#just accept that you don’t like a ship shrug it off and move on to what you do like

[sinofwriting]

Made For Each Other - Max Verstappen

Words: 3,486 Summary: Max never put much stock into love at first sight until meeting her. Note(s)/Warning(s): Near Physical Cheating, Some Emotional Cheating (on Kelly not reader). So this is the toxic!max fic I mentioned and uh yeah this isn’t super like toxic but it’s something. Also, I will not apologize for inserting found family into this fic.

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon 

“What?” Max presses his lips together, jaw twitching and he’s happy that P isn’t here, but with Daniil’s parents. “Things haven’t been good for us in awhile.” Maybe ever. He thinks and nearly winces, because they had been good in the beginning. But things had changed halfway through the 2021 season and it had only gotten worse as the weeks and months went on. “Kelly, it is unfair to you for me to pretend that I want to be with you anymore.” He nearly says that once the season was over he was already planning on breaking up with her, but manages to hold his tongue. She’s looking at him in that way that he hates, that’s caused arguments because it reminds him of his father. “What do you want me to tell P?” He can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes him at her easy acceptance. “Tell her that I will always love her and that if she ever wants to talk to me, she can call and I’ll do my best to answer.” “Okay.” Her voice is quiet and she looks around his apartment. “There shouldn’t be much here, but what you do find, have it shipped to me.” “Of course.”

He watches as Kelly walks towards the front door and maybe he shouldn’t say anything, doesn’t want to give her false hope, but he can’t help it. “Kelly.” She stops, her hand on the door knob ready to turn it. “Thank you for the past few years and all your support.” He sees her shoulders move as she sighs. “Your welcome, Max.” And then she turns the handle and walks out of his apartment.

He watches the door for a moment, feeling like if he looks away, suddenly she’ll be back. But the handle doesn’t turn and he’s spinning around to move to the couch where he had thrown his phone when Kelly had unexpectedly come here.

His thumb quickly moves across the screen, opening his last text message thread and sending a simple text.

I broke up with her.

It stares up at him and three dots appear along with those little check marks and he can’t help but smile. And god if the media could see him now, smiling after just breaking up with his girlfriend of so long, they’d use this as some sort of proof that he is the devil.

And now what?

His smile grows and his thumb moves again.

And now I come to you.

—

“You know, I thought you athletes had to train. Keep fit for the season.” She teases as he watches her move around her small kitchen. “I’ve barely been here a day and you’re kicking me out?” She shakes her head at him. “No it’s just I know that China got canceled, but you do have another race soon.” He shrugs, “It’s at the very end of the month. Besides, there's a gym close by. I can go there.” “And did you tell your trainer that you wouldn’t be home so he shouldn’t drop off any food or expect you?” His eyes widened. “Fuck.” He curses, scrambling out of the kitchen and to the bedroom where his phone is, her laughter ringing in his ears.

Calling Brad, he hears the phone ring three times before his trainer picks up. “Hello,” “Hey Brad, uh I’m not home right now. I mean, I’m not in the uh country.” “Did they call you for some testing?” “Uh no. I’m not there either. Just took a bit of a break, so don’t worry about meals or anything.” There’s a bit of silence before Brad speaks again. “Max, is everything alright?” “Yeah, yes. Everything is fine. I just needed a bit of a break. I’ll see you in Milton on the twenty-first, yeah?” “Sure.” “Great.” And Max hangs up the call, feeling a bit like a hurricane.

“You’ve made me go crazy.” He tells her when he sees her standing in the door of the bedroom, raising an arm when she doesn’t move. She immediately moves into his space, wrapping her arms around his waist, as his arm wraps around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Have I?” “Yes. Meeting you has made me crazy.” “Do you regret it?” “No.” The answer is swift and firm, because no he could never regret it.

So much had changed since he had seen her for the first time just barely two weeks ago. Most of those changes happened in the past forty-eight hours. But he liked those changes.

He liked how he felt ever since she first looked at him, shook his hand, said his name. Liked how she made him smile and laugh. Maybe it was fucked but he liked how in Austrailia when he won and he nearly kissed her at the afterparty, she had to press her hand on his chest and hold him back. Remind him that he had a girlfriend. Had to stop him from pulling out his phone to call her and break up with her right then and there. Liked that despite that, she had taken his unlocked phone, added her number and told him to text her. Pressed her lips to his cheek and let the scent of her bury itself in his brain. He liked that when he first texted her asking when he could see her again, she hadn’t asked who, just told him they could talk when he was single. Liked that barely a day later he had texted her telling her he was and now he was here, with her, in her home.

Max loved however, her. The way she kissed him when he showed up at her doorstep. The then slight shyness she had over her giving him her number and her text, though there was no guilt or apology to be found in her words. Just more disbelief that she had done so. How she smelled, her house smelled. The way she sat, how her fingers brushed over his skin. How passionate she was about her job, about the music she listened to, and the candle that sat beside her bathtub.

And so it comes out. “I love you.”

He shouldn’t be saying it. People would and will call him crazy for it, but he knows himself. He knows what he’s feeling. And he loves her. Loves this woman that he hasn’t even known for a month. And fuck, people like to talk about how love at first sight doesn’t exist and you don’t know when someone is the one immediately or so soon after meeting them, but that isn’t true. There are outliers. He’s got a cousin that married her husband barely a year after dating him and they are happier than any couple he’s ever seen. One of the guys he grew up karting with met his girlfriend and a month later they were moving in together. He thinks they have three kids or maybe it’s four now.

And she, she feels like he was made for her and only her.

“I love you too.” The words aren’t whispered, no shame or doubt on them. Just certainty and he doesn’t know that she’s thinking the same thing. That she was made just for him.

—

She doesn’t come to the next race no matter how much he begs. Even when he’s about to run late for his flight back to the factory, head buried her neck as he pleads with her to come. But she only laughs, brushing her fingers through his hair.

“You just barely made a statement about no longer being with Kelly.” And he kind of hates that there’s no distaste in her voice about him having a girlfriend when they met. He knows that if she had been seeing someone his blood would be boiling everytime his name got brought up or even hinted at. “Give it a bit to settle.” He straightens with a bit of frown, “I won’t hide you.” She laughs, eyes lighting up and it makes him smile. “I’m not asking you too. Just for patience. I don’t want your PR team to end up hating me.” “Miami, then?” She shakes her head, pushing him away. “You have a plane to catch, Max.” “Imola?” He asks, backing up. Eyes widening a bit when she shakes her head again. “Monaco?” “Max!” And she’s laughing again. “Spain?” And this time she nods her head and he groans, picking up his duffel bag that’s been sitting by the door for probably thirty minutes now. “That is so fair away. You will make me wait that long?” “Oh, poor baby. Having to wait just a little over a month.” He pokes his bottom lip out, unashamed to pout. Because yes, not having her with him for the next four races sounded like torture. He had only gotten a taste of what her support was like in Australia. He wanted all of it now.

She must see that on his face because her smile turns fond, no more teasing and she’s capturing his lips in a quick kiss. “It will go by faster than you think, Max. And it gives me enough time to get everything situated so I can really be comfortable working from anywhere in the world.” “So, you’ll join me for the rest of the season?” “Yes.” He grins, pressing their lips together once, then twice. “If it does not go by fast like you say,” She stops him before he can continue. “Go, Max, it will. And I’m always a call away.”

—

The press eagerly awaits Max’s arrival in Baku. Hoping to see the two time world champion, downtrodden, miserable, regretful. Instead they get an even better story. He arrives at the track on the phone laughing, smile wide and body relaxed. It wasn’t the image of a man who had just separated from his girlfriend of a few years. It was the image of a man happier than he ever had been before.

They all want to ask questions, want to ask who he’s talking to, what or who perhaps has him smiling. Why did he and Kelly break up? Did he break up with her? Did she with him? But none of them are willing to risk the odd relationship that Red Bull has with the press, kind even generous until you cross the line.

—

“No more races without you.” He murmurs when she arrives at his hotel in Spain, his breath causing goosebumps to appear on her neck. “No more.” She agrees, before pulling slightly away, just so they can look at each other. “Hi.” She greets. He smiles at her. “Hi.” “Congrats on Monaco.” He huffs, but something warm fills him with her words. “You said that on the phone.” “That was on the phone.” She teases, before lifting her arms to loop them around his neck. “Proud of you, Max.” He doesn’t know how to respond to that, to how sincere her words are, so he presses their lips together.

“I love you.” She breathes when they break apart, panting slightly with shiny and swollen lips. “I love you too.”

—

The camera's shuttering intensifies as soon as Max’s car that he was given for the race weekend arrives at the track on Saturday. And it only gets worse when instead of just locking the car and starting his walk to the red bull garage, he rounds to the other side, opening the passenger door and helping a woman get out.

This woman is not one that any of them recognize. She is not Max’s mother or sister. She is not Kelly or some sort of model, super, instagram, or swimsuit. And even better they don’t recognize this Max. Who as soon as she is out of the car, purse in hands, shuts the door for her, which is fairly typical for him. But what is not is the way he presses his lips to hers for a quick kiss, before snaking an arm around her waist, a sort of love sick smile on his face as they begin the walk.

“I can’t believe you wanted me to come to one of these things earlier.” She murmurs to him, giving a wave to all the cameras. If she was going to do this, be with Max, she’d have to get used to them and quickly. “I still wish you had.” He murmurs back, squeezing her waist and turning his head to press his nose quickly to the top of her head. “Did you tell anyone about me or that I was coming?” She asks, though she already has a feeling what the answer is as they move further into the paddock and sees some of the drivers do double takes. He smirks, “now why would I do that?” She shakes her head, “your PR team is going to kill you and I’m going to watch.” Her eyes then catch on a slightly familiar man who’s looking at Max with murder in his eyes and she amends her statement. “Daniel is going to kill you and I’m going to watch.” Max pales slightly as he takes a look at the man she only knows from his stories and a few brief clips she’s seen on youtube.

As soon as they enter Red Bull’s hospitality for the weekend, Daniel pounces. Dragging Max and her since Max refuses to let go of her, to Max’s drivers room.

When the door closes, Daniel shoves Max though she expects more gently than he normally would due to her and stands in front of the door, hands on his hips, anger and disappointment warring on his face.

“Max.” “Daniel.” He replies, though it's a bit meek and she can’t help but give his hand a quick squeeze before letting go and stepping away. Not returning to his side despite the offended and hurt look he gives her. She shakes her head. “I told you that you could tell people.”

Daniel turns to look at her, giving her a quick grin. “I like you.” He declares before turning back to Max, grin gone.

“Seriously Max. First there was Kelly and you breaking up, which I found out through social media and you still haven’t told me how that whole thing went down.” She winces at the exasperation in Daniel’s voice. She knew from Max how close they were, considering themselves brothers just about and she couldn’t imagine how Daniel felt learning about Max’s breakup from social media and not the man himself.

“And now this!” He waves his hands around between her and Max. “I’m sure you're great.” He tells her quickly and she gives him a sheepish smile. “I mean really Max. What gives?” Max stares at the older man, unsure of what exactly to say to him.

It wasn’t like he didn’t think the people he was closest to weren’t going to have a reaction to the news of his breakup and now new relationship. It’s just that besides Daniel none of them had really reached out wanting to know what happened because they were all right with not knowing. They knew that if Max wanted to talk about it with them, he would. But Daniel was different.

He talked to Daniel about everything. A side effect of the older man having to deal with him as a teammate for those few years when he was so young and trying to really figure himself out. They had developed a different kind of relationship. One where he knew that he could go to Daniel with anything and everything and receive no judgment, only support. Daniel to him was a weird cross of a friend, brother, and father.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes and his hands tighten into fists a little. Always unsure of himself when apologizing. “I should have called. Told you, explained what happened.” He hesitates, but knows that Daniel deserves the truth. “I nearly did.” And wasn’t that the truth. There were many times he nearly called or texted Daniel to tell him about the stunning girl he saw, then met, then nearly kissed, then got together with. But he hadn’t. He knew if he told Daniel, he’d end up telling everyone. Daniel stares at him, face giving away nothing, making him fidget, before he sighs and gives Max a smile. “It’s all good mate. You’re a bit of a cunt. But,” he shrugs, grinning. “You’ve always been like that.” Max lets out a laugh, relaxing at the familiar energy of Daniel. “Yeah, just a bit.”

He turns to look at his girlfriend, who's looking between the two of them with a smile, beckoning her back to his side. Enjoying how she easily fits into his side. “Daniel, this is my girlfriend,” and he knows his voice is lovesick when he says her name with the way Daniel looks at him. “Darling, Daniel.” “It’s nice to meet you, Daniel. Max talks about you a lot.” Daniel’s eyes flicker to Max, expecting some sort of an embarrassment or denial, but the younger man just nods. And that’s good enough for Daniel, who immediately grins at her before pulling her into a hug. “Nice to meet you as well. Max treating you well? I taught him everything he knows.” He tells her with a wink when he releases her. She lets out a small giggle at his words, but nods. “Very well. And thank you for your services.” She winks, making Daniel laugh.

“Oh, you are amazing. Now, tell me how this happened and what happened with Kelly.” He says gesturing between the two of them, sitting on the folding chair in the room, while they sit on the couch. “They are very much connected.” She laughs, before patting Max on the arm and sitting back fully.

“Oh, no.” Max groans, running a hand over his face. Daniel was going to have a fucking laugh. “So, we met a little before the Australian Grand Prix. Nearly had an incident there.” He tilts his head towards her and Daniel nods, understanding what he’s saying. “I actually nearly broke it off there. She managed to stop me however. But when I got home to Monaco, I broke up with Kelly then and there. Was already planning on doing it at the end of the season.” Daniel nods. “You mentioned that before.” “Yeah.” Max sighs, before telling him the rest.

Daniel stares at him for a moment after he's done before shaking his head, with a sort of breathless laugh. “Only you, Max. Only you. I’m happy for you though.” Max smiles at the older man’s easy acceptance. “Thank you.” “PR’s going to kill you for not giving them any warning.” He rolls his eyes, she had been telling him the same thing. “They won’t do anything. Besides, didn't they want me to be more personable?” “Don’t think this is what they meant or had in mind.” She tells him. “Probably hoping you’d vlog. Do what Charles and Lando do.” His nose wrinkles at the idea, making her and Daniel laugh.

—

“You’re good for him.” Daniel murmurs as they watch qualifying. She turns her head a little, still keeping most of her focus on the track. “Think so?” “Know so.” He corrects, taking a moment to flash her a smile. “Max and Kelly,” he sighs. “They had a lot of issues.” She says for him. “Wanted different things or the same things but not at the same time.” “Yeah,” the older man breathes, feeling at ease with how much she knows. “She made him happy at first ya know? But you,” he pauses to shake his head. “You make him into the person I think he would’ve been without Jos. Relaxed, at ease, happy.” His voice is a little quieter with the last word and she has to blink so she doesn’t start to cry. “I want him to be happy. And I know we fell into this fast, but Max.” She sighs, feeling a smile stretch across her lips as her heart flutters in her chest all at his name, at the thought of him. “I was made for him.” Daniel chuckles, taking in the infatuated, lovesick, expression on her face. It was the same look he had seen earlier on Max. It was nice to see that it really did go both ways. “There might be some fuss around it, but it’ll die down eventually.” He hesitates not wanting his next words to seem to much, but thinks fuck it. They went to the extremes here, and she’d have to get used to it fast with Max, if she wasn’t already. “I’ll message a few drivers that I know will support you and Max. We’ll have your guys back with the media or anyone else.” His support and approval make her reach out, squeezing his forearm for a few seconds. “Thank you, Daniel. It means the world to me.”

---

Tagging: @lapb @gemofthenight @peachiicherries

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #my brainrot for max is so bad #i had to finish this one because last night i came up with another idea for him #he has a hold on me

[tommyshelbyswh0re]

the forgotten daughter- Tommy Shelby

summary- tommy sent his daughter away because she was a burden he wasn’t ready for. she went 12 years without seeing him once, what happens when she gets an invitation to his wedding?

trigger warning- talks of abuse, neglect, rape, violence, illness.

angst

dad!tommy shelby x daughter!reader

you were 6 when you were sent away to a girls school in manchester. your father, thomas shelby, had told you that ‘he couldn’t be a father’ and that he was ‘too busy to be burdened with a child’. you were now 18 and hadn’t seen your family since. the last time you had received a letter from your father was when you were 17 and it was to inform you about the birth of his son, charles shelby.

you were enraged. it was unfair that he saw charles as a blessing and you as a burden. that he could step up to be a father then but not 17 years ago. you had practically raised yourself for the last 12 years. every birthday you stole a cupcake from the canteen at the school and sung yourself happy birthday. every christmas you receive pitying looks from the nuns because you were one of the only children to stay in the four walls of your dormitory whilst all the other girls spent time with their families.

you had just finished your last year and was lucky enough to get a job straight out of straight out of school which allowed you to buy yourself a small flat. you sent a letter to your father to let him know that you were safe and you gave him your address although you never knew whether he received the letter because he never wrote back. until a week ago when he sent you a wedding invitation.

deciding to attend was the easiest decision. you knew you wanted to see him one last time before you ultimately cut all communication and moved on, knowing that there was no point in hoping he would acknowledge you as his daughter. you were however grateful that he paid for your education, even if he did abandon you for 12 years.

you used your savings to buy a new dress before getting the train to birmingham and paying for a taxi to the church. as you stood outside the venue you pondered on whether this was a good idea, but you knew you had to do this in order to accept that you were alone in this world. you sat at the back with your head down for the entirety of the ceremony. you didn’t even put your head up to see the bride. as selfish as it sounded, you didn’t care for the wedding and you did not care about their happiness.

when the ceremony was finished, you stood outside of the church with a cigarette in your hand whilst your ‘family’ took photos. next to you, a gentleman was doing the same thing. he was also glaring at the family and you wondered what his issue was.

“what did they do to you?” you scoffed.

“huh?” he raised his brow

“if looks could kill, they’d be slaughtered by now” you joked.

“i just don’t like the groom” he shrugged.

“me neither” you agreed. “y/n” you reached your hand out to shake his.

“alfie” he reciprocated. “so why don’t you like him?” he asked.

“im his daughter” you nonchalantly replied.

“never new tom had a daughter”

“yeah he seems to forget aswell” you shrugged.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“it means he shipped me away for 12 years whilst he fucked off and had a family” you smiled. “fancy giving me a lift to this reception?” you linked his arm.

“absolutely. i think we will get along just fine” he grunted. and you smiled at him.

you both walked to his car and he held the door open for you. “didn’t take you for a gentleman” you bantered.

“is it the cockney accent that gave you that impression?” he wondered. which made you laugh.

“i suppose so” you climbed into the passenger seat and he climbed into the drivers. he started the car and drove towards what you were guessing was your fathers house, not that you’d ever been there.

“so tell me about the relationship with your father y/n” he delved straight in.

“wow you waste no time” you scoffed. “well he impregnated my mother, she died during childbirth, he lazily raised me for 6 years before telling me he couldn’t be a father and shipped me off to boarding school in manchester for 12 years and didn’t visit me once” you shrugged. it didn’t bother you anymore. you have accepted that even though he’s your dad, he’s never really been your father. he never tucked you into bed and read you a bedtime story, he never looked after you when you were ill, he never threatened your first date when he came to the door, he never took you for your first alcoholic drink and he will never walk you down the aisle at your wedding. and even though sometimes you just really need your father to tell you everything is going to be ok, you have been alone for 12 years and managed. you can go the rest of your life.

“oh. daddy issues then?” he tried to banter which made you laugh.

“you could say so yes” you replied.

“so if he’s such a shit dad why did you come to the wedding?” he pondered.

“i need closure. after this we will never ever speak again. all form of communication will be cut off.” you said with confidence.

“fair enough” alfie replied. he felt bad for the girl. she had never had a parent in her life. she had been neglected. and he could tell that even though she gave off the impression that she wasn’t bothered by it, he knew she was hurt deep down. so he left it at that.

for the rest of the drive you spoke about all sorts. your job, where you live, his job and where he lives. it was nice. and when your ‘fathers’ house came into view, you were in shock.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you whispered under your breathe. you don’t know why it was the house that made your heart drop, but it was a reminder that you were unwanted. that your father had abandoned you and started a new family that he lived with and looked after in the ridiculously large fucking house. and then came the lump in your throat.

“you ok?” alfie asked. he could tell that she was not.

you took a deep breath. “yes” you nodded and got out of the car. all the guests started showing up at the same time. you waited for alfie to get out of the car before you went in. he linked arms with you and you both walked in.

the first thing you saw was a stair case with large portraits of the family of three. it made you laugh.

“arrogant arseholes” you whispered to alfie which made him laugh. and it was then that you really looked at them. there was a portrait of what you’re guessing is your father, his new wife and his child. that was the first time you saw mrs grace shelby and charles shelby. and as bad as it sounds, you resented them. you resented grace for not encouraging your father to get to know you which sounds stupid and irrational but you couldn’t help it. you knew logically that it’s not your fault that the relationship between you and your father was none existent. it was his. and you resented charles for having the father you needed and wanted. that was supposed to be you. and again it’s irrational because he’s a child and it’s not his fault but you just felt so angry. so you looked away.

a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne and took a flute and chugged it. this concerned alfie. he didn’t want you to get drunk and say something to your ‘family’ that you would later regret.

“go easy” he sternly told you.

you glared at him.

from the other side of the room, john and arthur had noticed you.

“who is that linking arms with alfie?” arthur asked john.

“i think it might be y/n” john squinted.

“y/n y/n, as in tommy daughter y/n?” arthur responded.

“yeah, kind of looks like ‘er” john smiled.

“well why the fuck has she got her arm around alfie soloman’s” arthur said angrily.

“i don’t know, he’s like 15 years older than her” john looked confused. before tommy came up behind them. “need you in the kitchen now” tommy demanded.

“did you know y/n is here?” john asked him.

“who?” tommy asked

“your daughter, y/n” said arthur.

“what? where?” tommy looked around before he saw you.

“why the fuck is she linking alfie, and why is she downing champagne? she’s a child” tommy asked.

“that’s what we were wondering. and tommy she’s not a child, she’s like 18 now isn’t she?” john asked.

just as tommy hummed, he made eye contact with you and it was you who looked away as soon as it happened. he truly saw you for the first time in 12 years. you were a woman now. he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were. you looked like the spitting image of your mother with your y/e/c coloured eyes and your soft y/h/c coloured hair. and all of a sudden he had a wave of guilt come over him. he knew he’d been a shitty father towards you, but he never really thought about it until that moment. he felt like shit and so he did what he does best and walked away.

on the other side of the room, you had just made eye contact with your father for the first time in 12 years. you had seen him in the papers so you knew he hadn’t really changed. but making eye contact felt so awkward for you. this was the man whose dna you shared and yet you felt no father-daughter connection with him. you just felt hurt. and so you chugged another flute of champagne. to which alfie’s concern grew even more.

the announcement was made that there was food in the other room as they asked everyone to move there.

you and alfie made your way to the table. you sat next to eachother. you looked around and saw your great aunt pol sat opposite you.

“is that you y/n?” she smiled.

“hello” you suddenly felt shy.

“hello darling” she replied. sat next to her was ada.

“how have you been y/n?” she asked.

“good, i graduated school”

“oh brilliant, do you work?” pol asked

“yes, i have a secretary job working at a factory and i’m a barmaid on the weekends”

“why two jobs?” ada asked

“moneys tight, have to be able to pay the bills on my flat”

“tom doesn’t give you money?” she responded

“why would he?” you asked.

“because you’re his daughter” ada said to which you shrugged. this conversation made pol and ada sad. they realised they truly knew nothing about you and your life. they also knew that tommy hadn’t been the best to you, but again, it didn’t dawn on them how neglectful they had also been.

“you recently turned 18 didn’t you?” pol asked.

“yes”

“did you do anything for your birthday?” she asked.

“not really. just went to work, went to the bakery on the way back home and bought a cupcake and went to bed” you shrugged. that was your routine of 12 years.

“you didn’t celebrate with friends?” they asked

“don’t have any” your shrugged.

“what about school friends?”

“well they all knew eachother because their parents were friends so they would see eachother outside of school” and this made pol and ada feel even worse, you truly were alone.

“well i’m sorry we didn’t come and see you, we were just so busy preparing the wedding” ada smiled.

“it’s ok, i didn’t expect anyone to”

arthur got up from his seat to do the best man speech.

“hello everyone, before you eat i just want to say a few words as best man. my brother tommy met grace in 1919, obviously at that point we didn’t know she was a spy from the parish” at this, you looked up to the top of the table for the first time to see arthur and john for the first time, and then you looked towards your dad. he had an uncomfortable face on him, obviously not expected arthur to bring such a thing up in his speech.

you chugged another flute of champagne. and now, alfie, pol and ada all grew concern for you.

“-anyway, enough about that. these two were destined for eachother. if tom can forgive her for it then it shows how much he loves her. tom doesn’t really love anyone besides grace and charles” and at this, your father looked in your direction to see you chugging another flute of champagne. your 4th in the space of an hour. his eyebrow raised.

“-they are the perfect family. tommy, grace and charles. when grace was pregnant with charles you should have seen tommy. constantly talking about how this is all he’s ever wanted. he was bouncing of the walls” a lump formed in your throat. because he already had a child. you.

ada and pol looked in your direction to see your head facing down and you picking at your nails. a nervous habit you have.

“when charles was born, you couldn’t get the smile off tommys face for weeks. it’s obvious he loves his little family. it didn’t take long for tommy to finally start taking days off work for once to take grace and charles on days out. i remember the first time tommy took a week off to take charles away in the caravan.”

you could feel your heart beat speeding up and tears forming in your eyes. and you sneakily tried to wipe them away. but alfie noticed. and he placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it.

“i remember the dark circles under his eyes when charles had a cold and wouldn’t settle and tommy had been up with him all night”

your dad looked in your direction to see you wiping a tear off you face and put your head up. and he saw the disappointment in your eyes. and he was disappointed in himself. he knew then that he hadn’t been a father towards you. he can’t remember a single night where he stayed up with you as a child and helped settle you. it was mostly ada and pol who raised you for them 6 years.

“grace. we love you, you came into tommys life and made it better. you gave him something to live for, a child” at this you stood up and walked out of the room. at this it dawned on all the family what had happened. arthur hadn’t realised how big he was fucking up until your shoes clacked against the floor as you speed walked out of the room. “shit” tom whispered. grace looked very confused as to what was happening. alfie stood up and went after you.

he found you sat on a step with your head in your hands. he quietly sat next to you and out his hand on your back and rubbed it. neither of you said anything and you just sat there and cried for the first time in 4 years.

a minute later, tommy came out. alfie glared at him. “go away mate” he whispered gesturing to you crying.

“i want to speak to my daughter privately” tommy demanded.

“haven’t you done enough. why now?” alfie asked him as he got up of the step.

“please” tommy pleaded. he looked desperate.

“don’t say anything stupid” alfie warned as he walked back into the other room. tommy sat next to you. you still had your face in your hands and he could just hear you sniffling. it broke his heart.

“im sorry y/n i know i haven’t been the best father” you scoffed.

“you’ve not been a father at all” you muffled from behind your hands.

“i know” he nodded.

“i haven’t been there for you at all. especially in the last 12 years. but i want to start” he tried to put his hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off. and pulled your face away from you hands.

“it’s too late. i’ve managed on my own for 12 years i can do it for the rest of my life” you turned to him.

“everyone needs someone y/n, trust me. i didn’t know it until i met grace” he sincerely said.

“maybe. but i’m fine without you in my life.”

“you don’t mean that” tommy shook his head.

“i really do. i have my own flat, a job and food in my cupboards. i don’t need you. i will never forgive you. you abandoned me for years. you neglected me. i spent twelve years in the same institute. christmas’s and half terms included. i was stuck in a building with people who would hit, kick and spit on me whenever i did the slightest thing wrong. i spent my 18th birthday being brutally raped by 3 men on my way home from the fucking bakery. i had to nurse myself back to health whenever i was ill. you weren’t there. you don’t need to be here now.” you shouted.

“y/n i- i don’t even know what to say. i overheard you talking to pol and you never mentioned that that’s what happened” you shook your head.

“its not really dinner talk is it.”

“i swear i will hunt those men down and make them hurt” he had a determined look on his face.

“too late. it’s already happened. they’ve already told me that if i tell anyone they’ll come after me” you shrugged.

“they won’t touch you, i’ll protect you”

“for how long? two weeks before you decide i’m too much of a burden again” you shook your head.

“you remember that?” he asked

“what? you telling me that i’m a burden? you don’t just forget your parent telling you that. sticks with you”

“i am so sorry y/n”

“yeah well i’ll get over it. coming to this wedding was a fucking mistake.” you sighed

“why did you come?” he asked.

“i wanted to see my family one last time before i cut all communication. not that any of yous care”

“come with me y/n” he got up and gestured for me to follow.

“why?” you questioned

“just come with me” he started walking so you followed.

you came to a stop infront of a door. he opened it and gestured for you to come inside.

you entered and quickly realised this was his office. “why are we in here?”

he walked towards his desk and grabbed a picture that was stood on it and held it out to you. it was a picture taken on your graduation. you looked up at him confused

“i had your school send a copy to me. i always asked for updates on how you were doing at school. i have every school report in my draw. i always cared about you. i was just terrible at showing it. and i always thought it was too late to try and be your father so i avoided you. which was wrong. but seeing you today reminded me that i don’t want to have regrets in life. i don’t want to be an old man on my death bed and wondering where my own daughter is. i know i cant expect you to just accepted me as your father. but i would really like you to come over for dinner one day. and meet grace and charles properly?” he asked.

“i don’t know. i don’t feel like they would want me here” you shook your head. with tears still rolling down your face.

“trust me, they do. grace has wanted to meet you for years. she was the one who encouraged me to invite you to the wedding. she really wanted family here. and you are family y/n. i know you feel wronged by all of us, and i understand why. but i want to make it better. please, give me a chance” he pleaded.

“okay.”

#peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby angst #grace shelby #peaky blinders imagines #shelby imagine #peaky blinders #polly gray #john shelby #arthur shelby #alfie solomons #angst #peaky blinder fanfic #masterlist

[sanjisblackasswife]

You can't tell me that Sanji loves a melaninated queen who can absolutely wreck him. I can see his liking dominant women who aren't afraid of speaking their mind. A women who will absolutely indulge in Sanji's perverted fanatics even if it means getting him roughed up.

A/N: I LITERALLY HAVE A WRITING W BLACK Y/N THAT LOVES HIS PERVINESS IN MY DRAFTS BUT U ADDING THE DOMINANT PART? Yesss imma just move what I wrote to here hehe also this is way longer than I thought so I’ll make a part two.

Having a Crush on Pervert Sanji (Black Fem! Reader) Part 1

C/W: pervert Sanji, Alotta Kissing, And Yeah?

-

You really love perverts. (Not Mineta)

You think that’s why you fell in love with Sanji.

He has no sense of boundaries besides not putting his feet hands on women .

He’s a pervert though.

Which is why so many women have turned him down he comes off too strong,

But you.

You really like it.

Imagine how bad of a pervert he’d be with three women on the ship and you being the only one that actually feeds to his pervertedness.

You let Sanji get away with so much,

You invite him to take a shower, you let him in your room when you’re not in there, you let him nuzzle his face in your breast at the most random times, and even kissed him a few times out of excitement.

You stress the crew out (especially Nami) sometimes doing this to Sanji, Do you know how many trips to Chopper he had to take because of you?

You were too good to him, and he knew that.

Which is why he’s more protective of you. No man can have the leeway he has. Sanji never seen you allow any other men to get as close as he was with you so clearly he was the special one.

“Y/nnnnn, why do you beat that guy THAT badly?! We got kicked out of the store I didn’t even get that pretty shirt in the window!”

“Because Nami that asshole kept touching my thigh….You can look at the merchandise not touch it.” Nami just didn’t get you, you always damn near kill a guy for even cat calling you, but Sanji the perv does way worse and you just give him a pass.

“If it was Sanji you’d let him do it.” Robin added as you three walked back to the ship.

“Of course, he’s Sanji.” You just shrugged as if that was an obvious statement, because it was. You had a soft spot for the Blondie, ever since you joined you liked his company so by default you were more flirtatious around him than any other man.

That was just an unspoken rule for you both.

However as much as you touched him and you let him touch you it never gotten as far as you giving him a kiss. And that alone was something Sanji could just accept.

He’d never take advantage of you no, no. But today he wanted to push that boundary.

“Y/NNNNNNNNNNN!!!” You just came back from the Crow’s Nest training with Zoro all day, you were irritated, hungry, thirsty, and tired and the ring of Sanji’s love struck voice didn’t help.

“Hey hey, Ji…” your voice was weakened from the yelling you also did with Zoro because he kept making you do “JuSt oNe mOrE sEt”. Sanji immediately noticed this when you came down from the ladder and rushed to see his favorite girl, your pretty brown skin was shiny and wet from your sweat, your hair were no longer in its typical bun but now out and wild covering your face. You really wished you had braids in now. You looked and felt a mess. Almost embarrassed to be seen by your Prince. He didn’t care, he loved seeing you this way, in your natural state; no makeup, no flashy clothing, and venerable. Sanji knew only he was permitted to see you like this.

“My love, you look like you’re about to faint!” He grabs you tightly by the waist, you lean your head on his shoulder almost immediately. His thumb rubbed your hand for a short while before just picking you up bridal style to the kitchen. “You don’t need to walk, Princess I got you!”

You giggled in his neck and hummed, Sanji tilted his head to tap your warm cheek against his walking to the kitchen to liven you up before bed, you feeling his strong arms hold up your not so clean body, he loved holding you like this, and since you’re only wearing a sports bra and spandex shorts he got to see your breast and thighs jiggle as he picked you up. “I stink Sanji I should take a bath.”

“Nonsense, you smell as beautiful as you look!” His words seemed like such a lie, but even if you didn’t think so Sanji most definitely was telling the truth, he loved your smell, your natural scent, he wanted to savor it as you were so close to his nose, but he knew later tonight he’d be able to when you invite him sleep with you tonight.

Because that’s what you always do.

“Drink this.” He gave you a cup with water and a lot of ice—-just how you like it. You already downed the water in two big gulps, feeling the ice liquid flow all inside your chest granted you a perk of energy to want to take a bath, Sanji insisted you sit for a moment before doing so.

You sat in silence looking at the half eating cup of ice with your mind wandering somewhere else, you don’t even know what you’re thinking about, there was no noise beside the clashing of dishes being tossed from tonight’s dinner. You didn’t eat much because you and Zoro we’re going to train right after, you regret the decision now as you felt your tummy growl. You didn’t want to eat so late though…but fuck it why not you worked your butt off tonight and you knew your Prince would be more than happy to give you something to eat.

“Ji…” Almost as if he read your mind (or heard your stomach) he placed a bowl of your favorite fruit in front of you. He presented it in his waiterly and gentleman like fashion throwing a small wink at you when you look back up at him.

“If you’re still hungry i can make you a smoothie.” He turned to finish cleaning the counter of the slight mess he made from the fruit remnants. “You should eat something light after a workout. Also I’ll kick that moss head’s ass later for going too hard on you. I heard you both yelling from here…asshole never knows how to treat a lady.”

You huff a giggle at his last remark with half the piece of the refreshing fruit in your mouth before chewing. This was so much better than what you were going to ask for and Sanji knew it. You felt the juices squirt out of your mouth once you swallowed your last piece and wanted to thank your favorite cook for such a filling and sweet post workout meal.

“Ji…” You nearly moan out to get his attention completely, he turns around with his same love struck face, but it’s more subdued and a tinge of red on his cheeks. He noticed the light mess on your lips dripped down your chin and hurried to your aid with a paper towel to hand you. Instead of using that to wipe your face you grabbed the cook’s cheeks to give him a wet sloppy kiss in return.

You always liked the idea of him cleaning you up.

His eyes were shot open wide for a moment not registering how quick you were , but they then rolled back feeling your cold wet lips touch his, he returned the favor of the kiss to sucking the rest of the juice off your mouth. You usually never go far as to a peck on his cheek or a few peppered kisses but tonight Sanji damn near couldn’t take it he wanted to taste you. Surprisingly you didn’t push back when he furthered the kiss. Both of his arms keeping steady with holding both the back of your chair and the edge of the table bent over.

Sanji moaned in your mouth and you only had half a second to decide but you slid your tongue inside the small opening almost as if you were pushing your way through and explored his mouth. It tasted like cigarettes and something sweet mixed with the fruit you just ate. It was a weird combination, but it’s taste was addictive.

In that moment Sanji felt like he died and went straight to Heaven, your lips were still so soft and moisturized and he nearly felt embarrassed you were doing all the work, because you were the only woman to ever kiss him. He was weak to you and he wanted nothing more than to be used by you—whatever you wanted to do to Vinsmoke Sanji you were granted the pleasure of doing so.

“More…” His voice was cracked and nearly whining when you pulled back, you came back to his lips when he grabbed you with both hands on your cheeks to finish what you started. “More..”

“Sanji i—…mmmph!!” He barely let you breathe he NEEDED more of you to taste. In the back of your head you knew this probably shouldn’t have been a good idea. You knew Sanji, you knew he was touched starved, and you knew eventually your toying with him would get you in trouble.

“Sanji Wait!” You Held his shoulders back to breath out a chuckle, you looked up at his face and he had that same goofy love struck grin with blood now smeared on his cheek. You both were panting when Sanji kneeled in between your thighs not looking away at you, almost as if he were begging. You never had a man so…needy for you before, but somehow…it was a turn on? No. Couldn’t be. You only had sex once before with an old tatted pirate captain in your past and he was very dominant causing you to be the one begging. But this? …

“What are you Doing, Sanji?” Your Voice nearly teasing as your hands were cupping his cheeks rubbing the wetness of it.

“I…please…please do what you want…to me.”

Good thing you like trouble.

Part 2

#one piece smut #sanjionepiece #TimikosSanji #sanji imagine #one piece headcanons #sanji smut #sanji x black reader #sanji x reader #black reader #sanji #one piece #one piece scenario #one piece imagine #one piece x female reader #one piece x black!reader #x female reader #female reader #black foot sanji

[outtherecreations]

Heyysyehehekssidj ok so I was obsessed with your Yakko fics and then I saw you accept requests for Bender from futurama!

So I was wondering if I could request a Bender x Reader where she’s a robot but she looks like a human and bender has feelings for her but doesn’t want to seem robosexual. Then planet express go to deliver something and she gets injured and people freak out and she’s just like I’m fine? And bender worries so much he confesses

Sorry for rambling I’ll go now

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts forever (oops). Well, since the new season is out, might as well post this now.

To Love a Human (that’s really a robot):

A high pitched roar could be heard from a box in Fry’s lap. Bender, Fry, and I stare at the box with wide eyes “So…what are we delivering again?” I ask nervously. “We’re not allowed to ask questions.” Leela sighs “Does it have to be in my lap?” Fry asks “That is a question. What did I just say?” Leela asks “But that’s a question!” Fry huffs.

“…Well, I’m captain. I can do what I want.” Leela says with a shrug. I giggle quietly, turning my attention to Fry “Sorry, but you were the last one on the ship. And the last one’s gotta be the one that’s in the most danger.” I state, Fry only sulks in his seat before the box rattles and shakes. Fry frowns nervously and grumbles to himself, I scoot away from him and a little closer to Bender.

I accidentally brush my elbow against him, “Watch it, Meatbag.” Bender says, glaring at me a little. I smile faintly and back off a little “Heh, sorry Bendy.” I snort, Bender looks away with his arms crossed. It’s always funny how he calls me Meatbag. The ship becomes quiet, the only sounds were the high pitched roars from the box. We yelp when the ship comes to an abrupt stop, “Leela! Ease up on the brakes, you’re just making it angrier.” Fry whispers.

The box shakes harshly and growls erupted from it, Bender and I move away from Fry. “Sorry, but it is too quiet in this ship. It’s distracting.” Leela sighs, the ship starts to move again “Wait, aren’t you always saying how us being to loud is distracting?” I ask, “Knock it off with the questions.” Leela huffs. I laugh a little, “I hope we’re almost there, Fry looks like he’s about to pee his pants.” I state, hoping to get a better response.

“We should be there in…3 hours.” Leela announces. Fry whimpers while Bender and I groan “Boo…” I sigh, Bender pulls out a beer and starts to chug it down. I look at him, he glances at me “Want one?” He asks “I want one.” Fry says “Shut it, you.” Bender says firmly. “Yeah, I’ll take beer. It’s been too long since I’ve had one anyway.” I state. Bender tosses me a beer and we both drink in sync. And funnily enough, burp in sync.

~Small Time Skip~

Fry lets out another nervous sigh, that’s all he had been doing that the past hour. “Lee, please tell me we’re almost there!” I groan. She hums, looking down at the map “Mm…it should be…” Leela gasps and quickly slams on the brakes. My eyes widen when the box goes flying out of Fry’s lap “Oh crap.” Bender says with wide eyes. The box opens, revealing a small white creature with pink eyes, “That’s what was making all that noise?” Leela gasps.

She stares at it in awe, “Wow…that doesn’t look scary at all. Fry was whining for nothing!” Bender groans “Looks can be deceiving.” I hum, elbowing Bender playfully. Leela slowly reaches for the creature “How can something so cute be so dangerous?” She coos.

The creature growls at her, sparking and glowing. “Whoa! I don’t think you should touch it Leela, he looks dangerous.” Fry says, frowning nervously. “How do you know it’s a he? It could be a she for all we know. Don’t assume pronouns, Fry.” I say with playful seriousness “Yeah!” Bender shouts, slapping Fry. “Owwww.” Fry whines.

I laugh, earning a grin from Bender. Fry rubs his cheek and rolls his eyes. “You two need to get a room.” I just giggle more while Bender starts to panic “What are you trying to say? Let me tell you, I like my women with a metal p-” “Alright! You don’t need to go into detail.” Fry says quickly. The creature continues to hiss at Leela. It’s eye twitches as it lets out a high pitched growl, “Um, Lee, I think French Fry is right…” I warn.

Fry, Bender, and I all watch carefully as Leela reaches towards the creature “I don’t know what you guys are freaking out about. This little creature is probably scared. Y/N, you’d be growling too if you were trapped in a box.” Leela says “Thank you for bringing up my claustrophobia…” I laugh weakly with a nervous grin. The creature’s growls only worsen the closer Leela’s hand gets.

Leela gently strokes the creature’s ear, it purrs for a moment. “See, look at that. It’s harmless.” She coos, she wraps her hands around the creature to pick it up-and it bite her. “Ow!” She yelps, dropping the creature. It yelps and growls, sparks start to surround it. “Oh crap.” Bender sighs, he and Fry back away slowly.

The sparks worsen, effecting the lights of the ship. “Um, maybe we should put it back in its box.” I suggest “I say with throw it out the wind-OW!” Fry yelps when the creature shocks him. Leela looks at the creature with a nervous pout as she back away too. “Ok…anyone want to get it back in its box?” She asks, we all share silent glances. “I nominate Bender.” Leela states seriously “WHAT?!” Bender shouts

“You’re a robot, the sparks won’t hurt you…that much.” Leela states, Bender crosses his arms “Why should I risk my shiny, metal *ss for your fleshy, squishy-” “I’ll do it.” I say, picking up the box. “Wait-Y/N, you can’t just-” “Too late I’m doing it.” I say confidently. Everyone shares a concern look, Leela and Fry back away a little “Be careful, Y/N. You don’t want to hurt it.” Leela whispers.

Bender scoffs at her, “I say hurt it before it hurts us. Don’t be stupid, Y/N, it’d really suck if you died. If you die, I’m killing the other two.” He states nonchalantly, Leela glares at him and Fry frowns nervously, everyone watches me-the whole ship was quiet. I lunge towards the creature, trapping it in the box. Fry and Bender cheer, the box starts to glow. I stare at the box with wide eyes. We go quiet again, Leela frowns nervously “Y/N, you might wanna-”

I shield my face from the bright explosion.

S Y S T E M S H U T T I N G D O W N…

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

R E B O O T I N G…

.

.

.

.

R E B O O T I N G…

.

.

.

.

P O W E R I N G UP…

.

.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

S Y S T E M B A C K O N L I N E.

My eyes open, I look around the room. I lay on the floor, “I can’t believe it. She’s dead!” Fry says “That wasn’t my fault…it wasn’t!” Leela snaps with a panicked tone, Fry flinches “No one said it was your fault…” He says, trying to calm her “Well…I’m just making sure everyone knows it…” Leela sighs, looking down sadly. The creature is box in its box, and this time, it's taped shut.

Where’s-

Bender hovers over my body, his eyes were shut. “Look here, Y/N, I know I’ve never said it but you’re my favorite of all the Meatbags on this stinking crew. If things were different I would’ve definitely…” Bender sighs “Um, Bendy?” I mumble. “Great! Now that regret is gonna haunt me forever! I’m already hearing her ghostly voice! It’s still so sweet and innocent! That’s it, now I’m really killing the other two!” Bender shouts, backing away from me.

I sit up, “Guys.” I say. Bender tenses and slowly turns to me, he lets out some unintelligible noises before falling on his butt “You’re alive?” Leela asks in shock “Um, yeah…why wouldn’t I be?” I ask. “You were electrocuted then your eyes went black.” Leela says nervously “Are you a zombie now? If you are, you should think about going vegan.” Fry says, hiding behind Leela.

“Oh, I’m not a zombie. I didn’t die, I just short circuited.” I tell them. It’s quiet for a moment, “What?” I ask, breaking the silence “Short circuited?” Leela repeats. “Yeah.” I say, everyone just stares in shock “I am a robot after all. It’s not really that surprising.” I snort “Oh yeah it is!” Fry shouts. “If your a robot, why do you look so…fleshy?” Leela asks.

I look at my hand, pinching the fake skin, “I was a prototype for a new generation of humanoid robots Mom was working on, but she got super frustrated with one of her sons and set all her progress on fire. I was luckily able to get out before dying a fiery death.” I tell everyone, there's a pause. “Oh, that makes sense…” Leela says, staring at me blankly.

“So, you’re not going to eat us?” Fry asks carefully, “Ew, no. Humans taste disgusting, trust me, I know.” I snort “What?” Fry asks, blinking at my statement. Bender quickly stands up, “You-you-you mean all this time…-I thought you were a Meatbag like the rest of them!” Bender says, grabbing my shoulder and shaking me. “Well I’m not, Bendy.” I chuckle, Bender lets go of my shoulders.

Bender stares at me with wide eyes, “You mean I’m not a robose-” Bender pauses “A what?” I ask in confusion. Bender lets out a frustrated sound, "Go out with me!" He says firmly, I look at him in surprise before giggling "Yeah, ok." I say, Bender looks slightly taken aback. "Ok...good. Come on." He says, hooking his arm with mine and walking toward the exit of the ship, "Where are you two going? We haven't finished our delivery!" Leela calls "I'm not doing anything until I know what Y/N's shiny, metal *ss looks like!" Bender shouts, he pick me up and jumps out the ship.

#reader insert #x reader #futurama #bender #leela futurama #bender futurama #fry futurama #bender x reader #request #i’m tired #i worked hard on this #Phillip fry #this took too long #futurama bender x reader

[newtonsheffield]

So obviously we're going to need a spicy sunday of the parent trap au kate and anthony having sex for the first time after they re-meet

Oh bless them. After nearly six years they’re definitely a little handsy. We have to remember that they’re also still only like… 27.

Kate could feel Anthony behind her, feel the tension prickling down her spine as his hand settled on her hip, pulling her back against his chest.

“They’re happy.”

His voice was deep, tickling her ear, the gentle hum of it bringing goosebumps to her arms as she nodded. “It’s probably not great parenting from us to put them in the same bed.”

Anthony chuckled, his arms tightening possessively around her waist. “Tomorrow I’ll get them bunk beds. That’s clearly what they’re angling for. If they want to share a room instead of Miles having the spare room, I’m fine with it.”

Kate nodded, the enormity of the afternoon, this night, settling in her shoulders. She wasn’t leaving London at all. There was still so much to settle and yet none of it seemed to matter. Selling the house in Bristol, bringing all of their things here, none of that seemed to matter. All that mattered was Anthony, with his arm wrapped around her, moulding their lives back together again.

“To be honest, he’s probably gonna need one of the spare rooms for all of his things anyway.” Kate hummed, spinning in his arms to look in his eyes.

He looked older than the day she’d left, his jaw more angular and his beard full now, rather than the stubble he’d left when they’d first met. He’d already taken his glasses off but they made him seem more mature, sensible and settled and grown. This version of Anthony was confident in who he was, he;d processed his grief and come out the other side, confident and focused on his growth, and his son. Their son. And something about that drew her in even more. Everything she’d loved about him was still there. His odd, stiff, sense of humour and his smile was just the same, boyish and charming. He was such a nurturer at heart, he always was and it was the unashamed way he showed it that had lead her to accept the proposal of a 20 year old boy as they stood on the dock, a cruise ship behind them.

“Hey, do you want to marry me?!”

She’d gaped at him then, “What?!”

He shrugged, grinning at her with his shirt unbuttoned and his bare chest shining int he sun. “I’m so in love with you, and I think this could be incredible. Marry me.”

“Yes.”

“So, I’ve also been thinking, that second little sitting room downstairs might make a nice little writer’s den.” Anthony was grinning at her now, his eyes shining, “I’m thinking like dark academia vibes. Huge big desk, leather sofa floor to ceiling bookshelves. We can pick it out tomorrow!”

Kate’s stomach fluttered, “That… sounds really nice actually.”

“I know it does! The smell of tobacco hanging in the air. Give it a bit of gravitas.”

“I don’t smoke?” Kate chuckled, “Have you taken up the habit?”

He rolled his eyes, “No, I was thinking a candle.”

“You… know about candle scents now?”

Anthony preened, his lips brushing hers. “I know about all sorts of things now.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.” He pressed against her until she was sandwiched lightly between his body and the wall. “Do you want to talk about how much I know about laundry now? That’s very impressive. Neddy’s little socks are always ironed.”

“I don’t want to talk about laundry.” There was an ache in her chest now, spreading through her entire body at the press of him against her.

“No?” Something dark flashed in his eyes and his lips brushed gently against hers, “Do you want to talk about what a good cook I am now? I’ve taken a lot of classes.”

“I don’t want to talk about that now either.” She let herself relax against him as her lips found his again.

It felt so different, and yet familiar, the press of of his lips against hers. His hands tightened on her waist and pressed her impossibly closer to his chest as their lips moved together and heat built slowly between them. His lips were a little rough and his beard scratched against her skin and it made her spine shiver against him. Anthony let out a low moan at the feel of her tongue against hers. Kate felt her hands twist themselves in the front of his sweater and she tugged him forward until his entire body was pressed against her.

Anthony’s hand slid to her thighs and he tugged her legs around his waist and she heard her own moan echo in the corridor.

“Fuck.” Anthony let out a sharp groan and his hips ground against her, “We shouldn’t have sex outside our twins’ bedroom.”

Kate nodded, but she squeezed her thighs around his waist and her breath came in sharp pants, “Right, we’re responsible parents now. We can’t have sex in the hallway anymore.”

He let out a gasp, and his eyes darkened and she knew he was remembering just the same way she was , “That was a good night though.”

“It was a very good night.”

He let out a grunt as he pushed off the wall and carried her down the hallway, fumbling at the door of the bedroom that had once been hers as well as his. The room that would be hers again. They burst through the door and it slammed shut behind them.

“Do you want the boys to wake up?!” Kate hissed a giggle rising in her throat as Anthony dropped her against the mattress as he tripped over her suitcase left at the end of the bed earlier. “Quiet.”

Anthony looked up at her through the hair falling in his eyes, “Sorry, I never like… done this with my kids down the hall.”

“Me either but I know enough not to wake them up.” Kate chuckled, tugging him forward by the waistband of his jeans.

Anthony leant over her, his knee nudging her thighs apart as his lips found hers again, rougher and deeper this time as his weight settled over her. She let out a loud moan helplessly and her hips bucked up against his before he pulled back, grinning at her. “I thought you said we were being quiet.”

Kate rolled her eyes, tugging his sweater over his head and then her own. His wedding ring and hers were hanging on a chain around his neck just as they had been a few weeks ago when she’d found herself pressed against his wet chest and her stomach had dropped and her body had seemed to remember exactly what to do. Exactly what it would feel like as she moved above him, under him. She hadn’t let herself do what she wanted to then but she let herself do it now. She let herself smile at him and slide the finger of her left hand through the ring and tug gently until his neck bowed to the pressure and his lips found hers again with a desperate moan.

There was a desperate fumble as the kiss deepened between them and Anthony shed the rest of their clothes until there was nothing left between them. He stared down at her, his eyes shining at her, a smile on his lips.

“You’re so beautiful.”

It settled in her chest and she let her fingers run through his hair. “I love you.”

His smile was so beautiful, “I love you too. Always did.”

Their moans mingled together as their lips met again and the rest of their bodies did as well. Anthony’s forehead fell against hers and his eyes screwed shut. A muscle clenched in his jaw as their hips rocked together slowly.

Oh Holy Fuck Kate.

She nodded against him, beyond words as their bodies met again and again and her hand stayed twisted in the chain around his neck holding them together. Heat was licking at her stomach already, warmth spreading deliciously through her as Anthony kept the steady rhythm between them. Anthony’s cheeks flushed and sweat slicked their bodies. This too felt familiar and different, the angles of his body different but not unsettlingly, it felt comforting, a sign of the growth they’d both gone through and yet they’d found each other again.

Her pleasure built slowly and yet it still caught her off guard as she tumbled over the edge, her body shivering gently against his but Anthony didn’t stop. His hands found her waist and legs tangled with hers minced quickly, rolling them until she was settled on top of him. Her shoulders heaved and her legs shook a little with the exertion as Anthony’s hands tightened on her hips.

“That move used to be your favourite.”

Anthony grinned at her, settled against the pillows smugly, one hand pressed against her stomach the other guiding her. “I still like it. The view is… still stunning.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t have it in her to say anything else as she tossed her hair back, bracing one hand behind her and snapping her hips down against him. Anthony let out a tortured moan and his eyes rolled back and they lost themselves in the rhythm again, moving faster and faster. She could see the red marks her fingernails were leaving on his chest, see the diamond ring shining on her hand and something in her chest burned for it, for Anthony. She could feel the heat of his body against hers, the roughness of his hands and the tension in the room was stifling and she felt her muscles coiling tighter again. Tighter and tighter. She felt Anthony’s legs start to shake under her and his hips bucked erratically. His hand tightened on the back of her neck, tugging until their lips met roughly, teeth clashing as they fell apart together.

Anthony’s arms crushed her to his chest as their bodies shook and sweat cooled between them, the smell of them hanging in the air.

“I missed you.”

Kate nodded, kissing his neck gently. “I love you.”

Anthony let out a content little noise, his eyes screwed shut. “I think I should keep the chain. You like that.”

Her laugh echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls. “It’s a bit sexy. I like sexy Dad Anthony.”

He opened one eye, scratching his beard, “Jesus, wait until you see my Birkenstocks.”

“Oh. Be still my beating heart.”

#parent trap au #you’re losing me au #spicy sunday🌶️ #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Lighthouse keeper, huh?”

Keith watches Shiro’s face carefully, because he’s not sure what to expect. Not anger — Shiro doesn’t do angry, not with Keith — but not exactly excitement, either. He’s not sure.

Shiro sighs, hanging his head. He doesn’t speak or move for several moments, only staring at his clasped ands, jaw set. Keith remains where he is, leaning against the bookshelf covered in stickers placed carefully by six-year old Keith, ugly as sin but impossible for sentimental Shiro to throw out.

Shiro braces his hands on his knees, sighing again as he heaves himself up and walks over to Keith. He cups Keith’s face in his hands and leans their foreheads together.

“Why do you always have to choose the least safe option, huh, kiddo?” His voice is a mix of tired and fond; strained and loving.

Keith shrugs. His hands tighten on Shiro’s shirt. “That’s what you did.”

The remark makes Shiro crack a smile.

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

“Tyrant,” Keith says. The familiar tease — remnant from when Keith was younger and angrier and fought every choice Shiro made for him, regardless of whether it was the right one — makes Shiro huff a laugh, pressing a kiss to Keith’s forehead before pulling away.

“You have to promise to call me every week, okay? At least once. Lighthouses get lonely.”

“Okay,” Keith says quietly.

“And get decent groceries when you go out. Vegetables. Lots of them.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t do anything stupid, like go swimming in an icy ocean at night to chase a cryptid or something.”

Keith smiles a little. “No promises.”

Shiro sighs again, but it’s not as heavy this time. This time there’s an edge of acceptance to it.

“Just — be safe, kiddo. I can’t lose you, too.”

“Okay,” Keith says again, and he means it.

———

Lighthouse keeper. Lighthouse keeper.

What an insane job.

Is Keith qualified for it, technically? No. Not even a little bit. But after a little resume-fudging — okay, a lot of straight-up lying — and a myriad of people refusing to come near the lighthouse they swore was haunted, Keith landed the job.

“Look, it’s kind of isolating, okay?” says the coast guard, pressing a massive ring of keys into his hand. “Like, it’s not a hard job, really, except for during storms. You mostly just get to chill and check on the bulb every once in a while. But it can get…lonely.” She cuts him a sideways glance. “You know the story?”

Vaguely.

Keith shrugs.

“This used to be a real popular port,” she says. “People landing day and night, every day of the year. Used to be people manning the light every second of every day, groups of six or seven living here at once, like one big family. But then we shifted from using coal to using all that renewable shit, and the port stopped being so popular ‘cause there were less ships out to this area. Employees dwindled to just one guy, here by himself, every day of the year for decades.”

She pauses for a moment, drumming her hand on her car door. Keith pretends to be way less intrigued than he is.

“He went mad,” she says quietly. “No wifi or anything in the 60s, you know. Not a damn thing to do. He said he fell in love with the moon. Refused to retire, to resign. Stayed up in that tower until he was way too old to be manning it. Died in one of the storms ‘cause he was just to frail to be out in those elements, y’know? But he wouldn’t leave the damn place behind. People say he never really left — that his ghost haunts the place. That’s why it’s been abandoned for so long.”

She shrugs, somber look melting off her face as quickly as it came. “Well, I’m sure it’s all shit, anyway. You’ll be fine. Good luck!”

Before Keith can so much as utter a single ‘hey, what the fuck’, she ducks into her car, slamming the door and speeding down the gravel driveway.

“Well, goodbye,” Keith mutters, shaking his head and walking down the cobblestone path to the door. “Thanks for that.”

Ghost, huh?

That sure as hell wasn’t on any of the waivers he signed.

He hopes it’s not an angry ghost.

———

Turns out Shirt had nothing to worry about. Keith keeps a radio on him once it gets dark, making his way up to the light when he gets word of a ship coming near, just to make sure everything’s okay. He doesn’t really do much except watch the sea, basically. He supposes he’ll be a lot busier in a giant storm or if something breaks, but as of right now, his biggest trouble is boredom.

And oh, what a trouble it is.

Turns out manning a lighthouse is boring as shit. 24 hours is a lot of goddamn time in the day, and there’s only so many times Keith can scroll through his phone or read a book before he goes insane. It’s almost never worth the gas money to drive into town, and besides he doesn’t know anyone, so mostly he just sits and mopes out the window or skips rocks along the shoreline (his current record is 20 skips in a row, which would be cool as shit of the every second of every day didn’t feel so blah). Even the calls with Shiro are too mundane to pique his interest — his brother’s life isn’t too exciting, either, although talking with Shiro still has its enjoyment.

There is something magical about the stillness of everything, though. Like, yeah, Keith would love it if he could maybe experience something that was even a little interesting, but he’s felt more peace in the past few months than he has his entire life.

(Not that that’s saying much.)

(But, still.)

He particularly likes sitting out on the balcony by the light once the sun has set, watching the stars. It’s gotten warm enough now that he can sit out for hours without getting cold, just watching the stars. He’s so far away from any city that he can see what feels like every star in existence.

The moon, though, is the most breathtaking of anything. Somehow it looks more breathtaking every night. This far out on the coastline Keith can see it with startling clarity, every dip and crater and crevice glowing a soft silver. Sometimes Keith is so captivated by it that he watches it from sunset to sunrise, feeling like barely an hour has passed.

It makes Keith feel a little less lonely, somehow. Like maybe his heart doesn’t hurt so bad.

———

Keith wakes up at two in the afternoon feeling strangely pleased.

It’s not because he slept in, or anything — he usually wakes up at around two, since he’s up all night manning the light — or even that his sleep was particularly restful. He doesn’t know why he feels so…excited? Maybe that’s not the right word. But he goes through the day feeling all floaty, humming as he cleans up his living space and dancing around as he makes food. The air buzzes with anticipation, although for what he’s not sure.

Closer tonight.

Keith freezes.

Huh?

He waits a moment, hands still int the soapy water. What was that? That was a strangely…foreign thought. What’s closer tonight? What does that even mean?

He shakes himself out of his stillness when he realises the water has started to go cold, continuing to scrub the dishes. Whatever. He has weird, intrusive thoughts all the time. It’s nothing new.

Full moon. Closer to Earth.

“Okay, what the fuck.”

Keith drops the dishes, yanking his hands out of the sink and taking a stumbling step back, stopping when he backs into the fridge. His wet hands drip onto the tile floor, steady plop sounds, one for every heavy inhale.

“Okay,” he tells himself, “I am going to dry my hands and then sit down on the couch. I am going to remain still for twenty minutes. If I hear a weird thought again, I am going to freak out. If not, I am going to assume my brain is trying to freak me out to make things more interesting, and I am going to dismiss this entirely.”

Twenty minutes later, when no weird thought occurs, Keith sighs in relief.

God, how bored must he be, for his brain to make up weird voices or whatever? Maybe he should take up another hobby.

Knit, or something.

Can’t hurt.

———

“Did you get lonely a lot, when you were deployed?”

Shiro hums; tinny through the shitty cell reception.

“Yeah, lots. There were a lot of long stretches where I felt like I might be the only person in the world. Made everything feel smaller. Why do you ask? You getting lonely?”

“Just curious,” Keith denies. He pauses a moment.

“Did you ever hear…voices?”

As soon as he says it, he knows he’s fucked up. The comfortable silence between them gets charged immediately, tense, and they may be hundreds of miles apart but Keith can physically feel the concerned look Shiro is sporting.

“Keith, maybe you should call a doc —”

“It’s not me,” Keith says hastily. “I’m just — I read a lot now, right? I don’t have much else to do. And I was reading one of the manuals lying around this place, and it said that if you experience any strange mental symptoms to switch out shifts, but I was just curious about what strange mental symptoms might be, I’m not actually —”

“Okay,” Shiro interrupts. “It’s fine. I believe. Just — stay safe, okay? Don’t be afraid to call for help, to call it quits. We can always figure out what to do next.”

Keith takes a deep breath, running his hands through his hair and smiling slightly. No matter what, he can count on Shiro.

“Okay.”

“Good. Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you, too.”

———

Keith squints at the sky. He tilts his head, considering, then squints harder.

“Maybe I am going crazy,” he says to himself. He hasn’t heard any weird voices since that one time, but he’s been feeling a lot of weird things in his chest, near his heart. For two weeks the night sky has felt almost…distant? Cold, even. But then he started to feel this growing pull to be outside more and more, the strong desire to stand and stare out at sea during the day, swaying with the waves, and to stare endlessly at the sky at night, drinking in the sights, watching the moon turn through it’s phases. The feeling is almost suffocating, now, like if he’s not outside he’s incapable of breathing. Everything feels so restless during the day, soothed only by the light of the moon.

“Or maybe I’m just dead bored. Who knows.”

———

Finally.

The voice startles him right out of a nap, tumbling off the couch onto a heap on the floor. He blinks himself awake fully, blearily checking his watch. His eyes widen.

“Shit,” he says, scrambling to his bedroom to grab his radio and sprinting up the stairs to the light. He’s late. He doesn’t seem to have missed any calls, thankfully, but still, he needs to be up there in case a ship’s radio is broken and they can’t call, or what if —

He freezes on the top step.

“What the fuck.”

Elbows on the balcony railing, leaning out facing the ocean, is a man. He’s tall, curly brown hair whipping around his angular face in the sea breeze, eyes closed in serenity.

Every part of him, faintly, glows silver.

“Took your sweet time,” he says, not opening his eyes. His voice is strangely familiar.

“What the fuck,” Keith repeats. He’s not sure how else to encompass the pure bewilderment he’s feeling.

Finally the man turns slightly to face him, lips curled in amusement and eyes opening to reveal a deep, dark brown that sparkles faintly in the moonlight.

“You’re supposed to be here when the sun sets, yes?”

Keith hums, nodding his head.

“Yep. I’ve officially gone insane.”

The man laughs, head thrown back and teeth gleaming white.

“Perhaps. Are madmen always so eloquently charming?”

“Figments of my imagination are not allowed to be mocking,” Keith snaps, because if he’s going to go insane it’s going to be on his terms, goddamnit.

“Good thing I have nothing to do with your imagination, then,” the man shoots back easily. He smirks. “You couldn’t come up with something as pretty as me if you tried.”

Keith scoffs, but doesn’t deny it. Figures that his brain would cook up a bratty loudmouth with a bright smile to torture him. He’s his own worst enemy.

“I’m going to ignore you,” Keith informs the man. “If I don’t acknowledge you, then my brain will get the message and you’ll disappear.”

The man pouts. “Don’t be so callous. I only have three days, and then I’ll not see you again for a month.”

Keith ignores him. This lighthouse gig is kind of boring, sure, and yeah, he’s a little lonely, but it pays well and includes room and board. There’s not a chance in hell that he’s succumbing to his insanity and returning to fucking retail, or something, no sirree. He’s stubborn. He can wait this out.

The man sighs petulantly. “Of course you’re boring,” he mutters. “The last Moon Guardian got to fall in love with the lightkeeper, and I get someone who can scarcely believe I’m real. How unjust.”

The last lightkeeper… what was it the coast guard had said?

He said he fell in love with the moon…stayed up in that tower until he was too old to be manning it. Died in one of the storms.

“Oh, real original, brain,” he mutters to himself. “Real fuckin’ original, with the Hollywood spooky stuff. I need to stop watching horror movies before bed.”

“Ugh,” the man says, rolling his eyes. “You’re stubborn, aren’t you? I bet you will refuse to even acknowledge me for months or even years. I should have chosen to guard one of Venus’ moons when ‘Llura gave me the chance.”

“Nope,” Keith says, waking to the other side of the balcony. If his brain is going to torment him with ridiculousness, then he is not going to listen.

He’ll just wait it out.

———

For the eight hours of sundown, he manages. He keeps stubbornly away from the hallucination, ignoring the man’s huffing and puffing and muttering, firmly telling himself that he’s just overtired and that he’ll sleep in extra tomorrow morning so this won’t happen again. The very second the sun peeks above the horizon, Keith books it for the staircase, rushing for the door before the hallucination can so much as mutter a word. He runs straight to his bed and sleeps for sixteen straight hours, completely dead to the world. When he wakes, he convinces himself to check the balcony, and is relieved to find the man gone.

“See?” he reassures himself. “Just sleep deprived.”

He believes it all the way until sundown, when he jovially makes the climb up to the light, whistling to himself, only to trail into silence when the man stands there again, smiling smugly at him.

“Good evening,” he says.

Keith throws a book at his face.

———

“I despise you,” the man says nasally, glaring at Keith through bruised eyes.

Keith winces, dabbing blood off the man’s nose as delicately as he can with a damp cloth.

“Sorry,” he says, as genuinely as he can. “I really did think the book was going to go through you. How was I to know that you’re — well, that you’re real?”

“Because I told you!” the man cries. “Thrice!”

Keith huffs, stepping back as the man wrestles the cloth from his hands and starts to wipe the blood off himself. “Well, I said I was sorry, okay? Jesus.”

The man glares at him one more time before sighing. “I suppose I can forgive you.”

“Cool.” Keith shifts awkwardly. “Um, not to be rude, but who the hell are you? Now that I know you’re not my brain, it’s kind of super weird that you’re here.”

“I have many names,” the man says. “Luna, Alqamar, Dal. Moon. But the other Guardians call me Lance, so perhaps that is the name most suitable.”

“Okay,” Keith says, like this isn’t lunacy. “So you’re not just some random dude? You’re, like, the — moon? In the fucking sky?”

“Our spirits are one, yes.”

“Mhm. Great. That cleared up nothing.”

The man — Lance — raises an amused eyebrow. “What more must be made clear to you, Lightkeeper? The Moon and I are one. I am he who guards her, I am her. Is that so confusing?”

“You must know that it is,” Keith says flatly. “Like, up until right this second, I though the moon was a lifeless rock floating in the sky.”

“You’ve never felt the pull?” Lance asks softly. “Your kind has built your culture on her. Every one of you worships her in some way, ever group looks to her with some kind of fondness. You truly did not feel any of her pull, of her power? The power of any of the celestia? Have you not looked up and felt the breath knocked from your lungs?”

“I have,” Keith admits. Lance is right — the moon has always has spirit. Keith just didn’t think it was so literal.

“Good,” Lance says firmly. “There is hope for you yet, Lightkeeper.”

“Keith.”

“Hm?”

“That’s my name,” Keith says awkwardly. “Keith.”

“Oh!” Lance exclaims. He smiles, just as he did the first time Keith saw him, faint silver glow making him appear ethereal. “It’s good to meet you, Keith.”

Keith cracks a smile. This is weird as hell, sure — but didn’t Keith ask for something interesting to happen?

“It’s good to meet you too, Lance.”

———

“A friend?”

“Yep,” Keith says, popping the p. “All by myself and everything.”

“That’s great!” Shiro says enthusiastically. “How did you meet? Is he working for the lighthouse too, or does he work in town?”

“He’s a…traveller,” Keith says hesitantly. “Yeah. Only here three nights of the month, so I let him crash and we hang out.”

It’s as much of a truth as any. Keith has learned over the last few months that Lance can only come to Earth when the moon is closest — when it’s ‘full’.

“Your human denominations make no sense,” Lance argued. “I am always full, I’m just simply not always facing you. What is a ‘new moon’? I never change.”

Keith shrugged. “Do I look like I named the damn phases? People didn’t always get that, man. You looked like a crescent, you were called a crescent. Simple!”

“But you have advanced! You know the truth, now, so why keep the archaic language?”

“Lance. Dude. I am a lighthouse-keeper, and I made up all sorts of shit to get this job. I am not an astronomer.”

“Ugh. Humans perplex me.”

“Okay, mythical being.”

“…but I’m glad you’re not so lonely,” Shiro continues, snapping Keith out of his thoughts. “I was worried for a while there, kiddo.”

Keith snorts. “Thanks, Shiro.”

“Hey, don’t give me that! You have a tendency to get yourself into sticky situations and then make it worse by stubbornly refusing to back out while you can!”

“I do not,” Keith says, lying.

“Mhm, sure, kiddo. And I didn’t have to rescue you from a cult two separate times.”

“Whatever,” Keith says, scowling. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Yeah, yeah, goober.”

As much as Keith hates to admit it, life really does improve between Lance’s visits and Shiro’s calls. Both give him something solid to look forward too, and Lance’s visits especially often give him the element of physical touch that Keith didn’t realise he was missing.

Not that he’ll admit that.

But it’s nice, kind of. Even though Lance’s skin kind of feels like cool marble, and every time they hug it’s like the warmth is leeched out of him.

Not that they hug a lot.

Well, kind of. Lance is a touchy person. Moon Guardian.

Whatever.

———

“How does the guardian thing, like, work? In terms of science?”

Lance shrugs. “I haven’t the faintest clue,” he says easily. “My friend — he’s the Guardian of Phobos — he has a much clearer idea. It has something to do with quintessence, he supposes.”

“Quintessence?”

“Life force. Energy. The pieces that make up atoms.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that had a name.”

“Everything does. That’s why it exists.”

“Huh.” Keith sits with that for a moment. Not that he ever probably could, but he’d love to explain this to Shiro, to watch his nerd brain explode. It would be hilarious. “So do you guys just…spring to life when a new planet it formed, or something?”

“Oh, no,” Lance says, laughing. “I am only…twenty-five rotations around the sun.”

Keith raises his eyebrows. “Seriously? You’re my age?”

“Are you insinuating that I look older?” Lance teases. “Because if that’s the case, I can arrange to have you smited.”

Keith laughs.

Then he gets nervous.

Can Lance have him smited?

“No, no, you look great,” Keith says. Better safe than sorry.

“You look beautiful, really. It definitely makes sense that you’re the moon guardian, y’know? Like, if I had to picture someone who matched the moon, it would be you.”

Well.

That was certainly more than being ‘safe’.

Sometimes, Keith wishes he had even a little bit of a filter.

“You think so?” Lance asks quietly. Shyly.

“Yes,” Keith chokes out, picking a random star and praying to it that his blush fades. “I think so.”

A cold finger curls around his.

“I think you look beautiful, too.”

———

“Keith. Keith. Keith. Keith. Keith. Keith —”

“Shiro, piss off,” Keith mumbles, reaching blindly for a pillow to smack his brother with. “I’m tired.”

“Well, get up! This only happens thrice a year, and I want to make the most of it!”

Wait. Keith only knows one person — well, ‘person’ — who says thrice unironically, and it’s not Shiro.

“Lance?!” Keith yelps, startling awake. He shoots a confused look to the frankly ecstatic man before him, and then looks, even more confused, out his window. The sun is high in the sky, it can’t be more than noon.

“How are you here?”

“Supermoon!” Lance shouts excitedly. “Every four months, I am as close to Earth as I can possibly be, even closer then what you humans call a ‘full’ moon, and so I can be on Earth a full day cycle! It’s very exciting. I tried to wait for you to wake, but you slept so long. I couldn’t wait any further.”

“Ugh,” Keith groans, flipping back onto the pillows. “It’s early.”

Really, he’s as excited as Lance, but Lance can’t know that.

“Half the day has passed!” Lance argues. There’s a dip in the bed, and it’s Keith’s only warning before there’s suddenly a weight flopped on him.

“Oof.”

“You’re being exceptionally boring,” Lance says, pushing himself up on Keith’s chest to look him closely in the face. “I want to explore the town. I’ve always been too shy to go on my own. Take me, take me, take me!”

Keith fights off a blush, both from their position and Lance’s accidental innuendo.

“Okay,” he says weakly.

Lance cheers, scrambling off him and running out of the room.

“Hurry and get ready! I will try and make us breakfast — I think I understand how to use the stove!”

“Yeah, yeah.” It takes a moment for Lance’s second sentence to sink in. “Wait, Lance, no, stay away from the stove, you don’t know how fire works yet!”

———

Keith is going to collapse into particles. Really. That, or melt into goo on the ground.

It’s just that Lance is so cute.

Sure, he’s always beautiful. Ethereal, really. And he’s funny, and smart, and obviously very fascinating on principle alone.

But watching Lance flutter excitedly through the tiny coastline town, fascinated by every tiny, mundane thing?

Oh, Keith is not going to make it out of this one alive. Seriously. It’s straight out of that one scene in The Little Mermaid, except Lance is a million times more adorable, and knows what a fork is.

“Oh my stars, look at all these things! It’s all ridiculous! There’s no purpose for it! I want one of everything!”

“How do you even — wait,” Keith says, as something occurs to him. “Do you have, like, a house on the moon, or something? How do you store all your shit? Because you clearly have, like, clothes and stuff. And you understand some book references. Is there like a Celestial Guardians neighbourhood, or something…?”

“Oh, everything I have is stored with yours, only on the astral plane,” Lance says dismissively.

“Right. Okay,” Keith says. He pats Lance on the shoulder. “This would be one of those times where you say something that you think is very normal, but is actually batshit insane.”

Lance blinks. “Oh.” He pauses for a moment, tilting his head. “If you don’t know about the astral plane, it might be hard to conceptualise.”

“Let’s grab some food,” Keith suggests. Lance lights up at the suggestion, making Keith smile. Lance loves human food.

Once they’re settled at some random, tourist trap restaurant, Keith pokes Lance in the shoulder.

“Astral plane?” he prompts.

“Right,” Lance says, speaking through his bite of food which should be disgusting but is instead only endearing. “Quintessence is a very finicky thing. It exists and it doesn’t, in more places than are possible. It is, in many ways, the explanation for things that do not make sense.”

“So it’s not a specific material?”

“It is, it’s just also everything else that doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, that’s confusing.”

“Mhm. That’s what’s so fun about it! The most important parts that you need to know, though, is that every physical plane has an inphysical plane, and every single thing on those two planes are entwined on a quintessential level.”

Keith nods. “That means almost nothing to me.”

Lance laughs. “Well, think of you and me, yes? You are a human, a physical being. I am a Guardian of the Moon. I am physical only in certain ways, and only because my quintessence is tied completely with yours. We are mirrors to each other, connections to the two different worlds. Does that make sense?“

Keith stills, fork halfway to his mouth. Because, scientifically — no. Nothing about what Lance said is in any way something Keith can conceptualise.

But, like, on spiritual terms?

“That makes it sound like you’re my soulmate,” Keith says quietly.

“That’s a great way of putting it!” Lance says, smiling brightly. “Our souls are mated, yes. That’s one way of seeing it. Every part of our lives has been linked together from the moment we existed — I exist, as a Guardian, because you exist, because you are my tether to the physical plane — and will continue beyond that. Fascinating, yes?”

Keith nods numbly.

Soulmates.

For the second time since he’s met Lance, Keith thinks back to the coast guard’s story, back to the man who guarded the lighthouse and fell in love with the moon, who never retired, who stayed with the moon until his very end.

It sounds a lot less spooky, now.

———

Lance is still a bundle of energy when they finally head back to the lighthouse, sun beginning to set on the horizon.

“You’re my favourite human I know,” he says, pressing a smacking kiss to Keith’s cheek. “Thank you for taking me to the town.”

“I’m the only human you know,” Keith responds wryly, hyper aware of the spot on his cheek that Lance’s lips just touched.

Soulmates rings in his ears.

They climb the stairs in comfortable silence, lying down on the balcony next to the light and looking up contentedly at the stars.

“It looks far more wondrous on Earth,” Lance says quietly. He smiles. “Most things do.”

“Yeah?” Keith asks, just as quiet. “I would’ve thought you could see more out in space.”

“You can, but there’s something special about being down here.” He turns to face Keith. His smile has turned shy. “With you.”

Keith’s throat goes dry. He takes a deep breath, then reaches out a shaking hand, cupping it around Lance’s cheek. Lance leans into it.

“Lance,” he says, voice surprisingly steady. “Do you know what it means, for humans, to be soulmates?”

“Yes,” Lance whispers. “I was — I know what it means to me, at least. And I know what I hope it means for you.”

Slowly, Keith brushes his thumb across Lance’s cheekbone, back and forth. His skin has started to glow again, in tandem with the moon. It makes the brown of his eyes seem darker.

“What do you hope it means?”

Lance’s gaze flicks down to his lips. “That I am yours.”

“And what about me?”

“What do you want to be?”

“Yours, if you want me.”

Lance smiles, a flash of white in the darkness. “I do. I always have.”

“Always?” The words are barely a whisper, their faces so close together that their breath intermingles, tiny freckles over Lance’s nose shining like mini constellations.

“Yes,” Lance says, and then their lips finally meet, Keith’s eyes fluttering shut as he cradles the face of the Moon carefully in his hands, caresses the coolness of his skin. He breathes in the scent of his soulmate, and he knows he will go just as mad as the lightkeeper before him; desperately in love with the Moon.

Somehow, he doesn’t mind.

#been having some big feelings about celestial bodies lately if u couldn’t tell #vld #voltron #keith #keith kogane #lance #lance mcclain #klance #friends to lovers #moon god lance #lighthouse keeper keith #i’m going to go ahead and say i’m the first person to ever create this au lol #modern au #mythological au #brown-eyed lance #keith & shiro #broganes #protective shiro #my writing #fic #longpost #soulmate au

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Secret Meetings

@cilil Here is the result of so many late-night discussions...Firebird, another ship you've injected into me with a long, scary needle haha

I hope this is to your liking <3

Characters: Eönwë x Gothmog

Words: 2 410

Warnings: tension, trauma, attempted masturbation, a handjob, and an abduction, NSFW

“This is a terrible idea,” Mairon hissed, eyeing the Balrog in front of him with evident dismay. “Why would you heed the call of that feathered fool?”

Rolling his eyes, Gothmog shrugged lopsidedly; he had come to inform his superiors of his appointment, not to ask for their permission. The perimeter was safe, and all the regular guards were at the ready—there was consequently no reason for him to stay in Angband when he was needed elsewhere.

“Let him have fun,” Melkor intervened, hanging off his throne in a contortion that was both exceedingly enticing and truly alarming to his lieutenant and lover. “It’s so boring here anyway.”

“He might have important information,” Gothmog grunted, trying to save face.

“You’re going to fuck the bird—you know it, we know it, everyone except Manwë knows it,” Thuri commented in a bored tone, making Gothmog jump. He had hitherto not noticed his colleague, hanging from the rafters, and—with her in the mix—he could but accept his defeat and slink out of the fortress in mortified silence.

In his heart of hearts, he was torn—he had never actually done the deed of which they all spoke so flippantly, but it seemed easier to just let them labour under that misconception than to explain what was really going on.

In truth, he had clandestinely met Eönwë—herald to Manwë, the Relentless—more than once, and he had always been struck by three things: firstly, the bird was mouth-wateringly appetising, secondly, he was incredibly skilled in warfare, and thirdly, Eönwë was suffering from an insidious, evidently crippling kind of trauma.

Even now, Gothmog could not fully comprehend what folly had moved him to offer his help initially—he surely had never expected Eönwë to take him up on the offer—but he had always known that he would heed the call if it ever was to come.

Of course, he also did agree that it was potentially reckless and definitely dangerous to meet an avowed foe without the support and reinforcement of at least a few of his minions.

Nevertheless, he didn’t want to spook Eönwë, and so he sallied forth bravely, once again failing to realise that he was being followed by the sneaky, lethally silent bat; Thuringwethil was often exasperated by his antics, but she was also a true friend and would never have allowed him to put himself in peril without back-up.

“Bird?” Gothmog called as soon as he reached their secret rendezvous spot, hidden between forbiddingly jagged rocks and dense, dark trees. “Are you there? What’s the matter? Did the pile of shit your Master calls a tower collapse?”

He sniggered at his own joke but was startled out of his merriment by the sudden appearance of Eönwë, looking absolutely wretched. His clothes hung limply off his muscular frame as if he had been doused in water before taking off, and his sensual, full mouth was downturned and tense.

“What happened? Are you all right?” A different kind of alarm made Gothmog’s scales tingle as he took in the picture of abject misery before him.

“You are an amoral demon, right?” Eönwë asked, his voice so absurdly hopeful that Gothmog was not sure how to answer. Despite the words being undeniably insulting, it was clear that Eönwë was hoping for a confirmation.

“One might say that,” Gothmog finally replied cautiously. “Why? Are you in need of amoral deeds?”

When the winged hero merely nodded, the fire spirit almost burst into flame out of sheer confusion and astonishment.

“I am in a…tough spot,” Eönwë muttered, looking at the ground beneath his feet as if bowed by unbearable shame. “The predicament has gone on for quite some time now, and I really don’t know what to do anymore.”

On account of the considerable size difference between them, Gothmog decided to sit down on the cool, rocky ground to be less threatening—he certainly did not want to give Eönwë the impression that he was judging or patronising him for whatever absurd confession he was about to let loose.

As a matter of fact, he had heard the most nonsensical and alarming things from the winged Maia before—from letting his Vala do unspeakably questionable things to him to being afraid that someone might steal his soul if he enjoyed a kiss too much—so the Lord of Balrogs was struck dumb by this new, entirely unexpected peak of naïve idiocy when it was finally put into words.

“I…can’t get it under control,” Eönwë murmured sorrowfully, pointing at his groin. “I just feel—strange the whole time, and I…am afraid that someone will notice and—”

The distended breeches—looking suspiciously soiled already—unambiguously told a tale of woe and discomfort which drew a clucking, empathetic sound from the tight throat of the Balrog; he was no stranger to the painful throes of unwanted and untimely arousal, and his heart went out to the disconsolate bird.

“Did you try to…you know…take care of it?” Gothmogh then asked sheepishly, mimicking vigorous masturbation.

“Yes, but I think I am not doing it right—it’s not working! Can I show you? Maybe you’ll have some pointers for me.”

The tremulous note of reluctant trust and utter despair in his voice made Gothmog suppress a guffaw of disbelief; instead, he nodded very seriously and leaned back on his elbows, schooling his face into a mien of benevolent neutrality.

He had never seen Eönwë entirely naked thus far, so the vicious, almost angry struggle of the herald with his own fine garments was another welcome but highly disconcerting surprise.

As soon as he had cast off his raiment, Eönwë proceeded to encircle his half-hard cock in a vice-like grip and tug at it brutally.

Jumping to his feet, Gothmog closed his own clawed fingers around the white-knuckled hand. “Slow down, bird. Do you want to tear it off?” he said, trying to make his voice sound playful and light.

“Maybe,” Eönwë groaned. “It has certainly caused me enough trouble to warrant such a drastic step.”

With a regretful, reprimanding shake of his impressively bulky head, Gothmog pried Eönwë’s cramped fingers off his by now fully erect cock and lifted them to his fiery maw.

“Look here, bird, you have a lovely body there. Truly, that is a truly admirable, charming form which perfectly complements your sweet nature,” he cooed, pressing little kisses on the trembling hand of his inveterate enemy. “You are so much closer to the other Valar—I’d recommend consulting Yavanna, Vána, or even Aiwendil about this. Maybe, it’s just your…well…season.”

Huge, blank eyes gazed into his pleadingly, and Gothmog felt his heart mellow.

“Now, I understand that this is not a nice state to be in—especially after everything you’ve told me about the expectations and rules of your home—but if you’d let me, I can try to help.”

“Yes,” Eönwë almost sobbed. “Yes, I thought that you might be able to assist me. You’re—you don’t care about these things, do you?”

It was an insult, an accusation, and a touchingly vulnerable plea all at once.

“Tell me what it is like,” Gothmog asked gently and accepted without protesting when Eönwë wrenched his hand free and turned around as if he was unable to bear being perceived during the stammering, halting explanation of absolutely natural and normal experiences of carnal lust.

“I just—I wake up and it is there, this need, this yearning, and I don’t understand. It’s like being expected to know the answer to a question that has never been put to me, and it annoys me. Throughout the day, I feel as if I am about to burst into flame—no offence to you—and yet I am so paralyzingly cold all the time. Something is missing, and I know I need it, I’ll die if I don’t find it, but I don’t even know where to start looking or what I am seeking.”

Humming in sympathy, Gothmog pondered these words for a long moment.

He had the overwhelming urge to speak to his masters for—while Melkor knew and understood needs and impulses better than anybody else—Mairon would know exactly how to proceed; he was a prodigy in the making and pursuing of plans.

Unfortunately, neither one of them was available, and so Gothmog simply followed his instincts.

“Let’s start with the easiest part,” he rumbled comfortingly and pulled Eönwë onto his lap and wrapped his solid, warming arms around that shivering frame. “Better?”

“Yes,” Eönwë admitted. “You are so hot—warm, I mean, but also—”

He hiccupped frenetically. “See? I am doing it again! I am bad—all my thoughts and actions are despicable!”

“Don’t worry, so am I,” Gothmog laughed and carded his sharp claws carefully through the dense, fluffy feathers covering Eönwë’s broad wings. The full-body shiver and suppressed moan this tiny caress provoked emboldened him, and he repeated his movement with a little more pressure. “Do you feel closer to that answer now?”

“Maybe a little?” Eönwë squeaked in a breathless voice as his head tilted backwards to come to rest against Gothmog’s smouldering, gem-covered shoulder with a muted thud. “I should not enjoy this—”

“But you do? Tell yourself that I am just one of the terrible, wicked defilers Manwë always warns you about,” the Balrog whispered, denying his own deeper, better nature in the name of bringing succour to one in need. “None of this is your fault!”

“Will you steal my soul if I let you kiss me?”

“Yes, but just a tiny bit. You know, we Balrogs love evilness so much that we will suck it out from others to have more of it,” Gothmog fibbed even as he snaked his hands around Eönwë’s torso to let his gleaming claws rake across the taut skin of his stomach all the way up to his woefully neglected, oversensitive nipples.

“You may then,” Eönwë moaned, arching into that first touch with self-forgotten eagerness and twisting his head—taking full advantage of his nature’s mobility—to welcome the searing, blinding kiss that was pressed upon his trembling lips.

“Let’s try this again,” Gothmog groaned, willing his own cock not to breach containment in some ludicrous way that would freak Eönwë out.

Then, taking that shivering white hand into his own, he guided it towards the gently swaying, abundantly leaking cock and wrapped Eönwë’s fingers around it loosely once more.

“This is not your enemy,” he hummed. “I am.”

“I don’t like this,” Eönwë cried, jerking his arm to pull back. “This is wrong—I don’t want to do this.”

Then, a mere moment later, he added pitifully, “Can’t you…do it?”

No, Gothmog had never penetrated Eönwë, and—by the way this meeting was going—he would not do so anytime soon either, but he obliged happily, replacing the reluctant hand of righteous justice with his despicable paw of depravity.

“Nice and slow,” he said as he started pumping carefully. “You are good; thus, you deserve to be treated well, even by yourself.”

For some reason, it was tremendously important to him to get that point across. Once he got back to Angband, he would scour the few resources they had at their disposal and maybe even throw himself at Thuri’s mercy for information, but, for now, he would simply try to quench the torturous fires roasting his little bird alive.

Small gurgling sounds of dismay and involuntary rapture escaped Eönwë despite his best efforts to withstand and defy the menacing wave of red mist burgeoning in his befuddled mind.

One hand stroking a shivering wing and the other curled carefully around Eönwë’s cock, Gothmog peppered tiny, nipping kisses—the only concession he made to his disavowed desire for the creature writhing in his lap—onto that gleaming, overstretched throat, thrumming with mounting tension.

“It’s all right, bird,” he promised. “I am exactly the kind of demon who’d take advantage of your rare moment of weakness.”

Ground to dust under the pressure building in his core, Eönwë whined softly. “No,” he then said in a rough pant. “No, you’re helping me. You’re being—hmmm—so good to me. This—it’s the answer.”

For the first time since this whole ordeal had started, he felt light enough to take flight without wearing himself out—his whole body felt tense and powerful, warmed to the core by the heat emanating from the Balrog’s embrace, and Eönwë’s confused, contradictory senses told him undeniably that he was finally safe.

With a resonating shout, he bore down on Gothmog’s groin with all his weight as he came undone, spraying hot seed across their entangled legs and the unforgiving, uncaring ground.

Of course, he knew nothing of the agony he had put the other through when he collapsed against a rock-hard chest and tucked his golden-haired head under an angular chin like a fledgling taking refuge from a storm.

“Well done, bird,” Gothmog crooned. “Are you feeling better? Do you think you can go home and sleep? If you ever need me again, I am just a message away.”

He smiled wistfully at the barren rock and the ominous trees—he was far from satisfied, but his heart was at ease.

“The hell you will,” another voice cut in. “The bird is in heat—everyone can smell that from a mile off.”

“Thuri,” Gothmog screeched, startled and distraught. Of all the citizens of Angband, she was the one he did not want to be caught by with his pants down.

Eönwë as well bristled and dazedly groped for his weapon which he had discarded rather carelessly at the beginning of this most healing of experiences.

“Relax, chicken,” Thuri laughed. “Winged solidarity here. Gotty, listen, you cannot send him back like that. It will get a lot worse before it gets better, and he’s been one miserable sentient drumstick since he arrived here despite your ‘help’.”

“What do you propose then?” Gothmog snarled—the outburst would have been much more threatening if he had been standing rather than cradling a boneless Eönwë on his burning lap.

“In the name of the Dark Forces of Angband,” Thuri declared, her eyes flickering with delight, “I officially take Eönwë, Maia of Manwë, hostage. Come, bird, Gotty will draw you a hot bath and get you some nice seeds. And then, I hope, he’ll fuck you silly, because whatever this pity play was, it was painful to watch!”

Thank you so much for reading <3

-> Masterlist for November

#og post #IDNMT writes #fanfiction #writing #tolkien writing #jrrt #November #Nanowrimo2023 #Firebird #Eönwë x Gothmog #Eönwë #Gothmog #Secret Meeting

[loveharlow]

FOUR - HOT 'N COLD

CHAPTER SYNOPSIS; [5k] A day spent in the springs ends with a fleeting moment in a hot tub between two "best friends" that may be the start of something new or the beginning of the end of their nearly year long situation-ship.

CHAPTER WARNING(S); swearing, mutual pining, mild angst, mentions of food, little bit of pope x kie drama, a couple OC's I randomly added for shits and giggles

A/N; Okayyy so we finally got a little bit of confrontation and I feel like this chapter deserves a moodboard as well (or two...). SORRY FOR ANY GRAMMATICAL ERRORS I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO PROOFREAD THIS TWICE

PSA; School is starting back up for me so the chapters will be moving a bit slower :/. Not too much, but still.

series masterlist jj masterlist

“IS THIS SPOT OKAY?” SARAH ASKED. She’d stopped in the tall-grass littered area marked “picnics” on the wooden sign we’d passed. I studied the area with a hand over my eyes, shielding them from the harsh sun that was beating down on us since this morning.

I was between the impromptu line we’d been walking in since we’d arrived at the springs, Sarah and Kiara in front of me while John B, Pope and JJ trailed towards the end. 

Kie nodded, her bottom lip sticking out and eyebrows lifted in acceptance. “I think this is fine. Plus, we’re a fair distance from everything else.” She was right. We stood about equal distance from each of the activities, not that it mattered. Canoeing to the right, the waters that were safe to swim in to the left, and some kind of free-play zone in front of us — people playing volleyball, racing and some simply lounging in the area where the grass was sparse and revealed more sand.

Sarah nodded and set down the picnic basket, the rest of us plopping down on the ground in a makeshift circle and unloading the contents of the woven basket. 

“What is all this shit? I thought you brought food. Y’know, mini burgers ‘n shit.” John B criticized as he examined the food we’d pulled out of the basket — chocolate covered strawberries, mini club sandwiches, cans of soda.

“It’s a picnic, you moron. Not a three-course meal.” Kie snapped back, eliciting an eye roll from the brunette boy. 

“Besides, we probably don’t want to eat much right now anyway. We’re going to be swimming and stuff.” I added, cracking open a can of soda — the cold metal can already cooling off my body from the mere touch.

I was sitting next to Kie as she opened up one of the plastic containers holding a sandwich, Pope and John B next to her while JJ and Sarah were sitting to my left. I sipped on the carbonated drink as my eyes scanned the area.

It was pretty and pleasing to the eyes. Tall trees with beautiful hanging leaves — similar to willow trees, tall grass surrounding us, water and sand further out as people canoed, swam, and just had a great time overall. It was the perfect day for something like this — sunny and extremely hot.

We didn’t actually have plans today, for the record. But we decided to find something to do, seeing as it was our, what? Fourth day here? It seemed too early for a lazy day. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Pope piped up, mouth full of grapes. Everyone looked at me, seeing as I had mentioned earlier that I had seen this particular attraction online before and knew a few of the activities we could engage in.

I shrugged nonchalantly, reaching for one of the triangle-cut sandwiches. “I thought we’d go canoeing first. None of us have done it before and it seems to be the leading attraction here.”

“I’m all in. As long as our personal tour guide is recommending it.” JJ joked. It provoked a small smile from me but it didn’t reach my eyes. 

I was still reeling from the events of yesterday. Him wiping the sauce from the corner of my mouth, the eye contact…and the abrupt cut-off. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if I didn’t know what he was doing — JJ was avoiding confrontation, something he did all too well. I’m not an idiot. And neither is he. We were more than friends, that much was clear. And if JJ knew me at all, and he knows me better than almost anyone, he would know that I want answers as to what we are. I need them. 

So, yeah. I was distancing myself from him a bit since the day started. Did he notice? Most likely. But maybe it was about time I started thinking less about why JJ was avoiding me and more about moving on and letting this whole fling-but-not-a-fling thing go. It wasn’t healthy for either of us and I don’t know how he felt but I felt ignored and played with in a sense. I don’t know how much longer I can continue to be friends with him and act like there was nothing there. Because it seemed like he’d keep this game up forever and I didn’t sign up for that.

JJ gave a confused expression at my lack of response but I averted my eyes elsewhere. “Well,” Kie chipped in. “-If we’re going canoeing we might as well hurry. The workers mentioned there’s a limited number of canoes so if we get there too late we’ll have to wait for another party to return.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, finishing off their sodas and snacks and stripping off their shirts and bottoms — revealing our bikinis and swim trunks underneath. The lack of clothing brought a welcomed cool to our slightly sweaty bodies as we folded our clothes and set them on the blanket to head off in the direction of the small boats. 

ARRIVING AT THE EDGE OF THE WATER WHERE THE CANOES WERE, AN EMPLOYEE APPROACHED OUR GROUP WITH A BRIGHT SMILE. She was a beautiful dark-skinned girl with dark brown shoulder length hair that was bouncing with tight curls — a bright smile and wide-brown eyes adorning her round face. She was glowing under the sun as she waltzed over to us in a one-piece sporting the springs logo on the front.

“Hi there.” She stopped in front of us, fiddling with the blue whistle that was attached to a lanyard around her neck. “First time here?”. We all nodded in response. “Okay, great. Awesome. Uh- so unfortunately, we are all out of three-seaters so we only have two-seater canoes but on the bright side-” She surveyed our small group, her eyes lingering on Pope a little longer. “It looks like there’s an even number of you. So if you don’t mind, you can pair up and I can go retrieve the canoes for you.” She suggested.

We told her that was fine and she turned around to start dragging the canoes closer to the edge of the lake. I nudged Pope’s shoulder and he whipped his head around quickly.

“I think a certain cute lifeguard likes you.” The boy scoffed and ran a hand over his head, avoiding eye contact with me.

“No way.” He shook his head, staring at the girl as she struggled to drag the canoes by herself. “She’s like- wayy out of my league. I mean, she’s hot.”

I rolled my eyes and moved to stand behind him as the rest of our friends chatter mindlessly behind us. “First of all, stop selling yourself short.” I reprimanded, pulling his ear. “You’re attractive, Pope. And smart. You’re...a little awkward but we love you all the same,” He rolled his eyes at my teasing. “And plus, that hot girl over there, who by the way could use a helping hand with those canoes, gave you the most obvious heart eyes eyes known to man. So, stop standing here self-deprecating and help that hot employee bring our canoes over.”

“Oh, no. I can’t-” He protested as I pushed him farther towards the struggling girl. “Y/n…”

“Hey!” I called out in the direction of the girl who looked around our age. “My friend, Pope here, can help you out if you need a hand.”

She smiled, a slight blush rushing to her face. “Yeah, yeah. That’d be great. Thank you,” She tucked a strand of her curls behind her ears, sticking a hand out in Pope’s direction — who was, admittedly, standing awkwardly as if he had no clue what to do with his body. “I’m Mallory.”

Pope smiled back and shook her hand. “Pope.” He shut his eyes tightly in mild embarrassment. “But you already knew that…” She giggled and Pope cracked an eye open, surprised she didn’t immediately lose interest at his lack of laid-backness, and smiled at her before helping her move the canoes over to us, me making my way back to the group as they were now staring at me in bewilderment.

"What?"

“Did you just set Pope up?” Kiara asked, arms crossed over her chest — she was trying her best to hide a look of annoyance but it was shining through in the slightest of ways. 

“Uh, yeah? Don’t act like we didn’t see her eye him up and down.” Everyone, except for Kie, nodded in agreement while John B and JJ muttered things like ‘finally’ and ‘that’s my boy’. 

“They got the boats in the water. Might as well head over there.” Kie spoke shortly, walking over and away from us. What’s up with her?

“Wait, what about the pairs-”

“Already got it settled, gorgeous. You’re with me.” JJ winked before walking past me. 

Great. Just great. I should’ve known.

AFTER MALLORY, THE SWEET EMPLOYEE, HAD EXPLAINED EVERYTHING TO US, WE GOT IN THE WATER. She had instructed us not to go past the bright red bowies set out in the water and that the canoe ride was purely for scenic value — no “horseplay”. JJ and I were behind the other two canoes that held the rest of our group — John B and Sarah in the middle, annoying his girlfriend by poking her with the paddle while Pope and Kie led the way, making idle conversation. It sparked a question in my mind.

“Is Kie alright?”

JJ turned to me, continuing to paddle lightly. “What do you mean?”

“She seemed kind of ticked off when I brought up Pope and the girl hitting it off.”

“You didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

JJ shook his head and chuckled lowly, tilting his head back up to flip the hair out of his face. “Kie still has a thing for Pope.” My eyes went wide and my mouth dropped open slightly.

“Wh- she broke things off with him.”

“And now she regrets it.

I sighed and let my shoulders fall. “If I’d known I wouldn’t have pushed him to make a move.”

“Why?”

“Well because, now Kie is probably pissed at me and I feel like a shitty friend.”

JJ shrugged and looked me in the eyes. “So? That’s not on you. We’re adults now. If Kie is pissed it’s no one’s fault but hers. She can’t expect him to wait forever. She has to toughen up or he’s going to move on.”

I laughed at this, a bit bitterly in all honesty, and turned away from him to look at the water as we continued to paddle and take in the scenery. He’s one to talk, I thought. JJ had basically voiced my own troubles, our troubles, vicariously through Pope and Kiara. If he could read them like a book with no problem, why was he struggling to do so with me? I practically had it written in sharpie on my forehead; “I am hopelessly in love with JJ Maybank.” If having your heart on your sleeve was a real, physical thing, mine was stapled to my bare wrist.

I felt a broad hand on my shoulder and returned my gaze to the blonde beside me who now held a look of concern. “Hey, you alright? You went silent on me.”

“I’m fine.” I replied, being short with him. I was being petty, I know. He doesn’t even know that I’m upset and if he does he has no clue why. But I just can’t bring myself to care thinking about all the times JJ has made me feel that exact same feeling — confusion.

“Y/n,”

“I’m fine, JJ.” I snapped at him a bit. Taking a deep breath, I met his eyes. “Sorry, J. I didn’t mean to- I just thought about something. Don’t worry about it.” I sent him a reassuring smile. Nudging my head forward in the direction of our friends who were now more than a few feet ahead of us, I spoke once more, “C’mon. We’re too far behind.”

He nodded but the look in his eyes was hesitant. I felt like everything was coming to the surface and I don’t know how much more time we have to play this game of back and forth before I fly off the handle.

AFTER WE WERE DONE WITH CANOEING, WE HEADED OVER TO THE SWIM AREA. It was a beautiful lake and if you were able to swim back far enough, you could reach the soft, trickling waterfall — that was apparently a popular photo site for visitors Mallory claimed, the girl stuck with us after informing us that her shift was over and Pope invited her to hang out with us before she had to leave. 

It was cooling down but the water still held a nice warmth to it from the sun that was present earlier in the day.

We've been having a great time so far. Everyone seemed to hit it off with Mallory and to top things off, she was attending the same college as me. As the day dwindled and we fooled around in the glistening body of water, the people surrounding us decreased by the minute — soon leaving only us in the water as any remaining guests sat on the grass. 

I noticed Kie had drifted away from the group, brows pinched close together as she was lost in her thoughts when I waded up to her, setting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

She rolled her eyes and looked down at the water. “I’m trying to be.”

I sighed and wound one of my arms around her shoulders. “‘M sorry, Kie. I wish you would’ve told me you still had a thing for him.”

Her head lifted from my shoulder swiftly as her eyes went huge, before squinting at me. “How did you- I am never telling JJ anything ever again.” She grumbled under her breath, head falling to my shoulder once again as we waded slowly.

“He has a point, though. If what he said to you was anything like what he said to me, then he’s right. You shooed him off, Kie. He wanted you, badly. You can’t be mad that he’s moving on or at least trying to.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, well maybe JJ should take a page out of his own book.” I winced at her harsh tone, knowing the jab was directed at me in a sense as well. She sighed and squeezed my hand that was draped over her shoulders. “Sorry. That was rude.”

I shrugged. “It’s fine. You’re right. I mean, it was still kind of rude but I get it.”

“You are too. Right, I mean. I don’t even think I’m in love with him or anything like you are with JJ. But I did genuinely like Pope at some point. I guess it’s hard to see someone make him smile so easily in less than an hour than how I tried to for weeks.”

“At least you’re self-aware.” I joked, both of us giggling. “But I’ll have you know that I think you and Mallory would hit it off really well. She’s part of this beach clean-up program and there’s some open spots.”

I felt the brown-haired girl smile against my shoulder, lifting her head up, my arm slipping from her shoulders. She shook herself off and took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m Pope’s friend. And I need to act like it. I’m happy for him.” She smiled genuinely, small but genuine.

I held my arm out for her to hook her own through mine, which she did with a bright smile causing one to break out on my own face. We made our way back over to the group where they were all still caught up in a conversation and getting to know Mallory, Kie unraveling her arm from mine and joining in. 

“What’d you say to her?” A gravelly voice spoke from behind me, startling me. I twirled around to find JJ looking down at me — shirtless and hair hanging over his face while his signature shark tooth necklace dangling in front of his toned chest.

“Nothing, really. Basically what you told me. That she has to pretty much let him move on and for her to do the same.” JJ smiled at me admiringly and slung one toned arm over my frame.

“When did you become so wise?” The boy teased as he lightly shook me back and forth in a playful manner.

I forced out a small laugh. “When I started to relate to Kie more than I thought I could.” I mumbled.

His playful smile dropped a bit and his eyebrows pulled themselves together. “What do you mean by that?” Looking up at him, I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders under the weight of his arm.

“Nothing.” He raised a curious brow as if to ask ‘really?’ and I plastered a smile on my cheeks. “I mean it. Honestly.”

“If you say so...” He still looked ambivalent but he let it go. 

“Guys?” Sarah spoke amidst the group of us, standing closer to the shore with a group of 3 girls standing behind her. None of us had even noticed that she’d drifted off. “You up for a game of volleyball before we hit the road? These girls need more people to play with.”

“Count me in.” Kie piped up. “Y/n, you coming? Three-on-three?”

I shrugged and pulled my lips into a thin line. “Why not?” I replied, slipping from under the blonde’s hold and facing him. “Duty calls.” He laughed before jokingly shooing me off. Averting my gaze to Mallory, she was chatting with Pope and I didn't know if I should interrupt but I didn’t want her to feel excluded. “Mallory-” She stopped talking, waiting for me to speak as she made contact with my eyes. “You wanna join? You can be our ref.” I taunted in a friendly manner, wiggling my eyebrows and shaking my shoulders.

She laughed out loud, throwing her head back slightly but shook her head ‘no’. “I think I’m gonna chill here until I have to go. Thanks, though.” I smiled and nodded shortly in her direction before waddling out of the water beside Kie.

We followed Sarah and the other group of girls to the volleyball net that was set in the middle of the sandy plane near the water’s edge, the trio turning to face ours. The girl on the far right broke the silence first — she had bone-straight blonde hair that was pulled back into a low-ponytail and she was significantly shorter than the two girls beside her. 

“I’m Olivia. This-” She pointed to the girl beside her in the middle with similar features to her own — fair skin and blonde hair that was noticeably shorter, enough that it just barely reached her shoulders. “-is Amelia. My older sister. And that-” She craned her neck to look at the girl at the end of the line — jet black hair and olive-toned skin. “-is Mariana. My sister’s best friend and my biggest pain in the ass.”

Mariana rolled her eyes and waved at us. “That is so not true. That little shit is gonna miss me and her sister both when we’re off at college for the next four years.” 

My friends and I smiled at their dynamic. “I’m Y/n.” I voiced, gesturing for the two girls on either side of me. “This Kiara and this is Sarah, my best friends.” We waved in return and got the game going.

They turned out to be really nice girls and Kie and Mariana seemed to be hitting it off and Sarah had even realized she had met Olivia and Amelia before when she went on a business trip with Ward one time. 

The only down-side was that they kicked our asses — Olivia’s one hell of a volleyball player and Amelia’s the one who taught her all she knows. She’s going to college on a sports scholarship. 

The sun had completely set at this point, just now realizing we’d been out practically all day. We were sweaty, damp and smelled like lake water but the day had been a success for the most part.

Sarah and I had bid farewell and separated from the other trio of girls, while Kiara and Mariana were chatting animatedly as Sarah and I stood off to the side and waited for her before a pair of hands came down on my shoulders rather aggressively and a loud “rah!” was heard from behind me.

Whipping around like a kid caught stealing candy, my eyebrows turned downwards and my lips pulled together. “JJ!” I screeched, shoving him back a few inches as he had a grin on his face while John B and Pope stood behind him laughing along, dripping water onto the sand, I assume Mallory had left. “You scared the shit out of me.” I grumbled.

Just then, Kie came bounding back to our group as Mariana returned to her own and bid farewell with a wave. Looking at Kie, I noticed a blush on her cheeks and a small piece of paper she was trying to conceal in her hand, but I’d ask about it later.

“Ready?” Sarah asked, everyone nodding and rushing back over to our spot where all of our belongings remained. We slipped on our shirts and shorts and made our way out of the spring and to the parking lot where the car was. Once inside, Sarah started the car and we were on our way.

WE’D GOTTEN BACK TO THE HOUSE SAFELY AND EVERYONE SPLIT UP TO GO SHOWER AND GO TO SLEEP. We’d tired out from the sun and running around all day.

I was about to head upstairs to hop in the shower and head off to bed. That was, until a hand on my forearm stopped me, craning my neck to find JJ staring up at me from his place at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m gonna get in the hot tub for a minute. Care to join me?” He suggested. I was contemplating it. It sounded nice, in all honesty. We hadn’t touched the hot tub since we got here and having the powerful jets and hot water hit my body before a real shower and going to bed sounded appealing. 

“Lead the way.”

JJ AND I HAD BEEN SITTING IN THE HOT TUB FOR ABOUT TEN MINUTES. Talking about anything and everything and just reveling in the warmth of the bubbling water. It’d gone silent a couple minutes ago, both of our heads thrown back in ecstasy.

“What’s up with you?”

Lifting my head to look straight ahead at him, I tilted my head to the side in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“You just...seemed zoned out today. Like in the canoe, I asked if you were alright like twice and you said it was nothing but I don’t buy it.” He reminded. “Talk to me.” The boy urged.

Oh. That’s what he meant.

“It really is nothing, JJ.”

“I call bull. Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Would he please just drop this? I’ve been holding it together for the most part all day.

“Because nothing is wrong. Why are you so adamant that there is?”

“Because I know you. There’s clearly something going on-” Just fucking drop it-

“Why do you care so much?” I snapped. JJ’s neck reeled back at my harsh tone, a deep look of concern etched on his features as he moved from his place against the side of the hot tub to stand right in front of me, his tall and hot frame towering over mine.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke softly, his hand trailing over my waist under the water, making his touch one-thousand times hotter. “I didn’t mean to push you. I’ve just been worried ‘s all.”

I sighed. “And I appreciate, JJ, I really do. But I really don’t want to talk. Not now, anyway.” I replied gently, too focused on his presence and how the distance between us, or lack of, was making my heart beat out of my chest.

He wants to know what’s wrong? This. This is what’s wrong. How he makes me feel, how he knows he makes me feel.

Silence fell over us as his hand caressed the curve of my hip and the other came to cradle the other side, pulling me up to stand in the small pool of water as well. We stood chest to chest, his eyes glued to mine as everything else faded from my peripheral and I could only see him.

My own hands came up to rest on his chest. Pull away, I thought to myself. But it was too late. It was over for me the second he licked his lips and leant down to crash his own against mine.

And I was making the same mistake I made almost a year ago. The same mistake I made every time this happened. I was kissing my best friend without a care in the world for who saw or what it meant but I knew the second we pulled away that this feeling — the euphoria in my heart and the butterflies in my stomach — it would all fade away. It would all vanish and so would he.

So, I savored this moment because I knew, somewhere deep down I knew, that this, wouldn’t be happening for a while. And it would be because of me. Because even as I stood here — JJ’s tongue down my throat, my hands forming tight fists in his hair and his grip on my waist tightening by the second, I could hear the snapping of my heart strings in my ears and my brain yelling at me to stop whatever this was. To stop hurting myself by letting him hurt me time and time again.

I was the first to pull away, out of breath and head dipping down to stare at the small waves of water between us. I knew it was coming when his hands fell from my waist and he was stepping back. I didn’t even look up as I heard the water splashing, signaling he had exited the tub.

I just stood there — in the middle of the hot tub with swollen lips, the muscle memory of his touch on my hips, and hot tears brimming in my eyes at the realization that he was going to pretend like this never happened…again.

“I’m, uh- I’m getting kind of tired. Think I’m gonna head inside.” 

“JJ…” I spoke, voice shaking slightly as I still made no move to look at him. Hearing his feet pat against the concrete as he walked towards the sliding door.

“I’ll meet you inside-”

“When will you just admit it?” I snarled with a humorless laugh as I felt the first tear escape, trailing down my cheek. That was when I heard him stop in tracks, the atmosphere so silent that I could hear the drops of water that were falling from his body hit the ground.

So silent, I could hear the nervous gulp he took before speaking. “Admit what?”

That was when I found the courage to look up at him, my eyes red and one lone tear streak on my face. He was staring at me but his gaze didn’t reach my eyes and he was clutching his towel in his hand for dear life. “Don’t act like you don’t know. This whole cat-and-mouse game is getting really old, JJ, and it’s no fun when you don’t even know which role you’re playing.” I voiced my thoughts harshly and I stepped out of the hot tub, snatching my towel from the deck chair and moving past him to pull the sliding door open myself.

I didn’t look back as I made my way up the stairs, hearing him swear under his breath, to our shared room and into the bathroom to shower. By the time I got out, he was already in bed facing away from me. He probably showered elsewhere just to avoid brushing past me. I threw my clothes into the hamper and climbed in, facing away from him and letting my thoughts wander. Wander to how we got here in the first place…

“Heyy, gorgeous.” JJ slurred, beer in hand as he stumbled toward me. When his frame collided with mine, I could barely support him considering I was intoxicated myself. So I shimmied my shoulders to get him off of me.

We were standing by a tree, away from the core of the party, thrown by us at The Chateau, to celebrate our senior year. JJ and I leaned against the thick bark, both drunk and giggly.

“Why are you over here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Shouldn’t you be-” I took another sip from my red solo cup. “-with a touron or something.” I saw him shrug out of the corner of my eye, I think. 

“I’d rather be over here with you.” He spoke dazingly, turning to view me from the side before I turned to look at him as well. “Y’know you look, like, really pretty tonight. ‘M not sure if that’s a weird thing to say.” 

I blushed and tried to nudge him, missing by a few inches and merely brushing his elbow. “Shut up.” I muttered.

“No. ‘M being so serious.” He chuckled. “I always think you look pretty.” He was staring at me like he’d never seen me before, this starry look in his eyes before he was leaning forward and smushing his lips against mine — the taste of alcohol and fruit lingering around in the kiss.

I don’t remember everything from that night, but I remember the kiss. And the next morning, when we all woke up scattered around the Chateau, JJ and I had agreed that it was a drunken kiss, a one-time thing.

And that would’ve been fine had it been true. But it wasn’t. It happened again. And again when we were sober. And again. And again. And somewhere down the line I had ended up falling in love with my best friend. And when I went to talk about it, he’d find any and every way to avoid it.

We’d run out of excuses. And I was ready to face that fact — the fact that we weren’t just friends.

But he wasn’t.

He still isn’t. And I don’t know if he ever will be.

A/N: Not gonna lie, this chapter overall was not my fav so far but the ending does something to me and I'm the one who wrote it😭

taglist (please use my inbox to be added, just ask:)); @totallynotkaibiased

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #obx jj #jj maybank x reader #obx jj x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #obx jj maybank #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #jj maybank series #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #jj maybank imagine #pogues x reader #obx

[rypnami]

more than anything (pt. 1)

ship: leander prewett x sebastian sallow

word count: 938

warnings: mild angst, anxiety, vaguely implied transphobia.

summary: leander is returning to hogwarts for 5th year after transitioning over the summer. he struggles with anxiety over his identity as his family sends him off for the year.

a/n: @kaidynsarell completely inspired this lil fic. you’re the best! (don’t know pic credit sorry, please let me know if it’s yours so i can credit!) part 2 should be semi-soon idk

Leander stood on the train platform, feeling a bit faint. As usual, it was busy- trunks were loaded, parents said goodbye, students boarded the train- but to him, it all felt alien.

Would anyone even recognise him?

He had the same face, maybe, but he’d changed so much that most days when he looked in the mirror he didn’t even recognise himself.

Maybe they would all hate him. That was a thought that had been plaguing him for the past few weeks. No one would accept him, he’d have to move schools, lose all his friends… he tried to stop that thought. Worrying would do nothing.

His own parents hung back a few steps, letting him decide what he wanted to do. Lily had come along to send him off for the year, too, which was slightly embarrassing- no one else needed their big sister there. Then again, no one else, to his knowledge, had made such a big change, either.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” His mum had come up and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We can wait a few more minutes, if you like?”

“Erm…” Leander cleared his throat, feeling a bit more embarrassed. “No, that’s okay..” He picked up his trunk. “I think I’m ready.”

“If you’re certain…” She moved her hand as if to pat his head, but seemed to think better of it, her hand pausing halfway.

Leander wasn’t certain at all. His stomach was in knots, and his knees shook slightly. He still felt a bit light-headed.

“We can wait a few more minutes, you know. There isn’t any rush,” Lily said quietly. Her eyebrows were knit together, her fingers drumming slightly on her thigh as she stood. She looked almost as anxious as Leander felt.

“But there *is* a rush,” Leander muttered. The train would be leaving soon- he couldn’t stand on the platform all day like a baby.

“There doesn’t have to be,” Mum said, worry seeping into her voice. “We can take all the time you need.”

“Don’t even have to take the train. We could just use the Floo network later this evening,” his father added.

Leander slammed his trunk down, growing annoyed. A few people glanced their way. “It’s fine! I’m fine!” He snapped. They hadn’t been this overbearing since his *actual* first day at Hogwarts. Although back then, Lily had still been attending, and she’d been able to look out for him. This time he would be all alone.

Alone and completely different.

Mum backed off, seeming hurt. His father, too, seemed upset. He knew he shouldn’t have been snappy- they were just trying to be supportive of him. That was more than a lot of people like him could say about their families. But it was almost too much. Maybe it was entitled of him to complain.

Lily motioned for their parents to step away for a moment, coming up to Leander herself.

“Hey, kiddo. What’s going on?”

He shrugged. “I guess I just… I just…” Leander stared at his feet. The platform was clearing out as more students boarded the train, probably making them stick out more. Was everyone staring at them? Judging him? Did any of his classmates even recognise him?

Leander didn’t quite know how to phrase what he was feeling, but thankfully he didn’t have to. Lily always seemed to know what he was thinking; it was part of what made her his favourite sibling, not that he’d admit that to the others. But they probably already knew that anyway.

“Look,” she started. “I understand this is scary-“

“You don’t understand, though,” he cut her off. “You’ll *never* understand, not really.” Maybe it was a rude thing to say, but it was true. Lily had always been so confident and sure of herself, all the time Leander had known her. She had no idea what it felt like to be trapped in wrong body, to hate herself every day for it. Maybe he was a little envious, even, that she’d always known exactly who she was.

“…you’re right. Maybe not *understand*, but I know that this is scary for you.” She looked into his eyes with a deep intensity that was almost uncomfortable. “You have already been so brave these past few months. I know you can do this. And I think you do, too. If anyone gives you any shit, you write to me as soon as you can, and I’ll sort it out. I promise.”

“I will.”

The train whistle blew, loud and shrill. Last call for students to get on board.

“You certain you’re ready for this? No shame in going tomorrow, you know.”

“It’s alright. I’m ready.” And he was. Leander turned and rushed to give his parents a hug. Maybe they could he overbearing, but he knew it was just because they loved him. It meant the world to him that his father had gone out of his way to get time off work, to see him off. “See you at Christmas,” he said as they all broke apart.

He grabbed his trunk, heaving it behind him as he got on the train.

“Good luck, kiddo!” Lily called after him. He waved, loaded his trunk, and went to find somewhere to sit.

There was an open compartment, completely empty. He sat down just as the train began moving, and waved goodbye to his family through the window as it left the station.

So long, London.

#no i didn’t throw a TTPD lyric in there last minute shut up #the target audience for this fic is me #transphobes step off #tags: #canon divergent #duncan hobhouse slander #trans!leander #au where basically everything is the same but trans!leander #bi sebastian #bi leander #prewlow #leander x sebastian #hogwarts legacy #hp fandom #sebastian sallow #leander prewett #duncan hobhouse #fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #leander prewett fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction

[sortofanobsession]

Unsure and Unconventional, to say the least (Ted Lasso Fic)

Author's note: because the Uncle's Day scenes made me think a lot of things. Phoebe would have Jamie wrapped around her finger in like .01 seconds. They would be a mischievous duo. And the team would be like awww that's cute.

Parts of this fic partially Inspired by:

an answered ask (HERE) by @andfrecklesandyoursmile about Roy giving his sister Jamie's contact for "emergencies".

@politelymenacing did a post that (THIS ONE) That may have helped inspire some dialog.

So credit to those brilliant post.

Ted Lasso Masterlist

OT3 Roy/Keeley/Jamie Romantic ship. Platonic team dynamics.

Content warning: Cursing/Swearing (lots of it because Roy Kent is gonna Roy Kent), Mentions of abuse, Mentions of physical violence, Mentions of hospitals, Self-Esteem Issues (because Jamie Tartt...), Polyamory, Anxiety, Anger Issues, Fear.

Word count: 8k+ (this one got away from me and that is why it took days to finish)

Read on AO3 here

Unsure and Unconventional, to say the least

“Coach?” Will says as he nears Roy Kent as the coach oversees training on the pitch. “Someone’s here to see you. They’re in the office.” 

Roy’s brows furrow. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Keeley would have just come out and joined them on the sidelines. He grunts in acknowledgment and heads inside. 

“Uncle Roy!” he hears as soon as he reaches the doorway. 

“Phoebe?” He says, accepting the little girl’s hug when she reaches him. He looks over to see his sister talking to Trent Crimm. Trent Crimm moves to the doorway. Stopping to offer to take Phoebe so she could say hi to the team.

“Can I please, Uncle Roy? I want to say hi to Jamie,” Phoebe looks up at him with those big eyes he just can’t say no to, or at least say no and mean it. He looks to his sister, who shrugs. 

“What? They're friends now too,” his sister says, challenge clear in her tone. “That a problem, Roy?”

Trent watches the Kent siblings with silent interest. Phoebe practically buzzed with excitement as she waits for an answer next to him. 

“A 25-year-old prick cannot be friends with an 8-year-old girl,” Roy glares.

“That bridge is long crossed, dear brother,” she laughs. “Especially after Uncle's day.”

“Uncle's day?” Trent asks with a grin.

“Fuck off, Crimm,” Roy grunts. His sister just gives him a fond and familiar look. “Fine,” Roy relents. “You can go say hi to Jamie, but stay out of the line of play. And don’t-”

But she is already gone, an amused Trent following close behind. Phoebe tells him all about Uncle's day as she goes.  

His sister grins. “She’s just going to bother Jamie. Thought you’d at least find that amusing.”

Roy grunts. “Too bad the prick will enjoy it.” Roy winces it. “That just sounds so fucked up.”

“You make it sound so wrong that she likes your friends,” his sister says. “That you think the people you have surrounded yourselves with are criminals.”

“How would you know if they are or aren’t?” he glares at her.

“Because you’d have kicked them in the teeth and sent them packing if they were. Jamie Tartt might be a prick, but even I know he’d probably die before letting anything happen to Phoe, especially if his childhood was half as shit as you’ve said. And he can’t be a complete twat if he sat through the whole of Uncle's day.” She grins. 

“Alright, cut the shit. What’s wrong?” He is quick to change the topic. “I know you’re not here to talk about Jamie fucking Tartt?”

“You sure about that?” She raises a brow. He growls. “Fine, I need you to take her this weekend. One of my colleagues was supposed to speak at a conference, and the prick went and caught something on holiday.”

“So now you have to go?” he asks.

“Fuck no,” she says. “I’m covering for the poor bastard that does, which means I’m working a double.” 

“Fuck that,” Roy says, annoyed on her behalf. 

“I know you have a match, and this might ruin your plans with Keeley-" she starts, but he doesn't care what else she has to say.

“Fuck off. It’s fine. We’ll take her,” Roy doesn’t even hesitate to say. “Kid always comes first. You know that.”

“I know,” she nods. "Thanks."

"You don't need to fucking thank me," he states. 

"I don't, but I'm still going to, you fucking prick," she says fondly. "Every time, no matter how much you curse or growl." 

"You could have just texted me," Roy says. 

"Yeah, but then I couldn't ruin your whole day by asking you the same question you have avoided answering. Can't avoid it in person."

Roy growls, and his glare intensifies. Most people would probably hesitate to continue. Or even hurry to leave. Not his sister. She was used to Roy's behavior decades ago. Roy would kill for his sister. Die for Phoebe. And he'd do it happily. She knew that. 

"Roy, you can't just ignore your feelings forever." She holds a hand up to stop whatever argument he was about to make. "You can, and you probably would. I know you, Roy. I know that you-"

"Don't," he cautions. She sighs.

"You might think that you're hurting just yourself here, but you're not. And that's not fair to anyone." She doesn’t drop specific names because she doesn’t want to risk anyone hearing the specifics. And she knows there isn't any point in pushing more now. "And I know you don't actually want to hurt him. You'll make the right call eventually." She grins. Before heading in the direction of the tunnel out to the pitch.

"You're lucky that you're my sister," he growls when he catches up to her.

"And that you love us, I know," she bumps her shoulder against his. He hums more than he grunts for once as he walks. He gives into that voice in the back of his head that he used to always ignore when in public, even if it's just the dog track on a training day. He puts his arm around her shoulder and pulls her into a half hug as they walk. God, she might be a pain in the arse, but he loved his sister and her kid. He may have smiled just a little as she returned the gesture. 

"You know I'm just trying to look out for you. Like you always do us," she says as they walk out of the tunnel toward the pitch. "You may think you're happy now, just think how much better it could be."

"You spend too much time with Keeley, and she spends too much time with Ted and Rebecca," he laments.

"I'm just glad we finally get to spend time with your friends. Richmond really has brought the best out of that boy from Chelsea that kicked Brock Lorens' arse at the commons."

"Do it again, too," Roy grunts. "Fucking deserved it."

"He was a bellend," she grins. 

"He gave you a black eye. That's not a bellend. That's a fucker with a death wish."

"Who has a death wish now?" Ted asks as they reach them. Roy drops his arm as they do. "Hey there, Doc." Ted greets her.

"Coach Lasso, Crimm," she nods. "Coach Beard." He responds with a nod. 

She turns her attention back to Ted as he speaks. "Glad to see you outside the ER, or is it ED here? Heh, that always sounds so odd to me. ED means something very different where I'm from," Ted says. "Probably just nice to get out of those scrubs. Those always seemed so starchy," he continues earning an amused look from her and a growl from Roy. 

"It is nice to meet in a less sterile but just as chaotic environment," she says. Her brother has warned her to pretty much ignore most of what Ted Lasso says. She looks out to where Phoebe has seemed to draw the attention of most of the Richmond team. "Hopefully, my daughter hasn't caused too much commotion." 

"Aw, the boys could always use a bit of a break," Ted assures her. "No harm, no foul."

She chuckles as a player, one she recognizes as Dani Rojas gives Phoebe a bear hug that lifts her feet off the ground. Phoebe's laughter carried across the pitch. Her brother grunts. She knew she was pushing it the longer they hung around. Her brother used to keep his professional and personal lives separate. Didn't like the way his teammates would look at her. This team was different. He seemed to trust them a lot more. And she could seem to see why. But she was still playing a dangerous game, treading on her brother's nerves. He takes his job very seriously, and they were disrupting it.

"Should probably let you lot get back to it." 

"Well, go on, coach," Ted says to Roy. "Know you want to."  

His sister is smart enough to step away. Moving closer to Ted and Beard. Doesn't even flinch when Roy shouts. "Oi! This is training, not a fucking playdate! Put her down and get back to your fucking drills!” She just shakes her head. 

"Been dying to ask," Ted keeps his voice low as he leans towards her. "He always been like that?"

"He's been Roy Fucking Kent since the day he was born," she says with a grin. "But he has his moments. You can say he was a very protective older brother. Don't know why I said was. Still very much is."

"Like dealing with whoever had that death wish?" Ted asks, low tone forgotten.

"Fuckin' Lorens. I'd smash his face in if he showed that ugly mug around here," Roy grumbles. 

"Again?" His sister smirks.

"Yes, again. Fucking twat." Roy growls.

Ted looked between the Kent siblings. "That bad, huh?"

"No one lays a hand on either one of them if they want to keep it," Roy states. 

"What did you tell his mates the next day when they threatened to go to the teachers?" She grins.

"To fucking do it," Roy says. "That I'd give them a detailed list of every fucking thing they'd ever done to any kid in her class."

"He then listed them, chronologically accurate."

"Then told those fucks that if they even breathed at my sister wrong, their teeth would be in the pavement."

"Wow," was all Ted could say.

"So yes, Coach Lasso, I can assure you, he has always been some version of this Roy Fucking Kent."

"Fucking, right," Roy says.

"And yes, I got more first aid training patching up his sorry arse after fights than I did in medical school." 

*-*-*-*

(Earlier during training…)

Jamie’s head snapped up when the pitch goes quiet. He had stopped to stretch out an annoying knot in his hamstring. The striker wondered why drills had stopped despite no whistle. Not even Roy’s shout of it. He looked up at his teammates, Sam and Jan being the closest. Sam was grinning. Then something collides with his back. He immediately tensed up until small arms snaked around his neck. Jamie let out the breath he was holding and huffs a laugh. 

“Just gonna run right out an’ tackle me, Phoebs?” Jamie laughs.

“Keeley says you like hugs,” Phoebe says in his ear. 

“Especially, Phoebe-shaped ones,” he says with a nod. He reaches around with one arm to anchor her to him as he shifts to stand up. Earning a few curious looks from his teammates. Jamie couldn’t have possibly cared less. When he is on his feet, he reaches up with his other arm to keep hers secure around his neck. He spins her around. She laughs. It’s an infectious noise that causes a few of his teammates to chuckle. When he stops, Phoebe giggles and says she’s dizzy now. He goes to let her down, but her grip only tightens. He can’t help but smile.

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone got sick on the pitch,” Sam says. 

“Roy would love that,” Colin says as he and others join them, all of training seemingly unofficially put on hold. 

“Speakin’ of,” Jamie starts as he makes exaggerated motions as he turns to look around. Phoebe laughs as he swings her around. “Where is the grumpy prick?” Jamie asks having not seen the man. Phoebe giggles, but before she can chastise him for his language, he adds, “Yeah, I know, it’s a bad word, innit? Pay ya next time.” His teammates laugh. He feels her nod more than sees it. 

“Mum said she needed to talk to him and that I could come say hi,” Phoebe tells him. 

“Well, hi,” Jamie says. 

“Hi,” she laughs.

“Say hi to the lads, Phoebs,” Jamie grins.

“Hi lads,” she parrots, earning amused greetings from the now bigger group of players. 

“You here for more than Jamie hugs?” Sam asks. 

“Do you want a hug?” Phoebe asks, and the others laugh. 

"I did not mean-" Sam starts to say but is cut off by Jamie.

“I’m sure the lads wouldn’t turn one down,” Jamie grins. Phoebe shifts, and Jamie lets her down. Sam does indeed accept a hug. A few of the others do too. Dani Rojas makes her laugh by picking her up off her feet and swinging her around. 

“Oi!” They hear from the side of the pitch. “This is training, not a fucking playdate! Put her down and get back to your fucking drills!”  

“Sorry, Uncle Roy,” Phoebe says at the same time the others say, “Yes, Coach.” Jamie just huffs, scoops her up and jogs them over, and sets Phoebe down on the sideline by her mom and uncle.

"Lovely as ever, Doc," Jamie winks, greeting Roy's sister.  

"Charming as always, Tartt," she returns. Roy growls. "Alright. Steady on," she says, patting Roy's arm. "Say goodbye to Jamie and the coaches, Phoe."

"Bye, Jamie. Bye, Coach and Coach." She hugs Roy. "Bye, Uncle Roy."

"See you this weekend," Roy tells her as he hugs her back. 

"Think about what I said," his sister says in a low tone to Roy, glancing at Jamie as she does. Jamie gives her a confused look, but she just grins as she pulls away. "Laters team," she says louder to the group. She takes Phoebe's hand and leaves.

*-*-*-*

“She’s gonna be a heartbreaker that gets legs broken,” Isaac says to the group as they watch the interaction on the sidelines. 

“And that’d be the lucky ones Coach likes,” Colin adds.

“Not just Coach,” Sam mutters.  

“Nah, Tartt would aim for faces,” Isaac says. “Kent would make sure no one’s walking away, but Tartt knows too well how they think. No helpin’ the ones that break her heart.”

“Make the outside match the inside,” Colin nods. “Break her heart, and they’ll be lucky if those two break their face.” A few of the players grimace, and the others nod in agreement. 

“Fucking get to it, or you’re all running laps til I say so!” Roy shouts. 

Jamie shakes his head as he joins them. “Might want to hustle, lads,” Jamie smirks. “As soon as she’s gone, he’ll run ya til you’re the ones sick on the pitch.” 

“Yeah, alright,” Isaac says. “Back to it.” 

They all head back to drills. 

*-*-*-*

Roy is not surprised, but still annoyed, to find Jamie waiting for him after training. The locker room is empty but for Jamie. Roy resists the urge to go back into the office, but he knows Jamie would just keep waiting. Jamie was already in his street clothes, scrolling through his phone, and sitting like the fucking prick never learned how to properly use a chair.

"What the fuck are you still doing here?" Roy asks.

"Took ya long enough," Jamie says, getting to his feet. "So your sister-"

"Don't even think about it, Tartt," Roy growls. 

Jamie holds his hands up at the sheer rage in Roy's tone, but he doesn't flinch or back away. "I wasn't gonna say anything like that, fuckin hell." 

"Then what?"

"Just wonderin' why they dropped by. Not usually her thing," Jamie says. "Gotta be important to drop by in person, no text or shit."

Roy knew he had a point. He'd been concerned himself when Phoebe had run up to him. The only reason he hadn't been scared shitless that something was wrong was that no one was in tears, or as much as in tears that any of the Kents get. That image was seared in his brain from when that no good waste of space ex of hers left them.

"They're fine," Roy says as they head out to the car park. 

"So we don't need to hide a body or slash any tires?" Jamie asks. If Roy didn't know any better, he would have thought Jamie sounded disappointed. When Roy doesn't say anything, Jamie looks up at him. "What?" Jamie asks. "Phoebe seemed fine, so I thought maybe-"

"Since when do you have thoughts about my sister? Since when do you have thoughts?!"

Jamie rolls his eyes. "Excuse me for giving a shit about your life and family."

Roy sighs. "Phoebe is fine. My sister, she is fine. She has to work a double this weekend and needs someone to watch Phoebe."

"I can-"

"No, you cannot," Roy stops walking as he reaches his car. "You have a match." 

"So do you, Coach," Jamie counters. 

"Well aware," Roy says. "She'll be in the box with Keeley."

"She'll love that," Jamie grins. 

"Like I said, they're fine, so go home, Tartt."

*-*-*-*

"There she is!" Jamie says, picking Phoebe up in a hug and setting her feet on the bench so she was out of the usual chaos of the locker room. He glanced around. Everyone was still riding the high of winning the match. "Have fun with Keeley in the owner's box?"

"Yes!" Phoebe was quick to answer. Jamie did his best to keep her focus on him. He usually wouldn't give a shit about his team's manners. Even when it was Keeley or Ms. Welton in the room, Phoebe is 8. She's an innocent kid.

"Tell me about it," he says as he puts on a new shirt. Thankful that Keeley must have timed it so most of them would be wrapping up in the locker room by the time Phoebe got there. She starts telling him all about watching the game. 

"You scored a goal!" Phoebe beams at him. Jamie can't help but smile.

Cockburn chuckles as he closes his cubby. 

"Colin did, too," Jamie says. 

"Keeley said you helped then, too," Phoebe says.

"That's what teammates do, Phoebs, you know that. You play on your own team."

"Less fun now that Uncle Roy coaches you," she says. A chorus of awws has Jamie looking over his shoulder. A few of the players were hovering.

"I'm sure your uncle misses coaching you, too," Sam says as he approaches.

"Richmond pays better," Jan states. "Would be silly to pick a children's league over-"

"Fuck off, Jan Maas," Jamie grumbles. "She's 8, and he still coaches her team when he can."

"Jamie…" Phoebe says, and she holds out her hand. Jamie feigns annoyance as he moves around the edge of the bench. He does reach up and put a hand on her arm to make sure she doesn't get knocked off balance by his movements. He gets his wallet out of his bag and hands her the money. She gestures again. He rolls his eyes and more money that he owes her from training. 

"Good," Phoebe smiles. The teammates around him laugh. Phoebe clearly had Jamie wrapped around her finger. 

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Jamie tells them. "She'll get you, too, if you don't watch your language." He grins at Phoebe. "Still think you should cash Uncle Roy's debt in for a pony," he says with a wink.

"Better!" Dani says excitedly. "A puppy."

"How is a puppy better than a pony? I thought most little girls wanted a pony." Sam asks. 

"You watch too many movies," Colin says. "Kitten, get a kitten. Less maintenance for your poor ma."

"Just what she needs, a grumpy black cat to match her grumpy and gloomy uncle," Jamie grins. 

"Maybe smaller l, like a guinea pig or a-"

"No one is getting her a pet," Roy grunts.

"Uncle Roy!" She reaches out for him from where she stands on the bench. Half the team looks like they are about to try and catch her if she falls. Sam actually reaches out.

"Mate, she's 8 and plays football. She's fine," Jamie rolls his eyes but grins. She's safer in this locker room than probably anywhere else.

Roy steps up into the spot Jamie had been in before he moved over to the other side of the bench. 

"Uh huh," Sam says. "And yet you braced her when you rounded the bench."

"He did put her up there," Dani points out. 

"Fewer elbows and…other things in her eye line up there," Jamie says. "I'm not driving her to therapy." 

"You would," both Sam and Dani laugh. 

Roy shakes his head and looks at Phoebe. "Ready to go?" He asks. 

"Keeley said we could get ice cream," She says. Roy is not surprised.

"If Keeley said so," Roy states. Earning a few murmurs from the room. Roy growls. Phoebe seems unphased.

"Can Jamie come too?" She asks.

"Yeah, coach, can Jamie come too?" Jamie smirks as he leans against the divider between his and Canterbury's compartments. Roy ignores him.

"You can ask him yourself, Phoebe. He's your friend, apparently."

"I still think he's your best friend," Phoebe says. Yeah, Roy left the door open for that one. That was on him. 

"Yet he says it’s Isaac," Roy attempts to deflect the attention her statement got him. 

"You wish," Isaac laughs. 

"Get your own best friend, Tartt," Colin agrees.

"That's just ridiculous. It's clearly, Sam. Did you not see the international matches?" Reynolds says.

"He can have more than one best friend, can't he?" Dani asks. "I do."

"Of course you do," Jamie chuckles as he makes sure he has everything he needs to leave. He looks up and when Phoebe calls his name.

"Want to get ice cream with us, Jamie?" He glances at Roy. Roy rolls his eyes and shrugs. 

"O' course, Phoebs," Jamie says. His smile softens. "Love to."

"Then get your arse moving, don't have all damn night." Roy helps Phoebe off the bench, and they head out the door. 

"She's right," Sam says. "They're clearly best friends."

Everyone in the locker room murmurs in agreement. 

"Is Tartt with her mum or something?" Someone asks. 

"God no," Sam says. "He'd be dead if was."

"Fair point," Isaac says. 

"But Jamie Tartt isn't the old Jamie Tartt," Dani counters. 

"Yeah," Colin says. "But Roy Kent is still Roy Kent. He'd have destroyed Tartt for that."

"He has threatened to kill Tartt for a lot less," Sam admits.

"Yeah," the others agree. 

*-*-*-*

"Glare any harder, and you might melt the cone with the heat of it," Keeley nudges Roy as she says it. Roy blinks before looking over at her. She is obviously amused by how he is acting. 

"How is this not weird to you?" Roy says in a harsh whisper. Glancing over at where Phoebe is knocking around a balled-up wrapper as a ball on the tabletop nearby.  She and Jamie had been seeing how long they could keep it going without it hitting the floor. It gets oddly competitive when it shifts to who can get it between two napkin dispensers more while not letting their ice cream melt. It only got worse once their ice cream was gone. Though Roy found it as funny as Phoebe did when Jamie got a brain freeze from it.  

"It's like minding two children," Roy complains. 

"Would you rather have to entertain her yourself?" Keeley asks. Roy just grunts. Phoebe cheers when she lands her last shot. 

"Well played," Jamie grins and looks over at Roy. "Almost done, old man?" Roy has to resist making an inappropriate comeback. There are children, not just Phoebe, around. And normally, Roy doesn't give a fuck what people think about him. But he wasn’t actually that upset about anything. Jamie had actually gone out of his way to look after Phoebe in the locker room. He'd watched them through the window in the office while talking to Beard about the match. He could tell Jamie was trying to keep her focus on him and not the room full of half-dressed footballers. And in the past, he might have thought he was just being an attention needing twat, but Jamie had been keeping track of who was where in the room. Keeping himself between her and the rest of the room. So he'd give him a bit more leeway. And Keeley was right. Phoebe was having fun. They still have another day to keep her busy. Having Jamie keep her busy for a bit hasn't done any harm. Instead of saying anything, he just finishes his ice cream cone and gets up. He holds a hand out to Keeley, and she takes it as she gets up. "Let's go."

"Thanks for the invite," Jamie says to Phoebe as they walk back to Nelson Road. Jamie giving her a piggyback ride. She smiles, shifting so she can pat his head. He laughs. So does Keeley. "You too, granddad." He says to Roy when the laughter dies down. Roy does roll his eyes at that. Roy wonders how this became his life. And that thought made him wonder if this was a good thing or a bad thing. His gut reaction is, of course, it's bad. Jamie is the king prick of pricks. But he knows that's not true anymore. Jamie had picked to go with them to ice cream instead of the club to celebrate with the team. Jamie'd rather spend his time entertaining Roy's 8-year-old niece at an ice cream parlor while Roy and Keeley enjoyed their own treats than party with the boys. Or even find a casual hook-up like the old Jamie would probably do. No. Instead, he was carrying a sugar-fueled child on his back despite it being less than an hour out from playing a full football match. Roy's knee would have been protesting if it was him. They stop when they reach Keeley's car. 

"What are you doing now?" Phoebe asks Jamie when he lets her down.

"He should go home. Rest and recover," Roy says. 

"Not going to join the team at the club?" Keeley asks. 

He shrugs. "Just going to head home. Catch up on something streaming." 

"Nothing fun?" Phoebe asks.

"You heard Coach Uncle Roy," he grinned. "Gotta recover."

Phoebe gives him a hug, and he heads to his car. 

*-*-*-*

After Phoebe is down for the night, Keeley hands Roy a beer. "You going to tell me what is going on, or am I going to have to just wait it out until you crack up?" 

Roy considers ignoring her question, but he knows she will just bring it up again later. 

"Just something my sister has been bothering me about," he says. 

"Do I get specifics, or am I just to go off that vague nothing of a sentence?" 

Roy huffs. "She's been on my case about Jamie."

"What about Jamie?" That piqued her interest. "Does your sister want to shag Jamie Tartt?"

"Fuck off." He cringes at the idea. "I hope not." 

"Okay, then what is she on about?" 

Roy has not been able to figure out how to say that part out loud. Especially to Keeley. They are barely back together, and Jamie is her ex. She still cares for Jamie, and Jamie has never denied he still loves Keeley in one way or another. Jamie maintains he's glad the two got back together. He had told Roy he was a dumb fuck of an old man and even dumber than Jamie himself was for dumping Keeley. Roy had agreed with at least part of Jamie's assessment on that. He had fucked up by pushing Keeley away. But Jamie had been there to keep Roy out of his head. Even if he was just pushing his buttons to give him a vent for his frustration. Filing the silence in training with annoying factoids that seemed infuriating at the time, but looking back, were just keeping his mind focused on something else. Roy hadn't realized how much he had leaned on Jamie. He had gotten to the point he'd started noticing stupid little things that Jamie would appreciate when Jamie wasn’t even around. Whether it was some stupid video on the internet or someone else's fuck up that he knew they could both find amusing. Fuck this was frustrating to think about. His mind had been drifting more and more to Jamie Tartt during the quiet moments of his life. 

"Roy?" Keeley shakes his shoulders. He grunts. "Now I know something is up. Spill it."

Roy growls, not at her but at his own stupidity. Keeley just waits him out. 

So he tells her about his sister's visit to Nelson Road. About how she had been questioning him about his feelings for Jamie since Uncle's day. Keeley is damn near giddy by the time he finishes talking. 

"You love Jamie," she grins.

"I love you," he counters. 

"And Jamie!" 

"Would you fucking shut it," he hisses. He glances over at the stairs and silently waits to see if he hears Phoebe. Keeley glares at him. And he knows he fucked up. That had been too harsh. "Sorry, that was-"

"A bit harsh, yeah?" She takes a pull of her drink. "You're lucky I love you."

"I am," he admits. "But I'd rather not Phoebe hear this."

"But you haven't denied you love Jamie." 

Roy groans, rubbing his eyes. 

"You can't, can you?" Keeley grins. "You can love more than one person. The heart is a bitch like that."

"Keeley," he grumbles. 

"You aren't the only one," she admits. 

"What?" Roy asks. 

"It's like…” she starts to explain. “He's kept all the sweet things I genuinely enjoyed when I was him and grew out of most, if not all, the bad bits."

"He's changed so much," Roy agrees. "And I don't know if that's endearing or infuriating."

"Well, you love him, so clearly, you have your answer."

"You just admitted you still love him too."

"Yeah, but I loved him before. It's new for you." 

"Well, what the fuck are we going to do about it?" He asks. 

"Honestly?"

"Yes," he growls. 

"Drag him to the bed and settle it the fun ways," she says, taking a drink.

"Fuck off," Roy growls.

"I'm serious, babe," Keeley says. "He went to get ice cream instead of clubbing with the fellas. He asked if he needed to help you murder someone. He'd risk his career for you. He is ready and waiting for you at insane hours of the day already. He had a poster of you in his room as a kid. Admitted he loved watching you play. He still looks at you like you're his hero. Like he can't believe you would let him have even a fraction of your time and attention. Roy, he cares what you think. He lights up like the sun when you tell him he did a good job. Can you really not see how much he wants your approval? Your attention? Good or bad, he lives for it." 

Roy has to look away as she speaks. That was a hell of a list. How has he missed it all? 

"So you think he'd-" he slowly starts to say.

"If we texted him right now,” she interrupts him. “I guarantee he'd be here in minutes. If you asked him to do anything, he would."

"I doubt that," Roy vocalizes the little voice in his brain. The one that doubts most everything.

"Fine, I'll prove it." She grabs her phone and starts typing a message. 

"What are you-" 

"There. Done," she sends a message.

"What did you just do?" Roy asks, dread pooling in his stomach.

"Invited him tomorrow night," She says. 

He is slightly relieved she hadn't invited him to come round now. 

*-*-*-*

Jamie has the worst timing when not on the pitch. During training, during a match, he is a master at timing shots. He knows when and where to strike. As for his life outside the pitch, that has been a mess since, probably forever. Like now, he’s just kicked back on his sofa, tv on for mostly just background noise as he scrolls through social media and other sites on his phone. The match had been good. He was sending some of the best reactions and headlines to the team chat as he does. He had just taken a drink because Roy would probably kill him if he didn’t hydrate when he got a text from Keeley. He opened it and choked on his drink. He ended up coughing so hard his eyes watered. She told him to come round tomorrow night. That they had something important to talk to him about. Jamie’s chest hurts, and it isn’t entirely from the coughing fit he just had. Did he do something wrong? He thought they had a good time earlier, and it wasn’t even an inappropriate or raunchy good time. It was kid friendly. He kept Phoebe happy and safe. Isn’t that like Roy’s number one priority? Always. And Jamie is happy to help with that. Did he do too much? Or is it the whole locker room thing? She had found him there. He’d kept her from seeing anything she’d need therapy to forget. Was it something he didn’t do? The lads wouldn’t mess with her. They fear Roy far too much. But Roy didn’t scare him as much as he might have in the past. But fear wasn't his motivating factor for once. Jamie wanted to look after Phoebe because she was just a kid. She deserved to feel safe and happy. Roy might hate that Phoebe’s dad is not in the picture, but Jamie knows there are worse things than an absent father. An abusive one that resents your very existence. One that you can’t get away from. A dad like that is something he hopes Phoebe never has to even think about. He hopes her friends, classmates, teammates, all of them never have to go through what Jamie did. What Jamie still has to deal with. But Phoebe has Roy, at least. She doesn’t need a father. She has her mother. She has her Uncle Roy. She even has Keeley and now Jamie. The more people in her corner is a good thing, right? So it can’t be about all that, right? Then what else could it be? It’s Keeley, so it’s probably not about the match or training. He looks at the message again. He probably is taking too long to respond. So he sends her a message saying he’d be there and sets his phone on the table. So much for rest and recovery. He knows his dumb brain is not going to let this go.

*-*-*-*

"Phoebe go home?" Jamie asks when Keeley lets him in. 

"Yeah, disappointed?" Keeley asks.

Jamie shrugs, aiming for nonchalant but coming off as anxious and a bit exhausted. 

"Roy's in there," she gestures past the stairs to the living room. Jamie still seems to hesitate. "I'm right behind you, babe." 

Roy notices it immediately. Something was not right with Jamie. That was clear as day as Jamie made his way into Keeley’s living room. The striker looked more exhausted now than he had when they watched him leave the Nelson Road car park. 

“Are you okay?” Keeley finally asks as she follows the younger man. 

Jamie waves it off. "I'm fine," he insists.

“Don't exactly look it. You end up out with the team after you left?” Roy asks. 

“Nah, went home, just shit sleep,” Jamie attempts to shrug it off as nothing. He was not going to tell them his brain was thinking of a million ways this conversation could end badly for him. "Been worse, yeah?"

“Nightmares?” Keeley asks. Jamie shakes his head. 

“It wasn’t your dad was it?” Roy asks. One of these days he was going to make James Tartt, Sr. pay for what he's done. All the shit he put his son through. That line of thinking is cut off for now as Jamie speaks. 

“Wasn’t him. Wasn’t anyone, really. It’s nothin’,” he insists. “You’re the ones with something important to discuss.” Keeley looks at Roy before looking back to Jamie. Her brows furrow. 

“How about tea,” Roy says before turning toward the kitchen. "Already started, shouldn't take long."

Keeley drags Jamie to the sofa and makes him sit as Roy leaves the room. She sits beside him. She frowns again when he puts more space between them by moving to the end of the sofa. Or at least as far as he can with her insane amount of throw pillows. That doesn't sit well with her. He looks so uneasy. Jamie used to act like he owned the place when he came over. Sure he was less of a prick the last few times, but this was not even how the new Jamie usually was with her. “Jamie…were you worried about this?” She gestures between Jamie and herself. "About this talk?" Jamie doesn’t answer beyond a shrug.  "You aren’t in trouble or anything, babe.”  

“I didn’t say that I thought I was,” Jamie tries to argue. His guard was up. He didn't want to feel stupid or look weak having worried over something this…well he wouldn't say insignificant. She had said it was important. 

“Didn’t say you didn’t either,” Keeley counters. And he knew she had him there. The old part of Jamie that still pops up in his brain sometimes tells him to play it off as if he didn’t actually care. Or to just be a prick. But he doesn’t really want to do that. He’s not going to turn it on her and make her feel bad because his brain jumps to worst-case scenarios. He sighs and leans back until his head is resting on the back of the sofa, and he’s staring at the ceiling. 

“Sorry,” He says but avoids looking at her. “You said it was important, and my brain ran with it.” 

“Jamie,” she shifts, half kneeling on the sofa, and bracing her hand on his shoulder to try and get him to look at her. “Yes, what we want to talk about is important. But it's not bad.” “So I didn’t do something wrong, didn’t fuck anything up yesterday?” She goes to run her fingers through his hair to soothe him but she stops when she feels him tense up as he speaks.

“What?” Roy asks as he sets down a tray with steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table. “Match was a win. You played well, and went for ice cream. What would you have fucked up?”

“That’s what I couldn’t figure out,” Jamie admits, finally looking at them. 

“So you’re saying you got a text from us, saying we wanted to talk to you about something,” Roy starts as he hands Jamie his tea.

“Important. Something important.” Jamie adds as he takes the mug.

“Okay, something important. And you assumed we were mad at you for something?” Roy is still trying to figure out where this is coming from.

“I mean, you’re usually mad about something,”  Jamie states. “Wouldn't be you if you weren’t.”

Keeley tries not to grin but fails. Roy grunts. “Fair enough.”

“But I’m not,” Keeley says. 

“Usually are with me, and that’s fair. I’ve fucked up a lot since you’ve known me,” Jamie counters. 

“That was before,” Keeley says without hesitation. “That was a very different you, babe. Nowadays, you’re more likely to apologize for something you had zero control over than for something you actually did. And that’s assuming you’d have anything to actually apologize for in the first place.”

“Which you don’t,” Roy reiterates. “You train your arse off and barely complain about it anymore. You look after your mates. Keep ‘em in line if needed. You spent yesterday holding court for a stadium full of people and who knows how many more on live tv, then entertaining an 8-year-old at an ice cream parlor.  How could I be mad at you?”

“You’re Roy fuckin Kent. Ya can usually find something,” Jamie states.

“Well, I’m not. Got it?” Roy says. “I’m not mad. But I will be if you keep being a prick.”

“Roy,” Keeley glares at him. 

“What? I don’t want to be mad about anything, not right now, at least. Not with what we were going to talk about. Anxious, of fucking course. Angry, no.”

“Why are you anxious if it isn’t a bad thing?” Jamie asks. Now clearly confused. 

“Because what we are going to ask you is not something people would consider normal,” Keeley answers. 

“Not bad, but not normal?” Jamie tries to sort it out.

“Exactly. It’s unconventional, but could be fun,” Keeley grins, moving back to start carding her fingers through his longer hair. Ever since he had grown it out her fingers had itched to touch it. Style it. Just feel Jamie melt under her touch again as her nails scrape his scalp. This time, he lets her. He holds himself back from going completely to mush under her touch, but he doesn't fight how comforting it is. Keeley and Roy see it as a win. She can help but smile at them. 

 “So? What is it?” Jamie has to ask, his tone and his body language now showing he is less guarded and much more comfortable.

Keeley and Roy exchange a look. 

“You want to say it or…” Keeley initiates. 

“Don’t look at me,” Roy huffs. “This was your idea.”

“And you agreed to it,” Keeley insists.

“Because you-”

“Seems a bit bad if you can’t even say it,” Jamie points out. “Gonna keep going roundabout all night? If so, might need to order takeaway at this rate.” 

Roy glares at him, but the prick has a point. He takes a drink if his tea to stall for time.

“We want you to join us,” Keeley says. 

“Join you where? I’m already here,” Jamie says, his mind is too distracted by the feel of her fingers along his scalp to look deeper at Keeley's statement. 

Roy rolls his eyes. Sometimes he forgets how direct you have to be with Jamie. Subtlety and nuance are often lost on Jamie Tartt. He is a genius on the pitch. And he knows a lot of shit about topic Roy couldn’t even imagine knowing anything about. But sometimes, he misses the obvious points. And as frustrating as it might be at times, Roy still finds himself wanting to protect this one particular idiot more than any other and help him. Teach him. Fuck, Roy was absolutely lost on Jamie fucking Tartt.  Unfortunately, he, too, had been anxious about this conversation all damn day and was on his last nerve. 

“For fuck’s sake, Tartt,” Roy sighs.

“What did I do?” Jamie starts to get defensive, pulling away from Keeley to look better at Roy. 

“Steady on,” Keeley levels Roy with a serious look. She puts a hand on Jamie’s chest. “We mean with us, like in our relationship, not just at our place physically.”

Jamie is pretty sure his brain has short circuited. He cannot have heard what he thinks he just did. He looks back and forth between the two of them. “You…you’re serious?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Keeley says, smiling at him. Roy nods, hesitant to say anything that might ruin anything. He’s screwed up his relationships too many times. He’ll leave this to Keeley.  

“Me?” Jamie asks. “You want me…”

“Yes,” Keeley affirms.

“You both do?” 

“Yes,” Keeley repeats. “We both do, right, Roy?” She looks at Roy, eyes pleading for him to at least act like he isn’t a total prick. 

Roy grunts but adds. “Wouldn’t have brought it up if we didn’t.”

“Like a one-time thing or…" Jamie says. He still can’t believe it.

“Fuck off,” Roy grimaces. 

Keeley shifts so she has both hands on Jamie’s chest. “No, Jamie. Not a one-time thing. Because I miss you, Jamie. I miss being with you. And Roy, he…” She looks at Roy.

“Fuck it,” Roy grumbles before sitting in the seat Keeley was practically out of. Pulls her on his lap before gripping the back of Jamie’s neck and pulling him into his side before slotting their lips together. Jamie is almost too stunned to react.

“Jesus, Roy, warn a girl first,” Keeley says. “And let the man agree to it before you inhale his face. He may not slap you with an assault charge, but-” She’s cut off when Jamie pulls her into a hug. 

“I missed you,” Jamie admits. 

“So, is that a yes?” Keeley asks, her tone filled with hope and only a little muffled by his shoulder. 

“Of fucking course, that’s a yes,” Jamie laughs. “I might be a bit daft, but I’m not a complete numpty.”  

“You’re not daft,” Keeley says. She leans back enough to put a hand on his face. “You’re brilliant.”

“You might not be a fucking rocket scientist, but she’s not wrong. Selling yourself short, Tartt. On the pitch, you’re a fucking genius. Off the pitch, you know the most insane shit I couldn’t even pretend to know.”

Jamie ducks his head to hide the blush dusting his cheeks. 

"So adorable," Keeley coos. 

"That is the nicest thing you have ever said to me," Jamie murmurs, glancing at Roy.

"Don't get used to it," Roy grumbles.

"Or do," Keeley kisses Jamie's still pink cheek. "He's lying. He knows you thrive on praise."

Roy grunts. "No one would believe you if you tell anyone." 

Jamie actually laughs at that. And Roy would die before he admits it out loud, but he loves that sound. 

"This is really happening, innit?” Jamie asks. “I didn’t smash my face during the match and am in so fucked up coma dream, or like some head trauma hallucination, right?” 

“Well, then we’d be figments of your imagination, so how would we know?” Roy points out.

Keeley elbows Roy in the ribs, earning her a grunt. “You aren’t hallucinating or dreaming.” 

Roy pinches Jamie’s side. Jamie yelps and pulls away. “Real enough?” Roy smirks. 

“Not nice,” Keeley glares at Roy. She takes the opportunity to slip her hand under Jamie’s pullover and shirt to gently run her hand along the spot Roy had pinched. Jamie’s breath hitches, and he melts into her touch. She grins, “There’s my good boy.” Jamie groans.

“That really does the trick, doesn’t it?” Roy laughs. Jamie glares at him, but Roy just laughs harder. He’d seen Jamie’s glare make people flinch. But this one had no heat to it. It was a bluff. Clearly, he was enjoying himself too much to really be pissed. When the glare fails, Jamie pouts a bit. And Roy bites back a sigh.

“Fuck off with that pout,” Roy growls. He reaches over and pulls Jamie back to where he was before he pulled away. “This is a good thing, remember?” He reminds him as he tugs on the back of Jamie’s pullover until Keeley helps take it off of him. His shirt is quick to follow. Jamie nods. Keeley kisses him as her hands roam his chest and abs. She swallows his moan.

“Didn’t hear you, Tartt?” Roy teases as his own hands reach out and touch. Skin he’d been dying to touch for longer than he would ever admit to every time he saw Jamie in the locker room. 

“Very,” Jamie breathlessly admits.

“Good,” Roy nods. “Because this is just the start of what we have planned for you.” 

“Fuck yeah,” Jamie says. “Let’s go.” Keeley laughs as Roy pulls him in for a kiss. 

“Fucking hot,” Keeley says as she watches them. “We gonna move this upstairs or what?”

Roy pulls back and gets a good look at both Jamie and Keeley. “Inna minute,” he says, and he grips the back of his own shirt. Keeley shifts over into Jamie’s lap so Roy can get his shirt off. Jamie happily accepts her and frees her from her own shirt. 

“Fuck, I missed you,” Jamie says before moving his lips to the skin below her ear and along her jaw. He wasn’t exactly a selfish lover in the past, and he wasn’t a religious man, but he’d thank any deity listening for the chance to have her back in his life like this. Roy being there was just icing on the cake. 

“Fucking gorgeous,” Roy admits. 

"She really is," Jamie murmurs against her neck.

"I meant both of you, you fucking prick," Roy reaches up and cards his fingers through Jamie's hair. "Those pretty fucking lips of yours."

"Thought I was an ugly, ugly boy, with bad hair?" Jamie smirks. 

"Fuck you," Roy growls as he pretty much attacks Jamie's lips with his own. 

"That's why I said we should go upstairs," Keeley says from where she is sandwiched between the two very shirtless fucking fit men.  "Although I'm not complainin'." She runs her nails along Roy's abs making him moan into Jamie's mouth. Jamie took advantage of it and deepened the kiss. But Keeley wasn't done being cheeky. She grins as she grinds down on Jamie's already tented clothed lap. A shock of pleasure runs down the striker's spine and he moans loudly. His arm snakes around her torso to hold her tighter. The other goes up to the back of Roy's neck. Fingers gripping tight like if he lets go it will all just vanish. Roy growls.

"Oh, that was a fun one," Keeley giggles. 

"Upstairs." Roy growls. "Now."

#tw: swearing #tw: cursing #tw: physical violence #tw: mentions of physical violence #tw: abuse #tw: mentions of abuse #tw: anger issues #tw: anger #tw: fear #tw: anxiety #tw: self esteem issues #tw: polyamory #tw: Mentions of hospitals #tw: Mentions of head injuries #tw: Mentions of coma #ted lasso fic #jamie tartt #roy kent #keeley jones #phoebe kent #Phoebe O'Sullivan #dr. o'sullivan #Roy's sister #roy x jamie x keeley #roy x keeley x jamie

[crinkled-emotions]

Day 1: Nights spent by the toilet, rubbing A's shoulder

We're finally here! I kinda felt like maybe I wouldn't get to this point but here we are, ready to publish day 1!

The way these are going to work is very similar to my other fics: they will vary in length, the warnings will be the first thing you see (where applicable) and then the fic itself will be under a readmore. We're starting with a bang, but there are a couple different types of fics coming with multiple ships and, of course, some Dagger time!

This particular fic was partially inspired by one I wrote last December - find it here!

Warnings for this fic: emeto

-

Rapping his knuckles on the bar table in front of Phoenix and Bob, Payback immediately had their attention.

“Bagman’s out the front pukin’, might want to go check on him.”

“Why not you?” Bob replied. Payback sent him a look and Bob sighed.

“Well it can’t be me either; I already lined up a game of pool with Fanboy and Rooster.”

With that, Bob got up and followed Payback into the crowd, leaving Phoenix on her lonesome. For such a big team, no one really minded having a moment to themselves. She glanced around the Hard Deck, taking in the rest of her team. Coyote was nowhere to be found which was odd; he was usually one of the first to suggest a team outing on a Saturday night, shortly followed by Hangman. Considering how much they fed off each other’s shithead energy, no one was really shocked that Penny had them thrown overboard at least once a month... maybe twice, if they were really leaning into their naughty adult children act (terrorising Rooster at the piano). She’d barely seen Hangman tonight, but a glance from Penny and Maverick told her they had information she could use. As she walked past she gently touched Rooster’s shoulder. She always did it when passing him- he did it too. They used it as a way to check in with each other more than anything.

Up at the bar, Penny offered Phoenix a bottle of water and a gentle smile.

“I saw Seresin looking a little green earlier; do you want Mav to come with you?”

“Hey!” Maverick protested, but the corner of his lips twitched upwards. Phoenix shook her head.

“I’ve known Seresin since before either of us were legally allowed to drink; we’re fine. If Bob asks tell him I’m taking Hangman home.”

“Sure thing.”

Penny walked off to serve an incoming customer, but Maverick paused for a moment.

“Are you sure, Tasha? I was only joking-“

“-it’s better that you don’t, he’ll crawl out of his skin,” Phoenix reassured, “it’s nothing personal.”

“I understand. We’re here if you need anything.”

Never had Phoenix met a CO like Maverick; though, to be fair, she wasn’t sure there was anyone like Maverick. Paternal but firm and with a quick temper. She’d been one of the only people allowed to know the full story between him and Bradley; it felt like a privilege and she continued to treat it as one.

-

“Hey; what’s going on? Did your drink get spiked?”

Natasha had seen Jake in a lot of compromising positions over the almost ten years of knowing each other; from her roommate’s bed in the academy to the stomach flu of ’09 that had taken out him, her and Bradley all in one swoop. It’s still a topic all of them refuse to talk about. Sitting in the dirt around the side of the Hard Deck, Phoenix barely blinked as she reached to help him up. Jake grimaced.

“Wait, don’t move me yet. I didn’t get spiked; I think it’s a cold at worst. Relax, Tasha.”

Another thing Phoenix learned very early on in their frenemyship; Hangman will understate everything going on in the hopes it gets him left alone until he’s ready to accept help (read: most likely requiring hospital treatment or, at the very least, a cleaner with a strong stomach... cooking dinner ended up requiring both once).

“Yeah, sure, and I haven’t done this for you before. Do you know where Coyote is?”

“He’s not here.”

“I know that; where is he specifically?”

In response, Jake just shrugged and Phoenix determined if she didn’t laugh, she’d probably smack him. Hefting an arm around her shoulder, she pulled him to stand. Immediately he snorted and Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Okay, man, out with it.”

“Have you ever thought of suing the county? Y’know, for putting the sidewalk too close to your ass- ow! Hey, I’m sick!”

That time, he did get smacked.

With his keys in hand, Natasha guided (read: dragged) Jake back to his truck. Climbing into the driver’s seat she sighed and reached for the handle to pull it forward; for someone who had just lost everything they’d eaten over the last 24 hours, Jake seemed to find this rather funny from the passenger seat.

“Fuck you, Seresin.”

That shut him up for the time being. They only had a short window to get him home before the nausea would take over and Phoenix wasn’t down for pulling over for him to hurl on the side of a street.

-

In the end they barely made it back to his place. Phoenix had barely pulled up before he threw himself out the passenger side to gag rather dramatically on to his driveway. She rounded the back of the truck to put a hand on his back, wincing at the warmth radiating off his body. Jake shivered, turning to look at Natasha.

“This sucks.”

She snorted.

“It does, even more when it’s not because you had tequila the night before. C’mon, you aren’t doing anything else but going to bed tonight.”

“No, wait; I don’t think I’m done.”

“You’re empty, dude. Anything further and you’re gonna tear your throat.”

Jake winced, sucking in a breath.

“Promise you’re not gonna laugh?”

“You know I can’t promise that.”

Jake might have laughed, but it was shortly followed by a grimace. Using her body weight like they’d taught her in basic, Natasha hauled him up to stand.

“Let’s make this quick,” Jake said. Natasha winced.

“Gotcha. Bedroom or bathroom?”

Jake stayed quiet. Natasha got the hint.

-

With Hangman curled up in the bathroom for the time being, Phoenix took the opportunity to take a quick inventory of the kitchen and medicine basket on top of his refrigerator. He had Tylenol but no Advil; everything in the refrigerator was either expired, meal prepped or not useful in this situation (read: a carton of milk). She huffed, glancing over her shoulder.

“Hey Bagman, you do know what a cheat day is right?”

No response. She couldn’t blame him.

At least he had a thermometer; she’d guesstimated he had a fever but confirmation would be a good start. Finally, she located bottled water in the mostly empty pantry and she grabbed a couple to put by the couch. After a couple minutes of searching she paused in her steps when she heard the retching start again. Phoenix cursed under her breath and jogged back to the bathroom. Doordashing those missing supplies could wait.

“Jake? You good?”

“Fine,” he groaned, “just nauseous.”

He was so past the point of nauseous. Tentatively, Phoenix took a seat on the bathroom floor by his side. Her hand hovered over his shoulders for a moment, eventually making contact with his shirt when his arms came up to brace himself over the toilet.

“You know what you need?” She started after a moment. Hangman turned to glance at her over his shoulder.

“A hug?”

“A toothbrush.”

Despite the fact that Hangman was miserable as fuck and Phoenix could feel her skin starting to crawl considering the stench of puke in the room, they both snorted.

-

For the first thirty seconds of being awake, Phoenix couldn’t remember where she was or why she wasn’t in her bed. Instinctively she went to glance over her shoulder just to make sure she didn’t have someone else in her bed, only to meet the back of the couch... wait. That wasn’t her couch. It was Hangman’s. She’d crashed there after finally managing to get him into bed, promising to listen out in case he needed help in the night. By the time she’d gotten him to bed he’d brushed his teeth, had a couple sips of water and downed Tylenol, and was ready to pass out until the cycle restarted.

Sure enough; it had indeed started.

Phoenix got up, heading through Hangman’s room and into his ensuite. Crouched over the toilet, Hangman looked like he was not having a good time between the sweating, shaking, and the... y’know, the retching probably didn’t help. The offer of comfort came a lot easier to Phoenix that time, kneeling by him to calmly rub his back when he winced.

“You alright?” Phoenix asked. Hangman hummed, reaching up to wipe at his forehead.

“Killin’ me.”

“Well, work should be quiet on Monday if you’re dead. Maybe I should go, leave you to die in peace.”

“Don’t go.”

Oh. That was new.

“Sit back. I think you’re good for now.”

Phoenix reached for the face towel sitting on the end of the sink, dunked it in the water, and then handed it over.

“You and me; we take this to the grave. Clear?” She said. Jake nodded, groaning as he turned to rest his head on her shoulder. Natasha went quiet for a moment, then she checked for a fever again.

“I have an idea. Get up, asshole, I can carry you I just don’t want to.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

-

Of all the things Natasha had expected Jake to do, she didn’t even think about getting all of five minutes into the shitty late night show she’d left on low only for Jake to toss a pillow on to her lap and rest his head on it, pulling her hand into his hair.

“You good?”

“My stomach hates me more right now than it did in flight school.”

Natasha snorted in amusement, her hand remaining on his shoulder.

“If you promise not to hurl on me, you can stay there.”

He slowly drifted to sleep. Despite the fact that her thighs were probably going to die if he slept long enough to start feeling better, Phoenix figured there were worse places for him to be.

-

#Top Gun Maverick #Top Gun: Maverick #TGM #Natasha Phoenix Trace #Natasha Trace #Phoenix #Callsign: Phoenix #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin #Hangman #Callsign: Hangman #sickfic #emeto #G's Dec 2023 Prompts! #Day 1

[sparklemichele]

A Boy Like That

As the warm, tingling wave rose and washed through your body you grabbed Elvis thick, black hair and shook as the wave lapped over you. Elvis looked up from between your thighs and smiled at you. You could not help but smile back and after a few minutes of collecting your breath Elvis pulled you in his arms. As you laid content in his arms your thoughts drifted to your auntie. If she saw you right now she would be highly angry and disappointed. She was not a fan of Elvis.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked leaning over to kiss your lips softly. You lifted your lips to him to accept his beautiful lips. “My auntie.” You sighed. Elvis sat up and let out a deep sigh.

“How long is Big Mama going to be pissed at me?”

“I’m sure for a while Elvis, you stole her song.”

Elvis shook his head and sat up in bed.

“The words are mostly different.” Elvis sighed again this time in frustration. You sat up and caressed his cheek.

“Elvis please don’t be naïve. The colonel knew what he was doing. He didn’t give a damn about my auntie.” The colonel pissed you off and you did not like him at all. He felt the same about you since he saw you stumbling out of Elvis’s bedroom one night. 

 You knew he was using Elvis, however Elvis did not want to come to reality about the Colonel. Elvis pretty much let the Colonel run the ship, but when it came to you Elvis stood his ground. The Colonel did not hide his disapproval of you and Elvis together. According to the Colonel his fans would become hostile if it became public, he was dating a Colored. Elvis was already in hot water for his performances as they were deemed inappropriate because of his lyrics and the way he moved his body. So, the Colonel raised hell when Elvis told him about you. When Elvis relayed the reaction, you just shrugged. You didn’t expect a different one.

“I’m sorry I took the song from Big Mama.” Elvis apologized.

“You need to tell her that not me.”

“I will and I will give her some of the money I made off the song.”

“That’s a good start.”

“You still love me?” He asked, grabbing your chin to turn your face to look at him.

“Of course, I still love you.”

Elvis smiled and kissed your lips and slowly started making love to you.

Later that evening the urgent knock-on Elvis’s bedroom woke you both up.

“Who is it?” He called out in his smooth, southern accent. He sat up in bed and pushed his hair out of his face. “Who is it?” he asked a little louder when he didn’t receive an answer.

“It’s mom Boobiee. Y/N’s aunt is here, and she doesn’t look happy.” Gladys relayed to her son through the lock door. You were still a little groggy but sprung up in bed when Gladys mentioned your aunt. Shit! What was she doing here?! How did she find out about you two?

“We’re coming momma!” Elvis shouted so Glayds could hear. You both sprung up and got dressed wondering how bad Big Momma would lay into you both. You both slowly crept hesitantly downstairs hand in hand ready for your auntie’s wrath. You both found the Colonel and your aunt standing at the bottom of the stairs. You looked at your aunt and the look on her face made you stop in your tracks. “Come on love.” Elvis encouraged as he pulled your arm to follow him the rest of the way down the stairs.

“Auntie wh-” that was all you could get out before Big Mama went off.

“What the hell are you doing here with this white boy!! You know what he’s done to me! How could you?! He’s steals Black folks music! How can you date a boy like that?!”

“How did you find out?” You asked her as you couldn’t argue back.

“I told her, she had the right to know where her niece is all hours of the night.” The Colonel told you. You were so pissed at him you wanted to scratch his eyes out. He was a liar. He just was trying as usual to break up you and Elvis. You glared at him, and a small smile played on his lips. That little smirk sent you over the edge and you found yourself lunging at him. Before you could scratch his eyes out like you wanted, Elvis grabbed your waist and stopped you in your tracks.

“You son of a bitch!” You shouted at the Colonel. “Why don’t you mind your business for once?!”

“Any and all these regarding my boy I handle and you young lady will damage his career!” The Colonel shouted right back not backing down.

Elvis held you back as you and the Colonel went back and forth. Big Mama joined in and soon all three of you were arguing as Elvis held you tighter.

“Big Mama, I love her I won’t do her wrong!!” Elvis tried not to shout, but he was getting frustrated from all the arguing.

“How do you love her and won’t even have her on your arm in public?! You are hiding her like some bed wench.”

“Auntie, that was my choice. He doesn’t need any more attention from people as it is. They are already trying to silence him and his music.” You tried to explain. Big Mama huffed and rolled her eyes at you. Elvis slowly released your waist as he felt your anger had slightly subside.

“Are you alright?” He whispered to you leaning in your ear.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You lifted your face to him and kissed his lips. You heard the Colonel and your auntie grunt in frustration.

“I’m not letting her go Colonel. I listen to you on everything when it comes to my career, but I am not going to listen to you when it comes to who I love.” Elvis sternly told the Colonel.

“Don’t blame me when you lose fans.”

“I don’t need people who don’t accept Y/N as a fan. Big Mama I am truly sorry for taking your song. I promise to share fifty percent of any income I make from that song to you.”

“Now Elvis-” the Colonel tried to interject.

“No, Colonel. I want Big Mama to have fifty percent of all my past and future earnings of the song.” Elvis voice raised a little to get his point across. He was not letting the Colonel change his mind. He was going to do right by your aunt.

Big Mama stood stunned at what Elvis told her. No white artist she ever knew ever offered to pay back the black creator for what they have stolen from them. Maybe her niece was having a good effect on Elvis after all, and he was not using her. Besides him stealing her song she was worried about him just using her niece, but she can see and feel that Elvis really loved her. Maybe he wasn’t as bad of a person as she had thought.

“Big Mama would you like to stay for dinner?” You heard Gladys ask from the corner in the foyer she had been watching everything take place. She knew her son was not going to give you up. She was worried about what people would say or do to Elvis if they found out about you. Gladys had grown to love you as much as Elvis and she was happy in a way you did stay in the background as she knew how evil people can be. She did not want any harm to come to you.

“Auntie stay for dinner.” You went up and hugged your auntie’s neck. “He loves me auntie.” You whispered to her. Big Mama nodded her head in confirmation that she could see Elvis’s love for you, and she would stay for dinner.

You pulled from your auntie’s embrace and turned to Colonel. “Colonel, that would be all for tonight.”

The Colonel looked flabbergasted at you telling him to leave. Who did you think you were?

Elvis?” Colonel looked at Elvis.

“That would be all.” Elvis agreed with you.

The Colonel watched you, Elvis, Big Mama and Gladys head to the dining room. You needed to be knocked down a few levels. You happened to look back and see the Colonel looking as he exited the house. If looks could kill you would be dead. You knew by his look the Colonel would pull out everything he had in his arsenal to rid Elvis of you. You sighed as you realized you might in for a fight. You looked up at Elvis who looked back at you with his handsome smile. Whatever the Colonel decided to throw your way you would be ready.

@virgosapphire79 @shaylock89 @readsalot73

#austin butler fanfiction #austin butler #austin butler elvis #austin butler!black reader #woc representation #austin elvis x reader #elvis presley

[levi-venn]

My Favorite Meatbag

(Tech & TAY-0)

(w/ special appearance by Crosshair and Egg the Crow from the Cross and Crow series)

Also found on AO3 here

"We're baaaaack!" Omega's voice bounced with her steps as she bolted down the Marauder’s ramp. She was greeted by a crowd of Pabu villagers who responded to her cheer with equal excitement. 

Tech was hoping no one would notice their arrival, yet it sounded like the whole island was present.

"Yeah! Woo! We made it!" Wrecker shouted, shaking the whole ship as he ran down the ramp after Omega.

Tech was still seated on his bunk as he watched Hunter and Echo follow Wrecker. They graciously accepted pats on the back and warm hugs from the villagers as they descended, expressing a level of ease and good humor that eluded Tech on even his most social days.

He wished they had arrived in the dead of night, so that he may sneak off to his assigned quarters, decompress, and then acclimate to this new life on his own schedule. 

"Are you coming?" 

Crosshair stood at the top of the ramp, his newly befriended crow, Egg, sitting on his shoulder. 

Crosshair and Egg gave Tech an intense stare, and they both had a toothpick in their mouth and beak respectively. 

"Not yet," Tech said. “I will be along shortly.”

He wasn't making an excuse, but it was a convenient last errand before he unofficially retired with his siblings.

“Suit yourself,” Crosshair shrugged. “We’re going to the beach. Less people. C’mon, Egg, let’s stretch our wings.”

Tech waited until Crosshair exited the ramp before closing the hatch. Not being interrupted by loud, friendly locals was preferable, especially during this rather delicate procedure.

Tech sat at his work bench and produced a soft cloth bundle from his munitions cache where he had stored the racer droid’s head over a year ago. 

The sudden destruction of TAY-0 was jarring to say the least, and it had felt wrong to leave him behind on Safa Toma to be melted down and turned into who-knows-what.

Tech removed TAY-0’s faceplate, studying the tangled and frayed wires within and seeing a clearer path here than he did in his own future. Beyond the Marauder’s ramp there were too many variables to quantify, but here he still had some semblance of control and he wasn't going to leave the ship until TAY-0 was up and running.

It took twenty minutes longer than he anticipated, but by the time he was done the cacophonous joy outside the ship had dissipated, and was replaced with the crisp sounds of TAY-0’s circuits jolting to life. 

Tech replaced the faceplate just as the three eyes and series of rectangles that shaped the droid’s mouth began to flicker.

“I…regret…nothing!” TAY-0 said, repeating his final words expelled moments after being blown to bits by a fellow riot racer’s pod. 

"Hello," Tech greeted. "How are you feeling?"

“Woo! What a rush!” TAY-0’s triple eyes flashed and his face plate tried to spin, but was blocked by the workbench. He bobbled clumsily across the surface. “Safa Toma’s finest is back, baby! Can���t keep a good TAY-0 dow-…wait…what?! Why can’t I move?!”

Tech picked up the disembodied head. “I’m sorry to have brought you back in such a state, but I wanted to make sure I could restore you, before building you a body.”

TAY-0 flipped his face plate around once. Then twice. Then spun frantically. “Where is my everything, human?!”

Tech adjusted his goggles. “In a scrap pile, I imagine, to be melted down and reused for future Riot Racer repairs.”

"Well, aren't you just a meatbag full of sunshine and confetti? TAY-0's in pain here, human, how about a little sympathy?"

“You don’t have any pain receptors,” Tech said.

“Emotional pain!” TAY-0 said. “TAY-0’s heart is broken, literally and figuratively!”

“It…isn’t ideal, I admit,” Tech said. “Now that we've docked however, I can put together something more mobile for you. I again, apologize for your condition and how long it took me to revive you."

“What do you mean ‘how long’?” TAY-0 balked. “Give it to me straight, doc. How long was TAY-0 out for?”

Tech did a quick calculation, subtracting the two initial attempts to revive TAY-0. “Fourteen standard months, and thirteen days.”

“A whole year?!” TAY-0 cried. “An entire year of my life gone?! What about TAY-0's family, huh?! TAY-0's wife probably ran off with some smarmy R2 unit! Soooo typical."

Tech's eyes narrowed.

"I am not a stranger to sarcasm." Tech said, dryly. This was…partially true. He did miss sarcasm more often than not, but TAY-0’s sarcasm was as thick as Crosshair’s and easily identifiable. 

"Caught on, huh? Fourteen months is nothing," TAY-0 said, cheerfully. “I'm gonna live forever.” His face plate did a 360 turn. "So, when's the next race? You better not have trashed my pod while I was out of commission."

Tech frowned. "There is no race. I don't believe this planet has racing of any kind."

Surprisingly, TAY-0 didn’t have an immediate response. In fact, he looked at Tech with what could be described as a blank expression. “Hey, not to look a gift eopie in the snoot, but why would you bring TAY-0 back if not for racing?"

"I don’t understand the question.”

"My owners bring me out for two things: Racing and Prepping for a Race. If I’ve completed those tasks, boom, TAY-0 is shut down and shoved in a locker until the next race. So what’s the play here? Why bring me out if I’m not useful?”

“I…” Tech blinked. "I was unaware of this arrangement. Did you not have a choice in the matter?"

"Hah, a droid with a choice? Cute, human, real cute. Droids get powered up to make credits for the meatbags, that's just how it is."

"It isn't like this everywhere. Certainly not here."

Again TAY-0 was quiet, tilting his face plate down as though deep in thought. "Okay…so…you still haven't answered my question, human."

"It's not a complicated reason." Tech said. “It bothered me that you were destroyed. I wanted to restore you.”

After a moment, Tech added. “You also call me ‘human’, and I find it fascinating.”

“Okay, wow…well, if calling someone by their species is all the criteria I need for a friendship I’d be much more popular.”

Tech hadn’t mentioned friendship. This was simply a gesture of good will. Nothing more. Probably.

“I am a clone of a human," Tech clarified. "and what’s more, I am a variant clone, an experimental project. As such I grew up being called all manner of things, but never 'human'. My brothers and I have owned the moniker ‘bad batch’, but I do not believe I am ‘bad’. In fact, I feel far superior to regs…regular clones and humans.”

"Huh…"

Tech waited for a snarky reply, mocking him for just the simple pleasure of being considered human.

Surprisingly, all three of TAY-0's eyes dimmed briefly, with some sort of emotion Tech couldn't immediately decipher. 

“TAY-0 knows how lonely it is at the top. It's hard being this good-looking and talented, y’know? Well you probably don’t know, but trust me. Everyone is jealous of me on Safa Toma.”

Tech’s eye twitched. “I see…”

“Well anyway! So you freed TAY-0 and that’s great news and all, but I have a pretty big existential question here, human: TAY-0 is good at racing, right? And if there’s no racing then what am I good at exactly?”

The question struck Tech like clanker shrapnel to the heart. "As it happens, I have been asking that very same question of myself. I was a soldier, then a mercenary of sorts, now…I have a stable home, and no mission. The future is uncertain and it bothers me greatly."

"Same boat, huh? Well, human, you're in luck, because I have an exceptional mind and you're pretty smart, too. We're going to come up with new purposes. Between the two of us we can figure it out, yeah?"

Tech smiled faintly. "Perhaps we can."

“Sooo, where did you bring me, human? Where are TAY-0’s new stomping grounds, assuming you’re going to give me some stomping feet?"

“You may receive treads, but we’ll deal with that later,” Tech said. Holding TAY-0’s head-frame firmly, he went to the cockpit, bringing up a holomap to accompany the rather spectacular view. 

To the East was an uninterrupted landscape of calm ocean, the sapphire waters wearing the golden sunlight like a shimmering cape. 

To the West was home.

“This…is Pabu.”

The single mountainous island was a quiet sentinel in the dreamy sea, rich in natural history, peaceful at times, violent in others. The domestic structures built all over the island seemed to add to the beauty, not tame it, as if the island itself granted permission to let these villagers thrive.

TAY-0 gasped. “Wow…”

Tech’s smile widened, with an unexpected sense of pride.

“...this place is cuuuuuute.”

Tech’s lips thinned. 

“And by cute, I mean tiiiiiny. Did you find this place at the bottom of a mantell mix box? Where are we going to live? In conch shells? Like hermit crabs?! Ahahahaha.”

Tech turned TAY-0’s head frame sharply toward him, cupping the face plate so he couldn’t move, forcing TAY-0 to look directly at Tech in his goggled eyes. 

“When we leave this ship, you are going to behave yourself. You will be gracious. You will be respectful. This island is a safe haven and a carefully guarded secret. Kindness to these very generous people will go a long way if you are to make any friends here.”

“Friends?” TAY-0 asked. He looked…hurt. “But, TAY-0 thought we were friends.”

Another mention of friendship…

…Tech waited for the punchline. 

There wasn’t one. 

TAY-0 looked quietly at Tech as if waiting for a response.

Tech hesitated.“You…don't even know my name,” Tech reasoned.

“Sure I do, human.”

“...it isn’t-”

“It’s not human,” TAY-0 said, quickly. “I know that!”

Tech tilted his head.

“Ah ha, trick question,” TAY-0 ventured. “You don’t have a name.”

“This is not how a friendship starts,” Tech said, not knowing the first thing about cultivating an actual friendship. Though he imagined an exchange of names would be included. “My name is Tec-”

“Tech!" TAY-0 took over. "Your name is Tech. Uh yeah, of course it is, how could TAY-0 forget a name like that. It’s so…” 

Tech frowned.

“...short.”

“Brevity is the spice of life."

“Uh huh, yeah, That's not something TAY-0 will crosstitch on a pillow anytime soon. TAY-0 doesn't do brevity.”

“Obviously.”

“Well, Tech, you’re in luck because it just so happens there's a vacancy for TAY-0’s best friend. You’re it! Congratulations!”

Tech considered this, pressing the edge of his finger to his chin in thought. “I’ve…never had a friend that has elevated me to a ‘best’ status before.”

“Oh yeah? How many friends you got?”

“Apart from my siblings?”

“That…sounds like the number's zero.”

“Correct. It is zero. And how many friends do you-”

“Hey, hey, we’re not talking about TAY-0 here.”

Tech didn't push the issue. 

They were a pair of friendless entities, brilliant and unappreciated though Tech had far more humility regarding how superior he was to others. Naturally.

“Are you ready to go outside?” 

“Wait! One more thing,” TAY-0 said.

Tech held TAY-0 up to his face again. “What is it?”

TAY-0’s eyes flickered, and while the blinking facial expressions were unknowable to Tech, he had the impression that TAY-0 was growing emotional again.

“I’m glad it was you who brought me back, human. Tech. You're my favorite meatbag.”

"Full of sunshine and confetti?"

TAY-0's eyes flashed with apparent mirth.

"Exaaaaactly!" 

Tech snorted a laugh.

And with that, Tech punched the button for the ramp, relieved to find the crowd had indeed dispersed. 

Tech took TAY-0 to the beach where only Crosshair sat, boots beside him as he hid his feet in the sand, watching Egg soar around his new home. 

“This is an ideal stretch for Riot Racing,” TAY-0 said, eyes glowing, face plate spinning enthusiastically.

“As I said before, there is no racing here.”

‘Well, we’ll just have to change that. This island is in dire need of a little TAY-0 style.” 

"This is a peaceful island, TAY-0.”

"Ugh, fine. We’ll have Quiet Racing. Quiet Riot Racing! Hey that could be your name, Texx: The Quiet Riot Racer!"

“It's Tech, and we’ll see.” 

It wasn't a bad nickname. The announcer at the Safa Toma Riot Race seemed disappointed with announcing the winner as just "Tech".

"Or you can continue being the Spectacled Spectator! Your brother loved it.”

“Technically, you’re the one spectating, as that's all you can do currently.”

“Oh haha, you're hilaaaarious, y'know that, bestie?"

"Let's start with 'friend', first," Tech said, sitting on a bench just behind the beach line. He set TAY-0's head beside him so he could also enjoy the view. 

In the distance, Crosshair and Egg tossed a piece of shiny shell back and forth.

"We can revisit our status when you remember my name." Tech decided.

"I haven't forgotten it, human…it's…Ted."

"Tech."

"That's what I said!"

Tech's laugh came out loud and unexpected, a short burst of mirth that was unfamiliar to his own ears. These days mild amusement was most he could conjure as it had been a hard year. A harder several years actually since the Empire took over.

And even before then…when had he felt comfortable enough to laugh?

The sound carried to Crosshair and Egg who both whipped their heads back in equal startlement.

"What's that about?" TAY-0 challenged. "Ol' toothpick over there never heard a human laugh before?"

"Not this…human." Tech felt something loosen in his chest, like an overtightened gear cog finally shaking off the rust of fear and worry and instability. 

He took a deep breath of the salty, fresh air.

He felt very human. 

"Tech…" TAY-0 said, his gaze fixed to the ocean. "Thanks. I mean it. You didn't have to bring me back and you did. TAY-0 doesn't forget kindness like this."

Most likely because few have shown TAY-0 kindness at all, but Tech kept this observation to himself.

He put a hand on TAY-0's head frame as the sun meandered its way towards the horizon. 

"You're welcome, my friend."

***

If you enjoyed my writing, please consider checking out my queer sci-fi murder mystery novel “Error: Detective Not Found (A Cake Pop Noir)”. You can also find more info on it and my original works on my main tumblr account @blueberryhelper

***

My Taglist is currently one person, but thank you for being on it @motte-the-goblin :3

#tbb #tbb tech #tbb Crosshair #tbb tay-0 #tay-0 #badbatch #badbatch tech #badbatch Crosshair #tbb egg #egg the crow #was anyone else as upset as I was when TAY-0 exploded #fixit fic no one asked for #i love him youre honor #an excuse to give egg his own toothpick #Bad Batch

[raddocwrites]

SNW drabbles

Little is as little does

Una sat at the table enjoying a cup of tea musing at how strange life in Starfleet could be. The others murmured quietly. Chapel and ortegas had their heads together, whispering. Una knew this should probably worry her, but at the moment, she found she didn’t care. The captain sat with Mbenga going over the medical data.

Suddenly una felt a presence register next to her and she jumped. Little la’an had appeared silently at her side and now stood staring at her expectantly. Una pressed a hand to her chest and let out a breath. “La’an,” she said quietly in way of greeting.

The little girl didn’t move, just stared at una as if waiting for something.

Una shifted so she faced the tiny girl. Little la’ans face was pink with sleep and her check had creases in it from the pillow. Her always precise braids were beginning to unravel slightly. Una couldn’t help but smile at the precious sight. She leaned forward. “You want something?” The tiny head nodded. “You want to sit in my lap?”

La’an nodded again emphatically.

Una lifted the little girl easily and smiled as la’an rearranged herself like a particularly snuggly cat, until she was comfortable. She sat sideways in unas lap, being supported by one of unas strong arms, her head resting above unas heart. Una briefly lay her head against la’ans, then placed a kiss to dark hair. She clasped her other hand onto the wrist supporting the girl and held on loosely.

Little la’an nestled further into una and number one couldn’t stop her smile. She watched as a head poked up from the bed and tiny uhuras giggles filled the captains quarters. She slid off the bed and scampered towards the table. Baby spock followed at a more logical pace.

The others had noticed little la’an when the commander eased her into her lap. They tried not to melt with how adorable it was watching their fierce number one cuddle their even more terrifying Lt nonnien signh-infamous for making ensigns cry. And what was all the more heartwarming, was the fact that baby la’an allowed herself to be comforted. For once, she accepted the care and love that she needed.

Tiny uhura grabbed onto Mbenga and ortegas hands. Baby spock appeared between chapel and captain pike. Then they were all off running, playing another game of tag.

Una looked down at the little girl in her lap. She gently stroked la’ans cheek. Dark eyes looked up at her with a question. “Do you want to play?” una asked softly.

La’ans face darkened with something una couldn’t identify. But the little girl shook her head and una didn’t push it. Not everyone liked tag. Being chased. Being hunted. Prey, una couldn’t help but think. She let out a slow breath and kissed the top of la’ans head again. She was just glad she got to relax and watch as all the other adults ran breathlessly around the room.

The doors opened with a sudden whoosh and pelia entered. She had an amused look on her face as she joined una at the table. “So. This is where you are all hiding,” she said slyly.

Una raised an eyebrow. It didn’t matter what the chief engineer said, it always sounded a bit sly to una. “I don’t know if I would say hiding?”

Pelia shrugged. “Well, that’s good. Because Lt kirk has been going around blabbing about how spock, uhura and la’an have been turned into the most ADORABLE children, to anyone who will listen. Half the crew is lingering in the corridor just to sneak a peak!”

Una scowled. “That is most unprofessional! Lt kirk should know better than to disclose personal information about other members of the crew. And you would think the rest of the ship would be mature enough not to want to witness the misfortune of others.” She reflexively held la’an a little tighter.

Pelia just raised an eyebrow and examined baby la’an resting in unas arms. “Indeed,” she said noncommittally. She didn’t make any of the several comments that sprang to mind at the sight, since she knew the commander would appreciate none of them. She chose a safer option. “I do not know if their intent is malicious, or if they just want to…see another side of the people they already know.”

Una just harrumphed and adjusted in her seat. “Yes. Well. Wait until the next time one of them gets transformed into a weird, alien, space-creature sprouting numerous tentacles and see how they like it.” Pelias eyes twinkled as she held in a laugh. The commander truly was fiercely protective, and equally as blind, when it came to her attachment to la’an. “Whatever you say,” she agreed without really agreeing.

Unas eyes cut to hers again but she just said, “You’ve finished analyzing the data from the shuttle?”

Pelia nodded. “I have,” she agreed. “There-“

But a loud shriek cut her off. In the heartbeat it took for una to recognize the sound as baby uhuras delighted, giggly scream, la’an was off her lap and across the room. She barreled into Mbenga who stumbled back in surprise.

La’an planted herself in front of tiny uhura, one hand gripping the other girl and holding uhura behind her, the other raised defensively. She panted, every part of her tense and her eyes flicked wildly around the room.

Everyone froze for a moment. La’an didn’t seem to know what to do. No further threats showed themselves and her breathing grew more ragged the longer time seemed to stretch.

Uhura gently rested a hand on la’ans shoulder. The girl flinched. Spock placed himself between la’an and the adults all watching her apprehensively. “You have upset my sisters,” spock informed them angrily.

Una calmly rose and filed spocks comment away for later. She slowly approached. She could see la’an start to shake, her breathing just sharp gasps. Tiny uhura squeezed la’ans shoulder and whispered reassuringly. Baby spock shifted his attention between his sisters and keeping the adults back.

But la’an shrugged out of uhuras hands. Her eyes were wide with fear and she shook her head sharply, as if trying to get rid of unwanted images. She whipped her hands out, fighting off enemies no one else could see. She couldn’t hear it when spock tried to tell her the monsters couldn’t get her here. She was already someplace else.

Una felt spocks eyes on her as she passed. She knelt in front of la’an without touching the frightened girl. She searched for those familiar dark eyes.

La’an ducked her head, avoiding all eye contact. Her nostrils flared like she could almost smell the blood. She jerked her head, hearing something click. Someone scream. NO. She ground her teeth and shuffled back. NO.

La’ans whole body trembled and her jaw worked so ferociously una could hear it. Her tiny hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly. Her breath stuttered unevenly and tears streamed unnoticed down her face.

Unas heart twisted viscously but she forced herself to remain calm, collected. “La’an,” she said softly, still on her knees searching for her friends eyes. “Youre safe la’an. uhura and spock are safe too.”

La’an just shook her head. She still had her hands up, warding off unwanted assaults as her whole body quivered.

“Youre okay, la’a.” unas voice was steady and soothing.

La’an shook her head again more fiercely. She struck out at nothing once more. Then she tucked her arms close to her and began to rock slightly, grinding her teeth. She sucked in short, staccato breaths.

Una slowly raised her hands so la’an could see. Not that una thought the girl would be able to see, wherever her mind had taken her. (Una knew where). “Youre okay,” she repeated softly. She gently brought her arms around tiny la’an and drew her forward.

La’an flinched and resisted. But after several seconds, she melted into the warmth holding her. She let out a harsh, ragged breath and sagged.

Una tightened her hold as la’an went limp. She cradled the girl to her chest firmly and held a protective hand to the back of la’ans head, tucking her cheek against soft, dark hair. She never stopped murmuring that la’an was safe. It was okay.

La’an buried her face into unas neck and broke down. She cried. She couldn’t stop the tears. Her whole body shuddered as she clung to unas uniform.

Una just held la’an. She kissed the top of la’ans head then returned her cheek there. She rocked slowly back and forth. She could feel la’ans silent tears soaking her uniform and it made her heart hurt.

Una held la’an as she wept. As silent sobs wracked her body. As she spasmed and ground her teeth harshly. As her fists twisted ruthlessly in unas tunic. As it seemed like she wrung every bit of fear and anguish from her tiny body. Una held her and whispered her name over and over again. Telling her she was safe. That everything was going to be okay.

When la’ans tears had finally slowed and she merely shivered instead of trembled uncontrollably, spock appeared at unas shoulder. He pointed to the couch where tiny uhura was arranging a plethora of pillows and blankets into a fort.

Una smiled at baby spock and followed him. She sat and he and uhura quickly put the finishing touches onto their cocoon of safety. Then they settled onto each side of una. Spock squeezed la’ans shoulder gently. “The monsters cant get us here. We are safe,” he whispered in his musical voice.

Uhura nodded and leaned into una. She rested her head against la’ans side and held onto the other little girls leg. “Its okay, la’an,” she assured her. “We are okay.”

But una knew that for la’an, ‘we’ would never be okay, since so many of her people were gone forever. She stroked a hand softly over la’ans hair. The tiny girl had started sucking her thumb at some point but una hadn’t noticed. Not that she could blame her. She just held la’an closer and slowly trailed her fingers over la’ans hair.

Slowly, the little girl in her lap seemed to uncoil. Her breathing finally returned to its steady, normal rhythm. Eventually, she stopped sucking her thumb and snuggled deeper into una. Then she reached down for the tiny people next to her. Uhura grasped her hand with a grin and spock quickly took the other offered hand. They both leaned heavily into una, not that she minded in the least.

Una couldn’t see the others in the room due to the blanket fort but she finally registered their voices. They were speaking quietly about what pelia had found. Una knew she should care, but at the moment she just didn’t.

#star trek strange new worlds #una chin riley #number one #la'an noonien singh #christine chapel #nyota uhura #erica ortegas #christopher pike #doctor m'benga #drabbles

[sunflowernoodles]

Its Just a Kiss

Nothing to say accept I hope you enjoy! 🌻

Lee: Shoto

Ler: Sero

Ships: Seroroki

Warnings: nothing nsfw but just a lot of kissing

~~

It was just a typical Friday evening at the 1A dorms. Everyone off doing their own things and winding down from the long school week.

For Sero and Shoto, winding down meant a little make out session. Shoto was new to kissing as a whole, so something like this was a little overwhelming at times, but Sero was careful to check in constantly and pay attention to how Shoto seemed.

Sero was sitting on Shoto’s waist while he laid down. He was gently holding Shoto’s hands as they kissed, and Shoto could admit there was something very relaxing to everything.

As Sero trailed a few kisses down to the underside of Shoto’s jaw, he swore that he heard Shoto giggle. He stopped for a moment, kissing Shoto in the same spot once again while paying attention this time. And there it was, a little shy giggle as Shoto momentarily hiked his shoulders up.

“Shoto?” Sero laughed slightly, sitting up just enough to see the red face of his boyfriend turned away from him. “What’re you doing?”

Shoto’s blush deepened, “S-sorry. I don’t wanna ruin the moment or anything just… It tickles?” He admitted shyly with a small shrug. The giant grin he got from Sero soon after made him want to shrivel up and disappear.

“Awe, you’re not ruining anything. That’s adorable, makes me wanna kiss you some more actually~” Sero teased, making Shoto steal his hands back and hide his face as he let out a flustered whine.

Sero chuckled, “I can’t kiss you like that, darling.” He spoke and gave Shoto’s side a small pinch, “put your arms back down, please?” He asked and to his surprise, Shoto laid his arms at his sides and he had a small giddy smile.

“Thank you.” Sero smiled, then leaned down and kissed the side of Shoto’s neck. Shoto squeaked and scrunched his shoulders up.

“Hantahaha!” Shoto giggled out as he fought off the urge to hide his face again. Sero just grinned as he continued to pepper kisses all over his boyfriend’s neck.

“Wahahahahait! Noho, ihihit- Eep!” Shoto squeaked as he felt a kiss get planted right below his ear. It was quite for a moment.

“Hanta, what- hehehehey! Wait!” Shoto giggled when Sero started to nibble and kiss along his ear. Given that Sero was kissing him, he wasn’t talking much, and the lack of conversation was not helping with how flustered Shoto was.

After a couple minutes of very tickly kisses, Shoto shoved at Sero’s shoulder a little, “Okahahay, please stohohahahap!” Shoto giggled, and Sero did stop.

“All done?” Sero asked just to be safe and earned a small nod from his boyfriend. He moved off of Shoto and laid next to him, cupping his face as he came down from his little giggle high.

“You’re soho weird.” Shoto chuckled, and Sero just smiled. “Not as weird as you. I love you too though.”

#bnha tickles #lee!todoroki #ticklish!todoroki #ler!sero #sfw tickles #tickle fic #they’re in love your honor

[iikawarii]

bad habit (tech x reader)

i have not written anything like this in a hot minute so... hiiii...

Another day, another lackluster set of hours spent on repairing random technical garbage as it came into Kamino. Your job as a parts and services maintenance worker in Tipoca City was nothing short of busy, but it still managed to be quite boring. Every so often, you’d get to hear a fun story from someone about how some ship’s damages occurred. But that was infrequent.

Unless you got lucky enough to do the repairs of a certain group’s ship. Typically, Clone Force 99 wouldn’t hand over their modified ship, the Havoc Marauder, unless completely necessary; but they had grown to trust you and your work enough to at least let you help out. The group had their fair share of interesting tales to tell, and in the worst case scenario, you’d get to listen while Tech tells you to let him work on the ship on his own. Even though you favored his company, you tried not to let those times bother you too much. 

It was late into your shift, the sound of the rain almost lulling you to sleep before you heard someone let you know a ship was landing in the bay. Your head perked up, eyes adjusting to the light as you saw the Marauder land. Thank the maker, you thought, glad to see something that wouldn’t result in the same old routine. You picked up your headphones, a rather plain pair that you used daily, along with a device to play music from. 

Putting the headset around your neck, you walk out into the rain, which has lightened to a drizzle that leaves drops of water resting on top of your hair. The ramp dropped, and a slightly disappointed looking Hunter exited the ship, giving you a tired wave that you were quick to return. 

“How’d it go?” You asked, trying to make some light small talk.

“Bad,” he responded quickly. “Don’t ask the others… it’s a long story,” he gave a half-hearted laugh before the rest of the group joined him. Wrecker, Crosshair, Tech and Echo all shared a similar awkward energy, but the way they presented couldn’t be more different from each other; Wrecker being unusually quiet, Crosshair with his brows furrowed and arms crossed, Tech buried in something on a datapad, and Echo studying the group the same way you found yourself doing. You greeted the group, and asked a different question this time, asking about what may need repairs.

There were some mixed answers, but the batch pretty much just told you they wanted to test out some new modification ideas. “We’re going to go to the cafeteria though, if you’d like to join,” Echo offered, to which Crosshair rolled his eyes without a moment’s hesitation. It wasn’t like you were going to accept, finding that you were too tired to want to have dinner conversation. You shook your head, telling them you were just going to get this done and call it a night. Wrecker shrugged, becoming the first to move from the docking bay. Crosshair followed, and you got the impression that he was doing that solely to make some snarky remark to his brother. Echo nodded, and looked to Hunter, as if to say ‘let’s go’. You expected Tech to look up and realize the group had left, but he stood still a moment longer, looking up at you and giving an awkward but endearing grin. 

“Are you not joining them?” You asked, not wanting to sound dismissive. The man shook his head, turning off the device in his hands temporarily. “I’d rather get these modifications started than sit with those four at a table right now.”

Tech’s humor instantly caused a grin to sprout on your face. He returned it, before gesturing towards the entrance of the Marauder, motioning for you to walk in. 

The ship had a dark color scheme, but was still generally well lit. At least, to the extent a ship could be. You took in the environment quickly before making your way to the cockpit, where you assumed most of tonight’s work would be taking place. 

“I brought up the idea of rerouting some buttons to be more convenient for later use,” Tech turned the datapad back on, looking at a list and a diagram. “Along with a few other changes, which I’ll explain when we get to that part.” You nodded politely, not having any comments to add. This was really just moving wires around and whatnot, did Tech really need your help with this? Or did he just want company…?

Regardless of the answer to your question, this maintenance session was painfully silent. You had hoped for some time with Tech for a while, but now that you’ve gotten the opportunity, it’s like your brain has become a ghost town, leaving you with nothing but some shallow sighs and darting eyes. 

It was at this point that you decided to put your headphones on. Listening to music while working just made the time pass faster. Sitting in silence while trying not to disturb the other person in the room made you far too antsy, and you knew Tech didn't mind the light humming that would sporadically fill the space. You put a playlist on shuffle, and the song that played felt rather relatable for the moment.

Small hums reverberated in your throat, to a song that only you could hear with half of a headset on. The other side of the headphones remained off your ear, just in case you needed to communicate. Otherwise, you were in your own little world. 

I wish I knew you wanted me…

The song's lyrics were easy to remember. Tech messed with a few buttons on the panel in front of him, trying his hardest to pay no mind to your lovely humming. He couldn’t help but glance at you, watching your concentration stay unbroken as you messed with a couple wires in your hands. Tech was frozen in thought, spectating your work. There was something almost mesmerizing about your process, even though it was the same thing he had been doing. 

A few seconds into his trance, he realized he was staring, and turned back to his own progress, testing another set of buttons to see what was responding to what cord. Ignoring your soft music was more of a challenge than redoing the Marauder’s control panel. 

“Could I bite your tongue like my bad habits…” your hum turned to quiet lyrics, but the break after the last word made it sound like a genuine statement. Tech turned, a brilliant flush developing instantly on his face. “You want to… my apologies?”

'Oh, crap,' you thought while your face got hot. “Oh, sorry. Song lyrics,” you clarified, pressing a button on your headset to pause the music. Tech looked a little disappointed after hearing you brush off the statement, going back to fitting a pair of wires to each other. To be honest, you wouldn't mind if he'd just acted on the misinterpretation. An idea struck as you watched him get up from the pilot’s chair. 

You rewinded the song, taking your headphones off and standing up. You took a few steps towards the man, tapping him on the shoulder. As soon as he turned around, you unpaused the song, placing the headphones over his ears and kissing him. All of this clearly took him by surprise, Tech’s hands trying to figure out where they should be on your body. You didn't mind letting him experiment. The volume of the song from your headphones was loud enough for you to hear as well, but more than anything you hear your heartbeat in your own ears. 

As you pull away, Tech blinks a few times. “So, is this why you listen to this song around me?” He asked, louder than he thought he spoke due to the music. You shrugged, watching him slightly adjust his goggles before he pulled you in once again for another kiss, this time brushing his tongue over your bottom lip, as if he was asking for an invitation into your mouth. You permitted, becoming invested in the unorganized kiss. Tech took advantage of this, acting almost perfectly in time with the song lyric, lightly biting your tongue. You couldn't hold back the content hum that seemed to vocalize like an instinct. Something about that clearly energized Tech, who’s hands had made their way to your waist, holding you close. You felt him lightly squeeze your skin anytime you moved even slightly. It was clear he had been anticipating this for a while. 

#im sorry #star wars tbb #the bad batch #star wars #tech x reader #tech x you #tbb tech #why are you staring at me im kind of nervous? hi?