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futuremrsreid · 1 year

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Redemption (S.R.)

Summary: When Spencer risks his life on a case and doesn't want to see how dangerous it was, reader tries to talk some sense into him. It results in a lot of yelling and some other things.

A/N: So..... smutty angst, as promised <3 I hurt myself while writing this. Enjoy.

Content Warning: Smut (18+), very very mildly dubious consent, a bit of dark Spencer but he's just traumatized, angst, sad, dominant Spencer, kinda sub reader

Word Count: 4,1k

I was pissed. Actually, pissed didn’t even begin to describe the rage I felt at that moment.

We were currently in Florida, hunting another psychopathic bastard as always. Everything was fine and under control, up until the moment Dr. Spencer fucking Reid decided it would be a good idea to drive to the unsubs location alone because he was “closest to him” and because we “didn’t have time” and nearly got himself killed in the process. Luke and I had arrived just in time to prevent disaster, but Spencer still got a few bruises on his face.

I was furious and let him feel it by yelling at him while he was getting checked out in the ambulance. But like always, my yelling resulted in his yelling. We went at it for a couple of minutes but Emily put a stop to it before it got really bad, concerned about the reporters at the scene who already started to take a few pictures of us.

:keep reading:

We didn’t talk or look at each other for the rest of the case. Emily let Spencer get away with it because everything turned out fine, but I was not feeling gracious.

When Garcia informed us that there was a storm that would delay our flight for the next couple of hours, Emily decided that we should just spend another night in the city and fly back in the morning. We all drove back to the hotel and when we arrived, I was on Spencer's heels all the way from the car to his room. He didn’t even try to stop me, he knew there was no point to it.

“That was so fucking irresponsible, Spencer! What were you thinking”, I started to yell as soon as I had closed the door behind me. I wanted to say “stupid” instead of “irresponsible” but decided against it. I wanted him to understand that he can’t do shit like this, and not insult him.

“It worked out fine, y/n. I don’t understand why you’re getting yourself worked up over this!” He rubbed his hand over the side of his face, clearly done listening to me.

“It only worked out fine because Luke broke like every rule you can break in traffic to get to the scene as fast as possible!”

“Oh right, Luke, my hero. I should go thank him, don’t you think?” he chuckled humorlessly and rolled his eyes.

“Maybe! He’s the reason you’re not dead.” I tried lowering my voice. This wasn’t our first fight, and I have learned in the past that screaming won’t help.

“I would have been fine! I had it under control, y/n. God, just leave me alone”, he spat and I felt a stabbing in my chest at the way he didn’t want to see how much danger he put himself in.

This wasn’t the first time he risked his life like that and I hated it. All of us hated it. Spencer seemed drawn to dangerous situations, it had been that way when I joined the team and from stories the others told me, it had been this way before that.

When I met Spencer, he was freshly out of Prison. They hired me together with Matt after Agent Walker died. The first time I saw him, I knew I had to befriend him. What I didn’t know was how easy it would be and how much easier it would be to fall in love with him.

I tried to push it down, to get rid of it, scared that it would ruin everything, but there was no way of falling out of love with him, which made the situation even harder. Spencer didn’t seem to realize how much he hurt me whenever he risked his life like this. I wasn’t even sure he realized how much I cared about him.

“I’m not going to leave until you admit that you were wrong.”

“Well, this is going to be a long night then, because that’s never gonna happen.” He turned and walked away from me, removing his suit jacket and draping it over one of the chairs in his room. I sighed.

“Spencer, you need to stop risking your life like this. You're gonna get yourself killed”, I pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears. I tried to get him to look at me, but he avoided my eyes. “Please. I can’t lose you and especially not like that.”

“The day will come when you and the rest of the team realize that this is exactly the way it is supposed to end for me. Dying in the field would be an honorable death. It’s the only redemption I will ever get.”

“What?”, I breathed and my heart stopped for a moment, “What do you mean, Spencer?”

“I meant what I said.”

“Redemption? What redemption, Spence? You don’t need any, you haven’t done anything wrong.” I was confused and hurt by the way he said it. It sounded almost suicidal.

“Yes, I have. I have done horrible things in my life, y/n. I will never be able to make up for them.”

“You don’t have to! Everyone makes mistakes. You are a good person Spencer. You’re kind and gentle, you saved hundreds of lives in your career, you don’t need to make up for anything.” I tried to get through to him, but it was like I was hitting a wall.

“Prison changed me, it turned me into a different man. I’m not nearly as gentle or kind as I used to be.”

“I don’t know you any other way. I almost can’t imagine you being even more gentle than you are now. I don’t think anyone can be.”

“I was though”, he countered almost immediately, still unable to look at me, “I think you would have liked the man I was. He was gentler, kinder, and more deserving of you than I could ever be now.” He didn’t even sound sad when he said it, almost like he had accepted his truth from the moment he met me.

“You know, you talk about yourself like you are the worst man in the world”, I said in an accusatory tone.

“Am I not?”, Spencer scoffed, raising his voice slightly while going on, “We hunt terrible men every day but in the end, how different am I from them? What makes me a good man and them a bad one, y/n?” He was almost yelling now, stunning me for a moment too long. When I didn’t reply, he turned to finally look at me. “Tell me y/n, what is it about me that convinces you I’m not every bit as bad as them?” The desperate look on his face made me take a step toward him but for every step I took, he stepped two back.

“Spencer, I-” My voice faltered and I didn’t know what to say. I knew he wasn’t anything like them but I wasn’t able to find any words that would convince him. When my mouth stayed open but no words left it, he took my silence as an invitation to go on.

“I almost killed Cat Adams, did JJ ever tell you that?” He spat, walking over to me and pushing me back until I hit the wall.

“I put my hands around her throat and choked her until she was clawing at my wrists. And I didn’t stop then”, he moved even closer to me and I was unable to move away, the words leaving his mouth freezing me into place, “I told her that I was going to kill her and I meant it. I would have strangled her if JJ hadn’t pulled me off her.” He moved even closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Her eyes were filled with fear, and you know what? I enjoyed it, y/n. I loved the way I scared her, the way she struggled for her life against me.”

He leaned in and I felt his breath ghost over my ear when he said the last words of his cruel monologue. “So tell me, y/n. Tell me how different I am from those men.”

He stayed where he was, his hands at his side and his mouth grazing my ear. He was trying to intimidate me with his speech and to be honest, he would have convinced me if it hadn’t been for the way his nose brushed against my hair, inhaling my scent like he was convinced this was the last chance he ever had to commit it to memory.

“You can’t scare me with your words, Spencer. If you want me to believe how terrible of a person you are, you’re gonna have to show me because I will never believe it otherwise.” He probably calculated every possible outcome of this situation, but when he pulled back to look at me, I knew that he didn’t expect me to respond like this.

“Cat Adams is a monster who had you tortured and assaulted. She kidnapped your mother. Do you really expect me to feel bad for her? I never even met her. If you want to scare me away, you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

There was a long moment of silence where we just watched each other. I thought I managed to break through to him for a second, but Spencer was on a mission to make me despise him, and he was determined to make it happen. His eyes darkened and he straightened up, towering over me.

I felt a sliver of doubt about my faith in him at that moment and he must have seen it cross my eyes because when I lifted a hand to push him back, he harshly grabbed my wrist and spun me around, using his body to push me against the wall. My arm was twisted behind my back and when I started to struggle out of pure instinct he took my other wrist in his hand and held both my arms behind my back, resulting in me being pushed more into the hard surface, my cheek flush against the wall.

When the shock had left me, I opened my mouth to ask him what the fuck he was doing, but Spencer was faster than me. He took his other hand and held it over my mouth.

“Do you believe me now?”, he whispered in my ear and I felt my pulse quickening. “You are so fucking naive y/n and honestly, you’re a little stupid too. What the fuck makes you think I would never hurt you, huh? You don’t know me.”

It was those last words that took me back to reality because I did know him. I knew the way he brought everyone on the team their favorite food when they were sad. I knew the way his voice got an octave higher when he started talking about something that excited him.

I knew the way he recited his favorite poems when I struggled to go to sleep after a tough case.

He won't hurt me.

He would never hurt me.

He would never do something like this.

So, against every instinct in my body, I tried to calm my heart down and closed my eyes. I tried to speak but his hand on my mouth didn’t let me so I jerked my head back and stunned him with my sudden movement long enough to say a few words I knew he definitely didn't want to hear.

“You are all talk Spencer Reid. You would never hurt me and we both know that”, my voice was louder than I had expected and I felt his hand tighten around my wrists, “You can push me against the wall and insult me and tell me the terrible things you could do to me all you want but we both know that you would never lay a hand on me without my permission and you would never hurt someone who didn’t deserve it.”

His hand loosened and I used this opportunity to free myself of his grip and turn around. He was angry that his plan didn’t work and I saw his hands twitch with restraint, but I wasn’t scared of him.

He had just proved to me that he was the man I knew he was.

“You’re not an abuser, you’re not a rapist-”

“Shut up.”

“- and you’re not a murderer. That’s what makes you different Spencer.”

“I said shut up!”, he yelled and I did the only thing I knew to do in response to that. I yelled back.

“Or what, Spencer? Are you gonna pin me against the wall and put your hand against my mouth again like the bad person you are, huh?” Spencer got angrier and more frustrated with every word I was saying but I was determined to speak my mind, “You’re gonna shut me up like the scary man you are, Dr. Reid? You’re gonna-” But I didn’t get further than that because in a heartbeat he forced me back against the wall again with his hands on both my cheeks and his lips pressed against mine.

He pulled back, “Please y/n, please shut up”, and the desperate tone in his voice awakened something primal in me.

“If you want me to shut up, you’re gonna have to make me because I will never stop trying to convince you that you are a good man, Spencer.” When he didn’t say anything I went on. “You are kind and gentle and-”

He kissed me again, and this time I kissed him back until I wasn’t able to breathe anymore. His kisses wandered to my neck then.

“You say I am a good man, but you don’t know the things I thought about doing to you”, he bit the skin on my neck then and I gasped, which seemed to spur him on further, “I want to pin you down and fuck you until you’re crying. I want to make you feel so good that you can’t take it anymore.”

His kisses moved up my neck and to my ear. “ I want to break you into a thousand pieces and put you back together again. I want to ruin you for everyone else, I want to lock you in so that no man can ever look at you again and at the same moment I want to show you off to the entire world because you are the best thing in my life. I want to take you and make you mine”, he cried out, holding my hips in a bruising grip.

“Then take me, Spencer. Take me, break me, ruin me, I don’t care. I am already yours. I have been yours since the moment I met you.” He looked me in the eyes then, searching for any lies, any doubt, and when he didn’t find any, he kissed me another time.

“Say it again”, he demanded and let his hands travel down my body.

“I am yours, Spencer.”

“Again.” His hands roughly shoved up my skirt, his breath warm on my neck.

“I’m yours.” When his hand brushed against the damp panties I was wearing, I sucked in a breath.

“Again.”

“I’m yours, Spencer. Only yours. Now please do something.” My plea seemed to finally push him over the edge because a second later he was moving the cotton aside and his fingers met wet skin.

He told me “Again.” over and over again, but the longer his fingers were moving inside of me, and the louder the sounds of my pleasure got, the more his demanding turned into begging and it wasn’t until I felt my orgasm wash over me, that he stopped our back and forth to press his lips against mine once more.

My legs were trembling when he removed his hand from my cunt and the way he looked at me while bringing the same fingers that were inside of me moments ago to my lips didn’t help steady them.

He didn’t need to say anything, I knew exactly what he wanted. I don’t think he was quite prepared for the sight before him when my lips accepted his fingers and my tongue swirled around them though, because Spencer's eyes became even more feral at it.

“Fuck.” He removed his fingers and in only a few seconds removed my shirt, took off my bra, and had my skirt on the floor. I tried taking off his clothes too, but when my fingers started to unbutton his shirt, he gripped my wrists and walked me over to the bed.

“If I had known that our fight would end in us having sex, I would have waited until we had something better available than a cheap hotel bed”, I breathed out a laugh. I figured he’d laugh as well but he returned a soft “Do you want to stop?”

“God no, but this bed is gonna squeak really loudly”, and this time I was met with a laugh. He didn’t interrupt when I started another attempt to undress him. When I was done with his shirt he finally raised his hands to touch me again and my whole body shivered when his palms made contact with my breasts. Feeling my erect nipples on his skin must have awoken yet another thing in him because the next thing I knew he was throwing me onto the bed. I didn’t even have time for a shocked gasp before he was on me, pinning my wrists down on the mattress.

“You know when I told you I want to ruin you”, he said while letting his hands travel down my body to grip the waistband of my panties, “I really did mean it.” And with that, he ripped the cotton apart and threw it to the side.

He continued to deny me any time for a reaction when he grabbed my thighs and pulled me towards him. His hips took their very rightful place between my thighs and pressed against me.

We both moaned when his covered bulge pressed against wet and hot skin.

“Beg me to fuck you, y/n.” I think he was expecting me to hesitate, but I was desperate for him to touch me.

“Please fuck me, Spencer,” I moaned and ran my nails down his back.

“Huh, I thought you would put up more of a fight, to be honest.” He sounded disappointed, but his eyes told me that he was relieved I wanted this just as much as he did.

“Do you want me to?”, I still asked, wanting to give him everything he yearned for.

“Another time. I think we dragged this out long enough for today”, he said and with that, he took off his underwear and I got to see all of him for the first time. I knew he would be beautiful, and it applied to any part of him, but I couldn’t fully conceal my shock at the length of him.

And that smug bastard smirked. “Don’t worry darling, we'll make it fit.”

And with that, he moved back between my thighs and lined himself up with my entrance. I expected him to at least try and tease me a little but he started to push inside me immediately.

We locked eyes while we both felt inch after inch of him sink inside of me. It was intense, erotic and so intimate that I felt the urge to look away. He must have felt it too, because when he was fully buried inside of me, his lips pressed against mine in a bruising way.

When he started to move and his lips started their way down to my jaw and neck, I completely lost it, moans and whimpers flowing from my mouth in a volume that even surprised myself. Spencer thrust harder and deeper the louder I became.

“I know you were worried about the bed being too loud, but I’m pretty sure your moans are covering that sound up pretty successfully, angel”, he panted with a labored breath and heat rose to my cheeks. I was trying to remember if any of our coworkers shared any walls with Spencers' room, but he was literally fucking me stupid so I just removed a hand from his back and bit down on my fingers, hoping no one has heard yet. When Spencer saw, he slowed down. He reached down the side of the bed and lifted up my torn panties, and then proceeded to remove my finger from my mouth to push the cotton in its place. “There, now you won't have to hurt your finger”, and with that, he picked up a brutal pace again.

He was muffling his own moans by pressing his mouth onto my shoulder, no doubt leaving behind a dozen of hickeys. He was losing it, I could feel it in the way he pushed his fingers into my hips and the muscles in his back tensing. I wasn’t doing much better, my thighs were trembling and my panties were barely concealing my noises anymore. The room smelt like sweat and sex, Spencer’s skin was hot on mine and I never felt more whole in my life. I could feel my orgasm building inside of me.

“Touch yourself for me, angel. I want you to come with me.” I didn’t hesitate and started rubbing circles over my clit. It only took a few moments until my orgasm washed over my entire body and Spencer quickly ripped my gag from my mouth to kiss me. My thighs and cunt clenching around him, pulling him into me as deep as humanly possible, must have pushed him over the edge because after a few more strokes he stilled at my deepest point and came.

He released my lips from his and put his forehead on mine so we could both catch our breaths. It was quiet for a few minutes. I could feel his cum dripping out of me between our bodies and spared a quick thought to the poor person that would have to clean these sheets. I couldn’t bring myself to care though, not with the way he kissed my skin and nuzzled his face into my neck. I moved a hand to his hair to run my fingers through it, the strands curling once again from sweat wetting them.

“Tell me again.” He spoke so softly I almost didn’t hear, and I’m not sure I was supposed to. It took me a moment to realize what he meant but when I did, I moved my mouth to whisper in his ear.

“I’m yours, Spencer. As long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever then?”, he pulled away to look at me, but before I could answer, there was a knock at the door.

“Ayo Spencer, are you and y/n still fighting? We decided to go to a bar a few blocks away, but you’re only allowed to come if you don’t put us all in a pissy mood”, Luke's voice seeped through the door. I could feel Spencer trying to come up with a reply but before he had a chance, I spoke up.

“Actually, Luke, we’re still in the middle of fighting and I don’t think you want either of us there with you right now.” I tried to sound mad and I must have been convincing enough because even Spencer furrowed his brows at the tone in my voice. I smiled at him and trailed a hand up his arm to reassure him that I was just putting up a show.

“Well, okay just… Try to remember you two are friends and don’t actually want to kill each other”, he replied almost nervously. Damn, we must have really worried the team with our fight this time.

When we heard his footsteps moving away, Spencer started to detangle us from each other. He was still inside of me and when he pulled out, I sighed at the empty feeling it left behind.

“I’m gonna get something to clean you up.” He tried to stand up but he didn’t get very far before I pulled him back. I held his face in my hands and made sure he was looking at me when I said the words I know he desperately needed to hear.

“Forever.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid reader

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yours-mythically · 6 months

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One Luxurious Life

➤ pairing : natasha romanoff x rich!reader (romantic), slight yelena belova x rich!reader (platonic)

➤ summary : nat has a rich girlfriend that spoils her non-stop and yelena chooses it as an opportunity to tease her sister....

➤ warnings : none

➤ a/n : I'll try to update at least once a week for u guys, but I can't promise it lol (part II)

You weren't just Natasha's girlfriend, according to her sister Yelena. You were Natasha's rich girlfriend; something that Yelena never let her sister forget.

"Got those from your rich girlfriend?" The blonde teased, eyeing Nat's new ear piercings.

"Shut up." Natasha chuckled.

Yes, you were rich and you were also, definitely, spending more money on Natasha than the red head would've liked. But you didn't care. You love her and want to keep her as happy as possible; even if Nat claims that she would've been happy even if you didn't have a lot of money.

"You think I could get her to buy me a new vest?" Yelena asked, as she sat down on the couch in the Avengers Tower.

"You've got your own money, go spend it if you want." Natasha claimed, rolling her eyes at her sister.

"Why spend it if Y/N could get it for me," Yelena shrugged, "A few dollars won't hurt her money account."

"Yelena I won't have you asking my girlfriend if she can get you a vest," Nat said, annoyed, "Go ask Tony if you so desperately want it."

"Won't even do one nice thing for me." Yelena mumbled as she left the living room.

"I can hear you, suka." Nat yelled.

"What did she do this time?" You asked as you entered the room, giving your girlfriend a little peck on the lips.

"She's just being her." Nat muttered.

"Always the same thing, huh?" You chuckled, hugging Nat tightly, "How about we go out for dinner tonight? I found a really nice restaurant." You asked.

"Y/N/N, listen, you don't have to keep spending money for me. I'm just as happy without it." Natasha told you.

"It's fine, Nat, really. I don't mind at all." You smiled against her cheek.

"I'm not gonna be able to convince you, am I?" Nat asked, kissing your temple.

"Nope. So how about that restaurant?"

Hours later, you two were back at the tower in your room, full from your dinner and content. The king-sized bed you two lay in was warm and comfy, making you two want to fall asleep instantly. Sadly, you wouldn't be able to...

"Sestra! I hear you went to a nice restaurant today?" Yelena accented voice rang through the hallway.

"Oh, goodness gracious, this girl won't ever stop," The red head next to you mumbled, "Get out of here! We're sleeping!"

"What's with her today?" You asked amused.

"You're not sleeping, I can hear you! I won't leave until Y/N takes me out to one of those fancy, expensive dinners as well!"

You looked at your girlfriend and raised an eyebrow, "What now?"

"Yelena, leave or I'll kick you out!" Natasha yelled and you could definitely notice that she was starting to get annoyed - yet again - with her sister's antics.

"Not before I kick you out!"

"Lena, leave us alone tonight and I'll buy you whatever you want tomorrow. We just want some time alone." You yelled through the room.

"Anything?" The said woman asked after a short pause.

"Anything."

"Alright, I'll leave you two alone. But if you're going to have fun, be quiet, some people want to sleep!" You two heard her leave.

"She's got some nerves." Natasha said as she held you tightly to her chest.

"I guess it runs in the family, hm?" You asked playfully, slowly getting tired.

Natasha chuckled shortly, "Shut up."

She continued holding you tightly, forgetting all about her annoying sister who - Nat sometimes got the feeling - just wanted you two to stay together for your money.

#marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #the avengers #yours-mythically #black widow x reader #romantic #yelena belova #marvel mcu #gxg imagine

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eiraeths · 4 months

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more scrubs quotes as 141 members because im binging the show

———

Ghost: Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present, Man Not Caring. [Points at self]

———

Price: Do you want me to order you a clown?

Ghost: A drunk clown hurt me once

———

Soap: It sounds like you’re asking me out on a man date.

Ghost: Johnny, why are you so afraid of loving me?

———

Ghost: I don’t understand it. This wedding is supposed to be about us - how come I can’t be comfortable?

Soap: And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you are not wearing sweats!

———

Ghost: I don’t dislike you. I nothing you.

Soap: That’s special

———

Ghost: Hey idiot

Soap: [Turns around]

Ghost: Heh. I said idiot and you turned around.

———

Soap: [after kissing Ghost] Is that a roll of quarters in your pocket or are you having a good time?

Ghost: Actually, it's a roll of quarters. [takes out roll of quarters] Laundry day.

———

Graves: Ghost!

Ghost: And there you are.

Graves: Huh?

Ghost: I was just wondering if there was anything that could really push my headache into a full blown migraine… and there you are.

———

[Standing next to Soap and Graves]

Ghost: Goodness gracious, suddenly I'm getting the most intense headache. Let me see if this relieves the pain.

[grabs Soap and shoves him in between him and Graves]

Ghost: Better! [pushes Soap away]

Ghost: Worse! [Pulls him back]

Ghost: Better! [and away again]

Ghost: Worse! Oh, I could do this all day.

———

Ghost: Mactavish!

Soap: Mactavish? You only call me Mactavish when you're mad or when we're having sex... Baby, are you mad when we're having sex?

Ghost: Sometimes.

———

Gaz: I am not addicted to Journey

Soap: [singing] She's just a small-town girl…

Gaz: [singing] Livin' in a lonely wor-rld, she took the midnight train, going a-n-y-whe-ere.

———

Ghost: [thinking] Wait, is he into me? Quick, make a bad joke and see if he laughs.

Ghost: You hear about the skeleton who couldn't go to the party? He had noBODY to go with.

Soap: A ha ha ha! That's really funny!

Ghost: [thinking] Oh that's not a fair test, that joke's hilarious.

———

Price: Since you’re not that intelligent, I’m going to speak like a caveman from now on. You bad soldier. Me good soldier. You follow.

———

Price: I’m tired of rookies complaining about being called dummos, tubbos, smokers, and whatever the hell jamokers means.

Soap: I was actually saying jokers, but i had coffee cake in my mouth.

———

Gaz: Hey, Soap, wanna get a beer after work?

Soap: Do chickens wish they can fly?

Gaz: ...I have no idea.

Soap: I like to think they do.

———

Soap: [looks up to the ceiling] Now, I know you say you love us all equally. But you don’t, do ya? I’m onto you, big man.

———

okay that’s it

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yelena-bellova · 10 months

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Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine: People Watching

Plot: The Greyhounds take another hit in Amsterdam, and a night out brings about revelation and realization for Y/n.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: language, discussion of child neglect

A/N: AMSTERDAM!! This is the one that really ties the whole thing together and sets up the rest of the series. I think it’s also my favorite so far. Very little of any other characters (sorry to my Jamie girls) but I promise it pays off ☺️

Enjoy!!

(Yes, this chapter is titled after the Conan Grey song. It fit too perfectly)

————————

The Amsterdam match, while not counting for anything, was a tremendous defeat.

The Greyhounds lost to Ajax, 5-0, unable to score a single goal against the Dutch. The boys hung on the field despondent, the home crowd booing and taunting them as loud as they could.

Y/n watched from the suite, seated between Keeley and Higgins, her eyes drifting across the crowd. Rivalry between fans had never bothered her, until Richmond had become her club. Now she was feeling every insult as if it were directed at her.

“Rebecca,” Marjolein, a high-up at AFC Ajax took the chair next to the blonde, “My apologies. Now, you’ve come all the way to Amsterdam and we at Ajax have been such rude hosts.”

The woman gestured to the scoreboard that the foursome couldn’t bear to do more than glance at.

“Marjolein, you’ve been more than gracious,” Rebecca replied, “Especially given the circumstances.”

The cruelty towards the Greyhounds had been particularly hard to handle because it all tied back to the golden boy. Zava. The signs, the banners, the cheers against them…without the prick, apparently AFC Richmond was worthless.

As the whistle blew, the match officially ended and the teams headed off the field. Y/n, Keeley, Higgins and Rebecca stood to their feet.

“Till next time,” Rebecca thanked and shook Marjolein’s hand. Keeley and Y/n followed suit.

“Truly was an honor to play here at the Johan Croyff Arena,” Higgins complimented.

Marjolein touched her hands to her chest, “No. The honor is ours completely. But it is pronounced Johan Cruijff.”

“Oh,” Higgins nodded, “Still.”

Left to themselves, the foursome listened to the stadium chant the words to Three Little Birds as it played over the speakers. Salt in the wound that was still actively bleeding.

“This song’s depressing,” Rebecca muttered before downing the last of her champagne.

Higgins gagged, his tell-tale sign that he was uncomfortable. Y/n put her hand on his shoulder and took it upon herself to lead the group out. When the boys came off the pitch, her job began.

Higgins, Keeley and Y/n went to the locker room, the two women waiting outside as Higgins collected who they needed.

“I hate him,” Y/n complained, leaned against a wall, staring up at the bright florescent lights, “I hope a storm comes through and just wrecks that avocado farm.”

Keeley managed a snort while pacing the hall, she was tense about something other than the match.

Y/n peeked over at her boss, “You good?”

“Yeah,” Keeley said quickly, picking at her nails a little before she stopped in front of Y/n, “I have something I need to tell you.”

Barely opening her mouth to ask what it was, Y/n was stopped by Higgins emerging from the locker room, Jan Maas and Roy in tow.

“Let’s get this over with,” Roy grunted, walking alongside Higgins down the hall.

“If you’re gonna fire me,” Y/n looked back at Keeley, “Do it now.”

“No,” Keeley replied, hurrying to catch up, “It can wait.”

They stood to the side with Higgins as Jan Maas spoke in his native tongue, his tone surpassed the language barrier. The team were hurting.

Eventually, the interviewer turned to the coaching side. “And so, Roy Kent,” he began, “Don’t you think Richmond’s objectively poor performance is due to the fact that you’re nothing without Zava?”

Y/n inhaled, holding her breath after, “Here we go…”

“Who cares?” Roy replied, “It’s a fucking friendly. A friendly is a pretend match. This is a pretend conversation. You’re a pretend person with a pretend job. And I’m having a really hard time pretending to give a shit.”

If Zava didn’t give them enough headlines to clean up, Roy certainly did.

Will passed them in the hallway with armfuls of bags, whispering hellos to Keeley and Y/n, before Rebecca returned.

“Okay, a night out in Amsterdam it is,” she said quietly, “Let’s make the best of it. What’s the plan?”

“Ooh, I’m spoken for, I’m afraid,” Higgins replied, “It’s my first time in Amsterdam and I have a date with someone special in the red-light district.”

Rebecca, Keeley and Y/n watched their co-worker leave, staring in confusion.

“Nah,” they all said in harmony. There was no way.

“Just us, then,” Rebecca smiled at the two women.

Between the loss and her general stance on spending time together outside of work, Y/n already had her excuse prepared. “I’m exhausted,” she said, “I’m just gonna order dinner and turn in early.”

Keeley’s nervous smile returned as Rebecca turned to her expectantly, “I’d love to-“

“That’s a quick cancellation,” Rebecca replied.

“How’d you know I was gonna cancel?” Keeley asked.

“Because there’s a certain note in your vocal range that you only ever hit when you’re being preemptively apologetic,” Rebecca explained, glancing over to Y/n, “Am I right?”

Y/n scrunched her face at both her bosses, landing on Keeley. “Just a…little.”

“Come on,” Rebecca continued, “Out with it.”

“All right,” Keeley sighed, “Apparently, tonight is the best aurora borealis ever. Like it’s the aurora ‘boreal-iest.’ In Norway.”

Rebecca nodded understandingly while Y/n tilted her head. “How are you getting to Norway?”

Keeley ever-so-slightly shifted between feet, “And Jack and her plane are waiting for me at the airport right now,” she looked nervously to her employee, “That’s what I wanted to tell you.”

Y/n’s mouth opened and closed, her mind trying desperately to find words opposite to what she truly wanted to say. Keeley. Jack. Keeley and Jack. A thing. The boss and the boss-boss. What could go wrong? Everything.

Luckily, Rebecca spoke first. “Subtle,” she smiled at her friend, “And amazing.”

“Yeah, that’s,” Y/n’s total discomfort with the situation cut off the signal to her brain. She awkwardly made a fist and raised it, “Great. So great.”

Keeley was so in her own world, no doubt one that sat on a Dutch runway, she didn’t notice Y/n’s terrible performance.

“Go,” Rebecca nodded toward the end of the hall.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Keeley grabbed Rebecca’s hands.

“Yes, you will,” the older blonde replied.

“Oh,” Keeley caught Jan Maas heading down the hall, interview completed, “Great job, Jan.”

“Yes, seriously,” Y/n added, “Thank you so much.”

The Dutch man smiled at the two and gave a wave.

“And, Roy,” Keeley called to her ex, “Thank you again for doing this.”

“Yeah,” Roy nodded, “Anytime.”

Keeley squeezed Rebecca’s arm, “I love you.”

“I love you,” Rebecca repeated.

“I love you,” Keeley grabbed Y/n’s hands, “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Y/n forced a laugh, nothing was actually funny at the moment, and watched as Keeley ran down the hall, Norway bound.

Rebecca, having spent enough time with Y/n, could sense her unease. “What are you thinking this very moment?”

“I’m watching my career get blown up because of a stupid night sky,” Y/n grinned, her eyes following Keeley’s fluffy pink coat bounce up and down.

Roy left the interviewer, coming to stand between the two women. It gave him a prime spot to watch his ex-girlfriend bound out. “Where’s she going?”

“Somewhere that believes they deserve her,” Rebecca replied, letting the thinly veiled comment smack Roy. She touched Y/n’s arm in goodbye before leaving the same way Keeley had.

Y/n let out a sigh, her and Roy turning to one another in silent resignation over separate matters. Y/n’s eye caught on the poster beside them, her face shifting with disgust.

Zava.

Roy turned and faced it, a small shrine to the legend’s short stint at AFC Ajax, and pounded his fist against it. It fell to the floor where Roy promptly landed a few kicks before casually walking off.

Y/n looked down the hall to where the interviewer was still filming, watching in shock as Roy stalked off.

“We’ll pay for that,” Y/n smiled.

“No, we won’t,” Roy called out.

Sneering once more at Zava’s arrogant grin, Y/n marched off toward the exit, ready for the day to be over.

—————————

Of course, by the time she got back to her hotel, it was barely 6PM. There was a whole evening to kill.

Y/n ordered room service, snacking as she scrolled the social media reactions to the match. When it became fruitless trying to find anything positive, she set her phone down on her nightstand and grabbed the tv remote instead.

She flipped between stations, finding most of the programming to be in Dutch. Eventually, she settled on the hotel’s channel that showcased their amenities and the city’s activities.

Y/n dropped the remote in shock, “Oh my gosh.”

With a Dutch overdub, a very out-of-fashion Keeley described some feature the hotel rooms had.

Y/n laughed, covering her mouth as she watched her boss over-exaggeratedly move around the screen. The sight was bringing her thoughts on Keeley back around to a more positive place.

It was eating at her, though, Keeley and Jack. Both of them were perfectly lovely, and Y/n had been witness to their natural chemistry. But dating the person that financed your company? That could decide at the drop of a hat to pack you up and dissolve everything you’d worked for?

Not that Jack would do that. Y/n reminded herself that the woman was level-headed and genuinely believed in Keeley’s vision. But there was always the great big “…what if?”

Y/n ran a hand through her hair, sitting on the edge of her bed. How could anyone be comfortable taking such risks with their career?

Deciding that she’d spiral if she stayed in her hotel room any longer, Y/n went to her suitcase and grabbed a change of clothes. She threw on her sweater and jeans, collected her wallet, phone and coat, and headed out the door.

She felt a twinge of guilt, telling Rebecca she was staying in and leaving the woman to fend for herself. But it wasn’t enough remorse to get Y/n to send a text.

Once she reached the lobby, she had to pass through the lounge to get to the exit. She quickly stepped back behind a wall when she spotted the entire team seated together, in deep conversation. Y/n couldn’t turn down another invitation, nor did she want to answer any questions, good-natured as they may be. She waited until a bellboy came through with a full luggage cart, hurrying alongside the suitcases that formed a perfect shield.

In the clear, Y/n stepped out into the evening air, inhaling deeply. She didn’t know where she was going, but she was going to enjoy herself. If nothing else, she was going to leave saying that she’d spent a night out in Amsterdam.

She wandered down to a busier part, not so stupid to think that as a single woman she could roam the city freely. In the more touristy section, there were buskers, much like in London. They provided a pleasant soundtrack as Y/n weaved through the crowds, searching for the first place she wanted to stop. Eventually, she spotted a street vendor, selling coffees and pastries, and decided that was as good as anything else.

Y/n walked until she found an empty bench, claiming it for herself. She ate her pastry, sipped her coffee and watched the crowd, listened to the chatter of the people passing by. There was something about being in a new city that electrified her, it was the same feeling she’d had when she’d first arrived in London. Everything was fresh and exciting and full of possibilities, even if she didn’t take any of them.

“And here-“

A familiar voice broke through Y/n’s thoughts. She traced it to find Jamie jogging down the cobblestone street.

“Is the most beautiful girl,” Jamie announced, running in place in front of Y/n and gesturing to her, “In all of Amsterdam!”

Spotting Y/n a grin, Jamie went on his way, leaving her laughing as he left. Ten seconds later, a well-worn Roy stopped to catch his breath.

Y/n smirked, knowing that Jamie was exhausting him. She lifted her leg to show her sneakers, “You want me to-“

“No,” Roy panted, keeping one eye on Jamie, “Don’t give him any more fucking energy.”

Roy took off once more after his protege. Y/n watched the two men disappear into the night, smiling and shaking her head.

With nothing else to do, she decided to call her sister. Her and Caylee had a standing catch-up each Sunday and she wasn’t going to miss it.

The dial rang twice before it picked up, “Hey.”

Y/n smiled at the sound of the familiar voice, “Guess where I am?”

“Where?”

“Sitting along a canal in Amsterdam, sipping a coffee, surrounded by people I don’t know.”

“Look at you,” Caylee cheered, “Being all spontaneous and shit.”

With a full mouth, Y/n laughed. “I mean, I knew I’d have the time. Not sure that counts.”

“Still, it’s good to know you’re out. You with anyone?”

“No,” Y/n said, watching one of the boats float down the canal, “Just me.”

Caylee’s silence was deafening, and predicted. By them both.

“So not your boss, who you said keeps inviting you places?” Caylee asked.

Y/n chuckled, “My boss is in Norway right now.”

“And not your other boss who, quite frankly, sounds fucking amazing?”

Y/n sighed, thinking of Rebecca’s earlier invitation. “She…had plans.”

“Not the coach who home invaded you to deliver fresh baked cookies?”

“No,” Y/n was starting to squirm under Caylee’s interrogation, “And they were biscuits.”

“And not the ridiculously hot footballer who’s basically just dropped himself in your lap?”

Y/n pinched the bridge of her nose. Jamie had texted her multiple suggestions on how to spend her night in the city. She’d felt bad ignoring them.

“It’s not-“

“Yeah, I know,” Caylee cut her off, “It’s not like that. That’s not the important part of what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying?”

“You’ve got all these people who are jumping to be around you and you keep pushing them away, and quite frankly, it’s kind of ridiculous.”

Her tongue poking her cheek in frustration, Y/n let her free hand fall to her lap. “Why is it ridiculous?”

“Because you’ve got no reason to be doing it,” Caylee said, no doubt with a shrug. Y/n was inhaling to argue back when she was cut off again. “You’ve got every reason to. I do too. Except these people actually want to be with you. They’re fucking proving it every Sunday night you call me and tell me how you had to dodge another invitation to a birthday party or another drink after a match…”

Y/n felt backed into a metaphorical corner, all too exposed. She kept searching for some comeback, some solid point to make, but couldn’t find one.

“It’s a lot more complicated than that, Caylee,” she said, trying to steady her voice.

“It’s really not,” her sister replied.

“Yes, it is,” Y/n’s tone jumped, “You make it sound like all I have to do is go out for a coffee with my boss and all my issues are magically solved.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Caylee, to her credit, didn’t drop her even tone.

“That’s exactly what you’re saying,” Y/n retorted, her brain and her mouth working at different speeds, “Y-you’re saying that I should— I-I should jus-just let them into my life and-“

“When are you going to stop punishing everybody else for what Mom and Dad did to us?”

Y/n’s breath caught in her chest and her stammers stuck to her throat. The truth could paralyze you like that.

Caylee didn’t speak, letting the question wash over her sister. Eventually, after watching someone self-destruct for long enough, subtlety was useless. Sometimes you had to hurt them to help them heal.

“I love you,” Caylee said softly, “But you deserve a better life than this. The only thing standing in the way…”

The sentence didn’t need to be finished. Y/n knew.

“You can hate me if you want.”

Y/n chortled, looking down at her coffee cup. “I’ve tried. Doesn’t work.”

Caylee hummed, her smile somehow vocalized as well.

“I love you,” Y/n returned, “And I’m…sorry. For everything.”

“Yeah, that’s another thing you need to stop doing,” Caylee pointed out, “Stop apologizing for our shitty childhood. You didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, well, you’re my baby sister,” Y/n sniffled, trying to stop the tears before they’d even formed, “Bit of a habit, I’m afraid.”

“Hey, I turned out fine,” Caylee chuckled, “Boyfriend, job, friends…I’m happy. I just want the same for you.”

Y/n smiled, she was so proud of her sister. She’d built her own life, and had found an inner peace regarding their childhood that Y/n had yet to discover. She wasn’t envious, she longed to understand how Caylee had done it. How she seemed to be able to pack up their parent’s negligence in a box and stick it under her bed. It was all Y/n had wanted since moving to London.

“Well, not that this isn’t fun, getting a verbal finger wagging,” Y/n sighed, “But-“

“Go,” Caylee urged, “You’ll never be in Amsterdam again.”

Y/n furrowed her brows, “I might.”

A sisterly silence crackled between them.

“You’ll never be in Amsterdam again,” Caylee grinned, imagining her tightly-wound sister in a city of such debauchery.

Y/n laughed, “Probably not.”

“I love you,” Caylee repeated, “Really.”

“I love you too,” Y/n echoed, “I’ll call you Sunday.”

“I’ll be here.”

Without another word, the siblings hung up, returning to their corners of the world.

Y/n took a breath, looking down at her coffee as if it held all the answers. She couldn’t very well sit on the damn bench all night, not after that conversation. She needed to do something.

Amsterdam. Tulips. That made sense. She needed to see tulips in their native soil.

Y/n searched the map on her phone and found a nearby garden, less than a half mile’s walk away. She could do that no problem.

On the way over, her thoughts managed to leave her alone. The weight of what Caylee’d said hadn’t fully landed. Weaving between tourists and dodging the drunken ones was certainly enough to keep Y/n occupied. She could keep herself in semi-excitement about her destination.

Upon arriving and paying for admission, she found the gardens to be surprisingly quiet. It was close to closing time and a fair share of parties were heading out the way she was coming.

Y/n strolled through the greenhouse. She found the path to the outer section, the pebbles crunching under her sneakers as she followed the signs with floral markers. Her head stayed quiet.

The sprawling tulip patch was stunning. The marketplace ones Y/n had bought and placed in her kitchen window didn’t do the real thing justice. These bloomed with the kind of radiance that only came with being in the place they truly belonged.

Y/n tried to admire them, but had never been more aware of her solitude. There were families strolling past, couples gazing at the flowers, hand in hand. The bustle of the Amsterdam streets had melted away, the peaceful silence of the gardens provided no escape from one’s thoughts.

She’d been at Richmond four months, growing more and more pleased with the job each day. Except it wasn’t the work that made her happy. She didn’t get a pit in her stomach at the thought of exchanging emails with some sneaker company. She didn’t feel jolts of electricity down her fingers from scrolling Twitter to see how a press conference was received.

It was the matches that thrilled her. Sitting in the owner’s box at Nelson Road. Being squished between Keeley and Rebecca and Higgins. Watching the team run up and down the pitch. Cheering and screaming when one of the boys scored a goal. That was what made her happy.

The tears built as a supercut of moments played in Y/n’s mind. The team, inviting her out after nearly every match, genuinely disappointed each time she declined. Keeley, clawing and scratching her way into Y/n’s life, desperately trying to be a friend. Rebecca, as intimidating as she was, constantly praising Y/n on her talents, always encouraging her. Ted, offering time and time again to be there for her, to welcome her into their fold. Jamie, texting her a full fucking itinerary for a night he wouldn’t even be there for. Helping her find an apartment. Listening to her talk about her shitty childhood.

Being there for her.

They all wanted to be there for her.

And she was too fucking scared to let them.

Y/n sniffled, her eyes so blurred that the tulips turned to watercolor blobs.

“Ahem.”

She turned to her right, a grey haired man taking slow steps toward her, pulling something from his jacket.

“Here you go, dear” he said, offering her a handkerchief.

“Oh,” Y/n tried to collect herself, inevitably failing and taking the cloth, “Thank you.”

“No need,” the elderly man held up a hand, he spoke with a thick Dutch accent. “It is easy to recognize a broken heart.”

“Oh, no,” she denied as she dried her eyes. She tried to give a small smile, “I’m just a little lonely. It’ll pass.”

“Ah,” he came to stand beside her, facing the tulips, “I would not say that.”

Y/n stayed silent, sensing the stranger had more to say.

“Loneliness…it is like a warning. A wave lapping at the shores,” he smoothed his hand over the air, “It grows a little bigger, and it starts to hit the shore. And out in the distance, more begin to build. But still,” he shrugged, “No storm, no worries. It is simply a wave. Until the skies darken, and the storm shows up,” he moved his hand to simulate bursts of thunder and lightning, “And everybody is running and asking ‘Ahhh! How? How did this happen? Why did no one tell us this was coming?’”

Y/n smiled slightly as the man clasped his hands together, speaking higher for the imitation.

“And the storm says,” he cleared his throat, “‘I did tell you. The waves grew wilder and wilder, but it was of no concern to you. You laughed and continued on, saying that it was nothing...that it would pass.’”

Y/n clenched the handkerchief tighter in her fist.

“Loneliness is not to be isolated further,” the man mused, smiling grandfatherly at Y/n, “Rather, to be smothered in the company of good friends, a lover. Family.”

Whether he was an angel or a hallucination, the man was telling Y/n everything the part of her mind she didn’t listen to did. She’d hidden away all her life, terrified to let anyone in. The effort had finally beaten her. She was tired of the loneliness, tired of lying, tired of fending off the efforts of those who were already in her heart.

Y/n gave a watery smile, “You might be right.”

He smiled back, “Maybe.”

With a wink, he started back up the path he’d come.

“Wait,” Y/n held up the handkerchief, “You forgot this.”

The man looked back and waved a little, “Keep it. A little reminder not to be alone for too long.”

He went off then, Y/n watched him until he disappeared around a corner, feeling dumbstruck. Terrified. Relieved. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do, but her feet set off with such purpose, it didn’t matter if she knew. She was on the right track.

She ended up in the red light district, of all places. There was no one to call, each of the Greyhounds off on their own adventures, but Y/n was determined to be somewhere there was life. To do something. Not stand on the sidelines and pretend she had no desire to be in the middle of it all. A jazz club seemed like the perfect answer.

The establishment she decided on was busy, but not too crowded. She took cautious steps through, hoping she didn’t pick too rowdy of a place. Soft jazz played from the stage at the back of the smoky room. She was about to settle at the bar when she spotted the backs of two heads she knew quite well.

Walking up to the two men, Y/n tapped Higgins on the shoulder.

“Y/n,” he exclaimed, no doubt a little tipsy, “What are you doing here?”

“Just wandered in,” she replied, looking past him and giving a little wave to Will, “You mind if I join you guys?”

“Oh, please,” Will gestured to the table, jumping up from his seat to help Y/n into a chair.

“The more the merrier,” Higgins added before going back to playing the upright air-bass.

Y/n tried not to laugh, she’d never seen him off-the-clock. She suspected Will hadn’t either as the two of them caught each other’s eye, sharing a look of mutual amusement.

“Has he been like this all night?” Y/n asked.

“Uh, little bit, yeah,” Will answered, Higgins scatting in the background.

One of the women that had been playing on stage made her way down to the Richmond table, scrunching down to Higgins’ level. She raised her voice over the music, “Do you play?”

Higgins startled, stumbling over his words due to surprise and liquor. “Uh…um…”

Y/n smiled and turned to the woman, “He does.”

“Yes, he— Yes, he does,” Will was quick to follow, “He plays bass because Chet Baker- Chet Ba- Do you know who Chet Baker is?”

The woman smiled sweetly at Will.

“All right, okay,” he replied, settling back in his chair and looking to Y/n, reminding her of an excitable puppy.

“What do you say, Higgins?” Y/n asked, looking over at her co-worker.

He looked to be wrestling with an already made decision. Will patted him on the shoulder, urging him to accept the unspoken offer. Buoyed by his co-workers, Higgins scooted his chair back and followed the woman up to the stage. Will and Y/n cheered him on.

“We went to see where Chet Baker killed himself,” Will said, his grin didn’t quite match his words.

Y/n raised her brows, still smiling. “Well, that must’ve been fun.”

“It was,” Will replied, “What have you been doing?”

Higgins took hold of the bass, getting a feel for it before playing a complex intro to a song.

Y/n’s eyes never left the stage, “Nothing as fun as this.”

“Let’s get lost now!” Higgins called to the crowd.

Everyone let out a shout of approval, Will and Y/n’s the loudest, and the rest of the band kicked in. Y/n pulled out her phone and opened her camera app, she hit record just as the woman who’d pulled Higgins up began to sing.

As the song played, for the first time in four months, Y/n smiled so broadly, her cheeks hurt. When Higgins went into a solo, she grabbed Will’s arm and the two of them watched ecstatically. She felt like she’d come to an oasis in the middle of a desert, not even realizing how in need of water she was.

When the song ended, she was the first one to her feet.

—————————

The next morning, the Greyhounds were surprisingly sober aboard the Coach. They went about their separate conversations, waiting for the last of them to find their way onto the bus.

An unfamiliar pair of shoes slapped up the steps, drawing a couple of eyes upward.

Y/n stopped at the front of the bus, holding up a beanie.

“This,” she said loud enough to get all the player’s attention, “Is a collection plate. It will be sitting at the back of the bus, where at some point during the eleven hour drive back to our lovely nation, you will each place an unspecified amount of money which, in total, will amount to what we owe the hotel in damages to pillows,” Y/n held up a finger, smiling annoyedly, “And keep in mind, I do know your salaries. Give accordingly.”

There was a mixture of shame and amusement on the Greyhound’s faces, but no real regret. Nor was Y/n actually mad. She had questions, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing when she came down to the lobby and saw Higgins doing damage control at the concierge desk over the feathery mess.

She made her way to the back of the bus where Ted and a very dressed-up Beard sat.

“Hey, stranger,” Ted greeted, looking up from his notebook, “How’d Amsterdam treat ya?”

“Alright,” she replied, looking at the empty spot next to Ted, “Do you…mind if I join you guys?”

Ted smiled, surprised but delighted. He knew if he said too much he might scare Y/n right back off the bus, “You kiddin’? Scoot your boot, c’mon.”

Sliding in beside him, Y/n exhaled against the plush seat. Will had already packed her bags in the luggage compartment and she’d texted Rebecca to let her know she wouldn’t be joining her on the jet back to London.

She finally got a full look at Beard’s ensemble. A big snout and pig ears, a glittery jumpsuit with silver platform boots, and an unmistakable blue and red lightning bolt painted across his face.

“I hate that I know what you’re going for,” Y/n remarked across the table.

“Don’t hate it,” Beard replied, spreading his hands, “Embrace it.”

Y/n chuckled before the cheering from the Greyhounds caught her ear. She glanced down the aisle to spot Rebecca making her way towards them.

“Hey,” she greeted.

“Hey, boss,” Ted added as Rebecca slid in next to Y/n, looking more relaxed than ever. “So, twelve unanswered texts, three un-haha’ed GIFs. We good?”

“I’m sorry, Ted,” Rebecca smiled, speaking slowly, “My phone is at the bottom of a canal.”

Ted pondered the answer, “Is that Keats?”

Rebecca shook her head, “Nope.”

“Well, I guess I didn’t need to send that text,” Y/n commented, “I won’t be on the plane home, by the way.”

Rebecca gave a breathy laugh, reaching over to pat Y/n’s hand. Out of character as all get out, but Y/n was happy to see her boss so…at peace.

“Hey, Will,” Ted called down to the kitman, “How we looking?”

“Uh, we’re two short,” Will answered, “Who’s missing?”

Y/n had clocked the missing presences the second she’d stepped on the bus. Being the closest to the window, she was the first to spot them, but she didn’t quite believe what she saw.

Jamie rode up beside the bus on a bike, Roy sitting behind him and hanging on with one arm slung round Jamie’s hips.

“You lovely people,” Jamie called out as Roy eagerly hopped off.

“Oh, this is gonna be good,” Y/n remarked.

“Don’t fucking ask,” Roy groaned as he came down the aisle, “Let’s go.”

Just as he’d taken his seat, Jamie jumped aboard, holding his fists in the air. “We saw a windmill!”

The Greyhounds cheered, high-fiving Jamie as he found a seat. He caught Y/n sandwiched between Rebecca and Ted, the two of them sharing a grin.

“You take my advice?”

Y/n shook her head, “Not a bit.”

Jamie clutched his chest, letting himself fall into one of the chairs. “I’m hurt,” he called over the chatter.

Rebecca slid her feet up onto the table, shutting her eyes as if she meant to go to drift off. This was the most relaxed Y/n had ever seen her, and she suspected the same went for Ted.

“Everything okay, boss?” Ted asked.

Waiting a moment, Rebecca responded with a tune that had had a much different meaning the day before.

“Don’t worry,” she sang, “‘Bout a thing. ‘Cause every little thing’s, gonna be all right.”

“Well,” Ted smiled, “I appreciate it.”

“Singin’ don’t worry,” Beard continued, singing back quite nasally, “About a thing.”

Y/n laughed, what else was there to do? She was watching a man in a David Bowie/swine get-up sing Bob Marley, and there was literally no place she’d rather be.

“‘Cause every little thing,” Rebecca sang along with Beard, “Gonna be all right.”

Ted chuckled alongside Y/n, “Ready for eleven hours of this?”

“Definitely,” Y/n nodded.

“Everybody!” Beard called to the bus before continuing the song, “Don’t worry…”

As she sang with the team, Y/n felt the four month old tension she’d been holding melt away. This was where she belonged, this was where she wanted to stay.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @mentalistfan @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove

#ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #jamie tartt x reader #rebecca welton x reader #keeley jones x reader #ted lasso x reader

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months

Note

OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS I ADORE YOUR WRITING!!!

“I need you, why do you always leave me?” With Narinder from Cotl with a reincarnated mortal s/o who always dies young? I’m such a sucker for this kind of troupe oh my lawd

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!

Ong this trope is so good it hurts </3

Request more angst/horror prompts here!

.......

"Lamb, you must perform the resurrection ritual again."

"Narinder, it's barely been two days.." With a weary sigh, the sheep closed their gospel book, already becoming irritated with their former master's blunt request. "I may have taken your role as death, but even I have my limits. I can't just do that ritual whenev-"

"I had to bury my spouse yet again."

".....oh." A small pit in formed in their stomach, knowing exactly who he was talking about. "Again? What happened this time?"

"Some fool thought it would be funny to dare [y/n] to eat a deadly dish...and they accepted it, only to die puking their guts out." Narinder huffed, although deep inside it killed him to know that your death this time around was entirely avoidable.

He never thought he'd ever care for a mortal..much less one of Lamb's first followers, who somehow kept dying young and became the first one they resurrected.

Your existence has become a never-ending cycle of death and rebirth, and he wondered when they'll finally accept that you're simply not meant to live a prolonged life.

However, now that he himself was in the cult and wedded to you...he saw things differently. From a new perspective.

After you died once right before his very eyes--and not through the Red Crown--he suddenly understood that same grief Lamb endured ugh after they killed one of their spouses, who became mind-controlled by Shamura.

He thought of them as weak.

But not anymore.

Not when it became his turn to suffer in a similar fashion, counting the hours (or days, even) until Lamb could resurrect you.

He lost count of how many times you've died since then, although he knows you aren't trying to kill yourself on purpose. You were very "accident-prone" and sometimes did stupid things that you shouldn't have---such as accepting a dare to eat a "deadly dish" stew.

You might've been a fool for that, but he still loved you.

Unfortunately, not even the golden skull necklace Lamb gifted you provided any protection from death....besides old age, of course.

At least Narinder knew you'd never pass away naturally, but knowing it couldn't spare you from other causes didn't make him feel any better.

"Fine..I will do the resurrection at dawn." Lamb finally caved, understanding how much you truly meant to him. "But you must talk to [y/n] about this. With each rebirth, they slowly forget more and more of their past lives."

"....is that so?" The black feline raised an eyebrow, surprised.

This was new information to him--although he never exactly had the chance to revive somebody over and over, except for his former vessel whenever they foolishly perished during a crusade.

But they were very different.

They were nigh-immortal...you weren't.

"First they forgot how they previously died, then they forgot which shelter they slept it, and then they forgot how to cook their favorite meal...you see where I'm going with this?"

He didn't speak, afraid that his former vessel was correct. But it's not something he wanted to think about at all...even though it's certainly possible.

Suddenly he was beginning to realize the repercussions of the same doctrine that got him exiled over a millennia ago..

"I can't watch over them all the time..as their spouse you're gonna have to step it up, or else...they might-"

"Just do the ritual, please.."

Lamb's ears flicked up with surprise, never expecting Narinder to grovel at their podium. The only other time he acted this way was when he begged them to kill him instead of sparing his life, although it didn't do him much good as they chose mercy.

But this time, they felt a bit of pity for him.

He must truly care about you.

They simply nodded. "I will need more bones."

.........

You found yourself back in a familiar place:

Floating over a glowing red sigil, followers in hoods kneeling all around you, Lamb's eyes glowing with a powerful energy....and you expelling ichor from your body in a rather disgusting display.

You never did get used to puking out this black magical goop.

But once you landed on the floorboards of the temple, you sighed in relief, wiping your mouth on your sleeve before gazing at everyone surrounding you.

"So...what have I missed?"

A few of them uncovered their hoods and greeted you, happy to see you return to the land of the living. Others kept their distance, looking rather annoyed that Lamb decided to resurrect you for the umpteenth time.

One, however, stood there motionless, refusing to remove his own hood.

You looked to him, watching as he approached you, being unsure of his intentions. Although judging from the way other followers hastily moved out of his way...this person must have held great influence over them.

The fact that he had three glowing red eyes was most alluring.

Have you met him before?

Before you could ask him who he was, he suddenly grabbed you by the wrist. "H-Hey! Ouch!" You winced, feeling his claws slightly digging into you as he began dragging you out of the temple.

"Where are you taking me??"

"....stop talking."

His voice was low and quiet, and also....sad?

You were immensely confused by this mystery follower's behavior, especially as he led you to his hut--one that was more decorative than the standard shelters on the other side of the cult grounds.

While you remained silent, you couldn't help being bedazzled by the outside of it, although you didn't have time to really get a good look around the inside.

Because the next thing you knew...

You were pushed onto the bed, with him crawling onto it and laying beside you. Then he uncovered his hood, two long cat ears flicking upwards as his eyes met yours for a brief moment.

And in that split second, you swore they were filled to the brim with tears.

You blinked, afraid to speak considering how angry he sounded just moments ago, but you were even more perplexed when he flopped onto your chest. From his throat, a purring sound rumbled, and you could feel it throughout your entire body....and in your very soul.

"Please..don't do this to me..." His ears flattened.

"Do....what?" Reaching down, you awkwardly placed a hand on his head, slowly petting his fur and hoping it provided him some comfort. "I don't know what's wrong, but..I hope this is okay."

Your uncertain tone only further devastated Narinder. This was exactly how you'd comfort him after his nightmares. He only ever allowed you to see him in such moments of vulnerability, so you never needed to ask for his permission. You would simply do it.

Had you forgotten that, too?

Was that damned Lamb right after all?

Were you forgetting.....him?

"I need you, why do you always leave me?" He mumbled, heartbroken as the tears slid down his cheeks, droplets splattering onto the symbol adorning your ragged shirt. "With each new life, I-I'm...losing more and more of you, [y/n]. I don't know if you are cursed or if it's fate deciding to test me....o-or maybe Lamb's followers wish to see me suffer....but...I'm so tired of watching you die and being unable to do anything about it. I've taken you for granted.."

"................."

".....forget it. You don't even know what day of the week it is..why do I bother trying?" With a sniffle, he reluctantly removed himself from your arms, believing he blew his last chance to save your memories..

Now you were acting like a total stranger to him, and it honestly felt as though you had already died before you even left the temple.

Maybe this was a sign that he needed to stop and move on.

Maybe he simply wasn't destined for love.

Maybe this was karma for all the atrocities committed in his name.

Maybe the next time you perished, no matter the reason, he'll-

"It's easy to forget things like that, Nari...but how could I ever forget the love of my life?"

Blinking through his tears, Narinder felt his breath hitch when your hand gently grasped his own. He looked back at you with astonishment, before glancing down at the matching rings that still adorned your fingers.

Then he gazed into your eyes, seeing your smile.

"You..remember me?"

"Of course I do, you silly kit---woah!!" You were suddenly tackled back onto the bed by your husband, feeling him nuzzling up to you and purring even louder than before.

But you simply giggled and held him closely, petting his fur in a comforting way. "I'm sorry for scaring you...it takes a while for all my memories to come back. D-Did I do anything dumb last time?"

"Just...promise me you'll never accept a dare from anybody again." He huffed, trying to hide the fact he was still sniveling like a helpless kitten.

"Alright." You sighed. "I promise to be more careful. I'll try harder to watch my back, too."

"Do you swear it?"

"...I swear it."

"Good."

#clanask #cult of the lamb x reader #cotl x reader #cotl narinder #cotl narinder x reader #narinder x reader #angst #hurt/comfort #angst/horror prompt

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colealexart · 6 months

Note

Can you tell us the story of you meeting Ashley and Sam?

sure!

we waited in ashley's queue after seeing laura but it was taking a while and they had to leave for lunch, then photo ops. when we did see her, we had been in the queue for a while because she likes to spend time with people, so the nerves that i was feeling at the beginning kind of dissipated. i was still super nervous to meet her, because she's ashley johnson, but my back and legs were hurting from standing in the queue for so long, so that kind of took my mind off of it a little.

my friend went before me in the queue and got my fearne print signed by her, and i was getting the same print signed too. so when it was my turn, she was like "ohh, that person had this print too" and i was like "yeah i drew it" and she looked so shocked(?) lmao. she was like "you did?! oh my god, it's beautiful!"

i mentioned how much i loved ellie and how much the last of us means to me, and she looked so touched. she stopped signing for a moment to listen to me, with the softest smile on her face. she is very good at keeping you in conversation, so much so that i completely forgot to gift her the extra fearne print that i brought for her.

i did give her the dice that i brought for her though, and she looked so excited. i started saying “i’m sure you receive so many dice but-“ and before i could finish, she interrupted me and said "NO, LAURA GETS ALL THE DICE!" which i thought was hilarious. we played rollies and i got a nat 1 and she got a 4. i also got to hear the signature ashley johnson quote “its caaacked” in person because my dice was slightly tilted off the paper.

i also completely forgot to ask for a selfie, because... well. she's ashley johnson. i was lowkey ascending into another dimension.

as for sam, i had met him before a couple times, during our group and single photo op, but for the autograph he came immediately after ashley. during our photo op, i wore the cursed sam mask that was given out during the live show prank, and he laughed and called it horrifying. i didn't realize, but during our photo he was pulling a face at me because i wore the mask, and it makes me laugh every time. (also, as we were waiting, he introduced himself to every single person taking a photo with him, which i find very funny. sir, we are literally here for you. we paid for this.)

for the sam autograph, on all the other tables i went to, they had you talk to someone beforehand to tell them your name and any autograph personalizations you wanted, so they could write it down on a post-it to make it easier for the talent. however, with sam's, it was a little different. the person helping him out asked for my name, and instead of writing it down he personally introduced me to sam himself. it immediately relaxed me, for some reason. it didn't feel like i was meeting a celebrity (even though i had already met him briefly during the photo ops.) he shook my hand and said, jokingly, "wow, i've never seen this before" about my fcg print. (i had tweeted at him a couple months ago with the print i was going to get signed at mcm, and he responded "cant wait".)

we made conversation about the live show. sam is very soft-spoken irl. he took his time with my autograph and we chatted about the flat white with vanilla please prank on marisha. he said it's very fun to bully her lol. he then took a second to look at the fcg print, and said that it's really cool and he loves the design. i had a spare in my bag, so i offered it to him. he said "oh, i don't want to take it from you, so only if you're sure" which was just. the sweetest. i gave him the print and he was very gracious and shook my hand again.

sorry, this got long lol. i had so much fun meeting them and they truly made everyone feel so welcome and loved. i could talk about my experience at mcm and the live show until the end of time.

#ask

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azurlily · 4 months

Text

Dont ask just read, this is what a bored and horny mind can come up with. Yes, this woman needs a name so for now we will call her LSM. What does that stand for? Lets find out together. Completely UNEDITED.

Lesbian Sugar Mommy

You had a daily schedule, a routine. You followed this routine everyday for years. For years. So you being poor as hell at only 24, being barely able to afford food and rent. It was an all time low for you, and an embarrassing one at that. Recently your friend recommends you try a sugar dating app. At first you thought it was stupid, but mulled it over and remembered how broke you were. You made a profile and it took a couple days before you matched with a woman. At first you were incredibly awkward when texting and felt embarrassed. She seemed like the kindest woman you've ever met. She understood you and was better than any man or woman you had previously dated.

You were honestly pretty enamored with her, she has dark green eyes. Like a forest green, god they're beautiful, and you swear they change color depending on what she's wearing. Her hair is long and dark, contrasting her lightly tan skin. Her hair is slightly curly, definitely not straight. In the many pictures she's sent you, you notice all her nails are perfect manicured, but two on each finger have been cut down completely. You didn't bother asking, weren't a virgin or stupid, simply poor. You two began talking a bit more about finances after a couple weeks. She listened to you talk about your financial situation, how you could barely keep a roof over your head. By the end of your two and a half hour conversation, you found yourself being wired $10,000. It wasn't as if it was out of nowhere considering what the conversation was, but it was surprising. LSM had said she wanted to give you a bit of money to keep you going for the month. She had not said she was give 10,000 fucking dollars! You didn't know what to do with the money. Other than pay your bills and let the rest sit.

For a couple days you were worried she'd want it all back, but no, instead she asked if you wanted more.

"Well I didn't give you that much...so I'm just making sure it's enough. I can give you plenty more, sugar."

You had reassured her it was enough, much more than enough. In the following days you were finding her flirting with you more, being more straightforward. You blushed everytime she made a crude joke, but you almost wished it was a statement.

When LSM had asked if you wanted to have dinner at her place you agreed. You wondered how the night would go, if you would fuck up and she'd be mad. You hoped the night went as well as possible, and if not, that she'd at least tell you.

The night went a lot of different ways. At first she was playing the kind and gracious host, then she was flirting with you. Finally you had both drank a little too much of her expensive red wine, and she fucked you against her king size bed.

You dont remember the first little bit, but you certainly remember how your night ended. Well not all of it, that woman has the sex drive of a beast. She continued until she couldn't, until you couldn't walk and she couldn't see straight. If nothing else; your legs will remember this until you die.

"Good morning sugar, how are you feeling? I hope I wasn't too rough on you, although I can't say it was entirely my fault. You kept begging me to keep going, and who am I to deny you?"

You whined, talking hurt, and you couldn't move without some part of your body below your waist hurting. You sit up just a enough and look at yourself in your phone mirror. Oh she knew exactly what she was doing, theres a massive bite mark on your shoulder. Everywhere else there's hickeys, like they're changing color.

"Before you get mad- please look at my back!"

She turned and you saw large scratch marks running down her back. From her shoulders to her ass, you can also see quite the array of bites on her shoulder. One looks like it was actually bleeding. Your reaction must be funny because she's laughing like crazy. She gently cups your face and kisses your lips.

"So pretty. My girl is so pretty arent you? Mommy's little girl."

You just laid in her arms for a while, letting her talk about whatever she wanted. You were tired and her touch made you weak. You began thinking about your job, did you have to call in to work today? Were you working today? You asked LSM, but she just smiled and shook her head.

"You wont need your job anymore, at least not this one. I've already sent your monthly allowance over to you. You can quit that job anytime, it'll give you more time for me."

Monthly allowance? You pulled away to check your bank account. Sure enough she had transferred over $40,000.

You stared at the number for a moment a then looked back at her. You assumed she was some sort of big millionaire, but now that you're looking around. Really looking. You dont want to know what this woman does for a living.

"Pay no mind sugar, now come here. I'll have someone bring breakfast and we can stay in bed all day!"

#wlw #lesbian #im bad at this #women are hot #i cant write #sugar mommy #lesbian sugar mommy #lesbian sugar mommy x reader #rich #unedited #i tried #she might be in the mafia but i am not confirming nor denying that #maybe shes a mafia boss #maybe she is just really really rich #i dont see this as smut

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sorendeimos · 29 days

Text

✮ Things Severus will never say ✮

↳ a look through his diary

The pain I feel is wholly insignificant in the face of your betrayal. Oh sure, we have fought and hurt before but this time the pain I feel at your hand is so raw, so visceral, that the only way to soothe it is understanding that you are smiling. Your happiness trumps the pain I feel… I just wish you hated him like we used to so that it didn’t hurt so much when that smile was directed at him.

—after the rejected apologies

They scream and yell today. And yesterday. And every day since. Father doesn’t like when I do magic, Mother says it’s normal for My age and to just not show Father what I can do.

—age 8, 7 months after his first accidental magic

I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM

— after his father hit him for the first time, age 8

ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM ILL KILL HIM

—after his father hits his mother the first time, age 8

I met a girl today that’s just like me. She had hair like fire and eyes like spring. I want to be Her friend.

—after meeting Lily, age 9

I told Her she’s like me. She seemed relieved. I hope She isn’t like me entirely.

—after telling Lily she’s a witch, age 9

Lily and I spend almost every day together, but never at my house. She’s too good for that place.

—on spending time with Lily, age 9, almost 10.

Petunia is the worst. I hope She gets a bee caught up that horrid upturned nose of hers.

—on Petunia, age 10

Mother has told me about Hogwarts today. She says I will be sorted Ravenclaw for my mind and thirst for knowledge. I want to be in Slytherin, to follow Her footsteps.

—on going to Hogwarts, age 10

I’m unsure what hurts more. My pride or losing my first friend. The person on whom I could depend. Who I was changing for. Who looked at me and still believed I had some semblance of good inside, even when I’d proven time and again I don’t. And now I don’t have Her so what, pray tell, is the fucking point. I’ll write to Lucius in the morning.

—after the Assault

The Malfoys, while newly-wed, are gracious hosts. I find comfort in Their home unlike anywhere I’ve ever been before. The future seems promising, and Lucius intends to speak with a benefactor on my potions skill. I shall have word back before Easter on career prospects under the sponsorship of this benefactor. If all goes well, my mastery funding will be secured, a job for after lined up, and I will no longer worry about feeding myself in the off season. Things are looking up for once.

—after Christmas, age 16

Joseph Aston - 25–34 Emily Aston - 24 -35 Joseph Aston Jr - 8–36 ••• Marie LeBlanc - 12–57 Damien LeBlanc - 45–56 ••• Charity Burbage - 37–158

I wish that the love he feels for me didn’t exist some days. He smiles at me and it feels like the sun on my skin after months of winter. He touches my hand and my skin feel alight and ablaze. It will hurt when he leaves me.

—Severus on Remus, age 15

The wolf has some fucking nerve attempting to lecture me on how to teach my class. As if he isn’t a beast in a man’s clothing. As if he isn’t a predator waiting to strike me dead.

—Severus on Remus, age 35

Potter and Black hate me, and I don’t know why. They just do… just like Father then. I suppose it's par for the course.

—musing about the marauders, age 11

I miss you. God, how I miss you. It’s been several months and it still hurts so much. So very much. Harry is safe, Dumbledore will not tell me where he is, but he is safe. Cared for. I hope he is loved. I wish I had not chosen this path. The one that took you away. But I am here now and I will work harder now to fix my mistakes. There’s clean-up to be done, people to put away. Wounds to heal, I only hope that if you look down on me, it is not with scorn with which you do it. Albus thinks this war is not over. If it isn’t… I’ll protect him. I’ll protect him with my life, I swear this. I will do for him what I should have from the beginning with you. I will change. I will be better. I will keep him safe.

—6 months after the Potters’ deaths.

He is more like his father than I expected. This will be tying. I will keep my promise but it will… be a trial.

—after Harry comes to Hogwarts

Give me patience, Lily, your son is every bit your husband and I regret to say I rise to his taunts every time. Patience, for strength, will send me to Azkaban and him to an early grave.

—sometime in Harry’s third year

This is my last entry. It has been years since the war began, longer than expected, and I will likely not make it out. I only pray the souls I doomed forgive me, but I don’t blame Them if not.

—the final page, day before the Battle.

#severus snape #sordidwriting #sorendeimos #pro severus snape #severus prince #writing #pro snape #severus #remus lupin x severus snape #pro severus #severus snape's diary #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction writer

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hopepetal · 10 months

Text

Masterlist

Read on AO3!

Part Four!

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! :)

@applestruda

Impulse fell back into control of his own body in the same way one snapped out of a particularly long ADHD-induced dissociative state. Panicked, unthinking, and wondering how much time has it been?

The book was still burning as Impulse instinctively reached out to snatch it from the flames, only fully processing a moment later that maybe he shouldn’t have grabbed something that was still actively on fire. With a cry of pain and shock, Impulse dropped the book onto the ground as the rain began to beat down more heavily. Stumbling back, he tripped over his own feet and fell, landing with a soft noise of pain as he held his injured hand close to his chest.

For a moment, he sat there, the small fire put out by the heavy rain far too late. A fear the likes of which he had never felt before sat in his chest, causing his heart to race.

What just happened to me? Is it going to happen again? My hand hurts I need to get it bandaged I need to TELL someone I can’t tell anyone what if it happens again what if I lose control and hurt someone what if–

“Impulse?”

Once again, he was yanked from his spiraling thoughts by someone calling his name. Turning around perhaps just a bit too quickly, Impulse looked up to see Scar, sopping wet from the rain, standing behind him. “Scar,” he breathed out, equal parts relieved and terrified. “Scar, are you– are you okay?”

Scar frowned, his eyes immediately landing on Impulse’s burnt hand. “I… think I should be asking you that, Impulse. C’mere, we’re gonna get that all fixed up.” He carefully helped Impulse to his feet. “I’m not gonna ask what happened,” he began as they walked back to the main camp through the rain, “so don’t worry about that. But…” He sighed. “Just… Impulse, I– we– don’t want you to be suffering alone. We’re knights. We’re friends. We’re in this together.”

Impulse nodded, trying to swallow that stubborn lump in his throat. “Yeah. Thanks, Scar.”

Mumbo, wearing a raincoat and holding an umbrella like any normal person would, waved to the two when they approached the tents. “Did you get caught in the rain?” he shouted, if only to be heard over the downpour.

“No,” Scar called back, “we’re just naturally this wet!”

“Oh, okay! Um, Grian and Pearl aren’t around, because, well, you know. Their wings,” Mumbo tried to explain, “their wings don’t– why am I explaining this to you, you both know this, goodness gracious…”

“Thanks Mumbo,” Scar said anyway, “are you gonna get inside? I don’t think this storm is gonna let up any time soon.”

Mumbo shook his head. “This is actually the perfect time for me to study the possibility of harnessing lightning for power! Theoretically, it could work, but theoretically it could also blow me up. And to be honest, I can’t wait to see which one it is.”

“Have fun!” Scar called after him, before leading Impulse to the swaggon. Instead of tents like the other knights, he usually just stayed in the same place he did before joining the knights. “I have bandages and burn stuff here, because goodness knows I burn myself plenty when cooking. Just sit down right there…” He quickly rifled through one of his chests, before pulling out clean bandages and burn ointment. “Aaand I should have some water– how are you feeling, by the way?– here it is!”

As Scar helped Impulse cool the burn and clean his hand, Impulse was at a loss for words. Scar seemed to take note of that after a few minutes of him being unresponsive to the attempts at keeping the mood light hearted, and continued to silently bandage the treated burns.

“I’m sorry,” Impulse began, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Scar chuckled softly, understanding shining through in his eyes. “I think I’d know that feeling better than anyone, Impulse. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I know I’ve done more than my fair share of… poorly thought out things… in the past.”

Impulse had to bite back a laugh. “Yeah, I can think of a couple more memorable ones,” he admitted, “but I just… I dunno, Scar. I…” He sighed. “What would you think if I wasn’t human?”

Scar didn’t even pause. “I mean, Impulse, we’ve been over this a million times before. If you weren’t human, none of the knights would be.” He began to put away the bandages, ointment, and leftover water.

Impulse frowned, shaking his head. “That’s not…” He flexed his right hand, testing to see how much he could move still, before placing it back in his lap. “What do you think of me now?” he pressed, looking back up at Scar.

Scar smiled, turning back to Impulse. “Oh, that’s easy. You’re strong, kind, passionate, smart, a really good teacher, an amazing fighter, you’re funny, you’re creative, and just… you’re a great friend.”

“But what if I wasn’t…” Impulse tried to figure out how to word the question, bouncing his leg slightly. “What if I wasn’t just me?”

Scar thought for a moment, before shrugging. “Well, I don’t think there’s any problem with bein’ that! And, Impulse…” He sat down so that he could be at Impulse’s eye level, folding his hands in his lap and leaning forward. “You’re making it sound like there’s something wrong with being human.” He smiled kindly, but there was something that stopped it from reaching his eyes. “That’s what this is about, yeah? I’ve been… I’ve been thinking about it for a bit. With everything going on…”

Impulse shook his head, interrupting Scar. “No, no, no, there’s nothing wrong with being human! I just… what if the me I am isn’t good enough?”

For a moment, there was silence.

“Oh, Impulse.” Scar’s voice broke slightly on his name. “You are more than enough. You have always been. I’m so happy you’re one of my friends, a part of my life, you…” He took a deep breath, in and out. “If you could see the things you’ve done from an outside perspective, you’d see it– just how much you’ve changed and impacted lives. I…” he trailed off, caught for a moment in a fleeting memory. “I can say for a fact I’ve changed for the better since I met you. So please don’t ever say or think that you aren’t good enough. Because you are. Because you always have been.”

Impulse tried to blink away the tears that suddenly were welling up in his eyes, but it was too late. His vision blurred, and the next blink sent salty drops falling from his eyes to make dark spots on his fresh bandages. It was as if the dam burst with that, and tears began to fall in a steady stream as Impulse’s shoulders shook.

All this pain, all this fear, all the self doubt and anxiety… and he wasn’t alone. He had never been, really. If it hadn’t been for him shutting the other knights out, he wouldn’t have ever ended up with a demon in his mind taking control whenever it wished. But now…

“Thank you, Scar,” Impulse got out, furiously wiping his eyes. “I… I think I needed to hear that.”

Scar nodded. “Of course. I… I can’t say I know exactly how you feel, and I wish I knew more to help you. But just… talk to us, okay? Or, gosh, I don’t know– talk to someone, at least! We won’t be able to help you if we don’t know you’re hurting.”

“Okay. Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much.” Impulse wiped away what he hoped to be the last of his tears, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. “I– I will. I promise I’ll talk to you guys more. And I’m really sorry about all of this.”

Scar waved his hand. “Ah, don’t be. We all have our moments.” He smiled tentatively. “Do you want to stay here with me and wait out the storm? We can make bets on if Mumbo’s new experiment blows up or not.”

Impulse grinned– a real, happy grin. “Sounds great.”

–

Somehow, things got better.

The first day Impulse woke up feeling well-rested, he could hardly believe it. But it continued to happen, again and again, until finally he was waking up at a much more normal time.

“For you, maybe,” Grian had said, but the clear relief in his expression over Impulse’s “recovery” had taken away any snark intended.

Slowly, Impulse began to heal. Not only from the burns, but from the exhaustion and lack of appetite as well. The animals seemed to forget all about their previous distrust of Impulse, though Jellie still was a little wary. He didn’t really mind, of course. The joy he felt from being able to settle back into his life again was enough.

The other knights were thrilled, too. It was like a fog had been lifted from the camp, and everything just felt… lighter.

“Alright.” Pearl interrupted the lively chatter during lunchtime about two weeks later, “we’re unfortunately getting a little low on vegetables and some other supplies. It’s been a while since Impulse and I brought back everything, and I don’t want it goin’ bad, ya hear?”

“Soup day?” Mumbo piped up, eyes wide. They’d all heard this speech a million times, and it was always something the knights looked forward to.

Pearl nodded, smiling. “Soup day.”

“I don’t know why we call it soup day,” Grian mumbled, “it really ends up more like stew, if you ask me.”

Pearl rolled her eyes. “Because, goofball, it’s tradition! And also, soup sounds nicer than stew.”

And so, Impulse found himself paired up with Scar, who kept watch over the pot and stirred while he chopped vegetables.

“Whew!” Scar wiped the sweat from his forehead, turning away from the fire. “It's been a while since I've cooked. I forgot how hot everything gets!”

Impulse laughed. “Yes, that tends to happen with fire. Shocking.”

“Oh, you hush!” Scar grabbed a large spoon, waving it sternly in Impulse's direction before turning back to the pot. “You just keep cutting those veggies, mister.”

“Aye aye, captain.” Impulse turned back to the cutting board, reaching for the knife that lay beside it.

Do it.

Impulse froze. His hand stopped where it was, hovering just over the knife. Taking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment. He had to calm down. He was– he was just hearing things. Nothing was wrong. He was fine. The demon was gone. It had to be. It hadn’t spoken in weeks. Why would it show up again now?

Impulse picked up the knife, placing a washed and peeled carrot on the cutting board. He began to cut the carrot into thin slices with deft hands. In the background, he could hear Scar humming to himself as the fire crackled.

It's just you and him. Alone. The words were like a fog settling over his mind, like icy hands gripping at his heart. An easy target.

Impulse's chopping stilled as he tensed up, before starting to cut again. His movements were sharper, harder, and one of the carrot slices flew off of the table. “Gosh–” He set the knife down, bending to pick the carrot slice up and throw it away.

“You good, man?” Scar called from where he stood beside the fire, not turning to look away from the pot. “Havin' some troubles?”

He has his back to you.

“Nah,” Impulse joked, though his tone was a bit forced. “Just underestimated my own strength.” He straightened back up, gripping the edge of the table with his hands.

No. No, no, no no no no. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening. Not again. Not now. Not after he’d finally started to be happy again.

The voice cooed softly in his head, a persuasive siren song. It would take nothing at all to kill him. Impulse found his hand drifting toward the knife, unable to stop. To stab him in the back... He picked it up. Somehow, this was different from the possession. Yes... feel the thirst... spill his blood–!

The demon wasn’t making him do anything. This time, it made him want to.

“No!” Impulse breathed out, stumbling back. He threw the knife down on the table. “Sorry, Scar. I gotta go. I'll tell Grian to come out and help you.”

Impulse fled, not sticking around to hear Scar's confused “Wait–!”

–

“...just worried, is all. I know you see it too. It’s like whatever happened–”

Whatever conversation Grian and Pearl were having before Impulse interrupted had probably been important by the sound of it, but Impulse didn’t really have the time to feel guilty about that. Panicked, he looked back and forth between them both, still panting slightly. “Grian?” he got out, trying to force his voice to stay calm, “Grian, I need you to go help Scar. I– I can’t…” He trailed off as he realized just how stupid this all sounded.

Pearl took a step toward him, her face unreadable. “Are you feeling alright, Impulse?” she asked, and after a moment, Impulse swallowed and nodded. “Are you sure, mate? You’re looking awfully pale.”

Grian said nothing, but Impulse noticed how his wings had slightly spread out, colourful feathers slightly puffing up. Grian had never been surprised by anyone before– he somehow always knew when someone was coming. So unless he had been angry at Pearl for some reason (which, thinking about it, wasn’t all that unbelievable), it had to have been Impulse who had set him off.

…right?

Impulse just tried to smile and nod. “Um. Yeah. Sorry.” His eyes kept drifting back to Grian, which Pearl noticed.

She turned to Grian and smacked him on the shoulder. “Hey. Birdbrain. That’s Impulse, mhm? Our friend? Pull yourself together, goodness gracious.”

Grian blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Oh– was I staring? Uh, yeah, sorry about that.” His wings slowly folded back behind him, and he lost the alert posture. “Sorry. What was happening?”

“Nothing,” Impulse got out. “I’m good. I promise.”

Pathetic. He was pathetic. It wasn’t even that long ago when he’d had that conversation with Scar about reaching out, and being more open with the other knights. Guess this was just another thing he managed to screw up instantly.

Impulse began to back away from the two. “The uh. The soup! Yeah, the soup’s almost done. I’ll see you guys at dinner…?”

Pearl smiled, if only to put him at ease. “Of course. See you at dinner, Impulse.”

Impulse began to walk away, and it was only when Grian and Pearl started talking again in hushed tones was he reminded that the contract with the demon gave him enhanced hearing. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to invade on their privacy–

“I told you. You could see it in his eyes.”

“Grian, not now.”

…especially when this was clearly about him.

Impulse ran the rest of the way back to Scar, and was all-too relieved to see that Mumbo was there as well. “Hey. Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Oh, it’s alright!” Scar called over to him, “we’re just about finished up, so don’t you worry!”

“I got to chop the vegetables,” Mumbo added, “but really, I’ve been thinking– it would be quite simple to just get an automatic…” He started to ramble about his idea of an automatic vegetable cutter, but Impulse found he couldn’t quite follow along as well as he’d hope to.

The demon was back. Or maybe it had never left. And not only could it speak to Impulse and possess him but it could influence him as well.

Impulse was strong. He had trained all his life to hone his strength and skills. He couldn’t fly, couldn’t breathe underwater, couldn’t withstand a fiery blaze, and most certainly couldn’t teleport. But he was strong. In terms of pure physical strength, none of the other knights stood a chance.

And that terrified him.

Dinner went by in a blur, and it felt as though barely a moment had passed by when Impulse laid down to sleep. He had been stuck in a sort of zoned out state ever since the demon had reappeared, and only now did his head feel more clear.

Today had been a warning. What happened with Scar– Impulse could’ve killed him. The fact that he hadn’t was frankly a miracle. But it would happen again. The demon would speak to him and he would pick up the knife and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself in time.

Tomorrow.

Impulse would leave camp tomorrow, and he would run until he was far, far away from anyone he could hurt.

But for now, he needed to sleep.

#my writing #boatem knights au #impulsesv #pearlescentmoon #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fanfic #obv i'm not updating the ao3 rn #bc of the attack

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