#where would be better to go then back to the beginning

[amaranthineghost]

FLOWERS FOR THE 'TOTALLY-A-COUPLE' FRIENDS

oscar piastri x reader

when two friends visit the market and, upon seeing free flowers being given out to couples, they decide to pretend to date for the sake of free flowers. when they end up liking the idea of pretending to be together, they end up wondering why they need to pretend to begin with.

credit to @foreveralbon for the idea!!!! <333

authors note: this was so fun to make!!! i really wanted to make something for oscar and totally stole this idea from liyah (THANK YOU AGAIN!!!) so I finally have an imagine for oscar yay!!!

SOMETIMES IT’S NORMAL FOR FRIENDS TO PRETEND. pretend they’re fighting, pretend while playing games, pretend they’re racing against traffic, pretend they don’t really like each other more than friends.

they pretend they’re dating for the sake of free flowers from a random guy in a market that they visited as friends because they are friends. they are friends. it’s totally normal, totally completely normal for friends to do such things.

it was as simple as that.

at least it was before it all happened because now they didn’t know if they were just pretending anymore or if they had dropped the act hours ago. was it all really that simple now?

it was a clear day in oscar’s hometown and what better way to spend such a beautiful day off than in the company of his good, even best, friend at a market down the street from where he grew up. considering she hadn’t grown up in the area he had, he wanted to show her around all the classic spots that he used to frequent with his mum as a little kid.

well, now he felt like his mum when she used to drag him to all the corner stores or street markets in the blazing sun and smudge sunscreen on his face, except now it’s with her. his best friend, and only his friend and nothing more because his mother was convinced he was smitten. he always denied it.

but everyone could see the way he looked at her whenever he smiled, how she would be the first person he looked to when he laughed at a joke someone else made.

everyone knew except for them, it was painfully obvious that they both felt more for each other than they allowed, and they were painfully oblivious.

the walk on grass, through the bustling market, was relaxing with hands to their sides and their shoulders constantly touching. every so often, they'd look away with red faces and awkward smiles as their hands just barely grazed each other’s skin, but they never closed that gap. it had been happening for months and their friends were clawing at their eyes just waiting for it to happen.

but they weren't here to push them together, just the two friends walking past different stalls of clothes, antiques, accessories, and other various items.

a light breeze blew her hair into her face, causing the constant sputtering of lips as strands stuck to her lip gloss.

of course, in true friend fashion, he laughed every time at her struggles with taming her hair, telling her without fail, “you should really put your hair up, it'll only keep getting in your face.”

she scoffed at him as he pulled strands from her face and futilely attempted to tuck them behind her ears as they blew back into her face.

“i don't think i even have a hair tie,” she whined as she pulled her hair back but couldn't tie it up.

“oh, wait, i do,” he remembered the band on his wrist, years of being friends meant carrying hair ties around for the girl because she wouldn't.

she gasped softly, taking it from his hand that held it flat on his palm, muttering “oh my god, osc, i love you so much, thank you,” she rambled under her breath, “not going to question why you even have it.”

a smile graced his face, completely tuning out her last words at the nickname she had called him. it made his heart flutter every time.

the words ‘i love you’ had been said constantly throughout their friendship that it was second nature at this point. to them, it was just a simple sentence they threw around, though the saying became more and more frequent in the past few months.

maybe it was their way of getting to say their feelings in a disguised, double-meaning phrase that wouldn't confuse what they were.

oh, but it did.

at this point, the words ‘i like you’ held deeper values because it told them how they really felt, but they would never say it. they could've rehearsed it in their heads for days, weeks, or months on end just at the end of the day to say the thing that felt safest. i love you.

he simply muttered back in admiration, “you're welcome.” a smile played on his lips for the longest time, the more he looked at her, the warmer and fuzzier he felt his heart become.

maybe his mum was right.

he shook his head internally. no, she couldn't be. but as he looked at the girl, in such deep admiration like she was the only thing to have ever existed in his life before, he wasn't so sure.

he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as they continued on walking. the breeze had calmed, and her hair was safely tied up and out of her face. back to grazing hands ever so slightly and arms rubbing against each other caused goosebumps to line their skin.

it was cold, they said to play it off as they looked in opposite directions. the more time passed, the more they hung out, the more excuses they made, and the more awkward it became.

the awkward silence between the pair, birds chirping and other monotonous conversations were the only thing heard until a deep voice called from somewhere up ahead of the crowd.

she stood on the tips of her toes to see over the heads of other people while he made no effort to because he already could.

“guy’s handing out free flowers,” oscar started before pausing and looking at her, “for couples.” he scratched his neck again.

she exhaled sharply, “we could totally pull off being a couple,” she slowed down to the side and stood in front of him. he looked down at her with raised eyebrows and a racing heart.

“you think?” he tilted his head with thought, pursing his lips, “free flowers are free flowers.”

“exactly,” she said in a intellectual tone, holding her hand out for him to grab, “what do you say?”

he thought for a moment. at least he acted like he did because he would've grabbed her hand in a heartbeat, but he couldn't make it obvious.

“alright,” he agreed, hesitantly interlacing their fingers together, “but if you’re uncomfortable at any time, we can stop.”

she rolled her eyes, turning back walking into the crowd, now with his hand interlocked with hers at their sides, “yeah, yeah.”

but he pulled her back before she could slip into the crowd, bumping back against his arm, “promise me, you'd say something.”

she paused, and sighed, “i promise, okay, let's go,” she pulled him along, feeling his slight resistance while dragging him because he thought I'd be fun to see her struggle.

when she gave him a look when she turned her head, only then did he follow alongside her.

the guy handing out the free flowers wasn't too far from them, considering how loud he was when they first heard him.

when they first approached him, they could tell he was skeptical. for some odd reason, they didn't fit the image of a couple. it didn't mean they didn't suit each other, they did by all means look amazing side by side, but he knew. somehow he knew.

maybe it was the way they looked so naïve, how they stood with space still between them, or the nervous energy they put out. either way, he didn't believe them.

“kiss then,” the guy shrugged, causing the ‘couple’ to look at each other confused. she pursed her lips before opening her mouth to say something when he spoke first, “if you're really a couple, just kiss. not that big of a deal.” 

it wasn't like they were uncomfortable with what he was asking. oscar was just unsure how she felt about it, meanwhile she didn't care. deep inside, she was nervous because they're just friends, they've never held hands—until now—let alone kiss.

though once she noticed oscar's hesitancy to make a move, she knew she would have to be the one to do so. she didn't give him time to react, hand around the back on his neck to pull him down to her level and his chapped lips met her glossy ones. his hand ravelled its way into her tied hair, messing up the perfectness she had.

she tasted sweet, the gloss on her lips transferring to his before she pulled away less than a second later. his lips were pinker with the blood rushing to his face.

the guy was smug and satisfied, handing them the bouquet they just kissed—as friends—for.

by the time they had walked away, still no words had been exchanged between the pair. their faces still flushed red and their lips left pink and glossy. every glance in the others direction led to them looking the opposite way. they hadn't processed the fact their arms were interlinked now as Oscar held the flowers in his other hand.

he cleared his throat, prompting her looking at him as he held them out to her, “here.”

her lips parted as she stuttered over what words to say, “are you sure?”

he furrowed his brows, “yeah, why wouldn't i be?”

she nodded, “right, yeah.” she took them from his grasp. she looked at then how oscar looked at her, but maybe it was because oscar had given them to her.

she felt fuzzy, she felt a smile creep into her face as she smelled the flowers. her heart was pounding in her chest. she liked the idea of this fake dating thing, but she didnt imagine the length it would go to in such a short amount of time after she proposed the idea.

maybe she only liked the idea of pretending to be together because it was the closest thing she had to actually being with him.

they remained in silence for the whole walk back to his car, she still clutched the flowers with almost both hands. his hand still laced with hers as she held the bouquet against her body. they only separated as they went to their respective sides of the car, carefully getting in before buckling their seat belts.

the drive was silent, even the volume for the radio hadn't been turned up, only the air conditioning could be heard. it was like that for a while as he drove her back to his house because they'd made the plan to hang out afterwards. he thought it would be rude to change routes and drop her back at her house.

when they arrived, they sat in the car, unmoving in silence.

“do you want to talk about it?” his voice was uneven, and he wasn't looking at her when he spoke, not until the silence consumed them again did he turn his head.

“i mean—there's nothing to talk about really,” she shrugged, unsure of what to say as she bit on her lip, “we were just—pretending, right?”

she turned in her seat to look at him, and he nodded, “right, so just friends.”

“right,” she repeated in confirmation, nodding along as they both looked ahead again.

she hesitated. she realized things had already changed between them, their dynamic had shifted and it wasn't going to be the same. it wasn't going back so if she was going to do any more potential damage, she knew now would be the time.

“but—i guess i didn't mind it,” she muttered under her breath, causing him to gaze across at her, “the fake dating, I mean.”

“really?” he questioned, hand gripping the wheel despite the fact they were stationary.

“i mean, it was fun while it lasted,” she finally met eyes with him, fidgeting with her hands as she pursed her lips, “i enjoyed it.”

“the fake dating?”

“the kiss.”

he only nodded, thinking deeply in his head, but on her end, she thought she majorly fucked up whatever they could've salvaged from before. now they couldn't.

truthfully, he just had no words. the kiss had given him a different perspective because now he was longing to kiss her again, to feel and taste the lip gloss on his lips that came from hers.

it was like every feeling he had ever felt for her was pushed to the very forward part of his brain and refused to be put away again.

“i enjoyed it too.” he muttered so quietly, she nearly didn't hear him.

but when she had finally registered the words, a smile cracked her serious face and she looked at oscar, “really?” her voice was high and so unsure.

he only nodded in confirmation as she melted back into the car seat, smiling giddily as if she hadn't been waiting for this.

“hey,” he spoke softly, still gazing at her with eyes of admiration she only saw now, “i guess—it doesn't have to be pretend.” he shrugged.

“are you saying what i think you're saying, piastri?” she leaned back and watched him roll his eyes, only pulled in by oscar's hand on the back of her neck to make her meet him in the middle above the center console. he felt her lips smile against his which caused him to as well. it was infectious.

he cradled her face in his hand, this second kiss lasted much longer than the first, and it marked the end of their long-lived friendship and short-lived pretend dating, but marked the hopefully long-term relationship that had now sparked between the two.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @poppyflower-22 @thearchieves @beskardroids @lorenica @hiireadstuff @delululeclerc

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

#formula 1 #formula 1 drivers #formula one #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #oscar piastri #osc #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri au #op81 #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #op81 fic #op81 x you #op81 angst #f1 #lando #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine

[wordsbyrian]

Would you pls do a Mary earps imagine with them filming TikTok’s together and being otp x

A/n: Not exactly what you asked for but close enough i think.

TikTok is the bane of your very existence.

It’s the bane of your professional life as a chef because everytime you turn around one of your crew is using prep time to make a concoction and upload it to that godforsaken app.

And in your personal life?

Well, in your personal life, it feels like every time you blink you're being sucked into filming one of those stupid videos with your girlfriend.

The first time it happened, you were barely even sure what was going on.

The two of you had been getting ready to go on a date to a relatively nice restaurant, when she pulled up in front of her phone’s camera so she could show off what you were wearing.

That had been the beginning of the madness (as well as a very hard launch of your relationship to the public).

It didn’t really matter what you were doing, if Mary had decided that a video needed to be filmed, it’d be filmed.

A literal walk in the park. TikTok.

You driving. TikTok.

You tearing a member of the kitchen staff a new one. TikTok. (Although she’d been asked not so politely by the head chef to never do that again).

You cooking in your shared flat. TikTok.

Hell, she even made a TikTok of you sharpening your knives, a task you find completely mind numbing.

And if having your every move recorded wasn’t bad enough, she also had you joining her in filming one of the more popular trends. You mouthing along to the silly sounds that are currently popular on the app. Or worse, dancing, you hate the dancing.

Asking how often you think about the Roman Empire (only as often as you need to).

Throwing herself fully clothed into the shower  and singing Taylor Swift while you were trying to brush your teeth.

Making you record a two second clip of everytime you changed clothes while on vacation.

The list is neverending.

Which is why you should be more alarmed when you see her walking into the kitchen  with her phone out but you’re too focused on chopping the vegetables you’ll be using in your meal prep.

 “Baby,” she says.

“Hmm?”

“Can we record a TikTok?”

“Can I keep doing what I’m doing,” you ask in return, still not looking up from the cutting board.

“You don’t need to do anything but stand there and look pretty,” Mary says as she sets her phone up next to you. “And answer questions,” she adds as an afterthought.

You roll your eyes but don’t make any additional comments as you see her hit record.

“So a ton of you have been asking in the comments how my wife manages to be a professional chef when she has so many food allergies,” Mary says, looking directly at the camera. “And I figured it was better if I just let her explain it. Babe?”

Admittedly, you hadn’t really been listening to every word that she had been saying, only really listening to every word that she had been saying, only really catching the words ‘allergies’ and ‘professional chef’, which is a topic you get asked about a lot. So you just answer without really thinking.

“My main allergies are seafood, peanuts and treenuts. And since I’m one of 2 or 3 sous on any given night, I just,” you pause, “wait, what did you just call me?”

You can feel cheeks heating up as your brain finally processes what just happened.

“What? Babe?”

Mary’s playing dumb on purpose. She knows it. You know it. And you both know that the other one knows.

“Not that, the other thing.”

“What my wife,” she asks.

A cheeky grin breaks out on Mary’s face as she watches even more color rush to your face.

For you, when she repeats it, you suddenly feel like you can barely breathe and you know that your next words come out a little choked (much to Mary’s amusement.)

“Yup, that.”

As calmly as you can manage, you put your knife down and take off your apron before walking out of the kitchen.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I have to find my wallet and keys,” you shoot back.

“Why?”

“I gotta go buy a ring before you change your mind!”

The sound of her laughter is the only thing you hear as you close the door behind you.

The video is up on that cursed app by the end of the week.

A photo of the ring on Mary’s finger goes up just a few hours before.

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #mary earps x reader #mary earps imagine #muwfc imagine #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #muwfc x reader

[hearts4hughes]

Luke Hughes

4. "where's my goodnight kiss?"

luke hughes x fem!reader | request post

you have no intent to speak to luke anymore today. he’s been purposely causing arguments and bickering throughout the entire day. from when you bought him the wrong brand of toothpaste to you accidentally sitting in his spot on the couch, he’s found a problem with it.

now, you grab a pillow and a blanket from your shared bed, preparing to spend a long night on the couch.

“where are you going?” luke questions from his spot in the bed. his brows are furrowed as he examines you holding your favorite blanket and pillow clad in your pajamas.

“to sleep.” you simply state.

“and where are you planning to sleep?” he inquires.

you roll your eyes. “on the couch.”

his jaw clenches. he’s aware of the grouchy attitude that he’s been sporting, but every time he begins to apologize, you do something to annoy him once again. it’s not your fault, you could have stepped on the wrong floorboard and he would have freaked.

“why?” he whines, his voice suddenly small.

you stare at him, contorting your face in an annoyed manner. “because you’ve been an asshole to me all day and i’m not sleeping next to you right now.”

he sits there dumbfounded. he tries to figure out what to say next, how he could use his charm to get you to stay, but he has no idea.

you turn around, b-lining towards the couch— which seems like the most comfortable thing right now.

“wait,” his voice causes you to stop in your tracks. “where’s my goodnight kiss?”

you want to ignore him. you want to just slam the door and leave him alone, but his voice sounds so adorable. not to mention his cute, messy curls.

“you’re not serious, right?” you ask, letting out a laugh in disbelief. but luke doesn’t laugh, he only frowns, putting on the cutest face he can muster up.

hesitantly, you drop your blanket and pillow and walk over to him. you climbing on the bed and lean into his lips. the kiss is barely a kiss— it’s more of a peck—eliciting a whine from luke as he wants more.

you giggle as he swiftly flips you over and begins spreading kisses on your face and neck. finally, he pulls back, “i’m sorry for being a jerk. i’m so stressed right now with hockey, which is barely an excuse.” you look at him, urging him to continue. “you deserve so much better of an apology, but i promise i will make it up to you.“

“well,” you start, “you can begin by scratching my back.” you grin causing him to laugh.

“whatever you want, darling.”

#nora’s writings 💐 #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes imagine #new jersey devils

[zarla-s]

I've always had a question regarding Handplates since it ended, Asgore never related the plates to Gaster? He kept a diary where he wrote everything about the skelebros and was intrigued by their past. It's not weird that the brothers had a plate with their dad's initials drilled into their hands? And if he made the connection, he simply decided not to push the issue further?

I thought about this, actually! I mean logically, you'd think Asgore would put the pieces together. I even wrote out several scripts following the idea, but in the end I didn't go for it. It'd be a long tangent at the end of the comic for one, but mostly because it just... didn't go anywhere. It dead-ends in an unsatisfying way where nothing really changes or gets resolved, so I just set it aside.

You're on the right track about him deciding not to push it! But basically I figured, if Asgore came and asked...

Gaster: he wouldn't tell him, in part because he's afraid of how Asgore would react and doesn't want to lose him, but also because he doesn't want to talk about something that personal to the brothers without their permission. Especially after Sans told him that he didn't want him to talk about what happened to them with anyone else! He'd probably talk around the issue, if he didn't outright lie about not knowing, and point Asgore in the brothers' direction so they could decide for themselves if they wanted him to know.

Sans: Already said he doesn't want anyone to know about what happened. 1-S is dead. He'd fend off any questions Asgore asked with silly joke answers and completely stonewall him on it.

Papyrus: Also doesn't like talking about "that stuff" with other people, and didn't like the pitying looks that Asgore gave him about his scars. He's with Sans in wanting to move on after what happened, and he also wants to keep Gaster in good standing with everyone and in a healthy living situation with Asgore. He'd fend off the questions in a way that'd make it clear that he was uncomfortable with the issue (much like how he fended off the kid's back at the beginning) and I feel like Asgore would sense that it's an uncomfortable topic and not press too hard.

So while Asgore might be suspicious and might figure out that the plates and Gaster are connected, none of the skeletons would actually tell him or explain anything about it, and since they've told no one else about what happened and no one remembers it, there's no real other source of information about it anywhere. So Asgore ends up empty-handed, and the reader would likewise feel disappointed that the whole thing ended up going nowhere. It'd just feel like a waste of time, I think, especially so close to the end of the story.

It is something I thought about though! Probably something better left for a fic or something, really...

[index]

#asks and answers #russlanbf #handplates #gerson already forgot about the plates lol #the brothers also don't let other people see the plates in general so not many people know they have them #i guess the skelefamily might get together to decide on a cover story together but the end result is still the same

[hugsandharrystyles]

The Chase

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

SUMMARY: Harry is obsessed with you (or your pussy).

Harry Styles would not stop following you.

You both had hooked up at a frat party two weeks ago in a dingy bathroom, and ever since, he's been searching for you everywhere.

Somehow, he's outside of all your classes, waiting for you so that he could try and woo you. His persuasions were overlooked because you were not in the mood for anything any college frat boy was trying to pull.

You had only come to this party because your friend had dragged you along with the promise of alcohol.

You seriously needed to get wasted and perhaps make out with a cute boy, but it was proving hard to do because of the chase you were involved in. As soon as you had walked in the door, you were on the run from Harry.

Right now, you were in the crowded kitchen, the room was glowing red from the solo cups taped on the lights, and it was definitely setting the mood for the horny college students.

You were filling your cup when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist in a secure hold.

"Baby, please," You heard begging in your ear, and then his crotch was grinding into your ass.

"Harry-" You begin, but you were cut off by the rolling of his hips again. "You realize how pathetic you are?" You said while laughing. He whined in your ear and squeezed you harder.

"Stop running from me," He counters. "Just come with me outside for bit, hm?" He asks.

"Harry-"

"Please," He begs.

"Fine," You huff and grab his hand to start walking outside. Harry has a shy, yet smug smile on his face as you drag him out of the house. People look and furrow their eyebrows at the two of you, but Harry does not care. He's whipped, and he knows it.

"Over here," He says and points to a lounge chair close to the bonfire. There's a decent amount of people around but not nearly as bad as inside. He sits down first and drags you to sit on his lap.

"Harry- Jesus," You sigh and adjust yourself. He buries his face in your neck and inhales you in.

"I've missed you," He breathes.

"Harry, we had one mediocre hook-up in a trashy frat bathroom," You remind him.

"Mediocre?!" That had gotten his attention. He adjusts you to where he can see your face better. "That was the best sex of my life," He tells you.

"Well, that's sad," You inform him, and he has to physically stop his jaw from dropping.

"What in the hell are you talking about? I made you cum," He reminds you, but your face sours. "Didn't I?" You shake your head and suppress the smile that wants to appear on your face from this boy getting humbled. "But- But you told me you came," He questions you.

"Yeah, so I could get out of there," You couldn't hold back the small chuckle that escapes you that time. "Harry, don't get me wrong, you aren't bad and definitely are the biggest I've ever been with, but maybe you need to work on your stamina," You explain and run your fingers through his hair because of his pitiful face.

"Well, it's not my fault you have this magical pussy!" He says a bit too loud. Some people look over with incredulous looks on their faces, and you punch his shoulder. "Couldn't help it when you're so wet, tight, and fucking warm- Oh, God," He groans as if remembering. His nose is back in your neck and arms around your body, squeezing once again. "Smell so good and so soft too," He says as he squeezes the extra plush on your body, something you're usually insecure about but feel super confident with the way this boy is drooling for you.

"You've gone mad," You resort to.

"I don't care," He rebuts. You roll your eyes and pat his back.

"Ay, Styles! Look at you fuckin' whipped," You hear one of his annoying frat brothers call out to the two of you.

"And fucking what about it?" He snaps back, and you see the arrogant meathead cower down in his seat.

"Harry, maybe we should-"

"Go to my room, so I can actually take care of you?" He offers.

"I'll give you one more shot," You sigh, and his head perks up like he didn't expect you to say that.

"Actually?" He says and is about to jump to his feet.

"My clock is ticking," You sigh, and suddenly, you're being thrown over his shoulder, and he's running into the house and up the stairs to his bedroom. Hoots, hollers, and whistles are thrown to both of you, but neither of you are paying attention to it. You're immediately thrown on the bed when you get into his room. Harry had locked the door, so no one will be interrupting the two of you.

"I'm going to eat you out," he says breathlessly. "Should punish me for how rude I was to you last time. Didn't eat you out or make you cum- fuck, I'm sorry," He pants and rips your skirt and shoes off your body. His mouth is about to press against your puffy pussy through your underwear when you stop him.

"Wait," you say and hold his hair to stop him.

"What?" He whines and dramatically drops his face into the bed.

"You're right," you tell him and yank on his hair to get his attention.

"About what, baby?" He whines in impatience.

"You should be punished," You agree and sit up, pulling your body away from him. His jaw drops and his face is like you've just stabbed him.

"Are you- are you serious?" He asks and starts to inch his way closer to you.

"I mean, you're the one who said it. I'll be nice and still have sex with you, but I have one rule," you tell him and press your foot against his chest to keep him away.

"Anything. Anything at all- I swear," He assures you, and you smile.

"You're not allowed to touch me," you say, and he scoffs.

"You can't be serious," He pants.

"It's this or nothing," you say and start to get up from the bed.

"No, no, please, I'll do it. I'll do it," He promises.

"You're pathetic," you laugh, and he glares at you. "Wipe that look off your face," You scold him, voice surprisingly dominating, and he immediately does. It's hilarious the power you seem to have over this arrogant frat boy. "Sit against the headboard," you tell him, and he doesn't think twice before doing what you say. You get up and start rummaging through his closet.

"What- what are you doing?" He asks, trying to stay still in his spot, but his curiosity is getting the best of him. Once you have what you were looking for, you turn and approach him, your hands hiding the object behind your back.

"Get up," You command, and he jumps off the bed. "Take your clothes off," you say further. He rips everything off besides his boxers. "I didn't say stop, big boy," you tell him, and he blushes. He sheepishly pulls down his underwear and fights the urge to cover himself. Your smirk deepens as you gaze over his body. "On the bed," You command, and as he leans himself against the headboard, you rid yourself of the rest of your own clothes. Harry's eyes cloud over as his eyes take you in. You're truly the most enthralling woman he's ever met.

"Thank you," He whispers as you straddle his lap, his hands gently rest on your plushy thighs. You almost feel bad for what you are about to do, but your horniness brings you out of it.

"Very sweet," you say and place a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He moans lightly and tries to turn his head to fully capture your lips, but you move away at the perfect time. You take his hands in yours and tie them together with the tie you found in his closet. His eyes widen and his cheeks flush even deeper. "This okay?" You ask and run your fingers through his hair.

"Y-Yes. Never done something like this before, but it's v-very okay," He assures you and tips his head back when you start kissing at the skin on his neck. His hands that are tied together twitch on his stomach and reach to where his dick lays, playing with himself for some much-needed stimulation. His moans get louder, and he feels cum drip from his thick pink tip.

"The fuck are you doing?" You suddenly ask, straightening yourself in time to see Harry playing with himself.

"I'm- I'm sorry. It's just- I'm really fucking horny, and it hurts," He tries to explain but you roll your eyes and scoff.

"You know, this is why I haven't let you fuck me again. Fuckin' selfish," You mock, and he shakes his head.

"No- No, I'm not. Please," He whines, his hand straining against the tie. "Don't go, please," He begs. You stare down at him intensely, and he has no choice but to cower under your glare. Out of nowhere, you suddenly drop yourself down onto his length, rubbing and sliding against where it lays against his stomach. "Oh!" He gasps as he feels your hot wet pussy slide over him.

"I'm going to take what I want from you," You decide and place your hands against his chest to get a better form. Your tight hole begins to catch itself on his tip when you push down on him, and you see Harry biting his lip so hard you think it might bleed. You continue sliding your pussy over him until his dick is twitching and leaking with cum.

"You got to stop if you don't want me to cum," he says, his voice strained and tight.

"You need to work on your stamina," you remind him and grab his cock, positioning him with your tight entrance.

"Oh, God- Oh, God," He chants as you slide his tip in. His hips stagger, making him slide in a bit deeper, so you press on his stomach to keep him down.

"Easy," You command, and he looks as if he could cry. You fuck yourself on the tip of his cock, getting your entrance to spread, but he's just so fucking big. You look down at him, and he has that same fucked out expression on his face. "Don't you fucking dare," you say and begin to insert more of him into you.

"Then fucking stop!" He whines. He almost cries when he feels your fingers squish into his cheeks, making him look into your eyes.

"You're not making the fucking rules here, frat boy. I told you if I was going to do this again, it was going to be by my terms, not yours, so shut the fuck up and stay still," You command, and you see tears gather in his eyes. You roll your eyes and slide down on him even further, about halfway in now. He chokes on a sob of pleasure and strains his fists in his lap.

"I'm sorry," he says before you feel his hips buck up into yours and his heavy load spurting into your pussy. The sensation almost makes you cum, but you push it away so you can see his pretty face as he orgasms. His body is trembling, and it feels like his high lasts forever. He feels you untie his wrists, and he subconsciously flexes them out of their stiff position. His breathing is rapid as he comes down, and a smile is graced across his lips until he feels you start bouncing on his sensitive cock again. "Oh, fuck! What are you doing-"

"I didn't come, asshole," You spit and grind yourself on his hardening dick.

"I'm too s-sensitive," He slurs, his hips tensing away and his hands coming up to grab your plushy hips. His mouth his dropped, and his head falls back. "I might be in love with you," He gasps, and you laugh.

"Shut up," You giggle, but you are cut off when his hips thrust up into you and his fingers come down to play with your clit. "Fuck, your dick is too good," You moan and don't have time to react before you're shoved onto your back, Harry above you. His hands push your thighs to your chest, and his hips piston into your squelching cunt. "Oh!" You gasp and suddenly feel your own orgasm starting to arrive.

"Cum for me, please cum on my dick," He begs and brings one hand to your mouth to pry it open before spitting directly into your mouth. "Swallow," He whispers. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he pounds into your pussy like an animal.

"I'm gonna fucking cum," You almost scream and start to shake.

"I'm filling your pussy again," Harry moans and grounds himself into you, basically sitting on you and filling you with all of his fat cock. Your hand instinctually reaches out and pushes at his toned stomach, but the weight of him, and the feeling of him deep inside your body only makes your orgasm so much better.

"So deep," You whisper and squirm.

"Take it, take it," he almost begs as he cums, his own orgasm shooting inside of you and sticking you two together. You're both shaking at the intensity of your orgasms.

Sounds of panting fill the room as you both settle. Harry flops down onto your chest, and you reach around to rub at his back, very well-aware of his half-hard dick still deep inside you.

"You're hard already?" You ask.

"Wanna go again?"

#harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harrystyles #one direction #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles one shot

[elliyoyo]

Algophilia (Astarion Ancunin/Reader)

I have no explanation. The vampire seduced me just like he seduced you, I am also horny. Here you go.

Desc: You get very aroused by biting and the concept of being bitten. Astarion reveals his vampirism, and you both see an opportunity.

Warnings: Smut, pwp, p in v, fingering, oral (m receiving), biting, blood mention.

Words: ~2k

There, in the dim firelight, you see him for what he really is: a vampire. A slave to sanguine hunter. And it stirs something within you in a way you haven't felt in a long time— since before the tadpoles, at the very least.

“So… when was the last time you killed someone? Days? Hours?” You try to keep control of your breathing, but the excitement is building and your resolve is weakening.

“I’ve never killed anyone!”

You give him a look of disbelief, crossing your arms with an eyebrow raised. A vampire? Having never killed anyone? In the time he’s likely been around?

“Well… not for food. I feed on animals— boar, deer, kobolds, whatever I can get… but it’s not enough. Not if I have to fight— I feel so weak.” His brow furrows and he glares off into the distance, said weakness beginning to get to him. If this is going where you think it’s going, this is going to be the best chance encounter you could hope for.

“If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer— fight better… please…”

Bingo.

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Astarion?”

“At best, I was sure you would say no. More likely, you’d ram a stake through my ribs… No… I needed you to trust me— and you can trust me.”

“I do, and I do believe you. Out of everyone at camp, I know my back is covered the best when I’m traveling with you.” His serious look falters for a moment and you see him soften up a bit as he continues.

“Good… Good… Thank you. Do you think you could trust me just a bit further?” He tilts his head slightly before going on, “I only need a taste, I swear.”

“Fine, but not a drop more than you need— can’t be dying on everyone after coming this far.” Your words are much more contained than your thoughts, which are running wild and free, wandering off to the point where you honestly couldn’t care if he killed you. You knew he’d bring you back, especially if you were going to be the first humans he’s had the pleasure of tasting.

“Really?” His eyes light up, but also hold some suspicion as to why you haven’t reacted like he suspected everyone always would. “I… Okay, not a drop more.” He slowly comes in closer, nodding to himself, likely telling himself that this is finally it. “Let’s get more comfortable.”

He takes your hands and leads you to your bedroll, looming over you as you crawl up to your makeshift pillow. In a moment of quick thinking, you untie the top two laces of your nightshirt, giving him some more surface area to work with. You attempt to make eye contact, but Astarion is sizing your neck up and, no doubt, fantasizing about how delicious and sweet your blood will taste on his tongue.

“Go ahead, Astarion. I’m ready,” you gently declare, grabbing onto the ruffles of his own nightshirt.

“Ready? Just so you’re aware, this won’t turn you into a vampire, it’s just me feeding off of you…”

“No, I know, I just… Go ahead…”

And so he does, sinking his fangs into the soft flesh of your neck with no further hesitation. It’s like a sharp, pin-pointed icy explosion at the entry site, and you can’t help but clench your thighs together and yelp at the sensation. The ice soon turns to fire and you feel like you have alchemist’s fire coursing through your veins, igniting every nerve.

“Astarion, this is ecstasy,” you moan, tightening your grip on his shirt and bringing your hips up to grind against his leg for any friction you could get. “You can bite down more, please, bite down more!”

And bite down more, he does. It’s like you can feel your heartbeat throughout your whole body, rhythmic, pulsating, alive. Astarion also seems to be out of sorts, focusing on the sweet nectar of life pouring from the puncture wounds he’s made. Focusing on how powerful and rejuvenated you make him feel, especially in comparison to the fodder at the mansion or the wildlife he’d caught as of late.

“Would it— ah— can I have… I want you, Astarion,” you push out through quick breaths. “While you’re… biting me… if you would…”

He pulls back long enough for his eyes to glaze over and blood to start dripping down his chin. He seems to blank for a moment, but in the blink of an eye, he’s back to his normal seductive self with a, “Want me? Want me how, darling, what exactly do you want? Use your words.”

“Anything. Anything, anything, anything, please.”

His hand slithers up your leg and stops at the front of your pants, rubbing gentle circles right where you need it. You groan in relief and buck up against him, getting greedy off the bat. He smirks up at you from the nape of your neck and digs back in, relishing in the raw, sexual energy you’re exuding.

“In, please, Astarion, in me,” you whine out, putting a hand over his to give yourself a greater pressure to grind on.

“Oh, the only thing I adore more than your blood is the sound of you begging— I have no choice but to give you what you want,” he coos, giving you what you asked for and then some. His fingers work a mile-a-minute, dipping underneath your pants and undergarments to coat them in your slick before slipping in. You can’t help but yelp at the intrusion, but seconds go by and yelping turns to groaning, then groaning turns into bitten back swears escaping your mouth. Still toying with you, his fangs slip right back into the marks he’d left before. Overwhelmed by the mix of pain and pleasure, you have an instantaneous full-body religious experience type of orgasm that you’d never felt before.

“Astarion, where in the Hells did you pick that up?”

In response, he clamps down even harder, effectively shutting you up and eliciting a wonderful tightening around his fingers. Obviously, not a topic to talk about right now, but you weren’t looking to talk anyway, so you had no problem with shutting up. However, he retracts once more, feeling that soon he won’t be able to stop himself before he drains you. Who honestly knows if you’re trying to play him, use him, like everyone else, or if you’re genuinely out of your mind horny for him— but he didn’t care regardless. He was missing the touch, the feel, the pseudo-passion, and he never got to be the one in control anyway. This chance was a lonesome, steaming apple pie innocently left on the windowsill, and he was not beyond stealing.

“Lift your hips up for me,” he commands, and in no time, he’s got you in nothing but your underwear. He takes a moment, not quite admiring, but just watching the light from the fire drench your skin and illuminate your figure. Eyes drifting from plump lips to bloodied, open neck— marked by him, by him— to bare chest to rock solid nipples down to the curvature of your hips to sweet, soft legs. He can’t see himself, but you were a sight to behold. Nothing like anyone who he’d previously manipulated for Cazador, you were somehow special.

“Do you… want me to do anything for you? I don’t want this to be all about me.”

No one in who knows how long has ever asked him if he’d wanted to get in on the pleasure. He wasn’t allowed, as Cazador’s both favorite and least favorite spawn. He was happy to exercise the new freedom and finally, consensually get a mind-blowing blowjob.

“I would adore a little topping off, if you would, sweetness.” He traces his thumb from your bottom lip down to your jaw, tipping your head up to give him the space to kiss the now-dried shower of coagulated blood. He laps up whatever he can then presses one last kiss to your collarbone before sitting back to pop his trousers open and pull the seam at the top of his underwear.

You push yourself up and off of your bedroll and and move your makeshift pillow to use as padding for your knees. Before you touch anything, you press a gentle kiss to his the top of his tip and smile up at him, making sure he didn’t look uncomfortable.

“Return the favor afterwards?” You look directly up at Astarion, locking your eyes with his as you wrap your fingers around his base and begin suckling on his head.

“I could…” His head falls back and his hand finds itself on the back of your head, not pushing you down, just playing with the loose strands. “But I could also come to you in the middle of the night— surprise you, spring myself upon you and devour you. Would you care if anyone heard? The precious leader being lapped at and controlled by the evil, scary vampire?” As he continues his fantasy, you begin taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth, the bloodlessness helping with suppressing any gagging. “I’d wait till dark. Let everyone fall asleep, sneak into your tent… Then I’d taste, no… Ravage you.”

You look up at him, locking eyes as you take him completely down, desperately trying to convince him that he could have all that and more right now. He tuts and finally puts pressure on the back of your head, relishing in the feeling of you gagging and choking around him. “Don’t you worry, I’d leave enough of you to come back— ah, shit— for more.”

While it doesn’t last terribly long, it’s enough for him to reach his finish, where he pulls fully back and paints your face in ropes of heat. He puts a hand on your cheek, smearing his cum across your cheek and grinning down at you, completely breathless. He simply wipes himself off with his shirt, but he takes his time, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket to give you a more thorough clean.

“Now you have to come steal away to my tent some night, after that.” You laugh, putting yourself back together as he does the same. You take a peek around, and no one seems to have been disturbed, leaving you two a rare private moment. “I’d… really like that. If my blood helps, it would be useful to keep meeting up like this.”

“Oh, I feel wonderful now— I got fresh blood that squirmed on my fingers and finished me off, I’m practically a new man,” he lulls, already starting to stalk off to his tent. “Ta ta, get yourself all rested and recovered for tomorrow.” With that, he disappears, winking and smirking at you as he retreats.

You could barely process what just happened. The wounds on your neck barely feel real, even as you skim your fingertips over them. And you were in for more, apparently, so you barely slept, just imagined how Astarion was going to deliver tomorrow.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion imagine #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 imagine #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

[mikobeautifulheart]

Hiii (’◡’) I really liked that fan fiction of choso where he's jealous over the kitty but I think it would be so cute w nanaaamii plz plz💗(*ˊᗜˋ*)

Ahhh thank you for reading my fic (and liking it) 🥰.

Here we go

Jealousy

Tw: none, just fluff. But not edited.

FEATURING: NANAMI

It all started after a hard day's work. Another overtime.

Nanami sighed as he turns the key and steps inside your shared apartment, he really needed to just feel you right now.

"I'm back." He mumbled kicking off his shoes.

He dosent hear you move or respond...weird. He walks into the living room, sunlight comes in golden rays settling on your sleeping figure. His mouth upturns into a smile.

Until it dosent.

There on you peaceful rising chest was a white fluff ball, it's form also rising up and down. It took his spot.

Feeling something around you, your eyes slowly open to see a very exhausted Nanami.

"Welcome back Kento" you say sleepily sitting upright the white fluff now in your arms.

"What do you have there?" He asked.

You were to tierd to tell how he asked the question. Was he upset? Angery? Hard to tell.

"Oh this guy. I found him on our window sill this morning and he was injured."

Right on que the cat lifts one of its paws up revealing a small bandage wrapped around it.

Kento thought a vain in his head was going to burst when the cat turned to face him only to snuggle right under your face and reveal its big blue eyes.

There was something wrong with this cat. Cats don't just show up injured on a 6th floor apartment window. Cats don't smirk and hit people's nerves.

And most importantly they shouldn't look like a carbon copy of a white haired co worker that passes him off.

"He looks better already." Kento mumbled glaring at the cat.

"You know I actually have a cut here to" He said lifting his shirt up only too show half of his torso with a deep wound on one side.

"Oh Kento, why didn't you go to Shoko?! She would have foxed this in a minute!" You said putting the cat aside and getting up to grab your patch up supplies.

"She was on break and I wanted to see you." He sighed.

"But I see someone beat me to it." He glared at the cat.

You brought over a box and started attending to the wound.

"Kento what if it got infected? What if you made it worse? You cant just ignore this like it's nothing!" You said as you finished disinfecting it.

He only watched as the cat jumped off the couch and weaved between your legs.

"Aww isn't he the cutest." You said looking down at the cat.

"If you say so darling. How long is he going to be here anyway, i'm afraid his owners might begin to miss him"

"Actually he's a stray, he doesn't have anyone Ken, isn't that sad!"

"mm very, what do you suppose we do about it?" he asked glaring into the cats back.

"We should at least look after him until he heals, and I know this apartment doesn't allow pets but I spoke to the land lady and she said I can keep him here until he's better" You beamed only making him sigh.

He can't make you sad when you were this excited about having a cat, TEMPORARILY.

"Okay. We can keep him for now, but I need to rest and that means me and you. No cat."

The cat meowed loudly from the other room.

"I mean it."

"Okay Ken!" You said just glad you could keep the cat.

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: Tehe thanks for the request anon and sorry it took so long :( have a good whatever time.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fluff #kento nanami #nanami x reader #kento x reader

[limarieb-18]

was lifting at the gym today, remembered this video existed, n had the most sinful thoughts about cw!wanda…

[ wanda maximoff x fem!reader blurb below ]

[ 18+ | warnings: non-descriptive mentions of oral (w receiving), non-descriptive mentions of fingering (r receiving) ]

it starts off innocently: the two of you going to the gym together for your usual daily workout. since you started dating, you found that going together was a nice way to spend time together but still feel productive.

you like to begin with cardio (since it’s not your favorite most days, you like to get it over with as soon as possible), so the two of you typically begin on the treadmill with a steady jog. during the run, you both chat about whatever comes to mind, finding it makes the time go faster.

(in the meantime, you try to ignore the way her flushed cheeks and sweaty skin remind you of late nights with her in your bed — you between her legs, her hands tangled in your hair pulling you as close as possible. if you allow yourself to fully indulge in the thoughts, you swear you can hear her moaning your name.)

after you finish on the treadmill, you finally get to do exercises that you actually enjoy: weight lifting. though wanda prefers alternatives to lifting like boxing, she will never turn down the chance to see you strength training, with the way your muscles flex on each curl or the manner in which your brows automatically furrow together as you focus intensely on your form.

when you feel yourself getting tired in the middle of your last set, you sense a presence enter your mind: wanda. you don’t hesitate to drop any barriers, allowing her to enter it freely in order to communicate.

“don’t stop, detka,” she orders. “if you stop now, there’s no reward for you after.”

if your face was not already reddened from the exercise, it definitely was now. you simply nodded and finished your set with as much strength and haste as you could muster.

the two of you leave the gym in a blissful silence. although, wanda could tell you were anticipating the reward she had promised you; but, you knew better than to be a brat by pushing her to inquire further.

so, she drives you both back to your shared apartment. as she gets settled, dropping her keys on the counter, she can feel your presence — your eyes following every single one of her movements.

wanda loves how she does not even need to say anything, verbally or mentally, for you to know to remain quiet until she was ready. when she begins walking to the bathroom, you follow a few steps behind.

after stripping you both of your dirty, sweaty clothes, she takes your hands and brings you into the steamy shower. the water cascaded your skin as she pressed her lips to every inch of your body. her hands began moving south, gradually getting closer to where you needed her the most.

maybe you would continue going to the gym with her every day, even if the exercise and the rewards made your muscles a little sore.

#limarieb-18 #wanda maximoff #marvel #mcu #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #limarieb-18 wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader

[sgiandubh]

But first, time to say good-bye

It was to be a late departure (bureaucracy will someday kill us all...) from Athens, an endlessly diverted way North through a very early summer and some fitful sleep near the border, where poppies were already in bloom and elusive to the camera:

I promised to share with you my story with Mycenae the day I would leave Greece for good. Yesterday was the day, so here goes.

I first went to Mycenae on a horrendously rainy day, in November 2018. The place struck me as a haphazard settlement of sorts in the wake of some ancient apocalypse, which was absolutely correct. We stayed in my colleague from Culture and Press' car, munched on some horribly stale koulouria as all hell broke loose outside, when she finally told me: ' you know what, I am happy we made it here: in Mycenae, you can only hear and tell the truth, you know'.

I have to say I ogled in suspicion. I was wet, hungry and completely unused to the Greek way of dressing everything up in mythology. She spoke Greek as I speak French and knew perfectly well what she was doing. She was casting a spell - an unbreakable one, for which I will forever be grateful. Oh, and as all myths would have it, the Lion Gate was closed, by the time we arrived.

It took me almost two years to go back there, during the pandemic, scared summer of 2020, when everything was empty and glorious to fully take in, like a big gulp of colors and sounds and life. My digs were to be always the same: unassuming Petite Planète, the last B&B in town, a stone throw away from Agamemnon's treasury, owned by the Dassis clan of archaeologists.

Their story begins in Constantinople, around 1875, when Konstantinos, a young orphan, begged Heinrich Schliemann to take him along to wherever he was traveling. He quickly became indispensable and helped with the first digs in Mycenae. He was the one who found Agamemnon's mask:

When the digging was over, Schliemann bought him a tiny house for two pence and a half and told him to stay there. 'Many people will come to visit and they will need food and a roof. Make sure you do your best and it will make you a rich man.'

And they came. In droves. If you ask nicely, V. will show you their reception rosters, safely tucked away in a bank vault, in Argos. I had the privilege to see Virginia Woolf's signature and I was stunned. Schliemann's two pence house is now doubled by a garish modern addition you can see from the main road as La Belle Hélène B&B ('my cousin Agamemnon is a greedy idiot', says V), but Schliemann's room is piously kept as it was when the strange German gentleman left them to their fate. As is, they did not become rich, but that does not matter. You will always find a place at their wonderful table, where Mamma Dassis cooks the same food they ate back in Constantinople and they would not have it otherwise. The new, bigger and better B&B is called Petite Planète because of V's father undying passion for Saint Exupéry's Little Prince. It permeates everything without being obtrusive, because sometimes 'the essential is invisible to the eye'.

Back in 2020, they were worried. Very worried. The Lion Gate was open again, but the 'cretins at Google' wouldn't have it and kept on listing it as closed, on their maps. People were canceling their bookings. The village stood unusually quiet and forlorn.

I made no promises. But I did phone some people at the Greek Ministry of Culture. The least person I expected to be of any help, H, a transparent, mousey freeloader, who was always the last to leave all of our events in the hope we'd take her to dinner in town, happened to be some sort of underling at the Archaeological Sites Department. She immediately understood what I wanted her to do.

Three days after I left Mycenae, on my road trip to the Mani peninsula, I received this message in my Booking inbox:

This started it all. And from that moment, all my Greek roads will lead there. It's also been a long time since I have trouble forcefully paying them for my monthly stays (booking and paying in advance helps, though), something they adamantly refused last time I went there:

'G., the girl wants to pay.'

'This is ridiculous, of course. This girl is family.'

Someday, I just know I will be back. For good.

After five years and a half, many more fabulous stories (Mycenean potter and poet, anyone? mad postman? Kyria Stamatoula and her goats? Kyrios Pandelis and his jams?) the only thing I know about Greece is that, for all its (many) misgivings, this land is about two things:

Friends and Heroes.

#psa #life as is #Peloponnese #mycenae

[aysegust]

MORE THAN A HEALER. - K.B

Pairings: (Kaz Brekker x Reader)

A/N: Hello beautiful people, I hope you’ll like this part. I kinda feel doubt writing this… I wanted to show as much of Kaz’s vulnerable side. Which was ultimately is Y/N… I kinda mess up with the storyline of the canon but who cares? We are doing what we want. It’s a fanfic! I ended things openly so maybe I’ll write a third part but I don’t think so here is the final part of Just A Healer fiction.

Word Count: 3.279

Warnings: Slight abuse but nothing further, mention of Wylan as subtle. :) Angst but Fluff in the end.

You can read the first part here: Just A Healer. - K.B

It all happened too fast, so quick.

One thing you knew was how ugly Pekka’s face at the moonlight the next thing you knew was the pain behind your back.

Suddenly, the loss of vision and consciousness was just beginning of something disgusting.

It all happened too fast, Y/N.

Slowly, when your eyes opened, you looked around. Your vision was still blurry at first but after few seconds your eyes adjusted to the light.

The place surrounded in a dim light whereas it was cold and concentrated. But where were you? You thought to yourself. The place looked like it was a dungeon and the window was barely just there. It was so small that you couldn’t see outside that much.

You closed your eyes for a moment. Trying to memorize every detail about why you were here and what happened.

“Shit.” You cursed bitterly. Pekka found you were a Grisha and wanted to hurt Kaz so you were kidnapped and yet the worst part is… Pekka Rollins isn’t going to be the one who kills you, it will be Kirigan. That son of a bitch. You thought.

You touched to your neck and healed the wound. Well, it was a benefit for you to be a healer, you could heal yourself quickly. You got up after the dizziness was over. You looked around and there wasn’t any useful for you to protect yourself from. There were only straws on the ground.

You sighed and the looming feeling hit you again. Just like before. What if Kaz wouldn’t find you? What if he thinks you betrayed him too?

But he was a clever man, he would investigate this. Your thoughts went on and on again. Not before you got cut by Kirigan’s shadow… As the thought crossed your mind, you heard a sound. Footsteps.

Suddenly the door opened and you saw Pekka’s guys. You could handle the two of them in a combat fight but there were coming three more.

One of the guy smirked devilishly to you. “Don’t be naughty, you witch.” He said harshly. You wanted to punch his nose but you were outnumbered. Quickly that guy handcuffed you and put a chain on your handcuff. He was leading you forcefully to walk behind him.

As you unfortunately, forcefully walked behind him, you looked around. Observing the place and the Dime Lions. It was cruel, walking straight to your death.

But you had to put your shit together. You weren’t going to give up so easily. You will gonna escape that place, you just needed the right moment.

As you went outside through the doors, you looked at the Harbor. Either you were going to face Kirigan or he was coming for you.

As you saw six guy in the corner of the deck, you then looked at the three guy on the ship. Well, it wasn’t going to be easy. Hell, when things were easy?

You closed your eyes for a moment. Walk through the fire, Y/N. You thought to yourself, trying to encourage yourself to make everything better, you opened your eyes and looked at the sky.

Maybe he was worried?

Was he?

-

Three hours passed, you were supposed to meet Kaz in his office. Well, he wanted to debrief you about the upcoming plan he was working on. He had already told Inej and Jesper but he wanted to talk to you about it alone.

Well, your presence calmed him. He wasn’t much of a man shows himself but around you, at least his thoughts were stable and he can feel himself relax a bit. Not only you were just a healer, but his healer too.

Of course, he thinks you are more than just a healer. Because you were gracious. Everything he wasn’t be and deeply inside, he admired it. The pasts of himself, his crows wasn’t bright.

If it were bright then none of you wouldn’t be in the Barrel.

You were a precious asset for the team and Kaz, well, he felt more than that but he was just too scared to admit it. How could he?

Feelings are just a burden. Caring only makes you weak and Kaz couldn’t be weak.

He is feared, the Dirtyhands. Bastard of the Barrel. The trick is the not love anything else. He always thought it. Whenever doing some paperwork or looking at building map’s, sometimes you crossed into his mind. Recently, the severe times of you crossing into his mind just rises and he felt, he felt uncomfortable but weirdly good.

So, three hours passed… where were you? Kaz. thought to himself. He got up from his chair and walked out from the door to heard the loud noise coming from the tables. He looked at the bar-side and no trace of you.

Then he saw Inej, the Wraith, entering to the Crow Club with worrying glances. Their eyes met briefly and Inej straightly walked to Kaz’s side.

Kaz felt uneasy but he didn’t show it. He just stood there monotony. “Kaz, we need to talk.” Inej said with a hurry. She looked really worried.

Kaz led her to his office and once the door’s closed, he turned to her and waited for her to speak.

“It’s about Y/N.”

Kaz never felt this fear before. The way his heart beaten so fast, it was cruel. It wasn’t fair. He looked at Inej as his eyebrows furrowed. “What happened?” He said curiously not showing Inej how he is feeling inside, that anxious feeling grows bigger every passing second.

“I was wandering around the Barrel, and catching up with some informations.” She paused to catch a breath. “There are rumors about a Grisha in the Barrel. A Healer.” She stared at Kaz for a moment. “Turns out Pekka Rollins, caught the Grisha and he is going to send the Grisha back to the Ravka. Through the Fold.”

Kaz closed his eyes for a moment. He needed it. Suppressing what Inej said was a hard truth. “It is Y/N. Pekka Rollins caught Y/N.” Inej said it with a pure worry. Her eyes flashed so wide and she feared of losing her dear friend.

Kaz’s whole life stopped at that minute. The man, who took his brother from him, is going to took his healer from him too. He couldn’t.

Kaz couldn’t let that happen. He waited to take his brother’s revenge. He couldn’t lose Y/N. He couldn’t.

He looked at Inej with anger range filling his eyes. “Find out where Pekka hides Y/N, if he’s going to send her to Ravka, they will be on the Harbor. So it must be close to that place.”

Inej nodded and walked hurriedly towards the door then she looked back at Kaz. “What are you gonna do?” She said softly. “I’m gonna make him suffer.” He replied coldly.

After Kaz came up with a plan, it wasn’t going to be easy but they had to save Y/N. So that’s what mattered. He tried to calm himself, he had to get his things together for your sake. But Kaz wanted revenge. He wanted blood.

As they pulled you over harshly and forced you to enter the ship, they threw you to the basement of the ship. As you whined in pain, you blinked rapidly and looked around. After you were pushed, you felt dizzy but you closed your eyes and pulled yourself together. You gotta do something.

There must be a way to get rid of these handcuffs, you thought. You got up and looked around. There were stocks of some oranges, cucumbers and other conserves.

After quietly searching the basement, you saw a dagger. It was placed closer to the fruits. You took it and tried to open the handcuff with it. It was hard, since you were handcuffed and trying to hold the dagger while working hard for opening the handcuff, you sweared.

Being a soldier and being one of Kaz’s crows helped you learn new skills. You were talented, strong. You weren’t weak. Most Grisha’s in Ravka prejudiced healers. They thought they were weak whilst they had several powerful gifts. But you never saw your gift as a weakness. It was your biggest strength.

After putting a work on it, you unlocked the cuffs and brushed your palms lightly. You took the dagger and closed your eyes for a moment. Your heart raced so fast, you had to collect your thoughts.

You opened your eyes and walked slowly to the stairs. As you slowly opened the cover, you heard footsteps, so you closed it back and pulled yourself back. Then you heard a man’s voice. The guy was laughing and the next minute, he opened the basement’s door. He looked at you on top of it and smiled at you cockily.

Of course you sat back before he opened the cover, you acted like you were cuffed. He then slowly walked down the stairs and closed the cover. “Look at you, witch.” He smiled. “When I’m finished with you, you are gonna regret why you just didn’t kill yourself.” He smirked disgustingly and placed his hand on your chin harshly. He then, licked your cheek. You felt disgusted and you squeezed your eyes shut. “Oi, the thing’s I’m gonna do to you…” He whispered to your ear.

You slowly pulled the dagger and while he was kissing your neck, you stabbed him on his chest. Then he whined in pain and looked at you with shock. “When I’m finished with you, you’re going to regret why you, just didn’t kill yourself, you fucking bastard.” You whispered with anger. Then by the time he was about the react your words you broke his neck.

You got up and took a deep breath. There was eight of them left. You stayed still for a moment. It was all happening too fast, your mind was spinning and you just felt the fear mixed with disgust so badly.

Then as you hurriedly walked to the upstairs, you opened the cover but you heard a muffled sound. Something was odd. You slowly lifted your head and looked around.

-

As the Crows located where Y/N is, they went on their way, Inej was on the roofs, as ready as she’ll be, Jesper was very furious when he learned your kidnapping. Jesper and Kaz went to the Harbor and while they were hiding behind some of building, they saw you with handcuffs, as they forced you to walk to inside of the ship.

Kaz looked at the rooftop and tilted his head. Inej understood that the plan was on. The Wraith, as she landed on the ground, she hid so perfectly behind the shadows. Well, she was tiny but very strong. She hid behind some of cargo sacks. There was two man standing close to her, so Inej moved behind them silently and slit their throats ever so flawlessly.

There were three guys on the ship, while two of them were standing on the deck. One of the guy on the ship walked to the basement while there was two of them stayed present on the ship. As they were controlling the area.

It was Jesper’s turn. Now it was time to expose themselves. Jesper walked arrogantly on the ground. He looked at the two man. “It’s restricted area! Go away,” One of the guy, whose were standing on the deck warned Jesper as he was walking closer to them. “But would that be fun? Seriously?” He then hit the guy’s face with his gun.

As the other guy reacted to Jesper by pulling his own gun, Jesper grinned and fired his gun. “Never dare to held your gun to me again!” He lashed out and looked at the two guy on the ship. They were trying to hit Jesper with their guns but Jesper’s reactions was too fast.

Then he pulled his own pistol and as he is being the Sharpshooter, he never misses.

After Jesper’s killing the other two guy, Kaz walked to the deck and got on the board. As the basement’s door opened and revealed you to his eyes, your eyes met and he felt his heart skipped a beat. “Kaz?” You said surprisedly. He didn’t understand why you got surprised about seeing him.

You quickly pulled yourself and walked to his way. As you looked around, you saw the other men of Pekka’s bodies around the ship and the deck. “You came for me.” You looked at Kaz and felt tears brimmed in your eyes.

He furrowed his eyebrows. As he was about to say something, Jesper pulled you in a tight hug. Was he crying, what? You thought. “Jess, are you crying?” You smiled with tears. “You bloody idiot! Of course I am!” He pulled you closer to himself, suddenly you were out of breath. “Jesper! You are squeezing me-“

He let you go softly. “I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s just you know…” You smiled and squeezed his hand. While Kaz backed away, Inej hugged you softly. You could see the tears in Inej’s eyes. Which ached your heart.

“We have to go, there would be a mess.” As Kaz said, you and Inej let go of each other. You looked at Kaz. “What?” You asked. Kaz looked at you briefly. “This is just one thing, Pekka Rollins wouldn’t know what hit him.” He said with harsh tone.

“Kaz, what did you do?” You asked worriedly. He looked at you bitterly. “Something I should’ve done before.”

He didn’t reply anything further as all of you went back to the Slat. Well, while you were on the way back to the Slat, you watched Kaz. All of the way back… You just feel this thing inside you, where you couldn’t just pretend things anymore.

When you went back to the Slat, you heard a loud explosion coming from the streets. “What is happening?” You said it confusedly. Jesper glanced at you softly. “We are gonna be in a big fight, Y/N.” You looked at him as your eyebrows furrowed. “What?” You didn’t understand. “The boss, well, he just blew up The Dime Lions.” Jesper looked at you amusedly. You were in a utter shock as you heard what Jesper said.

And there was a boyish looking guy appeared as he was walking out on Kaz’s office. “Who is that?” You asked as you showed the boy who walked out on Kaz’s office. Jesper amusedly grinned. “He is the one who blew up the places.” You looked at Jesper with wide eyes. “Bloody hell..” You said.

After you left Jesper’s side, you walked hurriedly towards to Kaz’s office. You knocked the door and after a moment you opened it and saw Kaz was looking to the sky. “Can I come in?” You said softly.

He then turned to you and gestured you to step inside. “Kaz.. Did you blew up Pekka’s properties?” You looked at him worriedly which he was finding it uneasy. He was fighting himself everyday trying to keep you in a distance but after today, he just wanted everyone who wronged him, pay.

“I did.” You looked at him in a shock as he said it. For a second he refused to meet your gaze. You didn’t know what to say to him. You weren’t expecting him to save you up in the first place but he did. You approached slowly to his side. Careful to not bother him.

“Thank you, Kaz.” You were feeling this thing in your chest, whenever you see him, your heart beats faster. He was just so distant but after tonight, hearing what he did… maybe he cared for you.

“You are welcome.” He said quietly while he looked at you in a different way. But all you were wondering why he did all of this. You needed a clarification, an answer. What he did was a huge thing. “Why?” You said, nearly a whisper. He raised an eyebrow at your question. He knew what you were asking, he was just choose to ignore it.

But you insisted. “Kaz- Why did you did all of this? It’s a declaration of a war.” You were trying to reason with him. The question you wanted to really ask was hanging dry in your throat. He was watching the skyline of Ketterdam, there were noises. After the explosion, siren sounds and other’s faded in distance as you went on. “Why did you save me?”

The question you asked triggered something him in inside. He closed your eyes for a moment as he tried to collect his thoughts. “You are one of us.” He said straightly. “Crows are loyal to their fellows. One of them in the pack gets hurt, they will protect them.” You looked at him. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“While I was in that dungeon, the thoughts were going on and on in my mind…” You admitted softly. “I thought lot of things, primarily how to escape this place but something happened… and I thought-“ You paused. His eyes were on you at the whole time you were speaking. He was observing every little detail about you. Every little mimic, expression. His heart crushed when he saw tears in your eyes.

“I thought maybe, uh, you would think I betrayed you.” He looked at you with a furrowed expression. You didn’t look at him so you explained further. “You know, I betrayed my own country. I ran away from the King’s orders. I know you don’t trust me and I felt maybe you thought that way too after my disappearance.” You said it without catching a breath.

You were too scared to meet his gaze. “No.” It was hard for Kaz to open up his feelings. He had just shown the world that he cared for his crow. Which was a weak sign for the others. But he could’ve manage it. He could’ve make them suffer. Because he was feared. He declared a war against Pekka. But the way you said these things pissed Kaz.

Well he didn’t trust you for a long time. Of course, Kaz is a careful man. Man of mind and he is too cautious when he takes a move. But after seeing what you do, helping his crows and proving your loyalty at every time. of course Kaz trusted you.

“Y/N,” Kaz whispered. His voice sounded crispy. “I do trust you, more than you know.” You looked at him as a tear slipped away to your cheek. “I cannot offer you more but, never forget that you are valuable to the team…” He paused, struggling inside. Because once he admits to you, it would change everything.

“Valuable to me…” You smiled softly. You wouldn’t push him for anything. “Thank you, Kaz.” You said it again. “If we go to a war, we’ll go… I’ll always be there for you.” You said surely. What you were feeling Kaz was more than just companionship, you loved being near to him. It doesn’t matter how twisted he is and well, you loved him.

It was all you needed to hear. So you stepped away and approached to the door side. He turned and watched you to walk away. For once, don’t disappear. He thought. He looked at his gloves and closed his eyes momentarily. “Stay,” He said briefly. It sounded like a muffled sound but you heard anyway. You paused at your step and didn’t dare to look at his way.

“Stay here.” He said and then you turned to him. When you met his gaze, you felt the warmth inside your body. Who knew, in Kaz’s coldness, there was warmth.

#kaz brekker #shadow and bone #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker x reader #kazzle dazzle #kaz brekker x you #reader insert #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz rietveld #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker fanfic

[solecize]

fic preview: save the date | san x reader

from middle school walls to lecture halls, choi san was your ultimate nemesis that, for most of your life, fought to do everything better than you. even worse, there was no escape from him when your older sister and his older brother were childhood sweethearts, disgustingly in love. years later, the inevitable wedding bells had now come around the corner for them and as her maid of honour, you had one goal: making sure nobody fucked up the wedding. specifically, you were not going to let san, the best man, fuck up the big day.

unfortunately, when the ring goes missing less than twenty hour hours before the wedding, you have no choice but to work with the said best man who you drunkenly slept with days before the wedding - yes, the same one that you hated for over a decade - to track down a ten thousand dollar ring. starting from midnight, it's a race against the clock for you and san to go on the wildest chase of your life to, well, save the date. 

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: san/female reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. non idol au, academic rivals, enemies to lovers, fluff, slight angst 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. foul language, violence, blood, mention of drugs and drug use, general substance use (smoking and drinking), more to be added 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. n/a 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. tbd.

  being entrusted with the role of maid of honour meant a lot of things to different people, but it was different for you. you happily accepted the title for your sister’s wedding with one main goal in mind: making sure that no one fucks up the big day. specifically, making sure that choi san did not fuck up the big day. 

  unfortunately, with less than twenty-four hours before the wedding due to ring for your sister and san’s older brother, you realized that you were the one that fucked up.

  if someone were to tell you that you ended up dodging a robbery, lugging around a broken e-scooter, outrunning a rabid wild animal, and losing your phone the night before your sister’s wedding, you would have asked them what drugs they were on. and given a year’s worth of stress in anticipating and planning and fittings, you’d likely even ask them to share some. the worse part was that, you’d actually fucked up forty-eight hours before your sister’s wedding and the night you were currently having was just the cherry on top.

  but, that is where you found yourself in a foreign city with no money and no idea how to get back to your hotel at four in the morning. the only thing you could do was stare at choi san, still in his clothes from the rehearsal dinner earlier that night and was preoccupied with nursing his bruised knuckles. 

  san was not a smoker, but he leaned against the wall of a closed coffee shop with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “you think this is all my fault, don’t you?” he grumbled, finally meeting your sharp gaze.

  this was not even the beginning of the story, though. the real beginning of the story begins in middle school circa 2012, when your first ever crush ruined everything before anything could even happen by simply opening his mouth. 

  choi san was the transfer student that all of the girls in your year whispered and giggled about. you only caught a glimpse of him on the first day of school when you could barely make out his face at the school assembly. 

  “he’s so freaking cute! did you get to see him, y/n?” 

  your best friend at the time jogged up to you at lunch and by this point in the day, you’d heard from nearly all your classmates about the mysterious new kid. you were a bit exasperated, feeling as though you were missing out.

  you shook your head. “no. i think i saw the side of his face, but that’s it.”

  “look at his instagram,” she swooned, tapping on her phone until his profile came up.

  you would never admit it aloud, but you thought your heart skip a beat. “that’s what he looks like? oh my god, he plays basketball, too?”

  that pretty much sealed the deal for you. without shame, you pulled out your own phone to follow san on social media, since it already looked like he was gaining mutuals from other people in your school. everyday from then on seemed to be a game of “can you spot your crush” at school and you got the closest when you lingered a little bit too long after gym class, long enough that you left as soon as basketball try-outs for the boys team began. 

  it was 2012 and nothing else mattered to you except crushing over choi san from respectable distance, gangnam style, one direction, and reading all of the hunger games books. it was like this for the first couple months at school, until you and san finally encountered one another.

  you heard from others that san was incredibly bright and academically gifted, so you were hoping that, he too, would join robotics club. it felt like a dream when your wishes came true and san walked into the first meeting of the season.

  “you’re totally staring at him,” whispered yeosang on this day, to which you elbowed him for. yes, you were definitely staring, but he could have just chose to keep his mouth shut.

  you’d avoided directly speaking to san for the first few meetings, just out of nerves alone. eventually, the club’s first major competition was to come around the corner and the club had to brainstorm their plan. 

  as one of the returning members from the year prior, you expected to be met with respect and have your opinions be considered important. the faculty supervisor had even told you that he had hopes for you taking over as captain in the next year, after the current leader, hongjoong, graduates. 

  “i can take charge of the programming team,” you offered, as hongjoong went over the challenge announcement of the competition.

  that was the moment everything went wrong.

  it looked there was no opposition, until you heard a chuckle from the other side of a room. you were confused, not recognizing the voice. spinning around, you saw that it was san and your heart dropped.

  “you? do you even know how to code?” his eyebrows were raised. 

  your jaw could have easily hit the floor, as you narrowed your eyes at him. “what?” was all you could say.

  “you’re a girl, there’s no way you should be in charge of programming.”

  that year, there were only three girls in robotics club, which was an improvement from the two the year before. it was you, who was the only female member with experience in the club, and then sunyoung and yena. 

  sunyoung never fucking spoke, she never even made eye contact with anyone. she kept to herself and was never going to speak up, but you knew that she was the highest ranking student in your year and had skipped an entire grade. you couldn’t believe sunyoung let that slide. meanwhile, yena always insisted that she was “one of the boys” and was the kind of girl to talk your head off about how she hates taylor swift. you might’ve even heard her murmur in agreement to what san said.

  “are you a fucking idiot?” your thirteen year old self snapped at san, eliciting gasps from around the room. 

  of course, your foul mouth came from none other than your headstrong older sister and at the same moment you began forming a life-long hatred for choi san, she was a couple blocks away at the high school, falling in love with choi san’s older brother during chemistry class. it was a classic high school love story, meeting as lab partners and experiencing first love in between shelves at the library. 

  one day, when your sister happily skipped into your room and sang that she now had a boyfriend, it had been weeks since you already declared san your nemesis. from what you remember, she was so head over heels for her lab partner that it was nauseating - she had to have been, since she was now marrying him over ten years later. 

  “he has a little brother your age, you know,” she said, later the same night. “goes to your school, maybe you’ve met him.”

  the two of you were relaxing on your bed, as your sister scooted closer to show you pictures of her new and first-ever boyfriend on her phone. you raised an eyebrow at her, wondering who she was talking about. 

  “maybe. what’s his name?” you asked.

  “san. choi san.”

#choi san x reader #choi san fanfic #choi san scenarios #choi san imagine #choi san x oc #choi san x you #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #choi san fluff #choi san angst #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #kpop fanfic

[pennylanefics]

New Job - Jeremy Swayman

a/n: hello! this is my first time writing for hockey, so please be aware :) i am a baseball girlie through and through but thanks to tiktok i now have a new obsession and new crushes, which means new motivation to write :D

summary: refer to this request

word count: ~2.6k

A new city, a new team, and a new opportunity. It was all so exciting, but that also came with stepping out of your comfort zone.

With your new position as a photographer for the Boston Bruins, you were being introduced to everyone on the team, every manager, every coach, a ton of people. However, you were a very shy person, preferring to keep to yourself most of the time; it’s why photography was perfect for you.

But it was all part of the job, to get to know the people you are photographing and allow them to trust you and feel comfortable around you, enough for them to smile for the camera and not ignore you. And you would be absolutely crazy if you turned this offer down, sports photography is your dream, and to be able to live it every day was wonderful.

This whole process was a regular occurrence for you, as you had bounced around a few teams, so it was nothing out of the ordinary, but things felt different this time around. When it was time to finally meet the team before practice one day, you sat near the entrance where players come in, with the other photographer who was “training” you, in a sense, and showing you around the arena and such.

Everyone was very nice and friendly, asking where you came from, how long you’ve been doing this, getting to know you a little bit better, it was great. But when Jeremy Swayman walked in, everything lit up. He was on his own, a black backpack on his back, a beanie covering his hair, but he had a huge smile on his face.

“Hello, hello!!” He begins to walk you and Cindy, the other photographer by your side. “You must be new.” He stops in front of you and reaches his hand out.

“I’m (Y/N), I’m the new additional photographer for the team,” you introduce yourself, shaking his hand. Both of you pause as your hands meet, taking notice of how warm and soft his skin is, gazing into his eyes as you do.

“I’m Jeremy, it’s nice to meet you. So you’ll be the one following us around with a phone and asking us questions as we walk into practice?” He teases, nudging your arm gently, feeling comfortable doing so.

“Uh, no, not exactly,” you chuckle, looking down at your camera. “I’ll be the one up in the rafters taking aeiral shots and be on the sidelines during games,.” His eyes widen in surprise as you describe part of your duties.

“Are you serious? That’s sick.” Since no one else was coming in right now, you took a moment to show him some of your popular photos with other teams, one of which being a shot from above after the Florida Panthers beat the Carolina Hurricanes, sending them to the Stanley Cup, confetti falling all around the rink, the team crowding together to celebrate.

“Wait, I saw this photo! The NHL posted it in like a photo dump they did of that week’s games. This is yours?”

“Yeah, all mine,” your face heats up a little at how excited he is. There was no denying it, Jeremy is a very handsome man, and you had to admit, when you got into photographing hockey, he was one of the first players that you had a small crush on.

“Well, you’re incredibly talented,” he compliments, sending you a wink while beginning to walk away. “See you around, (Y/N)!” He threw up a piece sign and was off to the locker room to get ready for practice.

“Jeremy’s the sunshine of the team, literally,” Cindy finally says, the last few players finally coming through the doors, both of you pausing to snap some candids.

“He is?”

“He always has a smile on his face and is almost always in a good mood. So if you need cheering up, he’s the one to go to.”

“Isn’t that unprofessional, though?”

“Not here. I’ve been with this team for years, they do things a little differently. They enjoy getting to know the media and those that work around them, becoming work friends and such. But if that’s uncomfortable for you, feel free to tell them, or me. I’ll put a stop to it.”

“No, no, it’s alright. It’s nice that they treat photographers and others not within the actual team like human beings,” a chuckle escapes you, deciding that keeping your mouth shut regarding how a team you previously worked for outside of the NHL was like.

Your first game went quite well, the Bruins ended up winning against the Colorado Avalanche, giving you the perfect opportunity to capture the iconic goalie hug between Jeremy and Linus. With your camera lined up, Jeremy comes into view and skates right to Linus, you snap photo after photo, not taking your finger off the shutter button.

After they skate off the ice, you smile to yourself, knowing you got some good ones. Finding Cindy in all the chaos of fans cheering and trying to leave, she guides you down the tunnel and back to the makeshift office that’s usually set up for the media.

She goes through all the steps of how to upload the photos for the editors, and even though all of it was pretty similar to other teams, it was nice having a refresher and getting to know their way of doing things. She describes the process of what is expected after games, setting everything up that you would need, and making sure you had everything and were ready to go for their next game in a couple days.

As time goes by, you start to get the hang of things with your new team. Everything was going smoother than you expected, you were quickly finding your place here, and it was all working out so well.

One night, after a rather tough loss to the Leafs, you sat in the media room, scrolling through the photos you took throughout the game, exhaustion setting in, the long day finally catching up with you. Suddenly, a soft knock sounds, your body turning around on instinct to find the source.

There stands Jeremy, a smile on his face, clean and dressed in his post-game clothes.

“How’d the photos come out?” 

He made a small habit of doing this. On his way out of the stadium after games, he would make a stop by your office, saying hi and asking if he could see some photos. You would always tell him that the raw photos aren’t going to be the best and there would be a ton to look through every time, but he didn’t care.

He claims to enjoy your company and the peace and quiet of the office after such intense games. But you were your normal self, not very talkative, doing your job as you would if he was not beside you, and oftentimes forgetting that he was even there.

“So, what’s your postgame routine? What do you like to do once you get home?” Jeremy asks as you pack your things up, carefully placing your camera in its protective bag. After shutting your laptop down, you slide it into the case, and then the case into your backpack.

“I sometimes get food on the way home, or I head straight home, shower, get ready for bed, and  then read or scroll on social media, depending on what I’m in the mood for,” you explain softly, gathering all of your things, wanting to head home.

“What kind of books do you like?” He was wanting to make conversation, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you were far too burnt out from running around the arena, especially since you’ve been here since early in the morning.

“Mainly romance and fantasy,” you grin. Jeremy doesn’t seem deterred by your short response, but he can tell, just by your body language, that you’d like to get going.

“That’s a nice way to escape the world after days like this. Well, I’ll see you around, have a nice night,” he smiles and waves at you as he exits the room, leaving you on your own.

That’s how things continued for every game. You ended up telling Cindy one day, and she couldn’t help but laugh; since you were with the media team, you got to room together at hotels for away games. The team was in Seattle to play the Kraken, and since it was a late game, you didn’t need to be at the arena until closer to four.

That’s how the two of you ended up sharing experiences you’ve had with the team and specific players, and Cindy lands on none other than the brunette goalie.

“Sway has actually told me that he’s been sitting with you while you browse through the photos after games,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows in a teasing manner. Your face heats up at her statement, and you hide your face in your hands.

“He, uh, he does. I told him it’s nothing special, but he insists it’s a nice way to decompress.”

“He told me that you’re quiet,” she says. You freeze and stare at her. Immediately, her eyes widen and she feels embarrassed. “Oh! No, no, I didn’t mean to make it sound like he said it in a bad way. But he…okay, don’t tell him I told you this, but he thinks it’s sweet. I promise. And, it is pretty cute.”

“What is?” You wonder. Your heart was racing with all of this, you didn’t think Jeremy thought of you in that way, but here you were.

“You know, the sunshine, golden retriever boyfriend and the black cat girlfriend. You’re grumpy, he’s sunshine.”

“I’m not grumpy,” you defend, crossing your arms. “Just…quiet.”

“Exactly. Jer really enjoys being with you, from what he’s told me. And he said you even let him edit some photos?” You chuckle softly and look down at your hands that relaxed in your lap.

“I let him edit some of him and Linus for fun. I didn’t send them off to the actual editors or social media team, I promise, it was a little-”

“I think you should,” she cuts you off, her eyes lighting up. “That would be such a neat idea, if we let the players edit photos of themselves and send them to the admins for their socials!” She starts going on and on about the idea and how it would be such a fun concept, if the players even want to participate.

“We’ll have to ask either during arrivals or on the plane tomorrow if they’d be up for it.”

She continues on, but your mind was on Jeremy, he thought you were charming and sweet, and that’s all you cared about.

After the game ends in another loss, right on time, Jeremy steps into your little makeshift office, and you were more than prepared for him this time.

“Am I allowed to see these shots tonight? Or should I wait until they’re posted in an article?” He wonders. You chuckle quietly and shake your head. He had mentioned to you the last time that he reads articles here and there just for the off chance that your photos are included. And you couldn’t ignore the flutter in your heart when he told you this.

“I got a pretty good one of you making a save in the first period,” you say, turning your laptop towards him to show him. His left leg was stretched out just as the puck makes contact with the padding, blocking it and shoving it away.

“Shit, who knew I’d look so good making saves,” he jokes, running a hand over his slightly damp hair, having showered already.

You laugh with him and turn the laptop back, remembering what you and Cindy talked about earlier in the day.

“I think I already know your answer for this, but Cindy and I were talking and she thinks it would be fun to get you and the guys to maybe edit some photos, like you did, but they would actually be posted. With credits for the editing, of course,” you tease. Just like Cindy, his eyes light up in amazement.

“Hell yes!” He immediately responds, scooting closer to you to look at any more photos he could edit. “Can I do like five? Because one was not enough, I wanna do more.” You can’t help but smile at his eagerness, allowing him to scroll through some of the better photos you’ve taken the past few games.

“You can do as many as you’d like but I can’t promise they’d all get posted. If you want to ask the guys if they’d be interested, I’ll have one person come in here after every game and edit, and then we’ll have a collection in a few weeks to post.”

“Uh, I think it would be a good idea, but…” he starts, but pauses his train of thought, his hand coming up to tug at his lip as he silently decides if he should continue.

“But…what?” You push, hoping he would just speak his mind.

“I like this being our thing,” he murmurs, shy, almost. He doesn’t meet your eyes, and this is a different side of Jeremy you haven’t seen before.

“What?” You are very lost with what he’s trying to say, but you give him time to explain himself.

“I like having this time with you, after games. It’s become a routine for me, something I look forward to, and I really love being in your presence, especially after tough games that end in losses. It’s like you reading fantasy books, it takes you out of reality, and for a time, I can forget that I took part in a loss for my team and take my mind away from it.”

“By looking at photos of said game?” You counteract. But Jeremy sees your point. How can he be taken away from a game his team lost when he’s actively looking at photos of them losing from the entire night?

“By…being around you,” he whispers, looking up at you. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire at this point. Was he being serious? “Spending time with you, everything else disappears. And I know that sounds cheesy and we don’t fully know each other aside from talking about your work and such, but, if you are up for it, I’d like to take you out on a real date.”

Now you were beyond confused, but thoroughly surprised in a good way. And by your reaction, or lack thereof, he must have assumed you weren’t interested, because he immediately deflects.

“Or, if you prefer we keep things professional, that’s totally okay. I understand you work for the team and it would complicate things, but-”

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Sway,” you reply, a small smile stretching on your face. He slowly grins and leans closer to you.

“Really?” He asks in disbelief.

“Yeah. I think you’re a very wonderful guy and I’d love to get to know you outside of this…informal and professional setting, let’s put it that way,” you laugh, turning towards him to let him know you were serious.

“Good. Because I think you’re very cute and I need more than these after-game meetings,” he replies, a bright smile on his face as well.

“So are you going to be upset if I ask the other guys to come in here and do the same, to edit photos?” You wonder, your voice dripping with a teasing tone. Jeremy laughs softly and leans over and kisses your cheek.

“As long as none of the meetings end the way this one did tonight, I’ll be alright.”

#jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman imagines #jeremy swayman x reader #hockey fanfic #hockey #nhl fanfiction #jeremy swayman fanfic #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

[onceuponapuffin]

Part 3!!

Okay, this thing needs a name. Please suggest ideas in the comments :) I know this part is tedious, but the thing with self-insert is you have Establishing to do before any Real Action happens. We'll get there, just hang on.

Beginning || Previous || Next

***********

The shaking must have been more visible than you thought, because Muriel is at your side before you can speak. They touch your shoulder gently.

“Um, excuse me,” they say, “Sorry, but you’re shaking an awful lot. Maybe you should sit down.” You nod, and it takes concentration, but with Muriel’s help you make it to the sofa. Apparently caffeine and adrenaline aren’t the best mix. Your breathing speeds up, despite your best efforts, and the rest of the room feels fuzzy. Shit, you do not need this right now. There’s talking and movement, but listening to the words feels too sharp, and the best you can do to convey that you are not okay is to shake your head over and over and over. You reach out a hand next to you, and are surprised to find the sleeve of Aziraphale’s shirt. It’s not ideal, but it’s something, and he doesn’t pull away. You focus on the feel of the cotton, the button on the cuff, the pattern of the stitching in the seams. Slowly, you’re able to tune back in. You focus on your breathing, you look around and count five things that start with B – button, books, brown, bow tie, black. Crowley hands you a mug of cocoa, and you accept it, running your thumb along the porcelain wings and letting your hands feel the heat of the drink. You take a sip and take stock.

Multiverse travel (?), mouthing off to the literal Voice of God (lol), brush with death (or...eternal saltiness?), confronting your very limited mortality (at least it’s 5 lives and not 3), panic attack. WELP. This is going well so far. Just peachy. You take another sip, and notice that everyone’s waiting. Oh, right. You clear your throat.

“Thanks,” You say, “Sorry about that. Um...I’m gonna guess that you all have some questions.”

“That would be accurate, yes,” Aziraphale says next to you. Now that you are better, he stands, straightens his waistcoat, and moves to stand nearer the chair (and Crowley), and watches you with his hands folded in front of him. “The first of which is, who exactly are you?”

“Buckle in, folks,” You say to them, “You’re in for a ride.”

And so you begin your info dump. You notice Muriel taking dedicated notes. Good, they’ll probably need those later. You tell them that you’re not sure exactly where you’re from, but it’s not here. You explain the tv show, the radio show, you even mention the musical, and of course, when you get to the book, you ask Crowley to find it on the shelf behind him. It’s right where you remember Jim leaving it. Crowley opens it, and you begin on instinct:

“’It was a nice day. All the days had been nice. There had been rather seven of them thus far, and rain hadn’t been invented yet.’ Now skip a couple lines Crowley. ‘I said that one went down like a lead balloon.’ Sound familiar? There’s more.” You stop quoting there, because Crowley has started flipping through the pages quicker. Aziraphale holds out his hand, and after a while, Crowley hands it to him, then goes to a corner where you notice him taking a few deep breaths. You lean to the side to see that he’s not smoking, exactly, but definitely smoldering. You look at Aziraphale next, and see him turn white as a sheet, before handing the book to Muriel’s eager hands. The scrivener is the only one who looks delighted as they flip through. Aziraphale cleares this throat and composes himself.

“Uhm...now I believe you told Metatron that...The Almighty sent you here. Is...is that actually the case?”

“Honestly,” You say, “I have no idea. I just needed to get him out of your shop and away from you.”

“Away from...me?”

“Yeah...um...” You notice that Crowley has come back to the conversation now, although his sunglasses are slightly askew. You glance at Muriel, who has noticed the shift in your tone, has closed the book, and is now watching you. They put the novel on the nearest surface and reach for their notebook again.

And so, you explain the most solid fan theories that you know. That their joint miracle from the other day made them a threat for Apocalypse 2.0, and that Metatron was here to separate them, by offering Aziraphale the job of Supreme Archangel. This news is met with...surprise.

“Well that’s just stupid,” Crowley says, “He says no, in your tv show, clearly.”

“Yes, I rather can’t imagine I’d be so keen to return to Heaven after everything.”

“Weeeeelllll…...”

The room goes silent, except for Muriel’s writing. They stop after a moment, unaware of the silence.

“So then, you were trying to keep them from being separated because the power of an angel and a demon is most powerful together.”

“Yeah, or the power of love maybe. I’m not sure. Neil’s been kind of vague on that point.” You intentionally keep your gaze on Muriel once you realize what you implied. You will get there. Making those two talk about their feelings is on your list. Patience, patience.

“Oh, the author – Neil Gaiman?” Muriel points at the book with their pencil.

“Yeah, him. He answers questions sometimes.”

Muriel makes a note. You realize something.

“Wait a minute, Muriel,” You say, “Are you...on board with this?”

Muriel stops writing and considers your question for a minute.

“Well, see, the thing is,” They begin, “I’ve seen an awful lot that I never thought I would see? Just in the last week. Like a demon being nice –“

“HEY! Not nice!”

“And the Archangel Gabriel being in love with a demon and running away with them. And then you fell out of nowhere, and honestly what you said to the Metatron may have been a lie, and therefore, you know, bad, but it makes sense. If God didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here. So if I help you, I’m helping the Will of God, right?”

Crowley is the one to break the silence that follows.

“Honestly I would have thought it’d take longer for you to take after me. I have to say, I am impressed.”

“Take what after you?”

“Nevermind.”

“Well,” says Aziraphale, “Is there anything else that we need to know about?”

You think about the kiss. You think about everything that came after. You think about ‘and I would like to spend -’ But no, none of that is relevant now. Why do you feel like you’re forgetting something?

The bell at the door rings. You turn around to see Maggie and Nina. UGH. Right.

“I’ve got it, ladies, no worries! Come back later!” You call, desperately.

“Excuse me! No, we need to speak to these two now if you don’t mind!” Maggie says. Clearly she doesn’t care who you are or what you’re doing here.

You roll your eyes. Honestly, you don’t have beef with Maggie and Nina. You agree with them telling off Crowley and Aziraphale, it’s just that you can’t help but feel that the clock is ticking. But, well, there’s no helping it is there? With a sigh, you stand.

“Come on, Muriel,” You say, “Let’s go to the kitchen and get some more cocoa while these four talk.”

Muriel follows you into the kitchen. You don’t listen, you don’t need to. All you need to do is refill your drink while Maggie and Nina tell them off. While you’re at it, you try to convince Muriel to have one. Despite your best effort, you’re unsuccessful. Oh well, all in good time. When you hear the bell chime again, you go back into the shop to find Aziraphale and Crowley looking very pink in the cheeks. You can’t help but smirk.

“All right, chaps?” You say in your best-terrible-British-accent. Aziraphale nods. Well good. Because you all have work to do.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #good omens fandom #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow lasts forever #ineffable fandom #muriel #metatron #good omens fanfiction #ineffable fanfic #self insert #let's write #we're all in this together #poll fic #neil gaiman #good omens 3 #anthony j crowley #aziraphale and crowley #muriel is good at their job #muriel is smart and we love them #yes we have video game lives #does that mean telling off the metatron gave us exp? #where do we go from here #fanatic intervention

[etherealising]

One more request/ask this time for aiekoy 🍑/🐻/🧡 could you write something on if baby and carm would get together if Mikey were still alive? Or just if they would cross paths and still never say anything? If you’re up to it if not no biggie- again congrats on 1k!🥳

ohhh i love this so much, giggling because i get to play with aiekoy cannon and i am living for it. gonna be honest i don’t even remember writing most of this but it is chaotic and i actually kinda love it.

this was going in so many different directions before this became my final thoughts, thank you for requesting and please enjoy!! 🫶🏽

warning(s): addiction | violence |

mikey lives, does barby?

in this scenario the only ‘aiekoy’ chapters that would still be canon are ch. 1-3, interlude 0-1 and any pre-aiekoy lore that i may not have published yet 🫣.

and for the sake of consistency, we’re throwing all ‘the bear’ canon out the window!

but now is where we start to change things, so we’ll say baby moves back to Chicago beginning of 2019 Christmas showed you just how much you missed being around your surrogate family and so we kiss the west coast goodbye.

and with baby back in town the trio (baby/nat/richie) with all the time they spend around mikey begin to realize like he needs serious help. his deterioration is so clear to anyone who looks at him that if things don’t change soon we all know what’s gonna happen.

it's a bit of back and forth cause mikey is stubborn as hell and he definitely doesn’t take kindly to his addiction being called out. man is feeling cornered right now.

i don’t think mikey would just agree to rehab out of nowhere, growing up as the man of the house i think he definitely has some underlying issues with toxic masculinity.

something big would have to happen for him to see the error of his ways like baby finding him just strung out in his office at the beef pills scattered everywhere and of course, it hurts you to see him this way.

so you begin like trying to dispose of the pills, searching his office for anything more and lecturing him because you love him ya know. obviously reasoning with an addict hardly if ever works.

sadly to say i think it would get a bit physically violent like mikey kind of just lashes out just like grips baby by the arms, and pins you to the wall so hard it alerts the staff.

and it's an ugly scene as richie pulls him off of you. you’re just standing there glued to the wall scared shitless as richie holds himself back from beating the shit out of mikey.

nat gets wind of the whole situation i feel like tina would definitely call her because wtf is going on with mikey?

a few weeks later baby’s distant with mikey, richie is genuinely physically disgusted anytime he’s around his best friend, and nat bless her heart is just trying to keep the family together. she explains what happened to mikey between the two of you because his memory is spotty and the man just breaks down like heaving sobs as he asks nat to help him get better.

they decide a long-term stint in rehab might work best, considering how long he’s been using and the toll his psychological state has taken we’ll say a 6 month program that as it progresses the whole gang will be involved in family counseling sessions.

baby and richie obviously go with nat to drop mikey off setting aside their issues with him (you obviously haven’t forgiven his transgression yet but you want to be there for him) and the whole thing is so emotional i’m talking group hug full of sobs and snot this shit is heartbreaking. but mikey’s adamant that he wants the help.

baby definitely thinks someone should tell carmy but both richie and nat are iffy about it and they table that conversation for the time being.

fast forward a few months mikey is in rehab detoxing and participating in counseling sessions, they aren’t allowed to contact him yet but they do get weekly updates on his well-being.

baby is in new york for work profiling executive chef alex johannes (he didn’t have a name in the show so now he does) about his work ethic and michelin stars or some shit.

he invites you to the restaurant hours before the dinner service so you can observe him and the kitchen during prep and this man is laying the charm on thick!

he’s definitely scummy and you’re genuinely fed up with him so you tell him you need to walk around to get a feel for the kitchen but you just want to be rid of him.

you’re doing your cute journalist thing taking notes, trying to talk to chefs about what the kitchen environment is like working under alex but these people are giving you nothing!

there’s a commotion at one of the prep stations and you’re obviously curious the whole kitchen is trying to pretend they aren’t watching this shit go down.

and you’re just listening to this poor chef get verbally abused as they’re working on their prep, jotting all this down in your little notepad.

but the sight of the chef slamming a cutting board against the counter has you flinching and you just can’t let that happen irritation radiating through you at this bully you’ve been assigned to profile.

you’ve seen enough stepping up to defend the poor chef with a few choice words to the older man ultimately getting in a verbal argument with him and being sent out of his kitchen, but not before he makes the poor chef join you, and whatever bravado you had to rip that asshole a new one is gone as carmen fucking berzatto begins walking in your direction shoving past you to get to the staff lounge.

what are the fucking odds that you end up at the same exact restaurant carmy works at after being ghosted by him again that one christmas. (I’d say they’re great since I’m writing this)

you’re standing there in shock for a minute before turning on your heel to find the man.

he’s pacing back and forth hand pressing into the space where his heart lay. as soon as he sees you he’s hurling questions your way; “what the fuck are you doing here?” “why the fuck couldn’t you just mind your business?” “he didn’t need your fucking help.” blah blah blah.

your anger from earlier is back and you’re just like alright bet “guess it’s still fuck me right carm?” grabbing your bag and getting the fuck outta dodge.

you don’t make it far before carmy finds you, the man doesn’t apologize but he asks you to stop by when he gets off.

you’re a loser for carm so you do. he’s takes you back to his place, it’s awkward as fuck but you finally give in and tell him about what’s going on in Chicago, mikey’s addiction, the “fight” you had with mikey at the beef, him being in rehab.

and carmy is surprised as fuck, to say the least, he tells you that he’s miserable in new york. feels like the restaurant might kill him before his anxiety ever could.

neither of you are sure how any of it happens but the next thing you know you’re naked under him giving into pent-up desires, promises whispered into each other’s skin.

you can’t stay in new york forever but the both of you decide it is for the best not to start anything with all the distance between you.

you try talking carmy into moving back to Chicago and homeboy actually gives it some thought.

after that the two of you are in constant contact like not a day goes by without a phone call or text.

you’re back in chicago mikey’s been doing good in rehab, the family counseling sessions are going well. next thing you know his 6 months are up and he’s out.

you talk carmy into visiting for a bit, he and mikey def have things to work out.

surprise surprise, COVID hits carmy gets stuck in Chicago (man is not complaining though if that means he gets to see you)

you get a roommate who doubles as a lover and everything goes from there!!!

a/n: reading this is so chaotic it actually made me giggle. on a serious note in no way am i saying all addicts are violent or have violent tendencies but from my experiences that has been the case. also i think canonically (7 fishes ep) that mikey did have violent tendencies whether it be the drugs or not.

#etherealising’s 1k celebration #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy the bear x reader #carmy berzatto x you #the bear fic #the bear x reader #the bear x you #fem!reader #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

[theflyindutchwoman]

Hey! How are you holding up? Just finished the episode and I haven't really recovered. I am sad, I am frustrated, I don't really know what's happening? I thought they were mature and Tim is so dumb right now, I can't even.

And Lucy? I can't even start to imagine what she's going through. She has been so badass for the 5 seasons and this season she just gets fail after fail and loss after loss and doesn't even get a good job storyline.

So sorry I didn't reply sooner but I first wanted to take a little step back in order to fully digest the episode. As much as the waiting is killing me, I actually appreciate the hiatus for that. I imagine your feelings may have changed a bit as well since then… or that was the impression I got from our different conversations here and there. How are you feeling now? A bit better or still frustrated?

I'm going to start with Lucy. I was rewatching the beginning of season 5 and this is hitting even harder now. Not because of the pining era. But because the narrative was already showing her isolation back then. I couldn't quite put my finger on why her storyline in season 6 felt so familiar but now I get it. This is merely the continuation.

As we all noticed, the scene of Tim breaking up with her had a very similar vibe to the one at the end of 5.02. But think back of when she went to Nyla for advice about going to UC school, when she was trying to confide to Aaron who was too caught up in his own drama to hear her… or when she spent hours locked in a freezer because no one realised she was missing - besides Tim, that is. And then, there was the whole Rosalind thing where Lucy had to push through her own trauma to help Chris deal with his and help Bailey stay calm. But no one ever took the time to ask her how she was doing with all of this (on screen). They all had good reasons, by the way, this isn't me trying to paint them as the bad guys. But this still has an eerie similarity to what is happening right now. Only there has been no payoff for any of this. Yet. It didn't seem to go anywhere. Until now. Same with her career : she nailed UC Academy, something that was supposed to help her standout come promotion time… She helped the FBI on a raid, she was asked to be the acting Watch Commander, she was told that the whole station had her back… And yet, none of this paid off either. Yet. So this is a great opportunity to finally connect all the dots that have been dropped for the past two seasons and give Lucy the amazing arc she deserves. I sincerely hope this will be the case.

As for Tim… Look, the reason why I didn't want a breakup (besides the fact that I dislike this trope so much), is that I was afraid that it would cheapen the whole "worth the effort / worth the risk" speech. You can't say that and leave at the first difficulty without downplaying the whole story. So I'm glad that the writers were able to find a way to circumvent that issue by showing Tim completely unravelling. Because this isn't about him thinking Lucy is not worth the effort or the risk… This is about him thinking HE is not worthy of her. And that changes everything. For me, at least. I still get the frustration. I still wish this storyline would have been done with them sticking together and trying to work through it. But I can understand his perspective, why he thought this would be better for her. And I can see how that could make them stronger in the end. So, just like with Lucy, I hope Tim's arc will be treated properly and carefully. I need to see the payoff, the progress… I need to see them heal. Separately and then, together. It's always hard to see where a story is going when it is still unfolding… But for now, I choose to remain optimistic and hopeful. Does that help you even a tiny bit?

#thanks for the ask :) and again I apologise for not answering sooner! #ask & ye shall receive #the rookie #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford

[cumikering]

Neighbour Ghost x reader 6

2.7k | angst No matter how loyal, guard dogs still have their teeth (part 1)

Simon’s steps to your door were heavy, as his heart had been since that call.

Despite his blazing wrath, he was unprepared for the waves of guilt that washed over, the shame that wrestled to drown him. He was unable to protect you from his past – he brought it upon you, even after how much too sweet you’d been, how softly you’d touched him. How could he ever look you in the eye again?

The stray never deserved any of that.

When you gave him a squeeze at the door, he didn’t return it. Still, you tugged him in with the same lovely smile, even when it wasn’t as wide.

“Fancy a cuppa?”

“No.”

Your pretty hand shouldn’t be in his filthy one. Do you even know what I do with these hands?

You sat at the dining table and Simon remained on his feet to your side, eyes fixed on the cup of pu erh before you. His fists clenched and released. You didn’t like pu erh.

At the end of the day, he was still a reaper in dress uniform - one with an unrelenting demon that lurked in the far corner. He could have fucked him up that evening at the bakery. Feel his nose crumble against his knuckles, maybe even the snap of his scrawny neck in his hands.

But no, this happened because he didn't. Like his mum said, you were good for him, of course you were. But was he for you? He was nothing but trouble.

You smiled up at him. Always so sincere, so delicate, making his stomach twist more.

“My dad’s visiting this weekend. I was wondering if you wanted to meet him? And… Um, what I should introduce you-“

Not addicted, he'd tell himself too many times, as if it didn’t sound like a bloody lie to his own ears. You were the beginning of an incurable addiction, a cliff with the bewitching view he was a step away from falling off of.

His gaze left you. “I’m going back home with my mum tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you said, your disappointment evident. “Okay, maybe next time then.”

His heart pounded in his ears as he forced the words out, nails digging into his palms. “We should stop this.”

“What… What are you saying, Simon?”

“This. Meeting you, staying over. I’ll have less time when I become captain. This isn’t going to end well,” he reasoned, but it sounded more like he was convincing himself this was the right thing.

He knew it was, even when it didn’t feel like it, like a lot of things in life. He knew one day he’d be glad he did this. One day, even when right then it felt like the worst thing he could be doing. Would someone, something, rip this decision away from his hands?

“You don't get to say that yet, not right now. I know you're going through a lot.” You reached for his hand. “But we can wait until things settle and we’ll talk-“

He pulled away from your touch. “I've made up my mind. I never meant for things to get this far.”

In the still room, his stare remained on the cup you hadn’t touched since his arrival.

“You knew this all along and you still let it happen,” you said as realisation dawned.

He looked up to meet your hardened gaze. He’d seen you sad, annoyed, angry, but this was the first time your eyes was devoid of warmth. Being the receiving end of that stare was a stab to his chest.

“I should believe people when they show me who they are.” You chuckled humourlessly. “Get out, Simon.”

The world slowed. It was hard to draw his breath as he remained unmoving, like he was chained to the floor of where his sanctuary once was. Despite the arms that ached to wrap around you and never let go, he forced himself to walk away as his blood ran cold.

The door slammed behind him. He didn’t expect a positive response, of course, but it was definitely not the shatter of his own heart.

Still, it didn’t hurt as much as it would have had he waited until you inevitably left him for one reason or another. At least he’d never have to worry about being like his dad, about hurting you, betraying you, if you weren’t there to begin with. Like he’d always known, you deserved better, someone as lovely as you – unlike this stray who would never be enough.

It’s the right thing.

He could give his mum his undivided attention now. She would never leave nor kick him out the door. If he was not wanted, he had to be endlessly needed, used dry until he was nothing but a ghost.

“Who the fuck broke my bloody door!”

Simon and his mum had been waiting for his dad’s return to the house that had turned into a complete mess. Meanwhile, she’d packed as much of her belongings as she could, her luggage in the living room.

“Sign the bloody papers before I make sure you never can anymore,” Simon barked, standing tall next to his sitting mum.

His dad rounded the corner and Simon’s jaw ticked thinking of what he did to you. He let out a weak sigh at the sight of his wife and son at the dining table, a sight he hadn’t seen in over a decade. His eyes softened.

“I don’t want anything from you, James. Please sign them and we’ll be out of here.”

He pulled out the chair across the table and propped his elbows up, face in his hands as he took a deep breath.

“I need to apologise, Melanie,” he began. “I’ve made your life hell, and I know there’s nothing I can do to change that now. I was my fault.”

“She didn’t ask,” Simon said through gritted teeth. He shoved the papers closer when he ached to break the filthy table with his dad’s skull.

“I’m sorry about your last night here. It was unforgiveable, what I did.”

Simon slammed his fist onto the table. He had watched the grand performance too many times. “You’re not fooling anybody with your tricks. Sign the bloody papers. I swear this is the last time I’m asking.”

His mum patted his hand, and he reluctantly took the seat next to her.

“I want you to have the house, Mel. You’ve always kept it too beautiful for a man like me. It’s the least I can give you after everything.” He let out a steady breath, flipping open the document. “I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me for how much I’ve hurt you,” he added quietly.

Was that remorse that settled in his hollow eyes?

His mum bit her lip as a tear slipped. When Simon wrapped an arm around her, she sobbed into his chest.

No words were exchanged as his dad went through the papers, and it remained so until Simon wheeled his mum’s luggage out the door behind her.

“Goodbye, James.” She didn’t spare him another look.

“Simon?” he called in a small voice. “I’m sorry I’m not the father you deserve.”

The lieutenant threw the door shut.

Simon spent the next few days with his mum, Tommy, his wife and son. Since his last visit, Tommy’s got a new job and seemed to be spoiling his son rotten with plenty of new toys, including the shiny red bike outside. Unfortunately, even after over a year, he and Beth still hadn’t had much luck trying for a second child.

Joseph was a brilliant kid with a toothy smile, just like Tommy was, and it always surprised Simon how big his nephew got between each visit. It was a shame he only got to meet his family twice or thrice each year.

“Joe, you’ve been sitting on your uncle’s shoulders all day,” Beth said with an amused smile. “Give him a break.”

“It’s the best seat ever!” His little arms wrapped tighter around Simon’s head, eyes glued onto the cartoon on the telly.

“You need to do your homework.”

“I’ll do it here.” He poked the top of Simon’s head.

He laughed. “I don’t mind.”

She shook her head. “Come on now. Dinner will be ready in an hour. You don’t want to be late.”

“Okay…” he huffed before dragging his feet to his room.

While he flicked through the channels,  Beth went back to the kitchen where his mum was. He wasn’t one to watch the telly apart from football, but his thumb hovered over the button when the Great British Bake Off came on.

He remembered the episode. He’d watched it with you, the only person he ever watched the show with. It was yours, like a secret only the both of you knew.

It’s the right thing.

Faintly, his mum chuckled at something her daughter-in-law said, and his mind couldn’t help but drift to all the times it was you and her in his flat instead. Sharing stories, laughing, while he smiled at the sight from afar.

It’s the right thing, Riley, I promise.

He turned the telly off and went for a walk instead.

At dinner, the table admired little Joe’s drawings he’d done at school – he always saved them for when his daddy came home. With his precious family beaming, it seemed like the life Simon should have had, the one he always imagined was supposed to be like. But even without the devil trailing behind like an ellipsis, this, somehow, didn’t feel right either.

Despite his smile, his chest was heavy with the rotting carcass of the heart he didn't know he still had until weeks ago.

It’s the right thing, it’s the right thing, it’s the right thing.

Later that night, Simon’s head tilted when he entered the guestroom his mum occupied.

“Have you not packed yet? We’re leaving tomorrow. I’ve still got training on Monday.”

On the bed, she lowered her book and frowned. “I’m not leaving. Manchester is my home, Si.”

“Home is where you’re safe, mum, and you’re not here.”

She sighed, the sympathetic kind, before putting her book away. “My well-being and happiness aren’t your responsibility.”

He scoffed. “‘course they are.”

“I can’t thank you enough for thinking about me, but what’s happened, happened. I’m trying to start over, and that includes not being a baggage to you.”

He blinked. “Mum, what are you on about?” he asked carefully as he sat next to her.

“You need to live your life. You push good things away, Si.”

What… “I don’t. You’re all I’ve got.”

“Always so stubborn.” She shook her head. “Don’t make the same mistake I did, Si. My first love… Your granddad didn’t want us together, and I ended up with your dad. I grew to love him, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I chose easy over real. Sometimes I wonder if I’d been less afraid, what life would be like now.

“I'm by no means regretful, because I got to have my two perfect sons, but you had to pay for my mistakes too, and for that I’m yet to forgive myself. I’m supposed to give you a good life, but I didn't. The least I can do now is not hold you back.

Her hands clasped over his. “So live for me, Si. Don't worry about me. Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will always be your mum. I can’t stop loving you even if I tried. I just need to see you happy, that’s all I need from you.”

His gaze dropped to the ground. “I’m not good enough for her,” he muttered.

“That’s not for you to decide.”

“Isn't it too late?”

“Never.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“You make it sound harder than it is.” She cupped his cheek. “It won’t be painless, but if she’s the one, it will be worth it.”

Against his mum’s shoulder, he wished his tears would stop flowing, but with the way she rubbed his back, Simon was once more just a little blond boy with the scraped knee.

From the front porch in the chill night, it was shameless how he called you at that hour, when he didn’t even say goodbye when he left. It was shameless how even after you rejected his calls, he still called for the 5th time, or 10th – he’d lost count. But at last, the line connected.

“Luv,” he said breathlessly, palm pressing against his eyes that had barely dried.

“Please stop calling me.”

“No, wait. Please, listen. Don’t-”

“You’ve made up your mind. Begging only reduces me to nothing, so I didn’t try to change it. I owe you nothing, Simon.”

And the line clicked off.

Still sat on the steps, he blinked at the phone in his hand, deciding if he was going to worsen the situation if he called again. It was shameless that he did anyway, but it went straight to voicemail.

Simon might not have had plenty of dating experience, it was shameless really, but he knew he still had a chance if you were mad.

You’d listen when he showed up at your door, still hauling his backpack.

“Luv, please. Please, listen.”

He thought his heart was about to explode when your footsteps approached. The door opened halfway.

“Hi,” you said, not meeting his eyes.

His breath hitched, and he was near to tears. Despite his resolve, he couldn’t get the words out.

“I've thought about it. You're right. I thought I knew what I was getting into, but it was always so hard to see you leave, and I realised it’s only going to get harder.”

No, no, no...

“Thank you for being honest and saving us from further heartache. I know I didn’t have to block you, but I hope you understand my decision to not be in contact anymore.”

“Luv, no. I wanted- I want to try. I don’t care how hard it gets.“

“I care. I want stability, maybe even a family, and I see now we’re not heading in the same direction.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes and a pained smile. “I wish you all the wonderful things, Simon. Truly, I'm so thankful I got to know you.”

He barely made out the words tumbling out of your lips, wishing he was hallucinating.

“Goodnight, Simon,” you whispered as you closed the door.

Even then, you didn’t give him a foul look for his audacity to show his face after biting the hand that fed him. It was the last time you were going to see him, why did you still have to treat him with respect?

He wished you’d have said something mean, even sick. You should have called him names, tell him he was the most ungrateful man there was, that he was just like his dad, so he had something to hate, so the fire could flare up high once more and he’d be safe behind it like he always was.

But it was you. You could stab him in the chest, and he wasn’t sure it would have been enough to hate you. To overwrite how wonderful you’d been to the wounded stray.

His gaze cast down, unmoving at your door. He did this to himself. It was his fault for dropping his cold stare, for smiling, for looking when you weren’t, cracking his jokes, touching your hand and kissing you, for lying down and baring his belly. It wasn’t your fault you didn’t want him anymore after what he’d done.

If he closed his eyes, he could still see the vivid curve of your lips, your soft laugh, the caress of your fingers. The ache for you morphed into an itch that made him want to claw at his skin, to replace the sweetness with bright, searing pain.

Would you please do the humane thing and shoot him so he didn’t have to drown in the storm that brewed in him?

It was for the best, he told himself. It was what he wanted after all, to keep his problems away from you, to keep you happy, even when he wasn’t in the picture. Leaving you was his repayment for being a thankless beast.

“Just because I go, doesn’t mean my heart follows,” he whispered.

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