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light-yaers · 11 months

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Take Care: Chapter Four

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

A/N: Hello and welcome to HELL. This is your angst warning. Angst is coming very soon. I hope this chapter makes you feel uneasy. Hahahah

Word count: 9k

Chapter Four

During the next week, you started planning. This article was all you could think about, alongside the craziness that was happening at the club. Within his first few days at Richmond, Dani Rojas was injured. It should have been simple, should have been something easily fixed– if the rumours hadn’t started. For some reason, the prospect of a ghost, of a curse, cropped up. Dani said he could feel a presence in the treatment room… something sinister.

While he recovered, the team was on edge. You stayed in your office a lot that week, choosing to stay out of the ghost stories. But, those stories didn’t stop the guys coming to you, either. One afternoon, Isaac and Colin knocked on the door of your office. You sat up at your desk, shooting them a smile.

“Hey, guys. You okay?” you asked.

Both of them looked worried beyond belief. “We just wanted your guidance on something,” Colin said.

“Yeah, bruv. We need to borrow your smarts,” Isaac added.

“My smarts?” you let out, utterly confused.

“What’s the first thing you’d sacrifice if you were on a football team?” Colin burst, and your face dropped. You had no fucking clue what they were talking about, nor did you want any part of it.

“Sorry… what?” you asked.

Isaac leaned on your desk “Like your football boots, or your shirt, or–”

“The keys to your Lambo…” Colin trailed off, zoning out as he looked at the wall behind you. It was oddly unsettling seeing the guys like this. Overly scared, zoning out, getting lost in thought. You didn’t think it was possible for any of them to be like this. Colin snapped his gaze on you quickly, and you flinched. “I’ve got it. Thank you!” he said, before he bound out of your office as fast as he’d arrived.

Isaac stayed where he was, still thinking about his own… sacrifice?

“Isaac, what is this about?” you asked smally.

He didn’t say anything, but instead focused on the pen you held in your hand. You played tennis as you flashed your gaze back and forth between the pen and him, suddenly feeling self conscious of your fucking fingers. Gently, you reached out your other hand to him, and gave him a soft prod on his shoulder.

“Isaac–?”

“I’ve got it,” he cut over you, and you let out a sigh of relief.

“I– okay. Great. Was that… all you needed?” you asked timidly.

Isaac nodded, standing up straight. “We owe you,” he said, and you would have been flattered if you knew what the fuck they were talking about. You hadn’t done anything, other than be deeply concerned about them for the duration of their visit. “See you about, yeah?” Isaac said, making his way to your door before you could even respond fully.

“I– yeah,” you stuttered, but he was already storming down the corridor to the locker room. You leaned back in your chair and let out a huge breath. Everyday at Richmond brought something new, something strange. You were certain these guys would give you a heart attack one day, if they kept up all this shit.

You raked your fingers through your hair softly, trying to reset after the madness of the past few days. It wasn’t that things were too much, or too stacked on your plate, it was mostly from the shock of what came next that got to you. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if you arrived at the club tomorrow to see that everyone had switched places, or that the walls had been painted pink, or that the guys had decided to flood the pitch, purely because they ‘wanted to see what the Dogtrack would be like as a swimming pool’.

Innately, they were almost like toddlers. You’d never been good with kids, never liked children, especially when they screamed and cried and had sticky fingers, but you were confident you’d make an excellent nanny after your year at Richmond. You shut your eyes gently, and breathed through the remainder of your disturbed peace. In through your nose, out through your mouth, and over again.

A knock sounded from the door, and you jumped so hard that you almost fell back in your chair. “Jesus fuck–!” You sat up straight and opened your eyes immediately. Roy strolled into your office, knuckles still raised where he’d knocked on your door. “Oh, God, it’s just you.” You clutched your heart, trying to slow your sudden accelerated breathing.

“Am I really that scary?” he asked.

You scoffed. “No, of course not,” you said, but as his question fully sunk in, you realised that Roy Kent was scary, sometimes. “Actually, yeah. You are a little bit.”

Roy growled in agreement. “I appreciate the honesty.”

“Anyway,” you breathed out. “What’s up?” You leaned forward and smacked your hands together, peering up at where he stood opposite you.

“Just wondering when we were going to get this interview done. The one for your article,” he said. You didn’t notice the subtle way his fists balled together until his knuckles went white.

“Oh, right,” you said. “Well, how about tonight?”

“I can’t tonight. I’ve gotta be here for a fucking cleansing,” Roy explained.

“A cleansing? Is this about the treatment room ghosts?” you asked. Roy nodded, obviously annoyed as fuck about the entire ordeal. “What the fuck is a cleansing, anyway?”

“I don’t want to fucking talk about it,” Roy said, you could understand why.

You raised your hands in understanding. “My lips are sealed, sorry. What about tomorrow, then? I just thought we’d go to the pub, or something. It’s not a formal interview, Roy.”

“I can do tomorrow, just not at the fucking pub,” he said.

“Why not?”

“Do I really have to fucking spell out why going to a Richmond pub, as a Richmond player, is a bad fucking idea?” he said.

You winced. “You’re right, I didn’t think of that. Is there somewhere that would work better?”

Roy clenched his jaw. You saw the way the muscles tensed, matching the intense posture he constantly upheld. You were certain that Roy would be able to walk through a concrete wall if he tried. The constant puff-out of his chest, the strength in his stance, the bluntness of his stares. For someone so hard on the outside, both in how he looked and acted, you felt almost special when you thought about all the good that he’d done for you.

Roy Kent was soft around the edges, but he didn’t show it often.

“We could go to my gaff?” he offered, and your heart jolted in your chest.

At work, you often had one on one conversations with Roy, but the prospect of being alone outside of work was something that made your walls erect again. The same ones that had after the charity ball, the same ones that stopped you from having a drink with him last time.

In your mind, you told yourself to get the fuck over it. You were only human, and God forbid, you had a little crush. No one would blame you, especially with it being Roy. Crushes didn’t hurt anyone, or anything. Crushes existed to you as a bit of fun. That was all. Nothing would come of this.

“That works, too,” you agreed, finally. “Like I said, I don’t want it to be a formal thing.”

“Great, ‘cause I’ve got a fridge full of beer that needs to be fucking drank.”

You huffed, amused. “It’ll be hard, but I’m willing to help make a dent in that,” you said, dropping your expression in a false display of hardship.

Roy hummed lowly. “Your sacrifice won’t go unnoticed.”

You bowed your head at him jokingly. “Thank you, Sir.”

A small smile curled onto Roy’s face, one that you kept a secret tally of in your head. Whenever you got him to laugh, to smile, to do anything that deviated from his typical stoicism, you made a note of it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said, the hint of that smile still on his face.

You smiled back, fiddling with your pen nervously. “See you tomorrow, Roy.”

He nodded, then he was gone. With his leave, your heart did the exact same thing– it launched itself into your throat, its incessant dump-dump getting more erratic by the second. It took you a little over two months, but you were finally going to see the inside of Roy Kent’s big, fuck off house. And, as much as you felt silly and childish, you actually couldn’t fucking wait.

At the end of the following day, Roy stuck his head around your door again. You were half expecting it, though, as you assumed Roy would put two and two together about it being efficient to drive you both to his that evening.

“Ready to go?” he asked, and you stood up from your chair.

“Yeah,” you nodded, slinging your bag over your shoulder and switching off the lights when you both left.

The drive felt familiar. It was equal levels of comfortable silence and awkward glances— mostly on Roy’s part. Occasionally, he sent you a side-eyed glance from the driver’s seat, tapping his fingers on the wheel to break apart the tension that rattled behind the windshield.

Even Roy had no idea why things felt more intimate all of a sudden, so you definitely weren’t suffering alone. You were determined to stay cool; it was just a small crush after all. Nothing earth shattering, nothing life changing. In fact, putting it that way had actually eased you slightly. You weren’t focusing on it as being something deep, it was just something fun— and something that would never come to fruition, anyway.

Roy was a professional footballer, and he boiled your blood far too often. You were nothing more than an annoying, MA student who had the means to push his buttons. Sure, you gelled well, and had great conversations sometimes, and were able to make the other laugh, but that didn’t mean anything. Not really. Right?

You frowned a little, looking out the window as Roy turned down your street. You thought about his jacket, still on the peg by your front door.

“Wait,” you said abruptly. “Would you mind dropping me home first? There’s something I need to pick up.”

Roy perked a brow at you slyly, but nodded in agreement. “Sure.”

He pulled up his Jeep to the curb and you jumped out. You held the door open for a moment. “I’ll walk to yours. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Roy nodded, and you slammed the car door shut. He drove off before you entered your building, shooting you a subtle glance before he put his foot on the accelerator. When you got inside, you fumbled with your belongings. You’d written down questions on your laptop and knew what you wanted to ask him, but you knew that actually asking them in person would be the hard part.

You took a few moments to freshen up, running a brush through your tangled hair and checking your face after a long day at the Dogtrack, before you repacked your bag and headed for the door. On the peg just before it was Roy’s jacket. You picked it up and draped it over your arm, before you finally set off for Roy’s house around the corner.

Roy knew he had ten minutes, max, before you arrived. Due to the cleansing last night, he hadn’t had time to tidy at all. He didn’t live like an animal by any means, but the piles of fresh laundry on the dining table, the resistance bands on his sofa and the three empty beer bottles from earlier in the week on the counter, were not up to his standard for you. Quickly, he waltzed around his house and cleared up his messes. He didn’t know what was going to come from tonight, or what questions you’d ask him, but he had to admit— he was glad that another time was finally happening.

Having you around constantly at work after the charity ball had him going through the motions. He often flashed back to when he’d abruptly asked you in for a drink, and cringed at your response far too many times. He was a grown man, but things like that still made him feel like a teenager, getting rejected at school. It was stupid, and he knew it, but that didn’t stop his mind from reeling about it all still.

But, at the end of the day, both of you knew one thing— neither of you had fucking expected to like the other, or get along at all, in fact. That was enough to bring out the question— what if? Both of you had thought about it enough to want to see where it could go.

You knocked on Roy’s front door abruptly, and he sauntered through his hallway towards you. Upon entering his house, you tried to keep your giddiness to a minimum. He already knew what you thought of his place, from your drunken honesty and shocked reaction after the charity ball.

Now that you were up close, you saw more of what made Roy… well, Roy. There were clippings from newspapers, dating back as far as 2002, in a huge photo album on the bottom shelf of his dining room bookshelf. Awards and trophies adorned the other levels, alongside homemade cards from someone called Phoebe.

Roy let you silently take it all in. You clutched your bag on your shoulder with white knuckles, his jacket flush to your side, overwhelmed by all that you were seeing. He cleared his throat from the kitchen, peering over at you. “Drink?”

“Oh,” you let out, startled. “Yes, please.” You turned back to the shelf, amazed. “Roy, this is— this is all—”

“It’s all crap,” Roy cut over you, opening the fridge. You turned around to see it full of green beer bottles. He hadn’t been wrong when he said fridge full of beers. He placed two on the kitchen counter and popped the tops off both.

“It’s not crap. They’re lovely memories,” you protested. “I mean, you displayed them here for a reason, didn’t you?”

Roy strolled over to where you stood and casually handed you a beer. You took it gratefully, taking a gulp, as the two of you scanned his full-to-bursting shelves together.

You pointed to the abundance of homemade cards. “Who’s Phoebe?”

“My niece,” Roy said.

“I didn’t know you had siblings,” you said.

Roy hummed. “Got a little sister.”

Somewhere within you, it all made sense. You were amongst the population that knew it was a green flag when a man had sisters, it was just plain true. Roy was no exception to that rule, and his behaviour slotted into place as a man who understood what it took to be an older brother to a sister.

“How old is Phoebe?”

Roy sent you a softened look. “She’s six.”

You hated to admit it, but your heart melted ever so slightly. You smiled at him genuinely. “How sweet.”

“She is sweet,” Roy said, with a distinct genteness to his tone that you’d never heard before. “But, she’s also fucking insane. In the best way.”

“I bet she loves you,” you said, as the two of you took another gulp of beer together.

Roy let out a refreshing ahhh afterwards, to which he followed with “Yeah, she does. I don’t get it.”

“I do,” you let out abruptly. When Roy caught your eye, you panicked. You sent him a hastily sweet smile, before you turned to the rest of the open-plan room.

“So… shall we start?” Roy asked, trying to diffuse the tension.

“We already have,” you said. You prodded a finger to your temple. “It’s being recorded up here.”

Roy growled. “What happens when you run out of room?”

“That’s what the laptop is for,” you said, shrugging your bag off your arm and placing it on the dining table. You slotted his jacket beneath it, leaving it there like an afterthought.

Roy pulled out the chair opposite you and sat down, sipping on his beer as you got yourself sorted. You opened up your laptop and sorted through your notes, until you found the questions you’d written previously.

You cleared your throat, placing your palms down on the table. “Ready?”

“I thought we’d already fucking started,” Roy said, and you huffed to yourself.

“Tell me your superhero origin story, go on,” you said, before you shifted and placed your chin in your hand. You leaned casually on the tabletop, peering at Roy with your full attention.

Roy cleared his throat awkwardly, tapping his short-cut nails against his beer bottle. “I was scouted for Sunderland when I was nine years old…” he began.

He didn’t stop until all daylight disappeared from outside. An hour into his story, you had to start typing on your laptop. It didn’t detract from the mood at all, not when you and Roy bounced off each other so effortlessly. He’d say something specific about football, something that you had no fucking clue about, and you’d say something like Oh, yeah. I know exactly what that is. It made the air shift comfortably, and gave Roy a moment to catch his breath and smile before he continued on.

It didn’t feel like an interview, and that’s exactly what you wanted. You weren’t a journalist, weren’t looking to join this writing sector, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to write about Roy Kent. You’d meant what you’d said to Keeley before, about his illustrious career, about how heart-warming his full story really was. Every word he said you ate up, joining in with the laughter, staying silent during the sensitive topics, and listening intently all the way through.

When he was done, he let out a deep sigh. You both sat back in your chairs, finishing your beers. You’d lost count of how many times you’d gone to the fridge for more– maybe three or four times– but the buzz was pleasant for both of you. A golden glow was cast over Roy’s house, coming from a few lamps placed throughout the living and dining room. It felt warm. It felt safe. That’s exactly what you’d wanted him to feel when he opened up to you fully.

This time, Roy travelled to the kitchen for refills, but he didn’t go to the fridge. He opened one of his kitchen cabinets, and grabbed two glasses that clinked together melodiously. From a cart in the dining room, he picked up a half full bottle of single malt whiskey. He placed the glasses on the table between you, popped the cork from the whiskey, and poured a little in each glass. When he sat again, he picked up the glass nearest him. You followed suit, picking up your own.

You clinked your glasses together, both taking a small sip afterwards, before an even more comfortable silence settled over the room around you. You peered at him then, as he swallowed back his whiskey. The liquid slinked down your own throat hotly, warming you from the inside, out.

“Why?” you asked quietly, and Roy caught your eye gently.

“Why what?”

“Why football?” you said, shrugging. “You could have done anything, but you did this. Why?”

Roy exhaled through his nose, before he leaned forward on his elbows. The gap between you closed gently, until both of you were leaning on the smooth wood of his dining table, close enough that you could reach out and touch his face if you wanted to.

“Tell me in a way that my fickle, anti-football brain will understand,” you added, and Roy huffed softly.

“From your perspective, you think football is just a game,” Roy started softly. You’d never heard his voice this clear, this gentle. “But, it’s not for me. It’s my whole life. It’s all I’ve ever done.” He tapped his glass with his fingertips, letting out a soft clink across the table at you. “Do you know why I didn’t fill out your worksheet, the one from when you first started at the club?”

You shook your head gently, not taking your eyes off the thoughtful look that graced Roy’s face. You felt then just how vulnerable he was being– this wasn’t what Roy Kent did. He was stoic, he was blunt, but that didn’t stop him from having his own secrets, his own insecurities.

Roy sucked in a breath. “The last question on it– What do you want from your career in the future? I couldn’t answer it, because the future for me is different to the other lads. I’m coming to the inevitable end of my career, slowing down, and they’re just getting started.” You sucked in a breath, going to protest, but Roy shook his head before you could. “Don’t tell me I’m talking rubbish. This is how it fucking goes, you know? I’m not the same player I used to be, and… it’s all going to end soon. One day I’ll wake up, and without knowing, it’ll be the last day I ever play football.”

You let his words settle over you. You didn’t know what he was feeling at all, would never understand the extent of his pain or troubles, but that didn’t stop you from having a different perspective. As an objective third party, you could see what he couldn’t. Maybe that was good, just this once.

“I can’t begin to imagine what that’ll feel like, Roy,” you said softly. “But just because you won’t be on the pitch, doesn’t mean there won’t be something new waiting for you.” Roy raised his brows at you softly, in waiting. He was listening, he was all ears. “I know fuck all about football, but– I know about you. You won’t just fall off the edge of the world.”

“How do you know that?” he asked, swallowing back some of his anxiety.

“I know because of all the fucking trophies on that shelf,” you said, gesturing to the shelf behind him. “I know because, when you run onto the pitch, all those fans scream that chant, just for you.” You let out an abrupt laugh, trying to convey just how amazed you were. “For fucks sake, Roy, you played in the World Cup in 2014, for fucking England. You were the same age as me then, you know.”

“A year older,” he corrected you. “I was twenty-nine.”

“Yeah, and I’m twenty-eight and only just doing my masters, working at a football club when I don’t know anything about football, with the athletic ability of a fucking teaspoon.”

Roy smiled at the table immediately. It was the kind of smile that took up his whole face, one that made his eyes squint and glint.

“What I mean is,” you continued, leaning a bit closer to him. Roy peered up at you again, his eyes glassy. “You’re a legend, Roy. And, even though I’ve been part of this world for no time at all, I know that very well. It was the first thing I learned, and will probably be the only thing that I’ll remember about the game after my year is up.”

“Not true,” Roy said abruptly, taking another sip of his whiskey. “The first thing you learned was that I’m not the fucking caretaker.” He smiled, and after your heart stopped racing as fast, you smiled back.

The atmosphere transitioned back to something more playful, but the underlying warmth of your prior conversation didn’t go away at all. It settled into every word that you and Roy shared, every small huff of air that you blew out from amusement, every sigh you let out to catch your breath. When your whiskeys were done, you caught a glance of the time on your laptop– it was almost midnight. You’d spent hours in each other's company, just talking, and it had gone by in mere minutes.

“So,” Roy let out, and his tone got under your skin immediately. Maybe it was the booze, or the darkness outside, but when he caught your eye this time you felt like a deer in headlights. “Did you have any more questions?”

You skimmed your laptop, but you knew you’d already asked everything you’d wanted to. It was just for show, just so that he’d think you had more to give. You didn’t want it to end just yet, not when the tension between you was inescapable. It was just a crush. It was just a crush.

“One more,” you lied. You smiled at him playfully, before you gently started circling your finger on the rim of your glass. “You’re a professional footballer,” you stated, amused.

“No fucking shit,” he replied.

You huffed gently. “This is off the record, and just because I’m curious, and you do not have to answer it if you don’t–”

“You want to know how many famous people I’ve slept with,” he interrupted you. You froze, and your cheeks immediately warmed. He’d worked you the fuck out.

“Just– an estimate.” Your voice was high pitched when it left your mouth.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Roy said, matching your amusement.

Your expression flattened. “A few weeks ago you announced to the locker room that you’d slept with four of the Spice Girls, Roy,” you said plainly, and Roy sat up straight defensively.

“Only because Tartt was fucking boasting and someone needed to shut him up!”

“Was it Posh Spice?” you asked.

“What?”

“The one you didn’t sleep with, was it Posh Spice?”

“Fuck no,” he said immediately. After a beat, he added, “It was Ginger.”

Your eyes widened at his response, but your laughter overtook you faster. You leaned back in your chair and burst with unavoidable chuckles, the kind that you felt in your belly, the ones that felt impossible to stop. Only when they started to settle did you sit up again, only to discover an utterly new look on Roy’s face. His features were soft and his jaw settled. There was a tiny smile on his lips, but not enough to show off his teeth, or to take up the entirety of his face. His eyes roamed your features gently, until you were certain you’d landed upon a name for his expression–

Affection. Roy was looking at you affectionately.

You let out a final soft chuckle. “You’re fucking amazing,” you let out.

Roy raised his brows, chuffed at your genuinity. “Is that why you wanted to write about me?”

You settled. “Yes,” you said, affectionately. It just sort of… fell out of your mouth. One word that was an exact copy of the look he was giving you.

Electricity buzzed between you, enough to startle you innately. You glanced at the time on your laptop again– past midnight. You hated it, but you feared that time was up. You’d got all you’d needed, and you didn’t want to take up more of Roy’s time, despite the feeling that he had no desire to be done with the conversation.

Roy’s eyes flicked back and forth between your own, frantically, like he couldn’t settle. He was on edge, he was buzzing, and he had no intention to break his focus from you. He knew it would come to an end though, when you inevitably mentioned the time and made another joke about being old at heart. He thought back to the night of the charity ball, then, when you unintentionally spent the entire evening together. When you’d walked off to the bathroom, he and Jamie had attempted to find a middle ground at the bar. All the while, his eyes had constantly flicked back and forth between the beer in his hands, and the direction that you’d walked. He’d only moved away from the bar for a moment, but when he’d returned to find it utterly empty, he knew you’d decided to leave. He couldn’t understand it then, but annoyance had struck him in the heart– you hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye, hadn’t even tried to find him again to send him an awkward wave before you walked home. That’s what led Roy to leave, himself. He took a final scan of the vast room, before he stuck his hands in his pockets and headed for the exit. When he emerged into the cold Richmond air, you were standing at the bottom of the steps, shaking subtly, as you tried (and failed) to find directions home, using Google Maps on your phone. It was an innate feeling that had him descending the steps and taking off his jacket, only to drape it over your bare shoulders. The same innate feeling hit him when you stood outside his house. It made him invite you in for a drink, but the look on your face had shown him everything– it was going to be a no, and that was the moment that had cemented who you were to him. Sensible. Smart. Holding yourself back.

Roy had held himself back from things his entire life, but he didn’t want to do it anymore. He wanted to answer your questions genuinely and open himself up to being judged by others– by you, sat opposite him, looking into his eyes like you were trying to find something, anything, to talk yourself out of having another drink with him.

“What about you?” Roy said suddenly, taking you– and himself– by surprise.

You tilted your head at him. “What about me?”

“No, no, don’t be fucking coy,” Roy said, leaning back in his chair comfortably. “I told you my life story, now it’s your turn to tell me yours.”

You scoffed abruptly, trying to ignore the warmth that radiated on your cheeks. “Fuck no. We’d be here all night, and you definitely wouldn’t look at me the same way.”

“That’s the whole fucking point,” Roy said. “I want to look at you differently, the way that you’re looking at me right fucking now,” he said, gesturing to the affectionate and bashful expression on your face.

He was right, you did know a lot more about him, and he knew fuck all about you. You felt mysterious for the first time in your entire life. There was a spark that glistened in your eye, one that was playful and ready to fall headfirst into this entire ordeal. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to open up to Roy– you did, oh man, you did– but you didn’t feel that now was the right time. Not after he’d just spilled his guts to you.

Roy gently leaned forward again, sliding his arms out in front of him, until his hands were close enough to touch your own. “What have you got to lose?” he asked.

A fist-full of answers bombarded your skull. Nothing. Everything. You. Myself. All of the above.

But the one you settled on, over all the rest, was the best one for you then. All the other words tried and failed to bounce over the wall that you’d built previously. You gently skimmed your fingers over Roy’s knuckles, trying to be playful. Touching Roy’s skin made your entire arm buzz with adrenaline. It shot up through your fingers and reverberated through your arm, until you got the shivers suddenly. You played it off as nothing.

“Sleep. I’ve got sleep to lose,” you said.

Roy’s hand twitched on the table, and for a second you thought he was going to reach out and take your hand in his. After your words hit him, however, he settled on retracting his hands back into his lap, and leaned back in his chair once more. He smiled at you in recognition, but you knew you’d just done it again– said no, when it was fucking obvious to both of you that you’d wanted to say yes.

“Past ten-thirty, is it?” he said gently.

“Way past,” you confirmed, but the words felt sour in your mouth.

Roy huffed to himself, but he didn’t come across like he was in any way annoyed. He shouldn’t be, you were perfectly within your right to call it a night, but you still felt guilty about it. Maybe that was a sign that you should stay.

“Another time,” Roy said before you could.

You smiled at him. “Another time.”

“I mean it,” he added, his voice transforming into something stern and dominating. “Otherwise we’re not fucking even.”

You nodded, faking seriousness, despite the playful smile on your lips. “Everyone knows that not being even is illegal.”

“Exactly.” Roy nodded.

The conversation had reached its end. As you packed your belongings, Roy picked up the glasses and bottles from the table and took them to the kitchen. Quickly, he washed the two whiskey glasses in the sink, while you shuffled your bag into your shoulder. Left beneath it on the table was Roy’s jacket. You stared at it sharply, forgetting that you’d even brought it with you.

Quickly, without fucking thinking, you picked it up and abruptly stuffed it into your bag. You shoved it between your laptop and a notebook, before you turned around to find that Roy was already looking at you.

“You okay?” he asked, noticing the subtle panic on your face.

You nodded. “Just checking I have everything.”

Roy walked you to his front door. He was a few paces behind you the entire time, only looming over you when he reached forward to pull the latch on his solid wood door. He tugged it open, and you slotted yourself underneath the frame, before you turned around to face him.

You peered up at him, meeting his eye without any hesitation. You let out a content sigh. “Thank you for doing this,” you said, and you really fucking meant it.

“No problem,” he said gently.

“I’ll let you know when I’m done with the article.”

Roy nodded in response, keeping his expression the same. You thought he’d say something smart, something that would make you chuckle or giggle, something that would make your cheeks warm violently once more, but he simply stayed silent as his eyes continued to skim over the features of your face.

“Goodnight,” you said first, knowing it was best not to linger– even though you wanted to; even though Roy wanted you to.

“Goodnight,” Roy said after, but neither of you moved a muscle. You didn’t step back and leave his front door step, nor did he step back and make an indication of closing his front door.

Instead, Roy stepped forward. You froze as he leant down and placed a small peck on your cheek, one that was over just as soon as it had fucking began. For a split second, you felt the scratch of his beard and the warmth of his skin, and then it was gone. You smiled, and then, just like his kiss, you were gone.

On the walk home, you clutched your bag fiercely. Roy’s jacket felt like it was burning a hole through the fabric, but you didn’t fucking care. You weren’t ready to give it up yet, especially not when the prospect of another another time had cropped up once more. You tried not to think, but absolutely failed. Words scrambled in your head painfully, bashing the base of your skull and bumping into the plush walls of your brain. There was one word that screeched above all else, and it was only getting louder–

Him, him, him, him, him.

On Monday, Jamie Tartt was gone. It was a shame, considering his abrupt change of heart at the so-called cleansing the previous week, and the fact that Ted had finally managed to get through to him in a way. In fact, Ted was seething. You didn’t think that Lasso had an angry bone in his body before the news dropped, but when he sullenly returned from Rebecca’s office, he took down Tartt’s football shirt from his cubby sadly.

You leaned against the door to the manager’s office, shooting a sunken face at Ted as he gently pushed past you.

“Well,” you said, turning around to face him. “This is shit.”

“That is a mighty fine way to put it,” Ted said, as he dropped Tartt’s shirt on his desk. “Man City recalled him. Guess they didn’t like the fact I put him on the bench.”

You shrugged. “It’s a shame…. but, alternatively, now he’s Pep’s problem again.”

Ted, Beard and Nate all shot their stares to you instantly. You frowned at them, feeling uncomfortable suddenly. “What?”

“You said something about football that was actually correct,” Beard said, gobsmacked.

You huffed, annoyed. “Come off it. I know a lot more about football now!”

“About another team, even,” Nate said. “That’s impressive.”

“Come on, guys. Leave her alone,” Ted said, stepping forward. “She still knows more about this sport than me.”

You winced. “I know a lot more than I once did, Ted, but it’s still not a huge amount.”

Tes shrugged. “That’s why I’ve got you guys!” He happily smiled around the room, looking at Beard and Nate in turn. You let out a scoff, before you sent them all a wave goodbye and headed back to your office.

You had a day full of writing ahead of you, and you simply couldn’t wait.

As the weeks went by, you slept less and less. It got so bad that you’d often find yourself still awake when the sun was beginning to rise. Writing was all you could do. Alongside your assignments, you were dedicated to Roy’s article, spending any free time you had to yourself on it, and abandoning your usual self care and comfort.

The guys were scared of you, slightly. You were snappy and sleep deprived, with a one track mind that they couldn’t understand. Even Roy found himself concerned enough to eventually check up on you, which was a task for him, too.

He often thought back to a few weeks before, when you and he had chatted for hours about his life. You’d sat at his table, drank his beer, shared a whiskey with him— and then you’d left again. When you’d entered his house, he spotted his jacket on your arm, but as the night went on, both of you had forgotten about its inevitable return. Before you took your leave, Roy witnessed you shoving it back into your bag. He hadn’t said anything. He’d found it funny and endearing, and he had to admit to himself that he’d looked at you with the most affection he could muster at that moment. Not that you knew, not that he wanted you to, but Roy Kent had a definite soft spot for you.

That was why he agreed to the article in the first place, after all.

When he finally plucked up the strength to check on you, he found you at your desk— fast asleep. Your laptop was open in front of where you’d leaned your cheek down upon the wood, papers sprawled everywhere. There was an almost uncomfortable look on your face, like your subconscious knew that you should be awake and writing, yet it had finally overtaken you.

He peered down at you softly, and balled his fists to stop himself from sitting down opposite you to gently push a few strands of hair from your face. He knew he should leave, but he also knew you’d get mad if you knew he’d seen you this way and not woken you. Slowly, softly, Roy leant down and gently poked a finger to your cheek. He did it a few times, whispering wake up, until you finally stirred. Anyone else in this fucking club and he would have yelled from the get-go, but you were different; he didn’t want to startle you.

You came around finally, and flinched as soon as you opened your eyes. Seeing Roy’s face after an intense nap wasn’t something you were used to at all. You let out a visceral “Jesus fucking Christ!”

Roy only perked his brow at you. “Dreaming about unicorns and rainbows, were you?”

You rubbed your eyes tiredly, and stopped yourself from sleepily scratching them out of their sockets. “I wish.” Roy growled questioningly, wanting you to go on. You sighed. “I wasn’t dreaming about anything. Sorry to disappoint,” you said, peering up at him grumpily. It was your own fault that you felt so bad, you knew, but you’d been short with everyone for the last week because of it.

“Not to state the obvious, but you look fucking awful,” Roy said, to which you scoffed abruptly.

“Thanks for that,” you let out.

“What the hell is up? Has something happened?” he asked, crossing his arms at you with stern concern.

“Nothing’s wrong, it’s fine,” you said, waving him off. “There just aren’t enough hours in the day to do everything, or to stay awake for.”

“Is this about the article?” Roy asked.

You guiltily peered up at him. “I just— can’t stop writing. It feels like I’ll fucking die if I spend a single minute away from it.”

“You’re not gonna die by taking a break, but you will die from sleep deprivation. That’ll turn you fucking mental,” Roy said.

You yawned— hugely. “I know, I know,” you said, before you settled. You allowed yourself to smile at him. “I’m almost done, actually. I’m so close.”

Roy huffed. “Good. Take a fucking break then.”

“I will, just not—,”

“Come to Liverpool with us, for the Everton game,” he said suddenly. “I know the lads want you with us, and it’ll give you time to calm the fuck down.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but you stopped when you actually thought about it. The Everton game was four days away, which meant you had three to finish the article completely, before you submitted it. You could do that. That was doable.

“Well, I mean,” you started, before you finally shrugged. “I have been wanting to go to more away games. And, if the guys want it, then I definitely want to show my support.” You smiled at Roy with a finality.

He nodded in approval and uncrossed his arms. “Okay,” he said softly.

For a moment, the two of you looked at each other thoughtfully. Perhaps your minds were bombarding you both with flashbacks from a few weeks ago, when you’d both said goodbye at his door when it was obvious that neither of you had wanted to. Since then, due to how much work you had to fucking do, you hadn’t thought much of it. But at night, before bed, your mind often wandered. Roy’s face popping into your head had almost become normal, especially with the added security of his jacket still on the peg by your door. You called yourself silly for taking it back, but you still hadn’t returned it since that fumble.

Roy cleared his throat abruptly, pulling both of you out of your thoughts. You sucked in a sharp breath and smiled at him, trying to cover up how loud your thoughts about him actually were. He did the same, inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, until the moment had dissipated.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Roy said, breaking the silence.

You huffed affectionately. “Thank you.”

Rod nodded, before he headed to the door and left. You leaned back in your chair when you were alone, stretching your arms above your head to get some feeling back into them after your nap. You stared at the ceiling for a moment, noticing the cracks in the cinder block bricks and the awful paint job, but it was only to distract you from thinking about Roy.

Roy, who was definitely a gentleman in disguise. Roy, whose jacket you had on a peg in your flat. Roy, who wanted you around him and his team. Roy fucking Kent. Writing the article didn’t make your crush on him any easier, but only perpetuated your feelings to oblivion.

A few days later, while you laid in bed at God knew what time, your heart swelled to a thousand times the size of normal. You’d just written the final sentence, just tweaked the final edits, and your article was finally done. In a frenzy, you opened the Independent’s website and immediately went to submit it, but you stopped yourself before you could. Somewhere within you, you knew that you needed Roy to read it before you could, otherwise it wouldn’t be fair. With one more day until travelling to Everton, you knew it wasn’t the best time at all. You’d tell him after the match that you were done, and as soon as he read it, you’d submit it if he was happy.

You went to sleep elated and buzzed, but still managed to drag yourself to work the following morning. You clutched your laptop to your chest as if it were a fucking child, trying not to scare yourself into thinking that Roy would hate what you’d written about him. As you entered your office, you found Keeley sat at your desk. You flinched in surprise as you turned the corner, but that surprise very quickly turned into a smile at her presence.

“Hey babe!” Keeley said, jumping up from your chair and rounding your desk quickly. She picked up one of two coffee cups from the desktop and handed it to you. “I brought you coffee.”

You took it from her, but you weren’t dumb. Keeley was here for something, and you didn’t know what. “Alright– what do you want?” you said, shooting her a playful look.

Keeley let you settle behind your desk, as she started pacing the space of your office. You dropped your laptop down and sat in your chair heavily, trying not to show just how tired you were.

“Well, I know you’re coming to Liverpool with us tomorrow, but I had a feeling that you might be done with your article…”

You rolled your eyes at her, tapping the lid of your coffee cup. “You want to read it, don’t you?”

Keeley lunged at your desk, shooting herself forward so your noses almost touched. “Of course, I do! After reading what you wrote about Rebecca last time, I’ve been dying to read more of your stuff.”

You opened your laptop up, smiling to yourself as you clicked onto the article. It was already loaded on the Independent's website, you just hadn’t sent it off. “I could do with someone looking at it, actually. I… I don’t know if I’m going to submit it.”

“Why?” Keeley said, taking a seat on your desk before you.

You peered up at her, furrowing your brows. “I don’t know if it’s good enough.”

“Well,” Keeley said, quickly spinning the laptop in her direction. “I’ll be happy to sing your praises after I read it.”

You smiled at her smally, grateful to have her in your life. “Speaking of Rebecca, I actually have a meeting with her this morning,” you said, as you stood. “Happy reading!” you added, and Keeley practically jumped back into your chair as you left.

You walked to Rebecca’s office slowly, breathing through the immense grogginess that you felt. You drank Keeley’s coffee in record time, but the caffeine wasn’t enough on its own. You knew you should go home to rest, but you didn’t want to when all that you were feeling was self-inflicted. You could sleep early when you got home, and on the bus up to Liverpool in the morning. You’d live.

You knocked on the door to Rebecca’s office a minute later, and let yourself in when she mumbled it was okay to do so. “Oh, good morning, darling,” she said, waving you inside as you shut the door behind you. She stopped smiling when she got a proper look at you. “Fucking hell, what’s wrong with you?”

You laughed tiredly. “Good morning to you, too,” you croaked. “I’m just… a little tired.”

“I can see that,” she said, looking at you up and down with concern. She stood abruptly and whisked herself over to her bar cart, while you swayed on the spot in front of her desk. “Sit,” she instructed you, pointing at you sternly, before she went back to her plan. You did as you were told.

Rebecca popped a coffee pod into the top of her Nespresso machine and placed a cup beneath the spout. When she clicked a button the machine started to thrum, before a boiling hot and aromatic stream of coffee was produced. When it was done, Rebecca placed the espresso in your hands and perched back onto her desk. She peered down at you the way a mother would sternly tell off her child.

“Why do you look like you haven’t slept in days?”

“Because I haven’t slept in days,” you replied, subtly huffing at your own joke. Rebecca shot daggers at you. “Sorry. It’s just this article for the competition.”

“The one about Roy?” she asked.

You nodded. “I finished it last night, actually, so I won’t be like this for much longer, don’t worry.” You took a trepidatious sip of coffee, but as it slinked down your throat you felt your heart buzz with electricity. It was both invigorating and incredibly anxiety inducing.

“Congratulations,” Rebecca said, and her expression changed to something softer. “Have you sent it off yet?”

“No,” you said lowly. “I don’t think I will for a bit longer.”

“Why?”

You winced. You knew that if you were to tell Rebecca and Keeley the reason for you not sending it off, that they’d only yell at you to get over it. Roy agreed to this from the start, so surely he was fine with you actually submitting it. “It’s just that I want Roy to read it before I do, is all.”

Rebecca let out an abrupt cackle, so loud that it startled you. Your espresso wobbled in your hand. “Oh, please. Roy wouldn’t know a good article if it reached out and punched him in the face. Nor would he care.”

Rebecca was right, even if it hurt for her to say it. “I know, I know. It’s just that it’s about him, and I don’t want him to hate what I’ve written.”

“Of course, he’s going to hate it,” Rebecca said immediately, and your face soured. “And that’s no reflection on you, darling, it’s all on him. I think you should submit it, just get it over with.”

You let out a sigh. As much as you knew she was right, you wanted to believe that Roy cared about what you’d written. You felt you’d done him justice, that you’d written about what actually mattered in his life, but there was always an element of the unknown when you wrote about someone else. Would they like it? Would they think it was shit? All those same questions cropped up at you with Roy Kent as the subject, and you knew that you’d find out what he thought of it one way or another– whether that was when he read it on your laptop, or in the paper.

But still, you respected him. This wasn’t just a one woman job, this wasn’t just about you, this was about him, too. And despite understanding every reason that was laid out in front of you, you still wanted approval from him before you sent it off. That was the end of it.

You took another sip of espresso, and Rebecca sent you a raised brow stare. There was some playfulness behind it, some giddiness that made you both look and feel like schoolgirls again. Rebecca moved to sit opposite you, picking up her tea and sipping upon it to match you. You caught eyes with her, immediately understanding what she was saying to you telepathically.

Something is happening between you and him, isn’t it?

You finished your espresso, while Rebecca placed her cup down on its saucer again. She leaned her chin on her knuckles as you sorted yourself out opposite her. You shuffled in your chair and sat back comfortably, and when you looked up again you saw that she was staring at you with a concerned gaze, once again.

You let out a huff. “Rebecca, I’m fine.”

“Be careful,” she said softly, seriously.

You frowned at her, confused. “Of what?”

“He’s a footballer,” she continued. “We should all be careful of footballers. Especially the kind ones.”

You swallowed her words forcefully. It was only then that you dawned on all of this being scary. A crush could turn into more, especially with how Roy was around you. You felt special, it was true, and that was the most dangerous thing of all. Inside you, that wall shot itself towards the sky once more. Behind it, you tried trampling your feelings down, but you knew it wouldn’t hold them at bay forever.

You started your meeting, and for that hour, you didn’t think about Roy once.

Downstairs, beneath two layers of concrete, Keeley Jones finished reading your article. It was brilliant, and she knew that if you didn’t win it would be an absolute crime. She skimmed her favourite parts over and over again, and was pleasantly surprised to find herself looking at Roy in a different light after inhaling your words about him. She harboured a bad feeling that made her believe you’d never actually submit it, whether it was from your fear of being good or not, or something else entirely.

That’s what led her to a lightbulb moment, one that overtook her senses and had her checking if you were returning from Rebecca’s office. When she saw the coast was clear, she smiled to herself. Lucky for her, you were all ready to actually submit your work, but she knew you needed a bit of a boost– in the form of her doing it for you.

Quickly, deviously, Keeley scrolled to the bottom of the application page. Without thinking of any consequences, she clicked the big green button that said SUBMIT.

CHAPTER FIVE

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes @20th-centu-fairy-girl @royalestrellas @weakmoony-stuff @ironmanmagnetfridge @lemonpiegurll @hellomagicalsouls @her-fandom-sanctum @gothicwidowsworld @old-enough-to-know-better73 @djarindroid @afraidofshrimp @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @queen-of-dumbasses @sogoodtoheritsvicious @lznnph1l @crav1ngc4ke @onceuponaoneshot @jamieolivia27 @dadbodfanatic-x @kelp-dreaming @harrypedro465 @lonely-escape-artist @abeeabeeabee @nicklet94 @libsybum @cha0sdreaming

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rinbowaman · 10 months

Note

hii and welcome to another episode of nik and rei’s talk shows….anyways

DUDE my boy heeseung is BOLD AFFF right from the start when he put his hand on her kneecap like …. last chapter it was heejeong and now my boy heeseung here is the one getting bold af and advancing with his moves hmmm mkay

“What do you want? Baby….sis?” that pause between baby and sis BRUV I KNEW IT bet he wanted to take off that sis in his sentence sooo bad I swear

“Night sweet thing.” HEE YOU BETTER STOP IT WITH THESE GODDAMN NICKNAMES-

also can I just say the way you described what we were wearing for the wedding oml 😌 got me feelin like a princess and shi 🤭 ANW

that inserted pic of heejeong with his handsome ass blonde hair and heeseung with mfing black hair TF REI DO YOU WANT ME TO HYPERVENTILATE?? GODDDD

“You would look so pretty in a wedding dress.” …..mhm okay respectfully back off 😊✋ propose first will ya? we’re five chapters in and heebros are already thinking abt marrying us REIII BIATCHH

also…KURT ahhh my mannn he seems like a sweet and cute boy good job reina

“are you two dating?” to which you nodded. WHOAA OKAY WE’RE MOVING FAAAASSSSTTTT

“Hi there, I’m Kurt.” oh shit bro 😭😭😭

I can feel the intense tension and heat in that scene oh my days sorry kurt

“Wow, twins huh? My cousin just gave birth to twins.” our innocent kurt…prayin for you 🙏🏻🙏🏻

also UHM FIRST KISS IN THE CAR SHIITT WE GETTIN SOME ACTION 😮‍💨😮‍💨

reina this end part…..

HOLYYY GODDAMNN SHIT THAT ENDING PART HEESEUNG YOU ARE FUCKINNN BOLDDDDD AFFFFFFFFF

five chapters in and heeseung has already had enough oh my, poor bae

BUT LITERALLY THO HELP WHAT THE HELL 🔥🔥🔥

THIS IS SO MFING HOT IM SORRY I CAN FEEL THE HEAT EMITTING FROM THE SCREEN WHOOOOO IM SWEATING

“Let me fix it." oh we’re fuuuuuucked.

and that cliffhanger rei the loml SERIOUSLY WHY YOU GOTTA DO THIS TO ME 😭😭🫵🫵

dude this might be my favorite chapter out of the five my gosh the writing in this 🤌🏻🤌🏻

this is a long reaction sorry bb 🥲

LOOOVVVVEEEEDDDD ITTTTTT

mwa mwa 💕

I LOVE THIS!!!!!! lol!!!

yeah heebros aren't happy with mah girl y/n, so...yeah....heeseung gets first dibs i guess lol. but man..you right, he's bold af....."let me fix it"

"let me beat and say sorry to it with my tongue." ?????? whooooooooooooooooa! man is hot for her..like he's down bad. golly!

i bet i can tell which part was your favorite ;) lol. and you know just how much i love cliffhangers, but dont worry....bc i'm going to more than make up for it next chapter....oh good lord girl...you thought this was fire.....guess again. yo...even chapter 7......oh good god....you gonna be in for it. dude i can't get over the last quote for heeseung, i actually read it somewhere before a long time ago...or it was something similar to it and i just remembered it last minute and was like "yeah...that's going to fit in nicely" .....i underestimated that damn saying bc that shit brought out Lulu....now we all delulu. (someone put lulu back in her cage...NOW) but you know mah girl y/n...she's caving in. she wants it just as bad, she just in denial, but heeseung right there about to "fix it" .....and trust me....he fixes her good.

#heeseung smut #enha x reader #heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung fanfic #enhypen yandere #yandere enhypen #yandere heeseung #heeseung yandere

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seafoamswindler · 3 years

Text

Love having no textures for bloodhounds hands

#apex legends #bloodhound #love that for them so much #also YEA i censored me and my teammate #if youre not self censoring-- are you even running a blog?#didnt think so.#also respawn?#yeah fix your shit bruv.

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fantasy2739 · 3 years

Note

Jamie Prompt: Nightmares during an overnight trip so one of the teammates or multiple hear and help him. OR they find old bruises/scars from his dad's abuse. Just want to see the effects of the abuse and the team seeing those effects/helping him.

Hahahaha angst my favourite.

Gonna be honest not sure I nailed this.

Enjoy!

They just won a match against Nottingham Forest. It was a brutal match. City Ground was filled with jeers and cheers from both sides. Probably inspired by the horrific loss at Wembley. Richard nearly got taken out by one of the Nottingham players, Dani had received a dubious yellow, Sam was covered in more scrapes and bruises than should be possible, and Jamie had gone full prick without even waiting for a signal. It was a shit match. Roy grumbled the whole way back to the hotel how they were probably going to have to flee in the dead of night. Jamie just feels like shit. They should be happy. They won. Jamie thinks it’s because maybe some of the insults got a bit too personal. Maybe because at half time after one of the players had shoved Jamie and called him a pussy, the whole team had shot him looks of concern. Jamie had ignored the looks, the pounding of his heart and tried to listen to Ted. Maybe because it was just a shit match. The point is Jamie feels like shit.

“Movie night?” Ted asks, lightly, like he wouldn’t mind if they said no. There were nods, murmurs of agreement, because none of them wanted to go out really. They all cram into a big room and settle in for a movie. The choice is given to Ted, who always seems to nail the film choice. He puts on My Neighbour Totoro, probably because it’s all cute and shit. Jamie’s got to admit, it’s pretty hard to stay angry watching some fluffy thing be stupidly cuddly and friendly. It’s just a nice movie. He’s a bit apart from everyone else, half curled onto a pillow he nabbed from his room. He’s dead sleepy. If he closes his eyes just a little, it’ll be fine.

It fucking isn’t.

Jamie’s had nightmares for years. They’re pretty fucking consistent actually. His fears haven’t really changed from childhood. The same man appears. The same insults. Injuries. Pain and memories swirl into one.

Years of experience have ingrained it in his mind and body to not be loud. The vulnerability that comes with sleep keeps his mind in a state of stress. He’s never been a heavy sleeper. Too wary of footsteps in the night. If he wakes the sleeping horror in his house he knows he’s in for worse. Apparently though, he moves, a lot. And whimpers. It’s pathetic really. He’s an adult. He shouldn’t be fucking like this. He’s always in motion anyway, so it occurring in his sleep doesn’t seem like a big deal. The odd twitch is probably ignored. The violent twisting, whimpers, and arms raised in defence are not.

He’s not sure how long he’s out but there’s hands on his shoulders as he almost bolts upright. He nearly takes Isaac out. Jamie’s breathing heavily. He wrenches himself from Isaac’s grip, hands on him too much to bare.

“You alright bruv?” Isaac asks, almost gentle. Jamie just nods, not trusting his voice to come out strong.

“The fuck you are.” Roy growls. Jamie can’t help the way his body tenses. Can’t stop the way his eyes flit around in panic.

“Jamie.” Someone says hesitantly. It’s Sam, crouching down next to him. “Are you sure you are alright?” Jamie’s eyes slowly make their way to Sam.

“Yeah, fine mate.” Jamie manages, glad he sounds tired rather than scared. “Just tired yeah.” That’s enough for some of the team who drift away slightly. But Sam stays crouching next to him. Isaac barely moves from his spot almost directly above Jamie. Roy slumps in a chair slightly away, most likely because of his knee. Dani has a frown marring his face, Zoreaux appears to be debating the benefits of crowding Jamie with the others, Richard cocking his head at him almost thoughtfully. Jan is fixing Jamie with a look reminiscent of an x-ray, while Bumbercatch is chewing on his lip in apprehension. Colin is sitting right behind Jamie, face almost carefully blank.

“You were making strange noises.” Jan says bluntly. There’s lots of way Jamie could reply. He could crack a sex joke, ease the awful tension. Brush it off as not important. Instead he shrugs.

“So?” He asks. He’s not a fan of the looks exchanged between his teammates.

“You sounded like you were… having a nightmare.” Sam says cautiously. Jamie scoffs like that’s complete bullshit. Like he didn’t just have exactly that. It’s stupid to act like this. But that childhood fear of pissing someone off remains forever present.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Colin asks softly. Jamie hates it. They’re treating him like one wrong word will make him shatter. He’s not fucking soft.

“I’m fine.” He insists. He’s getting really tired of the looks.

“It’s okay to have nightmares man.” Bumbercatch interjects. “It’s not like embarrassing.” Fuck no it is. It’s shitty, embarrassing, frustrating, and probably many other words.

“Talking about these things usually helps.” Sam offers quietly.

“Don’t worry amigo, we won’t judge you.” Dani says, Jamie just wishes he’d smile. Dani not smiling feels like a sign of the apocalypse.

“We’re here bruv.” Isaac adds.

“Was it the dickbag?” Roy asks with a low growl. It doesn’t exactly narrow it down. The Nottingham fans? The Nottingham players? His dad? Jamie shrugs again.

“I’m just gonna go to bed yeah.” He tells them, twisting away slightly. He almost trips getting to his feet, Zoreaux reaches to steady him. He flinches, hating himself slightly. He grabs his pillow and tries to leave again. Roy stands up to block him.

“Was it James?” He asks, voice lowering. Like it’s just him and Jamie in the room. “Look Jamie if you need to talk about what that dick did to you-.”

“I don’t.” Jamie says quickly. “I don’t need to talk about him.” There’s a tension in the room that you could cut with a knife.

“We didn’t talk after Wembley.” Roy says, clearly remembering how Jamie had just shut everyone off when anyone asked. “Let us fucking help you.”

“Is your father always terrible to you?” Jan asks bluntly. Jamie’s eyes shoot daggers at him.

“None of your fucking business.” He snarls. Internally he cringes, thinking it sounds too much like James. Jan merely raises an eyebrow.

“Jamie if he hurt you when you were younger then maybe you should talk about it.” Sam offers. Like bringing up the past is going to make things better. Like talking ever fucking helps. Jamie wants to scream.

“So he beat the shit out of me when I was a kid. So he was a useless fucking parent. ” Jamie snaps, tears prickling at his eyes. The open looks of horror on some of his teammates faces makes him cringe. He can’t stop though, can’t just leave it as is. “He’s my fucking problem.”

“Fucking hell Jamie, he shouldn’t have done that.” Roy growls. Richard grumbles something in French that Zoreaux nods in agreement with. It’s sounds angry and Jamie’s pretty sure he hears the name James muttered.

“It doesn’t matter.” Jamie insists.

“Of course it matters.” Sam replies. “You matter.” He probably shouldn’t scoff but Jamie can’t help it.

“Jamie, do we need to talk?” Roy asks, voice low. Jamie drops his pillow and flings his arms up.

“Fuck sake can’t we just drop it yeah? My dads a dick. We all know that.” He snaps. If the conversation continues he knows he’s going to cry. He’s going to sob like a little kid, fucking embarrassing. Roy steps closer, making Jamie shrink back. He wants to disappear into the ground. There’s nervous eyes all around.

“Let us help you amigo.” Dani says. “We are a team yes?” He offers Jamie a small smile. Jamie wishes he was yelling. Or that someone was angry, mad. Any fucking negative emotion. He knows how to deal with those. Instead everyone insists on huddling round him, offering support, caring about him.

His dad isn’t here but he can hear him calling him soft.

“It’s not… I don’t…” Jamie struggles to find the words. The ones that won’t make him cry and get everyone to leave him alone. “I just want to go to bed.”

“No way bruv.” Isaac shakes his head. “Not until you talk to us.”

“It’ll just be quicker if you do.” Colin says with a shrug, his face soft as he looks at Jamie. Jamie shoves his hands into his hoodie and blinks hard. “Otherwise we’ll just hound you til you break and tell us anyway.” Jamie stares at his team, that are standing round him like they’re worried he’s going to break if they get too far away.

“We won’t judge you.” Zoreaux says. “We just want to help.” Jamie is weak. He’s weak to them caring, with sad eyes, horrid glances. He doesn’t deserve a team ready to catch him when he falls but he’s lucky. He takes a deep breath.

“I’ve had nightmares for years.” He mumbles. “Bout him. I don’t… I’m not gonna talk about what they’re like about.” The team is nodding in understanding. “I just get so scared. And it’s stupid. I fucking hate it. I hate it so much.” Jamie sniffles, Sam and Dani move closer, both offering comfort. Jamie moves slightly out of reach, dropping onto his pillow and pulling his legs to his chest. “I don’t wanna talk about him.” It’s said into his legs but he knows they hear him. He hears a horrible cracking sound as Roy sits next to him. An arm snakes it’s way around his shoulders, he can’t help but tense. He feels someone else sit on his other side.

“Puppy pile.” He hears Bumbercatch say and suddenly there’s nine grown men leaning on him as he’s pushed close to the floor. Jamie’s pretty sure Isaac is behind him playing pillow, Colin’s on his left shoulder. Sam is on his left leg and so is Dani. Bumbercatch is somehow across both legs. Roy is looming by his right shoulder. Zoreaux is half resting on Jamie, half on Roy. Richard has managed to curl up practically on Jamie’s stomach. Jan is somewhere around his knee.

“Fuck Richard, ease up a bit.” Jamie grumbles. “I can’t breathe.”

“No.” Richard says sweetly even as he adjusts a bit so that Jamie’s lungs can actually work.

“Bro you have really bony ankles.” Bumbercatch says.

“Fuck off.” Jamie mumbles. He twists slightly, leaning into the collar of Roy’s jacket. He feels safe in the pile of people. Jan complains that he is too much person to be forced into such a cramped position. Colin cracks a joke about being too much person to handle. They’re giggling a little, letting Jamie feel at ease.

The nightmares stay away for once.

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strawberrylemonz · 3 years

Text

Laying out Foundation

Part 1

Part 2 [CURRENT]

Part 3

Dedicated to @wintercat96 I’d like to thank them for sticking around and helping me out in the little ways!

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

“Who the FUCK are you?!”

“Me?! Who the FUCK are you?!”

“I’m TommyInnit!”

“Wtf? No you’re not! I’m TommyInnit!”

“Fuck you!”

“No, fuck you!”

Before either of the boys could say another word, a loud boom of thunder caught them off guard. Falling back in similar manners, the two yelled out in synchronized shock as a bolt of lightning barely missed them.

“AH, WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Catching their breathes, the two Tommy’s exchanged a look before scrambling to their feet. Quickly wiping off the dirt off their clothes, the Tommy with the yellow gem cleared his throat, speaking up.

“Okay okay okay okay, let’s figure this shit out after we find shelter.”

“Yeah, I can agree with that. Let’s get out of here before the weather turns all shit on us.”

The two of them grabbed their items, not that they had much on them. Aside from the blue gem, a handful of bread, some seeds, and a water bucket, Tommy didn’t own much at the time. Everything else was back at his house. The other Tommy seemed to only really have his yellow gem and a guitar. Giving a nod to each other, they made their way through the trees.

--------

They had managed to find a couple of large wooden crates and some strong bungee cords. Using their strength stubbornness, the two managed to pull one of the crates up into a large tree by a decently sized clearing. After struggling for a bit, they managed to secure it with some cords. A groan could be heard from the large crate in the tree.

“Why don’t we just chop down a tree to craft some wooden planks? We don’t have axes, so it won't be as fast, but it’ll be easier than this!”

The other Tommy just raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. Giving out a partial laugh, he motioned towards the trees around them.

“Alright, big guy, then show me how it’s done.”

Rolling his eyes, the Tommy in question climbed out of the tree, grumbling as he approached a nearby tree. Looking at it up close, he noticed how different it looked compared to the trees back at home. Confused, he just shrugged and began punching, much to the confusion and concern of the other boy. Finally, afraid of having to clean a future infection without the proper supplies, he climbed down to stop the tree puncher.

“Alright, alright, stop stop stop stop. You don’t have to break your fucking hands because you’re annoyed with me, what the fuck ma-”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He froze in place, completely baffled and unsure as to whether or not he was seeing things. His double, who he was sure was insane, had just punched a chunk of the tree out. That wasn’t the only crazy thing about, the tree was still standing up, despite missing the center of its trunk. He watched in silence as the boy continued punching the tree, somehow causing its leaves to drop apples, tree saplings, and stick. Once his double finished, he somehow turned the punched tree parts into planks, then used those and crafted a small table. He stared as the boy made ladders, stairs and planks.

“...whA T THE FU C K?!”

--------

The two soon realized that there are abilities that the two of them can both do, as well as abilities that only one of them are capable of doing. After a screaming of match about such stupid logic, they accidentally discovered that they could combine their separate abilities to create something new. This became evident when they accidentally created a rope ladder for the tree. After all their arguing, however, there was one thing the two discovered that they could agree on.

“This treehouse is kick-ass”

“Hell yeah it is!”

As the sun began to set, the two boys quickly climbed into their newly made shelter. As one Tommy pulled up the rope ladder, the other spoke up to get rid of the silence.

“I wonder how many mobs will spawn in tonight.”

“I’m sorry, how many what?”

“Y’know, mobs. Zombies, skeletons, creepers, endermen, spiders-”

“I’m going to stop you there because I have no idea what you’re going on about. Sounds like complete, utter bullshit.”

“You said the same thing about the tree”

“Fuck you”

--------

It had been a week since the two Tommy’s were brought to this strange world. After much debate, they had finally decided to give each other nicknames, hoping that it would make telling the two apart by other people (if they did ever come across actual people). Despite these nicknames, they still referred to each other as “Tommy” when speaking to one another.

“Dude, how did you learn to sew? That makes all this so much easier for us.”

“I just kinda learned back when I was younger. I actually ended up making the uniforms for the revolution back home.”

“Holy shit”

Rust!Tommy [Toms] shot himself a confident smile as he stared at his reflection in the glass. Adjusting the broach made from his yellow gem on his coat, he fixed the fingerless gloves on his hands. Turning to peer behind him at his counterpart, he stepped aside to allow him to see his reflection. Dsmp!Tommy [Thomas] adjusted his trench coat, admiring his his handiwork. He forgot what it felt like to make outfits for fun, for comfort, not for war or survival. Humming in approval, he clasped the broach, which was made from his blue gem, closed, closing his leather belt around his waist.

“Looks nice, bruv”

“Heh, I know”

“We should design hats for us! Know how to make a cowboy hat?”

“Why the fuck would you want a cowboy hat?”

“I’ll look fucking awesome”

The two laughed as they climbed out of their treehouse, which, to Toms, was surprisingly still in the tree. He had asked Thomas about how that was possible, to which he just replied with, “That’s just how my world works.”

“You grab the wood and mine some cobble. I’ll gather sand and get the furnace going”

“Have fun hauling around buckets of sand!”

“Oh, fuck off. You know I can’t just store it in thin air like you can”

The two wrestled with each other’s arms, trying to mess up the other’s hair first. Toms cheered in victory as Thomas grumbled, heading to the trees. Humming to himself, he pulled out an axe and began cutting down wood. The two were working on an actual house to live in. As much as they enjoyed their treehouse, it wasn’t very big on it’s own. That’s why, much to their delight, it was getting an upgrade. Once Thomas cleared out a good amount of trees, he took out some saplings and bonemeal. putting four saplings by each other, he stepped back and added bonemeal. A giant tree grew towards the sky, towering above the surrounding forest. He couldn’t help but smile at how the tree looked, being much more round than his trees back home. Patting the bark, he walked over the crafting table and began crafting. He was never a talented builder, but he did remember the different builds made back home. Besides, it was only his double that was sticking around. As different as the two were in most aspects, they wouldn’t seriously insult each other’s handiwork.

“That’s a huge tree”

Thomas, who was hallowing the inside of the tree, looked back at his double. Toms was staring up at the tree, bucket of sand in one hand, his other shielding the sunlight.

“Are we going to need all this room?”

“We’ll find a way to use all the space. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

Nodding, Toms started on loading the furnace, getting the glass started. Pulling out some rope, he began making more rope ladders for the tree. Thomas, on the other hand, finished hallowing out the tree and towered up the leaves using the inside. Sighing a content sigh, he began leveling the leaved area, shearing away the leaves and placing down wooden planks. He began putting up the third wall by the time his double climbed up. Looking around, Toms nodded in approval. Peering up at the leaves above them, he finally decided to speak up.

“What if we make large area? Just in case we have guests, or whatever.”

Thomas looked back at Toms, before also looking up at the leaves. Making a noise of agreement, he pulled out a piece of paper. Sitting down on the floor, he set out the paper and pulled out his ink and quill, handing it over to Toms.

“Let’s see what you’re planning. Go all out on the blueprints, I can build it.”

And with a warm look of approval at each other, the two got to work.

#into the Tommyverse #into the tommyverse au #rust! tommy #dsmp! tommy

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jk-unless · 3 years

Text

Tuwaine’s Friend

Pairing(s):Tom Holland x Black!Reader,Platonic!Tuwaine Barrett x Black!Reader

Warnings: None

Not Requested

~*~

You and Tuwaine became fast friends while he was visiting the states back in 2015. You ran into each other at a McDonalds.A middle aged woman was making a big scene about her order being made wrong.Tuwaine,who was in front of you in line,turned towards you and asked you if this was something that happened often.

“You mean at McDonalds?Have you never been here?”You asked,more curious than trying to be rude.

“Oh,I actually meant the states in general.” He clarified.The use of the term “the states” made everything click.

“Oooh,you’re not from here!Yeah,sadly,this is a pretty normal thing.It’s best to get a woman like her’s order exactly right the first time or there will be a scene.”

Tuwaine sighs in frustration. “I’m just trying to eat.”

“Don’t worry,it won’t be too much longer before she storms off.”You comforted him.As you said this,the woman let out a final obnoxious sigh.

“I will be calling corporate about this!” She angrily grabbed her takeout bag and stomped out of the restaurant.

“Thank God.” Tuwaine muttered quietly so only you could hear him.You giggled as he walked up to the counter.The cashier apologized about the scene to which Tuwaine assured her it was alright.He gave her his order then turned to you again.

“...And whatever the nice lady behind me wants.”

Your eyes widened a bit.”You sure?” You asked,taken back by the kindness.He nodded with a small smile.You thanked him then proceeded with your order.

The two of you ate together and talked about anything that came to mind.He eventually explained to you that it was actually his last day there before he went back home.Not wanting this to be last time you talked to the sweet guy, you decided to exchange numbers to keep in touch.

~*~

Now in present day,Tuwaine fools around with Tom between scenes of Spider-Man:Far From Home.As Tuwaine laughs about something with Tom,he gets a text from one of the staff members that someone by the name of Y/N L/N was there to see him.

“Oh shit,she’s here!” He exclaimed,jumping up out of his spot.

“Wait,the girl you mentioned earlier?I’m not ready!” Tom says,dramatically running to the nearest mirror to try to fix his hair.

“You’re Tom Holland,she’ll be happy to see you no matter what you look like.” He rolls his eyes at his friend’s desperate attempt to look more put together.In a matter of minutes,the two of them hear a knock on the door of Tom’s trailer.Tuwaine whips open the door and smiles when he sees you.He pulls you in and tackles you in a bear hug to which let out a startled and happy laugh.Tom smiles at the pure interaction in front of him.As Tuwaine let’s go of you,he finally introduces the two of you.

“Tom,Y/N.Y/N,Tom.” He motions between the two of you.

“Hi,it’s really nice to meet you.” Tom says with a bright smile that makes your face heat up.These are times where you’re happy that your melanin hides your shyness.

“Nice to meet you too,Tom.And may I just say,you’re even more attractive in person.”You say,making it Tom’s turn to blush.You discreetly watch in the corner of your eye as Tuwaine rolls his eyes.

“I can say the same about you!The pictures Tuwaine showed me didn’t do you justice.”Tom chuckles a bit as he remembers one pic in particular.”Especially the one where-“ Tuwaine quickly shushes him to save his own skin.Tom slapped a hand over his mouth,but it was too late.You menacingly turned towards you’re old friend.

“You showed Tom Holland an embarrassing picture of me?!”Before Tuwaine could even properly explain himself,Tom was called onto set.He quickly excused himself and told the two of you that he’ll be back in a bit.You watched him exit the trailer,then turned towards Tuwaine once again.He smiled nervously.

“You don’t have to go with him?” You asked,motioning to the door to which Tuwaine explained that he already filmed his scene.He tensed as you moved towards him,not expecting the hug that came after.

“You’re lucky I’ve missed ya ass too much to be mad at you.” You begrudgingly told him.He let out a sigh of relief and hugged you back.

“Oh,thank God.You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

~*~

As the day went on,the three of you actually spent a lot of time together.Even Jake,Zendaya,and Jacob would join you guys once in a while.And let me tell you,your heart was not ready for any of those interactions.You literally almost cried when Zendaya introduced herself to you.During you guys’ down time together,you’d often catch Tom sneaking glances at you.You didn’t want to get your hopes up,so you dismissed it as just him being curious of the person who seemed to mean so much to his dear friend.You really wanted to stay around all of these lovely people, but at around 1:00 in the morning you realized filming wasn’t going to end anytime soon and that you should probably turn in for the night.When you made this decision,it was only you in Tuwaine in the trailer.

“Tutu,I think I’m gonna head to the hotel now.” You announced,using the embarrassing nickname that you first gave him about three months into your friendship.He watched as you started to gather your things.”

Yeah,it is getting pretty late.You want me to come with you?”Tuwaine asked.You looked down with mock shyness and muttered “If you don’t mind.”He rolled his eyes and huffed at your antics.As the two of you made your way out of the trailer,he mentioned that you guys should inform Tom you were leaving.You agreed and the two of you headed towards the set.You made sure they weren’t filming before approaching Tom as he got his suit adjusted by a stylist.He smiled as he caught sight of the two of you,then realized you had you’re stuff in your hands.

“Oh,are you guys leaving?” He asked and pouted at you.His cute frowny face caught you off guard,but luckily Tuwaine answered for the both you.

“Yeah,this one here isn’t really used to being out so late.” He said motioning to you.”Not mention the slight time zone changed has me feeling a little off.” You added.

“Oh,no it’s fine,I totally get it.” Tom said,quick to reassure you that there was no problem.”So uhh,I’ll see you later,man.” He said,dapping Tuwaine off then turning to you with his arms open.”May I?” He asked.You giggled at his politeness and gave him an enthusiastic “Yeah,sure!” The hug was quick,but warm and overall really pleasant.As you were still holding each other,he muttered “It was really nice to meet you.” You smiled grew as you replied “You too,Tom.”

The two of you broke away and you and Tuwaine told him a final bye over your shoulder as you made your way to exit.

~*~

Like the good friend Tuwaine is,he got you safely to your hotel room and made sure you had everything you needed.He planned on staying with you for a bit,then realized that you were quite literally about to pass out.He turned off the lights for you as you plopped yourself down on your bed.Before he could fully close the door behind him.His text tone went off.He unlocked his phone to see that the text was from Tom.

Hey,you still around Y/N?

Tuwaine starred oddly at his phone.

Uh no,she’s passed out on her bed and I’m heading to my room.Why?

Okay,good!I got some questions.

You’re questions can wait,I need a shower.

Tuwaine replied as he set his things down in his own room.

DON’T LEAVE ME!! Tom dramatically texted back.Tuwaine shook his head at the text,threw his phone on the bed,and went to the bathroom to start his shower.

About half an hour later,Tuwaine came out of the shower and picked up his phone again.His attention was brought to a notification of a new text from Tom.

Tom: I hate you 😡

Tuwaine simply rolled his eyes,completely used to his friend’s dramatics. Sure you do.And we were literally in the same place like less than an hour ago,why didn’t you ask your qUeSTIonS then?

Tom: Because she was RIGHT THERE!

EXACTLY SO WHY DIDN’T Tuwaine began to write out,then realized what Tom meant by his text.Oooooh THOSE type of questions.Are they something on the lines of is she single?Maybe even her body count? Tuwaine asked,deciding to tease him.

Tom: SHUT TF UP ITS NOT LIKE THAT

Well maybe the first question...

I truly can’t stand you.

Tuwaine: You want the answer to your question or not?

Tom: 😐

Tuwaine: No she’s not seeing anyone 🙄

Tom: ...Set me up a date with her.

At that moment,Tuwaine really wished Tom was in his room with him just so he could see the look of disbelief on his face. Bruv I know you haven’t been on a date in a while,but that is definitely something you do YOURSELF.

Tom: But she makes me hella nervous!

Tuwaine: When did you start using the word hella?You’ve been spending too much time with Zendaya.

Tom: Can’t really help that when she’s,well,my literal love interest.

Tuwaine: Keep that attitude up and I’ll tell Y/N that you shit yourself in your sleep.

Tom: If you tell her that,you’ll have to say goodbye to my fans for me bc I’d literally throw myself off of the nearest building.

Tuwaine: You do that like every day on set,nothing new really.

Tom: I have to go arsehole.Please just send me her number.

Tuwaine: Sure.Don’t die while doing stunts or whatever.

Tom: Love you too Tuwaine 🥰😘❤️❤️😊

Tuwaine couldn’t help but laugh at the text as he put his phone on his charger and finally climbed into bed to rest.

~*~

Yow woke up at around 8:00am to a text from an unknown number.The text read Hey,it’s Tom!I hope you don’t mind that Tuwaine gave me your number.You smiled at the text and mentally noted to thank Tuwaine later. Oh I don’t mind at all 😊 What’s up Tom?Well I guess filming right?😂 You cringed at your reply but it was too late to delete it.You got a reply in less than a minute.

Tom: lol we actually got a lot done last night so I’m free for the day!

You: Oh cool!You got any plans for your day off?

I was actually hoping I could take you out for lunch? Tom surprised himself at his sudden confidence.He thought he’d end up giving you small hints that he wanted to hang out until eventually you were the one to ask.

You: I’d love to!What time were you thinking?

Tom: Can I pick you up for 12:00?

You: 12:00 would be just fine 😌 See you then!

Tom: See you then!

You were over the fucking moon.Tom Holland,one of your biggest celebrity crushes since CA: Civil War, just asked you out on a date.To say you were freaking out was an understatement.The date was literally four hours away,but you jumped up and started looking for an outfit anyway.Once you finally picked up the perfect outfit,with the limited clothes that you brought for your trip,you threw a hoodie over yourself and headed to the lobby,remembering that you were supposed to me Tuwaine for breakfast.

~*~

“So yeah I got a text that was like “Hey,it’s Tom!” and first my dumbass was like “Who the fuck is Tom?” then I read the rest of the text and I it mentioned you and I was like “Ooooh that Tom!” so then I texted him back and was like-“

“I hate to cut you off,” Tuwaine said,finally deciding to interrupt your rant “But it’s too early in the morning for you to be talking at this speed.”

You knew your friend was mostly just joking,but you sheepishly sunk down in your chair and calmed down a bit anyway. “My bad,I’m just really excited.”

“It’s cool,love.So I’m guessing this lead to him asking you out?”

“Yes!I’m saving my appetite because he’s taking me out for lunch!But that’s enough about my potential love life,how’d you sleep?” You asked and slightly leaned over with genuine anticipation.This brought a smile to Tuwaine’s face.

“Glad to see that you remember you came all this way to see me.” He mockingly told you,but you could tell he was genuinely touched.He went on to tell you that it felt like he was sleeping on a huge slab of stone,but he went to sleep anyway because he was too tired.You two had a long chat and before you knew it,it was time for your date.

(A /N: One thing I’m manifesting for myself starting this December 21st is a better sleep schedule.It’s getting late,but I didn’t want to go back on my word so I just cut it short 😅 Part 2 will be up soon though!)

#tom holland x black!reader #marvel cast imagines #marvel x black!reader #tuwaine barrett #tom holland

103 notes · View notes

imagines-by-rose · 4 years

Text

New Recruit - Part 1

Hello, again! Thank you all for the positive responses to my first fic, it means so, so much. I hope you enjoy this multi-part work!

Summary: Y/n is brought into Kingsman as Lancelot after the events leading to Roxy’s death, and Eggsy is furious. As the two work together to stop a notorious jewel thief, however, attitudes change - and feelings develop.

Pairing: Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Genre: Angst w/ a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Death

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He hated this. He hated her.

Well -- what she represented, at least.

He especially hated how much she reminded him of her predecessor. God, she even looked like her! This girl -- y/n, he remembered -- was the new Lancelot. Finished basic training with flying colors just last week. Just thinking about it made him scowl. She had no idea who’s place she was standing in. What right did she have to just waltz in with what he could only assume was pride? It was hard enough when Harry was killed. Now Roxy, his Lancelot, was murdered. And not two months since that damn explosion took her life, some new recruit is assuming her place? He just couldn’t stand it.

“Kingsman really doesn’t waste any fucking time, huh?” The bitter thought struck him.

“Galahad,” Merlin’s call of Eggsy’s codename fuzzed with an electric static through his eyeglasses. “You’re to join Lancelot and myself in the briefing room in five minutes. We’ve got a mission for you two.”

Oh, great.

* * * * * *

Eggsy stilled when he heard somber voices from behind the briefing room door. Curious, he leant his ear against the doorframe, trying not to make a sound.

“I can only imagine how hard this must be for you, y/n. I want to thank you personally for joining Kingsman on such short notice, given the circumstances. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.”

“Thank you, Merlin. That means a lot, really.”

Curiosity gave way to frustration. What could Merlin possibly have to console y/n over, of all people? Oh, sorry about the rushed training regimen, usually new recruits get ten days instead of seven. Is he serious? Merlin’s comforting Roxy’s replacement? She didn’t even know her.

Unbelievable.

Having heard enough, Eggsy roughly opened the door, abruptly ending any conversation. Y/n seemed timid at the sight of him, looking to her hands and twiddling her thumbs.

She looked pathetic. Eggsy wondered how someone like her could even become an agent at all.

He sat with a huff, surprised to see an outstretched hand before him.

"You must be Eggsy," she smiled politely. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I'm y/n y/--"

"It's Galahad."

Her hand faltered. "I'm sorry?"

"Address me as Galahad, agent." His voice sounded cold, even to him.

A simple "oh" was all she said before taking a seat.

Eggsy didn't miss the look of disapproval on Merlin's face. It made him feel like a scolded child.

Who was he? His mum?

He supposed that was a bit harsh, but Eggsy was nothing if not stubborn. He crossed his arms indignantly and looked away with a roll of his eyes.

The air was awkward as Merlin went over the details of the mission. Eggsy wouldn’t look at y/n in the eye. She was obviously uncomfortable, shifting in her seat whenever her attempts to lighten the atmosphere between them were refuted.

“This," Merlin tapped his clipboard, prompting a photo of a woman to appear on a screen behind him, "is Svetlana Ivanov. She's stolen several priceless jewels worldwide; the rarer the better. Though she came close, Ivanov failed to steal the Hope Diamond from the Smithsonian a few months ago. The Statesman saw to that mission."

Eggsy whistled. "Well that's impressive, innit? Goin’ after the Heart of the Ocean, an’ all?"

Merlin appeared unamused, but the mirth in his eyes betrayed him.

"Do you find attempting grand theft impressive, Galahad?"

Eggsy shrugged, a smug grin on his face.

"We’ve received intel that she plans to steal the Centenary Diamond from the Tower of London. There will be a gala held to honor the 39th anniversary of its unveiling, the guests at which will all be patrons to the exhibit. You two will pose as a newlywed couple whose families contributed handsomely to the museum - anonymously, of course."

Merlin handed each agent a black folder. "These reports contain Ivanov’s photo, as well as those of the philanthropists with whom we expect you to socialize. Attached to each photo is a dossier containing enough personal information about the attendees for you to appear acquainted. Commit them to memory; we don’t need you drawing unnecessary attention. Understood?”

Eggsy made a noise of disapproval, clearly unimpressed with the assignment. “You’re jokin', bruv. Newlyweds? With her?” Eggsy gestured at y/n. “Are you taking the piss, Merlin? She’s only been here a week and you’re gonna make us pose as newlyweds?”

The calmness in Merlin’s voice did little to mask his anger. “As you know, if you’ve got a problem, Eggsy, you may address it to me in private.”

Y/n risked extending the olive branch once again. “Eg--" she paused, catching herself. "Galahad, I know I’m new, but I’m a fast learner. I promise I won’t let the mission down. If you’re uncomfortable, we could get to know each other first? It might help us act more convincing. You’ve been here longer than I have, I’m sure you could help--”

Eggsy shot up from his seat, furious.

“Just fuck off, Lancelot! If you’re trying to chum up to me you can leave it out, yeah? You’re not Roxy and you never will be, so stop fuckin’ tryin'!”

Y/n sank into herself, her gaze falling to the floor.

“For fuck’s sake, Eggsy! Would it kill you to be a decent human being for five minutes?”

Merlin’s outburst grounded him. Eggsy turned back to her, his rage ebbing into a shame that gripped his chest. Y/n wasn’t crying -- she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction -- but the hurt in her eyes was unmistakable. Eggsy suddenly felt very small under her upturned glare. Her face twisted into a snarl, fists clenched at her sides, chest heaving.

She was livid.

“Y/n, I’m sor--”

“Don’t!” she spat. “Don’t you dare talk to me, Galahad.” Her voice growing more severe as tears began to swell in her eyes. “If anyone knows that Roxy -- that my sister is irreplaceable, it’s me.”

Eggsy’s eyes widened, his shame sinking deep and cold into his stomach. Now he’d really fucked up. He could only watch as y/n -- Roxy’s sister. Fuck! How did he not know? -- threw the door open and stormed out of the room.

He had to fix this.

“Care to tell me what the fuck that just was?”

Eggsy sank back into his seat, head in his hands.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath.

“Aye. A flaming heap of it, looks like.”

Merlin sighed and placed a comforting hand on Eggsy’s shoulder. “I know you miss her, Eggsy. We all do. But the world isn’t going to wait for us to finish mourning. Kingsman has a responsibility to uphold, as I’m sure you’re well aware.”

“I know, it’s just--” he sighed. “Seeing someone replace Roxy so fast…it was like she was being erased. I couldn’t stand it.”

Merlin’s hand gave Eggsy’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I know it looks cold to find someone to assume Lancelot’s position so quickly. But I assure you, Roxy will never be forgotten. You’re a testament to that, just as Harry was to your father.”

Eggsy’s lips tightened.

“What you’re feeling is shared by every Kingsman when an agent is lost. But we have always kept going. No one wants to know what could happen if we don’t press on.”

Eggsy rose from his seat. Merlin was right, as always.

“You’d better go sort this out. The mission is in two weeks and I need you both to be at your best.”

Eggsy nodded, heading in y/n’s direction before stopping at the door.

“Thanks, Merlin. I owe you one.”

“Anytime, lad.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope y’all are liking it so far! Part 2 is currently in the works, so I’ll try to get that out when I can.

‘Til next time!

#eggsy unwin x reader #eggsy imagine #kingsman imagine #angst

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reelybadfnafocs · 3 years

Text

My FNAF OC

Okay, I’m pretty new at this, but the idea for this particular FNAF oc has been floating in my head for a while. wassup its mod mangle here. gonna review the shit out of your oc. ill be talkin in this bold text is gonna look blue on the blog. alright cool les go

Name: Winchell The Clown-Wolf OK THIS FOLLOWS THE NAME RULE BUT CLOWN WOLF HAS ME SCREAMIN

Species: Wolf [I know it’s not original] it do not matter…dont worry

Job: Main Mascot, cheering up anyone who is sad, celebrations.

Purpose: to bring joy to everyone this, as well as the job description, is incredibly broad. its fine as a cheesy in-universe slogan, but when trying to build a character, youre probably gonna want to thaw this out more beyond a generic statement.

Creator: Robert [I can’t think up a last name for him, but he’s named after the Jack In The Box founder]

Location: Winchell’s Pizza and Burgers. ham burggy

Where: While he and his fellow animatronics usually perform on a stage based off of the little town they have in the commercials [think Mcdonaldland and other 70’s/80’s commercials], they’re mostly just free range [the reason is that unlike Fazbear Entertainment, Winchell’s is SUPER strict on customer and employee safety, this plays a role in my AU fic where they outlast Freddy’s because of it]

Age: I’m not sure what to put, but if it counts, Winchell’s was founded in 1978 [a year after OG Chuck E Cheese], but due to vengeful Freddy Fazbear employees, the chain closed in 2009. It reopened a few years later, with upgraded animatronics. instead of putting an age, try substituting this with a “years in service/use” section. im not sure about this whole age thing either tbh

Haunted: Sort of, Winchell is haunted by his original voice actor, but said voice actor only attacks [via Winchell] those who harm kids or employees. This is why the vengeful Fazbear employees don’t try again after the first attempt. not really a sort of then innit bruv! sorry idk how british people talk. anyway, yeah, this is definitely haunted. not by a vengeful evil spirit i suppose but still haunted.

Skill: Winchell will howl to alert the player of “Polar Freddy” [vengeful Freddy’s employee #1], “Arctic Bonnie” [Vengeful Freddy’s Employee #2], and “Icy Foxy” [Vengeful Freddy’s Employee #3]. Winchell can also distract some of the animatronics [including 2 of his own crew] that were re-programmed by the Freddy’s employees to harm people in various ways, but can only distract them for a small amount of time. He’ll also turn the power out to prevent both the employees and the animatronics from seeing, but this doesn’t work on Billy Bluebird [one of the reprogrammed Winchell’s animatronics], Snowy Chica [the only non-spring animatronic of the arctic themed re-opened Freddy Fazbear’s], Withered Toy Freddy, and Fixed SpringBonnie. [It also doesn’t work most of the time anyway, but at least he tries to help you.] Also, sometimes he’ll talk to you, which will catch the attention of Fixed SpringBonnie and the vengeful Freddy’s employees. At the end of the game, Winchell will defeat SpringBonnie permanently on the last night [but only if you don’t get jumpscared], but will have to sacrifice himself to prevent the other animatronics as well as the angry Fazbear employee’s from offing the player. NO NOT WINCHELL

Appearance: Mint Green, with his face being white with blue cheeks and a purple nose. He has a red shirt, and blue bell-bottoms [Winchell is from 1978, I wanted to reference that.], as well has having a blue clown hat [like Jack from Jack In The Box’s hat]. ohhhmy god hes perfect

I can’t draw for the life of me, but I will give you the inspiration for Winchell.

The 1970s version of Jack from Jack In The Box [who is my icon]: He’s a really underrated mascot [I’m a 2000s kid, but I like to research vintage things], and he was voiced by none other then Paul Winchell [Tigger from Winnie The Pooh], who’s name is also the inspiration for Winchell. There are two animated commercials and three comic with records [How a House Makes Noise, Where Oil Comes From, and How Pain Helps Us], starring 70s Jack and his crew on Youtube if you’re interested [also to help get a bit of a feel for Winchell, as Winchell is supposed to have many of the same personality traits as 70’s Jack].

Personality-wise: Winchell is very similar to 70’s Jack, just a bit clumsier and slightly snarkier. He’s also prone to being protective of everyone he’s close to [such as the player], and will do anything for them, but he does have his limits. Winchell will not tolerate mean people or rudeness [Billy Bluebird was made as a snarky and rude character to be a foil to Winchell’s kindness].

final thoughts:

you had me at “wolf-clown.” fucking brilliant. a few kinks here and there but its not terrible in the slightest. ohhh my god. i love winchell

#Review #submission #mod mangle

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owlsoldwritingcorner · 4 years

Text

Honey and Oats (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Agent Whisky x Reader

Warnings/Troupes: Not much rn except Age gap relationship for future. + Enemies to lovers. Two cowboys cant flirt for shit.

A/N: This is a bit shorter cus the next one is gonna be a bit spicy, so i wanted to give more room for that chapter!

Summary: “Mucous membrane.” Eggsy’s face scrunched up at the first thought that came to mind as he looked at the two of you.

“That’s like up the nose, isn’t it?”

“What the fuck am I gonna to do? Stick my finger up…”

“It’s not just inside the nose, is it?”

AO3 Link

{First/Previous} {Next} {Masterlist}

And then there were two.

Eggsy had to say goodbye to his girlfriend and get the tickets from his contact first before the three of you could hit the road. And because that damn cowboy refused to take literally any other vehicle, you were stuck in the trunk like a sack of potatoes. If you fell off the car, it’s your fault for not holdin’ on.

The stretch of silence was long and awkward between you two. You didn’t bother saying a single word to the man. Why would you? Boring holes in the back of his head with your stare was much more preferable.

Just as the silence was starting to become insufferable, Whiskey honked his horn to tell Eggsy to hurry the fuck up already. Another second and there won’t be any more Statesman agents on the job. Soon after, Eggsy finally came back out. Three passes right on hand.

“Got the passes from my contact. You’ll love Glastonbury.”

“Well that’s the easy part kid. Take a look in the glove box.” The younger agent opened the compartment to reveal the chip. And here comes the jokes about the finger condom.

“Fucking hell, bruv. Thought everything was supposed to be bigger in America?” Eggsy looked at you both with an amused expression. “Is that why you overcompensate with these massive cars?”

“Well, Whiskey’s dick is the exception to that sayin--”

“Shut your trap, Rum. It goes on your finger,” Whiskey sticks out an index finger to emphasize his point. “The surveillance tracker is on the tip. Apply light pressure for three seconds to release it,” The cowboy then shoves his said index finger in your face.

“And you. What do you have against Jack jr.?” Before you could say another snarky comeback, Whiskey snapped his fingers and shoved the index in your face again. “You wanna ride ole Whiskey horse don’t ‘cha? Young girls like you always got trouble articulatin’ whatcha’ want.” The whole time, he just kept waving that damn finger in your face! Just right when you were about to chomp it right off, he pulled it quicker than any man’s pull out game.

“Not fallin’ for that one again.” He placed his hands on the wheel, looking at you via the rear view mirror with a triumphant smile as if he’s got you all figured out.

Okay.

You had to admit. Whiskey looked really fucking good for his age. You’ll never say it to his face though. It’d be both a hit to your pride and a major boost to his ego. Any bigger and the old man’s gonna pop. But really? It’s just too fucking bad that all that eyecandy ain’t got a good center to match!

“Now, just admit that all this pent up frustration, is cuz you’re into ‘old man’ Whiskey here?”

“In yer fuckin’ dreams.”

“You’re right. You’re less of a god damn brat in them.” He muttered as he turned the key to start the car’s engine.

Ugh. He always acts all cool and oh-so suave as if his back isn’t ready to break the moment he picks something up from off the--

Wait a fucking second.

“Whiskey, did you just-- Oh fuck!” Just as you moved closer to the drivers and passenger’s seat, you were knocked right on your ass. The familiar damn chuckle coming from the driver’s seat. That fuckin’ hillbilly practically kicked the fucking gas pedal just to laugh at your pain!

“You should really hold on kid. There ain’t no seatbelts back there.”

“And whose choice do you think it was to ride this fuckin’ car?! Achhkuot sbanh!”

“Getting the Cambodian out on me already? I’m flattered, querida.”

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

During the whole trip, Whiskey’s words echoed through your mind.

You’re right. You’re less of a god damn brat in them.

Did… Did he mean for it to sound that way? Like, did he ever actually… Have those kinda dreams starring you?

You tried to mentally wave it off as him just trying to shut you up, but his fucking voice kept popping up in your head.

You’re less of a god damn brat in them.

That buttery smooth, low voice of his accompanying those words. You couldn’t help but overthink what he said.

Sure his glances are a bit longer than what’s considered a normal glance, but that doesn’t mean anything!, and when he gives you a pat on the back after and whenever you’re up in his face, he licks those fuckin’ kissable lips of his like he’s thinking of something he shouldn’t--

Wait.

Did you say kissable?

You meant to say punchable. That cowboy’s face is just… The most murderable, most stabbable, most lickable--

Goddamn it!

What the fuck’s gotten into you?! The guy admits to having, for all you know, one fuckin’ sex dream about you and you’re just readdy to turn to putty in his hands?

Just as the three of you arrived at the concert, you jumped out of the back of the trunk and quickly headed into one of the porta potties. Eggsy looked mighty confused at your disappearing figure as he got out the car.

“Do they know the concert is this way?”

“Well, considering this is a special kinda mission, I’d just say she’s dolling herself up.”

“Why? The target is straight, so it’s just going to be the two of us doing the work.”

“Yeah. But, she really hates it when she ain’t got nothin’ to do on the job.”

Eggsy just shot him a confused look until he saw you come back out from the porta potty. Then everything just clicked into place like a puzzle.

Instead of your previous much cuter looking appearance. You were (admittedly) quite handsome after your change of clothes and other fixings. You wore more masculine looking clothes, cleaned up a bit, and you--

Oh.

You did an extra step.

The three of you showed your bands to the bouncers and waltzed right in.

“According to her Instagram feed, Charlie’s ex-girlfriend is up at the VIP bar. Which one of us is gonna plant the tracker?”

“I say we both make an approach. Whoever gets it on best, goes for it.” You rolled your eyes at the suggestion. Getting a girl in bed really shouldn’t be played like a game.

“Well, it doesn’t have to be a competition, bruv. Why don’t we just go up to her-- shake her hand, pat her on the back, whatever, you know, Job done.”

“Well, as nice and easy that would be, Eggsy. Last I checked, our hands aren't a mucous membrane.” You sighed.

“Neither is the back. They teach you anything at Kingsman?” Whiskey added with an incredulous tone to his voice.

“What are you talking about?”

“Our trackers are designed to enter the bloodstream.” The agent put up his middle and index fingers and made an… Injection motion.

“If the trackers were attached on the back or something, that’d risk getting damaged in case the target decides to do the ole’ late night tumble.” You added.

“They circulate harmlessly, providing full audio and GPS.”

“Mucous membrane.” Eggsy’s face scrunched up at the first thought that came to mind as he looked at the two of you. “That’s like up the nose, isn’t it?” The three of you stop a few feet behind the target.

“What the fuck am I gonna to do? Stick my finger up…” Eggsy paused once he stuck up his finger, similar motion Whiskey did prior. His face contorting into realization as to where else the tracker can be placed.

“It’s not just inside the nose, is it?”

“No, Eggsy, it ain’t.” The oldest agent let out an exasperated sigh as the British man let out a just as annoyed ‘fuck’.

“All right, I’ll take the first crack.”

“You sure you won’t croak in the middle of it?” Whiskey finally popped his lid on that final quip from you.

“Know what? Since you’re so sure of yourself, you get first go.” You raised your hands in faux defeat as you walked backwards towards the target. You heard Eggsy give you a little ‘good luck’.

“My pleasure.” You quickly turned around and placed your elbows on the bar top beside the woman.

“I am so sorry to bother you little missie, but I just have to say you are the most ethereal being I have ever seen in my life.”

“Oh? Is that so?” You’ve gotten her attention at least, she’s skeptical but it’s a start.

“Course! Out of all these stars playin’ today, you seem to be the one outshining them all.”

“You should get better glasses then, it’s only daytime.”

“Are you suggesting the view is even better at night?” You mentally winched at that one. Yeah… Not your best hit.

“Nope,” She popped the ‘p’ before taking a quick sip of her drink. “I am saying that you are clearly blind. You’ve been looking at the sun for too long.” She then turned her head, all ready to ignore you. You rolled your eyes and looked at Whiskey, who looked more than ready to be tagged in, and signaled for him to come over by moving over to give him some space.

Whiskey practically had a pop in his step as he waltzed over to take your place.

He can finally rub a victory in your fucking face! You won’t steal anymore of his targets from him in the future! Take that you sexually confusing minx!

Wait that came out wrong--

“Now, I don’t wanna pester you…” Quickly distracting himself from the confusing thoughts, he got to working his charm.The woman turned her face to the new voice trying to get her attention. “But, I just had to know, what time are you playin’?” She let out an awkward chuckle. Whilst Whiskey kept her busy, you ordered yourself a Blue Long Island cocktail and not so discreetly listened in on their conversation.

“I’m not in a band-- Oh god, who did you think I was? Please don’t say someone ghastly.” she hid her face in embarrassment at the thought. Great, you can see Whiskey’s dumb smirk loom over you now.

“God damn it, now I feel like a fool.” He got a bit closer to the blond and you shivered at the husky tone his voice switched to.

He was supposed to be seducing her, not you! Get your head out of the fuckin clouds!

“I just assumed a woman with your charisma… Well, she just had to be somebody.”

Well… He tripped the landing a bit.

“Right. Thank you.”

“No, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to make me feel like a dumbass. So I’ll let you make it up to me by letting me buy you a drink,” Wow, gettin’ a teensy bit aggressive there Whiskey. The blond then rolled her eyes as she stuck up an index finger.

“Follow my finger.” Oh boy. She then swiped her finger to her left twice as Whiskey followed, confused. Wait, was that--

“What are we doin’?”

“Swiping to the left,” You almost let out an unattractive snort. She indeed did what you thought she did. “What, you don’t do Tinder in America?”

“Tinder what?” Whiskey still had a dumb smile on and was as confused as a bat during the daytime. God, he seriously is an old man.

“You know what? I think it’s a generational thing,” Eggsy smoothly cut in and leaned against the bar on the woman’s other side. Oh just in time!

You were just about to leave from the painful cringing you felt from both Old man Whiskey and little miss Tinder over here.

“It translates as,’Go away, old man’.”

Whiskey paused just before uttering ‘Be good, be cool’. Yup. You could see the biggest hit to his pride on his face yet as he walked off to a sitting bar at this outdoor concert. He just looked so pathetic and sulky you just needed to do something to fix that. Without realizing, you were already right behind the man and Champ’s words echoed in your head.

“One job together ain’t gonna kill the two of you.”

You mentally wince at what you were about to do for the rest of the day.

You gave the sad man a firm pat on the back, he turned around with hope in his eyes only for that to be extinguished when he saw you.

“C’mon Weepin’ Willow, I’ll play bartender.”

Taglist: @mxndoscyarika, @engineeredfiction

#Honey and Oats #agent whiskey #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey x reader #x reader #Pedro Characters #my writing

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thesunflowerinyoureyes · 5 years

Text

Memories Chapter 1 - Tommy Shelby

A/N: Well I do hope that you will enjoy this series. I hope I can update a lot and hope it’ll get a lot of love. This chapter will be briefly set in the modern era and will change into Tommy’s era. And if I’m inconsistent with the updates, then my kindest apologies.

Warning: Contains curse words

Ship: Thomas+Reader

“See you tomorrow, (Y/N)!” called your friend Martin while he left the Law firm, calling it a day. You gave him a small smile and a wave, ready to drown into more work to get rid of the present thoughts that were swimming through your brain. You stared outside of the window and looked at the pitch, black sky - the moon being the only light that seemed comforting at the time. You stared at the luminous light, your mind becoming clouded with the thoughts you had pushed back for the day. Is life really worth living without him? Would it make a difference if I disappeared from the surface of the Earth and never came back? Then would the lump in my throat and the weight on my chest dissolved? If- You shook your head vigorously, being afraid of your own thoughts - your own capability. Of course, life is worth living without him. You still have your family, friends, your life is still fortunate than some people in this world. But as you tried to think of positive thoughts and aspects of your life, the gloominess of your thoughts still didn't disappear. As you finished up for the night and had walked outside of the building, not only did your spirits feel high but you also had this feeling in your gut. A feeling that something is going to happen, and it doesn’t feel right. You looked up at the people walking past you, looks of content and happiness plastered on their faces. You couldn’t but think that you were the only person that was unhappy with everything with their life. You jogged your memory as you thought about how it all happened.

“But I don't want you to leaveeee” You said as you clung onto your husband’s arm. He gave you a big smile as he kissed your forehead and wriggled put of your grasp, earning a pout form you.

“You know I always come home straight to you honey. So why are you acting clingy today?” Your husband questioned you in a teasing manner which you gave a shy smile to. You knew he always came back. But ever since you woke up in the morning, you had a bad feeling rising in your gut and stomach, as if something awful was going to take place.

“Don’t worry too much and enjoy your day off hm?” He said in his soft, smooth voice as he headed for the door. You couldn’t but run up and give him a back hug, earning a chuckle from him.

“I love you” Was all you said as he opened the door, ready to leave for work.

“I love you too (Y/N)” was his response as you let go and watched him work out the door, and later on, out of your life.

You checked the clock and it was 5:30pm. He should home by now. Like an instinct, you saw his name on your phone - calling you. You smiled to yourself and picked up the call, ready to hear his voice. But instead it was someone else.

“Is this (Y/N) Cole?” asked the person. You swallowed the lump in your throat and let out a shallow “Yes speaking”

“We’re very sorry to say that your husband Dylan Cole has passed away tragically in a car accident. We tried saving him....” You slowly moved the phone away from your ear, the person’s voice being drowned out by the blankness of your mind. Your heart hammered in your chest, your breath quickened, your hands practically shaking like you were having a seizure. You let out a dry laugh, but reality slapped you in the face again. He was never coming back.

You stopped at the zebra crossing, your face feeling cold by the crisp, night air of January. You let out a big sigh as you waited to cross the road. You were looking at the people standing next to you and smiled at the toddler. He gave you a happy smile back, making your mood lift for the first time in a long while. You carried on looking at the child until you heard a shout from behind you.

“Oh my god Joe!” Was all you heard, and you snapped your head at the woman who had a frantic look on her face towards the road. You snapped your head back towards the road as well and you saw it. A kid about age 9 or 10 had run onto to the road, running to get his ball back. The same feeling came back like a nostalgic feeling. You can’t let another one die with you knowing, (Y/N. Do it. Save him. You ran onto the road as well and like a bolt you had already picked up the child. But you didn’t see it coming. In a split second your body had felt a rather strong thing hit your body, as you felt yourself fly in the air and then land harshly onto the ground. You couldn’t even let out a scream as the world had started to spin, your head feeling light and an excruciating pain overwhelming your body, as if someone had stabbed you all over your body. You felt the oxygen leave your body, your once rapid breathing becoming slower and slower. The loud sound of an ambulance was the last thing your brain could process, as your eyelids felt heavier - droopier. You finally let yourself close your eyes, allowing the darkness to consume you. You saw your life flash right before your vision. From the minute you were playing cricket with your brother from the minute your parents buying you your journal for your 13th Birthday. You saw your first kissed from the day you had finally graduated Uni with a Law Degree, seeing your parents smiling proudly at you. From the day you saw your best friend die right in front of your eyes, from the day you had married the love of your life. From the day of your husband’s funeral up until this moment. Everything in your life added up to this moment in time. It was fix. You saw the last vision of the boy running to get his ball until all you saw was darkness and your mind had turned off...

“I swear to god Tommy I watched her hand move man!” Huh? Where the fuck am I? Your eyes felt like they had been shut forever, as your groggily opened your eyes and saw a blaring light. Is this heaven? It doesn’t look like hell. You closed your eyes again while scrunching your nose as well attempting to-

“Dear Lord, she’s awake Tommy! (Y/N)?” Said unfamiliar voice. This time you opened your eyes and your vison became clear. A woman who looked like she was in her mid-forties stared at your face, worry written all over it.

“Who are you? Where am I?” You asked in a hoarse voice, watching the lady’s face crumple right in front of you.

“You mean you don’t know who I am?” This time you managed to realise she had a rather strong Birmingham accent - something that you didn’t possess.

“No, I don’t, accept from the fact that you have an accent far from where I come from.” Ouch. That sounded a bit better in my head. You looked away from the lady and looked at the man. He had piercing blue eyes, with a striking jaw line alongside high cheek bones. He’s handsome but who the hell is he? You looked away from his glaring stare and instead took in your surroundings. The walls were eerily white and had rows of beds next to each other. Hospitals don’t look like this anymore. That’s when it hit you. You looked back at the man who was now smoking a cigarette. You eyed him up and down and then it hit you. He was wearing...Edwardian style. Almost. His grey cap was something you had only seen once in your life and that was when your brother had a play on Oliver Twist. You sat straight up in bed but immediately regretting it. A jolt of pain swarm right through your body as you let out a small whimper.

“Don’t do that, (Y/N), darling you had a nasty accident” The unfamiliar lady spoke as she pushed your shoulder lightly, pushing you back onto the bed. Accident? Oh, shit I did have an accident. There was a little boy who had made a run for his ball...and then I think I got hit by a car? Bus? I don’t fucking know.

“That boy...Is he alright?” You spoke your own thoughts watching the lady tear up slightly. And why the hell does she look like that she’s going to cry me a river?

“Finn’s doing fine (Y/N) because of you.” Finally, the blue-eyed man spoke up, throwing his finished cigarette to the floor.

“Oh okay. When is my family coming to visit me?” You asked looking up at the man only to see him wearing the most confused face ever.

“Your family died a long time ago (Y/N). Do you seriously not remember anything?” What? No, they’re not. They’re probably more alive than I’ll ever be. How long is this dream going to last for? Is this even a dream?

“What’s the date today?” Was all you managed out, mentally pulling yourself away from your thoughts.

“March 20th,1919. It’s your birthday in 3 days.” What in the actual fuck? He can’t be serious. This has got to be some stupid joke Martin’s playing on you.

“Is this some joke? Who put you up to this?” You asked in disgust, not in the mood for jokes. His face wore no look and he silently walked away, out of the door. 1919 my arse bruv.

“They said we could take you home today (Y/N). You just need to get bed rest at home” Said the woman in a happy voice, quickly grabbing your hand as if you were going to disappear from her.

“But I don’t live in Brum. I live in South England. How did I end up here?” You spoke to her in a nicer tone this time, wrapping your fingers around her hand gently.

“Yeah you did live in the Southern part of England. But when you 23 you came up North to Birmingham to start a new life.” Well bloody hell. She looks serious as hell. So you get knocked up by a car and now you’re living in the 20th century. Well done (Y/N)

“Who was that blue-eyed man?” You questioned her curiously, your mind wandering back to the strange, attractive man.

“Oh, (Y/N) you probably don’t know who I am as well then. I’m Polly, Tommy’s aunt. That blue-eyed man is Thomas and he’s your...well” She trailed off looking at the hands wrapped together.

“He’s what?” You asked her bluntly and she gave you an unsure look.

“He’s-”

“(Y/N) so glad to see you’ve woken up” said a man who wore a long white robe, a stethoscope hanging around his neck. The blue-eyed man name Tommy walked right behind him, making intense eye contact with you. You felt a shiver run down your spine and broke off the eye contact, maintaining your focus on the Doctor.

“Why are you saying my name so casually?” You earned a snicker from Tommy but when you looked up at him, his smirk dropped - his stone cold face returning upon his features once again.

“It’s because you’re my colleague honey. Now open your mouth.” You did as you were told while he put a thermometer in your mouth. Then he checked your heart beat if it was beating normally.

“Well (Y/N) you seem to be fine. You just seem to be suffering from amnesia that’s all. I’ll discharge you today Hun” He concluded while writing down his notes.

“Is it long term or short term?” I asked, anxiety bubbling. Please say it’s none and it’s all just a dream

“I’m not sure. You might have to come back and take a lot of medicine” He said giving you a smile, which you returned. He walked out of the room and you were left with Tommy and Polly once again.

“Come on (Y/N) I’ll bring you your clothes so you can get changed into them.” Polly said kindly as she gave this look to Thomas, which you couldn’t distinguish the meaning of. You watched her disappear out the room and you felt an uncomfortable silence over take the both of you. If he keeps on looking at me in a weird way, then why the hell is he here?

“Do you hate me?” You enquired, out of the blue, as you looked at his face. He only gave you a shake of the head as he pulled out a cigarette pack. He offered you one which you replied “Sorry I don’t smoke.” You watched him scoff and put the cigarette in his mouth.

“You get hit by a car once and now you don’t smoke? I think tomorrow the grass will be blue.” He said, in a way which he found amusing.

“I’m sorry but what’s our relationship together? Are we related, like cousins?” You asked and this time you saw his stone cold face smile. Well, at least you made him smile.

“Is that the best you can come up with? Fucking cousins?”

You looked at with wide eyes, taking aback with his comment. Calm down mate it’s not actually real.

“Do you actually want to know what our relationship is?” He questioned raising his eyebrow at you. You nodded your head vigorously like a little child, earning another smirk from him. He took one last puff from the cigarette and put it out. He came towards you and lowered his face so it was inches away from yours. You felt your heart skip beat and was about to say something when he pushed his lips onto yours, which you immediately responded to. Holy shit. This is real.

#thomasshelby #peakyblinders #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine

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noxus-the-venomous-blog · 5 years

Text

Part 2.02 KICK THE WORLD FACE

"YOU MOCK MY LAIR?!" Noxus grabbed the man by the collar. "You dare come into my place of dwelling with lll words?!"

"We're really doing this?" Big problem asked with a sigh as he watched his smaller friend building up steam to torment the man in his clutches.

"I will reach inside of your meager brain."

"Yeah now I know we're definitely doing this." BP sat down, awaiting a long monologue.

"And when I'm finish twisting and turning every spark in your meager mentality…"

"Oh come on this is often the funnest part of the day!" Tranquill said to big problem, poking him in his gorilla like shoulders.

"...and when all that's left of your brain is the shallow pleadings of a child's mind you will kiss my boot and beg for me to end your life."

"Dude I'm not even the one who gets to keep the rent money I just collect it. The management decides the when the inspection happens! They only pay me like 50 bucks a month," the young man grumbled, held tight in the rubber fists of Noxious.

“Is it worth your life?” “Fine dude we can do the inspection next week. You need to be on medication bruv,” he remarked as noxious loosened his grip on him.

“The whole world needs to be on medication…” Noxious said slowly as the man walked away. He then turned around to face his audience who was already snickering at him “That was Jeff, the supers assistant. Good kid. So let's get down to business”

“To COMPLETE! The PUN!” Tranquill shouted, smiling widely. Her joke found no success however, in a crowd where one was too old for reference and the other was too uncultured.

“Is this really the place to talk… Private? Like that dude weird girl across the road has been sitting there filming you for the past twenty minutes.” BP pointed across to the set of parallel storage containers on the other side of the lot.

“That's um…. That's my PR TEAM! FOR FILMING PROPAGANDA!”

“YO BIG GUY TAKE OFF YO PANTS!” the woman yelled.

Big Problem shot her a puzzled look. “Lets go to my place Nox. This place smells like raccoons and sadness.”

“You have a place?” Tranquill asked as she grabbed her coat.

“Yeah of course. Do you guys think i only exist in the world to help ya then when i'm done i teleport to another dimension and sit around waiting for you to need help again??” “That would be very useful” Noxious replied.

“SHAZAM!” Tranquill added.

“Well that's not my power. Although i met a guy like that, nice dude, gay as a rainbow on a unicorns butt, now can we go to my place?”

“That's homophobic” Tranquill accused.

“Im quoting the guy, besides i'm a villain, social standards are the laws i’m LEAST worried about breaking.”

“We shall ride to your lair and resume our business there,” decided Noxious, “Um…. we need a ride though.”

“Heh… I'll bring the truck around but you’re going to be a little cramped.”

The truck putted down an empty highway, bellowing black smoke out from its aged, rusted exhaust. It slipped and stumbled in momentum each time Big Problem had to jam the clutch down and shift. The old metal shifter smacking into Noxious’ leg every time the lowest or highest gear was used. Tranquil, leaned in on Noxious’ shoulders affectionately, squishing him closer to BP who already took up most of the truck.

“Ok so we can start talking now. I need to know how seriously you two take this. How focused are you?”

“I take it very seriously,” Tranquill said.

“Well now you do,” Noxious contradicted.

“Well ok sure for the first few months i was pretty sure we were larping but im totally caught up now. I share his passions for this world and this work. I agree with every word of his personal diary.”

BP raised an eyebrow. “You guys share your diaries?”

“Define shaRE-” Noxious was cut off as first gear needed to be used again.

“What you two need is money.”

“We’re not greedy though,” Tranquil rolled down the window slightly, noticing her boyfriend sweating a bit due to his awkward seat status.

“OF COURSE YOU’RE NOT! You’re poor. Greed is a rich man's game. Look you don't have to have a mansion in the hills, but no one accomplishes change in the world without money. I know a guy who works for a place. That's not me being coy that's literally how you refer to his business. Anyway, he can really make the difference for you guys. How do you currently wash your money?”

Noxious spoke up before Tranquill could make a joke, “we basically don't. But we don’t make enough to require it. We have been seeking out some form of fence for jewelry or other valuable things that are easy to sell.”

“That’s adorable. Yeah just sign up at the evil guildhall and they introduce you to ye olde jewelry fence. Look little guy...”

“I AM AVERAGE SIZE!!!”

“That's why you’re sitting in the middle then?” BP says as he rams the shifter into Nox’s leg and slows at a stop sign “Anyway, hear me out. You don't just run around town looking for random junk worth money, you’re a villain not a crackhead. You need to talk to the right people, the ones i'm going to introduce you to, and find out what they would want. Sometimes it’s an object, sometimes it’s a service. Sometimes it might be something right up your alley like gassing someone or making menacing threats.”

Tranquill chimed in, “this is what we need, he makes so many menacing threats for free currently.”

“Exactly. Now if ya find a bar of gold on the ground, or happen upon a car made of diamonds, then sure you bet your ass you take it and just give it to the guy and he’ll give you credit. But nothing compares to what you can make by finding them just what they need at a given time… Ok we’re here.”

The truck pulls up to an old iron security gate. Before them is a long driveway, weaving through clusters of lavish landscaping. He presses a button on the worn out sun visor then shuts it as the fabric nearly tears. The gate in front of them opens and he begins driving through.

“Wait… When… What…” Noxious stuttered, “ARE WE ROBBING SOMEONE RIGHT NOW?!”

“Yeah cause if we were, im wanting you to just scream about it,“ BP joked, “no this is my house, and it's nice to know you seeing it makes you want to rob it. Guess i'm doing a good job with it. Were gonna pull around back, wait, how the hell would i have a gate opener for a place i'm robbing?”

“I don't know…. Stole it ahead of time? Hacked it?” noxious knew he was digging his own grave deeper.

They pulled around to the back of the quite sizable home and into a ramp leading to a parking garage, one story below ground. This presented a stark contrast to the lush gardens they had recently passed. This basement was empty and plain, with a sofa on one wall crowded around a large tv, and a bed across the way on the adjacent wall. BP slowly pulled into a parking spot next to a luxurious looking car.

“See look at this place we have WAY more privacy to talk here. The whole place is sound proof. I'll have Alfred order a pizza and we can start talking about real business.”

“No you have to explain first,” Noxious insisted.

“Explain what?”

“EVERYTHING!”

BP leaned back on the broken tailgate of the truck “Uhhh… So in the beginning there was nothing, then BAM than mars and stars and cows and shit.”

“How about first WHO’S ALFRED?”

“The butler.”

“You have a butler named Alfred?” Tranquill giggled.

“Yeah i thought it would be funny.”

“What would be?” Noxious asked, getting dizzy at all he's had to take in.

“To name my butler Alfred.”

“WAIT YOU NAMED A BUTLER?” Tranquill protested in sheer confusion.

“You guys have a hard time staying on topic.” BP guided them over to the rather homely couch and they each took a seat. “So missy. I'm gonna ask you again. How serious are you about being a criminal.”

The tone of the room became more serious all of a sudden.

“I would follow him wherever he goes. Seriously. Even into the bathroom.”

“She’s like a cat,” added Noxious.

BP interrupted them. “You need to quit your job.”

Tranq looked at the ground for a moment. “But… My debts. I worked hard to get a job in my field.”

“And you'll never be worse off for it, you'll take those skills with you into whatever you do but do you really wanna be working an office job when the cops show up? You guys have to start living this, it ain't the kinda lifestyle someone does on the weekends. You gotta be done with the nine to five, done with the rented storage shack and done with the BS small time jobs. I want you guys to move your lair in here, i want you guys to start taking jobs with me and get yourselves a proper home. I want you guys to win on this and i'll help but if it's not what you want, what you truly desire, then you gotta walk away before someone gets hurt.”

“This is…. A lot.”

Noxious stepped forward. “My burden of fixing this world is not something i want dragged into.”

BP stood up to outmatch noxious in height if not determination. “You’re not going to get what you want without help.”

A moment went by. The two of them stood in a quiet stillness like an old western movie. The energy seemed aggressive but it felt more compassionate than that. Noxious knew that in this moment BP was not questioning his motive, but instead he's being forced to question it himself.

“I want to quit my job,” Tranquil broke the silence, “I want out of that stupid storage container. I want the neighbor girl to stop whistling when i wash the van. I WANT TO GET RID OF THE VAN! I HATE THE STUPID VAN!”

“I HATE THE VAN TOO!” Noxious matched her energy “I HATE THE STUPID SHIFTER KNOB! It has no button and my thumb sits on the side of it funny.”

“I hate my job. I hate my debt. “

“Even if the button didn't function, it should still be there.”

“I hate all of my co workers. All of them. There's not one redeemable thought made in that building all day. I hate work i hate school and i hate everyone. That’s why i'm here. I want to wreck this world not just live in it.”

“THIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT! LET'S KICK THE WORLD IN THE FACE!” BP grabbed a beer.

Noxious moved his hand in a ‘kinda’ gesture. “I'm more on the fixing it side… With gas.”

“YEAH let's tear down society!!!” Tranquill exclaimed.

“I'm like… Chaotic good if anything.”

“LET'S KICK LIFE IN THE BABY MAKER AND MAKE OUR OWN WAY!!!”

Noxious looked at both of them. “Screw it, burn the world down” he said as he reached down for a beer for him and Tranquill. They all clanked cans, BP and Tranq opened and chugged their beers. Noxious paused for a moment, then opened his beer, pulled up his mask and met their pace.

-----------------------supersecretspecialdeletedpatreonexclusivelike&subscribeOVENDING

“He was choking me man. He threatened me!”

“Who?”

“The little gas mask guy. The one from space 25.”

“Oh him. Leave em alone he just talks that way.”

“BUT HE THREATENED TO GAS ME!!”

“Out of everyone in this whole park he's the only one who visits my mom. No clue how they met but she loves the little guy. He's got a big heart. Since he's been around her depression is unnoticeable. She's baking more, laughing more. Seeing her happy and tasting her food again has lifted my spirits too. Leave him be, he makes people happy.”

#original content #original character #original fiction #original story #Noxus

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prodwonsol · 6 years

Text

lucas as that dude in your physical science class

a bullet oneshot

(that you’ll eventually fall in love with oops)

okay here we go

you’re a senior in high school

and physical science happens to be one of your favorite subjects

because you love chemistry and physics so much

so yes

in the midst of the 1st semester

a new student comes in your school

people talked about him and you heard that he was chinese and thai

and really tall, they said

wELL THEY DIDN’t mEntion handsome as fuck did thEy

so there was an empty seat beside you for the whole school year

and you didn’t know that the newcomer was gonna be in your class

so you saw someone take the seat beside you

and ok you’re like “holy shit r u rly gonna sit beside me— you should sit at the back or else the people will complain”

but it’s like someone will offer their seats to the newcomer

jk they probably would

but that newcomer decided to stay there

“hi im yukhei— but call me lucas”

he told you as he offered his hand

you were just as starstruck as a starstruck

what am i saying—

it took you like 2 minutes seconds to reply and shook his hand

“i’m Y/N” with a smile lucas thought was adorable

so ok classes have started

and the girls in your class couldn’t help but sneak glances on lucas

he’s THAT handsome

while they stare, you rolled your eyes to yourself

thinking that he’s not that special

but you kinda thought to yourself that yeah he’s cute

so hehe

the first semester is almost gonna end

in a short summary,

lucas kinda slept all the time in physical science classes

mainly because he was more of a history or social science type of person

so finals are coming up for the first semester

and while you were fixing your locker

someone tapped your shoulder

and you turned around & it was wong yukhei the newcomer

he smiles sweetly at you and hands you a chocolate bar—

“hi,,,, i’m giving you this because i’m gonna ask for a small favour—“

“i’m gonna send my notes to you dw”

and he was like no bruv

“no— i mean, i wanted you to teach me, only if you want; i won’t force you.”

and with your love for physical science

you’re known as someone cold and someone who’s probably gonna fite you if they try to outsmart you which they can’t

but you saw him sleep all day in classes

so you know how he really wasn’t copying notes

so your inner warm heart melted in sympathy

so you agreed on tutoring him for your finals

ff to the tutoring day (which was a friday night)

before friday night, lucas gave you his number

because you’ll be tutoring him in his house

since the library “makes him sleepy”

he’s always sleeping, you reckon

so okay you texted him that you were on his porch now

he opens the door and you took in his appearance

he was just wearing his white shit shirt i mean, and grey sweats

wait— his hair looks wet

“sorry it took long; i was showering”

you didn’t mind waiting bc his house looked so beautiful outside

and well, inside, too

not to mention the owner of the ho—

okay where were we

you two started to put your things for school in the living room’s coffee table

yes you guys will not be studying in his room

it was your idea

okay so

y’all started on chemistry

and throughout the tutor study session,

lucas couldn’t stop staring at you

which means he wasn’t listening all along

and you didn’t notice it until you asked him a question:

“lucas i don’t remember this question: was this a covalent bond or a noncovalent bond?”

and without thinking he said “yes”

so you looked at him in confusion

only to see that he was staring at you before you did

i shit you not your face was like “october revolution 1917 russia”

what i meant was red october

okAY SO

you didn’t realize that you didn’t avert your gaze somewhere else

bc dude why does his lips look so soft today

you took in his appearance unconsciously

and then you were snapped outta your thoughts when lucas’ lips moved

“can i kiss you?”

your eyes widened bc like wat bitch

but you were so mesmerized with his beauty so you just

nodded your head like yeah sure bro i was staring at ur lips all along im glad u took the hint

im kidding

so he leaned in and softly kisses you

the kiss was kinda short, i mean the position was weird

but after that “study session” he asked you out and asked if you were available on saturdays

and hell yeah (then that was were you started falling in love with the transferee

who lied that he’d want to get tutored when infact he just wanted to hang out with you)

physical science who

296 notes · View notes

mellicose · 6 years

Text

That Woman Over There - Epilogue

A You Me and Him Fix-it Fic

Rating: PG-13, for some bad language

Word count: 5140

Warnings: none

Summary: ~ Set after the birth of Monty, Olivia’s baby ~ A dear friend of Olivia comes to visit for a week, and she disturbs the fragile peace between her, Alex, and John.

Read last chapter | Start from the beginning

Four Years Later Five kilometers from Ballantrae, Scotland, UK

“Alright, chief, you know the drill,” Alex said over her shoulder as she fiddled with the sticky gearshift. “God damn-” her mouth snapped shut. “Renting in Scotland. What was I thinking?” she said. The ancient motor hicupped, then they rushed forward.

“The drill?” her son said, rolling the r in his mild French accent.

“John decided to build his house right by a bloody cliff, so-”

“A cliff! A cliff! Is there a beach?” he said, throwing his action figure aside. The boy loved the water. He wiggled in his booster chair.

“Of course, sweetie, but you do realize it’s September?” Alex said, looking at him in the rearview. “The water’s very cold. Brrrr.” She shivered.

“I can have a hot bain afterward,” he said.

“We’ll see,” she said. The little car struggled to get up the hill road. She floored the gas pedal and prayed as they inched to the top, and they both gasped together as they saw the newly completed home, set off by the endless blue of the Clyde Waters.

“It’s bloody huge!” she said to her son as she turned into their driveway, which curved up to the hill where the house stood. Beside it, nearer to the ocean, was a large barn – his workshop.

“Look, mama!” he said, pointing to the barn.

“What color is it?” Alex said.

“Rouge. Red!” he said, and clapped his hands. “Are there cows in it?”

“I don’t think so,” Alex said. “That’s were Uncle John makes his art.”

“Oui. His tables and his chairs and his cabi … cabi …”

“His cabinets,” Alex said, and reached back to caress his fat cheek. “He gets a lot of money for his cabinets.”

“And that’s good?” he said. His chubby fingers wriggled over the seatbelt button.

“For him, yes. When I stop the car, you are going to stay exactly where you are, you hear?” she said. She didn’t know whether the cliff was fenced, and her boy was a fast runner.

“Yes, mam,” she said, and gave her a twinkly grin. She squinted at the cars parked in the driveway by the house. There was Connie’s blue SUV, John’s little sports car, and a Beamer. Her heart beat faster as she pulled up. A lot of people had red Beamers. Not only her. And she might’ve changed her car years ago…

“Auntie Alex!” John said, running up with open arms. Right behind him, two little girls ran up, with flapping coats and flowered galoshes. One of them had brown curls and round hazel eyes, and the other had flaming auburn hair and bright blue eyes.

“Auntie Alex!” they echoed, and hugged her legs.

“Hello, you!” she said, and hugged and kissed John, then the girls. They looked into the open car door and screamed again when they saw her son.

“Come inside. There’s cake!” Lily said. Her son undid the seat belt and wriggled out of the car.

“Whoa there!” she said, taking his hand.

”It’s perfectly safe. There’s a fence,” John said. Alex kissed him and let go, and they ran into the house to announce her arrival.

She looked up at him and giggled. “Fuck a duck, you’ve gone full L.L. Bean mountain man,” she said, referring to his full beard. He wore a soft gray beanie at a jaunty angle on his head.

“What’s L.L. Bean? Sounds tasty.” He winked, then rubbed his beard. “It helps me fit in with the locals.” He straightened up and narrowed his eyes as he looked toward the water. “Do I look local?” he said, nudging her.

“Sure,” said. “Very.”

He turned to her with his usual puppy dog enthusiasm. “D’you like it?”

“It’s big,” she said, looking up at the second-story gingerbread eaves, then to the wraparound veranda. An empty porch swing swung in the cool ocean breeze.

“It’s all me. Once I got to the planning stage, I kept adding elements. It drove Connie crazy, since she wanted it to be done already,” he said with a widening grin. “You’re gonna shit a brick.”

“Why?” she said. Again, her heart rushed. The girls came back out, with another boy in tow. Just as soon as he saw her, he brightened and ran faster.

“Monty!?” Alex said as the boy slammed into her and hugged her.

“Alex!” he said, and petted her slick blonde bob. “Pretty.”

“Thanks, love,” she said, taking his face into her trembling hands. His blue eyes were almost violet in the bright afternoon light, and his face was losing its baby chubbiness.

“How old are you now?” she said.

“I’m five,” he said, holding up his hand. “I’m in proper school, not baby school anymore,” he said, nodding proudly.

“Is that so?” Alex said. She couldn’t say much more. She didn’t come prepared to see Olivia. But she was a bit ... excited.

John patted Monty’s curly head. “Keep an eye on the cake. You know the girls are dying to get into it,” he said. Monty saluted and ran away.

“Why didn’t you tell me, man?” she said, looking down at her rumpled coat. She checked her makeup in the sideview mirror.

“It was a surprise to me,” he said, popping the trunk to get her bags. “I came back from getting lumber, and here they were, big as life sitting at our kitchen table.”

“How long has she been here?” she asked.

“A few hours,” he said. “She’s staying for a while, though.” Again, he gave her that mysterious grin.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Alex said. “You look like a cat that swallowed the canary.”

“You’ll see,” he said, and walked toward the house. She didn’t move, and he stopped. “Come on. It’ll be painless, I swear.”

The house was deliciously warm, and smelled of food cooking.

“Wow, mate, you outdid yourself,” she said in awe as she peeled off her coat. The floors gleamed a warm purple, and most of the furniture had his signature touch. “It’s like, a show house or something.” She kicked off her galoshes and touched the white pine entryway cabinet. “Where’s Connie?”

“In the kitchen, honey!” Connie yelled. “Dinner’s almost ready!”

Alex ran toward her voice, then nearly slid on her ass when she saw her.

“Surprise,” Connie said. She was … huge with child. Enormous. Rampant.

“John, you dog!” she said, and gave Connie a hug. “Oh my God, how? When?” She held Connie’s belly in both hands.

“You know how,” she said, and winked at her. “And we got the surprise of our lives about 37 weeks ago.”

John ran in behind Connie and gave her a loud, smacking kiss on her neck. He rubbed her belly and knelt to talk to it.

“How’s the weather in there, buddy? Staying warm?”

“Nooo,” Connie said, but she didn’t push him away. She put her hands on her hips and closed her eyes.

“Watch,” John said with glee, and lifted Connie’s shirt. He kissed her belly, which was stretched shiny. “How’s my sweet little boy? Say hello, son.” Connie sucked in breath as life stirred in her belly. First, perhaps a knee, but then, almost too clearly, a tiny hand.

“Fuck, that was a bloody hand!” she said, pressing her hand over her own flat belly. Her son had been active when he was in the womb, but she’d never seen his hand. “It’s a boy! Congratulations, bruv!” She patted John’s shoulder.

“He’ll be a handful, if he’s anything like his father,” a familiar voice said from the threshold. Olivia walked into the kitchen.

Alex stared. Her usually fluffy blonde hair was at least three shades darker, and up in a carefree ponytail. She was as slim as she ever was, but she gave off a different vibe. Warmer. More inviting. She walked with a confidence she didn’t have before, either. Her eyes, which normally avoided contact, now sought it. She was breathtaking.

“How are you?” she said.

“Well,” she said, smiling broadly.

“And your work with the old folks?” Alex said.

“That didn’t pan out, obviously,” Liv said, opening the oven to check on the roast, since Connie couldn’t bend anymore.

“Oh,” she said. Liv checked on a bubbling pot.

“No worries though. I found my calling,” Liv said. “I thought I was meant to help people at the last stages of their life. Turns out I’m meant to help mums and little ones through the first.”

“So, you’re a….” Alex said. The situation began to make sense.

“I’m a midwife,” she said with an uncharacteristic giggle. “Not quite an obstetrician, but I do some of the same things.”

“Wow,” Alex said, putting her hand over her mouth.

“After my experience with Monty, I wondered whether there could be something better. A practitioner who was both knowledgeable, and warm.”

“Like, not a weirdo like my old OB?” Alex said, laughing.

“Yeah, something like that,” Liv said. “Had I known about midwives then, things might’ve gone another way.” She looked at Alex. “You look different.”

“D’you like it? It’s my New York artist look,” she said, stroking her platinum bob.

“What about the colors?” Liv said.

Alex sat down. “Everyone over there has colors, and too many piercings and tattoos to count. It’s not edgy anymore to have pink hair or ink,” she said, shrugging. “Normies in the art world? Hella edgy.”

“Normies?” Liv said, sitting across from her.

“You know. Not doing the multicolored pincushion thing,” she said.

“Do you miss it?” Liv said.

“Not really,” Alex said. “I get paid to draw pretty things for large companies. I’m very happy as I am.”

“How is that?” Liv said. She never imagined Alex could settle enough to finish a degree, much less become a graphic designer for one of the most respected firms on the East Coast.

“It’s stressful, but in a good way. My boss isn’t a cow, and she’s really open-minded,” she said, biting her lip. “The pay’s great. I can actually afford to live in Manhattan. Alphie might’ve had a hand in that.” He knew anyone and everyone, it seemed. And slept with half of them.

“How is he?” Liv said.

“Good, I guess. Still haunting his gallery for fresh meat in London,” she said. “He’s a brilliant father, though. Ollie adores him.”

Liv tipped her head. “Is that his name? Ollie?”

Color rose to her cheeks. “Yeah. He’s a junior, but his middle name is Oliver.”

“It’s a good name, Oliver,” Liv said, and wiggled her brow. Alex looked around. She didn’t notice that John and Connie had slipped away quietly.

“So, you’re here for the birth,” Alex said.

“Yes,” Liv said. And perhaps a little longer, to help.”

“That’s amazing,” Alex said, shaking her head. “Olivia the midwife. Do you miss practicing law?”

Olivia’s eyes widened. “Not at all. I was a bitter, miserable cow. I don’t even like to think about it,” she said.

“You were alright,” Alex said. “But you look so much happier now. How’s Maude?”

“Maude,” she said, and sucked her teeth. “That’s not happening anymore.”

“Oh no,” Alex said sincerely.

“She’s a lovely woman, but, um, she’s one of those kind of lesbians that prefer the quiet life,” she said.

“Eh?” Alex said.

“She doesn’t like children,” she said.

“I see,” Alex said. “That’s interesting.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know that when we started dating, but since I was at mum’s, we could go and do things all the time without Monty. Mum loves looking after him. But when I moved out and it was Monty and I, she began to show her true colors.”

“Damn,” Alex said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Liv said, and shrugged. “It was a strangely easy breakup. I don’t even remember crying.”

“Lucky you,” Alex said. When she found out Alphie was cheating, she was inconsolable for weeks. It was a horrible rough patch that nearly made her drop out of school, but John and Connie helped her through it.

“I’m sorry about Alphonse,” Liv said, reaching across the table to squeeze her hands. “John told me it wasn’t easy, but not much else. Out of respect.”

Alex shook her head. “You live, you learn,” she said. “I was a bit foolish then. Impulsive.”

“You talk as if you’re heavy with years now,” Liv said. “You’re still young. In any case, we all do foolish things when we’re young and stupid, like go to law school, or wear paisley unironically.”

Alex giggled. “You seeing anyone now?” she said. Liv smiled. Al was a bit wiser, but she hadn’t lost her boldness.

“Nope. I’ve been too busy. Everyone’s having babies, like, all the time,” she said.

“Me neither,” she said. “It’s a bit obnoxious over there. I completely get what Connie was talking about. Makes my fud slam shut just to think about it.”

Liv hooted. “Your mouth,” she said, laughing. “I’d forgotten.”

“What? It’s the truth. It’s bizarre. There are loads of well-kept, pretentious twats everywhere, yet I’m dry as the goddamned Kalahari,” she said. “What’s worse? Only ten percent of ‘em can draw worth a damn. It’s mostly rich kids looking for an identity. It’s kind of sad.”

“Poor rich art kids,” Liv said.

“Connie may have grown up with a silver spoon in her mouth, but she’s nothin’ like ‘em. No wonder she was mad to get away,” she said.

“She’s the best,” Liv said.

“She is,” Alex said. When her and Alphonse broke up, Connie flew to the States to take care of her. She laid beside her on many nights, dried her tears, and helped her take care of Ollie. To her own surprise, she ended up leaning more on her than on John. “Connie sort of … changed my life.”

“She’s weird like that,” John said, and walked to the fob. “Is the roast done? I’m bloody starving.”

“Where’s Connie?” Liv asked.

“I helped her onto the porch swing,” he said. “Oh! I came in here for some juice,” he said, and went into the refrigerator. “My bride thirsts.”

“I’ll take it out to her,” Liv said, and stood up. She turned back to Alex. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Alex said. “Glad you’re here, I mean.” She blushed.

Liv walked out, and John squeezed her shoulders.

“So what d’you reckon, huh?” he said excitedly. He looked out the window at Connie and the kids.

“You’ve outdone yourself, mate,” she said, shaking her head. “I thought she couldn’t have any more children after Lily.”

“Me too,” he said. “That’s what the doctor said. She had to go on hormone treatments to conceive,” he whispered. “They did a number on her, messed with her moods and her health, but we had Lily.”

“Then how did that happen?” Liv said, holding her hands over her belly.

“It was Liv,” he said. “She said that Connie’s particular issues had a more holistic solution,” he said, holding his hands up in air quotes. “I thought it was a bit mad – after everything she went through, how could her hormone imbalance be fixed with diet and vitamins and things? But it bloody worked.” He slapped the counter.

“Is that why she’s here? To make sure it took?” she said, looking at John. He hugged her tight.

“She was here earlier for that,” he said into her hair. “But we’re out of the danger zone, damn it. Manny’s healthy and nearly busting out of Connie’s belly.”

“Manny? Interesting name,” she said.

“Technically, it’s John Manuel.”

“So he’s gonna be a junior too?” Alex said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Manuel is her dad’s name, and two Johns will get confusing, so … Manny.”

“I’m so happy for you,” she said, and hugged him tighter. “You two have a sweet set up here. Oh,” she said, looking up at him, “How’s business?”

“Booming!” he said. “Between Connie’s connections and Alphie’s, I’m backlogged for two years. Did you see the barn?”

“Yeah. It’s really red,” she said. “And I don’t think it’s just connections. You’re bloody talented.”

John smiled. “It’s too small,” he said. “I’m going to have to build another one. And I had to hire four apprentices to help me. I’m interviewing for three more.”

“Excuse the hell out of me,” Alex said.

“I know,” he said, wriggling.

“You’re such a dork,” she said.

“I’m really happy, Al,” he said, and sat up on the counter. “To be honest, I sometimes pinch myself. It’s unreal.” She pinched his side, and he slapped her hand away. “To think I was in that little house in Bristol, resigned to my fate four years ago. I thought I was never gonna get another chance at happiness. I gave up on it. I was a total fuckup.”

“You weren’t. Never,” Alex said. “And it was comin’, mate. You are one of the kindest, most brilliant, smartest, funniest people I know. It was inevitable.”

“Oh hush, you. You haven’t done so bad yourself.” He tugged gently on her earlobe.

“Seriously. You and Connie deserve each other – it sounds ominous, but it’s true. You’re both amazing.” John smiled. “Speaking of being resigned to your fate, how’s Mara?”

He sighed. “In L.A. with her new boyfriend last I heard, and that was over a year ago.”

“Eh,” Alex said, looking out the window at the children running after each other in the grass. The little girl with the red hair hugged Monty, and he ran away, screaming.

“And Addie? How's she adjusting?” she said.

“She’s a delight, and her and Lily are like blood sisters at this point,” he said. “She doesn’t ask about Mara anymore. Connie and I don’t push it because when we mention her, she gets the most heartbreaking, confused look on her face.” His face crumpled.

“And how are you?” Alex said. “She’s, like, a clone of her. Is it hard?”

“I thought it might be,” he admitted. “But, I don’t know, she’s not Mara, if that makes any sense. She’s sweet, and unselfish, and kind. It was a bit weird at first,” he laughed. “I don’t know whether it’s all her, or maybe Connie’s influence, but I don’t care either way. She’s ours.”

“I have to say, you surprised me when you told me about the adoption. It’s mad,” Alex said. “But after a bit of thought, it makes sense. Who better than you, right?”

He jumped off the counter and sighed. “I’m gonna tell you a secret,” he said. “It was Connie who talked me into it.”

“Really?” Alex said, surprised.

“Yeah,” he said. “At first, I wanted to move on. Start fresh. And when Mara contacted us with the idea, I thought it was another attempt to wrap me up in her life again. I didn’t want any part of it. But Connie took over, and asked her all the difficult questions. I thought Mara would disappear since I wasn’t the one engaging with her, but she was dead serious. She really wanted to give Addie away.”

“So Connie was never weirded out about the idea of adopting your ex-wife’s love child with someone else?”

“No. She wanted to adopt right away, but she was more concerned about how I felt about it,” he said. “She was patient, and didn’t force the idea on me. But we were having so much trouble conceiving at the time and she really wanted to be a mother. She has so much love to give – we both did, and in the end, there was no reason the daughter should have to pay for the sins of the mother.”

Alex squeezed his shoulder. “I’m gonna go outside and love on Connie,” she said.

“I’ll join you,” he said. When they walked through the dining room, they heard pattering footsteps and a giggle. There were a few sugar flowers missing from the cake on the table.

“Lily. She’s like a little mouse, getting into things,” he said with a smile. They walked outside and Connie had her legs up on the porch swing. Liv was out in the yard, playing with Addie, and John ran out and started chasing after them both.

“How are you doin’, love?” Alex said, and pulled up a chair beside her.

“About to burst,” she said with a sigh. “My ankles are swollen, I have to pee every 15 minutes, and he’s jumping on my diaphragm like a trampoline.”

“So, ecstatic?” Alex said.

“Completely,” she said, and sighed contentedly. They watched the kids playing for a minute or two.

“Oh, your little mouse got into the cake,” she said.

Connie laughed. “Watch this,” she said, and put a serious face on. “Lily, get over here this instant!” she yelled.

The little girl ran around John and up the steps in front of her.

“Yes, mami?” she said, holding her hands behind her. She was the spitting image of her father.

“A little bird told me that someone was eating the sugar flowers off the cake, even though you pinky promised that you wouldn’t touch it before dinner,” she said. The girl licked pink frosting from the corner of her mouth. “Do you have any idea who did it?”

Lily looked down at her galoshes, then dropped to the floor and pulled them off. “Mami, one of my zoom boots is loose,” she said, and held her small booted foot up for her to see. The screw had broken off one of her ankle braces. Alex’s eyes widened.

“Oh no,” Connie said, and Lily repeated it softly. “John!” He ran up and gave her a kiss. “Could you get me the repair kit? In the drawer by the stove.”

“Is one of Lily’s zoom boots out?” he said, and picked her up and lifted her over his head. “We can’t have that! How will she fly?”

The little girl whooped and giggled as he carried her inside.

“Zoom boots?” Alex said.

“I forgot to mention it – her braces. When she was born, one of her feet twisted inward. John wanted to blame himself, but I didn’t allow it. We found the best pediatric orthopedic surgeon we could afford, and he did what he does best. As you can see, she can move around at almost 100%. By the time she starts primary school, she won’t need it.”

“But why zoom boots?” she said.

“We didn’t want her to feel to different from other children, so we gave the brace a cool name. They help her run like the wind,” she said. Addie ran up, with Ollie right behind her.

“Can I say hello, mum?” Addie said. Connie nodded, and kissed the top of her head as the girl rubbed her belly and whispered. Her auburn hair was red at the root with sweat.

“Go inside and tell da to put a hat on you,” she said. Addie poked her little lips out and made a face.

“If you don’t put on a hat, then you might get a cold, and if you do, then you won’t be able to see Manny when he comes,” Connie said, raising her brows.

Addie gasped and ran inside, screaming for her dad.

Liv walked up with Monty and sat nearby. “Did you finally finish the plans for your greenhouse?” she said.

“Greenhouse? Where?” Alex said. Ollie crawled into her lap and played with her hair. He was long due for a nap.

Connie giggled. “We’re gonna build a greenhouse. It’ll connect to the house by the living room,” she said.

“So it’s going to get even bigger?” Alex said.

“Yeah,” Connie said. “We’re in nowhere Scotland, but eventually, we’ll still have fresh cut flowers all year,” she said.

Alex shook her head. “How’s your clientele taking all this?” she said, waving at her belly.

“They can take it how they like. My family comes first,” she said. “John? I hear silence from inside. I don’t like silence!” she yelled. She settled into the porch swing. “To be fair, for the first time since I broke up with my ex, I had to cancel some gigs. I just can’t do anything until this one’s out, and settled.” She rubbed her belly. “But, something wild happened when I let one of my clients know I couldn’t do their wedding.”

“Eh?” Alex said.

“They postponed it,” she said with a giggle. “They said they’d wait on me, and that there was no hurry. They’re already two kids in!”

They all laughed.

“Weddings are serious business, I guess,” Alex said. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Neither would I,” Liv said, looking out for Monty. He ran back and forth along the fence, jumping occasionally to get a better view of the sea.

“Your day will come, if you just wait awhile,” Connie sang softly, and looked at them both affectionately. They had changed so much, but they were still so similar. Liv sighed.

“I’m gonna go check on John. Knowing him, he’s having a tickle fight with the girls instead of watching the fob,” she said. Just as she stood up, Addie ran out with a blue cap on, with Lily close behind.

“Nyooom!” John said, barreling past in hot pursuit. “All better, sweetie?”

“Yeah!” Lily said, and ran toward Monty, her arms outstretched. Ollie jumped out of Alex’s lap and ran toward the excitement.

“They’re dying to go down to the beach,” John said. “I can take them after dinner, if it’s okay with you ladies?” He nodded at Alex and Liv.

“Sure,” Alex said.

“Monty’d love it,” Liv said.

“Me too,” Connie sighed. “But I can barely walk.”

“I’ll take you down,” he said.

"How? You gonna carry me over your shoulder?" Connie said.

“Of course not. I'll throw you in a wheelbarrow.” He giggled.

“Wit,” Connie said. She made a face at him.

“I’ll put a nice fluffy blanket down for comfort,” he said, wiggling his fingers.

“I hate you,” she said, pouting.

He nuzzled her temple and kissed her. “No, you don’t,” he said, and rested his hand on her belly.

“You’re right. I don’t,” she said, and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Mam, look, the water!” Ollie said, running back. “Is there sharks?”

Liv perked up and looked at Alex. “Did I ever tell you about the time I nearly got eaten by a bull shark in Costa Rica?”

“That’s what you get for going scuba diving with an open wound,” Connie said, rolling her eyes.

“No,” Alex said. “So it’s you telling stories now?” Her eyebrow rose.

“I’ve got loads, if you want to hear them. It’ll help to pass the time in this wilderness,” she said. “They’re not all near-death experiences either. There’s some juicy bits too.” Liv looked at Connie. “And the wound wasn’t open. I cut my ankle on some coral. I was wearing a plaster.”

“Bloody hell! Can’t sharks smell a drop of blood from, like, miles off or something like that?” Alex said, leaning forward.

“That’s a common misconception,” John horned in from the steps. “They can detect blood in the water at around 500 meters, furthest. Still, you obviously had a death wish, Olivia,” he said, and kissed the top of Lily’s head, who sat on his lap to listen to the story. Addie sat at Connie’s feet.

“But I didn’t. I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to dive with one of the best instructors in the country over a tiny little flesh wound,” Liv said.

“Was she, though?" Connie said. “You nearly made that instructor poo herself once he saw that monster circling,” Connie said.

“Pfft, it was tiny. Like, only 4 feet long, tops. A baby,” she said, holding back a laugh.

“You’re laughing now, but you were on therapy for a year after that,” Connie said.

Liv shrugged. “I was a bit tightly wound back then. It’s not news.” John snorted. Liv swatted in his direction, but he ducked away with a giggle. “Needless to say, things have changed. And I’m willing to give it another go. Maybe Australia this time?”

“Right. Have a nice visit to the home of everything that’s trying its best to kill you,” Alex said.

“I survived an all-girl’s public school, and being a lawyer in London for a decade. I know how to deal with bird-eating spiders, crocodiles, and poisonous snakes,” she said. “Easy peasy.”

“Fuck me, who are you?” Alex said, shaking her head.

"Language!" John and Connie said in unison. Alex flushed.

“Sorry for not doing this before,” she said, smiling at Alex. John stood up and helped Connie into the house, with the children in tow.

“Did John tell you about the time I beat up a tweaker trying to mug me in New York?” Alex said.

“Lies!” Liv said. “Really?”

“I shit you not,” Alex said, holding both hands up. “I’d had the worst day ever, and I swear my adrenaline took over and I dropped him like a sack of shit.”

The wind picked up, and they shivered. Liv’s eyes lingered on Alex’s face. She was even more beautiful than she remembered. She wondered what was going on in her head. Maude was responsible and kind, but ultimately boring. Despite the gloss, Alex was still the woman she fell in love with – impetuous, outspoken, and sweet. She missed sweetness. Alex noticed her looking, and didn't shy away from her gaze.

“We should go inside,” Liv said, and rose. "It's getting cold." She held out her hand.

“I’d love to,” Alex said, took it, and followed her into the house.

THE END

Note: Thanks to everyone who showed interest, liked, and reblogged - you make my heart sing with a click. Due to reasons, I will leave the full story up for only two weeks, then I will delete it. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it 💖

#That Woman Over There #you me and him #David Tennant #character #fan fiction #John + Connie #I can't believe it's over #120k on That Woman Over There #it's been quite a journey #I'm so attached

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fireinmoonshot · 7 years

Text

Hidden Crush.

Requested by Anon: “Could I please request an Agent Whiskey x Reader where reader is a techie like Ginger and Whiskey has a crush on her but he's really shy about it. Then when the Kingsman comes Eggsy picks up on it and teases him relentlessly and actually ends up giving pretty good advice.” Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader. Fandom: Kingsman. Warnings: None. Word Count: 1865

THREE MONTHS EARLIER.

You let out a sigh, taking off your glasses for a moment to rub your forehead. You’d been working for at least twelve hours now and hadn’t even been able to take a break for lunch in the middle of the day. Agent Tequila had been on a mission that had gone wrong and you’d spent most of the day fixing it.

“You good over there, Agent?” Ginger asked from the desk opposite you.

You turned and nodded at her, putting your glasses back on. “Yeah, all good,” you smiled back at her. “Tequila is on his way back here, finally.”

She nodded slowly. “What happened to him?”

“He went undercover around midday, but someone caught him out two hours later and he had to fight his way out. He’s only just jumped in the cab to bring him back here,” you explained, leaning back in your chair, exhausted.

The door to your office creaked open and you turned to look at it, seeing Agent Whiskey appearing through it. He was holding a plate and a cup of what you guessed was coffee. “I heard someone was hungry,” he said.

You looked over to Ginger who smiled at you and shrugged. “I know you didn’t get a chance to eat,” she said. “Plus, you haven’t had a chance to try one of Jack’s world famous chicken wraps, have you?”

He sat the plate down in front of you. “There you have it,” he grinned. “Jack Daniel’s famous chicken wrap.” When Ginger had contacted him a few hours before and asked him secretly to bring you some food later, he couldn’t say no. He’d discovered that he liked you only a few weeks ago, but he was willing to do whatever it took to win you over, even if you didn’t know it.

You eyed him playfully and picked it up. “You’re a lifesaver, Jack Daniels,” you chuckled at him and took a bite. He watched you as you did, a smile still on his face. When you finished eating the first bite, you gave him a thumbs up.

He grinned at you, clearly happy that you’d enjoyed the food. “Now, you gotta tell Tequila when he gets back that I don’t poison ‘em,” he said. “If you convince him they’re safe to eat, he’ll eat ‘em.”

You laughed at him and shook your head, amused. “I mean, if I wasn’t all tired and delirious, I probably would have been worried about somethin’ like that too, Whiskey. I don’t blame him.”

Whiskey winked at you and left the room, leaving you with a grin on your face at the fact that he’d brought you food. And with him feeling immensely happy that doing such a small thing could make you so happy.

NOW.

At first, Whiskey hadn’t been willing to take the position in the New York office because it meant spending time away from you. In your opinion, him taking the position for a while was a great idea for his career.

He’d hoped that spending some time away would help clear up his feelings and allow him to learn about how he really felt about you, but it really only made him miss you more. You rarely sat in on the group meetings, not being needed like the rest of the agents were, so he rarely ever saw you.

When the chance came for him to go back to headquarters in Kentucky, he jumped at it. He’d played it off as if he was going back to help the Kingsman agents who had showed up a week before, but it was really because of you.

He hadn’t expected to see you when he did. He’d only just gone to visit Agent Tequila, who had been struck down by the blue rash, when you walked into the infirmary, carrying a clipboard.

He watched as you stopped in your tracks and grinned, hurrying over to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for a quick hug. He tried to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach as you hugged.

“You’re back!” You exclaimed, grinning at him.

Whiskey chuckled and nodded. “No, really?!” He joked, a smile on his face.

You playfully rolled your eyes at him and punched his arm softly. “How long have you been back?” You asked, crossing your arms and looking down at Tequila, still laying on the hospital bed.

“I just got back from Glastonbury with that Eggy guy,” he explained. “I think I’m back here for good now, at least until the next mission. You stickin’ around?”

You nodded. “I’m always here, Jack. Always will be.”

Eggsy had noticed on more than a few occasions that look that Whiskey gave you. You didn’t seem to pick up on the looks that Eggsy saw, or at least, Eggsy figured, if you saw them, you didn’t think much of them.

He’d been at Statesman for almost two weeks now and after spending three days straight with Agent Whiskey, and only having a break in the middle with the target, Clara, he’d figured out some of the mans tells pretty quickly.

You, on the other hand, were completely oblivious to them. You had no idea that Agent Whiskey was crushing on you, even though you prided yourself on being one of his closest friends and knowing almost everything about him.

But, because of that, you also knew about his reputation. You also knew that he was the type of guy who, when he was bored, went to the bar in town, picked up a pretty girl and took her home. You hadn’t realised that, ever since he realised he liked you, he’d stopped that ritual.

Eggsy had, however. He’d guessed when he first met Whiskey that he was a one night stand kind of guy. His first words to him had been about how going to a music festival to pick up a girl was his favourite kind of mission. Yet, he hadn’t seen any of that happening ever since he’d known him.

Whiskey had intended for his sudden disinterest in other women to be subtle enough that you, nor Ginger or Tequila, wouldn’t notice it. He hadn’t counted on Eggsy being smart enough to realise after such a small time knowing him.

During one weekend, Eggsy and Whiskey found themselves alone in Champ’s office and Eggsy couldn’t help but mention you.

“So,” he began, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Your tech agent is pretty cute. Don’t you think? Do you, uh, do you know if she’s dating anyone?”

Whiskey turned to Eggsy and furrowed his eyebrows. “Ginger?”

“No, not her,” he shook his head. “Agent Brandy. Is that her codename?”

He held back a grin as Whiskey tensed up a little beside him. “Yeah, that’s her. I, uh, nope. As far as I know, she’s not taken.”

Eggsy let out a low whistle and nodded. “Isn’t that a pity, bruv?”

Whiskey frowned. “What in heck are you on about?”

He chuckled. “I mean, don’t you think it’s a pity she isn’t taken? By you.”

“You’re talkin’ shit, mate,” he scoffed, taking a few steps away from Eggsy. “I don’t know what the heck you’re on about.”

Eggsy laughed and stepped forward, patting Whiskey on the back. “Bruv, you gotta ask her out. You’re starin’ at her every time you see her. Just go and reel her in with that lasso of yours or you’re gonna miss your chance.”

Whiskey hated Eggsy for picking up on his crush on you. He didn’t want to tell you that he liked you, but, annoyingly, Eggsy’s words had hit quite close to home and he agreed with him.

If he didn’t tell you he liked you, odds were you’d find another man and run away with him, leaving him heartbroken and disappointed. So, he slowly made his way to his office where he knew you were, a plate in his hand holding another one of his world famous chicken wraps.

He’d made it specially for you, but, just so he didn’t have to speak, he’d sat a small piece of paper underneath it and written five words on it, reading simply -

I like you, Y/N. - Jack

He hoped you’d see it hiding underneath the wrap when you ate the wrap and hoped that he’d be far from the scene when it happened, not really wanting to be around when you read it in case it all went wrong.

You opened the door to your office with a smile on your face and Whiskey loved seeing you so happy as he followed you over to your desk and sat the plate down on it. “I figured you could use a bit more stamina,” he shrugged before turning to leave.

He was just at the door when heard your intake of breath and inwardly cringed. He hadn’t made it out in time and knew that if he didn’t go now, everything would go down the drain, including your friendship with him.

So, he quickly disappeared and hurried down the hallway, muttering Shit, shit, shit as he went. He hadn’t expected you to follow him, nor did he hear you leaving your office.

“Jack,” you said behind him, finally reaching him and tugging on his jacket to get him to slow down. “What’s this?”

You held up the piece of paper which had shocked you so much. It seemed like something small and silly at first, like he’d just decided to joke with you and put it under your lunch, but the pace at which he’d left the room gave it away.

Whiskey cleared his throat, chuckling softly. “Uh, nothin’,”

“Bullshit,” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “Did you mean to hide this under my wrap? It’s a little note that says you like me. From Jack. You.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Did I mean to put a note under your wrap?”

You glared at him, raising your eyebrows. You knew you looked unimpressed and even a little angry, but your heart was beating like crazy in your chest as you looked at him. They were only three words that probably meant nothing, but you had to investigate. If they did mean something...

Jack sighed and threw his arms up in the air in exasperation. “Yeah, fine, I did,” he exclaimed. “I put the note under your wrap because Eggsy told me I should tell you I liked you. Was I wrong to do so? Is it wrong to share feelings now?”

You took a step backwards, shocked by his sudden outrage.

He winced as you moved and awkwardly adjusted his hat. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I just had to go for it, y’know? I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t tell you, darlin’. But if you don’t feel the same, or don’t think you ever can, just ignore it and forget that this ever happened.”

A smile came to your face before you even realised it and you stepped forward, closer to Jack again. You took him by surprise as you suddenly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you. “Let’s give it a go, then.”

#agent whiskey #whiskey #kingsman #kingsman: the golden circle #agent whiskey x reader #whiskey x reader #kingsman x reader #agent whiskey imagine #whiskey imagine #kingsman imagine #agent whiskey reader insert #whiskey reader insert #kingsman reader insert #imagine

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