, when I straighten I get a head rush so bad I almost pass out (thanks Adderall). I legit stood up twice and then immediately sat down in case I lost consciousness. So it took me an hour and a half to scrape and clean an area roughly a meter square. I got through an entire hour-long episode of The Worst Idea Of All Time and almost all 24 minutes of The Allusionist episode on Complex PTSD.

Now, if I had spent this whole time going "Oh shit, I've got so much else on the list to do today!" I would have freaked out at both how long it was taking and how much effort it was. But I knew that once I crossed that "the podcast has ended" line, that was all the work I had to do today. The rest of it can be moved to another day. So I did an hour and a half of fairly intensive physical cleaning, and now I'm done until tomorrow. (Even if I did also steam-mop the kitchen, since I had the steamer out anyway, and then took out the kitty litter trash on my way out the door.)

Anyway, the area under the mat is now clean, free of any possible weevils, and lightly sprayed with Super 77 art adhesive to keep the rug in place, and hopefully that will at least be less of an issue to pull up in the future. We'll probably find out when I, like a fool returning to his folly, attempt this again next year.

Disposable nitrile gloves used total: brought it up to four today! (I used three -- one on each hand, and tore the one on my right hand so had to replace it.)

Trips to the hardware store: Holding steady at 2. I will need to make my first run to the Container Store soon however, I think.

#naclyoho #national clean your home month #dearborn and polk

[burrowbaddie]

With You

Joe Burrow x Female Reader

Series Summary: Childhood friends to lovers to nothing. You and Joe had history, you were each others first and then you were nothing. Years later, you guys rekindle the flame but with more obstacles in the way this time.

Chapter 4 Summary: You and Joe are expecting, the unexpected.

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: Afab!reader, smut, swearing. Oral (female & male receiving), vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cheating! (You are the side girl, sorry.), the small fight scene, jealous Joe, mild violence, stalker

Series Masterlist

Joe follows Nicole to the bedroom, where she picks out one of the outfits laid on the bed.

"Nicole!" Joe shouts, slamming the door behind him.

"You really think I have enough time to follow you and you're side bitch around."

"Don't call her that. You're out of line."

"Oh, but that is what she is. A side bitch. A side hoe."

"You are so delusional, Nicki. I broke up with you. This pretend play you have me doing isn't real. She is my girlfriend. You're nothing."

"I'm the mother of your child."

"And I barely believe that," Joe whispers. Nicole drops her heels on the floor, stunned by his words.

"You are an asshole. You are such a piece of shit. You think I would pretend to have your child."

"Nicole, you're acting crazy. Forcing me to be with you. Threatening Cheeks, so yeah, I think you are capable of pretending to be pregnant."

Nicole storms to the bathroom and slams the door behind her. Joe stands outside, listening to her use the toilet. When she emerges from the bathroom, she shoves a positive pregnancy test into his hands.

"Nicki, what are we doing? Do you really think we can raise a child together?"

"It doesn't matter because I'm taking you to court for everything you have."

Joe throws the stick into the trash rolling his eyes. Nicole was so hellbent on ruining his life that she couldn't see how ridiculous she looked. Nicole left the house, leaving Joe to his thoughts. He tried waiting for your call all day, but by 4 pm, he was blowing your phone up.

"Joe, you have to stop."

"I had to make sure you were okay."

"I'm okay. I'm at work now. I'll call you tomorrow." You whisper, hanging up. Mya gives you a smirk as you go into the emergency meeting that had been called earlier today. You sit in the back, listening to the medical director call attention to the meeting.

"I will let Dr.Brian take it from here," Max says, stepping aside.

"As you guys know, my mother is very sick. With that being said, I'm stepping down on a leave of absence to go back home and care for her. I've gone back and forth about who should be the interim chair of the emergency department. I sat down and ran through many scenarios, and ultimately, the board and I agreed. I've trained this girl since she was in college. It is my honor to have her temporarily sit in my chair while I'm gone."

You completely zone out hearing your name. You look around the room at the smiling faces and people applauding you, but you can't move.

"Come up here and accept your title."

You stand up, making your way to the front, smiling nervously. Dr.Brian hugs you, and you nod, agreeing to the position. It's only six months, so you can do it. After 15 minutes of accepting compliments, you go to the break room to let it all sink in.

"That's cool. I mean, you just became a full fledge doctor and already a chair member. What did you do to earn that?" Mya asks, leaning on the lockers. You put your phone down and stare at her.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Do you honestly think people aren't talking already? You're the youngest member by far."

"I've been working hard. Dr.Brian has known me since I did an internship with him during my freshman year and every year after. I graduated early. I completed med school and my residency early. I also passed the board with flying colors. My work ethic speaks for itself."

"I'm just telling you what people are thinking. You fucked him, and that's how you got that spot."

"Mya, What is your issue? Why would I do something like that? He's a married man."

"Lol, says the girlie fucking Joe Burrow."

"Mya?"

"Sorry, okay. I'm frustrated. Mike thought that position was going to be his. He talked all last night about it."

"Oh gosh. Mike-"

"Things were finally going better for us. With this job, I thought he could-"

"He's an asshole, My. He doesn't even claim you when we all hang out."

"Because we are not allowed to date in the same department. Look, all I'm saying is that people will talk about this. You're young and hot-"

"And a female. So, of course, everyone would assume I slept my way to get here." You slap the locker close and grab your bag off the bench, leaving Mya alone. You first visit your parent's house to share the news.

"Omg! My sweet baby! This is amazing. I cannot wait to tell the ladies down at church!" Your mother holds you tight, rocking you side to side; your father claps to the side. It doesn't take long for your mother to share the news with Robin.

"We have to organize a dinner to congratulate you. We will invite family and close friends. We have to celebrate this huge achievement!" Your mother is rushing to her computer room before you can complain. Your father wears a proud smile, pulling you into a hug.

"My baby girl. I am so proud of you. I know you don't want to be celebrated, but let your mother have this." Your dad laughs. You nod your head. You share the news with Quinn and Fran, who are both over the moon for you. Quinn also wants to plan a party, but you direct her to your mother. And finally, you decide to let Joe in on your news.

"Baby, that's amazing. I am so proud of you. We should celebrate."

"Right now, I just want to lay in bed and let it soak in." You laugh, leaning on the wall and staring at your parents in the dining room.

"Hmm. Can I join you?"

"Joey, we shouldn't be seen with each other. Not until-"

"I know, but it's killing me. I'll come late in the night."

"Okay." You whisper. And late in the night, Joe is holding you in his arms, whispering how much he loves you. You kiss his lips while playing with his ears, giggling at each word.

"You are everything I have ever wanted. I promise things will get better for us. Nicole means nothing to me."

"She's having your baby, Joe. We can't ignore this matter."

"I know. And I will be a great father to my child. I am more than capable of co-parenting."

You close your eyes as he kisses your forehead. You want to believe him and every sweet word he tells you, but there is something in your gut telling you to let Joe go. But you don't. You can't let him go, and neither can he. The next few days consist of you coming home to Joe and living your perfect domestic life. He sits on the counter watching you cook in nothing but his jersey.

"Let's move in together."

"Joseph."

"I've been looking at places; plus, it's a gated community, and you won't have to worry about this stalker," Joe says, eating some popcorn.

"How would that look in the tabs? Superstar Joe leaves his pregnant girlfriend to live with his mistress. That sounds like an amazing headline, babe." You turn around, crossing your arms. Joe pouts, and you walk over, taking place between his legs. Joe bends down and kisses your nose, then your lips.

"I just want you safe. If this is Nicole on her bullshit, I don't know what she will do."

"I'm okay. I want you to focus on this season and getting that ring."

Joe smirks and slowly lifts your jersey.

"You know when I get my ring; you'll have to marry me. You promised, remember."

"That was 6th grade."

"And I remember that promise. You said once I win the Superbowl, you become my wife. I plan to do exactly that." He kisses your lips and caresses your ass. You moan into the kiss, which only excites Joe, who hops down from the counter, scooping you up.

"Joe. I'm cooking. Calm it down." You laugh while he throws you over his shoulder. You guys had just finished a steamy shower session not too long ago, and the boy was ready for me. You slap his back until he puts you down. After dinner, Joe tells you he has to get going. He promises to call you before bed.

The next few weeks are pretty busy for both of you. You are starting your direct training to take over as chair, and Joe is training during the offseason. Mya has apologized for her comments, but her behavior still offended you. Mike, her boyfriend but not her actual boyfriend, has been giving you absolute hell. The comments other nurses and doctors make don't go unnoticed. You try your best to ignore them. Today, the news station is coming to interview the hospital about its recent clinic opening. Dr. Brian lets you sit in your first assignment as the chair. You're super nervous as the makeup team works. You stare at your notes when the door opens to Nicole. It feels like the air leaves the room as she takes her place in a chair across the room. This will be your first interaction with her since finding out about you and Joe.

"Can you give the interviewee and me some time alone? I want to get a feel of her before we get rolling." Nicole smiles and laughs as the makeup team and her assistant leaves. she gets up from the chair and stands behind you. Her green eyes stare into the mirror at yours. She touches your hair and smiles.

"I have no idea what he sees in you. You are not prettier than me." Nicole clicks her tongue. You've dealt with plenty of Joe's groupies before, so her words don't sting.

"Congrats on the baby." You whisper.

"Of course, he told you. And you still want to see him."

"Having a baby with him isn't going to make him stay. You do know that, don't you?"

"Oh, miss little know it all. I know that, but I will not let Joe have his happy ending. If you think I will let you two run off happily in the sunset, you have another thing coming. Keep seeing Joe, and just like I told him, I have no problem ruing yours or his career. So soak in that little promotion of yours because it will be your last, bitch."

You take a deep breath and stand up. Nicole stands slightly taller than you because of her heels, but you stare her down.

"Nicole, I'm not afraid of you. If you think you're the first girl to threaten me because of Joe, you have no idea what you're up against. At the end of the day, Joe will never ever love you. Once you get that through your thick ass skull, I promise you will be able to let go. Now, sit your ass back in your chair and get ready to put on your interviewing skills to work, Miss Cinncinati." You brush her shoulders off and walk to open the door but pause.

"By the way, you're lucky you're pregnant because if you ever called me out of my name outside your nine-month window, I'd punch you in the fucking mouth. We're ready!" You say, swinging the door open. The crew comes back to finish up. You show Nicole around the new clinic and discuss what to expect when it opens soon.

"There you have it, folks! The new clinic is set to open in the fall of this year. Thank you for showing us around." Nicole smiles at you as the director counts down. You wear a smile as well and turn just as cut is yelled. Both of you stop smiling. Nicole storms off to her trailer, slamming her door. You giggle and walk over to your new assistant, Liv.

"What is her issue?"

"Not sure. Since we are done here, let's grab some lunch on me!" You tell her. You guys have lunch at your favorite diner, where you order your usual meal: pancakes and eggs. Liv orders a burger with onions. As you take a first bite, you get a whiff of her onion burger and gag.

"Do you not like onions? Omg, I should have asked. Is it making you sick?"

You shake your head but gag again. You shoot up from your seat and run to the bathroom. With your head in the toilet, Liv finds you to help.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just-I don't know. The smell hit me, and my stomach turned. YOu finish up and take the rest of the day off. I will go get myself together. Probably just a stomach bug." You say, giving her a thumbs up. But it's not just a stomach bug. You sit on the tub in your bathroom with the three positive pregnancy tests. You immediately call your gyn.

"I have the IUD, so it can't be-"

"It happens. I have a spot open at 4. Come in. If you are, we need to remove it if you want to continue with the pregnancy."

Everything blurs together as your doctor explains how far along you are and what the next steps are. You have the IUD removed and sent home to think further about your next moves. As you sit on the couch going over your possibilities, Joe calls you.

"Do you know how good you looked on the news today?"

"Thanks."

"What's wrong?" Joe asks, quickly picking up on your tone.

"Nothing. This dinner party my mom is throwing for me is coming up this weekend, and I had my first shift as the chair, so it's a lot to take in now."

"That's this weekend, damn. I have this football camp-"

"Joe, you don't have to come. I know how busy you are, and it's okay. Do your parents know about you and Nicole?"

"Uhh no, why?"

"I really don't want you to come if you have to bring her."

"I won't bring her."

"Quinn is calling me. I have to go." You switch over the line.

"Pregnant! With Joseph's baby? I'm going to be an auntie!"

"Quinn, I can't have this baby. Joe is already having a baby with Nicole."

"Do you actually believe she's pregnant? She's insane. How far are you?"

"Two months."

"Let me add Fran to the call he's calling me."

"Quinn, wait!"

Too late. You give Fran a soft smile as Quinn shares the news. Fran congratulates you and the twins; start planning your baby shower already. You decide against taking off work and go in only to be greeted with snide remarks.

"Mike, I'm really not in the mood for your nonsense. Get to work, or I will take you off shift. I'm so so serious too." You say, crossing your arms. He mumbles under his breath and walks away. Mya gives you a half smile and hands you your favorite chocolate.

"I'm sorry about before. I'm missing my best friend."

You take the chocolate giving in to her apology. Mya hugs you and tells you juicy nurse gossip from the 7th floor. She invites you out for drinks, but you decline.

"Come on! It will be fun."

"I'm pregnant, so I would just be a buzz kill."

Mya covers her mouth, trying to contain her excitement.

"Wait with J O E's baby?"

"You do know anyone in this room can spell." You whisper, pulling her out of the locker room. Mya spends the next 30 mins grilling you about it. You finally send her off to help a resident while you attend to some patients.

"Mr. Brown, again, this is the 3rd time you've ended up in my ER in the last two months. What's going on?" You ask, reading his chart. He shrugs and smiles.

"I just like seeing your beautiful face." He beams up at you with a big smile.

"As much as I appreciate your kindness, I can't have you hurting yourself."

"This time, it wasn't me." His voice drips with sorrow. Mr. Brown starts picking at his blanket. You put your gloves on and check the wound on his head. It's a nasty gash from the middle of his forehead to his right temple. You reach down and hold his hand.

"Talk to me. What's going on?"

"They stole my tent this time. They jumped me and stole everything. My wife's photos, all of it gone."

"Who?"

Mr.Brown looks away from you.

"Mr.Brown, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"These young kids. Boys. They've been terrorizing a lot of us in the community."

"Have you spoken with an officer, maybe-"

Mr. Brown shakes his head.

"They don't care about us. There is no point."

"You'll need stitches, and I'll see about your belongings."

Mr. Brown grabs your wrist before you can leave.

"I don't want to cause you any trouble. What happens outside the hospital is my concern."

"Mr. Brown, how long have I been treating you?" You ask, taking your gloves off and standing up.

"3 years, give or take." He wears a puzzled look in his response.

"Right. You are my patient whether you are in this hospital or outside. Sit tight while I have someone stitch you up." You give him a warm smile, and he holds your hand, thanking you. You grab Mya telling her you're going for a walk.

"Oh gosh! Listen, I'm all for helping the homeless, but Tent city is a ruthless land. We should at least have a guy come with us. You're pregnant now. You can't be irresponsible." Mya grabs your arm, stopping you.

"If you're scared, I'll go in alone. A lot of them know and trust me. I'll be okay. If I'm not back in 15 mins, then worry, but no cops."

"Are you-"

"15," You say, walking across the field with coffee, breakfast sandwiches, and donuts. You stop a few times to hand it out and ask around about the boys terrorizing the place. But it doesn't take long to find the rowdy boys yelling and running around. You take a seat next to the kid who is staring at the older three play around.

"Sandwich?" You offer him. The kid doesn't speak and keeps his eyes focused on the others. You look over his appearance and notice his ankle.

"How long have you had that injury? Can you take your shoe off?" You ask him. The boy continues to ignore you. Finally, the older two boys notice you.

"Get the fuck away from him!" One shouts, running over. You quickly stand and hold up your hands.

"I was just offering him some breakfast."

"And who the fuck are you, lady?"

"I'm a doctor at the hospital a few blocks from here. I come here once a week to hand out food."

"She lying. We've been here for two whole months!" The other speaks up.

"Sorry. I've had a busy schedule, so I haven't had time to come down as often." You answer while your eyes drift to the youngest kid standing up now, limping.

"You're mad pretty for a doctor."

You smile and thank him, finally introducing yourself and asking for their names.

"I'm Tate, and that's Trey and TJ. Triple Ts." Tate says, laughing. You give him a smile and nod your head.

"Are you guys siblings?"

"Nope, but blood wouldn't make us any thicker," Trey responds.

"Stop telling her so much, dummy." Tate smacks Trey upside the head. You notice TJ wince. You want to ask them where their parents are, but you must tread lightly.

"I want to take a look at TJ's ankle. If that's okay?"

"He's fine. He just needs to sleep it off. It's not like we have money to pay you, lady."

"No need to pay. It's my job to help and treat. Can I look at your ankle?" You ask TJ. He looks at the older two boys and back at you, slowly nodding his head. You have him sit down and slowly try to take off the shoe. He cries out, and you stop.

"I need to bring him in."

"No way. Hell no. You just want to send us back! Did that old hag send you for us? We're not going back!" Tate grabs TJ pulling him to his feet. Trey pulls a knife out. You slowly stand with your hands up.

"I don't know who you're talking about, but I promise you I just want to get a better look at TJ's ankle. Please. If he doesn't get treated, it could turn into an infection." You try your best to reason with the boys, but they still stand guard.

"Treat him right here," Trey says. You shake your head.

"I can't take that shoe off here. I need to cut it off. His ankle is so swollen that it's stuck. I also need to examine the foot on a machine so-"

Trey hands you the knife.

"Do it here." He emphasizes. You take a deep breath and give TJ one last pleading look. The boy cannot be a older than 12 years old. Your heart breaks for the three of them. You take the knife from Trey and attempt to cut the sneaker. TJ cries out, and you look at Tate.

"You promise you'll help him, and you won't report us?"

"Tate, how old are you?"

"I'm 18. Why?"

"That will work. Pick him up and follow me." You instruct them. The boys follow you to the hospital with Mya right behind you. Inside you quickly go to work with Trey asking you all types of questions. You answer them as you work, laughing at some.

"I want to be a doctor too, but that old hag said I was too much of a dummy."

"You're not dumb, Trey. I'm sure you will be an excellent doctor. TJ, get some rest while we wait for tests."

"I'm hungry," TJ speaks up for the first time, and you nod, telling the boys you will bring them something to eat. Tate follows you outside the room.

"Give it to me straight. How are we paying for all of this?"

"A grant, but you need to tell me where Mr.Brown's tent and belongings are. I can't help you if you're going to terrify people. It's unacceptable." You say sternly, crossing your arms. Tate sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Return it." You walk off with Mya following behind you, but before she can speak, Mike is there.

"Grant? You have no authority to the grant, especially not for those homeless little punks."

"Actually, I do have authorization as the chair. It's already been approved. Why don't you make yourself useful and clear my ED of patients who are finished with their treatment? I need beds, not your mouth."

"Fucking bitch." Mike whispers under his breath. Mya shakes her head.

"You're too hard on him. He is taking this whole thing hard."

"My promotion? He needs to get over it. I won't continue to deal with his disrespect." You walk away, unable to deal with Mya and Mike. You order some food for the boys and watch them eat and talk. The boys tell you they ran away from their foster home and have no plans to return. Tate turned 18 in January and was left to wander the world alone, so he did the only thing he knew, take his found brothers with him. You find it weird the boys haven't been reported missing, but if the foster parent is still collecting checks, why would she report them missing? You excuse yourself to make some phone calls.

"I can't just snap my fingers and pick up their case. Plus, what the older one did is illegal."

"Corey. I wouldn't be asking this of you if it wasn't important."

"I know. I know someone in that jurisdiction who might be able to get a hand in on their case and check the foster situation."

"But?"

"I am not helping you for free."

"I can pay-"

"No money. Do you still talk to Joe?"

You sigh and bite your lip. Calling your friend from high school was a bad idea.

"Sometimes."

"Get me season tickets, and you have yourself a deal." Corey cheers. You tell him to stand by while you dial Joe's number.

"Hey, baby, what's up?" He smiles, stopping his workout to give you his full attention.

"Can you give my season tickets to Corey?"

"Who is that? and why?"

"Corey Smith from honors calculus 11th grade."

"What the fuck? That's so random. Fuck that guy. No."

"Joseph, please. For me." You soften your voice, adding a pout even though he couldn't see you. But Joe could picture your face, so it didn't matter.

"Fuck. Don't use that voice. I hate that fucking guy."

"What? You were good friends in high school."

"He wanted to fuck you. I mean, who didn't? You were hot as fuck. Still are. Fuck that guy, no."

"Why are you even mad? So what he wanted to sleep with me. The only one fucking me was and still is you." You reply, making Joe smile.

"Yeah. Fine, anything for my baby. But I want something in return."

"Like?"

"Sit on my face later."

"Goodbye, Joseph, I'm at work." You hang up laughing, returning to your other line.

"It's done! You have season tickets."

"Fuck yeah! Consider the boys moved to a new caseworker and home!" Corey says cheerfully. You leave the room to share the news. TJ looks down at his new blue cast. Tate hands you a box. It belongs to Mr.Brown. You fill them in on the situation, letting them know they have to return to the foster home first. Tate is on edge at first, but you are able to get him to calm down and trust you.

"I should get a job first, but I'm not sure how to apply," Tate says, scratching his head. You smile.

"I'm glad you said that. How do you feel about being a janitor?"

"I'll do anything as long as I can work and find a place that way; maybe I can be a better example and help TJ and Trey out."

You help Tate fill out an application, and Tate returns the box to Mr.Brown, apologizing. Mr. Brown says he will look out for the boy from now on. Liv walks over, pulling you away.

"You have that meeting with Lance. It's pretty important. The board needs you to secure his donation."

"Great. I know exactly what we will do with that donation."

The day ticks down, and you almost fall face-first onto the bed when you get home. You're exhausted and very much nauseous. You force yourself to get up and shower because you know Joe will be coming over soon. Fresh out of the shower, your phone rings, letting you know Joe is either here or on his way. You wrap a towel around you and go to open the door. He gives you a cheeky grin following you inside.

"Find something to watch while I get dressed." You try to walk away, but Joe pulls you back, and you share a sweet, intimate kiss.

"Missed you all day." Joe pulls you down on his lap, and you bury your face in his neck. You lose track of time as you tell him about today. Joe makes a comment about beating Mike's ass, and you giggle. Joe has always been overprotective of you. You get off his lap and fall back on the couch.

"I'm just exhausted. My stomach is hurting. I want to sleep all day, but I have this stupid dinner my mom is throwing for my promotion. I just want to sleep on my off days!" You cry, throwing your arm over your face. Joe licks his lips, barely paying attention to your words. That's when you notice the new position. Your left leg dangles off the couch while your right sits on Joe's thigh, giving him complete access to your pussy. You try to pull the towel down, but Joe is quicker. The man is practically drooling, looking at the divine meal before him.

"Joseph, did you hear me say I'm tired?" You sit up on your elbows, warning him, but Joe is passed, paying attention to you.

"Cheeks, you don't have to do any work. Allow me to help you relieve the stress and tiredness." Joe drops down to his knees, kissing your thighs, teasing you. He places soft kisses on your cunt before spreading the lips and diving straight into his main course. Joe flattens his tongue against your clit before swirling his tongue around it. You shake and whine, trying to contain yourself.

"Not on the couch! Please!" You cry out. All in one swift motion, Joe is standing and holding you up. You quickly grab hold of his hair, unsure about this new position.

"I'll fall!" You cry, resting your legs on his shoulders. Joe mumbles something along the lines of I got you into your wet pussy. You hold on for life as he walks towards the bedroom using your direction. At one point, Joe stops and continues to eat you out in the hallway against the wall. His loud slurps can be heard echoing through the empty hallway. Joe finally takes you into the bedroom and places you on the bed. You can't believe he walked you to your bedroom without stopping his devouring of you. Joe removes his shirt and shorts and lays down, motioning you to sit on his face.

"Joe,"

"Feed me, baby." He pouts. You crawl up and hover over his face, holding the headboard for support. A smirk dances across his face, sending shivers down your spine. He asks you to keep your eyes on him, and you almost buckle immediately, staring down into those blue orbs. Joe pulls you down before you're fully ready, and you arch your back choking back a moan.

"Joe, oh gosh." You cry out, trying to lift up. Joe's voice sends vibrations through your body. It feels like electricity pulsing through you as he takes you to another plane. You try your best to maintain eye contact, but once Joe begins dipping his tongue into you, your walls break. You tug at his hair earning a delicious sound from Joe, which sends you into another orbit. Struggling to hold back anymore, you try to wiggle up. But Joe has a bruising grip on your thighs as he continues to tongue fuck you. And you finally break, soaking Joe's face. Joe doesn't stop and decides to drink every drop and push another orgasm out of your overstimulated pussy. You almost collapse, but Joe holds your waist and chuckles under you. You feel weak and light-headed. Joe turns you around so that you are on your back. He returns between your legs, giving your messy, wet pussy soft kisses. He continues making out with it for the next few mins until you sit up dizzy. Joe is completely enthralled by your whimpers and doesn't stop. He is pussy drunk, and when your eyes connect again, he winks at you. You fall back on the pillow, trying to catch your breath. Joe sits, and you stare at his glistening wet face.

"If I ever went to prison, I would want that to be my last meal." He says, lying down next to you. You toss a pillow at him, laughing. Joe pulls you into his arms, and you stare at him. You should tell him here and now and get it over with. But you can't. It feels like something is stuck in your throat.

"Cheeks? What are you thinking about?"

"Tired. Shower and then sleep." You mumble. Joe scoops you up and follows your order. The next day is spent sleeping in his arms, watching old Spongebob episodes, and enjoying time together. Joe leaves around 2 for a football camp he is helping with. When you check the mail, there is an envelope. You decide to put it on your nightstand and deal with it later. You have no doubt it's Nicole, especially after her threats. The rest of the day is spent looking at Facebook, and you come across the high school reunion page. You go to add the IG page, but you must be off private for verification, so you take it off private and send a request. And then, before you know it, it is dinner time. You greet your parents, the Burrows, and some friends as they say congrats. Fran squeezes you, and Quinn follows for a twin sandwich. You are surprised to see Joe there, but happy Nicole isn't on his arm. Joe takes your hand and leans in to kiss you, but you stop him.

"Everyone is here."

"Right. Sorry. I bought you flowers." Joe hands you the roses, and you take them, trying to hide your smile. You sit next to Joe at the table in the backyard, where everyone is seated. Your dad stands up, making a speech, and you get embarrassed as he talks about your childhood. Then your mom. Then Quinn and finally Fran.

"How am I supposed to follow up that speech? I'm proud of her, like everyone else in this backyard. She is going to do even more beautiful things. We love you! So lets us drink to this absolute babe. I mean, she can't drink, but I'll drink for her."

You freeze up and look at Quinn, praying no one caught that, but nothing gets by your mother.

"Why can't she drink?" She asks. Everyone looks at Fran.

"What? I didn't say that. I did say that. I mean, she gets insane when she drinks, you know? Alcoholics, am I right?" Fran nervously laughs. Quinn pulls him down.

"What is he talking about?" Your grandmother speaks up this time. You look for help, and Fran shoots up again.

"Look, she, umm, She is not an alcoholic."

"So what is the issue?" Your father is glaring at you.

"I'm pregnant."

The table falls silent.

"Surprise?" Quinn says.

"With whose child? You don't have a boyfriend." Your mother is standing up, completely shocked.

"Mine. It's mine." Fran stands up again, burying you deeper into this pit. You can feel Joe staring into the side of your face.

"we're dating, so there. I'm sorry I told everyone like this, honey," Fran smiles at you. You nod your head and stand up, excusing yourself. Dinner ends on a sour note. You sit in the living room, listening to your mom go on and on about how pre-marital sex is wrong. Joe stands to the side, watching everything unfold. His mind is racing a mile a min. The conversation turned to Joe when your mom asked if he knew.

"I didn't know about the baby." He replies. Your mom turns to you.

"You even kept it from Joe. I'm so disappointed." Your mother shakes her head and walks away. Your dad walks over and hugs you, letting you know he will talk to your mother. You take a deep breath and prepare yourself for the conversation with Joe.

"So, am I the last to know?"

"Clearly not." You whisper. Joe nods his head and licks the inside of his cheek.

"You should've told me as soon as you knew. I knew there was something wrong earlier. Fuck, Cheeks." Joe rubs his face.

"I was nervous. You have a baby on the way. I didn't want to give you more stress."

"Are you keeping it?"

"I have to keep it. I made a promise to myself that-that I would allow one abortion." You whisper the last part, but Joe catches it.

"What do you mean? You had an abortion before?"

"After you left for LSU, I found out-"

"You aborted my child? Without telling me? Were you ever going to tell me?"

"Joe, calm down. I-"

"How can I calm down? You should've told me!"

"I didn't want to hold you back, and I didn't want a baby!" Your grab Joe's hand, pulling him outside, away from your parent's ears. Joe snatches away and begins to pace. He can't even look at you right now.

"Stop saying you didn't want to hold me back. Our relationship ended because you gave up on us."

"Because you would have chosen me over your career."

"I would choose you over any fucking thing."

You remain quiet, letting the sounds of the hot July night feel the uncomfortable space.

"What was I supposed to do? I wanted the best for you, and I wanted my career too. How could I have made it at 20 with a child?"

"Cheeks, I would give up anything in this world to have you. If I had to get a regular job or be a stay-at-home dad while you became a doctor, I would have done it. Contrary to popular belief, football is not my first love. You are."

You didn't think Joe could make you fall more in love, but he did. Your heart skips a beat just like it did during his first-ever confession. You hold back tears as he kisses the corner of your mouth.

"I love you so much. What did I do to deserve you?" You share a kiss, and Joe chuckles against your lips. You genuinely don't know how you ended up with such an amazing man.

"We're having a baby," Joe whispers. You nod your head, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"We're having a fucking baby!" Joe shouts. You cover his mouth, laughing at his outburst. You don't need the whole neighborhood to know. After that night, your mother apologized for her outburst. It didn't take her long to start baby shopping. It felt weird keeping up the act of dating Fran but telling your parents you're carrying Joe's baby was a conversation not ready to be had.

At four months pregnant, your time was split between clinical cases and administrative duties. You promised Joe to take more administrative work, but you couldn't stay away from the ED. Football season was underway, and Joe's schedule was keeping him busy. But he was not busy enough because he called you every free second. When he wasn't on the road, Joe was home with you catering to your every need. You adored him and how he was actively preparing to become a father and reading books, watching videos, and taking classes. You loved every min of it. On the other side, things with Nicole were getting pretty serious. She was hellbent on Joe staying with her no matter how often he made it clear they were done.

"Oh my! You and Joe's child could be best friends!" Robin clapped, coming to the realization. It was Sunday night, and Joe was playing while you didn't want to attend; Mya begged you for it because it was her birthday.

"What?" Nicole looks at you, waiting for Robin to say something.

"Oh gosh. You didn't know yet? I thought Joe would've shared the news. She's pregnant too." Robin announced. You mentally slap yourself because this is not how you wanted Nicole to find out. Nicole's eyes drift to your belly. You had an oversized jacket on, Joe's jacket, and it hid your small belly pretty well. Nicole grabs Amber's hand, and they leave the section. Robin is confused, but you give her a soft smile and go after Nicole.

"Nicole, I thought Joe would've told you and-"

"You! Don't say a fucking word to me. Leave the game right now," She shouts, getting in your face. Mya approaches to calm the situation down because bystanders are looking.

"Hey, you should have this conversation in private unless you want people to know," Mya states looking at you and Nicole.

"I'm the bad guy in this situation. My boyfriend cheated on me, and in your eyes, I'm the bad guy." Nicole cries. You shake your head feeling guilty. You want to blame it on the pregnancy, but you know she's right.

"You're not the bad guy. Joe and I are both in the wrong. But forcing something that isn't there doesn't look good either—threatening me, sending people to watch us. It's all a bit much. They trashed my home. They have photos of me sleeping. Enough is enough, Nicole."

"I have no fucking clue what you're talking about. I didn't send anyone after you. If I want to make you miserable, I will do it myself."

"Nicole, it's clearly you."

"When did the photos start?" Nicole crosses her arms, waiting for your reply.

"When we first started messing around. Why?"

"Did the person send it in a blank envelope?"

"Yeah, How do you-"

"Ladies, is everything okay?" Robin makes her way over, asking. You both nod. You return to the game while Nicole states she isn't feeling well and heads home early. Nicole opens her closet and walks over to a small dresser in the back. She opens the top and pulls out the envelope. Inside are photos of Nicole meeting DJ. But that's not the thing that's been driving her mad. It's the negative pregnancy results sitting in a pile. She needs to come up with a plan fast because there is no way she can keep up the fake pregnancy.

"Joey!" You giggle as he carries you to the bedroom. He gently lays you down and throws his clothes to the floor.

"That was a great game! You guys did amazing."

Joe ignores you and goes straight to your belly. He lifts your shirt to kiss it and sing to the growing baby. You run your hands through his hair and tell him about Nicole. He groans and sits up.

"I don't think she's pregnant. I don't want to sound like an asshole again, bringing it up. But something is off. I mean, she's not even showing."

"Sometimes women don't show until they're super late." You sit up, and Joe pouts.

"I should return home to check on her." Joe stands up and gets dressed. You think that is a better option because Nicole seemed very stressed out. You decide to make some ramen and watch tv. You turn off the tv as you drift to sleep on the couch, and your front door opens. A person walks by, not realizing you're asleep on the couch. You pop up when you hear your bedroom door open.

"Joe? Is that you?" You call out. When there isn't an answer, fear runs through your body. You go to the kitchen and grab a knife.

"I'm calling the police!" You shout, knowing that your phone is charging. Suddenly a hooded figure approaches you. You swing the knife.

"Leave me alone!" You scream. The assailant grabs your wrist, trying to get you to let go. During the struggle, he slams you into the counter and knocks you down. On the way down, your face hits the counter. You quickly cower and cover your stomach to protect the baby.

"I'm pregnant! Please! Please!" You cry. The man runs out of the apartment, leaving you crying and shaking. You're too afraid to move, so you lay there in a fetal position crying. Finally, you pick yourself up and call Mya. She rushes over and takes you to the hospital.

"The baby looks fine. How are you? I'm worried." You OB asks, rubbing your hand. You take your hand away. The side of your face hurts from the fall. You already gave your report to the cops, but you didn't see anything. All you know is that it was a guy. The curtain is pulled back, revealing Joe in complete stress.

"Jo-"

"You're done living there. We're going to move in. I already have some guys moving things to our new place. I don't give a fuck about anything else. Is the baby okay? Are you okay?" Joe takes your hand, and you nod. Mya gives you an apologetic look. She called Joe from your phone even though you told her not to call.

"I can't leave your side. Fuck, Cheeks. Fuck! I could rip that piece of shit's head off. Why didn't you tell me you were still getting letters and photos? Fuck! I'm going to kill this person."

"Joe, please calm down. I just want to go home and sleep. My dad went to get me something to eat. I'll be released soon, and I'm going to stay with my parents until our place is ready."

"You'll move in with me?" He asks with soft eyes. You cup his face and nod. Joe kisses your lips. You spend the next few days at your parent's house. A big regret because your mother is way overprotective. And it doesn't help that Joe is following in her footsteps.

"Isn't your girlfriend pregnant? You should be taking care of her." Your mother laughs, fluffing your pillow while Joe puts the blanket over your legs.

"I wanted to make sure Cheeks was okay." Joe nervously answers.

"You should go. I'm fine, and I have work later."

"You're not going to work." Your mother and Joe both say. You roll your eyes at them. You can't just sit around and do nothing. After much convincing, they let you go to work. You work the night shift, which surprisingly is a slow shift. Tate stands by the counter, watching you check paperwork. You ask about his brothers, and he tells you they're doing better in their new home, and he gets to see them every weekend.

Nicole sits in her chair as her makeup team begins to work. Her co-worker walks in, asking for the room. She hands Nicole a tablet. Nicole flips through the photos of you and Joe.

"Someone emailed me these photos. I won't run the story, but I thought you should know."

Nicole hops down from her chair.

"Nope. You will run this story, but not until I tell you." Nicole hands the tablet back and walks out of her dressing room. Before taking her place at her desk, she looks down at the text from the unknown number telling her time is ticking.

A/N: This chapter was ehh sorry it sucked omg! I decided to give a little more background character stories and see reader's life outside of Joe. But Omg, now that we know Nicole is also getting letters and photos, the plot thickens. And that Nicole is def not as good as she tries to make herself! It's only a matter of time before Hell breaks loose. So stay tuned! Thank you for all the comments, reblogs, and likes! I see it all and I appreciate it so much!

Tags: @joselyn001@savii999@lostaurorax@simpgirl-lat@edenhess @blinkloverx3 @dboanalooaa @nm112495 @mhm-ok-sure@katiehud@blu3jeanbaby@mrosales16@wineauntharry @Cosmolover96 @loviingjihyo @hrlzy @spideybrina@dessxoxsworld @Tjb113

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joe burrow smut #joe burrow fluff #joey b #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow x u

[multiverse-imagines]

SkyDragonGrandeeny of ao3 asked!

I was going to request a fluff story prompt, where Vash is having trouble sleeping or woke up from a nightmare, and reader hums or sings him back to sleep. A very wholesome and comforting story quq

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A/N: I have written a fic like this already, BUT! mans has a lot of nightmares. Let's give some comfort baybeee!!!? The song is My Wish by Rascal Flatts!

My Wish

You and Vash stumbled back to the Inn after a long night of drinking and partying with Nicholas, the insurance girls, and the rest of the patrons. You practically had to drag him up the stairs, and up to your shared room. 

"Aw, don't bench me coach, I can still make the field goal!~" Vash babbled as you set him down on the bed.

"Come on, Angel, let's get you to bed. Games over." You giggled as you unbuttoned his coat. He made some slurred comment about undressing him, but you promised him that you would stop at just his coat. He could dress himself into his PJs, or stay in his uncomfortable armor. He huffed and stumbled around as he changed into his pajamas. The two of you curled up into bed, and he was out pretty much instantly.

You, on the other hand, needed some time to process the day's events. It had been a long day of running, avoiding gunfire, and watching Vash face the flaws in his ideals. Another person died today. Yet another person who was shot right in front of Vash. Another person he couldn't save. Another argument with Wolfwood, who had forgiven Vash by the time they had all gone for drinks, but Wolfwood seemed to be cramming his feelings down. 

You held the sleeping stampede in your arms as he snored away his buzz. His face was peaceful, in such vast contrast to the contortion of fear, sadness and the little simmer of anger he thought no one could see. But you could see it. Your heart ached with him. What a terrible environment they lived in, where people killed each other over petty squabbles, and minimal currency. 

His face began to contort as he began to shake, and stir from his slumber. A nightmare. You knew it was gonna be a while before he would sleep peacefully again. 

"Vash, Angel, Wake up. C'mon, Dearest." You gently shook his shoulder, his eyes soon snapping open, and a gasp escaped his lips before he looked up to you, his eyes quickly bursting into tears as he came to his senses. 

"Oh Mayfly…" his voice shook as he pulled you close to him, and he sobbed incoherent words into your chest, clinging to you as if you were the last living thing on Gunsmoke. 

"I've got you, Angel. It's okay. He's not in pain anymore. You did everything you could."

"But he still died…" you hardly made out Vash's whimper.

"You can do everything correctly, and still lose."

"All I ever do is lose…" he grumbled, his breath and voice coming back to him now. 

"I'm insulted that you think I'm a loss, Angel. I don't think you should talk about Preacher, Meryl and Milly that way too." You comforted him. Vash took in those words, lightly tapping his fingers on your back as he processed. 

"How long was I out?" He tried to drop the subject.

"Like, a half hour." You frowned, "We have a long day ahead of us again. Let's get some sleep." You caressed the beauty mark on his face.

"I don't wanna. I'll just have another nightmare." He pouted. 

"I know, Angel. But you have to keep your mind clear in case shit goes sideways tomorrow too."

"I just want a nice day walking around town, playing with the kids, getting donuts with you, and drinking with everyone. No gunfire, no fights, just love and peace."

"I know, Angel. We'll get there someday." You comforted him.

"Will you… sing me that song?" He seemed afraid to ask.

"Of course, Angel. And if you have another nightmare, I'll be here to wake you." You slipped your fingers through his sweaty tresses before guiding him to lay down once again. 

"I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow, and each road leads you where you wanna go. If you're faced with a choice and you have to choose, I hope you choose the one that means the most to you." You quietly sang to him as you pet his hair, 

"And if one door opens to another door closed, I hope you keep on walkin' til you find a window." He hugged you closer as he got comfortable, "if it's cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile, but more than anything. More than anything," you pressed a kiss to his forehead, 

"My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to. Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small, you never need to carry more than you can hold. And while you're out there gettin' where you're gettin' to, I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too. Yeah, this is my Wish." You soon heard the light snores coming from him once again.

You had once learned the song that Rem used to sing to him, but some nights that made the nightmares worse. Instead, you sang him this song your family has passed down since before the fall, before the space-faring age. You always found it uplifting and it was like your family's creedo.

Now you got to sing such a wonderful song to your beloved Angel to bring him hope on the nights when he had none. You just hoped that someday this song would manifest itself into his life, and that you, Vash, Wolfwood, everyone on Gunsmoke, would be able to live such a life described in the song. Because that was your wish.

#trigun #vash the stampede #vash x reader #trigun brain rot

[themultifandomgal]

John Shelby- Can’t Lose Someone Else

Between John and I we have 5 kids. 3 from his previous marriage 2 from mine. When his wife died from an illness and my husband passed away from the war, Tommy Shelby decided that we should marry. John be father to my kids and I be a mother to his kids.

John was handsome, of course he was all of the Shelby's are good looking, but I wanted to marry for love, like I did the first time. So when John and I got married and moved into a house together I slept in one room while he slept in the other. We hardly knew each other barley spoke to one another. He's not cruel by any means, he takes care of me and my kids, but he's very distant. That all change the day I walked into the betting shop at the wrong time.

The day started out as any other. I woke up to an empty bed, got myself ready then got all of the kids dressed and fed

"YN, where's dad?" Katie Johns eldest daughter asks

"I assume the betting shop why?"

"He's just never home"

"I know but he's a very busy man"

"To busy for his own kids" Katie mutters. Before I can reply Katie gets everyone ready to leave for school.

I decide that I need to speak to John about this so I head to the betting shop. When I arrive it seems a bit to quiet. Frowning I open up the door and see a man holding a gun pointing it at Tommy

"YN leave, now" Tommy says looking at me, but the man quickly points the gun at me before I can leave

"No she can stay" the gunman smirks and a shiver goes down my spine "pretty little thing" the man walks over to me and brushes the back of his hand over my cheek

"Don't touch her" John shouts

"Ah well we figured out who she belongs to. Now" he places the metal barrel against my forehead "forfeit the race or I kill her"

"Ok ok. Just let her go" Tommy says

"I want your word"

"You have my word" the man lowers the gun and that's when all hell breaks loose. I'm thrown on the floor hitting my head on something. Gunshots ring through my ears

"John? YN ok?"

"Yeah, bumped head but ok"

"Here" John hands me a wrapped up frozen piece of meat to place on my head

"Thanks" I give him a small smile "sorry I came in at the wrong time"

"Don't apologise YN, but why did you come into the betting shop?"

"This morning Katie said something that upset me a little"

"Katie? As in my quiet daughter Katie?"

"She said that you no longer had time for her and the others. Referring to how you are never home"

"Shit"

"I just wanted to tell you that maybe you should come home for dinner in the evening"

"Do you know why I'm out all of the time?" I shake my head no "it's because I can't lose someone else that I care about. I thought if I kept my distance that I wouldn't care about you and that way my heart doesn't shatter like it did when Martha died"

"John..."

"You nearly getting shot scared me. I thought I was going to loose you when I barley know you and I really want to get to know you. I'm sorry YN I've been a bad husband"

"I understand. I wanted to get married because I loved someone not because of circumstance, hence why I've kept my distance"

"Maybe we should start small"

"Like?"

"How about I cook dinner?"

"You can cook?" I raise an eyebrow

"You have to learn how to with Aunt Polls cookin" I laugh shaking my head "so what do you say? tomorrow night I cook our dinner?"

"I'd like that" I smile up at John. Maybe this is the start of a relationship or even just a friendship. Maybe we can both be content with the decision the Tommy made for us. Maybe he's secretly an amazing match maker.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders reader #john shelby x you #john shelby x reader #john shelby x oc #john shelby x y/n #john shelby imagine #john shelby #John Shelby x wife